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penny00dreadful · 9 months

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Somebody To Love - Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 AO3

*Professor Farnsworth voice* Good news everyone! It is finished! There'll be one more part after this, I didn't need as many parts/chapters as I originally thought becasue I figured why can't I just have a high word count here? 😅 I should be able to have the final part out soon once I've completed the edits. 🥳🖤

Some tw's for this part: addict thoughts, talks of dieting, addiction recovery.

The delicacy with which Dustin and Max were handling him made Eddie feel like he’d been thrown into an alternate reality. They had the kid gloves on, treating him with so much care, like he was a temperamental ornament ready to shatter at any moment and honestly, he kind of appreciated it.

People often took one look at him and just assumed he was a tough as nails metalhead drug addict that would spit at them sooner than look at them and like… sometimes they weren’t that far off.

But he was still human with an infuriatingly soft core and that core was feeling very bruised right now.

He didn’t know exactly what they knew of everything, they were obviously much closer to Steve than they were to him, but he wasn’t really sure how close.

Still, it was nice that they weren’t automatically treating him like dirt for breaking Steve’s heart and then clumsily attempting to sellotape it back together with promises of proving it to him. Maybe that was Steve’s doing. Or maybe they were just more emotionally intelligent than he’d given them credit for.

Chrissy, however, had no such compunctions.

She waltzed into his house at ass o’clock in the morning and shoved a to-go coffee into his hands, knowing well he hadn’t slept a wink, she had been the one up with him on the phone for half the night after all.

“C’mon, Twinkie!” She slapped his ass hard. Way harder than was necessary, in his opinion. “Now’s not a time for moping, now’s a time for action!”

Eddie scowled at her and took a sip before coughing it up and shooting coffee straight out of his nose.

“Jesus fuck!” He gulped back air, barely able to get the words out through the scratching at his throat. “How many espresso shots are in this?!”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.” Chrissy dismissed with a wave of her hand.

He had barely managed to get his breath back, standing in the middle of his house in just his ratty old Dragon Ball Z boxers with coffee dripping down his chest when his front door was thrown open with a bang and more people descended on him.

“What the fuck are you guys doing here?”

The Corroded Coffin boys strolled through his house, immediately descending on his kitchen and raiding his cabinets for whatever food Steve constantly kept his house stocked with.

“We heard you finally got your head out of your ass.” Jeff replied, through a mouthful of Honeycombs.

“Hey! Those are mine- Wait. You knew?”

“Dude, everyone knew.” Grant had commandeered his chocolate Yoo-Hoo, cracking the lid off easily.

Eddie felt his stomach drop. “Everyone?”

“Everyone.” Gareth emphasised, knowing exactly whose wrath Eddie was now fearing.

“Shit. Does he know? What happened yesterday?”

Chrissy nodded. “I called him. He’s in the air.”

“You fucking traitor!” He shouted, pointing his finger at her. “He’s going to kill me!”

She just waved her hand at him. “Go get dressed. We’ve got work to do.”

Eddie mumbled and grumbled but did as he was told, knocking back the rest of the poisonous coffee she had provided him. When he arrived back downstairs it was like walking into the middle of an intervention, even though he had started the process himself.

He was going to get off the drugs, he was going to stop drinking. He was no longer going to be sleeping around, obviously, but he was also going to go to a private medical clinic for a number of tests. Just to make sure he hadn’t picked anything up in between previous testing. He was going to keep smoking, because god-damn it he needed something.

The rest of that day was spent with Dustin, Chrissy and the Corroded Coffin boys scraping through every square inch of his house, searching for his various stashes of drugs and alcohol while Max watched him like a hawk.

Chrissy pulled away some pills taped to the bottom of a decorative pot that sat on top of one of his upper cabinets and Eddie was pretty sure he’d never seen that pot in his life before. Never even looked at it, let alone hid shit using it. It was the ugliest fucking pot he’d ever seen, why was it in his house? Honestly he’d forgotten half the places they pulled a handle of vodka or a baggie of powder out of.

He wasn’t an addict, he didn’t consider himself an addict but he just used them more as an aid to get him through the day. He wasn’t an addict.

He used them because he wanted to, not because he needed to.

Except.

Except now that he was faced with the reality that there’d be none of it left in the house, and he’d be monitored very closely by all of them so he couldn’t break and go out and get a fix… it had his anxiety skyrocketing through the roof and he almost asked them to stop multiple times.

But each time he did, he remembered the defeat and heartbreak on Steve’s face and he… he just had to keep pushing forward.

As they went from room to room, Max seemed to have some kind of sixth sense. Sitting there in her tailored business suit, red hair in a high pony, leaning over towards him with her elbows on her knees. Whenever he knew where something was stashed and the guys skimmed over it or missed it, she called out to them, telling them to look again without taking her eyes off him.

“How the hell are you doing that?” He asked.

“I had a troubled upbringing.” Max replied with a flat tone of voice.

They’d been at it for hours by the time he called for a fucking breather. All of this was exhausting. The stress was eating at his stomach. Eddie was in his back garden, trying to chill the fuck out with a cigarette when he heard the door open behind him.

“Boy.” The voice that came from behind him was heavy and stern, like Eddie’s own personal Kratos had descended and Eddie froze like a rabbit caught in a trap.

He turned slowly, hoping that someone else, anyone else was around to help take the pressure off but they all seemed to have scattered, the cowards.

“Wayne!” He tried to inject as much joy and lightness into his voice as he got to his feet but the man just continued to stare down at him with a raised eyebrow and his arms crossed, towering over him like a monument of parental disappointment.

Quick as a flash Wayne’s hand shot out and slapped him over the back of the head, not too hard, but hard enough to let Eddie know he wasn’t happy, as if that had ever been in doubt. “What did you do to that young man?”

“You can’t hit me! I’m in recovery!”

Wayne slapped him again.

“I’m fixing it!”

“You better be. I like that Steve kid. He’s good for you.”

Eddie slumped, dropping his cigarette butt on the ground and trudging over to his uncle, pressing his forehead into his collarbone. “I know.”

Wayne nodded and pulled him in close for a hug.

“I’m fixing it.” Eddie said again, quieter this time.

“Good.” Wayne rubbed his hand up and down Eddie back before pulling away. “We’ll get this sorted.” He placed his hands on either side of Eddie’s face and gave him a light squeeze. “Now pick up that butt, I didn’t teach you to litter.”

For all his whining and grumbling and absolute terror of the man, it was a big help having Wayne around. Of course it was, how could it not be. Though he’d never doubted Wayne for a second, facing up to the consequences of his actions had never been something Eddie was particularly eager to do.

Case in point, involving Chrissy was maybe a mistake.

Because she was, like, sporty and shit. And she kept dragging him out of bed in the early hours of the morning once the worst of everything was out of his system.

She’d force him into the gym room that came with the house and Eddie was pretty sure he’d never set foot in it before. But all the stuff there had clear signs of being used regularly and it was with a strange mix of sadness and glee that he figured Steve had probably been the one using it all along.

“Why am I here?”

“To get some endorphins into you without using drugs.”

Soulmate his fucking ass.

Chrissy was no less than a drill sergeant and no amount of whining and bitching would stop her from making him do stretches and get on the treadmill and god he fucking hated it. Any one who enjoyed exercising was now solidly listed under ‘psychopath’ in his brain.

Chrissy had even convinced Max to get her husband, some kind of sports health something or other, to put together a meal plan for him that had him eating shit like broccoli and apples and brown fucking rice.

Eddie did not throw a temper tantrum by day five of that diet, about a week and a half into this whole ‘getting his shit together so he could prove to Steve he was a competent human’ thing. Definitely not, even though his muscles ached and he wanted to stuff an entire Dunkin worth of Donuts into his mouth and get stupidly ridiculously high.

“Fuck off and leave me alone, Chrissy.” He snapped one morning from underneath his bedsheets. He was fucking tired, he was fucking sore and last he checked sugar wasn’t one of the addictions he was supposed to be giving up so why the fuck wasn’t he allowed to have any?

Chrissy crossed her arms. “No.”

“What’s even the point of this anyway? How the hell is the fucking broccoli and the fucking treadmill proving to Steve that I’m gonna stick around?”

“Because you’re improving yourself, taking care of yourself. Staying away from the drugs and alcohol and sex orgies and showing him you’re trying.” She sighed, softening her voice. “Didn’t you tell him you’d try every day for him?”

“Whatever.” Eddie grumbled, pulling the covers up over his head. “It’s a bed day. I’m staying in bed. Don’t try to drag me out, I will bite you.”

He could hear Chrissy leave and he knew the attitude was unnecessary, she was his rock in all of this, but he just wasn’t in the fucking mood to do anything apart from wallow.

He had dozed back off to sleep until he was awoken by someone coming up the stairs. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a tall handsome man with fantastic shoulders standing in his doorway with a box of fucking donuts in his hand.

What kind of sugar-craving wet dream was this?

The guy lifted his hand with a pleasant smile. “Hey-”

“Sorry, man. I’m off the market.” Eddie slurred in some kind of delirious half-asleep haze before his brain finally caught up with him and he realised that’s probably not what was happening right now.

The guy burst out in a short laugh. “Yeah, me too. I’m Max’s husband, Lucas.”

Eddie’s entire face went scarlet. “Oh fuck, don’t tell her I said that. She’ll cut my balls off.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He said with an easy smile as he held the box out and shook it slightly. “I brought these for you.”

Lucas handed the donuts to him and even though Eddie should be wary of the quite literal candy from a stranger (although, was candy really the correct term?), the allure of fried sugar was too much.

“Aren’t you supposed to be having me eat healthy?” Eddie asked, practically diving face first into the box and stuffing as much as he could into his mouth at once. “Minoththuppothsbeowmaheawthmfifthnssjurmy?”

Lucas blinked at him and Eddie forced himself to swallow the large lump of fried dough, but not without sucking on his fingers first. “Am I not supposed to be on a health and fitness journey? Or whatever you,” he wiggled his fingers at him, “active types call it.”

"Don’t get me wrong, you still need to eat right and exercise but the meal plans I write up are usually for athletes at the top of their game. So the fact that sugar and some fats never made it in just never occurred to me. And no offence to you dude, but you are no athlete.” He smiled and tapped the box. “Everything in moderation, right?”

Things began to even out after that. The boys started to travel between Eddie’s house and their own homes, checking in on him less and less the better he got. Finally getting to spend some well deserved time with their families rather than babysitting their problematic frontman.

Wayne still stuck around. Eddie’s literal rock in everything he’d ever done in his life ever and Chrissy was no longer riding him so hard about getting the endorphins pumping.

Honestly video games could do the same thing for him but she refused to accept that.

When Steve walked back through his front door some two weeks after he’d left for a second time, he took Eddie by surprise all over again, manifesting behind him like some kind of ghost and scaring the ever loving shit out of him.

But he didn’t throw himself at Steve this time.

He didn’t have that right anymore.

The ball was in Steve’s court and he would be the one that would decide just how fast they moved from now on.

He noticed the difference in Eddie almost immediately because of course he did. Telling him off hand that he looked good, healthy. That he hadn’t looked like that since their second studio album blew up, which caused Eddie to blush furiously and hide his face behind his hair like a fucking schoolgirl and not someone who had appeared in fucking ‘Playgirl’, which he had.

Usually in his down time he would have been spending it hanging out with Steve and his weird little found family. And with Wayne, flying in between LA and Indiana and getting to remember what it felt like to just be a normal person again.

But it had also been the time Eddie would let loose and go hard into everything could. The kinds of things he couldn’t manage when on tour.

Days long sex parties, kink clubs, high quality drug dens, week long getaways to someone’s private island or luxury yacht that probably collectively took ten years off his life every time he went.

But they were a thing of the past now.

Eddie found he was kind of enjoying the slower summer getting clean afforded him. He’d started to enjoy the things he used to love so much, but lost over time.

Reading, losing himself in a writing haze, feeling the frantic passion of ideas and creativity overtaking him, and all with a clear head this time.

Days spent in his basement studio no longer fueled by cocaine and other stimulants, now only fueled by caffeine.

Before, he’d be able to go a couple of days awake in his writing haze but caffeine was no substitute for coke.

As a result of that, being under the influence of only caffeine, sugar and nicotine he usually ended up crashing on the couch down there before he even realised he was falling asleep. Sometimes he’d wake up with handwritten pages stuck to his cheek or forehead, sometimes he’d wake up with the mother of all back aches and stiff fingers. But sometimes he’d wake up with a blanket thrown over him, the ghost of a hand in his hair and a strawberry frappuccino waiting for him on the coffee table.

The downside of being lucid and sober was that Eddie was now painfully aware of his shithead behaviour over the last number of years and it constantly threatened to push him back into a spiral again.

He was actually mentally present for the first time in he didn’t know how long for a meeting with the label executives to discuss a timeline for the next album and tour. He had no idea just how much Steve had been doing for him, especially when it came to this.

Making decisions on his behalf that always benefited him far more than anything he’d have been able to negotiate himself, making excuses for why he was so out of it all the time that everyone could see through. But the execs always let it go because Corroded Coffin were one of the labels biggest bands, on of their biggest money earners and continued to be, no matter how fucked up Eddie was.

And it wasn't just meetings with execs he now had to deal with. The people refused to get the god-damn memo. The invites to all the debauched shit he usually took part in just kept coming and people actually started getting defensive whenever he refused.

No matter what he told them.

He told them he didn’t want to go. He was healing. He was off the shit that would be shared around like pass the parcel. They were down right offended to hear it. Like Eddie was somehow telling them all he was better than them by holding up a mirror towards their own actions which… maybe, yeah actually.

The only invite he had accepted was a charity fundraiser for queer homeless youth. But only with a firm stance that he would not be going to any kind of after party, so don’t even bother asking.

But it would be fine.

There’d be alcohol and probably some drugs and probably some people trying to get into his pants there but Chrissy and Steve would also be there, all but chained to his side. Gareth, Jeff and Grant would be taking up the mantle of schmoozing so it would be fine.

Plus, he was close to hitting his ninety days so he was definitely stronger than he had been at the start, right?

Yeah.

Either way, the alcohol, the drugs, the horny people… it would be the kind of shit that would be unavoidable in his line of work. So he’d have to get used to temptation being thrown in his face regardless and this would be a nice entry level experiment.

“You sure you want to do this?” Steve asked him, with an arm around his shoulder.

The return to normal touch had been gradual, happening over the last few months and it was doing wonderful things for his nerves right now. The three of them were sitting in the back of the big fancy car, stalling.

Steve flashed him a cheeky grin. “We can leave and head to the McDonalds drive-thru right now if you want.”

Eddie smiled and stopped twisting his rings around his fingers. This was an overly fancy event, probably requiring white gloves as part of the dress code but Eddie wasn’t going to start worrying about expectations like that now.

They knew who they’d invited.

“I’m fine. It’s fine.” He tipped his head over until he was leaning against Steve’s shoulder and laced his fingers with Chrissy’s gloved hand. “Let’s just get this over with. Maybe we can leave before I turn back into a pumpkin, though?”

Steve smiled. “Sure thing.” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of Eddie’s head and smoothly exited the car.

It was definitely not the most intimate thing they’d ever done together in their decade long friendship but definitely the most intimate thing that they’d done in the last three months and Eddie’s stomach exploded with butterflies.

“Cinderella doesn’t turn back into a pumpkin at midnight.” Chrissy said, shaking out her large pale pink dress as she stepped out of the car after Eddie. “Are you calling yourself the carriage?”

“Yeah.” He offered her his elbow. “I have plenty of carriage.”

“Twinkie,” she shook her head, “you have no carriage. It’s a tiny little fuzzy peach butt.”

“Excuse you, it’s a pumpkin!”

She rolled her eyes and gave his ass a little pinch out of view of anyone. “It is not.”

“It’s really not, Eds.” Steve put in with a not so subtle up-and-down look.

“This is a betrayal of the highest order,” he pointed at them, “and the both of you are terrible people.”

Overall, things went pretty well.

He didn’t really have to talk to anyone, the Corroded Coffin boys as previously discussed between them, were dealing with the majority of boring ass rich people conversation and Steve had enough experience from his upbringing with his parents to deflect the most persistent of wannabe schmoozers. Eddie had been sticking only to mocktails (his favourite would always be a Shirley Temple but they had some strawberry thing which was essentially just strawberry limeade but it was fucking delicious so who gave a fuck) and some really nice non-alcoholic champagne that honestly tasted better than the regular champagne without the tang of alcohol in it.

Steve had to lead someone away, almost with a hand at their elbow when they just kept pushing for conversation. Chrissy was in a gentle discussion with a new young artist who looked like she was about to vibrate out of her skin from fear. And Eddie felt a shadow descend into the chair next to him.

He turned, still trying to suck the last dregs of his Shirley Temple out of the bottom of his glass.

The guy who sat down looked vaguely familiar, in that kind of memory signal way. His subconscious definitely knew they’d crossed paths before but that could mean anything. Maybe he’d collaborated with him in the past? Maybe he was an old supplier? Maybe he’d slept with him, who knew?

“Hi!” The guy said with a smile and dark bedroom eyes.

Well, okay.

He slid a drink towards him, cold and beading with condensation and the most beautiful amber colour.

Eddie swallowed, unable to take his eyes off of it. He picked up the edge of the white tablecloth, using it to push the drink away. He didn’t even want to risk touching it.

“I’m clean.” Eddie pretty firmly kept the now empty Shirley Temple glass up, still sucking the straw around the bottom, trying to keep a barrier between them because no thank you. Not tonight. Not ever, anymore, if life worked out the way he wanted.

The guy nodded and smiled again, a little condescending, as though Eddie’s attempt to stay sober was cute. “I've been watching you. Trying to find an opportunity to say hi.” He scoffed lightly with a raised eyebrow. An attempt at an inside joke only one of them was in on. “Your bodyguard’s got a pretty tight grip on you though. Glad he finally gave you a chance to breathe.”

“Steve’s not my bodyguard.”

Even though he could be. Has definitely had to act like it before. More than once.

God, Eddie was a shit.

“No? He’s certainly acting like it. Won’t let anyone near you. Seems a little possessive if you ask me.” The guy scooted a little further forward and started brushing his leg up and down Eddie’s calf and Eddie retracted almost immediately.

“That’s going to be a solid no from me. I’m off the market for the foreseeable future.”

The guy couldn’t hide his surprise quickly enough. “Seriously? Someone get in your head about it?” The corner of his mouth tilted up in a smug grin. “Couldn’t stop thinking of a particular night? I couldn’t stop thinking of it either. I heard you stopped making the rounds after.”

Eddie could do nothing but blink at the absolute balls on this guy. But apparently this was a one sided conversation because the guy was still talking.

“I was hoping you’d call me again.” He attempted to nudge Eddie’s knee with his hand but Eddie pulled back again with a hard glare. The guy scoffed again. “Unless, of course, your phone privileges have been taken away by the help.” He laughed at his own pathetic, mean excuse for a joke. “I think we could be quite good together, Eddie.”

“I don’t fucking think so.”

The guy pushed out his bottom lip and batted his big eyelashes at him, like Eddie’s rejection was performative, like he was playing hard to get. “Awh. That’s too bad. You marked me up so good last time.”

It was only then that it finally clicked for him. “You’re the guy from the ‘Sucker’ video.”

The guy's bravado faltered, clearly not expecting to be forgotten so easily.

“Obviously.” He bit out.

He was the last guy Eddie had slept with before everything had happened.

Steve had shown him out and left on his vacation almost immediately after.

He’d been so upset.

“What the fuck did you say to him?” Eddie hissed, finally setting his glass down.

The guy blinked with a curl at his lip. “Who?”

“Steve.”

“Oh, him?” The guy laughed, short and sharp and mean. “Not my fault if he wasn’t ready to hear some harsh truths.” He shrugged. “I didn’t tell him anything he didn’t deserve to hear. Practically did you a favour, by the way.” The guy rolled his eyes. “Just had to get it in his head that he didn’t have a shot, shooting above his pay grade and if he couldn’t handle it he should take a long walk off a short pier. Even if you did let him weasel his way back in-”

There was something shoved hard into Eddie’s chest and he only had a second to register what was happening before he had to catch Chrissy around the waist and pull her back to stop her clawing this guy's eyes out.

The purse she’d pushed at him fell to the floor as Eddie was jerked forward, using his all of his weak as shit strength to keep a firm grip on Chrissy who was always so strong with her hidden jock prowess.

“Jesus Christ, put a leash on her, would you?” The guy had fired himself backwards, nearly toppling himself out of his seat.

“You motherf-! Edward, let me go!” Chrissy was swiping at the guy with one arm while the other dug into Eddie’s arm, trying to loosen his grip.

Before he could consider whether the spectacle of Chrissy Cunningham in her pink meringue dress absolutely wrecking this guys shit would be worth the entertainment enough to let her free, a wall of bodies planted themselves firmly in her way.

“I think it’s time we head out, don’t you?” Jeff asked leaning back, trying to avoid Chrissy’s hands.

“Yeah,” Eddie huffed. Jesus this girl was strong. “Yeah, maybe!”

The four of them were able to manhandle Chrissy, who was still spitting and cursing, shooing her out of the front door. Eddie glanced back and saw Steve leaning down towards the guy with the sharpest smile he’d ever seen, muttering into his ear ‘He doesn’t even remember your name’ before turning and following the five of them out.

There was silence between the six of them outside, save for the sound of Chrissy’s heavy breathing, as they waited for the car to come around.

They all bundled themselves inside and once the door slammed shut Eddie exploded.

“Okay, what the hell?”

The boys were looking at him with wary expressions, Chrissy was wide eyed and a little flushed and Steve just cocked an eyebrow, well used to Eddie’s tantrums after so long. But that wasn’t what this was.

“Him? Him? I slept with him? He’s not even cute, why the hell didn’t anyone stop me?!” He pointed at each of them in turn, not even bothering to skip out Steve, the fucker would only tease him about it later.

The car started moving and Eddie took a second to send a silent apology to the very nice chauffeur, Marlon, who really shouldn’t have to be dealing with their nonsense.

“Twinkie,” Chrissy huffed, ripping her white opera gloves off, “the amount of times I have tried to slap the dick out of your hand and get you to listen to me-”

Eddie squealed, high and outraged. But he couldn’t even stay mad because Steve was doubled over cackling like a witch on her broomstick and the boys were poking fun at him while literally poking him in the sides and all he could do was slump down in his seat and pout at them with crossed arms.

They did end up going through the McDonalds drive-thru after all.

So... y'all wanna see Eddie's Playgirl cover? 👀 (minors dni)

That magnificent artwork was done by the supremely talented @sporelium and I am in fucking awe of him, like holy shit. I saw it when it was originally posted and I have not been able to stop thinking about it. Thank you so much for letting me reference it here. 😘🖤

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 AO3

@lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring, @child-of-cthulhu, @sweetwaterangel, @anaibis, @katytheinspiredworkaholic, @littlewildflowerkitten, @hallucinatedjosten, @estrellami-1, @gregre369, @stxrcrossed186, @novelnovella, @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme, @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere, @thesuninyaface, @messrs-weasley

#steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #eddie x steve #fanfic #steddie fic #penny00dreadful #stranger things fic #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar eddie #personal assistant steve #personal assistant steve harrington #modern au #somebody to love

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marshmallowprotection · 3 months

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Kait, do you think GE Saeran would have to deal with drug withdrawal effect during the period between his Good Ending and After Ending? It's highly likely, right? I want nothing more than to be by his side and comfort him during those times :(

Unfortunately, yes.

It's not sunshine and roses when it comes to somebody weaning themself off of the kind of drug he was taking. It was a combination cocktail of all sorts of drugs. The solution that makes up the Elixir is never quite the same each time, and the concentrations can be very different.

As far as I know, everything that's in there is bad for you. The Secret Ending tells us a few of the known ingredients but even the doctors are stumped on EVERYTHING that's in it. I've talked about about how he has to be going through a lot of painful symptoms but the game glosses over it because nobody really likes to talk about that kind of stuff. It's not pretty.

Not only that, but it's hard for people to open up about these particular issues since this is stigmatized no matter if somebody is in recovery or not. A good chunk of his time in the hospital has more to do with his physical symptoms than anything else. That is the case for many victims of Mint Eye. The mental duress and exhaustion are going to take a long time to heal, but as for the physical symptoms, some of those issues can be remedied in the meantime.

It's a mess of migraines, exhaustion, irritability, dehydration, and many other physical and mental symptoms that can differ person to person and substance to substance.

Saeran is going to be dealing with this for a while. Even after he's out of the hospital, I can't see him being comfortable taking any kind of medication outside of something for his migraines. Why in the world would he ever be trustful of medication ever again after he spent so much of his life being forced to take the elixir? Ray called it medicine at one point, you know?

He may not have been taking it for as long as SE Saeran did, but it doesn’t change the fact that he was suffering with the elixir for nearly an entire year.

He mentions once in the after-ending that he has medication he needs to take, and I imagine that offhand comment has a little bit to do with his recovery process. He takes medicine for migraines, that we know, but given that it’s been nearly a month and some change since we escaped Mint Eye, he’s had time to go to a doctor. Hell, I’m certain Jumin had not only helped him get a doctor, but get his proper government documentation as well.

So, he is getting the help he needs for his health, but there's only so much they can do for his sake. They can make sure he has the medication he needs to lessen the severity of what he's going through, but it's not going to stop it 100%. He's going to have good days and bad days going forward, and sometimes there will be an itch he just can't scratch.

If you can do anything for him, you should make sure you have your hand ready for him to hold whatever he feels that ungodly feeling that tells him he needs some kind of elixir to make the pain go away. Even though he said he knew he didn't need to take it anymore, it doesn't change his body's response to no longer taking it. He went off of it cold turkey, and I can't imagine it made him feel good in the days following the aftermath.

Worst case scenario, he keeps up a brave face in front of everybody as you all work together to find his brother, but the minute the two of you are alone, that's when he breaks down and shows you just how bad he feels. It might take a few days for the pain to kick in, but it'll get there, and you'll have to help him talk about… the elixir and what Mint Eye did to him. He may not talk about Rika or V, but he’ll have to tell them why he physically can’t work.

#princessjung #mod kait #mystic messenger #ask #anon #mysme #saeran choi #mm #mysticmessenger #choi saeran #character analysis #ge saeran #saeray #saeran

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blue-sterling0357 · 1 year

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Hi! Can I get Agni and Baldroy with a hypermobile fem s/o with knee problems? I hope this is cool.

(I enjoyed this, apologizes if it's wrong..)

Agni and Baldroy X Reader with hypermobility

Bardroy

✜ He wished to be as flexible as you, he even tried to understand how to be flexible but to no avail, he can't be and that's a hate crime according to him....

✜ He is actually quite surprised that you're this flexible naturally, he is quite worried about your knees though, you have told him how your knees ache horribly, so he helps you by massaging your legs when he's free, he's happy to do so.

✜ If it's possible he tries to limit huge leg movement for you as to stop you from making a lot of leg movement could cause your legs to dislocate most likely your knees could dislocate and so it hurts and when your legs hurt you whine and he's upset about it as well.

✜ He also carries you on stairs because as you have stated a few times, you legs hurt when you go up or down and he doesn't want you to experience that so often while helping the servants.

✜ He often takes you on walks as walks are said to help hypermobile people reduce stiffness in their joint or dislocations, he also very often runs you warm baths as to help relieve your joint pain.

✜ Whenever you get joint pain or maybe you end up getting a dislocation, the first person he goes to is obviously Sebastian, who tells him how to look after you and how to reduce the pain for a while.

✜ He also heard from Sebastian that swimming and cycling are ideal exercises for people with hypermobility so he takes you swimming nearly everyday very early in the morning or in the evening and takes you cycling everyday as well, or when you both feel like it!

✜ Sometimes you knees also lock up if you're standing too long, so he asks Ciel to make arrangement for you to make sure you don't stand up for too long while working and risk locking up your knees.

✜ He freaks the fuck out of the fact that your skin is very stretchy as well to the point you cover your thumb with the skin on your hand, it's freak him out...

✜ When you did it in-front of him the first time, he though your thumb snapped off your hand and was carrying you while rushing to Ciel and Sebastian, who were equally as scared until you told them that this is very normal for you.

Agni Iyer

✜ Agni is quite familiar with this, mainly because Indian medical research is very large and very deep, so he knows how to handle you a bit.

✜ Agni makes sure you're not extending your knees too far or you're doing very strenuous tasks as to not risk hurting yourself or having horrible joint pains.

✜ He is always very happy to massage your back, legs or arms if your arms, legs or back are paining, he does not mind helping you whenever you need help!

✜ He also runs you warm baths, rubs oil on your body in case of joint pain, takes you on walks or gives you holidays whenever you need due to the fact that you're having horrible joint pains.

✜ Whenever you do very strenuous tasks he gets worried sick, something is gonna happen like you're gonna dislocate some joint and he's not going to be able to help you as if there isn't a literal doctor just a call away...

✜ He always takes you swimming in rivers or lakes whenever you both have the time and maybe cycling nearly everyday to help with your joints because doctor told him these are ideal for a person with a condition like yours.

✜ He takes doctor's advice very seriously like any other Indian would, but maybe a little too seriously...He would honestly stop you from doing anything, basically you're on bedrest most of the time, until somebody reminds him you're capable of doing things and these occurrences are quite rare and

✜ He also learnt form the doctor that your skin is very stretchy, it freaks him out, but it's fine, he finds it funny when you do stuff with you skin...

✜ He and you both do those type of things to test your flexibilities, and you of-course win all the time, it doesn't annoy him, he's happy to have fun with you!

#kuroshitsuji agni #kuroshitsuji #black butler #black butler headcanons #black butler anime #black butler x reader #black butler x y/n #black butler x you #black butler x gn reader #black butler agni #black butler bardroy #bard kuroshitsuji #black butler bard #kuroshitsuji bard #bardroy x reader #agni x reader #black butler fanfiction

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viviennelamb · 2 months

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Feels good to say the Truth: Purity makes living in this shithole worth it. All the pointless psychology, personality typing, and horoscopes I learned for the world's sake is fake- I can't get along with debauched people. Doesn't matter how much we superficially have in common, there's nothing to say to people who have worms for brains. All their medical theories are wrong as well. I've attributed the headaches, nausea, restlessness of the heart and mind my body got around ordinary people as a personal problem, turns out those are symptoms of being fucking disgusted. I don't have to be around yeasty beasties talking about their deplorable conditions being "normal sexual health problems" anymore. Proud about their rank pussies & dicks being heterosexually active while growing 1 billion cultures in their body. Makes sense why I feel best when I'm alone while they feel calmer around me.

I wanted to be problem so I could fix myself which I tried for at least 10 years, but no, most people make me sick. I've only felt good around one person in my life. I told her I thought she was perfect and I couldn't put my finger on exactly why. She humbly denied it, of course, but now I know: her heart was pure. The poor girl was exhausted, drained and smiled weakly around her so-called friends who would use and discard her every chance they got. I would get glimpses into what she really thought cause she knew I wasn't heartless like everybody else and her covert expressions of disgust were hilarious. She would get the socially anxious label when she definitely was not that. Sex-addicts don't know the difference between a person who is insecure and somebody who knows your fragile yet aggressive anger-issue-having asses can't handle a proton of honesty. It's not shyness, it's not wanting our gorgeous minds to get raped by your foul opinions.

Speaking of opinions, I was always called stuck up. When I used to try to help trolls in person they got angry when I implied that they should give cleanliness a try before they run to get put on dope by anti-health white-coated soul-butchers. People like the idea of a spotless mind but when you actually apply it to your life they're ready to diagnose you with one of their delusions. I've always been sane and sound of mind: I don't want to objectify women, I don't want to "loosen up" and I don't want to forget God. I'm more relaxed than anybody I know: I've never worried about not having enough sex, whether I'm attractive enough for the billions of degenerates nor have I ever worried about amazing a stupid psychopath.

I stopped talking for a few years altogether (which were some of the best years of my life, looking back...) because everything I said was wrong or dismissed but of course, they could spew their psychic sewage in my presence without a single fuck about how I felt. I'm sick of bigoted blokes bullying people for their race, gender, sexual orientation when they all engage in the same noxious filth and hate purity just the same. I'm not self-immolating for whores anymore. The 20 minutes of depression afterwards isn't worth it and I've heard it all anyways. Sexophiles lament about the dangers of being in echo chambers yet they can't see how they all repeat the same shit like clockwork. They're all so fucking impressed with themselves too.

I've reached my capacity for depravity: no, lapping up discharge isn't the fountain of life and guzzling semen doesn't repair DNA, shiteaters. I thought this level of immaturity would change as I got older, but it's just fucking ridiculous how many lazy pieces of shit make up theories to brainwash themselves into thinking eating pussy and sucking dick is the point of life. And what really gets me is they think eating the "correct" race of dick makes them superior. Why the fuck do they talk so much anyways? They should be too busy choking on it. I thought I would at least be able to laugh at them at this point but they're boring, unfunny, psychotic losers who can't even wipe their asses properly because of their BBLs and acrylic nails. I'm not a tolerant person and glad I can finally admit that. Stay sick.

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wowbright · 2 months

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Today was soooo stressful.

There were also moments of non stress.

Went birding with my old people. My friend X is one of the first people I met when I moved out here and spouse refers to him as "yo boy," a recognition of high friendship status in our household. Probably the most outgoing and friendly among the birding crowd around here. He's in his 80s now and started having in the past few years what the doctors diagnosed as seizures. He's on anti-seizure meds and he's losing sight in one of his eyes. He says his memory (mostly in the recall of facts) isn't what it used to be. He wonders if he's getting dementia but that hasn't been diagnosed and I kind of think (not a medical diagnosis) it's more likely to be depression. He's been pretty glum lately, really is not adapting well to the changes in his body and feels very limited by them, it doesn't feel like he can engage in most of his hobbies anymore. He can't drive anymore either because of his vision, his wife taxes him most places. He mostly goes birding for the social aspect, though he does seem to enjoy the easy finds like the larger water birds. (His vision issues make looking through binoculars hit or miss and he has given up on wearing his hearing aids when birding.) He said he recently went into the doctors for a rash, took one of those wellness surveys during the intake, and the first thing the doctor wanted to talk about was not about the rash but whether or not he had any guns in his house. (He doesn't.) He tells me he's not suicidal and doesn't have a suicide plan, but over the past few months he's expressed more than once that maybe he would be okay with dying already. I listen, and then he tells me a terrible birding joke.

He does get excited over the number of songbirds and ducks we see today. I am pretty happy with our sightings too. Canvasbacks!

I run some errands and on the way back in a 40 mile an hour zone with nowhere to pull off, my car starts acting wild. First thing I notice is that the defroster stops working. Then the radio cuts out. That I noticed that the brake light is on, even though the emergency brake is definitely not engaged (I check). I have forgotten where the switch for the hazard light is. The hand on the speedometer is waving wildly between 0 and 40 mph, even though I'm going at a steady speed. I find the hazard light switch, hit it, but nothing happens. I reach an intersection and turn onto a smaller road, but the power steering isn't working so it's a bit of a task, especially when the steering wheel momentarily freezes up completely in the middle of the turn. The car is moving but there's definitely some miscommunications going on between the gas pedal and the engine. I am on a less busy (but still busy) street, my goal is to get down far enough so that somebody turning right around the corner doesn't just hit my car, park in the right lane (there are two lanes in each direction) and turn on the hazards. BUT WAIT THE HAZARDS AREN'T WORKING. So I just keep going and hope I can pull into the next side street. I reach a side street, pull sideways into it. The side street goes uphill and the car does not have enough power to make a complete right turn or to go up that hill, so basically I am parked across one of the lanes. Fortunately it is a dead end street into a shishi residential neighborhood, and it's the middle of the day, so no one is trying to go in or out of it. Call my spouse who doesn't answer, call again, no answer, police officer stops and wants to help push the car to a safer place but that's a no-go. She also mentions that I probably should not sit in the car in case it gets sideswiped. (Oh yeah whoops.) Tow truck shows up after about 10 minutes, and it turns out that this really was a good street to pull into, because I only see one vehicle going in or out the entire time I'm waiting, and it has no issues going around my car.

Well, survived that! The car is back at the apartment along with the groceries that were in the trunk, but it's not going to run until we get it towed *again* to the repair place.

If only the alternator (we're assuming that's the problem) had waited two more months to crap out, because we'll be living in the city by then and could feasibly just not have a car at all. That won't work in the meantime though. Sigh.

#depression mention #firearms mention #car stuff #me

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superdanverstrio · 9 months

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AI MADE

A/N: this is just stories that AI made and i thought were pretty good

I used VEED.IO script generator if anyone wants to know

Last story hadded: 10 august

poison

the request: Reader gets poison during Tony Stark party, she faint Infront of all the avengers, they are all worried about her especially her girlfriend natasha Romanoff

INT. TONY STARK'S LUXURIOUS PENTHOUSE - NIGHT

I find myself in the midst of the most extravagant party I've ever attended. The room is filled with A-list celebrities, politicians, and, of course, the Avengers. Tony Stark knows how to throw a party, and tonight, he's outdone himself. The energy in the room is electric, a cacophony of laughter and awe-inspiring conversations.

I spot Natasha Romanoff, my beautiful girlfriend, across the room. She stands out among the crowd with her elegance and grace. I make my way through the sea of people, eager to reach her side.

As I approach Natasha, I can't help but notice her concerned expression. She takes my hand, her touch reassuring.

NATASHA ROMANOFF (whispering) Are you feeling okay, love? You don't look too well.

I try to brush off her concerns, not wanting to dampen the mood of this incredible event.

ME (smiling weakly) I'm fine, just a bit tired. Must be the excitement of the party.

But as I continue talking, a sudden wave of dizziness crashes over me. The room starts spinning, and I fight to maintain my balance. Panic sets in, and I grab onto Natasha for support.

NATASHA ROMANOFF (concerned) What's happening? Steve! Tony! Help!

The Avengers, with their enhanced senses, immediately notice my distress.

Steve Rogers and Tony Stark rush to my side, concern etched on their faces.

STEVE ROGERS (supportive) Hang in there. We'll get you some help.

As I struggle to stay upright, Natasha calls for medical assistance.

The room falls into a stunned silence as everyone begins to take notice of the commotion. The Avengers surround me, forming a protective circle.

Tony signals for the music to stop, and all eyes turn towards us. The world's mightiest heroes are gathered around a person in need, and the atmosphere in the room changes from one of celebration to genuine concern.

NATASHA ROMANOFF (teary-eyed) Please, somebody, help us!

In the midst of the chaos, I can see the worry in their eyes.

Thor clenches his fists, his strong yet gentle presence giving me hope.

Bruce Banner tries to keep calm, even though I can see his concern bubbling beneath the surface.

Seconds feel like hours as medical personnel finally arrive, rushing to my aid. Natasha refuses to let go of my hand, and the Avengers stand together, ready to fight for me.

VISION (reassuring) Fear not, my friends. Together, we can overcome any challenge. As the medical team treats me, the Avengers stand vigil, refusing to leave my side. Their unity and unwavering support bring tears to my eyes.

From Tony Stark's extravagant party to this unexpected turn of events, the night has taken an unexpected turn. But amidst the chaos, one thing is clear: the bond between the Avengers goes far beyond their superhuman abilities. They are a family, ready to protect and care for each other.

FADE OUT.

kidnapped

the request: reader gets kidnapped and the avengers does there best to find her and when they do find her in the villian's lair she is badly injured and everyone is worried about her espacially her girlfriend natasha romanoff

Title: "The Rescue Mission"

[INTRO]

[Scene: Living room in the Avengers' headquarters. Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, Bruce Banner, and Natasha Romanoff are gathered around a table, looking worried.]

Tony Stark: Okay, team, I just received a distress call. Our friend and teammate, [Reader's name], has been kidnapped by some evil villain.

Steve Rogers: What? We need to save them!

Bruce Banner: We have to act fast. Any idea where they could be?

Natasha Romanoff: (Looking concerned) I've been working on it. The villain's lair is hidden, but I managed to trace some electronic signatures near an abandoned warehouse.

Thor: Fear not, my friends, for we shall bring [Reader's name] back safely!

[TRANSITION]

[Scene: The Avengers assembling in their iconic outfits, ready for action.]

Tony Stark: (Putting on his Iron Man suit) Time for some heroics!

Steve Rogers: (Equipping his shield) Let's bring [Reader's name] home.

Bruce Banner: (Transforming into the Hulk) Hulk is ready.

Natasha Romanoff: (Checking her weapons) We'll save them no matter what it takes.

Thor: (Holding Mjolnir) By the might of Asgard, we shall prevail!

[TRANSITION]

[Scene: The villain's lair, a dark and eerie place. The Avengers fight through henchmen, showcasing their individual powers and teamwork.]

Tony Stark: (Using repulsor beams) Take that!

Steve Rogers: (Dodge and throwing his shield) No one stands in our way!

Bruce Banner: (Smashing through obstacles as the Hulk) Hulk smash!

Natasha Romanoff: (Displaying impressive combat skills) You picked the wrong team to mess with.

Thor: (Summoning lightning, striking enemies down) The power of thunder belongs to me!

[TRANSITION]

[Scene: The Avengers locate [Reader's name] in a dimly lit room, severely injured.]

Steve Rogers: (Rushing over) Oh my God, [Reader's name]!

Tony Stark: (Looking concerned) We need to get them out of here. Bruce, can you assist?

Bruce Banner: (Reverting to his human form) Of course, let me get my first aid kit.

Natasha Romanoff: (Tenderly holding [Reader's name]'s hand) Hang in there, sweetheart. We're getting you home.

[TRANSITION]

[Scene: Avengers' headquarters, [Reader's name] is lying on a medical bed surrounded by the team.]

Tony Stark: The medical team is doing everything they can. They'll be okay.

Steve Rogers: We need some good news. I can't stand seeing them hurt like this.

Natasha Romanoff: (Holding back tears) I can't imagine my life without them. We have to stay strong.

Bruce Banner: They're strong, and they'll make it through this. We just need to be there for them.

Thor: (Placing a hand on Natasha's shoulder) Together, we shall help them recover, and they shall know the love of their family.

[CONCLUSION]

[Scene: Avengers' headquarters, a few days later. The team is gathered around [Reader's name]'s bed, watching them wake up.]

Tony Stark: Welcome back, slugger. We missed you.

Steve Rogers: We were so worried. Never scare us like that again, okay?

Natasha Romanoff: (Gently squeezing their hand) Don't ever leave my side, please.

[Reader's name]: (Weakly smiling) I love you all. Thank you for saving me.

[Scene fades out with the Avengers smiling, relieved that [Reader's name] is safe.]

[OUTRO]

[Closing shot: Avengers' logo with "To be continued..." written underneath] [END]

hidden injury

the request: the reader gets hurt during on of the avengers mission she hides it so she doesnt worry anyone. some how the wound the reader got is infected and at one of tony's party she passes out because of it

Title: The Hidden Wound

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - LIVING ROOM - DAY

I'm sitting in the living room of the Avengers headquarters, surrounded by my teammates. We're all celebrating another successful mission. Everyone is laughing and sharing stories, but I'm struggling to keep up the facade.

You see, during our last mission, I got hurt pretty bad. But I didn't want to worry anyone, so I decided to keep it to myself.

FLASHBACK: INT. ABANDONED WAREHOUSE - NIGHT

I'm fighting alongside the Avengers, giving it my all. In the chaos, I take a blow that sends me crashing into a pile of debris. I feel a sharp pain in my side but quickly regain my composure and pretend everything is fine.

BACK TO PRESENT: INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - LIVING ROOM - DAY

As I reminisce about that fateful mission, I feel a burning sensation in my side. It's been weeks since the injury, and it seemed to be healing fine. But something isn't right.

The pain intensifies, and I try my best to hide my discomfort.

TONY, with a glass of champagne in hand, spots me from across the room.

TONY: Hey there, [Reader's Name], why do you look like you've seen a ghost?

I force a smile, trying to downplay my growing agony.

READER: Oh, Tony, you know me. Just lost in my thoughts.

TONY: Well, snap out of it! It's party time! Let's enjoy ourselves!

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - PARTY ROOM - NIGHT

The room is filled with dazzling lights, music, and laughter. It's one of Tony's legendary parties. But as the night wears on, I can no longer ignore the pain. The room starts to spin, and my knees feel like jelly.

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - PARTY ROOM - NIGHT - LATER

I stumble towards a wall, trying to steady myself. The pain becomes unbearable, and everything goes black.

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY

I wake up in a sterile hospital room, surrounded by familiar faces - my fellow Avengers, worried sick.

STEVE, dressed in his Captain America suit, steps forward.

STEVE: You scared us, [Reader's Name]. Why didn't you tell us about your injury?

I sheepishly look down, feeling guilty for keeping my pain hidden.

READER: I didn't want to be a burden, or worry any of you. I thought it would heal on its own.

TONY, leaning against the wall with crossed arms, chimes in.

TONY: Sometimes we need to rely on each other, even when we're superheroes. You're part of this team, and that means we're here for you.

NATASHA, the Black Widow, nods in agreement.

NATASHA: So next time, let us know when you're hurt. Besides, healing is what we do best.

Everyone smiles, reassured that our bond as Avengers is unbreakable.

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - LIVING ROOM - DAY - WEEKS LATER

I'm back in the living room, but this time, I'm surrounded by my teammates as we share stories from our latest mission. This time, I'm not hiding any pain or discomfort. We've all learned the importance of open communication and relying on one another. As I join in on the laughter, I can't help but feel grateful for being part of this extraordinary team. The Avengers have become my second family, teaching me that we're stronger when we support each other, both on and off the battlefield. FADE OUT.

second story

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - LIVING ROOM - DAY

[Camera pans across Avengers gathered in the living room, chatting and laughing. I, the reader, am sitting on the couch, trying to hide the discomfort caused by a recent injury.]

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - KITCHEN - LATER

[Camera switches to the kitchen, where I'm rummaging through the medicine cabinet. Tony Stark enters, holding a glass of champagne.]

TONY STARK

Hey, [Reader], everything okay? You seem a little off today.

I force a smile, attempting to downplay my situation.

Yeah, Tony, I'm fine. Just a little sore from the last mission, that's all.

Tony's eyes narrow, clearly unconvinced, but he decides not to push further.

TONY STARK

Alright, if you say so. But do me a favor and take it easy tonight, alright? We've all earned a break.

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - PARTY AREA - NIGHT

[Camera transitions to the party area, filled with Avengers and various guests. Music is blaring, and everyone is enjoying themselves. I stand by the bar, nursing a non-alcoholic drink.]

STEVE ROGERS

(leaning over from the bar) Hey, [Reader], why aren't you joining us for a drink?

(smiling weakly) Not feeling it tonight, Steve. Got a lot on my mind.

Steve looks concerned but respects my privacy.

STEVE ROGERS

Alright, just remember we're here for you if you need anything.

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - PARTY AREA - LATER

[Camera shows me sitting on a couch, looking increasingly fatigued. I try to hide my discomfort from the partygoers.]

NATASHA ROMANOFF

(coming over, worried) [Reader], you don't look so good. Are you sure you're okay?

I muster a smile, but it's evident that I'm struggling to keep up appearances.

I'm fine, Nat. Just a little tired. It's been a long day.

Natasha shoots a concerned glance at Tony, who approaches us.

TONY STARK

Hey, [Reader], I think it's time we had a little chat. You're not acting like yourself tonight.

(trying to play it off) Really, Tony, I'm just worn out. No need to worry.

Tony studies me for a moment, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and determination.

TONY STARK

Listen, I'm not buying it. Something's definitely wrong. Come on, let's get you checked out.

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - MEDICAL BAY - NIGHT

[Camera shows me lying on a medical table while Tony examines my wound.]

TONY STARK

Damn, this wound looks worse than I thought. How did you manage to hide it from all of us?

(voice trembling) I didn't want to worry anyone. I figured it would heal on its own.

Tony shakes his head, disappointed but understanding.

TONY STARK

You know, we're a team, [Reader]. That means we watch out for each other. Hiding an infection like this is dangerous.

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - MEDICAL BAY - LATER

[Camera shows me lying in a bed, hooked up to an intravenous drip. The other Avengers gather around, looking concerned.]

STEVE ROGERS

You should have told us, [Reader]. We're here to support you, especially in times like this.

I tear up, overwhelmed by their care and concern.

I... I'm sorry. I didn't want to burden anyone.

NATASHA ROMANOFF

You're not burdening us. We're family, remember? Let's make sure you get the rest you need now.

The Avengers exchange understanding glances, determined to take care of me.

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - MEDICAL BAY - DAY

[Camera fades out, then fades back in, showing a montage of me recovering with the support of the Avengers. They bring me meals, check on me, and even a few funny moments that make me laugh.]

INT. AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS - MEDICAL BAY - NIGHT

[Camera shows Tony entering the medical bay, holding a tray with a piece of cake.]

TONY STARK

Hey, [Reader], thought you might need some cheering up. It's your favorite, chocolate cake.

I smile gratefully, touched by their unwavering support.

Thank you, Tony. And thank all of you, for everything.

[Camera zooms out, revealing the Avengers gathered around my bed, offering me encouragement and support.] FADE OUT.

stabbed

the request: reader is on her way to her apartment when she gets stab with a poisoned knife she gathers all her strength to walk to her girlfriend Natasha romanoff's house but she passes out on her doorstep *no narrator

Title: Fight for Survival

[Introduction]

[Scene: Exterior - Busy city streets in the evening]

I'm walking home after a long day, feeling tired but looking forward to seeing my girlfriend, Natasha Romanoff. Little did I know that this walk would turn into a fight for survival.

[Scene: A dark alley - The protagonist walks alone]

As I turn into a dimly lit alley, my heart starts to race. It feels as if someone is watching me. I try to dismiss my fears as paranoia. But suddenly, out of nowhere, a tall shadowy figure appears, lunging at me with a knife.

[Scene: Protagonist's reaction and struggle]

I'm caught off guard, and the knife plunges into my side. Pain surges through my body, and I realize this is no ordinary attack. The blade must be poisoned. I stumble backward, clutching my side, desperate to escape.

[Scene: Protagonist's determination]

Summoning every ounce of strength I have left, I gather my wits and decide to make my way to Natasha's house. She's skilled in combat and knows how to handle dangerous situations. I know she can help me.

[Scene: An exhausting journey]

Each step becomes a struggle as the poison courses through my veins. The world starts to spin around me, and I fight to stay upright. The path to Natasha's house feels like an eternity, but I refuse to give up.

[Scene: Natasha's house - Protagonist's final efforts]

Finally, I reach Natasha's doorstep, but my vision blurs, and my legs give way. I collapse, barely conscious, hoping Natasha will find me before it's too late.

[Scene: Natasha's shock and urgency]

Natasha, with her sharp instincts, senses something is wrong as she arrives home. She opens the door to find me lying unconscious on her doorstep, blood staining my clothes. Panic floods her face as she rushes to my side.

[Scene: Natasha comes up with a plan]

Natasha quickly assesses the situation, realizing the severity of my condition. She knows time is of the essence. She grabs her phone, dialing the emergency services while also reaching out to her allies for assistance.

[Scene: A race against time]

While waiting for help to arrive, Natasha does everything she can to stabilize me. She administers first aid and uses her extensive training to counteract the effects of the poison. With a mask of determination, she refuses to lose me.

[Scene: Paramedics arrive]

The sound of sirens fills the air as the paramedics rush to our aid. Natasha lets out a sigh of relief, knowing that help has finally arrived. The paramedics take over and rush to stabilize me before rushing me to the hospital.

[Scene: Epilogue]

Days later, I wake up in a hospital bed, weak but alive. Natasha is sitting by my side, her eyes filled with love and relief. We share a moment, grateful for each other and the second chance we've been given.

[Closing Shot]

[Scene: Hospital room - Protagonist and Natasha holding hands]

As we intertwine our fingers, I realize how lucky I am to have Natasha by my side. This harrowing experience has only strengthened our bond, reminding us of the power of love and determination in overcoming life's greatest challenges.

[End]

#marvel #marvel x reader #reader insert #natasha romanoff x femreader #natasha romanoff x reader #tony stark x reader #the avengers #ai #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #ai fic #poisonning #kidnap tw #tw kidnapping #injury

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plasticfangtastic · 9 months

Text

Can We Be Lonely Together? Ch. 12 3/3

A Homelander X Stalker! Reader fanfic

This is a GN reader but male leaning for crackship reasons. this is also a Supe! reader fic

Author's note: YAY!! thank you for making it to the final part of the final chapter, hope y'all like it... there's an epilogue coming btw but its short thankfully! LONG CHAPTER ahead! warning! thank you for reading and I can't wait to drop the 2 fics I got in the works, one is just HomeAsh smut and the other just pure Homie fluff. previous chapter on #my fic tag and #can we be lonely together? tag in my blog.

R18+ Child death mention, child murder, gore, mild gore, murder, smut, Homie OOC towards Ashley, rape mention.

Chapter 12

Cont.

The morning after was without struggles, a new routine set itself after medication and breakfast now the cats needed your attention.

Homelander was still silent, still far away– but John did his best to look strong without his brother’s guidance, yet unable to stop hoping to see his brother's reflection.

You took to work, he said nothing about you entering the labs to pick up supplies, he even gave you his blessing, ensuring the security cameras were off during your shopping spree, the thought of you killing excited him greatly, pent up arousal still burning his loins as all you could muster after last night spat, was a quick fuck in the shower before bed and some head before breakfast, he had cummed but he wasn’t satiated.

Insufficient by all means, you backed up against his hips, the hot water reddening your sensitive skin, squeezing as he threatened to leave only for his hips to smack yours to reassure you that wasn’t going to happen, pumping a single thick load without leaving a bump, you cleaned him with your tongue, making sure to get every nook as he sheltered you poorly from the shower.

Your tongue flicked him awake, squeezing him with all your might as you pumped him messily, letting him watch as you pleasure your throat with his member, leaving him in awe as your nose got tickled by a small tuft of hair, his hand firm against your head as he groaned and hissed as your teeth rubbed his sides awake, holding hands as he came making sure to swallow every splurt and licked every drop you’ve spilled, before he could return the favor– Ryan woke up, so you cut it short this morning.

And then the cats protested, they complained a lot, demanding things after only being here for a day, but you and the kid seemed too happy to please.

It was to be a long day, he worried.

No calls during lunch break, or smoke break, no messages to remind him to eat and that a glass of milk was not a meal.

He knew you had the day off but he still expected something, you failed to reply to any of his messages.

He could feel something pressing against him.

It would be eight o’clock and you still haven’t called home, it was past nine and your phone kept leading to voicemail.

It was almost ten when Ryan asked about you, as he prepared to go to bed, Homelander reassured him that you were at work at Dolores’s restaurant, ordered him to keep the fort and headed out.

He hadn’t want to think about it but his mind betrayed him, did you lie? Were you with somebody else? who the fuck where you with!? his chest puffed the more and more he thought of that nameless woman, you wouldn’t. He was better looking, wealthier, smarter and high specs than some OnlyFans thot– were you trying to get back at him? Even after you forgave him? But the more and more he huffed, the nearest wall cracked deeper under his fist.

He felt that squeeze in his heart.

You've said you liked the difficulty.

What made this cheap mudperson difficult?

His throat grew an impossible knot, he felt againts the hall wall as he headed away from his apartment, resting his temples as he lost control of his heartbeat.

Boars had tusks to shred you, to impale you, to bleed you with, after all.

There you were lying cold in some rat infested alleyway, the stench of your rotting corpse hidden by putrid piles of rubbish, and wet bitumen.

There was you still crawling, still clinging but too far away, too quiet to catch anybody's attention– not that anybody would care in this city.

He choked, his mind racing and the ringing in his ear painfully loud at the thought of you calling for him behind red gargles, claws shred his insides.

Heading downstairs to Analytics to find one of your co-workers. Your phone stopped ringing and sent him straight to voicemail.

The man looked up, seeing the alarm in his expression, he was tense and shaky as he took the back of the chair, leaning slightly towards him, the man squeezed his bladder as the back seat cracked under Homelander’s grip.

“Give me the last known location for this cell phone.” He showed his screen to the man– now!”

He jumped and began checking the data, not questioning his motivations or why Homelander had that number saved in his contact as ‘Fiancee’ ; it took a couple of impossibly long minutes before something pop-up.

“It says that is–

“Soho. I know the place…”

Pantingly he looked away, his ears ringing too loud, and each movement felt tight, what could’ve possibly been there left for you? He caught himself as his eyes attempted to squeezed some weakness out of him, as his suit became unberably itchy.

“This phone hasn’t been active since it got there… no tower has picked it up afterwards, sir.”

“Good work. if it moves you call me.”

He was gone before the other man could even muster a response.

In minutes he had crashed on their lavish patio, it’d be another minute until Kent emerged from inside the house.

“I knew you’ve come…” he flashes your phone, the screen cracked– but I can’t help you.”

“Where the fuck is Y/N !?” He growled, illuminating the darkened patio.

“Pusher came by my office around two… by six I was handed this by an old colleague at the Times.” He smacked his lips– I was hurt.”

Untucking a newspaper roll from under his arm, Homelander didn’t care, his eyes glowing brighter than before, illuminating the skin around his eyes giving Kent a glimpse of veins and skullbone.

“God… are you here because you miss that ice queen?”

“My calls keep going to voicemail– even the burner phone.” He muttered– "I can't get ahold of them.”

“Hot damn– I told Pusher to leave you because you were never gonna last… seems I was wrong... you just wouldn’t leave unscathe. You ain’t going to find Y/N, they're gone, probably already got a new name and passport– you think you’re special? Let me guess Pusher said they’ll marry you?”

The light faded slightly, as Homelander shoulders stiffen, watching the arrogant prick get closer.

Thinking of that woman again, your bff would know if you two...

“Before you was a cute aspiring writer, then the librarian, there was a rich baker too, some hot married thing, one who cheated on Pusher so the idiot buried the bitch alive and then had Dolores find them after they clawed their way out, and right before you there was this wannabe self-made trustfund kid– Pusher loves you, cherishes you but the moment you stop acting like the character in the movie they made about you… is goodbye. Unlike them you can’t be killed by traditional means.”

He threw the newspaper at his feet.

“You and Pusher?” John asked, the more this snake spoke the more he wanted to see it choke on its own tail.

“God did you hear anything I just said? Ours was complicated… our relationship is more than… yours, but not at the moment. Altho Pusher did leave you this– took a good chunk of the liquid you had and put in an off shore account, made it seem like an everyday transaction for you, the info its in the note app… something about making sure Vought couldn’t fuck you over. It's not all of your fortune but you and the kid won’t need to think about your grandkids working either.``

Homelander took the phone off his hand.

“I’m not like any of those worthless–

“You’re different? You are not– Good luck finding the idiot… sorry about Vought, tho.”

The way Kent’s body thud against the tiles wasn’t as cathartic as he’d hope for– the slow wind flicked the pages of tomorrow morning’s edition of the New York Times, in big bold letters “The Great American Disgrace.” he crook his head as Kent drowned, as his mind processed the missing half of his body and agonized.

Glad that this married asshole was away from his pumpkin, he had spent too much time with you… it didn’t seem right, anyhoo.

He wasn’t like any of those low born mudpeople, he was divinity incarnate, a higher being, you were of the chosen few— so there was no surprise that simpletons did not keep your attention for long– he was better than all those nameless cocksuckers. He was the fucking Homelander but you didn’t answer his calls, this phone who vibrated with a hundred missed connections for some reason had his money, looking around on the device, you also had a few other disturbing things, all of the devices on his name and others close to him were being monitored by you, he ignored it for the moment.

He took the newspaper, seeing a massive photograph of a familiar boy, smaller print in bold highlighted words ‘Operation Patriot and First True American’ the words: inhumane, organized child murders, illegal human experimentations– repeated themselves, but above all… his name… his deadname, the sequence of numbers and placeholders. The entire front page was thousands of letters describing horrific findings… by 7 am the whole country would see this picture of him.

Just a small thing, holding a blue blanket, taken from a security camera, of him alone in a sterile room.

The other images were of his mother sitting alongside two other women, their bellies swollen and their eyes glazed, in drab hospital garbs. Then little kids he had never seen, images of higher quality than those drab 80’s photos.

Homelander sat on Kent’s bench, he had forgetten how to breathe until he was done reading the whole front page did his lungs lived again, flicking to the next one, more images, more names, more women he vaguely remembered, faces, smiles, bodies… names.

Only a few meters from him were a bundle of sleeping children but all he had of his were these grainy images– of little girls with his lips and little boys with his hair, some looked nothing like him until he stared just hard enough to see his chin or ears.

A quiet wail escaped his lips, as he cried into his hand, his eyes flowing endlessly, the more awful words he read, the more Homelander ears rang. Wobbly knees lifted him, catching sight of the illuminated 7, refusing to believe all of this… he wouldn’t crumble… not yet… not until he felt safe.

He had to protect John, that was his purpose but who was there to comfort him.

Now when he wanted to burn it all.

In a large penthouse Stan Edgar laid asleep.

Jumping as he felt the weight of his bed shift, in the dark he saw red, at the edge of the bed, just watching him without breathing, no hiss escaping his lips– just Homelander… or something worse watching at him with the stillness of statues.

Edgar took his glasses, finding this sight just as unsettling, not that he let it show, a part of him expected this visit sooner than later.

Homelander and him stood like this for a very long minute, until his arm creaked handing him the newspaper.

He turned the gold table lamp on his glass side table, his bed a velvety plush thing, and his sheets disgustingly expensive.

Homelander muttered nothing, no sound, no movement, he was more projection than physical entity, for once Edgar’s heart rate did pick up at the sight of him, this was not his petulant child. Homelander watched his demeanor break as more and more of his idiot brain processes the information.

“I won’t let you kill yourself, nor am I going to kill you. I want you to see your empire and your legacy burn in front of you… and when you finally could feel even an ounce of my pain… then I’ll watch you beg me to kill you.” he whispered.

“Homelander…”

“The CIA is outside your door– you won’t be doing an Epstein on me, either.”

“This has nothing to do–

“ Your name over and over… Madelyn’s, Jonah, the other cunts in the labs… you… all of you… on page 3”

He stood up with freakish smoothness, his hidden hand threw two sticky wet masses towards Edgar.

“I used to think Earth looked beautiful in outer space… but… is so ugly… is just too cold out there. too cold for them, too” his lip barely move, cheeks stained with trails and trails of dried tears– who knows where they are now… just drifting away endlessly in the vastness of the Milky Way– too far for me to even catch them again.”

Edgar looked down at the mass.

Two hunks of hair, still attached to their scalps, little specks of melted red ice puddled on his quilt.

“Maybe Zoe will hit Jupiter by the time you die. She cried so much when I took her hair off… Vicky too… so I made them twinsies.” he chuckled– it was so sweet.”

Oh he had always wanted to see him afraid, crying, anything but his usual self, but now he did not care.

The man tried violence only hurting his hands in return, Homelander just walked out the front door as he screamed words that meant nothing.

Not staying to watch when the CIA operatives entered the house.

Aunt Mallory awaited him in the hall.

“I always wanted to see Vought fall. Never thought I would see it… or that you would help us get this done so quickly– even if it was on a threat. But I still couldn’t touch you. The Government would like you to take part in the trial– by tomorrow afternoon all of Vought who was involved in those operations will be arrested and charged with… fuck… everything.”

“Was somebody named Y/N L/N your whistleblower? You seen them?”

He was glad to have seen Kent, otherwise he wouldn’t be watching Mallorys response so closely.

“Can’t tell you that.”

so stupidly easy, she was being smug.

“Can’t tell me where my own fiancee is… or should I go get it out of Butcher? He’s downstairs in the lobby.” He sounded raspy as his throat had given up– I’ll testify on the trial… you know the things they did to me wouldn’t get these people more than a couple years without my testimony. If you tell me and grant me immunity… say you find something else… I’ll give you my all and maybe something you’ve wanted too–

Mallory could cream herself at the fantasy, sensing his desperation and in response his willingness to harm to soothe it, she bit her lip.

“Too good to be true. We don’t really need you for a trial y’know once we identify the families of the women and children–

“I won’t let you touch Ryan.” He said calmly, taking a step closer with red in his eyes– You think the CIA is better than Vought? Either I burn this fucking country to the ground and force you to nuke your cities just to see if you could even scratch me, or you agree– or do you think Soldier Boy will help you, after you put him back in a fridge? I’ll be nice if you like, I’ll even stop compound V production until we can see the outcome of Vought... I won’t hand it to your people or mine– if you hand me the paperwork saying I’m just a poor little meow-meow.”

He spoke so softly even his cursing didn’t sound hateful, in this tranquil tone Mallory froze, his hand lifting her chin slighty forcing her to met the bluest eyes she’ve ever seen, to see this calm sea holding back a biblical flood.

“We can be civil. You got my word.” She bit her tongue– how come you haven’t yet.”

“That’ll depends solely on you.”

“This Whistleblower left before Butcher delivered me the files. Don’t think he would know.”

“Useless.” he grumbled– "I want to see that bastard in jail first, anyhoo.”

Homelander headed to the elevator, his mind trying to hold the avalanche that was John inside of him, to hold himself until he could find a place to scream.

William sat on a couch by the opulent lobby of the apartment complex, finding something comforting in seeing him... now it bothered him too much but Homelander ignored it, already on edge, one wrong word and he would collapse.

“When was the last time you spoke with Y/N?” John said.

“Why the fuck woul’ I tell you?”

“William. I’m afraid my Pusher lied to you… whatever was said about me is not true, it was just a ruse to get you to do the dirty work.”

Dead, cheating or running away. Homelander would play the one that hurt him the least and the most, he needed to see you, to understand what you’ve done.

“Those bruises looked fuckin’ real to me, mate.”

“Pusher is a Supe– A Telepath probably told you what you wanted to hear to get you to do as told. I just want my fiance back… I… I can’t do this alone…” His expression softened and his eyes stung– did it make you happy? To see those videos? To see my kids die before I knew their names? I haven’t even seen them, just what was said on the papers and Mallory told me.”

“Don’t. You don’t wan’ to see it, mate. I Hate you. I fuckin’ hate you but… your kids… they were gonna do that to Ryan. They was gonna make my Becca into a monster! All she did to protect that little boy just to end up killing him! My Becca wouldn’t have lived with herself… none of those kids and their mothers deserved that.”

Butcher spoke, his voice did nothing to hide the pain he felt over what almost had awaited Becca, the pain and guilt he felt as he once considered handling that kid back to Vought to rescue her back then, Becca would’ve killed herself from grief if not by her own hands if she was still here and saw those videos.

Homelander sat beside him, he had died once tonight, he could do it again, Butcher shaken as he sat on top of his flag that he almost seemed so careful with before.

“I need to see them. William… please… I need to know… maybe it’ll make you happy to see me reacting to it.”

He looked so frail next to Butcher, whomever this was they did not recognize him.

“If Pusher won’t be there for me– can I have you instead? After all, we had something different.”

It made him uncomfortable to hear him say that, whoever this man was... was just a wounded stranger, sitting too close, their knees touching, Homelander seeking for any relief and Butcher feeling his skin crawl.

“It won’t make me happy. I’m not sick like you” He took a cigarette out offering Homelander one the man considered for a strange second or two– After this what are you gonna do?”

“I think I’ll move to the mediterranean with Ryan, the two cats and maybe… maybe two more people… Mallorca… or Valletta… You can visit Ryan if you like… before that golf ball in your brain kills you. You should see the beachest down there… so pretty– but after I find my pumpkin.”

He lit the cigarette on Butcher’s lip, this was it. The end. It sucked for them both.

They shared a sorry laugh, Butcher picturing the blonde in tacky Hawaiian shirts and a burnt tan screaming ‘Expat’ he just didn’t seem like the type to pull it off, unlike himself.

“I’ve been to Greece on my honeymoon…it wont be pretty not with you in it. I’ve called your fiance early, that we had met all their demands. They came soon after and dropped the passwords, then asked my Frenchie for tips to deal with a supe. They fashioned some stuff for a bit then your Pusher left around four.”

“What Supe?”

“Firecracker.”

He scoffed.

You had forgiven John but never did you say anything about her, he stayed with Butcher even after Edgar was dragged in front of them, following him to his office to watch the videos that even his worst enemy didn’t want him to see.

The longer he watched the less he wanted to see, he had left Butcher’s office by dawn.

Butcher feeling not victorious as he watched them, the happy recordings of kids being kids, of kids trying to make their mothers happy, until the tears began, until the blood, and the screams, until they became silence.

He opened the front door for the authorities heading a private tour to appear extra cooperative... the company was a mess, a beehive disturbed by ravenous wasps.

An emergency meeting was called and the news were talking non-stop of him, of the others could’ve been Homelanders, of his mother and their mothers. His aunt was already victim to guerilla interviews unable to understand what’ve happened, the stocks were below red, and their competitors were just waiting to start eating their hot juicy remains.

“We will cease all production on V. until further notice… but honestly I’ll just take my severance package, and let you guys take care of this.” His voice soft– This is over. All of it. No point in crying about it– it ain’t you guys who ought to be crying.``

Ashley whimpered regardless.

“Sir… I would’ve never authorized this–

“You are too weak to do these things. You've been a good girl Ashley… the least I can do is make sure you’re taken care of, I’ve put in a good word that you had nothing to do with this– after all this is before our time” He turned to the others in the boardroom– them on the other hand. After all of you get arrested I’m going to kill everybody you love and feed them to my cats… maybe not tomorrow, or next week– but I will… I’ll fucking let your dogs rape your wifes and send you the videos and maybe send them to your kids.” he chortled– All of you can go fuck yourselves. Now me and Ashley are going to get out, and none of you better make a peep.”

It was quite the scene.

“Ten million should be enough to live comfortably for you, right? Or is that like a lowball amount? With inflation is hard to tell.”

“Excuse me?”

“I won’t hurt you Ashley because Ryan likes you. And your name did not appear anywhere…” he petted her head mockingly– you and I are done… but you’ll have to sign an NDA about the things you covered for me, your last job for me is for you to testify in the trial.”

“Are you doing alright, sir?” She was too shocked to ask anything else– I…”

“No.”

“Hmm… sir, I wanted to tell you before the meeting that Firecracker has been missing since this morning. And one of the guys from Analytics gave me this… address. Said you had requested it but you never answered your phone this morning.”

His mouth crook upwards.

“She left her phone at home. We already had a team out looking for her… is she our whistleblower?”

“Did she have any friends? Any brunettes with freckles and a big ass?”

That rang bells for an odd reason, a girl she had seen hovering around her during recordings.

“Yes…? I think her old editor.”

“Get me her address, I’m going to go deal with them”

There you were again in a ditch, your face gone, Firecracker nowhere to be seen.

Mallory and some other high ranking investigators stood watching closely overseeing the arrests. Their suits filling the halls.

“That one had nothing to do with it.” his thumb pointing at Ashley.

“Any more requests, your highness?”

“Not going to give you the formula for Compound V.”

“Vought and you caped bastards going away sounds like a dream to me… but you kept your word… I kept mine, you will be granted complete immunity even if we aren’t investigating but the crimes against you. We are pinning all of this on the old guard.”

“Enjoy it.” Before he left he turned around– thanks to you the whole country gets to live another day.”

Butcher stroked his temples.

“And he is going to get away with it!? All of it!?” Starlight protested, the rest of the gang sharing her sentiment– Butcher!?

“Is out of my hands. The fuckin’ ‘ead of Homeland Security, the CIA and the president rather he retires to fucking Madeira than risk a nuclear apocalypse! They haven't even begun to unravel Soldier Boy’s abilities, and the Russian’s ain’t helping– you think I want this!?”

“So what are we gonna do?”

“Nuthin’ we won. Besides… Y/N might be a serial killer…” Starlight and company urged him to continue– couple years ago some writer and their friend were found killed… nobody could describe this Beck Nevere partner, as if they never existed, not their age, gender, color nor height, they knew Beck had a partner– both the victims social media accounts were clinically scrubbed… talking black-ops level completely fucking clean. They suspected a Supe was behind it but it led nowhere. There were another couple corpses here and there with similar lack of witness accounts. Only one gave a vague description and a name... Pusher.``

Hughie pulled up the sketch composite that Butcher was referring to, it wasn’t perfect and some of the details were wrong but there was a familiarity to the image.

“This cunt went here to ‘elp us get rid of Vought. Maybe they’ll get rid of him too.” he thought of that name the cunt had dropped– He called them ‘Pusher’ I bet if we dig far enough we could find about this bastard.”

He thought of Homelander sitting on that leather couch, wondering who was after who.

As he sat in the archives a metal box opened and its contents carefully placed around him, Homelander would cry alone, at pictures of close strangers, the sound of voices he would never hear down his halls, all the families he could’ve had, all the first he could’ve witnessed, John could had been given all that made him weak, all that would render him needless, but all he had wanted, all their stolen timelines… You had given him a mother… had you tried to bare him children but found this graveyard.. leaving you more frail than wet paper... did you shattered? Afraid he would kill you for this after his mother’s fiasco? Had he finally managed to scare you?

Two men awaited to take some for evidence, but gave him space until he was ready.

By the end of the day, the internet was losing its mind, even his biggest detractors and haters had nothing negative to say about him, before the day ended the whole world saw Homelander as a victim, a man brainwashed, a survivor.

Theories that the entire internal coup that saw Edgar fall from grace were nothing but a machiavellian plot to take over the company that had caused him so much harm-- it was to be the next best biopic, studios already preparing for the upcoming bidding wars, and publisher eager to jump at him with publishing offers for his biography, it would sell out day 1 if it happened, News channels and celebrities already competing to see if they could get him to sit down for the first exclusive interview.

Some still hated him– but as of the first 24 hrs the public was sympathetic. It would become the popular opinion to not hate him, those who did would be silenced, and eventually it would be taboo to voice it openly, or at all.

His strange quirks and violent outburst now blamed on complex PTSD and trauma, he wasn’t hated nor ridiculed to his surprise, while much of the facts had been sanitized, much of the details to be saved for the trial or for government eyes only– enough was out to paint a horrific image; CNN to Joe Rogan had been given a couple of heavily censored clips, graphic enough that its content was undeniable. The families of the mothers, and his ex-lovers already being identified, the missing women had been given potential and confirmed names in massive reddit and 4chan efforts, faster than the FBI had even if there was plenty of misinformation drowning the main feeds.

He had checked Firecracker’s friend apartment finding nothing, no struggle, or signs of it that’ve been cleaned, her keys missing but her wallet and phone left behind.

A couple of cigarettes left behind, no lipstick marks left on the buds, Firecracker wasn’t a smoker, he grinned.

He could scan the whole city and eventually find you, but it came to him.

A number he didn’t recognize appeared on his screen.

“Found your bitch, aye.”

Seems Butcher wanted some payback, he was better at this than Homelander after all.

“Love you too. How you get my number?”

The other man was silent at the other end of the line, watching the building you were holed up.

“Your bitch used me. Painted you as some victim to be pitied. Made you get away with all the bullshit you’ve done– I want front row seats to the funeral… found some of your bitch past achievements– gnarly little things.”

“You and me both.” He was to let you explain, to tell him everything before he made a decision on you– thanks.”

“This one is good– but I am better. Gather your team is a bit short of funds and all, just so you know I’m gonna get ev’n.”

He hanged, seconds after Homelander received a text message.

Homelander flew, finding you wet, naked and tired.

You looked more beautiful than ever before, as you throw your back with each swung of a modified machete, sweating profusely as you bathed in her life, your shoulders burn and you hair clump around your temples... you looked breathtaking.

His ire fading as the sight of you assuaged him, the thought of your arms holding him tenderly... the only place he could cry, of your lips telling him all the things nobody had meant and internet voices were too impersonal to mean much for him, left alone for days, worried sick you’ve been hurt by Firecracker and left dead on some dumpsters, you were safe, you could explain yourself, he could grant you one chance to explain yourself.

You did look so beautiful.

But you were here, breathing, thinking of him still.

They would just be a little upset still.

But you could explain it all... maybe it had been a misunderstanding... maybe you didn't meant it.

And then here you two were.

Dawn fast approaching, the cool breeze rustling your hair.

“Why did you ran away?”

“Killing Firecracker was harder than I anticipated. The fugu only paralyzed her… had to get creative with the saws… took me a whole day to find the right blade. Not to mention I had to kill the friend first. I was so tired I overslept quite a bit. I only caught up until you showed up.” You admitted– I kidnapped her friend, drew her to that safe house, and then you showed up.”

Her heart beat honest, it shocked John.

“I did have to find out a few things about you from Butcher, Kent, my team… you’re certainly a character. So why did you kill your exes?”

You looked away, embarrassed and ashamed to say this outloud, not wanting to talk about past lovers.

“They couldn’t handle my devotion.” Your voice is gentle yet pained– Too intense for them. I suffocated them and made them feel isolated.” trembling lightly you looked up at him– I loved them too much but they couldn’t muster to return an ounce of what I gave them. They didn’t want me anymore. Didn’t want to give me my refund. They weren't my true love.'

“So you didn’t get bored?”

“All I wanted was to be loved like I always dreamed to be loved. They got bored of me… they hated me… they couldn’t stand me.” Your eyes watered– But you returned my love, so equally.”

He strokes your hair, tucking it behind your ears.

“You won’t fall out of love with me… even after you erase my memories?” John asked.

“Is nice that you think I can do that– you need it for the trial. Or you meant later?”

“Maybe I want you to kill me instead of killing you, and leave my brother in charge.”

You dropped an imaginary plate, all air squeezed out your lungs, your nails digging on his arms.

“No!! I would not!!” You shouted– Absolutely not!!”

“You did all of this to have me all for you, but maybe I don’t want to be all yours. My brother likes you… he only came back for you, he ignored me for you. You love him, not me. Nobody loves me, I’ll cheat on you again– you can’t win me over not after what you did! I have nothing! Vought! Privacy! This fucking suit!!!”

He whispered words laced with anger and pain.

“Then I will kill the next one, and the one after and the one after that one. Fuck I’ll kill the bitch you stared for more than five seconds at the coffee shop queue if I must. As long as you come back to me John is alright… is you, him and me.”

He whimpered, stifling a tear, the way you spoke so softly, your deliverance continuously painfully honest, hard to reconcile your merciless nature with this one who saw him as their everything, genuinely meant it, who saw him as frail and began to cried at the thought of euthanasia.

“I won’t stop until I consume every ounce of doubt you have.” You mumble– I’ll never ever let you leave. I’ll put you in a glass cage if I have to” you stroke his cheek, clinging to him, a strange white swirl floated in your eyes– All I did was to protect you and us. That man– Butcher… was going to destroy you! I was lucky I gave him those files and made sure no matter what– the whole world would never think of you as evil, thanks to me. I got rid of her because I’m yours… so you didn’t need her… you own me.” Your kisses are so soft on his neck, turning him into glass replacing the old marble– I want to crawl inside you to feel your warmth for your touch is not enough. I would consume you if I could and fill my guts 'till it burst, so you might nourish all of me. Just to be closer to you.”

Homelander mouth dried, your words clawing at his throat, his hand glued to you feeling his body swirl as you pulled his face closer, gasping with every fond stroke of your lips and palms, the red flickering the more you spoke and his heart thumped, as he struggled to breathe, you sucked it out his system.

Your pretty eyes so white.

–You could have me forever and tuck me in the closet until you need me, and I would be fine with it– I’ll be there for you… ‘cuz I love you and you’re very special to me John, so I’ll just make you come back to me– both of you.” You cried, kissing him more intensely, sussurating into his lungs– I prayed and prayed to all gods for traces of you. I gave up hope… but you found me instead.” you kissed him more, and more, bleeding into his tongue. Harking back at the first moment you met, the moment you heard them both, and your eyes met, that first shared heartbeat– Even my ghost won’t leave you. I promise. Now that the gods have brought us together I won’t let go” you sobbed clinging on to him, that pale light brighter– I was born for you.”

There is a perturbing and enthralling manicness to you, your voice will forever haunt him as it spoke so sweetly, your kisses branding him with iron, you were pulling him closer, swallowing him– it frightens him how unbashedly you yearned for him.

You were a scary thing.

A monster.

His other half.

He let himself be saved in your arms, his legs giving up, pushing you both into the hard ground.

Your declaration makes his wounded heart thump more alive than it had ever been in forty years.

It wouldn’t heal him, it wouldn’t fix anything, it wouldn’t earn you forgiveness.

But Homelander and John needed this. Always had. Both had seeked this.

He had wanted something awful it seems.

That god would make somebody just for him.

Who had felt the same suffocating loneliness.

And emerged just as awry.

Who would cling to him shamelessly, like he had yearned since the moment he learned he was born from nothing.

Who for forty years had clung to sweet nothing in search for anything, any crumb of something to fill the abyss.

You here wanted to fill his abyss with your own tragedy.

Every sulken glance, every smile, every tear and every kiss… forcibly if you had to.

He needed to be cuddled and held, laughing maniacally as nothing made sense anymore, he cackled in between hoarse sobs, you kissed him, cradling him and swaying him, kissing his tears as he clung to you.

Looking up, a dying lamp vaguely illuminated above you two, a flickering halo framed you, you watched him with fervor, your lips lifted into a pained smile, holding him as if the mere thought of him touching the ground was killing you, your heart screaming so loudly.

Oh there it was… he thought, in the depth of all that was you. He finally really saw what his brother saw– Stormfront didn’t look at him like this… not close, not remotely the same.

You were the comfort of the familiar pain.

In the white ouroboros.

You were the Bad Room made flesh.

He was born there… he would die there…

He was inside that room, city skylines and rusted metal replaced by thick white cement walls, the flickering ligths replaced by cool white halogen.

He was born to keep John alive but John never knew how to be without him.

So he continued to be unsure of where to be.

Until you…

In your muddy disguise, without a hint of sanctity, you who appeared so boorish– you were the white walls that’ve birthed him, still chasing after him, a tulpa or demon from within that place.

What were you?

“Don’t be silly. If I was a demon I would’ve joined William’s side. Or tell you not to do the Oprah interview”

Glimpsin into that uneasy white swirl illuminating pupils, he thought.

Frozen inside this silent room, the buzzing of the air con drilling into his ear.

If his brother had taken the reins before, ran for days and nights, if he had agreed to lie about you before, if all John knew now was on your words– had you forgotten to tell him something?

What had you two kept to yourselves?

What had you two done while he wasn’t around? What had you shared for his love to infect him? For you to become like this? In his fracture memory he couldn’t reach the answer easily.

You kissed him as he watched the white swirl fade away like a slithering worm taking that unnatural light away from your irises.

With it the world returned.

He squeezed your hand, trying to calm down the oppressive weight in his chest– Oprah… he had already been offered ten million for exclusive first dibs, he could think of that instead of the unknown, as you pressed him against your chest, he could just let you two care for him as you had promise, let him just get the bliss and the fortune.

“Should I?”

“Well we gotta make sure the public thinks you’re a good boy… and if you want to keep killing we got each other... it will be much more fun if we gotta be sneaky about it. Also is Oprah, baby!”

“She’s so lovely, pumpkin.”

It was too much… how can one man, god or not– handle the last few hours, it was too much, accepting defeat, he could kill you but solve nothing, now he needed your powers.

He had said, himself… now he was a god made whole.

You held him until even his back grew sore.

He thought of waves, of never ending waves, and golden stone, of the cawing of sea birds and the heat on his back.

“You want to move there?”

“It's far away..."

You pulled him closer, as his head rested perfectly against your chest, kissing his forehead over and over until his toothy smile returned.

“You’ll be there to make everything okay… you'll make it okay.”

“I’ll take care of us forever.” your hand holding his cheek– I was put on this earth to care for you.”

To be held was all he ever wanted.

If his brother could hold him… this is how he imagine he would.

He felt the candor of your love, hotter than his own inhuman heat, he knew these frail chains made of bone and glass will not break, he held your collar and you held his chains.

Both visciously clutching on those chains.

Tangling himself further into the uncertainty, but he didn't fear it, he craved it.

Bleeding into his mouth.

Offering your fealty.

Whatever was to happen, whether the world would be blessed with rebirth or survive another decade, hanged on you.

#homelander #my fic tag #can we be lonely together?#the boys #Homelander x reader #Homelander x you #Homelander fanfiction #I'm ESL sorry about my grammar #homelander x supe! reader #will see if i can do a masterlist with all the chapters after I post the epilogue this wk.#personal #bit heavy on the YOU reference #this was after all a Joe Goldberg X Homelander fic #not that it changes it being a reader fic now hehe

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lutawolf · 2 years

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Thoughts and Notes for episode 6. Woot! The Great Wilderness Adventure!

It breaks my heart that everyone is yelling for Kinn but nobody for Porsche. Edited to say, this is different than the book. In the book the Korn is wanting both.

Big taking responsibility feels odd for his character. It feels suspicious 😕

And the petty Porsche begins. Kinn's got no body guards. It's just them so he can do and say what he like. Especially when he knows he is the one with the skills to survive.

"Hey Bigg! Hey Kinn!" Yup, I nailed it 🤣🤣🤣

Omg, I love the rock, paper, scissors.

And they circle back to the same tree. This matches the book.

"Trust me" "trust me" Porsche got a lot of deep seated emotions but they fit with a heartbroken person. They fit with a person who thought they were gonna be more.

Can you imagine how that feels. Porsche does all these one night stands. Because it's good for the bar and keeps the rich women coming back. He can't take someone home to see his younger brother because he has too many responsibilities without adding that. This was the first time he got to be with someone he wanted, the first time he could have something for himself. In this he and Kinn are alike. Yet that person wasn't holding him when he woke up but instead had his back to him, treating him like a one night stand.

They really trying to smash handcuffs with a rock? "It isn't gonna break stupid" How much you know about handcuffs Kinn? Could you get you and Porsche out???

Don't hold back Porsche!! Give it to Kinn. Lawd knows he's done it to you.

🤣🤣🤣 "Your life belongs to me" while poking him in the forehead and getting spittle on him. Don't know bout ya'll but I'm here for this Porsche. What's more, so is Kinn.

How romantic. Holding hands and stomping through the woods.

"I told you so" I respect that petty Porsche. I respect that so much.

Noo don't drink the water like that! No, no, and no. Take off your shirt and filter. Fuck it, their happy right. I mean worms but there's medication for that, right.

Anybody notice that Porsche is taking care of Kinn. Putting water on him. Making sure he is cool. He doesn't have to. They are on equal footing right now but Porsche is caring for Kinn. It's just automatic, like his feelings.

Okay that pan to them holding hands is too cute.

Kinn stops and Porsche just naturally does a hunch sitting position. Immediately taking care of Kinn again. This though, is someone tucking himself in to not expose so much to the sun. This is someone whose been in nature before.

"See if the engine still works" look you white crayon, Porsche. I know you are smarter than that. You know, you and Kinn really balance each other out because you have totally different smarts.

Ohhh, the sky is so pretty.

Porsche sees how beautiful the sky is and his first instinct is to share it with Kinn. "Hey come up here"

And Kinn sees that sky and yells. Not a hey people I'm here but as if he is releasing something.

Stones really... Really think you can make fire that way. I mean it's actually doable if you hit it against something metal. Pants button or the truck. You gonna take forever like this. Porsche is just letting him do it. Like, go ahead and exhaust yourself. Did you forget I'm a smoker? Though notice, I haven't seen Porsche smoke once. I mean I'm sure he left the cigs on the table back home. Still that definitely seems to be a stress relief habit.

Petty Porsche "you really know how to do it" Did Kinn really say "polite but hot" 🤣🤣🤣 Now he is just saying shit for Porsche. He wants to see Porsche smile.

God, I love petty Porsche. "I'm looking forward to a standing ovation" while sitting back and giggling at this idiot.

Kinn gives up and says they don't need a fire but Porsche "Yeah, so we can be eaten by an animal." Yup, somebody is used to the great outdoors.

Lighter! Called it!! I fucking love this Porsche. Thank you director Gods for giving him to us.

Kinn sitting there taking Porsche's shit with a slight smile to his lips. I'm not the only one loving this Porsche. Such a brat.

Poor Kinn, got some ptsd going on don't you. First you pulled a gun and now you pull a finger. You've got no one to trust so you always have to be ready to defend yourself.

That smile from Porsche at having the "finger" pulled on him. Then more smiles when he says "you're such a burden" home boy did you just realize that Kinn's gun pull was an automatic? It was never meant to actually be aimed at you?

"I heard that" but Porsche doesn't care. He's smiling and kicking his feet like he did at the pier. He has made some kind of decision here and he is giddy again. Edited to add that I think this is when Porsche forgives Kinn.

Fixing Kinn's legs. Straightening him out so he'll be more comfortable. More care. This time he is clearly aware of what he is doing.

That's a change from the book. It was Kinn that ordered Pete to watch V and it was later. They appear to be speeding things up.

"Do you think they know that we know?" Nope, Pete is completely clueless that you found him out. Going to act like he is making out with Pol! 🤦🏻‍♀️ You've been busted Pete. He noticed you following him awhile back. He's met you, why wouldn't he recognize you?!

Look at V calling you out. 🤣🤣🤣 "You've been on your stake out so long" 🤣🤣🤣

Pol, you really need your other half of the crackhead couple to stabilize you. You wouldn't survive long without Arm would you?

Pete are your eyes wide at the condoms or the size? Inquiring minds want to know.

"To catch fish" "why are you playing with that stick" Petty Porsche out here living his best life.

The way Kinn freaks out over the fruit!! Don't nobody try to tell me my man ain't gone. His heart and soul have left the body.

Meanwhile Porsche is just having a blast. But there is our third "trust me." You guys, Porsche is literally begging Kinn to trust him. If you ever want to get to the heart of what is bothering someone. Listen for what they repeat. It hurts Porsche that Kinn doesn't trust him. Does he feel like they don't have a relationship because Kinn doesn't trust him? Where is this pain coming from?

My man Porsche knows how to fish with a stick. Yup, he is familiar with the outdoors.

He has a knife!! Got it from the truck my ass! That mf has had that knife. Cause every wilderness person carries a knife. Smooth cover up though.

I love how both of them are smiling. Even with complaints and insults being thrown around, they are smiling.

Porsche knows his shit. Did you have to hide out in the woods? Did your parents used to take you camping?

Kinn giving him that fish! Fuck that's so significant. You guys! Kinn has done acts of kindness but nothing that Porsche can point at and go "this is out of character and is just for me." And look at Porsche taking it in saying "too kind" while side eyeing Kinn with a smile.

That was huge for Porsche and now he's trying to hide. This Kinn, this is the Kinn he wants. That he has seen glimpses of.

Ugh, I love that Porsche called him out. I love the banter back and forth. The figuring each other out.

Waterfalls are so fucking cold. So cold.

Hugging to warm him up. Yeah no, you both feeling the need for physical touch. Ugh, that shoulder kiss initiated by Kinn.

Okay, I'm rewinding. I really want to decide who initiated the kiss. Kinn grazes Porsche's forehead but Porsche is staring at Kinn's lips. That's when Kinn looks down. Porsche goes in and Kinn follows maybe 1 second later. Porsche is the first one to open his mouth.

Kinn backs off. Did he back off cause he feels guilty? And make no bones about it, Kinn feels guilty. Whether we know what Porsche is feeling or not, Kinn is acting like a man with a shit ton of guilt.

Or did he pull away from the kiss because he doesn't kiss and he feels he should be drawing a line? Remember he doesn't kiss so in some regards it probably is a bit awkward.

Porsche did not want it to stop though. He is leaning in even as Kinn pulls away. He looks at Kinn's lips again. Dude, he is staring those lips down.

The look of upset on Porsche's face when Kinn goes to take them out. It's not disappointment, It's upset. He is upset about something. Does he think Kinn stopped the kiss because he doesn't trust him? Is he upset at himself for being sucked into Kinn's gravitational pull?

Kinn my man, did you really make a small dick comment. 🤦🏻‍♀️ Not everyone can wear large magnum condoms. It's not the size that matters! It's your tongue technology 🤣🤣🤣

Oh shit! A dead person! We all know Porsche is afraid of ghosts. So far I'm finding this common with Asian countries so no theories there. Edited to say that I kind of wonder if this relates back to his parents.

Look at Kinn just letting himself be yanked away by Porsche, lol.

Now he is just sitting there smiling like a dumbass while Porsche is freaking.

Ohhhh, the way Porsche said "how could it be, you've been digging into my bio" he is really upset by this. Why? Is it the invasion of privacy or does he have something to hide?

Porsche side eyeing Kinn. Why does Kinn want to know something that isn't in the bio.

Oh, look at him struggling with himself. He wants to give to Kinn. At the same time he knows he can't. Kinn hurt him and he can't show him his cards again.

Oh, look at his face. He knows it's stupid but he can't help it. So he tells Kinn about the bar at the beach. Notice he didn't bring up his brother though. He'll give some of himself away but not all.

Now the difference between him and Kinn. It's not that Kinn isn't willing to spill all to Porsche. It's that he knows there is no chance of his dream so what's the point. Like crying over spilled milk. It's interesting though, if he is like this about himself then why ask Porsche? Does he feel that Porsche's dreams are still obtainable?

I think it's interesting that Porsche just straight up calls Khun crazy. Kinn isn't bothered because he can feel the affection. I think we all can. Porsche has an affection for Khun and it's equally returned. Therefore Porsche is allowed to speak straight forward when the other bodyguards are careful to say it in a whisper.

Of course Kinn wanted to be a singer! Because Mile the actor who plays him is!

Damn.. Kinn not knowing if he won because he was good or because of his dad. Isn't that just his life. Is he chosen to lead because he is good or because his brother is crazy? Do his people follow him for him or because of his dad? Does Kinn have anything that is truly his?

Porsche rushing in to reassure him. You guys this is not someone who doesn't care. He is constantly there for Kinn. Look at him encouraging.

Kinn looking to Porsche for his opinion. He wonders if Khun is really as crazy as he appears because he sees the intuitiveness in Khun.

What is that face Porsche is making though. He has no doubt that Khun isn't faking.

"I think he could" then he pauses and stares off. Soooo many micro expressions here. Sadness, regret, and uncertainty.

"I experienced that before" then another long pause with Kinn looking at him with uncertainty.

That car accident story. You guys he paused way too long before coming up with that. What are you hiding Porsche? Not saying he is lying but there is way more to this story.

Look at Kinn trying to comfort. He so doesn't know how to do this shit.

Look at Porsche though. He nods and then stares out. This! This! This! Is how a survivor looks when looking back on something traumatic. Even that face adjust and shrug are standard. It's the "I can't let anyone know how much this really effected me" pull back. Then the mask smile. This, this! Is what we do until we can stop hiding in a safe place.

You guys.. "I would erase the things I did you wrong" I told you. My man is carrying around some big guilt.

Look at the tilt of Porsche's head and chin though. He doesn't understand this conversation.

Porsche drawing up and thinking. He is in contemplative mode. Guys are they even thinking of the same kind of hurt? Porsche just nods because it doesn't matter if they are talking about the same thing or not, he forgives him.

You guys!! Don't try to tell me my man Kinn isn't gone. He gone!

Kinn's face when he heard them call his name. He was not as excited as he should have been.

I love how they potray that these two characters instinctively protect each other without thought. They've been showing that from the beginning. Remember when we first met Kinn, he had a strong survival instinct but it's constantly put on the back burner for Porsche. It's equally so for Porsche, you just have to look harder.

You guys. Porsche does not want to jump but he reacted so fast when he saw what was going down. He wasn't dragged. He reacted. Again I think the director Gods are hinting at a higher skill set in Porsche than he has been showing. What's more, Kinn knows it, which is why he doesn't hesitate.

Their first questions to each other though they are both hurt. Is to see if the other one is hurt.

Porsche asks Kinn once again if he is okay because he never got a reply. Porsche needs words. He needs things verbally communicated and puts a lot of weight to words where as Kinn is the opposite.

Even though Porsche says he is okay, Kinn does a look over. He needs to see for himself.

You guys. Porsche goes "why do we have to be handcuffed?" And Kinn immediately says "sorry" why!?! Because he thinks it's because of him? Because he knows handcuffs and can get them out?

"These make us know each other so much better" Damn you Kinn! You doing this get along cuffs on purpose.

I love how they are posed here. Mirroring each other but in complete balance. They are equally balanced. Even footing if you would. Right now we aren't seeing a Dom and sub but a Dom to a Dom. It's a cohesive pose.

His first thought was he didn't want to get out of the woods! Who would blame him. Again, when does Kinn get to have what he wants. What he wants is Porsche but he is struggling with if he has the right to have him.

Kinn pretty much admits this. He gets to be himself. Porsche does a little shake but can't help admitting that he likes this Kinn. Telling Kinn he is cute. Kinn uninsulted just smirks. Gone is the Dom who was insecure with himself.

Kin "I'm sorry" Porsche this time wants to know what about. "About that night" look at Porsche shifting his eyes, he is staring straight ahead so it's not avoidance. It's him thinking and processing. Okay, verbiage is important here. "I've never crossed the line with a body guard before, I don't know how I should place myself" this is an acknowledgement of Kinn not handling the next day correctly. "I've done so many bad things to you" then the camera pans to Porsche who has this kind of smile. Words. He needed words and now he is getting them. Then we come back to Kinn "If I could turn back time, I would not do things like that to you" He is saying he handled nothing correctly and that he now acknowledges that he hurt Porsche emotionally.

Porsche, smiles and deep sighs. "I don't know how to place myself either too" "no one has ever crossed that line with me before" then looks Kinn dead in the eyes. He looks down, so does kinn and then Kinn looks up. Porsche gives a little smile and a thumbs up. Then Kin says,"Can you please forgive me"

I don't know guys, I really don't. That smile and thumbs up indicates that Porsche doesn't know how to feel about himself because he's never had anal with a guy. That little self depreciation is him admitting it to Kinn. Then Kinn asking for forgiveness while Porsche gives it so easily. I'm torn about this conversation. Either someone did no research about SA and doesn't know how this shit works or this was a totally different conversation about Porsche admitting his confusion and Kinn admitting his fuck ups. This conversation felt more like communicating about turmoil than about trauma.

Look I'm an SA, I have done group therapy for years, and now I mentor. An SA does not forgive like that. So either different conversation about turmoil or somebody doesn't know shit about SA.

"Then from now on, we won't have any doubts between us anymore" Okay I'm leaning towards the different conversation. Like from now on they are going to talk? Look at the fucking smile from Porsche before he says "hmm, no doubts"

We went from a deep meaningful conversation to hand cutting!?!? And this back in forth. I'm dying.

Rock, paper, scissors! Then Porsche immediately showing that there will be no more doubts between them and sacrificing for Kinn. Their faces! To Kinn this is everything and to Porsche he is exposing so much of himself that he is uncomfortable.

He tries to cover, "I didn't want to come up with this" still Kinn recognizes this. Remember Kinn is a man who needs action because he doesn't trust words.

Kinn and that deep breath. It speaks volumes. He's made decisions.

I fucking knew it!!!!!! I fucking knew you could get out of the hand cuffs!

Let's get out of here. How? Kinn "I lead and you follow" and Porsche does. He doesn't have to. He could try separately now that he is out of the handcuffs but he is once again handing over that balance of power.

Kinn knew how to get out of those cuffs but he needed to be stuck with Porsche. He needed to air things out. Fix things. So he kept them bound on purpose.

Kinn is so sad. Even as Porsche is excited.

Oh, he is gonna give him up. That's love. Wanting someone's happiness more than your own.

Fuck, Mile you did so good. You can literally hear the choked up emotions in Kinn's voice. "So you can go back to your brother, get to open a bar" please note that even though Porsche never mentioned his brother, Kinn knew. Kinn knew.

Porsche is so torn. He is wondering if Kinn is pushing him away. But no, Kinn says "because he likes when you are happy" the pain on Porsche's face when being told to leave.

Porsche doesn't want to leave this Kinn. This Kinn right here, he would do anything for but leave his brother. This Kinn isn't one he can keep all the time. This is just a small portion. So while the choice is easy it's hard to do.

Porsche initiating the goodbye kiss. Kinn not pulling back. Them in fact gripping each other. Fuck, Kinn even moans. The way he is gripping onto Porsche's shirt as if to never let go. Porsche is the one to pull away. The pain on Kinn's face. Porsche looking back. Oh, I'm gutted.

Oh, that low gutteral noise of pain as he kicks the hand cuffs. That symbol of what he once had bound to him. He had exactly what he wanted, Porsche. He loves him too much to force him to be next to him. He can't force him anymore and despite the pain, he has to let Porsche choose. Too many things, people, and choices have been taken from Porsche and he can't do that to the man he loves anymore.

For Porsche to get back that fast, he hadn't left. I'm not saying he didn't plan to leave but he hadn't yet. He must have stood there listening to Kinn, struggling with if he could actually leave.

Also notice how well Porsche is fighting. There is no holding back this time. Very clean lines.

This all follows the book. Kinn sacrificing himself for his man.

Porsche screaming "Kinn" when he is shot.

This guy looks like a gangster not a mobster. I just want to note this because I feel it might be important later.

And they are rescued. Porsche's face though. Sadness and relief. He's in turmoil because this wasn't the life he planned on choosing but he revolves around this man. This man that took a bullet for him.

Holy shit, this is my longest. Sorry it's so long. Hopefully you guys enjoy. If so drop me a comment. For those that disagree, please feel free to discuss but don't come at me.

#streaming kinnporsche on iqiyi #kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche #kinnporche the series #kinnporsche thoughts and notes #kinnporsche luta #streaming kinnporsche

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iviarellereads · 6 months

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Network Effect, Chapter 5

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Murderbot Diaries, read this one!)

In which Murderbot sets somebody straight.

Murderbot calls back a lot of its drones to scout ahead and cover behind, heading toward Medical. It knows some intruder is controlling the targetDrones and guiding the ship through the wormhole, so it designates it targetControlSystem (I will use TCS). MB hopes TCS is sentient enough to hurt when MB kills it. MB also sets its drones to logging movement, even if they can't detect the stealth drones.

Some Targets arrive at the crew meeting area, but Target Three used a manual override to seal it from inside, and they can't undo it. They also can't access Art's systems themselves. MB decides Art must be dead, but it has to take care of the humans before it can have an emotion about it.

MB asks the Barish-Estranza pair how many Targets they've seen. When Amena clarifies that it means the grey people, they answer, at least five. MB has already identified six, making their intel useless, as usual. From its scout drones, MB sees Targets Four, Five, and Six reconfigure their helmets to cover their faces. It's not like it has enough drones to waste killing them that way anyway, but it's miffed all the same. Even its risk assessment module thinks the odds are bad.(1)

When they reach the next section, MB lets the humans through, then activates a manual release, and uses its energy weapon to melt a few key components. Ras asks Amena what it's doing, so Amena asks MB. Internally, it says it's using Art's schematic to close off the crew living section of the ship tactically. Aloud, it says it's creating a safe zone.

It loses two more drones to targetDrones on the way to Medical, but clears the way, remembering its time here with Tapan. It tells the humans to stay in the medical suite while it closes off the other hatches. When it returns, it asks where Perihelion's crew is. When she realizes Ras and Eletra aren't Art's crew, Amena takes MB's side in the questioning. Ras makes another comment about MB obeying Amena, who interrupts to say it doesn't even like her. MB thinks that's unfair, Amena didn't like it first. Ras tries, with Eletra's backup, to encourage Amena to tell MB to take orders from them, as the adults here.

I see I have some operational parameters to establish. I crossed the room, grabbed Ras by the front of his uniform jacket and slammed him down on the med platform. I said, “Answer my question.” Behind me, Eletra had flinched and backed away. Amena said, “SecUnit! My mother will be angry if you hurt him!” Oh, we were going to try that tactic, were we. I said, “You obviously don’t know how your mother actually feels about Corporates.”

Eletra and Ras finally admit they don't know where the crew is, they've only seen the Targets since they were brought aboard. Amena tells MB to stop being mean. MB says it's trying to keep her alive. Amena asks if MB is alright, the drone hit it real hard, and it doesn't look good.

MB tells Amena to take care of her leg, but without activating MedSystem. For a heartbreaking second, MB realizes it forgot Art is dead, but it continues that MedSystem was controlled by the bot pilot, who must have been compromised or it would've killed the intruders. All three humans look worried. MB points them to the emergency kits, and says it's going to go clear the section. It leaves Amena some drones, and from her expression, MB realizes she doesn't want to split up.

On the feed, Amena makes a quip about always having wanted drones. MB almost wants to banter, but walking around Art's corpse, it feels wrong.(2)

While scouting, MB wonders why the Targets were pounding on the hatch like they were, and notices that their helmets have turned stealth, though not their suits. MB wonders if TCS shares its information with the Targets, or if they have no idea what happened to 1-3. More evidence that they don't have access to Art's systems, if they don't know that 2 is in the lounge.

Thinking of Art again, MB starts working on a hack for TCS. It has to seize the ship before they get to the other side of the wormhole.

MB watches the medical suite through the drones, as the B-E adults question Amena gently. MB feeds Amena answers to some questions, to make sure the B-Es get the impression it wants them to. Amena ends up having to explain non-corporate polities to them, as they have no concept of non-corporate life. Eventually they get to exchanging real information, and they say they were attacked on a supply transport and pulled aboard in their escape shuttle.

MB finally realizes it still has a drone in the bridge, and has it start scanning for active displays. Ras and Eletra were never told why they were taken, only given the barest of necessities of life. MB still has too many places to look where it might find the crew's bodies. It starts to find inconsistencies, including with the story Ras and Eletra are feeding Amena, when it finds the cabin it believes they were stored in. The cabin doesn't smell as bad as it expected, and the furniture's not in as bad of shape. The cabins the Targets were using don't smell of humans, but of growth medium from agriculture.

At long last, Amena asks what the B-E ship was doing, and the adults say they were attempting recovery on a lost settlement, though it's proprietary information, so they can't share much. Amena says she's a junior intern and not from the Corp Rim, she can't share much with anybody.

Ras, as the less reluctant one, says they wanted to recover a viable planet. Eletra gives in, and together they tell the rest of the story. The locations of a lot of older planets were lost before the wormholes were stabilized, but researchers can find them in old data troves, and corporations can file for ownership to establish a colony. Some corps went bankrupt from their endeavours, and their colonies were lost. Amena and MB recognize part of Preservation's past in the explanation, as their first colony failed and they were relocated just in time.

At any rate, the B-E ship was attacked en route to the colony they believed they'd found. Or, that's what Eletra says before Ras can answer.(3)

MB finds a cabin that holds some artifacts of Art's crew, uniforms and holographic prints. As it has an emotion about how much Art loved its crew, MB has a sudden 5% performance drop. As MB makes its way back, the humans start talking about it again, and the B-E pair tell Amena SecUnits aren't reliable, their human tissue makes them unpredictable, and they go rogue and attack their contract holders. Amena, suppressing an emotion MB can't identify,(4) says she wonders why they'd do that.

MB grabs a bag of rations from a supply locker, and taps Amena in the feed to say it's coming back. It wonders about all the supplies onboard. Ras and Eletra speak as though they're under the impression Amena and MB have been onboard for many days, and Amena must be confused about how much time has passed. MB wonders if Art and its crew did more than stare at space, really not paying attention to the feed from Medical.

So I only had a 1.4-second warning when I stepped through the hatch and Ras fired a weapon at me.(5) For a human, his aim was great.

=====

(1) Oof, even with my theory that the RAM accounts for competence Murderbot doesn't, that's rough. (2) Murderbot is grieving and my heart is weeping. (3) I just find her rushing to answer very suspicious. What's she trying to get him not to say? (4) My personal guess is a bit of amusement with a soupcon of horror. She trusts MB with her life, unquestioning, even if it hadn't had plenty of chances to kill her already if it wanted her dead. But, I think she's smart enough to see how people who believe SecUnits can't be trusted, would mistreat them so much as to ensure the SecUnits want freedom from human rule. (5) Whaaaaaat? Why would he do this? What do he and Eletra know?

#the murderbot diaries #murderbot diaries #network effect #murderbot #secunit #amena #eletra (murderbot)#ras (murderbot)

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kopawz · 9 months

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whats up its wip wednesday! i'd say its nearly halfway done by now.

Chai swiped a hand through his bangs, "Fine," He reached for the drink he must've ordered, some kind of bubble tea.

"...This isn’t yours either, is it?"

"Nope," She lightly shook her own drink, putting it down on the table beside her again, "I've kinda had it this entire time."

Chai groaned at himself for not noticing that detail either… He leaned forward to rest his forehead onto the cool table.

His voice was a bit muffled from his head being wrapped in his folded arms, "Man, I really *am* out of it today, huh?"

Peppermint bit into her newfound basic bagel with one hand, "Yeeeeah, but I get it, you're out of your element here."

She reached over to ruffle the back of Chai’s greasy, bed-ridden hair with the other, "And two weeks straight of sleeping probably does that to you."

"Mm. I felt fine before I came down here, though." He sat up, lightly pushing away Peppermint’s hand, "I literally saw one of the head nurses and I got reminded of this, like…?"

He squinted in an attempt to remember, "Really weird dream I had. I kept having the same nightmare a bunch of times over."

She tilted her head, "Youuuu… Wanna talk about it?"

"Yeah, but… It’s weird." Chai leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms.

"Lots of things have been weird lately, Chai. I don't think whatever you dreamt up would weird me out enough to stop listening if you wanted to tell me."

It couldn't hurt.

"...Alright."

Chai brought up a hand to his chin, trying to recall the dream events through the fog of numbing pain medication, rather than the fog of Spectra’s remnant effects, "Sooo…"

"You, and the rest of the gang were there. We were all chatting it up in my hospital room. Then, the nurse came in to direct a call. My mom was ringing me on that– the little phone on the bed stand,"

"I tried talking to her, but she couldn't hear anything I was trying to say," He lifted his hand up to hover over his jugular notch, frowning, "It was like I was muted."

He reached across the table for his tea, swirling the straw instead of actually drinking it, "And, what she was talking to herself before she hung up on me–? It was like… I don't know."

808 watched the boba swirl with the straw, mesmerized at the bubbles' dance with a lazy expression.

"...Like what?" Peppermint offered.

"I thought she'd be furious, but– she sounded more disappointed and sad about it than anything. But it still– It just didn’t sound right. It sounded like she just gave up on me."

Peppermint knew damn well after hearing about his mother that she wouldn't, but she doesn't want to spoil the surprise.

"Well, hey. Stuff in dreams just get brought up from whatever you're scared of or worried about." She crumpled up her wrapper, and chucked it into a trash bin beyond the tables they were sitting at.

"M'yeah, you're right," He brought his tea closer, slurping obnoxiously, "I don’t… actually have any idea how she's gonna react to all this,"

He let the cool cup rest against his cheek, "I guess it would just be easier if I did."

Peppermint frowned at him, "You obviously can't control or predict how somebody's going to take something like this, Chai."

He grumbled, "I know! I know. My brain's just... barfing whatever it feels the most– right onto center stage."

"Weirder than that, though…" Chai leaned a bit closer to the side, sneaking a grin onto his face as if what he was about to tell Peppermint was a sworn, forbidden secret, "Kale showed up."

"Yeah, no shit." She raised her brows, unamused, "Blowing up his double didn't exactly get rid of him, did it, wise guy?"

Chai shook his head with a smile, "Yeah– No, but–! I think he was trying to help me for once!"

"...Seriously?" She squinted, suspicious. "Sounds fake."

"Yeah, it doesn't sound correct to me either, buuuut–?" He shrugged, reaching over across the table to pet 808, "I think him and 808 were trying to snap me out of it somehow."

"Her trying to help you out, I can believe," Peppermint pat the little kitty's head smiling softly at her–

She twisted back to look sourly at Chai, "But KALE? You're really sure his stupid AI double isn't just trying to get more sensitive information out of you?"

Chai made an uncertain noise.

"I'm… not sure."

His face hardened, putting down his empty boba cup, "But, I sure hope he isn’t– You remember back when you guys were pulling me out of the ocean?"

She gave Chai a look that made it hard to look at her directly. His angry outburst was still fresh in her mind.

"...What about it?"

"Well, um. Me and Kale, we made a truce!" Chai brought his fists together in a solid hitting motion, mimicking a brofist that absolutely did not happen,

"I told him when I was asleep; he’d quit attacking me, and stop nosing into my business. He seems to be…" He shrugged, making a high pitched noise, "*Trying* to do that?"

He sighed, shaking his head, "He's still being kind of an asshole, though."

"I don't think any promise could make him anything less of a huge head-ache," Peppermint snorts, "How'd you even get him to agree to that? Annoy him until he gave up?"

"What?!" Chai squawked out, offended, "I didn't need to annoy him into the truce– I'm good at reasoning with people! ...Sometimes!"

He huffed, grabbing the croissant to bite and complain through a mouthful, "…I guess a truce and starting up a band is as good as I'm gonna get right now, though."

Peppermint stared at him for a few moments, confused– "...What?"

"Yeah, a truce doesn't really make him nicer, I guess." He hummed, "Maybe I should've added, like.. another condition or something–"

"No Chai, why the hell are you starting a band with him?"

"He doesn't have anything better to do while he's stuck in my head forever, does he? I thought it'd be fun!"

She pinched the bridge of her nose, "Forever? Dude–"

Peppermint’s face lit up, "Actually, I don't think you'll have to worry about that,"

She grabbed the remaining trash from their breakfast, and swiped it into the bag they got, and stood from her seat.

Chai watched her as she moved to chuck the trash into a bin, "What do you mean? you guys *literally* told me this is something I can't just… remove,"

He knocked against his chest, making a slight glass clank against his hospital shirt, "Spectra’s tech is still kinda installed in my stuff, y’know."

She moved to stand beside the table, leaning her arms back on it, "Yeah– But, your, uh– adventure to plug Spectra back in actually helped mom figure something out about how the program's memory cache works."

He tilted his head up at Peppermint, scrunching his nose at the unfamiliar tech babble, "Memory what?"

"It was what was causing the blackouts. Basically, whenever we got those power outages from Kale's copy dreamwalking to bother you and mom–"

"We couldn't tell where it was coming from, because it wasn't plugged in."

"It was practically impossible to trace the source of the power surges, until two weeks ago!" She snapped her finger to Chai, "So, you actually might get a slightly clearer head out of all this mess, once mom figures out the memory cache transfer."

Chai and 808 nodded along, loosley getting the idea, "Alright, but I still don't know what this cache thing is."

"It's the part of Spectra that transmits the AI into your head, and lets it gather data to make it better at controlling and influencing the mind– That was the memory cache. It was reaching out to collect data even when powered off."

Chai appeared ready to unload a barrage of questions in quick succession, but he made a strangled noise when he was interrupted by a hand smacking over him mouth before he could fire off his first inquiry–

Pushing out a heavy sigh, "Look, it would be easier to just show you what mom wants to figure out how to do, instead of me explaining the whole process."

Peppermint quit leaning on the table, and moved away from their seats into the open cafeteria.

She looked back towards Chai, "Feeling better enough to make a visit to a patient?"

He hummed, looking down to check his right arm. It still felt like it was weightlessly rattling, yet the noise had stopped. It was now more of a buzzing feeling where the arm and shoulder connected.

"Eh, good enough. I'll tell you if it gets bad again," Chai stood from his seat, and waited a moment to let 808 clamber onto his shoulder. He picked up the pace, and started following Peppermint.

"...Who are we visiting, anyway?"

#hi fi rush #hi-fi rush #kale about to get a surprise visit LOL

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