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kaz11283 · 3 years

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Of Course I'm Here

Characters: Come on you know by now how this goes (Loki x you) (Team x you, platonic)

Warnings: None. And really if you ever see anything that I might need to able as a warning please let me know... I'm the person who forgets there are people out there that get offened by the word F*** if that is an exapmle of anything.

Summary: Mid battle and the avengers keep looking for an answer as to why the God of Lies hasnt showed up yet. Of course you have no idea but at least he proves them all wrong.

ANNOUNCEMENT TIME: hey guys Im back, I know it hasnt been long but I also know I havent been posting every single day like I was, i got into a weird little funk where I didnt want to do anything, I was just feeling completly drained, and I felt bad because I have my little and I didnt even want to play with her because I have just been so TIRED, but I'm feeling better. Work has been kicking my ass here lately and ive been working over 50 hours a week so ive literally been coming in, eatting / feeding the little, getting us ready for bed, and crashing as soon as she falls asleep. But im here now. I will probably be more active on weekends than during the week because I have more time to spend working on stuff but I will be posting also during the week just not daily. At least until after state comes. Thank you so much for the reblogs, likes, comments, follows, and messages please keep them coming! If you would like to be tagged please ask or message, and requests are open. Love you guys so much! 💚💚💚💚💚

Loki Masterlist

~~~~~

"Y/N, BACK UP I NEED BACK UP! EYES IN THE SKY!" Tony yelled from above, you and Clint stood back to back on a roof top shooting as many bad guys as you could. Clint took aim at another carrier, shooting at the engine causing the entire thing to blow up raining debris and hot metal around you.

"Damnit Clint! Farther away make sure they are farther away!" You yelled popping him on the head with an arrow before aiming it at the thing that was chasing Tony.

"Where is lover boy at? You.sent him the location right?" Nat asked into the com.

"Yes I sent him the location, no I dont know where hes at." You mocked.

"Did you send him the right location?" Sam asked.

"One time, one dam-"

"Language!" Steve chimed in causing everyone to groan. Gun shots where ringing all around you and you could here metal on metal paired with Hulk screams coming from another building over.

"Language." You mocked muting your com son that no one but Clint heard you. "I am a 26 year old woman, I think I'm old enough to cuss if I want." You drew back your bow and sent another arrow flying into another goon that had Nat trapped aginst a wall. She shot you a thumbs up before running off. You hit unmute on your com.

"Jesus, 26? Baby, you sure you don't need to be at a babysitter instead of on a building killing things?" He laughed.

"Dont worry Hawk, when we get done here I've already booked you a nice nursing home to be put into." You put your bow around you and stood on the edge of the building. "I need a better view." You looked round, the top of a taller building caught you eye. "There Hawk, we can cover a better radius from up there, get closer to the action."

"DOES ANYONE KNOW WHEN THE GODS ARE GOING TO BE HERE? WE NEED MORE HELP WERE GETTING TIRED AND OUT NUMBERED!" Tony came over the coms screaming.

"How do we get up there? Or do I even wanna know?" Hawk came to examin where you were talking about.

"Im jumping, you cant tell me that someone wont catch me." You shrug.

"GODS WHERE ARE TH- Y/N DONT YOU DARE JUMP!" Tony stopped and hovered right were you was standing.

"Then take us over there. We need higher ground, we cant cover everyone from down here." You crossed your arms.

"Where are the gods at y/n?" He asked again

"I. Dont. Know. Jesus you guys act like I'm suppose to be there keeper!" A simultaneous you are came from everone through the com causing you to roll your eyes. "Hes gonna be here I swear it! Now take me to the building or I jump. 1.....2....-" Tony grabbed you by the collar of your jacket and flew you to the building.

God these things were everywhere and you were starting to run out of arrows. After shooting another ship and causing it to blow you heard what was unmistakably pounding on the roof top door leading to where you currently was at.

"I have some univited guests about to join my party. Anyone available for some assistance?" You yanked out the two emerald green and silver daggars that your boyfriend had given you not long after you had started dating after throwing your bow around you.

"Buy some time kid, I'm on ground level right now but I can try to get up there as fast as possible." Bucky called over the com.

"Buy some time? Ok. I can do this. I work better from afar but a little hand to hand never hurt anyone, just easier to get stabbed this way." The first of the things busted through the door running straight at you. You jerked out of the way missing his staff by just a few inches. Quickly turning you flipped the dagger like Loki had showed you and stabbed him in his side causing him to fall to the ground before the next one tried to impale you.

"I have two daggers and they have freaking staffs! Back up! WHERE THE HELL AR-" you were interupted by static in the air and a bright light. The bitfrost had just opened up leaving to gods standing in front of you and taking out the remainder ofnthe bad guys. "HES HERE! I TOLD YOU GUYS THEY WERE COMING AND THEY'RE HERE." You pulled two extra coms from you pocket and gave them to Thor and Loki.

"Always a pleasure to battle beside you Lady y/n." Thor smiled takkng the com and putting it in his ear before taking off again.

Loki sauntered over to you and put his arm around you waist, you put the com in his ear as he rolled his eyes. He leaned down and gave you a quick kiss.

"You got a new outfit." You smiled at him. God the way he looked in his battle clothe always did something to you, the horned helment was a plus.

"You like it." He smirked down at you pulling you closer.

"Your wearing your horns to." You reached up and brushed a peice if hair behind his ear.

"STOP. STOP NOW. WE CAN HEAR EVERYTHING AND ITS GROSS." Tony yelled causing you both to roll your eyes.

"Quick run down, bad guys everywhere, no end in sight, and I'm out of arrows pretty sure Hawk is too." Loki waved his hand over your quiver making more arrows appear.

"I see you had to use your daggers. I am sorry for not being here. Are you hurt anywhere?" He asked stepping away from you to examin you.

"Small cut on the side, nothing I havent dealt with before, Ill be fine. You go make sure Hawk is fully stocked up and help the others. I got a birds eye view of you right here." I leaned in kissing him one more time before smiling at him and pushing him away. He kissed his two finger before placimg them over his heart and you did the same, "always." You both said before he disappered.

You could hear Thor laughing at the chaos going on and Steve trying to direct the god of thunder on what to do. You had learned earlier to just let him do his own thing and he would be fine. Tony was still trying to micromanage everything when you heard Loki mumble something in an old language and his com cut out. You had figured it wouldnt have stayed on to long though but at least you had tried. It had calmed down up on your end so you decided to finally go back down to where Clint was at shooting an arrow with heavy duty rope you glided back down next to him to watch what was going on.

"Hello, earth to y/n." He snapped his fingers in front of your face. You had been to busy staring at Loki and that damn helmet. "I dont even understand why were friends." He rolled his eyes propping up on the ledge watching as the rest of the team secured the last of the bad guys.

"Because we both shoot arrows, because we are both the best in the team, or because we both know we are the best looking one on the team so we have to stick together." You laughed jumping up so you could sit on the ledge.

"The birds can come out of their nest now." Bucky called over the coms causing you both to sigh.

When you and Clint had reached the bottom you walked over to Thor theowing your arms around the big goof ball.

"You are amazing during battle as always." He beemed patting you on the shoulder.

"As always? Thor youve only fought with her twice." Steve said beside you.

"I had a week off. Went to Asguard, spent time with the boys. Someone had to keep them in line." You shrugged like it was no big deal.

"She was amazing!" Thor went on telling the story of the fight you had all gotten into.

"Mothers been asking about you by the way dear. Wants to know if you've decided to come stay for a while." Loki leaned down and whispered in your ear.

"I think I'm leaning toward a yes. I can't stand being away from you, you had been gone forever this time." You reached for his hand as you both walked to the quinjet.

"I was making arrangements to have our room redone. I figured you would come with me." He gave you a knowing smirk as he reached up to take off his helmet.

"Leave the horns on. I have a suprise for you when we get home." You pulled his hand away from his head and smacked his butt.

"You are a little minx." He laughed chasing you into the jet while the rest of the team groaned and rolled their eyes.

"Even if you wasnt moving i would be kicking your ass out! I am so sick of the PDA between you two." Tony hollared after you.

"Leave them alone Tony, they are courting. Im just glad my brother is happy and not trying to stab me." Thor clapped Tony on the back.

~~~~~

Tag List:

@kgirardin

@sophlubbwriting

@supbeeches

@high-functioning-lokipath

#loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki #loki avengers #loki daily #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #loki fluff #loki x y/n #lokilaufeyson #loki one shot #loki (marvel)#loki imagine #loki masterlist #loki and thor

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 years

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Out Of Time ~ 106

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,350ish

Summary: Y/N gets a call. (Yep, that’s it.)

Summer came and went. Tony and Y/N spent every second that they could together. And when they weren’t together it was because Pepper had forced Tony into meetings and Y/N was at the new facility training.

Talks of having children never came up again, but that’s also because Y/N was doing everything in her power to avoid it.

Before they knew it, it was October. Y/N and Tony were currently laying in bed after another round of sex. They were both shocked when FRIDAY interrupted their peace with an announcement.

“Excuse me, Boss,” the AI started, “but someone’s trying to reach you using the private line.”

“The private line?” Tony repeated.

“Only one person uses the private line,” Y/N stated. “After six months, now is when he decides to call? Not impressed.”

“Ignore it, FRIDAY.”

“I have tried,” FRIDAY said. “But it had been ringing off the hook for the past hour.”

Y/N groaned, burying her face into Tony’s neck. “Just answer it,” she said quietly.

“Y/N? You there?” Coulson’s voice filled the room.

“She’s here,” Tony replied. “Have you decided to finally call and apologize?”

“I have bigger issues right now.”

“Really, Phil?” Y/N questioned. “Like what?”

“Simmons is missing.”

~~~

Coulson went on to explain that Simmons disappeared about 6 months ago, after looking into the rock, the monolith, that was on Gonzalez’ ship. Fitz had been trying his best to find a way to reach her, but nothing. Coulson decided that he needed Y/N’s help on this one, to at least bring Fitz back to reality. That Simmons may never be coming back.

Y/N and Tony quickly dressed. Tony ordered for all the information to be sent to him so that he could also work on it. He gave her a kiss goodbye before she went through a portal to Coulson’s office in the base.

There Phil also explained what had and was happening the Inhumans. Jiaying had killed Gonzalez, trying to start a war. Cal was forced to kill Jiaying in front of Skye, who was now going by Daisy. The crystals had fallen into the ocean and were absorbed by the fish. Causing people to start unlocking there Inhuman DNA without the risk of others dying.

“I do want to apologize,” Coulson finished off his briefing. “You didn’t deserve any of how you were treated. I’m so sorry.”

“Where is everyone?” Y/N asked.

“Skye—Daisy, I mean, Mack, and Hunter are on an extraction mission right now. An Inhuman after terrigensis.”

“Do they know you’re bringing me in?”

“Not yet. Thought it might be a welcome surprise for them.” Coulson checked his watch. “I’m actually running late to meet them. You wanna come with me or stay here?” Coulson began leaving his office.

“You said you were just bringing me in to help Fitz.”

“Yeah, well, I have a new plane. You wanna see it?”

~~~

Y/N was in awe off the new plane, Zephyr One. It was definitely more suited to the team’s needs than the Bus was. Coulson told Y/N to stay hidden while he went to talk to Daisy. She couldn’t help but follow them.

“How’s he doing?” Coulson asked, speaking of the man in the containment module.

“Okay,” Daisy answered. “For now.”

“Third incident already this month, but at least we were able to get our hands on this one.”

“The rate of new cases is increasing.”

“We knew it would after the initial reports.”

“A new inhuman could emerge anywhere, without having any idea what’s happened.”

“Only in the continental US so far. Plus, this new aircraft can stay in the air much longer than the old plane. Days, really, so rapid response anywhere is—“

“You love your new toy, don’t you?”

“I ver much love my new toy. But even with the mind-boggling range of this puppy—“

“Inhumans are still disappearing.”

“This is the first one in a while we’ve been able to secure.”

“Well, it’s no mystery who’s taking them. That black-ops group was there before us.”

“I know.”

“Again. Whoever they are. How many do you think they’ve taken?”

“We know of at least five sightings. Five individuals who vanished before we could get to them. But the real mystery is, who’s running that group?” Coulson and Daisy walked over to the monitors.

“Not if you did your part. How did it feel to join the paparazzi, Phil?”

“I think I might have missed my calling. I have every body, every piece of software, tasked with identifying that woman.” He pointed to the woman on the monitor. “So we can figure out where she’s taking inhuman and what exactly she plans to do with them.”

“Sounds like you need me for more than just hutting down Simmons and calming Fitz then,” Y/N stated as she walked up behind them.

“Y/N?” Daisy gasped with surprise. “How— why—“ She ran up to hug her. “I’ve missed you.”

Y/N welcomed the hug. “I’ve missed you, too.” She pulled back to get a look at her friend. “Well you sure have changed. Chopped your hair off and are going by a different name? Sure sounds like I missed a lot.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I called her in,” Coulson responded. “To help Fitz.”

“Anyone else know you’re here yet?”

“No,” Y/N replied. “Not yet anyway.”

~~~

Everyone was surprised to see Y/N back. But no one risked questioning it, not wanting to get on her or Coulson’s bad sides. She followed Hunter and Coulson to his office, waiting for instructions.

“They’re not HYDRA,” Hunter stated. “You know, I’ve been digging, and my street sources tell me HYDRA’s gone silent. Eerily silent.”

“Really?’ Y/N questioned.

“Yes, but—“

“Yeah, the HYDRA finances we track are static,” Coulson interrupted. “No money’s changing hands.”

They entered his office, where Mack was waiting for them with pictures of the woman they were tracking up on the monitor.

“And by the looks of the hardware these gung-ho nutters are using,” Hunter added, “they’re well-funded.”

“So if this woman’s not HYDRA, what is she?” Coulson asked.

“Everything else,” Mack answered. “I mean, look at this.” He motioned to the monitor. “Two years CIA.”

“Is that MI6?” Hunter wondered.

“She really gets around,” Y/N muttered, reading off the monitor as well.

“Yeah,” Mack continued, “under which time, she was consulting with the CDC, apparently.”

“All under different aliases,” Coulson stated.

“Oh, I like her,” Hunter commented.

“Me too,” Y/N added with a smirk.

“Yeah, but how are you supposed to track down someone like this?” Mack asked. “We can’t look everywhere.”

“If we can trace that hardware,” Coulson said, pointing to the gun Hunter had brought in, “that could give us a place to start. Take that down to Bobbi in the lab.” Coulson moved over to an open briefcase underneath a red axe. “Have the team analyze it.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” Hunter quickly refused. “No, no, I’m— I’m…. Not going anywhere near Bobbi.”

“Really?” Y/N questioned. “Again?”

“Fine,” Coulson conceded. “Y/N and I will take it to her. Wouldn’t want you to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.” Suddenly, Coulson twisted off his left hand.

“Hold up! What is that? And when did it happen?” Y/N pointed at Coulson’s fake hand. “You lost your hand?!”

“Did I forget to mention that?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I know that’s sarcasm,” Hunter continued with his rambling. “And I’m choosing to accept your thoughtfulness at face value.”

“Mack, you should head downstairs,” Coulson ordered. “Assist Skye with intake.”

“Daisy,” the other three corrected.

“Daisy. Damn it. Hard for us to get used to, huh?”

“Mm… no.” / “No, just you.” / “I just found out and I seem to be doing okay.”

“Okay. So, what do we know about this Jose Gutierrez?”

“He goes by Joey,” Mack answered. “Construction foreman, motorcycle enthusiast.”

“Appears to be able to liquefy certain metals spontaneously at a distance of up to 3 meters.”

“Good thing I kept Tony home then,” Y/N commented.

“Yeah,” Mack agreed. “And understandably, that development has scared the living crap out of him.”

~~~

Mack headed down to help Skye while Y/N and Coulson made their way to the lab. As they entered, the base shook.

“New readings on the monolith?” Coulson asked Bobbi.

“Nope,” she responded. “That was Daisy firing a warning shot.” She turned to see Y/N standing next to Coulson. “Good to have you back, Y/N.”

“I’m not back,” Y/N responded. “Just visiting.”

“Anyway, there’s been no new readings, no new anything on the monolith in months. Fitz even stopped sending automated probes into that room. No one’s stepped foot in there since… Simmons was swallowed up by it.”

Coulson was staring at the monitor, showing the fed of Daisy and Mack with Joey. “This was fish oil again?” He asked.

“What can I say? We pulled the product off shelves, but we can’t track down every bottle sold. The good news, if you want to call it that, is the deadly metallic elements sank to the bottom.” Bobbi led them to another part of the lab. “So the chemical contaminating the sea life isn’t deadly to humans just game-changing for inhumans. The bad news—“

“It’s not just in the fish oil. Where else could it have spread?”

“Other sea life. With ocean currents, it’s dispersed into the ecosystem.”

“I need to know how wide a range we’re talking.”

“Fitz and I have the team working on a computer simulation.”

“That biology degree’s finally coming in handy, huh?”

“Leaving me stuck staring at screens in here for all eternity.”

“I get it. Rehab’s a bitch. At least you’re not hoping your knee will grow back.”

They had stopped in front of a few scientists working and a glass box with a hand clutching a crystal in it.

“Is that—“ Y/N started. “Is that your hand?”

“Yep,” Coulson answered.

“Sorry,” Bobbi said. “I’m just frustrated. The simulation’s taking a while.”

“Have Fitz look into this, too.” Coulson handed her the gun from earlier. “If we can figure out where it came from—“

“We could narrow the search on the mystery girl.”

“I’m sure she’d prefer mystery woman. Oh, and by the way, where is he? Y/N’s been brought in to help him.”

“Fitz?”

“He requested yesterday to do some research at SHIELD archives, but I haven’t seen him all day.”

“All call him in. He’s chasing down on last lead on the monolith.”

“I’m guessing he’s had a lot of last leads,” Y/N said.

“Yes.”

“Call him in. Tell him I’m here. If you need to, put me on the phone.”

~~~

Daisy, Coulson, Mack, and Y/N were all in the common area, watching their new inhuman, Joey, on the monitor.

“He’s going nuts,” Daisy said. “Joey’s have a tough time. The change is hard enough physically. But emotionally, it’s a whole other thing. I tried talking him down, but I blew it in here. And Mack is not exactly coming off as a teddy bear.”

“You just told the guy I’m a teddy bear,” Mack defended.

“And then you told him the best case scenario was his head blown off.”

“Yeah.”

“I need help, and there’s one person who’s better at that than anyone.”

“Lincoln?” Coulson guessed. “You really want to go there again?” Coulson headed out of the room, the others following.

“He could help with intake. Plus, he understands the physical change. He’s a doctor, whereas we don’t even know what medical treatments to give.”

“Daisy’s got a point,” Y/N agreed.

“Last time you tried to sell him on it, he wasn’t exactly buying,” Coulson said.

“I’d like to try again,” Daisy said.

“Mack, what’s your take?” The paused in the middle of the hallway.

“I voiced my feelings about letting Lincoln roam free,” Mack responded. “I’d gladly drag him in here where he can’t hurt anyone. But if Daisy can talk him in… he might actually do some good.”

“Both of you go. Requisition a flight team and a quinjet.”

“You wanna come?” Daisy asked Y/N.

“I’ll pass on this one since I’m technically here for something else,” Y/N answered, throwing a glare Coulson’s way. “But that plan doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. Now I’m wondering if this was all a ploy to get me back on the team.”

“Hey, Coulson,” Bobbi called from the lab. “Got her.” Y/N and Coulson followed Bobbi into the lab. They stopped in front of a screen with the woman pictured on it. “Weapon is a DARPA prototype. We tapped surveillance at multiple DARPA facilities, got a hit. The DC branch office. She visits every few days.”

“A routine,” Coulson said. “Tell me there’s a window where we can get to her.”

“It’s a small one. Every night she visits, she leaves at approximately 9:00 pm, with a small security detail. They’re all three dropped at the metro station on 12th. Half an hour later, her escorts buy her a coffee on the walk to the platform. But she boards the 9:35 train alone. Sits in the middle, drinks her coffee, and answers e-mails. It’s the only time she’s alone all day.”

“You’re going in to talk to her aren’t you?” Y/N questioned. “Phil, where the hell is Fitz? And why the hell am I here?”

“To help Fitz,” Coulson answered.

“Yeah, then where is he?” Suddenly, Y/N could feel Bobbi’s mind.

“Shit,” Bobbi thought, “Fitz is causing some real trouble. If only he would have stayed back like I told him to.”

“I don’t know where he is,” Coulson replied. “If I did, then you’d be helping him.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Y/N said. “It appears that I’m a little tired. While you are off meeting the woman, I think I’ll stay behind, rest and search for Fitz.”

Coulson was put off by the quick change in Y/N. “Okay… you do that. Let me know how it goes.” Coulson walked way and Y/N spun around to face Bobbi.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bobbi responded.

“Cut the crap, Bobbi. Have you forgotten that I can read minds? Where is Fitz?”

“He found a lead in Morocco,” she whispered. “I’ve been covering for him.”

“Is he safe?”

“Lost contact a few hours ago.”

“Damn it, Fitz. Give me his number. I’m tracking him down.”

“Y/N, I think that—“

“I was literally pulled out of my bed to come here. And I was really enjoying retirement. So, you either willingly give me his number or I force it from you.”

~~~

Unfortunately, for Y/N, she had never been to Morocco. So she wasn’t able to create a teleport to get to Fitz. She was working on a tablet in the common area, when the team turned on the tv. President Mathew Ellis was on it, doing a press conference from the White House.

“Good evening,” Ellis greeted. “I’m here tonight to address growing concerns among out citizens of the threats we face that are not of this world. I don’t need to remind people of the catastrophes in New York, London, and, most recently, Sokovia. Tragedies that seem to be growing in number and scale. And the organization we had in place to protect us, SHIELD, brought airships raining down in our nation’s capital.”

“Every day, new dangers present themselves,” Ellis continued, “filling our peaceful streets with chaos. By executive order, I have created a special task force to neutralize these alien threats on our soil. The Advanced Threat Containment Unit, or ATCU, will be given full license to act with whatever authority is necessary. The laws of nature have changed. And until the laws of man change to reflect that, we must do what we feel is right.”

“I’ve never liked Ellis,” Y/N muttered.

Her tablet finally showed Fitz’ flight. He was coming back. And so she’d wait. Coulson found her that night, waiting alone in the lab and joined her. Neither of them said anything. Suddenly, Fitz came through the doors, tearing off his suit coat as he worked on the small object in his hands. Rolling up his sleeves, Fitz turned and noticed the other two. They slowly come closer to Fitz.

“We’ve been waiting for a while,” Coulson said.

“Had to be done,” Fitz responded. “It’s my last shot.”

“What’s supposed to be in there?” Y/N asked, looking at the object on his desk.

“The answer.”

“You’ve thought you’ve had the answers before,” Coulson said. “I think you’ve considered every possible answer… except the obvious one.”

“That’s why you brought Y/N here, isn’t it?” Fitz continued to work as he questioned them. “To change my mind?”

“I’m only here to help,” Y/N stated.

“You thought Simmons was trapped inside the monolith, but every instrument scan showed the stone was solid all the way through,” Coulson explained. “After hearing about the Pym Technologies disaster, you even thought she’d been reduced to a microscopic level. But no evidence supported that. And now…

“And now I think—I know—it’s a black hole,” Fitz said, frustrated. “It’s dark matter made solid. It can warp space-time. It— look, regardless— okay?” He picked up the object he’d been working on. “This is gonna tell us exactly what that monolith is. So…”

Fitz slammed it down on the desk, breaking it open. Coulson and Y/N shared a worried look. Fitz took out an old, rolled up piece of paper.

“Should we scan it?” Coulson suggested. “See if the computer can decipher what the—“

“It’s Hebrew,” Fitz answered, not looking up from the paper. “It’s just one word.”

“What does it mean?” Y/N asked, stepping closer to look at it.

“Death.”

“Fitz,” Coulson carefully called, “I’m gonna make the trip to Sheffield. Jemma’s family to deserves to know that she’s MIA.”

“Ohh,” Fitz scoffed, getting emotional.

“They need to be able to move on. And so do we. You have shown so much heart, never giving up on Simmons, and I will always, always respect you for it. But look around. We need you. We need that big brain of yours and that heart here. Okay? I miss her, too. I’m having a hard time accepting it. All of it. I-I’m on my third hand. But nothing feels normal because nothing will feel normal. Y/N went into retirement, and I know she’s mad I brought her back. May took off on vacation and never came back. So I lost my right hands, too. We have got to accept it, to say goodbye. We need to say goodbye.”

“Jemma would want us to do that, Fitz,” Y/N quietly added, her voice filled with emotion. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

Coulson walked away but Y/N stayed back to watch Fitz. He was clearly struggling with this. He paused at the door on his way out of the lab before quickly going in the direction of where the monolith was being stored. Y/N rushed to follow him.

“Fitz!” She called. “What are you doing?”

He grabbed a gun off the wall and marched towards the room. Fitz tore the caution tape away and broke into the room.

“Fitz! Stop!”

Fitz shot at the container, successfully breaking through the lock and straps.

“Fitz!” Y/N rushed up to him, standing in front of him. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing. But it’s not smart. Just think about it for a second!”

Fitz shoved her aside, causing her to fall to the ground, and quickly opened the door to the monolith. He stepped inside it.

“Do something,” he ordered the rock.

Y/N couldn’t do anything but watch. She knew and completely understood how bad he was hurting. It was the same when Bucky fell.

“Do something!” He shouted, breathing heavily. “Do something!” He screamed. “Do something!”

next chapter >

For those who didn’t know, on the series masterlist there is a section that contains the one shots and answered asks for the series. One shot requests and questions are always welcome for this series.

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#tony stark x reader #Phil Coulson x Reader #agents of shield x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #aos x reader #agents of shield #Avengers #The Avengers #tony stark imagine #marvel imagine #tony stark #marvel

127 notes · View notes

hops-hunny · 3 years

Text

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 7.5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: illegal shit, guns, mentions of murder, violence,

A/N: this chapter is dedicated to puff and s0up, ily guys so much <3

“Ah I can’t believe it! It’s finally here, the big day.” Seamus said, pumping his fist in the air as they all sat in the various seats of the van. Although no one had said anything verbally, all of them agreed with the excitement Seamus possessed. Hands itching, palms sweaty, and the determination of one thousand men, they were ready. All the hours spent scoping the place out, training relentlessly with Ginny, and the what if scenarios were finally being put to use. However the one scared the most wasn’t any of the men involved with the mission, it was the timid (Y/n) going along to see her boyfriend- er friend?- off.

Wiping her hands along her pants, she let out another shaky breath as she continued to look out the window. (Y/n) had tried looking at Neville, even holding his hand but she found that she couldn’t. Fear was consuming her. She knew she had no reason to be scared, her life wasn’t in danger and from the looks of their previous work, Neville’s wasn’t either. She had even been caught in one of their missions before and had escaped without a scratch! But there was a difference between being ambushed unexpectedly versus willingly sending someone you care for deeply straight into the jaws of potential danger. The van came to a jolting stop which pulled her from her thoughts, watching as the men filed out of the car. Climbing out, she placed herself into Neville’s awaiting arms. He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers in a soft but passionate kiss.

“I’ll be fine darling, trust me. I’ve done this dozens of times.” she nodded, half assured as he stroked her cheek. ‘Adorable.’ he thought to himself. “Worst case scenario I come out with a few bullets in me which wouldn’t be the first time.” her eyes widened at that, giving him a shocked expression. He laughed some, ruffling her hair. He placed another peck on her soft lips before sighing happily. “That date of ours later is the perfect reward to a job well done. Until then, be good for me.” he winked at her before turning around, walking into the museum. She watched until his figure disappeared before climbing back into the car with Harrison and Twyla.

“Hey! Good news!” she said, turning around to look at the girl in the backseat. “Harrison said we can watch the mission from the cams. I feel like that would be good for you because you’re such a nervous wreck.” she said, patting the girl’s knee with a smile. (Y/n) nodded, smiling back at her weakly. Twyla bit the inside of her cheek as she picked at her own thoughts, looking for something. She checked the clock, eyes lighting up as she turned back to the girl. “We’ve got a bit before they initiate everything so how about we make some snacks to watch it with? I know you haven’t seen the kitchen yet and trust me, you’re gonna love it.” (Y/n) bounced her leg in excitement at the thought of the new kitchen that she had yet to see. “And who knows? Maybe if we have time you can even make something for the boys!”

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Harrison glared at the blonde agitated at the crumbs falling from her mouth and onto his shoulder. She let out another dramatic moan, licking her fingers clean of the chocolate from the brownies they had made. “Are you done yet? The mission will be commencing soon.” he said, irritation clear in his tone. She shrugged some, plopping down in the cushiony chair on the other side of him.

“Yeah, yeah. I mean if you had one of (Y/n)’s brownies, you’d be the same way.” he eyed her carefully, eye flickering from the plate of frosted brownies back to the girl. Twyla held the plate out to him, nudging him some. Harrison sighed before grabbing one, biting into it. His eyes widened as he made a noise of approval, both of them nodding in agreement as they laughed.

“ ‘S not fair you guys get to eat some of mini bosses treats while we risk our lives, but then you have to rub it in our faces? How cruel! Right George?” Fred’s voice sounded from the monitor.

“Right, how cruel!” he chimed, causing the (h/c) haired girl to giggle. Even on the monitor, their expressions matched the tone of what they were saying. Now that she had saw Harrison’s set up, a lot of the nerves had fled from her. There were numerous computer monitors along with flatscreens along the walls that had many different angles of the boys in their various different positions. The images on the screen were clear as day and in full color, live in action. Her eyes wandered to the monitor that had Neville on it who was with Ron, speaking of something she couldn’t quite hear. She gasped as his head turned, sending a wink into the camera. He lifted a finger to his ear, his voice sounding out as he did so.

“Hi petal, can you see me?” she nodded before realizing he couldn’t see her, pressing the unmute button on her own mic.

“Y-yes! I can see you, hi Nev.” she smiled some as his own smile grew, causing her chest to tighten. He waved some, sending a finger gun her way as they both began to giggle. Twyla watched fondly, smiling at the sight before her own eyes grew wide at the sight of a familiar lean blond man. She practically slammed the unmute button.

“Drayyy!” she screamed, causing the man to jump slightly at the loud noise in his ear. He muttered something before unmuting his ear piece.

“Ever heard of an inside voice, Dundee?” he hissed, causing the girl to cackle some. Even though his words said one thing, the small smile on his face said another. They were practically made for each other despite being total opposites.

“Where’s the fun in that? Anyways! I just wanted to wish you good luck. You guys have got this!” she cheered, causing the man to chuckle some as he shook his head, continuing to keep watch.

“I don’t need much luck today, I have the easiest job. All I have to do is sit and analyze, make sure no one is on our trail.” he replied, continuing to look around. Twyla rolled her eyes at his lack of enthusiasm about his job.

“You know Draco,” (Y/n) started, catching his attention, “Your job could be seen as the most important, if not the most important. If someone were to be onto you guys the whole thing could be ruined! Without you the mission would be a lot harder for everyone involved.” she encouraged, watching as he stood a bit straighter, dusting off his shoulders. Twyla giggled, muting her own mic once more.

“That little egocentric bastard. Of course that’d work!” she said, continuing to laugh before a bell sounded, causing her to give Harrison a confused look.

“It's time. The bell is signaling the start of the action.” the pair watched in awe as all the men straightened up, getting in formation. Although a lot of them were in different rooms, they were all pretty much in sync already. Right as Seamus opened the back door, Harry disabled the security system, causing a set of cameras in the room to fill with static. “Museum security cameras. I hacked them to make sure Harry had disabled them correctly. Harry, grab the tapes from the past few days we’ve been there and bring them to the back door. Seamus will be waiting to receive them to put them in one of the getaway vans out back. After that, return to the security room and disengage the power.” Harry nodded before grabbing the tapes, putting them in a sack beside him before making a brisk walk towards the back entrance. As the last of the men had snuck in, Seamus grabbed the sack from Harry before tossing it to the driver in the van.

“Excellent.” Harrison praised, looking down at the notes and plans Neville had given him to follow. Although Neville formed and created all of the plans, it was up to Harrison to make sure they flowed correctly and could work in the real world, not just paper. “George, Fred, begin trying to get people to clear the exhibit in the most subtle way possible.” he directed. They both nodded before turning to each other, smirking.

“Fire! Evacuate immediately! Everyone get out” they began to scream causing the visitors to scream as well, running and fleaing the building in hopes to escape the supposed fire.

“So much for subtle.” (Y/n) giggled out as the gingers high fived each other. As the last of people slid out, the lights in all of the museum went off, causing concern. However when the mob of people started to run screaming of a fire no one questioned the lights, joining the people and running. However, the museum curators knew something was up, sending security to be sent throughout the building. Many of Neville’s men began to appear from different corners of the museum, engaging in a fight with the museum staff, some of his men getting shot but mainly the museum staff dropping like flies.

“I’d hate to not join in on any of the fun. Ron? Let’s go.” Neville said, chuckling softly as he stomped his cigarette into the ground. They began to run, making their way to the exhibit in which the twins were waiting, already loading the objects they had marked into different cases and bags before handing them off to the cronies to take them to one of the awaiting vans. Neville high fived them before beginning to help.

Meanwhile in Draco’s hall, he was currently fighting off men. He kicked a man in the torso before lifting him, using him as a shield for oncoming bullets. Dropping the man to the ground he jumped into a split, kicking two men in the head before dusting himself off with a smirk. Blaise’s eyes widened from the vents as a man was currently sneaking up on the blond. Without another thought he hopped from the vent sending a kick to the back of the man’s head as he pulled out his dual guns, shooting two men on opposite sides.

“I could’ve gotten that.” Draco said, causing the taller man to roll his eyes.

“Right. Come on we’re done, let’s get to the van. Boss’s orders.” they both began to run, causing Twyla to cheer.

“This is awesome! Look at them go, amazing isn’t it?” she sighed dreamily, watching as they made their way into the van. Harry came out shortly after along with Seamus, leaving the three gingers and Neville in the building to finish things off. (Y/n) turned her eyes to the monitor with Neville on it as he growled, punching a man in the jaw angrily, turning around just in time to shoot the man on his oncoming left. Fred and George were trigger happy, as per usual. They were having a competition between each other to see who could do the coolest trick shot as Ron gathered the remaining things. However Neville started to walk a direction that hadn’t been in the game plan. She looked in confusion as he stopped in front of the necklace set she had been staring at the other day.

“You didn’t think I’d forget, did you? I said you’d look gorgeous in it and I fucking meant it.” and before she could unmute to respond he punched the case, glass shards surrounding his feet as he reached in yanking out not only the necklace and earrings, but the tiara as well. “I know you didn’t ask but this is more so for my own pleasure. I wanna see my princess in a crown.” he tucked the objects into his suit jacket before running out, not even noticing the bleeding in his hand.

“Nev! Your hand is all bloody, you’ve gotta get home soon before it gets infected!” she wailed out, rubbing at her face nervously. The van door slammed as he climbed in, chuckling softly as he relaxed in his seat.

“Don’t worry love. As long as we’re going on that date, I don’t give a shit about my bloody hand.”

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As the boys made their way through the door, they all were panting, breathing hard from the heavy activity they had just done. However, despite their tired expressions, none of them seemed to be upset. In fact, they all were ecstatic at the success of the mission. Besides a few scratches, cuts, and wounds, everyone had made it out safely. All of them looked up, gasping at the sight in front of them.

All along the table and counters were various different baked goods of all sorts. Pies, four layer cakes, cupcakes, tarts, cheesecakes, anything they could’ve possibly thought of, all in front of them. Blaise chuckled at the large pitcher of butterfly pea tea, happy that the woman had remembered his deep enjoyment of it. (Y/n) made her way in front of them, smiling as she rubbed her arm sheepishly.

“I thought you guys might enjoy a little snack after your mission but I couldn’t decide what to make, so I just decided to make a bit of everything. I..I hope that’s okay.” she trailed off, noticing their silence. As many pairs of arms made their way around her, she stumbled trying to maintain her up right position, giggling at the many praises and thank yous. Out the corner of her eye she spotted a familiar figure trying to sneak off for a plate. “Not so fast! I’ve gotta take care of that hand!” (Y/n) grabbed Neville by his good hand, dragging him off towards the restroom. Once they got there she looked at his hand, examining the damage.

“I know you’re going to hate me for it but, that was worth it. I’d do it again if it was something that would make you happy.” he said, chuckling to hide the wince as she turned his wrist. A lot of the wounds were still open, bits of glass in them. Sighing she shook her head, grabbing a pair of tweezers from the cabinet.

“Hold still.” she huffed out, beginning to pick out the shards as gently as she could. He winced, swearing under his breath as he tried to keep a cool composure. It was less of it hurting, and more of the feeling of his hand pulsating combined with the quick movements of the tweezers. She looked at him before back at his hand, biting his lip. “I..I’m going to do something. Don’t mention this to anyone, okay?” he nodded, curious of what she was going to do. WIthout another word her (e/c) eyes fixated on his hand, squinting at it as if she was focusing hard. Before he could ask what she was doing, his own eyes widened as his cuts began to disappear, closing as if they had never been there.

“How did- you- what the hell was that?!” he asked, a mix of freaked out and amazed. Sure he was a wizard, he had seen many unbelievable things throughout his lifetime. But nothing even close to that. She grabbed his now healed hand, tangling their fingers together.

“It’s a gene that runs in my family. They thought it had died out with my grandmother but it got passed down to me, it just blossomed later in life than it should’ve. I’m still not too sure of what it is or the extent to it, but it’s a different form of magic that I can control with my eyes.” she leaned forward into him, yawning softly. “I don’t use it often though. Only when I really see fit.” he hummed, nodding along to her words. She never failed to make him amazed by her existence and yet just when he thought she couldn’t get any cooler once again was she proving him wrong. They sat in silence, holding one another before he remembered the crown in his coat pocket. Pulling it out, he placed it on top of her head before turning her to the mirror. Although she was only in sweats, he thought she looked like absolute royalty.

Placing a kiss to the top of her head where the crown was cut out he smiled. He bowed, kneeling before her as he grabbed her hand raising it to his lips.

“Your majesty.”

“You’re such a geek, Nev!”

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#neville x you #neville longbottom x you #neville x reader #neville longbottom x reader #Neville Longbottom #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #mafia!neville #mafia!au

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creativestalkerrs · 5 years

Text

The Female Spider-Man; Part One (Peter Parker x Reader)

Summary; after years of fighting, Peter becomes aware that there is another one like him, and goes on to meet them.

Warning; some FFH spoilers, swearing, sexual themes

Word Count; 1.9K

A/N; I think this just might be my first series

“What do you mean there is another one of me?” Peter asked completely dumbfounded. Happy rolled his eyes, not wanting to explain everything again.

“Yes… There is. We never saw a case like this before. Usually, it’s within another universe, but they seem to be in ours… You could use there help, whoever they are,” Happy suggested. “They seem to be hiding out in Californa,” Happy looked at the screen, Peter standing up.

“Do you have any leads on who this person is? I… I don’t want to trust something, especially after Mysterio. What if that happens again Happy?” Peter crossed his arms across his chest, as he looked down at his shoes.

“Use your Peter tingle, make your own judgment. You’re a smart kid, Peter. Just maybe meet them first before anything. This could be huge, a multi-verse,” Happy said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Peter looked at Happy and knew maybe this could be something great. Peter went to the window and looked out, seeing New York’s skylines.

“When can I get to Californa then?” Peter asked.

“Tomorrow morning,” Happy smiled. “Pack your stuff and I’ll meet you at the house at 9 o’clock,” Happy spoke, Peter, turning around.

“I’ll see you at 9,”

Peter’s mind was racing. How could there be another like him on this earth? And why hasn’t he heard about them until now? The flight to LA was short and sweet, considering he got a private lift from one of Tony’s guys. Happy sent him an address that could be it, but he had no name or face. Peter just had to use that tingle of his to figure it out. With no leads and a 50/50 chance of having the right address, Peter was lost in LA.

Peter checked in to his hotel room, hoping that he could do some research on this ‘other Spider-Man,’ and to see if any news about them has surfaced, but it was a dead end. What kind of Spider-Man is this? Peter spent all night searching and searching, it was useless. What if this other Spider-Man didn’t even exist, then why waste all this time looking?

The lights of the hotel room turned off. Peter jumped and tried to turn them on again, they were out. The TV turned on to static and the words Have you tried _____? Peter’s eyes narrowed, looking at the words again, he couldn’t read the rest of the words. The TV turned off and the lights turned on again. What did the last part read? Fuck! Peter could sense something was off. Peter sighed as he lay on his bed. It was late and he should eat and then sleep. But Peter couldn’t get that weird feeling to go away. He should try the address. He saw it was close by to the hotel room.

Peter walked down the street, looking at the lights. LA was way different from Queens. The walk to this address was beyond beautiful it was by the beach. The ocean waves hitting the shore made Peter be at ease. The breeze cooled his skin.

He walked down the driveway, the house was huge, unexpecting that. The front door’s light was on and Peter knocked on the door, praying it could be it. The hair on his neck stood up as he heard footsteps on the other side. The door opened to see a tallish woman, in only a gray matching bra and underwear and a silk pink robe with flowers and knee socks. Peter took a double take of the women as she leaned on the door frame. He wasn’t sure what to ask. He didn’t have a name for him to give.

“Yes?” The women asked, her eyes narrowed as she looked at Peter, arms across her chest. Peter looked inside the house and back at him. She knew he was coming. “Peter Parker?” She questioned with a smirk. “Who sent you?” She slowly asked.

“H-Happy Hogan,” Peter stuttered.

“What I expected. You’re Spider-Man?” She asked.

“Um,” Peter didn’t know how to respond.

“Did you get my message on the TV? Come in, we don’t want anyone listening in on our conversation,” The women said, pulling Peter inside the hose and slamming the door. “Are you Spider-Man?”

“Yes. And who are you?” Peter asked, looking around the house. Peter then looking at a record that was framed and then her face. She looked extremely familiar.

“Y/N Y/L/N… I’ve finally found you… another one like me,” Y/N smiled as she went up to Peter.

“Y/N as in the singer?” He asked. She smiled.

“Yes… I make sure to lay low. How old are you Peter? Spider-Man seems to be around 16 I could say… I have no idea. Please, sit down, make yourself comfortable, I’ll tell you everything,”

“I’m 18… I’ll be 19 soon,”

“Hmp, same,” Y/N smiled as she went into the kitchen, Peter following. “Do you want Coke, Pepsi or?” Y/N asked, leaning into the fridge looking at Peter.

“Um. Coke,” Peter said. He was admiring her kitchen. Holy shit she was loaded. Y/N gave Peter a can. “So… are you from this earth?” Peter asked as Y/N shut the fridge.

“Yes. I’m from this earth… I got bitten by a spider, in fact, it was the same spider as yours,”

“How do you know all this?” Peter asked sitting down on the couch as Y/N joined him.

“I see you… I’ve seen everything you have done as Spider-Man… we’re connected Peter, you and I… but I never knew you… I have no idea if that makes sense because we’re different, yet, very much the same,” Y/N trailed off. Peter leaned in, confused, yet intrigued.

“What do you mean?” Peter asked. Y/N sighed.

“What color are your webs?” Y/N asked.

“White, why?”

“Mine come out black… and I have these other sets of powers,” Y/N took a deep breath and shot her webs at the wall behind Peter. Peter flinched back as he saw the black goop hit the wall. Peter never has seen anything like it. The goop landed on one of Y/N record, he got up and looked at it, at both the goop and the record. The stuff was just like his, but black.

“That’s odd…” He said.

“Sometimes it can melt stuff… like it’s acid or something but that’s only if I’m in danger and I used it twice… when Mysterio was after me,” Peter turned around, his eyebrows raised.

“How do you know Mysterio?” Peter asked. Y/N’s eyes away from Peter. She tried to think.

“He… he was my uncle… tried to kill me twice… had to use it twice. Didn’t hurt him at all… treated everyone as if he was the hero… you killed him two years ago… I thank you. I wanted to be like you, Peter. A hero. I wanted to use my powers but I never could. He knew too much, it was my fault…” Y/N began to hyperventilate, tears forming in her eyes. “I’m sorry Peter if he hurt you. I tried to stop him but I couldn’t. He wanted to be the next Iron Man and he wanted you to rule with him because I couldn’t… Thank god he didn’t know about my other ability,” Y/N took a deep breathe trying her best to keep it together. Peter sat next to her, unsure of what to say. Everything started to make sense. “I’m sorry if he hurt you, Peter, I’m sorry…” Y/N whispered as she looked at Peter who frowned.

“Hey… Everything will be fine. This is all new to me too. I didn’t realize there was another one of me till yesterday, it’s good to know someone understands,” Peter was still skeptical but that tingle reassured him that she wasn’t lying. “What is your other ability?” Peter asked. Y/N pulled her hair back and signed.

“Promise you won’t freak out?” Y/N asked.

“Nothing scares me anymore, I saw a bunch of crazy stuff… Fought a purple alien guy… went to space… Yea, I think whatever you’ll show me won’t freak me out too much,” Peter rambled as Y/N laughed.

“I can… shapeshift into things…” Y/N shut her eyes tightly, her body shaking. Peter saw her veins in her arms pop out, her nose bleeding with black goop, simpler to her webs. There Peter saw a pretty girl, changing into something or someone else. Y/N begins to scream, but trying her best to be quite so no one in her neighborhood could hear her. Peter began to see himself. His jaw dropped. Y/N fell on the floor, but it wasn’t Y/N from a minute ago. Peter rushed over to the body and rolled it over. Peter was looking at Peter.

“What the hell?” Peter asked, helping her or him or whatever Y/N was now, up. Y/N stretched her back out and cracked her neck. She looked in the mirror and saw herself, now an 18-year-old boy with her similar powers.

“How do I look?” Y/N asked, her voice relatively staying the same, but a bit of Peter’s shinning throw. Peter wasn’t sure how to respond, seeing himself as someone else.

“Just… just like me,” Peter whispered.

“This power can be useful… If I shapeshift into another superhero, I can have their powers for a short amount of times… but I lose mine, expect to shift back. So If I wanted to be… let’s say, Mysterio,” Y/N then shifts back into herself and the same process as before began to play, but with more ease. “I have to go as myself then to Mysterio, but it becomes easier. The first shift always fucking sucks,” Y/N said as Mysterio. Peter wanted to jump at her, to attack, but before he could, Y/N changed back to herself. “Don’t make me shift into Mysterio again…” Y/N groaned, sitting down. “Endless you need me too, of course,” Y/N giving him a small smile.

“That’s such a useful power… How come I didn’t get that ability?” Peter complained, sitting back next to her.

“Did I mention I test tube baby?” Y/N casually mentioned. “I had this power before our power, but since I have our power it’s easier to shift,” Y/N smiled. “What are you doing tonight?” Y/N asked.

“This and going back to my hotel room. Why?”

“You know… since I’m famous, want to join me in a party?” Y/N asked.

“I don’t know if I can… Mysterio really screwed me over with that stunt 2 years ago and I’m still kind of recovering. What if people want to attack me still?” Peter asked. Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Love, this is LA, not Queens. It will be fun, it’s just some of my friends. I’ll make sure you’ll be safe. I have my Spidey sense on you anyways. If someone messes with a fellow Spider… person, I will let them eat shit,” Y/N smiled with a twinkle in her eyes.

Peter signed. “Fine, I will go. I don’t have any party LA clothes,” Peter complained.

“Keep forgetting I’m rich. That’s not a problem,” Y/N winked.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker au #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland imagi #tom holland angst #spiderman #spiderman x reader #tom holland imagine

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fragmentedink-archived · 5 years

Text

Hell to Pay: Part Eight

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII

cowritten by: @lux-scriptum

A/N: Trigger warning for past abuse mention

Lev spent the rest of the ride with his eyes shut, trying not to let his back hit the seat behind him. Even the slightest jostle hurt. Well. Hurt more, anyway. At some point his tears had dried up, leaving him exhausted all over again. He didn't want to sleep, though. Maybe this was a fever dream, a misguided attempt of his subconscious at comforting him. Maybe when he opened his eyes, Remi would be there, standing over him.

When the car stopped, though, it wasn't Remi that got him out of the backseat. It was Cameron and Nik on either side of him. Lev's legs barely held him up, and dark spots flashed in front of him, but when he tried to stand on his own, he only ended up stumbling.

Nik grabbed his arm. "Quit being stupid." He sounded panicked. "You're going to make it worse and get yourself killed."

Lev's head spun, and his stomach lurched. It didn't help when Cameron picked him up, heaving him over his shoulder. Lev gave up, going limp. He hurt too much to fight it, and something told him Cameron wouldn't have the patience for it anyway. The smell of blood was strong, so Lev knew he must be bleeding still. Maybe Nik was right. Maybe he was dying. The only thing Lev wondered was if it was such a bad thing after all.

For a moment, Lev knew nothing, and then he realized he was stretched out on a cot. He pressed his face against it, taking shallow breaths, and trying his damnedest to focus enough to figure out where he was. He could hear angry voices. Voice, really.

“You bring me your pet angel and want me to heal him? I thought angel healing was superior to ours. But I suppose you want me to heal him because you're fucking him. He-” Whoever it was, her voice was cut off, and Lev heard a solid thud not a moment later.

Despite how much it hurt, he lifted himself enough to zero in on Cameron, who had a demon pinned to the wall by the throat. “Heal him,” Cameron was saying, voice low and a rolling purr. “Or I will have no use for you.”

Lev’s arms trembled, and he gave up, sinking back down with very little grace. A soft whine escaped him despite himself, and stars danced in his vision. If the demon had anything to reply to Cameron’s threat, Lev missed it entirely. It was a struggle to stay rooted in the here and now, to not let himself burrow under the pain and lose himself in it.

The demon’s fingers were cool against Lev’s raw back, startling him back to reality. He flinched automatically, and then whimpered. Moving was definitely bad. At least the fresh pain cut through his drifting.

“This will hurt,” the demon above him said, right before she dug her claws into his tender flesh.

Hurt didn’t begin to cover it. Lev’s voice cracked with the force of his cry. If he’d had the strength he might have arched off the cot. Instead he twitched, sobbing hoarsely through the whole thing. The other side was just as bad, and he tried not to think that she dug her claws in just a little more than necessary. He tried, so hard, to get himself under control, but even after she pulled her claws from his back, one by one, the final time, he couldn’t stop his sobs. He hurt, and even if it was over, the clearheadedness the lessening of some of the pain only let him remember every moment of what had happened to him clearer.

Cameron really should have just left him there. Lev only brought more trouble than he was worth.

---

Cameron knew his back was most likely shredded to pieces and by the look of Sazra’s face, she was completely and utterly pissed at him. But she wisely kept her mouth shut and sank her claws into his back. She gripped his shoulder, sinking them in deeper than necessary. If it had been literally anyone else, Cameron might have killed them. Part of him was tempted, to kill her for this stunt, but it was hard to find a good healer, one he trusted in his household. So he endured it.

He bit back his groan the best he could. It had been an insult to her, letting Lev heal him. He knew this. And the pain raking through his back made him start to regret it. Though, that was probably her intention.

His back spasmed through it all, stars and static prickling his vision. He blocked out Lev’s sobbing, but it was as distracting as it was useless. Nik was still at the doorway, leaning against the frame. He wouldn’t come in here, even if his own life was on the line. The room was far too small for Nik. “Do you know whoever it was that Lev was talking about?” Cam wheezed.

Nik rubbed his face and combed his fingers in his hair. “Kinda. Friends of friends. That sort of thing. If I had known Remiel, I probably would have put a knife in his dick. So.”

“You need better friends,” Cameron muttered. He spasmed at the fresh claws in his other shoulder. Was that necessary, he almost demanded. But he bit his tongue and nearly choked on it when she pressed harder.

“If you keep at this you will cause permanent injury to your back. Is that what you want?”

“You keep giving unsolicited advice,” Cameron countered, mildly. “Is having your tongue removed something you want?”

Sazra fell silent and finished her work without another word. The people in his household had certain privileges, but speaking out of turn was not one of them. And his patience with her was drawing thin as it was.

Lev’s crying had mellowed by the time she was finished with his back. She said, “Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?”

Cameron slipped from the table. “Not at this time. Be prepared for multiple sessions with the angel. Beyond that? Nothing.” Cameron slipped over to Lev’s side and carefully sat him up. He could barely tell what kind of wounds he had sustained from the blood coating his skin. “You need to get cleaned up. Come on.” He needed to get that other angel’s scent off him.

Wiping his cheek with the heel of his hand, Lev carefully climbed down from the cot and stumbled out the door. He mumbled a painful ‘thank you’ and Sazra, despite looking displeased, seemed startled by his appreciation. Thank you weren’t demon words. Hell, they weren’t even angel words. Except for maybe Nate. But Lev was just. He was Lev. Who apparently felt the need to thank a demon who healed him to the point of excruciating pain, but at least he was now capable of walking on his own.

Nik guided Lev back towards a washroom. Cameron debated on going with them, but he was already grasping at straws and he didn’t want to inadvertently make it worse. Either for Lev or himself. Lev made a small, helpless sound when Cameron started down the opposite hallway, but he mostly ignored it and went to his bedroom.

Cameron looked at himself through the large floor length mirror. Black and gold blood coated his skin, his clothes, his hair. His skin crawled and he went to scrub it off himself in the shower. He scrubbed and scrubbed until it felt raw and he felt clean. When he got out, his entire body was sore, but at least he wasn’t covered in blood anymore.

Cameron knew his back was once again covered in bruises, and he didn’t care. He had a disaster waiting for him and he wasn’t going to deal with it now. He wanted to sleep, and take a break from this hellscape. He shifted into his demonic form and padded across the comforter to the silken pillows still on Nik’s side. He inhaled the sandalwood and ocean scent as he kneaded the pillows with his needle-sharp claws. He snuggled deep into the shredded remains and put his head on his tail.

-----

One thing Lev could admire, even full of pain and exhausted to the bone, was that Cameron had large bathrooms. Well. Cameran had large everything in this house, but still. He let Nik lead him towards the tub, eyeing it tiredly. Cameron wanted him cleaned up. Lev was certainly liking the idea; he could still smell Remi on himself, even under all the blood. Still, he didn’t know that he could do much right now.

He realized he didn’t have to when Nik turned on the water for him. Lev blinked, and then moved to sit down on the toilet. After he pressed his face into his hands, he realized perhaps he should breathe. Right. Breathing was important.

Only when Lev heard the water shut off did he look up, moving to stand unsteadily. Pants. He couldn’t get in with them on. Nik’s hands steadying him were welcome, but Lev couldn’t bring himself to lift his gaze. He didn’t turn down Nik’s help in getting undressed the rest of the way, though. The old blood had dried hours ago and new blood had dried on top of that, caked his jeans to his skin. He didn’t think they’d be any use to him now, and even if tears wouldn’t come anymore, his eyes still burned.

Nik helped him into the water, and then moved to get undressed. Lev ducked his chin, trying to fold into himself when Nik joined him. Best not to take up too much space. He picked at some blood that was flaking off his arm, but it wasn’t long before Nik picked up a rag and went at him, scrubbing him down with an intensity that startled Lev into looking up finally.

He knew that look. Nik was anxious. Worse than anxious. Lev stared, letting Nik manhandle him however he wanted. Even if Nik was a little rough, making Lev wince and suck in a sharp breath every once in a while.

“Nik?” Lev croaked hesitantly. “Nik.” He fumbled for a second, not wanting to get in Nik’s way enough to upset him, before he grabbed Nik’s hand. “Nik. I’m- I’m okay.” He pressed Nik’s hand to his chest, blinking tiredly at him. “I’m- I’m here, and I’m okay.” He wasn’t dying anymore. That had to count for something.

Nik yanked his hand away, staring right back. “Are you?” He all but growled. Lev flinched back. “You look half dead, and you left me a note.”

Lev swallowed. “I- I wasn’t supposed- I was- I thought I was being paranoid. Nothing ever comes- nothing ever happens when I get- and I was going to come back-”

“Were you, though?”

“I was!” Lev straightened up. “I don’t lie, Nik. I just- I wanted something of me, if I was going to stay. I cant keep wearing your clothes, and- I was going to grab my favorite mug, and- I- the- don’t laugh, I was going to grab the stuffed cat my mom gave me.”

“Then why didn't you ask for one of us to come with you? Why did you leave in the middle of the damned night? Cam said you didn't feel safe so you do the dumbest thing possible and go back to your house without any kind of back up.”

Lev looked down. “You were both mad,” he said softly. “And it all sounded like things I didn’t... need. I just... wanted. I figured I could lock the doors and be okay for one night. I didn’t know if Rem- if he knew where I lived. I worry and I worry, and it never comes to anything. I didn’t want to upset you both, but- I felt like- like an intruder, or a pet, or- I didn’t belong here. I don’t belong there, either, but at least it was a little space full of me. I wanted to bring some of that back with me.”

Lev wasn’t expecting Nik to flinch. “Just- Stop talking.” And then he went back to cleaning Lev off.

Lev wasn't sure what he’d said, was a little afraid to make things worse. He let Nik scrub him down, at least for a few moments longer, before he touched Nik’s wrist lightly. “Nik- Nik, I-” He hesitated. He had no right to ask this. None, none at all. “Nik, I know I don’t- but could you-”

“Just spit it out,” Nik said.

“I know I don’t deserve it, but could you hold me? I- please? I need- I need it.” There. He said it. Already guilt was worming its way through him, ice cold.

Nik’s stare was heavy, and Lev tried not to squirm under the weight of it. “Yeah,” he finally said. “But not in this tub.”

Lev closed his eyes briefly. “Thank you,” he said faintly. He let Nik go back to scrubbing him in peace, bowing his head slightly. He’d gotten his yes, and he trusted Nik to keep his promise. Anything else didn’t matter.

When Nik finally finished, Lev watched the water drain as Nik got out to find some towels. He felt guilty all over again for hoping Nik was a little gentler with the drying. He felt raw all over, and he just wanted to curl up and let Nik hold him until he could bear to unwind from the ball he was sure to end up in. The moment Nik reappeared with towels in hand, Lev unfolded from the tub and got out, trying not to wobble.

Nik was halfway through toweling him down when he paused, staring at Lev’s shoulder. “What the hell is that?” He said quietly.

It took Lev a second. He reached up, tracing the scabbed over bite marks, before dropping his hand as if burned. “R- he didn’t-” Lev swallowed hard. “He didn’t want me to forget. Who I belonged to, that is.” It felt like the bottom of his stomach dropped. “He said- I thought it wouldn't matter. That you- you two wouldn’t care, no matter-” He could feel his voice getting smaller. “He said any other alpha wouldn’t want me if I was already claimed. I didn’t think- I hoped- you two wouldn’t-” He ran out of words, and just stared at Nik’s chest rather than look up.

He didn’t realize how much he expected Nik to reject him until he felt Nik’s hand on his chin. Before he could figure out what Nik was doing, Nik sank his fangs in, right over the bite Remi had left. Lev sucked in a breath, and went loose, eyes wide. Nik pulled back, fixing Lev with a fierce look. “You’re mine. You’re Cam’s. Remiel can go fuck himself. We’ll deal with him later.”

Lev’s bottom lip trembled. He lurched forward, wrapping his arms around Nik’s middle. “I don’t want to deal with him. I want to forget he exists,” he mumbled against Nik.

“Expect to be bit by Cam the moment he finds out,” Nik warned. “He doesn't like his things touched.”

Lev found he could live with that. He tilted his head, shoving his face into Nik’s neck. “I- okay.” Maybe admitting he’d like that was too much. Instead he breathed deep. He was safe, and Nik didn’t want to leave. Lev could handle just about anything else.

“Lev, did he do anything else?” Nik asked.

Lev pulled back, blinking up at Nik. It took him a second, but it clicked after a moment. He shook his head. “No,” he promised faintly. “This was- it was a punishment for- for knowing better than to date a demon again. He wanted something that would last. That I couldn't forget.”

Nik loosened up. He nodded to himself, Lev had to assume, before saying, “Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

It wasn’t night yet, but Lev nodded anyway. He was exhausted, and he wanted this day to be over. As if that would make it not exist. He followed Nik tiredly, and tried not to wince when he climbed up onto the bed. For all he’d said he didn’t belong here, he felt a thousand times more safe settling under the duvet with Nik beside him than he ever had in his own house.

Nik, reached for him, pulling him close. That was all the permission Lev needed to wrap himself around Nik, hiding his face against Nik’s shoulder. He waited for the tears to come, but all he felt was a faint, aching pressure that, for once, he could ignore.

Maybe that was for the best.

---

Late that night Cameron had found himself moving from his bed and going to sleep in his demonic form on the edge of Lev’s bed. He had found Lev and Nik curled up against each other, taking up only one half of the mattress. Lev’s whimpers during his nightmares didn’t do any favors for his own. But at least he could keep himself contained better as a fox. Out of his form, they’d either have been bitten or dead.

He woke up a few hours later, not getting much sleep at all and had given up on it entirely. He was nursing his third cup of coffee when Lev stumbled into the kitchen. He was naked, black hair a mess around his head. He hesitated long enough at the doorway that Cameron said, “Will you sit down, already.”

Lev promptly sat down across from him, staring down at the counter as he reached for a piece of fruit. He nearly dropped it when Cameron said, “What happened to your shoulder.” It was bruised a dark golden that had been covered by blood last night. Now it was just stark and blaring at him like a bright light.

“It- Remi. And then Nik,” Lev stammered. “They bit me.”

Cameron’s growl echoed through his body. He really needed to find this Remi male. He was already moving before he had the chance to reconsider. Lev bared his pale throat almost as if it were purely instinctual submission. Or maybe it was an offer. Cameron unceremoniously sunk his fangs in Lev’s flesh.

Lev went pliant under his teeth, fingers resting on Cameron’s hip. Hooking his fingers around the back of Lev’s neck, Cameron sunk his teeth down as far as they would go. Lev’s soft, relieved sigh was a dull whisper in his head compared to the blood in his mouth. Cameron wasn’t sure if this would scar or not, but he honestly didn’t care. Nik had his own scar on his own throat.

He flicked the wounds shut with his tongue and pulled back. Lev lightly touched the bruise now on the other side of his throat. Cameron put an apple in Lev’s free hand, saying, “Eat,” while he went back to his coffee on the other side of the table.

He stared Lev down until he took a bite large enough to satisfy him before picking his coffee back up. Cameron licked the remaining drops of blood from his lip before finishing off the dregs in his mug. “I’m going to be gone for a few hours,” Cameron said. “Do not leave this house. Do not open the door to anyone. Tell Nik he’s to stay here, too.” And make sure you don’t leave.

Lev blinked owlishly at him. “Okay,” he said, in a small voice. And in an even smaller voice, he said, “I shouldn’t have left in the first place.”

Cameron felt his eyes go unwillingly to Lev’s shoulder, as if he could see the scars that were going to be permanently imprinted on his back. “You really should have listened to me,” Cameron said, flatly. But he turned his attention back to the steaming hot mug lightly burning his hands. “When I get back we’ll get you some clothes. You can’t keep wearing ours.” Or. He could. But he suspected Lev wanted his own clothes, and to not be constantly wandering around in their shirts without any pants.

Lev gave a small nod before he started nibbling on the apple still in his hands. Cameron had the feeling Nate was going to deck him the moment he laid eyes on Cameron. And. That seemed pretty par for their relationship. He wasn’t fond of Cameron sleeping with his brother, but Cameron couldn’t care less for Nate’s opinions regarding what either of them did with their own bodies. Though, Nate probably more was concerned about feelings than orgasms.

“If I leave, are you going to finish eating that apple?”

Lev blinked up at him. “Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

Lev frowned down at the apple. He was sure that there were tears pricking behind Lev’s eyes; he looked a few moments away from crying, anyways. “I’m not hungry.”

“Eat half of it,” Cameron said. “You didn’t eat last night. Or probably all of yesterday, either. So eat.” When Lev kept looking at the apple and not responding, Cameron added, “I will be disappointed if I find out you’re not eating.”

Lev’s head snapped up. Cameron knew how this worked and he knew when to push it if he had to. Lev nodded at him and returned to his munching. Cameron watched him for a few more seconds before saying, “I’m leaving. Leave the apple core on the counter so I can see it when I get back.”

“Okay,” Lev said, between nibbles.

Cameron put his mug in the sink and went back to his room to get dressed. He managed to get himself into a pair of black pants and shoes. He stared at his shirts for nearly five minutes before going ahead and putting one on, but that took him another ten minutes. He had it buttoned and a jacket on in another ten.

Cameron finished getting ready and stopped at the sentry by the door. “If anyone other than those who are supposed to be in this house come in, kill them.” When she nodded, Cameron went out to his car and drove the thirty minutes to Liwen. He got to the large manor house his half brother lived in, walked past the guards and knocked on the door.

It was a few moments of waiting until the door finally opened. The easy smile on Nate’s face instantly vanished and he swung, punching Cameron hard enough it shattered his nose. “What the hell do you want.”

Cameron wiggled the bridge of his nose, ignoring the rush of blood down the back of his throat. “Feel better?”

“I’d feel better if you were dead,” Nate said flatly. “What do you want.”

“I’d like to see my brother,” Cameron said. “But you seem to be busy being petty.”

Nate blinked, and clearly it was the wrong thing to say. “He almost went into labor for you saying what happened to your angel was his fault. So no, I am not being petty. As a matter of fact, I’d say I was being very, very merciful. And Baylor isn’t having any visitors. So you can either tell me what you want, or you can go.”

“I want Remiel delivered to me when you find him.”

Nate folded his tattooed arms over his bare chest. “You said this happened in Liwen and was Baylor’s fault. So no, when we find him, we will decide what to do with him.”

“That’s cute,” Cameron said. “And do you think you can make him suffer enough for what he did?”

Nate’s cold smile could lay waste to the entire city. “Do you want to find out?” Nate stared him down long enough, Cameron wasn’t sure that he’d let him through the threshold. But he wasn’t leaving until he spoke with his brother. “I will give you five minutes. If he so much as raises his voice, you are gone.”

“Whatever,” Cameron said, pushing past him and going down the halls. The sentries posted went to the blades at their sides, the dirty looks on their faces suggesting they wouldn’t mind stabbing him a few dozen times. But that was the angel way. Brutes. The lot of them.

Except for Lev, it would seem. And most of the time, Nik.

He made it to the door but it opened before he could get a hand on the knob. A black haired, blue eyed angel nearly ran into him. Silas staggered back a step and stared at him a bit. “What are you doing here?”

“Do all you angels recycle through the same questions?” Cameron asked. “Or are you just incapable of independent thought.”

Silas straightened. “It’s a legitimate question,” he said, defensively. “Demons aren’t supposed to be here.”

“And yet, here I stand,” he said, dismissively. “Now move. I want to speak to my brother.”’

Silas’ only answer was folding his arms, rooting his feet in place. Clearly he wasn’t going to do the smart thing and move. Silas looked past him, towards Nate, for direction. If it were up to either of them, he wouldn’t be seeing Bay at all. If Cameron wanted, he’d just sneak in here because this was ridiculous. But he supposed he deserved it after upsetting a pregnant omega.

“Tell him to move,” Cameron said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Nate sighed. “Let him in, that way he can leave.”

Silas did not look happy as he followed Nate’s order. Cameron gave him a small smile and shouldered past him, ignoring the pain shooting through his back as he went inside the bedroom. Bay was sitting in bed in a large pale blue shirt that was clearly not his, watching some movie with spaceships. He put the movie on pause and glared up at Cameron. “What the fuck do you want.”

“I want Remiel.”

Bay stared blankly at him. He couldn’t read a damn thing on his face or in his scent. Bay just turned back to his television and turned it up loud enough the sound vibrated off the walls. Cameron stepped in front of the television to draw his attention away, but when that didn’t work, Cameron unplugged the television. Bay countered by picking up his book and turning to the middle.

Cameron went to take a step forward, but Nate’s warning growl stopped him in place. He sighed. If he wasn’t injured and Bay wasn’t pregnant they could have dealt with this by now; he figured Bay would jump at the chance to give him a solid right hook- literally. “Are you really going to be that pissy. It was a false labor.”

Bay had zero reaction besides the lights flickering throughout the room. He snuggled deeper into the bed and turned the page in his book. “Silas, do me a favor and open the window,” Bay said, completely ignoring Cameron.

“Three minutes,” Nate reminded.

“Acting like a child,” Cameron muttered. He ignored Nate’s further growl, and Silas’ very clear amusement, and yanked the book out of Bay’s hands.

A lightbulb shattered. “Give. Me. My book. Back.”

Cameron smiled. “Give me Remiel and we’ll call it a fair trade.”

He could have sworn black lightning crackled under Bay’s skin. “Remiel is an angel. And, as you so clearly stated, what happened to Levant, was my fault.” Another lightbulb blew out. “Which means his punishment falls under my jurisdiction. I will give you just this once to get out of my house, right now, before I electrocute you out of sheer pettiness.” When Cameron didn’t move, Bay’s eyes moved to Nate. “I want him gone.”

Nate didn’t need further prompting. “Time’s up.” He hooked his ringed hand in Cameron’s arm and yanked him backwards out of the room. The television was on a few seconds later, as if Cameron had never shut it off to begin with. “I told you,” Nate said. “But no, you had to go and make my mate upset. Again. If I decide to let you know about Remi, I will. But with how much I very much dislike you, I’d say that was a hard nope. Now get out.”

Cameron weighted that. He was a single demon in a house with several archangels pissed as hell at him. If they so choose, they could wipe him off the face of the planet. And then some. “Noted,” Cameron said.

He pushed past Nate and had gotten to the front door when he heard someone run up behind him. Cameron didn’t bother looking over his shoulder when Silas appeared in front of him, tucking in his pure white wings back behind him. “Wait.”

Cameron humored him. “Well?”

Silas quickly said, “Bay wants his book back.” Cameron looked down at the book still indeed in his hand, and threw it at him. Silas easily caught it, and in an even faster, edged voice, “andIwantedtoknowaboutLev.”

Cameron rose a brow. “If you can't speak basic words we’re done here.”

Silas turned from concerned to annoyed. “Is Lev okay?”

Cameron sketched a brow. “His wings were just carved off his back by a jealous ex. Would you be okay?”

Silas blinked, and looked like he had been punched in the gut. “What- what do you mean ex.”

Cameron sighed. His patience was wearing thin. He didn’t care about Silas’ clear feelings regarding his omega and he didn’t feel like humoring him anymore. He opened the door, but Silas’ shadows snapped it shut. “Cameron.”

“Silas, I do not give a fuck about your one sided feelings. Do Lev a favor and move on and stop hounding,” Cameron said mildly. “And open the door for Gods’ sakes.”

An uneven, blotchy flush spread across Silas’ face. “Listen,” he said, “I just need to know he’s gonna be okay. I don’t give a fuck if he feels anything for me anymore. I just. Want to know he’s happy.”

“Levant is very happy having two males fuck him whenever we feel like it. At least he certainly has for the last week,” Cameron said, a grin curling on his face. “I satisfy everyone, Silas. And I have been for centuries.”

Silas looked like he was struggling with his alpha, and was most likely wanting to rip Cameron to shreds. His fingers were bone white. He waited for Silas to say something, anything, but his shadows retreated and the door unclicked. Silas turned on his heel and walked away, stiff as a board.

Cameron snorted and left.

----

Lev stirred, snuggling closer to Nik. There was no reason to be awake, not really. He pressed his nose to Nik’s neck. Lev sighed softly, shifting again. It was at that point he realized Cameron was in the doorway. He blinked at Cameron, trying to wake up enough to say something.

Cameron left before he could.

Lev dropped his head on Nik’s shoulder. So he didn’t want to stay. Maybe Lev should have left it at that. He didn’t want to, though. It took him a few minutes to roll out of bed, but he managed it. He left the covers with Nik, and padded off to find Cameron.

It took him a few minutes to find him, though in retrospect he should have known Cameron would be in his bedroom. That’s where Lev would hide, anyway. Lev lingered in the doorway, eyeing the empty spot on the couch beside where Cameron was seated.

After a few moments of debate, Lev shuffled over to the closets. He eyed them both, weighing the pros and cons, before he reached inside Cameron’s. He was careful as he pulled a shirt down, trying his best not to disturb the rest.

When he turned around, tugging the shirt on, Cameron was engrossed in his book. Lev didn’t miss the glance he sent Lev’s way, but it wasn’t unfriendly, so Lev made his way over to the couch, and flopped down. That was enough he winced, muffling the grunt of pain he gave. Right. His back. He curled up, settling as close to Cameron as he dared, head near Cameron’s thigh.

“I ate,” he finally said, not looking up. “I made a sandwich. After you left.” Not that he’d been hungry, but he figured it’d make Cameron happy.

“Good. I’m glad you’re eating.”

Something warm fluttered in Lev’s chest. He rubbed his cheek against the couch and then tucked his nose against his chest, breathing in the scent on Cameron’s shirt. “Did you get what you needed done? While you were gone?”

Cameron sighed. “Actually, no. Petty angels are making my life more difficult than it needs to be.”

Lev considered that, finally looking up. “Angels can be very petty,” he agreed. “I’m sorry they’re not helpful. I doubt most would like you very much.”

Cameron’s laugh, though small, was enough to surprise Lev. “Oh, the feeling is mutual. Tends to happen when we spend eons killing each other.”

Lev blinked. “It always seemed like wasted effort to me,” he finally said, ducking his head rather than make eye contact. When he settled, he pretended it wasn’t conveniently even closer to Cameron.

“It was. But angels do like proving they’re above everyone else.”

“I don’t,” Lev said without thinking. He winced, holding as still as he could, bracing himself for Cameron’s reaction.

“I don’t think you know how,” was all Cameron said.

Lev relaxed. So he wasn’t mad, then. Good. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if Cameron had actually been mad. He pressed the top of his head against Cameron’s thigh briefly, the closest thing he could come to an actual thank you. It was an easy out, because he didn’t think Cameron would understand what he was trying to say.

He closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh. It took him a few minutes of working himself up, listening to Cameron turn pages in silence, before he finally gave a soft, "Cameron?"

"Hmm?"

Not annoyed. Good. Lev sucked in a breath, and said quickly, "Can you touch me? I- you don't have to, I just- contact. It... helps."

Lev waited long enough he dared to look up, and found Cameron looking down at him, his expression considering. Lev looked away again, but a few moments later Cameron's fingers slid through his hair. Lev relaxed, all but going limp. He closed his eyes again, trying to get his thoughts to slow as well.

In the end, though, he finally said, "Can... can you still smell him?" He swallowed. "I can. I mean, I think I can. I could for months after I left him, but- but that's not really possible."

Cameron's hand paused in his hair. "You want me to fuck you?"

Lev's heart sank. He failed to keep his voice from cracking as he looked up. "So you can smell him?" He itched to go crawl in the shower now, and scrub until he was flushed gold all over. It was one thing to think he smelled it, and another to know he wasn't just imagining things.

"No," Cameron said. The relief Lev felt was cold. "But if you can. I'll fix it."

Lev considered that. He swallowed once. "I... I don't think I can do... not rough. Not tonight." He couldn't shake the memories, and even though he could still feel Cameron's hand on the top of his head, he could feel the ghost of other hands too.

"We don't have to have sex at all, if you don't want."

At least he could trust Cameron about that. "It-" He dug his fingers in the couch. He wanted to be honest, but he didn't want to sound like he was angling for anything either. "It's not the sex. I just- I like it rough, but I can't. Not tonight. But if not- not rough means no sex, then I'd rather that. At least you give me a choice."

"Do you want sex at all?"

Lev blinked. "Yeah," he finally said. "I like it when I smell like you. Both of you. When you're in me. On me. I feel safer."

"Then tell me exactly what you want, and I'll do it."

"Why?" Lev blurted, sitting up in surprise.

"Because that is my job."

"But you're the alpha," Lev stammered. "Omegas are supposed to- I'm supposed to keep you happy, not the other way around. He always said-" He broke off, fingers clenching as he closed his eyes.

Cameron said, his tone as cold as ice, "Remiel is a bad alpha and the only opinions you should care about are mine and Nik’s. Not the ones of someone who ripped your wings off."

Lev stared at him for a long time. He was right, and deep down Lev knew it. Finally he said, "I want you. I want you both. I want to- to smell like yours. I want to know he didn't ruin me."

Cameron looked down at him a bit, considering Lev. When he did speak, all he said was, "Okay."

Lev expected something more. When nothing else was said or done, he eased back down, curling into himself. After a moment, he felt Cameron's hand in his hair again. And for now, that was enough.

@idreamonpaper @livvywrites @incandescent-creativity @firesidefantasy @solangelo3088

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #wip boost #hell to pay #my writing #cameron and nik and lev #ch: cameron #ch: nik #lev #amwriting #original writing

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chezzkaa · 6 years

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Numb pt 23

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Lumberjack AU Pairing: Ryan Haywood x Reader WC: 3500+

Date posted: 25 Nov 2018

“Are you sure you guys don’t need our help?” Trevor asks for what feels like the hundredth time, shuffling his feet and shrugging on a thick black trenchcoat. Fiddling with the sleeves, he casts glance to his girlfriend that makes it undeniably clear that he doesn’t intend on offering his time to the cause. The quirk of an eyebrow challenges her disapproval.

Lauren gives him yet another exacerbated look, taking the challenge in her stride. Hands on her hips, she serves him a look that would have you wincing if you were on the receiving end. Trevor doesn’t shrink away, rather enjoying himself. “Don’t even think about leaving, asshole. We need you here.”

Alfredo nods, looking as though he understands what you’re saying until he opens his mouth. “Well, if you insist.” He readjusts his sweatshirt, making sure his neck is completely engulfed by his red scarf. He hits you with a cheeky grin, lips hidden beneath the fabric. “But don’t pretend like we didn’t offer.”

“You didn’t offer!” you reject vehemently, “and you’re not even listening to us!”

Trevor looks offended, scoffing at the prospect while latching on to Alfredo’s arm - who’s equally insulted - and yanking open the door. “How dare you? We’re going to the tavern, you funky witch bitches, where our talents are appreciated.”

“They’re appreciated here,” wails Lauren, motioning to the sheer size of the task that’ll take over the night.

“Nope, we can tell when we’re not welcome,” interjects Alfredo, clutching his chest and pulling a pained expression. “C’mon Treyco, let’s get outta here.”

Trevor nods firmly, turning on his heels and storming out into the snow, yelping as the cold settles across his skin. Alfredo suddenly looks a lot more apprehensive, taking a moment before following with a hollar, “We’ll drink drink your share, don’t worry!”

“Oh really?” You laugh, watching them traipse through the garden on unsteady feet, wobbling with every hole they slip into. Knees hitting the ground, forcing laughter from their lungs and smiles across their faces. “What a generous offer!”

“You fucking know it!” yells Trevor heroically, beaming back to the lodge, “don’t forget the sacrifices we’ve made here today!”

“Welp, they’re gone and I hate you.” Lauren’s voice doesn’t waver, certain in her statement as she closes the door after a moment, your friends having been swallowed in the night. “I hate you so damn much, Y/N. Do you have any idea how hard it was to carry all this shit back from the library?”

You smile, settling in the firelight cast across the livingroom floor, tea warm against your fingertips. “You made it home though, didn’t you?”

Lauren follows your lead, sighing into her seat. “Barely,” she snorts, “I nearly died.”

“Really?”

“Not at all. Right, where do you wanna start?” She motions to the left of you, battered books clinging to life and enough dust that your throat burns. “Over there we’ve got the handwritten journal of our ghosty friend, and over there we’ve got town records right the way up to the time her son ran Motbury.” She directs your attention to a collection of binders, surprisingly small in comparison to the amount of information you expected. “Not much, right?”

“Yeah,” you frown, flipping through the closest folder, only to be met with architectural plans and a few lackluster excerpts. You could take better notes in your sleep. “Lots of stuff about how he protected the town… That’s kinda really fucking weird. There’s nothing after that.”

She nods, hand running through her hair before she taps her cheeks a few times, determined to stay awake. It’s only once she’s settled and finished rubbing her eyes that she realises her coffee sits on the counter. She frowns. “And the night just got worse.”

“What are you talking about?”

She motions to her cup, your gaze following the saddened expression she throws across the room. A flick of your wrist sees her mood brighten, concentration burning your palms and static in your fingers while the mug rattles excitedly against the bench. Another smooth motion sees her drink lift, your hand pulling the air like a long string until it reaches you. Across the carpet, threat of spilling mounting to an uncomfortable peak before gently coming to rest in front of Lauren.

She grins, relieved when plucking it from your control and taking a sip. A sigh escapes into its depth, rumbling happily. “Oh yeah, that’s the good shit.”

“You’re welcome.”

She peers over the rim, already brightening. “Your Granddad would be so disappointed. ‘Kids these days and not using their legs! Grumble grumble, I’m so old’.” You cackle, her impression knitting her eyebrows together and flattening her lips into a thin line. The short, sharp jerks of her shoulders punctuate every grouchy exclamation, and a finger jams her glasses up the bridge of her nose so roughly you can practically hear them clatter against her skull. “What next, huh? ‘Back in my day we punched each other for fun. Burnt women at the stake for friend-zoning us’.”

“Stop,” you wheeze, putting your tea down before it can spill. Between laughter she flicks a spark into your cup, contents steaming once again. “Granddad was so old.”

“He knew Jesus, right?”

“He probably cursed Jesus for trespassing on the footpaths. That old fucker was the worst.”

“The worst,” she agrees firmly, snatching at a page and bringing it up to a settling expression. “Speaking of the worst, you got a light?” Lauren asks, straining at the handwriting she attempts to scan for the third time, squinting through her glasses.

“I mean… you got health insurance?”

“In this country?” she scoffs, “hell no, why?”

“Well,” you start, rubbing your hands together, “I could give that light thing another go.”

Her eyes narrow critically, and Lauren shuffles further away. “That crap from the other night? That you scared the bear thing off with?”

“Almost bear, yeah.”

“No,” she rejects, “no no no. You’re gonna fucking shoot me.”

You roll your eyes, offended but completely understanding her lack of faith. “C’mon, it’ll be fine.”

It takes her a moment to reply, but she doesn’t seem any more convinced. “Have you been practicing?”

Your slow response doesn’t fill her with confidence, her groan ruining your attempts to get her on side. “Nope. This’ll be a great time to practice.”

“I’m going to die,” she laments, slipping further in her seat.

“You’re not going to die.”

“Yes I am, oh god. This is it. This is the end…” She sits back up, beaming eagerly. “Well, go on then. Least I’ll die cool.”

“Gimme a fucking minute, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. In your own time, but soon cus we’ve got shit to do.”

“Don’t make me curse you out,” you murmur, attention already drifting.

Staring at your hand, tracing the curves of silver scars and lost in the clusters of ink staining your palm like stars across a night sky, you start to remember. It’s small at first, the feeling. Gentle and timid, pinching in your chest. But warm, surprisingly. Nothing like the searing cold that has surged through your fingers and buckled your elbow. Nothing like the freezing desperation that’d seen seen it fountain from your being like a burst damn.

Because you’re not afraid this time.

And why would you be? Clinging to the sheer fact you’ve done this before, on an admittedly larger and uncontrollable scale, is all you need. You can feel it. Like the light is trapped between your ribs, uncertain, but undeniable. Almost like the warmth of the first sip of a hot drink after walking through the snow, comfort pooling in your chest and stretching throughout your limbs. The thick blankets that come along with winter, or the roaring of a well established fire.

“You’re glowing.”

Glancing up, Lauren is watching you attentively. Eyes glued to your shoulders, her expression caught in the moonlight emanating from your skin. You smile, and airy laugh accompanying your excitement. “I can’t believe this.”

“You’re a night light.”

“Does it help?” you ask, shuffling closer to her to ward off the shadows the night is chasing across the documents.

She nods. “A little.”

The motion happens before you realise you’re doing it, focusing on the redirection of the light. It burns as it follows the lines of your veins, stinging at the wrist before it glows so brightly in your hand that you’re left squinting. A quick flick of your fingers disperses the light, scattering it towards the ceiling where it clings to the air. Suspended and glittering like stars caught by the roof.

“How about that?”

“I - holy fuck! Y/N, this is amazing! You know what we should do?” You can’t quite tear your attention away from the small balls of light, questioning her logic through numb lips. “We should order dinner!”

You rock back, your smile so broad your cheeks hurts. “Fuck yes we should.”

“Can I get HSP?”

“Nope.”

She slumps, groaning in a lackluster flail of limbs. “Ugh. What even is life?”

Tossing a journal at her, you grin. “I’m fucking kidding! Do you really think I’d live somewhere without HSP? I’m not a monster!”

“I want wine.”

“We can get wine.”

She thinks for a moment. “And whiskey.”

“And whiskey.”

“Looks like Ryan was right,” Lauren says eventually, feeling no need to hide her disappointment. She slumps in her seat, head resting on the couch while she shares her grievances with the ceiling. “We haven't learnt anything new. Gotta admit, your lumberjack lover is thorough. You and Michael may have figured out that the story is linked to all this, but this Turner person is useless.”

The weight on your shoulders grows heavier, anxiousness scratching against your ribs. Frustration clinging to the hair your force from your face, scalp lined with the effort to sooth yourself. A swig of whiskey doesn’t help. “There has to be something, Lol, there’s a truth to every story somewhere. We can't just give up.”

She bristles through a sip from her glass, though barely. “There's only so many times we can read about some woman and her rambling tea habits. I mean, fuck, who drinks this sort of shit?”

“I do,” you reply, offended and rosy cheeked.

“You're the only one.”

Then it hits you, knocking the air from your lungs with enough force that, if you were standing, you'd buckle into the realisation. Lauren sees the shift, watching the energy that had been draped across your shoulders dissipate. Breaking away and fracturing into golden shards as you rock onto your knees.

You're eager, enough to have her waking up from the sleepy alcohol stupor she's almost ready to let take her. “You're right, that's it!”

“What’s it?”

“The tea - the bloody tea thing! You said that I'm the only one that drinks that sort of shit.”

Her brow furrows, struggling to follow as you start rifling through the pile of information. “You and Turner, yeah.”

You emerge beaming, clutching the journal Lauren had tossed aside in disgust. “And what did you mean by shit?”

“What?”

“Type of tea, Lol. What makes up the tea?”

“Herbs and weird flowers and that kinda gross stuff.”

You nod, not even bothering to correct her on the subtle act of tea making, or calling out her strict reliance on camomile or sugarless coffee. Instead you're smiling, flipping through the pages. “Why?”

“Why what?” She pulls a face. “I swear I am going to kill you. It’s too late for this shit.”

“Why do I use those ingredients?”

“Cus they're fucking awful and you hate yourself? C’mon, Y/N. Just tell me!”

Fingers drum against the file, incessant while you stare. When she doesn’t respond your eyes roll. “Witches drink tea.”

Lauren’s face goes blank, eyes widening and eyebrows disappearing beneath her unruly bangs. Her mouth opens with a small pop, hands starting to flap as excitement sees her bouncing. “Witches drink tea!”

You smack the folder to punctuate the point, rocketing to your knees and shuffling over to her as fast as you can. Thrusting your file under her nose, you tap at the margin lined with tea recipes. “Exactly! Witches drink tea. This is the type of stuff I drink when I’m feeling paranoid.” You pull it back, flipping through the pages. “Look, she’s got teas for calming, teas for sleep, teas for cleansing, teas for all emotional healing-”

“That’s crazy!” Lauren exclaims, yanking the closest free journal over and scanning for herself. “The tea shit is everywhere.” She snaps the book shut, moving on to another that’s exactly the same. “Holy fuck.”

“Ugh, I can’t believe it’s taken us this long to figure that out. It all looked normal to me,” you manage, lowering the text into your lap and sitting back down, fingers tangled in your hair while you stare out the window. The cold screams back, faint whispers of snow caught in the lights glowing outside. “It’s kinda sorta really fucking weird. You reckon she was a proper witch, or that she was just really good with tea?”

Lauren makes a weird noise, shrugging. “I dunno, I’m going with no, though? Tradition carries a lot of weight, and recipes and tea properties are used by people without magic all the time. Turner hasn’t done anything remotely witchy that I’ve noticed. Shame the son didn’t keep any journals. There’s nothing from him in this pile. You’d have thought that if your mum was actually a witch you’d want to write some cool stuff down.”

“Moira was incredibly thorough... Her whole life up until her disappearance is here. All we’ve got on the son - oh god, what’s his name?”

“We don’t have a name.”

“Great,” you groan, “brilliant. Fucking fantastic. All we’ve got on no-name-Turner is stuff from his mum and the other crap from the town plans before it all just stops. There’s not even any mention of markings on doorways and stuff.”

She nods, frustrated and exhausted. “Great. We’ve got tea recipes and a man that just disappeared along with his record keeping skills-”

A loud crash cuts her off, the rattle of a lock and smack of a door knob hitting the wall followed by a quick succession of frantic footsteps pounding down the hall. But it’s nothing in comparison to the roarious laughter. Alfredo and Trevor stumble through the door arm in arm, tripping over their feet and bouncing against the entryway. Silly beams split across their faces when you and Lauren glance up, Alfredo breaking away and collapsing on the couch, somehow managing to shove his hand cheekily across your face in the process. The surprise has your concentration shattering, along with the orbs of light you’d managed to keep strong up until this point. Though the alcohol had seen them lower, most of the light having hovered around your elbows rather than dusting the ceiling as they originally had. They dissipate quickly now, dropping the room into the firelight.

Trevor wastes no time in launching forward, letting his momentum carry him into Lauren’s lap despite her half hearted protests, curling up in her arms and determined not to move. “Hey there baby,” he muses sleepily, lost in the smile she presses to his forehead. “Did you miss me?”

“Miss you?” she laughs, running her fingers through his hair, “not at all.”

“It was actually really nice,” you confirm, leaning against Alfredo’s shoulder, “I haven’t had peace and quiet in a long time.”

“Nahh,” Alfredo groans into the couch cushions, turning to face you. His expression crushes, balling into something so comical that you can’t hold in the sniggers. “You missed us. You always miss us.”

“Shut up,” you groan happily, batting away the hand he uses to mess up your hair. “You shut the hell up Fredo, or I’m kicking your ass to the curb.”

“Fine,” he exclaims, sitting up suddenly, “but we made friends, Y/N. New friends. Better friends. One of them was a cop-”

“A drunk cop!” Trevor chimes in too close to Lauren’s ear, causing her to bite back a wince.

“A drunk cop!” Alfredo agrees, swinging his arm around. “And there was a coffee man with this… this beautiful hair. And a British person! I’ve never seen a British person more English than he was.”

“Made up words,” coos Trevor, flailing in Lauren’s arms, “made up words he did!”

“He did! You know what?” Alfredo glares, the expression not quite holding the same accusations they would if he were in the least bit sober. “I’m gone go stay with Gavin. Ma man will look after me.” He moves to stand, swaying as he swipes one of the journals from the top of a pile, squinting at the spidery writing like he’s forgotten how to read. “Maybe I’ll take him this damn book as some firewood, huh? Huh, Y/N? How’d you like dat? Fucking kick my ass to the curb, you animal. You… wait - what is this? This thing that I’m holding?”

Lauren doesn’t miss a beat, smiling sweetly into his confusion. “Alfredo, that’s a book.”

He blinks hard at her, leaning into the motion and holding his eyes closed and eyebrows together for far too long. “I know what a book is.”

Trevor nods into the crook of Lauren’s neck, nuzzling into her like he’s desperate for warmth. She spares him an unsympathetic pat on the head, giving his hand a firm squeeze. Trevor can’t hide his grin. “Sauce can’t read.”

“I can read!” Alfredo wails dejectedly at his drunk friend, offended. Returning to the page that seems to have insulted him so much, he jabs a finger to it’s margins. “I’m talkin’ bout this crazy chick. She’s as weird as you. Yes, you, Y/N. Look. Look, are you looking? Looky. C’mon, just look! See? She’s does the same crazy shit that you do!”

Only minorly outraged, you press a disgruntled frown to your face. “Crazy shit? Rude.”

He pays you no mind, continuing to sway while he fails to grab your hand - not once, but twice - before pulling you unwillingly to your feet. Gripping his elbow to ensure he doesn’t clatter to the ground, you make sure he’s steady before peering at the passage he keeps indicating too. “Well, look,” Alfredo starts, “this bitch be doin’ these weird ass symbol things that you do.” A clumsy finger drags down the side of the page, gliding over ink splattered and familiar illustrations. “See? You see dat? Look at dat… you looking? Dawg, just look-”

“Yeah,” you reply, cutting him off. “Yeah, I’m looking. I didn’t, wait - how didn’t I notice these? This changes everything.” Your attention breaks away from the page, settling on Lauren. She watches you, equally shocked. “This means that Moira was a witch.”

“Course she was a witch!” reprimands Alfredo, “your lumberjack man even told you it was a witch hunt.”

Lauren scowls, struggling around Trevor until eventually standing. He doesn’t want to follow, but reluctantly does; gripping the couch like a lifeline. “Yeah, but the people in witch hunts weren’t actually witches. They were just poor women that we’re caught up in stupid superstitious bullshit. And Turner didn’t do any of the usual shit people used to accuse witches of.”

“So that means she can’t be a witch?” Trevor questions, paling slightly with the churn of his stomach. “How closed minded.”

Alfredo nods eagerly in agreement. “You two see this shit every day, so course you didn’t recognise it as weird. Us normal fucks don’t. This bitch is a witch!”

A hand you can’t deem to be excited or nervous shifts through your hair, brushing away the exhaustion of a long night. You stare at Alfredo, watching him vibrate proudly. “You’re kidding,” you manage around an incredulous laugh, “we spent hours doing this. Hours! We found the tea thing, but we couldn’t pin that to a witch properly. And then you come stumbling in here and do it in 2 minutes?!”

Lauren grins. “That means I can go to bed!”

Your face falls. “It means we’ve got a lot of stuff to do-”

“Bed!” she reiterates, snatching Trevor’s hand and making her way towards the stairs without a backwards glance. “C’mon, Trev, we’re celebrating.”

Alfredo watches them go, offering a clumsy wave to his friend before turning back to you. He looks awkward, pleading. “Please, I don’t wanna celebrate.”

“Hurtful, but mutual,” you agree. His face brightens in relief. “You want a hot chocolate with marshmallows?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, scampering towards the couch and curling up on the cushions. “By the fire with blankets.”

“Done,” you laugh, collecting a bunch and unfurling them over him, watching his face gleefully reappear from beneath the throws. He’s grinning, cheeks threatening to split. Childhood innocence oozes from the expression, eyes sparkling in the light. “We’ll watch Brooklyn Nine Nine?”

You didn’t think it were possible, but he smiles even wider. Wiggling in his spot, he can’t hold in the excited squeal that follows you into the kitchen, sound lost in the sound of the kettle and clatter of cups. “Y/N, you’re my gurl!”

Smiling, you don’t have to turn around to know that he’s already drifted off to sleep.

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writingpaperghost · 3 years

Text

There is a Me Who Can Become Strong (Chapter 19)

Chapter 19: A Sudden Fantasy!?

It's time to defeat Kuroto's Bugster! But something's weird about this one...

I have updated the tags. For this chapter at least, the Suicidal Thoughts, then we have mentions/implications of the Experimentation and the Emotional/Psychological Abuse. If that bugs you, just skip Emu's scene at the end of the chapter, it's the only one he has so it's easy to find. I'll summarize it at the note at the end.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32857183/chapters/84134380

When Emu Hojo was eight, his life changed, due to several events. First, he was hit by a car, then he met Doctor Kyotaro, then, he made a new friend. He’d been alone in the hospital, still unsure of what to think, when a voice that had interrupted his surprise of being at the hospital, spoke again.

“Is this what you do all day?” The voice asked, “Sit around in a bed and do nothing but play games?”

“No,” Emu said quietly, “I’m usually at home.”

“…Then why are you here?” The voice asked in a bored tone, “Why don’t you go home?”

Emu just frowned, “I’m not allowed to leave until they’re sure I’m all better,”

“That’s boring,” The voice said, “I can’t wait until you get out of here.”

At that comment, Emu’s brow furrowed, “Who are you?” He asked, “And why don’t you leave on your own?”

The voice didn’t immediately respond, “Well… I can’t leave? I guess I’m just in your head, so I can only go when you go.” He’s quiet again, before finally introducing himself, “Uh… I guess I’m… Huh… Uh, Parad? Parad sounds nice.”

That was the day that Emu and Parad first met. The day they last saw each other was much different. Genius Gamer M had just won a tournament, his opponent a twelve-year-old going by Genius Gamer N. They were leaving, when for one reason of another, most likely the doing of some outside force, he fell and was knocked out.

When Parad awoke, it was in a static haze. He’d shaken his head and it finally cleared; he realized a strange thing. He had a body – that obviously wasn’t Emu’s – and then he saw a horrifying sight. There were people dressed in all white, on the ground, glitching. He stared at them and then they’re gone.

Looking around the room, he can’t see Emu. He makes the logical assumption, no matter how painful it was for him. Parad assumes that he killed Emu, because that was the logical conclusion given his information.

At that moment, he made his decision. Emu had held the dream to be a doctor, to make people smile, to be the beacon of light to children that Doctor Kyotaro had been to him. Parad would fulfill his dream, even if he had to do it as Emu.

When would be the next time that Parad and Emu met? Next it would have been… Perhaps one of Gemn’s appearances, certainly no later than when Kiriya had tried to prove that Kuroto was Gemn. Yet Parad hadn’t realized it. The very person he’d built his life around, for the past six years, had been alive the whole time and when he was finally faced with him again, Parad hadn’t realized. It took Kuroto telling him, Kuroto declaring to everyone…

“M – Parad,” Nico placed her hand on Parad’s shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts, “I know this is a lot but… But we have to do something about Kuroto.”

Saki already knelt at Kuroto’s side, saying something. Nico leads Parad closer and he begins to focus on what Saki is saying. “Kuroto, you’re our patient now, regardless of what you’ve done,”

“Don’t bother,” Kuroto quietly said, “It’s a waste of your time.”

Nico huffs, “Idiot, we’re going to fight the Bugster infecting you and then we’ll cure you.”

Kuroto pulls himself into a sitting position, “No, you won’t. It doesn’t matter if you defeat the Bugster-” He grunts in pain as the glitching continues, “-I’ll die either way.”

Parad can see the screen displayed by Saki’s Gamescope. Kuroto was infected with Shakariki Sports, but that wasn’t the strange part, given it also showed he was infected with Perfect Puzzle and Knockout Fighter. Unless the stethoscope was wrong, his infection level was already at sixty-five percent and rising.

“What do you mean?” Saki inquired, deep concern flashing on her face.

Grimacing, Kuroto answers, “I was infected by Mu. That’s all there is to it. Just… Just know I didn’t have a choice in this.” Looking away, Kuroto pulled the double Gashat out of his coat pocket, holding it towards Saki. “Take this, it should help you.”

After staring at the Gashat for a moment, Saki takes it, “I don’t understand,”

“You don’t have to,” The laugh that accompanies that statement is bitter, “We’re all pawns in a game that we don’t have a choice in playing.” He gasps.

The infection’s rose to seventy-five percent. “Please, just… just try to help Emu, He doesn’t know the truth of what’s going on. He doesn’t understand the stakes of the game – not as well as he thinks he does.”

With one last cry, a Bugster, Charlie appears, already separating from Kuroto. Yet, something was wrong with Charlie. Visibly, he still had a large amount of glitching over his body. But there was something else, nagging at Parad. There was something just… Just wrong, about Charlie.

Nico glances at Parad, “Hey, you gonna be good, or should Saki and I handle this?”

He shakes his head, “No, no, I can handle this.” He pulls out his double Gashat, Saki takes out the Gashat that Kuroto has just given her, and Nico holds Drago Knight Hunter Z and Bang Bang Shooting.

Perfect Puzzle!

Taddle Fantasy!

Bang Bang Shooting!

Drago Knight Hunter Z!

Dual Up! Get the glory in the chain, Perfect Puzzle!

Dual Up! Tadoru Meguru RPG! Taddle Fantasy!

Do-Do-Drago Kni-Kni-Kni-Knight! Dra! Dra! Drago Knight Hunter! Z!

The armor of Brave Level 50 was not unlike the armor that was Fantasy Gamer. It was dark red and purple, with a long cape in the same colors. Ready to face Charlie, Nico jumps forward, slashing at Charlie, who dodges out of the way.

Parad’s about to join, when a strange sound comes from Saki. She grunts and the eyes on her helmet flash red. Around her, Bugsters appear, quickly turning their attention towards Nico and Parad. She grabs her head with a grunt.

From behind them, Parad can hear Kuroto call out, though weak, “She’s being influenced by the Gashat. Since she’s unused to using such power, it’ll be taxing on her body and hard to control.”

Shaking her head, the red disappears from Saki’s eyes and she turns her attention back towards Charlie, the Bugsters following suit. Nico hadn’t initially noticed what happened and now stared at the Bugsters in confusion, then shook her head and returned to dodging Charlie’s attacks.

Refocusing, Parad watched for a moment as Charlie destroyed all the Bugsters with little issue. That was another thing. Usually, the Bugsters they fought were Level 5, that had been the case with the past three, at least. But Charlie didn’t seem like he was only Level 5, it seemed like he was stronger than that.

Charlie rushes at Saki and Parad, prompting Parad to dodge out of the way. Instead of dodging, Saki raises her sword and blocks, then pushes Charlie back and slashes him. Parad begins to arrange the power ups, while Saki continued to fight Charlie.

Off to the side, Nico huffed, “You two are getting all the fun,” Then she glances back at Kuroto, who at this point was lying on the ground again, his body glitching more than ever before. “We’re… we’re going to need to be quick.”

Parad just nods, focusing on the arranging the power ups into the perfect combo. Charlie briefly knocks Saki back, prompting Nico to fire at the Bugster, attempting to hold him back. Finally, Parad’s has his combo in order, combining strength and flexibility power ups. Saki inserts the Gashat into her Gashacon Sword.

Perfect Critical Combo!

Taddle Critical Finish!

The two attacks land on Charlie, who briefly glitches, before being destroyed. A cloud of purple data rises from him, then seemingly rushes off in a direction. Dropping the transformation, Parad sighed and relaxed slightly. Though the attempt at relaxation is interrupted by Nico.

“Uh, now I’m no expert,” She calls, “but I don’t think he’s supposed to keep glitching, right?”

Saki and Parad both whirl to face Kuroto, Saki rushing over to him, Gamescope already in hand. She scans him, only to see that the infection has continued to rise, even though they’d just defeated Charlie. He should be cured but…

“I told you,” Kuroto grunted, “I would die no matter what you’d do.”

“Why?” Nico groaned, “Would it kill you to be less vague?”

While Parad thought it was probably a poor choice of words, he also thought he knew the answer. “Because Emu was the one to infect him. And Emu’s Patient Zero, so the strain is different than any other time we might have encountered the Shakariki Sports strain,” He takes a few steps towards Kuroto, looking at the man, “Emu infected Hiro, right? That’s what he said to Saki.”

Yet instead of answering, Kuroto just sighed, “You need to find him,” He insisted, like that wasn’t already a high priority on Parad’s list, now that he knew that Mu was Emu and he was still alive. “Before… find Emu before he does.”

That’s the last thing that Kuroto said, before he too disappeared in a cloud of glitching pixels. At first, no one’s sure what to say.

Finally, Saki quietly says, “He disappeared so quickly,” She looks down and her fists clench, “Just like Hiro.”

There’s a silence again, until Parad just falls to his knees.

“M?” Nico called, “Are you alright?”

“I… I thought he was dead. I thought I’d killed him.” He’s trembling, his shoulders shaking as he continued, “Everything I’ve worked for, becoming a doctor, a Rider… It was because I wanted to make Emu proud. I wanted to fulfill his dreams for him. But now… Now he’s just been alive the whole time?”

Saki takes a step towards him, “Parad…” She quietly begins, “You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have known. I should have looked for him, after we were separated. I just saw the scientists and assumed!” Though his head is facing down, making his face hard to see, Saki saw the glistening tears that began to fall down his face, “He doesn’t even – I’d have never of even – what happened to him? Why would he work with Kuroto? It’s just not like him!”

“We don’t know what happened to him,” Nico reminded, “It’s very possible that whatever’s happened to him may have changed how he feels about certain things. Besides, didn’t Kuroto say that Emu doesn’t know what’s really going on?”

Though Saki soon added, “Though we don’t know how true anything Kuroto said is.”

Parad just shakes his head, “I just… I…” He sounded almost defeated when he finished, “I don’t know what to do.”

Walking to his side and placing a hand on his shoulder, Saki responded, “Neither do we,” Then she reaches in front of him, holding her hand out to help him up, “But we’ll figure something out. We’ll find Emu and we’ll learn what’s going on, we’ll find a way to help him, to show him the truth about what he’s doing and what we’re doing.”

Hesitantly, Parad takes her hand and stands. “Let’s… I need to go home. Today’s been… Way to long.”

Nico grins and walks up, gently hitting him on the arm, “You do that,” She gestures to Saki, “We’ll tell Kagami and Taiga what happened.”

---

Emu doesn’t know what to do, he just ran and ran until he just couldn’t run anymore. He killed Kuroto. Just like he’d caused Graphite’s host to die, or more accurately, like how he killed Lazer. But his legs couldn’t keep going anymore, so he just falls to his knees, panting. He’s tired, his head hurts, he wants to pass out but he knows how dangerous sleep could be and he knew he couldn’t just do it anywhere.

He wanted Graphite; someone he could depend upon. But he didn’t know where Graphite was and he knew that if Graphite had been watching he most likely would have already appeared. So Emu would just have to make it back to his and Kuroto’s – to his base on his own. He just had to make it a bit further…

But he couldn’t get up right now, all he could do was take solace in the fact that the Riders hadn’t followed him and were instead dealing with Kuroto’s Bugster.

He was so terrible. He’d infected Kuroto, his own brother. Kuroto wasn’t even wrong about how he was a disappointment. Emu was more than a disappointment, surely. He was a failure. God. He didn’t even want to think about how he’d have to talk to Masamune about this. Emu would have to tell him that he killed Kuroto. Certainly, Masamune would be upset.

Emu shivered, he didn’t like Masamune when he was upset, or more accurately described, disappointed. He could already see the look in Masamune’s eyes, and he could already see the scientists and the doctors with their cruel expressions and excruciatingly slow actions. He could feel the punishment already, the heartless laughter as the scientists and the doctors slices into his skin with slow and painful cuts, all across his body.

And that was only from the scientists… the only time Masamune ever did something himself was his punishments. Given how badly he must have messed up, Masamune’s punishment would surely be so terrible. It would be so much but… But it would be deserved, he’d done something wrong and that meant he had to be punished.

There was no avoiding it, Emu had accepted that long ago.

He wasn’t calm, not in the least. But he’d managed to get himself under control enough that there weren’t Bugsters everywhere, at least. Though he began to tremble the more he thought about it, the more he realized how badly he messed up. Not like he didn’t do that a lot, but he was certain that this is one of the worst times.

The first time had obviously been Zero Day, and now he’d messed up terribly again. No one would be happy with what he did. Maybe even Graphite would shun him for this. Emu was so terrible, he almost hoped that no one would find him, so he could just – just…

Emu should just die.

He’d accepted that too.

Footsteps echo in front of him, making him freeze. He was still so tired, but he knew he shouldn’t have stayed here so long. Now someone had found him. At best, he could just convince whoever it was to leave him be. The far more likely and worse outcome was that they’d do something and touch him. He wasn’t sure that he could keep himself from infecting them, there was no way he was that calm.

“Emu,” He recognized that voice. Emu’s head whips up, wide-eyed, seeing that Masamune stood before him. “What happened?”

Emu shakes his head frantically, “I’m sorry!” He sobs, “I’m so, so, sorry! I-I!”

“Emu,” Masamune repeats, holding his hand out to Emu.

He stares at the hand a moment, hesitantly raising his hand, about to take it, before he shakes his head again and remembers whathe is. Emu would certainly infect him if he took his hand, just like he’d done to Kuroto. “I’m sorry! I infected Kuroto!” He’s probably shaking worse than before, now, “I killed him! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

At first, Masamune is silent. Emu’s certain that he might have messed up even worse than Zero Day. He’d messed up so badly, Masamune probably wouldn’t even want him around. Masamune would probably just give him to the scientists and doctors and then that’s all Emu would ever know. They’d just try to cure Game Disease that way.

Maybe it was the better way. Finishing this game was hard for a lot of people and put so many people in possible danger. Maybe Emu should just take it. Just take the pain and everything that the people dressed in white did to him. Surely it would be better. They’d be able to more easily find a cure. Emu shouldn’t be so selfish, to not want to experience that. To rather try something that was no guarantee when it was at least partially, if not more, his fault that Game Disease was as bad as it was.

Masamune grabs his hand, eliciting a startled gasp from Emu as he was pulled up. Emu can feel Masamune’s eyes on him, “Emu. My son threatened you, did he not?”

Slowly, trying to keep himself from shaking too much, Emu nods. Masamune continues, “Then there is no one to blame but himself, certainly not you.”

“But-!”

“Emu. You are far more important than him anyway. I’m not mad, if that’s what you fear,” Emu realizes that Masamune’s began to lead him somewhere. He’s not sure where and frankly, he’s too tired to care too much. If it was somewhere safe, where he could rest, then that was all that mattered, at this point. “We still must complete the game, after all.”

“Of- of course!” Masamune still has ahold of his hand when Emu answers, “So we can cure everyone!”

Nodding, Masamune glances at Emu, “Yes, including yourself. Then you won’t have to worry about this ever happening again.”

“It… It won’t take much longer, will it?”

“No more than a couple months, I’m sure,” Masamune’s answers makes Emu feel a bit better. Really, knowing that Masamune wasn’t mad at all was a great relief. That meant that he probably wouldn’t be sent back to the scientist and the doctors. That he wouldn’t be punished for killing Kuroto.

Maybe… Maybe Emu wasn’t so terrible.

---

The summary for Emu's scene:

Emu's upset and is taking infecting Kuroto badly, fearing that he'll be put through more experiments. Then Masamune shows up and assures him it's fine, he doesn't mind that Kuroto has died, Emu's more important. Then he reminds Emu the game must be completed, to which Emu agrees, ready to get back to work soon enough.

#kamen rider exaid #kamen rider ex aid #kamen rider #my writing #there is a me who can become strong

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lubdubsworld · 7 years

Text

J Hope x Reader tumblr prompt.

Pairing : Jhope( Jung Hoseok ) x Reader

Genre : Mild angst

Prompt. :

“My showcase is scheduled for the weekend...Friday evening at seven.” Hoseok whispers against your lips, fingers gripping your bottom through the skin tight jean shorts as you straddled him, grinding down on his crotch as you grin into the kiss. Somewhere in the background the TV plays static noise, there’s a light drip , drip from the faulty faucet in the kitchen and the distinct scratching from out side the mesh door leading to the balcony.

Mickey probably wants to come back in.

You pull back to smile fondly at Hobi.

“Babe, I told you I will never miss a showcase and i meant it. Dad’s going to be pissed though. I have another party to attend on Friday.” You wrinkle your nose and his grip on your ass tightens, a bit on the painful side and it hurts a little.

But in a really, really good way.

“What did he say?” Hoseok asks and it’s cute, the little bit of hurt nervousness in his tone. i also makes your heart ache because you know that Hoseok really wants to win your parents over. He wants to be good enough in their eyes and no matter how much you try to convince him otherwise, he always thinks he has something to prove.

“Oh, you know. The usual. I’m not supposed to be in love with you. I’m supposed to find some chaebol...” you roll your eyes. “ But don’t worry, I’ll sneak out and try to make it back as quick as I can.”

Hoseok hums but then the spark in his eye sort of fades. You lean down and catch the lobe of his ear between your teeth , trying to bring the mood back but Hoseok is distracted and you can’t help but sigh, clambering off him and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Stop it..” You sigh.

“Stop what?”

“Stop thinking it matters. Whatever my parents say or do.. it doesn’t even matter, okay? i love you. I want to have your babies.” You reach out and impishly squeeze his thigh, the solid weight of it familiar and arousing . “ That’s all that matters.”

Hoseok laughs a little at that and lightly boops your nose.

“ i want you to have my babies too. i think they’ll be cute. Like you. ” He says but the insecurity still shines through his gaze.

You kiss him again and he pulls away hesitantly.

It’s nothing new,

You’ve been dating for five years, going six and you’re already twenty four. He’s twenty seven and by all acoounts you should be able to make your own decisions now. But your father was one of the rich guys in the country and he had a bit of a public image as well.

It’s important to him that his future son-in-law should be someone of good financial and social standing. Not a dancer/ rapper with tattoos and piercings. But all that is just the surface, you think, moving to open the door and letting mickey in. The important thing is that Hoseok is incredibly kind, hardworking and so good for you. You’ve never been the sort to receive affection easily, always wary of poepl trying to get close just because your parents are rich.

But Hoseok’s different.

in the six years that you’ve been together he’s never let you spend a single dime on him. Hoseok’s old fashioned in his beliefs that the man should support his woman and you indulge him most times.

You open the door, the familiar creaking echoing through the house.

The adorable pup quickly shuffles in , moving to jhope and you stare around at the one bedroom apartment with the makeshift Music Mixing table thingy and and the dance studio and the countless music equipment.

It’s a bit cramped.

Your own home is about twelve times bigger.

But everytime you have to leave this place for the night, your heart breaks. Every inch of this place is special to you , because every inch of it screams Your relationship.

The stain on the carpet from when he’d accidentally dropped your anniversary cake.

The little crack in the wall from when he’d actually made love to you against it. It was after his first showcase, you had both been too horny and impatient to crawl the five feet or so to the bedroom.

And the slightly crumpled wallpaper because of the shoddy work you had both done on it. You catch sight of a small bit of subtance on the wall and lean down to pick at it with your forefing.

“you heading home?” Hoseok asks, nuzzling Mickey. You feel your throat close up at that.

This is home, your heart whispers.

This is where i belong.

“Is this your cum? Did we fuck here as well?” You frown, sniffing at your finger and Hoseok groans, grabbing a throw pillow and tossing it in your face.

You laugh and he joins in and that’s all you need sometimes. To be able to make the boy you love laugh. Even when he had a million reasons to be sad.

“I love you.” You say seriously and the warmth in his face is palpable.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

And you realize that home is not a place.

it’s a person.

And for you, home is always Jung Hoseok.

~~~~~~~~~

When Thursday rolls around, you find yourself stuck in yet another of your mother’s kitty parties. When it ends she tells you to let ‘ the handsome Kim boy’ to drve you back and you want to scream. Kim Jun Myeon isn’t exactly bad or anything but the’s got a massive crush on you and he does a really, really poor job of hising it. And to make matters worse, you need to go to hoseok’s studio.

It’s bad enough that you’re wearing one of the girly , flowery summer dresses that Hoseok thinks are too pretentious and now if you show up with Junmyeon ( who’s wearing a fully formal button down and steam pressed slacks, wtf) you can imagine how much the other boys are going to tease you about it.

But your maother has that look on her face which tells you that ‘ I know that it’s hard for you to stop disappointing but for once in your life listen to me or I’m going to smack you”

And yeah, you give in .

Jung Myeon tries to engage you in conversation but the boy is awfully boring. Or maybe you’re just used to a level of energy fater six years with Hoseok and every other guy just seems incredibly bland to you these days. Whatever the reason, you can ‘t actually hold your attention and fater a while he gives up.

When you finally pull up in front of the studio, you flinch because there’s a spare set of shorts and cropped top stuffed in the lacy white bag over your shoulder. You had hoped to change into it before seeing Hoseok.

But Hobi is already waiting outside the studio, helmet sitting in his lap as he straddles his bike, leather jacket slung over his shoulders and graphic white T shirt saying something like ‘ Blood and sperm all over the place “

When Jun Myeon gets out to open the door for you, you can physically feel the burning intensity of Hoseok’s gaze. The oblivious idiot actually hugs you and you push him away weakly.

“You should leave...” You say urgently even as Hoseok carefully buckles the helmet to the bike and climbs off the bike. He looks like he’s a second away from throwing Junmyeon against the floor and punching him.

“Who’s this? “ Jun Myeon clearly has no sense of self preservation and you groan as he stares at Hobi.

“I’m the guy who made her scream multiple times last night. And who the fuck are you?” Hoseok growls.

You can’t fully smother the squeak of disbelief that bubbles up.

“Hoseok.. what the actual fuck.. .. Oppa, you should leave..”

“oppa?!! Are you fucking kidding me right now? “ Hoseok glares angrily and you press a palm to his chest, glaring.

“Just leave.” You hiss at Jun Myeon and the other boy finally frowns and moves away .

“Y/N! i’ll pick you up tomorrow for the party...” Jun Myeon says and Hobi growls next to you.

Once he leaves you round on Hoseok.

“What the hell, hobi?!”

“Shouldn’t i be asking you that?! You fucking called him oppa!”

“You hate it when I call you that!!” You say surprised.

“Yes, but i hate it more when you call someone else that!” He shouts back.

You gape at him.

“Oh my God! You’re jealous!!” You laugh in disbelief and he snarls at you.

“I’m not jealous! Why the fuck would I be jealous of that pastel pink jerk?”

You smile and grab his wrist, yanking him close and pulling his arm around your waist.

“EXactly...Why should you? Like you said, you’re the one who gets to make me scream..” You whisper , tip toeing and kissing his lips . The taste is oddly familiar and you frown.

“Oh my God.. are you drunk?”

Hoseok frowns.

“I may have had a few shots...” He says grudgingly. You stare at him in disbelief.

“What... Why?” You whisper in surprise.

Hoseok sighs.

“Are you ashamed of me?” He says finally.

“What?”

“I’m always calling you to my showcases but anytime there’s a thing with your parents... you find yourself one of these straight laced bastards to tag along with...”

You gape at him, too stunned to respond.

“Hoseok.... You..i just didn’t want to make you do something you don’t want to... “ you whisper, feeling oddly hurt.

“I know, y/n. I just...I need some time to cool down. Come on, Let’s just go home.” He walks away without looking back and you stand there feeling very upset.

When you reach home, he goes into the studio and doesn’t even come to bed. You end up staring at the ceiling all night, wondering what went wrong and how to fix it.

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

“Come with me tomorrow. To the party.” You say firmly, Hoseok stares at you.

“What?”

“The party... Come with me. i want you to meet my parents, my friends there and everyone else. And to hell with what anyone says...”

“Y/N , you don’t have to...”

“I have to go get ready ay around three. I’l;l pick you up at five and we’ll spend an hour in the party and then we can sneak back out so you can reach the club for your showcase... okay?”

“ARe you sure...?”

“I’m so sure....You can get a good look at everyone and tell me who should be scratched off from our wedding invite list.” You grin and he smiles softly.

“I’ll make you proud...” He says softly.

And your heart just melts.

“i already am ... so proud baby...” You kiss the top of his head and he buries his face into the soft skin of your stomach. You thread your fingers through his hair and he sighs.

“i just want to be good enough for you.”

You give his ear a twist.

“You’re not just good enough for me. You’re so much more than I deserve.” He laughs and grabs you closer, tosiing you around till you’re flat on the couch. He wastes no time, straddling your waist and kissing your neck.

“i love you.” He breathes against your skin.

“Good. Now prove it..” You nip at his chin.

“How?” He laughs, grinding down on you.

“Make me scream.”

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

Author’s Note : As always requests open!!

If you have a request from one these prompts be sure to send me an ask……

#jhope smut #jhope scenarios #bts smut #bts fanbfics #bts scenarios #jung hoseok #hobi #j hope

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recommendedlisten · 7 years

Text

Good music comes to us in larger offerings ever these days thanks to our technology-induced expanded world views and communication, and with that, it makes it harder and harder on a one-human music site operation to keep up with its positive acknowledgements. Recommended Listen has annually done a mid-year catch-up through its Recommended Summer Listenings, but in evolving with these demands, the site will now be taking an opportunity during the winter, spring and autumn as well to recognize albums well worth your attention. Not to sound seasonably bias, but autumn has a supernatural way of marrying music into nature and our memories unlike any other time of year, and these albums that have come out since +RL’s last round-up in June make that all too easy. Fade into fall with these 15 listens below...

Alvvays - Antisocialites [Polyvinyl Records]

Alvvays’ Antisocialites is an enjoyable reminder that indie-pop can be indulged in great doses to no tireless effect when it’s candy-coated in color and catchy hooks. It’s the Canadian outfit’s second effort, and one that presents them in a more fine-tuned manner by smoothing down the frayed edges of 2014′s self-titled debut into clean lines without obscuring what rests beneath the surface. In this case, its their C86 dreams and under the influence of paisley punk that swells singer Molly Rankin’s heart with tales of romance and the ensuing tales of when romance goes wrong, all the while having to juggle every other concern life lay down on their shoulders. She and her ‘mates can effortlessly transform the sound of a deep sigh into a graceful relief when channeled across featherlight textures, however, and it’s what makes Alvvays feel like a breath of fresh air during these days when everything around you is wilting.

BROCKHAMPTON - Saturation II [BROCKHAMPTON / EMPIRE]

Recommended Listen is sure that that discussion around hip-hop will again revolve around Kendrick and Vince at two of the year’s biggest standouts when the end of the year rolls around, but the cross-country collective known as BROCKHAMPTON have secured their place as the rap game’s biggest breakouts. Saturation II isn’t even the only album they’ve put out this year – it’s the second in a trilogy that began in early summer and will be imminently concluding with a third installment – but it’s the effort that has rightfully caught buzz beyond the Internet forums where this self-professed “American boy band” joined forces. If their end game is world domination, then their brand of pop-infused, Kanye-worship hip-hop is good way to get there, and it doesn’t hurt that the team effort of every member bringing a different story to the table makes Saturation II play like a non-stop assembly line of crew anthems.

Cloakroom - Time Well [Relapse Records]

When Cloakroom released their 2015 debut album Further Out, their wall of sound aspirations were telling: To create a gloomy amalgamation of celestial shoegaze and stoner sludge that bowed in respect at the alter of Hum from the distance of their earthly vantage point. Time Well, their sophomore follow-up and first for heavy music haven Relapse Records, finds the three-piece still peering into the sky, but pulling at their own gravity in their immediate Midwestern surroundings to sculpt out their own silhouette through the static. It’s Americana with feedback, with fingers picked on the middle-of-nowhere tales of the Jason Molina and Mark Kozelek songbook, but amps surging to the sunset instead of flickering out into the dark. It’s a fact that the days are getting darker earlier, and unlike most, Cloakroom relish in every second lost.

Deerhoof - Mountain Moves [Joyful Noise]

What’s exciting about listening to each Deerhoof album is that no one album sounds identical to another. It’s almost as if you are experiencing the band for the very first time, allowing each effort to stand alone as its own statement. Mountain Moves, the veteran avant rock band’s 14th studio effort, is as much defined by their own punk ‘n rhythm gonzo designs as it is by its many collaborators brought in throughout the listen (Juana Molina, Stereolab’s Laetitia Sadler, Xenia Rubinos, to name a few...), as their styles rub off onto the quartet’s soundboard, and through their music magic, somehow manages to produce one of Deerhoof’s most accessible experiments from their longstanding career. Even for those come late to their party or merely invited by the album’s guests, Mountain Moves easily serves as a crash course of their important influence on independent world’s more adventurous side of rock.

EMA - Exile In the Outer Ring [City Slang]

Erika M. Anderson is one of the more provocative songwriters of the modern era, and all she really needs to do to strike that nerve with her audience is merely reflect a mirror onto humanity. In 2017, it’s laughable that upon doing so with her moniker EMA, her former label Matador Records would pass on the opportunity to put out her third full-length Exile In the Outer Ring, allegedly because it was “too political”. If there were ever a time any artist whose art draws a direct line to the ills plaguing society, this would be it, and armed with her background as a preeminent drone maker as well as a studious alternative rock denizen, the songs on this album reverberate like counter-protests against the post-Trump American nightmare where torch-bearing bigots are free to roam, and it can feel like sanity and logic is being pushed out into this country’s fringes so that fake news and delusions can thrive in its comfy hotbeds. EMA is a beacon to those on the outskirts, extending empathy through the chaos and letting them know they’re not alone.

Grizzly Bear - Painted Ruins [RCA Records]

In the five years since Grizzly Bear released their critically adored effort Shields, the landscape of music has changed entirely. The ornate fashion of indie rock they once represented has since gone out of vogue as listening habits now favor poptimism over niche elitism, and with major labels reclaiming their stake as gatekeepers of what sells and how we hear art via intimate-less streaming services, the band has acknowledged that they must change with its tides accordingly. By signing with RCA Records for their fifth studio effort Painted Ruins, Grizzly Bear return to us on a bigger stage than where they last left us, and in turn explore the wide scale potentials of their sound. By minimizing its illustrious designs to fit an alternative pattern, Painted Ruins’ broad brush strokes leave a greater effect than the thin line details, and makes for a welcome cosmetic reinvention from a veteran band whose music remains full-proof singular.

Japanese Breakfast - Soft Sounds from Another Planet [Dead Oceans]

Psychopomp, last year’s debut album from Michelle Zauner as Japanese Breakfast, was a promising reintroduction to the artist we had once known as the lead singer for the Philly indie punk outfit Little Big League. It carried the weight of a heavy mourning sound on airy vestiges of dream-pop while embossing Zauner’s penmanship, and on its follow-up Soft Sounds from Another Planet, it’s as if that gauzy cloud has drifted out of view. What we see is a vivid realization of the wonders in her art, traveling across a galaxy of sound where crystallized synth-pop, big romantic ballads, and grizzled indie rock can coexist without impinging upon each others comfort zones. Zauner may have put herself in the storyteller’s chair of writing a sci-fi love story with this effort, but it turns out that no matter the medium, those emotions are universally binding.

Liars - TFCF [Mute Records]

In Liars’ world, nothing is ever as it once was, and no greater are those words true on the band’s eighth full-length TFCF. It’s the first album where the outfit is now working entirely through the creative psyche of founder Angus Andrew since the dissolution of his partnership with its other primary creator following the promotion of 2014′s laser raver Mess, and with that, Andrew uses TFCF as a formal vessel to mourn that loss through Liars’ endlessly shape-shifting body. Its minimalist shift is jarring when held against the band’s latter outputs where dance mechanics and electricity ran through in no short supply, and no turn is ever predictable. In a sense, this feels like Andrew reclaiming a sense of his own identity through the sonic outlet he has poured two decades of exploration into, and while the listen harbors an underlying trepidation in going at it alone, it’s also an adventurous fresh start for the revered noisenik’s work that reminds us why we signed up to tag along for the journey to begin with.

Lomelda - Thx [Double Double Whammy]

Thx, the breakout sophomore effort from Texan DIY scene songwriter Hannah Read and her moniker Lomelda, is the perfect companion to both long trips or bedroom sits. The listen is wonderfully melancholic and understated, as it quietly nestles is way between the cracks of the walls and freeways with carefully mapped acoustic codas and dim lit keyboards that can either long for yesterday, or cover new life adventures. Read has a knack for blurring reality from fiction, imagining conversations with everyone from old friends, angels, and the ghosts of songwriting folk heroes. Her prose is inscribed into these songs in a way where their details can easily become sights your mind might find familiar through its own passing journeys out there on the open road, or merely offer a warm-knit escape while embracing your own introverted habits.

The National - Sleep Well Beast [4AD]

The National are one of the most consistently great indie rock bands to survive the NYC Aughts scene and all of its history that has for the most part become anecdotal enough to fill up the pages of Lizzy Goodman’s Meet Me In the Bathroom. Consistency can be its own trap, however, as it can lead down the road of creative sameness, and that’s the peak on which they sat with 2013′s critically acclaimed, festival formula-perfecting Trouble Will Find Me. LP 7 Sleep Well Beast feels like a needed shock to their system even if so much of it tip its hand to what made their early catalog bold. There’s Matt Berninger and his wife Carin Besser reconnecting his prose with matters of lovers’ quarrels and recommitments, and just the right amount of darkness swallowing up the night that has become synonymous with the National’s relationship with the city. Funny how they actually had to flee the city to record the album, and that wilderness experiment is what ends up feeding Sleep Well Beast its electricity as the quintet refit their machine with artificial limbs and heartbeats. For the National, success in grandeur is in the way they convey intimacy.

Oneohtrix Point Never - Good Time (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) [Warp]

You could hypothetically argue that every album by Oneohtrix Point Never mastermind Daniel Lopatin is a soundtrack to something. He can invent sounds unheard of electronically, make the instruments we have heard sound foreign, or just scavenger through our eventual space junk for relics of discarded art that says something about how we got to where we are today, or will be tomorrow. His proper soundtrack work for the Safdie Brothers crime thriller Good Time is a rewarding experiment in his creative body in that it’s one of the rare instances where Lopatin has to actually assign soundscapes to human beings at their most organic level, and not versions of themselves conflated with their increasingly convincing artificial bodies which harvest our collective dystopian anxieties. These compositions veer away from the foreground, however, by distilling his music’s denser complexities through a saturation process where white noise and neon switch on when each character’s energy desires it. Even when experienced outside of its theatrical context, it’s another astonishing aural document from OPN that transcends physicality.

Prawn - Run [Topshelf Records]

It would remiss to put together a quintessential autumn listening list without acknowledging that emo is practically the season’s official genre. With the term having more give to it these days than it did during its period of critical derision, the New Jersey quartet Prawn take full advantage of that creative freedom as well-learned students of rock formations in post-, math, punk and hardcore landscapes with their sophomore effort Run. It’s an album filled with songs written with the complexities of our relationships with he people in our lives as well ourselves in mind, and how they have a way of carving permanent memories into mountainsides or giving us reason to scream in anthem from rooftops. It’s a credit to Prawn that since experimenting with grandeur on their 2014 debut Kingfisher, they have finally grown into their big catharsis by creating spaces for every intimate emotion to live in on their own.

The War On Drugs - A Deeper Understanding [Atlantic Records]

By design, A Deeper Understanding, isn’t actually all that difficult to understand. For years, the War On Drugs’ mastermind Adam Granduciel has been perfecting his craft as a new age highway vagabond by bridging the gaps between classic heartland rock and synthetic pastures, and on his Philly band’s major label debut for Atlantic, he comes closer than he ever has to getting that formula entirely right. Those years on the independent scene seamlessly flow from their tributaries into the mouth of high end studio precision -- Not that much of a departure from where 2014′s craft beer classic Lost In the Dream left off, but rather a widescreen continuation of its colors with more lucid light and memory behind them. If by chance you’re lucky enough that your autumn leads you down winding mountain roads covered in all directions with the season’s colorful foliage, this will help make them bolder, and even if that is not where these month’s take you physically, Granduciel’s music still has that power to.

Weeping Icon - Eyeball Under [Fire Talk / Kanine Records]

A recent feature in The New York Times told us what most of us already know: That rock music isn’t dead, it’s just ruled by women, and went on to let us eavesdrop on a round table discussion and profile a who’s who list of some of the faces at the forefront of it all. In a perfect world, there’d be more than two dozen names on that list, and the Brooklyn noise punk outfit Weeping Icon -- which features members from former and current NYC scene bands ADVAETA, Lutkie, Mantismass, Warcries and Water Temples -- would get just due themselves for their recent debut EP Eyeball Under. Where they demand your attention is in their violence of guitars and lead singer Lani Combier-Kapel ability to channel conversation between furious screams and echos, or wry group harmonies. Weeping Icon’s sound would convincingly play to the scenes of the world’s inner ugliness being burned down into oblivion, and to ensure it, there’s no shortage of fuel for them to add to the fire.

Chelsea Wolfe - Hiss Spun [Sargent House]

Over the course of her career, Chelsea Wolfe’s dark art has gotten progressively heavier at each turn, but with her sixth full-length Hiss Spun, everything up until this point pales in comparison to the weight it bares down. Following 2013’s mournful goth symphony Pain Is Beauty, we saw the Los Angeles songwriter gravitate toward an industrial doom spell on its 2015 follow-up Abyss, and that machinery has grown in size on Hiss Spun, which finds Wolfe -- with the help of producer Kurt Ballou (of Converge) and guest appearances by Queens of the Stage’s and Old Man Gloom’s -- conjuring the metal spirits as axe-wielding soldiers for her ethereal meditations on reckless wars between humans and nature, and humans versus their own selves. It’s Wolfe’s most fleshed listen to date, and sheds plenty of blood while breaking bones, too.

#alvvays #brockhampton #cloakroom #ema #deerhoof #grizzly bear #japanese breakfast #liars #lomelda #the national #oneohtrix point never #prawn #the war on drugs #weeping icon #chelsea wolfe #lists #features

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potter-scamander-black-imgines · 7 years

Text

Hellos and New Starts Part 01

Draco Malfoy X Reader

Request: Nope

Warning: Torture. Fluff. Marriage talk? Fear

(AN: Takes place post wizarding war. Draco is smol bean. Haha... Next part is fun)

(Hellos)

Shyly, you placed a shaking hand into Draco's, fighting the tears stinging your eyes. You had absolutely nothing in common with Narsissa or Lucius Malfoy except for your love for their son.

You were a Hufflepuff, a half-blood, a fighter on the light side. You and Draco's love was strange and forbidden, but intimate and passionate, simple and classic. The same relationship that your grandpa and grandma had always had ever since you could remember.

Noticing your nerves, Draco squeezed your hand and kissed your neck, "They will adore you, Y/N... Fret not." He whispered tenderly in you ear causing a small ghost of a smile to spread on your lips.

"This is me we are talking about Draco. Fretting is more of a hobby than something I do." Chuckling, I laid against his shoulder while he knocked on the door, rubbing my hand as I took deep breaths in order to calm myself, knowing that it would most likely be his mother who would answer.

"Draco." She smiled brightly at her boy, taking him from me, hugging him and peppering his face in kisses, earning and embarrassed moan from Draco when she turned her eyes to me, bringing me into a hug. "You must be Y/N! Oh it's lovely to finally meet you darling!" She began to kiss both my cheeks and i felt myself tense, but hid it out of the worried feeling of upsetting her.

Soon she was out of my arms and held a single hand leading me inside the manor, "Draco has been babbling to me all about you since his fifth year... Is that how long you've know each other?"

I smiled at Draco, who set your two suitcases down. "Not quite."

Shuffling onto the train, I kept my head down and sat down, avoiding looks I was getting from other students entering. Whilest doing so, I began writing in my journal, pulling out a copy of my grandfather’s book, considering reading it on your way, though all I could think doing was writing. That was until a knock came at my door and I looked at the blond haired figure at the door.

"I-er... I am sorry to bother.” You looked up at the blond male, shyly putting the notebook in your lap, “ I can’t seem to find my friends and I was wondering if I could sit with you?” Nodding and flashing him a small smile, you gestured to the empty seat across from yours. Taking it, he looked out the window, then held out his hand, interrupting your scribbling once more. “Draco Malfoy.”

Looking up at him rapidly, knowing what you had been told of the Malfoy-Black family and you could feel the nerves coiling and your body suffocating itself in panic and fear. Still quickly, perhaps almost too quickly you responded, “Scamander. Uh-I m-mean Y/N Scamander.”

Draco raised his eyebrows at this shaking your hand, “Scamander? Granddaughter of Newton Scamander?” You nodded, dropping the hand and blushing crimson, “That’s neat. You seen the creatures then yeah?”

“Some.” You replied smelly, “Grandfather and Grandmother are protective. Waiting till I am eighteen. My brother Ralf though has seen them. He is trying to be a magzooligist just like my grandfather.”

Draco nodded, “And what are you writing?”

Realizing that you were still scribbling, your blush grew deeper and you handed your notebook over reluctantly, watching his eyes scan the book. “It’s good. Interesting. You want to be an author?” Nodding, he smiled, “Good. Keep writing.”

"So this is the girl Draco wouldn't stop babbling about." A voice from behind me called, causing my bones to crack and ice to run through my body.

Luckily for me, Draco noticed (pray not anyone else) and wrapped both arms around my waist. "Father. This is Y/N. Y/N S-"

"Yes. I know who she is..." Lucius cut his boy off, "I remember her quite clearly."

“You can’t do this! You can’t!” I grabbed Draco’s arm hard, looking up at him with pleading eyes “Draco please.”

He scoffed, pushing me off him, “You are so naïve, Y/N.” Pulling down the sleeve to revel his mark to you, “I am one of them.”

“I know and I don't care I just- AH!” You whimpered, clutching your head, both you and Draco reaching out for each other, him placing an arm around your waist while you grabbed his shoulders, both of you whining as you said his name at the same time.

“Harry.”

Helping me to walk, we were greeted by a screaming Ginny Weakly as you walked aside your classmates and you felt yourself begin to cry, turning, myself against Draco’s chest while he hid you two, hoping not to get caught but of course Voldemort spotted his youngest Death-Eater

“Draco my boy, come over here.”

I felt Draco stiffen as Voldemort called him and I hid deeper in his shoulder blades, preventing him from going to him. Feeling him soften, I loosened my grip and nuzzled back down into his chest, relaxing until I felt the spell hit my back and I arched back wards, screaming in pain.

“Crucio!” It came again and my hearing went static, Draco trying to pick me up as more were thrown at my body only for me to fall to the pavement hitting my head.

Voldemort approached my body, Draco sobbing slightly, commanding Draco’s Aunt to stop, “Ah a Scamander. Good blood. Strong family. You have a brother named Rolf, yes?” Getting only a whine in return, he grinned darkly, looking up at Draco, “Is she yours?” Fading in and out of consciousness, you couldn't see Draco’s response but you heard more laughter and felt your arm being grabbed and a slight, “Well she will make a good first example to join my arm.” You could hear Draco protest and panic between your colleagues, what you assumed to be Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy calling their son but all you could do was grunt and whine. Feeling a single burning sensation on your arm, it stopped and you thought you died but instead, you felt hands roaming your face and screams erupting.

“Come back to me Y/N!” A figure called from the darkness, gently slapping my cheeks, as I blinked, “C’mon! We are safe. We are out. We are safe.”

Looking up into his beautiful grey eyes, I placed my hand on his cheek, “I-I love-”

“Stop.” He whined, “Stop. We are safe. We are out, I used the cabinet. We are safe.” Tears splashed onto my cheeks as he held me in his lap, holding me up with trembling hands, “We are fine.”

“We are fine.” I replied, Smiling weakly while I blinked, exhausted, “Where are we?”

“I appareted to a old place I visited as a child.” He sighed looking out, “No. You need to stay awake now.”

“ so tired.” I whined, shutting my eyes, but hurting to much to sleep, “Just hold me. Please. ”

He nodded, holding you tighter, bringing one hand up to kiss it while the other he ran through my hair, “You just got to stay awake for me.”

“Umm..Hmm..”

“Please.” He whimpered, “I love you. I can’t.. I can’t”

“You won’t.” I yawned, “Never. I am not going anywhere.”

“Ever again?”

“Ever.” You sighed, forcing myself to his neck as I was about to fall into sleep so he could feel me breathing, “You won’t. And I won’t. Always.”

"Ah!" Mrs. Malfoy cooed, breaking the tension, "I think that dinner is done."

Turning from my trembling body to his wife, Mr. Malfoy smiled, "excellent! Draco go help your mother set up and I'll show Ms. Scamander around the house." "Father I don't think it's a-"

"No." I smiled at him, letting go of his embrace, "It's alright Draco. I'll be fine." Kissing his cheek I smiled at him, walking towards Mr. Malfoy and our bags while Draco shot his dad the 'Be nice' eyes before walking away with his mother.

About to reach the handles, an "Allow me." came from behind me and the suitcases flew up the stairs, Mr. Malfoy offering me up his arm before following the cases on their path. Room to room, Mr. Malfoy shared history gracefully and in depth about the lifestyle he and his boy grew up in and what each room meant. It was quite interesting and impressive, but then he stopped, dropping your arm and looking into your eyes. "Ms. Scamander... I just wanted to thank you for all you did for my family."

"Mr. Malfoy I hardly-"

"Hush." He spoke slightly stern but with a hint of sport in his voice, "You are a game changer, Ms. Scamander, whether you see it or not. Not just in my family, but for millions of others." I smiled at this, feeling tension slowly relieve itself from my body.

"It was only the right thing, Mr. Malfoy, no need to thank me."

It was never I who was looking after Draco... Even in the beginning

Knocking on the office door shyly, I tapped my feet, smiling gently at Harry and whishing him a good night before entering Dumbledore’s office.

“Good evening Ms. Scamander.” He smiled brightly at me as I walked in, “I don’t believe we have properly met?” I nodded shyly, “I have, however, heard a lot about you from your grandfather. We were very close and from what he has told me and what I hear, you are very similar.”

I smiled brightly at this, looking around his office in wonder before looking back at him, “Thank you professor, but I have to ask. why am I in here?”

He sighed, gesturing me to sit across from his desk while he sat down, sighing before continuing, “You are becoming closer to Draco Malfoy as I am told. Romantically?”

“I, ah, no.” I blushed, “We are just friends.” I beamed brightly at him, trying to hide my blush, “You know how the old rumor about how who you ride to school with on the Hogwarts express will be a tight friend. He was probably just a little harder to open up.”

Taking note, he nodded, “I have a task for you.”

“For Draco, sir?” I asked, confused, causing him to nod, “Is he alright?”

“He will be, with your help.”

I raised my eyebrows, “Is he in trouble?”

“Not yet. And with your help, he won’t be.” He sighed, “Next year, Draco will become more distance, probably already has, but you need to stand by him, watch over him. He trusts you. You can do this.”

“I don’t understand sir.” I questioned confused, “What will come after him that only I can help.”

Dumbledore smiled at me, “You shall see child, you shall see.

It was a mixed blessing, something I would gladly do, but as our sixth year hit, he stopped writing during the summer, he didn't find me on the train, even avoided me on grounds until I cornered him.

“Y/N?” A voice called, causing you to snap out of your mind as you jumped, “Hey you okay love?” Seeing Draco behind you, you nodded, humming slightly and leaning into his embrace, allowing him rub my shoulders while I calmed my breathing, “What were you thinking about?”

“Nuthing. Fifth year” She smiled softly, “Dinner almost ready? I’m famished.”

“Merlin fifth year was awful. And yes. I will lead you down.” He smiled, kissing your hand and pulling you down the stairs as though you were a princess.

“I hate you.” He spat, “Leave me alone.”

“Merlin Draco.” You scoffed, pushing him against the wall to prevent him from running off. “What the bloody hell have I ever done to you besides look out for you? Help you with homework? Stand with you, stand for you? And now you think you can push me aside. Hell no.” He looked down while you waited several beats only for nothing. “Screw you Draco. I just want to help. I only want you to let me so I can help you. For six goddamn years that is all I wanted. I haven't slept in days. I haven’t properly eaten. I didn't go home for the holidays. All for you. But you know I am done sacrificing just so that yo-”t

Grabbing your shoulders and flipping you so that you were against the wall, pressing his lips hungrily on yours while you stood in shock. Finally when he pulled away for a breath, he put his forehead on yours and cupped your face, “Y/N.. I cant tell you. But I promise I will try and be less of an ass... But we need to hide. Meet me here, this time nightly okay? Don’t tell anyone.”

“Draco I-”

“Shh..” He smiled tearfully, kissing the top of your head, “Let that be all for tonight... Please.”

You shook your head tearing up slightly and grabbing his arms as he tried to pull away, “No please Draco. I can’t- I need to- I-” He looked at you concern filling his eyes as he looked behind him before cupping your face with his palms, “Draco I...”

It was as though something in the back of your mind flipped and you collapsed against Draco.

Dinner had ended quickly and you had retired, exhaustion filling your system (you claimed but Draco knew you were just nervous and needed to distress) so Draco stayed down with his parents helping them clean up in silence until his father broke it.

“She really is lovely Draco.” He smiled at his son proudly, “Inside and out. Don't wait to long until you make her yours and ours.” He went to Narcissa, clutching her hand as they looked at their son.

“I don’t plan on it. One more stop.” He smiled, hugging them both before heading up the stairs to console the girl. “One more stop and we’ll see if she’ll say yes.”

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ghostofasecretary · 7 years

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hooo boy, this week. it would be good to record things that happened this week, because Feelings are happening about said things

Sunday:

attempted to plan things with the Rat Bastard. that failed

applied to Wellesley

really, really, really did not do my ADLs

watched ASoUE

decided that, instead of homework, i should…hang up pictures? spent four hours hanging up pictures with help of parental unit

and then i had a bunch of new stuff on my wall

Monday:

no school! everybody panic! breaks are terrible and no one should have one!

finished ASoUE

plans with people. talking to people. people are good

GOT OBSESSIVELY LOCKED INTO CLEANING

like. usually i am able to focus on stuff for a while and then stop, but here? no. i moved everything in my room. i went through a substantial amount of papers of me, being a dork from 7th grade til last year, and felt extremely awful about all of them

i hate throwing stuff out! it is very good to do so, but also, ugh

moved and collapsed a bunch of stuff

got freaked out by how empty and new my room is

hung up new art

got extremely pissed at the movie “V for Vendetta,” because THAT IS NOT OKAY TO DO TO PEOPLE, HOW THE FUCK, WHAT KIND OF ABUSIVE SHIT SHOW, i don’t really have flashbacks but if i did, uh. yeah.

made some rice

had a panic attack in the shower, as one does

just felt really really terrible for mostly indiscernible reasons, which probably round to “breaks: they aren’t good”

felt okay by the time i went to bed, though

Tuesday:

fuck tuesday

did my homework in the morning because brains, what are brains

hey the principal needs to talk to you and your mom! for reasons! apparently!

HEY GUYS MANDATORY SURPRISED UNSCHEDULED SENIOR MEETING RIGHT WHEN YOU ARE SCHEDULED TO LEAVE WITH YOUR FRIEND

OOPS NOPE NOW THAT IS CANCELLED

then i got to see Joe, which was lovely

we went to the best coffee shop and hung out, and bullied each other into making lists, and we talked about our vastly different suicidal feelings and how i just sort of - process my suicidal intent as background noise, not really anything, like pain, like habit - don’t feel suicidal in the same way i don’t feel like a redhead, and i showed him all of rusalkii’s “the paint pettiness” tag because it is fantastic, and so that was delightful

then we went to an art studio so he could work on photos

i derped around and read poetry and walked out on the freaking awesome porch and admired pretty spiderwebs and sunlight

and then settled in to read for anatomy

and then Joe came in and did stuff in the computer lab, which was nice

AND THEN

hahahahahahhahhahah

a girl! blue eyes, blond hair, tan skin! name of “Maddy!” came in! to sit next to me!

like, i have a couple of things that basically always trigger me and they are all pretty unfortunate. like, being complimented by authority figures, especially in private, makes me want to die. certain bible verses. people making animal noises. churches, as a general rule. but the number one thing which upsets me is people who remind me of Maddy

like, fictional characters named some variation of “Madison”? yeah. can’t read Worm because there’s a short blond blue eyed bully with that name

people with a certain facial structure, even, if i’m having a Bad Time

which! guess what! the past couple of months! i have been having a Bad Time! for a while i could not go to coffee shops without screaming because tall black haired people had snub noses, okay, it has not been a fun season for the Traumz

and, to top it all off, i don’t actually remember her face or how she spells her name! i don’t! i just remember how her full name sounded/really accurate animal sounds/wanted to be a surgeon/blue eyes/snub nose/ambivalent coloring/blond bob, stacked, she didn’t use conditioner and then she did???/had duck pajamas at one point/SUPER AWFUL THINGS SHE DID AND SAID TO ME AND THEN THE THINGS I DID AND SAID FOR HER, hahahhhahaaahah!

so. had a really long and quiet panic attack

frantically texted Joe to ask if he knew her last name, which he did not

it was so horribly triggering, mother of g-d

then she left

and i cuddled Joe a bit, and he was v calming and good, and we talked about random shit and his photos and The Future, and i read him the english major articles and stuff, and overall it was quite distracting

and she came back, and then we left, and we had a brief interaction but it was...fine

and we went down in the elevator

her sign in didn’t include a last name

we walked to the car, and drove further in, and walked til we got to the gelato place in the deco building

the ice cream barista was v v v cute and relatively interesting and recommended pen&ink for tattoos

i really enjoy Joe, he is a good bean and a good friend and Quality

we walked back

i shouted “you go, running man” at a dude who was running very quickly, which was an Incredibly Impulsive decision and then something i felt shitty about, but it was also kinda funny

and people kinda were screaming as we neared the car, so that was weird

i wouldn’t have gone out unless i were with Joe

but it was nice

and i kinda. felt shitty and lived with it, and didn’t think about stuff, and we talked about How To Comfort Ghost When They Are Dead - Joe has improved a lot and it’s nice to have these discussions - and i helped plan for Joe, and he tried to reciprocate, because trying to help other people is really hard to do well, and i really really love my friends and i love Joe and i love feeling comfortable and safe and alive around people. it was good

and i was home by 8

and my sister had moved to my bathroom? which doesn’t sound like a big deal, but also. ugh. i moved downstairs, despite it requiring a lot of leg movement for me, because she is so exhaustingly untidy. i had to force her to clean up, which was unpleasant

and i think this is when i learned about the subject of the mystery meeting? mr. Post decided i could not fully join the alum association because i am not a christian, even though he had earlier said i could! and i was never less than honest about who and what i am! and so either i could do something half baked or i could do nothing. so. wasn’t that a lovely surprise to top off my day :/

and then i went upstairs and my room was empty and i was empty

got to sleep by 9:30, which was at least one good thing

Wednesday:

i was so tired and everything was 10x harder

by lists, this was the busiest day of the week. gotta love that.

got to school at 7:15, due to my mother’s job

did classes

ugh

N, another good bean, immediately got why i was so stressed and was super sympathetic and also asked if it was the Maddy, and i hadn’t thought of that, and i don’t know, i don’t know, i hate my brain doing this to me

we had a super passive aggressive and rather inefficient senior meeting led by the principal, which exposed School Drama

and a disturbing view of how classes work, but that is another topic

i asked good questions and it was incredibly obvious that certain people were at fault and other people were acting decently and still others had no idea that this was happening and did not enjoy the guilt trip and scrupulosity triggers and, in fact, the knowledge of other people’s stupid high school bullshit

who doesn’t get their drama done in 5th grade and get super traumatized and decide to never do that again? honestly

AND THEN

(warnings for a lack of clarity in the next section, because rage)

ms. Cathey yelled at us for being “selfish”

and said we were “spoiling your reputation”

and more importantly, “spoiling my reputation. this reflects badly on me and my job.“

FUCK YOU

THAT IS NOT HOW YOU TREAT KIDS

THAT IS NOT HOW YOU LEAD PEOPLE

the only reason classes have a reputation is because you tell other classes about them

ALSO: PLEASE DO NOT INSINUATE THAT OTHER PEOPLE ARE BEHAVING SELFISHLY WHEN, IN FACT, THEY ARE ACTING LIKE PEOPLE AND YOU SEE YOURSELF AS A DIVINELY APPOINTED MEDDLER AND THUS THEIR PROBLEMS ARE A SELF CENTERED ATTACK ON YOU, AS A PERSON

you know the only person who was really, lastingly hurt by this? her aide, who spends 8 hours in her office and has her ear as no one else does and has noticeably become more like ms. Cathey in the last year

this is a fucking adult. a 30 year old woman. yelling at high school seniors about how they are selfish for attempting to solve their own, mostly self generated problems, without talking enough to the person you hear most from, who is probably being influenced by your own propensity for inefficient, ineffective, and frankly inaccurate communication

YOU ARE BAD AT YOUR JOB AND BAD TO PEOPLE AROUND YOU AND I WANT YOU TO BE FIRED, PLEASE STOP BEING AROUND PEOPLE WHO ARE EASILY HURT, PLEASE STOP BEING SO DUMB, JUST. Fucking stop.

(that’s not very kind, but at this point i am incredibly angry with her and my anger is justified, and so i will have to construct a positive case in defense of her, that’s good practice. once i graduate, though, i am asking for her to be fired)

no one came out of that meeting with anything resembling sanity

and then my meeting with the principal got cancelled

and i went to a coffee shop and hung out with The Coolest Dietz, which was pretty great

except i was, as noted, dead and full of rage and anxiety

but mostly it was awesome

and then i had philology club

and then i took a friend home

and then i took a bath

and then i figured out how to dress for prom

and then i had that kind of dissociation that’s so stark and unsubtle it can’t be anything but dissociation, where your hands aren’t your hands and your body isn’t your body and you aren’t alive, at all, really, you’re a floating falling non being in static space

and then i read someone’s trauma blog a bit

and then i talked to a person

and then i failed to do things, because exhaustion

and then i went to sleep really early

Thursday:

did not have homework done, which was unfortunate but could be fixed. also did not have headache medications.

why?

because who has the energy to remind people multiple times of your pressing need for medication

it was an understandable mistake, but also. ugh.

PAIN HAPPENED

skyped my principal while i had a migraine. that was…fun.

i don’t feel like detailing it but it went well, i guess, and we decided a thing, mostly

apparently i am “groundbreaking” or w/e

remember how compliments from authority figures in private make me want to die? yeaahh

laid in the dark while in pain for a while

got meds at 12

read about s t o y a, because why not

got increasingly horribly anxious about my freaking homework for Friday

talked to a person; said person attempted to help and had me do some ADLs, which was good

got an SD card, which was a surprise but a good one

still did not even begin to do things. SO. TIRED.

stayed up til 11, decided this was unproductive because i could not move

went to bed

Friday:

decided to go to school even though i had done nothing and was dead, because i have a fun Dr. V class on Fridays

read the German in a rush before school

went to class

went to break. oh! turns out! we’re streaming the whole inauguration! and today has no schedule! and Mr. Post’s secretary isn’t here, so we can’t ask her why!

i hate surprises

one of my two classmates is incredibly, incredibly pro-Trump

it’s so exhausting.

the other was absent

we read some stuff, it was good, the fact that i didn’t have my homework mattered less than expected

Dr. V did not actually call me and The Coolest Dietz, who decided to hang out in our classroom, quote man-hating dykes unquote, but holy shit, that was hilarious

and very inaccurate, in Dietz’s case. after he left Dr. V began talking about how he could “clean up nice” and “all the boys at our school must be blind,” which was even more hilarious

(also this saga was a bit awful, but there are things that you forgive in order to live in the world, so)

S U R P R I S E

YOU HAVE TO GIVE A SPEECH!

SORRY THAT I, THE GREAT MS. CATHEY, DIDN’T TELL YOU THIS

ALSO I GAVE YOU BLATANT MISINFORMATION ABOUT THE BANNER, SORRY

WHO DOESN’T LOVE FUN SURPRISES

ALSO I WAS GONE ALL DAY BECAUSE I WAS GETTING MY HAIR DONE, LOL

called a college b/c application bullshit

prepared for Teh Prom

was at Teh Prom

it was exhausting and i was temporarily blinded due to masks

Surprise! the person who made last year’s third quarter miserable with her wedding showed up and hugged you from behind! gotta love it!

she wasn’t at my table, thank fucking god

sat next to M and K, and M wanted to talk about 3D printing and K wanted to write notes, and it was altogether pretty satisfactory

the food wasn’t great, but it existed, so that was good.

i waltzed with Joe’s little sister, the same K, which was pretty fun

wrote a lot of notes, always a delightful Teh Prom activity

i wrote a speech in the car on the way there

THAT WAS SO ANXIETY INDUCING

it was a Work for me and my co-banner-bullshit-committee-member to divide the speech into a nice, thematically appropriate thing, BUT WE DID IT

THANK GOD

and my jokes carried! and we played off of each other! i fucking love public speaking

and the NOA thing happened

it was surprisingly not awkward, if anxiety-inducing

and then it was over

and i went home

and i was home

and i slept

Saturday:

slept for 12 hours and woke up at 11

good talks in the morning

mostly was a person

felt bad

did laundry

took a bath

cleaned my room some more

went to a tea shop, which was nice

cleaned some stuff

read about how to resist Trump

goofed around on tumblr

drank a delicious oatmeal type mocha and had an extremely filling triple layer chocolate mousse

went home

ate a lot of food

kinda crashed

talked to people

realized HEY, i feel like an automaton or a cyborg and usually that means i am festering

wrote this thing! thanks again, rusalkii, you are a delight and an extremely helpful human

now: put up laundry

slep

i don’t know how i feel, still, but i now understand the magnitude of shitty stuff which has happened. the thing on Tuesday has made everything 10x harder, even though i was able to ground and be comforted and think the past was post, it still sucked a lot. and there were other triggering things this week! there was a frankly ridiculous amount of pain and also walking!

surprises kill me so much and so thoroughly and i never remember this.

next week will probably be hard. i might not feel it. i first thought i wouldn’t react for a while, but i seem to be reacting a bit. maybe something will pop up later and maybe it won’t, who knows. it’s okay that things suck.

a few quotes: not the spring dawn: i strained, i suffered, i was delivered. this isn’t the present. nature isn’t like us, doesn’t have a warehouse of memory.

lucky nature.

(not everything has to bloom. that’s how gardens work: you plant seeds, you wait. something imperfect grows, still, maybe.)

#emotional sorting #senior year here i come #this got out of hand #the week: a recap #trigger warnings probably i guess idk

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jeff3 · 7 years

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The girl awoke to a sound, it was being made over and over again. She sat up, there was a muscular woman, one of the two from last night, standing beside the bed holding a small tray with a bottle of pills and a glass of water. After a brief but confused struggle the girl managed to keep the pill in her mouth and was handed the glass, which she stared at blankly, then looked back at the nurse who mimed taking a drink. Hesitantly she raised the glass to her lips and poured, sloping down the front of her. “Bah! Foolish girl!” the nurse threw the soggy pill away and dispensed another. This time she got it in the girl’s mouth following it with a splash of water. The girl choked and sputtered, coughed and swallowed. The nurse brought the glass up again, this time the girl clumsily clutched it in two hands and brought it a-tremble to her lips, slurping loudly. “Well, I guess that’s progress,” harrumphed the nurse as she retrieved the empty glass. “MM.. Mmmrrr!” She stopped and regarded the girl, who flapped her hands uselessly and wiggled her feet. “Mrr-mmmrraahhh! “Ach! You’ve soiled yourself. Wunderbar.” “Mmmrr…duh, duh, duh. Mmmrraahhh duh.” The girl touched the scars on her neck and stared at her wrists like they were something new. “Come on missy, up out of bed. I’ll have to give you a wash before I can take you out of here.” Shortly, in a clean smock and slippers, she was led by the nurse into the day room. The girl stopped dead, the noise struck her, she backed up with a moan putting hands first before her eyes at the bright light and then over her ears. A radio played Hadyn, an undercurrent of tranquility amongst the babbling madness of the patients. “Aha! You can hear, I’ll have to tell the doktor.” “Tell the doktor what sister Gertrude?” “She can hear. When we came into the day room she covered her ears.” The pair regarded the new patient who slowly lowered her hands, then made her way to a corner where she sat rocking while she hugged herself. “She appears to be afraid. How old would you say she is Gertrude?” “Eighteen or twenty at most.” “Did you sedate her?” “Yes herr doktor.” Dr. Brüning walked slowly to the girl and crouched down, offering her his hand, he crooned to her like a frightened kitten. “That’s it. Come on, don’t be afraid, no one’s going to hurt you.” She reached out a trembling hand and touched his coat, briefly stroking the material. His voice and manner and something about his white coat seemed to sooth her, she took his hand (he was surprised at her strength) and let him lead her into the room. She moved with stiff awkward steps and jerked her head in a quirky way, trying to gaze at everything at once. They stopped beside an elderly woman who sat in a chair petting a worn fur hat. “Guten tag Gretchen,” the doctor said warmly. “Oh, guten tag herr doktor.” The woman tilted her head to one side and peered up at him. “Gretchen, I would like you to meet, umm, a young lady who’s come to stay with us for a while.” “That’s nice doktor. Tell me, has my son come for me yet?” “No, my dear, but we expect him any day.” The girl reached out to touch the hat but Gretchen snatched it away, stuffing it behind her. “You can’t take Mr. Mittan!” “Gretchen, calm down now, she doesn’t want to take Mr. Mittan away, she just wants to pet him, like you do.” Grudgingly she brought the hat out. The young girl hesitantly brushed her fingers in the lush fur and broke into a broad smile. “Mmmrr, mmmrrraah,” she hummed “Mr. Mittan,” Gretchen insisted. “Mmrrr…mmmiit…mit.” “Mittan.” “Mitn-n.” The adults laughed, the delighted girl beamed. “No Maria, like this.” The old woman gently took the girl’s hand and showed her how she petted the hat. “Maria?” Sister Gertrude said. “Mmrrrah…Mit-n.” the girl crooned. “Maybe that’s her name.” the doctor replied. “Well, anyway, it is now”, he smiled. “Come sister Gertrude, let us make our rounds and leave these new friends together.” Doctor and nurse strolled around the room casually watching the patients interact. “Have you read the election news in today’s paper herr doktor?” “No, I haven’t taken the time, perhaps at lunch.” “The NSDAP have thirty-three percent of the vote and are now the biggest party in the Reichstag.” “I can only wonder how Hindenburg feels about that!” “I’m willing to bet a years wages that herr Hitler will be our next chancellor.” “Hitler? I hope to God not! I cannot abide those tirades of his, he’s much too common and low to be chancellor.” With a shrug Gertrude replied, “As you say herr doktor.”

Kurt and Hans were sweeping out the stable and settling the horses. Or rather Kurt was, Hans leaned against a stall wall and fiddled with a silver swastika that hung on a chain around his neck. It had been given to him by a friend, a member of the SS and was his prized possession. “I won’t say it.” Kurt muttered. “You have to, its part of the wager.,” Hans’ grin became feral. “I can’t, its embarrassing.” “Ooh, can’t take a little jab in pride, eh? Did I find a weak spot perhaps?” “Shut up!” “Admit it, your pride has got you by the throat!” Kurt boiled with rage, sweat beading on his forehead and chin. “Alright!” exploded from him. “I’ll say it. Mein Gott this is childish. A-hem, hem. ‘Hans was right, I was wrong, the Nazis have gotten the majority vote and…and…” “C’mon, finish it, every last syllable.” Hans no longer hid the gleeful gloating in his voice, he wore it like armor. Kurt spotted his crimson faced reflection in the dusty window and pictured himself strangling the annoying gargoyle before him. He gasped…”and I’m not fit to lick their boots.” “Delightful, delicious, so satisfying to set a liberal nancy boy in his place.” Smugly Hans got to his feet, clapped his hat on his head and started towards the door. “Oh, by the way,” he paused, door handle in hand and a grin on his face. “I’ll take my 25,000 reichmarks tomorrow. After all, you wouldn’t want the good doktor to know you’ve been gambling, it would cost you your job.” Kurt made a strangled noise and pounded his forehead against the wall. Hans’ laughter hung in the dusty air.

It was now autumn. Kurt remained sullen and near silent when dealing with Hans. The gargoyle of a man took great pleasure in rubbing Kurt’s nose in every Nazi achievement, knowing it galled Kurt to distraction. Hans, a long term employee at the asylum, had become quite familiar with the daily routine and knew each time the auburn haired beauty was going to the showers. Sometimes she was joined by other women (adding a bit of spice to his fun), but more often she was alone. He witnessed her ablutions and each time his orgasms were earth shattering and he was amazed that he hadn’t had a heart attack during one. He had to have her, he dreamt about her, she filled his every waking moment.

The doctor had gone for the night, as had most of the nurses. Sister Freya, an overweight and rather lazy woman, sat at the nurse’s station eating something she’d brought from home and pouring over her movie magazines. She wouldn’t move from there for hours. The night air was only gently touched by the moans and curses of the mad. Hans made his rounds in a near panic. His heart beat hard, he began to sweat, knowing this was going to be the night. Shultz, the other night porter had come in yawning. The pair met in a side room where they often sat for dinner. from within his coat Has produced a bottle of french brandy. “Oho! Are we celebrating something special?” Shultz grinned, clapping his hands with delight. “I got it on the black market. The man was a fool, he should’ve charged me twice as much!” Shultz brought out a pair of glasses and the two of them set to drinking. From the radio came Shubert's ‘Der Lindenbaum’. “Achh! Shultz, how can you listen to that shit?” “What shit, its culture, its good music!” Hans turned the dial and got static until a mellow voice emerged singing ‘Annemaria’. “There, Jan Verbaeken, now there’s a singer! Listen to that music. You want culture, that’s all the German culture you need. Now, drink up!” The two men returned to their drinking, only arguing a bit about music old and new and the merits of each, until Shultz’s head began to nod and eyelids flutter shut. Hans turned down the radio and silently left the room, door closed. In moments he was at the top of the stairs leading down to the patient’s wing. He stood at her door, heart pounding loud in his ears bathed in sweat and turned the key with a palsied hand. He slowly entered, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. She lay on the bed, eyes closed, breathing soft and sweet. Her auburn hair spread about her in compelling fan. He took in the slope of her small but perfect breasts, the suggested curve of a hip covered with a thin sheet, the perfection of an ear peeking out from beneath the loose fall of her hair. He shook with an almost epileptic frenzy, dared to approach the bed and stood staring. Hans licked his lips and cautiously drew the sheet away, leaving damp marks with his hands. He grew rigid as an iron bar, unbuttoned his fly and carefully lifter her shift, peering into the darkness beneath. The girl’s eyes fluttered open. At first she could see little but then was able to make out the figure beside her. Her legs grew chilled where they were uncovered, his hand was hot and damp where it stroked her thigh. Maria was puzzled by him, slightly frightened when both hands parted her legs and a finger snaked up between them. His breath came in short gasps, he shoved her shift up around her waist and was a moment fumbling with his pants which slithered around his ankles. The cot creaked as he climbed atop her, his weight was heavy, breath smelling of brandy and cigarettes. Something hard pushed at her, he uttered a harsh sound, spit into his hand and moistened himself, then he was on her grunting and thrusting. Maria lay there confused. “Mmrrahh,” she intoned, “Mmmrrr, mrrahhh!” She was enthralled by the glittering silver swastika on the chain around Hans’ neck it leapt in the air as he moved. “That’s it darlin’, yer likin’ that aren’t ya. Oh! Ahh!” He bounced and quivered atop her, stiffened and softly moaning, lay still, gasping for air. “Mrrr. Mit-mit-an. Getn, Gretn.” She touched the swastika, toying with it, fascinated with its brilliance in the subdued light. “Eh?” He roused himself and clumsily slid off her, puling his pants up and buttoning them. He used his handkerchief to clean up the mess, tugged down her shift and draped the thin sheet back over her. “You go back to sleep now sweeting. I’’ll be back to see ya soon.” He froze, clutching the door knob, one of her hands had clamped on his shoulder. He struggled to brush it off; she was alarmingly strong. “No more girl, I’m not that young I can go all night, now get to bed.” Unnerved he rushed out the door, forgetting to lock it and rubber legged up the stairs. Hans was winded when he reached the door at the top of the second flight and was shocked to find the girl nearly beside him. She’d never made a sound and he couldn’t understand how she’d gotten there. “Wha?” She reached for the shiny medallion, he swung an arm to block her and lost his balance. Her slender white hand darted out to grab the jangling swastika. For a second the chain held the flailing man; the ‘ping’ it made as it broke echoed along the silent stairwell. There was an instant where he met her soulless gaze, it was then he toppled backwards flopping and disjointed as a rag doll. The last thing he heard was the meaty crack of his neck as it broke. The girl drifted down the stairs toying with the medallion, watching it reflect the light. She came to where Hans lay contorted and still. Maria nudged him with a dainty foot, when this failed to produce a response she forgot him and wandered back up the stairs to the day room. It was dark and empty with the pale moonlight shining through a window. She admired the swastika there for a while muttering “Mmmrrrr” and “Mitt, Mitt, Gretn.” With a yawn she dropped the trinket on the floor, walked back to her room, passing the still warm corpse, crawled into bed and was soon sound asleep. The patients were roused the next morning by a series of screams when Sister Gertrude found Hans at the foot of the stairs. It wasn’t long before the police were called and a number of strangers came and went. Doctor Brüning spent much of the day in his office being interrogated by the police and later the local SS. The rest of the staff fared no better and were submitted to the same scrutiny. By day’s end the patients had to be sedated as they were highly unsettled (as were the staff). Most didn’t understand why they were being locked in their rooms. Several doors were found to be unlocked, including Maria’s, but after a few moments of observation the police concluded she was mentally incapable of murder and left. The SS men lingered a bit longer, but eventually they too departed. Shultz was taken into custody and later released, Doctor Brüning had no choice but to fire him for incompetence and drunkenness.

In the asylum days held no meaning, but Maria watched out the windows as the first few snowflakes fell, piling up on the sills and the grounds outside. The days grew cold and winter came. Doctor Brüning walked into the day room where Gretchen and Maria sat. Maria was pouring over a children’s book with few words and bright colorful pictures. “Gute morgen Gretchen, gute morgen Maria.” “Gute morgen herr doktor.” Gretchen smiled “G-gute mmr…morgen herr doktor.” Maria stammered. “Very good Maria, soon you’ll be a regular chatter box, then what will we do?” he laughed. “Mmm…what is a…a chat…” “Chatter box.” he finished for her. “A chatter box is someone who like to talk a great deal.” “Oh.” “We will be getting a new visitor today, if we’re lucky, he will stay with us for a while.” “Is it my son Hubert?” Gretchen leaned forward clutching Mr. Mittan. “No, I’m afraid not, he’s another doctor coming here to help you get better.” “Hrmph!” Gretchen groused slumping back in her chair. Sister Gertrude stepped into the day room, and with her came a slender, neat and fastidious man. Rising with a smile, Doctor Brüning walked over to him, shaking his hand. “Doctor Elazar, so good to see you, I hope your journey from Vienna went well.” “As well as can be expected these days.” “I have an office for you all prepared, lets get you settled in.” “If you don’t mind, I’d like to do the rounds first, get to know every one.” “Well, alright then, this way.” “Doctor Brüning, one of the things that brought me here was your radical ideas of patient care.” “I feel that mental illnesses are misunderstood and the patients, who have no real control of themselves, have been mistreated for too long.” They strolled about the hospital while Doctor Brüning pointed out various progressive features and attributes of the place. Doctor Elazar said little making Doctor Brüning feel awkward and so he rattled on to fill in the gap. “I’ve tried psychotherapy with moderate success, but with herr Freud and his methods being denounced by the government, I’ve since stopped, except in extreme cases where there is no other alternative.” “A thin tightrope to walk.” agreed the other doctor. “And finally we’re back tot he day room. We allow the patients to interact with each other in a controlled environment and only interfere if they appear aggressive or their actions indicate violence.” “You play them music?” Elazar asked. “Oh yes, I also have a record-player with speakers hung in the room, so if there’s nothing but news broadcasting, as there seems to be more and more of these days, I can still play them music. We try to avoid Wagner and the heavier composers, it tends to rouse the patients a bit too much.” Elazar made no comment. “A-hem. Um, we’ve found that they respond well and remain calmer longer without the use of sedatives and many have enjoyed improved social skills. Ah! here’s our latest patient, Maria.” At the sound of her name the young girl looked up and grinned broadly. “Hello, hello!” she shouted, waving one hand. “Maria, not so loud please.” Dr. Brüning said covering his ears. “Hello Dr. Brüning.” she said much quieter this time. “Hello Maria. I would like you to meet Dr. Elazar, he has come from Switzerland where he works in a place much like this. Can you say hello to him?” “Hello Dr. Elazar.” She smiled at them. “When Maria came to us a year ago she had no language skills and has no memory prior to being here. About the only thing she uttered was a mmrr mmmrr sound, so we named her Maria. It seems to fit. He turned back to Maria who was seated by an elderly woman with a moth eaten mink fur hat in her lap. The girl indicated the old woman, who took little notice of the men. “This is my friend Gretchen, that’s Mr. Mittan, he was a cat she owned before she came here, but not really, he really lives with Erich he’s Gretchen’s son who went to fight in the war. Dr. Brüning, where is Poland? Gretchen says its not a nice place can I go to Poland some day? Maybe Gretchen can go with me and we can find her son.” “She seems quite able to speak now.” Dr. Elazar observed with a small smile. “Perhaps it’s time to add a little social and physical stimulation to her education. Maria, starting tomorrow I’m having you start work in the kitchen with some of the staff.” The girl looked nervous. “Please don’t take me away from Gretchen herr doktor!” He laughed. “Maria, it’s only for a few hours a day and Gretchen will be right here waiting for you. Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”

Dr. Brüning sat relaxed in his favorite chair beside the fireplace, newspaper in hand, a blanket across his lap. Outside snow fell gently, piling up on the windowsill, lit by the street lamps and Strauss was playing softly on the new radio. On a side table lay the remains of his dinner which he’d eaten alone, leftovers from Christmas two nights gone. A heavy set middle-aged woman in a maid’s uniform quietly entered carrying a tray. “I brought you some tea before I left for the night.” “Thank you Frau Lippert, how kind of you.” She set out the small pot of tea with its accompanied cream and sugar then gathered his dinner dishes. “It’s chamomile to help you sleep and some mint. I’ve just looked in on Frau Brüning, she’s already asleep. Wilfred sent a telegram from college and Wulfia appears to be thriving in Berlin.” “How a person makes a living sewing dresses I will never understand.” “Herr Brüning, its not just sewing, it’s fashion.” “As you say.” He returned his attention to the newspaper with a look of distaste. “Ach, the news. Its nothing but stories of storm troopers harassing people, destroying property, what’s wrong with people today?” “Ever since Hitler became Chancellor things have been getting worse. My nephew was beaten up last week by some of them because he wouldn’t get off the side walk when they came by. Criminals, they’re all criminals!” Frau Lippert sniffed as she headed for the kitchen. Dr. Brüning had to agree. With a sigh of resignation he picked up the paper once more and looked for signs of hope.

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