Will and his little sister: I feel so sick.

I just realized I messed up on ages a bit here. Evie is 16, and Will is 28. Technically he’s supposed to be 15 years older than her, but just ignore that for the sake of this fic, pretty please. 

TW for drug use/withdrawals. 

-

Will hears the footsteps coming, but doesn’t bother to open his eyes. His head is pounding, the lights are way too bright, and his whole body aches. Besides, the only people who have a key to this place are Danny and Kayla, and he trusts them both completely. 

It isn’t Danny coming, he knows; the footsteps are too quiet, too close together. Kayla, then. That’s good; hopefully she brought him some food, because he’s starving. 

“I feel so sick,” he says, and he knows he’s whining, but he can’t bring himself to care. Distantly, he’s grateful that he has friends he can whine to, friends who will take care of him even when he feels like this: miserable, jittery, in pain, fighting both insomnia and fatigue (always tired, never sleeping, like some sort of twisted fairytale curse). One day, when this is all over, he’ll have to thank Danny and Kayla for letting him crash on their couch (letting him fall apart, and not shaming him as he tries to piece himself back together).

The footsteps reach the living room, then stop, lingering in the doorway. “Will?” The voice is soft, but it cuts straight through him, and his stomach turns. Not her; anyone but her. 

She-his precious little sister, the best thing that’s ever happened to him, the only one in his family that doesn’t treat him like a freak half the time-cannot be seeing him like this: burning from withdrawals, fraying at the edges. She’ll never look at him the same way again. 

Part of him wants to ignore her, to pretend she isn’t there. Maybe he can convince himself that this is all some sort of dream, or a hallucination of some kind. But… She is there, and already, he knows she’s scared. 

Digging up every bit of strength inside him, he opens his eyes, and tries to sit up. Nope, bad idea. The room spins, and he lets his head fall back onto the couch cushion, settling for facing her. “Hey, Evie.” His voice is hoarse, like he’s been screaming for hours (and maybe he has; the past few days are a blur in his mind), but he can at least force a weak smile. “What are you doing here?” 

She knows something’s wrong; it’s written all over her face. But she’s still young (younger than he ever was at her age; by sixteen he was bitter, and angry at the world, aware of anything and everything that could dull the pain), so as long as he can put on a good show, she won’t figure out what it is. Hopefully. 

At last, she speaks, taking a tentative step toward him at the same time. “I just wanted to show you what Mom and Dad got me for my birthday.” It sounds almost like a question. 

Wait, birthday? No way; her birthday isn’t for-

Oh no. No, no, no. He’s never missed her birthday. Not once, even from her very first. He’s doted on her with cake, presents, and singing, making sure she knows exactly how important she is to him. But since he missed his first dose, the details of life have gone by the wayside, and now all too soon, she’ll know he forgot (though it’s so painfully obvious, she probably already does). 

“What-” He’s shaking, he realizes absently, and tries to force himself still. “What did they get you?” 

There has to be something he can do, he reasons. Something he can pull out of thin air, some way to convince her that no, really, he didn’t forget. It should be easy enough-he’s always been a quick thinker-but now it feels like his brain is fighting through a sea of fog, and it’s losing. He’s losing. 

“A car.”

“Nice.” Really nice; they definitely never bought him a car (and the anger stirring in his chest must be a withdrawal symptom, because he never even asked them for a car, but it burns all the same). 

This isn’t helpful. He needs to focus, but it seems almost impossible. Hunger, pain, frustration, and exhaustion war in his mind, and he can’t seem to push past them. Not even for her. 

Against his will, his mind is drawn to his backpack, to the stash even Danny and Kayla don’t know about. It’s just across the room, and it would be so easy for him to get to it. It wouldn’t take long for the effects to hit, and he’d start to feel human again. Just one dose, a voice at the back of his mind whispers. Just one dose, for Evie’s sake. Is there anything he wouldn’t do for her? 

And then what? Is he going to quit a second time? To start this misery over from the beginning, and go through withdrawals all over again? No. Deep down, he knows that if he gives in now, this will never end. He’ll always find another excuse, another reason, to take just one more dose. He’ll be trapped in this cycle, never quite able to break free, and he’ll never stand a chance of getting into Quantico.

The thought is enough to steel him. Is he really willing to do that?  Give up the chance to put the bad guys behind bars, to save little kids from having to weep over dead mothers? Not for a second. No, taking another dose isn’t an option; he’ll just have to deal with Evie on his own, even if everything in him is fighting back.

Evie’s watching him expectantly, and he realizes she must have answered while he was lost in his own head. 

“Sorry, what’d you say?”

But apparently she’s had as much of this as she can take. “What is wrong with you?”

What’s wrong with me? A bitter laugh slips out of his mouth before he can stop it, a thousand answers bubbling up in his mind. Should I start with my childhood trauma, the constant pressure I’m under, or my feelings of isolation? No reason to let that psychology degree go to waste, after all. What’s wrong with me? How long do you have?

Inhale. Exhale. This is his little sister. This is Evie, and he loves her. He will not allow the fire in him to scorch her. 

“Stomach bug.” He manages another shaky smile. “Might not want to get too close to me.” 

“Stomach bug?” She echoes. Fear gives way to gentle concern, and Will can finally breathe. She’s actually convinced. That’s good, because everything still hurts, and if she doesn’t leave soon, his control might start slipping. It’s taking everything in him just to hold it together. 

“Mmm. Something I picked up at Harvard.” It’s not even completely a lie. “Listen, as soon as I’m feeling better, we’ll do something together, okay? You can even drive me somewhere in that car of yours, if you promise not to speed.” How he finds an ounce of teasing to slip into his words, he has no idea. 

Pursing her lips together, she seems to weigh her options. “Maybe you should come home. Mom makes a really good chicken noodle soup.” 

Soup sounds amazing, and Will’s stomach grumbles (and maybe, just maybe, there’s a child inside him that really loves the idea of going home, of having his family there to help him through this), but he firmly ignores it. Evie may be young and innocent, but his dad and Michelle are not. They’d take one look at him and know, and then their whole family would know.

“I’m okay.” This one is, in fact, completely a lie, but a necessary one. At the very least, he can follow it up with some truth. “Danny and Kayla are taking good care of me.” Then, because he has to ask, “Wait, how did you find me? Did they tell you where I was?” 

If they did, he might never forgive them.

“I saw Kayla at the grocery store.” She shrugs. “She was picking up those weird cookies you love so much, so… I had a hunch, you know?”

“And how did you get in?”

She has the grace to look a little sheepish. “I looked around until I found their spare key.” 

And part of him wants to be angry-not at Evie, never at Evie, but at Kayla, for giving away his location, or at her and Danny, for having their spare key in such an obvious hiding place-but he forces himself to exhale. This isn’t their fault, he tells himself, and mostly believes it.

Deep breaths. Keep joking, keep teasing, and get her out of here. “Pretty sure breaking and entering is a crime,” he points out, and she huffs. 

“I didn’t break anything! I just-” But her voice rises, and Will can’t help but wince, closing his eyes in a helpless attempt to stop the echoing noise. She pauses, and when she speaks again, it’s soft. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” he says, but it’s strained, so obviously a lie that he can’t even look at her. 

“I should go. Get to feeling better, okay?” She starts walking; he hears her, but doesn’t bother opening his eyes again. It hurts too much, and besides, he’s exhausted, frayed to his limits in an effort to act somewhat normal for her. “I’ll leave some candy in your backpack in case you get hungry later.”

“Hm.” Candy sounds good, even if walking all the way over there sounds like a lot of work. He’s hungry, so hungry, and Danny and Kayla still aren’t back with food. Maybe he could ask Evie to bring it over to him instead, but he’s already told her he has a stomach bug; she has to keep her distance. 

Still, though, surely there’s somewhere closer than-

His backpack. 

Horror dawns, and he shoots upright on the couch, eyes flying open. It’s too much, too fast, and his entire body protests, but he ignores it, just focuses on a desperate “Evie, no-”

But it’s too late. When his gaze lands on the corner, he sees Evie: a vial in one hand, a syringe in the other, looking more pale than he’s ever seen her. 

No. No, no, no. He has to keep a clear head, has to think this out, but desperation and pain are clouding his mind, and the only thing he can think to say is, “Put that down.” 

“What is this?” But she’s sixteen years old, she’s read the label, and innocent doesn’t mean stupid; she knows what this is and what it means, so why is she dragging this out? 

“Put it down.” 

“Will, what is going on?”

“Evelyn, just-”

“Are you high?”

It’s out before he can stop it. “No, but I wish I was.” 

She withdraws as if he’s slapped her, and he has a moment-just a moment-of painful clarity. Reality settles in, not drowning out the aches but mingling with them, nearly too much to handle. 

“I’m sorry, I-just put it down, okay?” His control is slipping, and he swallows roughly. When she complies, he continues, “It’s withdrawals, Evie, just withdrawals. I promise, I’m trying t-I’m trying to get better. It just takes time.” 

Tears glisten in her eyes, and he can’t stop the panic clawing at his chest. His own vision blurs, but he ignores that. She’s crying. He made her cry, and it’s his fault, all his fault, and he’s so stupid. None of this would’ve happened if he’d just taken one more dose-

No. No, he can’t think like that; it’s not right. Not right. (He’s spiraling, and he knows it, but he can’t seem to stop, mind growing more and more muddled with rage and fear, with desperation, because he made his little sister cry, and-)

“How long?” Her voice shakes, but she holds her ground. “How long have you been-using?” The word sounds like poison on her lips. 

He can’t even think to form some sort of reassurance; all he can do is admit, “Since the second week at Harvard.” 

“And you’re-you’re quitting?”

“Yes.” He wills her to understand that he means it, that he’s done with that awful stuff for good. 

“So I can pour the rest of this out?”

And in spite of everything-in spite of every firm conviction that he’s done, that he never wants to touch that stuff again-there’s a part of him, wild and desperate, that wants to say no. Wants to beg her not to take it from him, or worse: shove her away, so that she’s nowhere near his precious stash. 

It’s that last urge, more than any other, that leads him to nod. Because no matter how bad things get, no matter how suffocating, he’s never going to let anyone lay a hand on Evie. Especially not him. 

She takes the vial and the syringe, and when she comes back again, she has neither. Wherever they are, they’re gone, and he can never have them again. There’s a pit of loss in his stomach, but with it, something like relief. One way or another, this is over. 

“Evie, I-”

“Do Danny and Kayla know?” 

“Yeah. They’re taking care of me. Evie, please-” He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for at this point. For her to not tell anyone? For her to not hate him? For her to not look at him like a complete failure?

She stares at him for several long seconds, expression unreadable, until finally, he looks away. His back to her, facing the edge of the couch, he waits for her to leave. He won’t blame her, he knows; after everything she’s seen, she has every right to leave him behind. The tears in his eyes slowly start to slip, and he wants to scream. He doesn’t cry in front of Evie, not ever, and-

And suddenly there’s someone sitting on the couch behind him, arms snaking around his waist, and a warm weight against his back. Her tears soak through his shirt, and he’s shaking so hard he can hardly think, but she doesn’t let go, and he reaches up, clinging to her arms like they’re the only thing keeping him from drowning.

“I’m sorry,” he says at one point, or she says; it’s hard to be sure. 

At last the tears subside, and she releases him, patiently waiting for him to look back at her. When he finally does, his heart breaks at the calm, steady expression on her face. It’s like she’s aged ten years in as many minutes. 

“I won’t tell anyone,” she promises, and he’s more than a little surprised. “But you have to get better, okay? Promise me you won’t ever, ever do something like this again.”

“I promise,” he says, and he means it to his bones. No matter what, he’s never going to put her through this again. 

“Good.” At last, she smiles, shaky but sincere. “I love you.”

And it’s so much more than he deserves, almost enough to bring him to tears all over again. “I love you, too, Evie,” he says quietly. “We’re gonna be okay, okay?” 

Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but someday, they’ll be okay.

 had so much fun writing the first scene dude... i feel like as a fanfic writer its a sin i haven’t written anything like it yet lmfaoo (to be fair i probably have but I just dont rem💀) anyways i hope you enjoy!

REPOST BECAUSE OF TAGS!!!

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Prompt : 9. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Warnings : just some cute floof, some cursing here and there

Word Count : 2.2k

Hesitation

Technoblade x GN!Reader

It was always peaceful in the tundra right before the sun set. Not only did the orange and red colours that reflected off the shiny snow send a wave of tranquility through the lands. It was a specific time where all the animals would go back into their homes before the mobs spawned at night fall, leaving the lands in complete silence.

Phil loved working at this time, getting small tasks done around the house that he wasn’t able to do throughout the day. Whether it was washing the dishes or dusting out the book shelves. Maybe even lounged around near the fireplace, planning out what he had to do the next day. It was always quiet, void of distractions to keep him from doing them.

But of course, with peace always came chaos.

“YOU CHEATED!”

“NO I DIDN’T!”

“YES YOU DID!”

The door cracked open, slamming against the wall behind it making the blonde jump from the sudden noise. He was ready to pick up his sword by his side until he recognised the voices of his house mates, shouting like little children.

Phil sighed, continuing to wash the dishes in front of him. While the bickering tended to amuse him at times, right then he just wanted to stay in the silence. He was quick to grab a pear of earplugs from his chest, pushing them snugly into his ear, blocking out the noise you both brought into the house while humming a small tune.

“There’s no way that your horse is faster that Carl! That’s just not possible!” Techno shook his head, his entire body still except for his left foot tapping consistently on the floor, “It’s just not possible.”

“Okay-” you pointed your finger in his face, “First off, her name is Raven and secondly, you just can’t admit that she’s better than Carl.” you crossed your arms on your chest, looking up at the piglin with teasing eyes.

Tech threw his head back with a groan, turning around gruffly and taking off his cape along with the skull mask covering his face.

“I won’t admit it because it isn't true!” he turned back to face you, mimicking your stance and tilting his head slightly to the side.

You raised your eyebrows at his response, nodding slowly, “Alright, alright,” you slowly took of your cloak, bunching it up and throwing it at him, his reflexes catching it before the fabric hit his chest, “Maybe it’s just the ridder and not the horse.”

Techno gasped, “You take that back.” he threw your cloak to the side.

You hummed, looking up and faking a thinking face, “Nah... I don’t think I will, I said what I said.” you stepped closer to the hybrid, sizing up his figure, “And what are you going to do about it?”

Techno squinted his eyes, a small smirk making its way to his face before he grabbed you by the waist, throwing you over his shoulder and walking away from the entrance into the living room.

“Hey!” You pounded at his back, wiggling in his tight grip, “Put me down you loaf!”

He laughed at your words but obliged, throwing you on the couch near the fireplace. Before you could sit up, he crawled over your form, knee besides one side of your waist with his other foot planted on the floor, keeping him steady hovering over you.

“Techno-” you chuckled nervously, trying your best not to stray away from his intense gaze, fighting the heat starting to rise to your face. Your hands pushed at his chest, weakening when he brought his face closer to yours, making you feel smaller than you already were.

He didn’t say anything, instead his fingers dug into your stomach, wiggling them across the fabric of your shirt. Your laugher filled the air, high pitched and bouncing off the walls of the cottage. You tried your best to control them, not wanting to give in to the blood god’s actions so quickly. But your hands on your stomach did nothing to stop his.

“Oh. My. God! Techno! Stop you fucking- oh god!”

“Take it back Y/n!” he laughed along with you, continuing his assault on your stomach, “Take it back or I swear to god you’re going to loose a canon life from being too ticklish.”

“NEVER!” you shouted between laugher, screaming when his hands began to move faster, knocking the breath out of your lungs. In the heat of the moment, he took your wrists into his fist, pinning them above your head, keeping your hands from interfering with his plans.

“Say. It.” even with one hand we was doing enough to keep you squirming underneath him, desperate for an escape.

“Okay! Okay! You- You’re a good rider Techno! You’re a good rider!” you finally admitted, your body falling limp against the cushions when he finally raised his fingers from your stomach.

Techno laughed at your state, leaning back with a cocky smirk on his face, “Glad to know we could come to an agreement,”

“I hate you,” you mumbled, your head rolling to the side on your shoulder as you caught your breath. You closed eyes in relief that the past few minutes were over, nearly falling asleep with the amount of energy you spent laughing.

Techno chuckled, taking your chin into his fingers, turning your head to look back at him, “Is that so?”

You nodded, fluttering your eyes open to look up at the pink haired man. Your breath hitched when you noticed how close his face was to yours. His entire presence felt suddenly close, his chest puffed out with long breaths, his legs practically tangled with yours, his face hovering over you, radiating heat you didn’t notice while he was tickling you. You watched as his face lit up red, his piglin ears straightening out of the side of his head, probably taking in the proximity as well.

Techno wasn’t one to get flustered often, but when he did it was always with the people he cared about. He trusted them enough to let that blood god persona he put on fade away leaving behind his shy, nerdy side you always adored. The side of techno who would read by the fireplace with Steve sat snuggly in his lap, the Techno who would spend hours trying to fix his glasses that broke constantly in his strong grip only having to craft a new one. The Techno who would grumble about compliments from you and Phil but the subtle spread of pink across his face told everyone otherwise. The Techno you grew to love the more and more he let you it.

He began to get a lot more playful with you as you friendship grew. When you moved in with him out in the snow it only increased drastically. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for the both of you to end up in this position or something similar to it (like the time he pinned you down during training), but he would always stop before things got too intimate and while it hurt, you’ve grown to accept it. You were glad to be his friend, his companion. You would take his friendship over not knowing him at all any time of the day.

You waited for him to pull back. To stand up and dust off his clothes, offering you his hand to pull you up with him and continue that night like normal. But he stayed, his dark, dull eyes staying down at you with a shine you’ve never seen up close before.

Techno didn’t know what to do either. He didn’t know what was prompted him to stay in this position, the sudden confidence that pushed him to keep his hand on your face, his lips so close to yours.  Maybe it was the voices in his head, annoyed with the constant stares and thoughts of adoration when you rode Raven around in the snow, your cape flowing beautifully behind you, face showing nothing but pure joy. They were relentless, calling him out on every emotion he was feeling because of you.

He wanted to move for your sake, he was the one on top of you in the first place, pinning you down. You were probably being polite not shoving him off of you, even if you’ve never done it before, he just always pulled away before you could. But he couldn’t, his muscles stiff and unable to move.

A small part of his brain told him you wanted this too, but he ignored it for his own sanity.

“Techno-” you whispered but before you could continue, the hybrid immediately took the single word as a protest, finally letting go of your hands but keeping his body close.

“Shit I’m sorry that- that was probably a bit much.”

You giggled softly, “No- uh, it was fine tech, no worries,”

He looked down at your bright smile glowing in his face.

“You’re really beautiful Y/n,” he whispered, letting the rough pads of his fingers trail down the side of your face, blushing when you nudged them with your cheek, accepting the comfort.

“You think so?” you whispered back, looking up at him with doe eyes.

“I-” he started, his breath hot against the tip of your nose as he glanced down to your lips, quickly looking back into your eyes. Why weren’t you moving? Why weren’t you cringing, laughing at the thought of ever kissing him?

“You- Do you want this.” you whispered, letting his thumb pull down at your bottom lip, watching as the plush skin softly bounced back.

He nodded, shivering when you tangled your fingers into his pick curls, pulling his face down and nudging your nose against his. He closed his eyes, a small, cute snort coming from the back of his throat at the affection.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“FUCK!”

You jumped at the sudden curse, Techno falling off of you and on to the floor besides the couch. Before you could process what just happened, the curse sounded again followed by a crash, both of your senses on high alert when you realised it was Phil’s voice coming from the kitchen. You rushed to grab your weapons from nearby, quickly pulling yourself together on the fact that your friend was in trouble.

You both ran as fast as you could, Techno in front of you with his sword drawn while you were behind loading your cross bow with an arrow. He barged into the kitchen, holding his blade in the air, ready to attack but all he was met with was a pair of wings slapping him in the face.

You dove under the large feathers, bumping the winged man to alert him of your presence.

“Oh... hey guys!” He smiled, taking out something from his ears and resting them on the kitchen counter. He sent a pointed look to the weapons in your hands, crossing his arms over his chest in confusion, “Why the weapons?”

“Are you alright?” Techno said, rubbing his nose from the hit.

“We heard you scream, thought you were in trouble.”

Phil chuckled nervously, “Sorry, my bad,” he turned around to face the both of you, “I just dropped a plate.”

You and Techno let out an audible sigh, dropping your weapons to the floor with a clank. You didn’t know how many times your heart could deal with the sudden bursts of adrenaline. Walking up to Techno, you took his hand away from his face, inspecting the soft red mark across his face from the whip of feathers. No matter how small the attack, you always made sure to check up on him, even when he didn’t need it.

But with your delicate touch came memories of the events that just happened

“Were- were you here the entire time?” Techno said hesitantly, looking up at his father with worried eyes. You took in his words, immediately pulling away from the hybrid, ignoring his small noise of protest.

“Yes, but i put in some ear plugs,” he pointed to them on the counter.

“Oh!” you piped in, “That’s- That’s good.”

“Was there something I missed?” he crossed his arms over his chest, looking at the both of you curiously.

“Nothing!” You both shouted at the same time, chuckling nervously.

“Okay?” Phil dragged out, pointing back to the sink, “Well, I’ll just-”

“Yeah! You- uh, get to that phil,” you began walking backwards, bounced into the edge of the counter. You played off the pain with a quick thumbs up and walking quickly out of the kitchen, mumbling curses under your breath.

“Are they alright mate?” Phil asked his son who seemed to be lost in his own world, staring at the spot you were once in, “Techno?”

“I- what?” He shook his head, “Uh, yeah- they’re,” he let out a small sigh, letting  his hand pass over his face, “Yeah, they’re fine.”

“Are you alright?”

Techno didn’t respond for a while, stuck in his own thought. Phil turned to his son, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Tech?”

“I think-” He let out a shaky breath, “I think I love them.”

...

IM SORRY FOR ENDING IT SO SUDDENLY

it was just getting to long and i didn’t want to loose motivation writing more😭

Permanent Taglist (Dream SMP) : @ossinsworld @lunarinnit @starstruckllamapuppy @shio-yuki @lovelychasbug @alice-blue-skies @chaosofsmarty @imamybubbles

Technoblade Taglist : @hyumiid @whenpugzfly @sammyxn @jackalopedoodles @notmesimpingfortechno @immadatmostthings

Crossed out mean couldn't tag :(

Festering Desire Chapter 5 (Genshin Reader Insert)

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A scream escaped (Y/n)'s lips, as they felt something cut and burn through their borrowed clothes, the excruciating pain enough to cloud their judgement under the influence of the crimson energy. Negative feelings intensified, they could only see red,  their anger nothing short of animosity, as they growled towards Diluc, narrowed eyes glaring with the intent to kill. The Pyro user analyzed the situation with concern, despite his calm and collected appearance on the outside. A strange person bearing crimson energy. Whoever this was, he could feel they were dangerous. He had to subjugate them and fast, before they could reach Mondstadt.

The quiet night had turned into a raging inferno. Scorching flames and ominous winds collided against one another, the destruction kept to a minimum for now thanks to the rain. Iron clashed with claws, an animalistic growl escaping the adventurer's lips as they used the cursed Anemo energy to propel themselves forward, using their momentum to push Diluc back, his feet skidding the ground from the brute force used. Thanks to his duties protecting Mondstadt at night, despite the difficult battle, he still had energy to finish the fight. On the other hand, (Y/n) looked even worse as time passed, getting consumed in hatred by letting the energy course through their veins.

Aster felt helpless as they watched their friend lose themselves slowly to this curse, but as long as (Y/n) and the red haired stranger fought, they couldn't do anything to interfere. The pressure from the clash was too much, their own small body trembling in fear and worry. It took one mistake for Diluc to send (Y/n) flying back with a scream, their body rolling on the ground until it reached Aster. Yipping desperately, they checked their friend's body, nudging them to stay awake. The painful shock from their body hitting the ground harshly, brought (Y/n) back to their senses slightly. "A-Aster-" they tried to say, only to cough up blood in the process, gripping the shirt near their heart, pain spreading all over their body from the brutal aftermath. 

Diluc's POV:

I looked down at the worn out person in front of me. The darkness of the clouded night lifted, finally giving way for the moonlight and a better view of them. They had the clothes of a treasure hoarder, however they didn't feel like one at all. I can see through the cuts I made near their torso the same crimson color that plagued the energy around them. 'Who are they, really? . . .' The more I analyzed their state, more questions than answers were found. I can't let them go, but bringing them back to the city was a risk I'm not willing to take.

As I raised my claymore to deal the finishing blow, I was caught off guard by a bright explosion, shielding my eyes from the intensity. I clicked my tongue in annoyance once I noticed what happened. The explosion was a distraction. And the person disappeared. Following them any further would be a waste of time, it's best to go back now. They won't go far with their injuries. 

(Y/n)'s POV:

It was a risky move, using the last of my energy to create a distraction so I could stumble away from them. How long should I keep going until I know for certain that he's gone? I can't focus on my surroundings, everything is blurred. Despite my best efforts to stay awake, exhaustion was too much for me to take, the world turning black as I fell onto the ground.

(Not gonna lie, this chapter was hard for me to write- I tried not to make it too Deus ex-machina while fighting a writer's block and trying to get a grip of how Diluc in particular would behave. Not too happy about the ending, but hey, we'll get a new companion to travel along soon, so stay tuned!~ )

Tag list: @zalladane  @the-gayest-sky-kid  @yue-caelum

All’s Fair In Love And War (Especially When It’s Both) Powerpoint!

I finally made one for the worldbuilding and main characters! Tagging: @ratracechronicler​, @merigreenleaf​, @maple-writes​, @half-litpersonas​, and @incandescent-creativity​ (since you want to be tagged in Powerpoints)! Here, here, and here are other info posts about this story.

[Image Description: a page titled: All’s Fair In Love an War (Especially When It’s Both)

AKA: The story I already want to start writing, even though I already have plenty of stories. End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: Overview

One bit happy world

Except the fact that humans are stuck in a fairly small enclosure because they tried to conquer the other species centuries ago

At that time so long ago, a scientist made prosthetics that gave elemental magic to people but also adversely affected their bodies

More info on the magic in a later slide

So, humans aren’t very happy about being in the enclosure

Some humans have come to believe that being 100% peaceful and ignoring the victims of the magical cyborg experiments (because they’re still going on) is the best way to convince the species to let them out

While other humans are convinced that a show of force and violence is the only way to get out

But this group has shady connections with the magical cyborg experiments

So, both groups are iffy

Good thing there’s one POV protagonist who couldn’t care less and just wants to live her life. End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: The Species (almost all these names are temporary)

Humans: Just regular, old, plain humans, nothing to see here, they certainly don’t have any inherent magic (that the author still knows nothing about), just the magic that is given to them through the prosthetics

The Shades: (Yes, this is the home world of the Shades from Bring Me That Horizon) the Shades eat human emotions, and they’re shapeshifters

The Snakes: This species feeds on human blood, they have snake scales, longer limbs in proportion to their body, large eyes, slit pupils, and snake scales all over their bodies; they have paralyzing toxins that are aerosols and are secreted by their hair; these toxins only paralyze humans

The Venus Girdles: This species feeds on human souls, they have hair that looks like a lot of Venus Girdle jellyfish fused to their head, they glow slightly, and they just have an ethereal feel; they feed using their Venus Girdle hair coming into contact with the prey’s skin and sucking up the life force, so a human can still live, and their soul will replenish the life force after a while; the feeding isn’t painful, just makes the human feel really tired

The Crabs (I suppose): This species claims to feed on human logic, they have carapace that grows over their skin, especially on their chest to protect their hearts, they’re usually faster and stronger than humans, and they have slit pupils; they actually feed on the inherent magic humans have (surprise, surprise the prosthetics are not even needed), and their carapace is especially anti-magic

The Celestials: This is a species no one has ever seen, but there’s a whole belief system around them, and they are actually real; I don’t know what they eat, but they live out in space around the planet, they protect the planet from invaders, their skin looks like the night sky, their hair and clothes are all flowy and wave in an ever-present wind, and they can change their body’s make-up to fit the atmosphere of the planet or space. End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: The Magic from the Prosthetics

It’s elemental magic...with a nefarious twist!

The fire magic lets a person control fire, but the source of their fire resides in their lungs, and if they exercise too much or get stressed out, the fire stokes and burns their throat (but they can breathe fire), and occasionally, they’ll have to cough up smoke

The water magic allows a person to control water and swim really well, but after a year, they grow gills, and that’s a painful process, and randomly, their bodies will forget how to use lungs, so they will have to breathe through their gills for an unspecified amount of time, which sucks if there isn’t a good water source around

The wind magic allows a person to control air, but they grow wings, which sounds great, but it takes two to three years to grow those wings, and it’s very painful throughout the whole process, and they hurt more than they should even after the wings are fully grown

Finally, the lightning magic allows a person to control lightning, but they basically have lightning in their bodies the whole time, which means that they have 24/7 static electricity that makes their hair stand on end, and the energy the lightning gives their bodes means they really can’t sleep, which really sucks, so they’re chronically tired. End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: Characters

I have way too many characters

Seriously, there are a lot of them

So, I’ll only talk about the really main characters

But I’m having fun, so it’s ok! End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: Chess

One of the POV characters

She was part of the most recent cyborg experiments (which are still going on), but she doesn’t remember any of it; her right arm and left leg are prosthetics

Actually, she doesn’t remember anything past two years ago, so she doesn’t know who she was before that

Because she was part of the cyborg experiments, people don’t particularly like to see her if they can identify her prosthetics

So, she keeps moving from city to city once people start to recognize her prosthetics

Survivor; the only time she doesn’t prioritize survival is when she goes to a bar and picks up someone so she doesn’t have to sleep alone

She doesn’t believe anyone would do anything for reasons other than selfish ones

Doesn’t trust anyone

Chill, though; she could see some alien she can’t explain and she’d just shrug; she also has no opinion on either of the different sides

One night, she’s found kissing the son of the leaders, and that causes a scandal

So, the leaders decide to cover it up by trying to say she’s really human and had been engaged to their son the whole time

Creed, their son, decides to cause some mischief, and she agrees

She keeps claiming that soon she’ll have to leave, but she never does

“I put my head down keep running away from it, anywhere I’m going can’t be worse than this, I need to get away before it pulls me in, I’m never ever getting close to anyone again.” (Right Left Wrong by Three Days Grace). End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: Creed

He’s the son of the leaders

...But is he?

He’s known as Callum Miro Rey, but he likes the nickname Creed (spoiler reasons why)

When they met at the bar, he seemed to recognize Chess from somewhere, but of course, she doesn’t remember

He is genderfluid, and I’m still figuring that out; he likes he/him, they/them, and she/her on different days, and it changes every couple days normally

He seems to be easily amused and doesn’t have an opinion on whether peace or violence is the best way to go

He just likes to watch humans bicker about the different sides

Doesn’t seem to care about much, but he does seem to actually have some kind of fond feelings for Chess

They become partners in mischief, to more? Possibly.

“And now the silence screams that you are gone, you’ve tuned me out, I’ve lost your frequency.” (Frequency by Starset). End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: Vesper

She is an important member of the peace group; she gives speeches about the logic of staying peaceful to get out of the enclosure

She grew up with parents who were hosts to the various ambassadors the different species would send inside the enclosure

Her parents always taught her to bury her emotions and never show that something affected her

While observing the ambassadors, she came to the conclusion that there was no way to fight the different species and expect to get out of the enclosure, that the only way to get out is to make the other species see humans as such a non-threat that they wouldn’t care about letting them out

Because she’s such a high rank in the peace movement, the violence movement sends the infamous demon twins, Thorne and Jude, to capture her

She’s logical, but she does have emotions, and she actually feels them very deeply, she just never shows them

And she’s also self sacrificial, very much so

“No one is coming to save you, the enemy means only to play you, and they take and they take and they give just a little.” (Save You by Manafest) End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: Thorne

His full name is Thorne Ragnik (and I’m only saying this because I’m proud I actually thought up last names)

He’s part of the violence movement, one of the demon twins (even though they aren’t twins)

He grew up poor because both of his parents were part of the previous cyborg experiments, so they were ignored by society (because the leaders are part of the peace movement), and now he’s an orphan

As such, he stole to survive, and one day, he stole from Jude’s parents’ house, and Jude caught him

But instead of raising the alarm, Jude decided to help Thorne because he wanted to and also because of the mischief

They’ve both been part of the violence movement for a few years, and they’ve become infamous for capturing opponents to the violence movement in their special way

Which means dancing with their prey until the prey is thoroughly confused and dazed

Thorne is more of the serious one, but he also gets dryly dramatic really quick

He wears a normal suit most of the time. End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: Jude

His full name is Jude Laynor

His parents are nobles that believe in the peace movement

And he’s a trickster who loves mischief

So, he doesn’t get along with his parents much

And when he was young, he met Thorne when Thorne tried to steal from his parets’ house, and he didn’t care

He actually hangs out with Thorne a lot after that, and he’s one of the reasons Thorne becomes more lighthearted

He joined the violence movement with Thorne at the same time, and they quickly became known as the demon twins

He’s more playful and teasing, and he wears fancy, flashy stuff

He grins all the time. End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: Maisa

He’s a Shade who has taken an interest in Vesper

He’s actually part of a group of different species that are working to make sure the humans never leave the enclosure, and in fact, they want to control humans even more

Vesper came to the conclusion that peace is the only way on her own, but once Maisa took an interest in her, he started manipulating her to make her believe even more in the peace movement

He manipulates her by seducing her, because of course

And Vesper knows Maisa’s horrible, but she thinks her sacrifice is worth it to let other people out of the enclosure

Maisa’s selfish, possessive, and a jerk

He’s a shapeshifter, and he does change between male and female sometimes

He basically feels he’s entitled to Vesper (he’s so interested in her because she does feel deep emotions even though she doesn’t show them), so when Thorne and Jude capture her, he’s going to send minions after them. End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: Quin

He’s the final POV character, but he won’t show up as a POV right away

That’s because neither Chess nor Vesper know that there are humans living on the outside of the enclosure, so that reveal should be hidden a little

I’m not sure how yet, but Quin was captured by the group of different species that want humans to stay in the enclosure sometime before the story starts

They keep him as basically an animal in a small cage: they show him off to the other species to convince them that humans aren’t sentient (which the group knows isn’t correct, but they want the others to believe so)

The species speak in their language around him (that he doesn’t speak), but one day, while they’re showing him off, he speaks back to them in their language because he learned a few phrases from them talking it around him so much

Which leads to him getting tortured for interrupting their plans

Which then leads to the totally not inherent magic in humans coming to the surface for Quin and helping him escape

He’s scared and doesn’t trust people much

Which leads him to the becoming a part of a small group of one human and a few different species or half-species, who is moving around outside the enclosure (I don’t know all of the characters, so they’ll go on the extra characters powerpoint if I make one)

I’m not sure all that he’ll do in this story, but he’ll be fun! End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: Aeflin

She is a human antagonist, she’s the scientist that is conducting the magic cyborg experiments now

She’s bubbly and happy, and she actually gives really good life advice

She just also doesn’t have very good ethics when she��s being a scientist

Very curious and will ask you tons of questions if she doesn’t understand what’s going on

She is with the other antagonist on the next slide, and they’re in a loving relationship. End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: Naivi

She’s the second human antagonist, she’s working on the outside of the enclosure to destroy the other species

She’s charming and teasing, at least to people who aren’t her enemies

I don’t know all of her backstory, but she’s a victim, while she also does some horrible things

Duality!

I already know she’s going to be a fun character. End Description]

Soulmates Aren’t Real - Soulmate!AU

Summary: Seven years ago, a “study” found that people who get incredibly close to death, meet their soulmate in their minds. People described them as an angel in the darkness, a light at the end of the tunnel. The idea alone made Tony want to hurl. It’s stupid. Bullshit. Soulmates aren't real.

Sure, Tony zapped himself every now and then. Occupational hazard. But as of yet, he hasn’t come close enough to death to object the study with facts. And though he is a curious man by nature, he’s not that curious. His "soulmate" will show up on their own time. And if they don’t? They don’t. Whatever. Tony can tinker all he likes. He’s content in his lab. Even if it’s a little quiet sometimes...

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Or: Every time Tony nearly dies in the MCU canon, he sees and talks with Peter (who ages appropriately - aka during Iron Man 1, Peter is 6 years old, etc etc etc). It’s a little Cinderella like, if you ask me, aha!

-

Author’s note: Hi everyone! This started as a small idea that I just wanted to get out of my brain. Took me two Saturdays to write and it's barely edited, aha. I hope you enjoy it, though! <3 -Lien

Words: 3589

Warnings/tags: Fluff, Angst, Soulmate!AU, Mentions of death (a lot), Mentions of attempted near-suicide, read this however you like, I wrote this as Irondad.

Read Soulmates Aren’t Real on AO3!

   Occasionally, Tony wonders how much he resembles Sherlock Holmes. He drinks a lot more than what’s probably healthy and he thinks faster than other people around him. Though, he is of the opinion that everyone deserves a chance, not all deserve kindness. He likes being alone, tinkering, and losing track of the days. He actually enjoys fucking up his sleeping patterns, since it means he’s being productive. He’s in a flow. He’s busy.    Right now, he’s absolutely certain he’s Sherlock Holmes. The only reason being this one single thought that keeps bouncing through his head every time he scoffs and rereads the article in front of him. People are idiots. Tony would love to have a Watson by his side, but unfortunately for him, his soulmate has yet to show their face. Speaking of soulmates, the article is about just that.    Seven years ago, a “study” found that people who get incredibly close to death, meet their soulmate in their minds. People described them as an angel in the darkness, a light at the end of the tunnel. The idea alone made Tony want to hurl. It’s stupid. Bullshit. Soulmates aren't real. Those people who cheated death claim that some rando they meet is the one they saw when they nearly died. That they belong together. People cheated over this, saying that the person they saw when they died looked nothing like their current partner, or maybe like another friend. The study ripped apart tons of marriages and while that’s partially why Tony thinks people are idiots, there is another reason. The reason that is in the article he’s reading.    Death therapy. Jesus Christ, who even came up with that shit? More and more people want to know who their soulmate is. If who they are with now is the right person. If they will ever meet them. If they already lost them. And so, they try to almost die. Drug abuse, waterboarding, even playing with electrical equipment and guns. Idiots. People are idiots. And this whole article is about some kind of soulmate cult where groups of twenty all try to get as close to death as they can just so they can get a glimpse of what their soulmate looks like. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID.    The people who organize those things are predators, aiming to get as much money out of people as they possibly can. Let them sign wavers that if they do die, which happens ninety percent of the time, the cult can’t be held accountable. Death rates have risen significantly since the study came out and it’s insane. Soulmates don’t exist and nearly dying for the sake of having a looksie at the true love of your life is psychotic. A money-grab, to scam people who are extremely gullible. And oh, boy, are there many gullible people on this hell of an earth. If only they knew all this crap was fake. So many innocent lives would be spared.    Sure, Tony zapped himself every now and then. Occupational hazard. But as of yet, he hasn’t come close enough to death to object the study with facts. And though he is a curious man by nature, he’s not that curious. His Watson will show up on their own time. And if they don’t? They don’t. Whatever. Tony can tinker all he likes. He’s content in his lab. Even if it’s a little quiet sometimes... ...    Afghanistan. The deal was supposed to be the greatest Tony had ever shook hands on. And then everything went to shit. The missile. The explosion. Darkness. And then a fuck ton of pain, clawing at his chest. He could hear someone screaming but he wasn’t sure who. Was it… Was he screaming? God, it hurt. Ached. Burned. Scratched. He was gasping for air and he wasn’t sure if his body could hold out any longer- if he could hold out any longer.    “Hello, there? Sir?” A small voice asks. Tony gasps and writhes, turning on his stomach before crawling up to be met with a boy. Pale skin, brown hair and brown eyes. Cute. “Are you okay? Mister?” Tony brings his hand to his chest in an attempt to feel where the horrific pain is- was? It’s gone. He’s fine. When did that happen? Is he… Is he dying? Or is he already dead?   “Hey, there, kid,” he sighs, somehow grateful that the hell he was in has passed. He doesn’t exactly want the child to be part of his panic, so he takes a glance at his seemingly infinite surroundings and casually asks his question. “Where are your parents?” The boy looks around, pursing his lips and raising his eyebrows. He then turns to stare at Tony with his big eyes.   “I dunno.” Tony moves so that he’s at eye level with the boy and studies him.        It’s only then that it dawns on him that… Oh, God. Nope. No, this isn’t real. It’s stupid and fake and there’s no way this little kid could be his soulmate. It’s just his dying brain, giving him something to work with before he vanishes into nothingness. Normally, he wouldn’t get anywhere near children. They were quite the liability and honestly the epitome of contrast to his bombostuous life. His biggest fear has always been one of his bed partners showing up on his doorstep, carrying a baby. His baby. He has no time for that. Or well, had. Since it’s his last moments alive, he might as well indulge the imaginary kid.        “How old are you?” The boy thinks for a second and then looks at his hands. He raises one, fingers stretched out, and then the other; just a thumbs up.   “Six!”   “Six?” Tony smiles. “That’s a big number.”  “Mhm!” The boy nods aggressively. “Need two hands now.” He waves his little fist around and grins. He then looks down at his hands and looks back up. “How many hands do you need?”   “A couple more than you do, kid,” Tony scoffs.   “So, you’re like, really old?” Ugh. Kids.   “Old enough to be your dad.”   “You’re not, though!”   “Thank God, no.”        Tony sits down on his butt and pats the floor next to him.   “Mind doing me a favor, kid?” The boy sits down next to him and pulls in his legs, resting his head on top of them. “Depends, Mister. I’m not actually allowed to talk to strangers.” He thinks for a second and then continues. “And you’re about as strange as it gets.”   “Is that a compliment?” Tony chuckles.   “Depends on who you ask.” The reply has Tony scoff a laugh, louder, and he throws his head back This kid…         “Cheeky little thing, aren’t you?” The boy doesn’t reply. Instead, he hides his face to laugh himself. “So, the favor...” Tony starts, trying to get back the boy’s attention.  “Hm?”   “Just… Be kind, okay? If you really are out there… Life’s too short to-”        Tony opens his eyes, confused. He takes a second to assess his location. He’s lying on something hard and uncomfortable and there’s this dull, continuous ache in his chest. He groans when he realizes… Guess I’m not dying anytime soon.         ...    He was terrifically wrong about that. The organization that put him and Yinsen in that cave were absolute monsters. Tony knew better than to struggle a dozen men with big guns unarmed, but when they brought him to the trough with water, he fought nonetheless. His head was pushed in. His body convulsed and though his brain was telling him to stay calm and simply hold his breath, he kept fighting the aggression from his captors. It wasn’t long before he saw flashes again. Of the same boy.        “Mister?” The voice was muffled through the water in Tony’s ears. He wanted to yell at the boy, to look away from the trauma and ensure his safety, but whenever the kid became clear enough in his mind’s eye, he was pulled from the water for air, and then pushed back in, to start the process all over again…        Nobody was to know. He wasn’t going to tell anyone about this… Unnamed boy in his lucid dream. Nothing happened. He didn’t even say what his captors did to him, though with the arc reactor now glowing in his chest, people assumed the worst. If they asked him whether or not he saw someone, his answer was always the same.   “No.”        Tony regretted not asking the kid for his name, but then, everything would’ve become too personal anyways. And soulmates aren't real. Even though Tony had seen the boy on multiple occasions at this point. He should just stop almost dying, to be honest. Though, with his new job as Iron Man, he wasn’t sure if he could hold off on that. He ignored the boy’s worried touch on his thigh when he was paralyzed after his ex-business partner/mentor ripped out his new heart. He tried to tune out the encouraging words as he crawled down to his lab to push the old one back in. The boy was only a figment of his imagination. He couldn’t be real. He. Isn’t. Real.   ...      Palladium poisoning. Great stuff. You know what’s even greater? Being haunted by the ghost of an eleven-year-old. Tony never got close enough to death to even be able to say hi to the kid and he wasn’t sure if he was grateful or disappointed. The boy was still smaller than average. Clumsy, even. His glasses were cute, though. Red and gold. Iron Man themed. Adorable. He squeezed his eyes, trying to look through them. Maybe they were the wrong prescription?        The first time Tony saw him was when he was in the bathroom. In true horror-style fashion, the nerdy boy appeared in the mirror. When Tony yelped and turned, the kid was gone. He then appeared for a brief moment on the side of the road when Tony was racing the Formula One. The billionaire nearly crashed his car when he did his double take. From then on, everywhere Tony went, the oblivious boy would be by his side. Not being dead enough to talk to the kid, also meant he wasn’t dead enough for the kid to see him. It was torturous to see the boy play and learn and grow without being able to be a part of it. Funnily enough, Tony still didn’t like children. He just… He liked the boy. And no, it wasn’t because the kid was his soulmate. Soulmates aren't real.     ...    Tony was certain flying the nuke into the wormhole would be a one way trip. He’d see the boy one last time, maybe even be able to say goodbye and satiate his need to know the boy’s name, before he’d kick the bucket. At least he’d die peacefully, knowing he stopped an alien war on earth and therefore protected the boy. Twelve. He should be twelve now. Why Tony even bothered to remember the kid’s age, he didn’t know.        “Mr. Stark?” Tony’s vision blurs, the alien spaceship fading to black as his muscles lose tension and his suit gives up on him. He falls. But he doesn’t.   “Yeah, kid, I’m here. For the last time.” Tony frowns as he pulls in his legs, seated on the floor. He sniffs once and looks up to see the boy sitting across from him. “Hopefully.”   “Wait, you want to die?” The question was awfully direct, which makes Tony scoff.   “I’ve seen you so often now…” The barely dead billionaire glances to the side. “That can’t be healthy.” He purses his lips. “Also, the healing process of coming back from the dead is a pain in my butt. Pardon my French.”   “I like seeing you.” The boy fiddles with his fingers and looks down shyly.        “Do you really see me? Like, for real real?”   “I’m dreaming. It feels real, but I don’t talk about it with anyone.” The boy cocks his head and raises his shoulders casually. “I think we both think we’re each other’s imagination.”   “Well, we are, aren’t we?”  “Definitely.” The kid nods aggressively. He crosses his legs and looks at Tony through his long lashes. “Nobody believed me when I said I think you’re my soulmate because I dream about you. Then again, nobody nearly dies as often as you do.” They both chuckle, but the sound quickly fades. “They just think I idolize you a little too much.” The boy frowns and then straightens his back. “I mean, I do idolize you, I- I think you’re a genius! Your papers on Artificial Intelligence are groundbreaking-”   “Kid- you’re twelve, you shouldn’t even be able to read those.”

   “I…” The boy presses his lips on top of each other. “The books I have to read at school are boring.” He almost seems guilty about saying it. “Those papers are filled with big words, though. You understand all of it?” Tony stares at the boy in awe. “I Google things I don’t know, but context usually explains a lot.”     A short, stunned silence settles between the two of them. Tony can barely believe how smart this boy is. He calls Tony a genius, yet he is a genius himself. People who graduated university, specialized in Artificial Intelligence, ask Tony to clarify his papers. So either the boy is messing with him, trying to seem big, or he’s actually incredibly bright. The thought alone makes Tony reminisce about the first time he met the boy, when he still had to use two hands to show Tony how old he was. That was six years ago. Six. He’s fairly certain the boy is a terrible liar, though. And he’s not lying now.     Tony’s eyes open wide, every muscle in his body clenches at the sound of the Hulk’s roar right next to him. There was so much he still wanted to ask the boy. At least he was still alive. Maybe he’ll find him and if not, Tony hopes he’ll near-die again soon. ...     He didn’t expect his own Malibu house crashing down on him and forcing him into the sea to drown being the way he’d go. He’d never been in a worse situation than this. There was no one there to save him. He’d die, never having met his soulmate. Who knows, maybe they’ll meet again in the afterlife, one day. Tony closes his eyes and lets the quiet wash over him as his suit shuts down.     The silence is broken by a quiet sob. The sound brings Tony back to the half-afterlife present and he opens his eyes. The boy is sitting right in front of him again, crying visibly and audibly. “Hey, hey-” Tony moves forward to place a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” “I don’t want you to die, Mister Stark.” “What makes you think it’s for real this time?” “You just said it yourself,” he sobs. “There’s no one to save you now.” “You heard that?” The boy nods, face twisted. “Well, since I’m still here, I’m not gone yet,” Tony tries with a smile. The boy looks up, tears streaming down his face and shoulders slightly shaking. His red cheeks puff and he sniffs. “We haven’t even met-” The boy squeezes his eyes shut and pushes in, hugging Tony’s chest tightly. The man raises his arms in surprise, but hearing the kid sob, breaks his heart in ways he never thought possible. He embraces the boy and rests his head on top of his. “I can’t lose you too.”     “Too?” Tony’s voice cracks and he clears his throat, trying to remain composed. “M-my parents-” Oh, no. Tony immediately pushes the boy away from his chest and ducks his head, forcing the boy to look in his eyes. “Kid, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. I’m going to meet you, ‘kay? Give me your name and I’ll find you.” “Promise?” “Promise.” The boy takes a second to collect himself and Tony wipes his tears with the sleeve of his shirt. “My name’s P-”     The second it dawned on Tony that he was still alive, but without the knowledge of the boy’s name, he wanted to cry. And so he did. He was in snowy Tennessee. Many, many miles from home. Who knows, maybe P is somewhere around here? This couldn’t be a coincidence anymore. The boy has to be real. And Tony left him alone. Truly and utterly alone. Just as he is right now. He sobbed quietly as Jarvis shut down. It wasn’t long before he stood up, hugging himself, making the resolute decision that wherever he was, whatever was going to happen, he was going to live. For P. ...     Harley filled up the hole P had left for the short while they spent together. Tony learned to care for him, but it wasn’t the same. All he could think about was the other brown-haired boy in the back of his mind. His soulmate. His P. After the whole Mandarin situation was dealt with, there was no way he could go looking for the now thirteen-year-old without seeming like a creep. P. That was all he knew about him. His name started with a P. First name? Last name? Nothing narrowed it down. He had to let it rest. He simply had to. But he couldn’t. For the first time in his life he felt like the people he once called idiots. But he couldn’t afford to die. Not with the boy out there waiting for him. And so, he shut the tab on his tablet, linked to the Death Therapy site. Maybe he wasn’t Sherlock Holmes after all. If only he could find his Watson. ...     Sokovia was hell. He got so close to seeing his boy again. So close. But not close enough. He tried to reach for P, but their encounter was cut short. “Mr. Stark! Mr-” P yelled. “I’m P-! Don’t go, please! Please! My name-” “Kid!” “P-t-” It was torturous. Tony wished he could go back to when he didn’t care. When he didn’t think the boy was actually real. But he couldn’t. P is out there. Somewhere. And by God, Tony would find him. Whatever it takes. ...     Spider-boy. Whoever it was, the web-slinger caught Tony’s attention. A young hero, wanting to help out the little guy. He was young, though. And so, Tony felt the need to be a mentor. To guide the young man into becoming the hero everyone would root for. That and whatever the boy was wearing was absolutely unsafe for the job. Tony wanted to give the kid something he could work with to make it all safer for everyone. Plus, he needs someone Steve would go easy on, should Berlin go South. Pepper did most of the research and the phone call went by quickly. Tony didn’t really feel like talking anyways. “Alright, so he lives on 15th street. I’ve texted you the building and the address.” “Thanks, Pep.” Little did she know Tony was already at the front door. “Oh, and his name is-” “Bye, Pep.” He hung up and knocked.     The door was opened by a lovely woman in her late forties. Of course, she immediately recognized him and let him in, offering him a seat on the couch. “My nephew is probably your biggest fan,” she yelps, clapping her hands with excitement. “You are here for him right? He applied to your scholarship a couple weeks ago.” “Yes!” Tony clears his throat. “That’s exactly what I’m here for.” He raises his eyebrows and continues his lie. “He got the scholarship, so I wanted to let him know personally. As I… eh, I do with all other people who got it.” Not every hero shares their identity with the ones they’re close with. It’d be better for Spider-guy if Tony played it safe. ...     Not much later, the door opened again. Tony looked up with a smile, knowing it’d be the friendly neighborhood hero he was going to recruit. His expression faltered when he saw the boy’s face. His boy’s face. P. That’s P. “Ah, perfect timing!” May exclaims cheerfully. “Look who’s here to see you!” Tony blinks and clutches his chest. He’s having a heart attack, isn’t he? He’s dying. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening.     Peter seems just as taken aback, seeing the billionaire of his dreams - quite literally - on the couch with his aunt. After a short while of amazed silence, May breaks it. “What’s up with you two all of a sudden? It looks like you’ve seen a ghost!” They can’t help ignoring her. Tony slowly stands up and shuffles closer to the boy who drops his backpack to the floor. “Mr-” “Say your name-” Tony whispers, inching closer and closer until he invades Peter’s personal space. “Please, tell me your name.” Peter looks up at him, wide-eyed, flustered. His lips part, but he swallows before he speaks. “Peter. My name is Peter Parker.” P. Peter. Parker. Peter Parker. Holy- It fits. Everything fits. Sherlock has found his Watson. Everything feels so insanely right in this moment.     Tony slowly raises one hand, placing it on Peter’s fast beating heart. Peter curls both hands around Tony’s and opens their palms, sandwiching Tony’s hand between his. “Need three hands,” Peter mutters. “Four soon.” He moves his hands to Tony’s chest, feeling the scar of where his arc reactor used to be push through the fabric of his dress shirt. “You’re not dying again, are you?” Peter asks quietly, almost scared. “No, kid,” Tony sighs. Content. Finally. “I think this is real.”

The Weight of a Name.

Summary: The weight which a name can carry is great. However, sometimes the greatness of a name can be tainted. (Basically, no one discusses Mattie’s trauma from prison, so here is a short fic based on the trauma from prison and how it feels for her to hear her name spoken by those who aren’t convicts again).

A/N: It’s taken me ages to actually edit this. It’s sort of shitty and really short (1,100 words) because I think this was for a prompt at another time and I was writing it with the intention of sending it to a server, but it sort of spiralled, wrote this one shot.

Everywhere around her were people she didn't recognise, she had never been able to recognise them, Mattie had never seen any of these people in her English class before. They all looked confident and happy, talking loudly as she sat alone, the chair beside her empty. Around the room, empty whispers of nothings seemed to sound louder than they should sound, like car alarms and fireworks.

They were talking about her, Mattie was sure. They were talking about her and it was loud. All Mattie could hear, if she tuned herself into the noise, was her name. The whispers were beginning to sound angry; their words like sandpaper, harsh and unforgiving.

No one had mentioned Mattie as she had come back to school. No one had remembered who she was from orientation. No one had heard the name "Mattie Wheeler" in months. The whole of the ninth grade at Giles Corey High School didn't much care about the one new face who had popped up in a few classes. But Mattie was sure they knew. Sure they were talking about her. Conspiring, plotting.

It felt like she was on fire all over, a burning sensation that had started in her chest and pit of her stomach was rapidly starting to spread over her entire body. Mattie felt both heavy and weightless at the same time, her skin prickling underneath her fuzzy blue sweater.

They were screaming her name. Her name was being screamed, loud and harsh, the sound taunting her. She'd heard the same thing before. Her name shouted to her, pleading yet taunting. The other inmates who were with Mattie loved to say her name. It seemed to roll off their tongues in the smooth fashion in which honey ran. Her name had stopped feeling like her name long before the English class; no longer a word which was only spoken by those who care about her.

It was so loud. The sound was so taunting. It hurt. It hurt so much. Her body was still burning. Her classmates had to be convicts too, only convicts would be able to say her name in such a way.

Mattie clenched her hands into fists by her sides - maybe if she stopped moving, became invisible, they'd all stop. Stop the whispering. Stop the speaking. Stop the shouting. If going still and silent worked in prison, it should surely work here too. It had to work.

"Mattie?" Mrs Davidson spoke gently, suddenly very aware of a barely-breathing-barely-moving Mattie Wheeler. Mrs Davidson spoke with a tone unlike the ones Mattie was able to hear, soft and careful, tiptoeing around words,

Mattie didn't reply. She had heard her teacher, and it had sounded kind, the sort of voice that she had needed within the anger that boomed from the rest of the room. ...Until it merged into the painful din of everyone else - loud and unrelenting.

"Mattie Wheeler?" Mrs Davidson prompted again, getting up from her seat at the desk to standing beside Mattie. The English class could barely tell that their teacher had moved from her assumed position, far too busy on their assigned project, their voices not raising above their approved volume. "Mattie, do you need some help with anything?"

She could feel her heart rate spike suddenly as her teacher spoke to her. Mattie could feel the eyes on her everywhere, the eyes and the whispers and the pleading. It was too much. It was too much. Staying still and quiet wouldn't work. Mattie couldn't do this forever.

"Mattie do you-" Mrs Davidson began once again.

"Shut up!" Mattie exclaimed, her eyes suddenly snapping up the teacher, her fists unclenching. "Everyone shut up, shut up!"

"Mattie-"

"Don't use my name like that!" Mattie stood up quickly, her heart racing, feeling the blood rush through her ears; hands numb, breath quick. "Stop, stop, stop!"

Mattie stared around at her English class, each face a stranger still, someone she had never recognised. Her chest began to rise and fall, fluttering and rapid, too quickly for comfort.

"Mattie Wheeler!" Mrs Davidson replied, her voice dripping with shock and unavoidable anger. She'd been told not to tell Mattie off; she'd been told not to raise her voice at Mattie.

Mattie couldn't take her name any longer. The name which had been said in that way that too much - the anger, the plead, the shock.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" Mattie cried, her voice a broken, filled with sobs and painful gasps as she stood frozen. Mattie was still as her body shook uncontrollably, unable to regulate her breathing. "I didn't- I-."

"Okay, okay. Mattie, come with me, alright?" Mrs Davidson's voice was so soft, so gentle, as she reached out a hand. Mattie's table and seat was close enough to the door that the walk wasn't a long one out of the classroom.

There were other students staring, their eyes trained on Mattie; the first time they had paid much attention to the new student, the first time it had occurred to them that anything of their class had changed. The whispers started again, but this time, the whispers were real. Harsh and real, true confusion and malice behind each whisper at her name. The rumours were biting.

Mattie shook her head in reply to her teacher, still standing as tight and as still as possible, tears streaming down her face, burning as they ran. The calls of Mattie's name didn't seem any louder or harsher to Mattie any more, simply, they felt distant. So far away, as Mattie looked around, she couldn't quite tell that she was in the same room as the voices any more. All the people she didn't recognise - blurry.

Then she was in the hallway. Mrs Davidson sat beside her, counting through breathing, slow and deep, in and out.

"I'm sorry," Mattie mumbled, tugging at the sleeve of her sweater.

"You don't need to be, I promise. You did the best you could today," Mrs Davidson replied, her voice filled with calm reassurance.

"What about- what about the class?""They'll forget about this all eventually. Take a day or so more off, okay? That must've been hard."

Mattie nodded at that. She was exhausted and aching all over as she started to properly process what had gone on. "I'm sorry..." she hummed again, her voice quieter than before.

Mattie knew she wasn't okay, but she knew she'd get stronger every day. This was one hurdle to overcome, and she came out the other side. It would be okay in the end, she was sure.

TAGS: specifcally for @one-time-i-jumped-off-a-cliff and @anneschoker because Azzy slept and LOOK MATILDA, MATTIE ANGST FOR YOU!!! Also @theatergirl06, @boombiotch @katschoker @too-many-fandoms-too-count @oh-boleyn @woulddieforkhoward (tell me if i missed you!!)

toxic - chapter 13

hello :) how are you? i hope you’re all doing well. this chapter is going to be set up a little differently. we’ve got a time skip going on that moves from where we were (about a week or so after thanksgiving) to about a week before christmas. there’s going to be a lot of explaining in this chapter and some flashback clips in times we didn’t get to read about. i really hope you enjoy this chapter though, i’m about to cram a lot of character development in here but i hope it’s still enjoyable. thank you!🤍

The weeks leading up to Christmas were always the longest weeks of your childhood. What kid doesn’t get stir crazy when waiting to be out of school and get presents?

The weeks leading up to Christmas, for you, were an emotional whirlwind. Your life took so many unexpected turns and you were in a situation you never thought you’d end up in.

Ransom was now living with you in your apartment and on the right path to becoming a good person. You weren’t quite sure how you thought about that (Claire was enraged beyond belief), but how was were you going to try and help him?

After the first week or so it wasn’t too bad. He didn’t like the idea of sleeping on the couch instead of with you, but he wanted to be there so he had to follow as instructed.

As time went on, he started to be a different person. Was he the perfect gentleman with a clean record? No, of course not. That would be asking too much of him at once. He definitely showed signs of changing and was visibly making an effort to be better. He knew this was what had to be done to even begin to think about being with you.

It took him many weeks of hard work and determination to start the process. One of your first acts of business was get him a therapist. You had a therapist you visited every so often, so you got him the same one.

“You didn’t,” Ransom growled under his breath. You nodded calmly. “You know it’s what’s best. I can come with you to as many appointments as you’d like,” you reasoned gently, reaching across the table to put your hand on top of his. He glared at you from across the table and you sighed. “Or you can just go back to Boston and forget about this...”

“Goddammit (Y/N), fine!” He yelled reluctantly. You smiled.

He didn’t hate it as much as he thought he would. Was he reluctant to talk the first couple appointments? Yes. But after Michael (your therapist) had done a little gently poking, he opened up.

Ransom was also beginning to be a better person to his family and those around him. Right after he moved in with you, you made him call Harlan to update him on the situation. And while he was on the phone with Harlan, you wanted him to apologize to Marta and Fran for acting the way he had for so long.

“Granddad, can I talk to Marta?” Ransom asked flatly as he glared at you as you leaned against the wall next to him. He sighed and rolled his eyes as you gestured for him to start talking.

“Marta, I’m very VERY sorry for being such a douche,” Ransom huffed flatly. It wasn’t the apology you were expecting, but you took it. He wasn’t going to be perfect ever, and you were just happy to hear him apologize. You heard Marta responding as Ransom nodded a few times. You saw him roll his eyes at one point at which you gave him a warning look. His eyes darted to the floor after that.

After he made a very similar apology to Fran, he hung up and groaned loudly. You smiled and walked over to hug him.

“Proud of you,” you mumbled as your arms wrapped around his neck. He exhaled in amusement as he hugged you back.

“God, you always have to call me out on my shit,” he muttered. You pulled back and raised an eyebrow in amusement as his blue eyes gleamed back at you. He tried to lean in to kiss you but you put your hand against his lips to stop him.

“Nice try, Drysdale,” you smirked as you released yourself from his grip and walked to your room. No, you weren’t going to do anything like that with him until you decided he had worked hard enough, and Ransom knew that (but didn’t like to comply). He scoffed.

“Oh come on!”

He also had to try and make a good impression on Claire. You knew that would be more complicated and not as easy of a process, but he had to start somewhere.

Your first attempt did not end well. Claire had glared at him the whole time and only insulted him. And when Ransom had gotten tired of her attitude, he had (in the heat of the moment) called her a bitch and ended up with a bloody lip. You had to scold both of the five year olds; Claire for not even trying to be pleasant and punching him in the lip, and Ransom for allowing himself to get caught up like that.

“Holy shit (Y/N), I’m not perfect!” He had argued as you held a warm rag to his lip. You sighed, knowing he was right. Sometimes even Ransom had to call you out when your expectations were too high or unreasonable. It was a team effort, trying to make things better for the two of you. After all, you weren’t perfect either.

As time went on, Claire had softened up slightly. She would still take whatever chance she had to punch Ransom on the shoulder or slap him too hard on a back because “that’s what bros do,” she’d say through a gritted smile. Of course there were arguments that you would have to mediate, but you were willing to do it. Ransom was really trying.

Things weren’t always great between you and Ransom either. Sometimes you two would argue on behalf of the other’s behavior, get into a screaming match and isolate yourselves in different parts of the apartment.

Sometimes you would go and apologize, asking him to forgive you and to start over. Other times Ransom would swallow his pride and mutter a reluctant “sorry” to you as he stared at his feet. Only once had it gotten so bad that you threatened to kick Ransom out, after which he had whipped himself into shape by the next morning.

(One night Claire came over and found Ransom sitting outside your door with an angry expression on his face. Claire had laughed loudly and dramatically as she walked into your apartment and remembered the night she had sat there.)

Ransom had also done his best to try and be more sentimental. He would bring you little pastries and treats at your office, one day even going so far as to bring Claire something too.

“Set it on my desk and get out of here,” Claire snarled. She didn’t blink an eye as she saw him hesitantly set the bag on her desk. He glanced at you with nervous blue eyes before making his way quickly out. “Come on Claire,” you reprimanded with a hint of sarcasm. She smirked and giggled proudly as she took a bite into the chocolate croissant.

“Girl you know I have to stay superior to him. Gotta scare him so he stays scared,” she explained. You only shook your head and smiled before getting back to work.

And now, about four weeks later, you two were finally together. Ransom had began to ask you to be his girlfriend about two weeks into you two rooming together, but you shot him down quickly. Though it was (very, very) tempting to say yes and fall under his spell, you weren’t going to allow that. Your standards weren’t as loose as his, and considering your morals and standards you weren’t about to fall in love with a complete loser.

Claire was (somewhat) supportive to your face, but behind your back she would make threatening actions to Ransom (you know, the “I got my eyes on you” gesture, the slit throat gesture, the flipping off gesture, the works). Ransom was always quick to fight back with lots of mouthed words like “suck on that”, or “feels bad man”, or just plain taunting laughter.

Ransom really did try hard as a boyfriend. Considering he’d never been in a serious relationship it was weird and new, along with it took lots of adjusting to. Like wow, he was going to wake up with the same exact person everyday for a long period of time.

That’s wack.

Sure he had his moments that made your patience wear thin (“No Ransom we do not use the key to Claire’s apartment to go write ‘suck it’ on her bathroom mirror!” “Ransom I swear if you buy one more car I’m gonna lose it.”), but he always somehow made up for it in the end.

Christmas was coming up soon and you had no idea what you were going to do over the holiday. Stay at your apartment with Ransom? Go back to Boston with him? There were many options on what to do for Christmas and just thinking about it stressed you out.

One afternoon you sat at work when your work phone rang. You answered politely. “(Y/N), babe,” Ransom’s voice spoke through the phone. “Oh hey what’s up?” You asked in surprise as Claire rolled her eyes from beside you. “I think I know what we should do for Christmas,” Ransom began slowly. You straightened in your seat and raised your eyebrows. “Oh yeah, what do you have in mind?” You asked with a hint of tease in your voice.

“How’d you like to go to Vienna, Austria?”

WOAH. A TOXIC CHAPTER? AFTER LIKE 3 MONTHS??🤯 yeah, sorry guys. i was getting some passive aggressive hate for a while so i took a break and kinda lost motivation. i’m back now though, and i hope you enjoyed the chapter! also, if you’ve read any of my other ransom fics, stay tuned when reader and ransom go to austria because some things will be explained...😌

tags:

@heyiamthatbitch @mcuclintasha @captainsmallassrogers @fangirlinacoffeeshopweshare @anisiamoisa @awesomelittledemarco03 @aletteredaffair @castellandiangelo @theangrylizard @frencchfries @takemetooneverlanddd @sp2900 @smilexcaptainx @monpetitcoin21 @marymoon18 @mccunted @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @chuuulip @sweetlittlegingy @lookalivefrosty @brookebradford @patzammit @stucky-is-life-thank-you @bval-1 @need-more-time @blowfishevans @polarcrystall @little-dark-empress @rosalynshields @asianbuttcheek @dailythotdotcom @topstory21 @canny1902 @alexxcorona113 @what-inspirational-name @summer-may @abbyalee @littlefiercequeen @stardancerluv @oncemorewithfeelingg @sophiealiice e @snowxbarryxendgame @lilwickedred @jesseswartzwelder @princessdancingonthesunshine @irwxnhugsx @donutloverxo @cap-just-said-language @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho @heyarely16 @a—1—1—3 @harrysthiccthighss @memissbee

Hey, could I get a Buck Compton x female!reader? If your comfortable writing about the reader getting hurt at the same time Joe Toye loses his leg in the show? I don't want her to be killed but severely injured enough that she gets sent home, like she tries to help Joe instead of Bill. I know Buck gets sent home soon after Joe gets sent home too. It's just an idea, if your not comfortable writing something like this then please don't feel like you have to write this. Thanks in advance!!

Kesten’s the name, writing angst is the game, baby! Boutta throw on my sad Spotify playlist and GO TO TOWN! Sorry in advance (I’m not actually that sorry)

WARNING(S): near-death experience, blood, angst 

TAG LIST: @gottapenny @warmommy @scissorsfordoc @david-weepster@wexhappyxfew @curraheev @mayhem24-7forever @one-who-hunts-eagles @bandofmarvels @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @wildwilliamguarnere @higgles123 @those-dusty-jump-wings @medievalfangirl @maiden-of-gondor @whoabrekker @thefricklefracklesin @junojelli @bandofgays @itisjustmethistime @whatwouldidowithoutgeorgeluz @dumpofdumblings​ @inglourious-imagines @misspiggyfeels

So Cold

Just a few more steps; just a little further. You were almost there. Faltering slightly, you adjusted your grip on Joe Toye’s jacket, your grip slipping more and more with every backward step you took. 

Looking over your shoulder, you tuned out everything around yourself—the screaming, the explosions, the flying dirt and chunks of tree bark—and focused on his face; on those bright, blue eyes.

Buck’s mouth was moving a mile a minute, calling you toward him as he waved wildly, but you didn’t hear a thing. The ground shook beneath your feet with every mortar that crashed into the earth, and no matter how badly you wanted to run into his arms, you knew you had to get Joe to safety. 

Fear evident in his eyes, Buck finally bit the bullet, or so to speak, and jumped out of the safety of the foxhole. He started towards you, his steps confident and deliberate as he moved through the chaos of the forest. 

You smiled when you saw him coming to help you. Just a few more steps, just a little further and he would be beside you. One second he was there, right in front of you, and the next thing you knew, your vision went black and you weren’t sure if you had closed your eyes or if it was the world that had suddenly gone dark.

There was a high-pitched, constant ringing in your ears; that was the first thing you noticed. The next thing you noticed was how much your body ached, all over, non-stop. When you finally opened your eyes again—or when light finally returned to the world—you were staring up at the sky and the canopy of treetops above you. 

You drew in a sudden, sharp breath of the cold air. It hurt. It hurt like hell.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there for. Maybe it was only a few seconds. Maybe it was a few hours. You had no concept of time. The only thing you were paying attention to was the sky and your laboured breathing. The air stung your lungs more and more with every breath, but still, you inhaled and exhaled, over and over again, determined to keep living.

This was not the end. Not for you.

As the ringing in your ears slowly and gradually subsided, you began to hear the explosions again, and filling the silence between the mortar blasts was screaming. Some of the screaming was far away, echoing through the forest, and some was closer.

You could hear Buck screaming, calling out your name again and again. His voice was hoarse and desperate, the words ripping through his throat. You pictured tears welling in his beautiful blue eyes and felt your entire body ache even more than it already was.

Mustering every last ounce of strength you had left in your body, you flipped yourself over onto your stomach and clawed at the snow. Your fingernails broke and your fingertips bled as you dragged yourself back along the ground toward the foxhole, the gashes and tears in your flesh leaving a horrific blood smear behind yourself. 

“I’m okay.” you gasped out, more for Buck than for yourself. “I’m okay.”

The second the German mortar attack stopped, Buck scurried over to you and lifted you into his arms. You let out an agonizing yelp in the process, but there was nowhere else in the world that you would rather be. “Y/N!” Buck collapsed to his knees, still holding you. His eyes trailed over your body and the many wounds you had sustained, the only saving grace being that all of your limbs were still intact. 

With Joe’s screams calling the rest of the company over, Eugene was there in seconds, tending to the man who was now missing the lower half of his right leg. His screams were bone-chilling and each one shattered your heart more than the last. You knew you could have saved him; you knew you should have saved him.

Overwhelmed with the situation and your adrenaline beginning to wear off, you began to hyperventilate. “I lied,” you gasped for air. “I’m not okay . . . I can’t breathe . . . I’m not okay.”

Buck wrapped his arms around you as tightly as he could without hurting you more and buried his head into your neck. “You’re gonna be just fine,” he demanded more than assured. “Nothing is gonna happen to you! You’re gonna be just fine!”

“Buck . . .” you exhaled. Your mind was too foggy to think of any more to say to him. You just wanted him to look at you. If you were going to die, you wanted those blue eyes that you had fallen in love with to be the last thing you saw.

“You’re gonna be just fine.” he pressed his tear-soaked lips to your chapped ones. When Buck opened his eyes again, yours were closed and they didn’t open again.

Fearing the worst, Buck began to shake you violently in his arms, crying out for you to wake up. When the medics arrived and loaded your body onto a stretcher, Buck refused to let go of your hand for the longest while, and when your fingertips finally brushed out of his grasp, he stayed there in the snow for hours on end. He didn’t move, he didn’t blink, he didn’t talk. 

He just sat there, staring at the red-tinted snow that you had left behind. For all he knew, that was all that was left of you; the chilling scene of your desperate escape from death. 

Reaching down, he grazed his fingers against the red snow. It was cold. Everything was so cold.

                            ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Coming to, you felt as though you were waking up after the explosion all over again. Were you dead? Was this hell? Were you destined to wake up in the aftermath of the incident over and over again, forever?

Then you decided that there was no way you could be dead because your entire body still hurt, and from everything you had been led to believe, there was no pain in the afterlife. You weren’t sure if that was true or not, or really if there even was an afterlife, but at that moment, it brought you some form of comfort.

When you finally gathered enough bravery to open your eyes, you were beyond thankful to not see the sky above you. Instead, it was a plain, boring ceiling, and never in your life had you been happier to see such a mundane object.

You cracked a hint of a smile. 

In an attempt to sit up and take in your surroundings, your arms gave out almost instantly, and the sound of your whimpering and crashing back down onto the cot alerted a nearby nurse. 

“Oh, don’t try and move by yourself.” the kind-looking woman rushed over and propped up some pillows behind your back before she helped you sit up. “Here.” she smiled. 

“T-thanks.” your voice was raspy and your throat stung when you spoke. 

Reaching for a cup of water, the nurse handed it over and encouraged you to drink. You did as you were told. “Thanks.” you tried again, this time having much more success with the simple word. 

“You’re welcome.” the nurse smiled again. “How are you feeling?”

You thought for a moment and took the time to look yourself over, your skin covered in patched-up wounds and dried blood. “I’m okay,” you answered. “I think.”

“That’s good. He’ll be glad to hear that.” the nurse gestured to the cot on the other side of you. “He’s been watching over you and asking about how you’re doing every day. He really cares about you.”

Craning your neck to the side, you felt your heart well at the sight of the man in the cot beside you. Lying on his side, facing you, Buck was fast asleep. 

“I’m surprised he’s asleep,” the nurse said. “Poor guy’s barely slept or eaten since he got here a few days after you did. I’m assuming you know him, yes?”

“Yes.” you nodded. “Yes, I know him.”

Taking the empty cup from your hands, the nurse turned and started for another patient. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you woke him.”

Scooting to the edge of your cot, you carefully reached out and took the hand that Buck had hanging off of his cot in yours. “Buck,” you whispered, and immediately, his eyes shot open.

It took the large, blonde man a few seconds to realize that what he was seeing was real and not a dream, and when he did, he smiled wide and his hand clamped around yours hard. “You’re alive.” he breathed out. You nodded. “You’re also cold.” he looked down at your hand in his. “So cold.”

“But I’m alive.” you smiled as you stared into his blue eyes, happy that they were the last thing you saw before closing your own, but even happier that they were one of the first things you saw after opening them again.

“But you’re alive.” he reached across with his other hand, grabbed ahold of the edge of your cot, and slowly and carefully pulled it right beside his. Then, he kissed you. 

“I missed you,” you told him, gently placing your palm onto his cheek.

“I missed you more.” Buck pushed into the touch, having craved it for so long. “I’m never letting go of you ever again.”

You smiled. “I don’t want you to.”

Three Soldiers and a Baby | Epilogue

summary: Three handsome bachelors find their day to day operations disrupted when an unexpected new roommate (who comes complete with a diaper and a pacifier) shows up at their doorstep. How will they deal with this new and baffling responsibility without losing their minds or killing each other in the process?

pairings: Bucky x Reader featuring Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson

warnings: all the fluff!

a/n: Here we have it! The epilogue to the series so it’s the official final post! I hope you’ve all enjoyed the journey of this series and like the way I wrapped things up. I love this series and it will always have a special place in my heart, but it is time for it to come to an end. Trust me, if I could, I would continue writing this forever, but its just not possible right now. I do have something up my sleeves, though, so read till the end to find out!

*warning to mobile users, the “keep reading” tab may not work so apologies in advance*

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Epilogue |

| previously |

“I can retire.” Bucky said as if it was the easiest choice in the world. “The world has enough superheroes now. What’s one less?”

“Bucky, I can’t ask you to do that.” You tried reasoning with him. Even looking over to Steve and Sam, but they both just smiled.

“You’re not asking me, babe. I’m saying it.” Bucky cradled your face in his hands, pulling your lips to his and finally kissing you with all the passion he could find. You felt your knees give way and Bucky wrapped his arm behind your back to keep you from falling. He pulled you up, breaking away for air and resting his forehead against yours. Your heaving breaths mingled together and you finally felt that bliss you had once known come back into your heart. “The most important thing in my life is making sure that little girl is safe and taken care of. And you. I need you both in my life more than anything. Please. Please stay.”

You smiled as more irritating, yet happy, tears scrolled down your cheeks. Relishing in the feel of Bucky’s soft lips kissing the trails away. “Of course, we’ll stay.”

Over the next few months, you and Bucky had made the move from his apartment with the boys to somewhere out in the country. Just like Pepper and Tony had done for their family. The cabin was small, but spacious enough for the three of you to grow and build upon. Bucky enjoyed being able to go out into the woods and cut lumber for warmth and you enjoyed watching him do it. Meanwhile, Ellie enjoyed taking her first swim in a nearby clean water lake.

The Avengers had announced to the world that the Winter Soldier would be retiring from his role on the team, but nothing more was mentioned. Like Bucky had promised, he was there for you and your daughter every step of the way. Ellie’s teeth were still sprouting and she was getting more talkative with each passing day. When she finally said her first word, he was even there to record it and send it to everyone he knew. It was Bear. At first neither of you knew from where it came from, but when Ellie cuddled into her favorite Bucky Bear, you both smiled proudly. The next logical thing to do, as far as you were concerned, was to adopt a dog and name him Bear, so you did. He was a retriever mix puppy Steve had found for them with a dark long coat that had instantly became Ellie’s new best friend. Second to Morgan, of course, who loved that she wasn’t the only little girl in the family anymore. She finally had someone to play with. 

Ellie’s second word was Daddy. It wasn’t exactly surprising since Bucky had been drilling it into her head for months while he was trying to teach her how to speak. You didn’t mind that “Mommy” was her third word since it gave Bucky so much joy and awe watching her grow and learn. Bucky was there for her when she started walking. Amazed to witness her first tiny steps without falling on her bum and giggling wildly when her father picked her up and swung her in the air. After that life got a little more chaotic just trying to keep up with the boisterous little girl who took much after her father. 

It was Ellie’s first birthday and Bucky was the one who suggested having a large party for her. After all, it was only her first birthday once and that’s a big milestone. You had a feeling Bucky would be saying that for her birthday every year. He doted on her more than ever, not in the materialistic ‘buying her everything’ sense, but in the ‘I need to spend every waking moment making sure my baby girl is happy’ kind of sense. She was, of course.

The guests would be arriving soon so while Steve and Sam helped to set up the decorations, you and Bucky tasked yourselves with making Ellie’s birthday cake. You baked it while Bucky spent most of his time grabbing your ass and frisking you any chance he got. When you were done, Bucky was the one who volunteered to decorate it and once he told you his plan for the cake, it was all you could do from jumping the man’s bones and having your way with him right there in the kitchen. 

When everyone was finally there, the festivities began in full force. 

“Hey Barnes, you forget how to spell or were you just being lazy?” Sam had his arm wrapped around his girlfriend’s shoulder. He had introduced her to everyone a few weeks ago and even Bucky was happy for his crazy friend. 

“Why would you say that?” Bucky inspected his cake decorating skills which he thought helped create a masterpiece.

“Why does it just say, “Happy Birthday L.E.” Even Steve was curious about Bucky’s reasoning behind that one.

“Well, the way I figure, her name is Ellie which sounds like the two letters L and E so I figured it was perfect.” Bucky looked to you smiling in his arms as you rested Ellie on your other hip. Then he reached for his daughter and gave her a kiss on the forehead before saying proudly, “She’s my L.E. My Limited Edition.”

He had told you that earlier and you couldn’t help but swoon at the man’s dorkiness. It was absolutely too cute. 

“Did you just make your first dad joke, Buck?” Steve felt his heart warm at the picture perfect scene the three of you created. “I love it, man.”

Sam chortled, shaking his head from side to side. “I am both disgusted and somewhat amused.”

Ellie giggled for no apparent reason other than being happy that she was between her mother and father who loved her so much. Bucked beamed at her. “At least she thinks I’m funny.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. She probably just messed her diaper.” 

“Nope. She’s perfect.” Bucky Barnes had finally found peace.

Months later, Ellie was still growing like a sprout and yours and Bucky’s relationship continue did the same. One night, the three of you decided to have a nice relaxing moment outside on your porch swing as the sun set. Wanting nothing more than to enjoy these moments together and be grateful for the family you two had created. Bucky often professed his love to you during these times and it always made your stomach fill with butterflies when he would look at you after saying those words. It was the words he said next that made your heart drop into your stomach.

“Will you marry me?”

Tears of overwhelming joy poured down your cheeks, but Bucky was there to catch them with the pad of his thumb and kiss them away. Ellie was asleep in your arms so you couldn’t jump and scream like you wanted to so you just muttered a sobbing yes against his lips. It was the perfect moment and you didn’t want to ruin it, but instead, make it that much more memorable. Now was the time to tell him.

“Bucky, I’m pregnant. With twins.”

Stay tuned for my next series...Three Babies and a Soldier! ❤

Feedback is always appreciated, leave it here!

part fourteen << epilogue ||

Series Masterlist

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I have an ask. This ask serves as a request to hear about whatever idea you might have that you're waiting to find an excuse to talk about. Send this ask on to other writers. Let the ideas run free!

It’san all-out battle between the First Order and the Resistance. Both sides areexhausted but the red grassy plain that they’re fighting on hides the amount ofblood spilled in this battle alone.

SupremeLeader Ren is leading their forces from the front whilst his Grand Marshalflanks him, taking down any approaching foe with his twin blasters, firingrapidly at Resistance fighters who dare come near his beloved Kylo Ren. Theydefend each other, fighting back-to-back, ensuring that, whatever the outcomeof the battle, they’ll be together.

Thebattle rages on, Kylo is challenged by Rey who now wields a double-bladed greenlightsaber. Hux is distracted by Kylo’s fight and calls out to him as FN-2187is approaching from the rear with a blue lightsaber of his own, wanting to warnKylo about the danger but as a result, his own guard is dropped and aResistance fighter takes the shot. The kill shot.

Kylowhirls around just in time to block Finn’s attack but feels Hux’s pain throughthe Force, feels the very moment that his life force is severed. Kylo screams,sending a blast of wind outwards, knocking Rey and Finn on their backs andgiving Kylo enough time to run over to where Hux has fallen.

It’stoo late. Hux is already struggling, unable to stand, chest bleeding. Kylo begshim to hold on but Hux shakes his head, breathing in heavy but shallow gasps ashe tries to get words to come out.

“Deck39-X,” Hux chokes, staring into Kylo’s eyes as though trying to project ontohim. He struggles to pull his dog tags from around his neck but Kylo helps him,holding them in his palm. “Go. F-find–”

Kylosobs, burying his face in Hux’s shoulder as the remaining stormtroopers chargepast them to form a protective line to shield them from the Resistance, givingtheir all for their fallen Grand Marshal. Kylo screams to the heavens to giveHux back to him, that he’ll do anything; give up his power, take Hux’s place,anything. But there’s no answer, just the fading gunfire of the retreatingResistance fighters and the victorious stormtroopers.

Kyloholds onto Hux until the troopers come to him and recommend that they leave,that the Grand Marshal be prepped to be laid to rest. Kylo knows that he can’thold onto his lost lover forever to he eventually lets go, cradling Hux’s dogtags close to his chest as Hux’s body is gently ushered onto the shuttle.

It’sdays after Hux’s funeral that Kylo remembers Hux’s last words. Deck 39-X. Go,find. Another enigma of Armitage Hux, Kylo thinks. The Finalizer has no Deck39-X. Still, he walks anyway, long cape swishing behind him. Troopers andofficers alike bow to him as they pass him, and he’s almost overwhelmed bytheir feelings of grief.

Uponhis second lap of the lower decks, something catches Kylo’s eyes. Between decks39 and 40, there’s an anomaly on the wall panel, just before the turbolift atthe end of Deck 39, and it’s the exact shape of Hux’s dog tag. Kylo slots it inand the entire panel opens, revealing an extra, hidden hallway with light atthe end and chatter coming from it.

Kylolooks around before entering, making sure no one is around, and steps into thesecret passageway, finding that the door–wall–slides silently shut behind himjust as he’s through. Curious. He pads down the hallway slowly, fingerstwitching in preparation to grab his lightsaber should he need it but all wordsand thoughts fall away when he gets to the secret room.

Theroom is similar to that of the medbay; white and sterile. A few medics anddroids bustle around but it’s mostly silent, save for the sound of breathingapparatus.

Inthe centre of the room is a bacta tank–a stasis chamber–and suspended in thetank’s transparent liquid, looking like a sleeping angel, is Armitage Hux.

Kylois rooted to the ground, unable to move, eventually finding strength to staggerforwards but falls to his knees in front of the tank, reaching up to put hisgloved palm on the glass, wishing he could feel him–

Wiresare attached to Hux’s body, a pair of black shorts cover his modesty and a maskis secured over his mouth and nose. His pale eyelashes grace the tops of hischeeks, his red hair floats around his head like a halo. Kylo is speechless.

“SupremeLeader,” one of the medics greets. “We were beginning to wonder whether you’dshow up. Please, if you’d like to follow me, there’s something you must see.”

Kylodoesn’t want to leave Hux’s side but he does, standing on trembling legs tofollow the medic into a back room where there’s a monitor and chair. The medicgestures for Kylo to sit and he does, and the screen brightens to show animagine of Hux, pristine and handsome in his Grand Marshal’s uniform, but hiseyes are sad.

“Mydearest Kylo Ren,” the Hux on the screen says. “If you are watching this videothen I am dead. My condolences, I suppose. But I do hope you aren’t wastingtime grieving over me when your attention should be on annihilating theResistance and raising the First Order to complete dominance.”

Kylosmiles, letting his tears fall.

“Alas.I am sorry that our time together has been cut short. But I must answer yourquestions. My passing is something that has always troubled me since I was very young. Leaving toosoon before my–our–work was complete. Deck 39-X is the facility I build inorder to solve my issue. What you’ve just seen is not my original body but aclone of myself, grown from fetus to adolescent to the young man.Though we attempted to speed the growing process along, my clone is a number ofyears behind me. At the recording of this video, my clone sits at 20 years oldwhilst I, myself, am 45.”

Kylopauses. He thought the other Hux looked a little younger; brighter hair, stillsoft around the middle and yet to be defined. With there only being 5 yearsbetween Hux and himself, Kylo feels a little daunted at there now being such alarge gap between himself and the clone.

“Ihave tried my best to upload my memories to his conscious so that, upon hiswaking, he will be an exact copy of me not only in physicality but in cognitionand in memory too. This process is still fairly new so I am unsure of how muchmy clone will know of my past and my present.”

“So, mytime here has come to an end. But Kylo. Oh, my beloved Ren. Know that I’venever been happier as when I was with you. I hoped we’d even marrysomeday, perhaps when we’d brought order to the galaxy. Take care of yourself,my darling. I don’t want to see you again too soon. I love you more than the stars themselves. Goodbye, Ren. Or rather,hello. My clone is waiting to meet you. Love him like you loved me and you& him will be kings forever. Farewell.”

Thevideo cuts off, leaving Kylo in the darkness. He turns around, looking to wherethe bacta tank sits in the adjoining room and hesitates in standing up. Hedoesn’t want a clone, he wants the real thing. He wants his greying GrandMarshal back, not a young Lieutenant who possibly won’t know who he is.

Themedic comes back in and informs Kylo that their subject has been taken out ofthe tank and is being woken slowly. Only when he wakes will they know if Hux’smemories have taken or whether the clone is a blank slate.

Kylostands in the clone’s room, lurking in the dark corner, watching him sleep,analysing every one of his smooth features and compares it to HIS Hux. He can’thelp but feel unnerved by all of this; this clone is not his beautiful lover.

Theclone wakes up eventually and his vitals are assessed by the medics and droidsand deemed as fit and healthy to come out of stasis. They ask him if he knowswho the man in the corner is.

Theclone hesitates.

“No,”Armitage says, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen him before.”

Kylo’sworld crashes down for the second time that week.

Theclone only has Hux’s memories from his childhood; the most recent ones of Hux’shaven’t taken, leaving the last 20 years of Hux’s life out of the clone’s mind. The clone knows nothing of Kylo Ren; who is he, why he’s here,why he stares at him like he’s the most precious thing in the galaxy. It breaks Kylo’s heart but he won’t walk away, he won’t lose Hux again,not again.

CueKylo trying to befriend Armitage all over again, trying to help him rediscoverhimself whilst trying not to let his own feelings get in the way of Armitage’sdevelopment into the fierce strategist he was before he was killed.

YoungArmitage is almost cold towards Kylo but Kylo doesn’t blame him; Armitage’smost recent memories are graduating the Acadmey and becoming the youngestGeneral in Galactic history by stepping over the dead bodies of his peers. He’s yetto be warmed by the love of Kylo Ren, a relationship that only began afterSnoke’s death when Hux was 35.

TheFirst Order needs their Grand Marshal to win the war, but Kylo Ren needs his lover.It’s a battle between head and heart for Kylo; does he take a step back andallow Armitage to flourish as he once did, rising from General to GrandMarshal, a cold machine with a hard exterior, or does he nurture and loveArmitage and distract him from his destiny and possibly lose the war becausehe’s too busy trying to get young Armitage to fall in love with him again? Isit possible to do both?

Staytuned for the fic that I’ll never write.

War of Hearts : Alpha!Roman Reigns x Reader x Future Alpha!Braun Strowman Part 1/?

A/N: Ok so this is a series I’ve been working on. 1. Because I love Braun Strowman and Roman Riegns and 2. I love the whole werewolf AU. And 3 I’m a sucker for soulmate AUs😫😫It’s my first time ever writing something like this so please be gentle. I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea ☕️ Tagging my babes because they continue to inspire me and encourage me. I love you guys 🖤🖤 Pairings: Alpha!Roman Reigns x Reader ; Future Alpha!Braun Strowman x Omega!Reader Warnings: Cursing maybe? Angstish (like internally, it’s a love triangle people), Fluff, A/B/O dynamics Summary: Becoming a women’s wrestler is never easy, especially as an Omega. Finding love is even harder. Will you find love in one or will fate throw you to the wolves? Follow this story as the reader goes into battle in a “War of Hearts”.

“I can’t help but be wrong in the dark ‘Cause I’m overcome in this war of hearts”

Being an omega was never easy but thanks to my family and Grade A suppressants I managed it. It was extremely hard because on top of all that I was a pro wrestler trying to make my way up the ranks without the help of my superstar big brother Daniel Bryan or The Bella’s who were practically my sisters.

“So, what’s it like?” Nikki asked.

“Being on suppressants? I don’t know. Ok… so you know how during your heat all you want is the ’D’ but the only thing that can quell it is a knot?”

“Yeah…”

“Well the suppressants help it so that all I need is the ’D’ and it can be attached to some nice little Beta and not some asshole Alpha. It also helps me not be a slave to my own body. Just because I’m an omega, doesn’t mean I need an Alpha to function.”

“Of course, not Babe. You’re a strong independent omega!”

“Nik not so loud, would ya? Most people still think I’m a Beta and I’d like to keep that way.”

“Why hun you should be proud of who and what you are. “I couldn’t help but sigh at her comment.

"I am, Nik. It’s not how I feel about it. It’s how

others perceive me when they find out that bothers me. Alphas only want me hanging off their knots and Betas look down at me as if that is all I want as well.” I replied somberly.

“Hey (Y/N). I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that I promise.”

“I know you didn’t Nikki. Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“What’s it like to find your true mate. Like with you and John. What was that whole experience like?”

“Gosh girl, I don’t think there are enough hours in the day to explain what it felt like but I’ll try my best.” She giggles before turning serious. “You know how everyone has their own scent and some are more appealing than others?”

“Yes, but with my suppressants a lot of other people’s scent have been dulled to me.”

“Really?” she paused for a split second shaking her head “I mean, as I was saying when you finally meet your true mate, or at least when I met John he smelt otherworldly. The first whiff had my wolf screaming, girl. She kept repeating things like mate, and home, and mine. The scent itself smelt like pinewoods and musk. Man, just thinking about it… whoo.” She had to stop and fan herself at the thought of her own true mate.

“Nikki!” I squealed.

“Sorry, hun. I can’t help it. Anyways that’s just the smell. When we touched, my body was set ablaze. Like first heat times 100.” I shuddered at the thought.

Every omega’s first heat is the cruelest. I was lucky enough to be in the comfort of my own home with suppressants on standby. While my family always thought I’d present as an omega, I was kind of a late bloomer.

“(Y/N/N) did you hear what I said?”

I sheepishly looked down shaking my head mouthing an 'I’m sorry’.

“What I was saying is that you also go into an instant heat and your mate goes into an instant rut to push the mating process. And if you don’t couple you’ll be in the most excruciating pain you’ve ever been in. Just driving to the hotel was a feat for me and John. What’s made you so curious about this all the sudden?”

“I don’t honestly know. I just know I’m getting older and still haven’t found my mate. Part of me wonders if the whole true mate thing is even real. Or maybe I just don’t have one you know?”

Nikki was having none of that. She practically lunged from her spot on the couch to pummel me in a big hug, scent marking me in a comforting manner. Omega instincts at its finest.

“He’s out there Babydoll. I just know it. And besides today’s a day of celebration remember? Your Raw debut is tomorrow and me, Brie, and Daniel couldn’t be prouder. You’ve worked so hard on your own, taking absolutely no hand outs and you’re finally here. So, no time for being sad. We have take- out on the way to the house as well as Brie and Daniel. Then we’re going to watch your favorite movie while we eat ice cream, standard pre-match ritual.”

I couldn’t help but smile because ever since I could remember, whether it be my brother or one of the Bella’s, they always spent a movie night in with me before one of our big matches. Now here was one of my biggest matches to date and all three of them were going to celebrate it with me. I love my little pack and couldn’t ask for a better family.

To my surprise even John Cena, Nikki’s Alpha, came to support our pack tradition. He really was a great addition and the love I saw between the two always inspired me and gave me hope that one day I would find a worthy Alpha.

The night went off without a hitch and even ended up with all of us in a puppy pile in the middle of the floor surrounded by pillows and blankets.

The one omega trait I could never seem to shake, even as a pup, was cuddling or puppy piling when I could convince the pack.  I guess that’s why my parents thought I’d present as an Omega eventually. Most days I was either cuddled between one of the couples or koala beared on the back of one of my pack mates. It was just one of those quirks I was known for. I mean I’m the baby of the pack, what did they expect? This also earned me my nickname Babydoll which most people even outside my pack would called me. Hell, even Stephanie McMahon referred to me as Babydoll. It also didn’t help that that was also my in-ring persona. And while most people’s in ring personas were a complete 180 to real life. I was just me and I love it that way.

The morning of my debut was spent at the gym for a light training session with my big brother, making sure I had all my submission moves down to the letter. I even made him genuinely tap out a few times, which had my confidence through the roof.

The rest of the morning was spent getting coffee and getting to the performance arena in a timely manner. Being a newbie meant having to get there early so that Steph could give me a quick rundown of how tonight was going to go. I was thrilled when they told me, my match was going to be a tag team match with Sasha and I versus Charlotte and Dana. And to top it off I was slated to pin Charlotte in a submission move, my brother’s yes lock, for the win. To say I was nervous was an understatement.

After the rundown with Steph and the pleasantries exchanges with the girls I was carded off to The Bella’s dressing room for hair and makeup.

Being the baby of the pack had its perks, I was spoiled beyond belief. The girls’ excuses were always 'for my protection’. And to some extent I would agree. Being submerged into a new environment where pack dynamics are almost nonexistent, it’s hard to find your place. To top it off my sense of smell is not as sharp as it should be so I wasn’t able to sniff out the good from the bad.

So, I was totally fine with being sequestered to the Bella’s locker room it was safe and I felt protected there.

“Knock, Knock. Can I come in?” It was Sasha.

“Of course, girl. I just finished putting on the final touches to my makeup. How do I look?”

Sasha was one of the few people I knew from the main roster. We spent a lot of time together during developmental. During my time there we were practically attached at the hip. We were so close in fact, she knew my true presentation.

Sasha was a beta with an Alpha complex, basically she was chill until someone tried to mess with her friends because then all bets were off. I cherished our friendship and I missed her dearly when she was moved up the main roster. But now here we were together again and on the same brand!

The next thing I knew Sasha was suffocating me in a bone crushing hug. As I hugged her back with as much enthusiasm, a foreign smell hit my senses prompting me to ask, “Sash what is that smell? Are you wearing a new perfume?”

She looked at me strangely, “ No…. Why?”

“I’m not sure I just got a whiff of something, is all.”

“What do you mean? I thought you said your suppressants dull your sense of smell.”

“They do that’s why I was wondering. But never mind. I can’t believe I’m here! I finally made it! And I get my best friend back!”

“Oh, Babydoll you never lost me, you know that.” She said rubbing my back.

“Yea but this is different. I’m seeing you in the flesh. And now we get to hang out just like old times.”

Sasha and I spent our time catching each other up on certain things we missed in each other’s lives, everything from matches to romantic rendezvous.

“I can’t believe you actually went out with him (Y/N)! What happened to your rule of no Alphas unless he’s the Alpha!”

“Hey, I don’t regret it. Roman is amazing and besides I gained an amazing friend because of it!”

Even though I had a thing about staying away from most Alphas, something about Roman drew me in. Roman and I had been on a few dates together and he was an amazing kisser to say the least but we both realized really early on that we were just meant to be friends, almost like platonic soulmates. Even though I was losing hope on the whole true mate Alpha thing, I still didn’t want to give myself over to someone who wasn’t my Alpha. Both of us were so in tuned to one another it was crazy that we weren’t true mates. Best parts about Roman though was the fact that he was a great cuddle buddy and more often than not he would scent mark me so other asshole Alphas would stay away.

“I don’t care what you say I still ship it.”

I couldn’t help but stick my tongue out at my best friend more than anything, I was just glad to have her back.

“Okay, so if not Roman. I should ask. Do you still have that school girl crush on Braun?”

“OMG Sasha!” I shoved at her shoulder. I can’t believe she brought up the “Braun” thing.

“Ok first of all Sash it wasn’t a school girl crush. I merely wondered who he was. He’s the 'Monster among men’. Can you blame me?”

I had seen Braun once in my life but have never even spoken to him, while I have seen his matches and think he’s an amazing athlete. I’ve never even spoken two words to him.

I was in the states from a stint in Japan and I had promised Sasha I would visit. I was trying to hone my craft across seas while my best friend was training in the new NXT performance center of WWE. I was so proud of her and missed her like crazy so I stopped in Florida before going home to Arizona where I had stayed part time in with my brother, Bryan and his amazing wife Brie, in their new home. Even Josie their French Bulldog was one of my favorites.

 That experience at the performance center was otherworldly, not because of “Braun” but just because it motivated me even more to make it to WWE. It was also the first time I met my Samoan superman of a best friend.

As I was kicking Sasha’s butt around the ring and trying to help hone her new submission move, the Banks Statement, I was also showing her possible opponent counters. What can I say I had made a name for myself as a submission specialist and grappler, having learned from all over the world. So, as I have her in a counter of a modified version of the black widow. Mind you I’m upside down. I see this amazing hulk of a man walking in and I nearly lose my breath. It wasn’t the size or stature, he didn’t hold himself menacingly. In fact, he looked quite sweet. His scent is what had me breathless, he must have felt me staring cause as he walked by us, we made eye contact. My heart nearly stopped right then and there. I immediately released my best friend not wanting to be seen in such a graceless state.

I couldn’t be more thankful for my scent blockers because damn did he scream Alpha. The fact that I could smell him was saying something.

Breaking eye contact I turn to make sure I didn’t pull back Sasha’s arm too bad.

“Hey girl you ok?”

“Yeah but what happened? You stopped before I could counter.”

I couldn’t help it when my eyes cut to Braun only for him to be looking back at me unashamed smiling sweetly instead of a typical douche smirk most men in general throw my way.

Blushing immediately I break eye contact but not before I see a damn smirk come into view and damn it if I didn’t actually like it.

Sasha caught the whole interaction even shaking her head at Braun who simply answered with a shrug.

“Babydoll, is there something you want to ask me?” Sasha asked fluttering her eyelashes in quick succession.

“Who’s that?” I muttered knowing full well she heard me.

“I’m sorry but you’re going to have to speak up, Baby.”

“You know what let’s forget it we have work to do my flight is tonight so I’m limited on time. Plus, I’m not gonna worry myself about someone I may never see again anyways.” I huffed trying to get back to sparring.

“Ok miss priss but his name is Braun Strowman and he a nice gentlemanly southern Alpha. But he’s with that bleach blonde over there starring daggers at your head. Her names Dana and she is one bitchy Beta with an omega complex.”

That explained a lot. While most betas took on a slight Alpha complex there were some, mainly women, who would take sort of an omega complex to seem more appealing to Alphas. Why? I had no idea, being an omega sucked sometimes, it’s why I take military grade suppressants.

“Like I said no time to worry about anyone but myself.”

And that’s how that conversation ended as you and Sasha started to spar again going back and forth between submissions and counters.

All the while a hulking Alpha looking on majorly impressed. And a bitchy blonde seething.

“Okay. Okay. Whatever you say. But! There is something I never got to tell you about that day.”

“What’s that?”

“After you left he came up to me and asked about you.”

Fighting my blush like my life depended on it I scoffed and said, “So what?”

“It’s so cute how you think you can fool me, you know that? Anyways…. he had asked me if you were an omega.”

My heart stopped upon hearing that. No one absolute no one should be able to sniff me out as an omega…. well except for my true mate….

I shook myself out of such dangerous thoughts.

“Sash how are you so relaxed about that and are now just telling me. You know there is no way in hell he should have been able to scent my placement.”

I look to my best friend trying to find some sense of understanding and then I see her light bulb go off.

“Omg! I never even thought of that (Y/N)! Omg stupid beta brain.”

“Wait so what did you say?” I asked panicked.

“I told him no that you were a Beta but he never did look quite convinced when I said that, come to think of it.”

“Sash what else, what else did he want to know?” I urged my best friend to talk faster.

“Nothing just who you were and where you were from, in fact he seemed real interested about you until Dana came sniffing around. I swear that girl needs a reality check.”

“I’m kinda freaking out here girl…. you don’t think…. this whole true mate thing is true, do you?”

“You’re seriously asking ME that?”

“I’m sorry I just …. idk I’m just really on the verge of a mental breakdown.”

A knock at the door broke me from my hysterics.

“Who’s that?!”

“Calm down girl, it’s probably just Roman. He asked where we were and I told him.”

As if he could fell my panic and was Superman to the rescue. I immediately felt a hundred times better even with the whole looming true mate business. Something about Roman just soothes my soul to its core. Before Sasha could get the door open I was bum rushing my Samoan Superman.

“Roman!” I squealed.

Pummeling into one of his bear hugs I totally took advantage, arms around the neck and legs around the waist practically gluing myself to his essence.

He just chuckled into the scent gland on my neck, expecting nothing less from me, kissing it before mumbling a quiet, “Hey Babygirl.” And I shivered at his touch.

“Ugh you guys need to get a room you’re disgusting.” Came from behind him the one and only Nikki Bella.

“Aww Nik why can’t I just borrow yours.”

“Eww no way I don’t want all of that rubbing up on all my shit.” She grimaced.

“Not all of it Nik. Just the couch, maybe the table right Roman?” I look up beaming with mischief as I stare into his beautiful gray eyes. Eyes that could calm any storm brewing within me.

“Behave, Babygirl.” He laughed swatting my butt in a reprimanding nature.

“Again eww.”

“Okay Nikki we get it but let the girl live she hasn’t seen him in months and tonight’s her debut.” Brie, always the voice of reason.

Roman walked us over to the awaiting couch, keeping me koala-beared to him, as the girls and Bryan all settled into the dressing room.

Making sure to cuddle as close to my Samoan teddy bear as possible I look to the twins and ask, “So how much longer until we need to head down to the gorilla?”

“They said they’d come and get us but I would say about 20-30 minutes.” Brie answered.

“Dang it and I just got comfortable.” I pouted towards Roman.

“No pouting baby girl.” He flicked my bottom lip, “You need to get up and get warm.”

Tucking into his neck further I mumbled, “But I am warm.”

“You know what I mean” he rumbled.

“Get that booty up and let’s get to stretching.” Nikki came and landed a swift smack on my butt for emphasis on her way out the doors with the others.

Relenting I looked towards Roman, “Scent me for good luck?”

“Of course, baby girl but wait til we get to gorilla okay?”

“Fine.” I pouted.

“Why are you in such a pouting mood babe? It’s your debut, you should be over the moon!”

“I am! I just missed you Ro and I don’t know I’m nervous as hell. Like I just want to curl up in a ball and demand that you hold me.”

“As appealing as that sounds… that’s gonna have to wait until later.” He replies leaving a lingering kiss to my temple.

“Love you,” he whispered as he pulled back.

“I love you too Superman.”

What no one knew about me and Roman was we were sort of more than just friends, while it never went past making out physically there was a deep and intense emotional bond. In fact, a couple years back I made a pact with him if I didn’t find my true mate by my Birthday of this year I would start a mate ship with him and eventually let him claim me as his omega.

It wasn’t an uncommon thing in our world many betas had mate ships with Alphas and many omegas took Alphas that were not considered their true mate.

Unfortunately, many of those omegas would find their true mate Years down the line and make things very complicated within pack dynamic. Trying to live without your true mate once you found them was like living without half of yourself. And that was a fate I’d hope to never face. While Roman was not my true mate I knew deep within my soul I could not live without him. Why, I may never know and with this whole Braun issue I was really scared that I would have to learn how to live without him sooner rather than later.

“Babygirl? You ok in there?” Roman asked, tapping me on my forehead for emphasis.

“Something on your mind?”

“Nothing just thinking. I’m scared.” I whimpered into his neck.

“Scared of what babe? The match? You’re gonna do great. It’s in your blood.” He reassured while rubbing my back.

“Not about that. About us…”

“What about us? We’re good and in six months we will be even better.”

“A lot can happen in six months! What if I find him and then I’ll lose you forever. I can’t lose you Ro. I know you’re not my true mate but we are connected on a soul level and I-I…” I couldn’t stop the tears that broke through that time.

“Shhh hey Babygirl. Listen to me I’m not going anywhere. Yes, a lot can happen in six months. But the one thing you will never have to worry about is losing me.” Gently he leaned down and started kissing my tears away making sure to leave one lasting and loving wet kiss on my lips.

“Promise?”

“Promise. I love you Babygirl, more than my own life.”

“I love you too Superman. To the moon and back.”

“Good now let’s go we can’t keep everyone waiting, now can we?”

“I suppose not.” I giggled into his chest. Before getting up and catching everyone near the gorilla I caught Roman by the scruff of his neck and kissed the breath out of him. I made sure to make it count because in my gut I knew it could be one of our lasts.

“Babygirl…” Roman panted, “What was that?”

“What was what?” I answered cheekily, giving one more quick kiss before rushing out to catch up with my friends and family but not before I heard Roman say, “You little minx. You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Good Time” Is a (Guilt) Trip

Remember the ads that said, “This is your brain. This is your brain on drugs”? I do not do drugs, but Good Time, by the Safdie brothers, calls the tagline to mind. Once I settled into my seat post-trailers and the lights went down, I wasn’t able to catch a breath for what felt like ten or fifteen minutes. One of the first frames places you in a tight close-up, trying to decode Nick (Benny Safdie) as he answers questions about figures of speech posed by an older gentleman whose motives are unclear. In storms Nick’s brother, Connie (Robert Pattinson); yelling ensues, the camera is jittery (or if it wasn’t, the scene’s energy is), somebody shouts, “Shame on you!” Connie, in a state of what seems to be panic, anger and fear, tells Nick, “It’s just you and me. I’m your friend.” There lies the soul of the movie, the core around which all of its neon-soaked moving parts orbit—Connie loves Nick; Connie is Nick’s protector. But is his love a threat?

It’s not a spoiler to reveal that the two rob a bank and Nick ends up in Rikers. The film follows Connie as he races to get Nick, who is mentally handicapped, out of jail. The quest takes Connie all over Queens and other boroughs, and the Safdie brothers coax a great performance out of New York, for me a grimy parallel to Michael Mann’s sleek, threatening Los Angeles in Collateral.

I thought this film was interesting in comparison to another summer release, Baby Driver. They are not necessarily of the same type, but both center around a young man racing against the clock to complete at least one criminal operation, and save a loved one in the process. Both films are also driven by music and flashy aesthetics that, if done poorly, can divorce the viewer from the movie’s story. Baby Driver, notably, had a complete lack of place—you could easily leave the film with no idea what city streets Baby was tearing up. This was done in part, I think, to emphasize the extent to which Baby constructs his own reality through music. He could be anyplace, because the tunes are driving his inner GPS more than external landmarks. Connie, on the other hand, is a product of his gritty Queens locale, and the Safdie brothers pull a neat trick with the character’s relationship to the city. Pattinson is charged up and pulsing with energy the second you see him on-screen, and the film is off to the races immediately, taking us through a tense bank robbery and a sprawling police chase within minutes. The streets and buildings of Queens feel overly bright, the air too taught, the music too loud, the darks too dark—what choice do we have but to latch onto Connie as we speed and at times slink through pawn shops and gypsy cabs and strangers’ hospital rooms. He’s Nick’s savior, isn’t he? He’s our hero, right?

Maybe not. As the film progressed, I started to realize that I really knew nothing about Connie besides the fact that he loves his brother, and his judgment leaves much to be desired. In one scene, Connie tells a new ally that in a past life he was a dog. He knows because they love him so much (it’s Chekhov’s dog). This was my first hint that Connie was a little off. Pattinson plays him with a touch of mania, a wildness in the eye that seems at first to be situational desperation, but later reveals itself to be an element of Connie’s personality. Connie isn’t stupid, but he makes stupid choices. He seems extremely empathetic, but is at times manipulative and brutal, and those attributes arise often during his interactions with people of color.

[SPOILERS AHEAD] Connie scams a West Indian woman into letting him stay at her house, then prays on her sixteen-year-old granddaughter (Pattinson is particularly brilliant in the seduction scene, during which I suddenly understood the ardent screams of his Twilight fans). He later beats a security guard, played by Barkhad Abdi (from Captain Phillips) to a bloody pulp. At first I thought the film was not going to acknowledge the trend of Connie leaving black people in his destructive wake, but then the Safdies slipped in a scene that convinced me of their awareness of the racial dynamics at work: Abdi’s character, tagged by the police as a criminal thanks to Connie’s quick thinking, is carted into an emergency vehicle, while the teenage girl (Taliah Webster, hilarious and real) is hauled off to the precinct. Both of Connie’s victims are placed in the frame as he regards them cooly, not about to disabuse the cops of their backwards assumptions about each character’s criminal intent.

Again, I thought of Baby Driver. There are scenes in that film when Ansel Elgort’s character confronts the cops, and the viewer knows that in reality his fate would be completely different if he were not white. That injustice does not seem to be within Baby Driver‘s purview, while Good Time is more willing to confront the facts, if not to offer comment on them. As I process the scene through writing, I come down on the film’s side. It would seem inauthentic to put too fine a point on the racism underscoring the police interactions detailed above, or even Connie’s choice of collateral damage, because Connie himself doesn’t care. He is single-minded in his pursuit of Nick’s freedom, with no room for reflection, so it is up to the viewer to grapple with the implications of rooting for him.

The Joyride - Part 2 (Jason Todd x Reader)

A/N: Part 2 to The Joyride! I’m really glad that you guys enjoyed part one so much! Here’s the ending to your cliffhanger, but no guarantees that there won’t be another!

Warnings: Angst, descriptions of injury

Tagging: @solis200213 @pinkwitch21 @tigeragathe @gokusanfan @just-a-girl-maybe @queen-of-all-the-fandoms @neverlandprincessjaz 

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four

Jason blinked in an attempt to dispel the blurriness that clouded his vision. He was lying in a hospital bed with an IV hooked into his arm. His head was pounding and he squinted at the bright lights above him. He grunted slightly and moved his unhindered wrist to shield his vision.

“You’re awake,” came the gravelly voice from beside him, which he identified as Bruce’s.

“Yeah,” he groaned hoarsely, turning his head to face Bruce. “What time is it?”

 “About five in the morning. It’s a Saturday. Why do you ask?” Bruce replied, maintaining his usual composure.

 Jason noted that it was still early the morning of the accident, meaning he hadn’t been out for too long. “(Y/N). Is she- I- Is she- How is she?”

Jason didn’t miss the darkness in Bruce’s eyes or the grimace that he attempted to hide. He felt a pit forming rapidly in his stomach and he shook his head, his eyes going wide. “She’s- She’s d- dead?”

 “Not dead,” Bruce corrected, and Jason let out a sigh of relief. “But it’s bad, Jason. She’s going into emergency surgery. I- I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”

 “Oh.”

 There was silence between the two after that. The occasional beeping of the machines, and the steady quiet buzz of the air conditioner were what kept the room from utter silence. It wasn’t for a few minutes until Bruce spoke again.

 “They say- They say you’re lucky to only have sustained a concussion and some bruising. Especially compared t-” Bruce cut himself off before he could finish. It wasn’t a statement Jason would appreciate.

Jason, however, didn’t need to hear the end of the sentence. He knew what the ending was. Especially compared to her. He shifted his head awkwardly against the stiff material of the hospital pillow to look away from Bruce.

“How did you find out so soon?” Jason asked, less out of interest in the answer and more out of a desire to fill the silence. To give himself less room to think.

 “They recognized (Y/N) as one of my wards, called me over here about an hour ago,” Bruce explained.

 “I see,” Jason replied shortly.

 Another painfully long moment of stiff and awkward silence came to pass.

 “I know you blame me for this but-”

 “I don’t.”

 “You- You don’t?” Jason asked, slightly surprised. He had been expecting Bruce to make this more difficult. To make him feel guiltier than he already did.

“No. But I know you blame yourself. And I don’t think that’s fair,” Bruce said, his tone even and his voice unfaltering.

“How would you know that it’s not my fault? How do you know this didn’t happen because of some irresponsible mistake that I made?” Jason inquired, still surprised at Bruce’s lack of vindictiveness. He turned his head back across the pillow to face the other man.

“How do I know? Because I know that you don’t make irresponsible mistakes when it comes to her. I know that when it comes to her you take precautions, and you’re more careful than I’ve ever seen you,” Bruce stated matter-of-factly 

Jason didn’t know how to respond to that. So he didn’t. And suddenly he understood why Bruce stayed silent when faced with difficult questions. Because sometimes there was no good way to answer. “What are her injuries like?” Jason asked, deflecting off onto another topic.

“Are you sure you want to know? It’s not pretty. I would understand if-”

“I want to know,” Jason cut him off firmly, steeling himself for what he was about to hear.

Bruce nodded, the expression on his face grim. “They said that there’s extensive internal bleeding in several locations and-” Bruce paused to let out a weak sigh. “The impact caused several broken ribs. One of which- One of which punctured a blood vessel. The lacerations she suffered were severe and some cut into the bone. One shoulder is dislocated and the opposite wrist is broken. She has shrapnel scattered throughout her legs. It’s not pretty.”

Jason’s mouth ran dry. He had imagined that your injuries would be bad, but this? This was more than he knew how to process. “I- All of that?”

Bruce nodded wordlessly. “Despite all of that,” he started slowly, “They say that she’s lucky. Her head, neck, and spine are all intact, aside from minor stress from impact on her spine.”

“Lucky,” Jason tried out the word for himself, and he felt a sense of bitterness as it rolled off his tongue. Lucky. He didn’t feel like you had been lucky. He felt like the hospital staff decided to call your condition lucky because they didn’t have the hearts to tell him that you were on the verge of death. All because the two of you had been bored and sleepless at an odd hour of the night. No. Lucky wasn’t right. Lucky wasn’t right at all.

You awoke abruptly with a tube down your throat and no idea where you were. Immediately you wanted to kick your arms and legs, but not only were you restrained, it hurt to move. Every inch of your body was in pain, and your muscles ached and your chest hurt with every movement 

You felt panic rising in your chest and you started to hyperventilate. You struggled against your restraints despite the fact that every single fiber of your being was screaming for you to stop. You wanted to cry out, but you couldn’t get your voice to work, and the breathing tube restricted you from any form of verbality. Despite your inability to call for help, before you knew it, there were people in pristine white clothing standing above you and gently holding you down.

You felt a sharp and searing pain rip through your abdomen as you twisted your torso in a strange way while attempting to struggle against the doctors and nurses.

The pain forced you to stop resisting so much, and after a few moments your state of hyperventilation had passed. After you had calmed down, you gained some recollection of what had happened and where you were.

Another few minutes had passed and a nurse began to ask you questions about what you remembered, how you felt, and if you knew why you were there, having you write down your answers on a pad of paper with your unbroken wrist, though she was careful not to harm the dislocated shoulder.

Your writing was barely legible. Your hand had been trembling violently the whole time, and your only usable hand was your off hand.

Once she seemed to be done interviewing you, you zoned out, still in shock after your violent wake-up and the events of the crash. You heard her say something about stitches, and then something about extubation before you completely tuned out 

The breathing tube was uncomfortable, but it seemed like a minor thing compared to the pain you felt up and down your arms and legs, as well as in your abdomen. You had no idea what time it was. The curtains were drawn, and you had absolutely no perception of time, aside from the wall-clock which read seven-fifteen. Morning or night, you couldn’t tell.

You shut your eyes and tried to ignore the pain. Instead you focused on how tired you felt, and how nice it would feel to sleep. Slowly, you drifted out of consciousness.

When you woke up again, you felt no panic. Just bleary eyed and still just as tired as when you had fallen asleep. This time, though, there were two people in the room with you. One at your bedside and another sitting by the door.

You blinked a few times and gave your vision time to clear. You identified the two people as Jason and Bruce, and a strange sense of comfort washed over you. Bruce was dressed in civilian clothes, but Jason wore a hospital gown.

Both were asleep, Bruce hunched over in the too-small chair, and Jason slumped onto the side of the bed with his head resting in his arms.

The clock on the wall read seven-thirty, but you doubted that it had been only fifteen minutes since you were last awake. No. You felt the hours of sleep in the way your eyelids seemed to stick shut when you blinked.

You wanted to make some move to alert them that you were awake, but the breathing tube still kept you from speaking and Jason was on the side of your broken wrist. Your dislocated shoulder prevented you from reaching across and waking him with your other hand 

You felt helpless all over again. You were scared and it felt like you had been alone for an eternity.

As you realized your predicament, you became painfully aware of the sounds of your breathing tube and heart monitor and the buzz of all of the machines that were keeping you alive.

That was another thing that scared you. How close were you to death? What kind of line were you walking? What if you fell onto the wrong side? What if you fell asleep right here and just never woke up? What if the last time you ever got to see Jason he didn’t get to see you? It scared you tremendously. But it was a hollow, passive fear. Passive because what else could you be with a tube down your throat and two useless arms? As you stared up blankly at the hospital ceiling you realized that the most terrifying experience of your life wasn’t staring into the barrel of a gun, or colliding with the asphalt at fifty miles per hour. The most terrifying experience of your life was taking place right then. Staring passively up at a hospital ceiling. Helplessly wondering if you were going to die. There was no adrenaline. There was no rush that kept you from looking death straight in the face.

You pondered this for a long while, until, to your relief, Jason stirred from his sleep.

He groaned slightly as he awoke, and you smiled to yourself as best you could around the tube 

You watched as he lifted his head and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Slowly, his eyes met with yours, and you saw slow relief take over his expression.

He smiled sadly and moved a hand to the side of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his eyes expressing relief, but also guilt and love.

You managed a small shake of your head. It’s not your fault, you wanted to say. The subtle change in his expression told you that he’d understood what you’d meant.

“I love you. I- I just- I need to say that. I love you.” The sadness he carried in his voice broke you. The way his voice started to break at the end. The bittersweet message that his words carried. I love you and I need to say it now because if you fall asleep again I might not get another chance.

You nodded your head as best you could, never breaking eye contact with him. I love you too, you wanted to say. There were so many things you wanted to say in that moment. I love you. It’s not your fault. If I die I don’t want you to blame yourself forever. I’m scared. I love you. I love you. I love you.

His hand never left the side of your face, and he continuously brushed circles on your cheek with his thumb. As you watched him, you swore you could see the moment where whatever thoughts he was having, whatever ideas plagued his mind, broke him. His face contorted into a caricature of grief and it alarmed you.

It was so unlike Jason to cry, or display his grief so openly. Part of you wanted to tell him not to waste his tears on you, but the other side wanted to cry along with him. To cry because of the helplessness that ate away at your resolve.

Jason managed to wipe away his tears quickly, and if you hadn’t seen it yourself, you wouldn’t have been able to guess that he had been weeping just moments earlier. He rest his head gently against your upper arm, careful not to hurt you.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed before you felt a sharp and painful twinge in your abdomen. You winced slightly, but paid it no mind. You figured it was just a bruise, or some stitch from your surgery that had been pulled 

You grunted in pain when the twinge returned, more painfully. You became alarmed once the pain branched up into your chest. It hurt like hell, and soon your entire abdomen was in excruciating pain.

You cried out through the breathing tube. It was a strange, mangled sound and it had Jason’s head shooting up from the bed.

“(Y/N)?” he asked in a panic, trying to get you took look at him. You cried out again, and Bruce, who had just woken up, shouted for a nurse.

Several people came running into the room, two of which began pulling a struggling Jason out into the hallway.

He fought tooth and nail to get back to your side, struggling hard against the people who were pulling him away. 

“I love you!” he shouted, just as he was pulled out into the hall, and the door was shut in his face.

“Tune in to yourself,” says Taryn Toomey, the latest étoile du jour to light up the fitness world, addressing a women’s retreat in upstate New York last summer. “Know there’s a part of you that really wants the suffering and part of you that really wants the awakening.

“Know who’s running the show.”

Therein lies the essence of the Taryn Toomey phenomenon—suffering and awakening, hurting and healing. Toomey is the birthmother of The Class, a body-depleting, mind-bending workout that defies both definition and category. Physically demanding and emotionally exhausting, it is, to its throngs of acolytes who sweat regularly in her signature TriBeCa gym, spiritually and psychically cathartic. 

The hallmark of The Class is a series of repetitive motions devoid of rep count; there is no telling when the torture will end, an approach that plunges you entirely into the moment.

The hallmark of The Class is a series of repetitive motions devoid of rep count; there is no telling when the torture will end, an approach that plunges you entirely into the moment. Meshing high-intensity calisthenics with impassioned, confessional, almost feral exhortations, Toomey doesn’t simply want you to feel the burn—she wants you to experience it as an existential crisis.

“There’s a very specific way we train our teachers, of how we open the room,” says Toomey. “There’s an arc of the class, it’s how we build trust. There’s the physical, the emotional, the energetic. Then there is the spiritual. And we let you into that door through the body.” 

The Class didn’t so much start one day as it evolved. From doing sports as a teenager, to practicing yoga, to running, Toomey says it was marinating within her for a long time. “Things were getting activated in me,” she says. She started doing her impassioned, improvisational workouts with a friend in the gym in the basement of the building where she used to live. Other friends joined, and then this one told that one, and eventually Toomey took her show to the Dance Factory. Then came men and women from around Manhattan who had heard about this thing, this fitness class that wasn’t just about strength or cardio, but also about spirit and soul—not in that bullshit way that some classes try to invoke your animal spirit, but in a very real way that holds your hand as you step into your own darkness, and guides you toward the light, also your own. It’s a thing, a class, a workout, a mindfuck so powerful and popular, that Taryn Toomey has opened three outposts, in LA, Vancouver, and the Hamptons; hosts a monthly  “spiritual residency” in Miami; and offers multi-day “Retreatments” to places like Martha’s Vineyard and the Dominican Republic. →

Toomey has also collaborated with Lululemon on a clothing line, has recently started offering specialized classes at Equinox and Pure Yoga, and has put her name on a palette of muted pastel nail polish and bath salts. She designs her own high-end line of crystal gemstone jewelry, and even sells hats and capes that mimic her signature look. Indeed, what ignited as her own drive to exercise more mindfully—that is, to move her body in a way that freed her mind so as to open her heart—is erupting into a kind of empire of Toomey-inspired everything. 

Following Toomey on social media is so profound it could turn your day around, maybe your life. “To those who inspired it but will never read it,” she posts as encouragement to journal. In another she writes, “One of the most expensive things you could ever do is pay attention to the wrong people.” 

And yet. There she is, on a motor boat on Lake Como. At the Savoy Hotel in London. Lounging in Marrakesh. She’s even getting a bikini wax! Clearly the Ralph Lauren account exec turned spiritual crusader likes nice stuff, and who doesn’t? But as she crosses that border from creator into celebrity, is her ever-increasing price tag ($5,000-a-week “Retreatments,” travel not included) putting this work out of reach?  

Jennifer Wolff: In my first class you chanted about the birth experience, among other things. In fact, you didn’t seem to be teaching or leading a class as much as acting out the kind of cataclysmic epiphany many students come to The Class to experience. By the end you were on your knees pounding your fists into the floor, your hair stuck to your cheeks, your eyes somewhat crazed, and saying “Fuck this” and “Fuck that.” What was that? 

Taryn Toomey: Sometimes I feel like I’m on the battlefield out there. I’m not just teaching. I say what comes through me. I’ve given birth twice, and I remember feeling, “I can’t do this anymore. This is so intense. When is this going to end?” And then boom, you start pushing and a baby comes out and you have a love that you never knew possible. I don’t often talk about the birth experience, but that’s where I was that day. So for me, the reason I can teach and do what I do is because I’ve had a lot of shit go down and been in a lot of pain for a long time, and I’m teaching from the depths of a lot of things. People look at me and are like, “What is this girl doing?” I still do this with a very soft, humble, scared heart. I’m still trying to heal myself. 

What do you think it is about The Class that is such a revelation for people? 

I have a true belief that there is not one human better than another and I am there with everyone. The thing I always do first is gain the trust of the room. And I do that by letting people know that they don’t have to do any of it. I’ll say, “You can just stand and place your hands over your heart and breathe.” I give people permission not to do it, and then usually they are able to do it a bit more. It’s gaining trust of the psyche from one’s own self. If you tell someone they have to do something, usually they will resist. That’s what I find in my own self. So there’s a buildup of movements slowly that’s attached to breath awareness. We don’t go in there and be like, “Everybody lose your shit!” There’s sound involved [the music volume gets higher as movement intensifies, then lower during breaks of stillness] so people can express themselves without feeling like they’re having some sort of panic attack. It’s one of the built-in safety nets, so at the end of a big exercise, like the burpees, you can express yourself and then land in stillness. The hands are on the body. You recover the heart. You feel the soles of your feet on the floor.

Your exercises are simple. No weights. No bands. Very old school, not unlike Jack LaLanne: jumping jacks, flapping arms, leg lifts. And those damned burpees. But you don’t count. We never know when it’s going to end. 

The intention is that it’s basic. There is no choreography. You close your eyes and go. You watch your mind as opposed to your mind having to do something. It’s actually a form of self-study. And when stuff comes up, it’s probably a pretty good sign that you’re on the edge of something that is really transformative. So what do you do? You breathe. You notice that you’re in the throes of something. Instead of knowing when it’s over, you practice your ability to tolerate feeling, to tolerate intensity, and you stay right there with yourself.

Most articles about The Class describe screaming and crying. After three classes I heard some screaming and witnessed some tears, but it was nothing like what people are saying. 

I know. One person cries and the media makes it like everyone is sobbing. Sure, sometimes people cry a bit. Sometimes it hits you. There are times when I’ve gone to my other teachers’ classes and they have broken me. It happens. But it can’t be like, “Cry!” If people come expecting to cry, they’re not going to cry.

Have you seen any transformation in your regular students?

This question makes me very uncomfortable. It’s like every single thing in my body starts to flare up and I don’t want to share any of it. But, yeah, people have told me that it’s changed their whole life. Students have been able to create completely new career paths for themselves, or leave painful or toxic relationships, or grieve the loss of things from years ago. They’ve broken patterns within themselves. They’ve completely changed their physical body. But I don’t take ownership for any of it because they’re the ones that are doing it. I’m just kind of channeling their experience based on the energy they bring to the room. It’s like I’m here to be of service. 

Do you ever discuss your own trauma? The trauma that led you to this place? To The Class?

With people in my inner circle, behind the scenes. If you pull the hood back, it’s intense. But I’ve never fallen victim to it. And I say  to the people who have hurt me, “Thank you.” Because they have required me to heal. I have a lot of stuff to process from the past. I think I’m clearing a lot of it, and I feel grateful that I am able to do what I am doing.

People refer to you as the new fitness guru, sometimes even a celebrity fitness guru. Is that what you are?

That makes me laugh, too. I have friends who call themselves gurus. With all due respect, I don’t consider myself one. And to call me a celebrity fitness guru, that just makes me want to roll over. It makes me crazy because those celebrities who work out, they’re that way because they work their faces off for their own bodies. Nobody is putting them on a machine and doing the work for them.

You now have four studios. How do you keep the intention of this work from becoming diluted?

It’s a fine balance. I’ve really had to have some hard conversations with myself, especially lately. One of the hard things would be if I lost my ability to teach and my community for some big dollar sign. That would be my worst nightmare.

Do you consider yourself a luxury brand?  

I’d say yes. I love beautiful things. I’m also thrifty. I’ve done everything on a budget. And we’ve said no to a lot of pretty big deals because they didn’t feel right. We actually could have been a lot further in terms of opening studios and putting a lot more gas in the tank. We’re trying to be mindful as we move forward. So it’s like a double-edged sword: I like luxury, but I want this work to be accessible to all. 

Even your Retreatments? Those are pretty expensive.

The retreats evolved in the same way The Class happened, which was a mash-up of all the things that I loved and needed. 

I had not traveled much, but I wanted to. I wanted to be able to bring my kids. I like really good food. I like really good music. I like friends coming together. I like to move my body. I like to meditate. I like yoga in the afternoon. Why don’t I get a whole bunch of people together and do it? So it’s great because all of these things are now enmeshed. I have basically designed my life around the way I want to live. It wasn’t this big idea of “Let’s make it really luxury.” It was “I want to get out of the city in the summer and out of the cold in the winter.” 

That said, behind the scenes, we’re working to layer in some additional retreats with other teachers that are more accessible, and price points that are lower. So we are going to, as we move forward, make sure that there are ways for this work to be accessible to all, because that’s the end goal.

Will we see Taryn Toomey for Target?

No, not necessarily. I’m not saying ‘pooh-pooh’ on Target, nor am I going to say no. But we’re moving slowly because of the questions of teachers and how to rescale it. We’ll do a few more studios in the right markets. We’re considering some digital platforms.

Right when I’m like, “Am I going crazy?” That’s when…it’s a little bit of, that’s where the “magic” lives.

Your class is so out there it’s hard to know if it’s complete magic or complete BS. 

Yeah, I said something like that to someone recently. I said, “Sometimes I feel completely insane. I feel like I’m bodying right up against the edge of madness, and that’s where all of the genius lives.” She was like, “Yeah, you’re right.” It’s like what you just said. I was kind of laughing about it because that’s what I feel like sometimes. I feel like right when I’m like, “Am I going crazy?” That’s when…it’s a little bit of, that’s where the “magic” lives.

Inside the Class

Our writer throws herself into Taryn Toomey’s “The Class” and comes out the other side—intact.

Taryn Toomey steps in so close to my face I think she’s going to kiss me. And though generally not into women, I am fairly certain in that instant that I will kiss her back, until I realize that this is how she greets people, up in their grill, under their skin. 

“Does anything hurt?” she asks after not kissing me.  

“Yes,” I tell her. “Everything.”

“Perfect,” she replies. “We’ll take care of that.” 

I don’t know what she means, or what she is—sort of beautiful, sort of plain, absolutely radiant, her blonde streaked hair tumbled just so atop her head, her skin aglow with the slightest brush of the expensive highlighter she sells in the gift shop outside of her Bridgehampton pop-up. To get to her, to The Class, I had to maneuver between fancy women in big sunglasses and expensive workout gear driving Mercedes and Range Rovers, fighting for a space in the crowded dirt lot. But once inside, lifted by the sweet smell of palo santo—and by the Chanel products in the bathroom—I find peace on the Toomey-insignia’d yoga mat that will define my space among some 40 others during the next hour of sweat and, so I am told, tears. 

Toomey starts us off with Mumford & Sons’ “Si Tu Veux”—beat-driven, foreign, imploring—and we begin to move as she whisper-talks into her little mic. I can’t make out what she is saying, only that her voice is not coming into my head but through it. She urges me, all of us, from the inside, through a round of jumping jacks that never seems to end until it does. Then we stand, hands over heart, until we begin again, this time with squats, and a song that seems to speak for Toomey, Avicii’s “Wake Me Up”:

Feeling my way through the darkness

guided by a beating heart

I can’t tell where the journey will end

but I know where to start… 

I feel weak, unable to keep up. It’s been a while since I set foot in a gym or onto a mat. My body creaks. I am angry that it won’t move how I want it to, how I bend my waist into my squats, how my hands won’t clap above my head during the jacks. And don’t talk to me about the goddamned burpees, of which I’ve done, maybe, one.  

“Stay in your body,” Toomey says. “Don’t let anyone fucking tell you how to live. How to be. Who you are.” She looks at me through the crowd, and I look down. Ashamed. It’s like she’s reading the script inside of my head. I. Can. Not. Do. This. I feel her stare, and look back up. She nods, as though telegraphing, Yes, you can. If you want to. You can. 

As the frenzy of the class builds, Toomey riffs like a preacher on the precepts of pain, of time, of overcoming self-imposed limitations. Yet she doesn’t demand focus or discipline. She asks for something else entirely: surrender. 

As the exercises grow more intense, so does the music get louder. The yelps and grunts that explode from the crowd lay down a baseline rhythm for the room, a deep-throated mantra in which soon enough I lose myself, too. Because the more I move, the deeper Toomey’s raspy voice penetrates my brain, the looser my limbs become, the stronger. And then my revelation: I am frightened not of my weakness but of my strength. I’m frightened not of what my body can’t do, but by what I have never let it do: be powerful. 

Meanwhile, Toomey begins to twist into her own unique contortions, as though gripped in an exorcism. Then, she comes down and brings us with her. We stand, hand to heart, feet to floor. “All you need is right under your hand,” she whispers. “It’s all you need. Not the cars or the clothes or the stuff.” I gaze toward her shop with the $800 gemstone pendants and the $100 beauty serums, and I wonder with all that’s being offered, for a price, is my heart truly enough?

The post Trusting Yourself Enough to Break appeared first on Mindful.

Word Vomit Wednesday - #WINNING

Welcome to Word Vomit Wednesday! A series of blog posts about a specific topic from current events that I, and sometimes the rest of the Internet, ruminate obsessively about. All thoughts/opinions/experiences are my own; I don’t claim anything that I write to represent anyone other than myself.

 Hey all, happy Wednesday and Valentine’s Day! I’m still working on my #MeToo/Music industry piece for you all so, expect that in the next few weeks. There’s just so much about it to work through and my head feels like it’s going to explode every time I sit down to write it and that’s why it’s taking SO LONG. In the meantime, I would like to share with you some good news that I received this morning: MY HEALTH INSURANCE IS COVERING MY BIRTH CONTROL!!!! You may be thinking, “Ummm, isn’t birth control supposed to be already covered by insurance, like, by law?” And to that I would respond, “Our White House is full of white supremacists, sexual predators, and dogmatic followers of Gilead and nothing mAkes SEnse or MaTTeRS ANYMORE. EVERYTHING IS CHAOS HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA?”

Before my maniacal cry laughter makes you completely back away from me, let me give you some background. I have had to be on birth control since I was about 12 years old because of period pain and symptoms that were reminiscent of being stabbed repeatedly in the uterus by a ghost (for those of you who already know this part of my story feel free to tune out). It turns out that I was not being physically assaulted by the paranormal once a month, but had a fun case ( and by fun case, I mean incurable disease) of Endometriosis. After going through maybe two or three types of birth control pills that were available at the time, it became apparent I was going to need stronger stuff.

For eight years I got a shot of Depo Provera in my hip every three months. Was this birth control that helped me be pain free and function like a normal human being (really teenager, so as normal as a teenager can be) covered by insurance? NO. DUH. Remember, as much as our health insurance sucks now it sucked WAAAAY more before the ACA passed. Anyway, my expectations of getting any medical help from anyone but my parents was extremely low. So, when I switched back to the pill (there were more options now) it was as seamless as it could be. I didn’t have to try a million things, my doctor gave me samples of Loestrin FE to try and I felt fine on them. Because this was still pre-ACA it wasn’t covered, but once the ACA passed…. IT STILL WASN’T COVERED.

Loestrin FE (which later became Minastrin and is now Taytulla) was not covered because it is not a generic medication so you have to prove that you can’t take any other meds before they’ll cover it, otherwise you will have to pay out of pocket for it ($130 - $224 a pack). For a while, if my pill got rejected my doctor had to file an emergency appeal stating that I needed it to manage my endo and later (when I did try the generic) that I couldn’t be on the alternatives because they threw me into depressive spirals. Usually this was all it took and then I’d be ok for another year. Wash, rinse, repeat for about 6 years. About a year and a half ago I decided to try a different pill and I felt fine on it for awhile. I later decided it wasn’t for me and to go back to the pill that I’d previously been on and I expected the process to be the same as it was before. Except this time, they didn’t care that my doctor had submitted my medical reasons for needing to be on this particular formula. They rejected it. Twice. And let me tell you, they came for the wrong bitch.

I took the stack of rejection papers they mailed to me, highlighted and made notes all over them and decided to fight them. It’s been close to a month of being on the phone with many CVS Caremark agents, playing phone tag with my nurse at my OB/GYN’s office (she suggested we should get our own separate hotline), requesting documents, sending documents and even reaching out to start finding legal representation if they continued to give us shit. And this morning, my nurse called me to tell me they caved and will be covering my birth control for the year. It was the best news I could receive and I’m dropping off a nice bottle of bubbly for my nurse at her office tomorrow. Seriously, get you some medical professionals that fight for you and support you. We all deserve that. Also, I need you to let this sink in for a bit: this ordeal was JUST about birth control. The victory aside, this experience screams to me how in trouble women’s health and reproductive rights are right now. Not that we’ve ever been in the clear, but that’s another Word Vomit for another Wednesday.

While, if push comes to shove I have the privilege to have the option to pay for this medication out of pocket, it was so important for me to be vigilant about my care. It was important to let them know that I know what I’m worth and what I need. It was important to me to not stay silent because that’s how they get away with treating people like a bottom line instead of a person. I don’t know why my insurance ultimately decided to approve my medication, but I have a feeling it was partly because they realized that they were dealing with someone who isn’t easily intimidated by a stack of papers, who knows that they have no grounds or basis for denying me care, and would fight them til the bitter end.

  Katie Louchheim would like to give all the Valentines to all those medical professionals who have dedicated their lives to caring and supporting women and our health. You are invaluable and you make the world a better place for us all.

War of Hearts:Part 1/? - Alpha!Roman Reigns x Omega!Reader; Alpha!Braun Strowman x Omega!Reader

A/N: Ok so this is a series I’ve been working on. 1. Because I love Braun Strowman and Roman Riegns and 2. I love the whole werewolf AU. And 3 I’m a sucker for soulmate AUs😫😫It’s my first time ever writing something like this so please be gentle. I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea ☕️ Tagging my babes @theworldiscolorful , @therealfivefeetoffuckingfury , @smolsassynalilsmartassy because they continue to inspire me and encourage me. I love you guys 🖤🖤 Pairings: Alpha!Roman Reigns x Reader ; Future Alpha!Braun Strowman x Omega!Reader Warnings: Cursing maybe? Angstish (like internally, it’s a love triangle people), Fluff, A/B/O dynamics Summary: Becoming a women’s wrestler is never easy, especially as an Omega. Finding love is even harder. Will you find love in one or will fate throw you to the wolves? Follow this story as the reader goes into battle in a “War of Hearts”.

“I can’t help but be wrong in the dark ‘Cause I’m overcome in this war of hearts”

Being an omega was never easy but thanks to my family and Grade A suppressants I managed it. It was extremely hard because on top of all that I was a pro wrestler trying to make my way up the ranks without the help of my superstar big brother Daniel Bryan or The Bella’s who were practically my sisters.

“So, what’s it like?” Nikki asked.

“Being on suppressants? I don’t know. Ok… so you know how during your heat all you want is the ’D’ but the only thing that can quell it is a knot?”

“Yeah…”

“Well the suppressants help it so that all I need is the ’D’ and it can be attached to some nice little Beta and not some asshole Alpha. It also helps me not be a slave to my own body. Just because I’m an omega, doesn’t mean I need an Alpha to function.”

“Of course, not Babe. You’re a strong independent omega!”

“Nik not so loud, would ya? Most people still think I’m a Beta and I’d like to keep that way.”

“Why hun you should be proud of who and what you are. “I couldn’t help but sigh at her comment.

“I am, Nik. It’s not how I feel about it. It’s how

others perceive me when they find out that bothers me. Alphas only want me hanging off their knots and Betas look down at me as if that is all I want as well.” I replied somberly.

“Hey (Y/N). I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that I promise.”

“I know you didn’t Nikki. Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“What’s it like to find your true mate. Like with you and John. What was that whole experience like?”

“Gosh girl, I don’t think there are enough hours in the day to explain what it felt like but I’ll try my best.” She giggles before turning serious. “You know how everyone has their own scent and some are more appealing than others?”

“Yes, but with my suppressants a lot of other people’s scent have been dulled to me.”

“Really?” she paused for a split second shaking her head “I mean, as I was saying when you finally meet your true mate, or at least when I met John he smelt otherworldly. The first whiff had my wolf screaming, girl. She kept repeating things like mate, and home, and mine. The scent itself smelt like pinewoods and musk. Man, just thinking about it… whoo.” She had to stop and fan herself at the thought of her own true mate.

“Nikki!” I squealed.

“Sorry, hun. I can’t help it. Anyways that’s just the smell. When we touched, my body was set ablaze. Like first heat times 100.” I shuddered at the thought.

Every omega’s first heat is the cruelest. I was lucky enough to be in the comfort of my own home with suppressants on standby. While my family always thought I’d present as an omega, I was kind of a late bloomer.

“(Y/N/N) did you hear what I said?”

I sheepishly looked down shaking my head mouthing an ‘I’m sorry’.

“What I was saying is that you also go into an instant heat and your mate goes into an instant rut to push the mating process. And if you don’t couple you’ll be in the most excruciating pain you’ve ever been in. Just driving to the hotel was a feat for me and John. What’s made you so curious about this all the sudden?”

“I don’t honestly know. I just know I’m getting older and still haven’t found my mate. Part of me wonders if the whole true mate thing is even real. Or maybe I just don’t have one you know?”

Nikki was having none of that. She practically lunged from her spot on the couch to pummel me in a big hug, scent marking me in a comforting manner. Omega instincts at its finest.

“He’s out there Babydoll. I just know it. And besides today’s a day of celebration remember? Your Raw debut is tomorrow and me, Brie, and Daniel couldn’t be prouder. You’ve worked so hard on your own, taking absolutely no hand outs and you’re finally here. So, no time for being sad. We have take- out on the way to the house as well as Brie and Daniel. Then we’re going to watch your favorite movie while we eat ice cream, standard pre-match ritual.”

I couldn’t help but smile because ever since I could remember, whether it be my brother or one of the Bella’s, they always spent a movie night in with me before one of our big matches. Now here was one of my biggest matches to date and all three of them were going to celebrate it with me. I love my little pack and couldn’t ask for a better family.

To my surprise even John Cena, Nikki’s Alpha, came to support our pack tradition. He really was a great addition and the love I saw between the two always inspired me and gave me hope that one day I would find a worthy Alpha.

The night went off without a hitch and even ended up with all of us in a puppy pile in the middle of the floor surrounded by pillows and blankets.

The one omega trait I could never seem to shake, even as a pup, was cuddling or puppy piling when I could convince the pack.  I guess that’s why my parents thought I’d present as an Omega eventually. Most days I was either cuddled between one of the couples or koala beared on the back of one of my pack mates. It was just one of those quirks I was known for. I mean I’m the baby of the pack, what did they expect? This also earned me my nickname Babydoll which most people even outside my pack would called me. Hell, even Stephanie McMahon referred to me as Babydoll. It also didn’t help that that was also my in-ring persona. And while most people’s in ring personas were a complete 180 to real life. I was just me and I love it that way.

The morning of my debut was spent at the gym for a light training session with my big brother, making sure I had all my submission moves down to the letter. I even made him genuinely tap out a few times, which had my confidence through the roof.

The rest of the morning was spent getting coffee and getting to the performance arena in a timely manner. Being a newbie meant having to get there early so that Steph could give me a quick rundown of how tonight was going to go. I was thrilled when they told me, my match was going to be a tag team match with Sasha and I versus Charlotte and Dana. And to top it off I was slated to pin Charlotte in a submission move, my brother’s yes lock, for the win. To say I was nervous was an understatement.

After the rundown with Steph and the pleasantries exchanges with the girls I was carded off to The Bella’s dressing room for hair and makeup.

Being the baby of the pack had its perks, I was spoiled beyond belief. The girls’ excuses were always 'for my protection’. And to some extent I would agree. Being submerged into a new environment where pack dynamics are almost nonexistent, it’s hard to find your place. To top it off my sense of smell is not as sharp as it should be so I wasn’t able to sniff out the good from the bad.

So, I was totally fine with being sequestered to the Bella’s locker room it was safe and I felt protected there.

“Knock, Knock. Can I come in?” It was Sasha.

“Of course, girl. I just finished putting on the final touches to my makeup. How do I look?”

Sasha was one of the few people I knew from the main roster. We spent a lot of time together during developmental. During my time there we were practically attached at the hip. We were so close in fact, she knew my true presentation.

Sasha was a beta with an Alpha complex, basically she was chill until someone tried to mess with her friends because then all bets were off. I cherished our friendship and I missed her dearly when she was moved up the main roster. But now here we were together again and on the same brand!

The next thing I knew Sasha was suffocating me in a bone crushing hug. As I hugged her back with as much enthusiasm, a foreign smell hit my senses prompting me to ask, “Sash what is that smell? Are you wearing a new perfume?”

She looked at me strangely, “ No…. Why?”

“I’m not sure I just got a whiff of something, is all.”

“What do you mean? I thought you said your suppressants dull your sense of smell.”

“They do that’s why I was wondering. But never mind. I can’t believe I’m here! I finally made it! And I get my best friend back!”

“Oh, Babydoll you never lost me, you know that.” She said rubbing my back.

“Yea but this is different. I’m seeing you in the flesh. And now we get to hang out just like old times.”

Sasha and I spent our time catching each other up on certain things we missed in each other’s lives, everything from matches to romantic rendezvous.

“I can’t believe you actually went out with him (Y/N)! What happened to your rule of no Alphas unless he’s the Alpha!”

“Hey, I don’t regret it. Roman is amazing and besides I gained an amazing friend because of it!”

Even though I had a thing about staying away from most Alphas, something about Roman drew me in. Roman and I had been on a few dates together and he was an amazing kisser to say the least but we both realized really early on that we were just meant to be friends, almost like platonic soulmates. Even though I was losing hope on the whole true mate Alpha thing, I still didn’t want to give myself over to someone who wasn’t my Alpha. Both of us were so in tuned to one another it was crazy that we weren’t true mates. Best parts about Roman though was the fact that he was a great cuddle buddy and more often than not he would scent mark me so other asshole Alphas would stay away.

“I don’t care what you say I still ship it.”

I couldn’t help but stick my tongue out at my best friend more than anything, I was just glad to have her back.

“Okay, so if not Roman. I should ask. Do you still have that school girl crush on Braun?”

“OMG Sasha!” I shoved at her shoulder. I can’t believe she brought up the “Braun” thing.

“Ok first of all Sash it wasn’t a school girl crush. I merely wondered who he was. He’s the 'Monster among men’. Can you blame me?”

I had seen Braun once in my life but have never even spoken to him, while I have seen his matches and think he’s an amazing athlete. I’ve never even spoken two words to him.

I was in the states from a stint in Japan and I had promised Sasha I would visit. I was trying to hone my craft across seas while my best friend was training in the new NXT performance center of WWE. I was so proud of her and missed her like crazy so I stopped in Florida before going home to Arizona where I had stayed part time in with my brother, Bryan and his amazing wife Brie, in their new home. Even Josie their French Bulldog was one of my favorites.

That experience at the performance center was otherworldly, not because of “Braun” but just because it motivated me even more to make it to WWE. It was also the first time I met my Samoan superman of a best friend.

As I was kicking Sasha’s butt around the ring and trying to help hone her new submission move, the Banks Statement, I was also showing her possible opponent counters. What can I say I had made a name for myself as a submission specialist and grappler, having learned from all over the world. So, as I have her in a counter of a modified version of the black widow. Mind you I’m upside down. I see this amazing hulk of a man walking in and I nearly lose my breath. It wasn’t the size or stature, he didn’t hold himself menacingly. In fact, he looked quite sweet. His scent is what had me breathless, he must have felt me staring cause as he walked by us, we made eye contact. My heart nearly stopped right then and there. I immediately released my best friend not wanting to be seen in such a graceless state.

I couldn’t be more thankful for my scent blockers because damn did he scream Alpha. The fact that I could smell him was saying something.

Breaking eye contact I turn to make sure I didn’t pull back Sasha’s arm too bad.

“Hey girl you ok?”

“Yeah but what happened? You stopped before I could counter.”

I couldn’t help it when my eyes cut to Braun only for him to be looking back at me unashamed smiling sweetly instead of a typical douche smirk most men in general throw my way.

Blushing immediately I break eye contact but not before I see a damn smirk come into view and damn it if I didn’t actually like it.

Sasha caught the whole interaction even shaking her head at Braun who simply answered with a shrug.

“Babydoll, is there something you want to ask me?” Sasha asked fluttering her eyelashes in quick succession.

“Who’s that?” I muttered knowing full well she heard me.

“I’m sorry but you’re going to have to speak up, Baby.”

“You know what let’s forget it we have work to do my flight is tonight so I’m limited on time. Plus, I’m not gonna worry myself about someone I may never see again anyways.” I huffed trying to get back to sparring.

“Ok miss priss but his name is Braun Strowman and he a nice gentlemanly southern Alpha. But he’s with that bleach blonde over there starring daggers at your head. Her names Dana and she is one bitchy Beta with an omega complex.”

That explained a lot. While most betas took on a slight Alpha complex there were some, mainly women, who would take sort of an omega complex to seem more appealing to Alphas. Why? I had no idea, being an omega sucked sometimes, it’s why I take military grade suppressants.

“Like I said no time to worry about anyone but myself.”

And that’s how that conversation ended as you and Sasha started to spar again going back and forth between submissions and counters.

All the while a hulking Alpha looking on majorly impressed. And a bitchy blonde seething.

“Okay. Okay. Whatever you say. But! There is something I never got to tell you about that day.”

“What’s that?”

“After you left he came up to me and asked about you.”

Fighting my blush like my life depended on it I scoffed and said, “So what?”

“It’s so cute how you think you can fool me, you know that? Anyways…. he had asked me if you were an omega.”

My heart stopped upon hearing that. No one absolute no one should be able to sniff me out as an omega…. well except for my true mate….

I shook myself out of such dangerous thoughts.

“Sash how are you so relaxed about that and are now just telling me. You know there is no way in hell he should have been able to scent my placement.”

I look to my best friend trying to find some sense of understanding and then I see her light bulb go off.

“Omg! I never even thought of that (Y/N)! Omg stupid beta brain.”

“Wait so what did you say?” I asked panicked.

“I told him no that you were a Beta but he never did look quite convinced when I said that, come to think of it.”

“Sash what else, what else did he want to know?” I urged my best friend to talk faster.

“Nothing just who you were and where you were from, in fact he seemed real interested about you until Dana came sniffing around. I swear that girl needs a reality check.”

“I’m kinda freaking out here girl…. you don’t think…. this whole true mate thing is true, do you?”

“You’re seriously asking ME that?”

“I’m sorry I just …. idk I’m just really on the verge of a mental breakdown.”

A knock at the door broke me from my hysterics.

“Who’s that?!”

“Calm down girl, it’s probably just Roman. He asked where we were and I told him.”

As if he could fell my panic and was Superman to the rescue. I immediately felt a hundred times better even with the whole looming true mate business. Something about Roman just soothes my soul to its core. Before Sasha could get the door open I was bum rushing my Samoan Superman.

“Roman!” I squealed.

Pummeling into one of his bear hugs I totally took advantage, arms around the neck and legs around the waist practically gluing myself to his essence.

He just chuckled into the scent gland on my neck, expecting nothing less from me, kissing it before mumbling a quiet, “Hey Babygirl.” And I shivered at his touch.

“Ugh you guys need to get a room you’re disgusting.” Came from behind him the one and only Nikki Bella.

“Aww Nik why can’t I just borrow yours.”

“Eww no way I don’t want all of that rubbing up on all my shit.” She grimaced.

“Not all of it Nik. Just the couch, maybe the table right Roman?” I look up beaming with mischief as I stare into his beautiful gray eyes. Eyes that could calm any storm brewing within me.

“Behave, Babygirl.” He laughed swatting my butt in a reprimanding nature.

“Again eww.”

“Okay Nikki we get it but let the girl live she hasn’t seen him in months and tonight’s her debut.” Brie, always the voice of reason.

Roman walked us over to the awaiting couch, keeping me koala-beared to him, as the girls and Bryan all settled into the dressing room.

Making sure to cuddle as close to my Samoan teddy bear as possible I look to the twins and ask, “So how much longer until we need to head down to the gorilla?”

“They said they’d come and get us but I would say about 20-30 minutes.” Brie answered.

“Dang it and I just got comfortable.” I pouted towards Roman.

“No pouting baby girl.” He flicked my bottom lip, “You need to get up and get warm.”

Tucking into his neck further I mumbled, “But I am warm.”

“You know what I mean” he rumbled.

“Get that booty up and let’s get to stretching.” Nikki came and landed a swift smack on my butt for emphasis on her way out the doors with the others.

Relenting I looked towards Roman, “Scent me for good luck?”

“Of course, baby girl but wait til we get to gorilla okay?”

“Fine.” I pouted.

“Why are you in such a pouting mood babe? It’s your debut, you should be over the moon!”

“I am! I just missed you Ro and I don’t know I’m nervous as hell. Like I just want to curl up in a ball and demand that you hold me.”

“As appealing as that sounds… that’s gonna have to wait until later.” He replies leaving a lingering kiss to my temple.

“Love you,” he whispered as he pulled back.

“I love you too Superman.”

What no one knew about me and Roman was we were sort of more than just friends, while it never went past making out physically there was a deep and intense emotional bond. In fact, a couple years back I made a pact with him if I didn’t find my true mate by my Birthday of this year I would start a mate ship with him and eventually let him claim me as his omega.

It wasn’t an uncommon thing in our world many betas had mate ships with Alphas and many omegas took Alphas that were not considered their true mate.

Unfortunately, many of those omegas would find their true mate Years down the line and make things very complicated within pack dynamic. Trying to live without your true mate once you found them was like living without half of yourself. And that was a fate I’d hope to never face. While Roman was not my true mate I knew deep within my soul I could not live without him. Why, I may never know and with this whole Braun issue I was really scared that I would have to learn how to live without him sooner rather than later.

“Babygirl? You ok in there?” Roman asked, tapping me on my forehead for emphasis.

“Something on your mind?”

“Nothing just thinking. I’m scared.” I whimpered into his neck.

“Scared of what babe? The match? You’re gonna do great. It’s in your blood.” He reassured while rubbing my back.

“Not about that. About us…”

“What about us? We’re good and in six months we will be even better.”

“A lot can happen in six months! What if I find him and then I’ll lose you forever. I can’t lose you Ro. I know you’re not my true mate but we are connected on a soul level and I-I…” I couldn’t stop the tears that broke through that time.

“Shhh hey Babygirl. Listen to me I’m not going anywhere. Yes, a lot can happen in six months. But the one thing you will never have to worry about is losing me.” Gently he leaned down and started kissing my tears away making sure to leave one lasting and loving wet kiss on my lips.

“Promise?”

“Promise. I love you Babygirl, more than my own life.”

“I love you too Superman. To the moon and back.”

“Good now let’s go we can’t keep everyone waiting, now can we?”

“I suppose not.” I giggled into his chest. Before getting up and catching everyone near the gorilla I caught Roman by the scruff of his neck and kissed the breath out of him. I made sure to make it count because in my gut I knew it could be one of our lasts.

“Babygirl…” Roman panted, “What was that?”

“What was what?” I answered cheekily, giving one more quick kiss before rushing out to catch up with my friends and family but not before I heard Roman say, “You little minx. You’re going to be the death of me.”

Part 2