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wolfstar-in-color · 3 years

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July Colorful Column: Remus is a Crip, and We Can Write Him Better.

There is one thing that can get me to close a fic so voraciously I don’t even make sure I’m not closing other essential tabs in the process. It doesn’t matter how much I’m loving the fic, how well written I think it is, or how desperately I want to know how it ends. Once I read this sentence, I am done.

It’s written in a variety of different ways, but it always goes something like this: “You don’t want me,” Remus said, “I am too sick/broken/poor/old/[insert chosen self-demeaning adjective here].”

You’re familiar with the trope. The trope is canonical. And if you’ve been around the wolfstar fandom for longer than a few minutes, you’ve read the trope. Maybe you love the trope! Maybe you’ve written the trope! Maybe you’re about to stop reading this column, because the trope rings true to you and you feel a little attacked!

Now, let’s get one thing out of the way right now: I am not saying the trope is wrong. I am not saying it’s bad. I am not saying we should stop writing it. We all have things we don’t like to see in our chosen fics. Maybe you can’t stand Leather Jacket Motorbike Sirius? Maybe you think Elbow Patch Remus is overdone? Or maybe your pet peeves are based in something a little deeper - maybe you think Poor Latino Remus is an irresponsible depiction, or that PWPs are too reductive? Whatever it is, we all have our things.

Let me tell you about my thing. When I first became very ill several years ago, there were various low points in which I felt I had become inherently unlovable. This is, more or less, a normal reaction. When your body stops doing things it used to be able to do - or starts doing things you were quite alright without, thank you very much - it changes the way you relate to your body. You don’t want to hear my whole disability history, so yada yada yada, most people eventually come to accept their limitations. It’s a very painful existence, one in which you constantly tell yourself your disability has transformed you into a burdensome, unworthy member of society, and if nothing else, it’s not terribly sustainable. Being disabled takes grit! It takes power! It takes a truly absurd amount of medical self-advocacy! Hating yourself? Thinking yourself unworthy of love? No one has time for that.

Of course, I’m being hyperbolic. Plenty of disabled people struggle with these feelings many years into their disabilities, and never really get over them. But here’s the thing. We experience those stories ALL THE TIME. Remember Rain Man? Or Million Dollar Baby? Or that one with the actress from Game of Thrones and that British actor who seemed like he was going to have a promising career but then didn't? Those are all stories about sad, bitter disabled people and their sad, bitter lives, two out of three of which end in the character completing suicide because they simply couldn’t imagine having to live as a disabled person. (I mean, come on media, I get that we're less likely to enjoy a leisurely Saturday hike, but our parking is SUBLIME.) When was the last time you engaged with media that depicted a happy disabled person? A complex disabled person? A disabled person who has sex? No really, these aren’t hypothetical questions, can you please drop a rec in the notes?? Because I am desperate.

There are lots of problems with this trope, and they’ve been discussed ad nauseam by people with PhDs. I’m not actually interested in talking about how this trope leads to a more prevalent societal idea that disabled people are unworthy of love, or contributes to the kind of political thought processes that keep disabled people purposefully disenfranchised. I’m just a bitch on Tumblr, and I have a bone to pick: the thing I really hate about the trope? It’s boring. I’m bored. You know how, like, halfway through Grey’s Anatomy you realized they were just recycling the same plot points over and over again and there was just no WAY anyone working at a hospital prone to THAT MANY disasters would stay on staff? It's like that. I love a recycled trope as much as the next person (There Was Only One Bed, anyone?). But I need. Something. Else.

Remus is disabled. BOLD claim. WILD speculation. Except, not really. You simply - no matter how you flip it, slice it, puree it, or deconstruct it - cannot tell me Remus Lupin is not disabled. Most of us, by this point, are probably familiar with the way that One Canonical Author intended One Dashing Werewolf to be “a metaphor for those illnesses that carry stigma, like HIV and AIDS” [I’m sorry to link you to an outside source quoting She Who Must Not Be Named, but we’re professionals here]. Which is... a thing. It’s been discussed. And, listen, there’s no denying that this parallel is a problematic interpretation of people who have HIV/AIDS and all such similar “those illnesses” (though I’ll admit that I, too, am perennially apt to turn into a raging beast liable to harm anything that crosses my path, but that’s more linked to the at-least-once-monthly recollection that One Day At A Time got cancelled). Critiques aside, Remus Lupin is a character who - due to a condition that affects him physically, mentally, emotionally, and intellectually - is repeatedly marginalized, oppressed, denied political and social power, and ostracized due to unfounded fear that he is infectious to others. Does that sound familiar?

We’re not going to argue about whether or not “Remus is canonically disabled as fuck” is a fair reading. And the reason we’re not going to argue about whether or not it’s a fair reading is because I haven’t read canon in 10-plus years and you will win the argument. Canon is only marginally relevant here. The icon of this blog is brown, curly haired Remus Lupin kissing his trans boyfriend, Sirius Black. We are obviously not too terribly invested in canon. The wolfstar fandom is now a community with over 25,000 AO3 fics, entire careers launched from drawing or writing or cosplaying this non-canonical pairing. We love to play around here with storylines and universes and races and genders and sexualities and all kinds of things, but most of the time? Remus is still disabled. He’s disabled as a werewolf in canon-compliant works, he’s disabled in the AUs where he was injured or abused or kidnapped or harmed as a child, he’s disabled in the stories that read him as chronically ill or bipolar or traumatized or blind or Deaf. I’d go so far as to say that he is one of very few characters in the Wide Wonderful World of media who is, in as close to his essence as one can be, always disabled. And that means? Don’t shoot the messenger... but we could stand to be a tiny bit more responsible with how we portray him.

Disabled people are complicated. As much as I’d like to pretend we are always level-headed, confident, and ready to assert our inherent worth, we are still just humans. We have bad days. We doubt our worth. We sometimes go out with guys who complain about our steroid-induced weight gain (it was a long time ago, Tumblr, okay??). But, we also have joy and fun and good days and sex and happiness and families and so many other things.

Remus is a disabled character, and as such, it’s only fair that he’d have those unworthy moments. But - I propose - Remus is also a crip. What is a crip? A crip - like a queer - is someone who eschews the limited boundaries placed on their bodies, who rejects a hierarchy of oppression in favor of an intersectional analysis of lived experience, who isn’t interested in being the tragic figure responsible for helping people with dominant identities realize how good they have it. Crips interpret their disabilities however they want, rethinking bodies and medicine and pleasure and pain and even time itself. Crips are political, community-minded, and in search of liberation.

Remus is a character who struggles with his disability, sure. But he’s also a character who leverages his physical condition to attempt to shift communities towards his political leanings, advocates for the rights of those who share his physical condition, and has super hot sex with his wrongfully convicted boyfriend ultimately goes on to build community and family. Having a condition that quite literally cripples you, over which you have no control, and through which you are often read as a social pariah? That’s disability. But using said condition as a means through which to build advocacy and community? Now that’s some crip shit.

Personally, I love disabled!Remus Lupin. But I love crip!Remus Lupin even more. I’d love to see more of a Remus who owns his disability, who covets what makes him unique, and who never ever again tells a potential romantic partner they are too good for him because of his disability. This trope - unlike There Was Only One Bed! - sometimes actually hurts to read. Where’s Remus who thinks a potential romantic partner isn’t good enough for him? Where’s Remus who insists his partners learn more about his condition in order to treat him properly? Where’s sexy wheelchair user Remus? Where’s Remus who uses his werewolf transformations as an excuse to travel the world? Where’s crip Remus??

We don’t have to put “you don’t want me” Remus entirely to bed. It is but one of many repeated tropes that are - in the words of The Hot Priest from Fleabag - morally a bit dubious. And let’s face it - we don’t always come to fandom for its moral superiority (as much as we sometimes like to think we do).

This is not a condemnation - it is an invitation. Able-bodied folks are all but an injury, illness, or couple decades away from being disabled. And when you get here, I sincerely hope you don’t waste your time on “you don’t want me”ing back and forth with the people you love. I’m inviting you to come to the crip side now. We have snacks, and without all the “you don’t want me” talk, we get to the juicy parts much faster.

Colorfully,

Mod Theo

#wolfstar #disability in fandom #disabled remus #crip remus #please write me some crip remus #I beg of you #fandom meta

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dercolaris · 3 years

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Unexpected Happiness

Fandom: Resident Evil Village

Characters: Donna Beneviento, Salvatore Moerau, Angie

Relationship: Donna Beneviento & Salvatore Moreau (Friendship)

Genre: Hurt and Comfort, Friendship

Word length: 2084

Warnings: No warnings

Status: Complete

Short summary: All she wants is a friend by her side. It seems that she is not alone with this wish.//Donna Beneviento & Salvatore Moreau, Friendship

Have fun :)

Salvatore scratched his deformed nose lightly, obviously trying to alleviate the recurring itching on his body a little bit. This whole mutation was slowly driving him insane. His new appearance regularly made him sick whenever he dared to take a glimpse in a mirror. He'd probably never been the prettiest boy in the village, but at least the people back then didn't panic at the sight of him or tried to kill him. The doctor looked down at the snow-covered path, a little depressed with his heavy thoughts. Fortunately, Mother Miranda was more than friendly towards him and had welcomed him into her family with open arms – much to the displeasure of Alcina Dimitrescu and Karl Heisenberg. The black-haired man rolled his eyes in annoyance. Apparently the two brawlers agreed on at least one point. A miracle. Salvatore pushed that thought aside and lifted his right hand a little, turning it palm up. The snow fell like soft feathers on his greyish shimmering skin. His eyes watched, fascinated, as the icy flakes slowly melted in the warmth and finally flowed down his fingers. The Lord smiled sadly at the sight. Probably nobody in the village really appreciated the wonders of nature. The doctor wiped his hand dry on his coat and strolled on through the deep snow. Today's family reunion had completely escalated again. Salvatore sighed calmly. That was actually nothing unusual any more, but the intensity of today's dispute set new standards for the future. Terrifying standards. It ended with Alcina completely smashing two wooden beams of the church with her claws, inflicting a severe wound on Karls back and a total of eight Lycans losing their heads.

Mother Miranda was having a hard time getting her spoiled children back to their senses. At that moment, the black-haired man reproached himself for his cowardly behaviour. He would have wanted to intervene earlier, but with his low self-confidence he could not express his thoughts good enough. Alcina and Karl wouldn't listen to him anyway. Salvatore felt a small tear collect in the corner of his eye. He felt so weak and useless compared to them. In addition, they did not suffer from such a drastic physical mutation. Alcina and Karl looked human, but now they lacked any sort of humanity. Their hearts were frozen to death from the greedy parasite in their blood. The black-haired man shook the snow from his coat and wandered on through the far too quiet village. His grey eyes stared up the white path as he could see the outline of a person in the distance. The man wiped his runny nose. A fearless villager? Salvatore shrugged and walked on, panting heavily. After a while he could hear faint sobs. Strange. The doctor got closer and closer to the source of the noise. Without any warning, a doll suddenly stood in his way, the little wooden arms whirling around wildly in the air. The black-haired man frowned in confusion and looked again at the figure, which was now only a few meters away from him on a wooden bench. Donna Beneviento. The black mourning robe left no doubt. What had made the poor woman cry so bitterly? The man took his eyes off the Countess and spoke carefully to the doll at his feet: "Why is your Maker crying like that, Angie? What is wrong?" The wooden figure rattled its mouth for a moment, then replied sadly: “Alcina and Karl were way too loud at the meeting today. Donna was terribly frightened and panicked.” The Lord grimaced angrily. The doll maker was probably the most fragile soul among them and needed special protection from Mother Miranda when the other children argued among themselves again. However, the closer they got to the ceremony, the less the priestess cared about her mentally ill daughter. It almost seemed like she was going to lose interest in Donna.

Salvatore slowly shook his head. Mother Miranda would never abandon any of them. He had to have faith in the priestess. His grey eyes wandered back to the crying woman. How could a ghastly figure like him adequately help a fragile, pure soul like Donna? A slight tug on his leg made him look down again. Even Angie looked kind of sad today. The doll muttered tearfully: “Can you make us laugh again, Moreau? Usually we have so much fun together and now we are sad. We don't like that.” The man nodded hesitantly. He knew a few jokes, but they weren't particularly good or suitable for the doll maker. Salvatore held out his hand to the wooden figure. Angie looked a little sceptically at the bulging fingers and finally cautiously cupped them. Together they walked through the snow. The Countess had taken off her face veil and was crying bitterly into her hands. The doctor hesitated for a moment, but then sat down next to the woman on the cold wood. The material groaned under his weight, but withstood the strain. Angie made herself comfortable between them. The doll continued to hold his hand and made no move to let go of it for the next few minutes. Salvatore wanted to start to speak, but closed his mouth again. He had never had to comfort anyone. Meanwhile, the salty tears were dripping from the woman's narrow chin onto her black dress. The Lord sighed and spoke softly: "Ms. Beneviento, I am terribly sorry for what you had to go through in Church today. These two idiots cannot always curb their temperament and mother Miranda is too overwhelmed with them. Alcina and Karl still don't deserve your tears.” The addressed only sniffed louder at his reply. The man slumped a little.

Could he possibly have said something wrong? Angie's childish voice answered the unsolicited question: "We understand your kind words, Moreau, but we can't just stop crying." The black-haired man put his free hand on his chin and tapped his lower lip. What a difficult task. After a while, he continued slowly: “It's okay to cry and to give space to the overwhelming fear in your heart. Tears cleanse our souls after all.” The doll now also lowered her head a little. More snowflakes fell from the dark sky, wrapping those present in a white, icy robe. The white smoke puffed out of his nose as he exhaled, making it very clear how cold it actually had to be. Salvatore rubbed the hypothermic skin on his cheek and started speaking again: "Have you ever looked into the sky when the snow is pirouetting in the wind and dancing to the rhythm of nature?" The Countess suddenly froze, the sobs died away this moment. Angie's head turned slowly towards the man next to her. There was a gentle smile on his lips. He reached out his left hand and started counting the snowflakes that touched his skin. The doll watched him carefully, then turned to her creator. As always, the dialogue between them was silent. The doctor waited patiently. Suddenly Donna also raised her hand and turned it upwards. The first snowflakes fell on the pale skin. A small, barely audible giggle escaped the doll maker's throat. She, too, began to count with the Lord in a whisper. Salvatore felt an inner relief. At least for that moment the tears stopped. He tipped his head back as best he could and replied calmly: “I love the gentle touch of the cold. It feels incredibly nice on my face. Especially when the snow starts to melt and then runs down my skin.” The woman was still watching her hand, silently counting the flakes. A pleasant calmness fell over them, enveloping this small part of the village in an almost harmonious atmosphere.

The doctor moved his head back to its original position and smiled at the silent doll maker. She closed her hand very slowly, squeezing a little water out of her fist. Angie shifted slightly on the bench, finally asked a little more calmly than before: “Why did the two of them fight again today? They don't want to be friends, yes?” Salvatore frowned in surprise. Only now did he notice how petrified the Countess's features were. His fingers tightened around the doll's dead hands as he replied uncertainly: “This is very difficult to explain, Angie. I think Alcina and Karl just have different views and get angry when someone contradicts them. I don't know if such a friendship can be made.” The woman did not respond to his explanation. She seemed to withdraw into herself again. Her almost palpable conflict had an incredible effect on the doctor and now prevents him from leaving her alone on the bench. Angie spoke in a whisper: “We had hoped that they would get along and that we could finally be a real family or at least friends. We are sometimes very lonely.” These words hit the man harder than he thought. Presumably everyone present felt how the loneliness ate them up from the inside and would eventually drive them crazy. So he was not alone in suffering from this self-imposed isolation. The black-haired man didn't know what to answer for a second. Salvatore shook some snow off his body and replied cautiously: "I don't know if we will all be one family, but Mother Miranda has deliberately chosen us as her children. I guess there is a chance." The doctor felt that this sentence was a very big lie. A lie he couldn't deny.

Yes, they were all chosen because they were able to integrate the parasite better than the other test objects into their organism. This realization was harsh, but not to be dismissed out of hand. Salvatore could only hope that Donna, out of her childish naivete, did not concern herself with it any further and questioned her position as a daughter. The doll moved its legs slightly, which dangled helplessly from the bench. There was silence between them for a good minute, until Angie asked softly: "So will we be alone forever, Moreau?" The person addressed felt the air in his lungs compress. He shook his head vehemently and said eagerly: “No, no, of course not! You two are such good souls, there is really not a single reason to not like you. You two deserve wonderful friends.” Donna winced slightly, then turned her head to one side. The greyish eyes fixed the disfigured face of the Lord. He was getting nervous at this haunted gaze. As if out of nowhere, the doll maker suddenly spoke in a whisper: “Friends? I deserve friends? Take a good look at my forehead. Who would want me as a friend with this tumour? ”Salvatore stared at her with wide eyes. The parasite felt the woman's forehead with its long antennae and overgrown the wound. The man blinked a few times and tried to not look at the organism. That would be extremely rude to the woman. After a while he replied calmly: “Well, if you want to, Ms. Beneviento, we could actually be friends.” The doll-maker tilted her head slightly, looking for a lie in the Lords eyes.

Angie had jumped up and climbed onto the man's lap. There she squealed excitedly: "Can we be friends too, Moreau? Please, please, please!" "Of course," the doctor laughed in relief and added, "Anyone who wants to be my friend is welcome." The doll immediately began to giggle. She held her wooden hand to her creator and motioned for her to slide closer. Angie said happily: “How long do you want to sit there, Donna? We now have a real nice friend and he will not hurt us! He doesn't bite or do you bite Moreau? Don't lie!” The black-haired man shook his head with a big smile. The Countess hesitated a little longer before carefully sliding further towards the man. When her doll's hand came within reach, she gently cupped her little fingers. Only now did the Lord notice how much Donna was actually shivering from the cold. She whispered softly with chattering teeth: “So we are really friends, Salvatore? Your word of honour?” The childlike naivete surprised the doctor again. Without further ado, he took off his heavy coat and put it warmly around the doll maker's shoulders. She didn't respond to this gesture, just patiently waited for the man to answer. "Yes, word of honour," confirmed the Lord with a smile and lovingly cupped Angie's other hand again. Donna's mouth corners pulled up slowly when she replied softly: "Friends."

#Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil 8 #Donna Beneviento #Salvatore Moreau #Angie #Doll Maker #Doll #Parasite #Friendship #Hurt and Comfort

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gloochie · 4 years

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here’s a fuckin rant about how in love i am with sunny’s portrayal of realistic anorexia // ed tw obviously

doesn’t take up the character’s entire personality

yeah there’s tons of shows with characters that have eating disorders, but usually that is the only purpose of the character, so their entire personality is just the eating disorder. yes that is how it can feel for the individual in real life, that they are nothing without their eating disorder, but that isn’t how other people see them. their friends see a regular person and often don’t even see the eating disorder at all.

dennis is orthorexic and anorexic, that’s obvious, but that isn’t all that either the other characters or the audience see. as he’s primarily known as a ‘psychopathic narcissistic serial killer / golden god’, especially by ‘dudebros’. the other characters obviously think this as well, as the word ‘eating disorder’ and ‘dennis’ have yet to coexist in a sentence, and only on one or maybe two occasions have the other characters seemed to show any sort of concern for his habits.

the other characters don’t care or lack knowledge [ highlighting male eating disorder / mental illness awareness ]

from memory there are three occasions where the other characters seem to recognise his unhealthy behaviour. [ although there are many references to his ed in various other episodes ]

the first example is in ‘the gang exploits a miracle’ which is also the first and most major portrayal of his eating disorder in the show. dee had told him that his face looked fat, so he proceeded to not eat for three days. when frank discovered he was fasting, he said ‘why the hell are you fasting’ and sounded annoyed. and when he noticed him spacing out, he told him that he should eat but said nothing else. then when dennis faints at the end , he merely says ‘that’s what you get for not eating’. so the entire time, frank found his behaviour irritating rather than worrying. when dee discovers that she caused dennis to fast for three days, she expresses faux concern before informing him that he’s a terrible person. despite finally revealing to him that his face doesn’t look fat, she doesn’t hesitate to continue to put him down. [ mac and charlie seem to have absolutely no significant interaction with him in this episode, so their opinions at this point don’t exist ]

the next episode is ‘franks pretty woman’ dennis takes mac to the doctor to get a physical / blood test to try and show him that he’s unhealthy. dennis is then shocked to discover that both of them are unhealthy - albeit on different sides of the scale -, as it is revealed that dennis has anemia, dehydration, low blood pressure, and multiple vitamin deficiencies. these are all side affects from a restrictive diet. he also explains to mac in detail the other steps he takes, including skipping meals, and excessively exercising. mac does not seem too phased besides from exclaiming ‘that’s sounds miserable’. when dennis almost faints and informs mac he hadn’t eaten yet that day, mac reacts by saying he’s going to get him something to eat, which he does. the two end up eating chimichangas. mac says [ paraphrasing ] ‘see? i told you they’re good.’

the final time dennis’ eating habits are really noticed by the gang is in ‘the gang chokes’ in which he claims to have an ‘allergy’ to gluten, sugar, and dairy. this is obviously false as in previous episodes he’s eaten cheese, pizza, and other such things. despite mac forgetting, he tries to help dennis stick to his ‘dietary requirements’. later on in the episode, dennis claims to have ‘depleted his electrolytes’ and had fallen ill due to the pollen in the air, although he was acting similar to ‘exploits a miracle’ which may point to him fasting. mac is quick to help, he picks him up and carries him bridal style all the way home [ despite dropping him twice ]. finally, dennis grows sick from drinking the pizza and soda shakes that mac has been giving him, and mac claims it ‘wrecks havoc on his system’ which is why he’s sick, although the real reason is rarther ambiguous [ actually intolerance, mild refeeding syndrome, generally unwell? ]

dennis does not look anorexic.

this is possibly my favourite part of their portrayal. in movies and tv that are made to raise awareness about anorexia, the character in question is almost always deathly pale, extremely underweight. however, dennis isn’t like that at all. in seasons 9 and 10 he looks to be a very healthy weight, and in previous seasons he was still relatively healthy.

this is amazing to see because not all cases of anorexia are anorexia nervosa, not all patients meet the weight requirement for the nervosa diagnoses. so portraying someone with disordered eating but a non disordered body is great representation and often more realistic.

[ despite this, there’s obvious proof that glenn howerton has begun slimming down for his role as of at least season 14, dennis is starting to physically show signs of anorexia. ]

fatphobia projection

dennis is extremely fatphobic. in ‘aluminium monster vs fatty magoo’ he calls the slim models ‘fat’ and ‘ugly’, to the point where he takes their place [ while wearing a corset ]. he is also shown to find mac disgusting when he gains weight, he finds it so distressing that he obtains illegal medication and drugs mac so he will lose weight.

this is all a very common thing with anorexia and other restrictive eating disorders, the ‘ed voice’ that tells you that you’re fat says that others are fat as well, and your illness makes you internally fatphobic.

he isn’t just insecure about his weight.

there are many different reasons that one gets an eating disorder, whether due to trauma, preexisting mental illness, from stress, parental abuse etc. however one main reason is to gain a feeling of ‘control’ over ones body, to be able to shape it to your will and make it as ‘perfect’ as you can.

in dennis’ case, he claims to see himself as a ‘golden god’, sculpted by the gods, and just all round flawless. this is extremely obviously false, as the second a flaw is pointed out to him he takes extreme measures to rectify such a thing:

‘the gang exploits a miracle’ - he starves himself for three days after dee says his face is fat

‘how mac got fat’ - he dyes his hair and gets a chemical peel after feeling pressured to keep up his ‘reputation’ as the attractive one in the group

‘the high school reunion’ - he wishes to make a good impression at the reunion, and it’s pointed out that he was wearing a girdle to ‘seem thin for the occasion’, he was also wearing makeup but it’s not clear exactly when dennis started wearing makeup on a daily basis so i’m unsure if that was normal or not.

‘dee day’ - he’s extremely insecure and withdrawn without his makeup, he’s unable to hit on the council woman. when he later returns to the bar with his makeup back on, he denies wearing any and claims he was merely tired. this insinuates he wants the gang to believe his looks are natural and not fabricated

there’s also the fact that they’re representing male eating disorders! i don’t think i’ve ever seen a piece of mainstream media that portrays a male with an eating disorder. it’s fucking amazing of them to do it, not to mention do it as well as they have done.

in conclusion, RCG is portraying the most realistic and accurate disordered person i’ve ever seen in media.

#it’s always sunny in philadelphia #its always sunny #iasip #RCG #glenn howerton #dennis reynolds #eating disorders #ED #anorexia #mental illness

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galahadwilder · 4 years

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Unwise

Ch. 2: In Which Too Many People Turn Patrols Into Dates

Happy birthday @alexseanchai! You wanted more Unwise? Here you go!

Convincing Fu to let her bring out the other Miraculi on a semi-permanent basis had been a chore in and of itself. Feast had proven the depth of his paranoia—though, to be fair, it’s not technically paranoia if people are actually out to get you—and she wasn’t prepared to lose Tikki a second time. He’d refused to allow her to bring out more Miraculi, until she’d forcefully reminded him that A. she is a full-fledged Guardian now, he’d said that himself, and B. She, a child, is the one on the front lines while he hides. (She hates bringing that up, because she knows why he’s doing it, but it was that or go insane.)

Eventually, he’d relented, though he’d let her take only the ones who’d already proven themselves. Which was fine, it wasn’t like she was planning on doing any recruiting anytime soon.

She’d been planning to hand out all of the Miraculi herself, as usual, but as soon as she’d had them in her hands she’d paused, reconsidered. Chat was right—trying to do everything herself has been driving her insane. She already knows that, if she goes down, Chat can take the earrings and Mister Bug it up—or, in an emergency situation, just Cataclysm a butterfly and wait for her to get back up—so there’s a little bit of the weight off there. But the fact is, he was originally never supposed to know the identities of any of the backup, and if she were to have gone down in that situation he’d have been left to continue the fight alone in a way that she never would. The thought makes her want to vomit.

And she can’t deny that the way Chat’s face lit up when she asked him to help her distribute the Miraculi had done something funny in her tummy. Not love, of course, nor attraction—absolutely not that, stop laughing Tikki—but something. She’d laid out all of the Miraculi Fu had let her take on their favorite rooftop, then, after a moment’s consideration, handed him the Horse, the Bee, and the Dragon (she’d briefly passed her hand over the snake, but she saw the way he tried to suppress a shudder; curious as his reaction made her, she knew she couldn’t let herself think about what that was about, lest she learn something she shouldn’t).

She picked up the Fox, the Snake, the Turtle, and the Mouse, then paused, thought, made a decision. “You already know who the mouse is,” she said. “If you ever need an illusionist, and I’m not there to help you...” She held up the foxtail necklace. “This one goes to the Ladyblogger.”

Chat froze. “My Lady,” he said, the Dragon choker dangling between his claws, “are you... sure I should know this?”

She nodded. “You said yourself, I can’t keep doing this alone,” she said. “You’re my partner.”

There’d been no big meeting; someone might’ve noticed that Multimouse wasn’t there, and that would lead to questions she doesn’t want to answer. She’d made a list of reasons why, but surprisingly, Chat had asked for none of them, simply agreeing with her out of hand.

The whole thing is going swimmingly, and yet she can’t help feeling guilty about how she’d arranged the patrols. She’d insisted on not letting Rena Rouge and Carapace patrol together, since there was no way either of them could tear away from each other in a non-emergency situation, so for the first two few nights she’d rotated them through everyone but each other, just to keep from ill-advised makeouts. And yet, here she is, having intentionally arranged herself on patrol with Adrien...

God, she’s a hypocrite.

She can honestly say that after a week of letting other holders cover patrols, she’s more rested than she’s been in a while. But she’s done so many stupid things to spend time with Adrien, it’s not like one more will make a difference at this point, right? And at least this way she’s doing something productive with it. She hopes. If she can, you know, actually hold it together around him to do anything.

“Tikki,” she groans into her hands, her elbows propped on her desk. “Tell me I’m doing the right thing.” The cursor blinks on the anonymous Google schedule she’s been sharing with the team, waiting for her to confirm the time of her first patrol as Multimouse. Her first patrol with Adrien. She wonders, idly, what he’ll choose for his name.

Tikki sighs from her spot on Marinette’s pincushion, rolling a chocolate chip between her paws. “I don’t know,” she says. “Master Fu had very good reasons not to let the rest of us out of the box, but you also have very good reasons.” She looks up at Marinette, her blue eyes shining with compassion. “I do worry about you.”

“I’m just happy to be out and about,” Mullo says, climbing onto Marinette’s phone and poking the screen with delight. “So much new technology! I didn’t get to see this last time you wore me.”

“Not that,” Marinette says, dropping her hands onto the desk—then she tilts her head. “Well, yes that, but not what I’m asking about right now.” She sighs, staring at the calendar block. “Am I being... selfish, with this schedule?”

Tikki purses her lips, then turns the chocolate chip on its side and starts rolling it back and forth on the desk beneath one paw, staring at it pensively.

“Tikki?” Marinette whispers.

Tikki grimaces. “You know you’re not supposed to use your powers for personal gain,” she says. “I’ve told you before.”

Marinette swallows. “I remember,” she whispers.

Tikki tilts her head. “On the other hand,” she says, “this might be more practical than you think.”

Marinette blinks. “What?”

“If he is going to be a full-time member of the team, it might help to acclimate yourself to his presence?” Tikki says, a small smile spreading across her face. “We wouldn’t want you to start tripping over your words in the middle of combat.” She flings the chocolate chip straight up, then launches her tiny body from the desk, swallowing it in a single gulp in a manner reminiscent of the poster for Jaws.

“Hey!” Marinette protests. “I did fine last time!”

“You said one sentence and you had to use Sass to practice it eight times first,” Tikki says with a smug grin, crossing her arms.

Marinette bites her lip, then rolls her eyes. “You see how mean she is to me?” she says to Mullo.

“Hm? What?” the rat says, her head perking up and twisting back and forth. “I’m sorry, I was distracted by this...” Her turns back to the phone, where she’s been swiping between app pages with wide eyes. “Um, magic screen thing.”

Tikki giggles. “Not everything humans do is magic, Mullo.” She flits around to Marinette’s eye level. “Marinette. The day I told you not to use your powers for personal gain? That was our third time out. I didn’t know you then. I do now.” She reaches out, laying her palm on Marinette’s cheek. “You’ve grown into a responsible and professional young woman, and Master Fu has selected you to be the next Guardian.” She floats back. “I trust your judgment. And besides, you deserve a break.” She gestures to the computer screen, where the calendar is still waiting, unfinished. “If this is what you want to do? Then you should do it.”

Marinette swallows as tears brim in her eyes. “I—thank you, Tikki,” she whispers.

“Of course,” Tikki says, zipping forward to hug Marinette’s cheek again. “I love you so much, Marinette.”

“I love you too,” Marinette says, cupping her Kwami to her cheek with her palm.

“Oh my Guardians!” Mullo sobs. “You—you two— you are...” She rolls over onto her back, letting out a tiny melodramatic wail. “Your friendship is so perfect!”

Tikki snorts, backing away from Marinette’s cheek. “Okay. Back down there, Squeakers.”

Marinette sets her jaw, looking at the screen. “So,” she says, “I’m doing this?”

Tikki nods. Mullo rolls back onto her stomach, looking back at her expectantly.

Marinette nods back. “I’m doing this,” she says, and presses her finger down on Enter.

This was a mistake this was a mistake this was a mistake this was a mistake—

Sapis (who looks amazing in his costume, his gossamer half-cape floating off his back, furry cuffs on his wrists, black streaks in his carefully styled hair to resemble antennae—oh, she’s going to be gushing about this to Tikki later) is looking at her with eyes like the night sky, golden irises inset on black sclera, and she feels all the breath leave her body. She’s seen enough of Adrien’s patented “Soft Eyes” in candid shots from Alya that she thought she’d be immune, but nope, photographs have in no way prepared her for the real thing. Sweet Kwamis, she’s going to die and she hasn’t even said a word to him yet.

Say something, Ladybug, she tells herself. But under Sapis’ gaze, in Multimouse’s suit that she’s suddenly aware came out far more cute than her usual reassuringly minimalist design, she doesn’t feel like Ladybug, so when she opens her mouth, she only manages to squeak.

Nice, she thinks, mentally kicking herself. Well done. Very professional.

“H-hi!” she yelps. “Are you, um...” She grips her elbow, her free hand playing with the tail of the jump rope tied around her waist. “Queen Bee’s replacement?”

“Yep,” he says in an exaggeratedly deep voice. He takes a Superman stance, pressing his fists to his hips, and turns his eyes dramatically to look somewhere slightly behind her. It looks generally ridiculous, and he clearly knows it. “Sapis, at your service.”

“Sapis?” she says, squinting one eye, trying to remember if she knows what that means in Latin. Sagesse... that’s the same root, right? “Wisdom?”

His whole face lights up, and her heart leaps in her chest. “Old Latin pun,” he says. “Si sapis, sis apis.” He steps forward, holding out a hand. “If you’re wise? Be a bee.”

She stares at him, looking at his hand, then his face, then his hand, then his face. She has—she knows what she’s supposed to do here, but this is Adrien trying to introduce himself, and she knows it’s him, and he doesn’t know it’s her, and she has to get this impression exactly right. The joke is stupid, silly, it’s so very Chat Noir that she’s caught off guard and suddenly her chest is bubbling, she’s laughing, and oh god is he going to think that she’s laughing at him? Is he going to be disappointed? Is he going to be crushed? Oh Kwamis, is he going to hate her forever?

And then his eyes shut, and he giggles, pure and clear, and it’s just like that moment after the umbrella closed on her head. Lightning strikes in her heart all over again, and it’s everything she can do not to fall on her steadily reddening face.

Finally, he calms down, but when his golden-black eyes turn back to her he’s still beaming. “So,” he says, gesturing to her necklace, “Chat Noir tells me you’re really good with that thing.”

She reaches up, fingers it nervously. “I—pretty good, yeah.”

Sapis grins, hoisting his trompo. “Wanna show me what you’ve got?”

A slow, sly grin spreads across her face in answer as she reaches for her jump rope, the confidence building in her chest. This is familiar territory. This, she can handle. “You’re on, bee boy.”

Adrien wants to see what she can do? He won’t even know what hit him.

198 notes · View notes

taerseok · 4 years

Text

— shoot me | 02 | j.j.k

↬ pairing:. j.j.k × reader

↬ synopsis:. nothing could've prepared you or Jungkook for the unexpected reunion. Past grudges were waiting to be resolved, but his profane eyes made it clear that he was not going to have any mercy on you.

↬ word count:. 5.2k

↬ genre(s):. (attempted) horror, "mystery", angst, mafia!au, past lovers!au

↬ rating:. pg-15

↬ warning(s):. mental illness, language, mafia stuff, reader's kidnapped, hallucinations are seen, e.t.c.

↬ A/N: Ahhh, thank youu for the support on the last part T T, I lub you!! Goodness I was really nervous to post this part, but here ya go!!! Also, thank you for 100 followers :)

—

Your nerves were killing you. Your toxic thoughts were killing you. As if being kidnapped wasn't enough, Jimin had to say that.

You got up, mustering all the power you had. Your feet hurt, but you managed to limp around the room. Everything blended in with everything else, all things were color-coordinated. You didn't dare to touch the drawers or open them; you were scared you'd find bloody weapons or something. So you had been watching a lot of horror movies lately.

You were scared if Jungkook found out about you looking around the room, he'd think you were snooping. You weren't in the mood to be blamed for anything, but you did want to find out what had led Jungkook to such a devastated position. A billion questions ran through your head at once, most were the same ones recurring.

You wondered how he had gotten to this place, what had happened to his poor mother. You had met her only once in high school, she was beautiful very much like Jungkook himself. She had treated you nicely, despite Jungkook's obvious dislike for her. She had cared for you and complimented you multiple times too, telling you of how she was so 'grateful that Jungkook had gotten someone so pretty and impressive as you'.

Those words were a little empty to you now. When you had heard them, you were initially surprised and gushed over them, blushing and being modest. But if this time you denied them, you wouldn't even be modest anymore. You had certainly lost your shine as the years had passed. You weren't as youthful as before, definitely not as fun. Even though you still considered yourself someone unique, life just wasn't the same anymore.

For one, you had grown up and you knew the harsh realities of life. And second, you wouldn't even mention these things anymore because you envied it. You just envied your past. But there was one thing you never envied all along — breaking Jungkook's heart.

You knew you had done it, you were to blame, but it was to protect him too. You wondered if your decision could really be called wrong. You did everything that seemed right to you, so why wasn't everyone accepting it? You had nothing but good at heart for Jungkook. But the only problem was that he couldn't understand it.

You shook your head to stop your train of thought. Slowly, you made your way to the window, your feet hurting whenever you moved them. It was closed.

It reminded you very much of how Jungkook was; closed. What was in his heart couldn't get out, and what was outside couldn't get in. Much like his feelings. He had forgotten to feel anything else but spite, self-pity and indifference. And that hurt even you.

But where did you lie in the spectrum? Were you on the other side of the window, where he only acted as a cold wind to you? Or were you inside, actually being sheltered and protected by him? That was something you hadn't understood. Neither did you feel like you had the need or right to.

You let out a sigh before attempting to open the window, but it wouldn't budge. It was shut for good. You huffed, shaking your head. You wished some fresh air could be let in. You really needed it.

The cold voice that came next made you let out another sigh of exhaustion, catching you off-guard and stopping you in your actions. “Trying to escape?” the voice was clear as day, and yet it was similar to something you'd hear on a rainy night. It was clouded and conflicted, it held pain and at the same time, it was detatched to reality. You wouldn't call it meek. It was just empty. And emptiness reflected a lot.

You turned around to see Jungkook standing in the doorway. You got exactly what you didn't want. He still had that blank expression on his face, and his eyes, yet still, spoke a ton. One part of you knew that Jungkook wasn't good at lying. In fact, he hated it. And whenever he did lie, you could see his eyes just beckoning you to ask for the truth.

And whenever he did something he didn't want, say something he didn't mean, his eyes would tell you that too. You had known him for years, but everything about him seemed so foreign now. He didn't even feel like him anymore. He was like a different person, he wasn't the Jungkook you had fell for.

If you didn't know well enough, you would've thought it was another person entirely. It was just his eyes that still reminded you of him from the past. Even if they were dark, they still shone. As bright as the last time you had seen him. If you looked closely, you might see stars twinkling.

“I wasn't,” you looked him dead in the eyes as you spoke, but the eye-contact was broken pretty early. You didn't know if you were to take that in a positive or negative way. “Leave me alone — no — just let me go,” you bit your lip, trying to hide the frustration. His silence did nothing to help. “Thank you for putting me on the no-harm list,” you smiled at him teasingly, and while the sentence did make him turn towards you ever so slightly, he turned his head away after seeing that petty smile.

Even he knew you were mad. He had known you just as well as you had him over the past few years you had been in contact. You both had changed plenty, but he could still see the same you he had known.

“Now I'm stuck in this hell-hole. Oh, and might I mention that it's all because of you?” you didn't know why you were speaking in that way to him. He could kill you in that instant if he wanted to. And maybe you were begging for it this time. You had decided you had enough. It was better if he killed you off. You did not want to live here.

“Have you forgotten whose room you're in?” for the first time in a while, you saw irritation. His brows furrowed when he spoke, before his expression softened a little. “I didn't know you had forgotten your place?” and then he was advancing towards you.

Pinning you against the wall, Jungkook peered over your small figure. Your confidence vanished. As if it didn't exist in the first place, and your mind went blank. You were almost too scared to move. You had stopped breathing, too scared of the lack of distance between you two. But it amused him. It made him grin like the little devil he was. And how you wished you could wipe that pretty smirk off his face. But it wasn't possible. In terms of strength, it was pretty clear who'd win.

And you found yourself again being weak. Blaming yourself for the lack of strength and power. For the lack of determination. You were someone who had always given up easily. Or maybe you just came to terms with what you couldn't have. You were used to it. But this was the point of time you pitied yourself for being so utterly helpless.

“I'm not. I'm just asking you to let me go,” you retorted. You tried to stay calm and pretend that the sudden closeness didn't bother you. But it did. It almost reminded you of the time you had spent with Jungkook in high school. Except you absolutely loathed him now. Him and his annoying gang.

“And wait for you to report us to the authorities?” he pulled away, giving you room to breathe for once. “Yeah, right,” the snicker that left his lips made it very clear to you that he wasn't going to give you what you wanted.

“And what if I don't?”

“What?”

“What if I don't tell the authorities?” you asked. You were desperate at this point. Anything to get out of the hell that had dawned upon you. You were getting tired of it and you hadn't been here for even a day, nevermind trying to survive in this place. Who knew what they were going to do to you, you pondered. Surely torture you if you didn't leave soon enough.

“Maybe if you had lied to Jimin-hyung like this, he'd let you go.” You stared at him, expecting him to continue. Did he really think you were lying? “Forget that with me. You'll stay in this room from now on.”

That was when he had turned to the door and left. You, dumbfounded, stared at the door like someone had slapped you.

With a huff, you sat down down on the bed, head in hands. It was, firstly, impossible. He had basically caged you. But your heart just couldn't believe that it was him. You had always thought he was a bit of a rebel, sometimes (or most times) he was really dumb, but now he wasn't even himself anymore.

Or maybe you weren't in a position to decide that. You weren't supposed to decide who he was.

You knew he hated you just as much as you hated him. But he couldn't do that. He couldn't just cage you in a room. Eventually he'd have to let you go… right?

Or so you hoped.

Someone knocked on the door a few minutes after. You got up, limping to the door. Hesitantly, you reached out to the doorknob before deciding to ask who it was first. You doubted it was Jungkook (he wasn't one for knocking on doors) but you couldn't ever be sure.

“…who is it?” you asked meekly. You had spoken so quietly, you were weirded out that the visitor had still heard it. “It's Jin. I've bought food.”

You raised a brow, debating on whether to let him in or not. You were a mess to be honest, you'd rather he not see you. “Ah yes…” you smiled as you spoke. “I-I'll take it,” opening the door so it was slightly ajar, you extended your arm and took the plate that was offered, almost losing your grip on it in the process. Thankfully, he helped you. You brought the food in before shutting the door for good.

“Are you… okay?” you heard him ask, to which you nodded before quickly realising that he couldn't see you. “I'm perfectly fine.”

You weren't. You barely felt hungry and you were homesick.

Now that you thought about it, the only one who had a problem with you was Jungkook. Well, atleast so far. You doubted you had met all the people yet.

Taking a few bites of the dinner you had been given (which was delicious, you had to admit), you decided you weren't hungry anymore and prepared yourself for bed.

There wasn't much you could do. You had to sleep in your blouse, you supposed. Uncomfortable wasn't even the word. You couldn't sleep for most of the night. The bed even smelled faintly of cologne. When you did sleep, it was just because you had cried and grown tired of the throbbing headache you were having. To summarise, sleep didn't come to you as naturally as it had back home. And you missed it badly.

———

The next morning, you woke up to be greeted by the sunlight that was falling over your face. Turning around, you pulled the blanket over yourself so you wouldn't have to face it. It felt like only a few hours had passed since you had slept, you were still tired.

“Y/n?” someone was knocking on the door again. You didn't bother to ask who or why. You weren't in the mood. But realising that the door wasn't locked, you got up unwillingly to lock it. Atleast no one could burst in now.

The bathroom was attached to the bedroom. Taking a look in the vanity mirror, you realised that your make-up was smeared all over your face. Had you forgotten to wash it off because you were distracted by everything?

The room looked a lot friendlier than it did before. Your feet felt alot better too. You weren't limping anymore. The light that filtered through from the window did help. You were hungry. The clock hanging on the wall told you that it was eleven in the morning. You had left the dinner plate on the bed-side table, but you weren't very sure about how healthy it would be to eat it. You hadn't put it in the refridgerator or anything, after all.

Last night, you had only seen nightmares. You had wished, tossing and turning in the foreign bed, that it was all a nightmare. But it wasn't. The knocks had stopped. You wondered who it was. Maybe someone had came to wake you up? The door wasn't locked back then but you appreciated the fact they gave you space.

And again, your mind boggled over the fact that Jungkook was the only one who didn't care for your privacy. When you thought of him like that, it only made you hate him more.

Yes, you had hurt him. But that didn't mean you weren't hurt by your own decisions. You were both hurt. Maybe he had his own reasons for being like that. But did that justify anything?

You didn't know anymore. You didn't even know him anymore.

Your stomach was grumbling. You wanted to go out, eat something. But outside, it was like warzone. You were too scared to do that. Besides, it would be weird if you just went out there like a homeless person to ask for food. But you were the one who was kidnapped. It was so confusing, you weren't sure what was wrong and what was right anymore.

For one, you could not argue with your stomach. Two, it was a matter of your pride. You ended up camping in the room all day. You weren't exactly a stubborn person, but to go out there and see Jungkook's face? You could do less with that.

Jimin was the first one to approach you after you had made up your mind about not going out. “Y/n, are you awake?” his soft voice just felt like home. At least someone who was not very intimidating. The guy from last night didn't seem as bad either.

Maybe they weren't all as bad as Jungkook. Heck, who were you kidding? These guys were thieves, maybe even murderers, and you wouldn't be surprised if they were.

“I am,” you were mad at yourself for replying, but you just had to answer it. You couldn't leave him in the dark, not the sweet person that Jimin was. “Oh yeah? Could you open the door? I'm here with breakfast,” you sighed as you heard it. “Jimin... I'm not opening the door,” you answered, resolute. For a moment, Jimin didn't speak anything. You thought he had left, given up. But he hadn't. “Hoseok-hyung came to wake you up. We're really worried for you, you know?” you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Worried? They were the ones who had kidnapped you. And as if that wasn't enough, they had left you with their crazy gang member that you, unfortunately, knew.

“If you were ever worried, you wouldn't have left me with Jungkook!” you frowned as you exclaimed. Jimin's response was silence once again. “Did he do anything?” he did alot, if you were to be honest, but you didn't know where to begin.

You weren't going to ask Jimin to listen to you ramble but you were so sick of the things that took place last night, that you couldn't help it. “He says I can't leave.” But Jimin's response wasn't what you expected. “Yeah... you can't leave.”

The words broke your heart. You thought you could be honest with him. But that wasn't the case, it seemed. You thought he'd understand you, he'd comfort you but that wasn't what happened. You told him to leave immediately, barely surpressing your anger.

The whole day, your door was being knocked on. You did nothing much while the guys tried to persuade you into coming out or eating something. You knew all of them by now. You'd hear them call for you and tell their names if they hadn't introduced themselves to you before. One of them sounded awfully alot like the guy you had met at the bank, the one that your co-leagues thought was hitting on you. They'd tell you to eat and that they were concerned. None of it helped you through the boredom you faced whilst trying to remain inside. You slept for most of the time, checked around the closet here and there, which was empty. You debated on whether to shower, but you didn't have any clothes. You finally managed to check the drawers, and ended up finding nothing but some old pictures

Pictures that had you in them. Or well, in some. Most were pictures of Jungkook's high school friends. You knew them quite well. You wondered if he was still in contact with them. But who'd want to be near a thief?

It was dinner time by when Jungkook dropped by. It was his first time since last night. All the other guys had came except for him. You weren't going to lie, you didn't think he'd actually say that he was concerned. But he did.

“Y/n, open the door. I...” you heard him sigh heavily. “We are all worried for you. I brought dinner,” dinner did sound really good. You were starving yourself the whole day. You didn't know why but you just had to, apparently. You couldn't go out. You couldn't talk to anyone. You were irritated. But then it was a matter of seconds before you realised that you were in this cage, in hell just because of Jungkook, once again. And that made it all the worse.

You hoped he felt guilty as hell. You hoped he would regret whatever he had said the other night, because he deserved it. All of it.

While you should not have been stubborn because of the situation (you could get killed for all you knew), you were being ill-treated and you had all the rights to do this. “Leave.”

You told the same thing you had to everyone else. But somehow it hurt a lot more than the others. Maybe it was because you had known him. “I'll... I'll leave you the food?” you didn't reply. But when you did open the door, you were greeted by the food tray.

You couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Taking the tray inside, you noticed the piece of paper next to a bowl. ‘- Bangtan,’ it read. The name was familiar and you immediately recognised it.

You were not only kidnapped by thieves. You were kidnapped by an infamous gang known around the entire country.

———

The dinner was, just like the other night, delicious. In fact, you had ate it all and still had room for more. But it was enough to satisfy you for the night.

Tossing and turning in your sleep, it felt harder to sleep than the other night. You couldn't sleep. Whenever you closed your eyes and let slumber take over, it would take less than twenty minutes to wake up again. The blanket felt too hot, and just laying there without it uncomfortable.

Getting up even though you didn't want to, you walked to the window. Leaning against it, you wished you could open it to breath in the fresh air. Inside the room, even though it was spacious, it felt like you were being suffocated. You had studied each and every inch of it in the last twelve hours or so.

The voice you heard woke you up completely. Your brain blanked out for a moment. You couldn't understand what you had heard. It sounded like a person, but who'd be speaking at this time? And so loudly too? Or was it just loud to you because it felt like it came from just outside the door?

You switched on the lights to see that it was two in the morning. You were getting goosebumps from all the scary encounters you had been having. Taking a deep, uneven breath, you opened the door, hoping this wasn't just a prank. Because you were actually worried by the mumbles and whimpers now.

It was Jungkook.

For a second, you thought he was going to turn around because his back was turned to you in the hallway. Was this an early Halloween trick or something? But he didn't play tricks. Or so you thought — he'd changed, had he not?

There was no one in the hallway except for himself, and now you. It was dark, barely any light present except for that one dull lamp that was on one end of the corridor. The doors were closed. You supposed the others were sleeping.

But it wasn't the fact that he was alone that surprised you. It was the tone of his voice. Jungkook sounded so… vulnerable. You hadn't heard him like that. Not very much, atleast. One time you could remember was the day you had broken up. Ever since you reunited, you hadn't heard him like that. He was harsh and mean. Or that's how you picked up on it, anyway.

Vulnerable wasn't even the word. He was walking to the other, dark end of the corridor, towards the wall. You saw nothing there except for a painting that you couldn't make out exactly due to the darkness. He was awake, he had to be. He never told you about sleep-walking.

Then you heard it again. His soft voice, the one you remember hearing everyday at high school. And you could hear the words he spoke. “Mom?” it was only thanks to the quietness of the place that you heard it. To any other person, it would have sounded like he was going crazy.

Maybe he was. Maybe you were too, because in the next moment, you were running to him.

“Jungkook?” you called, hoping he could hear you. You didn't want to step too close. You were still a little scared of him. Of him and the danger he posed. “Do you like her too, Y/n?” he asked. It wasn't cold or distant at all. It sounded like his old self, almost. Except maybe if he was a little lost.

“What, Jungkook?” you asked back, growing more hesitant by the second. You felt awkward. Awkward but closer to Jungkook. And maybe it was worth it. Your heart just fluttered hearing him like that. The voice of the person you fell in love with. Maybe you hadn't moved on as much as had thought. Or maybe it was because he sounded so exceptionally sweet.

“My mother, Y/n. You've met her before, do you like her?” you did. You liked her alot. She was just as sweet as Jungkook himself. “I do, but why—?”

“Why?” the tone turned hushed.

“Because she's nice…?”

“She's not nice!” the exclamation shook you. It wavered through the hall, and you were surprised no one was awoke yet. The shout made you tremble. You looked at him while he still stared towards the wall, before hastily turning to look everywhere. Where could you turn the lights on? What was he talking about?

“Jungkook, stop!” you put your arms around his waist before you saw the outline of his body charge towards the wall. Your breathing was jagged, your mind wasn't working anymore. You looked around desperately. Every nerve in your body was close to exploding. You didn't even know what he was talking about. A little part of you wondered what was wrong with him, if this was a prank, a joke.

You tried to hold him back, but his strength made you cling onto him. Why were you doing this for the guy who had you kidnapped? You didn't know. You didn't know anything. Whatever was the past, it would stay there. For now, you were pleading yourself to be good to him just because he was another human being.

And that's exactly what you needed to know. He was just another human being. Human being affected by the circumstances of life. And that's all it took for you pull him back. “Jungkook…” you whispered, your heart beating against your chest. For once, you were willing to let go of whatever he had done in the past two days.

He eventually gave up in your arms. You felt him relax in your embrace. You were still shaking, breathing heavily, body tense. You knocked on the door that was closest to you, all while making sure Jungkook was okay. You made him sit against the wall while you knocked on the door, hoping someone would open it.

Sweat dripped down his forehead. Even in the darkness, his face was shining. His lips were parted ever so slightly, and he was taking shallow breaths. Your mind still couldn't adjust to whatever had took place. Why did he see his mother? You knew he didn't like her very much, but the question that you wanted to ask most was if he was okay. If he had ever had these before.

It took a few more knocks for Hoseok to come out. The same guy who had told you that hope died last. You sure hoped it did. He switched on the lights and gathered all the others. You were right about your guess with the guy with the deep voice. He was Taehyung, the one who had came to the bank first. He never mentioned it to you at your doorstep, but of course, everything was just one big plan. It all made sense to you now. Jin was the one who took Jungkook to his new bedroom (which was just across from yours) and you were taken to your room by Jimin.

“…are you okay?" Jimin started, after a while had passed since you sat down on the bed. You weren't even sure of what you had witnessed. "Is Jungkook okay?” you asked back, brows furrowing. Jimin sighed, nodding. “He'll be fine,” he didn't look like it. You weren't even sure why you were worried.

“What's up with him? Does it happen often?” Jimin bit his bottom lip as you asked. He shook his head. “You deserve to know.”

“Know what?”

“His condition.” You held your breath, body tense. You didn't want to hear it now. You regretted being curious instantly. “What is it?” you asked in a whisper, as if granting him the ability to speak again. “He's suffering from manic-depression,” your heart dropped. “You were brought here because… while you were on the no-harm list, we just usually let those people go. We don't actually… take them hostage or anything.”

You looked down at the bed sheet, white as it was, it reminded you of the restless nights Jungkook would've been through. “We took you because we knew you were special to him or else he wouldn't have put you on the list. And if you could somehow help him with his illness, then it was worth it.” A sickening feeling enveloped you as you heard the story. Did it mean that Jungkook didn't have you kidnapped? And all this time you were blaming him for something he didn't do. You felt a little angry at yourself. Why did he put up with all of that, it made you feel like a mess. “What... else?”

“Namjoon-hyung was the one who started Bangtan — our gang — and he was the one who asked the others to join. We were only told that he saw Jungkook getting mugged outside a convenience store. He defended himself. And it had Hyung impressed so he joined,” Jimin took a deep breath, pausing. So your suspicions were correct. They were the mafia you had heard of. A little part of you looked down on Jungkook for joining such a gang, but in the current situation, it was insensitive.

“Why did Jungkook join you guys?” your brows furrowed. You were angry at him. Maybe you shouldn't have been, but he joined such cruel people. For what? “I thought he wanted to start his business… and work on more nicer things than—” Jimin's cold gaze stopped you from going further. “We do it to survive,” Jimin retorted. He was angry and you knew it.

“But Jungkook was happy with his life,” you said back. You know that you shouldn't talk about who's right or wrong because the current priority was Jungkook's health, but you were convinced that his current condition was a result of him joining this team of his, and you weren't willing to let go.

“Who are you to him?” Jimin asked. You sighed. “You could say I'm his ex-girlfriend.” Silence. “From high school. I had to move away so we broke up,” you explained, finding the quiet atmosphere uncomfortable. Jimin slowly nodded, thinking over everything.

“Right… Jungkook doesn't talk of his personal life very much,” he spoke. “He considers us brothers, but it seems like whatever we do just isn't enough to… satisfy him, to stop his episodes.”

You knew Jimin himself had a hard time explaining it. And it did hurt you too, to think that the boy you once knew and loved was suffering so much. It pulled at your heartstrings, even. You were hurt. “Jin-hyung is experienced with medicine. He helps Jungkook, but we can't actually go to a psychiatrist. We went once, when our group wasn't as infamous. We almost let our identities slip. We can't risk doing that again, not now that we are… so big on the news, you know?”

Heaving a heavy sigh, you nodded. Some logical side to you was disappointed now that you were working with criminals. But maybe surviving was everything. They must have gone through something, all of them, something so bad that led them to here. Maybe Jungkook went through something too? Maybe regarding his mother.

“So you don't know what's causing this condition?” you asked, and Jimin shook his head in response. “Jungkook doesn't want to tell us about his past. Not even about where his home is. He's happy most of the time, but I…” you looked at him expectantly, wanting him to continue. “I hear him crying most of the nights.”

“What?” you blurted out. “Yeah... I was going to wake up Jin-hyung to make me something to eat once. And I heard him crying. Then I went out each night. I heard him crying at late hours most of the time. I could hear him say things, but I couldn't understand what. And then he started to hallucinate too, at times.”

You felt a surge of empathy for Jungkook. You felt like crying for him. Maybe he hadn't been the best to you. But maybe he was just scarred. Perhaps he was lonely. Maybe he missed his mother. “But don't worry!” how could you not? It hurt you that he was hurt. “Now that you're here… maybe you can help him?”

“He hates me.”

“Why?”

“I broke up with him but he didn't want to... but I had to move away. I can't stand long-distance relationships. I think he feels like I didn't actually love him,” you said. But you did love him. You loved him alot. “It's never too late to fix anything,” Jimin gave you a small smile. You tried to return it, but your mind was too clogged for you to actually smile. But maybe it was never too late to fix something.

Maybe you could still save whatever you had. Just maybe.

—

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missmentelle · 5 years

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I got married at 16. My husband was 18. We are from the deep south and we got married because I ended up pregnant. He just seems angry all the time now. Whenever I panic or get anxiety, he starts yelling at me, giving me the silent treatment and interrupting me when I try to speak. I asked him yesterday to please take me to behavioral health and he refused. He kept asking "why" and couldn't he be the one to fix it. He'll say I'm unwell then when I try to fix it he gets mad. Is this gaslighting?

Hey sorry its the girl who got married at 16 again. I forgot to mention that this has happened a lot to me with him. He’ll make me think I’m crazy and unstable. The situation from yesterday, we were in the car driving back home and out of nowhere, I started silently crying and couldn’t regulate my breathing. My thoughts wouldn’t stop racing. That’s when he got mad. Every time I try to get help he says, “all they’ll do is give you pills. It won’t do anything.” I feel lost and idk what to do.

This is a lot of things, and none of them are good. There are a lot of red flags here that point to this being an unhealthy or abusive relationship - for the sake of education, let’s just go through and tally them all up individually:

You got married very young. I’m not saying that all young marriages are automatically abusive, but you are certainly much greater risk of ending up in an abusive relationship when you are younger. At sixteen, you don’t have a lot of life experience, you are still very naive (it’s not a bad thing, it’s just a natural part of only having been alive for sixteen years), you are likely very insecure, you don’t know who you are yet, you aren’t financially independent, and you are used to following the authority of others. People can definitely get into abusive relationships at any age, but you are much more vulnerable in your mid-teens than you are in your mid-thirties.

You were rushed into marriage before you were ready. Again, not all couples who marry early in their relationship are abusive, but the fact that you were rushed into a marriage you probably weren’t ready for due to social pressure is a big red flag. I don’t know you and your husband personally, and I don’t know everything about your circumstances, but this situation creates a big possibility of resentment arising. Your husband may feel trapped or angry about the situation, and may dump all of that anger and resentment and blame on you.

There are anger issues present. Anger issues are always a bad sign in a relationship. You should never have to live in fear of your spouse’s wrath. That’s a miserable way to live, especially because you never know when your spouse’s anger may escalate to physical violence.

He responds to your mental illness with anger and emotional abuse. When a spouse is upset or struggling or in pain, a normal person tries to comfort and calm them. Getting angry and yelling at them is not an acceptable response. Likewise, withdrawing from you entirely is emotional manipulation - he is punishing you for having feelings, and that’s not okay. He doesn’t respect your intelligence enough to let you make your own medical decisions or even finish your sentences before he starts speaking over you. All of this points to him being incredibly controlling; when you start having feelings or thoughts that he doesn’t approve of, he lashes out and does whatever he has to do to punish you for straying from his control.

He absolutely gaslights you. “Gaslighting” is rapidly becoming an overused term, but this absolutely fits the definition to a tee. Emphasizing how sick and mentally ill someone is while simultaneously denying that they are sick enough to need a doctor is textbook gaslighting. It sounds like you’re always going to be the exact amount of sick that’s convenient for him - when you want to make a decision that goes against him, he’s going to suddenly tell you that you’re much, much too sick to be making that decision and you don’t know what you’re saying, but if you try to get actual help, your issues are suddenly going to be so minor that you just need a nap. Healthy partners emphasize their partner’s strengths, not their weaknesses.

He is actively preventing you from getting the help you need. This is probably the most alarming one of all, to be honest. Your symptoms are quite serious, and it’s clear that you do need to have the checked out, but he is actively preventing that from happening. When someone tells their spouse to drive them to the hospital, the response should be “I’ll go start the car”, not “No, I can fix you myself”. Again, this points to control - in a psychiatric hospital you will be completely beyond his control, and worse yet, if the staff catch a whiff of what your relationship is like, they will identify the abuse and try to help you leave. He doesn’t want that, and he doesn’t actually want you to get better - he wants you at home, sick and vulnerable, so you won’t go anywhere. At this point, he is putting you in physical and psychological danger by not letting you get help.

I think there are two big things you need to do from here: you need to find a way to start getting mental health treatment, and you need to decide if this is a relationship that you want to stay in for the rest of your life. Both of those things may be a very long process, and I don’t expect things to change overnight. I will say that trying to manage a mental health condition while you’re still in an unhealthy relationship can be a bit like trying to get the smoke smell out of your curtains while your house is still actively on fire. That doesn’t mean that therapy is useless - it means that any therapy you get will probably have to focus on help you get a good perspective on your relationship and find the strength to leave the situation before you can start addressing the other mental health problems.

Talk to other survivors of abusive relationships, or at least read their stories - you can find all kinds of Facebook groups, subreddits, Tumblr hashtags and forums dedicated to this. See if anything resonates with you. Read up on unhealthy relationships. If you can, read Why Does He Do That by Lundy Bancroft - you can find a free PDF of the book by clicking that link. See if you can get someone else in your life to take you to the Behavioural Health Unit, or ask to speak to your doctor privately the next time you have an appointment. Reach out to a domestic violence hotline or organization for information. Gather whatever information you need to gather, take whatever steps you need to take. But know that your relationship is not healthy, and you deserve better. Best of luck to you Miss Mentelle

#AnsweredByMM

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toughguywithbossygirlfriend · 5 years

Text

WonderBat vs BatCat: BatCat romance is “Timeless”or “80 years old”. Is that really the Truth ? which one is older ?

Lately I had to read again some comments about BacCat being the better ship because of how “Old” a romance it was. But when did BatCat really start to take a real romantic turn compared to the first WonderBat references ? If we check out the old comics from “Batman #1″ back in 1940, is BatCat really the winner ? or is there another truth ?

I definitively cannot ignore the chemistry DC tries to put into BatCat till the 80′s even if I’d prefer WonderBat. But to make that romance acceptable they had to change Catwoman into a Hero first, or at least an Anti-Hero. Strong changes similar to that time where Catwoman had been Brainwashed to become a Hero by Zatanna and the JL.

(The following is from DC Comics “JLA (1997)” - Issue 119)

MM:“A friend ?” - BM:“An Ally of sorts ...I thought she’d changed. but ... maybe it wasn’t her choice.”

Batman had his suspicions so there was never a lot of room for Love but with Selina on the “Good” side it was at least a possibility. This follows all the WonderBat stuff of the JLA’s “obsidian age” and “#90″ of course, so Batman’s heart is rather set on Diana then Selina. As a matter of fact it turns out Bats was right about Zatanna’s mind manipulation.

(The following is from DC Comics “Catwoman (2002)” - Issue 50)

Selina’s evolution from “Evil” to “Good”, isn’t a first and has been rebooted several times. The fact that it wasn’t her choice isn’t a first either. But how do we end up with the “belief” that BatCat is an “Old” story ? maybe even “80 years old” ?... Superman and Lois ? Yes no doubt... but Batman and Catwoman ? ... Not really

The “New 52″ with the disastrous SuperWonder pairing surely contributed to the illusion of a longer BatCat history. It just send 70 real years of “Lois and Clark” into the trash-bin just as it did to the slowly (but steadily growing) “Wonder woman/Batman” background romance. This helped to erase in the younger generation’s minds what had been slowly build up other several decades.

After the “New 52″ it wasn’t really possible to return to pre-flashpoint status ... DC had first to try to repair the damage done to the trinity and to the duo of the World’s Finest... You don’t do

After the “New 52″, I guess DC surely considered that the best way to heal the Trinity’s awkwardness from the SuperWonder “Injustice smell” was to first avoid any relationship within the Trinity and later (as it didn’t work) to erase SuperWonder from continuity, so ... back to : Lois and Clark, Wonder Woman and Trevor, ... Batman and ? ... yeah who? ... Bats had a lot of love interests over the last 80 years ..

Selina was surely one of the numerous candidates and as long as they didn’t restart her “Evil” in DC Rebirth she could even become a good and “spicy” choice. So they didn’t ... this time she was “Good” from the start : In jail but actually taking responsibility for crimes she didn’t commit and facing lethal injection only to protect a friend. A real Hero, Selflessness and Compassion raised to Diana’s level. Better fighting abilities than Talia and the stubbornness needed to stand the ground in front of Batman. DC boosted Diana’s power level to match Superman’s (to fit the needs of “SuperWonder”) and changed her from a magically animated clay figure (”less than human” just like Deilan and thus dreaming to become human) into the daughter of Zeus (who doesn’t really have any reason to lower herself to human status). I think DC doesn’t really know how, or lacks the courage of, to power Diana down again into something more suitable for a human World (Batman’s World) without enraging a legion of hardcore Feminists who need her to be equal with “the most powerful male Hero”... Catwoman, on the other hand, has been given most of Diana’s qualities and switched from “Evil” to “Good”...

Tom King surely did a great job at helping to model Selina for that romance and showed a great skill at fooling the younger readers about BatCat’s real history by “hand picking” just the right pictures out of old comics ... an impressive Work.

For example in DC Rebirth’s Batman (2016) #44 you get the false impression Batman is taking care of Selina’s hurting ankle ...

While in the real comic, back in 1940, he was just removing the bandage to check out for a precious stolen necklace ... nothing romantic there.

But the next references were not more accurate either as you will see it ...

Every sentence is just copied ... but the real comic tried to picture Selina Kyle/Catwoman as having two very different personalities ... some kind of schizophrenic heavy mental illness revealed through a memory loss.

With this Issue we have already gone from 1940 to January 1951 and to consider any romance in these early comics you’d have to ignore all the sweet pet names used to describe Catwoman : the Arch-enemy, the Princess of Plunder, the Queen of Crime, Batman’s Feline Foe and so on ... Nonetheless this is the first “Evil” to “Good” switch I know of ... Batman’s romantic interest from that time was more Vicky Vale, than Selina.

In this other “Pick Up” from “Detective Comics #203″ (January 1954), Selina reverts from “Good” to “Evil” just after he warned her of the consequences of resuming her past criminal life

... and she didn’t need any “hit to the head” this time ... was she faking her “Goodness” ? or is she just ready for Arkam’s Asylum ? ...

The next one in Batman (2016) #44 ? ... same deception again ...

As we can see, in the original comic, Batman answers Selina’s question even under the Torture with a “No” to both “Bride” and “Burglar” ... Selina was really a self delusional crazy chick back then, more like a female version of the Joker rather than a real romantic interest and it didn’t get any better in the following years.

I wouldn’t be surprised if Selina’s dominant stance in Batman #44 was a parallel to Diana’s Epic stance in Hiketeia ... of course you never really “dominate” Batman, just like he is never your “captive”, unless he wants you to believe you won.

Wonder Woman was always the perfect complement to Batman. “Wonder Woman was made to Protect the Innocent, and Batman to Punish the Guilty”. Without either of them there is No Justice. That’s why they work so well together ... So you just copy from Diana to Selina the things you can and worked for WonderBat.

Anyway no consistent BatCat until “Batman (1940) Issue 308″ during February 1979 ... a new evolution from “Evil” to “Good” starts with that Issue and a kiss in November 1979 ... but this time things are different, very different, Selina really wants too turn her back on her crime life ... the road is still long and bumpy but it is a start for a real romance. It is interesting to note that the current Rebirth “Wedding” arc with the Dark Knight enabled the starting of a new “Catwoman (2018)” series,just like the 80′s romance enabled Catwoman her own start. For a time the 80′s “Catwoman” series shared the “Batman(1940)” comic series with Bats. Later she got her own solo comic..

Now if you consider Batman and Wonder Woman’s first kiss of love:

Considering Wonder Woman is a rather serious Girl and that she already “Heroed” for several years side by side with Batman. If you consider that the owner of the Lasso of truth won’t lie if she says that she really did fall in love with Batman. Plus, two years later (1970) “Diana Prince” encountered billionaire “Bruce Wayne” and agreed to a Date with him ignoring he was Batman. Later again in 1978, Diana and Bruce know each others double identities and agree on a “Late night diner” ... We may consider that this kiss was the starting point of a complicated (secret identities and all) slowly growing romantic relationship between the two.

So a WonderBat romance started at least over a decade before any real BatCat romance.

I bet you didn't expect that ! ... You don’t have to believe me. Just check out the old comics for real ... and make your own opinion once you’ve read them.

Keep in mind that this doesn't really deny anything to the current Batman/Catwoman romance because DC Rebirth’s Selina Kyle is very different from the crazy Psycho of the old comics. Nonetheless, I wouldn’t use its Age as an Argument. You can surely find a lot of other reasons to love them. And of course, Bruce and Diana had both earlier Love interests, but this wasn’t the point of this Post.

This Post only goes thru the Batman (1940) series meaning i didn’t check out every comic series. But I had once a heated exchange about the “80 years old” theory with a Hardcore BatCat shipper whom I told to check out for himself the old comics. I know he checked out all 400 first “Batman” and “Detective Comics” Issues but he never got back to me to prove me wrong ... so I guess that he didn’t find anything useful either.

Hereafter you have a partial list of the early “Batman” comics Issues up to the time of the WonderBat kiss in 1968, with the names of notable or recurring females found in them, often being Batman’s real love interests. I didn’t mention the Issues if they had no interesting females in it.

Issue#1: Catwoman tries to seduce and bribe him, doesn't work, she flees and he lets her ! ;

Issue#2: the crime Cat flees again;

Issue#3: Cat's usual M.O. kiss (first) to flee, she wishes she could hook up with Bats;

Issue#5:Quennie kisses Bats and dies

Issue#6:Linda Page

Issue#7:Linda Page

Issue#9:Linda Page

Issue#10:Cat roots for Bats, another kiss and flee ...

Issue#11:Canary kisses Bats and leaves

Issue#15:Bruce Wayne is in love with Linda Page but still "proposes" to the "Arch ennemy" Catwoman and gets "engaged" with her ... Now that's funny, so it would'nt be a first ? thinking about Batman(2016) #39-#40 ...this time its Jail for the Cat

Issue#22:Cat goes to Jail again after flirting with Alfred ...

Issue#26:Future Bruce Wayne and Lora Hall

Issue#35:Catwoman tries to gun down Bats

Issue#39:Cat fights Bats then saves him, tries to seduce and bribe him again but goes to jail again ... nothing new...

Issue#42:Cat goes to Jail again

Issue#45:Cat tries to kill Bats and goes to Jail

Issue#47: a disguised Cat gets to kiss Bats, then ... Jail

Issue#49:Vicky Vale

Issue#50:Vicky Vale

Issue#52:Vicky Vale

Issue#56: Vicky Vale

Issue#61: Vicky Vale

Issue#62: Cat becomes amnesic and fights on the good side.

Issue#64: Vicky Vale

Issue#65: Amnesic Selina remains good but no romance

Issue#69: Amnesic Selina has a Brother no romance

Issue#79: Vicky Vale and Batman fake an engagement/wedding

... No Cat ... But during "Detective Comics"#203" Cat turns evil again without any head injury ...

Issue#81: Vicky Vale

Issue#84: Cat goes to Jail again

Issue#85: Vicky Vale

Issue#87: Vicky Vale gets jealous over the kiss Batman shares with Magda Luvescu

Issue#92: Susie Smith

Issue#98: Vicky Vale

Issue#105: Kathy Kane as Batwoman will become a rather constant love interest in the following years (This one is neither lesbian nor Bruce Wayne's cousin and later her niece Betty is gonna be the first BatGirl and fall for Dick Grayson’ Robin)

Issue#110: Vicky Vale

Issue#111: Vicky Vale

Issue#115: Susie Smith ?

Issue#116: Kathy Kane

Issue#119: Kathy Kane and Vicky Vale

Issue#122: The Wedding of Kathy Kane and Bruce Wayne ... ;)

Issue#125: Kathy Kane

Issue#126: Kathy Kane

Issue#128: Kathy Kane

Issue#129: Kathy Kane

Issue#131: Kathy Kane and Bruce Wayne married again ... ;)

Issue#133: Kathy Kane

Issue#135: Kathy Kane and Bruce Wayne married again ... ;)

Issue#139: Kathy Kane with her niece Betty (as BatGirl)

Issue#140: Kathy Kane

Issue#141: Kathy Kane with her niece Betty (as BatGirl)

Issue#144: Betty (as BatGirl) and Robin ... with Bruce and Kathy.

Issue#145: Kathy Kane and Bruce Wayne married again ... ;)

Issue#147: Kathy Kane

Issue#150: Kathy Kane vs "Elise"

Issue#151: Kathy Kane

Issue#154: Kathy Kane with her niece Betty (as BatGirl)

Issue#157: Kathy Kane and Vicky Vale

Issue#159: Kathy Kane and Bruce Wayne married again ... ;)

Issue#162: Kathy Kane

Issue#163: Kathy Kane and Bruce Wayne married again ... ;)

Issue#165: Patricia Powell

Issue#166: Patricia Powell

Issue#168: Kaye Daye

Issue#176: Cat goes to Jail again

Issue#181 : Poison Ivy and Kaye Daye

Issue#183 : Poison Ivy

Issue#184 : Viola Lance but it was rather Robin’s Interest

Issue#185 : Vera Lovely but again Robin’ Love Interest

Issue#187 : Vicky Vale and “the Sparrow” as Joker’s ennemy ?

Issue#193 : Vicky Vale

Issue#194 : Kaye Daye

Issue#197 (Dec 1967) : Batgirl (Barbara Gordon) and Catwoman fight for Batman but Batgirl isn’t in love with Batman - Containing the “Bride or Burglar” reference used in Batman#44 - Selina thinks she is in love and that you can torture a man into loving her (like I said a crazy psycho)

Issue#198 (Jan-Feb 1968) : Catwoman (still a crazy psycho in love who thinks that hurting him and Robin is the best way to charm Batman ) and Batwoman (Kathy Kane)

1968 : Batman and Wonder Woman first kiss (that I know of) - During that Issue of “the Brave and the Bold”, both Wonder Woman and Batgirl fall in love with Batman. Diana kisses him but it won’t be really revealed, or denied, if Batman had feelings other than Friendship for either one of the Women. But Batman was always kind of good at hiding his feelings for Diana. Based on later evolutions of their relationship, we can only imagine this must have been the beginning of a longtime slow-burner between the two.

I leave it to you to discover the rest for yourself ...

#Wonder woman #Diana Prince #batman #bruce wayne #wonderbat

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diego-hargreeve2 · 5 years

Text

light in the dark

Part Two

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy (Netflix)

Ship: Diego Hargreeves x Original Character

Warnings: Language, abuse (emotional and physical), mental illness, violence and, in later chapters, smut.

If asked – although that was a rare occurrence – Diego made it clear he was out working the city at night to get rid of scum and save lives - in that order. He wasn’t here to take care of people, he wasn’t looking for responsibility, he was just cleaning up the streets.

And if he had been looking to save somebody, logic surely suggested he start with his family - although he was pretty sure they didn’t need it. Luther was a big boy who could take care of himself, Allison had spread enough of her rumours to craft a perfect life, Klaus frankly didn’t seem to want any help or intervention and Vanya had cut ties with her nasty little novel. He should be glad for all this, not having the burden of his siblings and their bickering, and he certainly was sure he hadn't been looking for a replacement sibling to take on as a responsibility.

So he wasn't sure why he found himself returning to the shelter the next night to check on Eve. Sat in the car, staring at the building, one hand flipping a knife back and forth by the handle - the motion so easy to him that it was clear how often he did this, how regular a habit it was - as he considered.

It was one thing to have met her randomly and helped her out. Another to go inside and ask for her. Even knowing this he got out the car and walked up to the door, sheathing the dagger as he rapped at the wood with gloved knuckles.

Eve was surprised to be asked for, one of the volunteers sticking their head around her door but when she found out her visitor she wasn't sorry, and offered a smile - far more of a greeting than Diego managed, as he merely inclined his head slightly.

"Figured I'd come check on you. Make sure you're ok" he said, affecting a lack of concern.

Eve wasn't great at people skills and subtle cues, but even she could guess that if he was as tough and uncaring as his exterior had tried to project yesterday he wouldn't have returned. He hadn't been looking for the Others, he wasn't excited to meet her - but he didn't, after one meeting, hate her. That felt like some step forward in this city, something that could even be built into a friendship. She could hardly answer his question in a negative though.

"Sure. They've been kind, it's nice here" Eve told him. That wasn't a lie - the place was clean and didn't try to shove religion down the throats of those who sought refuge under its roof. There had been worse places she had stayed. Good manners and convention meant she could hardly say otherwise in earshot of those who worked here though. In truth, not even just manners. Eve had been thrown out of places before for the crime of offering even constructive criticism.

Realising the reason for her reticence, Diego nodded toward the door. "Coffee?"

"Sure," she said, breaking into a sunny smile that revealed her overbite. Turning he grabbed the door, partly because his Mom didn't raise him to be rude and partly because he did not need his image being ruined by it becoming apparent that he, like just about anyone else, would look pleased at such a positive reaction.

Leading the way to his car (Eudora told him it could hardly be counted as a car, more rust on wheels, but the old girl worked just fine in his opinion) he threw open the passenger door before heading around and jumping in the driver's side.

The silence after the doors closed was awkward, and Eve slid her hands under her thighs to stop herself fidgeting, sat on her fingers so they couldn't betray her. This city wasn't her home, but wandering its streets meant she had a fairly good idea of its layout, and she watched out the window for the journey so she could be certain of her way back...just in case.

"Here. They make good pancakes" Diego offered when he pulled over and Eve glanced at him curiously before climbing out. He hadn't seemed like a pancakes kind of person to her.

"So, the place is ok?" he double checked as they slid into a booth opposite each other.

"Yeah, y'know, it's fine. As these places go" Eve added, shrugging. Shelters are a godsend in many ways, but at the same time experience taught her they were often poor, struggling to make ends meet, and plagued by people who were less than grateful. Anyone expecting five-star luxury would be horrified by the bunk beds, sparse furnishing, peeling lino and worn cushions but Eve knew it could be worse.

"As they go - you've spent a lot of time in homeless shelters?" he asked with a frown.

"I've stayed a few. So long as they don't shove their faith down my throat I count it as a win".

He chuckled at her words. The waitress halted the conversation for a moment to take their order, but as she walked away he glanced at Eve - once again sat on her hands and now staring at the formica tabletop - and asked, "Not a fan of religion?"

"...No". Not anymore.

"Just no?"

Eve sighed. Religion was always a touchy subject that could get people heated, but for her, it was more than that. It was complicated.

"That's a big question to ask somebody you just met," she said, shifting the topic and lifting her chin enough to meet his gaze. Diego didn't deny it, but he wasn't abashed by her feeble attempt at confronting him.

"You said you read my sister's book. That means you know plenty about me. I'd say questions like that just level the playing field".

"I don't know you though", Eve protested. "The book...I know what Vanya thinks of your upbringing and who you used to be. You left home at like, what, seventeen? So even if that was accurate, it's ten years old. People change. And as well...you can grow up in the same place, the same family, as somebody else and it's still completely different for you. The book - even the parts about you - are her opinion - right?"

Something in that statement worked. Eve wasn't sure exactly what she got right, but she could see the way he sat back in the booth, his shoulders relaxing a little and his face softening that it got through somehow. That for once she wasn't just a rambling idiot but had made sense and a connection.

"Right" he admitted, almost unwillingly despite the way his stance had shifted. "You still know more about me than I know about you though. If you came here to find people who 'get it'" - hands still resting on the tabletop but fingers lifting to offer loose, lazy quotation marks - "You're gonna have to tell me something kid".

"We're the same age". Literally the exact same age, she could have added but he just chuckled. Shaking her head slightly, enough that her hair fell forward from behind her ears and screened her face, she sighed and asked: "What do you want to know?"

"Where you from?"

"Idaho" Eve admitted. "A backwoods little town you'll never have heard of". Not a lie after all.

"But you'd never heard of us?" Diego seemed slightly incredulous at that, that the fame of the Umbrella Academy hadn't spread so far as to reach on her childhood.

"My family didn't allow television. Or magazines. Or radio for anyone but the...Father" she winced even as the sentence left her, the syntax all wrong and far too revealing. In her attempt to hide it - impossible, his eyes were already on her and brightened with interest - she attempted a joke. "Sorry to break it to you that your fame hasn't made you a household name all over". Not a good joke and neither of them laughed.

Pulling out a small knife from his sleeve, intrigued and yet even as brash as he was knowing the conversation had touched something she didn't want to talk about, he tapped it against the tabletop to focus himself. Fiddling, rolling the handle along with his palm, he skirted the subject very slightly. "But they knew about the other births right - that was like. International".

"Where I grew up is very isolated", the words spoken with so carefully they might have been glass. "They don't approve of contact with the Outside World so...no. They didn't know that I wasn't the only weird birth. There's lots they don't know"

"Sounds like a fucking cult".

"Pretty much". That made it sound as dull as she could imagine, and yet it still seemed to intrigue him very slightly. Looking away from her, watching the diner overhead lights in the dull steel of his knife as he toyed with it, Diego decided to give her...well, something.

"I can get that. Our Dad named us numbers after all". Eve's tone as she referred to her past was low, quiet, almost monotone and carefully calm. Diego, on the other hand, hid none of the scorn and underlying anger as he mentioned the man who adopted him.

Watching him, her expression soft and sad with understanding, meant that as he glanced over their eyes met - and there was something there. A connection of sorts, recognition enough, and Eve smiled without intending to. It was barely a beginning but a beginning it was. It was interrupted however by the arrival of black coffee and a plate piled high with bacon and pancakes.

“You’re gonna eat all that?” Eve asked, the words stunned and slipping out before she thought them through. If she had offended him, he hid it well, tucking the knife away and reaching for a fork.

“It’s hard work doing what I do” he told her.

“What is it you do?” Eve asked, genuinely curious as she slid her fingers around the coffee mug – an action most people did to keep warm, although it made no difference for her.

“You saw last night. I beat up shitbags. And box” he added almost as an afterthought before he began shovelling food into his mouth. She considered this answer for a moment, staring into her cup as though explanations floated on the dark surface.

“Why?” she asked, when her coffee proffered no understanding.

“Why not? The city’s going to hell. It’s full of bastards. I do some good. Actual good, not getting wrapped up in red tape and bullshit”.

Again, she studied her coffee before speaking. “It must be nice. To make a difference”. The look he threw her way revealed that for a moment he thought she was joking, mocking him like just about everyone did about his vigilante activities. There was nothing teasing in her expression, no biting edge to her tone, just honesty – and that warmed him a little, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is”.

I changed the title but I kept writing. I hope that people enjoy.

@lovinglydiego

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves imagine #diego hargreeves fanfic #the umbrella academy fanfic #light in the dark

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kachuwritings · 6 years

Text

[Trigger Warning] NCT 127 reaction to their s/o having an eating disorder

anonymous asked: Hey.. can you do the eating disorder one with nct 127 also? 🙈

This is a reaction about eating disorders and if this topic triggers you, please do yourself a favour and do not read any further.

a/n: Eating disorders are nothing to be romanticized because they are awful, destroy people and may cause health problems you'll have to deal with for the rest of your life, even after recovery. Please, if you find yourself struggling to keep up a healthy relationship with food or you notice having toxic thoughts related to food and your weight, don't hesitate and search for help. Confide in someone who'll support you and help you get through this. It's gonna be a tough and long way but please don't wait until it's too late. I know you're strong and I believe in you. Also, my inbox is always open for anyone♡

- gender neutral –

Taeil:

Taeil would suddenly notice a weird change in your eating habits. He always viewed you as a healthy person not prone to any kind of mental illness, so he didn't think of that at first. He'd sometimes see you barely eating anything for a whole day and then the next it was as if you were eating for three. Taeil would get confused and start thinking about you and your habits, though not questioning them any further until then. Over the spam of a few days to a few weeks, Taeil would grow more sensitive and observant to your habits, getting suspicious to some extent. He couldn't really make out why you would eat so little one day, then so much the other.

One night he came home late and found you in the kitchen with various snacks and sweets splayed out in front of you and you were munching on them, not looking happy at all while doing so. In fact, you looked as if you were about to cry. Taeil then slowly approached you as to not startle you.

"Y/N? Is everything alright?" After hearing him ask you that, you'd slowly shake your head no, tears running down your cheeks until you felt yourself pressed against his firm chest and felt his strong arms wrapped around you.

"I already figured something was up... do you want to talk about it?" He would ask while comfortingly running his hands through your hair. You nodded into his chest and as he let go of you again, you told him everything about your struggle with starving and overeating and how it got out of hand. He'd look at you with warm eyes, as if to tell you that everything will be alright in the end.

"If you feel ready to confront your problems, let's seek professional help for you first thing tomorrow, okay? I am so worried about your well-being and I want you to be healthy and happy, so please let us take this step together and take action."

Johnny:

You normally told Johnny everything that went down in your life. You didn't like keeping secrets from him so you had always been like an open book for him to read. However, there had been one thing you didn't tell him.

You weren't always like this and you don't even remember anymore how it had started but you knew you slipped into an eating disorder and now you were trapped. You didn't want to worry Johnny, you were embarrassed to talk about it and you had never been particularly good with your words, so you had been way too afraid to tell him about your problem and that's why you decided to hide it.

It wasn't easy to hide everything from him. You had needed to come up with good excuses whenever he had wanted to eat with you. You were succeeding since Johnny didn't catch onto your hidden habits yet he still noticed the change in your behaviour and the lack in seeing you eat. Though it wasn't enough evidence to assume anything yet.

After a whole day of you being alone at home, Johnny would finally get home and slip into the apartment, nearly without making any sound. In turn, he did hear something, and it was your crying. Growing worried, he'd rush and take off his shoes next to the door and then run toward the bedroom, where he assumed your voice to have come from. When he opened the door he did, indeed, find you crying on the bed. He'd not lose any time and storm towards you, taking you in his arms and asking you what was wrong. In a desperate moment like this, you forgot about wanting to keep this side of you a secret from him, so you spilled the beans and told him about your eating disorder. He'd look at you with a shocked expression in his eyes, which would soon turn into concern and eventually sadness. "Jagi... I-I..." He struggled to say the right words at first, not wanting to make the situation worse.

"Jagi... I am so sorry... I don't know what to say. Please let's go get help together, I'm so worried about you. Would you be alright with that? I promise I'll stay by your side and help you get better."

Taeyong:

Taeyong loved cooking for you and seeing you eat well. It was one of his ways to take care of you. You also always complimented his food, which made his heart flutter and fill his mind with confidence. But at one point, everything started to change. You'd decline his food, saying you weren't hungry at that time or you'd poke around in your food with your fork, making it seem as if you were eating even though you actually didn't. At first Taeyong wouldn't say anything. He also wouldn't want to assume anything and basically diagnose you with a serious mental illness when in reality it could be something else troubling you that made you eat less. But the more often it happened, the more he realized he needed to talk to you about it as soon as possible.

So one day, when he had food prepared for the both of you and you were back at poking around in it, he'd finally approach the issue.

"Y/N... I noticed how you started eating less and less, claiming you weren't hungry and halfheartedly poking around in your food without actually eating it. I don't want to make any assumptions but do you maybe struggle when it comes to food?" He'd try to be sensitive when mentioning the issue, quietly observing your reaction. You realized he already guessed what's up and in a way you were relieved to be able to talk to someone about it, so you explained it all, telling him how you were really struggling with an eating disorder and how you felt like you couldn't get out of it alone anymore.

"Listen baby, if you're ready for a change and to get better, I'm here to help and support you through it all. Please do me a favour and try to at least eat some dinner, okay? Tomorrow we'll go to a therapist and we're getting you the help you need. We can do this."

Yuta:

Yuta had always been very observant. He would never miss the changes in your attitude and he'd always know what's up. He knew you very well to begin with but he was also a very empathetic man. At first he wouldn't think of anything dangerous when he noticed how you started eating a bit less than usual. You had mentioned to him that you wanted to get healthier and maybe drop some extra weight to be fully happy with yourself. Even though he already found you perfect the way you are, he knew you also deserved to feel beautiful in your own skin and if you reached that with losing a small amount of weight, he'd be okay with it.

Only after some time had he fully realized that what you were going through was serious and that he had to do something about it. He knew he needed to talk to you and get you to seek help. So one evening, he'd ask you to have a conversation with him and you'd both sit down on the sofa.

"You know you can tell me anything, okay?" He started off. "Listen, Y/N... I noticed the change in your eating habits and I observed you for a while. I feel like you're in a dangerous position at the moment and I'm extremely concerned and worried about you..." You'd not know how to answer him properly since tears started streaming down your face. Yuta would take you in his arms and stroke your back soothingly, just holding you there with him and giving you an opportunity to let it all out. In tears you'd confess everything to him and tell him how you've struggled and how you knew it was bad but you couldn't get yourself to stop since you craved looking like all these photoshopped models in magazines. He'd continue caressing you, telling you how beautiful you were and how you didn't need to look like that in order to be beautiful.

After a long and emotional talk, he'd ask you if you were ready to seek professional help and to fight your mental illness. You said yes, since you knew it wouldn't get as hard with Yuta on your side as it would've gotten alone.

Doyoung:

One day Doyoung would start noticing how you seemed to make a disgusted face whenever you looked in the mirror, examining yourself. He knew you didn't have the best self-esteem and he always tried to help you gain more confidence in yourself and making you feel loved but he guessed some things couldn't be erased solely through words from another person. Some things required a change in thought within oneself.

He only ever wanted the best for you, so naturally he'd grow observant after realizing how you seemed to eat less and less. Putting two and two together, he guessed you probably wanted to lose weight. It didn't seem that drastic and you were really good at hiding how much food you were actually consuming. You knew Doyoung was one hell of a smart boyfriend and he'd catch on to what you were doing when you wouldn't be careful. So you learned to hide and also become distant from him to some extent. This would worry him even more and he was sure by now that something was up. He was afraid you'd eventually starve yourself to death and that thought alone was so terrifying he couldn't even think about it.

The next time he came over, he brought takeout food with him, hoping all his suspicions were only just that - suspicions, and would turn out to be wrong. But you denied when he asked you whether you were hungry, claiming you just ate dinner a while ago but before you could end your sentence your stomach started to grumble at the delicious scent of food tickling your nose. Doyoung knew now, his suspicions were proven true, so he sat down next to you and prepared for a serious talk.

"Jagi, hearing your stomach like that shows me, you haven't eaten already. I've been having my suspicions for a while now and I've grown more anxious as time had passed. I knew I needed to find out if you really struggled or not... But now I'm pretty sure you do."

You'd look at him with big eyes that were filling themselves with tears, trying to explain it all to him. Now that he figured out you may as well just tell him the whole truth. He'd listen to your every word, feeling sadder with every passing minute. In the end tears would stream down both your faces, you'd fall into each other's arms and have him promise you to help you get out of all this.

Jaehyun:

Due to Jaehyun's busy lifestyle as an idol, he couldn't be with you for as much as he'd have wanted. Therefore, he'd often miss the little things that happened in your life. Though he always was a very attentive boyfriend, it was just impossible to catch onto every single detail.

Whenever you were out you managed to make up excuses, telling him you had already eaten or only taking something really small. He wouldn't give much thought to it at first, since you don't just go around suspecting people of having an eating disorder. However, it would've gotten harder for you to hide your antics from him when he stayed with you for a whole week. Now he was in the same apartment with you 24/7 and you couldn't tell him you had already eaten anymore. You had to eat, if you wanted to keep it a secret from him, there had been no other choice. So you'd end up eating meals with him, excusing yourself to the bathroom shortly after and throwing it up again. It wasn't nice at all, it was a struggle and it hurt a lot but it was the only way for you.

You kept up with it for the time being, thinking you were safe. What you didn't know was that he went to the bedroom right after you had gone to the bathroom. The bedroom was right next to the bathroom, so the inevitable happened and Jaehyun heard your gagging noises. He'd realize you were throwing up and immediately a wave of concern flooded him. 'Were you sick? Was the food bad? Why did he feel fine then though?' When you got out you'd almost stumble over Jaehyun, standing there, looking at you. When he asked you whether you were sick, you dodged the question and eventually denied. He'd ask you some more questions whether you really felt fine or whether your stomach didn't tolerate the food. You denied every time, growing visibly nervous. In the end he stopped asking further questions but he had grown suspicious.

From then on he'd always lurk around in the bedroom after a meal, wanting to make sure he didn't hear you vomit again. But that was exactly what he did hear, every time. After you came out again, he'd already wait in front of the bathroom for you, ready to talk to you about it.

Since he would make it pretty clear that he knew what was going on, you'd admit it and tell him everything. He'd grow soft for you and feel so heartbroken over hearing how you've been struggling for so long. He'd then hug you tightly and ask you if you wanted to go to a professional, together with him, and talk about your problem.

"Please let us get help for you before it's too late, Jagi. You're so important to me, I don't want to lose you."

Winwin:

You had been struggling with a lot lately. You felt ugly and fat no matter what and your thoughts seemed to revolve around food only and on how you managed to consume as little as possible while at the same time shedding calories as much as possible. You'd cut down on meals and gradually eat less and less. It was making you sick and tired, you were lacking energy, you got moody and felt even more sensitive than ever. In short, what had started off as wanting to drop a pound or two became a nightmare that dared destroying your whole life.

Until as of late, you had always managed to hide your struggles from your boyfriend Sicheng. He also wasn't the quickest to catch onto subtle things like that and since you didn't see him every day it was barely impossible to even notice the change in your demeanor. But you couldn't deal with it anymore, so you decided to finally talk to your boyfriend and tell him about the struggles you've been having for weeks on end. You sat down with him one day and started to explain it all to him. He was listening intently and the further you explained, the more his face dropped and the worry became evident in his eyes. He'd have noticed how you got skinnier but he didn't link your weight loss to a serious mental illness. He'd be beyond shocked and genuinely concerned and afraid for your well-being. When you finished talking, he'd take your hands in his and look at you with sad eyes.

"Y/N... I'm so sorry you've been going through all this lately and I feel even more sorry for not noticing. I feel like I lacked in taking care of you but I want to make that up now. Please let's visit a professional who'll help you get through this together and I won't leave your side throughout it all. I'll be with you and you can count on me. Together we'll defeat your demons."

Mark&Haechan: Since I wrote the same reaction for NCT Dream already, I'll link you that reaction in case you want to read about Mark&Haechan. I didn't want to copy paste their reactions from the dreamie post to this one and I also didn't want to write a new reaction for them, since I have one idea how each member would react and it would be weird if I suddenly changed that. So, if you want to read about them, you can use the link and read the dreamie reaction.♡

oof this was almost 3k words, you better not let this one flop^^<3

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writefasttalkevenfaster · 7 years

Text

Rafael Barba / In Sickness...

Imagine having to take care of Barba when he’s sick.

So if this hasn’t been done a million and one times.... So I love the idea of having to take care of Barba when he’s sick, because I feel like he’s really stubborn and would hate that a little cold could take him down like this. He stands up to rapists, murderers, and gangsters, but a little cold and he cannot function. This is me though since I tend to get sick before/after midterms/finals or when I’m super stressed and I am also a workaholic like Barba soooo.

Barba hadn’t shown up to the office today, you noted with some curiousity. You tapped your pen on your desk, recalling the handful of times he’s been out of the office for this long without prior notice. Well more work for you, you sighed, glancing at the pile of briefs and motions in front of you, before getting to work. Either way, it would be nice to get some work done without him watching over your shoulder for once. You had just gotten to work, when your phone started to vibrate. It spasmed, informing you of several messages that had come through. You checked the phone, spotting Barba’s name flashing at the top of your notifications. You unlocked your phone, only for him to call you.

You sighed, the man was the most impatient person you had ever met, and picked up the phone call with a bit of reluctance. “L/N,” You answered.

“I texted you some file names. I need you to bring those files to m-” Barba’s last words were cut off by a hacking cough, you flinched, holding the phone away for a moment, before getting back on the line. “To my apartment.” He croaked out the rest of his sentence.

“Are you okay?” You could almost see him scowl at you, feeling the daggers come through your phone screen.

“Just perfect,” He replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm, though severely undercut by his now hoarse voice. You said nothing, giving an audible sigh, and waiting for him to explain. “I caught a cold, and didn’t think it was prudent for me to come into the office sick-”

“Even though you probably have done that before?” It was his turn to sigh.

“Maybe I’ll just pick them up myself,” He said bitterly, and you felt a tinge of guilt gnawing at you, before leaping into action. You held your phone between your cheek and shoulder, as you grabbed a pen and a piece of paper.

“Hold it, Barba, I got it. You’ll have your folders in no time. Just stay in bed and rest. Tell me which ones you need.”

You not only picked up the folders he needed, but while you were at it, you picked up some cold medicine, cough drops, and some lunch. You figured he didn’t exactly have the energy to cook, especially since he actually stayed home from work. Something that still surprised you when you considered what a workaholic the man was. You arrived at the address he texted you, the doorman let you in and you arrived to his loft. You knocked on his door hesitantly. You just realized you were arriving at your boss’s apartment, you weren’t sure how to conduct yourself. You fidgeted while waiting for him to answer the door, when you got a text. It’s open.

You threw open the door, shutting it behind you with your foot. “You work sex and murder crimes and you think its safe to leave your door-” You looked around, you didn’t see who you were lecturing. “Barba?”

“In here,” A muffled voice floated from another room. You wandered to another door, knocking on it. “Come in,” You saw him with his laptop on his lap, back pressed against his headboard and some pillows. His eyes were bloodshot, his voice scratchy, and his nose was red and splotchy. He had several files piled next to him, as well as a mountain of tissues in his trash can. “Good, you brought the files.” You saw him texting on his phone. “I have a hearing on Monday. I’m texting Rita Calhoun trying to-” You walked over, snatching the phone from his hands. “What? What are you doing?” You closed the laptop, picking up the files around him and placed it on his dresser. “Y/N, give-”

“Bed rest,” You said calmly. He opened his mouth, but you cut him off. “You want to be well enough on Monday for trial, you need to rest.” You dug through the bag you bought, pulling out some cold medicine and tossing it to him. “Take this. Wait, how long has it been since you took anything?” He glowered at you.

“I’m not a child,” He scowled, but it was less effective with his red nose and watery eyes. You raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing.

“I want you to lay down, and rest. I bought lunch, but I’m going to heat it up.” You turned and were heading from the room. “Lay down,” You insisted with a wave of your hand. “Please?” He grumbled, and muttered something about still needing his phone back, but he laid down as per your request.

You warmed everything up, you grabbed some food from a great Egyptian place that you and Rafael often got lunch from. You found a bed tray he had in kitchen, and set it up on his lap. You brought in his wrap, plus a large drink and some fries as a side. Rafael’s eyes cracked open, peering at you and the food. “Should I feed you too?” You joked as he sat himself up. He began to eat, as you left the room to eat yourself, but you heard him call you back. “Yeah?”

“Aren’t you going to join me?” He raised an eyebrow. You blinked.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to.” He rolled his eyes as he had done countless times.

“Do I need to be incapable of eating in order to get you to have lunch with me?” You sighed, the man was a piece of work. You grabbed a chair and your food, pulling up a chair next to his sick bed. You both ate in a comfortable silence, until he broke it. “Thank you,”

“What was that?” You grinned at him, and he shook his head.

“And you say I’m a piece of work,” The man was also a mind reader. “I said thank you for doing this. You didn’t have to.”

“Well, you’ve grown on me Barba, what can I say?” You took a bite of your wrap. “Plus I couldn’t ignore a sick man’s desperate pleas to work, but you aren’t working while I’m here. I’ll stay past dinner to make sure you don’t starve.” You checked the time. It was 1 PM. You looked back to see Rafael checking his phone again. You snatched the phone from his hands, he snapped up at you, aghast. “You eat lunch with me, you play by my rules, counselor.”

After some prompting, you got Barba to take his medicine and go to bed for a few hours, forcing him to change into something more comfortable after you left the room, which left you alone in his apartment. You pulled out your laptop and began to work on some of your own cases and work. You took care of your work and some of Barba’s work as well. You sighed, feeling accomplished, but completely mentally drained. You laid on the couch, pulling out your earbuds and phone, listening to some music. Your mind began to drift, and managed to sleep for about an hour, until a knock at the door startled you to your feet. You stumbled to the door, throwing it open. You saw an agape Olivia at the door, her expression went from confused to awkward in a matter of seconds, and you realized what conclusion she had jumped to.

“Y/N,” She looked at a loss for words, while your mind had completely blanked. “I went to see you both, but Carmen told me that Barba had stayed home today, and you had left, so I thought I’d pay him a visit.”

You remembered after an excruciatingly long millisecond that you could speak. “Yes, of course; he’s still asleep actually.” You felt blood rush to your face when you saw her eyebrows raise. Shit. You realized not only the implied connotations of what you said, but what a mess your clothes and hair looked like after falling asleep. “In his own bed. I was on the couch. He asked to bring over some files.” You explained, your words rushed, as you let Liv in. You saw her eyes spot the takeout containers on the counter. “He’s really ill, so I brought lunch for him, and me, since I hadn’t ate.” You were rambling and felt quite stupid to be honest. Liv always managed to make you feel inferior in someway. She just seemed so together all of the time. And her and Barba, well...the two had chemistry. You wouldn’t be surprised if they had or would ever date. The thought had crossed your mind, but you had pushed it aside. Although, you couldn’t deny it always left a strange tinge. “He’s passed out, but maybe I could help.”

Liv explained the case to you, a rape case gone cold had opened back up again. She wanted to see if they had enough to take it to trial. You looked over the files, smoothing over your hair as you did. “I don’t know. It seems like the evidence is-” That’s when Barba’s door opened behind the two of you, and you both turned to see Barba walk out in a plain t-shirt and shorts, rubbing his eyes.

“Do you have anymore of that medicine you gave me in bed because-” He seemed to have realize Liv was there, and you swear you saw a blush appear for a split second as blood rushed to his nose and ears. “Liv, what’s up?”

You had turned about five shades of red at the implication of being in bed with your boss. And you saw Liv’s expression out of the corner of your eye, and you weren’t sure, but she looked almost amused. “Not much, Barba, just some new evidence in that rape case we were working. Now do you want to discuss this now or after you get dressed?” A look of realization and horror crossed his face, before he quickly retreated into the bedroom.

There was several moments of mortifying silence, until you chose to break it. “Liv, you know it’s not what it looks like. I really did only come here to bring the case files and lunch.”

Liv searched your expression, freezing you in place like a prep, but then shook her head. “I know,” A brief smile graced her features. “But I’m still not going to let him live this down.”

#rafael barba #rafael barba x oc #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba fanfic #barba fic #raul esparza #law and order svu #law and order: special victims unit #law and order imagine #fanfiction #law and order #svu imagine #barba #barba x reader

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