#but I can't leave Any of them alive I'VE GOTTEN THIS FAR. FUCK!

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

minific :) hope u like it!! it doesnt have much of canon lore applied, and its Mann Vs Machine. Spy bein a dad when its far too late :(

----

The team had been split up when the robots attacked, and Scout and Sniper had gotten stuck together. Not that it was any issue for Scout, though. He figured the Australian wouldn't mind sticking with him for a little while, and so far, he hasn't left. But it's too quiet, even for someone like Sniper, the least talkative member on the team.

"Hey, you think the others are alright?" Scout looks at the marksman.

"Why wouldn't they be? They've better aim when close up than I ever bloody will." Sniper glances at Scout before returning his gaze to the hallway ahead of them. Broken robots lay littered about.

"Someone was here." Sniper frowns. "They must not be far."

"No shit, Sherlock-- is that blood?" Scout frowns, the red stain on the floor catching his attention.

"Yeah. Trail o' it, too..." Sniper frowns. "You follow it. I'll make sure there's no more of the bloody boltheads comin' down the halls."

"Gotcha." Scout quickly begins to follow the trail until he reaches the end of the hallway, where the rough smell of cigarette smoke fills the air.

"Ah. It's you." The voice of Spy says from the dark, and Scout flicks the lights on. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't... this.

Spy's injured badly. There's blood staining his suit in multiple areas, and what appears to be a gunshot wound to his upper body seems to be the main cause.

"Holy crap...!" Scout quickly snaps out of the trance he was in, and opens the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He digs through it, pulling out bandages. Of course he'd forgotten the medkits. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Scout, I am no doctor, but I don't think a simple band aid is going to heal a bullet wound." Spy glares at the runner.

"I'm tryna help you, man! Cut me some slack." Scout scowls, and Spy just sighs.

"Scout. Just... stop. I'm not making it out of this room alive. My leg is broken and I've been shot four times. It's a miracle I'm not already dead." Spy pushes the bandages away, fllicking his burned-out cigarette away with his other hand.

"Well... that's just morbid. I can use comms to get Snipes to find Doc?" Scout reaches for his headpiece, but Spy shakes his head.

"I want you to listen to me, boy. I don't want to be saved. I've accepted that I'm not going to make it out of here. It's better this way."

"Spy--"

"Shut up!" Spy raises his voice to a yell, before letting out a pained sigh, propping himself higher up against the wall. "Just... listen to what I have to say, Jeremy."

Scout's eyes widen slightly. He isn't wearing his dog tags, there's no way Spy could've known.

"How--"

"This will... sound familiar, I hope. I hate repeating myself." Spy lights a second cigarette. Hesitating. "27 years ago, I met a beautiful woman. She was everything I could've wished for... and we were happy together. As Tom Jones would say, I... dropped a 'sex bomb' on her. I was young then, and I ran from the explosion."

It all sounds so familiar. Had Scout heard this before? Where? When...? He can remember someone saying this to him...

Holy. Crap.

"You... You were the Tom Jones that I saw." Scout whispers. Spy just nods.

"I... It is one of my many regrets, leaving you and your mother behind. I was a coward. I suppose I still am, since it would seem I can only admit to this on the edge of death." Speaking is getting more difficult for Spy, and Scout can tell, hesitating before lowering his headpiece.

"Snipes. Find Doc. Hurry."

"Mate-? Wha--" The Australian's cut off as Scout tosses the headpiece aside, and Scout kneels at Spy's side.

"You're my dad. I-- I can't let you just... die here! There's... so much lost time to be made up." Scout starts unravelling the bandage. Maybe it's the shock stopping him from feeling the pain in his leg from a loose nail digging into his knee, maybe it's the sudden adrenaline rush. Doesn't matter. Spy needs to make it out of this alive.

"Jeremy." Spy's voice is calm, with the slightest hint of pain in it. Scout looks up at Spy, who takes his mask off.

He looks just like how Scout's ma had always described him, just... older, with streaks of grey in his styled-back hair and dark circles under his eyes that Scout had never noticed before. But they share the same blue eyes.

"I am proud to see the man you've become. You've made good friends. Your mother did amazing raising you." Spy pulls a photo from his suit pocket, holding it out to Scout. "Here. I kept this when I left. I always have it with me."

It's a photo of 2 year old Scout, with his mother and Spy sitting beside him, watching him open his christmas present: A baseball bat.

Scout looks back at Spy, his vision blurry. Spy smiles at him, whispering something in French that Scout can't understand, and Scout can see the life leave Spy's eyes.

"Dad?" Scout's voice is small, his eyes wide, staring at Spy's motionless body. He tentatively reaches over and shakes Spy's shoulder, but the Frenchman doesn't respond. He's dead. Forcing back a sob, he pulls the corpse into a hug as the sound of footsteps behind him come closer and closer.

Scout never got the chance to learn his father's name.

I AM SOBBING

THIS IS SO GOOD, I LOVE THIS! THIS IS JUST OUGH.

The angst got to me. I'm not gonna lie. This is so amazing, Anon. If you ever start writing these on your blog (or if you already do), please let me know because I will be your number one fan, I swear 💪

Thank you for sending this in. It is very much appreciated. Keep up the good work. You're an amazing writer, and I literally can't compliment you enough!!!

#ask #tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 spy #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #spydad #EVEYONE LOOK AT HOW COOL THIS ANON IS! #MiniFicAnon

[nurgletwh]

*pokes head up*

*sees the world still exists*

Huh. Look at that.

On a more serious note, having essentially dropped off the face of the earth from the perspective of almost everyone who's following me here or my works on AO3, I am alive. This was not in any great danger of changing any more than the normal (one can always get hit by a bus, for example), but it turns out I haven't been well.

My first clues probably should have been long before I found myself sleeping eighteen hours a day for 'no damn good reason,' but since there were also some extremely difficult and terrifying weeks at work and the stress that goes with it, it crept up on me.

Unlike previous times I've disappeared, it wasn't related to my mental health this time. Not that it's any better, really, because it turns out that my diabetes was creeping out of control. I wasn't monitoring the way I should have been, and I missed a doctor's appointment without rescheduling (which is terrible when you have ADHD, because fucking remembering to call someone to reschedule is damn near impossible).

Anyhow.

It turns out that chronic high blood sugar makes a person feel all sorts of crappy in vague and indistinct ways that, in and of themselves, don't really trigger a sense of 'something is wrong, I should see a doctor.' It just leaves me feeling 'bleah' and 'ugh' and unable to do anything but sleep when I stop moving.

I am so far behind on anything and everything fun. I owe everyone who has a pending comment on my works a deep and heartfelt apology. I didn't mean to disappear. I know several of you have been worried, and it turns out at least semi-rightfully so. Not that there was much any of you could do about it, which really just makes it feel worse. I apologize for any stress and worry this may have caused. I can't promise to never do it again, unfortunately, because I am:

a) human b) a human with ADHD, and c) a human who is horrible at keeping up with communication the way she should.

I want to do better; I will try to do better. I have actually managed to continue writing, albeit at an exceptionally reduced rate. That's picked up markedly in the last week or so now that my meds have been adjusted. Hopefully, it continues to pick up. However, I don't think things are quite where they need to be based on my personal blood sugar testing, but it's a strong improvement. I still don't have much energy, but when I get home after work and sit down, I only sleep for forty-five minutes to an hour, not four followed by crawling into bed for the night and still not feeling rested in the morning.

I hope to start working my way through my inbox on AO3. If you're following me here and see this before I get to your comment, hi! ♥ Know that I have read them all and they give me sparks of joy to think about, but I have been very emphatically squashing any guilt at my non-response for now. Feeling guilty is a potent anti-motivator for someone with ADHD. It makes a growing mountain that I can run away from like an Olympic sprinter, which means that the only way I will successfully get back on track is to not feel guilty or compelled, which is the opposite of how it works for many folk.

I also seem to have gotten into some fucked-up screwy mindset where my brain is telling me I have to have something ready to post (or nearly so) before I can answer comments now. Which is just... wrong. So very, very wrong. I'm working on that, too. Blood sugar fixing first, however.

Take care, everyone. I've definitely been thinking about all of you and have seriously missed having the conversations and speculations that go with successfully generating writing but also require successfully responding to comments. It's been a seriously sucky couple of months; here's hoping things improve.

♥

#personal stuff #my health #my life #mental health stuff

[gothamstreetcat]

You can take Wesley and Lilah and spin them off as leads of their own show post... I dunno, mid-S4, let's say (maybe Wesley and Lilah leave L.A. after the Beast attacks W&H, you can decide exactly when they leave).

Are there any other buffyverse characters, major or minor or just one-episode characters that would be significant characters on this spin-off as well? What would the general premise be?

Okay, I've decided I'm going to answer this instead of finishing my little gifset (which has literally been talking over my mind all day). I don't know if this was the initial intention of "you can take Wesley and Lilah and spin them off as leads of their own show..." but I really think I read it wrong as took it as a compliment? <3 I really need to came down, lol I swear that is all I ever do. They're the leads of my blog FOR SURE.

(I'm going to put it under the cut because I know it's going to be long and embarrassing)

It's actually funny you should propose this because ever since I was little some bit of my brain decided they did run away together?? I wasn't even really over the beast but they did end up together in my little childhood brain and have been together ever since. Just doing whatever they want and being in love. But honestly, as I have gotten back on the Weslah train I have thought a lot more deeply about this.

I think leaving after the beasts attack is obviously ideal but I also think it is possible after everything has happened. Even though they are dead and serving W&H, who is to to say they can't just fuck-off and leave anyway leading their best undead lives???? I also think they would travel a lot and just be normal about things? Like have a normal life; breakfast in the morning, going to the movies, late night drives on Wesley's motorcycle. I even would want them to be married, nothing big or anything - just at a courthouse and I think Linsey would send Lilah an anonymous note congratulating her (I swear to god I am only sappy and dumb for them, okay?)

It sounds silly and so plain but I just want them to have it all and that would be enough for me. I also think Virginia would be part of it too because I have this little idea in my head that she and Wesley had been in touch and writing letters back and forth. I would want everyone in the buffyverse to be part of it in some way, just to see how far the pair of them have come. And at some point Faith shows up at their door and crashes with them for a few years.

I also have it in my mind that Cordelia bargained with the Powers and everyone got a do-over (because I am a sucker for the early seasons where everyone was alive and together and happy). And at one point the group is trying to figure out where Wesley is and what happened to him, and they go to his house and see him and Lilah cooking breakfast and they see how happy they are together so they just leave him be (but at some point, they all do come together again even if things still are not the same (because I literally have an entire inner workings of Wesley and his trauma and my trauma and even if everything is good it will just not be the same, you know?) But Wesley still helps out from time to time with cases and everyone does get together for major holidays or whatever.

I may or may not be making any sense right now and I know this is becoming very long.

I feel like I should be really embarrassed for what I'm about to say (as I also proceed to tell you with nothing but a NORMAL amount of joy in my heart), but there are also two other scenes I play in my mind constantly and I definitely put myself in them.

The first scene is a court hearing against Wesley/Lilah, W&H, and the Powers; where Wes and Lie have to fight for themselves to be free of their contracts and to be able to be together (on the count of that dumb and pesky good/evil thing). I am literally the star witness in this scenario literally just so I can talk about how in love they are and I would have a huge binder compiled of various blog posts and novel texts, show moments as proof. And I would show my gifs, and go on a huge tangent about Wesley and how he saved Lilah (love saved her) from the beast and how he tried to free her from her contract and it should have worked. And then I would tell Eve that she looks like the person who should be getting everyone's coffee and that she's just jealous because Wesley's given Lilah more orgasms in one night then she's had in her entire life. In my mind and in the scenario I think this is so fucking funny.

Also, when I was a kid I didn't really have friends so I got super fixated on my favorite characters from tv shows and they were my friends. Of course I was so fixated on Wesley and Lilah so they were my friends and we were close, so in this last scenario I imagine us being apart for my years (and somehow not because my ban be from watching the show) and somehow W&H tries to trap Lilah into coming back and I'm going to be used as some virginal sacrifice (which is so silly and weird but it is honestly one of the few things I am good for). But things get worked out and Lilah saves the day (as my hero) because she is a strong and independent woman who doesn't need a job that treats her badly - she is literally stronger and smarter then everyone at W&H. And at one point in this scenario she fights the people of W&H off with a sword because she is a badass baddie and I will forever be in love with that picture of her holding the axe (it's a real crime she didn't get to use it).

I also wanted to add, though, I'm sure you have read it already: the tough get going (out of town) by thinlizzy2 is literally a perfect Wesley/Lilah run away fanfic. I read it a lot and I say it so many time but I get so emotional about the bit with the horses and towards the end where Wesley tells Lilah he loves her ("as his heart fills with pride in her for so many reasons") It is literally one of my TOP Wesley/Lilah fanfics, maybe third. Almost cannon ending because my top fic is til break of day and in continuity of things, that's my cannon ending for them (in terms of fanfic, I wasn't not going to link one and not the other).

#I am so sorry for how long this is #also I don't know if I should apologize for this. but I am sorry for going off and being weird #i have so many scenarios in my head and they literally all jumble together #asks #asks: kylia #about weslah

[and-stir-the-stars]

So in grab&go, if Evan manages to figure out any amount of what's going on, what would happen if he tried to confront mike abt it? Would he just double down on lies even in the face of proof, or would he try to explain it? Does he feel bad at all, or is it just so much better of an outcome from his perspective than Evan dying that he doesn't think of it that way?

Super interested in your Mike for this au. I've gotten kind of a vibe that not all of his reluctance to talk about their family is for the sake of hiding things; he could always be more detailed with lies (or is he a bad liar?), so maybe he's too fucked up over everything that he can't make himself talk about it? He intrigues me.

ooooh, awesome, awesome question!

first of all, I think if Evan were to confront Mike with evidence that Mike has been lying (whether Evan just thinks Mike has been lying about where Ev came from or has pieced together the time travel thing), Evan wouldn't be very confident or forward, not at first. Probably because he doesn't want to believe that Mike lied to him or did anything to hurt him. He starts laying out the evidence like he's just telling Mike a weird story that couldn't ever, ever be true before finishing it out with an "it's almost like you've been lying, but you wouldn't lie about something like this... right?"

Evan doesn't want it to be true. But he can see Mike's guard immediately go up even as Mike throws out a joke to reinforce the lies he's been telling. Mike keeps joking, and the jokes keep doing anything but calm Evan. Evan gets more and more desperate; "if you ever cared about me, then please, please just tell me the truth."

Michael redirects. He's still lying, but his tone becomes more serious, and he loses the jokes. Maybe Michael's lies are good enough (and Evan's desperate need for Mike to be telling the truth strong enough) that Evan believes him. Maybe Evan doesn't.

It would take a lot for Michael to tell Evan the whole-- or even just part of-- the truth. And, yes, I think it would hurt him to see Evan struggling so much to understand the truth of what happened. Evan being alive but hating Mike is obviously a far better alternative to the original timeline in Mike's eyes-- and something Mike honestly believes he deserves-- but like Evan, Michael wants his lies to be true as well.

At this point, Evan and Michael have had years together, getting to know each other and love each other. They've had years of memories of happiness and standing at each others' sides even when things are tough. They've built a whole life together, a life that's a million times better than anything Mike has ever known (even if it's tainted by the little wiggle of guilt deep down at knowing this is all built on lies). (this is also what makes the fact that Mike has been lying and manipulating Evan hurt worse, when Ev finally finds out. because Evan genuinely does love Mike and thought Mike loved him back)

Michael doesn't want to lose that. Doesn't want to lose the little brother who loves him, and he doesn't want Evan to lose the big brother he's grown to love and trust, either (not that Evan knows that they're brothers, but that's always how Mike will think of them). Depending on Evan's social life, Michael might be the only person Evan has to take care of him; if Evan's mad at Mike, mad enough to try leaving, then Mike is worried about Evan not having anyone to protect him. Even if there are other people who can protect him, no one could possibly protect Evan like Mike can-- in Mike's mind, no one else knows about the horrors of the outside world like Mike. It's a weird dichotomy of Mike thinking he's Inherently Awful and will ruin everything he touches vs no one else knowing what's out there or how to protect Evan from it all

I think what you said about Mike being reluctant to talk because he can't face reality is true in Mike's character for this au, and I think it feeds into what I was talking about above. He's reluctant to tell Evan the truth because the truth is shitty and horrible and Mike doesn't WANT it to be true. Mike can't let himself completely forget the truth for fear of repeating his past mistakes and not being able to keep Evan safe from the horrors of the world, but he can maintain this little bubble of happiness if he can just get Evan to believe that his lies are real, and Mike tries using Evan's belief to convince himself that the safest, happiest lies he has told are true, too.

#mike trying to protect evan from the ''outside world'' is in reference to a lot of things #william (who might still be alive in this au)‚ remnant‚ haunted animatronics‚ possession #but it refers to sadistic people who like causing pain in general‚ too. william isn't the only murderer in the world #or the only one who goes to such great lengths to cause so much pain #grab&go au #fnaf au #evan afton support center #anyway hopefully this makes sense lmao

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter one - “to wakanda”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1.5k

synopsis: reader works for what used to be shield as a highly skilled neuropsychologist. after the events in vienna involving the sokovia accords and a bombing, she gets an interesting request from friend and coworker sharon carter...a request involving none other than steve rogers and james barnes.

warnings: brief and indirect mentions of abuse/trauma

pairings: bucky x fem!reader

"I don't know Sharon. Are you sure I'm really the right person for this? I'm not, like, an Avengers level tech. Are you sure they don't want a genius or someone like Stark to do it?"

"Well, Stark is pretty busy right now, and honestly, no one knows psych like you. Not who I've met anyway."

"That is so not true. I'm willing to bet there's tons of other people you guys got somewhere who are ten times what I am."

"Agent (Y/L/N), in case you missed it, SHIELD isn't what it used to be. Sure we have old agents who aren't formally 'SHIELD agents,' anymore, but we don't have the expendability we used to. You're our best bet at the moment."

"Damn. I'm your best bet. I'm sorry," she almost chuckled, but then she thought for a brief moment. "Are you sure this is completely necessary? I mean, I saw the photo on the news. The quality's poor at best, and..."

She leaned in, discretely, and whispered.

"...not to seem like a conspiracy theorist commie or anything, but it kinda seems like people are jumping to conclusions here. Are we even sure it was Barnes who set off the bomb?"

Sharon looked around them, cautiously. No one seemed to be listening, but she scanned the room like her life as she knew it was hanging in the balance. She weighed her words in her head, making sure she picked the right ones, then formulated a response appropriate.

"Regardless of if it was him or not, Barnes still escaped. and before that, Ste-we'd been looking for him for almost two years. This analysis is necessary," Sharon brought her voice down even lower. "At least that's what I keep being told. Of course I'd like there to be more solid proof, but I'm not in charge here. He's gone, and they want to be able to find him and 'sort things out.'"

"'Sort things out,'" (Y/N) repeated, questioning the genuineness of whomever told Sharon that. "Unless they have hard evidence that it was him who set off the bomb in Vienna, shouldn't they leave that to uh...Captain America?"

She wondered how Barnes was able to escape in the first place. She saw the containment module he was in; there's no way he could've gotten out without a fight. ...But maybe it wasn't a fight. Perhaps it was a trigger word induced rage. (Y/N) understood a basic layout of the "Winter Soldier." SHIELD would've kept any information they had classified. However, after the fiasco in Washington, d.c. with Hydra and the whole releasing of all files predicament, she was able, with Sharon's help, to put together a simple outline. With that being said, he couldn't have broken out without going Winter Soldier mode. But doesn't someone need the trigger words for that?

“That's what a reasonable person would think, but once again, I'm not in charge," Sharon shrugged. "Things would probably be going a lot smoother if I was, but you can't have everything."

(Y/N) cracked a smile. Sharon was a friend, and a good one too. They'd known each other since before SHIELD was shattered in 2014. In fact, Sharon helped train her.

The only thing was: Sharon was a higher ranking agent and often withheld certain information from (Y/N). It frustrated her. This was where their personal boundaries got in the way of their professional ones.

She could tell there was something Sharon wasn't telling her, but she wasn't about to compromise either of their positions by pushing for information she wasn't supposed to know. Hell, maybe even Sharon knows something she isn't supposed to. Or maybe she knows something that Everett Ross wouldn't like. What if she was keeping something from him? Defying him? What if she was working with Steve Rogers? Now that would be interesting.

(Y/N) was used to secrets around her all the time. She knew Sharon had her fair share, and trying to figure them out wouldn't really get her anywhere.

"Right. Okay. Well, I'll get on this then. Thanks, Agent Carter," she teased in late response to Sharon's 'Agent (Y/N).’

Sharon offered a quick smile before walking off to attend to other business.

- - -

Pain. That was all it was. In every sense of the word. As she strenously made her way through the densely packed file of one James Buchanan Barnes, pain was all she could see. All she could read. It leaked out of the page and seeped into her skin like poison.

It was horrific what they did to him. She knew he had his memory wiped, had someone pull him out and stick someone else in. But it was more than just that. They took his past, his memories, his thoughts; and they ripped them from his mind, leaving an empty space to mold into their own. It was after this when Hydra, in every way they could, dehumanized him, made him less than. He was striped of his freedom, his control, his choice, his humanity, of everything that made him him. They beat and bruised and broke it out this empty human shell until he was nothing but a shadow of faded morality and consciousness.

But hell, she couldn't look away. She was glued to the aftershock of this horrible wreckage. All the years of studying Psychology and Neuroscience couldn't have possibly prepared her for the absolute horror that was his past, his abuse, his torture. It was heinous. Frankly, she questioned how he was still alive. How he still had the will and the drive to be alive. How do you live after that?

"Fuck," she breathed after eons of silence.

She seemed to lose her sense of time whilst she was immersed in the harrowing nightmare of Hydra's cruelty. 'Cruelty' doesn't even come close to doing it justice. When she came to, her desk looked like a bomb went off. Papers were bursting out of manilla folders, littering the linoleum surface with classified files and secret information. She leaned back in her chair, and gave herself a minute to debrief.

(Y/N) almost felt guilty, like she things she looked at were so vile, so violating that she didn't have the right to see them. Sure, she had read and analyzed all sorts of trauma and psychological profiles. But he was different. Something about James Barnes was different. It tangled her mind the fact that a person could endure all that. She could only imagine the effect that would have on the human brain. The possibilities are endless. Suddenly bombing the UN didn't seem so far fetched.

- - -

"Jesus Christ," (Y/N) murmured, staring at her office floor as Sharon finished explaining to her what happened at the Leipzig Halle Airport.

She sat mostly in silence as she pondered over the information just fed to her. Apparently Tony Stark gathered a 'team' to try and intercept Captain America - sorry - Steve Rogers and his (supposed) fugitive friend. It was chaos.

"What is this? Fuckin' Avengers Fight Night?" she wondered aloud. "How many people did you say were there?"

"Twelve total," Sharon clarified. "Five with Stark and five with Steve."

The psychologist shook her head, dumbfounded. "How did it end?"

"Steve and Barnes got out, but everyone else with them were captured and sent to the Raft."

"The Raft?!" (Y/N) exclaimed. "That's for, like, super humans! Not people like Sam Wilson or Clint Barton!"

"You're telling me."

Sharon seemed in agreement with everything she was saying. However, there was something she couldn't quite place. Like she was holding back. But holding back what?

"So what of Rogers and Barnes?" (Y/N) pushed.

Sharon got up and closed the office door before returning to her seat, leaning in, and lowering her voice. This secretive woman, god damn it.

"Well... That's what I came to talk to you about."

Oh boy. She didn't have a semblance of a single idea of what to expect. Apparently Sharon noticed.

"We're the only ones that know this. They're fine..." the agent trailed off, "They're in Wakanda, but they need a little help."

"Are you leaving?!" (Y/N) all but yelled before quickly slapping a hand over her mouth and uncovering it only to whisper, "Do you and Rogers have a thing or something? Cause' I don't know how else you would know all of this when I'm sure that no one else does considering he's now an enemy of several governments!"

"My relations with Steve Rogers are not the focus here." She could've sworn Sharon flushed. "But we have been in contact; I'm one of the few people he can trust right now, and I don't plan on letting him down anytime soon."

They totally have a thing.

"Noted," said (Y/N) with a nod, "but why are you telling me this? Does he want the profile analysis or something? I don't see how he would need it if he's known Barnes for however long."

"Not exactly..." Sharon fidgeted with her hands. "We need you to go to Wakanda.”

-

[A/N:] this is a repost of chapter 1 because my masterlist is being fucky

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky headcanon #marvel #steve rogers #bucky fic #bucky reader insert #bucky blurb #bucky drabble #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes delicate #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #captain america fanfiction #captain america civil war #black panther #winter soldier

[rattyoakenbitch]

❝𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞❞ ─ 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨

hey, it's not like you ever tried to stay . .

❥ content ; gn reader, angst, dark themes, yandere themes, toxic relationship

❥ warnings ; sxlf hxrm & mxtilation, swearing, verbal abuse, manipulation, slight nxdity lol

❥ synopsis ; all you wanted was his attention. and by the gods, you were going to get his attention by any means.

❥ a/n ; first mello fic (: i've been wanting to write something dark for a while and ig i finally got the opportunity lol. i thought i got out of my death note stage but i'm back, so please don't be afraid to send requests or ask to be added to my nonexistent taglist! alsoo while this oneshot does include s/h, i am in no way glorifying or romanticizing it!!! but i do tend to write angsty and dark fics. again, this is a work of fiction and i don't intend for anyone to take this too seriously and let this influence them.

The loud crash of a glass echoed throughout the room as a vase went flying through the air and collided with the wall, just a few feet from where you were standing.

You didn't flinch. Didn't scream. Didn't cry. Didn't react. You were used to Mello's fits of rage by now, months into your relationship. If you could even call it that, at this point.

You knew Mello wouldn't dare lay a finger on you; if he did, he'd cut off his own hands and have live with the guilt forever, knowing he brought you harm. Which is why you didn't react.

However, he didn't seem to have a problem when it was only verbal.

"I don't fucking get you!" Mello spat harshly and continued to rant, "Why did you think that was okay?! Did you once consider how I felt?! I was worried sick that some asshole hurt you but you come back a day later and tell me you were at some boy's house!"

You only scoff, leaning against the wall in a relaxed manner, eyeing the remaining shards of the vase carefully. Just like Mello, you were incredibly stubborn.

"Answer me, Y/N!"

"Okay, Mihael," you state cooly, using Mello's legal name and causing him to listen more intently. "First of all, I don't know what you expected me to do when you invited your weird mafia 'friends' over while I was trying to sleep. Second, he's not 'some boy', his name is Y/F/N and he's one of a few people I can trust. I don't know what you think of me."

"You could've gotten a hotel room, that's what!"

"With what money, Mihael?! What fucking money? You forced me to quit my job and then practically lock me up in this hell hole that I can't even call 'home' anymore!"

Mello huffed. "Pfft, you should be grateful. I've kept you safe all this time, away from the dangers of the world. You're alive because of me. Me. You're mine."

"Yeah, some fucking life, right?"

"I provide for you, I protect you from the monsters out in the world, but you still decide to go and whore yourself out to your little 'friend'," Mello sneered, his sharp voice dripping with venom.

You stared at your boyfriend in disbelief. All words, all arguments and nasty retorts expiring on your lips.

"I.." You start, but laugh pitifully. "I don't even know what you're saying. I don't know if you even know what you're saying. Honestly, Mello, just when I thought you couldn't surprise me anymore, you start spewing complete and utter bullshit out of your mouth." Mello's silence only egged you on. "It's no wonder Near always came in first place." Aaand there it was. You snapped.

If looks could kill, you'd be dead. Mello's eyes widened in anger at the mention of Near, reminding him of his inferiority.

In a completely different situation where he wasn't on the receiving end, Mello would be smiling proudly, listening to your clever retorts and comebacks. You've always been as stubborn and hot headed as him, and he really liked that about you, fuck that "opposites attract" bullshit. (I ACC LOVE THAT TROPE LOL IM SORRY) However, considering you were both extremely toxic people, it was far from entertaining when it was you who got in a fight with the other.

You didn't stop, though. If he was gonna play that who-could-be-more-toxic game, you weren't gonna back down.

"I don't know if it was the explosion or you've really always been that stupid, but you need to get the fuck over yourself and stop throwing tantrums when you find out that I have a life, too, and I have friends. Friends who actually give a damn."

You stare down each other in silence, a heavy tension hanging in the air. Still, after a few moments, Mello didn't make any effort to speak or react, other than walking out of the room.

Days, weeks went by. Mello hasn't spoken a word to you. Hasn't even looked in your direction when you passed each other or walked into the same room. You didn't exist anymore, and it worried you.

Mello was never like this. Within a few days or even hours after an argument, you would easily kiss and make up. Had you gone too far this time?

Besides the fact that Mello was intentionally giving you the cold shoulder, he was also busy with work, and was out of the house from midnight to early afternoon. During that time, you would stay at home and carry out your every day mundane tasks and chores.

Even now, you didn't seek comfort in your family or friends. You were either busy keeping the house clean, sleeping, or entertaining yourself on social media. But it was all a sad attempt to keep your mind occupied on anything else other than Mello.

And one day like any other where Mello was out doing whatever the hell mafia dudes do, you snapped. You decided you were sick of the silent treatment.

If Mello was gonna play dirty and ignore you, you were gonna give him something to react to.

Mello came home some time after sunset. Kicking off his boots as he walked in the front door, he immediately knew something was off. It was quiet - too quiet. Despite the fact that you were practically taking some sort of forced break after the argument, you acted the same. You went about your day and didn't bother acting shy or timid around Mello. You still hummed earworm pop songs to yourself or put on a podcast to fill the tense air. But now there was nothing. Just Mello, the walls, and the silence.

Mello cautiously walked around the house and searched for any signs of you, fearing the worst.

As he frantically looked around, he stopped abruptly at the sight of blood smeared onto the hallway wall.

Blood.

His heartbeat began to thump loudly in his ears.

Then he noticed more blood. And more, smeared up on the wall, and eventually a trail picked up. He followed the bloody trail as it lead him through the hallway and stopped outside of your shared bedroom that he hasn't been inside for weeks.

Mello shakily inhaled and braced himself for whatever gruesome scene he would walk into.

He reached for the doorknob, twisting it and letting himself in.

Soon as he did, he ceased all motions, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to process what his eyes were showing him.

There, you sat on the bed, nothing on but your underwear and one of Mello's shirts. On one hand, you loosely held a pocket knife. On the other, you had your sleeve rolled up, your inner arm facing Mello's direction.

Your doe eyes looked up from the floor and met Mello's panicked ones. He was finally looking at you again. Despite the gorey setting and the stinging in your arm, you smiled. You were real to him again.

Multiple cuts oozed blood and trickled down your arm, onto your now dirtied clothes and the once satin white sheets below you.

As Mello got closer, silently freaking out, he could now see that these weren't just cuts - you carved out words. Sentences, onto your arm.

Among the many bloody 'I love you's' and pleads, one word stuck out to him.

It was his name.

He felt sick. Distraught. Guilty. Afraid.

"Y/N," he choked out shakily.

His gaze trailed up your arm, your body, and fixated onto your seemingly innocent face. Your face was rested and gentle, your eyes still staring up at him with adoration and desperation. If it weren't for the blood that painted your whole body and surroundings red, he would have found comfort in your presence.

"I did this.." You ran your fingers along your fresh wounds, not once wincing or drawing back in discomfort. "For you."

You continued, a sick sweetness in your voice. "Jus' wanted to show you how much I love you.. You've been leaving me so lonely, Mello." You frowned. "It was only a matter of time before I had to do something. And now you're finally here.. And you won't leave me again."

#mello x reader #mello x y/n #mihael keehl #death note fanfiction #death note #death note mello #death note near #death note angst #angst prompts #angst dialogue prompts #angst #sh tw #tw s/h #yandere mello #mello yandere #death note yandere #death note oneshot #death note imagines #rattyoakenbitch

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

A fluorescent green gaze pierced through him from the rearview mirror. As much as the eye contact sent chills down Dale's spine, he didn't want to look away. Some primal part of his brain was much more comfortable keeping his eyes firmly planted on the predator in the back seat of the police car.

"Why won't he leave?" Dale whispered to his partner, the woman grit her teeth.

"I don't know, but I'm not the idiot who decided to fucking arrest him." spat Whitney.

"I didn't think it would work!" Dale hissed. They were trying to be quiet, but he was certain the ghost boy could hear them clear as day, especially with the quiet of the late night streets. "I was just following protocol. We're not supposed to ignore criminal activity."

"The protocol," Whitney's knuckles tightened on the steering wheel as she circled the block for the third time. "Is to not fuck with the ghosts Dale. Especially that one."

She jerked her head roughly to the boy in the back seat, he was looking around the car and humming to himself, he didn't appear to be paying attention, but that didn't mean he wasn't listening.

"Look I just... we need to at least keep up appearances. We can't just let people think we aren't even trying."

"Yes! Yes we can!" Whitney snapped her mouth shut as her volume started to rise with frustration, she glanced nervously into the mirror and took a deep breath before continuing in a low tone. "We aren't paid to deal with this kind of bullshit, we radio it in and let a Fenton or a Guy in White deal with it."

"Okay I get it!" Dale ran a hand through his thinning hair. "I just... I feel so pathetic doing nothing when ghosts are just running around destroying public property-"

"Oh yeah no that's fine Dale that's a great reason to go and put handcuffs on the most powerful ghost in the fucking city." Whitney took the next turn a little too sharply, Dale felt himself lurch sideways, but the boy in the back hardly moved. It wasn't especially surprising given his usual disregard for the laws of physics.

As well as all the other laws that Officer Dale was supposed to be enforcing.

"I told you I didn't think he would actually come willingly." Dale whispered harshly, his voice containing just the barest hint of hysteria. "I just wanted to show him that we aren't total pushovers, I didn't expect it to go this far."

They circled the block once more as Dale checked the rearview mirror again. Phantom was playing with his handcuffs, jiggling the chain and twisting his hands around them. It was almost like he was trying wriggle his way out of them, Dale knew perfectly well that they were just ordinary handcuffs, and he could phase through them at any moment. Phantom had to know that too.

Whitney flicked her eyes between the mirror and the road.

"Asshole," the word was barely audible, Dale would have missed it had he not seen her lips move. "He's just doing this to fuck with us."

"Of course he is." Dale rubbed at his face tiredly. "He's probably got nothing better to do, maybe he'll leave if another ghost shows up?"

"And exactly how long do you expect us to go around in circles waiting for that to happen?" Whitney asked through gritted teeth. "This is getting fucking embarrassing."

"Maybe we should just take him in," Dale sighed in defeat. Whitney took another corner way too hard, jostling him roughly in his seat.

"I am NOT taking Phantom back for processing. They will NEVER let us live this down, and I am NOT becoming the joke of the precinct because YOU decided to be a god damn moron and arrest a fucking ghost."

Another sharp turn and the entrance to the city park flew by their windows again, Dale had lost count how many times they'd circled the block, but somehow he was certain that Phantom hadn't.

The little shit was enjoying this, why couldn't he just sneak into a movie theatre to get his kicks like a normal teenager?

Whitney growled and pulled the car into a complete stop, the wheels screeched and Dale let out a loud WHUFF as the inertia jerked him hard against his seatbelt.

His partner violently wrenched the door open and pulled herself out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her with far more force than was necessary.

Dale followed suit and looked over the roof of the car as Whitney pulled open the back passenger door and whistled sharply, pointing up and out into the sky.

"Go on, get. Ride's over, you've had your fun."

"Awww come oooon," Phantom whined, "I didn't even get to hear you use the siren!"

"Don't care, we're the police, not baby sitters. Go find some ghost cops to bother."

"The ghost cops aren't as fun," Phantom moaned, but he did as he was told and stepped out of the car. "You know, you guys shouldn't swear so much around minors, you're corrupting the youth!"

"I'll corrupt my foot up your ass if you don't get going." said Whitney, flatly. She put her hand out and Phantom effortlessly dropped the cuffs from his wrists and tossed them at her.

He pulled a face at her as she fumbled with the handcuffs, sticking out a very green tongue.

"I saw that young man!" Dale pointed at him from the other side of the car. "Don't let us catch you disrespecting an officer of the law again! Next time you won't get off with just a warning-"

"Dale! For the love of all that is holy shut your damn fool mouth!"

Phantom hopped backwards from the irate woman, his last few steps landing on empty air. He floated gently upwards with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Well this has been fun but I gotta head off, but thanks for the company! We should do it again some time, see you around!" He waved a casual salute and swung around, legs stretching out into a long swirling tail as he sped off into the sky.

Dale felt his knees shaking as he slipped back into the car. Whitney settled into her seat, hands steady as a rock as she belted herself up and started the car.

"That was terrifying." He gasped.

"And yet you still had to keep playing bad cop."

"I'm sorry it just slipped out! He's no different to any of the other punks we deal with around here. A wiseass with no respect for authority." Dale huffed and folded his arms, crossly.

"...He probably wasn't any different, before he died." Whitney said, quietly.

Dale didn't respond, letting the statement sit heavily between them as the car pulled away from the curb.

"I forget that sometimes, you know." said Dale. "This is the first time I've ever seen him up close and he... he really does just look like some kid. How do you think he... how do you think it happened?"

Whitney let out a deep breath as they completed their final lap around the block and headed in toward the city centre.

"I have no idea, and I'm pretty sure that's the kinda thing you can't ask." she paused for a moment, before continuing with a quiet pain in her voice. "He's so young."

"I wonder if his parents know," Dale mused sombrely, "That he's, you know, still around?"

"Who knows."

A car cut them off suddenly at an intersection.

"That was a red light." Dale announced.

The police car's lights flashed as the siren echoed through the empty streets, and Whitney slammed her foot down to catch up with the offending vehicle.

The conversation was over, but neither cop forgot about the incident, and neither could look at their city's hero and menace quite the same. Dale had gotten quite good at seeing ghosts as merely 'creatures', or 'monsters', things that were entirely Strange and Other. Being up close and personal with one had been a much needed reminder of what a ghost truly was.

And that ghost, the one messing around in the back of his car, was a boy. Just a boy. A boy who had a family, a boy who had a life, a boy who had died.

When Dale got home in the early hours of the morning, he hovered by his kids' bedroom, carefully easing the door open to look at their little sleeping faces. Just to make sure they were still there, right where he left them. Still breathing, still alive.

He knew there was a family out there somewhere, parents who had looked through their son's bedroom door and seen only cold, empty sheets.

Dale stepped very carefully over the spilt lego pieces on the floor, and gave his girls both a long, heartfelt kiss on their little heads, before going back to his own room to lay by his sleeping wife's side.

No, no he truly couldn't look at Phantom quite the same way, not anymore.

#danny phantom #lula's fanfics #danny phantom fanfiction

[sunmoonandsandsoundtracks]

it's a marshmallow world

i can't believe how fast i went from "i have no fucking ideas!" to polishing this off. it is probably the fastest thing i've written this whole year. yes, it's the shortest, but word count is no indication of time for someone who can be hyper focused and crank out 5k- not a huge exaggeration, if you take into account how many of those words i later cut- in one day, or have the attention span of a kid in a candy store, which means it takes me three hours to write 1k.

this is adorable, and funny. it's my second favorite so far, and a very close second at that. it was so much fun to write. it's in the canon-verse, but divergent since sasuke stayed long enough for there to be snow on the ground.

technically, there is no pairing, i'd say, but i'll still label it as a kakashi x reader.

disclaimer: the plot and takara only are mine to own, so if you feel inclined to sue, fuck off and leave me alone.

song

word count: 971- it's under 1k! i do have self control!

enjoy the baby team 7 love!

The first snow day of winter was always a day to be celebrated. You had a special pair of gloves reserved just for the occasion, and you were dying to put them to good use.

What better use than to help some bright-eyed students take revenge on their sensei? “He’s had this coming since that bell test,” Naruto huffed, helping you build up an arsenal of snowballs along with Sasuke and a dozen shadow clones. The three of you were at the training grounds where they had said bell test, hiding in the shrubs.

“He’s had this coming a lot longer than that,” you cackled.

“Is that why you offered to help us?” Sasuke questioned. “It’s personal?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s personal, but yeah. I’ve been itching to get him just once for longer than you’ve been alive, but I could never find the right accomplices. Lucky you. That, and I’ve seen the attempts you three have made, trying to see him under his mask. They were hilarious and sad at the same time.”

The two genin each shot you a dirty look, and you just smirked back at them. “You know it’s true, boys. None of you have gotten even close individually, and your teamwork is laughable when you’ve tried working together. You may be great in battle, but outside of that, you trip over each other like kittens born five minutes ago.”

“You’re not very nice, Takara-sensei,” Naruto said, pouting.

“I’m helping you, aren’t I?” You teased him. “Give it time. I’m sure I won’t be saying that for very much longer.”

You had a decent pile built when another shadow clone came running.

“They’re almost here!” He informed you, and the boys each took a few shadow clones to different piles you’d set up around the grounds, leaving you a few as well.

Not a moment too soon, Sakura and Kakashi appeared. You weren’t sure how she got him there, but she did her job.

“Five, four, three, two, one,” you counted down as they neared Naruto’s hiding place.

“Fire!” You heard the feisty boy call, jumping out and unleashing his ramen-fueled fury.

Sakura jumped away to another pile and helped Naruto shepherd their sensei toward Sasuke. Kakashi had put his book away to keep it dry, so he didn’t have any distractions. He was having no problem evading the two, and he had obviously been anticipating the third adversary. That was okay. You were the ace in the hole. The genin were just a decoy.

An evil smile dominated your face as you watched them play their parts. When they had him on the next agreed mark, you sent the clones out ahead of you to help corner him. As anticipated, Kakashi finessed his way out of his students’ trap.

“When will you three ever learn? You can’t beat me yet,” he condescended as they all panted, looking defeated.

“Damn,” Naruto said, and that was your cue. You summoned a dozen clones of your own, each grabbing two snowballs, then jumped out.

Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke all smirked, then jumped away as Kakashi turned in surprise to see you right behind him.

“What?! You?!” “Surprise!” You greeted, then delivered the final barrage. You didn’t think a single one had missed.

All was silent as your clones dispelled, and you stood there, the picture of satisfaction. He had snow dripping off every part of him as he gazed back at you in shock.

“You… When?” “That’s for us to know, and you to fear.”

“Yeah!” Naruto cheered as the three re-appeared. “Takara-sensei, you rule!”

“And I wonder why they won’t give me a team,” you laughed. “I’ll just come steal yours when it’s convenient.”

“Oh, please do!” Sakura sighed.

“It wouldn’t be awful for a mission or two,” Sasuke agreed.

Kakashi finally shook his head with a laugh. “Great. You assault me, then you turn my students against me. What’s next? My pack?”

Your grin stretched further. “When I decide to do that, you definitely won’t see it coming.”

Taking off your soaked gloves and tucking them in a pocket, you tried to warm your hands.

“Okay, well, I better go before I lose my fingers to frostbite.” You directed your gaze to the genin. “Great job, you guys. If you need anything else, keep me in mind, and go easy on the old man. See you around.”

Seven eyes followed you as you departed, happily crunching snow underfoot.

“You know, she’s kinda cool,” Naruto said with a light blush, partly from the cold air and exertion. The three of them were all pink in the face, but they had a valid excuse. Their sensei didn’t have as much of one with the thermal mask he wore, but he certainly had some color underneath it.

“She’s awesome!” Sakura praised, happy to find someone she felt would make a good role model for her.

“She’s okay,” Sasuke countered.

“I bet Kakashi-sensei doesn’t think so,” Naruto chuckled.

Sakura eyed the jonin, then smiled knowingly. She knew that look in someone’s eye. She had plenty of up close and personal experience with it in the academy.

“He thinks she’s more than okay!” She declared, piquing both her teammates’ interest- just barely in Sasuke’s case, because it could mean trouble if Kakashi was distracted by someone. He was flaky enough with keeping time as it was. Still, maybe you could help the copy-nin clean up his act.

“What?” Kakashi asked. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Naruto doubted. “You like her!”

“You three are too young to be thinking about that.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. “Whatever, sensei.”

He gave them the next time they were meant to meet, then disappeared. They glanced at each other, then Sakura spoke again.

“Alright, so here’s the plan to set them up…”

#naruto canon-verse #kakashi x reader #early team 7 love

[xiu21chen99]

hxh headcanon/imagine.

again... still about hisoillu but about their engagement instead of illu's influenced fashion choice.

also this is more of... idk it gave reason why they chose to marry instead of uh other ways i guess??

i've seen so many fanarts where illu would break the news to the zoldycks or how killu would react to having hisoka as his brother in law- like srsly it's meme worthy at this point- and lotsa ones that showed how hisoka proposed as a joke or smtg but... I've been overthinking abt it these past few days sO i present to you how i think "the big question aka the proposal" happened... (manga spoilers??)

it's after hisoka resurrected himself obviously, and def after he killed kortopi and shalnark (so he knew there was gonna be empty slots in the spiders' lineup)

i imagine illu went back to the zoldyck estate after the whole fiasco and only heard of hisoka's "death" from rumors while he was on a mission

and then when he was idk maybe contemplating on whether or not he should visit the body(?) to pay respects or something, he gets a text message from the devil himself

their text went like this probably:

hisoka: hey~ where are you right now?♠️ (and no u can't tell me hisoka doesn't text w card suits u just can't-)

illumi: who are you and how did you get the phone you are currently using?

hisoka: ooh~ illu~ i feel betrayed, did you delete my number?♣️

illumi: hisoka is dead

hisoka: *image attached*

illumi: oh

illumi: hello hisoka, how are you still alive?

hisoka: you sound disappointed~♦️

illumi: i kind of am...

hisoka: rude, just tell me where you are♥️

...and that's how they met up?? ngl i think illu has a know-it-all syndrome where he just has to,,, k n o w everything

he's curious so he agrees to the meetup ofc

he's also surprised when he sees hisoka is in good shape when they meet (idk at a bar in an unknown city?)

they drink whiskey on the rocks because... you know...

hisoka explains how he survived and his next plan of action (which is terminate the spiders)

illumi makes a mental note of nen after death bc he's heard and seen it all before but... not to this extent,

this is gonna be,,, bland but i think this is the logic behind why hisoka chose to get married/engaged instead of just paying up front (reference to the ten dons' commission to get chrollo killed and chrollo's commission to get the ten dons killed)--

anyways here's how their conversation goes:

i: "why did you want to talk in person?"

h: "oh y'know, for old times sake."

i: "...right"

hisoka laughs, "okay so maybe i want to ask you for a favor..?"

confused, illumi asks, "why could you not have just texted if you wanted me to kill someone for you?"

h: "no, no- wait, actually, you're not too far off."

i: ~mOrE cOnfUsiOn~ "huh?"

h: "how do contracts for assassination work in your... family business?"

i: "half the promised pay before, the remaining half afterwards. should the target be eliminated by a third party, the assigned zoldyck still gets the pay and should the employer die, then the contract is terminated and the zoldyck will report back immediately."

h: "and has anyone made a contract to have themselves terminated?"

i: "i beg your pardon?"

h: "what complications will arise should your employer's target be... themselves?"

i: "i believe... i have never encountered such circumstance before. the people who hire us are those who have enough money and resource to have their enemies killed quickly. no one's tried to test the zoldyck assassination prowess."

h: "so... how will that work?"

i: "are you implying this is the reason why you have contacted me today?"

h: "yes~ ♥️" (how he said a heart emoji out loud is up to you, reader)

i: "it will be a pointless paradox. logically, the zoldyck will only get the employment bill. and i, myself, do not find pleasure in going for the kill like you lest i get my reward, so you will not get a contract out of me, hisoka."

h: "is there no leeway?"

i: "a zoldyck stands up to their word. so no."

h: "even for a friend?~ ♦️"

i: "we are not friends, hisoka-"

hisoka raises his glass of whiskey along with his eyebrow.

i: "oh..."

h: "didn't you tell dear killua that a zoldyck didn't need friends?"

i: "you... are an associate, someone reliable in the killing world. it's different."

h: "hypocrite"

i: "i ask you for favors and you make me return them. it is not like we spend our time together leisurely like killu with that island boy..."

hisoka clinks their matching glasses of whiskey even though his is already empty, a shit-eating grin on his lips.

i: "you suggested we meet here."

h: "this isn't the first time we went out to drink, right illu?"

i: "regardless!! i will not kill you just for half the money. i do not like wasting efforts on fruitless missions."

h: "as i said, is there no exception, to make sure you get my money if you were to succeed in killing me?"

i: "are you doubting my skill, hisoka?"

h: "that's not the point right now~ ♠️"

i: "wait, why do you want me to get all of your money?"

h: "haven't we just gotten over this subject? because you're my friend, of course."

i: "i... we are not friends, hisoka."

hisoka claps, "that's it! illumi!! ♣️"

i: "eh?"

h: "marry me! that way in our prenup I'll make sure you get all of my money, and even without a prenup you'll still get it since you'll be my only relative! that solves it!"

i: "hisoka, are you sure death did not took a toll on your brain? you did say you used Bungee Gum only on your heart and lungs..."

h: "i'm being serious, illumi!! and doesn't this solve your earlier conflict? we don't have to be friends, we'll be husbands!"

i: "do not use that tactic with me, you manipulative bastard. stop joking."

h: "this is purely beneficial for you, honestly i don't get why you just won't accept it."

i: "then humor me this first, why now?"

h: "dear illu, i've been to literal hell and back. i think it's time to leave my mark in case i fail to escape death again."

i: "was it that bad?"

h: "you'll love it there, illu~ ♥️"

h: "on a more serious note, though, i do plan to marry you. out of everyone i've encountered, you're the most eligible candidate. you're powerful, fully capable and extremely pretty to boot! you're the ideal husband!"

(blushing obviously, illumi downs the remaining whiskey in his glass) i: "death has changed you, hisoka."

h: "so?"

i: "fine."

h: "excellent!"

and in one fell swoop, illumi has a pin against the curve of hisoka's jugular, wrist held tightly by hisoka- a card matching against his own neck.

"not yet, dear husband." hisoka whispered into his ear, "we have to manage the papers first. and i've a request before you do."

they let each other go at the same time, not even breathing an unnecessary breath in the other's personal space (well, they're nearly pressed thigh to thigh anyways, what's the point of personal space anymore-)

"a condition rather than a request, really."

"what?" hisoka orders them refills, and downs his when it arrives.

"join the ryodan first."

glass already pressed on thin lips, illumi's confused hum resonates softly into the concave utensil. "why?"

"so things can get more interesting. i assume you know of the dark continent expedition that's soon to take place?"

"father has advised i take part on it, since kalluto told me the ryodan plans to rob some cliches who'll join the expedition- to look after him. you want me to join them?"

"yes, and i plan to board as well, don't fret."

illumi's eyes turn to slits, "how should i know you would be there? i can't take your word when you might just disappear when we've all boarded."

hisoka grins, wide then wider, "you should know by now illu, i plan to avenge my wounded pride. that damned chrollo didn't even fight me properly."

tilting his head, illumi stared at the man beside him, "is that not contradictory? i thought you did not mind your opponent using whatever means necessary to win?"

"magicians use tricks and misdirection to awe the audience," hisoka says almost thoughtlessly, "chrollo's a narcissistic hypnotist who used the audience as a damned shield because he knew he couldn't handle me face-to-face."

he groans, tinged in regret. "i shouldn't have picked heaven's arena, if i'd chosen a more discreet location then maybe the damage won't be this bad."

"damage?" illumi rests his chin on his palm, facing his husband.

hisoka swipes a hand over his face, and the glamour comes off. the picture he sent illumi now present in front of him. he was missing a nose, his left hand didn't have any finger left and dried blood chipped on his white skin. "oh."

with another swipe, everything's made correct again. hisoka was grinning again. he downs the remaining alcohol and leaves jenny bills under the emptied glass.

"come, lovely husband. we're to elope and legalize our union!"

illumi follows suit after downing his own glass, "i think there might be another loop hole, if you were to join the family. zoldycks do not kill family."

"so if i were to wed you, here and now, you'd think me more of a family than alluka?"

"alluka is not family."

"are those your words, illumi? or silva's?"

"i..."

"wow, you're really just as fucked up as i am."

"where do you plan to take me? i've just said i cannot kill family."

hisoka chuckles, "then you're the one to take my name, of course."

"preposterous!"

"who the hell still uses that word?"

"i am and will always be a zoldyck-"

"exactly. it's just legal papers, if you kill me then you'll just be a widow and even get your name back! see how everything'll work out in the end?"

"hisoka-"

"are you doubting your skill of assassination, my dearest husband?"

"... i better get the most expensive ring in this damned city."

"that's the spirit! now let's go get married!"

"wait, hisoka. what is your last name?"

later that night, when they leave a chapel, something gold glimmers on hisoka's bungee gum/texture surprise ring finger. a matching one around illumi's finger.

unlike hisoka, though, illumi had an extra red glimmer right under that gold, in the dead center of a silver band of intricately designed pattern. hisoka had foregone the traditional diamond in favor of a 16 carat ruby engagement ring, such a curious choice but illumi accepted it all the same...

(much later on, hisoka took both rings as collateral and reminded illumi that he would get them back even if he died bc it was in their damn prenup- and bc it was technically bought under illumis name and that's how hisoka assured illu that he'd be on that black whale,,, bc he had the rings and planned to give them back to him there)

"I thought a red gemstone was better suited for the rather bloody and murderous ending that our relationship will inevitably come to, wouldn't you agree?"

-Hisoka Morow whenever someone mentions his preference of proposal ring...

"I disagree with most of his ideals, our relationship has always had a fragile foundation, and I knew from the start that we'd eventually end up killing each other."

-Illumi Morow, nee Zoldyck when asked about his thoughts on his husband...

#prenup #engagement ring #hunter x hunter #hxh #headcanon #imagine #hunter x hunter 2011 #hisoillu #hisoka #hisoka morrow #hisoka morow #illumi #illumi zoldyck #hisoka x illumi #chat?? #conversation #marriage proposal #incorrect texts #hisoka wanted illumi to kill him to make things more interesting #how i think the conversation went #hisoka and illumis engagement #married hisoillu #my own plot twist #illumi just wants the money #or so he says #hisoka is actually rich tho #how do u think he keeps having a full deck of cards #their engagement ring is a ruby #change my mind #you can't

[one-boring-person]

Requested by: @80s4life

I hope you like this!😊💛

What I Did To You.

Snake Plissken (Escape From New York/LA) x reader

Warnings: violence, injury, swearing, gun use

Masterlist

I have my gun levelled at his head before I've even closed the door properly, my face drawn into a fierce scowl, eyes blazing with anger. Every muscle in my body goes tense, my hand unwavering as I hold the weapon up, my leg throbbing in memory pain. Across from me, the intruder remains stood silently, his eye fixed on mine, his own hand still resting at his hip, ready to draw his pistol at any point.

"Hello to you, too." He greets me in the quiet way he always used to, his lips barely moving.

Frown deepening, I push the door behind me closed without looking at it, keeping my gun aimed at his head as I look him over. Not for the first time, he's covered in a light layer of grime, his brown leather jacket darkened in places by the dirt and lightened in others by the fraying, his boots caked in dust from the wasteland outside. His golden mane of hair is slightly dulled from exposure to the unforgiving sun outside and falls into his eyepatch, flicked out of the way every so often by a jerk of the head. A shadow of a stubble covers his chin, as it always has, disguising a few new scars I've not seen before...as well as one I know very well. Other than that, Snake Plissken has not changed at all.

My eyes narrow, grip on the gun tightening.

"Leave." Is all I say, shifting my weight onto my other foot.

"You used to have such nice manners." Snake's lip curls, the soldier taking a step towards me.

Instantly, I flick my thumb over the flintlock.

"Leave." I repeat, pulling the hammer down as the gun makes a dull clicking sound.

"No." He moves closer, standing so the gun is inches from his chest.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here." I growl, oh so tempted to pull the trigger, "I don't know why you don't keep your distance."

A cruel smirk creeps onto his lips, eye narrowing as his head tilts to the side.

"Trust me, I didn't want to come here, either." He reassures me, "But I have no choice."

"I'm giving you a choice. Leave, or I'll introduce some lead into your diet." I retort, ignoring the burn in my arm from holding it outstretched. At this point, it's the only thing keeping us separated.

"I'll pass on both." Snake snorts, shooting a dismissive glance at the handgun pointed at his throat - now that he's standing closer, my aim only really comes up to his chest and neck, "Put the gun away."

I nearly laugh at him then, another surge of anger going through me.

"You're in no position to order me around. Not anymore." I practically snarl at him, keeping the gun where it is.

"Suit yourself. I came to ask for your help, the least you could do is be civil." He replies coldly, glaring at me now.

Again, the urge to laugh in his face goes through me.

"You came here to ask for my help?" I repeat, cocking my head in disbelief at the sheer balls of the man, "You really need to leave before I pull this trigger."

"(Y/n), we both know if you wanted me dead, I'd be bleeding out on the floor already." He points out, unimpressed.

"Maybe I'm waiting for an apology first."

This seems to catch him off guard.

"An apology?" He repeats, frowning in confusion, "For what?"

It takes all I have not to lunge at him and throttle the handsome bastard's neck in my hands, my leg flaring up in pain at the reminder.

"You know damn well what for." I growl at him, shifting off of my leg again, rubbing at it unconsciously.

Snake's eyes follow my movement, realisation dawning on him.

"I already apologised for that." He says quietly, clearly remembering back to the time I'm referring to.

It still plagues me, that one last operation we'd had to do together. Three years ago, back when we were still working together on jobs, good at what we did, the perfect partnership...except for Snake's tendency to protect his ego. It had been horrible that night, rain pelting the ground as we moved on the abandoned construction site, mud slicking our boots and trousers, foggy air making it impossible to see anywhere. I had told Snake we shouldn't go that day,  that it would be better to wait until another, clearer night, but he insisted on the raid. He'd told me that he'd "been in worse" and that this was nothing, so we took our guns, knives and other equipment, and headed out into the wastelands to deal with the threat.

At first, everything had been fine: we'd managed to get in with no problem, creeping around the perimeter, taking out guards as we went, bodies sodden and filthy now, freezing under our light jackets. It was only as we moved to go further into the site that disaster had struck. Suddenly, gunfire was tearing into the ground inches away from us, driving us back behind an old container box, flashes of light appearing in the milky fog around us, our vision obscured by the sheeting rain, the mud making it hard to retreat. We later found out we'd been ratted out to the terrorists occupying the site, and they'd set up a trap for us, hounding us from the place with rifles spewing bullets at us the entire way. We had been close to escaping.

Then I slipped on a landmine.

All of a sudden, I was flying forwards through the air, agony erupting in my left leg as the flash of light and flames exploded behind me, my body crashing to the floor seconds later. Winded and incapable of moving thanks to the pain lancing through me from my leg, I had screamed out to Snake, hoping for him to return to me, the smell of burning flesh soon flooding my nostrils as my foot caught in the blaze. Howling in agony, I had tried to pull myself out, my fingers scrabbling at the slick mud in desperation, only for the pain to become too overbearing. I had looked for Snake, only to see the back of his head disappearing towards our getaway vehicle, paying no mind to me. It was then that I blacked out, my heart drowning in betrayal and hurt.

For a week or so, I'd been held captive by the terrorists, tortured sometimes, my wounds left to fester, bones shattered and out of place, burns turning ugly over the time. Eventually, another team had been sent in to rescue me, the group getting me out before it got too far. Taken to a hospital, it took me weeks to recover, every muscle and bone in my left leg needing to be reformed almost completely, surgeries being done near-daily to realign them all, the skin basically unsalvageable. I'd had four different skin grafts from various parts of my body, only to leave the limb looking twisted and mangled, basically useless to me until I was encouraged to learn how to use it again. That entailed another half a year of time spent working on getting it to full use again, and even now I can't go nearly as far as I used to. Every so often, the leg throbs, memory pain still hounding me since the day I got the wounds themselves, but I suppose I got off lucky: the surgeons hadn't expected me to make it through.

All of that because of Snake's ego.

His apology? A note sent to me whilst I was unconscious in the hospital.

"You and I have a very idea of what an apology is. Especially for something that kept me bedridden for months." I bite out, heart aching now at the memory, "Especially for someone who left me to die."

Snake purses his lips, swallowing tightly.

"I thought you did die." He says, much quieter now, eye roaming my body guiltily.

"You heard my screams. There's no way you didn't." I reply harshly, reminded again of the raw-throated shrieks for help.

He winces, looking down at his feet now, his fists clenched at his sides.

"I didn't think you'd make it. If I went back, I wouldn't have gotten out." He murmurs, sounding somewhat saddened by what he's saying.

"You wanna know how long it took those fuckers to get to me? Fifteen minutes. Fifteen! There was more than enough time!" I spit at him, face twisted in anger.

Once again, he winces at my words, only now realising the extent of what he did.

"And even when you knew I was alive, when I was in hospital, you couldn't even be asked to come and apologise in person. You sent a damn note." I shake my head, looking at him in disgust, "You're a coward. A spineless coward. Why didn't you at least show your face? Why? Why did you leave me to face the pain on my own?"

"Because I couldn't face it! I couldn't face seeing you there, lying in a hospital bed, all doped up, cut-up and bruised because of me! I couldn't face seeing you nearly crippled because of my stupid fucking pride!" Snake finally snaps, voice strained as his eye returns to my face, pain clouding the blue depth, "I thought I got you killed, (Y/n)! I could barely live with myself because of it!"

"Then why wait until now to find me? Why not come sooner?" I question, voice tense.

"I didn't think I'd be able to face you so angry and upset. I cared - care - so much about you, (Y/n), you have no idea how hard this is for me. I've lived with this guilt for so long." He fumbles for words, unable to voice his feelings as he always has been.

"How hard this is for you? Do you have any- argh!" I cut off in pain. As I was speaking, I'd stepped forwards, my leg sending a shock of agony through me as I'd done so, making me stumble forwards.

Snake moves closer, catching me before I can connect with the floor, his arms secure around me as my hands come to rest on his muscular chest. Blushing at the proximity, I try to ignore the butterflies in my stomach, pushing off of him to sit on a nearby chair, dropping the gun to the floor. Stretching out the affected leg, I sigh in frustration, the anger residing into the same loneliness I've always felt since I got the wounds that have left me like this.

Snake watches me silently, expression pained as he finally speaks.

"Can I...can I see? Please, I want to know what I did to you."

Surprised, I give him a sceptical look, before I hesitantly start to pull my trousers down over my legs. His eye widens at the sight of the limb, lips parting slightly.

Gnarled scar tissue crawls up my leg, discoloured and tight, appearing somewhat ghostly in the light of the room. Snake stares at it in horror, grief swiftly clouding his eye now as he falls to his knees in front of me, hands lifting to hover over it. He flicks his eye up to me, asking for permission, to which I nod, gasping as he removes his gloves and gently places his hands on the sensitive skin, a shiver going up my spine. Ever so carefully, Snake runs his palms over the scars, feeling them over with hesitant fingers, his expression becoming more and more open.

After a while, he looks up, pained eye meeting mine.

"God, (Y/n), I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry..." He grasps my hips, pushing his head into my abdomen as he wraps me into an awkward embrace, murmuring apologies over and over. Shocked, I hesitantly place my hands on his head, threading my fingers through his soft hair. An old tenderness springs into life within me, reminding me of why I used to stay with him, and what his riendship used to mean to me. Over the years, I had tried to forget it, but it's impossible - as he holds me close now, I realise I've missed him more than I'd ever let myself admit.

Snake pulls away after a few more minutes, caressing my hip as he looks up at me, thoughtful now.

"What job was it you needed help with?" I ask him quietly, twisting a strand of his hair between my fingers, "I'll work with you, if you drop the ego act."

He looks surprised and glad, a smallsile pulling at his lips.

"Of course." He promises, looking away again bashfully, "I only kept it up to impress you."

I blink in surprise.

"To impress me?" I repeat dumbly.

"Yeah, I, err, I've always felt the need to. Wanted to impress you so you'd consider going out with me." He admits, blushing furiously.

I blink again, head tilting in curiosity.

"Wait, what?"

"I always wanted to go out with you. Always." He chuckles, swallowing, "I've always loved you."

"You...you love me?!"

"Yeah, I do." Snake nods, biting his lip.

"Wow..." My voice trails off in surprise, unable to compute what he's saying, "I wish you'd told me sooner."

He frowns.

"What do you mean?"

I smile sheepishly at him.

"I've always had a thing for you, too. I just never thought you even liked me full stop."

"Really?!" He looks astonished.

"Yeah, really."

He's quiet for a moment, until a cunning smirk crosses his lips.

"In that case..." Snake leans up and connects our lips, kissing me softly but passionately.

A quiet moan escapes me, my lips moving instinctively against his, kissing him back in relief. His lips are chapped, but I can't find it in me to care as I pull his head closer to me, smiling as he pulls my body into him, his chest pressed firmly against my abdomen. In his arms, I can feel the pain of the last few years starting to slip away, still hooked deeply into me but starting to lessen, my eyes falling closed with the movement of his lips.

He finally pulls away, a content smile on his face, eye taking my expression in.

"So what's this job?" I breathe out, stroking his hair.

He grins lazily.

"Ever thought about going to LA?"

#escape from la #escape from new york #snake plissken #snake plissken x reader #snake plissken imagine #kurt russell #break writes

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Ninety-One [PT. 2]

Words: 2.5K

Warning(s): explicit language, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of domestic abuse

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"Your little one is here as of right now." Dr. Telille says, pointing to a very little area to the far side of my womb and I smile before she switches the focus slightly and then looks at the screen with a slightly odd look before flipping through my chart. "At your previous Obstetrician, did they mention any abnormalities?" She asks me. 

"No." I shake my head. 

"You said in your history you've had recurrent miscarriages?" She asks next. 

"Yes." 

"Okay, Mrs. Sixx, don't be alarmed by this because there is a solution but this," she turns the screen to me again, pointing at a shadow in the picture that looks like it's creating bunny ears or something. "Is a layer of tissue that's not supposed to be there. It halts fetal growth, and ultimately causes miscarriages, often times even before a fetus is interacting with the tissue itself, physically." She informs me and I feel like my chest is throbbing from how hard my heart is beating. "The good news is that we can fix this, I've had to do a few surgeries like this before--we can go in and cut that tissue out without disturbing your baby, but we will need to have it done within the next week--two weeks at the most." She explains and I raise my brows. 

"What's my chance of carrying out my pregnancy to term without the surgery?" I ask, trying to stay calm. 

"With a successful surgery, there is a 80% chance of you carrying it to term, and a higher chance at not facing as many pregnancy difficulties in the future like you've had previously. Without the surgery, with your history, it's very, very probable that you won't get to four months without miscarrying--if that far." She adds. 

"What's the risk of this surgery causing complications?" I ask next. 

"30%." She replies and I breathe out. "You don't have to make a decision today, you can go home and think about it and talk about it with the father but we need to get it scheduled in the next few days." 

"Um, o-okay…" I rub my lips together. 

"And if you are interested in the surgery, we can go ahead and send it in and see if insurance will cover it." She assures me. 

"I don't have maternity insurance right now." I tell her and she looks at me uneasily. 

"No worries, we can figure the costs out after you decide if you want it or not." She tells me, calmly, and I just nod. 

I numbed myself. I would've been freaking out, having a meltdown, begging God to spare my damn baby for once...but as soon as she started in on what was wrong with me, the negative outcomes...I flicked the switch in my brain and just let myself feel absolutely nothing as best as I could. My nervousness was relief compared to blatant breakdown mode that I knew would hit inevitably.

And how the hell did I tell Duff and Nikki that I was going to need surgery that could potentially terminate my pregnancy--or suffer what I'd suffered before and still lose a baby? Oh, right. I didn't. At least, not as soon as I probably should have.

When I get to my new little house I'm renting with my savings, Duff's sitting on the little porch, drinking a beer. 

"How'd it go?" He asks me, standing up as I unlock the door. 

He couldn't go with me this time because he had to go look at a couple houses with Mandy, which I understand because they had already canceled once with a real-estate agent and would get charged extra if they missed another appointment. 

"Good." I lie, clearing my throat. 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." 

Whisky's barking at us until he realizes it's me, and then he won't get out from under my feet until I pat him on the head. 

"I need to finish unpacking." I say before Duff can ask anymore questions. 

"Well, it's your lucky day because I know how to unpack." He states, grinning. 

I go change into pajamas and when I get back, he's pulling pictures from one of the boxes, neatly placing them on the coffee table in the living room and I pick them up and start figuring out where to put them. 

"So, my family really wants me to bring you up." He says, optimistically. "I was thinking leave Sunday and come back next Saturday."

"...Duff, I can't just up and leave right now. I have to finish unpacking, and I'm gonna be meeting with Nikki once a week and then him and the guys once a week so that's two different…" I trail off as he cuts open another one of my packed boxes with his pocket knife, a look of disappointment on his face. "...It's not that I don't want to, you know. I just have a lot going on right now." 

"We'd just be gone for a week." He says, looking at me. "It's the only time off I have for a while since we're doing a few shows in New York and Europe." He adds. "And I really want my family to know you, kinda, before you have the baby." 

"I don't know." I hesitantly tell him and he licks his lips. "I don't know, Duff, okay? I just...ughhh." I groan, raking my hands through my hair. 

"If you don't want to meet my family then don't worry about it, Vivian." He says it a little passive aggressively and I raise my brows. 

"'Vivian'? Since when the hell am I 'Vivian'?" I ask, mimicking his tone. 

"That's your name isn't it?" He asks next and I cross my arms.

"You usually call me 'Viv', or...something…"

"Well, I'm not calling you, 'babe,' or, 'baby,' since we aren't dating anymore so…"

"You're being a dick." 

"I'm not being a dick. I'm just family oriented and I want my family to know you and our kid and you're making up excuses to not go and meet them."

"Excuse me for not wanting to be judged." I snap back. 

"They're not fucking judgemental." 

"Oh, so you're cussing at me now, too, huh?" 

"Quit trying to start an argument." He tells me. 

"I'm not starting an argument, I'm making a valid point." 

"You're making an assumption." He corrects me. "My family isn't judgemental. They're really not. I don't even think they're worried with the fact that you were married when we got together because they haven't said a word about it. They just want to meet you." 

"Matt didn't seem so cool about it." I mumble. 

"Matt was trying to keep both of us out of trouble." He explains. "He wasn't judging you. He just doesn't like drama and if we would've gotten caught he knew it'd just be a bunch of bullshit we'd have to get thrown at us." 

I just stare at him. 

"And I'm sorry for cussing at you, but I'm trying to be positive about all of this and I really don't want you to start bringing in your negativity." He exhales. 

"My negativity?" I raise my brows, laughing humorlessly. 

"Please, just come to Seattle with me next Sunday. I promise it'll be fun and my family's fun, they don't mean any harm by wanting you to come up and visit--they're already talking about planning a trip when it's born to be here for you and me both for a few days." He adds. 

I think about it, seeing his eyes glint a little as he slowly smiles at me like a hopeful puppy. 

"Okay." I relent and he puts his hands above his head, folding them together, letting out a loud, "Hallelujah!" and I roll my eyes, trying to hold back a chuckle. 

The truth is, I don't want to leave Nikki stewing that long after revealing to him my miscarriages. He never came back when he left the therapy session yesterday, and I was supposed to go back today but decided I needed another day to just think about everything, but because of Amber's schedule, we won't be able to get back in the same room together--aside from me just visiting him--until next Wednesday...but with Duff wanting to leave Sunday and come back that Saturday, I won't be able to meet then, either. A part of me isn't even sorry that I won't make it since the morale of Nikki's story is that he married a maestro of manipulation that can play victim like no other but is really an evil bitch who loves to make people suffer. 

I gathered that after reading: 

"I married a fucking demon."

"Vivian climbed from hell just to neuter me." 

"My wife's a fucking lunatic." 

"I sometimes think Vivian's waiting for me to die so she can get the money." 

"I hate her." 

"I don't know what's killing me faster: my looney wife, or smack. Doesn't matter--they're both my drug of choice." 

"If she didn't know how to fuck I would've already left her." 

"She flushed every bit of what Jason dropped off last night. Cost me a couple grand. I'm so pissed, if I knew she wouldn't beat the shit out of me and go batshit-ballistic, I'd lay her out on the fucking floor. I'm sure it'd be like foreplay in her sick mind, anyway." 

"I swear she cums every time she belittles me." 

And, my personal favorite: 

"Just woke up from a fucking nightmare. I was fucking around with Vivian and Vanity and once they got their satisfaction they started eating me alive while talking about their love for God. Even with them gnawing on me alive with their shark-like teeth and their completely black eyes, stripping flesh from my bone and going at it like a fucking pork chop, I was turned on. But as soon as they started about God, how good and wonderful he was, that's when I started panicking a little that I OD'd without realizing it and was in hell or some fucking incarnation of it. I see now that's how they both got me, being hot and knowing exactly what to do to get me going. And now they're both sucking the life out of me, eating me alive, while praying to their God and acting like they're blameless in my destruction. CHICKS = TROUBLE." 

At least we both agree that we married demons.

It was strange for me to realize how he saw me--well, how Sikki saw me. Once I was able to differentiate between the two of them, it hurt less reading what he'd write about me. It was just confusing. 

One page would be an entire rant (with unflattering, random song lyrics to match) about something I did that pissed him off--sometimes things I wouldn't even realize I did to make him upset and then the next page would be decently positive things about me that he'd profess after waking up sort of sober…

I knew he felt guilty about how he treated me, most of the entries from the end of '83 to '87 had "I'm an asshole" or "I really fucked up" or some version of it in them but the deeper into '87 he got, the less and less apologetic he got. Both in real time and his dairies. 

Despite the black and white of his diaries, one thing still lingered in the grey area…

I stare at the little TV on my dresser, bowl of captain crunch in hand as I stuff my face while flipping channels, Whisky gnawing on his chew toy as a flickering, fuzzy and static blaring familiar face flashes across the screen as I turn to the next channel. My heart stops for a moment, my finger immediately going back, the screen and audio clearing as I see her. 

Clear eyed and competent. A far removal from what I last saw of her with her gnashing teeth and tortured eyes, spewing at Nikki and I both before he and her got into a fight that left her dragged down the stairs of our old house...guilt tugs at me, remembering the look on her face, the pain, the hurt...perhaps she felt as bad as I did about the situation. 

He was the one telling her he was going to leave me and marry her, after all. My feury swallowed him before it ever thought about swallowing her. 

"...I'm currently looking at other scripts for other films." She replies very calm and composed to whatever question her interviewer was asking...I'm assuming this is part of her press run for her new movie coming out. 

"If you could write a ticket for yourself, Vanity, what would it be?" The woman asks next and she furrows her brows, slightly. 

"Write a ticket? To go somewhere?" 

"No, write a ticket for the rest of your life, and your career. Just everything about your life." She explains. 

"Ohhh," She thinks a moment before shaking her head slightly. "I wouldn't want to do that, actually, because, um, everytime I turn around something new's happening. I'm a very spontaneous person. I just like to get up and go, and I've been doing that since I was fifteen...so, um, I couldn't say I'd like to write that ticket." She chuckles a little, but not the crack-cackle I was used to seeing in her past interviews. 

She's actually sober here. 

"I just wanna go wherever life takes me." She continues. 

"What you're saying then, is, you couldn't write a ticket because what you would write wouldn't be as good as what could happen?" 

"No, I don't--"

"--No?"

"No, I don't think that, I'm not saying that at all. I feel that I have certain goals in my life. Very big, big, dreams that I set for myself. But I wouldn't wanna, um, question God's way about where he's going with me." She states. "That's just...not me." 

"If you could go back and change anything--"

"--Nothing." Vanity says, biting her lip nervously, shaking her head. 

"Any of the decisions?"

"Nothing." 

"Wouldn't change a thing?" 

"Nothing." She buckles down on it and I feel my eyes gloss over. "Wouldn't change a thing…" she trails off, thinking for a second. "...Can't say that I would." She adds, softly. "Because each time that I've done something, whether it be a mistake in my life, it's always...what you might call a mistake in my life is never a mistake to me. It was a definite meant to be and it was a definite learning process. So all the pain and all the glory...I wouldn't change a thing."

She's so unapologetically sincere. 

I cut the TV off as they start closing out the interview, and toss the remote across the room, losing my appetite and putting my bowl on my nightstand before I allow myself to replay what she just said. 

And I cry, not because she was in a relationship with him, not because she tried to steal him from me...I cry because I regret everything. I regret marrying Nikki. I regret meeting Duff. I regret getting pegnant. 

I'm not angry at her.

I envy her.

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #gateway drug

[msmarvelwrites]

The Winter Soldier - Part 15

Info: A Devastating car crash causes you to lose your memory and start over. The only thing left in the wreckage was the horrific nightmares which plagued your mind. If you knew what today would entail you would have just stayed in bed. But you didn’t and because of that, everything you knew was about to change.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: swearing, gun violence. 

W/c: 2.9k

A/n: I’m double posting for @kalesrebellion​ because she called me out. So here you go babe. Also, I did an embarassing amount of research trying to come up with the basics for the serum. But I concluded that this is fiction and it doesnt really matter. But if you’re ur a science major and this doesnt make sense please dont come for me lol

There are moments in your life that define you. Moments you look back on after everything and wonder, if you had listened to your gut, maybe it would be different. This was one of those moments. Bucky’s world shattered around him as Natasha’s words rang through his comm. 

“We’ve been compromised, Buck. I’ve been hit. They got Y/n.” Her voice, broken and solemn. 

No. 

Dammit, NO.

This isn't how this was supposed to happen. This was an easy job. Only a few Hydra agents resided in this compound. The whole thing felt like a dream. One he was completely and utterly unprepared to handle. How could he let this happen. He should have been there. 

“Dammit. What's your location? I'm coming to you.” He shouted. His blood began to boil and he heard your heavy breathing on the other side. You were running. “Y/n, please come in. Please, doll. Where are you?” Bucky hated how broken he sounded. He knew the rest of the team could hear his begging, but he didnt care. He couldn't. He just needed to get to you. 

“You always were a fighter. Right till the bitter end.” A man’s muffled voice came through his comm. He didn't recognize it as anyone he knew, but there was something familiar about it. A distant memory he couldn't quite piece together. Before he could speak, your voice broke though, a small whisper shattering his heart and sending him into a blind rage. 

“Bucky” You breathed, choking on a cough. 

“Y/n. I’m coming to you, doll. Don't worry, I've got you. I’m going to get you out of this. Don't worry, I’m coming.” He pleaded, but was only met with static, and then finally silence. The rest of the team kept quiet, waiting for any kind of sign of life from you. When none came, Nat spoke up. 

“Guys, we gotta get out of here. They've set off a security alert, this place is going to blow in three minutes.” Her voice was now back to its usual tone, but Bucky knew better. She was scared, he could hear it.  “ There’s no sign of her out here. She’s just… gone.” He could hear that she was running now.

“Bucky, we gotta go.” Steve spoke from beside him. Bucky’s head snapped to his friend, eyes wide and body still frozen. 

“We can't leave. Not without her.” He all but begged. 

“You heard Natasha, she’s on her way.” He paused, “Nat, you got the files?” He spoke into his earpiece, motioning Bucky to follow him to the entrance they had come through. 

“Yeah, I have them. Thanks for asking by the way. I’m great, two more bullet holes in my gut, but yeah, files are more important.” She scoffed, causing Steve to roll his eyes.  “I’m headed to the entrance right now.”

“No, I’m not leaving without Y/n!” Bucky tried to pull away from Steve, but he was stronger. A fact he would never admit to the guy, his head was already big enough. 

“She’s not here Buck. They wouldn't blow the compound with her in it.” He persisted.

Sam’s voice interjected, “Jet’s fired up, you guys better get the fuck outta there. We have less than a minute.” 

Bucky and Steve ran through the dark hallways together until they almost slammed into Nat’s small frame. He gasped when she appeared in the hollow moonlight. Her face was contorted in pain, something he was all too familiar with. Guilt.

“I lost her. I’m so sorry, it was my job to-” She broke off into a sob. Bucky wanted to agree. Yell that if she was a better agent- a better person his girl would be coming home with them. But he couldn't... This was on him. He knew it was a bad idea to bring you on the mission. He deserved all the blame. 

“She’s not dead. Not yet anyways. But we will be if we don't get out of here.” Steve yelled over the alarms blaring in the hallway. 

Bucky and Nat both nodded, and followed Steve across the field. Before they could reach the jet, the warehouse behind them rumbled before letting out an earth shattering explosion, sending the two of them flying into the ground. Without hesitation, Bucky grabbed Natasha's hand and pulled her from the ground. He wrapped her arm around his shoulder and all but dragged her body onto the jet. 

“Vision’s been alerted we need medical. He’s been staying at a safe house in Munich. We can be there in thirty minutes.” Steve spoke urgently, rifling through the cabinets of the jet looking for the first aid kit. 

“Seriously guys, it's a flesh wound. I’m- Ah!” Nat screamed in pain as the jet hit a spout of turbulence. 

“Like you were saying.” Wanda smirked, placing her hands carefully on Nats' wound. Her hands glowed a deep red as she tried to relieve the pain. The spy’s face relaxed, but only for a moment before she was back to worried. 

“He’s alive, Buck.” Nat spoke, and when she did, he could hear the fear in her words. 

“Who?” Steve demanded, but Nat’s eyes stayed put on Bucky’s. 

“Tommy. She said his name in the hallway. It was him, Buck. He’s not dead. He’s the one that shot me, the one that took her.” Nat flinched in pain as Wanda's hands fell from her side. 

“That’s not possible.” Bucky shook his head. “Steve found my mission file. I killed him. I remembered it. You just don't walk away from that.” 

“Well, clearly you do.” Nat spoke sarcastically, pointing to the gushing holes in the body. 

“So Tommy’s alive? And he’s Hydra now?” Wanda asked, suddenly realising her hands were not on Nat’s wounds anymore. She placed them back silently apologising. 

“And he’s got Y/n.” Bucky added, his jaw clenched in anger. 

“We’ll get her back.” Steve spoke. He placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder which he quickly shrugged off, pacing back and forth through the small aircraft. 

“I know we will. And i’m going to finish the fucking job and tear that prick in two.” He seethed, mostly to himself. 

He tried to focus on the task at hand. Desperately brainstorming how to get to you, but his mind was spirling. How could he just leave you? How could he have been so stupid? The sound of his name leaving your lips echoed around him, only fuling his growing rage. 

“All our tactical suits have hidden trackers in the sleeves. We will hear it go off, but until then we wait. They cant have gotten far.” Steve started as the jet began its descent. “We're almost at the safe house. We’ll track her from there. In the morning, we’ll head out.”

“Morning? That's too long. She could be-'' Bucky cut himself off, too broken at the thought to finish that sentence. “I’ll find her myself tonight.” He grumbled. 

“Oh no you don’t. We’re a team, Buck. We do this together. Vision will be able to enable her tracker. But we need to work together. We can't lose anybody else to impulse decisions.” Steve scolded. 

He knew his friend was right but it didn't make it any easier to agree. All Bucky wanted to go but get you back. Keep you safe and never let anyone touch you again. He tried to keep his distance before, he really did, but that was out the window now. There wasn't a chance in hell he was leaving your side after this. As for the man that ripped you from his grasp, oh boy… He tried not to make a habit out of fantasizing murder, mostly as it resulted in the Winter Soldier coming out of the shadows, but if that was the case with Tommy, so be it. Only when Bucky stood in a pile or carnage and gore and blood would he finally feel peace again...

“We're coming up on the safe house. Y'all ready to bail?” Sam's voice tore Bucky out of his thoughts, and thankfully so. He was sure it was leading to a very destructive path. 

“Buck, help us get Nat inside. Wanda and Sam - sweep the area, make sure no one has followed us. I’ll fill Vision in on what's happened and see if he can turn on Y/n’s tracker now.” Steve commanded as he hopped out of the jet. 

“Can you stand?” Bucky asked, dipping down to tuck Nats arm around his shoulder, helping her up. She nodded reluctantly, wincing in pain as she moved. 

The safe house was a small cabin in the middle nowhere. Munich was only a few minutes down the road but the thick coverage of trees that surrounded the cabin made it feel secluded and hard to be spotted from above.  If they weren't followed, no one would ever know they were here. 

Bucky helped Nat inside, letting Steve and Wanda take over once they were through the door. Before he could enter, he stopped, taking a moment to gaze upon the sun rising over the mountains. In a few hours, he’d be with you again. He just had to make it until then, and pray to whatever god would still have him, that you were alive. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Продолжай копать. Нам надо её найти.” Keep digging. We have to find it. The voice rang in your mind, waking you from the recurring nightmare. Visions of Tommy and that boyish smile that once brought so much happiness.. His voice, the way it used to say your name, now only causing you ache. 

“Wait, rewind there! Вернись. That’s it.” The voice spoke again, echoing around the room. You opened your eyes slowly, taking in your surroundings, but all you were met with was darkness. You could feel movement around you, but the blindfold tied around your eyes masked their faces. 

“I’m positive she told me what was in that serum.” His voice caused your heart to just about leap from your chest. You knew that voice anywhere. 

“You better be right. You're as good as dead to me otherwise.” Another man spoke. 

“No I’m sure. Wait! Right there. Replay that part.” Tommy asserted. 

Suddenly a headache burned through your temples, scorching the inside of your eyes. You screamed in pain as it coarsed though your body until an image appeared in your mind. It replayed over and over, making you dizzy. 

“Whatcha doing?” Tommy cooed, taking a seat on your desk. 

“Just trying to find the right components.” You spoke, not taking your eyes microscope as you examined the petri dish below. 

“Cummon, baby. You've been at this for hours. Come eat something.” You looked up, Tommy stood there with that big goofy smile you loved so much. 

“I’ve almost got it. Just a little longer.” You reassured him, rolling in your chair and picking up another sample and analysing it. 

“What exactly is, it?” he asked, emphasizing the word. 

“If I mix the steroid with-” 

Another shrieking jolt of pain seared through you as the memory disappeared, leaving you trembling. 

“Go back, we almost had it!” Someone yelled from beside you. 

You tried to scream, to beg them to stop, but it was no use. Before you could try again, the same horrible pain erupted through your body, ripping you back to the distant memory. 

“If I mix the steroid with human blood, it does as it's designed.  But taking into account the theory of nuclear transmutation, we can assume given the right element we can use the serum to absorb its surroundings, right?” You spoke, like it was common sense. 

“Sure…” Tommy chuckled. 

“So, strip down the original serum, add radiation to its compound, now it needs the ability to absorb energy… What element do we know has that power?” it wasn't a question, nor did you think Tommy would know the answer so you continued, “Water, and our bodies are basically made of that. So in turn, if we can create the original serum mixed with high levels of radiation, inject the person, granted you're not killed by that high levels of toxicity, we're looking at a new type of Super Soldier. One that could, in theory, mutate around the serum and absorb its surroundings!” You finally finished.

“I have no idea what any of that means… But it sounds cool. Now put the vile down, and eat something.” He laughed, grabbing the sample out of your hands and carefully placing it on the table next to you.

“Thats it!” Someone shouted. “Of course, why didn't we think of this. Call the commander, tell him we found it.” 

You felt your body twist in agony, but soon the memory left, leaving you back in the dark with disembodied voices echoing around you. 

“What do you want me to do with her?” a man asked. 

“I don't care. убить её?” Kill her? You froze at his words. Even if you could move, your hands were tied down to the chair. Gentally you wiggle your fingers, careful not to draw any attention to yourself. Not that you would be able to tell. The ring that Shuri had made you was still there. If you timed in right, and you still had Wanda’s borrowed power, you could use it to untie yourself and hopefully get the fuck out of this hell hole. 

“Kill her?” Tommy choked. “You didn't say anything about killin’ her?” 

“You should be thankful. The girl’s been sharing a bed with the same man who killed you once before. In fact, I’m so pleased with your work developing this memory decoder that I’ll give you the honour.” The man spoke, shuffling around the room. “Here, tell me when you're done having your fun.” A few heavy footsteps later, and you finally heard the door close. The silence was deafening, but eventually, Tommy let out a deep breath and took a step towards you, ripping your blind fold off. 

You squinted as you tried to acclimate your eyes to the lighting of the room. It was small and dark, but a few dim lights hung above you illuminating Tommy's features. Once upon a time you would have described them as strong and rugged. Now they seemed to loom over you, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, softer than you expected. You quickly clocked the pistol in his left hand and tried to suppress a scoff. 

“Am I okay?” You gawked at him. “You just dug through my head like a sand pit. No- no I’m not okay you shit head!” You screamed. 

Tommy chuckled, using the gun to scratch the back of his neck. “Touché…” He spoke, pulling up a stool and plopping himself down on it infront of you. “I missed that attitude baby. Really, these past couple years have been hell without you. These guys are really scary, but I told em- I said, my girl will know what to do. And you did, baby. I never doubted you.” His voice was like honey. Thick and sickenly sweet. 

“What are you talking about?! I thought you were dead!? I mourned you, asshole. And you've been alive this whole time, working against me?” You couldn't believe how cavalier he was being about this. Tommy only shrugged, fuling the rage inside you. 

“Nah, it's not like that. I was dead, really I was. But then Hydra came and BOOM I was back. They promised me that they’d keep me safe, as long as I could help em get that serum you were always talkin’ bout. Said they wanted to give it time in your system, make sure it didn't kill ya.” He started, narrowing his eyes slowly, “You grieved me? That's a funny way of putting it. Cause from what I saw in that head of yours, you were pretty chummy with that Soldier.”  

You couldn't stifle the scoff that erupted in your mouth. “You're kidding right? Jesus, Tom. They brainwashed me. And I don't need to explain myself. You're sick, you know that?  How could you do this? Do you have any idea what they're going to use that serum for?” You fired the questions off like explosives into his chest, but he didn't even flinch. 

“I don't really care. They told me if I gave em’ your little recipe, they’d let me go.” He shrugged. 

“And so what? Now you're going to kill me?” 

“No… Maybe. I haven't really decided yet.” He looked down at the pistol like it was the first time he really noticed it was there. Contemplating your death like he was deciding between his morning coffee. 

“I would get going on that if I were you.” You lifted your hands, wiggling your wingers playfully “Really, Tommy, you're not cut out for this line of work.” You spat, jumping from your seat and landing a hard kick to his gut, sending him flying back. The gun ricocheted off the ground and hit the wall, but before he could react, you grabbed it. In one swift move you turned the safety off and placed your finger on the trigger. 

“Cummon baby, let's talk about this.” He raised his hands in surrender. “You wouldn't shoot me.” 

You cocked a brow, “You sound really confident in that statement. Especially for a boy who was debating my death a moment ago.” You argued. 

“Dont take it personally, baby. Anything you can do, I can do better. Remember?” You smirked. 

................................................................................................................................

A/n: Another Cliff hanger? Yes. Do I know how to wrote anything else? No... My bad lol. I hope your enjoyed this one as much as I did writing it! As always, @cutie1365​ is the bomb dot com for editing this for me. Tommy sucks, we both agree. I hope he gets whats coming to him... please leave some love and reblog if you read it! 

@kalesrebellion​

@projectcampbell​

@calwitch​

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[fulcrum-agent]

008. Adroid [FFXIVwrite2021]

"So just...pick a big room?" she asks the punkish apparition, head canting a little.

The redhead nods, smirking a little. "You're a clever girl, Quil - I trust ya won't pick somewhere with so little space, the bulkheads get blown up."

There's the briefest moment of blue screening brain at the compliment, but it's gone in a microsecond.

"'Cept when it comes to that other thing you brought up," she chides, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. "That was stupid as fuck, and we're gonna be discussin' it when you're done kicking this Miqo'te about."

Quila can't help but wince, giving the Arcadia a sheepish expression.

All the apparition does to such is wave her hand a little dismissively. "I said later. Call your new potential toy - just be sure ta gimme a show~."

Then just like that, Quila's alone again. Sort of. Mostly. Sighing, she reaches up for the linkpearl that's paired to her tomestone. "Karuis...found us a place to train."

"Ah, and here I thought I was gonna resign to watching the rain bounce off the bulkhead. Where am I meeting you?"

Xe has busied xemselves with taking up a curled up position somewhere in one of the Outlaw's more out of the way pieces of real estate, some cross beams nearby to some of the larger guns. Xe hops down from their Miqo accessible locale as xe wait for the exact location, tail flicking idly behind xem.

"You grab a place ground side, I assume?

"Nah. Arcadia's letting us pick a room," she explains but doesn't. "I figure one of the cargo bays is gonna be best, yeah?"

She's already making her way through the massive ship. She's trying to find where the cargo bays actually are, given she's near the bridge out of habit.

"Long as we have permission, that's fine with me. And aye, cargo bay works fine."

Xe didn't really require an explanation, everything after talking house, living through the memories of others, a massive skeleton trying to kill xem, and whatever the fuck the past few moons have been...

Xe assumes the Arcadia is just as alive as anyone else, and she told Quila what room to use. As xe make their way over to the other airship, xe give some idle thoughts to where precisely in the cargo bay they were meeting before deciding that finding out could be the adventure. Xe gives a slight bow of respect as xe come aboard the Arcadia before xe start moving like a shade through the halls, the map the Viera had shown before of this great airship bouncing about between their ears; as xe try to find... oh, there she is. By providence, luck, or maybe just The Arcadia being well designed xe spot the Garlean and give a half-wave, tail flicking behind xem.

"Didn't get lost, did we? Would be a little concerned if you did."

"Pfft, she'd let me if only to watch in sadistic amusement," she chirps as she turns, startling a little physically due to their lack of footfalls. "But, there are multiple cargo bays here. This is just the first one I've found. This ship is MASSIVE, and I feel like it's some sort of game to her to not just...give me a map."

"I could certainly see that; watching people wander around aimlessly can be pretty hilarious." The Seeker blinks at the noise before rubbing the back of their head as xe put on a small smile. "Sorry, someone had the bright idea to put a bell on me when I was young, fucking menace ever since, apparently. But! I have a map.. kind of, at least I remember the floor plans or whatnot. Rika managed to snag, so I mostly know my way around.. but that doesn't stop me from being thankful that I haven't gotten lost.. yet."

Xe glances about the cargo bay for a moment before turning their gaze back to her and motioning to her, finding a nearby support beam to lean on.

"So, what's the plan for today? Am I starting with teaching you the basics of Thavnarian dance fighting, or are we sparring to see where you are in hand to hand generally and working from there?"

At this point, she's in a pair of shorts (black), stockings (dark purple), her almost-trademark boots (black & gold), and one of those tank tops that the Isghardians were handing out to crafters (wine red). While she doesn't have Talekeeper with her, at least, as far as can be seen, she's still wearing the Warmage magicite Locke'd given her as a pendant to the collar she seems to wear 24/7.

When he speaks of the bell, she ends up giggling a little, trying to picture xe with a collar bell...which was surprisingly easy.

"I'm thinking we try some hand-to-hand so you can figure outplacement," she notes with something of a wicked grin, suddenly ramping towards manic. "Just don't go easy on me."

Xe has swapped over to something more warm with their Bozjan coat now missing for The Twelve only know how long. So the Seeker has thrown on a currant purple anemos gambison, some modified jet black strife pants, and one of their constantly swapping pairs of combat boots, these ones an Alliance make in soot black. Xe still has the twin onyx and dark amber revolvers gifted to xem by Locke on their belt though, besides that, xe aren't carrying any type of polearms. The two accessories that stand out are a watch on their left wrist that has a faint hint of aetheric energy coming off of it and a dull grey gunmetal tin clipped on their right, just about the size of a soul stone.

Xe raises a brow at the snickering and just shake their head a little; that smile from before staying before it turns into a grin at she's request.

"I wasn't planning on it; it wouldn't be an accurate assessment if I did take it easy. So I'll give you one warning before we do go; if you're gonna try and flow again, I'll start using my stone. On your mark, Aquila."

As soon as those words leave the Seeker, their demeanour switches with all the effort of a light switch, mismatched gaze narrowing as xe drop into a defensive stance, the style more reminiscent of an Imperial martial discipline than anything else.

"I uh...kinda don't know how to make those moves otherwise, so game on?" she replies as she falls into...absolutely no stance. There's nothing. Her stance is absolutely neutral all around, and suddenly, all but the most necessary of movements evaporates as she begins to focus on xem. It's slow, but there's a pronounced shift in her entire being, down to an aetheric level. A change she doesn't seem to be aware of.

She's almost maddening to fight. Any and all movement happens with barely a microsecond of warning, yet all of them still flow as though she's dancing, not fighting. Even watching the triangle, her telegraphs are tiny as hell; she always falls back to neutral if there's time, otherwise flowing from one motion to the next as xe fight.

And just like that, she blinks into the Lifestream to close the distance, ejecting just in reach of xe - as she had on the deck, only this time with the intent of actually striking him right in the solar plexus.

Xe would have clarified that xe head meant the blinking manoeuvre, but when xe takes in that she lacks stance, any of those thoughts leave xir mind. The Seeker catches the shift instance, their ears pinning back and tail puffing up as xe prepare for that same focus xe encountered on the deck of The Outlaw.

The dance-like flow to the spar thus far and the speed on display put the Seeker right in their element, moving with all of the grace that being both a Miqo'te and professional performer granted them as xe keep in sync with the Garlean. The Seeker shifts between and around styles like breathing the longer the fight goes on, prodding and poking at her defences to find her responses and strengths to certain things. The Seeker seems to favour a style favoured by Doman resistance cells, sending out elbows and fist and knee strikes in rapid succession.

Like a viper, the Seeker waited for that shift in the air as she went into the Lifestream. Xe know that point for point, xe weren't going to be able to match the manoeuvre for sheer speed, so instead, xe rely on the anticipation of the strike's previous flow. With an utter lack of hesitation, the Seeker moves to send out a swift dragoon kick, less focused on power but more on sheer speed as it snaps the air around the two. xir's body twists for the kick and hopefully moves the blow to somewhere less disastrous should it land. Xe was not about to hold back here, she deserved the Seeker at their best, and xe weren't one to disappoint.

Given that xe is a clever catte, xe'll quickly pick up on certain hallmarks of what she's capable of combatively: one of her biggest strengths is the lack of movement telegraphing, as it makes finding any sort of opening complex, at first. While her eyes seem to be unfocused, she locked onto the triangle that's formed by the Miqo'te's collarbones and sternum, that distant gaze seeming to more stare into their soul than past xem.

Blinking back into a kick sends her strike wide, the palm of her hand skimming along the side of his leg as she adjusts to try and block the kick before sliding around the side of Karius' body. Should she slide past him, her next attack is towards the middle of his lower back - another snapping strike with a bit of aether behind it, her second hand following to make a small follow-up strike.

With a better sense of what xe were working with when it came to her, the Seeker decides to switch up tactics. Xe shifts energy from trying to read the Garlean's movements to instead focusing on following through on their own and keeping a sense of spatial awareness in the room. Xe decides to eat the strike to their lower back, the energy needed to counter that far too much of a gamble; the weaker follow-up was a different story, however.

Turning on a dime on their heel, xe move to face she, using the speed and momentum of the rapid turn to try and veer the strike off to their left with their palm. Now fully facing she and the distance relatively short, xe go on the offensive, taking a far more aggressive stance as xe unleash a combination of palm and knee strikes. Xe wasn't relying on all of them to hit but instead overwhelming the other fighter with a complete switch from their previously tight defence. Xir's aim at the moment seemed to get the two of them out to a far smaller section of the cargo bay or at least push them to fight closer to this area.

Surprisingly, she doesn't smile at landing the strike. In fact, her expression is little more than deadpan as xe launch the continuous series of strikes. At first, she manages to keep up on blocking or redirecting the hits, but the longer xe continues the tactic, the more she has to pivot or dodge than she does block. Finally, it's becoming clear xir is going to overwhelm her with the rapid strikes...

...and as the Miqo'te overwhelms her, she blinks into the Lifestream, crossing through xe before flashing back into existence at their back. She's already executing a roundhouse kick as she solidifies, aiming for her opponent's middle back.

The Seeker was not about to let up the advantage of xir's rapid combos as xe continues to press her further into the smaller section of the cargo hold, boots squeaking against the metal floor as their speed increases. xe were, however, incredibly aware that xe couldn't keep it up forever; either she would come right for their throat or-

The sensation of being teleported through gets xem to shiver, warning xem what may be coming alongside dreading that blink. Unfortunately, there just isn't enough time for xem to dodge the strike, at least not in a way that wouldn't give her another big opening to exploit. So xe quickly turn on their heel and brace their arms up to catch the blow, which still sends the Seeker sliding back and does some solid damage. Xe hiss in pain as xe take a moment to centre xemselves before rushing into the Garlean's space. xir's method swaps now to something far faster, using their stone to gather as much momentum and speed as xe can while bleeding into these dancer-like strikes and spins. Thavnairian dance fighting, and xe gave her a crash course like an Imperial locomotive coming down the tracks.

Active learning at this speed is possible for the Warmage, though it was more of a slow build-up rather than a sudden gift of knowledge the way it can be when there's less going on. Falling back to focusing on dodging more than redirecting or blocking, xe would start to notice the more xe does a particular mood or technique, the more likely it is that she works it into her side of the fighting. With movements the Miqo'te's using heavily, she can almost perfectly mirror them; with the less frequent movements, she's a little unstable and erratic, her form nowhere near as tight and proper.

The continued attacks again start to press her, causing her to play defensive more than offensive.

Xe's next high kick ends with a different result: she doesn't attempt to block, redirect, or dodge such the way she has been. No, instead, she just...bends back at the waist, forming an almost perfect arch as her hands drop to the floor behind her. And then she pushes her feet off of the floor, intent of kicking her opponent with each foot as she shifts into a handstand before vaulting from such to her feet - facing xe, but several fulms away now.

As xe starts to notice she putting xir's techniques into her fighting styles and the like, that.. certainly gets a reaction from xem. But, then, something snaps from behind their crimson and amber eyes. The Seeker continues darting into she's space as much as xe can up until that next high kick, eyes going a bit wide as xe watch that arch and then the kick lands.

The hit lands nicely and sends xe sliding back, getting their tail to puff up and to show off their sharp canines, which are considerably sharper and pointed than even a vast majority of Keepers. Unfortunately, this fact doesn't stay in the spotlight for long as black aether sparks around xem as xe concentrates on their stone and go on an onslaught. Xe was going to put pressure on the fact she couldn't precisely copy their techniques perfectly or keep up with their speed to the same extent. If she continued using flow, then xe wasn't going to go easy, sending forth kick after dashing elbow to shin strike. One of the main strikes xe go into xe get right in her face and attempt a sweeping kick the Garlean before spinning into another kick to her midsection.

The initial onslaught causes her to start losing ground rapidly, causing her to dart backwards as she refocuses on trying to dodge as many of the strikes as possible. However, the moment the Seeker starts to focus on her face, she blinks backwards three separate times - putting as much distance as possible between them. Although she retreats, xe' leg sweep fully lands while the second is more of a light graze across her stomach.

She crashes to the floor as she exists the Lifestream the third time, rolling several times due to the force of the impact. Such is only stopped when the back of her upper body slams into the metal wall with a loud clanging thud. For a few heartbeats, she's propped up against the wall before her eyes fully roll back into her head as she falls sideways.

Xe was in the zone and was hard-pressed to get out of it, especially with the amount of blinking around the place that she was doing. Despite the serious expression on their face, xe were having so much fun with all of this. Xe goes to try and bring down another combination when xe hear that crash.

Xe pauses a few fulms away from the Garlean before their eyes go wide, and xe dart over to her side. Then, cursing under their breath as xe tries to force xemselves to not only calm down but try to figure out what might be wrong with their limited medical experience.

"Shit, shit... Aquila, are you alright?"

((Adapted from an RP session with Karuis.))

#ffxivwrite2021

[angsty-nerd]

RNM 2X13 - Echo Download

I've been having a hard time trying to put my feelings about the Season 2 finale into words, so I've been sitting on it for a few days, reading everyone's metas, and trying to organize and separate my actual thinky thoughts from the angst and heartache. That… is not something I am particularly good at. But I'm trying.

I LOVE this show. The writing is a mess. There's plot holes all over the place. The pacing issues alone make me want to tear my hair out. And dear God do I want them to give these characters and relationships (including friendships) the time and space for the big moments to land properly. I don't know if we'll ever get any of that though. And in the meantime, I love these characters and the story, messes and all.

Everyone knows my biggest love is Echo, so I'm gonna start there.

"I don't know what you thought love was gonna be like when we were 17, but it's not all sunsets and horseback rides."

Back in the OG days, there was one consistent criticism I had with the way they wrote Max and Liz's story: the breakups always felt like bullshit. Max breaks up with Liz because she was afraid of some weird alien shit. Liz breaks up with Max because he's "supposed to be with Tess" and meanwhile he's like, "um… no?" We had "it's too dangerous" when it was dangerous regardless. "We're just different" but not in ways that actually mattered.

Echo's breakup mattered. There were issues and they were not dealing with them. Both of them were sneaking around behind the other's back. Neither was being fully honest with the other.

The unwavering honesty was something that stood out to me in S1. Yes, Max was hiding the truth about Rosa's death. But when it came to the present they were almost laughably open with each other. Liz didn't lie about it when Max asked if she told Kyle the truth. When Max asked what she was doing in the lab, she told him the truth. Once Liz knew the truth about Rosa, she knew everything. It seemed like with that truth out there was nothing left to hide. And once they got together they were a team. Immediately. There's a reason that we had a joking headcanon in the Echo world that they had their first kiss and then they were a married couple.

I really think Max's death not only put that to a screeching halt...it also put them on this path to the breakup. Liz has abandonment issues, and Max made a choice, without her, that resulted in him leaving her alone. It wasn't openly discussed in the depth that it should have been this season, but I really do think it was issue #1. Liz loves Max and she was very happy being with him...but after he came back from the dead she didn't trust him to not leave her again. It was an issue simmering under the surface from Episode 7 until the finale. Liz channeled it all into worrying about his heart, but the underlying theme was a resounding "I can't go through that again". Which is deeper than just the worry over a physical health problem. And it pushed Max away from her.

He grew irritable with her. He started hiding things from her and lying to her. The season just ended and I have no idea if he ever told her anything about his memory flashes! He was obsessively trying to learn about his past and never once discussed it with Liz!?? Because he didn't want her to stop him from using the serum? This is a HUGELY personal thing to Max and you can see how much it means to him. He had tears in his eyes while telling Isobel about it. I mean, that puppy dog excitement, and yet, he hides it all whenever Liz is around.

I think it was around episode 8 that we started talking about how badly they needed to have a big fight. Us -- the Echo shippers -- the ones who WANT them to be together -- were BEGGING them to fight. I hate conflict!! But the lack of honestly and the aversions were just building and building and I just wanted it all out on the table.

They finally STARTED having that fight in episode 11, but then Rosa and Isobel interrupted. In retrospect, sweet alien!Jesus, I wish they could have finished then. Maybe they would have gotten the air clear between them. Maybe it would have put them on a path to healing their relationship before the finale. But they didn't, so the breakup happened. And the thing is… that ending. It just kind of haunts me. Liz waiting and hoping for a grand gesture that never comes. I mean, did Max even know WHEN she was leaving!?! He sure didn't seem to have it on his mind when they flashed to him in that scene. And their fight...was all about what Liz was doing and Max not taking care of his heart. They never once touched on what he was trying to learn about his past. I'm pretty certain that Liz left without knowing any of that.

And the thing is… I'm sort of skirting around the meat of the issue here. Because the biggest problem of all of this was Liz violating Max by studying his biology without consent.

I really hate saying that in writing, because, to me, it's kind of the most horrible part of all of this.

Max Evans has been referred to in jest in this fandom as the King of Consent. He was so careful with Liz, tiptoeing around her looking for explicit consent in Season 1 until her desire for him was made abundantly clear. He only ignored the need for consent twice: both times in the S1 finale. Healing Michael's hand and healing Rosa. But those things both happened after he killed Noah. After he was high on his own power. They were very clearly set up as out of character for him.

Liz didn't give him the same respect. Consent does not just apply to sexual situations and healing. It applies to studying too. It applies to Liz USING Max's biology without his permission. It also applies to administering the cure to Steph without her consent. Liz was very, very wrong here.

And the thing is… it sure didn't seem like the writers saw it that way. It also didn't seem like JEANINE saw it that way. There's been a little bit more balanced quotes from them in interviews this week since the finale ended as far as saying that both Max and Liz were wrong, but they sure focused on Liz being incredible and strong before the finale aired.

The part that confuses me though...like, a LOT, is that the narrative was pretty clear that what Liz was doing was Bad and Wrong. She looked guilty. She was lying and hiding things from Max. And the MORAL COMPASS OF THE SHOW, Mr. Kyle Valenti, repeatedly told her she was wrong. Kyle called her out on her ethical violations even as he was thanking her for saving Steph.

Genoryx was set up as being bad. Liz herself refused to go work for them in the flashbacks because they were morally sketchy. Although, maybe that's the draw now that she is all full of ethical violations. Sigh.

I'm gonna leave this topic now, but I'll encourage you to go read @latessitrice's meta on the subject here:

Okay...so to sum this up? The breakup was coming. We knew it was coming. But it still hurt my heart so much. I haven't seen anyone gif Jeanine's performance of the "I am in love with you. And I hate that right now." But the delivery of that line broke me.

That being said...do I see it being over? Let's give that a resounding FUCK, NO. I mean, sure, they fought. And it hurt. And Liz ran away. Without saying goodbye. And all of that SHATTERED ME.

But...they still love each other even if they both have a lot to work on individually. That’s part of what MADE it so hard.

I am actually stoked for season 3. Two Maxes? All of the delicious angst once Liz gets home. Liz not knowing there's two Maxes and meeting Jones first and not knowing who he is and being vulnerable to his mindfuckery? Or just his fuckery in general. Whatever. I am here for it.

I am here for Liz discovering that something about Genoryx is Not Right. I'm here for her living a normal life and getting drawn back into the madness. I'm here for Max getting more powerful and more alieny under Jones's guidance. And I am here for what I am certain will be an epic reunion once they are back together again.

As a last more positive comment...I’m stoked that we get to have both Max and Liz alive and facing interesting potential storylines this hiatus. All I wanted from this finale, in truth, was to leave the characters in a place that inspired me to want to write for them for the next year plus or however long this COVID-extended hiatus ends up being. And I am so excited for that.

And I have talked enough now that I will go ahead and post this and leave this post as my Echo Takeaways from the finale. I'll be back again with some more gen/bigger picture thoughts later.

#roswell new mexico #rnm season 2 #rnm echo #max&liz #max evans #liz ortecho #ogroswell #feeling the feels #ouch my heart #rnm echo meta #my meta

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter one - “to wakanda”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1,564

summary: reader works for what used to be shield as a highly skilled neuropsychologist. after the events in vienna involving the sokovia accords and a bombing, she gets an interesting request from friend and coworker sharon carter...a request involving none other than steve rogers and james barnes.

[A/N:] not my photo

warnings: brief & indirect mentions of abuse

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

"I don't know Sharon. Are you sure I'm really the right person for this? I'm not, like, an Avengers level tech. Are you sure they don't want a genius or someone like Stark to do it?"

"Well, Stark is pretty busy right now, and honestly, no one knows psych like you. Not who I've met anyway."

"That is so not true. I'm willing to bet there's tons of other people you guys got somewhere who are ten times what I am."

"Agent (Y/L/N), in case you missed it, SHIELD isn't what it used to be. Sure we have old agents who aren't formally 'SHIELD agents,' anymore, but we don't have the expendability we used to. You're our best bet at the moment."

"Damn. I'm your best bet. I'm sorry," she almost chuckled, but then she thought for a brief moment. "Are you sure this is completely necessary? I mean, I saw the photo on the news. The quality's poor at best, and..."

She leaned in, discretely, and whispered.

"...not to seem like a conspiracy theorist commie or anything, but it kinda seems like people are jumping to conclusions here. Are we even sure it was Barnes who set off the bomb?"

Sharon looked around them, cautiously. No one seemed to be listening, but she scanned the room like her life as she knew it was hanging in the balance. She weighed her words in her head, making sure she picked the right ones, then formulated a response appropriate.

"Regardless of if it was him or not, Barnes still escaped. and before that, Ste-we'd been looking for him for almost two years. This analysis is necessary," Sharon brought her voice down even lower. "At least that's what I keep being told. Of course I'd like there to be more solid proof, but I'm not in charge here. He's gone, and they want to be able to find him and 'sort things out.'"

"'Sort things out,'" (Y/N) repeated, questioning the genuineness of whomever told Sharon that. "Unless they have hard evidence that it was him who set off the bomb in Vienna, shouldn't they leave that to uh...Captain America?"

She wondered how Barnes was able to escape in the first place. She saw the containment module he was in; there's no way he could've gotten out without a fight. ...But maybe it wasn't a fight. Perhaps it was a trigger word induced rage. (Y/N) understood a basic layout of the "Winter Soldier." SHIELD would've kept any information they had classified. However, after the fiasco in Washington, d.c. with Hydra and the whole releasing of all files predicament, she was able, with Sharon's help, to put together a simple outline. With that being said, he couldn't have broken out without going Winter Soldier mode. But doesn't someone need the trigger words for that?

“That's what a reasonable person would think, but once again, I'm not in charge," Sharon shrugged. "Things would probably be going a lot smoother if I was, but you can't have everything."

(Y/N) cracked a smile. Sharon was a friend, and a good one too. They'd known each other since before SHIELD was shattered in 2014. In fact, Sharon helped train her.

The only thing was: Sharon was a higher ranking agent and often withheld certain information from (Y/N). It frustrated her. This was where their personal boundaries got in the way of their professional ones.

She could tell there was something Sharon wasn't telling her, but she wasn't about to compromise either of their positions by pushing for information she wasn't supposed to know. Hell, maybe even Sharon knows something she isn't supposed to. Or maybe she knows something that Everett Ross wouldn't like. What if she was keeping something from him? Defying him? What if she was working with Steve Rogers? Now that would be interesting.

(Y/N) was used to secrets around her all the time. She knew Sharon had her fair share, and trying to figure them out wouldn't really get her anywhere.

"Right. Okay. Well, I'll get on this then. Thanks, Agent Carter," she teased in late response to Sharon's 'Agent (Y/N).’

Sharon offered a quick smile before walking off to attend to other business.

- - -

Pain. That was all it was. In every sense of the word. As she strenously made her way through the densely packed file of one James Buchanan Barnes, pain was all she could see. All she could read. It leaked out of the page and seeped into her skin like poison.

It was horrific what they did to him. She knew he had his memory wiped, had someone pull him out and stick someone else in. But it was more than just that. They took his past, his memories, his thoughts; and they ripped them from his mind, leaving an empty space to mold into their own. It was after this when Hydra, in every way they could, dehumanized him, made him less than. He was striped of his freedom, his control, his choice, his humanity, of everything that made him him. They beat and bruised and broke it out this empty human shell until he was nothing but a shadow of faded morality and consciousness.

But hell, she couldn't look away. She was glued to the aftershock of this horrible wreckage. All the years of studying Psychology and Neuroscience couldn't have possibly prepared her for the absolute horror that was his past, his abuse, his torture. It was heinous. Frankly, she questioned how he was still alive. How he still had the will and the drive to be alive. How do you live after that?

"Fuck," she breathed after eons of silence.

She seemed to lose her sense of time whilst she was immersed in the harrowing nightmare of Hydra's cruelty. 'Cruelty' doesn't even come close to doing it justice. When she came to, her desk looked like a bomb went off. Papers were bursting out of manilla folders, littering the linoleum surface with classified files and secret information. She leaned back in her chair, and gave herself a minute to debrief.

(Y/N) almost felt guilty, like she things she looked at were so vile, so violating that she didn't have the right to see them. Sure, she had read and analyzed all sorts of trauma and psychological profiles. But he was different. Something about James Barnes was different. It tangled her mind the fact that a person could endure all that. She could only imagine the effect that would have on the human brain. The possibilities are endless. Suddenly bombing the UN didn't seem so far fetched.

- - -

"Jesus Christ," (Y/N) murmured, staring at her office floor as Sharon finished explaining to her what happened at the Leipzig Halle Airport.

She sat mostly in silence as she pondered over the information just fed to her. Apparently Tony Stark gathered a 'team' to try and intercept Captain America - sorry - Steve Rogers and his (supposed) fugitive friend. It was chaos.

"What is this? Fuckin' Avengers Fight Night?" she wondered aloud. "How many people did you say were there?"

"Twelve total," Sharon clarified. "Five with Stark and five with Steve."

The psychologist shook her head, dumbfounded. "How did it end?"

"Steve and Barnes got out, but everyone else with them were captured and sent to the Raft."

"The Raft?!" (Y/N) exclaimed. "That's for, like, super humans! Not people like Sam Wilson or Clint Barton!"

"You're telling me."

Sharon seemed in agreement with everything she was saying. However, there was something she couldn't quite place. Like she was holding back. But holding back what?

"So what of Rogers and Barnes?" (Y/N) pushed.

Sharon got up and closed the office door before returning to her seat, leaning in, and lowering her voice. This secretive woman, god damn it.

"Well... That's what I came to talk to you about."

Oh boy. She didn't have a semblance of a single idea of what to expect. Apparently Sharon noticed.

"We're the only ones that know this. They're fine..." the agent trailed off, "They're in Wakanda, but they need a little help."

"Are you leaving?!" (Y/N) all but yelled before quickly slapping a hand over her mouth and uncovering it only to whisper, "Do you and Rogers have a thing or something? Cause' I don't know how else you would know all of this when I'm sure that no one else does considering he's now an enemy of several governments!"

"My relations with Steve Rogers are not the focus here." She could've sworn Sharon flushed. "But we have been in contact; I'm one of the few people he can trust right now, and I don't plan on letting him down anytime soon."

They totally have a thing.

"Noted," said (Y/N) with a nod, "but why are you telling me this? Does he want the profile analysis or something? I don't see how he would need it if he's known Barnes for however long."

"Not exactly..." Sharon fidgeted with her hands. "We need you to go to Wakanda.”

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky angst #mcu #steve rogers #sharon carter #captain america #bucky reader insert #bucky drabble #bucky headcanon #bucky blurb

[elusive---ivory]

The Woman in Velvet pt. 7

This was tiring.., but it's here! Hooray!! I appreciate my bestfriend @princessgeekface for being my editor, please go check her out she really rules!!

Without a further ado.

PAIRING: Arthur Fleck x Oc

WARNINGS: Mentions of abuse, Self Inflicted Pain.

Taglist:

@gloomybih @princessgeekface @mijachula @memory-mortis

Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

"Well as of right now, Mr. Wayne, I think we can close a deal." The man in the large black suit said over the telephone. "I'm sure she'd be happy to perform. How about next Tuesday? Great! I'll see you then." The man promptly hung up the phone.

The little girl sat in the far corner of the room.

"Good news, sweetheart. You're preforming for Thomas Wayne." The man said to the girl.

The girl's cheeks were red, and her eyes were puffy. Her lips were busted and bruised. She whimpered in the corner. "Great." She whispered to herself.

"You should smile, my dear. It's wonderful news." He walked closer to her. "I love you."

The girl turned away. "No, you don't." She growled.

"What was that?" The man walked up to her with a firing rage.

"You don't love me, Uncle Charlie. If you did, I won't play in these stupid shows." She got off her knees, shaking.

"You quit with this attitude, young lady." He hissed, grabbing onto her shoulders.

"I'm 16 years old, Charlie." She yelled. "Stop controlling my life."

Smack.

"Listen here, I've tried to be nice to you, but you really leave me no choice. Be a good girl, Sandy, and I'll reward you." The man gripped on tight to her large waist.

She pushed him off. "You can't do this to me. Just let me go." The girl screamed.

The man grabbed her by the throat. "Listen here, you fucking bitch. You're not going anywhere as long as I am still alive." He let go of her throat.

She fell to the ground coughing.

"Besides, Sandy, you're useless without me. Completely worthless."

'10:30 am? I guess it could be worse.' She slumped out of her bed, and headed to the kitchen. Sandy couldn't stop thinking about Arthur, and their little date. She didn't know why she was so heads over heels for this boy.

Sandy woke up in a cold sweat. 'Thank fuck that today's my day off.' She thought to herself. Sandy looked over at the clock.

Sandy smiled while stirring her coffee. She sighed dreamily like a schoolgirl, and pressed the button on her answering machine.

"You have (2) new messages." The autonomous voice said.

"Voicemail 1:

Hey, Sandy, It's me, Arthur. I'm heading to Wayne Manor today, and I've got some exciting news." His voice got closer to the phone. "Thomas Wayne is my dad."

Sandy eyes widened. She choked a little on her coffee. 'He's joking, right?' Sandy set her coffee down, and rubbed her temples. "Ugh, damn it, Art." She mumbled to herself.

Meanwhile the answering machine started playing the 2nd message.

"Voicemail 2:

Hello, is this the phone number of Sandy Dolere? I regret to inform that your uncle, Charles Paul Harris, has passed away as of last week. He was suffering from heart failure, and he was scheduled for an operation in December. Charles died in his sleep from natural causes. When you get the chance, please call us back at 467-286-7789."

Sandy looked at the machine. Her hand hovered over the delete button. Softly, she moved her hand and fell to the kitchen floor. Her loud sobs could be heard throughout the complex.

Her coffee mug was shatter with spilled brown liquid all over the floor. Sandy reached over the counter, taking a pack of cigarettes from of the counter. Gently, she placed in in her mouth, laying there on the floor. Sandy got up, finding herself a lighter. She looked over to the bottle of whiskey in the open cabinet. She turned away from it, lighting her cigarette. As Sandy took a long peaceful drag from the cigarette, she exhaled into the dreary morning. She took the cigarette out of her mouth and looked down at her bare arm. Sandy jammed the burning cigarette into her porcelain skin. Tears formed in her eyes as the ashes and blood dripped down her arm. She took the cigarette off and looked at the whole in her arm.

"Fuck." Sandy whispered, throwing her cigarette away. She went over to the bathroom to wash all the blood and sorrow away. She laid there in the bathtub. Hot water flowed out the faucet. She ducked her head under the water, holding in her breath. Whilst she was in her thoughts, she heard a knock at the door.

Quickly, she jumped out of the tub, and put on her lime green robe, usually she expected Arthur to drop by with a quick kiss or so, but to her surprise, it was two detectives in black.

"Good Afternoon, Ms. Dolere. I'm Detective Gordon, and this is my partner Detective Johnson." The detective known as "Gordon" turned to his partner.

"We're looking into the murders that happened on the subway. As you may know they were Wayne employees, and one of them just so happened to be your co-worker, Dennis Cullen." Detective Johnson said, as he stepped inside her apartment. "Nice place." He commented.

"Thanks." Sandy mumbled under her breath. "If you could give me a second, gentleman, I just got out of the tub." Sandy disappeared into the other room, struggling to find clothes.

Detective Gordon sat down on the couch.

"No worries. We'd like to ask you a few questions if you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind." Sandy reentered the room, fully dressed. She sat on the couch, taking a deep breath. She eyed the two detectives up and down.

Detective Gordon shifted in his seat, while Detective Johnson took out a notepad. Both detectives sat across from Sandy, who looked pretty annoyed at them for just being there.

"Where were you on the night the subway murders happened?" Johnson asked, eyeing her reaction.

"I was at home watching the TV. I had a long day at work, and I was unwinding." Sandy replied.

"Right." said Detective Johnson, writing down on his notepad.

"We had asked around about your relationship with Dennis, and they said that you two had a 'thing'. Is this true?" Gordon asked, putting air quotes over the word 'thing'.

"I had no relationship with him. He was just an asshole around the office. He was also the guy to make the most sales, but I saw no reason why he should die." Sandy replied with a stoic look on her face.

"I see. We've been asking around the building and we wanted to ask about your relationship with Arthur Fleck. The neighbors say they've see you get quite close these past few weeks, is that true?" Gordon took the notepad from Johnson, and looked over the notes.

Sandy froze for a second, continuing her stoic face, but with a red tint placed on her cheeks. "I'd say that yes, we've gotten closer. He's very nice to me. He's passionate about his comedy career, and I support him fully."

"Uh-huh." Johnson mumbled. "Did you two have any sexual encounters with each other?"

Sandy blushed madly, taken aback by this information. "That's none of your business." She glared at Johnson, crossing her arms.

"Alright, thank you for your time, Ms. Dolere." Gordon got off the couch, shaking Sandy's hand. Johnson followed behind him.

"Have a good evening, gentlemen." Sandy closed her door. "For sweet hell, it's already evening?" She said to herself, looking outside on the horizon. Sandy looked down at her scarred arm. She stared at it for a good long while, almost as if she was mocking it. Sandy smirked.

"Poor, poor Dennis," She mocked, lighting another cigarette. She heard a loud bang coming from the apartment downstairs. Sandy extinguished the cigarette.

She ran out of her apartment, and pressed the button on the elevator. 'What the fuck?' Sandy's thoughts ran a muck. The elevator slowly closed its doors as Sandy pressed down on Arthur's floor.

She hurried to his apartment door. As Sandy rapidly knocked on the door, she heard Arthur's mother screaming.

"NO, NO. HE'S A GOOD BOY! A HAPPY BOY!!"

Sandy's eyes got wide as she heard the screams. She slammed all her weight into the door, but as it swung open, her head hit the ground.

"Ugh. Fuck." She hissed.

Right in front of her laid Penny Fleck's collapsed body.

"Ms. Dolere, are you alright?" Detective Gordon rushed over to Sandy, while Johnson was tending Penny.

"I'm fine. What about her? Call a god damn ambulance." Sandy pushed the detective out of her way to the phone. She quickly dialed 911.

Arthur saw the scene just as he got home. Everything was a mess. He rushed over to the ambulance. As Arthur got inside the vehicle, he glanced over to Sandy.

Sandy had questions, tons of questions, but she knew that now wasn't the best time for them. She went over to Detective Gordon.

"I need a ride to the hospital." Sandy wasn't asking.

Gordon sighed. "Ok, sure."

He pointed over to a black car, parked on the side of the road.

Sandy sat in the back seat, glaring at the two detectives threw their rear view windows.

As the detectives pulled up to the hospital, Sandy noticed Arthur sitting on a bench outside the hospital, smoking a cigarette.

Sandy got out of the car, but stayed near it to observe the situation.

"Arthur Fleck, I'm Detective Gordon, and this is my partner, Detective Johnson. We wanted to ask you a few questions, but you weren't home, so we asked your mother." Detective Gordon said.

Arthur looked up at him, scornfully. "Did you do this?" Arthur asked, griping tightly on his cigarette.

"Oh no, you see she was hyperventilating and acting all hysterical." Detective Johnson interjected.

"Yeah, the doctors said she had a stroke." Arthur said, bluntly.

"We're sorry to hear that," Gordon mumbled. "We still would like to ask a few questions about the subway killings. Have you heard of them?"

Sandy watched in the distance the whole thing play out. Of course, Arthur had a lot of stuff on his plate and these detectives weren't making matters better.

"Yeah, they're awful." Arthur muttered.

"Well, we talked to your boss from your old job. He says you were fired for bringing a gun in the children's hospital." Gordon stated.

"It was a prop. I'm a party clown." Arthur said, annoyed.

"Oh, yeah? Then why were you fired?" Detective Johnson asked.

"They said I wasn't funny enough. Can you imagine that?" Arthur scoffed. He got off the bench.

"Your boss gave us this card. This condition of yours. Is it real? Or is it a clown thing?"

"A clown thing?" Arthur repeated. He tossed the cigarette to the ground. "What do you think?"

Arthur ran into the hospital door.

The two detectives walked away.

"Hey." Sandy called.

Arthur turned to Sandy. He smiled gently at her. His blue/green eyes full of admiration.

"Hey." Arthur called back to her.

"You do know it says 'Exit' on it." Sandy pointed to the letters above the door.

"Yeah." Arthur hesitantly held onto Sandy's hand as they walked into the hospital.

#fanfic #joker arthur fleck #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x oc #arthur fleck x reader #joker film #joker 2019 #joker x reader #joker movie #joker x oc