#Very specific si mention in this one this is an actual warning in a serious not joking way

[justonefeather]

I don't even romanticise cutting anymore like I don't think it will solve anything, it's just the physical craving, makes me think of quitting nic, my chest feels hollow and full of scribbles and my arms feel empty and like i want to tear into them with sharp objects, i want the cold and the thin pain and the red and the release, i want it so badly and other areas don't Feel the same it's not like i can go to my leg or my shoulder, I've tried those, it's not good enough.. Why does this feel like the only thing that works, nothing makes the pain stop and that's all I want even if it's temporary, anything would be anyway, but it makes other people upset and uncomfortable so I can't, but what are they even going to to about my pain!! Nothing!!!! But I have to suffer in silence for other people's comfort always, otherwise they will hurt me for not hiding it

[pricetagofficial]

Sweet Tarts -TD

Warnings: Pure tooth-rotting fluff

Paring: Tim Drake x Wally sis! Reader

Word Count: 2.8K

Tag List: @kishony-the-geek​ @idkmanicantenglish​ @unknowntoanyone​ @subtleappreciation​ @catxsnow​ @river-bottom-nightmare​ @screennamealreadyused​ @woahjaybird​

A/N: I did not specify if Wally and Y/N are biological or adopted siblings, so that part is entirely left up to you and how you want to interpret it. 

“Come on Y/N, just come with me. It’ll be fun!” Wally protested, pulling on your arm.

You rolled your eyes and looked up at your older brother, for the last hour he had been trying to convince you to go to a team party with him but all you wanted to do was sit and read the newest book in your favorite series. It had just recently come out and you were more than excited, but of course, Wally had other plans.

“Why can’t you just ask Dick to go with you?” you brushed him off, turning to look at your book once more.

“He already is, but I want to introduce my little sister to the rest of the team. They know literally everything about you but what you look like. You come this one time and I will never ask you again for as long as I live.” He pleaded, dashing over to look at you.

Wally did have a point, the only people you had actually met on the team were Dick, Conner, M’gann, and Artemis considering they were all close friends with Wally. You knew Dick had younger brothers, but you had never met them let alone knew what they looked like. Dick and Wally were the worst when they were together, normally where you found one, nine times out of ten the other was with them causing trouble and giving Bruce and Barry gray hairs.

There was even a space for you on the team, considering the fact that you had similar powers to that of Wally and Barry but the hero life was never for you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help others but Barry was stressed enough with just Wally and Bart; adding you to the mix was an accident waiting to happen. Besides, you were the slowest of them all and didn’t want to hold anyone back. Both Wally and Barry respected your decision, but Bart never stopped bugging you to join.

“Wally, you and I both know that if I go to one, it will turn into every single one, and before I know it one of you has managed to rope me into joining the team.” You closed your book and crossed your arms, “I know the schemes you and Dick come up with, you really think you could pull this one past me?”

Wally gave you a shrug. “Maybe, but please? I want you to meet everyone else.”

After a few more moments of contemplating, you finally let out a sigh and dropped your head. “Fine, I will go to this one! But I swear if you try anything funny, I will punch you into the next century.” You threatened.

“Oh, come on, you and I both know you can’t do that.” Wally teased, poking your forehead only for you to flick his nose. “You aren’t fast enough for it.”

“No, but Barry is.”

Wally seemed to take that threat semi-serious, he got up with a huge smile on his face. “I swear, you will not regret coming to this!” he laughed and sped off to his room to call Dick and let him know that their plan was a go.

It was a couple of hours until the party but Wally spent most of it making sure that you were good to go. He was oddly concerned with what you were wearing, and how your hair looked. It should have raised red flags all over the place, but you brushed it off as Wally just being his over-analytical self.

Before you knew it, the two of you were standing outside the zeta tube in Central City ready to go to Mt. Justice for the party that was being hosted as a celebration for one of the team’s biggest cases completed.

Recognized -Kid Flash B03, -Velocity B032

The two of you didn’t even make it in the cave before Wally was dragged into a hug by his best friend. “You guys made it! Velocity, good to see you.” He grinned and hugged you tightly as well.

“Dick, I don’t go by Velocity you know that.” You chuckled hugging him back.

“If you don’t go by Velocity, then why is it there?” a voice asked from behind him. Conner and M’gann walked up to you with a smile on their face.

You crossed your arms and gave them both a look. “You all know very well why it’s there and not my name.”

Wally and Dick rubbed the back of their necks with a suspicious look on their faces. “We have no idea what you are talking about Y/N, but either way I’m glad you decided to come. There are so many people who want to meet Wally’s famous sister.”

The four of them ushered you further into the cave where there were dozens of people there standing around, talking, and eating the many snacks M’gann had made. Most people were in their civies as well, the few who weren’t wore either glasses or their masks to hide their identity.

Taking a look around, you remembered the last time you were in the cave. It was the day that you got the nickname Velocity, but tried to push it to the back of your mind as Dick and Wally specifically maneuvered you towards the snack table.

“Make yourself at home, we’ll be right back,” Dick said and walked off with Wally right behind him.

“Don’t you move.” Wally threatened and followed his friend before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you alone at the snack table.

It was at this point you regretted coming to the party, your brother and the only people you knew ditched you at the snack table so you did the only thing you could. Gorge yourself on the delectable treats in front of you. Grabbing a plate, you put a little bit of everything that could fit on your plate. Your appetite was quite large, but it was your metabolism trying to keep up with the speeds your body could handle. The only person you had seen eat more than you was Wally; he was like a human garbage disposal.

You were snacking on a cherry tart when you heard someone stand beside you. Looking to your left, you saw a boy with messy black hair and the brightest blue eyes you had ever seen. He was only a bit taller than you and had his arms crossed over his chest with a disheveled look on his face as if he was forced to walk over.

Before he could catch you looking, you quickly turned your head and finished the tart in your hand.

“You should try the apple ones, they’re the best.” He said softly.

Turning to look at him, a small smile spread on your face. “I don’t know, I’m pretty attached to the cherry.”

The boy chuckled and held out his hand. “I’m Tim, Dick is my older brother.”

You took his in your own and shook it. “Y/N, Wally is mine.” you smiled.

“I figured, you’re all he seems to talk about.” Tim smiled, leaning against the table to look at you.

“Oh really? How many embarrassing stories should I be worried that everyone knows about?” you asked, finishing your cherry tart.

Tim laughed at your question. “None so far, all he says is how cool you are and that he is proud of you.”

Hearing those words made you smile more, maybe Wally wasn’t such a terrible big brother. “I’m proud of him too, putting himself out there to help those who can’t protect themselves every day. It’s not easy, and Wally loves it more than anything.” You explained, reaching for an apple tart and taking a bite of it.

“You’re right, these are good.” You smiled.

“I told you.” He grinned. “But you have the same powers, so why don’t you fight with him and the team?” Tim asked, tilting his head as he took a cherry tart off of your plate.

You tried to swat his hand away with a laugh only for him to stay out of reach and take a bite.

“I prefer to stay out of the action, I’m not as fast as Barry, Wally, or Bart. I’d only slow them down, and worry them more, so I’ve taken up an internship with Iris and journalism and help keep people’s noses out of their identities.” You explained, looking around. “But that does not stop them, especially Bart. Every time I see him, he brings out the suit Barry had made for me and makes a big deal about asking every chance he gets.”

Your eye caught sight of Wally and he was talking to Artemis, with Dick at his side. They seemed to be talking in hushed whispers about something and gesturing towards your location but things weren’t adding up. Before you could even voice your concern, or mention it to Tim you saw a blur out of the corner of your eye.

“Speaking of which.” You quickly set your plate down and grabbed Tim’s hand and took off down the hall to get away from Bart. You loved him to death, but this kid had an exuberant amount of energy that rivaled Wally’s and this was the last thing you wanted.

“Y/N!” you heard Bart call from behind you, only making you pick up the pace a little.

You could have run faster to get away from him, but for some reason, you grabbed hold of Tim and drug him along with you. It limited your speed and you felt him tug on your hand.

“Here, this way.” He said and opened a door and quickly shoved the two of you in, quietly shutting it behind you.

The two of you hid in the dark closet, Tim’s ear pressed against the door as he listened for Bart’s steps to fade away. Somehow the two of you had outrun him and hid before he could actually find you. A couple minutes passed before you let out the breath you had been holding.

“Thanks for that.” You smiled, blinking as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. It had only just dawned on you exactly where you were, and how small the room was. “Tim, did you just shove us in a broom closet?”

Tim rubbed the back of his head. “It was the closest place we could hide, I figured from the way you took off that you didn’t want to deal with him asking you questions.” He looked around, before reaching for the door. “I think it’s safe to come out.” He said and pulled on the handle, only for it to not budge.

“Tim, why is the door not opening?” you asked.

“Uh, it’s locked.”

“It’s what?”

“It’s locked.” He repeated.

You ran a hand through your hair and let out a sigh. “How are we locked in here? Does it unlock from the outside only?”

“It seems so, and I don’t have my utility belt or I could totally get us out of here.” He responded and pulled out his phone, using the light to look around. You had left yours with Wally because the outfit you were wearing did not have any pockets.

“I have no service in here either, so it looks like we just have to wait it out.” He sighed and sat on a box, you sitting on one leaned against the opposite wall. The closet was big enough that you were comfortable, but your knees were touching and you were crowded by various items.

“It’s never a dull time with you bats.” You chuckled, leaning your arms on your thighs.

“I could say the same thing about you speedsters.” Tim teased. “Between you, Wally, and Bart, someone is always laughing and having a good time.”

You tilted your head at his comment. “We’ve never met before tonight; how do you know I always make people laugh?”

Tim was thankful for the darkness of the room; you didn’t get to see the slight blush creeping up on his face. “Wally and Bart talk about you all the time, every story they tell has at least one person in tears laughing.”

Your face began to heat up as well, with you tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, life is too short with this occupation. What better way to live it than to make others laugh right?”

Tim laughed softly and looked at you with his blue eyes illuminated by the soft glow coming from his phone. “Yeah, you never know what day will be your last so might as well live it the way you want to, right?”

The tone in his voice seemed to change with those last few words. Tim had known about you for a while and even harbored a slight crush from the pictures Dick would show him of you and Wally. But seeing you in reality, was something different entirely; the way your eyes shone when you talked about your family and running made him fall even harder. Sure, you weren’t a public hero like your brother or uncle, but you were still a speedster and running was in your blood.

Slowly his hand reached over and took yours, keeping his touch light and soft. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you off, or make you think he was some kind of weirdo. But the second you tightened your grip on his hand, his heart fluttered.

“I have to be honest; I did not want to come to this stupid party, and getting locked in a closet was not on my list. But I am glad that it's with you.” You smiled, looking at your entwined hands.

His fingers were long but calloused. It showed the hard work he put into his title of Robin, but no matter how rough they were his touch was soft. He gripped your hand in his and looked at you. You had only met him that night, but there was something that pulled you towards him. Maybe it was the fact that he understood what it was like to have a big brother’s legacy to live up to or the simple fact that he understood that you didn’t want to join the hero scene. Whatever it was, it seemed to pull him towards you as well.

Before you knew it, his face was right in front of yours and you could feel his warm breath fan over your face. One inch closer and your lips would be on his, and your eyes locked with his. Tim’s hand left yours as he cupped your cheek with both hands, threading his fingers through your hair slightly.

The magnetic pull only got stronger as you leaned in closer, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips brushed against yours. His lashes tickled the skin on your cheeks as Tim kissed you fully, leaning into it to feel it closer.

The kiss itself only lasted a few seconds before he pulled back and looked at you, his eyes shining with something you couldn’t decipher.

“You taste like cherry tart.” Tim gave a lopsided grin, savoring the taste of your lips on his own.

“I am definitely glad I am stuck in a closet with you now.” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and kissed Tim once more. His hands held your waist as he pulled you onto his lap to bring you closer to his body.

This kiss lasted longer than the first one, but not by much. Before either of you could react, the door to the closet swung open as light flooded into the room. You let out a squeak and jumped off Tim’s lap and landed on the floor with a thud.

Looking up, you saw Dick standing there with his arms crossed and an amused expression on his face. “Having fun, you two?” he teased.

Tim’s face flushed darker as you glared at Dick from your spot on the floor.

“Hey, Wally! I found her!” he called. Within seconds, Wally was next to Dick and peeking into the closet and saw your current position.

“You know, when we planned on setting you two up, we did not mean for you to make out in a dark closet.” He grinned.

“Wally!” you snapped and got up and dove at him quickly, Wally speeding out of the way. It all clicked why they wanted you to come to the party so bad and Wally’s sudden interest in what you wore out of the house. He was trying to set you up with Dick’s little brother.

Knowing that he was in trouble, Wally took off down the hall with you right behind him zooming through the cave as you tried to catch him. The night ended with Wally nursing a large bruise on his shoulder and you and Tim exchanging numbers and planning your first official date of many yet to come.

[soulwillower]

boyfriend stuff • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)      

requested: PLEASE FAKE DATING TO LOVERS WITH RICHIE PLEASE A WHOLE FIC PLEASE MORE

warnings: swearing, fluff, mentions of sex, a bit of drinking, family members, richie has a little sis!! and i believe that is it but as always its unedited

[losers + reader are in college]

sorry i haven’t been posting much but i have this fic for u guys, hope u like it!

6k words yowza

♡

"you said what?!" you hiss, your stomach swirling, jaw dropped as the wind whips your hair around. richie's grinning, but it's not his usual up-to-something grin. much more of an i'm-sorry-i-ran-my-mouth-again  kind of smile, but it's still richie's, so it's impossible to stay annoyed.  

"well shit, doll. you know how i am! and it was my grandma, i couldn't let her down. she is crazy." he says with a shrug, his hand pushing back his wild curls as you glare up at him in his stupid striped shirt and awful, annoying, angelic face.

you scoff, crossing your arms as your eyes flick to behind richie, taking in the law library and some kids playing hackey-sack on the quad. birds chirp in the distance. "c'mon, toots. you can play my girlfriend for a few days, right?" he asks gently, making you look back to him, gazing into his hopeful expression.

you're silent as a warm breeze flutters around you and you weigh your options - honestly, what could go wrong by going to your friend's grandma's house and pretending to be his girlfriend for a bit?

"how far is the drive?" you ask sharply.

"yes, baby! i knew i could count on you." he yelps, scooping you in his arms and making you yelp, rolling your eyes. "i didn't actually commit to fake-dating you yet, richie. unless you pay me."

"100 bucks, kid." he says, holding your shoulders. you gape at him, "what? do you seriously need to convince your grandma and the rest of your family that you're dating someone that much?" you ask, eyes wide and a smile curling onto your lips.

this boy was ridiculous.

he launches into a story about how his grandma is super weird - nice, but oddly suspicious; like (as he puts it) red-scare mccarthy type suspicious, which doesn't do much to help his case with you.

he then lists on his fingers the reasons he needed a girlfriend and continued to insist, "y/n/n, look at me. nobody's going to believe that i'm single. i'm way too gorgeous." you roll your eyes so hard it hurts. 

"-plus, you're the only friend i have that is hot enough and tolerant enough to pass as my girl for a whole weekend. i would ask stan the man, but i already mentioned that it was specifically a lady-lover of mine, and i can't put stan through a weekend of bra stuffing on top of faking' it with me."

you scoff at his absurdity, following him as he walks towards his dorm and weighing your options. "we have to stay with your batshit grandma, tozier? and you're really gonna do all that boyfriend stuff?"

he just laughs, tilting his head up so the sun glints on his forehead and you have to tear your eyes away before you get too attached to the sight of him.

"oh, of course i am toots. i can't wait to treat you like you deserve, babe. plus, it's a small house. we'll be sharing a room, though." he mutters, slinging a heavy arm around you and giving you icy butterflies that thrash in your ribcage. you groan, "come on, richie. i'm only doing this out of the goodness of my heart." you mutter, shaking your head as he sweeps the door to his building open and wiggles his brows. "and i have to share a bed with you?"

"you can curse my momma for bein' so liberal."  he says with a shake of his head, "you'll love her, though. she's excited to meet my girlfriend."

you fake a gag.

x

somehow, a week later, you're pulling yourself out of richie's beat up cherokee and sighing at the heat outside, watching as richie unfolds his body to his full height and sweeps an arm towards the quaint house across the street.  you walk to his side of the car and shake your head, trying not to think of the pressure of acting like a good girlfriend for the next two and a half days.

the drive back to richie's hometown was just as you'd expected a road trip with richie would be - cherry cola, loud music, a/c on blast as the summer warmth whips around his car on the outside, and a briefly awkward lay out of rules for the two of you to follow.

"well what about, like, rules?" you ask, feet balanced on the dashboard. he looks over to you, smirking as he hums along to the radio as it plays quietly. "well, like, what about them?" he asks, smacking his mouth and fake twirling his hair like a valley girl. you hide a giggle behind a glare.

"i'm serious, rich." but your smile gives way to your playful manner as you toss a chip at him. it hits his shoulder and he smirks - you're distracted, then, by how the faint morning glow hits his eyelashes, how his side-profile is sharp and angular but somehow also soft and subdued.

his hair is scruffy and placed perfectly as if he'd just rolled out of bed - though you know it took him a few minutes to make it look that way. he's wearing his stupid black corduroy pants and a long sleeve shirt that looks so soft you might melt and his lips are quirked into a wry smile.

richie's eyes are bright and teasing as ever, even on this early morning, and his teeth toy with his pink lips as he grins. you smile to yourself as you stare, because richie tozier is an artwork.

"y/n/n?" he asks softly, shooting you a soft look that really makes your fingertips tingle as you reach for your coffee. had he been speaking to you? you clear your throat, "richie, eyes on the road."

he chuckles but obeys, turning to look forwards, and you feel your heartbeat relax slightly. "okay. what about touching?" you reiterate as he keeps glancing at you, making you flush and your stomach thrash in tickle.

"you know i'm all for it." he wiggles his eyebrows and you scoff, shaking your head and pressing your lips together to keep down a smile. he's too much."-for real, though. what are you comfortable with? i can do any of that boyfriend stuff." he says, mimicking your words from the week before when you'd agreed to come, and you turn red again for nearly no reason.

you shrug. "well, touching is fine...but don't you think.... er- i mean, maybe kissing is just... a little weird? i don’t know." you ask, your stomach fluttering. you're not totally sure why, or you just don't want to address it, but you think that kissing richie might make things... different for you.

you ignore the feeling as richie nods. "yeah, i mean it’s not like my parents are gonna try and make us lock lips in front of them anyways." he mutters, making you roll your eyes, smiling out the window as the countryside flashes by in splashes of green and yellow.

"right, kid. you ready?" richie's voice calls you to look at him with a smile. "guess so." you shrug, your breath mixing with the warm afternoon air. the front door of the house creaks open from across the yard and richie turns to you, smiling devilishly and holding your bag in his hand.

"quick, they're coming. kiss me." he says with a lopsided grin. your stomach dips and you huff, "ew, no!"

he looks at you with a grin as you continue, "-you just had funyuns! that's so gross." you say, shoving his face as he tries to lean closer to you, making kissy faces. you can't help yourself from giggling as he smiles, "do it! c'mon, toots. plant one on me." "no, rich!" you squeal with another laugh, shoving him as he beams down at you. slowly, he pulls you into his chest and you lay your head, wrapping your arms around him. the proximity of your bodies takes your breath away as you breathe in the faint scent of mint, strawberry and cigarettes. it makes you relax almost completely and you're unsure when these feelings with richie started, but you're suddenly hyperaware of them and you think you might be in some real trouble.

"let's do this, y/n/n."

x

you'd expected meeting richie's family to be the most stressful part of your day, but it went so smoothly you were almost concerned.

his mom was taller than you but still shorter than him, and when he lifted her up in greeting it made your heart swell. next was his grandma, who was quite short and had curly gray hair. she hugged you and kissed your cheek and you immediately felt welcome as you met them.

then not shortly after, a fiery bullet with a black dress and light - up sneakers came barreling full speed at richie, making you blink as he yelled, "munch!" and lifted the girl up.

you met his little sister, who he insisted you call "munch," through a shy wave and a grin as she had her arms looped and face buried in his neck.

and then you smiled and pretended not to feel anything as you watched him tickle her and kiss her forehead.

throughout the day, it is physically painful for you to watch richie with his family. really, it is.

you know richie tozier. the boy who falls asleep at the library and drools on his textbook, the boy who ties people's shoelaces together at parties when he's just entered that drunken stage of "pranky richie." he's the dumbass who fell out the window of bill's dorm and into the bushes, the kid who was a huge nerd yet incessantly boasted about his 'very high' body count (which, by the way, you did not believe). he was the loud person at every party, the kind who drew people in out of admiration, fascination or loathing, he was the boy who got the highest gpa and also the highest amount of parking violations and speeding tickets.

but here, at home...

god, richie was incredible. he had a whole other side to him that fit in perfectly, like a missing piece to a puzzle that you didn't even know was incomplete. he spent as much time with his sister, munch, as he could - singing to her, brushing and braiding her hair, teasing her relentlessly, and making snacks for the three of you.

he even wore a tiara and a tutu when munch insisted you have a tea party - and he steeped real tea (which tasted like shit because he did not know how to steep tea), even getting out his grandma's fancy cups.

the way he treated munch was honestly the nail in the coffin for you, because the one thing you expected richie to be bad at was interacting with young kids. like, he swears like a sailor, is always bouncing around, rarely goes a day without a cigarette, and just all around seems like he'd prefer the company of an average-aged joe. but he is full of surprises, as you've learned.

x

it took almost six hours of driving to get to his grandma's house, none of which richie allowed you to drive, despite your insistence. so after a quick catnap, you'd spent the entire day exploring the house, playing games, and getting to know munch and the rest of his family. and so now, before bed, richie was upstairs showering while you were sitting downstairs at the kitchen table with his grandma and his sister.

you were left to your own wits with his family, which wasn't too bad, but you're nervous you're going to slip up.

"you are just such a lovely young woman, aren't you?" his grandma asks, sipping on her bailey's. you laugh, shrugging your shoulders. "you're too kind, really. you guys are just easy to be around." you say with a smile.

"now i just wonder, what made you settle with richie?" she asks, lifting a brow. you choke on the last gulp of your own bailey's, the warmth going straight to your stomach and the alcohol right to the head. you decide to go the joke route.

"i have no idea, i mean. have you seen those awful shirts?" you say with a snort. his grandma laughs sweetly, sipping again and seemingly forgetting the problem so you pull at your collar, willing for richie to come rescue you.

speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"-hey, you can't judge my life choices, y/n/n, because you are one of them." he says with a grin, drawing you into the crook of his shoulder. "the best one, might i add."

you flush but just roll your eyes, knowing that it's just for show, but secretly yearning for that to be true.

he groans."can you at least pretend you think i'm charming?" richie whines,  "that costs extra." you say, then suddenly your eyes snap to richie's as you realize what you've said.

"costs?" his grandma asks, looking confused. you clear your throat, "o-oh, i..."

"she owes me gas money." "he owes me money for food."

you stare at each other - fuck. that's kind of awkward. richie's grandma hums in suspicion and your mouth feels dry.

richie suddenly guffaws loudly, shaking your shoulders as he nods. "well aren't we the cutest, y/n/n? okay, let's get you off to bed now." he rushes, shitty excuse doing nothing to fix the situation as he tugs your arm so you rise from the stool, then places your empty mug in the sink. he kisses his grandma on the cheek and hurries you upstairs, towards the guest bedroom where you're both staying.

x

the next day was when you really realized that richie tozier never stopped fidgeting. he was an anxious person inherently, so you understood this mixed with his adhd led him to tapping fingers, humming and bouncing his legs.

earlier, he'd had his arm secured around your waist (a foreign yet welcoming sensation) as you'd eaten dinner with his family. he was shaking his leg so aggressively that the table was vibrating and you loved it - you loved the uncomfortable but understanding looks on everyone's faces. you loved that they loved richie just as you did, you loved that they accepted him and teased him and hugged him and joked with him and listened to him like you did.

"what're you thinking' about?" he'd asked into your ear, loud enough that the others had definitely heard. his grin was nearly audible and you smile, looking into his warm eyes, "just you." you'd said simply, with a shrug. and as the words left your mouth, you realized you weren't even putting on a show, or ‘faking it' for his family.

you just really, really liked richie.

shit.

so now, it was well after richie's sister had gone to sleep and the rest of the family was up drinking, listening to music and telling stories. you really were enjoying all the embarrassing stories that fell from maggie's lips, her brain and body being well into a bottle of chardonnay and being more and more humiliating as the clock ticked on.

"-and he was- what was he, dear, seven?" she asks, hand falling onto wentworth's thigh. richie groans, "mom, stop. this isn't even funny."

you nudge him, "speak for yourself."

richie scowls then, leaning back against the awful floral pattern of the couch and pulling you into his side. you smile as you nuzzle into his chest, listening to his wild heartbeat as maggie laughs, "oh, rich. we're just teasing you because we love you."

you nod and giggle as he sticks his tongue out at her. his grandma speaks up, "how did you two kids meet?"

she sounds almost angry, and you're not sure why, so you laugh a little into your sleeve as richie leans up a bit as if preparing for a bullshit speech.

"well y/n was friends with bill first, you know. bill, mike, and her had a class together, and i always heard about y/n this, oh y/n that." richie starts. you smile as you watch him talk, recognizing that it really is the way you met. you'd figured he would just make something up.

"-but anyways, this one time, she came into the dorm because she thought bill would be there. it was just me, though. i was working on some homework or something, and she-she just looked amazing. seriously, i sounded like bill when i introduced myself because i stuttered so much." maggie shakes her head at that, but richie plows through, "and god, ma, she's so smart, she was so sweet i swear i almost got cavities just from talkin' to her for ten minutes. i have never been more star struck in my life, dad. i swear." he says, shaking his head. "later, after y/n left, bill told me he did it intentionally. the little wingman he is, tried to get us to hang out because he knew i'd fall head over heels in love. who couldn't?" he ends, smiling gently at you and brushing his hand on your cheek.

oh.

you feel yourself flush and then you smile at the carpet, your hand rising to grab richie's and lace them together.  you didn't know how damn thick tozier could lay it on - boy did he know how to woo a girl. even if it's all fake.

"meant to be, huh?" wentworth says, and you look from him to richie's grandma, then to richie. "guess so." you say quietly, leaning up to quickly peck richie's cheek and then telling yourself it's just for show in front of his family. it isn't.

it was only 15 minutes later that richie decided it was time to retire to the bed, insisting you come with him - but you know it’s because he’s getting very embarrassed. it was cute to see him flustered for a change. 

"goodnight!" you call, waving to maggie and went as they raise their glasses at the two of you, maggie with a knowing glint in her eye.

you both walk in content silence until you get into your bedroom. 

the music still plays downstairs, a melody of piano and guitar and maybe a quartet wafting up through the vents and creating an eerily romantic ambiance. slowly and wordlessly, richie puts his hands on your waist and hums nonsense as he sways the two of you.

without thinking, you melt into his touch and smile.

you wind your arms around his neck as you move with him, his meaningless humming setting your heart into overdrive - or, perhaps, it's because of the proximity to the boy in front of you.

"rich, nobody's here to see us." it's whispered, because you really don't want to pull away or to have him realize that this isn't what friends do, because you like it. a lot. 

"i know." he says it so softly, you barely hear it. but it's there, the words are out in the open, and you like the way they fall over the air in the room like they're meant to be there. the soft light of the single lamp, the ugly floral wallpaper, the smell of richie.

"isn't it nice, though?" he adds, almost like an afterthought. you grin down at the carpet below you, your eyes taking in his striped socks, his feet absolutely dwarfing yours as you move back and forth gently.

"yeah, it really is." you whisper back, lifting your head up to watch his owl-eyes as they stare back at you, his chewed lips parted as small puffs of breath fall out, his nose splattered with freckles that you can make out from the proximity. he smells like chocolate and that damn mint smell again

"richie..." you start, your eyes trained on his lips as you slowly feel yourself leaning closer to him. he looks frozen, his eyes now changing from wide to almost hooded as he stares down at you. 

you wonder if he's afraid to move, because he's stopped swaying you and now his thumbs are rubbing circles into your side, slipping under your top and yeah, that's definitely new but it's amazing and you wonder if it's such a bad thing for you to want all this stuff with richie.

and to want more.

"yeah babe?" he asks and your brain marvels at how natural and unceremoniously the pet word falls from his lips, as if that really was your name.

but then - be it fear, shame, or anxiety - you mumble out the words, shaking your head. "did bill really try to set us up? l-like, was that all true?" you say with an awkward smile. you just clear your throat, eyes not focusing on richie as if you're looking for something, anything to occupy your mind because you can physically feel the tension and it's suffocating you.

"yeah." he says simply after a couple moments, arms still wrapped around you. you're now too nervous to look at him because he'll see how pleased you are, how happy it makes you that people want you and richie to be together. "all of it was real." he says and his voice sounds so honest, so genuine and so raw that you smile bashfully, looking at him shyly.

"oh, cool." you mutter quietly, fingers playing with the fabric on his chest. he chuckles and his chest shakes with the noise as he pulls you even closer to him. his fingers rise softly to cup your chin and he tilts your head so you're looking in to each other's eyes.

richie is staring at you with a sincerity that you swear you've never seen before; his gaze on yours makes you hear a soft guitar melody, makes you feel weightless and completely full at the same time, makes you taste adventure and strawberries. 

his lips are parting and if he were to speak to you right now, you're completely confident that you would not comprehend a single one of his words because you're too caught up in him. he's making you see pale pinks and blues and lilac and you swear you want to stay the subject of his gaze forever and ever, just you and him and the world outside this room. 

"cool, hm? cool is all i get, baby?" he asks softly, and the only reason you hear it at all is because you feel his breath on your lips and even though you said 'no kissing,' that was a lie - you think you might want to feel his lips on yours forever. your eyes fall shut as you grip his shirt collar, smelling his stupid strawberry 3-in-1 wash as you lean in closer.

and his lips brush yours so faintly that you swear it's like a kiss from a fairy; there and gone so quickly you aren't sure if it ever happened in the first place-

"-jesus, munch!" richie suddenly yelps, scaring you and himself as he jumps slightly, leaning away from you.

you look down, eyes opening to see richie's sleepy sister staring up at you two with wide eyes, her hand clutching richie's leg. "why are you up, kid?" he asks softly, kneeling to her height, hands leaving you. your heart pounds wildly in your chest and you try to catch your breathing, your fingers brushing your lips as you watch richie. did that just happen?

munch whispers into richie's ear, looking to the floor afterwards and you smile, loving how different the siblings are in personality and how sweetly richie treats her. 

richie looks to you with a bashful grin of his own, his cheeks glowing pink and making your heart flutter because at least he felt slightly the same way you felt right now.

"munch wants you to read her a story." he says, shrugging lightly, "you don't have to if you don't want to." he adds, his hand rubbing her head as she hugs his leg. you smile, "n-no, i'd love to."

richie rubs munch's cheek, "lead the way, kiddo." richie loops his arm around your waist softly as you follow her to her room, and you are pretty damn sure it's not just for show.

it took about ten minutes for her to fall back asleep, nestled in a mound of stuffed animals, blankets, and an old shirt of richie's that he'd left behind when he went to school. 

your own eyes droop as you lean your head onto richie's shoulder from where the two of you rest against the wall, stretched on the edge of her bed, and the last thing you remember is smiling at munch's sleeping figure before it's all blank.

you wake up again with a start as you hear a thudding noise - your eyes are bleary and dry, your back and neck kinked in the worst way and you groan a bit as you stir and lift your head. you look around and richie is standing in front of you, arm outstretched. wordlessly, you grab his hand and pull yourself to your wobbly legs as you look at his sister's sleeping body.

you're so exhausted and thrown off that you just follow richie wordlessly into your room and pull off your jeans, putting on shorts before flopping onto the bed next to richie in the dark. 

"g'night." he mumbles sleepily as he wraps a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you closer so he can reach over you to put his glasses on the nightstand. he falls back onto the pillow with a tired huff and you're already half asleep but you can't help your heart from picking up speed as a pair of lips press softly to your hairline.

you fall asleep this time feeling warm and comfortable, the feeling of his lips burning on your forehead sweetly. 

x

when you wake the next day richie’s already gone, the space next to you cold and empty.

 after getting ready, you pad down to the main floor to find everyone outside, munch and richie splashing around in the pool in the backyard. you're excited to see they've set up a lunch outside in the shade under the tree and you decide to go put on your swimsuit just as richie walks in.

"mornin' sugar." he grins, walking over to the kitchen sink. you snort, looking at the clock on the oven: 11:18.

"hey, sorry i slept so late." you mumble, your stomach filling with butterflies as he smiles genuinely at you. your eyes trail over his bare chest, dripping with water droplets as he breathes slowly. your mind flashes back to last night, and you shake your head, jabbing your thumb behind you. "um, i should go put on my suit." you feel awkward. 

he hums, pushing off the counter, "i'll walk with you."

you frown as he does, nervous about being alone with him again. you're being a fucking dumbass, sure, but he makes you nervous in the most delicious way and you can't help but picture his lips fully on yours. it's a terrifying thought, honestly.

"my grandma is being weird today, i think she's onto it because she said we were just really good frien-" richie mutters as you walk the hall and you cut him off, frustrated with his paranoia for no reason.

"rich, why does it even matter if she suspects us? it's not like she knows for sure." you try to reason, your hands falling on to his arms to halt his stride.

he’d just mentioned his grandma’s offhand comment about how close of friends you seem to be. maybe it was nothing, or maybe she didn't believe you. why did it even matter?

he shakes his head, eyes wide. "because that's fucking embarrassing for me! i have feelings, you know." he defends.  

you roll your eyes - you knew damn well richie had feelings. this was getting to be so stupid, this whole thing was pointless - because you know that you've just fallen in love with richie for real and made things ten times harder for the two of you.

"of course you do, rich, but we-"

the noise of footfall in the hallway to your left sends you both into a panic for no entirely good reason, so you tug him closer towards you with wide eyes. his hands catch himself on the wall on either side of you, his breath fanning on your face.

why are you so panicky and jumpy? "did they hear us?" richie whispers frantically, head turning to look and see who was coming towards you.

so instead of responding, for some reason your brain insists you act like a fool and draw his lips to yours. your hands cup his jaw as you press your lips to his, the feeling sending your stomach through loops and your brain fuzzy.

holy shit, this was exactly what you told yourself not to do. shit.

just as you pull back slightly, intending only for the kiss to be a chaste peck, richie's hands are on your body and he's pressing you against the wall, deepening the kiss as he tilts your head to deepen it. 

you're caught off guard, eyes wide as you throw your hands around his neck, kissing him fervently. your eyes close and his tongue prods your lip, taking your fucking breath away.

he tastes like sugary lemonade and you think you're melting, spiraling and falling deeper as you open your mouth. you almost moan out at the feeling of his tongue in your mouth, sliding your tongue against him just as a throat clears.  

you both pull back, alarmed even though you knew this was going to happen - but you're more alarmed at what the fuck richie just did than at his grandma staring at you. 

yeah, his grandma catching you kissing was sort of a huge victory in the 'selling the fake relationship' department, but it’s also a huge bummer for your 'pride and self-confidence' department.

“shouldn't you two be outside?” she says, a small smile on her lips. you let out a quick breath, unable to fucking speak after what just happened. you faintly think you can hear richie saying something to her and then she’s shaking her head with a smile and walking towards the backyard. you blink,  your fingers still hovering over your tingling lips. then, you snap out of it and turn to richie.  as you shove him up the stairs, you yelp, "if you ever kiss me like that again-"

"oh, shut up, you liked it!" he fights back as he turns toward the room you're sharing and lifts a brow, "you opened your mouth for tongue-" he starts but you screech, rushing through the doorframe and shutting the door a little to loudly, "i did not!" you hiss, shoving his shoulders and hiding your smile.  

he stares at you, a grin on his face and eyes teasing. "-then why'd you lick mine when i stuck it in your mouth?" he’s shrugging. you want to punch him in embarrassment because holy shit, is this not a big deal to him?

your eyes widen and you scrunch your face, "god, you're disgusting, just-" you sigh, shaking your head.

your heart is thumping wildly in your chest and you have to physically hold your hands down by your sides so you don't reach up and tug at the stray curl on richie's forehead.

"doll, all i'm sayin' is that was a good practice kiss." he shrugs again.

right. it was for practice.

he speaks up again and you swear he’s giving you a headache. "hey, i mean...since we're here, should we practice sleeping together too?" you turn bright at his words. "richard!" he giggles as you slap his shoulders and he mutters, "-yeah, no, i was kidding, sugar. damn, baby." he mutters, shaking his head with a grin so bright you can't help but share it. “i mean, technically we already did, last night and the night before. but that’s not the kind of sleepin’ i was talking about-“

you cut him off with a stern look and an elbow to the gut and he has the audacity to fucking giggle. 

your stomach tosses and flips itself sick inside of you at the sound and you sigh, giving him a look as he grins. you hope he doesn't notice the absolute heart-eyes you have for him at every given moment.

"cross my heart, sugar. totally kidding." he says, eyes closing as his fingers lazily trace an 'x' over his chest. "i'll wait out here for ya, toots." he says as he walks out of the room, leaving you to change into your suit quickly.

when you open the door back up for him, he whistles. "damn, y/n/n, you look fuckin' sexy."

you stare at him with a blank expression. "richie i'm wearing the same clothes as earlier." you deadpan, gesturing to yourself, having put your clothes back on top of your suit. he grins cheekily as he walks down the stairs, flashing you a wink, "i know that."

he rocks back on his heels. 

"so what can i do to show my love for you since i can't kiss you?" he asks, smirking. you roll your eyes, "shut up, richie. we're by ourselves right now, you don't have to do anything." you insist, pulling your hair back from your face. he sighs, groaning as if in pain. "but what if i just want to?"

you freeze, looking to him with wide eyes as your stomach drops. "do you really just want to?" you ask, mostly joking as your heart beat picks up. he takes a few steps towards you, shirt now on as his curls drip slightly. you watch a drop roll down his jaw and you swallow.

"yeah, i really do." he says simply, shrugging. "i’ve realized that i really do want to do all the boyfriend stuff for you."

you let out a shaky laugh, a smile falling onto your face as you raise your eyebrows. "for show?" you ask, and he shakes his head with a small laugh. "no." he says and you stare at him, unmoving. 

"so you’re gonna make me say it, huh?" he says with a smile that gives you full-blown butterflies as he pulls you to him. you smile back at him, heart melting into mush at the thought of richie being your real boyfriend.

"i think you should, just to be safe." you say with a grin. he smiles brightly, hand coming up to your cheek. his thumb rubs over your face.

"i love you, y/n." he says softly, looking into your eyes. "i want to be your boyfriend, and i want you to be my girl and i want to do stupid shit with you and have tea parties with munch, and for you to listen to my parent's embarrass me, and to spend all my time with you. i want all the boyfriend stuff, y/n."

you shake your head, "we already do that, rich. i've been yours this whole time." his cheeks turn pink and you love the way he looks so you add, "i love you too, richie. i really do. please be my boyfriend."

he kisses you, then.

it's soft, his lips like rose petals and his kiss like honey and it's quite different from your other kiss - both incredible, but this one with much more intention and love. it melts you completely as richie pulls you closer to him, his lips parting from yours slowly, a smile falling onto his face.

"what do you say then, want to go for a swim?" he asks softly, sending you a smile that is blushy and beautiful. you smile, pecking his lips. "sure, rich."

"c'mon, girlfriend." he says happily, tugging you down the stairs and making you grin stupidly, knowing this time for sure that it's not just for show.

//tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @toziershmozier @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11  @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman​ @diorbubs @kait-tozier​ @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @baby-yoda-a \\

[blubberingmess]

Ready to comply [Android!Bucky x fem!reader]

Summary: you accidentally drunk-'bought' an android, what could go wrong?

*sigh*

Warnings: a lot of cursing and mention of sex. Heavily inspired by the video game called 'Detroit: Become Human', don't worry everyone can still read this.

|3043|

      "No, don't leave me! Please."

      "I have to... It's for the best, Maria."

      "No! Alejandro, don't do this to me!

      The sound of the old show from the 2030s and the crunch of the chips on every bite you make were the only things that can be heard inside your small, dingy apartment.

"You really need to take care of yourself! I mean, look at this! Why is there a bra on the freaking counter?"

Ah yes, and also the loud nagging of your big sister. You love her, you really do, but sometimes you just want to just punch her in the face for being so loud every time she comes to visit.

You simply ignored her and continue watching the show in front of you, shoving a handful of chips in your mouth and crunching down on it a bit loudly on purpose. The sound of heavy footsteps can be heard emerging from the kitchen area and stopped in front of you.

Looking up with an unamused expression on your face, you are met by your sister's glare with her arms cross over her chest. Her luxurious clothes and accessories just makes you wince at how bright it is, the urge to obnoxiously hissed at her and hide away from such brightness is strong.

"You need an android."

You were about to actually hiss at her when you were stopped by her sudden suggestion, although, it's more of a command rather than a suggestion. You blink, slowly registering what she just said.

"The fuck do I need an android for?"

Your apartment might not look the best but it's home. Your sister just isn't used to such place, living the life as a supermodel and traveling around the world. Your apartment looking like shit is not a good valid reason for you to buy one. You can take care of yourself, plus, those things are expensive and may you add, weird.

You're not against them, to be honest you're fascinated by CyberStark's inventions; A fan of Stark himself. His inventions just gives you the creeps becasue of how human-looking they are. Kept you guessing who is an android and who is a human when going out.

Thankfully enough, CyberStark designed their androids with an LED in their right temples, one of the distinction of androids between humans. But still...

"Your apartment is a mess. You aren't taking care of yourself or even cook yourself some decent food--"

"I can cook! I just don't feel like it," you protest, clearly offended.

Your sister ignores you and resumes on listing off the reasons why you needed an android with with you groaning every sentence. Finishing off with a, "-- also, you haven't gotten laid in months."

You clicked the pause button on the remote and toss it beside you, mouth agape. "Why the fuck do you care about my sex life all of the sudden?! And for your information, I'm broke. I can't afford a normal android, more so an android with a dic-."

She sighed. "Do you even have a job?" Yes, I hack shits for a living.

You pursed your lips together before answering with a casual chuckle, "Of course I am, sis." You quickly moved the subject before she could ask anymore, "The point is, I don't have enough money to buy myself an android."

"Even the cheaper ones? They only cost ten grand."

Not all of us are getting paid just by posing in front of the camera, sis.

"Even the cheaper ones," you repeated, shoving a piece of chip in your mouth. You were about to grab the remote you tossed beside you but stopped when you heard her speak.

"Here."

You widened your eyes at her outstretched hand, more specifically, the black card. "Woah what? Are you serious? No."

"Yes. Give it back to me as soon as you bought an android. Don't forget, I'll get notified on every purchase you'll be making so don't you dare waste my money."

"What if I want to order some parts for my Nitro? Or my computer suddenly blows up?"

"Not a surprise, but no. Just an android. Order some foods if you want but that's all."

"Um... thanks."

|12am|

      The nearest CyberStark branch isn't what you called 'near', it's about a mile away from your apartment; a few minutes drive using your beloved motorcycle; Nitro.

You decided to give yourself just one glass of wine a few hours ago just to let yourself unwind; think about your life choices. But the more you think about it, the more you didn't noticed that 'one glass of wine' became a 'one bottle of wine'.

Now here you are, currently in the middle of the empty sidewalk, staring up at the brightly lit logo of CyberStark all while trying to stay upright.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped inside the shop and widen your eyes in awe. The inside is very bright and clean in contrast to your outfit which is a mismatched pajamas; is a bit wrinkly and slightly dirty - is that a ketchup stain? Whatever.

You're the only customer inside, thank God.

"Hello ma'am. How may I help you?" You yelped at the sudden voice and glanced at your left to see who it was. A blue LED on It's temple; It's a female android with blonde hair and blue eyes, attractive and unnaturally symmetrical - a typical look for androids, they have to be symmetrical and pleasing for the human eyes.

"Um, yeah. I'm looking for an android?" You mentally smack your head at the stupid question.

The female android nodded it's head, gesturing towards a line of different kinds of androids. "What kind of android are you looking for, ma'am?"

"I don't... I don't actually know." It feels weird talking to someone who looks like a human but is clearly not.

"We have androids that are specialized for house work." Gesturing at the left said of the shop where there are different kinds of varieties of androids are staring into space, only blinking every few minutes.

The female android gestures towards the right side of the shop where another line of different looking androids are. Just like the left side, they just stands there, only blinking and staring into space.

They look... so lifeless.

"On the right side, we have androids that are specialized for caregiving; seniors and toddlers. To the back we have..."

The voice of the android was suddenly blocked off from your ears, focusing at the large box in a vertical rectanglar form that's being carried by two androids while a human man beside them talked, carrying a clipboard in his hand.

They carefully placed it on top of a small platform before opening the metal box and almost choked on air at what you saw.

Even with its eyes closed, you could tell that the android is handsome. It's a model you've never seen before, a new model perhaps? It's hair is brunette; neatly trimmed to the sides while it's thick, curly on top. It's dressed in the usual android uniform of CyberStark, with the necktie and such. You could tell that this android is much more built than the other models, and maybe a bit more taller as well.

"What's that?"

The female android stops and searched her eyes to where you are pointing at, LED flickering from orange then back to blue.

"Android B107, the latest android of CyberStark." The two androids and the man from before walks away after making sure the said B107 is all ready and set for the day.

You walked towards the said B107, giving it a once over and hum in appreciation.

"Does it work?" You shove your hands inside your pockets (thankfully your pajamas has pockets), casually and unashamedly checking out the currently asleep android.

Damn, look at those thighs.

The female android's LED started to flicker once again before answering, "Yes." She walked up to the platform where the B107 and pressed a button on the small white stand, tapering up where a small red button is located, before stepping back.

With a single push of the button, the BB107 came to life. You watched in awe as it slowly opens it's eyes, blinking a few times before it focuses down on you.

He looks so soft and innocent, like a puppy.

"Pleasing to the eyes indeed," you whispered. You watched at how his bright blue eyes scanned your whole face before staring up ahead like the rest of the androids, blank and spaced out.

You hate it.

Turning your eyes back at the only android you can talk to at the moment, you asks,  "What does it do?"

It's LED flickered from blue to red real quick as soon as you asked the question. "I'm sorry ma'am, but it's classified for now," it answered monotonously.

You quirked an eyebrow at it and unconsciously started fiddling the small device inside your pocket. "What? Then why is it placed here then?"

"I'm sorry ma'am, but it's classified for now." Again, with that monotonous, android-esque tone in its voice.

A scoff left your mouth and sassily roll your eyes. "Then tell me something about the android that isn't classified. Geez."

Both of you unbeknownst at the small movement from the B107, it's eyes locked down on your frame. Eyes slightly narrows as it tried to read the datas and information in front of his lens, almost all are empty except for your name and a file he can't access.

[(Y/n) ::surname not found::; ::age not found::; ::year of birth not found::  occupation: unknown;]

[History; not found]

[File.exe 09002576] - [File can not be opened]

The B107 analyzed your movements and the way you lightly swayed side to side.

[(Y/n);; intoxicated]

"B107 is a prototype, first of its kind."

That immediately got you hooked and without having a second thought, you whirl your whole body towards the blonde and grinned.

"I'm buying this one."

The blonde simply shakes it's head. "I'm sorry ma'am, but the B107 is not for sale."

You inhale, grasping the small device a bit tighter. "Oh? Why's that?"

"Just like the recent models, CyberStark have yet to introduce the model before deciding if they should sell models like B107 in the future."

You hummed with a quick look around the empty android shop, before pointing behind the android. "What about that one? I'm sure it's for sale."

The gullible android turns her head to look at where you're pointing at and saw a stray dog peeing on the large glass window of the shop. Before the android could even turn back around, you immediately sticks the tiny cube like device on It's arm.

The android immediately started sizzle and popped the moment the device came contact with it. It's outer skin deactivated around the area, the white plastic coming into view.

Small sparks are coming out from its LED light before the android completely stopped moving, standing still with its eyes wide open.

You're no monster, you just turned it off; reset all of it's data and delete all the scans of your face the android made.

"If I told you to sell me the android, Sell me the fucking android," you slurred, already feeling your head spin. You quickly grabbed the small screen from its hand and blindly scanned the black card before tossing it behind you without a care.

The BB107 watched it all happened before him and can't help but feel... slightly amused. The corners of his already lightly upturned lips lifts up more into a tiny smirk while his eyes remained blank.

The B107 averted it's gaze from the deactivated android and look back down at you, hands unwrapping from its back and down to it's sides.

"B107... B... B... Bucky. Yeah, I like the sound of that. Your name is Bucky." You snapped your head on the now 'dead' android and points your index finger to your 'Bucky'. 

"You heard that? His name is Bucky." Before swinging your attention back to your android, puffing your chest - a futile attempt to look superior since he's basically towering over you with or without the platform, not to mention, much more powerful.

"You probably know this by now; noticed you scanning my face. My name is (Y/n) and I'm your owner now, do you understand?"

[Face scan>>(Y/n):acquaintance]

Bucky nodded his head once, not hiding the smirk from his face. "Ready to comply, (Y/n)."

The sound of his voice is so deep and smooth, so... arousing.

You physically shook your head at the thought of jumping the android's bone, you don't even know if he is one of those kinds of androids, yet. Maybe next time.

Also,'Ready to comply' ? That was new.

"Good. Now let's go, I'm hungry." You wrapped your hand on his cold ones and intertwined your fingers together. Surprisingly, the android lets you.

Unbeknownst to you, you didn't actually activated the small screen after you took it from the female android and just unceremoniously tossed it behind you.

You didn't actually paid for the android. That means you don't own the B107 in anyway, and yet... he lets you drag him out of the CyberStark shop like you do.

Chapter 2

How's the AU? Didn't find one with Bucky yet. Let me know if there is, I wanna read one 🙏💛

[room-of-torture]

Oh, it’s Haunted all-right!

“Knock.Knock. Miss Pena, I have a question to ask?”

“Yes come in, pero por favor call me Sam.” Short strands of dark brown moving back and forth as Sam shook her head with a soft sigh. Raising her head from her paperwork to smile at Gabriel. “I consider you a good friend of mine, Gabriel. Feels too formal otherwise.” She raised a brow at him as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Niña, you may be ok with it but we’re at work. We must be professional at all time while working!” He waved a finger at her in a fake disapproving way. Though he was sure she could see he was only teasing and pretending to sound like her uncle when he got strict with them.

That got a chuckle out of her. “Professional my ass. Me tratas como si fuera tu sobrina that you like to pick on. Just like my mama’s brother-it’s like you two could be related...” She sighed, but smiled once again while watching the older man place his hands on his stomach as he belly laughed. He sighed deeply afterwards as he calmed down. She took note of his energy. It was different today-well much less then it usually was as of late. This man usually had a lot energy but, he looked a bit drained.

Something was definitely up but, she was going to be patient until her friend was ready to tell her.

“Mira Sam, I don’t know if you noticed the...como te lo explico? Strange?” Gabriel scratched his chin, pronouncing his words in his thick accent. “Yeah. Strange shit that’s been happenin’ in this house and wanted to ask if you’ve been noticing them too?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

Sam stared at him curiously for a moment, and was honestly a bit amused at her friend’s question since when isn’t there strange things happening in this house. Honestly with four giant mutant turtles roaming around the house, that was strange enough. Though she had a feeling that she knew what Gabriel was trying to explain but-she had to make sure what he meant. “Strange as in what exactly, Gabe?” She asked, eyeing the man’s fingers as they tapped his cheek. Shoulders were tense and a foot was tapping on it’s own. He almost looked...nervous to just spit it out? Which was rare to see from him since he seemed so brave and confident all the time.

“Have you...ever heard voices at night when you are trying to sleep? Had the feeling that someone was in the room with you when you are physically alone? Things falling on their own? Like even some of my stuff in my room was moved to a different place and you know I don’t let anyone go in my space!” He sighed deeply, crossing his arms once again. Glancing around the room. “It’s like this house is-“

“Haunted?” Sam interjected, keeping her smile as to not to worry the old man. Sitting up and leaning back against her seat, her hands neatly clasped on one leg that was crossed over the other. “Yes sir, it’s definitely haunted.” With the all the death that was brought about in this house, she would be surprised if it wasn’t flooded with the souls of the dead. But she knew that Gabriel didn’t know about the number of people that were killed in this house and maybe it was better that he doesn’t...

He wouldn’t like that one bit.

Clearing her throat, “I am too a witness to the paranormal activity that happens here. I feel like I know too much at this point and that might piss off the ghosts.” She laughed, though a part of her felt bad that some of Gabriel’s color drained from his face. Sam wasn’t afraid of the paranormal but-she knew better never to mess with them because that in itself would send this house into flames! “Mikey, and some of the boy’s clients have also witnessed a bit of activity for themselves from what they told me.”

“Ah so we’re not the only ones?” The older gentleman pulled a chair and sat across from Sam. Curious now.

The brunette nodded. “Do you remember Miss Vivian, the tall blonde veterinarian with two cats?” She asked.

“Smart woman that one and she seems like a good person to have around la tortuga gruñona. Doesn’t take his words to heart, and it’s as if they almost understand one another in a way.” Gabriel chuckled a bit as Sam nodded in agreement about that last part of his statement for Donatello.

“Well, she told me that she would sometimes hear things being dropped at nighttime but, guessed that maybe it was her cats getting into things they shouldn’t be.” Sam shook her head before tilting it back as she remembered the others. “Another was with Ms. Beauregard aka Blossom, the blue-eyed brunette with a southern accent?”

“Kind woman with a good head on her shoulders as well. I’ve seen the way she and ol’ blue boy look at each-other from across the room...kind of like when you and Mikey do that too. It’s precious!” He teased with a grin.

She gave him a stare like she wanted to burn a hole through his head. Doing her best to ignore the heat growing on her face as she moved on. “Anyway- she came to me confused one day asking if I or someone moved around her things at night. Same to you Gabriel. Every once in a while they would end up in a different spot then where they usually are before. She thought someone came in to clean up her room and would move her stuff. Thing is, we don’t do cleaning services until after the client moves out. Clients are responsible for their own space until the job is done.” The two nodded in agreement with that last statement.

“Another was Miss Immogene Waters, the red-head biker same height as me. Remember her?”

“I like that girl’s spirit, she has a lot of spunk and a good taste for good food. I can see why Rafael is growing a bit soft for that one.”

“Yet he doesn’t know it. We gotta knock some sense into that boy till he understands.” Sam shook her head with a sigh before she continued. “Immogene had mentioned once or twice about some very odd but soft whispering that she hears at night at around midnight. But, has put it up to maybe stress making her hear things. That or Raphael is trying to get her attention and sneak into her room at night.” She rolled her eyes at that. “Wouldn’t be the first time with a client but I for sure know it’s not him since that boy can’t stick to a schedule ever in his life.” She sighed but chuckled as she straighten her position and leaned forward against her desk.

“But honestly Gabriel, I’ve been through all of these rooms enough to know that spirits are playing around in them since before they moved in. So it’s no surprise that you’ve experienced paranormal things too.” She nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “You’re not alone.”

“Hmm...” That didn’t seem to ease his nerves completely but, knowing he wasn’t going crazy and wasn’t alone in this matter made him feel a tad better. “...So tell me niña, none of this bothers you nor creeps you out? At all?” He asked with his brows furrowed. Raising one of them as he watched the young woman shake her head with a still smile on her lips. One of few things he has learned about this kid was she was able to stay unusually calm for many situations. Ghosts being one of them apparently.

This child was full of surprises. Odd ones at that...

“Gabriel-I’ve seen enough horrors in my lifetime since the day I was born so not a lot scares me nowadays. Not even when I see shadow people in the corners of my room or over my bed during my sleep paralysis. Breathing in my ear and speaking in words that I hardly understand half the time. This place is haunted-” Sam stood up from her seat while fixing the wrinkles on her uniform. She glanced up at her friend with her hands clasped behind her back. “But it doesn’t scare me.” She shrugged. “I do my best to tell them to pass on or I don’t bother them at all. Especially the most violent ones.”

“Shadow people? Violent ones?-Ah cheez, no me digas que también tenemos demonios? Because if we do I’m fucking packin’ up!” He frowned. “I’m calling a priest.”

Sam walked around her desk and patted the chef’s shoulder. “Cálmate. Honestly I don’t know if there are demons in this house or not because I’ve never actually seen one.” She shrugged once again and sat on top of her desk. Hands gripping the edge of the mahogany wood. “But I do know those specific spirits are bad and overall angry-hence they are consider violent. That’s why it’s best that you stay away from the rooms marked with red tape if you see them Gabriel.” She looked up and stared at the door for a moment while thinking. After a moment of silence she turned back to her friend. Facial features hardening, eyes sharper as they narrowed. “Definitely stay away from the basement floor...That’s the worst of them all and please keep that to yourself as to not scare the others. Especially clients.” Voice was firm as to show she dead serious.

“Wouldn’t it be best to war-”

“Please.” She stopped him but with a soft voice.

Gabriel stared at Sam for a moment while taking in her warnings. Nodding slowly as the new information settled in. “All-right...but if heads start spinnin’ and they crawlin’ up the walls I’m callin’ a exorcist. Got it, Niña? I’m here to only feed bellies and not throw hands with demons.” He slouched in his chair and grumbled to himself.

Sam tilted her head back in a light laugh before giving a sigh of relief. “Loud and clear, chef.”

[tmnt-mags]

Raphael x Fem!Reader

Reader is April's little sister and meets the turtles through her. I changed the ages and timeline a bit just because I don't feel entirely comfortable writing the turtles as 15 year old kids. SO the turtles are 18 the reader is 17 nearing 18 and april is 27.

Warnings: some mention of parent death, but nothing else!

Part 1/ ??

Im still pretty new at writing fanfic and have only done a few and this is my very first tmnt one. Constructive criticism and nice things only please!

I didn't remember my dad. My mother gave birth to me a month before his death. I didn’t remember him but my big sister April did. She told me everything she could about him, all kinds of stories and old home videos. It's almost like I know him but I don’t. Sometimes it's sad and I wish for nothing more than to have some memories with him, but I’ve had a good life and have a great family. I’ve lived with my sister since our mom passed 2 years ago from cancer. I miss her a lot, but I like living with April and I love our apartment.

We both have a deep love for media. She is a reporter with Channel 6 and I started making youtube videos right around the time mom died. It was like a video diary back then and has since turned into something completely different, though there are the occasional personal diary type videos.

I was wearing my favorite oversized sweater. It was a deep forest green and nearly reached my knees. It was worn and a bit tattered in some places, but it was the coziest thing ever.. I was barefoot in the kitchen listening to April talking about the latest Foot Clan activity and thinking about the questions she was planning for some guy who worked on the docks. She had convinced her camera guy Vern to take her over there before they shot her morning segment.

“You’re gonna be late!” I called into the living room while putting some breakfastt in a container for her to take on the road.

“Thank you shorty,” She rushed in and gave me a kiss on the cheek as she grabbed her breakfast and rushed out of the kitchen again to grab her bag “I’ll either be back for dinner or late!”

“That's really specific April,” I mutter as a lean in the kitchen doorway and watch her check her purse. “Do you have your touchup bag and your toothbrush?”

April let out a small gasp and rushed back to the bathroom. She came back out with a bag, gathered her things and blew a kiss as she ran out the door. I let out a laugh and went to eat my own food.

I spent the day editing a new video. I just hit 700k last week so I was making a special video to celebrate. It had some songs that I had covered laid over a video of me painting a portrait of my mother and father. It was taken a year before he had died and they had gone on a weekend getaway in the Appalachian mountains.

I didn't look up until April burst through the door. It was already dark out and I hadn’t even noticed.

“I just witnessed a Foot Clan attack!” she called as she walked through the apartment.

“What? Oh my god! Are you okay?” I practically jumped up and followed her as she began pacing around the living room. “April? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! There I was at the docks trying to get some answers and then BAM! They were there!” She went on about the attack and then started about some kind of vigilante that fought them off.

“Vigilante? Are you serious?” She didn't answer, she just went into her room. I sat back down on the couch and tried to process what she had said. In the end I shook it off and went get some dinner ready.

Over the next few days April was hard to find. She seemed to be constantly on the move and didn't answer her phone. She came home talking about dad's old experiments and giant turtles, and over the next 2 days seemed to just be gone. The spire on the Sacks building fell and The Shredder, who was the leader of the Foot Clan, was arrested and Eric Sacks was revealed to have been working alongside him the whole time. It was a wild time for New York, and April was suddenly quiet about the vigilantes.

Time began to move on and April started talking about these 4 new friends she had that were brothers. They seemed like a fun nice group, and the stories she shared were great.

“So,” I started as we sat together on the couch, “when do I get to meet the brothers?”

April choked on her glass of white wine. “What? Meet them?”

“Yeah, You talk about them all the time! I would like to meet them. They’re all you’ve been talking about for like 3 weeks.” I said as I pushed her with my foot.

“Ummm,” April stopped to think and had a vague look of concern on her face, “I'm not sure actually. They’re pretty busy guys.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Uh-huh. If you don't want me to meet them just say so. I was just curious.” I turn my face away from her.

“No it's not that, It's just they’re kinda shy. They don’t really like meeting people.” April's face said that she was telling a lie.

“Okay.” I left it at that clearly something is bugging her about me meeting her friends.

April-

April went to spend some time with the boys, but couldn’t stop thinking about them meeting her little sister. How would she react? She thought to herself, ‘I fainted when I met them, and there are still times when it kinda freaks me out a bit. I don’t want my baby sister to get scared and I don’t want the boys to get hurt because of it.’ They had tried to act like April’s reaction didn’t hurt them, but she knew it did. ‘I just want everyone to be happy.’ She was sitting in the lair watching the boys fight and Mikey brought up their Christmas pop album again. She smiled, (y/n) loved music and often performed covers on YouTube. She was really good at it. She had even written her own songs but at this point refused to release or talk about them on her channel.

“April, is something troubling you?” The brunette turned, surprised to see Master Splinter.

“Oh it’s nothing really.” She paused, “Actually could we talk? I am having some trouble.” Splinter nodded and gestured for her to follow. Not answering the questioning looks of the brothers, they went into Hashi.

“The boys avoid this room as much as possible,” Splinter said with a chuckle, “they will not listen in in here.”

“Makes sense,” April laughed and sat down on a mat with Splinter while looking at the odd structures in the room, “I’m having some trouble with my sister.”

“Oh yes, little (y/n) she had only just been born. I believe your father brought her down to the lab twice in those last weeks.” He thought back fondly on the small soft baby that looked so tiny in the arms of her father but so big compared to him then. “ what is it that is wrong?”

“She wants to meet the brothers. She doesn’t know that they are turtles, but she knows I have new friends.” April said looking down, “ we are very open. We’re the only family we have left so we always know each other's friends. It’s a safety thing I guess.”

Master Splinter hummed and looked at April, who continued.

“She wants to meet them and honestly I want her to too! I think they would all get along so well and I think the boys would adore her. It would also be nice to know that there are 4 ninjas who would look out for her.” April sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

“I just don’t want the boys to get hurt. What if she is afraid of them? What if she screams and calls them monsters or freaks? What if she passes out or cries. It would hurt them so much, and I don’t want to see my sister frightened anyway.” April’s shoulders slumped and she lowered her face to look across at Splinter.

“You know your sister well? Do you think she will react this way?” The rat questioned.

“I don’t know. This isn’t exactly a situation that has ever come up before or one I ever thought I would be in.” She played with her fingers in her lap and she watched him stroke his beard.

“I think you know your sister well and know what would be the best course of action.” He smiled, “I think the trouble now will be convincing the boys to risk meeting her. I have no doubt that it will be a split crowd.”

April nodded and gave a kind of exasperated smile. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Mikey and Ralph would agree, Donnie was iffy, but Leo would say no.

“Thank you Splinter. That does actually help. Do you mind if I stay in here a bit longer?” She asked.

“Go ahead child. Take your time.” Splinter got up and left the Hashi.

April sat and thought about what he had said. She thought back to everything she knew about her sister and what she knew of the boys. If her sister could be accepting she knew that they could have a great friendship. The boys were half a year older than her and they didn't know anyone their age. It would be nice for them to have that she thought. She knew Mikey would be super friendly right away, maybe even too friendly. Donnie would be polite but wary at first and a bit excited. Raph would be happy just to meet another person, but Leo would be cold. She feared that he would be distant and unapproachable and she knew her sister well enough to know she wouldn't be able to handle that.

She took her time and eventually rejoined the brothers. She brushed off their questions with a simple: “I needed advice.” She sat down with them as they all talked and joked around. Finally Donnie brought up the perfect opportunity.

“April you're lucky you don't have brothers.” He said as Mikey bombarded him with insane ideas for gadgets.

“Well I don't have any brothers but I do have a baby sister.” The turtles all turned towards her clearly shocked by this news. “She's actually about 4 months from turning 18.”

“Woah Angelcakes, We didn't know you had a lil’ sis. Is she as beautiful as you?” Mikey said while batting his eyes at her.

“I think she is absolutely gorgeous, and she sings and does art. She’s about to be a senior in high school.” April said while leaning closer to mikey. “Shes shorter than me and has curves for days. She used to be on the dance team actually.” April laughed and Mikey threw himself back and fanned himself with his hand.

“Why haven't you mentioned her?” Leo asked.

“You never asked if I had any siblings. She was born a few weeks before my dad died.” April smiled sadly at that “She actually asked if she could meet you.”

The boys seemed to freeze at that, and suddenly all eyes were on her.

“You told about us?”. Raph asked.

“Kinda. I might have left out the part about being ninja turtles, but I told her about my new friends and she wants to meet you guys.” Raph scoffed at her answer.

“So you didn't actually tell her about us.” He almost snapped at her.

“Cool it Raph.” leo warned.

“I don't wanna be looked at like a freak. She won't want to meet us when she sees us.” he stood up and walked off. April looked at the others who all looked like they wanted to disagree and agree with Raph at the same time.

“Sorry angelcakes, I'm sure baby angelcakes is great though.” Mikey shrugged.

April sat in disbelief that they all basically said no. The lair was quiet after that and she left after they ate some dinner.

She got home only to remember her sister was spending the night at her friends house. So she had the place all to herself. She let out a sigh and poured herself a tall glass of wine and sat on the couch thinking about the events of the day. She came up with a plan as she finished her cup and decided that by the end of the week they boys will have met her baby sister. She grabbed her phone and invited the boys to come hang out at her place for once this upcoming weekend. They didn't even ask if her sister would be there.

(Y/N)-

April had gone out to pick up some pizza for a late night dinner. I had school, homework, and some video editing to do and forgot to cook. April came home late and said not to worry about it and would grab some pizza. Her new favorite place didn’t offer delivery so she went to go get it. I decided that a nice hot shower sounded good and went in. I got out as I heard the front door open and close. I made my way to my room about to throw on my favorite green sweater only to remember that It had been washed and was in the dryer. So, I wrapped my towel back around me and opened my door to head out into the living room. I walked out and looked up only to meet with 4 pairs of eyes.

“Oh my bad,” I said, turning to go back to my room only to stop and turn right back around. “Ummmm…” I trailed off not sure what to say as I stared at 4 very large, very green, oddly human like turtles, all while in a bath towel that left most of my left hip exposed.

“Oh hi (y/n). I forgot to mention I had friends coming over.” April said walking into the room. “You might wanna put some clothes on though.”

“Yeah…” I said not able to look away from the very large turtle creatures sitting in the living room.

[m4gp13]

I generally try to keep relationshippy type posts more platonic on my blog but ethabaster shippers (or ethaster, as I’ve seen it referred to) y’all gave me content when there was none, this one’s for you babes <3 Also quick sidenote, this ship has extremely limited content in canon (which is to say, NONE) so a lot of this is based on speculation but bear with me because some of them are actually fairly plausible (or at the very least they aren’t explicitly ruled out by canon). Si tight because this may end up being pretty extensive.

The main reason they are shipped is because they are the only two similarly aged demigods in the titan army that we have any information on (including name) and thus have some small chance of meeting however it would be silly to say this is the only reason and - believe it or not - there are some other interesting reasons on why this is shipped. Keep in mind this is the PJO fandom, a fandom that visibly adores the “the grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one” trope (have y’all seen how popular Solangelo is ???) and in that respect Ethan and Alabsters personalities are easily compatible. 

I can’t recall a single instance in the books where Ethan is described as smiling; he is usually serious, driven and has very sharp responses to questions or statements he doesn’t like (see: “there is no wrong side”, glaring after being asked about his eye and almost pulling a sword on Percy for questioning his mothers motives and ethics). Alabaster on the other hand, while he is still traumatised from the massacre he recently witnessed, does still make ironic comments, smile and he is described at one point as “happy-go-lucky”. And yes, it is important to note that Ethan was with his enemy and Alabaster was with an ally during pretty much every page we see them in, the fact that Ethan had moments ago been rescued by the people he was snapping at and Alabaster still being somewhat cheery despite the horrors he had only just witnessed suggests it is more of a personality thing rather than a situation thing.  

This beloved trope is of course not the only instance of compatibility between the two. For example, Ethan’s story ended with him giving up the notion of getting revenge on the Olympians like kronos wanted and instead giving his life to pursue and fulfill his original goal of balance. On the contrary, Alabasters story is currently in a state in which vengeance helps keep him going; he sites revenge as the only thing that would make him go anywhere near chb. This sort of balances them out and creates and interesting dynamic and it would be a joy to see them interact after this but considering Ethan’s current predicament I don’t think that’s likely except in fics. (although in this Ethans calmer demeanor would make him the sunshine one and Alabaster with his John Wick revenge plot would be the grumpy one).

They also have a lot in common but not so much that they start looking like mirrors. They are both clearly passionate about their cause, both of them are willing to kill and die for what they believe is right. They both openly express how strongly they feel to the conflict and they didn’t get so far in the army by being apathetic to what everyone around them is fighting for. Alabaster was chosen to lead the demigods into battle and Ethan is definitely a person of note in the army from the things we’ve seen him do (meaning they had a very high chance of meeting during their time in the army). However, Alabaster and Ethan view the army in very different ways. Al clearly sees the army as a heroic force from his “hero’s never die, right?” line while Ethan isn’t so black and white with his world view which we know from his “there is no wrong side” line. This means that they are similar enough to have common interests that they can bond over while still being separate people that can act on their own wishes, desires or simple personalities. (because sometimes it’s nice when characters are characters instead of just existing to serve a ship)

They understand each other. As they were both high ranking members of the titan army with similar goals they will have had similar experiences and therefore know things about each other that most people just can’t; as in, they don’t have the experience necessary to understand them like they understand each other. This is very appealing from an observers perspective because a lot of the time people don’t want grand declarations of love and massive bouquets, they just want someone to know them intimately enough to be truly in love.

They also have a lot of story potential both before and after Ethan’s death. Especially if you consider the fact that Al could have saved Ethan or brought him back as a mistform. People like drama and intentionally or not seek out dramatic things. Ethan and Al’s storys are dramatic enough on their own but when you put them together and then imagine all the things they could have done or could do!!! The spice! The flavour! The DRAMA!!! and the intrigue. They are both very interesting characters that can pique one’s curiosity easily. When people are curious about characters they look more into them, think about them more and in some cases this leads to shipping.

Another reason is simple vibes. Sometimes you just look at some characters and go “yeah bro those guys vibe together” and that’s that. Your ship has been chosen by the Vibes ain’t nothing you can do about it. 

These aren't the only reasons of course but these are the only ones coming to my mind; if you have others please tell me. Now that we’ve got a couple of reasonings of why they’re shipped it’s time to look at their canon interactions. Since there are none you may expect me to skip this part entirely but you underestimate my devotion to both my favourite (platonic and romantic) ship and ✨obsessing over throwaway lines that only exist to give the readers a clearer image of a scene in their head rather than any plot important reasons✨. That’s right fellas it’s over analysis time (as the old saying goes, “if i cannot find homoerotic subtext, I will create it”) !!!

Before we begin, fear not avid lovers of sticking to things explicitly mentioned in the books, my argument is not “On page 228 of my copy of battle of the labyrinth, Ethan is first mentioned by a demigod holding a torch. Alabasters mother is the goddess Hecate and one of Hecate’s symbols is the torch therefore Alabaster is the person who found Ethan and thus the first times both are mentioned is in conjunction with each other which means boyfriends”, although I will admit my mind did have fun spiraling down to that little tidbit.

We know from the son of magic that Alabaster was able to use his magic to protect himself from the Princess Andromeda exploding but we are never given an explanation on how Ethan survived. I have mentioned this theory before and I’m going to say again the idea that Alabaster used the same magic to save Ethan that he used on himself. Alabaster doesn’t mention Ethan when he tells Claymore how he survived but remember he is still traumatized and it is anything but rare for trauma victims to seriously suppress their trauma (for example: almost watching a close companion being blown up right in front you and knowing that you are the only thing standing between them and breaking their toe on the big bad bucket) Of course there are reasons this might not work such as Ethan leaving the main deck to go to the engine room before the ship blows and Alabaster, being a high commanding officer, was likely on the deck when she blew however, Alabaster could have easily given Ethan some kind of magical protection before hand as they were warned of the anti Andromeda plot and will have prepared for any possible outcome. 

Another deadly event that Ethan miraculously survived is the bridge incident. Realistically, do you genuinely believe that an unconscious, minorly wounded kid is going to be able to drag his unconscious body through a massive crowd of tightly packed teenagers, to the other side of a very large bridge and get far enough away from that bridge to be safe from it completely collapsing all by himself ??? We already know Alabaster is powerful enough to survive an explosion of greek fire so a collapsing bridge should be nothing to him, even if he is lugging around his friends limp almost-corpse. Also, if you like the trope of character A lovingly teasing character B then there’s nothing to say Alabaster wasn’t the “nice knowing ya” guy and, If you prefer it when character A ruthlessly defends character B from silly jabs then there’s also nothing to say Alabaster didn’t stomp on the guys foot the second Ethan left. 

Another thing, ya know how Al has a bit of a revenge thing that he might need to tone down ever so slightly? Who better to help with that than a kid whose mum is the goddess of that kind of thing?! And yes, I know Ethan was already dead at that point but also, I don’t care; it can sort itself out. Anyway, I feel like with Nemesis kids it’s less of a “constantly seeking revenge for everything” and more of a “having a deeper understanding of revenge and therefore more able to regulate who does or doesn’t need some vengeance in their life”. It would have been interesting if Ethan survived and sorta coached Al on his feelings and how to deal with them in the least destructive way possible.

Also, as I mentioned before they are both high ranking individuals in the titan army. Al is chosen to lead the demigod forces into battle and Ethan seems to get called on by Kronos for a lot of specific tasks i.e. the sword of Hades, capturing Beckendorf, guarding Prometheus and being with Kronos during what he thought would be his final victory. From this we can assume that they probably worked pretty close together as the only high ranking demigods aside from Luke that we know of. All other important people in the army are titans, monsters or gods. As the only two demigods with such importance they probably gravitated towards each other and bonded over their workloads, goals or other things that people talk about before developing more intimate feelings (I assume but anyone who knows how relationships work please correct me if I’m wrong)

Also, a couple of things I noticed is what drives them is, at surface level, the same thing. They both want the Olympians to back up a bit and allow for the minor deity’s to receive some of the respect that has been with held from them for centuries. However, Al is more deeply motivated by his emotions while Ethan is not so much. Al expresses anger at the gods and disdain, he almost immediately latches on to the closest father figure he can get and gets notably excited when it appears he’s about to win and distraught when he thinks he’s lost. Ethan is motivated less by hatred for the gods but by a less emotionally draining thought of the minor gods deserve respect. He never gets emotionally invested in tasks, even life or death ones, unless attacked with something personal (he was generally apathetic during the parley until Percy started insulting him and his mother).

 This could be due to Al being allowed to openly express emotion while Ethan has been taught to suppress it. What evidence do I have for this? Their mothers. To Nemesis, Ethan is a tool, a means to an end, a “thing” to use so she can get the desired outcome. To her, taking his eye and telling him to join the army was little different from drilling a hole in a board. She took a part of his body as payment so she clearly doesn’t see him as or care that he is his own person with thoughts, feelings and desires of his own. Hecate on the other hand actively acknowledges that her son has his on interests ideas and she wants to see him happy which is a complete U turn from Nemesis. We know that Al ans Hecate have regular enough conversations through dreams but we don’t know if Ethan ever met Nemesis after the eye thing. So we know that Al has contact with a mother that not only supports him but actively uses her powers to improve his life (see Claymore) and Ethan saw his mother once, was presumably traumatized and never saw her again. Big yikes. (Also the reason that Hecate stopped resisting the Olympians was because they threatened her with Al’s life. If Nemesis was the one who chose to resist and Ethan was still alive would she have stopped to keep him alive? I doubt it)

But yeah that’s pretty much all possible character interactions they could have had, the rest is up to our dear old friend, imagination. have fun kids. Also pretty much everything here can be read as platonic sooo.

[idreamofhazel]

The Boyking: Chapter 7

Characters/pairings: Dallas, Bobby, Dean, Castiel

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: This story is overall angsty. Read the masterpost description to get the full idea. I will put specific, important warnings on each chapter unless there are none.

A/N: Surprise! I’m still writing this. This is the only thing I am writing at the moment, when I can. I had actual quiet time the other night and pulled up this doc. After some edits, I figured it was good enough to post. So here’s another chapter for those of you still reading <3

The man with piercing blue eyes pushed his way through. Looking around the room, his eyes fell on the symbols. “Where’s the blood?”

“The fridge,” Bobby said.

Nobody moved or talked. The man disappeared through another doorway and reappeared moments later with a jar half-full of the thick, red liquid. He began repainting the symbols in the hall, quickly but with care, eventually disappearing into other rooms of the house to continue his work. 

Dallas crossed her arms and tapped her foot, letting her eyes float aimlessly around the room. Neither Dean nor Bobby said a word. 

Several long, silent minutes passed before the blue-eyed man returned downstairs, putting the now-empty jar in the kitchen. He returned to the hall and nodded at Bobby. The collective tension lifted.

“Why are you here?” Dean, now able to speak, asked Dallas.

“Looking for you,” she said plainly. “Your brother seemed very concerned.”

Dean seemed to share Dallas’s surprise at Sam’s level of concern.  

“I think the more important question is why she had to be here,” Bobby interrupted. 

“We need to talk in the panic room,” the other man interrupted. 

No one protested. Everyone followed Bobby, Dallas last in line, through the hall, and a door in the kitchen, and then down a flight of stairs. At the bottom was a standard dark, damp basement, large and filled with cluttered, metal shelves. They walked through the room and up to a large steel door. Bobby opened the door with a yank of the oversized handle, the massive hinges squeaking in protest. 

They all stepped inside and Bobby shut the door behind them. A loud thud sounded and echoed off the cavernous, cylinder walls. Dallas’s eyes went wide as she gazed up to the ceiling where a fan turned, circulating air throughout the structure. Her gaze floated back down to eye-level, and she noticed the cabinets of rations and a lonely cot off to the side that pathetically decorated the space. The hunter seemed to have stocked the room with supplies intended for an indefinite lockdown. 

Dean’s friend was the first to speak again. “We’ve been running from an angel, and we had to lay low for a couple of days.”

Dallas’s eyes grew wide. “Angel?” she blurted out.

All eyes were on her, and specifically, the man whose name she didn’t yet know. He squinted, and Dallas felt uncomfortable under the intense gaze.

“Guess I forgot to mention Dean’s friend is an angel,” Bobby said.

“Seriously? I mean, I’ve heard stories but--”

Bobby gave Dallas a reassuring nod. “But Castiel here’s a little different, a little more human than most angels, and we trust him with our lives.”

“And what is your name?” Castiel questioned. 

“Dallas,” she answered. 

“This is the hunter I was talking about,” Dean added.

Castiel spent a longer time looking at Dallas, analyzing her, than Bobby had when she first appeared on his doorstep. She crossed her arms as if the action would add a barrier to his piercing gaze, protecting her heart, and her secrets, from the celestial creature.

“So, can I ask why an angel was chasing you?” Bobby asked, having no time for the awkward silences.

Castiel broke his gaze with Dallas, attention turning to Bobby. “We went looking for clues about an artifact,” Castiel answered, “stolen from a missing collector, Bela Talbot. I believe you all knew her?”

Dallas tucked away her reaction as an uneasy feeling began to grow in her stomach.

“What artifact?” Bobby asked.

“An angel blade, which I first believed to be a common blade wielded by the common angel, such as myself. But then one of my sisters showed up at Bela’s home and told us she was meant to watch over the house. This omission seemed to be an oversight of communication between our superiors at first. I was not told there would be any angels watching the house. But the more questions I asked, she began to act strangely.” 

Dallas felt a pit growing inside her stomach, gnawing at her insides, churning the contents of her stomach, as she maintained a calm outer appearance. There’s no way they could connect me to Bela. I didn’t leave behind evidence. I made sure of it.

“I was told by an angel named Zachariah to look for clues. When I communicated with the other angel’s superiors, they acted as if they knew nothing about my quest. Someone is lying, but I’m not sure who. This angel at the house, she attacked me. That’s why we had to flee.” Castiel finished solemnly.

“What was it you were saying about the angel blade? What’s so special about it?” Bobby asked.

“As I said, common angels such as myself and my superiors all carry the same, simple angel blade.” He pulled a blade out from under his trench coat, demonstrating his description. “Silver, a straight blade, but the highest rank of angels, the archangel, carry a modified, more powerful version. The blade is twisted and slightly bigger than a standard blade, but also silver. I was told by Zachariah that this is the kind of blade that was stolen from Bela. It is unclear whether Bela knew what she had in her possession.”

Dallas stared at Castiel’s angel blade, know immediately that her blade--the one she stole, the one that Ruby now possessed--looked nothing like the one in front of her.

“Did you find anything about who took it?” Bobby asked.

Dean answered this time. “Not much. But the warding in that place nearly knocked Cas on his feet, which means whoever stole the blade is most likely human. That and they shot up the safe where Bela had it locked up. Couldn’t find any shells, though.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment until Dean finally looked over at Dallas.

“You ok?” he asked. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Dallas couldn’t take her eyes of Castiel’s weapon. “Yeah, just, uh, the whole angel, archangel, angel blade thing.”

Dean chuckled. “It’s like that for everyone the first time.”

“Yes,” Castiel added, putting his blade back under his coat, “I imagine it’s been very challenging, especially after meeting Sam Winchester. How has your stay in Hell been?”

“Dark, boring, uneventful,” she rattled off, “Nothing special really.”

Castiel’s interest seemed piqued. “Sam, he treats you decently?”

“Yeah, I guess. He feeds me. Hasn’t put me up on a torture rack yet,” Dallas gave a half-hearted smile, then tucked her arms together again and looked away. Sam Winchester has treated me… decently. The words felt like betrayal on her mind’s tongue.

His curiosity sated, for the time being, Castiel turned to Dean. “What will you tell Sam?”

“I’ll tell him the truth. Don’t know if it’s connected to anything, but he’ll want to know.”

“I agree,” Castiel added. “It seems my family may be up to something in secret. I’ll be keeping some distance from heaven for now.”

“Well, I guess my only question after all this, is whether or not my house is going to be blasted to smithereens by some angry angels in the near future.” Bobby sounded half-serious, half-joking.

“Maybe, but it's unlikely. If you stay in this room most of the time, you should stay alive if that were to happen,” Castiel stated. 

“Gee, thanks,” Bobby remarked. 

Dean now looked at Dallas. “You heading back with me?”

Dallas considered refusing, hopping into Sam’s loaner, and driving across the border to Mexico. She could start a hunting career by the beach, maybe find La Llorona or El Chupacabra. That would be a nice life, calm life. But this life would still be here, not gone, only paused, waiting for her the second she got bored or dragged back in. And that was no way to live anyway, with no aim or purpose, a history waiting to attack her the second she lets her guard down. 

“Sure am,” she said. “How are we getting back?”

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[justkending]

Just Roommates. Chapter 27.

Series Summary: These two college friends have had years to grow together. Each being the others support system, adventure buddy, movie night partner, and dorky roommates. That is until things start coming to a new light in their relationship. At least for him… Is there something else there? Is it possible? Were these feelings always there?

Pairing: (Modern) Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warning: Fluff, Adulting, sexy-times mentions, language.

Word Count: 2700+

A/N: This is a very simple chapter, but I needed it for the next chapter:) Hope you enjoy!!

Chapter 27:

"That's perfect right there! Thank you!"

Y/N was instructing the movers bringing in the last of their furniture while her and Wanda started unloading items for the kitchen. Steve, Sam, Clint, Wanda, and Vision had all pitched in their cars as ways to help with moving the smaller boxes from their flat. Nat and Maria were going to be there within the next hour.

Bucky was out by the cars with Steve bringing in a few more hauls of the boxes.

"So, when's the engagement party?" Steve asked.

"I honestly think Y/N's just going to count this move in party as the engagement party. She's not one for all the formal events. Which I'm perfectly fine with," Bucky smiled, re-adjusting his grip on the larger box as they walked up the porch.

"Really? How are we supposed to get you two gifts if we didn't know this was the engagement party?" Steve asked.

"Don't act like you guys didn't all bring some housewarming gift. I saw you all casually trying to hide your little gift bags and stuff. Horrible hiding by the way," Bucky chuckled as Steve opened the door for to the two of them.

"Housewarming gifts are different from engagement gift," the blonde countered.

"I guess, but we really don't need anything. We just want to hang out with you guys in our new home. That's enough for us both," Bucky shrugged, putting the boxes down and turning to see Wanda and Y/N laughing in the kitchen.

"You know, Bucky, just a year ago you would be all over the material things. Something I think Bonnie would have played a part in and also been ecstatic for," Steve smiled looking at his friend. "The fact that's not even a thought for you shows how lucky you got Buck. You and Y/N both got lucky."

Bucky couldn't looked away from Y/N. She was in her 'moving overalls' as she called them since apparently she had so many they all had a special purpose. Her hair was in a messy bun with a head scarf wrapped keeping her wayward curls out of her face. Failing at at its job, but still cute nonetheless. One of the overall shoulders wasn't hooked and was hanging off her shoulder. She was laughing and pointing something out to Wanda in the living room.

"I did get lucky. The woman has taught me more things than I cared to know existed. And because of that I'm a lot more content and happy with my life." Bucky sent a single nod and smile after making eye contact with Y/N who blushed and winked back at him. "I'm on a high Steve, and I haven't fell from it in 6+ months."

"I feel you brother," Steve said squeezing Bucky's shoulder.

"You feel me?" Bucky said with a small laugh knowing Steve was as single as could be. "How do you-" When Steve's reaction was just a dopey smile as if he were lost in space, Bucky's eyebrows shot up. "You punk! You're seeing someone and you didn't tell me?!"

"Hey, hey. Quiet!" Steve said, putting his hands out in surrender. "I-I just wanted to see how things would go and didn't want anyone to get their hopes up, but... Yeah... There's a girl."

"Steve, that's amazing!" Bucky said, pulling him into a hug. "How long?"

"Remember Dr. Erskine from your charity gala?" Bucky nodded. "One of his shadows for his work happens to be in the geriatric field, and he mentioned the senior home to her. She came by for a visit to see the home for some research and we kinda hit it off." Steve had a blush creeping up his neck and was rubbing the back of it in nerves.

"Well, what's her name? What was she doing research for? How old is she? Blonde or Brunette? Or maybe redhead-" Bucky started spouting out questions.

"Her name is Margaret, but she goes by Peggy. She does different funding for senior homes and is doing research in veterans history. She's trying to write a book right now about different stories of WWII vets and Vietnam vets. She's just a few years older than me," Steve answered with a laugh. "And brunette. The most beautiful brown hair and brown eyes I've ever seen on a woman..."

Bucky watched as Steve once again drifted into a dream world. He knew how that went considering it happened to him practically every time he thought of Y/N.

"I'm happy for you Stevie. And don't worry, I'll keep it on the down low. I know how important the beginning of a relationship is, and with our friend group, I'm not going to chance ruining that," Bucky laughed half joking, half being serious.

"You can tell Y/N. Just  Y/N though," Steve laughed.

"Ok, good. That was my next question..." Bucky grinned.

"Come on. Let's get you moved in," Steve nudged as they went back outside for another load.

___________

"Y/N, this place is going to be beautiful!" Nat said, raising her glass as the group of friends sat in the living room on the new furniture.

There were boxes scattered everywhere in their designated rooms, some opened but not unpacked. Only things out were some coasters for the end tables, and a few accent pillows that came with the couches today.

"It's true. I saw some of the decorations you have boxed up, and just by the looks of it this place is going to be stunning," Maria nodded, taking a sip of her wine.

"How many bedrooms?" Clinton budded in.

"Four including the master. So enough for you guys to crash if you ever get too drunk to leave," Bucky winked wrapping his arms around Y/N's middle on the chair they were snuggled into.

"Careful to make that offer. I may never leave," Sam laughed with a smirk.

"Everyone but you," Bucky said with a fake glare.

"You see how he treats me, Y/N? So mean and for no reason," Sam fake pouted.

"Oh, quit it you two. Always teasing the other until someone actually gets their feelings hurt," Y/N waved them off. "Sam, you are more than welcome to stay here when you want."

"Thank you," he said in a proud tone as if he won.

"Of course after day 3 there will be a rent fee," Y/N added with a smirk of her own as she took a long sip of her drink.

"Hey!" Sam said, choking on his drink a little.

"That's my girl," Bucky laughed.

"So what did you guys decide on for the flat? Are you going to sell it or..." Wanda asked turning to them from where she was sat by Vis.

"I'm going to rent it out for cheap to some college kids. No point in bumping the price when I don't really need the extra money. I remember how hard it was for people to find affordable housing during that time, and that way I can still keep it. It's already paid off," Bucky answered.

"That's a good idea and sweet of you. College me would have jumped for a place to stay like that for cheap," Nat nodded.

"Y/N thought of it. I was going to sell it, but made better sense to just rent it out," Bucky shrugged.

"Ok, enough boring adult talk! Tell us how it happened!" Maria jumped in.

"Gotta be more specific sis," Y/N laughed.

"The proposal! We've all seen the ring! Now give us the details!"

"Ok, ok. You wanna tell it or me?" Y/N turned to Bucky who just smiled and shrugged.

"We both can, but you start."

"Ok," she smiled before turning to the group. "So we came out here just to set up some lights and see the finished product of the house."

The rest of the story later, the girls were ooing and aweing at the sentiment. The men just grinning and sending smirks to Bucky for the romantic kind of man he apparently had been hiding from them.

After some more catching up, Y/N giving the girls room tours as well as sharing her decor ideas, while Bucky took the guys out and showed them the land and what they planned to build, the crew started packing up.

Bucky and Y/N said goodbye to everyone as they packed into their cars, and waved to them until they were out the driveway and headed back to the city.

Y/N let out a sigh and turned back to the house. Bucky followed and wrapped his arms around her as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"We have a lot of unboxing to do," she said.

"Yep, but we unpacked a lot tonight. Let's save the rest for tomorrow."

"Yeah, ok." She turned back and gave him a hug as she fell into him. "I love you."

"I love you even more Y/N. Let's go to bed."

________

The next night, Bucky got a call from work saying they had a business trip that Stark had set up for the two to travel and speak with a few investors on some new projects. Something that was bound to take place in the merger. It just so happened to come up when the two were moving in and had a shit ton of boxes to unpack.

"How long?" Y/N asked once Bucky got done explaining Starks travel plans, and they unboxed some items for one of the guest rooms.

"Sounds like a couple of weeks. No more than two, hopefully only one," Bucky sighed. "I can see if I can make it shorter. I don't want to leave you to unpack all by yourself, and maybe the investors-"

"What are you talking about?" Y/N laughed, stopping and turning to Bucky from the bedside table she was organizing. "You don't have to make your work shorter just because I need help unpacking some boxes."

"Well, no, but-"

"I know what you're doing B. It's not going to work."

"I'm not doing anything..." Bucky mumbled, looking down at the bed frame he was currently screwing in the last few pieces into place for.

"You don't want to travel with Stark for up to two weeks, and you're using moving as an excuse. Nope. Nuh uh. You're going mister," she said matter a factly as she plugged in the bed side lamp and brushed her hands off.

"And what if I don't want to go cause I don't want to leave you?" Bucky said with a raised eyebrow standing up.

"It's your work Bucky. You're going to have to leave sometimes to take care of business." Her hands were crossed over her chest and hip popped. Bucky places his hands on his hips in an attempt to mock her sass.

"You want me out of the house or something?" he joked.

"No... I've just noticed you've been pushing work to the side, and trying to distract yourself from it and using the house as an excuse."

"I'm not-"

"James Buchanan Barnes. You have a huge, crazy busy, growing, multimillion dollar business to run. You can't keep distancing yourself from it just because you don't like Stark all that much," she said, taking a step closer and Bucky matched her.

He paused. She was right. He had been finding any excuse to work from home, or only going in during times Stark wasn't there. He still was extremely annoyed by the man, and the less time he spent with him the better. On the other hand he had been really excited about living with Y/N and being with her more now that they were engaged. 

Screw knowing each other for years. The man was in the honeymoon phase still, and hadn't even glimpsed outside of the puppy love he had for her.

"But what if I don't want to..." he pouted moving closer and putting his hands on her hips as he pulled her in.

"Sucks. You're the big boss man whether you like it or not," she shrugged, still crossing her arms with a playful gleam in her eyes.

"You're kinda scary. You know that?" Bucky chuckled tilting his head to her.

"When I need to be, yes. That's not new news," she said with a sly smirk. "So on that note. Let's get you packed for your trip."

"But-"

"Nope! No excuses bossman!" she said walking out the door to their room.

_________

Y/N was right. This was a big opportunity for the business, and even though Bucky was getting comfortable spending his time with Y/n in their new house, and as a newly engaged couple, he did need to get out and actually work.

The trip ended up being a week and half. Y/N having to stay behind to handle some housing things like plumbing, gas, land surveying and all that fun stuff. That and she still had her job as a personal trainer/ yoga instructor, so she couldn't just up and leave with only a day's notice for almost two weeks.

The two facetimed and talked every night and day. Y/N showing him new places she had got around to decorating and layouts and ideas for the land.

What Bucky didn't know was that Y/N had the girls over almost every night to help her finish up unpacking and decorating before he came home. Sometimes Steve and Sam too if she needed some more heavy duty help.

"Y/N, this is all so stunning. He's going to be so surprised when he gets home," Nat smiled as they all stood looking at the newly decorated home.

"Really? You think? It's not too much is it?" she questioned bringing her hand to her chin as she examined the room they were currently in.

"He's going to love it Y/N. Anything you do he loves, but this is crazy impressive," Steve added as he packed up his tool box. "You ever thought about interior design?"

"That's what Bucky said," Y/N laughed. "And now that I have so many people asking me that," she looked at Maria, Wanda, and Nat who had also been commenting on it all day, "It's starting to sound like a possible fun side-job."

"Well, I'll pay you to come revamp my apartment if you do anything close to this," Maria grinned, taking a swig from a beer bottle.

"You got it," Y/N laughed. "Ok, I need to go pick him up from the airport in about an hour, so I'm going to go get changed and do a few last minute things. Thanks again you guys for coming out here and helping."

"Anytime! Maria and I love the scenic drive here, and it gives us a chance to see your fucking gorgeous home," Nat smirked bumping her hip with Y/N.

"That and you know you can always call if you need a handy man when Bucks not here," Steve added, picking up the tool box.

"Thanks for that Stevie. I appreciate you," she said giving him a small peck on the cheek.

"Yeah, I'm just here for the free alcohol," Wanda teased as she downed the rest of her beer. "Helps when Nat's driving."

The crew laughed at the red head and started heading for the door.

"Let us know what he thinks! And when you guys are ready, we can have a housewarming party since it's all done!" Nat shouted as she walked to the car.

"Will do! Love you guys! Drive safe!" Y/N shouted and waved from the porch as they loaded up and made their way down the long driveway.

Once they were out of sight, Y/N turned to look at the finished product of their home. The lights on the porch were hung and turned on. The inside was lit up and bringing life and a sense of comfort to it.

"How did I get so lucky?" Y/N sighed as she thought about the life that was to come with her special person. All she had to do was pick him up from the airport, and yet another milestone would be made.

(Ok pictures are coming next chapter!) 

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[pinkykitten]

Uncertain Hunting

Avatar (James Cameron)

Tsu’tey x dream walker! female reader

Warnings: 1 cuss word, hunting

Specifics: hunting, comedy, fluff, romance, man vs nature, na’vi language, training, race neutral reader, dream walker reader

People: Tsu’tey te Rongloa Ateyitan, you, Jake Sully (mentioned), Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at’ite (mentioned), Grace Augustine (mentioned),  Norm Spellman (mentioned), two other trainees from the movie (mentioned)

Words: 1,533

Summary: As a dreamwalker learning the ways of the Na’vi people you must learn how to hunt. Of course your teacher is the stern Tsu’tey. He must teach you all that you need to know. 

Authors Note: where do i begin...*sigh* THIS IS ONE OF THE GREATEST MOVIES EVER MADE!!!!! i fell in luv with it when i first saw it in 2009, i have always wanted to write about it but my writing wasnt really that good back then and i was still self conscious about my writing. but now i am going to try to rebuild this fandom, i am going to try to make it luved again. it will take time but oh well. also my sis luvs tsu’tey, like that is her husband. i am so excited to show this to you guys, and to kinda write something i want to write (not that it means i dont like writing what u guys request cuz trust me i totally do). get ready to see more of avatar and request if u want to about this fandom, trust me it will make my day. i hope u guys like this as much as i do and feedback is always appreciated! no this was not requested. 

You were taught many things in your life. Taught how to care for yourself, how to be your own person. 

You also studied the Na’vi people for 5 years. Recently, you had gotten your avatar body. It was such an experience, to feel more alive. 

All the hard work paid off in the end. 

You and others such as your friend Jake Sully, Grace Augustine, and Norm Spellman came to Pandora to research the land and take some samples. 

That is until Jake had to start making a ruckus and you and Jake got lost. But maybe Jake didn’t do such a dimwitted act after all. 

You both then found, well Neytiri found you both, and took you and Jake into her clan. 

This, you felt was what you trained for all your life. To learn and try to become one of them, and to earn their trust. 

“Agh this stupid horse...thing!” You shouted at the ground, stomping at how frustrated you were. 

Trying to climb this...horse, or excuse me 

yeah, direhorse, or what Tsu’tey taught you, pa’li, was like trying to climb a mountain. 

“You are not trying hard enough. Again,” Tsu’tey instructed you. 

You peered over to see your poor friend, Jake, also failing, making you laugh. 

“Over here,” Tsu’tey grabbed your chin to get your attention to what you were doing. 

“Okay, okay, okay.” You huffed, walking backwards a good enough distance, and then with all your speed you sprinted forward, ending it with a jump. 

As you looked under you, you saw you were indeed riding a direhorse. 

“Look Tsu’tey I did it!”

Just then the direhorse, sped away at the contact. You desperately holding on for your dear life. 

“Tsaheylu y/n! Mend the bond,” Tsu’tey shouted, while running after you. 

All you could do was erupt a helpless scream, “I SHOULD HAVE NEVER DONE THIS!”

As you look up ahead you spot a cliff, “oh no.”

If you don’t form the bond now, you were going to be flung off the cliff. 

“Tsaheylu, tsaheylu, tsaheylu,” you whispered to yourself. With some struggles, you grasped your braid and put the queue in its place, to make the bond with the animal. 

“Y/n,” Tsu’tey yelled with a worried tone. 

“Stop!” You yell before you almost, with a just a little more, fall off the cliff. The direhorse’s breathing softens and you are one with the animal. 

“What was that?”

You peer at Tsu’tey, then you burst out into laughter. I mean you almost died but the look on Tsu’tey’s face was priceless. 

You gave an evil grin, “wow. You actually were scared for me. You actually worried about me. I’m shocked, I am s h o o k e d all the way to my bones.”

Tsu’tey looked away, bashfully, giving you a tsk and a scowl, “ skxawng.” (idiot, moron)

“You know you love me, I can see it in your menari.” (eyes) 

Tsu’tey gave you a look of suprisement, his yellow cat like eyes widening. 

“Whats next... karyu?” (teacher) You straightened up. 

“Are you serious,” you opened your mouth wide. 

After your fiasco with the direhorse, your next lesson was to learn how to hunt. 

“You do realize this is life or death? Like I could die!”

Tsu’tey nodded, “well if you should die y/n, at least you still would have your other form, your other body.”

Rolling your eyes you puffed out your cheeks, “thanks for the reassurement.”

Out of the bushes came the other two students of Tsu’tey’s. They communicated in the Na’vi language making you feel left out. You were nervous and a bit embarrassed with having to learn these things with the other two students. They knew so much and they were younger than you. It made you feel self-conscious. 

Shaking your head you pushed those thought out. You regained your posture and interrupted the conversation, since the group was laughing, probably making fun of you. 

You spent 5 years learning about these people, you dam* right you were gonna learn how to hunt. 

“Are we ready to begin?”

Tsu’tey gave you a glare and then nodded. He explained to you how you and another group, which included Neytiri and Jake were also going to hunt. 

You breathed in and out, scared to what the outcome might be. You felt a large hand on your shoulder. You look to see that it is Tsu’tey, “you will be alright, I am here.”

You smiled at his comment and placed your hand on his shoulder. 

This next part will be inspired by this scene: 

Avatar DELETED Scenes 3 look up on youtube these words

On a direhorse you try to catch a sturmbeest or how the Na’vi call it a talioang. Carrying your bow n arrow, your direhorse runs by the creatures. A stampede, their legs booming with such power. They sprint as a herd, trying to get away from the hunting. 

You spot one that is close to you and try to shoot it with an arrow. The arrow hits its hardened skin at the top, and the arrow breaks. 

“Crap,” you mutter under your breath. 

The sound of banshees, or ikran’s makes you look up to see Neytiri and Jake (jake aint that high up in social standards yet he still is training) and a group of others. 

Your attention was to them that you almost forgot that you had to watch out that you didn’t interfere with a sturmbeest. Thankfully you looked just in time, you were about to knock into one. 

“Nari si (watch out, be careful),” yells Tsu’tey, keeping an eye out for you.

“Sorry,” you shout. Focusing again on hunting. 

You feel a smile creep on your face seeing out of the corner of your eye Tsu’tey watching you. Making sure you are okay. He gives mini glances to the other students but with you, he keeps on the watch. 

You stand up on your direhorse and erupt a war chant, earning a grin from Tsu’tey. As you stand you try to get a good angle at the operculum. 

“C’mon y/n, you got this,” you tell yourself, closing one eye to get a better look at your target. 

Suddenly, a sturmbeest came by your direhorse and knocked it down making you also fall down. But you jumped in time to land on a sturmbeest. 

“Y/n!” Tsu’tey called out to you. Worried laced in his voice. He rode next to you. 

You screamed in fear, holding on for dear life. Other sturmbeests smashing against you, making you almost slip off. That couldn’t happen because then you would be trampled by other sturmbeests. 

You tried to shoot the creature under you, to gain your first kill. Struggling to get the arrow into its operculum, you try but then slip almost falling off. 

“Y/n, you need to jump,” yelled Tsu’tey as he rode next to you. 

“Why?!?”

“Look up,” Tsu’tey exclaimed looking up. 

You move your head to see what laid in front of you.

“Are you serious?!?” You were just not having good luck today. A huge, thick tree was ahead in your path. Sooner or later you would be knocking into the tree. 

“Y/n, listen to me you need to jump,” Tsu’tey ordered you. 

“Wait, I need to kill this thing first.”

“No, we don’t have time. Y/n listen to me.”

“Trust me!” With that you quickly looked behind you to make sure no other sturmbeest or animal was coming next to you on your left. In one swift movement, you jumped to the side of the sturmbeest, you holding on to the side of its neck. You grab your arrow and forcefully, with a cry, stab the animal in its operculum, making it stumble and fall. 

“Tsu’tey,” you quickly make a great, huge jump from the sturmbeest you were riding on to Tsu’tey’s direhorse. 

Tsu’tey caught you in his arms, and then placed you behind him on his direhorse. 

Tsu’tey rides away from the commotion. You taking long breaths and sweat producing on your forehead. 

It is quiet for a couple of minutes and then Tsu’tey starts, “what was that woman? Do you know what you just did?”

You get off the direhorse and land on the grass. “I just did my first kill, I did it!”

Tsu’tey also got off the direhorse, “Y/n, you almost killed yourself! You also almost got others killed!”

“You see the key word is almost, I didn’t-”

“Do you see this as a joke? You could of gotten very hurt today, and I promised to myself and Eywa that I would protect you. You frightened me today y/n.”

“Ngaytxoa (I’m sorry). I just wanted you to be proud of me like how you are with your other students. I want you to see that I am willing to give my all to become a part of your people. To earn your guys trust. I needed to prove to you and, to myself.”

Tsu’tey walked closer to you, a angry scowl on his face. He placed his hands on your shoulders, “Skxawng (moron, idiot) be careful next time.” His face softened into a loving smile. 

He placed his hands on your cheeks, giving them a small caress. 

“And y/n, I am always proud of you.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #176

rape tw

Do you like to have croutons in your salad? Noooonononono. It's a texture thing. Which do you find more irritating - sunburn or bug bites? Sunburn. How many friends do you have on Facebook? Like... 116? How many contacts do you have in your phone? 16. Do you carry any means of protection on you while out in public? No, but I wanna get pepper spray. Would you ever pick up a hitchhiker? No, I'm too paranoid of strangers. Do you know anyone who does cocaine? Not to my knowledge. What is something that most people wouldn’t know about you from simply looking at you? I used to be a super in-shape 117 lb. queen that even then felt slightly fat. :') What’s a quality that your sister has that you absolutely can’t stand? One has a serious temper, the other's... well I dunno. I don't see my older sis enough. Have you ever been to a bachelor or bachelorette party? No. Something you would NEVER buy? Uhhh the first thing that came to my head are snakes that aren't directly from breeders. Both snakes I bought from PetSmart were sick, so. No thanks. Could you wait until marriage for sex? Yeah. Have you ever dated a smoker? If not, would you? No, deal breaker for me. Do you share a middle name with any of your siblings? Yes, Nicole. Do you think your first love still loves you? No, but the feeling's mutual so np. Are you a money saver or spender? I've never had a consistent source of income, but when I do get some from gifts or photography, I've actually proven to be great at saving it for whatever my target is. Hopefully I stay that way when I do have a job. Has a member of the opposite sex ever seen you naked? Yes. Have you ever had to sell something for a school fundraiser? Yup. If you have any piercings, who did them? Claire's did my earlobes, then various people from Garry's Skin Grafix and mostly New Addiction did my piercings. Have you ever cried while watching a movie trailer? No. Have you ever been pulled over, but just let off with a warning? Never been pulled. Have you ever taken shots? (of alcohol) Noooo, been offered to take part I think twice, but it's not something I think I ever want to do considering I loathe the taste of alcohol, hence why I only ever drink fruity things with tiny amounts of alcohol. Do you like mash-up songs? Occasionally, I guess? None even come to mind. Would you ever consider adopting a child with a severe mental illness? No, because I have a plethora of my own and don't want to put a child under the supervision of someone with conditions like mine; as well, I'm sorry, but I need to take care of myself. Took me damn long enough to get here, and I'm not going back to how horrible my life was before out of stress and having to handle a child with a severe mental illness. And oh, did I mention the main reason is because I don't in any capacity want kids? Have you ever pole danced before? No. Have you ever seen a live bat? Yeah. Do you listen to classical music? Not intentionally. Do you tell your parents who you like? Why or why not? No. I'll admit I like someone if they ask, but otherwise I just don't see it necessary to walk up to your guardian and just randomly inform them that you have a crush. Are you due for a haircut? Getting there, maybe almost two months from now. Are you dealing with any health-related problems right now? My OCD's been exceptionally bad lately. Do your parents like the music you listen to? Both like certain artists that I do - a lot, really. I do know I also like heavier stuff than them, though. Do your parents approve of your beliefs? Not all. Who’s the most annoying person in your neighborhood? Don't live in one. Name one of your psycho exes? None. I was honestly the psycho ex. I was very rightfully broken, but I shouldn't have done many things I did. Why were they a psycho ex? ^ I wouldn't leave him the hell alone and would pester him on Facebook too much even when I was ignored and, most regrettably, make just enough time to blame him for my ER visits before leaving until he finally blocked me. I sincerely don't blame him if he does consider me "the psycho ex." What’s the best revenge you ever got on someone? I don't care in the slightest about revenge to even think up a situation where I got any. I've never deliberately fished for it. What screen name did you use in 6th grade? FlowerOurQueen ew. What do you look forward to most in the next six weeks? ih crihmus What’s the last movie you saw? Halloween. Who was the last person to call you? This fucking car insurance agency that calls like every goddamn day. I've answered a couple times thinking that it could be VR and promptly hung up upon finding it wasn't. By now, I recognize the three digits after the area code to just ignore them. Who was the last person to leave you a voicemail? VR. Where is your least favorite place to be? Hospitals. Where is your favorite place to be? Sara's house. Do you think the sanctity of marriage is meant for only a man & woman? lol no, grow up, 0-19-y/o me denying your own sexuality in fear of a "loving" god sending you to Hell. :^) Would you like to learn to play the drums? Nah. Is there anybody you just wish would fall off the planet? Types of people. Name one thing you worry about running out of. Motivation to live, again. Do you post to say happy birthday on other people’s walls? Sometimes. Always with close friends. Have there ever been floods where you live? Oh yeah. Do you listen to K-Pop? No. When was the last time you saw a rainbow? Ummm idr, but not very long ago. Sunshower. What’s your favorite television commercial? I don't watch TV anymore, so I don't know any current ones. But it will probably /always/ be the sexy Mr. Clean one because memories fuck me up. Have you ever tried writing a song? Yes. For one of the Nintendogs tracks. I even moved their heads around to the tune of the song. kms What is your favorite type of juice? Peach/mango. Whose birthday did you last celebrate? My nephew's. When you were a kid, did you have a treehouse? No. We didn't have trees built for that, just very tall pine trees. What was the best school year in your opinion? 7th grade; ironically, the year my depression began to seriously manifest. Do you know (of) anyone who has committed suicide? Sadly. When was the last time you flew on a plane? This past October. Take me back. Do you eat meat every day? No. Who taught you how to ride a bike? Dad. Are you a fan of Lana Del Rey? No. How do you cook your rice? Steam, boil, other? I don't cook. Do you like your country’s president or prime minister? Nope. Some of his policies I side with, but his personality absolutely destroys him for me. Do you wear skirts? No. I absolutely hate my legs. What color is your house? Like this khaki sorta color. How many first cousins do you have? I have zero clue. I don't even think I've met some first ones. Off the very top of my head, I know there's at least... nine? Have you ever seen a pop star in concert? No. Do you listen to Christmas music during the holiday season? No, not a fan of most. It doesn't put me in the "Christmas spirit" anyway. Where would you like to vacation to? The Bahamas baby, Sweden, Japan... What time do you set your alarm to? I don't use mine. Nothing to use it for. Do you like ginger ale? No, unless my stomach is upset. What time does the sun set at the time of year where you live? Like 5, and I hate it. Have you ever been skiing? No. When was the last time you moved house? Feb. of last year. What did you last feel nervous about? How in god's name am I blanking here??????????? Over something incredibly trivial, I'm sure. Do you find yourself saying mean things to people over the internet that you wouldn’t say in real life? No. Who is the last person to text you? Sara. Does the person you like know it? HAHA she's got a pretty good idea. Who of the opposite sex has seen you at your worst? Jason or Girt. Girt came to the hospital after hearing about my OD, so my mental state was obviously shit, but Jason saw me in more obvious, externally-expressed emotional breakdowns. Did you have a nap today? Yes. I've been waking up much too early lately. What was the last movie you saw that you really liked? Really liked? Probs Jumanji. Do your best friends live near you? Ha, no. Do you have any stuffed animals saved from when you were a child? A LOT. When is the next time you are traveling outside of the state, province, or country? Where to? I'm sure sometime next year to Sara's. What are your living arrangements currently? Are you happy with them? I live with just my mom and pets. It's fine, though I wish I was emotionally prepared to move out. Hell, and obviously financially. Have you ever had feelings for someone your best friend was dating? N- oh yeah yes, in the Jenna situation. Though I don't truly recall what *kind* of feelings exactly I had. Is there anything written on the shirt you’re wearing? No, surprisingly. How was your first kiss? Super cute. Do you still talk to the person you shared it with? No. Are you the oldest of your siblings? No. Have you ever dated someone who had kids? No; that's a deal-breaker for me. I am not being a mother figure to any child, especially when it's not my own. Have you kissed someone 4 or more years older than you? No. Were your parents married when you were born? Yeah. Does the last person you kissed have tattoos? No. Do you live within 20 miles of where you were born? Yeah. What is your opinions on Valentine's Day? Cheesetastic, is it not? No no no no no I LOVE it!!!! I can't stand that "ugh every day you should appreciate love" shit 'cuz like, why not have a day specifically wrapped around it? Is it hurting anyone in any way shape or form?? What is the last thing you wrote? (typing is not writing, btw) My signature, probably? Do you have an outfit that you consider your "seduction outfit"? lul no. What is the last fruit you have eaten? Uhhh good question. I'm only just back on solids. What was the last injection you received? Was it sore? At the dentist when I had to get a cavity filled. They had to give me no less than 6-7 shots in the same spot to numb me properly, so yeah, it was sore. Have you ever been badly bitten by an animal? No. Favorite sandwich? I'll never turn down a ham, cheese, and mustard one. What characteristics do you despise? Arrogance, manipulative, lack of compassion, anger, two-faced, entirely insensitive, rudeness, raunchiness, the inability to accept one is sometimes wrong and that that's okay, BEING A DRAMA NEST HINT HINT, and I could go on... Where would you retire to? The mountains. What was your most memorable birthday? My 21st. Supposed to be your greatest celebration, yet I was in the mental hospital. It still means the goddamn world to me how my peers and employees tried to make it special. What did you want to be when you were little? First an archaeologist, then a vet. I think I only changed my mind upon realizing the original would've been extremely difficult. Have your parents ever forgotten your birthday? No. Would you rather have some bacon or beef jerky? Bacon. I'm actually not a big fan of the latter, it's too dry and tough. Did the Spanish classes have an “El Dia de Los Muertos” (Day of the Dead) fiesta at school? I don't know, I didn't take Spanish. What’s the most number of comments you have on a Facebook picture? What is the picture of? I have zero clue. Do you like coconut flavored things? nooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I really don't like coconuts. Have you ever met a famous author before? No. Do you know anybody who has been raped before? I don't believe so? I know many who've been violated or molested, but I don't believe I know a rape victim. How often do you get a fever? Like never. What makes you lose your appetite? Unappetizing scenes or smells and feeling/being sick. Are there any childhood habits you are grateful for or regret? I was taught good manners, for one. I wish chores had been more enforced upon all of us. At what age did you start to wear makeup? Did your mom object at first? I think 9th grade was when I "officially" started? It was freshman year and I had that "it's a new start and you're (this old) now, at least try to look pretty for once" mentality with how my self esteem was on the decline. I did it every day for a long time, until one day I didn't put on anything because I was tired of it and my art classmates (I was close to them) literally asked if I was okay lmao. From then on out, it was sporadic; eyeliner, shadow, and mascara some days, other days, nothing. But anyway no, Mom didn't have a problem. I think I recall her worrying about how it was all black, but she in no way objected. Would you consider yourself an adventurous person? This reeaally depends on the situation. I can't say which I lean more towards... maybe no? Have you ever snuggled with someone you weren’t dating? No. Have you ever been afraid of being underwater? No. Have you ever been drunk at work? No. What band/group have the most lyrics that represent you? I dunno. One thing you really want to learn? Digital art. What is your favorite piece of art you own? I don't own any other than my own work. The most expensive bill I paid last month was ____? N/A What’s the one thing you apologized for this month? @ the Silent Hill wiki, I wasn't understanding why a certain member was giving particular information that appeared irrelevant to me, but he got me to understand. I am extreeemely nit-picky over there, having been active there since '12, and now being a staff member, I'm even more specific. What is the largest TV screen in your house? We only have one, in the living room, but it's been the biggest. What has challenged your morals? Wondering if I was bi in middle school, frustration when I was trying to be abstinent in a serious relationship, pirating (which I still know is wrong asjfawouow), mutually being a flirt with my then-best friend's boyfriend, considering abortion at a much more open-minded angle, the justification of eating meat, my experience in life in relation to religion... Those are the ones that stand out. Who was the last female you hung out with? Mom. Have you ever taken a pregnancy test? No. Do you want to get married? Yes. Does the thought of moving out from home scare you? A bit. Would you rather live in a mansion or a small cozy home? The latter. I'm not paying for superfluous space and spending a gross amount of unnecessary time cleaning. Would you ever try being a vegetarian? I did, but stopped for a few reasons. Do you have any tattoos at the moment? Yeah and NOWHERE NEAR DONE. What about piercings? ^ Do you keep your eyebrows more thick or thin? Natural. What color is your bedroom door? White. Do your shoulder blades protrude? No, give them back to me. Have you ever been to a rave? No. How many bananas have you ever eaten in a row? Two? Do you think you’re the best thing that’s happened to someone? No. Can you make a clover shape with your tongue? No. Do you have a protective father? No. What’s the biggest misconception about you, personally? Uhhh probably that I don't try hard enough, specifically with work, adulthood, socializing, etc. when I'm sincerely doing my best. Are you disrespectful to a lot of people? No. Does your cell phone have a case on it? What color? No. What was the last song you had on repeat? "Family" by Mother Mother. Your most recent ex says he/she hates you, you say? That'd hurt like hell; he's like a bro to me and is the last close friend I have here. I don't know what I'd say. If someone you wanted before came back now, would you take them? Nope. Have you ever had to choose between two people? Sara and Girt. Jason and Juan. If you were to attend a costume party tonight, what or whom would you go as? Good question. What are your choice of toppings on a hamburger? And do you prefer gas or charcoal grilling? Cheese, mustard, ketcup, pickles, a little bit of minced onion. Idk which I prefer. Everyone hears discussions that they consider boring. What topic can put you to sleep quicker than any other? Economics. How many times did it take you to pass your drivers test? N/A What is your highest level of education? Some college. What kind of lunch box did you have as a kid? Idr. Would you rather be trapped in an elevator, or stuck in traffic? Traffic. I'm afraid of elevators. The last thing you remember dreaming about: Everyone I loved left me, so I tried to suffocate myself. Why do I only recall nightmares, ugh. The last place you went: The parlor to get a new bar for my tongue ring. The last alcoholic drink you consumed: A margarita. The last time you felt insulted/offended: I'm unsure. But I feel it was recently? The last time you kissed someone: October 17th weeps. The last time you held a baby: Months ago when Colleen needed me to hold Keegan. The last time you gave up on or quit something: Vegetarianism. The last video game you played: I finally got a new disc of Shadow of the Colossus!!!!! :'D I'm replaying it and doing both Time Attack modes to get Agro's white coat. The last television show you watched: Fullmetal Alchemist w/ Sara. Are you afraid of shots? No, I just anticipate it being unpleasant. How many times have you donated blood? Once. Would you date someone 15 years older than you? No. What’s the worst sickness you’ve ever had? An awful stomach virus. I wouldn't stop vomiting. What was the last classic novel you read? Did you enjoy it? I couldn't tell ya. Something in high school. Do you think Gatorade tastes refreshing or just gross? I hate it. What’s the scariest video game you’ve ever played? I personally think Outlast is overall the scariest game made thus far, but one I can't play because of the intense jumpscares is SCP Containment Breach. What about your life concerns you the most? Future financial position. If you were a different gender, what name would you want to have? Ummm Severin. What product or service do you find ridiculously overpriced? Certain clothing and makeup brands, like half the shit doesn't even look that great. How many people, outside of your immediate family, do you know the birthdays of by heart? At least six. Would you rather take a walk in the cold rain, or in the blistering heat? Definitely the former. If you had the chance to slip through a portal, despite being aware of any of effects and/or consequences, would you do it? No. Do you trust your gut instinct? I try to, but don't always. Which parent was more strict when you were growing up? Mom. What are some things that initially attract you to the preferred sex? CHARISMA, kindness, concern for others, a love of animals, and being a gamer oops. What is the saddest thing that has happened to you? What about the happiest? The breakup and eventual suicide attempt are definitely the saddest. The happiest, easily the last day of Holly Hill when everyone was telling me goodbye and I felt like I was ready to really live again. When was the last time someone scared you? Sara had me worried something was wrong involving me, but it wasn't. Name the strangest game you’ve ever played (video game or real game): Silent Hill 3 is so fucking weird but also one of the best horror games ever. Name something that you saw within the past week that made you smile: Probably Teddy being cute. Name something within the past week that made you frown: I don't think I have physically frowned this week. Name somebody you know who deserves a better life than they have: My mom. Name something that you hope is different by this time next year: My social anxiety has improved. Name something that you’re good at but don’t like: Um I have no clue. Name something that you’re bad at but DO like: Drawing anthro characters. Name something that you strongly believe in: Gay rights. Do you like pudding? Chocolate pudding. Do you tend to use a lot of big words? No, it's unnecessary. Just talk so people can understand you and not wonder what five words you said mean. Do you fall for guys/girls easily? NOPE. When someone copies you, are you more flattered or annoyed? Annoyed. Which is worse: Stale chips or flat soda? Stale chips. Flat soda doesn't bother me very much. What’s one show that you wish was still on the air? Deadman Wonderland. Have you ever used a port-a-potty? Omg yeah I know I have at sports practice or games as a kid. I absolutely never would again. What was the last stinky thing you smelled? Teddy's pee; he wet his diaper, and we know he has some kind of infection with how rancid it is sometimes, but we don't even bother anymore because it's recurring. What’s your favorite outdoor activity? Photographing nature.

[doodleimprovement]

Wellness: A Villian!AU Coco Fic Part 2: Tense

Psychologist Malcom Kevgil is called upon by the Riveras to help with Miguels post-mortem development. He quickly learns however that this is moreso a trauma rehabilitation, and an untangling of lies and 90 year old mysteries.

He’s a smart man, but will compassion and an analytical mind win out against Family ties?

The next part is here! A little more laying down of relationships before real plot starts sneaking in. 

This particular version of the AU has been written and developed by @im-fairly-whitty (Click here to read!)

Rating: Gen (subject to change depending) \\ Warnings: mentions of childhood truama \\ Word Count:1208 \\ Masterpost Link 

It had taken 3 months for Miguel to start opening up, to start conversing with him about innocuous things and giving Malcom a glance into the boy he was before whatever actual trauma had occurred

It took not even three days for that progress to completely regress

Malcom could not be more frustrated on a fundamental level at the fact that on Monday he had a boy finally opening up- even if it was about small things like his favorite style of guitar play or what he had for breakfast- turned right back into the shy quiet child from the start on Thursday

The appointment went on very similarly to those first three months, and Malcom requested to speak to Imelda and Héctor alone after. It took a little coaxing, but he promised it wouldn't take long. Miguel was left with his guitar (which he bought to many of the appointments) in the waiting room

“What seems to be the issue, Doctor?” Imelda asked, there was an annoyance in her tone that Malcom didn't not appreciate it.

“He has regressed. Why has he regressed?” Malcom got right to the point “I had him talking to me, conversing, he was verbal and active”

“You were asking him meaningless things!” Imelda threw her hands in the air “I'm paying you good money and you've been asking him the weather!? I want him to get better, Doctor Kevgil!”

Héctor sat there with his wife, agreeing but letting her do the talking. Malcom let out an agitated breath.

“So I am to assume you told him to stop having frivolous conversations with me?”

“Of course. I can't have you wasting his and our time like this. We’re very busy people”

There was a rather large, gnawing part of Malcom that wanted to point to his two doctorates framed on his wall (thanks to his cousin for putting those on his ofrenda) and tell her to shut up and let him work, but he was smarter than that.

There was also a part of him filing away her ignorance about his profession into a corner for later.

“.... How often does he talk at home?” He asked

The two of them took a few moments to answer. While that was enough of a confirmation for him, he wanted to hear it from them.

“... Only when spoken to” Hector answered “And not for long”

“... And when he is here, he speaks without me having to prompt him. He says hello, he asks me how I am, he talks in full sentences and even shows interest in talking further when we are finished.” Malcom spelled it out. “Is that not progress?”

The two looked at each other.

Malcom looked into his file “I will give you both a hint. The answer… is yes. Getting patients to talk to me is always the first step”

“And what, pray tell, is the second step?” Imelda asked, her sneer was almost amusing to Malcom, were it not so condescending

“Getting him to talk about what bothers him. Only Miguel knows his problems”

“We know his problems!” Hector leaned forward, gesturing with his hands “He is traumatized by his death! It was sudden and scared him and he can’t process it”

“How?”

“.... How what?”

“How has it traumatized him? In what specific ways, Señor Rivera?”

“I….” he lowered his hands, looking away as he thought

“He’s withdrawn and shy. He gets panic attacks when he’s away from Hector or myself and will not pick up his guitar” Imelda answered, looking…. Proud? Malcom was having a field day with this “That is how he is traumatized”

“No” he stressed the word “That is how it has manifested. Those are the symptoms. When I say “how” I mean: How does he feel about it? When he thinks about it what comes to mind? What associations does he make? What triggers his anxiety about it?” He explained “I cannot get to the root if you two tell him that our talking is not conductive to his recovery. Because it is”

Imelda looked about ready to explode for some reason. He quickly filed that away in his mental “Red Flag Rivera” folder for later. She let out a sigh at this.

“Fine” she grit her teeth. “I am going back out to see Miguel. Hector?”

“I will be with you in just a moment, Diosa. I wish to speak with the doctor” Hector took her hand and kissed it, and her expression softened greatly. “Take care of our boy”

“Always, Mi Vida” she muttered to him before turning and leaving, shutting the door rather harshly

“She’s paying for my hinges if she breaks them, Señor” Malcom quipped. Hector couldn’t help but chuckle before looking back at Malcom with a more serious expression

“My wife is spirited because she wants Miguel to recover”

“.... Could have fooled me, Señor. Considering I have to twist both of your arms to get you two to actually assist in his recovery” Before Hector could retort Malcom raised his hand in a “stop” motion. “I am not asking for your complete compliance or blind faith” He clarified “But every time I bring up talking deeper about his day of trauma both of you start getting rather… defensive”

“He-he’s not ready to talk about it!”

“And when he is?”

Hector clenched his jaw and seemed to contemplate something “.. Well… That is why we warned you about confidentiality, Doctor Kevgil”

Hector stood up.

“Anything you hear from Me, Imelda, or Miguel is completely confidential, yes?” Malcom stood up as well. He knew that tactic of intimidation. A simple one - towering over somebody to make them feel inferior and/or intimidated. Effective- if simplistic. Too bad Malcom was literally a student of the human mind and how it functioned or that little tactic might have actually gotten to him

“I take my job very seriously, Señor Rivera” Malcom answered. His tone held none of the heavy weight that Hector’s did, but he had his own edge to his tone.

There was a brief silence

“I will see you on Monday then?”

“At 4 o clock, as always, Doctor” Hector turned and left his office, leaving the doctor standing behind his desk. Once he was sure they had left Malcom let out a deep, tension-relieving sigh

“Penelopa?” He called out

“Si, Doctor?” His secretary responded

“Close my open enrollment”

“... Perdón, Senor?”

“I know you heard me, Penelopa. Send them to Doctor Mezza. She needs to clientele. This Rivera case is going to take more time than I previously thought.” He sat back at his desk “And please, see how soon you can do some schedule shifting to get me a day off. I’m going to need it”

“Of course, Doctor Kevgil.” she started typing away at her old computer “You really seem to be serious about this case”

“... I’m worried about the boy” he admitted, staring at the file on his desk

Something was very, very wrong here, and Malcom knew that both Imelda and Hector were aware of his inkling. There was no other reason for Hector to attempt to intimidate him.

He’d have to tread carefully, without letting it get in the way of Miguel’s recovery.

Much easier said than done.

[fivewrites]

5557 Reviews Your Fanfic #3:  Soul of a New Machine by StygianLotus

Hello, friends, I am 5557 on Ao3 and I review your fanfiction if you want me to.

Soul of a New Machine by  @stygianlotus

Summary:

Lance had been living the same cycle of events over and over since he got captured by the Galra. After seven months with Haggar, the other Paladins finally manage to save him. However, they soon realize that Lance's wounds run much deeper than they had hoped.

Rating: M

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

Tags: Psychological Torture, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Coran helps Lance, Langst, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Angst, Post-Defeat of Zarkon, Post Season 2, Flashbacks, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, poor lance

Optional info:

Is English your first language? Yes How long have you been writing for? 4 years Are you 18+? No Do you want publish / write professionally one day? Maybe

Technical Style / Formatting: Paragraphs are of a good size.

Quotes and dialogue are all correct, punctuation is used correctly.

I find parenthesis to be unnecessary in fiction, but they are still used correctly.

Could use a bit of dialogue attribution switch-ups (Lance said vs. said Lance) here and there, but that’s a very small thing.

The second chapter’s flashback doesn’t need to be entirely in italics, but it’s ok.

Pace: The pace is affected by the problem of the mixed-omniscient narrator.

The biggest core problem in the story, and one that is at the root of all others like the confusing sentence structure is: Who is our narrator and what does our narrator know?

In some paragraphs, is seems like we have an unreliable, deep-pov narrator that keeps us well inside of Lance’s head. In other paragraphs, the narrator informs us in a more omniscient way of information that Lance himself does not know. And inconsistence narrator can lead to plot and characterization problems, as well and issues with general prose flow and how the story progresses.

We need to establish solidly who the narrator is (is it a detached voice of lance, or an outside figure?) and what exactly they know. Do they know A) everything about everyone, all the time? (omniscient) B) Everything about lance and only Lance (Limited omniscient) or C) Some things about Lance, but not everything (Unreliable non-omniscient)

Establishing this will help with the confusing sentence structure and set the pace and tone of the story so the reader can understand what’s going on (even with limited information) and progress.

Dialogue: The dialogue is fairly good, and I appreciate the fact that the team care about Lance and want him to feel safe and welcome back on the team.

Once we solve the narration problem, the dialogue will fit the story that much better.

Characterization: So far, characterization isn’t too much of a problem, but with huge, personality-changing events such as capture and torture, it’s really important to research trauma and how is can affect a person. It’s up to you to decide how lance’s behaviour deals with his trauma, whether he chooses to smile through it and pretend nothing is wrong, or like in your story actually show that he has been deeply affected.

It’s not wrong for Lance’s personality to change from an extreme situation. I think it would be wrong to write him as the exact same person he was before his capture, but I also want to stress that he is not 100% a new person. There are and will always be fragments of the old person there, and they will have good days where they are able to laugh and joke and have  a good time. It’s about finding the balance of depth.

For research, I would really recommend watching the movie Room (2016) about the 5-year-old child who grew up in captivity with his mother. This movie does an amazing job of showing that even in a dire situation, they are able to be sane and smart. It also shows that they are not immune to breaking down and falling apart. Both are true, and that is what makes the story so powerful.

Flow / Prose Style:

Try to find and remove extraneous filler words like was and had. As well, look for text written in the passive voice, and try to edit it to become more active.

“The cup was picked up by Lance.” - Passive “Lance picked up the cup.” - Active

I think I understand what you’re going for in the beginning, so I’m going to make a few assumptions.

The opening fades in like a person coming into consciousness after being knocked out- blurry, unclear, unable to pin facts and details and people. This is an appropriate way to open a thriller / angst story, no problems there.

My advice for a choice like this is that as an author you need to be very careful and specific about what you make clear and what you make hazy.

Too clear, and you don’t get the desired effect.

Too hazy and your readers are confused and bored because they can’t understand enough

So when you’re doing a style like this, be very careful about who knows what, and who is being mentioned. If you turn too many names into epithets or pronouns (he or she) we very easily lose track of what the narrator is referring to.

“He remembered Allura ordering for them to attack him, remembered Hunk being the one to do it while Lance was still restrained.”

This sentences contains two “he’s” and the second one is unclear as to who it’s referring to. We could use clarity by saying “Lance remembered Allura ordering for them to attack him, remembered Hunk being the one to do it while he was still restrained.”

“How could they still act like they were best friends after everything that had happened?”

And here, it’s slightly unclear as to who the “they” is referring to. Lance and Hunk? Lance and the rest of the paladins? Hunk and the rest of the paladins? etc.

For someone who is english as first language, some of the phrasing is… odd. It’s not exactly passive voice, nor is it grammatically incorrect, but it attributes action and intention to the wrong symbol of importance.

Like PutTING the emPHAsis on the wrong sylLAble. It’s not incorrect, but it it is jarring.

““Hey, Lance?” The sudden voice jerked Lance out of his thoughts, looking up quickly like he had gotten used to doing.”

The second part of the sentence says that it’s the voice, not lance, that looked up quickly.

“Keith’s face made Lance take an involuntary step back, watching him cautiously.”

This is also odd phrasing that leads to odd mental image. It’s like Keith is pressing Lance around physically… with his face. Keith’s face doesn’t really make anyone do anything unless he’s physically using it. The way it’s described currently gives keith’s face, and not keith himself the agency and importance.

At the very end of the sentence, it’s unclear whether it’s Keith’s face or Lance that is doing the watching cautiously.

I get the idea of the scene, but the phrases used to describe the action are odd. So when the common thread of concern is confusing sentence structure, it’s often a good time to go back to the basics and start from the bottom. try to rewrite sentences three times and pick the best one you like. this can also help stimulate new ideas and new ways of phrasing.

Parenthesis tend to be aside thoughts. Find a way to integrate them into their own sentence or paragraph. Also, things said in parenthesis tend to come across as comedic, so it helps the tone of the serious story to try to minimize them.

The same goes for but / although additions to sentences. Decide if they deserve their own new sentence or paragraph or if that information really needs to be told to the reader at all.

Beware when using epithets. “The blue paladin” sounds cold and unsympathetic. If you want readers to attach themselves, use names.

Story:

There’s a lack of impact in the initial chapter because we are told snippets of Lance’s experiences, but rather than holding it as a mystery, or exploring it in more depth, these things come across like an informative list rather than a story.

Each event and experience that lance has faced, while impactful on its own, loses impact when strung together with the other pieces that come across as list-like.

There are two options of exploring lance’s experiences, and this will come down to how you choose to narrate the story, and it’s this: Do you want Lance to be the POV character or not?

If you make lance the poc character, you can explore all of his thoughts and memories of the events of his capture. It would be an internal tale, and explore him learning to communicate with his team once again.

Or, you could make Keith the POV character, and write more of a “medical mystery / crime procedural” type story, where the team slowly learns of the events that happened to Lance and how deep they go. (this does not have to be a klance fic or romantic at all if you choose to make keith the POV. He’s just the narrator who cares about his friend)

The flaws in the first couple of chapters are a little counterintuitive. The story seems a bit rushed, and one would assume that it’s under explained. I think the opposite is true. It’s over explained, trying to catch us up as quickly as possible to everything that has happened to Lance.

What would make the story more interesting would be to let each event breathe a bit, and explore more of Lance’s sensory reactions and his dialogue with his team than simply stating what happened to him and what went wrong. Show us Lance’s flightiness and mistrust instead of telling us about his torture.

The first chapter could use a bit more environmental description. Where do they go in the lions? How far? When?

The second chapter where Keith is rescuing Lance is fairly straightforward a good, we just need to decide on a main narrator and stick to them.

“Keith wished that he knew how to help, really – it was frustrating to all of them. They wanted to be able to help, but Lance wouldn’t let them in. He still kept everything inside, as he usually did, they’d learned. Lance was the type to bottle up his emotions because he was worried they’d hold someone back.”

This would be a great opportunity to show us Lance’s mistrust instead of telling us. What are his actions? His reactions? What does he do, specifically?

“Coran wished that he could see what was going on inside of Lance’s head so that he could help him.”

This comes across as odd and weak because we as readers can see inside of lance’s head. We were told lots of things by the story, so there’s no surprise or mystery. We feel smarter than Coran, rather than on his level.

The story really starts to take shape in the third chapter, and I really like that Coran is both a main part of the story and well-characterized. But the POV / narration problems are of prime concern. Once we figure these out, it will start to flow much more smoothly and be much more engaging to read!

[bluebookbadger-blog]

The Price of a Life - Chapter 11

Title: The Price of a Life Fandom (s): Fullmetal Alchemist/Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood Summary: I always thought waking up in another world would be a lot more…interesting. At least slightly exciting and terrifying, but it really wasn’t. It was more of a sudden and underwhelming event, that landed me in the company of fiction and its ignorance to modern physics. I thought it was a dream. Boy was I wrong. Characters: SI/OC, Maes Hughes, Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, etc. Rating: PG-13

A/N: I do not own Cognac, or at least I hold no ownership of the title or production. 

Warning: This chapter will contain depressive themes and mentions of suicide

I swallowed the lump of fear in my throat; an appropriate response to being confronted by the leader of a nation, who also happened to be the physical incarnation of Wrath. Maybe being shot in telephone booth wasn't off my list of accidental death's that might lead to my untimely demise.

The surprised and nervous physical therapist quickly ducked out of the room, briefly nodding respectfully to the Fuhrer. Bradley was flanked by two guards - they were familiar, perhaps the ones who had been guarding his office the day I first met him.

"Would you please give me a moment with Miss. Irish?" Bradley said in a tone that was entirely nonnegotiable. The reluctant soldiers closed the door behind the Fuhrer, who remained quiet for a moment as if making sure no one was eavesdropping.

I could just imagine Maria and Denny hiding behind a corner watch the room with thoughts of my second official meeting with Amestris' leader running through their heads. The voice of reason and Wrath broke my own thoughts.

"I'd rather have had this conversation in my office, but it seems Mustang wants to keep you as close to him as possible." His voice sounded so inviting and contrary to his grim face.

"I'd rather be in a ditch somewhere with a bottle of Cognac, and maybe a few slices of chocolate cake," I said with a sigh, laying down for a moment.

"That can be arranged," Bradley said, with little humor. I probably should have been amazed that one particular brand of lacohol existed in this universe, but I was more worried about the sincerity of the man's tone. I bolted upright, resisting the urge to glare at him as he gave a small chuckle. One does not simply glare at Wrath.

"So, to what do I owe the honor, sir?" I asked, my voice faltering slightly. I didn't know if I should have addressed him 'Wrath' or 'Fuhrer' or 'Bradley'. The homunculus pulled up a chair next to my bed and sat with his hands clasped under his chin. His eye patch was still on, but I could feel the 'Ultimate' eye searching for something in my frightened features.

"No need to be so formal, Mac," I couldn't hold back a glare at the nickname.

"Don't call me Mac," I growled, enunciating for emphasis before quickly realizing who I was speaking with, "Please," The Fuhrer smiled and gave a goodhearted laugh. Well, as goodhearted as sin could be.

"I admit Irish, you are quite interesting to us," I lowered my eyes to look at my hands. I actually really had to go to the bathroom, and using the bedpan in front of Wrath was not something I wanted to do today. "Even Envy could not get you to budge, and you don't seem to be that afraid of us," I swallowed and clasped my hands together in a weak prayer. Of course I was afraid of them - they were powerful beings of supernatural origin that were difficult to kill, who wouldn't be scared of that? "At least not that you show," He followed up.

"Well, you homunculi are just people, granted artificial in nature - except you - and I see no reason to fear a fellow human," I tried to remember this saying someone said to me about ones enemies and friends and the worst they could do, but it not being forthcoming, I decided not to say anything else.

"You have a very loose definition of human," Wrath remarked, no longer interested in my ethics, "Now, tell me Miss. Irish, what did you give Truth in exchange for such specific knowledge about us 'humans'?"

Hearing the question from Envy was one thing - annoying, frustrating, but easy to lie to - but hearing it from Wrath was more demanding and less avoidable. I opened my mouth to make a snide remark, then shut it for a moment before speaking.

"I was about to ask why I should tell you, but between myself, Hughes, and other miscellaneous strangers in this place, I realized I have a very good reason t-to tell you," I started to stutter, my anxiety going through the roof. I pulled out some hair and dropped the strands off the side of my bed. "Now the only problem is figuring out how. Tell me honestly, Wrath," I paused for a split second to make sure he was aware of the serious tone I was attempting to use, "Would you believe me if I told you the truth?"

He stroked his mustache in a condescending manner for a moment prior to speaking.

"Yes, and I would know if you were telling it too," I still didn't know how to answer and tell the truth - say Fullmetal Alchemist? That would land the Elrics in hot water and mix up the story. Say anime? That'd only confuse the bastard and it would be too vague to count as 'the truth' in my book. An idea struck me, the only fault being the slim chance of someone sharing the name.

"Hiromu Arakawa," I said, watching Wrath closely for any sign of distrust, "She lives on an island to the west of Xing, she told me some of these things," Wrath didn't seem to be wary of the proposition, but he didn't seem to overjoyed with the information either.

"What did she tell you?" He only said this once, his one eye burning a hole through me as I took my dear time to respond.

"Only about the sacrifices and the Promised Day, the rest was Truth's doing," I said, holding my hands tight to prevent any farther hair pulling.

"You still haven't told me what you traded for that information," Wrath noted, apparently satisfied with my story about Hiromu Arakawa. "What would that be?"

"I..." I thought for a moment, about what Truth had told me. "My soul," Wrath actually seemed a little taken aback, probably asking himself if I was allowed to do such a thing in alchemical terms.

"How?" I shrugged.

"I dunno, I just never want to see the Gate again," Wrath shot me a disapproving glare of suspicion. "Okay, maybe I want to ask some more questions, but I don't even know how I got to the Gate, let alone how to get back-" I stopped myself, realizing what I had just said.

"Then how did you ever see the Truth?" Wrath questioned, I shrinking away slightly at his accusatory tone.

"I don't know," He stared at me, I stared at him. My eyes were watering by the time he looked away, almost looking disappointed.

"Well, since you are telling the truth there's no reason to pursue that train of thought any longer," Wrath said, sitting back in his chair a little and glancing at the window for a moment. "So, what exactly do you know about the us, Promised Day, and the sacrifices?"

"Some general stuff," I said, thinking about just how much I knew about the homunculi. "I know about all seven of you, and most of how you came to be - though, I only know that you were the last, chronologically speaking. All but you have surprising powers of regeneration, and you each have a special power or whatnot - Envy's shape shifting, your eye, Lust's spears," I subconsciously rubbed my side, feeling a slight sting of pain from the stitches.

"You were all created by Father, the first homunculus made from the blood Hohenheim who was a slave in Xerxes. Then Father destroyed Xerxes and gained a humanoid form and the two parted ways. As for the Promised Day Father will use Amestris, as one huge transmutation circle as carved underground by Sloth, to make a giant philosopher's stone to become all powerful, take over the world, et cetera. " I tried my best to recall any other information Wrath would like to know, but my knowledge of future events was best left behind a facade of present knowledge.

"I'm a little more iffy on the sacrifices...I know Fullmetal is one, and their teacher that you tried to recruit in Dublith," I thought for a moment, relatively lacking in knowledge of sacrifices. "Maybe the Flame Colonel too, all I know is that they're powerful alchemists. I also know they are key to the Promised Day, and without them the entire plot is in jeopardy," I finished, hoping that fulfilled all of the Fuhrer's questions.

"So, you know quite a lot, little lady," This time I couldn't restrain the glare.

"I am not that little," I said with a grumpy sigh, crossing my arms over my chest. Wrath merely snorted in amusement, his one visible eye smiling. Though confused as to the expression of smiling eyes, I held my glare.

"It seems all the interesting ones have an inferiority complex," He murmured almost inaudibly before his one clear blue eye snapped open. I could almost feel the restrained anger coming off the man in waves. It made sense that he was angry, I would be too if a total stranger had intimate knowledge of my family. "Now, what you do with that knowledge will determine how we deal with you,"

"I don't plan on parading around Amestris with a megaphone and fliers screaming about the impending apocalypse, if that's what you're thinking," I managed to nervously crack a smile at the image of myself being so ridiculous. "I'll keep to myself, keep any sacrifices from dying if I must, unless one of you breaks you end of the deal and bring harm to a certain someone."

This seemed to surprise Bradley. The homunculus furrowed his brow at my words.

"You have no intention of leaving the country?" He asked, and I was surprised to sense a shred of genuine curiosity in the deep voice. I shrugged, having never thought about getting myself to safety before the Promised Day.

"If the world will be conquered by Father anyways, what the point of prolonging death?" I asked, not exactly addressing Wrath. "I want to be there for the end of the world. Maybe snap a few photos for the grand kids, have a drink, watch death and carnage surround me in my last moments," I had meant to make the sentence sound more sarcastic, but I honestly believed in what I said. If the world was going to end for human life, I damn sure wasn't going to miss out on the opening ceremony.

"And, since you will not leave the country, you plan on keeping all of this information to yourself?" I rolled my eyes a little, slowly adjusting to the immense, hateful presence of Wrath.

"Uh, duh, the last thing I'll do is incite mass hysteria and panic. Besides, even if I did, who'd believe the strange immigrant girl?" Wrath's gaze became less curious and more skeptical at those words, to my surprise.

"Speaking of which, you aren't from Drachma, Miss. Irish," I physically felt my stomach do a somersault. The story and image I had been crafting for myself was easily seen through by Wrath, which, though unsurprising, was nerve wracking.

"No," I admitted, my voice trailing off and becoming quite soft.

"Where are you from then?" Reverting back to grade school, I stated the honest answer.

"356 Lockwood Drive, Littleton, Connecticut," I automatically blurted, vaguely aware that the homunculus would have no clue where that was even if I had a giant map with a bright flashing sign pointing right at it. Understandably, he stared at me ludicrously.

"Which is where?" I felt my heart pounding in my chest as if I were standing too close to a pair of loud speakers. Where? Another universe of course!

"Another continent, in the West. We are separated by ocean, and rarely interact with our nearest neighbor, which happens to be a few isolated Drachman islands," Well, thinking about Alaska, and comparing Drachma to Russia, that made some sense.

"Then how and why did you come to Amestris?" I honestly had no answer for that. I didn't want to come to Amestris, at least not consciously. And at my current state I wished more than anything I hadn't come to Amestris.

"I don't know," I said flatly, deciding that honesty was the best policy.

"Irish," Bradley addressed in a demanding tone. "May I remind you that I know if you are lying-"

"I don't have a single damn clue, okay?" I half shouted at the man, barely able to keep my tone inaudible to anyone outside. I took a few deep breathes, clenching and releasing my fists. "I don't know how I got here, and I most certainly don't know why I of all people ended up here,"

The Fuhrer was silent for a few moments, his stoic features not revealing any emotion. He did not shake with rage or show any wrath he was feeling towards my outburst. For the first time since he had sat down at my bedside, I noticed the sword at his waist. I also had no doubt in his abilities with that sword, nor was his ability to cover up my death. If he was going to kill me, I had no clue it was coming.

"Very well," Wrath said amicably, his voice calm and collected. I breathed an internal sigh of relief at his words. If he thought I was lying, there was no way for me to give any proof of my exact origins."Now, how do you suppose we clean up this mess you've made,"

I blinked a few times, trying to understand if I had heard him correctly. Interrogation to problem solving was a pretty bumpy transition, and it didn't feel like Wrath was finished asking me questions about my knowledge or future plans.

"What?" I asked, confused at to what specific part of the whole Hughes Problem they needed my help with.

"Colonel Mustang thinks you may have killed Hughes, which creates a problem for us. If you get arrested - or killed - then your... supposed friend may bring harm to the sacrifices, as you put it. So you either have to shift his attention away from yourself, or tell us who your contact is so we can make sure there are no...mistakes,"

Ah, Fuhrer, did you not know of my wonderful foreknowledge? No, no you did not.

"Pin it on 2nd Lieutenant Maria Ross," Wrath actually seemed interested in the idea. "Have some 'witness' aka anyone you can pull some strings with say they saw her leaving the crime scene. It'd make sense, since I've already convinced them the assailant was female, and to be honest, Envy was Ross when he left the park."

"What if she has an alibi?" Wrath didn't look opposed to the idea, and had resumed looking like my Godfather Antonio in a good mood.

"I know she was off duty with her parents, but close family and friends don't count as someone who can confirm an alibi," I remembered her interrogation pretty well from the series, everything from her lunchtime interruption to her jailing was clear, with only a few foggy details regarding who, where, and when. "She used a round at the Fifth Laboratory incident to shoot Barry the Chopper, which means no one will find it under all that rubble, and with the round in Hughes' chest at the bottom of the river, she won't have a shred of hope in the interrogation office."

I knew Barry was...somewhere under Falman's watch under Mustang's order, which only Mustang needed to know. And if all went well, she'd be in the desert and believed dead. Hopefully. I had a nagging fear that I would influence something and get the woman killed, but I had little time to dwell on those thoughts after the words left my lips.

"You seem quite confident in this plan, Irish. Should I know why?" Wrath said after nodding to all of the evidence I presented.

"Because I have no plan to be burned alive in an alleyway?" I said with a glimmer of sarcasm. Wrath laughed, like the kind of laugh he would use with his wife or someone like that.

"I'll take your word for it then," Wrath said, still smiling. I took that as a good sign. "Now I suggest you get dressed, the service will be in an hour or so, I'll send someone to pick you up soon,"

I was clearly confused, but the Fuhrer ignored my open mouth and raised finger of inquiry and walked to the door. One of the soldiers opened it for him, while the other entered the room after he left to place a black bag as well as a pair of crutches at the end of my bed.

After that flurry of commotion, I was left to myself.

"What the hell was that all about?" I said aloud, listening for any explanation on the other side of the door. Hearing none, I decided to see what the bag held. It was a small bag, like a lean and convenient version of a duffle bag without the gym socks smell.

Inside, there was a simple black dress with a matching shawl and a pair of black pump heels, which explained the earlier rush. The funeral was tonight. I drew in a slow breath before laying out the clothes on the bed. It was final. I had convinced the world that Maes Hughes was dead, and the only proof I had of the contrary were two ticket stubs. Deciding to burn them as soon as I could, I slipped them into the card beneath my pillow.

I took the opportunity to limp my way to the bathroom, using the wall for balance. After using the bathroom, I decided it best to change before whoever Wrath was sending came to pick me up.

Getting out of the hospital clothes and into the dress was difficult, my near inability to maneuver the right side of my lower body not helping. I finally managed to wriggle into the tight fitting dress, the chest a little too exposed for my liking and the dress itself too long.

The shoes, for once, were not quite as challenging as the dress. Though the heels would leave me aching, and shoeing my right foot difficult with my lack of flexibility, they were comfortable as far as dress shoes went.

As I dressed, I thought over my conversation with Wrath. Mustang was convinced I had killed Hughes. Though I could see some suspicion, arising from my 'luck' of surviving several murderers since he met me, I couldn't see how he could believe that I would kill Maes. I knew Mustang and I had seen little of each other and had not interacted extensively, but surely Hughes had gushed about me over the phone to the Flame Colonel a few times.

Why would Mustang think I would kill someone who cared so much about me? What evidence did he have to incriminate me, besides being the sole witness?

A knock at the door interrupted my worrisome thoughts. One of the guards that had escorted the Fuhrer entered, his gloved hands folded behind himself. Propping myself up on the crutches and adjusting the shall around my shoulders, I followed him as he led the way through the hospital to the front door.

I had never used the front door, only the emergency exit when visiting the hospital, so the imposing glass double doors where quite a surprise. As for the crutches, and getting down the seemingly endless stairs to the waiting vehicle, it was quite uncomfortable. Though made from metal, it lacked a rubbery handle or stopper at the end, resulting in a slippery and, by modern standards, unsafe trek.

The attending officer had to walk in front of me to prevent me from falling flat on my face. The combination of heels and the slippery polished steps was not helping my lack of balance and incredible pain as we approached a large black vehicle that could have been considered a limousine. The officer opened the door for me, and I, stooping so as to not injure my head farther, entered the limo.

I could do nothing to hide the surprise on my face at the other riders. The Armstrong squad sat at the front of the vehicle, Maria to the Major's left while Denny was on his right. Two guards on either side of the Fuhrer, filling up the rest of the length of the limo. At the back seat, a woman head of blonde hair with hard brown eyes would be all that separated myself from Colonel Mustang.

I stiffly maneuvered the crutches and myself into the last empty seat beside the Lieutenant, painfully aware of the somber atmosphere. Even Bradley's earlier show of dark humor and questioning seemed to be quelled by the oppressive silence. The guard shut the door behind me, and he sound of another creaking shut followed and the limo began to move forward.

And thus, the most awkward car ride of my young life ensured.

The first few moments of the ride were spent in tense silence. I being wholly aware of Mustang's opinions of myself and he keeping his own thoughts to himself as the others in the vehicle were forced to endure the invisible tension that had arisen. The oppressive silence was going to kill me, but I didn't know what to say. We were on our way to a funeral for a living man, the most powerful man in the country who was also an artificial human was mere feet away, and the woman who I had a hand in framing for a death was at the other end of the limo.

What was there to talk about?

"Will there be a wake?" I asked quietly, my eyes trained on the floor. I wasn't asking anyone in particular, but I wasn't really looking for an answer either. Of course there wouldn't be a wake, what body was there to mourn over?

"No," Mustang answered before anyone else could. I unintentionally clenched my teeth, a sudden anxiety overcoming me. His answer wasn't cruel or cold, but it wasn't entirely polite either.

"Oh," I muttered, not looking up from my feet. I felt the urge to follow up and ask why, but thought it wouldn't fit the still dominant funereal atmosphere. "Did you find her?" I blurted out, immediately feeling apprehension rising in my chest at the question.

Everyone seemed to hold their breath, and Mustang physically tensed. I could have sworn Bradley was staring at me with his all seeing eye, and that unnerved me more than anything. I didn't know why I asked, it simply was a question I felt any normal person would be curious about if their friend/superior was killed. I held the shawl tightly and adjusted it once more, the slippery fabric slipping from my shoulders.

"No," Riza responded, her eyes trained on the opposite wall, her face stoic. I think Mustang my have murmured something, but I froze up. I wanted to be invisible, I didn't want to be in that limo or anywhere near any of these people. I wanted to be safe, at the apartment, playing with Elicia while Gracia made supper. I wanted Hughes to walk in jut before we started eating and be dramatic about it. I hated this change in the atmosphere, as if the entire universe was silently judging my existence (which was true, if one considered Truth the universe).

The most awkward car ride of my life continued to be awkward, and somewhat depressive. Thankfully, it only lasted a few minutes before the limo rolled to a stop. As soon as the door opened, I limped out of the stressful deathtrap as fast as my one working leg and pair of crutches could carry me.

There was a small gathering of people on the other side of the limo, facing something I could not see. On my side of the limo, simple headstones would outnumber the living people present. Most were soldiers, but I caught a glimpse of some older men and women who vaguely reminded me of Hughes. It was oppressively quiet as I joined the crowd, seeking out Elicia and her mother.

I found them at the front of the group, the girl wearing a dress that reminded me of my private grade school's black and white uniform. Gracia wore a simple black skirt and dress jacket, occasionally pulling a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe her eyes. Elicia was trembling as she held her mother's hand, and her worried expression did not change when I approached.

"Big sister Mac," She said, wrapping a chubby fist partway around the crutch nearest to her, "Do you know where daddy is?" I looked down and furrowed my brow, but before I could respond, Gracia interjected.

"Hush, Elicia, the Fuhrer will be speaking soon," The little girl stuck out her lip and narrowed her eyes as she looked down, whimpering quietly as she squeezed the crutch even tighter. I took a moment to observe the freshly dug grave, and the tombstone above it that bore a living man's name.

The somber murmurs of the crowd dispersed as a black casket carried by six soldiers parted them like Moses with the Red Sea. The pallbearers set the empty casket down with ease, though there was no disrespect in doing so. Even without the body, those gathered clearly held some reverence for the hollow box before them. Bradley stepped forward, and placed a hand on the head of the casket, facing the hat that sat atop the flag of Amestris.

"Brigadier General Maes Hughes was one of my most loyal, and trusted officers, and one I considered my friend," I felt some animosity towards Wrath at those words, but merely dipped my head to avoid showing any disrespect.

"His presence in a room alone could put a smile on anyone's face, and he truly and deeply loved his friends and family. Today we honor that life, and his dedication to the State as well as to those close to him. Hughes was an excellent soldier, his service in Ishval unparalleled by his peers, and his work in the Investigative Division of Central has made the sector safer than it has been in years.

"Though a devoted soldier, Maes was an even more devoted father, often using private work lines to share his love of his daughter and wife with colleagues. Though I do not condone the use of private lines for such, and the calls often long and, as some have said, borderline annoying, I find this devotion inspirational. As a father myself, I looked to Maes' example, as we should all.

"Never shall there be any man so devoted to his work and family nor any man more deserving of his title. Today, we have lost a comrade, a friend, a husband and son, but through this loss I hope you all gain the inspiration to be as loving and as caring as Maes Hughes was." That was it. All of it. The hat was removed from the coffin, and the burial began. That was the only eulogy given, after that, the pallbearers lifted the casket once more and gently maneuvered it into the ditch.

The pallbearers, finished with their work, took up their rifles and performed a 21 gun salute to the fallen officer. I couldn't begin to wonder where the salute originated without the influence of theology or at least astronomical importance. Four of the six pallbearers got to work shoveling dirt on top of the coffin, the sad plops of earth pounding at the empty box.

I think I was more appalled than upset. There was no service, no incense, no family eulogy. We did not approach the coffin with flowers in hand to place atop it, we did not sprinkle dust on the top of the casket. For me, this was quite a strange burial. Almost curt and unceremonious. The world was basically saying,

"Yeah, he had a good life, oh well." And then it took off. Now, I knew from the thousands of graves around me a soldier's death wasn't uncommon; but that did not mean it shouldn't have been special. I knew that Hughes was one man in the huge complex web of the world. I knew he wasn't even in the coffin. But the 'service' still unnerved me, as if there was some big hurry to bury the issue of his death with the casket. I was snapped from my grumblings by a tearful whimper.

"But mommy, daddy's not in there!" Elicia whispered, though it came out much louder than so. Tears welled in her eyes, and rolled down her cheeks one by one. "Mommy, where is daddy?" The girl asked again, this time frantic and upset. Mrs. Hughes knelt to the girl's level and held her close, tears blossoming at the corners of the woman's eyes.

"He's gone, sweetie, he's there." Elicia did not accept that answer.

"No! Daddy's not there! Where is he? Daddy has important work to do, he needs to go to work! Where is he? Where's my daddy!" The whimpers became full blown cries of panic as Elicia struggled against her mother's hold.

Armstrong placed a gloved hand to his face, but it did little to hide the fresh tears. The Fuhrer tensely shook, as if too moved by Elicia's cries. I knew better. He was pissed with her for being so loud. I guess I could understand, I was upset with how brusquely the service was carried out.

"Elicia," I said as Gracia stood, a handkerchief not doing much to hid her muffled sobs and streaming tears. The girl looked up at me, her face the same as her mother's.

"Do you know where daddy is, big sister Mac?" I sighed, a heavy weight on my chest. I couldn't tell her. I couldn't tell anyone. I swallowed and managed to crouch to her level, sitting on the grass. My right leg ached in protest as I drew it closer to myself, but I held my arms out to Elicia. She immediately hugged me, seeking any form of comfort. "Where's daddy?" I looked up, the blue sky empty in the exception of a single cloud.

"He's...somewhere warm, and sunny, like the forest. Have you ever seen a forest?" Her whimpering had slowed, and a new light shown in her eyes as I answered her question.

"No, s'it like, like the countryside?" She said with a sniffle, looking up at me with an inquiring gaze. I gave a soft smile in return.

"Yes, but trees everywhere, taller than buildings," Elicia cracked a small smile, "And that's where your daddy is. He's happy, he's safe and sound. he's watching you and your mother and making sure you stay safe and sound too." The girl hugged me tighter before pulling back once more. Gracia had turned her attention to me.

"Can I go visit him?" She asked quietly, looking to her mother with a smile too bright and too happy to understand the allusion I was making. I gave a small huff of amusement.

"No, not for a long time," Elicia looked crestfallen once more.

"Oh," I ruffled her hair, shhing her quietly as she whimpered once more.

"You'll see him again though, when you're a lot older, and you're mom will probably be there too, and you'll all be together again," Elicia rested her head on my shoulder.

"When I'm older - when I'm 10 a-a big girl, then can I go visit daddy?" I shook my head, noticing the crowd was now dispersing.

"No, when you're a lot older than 10, darling," Elicia gave a huff of frustration.

"I wanna grow up real fast!" She declared, standing up and looking to Gracia. I sighed and slowly got to my own feet, a difficult task with my injuries.

"Whatever you say kiddo," I looked at Gracia, who's eyes were still leaking a few stray tears. "How are you doing?" Elicia ran up to another woman, her brown hair matching Gracia's own. They were probably related in the way the woman endearingly held Elicia up, answering the girl's words with 'ohs' and 'ahs'.

"As well as I can be," She responded truthfully, stealing a glance at the woman who nodded and smiled as Elicia retold my story of the forest her dad was waiting in. "Thank you, for calming her down," I nodded, looking at me feet. I slipped out of the heels, the lack of my orthodics making the shoes painful beyond normal circumstances. "She'll learn the truth eventually you know,"

I looked to Gracia, concern causing my brown to wrinkle in thought.

"That was the truth, at least how I imagine it," I said, looking back at the sky. The single cloud had thinned, but it had swirled into veil of white and blue-grey variants. "Heaven, I mean. I don't know about you, but the idea of an afterlife is a comforting one." She nodded, and looked back to Gracia, who was receiving a pinch on her cheeks from the woman who was nearly as enthused as Maes would be over her adorableness.

"I'm not religious, but I do suppose that idea is comforting for those who are," It was my turn to nod, but Gracia quickly changed the subject. "Are you up for the walk home? I can always call a driver if you aren't,"

"No, I can make it. I'm supposed to be strengthening myself anyways," I said, never taking my eyes from the little girl who was now picking a few white dandelions and blowing the seeds into the air. Gracia walked up to the woman, and I followed in suit.

"Camilla, this is Irish, the Drachman girl I told you about," Camilla nodded in my direction, no longer appearing amicable as she had with Elicia. "Irish, this is my sister, Camilla, she's been staying to help around the house since..." Gracia trailed off, tears sprouting at the corners of her eyes.

"It's nice to finally meet the infamous Irish Mac," I cringed a bit as she said the abridged version of my surname, feeling in some possessive way that only Maes should have the privilege to say it. She held out her hand, the other clutching a clipboard. Camilla was dressed quite similar to her sister, a pair of glasses the only deviant.

"Pleasure to meet you, Camilla," I said timidly as I shook her hand, her handshake firm and business-like. "But please, just call me Irish," The woman gave a small nod.

"Will do. Elicia," She beckoned, the small child immediately abandoning her dandelions to come running to her aunt. "We're leaving, do you want some quiche for supper tonight?" I looked to Gracia, her face vacant and her eyes looking at something far away.

"Yes please Auntie Cam!"

The walk was a lot longer than anticipated, but even with me lagging behind we made it back to the apartment complex by sunset. I was once more confronted by m mortal enemy, stairs. I made it to the room with minimal grumbling about escalators and elevators.

"Okay, Elicia, straighten up your dress. Gracia, just take a few moments to yourself, the guests won't be here for another hour or so. Irish," I blinked back and forth between Camilla and her sister, intimidated by the commanding tone the older woman used. "Could you give me hand making the quiche? We won't have to make much, since the guests will be bringing most of the food, but it'd be polite to have something here." I nodded numbly, limping in the direction of the kitchen.

"Just gonna warn you, I managed to burn Elicia's cake and my hands in a matter of a few minutes." Camilla shook her head, already taking out ingredients from the cupboards. I stole a glance at the living room, where Gracia sat quietly on the couch. She wasn't crying, but she wasn't happy either. Elicia had ducked into the bathroom to fix up her dress, despite there being little to fix up.

Camilla laid the ingredients out on the counter, but before we could get started we both noticed the little girl peering around the corner.

"Elicia," I said, the child stepping out and sheepishly looking at her feet.

"Can big sister Mac play with me Auntie Cam?" The woman looked at me, running a hand through her thinning brown locks.

"Very well, go on now, don't hide out in that room for too long," She said as I was dismissed, Elicia excitedly latching onto my crutch as I shuffled out of the kitchen.

"Okay, you gotta let go," I finally said with a laugh, having to drag the child along too difficult. The girl let go and quickly ran to her room, arms out spread and giggling. I looked back at Gracia with concern, she having no reaction to her daughter's behavior. That empty look on her face was all I could take away from her furrowed brow and sorrow glazed eyes.

Elicia and I played for a little less than an hour, the child beckoned by her aunt as guests began to arrive. Soon the apartment was filled with the smell of fruitcake and other baked goods, the sympathy gifts filling the den and spilling over into the dining room as more and more people arrived. I did my best to stick to the background, not wanting to draw too much attention to myself. I still felt guilty about lying to all of them, their occasional tears and bittersweet laughs making something inside me feel crushed.

I retired to my room before Elicia was escorted to the tub by Camilla, the crowd growing too large for my comfort. My room was as I left it, the bed neatly made and an outfit hung on the back of the closet door for the next day. I sighed and sat down on my bed, the dark room a calming haven in comparison to the bustling den and dining room.

Feeling helpless, I laid back and stared at the ceiling. It was white, like the walls. Closing my eyes I thought about Truth and the void it lived in. Did it ever feel this helplessness? The helplessness of knowing so much that could help so many people but not having the means to share it? Perhaps Truth didn't feel empathy and didn't have that problem. I opened my eyes, not really looking at the ceiling anymore.

An old habit came back quickly, and I prayed. I won't bore you with the Hail Marys and Our Fathers or Guardian Angels and Creeds, but I prayed nonetheless. I had never felt so alone and frightened and unimportant before, and the old habit comforted me. In my time in that world I had lost track of days, and Sundays were observed quietly from the back of the Main Street Grocery Store. I wanted to pray more, but in all the turmoil and business, I forgot to make time for doing so, and to be honest, I hadn't really cared.

Truth was a god for this world, how would praying to another help me? Still, it felt natural to do so, even alone in the darkness of my room it was comforting. I finished with my prayers and looked to the window, wondering if the homunculi were watching me. They probably were, but what was it to them who I prayed to? With a sigh I instinctively reached for my scapular, only to recall I hadn't retrieved it from wherever it was being held. A new weight fell on my chest and I rolled to my left side, unable to stand the pain of my right.

I dozed off at some point, waking to bright sunlight streaming through the window and a quiet apartment. Mostly quiet. Down the hall I could hear someone weeping bitterly, their agonized sobs echoing softly within the apartment. I sat up, about to investigate the cries when I realized I wasn't alone in the room. Camilla was sleeping on the spare bed, oblivious to the crying.

Still dressed in the funeral dress, and the high heels traded for bare feet, I used my crutches to quietly exit the room. The sobs were coming from Gracia's room, and before I could head towards the door to see if I could over condolences, Elicia opened her own bedroom door. She seemed to be in a panic, looking down both ends of the hall and ignoring me as she raced to her mother's bedroom.

"Daddy?" She asked quizzically as she flung open the door with abandon, it meeting the wall with a loud thwack. The child's hopeful and worried expression morphed into one of disappointment and sorrow. The crying had stopped.

"Shh, Elicia," Gracia said from within the bedroom. "You'll wake Auntie Cam and Irish," The little girl entered the room, leaving the door ajar. I peered inside, and watched Elicia clamber onto the bed and crawl into her mother's arms. Gracia's face was red and tear stained as she rocked the now tearful child back and forth. "Shh, it's okay, I'm okay," Elicia let loose a choked sob.

"But is daddy okay?" Gracia looked down and buried her face in Elicia's shoulder, and they both cried quietly. I felt my hands making fists, though not sure as to why. I wasn't angry with the homunculi - well, not for 'killing' Hughes, but I was angry about something. With a mental huff I hobbled back to my room, sure not to make too much noise as I entered.

I saw my bag sitting at the foot of my bed, and an idea formed in my mind. Sure not to wake Camilla, I carefully began to pack the bag with clothes - dresses, skirts, button-ups and riding pants made their way into the bag one by one. I suddenly stopped my hurry, realizing what I was planning to do. I had no cash, no where to go, and no plan for the future. I had accomplished my goal, and all I had to do now was wait out and hope the Promised Day passed according to the plot.

I stood, Camilla now beginning to stir from her deep slumber as I dressed. Still unable to move my right leg efficiently, I took to wearing one of the skirts on the top of my bag and the white button-up beneath. Camilla gave a loud yawn and rolled over, startling me as I buttoned the dress shirt. I had been quite jumpy since we had gotten to the apartment, it was as if I were expecting something dreadful to happen.

By the time I finished a glass of milk Gracia and Elicia, with Camilla lagging behind were getting breakfast. It was a cold breakfast, some fruit and bread. The heavy weight in my chest returned, recalling that Gracia usually made a hot breakfast with eggs and bacon. Elicia didn't seem to mind, messily munching on an apple while her mother poured three glasses of milk. No one said a word.

"Do you mind if I go to work today? Just to see if I can help out with anything," I finally said, breaking the silence. Gracia looked up from her apple, but she wasn't looking at me.

"If you're feeling up to it, Irish," She said, turning to Camilla for reassurance before she continued, "I wouldn't want you to stress yourself out or strain yourself," I managed to smile.

"I'm fine, the doc said I'll be on my feet by the end of the week," I replied, finishing another glass of milk before leaving the apartment with a hurried, "Bye!"

Even with the absence of the high heels, me feet were killing me. I had been bear foot for almost 24 hours, and my feet were making it known they were displeased. I hoped I'd get my things back before I left.

I had made up my mind on my way to the Store. If Hughes was gone, I had no reason to stay with the family unless Elicia was desperate for attention. Mustang already suspected me, and his first move would be to remove me from the lives of people he cared about. I wasn't quite sure where that would be, but I had a feeling it wouldn't be nearly as nice than if I felt like I had some control and picked out an apartment on my own.

These confirmations ceased when I saw the sign on the front door of the Store.

"Closed".

The Store had never closed for an entire day, not in the time I had spent there. From 9 to 5 seven days a week it was open. As far as I knew, it was after ten judging by the time I left the apartment. The Store would never close. The food on the shelves was clearly at least a day or two old judging by the wilting lettuce and the gathering clouds of fruit flies.

I immediately started walking away, worried thoughts running through my mind. Albert had said that Miss. Reich - his aunt, was sick. She owned the Store, but wouldn't he inherit it? Wouldn't someone inherit it? And when had she died? It then struck me like a runaway train - one life was equivalent to one life. By saving Hughes, someone had died. I had no way of knowing who, but something told me it was her.

Nearly knocking people over as I limped/ran with my crutches, I had no clue where I was or where I was going until I saw a familiar cemetery, with neatly laid identical headstones. Across the street from it was a more local cemetery, the few headstones not as formal. It just went to show how deadly the Ishvalan war was, the headstones in a military field outnumbering the local cemetery 10 to 1.

But currently, a small service was dispersing, the few individuals quickly leaving the scene with emotionless gazes and heavy sighs. One figure remained high on the hill, clad entirely in black. As I made my way to the figure, I was relieved to see it was Miss. Reich, her dress elegant and a veil obscuring her face.

"Miss. Reich!" I called out, my breathing labored as I hobbled over. "I was so worried when I saw that the Store was closed-" I stopped talking when I caught sight of the tombstone she was quietly staring at as two men filled in the deep hole before her.

'Albert Reich' it read, 'Born July 18th, 1894' my heart jumped to my throat at the next line, 'Died September 8th, 1914'. Albert was dead. I didn't cry, but I wanted to. My heart felt like a stone in my chest, weighing me down and making me want to to fall to the ground and stay there until someone would come by and pick me up.

"I'm..." I felt as if all the air had been sucked from my lungs, but quickly gathered it to finish. "I'm so sorry," Miss. Reich dipped her head, the veil over her face hiding any expression.

"It was quite sudden," She said, her voice steady and bordering annoyed as it always did. "He was just complaining about his arm and side hurting, I thought he had pulled a muscle lifting a box of cucumbers, but," Her voice changed, bitterness seeping into her tone and sadness evident in her shaking shoulders. "He, he fell down during dinner, he couldn't breath, he was in so much pain. By the time we got to the emergency room...there was nothing they could do," I clenched my jaw and stared at the ground, a few teardrops forming at the corners of my eyes, but I quickly wiped them away. "He had always had a weak heart, it isn't surprising it gave so suddenly,"

"Ma'am," I began, a migraine suddenly throbbing in my skull, "I'm sorry for your loss. I-I'm going to miss the guy," I looked at her, the woman shivering despite the early autumn heat. "Do you want me to walk you home?" Miss. Reich laughed her usual laugh, all signs of bitterness and sorrow fading in an instant.

"I'm not that old, Irish. Go home, get some sleep. I'm going to need a lot of help tomorrow, get there bright and early," She commanded, turning away from me slightly. Even though she was wearing a veil, I knew she must have been crying.

"Yes," I said quietly, giving a small smirk before correcting myself, "Yes, ma'am,"

At the apartment, I merely told Gracia that they had closed early because Miss. Reich got sick. I didn't want anyone to worry or grieve more than they already had.

The next morning, I got up before the sun to greet the new day. In all honesty, I hadn't sleep at all. I had tossed and turned the entire night, guilt eating my conscious. I was responsible for Albert's death. An innocent man had died because of my actions. I had killed someone. I was once more directly responsible for the death of a human being, and this person did not deserve death for any reason other than my meddling.

McDougal would have been killed whether or not I had been there, but Albert could have lived out his life. He could of fallen in love, gotten married, had a family, been happy. I took that all away for some selfish fulfillment. I was a despicable human being - now two families were mourning, one a living man and the other a dead man. And it was all my fault.

Now, these thoughts were entirely subconscious. My mind was focused on making sure I got back my orthodics, and making some bacon for Elicia to eat once she woke up. I left the apartment without my crutches, deciding to test my mobility in the quietness of the Store's backroom before trying to walk around Gracia and worry her more than she already was.

Outside, the air was cold but humid, a storm imminent. Thankfully I made it to the store before the clouds broke, however, the front door was still locked tight. I stood for a moment, pondering if I had time before the storm to get back to the apartment. Then I recalled the backroom, and slipped through the narrow alley to the backdoor. I had noticed it cleaning one day, that the lock was broken. Miss. Reich said that she left it there to dissuade robbers, not that it would do much to stop one.

"Miss. Reich?" I called out softly, the stench of rotting eggs and bad milk causing me to hesitate as I opened the door. I shrugged, seeing the lights off and the store devoid of life. Perhaps she hadn't arrived yet, I wouldn't blame her for wanting to sleep in. A yawn escaped my lips as I set to work, throwing away the old and rotting food - all of it, and cleaning the shelves.

By the time I finished it was after noon, the entire store fresh and clean, smelling of fresh oranges courtesy of my breakfast fruit. The newspapers piled on the doorstep were filed into place at the front counter, and the old ones thrown out. A delivery of fresh eggs and milk were carefully place onto shelves, but other deliveries would take the rest of the week to show up. I wanted to return to the apartment and check on Gracia, when the first costumer showed up.

It was a familiar old lady, the one I had helped my first day at the Store. She seemed surprised to see the place open.

"My, have they sold it already?" She inquired, squinting at the empty shelves. This comment concerned me.

"Sold it? Why would Miss. Reich do that?" The woman shuffled towards me, concern evident in her eyes despite her thick eyeglasses.

"You must not have heard, poor woman fell onto the train track last night," I couldn't breath. I had so many questions, but the old woman rambled on, " They think she must have jumped. Such a pity, I've been coming here since Olga first opened it. They always said a woman could never run the business but she did such a good job," The woman's rattlings ceased as she inspected my appearance. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

I was breathing heavy, my heartbeat all that filled my hearing. Without answering I turned and fled to the backroom, slamming the door behind me as I slid to the floor and cried. I didn't care that the Store was unattended, or that the old woman must have notified an officer that some strange girl was operating the closed Grocery Store by herself. None of that seemed to matter as I sat there and cried.

The thoughts that had kept me from the fickle mistress of sleep came crashing in, clear and loud. These events were entirely my fault. All because of me. One life was equal to one life, but other casualties were not taken into account. After calming myself down best I could, I limped back to the apartment, ignoring the flooding rain that soaked my clothes and plastered my pale blonde locks against my neck and shoulders. All my fault. It was all my fault two people were dead.

Ignoring the stares and concerned glances of the lobbyist and other tenants, I trudged up the stairs, the pain in my leg dulled by the ache in my heart. I didn't even bother knocking as I entered the apartment, the kitchen and den quiet.

"Good, Irish, if you could - Are you okay? Do you need anything-"

"I'm fine," I whimpered, ignoring Camilla as she tried to comfort me, a hand reaching for my shoulder. "Don't touch me!" I yelled, turning to face her. She was scared, and worried shined in her green eyes. I could hear Elicia in her room, excited I was home. I all but ran to my room, not wanting the Hughes' to see me as I was. I took several deep breaths, wiping fresh tears from my face. Gathering myself and my nightgown, I made a break for the bathroom, sure that no one had seen me long enough to initiate a conversation.

The freezing bath that followed soothed some of my burning thoughts. Perhaps her death would enable me to save another life - Buccaneer? Old Man Fu maybe? Or perhaps it would let me stop some injuries - Havoc's back, or Mustang's eyes. Immediately a wave of regret followed those thoughts. I was, indirectly and unintentionally, responsible for her death. I was the reason someone took their own life. The thought nauseated me, my stomach turning and twisting the more I thought about the subject.

As I was drying off and trying to think about something irrelevant to the future, there was a sharp knock at the door.

"Irish?" Cam called, her voice only tinged with concern, "There's some officers here, they want to have a word with you,"

'Oh no,' I thought, thinking back to the events of earlier this morning, 'The little old lady really did call the cops, and now Gracia's going to be stressing and-'

I emerged hastily dressed in my night gown to see Denny, standing awkwardly at the door. A moment of anxiety gripped me, reminding me that the plot would pick up after Maria's arrest, and that I would have to avoid the homunculi and the military to survive. This moment passed quickly, however, as his partner stepped through the door holding a small basket with one hand a bin in the other.

"Denny, Maria," I addressed them, relief tinging my voice. Camilla appeared tense, but seemed to calm down as she entered the kitchen and began making lunch. "What are you two doing here?" Maria held out the basket.

"The investigation's over, you can have your things back,"

"Oh, thanks," I said, taking the bin from her as she also held out the fruit basket.

"This is for Gracia," Solemness seeped into the atmosphere, I taking the basket slowly and placing it on the nearby dining table.

"How have you been?" Denny piped in, breaking the growing sadness of the conversation. Despite his cheery tone, one could hear what he was trying to ask - 'How have you all been dealing with the grief?' I looked down, shrugging.

"Fine, I guess," I looked to Camilla who glanced at me skeptically. "I'm pretty much walking on my own now, I'm getting the stitches out tomorrow," Maria gave a soft smile

"Don't strain yourself," She stole a glance at the clock, "We best be going."

"Take it easy, Irish," Denny said, giving a small wave before following Ross out, the room falling silent with the exception of the boiling water on the stove.

I went to my bedroom to gather my thoughts and make sure everything had been returned. I started by taking inventory of the basket. My clothes had been washed, hydrogen peroxide and baking soda evident in the scent. Beneath them were my necklaces, which I put on in haste. The comfort of the metal against my skin relaxed me as I continued my inspection of the bin.

My knife had been lost to my dismay, realizing that it was farther evidence for Mustang to suspect me. Another missing item was my book from the library. I realized it must have been left in the Archive Room, but I had little motivation to return there, and it was most likely closed for the investigation.

I soon realized I had left the card from Elicia as well as the ticket stubs in the hospital room, and a new worried overcame me. What if Mustang realized the farce? What if he knew Hughes had survived? What if he tried to track down Hughes? A migraine started, and I groaned as I drew the curtains to block out what little sunshine burned through the hovering rain clouds.

Throwing my cleaned clothes onto the half packed bag at the end of my bed, I laid down and once more stared at the ceiling before the thoughts that had spurred the packing returned. I closed my eyes, and fell into the lull of sleep even though it was still early in the day. I would leave the Hughes' household soon, at least within the next two weeks.

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