#sometimes i think maybe there's something biological goin on with that or if it's just a coincidence

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

sometimes i do a little self reflection and if i weren't the awesomest person in the world i'd almost think i'm insufferable

[dailykeiji]

How do feel about keijis dad. How do you interpret his biological sperm donor?

well first of all i want you to never refer to him as keiji's Biological Sperm Donor ever again. but..... hm........... hard 2 say!! keiji never really mentions his dad, so it's hard to interpret what's goin on with him. i don't really have a proper image for him in my head, because personally i've always imagined that he was just like. a deadbeat who either left around the time keiji was born or sometime when he was a kid. i don't think about him too hard. but there are many different ways u could interpret him...... perhaps he's actually a fine dad and keiji just never brings him up because he's never relevant. maybe keiji just doesn't like him very much. he could be dead!! we don't know!!!!! many things 2 think about.........

i like to think that keiji not having a proper father figure in his life was the reason he latched onto mr policeman the way he did......... which also kinda reminds me of how sara latches onto keiji during the game (keiji didn't have a dad, got attached to the first father figure in sight- sara has a 'dad', but eventually has to comes to terms with the fact that she's adopted and that her dad's been raising her to fight in a death game her whole life, got attached to the first father figure in sight). parallels or something i don't analyze media

this got slightly off topic but ultimately my opinion keiji's dad is that i don't really have an opinion on keiji's dad!! i am much more interested in what him never being mentioned means...... thank u for the question :)

[amor-immortalem]

Everything Undesired chapter 11

Warning: victim blaming, emotinal abuse (Arella recounts her traumatic childhood/she should probably see a therapist to deal with her mommy issues.)

chapter 10

“It... It was my mother....”

The demon stares down at her with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape in shock at the revelation. What kind of mother says that to her own child? He laid his head down on the bed as she carried on because where would he even begin to start with all this?

“It started when my father died in a car crash when I was four... She said it was my fault because I had wanted to go out to the park and he took me. That I should feel guilty for asking for something so selfish, for seeking out his attention on one of his rare days off.... and then it just became common place to blame me for anything thing that she considered even remotely selfish or attention-seeking. Every bad thing that happened to our family was my fault and then... when I told her about what happened to me, she called me a whore. Told me I was probably just lying to get out of trouble and if I wasn’t, what did I expect from hanging around with a man seven years older than I was. That I deserved it and I only had myself to blame. She called me a disgrace to our family and tried to kick me out but when one of my friends’ parents threatened to call the authorities for child abandonment, she let me come back. All I had wanted was someone to tell me i-it wasn’t fault. All I wanted was to earn back her love.”

She let out a sob as she rattled on and Mammon lets her continue. The flood gates had been opened and even though she wanted to stop letting it out, Arella couldn’t.

“When she took her own life after my brother took his, her note for me was only filled with insults. How she wished I hadn’t been born. That I was ungreatful for the life she allowed me to have. That she always hated me and wished she hadn’t kept me. That she blamed me for my brother's death because I was too wrapped up in myself to keep him from doing it and how I would never find anyone who truly loved me because I didn’t deserve it. I thought about taking my life too because she was right. I was a horrible daughter- a horrible person. I loved her so much and that note left me shattered because I knew it was the truth.”

“No, it's not,” his voice is soft.

“Yes, it is! Please agree with me. You don’t have to spare my feelings. Look what I do with you. Whenever I see you talking to one of our female classmates, I always get selfish and interfere regardless of what you two were actually talking about.”

“And? It’s not like I’ve never done it with you. Arella, it is okay to be selfish sometimes and it don't make you a horrible person. You don’t have to bottle your sins all the time like you’ve been doin’. You live with representations of the seven sins, Babe. None of us are gonna care if ya indulge in greed or lust or envy or pride or any of the others for that matter every once in a while, because we do the same thing on a regular basis.”

Arella went to say something in rebuttal but stopped once the baby monitor went off. She tried to squirm out from under Mammon but he stopped her.

“Nu-uh, you’re not gettin' him. Let me take care of him tonight. You’re not gettin' out of this bed, got it?”

“B-But you were out all day with Asmo, aren’t you-”

“Take a break, Treasure.” he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I can handle him and if he’s really fussin’ for ya, I’ll bring him back here but I want you to be the selfish one for once in this relationship and take some time for yourself.” The demon rolls off her and heads see what his son needs.

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

As he managed to get close to the baby’s room, the crying suddenly stopped. The Avatar of Greed wonders if maybe Cyrus had just woken up from a bad dream and managed to comfort himself back to sleep. He still decided checking up on the kid was best and carried on- infants were so delicate and anything could go wrong at any time. It wasn’t until he heard Lucifer giving instruction to someone else that Mammon realized what was going on. He remembered back to his conversation with the Avatar of Pride this morning. He was teaching one of their younger brothers how to care for a baby- a valuable skill for the future if one of them decided they wanted kids of their own.

He approached the door; the sight was almost enough to make him laugh. The twins were trying their best to follow Lucifer’s instructions. Belphie was attempting to change Cyrus’ diaper and trying to figure out which way the clean one went on while Beel was trying to figure out how exactly to work the bottle warmer.

“Lucifer, which way does this damn thing go on?”

“Flip it around, Belphegor, you almost put it on backwards.”

“How hot should a bottle be before he can have it?”

“Turn it to 37 degrees- a normal human body temperature. Any hotter may can burn his mouth. The warmer will let you know when it’s ready.”

“Hey, quit squirming, you little snot. I’m trying to get your diaper on.”

Mammon cleared his throat. “I can take him now. Y’all look like you’re havin’ trouble...”

“I’ll guide them through it, Mammon. They had an interest in learning. Go on and go back to your room.” The eldest replied. “We can handle it.”

“Are ya sure?”

“We’re sure,” the twins responded as they tried to focus on their tasks.

And there was the guilt again, brought about from seeing his brothers helping when they didn’t need to. He told Arella he would take care of their son tonight and now it felt like he was just shirking the responsibility onto them.

“Are... are ya sure?”

“Yes,” The three of them responded.

“It’ll be good practice for our kids if we decide to have any,” the Avatar of Gluttony said.

“Yeah, our mates can’t be the ones doing all the work and I would rather not look like a fool with my first kid in front of them.” The seventh-born nods. “So, go on. We got this.”

“Alright then,” The white-haired demon turned to leave before a panicked cry erupted from Cyrus and he turned back around immediately, his parental instincts going wild, “hey, hey, whatcha cryin for kiddo? I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Cyrus only continued to cry, attempting to reach his little hands up for his father. Mammon only grasped the infant’s hands in his.

“I know, I know, these ain’t the people who usually take care of ya.”

The little one only let out little whines, gradually calming down as Belphegor fastened the diaper around his waist.

“There, see, that wasn’t so bad, was it? You’re okay,” Mammon went to go pull away so he could sit him up, but Cyrus took it as a sign that his father was going to leave again and let out a shriek as he kicked his legs. Everyone covered their ears at the sound. “Cyrus, stop! I can’t hold ya when you’re screamin’ like that.” Since when had he gotten so clingy. Mammon forgot just how clingy newborns got to be.

“I think... maybe its best we leave.” Lucifer sighed as he mulled over why Cyrus might be acting this way. It wasn’t normal clinginess for an infant of his age and then it dawned on him. It was a fear response. Both he and Beel were there the night his biological mother and her sisters were dealt with and Cyrus heard all of that and was just now seeming to remember that night. “Beel, we need to leave right now. Belphegor can stay, but the two of us cannot be here right now.”

“Huh? Why?” The Avatar of Gluttony looked confused but a stern look from his oldest brother made him realize what exactly was happening and followed Lucifer out without any more questions.

As soon as the pair of demons were gone the screaming started to die down.

“Yeesh, what’s up with that, kid.” Mammon asked as he picked his son up, like he could answer his father. “Hey, Belphie the bottle should be ready. Hand it to me, will ya?”

“Yeah... I think Cyrus might be scared of Lucifer and Beel. He only screams like that when he sees Satan...”

Blue to gold gradient widened as he looked down at the infant whose eyes were glued to the doorway and his stomach dropped. “Oh...Oh no... He remembers...”

———————————————————————-

Next

Find more on my masterlist

[fanimesenseiwrites]

So I had piece commissioned of my MC, Hoshiko Higure, presenting as both female and male.

The artist is karoshin_arts on Instagram.

And to go along with the art is a little fic I wrote, mostly, about Hoshiko coming out to the boys.

This fic takes place after Belphie gets out of the attic and before the MC goes home for the first time.

Hoshiko's Coming Out

Hoshiko stood in front of their full length mirror in their bedroom, staring at their reflection.

They were dressed for school but instead of wearing the skirt, they had decided to wear uniform pants today. They were also wearing a binder underneath their dress shirt, effectively hiding their breasts. They tied the top half of their hair back before putting on their circle rim glasses.

They stared at themselves in the mirror once they were totally ready.

"Okay... you look good. You can do this. Everything is gonna be fine," they told themself, trying to psych themself up.

They nodded at themself in the mirror before walking out into the hallway.

Mammon was headed to Hoshiko's room as they were walking out.

"Hey Ho... shi..." Mammon stopped mid step and mid sentence and just stared at Hoshiko. He narrowed his eyes at them, seeming suspicious.

Hoshiko turned a bright red. "It's me! I swear! I'm just... wearing pants..."

"You're doing more than that..." Mammon told them as he finished walking over to them.

"Yeah, I just... sometimes I..." They couldn't look at Mammon. "I don't feel like a girl all the time... sometimes I feel like a boy..." They wrapped their arms around themselves.

"So what, you just wanna wear pants and not have boobs sometimes?"

They looked up at Mammon. "I mean, in not so many words, yeah."

Mammon pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Hoshiko sighed and looked down at the ground. "You don't wanna be my friend anymore, do you?"

"What? Quit your mopin'! I didn't say that!"

Hoshiko looked back up at him.

"I'm your first! You're s'posed to tell me everything, no secrets between us, remember?!" Mammon perched his hands on his hips.

Hoshiko teared up. "Oh, Mammon!" They threw their arms around him and cried into his chest.

"Hey! Don't do that..." he blushed and pushed them away gently. "You'll break your glasses." He offered them a handkerchief from his breast pocket.

Hoshiko nodded and took the handkerchief with a soft sniffle. They took off their glasses and wiped their eyes.

"C'mon, you gotta eat some breakfast before school."

They nodded and headed to the dining room with Mammon. "... Will you stay with me all day?"

Mammon looked at them. "Huh?"

"I... I'm actually afraid of being by myself, looking like this..."

"Oh... yeah, of course. You gotta know the Great Mammon will always protect ya!" He flashed them a brilliant smile.

Hoshiko smiled at him. "Thank you." They grabbed Mammon's hand.

Mammon blushed but squeezed their hand in return.

Everyone looked at them when they entered the dining hall.

"Hey! So today Hoshiko feels like a guy and we're gonna make her feel- well, him-"

Hoshiko nudged him.

He stopped talking and looked at Hoshiko.

"You can just use they/them," Hoshiko told him.

"Right!" He looked back at his brothers. "So we're gonna make them feel comfortable and if ya don't, I'll kill ya," he was actually the most serious Hoshiko had ever seen him.

Hoshiko squeezed his hand. "Calm down, it's not that serious."

He looked back at Hoshiko. "Yes it is. Your feelings are important."

Hoshiko smiled at him. "I appreciate you saying that."

"Mammon is right," Lucifer spoke before dabbing his mouth with a napkin.

Hoshiko and Mammon looked at him.

"Your feelings are important, Hoshiko. If there's anything you need or if anyone gives you any flak, you let me know," only Lucifer could say something so sweet, yet so venom filled.

Hoshiko nodded. "I will, thank you."

Lucifer nodded. "Of course."

"Have you always felt this way?" Satan asked Hoshiko.

Hoshiko looked at him. "Uh... it's hard to say. It's only been in the last like... 3 years that I had the terminology to describe how I feel."

"And what is the correct terminology?" Satan asked as he pulled out his DDD and opened up a note taking app.

"I'm genderfluid. Which means I don't fit into the typical binary model of gender. Even though I am biologically female, I don't always want to present myself as traditionally female."

"Conforming to gender norms when it comes to clothing is so boring," Asmo commented. "You should just do what makes you happy."

Hoshiko smiled at him. "I like that. Thank you."

Asmo smiled brightly at them. "Of course, love!"

"So wait..." Belphie started.

Everyone looked at him.

"This is new to everyone, not just me?"

Beel nodded. "This is the first I've heard of it."

"So, you've felt like this for at least 3 years?" Belphie asked Hoshiko.

Hoshiko blushed and nodded, understanding what Belphie was getting at.

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Levi asked.

"I didn't feel comfortable showing y'all until now. Even getting ready this morning I was nervous as hell."

Levi only nodded.

"Okay, I think that's enough questions for now," Lucifer interjected. "It's time to get to school."

Hoshiko was actually grateful that Lucifer had stopped them from asking them questions, they could feel themself getting overwhelmed.

Hoshiko smiled slightly at Lucifer before getting up and clearing their plate from the table.

The brothers followed suit, then everyone left for RAD together.

True to his word, Mammon stayed next to Hoshiko all day, though they didn't really need any protecting as they had originally thought.

After school, at the student council meeting, Diavolo asked Hoshiko how their first day presenting as a male was.

"It went well! Most folks were more curious anything. Azazel asked if I actually did have magical abilities because of how I changed my appearance. I thought that was funny. And Solomon offered to teach me how to make potions to deepen my voice for when I want to present as a guy. And Mephistopheles said I was stunning no matter how I presented..."

Most of the brothers rolled their eyes, but Mammon let out a little growl.

Hoshiko smacked his arm. "He was just bein' nice."

"Uh huh..." he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

Diavolo chuckled at their interaction. "Well I'm glad today went so well for you, Hoshiko."

Hoshiko grinned. "I was really surprised, I thought that maybe at least a couple folks would give me hard time, but no one did."

"Demons are not usually so concerned with presentations of gender like that," Barbatos informed them.

"Oh... well I wish I had known that sooner, I wouldn't have been freaking out as much about today."

"That's not true," Barbatos corrected them.

Hoshiko pouted. "I don't like it when you call me out like that."

Barbatos chuckled softly.

Diavolo grinned. "Well I'm glad that our residents didn't take advantage of Hoshiko being a human when they changed their appearance. This is good for the exchange program!"

"I concur," Lucifer interjected.

"Well that concludes today's meeting," Diavolo announced before standing up.

Everyone else stood up with him.

Diavolo left the table before anyone else moved.

Asmo ran over to Hoshiko. "Hoshiko! Do you want to go shopping? We can pick you out some more masculine looking clothes if you want."

Hoshiko grinned. "I'd like that."

"I'm goin' too," Mammon declared.

Asmo pouted. "Why do you have to go?"

"Hoshiko asked me to stay by their side all day, so that's what I'm gonna do!"

Hoshiko chuckled. "That was when I thought I was gonna get made fun of or even beat up. I know I'll be okay now, so you don't have to stay with me."

"Nope. You asked so I'm gonna stay with you all day. The Great Mammon doesn't break a promise."

"What?! Since when?!" Levi interjected. "You still haven't paid me back!"

"Yeah, you obviously just want to be next to Hoshiko," Asmo pointed out.

"What?! That ain't so!" Mammon protested as a blush appeared on his cheeks.

Hoshiko chuckled at them. "Come on, we can all go shopping. It's not that big of a deal."

Asmo sighed. "Alright, as long as you're happy." He smiled slightly.

"We'll all be happy, I'll treat you two to dinner afterwards," Hoshiko promised.

Asmo beamed. "Okay!"

The trio went out to go shopping and went out to dinner before returning home to the House of Lamentation.

Hoshiko walked in sporting a new lavender suit and purple dress shirt.

Asmo insisted on showing them off to everyone in the house.

Hoshiko got a little embarrassed when Asmo dragged them to Lucifer's study. "Asmo, he doesn't care..."

"That's not true! Lucifer!" Asmo called as they walked into the study.

Lucifer looked up at them from where he sat at his desk.

"Look at our handsome little exchange student!" He exclaimed as he spun them around, giving Lucifer the full view.

Hoshiko was blushing.

Lucifer chuckled. "You look nice, Hoshiko. Though it is apparent that Asmo picked out that suit."

"That doesn't sound like a compliment," Asmo said with a pout.

"I just think Hoshiko would look better in something darker."

"There's more colors besides black and red, Lucifer," Asmo informed him.

Hoshiko chuckled at their interaction.

Lucifer glanced at Hoshiko briefly. "Asmo, would you leave us? I'd like to speak to Hoshiko alone for a moment."

"Ooh, okay!" Asmo sang just before leaving the room.

Hoshiko felt their ears get hot. "Uh, am I in trouble?"

"No, not at all. Please, take a seat." He motioned to a chair right in front of his desk.

Hoshiko nodded and sat down, crossing their legs as they did so.

"I just wanted to ask how your day went."

"It went well, you were there in the meeting when I told Lord Diavolo how it went."

"I just wanted to verify that nothing has changed since then. Make sure my brothers haven't harassed you about it."

Hoshiko laughed. "No, it's been fine. I appreciate your concern though."

Lucifer smirked. "How has your stay in Devildom been, thus far?"

"Aside from nearly dying like four times, it's been great!" Hoshiko teased.

Lucifer pursed his lips. "Right..."

"I'm only kidding with you. I've actually had a good time and I've learned a lot... it's kinda sad to think about how I'll be leaving in just a couple months."

Lucifer smiled slightly. "I'm glad you think of it that way."

"It certainly helped that all my housemates were hot too," Hoshiko told him with a wink.

Lucifer couldn't help the blush that rose to his cheeks. "Hoshiko," he chided.

Hoshiko snickered. "I'm just teasing you. That's a good thing. It means I'm comfortable with you now."

Lucifer hummed. "Should you be?"

"Is there a reason I shouldn't be?" Hoshiko asked with a sly smile.

Lucifer stared them down, frustrated at his inability to give them an answer. "... Regardless, we've been happy to host you. I'm glad you were chosen for the program."

Hoshiko rolled their eyes. "Are you going to continue to be this formal until I leave?"

"Perhaps," Lucifer replied simply.

"Uh huh." Hoshiko stood up and straightened their suit jacket. "Well I will be upfront with my feelings and tell you that I like you and all your brothers and I'm really enjoying my time here... I hope we can all still be good friends after I leave."

Lucifer watched them and smiled slightly. "I think my brothers will be lost without you here."

"I think I'll be lost without all their crazy antics keeping me busy," Hoshiko laughed.

Lucifer chuckled.

"Hoshiko!" Asmo squealed as they ran into the room and went to hide behind Hoshiko.

"Speaking of crazy antics," Hoshiko said to Lucifer before looking at Asmo. "What is-?"

Hoshiko jumped at being suddenly sprayed in the back of the head with water. They whipped around to see Mammon standing in the doorway with a water gun.

"Oh you're gonna get it now!" Hoshiko told him with a grin.

"Good luck catching me!" Mammon told them before running away.

Hoshiko quickly ran after him.

Asmo ran after the two, not wanting to miss out on the fun.

Lucifer shook his head with a soft smile on his face. He knew the "crazy antics" would never stop, but he was grateful for a particular human that had caused them to become less deadly.

[beautifulweird0]

Forgiving Your Parents

I know too many people who’ve experienced some form of trauma from their parents. This isn’t a blog about bashing your folks- this is hopefully a post that will help salvage some strained parent and child relationships. Cause I been there, done that-and understanding your parent is only feasible if your parent is interested in understanding you.

My disclaimer is this: The child isn’t responsible for mending the relationship...solely. I’mma tell you like this, if your parent doesn’t want anything to do with you...skip em’.

   Because that’s backwards as hell and that takes away from loving yourself. Anyway you chop it, if you find yourself forcing yourself on a “parent”, the relationship isn’t going to go anywhere-AND THAT’S NOT YOUR FAULT OR CONCERN. YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL! YOU ARE EXTREMELY WORTHY. I’m so sorry your people ain’t solid; it’s a reflection of them-not you.

It’s my belief that something is wrong with a person if they want no parts of having a relationship with their child. Literally so messed up from their own unhealed traumas that they can’t find it within themselves to love someone they created…

Ain’t no fixing on that unless you take they ass to a therapist.

Moving on.

I’ve always had such a strong feeling in my gut when I come across new people. It’s like they look at me and think I got it all. Truly looking at me and seeing a woman who doesn’t have insecurities or childhood traumas spotted along her path cause I’m kind and always make it a point to smile like Granny told me.

    I’m usually a private person. But its always been that ‘pull’ on me-telling me… “It’s another little girl that is going through the same stuff you went through. Say that shit anyway. And with your chest.” .

Think about it...

Can’t a soul embarrass you about some stuff you open about. That takes all the fun out of their miserable lives if folks know wassup already.

    So as a 22 year old woman that been through some mess with her people, let me share pieces of me. Cause the last thing you want on your conscience is one of your parents passing and ya’ll not being on the best of terms.

I was listening to Mad Bitches the other day and Mikhala Jene said something along the lines of, “Nobody living is perfect”.

That hit me a little different. Like damn...nobody walks this earth perfect so...why do we expect perfection (again, subconsciously).

THIS.

   This is why I say if your parent is trying, then work with them. If they sit down with you and tell you how life was for them coming up. The good parts, the ugly parts, and everything in-between. Trying their best to be authentic and build a bond, then meet em’ halfway (if they haven’t been on some stuff that’s just unforgivable).

And shit, our people ain’t have everything at their fingertips as we do. The apps that spread information quicker than you could sneeze, weren't available. They couldn’t go on a ‘self-care’ page to calm themselves down if triggered or go on YouTube and watch motivational videos. Not making excuses, just using a little perspective that helps me! Yet and still, let your parent(s) know if they did something to wrong you; you gotta’ have respect for yourself as a human. Period.

   I didn’t find out who my biological father was until I was about 16 years old. Up until that point I believed another man was my father (which he is still and will always be!).

Sooo...I already had abandonment issues from my parents and my dad lived in a way at that time, that all parties involved thought it was best my grandparents took us in. That’s all I know is Granny’s (& Grandpa’s) house since I was a baby.

    It helped that when my mom told me who my biological dad was, she was in a much better state of mind and stable-but man...I didn’t know what to feel. My sister was more upset than me (cause we have the same dad hypothetically).

     So many questions ran through my head that I couldn’t even cry or be mad. I was shocked. Everyone played their role so well…

There was a long road ahead of me. Not only did I have to forgive my mom and dad for lying to me for so long, but there was a father in the same city I had yet to know.

My first point is patience. If you aren’t going to be patient with an end goal for you and your parent, you’re wasting your time. Being prepared for them to fumble sometimes is mandatory if y’all going to get to a better place. You mess up on certain projects or what have you’s a few times before you get it right...right?

Give your parent the same energy if you were in their shoes. Cause baby...ain’t nothing worse than admitting your wrongs and still getting beat down. I couldn’t bring myself to be mad at my mom in that moment where she was vulnerable and upset cause she knew she played a part in hurting me. What was it gone do but make me feel bad and her feel worse?

     Blowing up wasn’t going to change what happened now 22 years ago.

Yeah, there’s hella’ books on parenting but I’mma tell y’all like my Granny told me, “There’s no such thing as a book on how to be a parent.”.

Having a child of my own- I’ve been witness to this. Folks can be shown and folks can be told on how to do certain things but with each child being different in this world, you have to be intune with them specifically- no book on that.

I was through hell and back with my mother and now we’re in an extremely better place because we both made the effort (more-so on her part 🌚).

But it was my responsibility to go into it with pure intentions and my guard down a bit after she made the effort; disappointment is what I expected sometimes cause I went into it knowing it was going to be a process.

Don’t get it confused,  my mom always knew how I was-that wasn’t the issue. The new end goal was getting to know each other again so I could understand her better so I could forgive her. That’s no sucka’ shit. Its real. Everybody in this life is going to disappoint you, one way or another. Better to know what you’re dealing with so you can assess the situation in order to better assess the person. Free game.

Another step to keep in mind is, boundaries. I just feel like it will make the whole exchange smoother-not easier- but smoother. The point of forgiving your parents and (if you chose) trying to build a relationship, is to have them know you for who you are NOW. Not when you were 5, not when you was 12...have them meet you at your level. They dropped the ball, not you. Sure...nobody asked to be here but that becomes invalid when you start having babies of your own. It’s a different ball game when you bring a life into this world. Your joys become the joy of your children but way too often we forget that our pain becomes theirs as well.

My father always tried too-the dad that I always knew as my dad. On weekends me and my sister would go to his house before he moved to Michigan. Man I was a daddies girl-still am. My grandparents had the house on lock, couldn't watch programs with cussing in it or too much violence. Life of having Southern Baptist grandparents I guess.

 The weekends at pops house was always interesting. I could watch all the music videos I wanted and watch the movies that didn't have too much goin on in them.

My dad would do different stuff with us like go to the library; he always knew I loved reading. Sometimes my dad would take us to the park or a friends house who had kids (how I met my husband), water parks, or even cooking dinner with me and my sister; plenty of quality time where I could talk to him about anything.

However, at the time, pops lived a certain lifestyle and no matter how hard he tried to shield it from us younger kids, I still seen things and experienced things a child shouldn't have. Again, comes with the lifestyle I guess.

My dad drunk...ALOT. And it was interesting to see the 'upsides' of alchoholism and the very big downsides. I'd never forget, I was maybe 8? Another weekend at my dads, just me and my sister (I have multiple brothers on that side too plus another sister), and I woke up one morning on the couch. My dad was goin through some things- all he had was a couch that he let me and my little sister sleep on. My 1st thought when I woke up was where was my dad sleeping? My sister was sleep, and it was still fairly early in the morning. I go back to the empty bedroom to find him sleep on the floor. No pillow. No cover. Just a beer in hand, laid out. That broke my heart.

Just remember feeling sad all over. I took the beer, threw it away then grabbed the pillow I had and laid it under his head. While doing so, my dad woke up, halfway and kissed my hand.

He told me straight up he loves me and he apologized. Didn't go into detail but he didn't have to. My dad never had his pops in his life, nor his mama until he was grown and was taking care of her though her illness.

I knew even at 8 years old that, that gotta hurt. I'm not gone sit here and act like I always understood the motives of my father but I tried because he always tried to understand me and til' this day, he is one of the top 3 people that KNOWS me like the back of his hand.

I had to forgive my parents because they’ve come a long way. Holding all that anger and resentment wasn’t gone help me in the long run. And in a way I can say I've helped to heal them by loving them through their screw ups. We always talk about a parents love but what about a child's love?

I don’t want to pass down my pain to my son, he don’t need that- the world will give its fair share. But everyday I pray that the world won’t hurt him bad. I want my son to be nothing less than strong mentally, emotionally, but most of all spiritually. He won’t have that unless I’m solid. So I ask myself… ‘hm, what’s still hurting me?’.

We all got a story to tell.

Love. Peace. Manifest.

[onelostgirl]

14. Just Me

Miya Atsumu x (f) smau

Y/N’s eyes shot back and forth like a pinball as she watched Cat talk to Osamu like they had been friends forever. She knew that Cat had introduced herself to him a few weeks back right around the time they had eaten at his restaurant with Tooru but she hadn’t expected them to be this chummy.

“It’s a bit weird ain’t it?” She heard a voice say as she looked over to the blonde man beside her.

They had just finished prepping the photo booth and way ahead of schedule thanks to the surprising entrance of the Miya twins, more than 5 hours earlier than their shift to be exact.

“Well I guess not considering how friendly Cat is, she seemed to get along with you too earlier.” Y/N replied as Atsumu glanced over to her shooting his signature smirk that Y/N had to mentally fight reacting to.

“Guess the ladies have a hard time fightin’ their inner desires when it comes ta me.”

Y/N scoffed then looked at the blonde setter, “Oh you were serious.”

“Yeh yeh play as hard as ya want ya know I’m right.” He said waving his hand in a casual gesture as Y/N laughed at him earning her a joking glare from the setter.

“So how’s my choco goin’?” He asked as Y/N head shot up, she had actually planned to get them when she went back home to change before the event.

“Don’t worry I bought you the cheapest but tastiest one.”

“Ay, that ain’t the deal.”

“Why would it matter anyway, you’re probably not even going to recognize mine anyway.” Y/N stated trying to brush off the feeling of annoyance at his desire for sweets when he would be knee deep in the by the end of the night.

“I’d know if it was from ya.”

Y/N glances slowly up to Atsumu who had an unexpectedly serious expression. They stated at eachother for what felt like forever though they didn’t really know what was happening between those unspoken moments but something was definitely happening.

“Hey Atsumu is it true that Osamu kicked your butt at field day every year in high school?”

Cat’s voice broke through whatever was happening as Y/N looked away quickly.

“Samu why ya lyin’ ya know I owned ya!” Atsumu shouted back making his way to the pair cleaning up a ways from them.

That just left Y/N to think about what had just happened and that those chocolate eyes she stared into was something deeper than she was ready to take on.

-

“So is your brother single?” Cat threw out as Osamu was getting ready for his photo shoot shift.

He didn’t know that agreeing to this stupid thing for Tsumu would have brought him to the exact person he was thinking of. He was extremely surprised that the same girl he met knew his brother’s team manager.

He had yet to get her number as Atsumu was teasing him about since they got there and he recognized her. Introducing them went smoothly with a narrow escape of awkwardness thanks to his jamming an elbow into Atsumu’s ribs before he could say the milf comment he was biting back.

But what was with this sudden interest with his brother - she couldn’t be into him right?

“Don’t you think they make a cute couple?” Cat stared as Osamu’s thoughts were interrupted as he looked in the direction that she was talking about.

His eyes caught the scene that she was referring to as Atsumu said something that earned him a scolding smack over the head by Y/N. She looked like she was doing her best to be serious but at one word she laughed along with the blonde beside her.

He had to admit he hadn’t seen his brother genuinely enjoying himself off the court anyway. Not since everything that happened with Hayami.

He assumed the same could be said about Y/N because Cat seemed extremely interested in how they were interacting.

“Guessin’ she ain’t always like that.” He stated as Cat looked over to him, almost forgetting how attractive the man beside her was. But how she hadn’t felt that attraction to the twin beside her best friend.

“Y/N’s a lot of things and definitely someone who could benefit from taking it easy every now and then.” She responded as the dark haired twin smirked at her.

“That prob’ly makes two of ya.”

She looked at Osamu with a curious expression, “What do you mean?”

“Well ya know cuz’ yer a mom yerself?” He replied in a whisper that Cat could barely hear him.

“I’m a what?”

“...a mom.” He said again not sure if that was the best way to bring it up.

He really didn’t know how to address it but he felt that she should know he was interested in getting to know her regardless of the situation.

Osamu didn’t look at her just yet not sure what face she would make, maybe she would be offended or insulted he brought it up without her initiating that serious of a conversation.

“I’m a mom? Why in the world would you...” she replied as it dawned on her then that he had first saw her with Yuto. A young kid who she loved very dearly but was also not hers.

“But the kid..” Osamu began but was stopped by Cat’s hand moving up gesturing him to stop.

“He’s a relative of a very close friend of mine.” She explained but stopped there knowing it wasn’t her place to say who exactly he was especially when it was obvious that Y/N hadn’t mentioned anything to Atsumu.

“So yer not a mom then.”

“Not biologically, I have tons of kids though, I work at a daycare.”

“Yer a teacha?”

“Ding ding, looks like you’re not completely brainless then.”

Osamu shook his head how could he assume something like that and actually come out looking like he had the same intelligence as his brother.

“Well then how would ya feel ‘bout catchin’ a bite ta eat after all this?” He threw out not wanting to hold back any longer.

Cat looked up at him with a coy smile, “It’s about damn time you asked.”

-

-

By the time Y/N saw him he was surrounded by a hoard of girls. Despite this seeming like Atsumu’s natural habitat, anyone could tell he was politely trying to tell them to fck off.

She assumed this was from the constant bad reputation and hate he gained whenever he was -well his true self out in public. Many people enjoyed his athleticism and definitely his looks, his nasty personality though, wasn’t a real crowd pleaser.

“Listen ladies, thanks fer the goodies but I gotta go, gettin’ back ta the booth.” Y/N heard him say as he quickly ducked out of the crowd and made a quick exit choosing a banner displaying an elderly couple celebrating 50 years of marriage.

From where she was standing, he looked really ridiculous and strangely cute attempting to hide until she arrived.

As confident as he was on the court it was refreshing to know he had moments like this too.

“You going to hide here all night or?” Y/N stated as she watched Atsumu’s shoulders jump up high and he quickly turned back to her.

“Don’t do that-ya scared the sht outta me.”

Y/N bit back a laugh seeing Atsumu’s look of displeasure complete with arms folded together in a pouting motion.

“Let’s just get something to eat before you start getting more grumpy.”

“If ya knew I’d be grumpy why’d ya make me wait so long.”

“Let’s go princess.” Y/N teased as Atsumu followed her his dragging feet showing his displeasure with her comment.

-

“It can’t have been that bad!”

After getting something to eat, they had somehow spent sometime talking and were now discussing horrible Valentine stories. Atsumu had just finished telling her of when a girl who was crazy for Osamu had slapped him silly when she mistook him for his twin and wasn’t happy about him being on a date with another girl.

“Ya weren’t there Y/N, it was a nigh’mare, she was yellin’ at me even pulled the other chick’s hair. I would’ve laughed my ass off it wasn’t happenin’ ta me.” Atsumu added as Y/N began to laugh at the story and his over exaggerated gestures and expressions.

He really was a good story teller.

“I actually feel sorry for you-here you were trying to score one and something like that happened. Not sure if it’s rotten luck or bad karma.”

“Whaaa, I hav great karma!”

“Sure you do, especially for all those times you were beyond nasty about your serves.”

“That was high school.”

“You still do that!” Y/N teased as Atsumu turned to deny it but came up empty because she had a point.

“I ain’t that bad no more.”

“Haha, that sounds like something a kid would say.”

Atsumu turned to look at her, “Since ya think I’m actin’ like a kid, where’s mine?”

“You already have so many-why do you need this one too?”

“Because ya made it fer me.”

Y/N tried not to think of how his voice sounded when he said that but it was kind of difficult not to. She wanted to blame it on the fact that she hadn’t been on a date in years but maybe it was also because she was enjoying the attention Atsumu was giving to her.

Before spending time getting to know him, she just assumed he was a jerk but now she knew he was a jerk and so much more.

He made her laugh, like really laugh. Then there were times when his smile or even his stupid smirk or grin would tug lightly on her heartstrings. Or even the conversations that could be so random and average then suddenly deep and thoughtful.

So, she had made him chocolates, despite her better judgement, even when she was horrible at it and Yuto laughed at her attempts or spit out the really awful ones.

She pushed herself to make these chocolates because maybe she wanted to see wherever the heck this could go.

“I’ll wait all night if I gotta.” His statement rung through to her as Y/N looked up at him slightly glaring at him.

“If they don’t taste that good just- lie to me okay and say they were great.”

Y/N reached into her bag slowly pulling it out.

“I mean it, it’s probably really bad, and if it is don’t even eat them all, just throw it out.”

“Would ya just give ‘em here. Ya actin’ like I’m some nasty chef who’d spit it up on ya.”

Y/N reluctantly passed it to the blonde looking away trying to mask her embarrassment. Atsumu found this beyond amusing since she was acting like a real person and not just his manager or someone who’s job it was to care about him.

“Thank-” Atsumu began but a ringtone stopped him as he watched Y/N pull her phone out. He as about to say something when he saw her politely put up her hand gesturing for him to wait.

“Yes this is she...”

“...is everything okay?”

“...oh...no that’s fine, I’ll be right over.”

As quickly as the call came it ended as Y/N put her phone back into her bag. Atsumu was waiting for her to say something but from her distant eyes and silence he assumed it was personal.

“Er everythin’ alrifht Y/N?”

His question stayed in the air between them for longer than he expected it was like she hadn’t even heard him.

“Yo, Y/N ya good?” He asked again this time waving his hand in front of her face snapping her back to reality.

“Oh yeah, I just got to take care of something.”

Atsumu watched as she began walking rather quickly in the direction of their booth.

“Did somethin’ happen? Ya got to go somewhere?” He continued to ask as Y/N distracted responses began to unsettle his stomach for some reason.

“Yeah nothing so serious-just got to let everyone know I need to leave.”

“Oh well, did ya need a ride? I don’t mind takin’ ya.” Atsumu offered as Y/N stopped and looked up to him, her eyes somewhat guarded.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“...well maybe I wanna make sure yer good.” He replied as Y/N’s lips tightened as though she was thinking of what to say.

“I guess that would be nice.”

“Ya sure got a way with words.”

Y/N tried not to smile at his teasing tone but Atsumu caught it ever so slightly. She didn’t realize he too, had a small smile on his face.

-

-

Bonus: Cat and Y/N’s outfits for the day (taken at the MSBY Valentines Booth)

-

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Author’s note: Hi everyone! Sorry for the late upload had some trouble conveying this chapter but hope you enjoy it. Please stay tuned for the next update and continue to shower Love Loop with your beautiful support and love. Taglist is still open (:

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[dommebadwolff23]

Ok my family and friends its has been a year and I am ready to talk about it. So on this day last year I made the hardest decisions I have ever made. I split up with Gigi. In doing so I left everything that I had built and known for 10 1/2 years. A family, a dog and most importantly my kid(though I will never truly be away from him).

The reason for my leaving is that our relationship was truly toxic to the point that my son told me to leave her. I know there were things that I contributed to the toxicity at different times but they barely compared to what I kept hidden. I lied time and time again to everyone including myself that everything was fine. That I was happy being used as the monster because I was too young and insecure to stop it. That if I could just go along with everything, I could some how make her happy. I lost who I was potentially on my way to be.

Yes there were the good times and for atleast 50% of the time I wouldn't have changed anything that we did together as a family. I am proud of being a parent, a contributing factor to a sometimes healthy family and a homemaker. My son is still my world. I think of him constantly and miss him so much it hurts.

Unfortunately within the first 2 months of leaving and trying to still communicate with atleast my son I fucked up. I got so wrapped up in the nonsense between his mother and I that my head went straight up my ass. I broke off communication with him without even discussing it with him even though I had always discussed everything with him up until that point. It took the summer with lots of good discussions with close family and friends for me to detach my head from ass. But it was too late and the damage was done.

I have not seen nor heard my son's voice for almost 11 months. I have also not had communication of any type with him since September. I did make the mistake of not heading his wish a month after he said he needed time by asking him about what his Halloween costume would be. This is something that had come as second nature to me because it happened to be the holiday we talk the most about. In doin so I upset him even more and his mother instructed me to leave him be which is her right to do so as his biological mother.

Fortunately I have still been able to be in contact with some that are still in his picture. Unfortunately at this time that is getting harder to be ok with. He is still in the city with his momma and with each passing day from this pandemic, my worries increase. He is my greatest love and this is hell.

Finally this year has been my biggest in personal growth and I am back to who I was supposed to be. I have lost friends and a piece of soul that was starting to fill in but didn't know was supposed to be there. I have also made a great many new friends, accrued more pack and made new loving family. I am also learning to love myself more with each passing day. Being able to identify better the faults that I have in myself and working all the more diligently on them.

I will admit I probably should have left in July of 2018 when the toxicity of being around my wife drove me to attempt suicide twice and admit myself to emergency mental health treatment. Once at home and once while in the services of the inpatient mental health. While there my medications were mishandled. I was subjected to even more triggering event to my already over anxious and depressed mind. And I was so out of it that I didn't get more than a few hours of sleep for atleast 72 hours. When finally able to get some balance in the institution I was able to be convinced by myself and everyone else that I was gonna be ok goin back home. Dispute its contributions to getting me back to me to have the courage to finally live for me, I will never admit myself to another situation as that.

Unfortunately in going back things only got worse and my mental health was taking a downward shift. So I had 3 choices. Admit myself again. Staying and something bad happening between Gigi and I. Or I could leave, getting away from the disfunction of a relationship that was my marriage to Gigi. With the help of my son and others, I chose the most logical.

I have proven to myself that I can not be broken. Maybe stretched alot but I always have those that love me and myself to snap me back to me. I kept a hold to family that I love very much and who love and care about me so much that I haven't been on my own with this process. Allowed me to live still close enough to my son that if and when he starts talking to me again, I am close enough to him that he can easily come see him.

For once I feel free to live the way I should and again I am truly happy to be me. Thank you to those who have known and supported me through not just this past year but also the past years. And big big thank you to those of you who have been especially loving to me. I love you Haughtons!!! 🦎❤🦃&🐻

[fly-flower-fanfics]

Hope

Steve Rogers x Male Reader

Warnings: Dysphoria, transphobic shit

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I grit my teeth as I stormed through the Stark Towers. Anyone who tried to talk to me clearly saw that I wasn't in the mood to be engaging in any sort of conversation. I swore to god that steam was literally rolling off my body. That's what it felt like at least.

I stomped my way into workout room and began wrapping my hands in tape. My bag was up in the back of the room. My 'power' was the I could control fire and sometimes when I wasn't paying attention or practicing, my body itself got heated and would almost burn whoever touch it. 

"Fucking biological my ass," I grumbled, stalking the bag. I swung a punch at it before striking it again. Again and again and again. My fists pounded into the fireproof material. "Piece of shit, she is."

My body build was close to Steve's, but I was just a bit smaller and shorter than he was. Because of this, it caused the bag to swing, which made me feel a little better. I felt more powerful that way.

I stripped off my shirt and threw it off to the ground. I went back to punching the bag, muttering to myself about the things my mother had said to me and how much I hated her. I was sick and tired of her bullshit. Thank fucking god I'd found a family in the rest of the Avengers.

I heard footsteps behind me and without thinking, I turned and threw a punch.

"Woah, hey."

I dropped my hands as I realized who was speaking. Steve. I shook my hands out, biting my lip for a moment.

"Sorry, man. What's up?"

"Everyone said you were pissed, said you came right here."

I shrugged and turned my back on him, going back to punching the bag. Steve went around and held the bag, steadying it for my punches.

"What's goin' on?"

I sighed, dropping my hands back down to my sides. I began to undo the tape from my hands and went to sit on the bench in the corner of the room.

"My mother," I muttered, spitting out the words like poison.

"What'd she do?"

I hesitated. The team knew I was transgender because of all the things I had to work through with it. They were all really supportive of me. Bruce even helped when I got my surgeries and was struggling to do things. The only thing they didn't know what my mother and what a bigot she was.

I loved Steve, and I was afraid what he would say to me if he heard me speak of my mother. Steve had always been there for me, just like Bruce had been. My feelings towards the men developed differently: Bruce became my brother, and Steve became my crush. I didn't ever make a move because I knew how he felt about Peggy and that must've been terrible, so I never pushed.

"She..." I shut my eyes tightly and tossed the tape onto the ground. My anger bubbled up inside of me again.

"Take your time," Steve reassured me.

"She's a fucking bitch!" Steve jumped a little, but he didn't say anything. "She always has something to say to me. Whenever I see her, she brings up me being trans and bisexual. She thinks I'm doing this because it's something she doesn't like. She keeps telling me that I can choose to be like. Like fucking hell I chose this!"

Tears clouded my eyes, but I didn't stop. "She acts like I can just choose to like men and women, but I didn't. She acts like I chose to be trans. I fucking would give everything and then some to be cis! She's always calling me by my deadname and insisting shitty things onto me. Like fuck that! She can suck my motherfucking dick! I'm not going to change just because she doesn't like it!"

Steve rested his hand on my shoulder, but pulled it away almost instantly. That showed me that I was burning up, my powers getting the better of me.

"Need to spar?"

I looked up at Steve, smiled a little, and then shook my head. "I punched my anger mostly out on the bag over there." I wiped my tears away and sighed.

"You do know she's wrong, don't you?"

"Well, of course I do," I answered. "That doesn't make it hurt less..."

"Come back to my room," Steve said, standing up. "It'll do you good to be with someone."

I didn't hesitate to get up and follow him. My room would probably make me more angry just because I would be alone. I wanted to be by myself, but I also knew that that would make my anger boil more, and I didn't want to cause Tony to buy me more sheets even if he always insisted it wasn't a problem.

I plopped down on Steve's floor, afraid I might cause the sheets to ignite. I was calmer though, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Steve sat on his bed and patted the material next to him.

"Up here."

"Steve..."

"Up here. Now."

I got up and sat next to him, soon flipping onto my back. Steve tenderly sat a hand on my arm, testing to see if he would get burned. He didn't, so I guess I had gotten my power more under control.

"Is that what you deal with every time you go to her house?" Steve asked, and I nodded.

"She always has something to say. I didn't choose to be what I am. She doesn't understand how much it hurts me when she says those things. Hell, how can she still call me my deadname? Look at me! I look like Captain America's Walmart-bran twin, and she's still trying to refer to me as feminine things? God, suck my ass."

Steve patted my arm, and I knew it was because I kept cursing. I just couldn't help it. She drove me up a wall. I couldn't stand her anymore.

"That's the last time I'm ever seeing her. I gave her years to try and accept me. I didn't ask for her support, just her acceptance, and I never got it. She drove me out of her life, and I'm done. That was the last straw."

"Maybe don't go that far," Steve tried to reason with me, but I only shook my head. I wasn't changing my mind.

"But you're right," he continued. "You didn't chose. I didn't chose to be bisexual, just like you didn't chose to be bisexual and how Natasha didn't chose to be lesbian."

I opened an eye and looked up at him. "You're bi?"

Steve chuckled softly. "Didn't you know?"

"No. Guess it just never came up."

"Guess not," he answered before continuing. "You're going to be you no matter what happens. No matter who says what, you're still going to be you. And I'm sorry some people just don't see that."

I sat up and gave him a hug. "Thank you, Steve. I know that it wasn't probably great for you to talk about, but just letting me vent was enough."

"Anytime," he replied.

"Do you mind if I stay the night?" I asked quietly. It was getting late anyway. Almost a little too early to go to bed, but I really didn't want to go out and interact with anyone else.

"Of course. You ready to turn in?"

"Yeah. I-I mean we don't have to sleep right away; I just don't want to see anyone else today. May I take a shower?"

"By all means. I'll let you borrow some of my clothing so you don't have to head back to your room."

Once I showered, cleaned myself up, and setting down at the foot of Steve's bed, I pulled out a book from his shelf.

"And what are you doing down there?" Steve asked.

"I'm going to read here and then fall asleep," I replied.

"On the floor? C'mon. I'm not that bad in bed."

"Oh, god, Steve. Never say that again," I laughed, getting myself up and sitting next to him on the large bed.

I began to read again, but soon noticed that Steve was reading over my shoulder. I shifted myself, leaning my head on his shoulder and moving the book between us so he could read it better. He reached out to hold the one side of the book, and we worked as a team to read the book.

"Steve?" I asked once we reached the end of a chapter.

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

"Of course."

"No, no, Steve." I closed the book and looked up at him. "Thank you. I mean it. Thank you for everything. For being there for me. And for listening to me vent when I need you. You're always there, and I know that I can always count on you. You-"

"Oh, shut up," Steve mumbled, pressing his lips against mine.

I was shocked by his bold move, but I kissed back.

"What was that for?" I asked.

"You talk too much sometimes. Also because I wanted to do that for a long time. I... I want to protect you. I want to always be there when you need it, and I love you. I want you to be mine."

I smiled softly and laid my head back down against his shoulder. "I love you, too, Steve. I'm... I'm really touched. I would happily be yours."

Steve pressed a kiss to the crown of my head. "Let's read another chapter?" he asked.

"Of course. Then can we cuddle and sleep?"

"Absolutely, doll."

He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer to him. Steve held his side of the book as we continued reading.

After such a shitty day, everything finally seemed like it was going right.

[fatalelity]

@healerhearted [x]

     “ no, i get that. ”  he shakes his head, gaze still fixed on the floor.  “ it’s not  .  .  .  it’s not about how long you wanted something. it’s about how much you wanted it. at least, that’s what i think. i dunno. ”  he lifts his shoulders in a small shrug.

     he’s been thinking about this kind of stuff A LOT lately. he hadn’t realized it until recently, but he wants MORE than what he’s let himself have. he’s spent so long trying not to be alone, trying not to get attached. he has issues, & he’s known it for a long time, but he never let himself do anything about them. he preferred his methods of self-medication so much that he couldn’t see just how unhappy he would be in the end. & now, he’s faced with that &he doesn’t know what to do.

     but he wonders what’s on addison’s mind. what could be causing her little crisis? lifting his gaze to her, he exhales softly & asks,  “ what’s goin’ on, addie? ”

    her gaze fixates on the newborn sofia robbins sloan-torres who lays in the NICU, fighting for her life after the series of tumultuous surgeries. callie is a mother. strange how some things have changed since she left. perhaps there is a lingering feeling of melancholy that draws upon her visage -- her expression waxes & wanes between the boundaries of melancholia & tenderness. how ironic it is for baby doctor to be barren as she watches the child of one of her best friends lie there, intubated & uncertain if she will ever lead a life beyond this. 

    perhaps, this is exactly what it needs for her to contemplate, to remember the child she COULD’VE had with him. addison remembers it as if it happened yesterday. the way how he smiled so brightly at her, the way how he was so triumphant when he brought her the ridiculous yankees’ onesie. yet here they stand, stranger than STRANGERS, as if the history between them is wiped clean -- as if, the opportunity never existed. maybe a part of her still loves him & maybe a part of her still wonders about the future she could’ve had with him -- her one shot at having a biological child. yet, here he stands with everything he’s ever wanted.

    so why can’t she be HAPPY for him? why can’t she be happy for... them? Her two BEST FRIENDS in the world. 

    when he speaks, she snaps out of her trance & only looks at him with a tightlipped smile. her head shakes as if everything that remains here is too surreal to be real.  

    “ calie’s getting married. can you believe that? and... you have a child now, ”  addison utters. her head cants, her cerulean gaze quivers in his presence.  “ sometimes i think about the child WE could’ve had... and, i remember that was the last chance for me to be... pregnant. ”

[hopelesslydimwitted]

so i had an idea. what if the Starblaster never got to Faerun? its an idea, they’d just keep going and going and going. but like... what if they found a plane that coveted a crewmember so much that it just... kept them?

“Man, I’m sure gonna miss this joint,” Taako said, beaming after a long day of being admired by the citizens of the plane they’d landed on for the cycle. “They got everything here! Delicious-ass food, great fashion- not as great as mine but y’know- and, the best part, they need science and work to do their transmuting, they can’t just do it, so I’m like a god to them!”

He and Magnus boarded the Starblaster, closing the doors to the beautiful outdoor scene. High, elegant buildings lined the horizon, far from the grassy plateau Davenport touched the interplanar ship down on. The skyline lights twinkled in the distance, illuminating the dark pink sunset with a soft white-yellow glow. They’d just gotten back from a food run, scoring a mountain of sweet pastries, spices, fruits, and meats.

“They think we’re all gods, Taak,” Magnus reminded him, showing off the elaborate, large golden bangle gifted to him from disciples of the local temple, who fawned over all of them and offered many blessings and gifts.

“I think that’s just because we’re leagues above them in the beauty department, Mags.”

“Oh, hell yeah!” Lup agreed, shouting from where she was lounging on a kitchen cabinet. She didn’t bother to help or move while the two boys unloaded their grocery satchels. “Not to be mean or anything, but they kind of look like if a dwarf fucked a potato.”

“Yeah, the poor bastards. They’ll never know what it’s like to be this beautiful.”

The three continued to joke around at the expense of the potato-dwarves for a while more, before settling into an easy silence. It was hard not to be comfortable around each other, even in silence or what should have been an awkward situation-- it would be hard to be uncomfortable around anyone you’d spent the last hundred years with. It made boredom less lonely and chores, like unpacking groceries, into a sort of dance as they weaved around each other, communicating without speaking.

“Y’know,” Magnus broke the silence after a few contemplative minutes. “Ugly as they are, I am glad we got the Light of Creation before John found it. Hopefully their scientific weaponry gadgets help protect them. Not that they’ll be alone on that front, whatnot with me helping and everythin.’”

“True, but you know those skyscrapers are goin’ down. There’s no way those clowns stay up.”

“Might as well admire the cities as much as we can… How many days do we have left, Lup?”

Lup checked a makeshift calendar they had put up in the kitchen. Each plane had a different definition of a ‘year,’ so they had to change their calendars each cycle. Sometimes a year was 365 days, sometimes it was 420 days. Still, the Hunger always gave them a plane’s worth of a year to prepare. They’d find out that plane’s solar orbit, Lucretia would make a calendar that they could track (divided by 12 to keep some semblance of normalcy, they aren’t animals), and would cross off each day as it passed. Special dates were marked- when John was expected to snoop in on their shit, when they would need to start any repairs or go on supply runs, dates of any deaths of the crew, and maybe the occasional planar celebration if it seemed fun enough.

By the look of this plane’s calendar, they had three days left.

It never got easier to look at. Cycle after cycle, always counting down the days until they had to make a run for the lives of all reality. Preparing for the next cycle of the exact same thing, in a different setting.

That’s why they had to find joy where they could (that, and Merle wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it)-- making fun of planar citizens, enjoying good food, taking in all the beautiful landscapes, or even just fucking shit up in planes that were already decrepit. Sometimes the only joy they had for a cycle was each other’s company. It made everything stay worth saving, and that was something that they couldn’t give up on, no matter what.

Two days passed, and the crew was waiting for their old friend to show up. They didn’t leave the Starblaster if they could help it, and had given warnings to those they thought would do the best with it.

The Hunger came.

They fought, and then they ran.

They always run.

Always the same.

Every time.

Except for now.

In the middle of running to the other side of the Starblaster to offer Lup arcane support, Taako felt something he’d never felt in all of their hundred-cycle journey.

He choked on his breath, clutching his chest as his knees gave out. Everything around him spun. Inside his chest, deep inside, it felt like something was being unraveled.

Something in his very core was being undone.

His heart stopped beating. He couldn’t breathe. All he could do was think and feel. It was so similar to how the bond engine would warp them back onto the Starblaster, in the same position and condition as when they’d left so many cycles ago, but it was so different at the same time. This was ruining, toxic, ripping him apart at the seams like he was being removed from the tapestry.

“-ko? Taako?!”

He looked up, saw Lup, his sister, his other half, his reason, terrified and confused, running for him in what seemed like slow motion. Panicked, he reached for her and

woke up.

Arm still outstretched, grasping for something- someone- that was not there.

He sat up with a gasp, heart fluttering like a raven’s wings and breath finally returning to fill his lungs with pain.

He was in an infirmary, but not the Starblaster’s infirmary.

A small, lumpy hand touched his shoulder and he jumped, whipping out his wand and pointing it right into the face of a potato-dwarf.

‘How… the fuck?’

He looked around, and he saw almost the exact same city he’d been in for the last few hundred days. The poisonous realization slowly crept into his bloodstream and he fought like hell to keep it out.

He stumbled on lead legs out of the infirmary and turned towards the sky looking for a sign, a glimpse, anything that might suggest that the Starblaster was still in the plane and maybe he’d just fallen out, that he’d be swept up in the golden bonds and put right back with his family, where he belonged--

He didn’t see anything. 

Not even the Hunger.

It was obvious that John had wreaked havoc. The towering, once beautiful skyscrapers now laid across the land in pieces; blackened parts of earth, building, and biological material of both Hunger and dead citizens were strewn everywhere; the once-vibrant oranges and pinks of this reality were now dull and gray and lifeless.

But there was no Hunger to be seen.

Taako was seeing what they were never able to witness before-- the aftermath of the Hunger. They’d always wondered, theorized what it might have looked like for the planes that weren’t vored whole.

Now, standing there, Taako knew on an almost intimate level that shit was royally fucked after the Hunger came and went.

And he knew that he was utterly and entirely alone, for the first time in his life.

[kyouryokusenshi]

Micaela Part 1/2

Ok ok, I’m finally getting to posting fics on Tumblr.

Post MSIV. Just a ton of fluff after Scully has the baby. And maybe a little surprise.

Tagging @today-in-fic

Many thanks to my BETA, WildwingSuz!!! :)

Mulder looked down at the tiny bundle in his arms. Their little miracle was fast asleep. She was already worn out from her big day as was her mother. He looked over to see that Scully was fast asleep. "You may not know it yet, but your mother is the most amazing person I know," he whispered as he thought back to how difficult and challenging Scully's pregnancy had been due to her age. He would never be able to thank her enough for making him a father to this tiny being. As if on cue, the baby's eyes slipped open and she mewled. "You are our little miracle," he whispered as he smoothed down the tuft of copper hair and lifted her to kiss her head. "We love you so much."

Mulder looked over to catch Scully gazing at them sleepily. He rewarded her with a wide smile and moved to hand the fussing baby to her. She sat up in the hospital bed as she received the baby. The hospital gown she was in was growing uncomfortable. Tiny arms waved about to indicate her dissatisfaction at being moved from her father's arms. "Hey there, baby girl," she whispered. The infant quieted instantly at the familiar sound of her mother's voice. Mulder and Scully had talked to the baby a lot while Scully was pregnant. She had explained that babies could make the distinction of their parents' voices fairly early while in utero.

"Have you decided on a name?" Mulder asked. Scully gazed down at their daughter who began rooting for the source of her food. Gently, she moved the baby's mouth towards her chest as she exposed one of her breasts and helped her latch on. It was another one of the many ways his partner was amazing. Not only because she was a doctor, but she had done this before. Even if it was many years ago.

"How about Micaela?” Scully asked. “My mom said if she’d had another daughter, she would have named her Michaela, because it means “God’s gift” and well, she is. Sometimes, I still wake up wondering if this is real.”

Mulder nodded. “It’s beautiful, just like her.”

“There are so many ways to spell it nowadays though,” Scully laughed.

“At least it isn’t Fox,” he smiled.

“I was thinking of Micaela, but without the “h”, that way people don’t confuse it with “Mitch”.”

“It’s perfect, Scully.”

Mulder smiled as she watched his daughter suckle hungrily at her mother's breast. He looked up at Scully. Her free hand was stroking the tiny arm that rested against her chest. "You told me you had wanted another child, and then told me in that church that you wanted another chance to start over and make things right. I lit that candle not because I believe in God, but because I believe in you. And then you told me a week later that I was a father," his voice broke. "But you know me, I want to believe, and I believe our daughter is a gift from God," he added with a teary chuckle. "I'd never thought I'd say this, but her existence makes me believe."

Tears welled in Scully's eyes as she looked back down at her daughter. She had beautiful eyes and only time would tell if she would have her or Mulder's eye coloring.

"I just wish my mom was here to see her. She had always wanted a granddaughter," her voice broke and the tears spilled over her cheeks. It was difficult holding back. Technically Emily was her granddaughter, but she died before Scully could be a mother to her.

"I know. She’d love her. She does. The dead aren’t lost to us,” he reminded her.

Scully imagined that her mother would say the baby was a gift from God. Especially since she was infertile and pregnant at fifty four. Her mother had told her about St. Rachel when she was much younger. A saint that was infertile and became pregnant late in life. The name of that motel they stayed in. She couldn’t believe she didn’t realize it sooner.

Mulder leaned down and kissed Scully’s forehead. He reached out and stroked the baby’s tiny cheek as she nursed.

Scully missed the close bond she had shared with her mother. The same bond she’d desperately wanted to have with Emily before she passed. It was the connection only a mother and daughter had. She hoped she would have that same bond with their daughter.

"I want to be able to give her everything that Mom gave us."

Mulder sat down on the bed next to Scully and their daughter. “We will. Age isn’t going to change how much we love her.” The baby had stopped suckling and Scully pulled the top part of her hospital gown back up as she moved to burp the baby with expertise.

"How about Micaela Margaret, after your mother?" Mulder suggested.

Scully pulled the baby back once she finished nursing and gazed down at her. "It's perfect. She's perfect."

"Just like you," Mulder smiled. "You still got it goin' on," he teased.

Scully narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm going to kill you if you say 'scoot in your boot' one more time, Mulder. That's what got us into this situation," she said knowing full well she'd do it all over again.

She’d had mixed feelings when she first found out she was pregnant so late in life, but she loved and wanted this child no matter how impossible it was. She knew Mulder did too.

The newly-named Micaela watched her parents as Mulder moved in to kiss her mother with a fierce passion. She mewled and tiny hands reached towards their faces.

Mulder pulled back a bit and they both stifled their laughter at their daughter's protests. That was when a nurse came into the room to check on Scully.

"I'll be right back, I need to use the boys’ room."

Scully nodded. "Okay, don't be long."

Scully looked down at her daughter, her eyes full of love. "I love you so much, I need you to know that." William had told her that he knew she loved him, although it was when he was disguised as Mulder. She still felt the need to make sure her child knew every day, even if she was never great at verbalizing her feelings. The baby cooed in response. When she first found out she was pregnant, Scully had no idea how she was going to do this again at fifty-four. She was in utter shock, yet she felt an immediate connection to the tiny being growing inside of her. Despite a difficult pregnancy, Scully yearned for this moment. "I'd do it all over again, just for you."

Micaela crooned in agreement.

Mulder returned in less than three minutes. "Hey,"

"That was fast," Scully said.

"Can't stay away from my girls long," he chuckled.

Scully's arms were growing tired. "Could you take her?" She needed to stretch desperately, as much as she didn't want to move her sleeping daughter.

Mulder gently took her into his arms and rocked her. "Hey there," he whispered. . The baby opened her eyes and mewled. It was a scene that melted Scully's heart.

He rocked the baby for a moment and then looked up suddenly as if he forgot something and handed the baby back to Scully, who looked at him curiously.

"I'm going to grab some coffee, I'll be right back.”

Scully nodded and smiled. "You better."

The baby started whimpering once Mulder left. "Hey sweetheart, it's okay. Daddy will be back soon, okay?"

As if on cue, Mulder walked back into the hospital room. Without the coffee.

"No coffee?" Scully asked curiously.

Mulder stopped and looked at her. "No, I'm good. Just had to use the restroom. Why?"

Scully's mouth opened slowly in startling realization.

Mulder grew worried. "What is it, Scully? Was I supposed to get you coffee? I'm sorry--"

Scully looked back at him in shock. "Mulder, he was here!"

"Who?"

"William... Jackson," she said as she gently rocked the baby.

Mulder gave her a puzzled look.

"He was here, Mulder. After you left... you came back and held our daughter and then said you had to go get coffee." She started to get up.

"No, Scully. You can't, he reminded her. Her recovery would take a while longer since she had a C-section.

Before she could protest, he ran into the hallway outside the hospital room and looked around. Even though part of him knew it was futile, he hurried down the corridors, much to the surprise of the staff.

He finally gave up after several minutes of looking.

In the distance, Jackson, while disguised as a nurse, watched as Mulder returned to join Dana in her hospital room. That had been very close. Mulder had nearly run into him, so he had to make the visit with his sister fast. She was beautiful and looked a lot like their mother, and he could see Mulder in her eyes and skin tone.

One thing was clear, they were dead set on finding him. Even now. He had wanted them to believe he was dead so that they could move on, but he still couldn't control all of the visions that he knew connected him with his mother. She knew he was alive.

He assumed that Mulder knew by now that Jackson, or William as they called him, wasn't biologically his child, but that didn't stop the man from chasing after him.

He knew they both loved him, but how much was hard for him to contemplate at times. No one else had cared that much, other than his adoptive parents, the Van De Kamps. They had already died because of him and he was determined that no harm would come to anyone else he loved.

The danger seemed to be over though, at least for now. The man that called himself his creator was dead.

Maybe he could go home to them someday.

END Part 1

[thegreenwomanswalkman]

Thank You

Yondu wakes up to warmth on his cheek. Last time he checked, he’d been floating in space with Peter clawing at his jacket. The boy’s screams got fainter as Yondu struggled to breathe. Eventually, everything just faded to black. But now, everything’s awash with a bright light.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” he slurs as he blinks. Hovering over him is a beautiful woman. Terran by the looks of it. She has long blonde hair that looks as gold as Ayesha’s headpiece. Her eyes, which examine him curiously, look familiar. A cerulean with little bits of sea green, like those on Xandar.

“Thank you,” the woman whispers in an ethereal tone.

“For what?” Yondu asks as she helps him sit up. He’s surprised that he’s not still floating in space. On the other hand, maybe he is and he’s just dreaming. Death could never be so kind to him.

“For saving my son.”

Peter’s mother…

Yondu blinks a couple of time. Can’t wrap his mind around the fact that he’s staring right into the eyes of Peter’s dead mother. “Where am I? What the hell are you doin’ here?”

Meredith smiles at him, a soft little thing. “On Earth, we’d call this place heaven.” She gestures to the space around them.  "I don’t know what they’d call it in your culture.“

"We just call it death,” Yondu says with a roll of his eyes. “Surprised I didn’t end up in some kind of hell dimension.”

“It don’t matter now.” Meredith’s still smiling at him, which is unnerving. The only women who ever smiled at him either wanted to kill him or have sex with him. “What matters is that you saved my son.”

“Did what I had to do, ma'am.” Yondu can feel his cheeks heating up. Ravagers aren’t supposed to care, to be soft. But in his final moments with Peter, with his son, he rejected that notion. “Ego wasn’t gonna get a hold'da my boy like that.”

Meredith pats the spot on some sort of cloud. Asking Yondu to sit beside her. “I used to think he was an angel. Ego, I mean. I knew Peter was an angel the moment I held him.” Her blue eyes, just like Peter’s, go soft and glossy as she thinks of her son. “I didn’t realize until after I died just what a horrible creature he was. Knew in death that he was the one that killed me so that he could get Peter.”

“I didn't deliver him though. Cargo, Peter was. But he was good for thievin’ and fittin’ in'ta small spaces. Wasn’t gonna let the boys eat him if we could use ‘im.”

“Yondu.” Meredith puts a warm hand on his. Her voice still sounds ethereal, like melting Xandarian chocolate on one’s tongue. Her skin feels warm, like the sunlight on his home planet, which he can barely remember. “There are no lies here. I know the reason why you kept Peter. And I’m glad you did.”

Suddenly, there’s a noise from somewhere behind the two. Yondu spins around, one hand brushing his coat back to reveal where his arrow would be. If he still had it. His other hand goes in front of Meredith as if to protect her.

“Yondu, look.” Her hand settles at his elbow and pulls his arm away, pointing at something in the distance. It looks like a holoboard, but square and there’s a back to it. “It’s called a TV. We’ve got 'em back on Earth.”

“What’s it doing?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes it shows me images or videos of Peter. It’s how I watched my baby grow up.” She points to the screen and grins. “Look, there he is.”

Yondu blinks and finds himself looking at Peter. And, what the fuck, that’s his body. It’s wrapped in the typical Ravager funeral fashion. Yondu imagines Kraglin had a hand in it because he’d never really let Peter see a funeral. Only when he sent someone into space via the airlock. 

“Why’’s he cryin’?” He knows it’s a stupid question the second it comes out of his mouth. Meredith whacks him over the head anyway.

“'Cause he just lost his biological father and his dad all in one go.” She shakes her head. “Have a heart, Yondu. No one’s judging you here.” She points to the TV. “Now hush. I wanna listen.”

“I told Gamora how when I was a kid I used to pretend David Hasselhoff was my dad,” Peter starts, his head bowed. Tears gather in the corner of his eyes, but he doesn’t cry. “He’s a singer and actor from earth, really famous guy. Yondu didn’t have a talking car, but he did have a flying arrow. He didn’t have a beautiful voice of an angel, but he did have the whistle of one.”

Yondu’s frozen in place. Meredith sniffles beside him and he reaches into his pocket. At least his handkerchief’s still there. “Thank you,” she whispers, blowing her nose.

“Both Yondu and David Hasselhoff went on kick-ass adventures and hooked up with hot women, and fought robots. I guess David Hasselhoff did kinda end up being my dad, after all. Only it was you, Yondu.”

“David Hasselhoff is really that special to the kid?”

“Used to talk about him all the time. Watched his show whenever it was on TV.” Meredith looks up at him with those baby blues and smiles. It’s that damn soft smile that could melt even the hardest of hearts. “I can’t see the resemblance physically, but you have the same heart.” She turns back to the TV. “He’s not done. I wanna hear this.”

“I had a pretty cool dad." A tear finally falls and Gamora grabs his hand. "What I’m trying to say here is… sometimes, that thing you’re searching for your whole life is right there by your side all along, and you don’t even know it.” Meredith watches as he rubs his thumb over the back of Gamora’s hand and smiles softly at her.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Meredith whispers. “Well, I guess I didn’t, but I’m seein’ it now.”

“What?” Yondu squints. “I can’t see nothin’ important. I mean, that speech was mighty nice, but–”

“Look, Yondu.” The scene shifts and fireworks are exploding above the trail of Yondu’s ashes. He tears up a little bit, but his eyes follow Meredith’s finger to where Peter and Gamora are standing next to each other.

On the screen, Peter turns to Gamora. There’s something in her eyes that Yondu can’t read, but Meredith seems to understand.

“What?” Peter asks.

Gamora shakes her head. “Just… some unspoken thing.”

Meredith turns to Yondu. “Do you see it now?”

Yondu scratches his head. “I’m guessin’ it has to do with that unspoken thing.” It comes out as more of a question, but Meredith’s beaming at him. His heart soars and he wishes he could punch it in the face. If it had one.

“You’re a good man, Yondu.” Meredith’s voice sounds full of sincerity and maybe he doesn’t wanna punch his heart in the metaphorical face as much as he should be wanting to. She grabs his hand and squeezes. “Thank you. For taking care of my son.”

So, this came out Not really sure if I got Yondu’s voice right, but I wanted him to have some form of redeption after death. And Meredith is always just shoved to the side, so I brought her back. Yondu needs to be thanks for what he did. And who better to thank him than Peter’s mom. 

Hopefully you guys liked this!

For:

@starbusters

@starmora

@pikapegasus

[leftinthedarkofficial]

Seize the Night

Part One

Johnny sat on the front steps of the five floor walk-up he lived in, sipping on a beer. It was a scorcher of a day and Timothy, Billy, and Ricky all sat around him in sleeveless light-colored shirts, shorts, and sneakers coated in sweat. Johnny didn't seem bothered by the heat at all, much to the annoyance of the boys, who had started calling him Pallbearer when Johnny had revealed that everything he owned was black. Even now Johnny had paired his black under shirt with black jeans and motorcycle boots, and he never once broke a sweat.

“Hey, John,” Timothy said, smacking Johnny on the shoulder with the back of his hand. “Pass me another beer, will you?” Wordlessly, Johnny reached down into the ice chest and grabbed a can out, handing it back to Timothy who immediately cracked the can open and placed the bottom of it on his forehead. “Why is it so hot?” he groaned.

“Because it's July, and we're in Hell,” Billy said dramatically, sticking his hand into the water in the ice chest before smearing it on his face and neck.

Johnny scoffed. “This isn't Hell. Not even close.”

“To you, maybe, Pallbearer. I don't know how you haven't had a sun stroke in all that black,” Ricky said, standing with a grunt. “I'm gonna go check on Gran. Make sure the window unit's blowin' cool.”

“How's she doin'?” Timothy asked.

“She's tough, but she's eighty-three. And probably meltin' like the rest of us, anyhow.” Ricky shrugged and trudged up the steps and into the hallway between apartments. He turned back to them before he shut the door. “If by some miracle it's cool in there, you may not see me again today.”

“Oh, yes we will!” Billy called over his shoulder. He lowered his voice and continued. “We're goin' to that new pub tonight.” He drummed his feet on the pavement in front of him, his blue eyes sparkling as he smiled at Johnny and wiggled his eyebrows. “All of the pretty ladies will be in attendance!”

“All of the 'pretty ladies' will be there to have a good time. Leave 'em alone, Bill,” Timothy scolded. He and Ricky were the oldest of the boys at twenty-three, but Timothy often played the big brother to all of them, except for Johnny. Johnny Viridian was a mystery, even after all of the years that they had known him. He never said much about his thoughts or his feelings, but he was always there for them when they needed him. Johnny always helped them with their homework when they were in school, and listened when they needed to talk, filling in when their own families had seemed distant or unsympathetic.

None of them were sure just how old Johnny was, but they knew that he was at the very least five years older than Timothy. Eight years before, when Johnny had moved into the apartments, Timothy and Ricky had been fifteen, Timothy's little brother Frank had been almost ten, and Billy had just turned eight. They all thought that Johnny was twenty, but he hadn't aged a single day in all of those years, and Timothy wondered sometimes if one day he might look older than Johnny.

Timothy's thoughts wandered back to the afternoon many years ago when Johnny had been headed to his motorcycle and Timothy had offered him a beer. Timothy and Ricky had stolen the alcohol from Timothy and Frank's dad, and to their surprise Johnny had accepted. They'd seen Johnny around and they'd known that he was basically Billy's foster dad; something that the other boys all appreciated.

The boys loved each other, and Billy was like their little brother. When Billy told them how Johnny had been taking care of him, in their minds someone was finally doing right by the kid. They appreciated everything that Johnny was doing for one of their own, and they wanted to get to know him better and show their appreciation. After the afternoon that Johnny had first sat on the stoop with Timothy and Ricky he came to sit with them more and more often, until he was there every day.

Johnny kept the boys out of trouble, watching out for them as they'd gotten older, but Billy was like his own son. Billy's real father had split before he was born, and his mother had run off to Toledo when he was four. The state had placed Billy with his mother's sister Geraldine, but she hated having him around. She would yell at him when he was there, or make him study religious texts on pain of corporal punishment. She often kicked him out, sometimes for weeks at a time.

Billy stayed with Timothy and Frank on those occasions at first, though Timothy and Frank's parents seemed like they had always hated the little boy. They avoided Billy at all costs when he was around, and their father would be downright mean to him. After Johnny moved in, when Billy had nowhere to go, Johnny would let him crash on the recliner, until he'd stayed at Johnny's enough to have his own cot in the living room. Johnny always kept Billy's favorite snacks stocked in his kitchen, and every week he'd buy a new horror movie for him to watch until he'd memorized the whole thing.

Johnny was the only adult that seemed to be able to stand Billy's presence, and often people mistook them as being biological father and son. Billy did resemble Johnny in many ways. His eyes were the same shade of blue, and his hair was jet-black and curly, just like Johnny's. They had similar facial features and they were both fair-skinned. Billy was relatively tall for a sixteen year old, and Timothy guessed that Billy would end up being the same height as Johnny, or at least close to it.

None of the boys ever corrected people when they saw Johnny and Billy and assumed they were related. In truth, there was no need to; they considered themselves father and son in every way but blood. Billy called Johnny Pops most of the time, unless the conversation they were having was somber. In those moments Billy said that Pops was too informal, and he would call him Dad. Johnny had always acted as Billy's father would, so Billy said that he deserved the title.

Johnny made sure that Billy got to school, and forged Geraldine's signature on Billy's school forms and field trip permission slips because his aunt couldn't be bothered. Johnny gave Billy money for food, bought him clothes, school supplies, and shoes that weren't ratty or scavenged, and he was the only one that seemed to be able to get Billy to behave when the boys had been younger.

Now that Billy had turned sixteen Johnny seemed to have eased up on him a little, but he would still reign him in if he got a little too reckless. Billy sometimes spoke before he considered whether his words might strike someone the wrong way. Coupled with the fact that people already seemed predisposed to dislike him, it could get him into trouble. Johnny had done his best to teach him how to mind his sarcasm, but sometimes it seemed like Billy couldn't help himself.

Inevitably it would end up with him getting a talk from Johnny about being more aware of himself. Timothy and the other boys had been subject to Johnny's speeches on good behavior before when they'd done foolish things, and Timothy didn't envy anyone on the wrong end of one of Johnny's lectures. Now that Timothy was an adult he had to admit that he was grateful for the good influence in all of their lives, though Johnny could be a little scary at times.

“You're too young to be chasing the girls that will be at The Inferno, boy,” Johnny said, shaking his head as Timothy returned from his deep thinking.

“I'll keep an eye on him, John.” Timothy said. “Any girl tries to talk to him I'll give her my number instead.”

“Come on. Let me live a little, would you?” Billy asked as he crushed an empty beer can and tossed it at Timothy.

Timothy batted it away and it landed in Johnny's lap. “Sorry, Johnny.”

Billy scratched the back of his head and quirked up one corner of his mouth. “Yeah, sorry, Pops.”

Johnny shook his head and chuckled softly, picking the can up to add it to the other empties. “You know that I'm used to the shenanigans.”

“Hey, what about you? You gonna go with us tonight?” Timothy asked.

“Maybe. I don't know,” Johnny said, leaning back on his elbows on the steps. He tilted his head back to look up at the clouds rolling in. “You know me. I'd just as soon stay in with my records.”

“Girls, Pops,” Billy said in a sing-song voice. “Pretty girls.”

“I'm sure tonight's not my last chance to see an attractive woman, Bill,” Johnny chuckled. Johnny never had been the type to gawk at people, especially not women. Even when girls would try to catch Johnny's attention he would cast his eyes elsewhere. The boys had thought at first that maybe Johnny liked other guys, or maybe he had a secret wife back wherever it was that Johnny had come from, so they didn't say much to him about his preferences figuring he'd tell them if it was important.

Billy sighed in disappointment. “Well, I just want us all to go and have fun.”

The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes when Johnny suddenly sat bolt upright, looking around the street in front of him as though he was looking for someone or something. “Did you feel that?” he asked, his brows knitted together.

“What?” Timothy asked.

“Feel what?” Billy asked at the same time as he sat up straight, holding his hand out. “What is it? Rain? I don't feel nothin'. Somethin' smells like mint, though. What is that?”

Johnny cut his eyes in Billy's direction briefly, but then shook his head. “The mint smell is strange, but that's not what I'm talking about. It was like a cold breeze,” Johnny said, standing to his feet. “It felt like it blew right off of a snow drift.”

“Pallbearer, if I'd have felt a cold breeze I would've called the papers,” Timothy joked.

“I swear, I—” Johnny began, but his words seemed to catch in his throat as they all watched the most ethereal looking woman Timothy had ever seen walk across the pavement in front of them.

Billy smacked Johnny hard on the leg. “Do you see her, too? Did I die? Have I died?”

“Billy!” Timothy gestured with his head, cutting his eyes up at Johnny who's own eyes were wide as he watched the girl pass by. “Do you see his reaction? What the Hell?” Timothy whispered, confusion on his face as he shrugged and Billy shrugged back.

The other boys could see that the girl was beautiful. She was wore a short, white, button-up sundress, light flip-flops that slapped against her heels as she walked, and an anklet with charms shaped like silver wings that chimed together as she moved. Her hair was long, honey-blonde, and it curled in spirals with strands that came down to gently frame her face. Her skin was lightly tanned and smooth, her lips a natural pink, and her light-amber eyes glittered in the sunlight.

None of those things were any more remarkable than any of the other girls that passed by their stoop all the time, but there was something different about this girl, and it definitely caught Johnny's attention. She was past them a few feet when she turned and smiled brightly over her shoulder as her eyes locked to Johnny’s, and she waved her delicate fingers before turning to keep walking.

Once she was well out of earshot Timothy wasted no time setting into Johnny with questions. “What was that reaction? You've never looked at anybody like that. Not in eight whole years of knowin' you. Do you know her?” he asked. When Johnny just looked back at him speechlessly, a surprised expression on his face, Timothy raised his hand toward him, snapping his fingers. “Ground Control to Major Tom? Can you hear me?”

“I don't know her, but there's something...” Johnny finally said, trailing off as he narrowed his eyes. “There was something familiar about her.”

“It's like she kind of gave off her own light,” Billy said, smiling at Johnny.

“Yeah, that,” Johnny said, pointing at Billy, still looking in the direction the girl had gone with an unsettled look on his face.

“Are you alright, Pallbearer? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Timothy said, raising his eyebrows.

“I'm fine, it's just...She was weird, is all.” Johnny shook his head, putting his hands on his hips as he looked off in the direction she had gone.

Billy scoffed and scratched the back of his head. “Weird? There was absolutely nothing weird about that girl, at least that I could see. Damn, I would give my left…Hell, my left everything to know a girl like that.”

“Yeah, well you’d have to, Bill,” Timothy said, taking a swig of his beer to hide his smile.

Billy shot Timothy an annoyed glare. “Meh meh meh,” he said in a mocking tone.

“Oh, it's a joke, William,” Timothy grumbled defensively.

“Boys...” Johnny said in a warning tone. “Cool it.”

“Sorry, John. So...you should definitely go with us tonight in case mystery girl shows up, right?” Timothy asked, raising his eyebrows.

Johnny still hadn’t moved, and seemed to be ignoring Timothy's question. He stretched his arms out in front of him, popping his knuckles, then without looking at either of his friends he hurried down the steps. “I’m going for a ride.”

“I can't believe you're thinkin' of wearing a helmet in this heat.” Timothy cracked open another beer, raking the melted ice off the side of the can onto the top of his head.

“You boys won't let me ride without it, and I don't want to hear you nag! Besides, I’ve been much hotter, Tim. Trust me,” Johnny said, climbing on his bike, buckling his helmet on.

“Suit yourself, Johnny,” Timothy said.

Johnny walked the bike a few steps away from the curb and looked back over his shoulder. “I'll be back in about an hour,” he said. He looked up at the clouds thickening overhead, and added, “Maybe half an hour. I hate riding in the rain.” He kick started the motorcycle and rode away in the opposite direction of the way the mystery girl had gone.

Part Two Pre-Order Here

[nicenight]

A Little More Human

Rating: General

Relationships: Genji Shimada & Angela “Mercy” Ziegler, Jesse McCree & Genji Shimada

Word count: 1700+

Tags: hurt/comfort, angst, trauma, self-hatred, emotional hurt, shame, platonic gency and platonic mcgenji but you can easily read romance into it if you want haha

Summary: Genji, ashamed of his newly acquired cyborg body, struggles with feelings of self-loathing and disgust. Dr. Ziegler and Jesse McCree provide support.

read it on ao3

 Dr. Ziegler insisted on checking up with him weekly. It had long past the point where such frequent appointments were necessary as Genji’s physical health had improved significantly the past few months.

 Every week she would measure his heart rate, ask if he is experiencing any new pain, followed by having him slowly curl his fingers and bend his limbs to ensure proper connection between his robotic parts and neurology.

 Mostly, she would just talk to him though. Dr. Ziegler was an incredible physician but she wasn’t a trained therapist and Genji often had the impression that that was the role she was attempting to emulate. Or perhaps it was just in her nature to establish a personal connection between herself and her patients. Her disposition was warmer than that of a somewhat distant shrink and her eyes conveyed genuine kindness and interest. Genji knew she meant well but he couldn’t help but resent her for it.

 Sometimes her kindness felt too sickly sweet to him and her inquiries about how he was feeling sometimes made him grit his teeth. It made him feel coddled, like an invalid. She pitied him and it made him sick to his core. But at the same time he was desperate to be understood, for soft affection, for a gentle hand resting on his remaining biological one and that intense need made him somewhat ashamed. It made him fully aware of just how broken he was. An amalgam of flesh, circuits, blood, and metal. Neither human nor machine but something in the middle and the thought made his head spin.

 Dr. Ziegler invited him into her office one afternoon. He sat on the edge of the examination table while the doctor carefully pressed a stethoscope to his exposed chest. The metal was like ice on his skin and the hairs on his arm raised.

 “How are you feeling today, Genji?” She asked. “Have you been well?”

 Inexplicable anger coursed through him. Do you honestly think I’ve been doing well? he wanted to say but he bit his tongue before the bitter retort could come out.

 “I’m fine, Doctor.” He said instead, voice stiff and slightly constrained. His caustic tone wasn’t lost to her.

 Dr. Ziegler opened her mouth to say something but closed it. She took a moment to jot a note onto her clipboard and carefully set it down on her desk. A few seconds of silence passed before she spoke up.

 “It’s not my intention to cross any boundaries,” She began carefully. “But if I do, forgive me. I just want to let you know that you can tell me if something is wrong...I know the change hasn’t been easy for you but I’m here to help you through it.”

 “I did say I was fine, didn’t I?” Genji responded, annoyance clear in his voice.

 “Yes, but-”

 “So just leave me be.” This was not something he wanted to talk about. This was not something he felt had to explain to anyone.

 “Genji,” Dr. Ziegler started. “I want to make sure you’re well. Not just because it’s my job but because I do care about you, truly. If my words offended you, I’m sorry. I just believe it’s important for you to know that if something is troubling you, I’m here.”

 She rested her hand on the skin of his shoulder but the sensation was too much. He recoiled, sliding off the edge of the table and stood.

 “But why?” He asked, voice raising. “Why do you care so much?”

 “Liebe, please calm down.” She raised her hands in a placating gesture. “I care because you’re my patient and I can see you’re in a lot of pain and-”

 “Don’t.” Genji said, trembling. “Don’t…”

 He curled in on himself slightly, glancing between the floor below him and the door to his right. In his peripheral he could see the dark grey metal that made up the majority of his body and he bit the inside of his cheek hard.

 Dr. Ziegler was silent. He heard her move closer and his body tensed. When her hand touched his shoulder once again he lashed out, slapping her hand away.

 “Don’t touch me ,” He gasped. He could see the hurt in her eyes and the way she cradled her hand and felt disgusted with himself. He was disgusting.

 “Please have a seat, Genji.” Dr. Ziegler said, her voice soft and concerned.

 “No.” He said firmly. His eyes lingered on the door.

 “Genji-”

 “I SAID NO,” He shouted. His swept his arm to the side and knocked over the operating tray next to the table. It slammed loudly to the floor, scattering metal surgical instruments and a surprised gasp escaped Dr. Ziegler.

 He backed away and saw the look of shock in her eyes. She was afraid- afraid of him . In that moment he became hyper-aware of the way he must look to her. Wild red eyes, wires jutting from what was left of his body, suited in cold metal. A broken man, something inhuman.

 He turned on his heel, threw the office door open and sprinted down the hallway. He could hear her voice calling out to him, hear the clack of her shoes against the floor as she chased him but he was quick. Much quicker than her. His breath came out in harsh puffs as he rounded a corner and slammed head on into someone.

 Genji stumbled as the man fell on his behind, a surprised shout escaping him.

 “God damn , watch where you’re goin’ will ya?” Jesse grumbled, struggling to stand on his two feet.

 Genji attempted to run past him but was held back by a hand firmly grasping his robotic arm.

 “Where in the world do you think you’re rushin’ off t-” Jesse started but was interrupted by a fist knocking against his jaw.

 “Let me go!” Genji shouted but the grip on his right arm remained. He swung his left fist out again but it was caught before contact was made.

 Jesse held Genji’s arms tightly, anger very clear in his face.

 “You little- what the fuck is wrong with you?” Jesse growled. Genji struggled to escape his grasp but the larger man kicked his legs out from under him, causing Genji to topple to the ground. Jesse quickly had him pinned and he could hear the tell-tale sound of Dr. Ziegler’s footsteps approaching. His heart thudded loudly in his chest.

 “Herr McCree, what do you think you’re doing!?” She exclaimed. “Get off of him this instant!”

 Jesse relinquished his hold but, suddenly overwhelmed, Genji made no effort to leave. He just laid on his back, body stiff and arms trembling as he moved to cover his face. He couldn’t breathe. Adrenaline coursed through him but the urge to run was gone.

 Dr. Ziegler dropped to her knees next to him, hands hovering over his body but reluctant to touch.

 “Are you okay, liebe?” She asked tentatively.

 A sudden sob broke through Genji’s chest and he was ashamed. He felt weak, like a child but once the tears started he couldn’t get them to stop. He gritted his teeth and convulsed as a hand stroked through his dark hair.

 She hushed him, nails lightly scratching his scalp and a wretched wail tore from his throat. It echoed off the metal walls and Genji was vaguely astonished that such a pained and pitiful sound could come from him.

 “You’ll be okay.” Dr. Ziegler said softly. “You’re going to be okay. I know you’re hurting but everything will be okay.”

 Jesse stood awkwardly by, unsure of what to do and somewhat embarrassed by the situation. Regardless, he stayed and after a moment elected to crouch down next to the doctor and loosely grasped Genji’s hand in his own.

 The three of them stayed like that for a few minutes and Genji was torn between wanting to rip himself away and cling desperately to them both. He truly felt like a child, crying pathetically with a deep desire to be held and comforted. The hand in his hair made him think of his mother and the hand on his own, his brother. The thought forced another sob out of him and he tightened his grip on Jesse’s palm.

 It wasn’t long before Genji’s cries faded and were slowly replaced with steady, shallow breaths. He felt numb, disconnected from his body and light-headed.

 “So, uh…” Jesse finally said after a few minutes of silence. “Do ya need a drink or somethin'? Like a beer or...sake?”

 “Don’t encourage such unhealthy behavior.” Dr. Ziegler scoffed.

 “Hey, a drink now and then never hurt nobody, Doc. Relax.” Jesse said, idly rubbing the red bump forming on his jaw. “Matter a’ fact I think I may need one soon to dull this ache.”

 Genji slowly sat up, back hunched. He stared blankly at the wall in front of him. His nerves were shot and his brain buzzed.

 “Hangin’ in there bud?” Jesse asked.

 “You could say that,” Genji said simply, voice devoid of emotion. He paused a moment before adding: “Sorry I hit you.”

 “Hah, don’t sweat it.” Jesse said, “I had worse, believe me. Not a bad left hook ya got there, though.”

 “I think maybe we should get out of this hallway before someone comes,” Dr. Ziegler suggested. “If you like, Genji, perhaps we could rendezvous outside my office? Or would you rather be alone for now?”

 Genji was silent. He thought of his earlier actions, the glinting medical instruments strewn on the floor, the shocked look on Dr. Ziegler’s face and cringed. He didn’t want to be alone but he couldn’t bear being around her after all that. He was embarrassed over his breakdown and he wiped the tear tracks from his face.

 “I’m...I’ll go with you.” He said finally. “I’ll clean up your office...I’m- sorry.”

 “Don’t worry about it.” She said, offering her hand to him as she stood. He stared at it for a moment before taking it in his own and standing with her.

 Jesse lifted himself up as well and tucked his hands in the pocket of his jeans.

 “Well...I guess this is where we part ways.” He said. “I’ll catch ya later, Doc. And take care, Genji. The drink offer still stands, just so ya know.”

 Dr. Ziegler rolled her eyes and smiled softly as Jesse meandered off.

 “Let’s go then, shall we?” She said, starting off in a brisk walk. Genji followed closely behind, shoulders hunched slightly and face red from crying. The shame remained but the hurt had faded into a dull ache.

 He felt better but not by much.

[sserpente]

Words: 2364 Warnings: kidnapping (duh), violence, mentions of rape

A/N: Boomer’s back! I missed our cheeky Aussie, did anyone else? Just a quick side note—I thought a lot about how to write this Imagine, for obviously, Amanda is a coloured woman. Given that many RCs are not, I want to hereby remark that it is in no way mentioned whether the Reader is Amanda’s biological daughter or adopted, so I can be sure all of my readers can enjoy reading the same. ♥ Don’t forget, we’re all beautiful just the way we are!

University had been all but exhausting today. With two of your professors complaining how you had not handed in an essay that had been due today, all you wished for now was a hot bath, a good book and maybe a jar of chocolate cream to calm your nerves.

Being Amanda Waller’s daughter wasn’t easy, after all. While other students faced everyday problems like break-ups, financial problems or not being able to decide what to wear for the next party, you kept finding yourself in life-threatening situations.

Not that you wanted to be a part of her Task Force X madness in first place, especially not when you had heard that she basically forced alleged super villains to cooperate by putting a bomb in their necks. No, there was no alignment with the government on your part, for you had made clear you wanted your jobwise career to go in a completely different direction—writing was what interested you. Books, scripts or poems, you did not care. Wherever there were words, you read them, devoured them with your eyes.

A sigh escaped your lips. Amanda had been reluctant at first, wanting only the best for you, despite her harsh attitude sometimes. Deep inside, however, and so you knew, she loved you dearly and would do anything to protect you—even if that meant that she had to admit to one weakness. A weakness that could be leveraged.

You frowned uneasily when you suddenly heard a strange rustling in the bushes next to the empty path you were walking on. It was twilight already, the street lanterns not yet turned on and the sun saying her last goodbye before disappearing on the horizon to be replaced by the moon. A full moon.

There was no time for you though to admire the wonders of nature, for the creature hurtling out from behind the bushes startled you to the core. You wanted to scream and to run away, shout for help, anything. But you were frozen on the spot, your hands clutching your bag tightly as your lips parted in shock.

The creature, as you figured only the fraction of a second later, was a man storming towards you, his movements too quick for you to recognise his face as he wrapped his left arm around your waist, his right hand covering your throat, ready to squeeze your windpipe at any moment.

“Yuh scream an’ yah’ll regret it dearly.” A throaty voice, thick with an Australian accent, whispered hoarsely in your ear, a hot breath brushing against your skin. You swallowed thickly, your eyes widening in horror.

Self-defence, self-defence, self-defence! What was that move your former self-defence teacher had showed you when someone grabbed hold of you from behind, threatening to strangle you? No matter how hard you tried, you could not remember. Instead, you felt the stranger—a muscly man with rather shabby clothes—drag you back behind the bushes.

He’s going to rape you, he’s going to kill you… Your fearful thoughts were the last thing going through your head before you felt a light sting in your arm, a hostile liquid surging through your veins. Then, there was nothing but darkness.

“An’ I said I had a plan, craziness. Yah wait fah me where I told yuh tah. Nah, she won’t. She ain’t gonnah blow our fuckin’ heads up. Not if she wants her lovely lil’ daughtah back. I have. I’ll know all of Waller’s lil’ secrets by dawn, now shut up an’ call me when yuh done.”

It was his voice that ripped you from a dreamless and unpleasant sleep, your body still fighting the intruding liquid that had drugged you, forcing you into unconsciousness.

Your head was drowsy, your mind clouded. It took you a minute to recall what had happened.

You had been walking home from university—all alone—until a man had suddenly grabbed you and abducted you, bringing you to God knew where. Had he raped you already? Where you going to be held hostage? Was he alone, were there others?

Immediately, you felt yourself panicking, your pulse quickening as your heart was in your mouth. Your rose rather clumsily from an old battered leather couch, taking in as much of your surroundings as possible. Maybe you weren’t too far from home. Maybe you’d be able to cry for help, to call the police and describe them what it looked like in your environment…

Your hope was soon crushed when your captor hung up the phone and let it slip into one of his pockets—there were many. If you wanted to secretly snatch it from him, you would have to be lucky. Unfortunately, however, he seemed to read your thoughts as he followed your gaze to his grey leather coat.

“Don’t even think about it, luv.” It was when he stepped into the light and you were to see his face for the first time. Fear and shock washed through you. Dark beard, unnaturally blue eyes… You knew this man. It was Digger Harkness aka Captain Boomerang, one of the lackeys Amanda had forced into her Task Force X program.

As for now, you were dealing with a dangerous and probably mad super villain who threw boomerangs as sharp as knives, killing people like it was a sport in the process.

Instantly, you began to shiver, attempting to move away—only there wasn’t much room to do so.

“Stop freakin’ out, I won’t hurt yah as long as yah cooperate.” He said with a malicious smirk, showing off a golden tooth as he did.

Cooperate. How would you cooperate? You had overheard him saying something about Waller’s little secrets. Was that the reason he had kidnapped you? Did Amanda know?

“I… please… I don’t know anything about Amanda Waller’s plans… my mother doesn’t involve me in—“

Interrupted by a sharp pain on your left cheek, your head was forced to the side. You realised with a start that Boomerang had smacked you.

“I’m not in a playin’ mood, luv. Save yuh lies fah the cops when I’m done with yah. Now,” He sat down on the couch next to you, positioning himself so you couldn’t get away. Please, God, let me get out of this alive.

Your breath was shaking when you finally turned back to him, forcing yourself to look him directly in the eye, even though it scared the hell out of you. That man was intimidating but you were not going to show him any kind of submission.

“I have a couple a’ questions fah yuh an’ if yuh answer them nicely, yah’ll make this a lot easier fah both of us. I’m not gonnah lie, yuh’re a pretty lil’ thing, I wouldn’t want tah mess up that beautiful face a’ yours.”

“Please… don’t… don’t hurt me… I-I… I will try to help but I-I don’t know anything about my mother’s affairs. She’s…” You suppressed a sob, “She’s very discrete when it comes to stuff like that.”

The Captain’s eyebrows rose and for a brief moment you feared he would slap you again.

“Carin’ mothah, huh? Makin’ sure her precious lil’ daugthah doesn’t get intah any trouble. Sucks fah her she didn’t put up any effort tah hide yah properly then. Yah clearly know who I am so yah know somethin’.”

Shivering, you bit your lower lip, attempting to move away once more. Being this close to him made you nervous but as soon as he noticed, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer to his muscly body. You could feel the weight of his heavy and deadly boomerangs underneath his grey leather coat.

“I-I only know about her Task Force X project. That she gathered a group of… of… vi-villains who were supposed to ensure the country’s safety from th-threats but… it-it got out of hand…” You stuttered, avoiding making any more body contact than necessary.

Boomerang scoffed. “Yeah, it got outtah hand, cos’ we made a move an’ stood up against this crazy bitch. Where’s Flag? Is he still trackin’ our whereabouts?”

Flag?

“I-I don’t know who Flag is.” Your sob was audible this time. If you didn’t get it together and tried to regain your composure, you would start crying in front of him. You couldn’t possibly give him the answers he desired and you were scared of the consequences that would pose to you.

“Flag. Rick Flag, the colonel? Idiot with three degrees an’ in love with a possessed archeologist?”

You shook your head, once more expecting him to punch you. The painful blow never came.

When you looked up, you watched Boomerang rolling his eyes before he grabbed your waist even tighter, his fingers digging firmly into your skin. You gasped at the sudden force, sure that he would leave bruises.

“What about Deadshot’s daughtah, is she safe? Does Waller know where she is an’ if yes, is she gonnah leave her alone? I kinda owe him a debt.”

Your lips parted in surprise. “Deadshot has a daughter?”

The Captain quirked one eyebrow. “An’ guess what, Waller still sent him out there, knowin’ his offspring could end up as an orphan.” He spat, his voice heavy with disgust.

“What? But… but it’s all secured!” You exclaimed, unsure of what to believe now. “My mother’s soldiers fight in groups and they are provided—“

“Do yah even know what’s goin’ on out there, luv? There’s a fuckin’ witch tryin’ tah blow this whole place up an’ take ovah the world an’ yah tellin’ me yah didn’t know? What kind of mothah is that crazy witch? She sent us on a fuckin’ suicide mission an’ yah know what? She doesn’t give a fuck whethah we’re gonnah make it out of there alive.”

“She… she wouldn’t send out her soldiers knowing that they couldn’t stand a chance.” You muttered, not quite believing his words. You were frowning know, finally daring to look him in the eye again, for you had concentrated your gaze on his golden necklace.

Boomerang’s face somewhat softened. “Well, clearly, she does. Reckon yuh beloved mummy didn’t tell yah about how many people she killed tah ensure the ‘national safety’.” When your eyes widened even more and frightened, disappointed and desperate tears came rolling down your reddened cheeks, he finally seemed to realise you indeed knew nothing about any of what was going on.

“I don’t… I mean I chose not to be a part of this. She asked me to join her but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to, not after what I had heard about her putting life-threatening nanites in the necks of… it’s… I-I’m sorry this happened to you. I know you… you do bad things but… no one should…” A whimper escaped your lips when the Aussie let go of you.

“Yah really don’t know anythin’, do yah?” All of a sudden, there was a soft and soothing tone in his voice, warming you from the inside out. How could this criminal go from deadly and aggressive to calming and gentle this quick?

“Please… please let me go, I don’t want to be a part of this.”

“I can’t let yah go, luv. As long as I have yah, Waller ain’t gonnah blow our freakin’ heads up.”

You whimpered once more, hugging your knees in an attempt to comfort yourself. Boomerang looked down at you, his blue eyes almost glistening with pity as he watched your pathetic state.

“Okay, look, here’s the deal. Yah stay here with me until we found this bloody doctah the Joker forced tah deactivate Harley’s nanite, so we can be sure tah be safe when we leave the country. But yah gonnah have tah stay in this apartment, alright? No funny business, no phone calls, no nothin’, an’ I won’t hurt yah, yah got me?”

You hesitated. Your mouth opened to reply but there was no sound escaping your lips. He was offering to let you go unharmed, even if he would do so a little delayed. Was it possible? That you would indeed make it out of this alive? Tears formed in your eyes—it was both relief and fear that washed through you now, causing the salty water to wet your cheeks.

“O-okay.” You finally replied, your voice almost breaking in the process.

Sighing, Boomerang pulled you in a tight embrace, pressing your face against his chest and resting his chin on your head. You were terrified, tried to push him away to no avail until you noticed he was indeed just hugging you to try and… comfort you?

“I’m sorry. I won’t hurt yah anymore. Yah gonnah be fine, alright? I’ll protect yah.” Involuntarily at first, your eyes fell shut as you finally relaxed and leaned into his touch, his muscly arms around you granting you a feeling of secureness. When was the last time Amanda had hugged you like this?

It was then you realised you had been wrong about those so-called villains all along. Perhaps Boomerang was tricking you into believing you were safe, perhaps his friends were on their way now to off you on the spot but for now, you couldn’t help but believe him.

He was but trying to save his own life, after all, getting free from the clutches of a woman who threatened to end his life if he didn’t act her way. It disgusted you deeply that woman was your own mother, that she had never told you about her dark schemes. You loved her, that much was for sure, but right now, you were disappointed—and you wanted to talk to her, ask her to stop this.

The sudden softness in Boomerang’s eyes startled you as he gently grabbed your wrists and helped you on your feet before wiping away a lone tear on your cheek and for a brief moment even made you forget that that man—murderer, bank robber and fugitive—had kidnapped you in first place. You had the strange feeling that you were his guest now, more so when he suddenly smiled at you.

“Are yah hungry? Cos’ me Spaghetti Bolognese is the best thing yuh’ll have evah eaten.”

[beautifulweird0]

Forgiving Your Parents

I know too many people who’ve experienced some form of trauma from their parents. This isn’t a blog about bashing your folks- this is hopefully a post that will help salvage some strained parent and child relationships. Cause I been there, done that-and understanding your parent is only feasible if your parent is interested in understanding you. My disclaimer is this: The child isn’t responsible for mending the relationship...solely. I’mma tell you like this, if your parent doesn’t want anything to do with you...skip em’.     Because that’s backwards as hell and that takes away from loving yourself. Anyway you chop it, if you find yourself forcing yourself on a “parent”, the relationship isn’t going to go anywhere-AND THAT’S NOT YOUR FAULT OR CONCERN. YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL! YOU ARE EXTREMELY WORTHY. I’m so sorry your people ain’t solid; it’s a reflection of them-not you.

It’s my belief that something is wrong with a person if they want no parts of having a relationship with their child. Literally so messed up from their own unhealed traumas that they can’t find it within themselves to love someone they created… Ain’t no fixing on that unless you take they ass to a therapist.

Moving on.

I’ve always had such a strong feeling in my gut when I come across new people. It’s like they look at me and think I got it all. Truly looking at me and seeing a woman who doesn’t have insecurities or childhood traumas spotted along her path cause I’m kind and always make it a point to smile like Granny told me.      I’m usually a private person. But its always been that ‘pull’ on me-telling me… “It’s another little girl that is going through the same stuff you went through. Say that shit anyway. And with your chest.” . Think about it... Can’t a soul embarrass you about some stuff you open about. That takes all the fun out of their miserable lives if folks know wassup already.

    So as a 22 year old woman that been through some mess with her people, let me share pieces of me. Cause the last thing you want on your conscience is one of your parents passing and ya’ll not being on the best of terms.  I was listening to Mad Bitches the other day and Mikhala Jene said something along the lines of, “Nobody living is perfect”.

That hit me a little different. Like damn...nobody walks this earth perfect so...why do we expect perfection (again, subconsciously).

THIS.

   This is why I say if your parent is trying, then work with them. If they sit down with you and tell you how life was for them coming up. The good parts, the ugly parts, and everything in-between. Trying their best to be authentic and build a bond, then meet em’ halfway (if they haven’t been on some stuff that’s just unforgivable).

And shit, our people ain’t have everything at their fingertips as we do. The apps that spread information quicker than you could sneeze, weren't available. They couldn’t go on a ‘self-care’ page to calm themselves down if triggered or go on YouTube and watch motivational videos. Not making excuses, just using a little perspective that helps me! Yet and still, let your parent(s) know if they did something to wrong you; you gotta’ have respect for yourself as a human. Period.    I didn’t find out who my biological father was until I was about 16 years old. Up until that point I believed another man was my father (which he is still and will always be!). Sooo...I already had abandonment issues from my parents and my dad lived in a way at that time, that all parties involved thought it was best my grandparents took us in. That’s all I know is Granny’s (& Grandpa’s) house since I was a baby.     It helped that when my mom told me who my biological dad was, she was in a much better state of mind and stable-but man...I didn’t know what to feel. My sister was more upset than me (cause we have the same dad hypothetically).      So many questions ran through my head that I couldn’t even cry or be mad. I was shocked. Everyone played their role so well…

There was a long road ahead of me. Not only did I have to forgive my mom and dad for lying to me for so long, but there was a father in the same city I had yet to know.

My first point is patience. If you aren’t going to be patient with an end goal for you and your parent, you’re wasting your time. Being prepared for them to fumble sometimes is mandatory if y’all going to get to a better place. You mess up on certain projects or what have you’s a few times before you get it right...right? Give your parent the same energy if you were in their shoes. Cause baby...ain’t nothing worse than admitting your wrongs and still getting beat down. I couldn’t bring myself to be mad at my mom in that moment where she was vulnerable and upset cause she knew she played a part in hurting me. What was it gone do but make me feel bad and her feel worse?       Blowing up wasn’t going to change what happened now 22 years ago.Yeah, there’s hella’ books on parenting but I’mma tell y’all like my Granny told me, “There’s no such thing as a book on how to be a parent.”.

Having a child of my own- I’ve been witness to this. Folks can be shown and folks can be told on how to do certain things but with each child being different in this world, you have to be intune with them specifically- no book on that.I was through hell and back with my mother and now we’re in an extremely better place because we both made the effort (more-so on her part 🌚). But it was my responsibility to go into it with pure intentions and my guard down a bit after she made the effort; disappointment is what I expected sometimes cause I went into it knowing it was going to be a process.Don’t get it confused,  my mom always knew how I was-that wasn’t the issue. The new end goal was getting to know each other again so I could understand her better so I could forgive her. That’s no sucka’ shit. Its real. Everybody in this life is going to disappoint you, one way or another. Better to know what you’re dealing with so you can assess the situation in order to better assess the person. Free game.

Another step to keep in mind is, boundaries. I just feel like it will make the whole exchange smoother-not easier- but smoother. The point of forgiving your parents and (if you chose) trying to build a relationship, is to have them know you for who you are NOW. Not when you were 5, not when you was 12...have them meet you at your level. They dropped the ball, not you. Sure...nobody asked to be here but that becomes invalid when you start having babies of your own. It’s a different ball game when you bring a life into this world. Your joys become the joy of your children but way too often we forget that our pain becomes theirs as well.

My father always tried too-the dad that I always knew as my dad. On weekends me and my sister would go to his house before he moved to Michigan. Man I was a daddies girl-still am. My grandparents had the house on lock, couldn't watch programs with cussing in it or too much violence. Life of having Southern Baptist grandparents I guess.    The weekends at pops house was always interesting. I could watch all the music videos I wanted and watch the movies that didn't have too much goin on in them. My dad would do different stuff with us like go to the library; he always knew I loved reading. Sometimes my dad would take us to the park or a friends house who had kids (how I met my husband), water parks, or even cooking dinner with me and my sister; plenty of quality time where I could talk to him about anything. However, at the time, pops lived a certain lifestyle and no matter how hard he tried to shield it from us younger kids, I still seen things and experienced things a child shouldn't have. Again, comes with the lifestyle I guess. My dad drunk...ALOT. And it was interesting to see the 'upsides' of alchoholism and the very big downsides. I'd never forget, I was maybe 8? Another weekend at my dads, just me and my sister (I have multiple brothers on that side too plus another sister), and I woke up one morning on the couch. My dad was goin through some things- all he had was a couch that he let me and my little sister sleep on. My 1st thought when I woke up was where was my dad sleeping? My sister was sleep, and it was still fairly early in the morning. I go back to the empty bedroom to find him sleep on the floor. No pillow. No cover. Just a beer in hand, laid out. That broke my heart. Just remember feeling sad all over. I took the beer, threw it away then grabbed the pillow I had and laid it under his head. While doing so, my dad woke up, halfway and kissed my hand. He told me straight up he loves me and he apologized. Didn't go into detail but he didn't have to. My dad never had his pops in his life, nor his mama until he was grown and was taking care of her though her illness. I knew even at 8 years old that, that gotta hurt. I'm not gone sit here and act like I always understood the motives of my father but I tried because he always tried to understand me and til' this day, he is one of the top 3 people that KNOWS me like the back of his hand.

I had to forgive my parents because they’ve come a long way. Holding all that anger and resentment wasn’t gone help me in the long run. And in a way I can say I've helped to heal them by loving them through their screw ups. We always talk about a parents love but what about a child's love? I don’t want to pass down my pain to my son, he don’t need that- the world will give its fair share. But everyday I pray that the world won’t hurt him bad. I want my son to be nothing less than strong mentally, emotionally, but most of all spiritually. He won’t have that unless I’m solid. So I ask myself… ‘hm, what’s still hurting me?’.

We all got a story to tell.

Love. Peace. Manifest.

       ~Monet’