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qrosewinter · 3 months

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Toxic

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Description : Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3... To be continued.

Summery: Where a girl from New Zealand goes to brooklyn to live with her Auntie and Uncle, mets a brooklyn boy with secrets and a voice like honey with pretty hazel green eyes.

Where a brooklyn boy mets a girl from New Zealand with an accent he's never heard before, who he can't seem to forget.

And a Polynesian girl struggling to find who she is in the concrete jungle of NYC so far from home.

The start of the most unlikely relationship between two people starts to bloom, between a brooklyn boy who's just a little misunderstood.

Will this relationship bloom or stay untouched? Maybe we should let fate take the lead for this one.

Fic summary: slow burn, obvious to flirting, a little bit of angst, romance, revenge, anger.

WARNINGS ⚠️: Horrible attempts at slang, Horrible attempts at Spanish, Swearing, Weapons, Gore, Drugs, Alcohol, Mature themes, Spelling mistakes.

Chapter 2: Am I seeing shit again.

Are you hearing voices again? -Unknown

It's been about 3-4 days since I went to Visions and walked right into someone making a damn fool out of myself, but then again, what's new?

Not gonna lie it wasn't one of my best moments how awkward I felt I mean like, why in hells name did I say 'Have a good day' so god dammed awkwardly, why the fuck did I even say it at all!?

Could have said something like, "Well, sorry about that, but I gotta go, see ya. But not you had to go and say".

'Have a good day?', if I could punch myself so hard right now to make myself forget I ever said that I would, in a heartbeat.

But too bad you can't now can you :/

I'll be starting at Visions next week though, so I guess I have more chances to male myself out to be a fool, they did tell me during my little interview thing or whatever you wanna call it.

They didn't have any dormrooms ready for me at the moment.

so I won't be moving to the dorms anytime soon, which is fair.

I did so happen to start up at that school. What? A little past first term or semester, I think they call it here in America?

I don't know. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the education system here, and I still don't understand a damn thing.

But anyway, I won't be put in a dorm room yet until they find an either an empty one or someone without a roommate, which I don't think will happen anytime soon.

But the good news is I don't live very far from school. The bad news is I'd have to wake up earlier to get ready and be out the door before school starts, which sucks ass.

But beggers can't be choosers, so I'll take it, means I won't have to share a room with someone I don't know that's a plus, I guess.

Still don't know how I'll handle seeing that guy. It'll be awkward. That's for

《 ○ 》

"Y/N!" My Auntie lily yelled from the kitchen, and I snapped out of my thoughts and looked away from the little notebook I was writing in seated at my desk.

"Yeah?" I called back out to her as I leaned back in my desk chair, tilting my head towards the door and waiting for a response.

But when I didn't get one, I groaned, frustrated, and rolled my eyes.

I hated when people did that. Even when parents did that, call out your name to get your attention, but don't say a damn thing, so you gotta get up to see what they want.

Only to be asked to do the most simplistic things ever, like pass them the TV remote.

But it's right in front of them on the coffee table, or they don't even remember anymore and tell you never mind.

I got up grumbling to myself under my breath as I walked out of my bedroom.

in the simplest outfit of an oversized black hoodie with a small red and white mushroom on the front over my left breast and two bigger ones on the back, with the words 'Let's take a trip' and just some simple army green shorts that used to be pants before I cut them up into shorts.

My hair was pulled back messily into an attempt at a bun before I gave up and left it as is.

I walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, my bare feet barely making any sound on the carpet until I got to the kitchen.

And I leaned against the doorframe. "Yeah?" I said to my auntie, lazily raising an eyebrow at her with my hands stuffed into my hoodie pocket.

"Ah there you are, Me haere koe ki te toa maku ki te tiki i etahi mea maku, he rarangi takuKa taea e koe te haere ki te toa maku, ki te tiki etahi mea, he rarangi taku me etahi moni hei tiki." my Auntie said to me as she said to me as she picked up a list she had written out for me and held it out for me to take, along with a few bills to pay for everything on the list.

I groaned tipping my head back "ko te iwa i te po ka hiahia koe kia haere ahau ki te toa ko ahau anake" I said back to her as I dropped my head forward and took the list and money reluctantly.

"Yes, you'll be fine. Just take a knife and put it in your pocket." My Auntie huffed at me, waving my words off as she turned around to finish putting the dishes away.

I grumbled but didn't complain openly at least as I plucked a semi-sharp knife from the knife block and shoved it into my pocket as I turned and walked back to my room to get my jandels (Flip flops for the Americans :) )

I slipped them on, pulled my hood up over my messy hair shoved the list and money into my pocket along with putting my phone in my back pocket and taking just one earbud out of my JBL case and putting it in my ear.

Before I left the apartment, after going down some stairs out of the apartment building.

I tapped the side of my earbud about two times to skip through the songs I didn't want to listen too until I settled on 'Never enough by Six60' a classic song from a band back home.

"Still can't shake the feelin' in my bones, it won't leave me, it won't let me go," I sung under my breath to myself as I kept walking down the dark empty streets to the store about three blocks away.

It was dark besides a few lightposts lining the streets, some flickering others doing just fine. Brooklyn in the daytime was so different compared to the nighttime.

At night, it was dangerous. You had to keep your guard up, and I wasn't stupid. I knew crime ran wild at night in brooklyn.

I'd seen enough of it on TV, hearing people tall about it, and so on. It's the reason this city had a curfew, and why it kept getting early depending on just how bad it kept getting, and so far, it was getting worse before it's ever going to get better.

The once lively streets looked so much darker, like something out of a horror movie, not a sound besides the faint buzzing of streetlights.

feral cats digging through trash, the odd whisper of something in the alleyways and the sound of TV's playing from inside buildings.

But I wasn't completely dumb, I knew as quiet as it was, as empty as everything seemed around me.

I wasn't actually alone out here tonight, there was others out here, none with good intentions and anyone who did.

well, let's just say they wouldn't be there for long.

which is the reason my aunt made me take a knife with me for self-defense.

And what I knew I had to do was keep an eye out so I was, I kept an eye on my surroundings.

but made sure to make myself look relaxed and not all tense knowing that I'll just draw attention to myself if I did.

I glanced up and around me, though the streets were dangerous at night. I couldn't help but find them strangely beautiful too.

The way the stars just barely, peeked through the clouds in the sky under the pollution in the air, the way the street lights cast light on curtain parts of the streets and slowly left the others bathed in darkness.

The way the colours played off of everything around me was just in a strangely weird and beautiful. It's in its own dark twisted kinda way, of course, but still had a certain charm to it.

"There was a time when you would've given me everything that you own, The only thing you left me was alone.." I sung to myself under my breath as I kept my hands in my pocket.

my right hand gripping the handle of the knife loosely judt in case.

I sighed softly, sqinting my eyes as i looked in front of me.

I was tired from not sleeping properly the past few nights.

for some reason staying up until five in the morning then going to sleep, which yes I know is fucking stupid.

But I just couldn't get to sleep, for some stupid reason or another.

But still, I kept walking. I had just 2 more blocks to go before I hit the store to grab a few things, and then I could go home, collapse in bed, and die until tomorrow afternoon hopefully.

~I guess our time is up, I've given you too much, I just need to keep on movin', cause I still crave your touch, why won't you fade to dust?~

~so I can line you up, enough is never enough (ooh-ooh), enough is never enough(ooh-ooh), with every single does (oh-oh-oh), losin' all control (oh-oh-oh), never is never enough(ooh-ooh)~

( Miles's POV)

Meanwhile, with Miles....

~as I walk though the valley of the shadow of death, I take a look at myself and realize there's nothin' left, 'cause I've been blastin' and laughin' so long that, even my mama thinks that my mind is gone~

Miles hummed along to the music playing in his ears from his earbuds plugged into his phone shoved I his front pocket, as he he slipped on his jacket, a a dark purple nearing black in the low light of his Uncle's apartment.

Just another night as the prowler, and another night of getting his Mami the supplies she needed for the hospital she worked at.

so underfunded sometimes patients who needed their medicine who didn't get it in time, didn't make it.

~but I ain't never crossed a man who didn't deserve it, me be treated like a punk, you know that's unheard of, you better watch how ya talkin' and where ya walkin'~

Music was one of the ways Miles pumped himself up as he got ready to go out there with hi mask on, on the streets that he remembered used to be so beautiful before the corruption sunk its claws into his city and with it his Dad.

~or you and your homies might be lined in chalk, I really hate to trip but I gotta loc, as they croak, I see myself in pistol smoke, fool, I'm the kind of G that little homies wanna be like, on my knees in the night, sayin' prayers in the steertlights~

Miles clenched his jaw and shook his head, rolling his shoulders.

'Naw ain't got time to think like that, get your in the game Miles' he thought to himself as he finished suiting up, he took one look at himself in the reflection of the windows in his Uncle's living room and stood a little straighter.

~we've been spendin' most their lives livin' in a gangsta's paradise, we've been spendin' most their lives livin' in a gangsta's paradise, we've keep spendin' most our lives livin' in a gangsta's paradise, we've been spendin' most our lives livin' in a gangsta's paradise~

'I'm gonna make you proud Dad, swear it' Miles thought as he took his earbuds out and unplugged them from his phone the music of 'Gangsta's paradise by Coolio, L.V' spilling from his phone as his mask smoothly slid over his face.Lookingng back at Miles was the prowler in his reflection.

"Ay Neph time to ,go," Uncle Aaron called out from the door, and Miles nodded.

"On my way, Unc," Miles said to Aaron, his voice distorted by the voice changer in his mask as he made his way to the door.

Long since having paused his music as he put his gloves on with a Sharp click.

~look at the situation they got me facin', I can't live a normal life, i was raised by the stripes, so I gotta be down with the hood team, too much television watchin' got me chasin' dreams, I'm an educated fool with money on my mind, got a ten in my hand and a gleam in my eye~

Miles followed Aaron to the rooftop of the apartment, building his clawed hands clenching and unclenching as he walked.

"You remember the plan?" Aaron said, walking in front of miles looking through his phone at the time, before he tucked his phone back in his pocket

"Mm, I remember get the shit be in be out," Miles muttered to his uncle as they made it to the rooftop, and he looked over the buildings around them.

Some had fires going on top of them, others didn't, but you could see the gleam of neon lights of tall skyscraper buildings in the distance and people moving around under the glow of lights shining though there apartment windows.

~I'm a loc'd out gangsta, set trippin' banger, and my homies is down, so don't arouse my anger, fool, death ain't nothin' but a heartbeat away~

"Got yo earpiece?" Aaron asked Miles before he got ready to leave, handing Miles a black backpack.

"Yeah, it's in," Miles replied as he shrugged on the bag, Aaron handed him.

"Eyes sharp," Aaron said to Miles, nodding at him, standing back and tapping his earpiece in his own ear to turn it on.

"Mind steady," Miles said back with a nod before he was off using his grappling hook in hand to swing odd through the city under cover of the night towards the docs where a new shipment of medical supplies were waiting.

~I'm livin' my life do-or-die, uh, what can I say, I'm 23 now, but will I live to see 24?, with way things is goin', I don't know, tell me why are we so blind to see, the ones we hurt are you and me~

Miles weaved in and out of alleyways High above on the air, flipping through the air and rolling along the side of buildings to build momentum as he headed for the docs using his titanium claws to grip onto the ledges of buildings to throw himself forward.

~we've been spendin' most their lives livin' in a gangsta's paradise~

//////////

(Y/N's POV)

Seeing the store up ahead, I signed in relief.

"Thank fuck man" I grumbled under my breath as I pushed the door open and walked inside taking the list out of my pocket pocket I picked up a basket nearby from the door.

And started on my walk around the store for the items on the list my Auntie gave me.

"Dried chilli's, tortilla's, milk, bread and a juice" I mumbled under my breath reading over the list with a nod to myself as I repeated over and over in my head what was needed as I shoved the list in my pocket.

I walked around the store, throwing what was needed into the basket, and then, lastly, the juice.

I grunted softly, feeling how heavy the basket was now. The juice was in it.

"Damn," I muttered under my breath, gripping the handles of the basket just a little tighter as I walked towards checkout.

I paused, looking down at a shelf with some lollies on it- sorry, correction candies, my bad, I forgot I was in America.

I snorted softly to myself, amused as I picked up an interesting looking candies I'd never seen before or tired.

"Milk duds? Looks interesting, " I muttered to myself, and with a shurg, I dropped the box in the basket, a little treat for myself when I was walking home.

Making it to checkout, I set my basket on the counter.

"Hi, just these, please," I said politely to the casher, who looked like she'd rather be anywhere but here right now.

I shoved my hands in my hoodie pocket, standing there a little awkwardly as she checked them out for me.

'Mood, I feel you, my G', I thought to myself, glancing up at the girl at the counter, checking out my items for me.

She was actually really pretty, dark skinned with cornrows, and really pretty blue eyes that contrasted beautifully with her skin.

"That'll be $36.50, cash or card?" The girl spoke up a little drly, sounding tired, which is fair, so I didn't hold it against her.

"Cash, thank you," I said to her with a small smile as I counted out two $20's from the cash my Auntie gave to me and handed it to her.

"You wanna a bag?" She asked me as she counted out my change, which came to $3.50 as she handed it to me, and I took it, putting the change in my pocket.

"Yes, please," I said to her as she bagged up my items and handed me the bag.

"Thank you, have a good night," I said to her before I left, more in habit really from growing up in New Zealand, anytime.

"Mm," the girl muttered as she went back to playing on her phone, what she had been doing before I got to check out.

And I once more started on my walk home, glancing up at the sky every once in awhile hoping to see stars but only really managing to see planes or helicopters flying around

I frowned in disappointment before shrugging it off with a sigh.

With the bag of stuff in my left hand, I reached into my pocket with my right hand for my phone and used my fingerprint ID to open it.

I scrolled through my playlists, looking for a song to listen to as I walked, something I was in the mood for.

I scrolled for a bit as I walked every once in awhile looking up to make sure I didn't walk into anything, as I kept scrolling not finding a song I was interested in as I switched between another playlist had.

And when I thought I found a song, I heard the rustling of clothes, pained grunts, and low voices speaking coming up ahead from an alleyway.

I kept walking curiosity peeked, even in my tired state. i couldn't help but be nosey.

I shoved my phone back in my pocket, coming to a stop next to the alleyway, and I turned my head to look down it.

And there was a man being pinned to a wall, an arm against his throat making it hard to breathe for the overweight white man, a hand pinned to the wall by metal claws gleaming in the faint moonlight.

And the one holding the overweight man, he was interesting, to say the least.

Purple and black dominating his outfit, from the shoes to the accessories on his clothes, a mask over his face, like pixels on an old ass box TV, the kind before flat screen TVs, but not really as pixilated as yours think.

And two braids running down the back of his head that looked familiar stopping just past his shoulders.

They both seemed to pause after hearing my foot steps and turned to look at me.

But me being tired, overly exhausted, blinked at them lazily and confused, my brows frowned.

"Fuck I need to sleep more I'm starting to hallucinate again" I grumbled to myself my voice echoing a little down the alleyway as I started walking away rubbing at my eyes unimpressed at myself.

Just chalking what I saw up to my imagination fucking with me for not sleeping properly, honestly wouldn't be the first time, always had a shitty sleeping schedule.

Very few times I'd get the maximum eight hours of sleep, I'd either go to bed between 11pm to about 5am, cause I'm that stupid to stay up that late, only to be pissed off and tired the next day.

I shrugged and let my hand drop from my eyes.

I walked slightly hunched and legs feeling heavy, it felt like my legs were gonna give out on me, but well mama didn't raise no bitch, so we keep on going.

I didn't realise when I started daydreaming, or maybe i was dissociating again?, who knows.

But by the time I snapped out of it, I was home, standing in front of my apartment door, before I ever realized where I was.

"Mm," I mumbled to myself, paying it no mind as I opened the door and stepped inside, kicking off my jandels by the side of the door.

"I'm back," I called out as I walked into the kitchen and dropped the bag on the kitchen counter, digging through it for my milk duds I got.

Once I had the box in hand, I shoved it into my pocket and wondered off to my room.

"Any trouble well you were out, bub!" Lily called out from the living room.

"Nah, it was algoods, Auntie!" I called back out to her as I crawled into bed, flinching just a little when I felt something sharp poke my stomach.

Reaching into my hoodie pocket, I dumped out everything that was in it, from my phone, the change and extra cash I was given, my milk duds, and finally, the knife I forgot I had.

"Forgot about that," I mused to myself as I dumped the change and knife on my bedside table, picked up the box of chocolate covered lollies, and opened the box.I dumpedng a few in my hand before popping them on my mouth and chewing.

I scrunched my nose up at the taste. It wasn't the best candy I'd ever had or lollie for that matter, tasted too well fake to me, far too artificial then anything I'd ever tasted before.

So I dropped the box of sweets on my nightstand and picked up my water bottle. I always left on my bedside table and took a swing to wash out my mouth with a small grimace.

"Well that was disappointing" I muttered to myself setting my water bottle back down, as I picked up my phone and slid down more in my bed to get comfortable as I pulled the blankets up to my neck.

Turning it on, I went onto Tiktok and used the automatic scrolling feature, as well as plugged my phone in as I propped my phone up against the wall.

Watching the random videos that played as my eyes grew heavy.

Before sleep finally claimed me, and I was out like a light.

(MILES POV)

Miles had just gotten home after taking a bit of a detour after dropping off the supplies at his Mami's hospital.

He grunted as he kicked off his shoes, and dropped his jacket on the floor, taking off the black collar around his neck that held his mask and dropped it into a box he kept all his dad's all accessories and his own.

He stripped off the layers of his Prowler suit and replaced it with his own tank top and some sweats before putting on his purple durag that had little gold crowns on it over his braids.

He then picked up the pieces of his suit and dropped them into a box he took aw, y hidden in his closet.

He then dropped onto his bed with a si. Onene had taken behind his head as he picked up his phone to check for any messages from his mami.

He tapped on his Mami's contact after seeing an unread message from her.

'Gonna be working late again tonight, leftovers are in the microwave, Te amo duerme dormido ❤️'

Miles signed softly, another night shift. Made him glad he cleaned the house before heading over to his uncle's.

He pulled his hand out from behind his hand and started to type a message.

'Te amo Mami, no trabajes tan duro ❤️'

He hit send, plugged his phone in, and shifted to pull his blankets over himself as he rolled over to go to sleep.

'That girl again, huh shame I still ain't know her name,' Miles thought to himself amused.

Remembering how those sleepy tired eyes had looked at him tonight, or should he say the prowler.

How she had looked at the prowler had convinced herself what she'd seen was nothing but hallucinations cause she was so tired.

He was sure he'd see her again, and he knew just like the first time, and the second it'll just be as interesting as the first.

Then maybe, just maybe next time he'd know where she was from, know what that accent she had was.

Until then, he'd sleep. He had school tomorrow after all.

So he shut his eyes, got comfortable, and let himself relax enough to maybe, this time, sleep a full night.

And if not, well, he'd deal with it in the morning.

Hi! Sorry for the delay in this chapter, I'm gonna try and write at least two before I post another and work on a schedule to be able to post them.

I try and work on them when I'm not busy at home, and when I'm not busy at work, I'll let you guys know now. Until then, happy reading.

Translation:

Ka taea e koe te haere ki te toa maku, ki te tiki etahi mea, he rarangi taku me etahi moni hei tiki. = can you go to the shop for me, and get a few things, i have a list and some money to get them.

ko te iwa i te po ka hiahia koe kia haere ahau ki te toa ko ahau anake = it's nine at night and you want me to go to the store by myself

Te amo duerme dormido = I love you, sleep tight.

Te amo Mami, no trabajes tan duro = I love you Mommy, don't work too hard.

#Spotify #42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x you #miles g morales x reader #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x female reader #prowler miles #42 miles morales x reader #miles g x reader #miles x y/n

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alijwriting · 5 months

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Broken Britain

Here comes junky Johnny

He’s come to score

He’s brother said their mums a whore

He drives around a broke old van

He’s mother lives in a caravan

Their kids are wretched

He’s wife is blue

He’s eldest son is on the glue

He lost his job years ago

The drinking problem did ever grow

Two bottles of whiskey to pass the day

He’s poor old wife would always pay

It’s grim round here lass

You should make a move

Folks round here got things to prove

There’s gobby Debbie at 73

And her old man with the dodgy knee

The fight each night like cat and dog

The police come round on the dot

Come on you two call it a day

Some of us have bills to pay

The council house is damp and poor

Not a stitch of carpet on the floor

You wouldn’t choose it ..the life of despair

But it will get you if you don’t care

Learn your sums now

Go to school

So your be no bodies fool

It’s no good though

The genes are bad

You’re do nothing worthwhile with that lad

He’s fit for nothing

His parents poor

If you see him coming best bolt the door

He’ll steel your purse

Right out ya bag

And use your change to buy some fags

His sister sarah

Didn’t take the pill

She had a baby

But the babies illl

Or that’s what the neighbours thought

But the babies mum was up in court

Well try again sarah said

As she wearily laid on the bed

Her tummy rumbled her tears they flowed

How will her baby grow

Tomorrow’s another day

But to leave this place she’ll have to pray

Nothings good here ..days are hard

Maybe she’ll buy a scratch card

dream of money and feeling well

Instead of this god dam hell

Not a winner not this time

Oh well it’s another night of crime

When will it get better on this estate

Some bastards smashed her garden gate

No one gives a shit round here

She wishes she could disappear

She’s had enough now

She’s need a break

Get her out of here for fucks sake!

She never stood a chance

Poor sarah

She was brought up by a carer

Her mum left years before

Sarah heard her shut the door

In the cold and dark she stood

Alone and frightened but understood

Her mum had run to get away

She couldn’t do another day

The depravity it gets in the bones

And eats away in silent moans

If you do not leave this hell

That’ll be your life as well

Come on kids there’s gangs to run

At eleven you can have a gun

It’s easy money selling gear

It’ll make your problems disappear

It’s bad round here

Just like they said

Any aspirations put to bed

Get that bullshit out ya head

And get your arse upstairs to bed

There’s no hope for boys like you

For there’s fuck all to do

Wishing is pointless and dreaming’s mad

You’re always end up like your Dad

Ali J 💙 (copywriter)

#writing #poem #thoughts #poverty #it’s hard #broken #brokejnbritain

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wen-kexing-apologist · 11 months

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La Pluie Stray Thoughts

In the spirit of @bengiyo I will be stealing this format, mostly because I currently do not have time to do full analyses about hands and body language and trope subversions, but I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS SHOW RIGHT NOW.

Lomfon

So first of all shout out to my new best friend, Lomfon for having a level head and ensuring that Tien did not go running up the mountain and creating two people in need of rescuing. As an EMT, one of the first things you learn in training is that you need to make sure the scene is safe before you can treat a person in danger. If you dive in to the water to rescue someone drowning and you don't know how to swim, you now have two people drowning.

So cheers to Lomfon for being calm enough in this emergency to rein Tien back in. AND ALSO HELLO? CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE WAY LOMFON WAS GONNA RIDE OR DIE WITH TIEN IN THIS EPISODE??? Did Lomfon say "if you go up the mountain there will be more problems?" NO. NO HE DID NOT. He say "If you and I go up the mountain" he was not about to let Tien go anywhere alone.

And goodness me, I am so here for the juicy new reveal about Lomfon being able to hear both Patts and Tai. Great way to prove definitively that the soulmate connection is bullshit. (Either that or #throuple but it's not going that way, not with the way that Lom and Tien are heading).

Tien

Thank GOD we finally had a crack in the dam. This boy has been a ball of extremely well controlled energy for far far too long, and we have known it was bullshit from the beginning. I love this sibling dynamic so much. Tien loves Tai so much, he knows how fucked up Tai was about their parents divorcing and while we still don't really know if it messed with Tien or how badly the divorce messed with Tien, I love the confirmation and the way Lomfon got to see that there is far more depth to Tien than originally thought. I hope we get to see more of it, like most of the tumblr clowns, I think we might start shifting focus towards Lomfon and Tien's budding relationship as Lomfon, Patts, and Tai try to figure out their rain connection.

And I am *so* looking forward to seeing the comparisons between Tien and Lomfon's relationship to Patts and Tai's both in terms of knowing Lomfon is connected to Tien's brother, the limbo feeling Lomfon is starting to get stuck in, and the fact that the romance between Lomfon and Tien follows a much more natural progression/standard romance. They aren't in each other's heads, they would never know if they were meant for each other, and if something happens between them, Tien and Lomfon never have to see each other (or hear from each other again).

Also, I love the hug. Which hug? Both hugs. The way that Tien finally has support. Lomfon pulling him into him from behind and showing, telling, shouting at Tien that he is right there. And Tien relenting, turning and purposefully wrapping Lomfon in a hug. Like????? Also, the sibling relationship is written so well, Tai: "your lunch is over there because I don't care", Tien breaking down because he is so worried about Tai, then beating himself up because he didn't immediately think about the connection to the mountain, Tien hugging Tai so tightly and telling him to never do shit like that again, and then punching him in the leg. Superb.

Kung and Bow

They were holding hands in the tall grass when Patts came running back in asking about where Saengtai was, so I have unilaterally decided that means they fucked nasty. That's all.

Patts and Tai

Listen...listen....

LISTEN

I LOVE THEM. I love that they are being adults about this, that Tai wasn't jealous or angry, but just forced to confront his thoughts about what being a soulmate means. AND I LOVE THAT HE AND PATTS CONCLUDE TOGETHER THAT THEY LOVE EACH OTHER REGARDLESS OF WHETHER OR NOT THE SOULMATE THING IS REAL.

AND FURTHER, I LOVE THAT WE HAVE LOMFON BEING ABLE TO HEAR BOTH PATTS AND TAI LITERALLY IMMEDIATELY AFTER TAI AND PATTS HAVE DECIDED THAT WHETHER OR NOT THEY ARE SOULMATES DIDN'T MATTER. I like the possibility that Lomfon may try to drop that as evidence, like an ace in his back pocket, and Patts and Tai being like "that's fine,". No angst or agonizing from Patts and Tai anyway. Tai already hit his breaking point and he and Patts talked about it like adults. I love it, I love it, I love it, I love it, I love it, I love it.

I will probably go back and look at everything again, and analyze body language, and read too deeply in to every word of their conversation on the mountain, but for now my only thoughts are. I loved this episode, I loved this conversation, I loved the source of Tai's mountain journey, I loved Tien's break down, I loved Patts' patience, I loved their kisses, and where they are at the end of the day.

WE NEED TO BE GETTING LOUDER AND GAYER ABOUT LA PLUIE IMMEDIATELY

Edit: i have processed this episode and turned on my analysis brain so you can read my La Pluie Ep 8 meta here

#la pluie #EVERYONE WATCH THIS SHOW RIGHT NOW #la pluie the series #patts x tai #patts x saengtai #tien x lomfon #la pluie thoughts #I simply will not be normal about this show

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ima-ghost-art · 2 months

Text

Having some ideas for a "10 years later" valzhang kid fic (featuring trans leo & other fun hcs)

Where a couple years after Leo and Calypso split (early 20s at this point) Athena goes and works with leo in his shop for a few months before giving him a daughter, because she believes that he is one of the smartest minds of his generation (I just KNOW Athena heard all of Leo's plans through out Hoo when he would talk to himself around the Athena Parthenos, and was impressed with his (honestly incredibly smart) strategy to succeed at doing 2 things no human nor god had ever done, then succeeded with both plans all while remaking a metal dragon all in secret, plus Annabeth loves her friend alot so that's a bonus)

(This will be long so more after the cut)

So now, at like 23, Leo is the father of a beautiful baby girl named Sophina Esperanza Piper Valdez, and he loves it, he really does! Although he was terrified to ever be a parent, and this certainly wasnt how he planned to ever have kids, he loves his daughter more than anything and is determined to not have her experience anything he had too, and because shes a greek demigod he knows she will taken care of by the camp.

PLUS the seven ADORE Sophina!!

Piper loves her god daughter, and she and leo love to tell her all about Jason knowing he would have loved her so much too! Although it's weird in the beginning, Annabeth really loves and cares for her little sister, but much prefers to be seen as her aunt, (percy is definitely the cool uncle and loves to babysit Sophina along with looking after his own kids)! Hazel couldnt have been more excited to have a neice, just like leo she cant help but see so much of sammy Sophina!

And Frank? He adores Sophina too, he loves seeing Leo excel at being a dad, and he finds it hilarious at how devious this little girl is, how the combo of incredible building/ strategic mind from her godly heritage plus that insane intelligents from her father alone made the now 3 year old an adorable MENACE!!

No normal kiddie pen could ever keep this child contained! And frank would know, he offered to babysit more often than not, whenever he wasnt doing his praetor duties, he was looking after Sophina. And when he wasnt doing that he was often having her and leo over for dinner or lunch.

So much had changed since they where 15/16, living on a flying boat trying to save the world, it had been an entire decade even. And sure they were only mid 20s but that's practically middle age with a demigods track record. Leo and Frank went from hating eachothers guts to having a weird bond, formed of complete and utter trust in the other, while never quite getting rid of their petty bickering, tho this time on far more friendlier jokeing terms, (loving bullying piper called it) plus it helped they admired eachother and their abilities greatly. And now as they were both freshly single, welp dam it sometimes feelings just sorta surprise ya!

Frank and Hazel split the year before Sophina was created, both realising they had different ideas for their futures, and in the aftermath they became even closer friends, so when Frank started realising just how long he had been harbouring feelings for leo, well Hazel was the first one to say she both knew it, and to become his ultimate wing woman.

Leo, who has been single since 19, and hasnt thought about dating again properly since after having his daughter, suddenly having years old feelings from the argo2 reserface after frank starts helping him out more with his little girl, feeling like a percy out of water when he thinks about wanting to get back into dating again, especially when dating involves one of his best friends...

Buttttttt :) when you have the favour of both the godess of love and the godess of marriage and family on your side (abit reluctantly on your end) things end up going great!! Everyone was surprised it hadnt happened sooner and well, it's been going smooth for the last few months at least! Plus Sophina absoulutly loves having Frank around more!!

That is until 6 months later, 3 months before Sophinas 4th birthday, Frank is called away for a quest with his legion, which isnt uncommon, but it's the first one since the two became official, so Leo wont lie if hes a little bit more stressed than usual.

It doesnt help no one has heard from Frank and his quest group in over a week... nor the fact not either of the camps or even the hunters could find them... and definitely no the fact that Leo's cycle is late and has been throwing up for the last few days...

So when Annabeth comes over to help with a project while Percy takes care of Sophina for the day, the first thing she does is tell him to take a pregnancy test or have them call Will, even tho Leo is adamant its probably just a stomach bug.

Of course, 3 positive tests, 2 breakdowns in the arms of Annie, Piper and Hazel, and 1 check up from Will, Leo discovers hes around 6 weeks pregnant and the other father could only be Frank and he is still MIA!!!

Not only that, but Leo, after the war, becoming a double amputee, still grieving Jason with so much regret, and a now no longer single father of an amazing little girl, he was now facing becomg a father AGAIN only this time hes going to actually carry his own child, unlike the first time. Leo was trans, he always knew that if he ever in the place to have a child, he would have to carry them, and at the time he mostly only dated women anyway! But when Athena came along and gave him Sophina, well that was the perfect out to all that. Until now...

Leo doesn't know what to do, he cant make any decisions about the baby without Frank, and by now it's going on 2 weeks without any word. Hazel has been staying with him and Sophina when she hasnt been out doing search missions with Arion, the two have been sharing the stress.

Its week 2 and a half, 4 weeks from when the original quest started, when the questing group finally returns, found by Rayna and Hazel, mostly badly injured and being carried by Frank who had transformed himself into (all be it a very hurt) Elphant.

According to what they said the group had somehow fallen into some of the uncollapsed tunnels of the labyrinth which messed with people being able to find them.

But that doesnt matter, Frank is back and Leo is a flood of emotions because he just spent the last 3 weeks worrying if the guy he was inlove with was dead or dying, and the last week and a half thinking he was going to be a single dad AGAIN

But Frank, big dumb lovable Frank, is here, hes alive, and as he returns from the elephant to normal with the kindest most apologetic smile as he walks over to Leo before being directed to the med tent. He holds Leo close as he says hes sorry for disappearing over and over again.

So of course Leo, in all his blazing adhd glory, not exactly chooses, more word vomits the thing that he had been desperate to tell Frank since he first found out.

So in sitcom style dramatics the moment frank hears the words "I'm pregnant" from Leo's mouth he immediately passes out.

Que some shenanigans, but it ends with Frank being so excited, he already loved Leo, (not that either had said it out loud yet), he would be thrilled to have Sophina as his step daughter, and to to be an actual dad himself, for them to have a child and give Sophina a little sibling?? For them to be a weird chaotic family (oh gods they're going to be a family, they're going to need to find a bigger place to live all together, would Leo even want to move to New Rome? Wait would Leo want to even move in with HIM?? Panic for another time)

It becomes a hectic next 9 months, the Valdez - Zhang family has a new family home at the edge of New Rome, Sophina has never been more excited finding out she was going to be a big sister (being told the week before her 4th bday) (she had a party thrown by the Athena & Haphaestus kids at CHB) and happily helps her dads prepare. The 7 are thrilled for the new addition to their found family (my hc this would be the 4th kid from the group)

And finally they eventually wecome Ellie Jace Valdez - Zhang, Greek/Roman legacy of Haphaestus, Mars & Poseidon, future fighter extraordinar who eventually inherits the Zhang shapshifting, also inherited her fathers firewood

#this got so away from me im sorry #i needed some plot for how Valzhang had there daughter + leo and athena child too #and it got so chaotic #if anyones confused btw they leo is 26 - 27 and frank was 27 by the end of this #also Sophina is just a mini leo vs Ellie who ends up 6f sweetheart with the determination to mock her older sisters hight 24/7 #i have so many ideas for this “10 yrs later au” this was just the part that was currently on my mind #i hope it even made a little sence #if anyone wants to hear or see more i do wanna make a couple comics for this au #valzhang #leo valdez #frank zhang #kid fic #future au #kids au #hoo #Ellie Jace Valdez- Zhang #Sophina Esperanza Piper Valdez #leo and frank love their daughters very much #they also end up adopting and fostering many of the young wayward demigods and legacy kids that need some parental figures #they become the family Leo and Frank didnt grow up with

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thelittlestoflives · 7 months

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Maybe a part 1? Maybe a big load of nothing? All I know is I have JJK brainrot and I love these guys.

This is just a little drabble I did about the last interaction with Suguru.

Def not proofread, just vibes only!!!!!

_____________

“Hey, you.” Came a familiar voice. Suguru stood behind you, leaning against a wall with his arms folded. You stared at him like he was a ghost.

“Yep, it’s me, the criminal.” He smirked.

“Suguru, what have you done?” You hiss, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the crowd of people near you both. “Please, Sugu…”

He smiled sadly. “Something that should’ve been done a long time ago. You’re not going to try to convince me to stay, are you?”

“You’re not going to convince me to try and join you, are you?” You fired right back venomously.

He chuckled.

“As if anyone could convince you to do anything.” He looked at you fondly.

“Don’t do that.” You mutter, looking down.

“Don’t do what?”

“Act like everything is fine. Like we’re friends.”

“Aren’t we?”

“Sugu… Your parents.”

“A necessary evil.”

“Evil, yeah. Necessary? Never.”

‘You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me.” You snapped, throwing your hands in the air with exasperation. “Seriously. Explain it to me! I beg you. I beg you. I need to know why one of my best friends did this. How someone so kind, someone I love so much could do this.”

He looked at you, a sad smile plastered on his face. Somehow, his eyes looked brighter than they had in months.

You grab his hands, a look of surprise flashing across his features. You held them within your own, a lump in your throat.

“Please. Please. It isn’t too late. You can still come back. You can be with me and Satoru and Shoko. We once said we’d follow each other anywhere. I can’t if you choose this. Please don’t go somewhere we- I can’t follow.” The dam broke, and tears streamed down your cheeks.

His face was hard and unreadable.

“Y/N…”

“Please.” You choke out, desperation clawing up your throat.

He sighed.

“Look, I know my decision must seem unthinkable to you. But this is something that needs to be done. Aren’t you tired of this? Being a cog in the machine, being used to get rid of something that humans create? Forced to clean up the problems of others? We can stop this. We can end it.”

“You’re playing god. It isn’t right.”

“Isn’t it?” He snapped. “You of all people should know how shit my technique is. How much I suffer every time. And you think that’s right?”

“That’s not what I said I-”

“It doesn’t matter,” he hissed.

“No! That’s not what I was going-”

“It’s easy for you and Satoru. You have no idea what it’s like.”

You felt like he slapped you.

“Excuse me? I have ‘no idea’?” You laugh bitterly. “Give me a fucking break. Do you think I would’ve chosen this life? Do you think that I enjoy the fact our peers die around us all the time? That most of us won’t make it to 40? That I have to deal with the most horrific cases, the most evil cursed spirits? That I have to leave everyone in the non-sorcerer world behind? You’re joking.”

He sighed again and rubbed his temples.

“If you truly understood, then you’d come with me.”

You scoffed. “Wonderful. So my two options are either to stay a sorcerer and watch everyone I love die around me or commit mass genocide? That’s just great. Just great.” You felt almost hysterical with emotion. You wanted so badly to turn the clock, to pinpoint the moment everything fell apart. To prevent this. But was there any way to prevent this?

“Y/N…” Suguru said. “I’m sorry, this is the only way.”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t think it is. But I think you’ve made your mind up, haven’t you?”

He simply looked at you with unreadable eyes.

“Will I… Will I ever see you again?” You whisper, hating how timid and meek you sound.

“Maybe one day.” He said wistfully, watching the crowds of people walk past you both.

A sob wracked out of your chest.

“Can I hug you? One last time?” You choke, barely giving him time to answer before stepping forward and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“You’re my best friend. I’m glad… I’m glad that we found each other, even though it was brief.” You murmur into his chest. You feel him stiffen but hug you back regardless.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” he whispers.

“You bastard!” Satoru’s voice called down the street. “And you, Y/N? You’re going with him?”

You step back, sniffing slightly, shaking your head. You glance at Suguru, before walking over to Satoru. He was enraged. You’d never seen him like that. He trembled as he scanned your tear-stained face while you approached him.

“Did he hurt you?” He whispered hoarsely.

“Not physically anyway.” You stood beside him, arms almost touching as you stared at the boy who had betrayed you both.

Satoru yelled. He yelled and yelled at Suguru, who simply watched him with a sort of amusement.

Suguru walked away, and Satoru held up his hands to curse him, then dropped them. He stared after the spot Suguru had been standing. You cried silently beside him.

“Let’s go, Y/N,” he said softly.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk satoru #gojo x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #jjk season 2 #idk what im doing #let me know what you think if you want #suguru x reader #satoru x reader #hidden inventory arc #hidden inventory x reader #jjk fanfiction #jjk drabble

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darkthingshappen · 1 year

Text

Reckoning (Merry Whump of May Day 1)

A Brother's Keeper Story Set about seven month's after Ben's initial rescue after fourteen months of captivity with Volkov.

Thanks to my always whumperful crew @whumpcereal @sparrowsage @quietly-by-myself, and @oddsconvert for the flash beta job this afternoon.

Tags list at the end.

Warnings: BRIEF mentions of past torture, captivity, and noncon. Though nothing too explicit. PTSD. Ben just has a moment where he's tired of being told it's okay and unfortunately, Jake gets the full brunt of it. Ben's not wrong, but Jake... well... you'll see.

@themerrywhumpofmay (I'm so excited this is back this year!)

The kitchen was brightly lit, it was Fall again. Ben and Jake were doing the dishes. They were nearing the second anniversary of Ben’s abduction, but it felt like the first since he’d spent the previous one still with Volkov. Jake was dreading it. Everyone was dreading it. Ben was jumpy and distant, caught up in far too many dark memories.

Still, he had made so much progress, especially in the last month or so. He was smiling more, Jake had even seen him laugh once, with Zoe. Ben was slowly coming out of his shell after a brief stint in a mental hospital and months and months of intensive therapy. Ben stared blankly out the window. He never seemed to be able to get enough of looking outside.

Jake slapped him playfully on the arm with his wet washcloth as he’d done a million times throughout their childhood.

He shouldn’t have done that. The loud smacking sound of the cloth on Ben’s arm sent him to the floor, arms over his head, curled in a ball and rocking.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Ben whimpered.

Jake glanced around the kitchen in panic. He was alone with Ben. Their parents were out, his dad at work and their mom grocery shopping. They were counting on him to take care of Ben. He’d told them he could do it. He was eight years Ben’s senior for god’s sake. Think! He could do this. He could handle it. Couldn’t he?

“Shit! Benny. It’s okay. Sorry. That was stupid of me. I was just playing like we used to. I didn’t think... Shit I’m sorry. Please Benny. Please,” Jake begged, trying to recall what the therapist had said about how to bring Ben out of these horrible flashbacks.

Jake got up and ran to the living room. He grabbed the heated and weighted blanket they’d got Ben recently. They left it on most of the time for emergencies like this. Jake draped the warm blanket over Ben and held Ben’s hand, rubbing soft circles on the back of it with his thumb.

“It’s okay, Ben. Don’t worry. It’s okay,” Jake assured him for the millionth time since Ben had come home and had one of his prolific flashbacks that, at best made him freeze dead still and zone out, and at worst made him panic and react as if he were in the moment that he was seeing in his head.

“It’s not fucking okay!” Ben snapped suddenly, throwing the blanket off and getting to his feet. “Stop fucking telling me that! You don’t know a damn thing about it, do you?” He glared at his brother. “You. Weren’t. There!”

Jake recoiled, taken aback by the sudden and uncharacteristic anger and volume. Ben was always quiet now, rarely talking and when he did it was barely above a whisper. Jake attributed it to months of wearing a fucking shock collar. He stared at Ben in disbelief. He knew he deserved his brother’s anger. Whatever Ben wanted to say, he deserved it. He deserved to be reviled by the shell of a brother in front of him. He wished to God he could fix it; could make his baby brother whole.

“He didn’t take you, did he? He didn’t fucking torture you on daily basis, did he? He didn’t ra-” Ben’s voice, dripping with rage, cut off and he was left standing, heaving in breaths of air. His whole body trembled and Jake saw the dam of emotions and torment and memories that threatened to overwhelm his baby brother.

They both knew what he was about to say.

“It’s not okay,” Ben finally finished, more quietly than before.

“I-I know, Benny. I’m not meaning to make light. I know what he did to you.-”

“No. No you fucking don’t. Seeing my scars or reading that damn file that they gave mom and dad doesn’t mean you know. It doesn’t. It doesn’t. There’s so much more than what they could fit in my fucking file.” Ben made air quotes over the last word.

“I spent almost every night curled up in a cage. A fucking cage, Jake. No blanket. No pillow, no mattress. Just a hard plastic or metal bottom of a cage. And it was cold. All the time. I asked for a blanket one time. Do you know what he did to me?”

Jake’s expression reflected the horror of what Ben was telling him. It was the most Ben had directly said about what happened to him when he was with Volkov and Jake felt ashamed to want him to stop talking. He shook his head minutely.

“He tied me to a fucking cross outside. Outside in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. Outside in the fucking Russian winter. I thought I was gonna die. Over and over and over I thought I was going to die. Until it shifted from being afraid of dying to…” Ben’s voice dropped to a whisper. “To hoping for it.” He looked at Jake. “I don’t know who I am anymore because of what he did to me. Do you know what it’s like to hurt so bad, in every part of you, that you just want it to be over. Permanently. Do you?”

A tear slipped down Jake’s cheek and he shook his head, “N-no. No, Benny, I don’t. I’m… I’m sorry. I wish I knew what to do. I wish I knew how to take it away. God! Fuck! Benny I wish it were me. You have no idea how badly I wish it had been me. It should have been me.”

And for once, Ben didn’t disagree. He just stood there watching his brother crumble. He had always said, believed, told himself, that he wouldn’t wish what happened to him on his worst enemy. But he was so angry, and so terrified, and so overwhelmed with all that he had been through, that a furious mean little voice that he never used to have reared its ugly head and screamed inside him, ‘I wish it had been you!’

Ben clamps his lips shut before he can utter the hurtful words, but he knew it was too late, he may not have said them, but Jake heard them loud and clear all the same. Ben sighed.

“I… I need to… I need a break, Jake. I-I-I don’t blame you. I don’t.” He said the words, but he was no longer sure if he believed them. “But I can’t do this right now.”

Ben turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Jake standing in the middle of the room, holding a warm blanket that offered him no comfort.

Tagging List: @i-can-even-burn-salad @peachy-panic @deluxewhump @arwenadreamer @whumpcereal @melancholy-in-the-morning @dont-touch-my-soup @whumpsday @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @oddsconvert @melennui @susiequaz12 @morning-star-whump @crystalquartzwhump @whump-and-other-things @mylifeisonthebookshelf @reflected-pain @hold-him-down @quietshae @quietly-by-myself @there-will-always-be-bloodblood @whumping-seven-days-a-week @hiding-in-the-shadows (I hope I’m not forgetting anyone - please let me know if I am and I’ll fix it. I’m still getting used to this)

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carmillatism · 10 months

Text

since ao3 is down: carmilla fic @drcarmillaappreciationweek

Sometimes A Mom Is Just A Goth Vampire Lesbian From Outer Space And That's Okay

For Dr. Carmilla Appreciation Week: Mom Monday

trigger warnings for implied/referenced child abuse and neglect, implied/referenced parental abuse, and light self-hatred

note: i will be posting this (and other fanfics for this week) on ao3 once it is up and working again. just don't want to wait any longer for this fic. first time posting a fic on tumblr as well, just so it's known.

fic under the cut

"So, how was your mother?"

"Oh, starting with the hard-hitting questions, huh?" She crosses her legs, then uncrosses them. She scooches around on the chair before giving up. She stares.

"I mean there's no other way to start it, is there? You didn't give me much to work with, so…" Carmilla narrows her eyes.

"Watch it. Just because you're giving me therapy, doesn't mean you get to be disrespectful." She tries to add a hint of humor to her voice because she knows she doesn't mean it. Really. …Well, she kind of does. It's weird. That's why she's in therapy.

She sighs before leaning back in her chair, folding into herself. "Well, I guess she was fine. She wasn't as bad as my father; that's for sure."

"I'm not going to ask you about your father as we aren't here for that, don't worry, but you said 'not as bad'. What does that mean?"

She sighs, frowning slightly. She really was going to divulge this information to a stranger then. "She wasn't actively bad, really. She just allowed so many things to pass. She never really tried to stop anyone from doing anything. She was so passive, so easily used by people who just wanted to hurt her- her kids- me. She wasn't good in that way."

"And that passive response can be just as bad as the people who actively hurt you." She cringes at that.

"I wouldn't say that…"

"Oh, okay. How come?"

She pauses, thinking about the question. Well, she did help her sometimes. …Sometimes. "She… um, well, she helped me on occasion. She taught me how to take care of myself, make food. She sometimes helped me with my studies."

"So, the bare minimum?" The question is innocent and she knows they're trying to help, but that statement snaps something in her. The very fragile dam of emotions she built about that topic crumbles. It was never that strong anyways.

She always knew what her mother did wasn't the best. That was why she was here for the Gods' sake. But she hadn't ever thought about it in that way. Her mom had barely done the bare minimum and yet she still praised her so much… She did the bare minimum and much worse so often that Carmilla just felt like she had to praise her just for doing something… kind, that she should do. She praised her for doing what all mothers should do for their children.

She couldn't stop it. She felt tears beginning to swell in her eyes. A few started to leak out. She grabbed a few tissues from the tissue box laying on the table next to her.

"I never really thought about it in that way, but… yes. If that. She did the bare minimum sometimes, and other times- most times- she didn't. She just let me get hurt and let my father hurt me with not a care in the world. And she never really apologized, more so made it about herself than anything else. She didn't focus on me that much, and if she did, it was because I messed up somehow."

Her therapist looks down at their paper before scribbling on a pad resting in their lap. Tears are streaming down her face, but she's surprisingly calm. It was almost relieving to get this out.

"And this… you mentioned that you wanted to talk about being a mom…?" Her head perks up at that and she stares at them for a moment. Did she write that down…? Oh. Right. Curse her past, emotionally volatile self.

"Oh, I guess. It's just I was wondering about how I am as a mother. I try to help a lot; I do. But sometimes it just doesn't come out right. I feel like I make situations worse when I try to help." She cringes and looks down at her hands folded in her lap.

"And what do you do to help them?"

She thinks for a second. There was a lot, she thought. Maybe… too much? She should probably mention the things she did that usually made her Mechanisms worse, though.

"Well, a lot of times I would think their mechanisms were acting up and making them feel bad, so I'd take them to the lab and get them the help they needed."

Her therapist frowns, writing something down on their paper. She closes her eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply. This is a safe space for her to talk about herself. She won't be judged. …But even so, she couldn't stop herself from judging her own words that came from out of her mouth.

Her therapist looks down at their clipboard, tapping their pen against it, thinking. "And what did you do to help?"

She frowns, thinks. Was it really helping? Did she actually help them? Or was what she did something that only made them worse? "I would usually perform surgery on them…" Her therapist seems to have to hold back a reaction. "I'd get to the root of the problem, their mechanism, and make sure it was all up to date and working well."

Her therapist hums thoughtfully, and she stiffens before relaxing. Her therapist leans a bit forward, chin in hand. "And were their… mechanisms really the problem?"

She stops at that. Were they? She had always thought that it had to have been something with the mechanisms that were making them feel bad. They usually worked just fine, but they were still experimental tech that hadn't been used before. She just always assumed that it had to be that. The mechanisms are the clear reason, so what else could it be?

"I mean, yeah." She stops. Well, actually, a lot of times when she'd knock them out, get into their mechanism, they would be just fine, running smoothly. So if it wasn't the mechanism then what was it?

The therapist takes her silence as a cue to add, "Did there seem to be a common throughline for why they needed help? What signs were there?

"Well… they seemed okay at first. Usually right after they were mechanized there was understandable fear and confusion, but they'd soon come to find a routine. They grew comfortable on the ship. I'd take them in to check on them, their mechanisms. I think it was only after that they seemed to get worse. Did I scare them about their mechanisms too much? Did I make them worried? They always seemed so scared and worried, sometimes defensive."

Her therapist just continued to look at her, a sad look on their face. Did she say something wrong? No. No. The therapist wouldn't judge her for that. She was just judging herself too harshly.

"I mean they would usually be fine before I took them back. I'd watch them from the other room, and they would seem fine. They would talk, play games and music, and destroy stuff sometimes." She thinks fondly about those memories before continuing. "And then when I would walk into the room with the news that I needed to double check their mechanism, that's when they would get scared. They'd always back away, beg me not to take them back. I can't believe I scared them so much about their own mechanisms." She looks up to the therapist to see if they have anything to add. They just stare at her before motioning for her to continue. She does. "But… well, even when I didn't bring up surgeries, treatment, or their mechanisms, they would get scared like that often. Almost all the time. It was always when…"

Her hand flies to her mouth before she can utter the next part. A noise between a strangled yell and a cry parts her lips and she instinctively pushes her hand harder against her mouth to stop it from getting out.

Her therapist smiles sadly, nodding just slightly.

She… was the problem. They were always scared when she walked in. They were always fine right before. They always got scared when she entered. They were scared of… her.

That… she can't believe she could do something like that, make her own kids so scared of her. That was… insane. She thinks morbidly to herself that it's almost as insane as making people immortal. It was insane just as much as it was true. Her therapist had only confirmed it.

"How could I… How did I never realize?"

Her therapist looks at her hard for a moment, and she thinks she can truly see them for the first time. She's actually focused on who they are. They're a real, living person that she's just spilt her guts to. "People can get stuck in their own head sometimes. They think what they're doing is the right thing because that's all they've ever known." Tissues barely made a dent in the tears streaming down her face. They were silent, however. Acceptance could hurt just as much as any pain. "You can think you're doing the right thing, but the right thing for one person can be the wrong thing for another. Kind of like the opposite version of 'one's man treasure can be another man's trash'."

So that's why they always seemed so scared. It was her. They were scared of her. She thought she was helping them with those surgeries, with mechanizing them in the first place, but she wasn't… She had never even thought she could be the problem.

"How could I be so bad…?" Her body was a coiled wire. A coiled wire, ready to be let go and lash out at anything and everything. But, well, not anything nor everything. She just wanted to lash out at herself.

How could she fix this? This wasn't something you fixed with a handsaw, anesthetic, and some morphine.

"It's hard. It's hard to know what you're doing, especially when you never had a good example to begin with." Oh. Oh that- That makes sense. "What you did was bad-" She cringes at that but nods. It was. "-but bad things happen and people do those bad things. But that doesn't always make them bad people. Even if they were once bad, they don't have to stay that way. It's not up to you to decide if they forgive you, but you can, either way, decide to be a better person." Oh. That was nice. She… She could be better. She had all of eternity to make things better. She could do that. She could, at least, make things better than they once were. That was a promise.

"I… Thank you. Thank you very much."

Her therapist nods. "Of course. It will take time, but you can become better. You can do it for them. Just… give them time and space right now. Rushing into it will just make things worse. And… don't be scared to reach out to help on how to become better. People are working every day to better themselves. I'm sure there's many people who would respect your endeavors and could provide advice. People do fucked up things, but that doesn't have to mean they're fucked up people."

That was… Maybe she understood why people went to therapy.

Her tears had stopped rolling, thankfully having stopped before she got to the end of the tissue box. She was… glad she went here. It was a lot to hear that she hadn't been as good a mother as she had thought she tried to be, but it was nice to have confirmation that she could get better. She could do better. So much better. She could be a better mom.

She smiles and nods at her therapist and they smile back.

And… since the session was coming to a close, she could ask the therapist a question. Maybe for a little more comfort. Mostly just because she was interested. Damn that cat curiosity killed.

"Do you think the mechanisms see me as their mom?"

The therapist thinks for a second. Yeah. From what I know, I would say so." They stop, then, contemplating something. "I don't think of you as my mom, though." Oh, WHAT? Come the fuck on.

She frowns before arching a brow at that, staring him down. "...Marius, now, why would you say that?"

Marius shifts in his seat uncomfortable, clipboard still in hand, but he has stopped tapping his hand. Carmilla laughs to herself and thinks they're more weary of the gun they have on their hip, now.

"Well, I mean, you just really didn't make me like the rest, you know? You didn't make Tim, Raph or me." Marius looks at her and Carmilla looks anywhere but him, just to rile him up some more.

She looks to her left then right before pursing her lips at him, looking slightly disappointed. Marius sighs and runs a hand through his hair. They seem to want to throw their hands up in the air, before thinking better of it.

"Doc, come on. You're more like a family friend than anyone else. You're like someone who pops in sometimes to see what's going on." Carmilla feigns anger at that, and Marius sighs even deeper this time, resting their head against their hand.

"Oh, so I'm just a family friend, am I? I make almost all of you, and I'm just a family friend. I see how it is, Marius." She hangs her head downcast and sniffles a bit for emphasis.

Marius closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in deep thought. They open their eyes again, and level a stare at Carmilla. "Carmilla, it's just that Raph was more the one that made me and I still don't know you that well. Like, the others are definitely your kids, but I'm- we're- just not." Carmilla notices that whilst exasperated, he doesn't seem to be stressed, moreso playing along with her. But either way, it is nice to hear where the two of them stood in reference to her. She still didn't know the two that well.

"That's docteur to you, Marius." Marius gives an exasperated sound before finally throwing his hands in the air, clipboard flying to the floor. "And, I mean, would you consider Raphaella your mom?"

"What? No!" Marius' face has turned into a grimace. He looks somewhat sick.

Carmilla hides a smile, trying to keep the conversation as serious as possible. She arches a suspicious eyebrow. "Well, then, being made by someone obviously doesn't make them your mom."

"Well-" She cuts them off.

"So me creating you obviously doesn't matter here. I think it should be more about the fact that I take care of all of you and make sure your mechanisms are working just fine. Plus, I cook for you and help you when you're feeling down. And! I do that all in a motherly way." Carmilla looks proud of herself. Marius looks… confused. "So why are you so hesitant to call me mom when it's clear that's what I am to you?" She was actually a bit curious at the answer.

"Hey! This was supposed to be a therapy session for you, not me! Also, wouldn't this break some type of rule in therapy if I was treating my mom since you 'are' my mom?" He's really against calling her his mom. Interesting. Either way, Carmilla isn't worried. She'll make them see she's their mom soon.

"You're not an actual therapist, Marius. If you were, you wouldn't be giving out therapy on a ship in the middle of nowhere. You'd have a license and some of your therapy sessions wouldn't include se-"

"Hey! Low blow! You don't always need a license from some big industry to be able to do something." He's red in the face but laughing good-naturedly, and Carmilla allows herself a giggle.

"You quite literally need a license to be a therapist, Marius." Marius rolls their eyes at that.

"Oh, well, I guess that means you aren't a doctor anymore because your license surely has been taken away after breaking the hippocratic oath so many times."

Carmilla's mouth drops open and she has to stop herself from blurting out a laugh. Yeah, she could get used to this Marius kid.

"Oh, Marius, you're grounded for like 3 years now."

Now it's time for Marius' jaw to drop. He stares at her, bug eyed. "You literally can't do that! You're not my mom!"

"You may not see me as your mom, Marius, but that doesn't make me any less a mom in general, so I can most definitely ground you."

"How can you even ground me on a ship, light-years away from any planet?" Marius actually looks somewhat worried.

She thinks on that for a second and then says, "You're going to be stuck in your room for 3 years, then."

"TIM!"

Dr. Carmilla glares at Marius, tapping her foot against the floor. Of course Marius has to try and use someone else to support his bullshit claim. Can't back it up on his own. She hears Tim running towards them and rolls her eyes when she sees Tim pop his head in through the door frame.

"Uh, what's up?" She asks, before looking between Dr. Carmilla sitting in an armchair and Marius holding a clipboard, glasses on his forehead, and wearing clothes that seem more business casual than his normal outfit. This was some type of therapy session then. Tim looks behind him before looking back in the room, furrowing his brows and squinting slightly. "...If you're having a therapy session, I can just… leave…" She starts backing up, seeming to not want any part in whatever Carmilla and Marius were doing.

Marius holds up a hand out to stop Tim. "No, no, nope. The therapy session is over and I need to ask you a question." Carmila sighs, looking between Tim and Marius. Marius always had to cause a scene (which was another reason why they were her kid).

Tim comes back to the door frame, but steps a bit back and out of the way, apparently scared of what he's about to be asked. Marius would either want her to come practice some type of fucked up form of therapy, or pretend he was a Baron. Which Marius really seemed to think he was even though it was obvious to Tim that Marius didn't even know where Britain was in the first place. And Carmilla, she would probably just stare at her eyes. For a long time. A long long time.

"Uh, ask away, then-"

Marius barely allows Tim to get their sentence out before asking, "Would you say Dr. Carmilla is my mom?"

Whatever she was expecting, that was not it. Why are they wondering about the schematics of moms…? Why couldn't they just be normal and murder people? Why talk when you can… oh, she doesn't know, explode a couple planets.

"Tim." Her head snaps to Marius and her goggles zoom in on their face. He looks… serious? Well, as serious as Marius could be.

"I mean I don't really know how to answer that-"

"Tim, just answer their question so this conversation can end." Carmilla just stares at him, tired.

"Uh, well, probably not, then." Carmilla exclaims and Tim cuts her off before she can say anything. "I mean! You didn't really make him nor have you been around him for that long, so…" Tim stops, thinking for a moment, tapping their chin for added effect. "I guess you're more like a stepmother."

"A STEPMOTHER?" Carmilla yells and Tim shrugs. Marius is laughing, doubled over.

"You know, she has a point, Doc." Marius says through tears of laughter.

"A POINT? I'LL SHOW YOU A POINT, MARIUS VON RAUM-"

"HEY. CAN YOU GUYS SHUT IT? SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO GET AN OLD-ASS TV THEY LOOTED TO WORK PROPERLY." Jonny's muffled yells can be heard from the common rooms.

They all shut up, looking between each other, barely keeping back laughs. And then they're all in hysterics: cackling, sobbing, hiccupping, rolling over themselves as they try to gain any semblance of control over their bodies. But they just can't stop, the absurdity of the conversation– the situation– making them lose it.

And Carmilla, there, in that moment, as she's shaking from laughing so hard, realizes something. Maybe Mom was less about the title, itself, and more about the experience the word describes.

#dr. carmilla appreciation week #dr. carmilla #the mechanisms #marius von raum #gunpowder tim #mom monday #fanfic #writing #short story #tw implied child abuse #tw implied child neglect #tw parental abuse #tw self-hatred #therapy session fic #jonny d'ville

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filthforfriends · 1 year

Text

Chapter 9

Alpha!Damiano x Omega!Reader

Yes twice in a week<3

The sound of three seatbelts being undone rouses you before Dami has the chance. The first thing you do is check if your scarf has stayed in place. It had. Damiano’s over reaction might have been a dead giveaway, so the whole charade could be pointless. It’s not your peers' judgment that worries you. Most of the alpha-omega population was marked for the first time in high school or secondary education. However, the judgmental stares of nosy parents as you pick your way to your seats was slightly unnerving.

You sat five rows back from where the coaches stood, greeting all of them. How one smile was supposed to smooth over yesterday was beyond you until you saw Dami’s smile. Waving cheerfully, you do your best to emulate everyone’s disposition.

“You gonna be okay for a minute?” Dami asks, plopping the three blankets you settled on down.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead.” He nimbly jumps down the bleachers and vaults over the railing onto the sidelines. Although Damiano is out of sight, you can hear when the team sees him from their cheers. The whole amphitheater is loud, especially some screeching coming from the unofficial omega section. Turning to see who’s making all the god damn noise, you realize it's Emmaline trying to get your attention.

“Oh, hi!” you wave. Her and Athena aggressively beckon you over, a request which you only heed to stop bringing attention to yourself.

“Starting early are we?” They burst into giggles as you seat yourself in the middle. Really, you should have been smarter, because a tipsy Emmaline starts pulling down your scarf. You smack her hand away.

“For fuck’s sake,” you hiss, giving her a scorching, dirty look.

“Sorry, sorry,” she chortles, throwing her hands up like a robber. “I don’t know why you’d want to hide it. Damiano’s gorgeous.” A raging flare of jealousy is your first indicator that the mark is taking effect. Dami’s beauty was an objective fact and Emmaline was mated to Lars.

“I just don’t want to announce it to everyone all at once. My family doesn’t even know.”

“Then why the hell risk coming here??”

“Em, you know what happened yesterday,” Athena whisper yells. She bends over so she’s not audible to other attendees.

“But he can’t even play! What’s the fucking point of dragging her out here at the ass crack of dawn on a Saturday?”

“I honestly don’t know either,” you pipe up. Emmaline may have been rude, but she alway said exactly what she meant. A whistle indicates the start of the game, and you all take a moment to cheer Romero on. Manchu Sport ran onto the field, from the opposite side, in some offensively neon green uniforms. As soon as her attention isn’t on the field, Athena glances back and forth between the two of you incredulously.

“Because someone started a rumor that she found him! And that, y’know…it wasn’t just a normal fight. Does Lars not tell you anything?”

“I did find him,” you respond. For the first time in possibly their entire lives, Athena and Em are speechless. Someone on the coaching staff or in the collegiate sports office had treated Dami’s full blown health crisis like a fictional tabloid anecdote. It made you murderous.

“He’s not actually dangerous if you don’t threaten him,” you justify.

“Uh, well not to you because you’re marked,” Athena challenged.

“He marked me after.” Em and Athena are shocked, and maybe even a little impressed. If they had actually seen Dami in an episode, like his team mates, they’d know he wasn’t a violent monster. This fact was evidenced by Romero Soccor’s warm greeting. Of course, it only takes one little lying shit whose inadequacy complex is triggered by Damiano.

“Wait, where are you getting your information? This is supposed to be private.” Athena looks at you with pity.

“There was a basketball tournament this fall. Some error by the referee at the semi-finals. Oceanna was supposed to play Romero in the finals, but they got disqualified super last minute and Dam had to play his old school.” You realize that you don’t even know the name. Asking now would make it seem like Damiano withheld information from you.

“There wasn’t any warning and there was no one to sub in,” Athena continues. “If he didn’t play we’d have to forfeit so –”

“So of course he agreed to play, anyways,” you fill in.

“And we won by a landslide,” Emmaline adds, proudly. “But they were sore losers. Asked for a rematch, but we won the whole tournament.”

“In retribution the couple of seniors that knew Damiano was forced to switch schools started talking to our seniors. Eventually someone, somewhere leaked the why.”

“Sadistic cunts,” Em curses.

“PTA vultures.”

“Sadistic PTA vulture’s cunts,” she compounds.

“So how many people know?”

“Star was trying to keep it quiet,” Athena sighs.

“But now…” you prompt.

“About a third of the team knows and a few of their omega’s. A lot of people just thought he was upset yesterday. It’s a coveted secret. Knowing is a sign of seniority, so it’s not spreading like wildfire.”

“Yet,” you groan, resting your face in your palms. “He’s not even a threat to betas or omega’s, ever.

“Really?” Emmaline exclaims. “Christ, they made it seem like – ow!” Athena kicks her hard so she stops talking. You’d been so enraptured in conversation that you didn’t notice Damiano’s presence until he was right behind you.

“Hey,” Dami greets you warmly. He sits on the riser above you, arms draped around your neck. You tilt your head back for a kiss. It's just a peck because the position is awkward. He rests his face against your scalp and breathes in deep.

“What's it been? An unbearable 12 minutes without her?”

“Actually I believe it’s been 13 minutes and 5.2 seconds.”

“So basically an entire lifetime.” Em and Athena tease.

“Fuck off,” Dami mutters, lifting his face after a few moments. “I was just checking on you. You looked stressed.” You place one hand on Damiano’s cheek and turn to gaze up at him. His big, soulful eyes stare down at you adoringly and you forget to answer his question. He cradles the base of your skull, fingers threaded in your hair. Dami kisses your forehead and you allow your eyes to fall closed, just focusing on the sensation of his skin on yours. This was your little safe haven, where your mind went quiet and all the complexity of the world fell away. This was simple, animal.

When Dami pulled away, your fingertips fell to his jawline. He caught your hand in his, kissed it, and placed it in your lap.

“Whatcha talking about?” Lying doesn’t even cross your mind.

“You.”

“Me?” he asks. His infelction and expression are so cheerful that you hope Dami will allow you to elaborate later.

“Yeah, about how it took y/n six days to get your mark. Couldn’t even hold out a full week.” Dami’s eyes don’t move from your face. Instead of being offended by Em or emasculated, he grins.

“I assume they’re not this mean to you?”

“Definitely not, but I can come sit with you if you want?” It was adorable that Dami might miss you from only a few yards away.

“Take your time, I’m just checking.” He gets up and returns to his family.

“So he’s clingy, '' Em narrates. Damiano settles next to Sandro, pointing at something on the field. You quickly scan the auditorium for what everyone else is doing, and find yourself being watched by half a dozen people. Not glanced at in curiosity, but examined. You check to see if Dami has noticed, but he’s blissfully oblivious. His parents on the other hand, Isabella especially, are hyper-aware. She keeps looking back and forth between you and the spectators.

At first you wonder if it’s your fresh mark, but that's far from newsworthy.There was an omega at the far end of your section whose mark couldn’t be more than a week old and was being spared no glances. Under Isabella’s strategic gaze, you finally realize your role today.

“Oh my fucking god,” you groan.

“What is it?”

“I’m the evidence. I’m here because I am the evidence that Damiano isn’t vicious and out of control. They’re all fucking looking at me,” you hiss, ducking. Athena and Em glance around themselves.

“I wouldn’t say all –”

“Sadistic PTA vulture’s cunts.” Emmaline announces the words louder than necessary while looking behind her.

“Mm-mm, I am the wrong person for this job.” You put a hand to your chest as it tightens, then lower that hand because people will blame your distress on just speaking to Damiano. “If I have a panic attack they’ll blame it on him.”

“You’re not gonna have a panic attack,” Athena soothes, taking your hand and squeezing it. Emmaline does the same on the other side.

“Just pretend that you’re sick.”

“They’ll blame that on Damiano too. ‘Did you see his girlfriend? I’ve never seen any omega look so ill after being marked by a normal alpha.’” You impersonate these apparently hobbyless, prying alpha parents in a nasal voice.

“Well, shit,” Em deadpans.

“Am I gonna be in the spotlight forever?” you worry. “People are always gonna be prejudiced. How much of my life is gonna be fighting this bullshit because I love someone with AD2? I am not a shiny person.”

“I’ll pretend to be sick,” Em decides. “Ready, set…” She stands up to cheer like she’s wasted. Nothing has happened on the field. Then she takes a long drink from her suspicious coffee mug, wobbles, and pretends to gag. So you and Athena rush her out of the bleachers and into the first bathroom. Once the door is locked, you sink to the floor, dropping your head between your legs.

“Okay, listen. You only have to control what people think, if you care what they think,” Em points out.

“There are laws and protocols in place to protect the rights of people with hormonal dysfunction. Just get through the next year and change, then you can do it your own way.” You focus on taking slow, deep breaths, thinking that scenting would be really helpful right now. “And if Dam takes a job where he only interacts with omegas and betas, then the whole thing is mute, anyways.”

“But Damiano is so stuck in this way of being. You have no idea how fucking difficult it can be.” Athena looks at you helplessly.

“That boy would walk on glass for you.” Emmaline declares this as if Dami’s commitment was ever in question.

“But I don’t want him to! I want his life to be easy!” The room falls silent. Never did you imagine that Em and Athena would be your confidants in anything.

“I used to have playdates with Dam, when we were tiny. Isabella has always had a stick up her ass. She makes things seem harder than they are. Just…look at this again in a couple days.”

“Reevaluate,” Athena agrees. You nod, trying to shake off the anxiety. Now that you’d dodged the panic attack from, everything was uphill. At least that’s the platitude you kept repeating to yourself while walking back to the amphitheater because it had to be true.

“Very impressive performance by the way Em.”

“Thank you, thank you.” She stops to take a bow and wave at a fake audience. Knowing you’re going to be observed, you school your face into an annoyed friend and go straight to Dami. He’s standing up, back to the field, having a heated conversation with his mother. When Damiano sees you his shoulders relax and his focus shifts.

“See?” Isabella gestures towards your approach. Dami folds you into a tight hug which your return. For a few seconds, you don’t have to think about what your face is doing. Based on how tense he was, Dami probably wanted to go find you and his mother insisted he remain seated. Doing otherwise would be fuel for rumors.

You and Damiano sit on a quilt. It’s a nice alternative to cold, metal bleachers that have made you butt numb. He also threw a blanket across your laps. You could feel his concerned gaze on you. Concealing your distress for his own good had you twisted up inside and he could sense the conflict below the surface.

“Later. We’re good.” He nods, expression unchanged, and pecks your lips. The game drags on, and while being tucked under Damiano’s arm is wonderful, the sensation that you’re being watched prevails. It makes you want to crawl out of your skin. At one point, you throw your legs over Dami’s lap so you can press your face against his coat and pretend to sleep. He can probably feel that you’re faking it right now, just as you could sense last night. He strokes your hair and fiddles with your scarf, attentive in a way that makes your chest feel warm despite everything.

When the crowd is focused on whether or not a goal is about to be made you pull Dami’s jacket aside and press your nose to his scent gland. He smells like the first warm rain of spring, when everything comes alive in the greenest hue of green. He also smells like you. Unfortunately this scent won’t stay on him permanently until you mate. On the other hand, his smell is now gaining prevalence in your pheromones because of the mark. It’s a sweet musk, the perfect encapsulation of Dami’s alpha role within your relationship.

Damiano should pull away from you. Scenting is considered inappropriate behavior for a public setting. This is close enough that if someone in front of you were to turn around they’d think you were rude. Luckily, his giant hood and shoulder pads shield you from the back and side with a modicum of privacy. Instead of stopping you, Damiano sits completely still and allows you to enjoy his pheromones. Rather than just smelling, you breathe in with your mouth open and eyes closed. The subsequent effects are powerful enough that you’re satisfied, slowly pulling back.

“Better?” he murmurs, readjusting his jacket to its normal position.

“Yeah,” you sigh, lacing your hands together under the blanket. You realize that you can figure this out if you’re always on the same team. You’d have to stand by Damiano, even when it challenged you.

Unfortunately, the effects of your little transgression don’t last very long and you’re craving scenting again. You couldn’t do it here. Lord knows, what people would have to say if the both of you disappeared somewhere private. Not in the car, but maybe Damiano could walk you upstairs. It’d have to be really rushed.

“Damiano, is she asleep?” Isabella whispered. When he looks down at you, your eyes flutter open to lovingly meet his gaze.

“I think so,” he responds.

“When we drop y/n off, we should meet her family officially. I think it's far past time for that, don’t you?” Yep, they knew. Rather than banish you, Isabella had made it public that you were Damiano’s committed girlfriend. Sure, you felt a bit like a prop, but it was weirdly validating.

“Yeah, okay.” Dami looks back down at you, eyes wide open and ready to admire him from any angle you were provided. His hair fell around your face like a curtain. For a brief moment, it was only you two. It seemed that you realized simultaneously that this position was very similar to one you took last night, where Dami had pulled you sideways into his lap and cradled you. Sure it was just your legs across his lap today, but the blankets and shelter of all the layers created intimacy. Dami’s cock twitched against your thigh and he winced.

“Stop thinking about it,” you whispered.

“I can’t,” Damiano blushed.

“Think about the game.” He sighs, readjusts uncomfortably, and focuses on the scoreboard. The hand holding Dami’s is toasty and you rub your thumb to and fro. Damiano looks back at you and his expression becomes somewhat pained.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he demands, in a whisper.

“Like what?”

“Like…how you were.”

“This isn’t how I looked when you knotted me,” you defend. Dami’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head. You’re not sure about what, speaking so softly it's not as if anyone else could hear.

“Why would you bring that up?” he hisses. Damiano’s cock jumps against your thigh again.

“I thought that's what we were talking about.”

“But don’t actually say it. That makes it so much worse.” You shrug and Damiano focuses on the field with a heavy sigh. There probably wasn’t any discernible difference and this was all in his head. Testing your theory, you try to emulate the expression you’d used while play-fighting. Damiano had put you on your back and you’d looked at him like you’d never dream of disobeying him again.

When Dami compulsively went to check on you again he actually froze. You hadn’t thought it would do much at all. Instead, these barely negligible changes in expression had a huge impact. Manipulating Dami with just your eyes was dangerously fun, but he looked like he was about to blow a gasket.

“Christ, really?” You drop the facade and his chest heaves. The smirk that appears on your face might get you in trouble later, but you can’t help it. Dami untangles your hands and turns his attention staunchly forward. He gently pushes your legs off of his lap so you’re sitting upright. His other arm remains around your shoulders, perhaps for appearances.

Your stomach is sinking at the knowledge you’ve upset him. Dami’s arm pulls back too, but only so he can rub your back. It’s those long, soothing strokes he uses to comfort. He’s not angry. In fact, his hand finds your waist and pulls you closer. At the same time his stoic expression is focused on the field, like he’s refusing to look at your way.

“Love?” you murmur. Damiano turns to you immediately. His face is attentive, nothing else.

“Hey,” he jostles you, pulling the blanket up on your lap. Out of relief you kiss him, but Damiano doesn’t allow it to be more than a brief peck.

“I’m not mad, but I need to not have a boner when I stand up. Your legs putting pressure on my lap was not helping.” Dami drops his head so he can whisper in your ear.

“Oh.” You wrap both arms around his torso under his unzipped coat. “This okay?”

“Mhm.” Damiano pecks your forehead, watching the game.

“I promise I won’t do that thing with my eyes again. You can look at me.”

“But staring at these disgusting, sweaty, muddy alphas is much more effective.” You decide not to take it personally.

“When you’re warming up and it’s windy, you all look like blue marshmallows with legs.”

“So the height of masculinity?”

“Exactly.” He squeezes you and leans his head against yours. The gesture roughly translates to thank you for understanding.

Romero barely loses the game, with both sides yelling at the referee. Dami gets so invested that he spends the last 10 minutes on his feet with Sandro. His profanity laden encouragement, screamed at Star, ended with you covering your ears. Athena was just as into it, but you could see Emmaline rolling her eyes from across the amphitheater. When Manchu is announced as the winner, you do get on your feet because being the only one seated felt strange. Daminao beamed when he saw you heckling beside him.

Filing out of the bleachers, you realized this was going to be Act 3. The Davids greeted the coaches from over the railing while Dami sprinted onto the field, jumping several feet in the air. He greets his teammates: fist bumping, shoulder checking, and straight up shoving each other to the ground in good spirit. There are a couple stragglers who seem too intimidated to partake and stand a couple yards away.

Leaning against a fence post, you wait at the entrance to the field. You want to be in Dami’s line of sight when he looks for you. As he scans his surroundings, you wait for him to find you. It has become one of your greatest joys, to watch the change in Damiano’s face from searching to locating you. He lights up.

After exchanging a few more greetings, he heads towards you. A younger player, one of the stragglers. follows behind him. He probably wants to say hi now that Damiano is not surrounded by other loud alphas.

“Ready to go?” Dami calls out.

“I don’t know, are you boys done with that mating dance?” He chuckles, and in the background Lars flaps his arms like wings and hops. Another player follows along, squawking.

“I don’t know them,” Dami jokes, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb. Of course, this only encourages the team’s antics. You’re so distracted that you don’t hear the scrawny player that had followed Damiano the first time he speaks.

“Oh shit, hey Mika. What's up?” Dami greets him warmly.

“I said, ‘you seem fine.’” You and Damiano look at eachother, trying to discern what the little shrimp was talking about. “You’re obviously fine, so why didn’t you play?” Dami is wracking his brain for anyone missing at yesterday’s practice, but you both realize that wouldn’t matter. This kid would be informed of the fight as soon as he stepped into the locker room this morning. He was trying to humiliate Dami, when all of Romero Soccer's attention was on him.

“Because the collegiate sports board isn’t a 7/11,” you snap.

“But Julio was removed from the team. What’s there to evaluate?” Mika was smirking, trying to force Dami to out himself in front of dozens of spectators. Behind you, people were slowing down as they walked by. You scramble for an answer. Just cursing the little shit out was an omission of guilt.

“Nikolai.” You throw Damiano a life line and he takes it.

“I guess no one told you that either,” Damiano cringed. Pitying Mika for not earning inclusion in team conversations was so much more effective than attacking him.

“Nikolai is on probation and the board has to decide what to do with him.”

“Did you try to kill him too?”

“I didn’t try to kill anyone!” Damiano lashes out. You catch him by his wrist and pull him next to you.

“I just don’t understand why Nikolai and Julio aren’t even allowed to be here. Since, you’re obviously a danger to people around you. Everyone who knows agrees with me, but they just too scared –”

“You know I truly cannot imagine being this insecure.” Dami may not be willing to sink to Mika’s level but you’d happily make friendship bracelets with Hades. You’d take pleasure in crushing Dami’s enemies in the process of defending his honor. So he can see the confidence in your face, you look over to him. Damiano is petrified. Are you absolutely ready to go to war right here, right now, in front of god and everybody? Yes, but he’s not.

“Or should I say delusional. Everybody who? You’re the only one standing here. Literally look around yourself.” Mika does in fact, look around himself. “C’mon, let's go,” you pull Dami’s hand towards the parking lot. Before you can turn around, Mika recovers.

“That’s what I’m saying! They’re scared of him.” You force yourself to burst out laughing and look at Star from across the field. He understands that gaslighting is a group effort and starts chuckling, staring at Mika like he’s lost his mind.

“What the fuck are you even talking about? I’m actually so confused.” Acting as though the whole thing’s absurd was a shortcut to ruining Mika’a credibility. There's a place inside your heart where you know a shred of empathy should lay, but all that’s left is anger on your alpha’s behalf.

“I have no idea,” Star agrees. Mika’s head turns back and forth as he realizes the power of a vindictive omega.

“Julio attacked Dami. Dami defended himself. Julio got kicked off the team, but somehow Damiano is the unhinged, violent one? Julio isn’t even allowed to come to games!” People had stopped walking altogether, just to watch the spectacle.

“Yeah, what are you even mad about?” says a voice you don’t recognize.

“We lost because we were missing three of our best players and it's his fault! He shouldn’t even be on the team!”

“Thank you.” Damiano finally pipes up next to you. Everyone listening in has confusion on their faces.

“For saying I’m one of the best players on the team. That means a lot, man.” He even claps Mika on the shoulder while smirking. It’s his alpha smirk, his I know I’m the hottest one here smirk, his I have the power smirk. It means all his defenses are up, but also that he’ll be okay.

Lars matches that expression, and suddenly Mika feels very small. Everyone has forgotten about the second sentence. He shouldn’t even be on the team. They’re all enraptured by this young, egotistical alpha being publicly humbled by his own.

“You should be thanking Dami, since you’re his alternate.”

“I’m not his alternate!” defends Mika.

“Oh, sorry I don’t know a lot about sports. What's it called when someone is only allowed to play if one of the good athletes can’t?” you ask Damiano. He scoffs and puffs his chest out.

“Good game, boys.” He raises his hand in farewell, and walks away, throwing an arm around your shoulders. You decide to keep the charade up as long as you’re being watched.

“That was so random. What is up with that kid?”

“I don’t know, maybe dehydration,” he shrugs, casually. Dami catches on so fast that you wonder if this isn’t the first time he’s had to perform.

“Are they gonna have to get him a doctor?”

“Maybe,” he sighs. “I sure hope not. I think he’ll feel okay after some electrolytes.”

“Is it ‘cause he’s never been on the field for a full game?” Usurping Mika’s last bit of credibility is vindicating.

“I think…” Damiano squints his eyes while pretending to jog his memory. “Yeah, I think that’s the longest he’s been in a game.” A few seconds later you’re out of the crowd and walking across the parking lot. Sandro and Matteo are standing outside the car and Isabella comes up behind you, breathless.

“Good, that was good!” she assures, always watching. The best way to describe Damiano’s response to her words is that he shuts off. He shuts off his emotions, reactions, opinions, vulnerability, personality, affection. In the process he mutes your connection. The ways you can sense and anticipate each other is severed. When you reach out to understand it's like screaming into the universe’s largest expanse of emptiness. Sure, non-verbal episodes as a stress response weren’t uncommon with alpha-omegas, but this went so far beyond that. There’s no shape or light in the place you used to be connected. He’s not there. He occupies some other space, entirely unreachable.

You’d never appreciated your bond. It grew so gradually and paled in comparison to a mating bond. Now that Damiano had blocked everything out, your tethering point became a bloodied hole.

“Let me in. Let me in,” you whisper in his ear. The car was moving but your whole world felt at a stand still. Damiano hadn’t cared who sat in the middle seat. Now you had to wonder if he’d be compelled to protect you right now. No, you didn’t need his protection, but after a year with a safety net that yawning chasm of fate feels less like a fact of life and more like inevitability.

You try to hold Dami’s hand, but he barely responds. Even as you lean your forehead against his temple.

“Just let me in. You don’t have to let anyone else in,” you whisper. “Please, please, please, please.” Blocking someone less than a day after marking them had to be the height of cruelty. “Dami, you’re hurting me.” He doesn’t react. “Love, you’re hurting me.” Tears burn behind your eyes. Would this episode affect your mark? Would it develop normally or would this thrilling new intimacy be warped?

“Just squeeze my hand.” You wait in rapture, knowing that he won’t punish you in an effort to punish himself. He’ll hold your hand back and you’ll start from there. You wait and you wait and that response never comes. If Dami wasn’t blinking, you’d assume he was unconscious, but even when you woke in the middle of the night it wasn’t like this. He wasn’t exhausted or preoccupied. Damiano was purposefully pushing you away with both hands and every ounce of his monstrous mental fortitude.

“This isn’t fair,” you whisper. “I want you just as you are.” Pressing a kiss to his cheek makes you realize that Damiano always leaned into your touches, ever so slightly. The meeting of your lips and his bare skin always changed his breathing. Now he’s a statue, like you mean nothing to him.

“There's something wrong with Dami.” Your voice shakes and the tears fall. Everyone looks at him. You expected someone to startle, instead it's as if they’ve seen it before. Sandro reaches across and shakes his knee.

“Dam? Damiano, c’mon. Dam?” Nothing. Your stomach turns and suddenly you can’t stand being in the same space as this creature who was once your boyfriend filled with energy and passion for life.

“Pull over.”

“What?” Matteo asks. “Here?” You nod.

“Pull over. Just pull over, it doesn’t matter.” He idles on the shoulder outside an abandoned industrial building. You clamber out of the car. After a few breaths of fresh air the nausea abates, but everytime you look at him it comes back. For the first time, you could describe the exact color and shape of Damiano’s soul. The weight, texture, and the way it shimmered in the sun, or sung with the wind on stormy afternoons. You could do all these things, because you now knew what he looked like without it.

“Can you hand me my backpack?” you cry, covering the ugly noises your mouth is making with one hand. Sandro picks it up and reaches across Dami’s body, handing it over. Damiano’s eyes follow. For a millisecond you can see him, cowering in the farthest corner of his brain. Or maybe you’re imagining it to stay sane.

“Sometimes the stress after an episode makes him non-verbal. We already know that it’s a normal –”

“No! This is not non-verbal. My sister Thalia goes non-verbal when she gets overstimulated. This isn’t – he’s not…” A sob shakes you so completely that you sit down in the grass. Matteo turns off the engine and switches on the hazard lights. Isabella gets out and walks around the car.

“These episodes are usually very short. He’ll probably be fine within the next couple days.”

“Fine?” you seeth. “A person does not go from that to fine in 24 hours, or a week, or probably a fucking month!” Part of you is aware that this isn’t the way to talk to your alpha’s mother, but a significantly larger part doesn’t care.

“I know the catatonia –”

“Catatonia!? He’s not there, Isabella. He’s not fucking there!” You point to your head while tears run down your face. “Do you understand? There’s nothing on the other end. He’s not there!” No beta could begin to comprehend this, but Isabella is an alpha. She takes a deep breath and nods and that's all you can make out between the sobs. Everyone's expressions are blurry, but you don’t care about their condemnation or absolution. Let them think what they want about your reaction.

“That is not stress! He’s – he’s just…he doesn’t want to interact with the world.” you sob, gasping for air. He doesn’t want to be here are the words you can’t bear to say. Isabella places a maternal hand on your back but enrages you rather than comforts. Isabella, who made Dami come to the game where he was ambushed and judged.

“If you knew this could happen, why make him go today?” you demand, furious. “You should have protected him! If he’d stayed at home this wouldn’t have happened!”

“Or something else could have triggered it.”

“And I could hypothetically get hit by a bus at any minute which is why I don’t walk into the street with my eyes closed!!” Outright screaming is a sign this interaction needs to end. “I’m sorry for yelling. I’ll walk home.” The words are mechanical, and you never meet anyone's eyes.

“Honey, that's going to be at least an hour,” Matteo calls. You can’t look back, already crying so hard that walking is difficult. Crying so hard you can’t even hear when the car drives away. Crying so hard that you don’t hear your mother trying to get your attention when she pulls up next to you.

“Y/n? Y/n? Darling, the Davids called me. They explained what’s going on.” You trip on the curb trying to get into the car. Landing on the asphalt reminds you of all the times Dami caught your clumsy ass, which just increases the despair. The ride home is a couple minutes, during which you try to get your shit together.

“Is Clio home?” you sniff.

“Yes, she is,” your mother replies evenly.

“Fuck,” you groan, rubbing your flushed face.

“I’ll make sure she goes easy on you.” Walking into your house was a mix of emotions. At this moment you’d be dreading the Davids driving away and wishing you had more time with Dami. Right now, you miss Damiano, but can’t stand being around him.

As soon as you get your shit together it all goes to pieces again. First thing you do is take off your coat, Dami’s coat. The memory of how animated he was this morning is torture. After the shoes and the jacket you take off your scarf out of habit, revealing the evidence that you’d been marked.

Crying some more while mom makes camomile tea only gives you a headache. When Clio walks into the kitchen, you know it’s about to hurt like a brain aneurysm.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re 15!” she exclaims, first thing. “I’m gonna kill him for deceiving you like this. There’s things that you don’t even know about and –”

“I know,” your croak. “I know about all of it and I provided informed, enthusiastic consent, so you can fuck off.”

“And the fact that you were okay with it is just evidence that you’re not old enough to make this decision, oh shit.” You burst into tears again. Clio takes three steps forward and crushes you in a hug.

“I’m gonna get snot all over you.”

“Don’t care. I’m going to castrate him with a butter knife,” she pledges.

“Please don’t. He’s not the reason I’m crying. I mean, he is, but not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?” she questions, harshly. Clio pulls back to look at your face.

“He didn’t hurt me, but he’s in a shitty situation. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him and I just feel so much empathy that I can’t – can’t” you gasp, followed by a sob. Mom hands Clio a paper towel for you to blow your nose. Clio analyzes you for a few moments, gaze scrupulous.

“Come with me.” Your sister drags you to the bathroom and rips off the bandage. She must examine the bite for a full minute, before stepping back.

“I assume you’re checking y/n’s mark,” mom calls. “How’s it looking?”

“Immaculate,” admits Clio begrudgingly. “There’s nothing left for me to do,” she calls. “No discoloration, no sign of infection, no rash, no irritation, no discharge. I could put a bandage on it, but it’s already scabbed over.”

“Well, that’s excellent!” Mom is trying to interject as much positivity as possible into the conversation via her tone of voice.

“Maybe the bastard does care about you as much as you think he does,” Clio mumbles. This makes you smile, but then your eyes water.

“Sit sideways,” she demands. You sit sideways on the closed toilet lid so she can brush your hair. It's sort of her love language. Clio takes it down out of the jumbo scrunchie pensively.

“I thought you lost this.”

“Lent it to Dami. There's a picture in the school newsletter. He kept it by his bed all week.”

“Sentimental bastard.” Clio pulls her phone out of her pocket and switches to your email. She stares at the picture in her nondominant hand while brushing with the other.

“Hmm” is the extent of her retort. After detangling she methodically applies hair oil and creates plaits. Mom brings you a cup of tea, communing from a seat on the edge of the bathtub.

“So, yesterday?” she asks. You nod in return. The way Clio braided was way more complex than you had the patience to learn. Her beautiful, delicate hands worked painstakingly.

“I hope it was…I hope you feel content with it.” Clio radiates disapproval, but she doesn’t speak up.

“He was amazing,” you whisper, staring at the grout. “I wasn’t scared. I felt respected.” Even talking about Damiano in a hoarse murmur was almost too much. “It was my choice, all of it. I picked exactly when I got marked.” Mom nodded, shifting her grip on the tea mug, thoughtfully.

“You picked a good one,” she decided, then dropped the topic. Her and Clio chatted back and forth, just ambient noise. Your neck was stiff by the end of it, but the result was beautifully intricate. You admire how shiny your hair is in the mirror, no longer feeling the urge to blubber.

“Thank you.”

“It’s lovely work Clio.” She gives a tight lipped smile in response, standing with her hands on her hips.

“Stress is such a vague term,” she proclaims. You know it's in reference to the details mom had shared with her. This entire time Clio has been contemplating the situation.

“I think he really loves parts of his life, but sometimes it gets too overwhelming for him to tolerate. Isabella just accepts that, but I don’t.”

“And you shouldn’t,” Clio agrees. “His parents are being irresponsible.”

“I’m sure it's a very complex situation,” added your mother. Such a gentle mannered woman had ended up with three daughters that were all just different brands of incendiary.

“They’re trying to do the right thing for him, but it feels like they never talk about it. There was just this protocol decided on at some point and they’re gonna stick with that forever.” Your mother nods in agreement and the bathroom is silent for a minute.

“Do you feel like now you could stand to be around him?” Clio asks, folded arms.

“Uh, yeah. Him shutting me out was just…too much.”

“It’s not about you though, he’s shutting everybody out.”

“He could have made an exception!” you snap.

“Or maybe he couldn’t,” Clio countered. “Maybe it was just too hard. Anyways, my point is that he needs you right now because you advocate for him. If that’s too much pressure, fine. That’s fair, you’re only 15.. But if it’s not, we should go.”

***

You call Isabella before leaving, just to make sure you hadn’t offended her to the point of banishment. Surprisingly, you hadn’t offended her at all. She thought your presence may be a great idea, but only as long as it wasn’t detrimental to your own health. You agree, when what you really want to say is that nothing could be worse for my mental health then the haunting void in my mind where Damiano used to be.

His room is dark: lights off, shades drawn. If not for his pheromones, you might not have known Dami was under all those blankets. At least he smelled the same, that was a comfort.

“Hey it’s me, here to ruin your peace and quiet.” He doesn’t respond, doesn’t move. “Make any sound if you want me to leave you alone.” Again nothing, but Dami had been absolutely silent since you left the parking lot. Trying to figure out if he’s asleep, you lightly place your hand on his back and can feel his heartbeat racing. He’s probably too anxious to sleep.

“How about, stay in that exact position if you want me to leave.” You brace for it to be like holding his hand earlier, but Damiano pulls up the corner of a quilt, inviting you to lay beside him. You squeal in excitement, crawling over.

He doesn’t pull you against him, but he does hold eye contact, which is his second effort to engage with the world around him.

“Look at you, being a chatty Cathy,” you wink. “Oh shit, was that insensitive? God damn it I never know when to stop talking and, oh no.” The preemptive embarrassment hits you. “Oh, it's just gonna be so much worse now, too,” you groan, before catching yourself. “But, like no pressure! Take all the time you need. In the meantime, I…well, we’re gonna need some sort of signal for you to tell me to shut up. Do you have a bell?” You sit up, evaluating the trinkets in reach for their usefulness. “Hmm, no bell, but maybe something else that makes noise? Oh, I know!” You sink down to the pillow again. “Get one of those spray bottles they use for cats that are misbehaving. Do you have a plant mister? I'm pretty sure they’re – mm!”

Damiano kisses you. He just lurches forward and puts his mouth on yours. Technique wise, it's your worst kiss, but you still throw yourself into it. One hand comes to cup the side of his face and you stroke his cheek. You try to coax him forth, into the kiss, but it doesn’t work. He doesn’t touch you and it wouldn’t matter if he had both arms wrapped around you. It’s sort of like kissing a stranger. It feels like you’re cheating on Dami.

Compared to the normal raging inferno, you’ve got no chemistry. It’s how romantic and sexual interactions were before Dami. This was the part that was so impossible to explain, how being alone in a closed room with the right alpha could be more compelling than actual sex with someone else.

“My love,” you coo, pulling Damiano towards you. Gentle wasn’t working, so your other hand snaked under his waist and around his torso. You throw your leg over his, trying to tangle your bodies together. Dami isn’t registering that the licking and pushing at his lips with your tongue is a request. Once he opens his mouth to take a breath though, you trace the inside of his lip. What a stupid mistake to think that French kissing would work well right now. In any other situation you’d give up, embarrassed. But Damiano was trying to engage after being so completely crushed by stress that he had a trauma reaction.

“Okay, hey. Why don’t you just lay on top of me?” You flip into missionary position, arms extended. Dami gives you a strange look and awkwardly flops down. You’re hell bent on getting his face by your scent glands.

“C’mere, baby. Come up here. Mhm.” You cup the base of his head and press Damiano’s face against your mark. He bumps it painfully with his nose and you wince. Physicality wasn’t why this worked well. It worked because underneath it all, you were highly biologically compatible. That was still intact, if you could just get him to open up and feel it.

“Think about how you smell,” you whisper, and wait a full minute. “Now focus on how I smell.” After a few seconds, Dami’s hand crawls up the bed, and laces itself with yours. Somehow, some way, that resonated with him.

“That mark is yours.” Your voice wobbles, but you keep the tears at bay. “I’m yours.” Without your explicit permission, your legs have wrapped themselves around Dami. The weight, heat, and smell of his body are all the same. You’re battling primal parts of the brain that interact minimally with your conscious mind. They’re screaming: I know who this is! We know who this is!

Out of reflex, you internally reach for Damiano’s presence, already anticipating his absence. It still sucks. It feels like Dami is braced with his back to the door and you’re trying to donkey kick it open with both feet. It’s exhausting on both ends.

“I smell so good because the diversity between our immune systems is compatible. Even in the ways we're different, we’re –” He shakes his head, growling against your neck. Damiano tries to create space, but you end up on your side, noses pressed together.

“You can feel it. I belong to you, so you marked me.” There’s comprehension in Damiano’s eyes. “Which is why you can smell yourself inside me. I’m y/n and I belong to you and I asked you to mark me so you don’t just get to abandon me. No!” you growl in frustration, as Damiano’s eyes switch to looking straight through you. He’s totally checked out in a way so unsettling it makes you nauseous. Mentally, Dami has wedged a chair under the door knob, but you’ve started to work on removing the hinges.

“Do you even care that you made love to me and knotted me and marked me and I liked it so fucking much even though it hurt? It was special! You don’t just get to…Stop pretending I’m not right in front of you!”.

Dami’s face crumples. He looks sickened with guilt, on the verge of tears. His expression breaks your heart, but at the same time you feel elated. This person, however tortured, was Damiano. He wants to run and hide so you use every ounce of your strength to keep him close.

“Stop pushing me away!” You attempt to make your voice commanding instead of petulant and desperate. Damiano tries to wrench himself out of your grip, but you both know it's bullshit. Damiano is incredibly strong. So if he really wanted to be free, he could throw you across the room. Or he could inflict pain to make you let go. He does neither. This is why you decide, possibly against your better judgment, to force the issue.

“Let me in. You can do it, it’s just me.” Damiano turns his face away, which you use as an opportunity to press your lips to his ear. “Mine. Mine, mine, mine.” The reminder that he belongs to you, just as you belong to him, is too much. Or perhaps claiming him, as he tried to run from himself, was what earned rejection. Either way, Dami flips over and turns his back to you.

“Damiano, I am proud to be your omega. Damiano, you are brave. You are loved. You are in control.” He lashes out and bites your arm. The mark won’t even last until tomorrow. Instead of moving it out of range, you reposition your forearm to the exact spot it rested when Dami nipped you. This upsets him enough to let out a angry whine of betrayal for the apparently unforgivable crime of believing in him.

“Damiano, I’m proud to be your omega.” Now he exerts some strength, pinning you to the bed haphazardly with his chest and both hands. You’re on your side, arm crushed underneath.Using your free hand, you move the braid from covering your neck. Further revealing the most vulnerable place on your body, rather than using this moment to guard it. He growls and yips, like trusting him is even more offensive than providing affirmations. Damiano grabs both your wrists in one hand and painfully wrenches them to the side. Now immobilized, he rests his teeth right on your jugular vein and snarls terrifyingly.

“Bullshit,” you spew, trying to wiggle free. He keeps a tight hold on your wrists and brings his teeth to your trachea. You try not to cower. Instinctually, the response is fear, even though you know it's an empty threat.

“You’re not even letting yourself go into headspace because you’re too fucking concerned about actually scaring me.” You challenge him right back with a snarl that encompasses all the frustration of today..

With your faces pressed together, you both bare your teeth. It's more exhilarating than anything else. Damiano had never interacted this way, even though you knew it was a side of him that existed. Calling his bluff makes Dami drop the act. In the wake, you catch tenderness in his eyes.

“This isn’t your fault. None of it is your fault. You are free of blame. You are free of guilt.” He seems to give up on scaring you off. The threat was so empty, that it was more of a test than anything. Would you still want him not pretty and polished for everyone’s consumption? Could he trust that? He rolls over and curls fetal, making himself small in a way you’d never seen an alpha behave before. Gritting your teeth, you persevere.

“Why are you running from how I feel about you? To punish yourself? You’re not allowed to twist up my love for you like that,” you growl. “Stop it. I don’t consent to have my love used that way.” There it was. You’d admitted it. Damiano lets out a choking sob and takes the wall away. It’s like breaking through the surface after a riptide has kept you under water within an inch of your life. He’s everywhere again, in every sense. There's even parts of yourself you get back. Not because he took them, but because the wind blows a flower’s seed across the fence, and upon finding greener pastures the new bloom flourishes.

In the same way, parts of Damiano that were wrenched away had wallowed in their grief, sickening you. Their sharp, broken corners left stinging cuts on the soft tissue of your insides. It was no longer possible for you to be whole and separate.

“Hello my love,” you choke. “Thank you for coming back to me, I missed you.” Kiss. So very –” kiss, kiss “much!” He’s still curled up in a defensive position as you kiss his face. Silently, tears are streaming down his cheeks. It’s healthy, even if it's hard to watch.

“I meant what I said about taking your time. Don’t just stuff it all down as soon as it feels manageable. This time things are going to change so you don’t have to keep going back to this place to survive.” Dami flips on his back, face hardened, and pulls you onto his chest. His legs come up and wrap around your thighs too. It's a strange position, but you don’t dislike it.

His cheek is pressed to your forehead, so Damiano’s tears wet your face as well. This is how you can tell that things aren’t getting better. He’s still crying just as hard 15 minutes later, jaw trembling. Dami is clutching you the way a child clutches a teddy bear. Perhaps you’re not actively doing much, but if he didn’t have a secure hold on you that would make the whole thing too overwhelming to even consider.

“I love being this close to you.” You let those words stand alone for a few seconds. “Is there some way I could make this moment better? I could rub your feet, massage your back, play with your hair, put lotion on. Is there a specific type of touch that’d make you feel better?” Dami shakes his head and squeezes tighter. “Okay,” you agree, content. You’d got him back in the way that matters most. There were far worse things than being Dami’s teddy bear. Plus, this was heaven compared to him not holding your hand in the car.

At some point he realizes your forehead is all wet and releases you. You wipe it off with your hand and attempt to evaluate the situation. This was the second day you’d helped Damiano through a crisis. If he was in crisis, there was nowhere in the world you’d prefer to be than by his side. However, this one could have been avoided. Dami’s hatred and fear of these episodes made much more sense. It was never just a health event. He had to reconcile whatever harm he’d caused, save face, apologize the exact right way, damage control, justify his existence to a board of some sort, pretend he was unaffected, pretend it was insignificant. He had to parade himself around for the judgment of others, making sure it ended up favorably.

Even before that, he had to deal with injuries, public appearances, medical treatment that fucked with his hormones, exhaustion, and nightmares (apparently). Then there were the subsequent doctor’s visits. The following non-verbal episodes were just his mind and body trying to survive all that anxiety and dread.

“I was just thinking about how this is a proportional reaction to everything you’ve been subjected to.” He’s expressionless. Despite this, within yourself, Damiano feels just as present as usual.

“Hey, never do that dead eyed, soulless thing with me again, okay?” He nods diligently, visibly burdened with guilt and other crushing emotions. That's not what you wanted at all. You kiss his cheek and pivot to a bright tone.

“Do you want some water?” He nods, which is encouraging. “Food?” He shakes no. “Okay,” you accept without argument. “I’ll be back.”

Sandro, Isabella, and Matteo are all standing in the kitchen when you walk in. It’s painfully awkward, considering you just had a full blown mental breakdown on the side of the road in front of them.

“Ugh, sorry, excuse me.” You open the cupboard and take a glass out, filling it with water from the sink.

“If he seems thirsty you should give him this.” Anxiously, Isabella takes a bottle out of the fridge. “Electrolytes, some calories.” When she hands it over, you decide to take both. Sandro clears his throat roughly, probably a nervous tick.

“Is everything okay?” Matteo asks, timidly. You’re not sure what to say. Obviously, it is very not okay.

“He’s not getting worse,” you volunteer, to avoid giving anything away. Maybe communicating with you was the only thing that felt manageable. You weren’t about to create expectations that he had to meet. No one pressed you further after this nondescript answer, so you returned to the bedroom. Damiano had opened the furthest shade an inch, just enough light to see. He sat on the edge of the bed with his back turned to the window.

“Hey, your mom gave me this,” you hand over the bottled drink. “But I also got this.” He takes both and drinks the glass of water. Each ends up on the nightstand.

“So…I want you to know that you can kick me out whenever you want. Don’t feel obligated or like – okay. Okay!” He starts tugging your arms. “Okay, Dami,” you giggle, being lifted you onto his lap. Again, he wraps his arms and legs around you, but this time you come to rest on your side.

“I wasn’t saying right now, but eventually when you want space, Daammm!” This time he rolls so your face is pressed into a pillow and your voice muffled. “So you’re happy I came over, then?” He nods harshly, rubbing his face along the fabric of your top like a cat, casually dispersing some pheromones as a result. “I’m happy I’m here, too.” Damiano starts nuzzling your neck and you feel like a dumbass for not thinking of it earlier.

“Do you want me to scent you?” He disentangles himself from you and hops out of bed. At first you’re confused, until you hear the door latch. Dami pulls off his sweatshirt and tee then throws himself on the mattress beside you. He’s almost smiling, like he’s holding his mouth in a straight line, rather than having no emotion to move his face. The mock neck of the long sleeve you’re wearing gets in the way before you can even start. While it was a great look for hiding your mark, it’s a real pain in the ass right now.

First, you attempt to roll it down, but that only works if you use your hand constantly. Going shirtless might seem presumptuous and the last thing Dami needs right now is more pressure. So you end up crouched over his chest, biting your lip in thought.

Damiano raises his hands and rests them on your back. He begins unbuttoning the dress, making the decision for you. While he works, you rest your forehead against his, treasuring this moment. He pushes the right sleeve down, then the left. Finally, he reaches into your dress and grabs the hem of your undershirt. Dami pulls it off your head, catching your hairstyle in the process. After the top is discarded, he examines the braid with a grip on the hair tie. Dami appreciates all angles.

“Since I was little Clio has done my hair when I’m really sad about something.” You wince as soon as the words leave your mouth. Dami’s face changes, but there's no platitude or assurance for this. Devastation wasn’t an overreaction and you both knew it. Instead of trying to fill the space, you lean down and run your right scent gland across his pecs and collarbones, ending by fitting your neck to his. It's a little sore from the bruising. You can’t just haphazardly rub against him and roll around in bed like animals.

Dami notices your limited movement and remembers to check your scent gland. He sits up, examining the mark on your left side carefully.

“It’s healing well,” you assure. He nods, laying down with a sigh. Any stress relief is negated. You try a different tactic, fitting your neck against him against his again. Resting there, you carefully brush back and forth, focusing on being thorough. After a minute you move up to his jaw, then cheek, then hair. His body relaxes underneath yours. His hands on your back grow limp and when you check on his expression, Damiano’s eyes are fluttering.

With both hands, you stroke his head, massage his scalp, play with his hair, run your nails along his undercut. The way he rubbed your ears in the shower yesterday was heavenly so you try to do the same. You start by tracing along the cartilage, rubbing the shell of his ear, pulling the lobe between your fingers.

When that’s done, you quietly open the drawer in search of lotion. It’s hilarious that sexually liberated Dami still uses lotion to masturabate instead of lube. However, it makes your life easier right now. With a couple pumps in your palm, you run your hands down his chest and abdomen. Starting at the top, you work the meat of your hand into the muscle of his pecs. You’ve never massaged someone's chest, not really sure how to do it. He seems to be enjoying it with little rumbling hums which is all that really matters anyways.

From sternum down you’re at a loss. There’s no muscle on his ribs to massage and having someone press on your stomach sounded unpleasant. Instead, you just rub the cream in. Switching to his forearms comes with new ideas. You apply gentle pressure while running your hand up and down. You use your thumbs to massage Dami’s hand. There's obviously a lot of muscle in the area, but you have no idea how to treat it. Still, he seems to enjoy this most of all so you repeat it on the other side.

Next your attention is turned to his legs. Paying so much attention to his thighs may result in certain circumstances you were unsure how to navigate. Damiano saves you the worry by flipping over. It was wonderful to see him accept some generous comfort, asking for it without words. He allows himself to relax under your gentle touch like never before. You realize it's probably because he’s not battling impulses. He’d marked you less than a day ago so those demanding, alpha sexual impulses were quieted. For now. There needed to be a system of consent put in place soon.

Damiano whiles beneath you. In a moment of thought, your hands had stilled. You smiled because it was the most he’d communicated with you all day.

“All right, all right,” you respond fondly. “No need to complain about it, geez.” Although it felt counterintuitive, in Dami’s position you’d loath being treated like glass. Maintaining some sense of normalcy was important. As soon as you worried about the teasing being one-sided however, Dami used his hips to knock you off him. You laughed while climbing back to your previous position. Not because it was particularly funny, but because you were relieved. Even within the circumstances, your dynamic was completely preserved.

“Ingrate,” you muttered, squirting the cold lotion directly onto his back. He let out a sound of displeasure. You leaned forward and kissed the back of his head before continuing. Damiano was so muscular from all the sports he played that your hands grew sore.

“Your shoulders are like massaging concrete by the way.” You sat up and took a break, shaking your hands to stop them from cramping. Dami turned onto his back again and extended his arms towards you, releasing you from the obligation. Happily, you rested under his chin and enjoyed having your hair stroked until his hands were tired as well. Then you just lay in silence and that was okay.

Notes: I’ve noticed in hurt/comfort stories that everyone just moves on and there’s no emotional consequence from traumatic events. That’s not realistic with the amount of pressure alpha Dami has been under so you’re in for a bit more angst

Masterlist

@asianhawkeye-blog @bieberhoodforever @blackberryblossom @butkutee @cuzimitaliano @elvirabelle @ethaneskin @iamtashaquinn @icarodamiano @idyllicbutterfly @ilwiwbysmv @immrbrightsideeee @little-moonbeam-666 @maneslut @mortyandem @ohdamiano @the-chaotic-cow @theimpossiblehologramtree @wasteddoubts @weareoddlydrawn @whore4damia @woahzz11 @8iunie @azertyhug @biancathecool @xweirdxsceletton @bohemianrainbow @boyswillbeexecutied @daisy0gf @dustyinkpages @katyldamusic @minnietmouse @obiw4n @persona1read1ng @ch3rryk4ii @gr8rainbowpunk @hiraetheral @homesicam @iosonoarina @l0standn0tf0und @que--sera--sera @stardustingold @superchrystaldrug @teenyweenynightghost @damoriaa @teacosea @softmullet @solacestyles @thegeminisgirl @bobfood @slavicgoddess

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jungle-angel · 2 years

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Breath of Life (Bob x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Even the smallest things in life can be stronger than steel

Note: This is based off of a headcannon I did for a list some time back (I need to repost that one along with other works to the sideblog so bear with me my friends). This one is also for @18crazybutcutealsopsycho, my dear I believe I owe you this one

Bob really hadn’t been himself lately. Come to think of it, he hadn’t been himself for quite a while and everybody could see it.

Natasha had been the first to notice. Bob was her best backseater who had always been able to pay attention to the smallest details, sometimes talking her ear off at times......but lately he had gone quiet.....a little too quiet for anyone’s liking.

“Doin ok back there Bob?” she asked.

“Hmm?” he hummed. “ Oh.....yeah, yeah I’m ok. I’m fine.”

“You sure?” she asked.

“I’m fine, really I just....I’m just thinking that’s all.”

Phoenix could tell that something was wrong and could sense exactly what it was. “Look, Bob,” she said. “I’m sure (y/n) and August are gonna be fine. You’ve gotta stop worrying so much about it.”

But he couldn’t, he just fucking couldn’t. The anxiety ate away at him as they flew on into the distance and even as another jet leveled out next to them.

“Hey,” Hangman radioed. “Baby On Board, you doin ok? You look out of it.”

“Sorry Hangman,” Bob replied. “I really don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

Hangman felt a pang of guilt forming in his chest. He had the feeling that he shouldn’t have brought up Bob’s nickname. “Hey,” he said. “Whatever happens.......we’ll look out for you guys.”

Bob nodded, a burn flaring in his throat and his eyes beginning to mist over. “Test flight complete and successful,” he said, his throat hoarse and dry.

“Strike team returning to base,” Phoenix radioed.

The planes roared through the sky and landed on the burning tarmac. Mirages rippled along the air as pilots milled about, the planes moving carefully to their hangars while others were readying for test flights. Hangman, Bob, Coyote, Phoenix and Rooster all made their way back towards the base, eager to head home and hopefully cool off in the sweltering heat.

“So meet at the Hard Deck at seven?” Phoenix asked.

“Why the fuck not?” Hangman chuckled. “Maybe after that a night swim with the girls.....or in Phoenix’s case....”

“My husband’s on a mission in the Philippines dickhead,” Phoenix told him, trying not to laugh.

The sound of feet pounding on the tarmac reached their ears when the pilots suddenly caught sight of Maverick running towards them, flight helmet in hand and a look of urgency on his face. “Lieutenant Floyd!” he called. “Bob!”

“Mav?” he asked.

“Bob I.....it’s (y/n).....she just called from the base hospital,” Maverick explained.

Bob felt his heart drop before it started beating wildly, his head and chest buzzing and vibrating with fear. “Oh God,” he said, the dam of emotions near to bursting. “No.....no it’s not.....is it?”

“Come with me,” Maverick said. “I’ll bring you.”

“Can we meet you there?” Phoenix asked.

“Meet us when you can,” Maverick told them.

Maverick and Bob hurried to the parking area, jumping into Bob’s truck without a second thought. Maverick drove, pulling away from the base and leaving the others behind.

Neither of them hardly said a word as they drove towards the base hospital. Maverick looked over at Bob who rubbed his stinging eyes, doing everything in his power to hold back what he was feeling inside. “Bob?” Maverick asked, his hand gripping Bob’s shoulder. “Bob you with me?”

“I can’t lose him Mav,” Bob choked. “He’s so little.....I couldn’t.....”

“You couldn’t live with yourself if something happened to him,” Maverick said, finishing the words that Bob couldn’t.

Bob went dead silent for a moment, his lower lip trembling a little. “No parent should have to bury their kid,” he croaked.

Bob buried his face in his hands as a shuddering sob escaped his throat. Maverick was close to breaking himself, never once taking his hand off of Bob’s shoulder except to make a turn. Finally, they made it. The two of them practically jumped out of the truck and ran into the triage area where you were you were waiting.

Bob caught you in his arms, your own hugging his neck as you both let out what had been held in. “What happened?” Bob asked. “(Y/n) what’s wrong with Auggie?”

“He spiked a fever this morning,” you explained as more tears threatened to come forward. “His heart is weak and.....”

Bob could hardly breathe. No amount of g-force could compare to how crushed he was feeling now, his whole body going hot with fear. “Can we see him?” he asked weakly.

You nodded before one of the nurses ordered the three of you to follow her, leading you to a room down the hall where your son August was being kept in his incubator. Inside was yours and Bob’s son August, the tangle of wires hooked up to his tiny little form. He was so small, all of his features nearly perfect save for the barely noticeable wrinkles in his little face.

“Do you want to...?” Bob asked.

“I already did,” you said, wiping away a tear.

When the nurse came in, Bob tied the sleeves of his flight suit around his waist and stripped off his black t-shirt before you shakily stuck it in your bag. Neither of you cared that Maverick was still there. Being the den-father, you needed him and your husband now more than ever.

The nurse carefully helped Bob pick August up, bringing him to his chest before Bob carefully lowered himself into the rocker, cradling your son’s tiny little form against him as you covered him with the Indian blanket that he had brought with him from Oklahoma. He was still in awe of how perfect August was despite being born so early. His hair and his eyes were all Bob, even the little lopsided corners of his mouth.

“August,” Bob murmured as he stroked the dark blonde tufts of hair on your son’s hair, sniffing back the tears that dripped from his eyes. “Hold on.....just a little while longer.....hold on for me and Mama.”

Bob’s lips gently brushed the crown of August’s head, his chest growing tight as the beep of August’s heart monitor grew fainter.......until......

August drew in a squeaky little breath before his face scrunched together, his cries sounding more like a small cat as they echoed across the room. Bob clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming but not before an audible gasp flew from his throat. Even you were in shock as tears of relief filled your eyes and Maverick’s.

Bob could hardly hold it back, laughing and crying with relief as he gently rocked August in his arms. The others came in barely a few minutes later, seeing for themselves the relief in everyone’s eyes and they themselves proud of the newest member of the family.

“Congrats Daddy,” Phoenix teased as she snapped a few pictures.

“Thank you,” Bob answered. “Oh God it’s so surreal.”

Rooster brought Nicky and Pete in, letting them go to you and Bob. “Is that our cousin?” Nicky asked.

“Yes it is,” you replied happily, tickling Nicky’s shoulder.

“Can I give the baby a hug?”

“Yes but be gentle Nicky.”

Nicky gave both Bob and August a hug before running back to Rooster. Nobody was able to leave without having taken a few pictures on their phones. You and Bob however, didn’t care in the least. The three of you were together.....and would be for the rest of your days.

#top gun maverick #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd top gun #bob x reader #rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #natasha phoenix trace #reuben payback fitch #javy coyote machado #jake hangman seresin #top gun fandom

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superanimepirate · 4 months

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PJO TV SHOW Reaction Episode 4

Alright, time to see how he went from the Arch to the River (As a midwesterner, that always bugged me). As always, at least slight spoilers for potentially future seasons

But first, flashbacks! Baby Percy is scared to swim and that is frankly adorable

This wholesome flashback is now interrupted by a terrifying nightmare

Thalia discussion!!!

Ah Lil Annabeth has a cute sleeping cap

Thalia and Luke! and Little Annabeth! I hope we can see that flashback

Where is grover in their sleeping area?

Ah more Godly Criticism about their shitty ass parenting. And shitty mortal parenting from Frederick and Stepmom

Oh there's Grover. Cute Lil grouchy sleepy Grover

Sorry, these kids are adorable and I am not ready for the horrors they are about to face

Oh sweeties, never try and figure out a prophecy. You'll just get a headache

Centaurs!!! And pollution :( Pan mention!!!

Oh good, Annabeth is speaking truth about the prophecies.

What is up with their cabin?

Oh Annabeth...

Percy, trust me, you don't want to meet the werewolves

Oh! Echidna! So she trashed their room for the bolt? Makes more sense than Zeus sending her to kill Percy and preventing them from getting the bolt tbh

Echidna, you are being very creepy, and cant Grover smell her? Oh but he did figure out the smashed window, good for him

I'm sorry. But cute little Percy is not very intimidating. Don't worry, you'll get there eventually

"This has always been a family story" Yeah i guess that's true. I love this conversation of Monsters and Demigods

Ok nevermind she does want to kill them. Was she sent by Zeus tho?

And Percy got stabbed. That's not good

I love a good ole creepy train scene

Oh, we are making the Arch an Athenian temple? That's pretty cool actually... I think? If we ignore the whole racist/entitled Manifest Destiny aspect of what the arch represents and how it led to the genocide of Native Americans, destruction of nature, and the near eradication of wild buffalo and wolves....

(I just like the idea that monuments are secret temples. I wonder if Hoover Dam is one too. That could actually lead to a whole debate/discussion/headcanons. Is it just Greek? What about the Washington Monument as an Egyptian symbol? What about Leif Erickson in Canada? What about Museums? Is the Statue of Liberty a temple for Libertas?)

Well, at least Annabeth and Grover briefly discussed it the aspect of what it is and the architectural significance vs the historical significance

The poison!

Just uh...casually bath him in the fountain. I don't think the Mist can help much with that

Honestly, if their best plan is to pray to the Gods for help they are kind of fucked and very desperate

Oh wait, they think Athena sent Echidna? Or at least won't help them

Eh, kinda tracks with how horrible the Gods are to Demigods

Ooh, Annabeth vs Chimera? Brave girl but Percy is too loyal for that shit. And Reckless

Go Percy go!

Oh! So the River is just going to grab him. That works. I guess

Honestly if I was the Mississippi River God I would be pretty damn pissed at mortals, that poor river has been through A Lot. I wonder how it worked when the gods came over, was it kinda like when they went to rome and integrated the local gods? Because the Indigenous Tribes already had gods and what not, especially for nature, or is it more like the distinction between Greek/Egyptian/Norse?

Anyways, pretty good episode, the pacing seems a bit weird, but I liked it overall.

#cant relate to the scared of swimming thing tho #ive been swimming in lakes rivers and pools since i was 2 #percy jackson #percy jackson spoilers #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians spoilers #percy jackson tv show #percy jackson tv show spoilers #percy jackson live action #percy jackson live action spoilers #pjo live action #pjo live action spoilers #pjo tv show #pjo tv show spoilers

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codenamehazard · 3 months

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.:The Dam Breaks:.

Chapter 27: The Dam Breaks

[TRIGGER WARNING: SEVERE MENTAL BREAKDOWN, SMALL MENTION OF CORPERAL PUNISHMENT, ANXIETY, MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES, MENTION OF ABILISM, SHITTY PARENT BEING SHITTY, MENTIONS OF BUGS AND SPIDERS.]

Hey guys! Hoooooo man, this is a chapter I've been chomping at the bit to share with you guys ever since I finished it! I hope you guys like this as much I liked writing it! Big shoutout to @rogueshadeaux for helping me with research, brainstorming and being the creator of Jean and Brent Rowland!

Without further ado, let's jump in!

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Warmth runs down my throat as I take a sip of warm water. How long has it been since the chaos that was Pangolin’s transfer into the Poison Ward of this hospital went down? Around 12 hours? With how on edge everybody was, it was hard to tell and it didn’t calm down either.

Sometime earlier, The metal man had walked out into the waiting room to get Mako with a worrying urgency. She got up with no questions asked, but this prompted Dove to jump up and try to blitz through the doors. It took both Kestrel and I to hold the thrashing pigeon back. I actually had to zap him hard enough to knock him out just so that Mako could get through unimpeded.

A squabble followed when Dove came to, the dodo and the bird of prey locked verbal talons as they screamed at each-other. It wasn’t until Kestrel gave a sharp-tongued snap at Dove that he backed down and conceded the argument. Now he was just sitting in the corner, sulking like a child.

I don’t blame the kid, really. If that was my brother, I would be ready to become a one-man demolition team. Though I understand that right now, the best way we can help Pangolin is to stay out of the docs’ way until we’re called upon.

I paid little mind to the plague doctor knock-off as something else has my attention. Kestrel…

Ever since Pangolin was admitted, she hasn’t been acting right. Granted, she’s always been an odd bird, eccentric, but this? This isn’t normal even for her. Pacing back and forth like a trapped zoo animal, fussing with that evil eye bracelet I remember seeing from when we talked in Droptown, sometimes she would flap her hands when she thinks nobody’s looking. She’s silent as a church mouse, something that she just isn’t.

The thing that really had my attention were her steel-blue eyes. Wide and wild, darting from the bay doors to a door painted a cool blue with a moon on it. Back and forth, back and forth, incessantly. Something’s not right in her head and it isn’t just from the fear for her fellow Misfit.

Watching Kestrel pace about with her wild eyes, it made me feel something I haven’t felt in a long ass time. An emotion I didn’t expect to feel. A weight in my stomach, an ache. The sight twists my guts into a knot that claws at me. Worry. I scoff at the sensation and brush it off.

Why should I worry about the girl? She’s a grown woman, she can take care of herself. Besides, it’s a waste of emotional energy. There’s no point in worrying about someone who hates me and who I hate in kind.

Despite my reasoning, the knot remains, so I just ignore it. There’s probably another reason why it’s there.

I turn my head as I hear the door open, seeing Mako and the tin-man… Coyote, was it? I don’t know, so many new names. They were quietly talking among themselves before turning to face us. Kes takes a deep breath and shakes her head, trying to calm herself and hide her… Whatever’s going on in her head, before asking the two about Pangolin’s status.

God, she’s not even sounding right. Her voice is too quiet, despite trying to speak with confidence, her tone’s also…. Restricted, I guess? There’s the kind of cracking that happens when you’re trying to hold something back. Mako and Coyote look at each-other before nodding, Mako stepping up towards us.

“Pangolin’s status has been stabilized, but he’s not out of the weeds yet. That sting from the blink scorpion went into his bones and was wreaking havoc on the marrow. I had to help Crow infuse the anti-corrodium serum directly into his bones without throwing up.” She says with a shudder as Coyote rubs his hand, must have had her hold it during everything. Mako was never a fan of patterned holes. “Thankfully the infusion is working and he’s stable enough to have another visi-”

Before Mako could finish her sentence, Dove leaps up from his seat and practically disappears as he turns into a gust of wind. The only thing that tells me where he is was the movement of objects as he rushes through to be with his brother.

Kes sighs in relief, or rather tries to. Whatever demon she’s fighting in her head is crossing some wires in that brain of hers. The sight is strange, the only thing I could really describe it as is like she’s forgetting how to be a normal person right before my eyes. The wild eyes now damn near flying around in their sockets and her smile becoming more forced by the second.

Coyote and Mako look at each-other worriedly before the shark gives the metal-man a nod. Coyote nods back before heading over and whispering something into Kes’ ear, I try to listen in, but it’s too faint. Whatever he said prompted the girl to make a beeline to that weird moon-door with Coyote hot on her heels.

The man gets in front of Kes and opens the door for her before she shoulder-checks it down and closes it quietly behind her. What happens next…. Makes me nauseous.

Screaming, warped and metallic. Just like back at her shop when Pangolin pushed her too far. Hearing it the first time made me sick and angry but this time it makes my blood run cold and the knot in my stomach grow tighter, the sound of twisting metal inside the room didn’t help either. Without thinking, I push myself off the wall and walk over to the door. Coyote looks at me worried and about ready to go into a defensive stance when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn my head to glare at the offending party. Mako.

“You better have a damn good reason for why I shouldn’t fry you for touching me.” I can hear Shiny getting ready to say something, but Mako holds her hand up.

“Cole, slow your roll for a second. I can explain what’s going on…. Somewhat.” She hums and I try to relax. Eyes glowing intensely as I watch her.

“Kestrel’s having a meltdown.” Mako says with a sigh and I scoff.

“Yeah, I can see that but that doesn’t explain anything.” I snip as I cross my arms, Mako facepalms.

“I was getting to that, Cole.” Mako growls in aggravation. “She’s on the Spectrum.”

“... The internet company?”

“NO!!” The shark bellows out before thumping her hand on her forehead. “The Autism Spectrum. She’s high functioning!”

Autism? That’s a word I haven’t heard in a long time. Last time I heard that word was back when I was in high-school. A classmate of mine fell to pieces in band class after the asshole behind him wouldn’t stop screeching on that damn violin he had. Surprised I didn’t have tinnitus from that asshat alone. The last horrendous squeak had me turning around to deck the fucker when the poor kid just lost it. Threw himself on the ground, covered his ears, started to rock himself to pieces and yelled at the top of his lungs to “shut up” repeatedly. The teacher’s assistant had to help the guy out while the teacher dragged Screechie McFuckface out of the class to give him a verbal lashing.

I remembered asking the assistant what was going on and she told me it had something to do with Autism and then shooed me away so she could focus on getting the kid calmed down… Then I asked my dad about it.

“That’s what damn brats like you become when parents are too soft on them. 16 years old and throwing fucking tantrums like toddlers. Damn kid should have gotten the belt, not a coddle.”

Needless to say that was the last time I talked to Dad about that kid.

With that word associated with Kestrel, things started to make sense.. Things I thought were normal girl things started to line up with things the rocking kid did and even the things that weren’t normal made some sense. How she would get irritated when things she had placed just so would get moved or just people moving her stuff in general. How she avoided certain textures. How she would sometimes stop and stare at the ceiling or at corners at odd times. Even how she couldn’t quite look me in the eyes, always looking at the large scar on the left side of my face. It all made sense.

And now, her screaming also made sense.

“Everything that happened?” Mako continues. “The monsters, the bugs, the big ass spider, Pangolin getting tagged badly, all of that on top of shouldering the physical and emotional burden that comes with taking the lead? It was like a landslide falling into a reservoir. Yeah, the dam can hold it all back for a little bit, but it starts to crack and leak until-”

“-It fails and breaks.” I finish as my brain processes everything, dots connecting in ways I didn’t know were there.

“Mhm.” Mako hums as she nods. “She did well to last as long as she did, but that constant burden of having to always put on a brave face and look like she’s in control is one of the reasons why she wants nothing to do with leadership at all. It would wreak havoc on her mental-state, that’s what she says anyways.”

Mako continues to explain, but at this point my mind begins to focus on something that’s only growing more and more insistent. The knot in the pit of my stomach that I’ve been trying to ignore. The gnawing of worry. It’s damn-near suffocating, but why?!? I don’t worry about people like this unless I care about them, but why am I caring about the bird?! Why do I care? Why am I giving a rat’s left testicle about the freak-out of someone who hates my guts, Autism or not?? Kestrel doesn’t like me, I don’t like her. We both hate each-other, so why should I give a shit?!

The clicking of the door draws my attention as I see Coyote peek into the room, it’s at that point I notice that the screaming has quieted. He walks inside and stays in there for a little before peeking his head out of the door. Signaling for Mako to come over. She nods and ushers me to follow. I walk over to the door to peek in and…

Oh… Fuck…

Kestrel Morrison, the Fiery Gunsmith… She’s just… Sitting in the middle of the floor, anything metal around her twisted and warped from her powers going haywire. A black, fuzzy-looking blanket wrapped around her form as listless eyes gaze out at a wall. Her appearance looked almost sickly with the blanket around her body. Flushed face, cheeks streaked with drying tears that stained the fluff and her expression blank, almost hollow.

The only other time I’ve seen her look that lifeless was after the Mine Incident and it pulled at my heart just as strong.

I turn my head to see Coyote walking over to a shelf and grabbing two large totes full of colorful items. The sound they make when the totes are gently placed near the silent bird told me what they are, the tell-tale rattle of Legos. The metal man quietly opens the totes to show that yep, they were Legos, one’s full of the tried and true bricks, the other was full of more mechanical looking pieces. Bionicles.

The sight of the toys caused the girl to stir, a small turn of her head, a twitch of her lips upwards and the light in her eyes brightening.

Coyote sits down next to Kestrel and begins to build, the bird following suit with her Bionicles, no words spoken, only small looks and the sound of clicking and clacking as they begin to build. With the bricks Coyote builds a small city, showing his skill in architecture. The Gunsmith takes the robotic parts and snaps them together, creating monsters to re-enact favorite kaiju movies in among the growing buildings.

Seeing Kestrel playing quietly with her mechanical creations soothed the knot that ate at my stomach, but a new feeling takes its place. A feeling that makes my blood start to boil, I resist the urge to frown. What the hell? Where did this come from?! The worry is gone, the screaming has stopped! This is the most wholesome sight I have seen in a long-ass time! Kestrel’s fine and she’s just playing Legos with Coyote! I’ve lost track of how many years have gone by since I’ve seen anything remotely this sweet!

Why in the name of GOD is this pissing me off?!?

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