Uvi!

[uncommunicativevanillaicecream]

Hello! You can call me Uvi! I post whatever I want, but it's mostly depressing stuff since this became my new coping mechanism 3 months ago <3

Pronouns: She/Her

Proudly Anti-America! As soon as I get the money to leave...I will! This country is hellish no matter what immoral bastard runs it 💕

Idk how masterlists work so here's my work-in-progress:

Call Of Duty

Dispatch

Creepypasta fandom (empty)

Obey me (empty)

If you recommend I join any fandoms just ask!

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My first SMAU! >A<

Jeff x Ben

Happy Pride month!

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Im literally writing 6 fanfics at the same time and they are all far from finished 😭🙏

Is this considered a disability

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What have I done? I hope it’s not bad (Jeffrey is ugly anyway)

He placed hair over his bald spots, that’s why they’re not there in this picture. >:)

don’t ask why he’s naked I suck at drawing hoodies

Dw I’m working on like 4 fanfics at once it’s a flow state they’ll be here some time in the future 😭

now that I look at it why is his head so flat

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BRO HIS TEETH ARE SO WONKY 😭

[uncommunicativevanillaicecream]

What have I done? I hope it’s not bad (Jeffrey is ugly anyway)

He placed hair over his bald spots, that’s why they’re not there in this picture. >:)

don’t ask why he’s naked I suck at drawing hoodies

Dw I’m working on like 4 fanfics at once it’s a flow state they’ll be here some time in the future 😭

now that I look at it why is his head so flat

[uncommunicativevanillaicecream]

NO, KOKOBOT, I DO NOT WANT TO TALK TO YOU

[uncommunicativevanillaicecream]

I just got double teamed in my own head. 😭🙏 (not in that way) Can someone tell me what I did to get a sneak peak of the tortures of hell?

I was convinced that I was no longer real and I was like writing a fanfic about it because I was weirdly aware of my not existing but also being able to write a fanfic, I finished the fanfic, and then I convinced myself that now that I'm real an unknown evil creature of the night was going to rip me to pieces so I got scared and turned on the lights and now im writing this AND abt to proof read the fanfic (he will come back and murder me if i turn the lights off, and it will trigger every scensory issue I have, my brain says.) 😛😼

What is this hell 😭

[uncommunicativevanillaicecream]

I fear my own head while convinced that I'm not even real 🤨

[uncommunicativevanillaicecream]

I just got double teamed in my own head. 😭🙏 (not in that way) Can someone tell me what I did to get a sneak peak of the tortures of hell?

I was convinced that I was no longer real and I was like writing a fanfic about it because I was weirdly aware of my not existing but also being able to write a fanfic, I finished the fanfic, and then I convinced myself that now that I'm real an unknown evil creature of the night was going to rip me to pieces so I got scared and turned on the lights and now im writing this AND abt to proof read the fanfic (he will come back and murder me if i turn the lights off, and it will trigger every scensory issue I have, my brain says.) 😛😼

What is this hell 😭

[uncommunicativevanillaicecream]

I'm rereading my Sonar fanfic so I can make part 4 😭

I've been writing and improving ALOT since I wrote that. It's been a while. It makes me want to peel all of my skin off and leave it in a pile like an orange peel (can you tell that I'm craving an orange and a tea?)

But since I hate it I can tell that I've improved, so part 4 will be something to be proud of instead of horrified of. Thanks for reading it.

Theres an ad of a man eating in silence on my tv so I will have a mental breakdown over it. Youtube why? YOUTUBE WHY? GET THIS OUT OF MY FACE I HATE IT MORE THAN I HATE THE SKIN OVER MY MEAT AND THE SPINE IN MY BACK FOR THIS MORTAL FORM HAS LIMITED ME. LIMITED ME TO LISTENING TO THIS GODFORSAKEN EVIL ASMR. HES SCRAPING THE PLATE. STOP. STOP. I DONT HAVE A REMOTE. It was a chunky soup ad. 😡

Anyway

Moral of the story: You are your own worst critic, but you can learn from mistakes and eventually you'll love what you do just as much as everyone else does!! 😃

[uncommunicativevanillaicecream]

Period comfort!

Ghost x reader

AO3 link :')

I woke up today and I looked as if I had died, and with the pain I felt I may as well have done just that. 😭

You had fallen asleep peacefully, laying next to Simon, his arms caged around you. You were both mostly naked, skin against skin. The bed was warm and the room was freezing cold– the best circumstance to sleep in. You woke up at 9:00 AM, but you let yourself drift back to sleep. You don’t realize your mistake until you wake up.

It takes you a few seconds to adjust, your head sleepily held up. You’re not where you were when you fell asleep. Now you’re laying half on top of Simon, half on the bed. Your right leg is folded under you– your saving grace. Your sheets are safe.

Your underwear feels weird to you, then the rush of realization comes and you quickly push yourself off of the bed. Simon awakes, startled as well. His voice is tense. “Somethin’ wrong?”

You half groan, half scream. “I slept in my fuckin’ period!”

You grab a new pair of underwear and a robe and hurry to the bathroom. You sit on the toilet, placing your re-colored underwear in a plastic bag. You’ll deal with it later. You lean over, laying on your knees as pain worth 10,000 years of torture surges through your abdomen from your god forsaken, fuckass uterus. Why the hell did it have to hurt so much?

You don’t realize it, but you let out plenty of groans and quiet screams for Simon to hear through the door. He knocks confidently. “Love? D’ya want me to get us a tea?”

You let out an agonized groan before answering, holding your breath to make it through the pain. “Yes, please. As well as a fuck-ton of paracetamol!”

He begins walking down the hall, calling back to you. “Got it.”

You finally start hurting less, so you turn on the shower, allowing the water to steam. It envelops your body in a coat of humidity that brings at least a little comfort. You hop in, relishing the feeling of blood washing off of you. 

Once you’re finished your cramps feel ever so slightly better. You throw on your new underwear, with protection this time, and wrap your robe around you.

You walk down the hallway, hardly in the mood to be moving at the moment. Your legs seem to drag behind you, and your eyes squint in agony. What a grouchy day. You stand next to Simon in front of the kettle, leaning your head on the side of his shoulder. 

He wraps an arm around you and your brain sends all kinds of happy chemicals at you. “Y’Alright darlin’?”

You nod against his shoulder. “I’m in agonizing pain, but you make it better.”

“Well, your tea’s almost ready. Go sit in the lounge will ya?”

You sigh, wrapping your arms around him before leaving. You collapse into an arm chair. Sitting doesn’t come easy for you. It feels a little awkward before you adjust. You curl into yourself, seeking warmth from your robe. You nearly fall asleep again, but before long you hear the pained wails of the tea kettle– similar to the agonized screams of outrage that you feel inside.

It doesn’t take long before Simon arrives with your tea in hand. The entirety of your soul begs for it. He places his own down on the nearby table, but before placing your tea for you he takes a moment to blow on it. “Very hot.”

You feel tears beg to fall from your eyes. Your eyes water, but nothing comes of it. He’s such a kind softie. He slides a napkin toward you, two pills placed on top. “Here’s your paracetamol. Extra strength– as you…asked.”

You place the pills in your mouth, blowing on your tea before taking a sip. You gulp it down, the pills rushing to relieve you of your pain. The tea helps as well, relief washing over you when the warm liquid enters your stomach. Your cramps begin to dampen. 

You wipe your eyes. “What would I ever do without you?”

His eyes crinkle when he grins in that way that you love. He lets out a soft chuckle after sipping his tea. “Dunno love. What would ya do?”

“I would simply perish.”

[uncommunicativevanillaicecream]

Pragmatism {III}

Sonar x reader

Here's the AO3 link >:(

You fly over the ruined South sector. The buildings are all caved in and charred black. Your heart aches for the people that live here. Burned sofas and other furniture are set out on the street, left behind. Your lungs seize up. The air smells of rotting burned wood. The stench is so thick that it clings to the insides of your lungs, coating them in the pain and carnage that took place 5 weeks ago.

Behind your eyes you almost see it as clearly as if it was happening right now. You were running from a gang of Red Ring members with an injured man on your back. Your lungs sputtered, begging for clear air as you take in big gulps of smoke. Your mind was empty, running on fear as they only got closer.

Finally, you find the meeting place. You straighten your wings, gliding toward the ground. You land on your toes, hardly making a sound. For a second all of the other heroes stare at you before continuing what they were doing– all but one. A short hero with antennas walks up to you, a smile on her face. “The boxes are over there! Just wait for someone to walk up and give them a gift bag and a pack of water.”

You nod, walking over to the boxes and opening a few. Three lines form, but for some reason nobody goes to receive anything from you. Your mind wanders, observing your surroundings. You’re in a large intersection– shut down now. The buildings at the corners along the streets are all caved in at the windows and charred black. One building has collapsed into a pile of concrete, leaving a layer of pale dust all over the road. Not the safest place to give away food and water.

Your mind wakes up again as a young man walks up to you. He’s wearing a hoodie and a mask. His brown eyes glare into your own. Nevertheless, you hand him a pack of water and a gift bag. He steps back a little, looking into the bag. He pulls out a bag of chips. “Did you use all of that money we raised for yourself? Chips? Really?”

He leans closer, giving you a deeper glare. “I bet you stole it all to give gifts to your piece of shit boyfriend.”

He doesn’t break eye contact as he drops the bag of chips to the ground and stomps on it ruthlessly. You stand there, shocked. You glance around the clearing, but nobody moves to do a thing. The other people receiving food and water silently glare at you as well. You eye the hero from earlier and her gaze falls to the ground. Your neck muscles throb as you’re suddenly yanked forward, pain seeping through your scalp.

You dig your fingers into his to make him let go but he only yanks your hair harder, shaking you while screaming obscenities. You catch a glimpse of your ‘fellow heroes’ and all of their heads are turned. They’re going back to doing their job, ignoring you. You choke and gasp as he opens a water bottle and pours it all over your head and face. Before you know it, he picks up the back of chips and tosses its crushed contents all over your head.

Your head reels back as he pushes you. You trip over your own feet, landing on your ass. By the time you look up he has his phone out, a manic look in his eyes. “Smile for the camera, bitch.”

You glare up at him. You don’t know if you should cry or if you should fight back or just… do nothing. You flinch as he begins walking toward you. Quickly, you glance around. Nobody has moved an inch. They’re not even watching. Your body acts on its own, you quickly jump to your feet, sprinting away and taking off. Behind you, you hear multiple voices scream obscenities at you. One voice stands out, way louder than the rest. “Yeah fly away like the coward you are, bitch!”

[...]

You decide not to go to Victor’s apartment. You land on your balcony, staring at your reflection in the glass for a few seconds. Your hair is wild and covered in bits of red cheeto dust. You look like utter shit. You pry the door open, sluggishly walking toward your bathroom to clean up. You turn on the shower, not bothering to wait for it to heat up. Finally, under the safety of the water, you begin to cry.

An hour later, you finally get out of the shower. You walk to the mirror, shaking out your hair, making sure that there’s no more red cheeto dust in it. You sigh, walking toward your living room. You throw yourself onto the couch, deciding to scroll on Instagram. You see headlines like ‘Blazer: The Best Superhero of Today’s Time” and stupid videos of people faking pranks.

Finally you scroll onto a video that strikes fear into your heart. It’s a live stream coming from a sketchy neighborhood in Torrance. The main subject in the video is Victor, running from at least 4 dozen civilians. You throw your phone onto the couch, headed to your bedroom. You put on a thick jacket, a shirt, and moveable pants. You waste no time grabbing your phone again and jumping off of your balcony.

The late afternoon city is a blur beneath you as you fly as quickly as you can. Within five minutes you arrive over the neighborhood. You fly a little higher, looking for angry mobs. You squint, seeing a ridiculous amount of movement a few streets away. You dive through the air to fly faster. All that you see is a trail of people running in the same direction, you assume toward Victor.

You flap your wings vigorously, gaining ground on the angry mob. Finally you spot Victor, barely a foot away from hands reaching out to grab him. He’s out of breath and his suit coat is gone, leaving only a sweaty dress shirt. Someone screams your name like a curse, and everyone’s heads turn. The second they see you their anger is directed straight toward you as well. Multiple people grab rocks and fistfuls of dirt to hurl at you as you try your best to get close enough to fly away with him.

Victor looks up when he sees your shadow over him. His eyes widen in relief, but the carnal fear is still there. You drop quickly and hook your arms under his and you haul him off into the sky. Desperate, furious hands reach for your toes, curses falling from their lips. You feel Victor physically deflate in your arms, his ears droopy. “That’s never happened before…”

The rest of the flight home is quiet. Victor gently massages your upper arm as you carry him home. Finally, the two of you land on your balcony. You both collapse onto the floor. You lay your head on his chest, dialing Blazer’s number.

It hardly takes a second before she answers. “Oh my goodness, Lunaris! I know, we’re freaking out here too! PR is extremely busy, we didn’t have ANYBODY to send that could handle whatever the hell was happening– are you two alright?”

You let out a deep breath. “We aren’t harmed past a few painful bruises if that’s what you mean.”

Victor laughs beneath you. “Maybe a little traumatized though.”

Blazer sighs. “I didn’t think it’d be so hard to integrate you back into the Phoenix Program. I’m sorry.”

His voice lacks the confidence it usually has. “It’s alright. I deserve it. It’s not like they attacked me for no reason.”

You hear a small commotion over the phone. “Malevola–”

“That’s a load of fucking bullshit, Sonar.”, Malevola growls over the phone. “You don’t deserve to be hunted in the streets because some big bad evil guy encouraged your revenge plans.”

You hear Blazer snatch her phone back. “Anyway…I’ve organized a meeting. I’d like for you and Lunaris to be there. It’s tomorrow at 10:00.”

Victor sighs. “We’ll be there.”

Blazer wishes you two a good night and hangs up, leaving you both to stare into the sunset-lit sky. You curl up into Victor’s side, about to fall asleep when he taps you awake. “We need to clean up. I smell like shit and you have dust and rocks in your hair.”

You shrug, standing up. “Not the first time I had dust in my hair today.”

The two of you go into the bathroom. Victor takes a shower, meanwhile you run your hair under water and comb out any pieces of rock still remaining inside. Victor’s voice echoes from inside the shower. “How was your day? Hopefully better than mine?”

You put the comb down, hopping onto the counter and pulling your legs close. You make sure to speak loudly. “Nope. Some asshole dragged me by the hair and dumped cheeto dust all over me. As shitty as ever.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Victor suddenly stop washing himself. He sits there in silence for a few moments. “It was because of me, wasn’t it?”

You let out a laugh of disbelief. “Yep. Those people hate your guts.”

His voice cracks a little. “I’m sorry.”

You look up, pushing yourself off of the counter and rushing toward the clear shower curtain. “It’s not your fault. Besides, all couples face some issues in their relationships.”

He sarcastically snorts. “That’s usually something like your mom not liking your girlfriend, not your girlfriend getting physically attacked because she’s associated with you.”

You lightly slap the curtain, getting his attention. “It’s NOT. YOUR. FAULT. Don’t blame yourself. You’re in an uncertain place in your life right now.”

He turns the water off, looking upward at the shower head as the water slowly trickles into nothing. His head snaps toward you. “Like what? What’s uncertain? I know damn well that everything I go near ends up collapsing. Yeah. Real reassuring.”

You stand your ground. “You’re still just as scared as you were when you got fired, Victor. You’re fighting addiction, the consequences of your actions, the fear of uncertainty–”

“As if you know what the fuck is going on! We met only five weeks ago.”

“Victor!”, you seethe. “Don’t you dare try pushing me away. I love you, and I will stay by your side. I don’t care if we met five weeks ago.”

“The whole fucking city cares! The WHOLE. FUCKING. CITY.”

You clench your teeth. “Why the fuck do you care about what the city thinks?”

“Because they WILL beat the shit out of you and kill you. Did you use your FUCKING eyes back there? I was running for my life!”

You sigh, backing away from the curtain and grabbing a towel. You rip open the curtain and throw it at his face. “We’ll see what Blazer says tomorrow and then we’ll decide what to do. Is that alright with you?”

He nods, gripping his towel. You hesitate before leaving the room, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You crawl into bed, staring at the ceiling. What the fuck was today? In 10 minutes Victor finishes putting his clothes on. He hops into bed next to you, his phone in hand. You peak at it, seeing the video from earlier today at the food giveaway. When you look back, Victor is staring at you, a sad look in his eyes. “I should’ve been there for you.”

You cuddle closer to him, pulling the blanket up to your chin. “It would’ve just made things worse.”

[...]

The next day Blazer sends personal escorts to your apartment to be sure you get to SDN safely. You firmly grasp Victor's hand, looking out of the car window. It’s not long before the building rolls into view and one of your escorts opens the car door. You both hop out, hand in hand.

The walk to Blazer’s office is awkward. Many heroes stop what they’re doing to stare at you both, some whispering as quietly as they can. Once you’re in front of her door you look Victor in the eyes, giving him an encouraging nod. Before he can knock a loud voice speaks inside. “She’s just too fuckin nice for her own good. She never should have gotten involved with someone in Z team, as much as I love those motherfuckers now.”

Blazer argues. “Who she dates is nobody’s business, and it should have stayed that way.”

“You’re right.”, Robert says. “That asshole reporter added fuel to the fire, resulting in this overwhelming shit-show. I should have beaten his ass harder when I had the chance.”

Victor looks at his feet, a guilty look on his face. You realize that he won’t knock so you do it yourself. As soon as you knock the room goes silent and you both walk in. Chase stares at the two of you grimly, meanwhile Robert gives you both a small wave. Blazer gestures to two seats in front of her. “Sit down.”

She evens out a stack of papers, going through them. “SDN has decided to go to court against Charles Kingsley for spreading misinformation and encouraging an uprising.”

Victor leans forward. “Alright.”

“We’ve also decided to look into what happened yesterday. Robert?” Blazer gestures to Robert and he stands up.

“Yesterday Sonar was lured out into a neighborhood where a mob was waiting for him. They abused SDN’s call line to do so and somehow made sure that heroes like Malevola and Golem were busy.”

He points to a board and it turns on. “Look here. Yesterday there were three times as many serious crimes, and they were all situated in the opposite direction of the neighborhood Sonar was lured into. This was coordinated. My best guess is that the Red Ring– or what’s left of it, is out for revenge.”

You stand, your heart beating quickly. “How can we get rid of them as quickly as possible? As you know, they were bold enough to attack us in a dark alleyway not too long ago.”

He nods. “Blazer contacted downtown. They’ll put a specialized team into motion to get rid of the last of the Red Ring.”

You sit down, satisfied. “What do we do until then?”

Blazer stands up. “Not exactly what you will do, but we will have multiple interviews to salvage your reputations. Vesperis has already agreed to help me save your image, Luna. Robert will support the both of you. As mechaman, of course.”

Chase slams his hands on the table, making you both flinch and stare at him in shock. “And stay your sorry motherfuckin’ asses INSIDE!”

[...]

Victor slams the door behind you once you get home to his apartment. You collapse onto his couch, groaning. “I wish we could go to a grocery store…we could get so much vodka and juice and stay fucked up till tomorrow night because we can’t work now.”

Victor snorts, scrolling on his phone. “Who knew unemployment was so fun?”

“It’s only fun when you have someone cute to do it with.”

He throws his phone into your lap. “Pick whatever juice you want with your vodka, babe. As I told you, ordering groceries online is way better.”

You pick up his phone and begin scrolling through your options. “Yeah, no assholes to try murdering you if you just order online…”

You hand him his phone back. “Don’t you want me to pay? I do have like 200,000$ in savings...”

He shook his head, adjusting his tie. “Chivalry lives within me even if it is slowly dying.”

“Be careful. Chivalry will make you broke if you use it with me.”

“Vodka and juice has been ordered. It’ll be here in 25 minutes. What do you want to do now?”

You shrug, laying flat on the couch, looking at the ceiling. Victor leans over you, tapping your shoulder. “Can I lay on top of you like you do to me?”

You nod, opening your arms. He instantly takes off his suit coat and collapses onto your chest, snuggling suspiciously close. His arms lay under your shoulders and you wrap your arms around him. The exhaustion of the week catches up to you and you begin to doze off. Right before you fade into unconsciousness you hear Victor sleepily mumble ‘boobs are the best’.

When you wake up you feel extremely hot and sweaty. You had one of those naps that let you rest but you wake up extremely confused and feel as if you closed your eyes and immediately opened them despite it being 7 hours later. Victor is quietly snoring on top of your chest. You pat his head to wake him up. He awakens, groggy as well. His eyes are half lidded and his speech is slurred. “What…what time is it?”

You point to his minimalist clock abovehead. “It’s freaking 20:00 already.”

Victor quickly sits up, sluggishly walking toward the door and bringing in your groceries. They’re definitely not cold anymore. “Are you sure you want alcohol after that long ass nap?”

You shake your head, allowing your body to slink onto the floor. “We’ll get drunk too quickly if we don’t eat. Put them in the freezer please.”

The various bottles clank together as he carries them to the kitchen and opens the freezer. You sigh in content as you lay on the stone-cold floor, dozing off again.

You wake up to the smell of spaghetti and Victor tapping your shoulder. You flinch as your body leaves the ground and you snap awake, holding on to VIctor’s tie tightly as he carries you to the kitchen table. He sets you down gently, stepping back to loosen his tie again. “Honey, dinner’s ready!”

You blink the sleep from your eyes and the table slowly comes into focus. There’s a wine glass to your right, a spoon right below it, and a fork to your left. The plate of spaghetti looks ethereal. The sauce has bits of aromatic seasoning in it and there’s a light covering of grated cheese. It looks perfect.

You pull Victor in by his tie, giving him a crushing hug. “I love you!”

He pulls back, cupping your cheeks and rubbing his nose against yours. “I love you more!”

Victor sits down across from you and the two of you begin to eat.

Once you both finish dinner Victor goes to the freezer and grabs a bottle of Vodka and one jug of juice. You grab two long glasses, and the two of you go to sit in front of the tv again and drink your hearts out, passing out on the couch a second time.

[uncommunicativevanillaicecream]

Pragmatism {II}

Sonar x reader

Here's the AO3 :)

Up in the air the city seems calm despite the rigorous shuffling of people in the streets, on their way to work or the various clubs and bars. The stress from your shift seeps out of you as the wind blows across your cheeks and ears, the crisp night air giving way to the moon, not a cloud in sight. Your moth wings shine under the moonlight, half as bright as the moon itself.

You hold your wings in place, gliding deeper into the city. You fly past multiple buildings, zig zagging toward your apartment. You stop at a luxurious building completely made of glass. It sparkles in the night and you allow yourself to enjoy the moment. You take in every detail, the sparkling buildings in the background bathing the building in golden, the moon scattering its light..then you realize something, or someone flying far behind you. Looking closer into the building, you can make out the signature red glow of a former Red Ring member. Your heart sinks and you quickly begin flapping your own wings to escape.

You don’t waste your time flying away, you quickly zip around the building and pull your phone out of your pocket. You dial Victor’s number. The phone doesn’t even ring, he instantly picks up.

“Hey! I just got off my shift–”

You interrupt him. “Victor? A Red Ring member is following me.”

Another Red Ring member dives toward you from a building above. You stop in your tracks flying the other way, your body acting on its own. “I’m headed toward my apartment.”

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

You look behind you. The second Red Ring member and your original pursuer are still zipping toward you. You flinch as a third Red Ring member pounces at you. You fly past them, your heart beating wildly. They continue their pursuit, all three chasing you now.

You flap your wings so quickly that you get a cramp at their base, but nevertheless, you continue trying to escape. From the corner of your eye you see 2 more members closing in on both sides.

“Hey. I ran to your apartment. I’m here.” Victor huffs, out of breath. “Just land.” You spot him in front of your apartment and decide to dive closer to the street to prepare for landing. As soon as you dive a net clamps over your body and you begin to fall to the ground.

You land inside of a dumpster, a stray glass bottle stabbing at your leg.You untangle yourself, weakly throwing yourself out of the dumpster. As you catch your breath on the ground the three Red Ring members chasing you land at the exit of the alleyway, trapping you.

They’re all bird-based mutants. One has a sharp eagle beak, wings for arms, and a menacing glare, another, a woman, has red goggles, barn owl wings, and sharp talons. The last is clenching his fists, spreading his bird-like wings. A second pair of electronic wings are attached to his back as well.

You stand, prepared to defend yourself.

“Hey, Red Ringed Booty Holes!” Victor yells.

He’s leaning against the wall beside him, taking in big gulps of air. The Red Ring members turn around to confront him, and you take this chance to grab a nearby pipe. Victor gets into a fighting stance, left hooking the woman. “This’ll be easy.”

While they’re distracted, you take a swing at the man with 2 pairs of wings, beating him over the side of the head. He falls down, his hands instantly covering his growing goose egg. You swing the pipe down on his head multiple times, then you kick him in the ribs to be sure that he’s unconscious. You glance at the fight behind you. The woman is unconscious on the ground, meanwhile Victor is now fist fighting with the bird-faced man.

The bird man digs his beak into Victor's arm. You raise the pipe above your head and Victor moves his hand, his mouth still clamped down onto it, so that you can hit him easier. You swing, bringing the pipe down over his head. He lets go of Victor’s arm, screeching. He continues to yelp as you beat him with the pipe repeatedly.

“What the hell? Aren’t you guys supposed to be heroes?”

You both snap your heads toward the voice. Toxic is standing in the exit of the alleyway, cock and balls proudly out. There are at least two dozen Red Ring members behind him. “Can’t believe you left us by the way, Sonar. We just couldn’t let it go.. I guess that I don’t blame you. You just became a hero again and now you have a hoe!” He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “I’d become a hero too for that piece of ass!”

“What the fuck?” Your fear instantly disperses, replaced by pure confusion and offense. “I’m not a hoe, asshole.”

His face twists into a smile. “Well, it doesn’t matter. You’re going to die here anyway, hoe.”

Victor lets out a deep growl. You hear what you can only recognise as the sound of bones extending and breaking and merging as Victor’s face shifts into an unfamiliar one, his body expanding, shredding his clothes.

Finally, he lets out a threatening screech, and charges at the group of criminals. Toxic makes a signal with his hand, and just as quickly as you gained confidence you lost it. Multiple hidden harpoons were shot into Victor, holding him back. He angrily pushed himself forward, charging toward Toxic despite the pain.

Toxic laughed, looking back at his goons. “Look at that! He’s not as smart as he thinks he is.”

You get a running start, sliding past Victor and swinging your pipe. Toxic dodges you, a shit eating grin on his face. “Maybe you’re not cut out to be a hero either!”

You swing again and he dodges. This goes on for barely 10 seconds before your vision flashes with someone's foot and you’re pushed to the back of the alleyway with a single kick. You get back up, rushing to protect Victor with all your might.

A few heads turn to a conflict behind the group of Red Ring fragments and you take this chance to get rid of a few. You run up, pick a goon, and instantly start swinging. You pull your leg back, kicking him in the balls with all your might. He drops to his knees and you swing at his head with the pipe. The man tanks your first hit so you just keep hitting him. Your core muscles burn as you repeatedly slam the pipe into his head until he falls over, unconscious. You move onto the next one, beating his skull in as well.

Suddenly you’re surrounded by four more while holding your ground in front of Victor. You grip your pipe, daring them to move. When they do, you swing at the nearest one, throwing him off of his feet. You flinch, stepping back as a large sword swings in front of your face, taking out the remaining three.

You don’t even take a look, about to swing on whoever attacked, then, just as you’re about to bring the pipe down you recognise Victor’s best friend. You instantly lower the pipe, giving her a thankful look. “Malevola! Long time no see!” You allow your adrenaline to lower as you catch your breath. You spot two other Z-team members kicking ass. You recognise them from the group picture Victor showed you.

Outside of the alleyway, Toxic is running faster than you’d ever seen anyone run. Right behind him is Punch-up, manically cackling. Meanwhile, Prism’s entertaining the remaining goons. Her pink and blue hair sways as she dances, dodging punches and casually flashing permanently blinding bright light into the goon’s eyes.

Malevola’s voice is gentle. “Stay still, Sonar.”

You hear chains falling behind you, and as soon as you turn around Victor’s face is inches away from yours, his back curled so that he can look you in the eyes in his bat form. “Are you alright?”

There’s worry etched into every feature. You nod, putting a hand on his shoulder fur. You gasp as your hand comes back wet with blood. Quickly, you aim your wings upward, drawing in moonlight, and then you heal his wounds.

When you’re finished the alleyway is pretty much empty, except for you, Victor, a few unconscious hopefully-not-dead bodies, and his friends. Prism walks up to you, looking you up and down.

“So this is Victor’s girlfriend?” she places a hand on her hip, still judging you. “She’s pretty badass.”

Malevola puts an arm around your shoulder, almost making you fall. “Hell yeah she is! This is my future sister-in-law after all.”

Victor sighs, “Mal..”

Punch-up runs up to the small crowd around you, a proud smirk on his face. “Punched the fucker in the balls again!”

“You really have to find a different way to fight, touchin’ all them nuts..” The sassy girl backs away from him. “He didn’t even have any pants. You were just punching straight nuts.”

He holds his hand out to you, “Nice to meet you, lass!”

The sassy girl steps in front of you, looking at him in disgust. “You do not touch a lady with your unwashed nut-hands.”

He lowers his hand, a bit sheepish. “My bad..”

[…]

Before you know it, 3 drinks are pushed in front of you and Malevola is chanting ‘chug! chug! chug!’, while Victor sneaks to the bathroom. Prism is performing on stage, and Punch Up is betting on arm wrestles.

Malevola smirks, downing a very large cup of alcohol. “Come on! You fought like a warrior, you have to drink like one!”

“I’m no warrior, Malevola. I’m a healer.” You pick up one drink, sipping it slowly. “But I would never waste your money.”

Prism finishes her song and everyone including you starts to cheer. She hops down from the stage, posing one last time. She sits next to you and takes one of the drinks as she gets on her phone.

Malevola sighs, setting her empty drink on the table. “I’m just glad that we got his text. You two were way too outnumbered, no matter how ruthless you were, girly.”

You nod, staring into your second glass of liquor. “I just hope that nothing like that happens again.”

[…]

After staying at the bar for a few hours you walk home to your apartment with Victor. The two of you walk in silence but you realize his anxiety. His ears come to attention at every small movement or sound on the street. You grab his hand, stopping him from walking. “Are you alright?”

“I know it’s stupid but..” He sighs, turning toward you. “They used you to get to me, like those old comics where the entire romantic conflict is the girl getting kidnapped. And they almost succeeded.”

His eyes look deep into yours. “Of course the way you fought for me was hot, but you aren’t a fighter, and I was useless against them. For goodness sake I got fucked over by freaking harpoons molded onto the side of a building…”

“Well,” you smile gently. “They definitely planned that entire thing…”

You grab his other hand as well. “But we’ll be ready for them next time.”

Victor smiles for a second before he falters, turning away from you. “They’ll be ready too. I’m sorry. I should have thought about it for one second before bringing you into my bullshit.”

“I survived the worst uprising in LA history basically on my own. Don’t treat me like I don’t know what I’m getting into.” You lean in close, his muzzle barely a centimeter away from your face. “I may be weak, but I WILL do whatever I can for you. I want to see where this goes.”

He sighs, walking with you again. “I know. I know that more than ever now. I’ll report it to Robert tomorrow and we’ll see what happens.”

[…]

You wake up from your peaceful sleep, caged inside of Victor’s arms. You lay there for a few minutes savoring his peaceful breathing and permeating warmth. Then you carefully slide his arms from around you and start to get ready for your morning duties. Your feet softly tap on the floor, the cheap apartment floor creaking loudly. You peak back into your bedroom to make sure you didn’t wake him before beginning to brush your teeth. You set the water pressure to low and begin vigorously brushing. Then you wet a wash cloth from the rack and close your eyes to wash your face. You open your eyes to Victor standing in the doorway and your heart squeezes in fear.

You screech and throw your wash cloth at his face. “Fuck! You scared me..my floors are squeaky as hell. How did you do that?”

He shrugs, handing your wash cloth back. “Are you going somewhere?”

You take in a sharp breath. “I forgot to tell you! I got invited to represent SDN’s medical branch at the Brighter Days fundraiser.”

He tilts his head in confusion. “What’s that?”

“It’s a fundraiser for those affected by the Red Ring attack 5 weeks ago. A lot of people were left without housing, jobs, and food.”

“I really want to support you, but I probably shouldn’t come.” His stature droops a little. “I’m the reason for their suffering. All for revenge.”

You quickly drop your wash cloth, treading your hands through his fur. “I’ll be honest, Victor.”

You sigh. “What you did was horrible, but I won’t judge you for it and I won’t let anyone else judge you for it either. Look at you now, you’re paying the public back by working at SDN.”

He grabbed your hands, peeling them away from his fur. “I’m only doing this to stay out of jail. It’s hard to actually care about so many people…”

You smile, “And because of that you don’t think you deserve to be forgiven?”

He nods. “Not now, not ever.”

“It doesn’t matter to me. When I first started working I felt nothing for the people I healed. I just needed the job. The old me never would have hugged you that day. I’ve learned to open my heart now, but that doesn’t invalidate the work I did before.”

He nods. “I feel like I understand.”

“Good! I have to get ready.”, you pet his head and resume getting ready. “We can talk more later, baby.”

[…]

You’re wearing a long flowy white dress with flared chiffon sleeves and white flats. You flutter your wings in the mirror, liking how the white compliments their soft light green color. Excitedly, you walk into the living room where Victor is watching tv. Almost instantly, his eyes are on you and the tv is muted.

His eyes roam your entire form before settling on your face. “You look ethereal.”

“Thank you.” You blush, turning your back to him. “Did you learn that word at Harvard?”

He taps his chin. “Actually, yes, I did. Kind of.”

You giggle, sitting next to him on the couch to give him a hug. “I need to be on my way, and you do too. You have work, remember?”

He nods. “I can call a car.”

[…]

Finally, Victor comes out of the bathroom, smoothing out his neck fur and adjusting his tie. “The car is here.”

He grabs your hand and the two of you walk down the long apartment corridor to the stairs. You make it to the parking lot and see a sleek black car being driven by a driver with very dark sunglasses and a no-bullshit facial expression. You stop in your tracks, turning to Victor. “Where’d you get premium transportation on such short notice?”

He sighs, a smirk on his face. “If I told you, the magic would go away.”

He places a hand around your waist, guiding you toward the car and opening the door for you.

The entire car ride is silent except for the calming music playing in the car. You’re sitting right next to Victor, laying your head on his shoulder so that you can get as much comfort as you can before you’re both separated until the end of his shift. You slowly blink your eyes closed and you fall asleep.

Victor taps you awake. You sit up slowly, whining a little. “Are we already here?”

He nods, giving you a side hug. “See you soon.”

You stand at the entrance, waving until you can no longer see the car. You turn around, intimidated by the building. You’d never been chosen to represent any large sector of SDN. You needed to be perfect. You walk into the fundraiser, head held high. Here, you were Lunaris, the lesser of the celestial trio. You may have been outshined by Solara and Vesperis, but it was an honor to be considered even a little closer to their greatness than the rest. As soon as you arrived, Blonde Blazer came to greet you. “Hey! Thank you for coming to represent the medical sector of SDN!”

You shook her hand. “It is an honor to have been invited.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Lunaris!”, she begins. “Didn’t you heal a quarter of the city's burn injuries during the Red Ring’s attack?”

You nod. “I had to step up while Vesperis was on vacation. Hopefully one day I’ll be equal to the two of them.”

“It’s alright,” Blonde Blazer places a hand on your shoulder. “Not many people can do even half of what Solara and Vesperis can do.”

Blonde Blazer walks away, quickly finding more conversation. You stand there, your forced smile almost faltering. Then you look for someone else to begin talking to. The corporate speech feels like bile on your tongue.

[…]

You’re mentally exhausted. Maybe even more exhausted than you were the night the Red Ring attacked. Navigating corporate society is difficult. You stand in a corner, watching the food table go untouched. For some reason, rich events always had a food table that nobody ever ate at. You snap out of your thoughts when a man appears before you. He holds his hand out. “Hello, I am Charles Kingsley, a reporter.”

You shake his hand. “Hello, I’m Lunaris.”

“I have a few questions to ask you.”, he takes out a notebook and pen, and a camera man appears behind him. “So, how do you feel about being completely inferior to Solara and Vesperis? Surely you know that you are the most useless of the Celestial three.”

You stand there for a second, stunned by his rudeness. “I do not feel any kind of way. All three of us are useful in our own way, and I will leave it at that.”

Just as you’re walking away he makes another comment. “Just what I expected the runt of the group to say.”

You glare at him. “This conversation is over.”

[…]

You hold flowers, standing to the left of Blazer, right next to the representative of the SDN Research sector. Blazer’s voice sounds throughout the large ballroom. “I am proud to say that SDN and its heroes have managed to raise 1 million dollars for the Brighter Days fundraiser! To those of you watching right now, if you can, please donate. We appreciate it. This city is still here, and we stand strong together.”, as soon as she finishes speaking hundreds of cameras flash and a cacophony of cheers echo throughout the building.

Blonde Blazer speaks once the noise dies down. “I’m accepting questions now.”

The reporter from earlier, Charles Kingsley, raises his hand, calling out to Blonde Blazer. She nods to him and he speaks. “Blonde Blazer, how does it make you feel to see such a success? Surely you are very proud.”

A stab of offense roots itself in your stomach, but you do not show it. Why is he so nice to Blonde Blazer but not you?

She smiles. “Of course I’m proud! This fundraiser has reached our goal and is still growing. It wouldn’t be so without the help of my fellow heroes each donating thousands of dollars—”

[…]

You ride the bus home, staring into the late afternoon sky. You can almost see the moon. Once you arrive you hop off of the bus and walk the last block to your house. You pass reconstructed buildings, ones still burned down, and those that luckily went untouched. Your city is healing.

You open your apartment door with a sigh, peeling your shoes and your dress off and putting them away. You go into the back of your closet, finding your favorite hoodie. As you put it on it comforts you like a hug. You crawl into bed, a little down in the dumps. You take out your phone, scrolling on YouTube. You scroll past multiple videos of the fundraiser with millions of views, then, finally, you see a video called ‘Lunaris: The secrets of the most useless and evil member of the Celestials.’ you see a familiar face in the thumbnail. Charles fucking Kingsley. Your anger fades away, replaced with confusion when you see how long the video is. 2 freaking hours. You barely talked to him for a minute at the event.

Before you can play it, you hear your front door unlock. You run to greet Victor with a big hug. “Victor! How was your shift?”

He smiles. “It was great. How was the fundraiser?”

“Well,” you begin, ”Some asshole made a hit piece on me, but besides that, it was great! We’ve already raised 1 million dollars!”

“I’m glad that the people affected will be alright, thanks to the charity!” His smile fades, becoming more serious. “Now, what asshole made a hit piece on you?”

You laugh in disbelief. “His name is freaking Charles Kingsley.”

[…]

You lay down with him in bed, playing the video on tv. It begins with the interview he gave you earlier, then some cringey transition to the glare you gave him. Victor tenses beside you. “What the fuck?”

You pause it, looking at him. “I don’t feel like watching this entire video to be honest.”

He nods, pulling out his phone and typing something into Google. “Luckily, he wrote an article.”

You both read through the article. First, it starts with a description of your ‘rude reaction’ to his interview, then he reveals something that makes your blood run cold and boil at the same time:

“Despite attending the fundraiser for those affected by the Red Ring’s attack, this 2 faced half-hero is dating one of the main aggressors in the conflict.”

Below it is multiple pictures of you and Victor together. That time at the park the day after the attack, the two of you getting into the car together before the event, and even a few pictures from one of your other dates in between. Victor growls. “What the fuck? Is he stalking you?”

You keep scrolling, ignoring the article now. You see more pictures, moments that you thought nobody was watching. Finally, you come to the last items of the article. It’s a video of the night the Red Ring attacked you, conveniently only showing you beat the everloving shit out of someone while Victor watches. A second video shows Victor left hooking the woman from that night. You close your phone. “What the fuck? That has to be illegal right? We weren’t attacking anyone, we were defending ourselves.”

Victor instantly sits up, dialing a number on his phone. It rings for 4 seconds. “Robert? That reporter you beat the shit out of a few months ago just put out a hit piece on Lunaris, and it’s all bullshit. Find a way to get rid of it– yes, really. The creep’s fucking stalking her.”

He sits up, walking out of the room as he speaks on the phone. You try your best to keep it together, scrolling back up and reading through the rest of the article. Why you? All that you did was protect and heal people. Yeah, you did beat a bunch of former Red Ring members into a bloody mess, but they were trying to kill you and they got treatment for their concussions in a heavily guarded hospital. Despite feeling like you did nothing wrong it still hurt.

You read over the headline again. ‘Lunaris: The secrets of the most useless and evil member of the Celestials.’ Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, but you just lay there, your mind racing. Suddenly, your phone dings. ‘HUGE FLOOD EAST OF THE CITY: IMMEDIATE THREAT HAS BEEN DEALT WITH’

You slide out of bed, quickly getting your hero outfit on and running to the living room to wish Victor goodbye before jumping off of your balcony. You fly hastily. Once you get closer you smell the Ocean. You finally arrive over the scene. Multiple buildings are in ruins, pieces of wood and glass floating in the rushing water. The water is flowing toward a border established with ice, protecting the rest of the city from the disastrous flood. You fly over to the group of heroes behind the ice wall to get instructions.

You land, and you almost flinch at the way they look at you. They all try to hide it but you can feel the doubt and even disgust in their gaze. You ignore it. “So what’s the issue?”

A hero walks forward, she has flippers for feet. “A villain managed to get a portion of the Pacific ocean into the city. We’re rescuing survivors. Are you sure that you can do that? You’re a flier.”

You nod, preparing your wings for take off. You fly into the air, aiming your wings upward toward the almost fully visible moon. You get a charge and then you head straight into the water, using your wings as a light. You turn your head, spotting four people floating just under the surface. You rush toward them grabbing each by their hands and dragging them near the ice wall.You get them over with a little help and immediately begin to try healing them. But before you go through with it, someone taps your shoulder. “Lunaris! Long time no see.”

You look up to see Vesperis. Her dark green eyes shine. “Yep! I’m back from Hawaii.”

You give her a hug and step back, allowing her to take over. She calls out to you. “I saw that article, by the way.”

Your heart panics as you watch her heal the four people. “Is it really spreading that quickly? It's only been an hour since it was posted.”

“News spreads like a virus in big cities.” Once she’s finished she sits back, her black hair flowing behind her shoulders. ”Especially news about someone high up in the ranks. I’ll need you to heal everyone’s wounds once I bring them back from critical condition.”

You nod, running back to the scene with another team of water-based heroes.

[…]

Once you’re sure that everyone has been rescued all of the survivors are laid close together. You raise your wings toward the moon, taking in more power. You take a deep breath before expelling all of it at once, healing as many injuries as you can. Their broken bones mold back together, and the shards of glass stuck inside of their bodies are expelled and they begin to heal. You take another deep breath and then do it again. “There. Everyone should be alright.”

Vesperis puts a hand on your shoulder. “No matter what, this city needs you.”

“I’m not sure that I believe you.” Your gaze falls to the floor. “I’m basically just a weaker Solara that can’t fight for shit. I don’t know why they even pay me so much.”

“Then what am I? Sure, I can heal critical, life-threatening injuries but that’s all. Everyone in our trio is needed. You’ll understand some day.” Vesperis waves goodbye. “See you later, Luna.”

[…]

You fly back onto your apartment’s balcony, peaking into the living room. It’s pitch dark. You quietly walk into your bedroom. Victor’s sitting on your bed, your bedside light flipped on. He’s reading a book called ‘Crypto for geniuses’. You take off your hero costume, which smells like Ocean water now, revealing your bra and underwear. Out of the corner of your eye you see Victor put his head under the covers, not-so-subtlely still peaking. “Was I supposed to see that?! Are we at that stage now?”

You giggle. “I don’t know what you mean.”

You put your hoodie back on and get under the covers with him, dozing off.

The next morning you wake up with not Victor, but a pillow cuddled up to you. You snap awake, stretching all your limbs out before opening your door. You’re instantly hit with the smell of breakfast, and the tiredness of sleep is ripped away from you. You walk into the kitchen, watching from behind as Victor cooks breakfast. “Where’d you learn how to cook? Surely not Harvard?”

He does a cool trick with a pan. “I learned how to cook purely to impress girls.”

He places a cup of coffee in front of you and you take a sip. “I could have guessed.”

Within minutes a yummy plate of eggs, spinach, and a stack of pancakes is placed before you. Victor smirks, leaning toward your face. “What do you think?”

You give his nose a kiss and begin eating.

[…]

“Come on! It’s way easier to just order online! I’ll give you the money, please..please?” Victor cries out while you drag him around the store. “Shopping is so boring..I could be doing so much right now! Like outlining my new hustle.”

You grin at him. “You always have a new hustle.”

“Which is why shopping will make me broke!”

You ignore him, placing eggs into your cart and continuing on to the meat aisle. He follows behind begrudgingly. You compare two cuts of meat, analyzing the protein amount, cost, and fat%. You toss your preferred one into the cart and begin walking to the next aisle. “I have a surprise for you if you can behave.”

He instantly loosens up, a serious look on his face as he pushes the cart behind you as you walk toward the snack aisle. You search through the jello, looking for your favorite brand. You stand on your tippy toes and grab it, moving on to the various energy bars on the other side of the aisle. “We need more veggies..” you mumble to yourself.

Finally, you finish in the snack aisle and head to the vegetable and fruit aisle. “Victor, tell me if you see any fresh mangos, I’ll go look for some more spinach. “

He nods sharply, “Yes Ma’am.”

Once you finish your shopping you head home to drop it all off. Victor is visibly straining on the walk home as he insists that he carry every single bag. He has bags in his hands, more hooked around his forearms, and one in his mouth. He hobbles like a man kicked in the nuts, with an agonized, regretful look on his face.

Finally, you arrive at your front door. Victor rushes past you as you open the door, placing everything down on the kitchen floor and collapsing next to 3 dozen bags of groceries. You lean down to give his head a little pat and begin putting everything away.

[…]

That night you ask him to join you on your balcony. The two of you stare at each other and the moon for a few moments before you begin to explain yourself. “About that surprise–”

“Boobs?” Victor interrupts you with his exclamation.

“No, darling. No boobs. Not tonight.”, you hold your giggle in. “Just trust me, okay?”

You pick him up bridal style and take off flying into the night. He stiffens a little. “You’re very strong. Cool sleeper build.”

You fly over the city until you spot the tallest building you could find. The Crest tower. Even while seemingly empty, the lights are on, reflecting all through the glass tower and shining like a beacon. You find the top and place Victor behind the railing, standing close to him. “Our relationship…it’s real. It’s real and that makes me happy.”

Victor nods. “It makes me happy too.”

You pull a gift box out from inside of your pocket and hand it to him. “I want to gift this to you. A one of a kind.”

At ‘one of a kind’ his ears perk up. His eyes excitedly focus on yours for a second before he opens it, pulling out a golden watch with red lining and sparkly crystals placed all around the band and the watch face. “..woah.”

“Do you like it?” your eyes dig deep into his which were taking in every detail of the watch.

“It’s beautiful.” He carefully places the watch back into the box, sliding the box deep into his pocket. As soon as it’s safe he gives you a big hug. “Where’d you get it?”

You smirk. “I got it for you a week ago. I saved a jeweler a few years ago and I still had a favor. Of course it was only 25% off, but it was enough.”

“How did you afford this?” his eyes are still wide in disbelief.

You shy away from his gaze. “I used to earn 45,000$ a year but they raised it to 250,000$ three years ago. I really didn’t know what to do with the money so I put it into savings…”

“You earn 250,000$ a year and you don’t know what to do with it?”

You groan “I always pay a few charities like 20-50k a year…that’s doing something right?”

Victor stands there in silence, somehow more astonished than he was before.

[…]

The next day the two of you decide to hang out in Victor’s apartment instead of yours. His walls are plain white, and his furniture is black and dark grey. He has multiple hanging pictures of countless NFTs you think he may actually own. You inwardly cringe a little every time you see them. The two of you cuddle on his dark grey couch watching the LEGO Batman movie on his 65 inch flatscreen tv. The two of you sing along with the Batman theme song that plays while he beats the crap out of the bad guys. “There's a million heroes BUT I'M THE BEST OF THEM ALL! Who has the coolest gadgets? (BATMAN!) Who has the tricked out ride? (BATMAN!) Who does the sickest backflips? (BATMAN!) NANANANANANA BATMAN!”

The fighting sequence ends and Batman has to choose between saving the city and fighting Joker, who believes that he’s his greatest enemy. Tears form in Joker's eyes as Batman repeatedly refuses to admit that he is his greatest enemy, but Batman keeps ranting about how he loves nothing and nobody.

Batman glares at Joker, a disgusted look on his face. “There is no us. Batman and Joker are not a thing. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone. You mean nothing to me…no one does.”

Batman grapples away and Joker stands there, crying. You quickly stand up, screaming curses at your tv. “BATMAN, WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Victor joins in. “HE’S SUCH AN ASSHOLE!”

“FUCKIN PIECE OF SHIT!”

The two of you scream so loudly and passionately that the entire city may have heard. Eventually you flop back onto the couch, breathless and laughing. That’s when your phone buzzes.

BLAZER: “Hey! I’m putting together a small team to bring food and water to the South district tomorrow at 16:00! It’s still bad down there after the Ring’s attack. Thought you’d wanna help show people that heroes are still with them.”

You smile, confirming that you’ll be there.

[uncommunicativevanillaicecream]

Dispatch

Sonar:

Pragatism 1 2 3

If you want to see anyone else, please ask!

[uncommunicativevanillaicecream]

Pragmatism {1}

Sonar x reader

AO3 link :>

Your pager screams in your ear.

“The aggressor is down and so are his men. Secondary medical team 4, I need you there. Nobody is dying tonight.”

You stretch, bruises and cuts aching all over your body, and then you take flight. Your pale green wings glow white in the moonlight. 

“Solara, I need you at the center of the conflict. Lunaris, support her efforts. ”, your dispatcher urges.

You squint, spotting the area with the most destruction. “Got it.”

Just as you arrive above the scene Solara’s fiery wings blitz through the sky landing right next to Mechaman’s suit. You decide to land on the opposite end for more coverage. You fold your wings to your sides as you dive, and once you’re close enough you unfurl them, gliding slowly to the ground. Your eyes quickly scan for the injured. 

You’re saving most of the shock for after you have your coffee tomorrow morning but in the back of your mind you can’t help but feel a tinge of pain in your heart. The entire building is in pieces, cold air blowing through empty windows, creating a lonely whistling sound through the newly demolished clearing. There weren’t many people in this area, dead or alive. One red ring member with a broken leg, one with possible rib fractures, another bleeding from their eyes. You squint, peering across the empty rubble-filled horizon, your eyes searching for movement. Then you see him, a man trapped under a large rock. You flap your wings hastily, making your way toward him. He groans hoarsely, his forearm muscles bulging from his torn suit, trying his best to push the rock off of himself. 

You grab the rock as well, readying your wings. “Push! I’ll help.”

You flap your wings, pulling the rock backwards. He pushes as well, grunting loudly. Finally, you manage to free him, the rock falling to the side and tumbling down a slope. You drop to your knees, cutting open what’s left of his shirt and assessing his wounds. You inwardly wince at his injuries. His breathing is ragged and constricted. Bruised, maybe broken ribs, a large burn on his arm, a huge bruise on his back, just..bruises and deep cuts everywhere. You take a deep breath, calming your mind.

You angle your wings upward, laying your hands across his chest. The power of the moonlight funnels into you, and then into him. When you’re done he seems to breathe easier, taking in big gulps of air. He pants, struggling to get any words out. 

“You shouldn’t help me..I don’t– I don’t deserve it.”

You ignore him, running over to the injured red ring members, sparing the bits of your power left in your wings from your last charge to heal the more life threatening of their ailments. You stop their bleeding from cuts, realign their broken or dislocated limbs, and check their breathing. Once you finished you dragged them all close to the man and you waited for your next orders. You look back to the man and see his wide eyes already staring in your direction. You flinch a little.

“Well someone’s not afraid to stare.”

Now that your adrenaline has dulled you can see his features instead of just his injuries. He’s a bat-man hybrid with wide, bright eyes and large ears. He spoke softly, just above a whisper. “Any man would stare if an angel came to save them. Especially a man like me.”

“So melancholic.” You snorted. “Plus I’m a moth. Not even bird adjacent.” 

He doesn’t say a word. He lies on his back, staring at the moon, a distant look in his eyes. You settle beside him, stun-gun in hand, just in case the Red Ring members stir. Your gaze drifts to the moon—then a loud sniffle breaks the silence. Another follows. Within seconds, the bat-man’s tears are flowing freely.

You place a hand on his shoulder. He closes his fingers around yours. In that simple touch, a conversation passes between you. You stare into his tear-filled eyes and he stares into yours. 

“Do you want a hug?”

His voice cracks. “Yeah– yeah, I would love a hug right now.”

You pull his weak form into your arms. He lays his head on your shoulder, weakly clenching his arms behind your back. You reach up and gently place your hand on the back of his head and you let him cry it out until the sun begins to peak through the horizon from the east. Finally, your dispatcher gets back to you. 

“Lunaris, Solara is finished with her group, she’s headed over to you with some combat escorts. They’ll cuff your bad apples.”

You almost giggle at the term ‘bad apples’, “Yes sir. I’ll be prepared.”

Seconds later, Solara appears, her fiery wings slightly dulled. Behind her is a group of armored guards. They march toward you. The moment seems to go by slowly. Solara. The power of the sun. She shines brightly at any time of day, meanwhile you’re forced to only work at night. The feel of inferiority stings. She may as well be Blonde Blazer’s first cousin. 

They pack up the red goons, handcuffing them while they’re unconscious. 

Solara floats into the sky, her muscles delicately bunching together as her wings flare up, sparkly bits of healing fire flowing above you, the bat-man, and the criminals. Though it’s focused on the injured, you feel your muscles relax and become less sore from the long night of fighting.

"Ms.Solara," a guard says, ”pick up for them is on the way.”

Solara nods to him, walking over to you. You’re still sitting next to the bat-man. “Is he being detained?”

He flinches, his head snapping toward you, a guilty look in his eyes. You shake your head. Solara gives a faint hum then turns on her heel to continue her duty, readying her wings then blasting off, blowing wind into your face with the force of her take off. “That woman,” you begin, “that woman is a real angel.”

The bat-man turns his head. “Eh, I prefer the person that saved my life AND lied to an ally for me.”

You straighten your posture, “Lied?”

“Yeah…I defected. I kind of..did this. I helped, at least.”

You sit there, stunned. “I assumed you were an injured hero grieving or something.”

“Nah, just a piece of shit that poops upside down. Nothing amazing here.”

“Wait– no, wait, what was that second..that sec– what did you say?!”, you stutter.

“Nothing.”

You sighed. “Well, ignoring that..it’s alright.”

His ears perked up. “Really? You won’t turn me in after what I did?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I won’t.”

“Cold hearted villains don’t usually ask for a hug. And more rarely..” you continue, “They don’t ask for a hug without plunging a knife into your ribs.”

“I betrayed my friends.” His ears droop and his eyes focus on the ground. “I got fired and it seemed like the entirety of my new life just shattered and fell apart. I was angry and hateful..I started working for the worst villain in this city for goodness sake– And you’ll still cover for a bastard like me?”

You giggle. “What you did wasn’t that bad. I can feel it in my heart. You seem like a very sweet guy. I understand how hatred can change that, but you’re almost there. You can be forgiven.”

You pushed yourself onto your knees, grabbing one of his hands in both of yours.

“This is my home.” Your voice trembles. “Right now, I don’t even know if my apartment is still standing. I don’t know if I have a home to sleep in tonight. But as a hero, I’m made to do the hard things.” You give his hand a gentle squeeze. “Even if you tore my home down with your own hands, I forgive you.”

He stared at you, eyes wide with surprise. “How can you just forgive me like that?”

“Well..” you sigh. “I’m a healer. Of course I’m a big softie.”

He laughs, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. “Thank you. I will never forget this.”

[...]

Finally, the escort vehicle arrives and you pack all of your now-healed patients into it. The driver takes you all to the main vantage point. You hop out, opening the van and allowing officers to take the criminals, forgetting that the bat-man is in the back as well..

When you zone back in your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you see that they had handcuffed him, and all of a sudden you’re struggling to speak and stuttering “Wait! Please– please wa–”

 “Yeah– No, he’s with us.”

You look for the source of the voice and spot a man sitting on a car. The officers immediately unhand him. He looks stunned for a moment before a handful of people crowd him, all holding beers. They crack open their beers, cheering, and someone hands him one. You almost cry, watching him stand there, stunned and happy. You smile to yourself and decide to leave them to enjoy their day.

[…]

You drag your feet into your apartment, blood rushing to your head. You put your keys on the key rack and kick your shoes off at the front door, dragging yourself into your bedroom. You drop your bag and peel off your bloody and sweaty hero costume. You’re about to collapse into bed when you realize a thin piece of paper whimsically gliding toward the ground. You catch it and begin to read it. Where is it even from? 

“My name’s Sonar. Call me. #xxx-xxx-xxx”

You stare at the piece of paper, confused. Why was this in your uniform? You place it on your desk and plop onto your bed, falling asleep.

[…]

Your eyes shot open and you sat up. Your room was dark, the late afternoon light barely peaking through your window. Your eyes immediately fell to your desk. Curious, you take the paper and your phone with you to the bathroom. Your wings slowly flap as you complete the first part of your ‘morning’ routine. You put toothpaste on your toothbrush, and just as you’re about to begin brushing you flinch. You were so tired that you didn’t shower or anything last night. You wince as your flingers ghost over the bruises around your neck and just below where your bra sat. You look like utter shit, but at least you “saved the world". As soon as you finish brushing your teeth you go settle onto your couch, staring at the paper. What a weird thing to randomly find. You pick up your phone and dial the number, curiosity getting the better of you. It rings for 2 seconds before someone answers.

“Hey!”

You don’t recognise the voice. “Um..Hello! Who is this? I found your number in my uniform..”

You hear movement in the background followed by shushing. “It’s me, the bat guy! I always carry papers with my number written on them. For…interviews!”

You open your mouth but before you could respond a woman’s voice yells out from the phone. “You got a special beating from Blonde Blazer and Robert and you had the audacity to slip a paper with your number in her pocket after she healed you?!”

“You said to stop doing that to random girls, she healed me so we kind of know each other–"

“Not my point, Sonar..you really never stop..”

He turned closer to the phone. “Anyway, wanna go get dinner? Or coffee? Whatever you want.”

You sat in astonished silence for a few seconds before answering. “I would love to, but I got the shit beat out of me multiple times last night.”

“Do– Do you want any help? Help recovering or whatever..”

You could hear the hopefulness in his voice.

“Perhaps if you come pick me up and carry me everywhere like a princess I could come.”, you chuckle, flinching as your bruised ribs send a jolt of pain up your spine. “How are you so eager hours after…that?”

“Well you pretty much healed me fully,” he started “I really appreciate it.”

“And you’re super hot, so I really want to repay you. Please, I need to take you somewhere.”

The woman snorts. “Dude you sound way too desperate. Lighten up”

To be fair, you did feel like he was acting very desperate too. “I’m sure you see plenty of hot women everyday, surely you don’t need me.”

“None of those hot women swopped in from the sky as I was about to take my last breath.”, he stated in a somber voice. “It means a lot to me, I want to repay you.”

You let his words hang in the air as you thought it over.

“I..I guess. I just.. I’m still hurting everywhere–”

“No need to worry, I’ll help you.”

You sighed, “Then see you at wilson park. Right now. Bring me a coffee and a pastry please.”

“Got it! See ya there!”

As Sonar cheered, the woman in the background mumbled quietly, “I don’t know how that worked..”

[...]

You slipped a black hoodie over your bra and put on a pair of matching pants, grabbing your most ornate earrings and slipping some shoes on. You sighed as you stepped out of the doorway and began painfully making your way down the street. As you walked you gripped your side, feeling the sting of multiple people watching you with concern more than your injured ribs.

You stiffly shuffle over to a bench, your green wings gently swaying in the spring breeze. You clench your eyes closed, breathing deeply before you brace yourself with your left arm, pushing yourself back up. You stand up and begin to walk again before you hit your head on someone’s chest and stumble backwards.

They grab your waist, pulling you more upright and guiding you into sitting back down at the bench. Before you know it, a bag from Granny’s is in your lap. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that you were this injured– I never should’ve made you walk alone.” You raised your head, staring into his wide, worried eyes.

You lay your head on his shoulder, his fur tickling your ear. 

“It’s okay. I needed this.” You say, out of breath. “Yesterday was rough. I didn’t know how injured I was either..till now.”

You weakly lay your hand on top of his. “I saw you yesterday. Did your friends forgive you?”

You feel him nod. “They’re all so stupid. I was trying to kill them and they– they just don’t care anymore. I’m an evil piece of shit but they still let me back in.”

You brace your hand on his chest, sitting up to look him in the eyes. “An evil piece of shit wouldn’t be able to resist ripping me apart right now. An evil piece of shit would break my bones and crush me while I’m weak.”

You reach out to his hand farthest from you, taking your coffee from him. “And an evil piece of shit wouldn’t give me good coffee.”

You take a sip without breaking eye contact and his nose grows a deeper shade of pink.

His eyes roam down your form, stopping at your neck. He immediately snapped out of it and grabbed your chin to turn your head so he could look. “Holy shit. What happened?”

“Red ring asshole choked me while I was healing burned civilians.” You chuckle, taking another sip. “Just hero stuff. You should know.”

He let go of your chin, clearing his throat. “I– I mean I assumed that healers had like..guards or something. To keep them safe.”

“Like video games?” You rested your forehead on his shoulder, laughing. “No..in all seriousness, only the most valued healers get guards on days like yesterday. Like Solara.”

His nose scrunched up, his eyes narrowing. “You aren’t valued?”

“No,” you shook your head, “Solara healed everyone at the final battle– not to mention half the city. She’s amazing.”

“Well I think you’re better.”

You sat in silence for a few moments before you sat up, seeing something on the other side of Sonar. “You brought three more coffees?”

He turned away, his nose turning red. “You didn’t mention how much sugar you liked in your coffee.”

“Logically, I got four..so based on probability, I’m less likely to be wrong..”

You let him continue. 

“You asked for a pastry, and pastries are usually sweet, so I assumed you wanted sweet coffee too..but I didn’t know how sweet.”

He lifts one cup toward you, a self-satisfied grin on his face. “So, I looked up the most popular ratio of coffee to coffee creamer among women and found one fourth sweetener three fourths coffee was popular and so was two thirds coffee one third sweetener, so I got you those two and also one half and one black. Based on the data, it's almost impossible for me to be wrong. I have sweet, sweeter, very sweet, and black, so–” 

You failed to hold back your laugh, pain stabbing at your ribs as you laughed until you wheezed. Sonar just sat there, wide-eyed.

“You’re the cutest formerly defected hero I’ve ever met.”

[...]

You grip onto Sonar’s neck tightly as he carries you home. The pain in your side begins to lessen as the sun sets behind you and your eyes get droopy. You loosen one arm to trace a finger under his jaw, gently brushing through the fur.

“Thank you. You’re the first man to ever be interested in me and not what I have.”

He looked down at you with his deep white eyes, a smile on his face. 

“No, thank you. Without you accepting me first, I don’t know if I would’ve felt comfortable making up with my friends.”

You placed a kiss under his chin. “I’m glad you did. I almost cried when I saw you all celebrating. You don’t have friends, Sonar. You have a family.”

[...]

You hand him your keys and he kicks open your apartment door, setting you down on the couch beside him.

He crosses his arms, “So what now?”

“What? Is this the part where you’re expecting sex?”, you joke.

He shakes his head so furiously his ears flop around. “No, I was like– wondering if you wanted me to do some of your chores. As payment.”

He squirms under your gaze as you lean in, barely a centimeter from his face. 

“I trust you. I don’t know why, but I do.” You lay your cheek on his shoulder. “Do you want to spend the night?”

He nods and you place a hand on his shoulder, pushing yourself to your feet. “Let's go out for dinner tomorrow.” You say, glancing back at him. “Maybe stay in bed till 13:00..cuddle all night?”

He visibly gulps. “Yeah..sure. Why– why are you saying it like that?”

You tilt your head. “Like what?”

“In a sexy voice.”, he stated. “Last time I fell for a sexy voice I got fired.”

You shrugged, confused. “Not my fault you think my voice is sexy.”

You pat his shoulder. “By the way I sleep in my bra. Is that okay?”

He stutters for a few seconds, then he settles for a strained ‘yeah’.

“You can go to my bedroom and choose a movie.” 

You give him a kiss on the forehead. “Also, don’t be alarmed, my bloody hero suit is still on the floor.” and then you head to the bathroom.

You step into the bathroom, turning the shower on and doing skin care while it heats up. Then you hop into the steamy slice of heaven, humming a song. Your tense back muscles instantly relax. Meanwhile, your mind wanders. Sonar is probably nervously sitting on your bed instead of picking a movie. Just as you finish your thought you hear him faintly yell “Cause’ I’m a fuckin winner!”

You finish rinsing yourself off and step out of the shower. You put on a black bra and matching panties along with some pajama shorts– you can’t just show a stranger your underwear..even if you’ve kissed him twice and you’re in your bra… whatever. You quickly flap your wings to get the water off of them and walk down the hall to your bedroom.

Your towel is hanging across your shoulders when you peak inside. Sonar is sitting on your bed, waiting for you. “Hey.”

He waves. “Hey, I got us a show instead of a movie.”

You lean forward, walking further into the room to inspect the tv. “Breaking Bad?”

“I relate to it a lot.”

You subtly side eye him but decide to ignore that comment. “Make yourself comfy. Do you want to use my fluffy blanket or my regular one?”

“I’m already fluffy, so the regular one… please.”

You grab your regular blanket. “Are you usually this polite?”

“Nope. Never. I only started yesterday.”

You sit close to him, cuddling close on the edge of the bed. “Why?”

“I’m a changed man. If you weren’t there..” His gaze shifts to the floor, a guilty look on his face. “If you weren’t there to give me a second chance at fixing what I broke I wouldn’t have my friends back. I should treat you with respect.”

“You owe me nothing. I was doing my job.“ You turn his face to look at you. “I’m just glad that I did it right.”

“I’m glad you saved me too.” He leans his head on your shoulder, wrapping you in a tight hug. “Now time for our drug show.”

“Not yet.” you walk over to your closet, searching through your clothes. 

You hand Sonar a ridiculously oversized hoodie that's only slightly oversized for him, a favorite of yours. “You need to be comfy too.”

He takes his shirt off, giving his back a big stretch. Though he has an average build you can’t help but watch the way his muscles subtly move under his skin.

You stand there in silence for a few seconds, your ears heating up. 

He walks up to you, his hand gently brushing against yours, then he takes the hoodie from you, sliding it over his head. He turns on his heel, confident as ever, side eyeing you. “You were staring.”

“Wait– don’t you need pants?”, you mumble.

Sonar turns around with a smirk on his face. “Nope, I sleep in my trusty Tighty-whities.”

You stumble over your words before settling on a faint ‘okay, that’s alright’ before Sonar bursts out laughing, walking back over you to place a hand on your shoulder. “You should’ve seen your face! I was kidding, I would like pants. Unless…”

The suggestion hangs in the air as you search for the matching pants of the oversized hoodie-sweat pants pair. You hand it to him, walking over to your bed and turning the opposite way. 

Soon, he turns the lights off and joins you in the bed with his pants on. You grab the remote, cuddling closer to him, and the two of you stay cuddled close throughout the night. Occasionally, Sonar would rant about how Walter White runs his business slightly incorrectly and how he would change it and what he likes about what he’s doing. Yet, every time you asked if he was a drug dealer he vehemently objected, claiming that he just knew a lot about the business. Soon enough, you’re about to fall asleep on his chest, your eyelids heavy.

[...]

You fade into consciousness, your eyes still closed as morning light burns through your eyelids. 

“Yeah! Then we got into bed and we watched Breaking Bad.”

“Her boobs? No! I didn’t stare like a creep..”

“What? Mal, no, I told you..I’ve changed.”

“Yes! People can change that quickly.”

“It was a traumatic experience.”

“Yeah, I’m an asshole for that but sti–”

“Cocaine has nothing to do with this.”

“And I’m working on it.”

“Yes, I’m working on it.”

“You were there when I did 3 lines a day, this is definitely working on it.”

“Mal..no it’s alright I understand. You don’t have to apologise.”

You open your eyes, instantly hiding your face from Sonar.

“Ah– hey, Mal, call you later, she just woke up. I love you!”

You can feel his weight leaning toward you on the bed. “Why are you hiding your face?”

You sigh. “I look ugly in the morning. Just..let my face unfuck itself in 30 minutes.”

He chuckles. “It can’t be that bad. Anyway, it’s 10:00. Do you want to go out for dinner at 18:00?”

You nod, swinging your feet over the bed and doing a long stretch. You peak back at Sonar and catch him staring, his nose a blushy redish-pink. “We can cuddle some more once my face unfucks itself.”

You hesitate, “Or we can do something..if you want. I don’t want to be pushy..”

He shakes his head. “Whatever you want.”

You get up to go to the bathroom where you stop in your tracks, your whole body going stiff. 

“I never told you my name!”

“No biggie, it’s Lunaris.”

You turn to stare at him, shocked for a second. “How do you know my hero name?”

He points to his ears. “I heard your comms that night.”

“Oh, yeah that makes sense.” you nod to yourself. “My real name is [...]”

His ears stiffen. “That’s a beautiful name.”

“My name is Victor”, he says casually.

“‘Cause you’re a fuckin winner?”, you smirk, turning on your heel and walking to the bathroom.

Faintly, you hear him scream. “You heard that?!”

[...]

You’re laying on top of Sonar, his lean arms reaching around you and holding his phone. “So..there’s a sandwich place like 6 kilometers away. And a fancy Italian restaurant 15 kilometers away...”

“What are you made of? Pure gold? That’s the most expensive restaurant in the city.”

“Looks may deceive..oh! There’s a nice ramen place! My best friend and I went there before.”

You squint at the screen, letting your hands wander behind you to his shoulders. “I don’t know. What do you want? Except the Italian restaurant.”

“I could never grow hungry when cuddling you so..I dunno.” He slips one hand across your front, giving you a nice one-armed hug. “So what do you think of the stranger in your bed?”

“I couldn’t imagine not knowing you anymore.” You sigh, “We met last night but we get along so well that I’d feel empty if we didn’t work out.”

You feel his chest silently vibrate against your back. “Thanks! I feel the same. Do you..want to take this slowly?”

You take but a second to think. “We’ll see. How about you take me on another date?”

You feel him slightly shift under you. “You considered that moment at the park a date?”

You nod. “I enjoyed it.”

He sighs. “Welp. I guess I’ll have to wow you with our second date, right?”

You shudder. “Please don’t let it be too expensive.”

“Can’t make any promises. I’ll need to stop at home to get a nice suit.”

[...]

It was no fancy Italian restaurant but you were wowed all the same. You wore a short and cute dress with short-heeled shoes along with your prettiest earrings and necklace set. Victor placed his hand on your back as he guided you to the picnic table. It was decorated beautifully. There were fairy lights wrapped around the surrounding trees, fresh candles burning above a delicious looking dinner on top of an expensive-looking red table cloth. 

Your eyes glittered as you stared into Victor’s eyes, tears nearly spilling over. “It’s beautiful. Better than any Italian dinner anybody else could ever take me to.”

You lean closer to him. His eyes seem to glitter as well. You both close your eyes and share one kiss, marking the beginning of your newly founded relationship. 

“I have something for you.”

Seemingly from thin air, he brings a box from behind his back. You open it to a card under a single golden rose. A single tear falls from your waterline as you read it, and Victor wipes it away.

Inside the card reads:

 “Even though it has only been one day I feel like I’ve come a long way.

I was only able to feel human again because you accepted me and healed me, and gave me a shoulder to cry on at my most vulnerable.

I knew that I needed you. Not many people would do that for a stranger, nor do they cuddle all night with them either, but that’s beside the point.

Because of you I got a second chance– after my first second chance and I cannot thank you enough.

I gift this golden rose to you in gratitude, in the hopes that even if we don’t work out you place this somewhere in your home and you remember that you have an effect on people's lives. My life. A positive, angelic effect. 

Love,

Victor.”

You lean into him for a huge hug, more tears snaking down your face. 

Once you’re finished crying you pull back, holding Victor’s hands. “This is very fast.”

You see his features soften in worry.

“But..I feel something with you, Victor. I want to see where this is going. We don’t have to follow social norms.”

You lean in for another kiss. “If you’ll have me, consider me your girlfriend.”

His hand slides to the small of your back as he guides you to your seat, carefully assisting you as you sit down. Once he sits as well, the two of you talk until the twilight makes the lights burn like a beacon, time passing you by without a care.

[uncommunicativevanillaicecream]

Call of duty

Ghost:

Quiet.

Fragile.

Period comfort

Soap:

Fragile.

[uncommunicativevanillaicecream]

HUGE TRIGGER WARNING!!! CONTAINS SELF HARM AND DESCRIPTIONS OF SELF HARM (I'm not enocourgaing self harm Tumblr, don't give me traumatic flashbacks)

Quiet.

Here's the link to the AO3 post!!

You desperately rummaged through your dresser, displacing clothes and digging deeply. Your clothes smelled strongly of detergent. The strong smell made your head spin. Finally, you found it. You pull out your old box cutter, a rush of diseased affection screaming from your heart. No matter what, your box cutter was there for you. Friends came and went but your secret addiction was there, a soothing hand on your back.

Just as you picked it up the voices began to scream at you again. They told you horrible things. They mocked the way you looked, insulted your personality– your eyes burn, dry and throbbing, and your throat closes up. You swallow hard. You lay down on your bed, throwing yourself across the comforter. You take in a deep breath, playing with the box cutter in your hands. You stare at it for a bit. It’s somehow still sharp after all this time. There’s a dried blood stain lower on the blade, and the handle is in good condition other than a few nicks in the smooth plastic. 

You sit up, staring at the floor. Do you really want to do this? If anyone finds out they’ll be disappointed in you. They’ll hate you for not being clean. Perfect. Then you’ll only fall deeper into the pit of agonizing self hatred and you’re already drowning in it. You slide your sleeve up, the old scars greeting you– distant memories. You slide the blade out, laying it flat on your arm and pushing down with as much pressure as you can before you quickly slice yourself open.

The wound is a gaping mouth of agony, your body begging for mercy. It gapes open, revealing the white of the fat underneath your skin. You stare in amazement, small beads of red taking their time to shine through. Your shoulders relax, your head clear. Finally, you smile as your blood oozes out, sliding down your arm like a thick tear. 

Your body cries so that you don’t have to.

You line the blade up again, aiming for a deeper cut this time. Your body calms down, still with focus. You slice again, and again. You’re mid swipe when you look to your right– you almost fuck it up and cut your vein as you nearly jump out of your skin. You lean back on your bed, bloody box cutter in hand. “Simon?! Please, knock or something next time. Don’t just sneak up on people…”

He kneels down to your level, his mask not betraying an iota of emotion. His eyes are glued to your arm. “You seemed busy.”

You glance at your arm as well, acting quickly as the blood begins to drop down onto your bed. “Fuck!”

You grab the nearest  towel, allowing it to soak up the blood. You wouldn’t be cutting anymore, sadly. At least for now. He sits on your bed, staring at you with those eyes that make you feel vulnerable, like he could see everything and peer into your very soul.

You sit in silence together. Ghost’s eyes bounce between your face and your arm. You sigh, deflating. The adrenaline from cutting has run out. Hesitantly, you lay your head on Ghost’s shoulder. He stiffens but doesn’t move. “How long?”

Your fingers dig into his hoodie. “I can hardly remember. I started young.”

You feel him nod, then he takes his gloves off, placing them on your bed. His hands slowly peel away the towel as if he’s trying not to scare a frightened animal. His fingers are gentle and leave goosebumps in their path as they slide under your arm, clutching your elbow. When more blood oozes down your arm he goes to gently pat it with the towel. You feel cornered– like this is the end, but you fight against your instincts to run away from vulnerability and trust him. 

His face is unreadable as he stares at every inch of your arm, observing every single cut– healed and fresh. He dabs at your cuts which are now lazily pooling with blood. After your cuts begin to clot he pauses, staring at your cuts a moment longer. You can almost see him thinking. His eyes flick toward the towel in his hand before he brings it to his mask. He takes a deep inhale. “This towel isn’t clean.”

You nod, embarrassment tingling in your spine. “I panicked.”

He wraps his large hand around yours, pulling you toward the bathroom. You stand there, towel in hand, as he meticulously tests the temperature of the water. Not too hot, not too cold. Finally, he firmly grips your arm and runs clean water over it. Your skin is inflamed and raw around the cuts. Your cuts look more baby pink than white as the water steals little pieces of the thickened blood on top. Finally he turns the water off, pulling you toward him and sitting you down on the toilet seat. 

He rummages through your cabinet, looking for bandages. He grabs a large box of gauze. He kneels down in front of you, staring straight into your eyes. “You don’t plan to do this again any time soon, right?”

You shake your head hesitantly. “I don’t.”

He wraps gauze around your arm. It’s firm but not tight, allowing just enough room for your arm to breathe. When he finishes tending to your wounds the two of you lay in your bed, side by side. He looks out of place. His feet hang off of the bed a little bit, but nevertheless he decides to lay with you. His hand finds yours, the back of your hands gently brushing each other. “Next time you want to cut, call me.”

You shift to look at him. “I can’t promise you that. Quitting isn’t easy.”

“I never said you had to quit. I said to call me.”

You sigh. “Why?”

He continues studying your ceiling. “I want to be there for you.”

You let his words hang in the air for a moment. The voices scream in your head again. You’re such a selfish bitch. You hurt him.

“I’m sorry,” your voice sounds small. “Are you disappointed?”

He breaks eye contact with the ceiling to turn to you. He locks eyes with you for a second before shaking his head. “Why would I be disappointed? You’re still fighting. You just need a little help.”

Tears burn at your eyes but you don’t let them fall. Not yet. You lock your fingers between his. “Can I trust you?”

“Yes.”

Without hesitation the tears begin to fall. You scoot closer burying your head in the side of his shoulder. Simon looks at you out of the corner of his eye, gently massaging your hand in his own. “That’s it. Let it out.”

Eventually, you tire yourself out and fall asleep. The next morning you wake up with multiple pillows tucked under you, keeping you comfortable. Fear stabs your heart and you begin searching for your box cutter desperately. You search the entirety of the bed and you clumsily force yourself from under the covers and upright, almost tripping. Then you see it– it’s on your night stand with a note. 

“The choice is yours. I’ll always be here for you. -Simon”

You smile, rereading the note in your hand multiple times. Maybe this time you’ll really recover.

[uncommunicativevanillaicecream]

HUGE FREAKING TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE ATTEMPT, REFERENCED SELF HARM

The relationships are pretty ambiguous, it can be poly, platonic, or reader x Ghost or Soap. So choose your own perspective!! If you relate to this please don't do it. Life has alot to ask for and to experience. It doesn't matter if you live to see what bullshit happens next, or for the next thrill, just living is enough. And maybe in the future, things will get better and you'll be happy that you survived a time like this.

Fragile.

Here's the AO3 link :>

You barely breathe, your gaze empty. You’re staring at a wall, but you’re not really staring. You’re barely even present. All that you can think about is fear and anguish. You feel the claws of an old friend wrapping themselves around you. The sting hurts so good. The boom of the music in your earbuds washes over you, blasting loudly. This is where you’re comfortable. This is your normal. Thoughts race through your head, each like a thick needle stabbed straight into your brain. You almost flinch at the pain. You want desperately to dig your fingers into your scalp and try your best to rip your skull open and pull the thoughts out one by one, but you can’t. You want to move, but your unfocused eyes continue to stare straight ahead, and your arms, like heavy bricks, sit unmoving except for the tiny twitch of your brain trying its best to move. 

The burning continues, spreading burning hot agony into your eyes until they throb, unblinking, and soon it claws its way down to your throat. The pressure builds, becoming more agonizing by the second. You want to rip your face off and see what’s hiding under your skin. The thoughts rage through your head, unforgiving. 

YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH. Your diaphragm hesitates, your breathing becoming more ragged. Your arm twitches, a small part of your brain trying to stop you. YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING WORTHLESS YOU ARE WHY ARE YOU HOLDING BACK FUCKING KILL YOURSELF. You let out a weak whimper and wrench your eyes shut, your hand flying toward your head involuntarily. You clench it into a fist, beating yourself with all of your might.

You bring your fist up. WORTHLESS. PIECE. OF. SHIT. FUCKING BURDEN. YOU’D BE BETTER OFF DEAD.

And then silence. You look down at your hands, trying desperately to rip your nails off and relieve this pain. Tears burn behind your eyes but never fall. The thoughts circle around, feeling almost verbal. Next you grab something sharp– anything you can find. You hold your hand out, weakly stabbing it over and over again with a pair of scissors, begging for the pain to subside. 

Eventually, you give up. You sit there again, scissors loosely in your limp hand. What the fuck? You try to overpower the voices in your head with your own, screaming at yourself. Don’t cut while you’re angry. Don’t cut while you’re angry. Don’t cut while you’re angry. Don’t cut while you’re angry. Don’t cut while you’re angry. Don’t cut while you’re angry. Don’t cut while you’re angry. Don’t cut while you’re angry. Don’t cut while you’re angry. Don’t cut while you’re angry. YOU USELESS FUCKING BITCH.  Don’t cut while you’re angry. Don’t cut while you’re angry. I BET THEY ALL HATE YOU BUT THEY JUST PRETEND THEY DON’T. Don’t cut while you’re angry. THEY ALL LAUGH BEHIND YOUR BACK.

You think of Ghost and Soap, your friends. Every time you broke down like this and held on to your sanity you would call Johnny and he would come over and care for you. Sometimes Ghost would come along too. When you stabbed yourself he would gently take away the scissors, whispering kind words to you. On those nights the voices screamed you would tell him what they said and he would tell you they were wrong. When you didn’t have the energy to exist he would help you feel okay. He would make it easy. He would run you a bath or start a shower for you and carry you there, and when he came, Ghost would sit with you as you cried, telling stories of his life. Sometimes funny ones, sometimes sad ones.

Ghost wasn’t like Johnny. He wouldn’t coddle you. He would make you meals, and drink with you if you needed it. He would be there to listen on nights you didn’t need cuddles and a bedtime story, but you needed someone to listen. Someone to hear your screams and not try to fix you. 

Every time you called on them your anxiety got heavier. What if they were beginning to get annoyed? What if they hated you now? What if they block you? What if they’re just tired of caring for an adult that couldn’t do shit for themselves sometimes? An adult that needed cuddles and bedtime stories because they lacked that kind of love growing up. They were not your parents.

So you stopped calling. You put your fake smile back on and shut everyone out. You pretended to be better, but you could feel Ghost’s skeptical gaze on the back of your neck as you lied through your teeth. On bad days you still lied. Lies spilled out of you like the rush of water after a dam breaks. I’m alright now, I guess it was just a bad time in my life! It just randomly went away! You felt naked under Ghost’s eyes. They were expressive if you stared into them deeply enough. 

You could see this look in his eyes whenever you lied. You would nervously glance at him when you were so tired that your arms and legs barely moved and you lied about it. You lied and you lied and you lied and you lied and you lied and…eventually Ghost didn’t keep silent. He told Johnny and they talked to you. He told you that he saw everything, but deep inside you wished that reality was just as much of a dream as happiness was for you. You wished that you had been wrong. 

Anger grew from your discomfort, and you tried your best to get rid of it– to get rid of Ghost and Johnny. Your eyes blazed furiously, hurling rude remarks and curses at them. You. Did. Not. Need. HELP. You needed to suffer alone because that was all that you knew. THEY ARE THE WEIRD ONES. Your heart shattered into a million pieces as you screamed such horrible things at them. Before you left, you saw a hurt look in Johnny’s eyes. That’s when your heart was set ablaze.

You hated them both for loving you. Your whole life you were forced to accept the fact that nobody was coming to help you. You accepted that you would always be alone to be tormented by your thoughts, and forced to stay alive because whenever you did try to get help nobody fucking listened. You begged for it, but all that they saw was what you had. You had a roof over your head, clothes, food…why would you be depressed? And fuck, if you said you wanted to kill yourself? A cacophony of braindead screams. A mindless reiteration of what you’re ‘supposed’ to say.  “Suicide is selfish.”, “Suicide is so stupid why would you want to die?”, “Suicide is so pointless you’ll just go to hell.”

Those abusive voices kept you alive and corrupted your existence all in the same. To them you were a mindless puppet, obligated to live because everyone that “loves” you would be sad if you’d gone and died. 

You begin to violently shake, struggling with your self control. Your body seems to move on its own, grabbing the rope. You don’t even feel your body move. You’re already gone. You tie the knot. Practiced a thousand times. Times like this when you were close, so fucking close. Finally you stand there, the rope snug on your neck like a long lost friend. You can’t explain it. The snug feeling feels like home. It brings an uneasy calm to you. Your shoulders relax, and you take a deep breath, savoring it as it will be your last one. You feel great.

You kick the chair and your thoughts slow, cruising along like a beautiful slow waltz. Your music screaming in your ears seems to dull as you feel the blood pool in your face. Your eyes go black and your teeth and nose buzz with pain, the flow of blood disrupted. Finally, your eyes become weak, and you feel as if you’re entering a long, hard-earned nap. You didn’t even leave a note.

Your body barely reacts as the rope snaps, and warm hands cage around you, bringing you gently to the ground. One of your earbuds finally falls out and you hear the rush of panic around you. Johnny screams a string of curses as Ghost sheaths his knife, glaring up at the severed rope. He pulls out his phone, kneeling down next to you. 

The blood rushes back to your brain but you lay there, paralyzed, unable to move an inch. You’re awake, but you’re also asleep in a way. You’re lucid but unable to move, a world between consciousness and death. You feel a tinge of fear as your breathing slows. You can’t control the rise and fall of your chest. Your eyes gently fall closed as you hear the screams of your two friends, calling out your name. Then you take one last breath and still. You’re still aware of it, your mind racing and begging for air. 

To those outside you appear dead, but you are anything but as your mind fights against the call of death. Then finally, your eyes shoot open and you take in a deep breath. Johnny instantly pulls you into a sitting position, flashing a light into your eyes. “Shit! You scared us! Ambulance is on the way.”

You nod, rubbing at your eyes. It hurts to move them. You shrink, wishing to have the rope around your neck once again. Your voice comes out hoarse and muddy. “I’m sorry.”

Johnny pulls you close, an arm around your shoulder, and Ghost sits next to you, an arm resting on his knee and his other hand tangled with yours. Finally, the dam breaks and you cry, gripping Ghost’s hand tightly. You speak between breathless gasps. “Will you...Can you stay with me? When the ambulance comes?”

Ghost doesn’t speak, giving your hand a squeeze. Johnny nods, his chin on top of your head. “I wouldn’t leave you for the world, bonnie.”