Stardew and the halfas

When Tucker told him that he needed to relax and recommended a game about being a farmer, Danny frowned and pushed him away. How could it help him to know how long tomatoes took to grow?

However, after a restless night, where his parents had shot him (curiously by accident), the halfa noticed the downloaded game on his computer and sighed. It must have been Tucker, but he had nothing to lose by trying.

He never thought that he would become addicted to said game, or that he would want to marry Sebastian (something about him was just- well, attractive, even halfas weren't immune to falling in love). The problem was that his schedule was strange and Sebastian didn't like any of his gifts!

He started to get desperate and visit forums of the game, found someone who had the same problem with Elliot, and somehow they started talking. Jason seemed pretty frustrated, and they bonded out of mutual frustration. Neither of them was willing to consult guidebooks out of simple pride, but they appreciated the recommendations.

So they bonded over Discord calls, trying each other's strategies, and quickly became friends. To the point that they did a farm in multiplayer. They had spent so much time in the game that they both almost forgot their problems in the real world.

After Danny didn't go online for a while, Jason decided to invite him to Gotham. The boy took a few hours to respond but in the end he accepted.

Tim couldn't believe it when he passed a coffee shop and saw Jason laughing with a guy (very suspicious, in a sweater, and what the hell... were those fangs?), they were both very close to each other pointing at something on their phones and laughing .

Switch! (Gundham x Fem! Reader) Part 7

~

Music poured softly from the speakers as you drove home. You’d stayed late at the workshop to finish up a dresser that was being picked up tomorrow. The sun was setting, turning the sky a lovely shade of purple.

You were finally starting to get back into your routine, with a few exceptions. Sonia and Gundham came by to drag you out of your house at least once a week. Sometimes, they just randomly came over to hang out.

Sure, you hung out with them before. You were friends, after all, but you weren’t as close to them, especially not Gundham.

You were almost thankful for the whole switching places thing just because it finally broke down the wall between you two.

It felt like you really were friends now, not just awkward acquaintances. Not to mention, it brought you closer to Sonia too. You found that you actually had more in common with each other than you thought.

You’d both grown up mostly by yourselves. You were in an orphanage, and Sonia’s parents were always busy, so she was raised mainly by her governess, Sarah. You both had felt out of place in your own countries and found a real home here in Japan.

You both shared a strange fascination in the supernatural, though Sonia was the one that actually ventured into it. That was actually how you met Gundham.

Sonia had called you one day, saying she found ‘a master of the dark arts’ that she wanted you to meet. That’s how you were introduced to the mysterious and eccentric Gundham Tanaka.

Looking back on it made you smile. You never could’ve guessed the chaos and good memories that would follow that meeting.

You were knocked out of your thoughts when you reached your house. You parked in the driveway and got out. Winter was coming, and it was cold outside. You were making your way up the little path that led to your front steps when you noticed something.

“Is that..blood?” You crouched down to inspect the red stains on the concrete. The second you did the coppery smell of fresh blood hit you. Then you noticed something else. It wasn’t just that one spot. There was a trail of blood leading up your front steps.

You hesitated before rushing up the front steps, only to freeze completely at what you saw. There was a dog on your doorstep, it’s fur matted with blood.

“Oh shit.”

~Time Skip Brought to You By My Lazy Ass~

You’d called Sonia on the way, and after very frantically explaining the situation, you asked where Gundham lived. She gave you his address and said she’d call him to let him know you were coming.

Sure enough, the second you got there the front door burst open. You wasted no time carefully lifting the dog out of the passengers seat.

“I patched her up as best as I could, but I wanted to make sure she’s gonna be okay. Please tell me she’s gonna be okay.” You pleaded, already on the verge of tears.

“Come inside.”

You nodded and followed after him quickly. Neither of you spoke as Gundham checked over your work on the wound. After a minute, he gave an approving nod and looked to you.

“You did well, mortal. This hellbeast-“

“Mavis.”

“Excuse me?”

“Her name is Mavis.”

He blinked several times, wondering if he’d imagined that. “You..named her?”

You nodded awkwardly. “I was panicking. It was something to calm myself down.”

Again, he stared at you for a moment before looking back to Mavis.

He cleared his throat. “She will thrive again once she has healed. For now” He got to his feet and guided you into the kitchen. He turned on the sink and turned to you, motioning to your arms, and you suddenly realized how crazy you must look.

Your forearms and shirt were smeared with blood, and you moved to the sink. Gundham disappeared for a minute, and you washed your hands and arms, watching in a grim kind of fascination as the water ran red.

Once you were done, you dried your arms and straightened up. You heard footsteps approaching you, and when you turned around, Gundham stepped through the kitchen doorway.

“Here, you may wear this.” He held out black sweater to you. “Some mortals will make accusations if you traipse around covered in blood.”

You thanked him as you took it, and he turned away from you so you could swap shirts.

The sweater was big on you, falling off one shoulder and dipping just below your collarbones. You rolled the sleeves up until you could at least see your fingers. It was warm and soft, and you smiled as you thanked him again.

He turned to face you again before pausing. He turned on the sink long enough to dip his fingers under it before turning it off again.

“What are you-“

He held your head gently and ran his thumb across your cheek. While he was occupied, you just looked at him. You’d always been fascinated by his eyes. When you first met him, you assumed he wore contacts, but no, his eyes were really like that. You’d heard many people call them strange, but you found them weirdly beautiful.

You found Miu’s words coming back to you.

“How do you feel about Gundham?”

You weren’t lying when you said you’d never thought about it, but now that you were thinking about it, you couldn’t help but wonder, as well.

How did you feel about Gundham?

You felt something brush your leg, and when you looked, you found Mavis sitting beside you, tail brushing the floor as it wagged. You smiled and crouched down to pet her. “Hey there.” You greeted her happily. “How ya feelin’?”You giggled when she licked your face.

“What tribe did you belong to?”

You stared up at him for a long moment, eyebrows drawn together in confusion before your eyes lit up. “Oh! Are you asking if I’ve ever had a pet?”

“I believe that is how the mortals refer to it.”

You smiled and went back to petting Mavis. “I used to have a dog. My foster mother, Hinako, got her on the same day that she adopted me. We grew up together, but she passed away a while back.”

Knowing she was gone still stung, but you had so many good memories with her that you couldn’t help the way your heart warmed. “I wish you coulda met her. I think she woulda loved you.”

Maybe he sensed your sadness, but Gundham crouched down beside you, petting Mavis gently. “I see she was very loved.”

The words were enough to bring the smile back to your lips. “She still is loved.”

Gundham had a soft kind of smile on his face. It was just barely there, but it was somehow the most genuine smile you’d ever seen from him.

“Hey, can I ask you something kind of personal?”

He shot you a curious glance before nodding.

“What happened to your father?”

He paused, hand hanging briefly in mid air before he resumed petting Mavis. “He was slain in a car accident.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

He just waved his hand dismissively. “Do not be. I do not miss him.”

“Huh?”

Gundham’s expression turned stony, his eyes glowing coldly. “He was cruel to my mother and I.”

You hesitated, wondering if you really wanted to push, but you wanted to know. You wanted to be there for Gundham. “Was he..?”

You didn’t have to finish because Gundham knew what you were thinking.

“Yes. He was abusive.” He admitted somberly.

Your hand stilled in Mavis’ fur. “...So those scars on your arms and shoulders..Were they from him?”

“So you saw them.”

It wasn’t really a question, but you nodded anyway. He sighed softly.

“Yes, they were his doing.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes, and they slid down your cheeks before falling to the floor. You lunged at him and wrapped your arms around him, effectively knocking him backwards.

He stiffened up, but you didn’t let go, and eventually, he curled his arms around your waist. He patted you softly on the back until your crying died down to little sniffles, and you pulled away, wiping at your eyes.

You smiled bashfully, feeling a bit embarrassed by your outburst. “Sorry about that.”

“There is no need to apologize.” He assured you. “It was..nice.” He murmured, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it.

You quickly realized that you were practically in his lap, and heat flared in your cheeks. Suddenly, there was fur in your face as Mavis burrowed in between you two, licking Gundham’s face before moving to lick yours too. You burst into a fit of hiccupy giggles, almost falling over from the weight of it as you got up.

You held out your hands to him, and when he took them, you pulled him up with an amount of ease that surprised him.

“You are stronger than you appear.

You raised your chin and grinned playfully. “Don’t mind me. Just the female Hercules.” You flexed very dramatically, and it was well worth it because Gundham laughed. Not the maniacal laugh or that deep chuckle. This was a full blown, unrestrained laugh, the kind that made your shoulders shake and your eyes water.

You just stared at him in complete awe. “Damn.”

At first, he thought you were disgusted by his laugh; then, he raised his eyes to find you grinning wider than he’d ever seen. Your eyes seemed to shine when you smiled like that. They crinkled at the edges, turning into little crescent moons.

“You have a beautiful smile.”

He didn’t even realize he’d said it out loud until you flushed and looked away from him, smile turning shy.

“Th-Thank you.”

He felt his own face reddening, so he quickly changed the subject. “Do you wish to keep her?”

You looked down at Mavis and did something that surprised him.

“What do you wanna do?” You asked her.

To your surprise the fluffy white dog stood up on her hind legs, placing her paws on your stomach, her tail wagging wildly behind her.

You grinned and ruffled her fur, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll take that as a yes, okay?”

Mavis barked happily, earning a giggle from you and a satisfied smile from Gundham. He always loved seeing an animal go to a good home, and when he remembered the terrified look in your eyes as you held Mavis, he knew she would thrive in your care.

Bray Road - Fox Mulder x nonbinary!reader part 7

TW: Remains

-

It was so interesting how different things can change how you feel. On (Y/N)’s cheek they could feel the soft cotton their dad’s blue sweater he liked to wear. They remembered laying their head on his shoulder after they fell asleep in the car on a long trip. On their right, their fingertips brushed an objected that made them remember their mother’s wedding ring. They remembered fiddling with it as a small child, moving it from side to side on their mother’s finger because it was too big for her slender digits. They smiled to themself, surrounded by familiar feelings and senses. 

But...how?

(Y/N)’’s blood ran cold as they opened their eyes and was met with the skeletal face of their father. Looking to their left, they saw their fingers playing with their mother’s wedding ring on her skeletal hand. (Y/N) screamed, scrambling across the dirt floor to move away from the remains of their parents. Both of their clothes were in tatters, covered in blood, bugs and rats crawling through the skeletons. Roots of trees rooted them to the dirt walls Their bones were brown, their hair was straw like and white. 

“I thought you would like to see them.” Winterfield came from the shadows, much less hairy than he had been earlier that night, “Give you the closure you deserve. Twenty-five years of waiting to find them.” He walked towards them with his arms behind his back, he wore black sweatpants but was bare everywhere else. Their eyes were brought to their arm, a cotton swab was tapped to their arm, tell-tale signs of an injection. (Y/N) glared at him.

“What did you do to me?!” 

“I gave you what you needed!” He came closer, “I gave you the ability to become stronger, faster, healthier. To be perfect.” 

“I don’t want to be a monster!” 

He chuckled at their words, “A monster. That is exactly what I said to my maker. I was only fourteen when I was turned. I was a weak, frail child, sickly. I was dying and my family brought us to our lake house for one last vacation. And that’s when he found me and made me what I am. He made me strong again, so strong that I killed him myself after my bloodlust started attracting the locals and he called me dangerous. I realized after that that I needed no one, so I killed my family. But I became lonely, I wanted to share this gift that been given to me. I decided that I would make more, taking children like you and make them strong, for them to realize their true potential. It took years of trial and error, but finally I perfected the transformation. By introducing canine DNA into their systems, they were more likely to take to the gift.” He kneeled down in front of them, “You were my vision. A sickly child that could be healed by the transformation. But your parents took you away. I had to get rid of them, you understand.” He stood again, “They would not let you get better.” He grabbed a hold of their arm and tugged them into standing, “Just one bite. And you’ll be like me.” He looked up and they followed his gaze above, a lattice work of roots on the roof of the cave, revealing the moon near its peak. He looked back down, bringing their arm closer to his mouth where sharp teeth. 

“Wait!” They said, causing him to pause with his mouth open. 

“You want this to be perfect, don’t you? You should wait until the moon is as its highest.” (Y/N) rambled. 

“You’re right.” He smiled, dropped their arm, “I should also prepare what you’ll have as your first kill. But then again, once the thirst starts, it won’t end well for your partner. I am so glad you finally understand. And soon, we will see the world through the same eyes.” He made his way back into the shadows. 

(Y/N) bought Mulder time, but would it be enough?

- 

After getting back out of the woods, Mulder led the Elkhorn sheriff’s department back to Winterfield’s home, the idea being that he would take her back to the cellar where the other body was found. But maybe... that wasn’t the case. He made an abrupt right turn onto Stuart Drive. 

“Where the hell are you goin’, agent?” The sheriff’s voice crackled in over the walkie talkie they had given him. 

“Bray road has been this guy’s feeding ground, I think he’s taken (Y/N) there to turn them. Once they becomes a beast, they’ll associate the road with food, he’s starting the cycle over with (Y/N).” 

“Bray road goes out for miles, how are we going to find them?” He asked. 

Mulder thought a moment, “We spread out in a fifty mile radius around the site of the most recent killings. I think that he took Jason there before dumping him back on the road since he was the only one left alive.” 

When they made it to the area, the officers surrounded Mulder as they looked over a map. 

“We start here and branch out. Please use your weapons with the silver bullets, your regular rounds will not work. We are looking at a monster, not a man. He is to be treated as an on-site shot. He is extremely dangerous and will kill you. Agent (Y/L/N) is top priority. Go out in pairs and keep your flashlights on when it gets dark.” He sent the officers on their way. The sheriff came up to him, cocking his shotgun. 

“Lead the way, Agent Mulder.” 

-

After a while into their search of the woods, the sheriff spoke up. 

“So, do you think he’s already... bit, Agent (Y/L/N)?” Mulder had put off thinking of this, not wanting imagine them turning into a monster. Thinking about it though, (Y/L/N) was smart. Smart enough to get him on a case with them when he would only work with Scully or alone. (Y/N) believed in the truth and fought for the justice that their family deserved. He looked up at the sky, seeing the moon was getting closer to its apex. 

“(Y/L/N) is smart, I’m sure they bought us some time.” He said, then tripped over a root in the ground. The sheriff caught him by the shoulder and steadied him. 

“Whoa, there, Agent. Gotta watch out for those roots. These trees have root systems that go out for miles, they can make some pretty big sink holes too.” He said. Mulder looked down at the thick tree root that caught his shoe and an idea popped into his head. 

“Are there any large sinkholes in this area?” Mulder asked. 

“I do believe, about a mile or so that’a’way.” The sheriff motioned to the west. 

“I got a hunch.” Mulder said, the both of them making their way towards the sinkhole. 

When they made it to the sink hole, they found a large gaping hole in the Earth, there were deep grooves around the rim that seemed to be created in a clawing motion. 

“I think this is where he’s been hiding,” The sheriff was down on one knee, looking at the foot prints in the soft dirt, “Looks like he’s left here recently, but he could be back at any second. You go down there and get Agent (Y/L/N), I’ll keep watch.” He stood. Mulder nodded, carefully scaling down the wall on the sink hole using roots and natural footholds in the dirt. He go the bottom, and flashed his light down to reveal a tunnel. If (Y/L/N) was any where, here was probably a good place to search. 

He made his way until he saw light again, a voice caused him to pause. 

(Y/N) was sat against the wall of the cave, watching the moon move across the sky. Winterfield would be back any minute and they would turn into a monster just like him. Tears burned in their eyes as they looked back at their parents. One of their father’s arms had been ripped away and half of their mother’s face gone. 

“I’m sorry.” They said, biting their lip to try and stop crying, “I promised you I would never come back here. But I had to find you. I had to find the truth.” They hiccupped and laughed sadly, “I guess I did it though. The mystery is solved. But I’m going to be a monster just like him.” 

“(Y/L/N)?” They stood up quickly at the voice, fearing that Winterfield was back. But to their overwhelming joy, Fox Mulder appeared in the moon light. 

“Mulder.” (Y/N) breathed out, running to greet him at the tunnel mouth, wrapping their arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. After the excitement subsided, they realized they were hugging their superior and that really wasn’t appropriate-

Mulder pulled them closer, hugging them around their waist. They were quite sure he could feel their heart pounding. He created space between the two, placing his hand on their cheek. His green eyes were filled with happiness and his sly smile graced his face. 

“You found me.” They whispered, leaning into his touch. 

He nodded, “Yeah, us spooky people gotta stick together.” He looked over, seeing the skeletons in the corner. 

“Is that...?” 

They pulled away, and looked at them, “Yeah, that’s mom and dad.” 

“I promise. We’re going to give them the proper funeral.” He said. 

“I’m afraid, Agent Mulder.” Both the agents frozen at the growling voice that came from the shadows of the tunnel, “The only funeral will be yours.”

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

Read the final part here!

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Irresistible

Summary: basically the reader like Deadpool and Deadshot and well, Deathstroke. Let's just a few tweaks from all of three of them. And let's say Billy Butcher sort of loves the wild card type of woman as well.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x Supe!Reader

A/N: I figured this might be interesting for Butcher to have. Gonna admit, I used google translator for the Arabic. Sorry if it's wrong. Also remember the reader mainly gonna be like Deadpool, you'll have to expect some dirty language! Not mention I had to, because Deadpool's humor hilarious. Originally I had this edited, but Tumblr messed up, again. And I'm too lazy for it.

Being a product of a lab wasn't the best. Besides the point when they decided to throw you in an orphanage. Where you spent your days hating life because no one ever wanted you. Than before you knew it, you ended up being adopted in middle school. All because you picked pocket the wrong person, a man who was blind. His name was Idris Salah a man from Egypt. Little did you know, he knew from being a US Marines before. A lonely man who took it upon himself to spend time with you. Where you learned self defense, he pushed you to use it for good instead of bad. Even made you learned more skills that were useful. You could say he was your father figure.

It should also be mentioned he didn't force religion on you or anything. But Idris wasn't very religious himself either, but was somewhat. He mainly taught you what it was like to have family, hes a good man. A man who's side you still stick with.

Like when both of you found you were a product of Vought, and than when it came out all superheros were made in labs. And you found out you were one of them. Idris was the one who told you it didn't make you any less of who you were. Which was a superhuman. What could you do though?

Well, you had regenerative healing no matter what. But you had low leveled enhancement, with strength, stamina, agility. But you had enhanced eyesight and dexterity and had excellent marksmanship. Skilled with swords. Immunity to diseases and chemicals. Than on top of it you learned Spanish, Arabic, Japanese, Urudu and a couple of others. You mainly spoke Arabic with Idris to not lose that.

And ever since you became an adult, things took a different turn. Before you knew it you became a mercenary somewhat. Which lead you ending up working for other people for money. Paying your and Irdis's bills and groceries and saving for his retirement. And than becoming a parent didn't help.

You had a daughter, and you let her stay with her father. He refused to give you full custody knowing what you can do. Her name was Samara, but liked to be called "Ara." She liked being called that for some reason. Perhaps it had a better ring to her? You're not sure but she was one of the most important people to you.

Today was suppose to be the normal. Normal as in do your usual assassinations of who ever. Send a message to whoever. Anything that was scheduled for your job. This who were, nothing else. After dropping Ara at school you headed to the park apparently a client wanted to disgust a business opportunity.

Wearing a dark gray sweater with black pants and boots. With some makeup to your eyes pop out than there was a backpack on your back. Black shades on your eyes. Sitting on park bench leaning your back against it. In the middle of Central Park in early October. Let's say you looked badass even with casual wear, and you bet your ass you knew it too.

Some sat behind you, you could sense it despite your back turned. "Chilly day isn't it?" You hear a feminine voice say. Shrugging your shoulders in response.

"Indeed. Nothing compare to the weather in a few months" you remark glancing around the area. Making sure no one else was around in a earshot.

"Agree. NYC in winter one of the worst places to drive" she remarks back to you. "If I'm correct, your Death Strike correct?" She inquires to you in response. That makes you laugh pulling a cigarette out not lighting it. Just biting down on it still appreciating the ritual.

"One and only" you remark. Touching the paper of the cigarette. Enjoying the taste of non smoked tobacco. Simply enjoying it to remain less stressed at the point. "Have a job for me sweetheart?"

A chuckle came from her at this point. "Madelyn Stillwell CEO of Vought International, and boy, or should I say boys, do I have a job for you. You might like this one than your usual. You interested?" She inquires to you with a grin.

"Is there money involved?" You remark with a smirk.

"Lots of money," she remarks. "Come back to Vought International with me, we'll disgust." Reluctantly you agreed following her as she made casual conversation with you. Soon enough taking off her coat and bringing you to a meeting room.

Never did you expect yourself to be in the Seven's floor, ever. Moving to the meeting room you than spotted the one, the only, Homelander. Scout boy that Vought tried to present to the world, but you knew it was a lie. No one was ever a good two shoes, especially someone with his gifts. Homelander noticed your presence and made eye contact seizing your up. "Makan jamil" you say in Arabic observing the place.

"You speak Arabic too? Your file never said that." Stillwell comments to you.

"Learned it when I was twelve," you remark back. "Let's disgust business. I'll get it done soon a possible," you say to her.

"Wait a minute before we start. You're the mercenary, Death Strike?" Homelander inquires to you making you chuckle.

"Blondie, what did you expect? A man six foot and bald?" You grin in response. Taking the fake cigarette out of your mouth placing it in your pant pocket. "Sorry to be a disappointment."

Homelander flashed his Hollywood in your direction. "Its just, your too pretty to be a mercenary. Figured you to be a model or well, a bartender something more common." He remarks back to you with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Flattering will get you everywhere" you turned away to hide your smile. "Don't let me deceive you, I'm quite the wild card type" replying to him. This seem to catch his interest.

"I wouldn't underestimate her," Stillwell pipes up. "Shes never missed a shot. Killing her isn't a solution either" she comments. Before her gaze meeting yours. "I've gone through some old Vought files. You were registered under a different name, I believe it was Wilson or something as your surname. Took a while, but you're basically immortal. Regenerative abilities with immunity to many chemicals and diseases. Everything just grows back, like an axolotl. Others think your a psychopath or not mentally all there. Some believe she had the ability to manipulate bullets. Mind telling me that if that's true?" She shrugged your shoulders again that.

"I'm just here for my contract and money. Now who do you want killed?" You remark getting right down to business. "Need guys balls smacked into reality? How about nice bullet to massage their head?" You inquire to them. "Which one, I have a variety options!" Awaiting the answer. Leaning your waist against the table.

Both of them glanced at each other before Homelander leaned forward. "Perhaps for now, I need you to teach a lesson to someone. Someone named William "Billy" Butcher. We want you to send the guy to message, anything of your picking." Butcher, interesting surname in your opinion.

Must've been the temperamental type, it had to be a trait in the family. Why else would there ancestors gain the surname Butcher? "Got it. He should be an interesting one, Butcher. Twist of his balls should turn change his mind about doing whatever hes been doing to piss you off." You remark, "I'll expect the money to be in my account in about let's say, by at least eight tonight. Won't be long before I have him in my sights." You say heading to the elevator of the tower. About to take a turn at the elevator. "Hope I see you around blondie" winking with a charming smile. Leaving knowing you've caught the interest of the American golden boy.

Having fun with it when you could was great. Might as well take advantage make sure your rememberable, and you know you are. Heading out of Vought International you headed straight to be loft. Idris sat in the recliner listening to the radio with his cane by him. "(Y/N)? What took you so long? Actually, I'd figured you be at the bar by now." Idris says not turning his head.

"Oh you know, I had to go tickle someones ball. Had to put my hand to work, give a little anal" you remark. To feel Idris stare and turning to see the expression on his face. "I'm kidding! Had another business opportunity. Have a date with a Mr. Butcher, give him a nice signal maybe convince him to doll himself up for me."

"Sometimes I question why no orphanage doesn't give a receipt" Idris comments to himself.

"Than who would annoy you?" You remark as you grab your suit and mask and weapons. Only to hear the remark of a annoyed sigh from Idris. "I'll be back" you say to mimick Arnold Schwarzenegger from Terminator. It only takes a few minutes to get the suit on and the weapons.

Your suit was a body tactical that had two colors on it in general. That had gloves and boots that went well, a friend name Ferret designed it. Your suit mostly had a scheme that matched the color of Mars which is an iron oxide color. With some orange on it and dark black on it. Mostly having a belt around you holding your handguns. Than two wakizashi. Let's say your suit matched a certain mercenary that didn't want to join the boy band of the X-men and a hitman part of a Suicide Squad. But you know one thing for sure, you're more badass than those two. Than your mask was plain with those schemes with eye shaped holes. On your right eye was a red scope. Gadgets were even on your belt, that should be mentioned.

Grabbing your backpack with a sniper slinging it on your back. Than hid a knife in your boot just in case. Heading out you called a favorite Uber driver of yours, his name is Deshpande. Why was he your favorite? He never questioned why you had these weapons. Simply drove while making casual conversation.

And let me tell you, this guy was epic for an average joe! As you waited on the sidewalk to see the usual little green car pull up. Getting in the passenger seat of the car. "Hello Deshpande" you say at the scrawny man beside you in the driver seat.

"Hello Ms. Strike, how is your day?" He says as he begins to drive.

"Oh, you know the usual. New job, but today I just have to make a guy shit his pants and its over and done with." You casually say sitting back into the seat. "How was your day?"

"Well my girlfriend is great. She keeps pressuring me to get a haircut" he comments. To where you pull out your found watching the red dot that you've gotten on your target. "She thinks my hair is too long. But other than that things have been great!" He comments with a bright smile.

"Oh! So my advice worked from last time. Told you so" you lightly push him. "Your too cute to resist for her." You remarked to him proudly.

"I am very grateful for your assistance Ms. DS," he remarks back. "My girlfriend and I have been happy ever since I threatened my romantic rival. And I scared him away from ever contacting her," he says with a complete innocent smile. Yes, you gave him advice to terrorize the fellow away, but it worked in his favor. Not like either one of you cared though, not like anyone would stop you.

"I'm so proud of you. I feel like a parent, well I am one. But one towards my own son!" You say with your hand over your heart. A little tear slipped out from under your suit. Than he pulled up to two buildings with an alleyway in between each. "Okay, Deshpande, I need you to wait here. Because I'll need a ride back, and I will give you the money for being my getaway driver and all. Wait here, and do not panic. Be back in a sec!" You cheerfully say before exiting the car. Than climb up on the roof of one building. Sitting down you sit above the alleyway and take your sniper out. Than glance at your phone to see a transaction of around 1,000,000 added to it. With a smirk you relax and adjust your gun in the right position.

While waiting you begin to whistle a song like a bird casually. Than spot a group of men walking out into the alley. "Butcher would you just listen!?" One muscular says trailing after the guy with the long jacket and dark hair.

"Give me a good reason why!" He remarks back in a rough accent. You had to admit, he's cute. And than that accent was the icing on the cake! It was like magic to you. Good thing you didn't have to kill the guy. Beginning to aim you targeted his shoulder and steadied yourself at the target. As they continued on rambling your finger snaked to the trigger. Than at the open opportunity you shot and moved fast. Slinging the sniper around you and racing to the direction of Deshpande and using rope to go down to the ground. Cussing could be heard as you raced to the car.

Deshpande surprised at you holling ass into the car, once you got in stepped on it. Amused you laughed still hearing cussing from the target. But it didn't mean they didn't see you. Kimiko ended up on the roof where you were before, and searched the area. Hughie on the other hand was flipping out while Frenchie was trying to apply pressure on the wound. From the bullet hole it was deep but not deep enough for fatal damage. Blood was covering the shirt though and jacket.

MM raced to find any sign of the car he heard racing away. But that was merely only a couple of hours ago. Frenchie managed to get the bullet out and they cleaned Billy's wound. Billy on the other hand was furious, whoever this person it must've been from the cunts at Vought. Particularly Homelander sending him a message. He immediately was out on a hunt despite the protest of Hughie trying to reason with them. That perhaps Vought forced you to do this, Butcher thought otherwise. A inside job like this was a willing one, if they really wanted someone forced it would've been Black Noir who did it.

Nah, you agreed to it willingly for the money they gave you. And you must've known something about them, he wanted to find out. So when Billy a couple days later found out where he could find you, he took the opportunity. Now he figured whoever this guy was, he was gonna beat them up than get answers. It had to be a guy named Wade or Lloyd some douchebag name like that.

Walking in the bar it was partly empty but somewhat not. Light music played in the background as he walked in. Guys at the bar smoked and talked amongst themselves. Cigarettes filled the air as he began to glance around the area. For some reason he was expecting the guy to show up any time. As he leaned his side into the bar table a the bartender glanced at him. It was some tall guy with long hair and a beard but nerd looking. He also had glasses with somehow a nerdy style. "Give me a scotch will you?" He says to the bartender.

In the corner he spotted a woman. Wearing a dark orange fleece with white fur and long diem skirt and a plain cream fleece shirt could be seen. Than a pair of matching light brown boots. Her hair was (y/h/l) that was (y/h/c) it was a nice style on her, she rocked it better than most woman, well some looked great with it but she owned it in his eyes. Butcher watched as she threw darts at he board all without having to pause for a brief moment. Each one seen out of instinct and well lots of practice.

One last dart glided through the air and hit the center of the dart bored. Chugging the rest of your margarita and took the darts down before heading to bartable. "Instead of a margarita make it something different, surprise me." You remark to the bartender.

"I'm surprised your not a drunk by now" he comments.

"Ferret, my dear good friend, alcohol doesn't affect me and we know this. Not like it could kill my liver either" you remark. Taking the cigarette that was on your ear off of it.

"Right, sort of unfair though. Anyway drink coming up!" He says turning away to make a mixture. You put the cigarette in your mouth and dig in your pocket for the lighter. Than bring it to the tip of the orange strip of it. With a click you attempt to light to which it doesn't after a few tries.

"Im 'arghab fi altadakhiyn ealaa 'ayi hal" you mutter to yourself tossing the lighter in your pocket.

"Need a light, love?" You suddenly hear than turned to see the guy from a couple of days ago, Butcher. What a coincidence, especially since you admitted to yourself you found the target attractive. Did he know who you were? Probably not, no one ever really knows. Taking the cigarette out you keep it tucked between your fingers out to him. He lites it to which you bring it to your lips.

Puffing out a small cloud of smoke soon enough. "Thanks" you remark to him. "I don't really smoke often so I forget to refuel my lighter," you say before placed in front of was your drink. A nice from what it smelt like an New Zealand beer before tasting it.

"No problem," he remarks back to you. "What was that you were speaking? I don't recognize it." He comments facing forward.

"Arabic" you answer. "My adoptive father speaks it, he taught me that." You comment taking in a bit of the cigarette before bellowing the smoke out.

"Really? Must be a swell guy."

"He is for a sassy old man." You remark back in a chuckle. To which Butcher also chuckles at also.

"Billy Butcher, and you are?" He inquires to you.

"Margot Robbie" you remark with a smirk. Than see his facial expression full of disbelief at that. A laugh escapes you, than stop "kidding. Its (Y/n)," you say with a shit eating grin on your face.

"Lovely name" he remarks.

"I suppose." You remark back him. "So" you pause than bit your lip a bit "come here often?" A laugh croaked out the man with an accent.

"Not really, waiting for someone." He remarks back to you.

"Oh?" You say already knowing the answer. With your other hand snaking away and reach near your knife hidden. "May ask whom?" You inquire to him. Attempting to hide your grin and remain serious.

"Some guy who shot me. Found intel that he'll be here any second" he says not paying attention to your expression. Biting your tongue, not too hard to keep a laugh from breaking out. "Wait I until I punch the cunt in the face for the damage he's caused."

He thinks your a man? Why does everyone think your a man? Is this considered sexist or just someone boldly assuming without considering? Did you look guy with a suit on? How the heck was this happening? You'd think they'd thought they'd remember some hot chick like yourself. Oh well, it's easier to deceive them this way. "He must've really made it on your shit list for you want to find him." You comment still trying to hide your smirk from emerging.

"The cunt shot me and ran off" he retorts back. Cunt? He really favored that word apparently, but hey, you've been called worst. "Coward, that's what he wants. And he missed! What a lousy shot. What a bad hitman." He remarks back to which that clicked for you. Immediately snaking your blade out you held it against his throat. Taking in a big sip from your drink finishing it before placing it back down.

Keeping a grip on your knife and put your cigarette in the near ashtray. "I never miss" you darkly comment. "I meant to shoot your arm. To left where purposely missed a major artery an your broken. Could've given you a fatal injury to where a surgeon would have to repair that bone of yours." You explained slyly with a dark glint your eyes. Yeah, this guy was cute but you wouldn't let him down talk you. From how close you were without realizing it, Billy could smell your shampoo and conditioner. Milk and honey scented it over took you entirely making you smell sweet. "By the way, I'm actually a mercenary. I only do a few hitman jobs" you say. Turning your gaze to him to where your eyes met. "But it's not my fault you ended up on my naughty list" you comment.

"I knew you were a girl" he says with a grin. "Rough childhood, love? Oh right, you answered it already. Orphans always have problems, huh? What did mommy and daddy go out for milk?" He says trying to set you off, which your sure is the last thing he wanted to experience.

"They dropped me off at a fire station after trying to leave me high and dry at an hospital. A firetruck almost ran me over, and a homeless man almost peed on me" you remark.

"(Y/n)" Ferret says giving you a look. "If your gonna fight this guy take it outside this time, please? You have that crazed look in your eye, it makes me nervous. Its like for me seeing a bull head to the China shop" he comments. Casually just standing there behind the bartable.

"It'll be fine" you remark back. "I'll be gentle" you reply.

"You talkative, huh? If only I could sow your pretty little mouth shut." He remarks to you that makes you chuckle.

"They've already tried that with someone liked me" before clicking your tongue "it didn't go well." You comment with a light shrug of your shoulders.

"Highly doubt that" he remarks. "It should of been a field for them!" He grins to you.

"Perhaps if you like a sucky movies" you sarcastically say. "The movie was awful" you remark. "Anway, I have way better things to do than sit here and argue with you, Butcher. Lovely accent though!" Before wiping out a fuzzy pair of cuffs. "Don't judge me either" before cuffing him to the bartable with his left wrist. Stepping back off of the bar stool and dropping a few dollar bills for Ferret. "Don't you look lovely with fuzzy leopard printed cuffs!" You grin highly amused at this. To meet the grumpy face of the English accented man.

"You fucking cunt" he growls at you.

"I know honey, I'm great. Catch you on the flip side Billy" you tapped his nose with your finger. "Your adorable by the way" with a cocky smirk overtaking your face. Before walking out with a howl of laughter as you leave the bar. Oh, Billy wanted payback, but at the same time he was sort found you interesting despite the chatterbox in you.

___

When Billy tracked you down once more his blood was pumping. Excitement was sort of in him as at the thought of catching you. Despite most of the other members of the Boys thinking it was over between you two, they didn't know about Billy's slight interest in you. Part of him denied it but found it utterly thrilling the dynamic between you two. Sort of like messing with a forest fire, it was hot and it'll spread but he wanted to fan the flames. Hughie was confused when he saw the sudden spark in Butcher, but didn't figure it out what could cause it. Billy was quick to leave without a second word when he came across something on his laptop.

Soon enough he was dashing out with his heart pumping wildly. Going to the location given he was surprised to end up at some random place. An apartment building? What could you possibly be doing here? He would've head in until he saw a guy fly out. There you were a tight leather orange outfit that outlined your curves. Your hair was pulled back in a ponytail and your mask was up resting on your head. In your hand was a pepperoni pizza with a lot of cheese on it. "You know Dick, ha I can never get over that nickname. Dick. Just so funny," you say almost taunting manner as you walk to the guy on the ground. "I've heard of stalkers before, but your something else. Kiddnapping some poor lady dog! You monster." You crouch in front of him still munching on the pizza. "All because she said no to getting in your car. Aww, what stupid things we do when were young" you grin. "Listen here bub, I'm not here to kill you, unless Kiu calls it. But what I will tell you, since she said no blasting your brains out, I'm gonna do one simple thing. Wanna know?" You inquire with a grin. Shaken the guy let's out a whimper at this side of you. You pull out a knife and direct it at his family jewels. "I will cut off your manhood if I had to, but since she was generous to you, I'll let you go." Moving the knife away the guy was about to run before directed it at his Adam apple. "But know this, if Kiu calls me again about a pest problem, I will not hold back next time. Got it?" You say to just than finish your pizza but still hold a threatening manner in your eyes. The guy nods before you stand up. "Scram, before I change my mind. And give the dog back!" Quickly seeing the guy sprint to car and drive away fast.

Pulling the mask back on you dust your glove off and begin to walk away. Billy was surprised by this, your a mercenary but not only that a person with a heart. From what it hes just seen you protected a young woman from a crazed stalker apparently. Did you do these things often? He shook his head at it though. Now was the time to get you. You weren't paying attention until you were tackled to the ground.

About to fight the person off your wrist were grabbed and slammed to the ground. Than met the cocky grin of Billy fucking Butcher. "Hello love" he remarks back.

Smirking you held back a giggle but if peeked out a bit. "Man, this sucks. I usually prefer being on top," you say with a cocky grin. Billy was quick to grab you by the throat and slam you against the wall. "Kinky." You comment with a shit eating grin. "Could you go a little harder, can't you daddy?" Fake moaning at this predicament you've ended up in.

"For such a pretty face you have its hard not want to punch your fucking lights out" he remarks back to you.

"Trust me, pretty sure you'd love to see my lights get brighter" you remark back.

"In your dreams" he remarks back. "How much did Vought pay you for your hit? Did they know you missed my head?" He inquires to you.

"They paid me a million. All for you to mind your own dang business" you remark back. Than noticed the rain gutter pipe. "Nothing more than that handsome" you grin at the idea entering your head.

"Really? That's it?" He says unimpressed.

"What did you expect from them? There trying to play nice. But hey, I didn't care at first about the job. Than they mentioned money, and well money a nice thing to have to pay bills, you know?" You say preparing legs. "Still glad I didn't have my bullets kiss your brain either, darling." With still a cocky grin wiped on your face. "I really appreciate this cat and mouse dynamic between us. It's sort too irresistible to resist, well like me."

"Really? I think someone like yourself more likely has a thing for being tied up." He says with a victorious grin at you as if he won. You bucked your hips which caught him off guard. Than you kneed him in the junk and punched him across the face. Your hair that was tied in a ponytail fell apart partly getting your face. Than you took a grappling hook and tied his hands to the rain gutter pipe out. Tying his hands to the back of his head to it enough to where he could sit at least. Laughing at this defeat you take his phone and snap a picture of him. "Hey! What do you think your doing?" He inquires to you. Than your quick to send it to recent contact which is marked as Hughie.

"And frankly, I think you have a thing for being tied up in particularly by me" you remark tossing the phone by his knee. Than kneel in front of him. "But who doesn't after all?" You shrugged before packing his cheek and turned on your heels and pull your mask on. "Can't wait until the next time you find me again!" You wave with the back of your hand. Laughing to yourself as you saw Deshpande pulling up in his car. "Hataa almarat alqauidmat, eazizi!" Billy couldn't believe he ended up in this situation again. To think he had you, but fell for your charm, but he couldn't help it, it was hypnotic. Like a drug, but he couldn't wait to chase you down again.

casanova - Steve x Reader

pairing: Steve x Reader

summary: You try to save Steve from himself when he gets a little too drunk at a party. 

word count: 2.3k

warnings: angst!!!, self doubt, alcohol, drugs, party scenes

a/n: yes I know y'all want fluff and I keep feeding you angst I am so sorry 

===

You watched Steve from afar once you filled a red plastic cup with water, passing it off as straight vodka.

You’d never drink straight vodka, but it worked.

Steve had begged you to come with him to a party, to get fucked up, to let loose. It had been three weeks since Nancy left him for Jonathan, and three weeks since Bob Newby died, and the Gate was closed. Steve was spiraling, and fast. He was always one to want to be the center of attention, but he had become even more desperate for any kind he could get. You were just thankful Billy kept a large distance between them – or you were pretty sure Steve would beat the shit out of him. Steve’s face had only just healed, and his memory was failing him, but he refused to get checked out – he just wanted to get as shitfaced as humanly possible.

And as you stand across the room and watch him, talking to a group of people loudly, you can’t help but feel like you failed him. You should have forced him to stay home. You feel nauseous just looking at him – how his shoulders sag with the weight of the world on him. How he can’t stand upright because of the alcohol. How his eyes are just slits from the pot. You are counting down the seconds until you intervene, but your nerves keep you against the wall.

Steve makes eye contact with you from where he’s standing, and his eyes squint even more as a large smile spreads on his face. It makes you sick. It’s genuine, but it’s not genuine. If he were sober, he wouldn’t be smiling that fucking big.

He meanders over to you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Hey!”

“Steve,” you say, knees buckling under the weight of his arm. “You okay?”

“No,” he says. “’Cause you’re not drinkin’.”

“I am,” you reply, holding up the cup.

Steve snorts. “That’s water.” He points to his head. “I’m not stupid.”

You nod. “Okay, buddy.”

“’m gonna get more,” he says, but you pull on the back of his sweater.

“No,” you say. “You’ve had enough. Just relax, alright?”

“Alright, dad,” he says, laughs loudly, and then stalks away.

You want to drink. You want to drink so bad. The headache that’s building gnaws on your brain, and you know it’s only going to get worse. The music makes your head pound, too, so you head off to a bathroom to calm down.

Steve knows he’s gone too far tonight, but he decides to lean into it instead of sobering up. The dizziness in his head feels good. Making people laugh feels good. He feels wanted and loved for the first time since Billy stepped foot in Hawkins, and it’s intoxicating. He loves the fame, the attention, he loves feeling the smile on his face. He throws back drink after drink, smokes puff after puff, and soon, he can hardly stand.

He sits on the couch, watching the room wave around him. He hears someone talking beside him, and he turns. It’s a girl he doesn’t know – or maybe doesn’t remember – and he blinks hard. “Hello.”

Soon, her hand is resting on his knee, and his is on hers, and they’re leaning in too close. He loves it. She’s not Nancy – he knows that, he knows that – but he can pretend. He can pretend someone wants him and loves him. It doesn’t hurt him. Not when he’s this fucked up, at least.

But you’ve come to his rescue, pulling him up from under the arms, dragging him as he loudly protests out to your car. He stumbles, he slurs, he shouts, but you keep pulling him.

Seeing him with that girl nearly made you throw up. And not because of your own feelings for the guy - but because Steve was about to be taken advantage of, and you could have prevented that from simply not letting him get this fucked up in the first place. You know he will hate you for “ruining his shot”, but you weren’t about to let him get hurt like that. He’s been through enough.

You get Steve into the car and buckle him up. He’s gone silent and you know it’s because he’s filling with rage. You know there will be a tantrum coming, and you mentally prepare yourself for whatever insults King Steve can find within him.

Halfway to his house, he finally speaks. “You’re an asshole.”

You wince but remain unfazed. “Okay.”

“Can’t believe… trying to ruin my life.”

You sigh heavily. “I’m not ruining your life.”

“You are.” He squeezes his eyes shut.

You stay silent, not wanting to fuel it further.

Steve seems to forget that he’s mad at you for a moment when you’re pulling him out of the car. Actually, he acts like he doesn’t remember being in the car with you at all, giving you a surprised, “Hey!” when you sling his arm over your shoulder. You grab the spare key under his welcome mat and stumble inside, Steve making no effort to walk for himself.

You finally get him into his room, gently sitting him on the bed. He grabs your hands and pulls you towards him, but you push off quickly, blushing profusely. It’s then that Steve realizes you’re not the girl he was flirting with on the couch, and his eyes read betrayal. He stands and falls back down on his ass, huffing. “The fuck is your problem?”

Here we go, you think. “Steve –“

“Why can’t you let me be happy?”

“I’m not the one getting in the way of your happiness, Steve.”

“’s that supposed to mean?”

You rummage through his desk to find his ibuprofen. You bite your tongue, although you want to tell him off so badly.

Your silence only fuels Steve. “’s your problem? Why can’t you have… have fun? With me?”

You slam a drawer shut and turn to him. “What’s so fucking fun about getting shitfaced at any available chance?”

Steve looks surprised, but his eyes narrow. “You’re just as bad as her.”

You laugh. “I’m just as bad as Nancy? For saving you from yourself?”

“I didn’t ask you to save me.”

You roll your eyes and open another drawer, finding the ibuprofen. You take out a few and shove them towards Steve with a water bottle from his nightstand, but he just slaps your hand so that the pills fly everywhere.

Steve, when angry, acts like a four-year-old, and he’s even worse when he’s drunk.

“Fine,” you say, sitting the bottle and the water on his nightstand. “You can suffer in the morning. I did my part.”

“You have no right,” he says, voice surprisingly clear, “to tell me what to do with my life. I wanted to be with that girl.”

“No, Steve, you didn’t. You wanted to feel special.”

“Is that so bad?”

You shake your head and turn to go towards his wardrobe to get him new clothes. He reeks of cheap beer and pot. “You need to start taking care of yourself.”

He stands then, striding over to where you are and pushing you to the side to grab his own pajamas. You roll your eyes at him and step aside, letting him clumsily search through his things. He pulls out a white t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts that definitely don’t fit him anymore. He throws his clothes off aggressively, stumbling as he puts the shorts on, and then looks at you like he’s just done something incredible.

You’re pretty impressed, because he usually wears his party clothes to sleep.

You walk him back to his bed, gently sitting him down again. His fists are clenched, and his jaw is tight – it’s heartbreaking to see him like this. Tears well in his eyes and he whispers, “I hate you.”

“You hate me for taking care of you more than anyone has in a year?” you ask, kneeling in front of him. You grab his hands and force him to lace his fingers through yours. His grip is still tight, but he’s not at risk of breaking his fingers on his palms. “You hate me for caring about you?”

“I don’t need your help,” he slurs. “I’m not a kid.”

“You do need help, Steve. I’m not letting you get like this every week. I’m –“

“You’re worse than her, do you know that?”

It hurts, but you were prepared for that low blow. “You’ll get over it, Steve.”

He ungrips your hands, pushing you away weakly. “I want you to go.”

“Fine,” you say. You stand, but then kneel back down again. You gently grab his wrists and try to catch his eyes. “Steve… there’s more to life than stupid Nancy Wheeler.”

“You think this is just about Nancy?” His voice cracks and a tear falls onto his cheek. “You think – you think it’s just because the love of my life left me?”

You’re silent.

“It’s because Billy Hargrove beat my head in so fucking bad that I – I can’t even remember my locker combination. It’s because everyone looks at me like I’m dirt. It’s because girls treat me like I’m a temple, or whatever – I don’t remember the saying. God, I don’t remember anything.” He takes a shaky breath. “My head hurts, all the time. It races. I can’t fall asleep until four in the morning. I worry about the kids on an hourly basis. Bob Newby died, and I couldn’t do a god damn thing to save him.”

Your eyes shoot downwards, guilt coiling around your gut, hot and tight.

“And to take the cake – the girl I loved, more than anything in the world, left me for the same guy she told me not to worry about. She told me I was bullshit. She told me I killed Barb.” You hear him sniffle and your heart aches. “Do you have any idea how much that hurts?”

“No,” you whisper – because you truly don’t.

It’s quiet for a long time. Your eyes are locked on the floor, and Steve’s are locked on his comforter. Finally, you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

He shrugs out of the grip of your hands on his wrists. “I want you to go.”

“Okay.”

You make your way towards the door before he calls out, “Can you tuck me in?”

His voice is so small and weak. Steve hates it more than anything. He feels like a kid again – he feels just like he did when he had nightmares and his parents didn’t do anything but send him back to bed. But he wants that safety – needs it – and so he needs you to tuck him in.

You walk back. Steve lays down, wrapping his arms around a pillow and tucking his knees up to his chest. You tuck the sheets in tightly around him, and he squeezes his eyes shut. You can see tears running down his cheeks, and you again whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” he says. He sounds worn and exhausted.

“Steve,” you say quietly. “I care about you so much.”

“I know.”

“I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” You’re about to walk away when Steve’s hand emerges from the covers, grabbing yours. He pulls and you trip, falling onto the bed, and Steve opens the blankets up for you to crawl under.

“Stay,” he says. “Please.”

You take a deep breath and contemplate – is it really okay to crawl in with him? But he looks so lost and sad, and you don’t want to leave him on his own tonight. So you crawl in, wrapping your arms around Steve tightly.

You can feel his tears on the cold sheets. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry I fucked it all up.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” you explain, holding him tighter. “I don’t want anyone to take advantage of you. I don’t want you to feel like you need to prove yourself.” Your throat starts to burn as tears creep in. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to be someone you’re not.”

“I don’t want to feel like that, either.”

It’s quiet for a bit more, and you think maybe Steve’s fallen asleep. But then he whispers, “You’re not like her. I don’t hate you.” He pauses. “And I don’t hate her.”

“I know,” you say. You reach for one of his hands and stroke his thumb with yours. “It’s alright, Steve.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he says. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.”

“I want to get better, Y/N.”

You press your forehead into his shoulder. “I want to help you get better.”

Steve picks up your hand and presses his lips to the back of it. Your stomach flips and jumps and twists, the breath knocked out of you. You love him.

“You mean everything to me,” he whispers. “You’ve been here for me through everything. And you never ran away. You never left.”

“How could I?” you ask. “You’re the best thing in my life.”

“I love you,” he says. It’s weak and faint, but there’s a truth behind it, whatever that truth may be.

“I love you, too.”

Soon, his breaths become shallow, and his chest rises and falls softly. You press yourself tighter against him and squeeze the arm circling his torso. He might forget it in the morning – he almost certainly will – but you love him, too, and you’re going to help him get better.

===

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True Warmth

Part two of my work Chills, written for the ever wonderful @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ and based on this ask ☝️.Djwjbdxidj sorry I got absorbed by it so much xD hope you'll like it and it'll be wonderful to know how you feels in this.

Pairing: Bucky x Mutant!Reader

WC: 1,343 words

Warning: Angst, Injuries, Mentions of Alcoholic beverage, Fluff and soft gorgeous Bucky.

Summary: it has been months since the Avengers saved your life. They have offered you a roof to stay on when they learned you're all alone now and had been with them. Everything is wonderful until that sad summer time.

"Why the hell it's so freaking cold again?" Asked Tony as he walked in the kitchen wearing a fluffy sweater. "Who made little ice cube angry?" He said looking around pointedly at everyone present there which consisted of Vision, Wanda, Bruce and Sam. They all answered they had no idea until Nat came in scratching her nape.

"I think we should ask Barnes to go back as soon as he can." Natasha said, wrapping a blanket around her body. "Y/N is sad because we just discovered she can't be under the sun and she dreamed of it so badly." She continued walking towards the bar counter to get herself a shot of vodka.

"She must have been very heartbroken." Wanda said, playing with the cup of hot choco. "She's been looking forward to getting released from bed rest to feel the sun for the first time and now this..."

"Has anyone tried talking to her?" Tony asked. They all shook their heads. "Friday, update on Ice cube."

Friday's voice rang around the kitchen area. "She is in her bed crying, sir."

"What's the temperature inside? Can we get in?" Tony asked again. He had customized your room to withstand your power.

"It is currently negative four Fahrenheit sir and the door is blocked by a big wall of ice." Friday said, Tony sighed.They can break the wall or have Vis float in and he can survive the current temperature if he uses his suit but you've been in so much trauma and not yet that comfortable with everyone. You've been willing to undergo medication, trainings and studies to understand your ability but that's what you're willing to offer yet.

Vision floated near Tony and tapped his shoulder. "I think it is best to call back Sargent Barnes. I can replace him on this mission."

"Alright…" Tony said, sitting down on one of the stools. "Friday call Barnes."

---

You are on your bed staring at the wide window of your room. You've been crying for a while and now you have no tears to shed.

The disappointment and heartbreak you felt when you tried going out to feel the sun for the first time was too much for you. From excitement to pain. If it wasn't for Natasha being there for you maybe you might even be dead right there in the middle of the large yard of the Avengers compound. You weren't able to move, feeling the painful burn on your skin to your bones as if acid was thrown at you. You rubbed your arm it still stings a bit.

As Natasha helped you up your room you bawled, both from the pain but from the realization that you will never be able to feel the sun on your skin, that you're not normal and that you don't belong in the outside world. You're made to be caged and hidden. You're a monster that even the life giver Sun doesn't want you in its presence.

As always when your emotions are out of control, so is your power. Making your room into a cold cage blocking all access in, you lay on your bed staring at a dream that is so near yet may kill you.

You were just staring at the iced covered window when you heard the sound of ice cracking. It continues for many times and with a beating heart you got up to look at your door. The door itself is open from the outside and you can see a silhouette of a man punching the thick ice wall. Ice meeting metal... it's Bucky!

Doing your best to make the wall fall and it did. Cracking to tiny ice blocks and there he is. The man who is always there for you. Wiping your eyes you sat up on top of your bed hugging your knees.

"Hey, Doll." He said. Waving his flesh hand that is holding a bottle of wine. Based on the layout of it. It's your favorite one from all of Tony's collection. "Heard the Sun made you cry so I came in to heal it all up with your favorites." He winked at you. You can see some dirt from his face and clothes.

"Aren't you supposed to be on a mission?" You asked in a hoarse voice.

"Nah, Steve and Sam can handle it." He said walking towards you slowly as to not slip from the ice on your floor. "I also bought your favorite chocolates on my way back." He continued, taking out different kinds of chocolate bars from the pockets of his tactical pants putting it down on your bed.

"B-Bucky…" you whispered looking up at him. "Why…?" You asked him in a low voice, your heart beating fast. Why is he always nice to you? You're a monster. It's what your parents would always tell you, locking you up in the basement of your house and the same with your captors who you now know is called Hydra. You'll always hear them how you're a monster capable of destroying a whole town.

Your eyes started to water again as you watch him move around your room, he's all smiles as he goes near the television installed on your wall with a protective case from your ice. He clicked some buttons turning it on and used the remote to bring it to the show he wants. Wiping your eyes you stared at him as he sits next to you and offers you a glass of wine.

"I promised…" he said, his voice cracking a bit as he looks down at you. "I saw the footage of what happened earlier...and I promised you that you're never going to get hurt again and this happened." He continued as he stared at you.

"W-we, n-no one knows…" you whispered looking down at the glass on your hand. "Maybe it's my destiny."

"What is?" He asked, making you look back up at him with his index finger under your chin.

"To never feel the Sun on my skin. To just stay in the dark... I-I'm a monster and I don-" you were not able to finish your self pity talk when you feel his soft lips on yours. 

Your eyes went wide from shock.

"You're not a monster. You're beautiful and pure and kind." He said. Looking at your still wide eyes. "Have you forgotten what you said to me when you first saw princess mononoke? That you want to be San and will save everyone?" Your eyes moved to the movie playing on the TV. It's your favorite animation Princess Mononoke and your eyes watered again. She was viewed as one of the monsters until she helped save everyone.

"I-I can be San?" You asked him and he smiled warmly at you caressing your cheeks. You felt the cold of his metal arm and the warmth of his flesh one.

"You can be anyone you want and don't let anything stop you." He said kissing your temple. You closed your eyes and as if feeling the Sun itself, your whole being felt warm and wonderful.

"I love you Bucky...can I be your San?" You asked looking up at him with expecting eyes.

He stole another quick kiss and smiled widely at you. "You had always been my San. I love you too, Y/N." 

Happy tears started to flow down your eyes making you bawl harder than you did earlier. You put down the glass in your hands on the side table and hugged Bucky hard and he hugged you back whispering sweet words as he combs your hair.

Once your emotion calmed down you both sat side by side with wine in your hands munching chocolate that Bucky feeds you as you watch your favorite movie.

You've realized that even though you can't be under the sun as you've dreamed you have your own bright and warm sunshine beside you always. Bucky is enough for you. Just Bucky. The warmth that you had been searching for your whole life.

Bucky/Seb Taglist:

@nano--raptor​ @marvelgirl7​ @godofplumsandthunder​ @jobean12-blog​ (taglist open ( ◜‿◝ )♡) 

I’m Hopeless Now

Keep on Truckin’ AU Part 3

Word Count: 4491

Rating: Mature-ish

Warnings: Robincest (obviously, even if they’re not siblings in this au), mentions of terrible parenting, parental death, death by overdose, drug use, foster care

Pairing: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd

Summary: Jason takes Dick out on their first date and gives the other man a glimpse into a part of his life few know about.

Notes: There is just so much fluff in here. But the next installment has some angst, not like HEAVY angst but it's there.  Next up is Duke’s introduction to the ‘verse!

Also, I'm not a Spanish speaker but there are a few Spanish phrases in this story. If there are mistakes, let me know and I'll make the edits. Google and a Cuban friend were my sources. Grammatically, I went off what I know from my Italian knowledge. But I apologize if I got anything wrong.

Translations: mi amigo: my friend Ay amigo encontraste uno bueno: Oh friend, you found a good one tu cita: your date

You can also read this on AO3 here

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

The dull thud of his head hitting the wall of his closet was the only sound outside of Jason’s muttering under his breath that could be heard in his place currently.  He liked silence, it was steadfast, and it allowed him to think clearly.  Though in the time he had spent over at Dick’s the past week, he had come to find having soft music or the tv on low volume constantly in the background was nice as well.

It had all been overpowered by Dick’s constant need to talk, but Jason hadn’t minded that either. 

Jason knew that because he had been an only child to a pair of parents that absolutely should not have been parents, he never got accustomed to constantly having people coming and going.  But the time at Dick’s had showed him he could actually enjoy it.  Only a small portion of the time had been just the two of them.  If it wasn’t one of his brothers, then Dick’s friends (yes, he had managed to meet a couple more of the infamous harem) had an on-going rotation.  Kory and Roy had proven to be Jason’s favorites so far.  But from what Dick had said about Donna and Barbara, he was sure they would make that short list as well.

But while he had enjoyed the constant noise of Dick’s, right then he needed the silence he was used to because he was having a crisis:  He had absolutely nothing to wear to the date he was taking Dick on in just a few hours. 

He had done his research and asked the few friends he had been able to get away from Dick to see what the other man liked, and it had all been a resounding and firm fun.  It didn’t matter where or what, just make sure it was fun and lively because the man enjoyed life.  He liked to smile, laugh, and soak in the presence of people who were enjoying themselves.  Jason’s past dates had all wanted expensive and to be spoiled.  Dick was the son of a billionaire and that meant he already knew expensive.  And while he wasn’t spoiled, he probably knew that already as well.

With the help of Roy, he had decided on a Cuban restaurant that was one of Jason’s favorites because the music was live and the food was amazing.  The staff knew him well and he loved submerging himself in the culture.  It was lively and fun and there was no way someone like Dick wouldn’t love it.  He was just slightly bummed that he wouldn’t be able to test out Dick’s dancing skills since he was technically still healing from being shot.

And while Jason had clothes he had worn there in the past, this was different.  He was taking a date there and not just any date.  Dick fucking Grayson.  The first guy he had been head over heels for in a long time.  The last time he had felt this strongly about someone, she had broken his heart and Jason had sworn off serious relationships.  Rose had done her damage.  Dick had started to heal it.  Without even meaning to, he had started to mend the broken part of his heart that Jason had tried to protect and build walls around.  The man was something else.

Glancing over his limited “date worthy” options, Jason gave up and grabbed a deep red sweater that had always been a crowd pleaser in the past and a pair of black slacks.  Casual but polished.  It would have to do. 

He grabbed the pair of shoes he usually wore with the pants he had picked out before leaving his closet and dropping the items on his bed.  He had just over two hours to shower, shave, and primp before he was due at Dick’s.  He could do this.

He couldn’t do this.

He wasn’t sure what he had been thinking, but standing in front of Dick’s door he was starting to second guess why a man like Dick would ever want to go on a date with a man like Jason.  What could he possibly have to offer the older man?  And Jason knew that this was stupid, that Dick was a smart man and wouldn’t agree to a date or even openly say he wanted to date Jason if there wasn’t something he liked about the younger man.  But the panic was still there.

“There’s a security panel in his living room,” a laughing voice came from behind Jason, causing him to turn quickly to see Dick’s brother, Tim, standing there.  “You know he probably knows you’ve been standing here for like five minutes freaking out, right?”

“What?  I’m not…”  Tim raised an eyebrow and Jason let his shoulders slump.  “I’m totally freaking out and I have no idea why.  What are you doing here?”

Tim held up a bag that looked like it had containers of food in it.  “Alf can’t make it the normal day this week so he made the meals at the manor and asked me to drop them off.  I thought you two would already be gone.”

“I’m still early.”

“I don’t care.  All I want to know is if you want to come in with me now or wait to actually knock and have him open the door?”

Jason considered his options and shrugged.  “Now, I guess.”  Tim nodded and slipped his key into the lock, pushing the door open and heading inside.  “Not like he doesn’t already know, right?”  Tim laughed and headed further into the penthouse.

“Dick?!  I found a dude dressed for a good time in front of your door and let him in!”  Jason felt his cheeks warm at that comment but just took a deep breath and followed the path Tim took.

“What?”  Dick’s muffled voice came from the direction of his bedroom before Jason watched him come out wearing a pair of dangerously low slung dark gray pants and his dark blue button up unbuttoned, exposing a tempting amount of skin.  Well tempting if it hadn’t been partially marred by an angry looking healing patch of skin from his injury.  “Jay!  I’ll be ready in like two minutes!”  Jason shrugged as he watched Dick rush over to give Tim a hug before pressing a kiss to Jason’s cheek with a whispered you look amazing and rushing back into his bedroom.

“Maybe he hadn’t noticed,” Tim commented as he opened the freezer and started moving things around to fit the containers of food he had brought.  “By the way, Damian ran a background check on you and is impressed at your culinary school accomplishments.”  Jason sputtered at that and looked at Tim with wide eyes, but the college student wasn’t paying him any attention.

“How..?  Is this a weird Wayne thing that Roy warned me about?”

“Yup.” 

“What did Roy warn you about?”  Jason turned his head to look at Dick who was now completely done up and moving to the couch to pull on his socks and shoes.

“Weird Wayne things,” Tim called out, head buried in the freezer still.

“Oh yeah.  Did Dames do something?  Or was it Bruce this time?”

“Demon brat.”

“Don’t call him that.  What did Dami do and do I need to talk to him about it?”  When Tim didn’t answer, Dick glanced over at Jason to see if he knew.

“Background check.  Apparently, my culinary school accomplishments are reason to be proud.”  Dick looked like he was considering the actions before shrugging and going back to his shoes.  “Have you done a background check on me?”

“Nah,” Dick said, standing and smoothing down his pants before moving over to where Jason was still standing and smiled up at him.  “Bruce did it long before I even considered it.  All I had to do was mention you one time at Family Dinner and he knew.”  Knew?  Dick must have seen the question in his eyes because he laughed and pressed a hand over Jason’s heart.  The motion did not send a wave of warmth through his chest.  Nope.  “He knew I wanted to know more about you.  That I would want you to know more about me.”

“That predictable?”  Jason teased, raising his hand to cover Dick’s.

“Maybe.  Or maybe he could tell it was different this time.”

“Jeeze, now I get what Damian was complaining about.  You’re disgusting.”  Jason looked over to see Tim giving them a look that spoke of bad smells or unpleasant flavors.  “Aren’t you guys going on a date?”  Dick huffed out a laugh and Jason dropped his hand from Dick’s so the other man could move away and gather whatever else he needed.  Which was a wallet from the kitchen island and a cell from the docking station near the couch. 

“All right, I’m good to go.”  Dick told Jason as he double checked everything.  “You’ll lock up and set alarms before you leave, Timmy?”

“I might hang out for a bit, if that’s cool?  B has Selina over today and Damian is on high alert.”

“You got it.  Guest room is yours if you want it.”

“But…”

Even Jason knew what that but was about and he couldn’t help but shake his head at the implication.

“What kind of harlot do you take me for, Tim?  Not on the first date!”  He was joking, though.  With Dick?  He totally would fall into his bed on the first date.  If he hadn’t been shot a few weeks ago.

“Uh huh,” came the unimpressed reply.  “Have fun you two.  Bring back ice cream if you can.”

Dick called out his goodbye and grabbed Jason’s hand, tugging him toward the door before Jason could say much more than a goodbye as well.

“Who is Selina?”  Jason asked curiously as they headed for the elevator. 

“Bruce’s on-again/off-again girlfriend.  They’re obviously on at the moment.”  That was all Dick offered as they stepped onto the elevator and he hit the bottom for the lobby.  “So, where are we going?  Roy hinted that he knew but you have been so hush hush on it.”

“That’s only because it took me a while to figure out where to take someone who has probably experienced every date worthy spot in this city.” 

Dick pressed a hand to his own chest and tried to look offended.  “Are you calling me a serial dater?”

“Nah, but Wally did suggest that you had made the rounds in your circle of friends…”  Jason teased, smirking.

“Hogwash,” Dick waved his hand.  “I’ve never dated Kal or Donna.”

“Only those two?”

“Eh, it’s hard to keep track of who I actually dated and who I’ve just ‘had fun’ with.”  Jason knew Dick was joking, thanks to Wally actually clearing up the fact that Dick had really only dated and/or slept with a small portion of their friend group and he had been joking.  But the idea of Dick being so flippant about something Jason had been so serious about in his own life was a change.

“Your dating history aside, I actually just meant that I know Bruce Wayne likes to spend his money on Gothamite businesses.  So, I assumed that included restaurants.”

“That’s absolutely true.  But there are plenty of places I have never been.”

“And I found one, according to Roy.  One that I frequent actually.”  Dick raised a brow in question, the ding of the elevator reaching the lobby filling the small space.  Gesturing for Dick to go first, Jason followed him toward the front door where the valet had allowed him to park his motorcycle earlier.

“I assume it’ll be good food then.  A man with your talent wouldn’t accept anything less.”  Jason simply nodded and thanked the man holding his keys out for him.  “Are you going to tell me?”  Jason just shook his head and smiled, handing Dick a helmet he had brought along before grabbing his own.  Dick simply rolled his eyes and tugged the helmet on.

The ride to the restaurant was short, no more than ten minutes, but Jason was man enough to admit that he wished it were longer just for the fact that Dick would keep his arms wrapped around his waist.  But since he couldn’t actually just drive randomly around the city, he settled for grabbing Dick’s hand to hold while they walked up to Havana, the music already easily heard from outside the building.

“Here?”  Dick question, flicking the thumb of his free hand toward the double doors of the restaurant Jason had chosen.  Jason nodded and watched Dick turn back to take in the choice.  The smile that spread across his face was enough for Jason to know he had made the right choice.  “I have heard about it but you’re right, I’ve never been.”

“Well, allow me to introduce you to one of the best restaurants in Gotham,” Jason told him as he tugged open one of the doors and let Dick walk in before him.  The warmth of the room hit them immediately and Jason took a deep breath, letting the spices fill his senses before he smiled at Sofia, the owners daughter who happened to be the hostess for the night.  “Sofia,” he greeted, smiling softly at the teenager.

“Jason, hi!”  The girl smiled brightly before looking at Dick and Jason could tell the moment she recognized exactly who he was.  “Oh wow.”  Jason couldn’t help but chuckle, but Dick had his attention turned elsewhere so he nudged his date.

“Oh, sorry.  This place is amazing,” Dick commented, looking toward Jason before turning to look at the girl who was so obviously fangirling.

“This is Sofia, she’s the owner’s daughter,” Jason supplied, and Dick turn his charming smile onto the girl.  “We’ll take a table for two, Sof.”  The girl nodded, but her eyes remained wide and on Dick.  Not that Jason could blame her.  Richard Grayson was a beloved celebrity of Gotham.  Bruce had his own following, but Dick was considered the sweetheart of the city.  He charmed everyone who came into contact with him.

“This way,” the girl said, trying to maintain some sort of professional appeal as she led them to Jason’s favorite spot and set their menus down before they took their seats.  “Jorge will be over in a minute.  Do you want the usual drink?”  Being a regular meant the staff knew Jason’s favorites but they didn’t know Dick’s.

“I’ll wait for Jorge,” he told her, and she nodded with a smile, glancing one last time to Dick who flashed her another bright smile, before she rushed off.  “You have a fan.”

Dick snorted and picked up the menu.  “I tend to have them everywhere.  She was sweet though.”  And Jason just couldn’t get over that.  How could someone be so used to that sort of attention?  “So tell me, Mr. Todd, what is your usual?”

“They make a fantastic daiquiri,” Jason shrugged, unapologetic from the seemingly “feminine” cocktail.

“That we do!”  Jason looked over to find the familiar waiter standing by their table, smiling at the two of them.  Though, Jason could see the question in his eye when his gaze landed on Dick and moved back to Jason.  “Shall I have two whipped up?  It’s mango season and we just had a fresh batch delivered.”

“Oh yes, that sound like heaven.”  Dick’s reply surprised him, but it probably shouldn’t have.  So, he simply nodded his agreement.

“And the usual chips and dip, mi amigo?”  Jason nodded and Jorge headed off to the bar to take care of the starters.

“You know, I should be upset you brought me to a place made for dancing when I’m under strict orders to avoid it,” Dick drew his attention.  Jason leaned his elbows on the table and smiled at Dick, shrugging a shoulder.

“When you’re given the all clear, I’m more than happy to bring you back just to get you on that dance floor.”

“I’ll be holding you to that,” Dick smiled, leaning onto the table as well.  And there was no doubt in Jason’s mind that he would do just that.  “So you come here enough that you have regular orders and the waiter calls you his friend.”

Jason shrugged a shoulder.  “Jorge calls everyone friend.”  Dick raised an eyebrow and Jason couldn’t help but chuckle.  “Okay fine, yes.  I come here at least once a week.  Most of the time I carry out, but a couple times a month I eat in.  A lot of them also order from my truck.”

And Jason had really liked that they respected him as a customer enough to try and support him as well.  It was a true brotherhood of sorts.  And a lot of Gotham had that same vibe.  You look after me, so I look after you.

Jason kept his eyes on Dick and observed him taking in everything around them.  It was so strange to see someone who wanted to take it all in.  In the past, his dates had always been more focused on the moment between them.  But this sort of air between them spoke of comfort and not feeling like they had to impress each other.  They had already done that.  Jason was already gone and he could tell in the small touches and the smiles that Dick was right there with him. 

So instead of focusing on Jason, Dick’s eyes scanned the room.  Jason watched his head bob to the upbeat music coming from the stage.  He saw the longing as sapphire eyes drifted over the couples dancing, pausing at a mother/son pair that caused what looked like pain to spill into his eyes.  But it was gone as quickly as Dick moved his eyes over to the bar area where there were rowdy customers enjoying a sporting event while drinking.

“This place is magical,” Dick said, finally turning his eyes back to Jason.  The smile on his face was comfortable and relaxed.  He looked no different than when they were on the couch eating a meal Jason had prepared.  And Jason couldn’t help but feel the same. 

The moment was broken by the return of Jorge with their drinks and the chips.  He gave a warning to Dick about the spice levels of the salsas he had put down but Dick simply waved a hand at that and went right for the hottest.  And since Jason had already made his spicy chili for the man and had watched him not bat an eyelash, he just watched Jorge’s eyes widen as Dick showed no signs of trauma as he went in for another.

“Ay amigo encontraste uno bueno,” Jorge clapped Jason on the shoulder with a bright laugh and Dick smirked.  Jorge probably had no idea Dick could understand.  “Do you know what you’d like?”

Jason looked over at Dick and raised an eyebrow to see if he knew what he would like.  Dick held up a finger and opened the menu quickly to scan it as he chewed before swallowing.  “Oh, you do have it!  Rabo encendido, por favor,” Dick said, accent perfectly on point and Jason tried not to take too much pleasure out of Jorge’s surprise.

“Si, best there is amigo.”  Jorge looked over at Jason who simply nodded as he grabbed Dick’s menu and handed both his and Dick’s over to Jorge.  “Alejandra is in the back, I’ll let her know you’re here.  She’ll want to meet tu cita.”  Dick’s laughter as Jorge walked away was worth the flush he could feel on his face at the teasing.

“Hey,” Dick pulled his attention away from him watching Jorge head to the kitchen.  He found Dick with his drink raised for a cheers and a cheeky smile on his face.  “To us?  It only took us forever to get to this point, but I’m glad we’re here.”

Jason grabbed his glass and clinked it with Dick’s, his smile going soft and that warm feeling in his chest returning.  “Yeah, to you not dying and me not thinking you just ditched me.”  Dick snorted into his cup and Jason wanted to pinch himself because how could that action be just as endearing as the moment they had earlier with Dick’s hand pressed over his heart and his own hand covering Dick’s?  He was a goner.  There was no hope for him in that moment.  None at all.

The ease the date started with continued on through the meals and Jason found himself enjoying a more lively side of Dick as he fed off the environment of the room.  The cheerful banter he exchanged with the owner of the restaurant and Jorge left Jason even more glad he had decided on a place that meant something to him personally.  Yes, there were other restaurants in the city that he was considered a regular at, but not like this.  Not since Alejandra had known the woman who had raised him.  How he had stayed at the Rivera house after she had died.  But Dick didn’t know any of that.  He didn’t know how much this place meant to him and the impact it had on his career choice because Jason had never told him.  Instead he watched Dick form his own opinion on the people he cared about and let him charm them without any influence.

“You know,” Dick’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, drawing ocean blue eyes to sapphire.  “You haven’t told me how you came to be a regular here.”  His eyes were bright, cheeks splashed with red from the alcohol consumption, and his smile loose.  A smile always so freely given.

“I’ve known Alejandra since I was young.  She helped me when I had no one else.”  He watched Dick tilt his head to the side, prompting him to continue.  Taking a deep breath, Jason let it out slowly and steeled himself for sharing this.  “She was my mother’s friend, the only one that I know of outside of her drug addicted friends.”  Swirling the melted frozen drink in his glass, he let his eyes slip just past Dick’s shoulder.  “When my dad just stopped coming home, I spent a lot of time with Alejandra because my mother wasn’t exactly a good parent.  And when Catherine died of an OD, Alejandra took me in.”

The hand that appeared over the one still swirling his drink around caught Jason off guard and he looked back to Dick.  “You don’t have to do this here.  I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”  And it struck him again, with those words, that he really had no idea how he had managed to score a guy like Dick.  His date who just wanted to know more about the past that Jason kept under lock and key. 

“I want to tell you.”  Which was absolutely the truth.  Jason wanted to let Dick into every corner of his life, let him fill in the empty spaces of his heart.  “But maybe not here.”  He watched Dick nod in understanding and Jason felt his shoulders relax a little.  He hadn’t even noticed that he had tensed up, but obviously Dick had.

“Let’s square up here and then head back toward my place.  There’s a gelato place a block away that Timmy likes the best, we can take a walk.  Looks like a nice night.”

Jason sighed and smiled.  “Yeah, that sounds perfect.”  With a glance over his shoulder, Jason coughed Jorge’s attention and the man gave a nod before getting to work on closing their tab.  Jason pushed to his feet and looked at Dick who’s brow had furrowed in an adorably confused expression.  “They have my card on file.  And Jorge knows to add 25% each time.”

“I was thinking we could split the bill, though…”  Jason laughed at that idea.  The glare Dick sent him was just as cute as the confusion and Jason just held out his hand to help Dick out of his own chair.  “Fine, but I get to pay for the gelato.”

“Sure thing, Handsome.  Sure thing.” 

Dick gracefully got to his feet and brushed off phantom crumbs while keeping hold of Jason’s hand.  Jason watched him in amusement before letting the older man lead him toward the exit.

“Bye Jay!  Bye Dick,” Sofia called out from her post near the door.  Jason paused to kiss the girl’s cheek and Dick gave her his blinding smile and a wave before the pair slipped back out into the cooling Gotham night air.

The pair were silent as they made their way back to Jason’s motorcycle and then back to Dick’s apartment building.  It wasn’t until they were close to the gelato shop that Dick paused and turned to face Jason.

“Before we’re back in a crowd of people or with Timmy, I just wanted to say thank you.  Not just for the amazing night, but for letting me into that piece of your life.  I don’t ask about your past because I can tell it’s private.  And if you want to tell me one day, then I’ll be happy to listen,” he spoke softly and Jason just remained silent, letting him say his piece.  “But don’t think you ever have to tell me anything you don’t want to talk about.  There are things that will take me a while to talk about and I know you’ll respect that.  I just want to make sure you know that I’ll do the same.”

Waiting a moment to be sure that Dick was done, Jason took a step closer and placed the hand not still being held by Dick’s onto the older man’s cheek.  “I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you, but I’m really fucking glad I did it.”  He cut Dick’s responding laugh off with his mouth, pressing their lips together in a way not too dissimilar to the kiss they had shared in the hospital not too long ago.

The feeling of Dick’s hand slipping around his hip to clench at his sweater on back told him that he had made the right move.  The press of their bodies together coupled with the hum of approval from Dick was all the encouragement Jason needed to slip his hand from Dick’s cheek to his hair to angle the other man’s head just so.

When Jason finally pulled back, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Dick chasing his lips.  “Let’s get that ice cream and head back to give your brother some.”

“If you’re interested, we can put in a movie?”  It was the first time Dick had sounded a bit hesitant with him since they had decided to give a relationship a try and it made Jason’s heart clench a little.

“That sounds perfect.”  Dick’s responding smile had Jason leaning forward for one more kiss before they walked the rest of the way to the gelato shop.

The other ask was...what would happen if Tiger was in an accident and she had to go to the hospital and Bill was out of town and she didn't want him know and worry about her so she didnt tell him and he finds out later from a mutual friend.

Oh my goddddddddd babes, my soff heart.

Alright look, follow me here, alright? A little while ago, I wrote a small blurb on how tiger once totalled her car. What if this happened at the same time? But like, did he find out from a mutual friend, or did he come home and find her all banged up? God I don’t know let’s see where this goes.

Maybe Bill was indeed away somewhere. So tiger’s car gets smashed and all things considered, she’s mostly okay. Maybe a broken wrist, or at least a really badly bruised one. She’s got a black eye and a split lip from the air bag, the seatbelt left a huge, angry bruise across her chest and hell maybe it even cracked a rib. She’s shaken up and she’s actually hurt, but tiger has a lot of people in her life who love her--her parents, her friends circle. And even in her shook up state when all she wants is Bill, she can’t bear to throw this on him--because she knows how much it would destroy him, how worried he would be for her, how he would drop absolutely everything and come running to her side. Tiger is not alone, and maybe if she was this would be a different story, but she has...other people. And those people are not Bill, but in a time of crisis, they’re still people she loves and trusts and she’d rather lean on them than cause an absolute panic with Bill.

She’s brought to the hospital to be patched up, but when she sees the suture kit come out she breaks down, heaves, panics to the point where the doctors probably have to hold her down a bit, lest she fuck up her recently reset wrist or hurt her ribs even worse. In her delirium she yells for Bill, sobs for him, and the doctors probably decide that it’s better for everyone--including her--if they go ahead and sedate her a bit. Once she’s out they stitch up her lip, and thankfully her wrist doesn’t need a full cast so they wrap it instead and she’s wheeled out to where her parents are waiting. She spends a few days with them, just because she’s definitely going to need some help at least until the pain subsides.

And she doesn’t say a word to Bill. Despite how scared she is, the nightmares she’s getting, the flashbacks, the pain she’s in--every time he calls her, she fakes a happy voice, and doesn’t mention a goddamn thing.

He’s back a few weeks later and thankfully by then at least the black eyes have faded, the stitches in her lip have dissolved. Her torso is still a mess of cuts and bruises from the seatbelt--deep, angry contusions that still cause her breath to hitch every time she moves too quickly. Her wrist still has a thick padded bandage, but she’s wearing a big wool sweater that can mask it a bit. She’s still not sure how--or if--she’s going to tell him, but she definitely needs a plan because she knows the first thing he’s going to do is reach for her, back her up into the bedroom, pull her clothes off. She needs to find some excuse to just hold him off for awhile, until she heals and the marks are gone.

She didn’t anticipate it to work, really, but it was worth a shot.

And when he came in that night, unlocking her door and putting his suitcase down, he beamed when he saw her.

“Hey kid,” he greeted, “I wasn’t sure if you were home. I didn’t see your car.”

“It’s in the shop,” she says without missing a beat, “Needed an oil change and a tune up.”

He kicks off his shoes, opening his arms to her. She smiles wide, tucking in to them.

“Hi,” she greets, and he captures her lips in a deep kiss.

“Hi,” he murmurs when he breaks the kiss, “I missed you.”

And then he presses his chest to hers, pulling her in to a tight hug. Tiger clenches her eyes shut, gritting her teeth when he squeezes her, her ribs screaming in pain. He mistakes her gasp for one full of good emotions--that she missed him, and it feels good to be back in his arms--and to her complete horror he squeezes her even tighter. She has tears in her eyes when he finally pulls away, but thankfully--he misinterprets that too. Because at this point--how could he possibly know?

“You big sap,” he jokes as he swipes her cheeks with his thumbs, “Getting all emotional already.”

She smiles and fakes a bit of a laugh despite the stabbing pain it causes in her ribs.

“Come on, I made you food,” she tries as she turns to walk down the hall--anything to keep his mind away from the bedroom, and trying to take her clothes off.

It doesn’t work. In fact, it backfires. Spectacularly.

“Great,” he says cheerily, “But I’m going to devour you, first.”

And then he grabs onto her wrist--but it’s her bad wrist. And the shriek that tiger let out was the worst sound he had ever heard and he retracted his hand immediately as she clutched her wrist and choked back a sob. But the sudden movement, the deep inhale as she tried to breathe through the pain, also just sent a searing flash through her chest and ribs and she doubled over, clutching at them too. Bill is staring at her, panicked, but he tries to stay calm.

“Tiger,” he says calmly, “What happened?”

She breathes, a sharp inhale through her nose, and tries to stand up straight.

“Nothing,” she said, “Just my carpal tunnel acting up again.”

And she turns away because she can’t control the pain contorting her features anymore, but Bill isn’t buying it for one second. And he quickly moves, gets in front of her, and stops her in her tracks.

Before she can react he grabs her elbow, pulls up the sleeve of her shirt, and reveals the thick, intricate wrap on her wrist. Bill’s blood runs cold. Because like, here’s the thing, right? If tiger just hurt her wrist, she would have told him that in one of their conversations. The kid’s clumsy, she’s always getting little injuries here and there and it’s no big deal. But the fact that she got hurt, and that she didn’t tell him, means that she’s hiding something. It means that she’s much, much more hurt than what he’s just seeing here.

“Tiger,” he closes his eyes for a brief second to try and get his emotions under control, “What. Happened.”

She bites her lip, tries to avoid his gaze, but he grabs onto her chin softly. Her eyes well with tears.

“I got into a car accident,” she mumbles lowly. Bill doesn’t blink, his eyes are just glaring holes through hers, and he doesn’t let her pull her chin away.

“I’m okay,” she continues nervously, “I just got a little banged up.”

“Where else are you banged up, tiger?” he asks, and his voice is dangerously low. He’s not mad, he’s just absolutely terrified.

She sniffles, hesitates for a second, but then she grabs the hem of her shirt. She slowly lifts it over her head, wincing a little when she lifts her arms, and then tosses it to the side. She looks up at him, and waits for his reaction. His eyes are scanning her, widening in disbelief at the sheer amount and depth of the bruises littering her ribs and her chest, and he sucks in a breath.

“Tiger,” he whispers and his voice cracks, “Are you okay?”

She nods.

“It’s better now,” she says. Bill looks like he’s losing it, his eyes well with tears but he blinks them back, bending to get a better look at her ribs. He reaches a hand out, looking up at her for permission. She nods.

“Is anything broken?” he asks, and he softly glides his fingertips over her bruised skin.

“Two ribs,” she mumbles, “And a bruised sternum. All from the seatbelt.”

He bites his lip, but then in a flash he’s upright again, and he’s grabbing her face and kissing the hell out of her. She squeaks in surprise but then kind of melts into it, and I’ll bet the poor bean even cries. She didn’t like hiding this from him. She didn’t like lying. But she also didn’t like that he wasn’t here, that he couldn’t help her, take care of her. She hates that all of this happened. But now she’s just...she’s glad he’s here. Because that accident terrified her, it made her so scared, and even though she’s been surrounded by people taking care of her, all she wanted was him. And now he’s here, and he knows, and he can help. And she finally fucking feels safe again, for the first time a long time. The tears are wetting her cheeks and he’s swiping them away, kissing her harder until she can’t breathe. And when he finally breaks apart and rests his forehead on hers, his chest is heaving and his eyes are still closed.

“Tiger, why didn’t you tell me?” he asks. And it’s not accusatory in the least. He wants to be angry, wants to be so mad at her for keeping this a secret because if he had known then he could have helped. He wants to be furious, but he’s just....terrified. He’s so scared for her, and it’s so strong that it’s the only emotion he’s capable of feeling.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” she sniffles, “I knew that if I told you, you would've dropped everything and come home. And I didn’t want you to do that.”

He’s silent, still just breathing her in, trying to absorb everything she’s telling him.

“Are you mad at me?” she mumbles. He opens his eyes, kisses her deeply again.

“I’m a lot of things right now,” he tells her honestly, his voice cracking, as he cups her cheeks again, “I’m angry that you hid this from me, yes. But more than that...I’m thankful that you’re only a little banged up, and that it wasn’t worse. I’m worried, because I know that you’re in pain. I’m scared, because I can’t even imagine how scared you must have been. And I’m glad that I’m home, so that we can figure this out together.”

She nods softly, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against his chest.

“Tiger are you.....are you okay?” he asks again, and she nods.

“It was a lot Bill,” she says quietly, “And I’m glad you’re home.”

God, my soff heart, I’ll bet the sex is so goddamn sweet and gentle. Because let’s face it, tiger is banged up to high hell but there’s no way they’re not going to do it, because both of them need that closeness. Tiger needs to feel good again, needs to be reassured that he’s home now, and that everything will be okay. And for his part, Bill needs that closeness with her too, needs to make sure that she’s okay and just needs to feel her. His mind gets away on him-and you can’t blame the guy--he wasn’t there for the accident so he can only imagine how fucking bad it was, and how scared she was, how hurt she really was. He needs that closeness with her because it reassures him that she’s okay for the most part, she just needs some time to heal.

Tug of War (Ch 3)

ch 1 - prev - next

Word Count: 1,495

(AKA the random Christmas chapter)

The next week, Danny was greeted by the sight of a very pissed off Sam giving Tucker the silent treatment. He had warned him.

Sitting down in his seat, Danny hesitantly asked, “Hey Sam, how was your trip?”

Her vicious glare redirected to him. “Danny, how could you let him install the grill?”

Read on AO3 or under the cut

“Uh…” He looked over to Tucker, who looked like he was about to cry. “I told him it was a bad idea.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I tried, Sam.”

Sam glowered at him for a moment longer before sighing. “Fine. Trip was alright. But I’m so behind on everything now.”

He took notice of her slightly tanned face. “Didn’t get much time to study?”

“No, ugh. My parents wouldn’t leave me alone for a second.”

“Sounds like they’re gonna miss you when you’re gone off to college,” he remarked, remembering his own parents.

“I won’t be gone off to college if they don’t let me study,” she huffed.

Right then, Mr. Lancer strolled in the classroom wearing a Christmas sweater with “TO BE OR NOT TO BE JOLLY” knitted on the front.

Danny couldn’t help the scornful look that appeared on his face. He never could stand the holidays. Every year, when stores started playing their annoyingly repetitive Christmas playlists, every channel on TV kickstarted their broadcast of the same five Christmas movies, and everybody in his life began to treat each other with an exaggerated cheer, he just wanted to vomit. Call him a Scrooge, the Grinch, he doesn’t care. He’d rather go to sleep and wake up in January than go through it all again.

Later that day after school, Danny questioned his entire purpose as he weaved around the mall’s annoying Christmas decorations (more like obstacles) to chase Spectra. Apparently, for the last week, she has been making kids miserable by telling them Santa Claus isn’t real. Which...well, despite how true she is, it still isn’t right for her to relish in their despair.

“Aww Danny, you’re so boring. You won’t even let me have some fun, it’s almost Christmas,” Spectra teased as she shot an ectoblast behind her towards him.

Danny grunted, barely dodging it. “I think you’re misunderstanding the definition of fun. One, in any dictionary you will not find ‘making children miserable’ under ‘fun’. Two, nothing associated with Christmas is fun.”

“Ah right, I almost forgot how much of a Scrooge you are. But we know you act this way to hide something deeper. Tell me Danny, why do you bury those traumatic memor—”

“Shut up Spectra!” Danny yelled before shooting a blast back at her.

She easily dodged it, and smirked at how easily ruffled the boy got. His frustration was so delicious! Spotting Bertrand in his human form, quietly approaching with a string of colourful fairy lights behind him, her smile grew even wider.

Before Danny could react, Bertrand tossed the fairy lights like a lasso, catching his leg and slamming him to the ground. The mall tile instantly cracked upon impact.

Bertrand harshly pulled a Santa hat over the boy’s head before flying off with his companion, cackling.

Wes filmed the entire exchange with his brand new camera while he hid behind a trash receptacle. He couldn’t help but wince when Fenton hit the tile.

“Eh, he’s a ghost, he’ll be fine,” he muttered to himself, zooming in on Fenton’s form as he slowly got up.

Fenton yanked the hat off his head and grumbled, “I hate Christmas,” before chucking it to the ground and taking off to confront the two ghosts again.

Wes stopped the camera and frowned. Fenton hates Christmas?

How could anyone—okay, sure, no doubt the concept of Santa actually came from Satan and the holidays are practically an excuse in today’s society for corporations to milk more money from their consumers. But, even he himself couldn’t help but feel a little happier during the holidays!

Of course, this only further proves Fenton’s true identity. Only a ghost could feel so hateful towards such a merry time of the year, right?

Suddenly, an imaginary light bulb lit up above Wes’ head. His eyes locked on the nearest store selling Christmas decorations and he naughtily grinned.

~

If Danny could have it his way, he’d just spend the entire day lying in bed. His back was so sore from the fight with Spectra and Bertrand yesterday. Even his self-healing abilities weren’t enough to ease the pain.

Of course, he had to show up today, he had a math test. And a physics lab that counted for twenty percent of his grade. He couldn’t even tell himself that he could rest after school, his entire week was jam-packed with assignment deadlines. It was the last week before winter break but to Danny, it felt like an eternity would pass before he’d get to relax.

He was so looking forward to the break. Don’t get him wrong, he still despised everything to do with Christmas. But he’d happily welcome a break any day. Ghosts also generally calm down around this time because of their truce. Although, Spectra yesterday definitely was an exception.

Before he pondered any longer on that thought, Danny sluggishly opened his locker and froze at what he saw. Every inch of it was covered in loud red and green Christmas wrapping paper, flashing multi-coloured fairy lights lined the door, and ornaments hung from the two hooks. He went to grab his physics textbook and growled when he realized all of his books were also covered in wrapping paper.

“Woah there Danny, I thought you weren’t much of the festive type?”

Danny whipped his head towards the sound of Sam’s voice. “I didn’t do this! Wes—he even wrapped my textbooks!”

It only infuriated him even more when he noticed Sam trying to suppress a laugh. “It’s not funny!”

However those words were lost to her when she couldn’t contain it anymore. Danny scowled and began ripping off the paper on his textbooks.

A few moments later, Sam finally calmed down just when he started to harshly tug on the fairy lights. “You know, even though it’s pretty cheesy to me, people do this. The whole decorating lockers kind of thing. Heck, Paulina still maintains that shrine of you in hers. Maybe Wes just really likes Christmas?”

“But I don’t! It’s my locker too,” he angrily insisted as he continued to pull.

“True. You should still talk to him before doing that,” she said, watching him grip an ornament as if he wanted to crush it.

He paused. “Why are you even trying to defend Wes when you still won’t talk to Tucker?”

She instantly shot an indignant look at him. “That is totally different! I told him not to do it, yet he did it anyways!”

“ You should still talk to him ,” Danny repeated in a mocking tone.

“Ugh! Fine, go and tear down those decorations!” she snapped before stomping off towards their first class.

He coolly observed her retreating form for a moment before crushing the ornament in his hand.

~

Danny and Sam were already sitting at their lunch table toying with their food and complaining about all their assignments when Tucker walked up to them with a steaming tupperware container. Sam’s look instantly melded into a glare.

“Tucker seriously? I already told you to get rid of that grill and now you’re here making food for yourself?“

“Sam. Here, take this.” Tucker calmly offered the container.

“You know I don—“ she stopped mid-sentence when she noticed it was filled with grilled zucchini slices.

“Try one,” Tucker urged. “I promise, I cleaned the grill properly before cooking these.”

Danny was almost sure she was going to reject it. Except, she grudgingly reached out and grabbed one with her spork.

“What did you put on this?”

He shrugged, “Olive oil, some salt, black pepper, herbs, garlic and onion powder, oh and balsamic vinegar. Just like how you taught me.”

She eyed the slice for a moment longer before taking a bite.

“Look, by the end of lunch, if you still don’t want it, I’ll uninstall the grill, alright?” Tucker proposed.

Sam seemed much calmer now and Danny couldn’t tell if she liked the zucchini or not. “Tucker, I’m mad at you because you didn’t listen to me. It’s our locker we share together, we’re supposed to make decisions together.“

“I’m sorry Sam. I just...”

“Listen, you promise that you’ll take full blame when a teacher finds out?”

“No teacher is goi—”

“Tucker.”

“Alright, I promise.”

This time, Sam smiled and went to grab another slice of zucchini. “What do you say about me bringing in a spice rack tomorrow?”

Tucker looked at her in disbelief for a second before responding, “Heck yeah!”

Meanwhile, Danny was grinning. His friends will always have their squabbles. But somehow, they manage to work it out in the end every time.

Abandoning his own bland lunch, he picked up his spork just when Tucker began to dig in.

When He Cries

Yellow again everyone! Here is another one-shot, the biggest one-shot I’ve made yet. This one, of course, has Dream in it, as all my one-shots have so far. And where there’s Dream, there’s Nightmare. 

Fandom: Undertale, but specifically Dreamtale

Characters: Nightmare, Dream (Who belong to Joku)

Warnings: Depression, implied/referenced suicide attempt, implied/referenced self-harm, swearing, and I think that’s it? Let me know!

Word Count: 3790

(Want some extra feels? Listen to Better Off Dead, When She Cries and beautiful?! You won’t regret it!)

~oOo~

Nightmare, if you asked him, would say that yes, he did believe in black and white.

That the world was separated into two types of people: good and bad. He was bad, negative, so that meant everyone had to hate him and that he had to never care about anyone else. However, his brother was the opposite. Dream was good, positive, and that meant that everyone loved him and he loved everyone else.

Nightmare hated it. He hated how he was the bad one when he didn’t do a damn thing to deserve it, whereas Dream was loved without even trying. He hated it. He hated Dream. Dream should be the one hated, not him.

Or so he had said about a year ago, when his world was normal and grounded, not this uneasy place that cracked with every action he made.

~oOo~

Little boy terrified

He’d leave his room if only bruises would heal

~oOo~

Right in the middle of September, just a few weeks into their final year of high school, Nightmare felt something off.

He had been feeling it for a while now, but he brushed it off every time. But now it was too big to ignore. However, he had no way to pinpoint where the feeling was coming from, or why he had it. Nightmare was frustrated.

His friends noticed, and once told of the feeling he had, started to look closely at their surroundings. They had figured that he probably had this feeling because of something or someone around them, which made sense. However, they had no luck as of yet.

And it was around this time in September, that Nightmare noticed that the feeling made itself known when Dream and his friends were within eyesight.

So, the next logical step would be to closely watch them to see why they made him feel like this. If, of course, they weren’t good people, because good people couldn’t possibly have something wrong with them. They were good. They were perfect.

So, the feeling must be wrong to say that there was something off with them.

~oOo~

A home is no place to hide

His heart is breaking from the pain that he feels

~oOo~

As they progressed into November (Halloween was awesome, by the way, though Dream did stay locked in his room for that day and the weekend after), Nightmare was once again distracted with his feeling, which had seemed to lock itself onto Dream, for some reason.

Dream had seemed pretty normal to him. He was all smiley and optimistic and positive, so much that Nightmare wanted to throw up whenever he was around him.

Dream was as good as he had always been, so why did the feeling attach itself to him?

Sure, Dream had these bags under his eyes, but that was probably because he stayed up too late chatting with his friends or playing video games. Same with the way he walked slowly, like there was a weight on his back; it was probably a side effect of the sleep loss. As Dream was good, and good people don’t get affected with negativity.

Yes, that was it. His feeling must still be mistaken. He should just ignore it. It’ll go away eventually.

But if that was the case, then why, when he was in bed falling asleep, with the sounds of muffled sobs coming from Dream’s room next to him (Dream was probably comforting a classmate), did his belief of black and white sound so wrong now?

~oOo~

Every day’s the same

He fights to find his way

He hurts, he breaks,

~oOo~

(Deep down inside of Nightmare, he knew it wasn’t a classmate making those sobs, but if it wasn’t, then who was? Dream was good, positive. Dream never cried. He couldn’t, unless he was scared or didn’t get his way. So, who was crying?)

~oOo~

He hides, and tries to pray

He wonders why,

Does anyone ever hear him when he cries?

~oOo~

Tomorrow is their birthday. They’ll be turning eighteen.

Nightmare is relieved. Now, he’ll finally be a legal adult, which means he doesn’t need his parent’s permission to do anything. He could finally drink, smoke, do drugs, anything he wanted. Dream, on the other hand, seemed to hunch in on himself when their birthday was mentioned.

(Odd. Dream had always been excited for their birthday, as it was the one-day Nightmare hung out with him willingly.)

As Nightmare realized this, he also began to notice that Dream had been sleeping more lately. He used to be up very early every day, even on the weekends, but now he slept in until he was almost late for school. He looked tired all day at school and seemed to zone out more too, especially at lunch, where he barely nibbled on some food.

That wasn’t the weirdest thing. Though, Dream also seemed to have his shoulders hunched up regularly, whereas before he always had almost perfect posture. He also seemed to focus on homework instead of his hobbies and friends.

Nightmare recalled seeing some of Dream’s poems and songs in the kitchen trash. Dream liked to write, saying he was going to write tons of books that helped people be happy. When he took them out of the trash to inspect them, he saw scribbles and black smudges that obscured the writing, though Nightmare could faintly see ‘my fault’ as one of the things being repeated over and over again.

He had tried to confront Dream about it. Dream had laughed. (The laugh seemed a bit hollow and forced. Why?)

“They weren’t good, Nightmare,” Dream had said, playing with the end of his sweater sleeve. “so, I threw them away.”

“But wouldn’t you have wanted to keep them as references? Y’know, to see how you improved?” Nightmare had asked in return. As he said that, Dream’s eyes had unfocused a bit, taking on a glassy texture.

Dream mumbled something that Nightmare couldn’t hear, then his eyes snapped into focus and he smiled, a big grin that would seem fake to a blind man. “Maybe. But those ones, in particular, I could let go of. They were so bad!”

Dream had left quickly before Nightmare could ask more questions. Nightmare watched him go, the usual anger he felt from Dream saying something so ignorant gone. Which was weird. Nightmare should be scowling, fuming about how Dream wouldn’t know a thing about self-criticism, as Dream was so perfect, he thought anything he did was perfect.

Another thing, Nightmare realized now, looking back on it, when had Dream started wearing long sleeves so frequently? Nightmare thought back on the year and realized that Dream hadn’t worn a t-shirt since last January.

Odd. So many odd things. Now, Nightmare wasn’t so sure his feeling was wrong.

~oOo~

Today he’s turning eighteen

Everyone’s singing, but he can’t seem to smile

They never get past arm’s length

How could they act like everything is alright?

~oOo~

Nightmare couldn’t help but watch Dream at their birthday party.

Most of the town was there, including their friends. Nightmare had danced and laughed with his gang before he realized that Dream was standing a corner alone. Blue and Ink, Dream’s closest friends were dancing together a few feet away. Dream seemed to watch them with a pained expression on his face.

Dream met Nightmare’s eyes and immediately straightened, pulled away from the wall and scurried upstairs. Nightmare watched him disappear, about to follow him, when Killer shoved a drink into his hand and pulled him away.

(Deep down, the feeling he had split into two, one still feeling something off and the other filled with worry and concern for Dream. Nightmare wouldn’t realize this for another few days.)

~oOo~

Pulling down his long sleeves

To cover all the memories that scars leave

He says, “Maybe making me bleed

Will be the answer that could wash the slate clean.”

~oOo~

(Nightmare was drunk after the party, thanks to his friends. But once the party ended, at around five in the morning, he stumbled upstairs to his bed, not registering the sobs and pain-filled noises coming from the bathroom.)

~oOo~

Every day’s the same

He fights to find his way

He hurts, he breaks,

He hides, and tries to pray

He wonders why,

Does anyone ever hear him when he cries?

~oOo~

Dream didn’t come out of his room after the party for days. Their mother didn’t notice, saying he was probably busy. Nightmare noticed, though.

He noticed the crying that almost seemed to never stop. The mumbling to one’s self, though he couldn’t make out the words. The lack of footsteps that meant no one left the bed and the sound of the mattress and bed as someone tossed and turned, the only sounds to say someone was alive.

Sometimes Nightmare caught himself standing in front of Dream’s door, hand raised to knock. He never did. He always walked away, convincing himself that something else was going on, that Dream was still perfect.

That didn’t stop the guilt from showing up once he entered his room.

Once Dream did leave his room, he acted normal. He didn’t look tired, he looked light and his smile and laugh seemed real. Nightmare couldn’t stop staring at him. For some reason, this was ringing too many alarms in his head to make him ignore it. Dream was acting to calm and too happy.

Nightmare didn’t get a chance to talk to him, though. Horror came and dragged him to his place for a New Years party. Guess the talk will have to wait till next year.

~oOo~

This is the dark before the dawn

The storm before the peace

~oOo~

(Nightmare couldn’t help but think about Dream’s goodbye. He said, “See you!” That’s it. Just those two words. Not “See you later!” or “See you soon!” or even the running joke of “See you next year!” Just “See you!” For some reason, this rang the biggest alarm in his head. But why?)

~oOo~

Don’t be afraid

The seasons change

~oOo~

“10!”

As everyone began to count down, Nightmare found himself thinking of Dream again. He couldn’t stop, especially now that the alarms had been going off in his head.

“9!”

But why did the alarms go off now? Why was his feeling getting so strong now?

“8!”

Dream was good. But maybe he wasn’t perfect.

“7!”

Maybe Dream could feel negative thoughts. Maybe those thoughts dragged him down.

“6! 5!”

Even so, why the alarms?

“4!”

Why did he feel he had to go back?

“3!”

That he had to check on Dream?

“2!”

Why? Why, why, why?

“1!”

And then, just as the clock turned to midnight and everyone around him shouted, everything clicked into place.

Depression. A mental disorder that is often described as numbness or “living in a black hole” or just sadness, overwhelming sadness and despair. Nightmare knew a few kids in the school that struggled with depression, like Comic. He knew the signs and symptoms. He also knew that most people who have it put on a false smile and made everyone around them happy while they slowly drowned.

And that fit Dream to a T. It all made sense now. Why he looked so tired, so heavy. Why there were sobs coming from his room almost every night. Why he was so calm today.

Nightmare didn’t realize that he had dropped his glass and that people were asking if he was okay. He could only focus on Dream. Dream, who was so calm and happy today. Dream, who had said “See you!” as a goodbye. Dream, who was very likely trying to kill himself right now.

“I have to go.” Nightmare said, not paying attention to any answers as he rushed out the door and into the snow. He stood there for a bit, cursing himself as he realized he couldn’t run in this, but he had to try.

A hand on his arm stopped him, turning him around to face the person. “Nightmare, what are you doing?” Cross asked, near shouting in his ear.

Nightmare breathed heavily, panic beginning to well up inside of him. “I have to get home, Cross, I have to.”

Cross blinked, tightening his grip when Nightmare tried to escape. “What? Why? Nightmare, calm down, and—”

“I can’t calm down, Cross!” Nightmare growled. “I have to get home before my idiot brother kills himself!

Silence rang. Cross was taken aback, no doubt expecting something far less serious. Nightmare struggled in his grip, trying to break free. He had to get home. He had to stop Dream. He couldn’t lose him. He—

“Okay, get in.”

Nightmare blinked. Cross had let go of him and walked over to his car, unlocking it and opening the passenger seat. He stared at Nightmare; his face dead serious.

Nightmare hurried over. He wasn’t going to question it right now.

The ride over was silent and speedy, but neither of them cared. They just wanted to get there in time. Cross abruptly parked in front of Nightmare’s house. Nightmare quickly got out, pausing before closing the car door and rushing inside.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t. Just stop him.” And then Cross drove off.

~oOo~

And the Stars are watching over you

They hear you

~oOo~

Nightmare rushed upstairs, glancing quickly to Dream’s bedroom door, which was open and the room luckily empty of hanging bodies. He shivered. He stopped in front of the bathroom, the next place he could be.

Nightmare felt panic overtake him, his hand shook as he raised it to knock. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t stop Dream. What if Dream was already dead? Did he overdose? Drown himself? Cut himself? He can’t. Can’t, can’t, can’t, can’t, ca—

Two gentle knocks. “Dream?”

His voice was weak and threatened to crack. Nightmare took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Panicking wouldn’t do good to either of them at the moment.

“Dream?” He said again, laying his hand on the door as a grounding. It was silent on the other side. “Dream, I…Can we…I—I…You…Fuck, I’m bad at this.” Nightmare laughed weakly, tears starting to flow. He rested his forehead on the door.

“Dream, do you remember, on our fifth birthday? That night you asked me something, y—you asked me, ‘Night, when we’re older, are we always gonna be there for each other?’. I said yes. That of course we would be. We even pinky promised that.” Nightmare fell to his knees, forehead and hand still on the door. “Maybe, we didn’t live up to that. Maybe, we could have tried harder. I could have tried harder.

“But Dream, I love you, so much. So, so much. You can’t possibly begin to imagine it. I know I don’t say it as often as I should. I know that I probably made you feel alone. But I love you. I love you with the strength of a billion suns. I don’t want…I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and find that you're gone. I don’t want to have to look at your room in remembrance every day. I don’t want to have to bury my best friend before his time.”

Nightmare held back a sob and watched the door with pleading eyes, his vision blurry from tears. “I know you’re hurting. I know you feel alone, like everyone looks through you, not at you. But…b—but…you’re beautiful. So please don’t go. You are loved so much more than you know. That’s why you’re beauti…ful…”

Nightmare trailed off. He didn’t have anything else to say. God, he was so bad at this. Then, though it was faint, he heard it. A sob. No from him, but from the other side of the door.

Nightmare pulled back from the door, his eyes wide with tears still streaming down. There was a clatter, like something metal having fallen to the ground. There was also some shuffling, like someone getting up, which prompted Nightmare to stand as well.

A click. The door was unlocked and it slowly opened.

Dream was shaking badly, tears streaming from his face faster than the ones on Nightmares’. His eyes were dull, so full of pain and sadness that it made Nightmare’s heart constrict in sympathy. Nightmare tried to smile, and it probably worked, as Dream sobbed once more before reaching forward, Nightmare reaching as well.

They wrapped each other in a tight hug, Dream sobbing and whispering apologies, Nightmare shushing him and whispering comforting words. They both fell to their knees again. Nightmare tightened his hold, like if he let go the other would disappear.

And, Nightmare thought, pressing a kiss to Dream’s forehead before Dream buried his face in Nightmare’s shoulder, prompting Nightmare to start rubbing his back in comfort, he was just so glad he made it in time.

~oOo~

Every day’s the same

He fights to find his way

He hurts, he breaks,

He hides, and tries to pray

~oOo~

They both decided Dream would sleep in Nightmare’s room for now, until they both felt comfortable sleeping in opposite rooms again.

Dream was sleeping lightly now, tear tracks still visible on his face, curled up beside Nightmare on his bed. Nightmare had an arm around Dream, tucking him in close. He smiled at it, relief still filling him.

In his other hand, his phone buzzed, drawing his attention to it. Nightmare blinked. It was a text message from Cross.

C: Is Dream okay?

Nightmare smiled a bit. Cross was a good friend and Nightmare knew that he cared about Dream greatly, perhaps more than friends would. He would help to get Dream back on his feet. Nightmare typed out a quick reply.

N: Yes, I got to him just in time. Thanks again for the ride.

C: No problem.

C: That’s what friends are for, right?

N: Yes, “Friends”

N: But seriously, thank you.

N: I don’t think I would have made it without your help.

It took Cross a moment to type back, the three dots appearing and disappearing again.

C: Don’t mention it.

C: But, uh, we’re going to have to talk.

C: Everyone’s sort of wondering where you went? Why you left in a rush??

C: What do you want me to tell them?

Nightmare paused. He didn’t think of that. Dream shifted beside him, lifting his head to squint at the phone.

“’s it Cross?” He said, voice slurring from sleepiness.

“Yes.” Nightmare smiled a bit but hesitated to tell him the rest. “He’s asking what to tell the others, as I left the house in rush and Cross drove me.”

Dream was silent. His eyes had unfocused again. Nightmare grew a bit worried, however he knew there wasn’t anything he could do. He couldn’t control Dream’s mind, and even if he could, he wouldn’t.

Finally, Dream shook his head and buried his head into Nightmare’s chest. “He can tell them what happened.”

Nightmare bit his lip. “Are you sure?”

Dream nodded.

Nightmare sighed and began to text Cross back.

N: Dream says you can tell then what happened.

N: But leave out some major details, okay?

C: Are you sure?

N: Yes. Dream will need a support system.

N: Who better than his friends?

C: Okay, as long as you’re sure.

Nightmare shut his phone off and let his hand drop to the bed. Dream had fallen back asleep, his hand grabbing Nightmare’s tightly. Nightmare smiled again and let himself hope.

He knew that Dream would be okay again.

~oOo~

He’ll be just fine,

Cause I know he hears her when he cries

~oOo~

The rest of the year passed without another major problem. Dream did get into a few funks, but Nightmare sat with him and watched movies with him until it passed.

Their friends had made it their duty to start a group chat with all of them, one rule being that you have to send a wholesome meme as soon as you woke up, to remind the others about the good in the world. The group chat had helped Dream out greatly, and Nightmare too.

Nightmare also worked up the courage to confront Dream about the long sleeves, even if he already knew the answer. Dream had started crying and let Nightmare roll up his sleeves, muttering apologies as he traced over the cuts. Nightmare had smiled and said that he was fine, that the scars showed how brave Dream truly was. That made Dream cry even harder. They spent the rest of that day hugging and cuddling.

Dream got progressively happy as the year wore on. His smiles were genuine and true, his laugh felt like bells. He even started writing again, after Nightmare had mentioned that he could write how he felt, in a therapeutic way. Dream had had wide eyes after Nightmare said that, saying he never thought of it like that.

Nightmare helped Dream the most. He was there every step of the way. The two were as close as they were when they were children, perhaps even more so. This all was proven as they graduated, Nightmare clapping the loudest for Dream, smiling so wide.

Yes, everything was great.

~oOo~

Every day’s the same

He fights to find his way

He hurts, he breaks,

He hides, and tries to pray

He’ll be just fine,

Cause I know he hears her when he cries

~oOo~

Nightmare, if you asked him, would say that yes, he did believe in black and white.

Or so he had said about a year ago, when his world was normal and grounded, not this uneasy place that cracked with every action he made.

Now, if you were to ask him, he would smile sadly.

“Imagine,” He would say, “imagine two people. One was so bubbly, they bounced in place. They helped everyone they could. They hated seeing another person sad. They were the epitome of positivity. The other, however, wasn’t. They dragged their feet where ever they went, slouching too. They brought down the mood of every room they were in. They were the epitome of negativity.

“Now, out of these two, who would be the sicker person? Who would have anxiety, depression, the likes of them? Who would be more suicidal? You would think the negative one, right? But you see, what the personality they have on the outside, doesn’t always match to the one on the inside. The positive one could have a negative mind, whereas the negative one could have a positive mind.

“So, no I don’t believe in black and white, rather I believe in everything in-between. It’s just a shame I had to realize it the hard way, that people shouldn’t judge something based on how it appears.”

RNM 2x10 - American Woman

EPISODE SUMMARY:

SECRETS OF THE PAST — After uncovering a cryptic message from the past, Alex (Tyler Blackburn), Isobel (Lily Cowles), Max (Nathan Dean), Michael (Michael Vlamis) and Maria (Heather Hemmens) set out in search of answers at the reservation where Alex’s mother grew up. Meanwhile, Cameron (guest star Riley Voelkel) encourages Liz (Jeanine Mason) to reach out to someone from her past after Auturo (guest star Carlos Compean) gets detained. Marcus Stokes directed the episode written by Rick Montano & Vincent Ingaro & Jason Gavin (#210). Original airdate 5/18/2020. 

DETAILS:

Tripp brings Louise to the Reservation in a body bag where the Navajo doctors are able to save her life.

"Your message said that you were gonna bring two women that would be no trouble.  This looks like a lot of trouble."

"I must have gotten the codes wrong."

"No, don't give me that Manes man nonsense. Not here in my own home."

"Her name is Louise. I promised her friend Nora I'd protect them. My brother triggered an ambush before I could get them here. And Nora…"

"Wait, what does the Air Force want them for?"

"They're not from around here. They're from...up north."

"Yìiyáh. No. She can't stay here… What if your brother comes here and finds a fugitive.  I can't put my people at risk for a white woman."

"Please. You're the only person I trust. If she doesn't make it, it was all for nothing."

"I'll have you remember that I was the one that saved your ass in Okinawa. I don't owe you anything. I'm only doing this because you're my family. And because I'm a damn fool."

A few notes on this scene:

--I don't know why Tripp pretends he got the codes wrong.  Unless he's spiraling and talking about the timing of the attack.  But it seems like he means the message that he was bringing them to the reservation.  Clearly things didn't go according to plan.  Though, it is always possible that we're still missing bits of the story.

--OG Easter Egg.  "They're not from around here.  They're from up north." For anyone who didn't watch OG, this is almost exactly how the exchange went when Max told Liz he was an alien in the 1999 pilot.

--Yìiyáh - I found nothing on this word.  I'm assuming that it's a curse word or general exclamation of negativity, but literally got zero results on google. It's possible, of course, that it's misspelled in the captions.  There were a lot of errors in the captions in this opening scene.

--While there really isn't any overt statement that Alex is half Navajo and this town is part of Navajo Nation (which has been in the news a lot lately and therefore is a good place in this country to be aware of), there's lots of clues or subtle enough statements that I feel like it can be accepted as fact, since: Harrison is a codetalker, the necklace is Navajo, tsela is a Navajo word. So I did a little peeking and it could work.  The closest Navajo town is about a 4 hour drive from Roswell.

Navajo Nation: 

(side note - Navajo Nation has extreme poverty but also is utterly gorgeous. And the Tribe gets income from tourism. Just a few places there that I'm dying to go? Monument Valley, Antelope Canyon, Shiprock.  Check it out.)

Liz comments on Max's irregular heartbeat, with literally no acknowledgment of the fact that she's straddling him and has a history of causing his heart to race...and other forms of lack of control (think 1x03).

"I'm excited about this though. You know Alex dug up all that info on our bio Mom. You sure you can't come?"

"Got to take my dad in for his blood tests. I want to check on Jenna too.  Cannot believe she's back in the hospital again."

"She's been in pain for weeks. I have no leads on the mysterious hunting van, and Charlie hasn't made contact."

"Hmm. To be fair, I do hear that phone service is a little spotty in flying saucers."

"Okay, I get that. You think my alien abduction theory is bogus."

"I know you're worried that this has something to do with you, but I don't think this is an alien thing."

"Cam and I had fractal burns on our necks. We had no memory of what happened. That's alien stuff. I just want clarity on something."

--Note that it's past time to abandon all hope of anything resembling a defined timeline for this show...once again we have weeks passing between episodes. This is the second time this season that the time passing has only been generically described as "weeks".  It's been at least a year since Liz came back to Roswell (per her conversation with Diego), but a year would be summer (late May or early June, specifically), and in this episode Isobel mentions that it's winter (which would be a year and a half).

Maria's pitch:

"In conclusion, esteemed members of the Roswell Tourism Board, while the Pony is normally a sanctuary for locals during CrashCon, I think that my plan to turn it into the Contact Cantina Pop-Up Bar will be a hit with alien fans."

"We're talking more money than we first speculated, aren't we now?"

"You know, Mayor Bernhardt, I forgot to tell you about our new morning cocktail… It's coffee, vanilla cream, and our best bourbon. Let me get you a double."

Note: so this is the famous Mayor Bernhardt. Funded by the Long family. Doesn't like immigrants. Had a racist relative who wouldn't give first prize to the black man.

Maria's vision…

Herself, younger, sitting at the Pony bar. 

"You have to let me go! You're just crazy! And I'm trapped!"

And then she runs from the bar crying.

She's not wearing the necklace.

Describing it to Michael:

"I had a vision, but it was more like a memory. Of a fight I had with my mom when I was younger."

Isobel interrupts Michael and Maria to pick them up for the road trip. Just a few relevant excepts from this scene:

"Pack your bags. We're going on a family road trip."

"Is this why Max wanted the day off?"

"In the photo of Max and Isobel's bio Mom, there was a water tower. Alex recognized that water tower from the town where his mom grew up. You should come with us."

Alex and Forrest talk in the Crashdown:

"Hope that limp isn't from a paintball injury."

"Nope. Those bruises have mostly healed. I just got a new prosthetic. Takes a minute to get used to. You working on your book?"

"I write my book on my computer.  However, I write my angsty emo poetry in an angsty emo journal."

"I'm actually working on some poetry myself. Well, song lyrics, technically. It's a lot harder than it was in high school."

"Yeah, writing was easier for me when I was a kid too. Feelings...we bury 'em now. You just got to find that thing inside of you that doesn't have a voice. Lend it yours. You know? Listen, I have like, zero musical talent, but if you need help with the worst part, we could, uh…"

"Actually I'm leaving tomorrow for a few days to go talk to some recruits."

Michael interruptus, and the conversation goes casual.

--What happened to "angsty nerd isn't really my type." Or...was it FORESHADOWING!!!?! 😂

--Oh hi there clear shot of Forrest's clearly Deep Sky logoed ring…

Cam has been having debilitating migraines that have been keeping her bedridden since the abduction.

Nurse Kate is a badass. she tries to keep ICE from getting into a patient's room. Liz hears her and hurries to the waiting room, where there's more ICE activity. Liz panics and tries to get Arturo out of the hospital, but she caught the attention of the ICE officers. However, Liz knows her rights.

"He has applied for his green card. I'm his sponsor, okay? This is his G-1145 right here."

"You can show that to the court."

"It's okay. Call the lawyer."

"No. He is a diabetic. It is illegal to detain a patient."

"Exigent circumstances. Move."

"No. Hey, this is an unconstitutional arrest and the ACLU will be all over you."

"Elizabeth, we respect the law in this family. If you're in trouble, who will take care of the mouse?"

--G-1145 is a request for confirmation that your green card application has been accepted:

--The timing of this all. Liz has been prepared for this moment all her life and would fight it to the point of getting arrested herself, if not for Rosa. Rosa's safety is the only thing that convinces Liz to step aside.

--As an only semi related note, this is a really interesting contrast to how they wrote Jeanine's character out on Grey's Anatomy.  

--Also feel like it would be remiss of me to not point out Liz's reactiveness and fightinf mentality is mirroring how Liz initially reacted to Max pulling her over in the pilot.

"Okay. So the Deputy on call says there's one detention center in the county. Here's the info."

"He doesn't have anything left in Mexico. No one. Nowhere to go."

"You can't think like that right now."

"I think like this always. Rosa and I used to recite our escape plan for if our parents got deported and we got separated in foster care. I begged my parents not to tell Santa where we lived because I was afraid he'd ask for papers. My whole life was built on a fear of this day coming, and it's here. If I'd have kept better track of his health, he wouldn't need these tests. I should have made him move to California. I thought we were safe being outside the hundred-mile zone, but after this election I should have known better. And I should have made him wear a sweater this morning because it's freezing out there. And what if he…?"

"...okay think. Is there someone we can call?"

"Kyle's at a conference, but I can have him call his mom."

"Do you know anyone with some real power? You know, Federal muscle?"

Cam gets dressed to take Liz to the Detention Center and Liz calls Diego for help.

The road trip group arrive at the reservation and meet Gregory Manes.  He says he remembers them all from high school.  He takes Max, Michael, and Isobel to learn about Louise while Alex and Maria go jewelry shopping.

Meanwhile Gregory is taking the Pod Squad to Louise's grave, but pauses for some flirting:

"You're still the Isobel Evans who convinced the basketball captain to pull four different fire alarms to get out of AP Gov, right? Yeah, legend. Here she is."

"Oh my God, it's covered in flowers.  It's winter."

"Rumor is they grow year-round unattended. She was a healer. I'm told she helped with trauma, addiction, that sort of thing. All without speaking."

"This another grave?"

"She was pregnant."

"Louise arrived gravely injured. And the baby didn't survive.

--Louise died the same day the Pod Squad came out of the pods, confirming that she is probably the old woman on the reservation that was described in 1x09.

--Michael found the mysterious purple flowers growing on Louise's grave.

Alex and Maria at the trading post.

"Are you okay? Seem a little off."

"I had a vision during a meeting this morning. It almost cost me a deal that could save the bar. Maybe I should just wear the necklace. Go back to being a social media guru. Slash barkeep. Slash magical trope in our redneck mayor's fantasy."

"So why did you really come today? Your ideal day off isn't fighting for the radio silence with Isobel Evans, so…"

"This is the back of my necklace. The word stamped in the silver says Tsela. The necklace is Navajo, so I thought maybe that was the jeweler, but no one I've asked here seems to know who made it. I just want answers."

"Well, there's a ton of silver jewelry for sale here. So why don't we just keep looking for something with the same stamp?"

Pod Squad sharing a bottle of acetone by Louise's grave.

"Noah said our planet was war-torn. But the hell they found here can't have been worth it."

"Do you think that Louise's baby died from her injuries or do you think maybe it was never going to survive?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I was pregnant. When you died. Obviously I'm not anymore. I just can't help wondering if that was my last chance. Assuming that humans and aliens can't procreate because they're different species. Maybe that little baby wasn't viable."

"You almost died during the abortion, didn't you? I could feel it. Noah almost killed you again, huh? Oh, I need a minute."

After Max leaves Michael offers to be a sperm donor for Isobel if she ever wants to have a kid.

Liz at the Detainment Center

"It's Ortecho. Arturo Ortecho. He's my dad. And he needs gliclazide and beta-blockers. I brought both."

"We can't take contraband here, but there is an infirmary on-site, if he's here."

"You know, out of curiosity, did Nebane Abienwi visit an infirmary before he died of a brain bleed in your custody? What about Johana Medina León? She was 25 years old, okay? People walk through those doors and they die...Who's your supervisor? You need prior approval before conducting enforcement in a hospital. There was a compliance memo."

"Right, a memo, which is just like a law only not. Unless you calm down, I'm gonna arrest you for obstruction."

"Okay, Liz, maybe sit down.  Sir, I'm Deputy Jenna Cameron, and we appreciate your interpretation of your guidelines, but we have an urgent health concern about an inmate here, if you just wouldn't mind checking the system."

Jenna goes with the agent…when she returns...

"Do you have a court case next week for a vandalism charge?"

"What? Yes, but I didn't do it. I'm just gonna plead guilty and pay the fine. It's nothing."

"They denied your dad's green card application because of a misdemeanor on your record. You can't be his sponsor."

Jenna's headaches overtake her. Meanwhile, the ICE agent comes back with news:

"Here just came up. Ortecho is being transferred to El Paso for his deportation hearing. You can see him there around Tuesday."

--Liz's misdemeanor is taking the fall for Rosa's vandalism from when she was arrested by Sheriff Valenti in 2x02.

Gregory takes the Pod Squad to see Harrison who is on his death bed.  Manes boys are always welcome here, the woman tells them. Harrison is the only one Louise ever spoke to on the reservation.

"He met my great uncle Tripp Manes fighting in WWII.  Harry was a code talker."

Michael gets Gregory to leave with him so that Max and Isobel can go inside of Harrison's head. Their conversation:

"You look like her."

"Harrison.  You look different."

"That was a lesson I learned from Louise. How to take your mind to a better time when you're in pain. Come on. I haven't seen the sky in a while. I'll tell you about her...I taught Tripp the codes in the Pacific. That's how we set up the rescue. He was supposed to snuggle Louise and Nora here, but the plan fell apart."

In the past between Harrison and Tripp:

"You've changed. The man I met on that ship obeyed orders."

"Guess I saw what happens when good men fall in line with bad orders. I'm a Christian, Harry. When evil itself tells me to kill a woman with child, I disobey. Even if the evil looks just like my brother."

A nurse rolls Louise into the room in a wheelchair.

"Did you find a family for her?"

"There should be music where you take her. I think she's a dancer."

"You can give her a house full of music, Louise. Nora wanted me to protect you so that you could protect the child."

"No. He's coming for me and I can't even move. No. When the devil comes, I won't be able to fight for her. Please. It is hard to be a woman on your planet.  It's only gonna be harder still for her. Roy Bronson believed in meeting hatred with compassion. And I want her to be like him. A light in the darkness. A little star on the ground. I want that for both my girls."

"Where did he take the baby?"

"Can't say."

"No. Tell us where our sister went."

"She isn't your sister. Louise rarely spoke, but when she did, she spoke of two daughters. Two stars on the ground. She had no sons. You aren't hers. You came from something else...She lived for decades longer than she should have, trapped inside of a body that could no longer dance, waiting for a sign that you would be all right. She loved you."

Jenna wakes up back at the hospital.

"I asked them to run a new test. Your headaches are spinal headaches. Because there was a hole torn into your spinal cord."

"I'm sorry, what? My kidnappers gave me a spinal tap?"

"Do you mind signing off so I can look at your tox screen?"

"Yeah, of course, but, Liz, you don't have to do this, okay? Your dad, and…"

"I need a distraction. I can't leave for El Paso until tomorrow, and they're not letting him have visitors other than his lawyer until Tuesday, so...thank you for being here. You used your privilege to help me. I'm furious that I needed it, but I needed it."

--Reposado is a type of tequila

--Spinal Headaches:

Isobel and Max on what they learned from Harrison:

"You've always been different than me and Michael, okay? Always. You were the leader. From the start. I mean, you're the special one. You're the healer."

"I was. Now I can't even sneeze without my heart skipping a beat. All my life, no matter how weird things got, I never felt alone. Because I was your twin. Maybe I'm different. Maybe I'm a freak...I can't stop thinking about being chained up when I was a kid. It didn't feel like someone bad chained me up. It felt like I was the someone bad."

"Max, you're not dangerous."

"Saving people destroys me. But killing Noah? That felt good. I was high. And whenever I think about what he did to you, I want to chase that high. I wish I could kill him a thousand times. Louise mentioned the devil. Maybe something evil was chasing them. And maybe that something was me."

"Okay. I want to show you something. You see this hand on her shoulder there? See, Michael thought it was just someone who got cropped out of the photo, but no. Any female would recognize that body language. She does not want that hand on her. Louise said the devil would come. I think something evil was after them, but it wasn't you. I want to find out who it was."

Alex and Gregory:

"Hey, I just wanted to say thank you before we go. I also feel like I should congratulate you on getting out."

"Of the Navy?"

"Of the family. Getting out from under Dad."

"You got to break free of him, man."

"Do you feel free?"

"I don't think I get to be free until you are, Alex. You know, you're my brother. I wish that I would've stood up for you more."

"You know, I think he's actually getting a little bit better. It's like the stroke melted away the psycho in his brain or something." 

"If you can forgive him you should. Cast off the stone. Let me hate him for you. I owe you that much."

Back at the trading post with the whole road trip group.

"We scoured the store for jewelry that said Tsela on it, but nada. Although I did manage to spend an entire week's worth of tips anyway."

"Tsela?"

"Yeah it was printed on the back of my grandmother's necklace. I thought I might find some answers here."

"Well, apparently, it is Navajo for star on the ground. So, you guys ready to go?"

"Star on the ground.  Maria? What year was your grandmother born?"

"Uh, '48, I think?"

"Was she adopted?"

"Yeah. Oh my God."

"Your grandmother was my sister."

Note: The direct translation of Tsela is stars lying down. Interestingly, it's often a name in Navajo. When I googled it, the top results were names for Navajo boys.

Diego and Liz's conversation:

"Diego, I never would have reached out if it weren't an emergency. Thank your mom for me."

"The Senator was more than happy to call in a favor. She's always liked you."

"I like her too. We need more people like her."

"Look, we got lucky your dad got out at all, much less without an ankle monitor. And you pissed a few people off back there, so it's not likely that this is the end for you. Who's your lawyer? Or should I make some calls?"

"No, you've done enough. After what I did, I can't even believe you listened to my voicemail...How did you get here so fast?"

"I was at the airport in Phoenix when you called. Just had to reroute real fast."

"And how have you been?"

"Well, my fiancée left me. I'm kidding. No, I'm seeing someone.  It's getting pretty serious, so…"

"Good. Me too."

"Good. We can be friends...And don't take this the wrong way. Please tell me you're not wasting that incredible brain of yours writing alien hamburger puns."

"I am working on a few projects. Nothing I can talk about, but, I'm not wasting anything."

"Well, all the coolest studies make you sign NDAs anyway, so…"

"You know what? There actually is something...Do you know what butyricol is?  Worth a shot. It's this chemical I found in my friend's tox screen. I had never heard of it."

"Maybe you're slacking, Ortecho."

"I am sorry, it has only been a year. Did you literally forget everything about me?"

Note: I'm very pleased to say that when I googled butyricol, half of the top results were RNM related.  Definitely not a real drug.

Malex fight in the bunker:

"We're closed!"

"Hey, that alien console piece that Jim Valenti left me...You still have it?"

"No. I sold it on eBay."

"You didn't attach it to your console."

"I tried. Doesn't fit."

"So, Tripp left this for my dad before he died. My dad thought it was a code, but this is a reference sketch of this exact piece. My dad's been looking for this thing for 30 years and Jim Valenti had it all along...I'm gonna give it to him. I want to see what he does with it once he's got it. Look, if it didn't fit in your console, then it fits somewhere else. My dad could lead us there.""Your dad hunts aliens, Alex. He'll lead my family right off a cliff."

"I've protected you so far. That's not changing. Besides, he's different these days...I don't trust him, Guerin. I just…I'm asking you to trust me.""When we were kids, you believed people were good, despite humanity doing everything to prove you otherwise. And, God, I loved you for it. But what was charming when we were 17, it's just stupid now. How do you not see that? You believe there's some good in your father?"

"Yeah. Yeah I do. God forbid I have faith in people who don't give me a good reason to."

"That's not fair."

"No? Why is your hand covered? You miss your injury because you want to hurt. Your anger made you feel safe. I will always hate my father for what he did to you, but I don't want to live in that toolshed for the rest of my life. I don't want to walk around thinking that people don't change, that one day everyone's just gonna let me down, 'cause I am not building a damn rocket ship in a hidden lair. There's one way for me off this planet. And I need to believe in a reason to stay. I promise I'll keep you safe."

"Can't let you leave with that."

"What are you gonna do? Fight me for it?"

And then Alex leaves and is kidnapped. Hit over the head by an unknown assailant. The note from Tripp blows away.

Max and Liz are talking back at Max's house while Max drinks a lot of bourbon.

"You know, you never told me why your parents immigrated here in the first place."

"My dad wanted a family, but not in Juárez. There was no opportunity, no money. Women were disappearing there all the time. He didn't want my mom to be one of them. So he fled. You're wondering why your family came here."

"If I even had a family. I know so little about my own story. And the parts I thought I understood are just unraveling."

"Max. Family is the one area where I am certain that biology does not matter. Look, when I found out that Rosa was only my half sister that didn't change anything."

"This is different...There are only three of us on this planet, as far as we know. I mean, feeling disconnected from them makes me feel completely alone."

"Completely alone? I'm right here."

"When you needed a rescue today your Mensa society, old money son of a senator ex was there to answer your prayers. I couldn't even answer a call. You didn't need me."

"Oh my God. Okay, so would you prefer that I did need you? Would you prefer to come home to find me crying into my dad's windbreaker so that you can swoop me up and drive me to El Paso for his deportation hearing in the morning?"

"That's not fair. You wanted me to talk about today."

"Yes, okay. I'm sorry. I want you to feel better."

"Well, you think maybe you could go back in time and not meet someone as handsome as Diego? Seriously. He's like if someone mixed a cologne ad with a Kennedy. It's ridiculous. I will never feel adequate again."

"You're wrong. Max, let me be clear. You are objectively better in bed...And I never woke up on a Sunday morning to him singing Hank Williams in the shower...He never snuck unreasonable tips into my dad's checks. Or quoted Henry the Fourth. Coming home to you at the end of my worst days and my best days is the only rescue I need."

I actually found this background on the Ortechos to be fascinating.  In case you don't know Juárez is a pretty big city directly opposite the border from El Paso. It does have some huge crime issues. But it also is one of those border cities where the border is a little thinner. Like San Diego and Tijuana.  People live in Juárez and work in El Paso and vice versa.

If you want to see a really dark & gritty portrayal of Juárez, I'd highly recommend you to check out the American version of the show The Bridge.  Which literally deals with an investigation related to disappearing women.

Isobel and Maria at the Pony:

"She looks so determined."

"Yeah, neither of us would be here if she hadn't been. You know she was paralyzed 50 years and she still managed to use her powers to help ease troubled minds. You know how hard that is? To take on someone else's suffering? I mean, it doesn't just disappear. She would have been carrying all of that."

"She suffered so much loss."

"I don't know how to be worth it."

Michael on the bracelet.

"The beads are made with pollen from the alien flower. I found another plant growing at Louise's grave. Okay my working theory is that they grow from alien remains. There's this UFO lore about that Libyan desert where the flowers have been discovered before. You don't have to wear it if you don't want to. I know better than to think I can save Maria DeLuca. I hope you decide you can save yourself."

Max is still drinking after Liz went to bed.  At 4:04am Diego calls and wakes her up. 

"I made a call, about that toxin in your friend's system. Butyricol. It's a drug. It's a memory eraser. It was developed by a private organization and purchased by the military for weaponization. There's no approved application outside of violent combat."

Liz tries to call Alex, but he's too busy being unconscious in the back of his SUV.  So his kidnapper pockets his phone.

Max has a memory flash. There's fighting, weapons clashing, a woman's voice...all while he's chained down in the cave. Louise appears and kneels down to touch his shoulder.  He looks afraid, but she's trying to comfort him (even though she has blood splattered all over her white clothes). She smiles and nods and then cuts Max free of the chains with her alien weapon. She offers him her hand, but before he can take it a figure in white appears and he and Louise fight. Max cries out and hides his face.

Present day Max is visibly shook by the flash.

MUSIC:

1.  Shelly Fairchild "Worry No More"

2.  Powerslide "Just You And I"

3.  Will Fox "Against The Tide"

4.  Tommee Profitt feat. Sam Tinnesz "Bullet With Butterfly Wings"

Gifted

Title: Gifted (Sequel to Giftless)

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 36/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: 

Imagine that you are Stark’s niece and you secretly share a strong relationship with Loki since he entered the crew. One day you get hurt so bad during a mission that you are about to die.  Loki knows a spell that will save you and share his immortality with you but you and he will be linked forever sharing thoughts, pain, emotions…

RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS:  Also on AO3 click here

You woke to the feel of magic in the air.  You were terrified for a moment that this was a nightmare since you didn’t remember Loki spelling you to sleep. You had fallen asleep in a pile of bodies, pillows, and blankets. You sat up, earning a grumble from Pepper when she was moved. You sighed in relief. Pepper and your super friends wouldn’t be in a nightmare from Balder. You made your way to your feet, still looking for where the feel of magic was coming from. You shook Loki awake, surprised he was sleeping through it. His eyes snapped open when you shook him. He jumped to his feet too once he felt the magic.  You  stepped around the bodies of your friends to the other end of the common room where the feel of magic was coming from.

An instant later a portal opened in front of you. You drew a dagger and a fireThor in an instant. Loki had a dagger and a bolt of magic ready too. A figure stepped through the portal. It was Thor. You and Loki both vanished your weapons the moment you realized it was him. You hugged Thor the second the portal snapped shut behind him. /Thor! What are you doing here?/ Thor swung you around, like he hadn’t seen you in ages, even though it had only been a day.

“Mother sent me to spend the day with you. She said today is your actual birthday, and sent you with a gift,” Thor explained, setting you back on your feet. He then hugged Loki and swung him around too. Loki’s curses and your laughter woke your friends.

Most of them groggily greeted Thor and filed off to their own beds to finish out the night there. It was only around 3am. Tony and Pepper stayed with us, though. “Pepper, you can go up to bed,” Tony told Pepper, who was being carried by Tony. Pepper’s tail was dragging almost to the floor. Pepper just made a small mewing noise and shifted more comfortably in Tony’s arms. Tony just sighed.

“What gift did Mother send you with?” Loki asked Thor, curious. Neither of you asked how Frigga had known. She could see the future after all, and always seemed to find the exact thing people needed at any given moment.

“A spell that I am not allowed to share with you, Brother,” Thor answered, though hesitantly. It was rare for Loki not to be allowed to learn new magic. “It has been cast, it just needs one final thing to activate. It is also only for today,“ he explained. "Sister, may I have a dagger?” Thor asked pleasantly. You handed yours to him without a thought. It was Thor after all.

“Blood magic?” Loki demanded indignantly. Blood magic was not allowed. It was outlawed on Asgard and Loki wasn’t even allowed to learn it.  

Thor shrugged. “I do not presume to understand such things,” Thor hedged. He looked to me. “Mother’s gift is for your voice. For the day. She is close to finding a proper cure. I volunteered to help. I wish to spend your birthday with you, little sister,” you nodded and gave him a hug. “Please do not deny Mother’s gift. She would be quite disappointed.” You nodded again, but knew that there was a price to it, if he was telling you not to deny it. He was wisely not telling you what it was.  He knew you too well. 

“Brother, no. Blood magic is forbidden,” Loki protested firmly.  

“Mother has insisted,” Thor replied. Before Loki could protest again, Thor grabbed your wrist, flipping your hand over to see your palm. You bit back a noise of pain when he dragged the dagger across the skin of your palm. Tony and Loki both hissed in anger and took a step forward. Thor quickly sliced his own palm open, then placed his bleeding hand on top of yours so your blood mixed. He murmured one word, softly enough that Loki wouldn’t be able to hear it. You felt and saw the magic flare. Thor nodded when the magic faded.

“It’s…done?” you asked hesitantly, your voice cracking slightly with disuse. No one passed out. None of them were bleeding from their ears. You leapt for Thor and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Thank you!” you exclaimed.

Loki came over to the pair of you. “That was stupid, Thor,” he commented. “Children, let me see your hands,” he ordered. You both held out your still bleeding palms.  It wasn’t like Loki to call you children.  He must’ve been really upset. 

You saw Thor’s glare and caught his thoughts. You’re one to talk, little brother. Thor didn’t have telepathy, but he grew up with at least two telepaths, and had learned to communicate with them, the same was you had when you didn’t have powers of your own.

Loki healed your palms, while you looked at Thor confused. “Why-?”

“He took the power himself for the day,” Loki explained grumpily.

“Thor!” you yelled. “You shouldn’t have done that!”

We wanted to give you a happy birthday, little sister. Just accept the gift and say ‘thank you’. It is just for one day. Thor replied with a grin.

You bit back your emotions and nodded. You stood up on your toes to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you,” you told him softly.

“How do you get her to do that?” Tony demanded. You all looked at him confused. “She’s so…compliant,” you glared at him for that.

“Thor has some bad habits that make arguing with him unwise,” you replied grumpily.

“You will have to enlighten me before you go home,” Tony told Thor with respect in his voice.  

“No!” You and Loki exclaimed at the same time. Thor just grinned. He then swept over and the next moment, you and Loki had been thrown over his shoulders. “Thor!” You complained, pounding on his back. He didn’t let us down. Tony howled with laughter.

“Don’t you dare!” you ordered Tony, who you could see get the same idea. You saw Pepper taking pictures from Tony’s arms and couldn’t help but laughing at what an amusing sight this was. Thor carried you upstairs. Tony followed behind, at least to his floor, carrying Pepper with him. Thor had been here plenty of times before and knew where your suites were. There were still a few hours before your birthday celebrations officially began, so Thor wanted you to sleep before them. Like that was going to happen. He set you on our feet outside of your suite’s door. He gestured to Loki’s suite across the hall. “Yes, you can stay in Loki’s suite. He’ll stay with me,” you answered his question. He nodded and went to get a few more hours of sleep.

You and Loki went into your sitting room and closed the door firmly behind you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and wouldn’t stop whispering how much you love him for a good ten minutes at least. He held you tightly to him. “I love you too, darling,” he finally answered with a smile in his voice when your whispers had paused.

“Sorry, I missed being able to say that to you,”

He chuckled. “Darling, you never have to apologize for telling me that you love me,” he replied. “Should I even bother trying to convince you to get some rest?” he asked with loving exasperation. 

You shook your head. “No,” you replied, pleasantly.

“Then what would you like to do?” he asked instead. You stood up on your toes and kissed him. Well. ”You do come up with the very best plans,“ he purred. You giggled and spent the next few hours between kissing and talking. You had missed this part of your relationship so much. You’d had kisses, of course, but the late night chats were a lot harder when one of you couldn’t actually speak.

Tony burst into your sitting room, where Loki and you were sitting on the couch talking later that morning. It was still early, though. He had a balloon and a stuffed animal with him. He also had Pepper and Thor trailing behind him. "Happy birthday!” Tony announced, echoed by Pepper. you jumped up and hugged him.

“Thanks so much,” you replied, hugging each of them in turn.

"Get dressed, imp. It’s time to get going,” Tony grinned. You laughed and used magic to change your clothes to jeans, a dark green sweater, and your converse because you still loved them. You made sure your jewelry was in place, the two bracelets from Loki, the necklace of your mom’s that we had saved from the fire with a silent apology to Sif that you weren’t wearing her necklace, and the promise ring from Loki. You also made sure your dagger sheath was securely in place. You didn’t go anywhere without it. You looked over at Loki. He had conjured outfits for himself and Thor. Thor was in jeans, a t-shirt and a red flannel shirt over it. It was strange to see Thor in Earth clothes, but they looked good on him. Loki was in jeans and an elegant sweater over a button-down shirt. Pepper was wearing a hat to hide the fact that she still had cat-ears. She had at least managed to vanish her tail. She still had trouble with her powers some days. “Imp, do you mind if Pepper comes with us today?” Tony asked nervously.

You shook your head. “Not at all. She’s always welcome,” you replied with a smile. Both Tony and Pepper lit up. Tony wrapped his arm around your shoulders. Yours automatically went around his waist. You walked that way downstairs and out to Tony’s car. Thor, Pepper, and Loki were following behind.

The five of you went to the tiny hole in the wall breakfast place that had the best pancakes. Tony took you there every year on your birthday. The people that owned the place already had a table set up for us with balloons on it. You and Tony had been famous before your parents died. They were billionaires after all and did a lot for public works and were famous for it.  You only got more famous when your parents died and Tony was outed as Ironman.  You got even more popular when you became a super too.

You liked the restaurant.  They always kept the reporters and fans away from you whenever you came. They recognized that a lot of the supers came to eat there, but they never outed anyone and never complained about how many pancakes you ate.

They quickly rearranged the table when they realized there were more than just you and Tony today. You were patient with them and thanked them immensely for making the adjustment. You and Tony were nothing but polite. Your parents would have killed you from beyond the grave if you weren’t.

“Off the record, as usual dears, but how many supers are we feeding today?” the owner asked. 

You laughed. “All of us,” you replied with a smile. Loki and Thor weren’t technically supers, but for the purpose of her question they counted. She wanted to know exactly how many of their pancakes you were going to eat.

The answer was all of them.

The owners never got annoyed with you, no matter how many pancakes you ate. You cheered at every new round and gave them constant praise. Also this was a once-yearly event and you brought them in a lot of business. You also paid a ridiculous amount of money, though they only ever tried to charge you for one order.

After breakfast, you went to the amusement park and arcade in the mall. You all acted like children, but it was so much fun. You did this every year too. You wandered the shops and Loki had to carry your bags. Tony had to carry Pepper’s. Both boys looked so put-upon. Loki vanished the bags after the shopping was over. Tony was grateful he didn’t have to lug everything back to the car and actually gave Loki a smile.

The next stop was the hardest of the day, but it was also the most important. You held Tony’s hand while he drove you to the cemetery. You all lugged the picnic blanket, basket of food, alcohol for dad, and flowers for mom up to their graves.

“Hey! You kids can’t play around here!” A security guard yelled as you climbed up toward their graves. You passed the flowers to Loki and Tony handed the bottle of alcohol to Thor. You were the best ones to take care of this without trouble. You walked down to the security guard. You touched Tony’s hand. He nodded and let you take an extra step forward, so you were the focus.  This time.  

“I apologize for any inconvenience, sir,” you told the security guard with all of the innocent politeness you could manage. You were good and well practiced at this act. “My Uncle Tony and I just came to visit my parents, Eugene and Marilyn Stark. We promise we will not cause any trouble,” you added with a radiant smile.

The guard looked you over. “Iron Man and Lady Sigyn,” he finally said. Apparently 'lady’ got added to your superhero name by the press. They must’ve been Avengers movie fans. You both nodded at his recognition. “I’m sorry for bothering you. We’ve been getting a lot of kids loitering here recently. I’ll let security know to leave you alone,” he added. You nodded again and thanked him, before walking back up to catch up with the others.

“Where did that act come from?” Tony asked. 

You laughed in reply. “Just because you don’t believe the innocent little girl act, doesn’t mean security doesn’t,” you replied with a grin.

“Imp,”

“Silver tongue,” you replied innocently. Tony chuckled and Loki laughed.

You took the flowers back from Loki and you finished your walk up to your parents’ graves. The other three hung back when you and Tony went to greet your parents first. You used magic to clear off their graves and set the flowers in front of mom’s. “Hi mom, hi dad. I’m sorry we haven’t been to visit recently. Things have been busy, but we’re doing such good work protecting the city,” you started. You heard the ruffle of pages behind you and saw Loki with the spellbook. “Need help?” you asked. He shook his head. He had used this spell before, so you knew what he was planning. You also knew he had ended up unconscious for several hours after he held it too long on his own.

“This is a single caster spell,” he answered as he distractedly flipped through the pages.

“Darling, we’re soulbond, remember? I can give you power without affecting the spell,” you reminded him, overly patiently. He looked up at you, shocked that you had remembered, or knew that piece of information. He gave you a small smile.

“Very well, but just a little,” he relented. You went over to him and took his left hand in yours. With a bit of focus, you could donate some of your power to him through the soulbond. He smiled and recited the spell, bringing your parents back to corporeal form for the afternoon. You kissed him lightly in thanks, then ran for your parents.

You babbled at them for several minutes while Loki, Pepper, and Thor set out the picnic. Once you stepped back for air, they approached. “Mom, Dad, you remember Loki?” you asked when Loki stepped up. He bowed over your mom’s hand to kiss her knuckles, then shook you dad’s hand.

“It is a pleasure to see you again,” he greeted them. They both replied how good it was to see him again and that they were glad the trouble back home was over.

“Loki’s brother Thor has come to town for the day. He came by to say hi to you last time we were here,”

“We remember,” mom cut you off before you could continue babbling. “It’s nice to see you in person,” Thor stepped up to kiss her knuckles too.

“Sorry, mom. Thor can’t talk today…” you briefly explained about Thor and the curse. Your mom reached up to touch his cheek.

“Thank you for your sacrifice today on our daughter’s behalf. It is nice to know there are others looking after her. She’s always so busy looking after everyone else that you know she forgets to take time for herself,”

“Mom~” you groaned, rolling your eyes. Loki, Thor, and Tony all laughed at you.

“And the infamous Pepper Potts,” your mom said as she greeted Pepper. 

You enjoyed your picnic lunch. The boys all shared the bottle of alcohol with dad. We chatted all afternoon, catching your parents up on what they’d missed since you had visited last.

Is this a common tradition on Earth? To have a picnic at a gravesite? you heard Thor’s question.

"No, it’s not typical to have a picnic at a gravesite,” you answered, speaking directly to him, but repeating his question so everyone would know what had been asked. “I’m weird. Always have been. I was just a kid when they died.” Really, you had been 13, but you knew that was just a kid. That was a lot of innocence ago. “I insisted that they could hear me and from there we got to having picnics here while Uncle Tony and I talked to them. It’s really unusual. Usually people just visit for a couple minutes, say a prayer, and leave,” you added.

“You’re chatty today,” Tony commented. 

You glared at him and stuck your tongue out. “I haven’t had a voice in weeks. Let me enjoy it,” you grumbled at him. 

He laughed at me.

“Children,” you mom said in a warning tone. You laughed, but it was nostalgia of hearing that word in that tone again. Your mom turned to you and Loki. “So, when are you two getting married?” she asked. 

You blushed and looked away. “Mom! He hasn’t even asked yet!” you protested. “Don’t put him on the spot,” you grumbled. Loki would ask when he was ready. You were sure he would be planning some extremely romantic gesture for it too. “Besides, by his world’s standards, we’re already married,” you reminded her, showing her the soulbond marks on your arm.

“Yes, but by our world’s you’re not. I would like to be able to see my daughter happily married,” your mom replied. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“It will happen, Lady Stark,” Loki replied formally, pulling you closer to him long enough for him to kiss the top of your head.

"Bother Uncle Tony and Pepper about getting married then,” you grumbled. 

“We will when we’re ready,” Tony protested while Pepper turned red and hid her face in Tony’s shoulder.

You had another hour before you noticed Loki getting too pale, felt that his power levels were too low. He nodded when he caught that you were looking. "Apologies, darling, but I cannot hold the spell any longer. It is time to say your goodbyes,” he confirmed. You gave him a kiss before you and Tony stood so you could say your goodbyes properly. There were tears all around, but everyone said goodbye and Loki’s spell ended.

“Thor, make sure Loki stays on his feet. That spell packs more of a punch than he likes to admit,” you called to Thor. You used magic to clean up your picnic, and you and Tony made sure the flowers on your mom’s grave were neat and you dad had one last drink poured out for him. You and Tony said one last goodbye before you turned to leave with the others.

“I’m fine, Thor!” Loki kept grumbling at Thor, who did not take your orders as they were said, but instead had thrown Loki over his shoulder. At least Loki hadn’t passed out this time.

Tony drove you to ice cream after the cemetery in an attempt to cheer everyone up. Loki was asleep, using Thor’s shoulder as a pillow before you had even left the cemetery. You turned around from the front seat, smiled, and took a picture. Your soulbond was absolutely adorable.

Your ice cream was subdued. It was always hard after you visited your parents. Loki pretended not to be as asleep on his feet as he was. That spell was really draining. You grinned at him and lifted his left hand. He wasn’t paying attention to what you was doing, which was typical, as long as it was you messing with him. You placed your lips to the soulbond marks on the back of his hand and felt the pulse of magic and energy in the soulbond. Loki gave you a look, but it turned quickly into an exasperated smile when he realized you’d fed him magic.  You enjoyed your ice cream, and by the end everyone was joking and laughing again.

You returned to the compound for more ice cream and cake with our super family. Tom and Kelly met us at the door. “Fury said your party was being held here tonight,” Tom greeted you.

“It is. I’m glad you guys could come,” you told them. You reached out a hand. “Sorry, Fury said I have to hold your phones until you leave. He’s very particular about what pictures can be taken inside the tower.” They both handed over their phones to you without complaint. You had to explain quickly how Thor was taking the curse for you for today so you could enjoy your birthday. You and Loki gave them a tour of the tower, including places the cameras had never been allowed, like your suite, Loki’s suite, and the infirmary. Thor came with you. Tony and Pepper went to go do…something. You weren’t sure you wanted to know what it was.

"Kat? Can you spare a second for a healing?” Julia asked when you entered the infirmary. “I know it’s your birthday…” she hedged. “But this kid’s in bad shape,”

You looked over at Tom and Kelly. “You guys don’t mind, right? You can watch,” you added. They shook their heads. You had the feeling they were both excited to see magic up close. You rolled up your sleeves. “Where is he?” you asked Julia.

“Bay 1. Claire is with him,” you nodded, your back straightening automatically. This was your zone and you were used to being in charge here. You led the way to the emergency bay where the battered preteen lay in the bed. “Thor, don’t let Loki try to help,” you called over your shoulder. “What happened?” you demanded of Claire.

“He jumped from the Metropolis building. Second one today. Fantasia caught the first one, this kid wasn’t so lucky,” Claire answered. You nodded and called up the healing magic. Both of your hands glowed blue when you did. You took a breath and placed both hands on the kid. He was in awful shape and should have been very very dead.

“Kat, let me help,” Loki ordered, struggling against Thor who was holding him away from the bedside. Tom and Kelly were both watching in awe as the kid’s bones healed, his wounds sealing shut as they did. “Thor, get off me,” Loki grumbled. You tuned him out. He was already drained from earlier. Besides, you could handle this. You healed the kid completely.

“Make sure Fury gives him hell for jumping off the building,” you told Claire.

“We always do,” she replied. “Thanks, Kat. Go enjoy your birthday,” she and Julia both shooed you from the infirmary before another emergency could come in. Loki had gotten free of Thor and wrapped an arm around your waist.

“I’m fine, Lo,” you told him, smiling up at him.

“You should have let me help,” he replied grumpily.

“You drained too much of your power already today,” you countered. He sighed and kissed the top of your head as you walked back to the common room.

You had cake, ice cream, and pizza with your friends and family. Then came presents. As per usual, you received mostly books from your friends. Tony gave you a signed copy of the first Harry Potter book. It even had a personalized note from the author in them. “How did you get this?” you asked as you fangirled over the book.

"Made a few calls. Being a famous superhero opens some doors,” he shrugged, but was pleased by your reaction.

“It doesn’t compare,” Tom said apologetically as he pulled out his wrapped present. You opened it to find a DVD, one of those recordable ones. 

You grinned at him. “Is this what I think it is?” you asked. He nodded. Your grin only grew. It was the next Avenger’s movie, the one they had been shooting at the tower. “How’d you get this so fast?”

“They’ve been working on it for months. We just came back to film a couple additional scenes they threw in at the last minute,” he explained.

“I have a feeling you’re going to like the rest of tonight’s activities,” you told him with a mischievous grin.

“I am sure I will,” he replied. Thor and Loki had already given you their gifts. There was only one left.

You picked it up and opened it and turned about ten different shades of red when you had to pull the item out of the box. It was lingerie. A whole shit-ton of lingerie. “Who-?” you managed to get out. Nat was the one laughing her head off. “Nat!” you yelled indignantly.

“Your boyfriend deserves for you to have nice things!” she protested innocently, while Tony pretended he was going to throttle her. You couldn’t help laughing, but vanished the box quickly up to your bedroom.

“C'mon, Kat! Time for movies!” the kids called once the laughter had died down.

“Have you seen Superhero Musical?” you asked Tom and Kelly as you all made your way over to the TV. You and Loki got the loveseat of honor. There was another loveseat moved over for Tom and Kelly, since they were guests. Everyone else settled on couches, pillows and beanbags in front of the TV.

“No, we haven’t,” Tom replied.

“You’re in for a treat,” you replied with a grin. The movie started and both Tom and Kelly were laughing about five minutes in when the entire crowd of supers around them started singing along.

“I never knew the Avengers were like this,” Tom said after the movie, when he had listened to you all evening hanging out like normal teens and young adults.

“Not everyone sees this side of us, but we’re people too,” you replied, while Clint swapped out the movies. “I apologize in advance for this,” you told Tom. You knew what movie was next. Tom laughed when he realized what it was.

About thirty minutes into the movie Nat paused the movie and the entire crowd stared at Loki and Tom. “Why are they staring at me?” Tom asked you nervously. 

You sighed. “They want you to say the line,”

“Both of them!” the crowd called.

“Have it be a contest!”

“Sig! Make them do it!”

You laughed and got to your feet. “C'mon boys, you heard them,” you hauled Loki to his feet. “You first, you’re prepared for this.” you told him. You shoved him toward the table that was always his stage. He used magic to change his clothes to the Loki costume, including the golden horned helmet and stepped up on the table to deliver the line.

“I am Loki of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose. Kneel before me,” he hesitated for a moment. “I said KNEEL!” he bellowed. The crowd roared in approval and applause. Loki stepped down from the table and bowed to Tom. You pulled Tom to his feet next, Kelly shoved him up too.

“Would you like the costume too?” you asked, offering Tom a hand. He hesitated, but fun won out. He nodded. You used magic to summon the costume on him. He stepped up on the table to deliver the line for the crowd as well. You took plenty of pictures of both Lokis, especially when your Loki stepped back up on the table so they could deliver the line at the same time. It was hilarious.

The crowd determined it was a tie on who performed better. Both Loki and Tom took a bow and returned to their seats, the magic fading from their clothes as they did so they were back in normal clothes.

You walked Tom and Kelly out of the tower after the Avenger’s movie and gave them their phones back. You sent them the pictures from your phone that they were allowed to have and thanked them again for coming.

The second they were gone, you put in the new DVD Tom had given you so you could all get an early viewing of the new Avengers movie. You all laughed and cheered when you and Loki were on screen during the couple of scenes you had helped out with. Including the kiss scene.

After that movie, Loki swept you up into his arms and carried you upstairs to cheers from the crowd, and a glare from Tony, so you could enjoy the last hours of Frigga’s gift with kisses and conversation with Loki.

On the eve of HS2, I felt I needed to reflect and write a diary entry of sorts, an ode to where I was and where I am now, a musing on how HS1 ushered in a whole new world for me. This is long and more personal than anything I’ve previously shared, but in honor of vulnerability and maybe helping someone else who’s struggling... here it is. 

The most exposure 2015 me had to pop music was occasionally listening to ‘hits’ radio. My old art teacher in high school had blasted the classics of the 60s and 70s daily, so I knew those, albeit not the names, but the music, the style, the melodic tropes and such. 2015 me didn’t have much time for pop music. I was getting a fancy degree in classical music from one of the best conservatories in the world, and I’d made it there after four years with a highly abusive teacher in undergrad who gave me horrible anxiety; by the end, whenever she would walk into a room, I would get chills and start shaking. She delighted in lying to me, in calling me out in front of my peers. Worse, I was arguably her highest-achieving student. The day I got into Juilliard she took me for “tea” to celebrate, where she proceeded to spend the whole time telling me how she had made this happen, how her connections got me to NY, how I should be grateful. 

Entering the world of NYC and Juilliard I was an awestruck, anxious mess. Everything moved too fast, the school was overwhelming, my studio mates were famous already, some of them having won world-famous competitions and been on the cover of magazines. I was in the elite place, a place my working class roots had never prepared me for. My dad was a millwright. He went to work every day in steel-toed boots and overalls and often returned so filthy mom wouldn’t let him wash his clothes in the household washing machine. But I was nothing if not adaptable, and grateful, and charming, and I did my best. I worked hard. But my health kept deteriorating. 

All through undergrad I’d been feeling progressively worse. I had horrible acne that I presumed was caused by stress, as I’d never suffered with it in high school. I was already an introvert, but body insecurity led me to hardly ever socialize. I would spent hours getting ready for things, never willing to show my bare face. But that wasn’t the worst; I’d developed what I now understand was an eating disorder, because no matter how much I exercised or dieted, I kept gaining weight, or rather, I lost all my baby fat but remained the same scale number. I kept telling my mother I was fat. I didn’t tell her that I hated the wind, that I hated running, because it made my stomach protrude and the whole world could see the extra pounds I carried. I never made an appointment with an OBGYN because I didn’t date much less have sex, and my mother had told me, well you don’t ever need to be seen until you do. I came to NYC well versed in wearing baggy sweaters and scarfs that hid my form. And for two years, as my breathing got worse and worse, as my energy levels dropped, as my skin hurt and itched, I pushed forwards. I remember practicing one day and my eyes going black. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe. 

It was getting into an international competition that saved me. I got the news in early May of 2016; I jumped around my room and I started coughing, and the next day a hernia appeared above my belly button. I was only slightly worried, but I went to see the Juilliard doctor. She asked if I’d gained weight, she said even a couple pounds could do it. I was, as always, ashamed, red faced, embarrassed as she prodded around on my torso. 

She said I’d need surgery. So I scheduled it in NYC for two days after my graduation. I played my recital, but with a binder around my abdomen. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t remember my memorized music. I nearly passed out. I stumbled on the sidewalk afterwards. 

When I woke from the surgery I was in blinding pain, teeth chattering uncontrollably, in shock. I couldn't open my eyes, and every breath felt like knives slicing into my chest. I heard the nurses say, “We’ve given you three IVs of Percocet, do you want us to give you a forth?” I said no, thinking, ‘what if I die from an overdose?’ After two hours my mother came in search of me. It was supposed to be a day surgery. She demanded morphine. They sent me home on it, but two days later I’d thrown up twice and was back in the ER. A CT showed I had an ovarian cyst. The doctor said to me, “It’s 28 inches. It’s the size of a dinner plate.” I didn’t understand. They rushed me back for another surgery, and asked me to sign a paper saying I wouldn’t hold them responsible if I ended up paralyzed. I signed it. I joked with the nurses before they put me under. I was shaking with pain. I thought, if this is the end, I’ve had a good life. I’ll be with my doggy, my baby puppy. I’ve graduated from my dream school. I’ve gotten into an elite international competition. I’ll go out at the top of my game. It’s okay. 

But then I woke up. Over the next year, I would wish countless times that I hadn’t. I could barely walk. I couldn’t lift things like a fork, or my computer. I couldn’t shower or cough or even shit. I couldn’t practice or sit upright for more than fifteen minutes. Pain became a constant. I started to wake up with night sweats, my forehead creased in subconscious pain. I would jump at every loud noise, my heart lurching like a ruined engine, and I couldn’t remember names of flowers. I fell into a massive depression over the next few months, made worse by the 2016 election; because of my infirmity I had moved back home with my Trump-voting parents. The bravest thing I did that fall was ‘come out’ as a liberal on Facebook. My parents pretended not to notice when I stayed up late that cold November night, huddled with a blanket on the couch, crying my eyes out.

The Christmas 2016 season is a blur. I know I half lived in memories, half in grief, but all in self-pitying misery. I remember reading a passing article about Jay, not knowing who it was, and I remember adding a lost mother to the list of things I cried about. How could the world be so cruel, so unfair? My days were filled with PT and sleep, immobility and exhaustion, and questions, questions like if I can’t do what I love, what I’ve spent years training for, what’s the point? What does it mean to be an artist when you can’t do your art? What is left of me that matters? Is the future only more pain? It would have been better to have died. It would have been better to have died. 

Up until this point I had been unlucky in love. I could never find men attractive, though many friends pressured me to try, which of course had led to not good things. I’d been confronted a couple times about maybe being gay, but I’d shot this down immediately, my face bright red, my heart pounding. No, that’s not it, I’m just picky. Two girls in grad school had flirted with me; I’d accidentally gone on a date with one. I’d felt deeply, gut-wrenchingly uncomfortable about her. But how could I ever unpack all of that when just coming out as a liberal had given me anxiety for days...  

The new year came and I had nothing to look forward to. I could see no happy future. I wasn’t really in my right mind. I would escape as best I could, perhaps in masochistic ways; I’d watch SNL for humorous liberal comfort, and Colbert to feel some spark of angry solidarity. And that’s how I stumbled on Harry. He got me with his puns, because I love those. For the first time in months, I was giggling about something, this charming boy with curls and dimples who had replaced the scream-speech of James Cordon. For once I didn’t turn the tv off after Colbert. 

I began listening to Harry’s songs. As I had no reference for contemporary pop music, his old school rock album was familiar to me in a comforting way. I knew these sounds, these tropes, and yet they didn’t feel stale to me, they spoke to something I was feeling in the present. Because the album, in essence, was about pain, wasn’t it? Pain and escaping it. The lies we tell to survive, the dreams we cling to for hope, the drugs we use to forget. I’d never bought a pop album before, Harry was my first, and I listened to it for hours every day. 

HS1 seeped into my blood, but I’d been on a hopeless, aimless track for so long that the railway tie hadn’t yet switched. One warm, sunny spring day I wrote a note, filled a bag with rocks, and walked to the old bike trail, out past the freeway, into the marshes and pools of abandoned swampy wasteland. FTDT played in my head on a loop as I walked, as my brain hummed with the equation of worth. Was it worth it to stay alive?

Yes. I threw the rocks. I threw them as far as my fragile arms would allow, and they splashed into the murky water. And I turned around and called my mom to come get me. Harry had made something that was beautiful, that was touching, that was real. And if he could... then maybe I could too. Maybe I didn’t have to be just what I’d been before. Maybe I could try creating other things; maybe I could make art that, like Harry’s music, made other people feel less alone. 

There was something magical about that album. Not freedom, per se, but the promise of it, a glimpse of truth that kept me hanging on. 

I began writing poems again, songs. I got into an orchestra program, I healed month by month, I started carrying crystals, I found this crazy fandom and, little by little, grew to understand that my yearning upon looking at baby larry videos was really a cry of sameness that I had never before understood. After the Pulse shooting, during my horrible homebound year, I’d watched Lin-Manuel Miranda give his love is love is love speech, and I’d burst into tears. And I’d not known why. Now I began to realize. I remember the first tentative anon I sent to Phoenix @alienfuckeronmain asking if maybe I was... bi? I remember anxiously awaiting her answer, as if I needed an invitation to join the community, to be valid, to have this not just be a crazy swelling of hope in my chest. She replied while I was wandering through a corn maze in the frigidness of October. The next day I walked into rehearsal and I felt free, free of the way boys looked at me, free of being FOR them, and I’d never felt so... alive. Coincidentally I met my ex girlfriend that day too. 

Through Harry I found this fandom, and Louis. Louis, who has spoken to me on levels I cannot even express, whose class and political and emotional intelligence have challenged me to stand up for things I never thought I could. For me these last few years have felt like a journey WITH Harry. As he started waving them, I started wearing rainbows, just subtly. A knit scarf, a postcard, a bag. I started writing fic, the most healing thing I’ve ever done. I learned to create art away from the singular thing I’d been trained to dump my all into, and I learned that I have so much more to offer, even if chronic pain will follow me in some way or another for the rest of my life. 

I’m so thankful to Harry for taking me on this adventure with him; I don’t know if I’d have ever taken that first step by myself. It was like he held my hand through it all, like this fandom held my hand through it all. Like by being himself, Harry helped me be brave enough to evolve too. 

Through the catalyst of Harry’s art I’ve experienced more happiness than I’d have ever imagined. I cannot wait to go on this next journey, a second album, and reflect on just how far we’ve both come. 

How much power did Sarafina inherit from her Goatmom and Skeledad?

Oooo! This is one of those things I’ve thought about quite a bit,but won’t really appear in the story, so I’m glad you asked!

Sarafina isn’t really going to use magic much in the comic –she’s very young, and almost completely untrained, so don’t expect her to makeany huge power displays in the story.

That being said, she has the potential to be a very powerful magic user. She inherited a lot ofpower from both parents, and is a young Boss Monster.

Her magic consists of a mix of Sans’ telekinesis and boneattacks, and Toriel’s Pyrokinesis, though Sarafina’s fire burns a hotter,bright blue color rather than red.

Sarafina also has one other magic attack no one is aware of.She can access the powerful energy shots used by Sans’ Gaster Blasters; essentiallyshe IS a blaster. When she uses that devastating power, her appearance isslightly (frighteningly) altered for a brief time. She has so far never used thisattack (and is, in fact, completely unaware she can), but she would be horrifiedby this ability and alteration should she use it. Again, this won’t be seen inthe current story.

Sarafina may never actually reach her magic potential,however. She can’t tell when she is using attack magic versus passive ordefensive magic. This could be fixed with in time with practice, but she’sterrified of accidentally hurting someone. When she was six, Sarafina nearly struckSans while practicing her magic, which, due to his still low HP, would havekilled him. Papyrus saw what was coming, and yanked Sans out of the way. Thestrike hit Papyrus instead, hurting him rather badly, burning the bones of hisarm and upper torso. Even with healing magic it was several weeks before hecould use his arm again.

Sarafina now adamantly refuses to use magic at all. For themoment, Sans and Toriel aren’t pushing the matter, but her lack of control willneed to be addressed eventually.

Because her magic is partially based in fire, Sarafina’s rejectionof her own magic has caused her body temperature to drop slightly. She isn’t inany danger from this, but she gets cold easily, which is why she almost alwayswears a sweater.

HC: Moondancer

I hate that Moondancer is made to be Twilight's bitter carbon copy, right down to her design. Overall the show kind of portrays introverts as evil and/or rude assholes. I don't see Moondancer like that. I think of her as a salty, sassy, commanding mare, with a hint of pettiness and a dash of superiority, yet still an well-meaning introvert at heart. Just because she doesn't take anybody's shit doesn't mean that she's an ass. Well, she's mostly not a complete dick. Sometimes.

Moondancer was raised primarily in Canterlot, a student of Celestia's (boarding) School For Gifted Unicorns. She had strong magical power from the start, and her being accepted into Princess Celestia's good graces only focused her more on her goal.

Since she was a young filly, she had to watch her older half-siblings-- Sunset Shimmer, Sunburst, and Starlight Glimmer-- rise to beloved students of the Alicorn Sisters, and not only had they both abandoned Celestia, but Moondancer too.

Her mother Stellar Flare's pressure and her father Firelight's constant cooing honed Moondancer's wish to succeed, to be her aging parents' golden child; their good legacy. Maybe then, they would stop comparing her to her sisters and brother. Maybe they would stop missing their runaway children, if Moondancer could become everything they had both wanted for their kids.

Moondancer put emphasis on trying to be a Canterlot filly. She grew colder to her friends, more resolved to let others play while she focused on rising through the ranks. Soon the only pony she would still call a friend was Twilight Sparkle.

It seemed that Twilight was just born with her abilities, her overreaching smarts. That fact become clear to Moondancer as Twilight became the best student, even as Moondancer had been working so much harder than her. A resentment began to fester for the purple filly. It was unfair, blatantly ridiculous, that Twilight Sparkle could do these things so easily compared to Moon. Twilight didn't deserve the attention; what had she done to get it? Be born? Even that was for her mother to thank!

As the seed of their inevitable failed friendship was planted, Moony also began to have a fixation with her friend... She began dressing like her, and even styled her mane the same way. Moondancer turned into a recolored mirror of the girl she would soon hate. Perhaps if Moondancer had all the same qualities as Twilight, Celestia would pay her mind...

That hope was shattered the day Celestia announced Twilight as her pupil.

The dislike Moondancer had held for Twilight grew into hatred. Twilight did nothing to earn her powers, NOTHING. Why wasn't Moondancer good enough? She was. She is! Moondancer deserved to be in Twilight's place. She deserved to be the apple of Celestia's eye, not some common kid! Moony deserved to be Twilight.

Under Celestia, Twilight would become reclusive to her studies. Her desire to be with her friends would slowly start to fickle. Her contact with them was irregular throughout their childhood and even more into adultescence. Meanwhile, Moondancer had become obsessed with being top dog.

Moony wormed her way into popular, wealthy social circles, hoping the Princesses would notice her (she became Blueblood's acquaintance through this). She threw herself into her studies, but to a much unhealthier extent than Twilight. Her sleep schedule was chaotic, she would go days forgetting to eat, and didn't bother with personal hygiene anymore, preferring to just pull her mane in a ponytail and be done with it.

Moondancer put on a smile for her friends-- Lyra Heartstrings, Minuette, Lemon Hearts, Twinkleshine and Twilight-- because they did still mean something to her. They offered her an escape from her worries, insecurities, and addiction. She valued them highly, but not as much as Twilight. She still thought Twilight didn't deserve what she had, but her unreceptive rivalry had a twinge of something else. She wanted to be Twilight, yes, but at the same time, she wanted to be with Twilight... A part of her wanted to share Celestia, for Twi.

Eventually, Twilight Sparkle fell back into their lives naturally, and was again a more prominent (if not unappreciative) friend. With Twilight back, Moondancer began to leave her shell. She realized that Twilight was just a pony, like her; that she wasn't something to be hated over who could cast spells better. She was Moondancer's friend.

And that all crumbled when Twilight ditched Moony's party. But you know her story from there. Humiliated and abanonded by the pony she cared most for, Moondancer felt rejected, like she truly wasn't good enough. She wasn't enough to be anybody important, much less the special somepony of Celestia's pupil. Moondancer wasn't a golden child. She was a failure, just like that voice in the back of her head had always whispered. She didn't deserve the things she had-- not yet, anyways.

The light and joy Moondancer had once found with her friends flickered out. She lashed out at them constantly, missed their plans and left them hanging, all in favor of studying to be worthy. Quickly, they were gone from her life.

Years passed before Twilight would return to reconnect with what she had thrown away like trash. In that time, Moondancer became a lonely, frustrated, surly stranger, to herself and to Canterlot. Her interactions with other ponies were short, curt, and filtered by harsh words on Moon's part. She had pushed away her doting parents, her only friends, and ponies she didn't know, because that voice still told her that she wasn't powerful enough, pretty enough, good enough to lead a happy life.

Then the so-called Princess of Friendship crashed back into Moondancer's life with half-baked apologies and clear embarrassment. Moondancer saw through this. Twilight wasn't back because she felt bad, she was back because she wanted an excuse to not feel guilty. As soon as Lyra, Lemon, Minuette, Twinkle and Dancer had accepted the Alicorn's sorries, she would be gone again.

Moondancer refused to give Twilight the luxury of feeling just. She refuted Twi's efforts at every turn, until the Princess set up a party for Moony. In a fit of rage and emotion, Moondancer lashed out at Twilight, finally breathing her frustrations out. When she's done, she crumbles in tears, like a scared foal.

And yet, Twilight helps her. Maybe if she's worthy of Twilight's forgiveness... She has value in this world after all. Perhaps it wouldn't be so terrible for her to be happy.

In time, Moondancer manages to believe in her own self worth. She whole-heartedly navigates the uncertain path to friendship with her old group. It's too much to really be close with Twi, the object of her obsession for years, but Moondancer hopes that someday, she can be Twilight's best friend again. And yes, that's all she wants for Twi now. She let her mane down and found who she is again.

That isn't to say Moony becomes a sunshine and rainbows lady. There's nothing wrong with being an introvert. She just became a less rude figure to friendship, more open about her good heart, ready to help, and open to discuss her feelings.

Her scars had mostly healed by the time she met a mister Zephyr Breeze. Given a second chance at being a Royal Guard (favor to Fluttershy), Zephyr was tasked with being Grand Duke Blueblood's escort. While the pair crossed Moondancer, Zephyr Breeze decided to give it a shot at flirting with the mare. Moon's reply was "fuck off and die, good sir." She didn't even bother looking at him.

The pure disinterest Moony held for romance seemed to strengthen Zephyr Breeze. Blueblood's daily walk around Canterlot crossed Moondancer's way to the library she owned, so Zephyr ran into her many times. At every dumb, cheesy pick-up, Moondancer got more and more flustered. Zephyr took this as her surrendering to his charms (i mean who wouldn't right).

Blueblood flatly argued against that. He saw the failed pick-ups as pathetic, and Moondancer was probably just getting pissed by now. Zephyr Breeze wasn't on the track to romance, or even just getting into Moon's bed, he was simply an idiot.

Zephyr Breeze taunted that if Blueblood knew so much about mares, why didn't he have one for himself? No pony would reject him, Blueblood replied, all of Equestria loved him. Zephyr responded with mocks, so Blueblood decided he would prove it!

Just as Moondancer was about to walk by them, Blueblood stopped her and asked her on a date, pouring all of his superficial charm into his honey-glazed words.

And Moondancer's retort was the same. Except this time, she looked into his eyes before she brushed past them. "Fuck off and die."

And so the two stallions began competing for Moondancer's hoof in dating. They showered the lady in compliments, gifts, and showed off whenever she was near. Slowly, Moondancer warmed up to the idiots, enough to call them somewhat friends. Moondancer walked up to them when the two were having a hissy fit over who she would choose in the end.

She shrugged and said, "we'll see, shitheads."

Years later, she became a Grand Duchess of Canterlot. Her other husband Zephyr loves calling himself Canterlot's Prince.

Other notes~

- Moondancer wears a golden wedding ring on her horn, a black sweater, red bowtie and a pink skirt.

- During that "i'm not worthy of anything" phase of her life, Moondancer developed an eating disorder. Back then, it made her feel in control. She looks bad to that and cringes.

- Zephyr Breeze eventually quit his job as a Royal Guard to pursue his dream of being a hairstylist full-time. Blueblood helped getting him a job at a homey, plain barber shop, which Zephyr Breeze would turn into a flashy, high tell establishment for celebrities.

- Shortly after amending fences with Twi, Moondancer turned Twilight's old tower into a functioning library. She works there part-time. Her main gig is a teacher at her old school.

- Stellar Flare is the mother of Sunset Shimmer and Sunburst, whose father is decreased. Firelight is Starlight Glimmer's dad, whose wife left Starlight as a foal. The pair got together when their respective younger kids (Starlight and Burst) were away at their boarding schools. They dated for a long while, eventually marrying and having Moondancer, who is a decade younger than her youngest half-sis Glimmer. The two are still together in the Parent Map. So yes, Starlight and Sunburst are step siblings in Harmonyverse.

- Moondancer was Lyra's best mare at Lyra and Bonbon's wedding. In Harmonyverse, Bonbon and Lyra are child-free by choice.

- Moondancer lost contact with Starlight during the lilac pony's cult years. She knew nothing of Glim's actions back then. She now is pen pals with her big sister. Moony also got back in touch with Sunburst.

- All of Moondancer's kids were surprises, but welcomed with open arms. It doesn't matter who their "real" father is (Zephyr or Blue), because they both are. Their childrens' names are Lady Winifred Evelyn Aaliyah, Lady Midas Miriam Marquita, Lord Jupiter John Herald, Lady Bellevue Alice Tallulah, and Lord Gale Maximus Rigel.

Jesus fuck did I get attached to this one-off or wHAT. I wuv my petty salty bitch. Don't use this headcanon in your own works without permission from me and don't use my art either ✌️

Damn Straight, Part 1 - Bill Skarsgård

Title: Damn Straight

Description: Past deceptions bring a young couple to Mirth Island, a place of natural beauty and the promise of inner healing. When one of them is introduced to a young man who lives on the island, their budding friendship threatens to destroy more than just fragile trust. Warning: 18+ sex/swearing/drug use/mentions of addiction and cheating

A/N: Here is the first part of my least popular Bill fic. I found this story particularly easy to write and it was definitely one of my favourite stories. I hope you enjoy it! There will be no author’s notes from here on out

She was doing the dishes and humming a tune that she always hummed whenever she got lost in her task at hand. I was sitting at the kitchen table with my laptop open, reading over a line of text that didn't come across to me quite right. With the kitchen sink running and her voice echoing through the kitchen, my logic and my patience got into a fist fight inside my head. I couldn't figure out what was wrong with the sentence and even if I wanted to, the house was full of distractions. I knew I could just put on my headset and listen to some calming music but I couldn't be bothered to get up from my chair. When the water stopped running I heard her footsteps padding all over the wood floor, cupboards opening and closing and the clinking of ceramic. She was putting the dry dishes away. Even that nudged my thought process further away from productivity. It wasn't her fault but I was about ready to take my work into the bedroom just to get some quiet. "So Vye, I was talking to Kat and she said she knows this amazing doctor who helped treat her mom's friend gambling addiction, pro bono. Maybe we could get her contact information and see about-" "No." I interrupted. Cici peered at me from the doorway leading into the kitchen, my coffee mug upside down in her grip. She stared at me with this haunted look of disappointment. I tried not to entertain it and kept my attention on my work. I heard the boards of the floor creak as she went back into the kitchen. It was quiet until she shrieked, her cry followed by the sound of something smashing violently against something else. I shot up from the table and ran into the kitchen to find her, a crumpled mess on the floor and shards of my favourite mug all over the ground. "Cici, what the fuck!?" I yelled. "My dad gave me that cup!" "What is your FUCKING deal!?" She cried hysterically at me, tears pouring down her flaming red cheeks. "What is YOUR fucking deal? You just broke my dad's cup! I don't have hardly a thing that belonged to him and you just fucking-" "Your dad this and your dad that! Yes, Vye, we all know your fucking dad is dead and about your daddy issues and how you're so fucked up about it but what about ME!? What about what YOU did to ME? You don't even seem to give a flying fuck about ME anymore! You don't even want to get fucking help because you don't give a shit about anything! Especially not me!" She slumped over and cried harder. I watched with wide eyes as she twisted her hands in her lap. The scars on her arms peeked out from underneath the gray cotton material of her college pullover. Her sobs filled the room and I suddenly forgot all about the cheap brown ceramic mug that I had inherited from my dad. "Cici... Jesus Christ. I'm sorry, okay?" "No, you're not." She whined, using her sleeve to wipe at her dribbling nose. "Yes, I am, goddamn it. Don't tell me how I feel. I hate it when you do that. I'm saying sorry because I am sorry." "If you were sorry you would be open to getting help. You would want to fix yourself." She said. I inhaled and exhaled deeply, feeling my heart rate start to climb down. I knelt down next to her, careful not to step on any shards of the broken cup. With my arm around her, she melted back into my chest, no doubt enjoying the feeling of closeness. It was no mystery that I felt an immeasurable amount of remorse for her and what had happened but she still liked to find ways to utilize that against me. Lately, she had been spreading it quite thin to cover her ass when she had these insane freak-outs and there was hardly a thing I could do about it. Nothing I did was right in her eyes. Nothing I did would convince her that I didn't hate her. In reality, I was suffocating in silence. I had an immense workload and Cici yapping at me like an untrained puppy for attention all the while I had a ghost looming over me that liked to whisper awful things in my ears at all hours of the day. It kept me up at night and tired me out during the day. She refused to acknowledge that I was underneath just as much, if not more stress than her. But that was the thing about Cici. She was the Queen of drama. Ever since we were young she liked to be the center of it all. If some kid got hurt on the playground and began to cry, Cici got hurt even worse and started to scream to make sure all eyes were on her and it worked the majority of the time. It was hard to ignore a screaming blond-haired blue-eyed girl. She knew how to work a crowd. The day she took it took it too far was a landmark in my world. I didn't think she had it in her to pull the ultimate distraction stunt but she did and she made me rue that day for now and forever. She liked to throw it in my face constantly like a net, making sure I was still entangled in my guilt, solidifying my never-ending debt to her. She continued to cry and I rocked her a little, shushing her and wrapping her up in my arms to help her calm down. "Okay... I'll start looking for help. I'll do some research on what support groups are available." She whipped around and looked at me, smiling through her tears. "Really?" "Yes. I will. " I replied. "Can I ask Kat about couples therapy?" "Maybe... You know I hate therapists." "Vye..." She whined again. "Okay, okay. Ask Kat. But I would really rather go to an open group or something." Cici's sadness turned into pure elation and she got up off her butt and threw her arms around me, only pulling back to plant a hard kiss on me, wetting me with her tear-stained cheeks. "Thank you Vye." Dejected, defeated once more and already regretting what I had agreed to, I hugged her back with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. ~*~ I opted to work from home on Friday. I woke up feeling weak, heavy and unwilling to get myself into the shower. I called my boss and told him that I couldn't make it in and luckily, he didn't seem to mind. I wasn't sure if it was because he felt bad for me or if he was just too busy with other things to care if I was present or not. I changed into a clean pair of underwear and socks but put on the same pajama pants and sweater that I had been wearing for the last two days. To say I didn't care about my appearance would be an understatement. Opening my laptop from the comfort of my bed, I began to work on my latest project. I figured if I could bang out six thousand words by lunch that would be a good enough accomplishment to allow myself to maybe leave the house to go get something to treat myself with. Maybe a cupcake from the cafe up the street or a sugary latte. Something to congratulate me on getting work done or just continuing to be alive in general. When I left the house I did manage to put on some publicly acceptable clothing. I was most certainly depressed but I still had a small shred of pride and I didn't want anyone I knew spotting me wearing pajamas in public. It was mostly the fear of ridicule that prompted me to do simple things like that. I ordered a double chocolate zucchini muffin and an Americano at the cafe, smiling when the male barista asked for my name. "Vye, like dye but with a V," I said to him, the spiel already a thousand times rehearsed in my head. "Cool... Vye. That's a nice name. What's that short for? Violet?" He asked as he spun a biodegradable paper cup in his massive hand. "Nope. My parents were just those people that gave their kid a one syllable name." I said with a playful shrug and a smirk. "Awesome." When I got my coffee it said 'Vie' on the side of the cup. Whatever. Nothing new there. I smiled at the guy again and took my cup to the table I had set up camp at. I pulled my hood over my head, opened my laptop, inserted some earbuds and started working away, periodically stopping to rip off a chunk of my muffin or to sip my coffee. It was nice just to be left alone and before I knew it, I had spent two hours in the cafe clicking away on my laptop like a mad woman. Satisfied with my word count, I decided that was all the work I needed to do for the day. For once, I actually felt like I had accomplished what I set out to do and that gave me more satisfaction than I had felt in a long time. My mood was elevated and when I got home Cici was already there, fluttering about like a bee, landing delicately on this thing and that, adjusting the placement of her candles, wiping the dust off the bookshelf and rearranging the throw pillows on the sofas. She was humming again and to me, it sounded like a song and not just mindless buzzing. When she saw me smiling she smiled too and tiptoed up to me to place a chaste kiss on my lips. "So I have some very good news for you. Well, it's for both of us, really." She claimed. "Oh yeah? What's that?" I prompted her. "So I talked to Kat..." I felt my heart skip a beat or two. "She said that there is this place that we can both go to, like a couples retreat." I sneered, much to Cici's admonishment. "No, no. It's not like how it sounds. It's this little resort and it's like a community of people that have these kinds of support circles on the beach." "I don't see how chanting 'Kumbaya' with a bunch of strangers would be helpful," I said, wary of what was to come next. She giggled, "Would you just listen? It's not just that. They have workshops for struggling couples, sex therapy, tantric sex practices and gurus. No doctors or anything. It's just a big open place where couples go to find healing and enlightenment." "Enlightenment? Sounds like a place with a lot of Kool-Aid." I tittered. "If you want, we can go talk to Kat to get a referral. I told her about you and us and how you don't want to lay on a couch and talk about your problems. She said this place is like a vacation and it's exclusive and beautiful and... You know, our kind of thing." "Hm... Sounds expensive." "Well, we have been saving a while for a vacation. Maybe this could be it. You do want to get better, don't you? And I want you to get better and this place sounds like a lot of fun." I bit the inside of my cheek, contemplating. "I don't know. I guess let's talk to Kat about it first." "Yay! We have a meeting with her tomorrow." I rolled my eyes. It was already beginning to sound like I had no choice in the matter anyway. When Cici took the reigns, I was forced to just sit back and allow her to run with whatever it was she had her mind set on. I didn't need another violent episode and I didn't want any more broken objects so I agreed to the meeting. Later that night while we were in bed, Cici rolled over and started to pull at me. I knew what that meant. Grimacing in the dark, I acted like I was already asleep. "Vye..." She whispered. I didn't reply so she nudged me even more. "Vye." "Hm?" She didn't say anything. She slipped her hand underneath my shirt and my body tensed up. "Cici, I am beyond tired." Pulling her hand away, she rolled over and huffed in frustration. I opened my eyes and looked over at her underneath the mounds of the blanket. Sighing, I rolled towards her and hooked my arm around her hip, pulling her little frame closer. "Sorry," I whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. "When will we-" "I told you that I can't. Not for a little while longer." "Fine." I held my breath in anticipation for a bigger retaliation but it didn't come. For that, I was grateful. Fighting in bed was something I dreaded the most and luckily, she was not in the mood to continue. "I can't wait to talk to Kat tomorrow," she said slowly. "Yeah..." ~*~ We sat in Kat's waiting room for a few minutes after we arrived. It was a typical waiting room, lined with chairs and end tables stacked with old issued magazines. There was a bookshelf laden with encyclopedias and granite Komainu bookends that were no doubt brought over from Japan. The whole room had a Japenese-Hindu-Buddhist-theme to it, although Kat was anything but foreign. There was a little bonsai tree on the receptionist's desk and hand-painted pictures of paisleys and oms lining the walls. It was hard not to scoff at the conflict of culture. It was so 'white girl' that I couldn't keep my eyes from constantly rolling to the back of my head. When we entered Kat's office I saw the dreaded chaise lounge that I had been doing everything in my power to avoid. Luckily there were two seats in front of the desk that we could sit on like dignified people. Cici and Kat squealed at each other and hugged, expressing their shared contrition of not having seen each other in so long. I simply shook Kat's hand. We had all gone to the same schools so Kat was already well aware of all the history behind us. There was not a lot to explain but I felt like I was going to be forced to open up about some things that I hadn't quite given a spoken voice to yet. This was what I was trying to not do, the very thing that I hoped to avoid. "So, it goes without saying that you have the right of doctor and patient confidentiality. Whatever is said in this room will not leave these walls." The opening spiel was not as long and drawn out as I thought it would be. I attributed that to the fact that Cici had already been in contact with Kat for weeks prior to the meeting. I wouldn't have been surprised if Kat already knew every little detail of every tiny thing that had happened between us within the last few months. "So, Vye, I'm sure Cici has already told you about the resort. What are your thoughts? Do you have any questions?" I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat, Cici's eyes bored into me with excitement. I was sickened by how much pleasure she was getting from having finally sat me down in front of a doctor. I hated this and she knew it yet she was still practically bursting at the seams. "Yeah, I have questions. What is it? Cici told me some stuff but it sounds a little ambiguous to me." I began. "Well," Kat started, folding her hands in front of her in that proper doctor way. "The resort is called Mirth Island and it is exactly what it sounds like; an island resort for people that are in happy relationships that just want to explore new ways of being together." "Still, sounds pretty vague to me." "Shush," Cici hissed. "Let her talk." Kat smiled at Cici and then looked back at me. "Mirth Island has a lot of beneficial programs for couples that are experiencing troubles in their relationships. There is group counseling available which is just like any other support group except for it's on a beach and there are no judgments. I have a few friends from school that teach there as well." "Teach?" I pressed. "Yes, there are workshops for couples that want to experience a deeper connection. It's like a mixture of sex therapy and sexual education. There are actual practices as well." "Like... Sex practices?" "It's totally optional. Everything available there is completely optional. You are not obligated to attend any circles or sessions. Sometimes couples just go there to be get away and find enjoyment around other like-minded people. It's all very open and honest." "Sounds like a sex cult." "Vye..." Cici said warningly. "No, I'm curious." I stopped her. "Do people like... Fuck each other there? Is it all like open-relationship type people? Like a swingers getaway?" Kat smiled at the both of us. "Not quite. Although I am sure there are couples there that do engage in things like that but like I said, everything and everyone there is very open and accepting. You do not have to engage in anything that you do not want. You can simply go there just to reset the batteries but I do strongly recommend trying some of the circles. They can be very awakening." I sat back in my chair and took it all in. It did sound nice to go to a secluded island where I could relax. Cici seemed to think it was a great idea and if that made her quiet about me going to therapy then maybe it was something to consider. "They also have sex-addiction counseling," Kat not-so-casually brought up. I looked over at Cici who did what she could to avoid my stare. There it was. With that little revelation alone I knew that she had been talking to Kat about more than just my depression. "It's all very safe and loving and non-judgmental, I assure you, Vye. I really do feel like the both of you would benefit greatly from an experience like this." "I'll have to think about it for a little longer," I claimed. "What is there to think about?" Cici chimed immediately. "It's perfect! We have been saving for a vacation and what better way to spend the money than on something that might help the both of us? It sounds amazing to me." "I can write a referral for you two today if you want Vye." Crossing my arms, I sat in silence just to show that I was feeling a little ganged up on. In my mind, I already knew what I wanted but I relished the thought of Cici sitting there in suspense. For once, I had the upper hand and I didn't want to give it away so easily but the way her big blue eyes begged at me made it difficult to keep a straight face. "Fine. All right, I guess we'll go then." She gasped, looking back excitedly from me to Kat and back again. "Yes! Thank you, Kat! I can't wait. Aren't you excited, Vye? I can't wait!"