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gagmebucky · 4 years

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hiiii i wrote this awhile ago but took it down because i was 👉🏼👈🏼 embarrassed about it (because i do not have the skill to pull off peter parker) and sorta still am but everyone’s been so nice to me about it i thought the best way to repay the kindness by posting it for those who did like it 😅 (originally inspired by spider man 2 with andrew garfield but loosely set in the 2018 issue of the amazing spider-man.)

in which the guys are making fun of peter and accidentally see a video of him fucking you. (includes avenger!peter x girlfriend!you, peter’s pov, voyeur!steve and voyeur!bucky, a sex tape featuring d/s dynamics, bondage, praise kink, exhibitionism, unprotected sex.)

do not repost.

—

Despite being twenty-one years old; a proper adult who lives with his high school sweetheart, a photographer doubling as a seven-year veteran vigilante in the dangers of New York, Peter Parker is still considered as a super-powered amateur to his seasoned peers.

Nonetheless, given his success in countless battles in the state, country, world and even galaxy-wide, he more than qualifies to hold the title of Avenger; it’s official now. A laid-back induction ceremony and his very own identity card: a sturdy rectangle, shiny with full clearance and all. Yet, as an official member, his teammates still treat him like he’s that same goofy, out-of-his-depths sixteen year old.

To be fair, yes, his style of heroism isn’t the most serious. He favors levity in the face of danger, a cheeky flare with smart quips and an infuriating grin. Even after taking a beating from the worst of foes, his demeanor never wavers because in the end, he wins. The villains are slayed and the people are saved, even comforted by the boyishly confident way he works.

But beyond that persona, he has grown into a skilled warrior. On that note, he wants to be regarded as such—at least, to a certain extent. The jokes and teasing, poking fun at his age or the shenanigans he gets himself into, don’t bother him. No, his playful wit handles it with relative ease, and he’s a good sport about it. The only thing that he’d want to see change is some recognition that he isn’t a naïve kid anymore and is fully capable of taking charge when needed.

With his recent acceptance into the gifted pantheon, he’s intent on making that known. The jesting can continue but he wants it to be with an understanding of his capabilities. Luckily, a perfect opportunity has presented itself to showcase his abilities: a training session.

He’s late. And yes, he knows that’s probably not a good impression to make.

In his own defense, it isn’t technically his fault. He forgot that you, his personal alarm clock (amongst other things), left early this morning because you volunteered to help his aunt move. Four years of mornings and nights, he’s gotten used to—and prefers—your languorous wake-up call.

Without your reminder, he regains consciousness fifteen minutes after the scheduled time and ends up scrambling to the compound. In a flurry, he throws on his suit—unknowingly backwards, he realizes later—trips at least three times over his own footing before he finally springs out of the balcony with webbed bursts.

When he reaches his destination, Captain America and the Winter Soldier are unimpressed; mid-simulation, it powers down. Both super-soldiers whirl around to face him, fixing raised eyebrows at his disheveled arrival.

He adjusts his now front-facing suit and shuffles forward into the space with as much confidence as an interrupter can have. “H - hey, guys,” Peter greets sheepishly and manages what he hopes is a charming smile, absentmindedly fidgeting with his phone. “Lookin’ good for a couple of geezers.”

Unfortunately, Steve Rogers is not charmed or disillusioned from the tardiness. “You’re late, Parker.” His arms fold, and he shakes his head when punctuating his disapproval with an echoing, “Again.”

Thankfully, to his right, more relaxed and cool, Bucky Barnes steps up. “C’mon, Stevie. Y’can’t be that surprised,” he chimes in matter of factly, contrasting against his friend with amusement sparkling in his blue eyes. “What’d you expect with Parker?” He gestures at the younger superhero. “Kid’s gonna be late to his own wedding.”

(Beside the point, but worth noting, he will not be late to meeting you at the altar. That is, of course, if you accept when he pops the question. Which is going to happen relatively soon, considering he has the ring in his nightstand drawer.)

The consult seems to relax him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right and—Peter, you—seriously, man?!” Steve sputters the last bit when he glanced over to see him blatantly check the notification that’s vibrated in his hand (on the device that is ruled to be stowed away during training). “Now the phone?!”

Even though he shouldn’t, being on thin ice with Cap and all (pun not intended), Peter’s gaze flickers down to see your contact name appear on the screen, and he can’t resist. While Bucky guffaws a laugh at his audacity, he’s swiping up to pull up your text thread.

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:37AM: spider boyyyyy you’ll never guess what i found in a box labeled ‘peter’s junk’ ;;;)

peter, 10:37AM: those magazines are NOT mine and i don’t know how they got there.

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: not quite but close, naughty boy

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: for a man who depends on keeping secrets and a penchant for home movies, you might ought to keep a lock on your phone unless you want someone to see me like this...

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: (video attached)

Immediately, he recognizes the pornographic thumbnail. One glance, and he’s remembering the first couple of times you guys explored the exhibitionism side of things. It was at the end of his freshman year of college and taped on a phone he thought he had lost. But he must've forgotten it at his aunt’s house, and she tossed it in the box until you came along.

Although there’s been plenty more made, he recalls that one being a shared favorite, his especially. When long-distance duty calls, it was his go-to media. The angles, your face and body beneath the lights, the sounds it caught, you once asked if he considered switching to cinematography instead of photographer

Subconsciously, his teeth run over his bottom lip, feeling that blazing spark of desire igniting in the pit of his gut, partially at the memory and partially at what’ll happen once you guys can re-watch it together; his thumbs start typing away with that message.

“Peter!” Steve’s exasperated voice snaps, but to no avail—the real gall of the youngster, or the effect of you. His weight shifts toward his best friend, and he nudges him with his elbow. “Kids these days!” The hundred-something year old’s gaze cocks a brow back over. “Is that why you were late? Blowing off training to text your girlfriend?”

The text delivers with an audible bloop. Finally, his concentration gives, and he can look up, though his expression is clueless from the last minute. “Huh?” His brain registers what he missed, and he winces. “Sorry, Cap. My bad.”

Bucky chuckles. “Give him a break, Steve,” he faux comes to his defense, a teasing quality underlying his tone. “He’s young and in love. It’s not his fault he’s pussy-whipped.” He cracks him an antagonizing grin as Peter rolls his eyes. “He can’t go an hour without sending those little weird pictures with heart eyes, or she might not know he’s thinking about her.”

“As if you know anything about romance, old man,” he fires back and presses past them with squared shoulders, correcting him quite seriously: “And they’re called emojis, by the way. But that’s not what I was doing, if you want to know so bad.”

The brunette tilts his head thoughtfully, and small hackles arise for reasons he doesn’t understand, or pay attention to. “You know, I do want to know really badly,” Bucky decides and poses a question to his left, “Wouldn’t you, too, Steve? Aren’t you curious what his girlfriend sent that was so much more important than training?”

The blond mimics his actions and clicks his tongue. “Yeah, I am.”

Peter’s eyebrows pinch while his skin tingles and the hair on the back of his neck stands straight up. “What—” Before his senses process it, one of the super-soldiers plucks his phone out of his hands and darts back beside his best friend. His jaw drops as he tries to follow after him. “Bucky, you asshole—”

“Some spidey senses, huh?” The Winter Soldier lifts it high over his head, utilizing his six-foot stature against his five-ten like elementary school bullies do and older siblings to their juniors. “Haven’t ‘cha heard about sharing with the class?” He laughs and practically stiff-arms him to squint up at the screen. “Aw, he can’t wait to see her. What’s it been, more than two hours since you two saw each other last?”

Conceding to the height difference, Peter stops his physical efforts and diverts it to someone reasonable. “Cap, you gonna help me out here?” he addresses the entertained onlooker in the most friendly voice he can manage.

“The kid’s got separate anxiety not just from his girlfriend but phone too, Buck,” Steve drawls with a lopsided curve of his lips. He side-steps Peter to stand next to Bucky, and for a second, he thinks he’s on his side despite the tease, but he simply adds a stern, “So be careful. You don’t want to break it, or Parker will have a fit.”

Peter crosses his arms and scowls. “Ha, ha,” he retorts dryly, only somewhat amused by their banter. He tilts his head up at them, and the duo look thoroughly pleased with themselves. “You know, you guys are kind of dicks.”

“No, we’re your mentors, kid,” Steve corrects with a wink and rests his arm on his friend’s shoulder. “This is a lesson. No phones—” He jabs his thumb back in reference to the device’s unlocked screen: “—when you’re supposed to be training.”

“Yeah,” Bucky chimes in upon glancing up from his phone. “And a little advice, women don’t like clinginess. Try being a little more stern and see how that works for you. If you’re able to manage that. But I won’t hold it against ya if you can’t.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter patronizes with a bob of his head, biting back a response pointing out the hundred-something year old’s inexperience. Instead, he focuses on the electronic readily loaded up with some private content. With that, he decides to do the rational and mature thing and ask nicely. “Noted. So, uh, can I have my phone back now?”

To his shock, Bucky merely flashes a smirk and his thumb scrolls half-heartedly over the thread. Thereafter, he leans toward Steve and raises his cell for him to see. “Oh, look, it’s a video,” he teases. “What could Y/N send that would take priority of training?”

There’s an unspoken let’s see then a metal finger taps the play button. Before Peter can think, much less react, Captain American and the Winter Soldier are watching how he effortlessly renders his pretty little girlfriend into a cute nonsensical yet eager mess—

In his point-of-view shot, the ratio holds in portrait view in a bid to capture every bit of you. Above you, the camera focuses on you and your beautifully debauched state beneath warm lighting where it’s unalienable that the camera was made for you.

Your eyes are dilated brightly, desperate with desire as your lashes flutter up at him. A sheen coats your features and glistens like glitter at the highest points of your face while the shape of your face is framed by your stretched arms.

Your wrists are bound over your head, splotched with expertly sprayed strong, white webs. The mesh sticks them together in a criss-cross, comfortable but nearly impossible to break out of, fixed in place atop his headboard. The tautness tugs a mild strain on your figure so your breasts are jutting out like an offering, and it’s obvious he’s taken advantage of it. Darkened marks adorn your glowing complexion, peppered across your décolletage with imprints of his teeth; including your nipples, sucked swollen and tender.

The angle trails down until it reveals the sight of him mercilessly pounding inside of you. His better-than-average girth is sliding in and out of your tight channel; slicked in shared translucent essence, creaming around the base, your inner walls visibly clinging to his cock with every backward stroke. His hand splays on your mound, using his thumb to abuse your engorged clit. He easily keeps the sensitive nub pinned under his control despite your wildly twisting hips.

Like the display, the soundtrack is equally obscene. Loud, your stuffed depths gush and squelch as skin slaps rhythmically. Your breathy, wanton moans overshadow both, drawn out whimpers, almost nonsensical other than the syllable of his name. A melody of neediness, you sound so fucking pretty, (depraved, like a whore, you once told him during your little film marathon with a sly smile), and for him specifically.

The frame pans upward and confirms you look just as good. A perfect mess, unhinged by the skilled ministrations of your boyfriend. Passion beads on your forehead like reflections off of a diamond. Panting, your lips are plumped from kissing parted with mewls of pleasure.

“P - please—I need to—can I - I please—” You’re begging like the sweet little thing you are, incoherent babbling the result of his excessive edging. Of course, you know better than to give into the sensations ravaging you; instead you ignore your visceral desire and ask him for your release. “Peter, please!”

A deep chuckle vibrates behind the camera as his big hand slides into view, trailing over your jiggling tits to the slope of your throat. “Maybe,” he says breathily and grasps the line of your jaw between his fingers. “Open your mouth first, babe.”

No more preamble necessary, you follow his direction, your pink tongue flat over your Cupid’s bow. Immediately, a long string of his saliva drips into view and onto your taste buds; the vulgar act is accepted with a swallow and a quivering moan of, “T - thank you.”

“Good girl,” he praises huskily, and the voiced approval has you visibly shivering. “Alright, then, pretty girl. Make it good for me, and c’mon—”

Before your otherworldly reckoning washes over you and his teammates can watch your bliss immortalized in film, Peter snatches his property back.

Not much force is necessary as Bucky’s grip has been stunned loose. A dark expression permeates on young hero’s face but not because of embarrassment; if he was still nineteen or eighteen, he would’ve been mortified that his titular superiors caught a depraved glimpse of his sex life, on both his and your behalf. Rather than, there’s just a flit of annoyance when he folds his arms.

“Shit,” Bucky is the first to speak, exhaling the swear raggedly. His blue pupils have widened in obvious attraction, dilated dark, blinking rapidly as if it’ll help calm him down from the clip of you, his innocent seeming girlfriend, all ruined and begging. “Parker, fuck, I - I didn’t know you got down like that.”

There’s a swell in his chest, pride beating steadily while he remains reticent-faced. He prefers you keep your bedroom activities secluded there. Yeah, he likes to be in control and you like to be controlled but it’s only in a sexual nature. Yet, their reactions—stunned, embarrassed and viscerally affected—surges smug satisfaction he’s never known before through his veins.

Even the prestigious Captain America is bothered, though he may try to hide it. He clears his throat, a flustered pink coloring his cheeks. “Peter, uh,” he says, barely maintaining the confidence to look him in the eye after witnessing his girlfriend like that. “We - we shouldn’t have invaded your privacy like that.”

“Uh-huh,” is Peter’s response, a hint of a smirk curling on one side of his lips. “Why don’t you guys call me after you’re finished with your cold showers, and we can actually train. Until then, I’m gonna go to my girl who’s more than eager to handle mine.” He pauses. “Maybe if you guys ask nice enough, I might let her show you how well I’ve trained her.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #marvel smut imagines #spiderman x reader smut #marvel smut #heh I am going to pass out #I..#goodnight im off me ass sjdjjsxj

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cloveroctobers · 3 years

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HARRY ZHONG (MITCHELL-WHITE)

IG info/bio: @/heedful.harry | 15.6k followers| hi, I’m Harry and I’m a business major. No, You don’t have to hold your applause 🧐

21 years old

From York, England

Cancer sun + ARIES MOON energy

He and his younger brother, Archie were foster children in the Mitchell-white household

which consisted: Harrison Mitchell and his daughter from a previous marriage, Briony, Piers White and together they had a surrogate carry their child, which gave them their second daughter, Pippa

Later they came to the decision to adopt Harry and Archie Zhong, if only that’s what they wanted too

It took longer for Harry to warm up to the family since he was still waiting and wishing for his mom to come back for them

He was diagnosed with IED around 15 years old

Goes to therapy for it and meetings with others with similar issues...he dreads the meetings since it makes him feel like he has a problem or something, which HE DOES but it makes him feel like a...but he knows that’s a ignorant way to think

He’s currently a business major and loves telling people about it *yawn* (don’t drag me lmao)

He’s thinking he’ll be a Financial analyst or a Marketing manager

The type of person who’s done a lot in his short life that it’s often unbelievable ex.) telling the villa he’s driven one of the cars that was used in the fast and furious franchise & getting pissed when bill and everyone else didn’t believe him

Harrison is a train driver and is normally bubbly + wears bright preppy clothes

He also loves Broadway, much to Harry’s annoyance...if he hears one more Hamilton song he’s gonna slam his head thru a wall stg

Piers is a music producer and is more reserved or “stand-off-ish” until he gets warmed up to you + his aesthetic is a rocker, yeah he’s got the whole tattoos and boots thing going for him, after all he was in a rock band

Piers makes the most $ and is of high status, which brought him and his family perks but is not a snob about it...it’s whatever ya know?

Harry’s closer to piers, feels he understands him more & can be kinda rude to Harrison when he’s in one of his moods but tries to be better at responding to him since he made him cry once years ago — yes he felt like complete shit afterwards

Harry is anemic so he always finds himself cold, experiencing fatigue, irregular heartbeat, and if he gets up too fast or moves too fast? Let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the—FLOOO000R! (I’m making this joke as a person with anemia)

Likes cold weather since everyone else can feel what he feels on the daily

Plus he loves dressing for winter season, trench coats, wool coats, turtle necks, thermal t-shirts, fleece pants, rolled up beanies that keeps his ears covered and his hair glued to his forehead...you name it!

On the regular? He’s a khaki’s kinda guy, dress shirts, and loves wearing suit and ties...he’s not the biggest fan of jeans. He loves dressing fancy unless the measurements are bloody awful

I’m going by the alternative design for Harry and...whew! Then he’s 6’1 if we’re talking about the one they gave us then we all know he has a baby face, so I’d say he’s about 5’8

He’s got long legs + arms and hates how majority of his pants barely fit around his ankles

has dry scalp too

I feel like he’s pretty intelligent and sometimes it can come off as a know it all, yet, he’s always down to help people & isn’t condescending while doing so

He knows how to make soaps and would sell them on his etsy account in highschool where plenty shat on him for it so for awhile he stopped the hobby until Harrison encouraged him to keep at this if it was what makes him happy

Harrison is the type of parent you go to for comfort and hugs even if it might feel like he’s smothering you

Piers is the one who lets you come to him when you’re ready to talk about it, no pressure

Harry went to a high school that focused on technology so he’s all into the latest gadgets

This is a secret but he only got a apple watch to feel like a true spy

His intelligence got him somewhere with a few ladies ;)

He’s a certified freak, 7 days a week and had a handful of hookups and about 4 gfs in his life so far

He’s kinky!!!

& has a f**t fetish

His past relationships were not long relationships, which sucked but Harry felt like...this might sound arrogant, but it’s either their lost — although there was never any bad blood with his breakups! or his person was still out there somewhere...

I haven’t fully played his route (AJ stole my ass since I couldn’t romance seb or Nicky sorry) but I’ve seen screen caps and he’s a total sweetie if he’s really committed to you, you might be his “true love”

He’s nervous opposed to his usual confidence when he’s chatting to other ladies with ease, with you it’s different, it’s magnetic, nerve-wrecking, butterflies, electric, and exciting all wrapped in one

I feel like he shows his love language with quality time but also enjoys physical touch from his partner

Picky eater

But he was worst as a child! Barely ate anything which led to him being lanky or it’s in his genes but mostly he wouldn’t eat a damn thing

These are a few of his favorite things: figs, green tea, and almond milk

makes the best spring rolls with the rice paper, those are superior than fried! “Fried food will kill u u know!” “Okay bill.” “Iona, don’t know if u had too much to drink but, erm I’m Harry.” “R/WHOOOOssssh! And you’re s’pposed to be the smart one, yeah right.”

outside of the villa he found himself continuing his friendship with bill—even tho he pisses him off sometimes since he’s always got some shit to say but they’re probably the closest, Iona she’s always honest and is always a good time to be around when they hang out, Then there’s Camilo and Miki that he hangs out with too

Is the first one sharing about his day in the group chat with all of the villa, he can feel half of them rolling their eyes at him since many feel he tends to exaggerate

if he’s not endgame with mc...he kinda feels a way that Genevieve found her happiness in seb instead of him, it’s not that he’s bitter—he genuinely liked her and felt like maybe they didn’t try hard enough but deep down knows relationships can’t be forced. It’s just his ego trying to control things that’s all! plus he was comfortable with vieve even if it felt more on a platonic side...oh well

once slid into jen from s1’s dms one dark stormy drunk night & admitted on live that erikah kinda gave him some tips before going on the show... & that he thought one of the new girls that entered the villa was a better fit than one of the originals from s2 which caused him to get blocked by said original OOP

Has a circle of close friends outside of the villa, they’re all brainiacs and have something going for themselves

Enjoys action films and biographical drama films like: James Bond, John Wick, and the social network

Isn’t ashamed to admit that he loves using sheet face masks but isn’t the greatest at following a consistent skincare routine

Has his own back massager that he spent a lot of $ on since it wouldn’t go on sale and then a week later...it went on sale

sends a lot of “🙃🙂” texts when you piss him off

probably worked at GameStop, the apple store, Godiva, and currently works at a electronic repair shop for a side of cash but is looking for a internship since he’ll be graduating next year

Always Keeps cough drops on him?

is a huge cuddler & falls asleep easily

His brain is always active, experiences REM sleep often

fav video games are tekken & hitman

owns a drone now 😏

also loves strategic board games & riddles

Took quarantine life seriously, did his research before it completely broke globally and started buying shit excessively in person and online that he sent most to his family before the campus shut down

Is the friend that will check on his friends :)

Keeps his dorm and his room back home CLEAN af, is OCD about everything being in order/organized. Will know if you touched his shit, Archie felt his wrath many times before

Has a life goal board in his closet, & plans to be fully established by 25. More power to ya Harry!

Celeb crushes: Victoria justice, Jesy Nelson, Deepika Padukone, Brec Bassinger, jasmine tookes, and princess Mae

Who does he listen to? oceanfromtheblue, Galimatias, Ta-Ku, Aries, Tyler, the creator, rich Brian, NIKI, viji, & AJR

Anthem = DPR IAN, “So beautiful”

#litg #litg3 #litg s3 #litg harry #litg genevieve #litg bill #litg seb #litg mc #litg oc #litg moodboard #litg headcanon #litg headcanons #yes I’m still doing these and it’s kinda challenging but at the same time not?

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jedwashere · 5 years

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A Billion Years Away - Chapter Three

Take Me Home, Country Roads

***

Country roads, take me home,

To the place I belong.

***

The Enterprise.

When they arrived in orbit over Harlak, Jallistra leant forward, staring at the view screen intently.

The planet Erlös was blue and pristine, similar to many planets of its ilk. She had gone over the statistics during the trip: gravity was less than a decimal point in strength below Earth’s, the New Deus colonists numbered roughly ten thousand, the oceans made up sixty nine percent of the surface, the ice caps were optimum size for a planet of this type… it was an idyllic world, in all respects.

And there’s a man down there who shouldn’t be, she thought grimly, resisting the urge to scowl. The message had said he was the Captain of the Buran, and while that might have been a lie (in fact it almost certainly was), Jallistra knew she needed to maintain a neutral stance… at least until the truth, whatever it ended up being, came to light.

“Captain,” West said from Conn. “We’re coming into standard orbit now.”

“Good,” Jallistra said evenly, standing to her feet. “Reddin, hail the surface.”

“Hailing,” Reddin said, tapping at her console. A moment passed, and she frowned. “Uh, they’re not responding, Captain.”

Jallistra felt her blood run cold. Has something happened already? Has he…?

“Wait!” Reddin called out. She tapped a control. “They’re responding now.”

“On screen,” Jallistra said, trying not to sound too relieved. Neutral, Alyn, neutral. He hasn’t done anything. Yet.

A face appeared on screen, though the image was ridden with static. It seemed to be an older man.

“Hello?” the man asked. “Who’s hailing?”

Jallistra straightened her uniform jacket. “I am Captain Alyn Jallistra of the Federation Starship Enterprise. I’ve been sent here to investigate reports of an anomaly.”

“Anomaly?” the man repeated. “We don’t - ah, but you might mean the strange light from which Captain Lorca arrived!”

There it was. “We’ve also been told about Captain Lorca, and have come to retrieve him.”

“Yes, that would be nice,” the man said. “He is down here, waiting for you. I will have one of our people tell him that you have come.”

“Thank you,” Jallistra said, trying not to worry. “We will beam a team down shortly to greet him.”

“We will prepare ourselves,” the man said. “Goodbye, Captain Jallistra.”

And then the image of the man disappeared. Jallistra let out a sigh of relief.

“Exec, you have the bridge,” she said quietly. “Reddin, you’re with me.”

She turned and headed for the turbolift, straightening her jacket again as she did so.

Part of her was concerned that Lorca, if he was an imposter (or if he was the man that Jallistra had read up on, which amounted to the same thing), would try to bolt, but she dismissed the concerns.

On a planet with no technology, where could one man go?

***

Erlös.

Two hundred and fifty years.

The number kept repeating itself over and over again in Lorca’s head, as he stared up at the ceiling from his bed. He hadn’t bothered changing from his assumed uniform, but even it was a reminder that everything he knew, everything he loved, everything he had achieved, was gone.

Michael, gone. Cold in the ground, rotten, or burnt and scattered to the winds, not even dust remaining, or shot out of a torpedo tube and drifting through space, alone, cold, preserved in the ice of the emptiness of space…

He didn’t want to torture himself thinking about it. He didn’t know whether Discovery had even gotten out of his universe, whether she had lived another minute after Georgiou had run him through, whether Georgiou had even stayed alive…

And for the first time in his entire life, he didn’t want to know. It was gone, and the memory of it was gone, and the memory of the memory was gone, and he was alone. Utterly alone.

A soft knock came at the door.

“Enter,” he said reflexively.

Laurien entered, a plate on a board in her hands.

“Grilled chicken, Captain Lorca, sir,” she said quietly. “As you requested.”

Sure enough, it was a chicken, alright. A whole chicken, but he was starving, so it would do. She’d put a salt cellar and a fork and carving knife on the board, and the chicken was garnished with pepper and herbs. Despite his mood, Lorca smiled.

“Well, this looks like a meal fit for a king,” he said, taking it from her. “Thank you.”

“I should tell you,” Laurien said quietly, “a starship has come into orbit. Dannik informed Eloise and she said to tell you.”

“A starship,” Lorca repeated. He sighed, before placing the board on his knee, picking up the knife and fork, and started to carve into the chicken. Laurien didn’t so much as flinch at the cracking of bones. “They tell you her name?”

“They did not,” Laurien replied quietly. “And we aren’t meant to ask.” She blushed. “In fact…”

Lorca frowned. “Yes?”

She looked even more embarrassed. “Before you said your ship had a name, I did not think ships could have names. They aren’t alive.”

Lorca had never asked about these people and their apparent aversion to technology - because it hadn’t interested him, and because he had other things on his mind. Now, though, he found himself curious.

“I’ve been neglectful,” he said slowly, smiling at her - the same gently encouraging smile he’d given dozens of times to - don’t think about her. “I’ve not asked anything about your planet, or your people.”

Laurien bowed her head. “Strictly speaking, Captain, I should not speak of it.”

“Some rule against it?” Lorca asked.

“Many rules,” Laurien replied, nodding. “Our sect - the denomination is called ‘New Deus’ - is against technology, and while we show kindness to outsiders, we do not invite them here. This is our place, away from the rest of creation.”

Described charitably, Lorca’s first thoughts were derisive at best. Coming fresh from war, his immediate thought was that these people were vulnerable, far more so than any race or people he’d defended during the Klingon war. He didn’t say that though.

“Everyone needs their own place,” is what he said instead. “I know that better than anyone.”

“I heard from Eloise,” Laurien said quietly. “I am sorry. I cannot imagine being as lost as you must feel now.” Lorca’s smile soured before he could stop it, and she lowered her head. “Forgive me. That was insensitive.”

“Well, I’ve been known to be pretty insensitive,” Lorca said quietly. “What’s the old saying about turnabout being fair play?”

Laurien smiled, and Lorca did too.

“Well,” he said, “I’d better finish this chicken soon and make myself presentable. Got a show to put on, after all.”

In more ways than one, he added silently.

Laurien inclined her head. “When you are ready, I will be outside your room. I shall escort you to the apportioned meeting place.”

She bowed deeper, before once again leaving the room. When she was gone, Lorca took a deep breath.

Well, Gabe, he thought, time to see if we’re still any good at lying. He gave a mirthless chuckle. We are two hundred and fifty years out of practice, after all.

It wasn’t a funny joke, and he didn’t laugh.

***

When the transporter finished materialising her, Jallistra took a deep breath, and smiled.

Despite the seriousness of their mission, she found the scenery of Erlös beautiful. There were trees surrounding the clearing where the little settlement lay, and the road was a simple gravel path. All around were people in robes, walking about their daily business.

How peaceful it must be here, Jallistra thought, taking a few steps, Reddin right behind her. As she did so, a woman in white robes walked towards her, raising one hand on greeting.

“I am Eloise,” she said, smiling coolly. “I am blessed to represent the people of Erlös.”

“Captain Alyn Jallistra,” Jallistra introduced herself, “and this is Lieutenant Faye Reddin, my tactical officer.”

“I cannot lie and say it is a pleasure to receive you,” Eloise said, “but you are welcome here. I believe you are here for Captain Lorca?”

All business, Jallistra thought, her smile fading.

“Yes,” she said. “How… how is he?”

She figured asking ‘has he murdered anyone’ would be a bit on the nose.

Eloise only shrugged slightly. “He is as well as a man who is two hundred and fifty years from his true time and place may be. Would that we all took the pain of loss with such… stoicism.”

“You sound like you admire him,” Reddin said from behind Jallistra.

“I admire the quality of stoicism, as much as any personality trait,” Eloise said. “There is nothing he can do, and so he does not rage.”

He might, still, Jallistra thought. She had never been a counselor, but she knew from experience that bottling emotions was bad for anyone. If this was the Lorca he claimed to be, then there would be a point he snapped. If he wasn’t…

Cross the bridge when you get to it, she thought.

“I would like to speak with him,” she said aloud.

Eloise turned, looking across the way towards one of the many buildings, and Jallistra followed her gaze. Sure enough, there was a man in a Starfleet uniform walking towards where they were, a young woman in white robes ahead of him. Jallistra took a deep breath as he reached them.

“Captain,” he said, looking her up and down. “I’m Gabriel Lorca.” He looked between Jallistra and Reddin. “I assume you’re the rescue party?”

Jallistra nodded. “Captain Jallistra. U.S.S. Enterprise.”

There was a twitch on the man’s face, though he smiled quickly to cover it. “Is it bad that I kind of wish you were Chris Pike in a gold shirt?”

Jallistra smiled tightly. “I don’t blame you, Captain Lorca.”

“Not much of a Captain, am I?” Lorca said, shrugging dismissively. “No ship. No crew. Nothing. Even this,” he pulled at the fabric of his uniform jacket, “is just something our friends here put me in. Not to sound ungrateful,” he added to Eloise, “but… it’s not really my uniform. I don’t belong in it.”

Interesting choice of words, Jallistra thought. She smiled.

“Let’s get you back up to the Enterprise, Captain Lorca,” she said quietly. “Then we’ll see what we can do for you.”

Lorca nodded. He turned to Eloise again. “Ma’am, thank you for your hospitality.” Then he turned to the young woman who had walked over with him. “Laurien. A pleasure to have met you.”

“It was nice to meet you, as well, Captain,” Laurien said. “I cannot say I hope we meet again, but… well, it would not be disagreeable to me.”

“Nor me,” Lorca said, smiling - the first genuine smile Jallistra had seen. He turned to her. “Whenever you’re ready, Captain.”

Jallistra nodded and tapped her combadge. “Jallistra to Enterprise. Bring us home.”

It might have been her imagination, but as the transporter began dematerialising them, Jallistra could have sworn Lorca winced.

***

AN: Been ages since I’ve posted this to this site, though it’s considerably more advanced in its posting on AO3. Of course, between my starting this story and Discovery season 2 finishing, this entire story’s become somewhat AU, but that’s alright. We can work with “AU”.

#Star Trek Discovery #captain lorca #gabriel lorca #happy ending at some point maybe #or maybe not #still cant tag for shit #the plot bunnies have shotguns #And phaser rifles

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ofcourseshesbetter-archive-blog · 7 years

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So, yes, this happened! I still don’t have the proper ability to comprehend that I got to this milestone. I made Mary on a whim, assuming I’d probably not keep it going with her, despite my obvious love of her, thinking most people wouldn’t want to interact with her since she’s not exactly the definition of well loved in the fandom. But so many of you have made this such a wonderful experience for me on here, and made playing Mary so much fun. Thus, lets get on to the shoutouts!

THE GINGER NUT SQUAD (aka the CAH group of fuckery):

@hisjiminycricket

Serah, you are genuinely one of the sweetest, kindest and most loving people I can say I’ve had the fortune of getting to know. I swear, you don’t have a bad bone in your body and oh I admire you so much for that. I know I can always go to you with anything, big or small, or just someone to fangirl over Warstan about... You’re one of a kind. Thank you for putting up with me and my craziness. I know i’ve told you this a million times over but I absolutely bloody love you.

@mvcrofts

HAYDEN MY LIL FELLOW CATS DORK WHO I LOVE TO THE MOON AND BACK! I don’t think anyone else on here would go with a random idea about a ship I had out of no where and build it up the way you somehow do with me with Mycroft and Mary. You make me laugh to the point of tears, you make me smile like nothing else. I can’t put into words just how much I genuinely adore you. You’re a wonderful person inside and out, and I feel so lucky I get to be your friend.

@bakerstreetsconsultingsociopath

Aly! While you constantly drive me crazy saying Aussie slang THAT NO ONE HERE USES, I still love you so much. Your Sherlock is so quick witted, so much like in the show, which makes me so happy with the threads we do because I love getting to write Mary being a sassy little pain to Sherlock. Somedays I swear to god we have the exact same relationship as Mary and Sherlock but that makes things all the better. You portray him in such a brilliant way and no one else can take that from you <3.

@nctanthca

MIRANDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! The many extra A’s all in caps lock should be a proper indication of how much I’m actually obsessed with you, like lowkey though I think you’re so incredibly funny and charming and sassy ( just like Anthea) and I just... No words. Not only are you a talented writer, OOC, you’re so chill and easy to talk to. Plus, I love the little friendship Mary and Anthea have, just the two of them being total girls, drinking all of Mycroft’s whiskey and reminiscing on their younger years. I couldn’t imagine it all any other way.

@psychopatx

Jack, or should I say Jim because you sometimes actually terrify me with just how much you are like him. I don’t think you realise how well you portray him, how well you do him justice. Your love and passion for him, and his story, his personality, just everything about him is so lovely to watch as you grow and develop him in a way the writers could never do - which, Jim deserves. Also, your cosplay of him is fucking incredible, just so you know.

@thenewsexy

Ali!! My Marene partner in crime! While our interactions on here are limited, I’ve gotten to know you pretty well OOC, and you are just so sweet, so adorable, so freaking cute I can’t use any other words to properly describe you. Not only are you actually stunning af, you’re so talented at writing Irene, you put your own spin on her in this perfect little way that just works so well. Never ever leave, okay? Because no one else would love on Mary & Irene in the way the two of us do ahaha!

@deadcentred

Sara! Or should I say, the actual living embodiment of Molly Hooper. I’m pretty sure the two of you were twins in another life. While the majority of our interactions have either been OOC, or briefly in memes we’ve sent one another, I love reading your threads, I love the voice you give to Molly, the one she certainly deserves to have because Molly Hooper deserves all the love in the world. We really need to write more IC, because much like Amanda - I need the Molly and Mary spinoff where the two of them lounge around, drinking wine, and just being total girls while the boys are off being boys.

THE BAKER STREET GANG (AKA THE LOVELY PEOPLE WHO SOME REASON TALK TO ME AND WRITE WITH ME CONSTANTLY DESPITE ME BEING TRASH):

@losingsiide

MAC! Aka, the biggest dork in the world who I just want to snuggle and protect away from the world and hug till I can’t hug no more but unfortunately I’m on the other side of the world so it makes it very very hard. There is very few people on here like Mac. He’s the fucking bees knees (yes bee reference was very important). Every conversation I have with him is never boring. He always manages to bring my mood up, make me laugh till I’m physically crying with tears, for some reason deals with my obsessive love of Mary (and encourages it), and joins in on my never ending thirst for Martin Freeman. To have a friend like him in this shitty world, I just feel really fucking lucky. If you haven’t got to know him the way I do, do it. Because not only is Mac a brilliant Sherlock, but he’s also a terrific friend.

@suumuxor

Allison! I’m pretty sure you could probably already guess what I’d say about you, but it don’t matter cause I’m gonna say it all, ka-peesh? If you haven’t checked out mother fucking Abigail Holmes (yes she’s Holmes not Stewart that was Mary typing okay don’t correct me correct her) is one of the best OC’s out there. Period. She’s so well thought out, well developed and fits in seamlessly into the framework of the show. Not many OC’s can do that which is a testament to just what an incredible writer she is. Also, hers and Mary’s friendship is the definition of #GOALSAF. I mean, who wouldn’t want their friendship, let’s be real here? I never ever want to stop writing with you, because I can’t imagine Mary without her BFF.

@watsonofagun

Angie! I started following you on my old account as Rosie, and to be honest - I was so intimidated by you and your freaking quality af writing that I could barely talk to you. Then, I made Mary, I got talking to you and all my fears went floating away because you are the definition of being sweet as a cupcake. I love talking to you about random little headcanons I think of at the most peculiar times of night, I love each new thread we write together, and most of all I freaking love you and your John. As Mary said to John, “You make me so happy” - every time I get one of your replies I smile excitedly for what seems like forever and then respond to it into my queue as soon as I can, because I know whenever I get a reply from you - it’s going to be a good one! Plus, you’re never allowed to stop writing with me okay because it’s not allowed, get it? Good!

@julietthotelwhiskey

Michelle, oh wait no I’m sorry, I forgot I was talking to Dr John Hamish Watson. While we’ve only got a couple of threads going on, they’re all so stupidly happy which, with the angst ridden agony story that is John and Mary, the two of them need a little happiness. I could never get bored reading your writing, not only just the ones to me, but with everyone else. Every little thing you do while writing John is so on point, it’s like Martin Freeman is sitting behind the screen writing it all himself. I really hope we continue to write together ( all the happy things, obviously, although I’m sure there’ll be a time where we somehow write something angsty together), because to get to write with you makes feel very, very lucky, okay? You’re so bloody brilliant and you should never forget it.

@geniusofdeduction

Tasha! I don’t know how you do it, but man oh man, your Sherlock is so bloody brilliant, always on point with absolutely everything and anything he says. how you manage to have dealt with him for as long as you have, I give you props (considering I used to RP Sherlock ages a go and gave up after a month). There’s a reason you have as many followers as you do and it’s truly because you write him in just a way that is perfectly yours, but also in the way that incapsulates everything we all love about the quirky pain in the butt that is Sherlock Holmes. I definitely feel lucky to get to be one of those people you choose to write with among all the brilliant people you could.

EVERYONE ELSE WHO FOR SOME REASON HAS WROTE WITH ME IN THE PAST OR I CONTINUE TO STALK FROM THE SIDELINES INTIMIDATED AF BECAUSE AS MENTIONED BEFORE, IM ACTUAL TRASH:

#( i just do as i'm told; out of character )#( give these guys all the love ok? )#( so many wonderful writers i just heart eyes to everyone )#( it was about time i got to doing one of these )#( im sorry if i forgot anyone but i went through as many people as i could remember and all the people i follow that i watch and read things #( but here you guys go! bias/follow forever list)

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jessdunn18 · 7 years

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dennis

@drfrankenhyde Dennis was a loner and had too much time on his hands. His thoughts often got the better of him. He was 6'2 pale and built like a plump ham. His parents commented on his biggest insecurities often. His father who was the shape of a tree stump would mock his weight. His mom who was like a mix of a hobit and a tomato would mock his complexion and his stature. His dark hair and eyes made everyone assume he was goth. Nope just depressed. He had a hunched posture that he only fixed when he had to serve up burgers to the ungrateful jackwads that pissed and moaned about "too much mayo" at the "sub slammer" a hoagie shop perched between a subway and a quiznos in his food court. He remembers what he thought the first time he saw the place on his 14th birthday while he was stood between his then friends Jake and Austin. "Is this some kind of a joke" However since then the subway had gotten a few too many bad health inspections. The quiznos had been taken over by sketchy people since it was the only food court area that was open 24-7 and it was virtually made uninhabitable by us normal folks. Now he shoved out shitty knock off subs at prices that were just a dime or two under the prices and a hair or two below the quality. Literally there was a girl named libby making them whose hair was flying out like it was afraid of her scalp.

Each night Dennis went home, chucked his 4 dollar "SS" cap into the corner and perched himself in the tiny office chair in his room. A room that was meant for a 5ft nothin' highschool home coming queen. The ceilings were low the walls were beige and the door was a tone of peach only described as "Vomit". He'd sit in front of his computer searching and clicking and sometmes jacking off until his eyes were blood shot orbs of disturbed mass histeria. He watched conspiracy theory videos, he watched videos of people being blown to bits by bombs and high powered rifles. He'd go onto the 50/50 page of reddit and hope for the gruesome ones. He even winced in anger when he saw a puppy playing with bubbles once. He would usually wake up after slumping down and feeling the rush of cold drool against his chin stuble. Tonight was no different he stood up slowly and stretched making a shadow on his wall the looked like bruce baner turning into the hulk. "hah, i wish" he thought to himself. He slumped over to his bed which was a twin. His parents really wanted a girl. He fell asleep as usually painfully heaped into a fetal shaped mess barely covered by his blankets. "God i hate this fucking room" he said and passed out. After 4 hours of something inbetween sleep and an awkward balancing act he woke up to a shouting match going on between his parents in the hall. He shook his head and stood up and hulked over to the door and looked out to see them screaming. "Dennis, will you tell your mother we are not..." "oh gee dad i'd love to bu-" *Door slam* "Fuckin' nuerotic windbags" Dennis sat back down his his chair and rubbed his eyes. He was going to give it another college try. You see he would just fuck around online at night. Trying to see shit taht would mentally scar himself. However during the day he researched ways to actively end his existence. "The sooner i'm dead the sooner these fuckers can either divorce or hate fuck and concieve the little girl they've always wanted" he coughed to clear out his throat and lungs.

"Uh...lets see here" he said talking to no one. "Suicide no pain...no mess..." he typed out those words and pressed enter. His slow computer took ages to load the results. "Oh come the fuck on..another reason to do it" he said and chuckled. "aha!" he saw the screen finish loading and a result came up that was an answer to his prayers. "...Dr. Marve for the psychiatirc college for human on human intervention invites anyone wanting assistane reaching their demise to take part in this ..." he continued reading and clicked on the link. He found a phone number and an address and walked down the street and used a pay phone so his parents wouldn't have any evidence of who was involved. They never wanted him and he didn't really think they loved him but...he new some how they'd be pissed at whoever helped him. He popped a coin into the all but rusted dial. He feverishly mashed the buttons almost missing the last seven with his burly hands. The phone started ringing and he chewed his lip as the held the reciever to his ear. He smelled like a mix of sausage and B.O. "Uggghh now i know where the homeless sleep...uh..." just then a woman picked up. "Uhmmm...*clears his throat* ...is this Dr. Marves self end assistance office n 91124 bridgetown , washington?" "Why yes it is ,why is it that you're calling, ...?" "..well i...uh" "...just kidding we know why already just a little post post moterm humor" the woman said with a giggle and under any other circumstances this would have freaked him the fuck out. However he had called her. "uuhmmm ...anyway ..i was wondering if i could make an appointment for a consultation..I have the money ...." "Oh no its free the people who pay are the ones who apply to assist the dead" The woman said. "Oh...awesome..i mean...cool" He stammered. "Yes it is.." she said sounding almost evil. "uh..you mean this really doesn't like bug you? to work some where that helps with this sort of thing?" He asked feeling odd now about it himself. "oh no we just ask that the individuals make absolutely sure they have nothing to live for or leave behind. We don't like a lot of loose en--- i mean ...messy paperwork" She answered sounding as if she was smiling. "well thats me, i'm 22, no life, no friends,,nothing..not squat..so uhm when can i come in?" He asked getting back to the point. "walk ins are welcomed" She said seeming to soften up her odd eagerness. "great i'll be there this afternoon..bye" Dennis hung up and started walking to the bus station.

He came upon the bench which was empty. Which was good because the last thing he'd want was some old woman making small talk with him. He imagined the conversation in his head. Her asking him "where ya headed" him saying "to an appointment" and from there she'd either bore him about details about her ever present medical visits which would lead him to either rudely stare forward and ignore her or blow up in her face about how ..thankful he was about being on his way to kill himself. He saw the bus approaching and shook himself internally as to stop spacing out. He whipped out his bus pass and steped onto the bus. He got on and the bus smelled even worse than the phone reciever. Like a mix of pepper farts and garbage juice. "uggghhh now i know where the homeless fuck..." he said under his breath. He picked a seat. It was acrossed from a man wearing headphones and texting. He could make out the messages on the reflexion in the glass behind him.

"vanessa speak to me, its been two days, I know i proposed at lego land. i see that was wrong now i'm so so so so sorry.." *send noise* All Dennis could think to himself was ..glad I'm about to dodge that bullet. He smiled to himself and leaned against the back of the seat and dozed off.

He woke up to the bus jolting and him almost flying off of his seat. "Whoa shit!" he said catching himself against a somewhat sticky pleather seat. That had tears so old they now looked like old war wounds. He stood up and shook his head awake. He saw the clinic sign as he stepped off of the bus.

"Dr. Marve's, Where we make life complete" He rolled his eyes and began walking toward the door. The cliinic was a little hole in the wall. He looked like it used to be a chinese restaurant or something. It barely seemed big enough to do any kind of medical shit. He got closer to the door and looked the place up the down. "Hmm, guess this is as good a place as any to die" he shrugged and reached for the door handle. It creeked and he felt goosebumps rise up on his arms. "Christ!" he said he steped inside and a blinding light sent his pupils into spasms. His vision got a bit blurry "Oh shi-" he said blinking quickly so his eyes were adjust as the door shut behind him. "Welcome, can i have your name and why you want to die" he heard as his eyes regained focus. He recognized the voice from the phone. "Hi, I'm Dennis, people used to call me Denny, my dad calls me Denise!" He said sarcastically and walked up to the counter. "And why do you want to die?" The woman said a small smile that looked painted on stuck fast on her face. "A lot of reason, I'm overweight, my parents resent me, i have no friends, i work in the food court and i can't even make a pastrami on rye right..." he was cut off by the womans interuption. "no no...the most poinient reasoning, ...like...for instance if you were struggling with your sexuality, if you were in some kind of horrible chronic pain, if you were terminally ill and afraid that it would get worse, multiple personality disorder, someones threatened to kill you or maybe multiple someones and you wanna beat them to the punch" she said making a small punching motion inward like friends do in cheesy buddy movies as she smiled at him and tilted her head. "The fuck..? No...i just hate my life, ...don't peopl ever come in here wanting to die for that reason?" He asked almost becoming angry. "Yes...and some of this back out..and we like no mess as i've told you ...so i was just making sure..." she spat back at him and then looked down at some paperwork. "now....uhm lets see here the doctor can see you...." she paused for what felt lie 20 minutes. "Now...." she said perking back up and smiling at him. "...right through that door". She pointed at a large steel door that looked like something out of a psyche ward. "uh..thanks.." Dennis thanked her timidly and started lurching over to the door. There was no hint as to what was behind it...there was a small window but it was boarded up. Whiched seemed more than a little sketchy but Dennis didn't care. He was tired of being alive. He had been depressed and sad and emotionally devoid for too long. He lacked any kind of motivation or want or need out of life. He had nothing to lose and nothing to want. So he oppened the door and thank god it didn't screech at him and there were no blinding lights. Just a sign that said "don't touch wet paint." the sign looked old. He found a door that said "Dr. Marve" He knocked softly. "Uh..doc ya in there" He said feeling his voice crack and realizing how dry his mouth was. "One second suzanne..." he heard from behind the door and a few foot steps later and he was face to face with a man who didn't look like the kind of guy you'd think would want to end lives for a living. "Hello, you must be the young man who called earlier" he said smilng. "i spoke to your receptionists tho-" Dennis started. "i have all the phones tapped, so uhm..whats was your prefered method of...Danny..?" the Doctor asked him. "Its Denny...can i come in or...?" He asked. "Oh yes sure..." the Doctor said and leaped out of the way and two stepped back to his desk and sat down. Come take a seat. "Okay..." Dennis sat down and looked around. "Are you sure you are the right doctor, i mean you don't seem like the kind of person who wants to help people kill themselves" Denny said the doubt showing up in his voice. "What makes ya say that, is it cause i'm a doctor, aren't doctors meant to end suffering, life is suffering so by helping people end their lives i'm ending the leading cause of suffering" Dr. Marve said seeming a bit annoyed but stil too chipper for Dennis's liking. "hmm...Okay..ya talked me into it...You asked me my prefered method...what do you recommend?" Dennis asked sitting back and relaxing a bit in the chair.

Dr. Marve looked puzzled and also sat back in his chair. He spun around and looked out the window. "Well, that depends, Denny,...do you want pazazz and bang or something quiet...do you want a rush...or something small.." he slowly started turning back around. "..do you want TO BE COMPLETELY OBLITERATED ...OR DONATE THAT SLAB OF FLESH YOU CALL YOU TO SCIENCE?" He said finishing off yelling in Dennys face. Dennis didn't even flinch. "Doc, look i'm starting to think this place isn't legit. Between you and better bozo out there i'd swear this fucking place isn't an office or medical clinic at all, but just you and some bitch who escaped the psyche ward and wanna freak people out" He finished what he was saying and began playing with a loose piece of rubber on the sole of his shoe. Dr. Marve sat back down and brushed the small wrinkled out of his shirt. "no no...i could see where you'd get that idea but no...i just like to get someons blood pumping one last time before it stops, now...how do you want to die?" He asked again this time quietly but looking Dennis straight in the eyes. He pulled out a syringe and walked over to Dennis. "what the hell are you gonna do with that?" Dennis said tensing up in his chair. "nothing...unless you want me too" The doctor placed the syringe on his desk and leaned on the edge of the desk with his arms crossed. "Hell, i'll even leave and you can do it." He said nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders before walking back to his chair. "okay. I wanna be put down in a decent way. I'll take the injection..but i'm a big dude make sure you've got enough to do the job there doc." Dennis said and pulled up his T-shirt sleeve. "oh it'll do the job." The doc said and picked up the syringe and walked over to Dennis and pushed it into his upper forearm. After that the doctor tossed the syringe in a plastic binned marked "sharps". At first Dennis didn't feel much. Then he felt his fingers and toes going numb. He felt his nose twitch. He wasn't feeling pain. He felt like he was falling asleep sort of but one of those hidden sleeps. Like you're tired but not tired enough to admit it and before you know it you're waking up and its morning. Dennis felt his mind become less aware which was probably a blessing. He looked around the room one last time the walls were turning into jello and Dr. Marve was knealing down to check his pulse. "Almost there"...He felt nothing and it seemed over. Everything went black and he thought "so this must be death...Theres a whole lotta nothing"..he said in that dark emptyness for what felt like days. Just then something felt jagged...he could feel himself again. "Damnit, i went to hell...i was afraid of this..." He could hear voices...and he could smell chemicals and feel something like against his skin. Just then it hit him. "i'm not dead..I told them that little syringe full of shit wouldn't do the trick" He was alive but he couldn't open his eyes..he wasn't breathing. Just then he woke up...He was strapped to a bed...He was stuck there. He could feel his head getting foggier. He was losing his memories, his thoughts, his feelngs, his friends, his family, he felt panicked and then all of a sudden he couldn't feel anything. He couldn't remember who he was. "Denny boy!, how is my little patient?" Dr. Marve said walking over in a white lab coat that was covered in God knows what. "whose Denny?" he answered. "Well, my friend, you were,..you wanted to die...i'm sorry, Denny wanted to die..so we killed him, Now you can be whoever you want" Dr. Marve said smiling. "...who are you?" He asked. "i'm a miracle worker, and about to be bloody stinkin rich!" Dr. Marve exclaimed. "Are you sure about this Marve, are you sure no ones gonna come looking for him like they did the others?" Suzzane the receptionist asked a hint of sadness and desperation hanging in her words. "Don't be silly, he's just some kid...we'll let him lose and he'll be found by the authorities wondering around Zoosky park in his socks and boxers and they'll take him home where he'll have a new life where everyone loves him cause they've missed him." Dr. Marve said now sounding as if he was desperate to believe his own bullshit. "but he won't be him, not...not after this" she said panicking. "Thats what he wanted, Denny wanted to die, he's dead now, and now ...whoever this sap becomes next will be much happier you'll see." The doctor said stripping off his lab coat and putting on his regular coat and hat and grabbing his briefcase. "you're just gonna leave him here?" Suzzane said looking at Denny's body and stroking his face. "no we are, now come with me toots we've got plans to make!" He boasted and grabbed Suzzane by the wrist and pulled her out the door. She watched as the empty minded man strapped to the slab dozed off again. She hoped desperately that some of his memories would reform while there were out.

The next day Dennys body awoke and was now free of its restraints. Suzanne was standing over him with a smile. She rubbed his hand. "welcome back Denny, ...how was your nap?" she asked. "Denny,...is that me?" the person asked sounding less sedated and loopy. "Uhm...it was...., do you remember anything..?" She asked him. "I remember a needle...and darkness...and .." He looked up to the ceilng. "low ceilings" He blinked and smiled subtly. "But our ceilings are 12 ft high...?" Suzanne said feeling puzzled.

She handed him an sausage egg mcmuffin, Denny had hated eggs but she didn't know that. "Here i got something for you to eat just cause you don't remember food doesn't mean you shouldn't eat some." He took a bite and made a face...and then stared straight ahead for a few seconds. "what, what did you feel, ..or see?" She looked deep into his eyes...watching his pupils shift. He started blinking fast and spat the bite he had taken into a napkin. "why'd ya burn the eggs mah?" he said and looked irritated. "I'm not your mother..." she said and realized he could remember small things. She smiled but vowed not to tell the Doctor.

The man stood up and took baby steps around the room. He walked over to the mirror and looked in it. He tilted his eyebrows up and smiled. "Do...ya...uhm... do you remember yourself?" The woman asked. "Myself, ...thats me?" he said lookng at Suzanne then back at himself and mussing his hair up. "Yes, you came in here...and wanted our help and now..you...dont' remember yourself..or anything" She said as her shoulder slumped as she walked up to Bennys body. "Why did i need your help?" he asked. "you were...uhm..sad and unhappy..and now you can't remember why so i guess that's a plus" she said nearly cryiing. "It'll be okay" he said and hugged her. "How did you know to hug me?" she asked confused. "i don't know i must have seen it somewhere" The large man looked confused. "...so it does remember.." she said stroking her chin. "who is it?" Dennis asked. "..uh...nothiing....yet" she said looking him up and down. She walked out of the room and came back in with a pencil and paper and wrote down the alphabet. She held it up in front of him.

"Do you remember any of this?" She said. "Well, Duh, Those are letters, do you have anything besides eggs...i'd rather have pizza" He said. "Yeah i'll go get some pizza you go rest uhm...i'll be back" she said and sped off out the door lockng it behiind her. She hopped in her car and all the way to the pizza place she was smiling and thinking "shit shit fuck" at the same tme. She began talking to herself in the middle of traffic. "if he remembers somethings he might remember and be mad, but this is a breakthrough, if it worked...if it doesn't he could end up brain damaged in a week in Zoosk park lke Marve said...but no..shit...Suzzane you've gotta help him" she said and shook herself out of her conversation. She parked and ran in to grab two slice of pepperoni pizza, she paid with a $10 and said keep the change. As she charged back to the car she noticed a couple walking in and over heard their conversation.

"No Drew, he wouldn't just take off like that I know my Denny" The woman collapsed into the mans arms crying loudly. "There there Amy, We'll find him...He probably just passed out on the bus and ended up out of town at Rodgers again"

She watched them enter the pizza shop and sped off in her jeep back to the small clinic. She pulled around back and entered through the lab doors. She walked in to find Dr. Marve waiting with a tablet watching Denny's vitals.

"Oooh for me?" He said grinning. "uhm...no i got it for him..you can have the left over egg mcmuffin overthere though" She said smuggly and walked over and nudged Denny. "He won't wake up what did you do?" She said putting the pizza on a stand. "I'm fixing him, thats what he came here for so thats what i'm going to do!" He said. "You know he's sort of remembering things, and if we can trigger the good memories and keep him from remembering the bad long enough, he won't have pain attached to them anymore" She said trying not to sound bossy. "That wasn't the plan Suzanne, we were meant to find them a living host, someone who was alive but mentally empty who they could toy with for a bit." The doctor sad almost screaming. "Why not try someone with dementia or something inoperable" She stammered. "Because we need someone young and strong not some brittle old cow with dead brain cells this could be a breakthrough in mind control, it could lead to incredible things Suzie!" He said sounding like a mad scientist. "Don't call me Suzie, I haven't been Suzie since August when you..." she stopped and started scratching intently at her arm. "Cured you?" He said trying to prove a point. "You didn't cure shit, i felt empty with those memories, but at least i knew why i felt empty now...i feel nothing...!" she screamed and collapsed in tears. Just then Dennis woke up. "Why is she crying?" He asked looking slightly mad. "why do you care you don't even know anything" The doctor said scoffing at his unfunny remark. "I know enough" Dennis said. Just then he shoved the doctor out of the way and onto a syringe of his solution. He knealt down and looked at Suzanne she was scratching a gash into her forearm. "why are you doing this?" He said pull her hand away and covering her arm with his other hand. "because i had memories that hurt me...and he took mine,...and sometimes i wish i could remember, and when i can't i just..." she fidgetted trying to reach back and start again. "No.." He stood up holding her wrists and looking her in the eyes. "i'll help" he hugged her and they both heard the Doctor fall over with a thud. "Ill help you too." She said and sniffled while she wiped the tears away. The both took a slice of pizza and ate it. Then they lifted the doctor onto the stretcher and strapped him in.

A little back story on suzanne. She was sexually abused as a girl. Her parents left her for dead and the Doctor found her when she was a teen. He tricked her into having the percedure. He reconsidered it for a bit and then thought it would work out better on a male brain. She can't remember the abuse but there is still sadness and pain. Baseless pain and shame...without her minds ability to explain and so she does the scratching thing as a coping mechanism and reaactionary impulse. PTSD without any understandable trauma so the brain must create some kind of trauma or prompt the body to do so.

...

The walked out locking the door behind them. Suzanne and Dennis got into her car. He hit his head on the arch of the car door. "Yee-ouch damnit happens every time, fuck!" He shook his head and then looked around. "Where am i?, Where's Doc. Marve? Why am i not dead?" He said looking straight into Suzannes eyes, then down at her arm. "Oh god,,..Did i do that to you...f i did i'm sorry i didn't know what that syringe had in iti knew...i shouldn't have let him do...thi-" she put her hand over his mouth. She looked him dead in the eyes. "Stop, you're panicking, Dr. Marve attempted to wipe most of your memories. I dont know how much you remember but i've been trying to revive whats left of your memories...he originally was going to wipe your brain like a harddrive and sell you to some people who were going to use you and mind control you to do bad things Dennis" She said and pulled her hand away. "please call me Denny" He said and looked confused at himself. "do you remember the names Amy and Drew?"She said slowly. "uhm...Amy is...uhm.." He started stuttering and winced hard and was visibly in pain and laid flat against the cramped carseat. "whats ...wha---" Suzanne looked at him feeling horrible. "...she's my mom" he said smiling. "Yes!" Suzanne said starting her car. "Do you know a Drew?" She asked unsure of the result. "i think he's my dad..." He said sounding shakey. "yes!, i saw them and overheard them talking about you at the pizza place i wasn't sure until just now that you were the Denny they were talking about but now i know. I want to take you home to them, they miss you, my parents didn't love me, and in a way i know Dr. Marve saved my life back then but ...i can't remember anything and i only stay with him because i'm scared. its all i know" She said welling up and swallowing hard. "But you're not a little kid you're a grown woman, ...surely you want to do something else" Dennis said as they pulled out of the parking lot and went off to the pizza shop hoping they would catch his parents.

After about 5 minutes they reached the redlight before the pizza shop and A green Subaru was pulling out and Dennis saw it and it triggered his brain. "Thats my parents car!" The light turned green and they pulled out and followed the car until it reached the police station. It pulled in and they followed. After they did Dennys dad go out and walked up to Suzannes car as his mother walked into the police station. "what the he--whaaa...is that...?" he saw Dennis sat there in the passenger seat. "Dad?..." Denny said confused. "what do you mean. Dad?... of course i am come here!" he walked over to give him a hug. "I think you're my dad, so i'll hug you" Denny said and hugged him. "He thinks, what did you do?" Drew said looking angrily at Suzanne. "I need to tell you and you're not going to believe a word but the man responsible did the same thing to me only i don't remember anything. Your son still remembers you. The truth will be hard to hear but i save him and brought him to you and he's slowly starting to remember things. He came to the clinic i no longer work for as of today. He came in yesterday he wanted to die. He was tricked into thinking we offered assisted suicides. The man responsible attempted to wipe your sons memory it didn't work. If it had he'd be having his mnd controlled by someone else right now." She said breaking down into tears. "We gotta tell the cops and take them and go get this fucker!" His dad said. "I know exactly where he is too but we gotta hurry!".

Drew, Denny and Suzanne walked into the police station and poured their guts. At first the police didn't believe Suzanne until she was fingerprinted and just as she was about to be questioned her finger prints came back. She hadn't been left for dead. Her parents hadn't left her for dead in fact they had been looking for her all this tme. Her parents were contacted as Suzanne told the cops where the man who she now knew had sexually assaulted and kidnapped her was located her parents were contacted.

Denny was reintroduced to his parents, and himself. He learned to appreciate life. His mind was never quite the same though. He now is the manager of the Sub Slammer and invents knew kinds of sandwiches every month.

Suzanne is starting to remember things. Just not the bad parts.

Dr. Marve had his medical license revoked.. 20 yrs ago and is now serving extensive time in a psych ward where they do experiments on him to figure out whats wrong with his brain.

I know the ending wasn't a dark as you may have thought it would be but i hope its still good none the less.

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