#ill probably just find someone new to work with after that months long process has been tackled

[sydmarch]

might have a mutual breakup with my therapist tomorrow sigh

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Demeter

Have I been using this series to vicariously punish Belphie for the events of Season 1? I cannot confirm nor deny that statement.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter

Lucifer

Didn't think too much of the "human" when they popped out of the portal. Sure they had a straw hat and a huge basket full of produce but it wasn’t like they were… Wait… No… Were they…?

Oh no. Oh nonononono, this is not good…!!

Demeter is notoriously doting and protective of her children (see her freakout and breakdown after Hades abducted of Persephone as proof) and they've pretty much done the EXACT. SAME. THING. here!!

It was a mad scramble by him and Diavolo to contact and appease their godly Mother Bear before she came roaring down to Devildom herself to turn them all into barley. Thankfully, Zeus must have intervened at some point because though she was indeed PISSED, she didn't threaten to barge in… yet.

She made one thing very clear. Bend so much as a single hair on her precious child's head and there would be WAR…

The MC received a 24 hour security detail after that. Just Mammon wasn't going to cut it, he needed NO chances. It was a full rotation of Mammon, him and Beel for the entirety of their stay (Asmo and Levi both threw hissy fits at the prospect of babysitting, Satan couldn’t be trusted not to kill them just to irritate him, and Belphie was out for… obvious reasons).

In some ways, it wasn’t so bad. The MC was a very mild sort of person, rather even tempered. He’d dare say they were pleasant, mostly content to just tend to their gardens and be out in the moonlight…

But the problem was, he just could not convince them to stay OUT of nature. Including the forests, which were full of hellish beasts fully intent on gnawing their flesh from their bones… and their specialty was plants, not animals, sooo…

Their habit of sneaking out to wander the woods got so bad that he very nearly considered pulling a Belphie 2 and locking them in the basement for their own good. But Devil knows what damage their mother would do if she found out…

At least they make for pleasant company… And Diavolo seems to like them quite a bit himself so the mortal gets a pass from him. Now if they’d only consider their own safety for a change…

Mammon

They make him a KILLING.

Like, no seriously. Their produce is insane!! He’s never tasted food so good, especially stuff that’s come fresh from the ground! It only took a few berries for Mammon to throw on a straw hat himself and start harvesting! He’s a farmer now, baby!!

Weeellll not quite. He’s still absolutely only in it for the money, but anything he brings to a farmer’s market goes so fast that he can hardly care about the labor! He’s never made this much Grimm in his life!! And it’s totally legit for a change!

He bought himself another car, paid off half of his debt, and even got Levi back that 2 or 3 grand he leant him centuries ago. Really, Mammon’s living his best life and it’s all thanks to MC!

It’s a good thing his blatant grifting doesn’t hurt his relationship with them at all, in fact they seem to enjoy having his help regardless. They bring him drinks on hot days or invite him on picnics and stuff, it’s… it’s really sweet. They’re very nice to him and he appreciates it…

But… COULD YA JUST STAY PUT ALREADY???

It drives him INSANE that they won’t stay out of dangerous places!! After he started caring about them for more than just a meal ticket it only got even worse!!

He’s not usually one for monitoring someone’s every move (that kind of control freak behavior is more a Lucifer thing) but he eventually had to set up familiars around the House just to keep them from sneaking out at night...

What was so interesting out there anyway?? There wasn’t any kind of plant that he could bring them himself! They didn’t have any need to be out there!! 

They’d keep telling him they’d be fine but it’s not like he’s going to actually buy that. They were too… nice to be dangerous or anything so why would he believe them?

No more running off, MC! Please, he’s beggin’ ya!!

Leviathan 

Wait, gardening? Like, being outdoors and stuff? Ew. No thanks, he’ll pass.

That was more or less his first reaction when they showed up and it never really got much better than that…

He admits that they’re friendly and it’s not like he dislikes them or anything, but their thing so far from his thing that they just don’t have a lot in common… you know?

For starters, they get So. Antsy. when they’re inside for too long! He tried to invite them to a marathon once, but they could hardly keep still and kept looking around like they were searching for a window… He said, “to jump out of.” They insisted just for some fresh air, but he didn’t buy it...

They’re nice enough to listen to his rants, but they’re barely ever inside for him to do so and like HELL is he going to leave his room and stand around out there for that long. Ranting is at least a one to two hour engagement! What if he gets hot out there? And have you SEEN Devildom bees?? Hell no!!

He has, however, asked them on multiple occasions to reproduce flowers he’s seen in different anime, especially ones that have a very unique look and they’ve done some real wonders with that!

He can now claim to be the only person to ever own a Ruby-Jade Vine plant, straight from the pages of TSL when it was used to brew tea for the Lord of Lechery during his brief illness and-is anyone even still listening anymore?

The point is, it’s a flower so rare it was imaginary but now HE has it!... or had it for about a week until his utter incompetence of all things plant killed it…

He begged the MC for another but they were out of the plants they needed to make it and would have to go back to the human world to find more… He’s still mourning his loss… Poor Henry 4.0…

Satan

Well… He’s called this MC “salt of the Earth” and he does truly mean it. Take of that what you will.

He doesn’t get much in the way of intellectual conversation out of this mortal UNLESS he’s talking about plants, farming, or botany… Interesting topics and complex in their own right to be sure, but that’s pretty much their wheelhouse and they like it there.

That being said, the feats that they can perform are genuinely mind-blowing! They are the ONLY person he has ever met who can cultivate the Devildom’s own ultra-rare Phantom Orchid, a plant only blooms when it reaches a perfect state of undeath (i.e. both taken care of and neglected just enough so that it's only barely alive. The balance is so tricky to master that one hasn’t bloomed down there for centuries!)

There’s also something just genuinely relaxing about watching them work or helping them in the gardens… More so than he’d ever expected from such a simple activity.

He admits that he’s taken quite a few strolls through the flower-filled courtyard of the Demon Lord’s Castle just to admire its beauty... But anything that they can grow just blows all of that out of the water!

They even taught him several magic botanical techniques so now he can grow some pretty mad plants himself. Lucifer never expected to find that giant Venus Flytrap in his closet, but one was there regardless. 😏

Just… out of curiosity one day, he asked the MC if they could make him a new kind of catnip. Not for any nefarious reason! You know… just for research purposes…

The nip they made was so effective that the House grounds were FILLED with nipped-up cats for a whole month! He was in Heaven!! (and Lucifer practically wiped those plants from existence so he couldn’t get any more… asshole...)

That must have inspired them because they apparently made a demons-only version that they told him about WELL after the fact. Had he known, he probably would have burned the stuff on principle... Do you know how dangerous demon-nip could be to them? Experiment responsibly, MC!

Asmodeus 

Ehhhh, gardening SOUNDS like one of those things that should be super Devilgram-able, but then you realize how sweaty and dirty you get in the process and it’s a huge turn off… Sorry MC.

When they first came down to the Devildom, he thought two things: 1) Such a sweet little flower child, as adorable as they were, would never survive; and 2) even if they could, he would never ever see eye-to-eye with them on the “wonders” of getting all up in the dirt.

Well, he was right about 2, but certainly not 1. Personally, he thinks his brothers worry about them too much, they ARE still a demigod.

At one point he saw a pack of hellhounds almost trample one of their vegetable gardens and they lost it. Word to the wise, never try to take on a child of Demeter in their own garden. Those hounds were wrapped up in rose vines before they could even yelp...

Yeah, the MC would be fine.

That being said, while everybody else clamors over their produce, he thinks that their flowers are really where it’s at!

Taking just five minutes in one of their gardens is something else... He’s never seen blossoms as healthy and immaculate in all the Devildom before! Their beauty could (almost) rivals his own! What they do isn’t just a hobby, it’s an art.

He’s taken multiple pictures with their blossoms and they go viral every time. It’s so rare to actually see gorgeous, petal-filled flowers in the Devildom, most of the native plants are of the man-eating variety.

His only complaint about this MC is that they seem to feel much more at home in work clothes and dirt than they do in any sort of party-look he tries to give them… Cute as they are, they can afford to gussy up sometimes can’t they? Mud and grass stains don’t make for a good look, sorry.

Beelzebub 

Beel gardens and the MC gardens as well. Add on that they seem to be able to grow all manner of fruits and veggies and he likes this one. A lot.

They had just finished apple-picking when the portal nabbed them so they had a massive basket of apples at the time. Naturally, Beel more or less stole the thing on sight, but the apples inside were so juicy and good that he almost shook them down for more on the spot!

Imagine his surprise when they, half pleadingly, explained to him that if he got them some seeds they could just grow more… and it wouldn’t even take that long.

To be clear, the formula he saw was this: Get seeds > bring seeds to mortal > mortal grows seeds > mortal makes endless supply of food….

Congratulations MC, you’ve now earned the sixthborn’s eternal loyalty after a grand total of… two minutes. He didn’t even know their name, but he was willing to take a bullet for them (provided he got more of those apples).

The next several months were spent with Beel attached to them to the hip in some way, but honestly? It was just so wholesome anyway…

If he’s helping in the garden, he never complains. He does most of the heavy lifting and actually likes being out there with them (unlike others...)

Many afternoons were spent sitting under fruit trees and talking. Sometimes, they go to the trouble of preparing a picnic or something but it would always inevitably end with Beel plucking the whole tree clean of whatever ripe (or unripe) fruit he can get his hands on with a smile. 

The MC never minded though. That’s just another excuse to grow more, right?

His only problem was when the MC would sneak out to the forest… especially when they get too antsy and just go alone. 

He HATES it when they do that! How is he supposed to keep them safe if they just wander off?? He knows that they have a special connection to nature and all, but it isn’t safe…

He’s flown in and scooped them back up to the House on numerous occasions and his “talking tos” get sterner after every rescue... Please stay put, MC! He’d have so many reasons to be sad if you were eaten… 😔

Belphegor 

Okay, he was looking for a capable, if not gullible, human. Not a shoeless flower hippy!

He honestly wasn't expecting much out of this one... Damn their little heart because they did genuinely believed his lies, it’s just that they weren't… well… They were really good at gardening.

… And it grew kind of hard to keep hating them whenever they'd show up just to give him fresh berries or a bouquet to see him smile… He may claim that his heart is made of nightmares and orphan tears, but who doesn’t enjoy being given a batch of flowers? 

Damn their sweetness too… Right to here.

When it came time to kill them he had a heavier heart than he thought he would, but kind of saw it like putting down the sacrificial lamb. Gotta be done to reach better goals... Stiff upper lip and all that.

Unfortunately for him, they had taken to carrying packets of demon-nip with them as a self-defense measure…

He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected when they shouted “Get nipped!” at him mid-attack, but it wasn’t a face full of some smelly herb! Like, really smelly…! Actually, that smelt kind of good… Hold on.

Turns out murderous rage really doesn’t last long after you get what is effectively ultra-strong catnip thrown in your face. They ended up having to go and tell Lucifer what happened themselves because Belphie was way too blissed out on the floor to do anything... They were legitimately worried they might have fried his brain...

He’s told the effects of the demon-nip lasted three days. He doesn’t know, because he hardly remembers any of it... They described him as like he was high on “weed” and “ecstasy” at the same time but he doesn’t know what either of those are either so it wasn’t helpful…

Truthfully, they were so nice to him while he was recovering that he couldn’t even be mad afterwards so all's well that ends well? Either way, he’s sleeping under their orchard trees from now on. It’s peaceful out there...

They burnt all that nip though. It’s some strong stuff...

[ruby-whistler]

Why c!Dream should (and probably will be) redeemed

Hi! I’m bad with intros. You’ve read the title, so, let’s start with the definitions.

In this essay, we are considering the popularized definition of “redemption” instead of the classical one, which is, as per the Oxford Dictionary, “the act of saving or state of being saved from the power of evil; the act of redeeming.” That’s not however the way the word is used in fandom and media.

/dsmp /rp

The definition of redemption I’ll be working with in this essay is not forgiveness by the people who c!Dream has hurt, nor is it removing himself entirely from his past actions, but moreso the decision to change for the better and abandon destructive mindsets for himself and others.

A “redemption” in a narrative sense would be circumstances and a character arc that would allow that kind of healing and betterment.

I’d like to start this off by the fact that being “irredeemable”, in this sense, also doesn’t exist; redemption is a thing of conditions and choice, not of being allowed by someone else. You can’t gatekeep healing from people who seek it, just to be clear, and that even goes for people who have done terrible things.

Since I understand there is a lot of concern for c!Dream’s past actions, here is a post from people who are much more fit than me to speak on the matter, about the way in which they see a possible c!Dream redemption arc.

Another disclaimer, I am not going to be considering c!Dream only from the perspective of c!Tommy in this essay. c!Dream appears in other people’s perspectives and he himself has his own, unseen perspective. As a character, he is an individual person in his own right rather than just the antagonist of c!Tommy’s story, and so I do not have much concern for their narratives intertwining too much should this writing choice occur.

I’d also like to note that redemption is, in this sense, always a positive thing for everyone involved - someone who’s been prone to doing bad things in the past deciding not to do them anymore and try to change, or just simply heal enough to consider it, isn’t going to have a long-term negative effect in any of the characters, but rather the other way around. Healing is an unlimited resource, and the victims do not have to heal first for the person who hurt them to consider being better.

Here’s a well-written thread on Twitter that elaborates a bit to finish off this point, and let’s move on to actually talking about redemption in the context of the Dream SMP, and c!Dream specifically.

Why a c!Dream redemption arc is not only a good writing choice, but in this case the only good writing choice;

c!Dream, as we all know, has been subject to mental and physical abuse to the point of straight up torture by both c!Sam and c!Quackity (to different extents). He has been in indescribable amounts of suffering for the past 74 days at the time this essay will be published. That is six and something times the duration of the entire exile arc in canon.

Whatever the interpretation of his words in prison is, what is undeniable is first of all the fact his mental stability is absolutely crushed at this point, second that no human being could possibly ever deserve to undergo this, and third, his stay in the prison is showing off his humanity and making him out to be sympathetic.

Now, consider this; how would it feel if c!Tommy died at the end of the exile arc? Empty, there would be no catharsis to such an end, especially because of all of the hurt he’d gone through. Objectively, a bad writing choice.

Let’s compare, narratively of course, this situation to the prison arc. Even though I would never say one of them is “better” or “worse” than the other, since both are terrible and undeserved, c!Dream’s current state checks off all of the boxes that would make his death unsatisfying in the storyline; even if people want him gone, there would still be the dissatisfaction at the current build-up and why they even did it in the first place (it really wasn’t necessary to anyone else’s story to make him out as a victim, and yet they did) if they were planning to kill him off anyways. And since the prison arc is naturally meant to induce sympathy, even from an angst perspective it would simply not make sense within the themes and writing of the plot.

So, c!Dream can’t die, and he also can’t stay in the prison forever - the build-up must lead to something, which is logically a breakout. Great… what now?

Well, the Dream SMP prides itself in accurate representation of trauma and mental instability, specifically cc!Tommy and cc!Dream who have pulled it off incredibly during the exile arc.

Now, undoubtedly, after the prison, c!Dream is going to be just terribly traumatized- considering the writers’ past creative decisions, would it make sense for him to play the role of a dangerous, heartless villain in other people’s stories, while completely ignoring the logical fallout of what he’s been through?

In my mind, no. The most possible result is that cc!Dream is going to rightfully portray someone who’s been hurt so much he is broken, scared and tortured into submissions over months of agony and slowly stripping away of his agency, his dignity, his humanity. And that is… not going to be pretty, nor is he going to be in any way the same as before.

After everything, I’d be surprised if he can properly look at shears without shaking. That’s not villain behaviour, that’s the behaviour of someone who needs help.

Which leads me to another point, which is relatability. Believe me or not, there are people out there who heavily relate to c!Dream because they have been through things that allow them to see themselves in the character - abandonment, mental illness, etc. - or who have had destructive mindsets they have struggled to let go of in the past.

To them, as well as to the viewer, redeeming c!Dream could actually be a very good example, showcasing that anyone who has done bad things or has been hurt in the past can learn that it is possible to be better, to move on, to not be stuck in a loop but to actively seek help and then use that support to find the path to healing.

Making c!Dream a better person, who in a way, wins over his past, over his trauma, over the hurt he’s caused, and manages to actually get better… is inspiring, in a sense. It shows that you can abandon unhealthy mindsets, you can find a support group of people who care about you, you can make your life better simply by deciding to be better and then sticking to that, no matter how difficult the process.

This is why I believe that redeeming c!Dream would not be bad writing, but quite the opposite, and that the prison arc is an obvious set-up. Alright, but how does that work with the character? How could someone so widely hated mentally improve in such a seemingly violent and terrible environment? Would it even make sense within the context of c!Dream’s character so far? Well,

Why c!Dream has the capacity for healing and the Dream SMP the ability to provide it;

First of all, let’s remind ourselves that through c!Dream’s entire spiral he wasn’t ever directly given a chance to change. He was regarded as someone to defeat in order to accomplish a happy ending, or as someone who needed to be removed in order to achieve power on the SMP. Ever since the 16th, which is when the corruption of the character is the most obvious, there have been no attempts to reach out or to help him. I do not blame the characters for this - I am simply pointing out that since it has never happened before, we do not know how he would respond, and that, after everything he’s been through, any bit of kindness or compassion towards him will be a new concept he will have to learn to deal with somehow.

This point is especially driven home by the fact that both c!Quackity and c!Sam would often tell him he is a monster who deserves nothing but to suffer, and that what he’s going through is never going to amount to all the hurt he’s caused - basically removing any possibility for ever getting better (because by this logic, he doesn’t deserve support, and he doesn’t deserve to get better) from his line of sight.

He also hasn’t had a support system since shortly after the 16th, when his friends left him over c!George’s dethronement and made no effort to mend their relationship afterwards. c!Dream isn’t used to having allies and people on his side, but to being hated; again, wouldn’t that mean positive reinforcement could very well be all he needs to make the choice?

His bad mindsets - attachments are weakness, ends always justify the means, people will consider you a bad person no matter what you do - have been continuously proven right by his environment, even in prison. Any kind of subversion, plus an explanation as to why they are wrong, could be of great help to c!Dream.

Just another disclaimer; I do not believe c!Dream would change thanks to the treatment in prison, but rather despite it. His mental stability is non-existent at that point, and in order to get better he needs genuine emotional support from the people around him as well as to heal before he can redeem himself.

Alright, but… c!Dream has hurt a lot of people. Who would be fit to help him?

Let’s start off with the worst option and why it’s impossible the writers would even attempt this; c!Tommy.

c!Tommy has no responsibility to help or ever forgive c!Dream - not to say he could. The two, as it is, would drag each other down instead of helping in any capacity, and only make matters worse. The two of them shouldn’t even interact in the best case scenario - the best thing for both of them would be if they got enough healing and support individually that they could live around each other and not get their trauma or toxic habits triggered when interacting for whatever purpose of the plot.

So, if not c!Tommy (and c!Tubbo neither by extension), who could redeem c!Dream?

Well, he can’t do it on his own for sure. Being in nature with animals is nice, but further isolation from other people would merely help with the prison trauma, not with the state of his tendencies when interacting with others. He, once again, needs positive reinforcement from other people for him to heal properly.

There are two main options for this in my mind, and then there’s a few individuals he could also find comfort in, including people from both groups or those unaligned.

1) Kinoko Kingdom

From the people of this new country, c!Dream has never negatively interacted with c!Karl before, he has never hurt c!George and he hasn’t directly harmed c!Sapnap. Although the relationship with his old friend group could be difficult to rekindle, none of them have grudges against him that are too personal, and they have been canonically close friends since the beginning of the SMP, so it would be very much possible to rebuild burnt bridges. They’d be familiar, and with the addition of c!Karl they could be a good source of comfort for c!Dream after he either breaks out or is released from prison - just gotta convince c!Sapnap not to kill him first.

2) The Syndicate

From the Syndicate, c!Dream has never directly interacted with c!Nikki, and from what I know of her character she never seemed to be very affected by his actions - even doing his work for him when he was planning to burn down the L’Mantree. c!Techno is an ally who doesn’t have anything against him, and as for c!Ranboo, here is why I believe c!Dream being in the Syndicate could be positively influential on his character arc as well;

c!Ranboo and c!Philza have had a conversation about change, during which c!Ranboo made it clear he thinks everyone can change except for c!Dream; who, in his mind, is “too deep down the rabbit hole”. c!Philza replied that he thinks anyone can change if given enough time.

… you see what I’m getting at?

c!Dream has been implied to be an ally to c!Ranboo’s enderwalk state (or the state when he has access to his full memory), and hence would most likely not behave negatively towards him at all. While it might make it more difficult for c!Ranboo to deal with his own issues, it might also give him more motivation to get to the bottom of it as well, especially since he now has access to the person who, presumably, started this all. While this is going on, c!Dream would show himself in a much different light than c!Ranboo sees himin, which could lead to confusion, realization of the flaws in his own logic, and hence, positive character development.

Here’s a great post about why c!Techno as a character could be a great asset in c!Dream’s healing process & redemption, and why there is not much need to worry about him not knowing or finding out about c!Dream’s actions.

Of Kinoko Kingdom and the Syndicate, as far as I know, neither c!Tommy nor c!Tubbo have ever been directly involved with these groups, nor are they planning to.

Another important point to make is that, while c!Tommy needs to be kept away from c!Dream in order to heal properly, the same goes for c!Quackity and c!Sam in c!Dream’s case. While c!Quackity has high chances to interact with either Kinoko Kingdom or the Syndicate in the future, there’s an even higher chance, in that situation, that c!Dream would be offered protection, which is also important; there is no healing from trauma without the knowledge of safety, to some degree.

So, this was an essay as to why I think c!Dream’s recovery and redemption (one needs to come before the other, naturally) is not only extremely possible but also could be pulled off well and have a positive impact on both the characters, and the audience.

[anaveragebibliophile]

Impossible

Carlisle Cullen x OC

Summary: Carlisle and his mate Eloise receive some shocking news that they weren’t necessarily prepared to deal with regarding her health. Instead of seeing what’s right in front of him, Carlisle believes that his wife’s health issues are stemming from other avenues. It isn’t until his wife makes a discovery that he alters his course of action. 

Note: This is a deviation from what I normally post, but I hope that all of you will take the chance and give it a read. :) 

“I can’t even believe this is happening again. And with your wife of all people!” Jacob Black shouted as he walked into the Cullen family’s wide, contemporary kitchen. 

“Jacob, we’ve discussed this. Eloise isn’t like us. She isn’t a vampire, she’s a phoenix. As such, she’s capable of resurrecting the dead, the broken, the ill-equipped parts of us that are theoretically unsalvageable. And as things stand, we all know I’m infertile. Or that I was.” Carlisle explained. “Believe me, I’m just as overwhelmed as you are. Even more so because I’m still struggling to accept the fact that I helped someone--the woman I adore more than anything else on this earth--procreate.”

And it’s not like the couple had been trying either. Quite the opposite actually. Sure, both of them had done ample amounts of research--through legends and the like--to determine whether or not they would need to take precautions before having intercourse. From what little they could find, it appeared that exercising the freedom of caution was the best choice. Not only had pregnancies been reported, multiple births seemed to be a common occurrence. And even though Carlisle was reluctant to put his faith into these infinitesimal references, he still did what any self-respecting man would do: He made sure his strong, confident wife made the final decision about what she wanted to do. At the end of the day, her body would have been doing the brunt of the work had a pregnancy occurred. 

Eloise thought long and hard about this and would even go so far as to test herself. Did she want a child? Yes. Would she be a genuinely good mother? She hoped so. But the ultimate question remained: did she want a child with Carlisle? More than anything else in the world. However, it just didn’t seem like the right time. The pack was going through organizational disputes, the Volturi were still trying to find ways to get her and Alice to join their coven, and Bella and Edward were in the process of adopting a child. There was just too much happening around her for that to work out. Or so she thought at that moment. 

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About two months later, she started feeling a bit off-kilter. She was suffering from myriad migraine headaches, her stomach always seemed to be queasy, and she was dealing with some intense bouts of insomnia (which she had never experienced as a child or even during her adult life). Her husband was increasingly worried about her. So much so that he would have her in his office every day for testing. At that point, he was looking for a dormant autoimmune disease, cancer, anything that would highlight these symptoms. What he wasn’t looking for was a pregnancy, a fertilized egg within his wife. 

One night, while the rest of the family was out hunting, Eloise and Carlisle were cuddling on the couch, her head in his lap. He was running his long, cool fingers through her hair and down her back, intermittently trying to coax her into eating a small piece of toast that he’d made for her. Yet every attempt didn’t do much. Regardless, he was hoping she would get her appetite back soon because her skin had started to take on a translucent pallor that he despised. 

“Come on, honey, just one bite. That’s all I’m asking for,” Carlisle said, putting the plate in front of her face. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m just not hungry. The entire idea of food is revolting. Plus, I don’t really want to repeat what happened a few hours ago.” Carlisle hummed in understanding. While he knew that Eloise was being sincere, he wasn’t pleased that she was still feeling so fatigued and nauseated. 

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A few hours ago, as he was attending to a broken rib of Seth’s at the reservation, he received a call from Alice. ‘Eloise has been throwing up for the last forty minutes, Carlisle. She didn’t want to worry you,’ she’d started. ‘But you need to get back here now. I’ve been sitting with her, and I’m worried she’s getting dehydrated.’ Heart in his throat, he quickly finished his session with Seth, letting him know that he had an emergency that he needed to attend to. 

After parking the car, he ran into the house, heading straight for his and Eloise’s bedroom. And when he walking into the adjoining bathroom, he was shocked by what he saw: his wife, her cheek smashed against the toilet seat, breathing heavily in order to avoid another onset of nausea. In his peripheral, he saw Alice lightly rubbing Eloise’s back with her left hand and murmuring comforting words to her. 

Instinctively, Carlisle  moved towards his wife and took Alice’s place as the caretaker. “Hi, sweetheart. Alice called and said you weren’t feeling well. Can you tell me what’s been bothering you?” he asked, gently kneading the taut muscles in her lean back. 

Eloise slowly pulled her face away from the toilet bowl and looked at him blearily. “My stomach just isn’t feeling super fantastic at the moment. I don’t know why, but I can’t seem to keep anything down. I haven’t been able to since about two o’clock this afternoon.”

“Well, you haven’t been at your best recently. Do you think that may have something to do with it?”

“Perhaps. But I haven’t had this happen before. Yes, I’ve experienced nausea and some stomach cramping, but it never ended with me vomiting for hours on end.”

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

And that was what still puzzled Carlisle in this moment. Why was this happening to her when nothing was physically wrong? She didn’t have AGID nor was there any evidence of malignant tumor growth. She wasn’t running a fever nor was she displaying any signs of infection. So what could it be? He was determined to find out. 

He lightly ran the pad of his right thumb over Eloise’s cheek. “Sweet girl, I think it’s time that I do an ultrasound on your stomach. Maybe that will give us some answers. What do you say?” 

“Alright. You’ll probably have to carry me though. I haven’t been doing well vertically,” she said, slightly smiling. 

“Your wish is my command.” 

He proceeded to carefully--oh, so carefully--move her head off his lap and onto a pillow (as a replacement). Then, when he was completely erect, he swiftly leaned forward and placed his forearms underneath Eloise’s lumbar vertebrae and upper thighs. Once she was secured in his arms, he gently kissed her cheek and proceeded to move them into his office, the one room in the house both of them have grown to resent. 

Placing her on the exam table, he grazed his hand through her bangs in the hope of soothing the anxiety that was coursing through her. “It’ll be alright. You know I would never hurt you. Never.”

“I know. It’s not that. I just don’t want anything to be wrong. I want to be healthy,” she said, her voice on the verge of breaking. 

“You will be. I’ll make sure of it,” Carlisle responds as he pressed his forehead against hers. 

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

Eloise smiled wanly as her husband went through his check-up regimen: ears, eyes, nose, throat, body temperature, blood pressure, then reflexes. While she may complain every now and then about his overprotectiveness, she really does feel so grateful and lucky to be married to a man whose compassion and kindness are limitless. This man always makes her feel valued, appreciated, and heard, especially apart from the rest of the world. And these are things that will never go unnoticed by her. He will never go unnoticed by her. 

“How are things looking, Doctor Cullen?” she asked. “Am I passing inspection?”

Carlisle lightly laughed at her attempt at a joke. “So far things are looking good. I think we’re about ready to do the abdominal ultrasound and see what things are looking like down there.”

He moved over to his white, sterile metal cart that held the handheld ultrasound. The plan was for Carlisle to put the clear lubricant on her belly, place the ultrasound on it, and then wait for the image to connect to the screen to his right. From there, he’ll see if there are any obstructions or issues. 

“Are you ready, honey?” he asked. “If it’s too cold, just let me know.” 

Eloise held her two thumbs up. “I’m ready. Let’s do it.”

The exam began. For a period of time, the sound and echo waves were all they could hear. Eloise was holding her breath. Carlisle’s face was pinched, his eyes and ears hyper-focused on the task. Until the heartbeat-like echo struck back at them. 

His wife lifted her hand to stop him from continuing with the examination. “What was that?” she queried. 

“I don’t know, darling. I don’t know.” he said. “Let’s try again and see if we get the same feedback.”

He continued his inspection but still received the same results. The heartbeat was unlike any he heard before (besides his wife’s): strong, pure, yet calm in its essence. Before he could ponder any other reasonings behind this strange occurrence, Eloise interrupted him. “Carlisle, we both know that’s a heartbeat. You can question it and try to find other avenues to follow, but you know the truth. And a heartbeat can only mean one thing,” she smiled, so big that her dimples were more pronounced than ever before. “We’re pregnant. My magic enabled us to create a baby.”

He took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “We don’t know that.”

“But we do. Carlisle, all the signs have been pretty prevalent these last few weeks. I just never thought to associate them with pregnancy because we agreed we would wait to start trying. I guess the universe had other plans.” 

“Eloise, honey…”

“You know it’s true. I do because I can feel our child. Now, after all this time, he or she has decided to make their presence known. The energy I feel--the positivity and contentment I’m now carrying in this moment--is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.” 

Carlisle looked at her, stunned. If she can feel their child, how could he dispute that? How could he challenge what she (and he) knew to be true in all its unlikelihood? It wasn’t like this was entirely impossible, especially after reading about other couples’ experiences. Couples like them. 

Eloise took his moment of consideration to move his hand to her tummy. “I know it’s hard to come to terms with right now because we weren’t sure how true the reports were, but I think it’s time we start believing in them. Carlisle, you’re going to be a father, and I’m going to be a mother. We’re going to finally have the opportunity to expand our family.” 

Hearing those words made Carlisle outright grin. They had been waiting for this moment for so long that he never believed it would ever actually happen. But now, he has everything he could ever want in the palm of his hand. 

“Well, it would appear that way,” he said, leaning over his wife to give her a heart-stopping kiss. “And I must add that I’m excruciatingly happy. Thank you, sweetheart.” 

[kikis-writing-world]

Passing the Test

Summary: Marcus finds a used pregnancy test in the bathroom trash... but it isn’t yours.

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x F!Reader, heavily familiar relationship between teenage Missy and Reader.

Word Count: 2.6k plus ~500 bonus scene

Rating/Warnings: Non-explicit talk of sex (parent/child safe sex discussion,) Pregnancy scares, discussions of having children, mentions of birth control, pills and doctors. Fainting. It’s tame in the sense of content rating, but I know these can be triggering topics to some. Take care of yourselves <3

It was a simple, normal Sunday morning… right up until it wasn’t.

Breakfast was wrapping up. Missy was picking at her plate, slowly finishing up her waffles as her teenage brain woke-up. Marcus had finished quickly, starving after his early morning run. You’d already eaten and were already started on washing up. Marcus dropped his plate off with you at the sink, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he thanked you for breakfast before taking off towards the bathroom to shower.

You didn’t hear the shower turn on as you expected, instead hearing Marcus making his way back down the hall to the kitchen.

“Uh… sweetheart? W-what’s this?” Your brow furrowed as you looked over your shoulder to see what your husband was talking about. His voice was small, almost panicked, and you didn’t know what would cause him to have that reaction. He was the one in the house who killed any bugs that showed up and you’d never had a rodent problem. You were wondering what he could have found in the bathroom until you saw the plastic stick he was holding.

Your breath caught in your throat, immediately recognizing the pregnancy test. As a woman, you’d taken them before. Accidents happen, sometimes stress or illness delays nature’s flow, you’d been there. However, you hadn’t been there recently.

You glanced at Missy, seeing it written all over the girl’s face. She was frozen, mortified. She looked like she’d forgotten how to breathe. To be fair, you felt like you’d forgotten how to breathe too. You looked back at Marcus, but his eyes had never left you. The loving, doting father hadn’t even considered the other option in front of him and honestly you didn’t know if you could break the news to him.

“Oh, uh.” You stuttered as you tried to wrap your brain around all the new information thrown your way.

Missy was sexually active. She was 17, it wasn’t surprising, but she hadn’t brought it up. You weren’t sure you had expected her to but you had tried to make it clear as she grew that you would be there for her if she needed a woman to talk to instead of her father. Not only was she having sex, but she’d had a scare. Was she late? Did the condom break - please lord, you prayed, let her be using condoms. Was she… You were too young to be a grandmother. A step-grandmother. Was that even a thing?

As you processed everything, Marcus crossed the kitchen to you while Missy had slunk down in her chair about as low as she could go.

“Did you think... “ He trailed off, his voice soft. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You opened and closed your mouth, looking for the right way to answer this. You hadn’t said anything because you’d had no idea someone in the house had taken a test!

“I wasn’t sure.” You mumbled, mouth going dry as you didn’t correct his assumption. One step at a time.

First, find out what the result of that test is.

Second, have a long, long, long talk with Missy about many, many things. Safe sex and hiding things we don’t want to be found among them.

Third… make brain work again? You had no idea where to go from there, but you supposed step three would become clear from the results of steps one and two.

Then, there was the issue literally staring you in the face. Marcus. The two of you had talked about children earlier on in the relationship as things grew serious. He told you that he wasn’t ready for more and you accepted that. You loved Missy and loved having a piece of her to share as you three became a family unit. The topic never came up again, so you just assumed Marcus didn’t want another child. You’d stayed on the pill and that was that. You always thought that if he changed his mind, he’d bring it up. It wasn’t something hidden. He saw your pack of pills on the nightstand that you took daily, and you’d even mentioned aloud a few times when you needed to get them refilled. There was plenty of opportunity for him to bring it up if he thought maybe you should go off them.

“You still could have talked to me. I would have sat with you or something.” Marcus told you, setting the test down on the counter to take both of your hands in his. 

You stared at the little piece of plastic, mentally thanking whoever was listening that Missy had splurged for the digital type. The word “negative’ sprawled on the screen, and you didn’t have to try to subtly decipher whether you were hoping for one line or two. You felt like you could breathe again.

“It wasn’t a big deal.” You shook your head. “Just late, wanted to make sure.”

You saw Missy gaping at you out of the corner of your eye, clearly surprised you were taking the fall for her.

“How did you feel? About the result?” He asked gently, this thumb stroking the back of your hand. 

“Maybe we should talk about this later,” you suggested, letting your eyes shoot in the direction of the teenager at the table, hoping Marcus would get that you’d rather talk in private. You’d also rather have a bit of time to wrap your head around everything that was just dropped on you.

Marcus’ eyes moved with yours, seeing Missy slumped in her seat making herself as small as possible. “Okay. We’ll talk later.” He promised, kissing your forehead.

You nodded in agreement and he squeezed your hands before letting them drop. As he left to take that shower, the tension in the room was palpable.

Missy started to speak but you shushed her, raising a finger in her direction while still watching down the hallway. “Wait til he starts the shower. Then we’ll talk.” You instructed quietly, glancing her way. 

Part of you felt bad for the girl, she looked absolutely mortified - and you’d seen her look plenty embarrassed before by her father’s helicopter parenting and bad jokes. On the other hand however, if she was old enough to need that test, she’d have to take this talk like an adult.

Neither of you moved until the shower started. As soon as you heard the water in the pipes, you marched to the table and sat next to her.

“I’m sorry-”

“What’s going on, Missy?” You interrupted the girl’s plea. “Don’t you dare lie to me after I covered for you with your dad. Why did you take that test?”

She stared down at the tabletop, blinking rapidly as she fought the tears welling in her eyes. “I’m late.” She admitted.

“How late?”

“Just a few days.”

“And how long have you been having sex for?”

She looked up at you, face turning red.

“No, no, no.” You chided. “You want to act grown, we’re gonna talk like you’re grown. How long?”

“Couple of months.” She mumbled, shrugging as she avoided looking you in the eye.

“Are you being safe? Condoms, birth control?”

“Condoms.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank god.”

“I’m not stupid, you know.” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh, I beg to differ.” You huffed. “If you were smart you would have hidden that test so your dad didn’t find it.”

“I’m sorry!” She cried, tightening her grip on herself. “I was just so relieved it came out negative, I didn’t think...”

You took a deep breath, rubbing the bridge of your nose. You knew you needed to be smart about how you talked to Missy. If you were too harsh, she wouldn’t come to you in the future. If you were too lenient, she’d think a pregnancy scare at her age was no big deal and she might continue to be careless.

“Missy,” you started. “I really wish you would have come to me about this.”

“I didn’t want you to get mad. Or tell dad.” She admitted, still staring down at the table.

“You’re lucky he’s a definition himbo.” You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

She shot you a look, brows furrowed. “Nobody says that anymore.” She grumbled, making you sigh. Teenagers.

“That’s not the point.” You shook your head. “Missy, I wouldn’t have gotten mad. I probably would have asked questions, but I would have been there for you, helped you through it. I’ve been there, I know how scary it is.”

Missy nodded as you saw a tear roll down her cheek. You reached over and took her hand in your own.

“Did you only take one test?” You asked, which she answered with a nod.

“Okay. I’ll go out later today to get another, just so we can be sure. Then Monday I think we should make an appointment about getting on you some form of birth control.” You planned.

“There’s more than one kind?” Missy mumbled.

“Oh hon, yeah there’s a few.” You smiled gently, trying not to make fun of the girl for her lack of knowledge. “I can see if my doctor has an opening if you want, she’s really great.”

Missy nodded. You reached over with your free hand to rub her arm comfortingly. “Until we get that sorted, can you try to… hold off for a bit?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” She rolled her eyes, wiping away her tears. “This whole thing kinda scared me off of... it.”

“I wish that would last,” you chuckled, “but it won’t. Teenage hormones suck.”

The silence that settled between you two wasn’t wrought with the same tension as before. The tension this time was of nerves, you scared for your step-daughter and Missy shaken up by her whole ordeal.

“Do you have any questions, anything you’re confused about?” You prompted, trying to open the floor to her.

“Are you gonna tell Dad?” She asked quietly. So quietly you almost didn’t hear her.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you tried to think about it. One on hand, you didn’t want to be keeping anything from Marcus, especially when it came to his daughter. On the other hand, you knew you were lucky your mother had been around to deal with this part of your life. You would have been mortified having to go to your father for sex stuff.

“I won’t tell him,” you decided. The relief in the teen’s eyes was palpable, and she looked like she was going to cry again. “But you have to promise me that you’ll talk to an adult about things like this. You can always come to me, but if you’re not comfortable with that-”

“No, now that I know you’re not gonna tell dad-” Missy started, but you cut her off firmly but gently.

“Let me finish. I’m glad you’re comfortable talking to me now, but if you ever aren’t, please talk to your Abuela or the doctor, or a counsellor at school, okay? I know you’re 17 and you think you know everything. I was the same way, everyone is at your age, but an adult can help you with this stuff, okay?”

Missy agreed as the two of you heard the shower shut off. You fought the urge to sigh as you remembered the other side of this coin: the conversation you had to have with Marcus now.

“Why don’t you go clean up?” You offered, wiping away the rest of Missy’s tears with your thumb. “I’m already lying to your father for you, I don’t need to explain to him why you were crying too.”

Missy laughed a little at that, a small pitiful laugh but a laugh all the same. She stood, wrapping her arms around you. You were surprised, but you returned the hug.

“Thank you.” She whispered before running off to her room. The door closed behind her and it didn’t take long for loud music to start playing.

You slumped down, resting your head in your hands as you took several deep breaths. You gave yourself a pep talk in your head, convincing yourself you’re doing the right thing by keeping this from Marcus, and encouraging yourself that you handled the situation well. You went over the plan again in your head, pretty sure you had your bases covered to take care of Missy in light of the scare. Once you’d gotten her in with the doctor, you’d have a more in depth talk with her about safe sex and being responsible with her body.

You heard Marcus’ footsteps, soft against the carpet of the hallway carpet, before he paused at the entrance to the kitchen.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked, coming up to rest his hands on your shoulders.

“Yeah, I think I just feel a headache coming on.” You told him, which wasn’t untrue. You could definitely feel the beginnings of a stress headache prickling at the edges of your consciousness.

Marcus’ large hands started massaging your shoulders, making you groan softly in delight.

“Is it because…” He trailed off, but he didn’t need to continue for you to know he meant the test. He’d probably been thinking about it the whole time he was in the shower, and it was probably best to get this conversation out of the way rather than to let it fester. You nodded, letting him know it was - which wasn’t a lie.

His hands stopped massaging your shoulders, running up and down your arms a few times before he sat next to you in the chair Missy had just vacated.

“I’m sorry you went through that alone,” he started, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. It made you smile at his sweetness.

“It was my choice. I’m sorry I kept it from you.” You knew at this point the two of you were having two different conversations, you were apologizing for keeping Missy’s secret from him but you did truly believe it to be the right decision. At least for now. Maybe someday when she’s older and out of the house, you’d tell him and laugh.

“We’ve never really talked about it. Not since the beginning.” Marcus got a faraway look in his eyes and you knew he was remembering the date you two had been on when the conversation was had.

“Yeah, but that’s okay.” You squeezed his hand, bringing him back to the now. “I like what we have.”

Marcus frowned, his deep brown eyes filled with worry not unlike Missy’s had been minutes before. “Are you sure? I saw the test and… I just suddenly felt like I was holding you back. If that’s something you want, we should discuss it.”

“And if it was something I felt strongly about, I would have brought it up.” You promised him. You knew right from the start of your relationship he was worried about holding you back. You were younger than him with the world at your feet. He was a widowed single father with a young daughter and a career in fighting supervillains and aliens. He didn’t just have baggage, he had a storage locker of issues.

“Alright.” Marcus sighed, but you could still see the trepidation in his eyes. You smiled at him, pulling him into a kiss.

“Don’t worry babe, I don’t think I could handle another teenager.” You teased. Today was probably one of the most difficult moments you’d had as a step-mother aside from the initial growing pains of your relationship with Missy, but you’d all survived it.

Marcus laughed and you were happy to see a joyful sparkle replace the worry in his eyes. “Yeah, tell me about it.” He glanced towards Missy’s room where her loud music was still blaring. He shook his head before standing, picking up Missy’s abandoned plate. You expected him to take it to the sink but he stopped behind you, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Although, they’re really stinkin’ adorable when they’re babies.” He confessed, shocking you into silence. He kissed the side of your head and moved to the sink to wash Missy’s plate.

Or it could have gone something like this...

You were sitting at the edge of your bed, stretching as you woke up for the day. Marcus had opened the curtains a crack before he left for his run and you could see it was going to be a beautiful day out. You stood slowly, unrolling your spine as you got your balance.

You heard the front door open and close. You must have slept in later than you’d meant to since you usually had breakfast ready by the time Marcus got back from his run. Or he’d left earlier than usual. Either way, that just meant he could shower while you were cooking. You blinked your bleary eyes as you crossed to your dresser for some lounge clothes to wear. You were in one of Marcus’ old t-shirts and your underwear and figured you’d at least put some pants on before leaving the room.

You could hear him through the hall as he made his way to the bathroom, his footsteps falling a little heavier on the carpet after exerting himself, still panting lightly. You yawned away the sleep, struggling to keep your balance as you pulled a pair of plaid shorts up your legs. You’d just gotten them over your hips when the door opened.

You looked up, seeing Marcus still sweaty and flushed from his run. He was staring at something in his hand looking completely confused. You furrowed your brows, trying to focus on the small object as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

“Uh… sweetheart? W-what’s this?” He asked, holding it up for you to see. It took you a moment to register what the thin stick of plastic was.

“That’s not mine.” You defended. You were on the pill and hadn’t had any recent scares. If you had, you would have shared that with Marcus. But if it wasn’t yours...

Your eyes widened as your sleep-addled brain caught up to the real world. It felt like your heart stopped. Marcus seemed to have made the connection just before you did as he stared down at the test in terror.

“Marcus sweetie, it’s probably not what we think,” you tried to calm him as he turned bright red.

“No. N-no, no, no.” He stuttered, unable to take his eyes off it as his breathing started coming quicker and quicker.

“Marcus, you need to breathe. Relax.” You begged as you watched the emotions crossing his face at a dizzying pace. Fear, anger, confusion, hurt, anger again-

“Missy?” He squeaked pathetically, looking up at you in panic.

“She’s not a kid anymore, Marcus.” You offered pathetically. You knew Marcus would always see Missy as his little girl despite the fact that she was in her late teens. You’d had no idea she was sexually active but if she’d taken a pregnancy test that pretty much spoke for itself.

“But she-” He whimpered, shaking his head as he stared at the test. 

You bit your lip, searching for the words to help him accept this. You hadn’t even seen the test result yet, so you had no idea how big the problem was about to be.

You watched as his eyes unfocussed, nearly crossing before they rolled back. If you were awake, you would have anticipated what happened next. Since you weren’t, you watched helplessly as Marcus face planted in front of you, passed out from the shock of his teenage daughter taking a pregnancy test.

So much for a relaxing Sunday.

A/N: I ended the “first ending” there so that each reader could decide if the conversation that followed would be “wait, we want kids? Let’s go!” or “Haha, babies can be cute as long as they’re not mine!” So feel free to let your imagination wander.

Tagging @wickedfrsgrl​ @din-damn-djarin​ @dinthisisthe-wayson​ @vonschweetz​ @insideafictionaluniverse​ @driedgreentomatoes​ @computeringturtle​

[writerwithfluffysocks]

BB Fic Rec List

Remember to kudos, like, favorite and review! Authors love that love and support for their work!

Most of these fics are rated T or M so if you're underage or that's not your thing then these probably won't be for you. Fics are broken down into categories to make it easier and each states number of chapters, rating and word count. Enjoy!

/

CANON FICS

A Dream Within a Dream by BlindAssassinUK (M, 25 chapters, 125k words)

Booth struggles to recover from his brain surgery and with Sweets' assessment that his feelings for Bones aren't real. As if this wasn't enough to keep our favourite FBI agent busy, a serial killer comes to town. Mostly written in tandem with Season 5.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5392047/1/A-Dream-Within-a-Dream

A Lotta Heart by nelliesbones (M, 10 chapters, 18k words)

"Bones, she believes in the system." Except that she didn't. Not completely. Not anymore... This is a story about a woman protecting her family. A story about the man who loves her. Spoilerfree, warm-hearted and M for a reason.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8186135/1/A-Lotta-Heart

An Aggregation of Maladjusted Companions by Jazzyproz (M, 43 chapters, 250k words)

Suffering from a declining solve rate following their returns to DC, Booth and Brennan are forced to attend a team-building convention. Neither of them think they need the workshops or exercises, but it's apparent to everyone around them that if they don't do something, the whole team will soon be falling apart. Can they fix their broken partnership?

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11132403/1/An-Aggregation-of-Maladjusted-Companions

An Unexpected Outcome by BB-loverr (M, 5 chapters, 8k)

Before she could do anything Booth had her pinned. He made sure most of his weight was on his elbows so he wasn't crushing her. Someone is after Bones & Booth is protecting her. Set in early season 5

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5590619/1/An-Unexpected-Outcome

Becoming One by nelliesbones (M, 21 chapters, 83k) 

He is handsome, she is beautiful, and somewhere in between… they have made a baby. Warm-hearted and M for a reason. Slightly spoiler-y AN's, the story itself is spoilerfree.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7012130/1/Becoming-One

By Any Means Necessary by Heather Wyatt (M, 45 chapters, 433k, DARKER FIC)

When an overseas trip for Brennan leaves her in terrible danger, Booth does what is necessary to save her - even if what he is forced to do has the potential to drive her away from him forever. Set in season 5, pre-100th; Inspired by the movie "Taken".

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11549096/1/By-Any-Means-Necessary

Can You Save Her, Agent Booth? by Jazzyproz (M, 62 chapters, 464k)

Booth receives a disturbing text in the middle of the night aboout Bones - will he be able to find her in time? Or will he lose her forever? Will this guy really kill her, or is it just a bluff?

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7723263/1/Can-You-Save-Her-Agent-Booth

Coitus by willgirl (M, 5 chapters, 4k)

After a date, Brennan finds herself unexpectedly at Booth's door. B&B, Rated M for Smut!

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4126515/1/Coitus

First a Dream by Firstadream (M, 17 chapters, 53k)

"I don't want you to move on..." Post 5x16 story. What should've happened between Booth and Brennan.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5900783/1/First-A-Dream

For You, I’d Bleed Myself Dry by coffeehelps (M, 1 chapter, 11k)

The night that Booth took a bullet for Brennan in front of that karaoke stage was forever ingrained in Brennan's mind. Every year, on the anniversary of that night, Brennan experiences those volatile feelings all over again… and they help her realize just how much Booth means to her.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13382298/1/for-you-i-d-bleed-myself-dry

Learning to Fly by Shelly (T, 3 chapters, 8k)

It was never his intention to hurt her. And, yet, she was sitting on the edge of the tub, his bathrobe consuming her small frame, tears cascading down her cheeks. He didn't know how to fix this. Post "The End in the Beginning."

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5231358/1/Learning-to-Fly

Recklessness and Repercussions by Nothing But Bones (M, 7 chapters, 29k)

Booth overhears one of his colleagues crudely reliving an intimate rendezvous with Brennan, and his ill-conceived reaction threatens to end their partnership on a permanent basis, leaving their emotions running dangerously high.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4605409/1/Recklessness-Repercussions

This Secret Dance by ALottaHeart (M, 14 chapters, 43k)

But this secret dance, it goes on. This. This is for them, between them, and they're not ready to share that with the world. Not yet. They've waited too long. Booth/Brennan. Spoilers for 100th episode.

CASE FICS

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6062651/1/This-Secret-Dance

/

Bone of Contention by Mochi-girl (M, 15 chapters, 33k)

During a murder investigation, a man from Brennan's past returns, and spins her relationship with Booth in a new direction.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5558981/1/Bone-of-Contention

Case File 2010c by lexeb (M, 1 chapter, 40k)

Booth and Bones face their worst case to date. Will our duo catch their man? Dark themes and imagery. Note rating. Written as an episode. Most characters appear.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5789374/1/Case-File-2010C

Crimson Catastrophe by Dangereux (M, 5 chapters, 24k)

Booth and Brennan work a case that pushes them both to their limits, and into each other's arms.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5929308/1/Crimson-Catastrophe

Fear and Faith by Some1tookmyname (M, 35 chapters, 59k)

When a suspicious note is discovered in an unexpected place, Booth and Brennan fight against an unknown enemy to protect the life they've built together.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7981371/1/Fear-and-Faith

Getting Clean by blc (M, 1 chapter, 11k)

Brennan feels soiled after catching a serial killer. Booth helps her get clean again. Long Angst/Romance

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4621793/1/Getting-Clean

Hearts in Overdrive by Christi Whitson (M, 22 chapters, 136k)

After stumbling upon the suspicious deaths of two men from Brennan's past, she is determined to learn the truth about how they died. Booth and Brennan deal with the emotional fallout of their discoveries as the events of S3 unfold.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12190876/1/Hearts-in-Overdrive

The Effects of the Fan by gatewatcher (T, 1 chapter, 9k)

Someone is stalking Brennan. Will Booth be able to keep her safe? What will the effects be from his attempt?

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12568373/1/The-Effects-of-the-Fan

The Gentleman in the Club by TheModernLeper (M, 11 chapters, 10k)

The team tracks a serial killer to a popular night club. With Brennan as bait, can Booth and the team keep her from becoming his next victim?

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4764864/1/The-Gentleman-in-the-Club

The Remains in the Rain by forensicsfan (T, 45 chapters, 70k)

What starts out as a trip to Seattle to promote Brennan's latest book turns into much more as secrets surface in flood waters and Booth and Brennan find that a few of their own secrets surface in the process.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3934573/1/The-Remains-in-the-Rain

The Two in One in the Park by ShaViva (T, 17 chapters, 80k)

Brennan and Booth are called in to investigate the remains of two victims arranged to portray a killer's twisted vision of a romantic forever. As they close in on the culprit they find themselves closing in on each other as well. AU early season 6. B&B

AU FICS

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6054481/1/The-Two-in-One-in-the-Park

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All My Yesterdays by cardiogod (M, 36 chapters, 134k)

Booth has been taught since early childhood that a wise man builds his house on rock, not sand, but it isn't until the ground starts shifting under him that he realizes he never learned how to tell them apart.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7801702/1/All-My-Yesterdays

Burdens Which Allow Us To Fly by Mis Chi Evous (T, 1 chapter, 9k)

An alternate universe, where Brennan's parents are both killed, and Russ is in the Army with Booth. A study in how some things are meant to be.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6290511/1/Burdens-Which-Allow-Us-To-Fly

Desert Storm by Alonzo Anonymouse (M, 12 chapters, 13k)

Operation Desert Storm: Sergeant Seeley Booth was captured and tortured. His first assignment back is to stand guard over an Anthropology professor and his grad students, sent to identify bodies. One of those students is Temperance Brennan.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6032735/1/Desert-Storm

Hostile Takeover by F.H. Blake (M, 22 chapters, 70k)

Booth is a billionaire businessman hell-bent on buying Bones' club, The Lab. Bones is hell-bent on keeping Booth as far away from her club as possible. The two worlds collide one night over too many shots, and Booth and Bones soon realise that enemies don't constantly want to rip each other's clothes off.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12538952/1/Hostile-Takeover

Killing Two Birds by dmnky (M, 34 chapters, 171k)

After six months in Maluku, Brennan is summoned to Afghanistan to identify remains from a military helicopter crash and assist Sgt. Maj. Booth in investigating the cause of it.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7710873/1/Killing-Two-Birds

The Couple in the Alternate Universe by perscribo (M, 12 chapters, 22k)

Booth and Brennan are not who we know them to be. One is on the right side of the law and the other isn't. Their love story under conflicting circumstances.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12583235/1/The-Couple-in-the-Alternate-Universe

His by Athena Alexandria (T, 40 chapters, 99k)

AU. Post The Critic in the Cabernet. Booth struggles with his decision to let Brennan raise their child alone after she uses his sperm to get pregnant.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6660822/1/His

The Opportunity by BtrixMcG (M, 8 chapters, 49k)

AU: Seeley Booth is the CEO of a prominent communications company and one of the most powerful men in the industry. Temperance Brennan is a brilliant young analyst who comes into his employ and gets far more than she bargained for.

COLLEGE/HIGH SCHOOL AU FICS

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6582371/1/The-Opportunity

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Follow You Down by ButterflyWhisperer (T, 26 chapters, 85k)

The year is 1989 and our favorite group of crime fighters meet 16 years prior to 2005. Temperance Brennan is a lonely foster kid that just moved to D.C while Seeley Booth is battling demons from his past. What happens when this unlikely pair of teenagers & their friends end up trying to solve a murder their favorite teacher was framed for? And will love blossom?

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10640406/1/Follow-You-Down

Healing Two Souls by cmol8806 (M, 43 chapters, 146k)

Temperance Brennan is almost eighteen and entering her last foster home after barely surviving her last one. Seeley Booth is just returned from war, with new nightmares. What happens when they meet?

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6867582/1/Healing-Two-Souls

Purak: A Less Cheesy Way of Saying You Complete Me by boothaddict77 (T, 35 chapters, 163k)

14-year-old Tempe Brennan, recently abandoned by her parents, moves into a new home with her brother and his friend. Of course, the young man they will be sharing a roof with is none other than Seeley Booth.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7764189/1/Purak-A-Less-Cheesy-Way-of-Saying-You-Complete-Me

White Knight by LordLanceahlot (M, 17 chapters, 52k)

Temperance 'I-don't-know-what-that-means' Brennan. At a fraternity party. Drinking heavily and being mauled by some punk frat boys. Booth scowled at the thought. His freaking forensics tutor. Time to go play white knight.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5785872/1/White-Knight

Beginning of Forever by JulesSC (M, 37 chapters, 301k)

Chicago, 1988. Tempe, 14 year old foster child. Seeley, 16 year old jaded junior. Can these two help each other and change each other's lives?

SMUT HEAVY FICS

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6346762/1/Beginning-of-Forever

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Any Way She Wants It by sleeplessinatlanta (M, 7 chapters, 33k)

When Booth's prodding makes Brennan snap and reveal the extent of her frustrations, he offers to help her out. He thinks, he can handle it, but nothing is ever that simple.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6343873/1/Any-Way-She-Wants-It

Bad Excuses by Pereybere (M, 4 chapters, 7k)

Brennan and Booth are using work stress as an excuse to get naughty.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4134057/1/Bad-Excuses

Breaking All The Rules Tonight by sleeplessinatlanta (M, 25 chapters, 57k)

Brennan tells Booth she has a sex date and he doesn't take it very well. He's determined to show her why she should be his.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5303079/1/Breaking-all-the-Rules-Tonight

Silent Surrender by sleeplessinatlanta (M, 25 chapters, 27k)

Brennan shows up at Booth's house needing only one thing: him. One silent night could never be enough but it's months later and they still find themselves going crazy at night and pretending during the day. How much longer can they keep silent?

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5398682/1/Silent-Surrender

Exercise in Self Restraint by sleeplessinatlanta (M, 8 chapters, 30k)

B&B are in an established relationship and Brennan has a naughty proposal for Booth which involves tons of frustration.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5617523/1/Exercise-in-Self-Restraint

Fighting Words by sleeplessinatlanta (M, 26 chapters, 71k)

Collection of one-shots. Some heated words, an argument, and tons of B/B hotness.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5448139/1/Fighting-Words

Hours by Dispatch22705 (M, 25 chapters, 47k)

A look at 24 different sexy times between Booth and Brennan. One post for every hour.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7506156/1/Hours

Colors by Dispatch22705 (M, 12 chapters, 50k)

12 separate one shots: each one based on a color idea.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5845810/1/Colors

Rooftops and Invitations by Space77 (M, 5 chapters, 17k)

You can’t stop thinking about him, you can’t stop looking at him. So do something about it.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4516879/1/Rooftops-and-Invitations

Talk to Me by SSJL (M, 31 chapters, 118k)

All he wanted was a moment of honesty from her. All she wanted was to be able to give him this.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3458085/1/Talk-to-Me

Morning, Nooner and Night by Dispatch22705 (M, 1 chapter, 9k)

A 'one shot' so to speak, of a few firsts between Booth and Brennan. He made love to her in the morning, had sex with her at noon and broke a few laws with her at night.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7239541/1/Morning-Nooner-and-Night

Only Between Us by sleeplessinatlanta (M, 100 chapters, 142k)

Collection of one-shots, some really short, others longer. Some funny, some angsty, some sweet. But ALL should be steamy/sexy/sweet. ALL revolving around B/B and their smoking hot dynamic.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5329849/1/Only-Between-Us

Alphabet by OrigamiFlower (M, 15 chapters, 22k)

A whole load of one shots of Booth and Brennan dedicated to the Alphabet.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6088489/1/Alphabet

Alphabet Recurrences by Dr Madness (M, 25 chapters, 51k)

The Alphabet means a lot to Booth and Brennan. It captures every single romantic, hot, steamy and dirty moment between them.

ONE-SHOT FICS

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5666368/1/Alphabet-recurrences

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A Family Business by nelliesbones (M, 14 chapters, 20k)

A story of one-shots and scenes around the beautiful and highly anticipated season seven of Bones.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7449862/1/A-Family-Business

An Epic Before Bed by eitoph (T, 1 chapter, 3k)

She's written this life and she's lived this life, and now she knows which one she prefers. 4.26/6.22/6.23 and how they all fit together.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7037787/1/An-Epic-Before-Bed

Anything by CupcakeBean (M, 1 chapter, 3k)

“I’ve flown across the country, pulled strings, broken the law, risked my career, risked my life, *lost* my life - all for her." Booth and Brennan realize how much they mean to each other and give in to their attraction.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4961754/1/Anything

Don’t Mess With Booth by Aisho9 (T, 1 chapter, 2k)

Caught in the middle of someone else's battle, Brennan is hurt. The perp is in hot water enough, but now he's got a pissed off Booth to deal with, too.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5869658/1/Don-t-Mess-With-The-Booth

Ferocious Love by rhyme time (M, 1 chapter, 1k)

Booth is feeling possessive of his wife.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9789714/1/Ferocious-Love

Lies and Life by Tadpole24 (T, 1 chapter, 1k)

“I’m not this person who can’t tell if it’s reality or fantasy and I’m not this person who shows up on someone’s door step, crying at 3 am. This is something Bren would do, not something Bones would.”

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5693685/1/Lies-and-Life

Pray for George who offends Booth and Brennan by Hannah Taylor1 (M, 1 chapter, 6k)

A cautionary tale for those who would cross Booth and his lady love.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5890044/1/Pray-for-George-who-offends-Booth-and-Brennan

The Finally in the Holding by carol204 (M, 1 chapter, 5k)

Booth appears in Brennan's house on a rainy night with unresolved issues. She's pushed him too far and now they've reached their breaking point.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6630976/1/The-Finally-to-the-Holding

The Standard by RositaLG (M, 1 chapter, 1k)

"Tell me again." He said, his voice strained with anger and his jaw ticking in restraint. "Tell me that you don't need me."

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7421321/1/The-Standard

We Belong Together by Dispatch22705 (M, 1 chapter, 5k)

While Booth is away, Brennan goes to a crime scene. Booth is furious when he finds out. When he calls her on it, it's in a place he wouldn't have expected, but is all so familiar to both of them. Angsty, angry sex but with a resolved B&B ending in bed

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5846725/1/We-Belong-Together

You With Me by mia101 (M, 1 chapter, 3k)

Takes place after Booth's fight in Vegas. Brennan is tending his injuries and recalling how it felt to watch him fight, wondering what it would be like if she were the kind of woman she's been pretending to be.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4224265/1/You-With-Me

[janekfan]

Duress

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30665933

As ever, Jon’s timing was impeccable.

Impeccably awful.

Barely a month into his new “promotion” and already he could feel a toll. If he was completely honest with himself he hadn’t expected quite this level of work despite not being a stranger to long hours. To put it bluntly, the archives were a mess. Gertrude hadn’t left any clues as to how filing was done and it all seemed so haphazard he had to wonder if it wasn’t on purpose. He was up to his elbows in files he’d found in a water stained cardboard box when Tim sauntered up, looking down his nose at the papers in disgust. Jon wished he would help and didn’t know how to ask for it with their relationship as strained as it currently was. Tim had silently allied with Sasha when Elias made the announcement and they were all navigating the current situation gingerly. Jon didn’t blame him. She needed support. The statements and recordings and organization could wait until they were ready.

“Hey there, boss. Was wondering if you wanted to come out with us tonight.”

Oh, of course. It was Friday, wasn’t it.

Jon looked around his office, strewn with papers and post-its and worse off than it was this morning. Guilt welled up in him like blood from a wound. Tim was losing his already limited patience with him.

“Uh, yes, that would be nice. It has been a while.” He leaned back and wiped his dusty hands off on his trousers adding to the light streaks already there.

“Yeah, I’ll say. Too important to hang out with us now, ey Jon? Now that you’re a corporate bigwig?”

“I am not!” Tim held his hands up in supplication.

“Just kidding, yeah?” It didn’t sound like it was just anything; certainly not the jokes Tim used to tell. This just felt cruel, probably because Tim thought it was the truth. Jon could admit he was prickly and difficult and knew he never won over many. If he lost Tim and Sasha over this he didn’t know what he would do. “Usual place.”

That exchange happened hours ago and Jon didn’t feel well. He couldn’t go out like this, pulse pounding, head throbbing, vision swimming. He’d have to cancel. But he’d canceled at the last minute on them so many times before and he could tell their patience was wearing thin. How was he supposed to choose between his new job and his old friends? Why couldn’t he just be normal for once?

Why did Tim choose now to forget this sometimes happened?

Any moment they’d be by to collect him and Jon was so dizzy he wasn’t altogether sure if he could stand. He hadn’t felt like this since Uni when he and Georgie spent many a late night studying for exams. He’d crashed shortly after, struck down with some illness or another, and barely remembered more than a glimpse of her face staring down at him with concern. Surely they would understand?

“Ready, boss?” Casual with his jacket over one shoulder, Tim leaned into the office, scowling when he laid eyes on him, exasperated. “Really, Jon?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Tim scoffed. “S’sorry. I know it’s rude, I’m just. Tired.” That was a part of it anyway.

“You know, Jon, you say you still want to be friends and then never hang out with us.”

“I know, I’m--”

“You’ve cancelled so many times at this point I don’t know if it’s even worth inviting you.” Jon’s heart nearly stopped, a painful lurch that all but choked him.

“...Please.” Bare more than a whisper, Tim raised an eyebrow in question.

“What?”

“P’please keep inviting me.” If Jon wasn’t so sure he’d pass out upon standing he’d be springing to his feet. “I, I, I’m there. Next Friday, bells on, I swear.”

“And tonight?” Cold sweat slipped down his spine. But if he rested this weekend, took it easy next week, maybe asked them for a bit more help-- “Sure, boss.”

The weekend came and went and Jon tried every trick in the small volume of self-care tips he actually paid attention to. He wanted to show them what they meant to him, even Martin, new and bungling as he was. If they were to be a team, he needed to get to know him. And besides, Sash and Tim enjoyed his company. Had been inviting him out the whole while. Unfortunately, Jon was still exhausted from not sleeping well for bad dreams and restlessness, not eating enough because anxiety turned his stomach. But he’d made a promise and he vowed to make good on it.

Monday saw a fresh pile of work stacked neatly in the center of his desk blotter, old assignments shoved off to the side and a note in Elias’ neat scrawl informing him that this was the priority. Jon spent the next hour putting together the things he’d been in the process of collating and jotting down a list of instructions that even Martin could follow before dragging it out to where his assistants were working.

“Hullo, Jon.” Bright and cheery, Martin chirped a greeting and Jon forced a small smile.

“Morning.” Tim and Sasha nodded back, expectant looks on their faces. “I, um. Well, Elias brought in some more documents for me to take a look at.”

“Promotion came with some extra obligations, did it?” Tim laughed, elbowing Sasha good naturedly.

“Yes, I suppose it, it did.” Jon shifted nervously, anticipating the answer even before he’d asked. “I was hoping you would be able to help me with these ones?” He lifted the stack and Tim made a show of whistling.

“Wow, I mean. I would, boss, but I’m in the middle of this other thing you gave me last week.”

“Oh. I was. Well I was rather hoping you’d have wrapped that up by now.” The room began to tunnel and Jon staggered just a step even though he was standing still. He hadn’t been able to use his cane and handle this veritable mountain.

“You and me both.”

“Jon?” Martin’s worry was more embarrassing than anything else and he forced himself to focus despite the trembling in his hands. “I can take some of them.” But the messy heap on the corner of his desk in danger of toppling hardly seemed smaller than it had the week before. It wouldn’t do to add even more to what the other man couldn’t seem to handle but...

“Th’thank you for the offer.” He selected a few slim folders and handed them off and somehow the work in his arms became heavier.

“No problem!” Martin was beaming so he must have done something right and it sparked a bit of warmth in him. “I’ll make an exchange for another, soon as I finish this up.”

Tuesday went much the same, though Jon’s insomnia and sore joints forced him out of bed and he decided to use the gift of time to come in early to get a bigger start on the old mess so he had more time for the new mess and while Martin was slow it helped to have someone else tackling it with him. He suspected that Tim and Sasha were making a statement in their being shiftless and Jon couldn’t find it in himself to address it instead hoping that once he proved himself they could move past it. Using the stairs proved foolish as Jon nearly took a header from vertigo and he thanked the stars he was early and alone so he could sit down and wait for the episode to pass. Lord, he hurt. Joints on fire, white-hot fire pokers of pressure needling his hips. He hung his head when tears of frustration began to fall.

Wednesday found Jon buried alive and struggling. He had to stay late in order to finish out the day and by the time he made it home he could barely stand, falling into bed and waking the next morning still dressed in his wingtips and work clothes. Marginally better for the rest, Jon used the boon to plow through the rest of Elias’ assignment, skipping lunch he knew he wouldn’t eat anyway to finish.

“Oh, Tim!” He called out his door as he passed, relieved that he wasn’t ignored. “When you have a moment could you take these up to Rosie?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Jon pushed away the disappointment when the end of day came, his assistants left, and the box still sat on the corner of his desk.

No bother, Tim probably forgot and Jon searched the stacks for the department’s hand truck with its one sticky wheel and found it loaded up with more of Gertrude’s chaos. He didn’t have much choice than to shove at it unceremoniously until it toppled over, papers fluttering out of their folders and under shelves. He’d just have to deal with it later. What’s one more thing? When he tugged, his shoulder very nearly came loose and his yelp of pain was swallowed up in the dark and the dust. Noone around to hear him anyway.

More tears.

He was a mess.

He went along more carefully, cursing the squeak of the blasted wheel, cursing Tim for his forgetfulness, cursing Elias for letting him even steal the job from Sasha to begin with. Cursing time itself because he wanted to go home and it was already an hour past.

“Rosie, I’m so glad I caught you.” She was just starting to collect her bag. “Can I leave this for Elias to collect when he gets in?”

“Of course, Jon!” She helped him lift it to her desk and disguised his taking a rest with interest in her writing a note of explanation.

“Thank you, you really are a lifesaver.” Jon chuffed a weak and humourless laugh. “I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Of course, dear. Just take that along with you so I don’t have to hear about it from the night staff.” The dolly. Yes. It would have to go back down with him wouldn’t it?

Thursday Jon could barely lift his arms. The debacle from the day before had taken whatever they had left and he was scared that at any moment, his arm would drop from its socket. That happened sometimes. So far, no doctor had figured out why.

“Ready for tomorrow?” Tim jolted him out of staring at his pen cup and the surprise set his heart to racing. Jon didn’t know how many minutes he’d lost.

“Ah, uh.” Absently, he rubbed at his chest, willing the battering tempo to slow before it shook him apart.

“Boss.” It sounded too much like a warning and felt too much like his last chance to prove he had what it took to be their friend.

“I’m not backing out!” Quick to cover up his fumble. “Don’t forget to collect me.”

“Never!” Jon couldn’t help but hope he did.

It was a short walk to their usual pub and Jon pushed himself to keep up, breaking out in cold sweat as the nausea from his laboring heart rocked his stomach. He couldn’t wait to sit down. They were regulars enough that the first round appeared before them as if by magic. Jon sank into the conversation around him, sipping from his pint, wishing it was water, and interjecting when he felt up to it. Martin kept staring at him. Jon didn’t have the energy to pretend.

“Oh come on, boss! Our company can’t be that boring!” Tim was three drinks in and clapped Jon hard enough on the shoulder to rattle his bones. Jon bit his tongue so hard he tasted iron.

“Ah, no, just a long week.” His voice was papery as a wasp nest, thin and drawn. “Looking forward to a lie in.”

“Aren’t we all?” Tim drained his glass and Jon looked down at the worn scratched surface of the table to hide his irrational irritability with the statement. He didn’t corner the market on sleeping in. The others deserved a restful weekend just as much as he did.

“I’m surprised you managed to make it through Elias’ busy work.” Sasha murmured, selecting a chip and using it as a means for sauce delivery.

“Martin helped a great deal.”

“That’s kind of you to say, Jon, but we know who worked his way through the majority.” They exchanged a warm smile.

“Yes, well. Any you did, I didn’t have to. It was very much appreciated.” Martin was bright red and Jon’s cheeks were warm, from alcohol or otherwise, and Tim’s cawing laughter rang bright as a bell over the cacophony around them.

“You’ve broken him, Jon!” They caroused well into the evening until Martin mercifully faked a yawn and explained he had an early morning. Jon almost hugged him and if it weren’t for the state of his shoddy joints he may well have. Holding up a very drunk and very affectionate Tim, Sasha nodded to him.

“This was lovely.” Her grin beamed. “We’ll have to do this again.”

Jon dreaded it.

That month they dragged Jon out to the shops for lunch a few times each week. Catching dinner after work became a regular occurance. Sasha hosted a movie night one weekend. Friday nights at the pub continued.

Jon wasn’t sure which was worse; the exhaustion or the steadily increasing pain, but it felt worth it when the frosty attitude began to thaw. They were still friends. That’s what counted even though the littlest tasks had become huge when faced with choosing which ones to do at the cost of himself. He knew better and still he was overspending, going into the red just to collect more and more debt with no way to catch up other than lose his friends. Something was going to break. Jon hoped it wouldn’t be him.

Groggy, slow, Jon came to with his cheek mashed into the statement he’d been skimming. Something was...wrong. His heart. Racing, pounding against his breastbone, trying to hammer its way to freedom or jump straight out his throat. He blinked hard, trying to bring anything into focus and failing. The first attempt to stand had him face down on the desk again, the next he took in steps.

Sit up. Let the room stop moving.

Breathe. In. Out. Count them.

Ignore the agonized beating. Ignore the fear that came with it.

Stand. Slow. Wait. Patient.

Let the world fall still.

Jon didn’t bother picking up his bag. His phone, wallet, keys, all in his trouser pockets.

“Sorry all. I. I think.” He paused, gulping for air, swallowing none. “Need to go, go home.” If what made it out of him were even close to words he’d consider himself lucky. His tongue was thick and clumsy in his mouth, tripping up the syllables fighting their way past the rabbit-quick hammering,

hammering,

hammering.

“What’s wrong?” Sasha was at his elbow, Tim halfway out of his seat.

“Not feeling well.”

“You sure you can get home, boss?” Nodding absently Jon made his way carefully to the lift before Martin could offer to call him a cab or something equally ridiculous.

Muscle memory got him back to his flat and it wasn’t until he collapsed into bed that he remembered it was Friday and he’d again ducked out on drinks again. Tears collected on his lashes, slipping down his temples when his trembling got the better of them. They. This. All his hard work and he’d undone it. Before the encroaching black overtook him he fumbled with his phone, tapping out an apology to the group chat and barely managing to hit send.

He slipped in and out. Lucid one moment, hallucinating the next, burning away to nothing and ending up on the floor more than once after passing out attempting to, to…didn’t matter. There wasn’t enough in him to attempt it again, opting to lay flat on his back in the sweat soaked sheets trying not to move for the pain. For a wild, hysterical moment Jon was sure he would die here, alone, phone just out of reach, melting in wretched heat and so uncomfortably hot it was difficult to remember a time when he wasn’t.

Jon hurt.

Everything was darkness and agony. Each tremor an earthquake threatening to tear him apart. He was trapped in treacle, done up in bits of twine, strung together with razor wire and unable to move. It was a familiar voice that clawed its way down to him. Lifted him up, low and soft, a stone tumbling down a mountain and catching Jon up in the landslide. He thought he answered, made some attempt at a response, drawn out of him like water from a well. Hurting and disoriented Jon drifted. Consciousness slipping in and out through his fingers like the surf, breath like coals banked beneath his ribs. Jon’s body wouldn’t cooperate as it should and time seemed to skip from one moment to the next between long bouts of nothing.

A heavy palm, cool and comforting, came to rest over his forehead and Tim materialized out of nowhere, startling Jon enough that he keened when each joint shrieked and protested at his moving.

“Sh, sh, shh.” Tim. That’s right...he wasn’t sure it was true, but he was wiping down his over sensitive skin with a damp flannel to quell the coals for a handful of moments.

“Wha’s..?”

“When you didn’t come in yesterday or this morning, we figured we should check on you.” So many words. Too many to parse more than a few but the flood came anyway, streaking into his greasy hair because he’d been sure no one would come and Tim kept applying the cold compress; wrung, applied, repeated, and Jon sobbed with the simple relief of it, tears cool against the incandescence of his skin.

“Are you...l’leaving?” He winced at the raw scrape of his voice against his vocal cords. “Been. You’been s’so angry with m’me.” Tim’s face fell and Jon wanted to apologize. It was the illness, that’s all, lowering his defenses and simmering his many insecurities just below a fractured awareness that refused to keep them in where they belonged. Instead his breath hitched and he choked on a whimper of defeat. “Tri’tried so hard ‘nd still. M’sorry.”

“It’s alright.” So unbelievably soft. Jon thought he’d ruined this long ago and the tears came somehow faster. “I think we need to call an ambulance, bud.”

“No...nonono…” Jon didn’t want to be poked and prodded by strangers and stuck full of needles alone in a cold sterile room. Even in his ragged state Jon could see Tim was torn. “Pl’please.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothed, gentling him with a touch. “But if you can’t keep this down we have to go.” Medicine. Lucozade. Fed to him mouthful by mouthful in the intervals he was awake.

Quiet sounds he recognized, Martin. Sasha. Hushed. Martin tipped the next sip into him and Jon wasn’t aware of much, but he was aware enough to know he was disgusting after having slept and sweated in the same bedclothes for days. Martin wouldn’t hear of it and Jon didn’t know where to put all the feelings and he was so tired of crying and couldn’t seem to stop.

Sasha, they told him, has gone out for supplies and they asked if he’d like help getting out of his uncomfortable trousers and button down, now missing several buttons no doubt from his restlessness. Jon didn’t trust his voice, only nodded, trying and failing to sit up, losing consciousness entirely when one of them levered him up with an arm behind his shoulders. Tim was explaining it to Martin when he came around, peering up at them through fluttering lashes.

“S’al’...” Clumsy, the words wouldn’t come to him.

Together, they shift his limbs, passing him back and forth between, one moment resting against Martin’s chest, another tucked into the hollow where Tim’s shoulder and neck meet. He should be helping but he can barely stay with them, just concentrating on the pulse currently beneath his ear to ground him. Carefully, as though he is some precious thing, they rid him of the awful, disagreeable stickiness and their low murmuring seems such an intimate thing. He isn’t worth it. This. And then soft, clean clothes, well worn and familiar and when Jon surfaces again he’s with Tim on the sofa, bundled up and more comfortable than he’d been in months.

Martin is changing his sheets.

“I’m sorry, Jon.” He didn’t know what for and shook his head, or tried anyway. “Made you think you had to push yourself like that. Ignored how exhausted you were and guilt tripped you into not telling us ‘no’.” Lord, so many words, Jon dizzied himself trying to catch them, hold them, decipher them. “You should be able to trust us, and I.” A suspicious sniff. “I’m sorry.” Jon relaxed into him with a hum he hoped conveyed something.

“I think I remembered which meds he tolerated best.” Sasha elbowed her way into the flat, face lighting up when she saw he was awake. Kind of. “Jon! Thank god. You were in such a bad way.” Whispery and rushed, the same feeling in it as with Tim. “Let's get you dosed up and back to bed, okay?”

It was late evening judging by the window. The reading lamp was on. Martin sat beside him with a book he couldn’t recognize by cover alone.

“Mah’in..?” So it hadn’t all been a hallucination after all.

“There you are.”

“Miss’d work.” He nodded, uncapping a bottle of sports drink and holding it to his chapped lips. Jon drank what he could.

“Not important right now, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Gave us a scare.” Easy, like it was nothing in the world to do it, Martin laid the back of his fingers against his neck, against his throat. “That’s a relief. Tim called us in a panic.” By way of explanation. “But I think you’re past the worst of it now.”

“Don’, don’ remember.”

“Probably for the best. We’ve decided, if you’re alright with the arrangement, that one of us should stay with you.” That sounded okay even if normally Jon would fight it tooth and nail. He did remember being alone and scared. “Tim and Sash are talking. I get the feeling we missed something very important.”

“Mm.” Jon tried to sit up and swooned, came around with a pillow behind his back.

“Dunno if I’ll get used to that any time soon though, I’ll be honest.”

“Happens sometimes. Th’that’s why…” Martin picked up the thread.

“You cancelled on us. I understand. And I hope, I hope you know you can always tell me, us, I hope, when you need to. There’s no shame in it. I’ll admit, I’m upset with Tim.” He fussed with the quilts, smoothing out imaginary creases. “He knew this was something to look out for and he didn’t tell me.”

“No, it’s--”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about.” Martin spoke with conviction. “Ever. I don’t want you to, to push yourself like this for a blasted game night. We can do other things as a department. Things that don’t jeopardize your health like this again.”

“Martin’s right.” Sasha sat at his feet, draping a hand over his ankle, and Tim stood at the foot of the bed. He looked proper chastised, eyes rimmed in red and swollen from crying.

“I’m so sorry, Jon. So sorry. I should never--I was angry and frustrated and used it to. To hurt you. Make you think we’d stop being friends over a stupid night out. Not like I lifted a hand to help you! When I knew you wouldn’t ask a second time!”

“S’okay.”

“It’s not!” Tim was a staunch friend. The type who got to know you so well and sometimes aimed too precisely at your soft parts. He didn’t need another telling off. Exhaustion lapping at his limbs, Jon curled his fingers in poor imitation of a come hither gesture. Willingly, Tim allowed himself to be pulled along by it, slotting himself beside Jon on the mattress to hide his own tears in his chest. Graceless, Jon managed to tug a hand over the back of his head, tangling fingers in Tim's hair, surrounded by friends and not alone.

“Will be, then.”

[mintmatcha]

10 Months

Matsukawa and Hanamaki

Part One

CW: mentions of death and illness, ANGST

Today’s just another day at work. Someone’s dead and someone else is talking about it. 

The worst part of the job, Mattsun decides, isn’t consoling the grieving or dealing with the aftermath of death: it’s listening to these shitty, repetitive speeches. There’s only so many times a man can hear about God’s plan and how much better someone is now that they’ve entered the great beyond before he goes numb. Sure, yes, logically, he understands this is all sad, but before all else?

 It’s boring.

Has he always been this bitter? Has he always been this good at choking down his feelings? Probably.

Mattsun looks away from the speaker at the front of the room, who's droning on about some shit while practically draped over the coffin. He does a precursory scan across the room, making sure everyone was properly teary eyed and mourning, before pulling out his phone. Maybe it’s unprofessional, but it doesn’t matter. No one’s looking at the funeral director during these things. If they were, it was something for them to discuss later during the reception.

'Did you see that employee?' 

'No, I was crying.'

'He was on his phone!'

'How horrible!'

Just before he can open Twitter, a glimpse of unforgettable, bright strawberry blonde hair catches his eye. For a moment, he ignores it off. He’s used to imagining things, used to his brain searching for hints of pink wherever he goes. He's used to turning his head to see it was a trick of the eye.

But this time the color doesn’t fade. Instead, it comes into focus, catching the light that pours through the stained glass windows, rainbows painted across pale skin. All at once, the presence becomes real, and Mattsun feels like he’s seen a ghost.

Not a literal one, but, fuck, he might as well be.

It’s been years since he’s seen Makki, longer since they actually talked, but there he was, standing at the back of the parlor with an obituary in hand. He loathes himself for the way excitement bubbles inside him and his heart gets caught in his throat… and then immediately drops as he processes why Makki would be here. He tries to remember the last name of the deceased, hoping the last name wouldn’t be familiar. Makki’s dad was never in good health, could it be-

No, he definitely would have recognized anyone else with the last name Hanamaki.

That’s when it hits him that Makki isn’t dressed for the funeral. In a sea of black, he’s wearing some raggedy sweatshirt with coffee split down the sleeve and a loose pair of jeans, ripped in all the wrong places. Frankly, he looks like shit, but he’s just leaning against the door frame, standing there like he belongs, with a tiny little grin on his face. 

Makki never looks over, too involved in the speech, but he’s aware of Mattsun’s presence. His torso is angled to face his old friend, chest broad and inviting. Mattsun hates that after all these years, he can still read his body language and understand what it means. It’s an invitation to come over.

Mattsun has to stop himself from going over there. Time has passed, he’s made his choices. He can’t just drop his work for an old friend.

No, not a friend. Stranger adjacent. 

He’s made his choices. 

He stays where he should be, in the corner, for what feels like hours, autopiloting through the rest of the service. By the time it’s all over, and the lights are dimmed, Makki’s already gone.

Mattsun hates that he knows exactly where to find him.

.

.

They find each other behind the parlor, wedged between the building and the dumpster. Makki’s sitting on the curb, legs folded up under him and pressed into his chest. That signature smile hasn’t faded, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He pats the empty space next to him, but Mattsun just shakes his head and stays standing. 

“Just like high school, huh?” Makki says, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pouch. He taps the bottom four times,  then shakes it, hard. Waking up the cancer, making sure it’s out of bed, he used to joke. 

“Except we aren’t hiding from teachers anymore.” Mattsun kicks at a crumpled soda can and watches it bounce across the asphalt. “And you’ve changed brands.”

“Now we’re hiding from your boss.” Makki pulls a stick out and waves it, “And Iwaizumi’s not here to bitch about it.”

“Dude,” Mattsun tries not to sigh, but it sneaks out. The casual act was unsettling; Makki was pretending that past 3 years never happened. “I’m happy to see you and all, but I’m working right now.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Makki pats his pockets frantically, then pulls out a small pink lighter. It's not the same pink as his hair, but it's close. He brushes it against his pants, back then forward, opening it and lighting it in one smooth motion. He holds out the cigarette, twirling it between his fingers, “Help me light this, why don’t you?”

Mattsun blanches, scoffing in annoyance at the thought. There's the flash of a memory, Hiro's fingers against his lips, holding the cigarettes for him as he breathes in, skinned knees brushing against each other, but he pushes it down.

 “Hanamaki, I-”

“I’ve been demoted to just Hanamaki, huh?” he places it between his teeth and sets it alight, sucking in until the end glows orange. He holds still, savoring the moment, then lets out his breath, smoke seeping out through his teeth. “So, it turns out that I need to plan a funeral.”

Mattsun lets his apathy break, just for a moment. He runs his hands through his hair, completely fucking up the slicked back style as he processes this.  “Fuck, dude, I’m sorry.”

“Eh, don’t be.” Makki shrugs, “Not the end of the world.”

Mattsun blinks, trying to shake off the initial shock. He just lets his work persona take over. “Well, we would be happy to help you plan. We can scheduling for next week in my office, if you want-”

“There’s no rush, don’t worry.” Makki leans back and faces the sun. Even though he’s sitting on the ground, no more than 5 feet from garbage, he seems so peaceful. 

“Who’s it for?” Mattsun asks the obvious question and Makki grins wider, like he’s been waiting for this moment. He waggles his fingers in the air, like he’s celebrating.

“Me.” Makki says. He rolls his head forward and that pleasant air about him fades. It strikes Mattsun that he’s lost weight since high school; his already sharp features are more sullen, sunken into his face. “I’m dying.”

How hadn’t he noticed earlier? He spent so much time looking at Hiro in high school, so much time studying his features…. How could he miss such a dramatic change? Even now, he can remember exactly how the curve his cheek felt under his thumb, how smooth his skin was. Mattsun doesn’t realize he’s sitting until loose gravel bites into the palms of his hands.

“Fuck, dude.” he can only look straight ahead, focusing on nothing, “Are--- are you sure?”

“As sure as medical science can get,” he has the audacity to laugh, “I got brain cancer.”

Brain cancer. Mattsun knows what that means in a vague sense and yet it means almost nothing to him. Questions bubble up in his mind, all of them swimming around, begging for any sort of information to make this all make sense. 

"How long?" He wanted to ask anything else, but that’s the only sentence he could form.

" 'bout 7 inches.” Makki pauses for affect, “Oh, you meant how long do I have left to live?" he's grinning wildly at his own joke, waiting for Mattsun to react. When he doesn't he just takes another drag of his cigarette, smile never fading. "I thought it was funny.”

"It was a little funny." Mattsun relents, gesturing for the butt. It's passed with brushing fingers, knuckle against knuckle. It's been years since he's smoked- since third year of high school- but each pull still burns all the same. "How long?"

"Well, two months ago they told me I had years," he says, like it's nothing, "But the doc did a rescan and it's way worse than they thought.” He taps his temple,  “Apparently, three lil fuckers in there."

"How long?" Mattsun can’t stop repeating himself.

"10 months." he wobbles his hand side to side, “Give or take.”

Mattsun takes another drag, harder this time. It’s unfair that he’s this upset about it, that this isn’t just another funeral to him.

“Whoa, don’t hog the whole thing!” Makki grabs for his cigarette, opening and closing his hand like a small child, “You’ll get cancer from these, you know? ”

Mattsun doesn’t laugh. He just watches the ember fall on to his slacks. They flare of a quick moment before dying, leaving  little discolored burns in their wake.

“Both of us can’t get cancer- it’d be like wearing the same dress to a party. So embarrassing.” he finally just snatches it out of Mattsun’s hand, “So, are you going to help me?”

“H-help you.” he repeats back. Nothing that’s happening right now feels real.

“With my funeral. Duh.”

“You want me to plan your service?” Mattsun asks.

“Well, us. Not just you. Duh.”

Duh. 

“Why?” Mattsun breaths and yet he feels like he’s suffocating, “Why me? After everything I did-”

“I don’t want my dad to worry about it.” Makki kisses his teeth and pulls himself into a ball,  “He almost had a heart attack trying to figure out my mom’s and I …. I just don’t want him to worry.” Makki breathes out through his nose- it’s how he dispels negativity in his life, just like how he did in high school. “Besides, if I plan it, it doesn’t have to be some fucking boring ass pity party. We can make it fun. A fun-eral.”

These all just seem like words. There’s meaning behind them, sure, but they don’t seem to mean anything when they’re strung together like this. Mattsun wonders if this is shock, or some weird form of it. He’s seen it before, in the eyes of family’s blindly choosing and planning. He always thought they dumb, not knowing how to react, not knowing if they should be sad or angry or …. Something. 

But he gets it now. The news doesn’t always sink in.

“I don’t know what to say,” he admits after a long moment, “I don’t… I don’t think I’m processing this.”

Makki pushes off of the curb and stands, brushing off dust from his pants. “I get it. It’s a lot to hear.” he flashes a peace sign over his shoulder as he starts down the alley, “Think about it and get back to me.” A thin puff of smoke curls into the air, “My number’s the same as it always was.”

Mattsun sits there, hidden between the dumpster and his work, and tries to process as he watches Makki walk out of his life once again.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Prove Me Wrong

Summary: She can trust you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Warning: 18+ Mental Health, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Smut

Chapter 1

******

It’s been two and a half hours. Your notepad and pen have been long since set aside and your tea is now cold, the little that’s left. You’ve tucked your legs underneath yourself, calves pressed against your butt, as a blanket rests on your bottom half.

Across from you the brunette boy hangs from the ceiling as he continues to talk.

“I didn’t even have time to think about how that must’ve made Aunt May feel. My teachers told her I went missing on the trip and she couldn’t contact me because I left my phone on the bus and even if I had it I was in space and I don’t think long distance calls cover the solar system I was in, which would’ve been cool if-”

“Pete.” You mess up your eyebrows as you run your fingers over them. The boy keeps going.“ Pete.” 

“- and even though she got dusted she-”

“Peter!” You exclaim, stopping his rant.

His head whips down as he looks at you, noticing the still sweet yet slightly tired expression on your face. With an apologetic smile, he eases himself down from the ceiling and flops on to couch.

“Sorry. You don’t want to hear all my problems.” Fingers wringing in his lap, he looks away from you.

You stand and walk over, placing a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder,“ it’s my job to listen to your problems Pete. And I do want to hear them, just pause. Your time was up an hour ago.”

His demeanor changes with the physical contact from you. The sad, guilty, expression brightening, a smile left behind. 

You remove your hand and take a deep, settling, breath.

The chuckle you give makes him laugh,“ sorry, I just like having someone to listen.”

“I’m happy to listen and if I didn’t have other appointments I’d let you finish.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” 

“If you can’t hold on then my last appointment ends at four, come see me after, if you want.”

He smiles and gives you a quick hug,“ thanks Y/n, your the best. And I can be a little patient I’ll wait till my next appointment.” 

“Okay, that’s fine.” Before he can leave the room you stop him,“ oh and Peter, try writing it all down. Sort of like an apology to May. It’s clear you feel guilty about worrying her. Whether you share it with her or not, putting it on paper might help.” 

Giving you a thumbs up, he leaves out.

After cleaning up his pop cans and chips, you grab your cold tea and leave your office.

It’s now been six months since you moved into the Avengers compound. Your old friend and occasional patient, Tony Stark, asked/recruited you to come lend a hand.

As a licensed therapist and superpowered empath, Tony figured you could help everyone move past, or at least come to terms with, everything that happened with Thanos, himself included. 

Once you agreed the man moved you into the compound and gave you an office space. 

You spent your first week here getting to know the team, none of them being overly excited about the new comer. Especially not one who later revealed herself to be their “therapist.”

But time helped, in most cases. Tony and Peter were the first to open up to you, both guys being talkative. The difference is Peter actually takes your suggestions and help while Tony simply tells you his problems and then compartmentalizes. 

Shortly after them was Sam Wilson. Aside from his relentless flirting and overly joking attitude, he’s very receptive to help and open about his emotions. Much like him is Steve. The blonde man had no problems relenting his feelings to you and taking your help in return, he just struggles with actually using said help.

Mister Clint Barton is probably the easiest person to help. There are a number of things he wasn’t “excited” to share and other things you barely had to ask about. He revealed that he talks to his wife Laura about certain topics but had yet to even address somethings with himself. 

Your biggest difficulties lie in the lives of Wanda Maximoff, James Barnes, and Natasha Romanoff.

Wanda, while trusting you as a friend, had not a single interest in sitting down to discuss her traumas. She’d lost too much and suffered to greatly to even begin to process it. Months in and the most she’s talked about is the death of her parents and very few happy moments with her brother.

James, or Bucky, was silent. He watched you, eyed every move you made and sized you up like you were a target. Seeing as he pegged you as someone who wouldn’t hurt a fly, he figured you had no ill intentions. To this day though, he struggles to open up. You mostly talk about his friendship with Steve.

And Natasha. You’d yet to even have a session with the mysterious red head. Your first week in she ignored you. Your second week she made it abundantly clear she didn’t want anything to do with your “therapy.” By the third week you barely saw her around the facility.

Still, you are far from giving up hope on anyone.

You find that you’ve made it all the way to the kitchen despite being lost in thought.

Wanda and Steve stand in front of the stove, the blonde man intently watching what the young girl is cooking, both oblivious or unbothered by your presence. 

Gaze flickering over to Sam sitting with Bucky at the counter, you smile.

“Ready for your appointment Sam?” 

He gives you a smile and winks,“ always.” 

The man waits for you to fix another cup of tea before following you to your office.

Sam wastes no time getting comfortable on the sofa, wrapping himself up in the Sherpa blanket you provide after he’s grabbed two bags of skittles and a pop from the fridge.

It didn’t take you long to figure out the snacks each member of the team prefers and in an attempt to make them more comfortable you stocked your office with the treats.

“Alright gorgeous, you’ve got me all to yourself, wassup?” He finishes with another wink and a smirk.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you set down your mug, and pull the notebook you use for him from your desk. 

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t flirt with me in here?” 

He shrugs,“ what’s the fun in that?”

You smile at him, sitting in your chair and sipping your tea,“ when we’re in here and that door is closed it’s about you Sam, you aren’t helping yourself by disassociating.”

For a moment he looks away, popping a few skittles into his mouth. When your eyes connect again you know he’s ready to be serious.

“Did you do complete the exercise I asked you to do?” 

“Yeah yeah.” He grumbles, whipping out his phone.

Two hours later you’re giving the man a hug and exiting your office shortly after him.

Despite the team gathering for dinner, you head up to the roof. 

It’s always been heavy on you to take on the emotions of the team. As much as you love helping them and having them trust you, it becomes a bit much.

When it gets overwhelming you step away. Taking some time to process everything you’d taken in and work through it. 

Using your powers in this way has a downside. When you take away the horrible feelings they have toward themselves, it’s absorbed into your own emotions. Sadly, you can’t just make them disappear from yourself like you do with the team. You have to process and deal with it all. 

Not surprising at all, the members you will see tomorrow are going to ruin you: Steve, Bucky, and Wanda.

******

[i-am-ironic]

The time that Dick dragged Marinette and Damian to the police because damian was nice to someone.

The title is a bit of an over simplification but it got the most votes and i think its funny. This probably isn't what you were expecting but damian wasn't expecting it ether so here we go!

Part 2

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

Damian was not having a good day. It had started out fine. He had gone to Wayne Enterprises to look over some paperwork and was planning on introducing his long time girlfriend to his family later that day. As he was headed back home he saw a flower shop, it had been a while since he had gotten marinette anything after work so he decided to stop and get her a bouquet.

He picked out a beautiful set of flowers, with lilys and some yellow flower he didn't know the name of.

But, as he was walking down the sidewalk toward his car a woman stopped him and said, "would you mind holding this for me? Just for a second?"

Now usually he would say no but marinette had been telling him he needed to be nicer to people so he said, "yes, just hurry."

He soon learned he should not have said that.

The woman handed him a bundle. Right before sprinting back to the flower shop and around the corner.

Damian's first though was 'well crap. This is a bundle of dr*gs isn't it?'

He carefully stated to unrap the bundle so he wouldn't disrupt what ever was in there. He didn't want any of it on him and he didn't want to touch any of it.

Well it wasn't dr*gs.

When he removed the blanket from the top of the bundle he found a face. The eyes were closed and the little pink mouth was open. Soft black hair was poking out from the edge of the blanket.

This was a baby.

He was just handed a baby on the sidewalk.

The baby was asleep.

He didn't know what to do. He couldn't process what just happened. So he did what any logical man would do. He walked to his car, and got in it. Then he realized he couldn't drive anywhere with the baby so he got out of the car and started walking back to his apartment.

He must have looked pretty strange walking down the street with flowers in one hand and a baby in the other. He was still wearing the suit from the office and he was a Wayne. As the youngest of the Wayne's and only blood son he was pretty recognizable by the public.

When he finally reached the apartment the first thing he said after walking in the door was, "Marinette I'm never going to be nice to anyone again."

"Why babe?" Marinette called from the kitchen where she was cooking something for dinner. "What's wrong? Oh you brought me flowers how kind!" She grabbed the flowers turning on her heal to go put them in some water.

"Mari, im sure what ever you are cooking will be great," he said, she knew that today was his day to cook but they would have to talk about her overworking herself later, "I need some help over here."

"Why? What happened........." she saw the baby but then put her head in her hand before saying, " Damian Wayne is that a baby?"

"It is and I don't know what to do, and we don't have milk or diapers, or clothes, or....... Marinette? Are you okay?"

"Just give me a minute, I wasn't expecting my boyfriend to come home with a baby today." She stood there for a second before shaking her head and looking back up at damian. "OK so we have a baby. I guess we should see if he or she needs to be changed before we go to the store."

"We don't have any diapers." Damien added helpfully.

Marinette took the baby and walked to the living room as she said, "okay so go to the kitchen and get a towel and while you are in there turn off the stove."

As damian looked for a towel he heard marinette yell from the other room, "its a girl!"

After the 'diaper' situation was taken care of the two of them just stared at each other and the baby between them. She had woken up. She had the biggest blue eyes ether of them had ever seen. She couldn't be more then a month or two old. But she wasn't crying. She just looked around.

"Okay, so," mari started, "how about you tell me how you acquired a baby girl, in the car to the store."

"Yeah, about that, um, you see I didn't have a car seat so I just kind of walked here from the flower shop."

"Of course you did. It's fine we can walk, ill hold the baby if you promise to carry all the stuff we buy."

"Deal." He could carry all the things they would need, plus it would give him a great excuse to show off.

"So.... are you going to tell me where you got this baby?"

"Well, pretty much i went to get you flowers and as I was leaving a lady asked me to hold something for her and I remembered how you told me to be nicer to people so I agreed and then she took off running and I saw the baby and brought her home."

"So a lady just handed you a baby and ran, dang. You are aware no one is going to believe you right?" Mari said still trying to process everything.

"Yes I'm aware. Anyway we can't keep calling her 'the baby' we have to give her a name."

"Any ideas?"

"Marry."

"Kate."

"Emma."

"We are not naming her emma. What about Adélie?"

"How about Martha?"

"After your grandmother? That would be a good middle name." She paused for a moment, "I know Gabrielle, Gabby for short."

"Gabrielle Martha Dupan-chang al Ghul Wayne, poor kid has such a long name." Damien laughed.

"We might not be able to keep her dames, then what?"

"First we are going to get clothes, diapers, clean blankets and some formula. Then we can go to the police and file a report for fear for the safety of a child. The fact that she was just handed to me on the street should be enough evidence, they should give us custody until everything goes through. In the mean time we can try to get approved to foster her and maybe even adopt."

"One step at a time."

By this point the two of them had reached the store. (Im imagining like a Walmart or Target type of store) They made a bee line for the baby section. Neither of them had any idea what to look for and they didn't want to call any more attention to themselves then they already had. After all this was Damian Wayne walking into a store with a girl no one knew, and a baby, who had a dish towel wrapped around her waist. Needless to say people were staring.

Marinette picked out three outfits, a pastel purple dress, a green onesie and a blue onesie. Then they got some bottles and pacifiers before heading over to the diaper section. Neither of them expected to see Dick Grayson-Wayne walk around the corner as they were trying to figure out how many diapers a baby really needed for a few days.

The shock on Dick's face was worth all the questions he was inevitably going to ask. First he looked at his brother, then marinette, then the baby products damian was holding, and finally the baby in marinette's arms. He closed his mouth that had been hanging open and nodded, walking over to the three of them.

"Im not going to ask about the dress," he said Indicating the baby clothes marinette had handed damian " or the girl, and frankly I'm too scared to ask about the baby, but are you still coming to dinner tonight?"

"We don't know yet." Obviously annoyed Damian looked between his brother and marinette, "we didn't expect to have a baby this morning, so the plan has changed."

"What do you mean you didn't expect to have a baby? If you're girlfriend is pregnant then you are going to have a baby! That's usually how that works. Honestly Damian!" Then he seemed to remember all the days of school Damian had missed because of Robin dutys, "oh no. Damian when you were in high school did you miss the class called-"

"Im going to stop you right there," Marinette finally cut in "um, you see this isn't, exactly,our baby."

"And to the police we go!" Dick said dragging them out of the store barely letting them pay for their stuff. When ever ether of them tried to speak he would shush them and say they should tell it to the judge.

Did he honestly think they had stolen a baby? Well, to be fair, that's pretty much what Bruce did to Jason soooo....... and he had just met marinette and didn't know what kind of person she was. But they were planning on going to the police after the store anyway so this actually worked out.

Once they arrived marinette went to the bathroom with Gabby to change her diaper and put on some of the clothes. Damian and Dick went to Commissioner Gordon so Damian could explain the situation.

Marinette walked in right as damian was finishing the story, " And Dick saw us in the picking out a bottle and he asked about the baby and when I told him she wasn't our he dragged us here."

"So what your telling me is that you want to keep the baby until and unless the parent or gardien comes forward?" Commissioner Gordon looked quite surprised, "Damien you are so young, you don't need a baby that isn't your responsibility, and what does your girlfriend think about all of this?"

"I agree with damian," the three men looked up at Marinette holding baby Gabrielle, they had been so caught up in their talk they hadn't noticed her walk in, "i know what foster care is like, one of my roommate was in the system and she barely mad it out alive, it's been years but she still has nightmares and calls me in the middle of the night. Ha," her laugh was humorless and cold, "we bonded over our trama. I wont let this sweet little girl go through that when I can stop it."

Dick had slight tears in his eyes he remembered life before Bruce adopted him. There weren't many good memories. "I think they should keep her. If anything goes wrong they have the whole family to help, and no one should have to wonder where they are going to sleep that night."

"If you all are that determined then i'll start the paperwork. But," he said stopping the smile that had started to form on the new parents faces, "you will both have to agree to give her up if we end up finding her legal gardien, before you officially adopt her. After you adopt her she is yours and no one can take her back."

Marinette and Damian hugged making sure not to squish Gabrielle. They went back to the store, while Dick told the rest of the family Damian and his girlfriend would be a little bit late, and they had a surprise for everyone.

Damian walked in front of marinette as they entered the house.

Alfred the butler was there to great them, "good evening Master Damian and you must be miss mar-" the shock on Alfred's face was evident as he stared at Damian's tiny girlfriend holding a baby's car seat. "Is-is that?"

"Alfred could you please tell my family to gather in the living room we will be up in my room until then so they won't see the 'surprise'." He put emphasis on the word 'surprise' gesturing at the car seat.

Alfred nodded and smiled mischievously. Damian lead marinette to his room were they left all the baby stuff. When you have a baby you have to travel with a ridiculous amount of stuff.

When Alfred came back to get them he started at the baby girl, "what is her name?" He asked softly so he wouldn't wake her.

"Gabrielle Martha dupan-chang al Ghul Wayne." Damian answered just as softly.

"How old is she?"

"We aren't sure, we when to the doctor earlier today after we finished at the store and he said she was about two months old."

Alfred looked quite confused but knew they would explain once they got to the living room with the rest of the family.

Damian walked in first to block marinette and the baby from his family's view. The room was packed, there was Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Stephanie, and Barbara, not to mention Selina Kyle Alfred and Duke. When they had said the WHOLE family wanted to meet Damien's girlfriend they ment the whole family. When Damien sat down and they saw Marinette and Gabrielle, and i am not exaggerating when I say, all hell broke lose.

In the chaos it was hard to hear what specific people were saying but someone said, "i knew it wasn't like you to want us to meet your girlfriend now it all makes sense!" And "Well Bruce, at least he knows about his kid." There was also lots of swearing probably by Jason. Tim chugged an entire pot of coffee. Only Bruce was silent. He started at the them and waited for the room to quiet down.

"Damien, would you like to explain yourself?"

"Well this is all marinette's fault if you think about it."

Marinette looked offended as she responded "it is not my fault! You were the one who took a random baby home!"

"YOU KIDDNAPED A BABY!!!" Jason cut in.

"I mean its kinda the opposite of kidnapping if you think about it."

"I did not kidnap Gabrielle, she was handed to me on the street and I didn't know what to do so I took her home."

"Oh my God!" At this point everyone was confused. "What do you mean she was handed to you on the street?"

"Well i was walking out of the flower shop and a lady came up to me and asked if I would hold something for her and I said yes, so she gave me something and took off running. I looked down and there was a baby. I took her home and then marinette and I went to the store to get her some stuff. That was when we saw Dick. When he found out Gabrielle wasn't our baby he took us to the police i explained everything to them and we are going to keep her until her guardians can be found. If they don't find anyone we are going to keep her."

"What a story." Tim said. "Well that clears that up let's eat."

They continued talking late into the night about all the things that would have to change. But all things considered it went pretty well.

When the little family got home marinette went through the blankets Gabrielle had been wrapped in and found a letter.

"Dear Mr. Wayne,

This is my daughter, I don't have the money to take care of her, please give her a good life I don't know what will happen if she is put in the foster care system and I don't want to think about it. If you decide to keep her I will sign over all parental rights to you, I just ask that you give her the life that I couldn't, and that you let me see her on holidays. My name is Amanda Jones you can find me if you want to or just let me be. tell her I love her but I couldn't keep her. I love her so much."

She would have to give this to the police in the morning. But for now she had to get some sleep before Gabrielle woke up.

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

This took forever to write but here it is i hope everyone likes it and thank you to everyone who voted on the name for this. I'm not entirely happy with how it turned out but its not bad, and I don't think it's going to get any better.

(Part 2)

@wannajointhecrabcult

@corabeth11

@i-wanna-be-a-ninja

@animegirlweeb

@spyofthenightcourt

[hatercube]

sunnflower hot take >:)

okay, okay so. i know that sunnflower is a rly popular OMORI pairing, and don't get me wrong, i like it, too,,,, HOWEVER. here is a post-good ending headcanon that will smash all of ur sunnflower dreams into a million bits and pieces <3

[edit: just want to let anyone else who sees this post that it is 10000% okay to ship sunflower, and this whole post is purely a headcanon that’s been stewing in my brain since last month, and it is only my interpretation and my opinion !]

TW // suicide, anxiety, mental institutions, childhood trauma

Sunny and Basil *cannot* see each other

i have been up for 24 hours and don't know if anything i'm about to say will make sense, so bear with me. it's not uncommon for people who shared trauma to have intense reactions that manifest in their relationships with each other. some people become hyper-attached to each other after the traumatic event, while some people are the exact opposite, and if these people come into contact with each other, it can be extremely detrimental to their mental healths. the latter is how i see basil and sunny (especially basil).

throughout the game, a lot of their interactions come off as stiff and awkward not only because they haven't spoken in years, but also because basil is too emotionally dysregulated to keep up a conversation. he's stuttering, he's sweating--WE ALL SAW HIM. he is an anxious. wreck, and this anxiety directly stems from mari's death and sunny's presence. especially after kel breaks the news that sunny's moving away, we can see that any major changes sunny makes are going to heavily affect basil on a psychological level. this isn't just a problem with basil clinging to the last bit of familiarity in his life, but it would also affect sunny's personal growth if these patterns were to be perpetuated in any future relationship between the two, platonic or romantic. imagine trying to move on from the most traumatic experience of your life, and an old friend you haven't talked to in years, begs you to stay. it isn't healthy for either of them.

FURTHERMORE, in regards to the secret true ending with the special SunnFlower cutscene, i think that it's okay to say that these two are beginning the healing process and are working towards finding peace in their lives separately. this ending doesn't imply really anything other than a mutual understanding that everything they'd been holding onto for years had finally been released, and that they were now beginning their journey of recovery.

i don't think they talk for a long time after the good ending--i don't think they really want to. for sunny, basil is a painful reminder of not only the death of his sister, but also the incident that landed him in the hospital. you don't just automatically make amends with the person that gouged your eye out during a psychotic episode. i think that sunny understands and forgives, but i do not think he feels safe.

for basil, on the other hand, sunny is a reminder of the terrible thing he did to mari's body and also his abandonment issues he got from his absent parents. in my opinion, being the person who strung up your best friend's dead sister into a tree to make it look like a su*cide is worse than being the one who pushed her down the stairs. you can push someone on accident, but you definitely can't hang someone on accident. i imagine there's a lot of guilt in there mixed with a whole lot of other childhood trauma from his neglectful parents that is a cocktail for mental instability. (also would like to point out that basil having the idea to hang her up in the first place is an early sign of extreme mental illness,, that isn't normal and also hints at some kind of emotional codependency or unhealthy attachment he has to sunny.) the fact that basil was pushed so far that he had a psychotic episode which resulting in him stabbing his friend--which by the way was triggered by sunny's mere presence, not an immediate physical threat of any kind--is so telling of his mental state, and i honestly believe that best thing for him would be hospitalization. for a while. if he cannot be safe to himself and others, then he needs to begin his recovery in a rehabilitation center, and who knows when it would be safe for him to be discharged.

to put that last bit in perspective, i've been hospitalized before due to a pretty half ass attempt that i didn't follow through with because i was drunk out of my mind and that landed me five days. five days, and i didn't even do anything, like no physical harm came to me. also, during my time there, i was really adamant about how i was feeling better and said i had reduced SI which is also how i got out of there in that small amount of time. i have no idea how much time someone like basil would have to spend in an institution, but it would probably be more than a few weeks.

if seeing sunny was the final trigger that led up to basil's psychotic episode, then it is completely possible that seeing sunny would only bring up similar dysregulation problems in the future, even after he's well on his way to full recovery.

SO TL;DR

1. basil stakes his emotions too heavily on sunny,

2. for sunny, basil reminds him of his sister's death and incident that brought him to the hospital, leading him to feel unsafe around basil,

3. for basil, sunny reminds him of the guilt in shame of what he did to mari's body (which i think we can all universally agree is much worse than accidentally pushing her down the stairs),

4. sunny's presence pushed basil to a point where he was not safe to himself or others in an extreme manner that borders homicidal,

5. BASICALLY WHAT IM SAYING IS THAT THEY TRIGGER EACH OTHER AND WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HANDLE HANGING OUT FOR EXTENDED PERIODS OF TIME BC OF THE PTSD AND POSSIBLE PSYCHOSIS

so yeah. there it is. if you made it this far, im so sorry.

[letteredlettered]

Absolutely no pressure to answer if u don't want to but how did u and ur girlfriend meet? U guys seem really cute together.

We are insanely cute together.

This is a long story that doesn’t need to be this long, but whatever. I love my girlfriend and you asked, so here you go.

Last spring I was writing That Lesson Alone, which was making me rethink a lot of things I’d already thought a lot about before. That rethinking made me promise myself to be more open to new experiences, which I try to be, but I do let my social anxiety drive quite a bit of what I do.

So, when I got an email from a fan who said she was going to be in what she thought was my hometown, and she loved my fics, and was I interested in meeting, I said yes. She mentioned she had left a comment on one fic and that we had had a little conversation; I remembered this comment in particular because the personal story in the comment was rather sensational and quite interesting. Still, I might not have agreed to meet, because it could be very awkward. I don’t like talking to strangers with faces. However, because of That Lesson Alone, and because she was fannish, I agreed to the meeting. (I like meeting strangers who are fannish far more than strangers in any other circumstance. At least you can talk about fandom with strangers who are fannish, and I’m very interested in fandom. You can talk about work with work strangers or the bus with strangers you meet at the bus, but most real things bore me so I struggle with these conversations.)

This person sent me another email in another language, which stymied me for a little while about how to reply, but then she quickly sent me another email saying the first email was meant for someone else; the someone else also sounded sensational. When she got to my hometown, she emailed to say she had arrived, but only had a vague idea of when she was leaving, and she had no concrete plans so could meet any time. I began to get the impression that this person was, how do you say, A Ride, by which I mean one of those people who is interesting and clever and sensational but also extremely non-linear and flighty and difficult to understand. I mean she was halfway around the world and didn’t know when she was leaving; she sent the wrong people emails; the people she told me she knew were sensational; she was perfectly bilingual; she was totally down for meeting random strangers. I have a friend who is A Ride. She is what the Sisters at the Abby would call a flibberty-gibbet, a will-o-the-wisp, a darling, a demon, a lamb.

I wanted to meet on a weeknight (I don’t know if you know this, honey, but I told you I wanted to meet on a weeknight because I was busy, but although I can always be busy, so it wasn’t strictly a lie, this wasn’t my main motivation. I wanted to have an excuse to only have a small window of time to meet so that I could get away if it was too awkward), but on the night we arranged to meet, I was unwell. I was in fact entering the worse part of what I have now learned is a chronic illness. Usually this would be enough to convince me to cancel altogether, and to this day I’m shocked that I didn’t. Is it becoming clear that I don’t like meeting anyone and never ever date? Anyway, because of That Lesson Alone and my determination to be open to new experiences, we rescheduled.

I bused to the restaurant where we met after work and then walked from the bus. I remember this walk. I remember doing the thing that I do to prepare myself for social situations I don’t like, which is not letting myself dwell on it too much, reminding myself that I am actually rather good at making other people feel comfortable when I make the effort, reminding myself to ask questions, reminding myself I could get away, reminding myself that people actually find me quite personable and even vivacious, because I am, but if it’s with strangers, only if I fake it hard enough. These little reminders get me into game face, the face I use for dealing with other people.

Anyway, when I met her, she was very tall. This immediately made me more comfortable, as I am very tall and often feel awkwardly large around other people. And then the first thing she told me was that she had been watching something happy and queer, which meant we could not only talk about fannish things but also queer things. But was she going to be one of those people who just went on about straight things being dull? That always makes me uncomfortable.

Luckily, she doesn’t talk that way, and it was such an amazing conversation, the kind of conversation you dream about having with the love of your life, but the one you doubt you’ll have when you actually meet the love of your life. You imagine when you meet the love of your life you’ll have a conversation that goes, “Pass the salt,” and maybe you’ll talk about the weather, and then a few weeks later you meet them again and talk a little more about something equally uninteresting. Not until months pass by do you realize how much you have in common and how much you like being near them, and then you will start to talk about the things that truly interest you, and after years, you realize they’re the love of your life.

Most of the time, when you have a really stunningly good conversation, you don’t assume you’re talking to the love of your life. You assume it’s a once in a lifetime conversation, with a once in a lifetime person, and you never see them again, because they are too smart and too cool and too tall for you. Or, you do see them again, and you keep seeing them, because they are so mystic, so magical; they are so stunning and intelligent and intellectual; they make you feel so much, you just want to talk to them and talk to them and talk to them. And the more you talk, the more you find out that behind the magic, there’s actually not much that you have in common. Sometimes you find out that they trot out the same sensational stories on every occasion; they make the same jokes you found so witty over and over; you find out that everything that was glossy and new about them is something old that has been polished to shine, with very little you can hold on to and firmly understand underneath. Other times you just learn that your moral centers diverge, or you don’t actually like them. There is no fire beyond the initial spark.

This is just not true of my girlfriend. She is still smart and still cool and still sensational and, very importantly, still tall. I would not describe her as A Ride. She’s not one of those people who makes you feel like you have to sit back and hold on; though she’s endlessly clever, she can explain her thought processes and likes to; she thinks deeply about herself and others and listens. She’s so thoughtful and interesting and clever and also deeply passionate and exuberant about so many things that when you’re with her you can create a ride together that both of you drive or both of you sit back and enjoy. (She didn’t know when she was leaving my hometown because her flight back wasn’t for a long while, but she was traveling down to Oregon and California, and hadn’t bought train tickets yet, and we solved how the mistake was made on the email. We are guessing it was an autofill accident, since the person she was trying to email has a name that starts with the same letter).

She is reliable. She has a whiz-bang, knock-you-flat kind of memory, that not only remembers facts and conversations and locations but that remembers how you are feeling, and remembers to ask. She has the kind of broad-yet-also-piercing intellect that can follow an abstract conversation and build on it, even when you’re in the territory of feelings and concepts without names. She always wants to talk about her feelings, which makes me want to genuflect with gratitude, and she’s so hot she’d probably light a candle if she touched its wick. Like definitely keep her away from flammable substances. She’s creative and theatric and theatrically creative. She has big dark hair and curvy hips. She’s generous and accommodating and care-taking in a way that doesn’t negate her own self-interest. She’s gentle. She’s kind.

But anyway, so we got to talking, and it was one of the best conversations of my life, and I got on a bus and went home, very proud of myself for having accomplished A Social Thing, and telling myself, “See? Social Things are not always bad.” She had mentioned that she would be in town a little longer if I wanted to hang out again, but that would just be crazy, as having to do anything social twice in one week is a strain for me, much less with someone I don’t know. But the truth is, I already felt like I knew her, and leave yourself open to new experiences, said That Lesson Alone, and when else was I going to meet a magic person?

Also, I should mention, which I’m not sure I’ve mentioned to her, but I am suspicious of magical people. When I meet magical people I assume they are vampires underneath, by which I mean they are putting on an act, as I said above, or they are one day going to get you in a very difficult situation, because they are A Free Spirit, which, eventually, you find out means they think crime is fun, or something. I’m just a suspicious person, okay.

But we did hang out again. And that was also magical. And I invited her to my apartment, something I’ve barely done with anybody and never ever ever in my whole life with someone I’ve just met. And then I thought about having sex with her, which is something I basically never think about. And then she left town and said she might be in love with me, but at this point I still A LITTLE BIT thought she might be A Ride, in which case she probably fell in love with people all the time.

Usually when I meet someone very cool I assume they don’t want to pursue friendship with me, because they probably have way too many other friends. I think we’ve all been in the situation of knowing someone very popular and realizing that we do not mean as much to them as they do to us. I am always wary of investing too much emotion in someone who does not have the capacity to equally invest in me. However, because investing time in people I don’t know well is such a commitment for me, I’m also frequently guilty of just ghosting people. I often don’t respond to texts or emails. I often just drop people, without ever really meaning to. Part of it is how intently I focus on things—it’s difficult for me to be pulled in many directions at once, so it’s easier to have a few good friends rather than many casual ones. But part of it really is self-confidence, assuming people don’t want to know me.

However, writing That Lesson Alone reminded me that I am allowed to pursue friendships. It made me realize that a lot of my assumptions about people not wanting to know me are my own self-confidence issues, and not actually other people not wanting to know me. Writing That Lesson Alone reminded me I was worth knowing.

So, we kept talking. I was still late to replying to some emails, but I eventually did reply. I even got a new messenger app just to talk to her. We both have an interest in theater. I was directing a play. She expressed interest in seeing it. She was going to be in Canada when it opened. I told her if she wanted to see it she could stay with me if she wanted. I’d never really done anything like that before. She said yes. I still didn’t really think it would happen—but it did. She came to stay with me for a week that summer. I remembered thinking about having sex with her. I remembered thinking she might be open to it.

One of the things I wanted to be open to when I was writing That Lesson Alone was the idea of dating. I used to think that if I was open to dating, I would have to be open to dating lots of people I didn’t want to date; I thought dating meant you had to give everyone “a chance” and suffer through a lot of “pass the salt” just In Case. That’s why I didn’t date. I have actually been happy being mostly single most of my life. I never really felt a strong need for a partner, except in some sadder lonely moments, and even then, I wanted to be alone more than with someone who was just “pass the salt” okay. But one revelation I had writing That Lesson Alone was that I didn’t have to give everyone “a chance.” I didn’t have to give anyone a chance. I could just be open to dating, and look at what was out there (OK Cupid), but if nothing appealed, I didn’t actually have to do anything, since I already knew I was happy being alone. So, I thought more about what would be appealing, so I could know what I was open to.

I realized the person I wanted was tall (natch). With big dark hair. They like reading and talking about fiction and fictional characters. They can have abstract conversations about philosophical topics. And they are caring and accommodating in a way that can deal with an acerbic nature like mine, but they are also self-aware enough and assertive enough to be honest when I’ve hurt them. And they aren’t acerbic back.

This is a tall order. (hahaha) I thought about it a lot, because I really am harsh sometimes. I try not to be. I try very hard. I just get snappy when I’m tired or stressed, and even though I think about it deeply and put measures in place so that it won’t hurt other people, and I reflect on my own behavior and make apologies, I still hurt people. And despite all of this I’m still hurt by anyone that acts like me. I can deal with it! In fact, lots of times I like it, as lots of people like that (myself included) tend to be blunt and I love blunt, because I love knowing where I stand with people. But I also know that, as a rule, I just cannot be extremely close and spend my life with someone who will snap at me. I’m just too sensitive.

Anyway, over this week she stayed with me, I realized she actually was the only person I’d ever met who fit all of these qualifications. She was someone I would date if she was local. Meanwhile, she made it pretty clear she was really, really into me, which was also something that had never really happened to me before. If people have been into me before (which I still doubt, but who knows), they haven’t made it clear. If they thought they were making it clear, they didn’t realize that I am someone who needs heavy, heavy hints in order to understand flirting, even when I see it happening to other people. But luckily my girlfriend is pretty great at making what she wants clear. She made it really clear she wanted me.

So, well, things happened. I told her I wished that we could date and she could be my girlfriend. She asked why we couldn’t. I told her I thought the distance thing was an obvious problem. She didn’t think it was. So then I had a girlfriend, and she did too.

The end.

PS I love her.

[fictionplumis]

A Lambert/Aiden Thing

Okay, bear with me here, this might be long. And maybe at one point I'm gonna try to RP this but unfortunately there's no one on the Lambert/Aiden RP tags on the site I use. So I'm just gonna put this here for now. And if anyone wants to, oh I don't know, write a fic or whatever based on this, PLEASE link me 'cause I wanna read it but anyway. 

Set after the Wild Hunt, one of those rare AUs where Aiden genuinely did not survive.

While traveling together as super cool witchers, Geralt ends up telling Ciri all about helping Lambert get revenge for his Cat friend, right? 

Time passes, and Ciri starts trying to really solidify her control with her ability. Geralt ends up spending more and more time at Corvo Bianco and Ciri is out on the Path, but every so often a girl needs a break, y'know? So sometimes she'll disappear for a couple days, maybe a few weeks, just off in another world. It's a good way to practice. 

In one world, she ends up running into this man named Aiden. (This world being our world. Not a modern Continent thing, not some point in the future, I mean OUR world.) They talk, and he ends up mentioning his roommate Lambert, and the more he says about Lambert, the more it becomes obvious that it's LAMBERT. 

Now Ciri has absolutely no intention of doing anything about this. It's not her place, telling Lambert would be an AWFUL idea, and going to meet that world's version of her uncle just seems like a bad idea. But she is curious about what kind of man can inspire such a strong sense of friendship in Lambert, so she decides to pop into that world every so often, "accidentally" find Aiden, and just kind of get to know him a little bit. Plus it's another way to practice her abilities, not just pin-pointing and traveling to a specific world, but to where a specific person is. 

She does that on and off a few times, enough where her and Aiden are sort of acquaintances. 

Now in this world Aiden isn't a saint, okay? This boy pretty much grew up on the streets. He has a past that he's trying to get away from. He knows his way around a knife fight, has ample experience running from the cops, and has been through so much therapy. (I don’t get into detail here but any kind of modern Aiden I usually have some kind of neurotypical. Might be something as simple as ADHD, though I do love bipolar!Aiden and psychotic!Aiden as well. I’d imagine at this point he’s good at managing it, with the help of therapy and medication. Now the therapy wouldn’t be all that accessible with where this is going, but Ciri could help him make sure he has his medications. Hell, if wanted to have him keep things consistent with his therapy too, he could move down to appointments maybe once a month and Ciri could make sure he could get to them, the same way she helps attain other things later on in this snippet. I absolutely support positive and accurate depictions of mental illness, I’m not just using the terms bipolar or psychotic lightly.) And unfortunately his past ends up catching up with him. 

Ciri happens to get there just in time. Before Aiden can end up with a bullet in his eye, she's teleporting him to the first safe place that comes to her mind: Corvo Bianca.

Now poor Aiden has no fucking idea what happened. One second his old "friends" have him backed into a corner with a gun to his face and the next he's experiencing the worst motion sickness of his life and throwing up in a pot that smells like shit. He spends the next two days sleeping off some major jet lag and when he comes to, he had no fucking idea where he is. 

Then comes Geralt and Ciri having to awkwardly explain the whole witcher thing to him, the Continent in general, the time period, the fact that monsters and sorceresses and magic exists in this world, all that happy shit. And it's a lot to process. Before they can even get to the whole "do you want to go back to your world and handle the deal with people trying to kill you thing" Lambert shows up. 

At first Aiden doesn't even think, he's just like oh thank fuck a familiar face, I know you hate hugs but I think this can be forgiven because I've had the weirdest most stressful week of my life.

And then he's like, wait a second. Lambert is... Thicker. 

Like Lambert's always been a very physically active guy, he's a mechanic or whatever you want a modern day Lambert to do, but his shoulders weren't THAT broad before and under those spiky metal arm things are some impressive biceps. Also what are those spiky metal arm things? Lambert, what are you wearing? How the fuck did you get here? Holy shit your eyes--

He puts two and two together. Right, the name Geralt sounded familiar because Lambert's mentioned the name. That's his adopted brother. So if this Geralt is a witcher, then Lambert in this world is a witcher. And Lambert is also having a minor breakdown because, y'know, AIDEN. 

Let's just say Geralt warned him. Explained the whole situation and asked Lambert to come back to help with this, and Lambert was very torn because it's not HIS Aiden. It'll hurt too much, to see someone so much like Aiden but just slightly to the left. He knew it would. He just didn’t expect this Aiden to be SO MUCH like his Aiden. By this point Aiden has had to change his clothes into some of Geralt's trousers with a belt to hold them up and a loose tunic, but it's fucking him. 

They all talk a bit. Aiden pretty much admits that yeah, there are people after him. And they probably won't stop until he's dead. That's how gangs work, y'know? You can't really... Get out. He tried, he really fucking did, but even if it's not the ones that cornered him before, it'll be someone else. So yeah, Ciri saved his life and going back is probably not the best idea. 

Now I absolutely don't want to fuck over another world's Lambert just to make Continent!Lambert happy, so we're gonna say the two were really good friends. They were roommates, they were close, Lambert was pretty much Aiden's only friend, but they weren't lovers. Lambert was with a woman named Keira. A doctor. They were good for each other, y'know? When Lambert first started dating her, Aiden thought she was kind of a bitch but as time went on she kind of mellowed out. It wasn't that she became less full of herself, but more that she actually felt confident enough that she didn't feel the need to try to take on the world anymore. And Lambert's happy with her. So leaving Lambert behind in that world kind of sucks, yeah, but he'll be okay. And this Lambert is so similar that to Aiden, it doesn't feel like he's losing someone. 

Now we have Aiden getting to experience the Continent for the first time. Getting to experience witchers for the first time. 

Lambert. Sword fighting. 

And that's so fucking cool. Can you please teach me that?

Which of course has Lambert a little iffy, because this Aiden is human and no fucking away is he letting this Aiden anywhere near a monster, but Aiden is like, nah, relax, I just want to learn because sword fighting is really cool. Look, I'm really good with a knife, teach me some cool sword stuff. 

So Lambert gets to teach Aiden some cool sword stuff. And how to make bombs, which Aiden LOVES. And maybe some alchemy, too, because Aiden asks about the potions and Lambert is very adamant that he never drinks any but Aiden likes at least knowing how to make them. It's fascinating. You all fucking know you would love to make potions out of gross monster parts and herbs if you had the chance, don't even lie. Lambert even shows off some signs and Aiden is delighted. 

This eventually leads to one of those serious conversations about what it takes to become a witcher, and what all Lambert went through, and how people view witchers. And Aiden gets it, maybe not completely, but he gets the just of it. Because he knows about the other Lambert's past, and his shitty father, and all that stuff. And Aiden's brown, and people don't like that. And he's gay, and people don't like that either. Lambert's whole thing kind of reminds him of the X-men. 

And Lambert doesn't know what the fuck that is so Aiden explains comics and superheroes and the X-men to him. 

Because in his world they don't have witchers or magic, so they make up stories that have people like witchers, that have magic, and in those stories, those people sometimes face very similar prejudices. So to Aiden, Lambert is a lot like a superhero. 

And Lambert's like uh huh, no way, definitely not any kind of hero, that's pretty boy's job. 

To which Aiden responds, no, I definitely think you're a hero, even if you don't, so suck it up. 

And they probably kiss and stuff. 

Eventually Aiden gets restless and he's curious about the rest of the Continent, and he's tired of wearing Geralt's ill-fitting clothes because he's used to skinny jeans and shit so he gets Lambert to take him into Beauclaire for clothes. 

And Beauclaire is fucking beautiful, he loves it. 

The clothes are okay. Eventually he just asks Lambert what he used to wear and they go see the armorer instead. Aiden's not entirely sure about it, because Lambert looks like he's swallowed a mouthful of tacks when he sees Aiden in the Cat armor, even without the chest piece or the gauntlets, but Lambert assures him that he's fine. 

It just doesn't quite ease the restlessness. So the next time Ciri pops in, Aiden asks for her help and together they scheme. The next day, Aiden tells Lambert to go find something to entertain himself with for awhile because he needs to spend some quality time with his BFF. 

A few hours later they find Lambert sulking out in the vineyard, Aiden looking fine and fresh in a brand new pair of skinny jeans that show off his very nice ass, and some well-fitting combat boots that aren't nearly as durable as actual leather boots on the Continent but they have studs and buckles and look really cool.

Lambert is torn between thinking Aiden looks like a fucking idiot and thinking that he's never wanted to fuck Aiden more in his life.

Then Aiden drops the news that he also put together an outfit for Lambert because in his world, when you're interested in courting someone, the first thing you do is take them on a date. And he wants to take Lambert on the most stereotypical first date. What's that? Why the movies, of course! There's an X-men movie that just came out (I don't know which one, okay? I don't watch the X-men. You figure it out.) and he thought, maybe, he could show Lambert a little bit of the world he came from. They wouldn't be there for long, and they wouldn't be going to a theater anywhere near where Aiden's old gang would be. Nothing would be tied to Aiden's name, and he would be with Lambert, so he would be safe. 

It's a big change from the Continent. 

Lambert's never seen so many fucking people in his LIFE. Aiden had warned him about cars and technology and Lambert is pretty quick witted so while he's absolutely amazed, he manages to take it in stride pretty well. The thing that throws him off the most is when they go to buy popcorn and the girl at the counter goes, "Oh my god, I love your contacts! Where did you get them? They look so real!" 

Lambert doesn't know what the fuck contacts are, but Aiden steps in all smooth-like, "Fuck, Lamb, you've had those forever, haven't you? I think he got 'em off some cosplay site." 

Then he has to explain later that sometimes people put these little discs in their eye to help them see better or to change the color of their eyes for costume purposes. To which Lambert has the understandable reaction of, "Who in their right fucking mind would CHOOSE to do this to their fucking eyes?" 

Well, y'know, they can take contacts out whenever they want. It's a cosmetic thing. They don't know what you had to go through to get your eyes to look like that. You'll probably have some old conservative people eyeing you weird, thinking you're some Satanist or whatever, but most other people will just think it's a cool choice you made, to put those in to go to the movies.

The world is weird. Lambert can't decide if he likes it or hates it. 

He definitely likes the movie, though. And the popcorn. Probably finds the soda to be a little too sweet for his taste. There's still a lot of people, which makes him a bit on edge, but they came to the theater at an off time and not many people are actually in the room with them. They sit at the back and hold hands and Lambert decides he loves it. Ciri picks them up like a proud parent driving her kid and her kid's date home, only instead of driving she's teleporting and neither of them are her kids but whatever. 

But Aiden isn't done scheming. When they get back he tells Lambert to stay put and gets Ciri to take him back for one more little errand. 

A couple hours later they clang back into Corvo Bianco. CLANG back because each of them has a weird metal cart piled high with items and they're laughing their asses off. 

So you might be wondering, how did Ciri and Aiden afford clothes? They stole them. How did Aiden afford movie tickets and popcorn? He pick pocketed. Boy grew up on the streets. He knows how to steal wallets. And now they performed the greatest "run out the doors of Walmart with carts full of shit" EVER. Because as soon as they were out of sight, they teleported, no one the wiser. 

Aiden is thrilled with his non-purchases. Firstly, he has about a year's worth of toilet paper. he throws a package at Lambert, who's like, what the fuck is this. Toilet paper. What do you use it for? To wipe your ass after you shit, Lambert. Trust me. Once you use it, you'll never go back. It's a blessing, you'll thank me for it. There might not be indoor plumbing here, but god dammit, I want toilet paper.

He then hands Ciri two boxes of pads. Yeah, she was there shopping with him, but he just kind of dumped stuff in carts without explaining anything, and while Ciri knows what most of the things are, do you really think she's thought about how other worlds deal with menstruation? Because I menstruate, and the thought would genuinely not cross my mind. I would continue using whatever method I used back in my original world. So Aiden leans in to whisper what they are, because he's polite, and he becomes her favorite uncle just like that. And when Geralt and Lambert are like, uh, what? She tells them it's for menstruating and, "Oh, don't make that face at me, Geralt. I bleed, it happens."

Aiden admits that most of the other purchases are for Lambert, and when Lambert tires to protest Aiden makes it very clear that everything he bought is NORMAL in his world. Not even luxury, just NORMAL, so Lambert just needs to shut up and let Aiden make his life a little easier. 

First up, sunglasses. Because Lambert mentioned how painful it can be to take Cat and then step out into sunlight before the potion has run out. He tosses a pair at Lambert, who tries them on with a frown and is like, "Oh. Huh. Alright. These might actually be pretty useful." Aiden got himself a pair too. They match. There's also a tent. It folds up pretty small, but witchers travel, right? And Lambert mentioned how shit it is to camp in the rain, so here's a tent that’s better than the shit you can buy on the Continent. You lay out your bedroll in it, and you don't have to worry about bugs, and it helps protect you against the weather. It's small, but it looks kind of easy to put up, should be durable enough. 

And maybe just big enough for two, because Aiden isn't stupid. Eventually Lambert will need to take to the Path again, and Aiden wants to comes too. He wants to see the Continent. He can't help with the monsters, he knows, but maybe he can do something else to help them earn money. Who knows, right? This world isn't run by capitalism. He could make a living doing nearly anything. He can figure something out. 

He even got a water filter, and a couple filter replacements because witchers can probably drink any kind of stagnant water they want but he would rather not die of dysentery, thanks. And he got himself a sleeping bag. And he got Lambert a very, very soft fleece blanket just because he thought Lambert would like it. (He does.) Oh, also, Lambert, smell this soap. And this shampoo. Using a bar of soap has not done Aiden's hair any favors, he got actual fucking shampoo. The BIG bottle. And now Lambert has some nice pomade to use in his hair instead of bear fat. Won't make his hair greasy plus it smells better. Also there's bubble bath, just because. And beard oil for Lambert. Some moisturizer. Here, Lambert, put on some chap stick. Trust me, you'll love it. 

They set out on the Path and it's not always easy because Aiden worries CONSTANTLY. But Lambert is good at what he does. The few times they're ambushed, Lambert always keeps Aiden safe, because in this household everyone fucking survives. 

Aiden likes seeing Lambert in action. He swoons and calls Lambert his hero. 

There are some stunning places to visit on the Continent. Aiden's favorite are the elven ruins they sometimes come across. Only after Lambert deals with the wraiths, though. 

Aiden learns how to play Gwent. He's not that good at it. Aiden learns how to cheat at Gwent. He's VERY good at it. Lambert teaches him how to fish with bombs. Aiden is fucking delighted. 

Eventually he realizes how he can make money. He copywrites Disney. 

He's no bard. He can't sing or play an instrument. But he CAN tell stories, and no matter how much you hate Disney, there are probably a lot of Disney movies everyone can quote by heart, and they're either already time-period approved, or they can easily be adapted into something time period approved. Lambert comes back from a hunt to find the entire tavern listening to Aiden with rapt attention while he's in the front of the room putting on a one man performance of the whole, "I am Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die," while jumping back and forth to play each part. He's clearly having a blast with it, because who doesn't love telling other people every little detail about their favorite movie? 

As he's heading upstairs with Lambert, he just keeps raving about how he can't believe he actually made money with that. He hands Lambert a handful of coins, just like, "I don't know how much money this is, but look, it's money!"

Which probably leads to some conversation about capitalism and how easy it was in his world to feel insignificant, to feel like everything is pointless, and how much happier he is with Lambert. How it's even given him a new outlook on the world he came from. He doesn't want to go back, per se, but he doesn't want to completely leave either. He wants to show Lambert the best parts of it, to re-experience his world through Lambert, to really feel the amazement of it all the way he's supposed to, the way that's so easy to stop doing when you're actually living there. It's so easy to take it all for granted, but when you're showing it to someone who's experiencing it for the first time, you can really appreciate it all. 

So every winter they head back to Toussaint and Ciri takes them back long enough for them to do something FUN. They play laser tag. They rope Geralt, Eskel, and Ciri into doing an escape room with them. They go kayaking. They do one of those rope courses and zip-line things. They go to an amusement park. A water park. They walk around a nature trail. They go to a comic convention. (Lambert wears his armor and so many people want pictures with him. He's just sad Aiden wouldn't let him bring his swords, the kids would have fucking loved to see a sword.) They have so much fun. And Aiden stocks up on modern supplies for the year while he's there. Another year's worth of toilet paper, a new tent, another fuzzy blanket, a few pairs of sunglasses because Lambert always ends up breaking his, a nice backpack because Lambert really likes having a bunch of different pockets in his bag for organizing things.

And you know what? Give it ten years, Aiden's bordering on his forties, and he finds some way to make himself functionally immortal. Magic, fairies, a curse, a blessing, I don't know, I don't care. Their plan becomes to live until one of them dies of something--probably Lambert, because he's the one Aiden always has to patch up (he now always buys a very large, well stocked first-aid kit from his world too) what with fighting monsters and all, and the other will follow. It's morbid, sure, but it works for them. With the way things are going, neither of them thinks they'll need to do that anytime soon anyway.

Basically, they live happily ever after, okay? 

HAPPILY EVER AFTER.

[kikis-writing-world]

Bug in the System

Summary: Reader has a complicated relationship with Nathan, living and working with him. They’ve always been nervous to bring up prescription medication, so shit hits the fan when they runs out and their mood plummets.

Pairing: Nathan Bateman x GN!Reader that struggles with mental health.

Word Count: 2k

Rating/Warnings: Mental health - depression and anxiety are expressly mentioned and reader is in a bad low. Talk of medication and ramifications of not taking them. Mention of doctors. Brief mention of sex. Worries of the stigma around mental health. Lots of swearing because it’s Nathan. Unedited/Betaed. it’s almost fluff in Nathan’s asshole way, there’s a happy ending.

A/N: I blame @foxilayde​ that I’m suddenly writing for Nathan... I hated him when I watched the movie and now here we are. Idk, this idea hit me last night while trying to fall asleep and I couldn’t get it out of my head. I had to write it.

You weren’t sure how to define the relationship you and Nathan had. He wasn’t your boyfriend - not only did that feel so juvenile, but also… he just wasn’t. There had never been a declaration of love between the two of you, no commitment to monogamy or even non-monogamy. The two of you lived together, worked together, slept together- it could almost be called a friends with benefits relationship, only… softer. You ate dinners together, danced around the house together, and cuddled together when watching movies. You also spent days, sometimes weeks at a time where you hardly spoke to each other when engrossed in a project. Did this form out of attraction, or emotion, or was it an inevitability when two adults - whose sexualities, attractions and availabilities lined up accordingly - lived together in isolation for an extended period of time? 

In summary: there was no easy way to define what was between the two of you, and you were happy there were no other humans around to ask. You didn’t feel the need to defend what you shared, but you had no desire to try to label it either.

Despite the friendly and casual nature of whatever the relationship was, there were still things that you had yet to admit to Nathan. The dwindling supply of medications tucked safely in a make-up bag inside the drawer of your bedside table felt like a ticking time bomb. You only had so many doses remaining and it wasn’t like you could walk down to the local pharmacy for a refill. Any supplies coming to the fortress of a home had to be called in, ordered, and helicoptered to you. There was no way to do it without Nathan finding out along the way.

You watched the pills slowly empty from their plastic bottles like a reverse hourglass. Despite the effects they had on your malfunctioning brain chemistry, they never quite tampered down the anxiety you had about opening up about your mental illness, let alone to someone like Nathan.

Nathan worked hard and played harder. He strove to be the best him he could be at all times. He accepted nothing less than perfection and no matter what the relationship between you two could be defined as -coworkers, employer/employee, friends, friends with benefits, lovers -  you didn’t want to disappoint him.

You avoided and avoided until inevitably, the last pill came out of the last bottle. It only got worse from there. Without the anxieties in check and the chemicals being balanced, the insecurity flared even worse. Your inner voice told you that you deserved the unhappiness flowing through you, that you should just stay in bed and give up since Nathan would kick you out of the house soon enough: he’d either get tired of your low mood, your falling productivity, or he’d discover your secret and be done with you.

He noticed. Of course he did. You stopped dancing, stopped cuddling, stopped fucking. Then you stopped eating, stopped talking, stopped leaving your room. You felt like you couldn’t get out of bed at all. You spent your time sleeping or curled up under your blankets in the dark room wishing you could sleep more. That or just disappear.

That was where Nathan found you, a month and a half after you’d run out of your meds.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” He barged into your room one morning… afternoon… you had no idea what time it was.

Nathan turned the light on and you could hear him pacing. “Are you sick? Do I need to call in a doctor? Are you even alive under there?! Hello?!”

You sighed, forcing yourself to sit up and prove you were alive, awake, and hearing him. The blankets dropped to your waist, revealing what you were sure was an absolute mess of a human. You knew what you looked like the last time you’d been brave enough to look in the mirror and you were sure it was even worse now.

Nathan cursed and you swear he nearly recoiled at the sight of you. “Are you in here dying on me or something?” He questioned. 

You weren’t sure how to answer, what you could possibly say to him.

“Hello?!” He snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Is anybody in there?!”

You blinked as he crowded you, hysterics growing as you seemingly ignored him. You could tell he was close to grabbing you and shaking you, and you didn’t know if your body could handle that. As it was, your muscles had protested sitting up. Instead, you leaned over and opened your drawer, taking out the zippered make-up bag.

You tossed the pouch at him, hearing all the plastic bottles click together as it landed at his feet. He bent down to pick it up, opening it carefully like he thought some sort of creature might jump out at him. His brows furrowed when he saw the bottles inside and dumped them out onto the mattress.

“Are these all empty? Fuck did you take these?” He questioned, panic rising in his voice. “Are you trying to OD on me or something? Shit.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, about to call for help.

“No.” You croaked. “Well, yeah. I took them… but… they’re my meds.” You gave in. “I’ve been taking them since I got here. I[was taking until they ran out.”

Nathan looked down at the bottles, picking one up as he read the label. “What are they for?”

“Depression mostly. Anxiety.” You shrugged, listing the simple ones.

Nathan was quiet as he read the bottles. You had no idea if he knew what any of them meant. It’s not like the labels read “Take one daily to stop the crazies!” The names, the dosages, the frequencies meant nothing to someone with no experience… but then again, Nathan wasn’t just anyone.

“How long?” He sighed, turning to sit on the edge of the bed.

You would have deflated if you didn’t already feel as low as you could go. Having assumed the worst, you weren’t surprised he couldn’t look at you.

“I was diagnosed in junior year-”

“No, I mean how long have you been without your meds?” He interrupted you, turning to stare  you down.

“A month.” You shrugged. “Almost two.”

“For fucks sakes.” He grumbled, turning to his phone again and typing away.

“I’ll pack my shit. Just, give me a few days and I’ll go.” You mumbled, laying down on your side and facing away from him. You didn’t want to watch him posting for a new assistant or scheduling the pick-up or whatever he was doing. You’d wallow for a bit, probably take a nap, and then you’d pack anything here that was important. Fuck the rest. You didn’t have the energy. You didn’t care.

“The fuck are you talking about?” He asked distractedly, like he hadn’t heard you as his cogs of his brain jumped to life. He did that a lot when he was preoccupied. He would hear your voice, realize you’re talking, but not absorb the words. Sometimes he needed to ask 3 or 4 times until you gave up and texted him instead.

“I’m bringing in a doctor. You need to get checked out before you start back up on anything. You’re not supposed to go off of these without supervision. Says so right here. Black and white.” He chastised you.

You frowned, looking over your shoulder in confusion. You saw him still typing away on his phone, holding one of the empty, orange-tinted bottles in his hand. He set it down, picking up another. He took a picture, looking over the label quickly for himself before setting it back down.

“What are you doing?”

“Sending him the labels so he knows what he’s walking into. Why the fuck would you just stop taking your meds?” He sniped. “Why didn’t you get more? I fucking ask you if you need shit and you just conveniently forget your pills?”

You picked at a thread of the blanket, not wanting to watch him as he grew angrier with you. As soon as you were in good health and his conscience was clear, he’d be rid of you. You were sure of it. It was more than you’d expected to be honest.

You heard the quiet noise from his phone, indicating the email had been sent. That meant his attention wasn’t divided as he rounded back on you.

“Why won’t you answer me? It’s like fucking talking to a wall or something. If I wanted one-sided conversations, I never would have brought you up here. Why didn’t you get more?!”

You took a shuddering breath before answering. “I didn’t want you to know.”

“Know what? That you take medication?” He scoffed in disbelief.

The room was quiet as you didn’t answer, but you could practically hear his brain processing, whirring like a computer with a squeaky exhaust fan.

“Hey, look at me.” He ordered, his voice dropping in volume to a kinder tone, but it was still not a request. It was a demand. You sat up again, looking at him stare at you with dark, angry eyes.

“When a program isn’t working, do you throw away the whole CPU or do you debug it and fucking find the fix?” He asked. You didn’t answer, assuming it was rhetorical.

“Your software is fucked, and these,” he picked up one of the bottles to hold up between you two. “These are the fix. Why the fuck would you be embarassed about shit like that?”

You shrugged your shoulders, dropping your gaze again. “You’re…” you struggled to find the words, but Nathan jumped on your train of thought frighteningly quick.

“Me?! So it’s my fault? I eat brown rice and salad and work out every day so I’m some health nut hippy who wouldn’t understand, is that it?”

He was putting words into your mouth, but he was essentially getting the point. You were scared he would reject you, mock you, think less of you.

He crawled towards you on the bed, cupping your chin a little too tight as he lifted your face. He was clearly done having you look away from him. “I’m a fucking reclusive genius who lives in the middle of ass fuck nature and only lets people come and go with a goddamn keycard! Do you not think I’m self-aware enough to realize that? A fucking prodigy, multi-millionaire by 15, CEO of the most successful technology company in history. The President calls me and I hit ignore. Do you really think I’m not self-aware enough to know we all have our own brand of fucked up?” He laughed.

“If you need these to get through it, to be my little genius-” He released your jaw to cup your face in both hands, giving it a shake. “To keep up with my shit, to live here without losing your mind at the isolation, to be my dance partner and dinner partner and movie date - then fucking take them. Would I be having to tell you this if it was for your blood pressure or a heart condition or something?!”

His phone buzzed and he released his hold on you, leaning back to read the message that had just come through.

“Doc’s gonna be here tomorrow morning. Gotta keep you hydrated until then and you should try to eat.” He summed up the message as his eyes skimmed the screen. He tucked his phone back into his pocket before slapping your blanket-covered thigh. “What are we eating tonight? Your choice.”

“I’m not hungry.” You mumbled.

“Not an option!” He declined as he stood off the bed. “What are we eating?”

You sighed, letting your head fall back as you thought. “Grilled cheese?”

“And tomato soup? Coming right up.” He leaned over to you, cupping the back of your head as he pulled you close enough to kiss the top of your head. “Rest. I’ll bring it in when it’s ready.”

Tagging: @wickedfrsgrl @din-damn-djarin @dinthisisthe-wayson @seasonschange-butpeopledont @kesskirata​ 

[whet-ones-write]

Fixing Kai -  a Overhaul x Fem!Reader

First posted on my AO3 and forgot to post here- lmao Whoops! Anyway Enjoy! Warnings: 18+ NSFW / Surgery mention / Binding - Being Tied down.

Word Count: 3446

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

“You know that’s not very nice.” You said as you looked up at the masked villain above you. “I fix your arms time and time again, and this is how you treat me?” You sigh, shaking your head. “Glad to know i’m appreciated around here.” Rolling your eyes up at the figure above you as he got up with a grunt. 

 “Now Kai, you need to sit and get your rest. I know that’s something you don’t want to do but you tore yourself up pretty badly.” And as much as you knew it, he probably would not listen to you again, which is why you used your quirk to make sure he stayed in the bed he had already stained crimson with blood. “If you keep moving you could re-open the wounds I've stitched up and don’t even get me started on your bones.” You growled quietly as you shifted your stance. “Still, there’s no need for these bindings eh Angel?”

 “You could be a good boy and stay put.”  Even with the scolding it did not change the fact that you did not budge or remove the bindings. “I know you better than that.” He smirked as you took a seat at your desk, hunching over and looking over his charts. “The moment I let go, you’ll go for your knives and try and hurt me for tying you up like this, even if I am your precious Angel.” You mused, clearly unimpressed with his attempts of flattery. 

 “And such a special Angel you are.” He sighed happily as he lay back watching you. “You don’t break like anyone else and you’re oh so useful to me. You take care of me like no one else does.” He offered charmingly.

 “Yeah and no one fixes your messes like I do eh?” Rolling your eyes you leaned back in your chair. “If it weren’t for me you could be bleeding out right now. Not only that, getting you out was hard enough; having you imprisoned like you were. Still, you need to take at least a week's rest rather than getting into fights.” You started to explain much to his dismay. 

 “Your arms are rather fucked up, but I'm getting close to making a break though.” You informed him. Glacing to you, it was clear you had his interest. This meant you could let the bindings go and like the good boy was going to be, he could remain as you explained. 

“I’m close to getting your new arms compatible with your quirk. We know that you had to touch someone for you to use it, so naturally even though mentally you wanted to use them you couldn’t, something was missing.. With your blood samples I have been able to determine that not only mentally do you need to be willing to activate it but it also lies within your nervous system. Although you have robotic arms which you can use, we know from practice that you can’t use your quirk just yet and because of the lack of connections.” Scratching your head you flipped the page as he continued to listen to you clearly excited for the possibility to be back to normal. 

 “So I’m going to need you to be in top physical condition so I can perform the surgery needed to make sure you can use your arms and quirk to its fullest again. I can’t give you any anesthetic at the time of the surgery because if I did, I can’t be sure if your arms will be connected to your nervous system as well as your brain realising you have your limbs back. They’re just a few days away so when your bones are healed we can give it a go, you should be able to help cure the world again should it all go according to my plan.” 

 “I knew I could count on you, my Angel. I thought I had lost all hope when I was trapped in that God forsaken prison.” He stated as he glanced over at you. “It was so bright and so lonely there by myself. I couldn’t even feed myself at the time. They forced me to have a pump to my stomach for it to be filled with food, I had almost missed chewing and tasting food.” He admitted thinking back on the several months he spent there. “Then again I suppose it was also my own fault over the fact that I trusted the bastard Shigraki but still, he will get what’s coming to him for double crossing me.” He smiled at the thought shutting his eyes as he relaxed back. “He will be one of the first ones I cure. He’s such a sick little boy isn’t it? Always scratching, so dry and flaky. Yes, he shall be the first to be cured once I am able to. Give him some moisturizer at that.” He mused as he opened his eyes to you.

 He wasn’t one for feelings too much, he didn’t have time for them unless he was trying to get others to help him, he could pull at other’s feelings but rather not show that particular weakness himself but there was something about you that just made him sick.  Love sick that is, and he knew there was no cure of this illness but he did not mind. Sometimes you have to be sick in order to get stronger, and that’s how he viewed this situation. It was not often you were in trouble but when you were he would always be there to help. His sickness made it so your protection and safety was more important than his own. On top of that you believed in him which is why you gathered other’s to help him break free. 

 Even though all that though you never gave up on him, and what was his dream soon became the both of yours. You were the one that built his very first arms, and something that he would always treasure before he was able to get into contact with some people that could really make a difference for him. After all in this day and age, a loss of a limb should not keep a sick human down, so why should someone like him that doesn’t suffer, be handicapped.

 “Well it still won’t be for some time yet.” You explained as you rubbed your temple. “You still have to heal as much as you can while we wait for your arms to come in. I will have to make some adjustments to your shoulders, neck and head and it will be risky but the pay off? It’ll be life changing that’s for sure.” You mused before leaning back and looking at him. “You’ll have cybernetic arms, that has your blood flowing through them and on top of that you’ll be able to use your power to cure again.” Smiling at that statement, you got up to turn off the lights. “So rest well sir, the sooner you heal up, the sooner we can get you all better.” Smiling as you left him alone in the room so he could think it over.

 Yes you were so beautiful in your working uniform. A plague mask much like his own but pure in white, to symbolise your cleanliness, the light in the darkness of his goal, as well as matching your white lab coat, announcing to others you were his own private doctor and he’ll be damned if the black trousers you wore got him all hot and bothered. Still a temporary cure will come to him soon enough for his love sickness. He can and will show you just how much you mean to him and how damn sexy you look in your uniform. 

 ~ ~

 When the time came for the surgery you were more nervous than anything. What if something went wrong?. What if you were not quick enough and ended up having him bleed out? You did not have anyone to assist you if something went wrong, because anyone else would just get in the way of what you were trying to do. It seemed simple on paper what you had to do but working on an actual body was different. On top of that you had done some test runs on some animals to try and help them get back to what society saw as normal and after a few attempts, things looked up for the better but the failures still weighed heavy on you and even Chisaki could see that.

 You were stuck scrubbing your arms as you mutter to yourself about the process, what you had to do to an obsessive extent before your trance was snapped, bringing you back down to earth and looking at him. 

 Having placed a kiss on your cheek gently, he looked over you with a small sigh. “Do not fret. I do not die so easily.” He smiled at that, leaning in and kissing your forehead. “I am all healed and ready for this. I know the risks. I know what might happen but Angel, I trust you like no one else.” He explained as he took a seat on the operating table “You’ve been there with me right from the start. Through thick and thin and you have been there healing those in need. The children I've brought to you as well as my fellow colleagues that needed treatment. You are the best that I trust and you have the best equipment we can afford. You’ve looked over your plans obsessively to the point I'm sure you’re speaking them in your sleep. You’ve got plans for every eventuality, there’s no one I love and trust more to do this then you. You have this, just stay calm, relaxed and I’ll be happy to talk the entire time. After, if I stop talking I might just be brain dead, and I’m sure you don’t want that now hmm?” Teasing, you sighed in response, shaking your head. He was always like this in tense situations between you both, just trying to find the light side of life with smiles and laughs. 

 “Even so, if you’re ready I am, and we can begin.” You stated, waiting for his go ahead. Letting him remain sat up, it meant you could work around his back and shoulder completely so you can get to exactly where you need to be. 

 “Of course Angel, lets begin.” He smiled, keeping his eyes open as he watched the door behind you as you began your long and painful work.

“Okay Kai, I’m going to go collect the shopping that we need but I want you to remain in bed.” You tell him as you step around the room; laid on the soft and clean bed, Kai was still resting post-op some time ago.

 “I ain’t going anywhere any time soon.” He replied, letting out a low sigh as he shifted in the bed. Even though no anaesthetic could be used during the operation, you had given him some after; he needed time to recover and relax after all.

 However you knew what he was like, you knew what would happen if you left him alone for more than a handful of minutes. With a slight tap of your chin with your gloved finger, you made your way over and gently placed his new wrists into the restrains.

 You had all of them fastened before Kai realised what was going on, quickly fastening the last restraint over his chest and tightening it enough that he could not move more than he needed to.

 “Hey! What’s the problem! Unfasten me! I said I won’t move okay!”

 “I know that Kai and I trust you but, you know what you’re like. Plus if you move more than you need to it could cause damage to your new limbs; irreparable damage. I would be negligent if I let that happen. I’ll only be gone for about half an hour at most. Just… Sit tight okay?”

 With a soft sigh, Kai looked away; pouting like a child as he grumbled a “Fine” under his breath.

 “Don’t worry. I won’t be long. I tell you what, I’ll bring you something nice.” Winking your grinned as you shut the door behind you letting him get the rest he would need still. 

 ~ ~

 You ran back as fast as you could, how could today have been so… so… He was going to kill you! You knew it!

 You just could not get away, every time you were due to get away from someone you were once again dragged away; you couldn’t exactly tell them that you had one of the biggest criminals tied down in one of your off the books surgeries could you?

 Busting in through the door and dropping the bags you were carrying, your eyes landed on the empty bed and the removed restrains. “Oh no…”

 “Oh no indeed.” A voice spoke from behind you and quickly spinning on your heel you were face to face with Kai.

 “Oh thank goodness Kai, I am so sorry, I don’t know what happened and-” Your words were quickly cut off when you were pushed back onto the bed.

 “Oh yes, you will be sorry. Five hours, FIVE FUCKING HOURS I was left on the bed!” He turned his head slightly and gritted his teeth under his mask.

 “Please Kai, I’m sorry. I tried to get away and they kept…” You began but could not finish as you were pushed back again. As you fell back on the bed, Kai gripped your wrist and began to strap the restraint over it.

 “Oh you’ll be sorry. We’ll see what you can do to make it up to me for this.” He grinned under his mask and walked around the other side of the bed, quickly grabbing your other wrist. In a panic you kicked and yelled but he was much stronger than you, even with his new arms and post op recovery.

 “Kai… Kai… What are you doing? Untie me. Please.” You begged but he just towered over you at the foot of the bed.

 “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you Doc, I’m just going to make you regret keeping me tied up for five hours.” He leaned forward and tapped your foot. “Just sit tight okay?”

 The breath in your chest hung as you thought what he could do, the punishments a villain like him could put upon someone; you had seen him seriously hurt many people. He wouldn’t do that to you would he?

 Closing your eyes tight as he leaned over, you were surprised by what he did first.

 Laughter burst out of your lungs as he began to tickle your feet, under arms and under your kneecaps. Why did he know exactly where to tickle you! Stretching up and pulling at the restraints you laughed hard, coughing and choking as you tried to breath. Finally begging to stop worked as he stepped back. Circling the bed like a vulture in the desert with its prey in sight, Kai stopped behind your head, leaning over he looked at you and pulled his mask away slightly before removing your own for you.

 “Don’t worry Angel, I’m not going to kill you, or hurt you. Why would I? I’m just going to make you wish you’d never locked me up.” He grinned and gave your forehead a soft peck.

 Staring up at Kai, you were speechless, a hot flush running along your cheeks at the kiss off your forehead.

 “Look at you, all red and flustered, you’d think that you had a crush on me.” Kai grinned as he towered over you. Your eyes quickly turned away as he mentioned it.

 “Yeah… that would be silly.” You mumble and Kai let out a loud laugh.

 “I’m not stupid you know Angel, I know you like me; I mean…” He reached out and flicked his finger; a loud gasp left your lips and you looked down at your body to see you flushes stained cheeks. “You really like being tied up don’t you Angel? Have you ever tried it?”

 Nervously you nod. “A few times… but…”

 “But what? You’ve never been with anyone for long?”

 You nod slowly and bite your lip.

 “Me too.” Kai replied and sighed. “Look Angel… I… I might be a bit of an arsehole but… I appreciate everything you do… and… I… I kinda… like you too.”

 The two of you were silent as you stared up at him and he stared down at you. “Well… you… You have me here…” You mumble and then could not believe you said it. With a surprised smile Kai looked down at you.

 “Oh really now? For such an innocent doctor you really are needy aren't you?.” He laughed and grinned, slowly one hand went out of view and your vision went dark as something slapped you on the face. Warm, musky and… and… Wide eyed you stared up at Kai as you realised what was on your face.

 “So… if I was to put my dick here, what would you do?” Kai asked and you breathed slowly, nervously, you turned your head and opened your mind. The grin on Kai’s face as he stepped back slightly and thumbed his tip to your lips.

 “Good doc…” He purred and slowly began to slide inside your own lips. You’d never done this before in this position but already you wanted more. You were pretty skilled at this without your gag reflex and as Kai grunted, he reached out and put his hand on your bulging throat. With several slaps of your face with his balls, you could feel him tensing and getting faster.

 The warmth and suddenness of the act left you coughing and for once; gagging as your airways were filled. Stepping back and accidental slapping and dribbling over your face, Kai panted as he held himself up by the nearby wall.

 “Damn Angel… you… you’re…” He panted and after managing to cough and swallow as much as you can, you whimpered the words quietly. “Please… fuck me…”

 Kai stared over at you as the grin on his face began to grow. “As you prescribe doctor~.”

 Now laying on your front, the slap against your rear stung but… felt so good. You had dreamt of this in the dark nights and late work hours when you were alone, now it was going to happen and here you were; tied to a medical bed. This was not exactly the romantic night you expected; no dinner and no dancing, no long cuddling and foreplay; unless you classed the teasing as foreplay.

 ‘Oh god, that had been foreplay.’ You thought as you tried to look back at Kai, the way you were restrained meant you couldn’t turn your head very far. You saw his shoulder and his arms moving, grabbing something from the cupboard before turning back to you. A soft splurge noise and then a cold feeling down the crack of your rear. A soft gasp left your lips as you shuddered at the feeling.

 “Oh don’t be such a wuss Doctor, it’s only a bit of lubrication; unless you want me to go without?” Kai asked with a teasing tone to his voice.

 In a soft squeak you found your voice whimpering out. “N… no…”

 “Alright then.” Kai whispered and let his hand drop his cock down onto your waiting hole. You felt the heavy weight on your cheeks, the warmth passing through the cold lube and to your now chilled rear. The air in your lungs hung deep and you had to think hard to remember to breathe.

 “Ready Angel?” He asked in a soft tone and you nodded, letting out a soft whimper as you did so.

 The first bit of pressure began and you closed your eyes, soft breaths and relaxing thoughts as you tried to loosen your body. The only issue was it did not stop, you tried to relax but the pressure built and built; when would that damn head pass!

 When it did, the feeling of the pop through your body and the sudden half-thrust brought a loud gasp from your lips.

 “You sound so cute there Angel, you enjoying it?”

 “Hmm hmm.” You manage to reply.

 “Well let's let you relax and get used to this, because I’m going to give you this and then I’m going to wreck you. You want that?”

 “Hmm hmm.” You manage to reply again. Kai let out a soft chuckle and began to buck his hips.

 The night could not last long enough.

[luverofralts]

Post Arkhelios

Adam stayed by his nephew’s side as long as he was allowed. He hadn’t been allowed in the operating room, but there was no removing him from the recovery area.

The bullet had gone clean through Roman’s chest, so fortunately there was nothing to remove, and once the bullet was found, it could easily be compared to the one that had killed Abraham Helios. Roman had lost a lot of blood, and there was still considerable damage caused by the bullet, but everyone agreed that he’d likely recover from this attack. Malika had stumbled upon him in just enough time to save him.

Malika had been equally difficult to remove from the recovery area. Adam at least had staff privileges, while Malika was in the recovery area by sheer force of will. No one dared escort her out when she was that intense about staying. The hospital hadn’t really hired any security in the past decade since their previous most serious case had been Zane Hydes eating fifty grilled cheese sandwiches in one night and becoming quite ill from it. They’d never needed security to take on family members overstepping proper procedures before. At least both Wanda and Salem were directly impacted by Roman’s shooting, and probably would approve any budget increase the hospital asked for.

There had been another positive change caused by the shooting. Malika had actually embraced her son Adam, and he may have been hallucinating it, but he thought he may have heard her whisper that she was proud of him. After years of her being indifferent at best towards him, Adam wasn’t sure he knew how to process this sudden display of maternal praise.

Omar and Kamalani were so beside themselves with worry, they didn’t even bicker with each other as they sat next to their unconscious son. Omar left his spouses and kids at home for obvious reasons, but Wbuna had sent along homemade muffins to supplement the horrible cafeteria food in support of the family. Salem had eaten a few before Malika’s arm had “slipped” and dropped them in the trash.

“I should have had him living with me,” Omar groaned finally. “This would never have happened if I-”

“If what?” Kamalani snapped. “What would you have done? What have you ever done?”

“What have I done? I didn’t abandon him for months without any explanation or even a goodbye.”

“No, you just let your incompetent parents raise him for you, until he let a Helios seduce him into breaking-”

“Kamalani!” Malika’s voice cut across the room sharply and her ex-daughter in law’s mouth snapped closed immediately. The two women shared a knowing stare that Omar couldn’t interpret.

“Well, I’ll be fighting to get custody of him again. He’s going to need his father more than ever after this,” he declared and nearly everyone in the room tried to stifle a laugh.

“Oh honey, we all appreciate you trying to lighten the mood, but now isn’t the time for joking,” Malika chided, tousling his hair like he was still ten years old.

Someone needed to hold down the fort at the Bellamy home, and Wanda and Hunter volunteered. They chased off some reporters, and checked in every hour with the hospital, but were otherwise left alone with their thoughts.

“This is all so crazy,” Wanda said. “Nothing makes sense.”

“I know, who would want to shoot Roman? He’s just a kid.”

Wanda wasn’t entirely sure about how to broach the subject of motive with her husband. She’d been having doubts for weeks now about anything concerning Roman’s recent troubles. Kamalani was as rude to her as the blood related Bellamys, and it was no surprise that Malika had Kamalani around more than her actual son. The two of them were both vipers hiding behind a deception of sincerity. But what were their real motives? Wanda got to be included in simple things like summoning Roman, but was left out of their private tea times, and whispered conversations in the yard.

“Don’t you think it’s strange that the person who killed Abraham shot to kill him, and then shot Roman clear of any major arteries or organs?”

Hunter frowned.

“Maybe they were a lousy shot,” he replied. “It doesn’t matter, I’m just thankful that he’s going to pull through this. He could have just as easily bled out.”

Wanda picked at the corner of one of her nails absently. This needed to be said in the right way.

“Don’t you think it’s odd that your mother was walking in Factory Park so late at night, just in time to find Roman?”

Hunter’s frown grew deeper.

“No, she got a text message from the killer. That’s why Roman went too. She’s lucky to not have been a victim as well.”

“I know, but she...” Wanda paused and changed tactics. “Have you noticed anything strange happening lately? Especially around Roman? I saw him throwing chairs at his bedroom window the other day, trying to break the glass.”

Hunter shrugged.

“He’s a troubled kid,” he replied. “A lot’s changing in his life and he’s acting out.”

Wanda shook her head adamantly.

“No, it’s more than that. Kamalani and your mother talk about him all the time, but stop talking the instant I get close to them. He’s been cooped up in this house for several weeks, and never once left to see Abe who lives basically down the street. You’re telling me that Roman, the boy who runs away from everything, stayed voluntarily in this house when he could be sneaking out to see his boyfriend?”

Hunter’s shoulders stiffened, and Wanda knew she’d pushed a bit too hard, too quickly.

“What are you saying? That Roman should have died because Abraham died? That my nephew is usually out roaming the streets looking to impregnate other teens and him trying to spend a time of crisis with our family for support is suspicious?”

“Yes!” Wanda blurted out, too frustrated to care anymore. “Yes, he should have died! Just like my brother died! Your mother had no time to see and react to the text and still make it to that park in time to save him.” Her hands clenched into fists. “This family is insane, and it would be insane to expect support from them! Your brothers are thrown out of your family now, but they were never really included in the family before! Who lets their son’s ex-wife stay in their house, while shunning their son? Omar’s a bit dull, but he’s way better than Kamalani! And Roman has been a budding sociopath as long as he’s lived with your parents. He has no friends his age, and keeps condoms that he uses with someone in his wallet. For god’s sake, you could tell me that he shot Abraham and I would believe it. I try and I try with that kid, and nothing outside of being with Abe seems to get through to him. No wonder both of his parents abandoned him here!”

Wanda was practically hyperventilating. All of her frustrations, all the little micro aggressions she’d had to endure while living here spilled out of her, and for the first time in months, her chest didn’t feel burdened down by the Bellamy family.

Hunter said nothing, but Wanda could see the anger burning in his eyes. He stood up slowly and headed for the hall.

“It’s been a very stressful night, and tensions are running high,” he stated with the same bitter edge to his voice as his mother. “I think that maybe it would be for the best if you spent the night with Melvin. To clear your head.”

Wanda rested her head against the smooth wall outside of the hospital main entrance. She and Hunter had never really fought before, and she didn’t like feeling out of sync with him. There was so much adding up that she didn’t understand about the Bellamys, and about Arkhelios itself. Maybe a night apart would help give Hunter some perspective on his family. Maybe it would help her decide if she truly wanted to be a part of the Bellamy family at all. She would go spend the night on Melvin’s couch, and they would put their heads together and solve this nightmare once and for all. The constant stream of funerals had to end before the entire population of Arkhelios was buried in the church yard.

Still, she felt bad about what she’d said about Roman, especially since he was still in such bad shape. Could she be wrong about having suspicions about his injuries? Maybe he had just been luckier than Abraham and she was forcing connections to help her cope with how her brother had not been quite so lucky. She decided to pop in to see Roman quickly before she headed to Melvin’s just to ease her guilt. Maybe supporting the Bellamys when their guard was down was the key to winning them over. If they endured this all together, they would have some common ground to work with.

The hospital wasn’t very big, and had a limited amount of rooms for Roman to be in. She found Salem and Omar napping on couches in a waiting area, with several empty styrofoam cups of hospital coffee strewn across a nearby table.

Well if they’re able to sleep, that probably means Roman is doing okay.

She peeked into the first room on the left. Nope. Empty.

She wandered to the next room down the hall. No, no Roman. She was about to continue her search when she heard familiar voices echo down the hall. Malika was crying to the point of actual sobs, which made Wanda extremely uncomfortable. Malika never broke down and showed her feelings, especially if they made her look vulnerable. It felt like an intrusion to hear her in this state, but this brief glimpse into Malika’s actual feelings may be the only chance Wanda ever got to understand her bewildering mother in law. She hid in the room she’d entered behind the door, and strained to hear what was being said just up the hall. Thank god the hospital walls were poorly made and exceptionally thin.

“I...I can’t get the blood out of my coat,” Malika sobbed, and Wanda could hear Kamalani make comforting shushing sounds.

“It’s okay, we did what we had to. Things will be better now. You can buy a new coat.”

What they had to do? That probably just means the CPR.

“And my hands, under my nails...there’s a gaping hole in my grandson’s chest, I saw it! I practically raised him! I kissed him good night every time you gave him to us.” The sobs increased until Wanda could barely understand what she was saying. “And now I’ve watched him slowly start to die! People cut him open right in front of me! His shirt...bleeding...and pieces of bone....”

Malika was barely making sense and Wanda felt shame wash over her, listening to a grandmother grieve this horrible trauma. Maybe Hunter was right, and there wasn’t anything deeper to Roman’s shooting. Malika had been lucky to find Roman when she did. The stars had just aligned correctly to save Roman. He had beat the odds, and Zane simply didn’t. Just random chance.

“Shhh,” Kamalani whispered. It sounded like Malika was calming down. “’Screw your courage to the sticking place’, remember? You know what’s at stake here, and our plan is working. That Helios boy almost came here once already. With Roman immobile, he’ll be drawn here eventually. Arkhelios can be saved. Roman will be saved.”

A chill ran down Wanda’s spine and she pressed harder against the wall instinctively. She definitely didn’t want to be discovered now.

This had been the wrong thing to say, and Malika started sobbing once more.

“His-His eyes though! I saw him look at me when he fell. When he struggled to breathe! I thought when we started this it would be easy, but I can't forget the look on his face. The smell of his blood! I can only pretend that I don't know for so long. How do I tell him when he wakes up? How can I make him understand?”

Kamalani sighed heavily, clearly growing impatient with her ex-mother in law.

“Tell him that you weren’t involved. That you found him after I left. You’re not the one who pulled the trigger after all. He may not even remember seeing you there, or confuse it for when you called Adam." A long pause and more sobbing carried over the air to Wanda. "If it makes you feel less guilty, I can shoot you too. That will throw suspicion off of you.”

Wanda had to clasp a hand over her mouth to keep from reacting.

Kamalani shot her own son? Why? And does this mean she killed Abraham too?

“You had one job this entire time,” Kamalani hissed as Malika’s sobs grew louder. “All you had to do was put him on a plane and keep writing checks until some duke or prince caught his interest and you couldn’t even manage that. Now how do you think he'll feel when Abe turns up dead? You could have spared him that pain if you'd only stopped this when I warned you."

Complete silence fell in the hospital. The only sound was the faint hum of the lights, and an occasional beep from down the hall. Wanda looked through the crack of the door hinges, and saw Malika poke her head out of the room they were in, looking for any sign of eavesdroppers. Salem and Omar were still sleeping and the woman at the front desk far down the hall seemed to be busy typing. Wanda held her breath, trying to remain as still as possible. Satisfied that they were alone, Malika ducked back into the room.

“What do you mean?” she hissed, shock replacing her tears. “Killing Abe was never part of the plan. We only need to prevent the child-”

“It’s been too long, that child could be born any day now and survive. Our only chance is to act swiftly, and end the threat immediately. You must realize how close to ruin Arkhelios is. A lot more people will die if Abe doesn’t. You know this, Malika! You were the one who chose this to begin with."

Malika sighed and seemed to be gathering her composure again. The cold mask she presented to the world (and especially to Wanda) was slipping back into place.

"You're right," she admitted. "I don't have the stomach for the act itself, but it's necessary. We've been too subtle, too timid hoping that this will resolve itself. Roman will understand one day, and if he doesn't, then maybe he'll feel pushed to leave Arkhelios on his own."