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glowingmin · 3 months

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chapter 53 of this is an adjuration but its (moderately) analyzed

hi everyone we need to talk about chapter 53 aka i’m going to talk about it and you are going to listen. spoilers for the not only the entire chapter (btw i’m gonna be going crazy) but basically chapters 39 to 53 too. also yes i will be talking about all 100+ footnotes and yes i am going to be mad theorizing throughout. we cite our sources in this bitch.

first off: we’re starting off with Red being dead! fantastic! already in tears again thank you Vio. But now we get a different point of view, which is a lot more detailed. Makes sense because 1: vio and 2: four.

footnote 1: the implications of the hesitation. followed by footnote 76. green is an interesting critter. Red clearly is worried about dying, about becoming nothing if their sword is lost (footnote 93). From what I’m understanding, Vio and maybe Blue also felt the same during the sealing? Not too sure about Blue.

But also this comes back with when they go to pull the sword again! All of Link is in agreement (footnote 101). Which includes Green. Does existing again as Link where they don’t all fit back together perfectly help this along?

“Shadows grow, harsh and angular, a myriad of isosceles shards spilling out in a tiled plane. The power of them thrums, climes up Vio’s spine in a way that is so very familiar.”

Is Twilight’s shard the same Darkness as Shadow? As the Dark Mirror? I know nothing about twilight princess so I’m probably not qualified to theorize on it. Spoiler alert we're doing it anyways. The wording of shadows here, shadows being used, makes me think that it Has to be the same thing. Especially since Vio says that it feels familiar.

The portals that are taking them across time, whether caused by Hylia or Dink or Hyrule or Whoever Else is playing Tug of Link, also seem to be this dark magic. I don’t remember Vio saying that feels similar. So there has to be some sort of difference between types of dark magic.

revision glowmin here: did some twilight princess research. Apparently Twilight and Vio can shake hands on a friend breaking a mirror and disappearing. they should start a club.

footnote 2: Red and Vio bonding about Shadow! the pain of ‘when that happens, i’ll be right there’. but!! red isn’t here anymore!! christ!! “He’s good at that. Putting his feelings into metaphorical little boxes where they can’t touch him. Where they can sit and wait until he is no longer, and Link can take the boxes and open them up and the piece that is Vio can examine them under the safety of being a fragment, of being less-than-entire, of being whole, of being One.”

lets talk about this paragraph for a second. Link will no longer exist again. this is Unhealthy Coping 101 lads. He can’t be Link anymore to sort through all of those emotions (I figure Red is normally the one doing the mental housekeeping there anyways). So its going to sit in those boxes and rot there. Will it eventually explode? It sure seems like it during Ravio’s time travel dissertation!

footnote 3: king link the first. Sky? is Sky the king link mentioned here? like ik he’s the first in the Reincarnation thingie. is link doomed to be the hero because he was named after the king? if he’d been named bob would he have been spared? hmmmm. i mean Sky is literally mentioned in the sentence the footnote is linked to so.

“(...) it would be so easy to think that it was a piece of the King himself that died.”

but when you think about it, its true. the reincarnation stuff. Four is a Link. Four is a reincarnation of Sky. A part of him just died. So technically yes, I think thats literal.

“Oh. Blue. Blue is here. He can breathe now.”

“He blinks the blurriness out of his vision, to see Blue (his Blue, his guardian, his safety, his wall of ice between them and the world)”

“Of course he has to spell this out for him. Nothing can ever be easy with this man.”

the dual sides of the Vio opinion of one berry boy. The wall of ice though. Is that a callback to Blue being frozen solid in the FSA manga? And how Red had to save him? I notice there’s a lot of elemental imagery in the color-pov’s; green in particular about being comparable to the wind.

footnote 4:Absolute whiplash of a contrast to footnote 2. We go from Red offering to hear Vio talk about Shadow to chapter 39. chapter 39 my beloathed my sleep paralysis demon. The last thing Vio says to Red.

And we know context for why Red died. Red thought that Dink was Shadow. He offers the benefit of the doubt to Dink under that assumption. Even though Vio just spat at him, even though Vio is pulling away, Red is still trying. It gets him killed. If Vio figures out that information, I feel like it’ll be a terrible time.

“Vi isn’t… isn’t really sure which outcome would be worse. Either one would be better than this limbo, this waiting and floating and his body’s instinctive attempts to make him feel.”

emotions can’t touch me these shades are gucci - vio, probably. also I didn’t realize that Vio was still holding Red’s hand when they tried to become One again.

“After that, it’s as simple as wanting, of believing that to not be would be better than being, of feeling the thin tether of magic between himself and the gem in the pommel of his sword, and trying to make it stop. (...) Blue scoops up Red’s sword, the only bit of him left behind but his spilled blood, and two glowing points of red cut through the haze.”

foreshadowing?? foreshadowing?? i don’t remember if any other colors have commented on the tether between their swords and themselves. with that out of the way lets Talk about the difference between Vio and Blue’s thoughts of merging and then we’re getting into my Red Isn’t Dead coping theory

From chapter 40: “The three of them come to him, pushing at the magic and praying to anyone who might be kind enough to listen. There’s a flash of light, and Blue braces himself for the momentarily disorienting experience of becoming One, of having himself overwritten as a part from which the sum is made.

So we know from chapter 53 in particular that Vio has not great self imagery. like not at all. His thoughts of becoming one is summarized in that “believing that to not be would be better than being”. Blue, on the other hand, doesn’t have that thought. It’s a bit more vague, but it’s still enough to notice that merging seems to feel different for all the colors (or at the very least Blue and Vio have different interpretations).

The 2 gems on Red’s sword are glowing, and for the rest its just 1. I didn’t know that was a Thing until chapter 53. so here is my thought: where do the colors come from, actually? This chapter is implying that they are an extension of their swords. Are they physical magic, forced into a ‘body’? So hear me out on this one because I went and reread some of the other chapters to formulate this theory (i am coping hard).

What if: Red isn’t dead. He’s not alive, but not dead. Chapter 41: “Sky sees now, with horrible clarity, the similarity between the glow of the twin gemstones set in the pommel and cross guard of the sword, ruby red like his eyes were, and the sky blue pulsing light of Fi’s consciousness (...) Sky does not know if Red is conscious, if he is aware. He does not even know if he even is anymore. He knows only that Red is dead, and whatever remains of him is inside of that blade.”

First time I read this I was still in tears about Red dying so it didn’t make sense. I’ll be coming back to this theory later but for now let’s leave it at ‘red might not be fully dead he might just be in a coma’.

footnote 5: christ time travel makes my head hurt. i’m looking at it i promise i’m looking at it but the brain is rejecting the knowledge like gas station sushi.

footnote 6: FOUR SWORDS MANGA MENTIONED

footnote 7: ‘magical intervention for dead patients’ you mean the fucking necromancy

footnote 8: thesaurus dot com save me /reference

“What does he think? Of the situation? Of the idea that he has to live like this indefinitely? Of the reality in which Vio lives? Of the fact that this has happened twice now?”

Thoughts are stored in the Vio. the ‘twice now’ really hits hard. going to have a cry break again.

footnote 9: SHIT there isn’t a body either time. both times there’s some Item left behind; the shattered Dark Mirror, Red’s sword. but that’s not enough. good grief this is some trauma

remember the theory i literally just mentioned? here’s another point. I’m unsure how much of FSA manga is canon to adjuration (ik its not canon in LU shut up) but at the end we see very well that Shadow is still alive-ish.

Now hear me out: what if this is the same situation for Red? Alive, but no longer able to interact with the real world? Palace of the Four Sword lore from the Ravio cooking show?? put a pin in it we’re coming back later

““I think that creating a chain of alternative realities would be exactly the kind of thing I’d do to get them back. I think that I’d do whatever it takes, break whatever it takes, until all five of us, were together and home, and safe.” Green nods, and Vio knows that he has been overruled. “We go forward, into whatever fate awaits. We’re going to find who did this, and we’re going to kill them.””

Green doesn’t even ask Blue, now that i’m looking at it. that probably spurred a fight at some point off screen?? Also Vio mentioning five here!! and nobody questions it! I’m guessing they think Vio is out of it because Red is dead and that’s why nobody asked. remember this quote it’s going to be important later.

footnote 10: Green can’t lie? i’m gonna have to reread a bit to see that in a new light. Does Green actually want Shadow back? i hope so i think that would be cool.

“Vio nods. Wind can touch him. Wind is kind, Wind is safe. Wind is robed in blue and just as lovingly violent. Wind is a known quantity.”

Blue is also called a protector multiple times in this chapter and i think thats sweet. bittersweet, but sweet. stark contrast to Vio’s opinion in footnote 6 and between footnotes 3-4.vio honey the opinions aren’t staying in those boxes you made you need a U-haul.

footnote 11: i love these domestic colors moments they’re so. good

““I need you to get your shit together, can you do that for me?” Directions unclear, too broad.”

i am not going to make the joke i am Not going to make the joke

footnote 12: never even watched lttp gameplay but i looked it up just for this footnote. rosetta stone hylian edition real

footnote 13: seeing red. i see what you did there.

““...we lost Blue?” Not another, not a third, Vio can’t do this again, he can’t see that again.”

Green pea please be more specific you aren’t helping things. Considering that just a few paragraphs ago Vio was calling Blue their guardian, I would like to think that Vio is instantly going worst case scenario. and who can blame him, really?

footnote 14: heehoo shadow got thanos snapped, more trauma on the vio boat

footnote 15: I’m not sure how much minish cap is in Adjuration lore but him training at a young age makes him being picked to repair the picori blade more reasonable. because why else would you send a child into the wilderness without any help. he got like 2 years of training He’s Fine.

footnote 16: footnote 84 callback

“Wind is blue and water, and he feels just like a big brother should. (...) Green has his voice, has blown it away with his already made up mind.”

More elemental imagery for the colors! And its also being applied to Wind, who wears Blue, and is being compared to Blue.

footnote 17: i couldn’t find any reference of something called a ‘tracking hawk’ other than something that happens in twilight princess apparently? so maybe that’s what this is referencing.

footnote 18: hesitation to smash the Dark Mirror shaking hands with hesitation to put the Four Sword back in its pedestal? also your daily reminder that in the manga TINGLE contributes to why Vio didn’t smash the mirror

footnote 19: is this Blue perception in the memory? about the ice? maybe.

footnote 20: vio picture perfect memory canon.

“A flash of blue. Blue? No, Wind, screaming and disemboweling a moblin three times his size, an unmoving obstacle between Vio and what had been his certain death.”

From chapter 42: “The rest of them all be fucking damned, Wind is getting Vio out of this alive.”

just figured this little nod to that would be important to point out. Wind goes big brother mode and I’m here for it.

footnote 21: tragedy + time = comedy reference maybe? I figure Blue has had some time to cool down by killing monsters, so that’s probably why he’s able to muster a joke. if it was even on purpose

footnote 22: A field guide on first aid would honestly be really good for the colors/Link to know. especially if minish cap is fully in Adjuration canon. I don’t know how well Ezlo would be for administering hylian first aid in the field.

footnote 23: from FSA manga, vio: “Because I was ‘the smart one’ I thought I was always right. I learned ‘smart’ and ‘wise’ aren’t always the same’. Concussion is definitely going to put some struggle on the braincell.

footnote 24: Is Vio the only color capable of lying?

“Vio sighs, and melts into the warmth, the scent of the Dark. It is familiar and it is safe and he is free to go away.”

THE Dark? Implication that there’s only One Type, so. scratch whatever nonsense I was on earlier about there maybe being different types of Dark, ig.

footnote 25: MINISH CAP MENTIONED!!!!!!!!!

footnote 26: more domestic color moments. Is their home labeled ‘four’? I’m assuming it is because there is an ‘r’ and ‘u’ and each color is painting 1 letter.

theory number three time: what the piss is going on at four’s house. from chapter 44: “Even still, Legend could swear that he saw the handle turn as he drops.” and then chapter 53: “Even still, Vio knows that he sees the door handle turn.” we have 2 inbetween footnotes to go through really quick and then we’re theorizing again.

footnote 27: more fodder for the theory of the colors just being their swords, I think!

footnote 28: wonder which of the colors is the most attuned to magic. maybe vio?

alright its THEORY NUMBER THREE FOR REAL TIME MOTHERFUCKERS THIS IS WHERE I GO CRAZY

“Something Dark and familiar crawls like a shiver up his spine.”

Vio knows Dark magic, okay I think we all understand that. He knows Twilight has Dark magic, the Dark Mirror was Dark magic, Shadow was Dark magic. what in the hell is dark magic inside the color’s home? no clue! this is where my theory comes in (it’s a two in one deal)

theory 3.1: Shadow is going to be revived at some point. The Dark magic is familiar to Vio because it’s Shadow, and Vio knows Shadow’s magic. Is Shadow playing tug of war with Dink to bring the colors home? How would he return from the dead? What time even is it in Four’s era at this 10 second pitstop? This is where I think that this is maybe during the late, LATE part of their adventure through time. but the gist is Shadow is somehow alive and is trying and failing to draw anything other than an uno reverse card.

from chapter 45: ““Odd, that. It’s not like there’s anything interesting in there. We tore the whole place apart after the first time. It’s just a small town forge.””

we will bring this back up at the Ravio hour. everything comes up at the ravio hour.

theory 3.2: its Vio from the future. when we get to the Ravio Insanity I’ll get more into this, but we need to go back to this line from chapter 53: “I think that creating a chain of alternative realities would be exactly the kind of thing I’d do to get them back. I think that I’d do whatever it takes, break whatever it takes, until all five of us, were together and home, and safe.” Maybe this is Future Vio making good on his word. ripping apart time and space alike for a CHANCE to save Red.

footnote 29: legend is royalty Adjuration canon?

footnote 30: vio gaslighting hour, but he’s only gaslighting himself. from FSA manga Vio says: “But as a hero, I never strayed from my hopes and goals.” He calls himself a hero here, but then laments about it later. Plus he doesn’t seem happy during the whole confrontation sooooo

footnote 31: fourth edition hehehe

footnote 32: So Blue is to blame for the color’s haircut? I am so deep into brainworms I can’t remember if Four’s eyes changed colors or not.

““He’s got like thirty books crammed in here, where has he been getting them all?””

i love Green and Blue doing their best to bring Vio back to them. rise and shine gamer you need to read your concussion away.

footnote 33: existential crisis from footnote 27

footnote 34: excellent word choice Blue

“Vio pulls the book up, out of the bag and into his lap. It’s heavy and leather bound, with a metalwork crescent moon on the cover. A present from Ravio. (...) Ravio who insists at some point in their future, Vio will want to shatter a Light spell.”

remember theory 1? about Red not being dead? here’s more food for this theory. Four is also called the Hero of Light. A Light Spell. The Four Sword is made to cleave through the darkness (chapter 52). To shatter a Light Spell might be them trying to bring Red back from limbo. if he is in limbo. i hope he’s just in limbo.

“His brothers are both in their usual positions relative to him when they sit like this, the empty space where Red ought to be gaping like a wound.”

you did not have to hurt me like this

footnote 35: Dark Mirror related trauma hours part TWO!!!!

footnote 36: and then it pivots right back from me tearing up to cackling about Shadow and Vio antics. I wonder what word Vio said here to make Shadow confused.

footnote 37: looking at shattering a Light Spell. looking at the magic of the Four Sword. if the Light spell Vio wants to shatter really is Red’s sword, the fact that Four is a blacksmith just might be what saves the situation

“The book is tugged from his hands and Blue’s own, cold and calloused, take hold.”

Are Blue’s hands permanently cold from being frozen? I know there’s been ice and water imagery in the past with Blue but this would be neat. Also did Blue and Green also see the note Ravio left (Don’t let anyone but you Four see this) and that’s why Blue is taking the book away?

footnote 38: we love character insight!! we love link knowing that a custom product tailored to the horse is better than a one size fits all mold!! hell yeah!

“Vi watches as Blue’s expression ices over.”

More ice imagery, this time with Wind present! Wind is sticking up for Vio like the big brother he is. And from chapter 45 we know that Wind most likely just finished telling Sky off about not being okay, too, so he is just picking up Red’s place as therapist I guess!

39: more important possible minish cap or just adventure in general books to have read

“Wind is curled into the front of him, blankets tangled up in the boy’s legs. Vio twists in place, spinning to face Blue. His brother is still in his sleep, face softer than it ever is when he’s conscious. Red’s sword creating a barrier between them, laid in its scabbard (Blue’s scabbard, they have to get him a new one just for him now) on the bedding, Blue’s fingers held fast to the hilt. Where’s Green?”

I skimmed through chapter 45-46 and I didn’t see any mention of where Green is at this point so I’m not sure where he is. But Wind is in on the cuddling and I’m here for it. And also… Red’s sword is still in the pile. Is there symbolism behind Red’s sword being between Vio and Blue? About how Blue is using the voice reserved for Red for Vio, now?

footnote 40: thinking this is pre minish cap, I think link already has a scabbard when he starts that journey.

“The boy gently presses them to Vio’s temples, and it is warm and loving and wild and red.”

All of those adjectives are applicable to Red. food for thought.

“Vio looks back down at the book in his hands. Not Ravio’s, good. His brothers aren’t that stupid, thank Hylia.”

So here I think the other colors have seen the note Ravio left them. I don’t know if they’ve discussed anything about it or not. or maybe they don’t know and its only Vio?

footnote 41: concussion

footnote 42: book (yeah I don’t have much to say for these two footnotes)

“The fire is warm and the floor is hard under his shoulder blades as he stares up at the ceiling, Blue on one side, Wind on the other.”

Wind is shoving Green out of the equation I think. I feel like this animosity will probably become important later but so far I don’t think anythings happened.

footnote 43: I know nothing about coffee so I really don’t know what this footnote is about, but Red is precious as always.

footnote 44: BODY LANGUAGE FOR DUMMIES i cackled when i saw that

“Green visibly chews that idea over in his mind, probably working overtime to have an original thought.” Compared to chapter 46: “Green frowns, starting to mentally replay every interaction that he has had with Legend. The universe, or fate, or… Hylia, maybe the Goddess herself decides that that is enough thinking for him today, because that is when the portal opens.”

footnote 45: “Not that Shadow's pressence here is strange, but for the first time, Vio didn't sense him coming. The alarms didn't start going off. He was woken by a physical touch, not warned seconds before by the indescribable feeling of wrong that slithers up his spine whenever this boy gets too close.”

WE ARE GOING TO BE COMING BACK TO THIS FOOTNOTE KEEP IT IN YOUR BRAINS FOLKS

footnote 46: Sky is arguing with Green, and then it references the downfall of Skyloft. beans

footnote 47: arson is the answer. arson is always the answer.

““Walk away before I break your nose again.” His protector says this as casually as if he were listing off how many nails they needed to make that week.”

Blue is (as the quote says) protecting Vio here. which is sweet. Blue broke Green’s nose back at the ranch (chapter 46)

footnote 48: Dark Mirror shattering reference? I wonder how long after the adventure this is. Also we know one set of the footsteps is Blue, but who’s the other?

footnote 49: A feeling of something Dark, something wrong slithers with a shiver up his spine. Vio looks up, and sihloutted in the moonlight, there is a boy in a tree.

WE’RE COMING BACK TO THIS ONE TOO.

footnote 50: honestly surprised its not a plastic plant but this is arguably funnier

““Hyrule says a big fight is heading our way. We aren’t going to be able to keep you out of it.””

We’re at chapter 47 now!

footnote 51: considering how Easy the bow is to use in FSA this footnote makes a lot of sense.

footnote 52: multivariable calculus and ‘simple straightforward’ do not belong in the same sentence vio what the shit.

footnote 53: in the manga vio is shown to load 2 arrows at once, so yeah archery being preferred makes sense to me!

footnote 54: blacksmith fun!

footnote 55: god i fucking hate geometry all my homies hate geometry

footnote 56: MINISH!!!!

footnote 57: john mulaney reference?? also grandpa and the colors! wonder where Four’s father went

“Vio nearly laughs at the realization that all of that pain and suffering could have been avoided if they had simply gone through in pieces every time. And he’s supposed to be the smart one.”

They’ve been through a few portals since Red’s death by now, so the fact that he’s only noticing this now speaks volumes to how… mm, withdrawn into himself he’s been.

“Vio stares at the portal itself, considering. Hyrule made this. He didn’t know that was something that one of them could just do. (...) Vio slides his hand into his own pack, feeling around until he makes contact with the book Ravio gave him, finger tracing delicately around the thin ornamentation. All this time, he has had the directions for non-paradoxical time travel literally in his fucking pocket.”

hey remember theory 3.2? this might be where Vio gets the idea that he can do this sort of thing.

revision glowmin here: for some reason footnote 58 got deleted. So here it is! Vio does in fact look smug.

““How long have you known that Red was going to die?” Vio aks, voice as hard and unfeeling as stone.”

More earth elemental imagery for Vio!

“Ravio flinches, not meeting Vio’s stare. “The eighth,” he practically whispers, as if confessing to a crime.”

I know I mentioned this in my Ravio Board Analysis but the Link To Ravio timeline traveling being nonlinear makes my brain hurt and I cry.

footnote 59: Vio would forgo reading to watch Blue and Vio spar (?) so you know its good stuff

““So don’t. Because I’m sorry Legend, but I’m going to have to kill your husband now.” Blue says this as gently and steady as a summer rain.”

graduated cylinder homophobia

footnote 60: the stark comparison between Blue’s playful sparring with green (footnote 59) and the dance fight with Red (this footnote) really makes him going for Legend look like murder. which. was the point but you know what I mean

footnote 61: I am 90% sure this scene happens right after Shadow disguises himself as Vio in order to get the other colors to actually fight Vaati effectively. We don’t see which direction Shadow leaves and Vio enters from, but it is possible that its the same direction. and the next time we see Shadow he is limping, so,,,, yeah.

“(...) Blue flips his grip on Red’s sword and slams the pommel into Legend’s nose, which Legend answers with a shield bash of his own right to his brother’s face. Vio hopes it hurts.”

This strikes me as a bit odd since Vio has been calling Blue ‘protector’ and ‘guardian’ throughout this chapter, albeit with pauses of dismissing him for brashness. Perhaps its because of the note Ravio left in that book, and the knowledge that in the future he wants to shatter a Light spell? And in order to do that Ravio must still be alive, so that’s my reasoning on why Vio wants Blue to hurt.

footnote 62: MINISH CAP MENTIONED also this must be before the minish cap journey because I think after that any attempt to say Link is ‘too old for that nonsense’ is thrown out the window.

footnote 63: vidow (metal pipe sound effect)

““Captain,” he says, walking over to him first. “This is from him.” (...) A room full of eyes on him, Vio tears open the envelope and carefully pulls out the single scrap of paper. (...) ‘You’re going to have to trust me, Violet. And you’re going to have to prove you’re as good a liar as he says you are. I’m trying to help all Five of you. -Not a hypocrite, either.’”

WE’RE HERE ITS TIME FOR THE THEORIES TO COME ROLLING. YOU REMEMBER THE FOOTNOTES I TOLD YOU TO REMEMBER? THEY’RE COMING IN NOW.

back to back here we have the mentioning of a ‘he/him’. I think its pretty clear that when Ravio is addressing Warriors, he’s referring to Wind in the future. Wind hasn’t gone to the War of Eras yet, and he gets called some weather nicknames in chapter 52 (“That crazy little hurricane who knew more than any person should, and was drowning in the weight of all that unwanted wisdom.” (...) “kidnapping people like my poor self and that damn riptide.”)

So that begs the question: who is the ‘he’ Ravio is mentioning in his letter to Vio? Is this future Wind? I see two possibilities, and so I raise you theory 3.2.1: Wind is the one who is helping future Vio rip holes in the fabric of time. You remember right before footnote 10, where Vio mentions five instead of four? Maybe this is where Wind would get the ‘five’ from when describing things to Ravio. Not super important I think but it is absolutely worth mentioning.

now I hope you’re ready for my insanity folks!

The line ‘not a hypocrite either’ leads me to believe that Ravio is referring to himself and Legend. Ravio is Legend’s dark world counterpart, just as Shadow is Four’s. To imply that he is not a hypocrite means that Ravio knows of Shadow’s existence. More than that, he knows of Vio and Shadow’s relationship.

Now I’ve reread Adjuration 3x now and Legend has completed the Palace of the Four Sword (chapter 24: “I FUCKING KNEW IT!” Legend’s mouth moves faster than his brain for once in his life, and he winces, but goes with it. “I knew I recognized that damn sword.”) My running theory is that perhaps the Palace of the Four Sword being in the Dark World is what could possibly lead to Shadow being revived. let me explain.

in the board of madness of chapter 49, we get the timeline of the visits. Chapter 49 is visit 8 for Ravio. It is the only one thats black. For Ravio, he apparently learns who Shadow is BEFORE he learns who Red is. The visit for when he learns about Shadow (visit 8 ravio visit 6 links) is yet to happen in Adjuration. There’s 1 more visit between visit 2 ravio visit 8 links (visit 6 ravio visit 7 links) so SOMETHING is going to happen between the next 2 visits, i guarantee it. My theory? Control is going to be waived from Dink (if only slightly) and he is going to Get Pissed. More on that later but first: who’s at the forge.

Each time Shadow’s magic/Dark magic is addressed by Vio, it is done in a similar way. Chapter 53: “The power of them thrums, climes up Vio’s spine in a way that is so very familiar.” “Something Dark and familiar crawls like a shiver up his spine.” “He was woken by a physical touch, not warned seconds before by the indescribable feeling of wrong that slithers up his spine whenever this boy gets too close.” “A feeling of something Dark, something wrong slithers with a shiver up his spine.”

Every. Single. Time. Dark magic is either called ‘familiar’ or ‘wrong’, and it sometimes causes Vio to shiver. There is some force of Dark magic attempting to bring the chain to Four’s forge. It is that line about it being familiar when they drop in their most recent visit that leads me to believe that it is Shadow. How is it Shadow? Freyja confirmed that Shadow is 100% dead at the end of the events of the manga, so we know he’s dead. I have almost zero basis for this but I have a Theory (this logic is solely going off of the “Entity in the Forge” vibes).

In chapter 24, we get insight on the Palace of the Four Sword from Legend. “Don’t think about where he saw it the first time, don’t picture Four like that , don’t think about the malice and the stench of death, the black magic and the hatred rolling off the blade in waves. Fight now. Panic later.”

Is there a difference between black magic and Dark magic? I don’t know enough Zelda lore to say for certain. What we do know is that Legend is from Four’s future. Time travel confusion aside, in a Link to the Past, there is a copy of Red. What I think is going on here is that the Palace of the Four Sword being in the Dark World is perhaps a catalyst to revive Shadow. He came from the Dark Mirror after all; surely that much Dark magic in one place would be good for this sort of thing? The hatred is a bit concerning but I think a little anger is good as a treat.

How does he get back to his proper time period? Cia’s spellbook, I think. I truly honestly 85% believe that the tug of war here is between Shadow and Dink/the Yiga Clan. From tumblr, we have the list of the chain as follows: Sky, Four, Red, Green, Blue, Vio, Time, Legend, Hyrule, Wind, Twilight, Warriors, Wild, and then a redaction of a member.

(brief pause by revision glowmin here: the distinction of Four being different than the RGBV is a neat detail)

As far as I know there’s only a few options that this 14th Link could be. It could be the link from Spirit Tracks; unless Adjuration Wind also has that adventure. It could possibly be the Ancient hero from BOTW, the one shown on the tapestry and then in the Hero’s Aspect in TOTK. It could be the first ever Link, the one before Sky. Or it could be Shadow. I don’t think any of these four options deal with Dark magic other than Shadow.

There’s also my other theory that it’s Vio (and possibly Future Wind?). Vio has already made it clear that he will do whatever it takes (confirmed by freyja via tumblr: “Vio is willing to get his hands dirty. Vio is willing to shatter fragile things. Vio has nothing left to loose.”) I’ll bet my stockpile of gummy worms that the other 15% is this scenario. (“He doesn’t need to. For the five of them, there is no price too high, no cost too great. He’s going to do whatever it takes.”)

(revision glowmin again. no cost too great? hollow knight moment.)

Now let’s talk about the Yiga Clan for a bit. I want to strangle them like a wet sock. They’re like the Eyes of Ganon that Hyrule talks about sometimes. I know little about them, but the point is that their goals are the same: kill the hero to revive Ganon. For the Eyes, its Hyrule, because they need his blood. For the Yiga Clan, it’s Wild, because… well, he killed Ganon and its revenge time.

I think the reason the Yiga Clan are so against the chain being in Four’s era for more than a few seconds (other than the fact that they’re not the ones taking the chain there) is related to Ravio’s thesis. “His era might not be poison to Darkness the way that Sky’s is, but it’s too closely guarded.”

If the chain wind up in Four’s era, and the Yiga can’t wrangle them back, Dink might lost control of the ordeal. For the most part it seems like he’s been the one picking and choosing where the portals will lead the heroes. (“The Captain arches an eyebrow, “Who are the other players?” / “Hylia, The Yiga clan, and Hyrule, though he has hesitated to take his turns, for starters.””)If he lost that control, I feel like it would be a spiral of madness as he goes off script to get them back under his thumb.

For the silly, how I’ve been coping with the angst has been that Red and Shadow are 2 ghosts following the Chain around and just watching all this shit go down. Canon? 99% sure that’s not the case, but it sure would be funny! i drew a little something to commemorate this coping mechanism.

okay. ramblings and thoerizationings are over (I probably repeated myself way too much). tldr: there’s plausible cause for the dark entity at Four’s forge to be Shadow, but it could also possibly be Vio from the future/near the end of the journey. Whoever it is, they’re threatening to remove some of Dink’s control of the situation and that might Escalate Conflict. The Palace of the Four Sword is important to a possible Red revival (and maybe Shadow)! I am never going to emotionally recover from this.

back to your regularly scheduled analysis that is probably going to go off the walls again.

footnote 64: again: if Four had been named Bob and not Link, would the Minish have had to pick a different hero? I wonder what reasoning Four’s father had for naming him after the king, anyways.

footnote 65: Ravio and Legend’s dynamics being directly related to Vio and Shadow. More correlation of Ravio saying he’s ‘not a hypocrite either’.

footnote 66: domestic color antics. Blue screaming that he’s going to kill Red, starkly contrasting with how Blue reacted when Red actually died. We know that Blue was exaggerating here in the flashback but it’s here, so its getting mentioned.

“Vio gets up, leaving them to it in order to get a better view of Ravio’s notes. It’s not hard to follow. The Timeline in the middle, their lives in bullet points on one end, their visits to this era in history on the other.”

Vio sweetie I don’t understand the visits to the Ravio Center. at least he gets it so good for him I guess.

“Wind marches over, frowning. “What are you - oh.” The sailor frowns as he takes it all in. “Why is my name all over this?” / Green blinks. “That’s what I was asking you.””

The revisitation of the animosity growing between Green and Wind!

footnote 67: Not sure when this flashback takes place, but I’m assuming its shortly after Shadow’s death?

footnote 68: There is a lot of. unrest in the chain because of Red’s death. Twilight gets outed as Wolfie, the colors are in shambles, Green and Wind are fighting, Twilight and Wild are not having good terms, the Fierce Deity is brought out, etc etc it is a Shit Show.

rapid fire footnote time

footnote 69: Legend just said that he might not stop Blue from killing Ravio this time. This is, of course, comparable to how the last thing Vio said to Red was to spit in his face. which is what this footnote is a recap of.

footnote 70: projection moment

footnote 71: Shadow gets blasted to bits

footnote 72: I believe this is a callback to footnote 48

footnote 73: More broken glass imagery back to back. Vio pointing out that for the next two visits that happen for Ravio is going to be when he possibly learns who Shadow is, and a better understanding of Red. I think. the timeline of the Ravio Hours hurts my head.

footnote 74: WHO IS THE HE. we already went over this but I’m bringing it up again. Wind or Shadow, I’m placing my bets.

footnote 75: Red again reassuring Vio about Shadow, and about how they all would like him back. Which is, again, making Vio spitting at Red right before he dies all the worse.

footnote 76: “Green on the other hand, feels nothing but the desire to get this over with.” Now that I’ve given it more thought, I don’t think this is ‘hee hoo Green is Diet Link’. I think Green is still feeling unnerved about it (see footnote 1), but its perhaps muddled over him trying to keep the others from backing out.

footnote 77: of course vio knows statistics

footnote 78: Vio calling himself a traitor here, I think is an implication of how he considers himself a villain but… if he’s a traitor to Shadow, who is the ‘villain’ here, at the very least it’s morally grey territory. i think. i don’t know man

footnote 79: I believe this also happens right after footnote 48

footnote 80: Okay but the fact that this is ‘twice will happen thrice’. This has happened twice to Vio (Shadow and Red). The third time would be Ravio.

footnote 81: Wind specifically being mentioned here is important I think. I don’t know why its important but it feels important. especially since he was the one who stood up to Green.

footnote 82: crying

“Vio freezes, words going still in his throat as they choke him. He’s getting overly emotional. He’s getting worked up. His feelings are trying to exhume themselves.”

I feel like this is a direct callback to the start of the chapter. Vio says that he can put all his emotions into boxes to save them for when he becomes One. I think the boxes are beginning to overflow.

footnote 84: another continuation of footnote 48, 72, and 79 I think.

footnote 85: Vio throwing shade at Green

footnote 86: blue performed a whoopsies

footnote 87: Derealization moment I think. Which honestly, yeah with all the screaming going on in this scene I can. yeah.

“Vio turns and sees Wild, lowering a serving tray down, upon which rests four cups full of steaming tea.”

Four cups, but I think in this case the four are Vio, Blue, Green, and Sky. I don’t think there’s anyone else in this part of the conversation.

footnote 88: IMPORTANT!! IMPORTANT SHIT HERE!! SOUND THE ALARMS. Not only is it a title drop, but we also have Shadow beginning to understand that he can be more than just one thing. He was created by Ganon to be evil, yes, but then in the manga Zelda tells him that he is as much a hero as the colors are. I think this is a scene that will come into play later if the entity at the forge is in fact Shadow. or if there’s any future Shadow related plot points.

footnote 89: I think Vio might be the only color capable of lying. In chapter 53 we hear that Blue nor Green can (or are good at) lying. Red being able to lie isn’t brought up, but I’d assume it to be the same scenario.

footnote 90: quote straight out of the manga

“Everyone else moves an instant after Legend’s fist crashes into Wild’s eye, to pull them apart or join in the fight, Vio isn’t sure.”

Here we learn that Legend punches Wild! I’m pretty sure this is where his knuckles get injured, and its the wound Hyrule’s blood heals.

footnote 91: Shadow dies and then Ganon shows up, so it is… a situation, that’s for sure! Unless Adjuration takes a different spin on that part of the manga. Vio calling himself a villain again is also important because he does not define himself as a hero.

““I’m not letting go of Red,” Blue says, as passive a threat as a sheet of ice above a turbulent river. “Take me if you need to, but not Red.””

It seems like all of the colors understand now that they are (?) their swords. He’s telling Warriors to take himself, but not Red, in reference to disarming. Also, more ice and water symbolism!

footnote 92: ‘singular point of light’. I feel like this might be a contribution to shattering a Light spell

footnote 93: fire imagery for Red!

footnote 94: IT WAS THE WORD FOUR. okay good I wasn’t tripping. I think the black paint here is for Shadow. And since its Link doing this, I think that it is proof that its not just Vio who wants Shadow back but rather All the colors.

footnote 95: callbacks to all the training flashbacks of Link and his father, I think

footnote 96: Ravio says that Four does not fail, and then the footnote is a flashback of him failing to exist after merging back together for the first time. short king stay winning

footnote 97: MINISH CAP MENTIONED. but also ‘happy and warm and safe and red’.... more Red imagery

footnote 98: I think this must be shortly before the adventure begins. Link isn’t split, but he knows that he is able to. So it has to be after the Four Sword is removed from the seal, but before the journey starts else he’d probably be addressed as Four here.

““But we keep going there, so it’s not entirely out of the running?” Warriors asks, trying to make sense of the plot. / “It wasn’t, but it is now.” Ravio sighs. “Dink isn’t sending you there, he isn’t going there if he can help it. The risks far outweigh the benefits.”

refer back to my deranged ramblings about Dink losing a smidgen of control of the situation in regards to this quote.

footnote 99: More wondering of how Ravio learns there’s 5 instead of 4. It’s not mentioned in the Palace of the Four Sword as far as I’m aware

footnote 100: again I am pointing at my deranged ramblings above.

footnote 101: In comparison to Green wanting to get it over with, Link being entirely in agreement to split again here is important. The seal will hold for years, they have time to exist. Why spend that time needlessly suffering?

footnote 102: I would ALSO like to know what happened to the Four Sword Ravio. also cute nickname hours and domestic color times.

footnote 103: MINISH CAP CALLBACK to Zelda and Link being childhood friends. It’s also a FS manga callback but shhhh

““The fate of the Four Sword is not relevant to the mission at hand… Captain.””

The hesitation here. I think it means something. I feel as if its to be directed at someone else (maybe Vio?) that this point of the story isn’t important yet.

footnote 104: And here’s the distinction between Four and the colors, in the 14 links guide.

footnote 105: Green is not Diet Link and we all will die on this hill

“One revelation at a time, Ravio chips away at the stone of Vio’s heart.”

More earth elemental imagery for Vio

footnote 106: (we did it we made it to the last one holy shit.) and of course the last footnote is domestic color moments, and its just… so bittersweet.

““Hey Vio? Can you finish this for me?” Ravio calls him back to the real world. He’s kneeling over a small pile of books, pointing to the righted bookcase by the front door. “I need to check on someone.””

This is absolutely done on purpose. “Between History of Masks and Hytopian History of High Fashion, entirely unassuming, is Cia’s spellbook.” There is absolutely zero way that this part, getting Vio to see Cia’s book here, was not intentionally orchestrated by Ravio.

“What this Palace could be Vio has no idea, yet he thinks the answer to both questions might be one and the same.”

alright we did it. we finished the play by play. a few wrap up thoughts and then class is dismissed.

ranking my theories based on how probable I think they are.

1: Shadow is the one at the forge.

2: Wind and Green’s animosity is going to become a key point later on.

3: The ‘he’ mentioned in Ravio’s letter to Vio is Shadow.

4: The ‘he’ mentioned in Ravio’s letter to Vio is Wind from after the War of Ages.

5: Future Vio is the one at the forge.

6: Future Vio is being assisted by future Wind at the forge.

7: Cia’s spellbook is going to corrupt the colors, leading to the versions of the colors that Legend fights. Could possibly be an alternate timeline

8: The Palace of the Four Sword was put in the Dark World by malicious forces to keep the chain from getting something important out of there.

overall this chapter absolutely demolished my mental state metaphorically and literally. revision glowmin will return at a later time to maybe make this more coherent but I unfortunately sold my braincell already. i heart adjuration but it needs to start paying rent.

#glow whispers and junk #this is an adjuration #im normal about this i swear i promise im normal about this #i might tidy this up later but... i needed to get the thoughts out #final wordcount is like 8k. christ

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dadfuckerfest · 10 months

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Look what we found in Dad’s journal!

Weird.

Anyway, the Man writes like Yoda, but here is what we figured out:

1. What the fuck is a “Dadfucker Fest”?

It’s a weekend dedicated to the “fucking” part of Dadfucking.

2. How can someone contribute to this most wonderful and noble cause?

Give us porn! Remember, Dad wasn’t exactly a monk, and Dean gave him everything he’s ever had. All you have to do is write (or draw or edit) some dadsex and mention @dadfuckerfest and/or tag #dadfuckerfest (mentions are preferred, for consistency and notifications). We’ll reblog it to this page to share with your fellow dadfuckers and to save for posterity!

3. Wait, is it just John/Dean? What about [other canon/original character]?

Characters and ships other than John/Dean are most welcome! However, your work still has to be about J/D to some degree. This means threesomes, gangbangs, third-party POVs, role-play, J/D by-proxy, unrequited fantasies are a-okay. You can find some examples here. If you’re still unsure if something is allowed, feel free to ask for clarification. (Though to be honest, we’re not very picky over here.)

4.When is this dadsex going down?

When is it not going down?! Feel free to start working on your daddycestuous fic/art and sharing it as soon as you like. However, works will be reblogged to this blog on Friday, July 28th through Sunday, July 30th.

5. What’s with the day-by-day break-down?

Think of the day-by-day break-down as our reblog calendar, to help us categorize your works. Or if you like, think of them as very optional, not-at-all-serious “themes.” They are as follows: * Friday July 28th: (Pre-)Canon — i.e. the m/m J/D of our main timeline. * Saturday July 29th: Alternate Universe/Curses/Other Weird Shit— incl. genderswaps, John survives AUs, no-supernatural AUs, fuck-or-die, possession, Huntercorp, time-travel, monsterfucking, omega!verse, prequel AU, whatever your sicko heart desires! * Sunday July 30th: Kink — what it says on the tin: give us some kinky shit. As you can tell, the line between canon and AU is very blurry, and J/D can be kinky in any world. So don’t worry too much about sticking to themes – chances are, your work will fit in at least one of these days.

6. What about prompts?

Flip over to pg. 10 for instruction, and pg.11 for the list.

7. I don’t like any of the prompts and I want to freeball and/or rawdog it.

We see what you did there! Submissions need not be in response to a prompt. This is your chance to finish (or start!) some wips, to distill a story idea to its sexy essence without worrying about plot or worldbuilding, to turn a DFF ask into a little scene, etc. etc. Once again, as long as it’s J/D and porny we will take it!

More lore under the cut!

8. What is the desired porn-to-plot ratio?

As long as there is (a little, a hint of) fucking, we’ll take it! If you feel like you need plot to make your story work better/more enjoyable for *you*, please inject as much as you’d like.

9. How long should a fic submission be?

As long as tickles your pickle! You probably won’t get a lot of fucking done under 500 words, but feel free to prove us wrong.

10. I want you to reblog my stuff but this event name is very cringe and I don’t want to mention it.

A. Fuck you! B. You can notify us in other ways of your desire to share your filthy disgusting porn (e.g. dms, mention us in a reply, carrier pigeon, etc.)

11. John/Dean is so very sexy, but I’m shy and I don’t want to post on main. (This is NOT Jensen Ackles, by the way.)

They are the sexiest! You can post your work anonymously on ao3 and send us a link. You can also create a new tumblr account using a new email address and use that to share your wonderful daddycestuous creations. (If need be, we can also discuss email submissions).

12. Can my fic/art be used for another event?

Sure! As long as it hasn’t been published before.

13. Is non-con allowed?

Yes, but please give some heads-up in the tags or in the beginning of the fic.

14. Is under-age allowed?

See above.

15. I really want to participate but the timing doesn’t work for me.

No worries! a) Remember, you have two weeks from today to post whatever your heart desires. b) The point of this event is that it’s low stakes and there isn’t a lot of prep work required, which means theoretically we can have more than one round! If enough people want to participate again, we can definitely have a repeat later this summer/in the fall, etc. (Also, we always take late submissions!)

16. Who is the fucker behind the curtain?

Hi, it’s @egipci! Please feel free to send me any questions here or on my main blog!

17. We haven’t talked before/we don’t follow each other/I don’t like you. Can I still participate?

(Un)lucky for you, I love J/D about 1000x more than you don’t like me. As long as I can reblog your work to this blog, I will!

18. Your graphics suck! Our eyes are bleeding! Are you making this shit on a toaster?

Actually, I’m making it on an DIY busted-up Walkman-cum-toaster. If you got some better nerd instruments and you want to put them to good use, hit me up!

#about #dadfuckerfest #dadfucker friday #deanjohn #johndean #edited for clarity re prompts

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areweevercameraready · 1 year

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more than beliefs (9: gaston)

A/N: bro grad school is kicking my ASS!! and it's my last week at my current job!!! thank fuck !! it's been a horrible few months!! but we've got it !! we're in it to win it !! and honestly as long as i'm updating chapters before thomas puts out the next vid, i'm fine LOL

WARNINGS: Imagination-induced-amnesia, blunt force trauma, some light scheming, conceptual self-harm — we're really getting into the violence now. if I've missed anything, please let me know!!

Words: 4,110

here it is on AO3!

here is the masterpost! be aware that this is the sequel to chivalry is dead, which you can find more about here!

When the Playwright opened his eyes, he found that it was remarkably difficult to see. Things were quite blurry and one of his eyes was covered with something, such that even when he opened it a crack, all he saw was darkness. And it was not too comforting. Maybe he was designed with one eye? He couldn’t remember.

There’s….a lot he doesn’t remember. Had he just formed? He felt like…he knew some things. He’s the Playwright. He knew that much. And he knew he could travel, he went around the Imagination, he was in charge of it, like a housekeeper. He’s meant to make sure the daydreams are in order. But why couldn’t he remember beyond that? Had he ever actually done that, or was that just his charge that he’d been created with, just now?

Perhaps someone was here to help guide him. He was laying on a cushioned surface at least, and the more he woke up and focused, the more he noticed voices coming from the other room. He wore a sweater and slacks, tucked beneath a blanket. He’s probably been left in some bed somewhere. He doesn’t know where.

The more he woke up, however, the more his head throbbed. Curses. He isn’t even fucking real, why does this wound cause pain?! Illogical.

“Hello?” he croaked, voice softer than it felt like it should be. He was parched.

The voices outside quieted, and then a door opened. The Playwright could see it but everything was so damn blurry, he couldn’t make out any of the details.

“Playwright,” someone said.

Slowly, he nodded in response. “That’s me. May I ask, who are you?”

The person didn’t say anything for a moment. They stood still, still facing the Playwright, as if watching. It was a bit unnerving to be stared at by strangers, though, and his hands balled into the blanket as he pulled them back to push himself up.

“Who—” he tried to ask again, before wincing in pain.

“Does your head hurt?” the person asked.

“Yes, it fucking does,” he grunted. “I imagine something went wrong with-with the creative process here, because I sure hope the pain is temporary.”

“It should go away soon,” someone else asked, a voice so familiar.

The Playwright immediately let out a breath, one he hadn’t even realized he was holding in. That was Roman. It must be. He could recognize his creator anywhere.

“Roman,” he greeted, trying to be as calm as he could. “It’s a relief to hear you.”

The figure in the doorway, that must be Roman. He shifted a little, gestured at himself. “I’m glad. You got hit on the head. Sorry for the trouble.”

“Sorry for…I’m sorry for hitting you on the head,” the other person said. “I thought you were…It was stupid reasoning. I’m sorry it happened.”

The Playwright shrugged. Roman was here for it, he must have been. And Roman wouldn’t…let him get hurt like that. He was a good man. “No worries from me.” He was pretty sure Roman could just…make it disappear. Right? That was something Roman had the capacity for, right? And just…chose not to do.

It was a decision that the Playwright disagreed with, for obvious reasons, but. Well. He trusted Roman, he had to.

“I’m sure with a little more time, it’ll go away. May I repeat, though. Who are you?” he gestured to the other figure, the first one in the room, and they sighed.

“I’m the Director. You and I, we’re figments Roman’s created to help guide him through certain parts of his duties,” the Director explained, until his voice trailed off. “I’m…”

That made sense. And the name ‘the Director’ coupled with his own title made the Playwright think that they worked together often. There must have been something that went wrong, of course. That’s how the Director ended up striking him. It sounded like that, at least, and he sounded sorry enough.

“It’s okay,” the Playwright repeated, waving a hand. “Is there any reason I can hardly see either of you?”

The Director nodded and the Playwright could see him fumbling for his pockets. “I—yes, your glasses—I cleaned them, sorry,” he leaned forward, arm outstretched, and as he came closer, the glasses in his hands came more into focus. As did he.

A blonde man, hair slicked back, with green eyes. He looked worried as he stood closer to the Playwright, as he put on the glasses. The world clarified around him once he did. The Director’s outfit was definitely befitting of a stereotypical director, red scarf and trenchcoat and all. Roman was wearing a much more casual outfit as well, seemingly at peace here. They must be backstage somewhere. Perhaps there was an accident while they were preparing for some dream or planning session.

Roman watched the interactions quietly, thinking to himself about what this would mean. He didn’t want the Playwright questioning him on anything here, so he had to remove more than just the incident. And he wanted to know more about the Director’s plans. Especially if he was going to be taking it up.

A plan to help Roman be more perfect. Perfection was unobtainable, but you could always strive. Roman always tried.

Maybe it’d help fill this emptiness in his chest.

“Trivial,” Logan had said. Roman’s lapse in pride was “trivial.” That’s what Janus thought, too. Even Patton. Maybe even Virgil, it sounded like what he’d said so long ago, and had anything changed? Or did Virgil pity him? Roman didn’t know. He couldn’t trust any of them. He couldn’t trust Janus, he couldn’t trust any of them.

If Logan thought that, then Roman should have to make the change. Logan was often right. And if only it didn’t hurt so bad to be told it…

Roman had to be able to trust himself. Maybe the Director was onto something. Maybe Roman could live with a little less naïvety. Maybe it would hurt less.

He rolled his shoulders with a sigh. The other Sides were likely still milling about the living room. Patton was probably waiting for him to apologize or something for making a scene. He did indeed make a scene, but…he was tired of having to be the bigger man. And tired of having to apologize when the other party, the one who hurt him, didn’t. Or, at least, wasn’t told to. And made no motion to do so. Why did he have to continue being the bigger man? Because it was “chivalrous” or something, the kind of thing a real prince would do? He wasn’t even a real prince. He wasn’t even real! Why should he be held to such a standard?

Why couldn’t they just treat him like a person, too.

Sure, they weren’t people. That was part of the whole thing. But they all had feelings. And they all had their own independent thoughts and opinions. So maybe they weren’t fully developed people but they certainly weren’t just facets, not anymore. They were something in the middle. It was a balancing act. And the others, namely Janus, couldn’t just keep toppling him on the tightrope. Roman wouldn’t let him.

Roman had to cut the parts out that made him so easy to manipulate. He had to be smarter, more cunning, to keep up. It fell in line with the Director’s reasoning. Roman understood it. He wondered why the other advisors hadn’t seen the solution so clearly before. It was how they’d all begun, wasn’t it? A battle to the death?

They just had to figure out how to actually incur death. Roman remembered the Damsel telling him how hard he’d tried to kill himself, kill all of the others, and how nothing seemed to work. That was because they still had bits of Roman in them, without Roman being his own being.

Now that he was separate from them physically and now that they were all metaphoric representations for parts of him, they might be easier to mold. And the Damsel’s old plan…coupled with the Director’s plan…yes. Yes, this could work.

“He’s going to rest for a bit more before getting food,” the Director murmured, interrupting Roman from his thoughts.

He hadn’t been paying attention to whatever the Director and the Playwright were doing, but given how he’d erased all of the Playwright’s memories and left him with the injury’s pain, he figured they weren’t conspiring. Probably just asking simple questions and planning for what they’d do in a bit.

“Fair indeed,” Roman hummed, stepping back into the Director’s living room again.

The Director closed the door behind himself with a sigh. Then, he rounded on Roman.

“How much of his memory did you take out?” the Director hissed, brows furrowing in confusion. “He didn’t know his own name.”

“If he remembered anything, his one brain cell would activate and he’d find us out,” Roman argued. “I took it all out.”

“All of it.”

“Mhm.” Roman took a few more steps back toward the kitchen. He figured they were going to prepare some food.

“Roman. That’s…I’m sorry to question you, but isn’t that a bit…”

Roman turned around slowly to see the Director standing stock still in the hallway, right in front of the door to the Playwright’s room. His voice had dropped, and their voices were soft already. If the Playwright heard them, missing his memories wouldn’t protect them from his scrutiny. So Roman? Glared.

The Director didn’t seem willing to go against him, however, which was good. That’s what Roman wanted to see. To get this done right, he’d need cooperation.

He took in a deep sigh and shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“If he remembered that he’d met me before, he’d have some kind of…oh, I don’t know, some big idea about how he can fix things. Or how we need to talk to the other Sides, if he remembered meeting them,” Roman waved his hand while he turned back to the kitchen. “I wasn’t going to risk it.”

He could hear the Director let the rest of his breath go behind him. Of course, even the parts of him didn’t trust him. No one did. And that’s why he had to be wary with all of them, too.

“No, you’re right. I’m just…You’re much more willing to go with this than I’d expected,” the Director admitted as he followed Roman into the kitchen.

“Of course. It’s a new kind of plan, and nothing else has worked,” he tried not to sound too bitter. “I think it’s time to get creative.”

In response to that, the Director snorted. “What’s your favorite idea,” he mumbled. “Mine is being creative.”

“Don’t even go there, Macbeth.”

Lunch was easy to make, a solid standard cream of broccoli. Lucky for Playwright that he didn’t inherit Roman’s sensitivity to cream-based broths. Roman was dicing the broccoli while the Director did the potatoes, and throwing it into the blender to purée was easy. It was a strong feel-good recipe. It…was one of Patton’s recipes. The scent made something in Roman’s chest pang with an indescribable pain, like familiarity and regret all at once.

…Breakups aren’t easy for him. That didn’t seem to be something that anyone really processed. Sure, Janus and Patton and then Virgil and even Logan were putting pressure on Roman’s ability to trust. He barely wanted to work with them, he couldn’t trust them. But love? Love was a literal part of him. A broken heart felt like a bruised rib.

So…watching them all fall apart…feeling them all grow distant…oh, just throw him on a rack and tug him asunder! Just tear him apart! Again! He could do it again! Fourth time’s a charm! And this time, he’ll tear his heart out, TOO!

“Easy, my prince,” the Director murmured, voice soft behind him.

Roman sat at the kitchen table slowly, hands crossed in front of himself. He felt weary. Much too weary, like he’d undergone a journey or a tribulation, for naught.

The Director gently patted his hair, raking his fingers through in a careful manner. Almost loving.

How sad, his voice echoed back at him, to comfort himself. It had come full circle.

“I’ll bring this to Playwright and we can talk turkey when I’m back. I’ll tell him to go back to sleep and shout if he needs us,” the Director explained quietly.

Fair enough; Roman waved his hand, and the Director was gone.

There were no windows in the Director’s house, not really. His home was carved into the side of the overhang of Roman’s world, the precipice right above the Subconscious, far too deep into Thomas’ brain to be remembered or even called upon. One wrong move and the Director and maybe even Roman would be eradicated. Who knew if it could erase Roman, given his necessity to Thomas’ functions.

He’d tried. Before. Long before. But it was an accident, somewhat. The Dragon Witch had flung him a bit too far, and he skittered off the edge, only to reappear in his castle.

…But could the Director be erased?

There were no windows in the Director’s house, so Roman leaned back and stared at the wall, which was carved from the smoothed limestone cliff. It was something to look at while he thought.

He wouldn’t want to throw the Director to the subconscious. He…these were creations. His advisors, they were creations, with a little something extra. Could he separate that something? Could that be erased? Would it even need to be?

The Director, no, he needed his direction, but…but the Child…maybe the others…

Maybe it would be merciful, too. If Roman could separate the parts of the Child that connected him to Roman, then that would possibly solve the problem identified by the Director. Whatever parts of Roman the Child represented would be freed. And Roman could throw that to the Subconscious, bury it away, while the Child could continue as a character.

That might work. It would be a plan that the others would oppose less. Of course, they would oppose it initially, but some of them must understand that Roman had to do what must be done. And the Child would be back! It wouldn’t be anything drastic, not like the Damsel had wanted. And with much more thought put into the planning, compared to the Damsel’s. Right?

When the Director came back, Roman was still staring at the wall. He did a double take, looking between the wall and his prince a few times before waving his hand.

Roman jumped when the wall indented, opening to a garden. Still surrounded by stone, as he looked, but a full garden. Fruit trees and all.

“You seemed like you wanted something to look at,” the Director said.

“If I did, I could have made it,” Roman retorted, only for the Director to sigh.

“I’d like to make something for you, for once. There’s only so much I can make.” He slid into the seat across Roman, holding a mug. It smelt like chocolate.

Another mug appeared in front of Roman. He also wanted a drink, and if they were having hot cocoa, then he’d love to indulge as well. Sure, it was technically a mocha. Sue him.

The Director rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his face. “Show off.”

And Roman snorted.

It was nice. Peaceful.

…This was the kind of ease he wanted more of. As often as possible. If he could ever have it again. Just a quiet peace without having to question people’s intentions with him.

Roman took the first sip and it tasted bitter in the back of his throat.

“I’ve been thinking, about your plan,” Roman murmured.

“You’ve said that a few times, but I don’t actually have a concrete plan. I’ve got a theory, but it’s nothing workable,” the Director responded, voice harder this time. “What’s the plan?”

That was fair enough, Roman supposed. He leaned back again, rolling his shoulders. It was nice to not be wearing his princely garb, too. Here, he had it hung in his room’s closet (he had a room here, a cozy, quiet room that faced the waterfall into the Subconscious) and got to wear clothing that was just comfortable. Fuzzy socks. Shorts. A hoodie.

The safety of it all helped stifle the growing dread, the numbness in his stomach. If this plan had to be done, then it had to be done. There must be some reason that two of his facets had come to the same conclusion. That parts of him had to die. So he could simmer in the comforts while facing these realities head on.

“It’s a combination of your theories with…the Damsel’s original plans,” Roman said, beginning his explanation. “The Damsel…I remember knowing something was wrong with me. That there was a reason everyone…I had to become something that would be more effective. A form Thomas would find more use out of. That’s why you all came into being, after all.

“The Damsel wanted everyone to die. But what he ran into was that all of you, all of my advisors, have some part of me in you. That’s part of how you’re able to predict what I would do and see what I do out in the Mindscape. Just because I’m myself doesn’t mean you don’t have that connection anymore. It’s just weaker.”

“Like we’re your self-inserts and this is a fucked up alternate universe,” the Director suggested.

Roman snapped his fingers. “Bingo. And you all, like myself and the other Sides, are me in different ways. Not in as clean a split as myself and the others, but still split in ways regardless. So if I separate myself from one of you…then that piece just becomes another character of the Imagination. If I disavow, say, David. The Artist. I would stop creating as much.”

The Director nodded, though his eyebrow was still raised in confusion. “Where are we going with this?” he asked.

“Well,” Roman gestured. “If it would work with any of you, it could also work with Child. And you’d suggested that Child was the root of most of my problems.”

In that instant, the Director seemed to understand. He had been about to take a sip, stopped halfway, and put his mug down with a slight slam. His eyes were wide as he stared at Roman, who only grinned back.

No. Roman really…Roman would do that. Roman trusted his judgment that much? He was willing to go through with it? This would…It was completely possible. Roman himself could use the Imagination’s powers to its fullest extent and then some. If he claimed that killing the Child and removing his connection to Roman through this…

What, this “disavowing” as he called it, if he thought that would work, then it must. Because Roman said it would. Because in this world, Roman was the prince. He was the ruler and controller of everything.

If Roman said the Director was right, then he must be.

Because in this world — in the Imagination — in the play-reality of Roman’s mind — whatever Roman said went, and whatever Roman believed happened.

“How would we do that?” the Director asked. “Like, how do we get the Child here?”

That wouldn’t be tricky, Roman initially thought, before realizing…that it was going to be incredibly tricky.

The Child was well-protected, all things considered. He was strong. Too much sway and too permanent a position with Roman (and Thomas, even) meant he was able to protect himself pretty well so long as he believed he could. Not to mention the Thief. Roman was a good swordsman himself but the Thief did it for a living.

“You need the Child?”

Roman and the Director both jumped. The Playwright was standing in the doorway holding a tray of empty dishware. He tilted his head at them both.

His glasses were hanging off his collar. It hurt to keep them on for too long, like a headache in the back of his neck, and if all there was in here was these two then he didn’t need them on. Plus, he could navigate the space well enough without them. The Director bid him rest but he wasn’t exactly sleepy. Might as well bring back out his dishware.

He shuffled toward the sink, casting them both quick looks. He must have interrupted an important conversation about the Child.

“Is he particularly hard to get?” the Playwright asked again. “Or should I not know about this?”

Quickly, the Director shared a look with Roman — one that very plainly read ‘help me so fucking god I’m dying’ — before shaking his head at the Playwright. “I wouldn’t want to implicate you in anything,” the Director said. “This is…this is behind the scenes work.”

Huh. Interesting phrasing. The Playwright tilted his head. “Am I not…your behind the scenes worker? Am I not literally named ‘Playwright’?” he asked.

Ah. Well.

The Director shot Roman another look, one that Roman did not return.

Something must have been moving in his brain, something the Director wasn’t privy to, because Roman was watching the Playwright with a small smile. Almost knowing.

“You are, actually,” Roman said. “As you know, I consult with all of the advisors.”

The Playwright nodded, then stopped. “All? Is the Child an advisor?” he asked.

“Yes, he is, and I’m a little worried about what he’s been advising about. After all, I can’t be too childish. I can’t put anything out that isn’t my best, and I want to achieve STARDOM!” The Director leaned back when Roman’s arms jumped out, gesturing in a grandiose way at the world around them. “I need to be taken seriously as the prince I am!”

“Aren’t you already taken seriously?” the Playwright frowned. “Virgil and Logan have both verbally sparred individually against you and you’ve come out clean on both fronts. If I…remember. Correctly.”

Roman tutted, waving his hand dismissively. “That’s almost the problem. No one trusts me to not battle my wits. And Deceit—Or, oh, Janus—”

“Ah. Janus,” the Playwright cut Roman off. “The two-headed Grecian god of duality.”

“Yes. And Deceit, that’s his name. And duality’s the right word for the dual-faced dueling he’s been doing. I need…him. To take me seriously.” Roman leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms with a petulance that had the Director reminding himself Roman as much a prince as he was an actor.

A pause fell over the group, as the Playwright turned to continue washing his own dishes. It was followed by Roman, quietly, earnestly adding, “And I need the Child to understand that.”

It was a reasonable request, the Playwright thought. To be taken seriously, well. Even Logan couldn’t achieve that, as much as he desperately wanted to. It’s what the Playwright wanted for Roman. He had to be organized, methodical, and practical. If the Child was impeding that…

“I know where he is.” The Playwright turned off the water and pulled a dishtowel off of the oven’s handle. “I can fetch him for you.”

Roman and the Director turned quickly toward him.

“Really?” Roman asked.

“Of course. It’s my duty to know where every member of the Imagination’s cast is, including us advisors. The Child just left the Thief’s Tree. I can retrieve him for you,” the Playwright rolled his sleeves back down. “Should I bring him here?”

“Yes. Yes, please.”

The Playwright nodded. As assured as his movements were, as much as the Director knew he could, he still felt an unease crawling up the back of his throat. He couldn’t quite place the worries, but they were making his stomach tie knots. Maybe it was just the Playwright. Without his memories, he was just methodical and driven by the ends that could, perhaps, justify these means. Almost moreso, to an enforced degree. He never got to meet the Playwright when he’d just formed, but he has a hunch that it was something like this.

It was unnerving. The Director almost wanted his old companion back. He wanted someone else to look at this plan. But it wasn’t that he didn’t trust Roman, no, it wasn’t. So he didn’t need someone else. He wiped the doubts away as quick as it came.

One of the biggest roadblocks in the Director’s plan has been the Thief. The Child’s Imagination-assigned guardian. But if the Child left the Tree, left the Thief’s side, then he would be a thousand times easier to get. The Playwright would just need to confront him and open another trap door, and they’d be here.

“Consider it done,” the Playwright said and, without much further ado, the ground beneath him swung open and he disappeared.

#more than beliefs #sanders sides #sanders sides au #sanders sides fic #tss roman #sanders sides roman #i like don't know if i should tag this #at this point i'm not writing this for readers i'm writing this for mf me LOL #i was rereading this and realized i had only updated to chap 8 #but in fairness i do have like #a whole nother book with these characters that's outside the sanders sides universe #like a whole other two books #lmao rip

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happysadyoyo · 1 year

Text

Here’s a fun fact about me: I like to turn everything I touch into a book. So like right now I’m working on this copper etched diptych:

This is just one version of several I’ve been playing with. Mostly through colored ink and paper though this particular piece is being printed both intaglio and relief. If you don’t know what that means, intaglio basically means printing from all the valleys of a plate (so the lines that I carved out) and relief means printing from all the places that weren’t touched (so all the high places left).

Intaglio (with a copper plate):

Relief (linocut):

Those examples aren’t my work. But I am working from a copper plate. So for the pink and purple print, I worked it like the intaglio example and then rolled it up like you would a linocut.

Anyway

I love the smaller plate, the tentacles, as a stand alone, so I decided it’d be fun to take that and turn it into a book. Here’s a sample of two of the prints in progress:

The photo is in fact not blurry as an FYI. Look at the drying rack. The print is just Like That because of the fluorescent pink under the cyan on the frontmost print and the same pink and white on the black paper.

I’m printing on white, beige, and black paper with white, cyan, pink, and yellow ink. I thought about if I want to do 2 or 3 layers per print, so I did an (unpictured) test and regretfully the 3 layer looks *chef’s kiss*. So I may be pulling these two prints in particular aside just to keep for myself and reprint them for the book.

Originally this book was supposed to be 12 sheets, 4 black, 4 beige, 4 white. 24 prints (printed on both sides). 72 layers, all from 1 plate. And if you don’t know, the whole process of preparing the plate can take, at best, 10-15 minutes because you’re carding the ink into all the crevices and then wiping the plate with cheesecloth to make sure it’s all in those nooks and crannies. I then follow it up with a second wipe down using a sheet of phonebook paper so there’s less “plate tone” (basically a hazy layer of ink over the full thing The white of the paper you can see? That’s cause I polished the plate up so there wouldn’t be ink there).

If you’re thinking, Icarus, you’re doing this for fun? Yes, yes I am. We’re talking about like 20-24 hours of work for a nifty little book, and that’s if I choose not to add text to the book (and I probably am because this is me).

Except the UArts school store decided to have a 90% off sale for all their art supplies so I purchased a lot of paper that should last me until March (I might go buy more next week tho). And that means I have a few extra sheets of paper I can cut down into more books pages. So... I’m doing that. Sunday actually cause tomorrow is gonna be just for writing for fun and profit.

So this 48 page book I was just making for the hell of it is now turning into...

144 pages, 36 sheets of paper (12 white/beige/black), 72 finished prints and 216-288 layers pulled from a single plate.

Why 216-288 layers? Not sure if I want to do 4 layers per print or 3. Gonna test that Sunday. I’ll take pics to actually show y’all.

We’re talking about more than doubling the hours being put into this, even with the bare minimum layers. And this isn’t including me cutting down the prints, adding text, designing the endsheets and covers, and the binding.

My goal? To finish this book by the end of the year. And yes, it’s still fun for me. Lots and lots of work for a single book but something I know I will adore at the end of it.

#printmaking

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saetoru · 1 year

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I hope it’s okay to add my two cents, but I agree with you. I think what separates a cheater from a non cheater is the ability to understand that actions have lasting consequences that hurt people. For example if you’re not in love with the person you’re with, the level of respect and the moral compass you posses would tell you to break it off without cheating. Someone who cheats in that scenario is someone who doesn’t think through about those parameters of respect and consequence. Likewise, I think the lines you’re willing to cross to hurt someone who cheats on you at the end of the day might not really make you all that different from a cheater in the first place and I would not want to be lumped in that sack 😭 but I also agree that in a lot of cases, going as far as to hurt someone’s career has a lot of lasting effects outside of just themselves. Me for example, my boyfriend has a 3 year old daughter and yes, I would be furious and wish him some form of suffering in return for the pain he caused me if he cheated, it’s human nature to feel that way! But I could not live with myself if I knew I had hurt his chances of providing for his daughter by ruining his job or chances of one in the future. I do think there are lines of how far you can go for anything, and being able to know when to stop at a certain point is what makes you someone who would probably be a loyal partner in the first place

yeah this is very well worded w the point i was trying to get at so ty anon ‼️ it’s not that i don’t think someone who cheats doesn’t deserve karma and some suffering on their end for the heartbreak they’ve caused. i’m a petty person ndjajdbd i think i’ve exampled that on here in the past a lot. i’ve seen ppl post the evidence of their partners cheating on social media and humiliating them for their actions. i’ve seen them like damage their cars or ruin expensive belongings and etc. i’ve seen a lot of things that every time i saw those i was like “ykw good for u. as you should” bc djfjsjf like yah i’ll be real i think there’s a level of karma you can dish out to someone for hurting u so deeply and ur more or less entitled to in that case. but i’ve also seen things that make me sick bc i could not imagine hurting ppl at that level bc they hurt me bc then what rly makes me any different ?? there are lines imo. sometimes the lines are blurry from scenario to scenario. but they’re there for sure i think

#asks!

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saintlike78 · 3 years

Text

The only thing we share [R.A.B & S.O.B]

A/N: THIS HAS TAKEN FOREVER! I’m so excited to finally be done with it! I’ve been working on this idea with @arcaneslut, so major thanks to her for supporting me through this. Also a major thanks to @bellatrixscurls for boosting my ego heheh <3 <3

It ends kinda abruptly because I was thinking about a part two if anyone’s interested in that.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Fem! Reader x Sirius Black (NO INCEST!)

Summary: Y/N can’t seem to choose between the two Black brothers, so what happens when Sirius finds her in the arms of his brother?

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: NSFW 16+, threesome (M/F/M), vaginal sex, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, slight dom/sub-elements (dom! Sirius, soft dom! Reg, sub! Reader), handjob, mention of cum and cum swallowing, praise, degradation (use of slut and whore), one singular spank, crying, an indication of two-timing (but not really). As always lmk if I missed anything.

“Heeey Reggie,” your voice was happy as you approached the dark-haired Slytherin boy, your arms finding their way around his middle to hug him.

His own arms found their way around you, holding you close to his chest as he chuckled lightly, “Darling, how many times have I told you not to call me that?”

“A lot of times... buuuut it suits you, so I’ll keep calling you Reggie,” you grinned as you looked up at his face.

Regulus shook his head, but his lips were slightly upturned in a smile.

“Do you want to study with me now?” You asked hopefully making it impossible for Regulus to say no to you, but it was exceptionally harder when you were looking at him with huge puppy dog eyes, a pout pulling at your lips if he should say no.

“Of course, darling,” he smiled, not giving it a second thought.

This was what your relationship was, endless flirting and lingering touches. Regulus would do almost anything you told him to, he was completely and utterly enamored by you, he couldn’t get enough. The only reason why you weren’t in a relationship was that he wasn’t the only guy who was head over heels in love with you - the other guy just so happened to be the one person Regulus couldn’t stand - his own brother. Another problem that you had found was that not only were they both in love with you, but you were in love with them both as well, creating a small problem for you.

Normally you wouldn’t be so publicly affectionate towards either of them, afraid that the other would catch on; you weren’t ready to lose either of them, so you kept it in your own secret world.

Of course, you knew how unfair it was to string them both along, not giving them the full truth as to why you didn’t want a relationship because you did want to be with them but having to choose was impossible.

Neither you or Regulus made a move to leave each other’s arms and head towards the library, just looking at each other while talking quietly about your day. You were too caught up with one another to notice the voices that grew louder and the sound of shoes hitting the stone floor. Unfortunately for you, the voices belonged to none other than the four Marauders, one of them, unfortunately, being the one person who was not supposed to witness you in the arms of his brother.

“Uhm y/n, what’r you doing?” the sound of Sirius’ voice caused you to quickly detach yourself from Regulus, creating a distance between the two of you, acting as if Sirius hadn’t caught you red-handed.

“Oh, hi Siri, what’s up?” You tried to act casual, but your tone and body language was anything but casual - fidgeting and bouncing from one foot to the other. Both boys looked at you and then at each other, scowling when they locked eyes.

Remus, James, and Peter looked between the three of you very confused, all three of them silent, thinking of what to say.

“I think we should get going - right James, Peter?” Remus broke the silence, hinting, not subtly that they should make their leave.

“Yes, sure, let’s go,” James stuttered, Peter just nodded, all of them scurrying away quickly, leaving you to deal with your problem.

“Darling, what’s going on,” Regulus placed a hand on your shoulder giving it a reassuring squeeze, but you could only look back at him with sad eyes, knowing that now you would lose both of them. Your stomach had dropped to the floor, and it felt like someone was squeezing your heart.

“Darling?... why are you calling her that?” Sirius crossed his arms angrily over his chest, his eyes staring intently at the hand on your shoulder, jealousy filling his chest.

“Please can we go somewhere more private... I promise I’ll explain everything,” you tried, gesturing towards the girl’s lavatory.

Both boys nodded and let you lead them inside, shutting the door behind you gently and leaning your back up against it.

You looked down bashfully, your hands fidgeting anxiously in front of you as your mind raced with ways to explain to them what you’d been doing.

“What’s happening, pup?” Sirius tried a gentler tone, but the anger was still evident in it.

“I’m sorry,” your cheeks grew hot, and you could feel tears slowly gather in your eyes.

“For what, darling?” Regulus was less angry, putting on a calm front for you.

“I’ve had a thing, with... Uhm... both of you...” you were trying your hardest to keep your voice steady, but you couldn’t help the slight shake to your vocal cords.

“... it was not my intent to string you both along... I just like you both so much and I couldn’t choose... I know it was very wrong of me, but I-I can’t stand the thought of... losing you,” your voice cracked, and the first tear rolled down your cheek, but you quickly wiped it away, knowing how stupid you looked - you weren’t the victim in this.

They both stood shocked, not knowing what to say, but both wanting to reach out to comfort you.

The silence was deafening, the anxiety was eating away at you as you waited for one of them to speak and just end it with you then and there.

“I’m sorry... I understand if you don’t have anything to say to me or if you don’t want to see me anymore... I’ll - I’ll just leave,” your voice was quivering as you tried to keep your tears at bay until you had left.

You turned your body, ready to make a run for it, knowing that they probably hated you, but your hand never properly touched the knob before your wrist was grabbed and your body was yanked backward and away from the door. You were spun around to face them both, Regulus holding your wrist tight, not letting you run away.

Regulus let out a sigh before speaking, “I’m not happy about what you did, but I’m not ready to let you go... I can’t.”

Your eyes widened at his words, not expecting him to still want to be with you.

“Well, I’m not ready to let her go either... so now we have a little problem,” Sirius went to stand beside you, putting his arm around your waist and pulling you towards him, surprising you even more.

The tears made your vision blurry as you looked between them, “I’m sorry... I just don’t know what to do,” you whimpered out, causing both of them to quit their scowling contest to look at you, both of their eyes softening.

“Oh puppy, c’mere,” Sirius pulled you into his chest, hugging you as you cried, wetting his white school shirt.

Regulus came closer to soothingly rub up and down your back.

“Listen here, if Sirius and I can agree, I would be willing to... share,” Regulus said begrudgingly, but anything was better than losing you, especially to his brother.

Sirius scoffed, but didn’t argue against his brother, “I guess, if that’s what it takes to keep you, then I’ll be willing to share as well.”

You sniffled and looked up, “are you sure? I don’t want to force you into anything.”

Regulus and Sirius shared a look, and both nodded, “we’re sure,” Regulus answered for the both of them.

You hugged Sirius closer to you, reaching one arm behind you searching for Regulus’s hand, which he didn’t hesitate to give you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, but both boys heard you clearly, Sirius giving your body an extra squeeze.

You removed your face from Sirius’ chest to look up at him, “kiss?” you puckered your lips, while his lips turned up into a mischievous smile, but nonetheless he complied, leaning his head down and connecting your lips.

The kiss was much shorter than you would have liked, your lips following Sirius’ smirking ones when he pulled apart, a whine tearing through your throat.

Sirius only chuckled at your needy reaction, prompting you to find solace in the man behind you; you turned your head only to be met with a smirking Regulus, his hand still in yours as he had moved closer to you.

“What do you want, darling?” Regulus had leaned down to be level with your face, his voice coming out soft, yet you didn’t miss the slight teasing tone he held.

“You… I want both of you.”

“Is that how you ask nicely, pup?” Sirius broke in, forcing your face to look at his by grabbing your jaw and turning your face.

You whimpered, “please, may I have both of you,” your eyes searched Sirius' eyes desperately.

He smirked, looking down at your desperate figure while running his hand up and down your waist, occasionally giving it a squeeze, “that’s better… good girls have manners and you are a good girl, are you not?”

You quickly nodded, “I am, I promise I’ll be good for you.”

Both boys let out a groan at your words, their pants growing tighter by the second.

Regulus pulled out his wand, casting a silencing charm as well as locking the door.

“You really want to do this here?” you asked with a small tilt to your head.

“Do you have a better place we could go? There’ll be people in your dorm and in mine as well and I’m not going down to the darkest place known to man, also known as the Slytherin common room,” Sirius said before he slowly started kissing your neck, sucking lightly when he found the spot that made you gasp out in pleasure.

“Oi! I’ll let you know that it’s very atmospheric to be under the lake,” Regulus said with an angry frown, not letting Sirius step all over his house.

“Whatever you say,” Sirius retorted against your neck, his tone sarcastic.

You could feel a fight starting to ensue, which was the last thing you wanted from them at this moment.

“Please don’t fight… this is good, please,” you whimpered as Sirius sucked a purple mark right below your ear, his teeth sinking lightly into the flesh before his tongue came out to soothe the skin.

“Don’t worry, pretty darling, we’ll take care of you,” Regulus’s soothing voice said before he stepped even closer to you, your body sandwiched between the two brothers.

Regulus’s hands caressed your body, his hands going over your bum before slowly lifting your skirt to caress your bare skin. He bent down on his knees, his hands kneading away on your bum, he came forward to leave small kisses on the cheeks, his hands trailing down your thighs and moving to the inside of your thighs but purposely ignoring the place you needed him most. “Spread those beautiful legs a little more for me, princess,” Regulus tapped the inside of your thigs; you didn’t waste a second, your legs spreading further apart.

Your hands found a home on Sirius’ shoulders as you used him for balance, your fingers digging into the muscles in anticipation. Sirius’ head retreated from your neck to look at your face, the mischievous smirk never leaving his lips.

He was about to lean down to connect your lips, but he was swiftly interrupted by a gasp leaving your lips; Regulus had placed his thumb on your panties, feeling the wet patch that had formed on them. “So wet for us, darling,” he breathed out, his thumb rubbing your core slowly, working his way up to rub your clit through your soaked panties.

You moaned and gasped again as the pleasurable feeling spread through your body.

“Such a little slut, getting wet just from the thought of having not only one, but both of our cocks... such a filthy girl,” Sirius teased, finally leaning down and connecting your lips in a heated kiss.

You parted your lips letting his tongue enter and dance with your own, your breathing growing labored.

As you were preoccupied with Sirius’ mouth on yours, Regulus took the opportunity to slip your panties off and down your legs, tapping each of your feet for you to lift and step out of them.

You could hear the low groan from Regulus when he was faced with your puffy glistening cunt, a sight so pleasing he couldn’t wait any longer before diving right in, licking a strip from your aching clit to your entrance. Your body jolted at the contact, you let out a loud moan into Sirius’ mouth and your fingers tightened their grip on his shoulders, scared you would collapse, even though Sirius was holding your waist making sure you wouldn’t fall.

Sirius pulled apart, desperate to look at your face, but jealous that Regulus had gotten the chance to taste you before he himself had.

“Who would’ve thought that little y/n was such a little whore?” Sirius taunted, pinching your sides. You moaned at his degrading words, the words going straight to your already dripping cunt.

Sirius let out a taunting laugh, “Oh you like that huh? You like it when I call you a whore?”

You nodded and whimpered, “y-yes.”

Sirius’s lips turned up into a satisfied grin, “hmm filthy girl,” he whispered.

Regulus pulled away for a moment, “she tastes absolutely divine.”

At his words Sirius reached a hand down, collecting some of your arousal on his fingers as he ran them through your folds, making you whimper, before bringing his fingers to his lips, licking them clean.

He smacked loudly, “mmhm perfect.”

Your cheeks turned pink, and you leaned forward hiding your face in Sirius’ clavicle, prompting a chuckle from the boy.

“Aww, are we feeling shy? Huh?” He feigned a caring tone as he mocked your shyness.

You whined and shook your head, but your face was quickly pulled from its hiding spot by Sirius.

“No whining,” Sirius scolded, to which you just nodded.

“Sirius, can you grab her leg?” Came Regulus’s voice, instructing his brother.

Sirius rolled his eyes, “don’t give me instructions.”

You reached a hand up to caress Sirius’ cheek, “be nice,” you whispered, trying to keep them civil, instead of Sirius complying you let out a surprised gasp when Sirius’ hand suddenly was around your throat, giving it a small warning squeeze, but not enough to actually hurt you.

“We might not agree about who’s in charge, but it’s certainly not you... got it?”

You gulped, but nodded, “yes, sir.”

Another groan escaped Sirius at the use of the title, “you’re going to kill me.”

Sirius let go of your throat, reaching down to grab your leg like Regulus had asked, hoisting it up.

“There we go,” Regulus breathed out, his middle finger circling your entrance.

You could feel your heart through your chest, the beating growing faster and more rapid as the seconds went on. Your breath had been replaced by moans – filling the quiet room, along with the squelching sounds as Regulus inserted a finger in you, pumping it slowly in and out, feeling your warm walls pulse and contract at the minimal pleasure he was able to give you with just one finger.

Sirius leaned down to suck and bite at your neck; whimpers left your mouth at the pleasurable pain his teeth gave you, your hands moving to hold onto him by the back of his neck, pulling gently at the hairs at the nape.

Regulus added a second finger, pumping them faster while his other hand reached up to rub your clit in fast circles, pressing it occasionally to add pressure.

You could feel the familiar warmth building in the pit of your belly, your orgasm approaching rapidly.

“Please, may I cum?” You begged, gripping Sirius’ hair tighter as you tried to fight off the feeling.

Sirius submerged from your neck, squeezing your waist, “not yet… sluts like you have to wait for it.”

You whimpered at his words, tears gathering in your eyes at the strain of holding it in, “please, sir, I can’t,” you tried begging once more, but to no avail; Sirius shook his head and gestured for Regulus to stop, which he did, but not without a displeased grunt.

Regulus pulled his fingers from you, causing you to whine at the empty feeling and the fleeting orgasm having been stolen from you. You were about to turn your head to give Regulus a displeased look, but your cheeks were promptly grabbed by Sirius, his fingers squeezing a pout from you.

“What did tell you before?” he questioned with a raised brow.

“No whining,” you would’ve dipped your head if it hadn’t been for the hold, you found yourself in.

“Good girl,” Regulus praised as he stood to tower over you once more behind you.

“Good girl,” Sirius mocked, “she can remember simple instruction, but yet she still whines like a desperate little slut.”

“Don’t be so mean,” Regulus scolded, smacking Sirius’ hand that was holding your leg up, causing him to drop it.

Regulus leaned down to your ear before whispering, “don’t listen to him, darling, you’re doing so well, good girl.”

You turned your face, being level with Regulus, you connected your lips, tasting yourself on his lips and the sweet taste of him, breathing out a ‘thank you' before breaking apart.

Regulus just nodded with a smile, glad you understood his comfort, his hand finding home on the side of your waist Sirius wasn’t holding onto.

You felt Sirius’ hand back on your face, turning it to face him once more, “you know you can tell me if it’s too much, right?”

Your heart fluttered at Sirius checking on you, making sure that you were alright and happy with everything that was happening; you nodded in reply, looking into his eyes to show him that you meant it. Sirius smiled and leaned down to also be able to whisper in your ear, “good girl,” he whispered for only you to hear.

“Come, over here,” Sirius started guiding you towards one of the sinks in the lavatory, a large mirror hanging above the basin, your eyes meeting your own as Sirius pulled you further towards the image.

“Now look at that, such a pretty slut, it would be a shame if you don’t get the same view as us,” Sirius’ hand was stroking up and down the expanse of your back when you came to a halt in front of the shining mirror; Regulus followed suit standing on the other side of Sirius behind you. They were tall and intimidating – absolutely stunning, enchanting, causing all thoughts to leave your mind as you stared at them through the tall mirror; your stomach was filled with butterflies, accompanied by an ache created by the denied orgasm, your arousal was slowly dripping down your legs, but yet time stood still as you waited for one of them to do something, anything – you would let them do anything.

“I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to watch yourself get ruined like the filthy girl you are, understand?” Sirius was caressing your sides, but you knew it was as a decoy – his real purpose being freeing your shirt from being tucked into your plaid school skirt.

“Yes, sir, I understand,” you voiced your understanding, but you looked to Regulus, unsure what he thought of this particular arrangement.

Regulus caught your stare, returning it with a soft smile and kiss to your temple, “it’s okay, pretty girl, I’ll wait my turn,” he said with a wink.

Regulus stepped in front of you, temporarily blocking your reflection in the mirror, but his reasoning soon became clear as he started undoing the buttons of your shirt, helping you out of it, exposing your bra-covered breasts to the eager boys.

Sirius’ hands trailed up your back finding the clasp of your bra and undoing it, the bra loosening and helped off by Regulus. Out of instinct, your hands went up to cover your now exposed chest, but Sirius was quicker than you and took a hold of your wrists, his arms on both sides of you. “Don’t turn all shy now - you were so desperate before, be a good slut,” Sirius was taunting you, but his words only made the ache grow even bigger causing a whimper to be ripped from your throat and your head to turn to look at him over your shoulder; you were only met with a mocking tilt of his head, whilst his hands brought your wrists behind your back, switching to hold them both with one hand.

“Move out of the way, will you Reg.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, his face contorting into one of disgust at Sirius using a nickname for him, but nevertheless, he complied, but not before leaning down and giving your lips a quick peck.

With Regulus no longer blocking the mirror in front of you, you could see the situation unfold clearly; Regulus was close but leaning casually against a sink strategically placed so he could look at you without being in the way of the mirror, his hands starting to work on the zipper of his black school trousers.

Your focus was back on Sirius when you heard the same sound of a zipper, but from behind you; Sirius was quick to pull his painfully hard cock from the restraints of his own trousers, the tip of his cock red and dripping with pre-cum. He stroked himself a couple of times, his head thrown back and a groan leaving his lips, his raven-colored hair falling in front of his face when his head fell back into place. You let out a breathy moan at the sight, enamored by his beauty and growing more needy and desperate by the second.

Sirius flipped your skirt up, the clothing piece rather useless as you were bare everywhere else; your focus was momentarily lost on Sirius’ face, therefore, leaving you unprepared for the slap that was landed on your ass, pulling a yelp from you, but leaving you no room to complain as he pushed himself inside you – the complaint dying on your tongue and replaced by a surprised gasp of pleasure. Sirius and Regulus’ eyes were locked on your face, memorizing the look and contortion of satisfaction, the way your mouth was slightly agape, the slight backward roll your eyes made

Sirius set a fast pace, keeping you up by your arms as he held them tightly behind your back, giving both himself and Regulus a perfect view of your breasts as they bounced on every impact.

Your moans and smalls squeals, accompanied by the wet slapping sounds filled the bathroom, the occasional grunt and moan leaving Sirius’ mouth.

A yelp broke through when Regulus used his free hand, the one not currently working himself closer to an orgasm, to reach forward and tug at your sensitive nipples – pulling, twisting and rubbing them, his eyes locked on your reactions; he smiled a pleased smile at the sounds you let out, your eyes finding his, trying your hardest to keep your eyes open and hold his stare.

“You gonna cum, princess?” Regulus asked, giving your left nipple a particularly harsh pinch, your cunt pulsing and tightening around Sirius.

“Please, may I,” you pleaded, your eyes flitting between the two brothers, frustration building as well at the orgasm you were trying to hold off.

“Go on, milk my cock like the whore you are,” Sirius grunted, a low moan escaping as well as your cunt squeezed him once more.

Sirius moved his hips with a few hard thrusts, snaking his free hand to the front of your body to put pressure on your clit. Your breath stuttered, a gasp catching in your throat as a silent scream made its appearance, your orgasm rocking through your body, your cunt throbbing around Sirius. You spasmed as you tried, but failed, to topple forward, Sirius’ hands holding you too tight to let you fall.

Sirius moaned loudly as he reached his end, emptying himself in you, he stilled cock twitching. He rocked a couple of times, working you both through your orgasms before

he slowly pulled out, bending down to look at the way his cum dripped from you, muttering a small ‘gorgeous’ to himself. Rising to his full height, he kissed up your neck and your cheek while holding your body close to his, whispering small praises in your ear.

You were trying to catch your breath, your body twitching slightly at the sensitivity and the aftershock of the built-up release you had been keeping in for so long.

You were thrown out of your own thoughts and tiredness when you heard a moan coming from your side; Regulus’s head was thrown back as he tried desperately to finish himself.

You turned your head to kiss Sirius’ cheek as his head rested on your shoulder, before freeing yourself from his grasp to stand directly in front of Regulus. Grasping his face, you turned it down to look in your eyes as you leaned up to connect your lips with his in a hungry open-mouthed kiss. Your hand reached between your bodies as you took his cock from his hand, working it yourself; you applied pressure as you twisted and stroked with your hand at a fast pace. Regulus pulled away from the kiss to let out a stuttered moan as your thumb brushed over to sensitive slit, his hips working to match the pace of your hand.

“Gonna cum,” he breathed out, “let me cum in that pretty mouth of yours.”

Even though his tone was much softer than Sirius’ had been, it was still a command, to which you complied.

You sank to your knees, keeping your hand in motion, but replacing it with your mouth leading Regulus to his much-needed release.

His hands grasped your hair at the base of your scalp, holding your head still as his hips moved him through his release, his cum seeping into your mouth on your tongue and down your throat.

With the help of Regulus, you stood, met with the soft smile from Regulus and a gentle kiss on your lips from him. Sirius stepped behind you, holding your bra and shirt helping you put them on, turning you around to button the shirt up.

“Thank you,” you said, stroking his hair as Regulus stroked your hips from behind you.

“For what? This or the other thing?” Sirius smirked, your eyes rolling at his insinuation.

“Both, I guess,” you giggled making both boys chuckle, as Sirius finished off the last button on your shirt.

Your eyes scanned the floor, but the short search for your panties was unsuccessful.

“Uhm, where are my panties?”

Sirius smirked once more before holding the piece of clothing up but quickly pocketed it when you tried to reach for them. “Oh, I’m keeping these… as a souvenir.”

You rolled your eyes once more, but the smile was ever-present on your face.

“Again, thank you for this,” you breathed a content breath.

“I can’t say I wasn’t surprised, but if this is the price to be with you, I’m willing to pay it,” Regulus said, gesturing to Sirius as he said ‘this’, earning him a disgruntled ‘hey!’, though Sirius nodded in agreement.

“I’m interested in what’s to come.”

Tags: @dracosafety, @justadreamyhufflepuff, @teenwolfbitches28, @emma67, @trouble-in-space, @kermiemoon, @autumnandwinteraesthetics, @roonilwazlibswhore, @lexi_shoto, @sprucewoodlover, @blackandlupinsslut, @emmaev, @cedricisnotdead, @sirius-sugarmomma, @i-love-scott-mccall, @pretty-pop-princess-hs, @pottahishotasf

If crossed out it means I couldn't tag you!

#sirius and regulus #regulus black #sirius black #sirius black smut #regulus x reader #sirius x reader #regulus black smut

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artzee-bee · 3 years

Text

Not going anywhere | Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer

Request:” Hi i have request for you ,Lucifer and the reader have a big fight they are married, and this fight it's lucifer fault The reader leaves home and Lucifer decides to give her space After a few days, he goes to the reader and realizes that she has been missing for a few days,When the person behind all this claims that the reader is dead and gives them a her body . Everyone thinks that the reader is dead and Lucifer He gets depressed and thinks it's all his fault , and after a few days, the thieves release the singer and the reader goes to Lucifer.Lucifer first thinks it is an imagination and then apologizes to the reader Thank you so much”

Genre: Angst with happy ending

Warnings: kidnapping, death

~~~

Your intention had never been to start a fight. All you wanted an explanation (preferably one that also made sense) and an apology, but apparently that was too much to ask, because as soon as you voiced your opinion, Lucifer went up in flames

“Don’t start this again!”

“I dislike it just as much as you do but what I hate more is being cancelled on, AGAIN, through a text message no less!”

“It was an emergency!”

“It’s always an emergency Lucifer! It’s starting to sound a lot like work means more to you than I do!” “The detective needs me, damn it!” your husband yelled

“And she has you! Every day of every week! All I ask for is one date night and for the past month you’ve done nothing but avoid committing to one or backing out at the last second! I’m tired of being your second choice Lucifer! I’m your wife and you are my husband, I love you to the ends of the world, I just wish you'd say no to Decker from time to time...”

“I’m saving people’s lives Y/N. So if you’re not on your deathbed, other people are and they need me now!” as he said this, Lucifer walked right past you and into your bedroom, seemingly ignorant to the painful words he’d just said. You looked around the living room, vision blurry with tears, your chest heavy with anger and disgust. You rushed towards the elevator.

“When you find time in your busy schedule and feel like being my spouse again, let me know!” the elevator door closed before Lucifer could say anything

~~~

When Lucifer woke up the next morning to a cold and empty bed, he didn’t think much of it.Truthfully, he was still kind of pissed at the attitude you had given him a day before, so he got dressed as usual and went to the precinct, assuming you’ll be home by nightfall.

Except when he got home that night, he stopped by Lux first, which ended up like it always does: with him sucked into an endless cycle of booze and dancing, that lasted until well into the night. When he did enter the penthouse eventually, he found it empty. Exactly the way he had left it in the morning. Even the tie he had left on the floor, after deciding last minute that it didn’t go with his suit, was untouched. Now this was curious, but still, Lucifer felt like you must be playing hard to get. He sent you one text message, before going to bed

“Call me when you can!”

The day after that, he figured his part was done! By reaching out first, he had already made a big compromise, so now it was your turn! To reach out, come home! But that didn’t happen that day, or the day after that.

Three days after the text message,Lucifer was getting worried. He was looking at his phone every other minute. Always making sure he hadn’t accidently put it on silent or missed any texts. He sent more messages, telling you he was sorry and that he wanted you to come home. That he would listen and spend more time with you, promising luxurious dates and weekend trips, if only you forgave him. You didn’t even open the messages.

“Lucifer are you listening?” Decker was insanely annoyed at her partner’s lack of concentration

“Sorry detective. I’ve...I’ve got a lot on my mind”

“Well, better get it out of the way now, so that we can move on to our case!” she said, cleaning out her desk quickly, before resting back into her chair “Talk to me!”

“It’s Y/N. I’m worried about her!”

“Why?” “We...had a fight a couple days ago and she left. She hasn’t come back since”

“Have you heard from her at all?”

“No…” Lucifer said, embarrassed at his own lack of care for you. He should have called you earlier, reached out more! He should have tried harder!

“How long had she been missing for?”

“4...maybe 5 days…”

“Lucifer, are you sane? And you’re only telling me now?!” Chloe jumped from her seat, turning on her computer

“I thought she needed space! I thought she was avoiding me intentionally cause she was angry! I didn’t know…” Lucifer choked back a sob, not wanting to break down in tears in the middle of the precinct

“Lucifer!” Chloe caught hold of his hand “I’m gonna find her! I promise you!” A few days later, she did. Well, more like Y/n came to her, in the shape of a pretty little gift box left on Decker's doorstep.

“A lil too late on your case detective” read the note attached to it.

Inside were Y/N’s clothes, all of them stained with dark, dried blood. Y/N was declared dead that day and the case was closed. At her funeral, only her closests friends were present. Lucifer wanted it to be as intimate as possible.

That day was also the first time anyone had seen Lucifer, since the news. His eyes were bloodshot and the dark circles under his eyes almost matched the black suit he was wearing. Throughout the ceremony he kept twisting his wedding band, a habit he’d picked up on since you went missing. He chose not to do a speech, but once the crowd disappeared, and he was left face to face with your grave, he pulled out a little piece of paper from his pocket and sat down on the grass.

“In hell, everyone feared me. There, I was nothing but another server of the universe, ruling over an empire I never really wanted, because I never had a choice. So eventually I left, thinking anywhere will be better than what I had, and I came to earth.

I ran into you about 2 weeks later, before I really even knew how to behave myself. Before I knew anything about who I really was besides ‘the devil’. I longed to know, grow and discovers different sides of me, where I could be something new, and you gave it to me. You made me who I never thought I could possibly be. You made me a lover. I never thought of myself as capable to love anyone, in any degree, but your light shone everywhere you went and your kindness touched me and everyone around you. It became impossible to not get infatuated with your person. I allowed you to see and feel around every dark corner of my soul and being and every time I thought it was the end. Everytime I would take in your touch as if it was the last, I would prepare myself for abandonment, but it never came. Through everything you stood by my side and when I felt my darkest, you gave me a fistful of your light and that was enough to keep me going. You married a broken man and called him perfect, despite everyone telling you how much of a foul you were. Even then, you shooed them away. Even then you chose me. I wasn’t worthy of your love or your trust and our last night together proved it.

You’re not here anymore to hear my apologies and I’ll never forgive myself for it. You’ve gone now somewhere I can not follow, but I know you are well taken care of there. I hope, someway, somehow, you’ll hear these words: I am sorry. I loved you with my entire soul. Not listening to you was the biggest mistake of my life and I’ll never forgive myself. I choose however, to remember you as you were, because I know that’s what you’d want. I’ll remember you and your laugh.I’ll remember our date nights and shopping sprees. Nights in Lux or on the penthouse balcony. I’ll remember all the meals you prepared for me and the flirtatious remarks you used to make, because you thought they were so silly. I’ll remember the little frown on your face whenever you worked on an important project for work and I’ll remember every evening walk around the block you’d make me accompany you on. I know I always complained about them, but they were always fun. Everything I ever did with you was always fun.

I loved you. I still do. You are my everything Y/N. Thank you for devoting yourself to me in all the ways that you did. I’ll forever live on in my heart.“

~~~

It had been months since your disappearance. After all this time, you finally managed to escape your kidnappers and report them to the New York police station, since that’s where you had been held hostage for so long. As soon as the paperwork was done and you were sure that the people who ruined you were getting the punishment they deserved, you jumped on a train and headed straight back home. Straight to Lucifer.

Lux looked exactly the same as you had left it. You were washed over by a wave of comfort that almost brought you to tears. Home. You never thought you’d get to step in here again. Overwhelmed, you took a seat on one of the couches, allowing your head to rest back on it, as you took in every detail of your surroundings: the feel of the leather on your fingertips, the cool breeze of the air conditioning, the warm lights. Everything was still here.

“Y/N?” you jumped at the sound

“Hi love…” your voice broke as you said those words. Words you never thought you would be able to mutter again. The sight of your husband, messy as he was, made you weak in the knees. He was standing at the top of the staircase, dressed in nothing but his robe, tied carelessly around his waist. He had probably just woken up. You wanted to say something again, but before you could, he laughed

“Nope” he said simply, before making his way down the stairs and to the bar “I’m not doing this. Not today, not ever!” Lucifer filled his glass to the top with bourbon, before turning around and trying to leave back to where he came from

“Lucifer, it's me!”

“Sure you are, except you’re not real! Nice of dad, taking my ability to stay endlessly sober, getting me drunk, forcing visions of my dead wife onto me to teach me another lesson about managing my emotions. Real clever, except this is too much! So I’m going to enter that elevator and I expect to never have to see you again, hum? Right, well, au revoir now!” he continued on his way, but before he could get far, you were clutching on the silk tie of his robe. Lucifer felt the tug around his waist and turned around slowly to look at you, this time a little more unsure. As if he was trying to figure you out

“Lucifer, I’m Y/N. I escaped”

“Escaped? But that’s impossible, she died! I saw it-”

“What you saw was a bloody shirt!” he looked up to meet your gaze, tears already forming “They lied to you Lucifer”

Finally, it seemed like he had connected all of the pieces of the puzzle. The glass of alcohol fell to the ground and your husband wrapped you in a big hug for the first time in months. He nuzzled his head in your hair and took in your scent, your figure, your warmth. Hell, you were even more perfect that he remembered! Silent tears fell down both of your cheeks as you collapsed to the ground, still holding onto each other for dear life

“I’m so sorry” Lucifer sobbed in your hair “I’m so so sorry”

“It wasn’t your fault Luci”

“If I hadn’t been a jerk you wouldn’t have left! If I would have simply listened to you, they wouldn’t have gotten to you! You would’ve stayed here, where you belong! You would have stayed with me but instead I was too busy with my stupid job and the stupid cases and I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” he continued crying on your shoulder as you rubbed small circles on his back

“I’m here now my love” you whispered, kissing his cheek “And I’m not going anywhere”

#lucifer #lucifer netflix #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar angst #lucifer morningstar

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shirecorn · 3 years

Note

how about 17 and 24? what inspires you and how do you deal with art block?

Long post warning.

Art block...

I don't actually get art block, which is probably a combination of neurodivergence and drawing every day for the last 3 years

I wrote an entire tutorial about how to do that, but didn't feel like illustrating it. Would people want to read it even without visuals?

Maybe... I'll just start rambling.

There's a couple different types of art block, and it's really just a philosophy puzzle to get past them. I'm going to assume that the things I think of slow days, or art mud, is a milder form of art block and work through that.

Art block is a symptom, not a disease. You probably have something deep inside that you don't want to face, or don't know how. Sometimes you need to discover the cause, sometimes just power through.

Method 1: Rest

Let yourself just Exist. The act of consuming art is part of the process. Watching shows and playing games, taking a break and going gardening or focus on school. This is what you need for burnout-induced art block.

Method 2: Action

I always choose action, sometimes it means a tiny 2 min sketch per day. Ugly or super simplified. As long as I don't stop moving.

Toss everything. Start every piece thinking you will throw it away.

The act of drawing moves you forward; pinning it to the fridge does not. Don't work things until they are perfect. Work them until they are there.

Art block causes and solutions:

- No Inspiration

Not sure what to draw, nothing seems appealing. Art won't come out like it used to.

Do studies from life or photos. Sketch, paint, digital, traditional, doesn't matter. Rocks, fruit, figure drawing, landscapes, buildings, anything.

Study and copy professional's work. Old masters are best, like rubens, michalangelo (only his men tho) etc because they will teach you anatomy while you work. If you copy someone with a lot of flaws, you will repeat those flaws.

Trace to learn, not to earn. Trace photography and art from anyone you want. Don't post it unless you have the artist's permission or they are dead, whichever comes first. This is strictly work for yourself, on yourself. It's not about the finished drawing.

Find an artist with a fun style and try converting stuff into their style. Don't make that your new style though and especially don't start selling it. Your style is a chimera of everyone you love, not a clone of one person.

Take blurry photos. You don't need a fancy camera or good skills or beautiful subjects. Doing studies from your own photos can spark life into your workflow.

Make challenges for yourself. Randomly generate things to combine. Try fusing characters! Don't try to make it look good, just be fun.

Doodle patterns, swirls, lines, random stuff. Try looking up art warmups and doing some of those.

- Everything Sucks

You finally see how bad you are. Or somehow you got worse. Every piece is a fight and you spend hours trying to get something right only for it to be stiff and disgusting and STILL wrong.

Why are you trying to draw good? It's enough just to draw.

Accept that your art is bad. Every artist can see flaws in their work. Your problem is that those flaws outweigh anything remotely worthwhile and hurt to look at.

So what? You're in a period of growth, not a period of production. Keep that wonky second eye. Let them have hot dog fingers.

Show everyone! Show no one! No piece of art can ever be a reflection of the artist. Not their worth, not their skill. The only thing your art says about you is "Held and moved a pen for a bit."

Make bad art. It's ok. Most of the time, the pressure to perform and get things Right is what made them wrong in the first place. Relax.

- No Motivation

The #1 killer of artists everywhere. On some level you think you should draw, on every other level you think you should stay in bed.

You are not lazy. You wouldn't have read this far in a post about art block if you were lazy. You wouldn't CALL it art block if you were lazy. Laziness is wishing you didn't have to do anything. A block is wishing you were doing something. If you think you can namecall Yourself into productivity again, you're wrong and You need to unionize so that you don't treat You like that anymore.

Consider Mental Illness. Losing interest in something that brought you joy can be a symptom of depression. I know it seems obvious, but if you're waiting for a sign that it's "bad enough," it's bad enough. Seek care if you have the means. Forgive yourself if you already know this.

Selfcare. Examine yourself for neglect. Nutrition, exercise, enrichment, social need, and sleep are all part of the art process. Eat three meals and sleep 8 hours. That's your gaymer fuel. You deserve it, I promise. Depriving yourself of your needs will make your blocks worse, not kick you into making them better.

Identify potholes. Sketchbook falling apart? Tablet cord frayed? Half your pencils missing? Chair uncomfortable? Desk hard to reach? There's a lot of things that you tell yourself to work around and get over. Just because you CAN workaround something, doesn't mean you SHOULD. A difficult work environment can cause secret dread deep inside that you don't recognize and just think you're lazy. What you think of as "no motivation" might actually be "I don't want to deal with my tablet disconnecting every time I move it wrong and I have to wiggle it for a few seconds to make it work again." These little things are like potholes in the road. Sure you CAN still drive through them, but eventually you're going to look up and realize you haven't voluntarily left the house in weeks.

Repair potholes and roadblocks. You might feel bad about buying a new pencil, headphones, tablet, car, etc because technically the old one works if you hustle. But if you're running into so many potholes you've ground to a halt, it doesn't Actually work anymore, does it? Invest, save up, request, and require working equipment and suitable conditions. This stuff isn't just cushy privilege, it's an investment in yourself and your art. You are worth the effort it takes to clear the way. If you can't afford reliable (reliable! not perfect or luxurious) equipment, then say it. If cardboard is all you can afford, draw on cardboard. But know that you deserve canvas, and one day you might be able to make the jump. Acknowledge that sometimes, if you don't have it in you to smear burned twigs on wet cardboard, the problem isn't motivation, but opportunity.

- Haven't Drawn in So Long

A unique type of art block that self perpetuates. The thought of starting again is so stressful you can't do it. Or maybe you'll do it tomorrow. Yeah. Tomorrow for sure.

Face your fears. Are you ashamed of your lack of drawing? Are you anthropomorphizing your paper and thinking it's going to judge you, like "oh NOW you come back >:/" I internalize voices I hear and project them onto other people, concepts, locations, and inanimate objects. Your paper, computer, WIPs folder.... none of that is judging you.

Reframe your WIPs. Do you feel shame when you see "unfinished" projects? Why? Who says you MUST bring everything you start to Finish? You don't have to. A sketch is a finished art piece; it's called a sketch! If a sketch is a fully realized creation, pages that are half colored, 75% lined, or partially rendered are all fully realized creations too. Unless paid otherwise, art is done when you're done working on it.

Lower the stakes. Draw a chibi or grab some crayons. Get messy and slowly ease yourself back into the flow over the course of a couple days. It's fine.

Get a buddy! Find an art meme, do an art trade, get a study subject, or just wing it. Drawing art alongside someone can help you get past that block.

Pretend you never stopped. Don't think about the gap, how long it's been, or rustiness. As far as anyone knows, you drew the mona lisa yesterday and didn't break a sweat. Today, you drew a starfish on your hand with a gel pen. Keep up that streak, good job!

Just keep drawing. Make a goal to do one sucky drawing per day on the back of a napkin. Don't make up for missed days, just pretend they didn't happen. Who's going to judge you? The calendar? That's pieces of paper; it doesn't have an opinion. Draw a cat on it. Done. Keeping up the momentum is a great way to prevent art blocks in the future.

TLDR: Draw imperfectly and toss it. Selfcare is king. Draw often and don't judge yourself.

Art is a process, not a product.

#shire screams #art tips #ask #art block #long post

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frostedfaves · 3 years

Text

Naive (3)

Masterlist

Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You pick up on the lies in Wanda’s life and she decides to show you the truth.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️, more hints at dom/sub because I’m a whore for demon!Wanda

A/N: I can’t believe that it’s been a month since I posted the last one 😭 I have some things planned for the next part and so on but I also kinda wanna take requests again??? idk we all know how I get overwhelmed easily with that so we’ll see what happens there. anyway tell me your thoughts on this please!

Previous part

Waking up feels like gasping for air after being trapped underwater. You aren’t sure how long you were asleep, but the mid afternoon traffic quickly alerts you of how much of the day has passed.

Despite your head feeling like it’s made of cement, you manage to stand up, slipping off thin pajamas as you walk into the bathroom and stop at the mirror. Your skin seems tender in places and you’re a little bit startled when there isn’t a single indication of the bite marks and scratches you feel, even after rubbing your eyes a few times and turning in every direction possible. Deciding to let it go for now, you reach for the shower stall to turn on the water, detouring to the bedroom instead when you hear your phone ringing.

“Hello?”

“You didn’t save my number, did you?”

“Wanda?” You pull the phone away long enough to quickly clear your throat. “I mean hey, Wanda! What makes you think I didn’t save your number?”

“You answered like you didn’t know who was going to be on the other end.”

“Okay, you caught me,” you admit after a moment of silence. “I promise I’ll save it as soon as we hang up. Anyway, what’s up?”

“Remember that pet adoption center you pointed out to me?” You acknowledge her with a hum. “I was thinking about getting a cat…Wanna tag along?”

“Absolutely! I was just about to shower though so I can be ready in an hour or so.”

“Perfect! I’ll text you when I’m outside.”

The two of you say your goodbyes and you keep your promise of saving her number, typing in her name and hesitating on the emoji keyboard. Realizing you’d spent far too much time contemplating this, you simply save what you have and hurry back to the bathroom, something in your brain urging you to not keep her waiting.

Within an hour, she sends you a text in all caps and a smiley face that tells you she’s arrived, and you can’t hide the fact that you’re surprised when you come outside and she’s waiting on the passenger side of the car.

“Hey! How are you?” she greets cheerily as she approaches you with a hug, and you shiver when her hand touches your lower back. “Are you cold?”

“No, I’m okay.” You smile and thank her when she opens the door for you, attempting to collect yourself as she crosses to the driver’s side again. “I’m really happy to see you again.”

“You are?”

“Yeah,” you admit quietly as she pulls away from the curb. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No no, I just didn’t want to assume you were enjoying our time together as much as I was.”

She places her hand over yours while she glances at you, smiling as she squeezes your fingers and thigh lightly. You feel a rush of something traveling from the places she touched to your brain, only slightly aware of the fog settling in your mind.

“Well I didn’t want to be too enthusiastic about it and scare you away if all you wanted was friendship,” you clarify, meeting her eyes when she reaches a red light.

“I suppose you’re looking for more too, then.”

“I am now.”

The light turns green and she breaks eye contact, but the little smirk that follows tells you everything you need to know. At least, you hope it does.

“I think he’s the cutest one we’ve seen yet,” you comment about the kitten that hasn’t looked away from Wanda since you approached his area. “He seems really drawn to you, too.”

“How did he get the name ‘Baby Satan’?” Wanda inquires with an employee, who approaches you with a chuckle.

“It’s actually Baby Stan, because we used to have an adult cat named Stan as well and needed to tell the two apart. We were going to give him a new name but decided to leave that up to his new family.”

“It says ‘Baby Satan’ though,” you cosign with Wanda, gesturing to the extra A mixed in with the magnetic letters that spell the kitten’s name.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I don’t know how that got there,” the employee apologizes as she reaches over to fix the sign, and you watch her freeze as Wanda touches her arm.

“Don’t be sorry. Keep it; I want to adopt him.”

“Okay, right this way,” the employee mumbles as she turns awkwardly and stumbles over to a desk, and as the two of you follow her, you look back to see Baby Satan still staring at the woman beside you.

“What was that about?” you speak up finally once you’re in the car with her new furry friend, and Wanda frowns at you while fastening her seatbelt.

“What?”

“Why did that employee react to you like that? You touched her and she started acting really weird after.”

“Oh, Kim’s fine!” she assures you as she fixes her mirror before pulling out of the parking lot. “I actually asked her about that while you were looking at scratching posts and she said I’d overstepped her boundaries and made her uncomfortable. Don’t worry, I apologized and everything’s good again.”

“She told you her name?”

“She was wearing a name tag, babe.”

Babe...that’s new. Still, the sudden nickname doesn’t completely distract you from the fact that you’re certain there was no name tag on Kim’s uniform. You’re debating with yourself about bringing this up when you notice her heading toward Lane County.

“Are you taking me to your house?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” She glances at you and over her shoulder toward Baby Satan before turning back to the road. “I figured I could introduce both of my kittens to the place they’ll be spending a lot of time in.”

Her fingers brush over your knee as “my kittens” leaves her lips, and you’re almost embarrassed when your hips involuntarily buck slightly. Noticing the small change in your behavior, she takes advantage of your head turned toward your own window and allows her instincts to continue driving while she stares at you, placing her palm on your thigh and rubbing circles on the fabric covering it that brings her closer and closer to your core.

“Home, sweet home,” Wanda announces as she pulls her wandering hand away to park the car, jumping out a second later and grabbing her furry son from the backseat. “Hey there, Baby S.”

You step out of the car in a similar fashion of pulling yourself out of a swimming pool, taking in the fresh air and trying to relax yourself as you follow her into the apartment building. The hallways reflect the quiet and clean neighborhood as you make your way into the elevator and up to the 6th floor, suddenly entering the most empty apartment you’ve ever seen.

Of course there’s furniture: a couch with a TV mounted on the nearest wall, a dining table with a set of matching chairs, a few stools placed at the island and kitchen appliances that are shiny and new. But there isn’t any personal artwork, posters, books or even just a lamp that you could tell Wanda purchased herself with one glance.

“Are you staying in an AirBNB or something?” you ask as she carefully places Baby Satan’s carrier next to the couch, and she chuckles.

“I guess technically it was one before I moved in, but I’ve been here for two years.”

“Okay...so where are your pictures?”

“What?”

“Where are your pictures?” you repeat, maintaining a steady voice despite the expression she gives you as she faces you again. “Pictures of your family, friends, you as a child?”

“If you knew my family, you’d understand why you don’t see them here.” She startles you by practically growling her words but you press further.

“Okay but you also said you love plants and we’re the only living things in here.” You step back to put more space between you while quiet shuffling noises are heard inside the carrier. “What’s really going on here?”

You can easily spot the shift in Wanda’s emotions: going from defensive, arms crossed and eyes glaring to resigned with slightly sagging shoulders and a defeated sigh.

“Fine, you got me.” She bends over to pick up the carrier again and passes you on her way to the door, stopping a few feet away. “If you’re serious about pursuing a relationship with me, then I should probably show you my real home.”

“I don’t know...”

“Come on, love.” She comes just close enough to bring your hand into hers and a tingle spreads through your body, causing you to pull away but her grip only tightens. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you, and this is the only time I’ve lied.”

You find yourself being drawn closer to her, and an almost familiar feeling washes over you when her thumb begins rubbing gentle circles into your jaw. The metal on her ring is so cold it almost burns upon contact, yet you nuzzle into her more with each pass along your skin.

“Don’t you want to be good for me without being forced to your knees first?”

If the fog surrounding your consciousness wasn’t so thick, you might’ve been shocked by this side of her, so calm yet demanding you serve her. But the hand on your jaw seemed to cover every inch of your body and sink into your nervous system, forcing you to fall into her and let her lead you back to the car with a simple arm around your waist. You’re buckled into the passenger seat again and a slightly blurry grin greets you from behind the wheel seconds later.

“I can’t wait to make you mine.”

Your head falls against the car window as she drives to the edge of Lane County, and your altered vision picks up on businesses turning into isolated suburbs into grassy fields into forests. You travel along narrow, winding roads past the tallest of trees with very few spaces in between, and your hazy state of mind prevents you from panicking when Wanda turns onto a dirt path that doesn’t even seem to be safe for bicycles. The wheels bump along the forest floor until she comes to a stop just outside of a two foot dwelling, similar to a cave.

Once the two of you are out of the car again, she holds your hand with her free one until you reach the cave, instructing you to sit in front of it while she does the same. She places her palm on the door, and her rings seem to come alive as they interact with it for a few moments before it swings open and the three of you are sent flying through a tunnel. You land with a groan on the hard floor and dust yourself off as you carefully stand, any questions dying in your throat as you face Wanda again, now standing before you in her true form.

“Welcome home.”

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #frosty's dark!fics

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callmeshakespurr · 3 years

Note

Hey, if you're requests are open could you do a Rick Flag × Male Villian Reader (fluff) idk something cute where Rick Flag ends up falling in love with Male Reader, and the feeling is mutual. Idk you can fo what you want with it. ❤

Rick Flag x Male Reader

Requested: yes

Category: fluff, just a little bit of angst

Warnings: slight torture (?), i mention a knife like,, once

Note: I haven’t watched Suicide Squad in some time, so this could’ve turned out just the tiniest bit yandere, I hope you don’t mind! Also- I kinda struggled with this cause its my first time writing an actual one shot, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways (:

Tysm for requesting, hope you enjoy it <3

“Where is he?”, Amanda Waller called out as she walked down the hallway, towards the high security room you were currently kept in — Colonal Richard ‘Rick’ Flag not far behind her.

Her call grabbed the attention of the two guards, who stood in front of your cell.

“Is he in there?”, Amanda asked again, approaching the door with fast steps. One of the guards nodded and opened the thick metal door to let the director and the colonel in.

Amanda Waller had tried to get her hands on you for almost five years now, after you first made an apperiance in a club, killing two people. After that, several assassinations followed. Nobody knew who you exactly were, what you looked like, who you worked for; you were like a shadow — what people then came to call you, Shadow.

The major reason of why nobody could get a hold of you even in the slightest bit, was because you always vanished before anybody could even spot you.

After two years of not being able to catch you, the police gave up on further investigation in your cases. Amanda didn’t break so easily though. She wanted you in one of those cells she kept so many freaks in already, and she wasn’t going to give up until she had you sitting behind one of those metal doors, unable to escape her.

After all these years of going after you, she did manage to find out two major things about you. Why you always managed to escape without anyone catching a glimpse of you, and what your weakness was.

All these things led to the present situation.

You sat in a dark room, the only light source being a small lamp, dangling from the ceiling. Your ankles were tightly cuffed to the chair you were sitting on, on your wrists and neck you felt something cold and heavy, which seemed to send small electric shocks through your body every few seconds.

You weren’t sure where you exactly were, since you passed out before they got you. Hell, you didn’t even know who ‘they’ were.

You closed your eyes, trying to concentrate on your thoughts, which was not as easy as you hoped it would be. To say that you were in pain was an understatement. The electricity flowing through your body kept you from thinking straight, and send a wave of pure pain through your limbs with every shock you got.

A female voice ripped you from your trance, and you slowly opened your eyes again, head still hanging low. You knew that voice and you knew that you didn’t stand a chance anymore.

“Your powers won’t work anymore, unless i allow you to use them, so don’t even try.”, that voice belonged to none other than Amanda Waller, probably the only person on this planet you actually feared. You were never scared of what her minions could do to you, no. You were scared of what she could do to you if she ever managed to get you — which almost happened on several occasions.

You clenched your fists, trying to ignore the pain that came over you again, as you frantically tried to somehow sort your thoughts and find a way out of this, but nothing seemed to work. There was no way out of this. There was no escaping this. The feeling of helplessness washed over you, a feeling you didn’t like at all.

“You’re Y/N L/N, you’re a teleporter, thats how you managed to always vanish before the police got to the crime scene”, Amanda spoke, watching you as you sat there on the chair, staring at the ground, unable to move a single muscle. “It took me some time, but i managed to figure out how to block your powers”, she continued, taking slow steps towards you “Teleporters are extremely sensitive to electricity, some mightve even already died due to the constant pain if they were in your place.” She stopped right in front of you, looking down at your slumped figure, the only thing restraining you from falling over being the thick metallic handcuffs that kept your hands tied behind the chair.

Amanda grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at her. Your sight was blurry and it cost you a lot of strength to even keep your eyes open, but you did manage to make out the silhouette of a rather tall person standing at the entrance of the cell, watching the whole scene, before your focus was back on the woman in front of you. “You’re actually a very pretty boy, Y/N, and very smart too, it’s a shame that you decided to end up like this.”, she said, before letting your face go. “Rick, take him to get the injection, then get his things and introduce him to the team. After that, you can take him to his provided cell.”

The man standing at the door — Rick, you assumed — made his way towards you, as Waller left the room, leaving you to the colonel.

Rick helped you out of the cuffs, that kept you strapped to the chair. Looking at you, he almost felt bad, you looked so drained and helpless. He had never exactly agreed with anything Amanda Waller did, but seeing what just a few hours under her control did with you was another level of not agreeing with something she did.

“Can you stand?”, the colonel asked and you nodded, slowly rising from the chair. Your legs wobbled beneath your weight and you instinctively grabbed onto whats next to you, which just so happened to be Ricks Arm.

After making sure you had gathered enough strength, he began to walk with you towards the door.

time skip

It’s been a little over a week now since they’ve brought you here — you think. Every day was the same. Sitting on the cold floor of your cell, staring at the camera in the corner of your ceiling, some guard bringing you food, you not eating it, some guard taking it away again and reporting everything to someone, more staring at the camera, someone bringing you food again, you not eating it again, the guard taking it away again and reporting everything, all over again, everyday.

The only slightest bit good and entertaining thing was the colonel — Rick Flag, as you learned was his name — checking up on you every now and then when he didn’t have anything better to do. You didn’t quite understand why Rick was making efforts to look after you, just for you to not answer his questions anyways, but you appreciated it. It made everything a little more bearable.

Of course, you were one of the bad guys, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t have a life outside of assassinations.

When you weren’t working for other bad guys, you loved to just sit in your apartment and read, you loved to go onto high buildings and watch over the city. You dreamed of leaving everything behind and exploring the world someday. You worked at your favourite coffee shop, hell you even had a cat. The thought of your only friend being probably already dead or suffering made you sad, but what could you do about it?

Sometimes, you wish you hadn’t picked the path you were on, but looking back at the time you chose to work for the bad guys, you didn’t really have a choice.

Your train of thoughts was interrupted, when you heard the door to your cell open. Hoping it would be Rick, you looked up, your eyes only half open from the lack of strength you had. What you did not expect was to see Amanda Waller standing in front of you, Rick Flag behind her.

“Stand up”, the woman demanded. You listened, as it was of no use to resist her orders. You slowly got up on your feet, which didn’t last long, since you almost immediately fell over, landing painfully hard on your knees. To your suprise, Rick immediately rushed to your side, helping you stand up again.

“I don’t need him on missions like this”, Waller spoke as she watched you lean onto Rick for support. “Take him to the base, the council and I will be waiting there in the meeting room for him.” With that, Waller left again.

The way to the car wasn’t long, but with you almost not being able to stand on you own, let alone walk on your own, it took a little longer, which only fueled your anxiety. The ride to the base was even worse though, since nobody talked and you had five guards sitting around you.

Finally arriving at the door of the meeting room, which was located in the base, the two guards standing in front of it immediately opened the door as soon as they saw the colonel.

The room was quiet at an instance, when you stepped a food inside, Rick following very close behind you — just in case something should happen.

Amanda Waller stood in front of a group of suit wearing men who all sat at one big round table, most likely discussing something. She gestured you to come next to her, to which you complied.

“And who is this now, Director Waller? A new addition to your group of- freaks?”, asked one of the men as he looked you up and down, probably doubting that someone like you could be much of an good asset.

“This, Gentlemen,”, she grabbed your arm and moved you a little forward, making you almost tumble “is Y/N L/N or ‘Shadow’, he was an assassin for almost five years now, working for several other bad guys. Nobody got a hold of him till now due to his teleporting ability. He has over a hundred confirmed kills and not once did anyone ever get near him. I’m using these electric cuffs”, she grabbed your arm again and lifted it up to present the metal cuff, which was secured around your arm “to block his powers, which means he cannot teleport, as long as the electric shocks are on full power. As soon as I turn down the power a little, he can use his power, it is more draining and limited to a certain radius, but it works. I have him under full control and I want him on the team.” Murmurs broke out between the people in the room, as soon as she finished.

“I’m sorry, director, but do you really think it’s a good idea to put another- another misfit on that team? They’re bad guys and will always stay bad guys, and their freaky abilities make them even more dangerous.”, one of the men in suits spoke.

“As I said, I have him under full control, gentlemen. Let me demonstrate.”, Amanda spoke, turning to you, as the people sitting at the table sat back.

Waller took out some kind of remote and tapped on something. First your body tensed due to all the stress and pain you were under at the moment, but as soon as Amanda tapped on the remote, the electric shocks suddenly weren’t as intense as they were before, and your whole body relaxed, your eyes almost watering due to the wave of relief washing over you.

Rick was more than tense while watched the whole situation, only realizing in how much pain you actually were when Waller turned down the intensity of the electric shocks emmitting from the metallic cuffs you were wearing.

Waller looked you in the eyes with a serious expression on her face. “You disobey, you die, got that?” And suddenly you remembered the injection they gave you, when they first brought you here.

Seeing you had no other choice than obeying her, you simply gave her a small nod and looked around the room, taking in every detail. You looked at the small table in front of you, spotting a sharp knife, which you figured was put there by Amanda specifically for you in this exact situation.

With fast movements, you grabbed the knife and teleported to the other side of the room, holding the knife to one of the mens throat. Everyone in the room stiffened even more, and you heard at least three guns clicking.

Looking up, your eyes met Rick’s, before you looked over to Waller, who was already fixated on you. You slowly pressed the knife more against the man’s throat, wanting to see what Waller was going to do. The next electric shock came and you almost yelled out in pain, letting the knife fall, teleporting back to Waller and falling to your knees, clutching the metal around your neck.

Rick wanted to rush to help you, but was quickly held back by Amanda, gesturing him to wait.

“As you can see, I can control his powers however i want to, and should he disobey in any way, or should his powers bolt”, she tilted your head with her finger, than pressed onto the spot on your neck where they injected you, “he dies.”

Still staring at the ground, you swallowed harshly. You’ve never wanted to go back in time and undo all the bad things that happened so badly like in this specific moment. Maybe if you’re parents hadn’t ever found about your ability, you would still be at home, with your family, not here, being tortured by some government lady who wanted to use you as a weapon.

“There’s one more thing. I don’t need him on any mission in this shape. He needs to recover, quickly, and while doing so, I want him under Rick Flags complete supervision. It might cost a little more effort, but think about of how much use he will be for us”, Amanda said, a mischievous expression crossing her face for a few seconds, that going unnoticed by you and pretty much everyone else in the room.

time skip

Three whole months had passed. You’ve been staying with Rick ever since Amanda Waller announced that he had to fully supervise you.

The time you spent with Rick made you feel as if everything wasn’t so bad after all. Occasional talking here and there, Rick cooking something for the both of you every now and then, you almost felt normal again — weren’t there the electric cuffs reminding you of what was real every few minutes.

Over the past three months, your sleep only got worse. You got used to the constant pain by now, but the electricity didn’t only affect you physically, it also messed up your thoughts like hell. Sometimes you didn’t know where up and down was anymore, everything was all over the place inside your mind.

That was also the reason, you were up right now, in the middle of the night, sitting at the big window in your bedroom, looking over the city. You hugged your knees tightly to your chest, and rested you chin on them, letting a few tears slip. You hadn’t cried in a long time, but you were just so exhausted. You were never this close to giving up than right now. Nothing seemed to ever be okay again, you couldn’t do anything but accept your fate.

Being to entangled in your own thoughts, you didn’t hear your bedroom door open.

It didn’t take Rick a long time to spot you in your place at the window. He just came home from a mission that Amanda Waller had wanted you on, but Rick insisted on giving you a little more time to deal with everything.

The tall man closed the door as quietly as he could behind him, which seemed to not be quiet enough, since you jumped slightly at the noise, quickly standing up and turning around. Rick gave you an apologetic look, before slowly walking towards you, “I’m sorry, I should’ve knocked, I just wanted to check up on you and see if you’re alright-“ “It’s fine, I’m fine”, you interrupted him, wiping your tears quickly, taking a deep breath.

Rick frowned, he had never seen you cry before. He cared too much for you and he knew it, he just couldn’t help himself. Stopping in front of you, he looked down at you, only for his eyes to meet yours. For a moment, you both got lost in each others eyes, before you ripped your gaze away, looking to the side.

“Do you want anything else from me?”, you asked shakily, getting a little nervous with his burning stare on you.

“I actually do, yes-“, he hesitated for a moment. You looked up at him with a questioning expression. “Close your eyes”, you complied, closing your eyes slightly, one hand moving to hold onto Rick’s shirt so you didn’t lose your balance. You felt him lean down slightly, till you could fell his warm breath on your cheek. You surpressed a shiver, as he carefully tilted your head.

Now, you didn’t really know what to expect; you and Rick had gotten closer but you weren’t sure, if there were actual romantic feelings, or if he just pitied you, so a kiss wasn’t exactly what you expected. But you definitely would’ve expected it more than what happened next.

A small ‘click’ echoed through the dark room, the next thing you knew was, that all the pain suddenly disappeared. Your eyes watered when you felt Rick’s fingers carefully removing the heavy metallic cuffs around your wrists and neco, pure relief washing over you. Your leaned your body onto Rick’s, unable to support your own weight for a few moments.

When you had finally gained control over your own body again, you moved back a few centimetres and looked up to Rick, who met your confused eyes. “I couldn’t bear to see you in so much pain any longer, so I triedmy best to convince her and I’d say I’m lucky that she trusts me with you.”, the colonel smiled a little, raising a hand to softly carress your cheek. Your eyes widened. He quickly removed his hand again and apologized, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

Rick took a step back, still being careful so you didn’t lose balance again, “I should go, and you should sleep, you need to be well rested and-“

You were fast to interrupt him by taking a quick step towards him, getting a little on your tiptoes, before pressing a small kiss to Rick’s lips. You carefully looked him in the eyes again, “I don’t know either, but it just felt like the right thing to do.”

It took the man a few seconds to process what just happened, but when he did, he was quick to kiss you again, his soft lips over yours, moving slowly, as you kissed back. He put his hands on your waist, while you locked yours behind his neck. You kissed for a few moments, before the both of you had to breathe again. “Thank you”, you whispered against Rick’s lips, before receiving another small peck. “Sleep with me tonight?”, he asked quietly, getting lost in your eyes again. You gave him a small nod, allowing him to pick you up and carry you to his room, both of you smiling as you fell onto the mattress.

#suicide squad #rick flag #y/n #rick flag x male reader #male reader

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katyasrussianaccent · 3 years

Text

you’re so golden (corpse x reader)

Summary: You’re a faceless youtuber that sings cover songs. What happens when a certain faceless streamer slides into your DMs after you cover one of his songs?

Authors note: Part 3 whoop! I havent written fic in 3 years so Im hoping this is okay. Its about 4000 words, super long, sorry. I also dont play Among Us, but hopefully its not too obvious. Lemme know what you think!

You're nervous, though you aren’t quite sure why. The kind of nervousness that spreads to your feet, causing you to tap your toes against the side of your sofa.

Call you in 15.

You look at the message again, staring at it till the screen goes blurry. Rubbing your eyes you exhale into the emptiness of your apartment; a feeble attempt at calming yourself down.

Logically it’s stupid to be nervous over a phone call. Logically you know that in the grand scheme of the universe, there are bigger things at hand. But you’re not a logical person, never have been. You’re all heart and emotion, both a blessing and a curse. There’s something intimate about a phone call, to have nothing but someone’s voice on the other end of the phone, talking to you and only you. It was a little scary; to think your purely online friendship with Corpse was going to be taken to a different level. You’re excited to think what that could mean.

“Fucking get it together,” you mutter to no-one as you exhale again, because there’s nothing else to do other than to wait and try to breath. There’s this frantic energy about you; like when you eat fizzy sweets, the flavour buzzing on your tongue. Your ancestors used to hunt wolves and here you were nervous over a single phone call.

The silence in your apartment’s too much now; too noisy. You grab your TV remote, clicking onto Spotify to find something. You’re scrolling so much, none of the artists feeling quite right for the moment before settling on Sufjan Stevens.

The dulcet tones fill the space, and for a brief second, you feel fine. You’re feeling relaxed and then your phone lights up.

Incoming Facetime Audio

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck” you say. Your face feels warm, your heart quickens in your chest. You could just ignore it, say you’re not feeling too good and that would be that, you wouldn’t have to do this. But it’s Corpse, you like Corpse and you’re kind of friends.

You swipe to accept the call, and press the button for speaker.

“Hey,” you say, cringing at the meek tone your voice has taken on.

“Hey,” Corpse’s deep voice rumbles through your tiny speaker, distorting slightly and you press the volume button to turn it down a little.

There’s a beat of silence, a beat too long, and you already hate how awkward this is. You’re not great at social stuff, the concept of being a social butterfly is almost foreign to you. And it’s not because you dislike people, it’s just you hate this; the small talk, the awkwardness before you get comfortable and can hold an actual conversation.

You suddenly remember a tip from your customer service days. “How are you?” you ask, plastering on a grin so wide that it must look borderline demented. Thank god you’re single.

“I’m okay thanks, how are you?” he asks.

You lounge back against the soft cushions of the sofa, lifting the phone up to your mouth as you do so. “I’m good, excited to be taught by the Among Us master.”

He snorts in disdain. “Hardly a master.”

You chew your lip before you speak again, “I dunno, people on the internet think you’re pretty good.”

He snorts again, and you smile at the sound. It’s not something you’ve heard from him before, through your hours of watching his streams, you’ve become accustomed to his voice and the noises he makes. But this one seems to be new. And maybe it’s the weird, selfish part of you that likes to think he’s only ever made that sound for you. You shake the thought out of your head, because really? Getting happy over a snort is really such a ridiculous thing to do.

“People on the internet say a lot of things.”

“True, but sometimes they speak the truth,” you reply, moving to get more comfortable; tucking your feet under your thighs. You wonder what he’s doing right now as he talks to you, is he sitting down? Or is he lying on his bed; his head propped up with pillows? There’s a brief flash of yearning, of wanting to be there in the same room as him, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared so you ignore it.

“Hm. We’ll agree to disagree.”

“Okay, you’re the boss Mr Husband.”

He chuckles softly, and again, you smile. You can feel yourself getting annoyed with yourself; you’re acting like a child with a crush; smiling at the phone. All you needed now was a notebook that had Mrs YN Husband written all over it.

“You know if you keep calling me that, we’re gonna have to get married,” he says, his voice a little lower than it was before. You blink and cock your head to the side, looking at an imaginary camera like you’re in The Office. Did you say that out loud? Is he...flirting with you? Sure, you’re flirty over Twitter, but it’s Twitter, Twitter isn’t real. There’s a fluttery feeling in your stomach at the mere prospect that he might actually be flirting with you.

“I’d be the best wife you could ever get,” you shoot back. There’s a brief second of silence before he answers, and you can hear shuffling on the other end. You want to ask what he’s doing, but you know it would break the conversation, and you’re curious to see where this goes.

“Oh really? And why’s that?” he asks, and you can picture the smirk in his voice. You have no idea what he looks like, no real care about it either, but you bet he’s got a beautiful smile. You bite your tongue before it tells him this, for once your brain actually works and stops you from making a fool out of yourself. It’s incredibly strange, how quickly he puts you at ease without a try, he’s just so naturally comforting. He’s not this flashy persona, he’s just a guy who likes to play video games and happens to be kinda good at them. And also has a voice that is literally like chocolate. Not just chocolate; dark chocolate. If dark chocolate could talk, it would sound like Corpse.

“Cos your girl can cook,” you say proudly, puffing out your chest a little. And that’s not a lie, you can cook. Okay, you’re not a Michelin starred chef, but you feel quite confident in the fact that Gordon Ramsey could eat your food, and probably (hopefully) wouldn’t scream that it was “fucking raw”.

“And what would you cook for me?” he asks.

You hum in thought for a second. “You’ll have to marry me first to find that out.”

He laughs, a proper laugh that settles in your stomach, spreading warmth through your chest. “I’ll think about it. I can hear music, what are you listening to?”

You straighten up a little, the question catching you off guard. You bite the inside of your cheek as you look at the song that’s playing. It’s not his type of music, you’re almost positive about that. You almost don’t want to tell him out of embarrassment. You’re not sure why you feel embarrassed; you know Corpse isn’t an asshole, he wouldn’t make fun of you. But music is so personal to you, so personal, it’s like baring a piece of your soul; which sounds so fucking cliche, but it’s true.

“Uhhh...It’s called Make out in My Car by Sufjan Stevens,” you reply.

He hums in affirmation. “It sounds nice; from what I can hear.”

“I can turn it up?” you ask, leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.

“You could always sing some for me,” he offers.

You laugh a little, scrunching up your nose. “And why would I do that?”

“I thought you wanted to get married. You have to woo me,” he replies.

“Woo you?” you ask, your tone incredulous. This isn’t how you pictured the conversation going.

“Yeah. Woo me, yn.” he says, dragging out the “o” causing you to laugh again.

You sigh dramatically. “I haven’t warmed up or anything, it’s gonna sound so bad” you warn as you put the song to the beginning.

“I’m sure you sound great. Go ahead, woo me.”

You shake your head as you softly sing. “I'm not trying to go to bed with you, I just wanna make out in my car. And though I'm dying to fall in love with you, I just wanna make out in my car”. You stop and you’re suddenly very aware that you have essentially just serenaded him. Good going, brain.

It’s silent for a beat too long, and the smile that graced your lips starts to fade as the embarrassment starts to set in.

“Well now we definitely have to get married,” he affirms. And there’s that fluttery feeling again.

You swallow, moving the conversation swiftly onto Among Us. You grab your laptop that was next to you, humming in acknowledgement as he walks you through downloading it.

“So there’s a few of us joining us tonight, it should be really fun.”

“Oh. It’s not just us two?” you ask. You focus on the download, watching the number increase. You’re nervous at the prospect of playing with other people, strangers, for the first time.

“No, it’s a 4 player minimum. We’re going to stream as well.”

“Corpse…” you start. You begin to pick at the skin around your nails, a habit you do whenever you get really anxious. This was meant to just be a cute moment where you learnt how to play a game, not a big event where people would be actually watching you, judging your every move.

“We’re going to do a few games off stream with you, you don’t need to be there for the stream after if you don’t want to,” he interrupts.

“Okay,” you trail off, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip. You feel a little better, but not by much. You didn’t know who the other people were, what if they hated you? You ask this out loud.

“I’ll be there. You know Rae and Sykkuno. Felix, Sean and Toast will be there but they’re super nice, I promise.” His voice is sincere, and it soothes you. You don’t know him, not really know him, but you trust Corpse. You know he has his own struggles, and you believe his promise; he wouldn’t screw you over or put you in a situation you were uncomfortable with.

The rest of the call is him taking you through how to play and how to set up something called Proximity Chat so everyone can talk to each other in the game. He says it’s easier once you actually play, and it doesn’t sound particularly hard quite honestly, you just hope you don’t get imposter on the first try because you’re not the greatest liar.

The game screen pops up, and you type in the code that Corpse gives you. You say goodbye to Corpse, who tells you to text him if you need any help. You drop into the game lobby, and you look at the little astronaut. There’s no time to dwell as a cacophony of voices hits you.

“YN!” Rae screeches and you chuckle at her enthusiasm. You’ve known Rae for a few years now, you met at college and had become fast friends. Though you had many different interests - gaming for one, you considered her your best friend. Rae was the type of friend where you didn’t need to talk every single day, you could message her a week later and it would be like no time had passed at all. And you loved that, sometimes you just didn’t want to talk to anyone. Sometimes your mood wasn’t the best, and you needed a little time to recharge. And she understood that, something that you were eternally grateful for.

“Raebies!” you screech back, using your “pet” name for her.

“I’ve been trying to get you to play forever. But Mr Smooth Operator over there slides into your DMs and suddenly you’re a gamer now?”

“It sounds so sordid when you say it like that,” you reply.

“Hi yn! Glad to see you playing with us,” Sykkuno says. You greet him and the others, making sure to say hi to everyone in the game. You didn’t want to start off by being accidentally rude. You listen as everyone talks amongst each other, and you talk when spoken to, but you aren’t interjecting. It wasn’t anything against the other players, it was just a little overwhelming, and you were figuring out what everyone was like.

“Hello,” Corpse’s voice interrupts your train of thought and you greet him along with everyone else.

“Aw, I wanted purple,” you say, frowning at Corpse’s name above the astronaut.

“We can switch,” he replies.

“No it’s o -” you start to speak before you realise he’s already switched to white. “Thank you, you didn’t have to.” You smile as you switch to purple, and you decide to add a flower for a little pizzazz.

“It’s your first game, I’ll kill you if I get imposter so it’ll even out,” he jokes and everyone laughs. The countdown begins and you puff your cheeks out, exhaling as it gets to 1. You’re nervous again, a seemingly common theme of the night. Your shoulders relax as the word CREWMATE flashes across the screen.

You watch as everyone but Corpse disperses from the cafeteria with haste, and you look at the keyboard to press the buttons to move.

“You ever see an old person text? That’s how I’m picturing you right now,” Corpse says as you walk together to Weapons.

“Shut up Sonny,” you reply in your best old woman voice, getting a laugh. You open up the task, shooting the Asteroids with ease. “Yay, I completed a task!”

“Good job,” Corpse replies, and you beam at the praise. You move down to o2, doing your task while Corpse does his.

“Wait, you could be imposter right? How would I know?” you ask as you walk together to Navigation.

“You wouldn’t, you just have to trust me,” he says, his voice full of charm.

You scowl. “Well that just makes me not want to trust you.”

Before he replies, there’s a blaring alarm. DEAD BODY REPORTED. You blink at the suddenness; you were really enjoying the relaxing pace of the game. You look at the screen; Felix has been killed.

“Who found the body?” Corpse asks.

“I did,” Rae answers. “I was in admin, and was going to lower engine and it was there in storage.”

“If you were in admin, why didn’t you go up through Cafeteria?” Toast asks.

“Because it’s quicker to go through storage,” Rae replies. They argue between themselves, and you listen intently and silently. It’s a lot of information, you can’t tell whose lying, but you guess that’s what makes a good player.

“Where were you yn?” Sean quizzes, and it takes you a second to realise you’re being spoken to.

“Oh. I was in um o2?”

“You don’t sound too sure there, pretty sus,” he says. Your face heats up a little, you’re not the imposter, but it feels like you are.

“She was in o2 and then we went to Navigation,” Corpse answers, and you breathe out as he takes on the interrogation.

“Oh you were together?” Rae asks, and you know that tone she’s got. It’s the tone that says she’ll be messaging you right away.

“Well yeah, it’s her first game, I’m not gonna leave her alone,” he says and you smile at that.

“Yeah we’ve been together the whole time,” you add and it’s left at that. No-one votes anyone out, since no-ones really too suspicious. You carry on the game, and you find yourself really enjoying it, though the questioning part is kind of stressful. You can see why Corpse likes it so much, it’s really fun. You’re in electrical, humming as you do your task when Rae comes next to you.

“Hey,” you greet her.

“I’m sorry, nothing personal,” she replies. Before you have a chance to say a word, she kills you and you look on in shock as your ghost floats above your body. You listen into the meeting as Rae continues to lie and plead her case. She’s good, but Corpse knows better.

“Wait, you said you found her in electrical and you were where?”

“I was in Upper Engine, and then I went to electrical to do my task,” Rae answers, her voice even and calm.

“I was in Lower Engine, and I didn’t see you,” Corpse says, and you grin at the fact Rae’s been found out. That’s what she gets for killing you.

“You were doing your task, I passed right by you,” Rae starts. She pleads her case, but it’s too late and she’s voted out.

“That was so much fun!” you declare. “I can see why you guys play it all the time.”

“Yes! We have converted another!” Felix shouts in victory.

“And all it took was Corpse,” Rae mutters sarcastically.

“Don’t get bitter Rachel, just get better,” you reply, causing the group to laugh.

You get the hang of it after a few games, and find yourself agreeing to stay while the others stream, though you decide against it yourself. You’ve only streamed once by yourself, and it was a very casual affair and you don’t want to feel too much pressure while you enjoy yourself. You know that Corpse gets nervous when he streams and he’s been doing it for so much longer, so you can only imagine how nervous you would be.

You tap your fingernails against the keyboard as the lobby counts down, any previous nerves have been replaced with excitement.

IMPOSTER flashes across. You’re the only one, your astronaut looks lonely on the screen by itself, and the red letters almost taunt you.

“Shit,” you mutter as your brain goes into overdrive. What was it Corpse had said before? Not to be too obvious. You don’t kill immediately, instead going at your previous pace to not look too suspicious. You were still fairly new to the game, and you were going to use that to your advantage.

You fake your task in Cafeteria before venting over to Navigation where Toast was.

“Hi Toast!” you greet, coming to stand next to him as you pretend you’re doing the task.

“Oh hey yn,” he says. It doesn’t seem like he suspects you, and you’re not quite sure when to click the Kill button. You do it anyway before running out and going down and into shields. There’s adrenaline running through you as the dead body’s reported and you crack your knuckles before putting on your game face. You were going to play dumb, play the confused newbie - because to them, that’s what you were.

“YN, where were you?” Corpse asks. Fuck. Maybe you weren’t going to get away with this.

You twiddle your hair as you draw out your words, playing the role perfectly. “Uhm I was in...shields? I think that’s what it’s called. I was in the cafeteria before that though.”

“Wait, you couldn’t have, I was in weapons. I would have seen you,” Sykkuno says.

You open your mouth to talk. “She could have vented,” Felix comments, and the rest of the group starts to agree.

“Guys, I don’t even know what venting is. I literally just started playing,” you point out, giggling.

“That’s true,” Rae agrees and you knew there was a reason you loved her.

“Bullshit! She’s playing you with her “oh I don’t know how to play” schtick,” Felix proclaims.

“Aw, that’s kind of rude, Felix. I’m just enjoying the game, doing the tasks,” you say, pouting a little. He’s the next on your list.

Everyone skips the vote and you lean over your laptop, ready for the next round. You were going to win this. You kill Rae and Toast next, and yet again, manage to worm your way out of any suspicion. You can sense that Corpse and Felix are starting to get suspicious of you, and you know you need to bring out the big guns to throw them off.

You catch Sykkuno in Med Bay after checking the cams in Security.

“Hi yn!” he greets, and you almost feel guilty as you kill him. He’s so sweet and innocent, but unfortunately, casualties are a given. You pass Felix as he comes out of reactor and it’s only a matter of time before you’ll have to talk your way out of this one again.

“I passed yn as I came out of reactor,” Felix shouts with a hint of glee.

You roll your eyes; this is going to be tough. “Yeah I came from Upper Engine, I was finishing part 2 of a task.”

“I was in Electrical, where was the body?” Corpse asks.

“Med Bay. And the only one that could’ve been there was yn,” Felix starts.

“Well no, you could have passed me and killed Sykkuno then self reported,” you reply. “I think you can do that right?”

Corpse hums in agreement. “Oh come on! She’s being really sus,” Felix argues.

“You are being a little sus yn,” Corpse comments.

“Corpse. You don’t really think it’s me do you?” You decide to lower your voice a little, your tone sweet but sultry. “You only taught me like an hour ago, there’s no way I’d be able to fool everybody so quickly.” You get close to the mic so it’s like you’re speaking only to Corpse. “Remember what I said? You’re a master at this.” You’re laying it on thick, and for a brief second you think you’ve been too over the top.

“This is difficult,” Corpse says, and you see the seconds count down, your heartbeat starts to quicken.

“Corpse, stop being a fucking simp and vote her out!” Felix demands.

“Corpsie baby,” you drawl out and you smile in success as you hear him sigh, almost shakily. You’ve got this in the bag. The victory screen flashes up and you cheer.

“Fuck yeah!” you shout, patting yourself on the back. You laugh as you exhale the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Good game yn!” Sykkuno comments, the others agreeing.

“Not fair, you used your womanly wiles against Corpse,” Felix says.

“Gotta use them for something. Not my fault Corpse knows where his allegiance lies,” you reply laughing a little.

You stretch, your back crying out in pain from being hunched over so long. You let out a long, loud moan of relief as you straighten your spine, your shoulders relaxing as you move from side to side.

“Your mic’s not muted” Corpse points out, clearing his throat. You feel your stomach drop and your face instantly becomes hot. Shit.

“Oh. Uh. I totally forgot about that,” you say, forcing out a chuckle. You screw your eyes shut, any happiness has been now replaced by red hot shame. “So this was fun, uh, really fun, but um, I’m gonna, I’m gonna go. So...yeah. Bye guys, have fun!”

You click to exit without giving anyone a chance to say a word, and drop your head into your hands.

“Can’t wait to see what they say on Twitter about this,” you mutter into your hands.

TAGLIST (if youre bold, it wont let me tag): @teenageguitarist @fanworrior @cherry-piee @mirahg @clara-bee @cookinglovingalien @vir-tual @clubfairy @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @more-like-reyna @boiled-onionrings @moneybagmgk @brendalopez99 @delicateavenuenacho @dreamsofficialwife @hydrate-tion @little-red02

#my fic #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse husband #corpse husband/reader #corpse husband fic #corpse husband x yn #corpse x you #corpse husband x you #corpse x fem reader #corpse x reader #corpse fic #corpse smau #corpse imagine

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lovelybarnes · 3 years

Text

reckless- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, platonic!sam wilson, platonic!natasha romanoff, platonic!steve rogers

warnings: mentions of injuries, descriptions of fighting, angry bucky, a horrible ending, i kind of really hate this

about: “the things i feel for her are unlike anything i’ve ever felt before.” for a sleepover!

i actually wrote another one with the same quote but i didn’t think it fit so i changed it (that one will be posted tomorrow or the day after so i can edit it)

you’re annoyingly reckless to a point where it gets dangerous.

he’s told you this a thousand times before but you don’t listen- aren’t listening at the moment.

he knows it’s ironic that he’s being reckless by not paying attention to what’s going on, too concentrated on you- even if you’ve told him countless times that you literally can’t die (to which he responds with a “you never know!” because, really do you?)- but he has a metal arm and sam, who’s been hovering around him like a vulture after noticing his lack of concentration.

before he can react to it, a slimy arm is promptly cut off by you, the blade you threw now back in your hands and stained green with the things’ blood. you scowl at it and shoot him a dirty look, “pay fucking attention!” you demand, shaking the weapon haphazardly to get the goo off. he can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth but rolls his eyes and obeys, knocking an ugly alien down and crushing its chest with his boot.

he can still hear your cocky remarks and giggles- yes, giggles, you giggle when you fight life threatening menaces- paired with the gross sounds of your knife impaling the aliens they’re fighting. it’s the only thing keeping him from practically babysitting you, a reassurance that you’re there, careless and impetuous, but alive and close.

suddenly, he can’t hear you, and he turns to what he quite possibly believes to be the most disgusting thing he’s seen in his life (and it’s been a long one, so far). you’re blue, covered in a slimy substance, and your face is so red, it’s beginning to look nearly purple with the cyan sheen over it. you screech abruptly, wiping at your face angrily and jumping at the thing that probably did that to you. he nearly feels pity for it. nearly, because, in your rage, you hadn’t even noticed the large gash along your shoulder. before he can go to you before you kill yourself, his metal arm feels like it’s being sucked, taking him with it, and he grunts. “what the fuck-” he manages, unsure of what he’s looking at, but trying to cut through the sticky arm attached to his own. you’re there in five seconds flat, still blue and still angry, which he notices makes the slicing through the appendage easier.

you seem to decide to stay with him after that, and he’s not sure if he’s offended because you don’t think he can take care of himself- which is ridiculous, since this only happened because he was taking care of you- or touched.

“god, i wish i had wanda’s powers. chaos magick works a lot faster than causing chaos,” you complain, trying to wipe away the blue sludge at the same time and wincing when it tugs at your injury. he is reminded of the shoulder wound he nearly got his arm ripped off for trying to warn you, and he stops your hand. “you’re bleeding, you should probably be a little more careful with this.” he motions to your arm, avoiding touching it.

you frown at him, “it’s fine, it’s just a little cut.” (it’s most certainly not a “little cut.”)

“y/n-”

you extend the hurt arm over him and flick your hands when you see an alien about to rip bucky’s head off, a grimace passing your face that he sees but you try to cover up anyways. “see? it hurts you, you need-”

“i just saved your life, would a hurt person be able to do that?” you cut him off, and he stares at you. noticing a green thing coming up behind you, he grabs your waist and moves you out of the way, shooting it with his gun and watching as it drops to the ground. “ow!” you protest, “you hurt my-” seeming to realize you’re about to prove him right, you shut up and roll your eyes. “you’re welcome,” bucky huffs, wiping away some of the blue stuff from your cheek.

your cheeks warm against his touch without your permission, and you turn away. bucky smirks at your reaction.

“shut up,” you grumble, extending your fingers and aiming at a group of the aliens ganging up on natasha. they freeze for the few seconds they’re under your control, and nat manages to take out two in the moment. the three left break out of the trance, turn to each other, and begin to fight. natasha makes eye contact with you in a form of thanks and starts to take the rest out. you hear a gun go off behind you and turn to see one of the things that sprayed you on the floor. bucky saved you again, great, it’s not like he’ll rub it in your face forever.

“you need to pay attention, what if i’m not here?” bucky scolds. “then never leave,” you flirt casually in response. with a few twirls of your finger, most of the aliens stop paying attention to your team and begin attacking their own teammates.

you don’t notice when one of the few unaffected beings picks up a discarded gun and shoots at you twice. bucky moves you away from a head shot, but one lands opposite to the bleeding slash on your shoulder, and the other hits your thigh.

“goddamnit, y/n, pay attention!” bucky growls, holding up your full weight when your adrenaline begins to run out and everything becomes blurry. “‘m fine,” you try to reassure, attempting to stand back on your wobbly legs. bucky doesn’t let you, shooting at as many aliens as he can with one gun. he turns to look at your state after he shoots most of them, allowing the others to take care of it while he tries to take care of you. his metal hand is touching the small device in his ear, telling the others the situation while his other arm holds you up. you might be delirious now, and your eyelids are becoming increasingly difficult to keep up. “hm, i’m not going to die, b’cky.” you tell him, noticing the increasing panic in his voice as he talks to steve. “stop saying that, how would you know if you haven’t died yet?”

his question is confusing for your foggy brain, so you decide to skip it, unknowingly making his worries worse. the blood running down your back isn’t stopping, and bucky stops for a second to lift you up completely, tucking his hand underneath your knees to carry you. at the tug at your thigh, you bite back a scream. bucky pretends not to notice; his hands are covered in a warm red. he’s trying his best to ignore it.

“don’t die,” bucky whispers again and again, making you frown, “how many times do i ‘ave to tell you i can’t die?”

“i’ll believe it when you don’t,” bucky mutters, and the blue sky turns to gray when he’s inside the quinjet. he sets you down on the medbay cot, looking lost as he calls out friday’s name. “yes, mister barnes?”

“y/n- uh-”

“do a scan on me and… and treat accordingly,” you interrupt. “scanning now,” friday obeys, and you turn to bucky. “by the time you figured it out i would have bled out.”

“that’s not funny, y/n,” bucky says seriously. you squeeze your eyes shut for a second, “calm down, i’ll be fine.” friday has enclosed you in some clear glass, red grids letting you know of your condition. “ooh, that’s bad,” you mumble, much to the dismay of your boyfriend. “what?” said boyfriend asks, and you wave him off as best you can- which means a pathetic bounce of your arm- and tell him to let friday do her thing. “we are not done here,” bucky instructs, but sits next to you and holds your hand. you can see his glossed eyes now, you wonder how you didn’t see them before.

“shouldn’t you be fighting?” you ask, a wave of exhaustion crashing over you. rest, your body begs. you’ll comply later. “they’re almost done, the chaos thing you did makes their job a lot easier.”

“‘s what i do,” you say breathily before falling asleep.

you’re still in the quinjet the next time you open your eyes, which lets you know it’s only been a few hours and you’re feeling better already. goddess healing, you think, looking around to see bucky’s hand still around yours. he looks worried, the hard lines usually softened by the sound of your voice as hard as you’ve ever seen them. you squeeze his fingers gently. “bucky,” you coo, “i’m not dying anymore.”

bucky turns to you immediately, squinting, “that’s not funny.” it’s like deja vu, but you’re not sure from where.

a vein on bucky’s neck throbs, and you’re aware that you’re pushing it, so you stop for a second, “i was just kidding, i-”

“no!-” bucky’s voice is near yelling, so he shuts his eyes for a moment, continuing in a lower voice, “you almost died, do you know how terrifying that is? you nearly bled out in my arms.” sam, nat and steve, who were waiting for you to wake up next to bucky, pause when he raises his voice. “bucky-” you start, softer now, trying to sit up. bucky stands, “listen to me!”

steve stands, beginning to put a hand on bucky’s shoulder, “buck-” he’s silenced with a cold look from bucky. sam gets to his feet too, telling steve and nat to give you both a minute. they do, after nat kisses your cheek like she always does when you get hurt. you’re sitting on the edge of the bed now, reaching for bucky, “bucky?”

“you don’t… you don’t know how much you scared me, y/n. you have to stop being so careless,” he says after a few seconds. you furrow your brows, “i’m not careless, i’m confident in my skills.”

“you are. you’re careless and reckless and hasty and i need you to not be,” he says harshly, you frown. “why? i’m fine and i’m always going to be-”

“you don’t- you don’t understand!-” bucky snaps. “then help me understand,” you implore. bucky closes his eyes tightly again, breathing in slowly. “the things... that i feel for you are unlike anything i have ever felt before, and i can’t- i can’t lose you, okay?”

“you’re not going to,” you assure, extending your arms towards him, noting the tiny ache in response. he walks over to you, letting you grab his jaw when he’s close, you run your fingers over his cheeks gently. “i’ll be more careful,” you promise. bucky nods, tucking his face into the dip of your neck. you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, letting him squeeze your waist almost to reassure himself you’re actually there.

“hey,” you say quietly after a few moments, pressing tender kisses to bucky’s cheek, “sit down, i want to do something.” you stand, grabbing onto bucky’s arm when you stumble a little and promise him you’re fine and are taking it easy. you take out the first aid kit from one of the cabinets, setting it down next to bucky, opening it and taking out everything you need. you begin to clean his cuts, putting a pink hello kitty bandaid over one of his particularly bad ones. it’ll be gone within a day, but you can’t resist, and it makes him laugh.

you hum while you dab at a small scratch next to his eye, and he chuckles lowly, you look up at him, “what?”

“you’re still a little blue.”

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 3 years

Note

Omg I have an angsty request that I’m sure is going to rip my heart out and light it on fire. It’s a super long and specific request so sorry if I get carried away:

Okay so reader had an unspoken thing in the glade with Gally but then he “died” so over the course of the events of scorch trials she got closer with newt and they start their own unspoken thing. But then in the death cure, newt (realizing he has the flare) starts encouraging her to reconcile with gally because he knows that he’s gonna die and gally will take care of her? But she’s confused on who she loves but kinda clings to what she has with newt because he needs her. And she’s just heart b r o k e n over newt dying but gally helps put her pieces back together in the safe haven and eventually they have their fluffy first time together?

Thanks!

*Fanfare* *Triumphant Music* I finally finished this one! Sorry it took a while, I really wanted this to be perfect. But I think I'm quite happy with how this one turned out! I hope you like it too, sweet Anon. Btw, I know you wanted smut, but I just didn't think it would fit with this one. Sorry, maybe on the next one!

Over 5.2k words, so strap in for a long one y'all

Possible Trigger Warning: Self Harm

~~~~~~~~~~

During your time in the Glade, you were practically attached at the hip with Gally.

He was your best friend, your first go to whenever you had any issues, and you were the same to him.

After his supposed death, you felt a void in your soul. You took on a nihilistic attitude, nothing in life making sense anymore. You didn't care about what happened to you or around you, you wished you had died with Gally, the idea of it being welcomed with open arms.

The thought of dying brought no anxiety, no dread. Even the thought of dying painfully didn't scare you, you wanted it. Everyday you thought about that spear going through Gally's chest, wanting to feel what he must've felt. You wanted to feel the same pain and fear, you wanted to feel like you were dying too.

No rational side of you could explain why you felt this way. Perhaps, if you felt the same pain he felt, maybe it would give some sort of closure. Maybe it would make you feel like you were still close to him, even in death.

It wasn't too long before you decided to act on those feelings. You had been only a knife to your chest, right where your heart was, hyping yourself up to push the blade into your skin.

You didn't want to kill yourself, no. You wanted your death to be natural, not forced. You'd suffer your own existence until your time eventually came like it did for everyone else. But Newt didn't know this when he happened upon you that night, just a couple centimeters of a blade shredding its way into your skin.

Newt panicked, immediately stopping your from hurting yourself, his heart racing at the thought of being too late. But thankfully, he wasn't.

You tried to seem somewhat normal, but the laughter bubbling from your chest couldn't be withheld, making Newt fear that you had lost your mind. He wasn't too far off...

He knew how much Gally's death impacted you, he knew you were in pain every second of every day, but he never thought you'd go so far as hurting yourself. He just silently patched you up, fearing anything he would say from a good place would only upset you further.

Eventually, you explained why you had done what you did. It obviously didn't sit right with Newt. He wasn't particularly close with Gally back in the Glade, but he knew well enough that he wouldn't want you to be living with this mindset.

After a while in the Scorch, you stuck by Newt the most and you started to get better. You felt so empty after Gally's death, leaving a hole in your heart. Newt helped lead you out of that void, trying his best to fit that empty space. But you knew nobody could replace Gally, not even Newt. You knew that space could never be filled, but just seeing Newt try to be that person for you, it was too endearing not to pull at what heartstrings you had left.

Then the complications happened, so much time spent believing that Gally was dead came crashing down as he stood in front of you all, very much not dead.

You thought it had to be a dream, could he really be here?

It was strange. You thought you'd run to him, leap into his arms and kiss all over his face, but you didn't. You stood next to your friends awkwardly as he took off his gas mask. To think you'd be more outwardly happy that someone you cared about was still alive. But you couldn't help the guilt that you felt when Gally said that they left him to die. Sure, it might've not been specifically directed to you, but you felt the sharp sting of his words resonate through you. It almost felt like a strong invisible force hit your funny bone, the volt of uncomfortable aching pain spreading throughout your entire body and leaving you in a breathless agony.

For Gally, he was overjoyed to see you alive and well. He so badly wanted to go to you, feel you in his arms again. But he knew he couldn't, how could he after how he treated everyone back in the Glade?

He didn't remember a lot, but he knew he killed Chuck. The blurry memories of that day, he saw it every night in his dreams. He remembered the sound of the gunshot, the sudden pain in his chest and not being able to breathe. He saw Chuck laying beside him, his expressionless eyes trained on the ceiling, unmoving. His chest wasn't rising and falling like it should've been, blood seeping through his layers of clothing. The most purest soul Gally ever met was dead, and it was his fault.

Gally couldn't even bring himself to look in your direction, he was too disgusted with himself.

Thomas punching Gally wasn't a big shock, he knew he deserved it. But Newt quickly came to his rescue, stopping Thomas from acting out irrationally. But a part of Gally didn't want the Greenie to be stopped. Being punched wasn't something he enjoyed, but Gally would willingly endure whatever punishment that would be inflicted and he'd accept that he deserved it. But nothing he could do or say would bring Chuck back...

When Gally did finally force himself to look at you, he wish he hadn't. You looked indifferent, which never happened with you. He instantly thought that you hated him as much as Thomas did, but then again, he deserved it.

It was really tough for Gally to keep a conversation with everyone while he took them to see Lawrence, especially when he noticed how close you stuck by Newt. But, he supposed it was only natural to find another person to be close to when you've lost someone else, he still couldn't help the feeling of jealousy that bubbled up in his chest. He hated how good you and Newt looked together, you seemed...happy.

At the moment, you weren't even close to happy; you were confused, and angry.

It sounded terrible, but a part of you was angry that Gally was actually still alive. You had to go through the mourning process, and you hadn't even finished it and now all of a sudden, he was alive all this time. It put your emotions on haywire, the most you felt was confusion, and if someone would've told you what you were experiencing was some sort of a twisted dream, you would believe them. But your feet were too sore and sunburn too irritating for this all to be a dream.

You sensed Newt's eyes trained on you, you knew he was probably worried, but you couldn't decide what for. Was he worried that you'd go back to Gally? Was he worried you'd replace him now that he was still alive? Knowing Newt, he probably just wanted to talk to you, but even then, you would have no idea what to say. What do people feel or say in situations like this? You were certain not everyone has to go through the loss of a loved one just to find out that they weren't gone, right?

It was late, and you were exhausted, as was everyone else; but you stayed awake, attempting to sleep only causing you to toss and turn, and eventually giving up. But someone else was awake, you were shocked to see that it was Newt. "What're doing awake?" He asked, taking a seat next to you.

"Could ask you the same thing." You replied, only getting a look from Newt in response. "Couldn't sleep." You sighed, caving in to his concerned expression.

"I know it's not my place," Newt started, wringing his hands together nervously, "but, you haven't said a word to Gally." You knew he was going to bring that up, you had that feeling as soon as he saw you were still awake. "I know it was a shock, to all of us. But I thought it'd effect you the most, to be quite honest. You two were pretty close..."

You shrugged weakly, shaking your head. "I don't know what to tell you. Was I supposed to react a certain way? Was I supposed to drop to my knees and burst into tears or something?"

Newt grimaced. "No...of course you're not supposed to act a certain way. It's just a bit strange to me that you haven't tried to speak to him at all."

"I don't even know what I'd say to him." You chuckled bitterly.

"I know you and Gally had something, something special. That sort of thing doesn't just go away. You were absolutely gutted after what happened, this is a chance to reconnect. You care about him, a lot."

"Hey, that doesn't change the way I feel about you. I care about you a lot too."

Newt smiled weakly. "I know, but I really think you should go and talk to him."

You could tell he was being sincere, but you couldn't understand why. You two had grown close over the past several months, so why would he want you to reconnect with someone you used to be even closer with? You weren't really given the time to think over it more before Newt was quickly encouraging you to speak with Gally, telling you where his room was, somehow knowing this conversation would happen and finding out beforehand.

Just a few moments later, you found yourself outside of Gally's door, fist extended out to hover over the worn wood, but you couldn't bring yourself to knock. Thinking back to how hard you tried to avoid Gally when he came back, what if he thought you hated him? What if he didn't want to talk to you?

But before you could chicken out, you forced yourself to knock on Gally's door without thinking, soon hearing the thud of footsteps nearing. With bated breath, you waited for the door to open, anxiety gripping your mind so intensely that it almost triggered your fight or flight response. But Gally's almost hopeful and shocked expression when he saw you waiting relaxed you a little bit. "...hi." Gally voiced, the nervous and confused tone to his voice not going unnoticed by you.

"Hi." You replied, your voice probably just as shaky and nervous as his.

"Uh, come in." He said quickly, moving out of the doorframe, his hands slightly shaking when he motioned you to enter his room.

Your heart was beating out of your chest, so fast and hard that you were worried Gally would be able to hear it. Your hands were shaking, as well as your legs as you walked into his room, it was a miracle you didn't collapse right then and there. You tried not to jump as you heard the click of his door closing, you tried to take deep calming breaths before Gally turned to face you, the two of you almost on complete opposite sides of the room just standing awkwardly.

You stared at Gally, your gaze running up and down his body but ultimately stopping to stare at his chest. Tears quickly came to your eyes as you saw how healthy he looked, like a spear wasn't embedded in his chest months ago. You couldn't stop the flow of whimpers that came from your throat, putting your hands up to cover your face in embarrassment. You felt your face start to burn as you felt Gally's arms wrap around you as soon as you started to cry, but his warmth comforting you only caused you to let out more tears.

You never thought you'd be in his arms again.

Gally stood there silently, holding you and just trying to soothe you as best he could. In the back of his mind, he was astonished that you even let him come near you, you had avoided him altogether up until this moment. But the whimpers he heard coming from you, seeing the tears spilling from your eyes, he instinctively went to hug you. He also couldn't ignore the guilt he felt, thinking that you were crying because of him. He hated it. But you hugged him back tightly, burying your face in his chest and trying to stifle your sobs.

"You're here..." You cried softly, "you're really here..."

Gally's lip trembled, tears of his own brimming his eyes at how much pain you must've been in thinking he was dead all this time, your voice giving away your feelings. He exhaled shakily, "I am here." He placed a kiss to the top of your head. "I'm here."

For a few minutes, you and Gally just held each other silently. You both needed this, understanding how badly you missed one another. Soon, you were able to calm yourself, but you still didn't pull away. Gally only pulled away slightly so he could see your face, frowning when he saw your eyes were puffy and tearstained. "I'm so sorry, Y/n."

You furrowed your brows, shaking your head. "What happened wasn't your fault, Gally." You said genuinely. No matter how much pain and anger you felt about what happened to Chuck, you never once blamed him. You knew W.C.K.D. killed him, and every other Glader who died. But Gally's frown told you everything you needed to know; he still blamed himself.

"I should've gone with you." He whispered, resting his forehead against yours. "How can you even stand the sight of me?"

"Because I know you never would've killed anyone if you weren't stung, especially Chuck."

Hearing Chuck's name out loud made tears brim Gally's eyes once more, tightening his fists in anger at himself. "Chuck deserved so much better...he wasn't supposed to die..." He cried, causing you to pull him back into your embrace, rubbing his back while trying to not to cry again.

"None of us deserved to get experimented on."

Eventually, you lead Gally to sit next to you on his bed, holding his hand. It felt so right to be sitting there with Gally, you missed him so much that you despised ever feeling even the slightest bit of anger when you first saw that Gally was alive. But one emotion did not go away, you still felt confused.

While sitting there with Gally, you couldn't help but think about Newt. He was so adamant about you reconciling with Gally, was he hoping that something would happen between you two? You truly cared a lot about Newt, and you knew he felt the same way, so you couldn't understand why he was acting this way.

You sighed softly when you started to feel sleepy, standing up slowly. "I should probably head back."

Gally quickly stood up with you. "Uh, you could stay here if you want?" He stammered, causing you to smile a little.

"That's okay. I already had a sleeping bag set up for me downstairs, so..."

Gally tried to hide his disappointed frown, choosing to walk up to you until you two were face to face. Maybe it was too soon, but ever since he saw you, Gally had the strongest urge to place his lips on yours. He missed your soft lips that he only had the privilege of feeling a few times back in the Glade before everything happened. He gently grabbed hold of your jaw, tilting your face up and leaning forward slowly.

You wanted him, you wanted him so bad. But before his lips could connect, Newt's face popped up in your mind and you couldn't, you forced yourself to turn away.

You tried not to look at Gally's face, knowing that he'd probably look like a kicked puppy. You couldn't, it would be too painful. "It's Newt." Gally frowned, taking a step back.

Your eyes widened, finally taking a glance over to him to indeed see that his expression was one of disappointment and sadness. "I never said-"

"You didn't have to." Gally interrupted. "I see the way you look at him...it's how you used to look at me." You stayed silent, a feeling of guilt washing over you. "I don't blame you, Y/n, for finding someone else. I'd never expect you to grieve over me forever, that's too selfish."

Hearing this, you had a terrifying thought that you needed to voice out loud. "Did you ever find someone else?" You asked nervously, afraid of his answer.

"No..." He smiled weakly, "No one that could ever compare to you."

You hated that you felt relieved, you were the one who seemed to be selfish. But, you couldn't just drop what you had with Newt now that Gally's still alive. You couldn't say anything else, what could you say to that?

"You should get some sleep." Gally said, opening his door and motioning you to get out.

"Gally..." You whispered.

"Please. Just...we have a busy day tomorrow."

You sighed. You couldn't argue with him.

Newt watched you walk back downstairs, getting into your sleeping bag with a very prominent frown. Doesn't seem like it went well, he thought. He felt relieved and frustrated at the same time. Newt really cared for you, he could even go as far as saying he loved you, but he needed you and Gally to get back together, or become friends again at least.

It wasn't too long ago that Newt found out he had the Flare. He saw the black and purple veins slowly travelling up his arm, and the pain, the pain was the worst part. You had already gotten close to him, so he was heartbroken to know that you'd just lose another person you cared for. After Gally, he knew you wouldn't be able to handle another loss. So when Gally showed up out of the blue, it was like a miracle, Newt's prayers had been answered.

Newt felt jealousy, of course, he wanted to stay with you. He didn't want Gally to take you from him, but what use would he be when he was dead or a Crank? He tried not to be angry with you, it wasn't your fault how you were feeling, but he needed to know you'd be okay when he was gone.

Newt did try talking to you about it, but you always changed the subject or simply didn't answer him. Before you all knew it, it was time to start planning Minho's rescue mission. Thomas didn't want to use Teresa, and hearing that only made Newt's anger bubble to the surface.

It wasn't like Newt to lash out like that, he was always so calm and relaxed. Maybe the stress finally got to him, maybe it was something else...

You immediately followed after Newt when he stormed out after yelling at Thomas, not knowing that Gally's sad eyes were following you. You couldn't think of anything else, you just had to know that Newt was okay.

You found Newt on the roof, sitting on the ledge. "Newt?" You asked, concerned. "Are you okay...?" You stepped closer captiously, finally taking a seat next to him.

Newt only smiled bitterly. "No...no, not really."

You sighed, looking out to the horizon, trying to find the right words to say. "We all thought Teresa was our friend...it's okay to be angry."

Newt shook his head. "It's not that."

You furrowed your brows. "Then, why did you lash out at Thomas?"

Newt bit his lip to keep it from trembling. He never wanted you to find out this way. He didn't even want you to know. But after that scene he made, he knew there was no point in hiding it anymore.

Tears came to your eyes as Newt lifted up his jacket sleeve, revealing his discolored arm. You knew what it was immediately, seeing it on every Crank you came across. "No..." You whispered. "No."

"I know I probably shouldn't have kept it from you, but I was scared. I still am."

"We'll fix it!" You quickly said, it sounding more like a plead. "We'll find another cure!"

Newt only gave you a weak smile. "I don't think that's a possibility right now, love. Besides, Minho needs us."

"No, you're not allowed to give up like that, Newt. We'll find something to help you. If Brenda was cured, so can you. Teresa might-"

"Please, Y/n." Newt voiced sharply. "Please...just stop. I don't need false hope."

Before you could say anything else, you heard the roof access door open, Thomas walking up to the two of you. "Y/n, can I, uh, talk to Newt? Alone?"

You looked to Newt, who nodded, signaling for you to leave. You stood up, speed walking inside and down the stairs. The tears kept falling, blurring your vision, and you had no idea what to do. Newt was dying, and there was nothing that you could do about it, and it didn't seem like he was too eager to try and find a cure. You hoped Thomas could talk some sense into him. But in that moment, your feet subconsciously took you to Gally's little apartment. You stood in front of the door in tears, wishing that you didn't feel the urge to find comfort in him when Newt was sick. But, you knocked on the door, quickly placing yourself in Gally's arms as soon as he was in front of you.

Gally didn't know what was wrong, he barely got a good look at your face before you threw yourself at him. But the way you were shaking and whimpering, he knew you were crying, and he didn't have the heart to pull away from you. He walked backwards and shut his door, leading you to sit down on his bed with him. He just held you as you cried, leaning his head down on top of yours until you calmed down. He finally spoke when your cries were just quiet sniffles. "What happened?"

You exhaled a shaky breath, lifting your head to look at Gally. "Newt has the Flare..."

"W-What...?" Had Gally heard that right? Could his mind be playing tricks on him? He just assumed everyone that was in the Glade was immune, that's why they were there, right? But you repeated what you had said, confirming what Gally thought he heard. "I...I'm so sorry..." That's all Gally could say. He wasn't very well spoken in these types of situations, all he could do was bring you back into another hug.

You finally understood why Newt was pushing you to get close to Gally again; he wanted you to be close to someone when he died.

Yet another situation that had you confused. You knew you loved Gally, you always had, he was your best friend. But now you had Newt, he helped you through everything while in the Scorch, helped you try to overcome your grieve and probably saved your life multiple times. How could you possibly make a decision like this?

You and Gally never put a label on what you had in the Glade, and nobody asked either, not even Alby. You both just knew that you cared for one another, that you'd do anything for the other. But as time went on, you felt guilty knowing what you'd ultimately choose. It was always going to be a lose lose for you.

Newt needed you, and you couldn't leave him when he needed you the most.

Gally, deep down, knew what your decision was going to be. You had a big heart. You never would leave anyone behind, even if they were infected. Back in the Glade, Gally wouldn't have hesitated in sacrificing the few to save the many, but you were never like that. You cared about everyone, especially the people who were closest to you. You never were going to give up on Newt, you couldn't now. You would spend as much time with him as possible, what little time he might've had left. And you did, until he took his final breath.

You felt like you were a glass vase that had been shattered, and every time you tried to pick up the pieces, the glass would just cut deeper and deeper into your skin. It felt like life didn't want you to be put back together. Nothing felt real. Everything that happened in the Last City felt like a fever dream. You hoped that one day you'd wake up and you'd be back in the Glade, everyone was still alive. Maybe if you could go back in time, maybe you could save everyone, maybe you could've convinced Gally to listen to Thomas, maybe you could've held off Newt a bit longer in time for Brenda to give him the cure.

A lot of maybe's, a lot of hopes and prayers, never answered.

Now in the Safe Haven, you felt anything but safe.

You didn't talk to anyone for awhile, not even Gally. You had nothing to say, and you were afraid of breaking down in front of everyone. So, you isolated yourself. And then a couple weeks later, you finally felt everything bubble to the surface.

Sitting down somewhere along the coastline, not too close to the water, but close enough that you could feel the salty breeze of the waves hit you gently as the evening cooled when the sun started to go set.

You tucked yourself up into a ball, your knees as close as you could get them to your chest and your arms wrapped tightly around them. And, you cried. And cried. And cried. And cried. The ugly kind of crying. Your tears weren't coming out one eye at a time in a perfectly straight line down your face like in the movies, you weren't making quiet sniffles or whimpers, you were full on sobbing. Tears came out of your eyes so fast that you could barely make out the sun on the horizon, your shirt sleeves were most definitely covered in snot and whatever salty tears it had the chance to catch. Your throat felt like it was being torn apart by how intense your sobs were. The sobs sounded more like you were having a coughing fit, one of those phlegmy hacking coughs that made you feel like you were going to vomit.

You knew you most likely weren't far enough away from the camp to quiet your weeping, and you knew you were just embarrassing yourself, arranging for yourself to be completely humiliated the next morning when you had to face everybody. But in the moment, you couldn't care less. You loss someone so important to you, it felt like losing Gally all over again. But you knew this time, it was final. No surprise resurrections this time. You felt completely, and utterly, alone.

But you never were.

You felt so dissociated and detached from yourself, the wails of grief too much for your body to handle. You couldn't feel anything around you, not the warmth of the sand, not the slight chill breeze, not even Gally's arms wrapped around you tightly. You didn't realize until you passed out from exhaustion, waking up the next morning in a bed that wasn't yours, and a hut that wasn't yours.

Your vision was still a little bit blurry, all the tears from the night previous crusting to the creases around your eyes, making it a bit of a challenge opening them all the way. But, your other sense were intact enough to tell you that bacon and eggs were next to you on a bedside table. You hadn't eaten the day before, so it was mostly a primal reaction to quickly take the plate and gobble up the food.

You still had to rely on context clues to figure out where you were in the camp. As much as your eyes irritated you, they could now finally work once you were wide awake. You probably should've known immediately who's hut it was, but seeing that familiar grey knitted hoodie settled ungracefully over the backrest of a chair, you knew it was Gally's.

You blushed quickly after that realization. How did he know where you were, and how much did he see? The thought of him seeing you in such a state made you cringe. But what was more horrifying was that Gally was right outside the room, waiting for you to wake up. "Hey..." He voiced, his eyebrows knitted in concern, eyes full of sadness.

You had to look away, the heat rushing to your face making you feel like you were going to pass out again. "Hi." You croaked, your vocal cords still sore and raw.

Gally shifted his weight nervously, taking a step closer to you. "I'm sorry, for bringing you here...I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself." You snapped you gaze back to him in confusion, him quickly blushing, scratching the back of his head. "Uh, Newt told me about what you did to yourself after...after the Maze."

You self-consciously rubbed the spot on your chest where a big scar still remained. "I wasn't trying to...you know, kill myself or anything."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you." He said softly, taking a seat on the bed next to you.

You sighed, crossing your arms. "I just...I didn't know what I was thinking."

Gally gently grabbed ahold of your hand, making you uncross your arms, letting his warm hand take yours. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. Newt should be here with the rest of us. He was a good person."

You nodded as tears came to your eyes again, burning enough to make you whimper, and you leaned your head against Gally's shoulder. "I miss him so much." You cried.

Eventually, you and Gally became close again. He was always there for you. Whenever you had nightmares, whenever you were lonely, whenever you needed anything, Gally would always be there. You started to feel your relationship had almost gotten back to the point where it was in the Glade, it had been almost a year, but you still felt it was too early to be moving on. A part of you didn't want to move on, but you knew that's not what Newt wanted either.

You didn't read the note Newt wrote to you when Thomas first gave it to you. The grief was still too near, and you didn't know if you could handle it. But a couple months after your breakdown, you finally read it. Newt loved you, he had always loved you. And he wanted you to be happy, he didn't want you to be sad that he was gone, even though he knew it would be impossible. But he knew you would be okay, he knew Gally would protect you no matter what. Reading his note was part of the reason you knew it would be okay to be with Gally, it just took you some time.

One day, you and Gally were taking a break from working, just sitting near the forest tree line, and you did it; you kissed him, and you couldn't stop, you didn't want to stop. And you didn't, and neither did Gally.

After that, it was almost impossible to spend any time away from each other.

You never thought you'd smile again, but Gally always found a way. He made you so happy, and it made you cry one night when you finally realized that you were happy, and you knew somewhere out there, it made Newt happy.

~~~~~~~~~~

Cries in Español

#the maze runner #the maze runner imagine #newt x reader #newt imagine #tmr newt #tmr gally #gally imagine #gally x reader #gally

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study-coffee-chicago · 3 years

Text

Seasons of Med: Season 1: Glad I Didn’t Make it that Far (A Halstead brothers + Halstead sister! imagine)

Trigger warning: Talk of eating disorders

As always, I do not own any quotes from Chicago Med 1x04 that show up here!

Your age: 14

Jay's age: 28

Will's age: 30

"We should go to a movie," your best friend Emma suggested when you were sitting on the playground of Central Chicago's elementary school one summer day.

You had been coming here since it was pretty close to your house to be able to read without worrying that your dad would show up drunk. He wasn't violent, he was just rude, asking why there was no food and when you explained it was because he wasn't going shopping, he'd scoff and tell you to get a job if you wanted to eat. It wasn't your fault; you'd tried to get a job, but no one would hire you because you were only fourteen. Most places required that you be at least sixteen and the occasional place would let you start at fifteen, but only with very limited hours. And, the places that let you start at fifteen were too far away for you to walk to. You'd have to take the El...and that would turn out badly if Will and Jay found out, even though your dad wouldn't care in the slightest.

"Em, I don't have any money. I'm literally rationing out my feminine products at this point."

"Hey, just tell me if you need any. Me or my mom can get you some. Oh, and some neighbors of mine run a little kettle corn company. They're looking for some extra help on the weekends and they'll pay you under the table. I can give you their number if you want."

"Really?" Emma smiled and nodded. "Yes, please! And, you're the best."

But, what you didn't tell her was that you hadn't eaten since yesterday since there was barely anything in your house and that your cramps were killing you and because of all this, you were feeling nauseous.

"Let's go to the movies. My treat."

"I can't let you pay for me."

"Yes, you can. Best friends help each other out. Now c'mon, let's go." You sighed and closed your eyes as you stood up. "You good?" Emma asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just dizzy."

"You wanna go home?"

"No, no I'm fine. Just seasonal allergies from all the pollen," you lied.

"Okay, let's go."

You started to slow down as you got closer to the movie theater. "I'm so excited to see The Longest Ride!" Emma squealed. "Scott Eastwood is just mwah!"

"Yeah, but he's- he's a lot-- I gotta, I gotta sit down," you stuttered, starting to feel more lightheaded and seeing your vision become blurry at the edges.

"Okay, let's get to the front where you can sit on the curb."

You slowly started to make your way there, but it was too late. "Em- Emma," you slurred as you tried to reach for her as your legs gave out underneath you, and then everything went black.

"Y/N!" Emma yelled as she squatted down next to you and pulled out her phone.

Just then, everyone started running out of the theater shouting something about a shooting.

***

Will's pager went off as he was eating with Natalie and the rest of the team from a taco truck outside of Chicago Med. And, everyone else's pagers were going off, too, making it sound like alarm clocks that were all set for the same time. Then, Maggie ran outside.

"Shooting in a movie theater! Mass casualties! It's about to get crazy!" she yelled to the doctors and other nurses. "EMTs are four minutes out!"

Not even a second after she finished her sentence, an ambulance pulled up with lights flashing and sirens blaring.

"Check that!" Will yelled as he threw his food in the trash can. "They're here!"

Then, all of them sprinted into the hospital, their main focus now being saving as many lives as possible.

"Another maniac gone crazy in a theater," Will said as he put something over his scrubs to keep them from getting blood all over them. "Is this the world we live in?"

***

You slowly opened your eyes to be met with the white ceiling and an IV in your arm. You groaned. "Where am I?" you asked as you rolled over to see Emma sitting on a bench. "Are we in an ambulance?"

"You don't remember?" Emma asked.

"You passed out, sweetie," a female paramedic told you as she put a blood pressure cuff around your arm. "Luckily for you, we came pretty quick after hearing about the shooting."

"The shooting? There was a shooting?"

"In the movie theater," the paramedic answered you. "You were lucky you didn't go in."

"Guess so."

Your eyes widened as you realized they were probably taking you to Chicago Med. You couldn't let your brother know that the most likely reason for you passing out was that you hadn't eaten since yesterday. They'd freak out.

"Am I good to go when we get to the hospital? I feel fine." You were still nauseous, but that was better than being passed out.

"You passed out, we need to get you checked out at the hospital."

"But I feel fine," you protested.

"I understand that, sweetie. But you need to get checked out anyway to make sure that there wasn't something that made you pass out other than the heat."

"She's right, Y/N," Emma said. "You need to get checked out."

You huffed. "Fine." Maybe Will would be too busy to even notice you were there. And, you figured your dad wouldn't pick up his phone, so you could just sneak out undetected when the doctors and nurses weren't watching.

When you got in, you were met by Natalie. "Y/N?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

"It's nothing. I just passed out. I'm fine, really."

"Shoot," Emma said. "My mom's here to pick me up. Said she doesn't want me here because of all the press since I'm not hurt. I'm sorry."

You waved your hand. "It's fine. Hopefully, I'll be getting out here soon, too. See you later."

"Bye, Y/N."

"If you passed out, you're not fine, Y/N," Natalie said.

As you were wheeled past a trauma room, you saw your brother. Luckily for you, he was too focused on his patient that he didn't notice.

"Want me to get Will?" Natalie asked when she saw you glance in there.

"No! I mean, he looks really busy and I'm not dying. They should be the first priority."

"Okay, well I'll have Maggie call your dad because after all the standard tests, if I need to do more, I'm going to need your dad's permission since you're still a minor."

"Okay."

"Hey, Maggie," Natalie called, "Do me a favor and call Y/N's dad for me. I just might need permission to run some additional tests."

"You got it."

You got on the bed in the treatment room and allowed Natalie to listen to your heart and lungs. "Were you part of the crush?" she asked. "Did you get the wind knocked out of you? Is that why you passed out?"

"No, I got dizzy before we could get inside. I felt nauseous, too, but I think that was just from period cramps."

"The paramedics said you were dehydrated and that they had to administer an IV. Have you been eating and drinking properly? I know it's hot and that can cause you to pass out. Other than that factor, have you been eating and drinking normally?"

"Yes," you lied.

"Okay, I'm just going to need to get your height and weight and other vitals before we continue."

You nodded and followed her to where she took your height and weight. She wrote it down and you started to walk out, but she stopped you. "Uh, Y/N, come with me."

You followed her to the doctor's lounge where she handed you her sweatshirt. "Why are you giving me this?"

"You bled through your shorts. There's free pads and tampons in the bathroom if you don't have any on you."

You nodded. "Thank you."

"Meet me back here once you're finished."

"Okay."

When you got into the bathroom, you took all the pads and tampons you could fit in your shorts pockets after you had finished changing your dirty one.

Now, it was time for your great escape. No one would see you; they were all too busy treating other patients and worrying about the press.

You were almost out into the waiting room, but then a voice stopped you.

"Y/N?"

Shit. Jay.

You stopped in your tracks but then continued walking.

"Y/N, I know you heard me. Come back."

You sighed and turned around, hoping you wouldn't have to spill all the secrets about what's been happening at home.

***

"Poor guy," Erin said as she and Jay exited Sharon Goodwin's office. "He thought what he was going was right."

"I probably would've done the same thing if I were in his shoes," Jay agreed. "I mean, if I thought I saw a guy with an AR-15 in a movie theater and then thought the shots from the movie were coming from the gun, I sure as hell would've acted. Not that my service weapon can shoot bullets off as much as my sniper, but I'd try. Try and save civilians."

"Jay." Erin placed a hand on his arm. "You're not in Afghanistan anymore."

"I know. There's just some sick and twisted people in this world. Why would someone go into a theater with a leaf blower anyway? With all the mass shootings that have happened, that's probably the stupidest idea I've heard."

"I agree with you. But he's just a kid. He didn't ask to get shot. But, if I were in that teacher's shoes, I'd probably do the same thing and draw my gun."

Jay furrowed his eyebrows as he saw someone walking towards the exit of the ED and towards the waiting room. She had shorts and a t-shirt on with a burgundy sweatshirt tied around her waist. Jay wouldn't have given it a second thought, but he knew you had the same gray beat-up Converse because he had gotten them for you for a birthday present two years ago and you always wore the same polka dot scrunchie when you needed your hair to be in a bun and needed it to be tight.

"Is that?..." Erin trailed off.

"I think so," Jay answered, quickening his pace to catch up with you before you got out of the ED and he lost sight of you due to the number of people in the waiting room. "Y/N!" he yelled.

The girl he thought was you froze for a split second and then continued walking, this time at a faster pace. That was all the confirmation he needed. "Y/N, I know you heard me. Come back."

You sighed and turned around.

"I was going to tell you," you mumbled once you were in front of him.

He scoffed and crossed his arms across his chest. "Yeah? And when were you planning on calling Dad? You know you're a minor so a parent needs to be notified."

"Y/N!" Natalie yelled. "I thought you left, I was so close to getting security to look for you. We couldn't get a hold of your dad and were going to call Jay since he's your secondary emergency contact, but he's here now, so if both of you could follow me then that'd be great."

"You got it from here, Erin?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, text me if you need me to pick you up and bring you back to the district."

"Will do. Don't let Voight bust my balls because I skipped out."

"I'll tell him Y/N had a medical emergency. He'll understand."

"Thanks."

You, Natalie, and Jay walked back into the treatment room where Natalie had been previously treating you.

"First of all, let me just say it was not a medical emergency," you told your brother.

"Oh yeah? Then why are you here?" he asked.

"I was feeling nauseous."

"And you came to the ED just because of some nausea?" He raised an eyebrow. He so knew you were lying.

Meanwhile, Will was walking out of a trauma room after Rhodes brought a victim up to surgery.

"Hey. You hear?" Reese asked as she walked up to the doctor. "The kid at the theater, the one who got shot, he didn't have a gun, he had a leaf blower."

"What?" Will asked, stunned. He had worked on that kid and knew that it wasn't good.

"Yeah, turns out it was some kind of prank." She was about to turn around to leave, but then stopped. "Oh, and your sister's here. Treatment one."

"What? Why?"

"I think she passed out or something. Dr. Manning's in there with her right now."

"Thanks, Reese."

Will barged into your treatment room. "So, she comes into the ED and nobody has the common decency to even notify me?" he asked rhetorically.

"You were busy treating other patients, Will. I was going to get around to it eventually," Natalie said.

"Natalie, please just finish explaining what happened. Or just start from the beginning because Will's here now," Jay suggested, not wanting to have to break up an argument between the two doctors.

Now it was Will who was the one who crossed his arms over his chest.

"So, Will, what happened was that Y/N passed out. She was almost inside the movie theater, but she passed out, so she didn't go in."

"The movie theater where the shooting happened?" Jay asked. You nodded. "Jesus, kid, if you would've gotten inside, you would've given both me and Will heart attacks."

"Sorry. But, I'm glad I didn't get that far."

"Yeah, us too," Will agreed. "So, why'd she pass out?"

"Can I talk to you two for a minute? Outside?"

They nodded. "Be right back," Jay told you.

"So, what's going on?" Jay asked once the three were safely outside of the room and out of earshot from you.

"Have you noticed anything strange with her eating habits lately? Any skipping meals? Going to the bathroom right after meals? Not wanting to eat?" Natalie asked the two brothers.

"No, nothing," Jay answered. "Granted, we don't eat with her a lot because she lives with our dad and we both live on our own."

"Okay, because since her physical check-up a month and a half ago, Y/N's lost fifteen pounds."

"Fifteen?" Will asked, flabbergasted.

"I thought she looked smaller, but I just thought I was hallucinating from lack of sleep because of all the crazy cases we've had," Jay said.

"No, she's lost fifteen pounds since her last check-up," Dr. Manning reiterated.

"So, what are you saying?" Will asked. "Our sister's anorexic? Bulimic?"

"I'm not saying any of those yet. But, I talked to Dr. Charles while Y/N was in the bathroom and she said to try and have her eat something, like the greasiest thing you can find in the cafeteria, and see what she does. We'll even leave the room after to chat and I'll have Maggie keep an eye on the bathrooms to see if she goes in there. If she refuses to eat or freaks out over it, then we might be dealing with anorexia. If she goes into the bathroom after, we might be dealing with bulimia. Or, it could be a combination of the two or just possibly her trying to lose weight. Has she ever mentioned wanting to lose weight to either of you?"

"No, not all," Jay answered. "Even when we went out after her last day of school, which I think was about two weeks after she had that physical, she ate a ton and she didn't go to the bathroom right after."

"But you did go home right after," Will pointed out.

"Yeah."

"But, with some bulimics, if they know that the food has already been digested, they won't try to purge. And, it sounds like the food had time to digest."

"Alright, I'll go grab her a bacon cheeseburger."

"And a side of mac n cheese," Jay suggested. "She loves that stuff." Will started to walk out, but Jay stopped him once more. "Can you pick me up a bacon cheeseburger, too? I'm hungry."

Will rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but just so you know, you're paying me back."

"I know," Jay said and then went back inside the treatment room.

"Where's Will?" you asked.

"He's getting you some food. How does a bacon cheeseburger and mac n cheese sound?"

God, your mouth watered just at the thought of the bacon cheeseburger alone. The juicy patty, melty cheese, and crispy bacon, yum. And, you hadn't had a burger in who knows how long.

"That sounds amazing honestly," you answered.

"Okay, good because that's what Will's getting you." He paused. "Is everything okay with Dad? Everything good at home?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," you lied.

"Did someone tell you that you were fat at all?"

Shit, he knew I'd lost weight. "No," you answered. "I guess I'm not just mindlessly snacking when I'm doing homework anymore. It's not like I'm trying to lose weight."

No way were you going to tell him that there was rarely any food in the house, not here anyway.

"Okay, good," Jay answered. Then, he looked out of the room to see Will talking with Natalie. But, they were close enough that you could hear them, so you turned your attention to the two as well.

"Hey, Nat," Will said, carrying a bag with three cheeseburgers and a side of mac n cheese.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"I'm thinking, I only live a mile from you. So, when you go into labor, call me. I'll drive you here."

"Thanks, but...you know it could be three in the morning, right?"

"Sleep's overrated anyway."

Then, Will made his way back into your treatment room. "I wanna take you to the hospital," Jay mocked. "Very smooth, Will, very smooth."

"Will's got a crush, Will's got a crush," you said in a sing-song voice.

"Would you two knuckleheads keep it down? And no, I do not have a crush, I was just trying to be helpful."

Jay scoffed. "Yeah right. You totally have a crush on her, man. Now, give us the food and we won't say anything."

***

"Everything seem normal?" Natalie asked Will as Jay was still sitting with you after the three of you had finished your food.

"Yeah, she ate a little faster than normal, but we waited an hour and she didn't even get up to go to the bathroom, so I don't think that's the issue. She told Jay she wasn't trying to lose weight. She said she just wasn't mindlessly eating anymore when she was doing homework. But, I don't think that could make her lose fifteen pounds. Do you?"

"No. But unfortunately, given her height and age, she still has a normal BMI, so we can't do anything."

"Yeah, I get it. Me and Jay will keep an eye on her. It was around this time when our dad just kind of checked out on parenting us."

"What do you mean?"

"He wouldn't cook or really help us with anything. But, it was okay because our Mom was still around, so she'd cook and help us with things. He just thought we were old enough to deal with stuff on our own."

"Things that a teenager without another parent still needs help with."

"Exactly."

Jay poked his head out of the room. "Everything good? Y/N's asking when she can leave."

Will rolled his eyes. "Wonder where she gets that from."

"Shut up."

"I'll grab you the discharge papers," Natalie said and then walked to a nurse's station.

Just then, Will's pager went off. "I gotta go." He fished into the pocket of his scrubs. "You can take my car home and then just come pick me up from work and we can drive back to the district to get your truck. That way you don't have to bug Erin."

"Thanks, man. Go save some lives."

Natalie came back and handed him the discharge papers.

"Thanks, Nat. Me and Will will be sure to keep an eye on her, maybe have her over for dinner once or twice a week to monitor her eating habits."

"That's a good idea. Good luck with all this. Will told me that this was around the time that your dad clocked out on you, so maybe pay him a visit when Y/N's not there and check? I don't know if that's something you'd want to do or not."

Jay nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

"No problem."

Jay signed the discharge papers and then walked back into the room. "Good news."

"We can leave?" you asked excitedly as you sat up.

"We can leave," he confirmed.

***

You got out of the car and stood on the stoop of your house, Jay right next to you. "Jay," you started, "I have to tell you something."

"Okay, what is it? You can tell me anything."

You opened your mouth to tell him that there was barely any food in the house and that your dad refused to buy you feminine hygiene products because, by his logic, if he had another son, he wouldn't need to buy them, so you should buy them yourself.

But then, the door opened, revealing your dad.

"I was just going to say thanks for staying with me at the hospital. I would've left if you didn't stop me."

"You're welcome."

"Care to tell me where you've been?" your dad asked.

You knew he was just putting on a show because Jay was there.

"I was at the park and then me and Emma were going to see a movie and then--" your phone buzzed, alerting you that you had a text message.

"I've got it from here, Y/N. Dad, can I come inside?"

Pat Halstead nodded and you walked inside followed by your brother. "I'm gonna go upstairs and change," you said.

As you walked past the kitchen, you noticed a bunch of grocery bags, all of them full. He must've gone grocery shopping. At least you didn't have to worry about food for the next few days. But, you didn't know if he just did that because he finally listened to his voice mails and heard that you were in the hospital and were worried that they were going to find out that he was an unfit parent or because he finally came to his senses and realized that he was still responsible for you because you were a minor, which meant he needed to have food in the house.

As you walked upstairs, you checked your phone. It was Emma's neighbor asking if you could start helping her with kettle corn this Saturday. You responded with a yes because now, if your dad went back to not buying groceries, at least you'd be able to buy some for yourself.

A/N: Sorry this one was so short! It's kind of just to foreshadow the next installment of this. And, in the next installment, I will probably combine Seasons of PD: Season 4 and Seasons of Med: Season 2 because the storylines kind of go together. Anyway, thank you for reading! Please reblog/like and comment and tell me what you think! As always, if you want to be added to the taglist, just tell me and I’ll be happy to add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e

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