#Feeling sluggish today but I promised I WILL write so maybe I will catch up on those muse thought drafts?

[chiropterx]

How evil are you (from 0 to 100 percent)?

"96% evil? What..? No, but... that's so high?" Kirk mumbles. He's crestfallen.

See? Man-Bat was innocent of these heinious accusations all along! Well, mostly innocent. FREE HIM. Tagged ByStolen from: @draggeddowntothedark and @the-blackened-doveTagging: Whoever would like to do this??

[ghostfacesvalentine]

Ten steps ahead - Scott Lang x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Scott Lang x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of negative body image, sad reader, can get into some touchy subjects but nothing too severe.

Type: One shot

Request: *whispers* can you make a comforting scott lang fic where the reader is on their period and is sad for no reason. Sorry i just want comfort bye!(maybe that one giant ant lays with them on the couch like a dog while they watch sad animal memes)

Word Count: 1,790

Prompt: Scott Lang (baby) Comforts reader that’s on their period

Notes: Girl I feel you, this is actually the cutest request I’ve gotten. I didn’t get to add the big boi but I hope you liked this! I certainly enjoyed writing it. I want me a Scott when I get like this.

This always happens, when the time comes around to this lovely time of the month: mood drops, bloating, stomach aches, body aches really and not to mention, your self esteem seemed to plummet lower than the titanic.

You’ve been spending more and more time with Scott after his run in at the airport. There had been plenty of back and forth with you and him about the whole situation, though you knew the job he took up would endanger him from time to time, the experience still didn’t soothe your nerves. Thankfully after the airport incident Scott decided to stay low and only alternate between Cassie and the studio you were staying at with him and Luis. 

Scott has always been great about picking up on small things, making sure you felt at home and cared for. It was no different when you started your period.

The pain at times felt unbearable, your mood definitely changed, you became more sluggish and reserved. Luis even managed to pick up on it. Watching you snuggle up in a few blankets, wearing an oversized sweater, fuzzy socks and avoiding making much movement, he began to familiarize himself with these actions during these few days every month.

“What’s up with Y/N?” He’d ask Scott when you wouldn’t be your usual self, to which Scott would just sigh and roll his eyes at the obliviousness of Luis.

This week was no different, you felt sluggish again, bloated. Passing by the mirror after you showered was no help either. You caught a glimpse of yourself, then stared a bit too long for your liking.

Of course, as it did at times, it sent you down a spiral, you began to overanalyze your body, parts of your body that were normal, stretch marks, bumps, cuts, bruises, discoloration, it seemed you were looking at yourself with a microscope until eventually Scott’s voice snapped you out of it. 

“Y/N?” He called out from the hallway, the sound of bags rustling came along with his voice. You looked up frowning not knowing exactly what to say at first. “Yeah? I’m in here.” You tended to take longer showers in hopes of making yourself feel better, the heat of the water relieved some of the muscle ache. There was also hope that after the shower it would alleviate some of the sluggishness and grossness that you’d feel throughout the day.

Scott knew your ritual, he felt the warmth of the now-steaming bathroom from the hallway he stepped through. “I brought take out, I don’t know, I didn’t ask but- what’s wrong?” His smile shifting to a pout as you looked up to him, wrapped in a towel and headed towards the closet. 

You didn’t know what was wrong, or more like, you didn’t know how to express it or even process it, but Scott seemed to be ten steps ahead of you.

Your eyes just gloomed over to his for a few seconds, it surely didn’t take longer than three for him to catch on. His pout remained, he always told you he wished he could help you more with the pain and the certain ickiness you tended to feel. 

You had to admit, Scott was great, he was the best actually when it came to comforting you. Maybe it was because he had a daughter or maybe this was just second nature to him, either way you tried your best to keep him from feeling your wrath while you were menstruating.

“Oh. Well, get dressed, I know reheated food doesn’t taste the best.” Scott raised the bags gathered at his hands and just like that he disappeared into the living room. You always hated this part, getting ready after a warm shower, everything stuck onto you.

Tonight was no different, there was no way your clothes were going to show you any mercy whether you were bleeding or not. You slipped into a t shirt that fit you two sizes too big and somehow your hair managed to get tangled at the neck part of it. You growled in annoyance, it was no secret you were incredibly fussy, which only opted the men to exchange glances to each other from the living room they all ate at.

Sliding into the piece of clothing eventually, here came the most annoying part, the leggings and the socks. Sometimes they’d have a hard time sliding up when your legs were damp, no matter how many times you dragged the towel across your skin.

After what seemed like twenty attempts, you hissed in annoyance and tossed your socks aside a bit too hard. The sound of the pair of tiny socks hitting the cabinet across from you echoed through the bathroom. 

Nobody knew what you were exactly up to, but the sound of something hitting a surface was enough to have everyone look to each other, The apartment wasn’t huge by any means, but when things would fall or hit any surface, sometimes it could be heard down the hall or even at the kitchen. Since there was nothing playing in the background while they inhaled their dinner, your frustration was taken into notice.

It was maybe Luis that was getting worried about you, Scott agreed that you were taking too long but it was obvious no one else was going to go check on you. Scott was the one encouraged to see how you were doing, which he would’ve done even if he wasn’t volunteered to do so.

“Y/n?” He asked as he walked up the hallway toward the bathroom, knocking on the door. You didn’t respond which only left him to worry more. “Y/n? I’m coming in, are you alright?” 

You greeted him with watery eyes of frustration, you usually weren’t like this all the time but maybe today was just a really bad day. You made your attempts to have a nice relaxing day, but here you were on the floor, with your underwear holding a sticky pad that felt like a diaper, unable to put your socks and leggings on.

“Oh y/n.” Scott cooed, he tried to suppress his laugh, in hopes of not making worse. Walking over to you as you lowered your head, with hot tears streaming down your face. You couldn’t help it and Scott knew it. Although it was silly, he knew it wasn’t your fault.

There was not a word you could say, you knew your voice would quiver and it would send you down a spiral of emotions. Usually at times like this, one small sad thought would snowball into a bundle of depressing thoughts that maybe hadn’t crossed your mind in a while.

Scott didn’t hesitate to lean down and help you get your socks on, his touch was so gentle it made you want to curl onto him. You looked to him as his face puzzled when it came to your leggings.

“Well no wonder you can’t get them on sweetheart, are these new?” You couldn’t even whimper out a yes, only wiping your face with the back of your arm you nodded when Scott looked to you for a response. “I can’t even tell which one is the backside and which ones the front, it doesn’t even have a tag.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle when you gazed into his frustrated look. “I have some shorts that are too small on me, we can figure out this pant situation later, come on.” Scott tossed the pair of leggings over his shoulder. Before he could stand, he looked to you, who although erupted a small laugh, still sat on the bathroom floor sulking.

It was then that you felt his arms slide from under you, hooking you from under your knees and your backside, he lifted you up with a grin in hopes that it would reflect onto you and admittedly it kind of did.

After you changed into the shorts Scott promised you, you were out and into the living room, everyone made the effort to not acknowledge what just happened, instead they focused on their phones, computer, TV or food. It was only Scott that greeted you and made you a spot on the couch.

He even brought you the two fluffiest blankets he could find, enough for you to cocoon yourself if you wanted to. You pulled your legs up towards your chest as you looked to the TV, it was Diehard that was playing on the screen, mostly as background noise to avoid hearing your irritated fit in the bathroom.

“Did you want to change the channel? We’re not really watching that.” Scott scoffed as he looked around the room. “Are there any cartoons we could watch?” You felt like a child, especially in a room full of people who had gotten away with crimes and all sorts of trouble, though you knew they weren’t violent per say. 

When you were in pain or in any kind of miserable mood, cartoons, especially from your childhood, seemed to comfort you rather quickly. Scott knew this and it was a form of remedy for him as well, so he didn’t hesitate to fulfill your request.

It didn’t come as a surprise to him, he was happy to oblige, he’d be lying if he said him and Luis didn’t enjoy a few reruns of a few cartoons from their childhood. 

You sat there in your cozy nest as Scott changed the channels, you took a few bites from your take out, it was still warm and fresh, just as Scott would hope. He truly was great, even with everything going on in the world and working with the avengers now, he still made the effort to make sure you were okay. Whether you were on your period or not, Scott was super attentive, even that would be an understatement.

He never suffocated you, maybe when you’d have pillow fights, or when he smothered you in blankets, but he wasn’t helicoptering over you.

A few hours passed and you both only shifted around to get into a more comfortable position, but neither of you had stood up since you sat down. 

You and Scott didn’t give it much thought, he was sitting there, throughout the cartoon marathon he managed to scoot closer to you and you made your way to lean over towards him. His body was much warmer than the arm of the couch, not to mention more comfortable too. 

Scott was even reaching over for your drink, bringing it up to your face so you didn’t have to take your hands out of your blanket, it was really the only time his eyes would leave the screen. 

It was an odd site, but cute nevertheless. 

[dastardlydandelion]

Billy having the bust appendix episode?

so i combined these into one thingy??

also the latter, uh, it's. like?? i played w ur prompt, dude, chose to focus more on the concept of "not lasting" w susan and max tho bc if i write neil for too long it'll inevitably turn into another murder fic.

ao3 link

content warnings: referenced/discussed abuse, brief suicidal ideation

“Day four of fever, fella. That’s no fun.” Susan sets the thermometer aside with a frown and brushes the back of her hand over his cheek.

Billy blinks slowly at the touch. It wasn’t that long ago that he would’ve pushed her away. He hasn’t exactly enjoyed having the Stomach Flu From Hell for the better half of the week, but he supposes if there was ever a time to get sick, it’s now. Because these past few days have been the last few days he’s ever going to get with Susan and Max. He can use being sick as an excuse to let them get close like this. He can let himself let them close without feeling defensive or embarrassed because after tonight, he’ll never see them again.

“I feel better,” he mumbles as she brushes his fringe back, pad of her thumb gingerly lingering over the nick in his brow. “Really, Sue, s’not as bad today.”

And it’s not. Today’s Wednesday and he’s been feeling shitty since Sunday night, sluggish and nauseous with a nagging stomachache. He managed not to puke up Sunday dinner until Monday morning, although he didn’t actually make it to the bathroom. Susan scrubbed it out of his bedroom carpet even though Billy told her to leave it. Max stayed home from school to keep him company, which really…genuinely meant a lot to Billy, considering skipping school meant sacrificing some of the little time remaining with her friends. And she did it to just to hang out with his sweaty, grouchy, probably contagious and definitely less sociable self.

His stomachache got worse throughout the day but he hadn’t said anything about it to anyone. Didn’t say anything on Tuesday either, even though by evening it hurt so fucking bad it was like there was an invisible knife carving into his guts, blade twisting so terribly the only thing that helped at all was curling into a fetal position. Billy was almost frightened, actually. He doesn’t believe he’s ever felt worse than the torture he went through Tuesday, not even at his father’s hands.

But he couldn’t say anything. Not with everything going on. He wouldn’t do anything to possibly compromise the plan. Couldn’t let himself do anything that could delay their escape. So he sucked it up and kept his mouth screwed shut, endured in silence.

The relentless agony of nonexistent knives twisting through his guts kept him up all night. Then very early this morning, just as the sunrise’s first rays began to lighten the sky, the pain subsided. Billy still feels uncomfortable and he’d probably hurl again if he got a whiff of goat cheese or canned sardines, but it doesn’t compare to the misery of last night.

“How about I put the kettle on? Ginger tea is good for stomach bugs.”

“Nah.”

“What about chamomile?”

“No.”

“Peppermint?”

“Stop, Sue. I don’t want tea.”

“Please. You’ve barely kept anything down all week and you’re sweating like a turkey at Christmas. You’ll feel even worse if you get dehydrated, Billy.”

Susan retracts her hand with a fretful noise in her throat and turns to the door. With a sudden spike of panic that she’s— she’s leaving —he frees an arm from the blanket and grabs her wrist. Susan jumps as though she’s touched a hot stove. Billy immediately lets go. He wasn’t thinking.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Susan, I just…”

Chewing her lip, she nods down at him. She carefully sits on the edge of his bed, one leg folding on the mattress, opposite foot still on the floor. She takes his face in her chilly hands and Billy heaves out a sigh.

“I wish things were different,” she murmurs. “If the, uh…if the p-place Max and I are going accepted boys your age, you’d be coming with us. I promise I’d take you with us if I could.”

The shelter doesn’t allow male children over age twelve, Susan had informed Billy the night she told him they were leaving. She’d said it apologetically, eyes sorrowful like the look she’s giving him right now. She’s said it like it scraped her throat on the way out, tragic and grave as though she were reading him his own obituary.

It was the oddest thing Billy couldn’t begin to comprehend. He wouldn’t go with them even if going with them was an option. And never had he ever expected it to be an option. He doesn’t understand why Susan is looking at him like that.

“I just grabbed you. I shouldn’t have grabbed you.”

Susan’s face twitches like he’s the one being weird, like it isn’t she who’s looking at him with all these things he never wanted from her.

“You didn’t hurt me, Billy, just startled me a bit. I’m as skittish as a doe and of course today is…it’s a big day.”

“…what time?”

Susan spares a glance to his door. Still shut. Neil’s getting ready for work and he wouldn’t dare enter Billy’s room right now anyway. Wouldn’t risk catching whatever Billy has. He’d sent Susan in the bathroom Monday after Billy had barely stumbled out, wan from the latest round of purging, in drill sergeant mode and demanding that Susan bleach every contaminated tile.

“Noon. I want to drive in the daylight. Max is staying home from school. I told your father she caught your bug.”

Billy raises a brow.

“She didn’t,” Susan clarifies. “But he didn’t question the excuse. She’s sleeping in, I think it’s best to let her sleep in. It’s a big day.”

“Big day,” Billy repeats quietly.

Susan’s hands are still on his face, gentle and cool. Billy feels hot. The past few days he’s felt too cold or too hot, no in between. He’s either burrowing under the blankets to ward off the icy chills or laying on the bathroom tile to ease the sensation of roasting in his skin.

“I’m going to make you some tea, okay? You don’t have to drink it, but I’d appreciate it if you did. Fluids are important, Billy.”

Susan slides her hands off and Billy wonders if perhaps that’s the last time she’ll ever touch him. She leaves his room. Quietly closes the door behind her. Billy rolls onto his side and wraps his arm around his stomach, wondering if he should’ve let her closer before. If he should’ve let Max closer too.

Maybe it’s better he didn’t. Maybe losing them would hurt more if he did. And it does hurt. Even when the minutes tick down to the time they will exchange their final goodbyes, he’ll never say it out loud, but it hurts. It’s going to gut him when they go.

But it’s good that they’re going. And it’s good that he’s not. Billy ensured early on that Susan knew never to act like his mother. And Susan never seemed particularly passionate about trying, maybe there was even some relief for her that Billy had shut down every feeble attempt, that she never had to claim him. Billy never asked for Max either. The responsibility of a little sister. The pressure of having to set a good example for her, more reasons for Neil to be pissed at him whenever he inexorably failed. Max thought he was cool when they were younger, then there was that really rough patch after the move, and now things are better.

Things are probably the best they’ve ever been between him and Susan, between him and Max, and he’s going to miss them. Billy wants them to leave. Billy wants to be left. But the separation, the severing, the knowledge that he will never see them again pounds his heart like brass knuckles. He’s never going to watch Susan take another spider outside in a tissue, humming her weird little singsong. He’s never going to have to groan and roll his eyes over being Max’s designated chauffeur to the arcade, the park, the monster movie matinee.

He’s going to be alone with Neil.

Susan brings Billy a ceramic mug of steaming tea. She feels his forehead and probes at the sides of his neck, humming in concern. He would never let her fawn over him without a fight on a normal day. He’s only receptive now because he knows they aren’t going to be in each other’s lives anymore. He doesn’t know what to do with the fact that he kind of likes the fawning, but maybe he wouldn’t— maybe he wouldn’t like it at all if she wasn’t leaving, maybe the leaving makes it special. Or maybe it’s easier to think of it that way than to wonder if it would’ve been better to have this kind of relationship all along.

Billy watches the steam rise from the mug. He doesn’t touch the tea. He’s exhausted and he finds himself drifting, dozing off…

When Billy blinks his eyes back open, he’s dismayed to find his stomach hurting again. It might actually be the stomachache that wakes him up. Either the stomachache or Max in the doorway, hand on the knob.

“Are you awake?”

“I am now.” Billy begins to push himself up on his elbows, pauses when his gut lurches.

So much for that plan.

He settles back, and rolls onto his side, tucking his knees up to his chest under the blanket. Some of the pain abates. This position is still the winner.

“Are you okay?” Max rests her hand on the mattress, cocking her head to the side. “Do you need the trash can again?”

“Nah.”

“Okay…My mom’s loading up the car.”

“Yeah?” Billy really hopes she isn’t here to ask him to help. If she does, he will, but just the idea of rolling out of bed sounds like a grandiose effort.

“Yeah. Can I hang out for a little bit?”

Something thick rises in his throat. “Sure thing, shitbird.”

Max climbs onto the bed and over Billy, jostling him enough to make him queasy. She sits at his back. He can’t see her but he feels her hand settle on his shoulder.

“Your room smells like gym socks and barf,” she remarks, scowl audible in her voice.

“When you catch this from me, your room’s gonna smell the same way,” he mutters. Only after the words have left his lips, does Billy really realize what he’s said.

Max’s bedroom here on Cherry Lane isn’t really her bedroom anymore. Susan’s putting her belongings in the car. The next time Max gets sick, maybe it won’t be in a bedroom of her own at all. Or it will be her bedroom in a house far away from here. It’ll be a room Billy will never go in and he’ll never have the opportunity to tease her.

“I’m kinda nervous about the shelter, Billy,” she admits, voice quiet and unsure. “I was nervous when we first moved to Hawkins too. But this is a different kind of nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous,” Billy mutters. “You’re gonna be safer there than you are here.”

“Supposedly,” Max huffs. “You know Neil’s going to be pissed when he finds out. What if he comes after us?”

“I won’t let him,” Billy declares, meaning every word.

“Could you really stop him?”

Billy curls a little tighter in an effort to ease the pain spreading through his stomach. It’s beginning to be more than a nuisance but he’s doing his best not to be distracted. Max needs him right now. This is the last time he’ll ever be an older brother. That’s more important, that’s the thing he needs to devote his attention to. He never asked for the job and he hasn’t been exceptional at it, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try to soothe his soon to be ex-sister’s worries with her small hand shaking ever so slightly on his shoulder.

He cranes his neck back to meet her eye and flashes a winning grin he hopes looks less forced than it feels.

”Let’s put it this way, he’d have to kill me to get to you.”

Instead of being reassured, Max looks spooked.

“I really thought he was going to, you know. That night.”

Ah, that night. Billy knows which. He was feeling pretty ballsy, feeling strong and bold after a good workout and a couple of beers. When Neil got in his shit that night, for the very first time, Billy threw a punch.

He remembers thinking that things would go in his favor if he could just get Neil to the ground. That’s the last thing he remembers, actually. Thinking that. And maybe it really would’ve gone in his favor if he’d gotten Neil down. But he didn’t.

Billy doesn’t actually remember what happened. But it definitely wasn’t that.

“He wouldn’t really go that far, Max. Neil talks a big game, but I’m all he’s got and he knows it.”

Max doesn’t seem convinced in the least.

“I think that’s what made Mom decide we had to go,” she says quietly. “That night.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Billy says, tone sharp.

Max glowers, clearly disagreeing. Billy matches her stare.

“…I wonder if there will be other kids my age,” Max murmurs eventually, changing the subject.

Evidently neither of them want to argue their remaining time together away.

If there are kids her age, they’ll be girls, like Neil always wanted. No boys over twelve permitted stay. Billy shifts his head back, eyes sliding from Max and off to the wall. He’s starting to feel Tuesday night’s painful sort of nausea. Like his guts are going through a meat grinder.

“It’ll suck if I’m just surrounded by adults the whole time. However long that’s gonna be…Mom wouldn’t say.”

“Maybe she doesn’t know yet, Max.”

“Maybe not. She’s trying to keep her cool but I can tell she’s nervous. Even more than me and I can’t let on that I’m nervous at all, not to Mom, because then she’ll really flip her lid. She tried so hard to convince me everything will be okay at the shelter. She’ll feel like a failure if she knows I’m scared and Neil’s already made her feel a failure over and over. I won’t do it too.”

This is the last conversation they’re ever going to have. This is the last time they’re ever going to talk to each other. Max is on the precipice of another massive move to somewhere new. All the secrecy and uncertainties surrounding it make it all the more of a transition and Billy’s last job as her older brother is this conversation. He’s trying to focus on it, on her, but the pain in his stomach is growing more insistent.

“Billy?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think we’ll ever see each other again?”

Billy curls his fingers in the bedsheets and silently begs for it not to get any worse. Not now. Max is leaving, Susan is leaving, fuck it— his fucking family is leaving and he can’t do this right now.

“…uh…yeah. I’m gonna get out of this Hawkins dump as soon as I can. And I bet you and your mom will find somewhere for yourselves better than this dump too, without Neil steering the wheel…how about, five years from now, we meet up in Cali? At least you and me, Sue can come too if she wants.”

Billy doesn’t think she would. Things have been better between him and his stepmother, yeah, but. He knows what he is. And Max— Max too, really. She thinks she’ll want to see him again now. Things have been better and maybe there’s even a part of her that still thinks of him as her cool big brother, but when she gets some distance, she’ll get some perspective and neither of them will want anything to do with him anymore. By then he’ll just be one more ugly part of an ugly life, the wayward offspring of the enemy.

By then he’ll be nothing but a reminder and no one wants reminders.

Max hums thoughtfully. “Yeah. We could do that, right? I always wanted to go back to San Diego…”

She squeezes his shoulder and Billy shuts his eyes. It’s getting harder to ignore how awful he feels. His whole body sagging with the overall illness laying him low. The torrent of nausea washing over him even though he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have anything left to puke up. The vengeful reprisal of the invisible knife, carving into his guts with a silent wrath.

“…does that sound good? …Billy?”

“What?” He blinks rapidly.

“The zoo, sick brain.” She huffs a little and gives his shoulder another squeeze. “In five years, let’s meet up at the zoo. In the gift shop where you stole the lion keychain.”

“Hey, you remember that.”

“You stole a gag giraffe toy for me too, the squishy one. When you squeeze it, the eyes pop out.”

“Pfft, yeah…I said, ‘look, it’s your mom’ and slipped it in your backpack.”

“I still have that giraffe, Billy,” she continues, voice determined. “I’m bringing it with me. I’ll look at it every day so I don’t forget our meeting place.”

Billy doesn’t really feel like talking anymore. He just wants to shove his head under the pillow and sleep it off, sleep it out. Wake up when his stomach isn’t being stabbed and his heart isn’t being strangled.

It’s a shining fantasy, that’s all. A fuzzy, glowing thing that will never happen. He’s just playing along for Max’s sake.

“What day, Max?”

“I was thinking the Fourth of July. You dad always made sure the fourth was the biggest Hargrove household holiday.” Billy can hear her roll her eyes. “Neither of us will ever forget that date, not even in five years.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “Sounds good. We’ll meet again at the San Diego Zoo gift shop in five years, on the fourth.”

“Pinky swear?”

Moving makes the pain worse. Any movements, even small ones.

“Nah. My hands are all sweaty and contagious, you don’t wanna touch ‘em.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m not getting you sick, Max,” Billy states firmly. “You’ve got enough going on.”

There is a pregnant pause.

“I really do,” she says eventually, her tone wary. “I hate Neil. But leaving him means leaving you and my friends, and going somewhere with a bunch of total strangers who have their own Neils who might come after us.”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“It could! Stranger things have happened! Stranger things happen all the time!”

Max smacks her hands together and does something with her arms that shifts her weight and in turn, shifts the mattress. The minute movement multiplies the knives and the stabs, and Billy agonizes, grinding his molars against a hiss as those knives in his gut twist so hard he’s already seeing fireworks.

“What’s wrong?”

It hurts so bad. This isn’t the flu. Billy doesn’t know what it is, but it’s definitely not the flu.

“Billy?”

Christ, is he dying?

“Hey.” The back of Max’s hand rests against his cheek, smaller and warmer than her mother’s was, fabric bandaid under her knuckles now protecting that scab she wouldn’t stop picking at. “Geez, you’re burning up. Are you dying?”

He’d gibe back at her if he wasn’t seriously evaluating this possibility. He momentarily considers telling her that he is, that it’s so fucking bad it’s like knives. Then he blinks and Susan’s here, half-in-half-out, one foot over the threshold of his bedroom, the other still in the hallway.

“Time to go, Max.”

Max inhales sharply above his ear. Billy composes himself. He clears his throat and does his best to keep his voice steady.

“You heard her,” he mutters. “Get your ass outta here, lemme sleep this off.”

Abruptly, Max’s weight flops over his torso, arms squeezing. She’s hugging him. She’s hugging him and the pain is so bad it’s blinding. Billy traps a scream between his teeth, burns with shame as the tears spring to his eyes. He can’t bring himself to uncurl enough to push her off. He can’t bring himself to uncurl enough to hug her back.

“Germs,” he manages to grate out, hoping it’s enough.

Max’s arms unlatch and she climbs down from his bed. Billy’s head spins with reeling pain and nausea as she trots across his floor for the final time. She stands at her mother’s side, no longer his responsibility.

“Bye, Billy.” Max’s lips twitch in a sad smile, her hand raised in a halfhearted wave.

Susan steps aside to let her through and lingers for a heartbeat, frowning at him.

“I hope you feel better, Billy…”

“Your tea was bitter,” he gripes even though he hasn’t taken a single sip.

Susan’s eyes sharpen. She sees something, Billy isn’t sure what. Her lips part but he speaks first.

“Please get out.”

So he can cry. So he can scream. It hurts, he hurts. His stomach, his heart. It’s horrible, he’s horrible.

Susan bobs her head and obliges, making herself scarce. Billy hangs onto the sound of steps getting further away. He doesn’t let the tears fall until he hears the door close and then he’s smashing his face into his pillow to smother his sobs in cotton stuffing. Forces himself to stop because crying’s making it worse, much worse, his shoulders are hitching and moving is anguish.

Something is so very wrong.

Billy can’t even think around its wrongness. Last night the pain was sharpest in his side but right now it feels like his whole stomach is burning. He shifts even slightly and his stomach burns with white-hot pain but he’s so cold everywhere else.

Billy lies still and curled and quiet, impatiently waiting for it to get better. If he doesn’t move, it should get better. Curling like this helped last night and then this morning, the pain went away.

Will it go away again if he just keeps waiting?

He’s already waited so long.

Will it come back even worse?

Could it get worse?

That’s a stupid question, everything can get worse. If there is anything Billy has learned in his life, it’s that there’s no real rock bottom. It can always get worse.

That shove will turn into a slap. That slap will turn into a punch. That punch will multiply into many punches. The opposite arm will lock around your throat so those punches can keep pummeling the breath right out of you and the night you think you’re gonna punch back—

No such thing as bad as bad gets, no limits, maybe if he really is dying, it’s for the best. Maybe dying is the best goddamn thing that can happen to you in a world where invisible knives slicing into you and screams shriveling like dead leaves—

(everyone leaves, doesn’t matter if it’s autumn)

—behind your chattering teeth could very well be the least of your suffering. It hurts so bad he can barely breathe.

Billy forces himself out of bed anyway. He always gets up even when he doesn’t want to, but today he’s outstandingly bad at it. His organs must be pureed from all the silent stabs and his legs buckle under him. His hands fly out when he falters, ceramic mug knocked off his nightstand.

When the tea spills on him, it’s cold and Billy’s confused because it’s supposed to be hot tea. Then he’s confused at his own confusion because no fucking shit it’s cold now, it’s been out for hours.

How many hours?

When did Susan put the kettle on?

How long has Susan been gone, Max in tow?

It feels like an eternity but Neil isn’t home yet, so Billy knows that’s not true. He has no idea what time it is, but he knows he’d know if Neil was home. Neil makes his presence known. Neil doesn’t set foot in this house without immediately staking claim to everyone’s attention.

Everyone?

There is no everyone anymore. Just Billy and Neil now. Billy got out of bed with the intention of finding his keys. Driving himself to the hospital. Because it’s been hours, how many he isn’t sure, but enough of them to mean he needs to go to the hospital. Go to the zoo?

No, he— he can’t go to the hospital.

He could make himself get up. Demons slice their claws through his stomach with every chill that wracks his frame and garble their guttural taunts right into his ears but he could get up. He could but he won’t, he knows better.

If Billy goes to the hospital, they’re going to call Neil. It’s a small town. Someone will know who he is even if he pretends to be too out of it to say. Someone will know he belongs to Neil and then Neil will be called. Then Neil will find out even sooner that he’s been left, and he’ll get mad, and Billy doesn’t know what he’ll do with the anger but it won’t be good.

Max and Sue need as much time as they can get, as much distance between him and his dad as possible before he finds out. He’s going to find out but they got a head-start and Billy won’t sabotage that. It’s better for him too, in case Neil decides to turn the rage his way. Neil takes responsibility for jack shit, he might even decide it’s Billy’s fault they're gone, because he got left behind to blame.

Billy could make himself get up but he won’t. He just pulls the comforter off the bed and over himself on the floor. It’s so bad he could writhe but that too, would make it worse. He’s waiting to watch a demon claw its way out of his stomach, like that scene in that one movie he watched with Max.

It wasn’t the last movie he watched with Max. Billy doesn’t remember the last movie he watched with Max, the last movie he’ll ever watch with Max. He’s never going to see her again. If he dies here on the carpet, he supposes he’ll never see anyone again.

Crying about it won’t help. Crying doesn’t solve anything.

Something is making a horrible yowling sound. There’s a stray cat in the neighborhood, it must be right outside his bedroom window. Or else it got inside somehow, it sounds so close. Its cries sound so wretchedly human.

Billy isn’t a brother anymore, he has demons twisting their pitchforks in his stomach, he’s too cold to catch his breath, and his cheeks are very wet. He doesn’t have any time or energy to chase around a stray cat, to stop it from making a mess.

Billy does not die on the floor. When his father comes home at first his yells are angry and then his yells are fearful. He calls an ambulance and cradles Billy close until it comes.

Billy loses himself in the whirlwind of activity that follows. He gets poked and prodded and jabbed, and someone blessedly takes his pain away but Billy doesn’t know who because everyone’s faces blur until they all look the same. He has too many white blood cells and not enough hydration.

Dehydration, that’s deja vu. But it’s not Susan talking about dehydration this time even though he wishes it was. He wishes it was?

Yes. No. She needed to get out. Max needed to get out. Billy has too many white blood cells and not enough hydration, and his fever’s so high they might as well bake cookies on him and— and if his mother were here, she would like that one, yeah, he definitely got his dry wit from her. Sardonic snark is right up Mom’s alley. But she had to get out too, everyone has to get out.

Except Billy. He’s fine. Well, he’s not fine, apparently he needs surgery, but he doesn’t need to escape. One day he will, but he doesn’t need to. It’s not a necessity. No matter what Max saw That Night he doesn’t remember, Neil would never kill him.

Neil would never, ever kill him. Billy is his only legacy. Piss poor legacy from Neil’s standpoint, sure, he’ll never let him forget it. But nonetheless, it’s the only one he’s got. Billy may blow his brains out when he gets bored of his twenties (if he even makes it that far) just to spite the bastard because he doesn’t want to be his good-for-nothing piece of shit legacy, he never asked for that.

But now is not the time to begrudge all he didn’t ask for, now is the time to count backwards.

“Dad?” Billy calls into the quiet nighttime of the room, blinking fuzzily at the figure slumped in the chair beside his bed. His throat feels like sandpaper, he swallows with an effort and tries again. “Dad?”

Neil stirs this time, eyes brightening, alert on Billy. “I’m here. Do you need something?”

Billy pauses. “M’sick, right?”

“Sure as shit you’re sick,” Neil huffs, eyes narrowing. “Almost lost all three of you in the same day.”

The words bounce around Billy’s skull.

“Susan left me,” Neil continues slowly, anger shimmering like hot coals underneath the veil of weariness. “All her stuff is gone, she took Max too. I don’t expect you knew anything about that?”

“No, sir,” Billy denies. “I thought they went shopping.”

“No. They certainly didn’t go shopping. They cleared out and left us behind. No explanation, no letter, not even a note.”

So it’s ‘us’ now, huh?

Billy widens his eyes, does his best to seem surprised as he attempts to sit up. Then he really is surprised, first at how awful of an idea that is, and then at realizing the blanket covering his hospital bed is one from home. One of Neil’s, fleecy and worn.

“Grabbed a few things from home. Needed something to do to keep my mind busy. You were on the operating table twice as long as they told me you were gonna be, Bill. Scared the hell out of me.”

“…why?”

“I’m told your appendix ruptured before they opened you up and that complicated things…you’re gonna be here for a little while, bud.” Neil gently rubs his shoulder. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

He answered the wrong question. Billy wasn’t asking why it took longer, he was asking why Neil was scared. But he doesn’t correct him. He swallows and hopes Max and Susan are safe. He wonders just what time they got to wherever they were going. Susan never shared the location or ever alluded to the distance from Hawkins. He hopes there were no mishaps along the way, no flat tires or fender-benders, or murderous traffic in backed up lanes.

“Not a baby,” he mutters. “Not gonna bitch about a stupid stomachache.”

At that, his father raises a brow. He gives a shake of the head and his hand leaves Billy’s shoulder. He makes a low noise in his throat that almost sounds like approval and covers Billy’s forehead with his hand. The heel of his palm is calloused and Billy knows he’s been hitting the bottle when the unmistakable scent of warm beer wafts over his nostrils.

“Well, it’s just us now, tough guy. You need to speak up if something’s really wrong, capeesh?”

He said it again. Us. They’re an us once more. Billy tiredly lifts his hand, bracing his elbow on the mattress to give his father’s forearm a squeeze.

“Yes, sir.”

[cabinofimagines]

In the end, cleaning wins.

Percy x gn!reader

Summary: Percy and Y/n are trying their best to be adults. Between work, school, being a demigod, and keeping up the apartment, something or someone was bound to snap.

A/N: Bro I’m always so bad at writing fight scenes since I’m such a peacekeeper lmao. I try to avoid conflict often so rip if this isn’t good.

-Day

_______________________________________

Being an adult is exhausting. 

No seriously, it is. Percy hadn’t slept in over 26 hours at the fault of his new job at the aquarium. It held unusually odd hours, the only upside being a nice pay and working with sea creatures. He loved it, but the position and people he had to work with were obnoxious in many ways.

He stayed up all night trying to cram for a chem exam coming up, but he would’ve slept an hour at least if he’d known the bullshit coming his way. He left home yesterday morning for his bio lecture where he zoned out for 2 out of the 3 hours. Unfortunately, homework was assigned based on the day’s lecture. Amazing. Then, he was called into work directly after because the opening manager flaked out. Also amazing.

The school was across town from the aquarium so he figured he could catch some sleep on the subway, but before he even boarded, a group of dracaena ambushed him. He took off running, hoping that maybe he could lose them instead of having to fight. If he fought in this sluggish state then he’d probably screw up and shish kebab himself.

 He could probably just run to the aquarium from here, take a few back alleys and shake off the slithering psychos. He turned to check if they were still following and to his surprise, they were right on his heels. Pretty fast for creatures with no legs. Or would having the ability to just… glide be faster? Like being on skateboard?

Now really wasn’t the time to be thinking of dracaena with skateboard bodies.

He turned sharply and took the fire escape three steps at a time. He wasn’t sure where this was going, but he was fairly certain that in the prospect of jumping buildings, the person with legs had the upper hand. He could hear the dracaena hissing out things like “get back here, sssson of the sssssea god” or “come here, child”. How the Hades are they still behind him?

He saw the edge of the building approaching and realized that maybe it was a little too far of a jump. But he was already flying over the gap and praying that his ankles don’t snap like twigs when he lands. 

Luckily, he made it. He hit the ledge with his chest, his arms pulling him up. He scrambled to his feet, ready to turn and fight if that jump didn’t shake them. Turns out that it did work, because he’d the pleasure of seeing the failed attempt of the hissing heathers falling one by one into the gap between the buildings. He heard them yelp out curses on the way down, but wasn’t sure if they combusted into dust or not. 

He decided to roof hop for most of the way to work, one because it was a little faster this way and because he had less of a chance to run into bored monsters. Man, he was glad that he didn’t have a manager to answer to this time, they’d probably just be glad he showed up.

---

Percy prided himself on being a pretty chill person both at work and on the regular. However, there wasn’t a day that passed where he wondered if he should just hop in one of the tanks and pretend to be a fish. The sea otters seem pretty stress-free.

He was exhausted and running on energy drinks he’d bought from the gas station a little ways from work. What was supposed to be a 6-hour shift on his one day off turned into him working from 11:30 am to midnight after the evening manager decided to leave early. Percy was never one to complain when others went home before him, in fact, he usually chooses to go last unless he has homework due at 11:59. But when Cooper decided Percy could handle closing the aquarium by himself, he lost it. 

He took the last bus home, thankfully, his trip home was quieter than his trip to work. He sat in the back, head tilted toward the window as he tried to calm the headache that tortured him. He was pretty sure that Y/n would be asleep by now, they had an early morning and he didn’t expect them to wait up for him… but tonight, he really hoped they did.

The promise that Y/n would be there, asleep or not, was comforting enough to him. He wanted nothing more than wordless cuddles and a deep sleep right now. 

----

Walking through the building door he noticed the hall light was off– correction, it was blown. No biggie, Percy had found his way in the dark multiple times, but the stairs seemed to be a different story. He tried so hard to be quiet on the way upstairs, but he managed to trip over the ledge. He swore quietly, fumbling for the railing and hoping his neighbor was dead asleep.

Ronnie often threw fits over the amount of noise the couple made, even if it wasn’t much of a ruckus, Ronnie always claimed that his keen ears could hear everything. He still hadn’t forgiven Percy for the quip he made about maybe turning his hearing aids down, but he will. Hopefully.

Somehow he made it to the apartment door in one piece fumbling for his keys and unlocking the door. He took note of the darkened place and figured that maybe Y/n really did go to bed. It’s alright, Percy was ready to crash and catch a few hours of sleep.

But the lamp was on in their bedroom and the door was cracked open still, so… are you up?

Percy kicked off his shoes and dropped his book bag by the door, trudging over to the bedroom and nudging the door open. Sitting upright in the bed sat Y/n reading a book he’d bought for your birthday. Percy smiled, you looked so cute bundled up in his old uni t-shirt. 

Your eyes shifted to him, crinkling with happiness, “You’re back?” You didn’t move though, clearly comfortable under the heavy duvet. 

He nodded with a small smile, moving over to your side of the bed and placing a quick kiss on your forehead, “I’m gonna take a shower and grab something to eat, you go ahead and get some rest.”

After he turned to leave you heaved a sigh, not sure how to bring this up when he’s as tired as he is. Maybe this could wait until tomorrow? Then he’d be less tired and maybe… no, you already put this off long enough. He’ll be tired regardless of when it’s brought up, might as well get it over with.

So you sat there, not really even reading the words on the page anymore, your thoughts wandering from the universe the author had written about. It really shouldn’t have been this nerve-wracking. It’s a basic thing that needs to be done in every house and you were getting tired of doing it every single time.

Cabinets shutting brought your attention back to the present. Reluctantly, you pushed the duvet back and shuffled towards the kitchen, Percy eating a PB&J sandwich coming into view. He looked like a little kid, leaning against the counter in his black sweatpants and a graphic tee, munching on a small sandwich he made. You grinned and leaned beside him, ignoring the confused glances he gave.

“You miss me that much?” He joked, mouth full of food.

You snorted and looked down, something you tended to do when you got nervous. He seemed in a good mood despite whatever may had happened today, so it’s now or never.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” you mumbled, “And I know you’re tired but I feel like this is only going to get worse if we don’t talk about it now.”

Percy blinked and continued to eat, his silence a cue to continue. He didn’t really want to talk about anything right now, he just wanted to eat his sandwich and go to bed. But it seemed important so he figured he’d survive a little longer.

You studied your sock-clad feet closely, “I know we’re both really busy and it’s hard to find time for certain things like time with each other, time to study, or cleaning. But it’s something we have to find time for, y’know?”

Percy hummed, “I can ask off on Saturday if you want? We can spend the day together, we haven’t had a whole day in a while.”

You gave a small smile because while that is a concern, that’s not what you were talking about. You won’t say no though. You stole a glance at him, “I have missed being with you, I guess.”

“You guess?” Percy said a little louder, poking your stomach teasingly, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You chuckled, swatting his hand away, “Be quiet! Ronnie will be at our door in a second, you know that.” Just do it, he’s in a good mood! “I was actually talking about the cleaning…”

At that, Percy took a look around. The dishes weren’t overflowing and the laundry wasn’t piling up, it didn’t look like something needed to be addressed. He finished the last of his sandwich, “Okay? What needs to be done?”

“Well between the two of us there is hardly any time to do anything else right? Well, it feels like I’m the only one taking care of the place-”

“But I do take care of the place,” He interrupted, “I pay the bills and I pick up after myself so-”

“But you don’t.” You spoke exasperated, “You don’t always pick up after yourself. Look, you left the bread and the PB&J out!” A fight isn’t what you wanted so you tried to approach it a different way. You took a deep breath, “...I understand you’re busy, I am too. I just want you to make a conscious effort to put things away where they belong.”

He scoffed, a disbelieving smile on his face, “I’m not a kid anymore, Y/n. I know how to clean up after myself, my mom made sure of that.”

“Then why don’t you? You used to be really good about helping me out–”

“I’m exhausted Y/n, what do you want me to do?!” 

“Fucking help me, that’s what!”

It went quiet, staring the other down and wondering who would back down first. It was silly honestly, but you were tired of picking up the slack. The work in the apartment used to be equal but lately its looking a lot like you do 88% and Percy does 12%.

You relented, huffing and shaking your head, “Okay then.” You turned on your heel, going over to the front door and putting your shoes on along with a jacket. You needed to calm down, a little fresh air to maybe come up with a different way of approaching this. 

The convenience store across the road might still be open. You could grab one of those bottled iced coffees for tomorrow morning, maybe a small snack too. Hopefully the small errand would be long enough for you to think of another approach. Maybe one where Percy was less of an ass, or less tired, whichever one really.

Percy followed you around to the door, his crossed arms dropping to his sides when he noticed what you were doing. He furrowed his brows, “Where are you going? It’s past midnight.”

“I’m well aware of the time, Perseus.” You hissed, “I’m going out to grab a few things.”

He shook his head, his black hair still wet from the shower, “You can wait until morning for that, come on!” he spoke lowly as he approached you, “let’s just get some rest...”

You pulled from his reach and twisted the door knob open, walking out without another word. You closed it behind you and padded over to the stairs, hopping down the unlit steps like you normally did. 

Unluckily, your foot narrowly missed the next step and without the light to see where you could potentially catch yourself, you fell. Yep, you hit every step on the way down. If Ronnie hadn’t heard the argument you just had, he had to have heard your swears as your body fumbled down to the 1st floor.

Percy flung the door open, the light from your apartment lighting up the dark stairwell. His footsteps thundered down the stairs and there he sat in front of you, words flying out of his mouth so fast that you didn’t even know what he was saying. The fall caught you so off guard that you weren’t sure what was happening right now.

Ronnie threw his door open, profanities slipping out his mouth at the noise, “And this is why I never rent to young couples!” He shouted, but the threat of his words were tame without his dentures to help him spit it out. He turned his head to the bottom of the stairs where Percy leaned over your confused figure, fumbling over his words and oblivious to Ronnie.

“Well shit...” Ronnie muttered, backing back into his apartment quietly.

You snapped out of your daze, noticing how much your ankle actually hurt. Okay you’ve definitely dealt with worse, but the pain was still annoying. You started to push yourself off the steps and into a standing position, using the railing to steady yourself on your good foot.

Percy’s hands slid up your body, settling on your waist and attempting to help you back up the stairs. He kept his mouth shut on the way into the apartment, knowing that you’re probably even more irritated now.

Once you were sat comfortably on the couch, he rushed off to grab a bag of frozen peas to put on your ankle to stop the swelling. You did appreciate the thought, but you were not dealing with this any longer than you had to.

“Percy, there’s some ambrosia in my dresser, bottom drawer on the left.” 

He blinked and wandered off to the bedroom, shuffling through your stuff before muttering, “It’s not even in here.” He spent a couple of more minutes looking around for the Ziploc bag you had, but clearly wasn’t really looking.

You hauled yourself off the couch, chuckling and shaking your head at his antics. Hobbling into the room you saw that he was looking in the night stand, not the dresser like you told him to. No wonder he couldn’t find it. 

“Kelp head, I said the dresser not the night stand.” You laughed, limping over to the dresser and lcoating the bits of ambrosia. Percy was by your side in an instant, leading you back towards the bed and helping you situate yourself there comfortably. You said nothing as you opened the bag and nibbled on one of the pieces, a warm feeling washing over you.

You could feel the pain in your ankle easing off slowly and hopefully it would only be a little sore by morning. Percy took the bag from your hands and set it aside wordlessly, he muttered something about closing the front door before leaving the room.

You could tell he felt awkward about what just happened and he probably felt a little guilty about the argument you just had, even if it wasn’t all that serious. The two of you have had worse fights about worse things, but this is the first time in a while. It was bound to happen.

He came back in right as you shifted under the blankets, turning the light off and slipping underneath with you. He didn’t snuggle up to you right away, waiting to see if you were still pissed at him, but you didn’t make a move to kick him out the bed.

“I’m sorry for being such a dick, Y/n.” He whispered, “I didn’t know how much it bothered you and I’ll try to clean more often. I swear.” 

Nothing was said, for a moment, Percy thought you’d fallen asleep, but you turned slowly to face him, eyes scanning his face in the dim light from the window. You brought a hand up to his face and traced his jawline gently, “That’s all I wanted you to do, stupid.”

He huffed and inched closer to nuzzle your nose with his, “And all it took was a sprained ankle for me to figure that out.”

You laughed and knocked your forehead against his, “It’s my fault for being so deadset on grabbing coffee for tomorrow morning. I should’ve just gone to bed.”

“Do you want coffee now? I can go grab it–”

“No, I’m not getting up tomorrow. Go to sleep, fish brain.”

[weathergirl8]

Master of Deflection - Part 2

This is for you @ak47stylegirl and anyone else who enjoys Alan whump/smothering. Of course, there will be some extra Virgil in there too, because I just love the big guy.

As a friendly reminder, I originally came from the TOS and TB 2004 era. I’ve tried to write a few TAG point of views, but my comfort zone is the previous. This will take place with Gordon as the redhead, and I’ve always had Virgil as the middle bro. Sorry!

Summary: Being the youngest of five is always hard, especially when they pounce at the slightest hair out of line. Sometimes the art of deflection can sting.

Part 1 | Part 2

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A fuzzy feeling was the first sensation he felt as consciousness welcomed him. Turning to look at the clock on his nightstand, Alan sighed as 8:00 glared back at him. Throwing his back against his bed, the teen groaned quietly. He felt like he had just fallen asleep.

Forcing himself up, Alan sniffled as he noticed his nose was a little runny and his throat felt a little scratchy. Reaching for a tissue, he blew his nose without a second thought. “Maybe my morning run will help clear this fog,” he whispered to himself and quickly dressed into his running clothes.

Alan entered the kitchen and smiled at his father. “Hey, Dad.”

“Morning, Alan,” Jeff greeted as he took a drink of his coffee. “Late night last night. I’m surprised to see you up. I think you’ve beaten all of your brothers.”

“Wow. Been ages since I’ve beaten Scott up,” Alan said as he grabbed a bottle of orange juice and a breakfast bar. “I slept straight through and wanted to catch a run. I’m sure they’ll be down by the time I get back.”

“Well, John said things are quiet,” Jeff smiled. “I think you’re safe to enjoy your run without interruption, son.”

“Thanks, Dad. See you in a bit,” Alan nodded as he took one last bite of his bar.

Jeff watched as Alan made his way down the deck, vanishing into the trees along the path that led to the beach. He smiled as he allowed memories of nostalgia to fill him. Where had the time gone?

“What’s got you so happy this morning, Dad?”

Jeff turned to see his second youngest before him. “Just your younger brother continues to surprise me.”

“What’d the squirt do this time?” Gordon asked curiously as he took a drink.

“Nothing worth sharing,” Jeff sighed. “Going for a swim?” he asked as he noted the redhead’s attire.

“Of course,” Gordon beamed as he slung his towel over his shoulder. “Best physio after such a tough rescue yesterday.”

“You feeling okay, otherwise?” Jeff asked worriedly.

“Back is fine, Dad. I promise. A little stiff, but nothing to worry about. The pool always does the trick,” Gordon winked and headed for the pool. “Headed to the office?” the redhead paused at the door.

“Yes,” Jeff said. “John and I are going to go over the rescue last night. It was a straight forward mission, so I don’t think it’ll be necessary to have everyone there this time. Let you boys unwind a little while we can.”

“Thanks, Dad. We appreciate it. See you later,” Gordon smiled and headed to the pool.

Jeff chuckled at Gordon before heading up the stairs to call John. The plan was to talk about the mission, but the patriarch hoped to let John unwind as well. He knew just the topic to do so.

-TB-

Alan jogged along the sand, each step feeling weighted as he pushed himself toward the next mile. The blonde reduced to a walk as he slowed his breathing. He allowed his mind to wander as he watched the waves crash along the cliffside near the north side of the beach.

Taking a seat in the warm sand, Alan sighed. Apparently, today was going to be a struggle. Running was not proving to be the stress relief that usually worked for him. Today he felt off. His body felt sluggish and tired. Usually, the morning air he inhaled from his runs would wake him up.

Not today.

Placing his head in his hands, he groaned. The sensation made him realize his head was beginning to pound. All the feelings of an incoming headache becoming clear.

“I guess a run isn’t in the cards either.”

Forcing himself up from the sand, Alan made his way back toward the villa. He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping it would help ease the tension he was feeling but felt no relief. All the blonde wanted was meds and his bed again. The first thing he had to do was avoid his nosey older brothers.

“Hey!”

Alan jumped as he turned to see Gordon climbing out of the pool, the jolt sending a small pulse through his head.

“Hey, are you okay?” the swimmer’s concerned voice asked as he got closer.

“I’m fine, Gordon. Just a headache. Once I take something, it’ll go away.”

Gordon eyed Alan with uncertainly. “Are you sure? You look tired and a little pale.”

“Don’t we all,” Alan joked. “It was a late night.”

“Point taken, little brother. Go get something for that head before the smother hens descend.”

“If you need me, I’ll be hiding in my room,” Alan said but looked around cautiously. “That’s between you and me. I don’t need them hunting me down.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Gordon saluted. “I’ll check on you later.”

“Thanks, Gordo,” Alan replied in appreciation and made his way back into the house. He quietly skirted past his father’s office, where he could hear the voices of his father, Scott, John, and Virgil.

Pushing his door open, he quietly shut it and took in a sigh of relief. The eighteen-year-old couldn’t help but chuckle at himself. He felt like he was ten again sneaking food from the kitchen.

His head pounded once more, quickly reminding him why he needed to be so stealthy. Alan walked into his bathroom and opened a storage drawer. His blue eyes immediately latching onto the meds he needed, ever thankful he had a stash for such occasions.

Grabbing a couple of the pills, he made his way to his nightstand as he opened a new water bottle. Downing the drugs and several gulps of water, Alan laid back on his bed, allowing his eyes to close for a few seconds…. Just a few….

“Alan!” somebody shook him.

Alan opened his groggy eyes, puzzled. “Alan?” Scott called, concerned. Where had Scott come from?

Scott placed a soothing arm along Alan’s shoulder. “Allie, you with me?”

“Scott, what?” Alan asked, confused. He just closed his eyes, hadn’t he?

“Hey, buddy,” Scott smiled, but the worry was visible across his features. “You missed lunch. Gordon said you had a headache and to leave you be, but it’s not like you to sleep the day away. Are you feeling okay?”

Alan slowly pushed himself up from his bed and leaned against his headboard. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’m okay.”

Scott watched him suspiciously. “I don’t know, Allie. You look kind of pale. Maybe Virgil should check you o-“

The emergency klaxon blared across their watches and the house, immediately stealing the words from Scott’s mouth.

Scott stood but looked back at his baby brother with concern once more as the teen moved slowly from the bed. “Alan, maybe you should sit this one out.”

“I’m fine, Scott,” Alan said, shoving his eldest brother out of the way and rushing toward command and control.

“Alan….” Scott continued behind him.

“Scott, I’m fine! I’m only tired from our late night, and my headache caught me off guard. I’m good now,” Alan uttered in frustration. “Just drop it, okay.”

“Alright, but if you start feeling unwell, you better say something,” Scott ordered as they entered the command room.

Alan’s only response was a dangerous glare toward his oldest sibling.

“What do we have, John?” Jeff asked as he met his second eldest’s image before him.

“Northwest Passage just north of Alaska. A cargo ship carrying metallurgical coal has run into trouble. Coast Guard is unable to assist due to another ship underrun,” John reported.

“Is Thunderbird 4 needed?”

“Affirmative, but it is rough seas as an early winter storm has ravaged the area. They’re hoping we can repair the ship,” John added, a layer of annoyance seeping through his voice. “I explained we are more interested in human lives than the precious cargo.”

Jeff smirked in understanding. “F.A.B. Notify the crew we are on our way. Alan and Gordon, you’re with Virgil, and I’m riding with you boys this time. This mission looks like it will require all hands on deck.”

“F.A.B,” his sons each echoed.

Nodding to Brains, Jeff stood inside his portrait. “Thunderbirds Are Go!”

-TB-

Thunderbird 4 dipped into the rocky water with ease. The yellow sub was heading straight for the penetrated ship’s underbelly. “What do you see Thunderbird Four?” Jeff’s voice spoke in Gordon’s ear. Gordon had been sent to investigate the ship's damage while Virgil and Alan went aboard the vessel to persuade the workers onto the rescue platform.

Gordon whistled as his ‘bird’s light illuminated the damage. A large, jagged hole stretched at least a foot of the ship’s belly. “I’m good, but not that good, Thunderbird Two. The damage is too extensive. She’s a lost cause.”

“F.A.B. John notify the Captain it’s time to abandon the ship. Scott, see if you can help steady the ship with a line and coordinate with John. Virgil, Alan, get those workers aboard before she sinks,” Jeff ordered. “Gordon, see if you can help slow the process. Any time you can buy us will be an immense help.”

“F.A.B, Thunderbird 2,” Gordon responded and began analyzing his situation. This was going to be fun...

-TB-

“Sir, I understand your frustration, but there is nothing more we can do for your ship. You must disembark. Your ship will sink,” John explained, trying to hold in his frustration.

“That is unacceptable!” Captain Sterns yelled. “You’re International Rescue. You’re supposed to be able to do anything!”

John looked pointedly at the image of his older brother to the left of him. When the man refused to accept John’s words, the field commander joined the line providing support for his space-bound brother. “We appreciate that sentiment, Captain, but even we have our limits,” Scott responded, taking a deep breath.

“I have a shipment full of coal that my boss is expecting to arrive in Europe. What am I supposed to tell him? I can’t just leave it!”

“I’m afraid that’s exactly what you’re going to have to do. Your crew’s lives are more important,” Scott demanded.

“I can’t!” the Captain’s voice shouted across the line once more. “I’ll be fired!”

“We can’t work miracles!” Scott screamed back.

“Scott!” John admonished. “Captain Sterns, with all due respect, you are running out of time. Our operative in Thunderbird Four is currently trying to give us more time, but even that won’t be much. You must get your men off that ship now! For the sake of their lives and our operatives who are risking their lives to save yours. You must see reason in that.”

“You called us for help,” Scott added, finding his calm. “Please let us do our job.”

The Captain remained silent on the line before emitting a long sigh. “Fine, we will leave.”

“Thank you, Captain,” John acknowledged. “We will begin to load your men aboard our craft immediately. Please make your way to the deck now. Our operatives will be waiting for you.”

“Understood,” Captain Sterns responded and closed the line.

John quickly turned back to the image of his older brother before him. “What the hell, Scott! What was that?”

“I’m sorry, John. I shouldn’t have lost it like that.”

“You’re just lucky Dad wasn’t on the line,” John said, shaking his head. “I better report to him. I’ll be sure to keep your incident out of the conversation.”

Scott nodded in appreciation. “Thanks, John.”

“You owe me,” the blonde exhaled.

“I know. Just add it to my list.”

-TB-

Alan helped Virgil load another round onto the rescue platform as a burst of cold water surrounded them. “Go! I’ll stay down here with them,” he yelled across the com as the boat swayed side to side.

Virgil hesitated but nodded as he shut the door to the platform and initiated the mechanism that rose them into the belly of Thunderbird 2. Once aboard the green Thunderbird, Virgil led them to the safety of the cargo hold. He provided thermal blankets to those who needed them before heading back to the platform for what he hoped was the last round of crew members.

The sea was anything but a friend right now. Fierce northerly crisp winds sliced across the area, each new gust rocking the doomed ship at a sickening pace. Each minute the engineer could tell the ship was sinking lower and lower into the ocean.

Heading back down the platform, he watched Alan as he helped a crew member up who had fallen on the floor deck as another wave violently splashed aboard. Fifteen crew members were remaining, including the somewhat disgruntled Captain.

The rescue platform came to a halt. Virgil opened the door and nodded to Alan. “Alright, let’s get the last of you on here, and we’ll have you warm and secure.”

Most of the crew members were agreeable. They were cold and tired and ready to be anywhere else. Captain Sterns, however, continued to hope they could help him transport part of his shipment.

“Sir, we must go.” Virgil heard Alan tell the older man, who reluctantly climbed aboard the platform. Virgil patted Alan along the back as he helped his baby brother into the platform and lifted them toward Thunderbird 2.

“You’re soaked, kiddo,” Virgil said, nudging his little brother.

“Yea,” Alan sighed as he noticed the water collecting around his boots. “You’re not much better.”

“We’ll have to change once we have the passengers secured,” Virgil realized. “Don’t need either one of us catching a cold, huh?”

Alan smiled but didn’t respond as the bay door sealed below them. Stepping forward, the youngest Tracy opened the gate to the platform and helped escort the remaining crew to the holding area while Virgil informed their father they were secure.

Captain Sterns grabbed his arm as the teen prepared to head toward his brother. “Kid, there’s plenty of room to store a few loads of my shipment. It’ll only take us a few minutes to load it onto your platform. It’ll be easy, I promise.”

Alan shook his head, trying to hide his dislike for the man. The guy didn’t know how to take no for an answer. “Sir, we can’t do that. Now, please just take a seat, and we’ll arrive in Prudhoe Bay in no time.”

Captain Sterns clenched his fists in anger and reached inside his jacket. Before Alan knew it, he felt the cold metal of a gun forced against his back, as the Captain grabbed his left arm forcefully. “We aren’t leaving without it. My life depends on it and now so does yours.”

TBC…

[toloveawarlord]

Black Army Mischief Maker (Ch. 4)

You can find my masterlist in my bio!

Characters: Finley Godspeed, Sirius Oswald, Ray Blackwell, Kyle Ash, Fenrir Godspeed, Dalim Tweedle

Tagging: @plumpblueberry​ @christmaswarlock​ @starry-starry-night24​ @youreawizardharr​ @thetwinkims​

A/N: Finley is back!

No sooner had the mysterious new woman arrived, she was gone. A soldier reported that Alice had been detained by the Red Army. The young Godspeed sported a frown as she tilted the watering can forward to dampen the soil of the plants.

“You’ll drown that poor tulip.” Sirius’s voice snapped the girl out of daze. He smiled softly as she yanked the can upright and bent down to spread around the sopping soil. “What’s with that disappointed expression?”

Finley lifted her mud-caked hand and wiggled her fingers to let drops of the dirt fall. A whine passed her lips. “It’s not fair. Alice only just got here and now she’s gone. We had a big party and everything. The Red Army shouldn’t have stolen her away with their fancy foods that are hard to pronounce and my adorable Eden.”

The Queen of Spades chuckled at her. It came as no surprise that she brought in the Jack of Heart’s daughter to the conversation. She was quite smitten with the little lady. “We’ll get her back here where she belongs.” Who knew what kind of danger awaited Alice at the hands of the proud Red Army?

“Hey, Fin, wanna tag along to the hideout?” Ray asked, not sporting his usual army attire. He’d been watching her out of the office window with that sad expression on her features. A trip out would be good for the both of them.

Finley held her hands out to Sirius, letting him pour water from the can to clean them. “Yeah, I wanna go. It might make me feel better.” Her sluggish steps showing how down she was. “Whoa-”

Ray spun her around before plucking the girl up and placing her on his shoulders. Her hands settled on his head, lacing through raven locks. “I know you’re upset about Alice, but we’ll see her again really soon.”

His words didn’t lift her mood. The whole walk to Central Quarter was in a comfortable silence. She needed some time to process all those emotions. In the alley, all the cats were waiting.

“They’re so soft... like Alice.” Finley sighed heavily, practically covered in cats. They all vied for her attention, purring and meowing as they rubbed against her body when her hands were occupied.

It wasn’t strange for the young Godspeed to get attached to someone so quickly, but this was something else entirely. Maybe a little bit of jealousy that she didn’t understand as such. “How about we go eat our feelings?” Ray suggested, patting her on the head as he cradled a white cat in his arms.

“Okay!” Finley jumped up, startling the cats that scattered in various directions.

The pair went to every cafe and food stall that they could, snacking on savory and sweet items, drinking more hot chocolate than one should in a single outing. A stall owner called to Ray, having a complaint that he believed only the King of Spades could remedy.

To the girl, it seemed like it would take a while... long enough to visit one nearby building.

When the sun went down, this establishment got quite lively. Finley didn’t sneak in here often, unless it was before opening, but on occasion, she disregarded all the rules. Eyes followed her, some already intoxicated enough that they believed they must be hallucinating.

A towel fell over her head. “You can’t be here, kid.”

“Hey!” Finley protested, balling it up and tossing it back to Dum, who leaned over the counter to catch it. “Is Kyle here yet?”

The bar owner found it odd that she’d come here in search of the Red Army doctor, but he noted that she wasn’t as perky as usual. “If I show you where he is, will you leave?” He didn’t mind her visits, but not when he had patrons, many of whom were uncomfortable with a child in the building.

“I promise! I just need to see him.” 

It must be important, he imagined. Normally, she’d be playful and be begging for free food. Leaving the bar counter, he made a path through the crowd to a table near the back. “You have a visitor.” At least the good doctor wasn’t totally drunk yet. “Five minutes and then you’re out, kid.”

“You’re the Ace of Spades daughter, uh, Finley, right?” Kyle had bumped into her a hand full of times with a certain Cheshire Cat, and Eden talked about her often when she was in the infirmary.

“Yeah, I am.” Awkwardly, the girl climbed onto the stool beside him and managed not to fall off. He’d treated her a few times for scrapes and bruises, but she always knew he worked for the army. “Does Alice really want to stay away from us?”

What a question. He couldn’t possibly give her the real reason, otherwise it would undo Lancelot’s plan. Plus, he wasn’t sure how she would react. “I think Alice is going to... uh-- help us-- with some stuff.” He struggled to put a coherent sentence together.

“Oh.”

Kyle internally groaned at her pitiful expression. He was not good with upset kids, always throwing them back to their parent to deal with the crying and the moodiness. Downing a gulp of beer to calm his nerves, he thankfully didn’t have to continue to lie to her.

“Hey, bug. It’s time to go home,” Fenrir said, accompanied by Kyle’s typical drinking buddies. He crouched by the stool, brushing his hand through her short hair.

“Okay.” She didn’t argue, climbing down and taking her dad’s hand. They only made it a few steps when she stopped, turning back to the Seven of Hearts. “Tell Alice I miss her, and... she has to come visit soon.”

After he’d agreed, the pair left the bar and returned to headquarters. Bathed and dressed in her pajamas, Finley sat on Fenrir’s bed, absentmindedly petting ShuShu and humming a lullaby.

“Ya gonna sleep with me, bug?” He chuckled as her body rocked slightly as she fought falling asleep. Although she hadn’t done a lot today, he imagined her disappointment of Alice leaving had taken a toll on her. Even the girl knew something about it wasn’t right, but she couldn’t figure out what.

But no one would tell her. War with Reds hadn’t been announced yet, and it would only upset her more. Finley could befriend anyone, and she adored many of the Red Army officers.

Finley wiggled under the covers until she’d successfully cuddled up against him, rubbing her forehead against his chest. “Why did Alice leave without saying goodbye?”

“I heard that she ran into some trouble and the Jack of Hearts helped her out. She didn’t have time to come back with the bad men after her. I’m sure she’ll write ya a letter when she gets settled.” Fenrir knew that she wouldn’t get one. It’d be unlikely that any correspondence from Alice would actually be from her.

“But Ray promised that we’d protect her.”

Fenrir rubbed her back, soothing her to fall asleep. He wished he had an answer that she would understand, but that would require breaking her fantasies about the Red Army.

But with war already declared, it was only a matter of time.

[the-evil-authoress]

GX Month Day 29: “Don’t Forget Me!”

Have an underappreciated character you wish you’d seen more of? Give them some love today!

Not exactly underappreciated via the fandom, but it will never not piss me off that Jesse disappeared for half the f*ucking season. He got damseled. HE GOT F*UCKING DAMSELED. Then he shows up for - what? - three episodes in season 4 AND GETS DAMSELED AGAIN.

I’m running out steam and easy to write ideas or I’d write about someone else, I promise. Maybe next year.

Set right after Rainbow Dragon sends Duel Academy back to the island.

The back of Jesse’s head slams against an uneven wall, sparks flaring beneath his eyelids. Amethyst snarls and the clawed hand leaves his throat, and Jesse collapses forward with a gasp. Is he bleeding? Doesn’t feel like it. Where are they? It’s so dark. Brilliant flashes of color light up the stone cavern as screams echo in his ears; Jesse jerks his head up and catches sight of the giant gemstones in the fading light. Okay, that’s fine, they’re still with him-

The crystals shatter before his eyes.

Breath stuck to his throat, he stumbles up. “What did you do to them?!”

His head slams against the wall once more before he’s even got his feet under him. Choking, he paws uselessly at the claws around his neck as black dots dance across his vision.

“Judai is mine!” the duel monster screams. “Mine!”

“Who-?” Jesse rasps.

“You think because you call him by a different name you lay claim to him?! How many names have I called him? He is mine! My Darkness!”

“What?”

His ears are ringing, his vision wavers, he can barely breath the claws digging holes in his throat, and he can’t feel his family. The space of his awareness where their light usually shines is a gaping dead zone and- what if they’re dead? No they can’t be dead they’re spirits! But even spirits can die, he watched one die right in front of him-

Something hard and sharp hits him across the face and sends the world spinning as he careens sideways. Jesse heaves in a breath as he hits the floor.

“I’m the one you should be paying attention to!” Yubel screeches, and as Jesse squints up at her - him? - through wavering vision, he swears he’s seen the duel monster somewhere before. “I’ve worked too long to reunite with Judai! I won’t let you take him away from me!”

Who the fuck is-- Does she mean Jaden? ‘Judai’?? Worry about it later.

Pushing himself up on shaky arms, Jesse braces himself against the wall and shuts his eyes against the throbbing headache. The room - cave? - still feels like it’s spinning. “What do you want from me?” His voice cracks as he looks up at the duel monster again. There’s a part of him, a small part, that’s terrified she’s going to kill him. And honestly? He expected Yubel to kill him. He hadn’t expected to face death completely alone.

They aren’t dead, they aren’t!

Yubel bares her fangs in an action that could either be a smile or a snarl. “I’m going to use you as bait.”

“What?” The breath leaves his lungs as something cold lodges into the pit of his stomach. Somehow that one sentence is more terrifying than the prospect of a lonely death. 

“He may have forsaken me, but he’ll come back for you.” Yubel’s eyes glow menacingly in the dark room. “He loves you after all.”

Jesse almost laughs, the hysteric sound bubbling behind his lips. “Listen here, I don’t know what kind of ridiculous idea you’ve got in your head but things between Jay and I definitely ain’t like that.”

Yubel’s eyes flash. “There is more than one kind of love, foolish light child!”

“Fair enough.” Jesse isn’t going to waste his last breath arguing with a psychotic demon. If he’d ever imagined his eventual death, this wouldn’t have been high on the list. Leaning his head back again, he tries to decide if closing his eyes makes the spinning feel better or worse. He feels it then, sluggish and barely there, but a spark is spark. His family is still with him.

He stands shakily. His head is going to regret this. “But I ain’t letting you have your way either.” Bracing against the wall, Jesse drives his heel into the duel monster’s jaw.

Yubel reels backward with a snarl, and Jesse scrambles to his feet, fighting vertigo as he searches for an exit-

Sharp pain tears down his back. Jesse screams and crashes to the floor. His ears ring with the distant screams of family. Yubel descends upon him in a fury.

“You dare?! You insolent child!” Claws sink into the flesh of his shoulder and Jesse whimpers, automatically jerking away and nearly screaming again as his back lights up with agony. “You will only cause him more pain!”

His lungs heave, perpetually caught on the edge of another scream. The pulse in his ears threatens to drown out the creature screaming above him. His arms tremble uselessly against the cold stone. He couldn’t pick himself up even if he wasn’t pinned beneath Yubel’s weight. His back-

“I will not let him cry for you again!”

A...again? The image of Jaden’s face hovering over him streaked with tear surfaces in his mind, but Jesse’s never even seen Jaden cry. None of this makes any sense? “I just...wanna protect ‘im,” he mumbles absently.

“Protect him?” Yubel snarls. “What would you sacrifice for him? Your life? Death is easy! Try being the one who must live on after watching your beloved die, over and over!”

The pain in his shoulder flares and Jesse cries out again, shaking violently; he’s really going to die here. “I’m sorry!” he screams. He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for.

“You haven’t changed, light child,” Yubel hisses. “But you are still useful.”

He doesn’t know what that means and, honestly, that’s more terrifying than the muder happy lunatic with their claws sunk into his flesh. His vision dances red and black as he lies there heaving, trying to will any amount of strength into his limbs to fight back; but even twitching his shoulder makes him want to scream in agony. How long will he even survive with an injury like this?

Claws grip the back of his head. One final desperate plea. Something. Anything. “Yubel-” 

The creature yanks his head back and pain blossoms across his temple.

*

The insufferable child finally stills beneath them. Yubel waits in case it’s just a ploy, but the boy’s breath evens out, and his erratic thoughts quiet. His guardians still chitter from their prison.

“Be silent!” Yubel flicks another wave of shadows around the deck, reinforcing the bindings. Standing, they turn their attention back to the light child. Their claws cut deep, blood already pooling on the stone floor of the cave. Human bodies are frail. They’ll have to deal with that. They need him alive for now.

They wave a claw and recoil as the hot warmth pulsates within them. The shadows scatter in its brilliance. No, damnit! The shadows are theirs to command and they will not let this infection stop them! Yubel bends the shadows into submission until the wounds have been crudely patched; not fully healed, but all the better; an injured captive can struggle less.

“Well, that was quite a show.” The other boy steps from the shadows, clapping. Yubel narrows their eyes at him. He is shifty and devious, willing to do anything to get what he wants. But he proved useful, and he is not the only one willing to use others for his own gain. “So he’s going to be bait, huh?” The other boy bends down to observe the unconscious light child. “What are you going to do with Jaden when you get him?”

“That’s not your concern.”

The boy’s smile is a lie. “I suppose not. Anyway...” His eyes glint as he stands.

“As promised.” Yubel stretches out a claw and scales form around the other boy’s hand. He flexes it thoughtfully, while Yubel turns their attention to another part of the cavern.

“So what now?”

The card is right where they left it, still safe inside the capsule. They have finally broken free of this pathetic prison, but the chains may still prove useful. Sliding the card somewhere safe, Yubel returns to sling the unconscious light child over their shoulder.

“Now we set the next stage.”

Judai will be theirs and theirs alone even if they have to break him to do it.

[nexttrickanvils]

FE3H Fic: Stay With Me

So I’ve had this idea for a while and I’d been sick and miserable this week so I figured that was as good a reason as any to finally write this. Enjoy some sickfic.

Title: Stay With Me

Characters: F!Byleth Eisner, Claude Von Reigan, brief appearances by the rest of the Golden Deer, Manuela Casagranda

Ship: F!Byleth x Claude

Notes: Sickfic, spoilers for Chapter 9, Academy phase/pre-time skip, nothing super romantic aside from some face touching and pining.

---------

They should have known something was wrong.

He should have known something was wrong.

It was obvious that Jeralt’s death had hit Teach hard but Claude and the rest of the Golden Deer didn’t realize just how hard until now.

Teach seemed sluggish during today’s class, Hilda had to point out to her when someone asked a question multiple times, and there were moments where she seemingly forgot what she was saying in the first place.

Claude couldn’t help but worry.

“Hey Teach, maybe we should end class early. You don’t seem like you’re really into the material today.” He said in a lighthearted tone

She gave a look that Claude thinks was supposed to be a glare but he’s not entirely sure.

“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re planning Claude but we will finish when the bell rings as usual.”

Lysithea spoke up, “Actually Professor, I agree with Claude. You don’t seem well...”

“I’M FINE!” Teach shouted in response

Everyone stared at her in concern, none of the Golden Deer had ever seen her snap at a student like that. Teach seemed to be lucid enough to recognize what she did and gave an apologetic look.

“I-I apologize. I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m just… I… I’m… ugh… my head...”

Claude stood up from his seat and walked towards her.

“Teach, it’s okay. Nobody’s gonna be mad at you for taking a day off...”

“Cla… sta… uhhh.”

Teach seemed to wobble on her feet and then immediately collapsed, Claude quickly catching her before she hit the ground. Right away, he could feel her burning up in his arms.

“Someone get Manuela! Raph, help me carry Teach to her room!”

Marianne and Raphael rushed over to the two of them while the rest ran to go find Professor Manuela.

Raphael gently lifted up Teach from Claude’s arms and quickly carried her to the dormitories with Marianne and Claude following behind.

When they finally arrived at Teach’s room, Raphael slowly laid their professor on top of her bed. Marianne for her part, took the chair at the desk, and sat down next to the bed as she sent pulse after pulse of healing magic to Teach. While Marianne’s magic can’t cure the illness, it could at least ease the discomfort.

Meanwhile all Claude could think of was any other moments when Teach seemed off. Now that he thinks about it, he hadn’t really seen her taking it easy since Jeralt’s death. Usually he’d find her fishing or volunteering in the greenhouse or even helping the kitchen staff between lessons and training. But lately if she wasn’t teaching, she was training and if she wasn’t training, she was teaching.

‘Dammit, Teach. Why didn’t you say anything? How did we… how did I not notice…’

It wasn’t long before the rest of the Deer arrived with Manuela, who proceeded to shoo everyone out (though not before thanking Marianne for her help.)

“I guess all we can do is wait.” Remarked Hilda in a quiet tone

The others nodded and went their separate ways for now… all except Claude.

Instead of walking away, Claude went back to Teach’s door and sat down next to it. Through the door, he could hear fabric shifting (Manuela probably getting Teach out of her armor and into something more comfortable) along with some worried mumbling.

“Hanneman and I told you that we’d be willing to handle the workload for you. How did you get yourself into a state like this?”

Guess Claude and the Deer weren’t the only ones that Teach was hiding from.

Suddenly the door swung open and Manuela walked out, maybe she was getting something from the infirmary or some food for Teach.

Well whatever the reason, the door was wide open…

Once he was sure that no one else was around that could see, Claude slipped into the room and immediately saw Teach under a couple layers of blankets. If it weren’t for her heavy breathing and the red in her face, one would have thought she was just sleeping.

Claude sighs and begins to turn around. He really shouldn’t be staying in here, Manuela will probably be back soon and she’ll take better care of Teach than Claude could just standing and staring like an idi…

“Claude?”

At the sound of his name, Claude turns around and sees Teach looking at him with hazy unfocused eyes.

“Uh… hey Teach… y-you gave us all quite the scare earlier but uh… glad to see you’re still with us? I guess? I should really head out and...”

“Please… don’t leave...”

Claude stared at her… delirious, she was delirious that had to be it. But if she really is delirious wouldn’t it be worse to leave her alone?

Without thinking twice, Claude sat down in the chair next to the bed and offered his hand. He watched as Teach slowly reached for it. Despite her current state, her grip on his hand was tight. He could also feel her trying to tug him closer, so he moved himself and the chair closer and closer till his knees bumped into the bed.

At that point, Teach pulled his hand close to her face and rested against his palm. Claude could feel his cheeks heating up and turning red. If he wasn’t afraid that he’d accidentally drag her off the bed, he would have pulled his hand away.

“T-Teach?”

“Please stay… I don’t want… I don’t want to lose anyone else...” She said as tears began to well up in her eyes

Oh… okay… he sees how this is…

Claude relaxes and even swipes his thumb to catch her falling tears.

“It’s okay Teach… I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”

He hears a small hiccup as she continues to cry.

“I… I couldn’t save him… I wasn’t… wasn’t fast enough… strong enough… tried to turn back and...”

“Tried to turn…? Teach, it wasn’t your fault, you can’t blame yourself and training yourself to exhaustion isn’t going to help.”

“It hurts… it hurts so much and… and… what if I lose you too?”

Claude gives her a comforting smile, “I’m a big boy, Teach, you don’t have to protect me.”

“But you’re...”

“Your student, I know...”

“No… you’re… you’re special to me...”

Claude’s eyes widened at her statement. She didn’t really mean that right? It was just the delirium… right?

Before he could say anything else, Teach lifted up her other hand and placed it on his cheek. Claude feels himself tense up, again afraid to move, as she starts to caress his blushing face. He sees the smallest hint of a smile on her face.

“You’re… a friend...”

A friend… y-yeah… of course that’s what she meant and she’s just feeling a little extra touchy-feely because she’s sick and grieving and vulnerable…

That thought doesn’t stop him from leaning into her touch.

“Eh heh… I’m uh… flattered. I consider you a… a friend too.”

Honestly… she’s become that and more to him… and it only took him till the Ball to realize what that really meant.

“Promise me… promise me you’ll be okay… promise you won’t leave...”

He knows he can’t promise her that but…

“I promise… just as long as you promise to take better care of yourself. I can’t stay by your bed all day you know. Now come on, go rest.”

Teach lets out a small laughing huff as she finally pulls her hands back. After a minute or two, she closes her eyes. Claude gently brushes a few strands of hair from her face and stands up… and is immediately greeted by Manuela holding a bowl of water and some towels.

“Oh! Professor Manuela… thanks for taking care of Teach… I just wanted to check up on her and… how… how long have you been standing there?”

“Around the time you were assuring her that Jeralt’s death wasn’t her fault. Don’t worry Claude, I know you’re not the kind of cad that would take advantage of an ailing woman.”

“Eh heh heh… thanks?”

Claude steps aside as Manuela walks in and places the bowl on the nightstand.

“I do have to say though: I’m glad she has you.” She remarked

“What do you mean?”

“You had to admit that Byleth was bit of an odd one when she first arrived; very curt and to the point, wasn’t very expressive. I know mercenaries tend to steel themselves for their work but still… I couldn’t help but worry if there were times where Byleth forgot that she’s still human.”

Claude stayed quiet; he couldn’t really tell Manuela the truth that he and Teach discovered in Jeralt’s journal. That she lacked a heartbeat. That even as a baby she didn’t cry or laugh or smile.

Manuela continued as she dampened one of the towels.

“But I did notice her changing over the year and honestly I think the brightest I’ve seen her smile is when she’s with her students. I suppose you all made quite an impact on her, especially you in particular Claude. So thank you for being there for her.”

Claude could feel the blush returning to his face as he tried to put his carefree mask back on.

“Yeah that’s the Golden Deer for ya, making an impact. I… uh… I should head out, let you work in peace. Let me… I mean let us know when Teach starts feeling better. Thanks again, Professor.”

He wasn’t sure if it was because he was getting rusty or if Manuela was more observant that he gave her credit for but Claude could tell she didn’t quite buy his little act.

“Alright, you have a good day, Claude.” Manuela replied with a smile and a wink

Claude stepped out of the room and slowly and carefully closed the door. Once he was sure the door was closed, Claude ran.

He got some stares from other students but at the moment, he didn’t care. When he finally reached his room, Claude shut the door and sank down against it.

“...You’re special to me...”

He trusts her… he loves her… he knows that.

“I suppose you all made quite an impact on her, especially you in particular Claude.”

Claude shakes his head, Teach said she saw him as a friend and besides he’s still her student. While he’s more than happy to break some rules, this is a boundary he feels he shouldn’t cross.

...And yet…

“...Promise you won’t leave...”

Maybe Byleth needed Claude as much as he needed her...

[taste-thewaste]

If They’re Green (Madderton Fic)

Anon asked me to write for fluffy prompt #24, “that was, by far, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.” Thank you! This one really took on a life of its own and is the longest drabble i’ve ever done at around 1400 words (so a story? lol) This is suuuuper fluffy and schmoopy and soft and I’m kind of in love with how it turned out? The boys are so soft and stupid in this and I just love them. I hope you guys enjoy. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rich was positively knackered. Shooting The Eternals was one of the most draining experiences of his career thus far, and every night he came home from the shoot completely exhausted, pausing only for a few moments to shove some food into himself before falling into his bed and passing out. He hadn’t seen Taron in weeks, having lost his boyfriend to a plethora of engagements before an extended holiday in Aber with his family and his own crazy hours at work on the film. They spoke as frequently as possible, in the car on the way to the set or in between Taron having dinner with his family and helping his sisters with their homework. 

Richard missed Taron desperately, so much that it was almost a relief to be working 14-hour days because it stopped him from concentrating on the way his heart felt like it was caving in. He missed T’s easy smile, the way it lit up a room. He missed his fluffy hair, officially grown back in as much as it would ever be, and the way it felt like the soft fuzz of a baby animal when he ran his fingers through it. He missed Taron’s hips, legs, thighs. 

One morning, Richard was on his way in to the set when his phone vibrated. Taron’s picture lit up the screen, and a smile lit up his face. “Hiya, T.” 

“Dickie, darling. How’s it?” 

“On my way to work, you know. What’re you up to?” 

“About to have breakfast with the family.” 

“That sounds lovely. What else is on the agenda for today?” 

As Taron started to prattle away, telling Richard about his plans to take his sisters to the park and wander the beach, Richard’s heart started to ache again. This boy of his, this beautiful boy. They’d been reduced to stolen moments, four-minute phone calls and sleepy voicemails, Facetime when they could catch each other. His bed was empty and it was cold and this whole thing was bloody awful. 

When Taron paused to take a breath, Richard blurted it out. “Oh, T. I miss you.” 

He heard Taron’s brief exhale on the other line. “Rich. You have no idea.”

“This is terrible. I need you.” Richard gripped his phone tightly. 

“We’ll be back together before you know it, love. And in the meantime I get to practice my naughty text messages,” Taron said, his voice dipping lower on the word naughty, and Richard chuckled. 

“I know, but…” 

“Eh, I got to go, darlin’. I’m so sorry. Buck up, okay? Promise?” 

“Yeah, alright. Love you.” 

“And I love you,” Taron said, and then the line was dead and he was gone, and Richard was back at work and missing him again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the end of the day, Richard was down for the count. He had the next two days off, and he was ready to relax and get some proper rest. As soon as he got home, he fixed himself dinner and when he was finished eating, he changed into a tight t-shirt, shed his pants, and popped a sleeping pill. Despite his exhaustion, Richard knew himself and he knew that if he didn’t take a sleeping pill, he’d be up at dawn like normal, which wasn’t in his plans for the next day. 

He was about to head into his bedroom, body aching to slide down between his sheets, when he heard a knock at the door. He groaned, wondering who on earth it could be, and almost fell over when he saw Taron at the door. 

“Missed me?” Taron asked with a cheeky grin on his face, and Richard barked out a laugh and gathered the shorter man in his arms. 

“You’re damn right I missed you,” Richard said in a low growl, kissing Taron long and hard and then dipping his head down, nuzzling his neck. Taron scrunched up his shoulders, a grin from ear-to-ear as Richard’s scruffy face scratched the sensitive skin of his neck. 

“God, this feels good,” Taron muttered under his breath, and Richard nodded, saying little. 

After a few moments, Taron kissed Richard’s forehead. “Wanna grab a drink?” 

Richard nodded, but noted how sluggish he was starting to feel and let out a groan. “Oh, fuck. I didn’t know you were coming so I took a sleeping pill. I’m going to be dead to the world here pretty soon. I’m sorry, love.” 

Taron’s face dipped in disappointment. “No worries. There’s always tomorrow.”

Richard nodded. I like the sound of that. Tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~

A half hour later, Richard was snuggled underneath the covers in his bed, Taron curled up next to him. Richard’s mouth was open as he snored, softly, and his chest rose and fell evenly. Taron stroked one finger down his cheek.

“Diiiiickie,” he said softly. Part of Taron thought that maybe Richard had exaggerated how deeply he would be asleep, and he was bored, and wanted a lot more than the small amount of affection he’d gotten since he’d been here. It had been weeks, damn it. 

“Rich. Rich,” Taron said, a little more insistently, running his fingers through Richard’s hair. Richard didn’t stir, and it brought a small smile to Taron’s face, seeing him sleep so peacefully. He knew how grueling things had been for him lately. 

He’s sleeping so soundly, Taron thought, continuing to run his fingers through Richard’s soft curls. Like nothing could wake him. 

A thought suddenly occurred to Taron, and his small smile turned into a positively wicked grin. 

I could have some fun with this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Richard shifted, consciousness flooding his body all at once, and he sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He always felt a little groggy after taking a sleeping pill, and it didn’t occur to him for a few moments, until he saw the suitcase in the corner, that Taron was there. He smiled and rolled out of bed slowly. He went into the bathroom to take a leak and brush his teeth before joining Taron out in the living room. 

Taron, meanwhile, was putting the finishing touches on a big brunch for Richard, the same lecherous grin from the evening before crossing his face as he heard Richard start to stir in the bedroom. He was pouring the orange juice when he heard it. 

“What the FUCK?” Richard screamed from the bathroom, and Taron started to giggle. 

Rich, clad only in his briefs, came rushing out into the living room. When Taron saw him, his giggle morphed into a full-blown guffaw as he clutched his stomach in laughter. “Oh, it’s even better seeing it like this!” 

The grey streak in Richard’s hair, that tiny quirk of his that had always made Taron think of him as a distinguished gentleman, had been dyed a vivid green, as though someone had crushed up a handful of shamrocks and mixed them into his hair. Richard’s cheeks were pink, and they turned even pinker as he watched Taron doubled over in laughter.

“What the fuck did you do?!” Richard yelled, practically hysterical. “I have to go into work in a couple of days, what the fuck, Taron?!”

“Oh, relax, Dickie, it washes out, you’ll be just fine,” Taron said, straightening up and wiping very-real tears from his eyes. “You look lovely, anyways,” he said, beginning to giggle again. 

“When the hell did you--” 

“Last night. You were right, those sleeping pills really do knock you out,” Taron said, going over and putting his arms around Richard’s waist. “Come on, give me a smile. You know you want to.” 

Richard shook his head and disentangled himself from Taron’s arms, throwing himself on the sofa and crossing his arms like a toddler. Taron, still chuckling, brought a plate of bacon over and sat next to Richard. 

He casually picked a piece of bacon up and held it out to Richard, who said nothing. Slowly, he brought the piece of bacon over to Richard’s mouth and pushed it onto his lips, playfully, trying to get him to eat. Finally, Richard acquiesced, opening his mouth and letting Taron feed him a few bites. 

“Hungry, Shrek?” Taron asked innocently, his eyes wide and trying not to giggle. Richard tried not to laugh, tried desperately, but failed, bursting out into peals of laughter. 

“That was, by far, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done,” Richard said, grabbing another piece of bacon from the plate and chewing on it. 

“I know,” Taron said happily, running his fingers through the green patch of light curls. 

“You’re sure it’ll wash out?” 

“Yeah, of course. I think.”

“You THINK?”

[thebipolarbisexualnerd]

Before and After

Steve’s world is all about after the serum was given and after he woke from his time in the ice.  What if he was forced to live the before, even just for awhile?

This is inspired by @whumpitywhumpwhump post about asthma and how terrifying it is so I decided to write this little thing.  Well, it was supposed to be little anyways.

When Steve woke his room was dark and he could only see darkness outside his window as well.  He blinked heavily a few times and ran a hand through his hair to try and wake up a little more.  He remembered vaguely that the team plus Bucky had gone out on a mission that afternoon.  Hydra had been causing problems and as usual they were the ones to interfere before it got out of control.  

His heart stuttered in his chest.

This time had been different.  They had been expecting them to show up and almost eager to see them.  The fighting had been difficult, even for him and his beyond normal capabilities.  One of them had gotten the upper hand on him and before he could throw the guy twenty feet away from him he had been injected with something.  He remembered the fear that had shot through him when he realized a needle had pierced his neck.  The memories it brought back had been unpleasant to say the least.  

He had actually cried a bit when Bucky had found him frozen in place.

Whatever he’d been injected with must have knocked him out for the rest of the day and they had left him to sleep it off.  Steve smiled at his knees when he heard dishes being washed in the kitchen and slowly the hum of TV filtered in.  Not everyone had left him of course.  Buck would never leave his side like that.  Hell, he would probably leave him to fend for himself despite the fact that now he could lift almost twice his body weight.  

He made a displeased sound when he swung his legs over the side of the bed and the room spun for a moment.  How did they find something strong enough to still affect him after so many hours?  Bruce couldn’t even give him anything to last more than four, despite trying for months now.   He brought a hand up to his head and closed his eyes to try and get the world to stay still long enough for him to figure out what was going on.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Bucky slowly eased the door open and his face lit up when he saw Steve awake.  “You’ve been out for about nine hours.  It’s nearly midnight.”  He wasn’t so casual when Steve made another sound of alarmed displeasure and dropped his head fully into his hands as he hunched over the side of the bed.  He felt sick to his stomach in such a foreign way that it was almost frightening.  Since that serum he hadn’t been ill and nothing had really affected him physically.  His body had been through beating after beating and he had never felt this awful.  “Steve?”

“I’m…” Steve wanted to tell him he was fine, but fear was clogging his throat.  This was so stupid.  There was nothing to be afraid of.  HIs stomach being upset was perfectly reasonable when he’d been given a heavy dose of some drug.  “What did they drug me with?”

“Bruce didn’t have any conclusive results to tell us.  He figured it was some kind of tranquilizer to get you out of the fight.” Bucky knelt in front of him and had both hands on his knees.  “How are you feeling?”

“Sick,” Steve admitted softly as he swallowed a few times.  “That must of been one hell of a tranquilizer then.”

“You feel dizzy,” Bucky’s hand came up to brush through his hair and over the hands already cradling his head.  

“Dizzy and have a headache,” Steve confirmed as he tried to shake off feeling so off.  “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” He made to stand and immediately was weak in the knees.  Bucky hurried to catch him before he hit the carpet and Steve felt the fear increase.  What the hell was going on?

“Take it easy Stevie,” Bucky’s voice leaked of concern as well and he tried not to let it alarm him further.  “Let’s stay in bed, okay?  You hungry or anything?  You haven’t eaten all day so I’m sure you’re starving.  Tony brought up some sandwiches around dinner for you to have.  Or I can make you whatever you want me to.”

“Just stay,” Steve said in a voice that could barely be heard.  He tugged Bucky close and felt his eyes drift closed again.  The other man quickly got the hint to climb in bed with him and cradle him close.  

“You just need some rest, Doll,” Bucky told him softly with a soft kiss to his head.  “Today was a rough fight.  Nobody came back from that without a few bruises.  They came after you the hardest.”

“I don’t get sick,” Steve said quietly and felt his eyes sting.  What the hell was going on?  “I mean, ever.  After eight hours I should be healed just fine.  It was just some drug.  They didn’t even really hit me.  I spent four days with Tony when he had the flu and I didn’t get so much as a sniffle.  I feel… I feel funny.”

“Shh,” Bucky hushed him gently with a hand tangled back in his hair.  “Tomorrow you’ll be fine, okay?  Get some more sleep and the morning will bring a better day.”

Steve was too exhausted to argue that point so he let himself fall asleep and pretend that nothing weird was going on.  

He woke before Bucky the next morning and was relieved when his symptoms did seem to be better.  He felt a bit sluggish, but other than that he was fine.  He got changed for his morning run and made some breakfast for himself.  He was full after only three eggs, which was unheard of, but maybe it was part of his recovery.  He quickly put on some shoes and went outside for his usual run.  Soon enough he was on the familiar streets of the city and everything was fine again.  His fear had been for nothing after all.  

He thought that for about twenty minutes before the fear came back ten times worse.

He felt his chest getting tight about ten minutes into his run, but he figured his lungs just had to wean off the last of that drug and pushed on.  He could run for at least a couple hours before his body showed any sign of weariness.  He had made it almost to his familiar streets of Brooklyn when he passed a construction site where work was actively happening for a change.  He waved to the guys, too out of breath for a real greeting.  He slowed to a jog but that wasn’t enough for his body to catch breath again.  He started to cough as the tightness grew like a rubber band had been wrapped around him.  

He knew this pain.  He had had it so many times growing up on these streets with construction and all kinds of stuff in the air.  He could hardly walk to school without using his inhaler once back in the day.  He leaned a hand on a brick wall next to him as he seemed to be unable to suck in air to his lungs.  He felt like he couldn’t breath and like the dust was choking him.  This didn’t happen to Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America.  This hadn’t happened since coming out of the ice.  

The pain grew and his breathing got worse, bringing him to his knees.  The fear crashed over him in a tsunami tide now as he fought to suck in air.  He fumbled for his phone in his pocket and dialed the person he called the most.  

“Did you seriously go running after the night you had?” Bucky offered instead of a greeting.  “Nobody is going to blame you for laying in bed one morning of your life.  Super soldier or not you are allowed rest and relaxation.  I had plans for-”

“Buck,” Steve got out as tears streamed down his face.  He didn’t care what he looked like right now when he could hardly suck any air in and he felt like he was suffocating.  “Bucky.”

“Steve?  Hon, what’s going on?” BUcky’s voice turned sharp and serious in an instant.  “Are you alright?”

“I can’t breathe,” Steve choked out as panic crept over him as he said it aloud.  “Asthma.”

“Asthma?” Bucky repeated, bewildered.  “What the fuck?  Steve you don’t have-”

“Bucky,” Steve sobbed his name again as he clutched his chest.  

“I’m on my way to you,” Bucky assured him and Steve could dimly hear doors slamming as he made good on his promise.  “Stark can track you or whatever.  Take a deep breath Steve.”

Steve tried to and it hurt like hell.  His chest was burning and he was getting dizzy from lack of proper oxygen.  “Can’t.  It h-hurts.”  

“I know it does,” Bucky said, sounding in nearly as much pain as he was in.  He heard Bucky saying something frantically to someone else.  “We are on our way, okay?  I’ll see you in just a few minutes.  It’s gonna be okay I promise.”

Steve let the phone go limp to the ground and tried to hold onto the thought of Bucky coming soon.  He could get him through this if it was asthma.  God knew he had more than enough practice.  The number of times he had forgotten his inhaler as a kid was staggering.  He really had had no self-preservation skills.  

Loud footsteps gave him seconds of warning before both Bucky and Tony were in front of him.  He was having a full blown panic attack by now and his head was throbbing in pain.  Bucky didn’t hesitate a moment before maneuvering behind him and tugging him close to his chest.  

“Okay, okay Stevie I’m right here.  We got this down to a science now, hm?  Follow my breathing, okay?” Bucky’s hands were rubbing his shoulders gently as his chest moved slowly and deliberately.  

“W-why is this happening?” Steve gasped out as he tried to follow instructions.  The alarm wouldn’t leave him since it had been so long and it should be impossible for this to be happening at all.  

“Steve, we’ve got you, alright?” Tony said steadily.  “I may not have asthma, but panic attacks are my specialty by now.  We’ll get you through this.”

“I brought this,” Bucky showed him an inhaler that Steve had no idea existed.  The plastic was pressed to his lips and Steve felt a smidge of relief as the medication miraculously hit his lungs.  He coughed a few more times and it seemed to take forever for air to reach his lungs properly.  

Steve curled against Bucky’s chest as the pain ebbed away to a bearable level, though the fear was still there.  Tony was holding his hand and looking concerned and kind.  It was a surreal experience and he hated being seen crying like this.  He felt like a kid all over again and it wasn’t the best feeling.  

“Feel any better?” Tony asked quietly after long minutes of the three of them sitting on the sidewalk.  Steve nodded and squeezed his hand tightly.  “I’m sure that was terrifying.  It’s been decades since you had to go through that, right?”

“What is going on?” Bucky asked quietly as he rubbed his back.  “Steve doesn’t have asthma.  He doesn’t have even a hint of it.  He was out of it last night after the drugs had been his system for over nine hours.  Something weird is going on.”

“It looks like something they gave him messed with the serum,” Tony speculated as he rocked back on his heels and stood.  “Let’s get him back the Tower and away from the construction.  It’s probably what set him off in the first place.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Bucky warned as Steve tried to stand up on his own.  “You just worry about getting air into those lungs.  You need to take it easy until we figure this out.”  

“I’m sorry,” Steve apologized softly as Bucky scooped him up in his arms.  A kiss was pressed to his temple softly.

“Darling, you don’t need to apologize at all.  This isn’t your fault,” Bucky assured him quietly.  

“I should have taken it easy.  Should have known something was off,” Steve said hoarsely before breaking into a round of coughs.  

“Take another puff of your inhaler,” Bucky instructed and already the Tower was in view.  He really hadn’t gotten far when he had collapsed.  Steve fell quiet and let his head rest on Bucky’s shoulder as they quickly approached the Tower.  This whole thing made him feel oddly helpless.  He could remember in the days when Bucky was constantly with him in case he got in trouble with other boys, or his breathing, or anything else he could find.  He would have died at least five times over if Bucky had never been his friend.  He had truly forgotten how terrifying asthma attacks were until now.   He didn’t want to go back to those times now that he knew a world where breathing was done without thinking.  How could he be an Avenger with asthma?  Without the serum who was he in this new world?  He had had a hard enough time finding a place in it as a superhero.  What use would he be as just peaky Steve Rogers?

He was quiet as Bucky settled him in a bed and Tony went to see if Bruce was free to see him.  He felt small now and he wasn’t used to feeling that way.  He had become so used to being the guy that saved the day time and time again.  Of feeling useful and powerful for a change.  

“Steve,” Bucky said as he sat next to him on the bed.  The quiet rumble of his voice caused the tears to come back as Steve realized that his hero days could be over and he would go back to being nobody again.  It wouldn’t matter so much except all of his friends were on the team now.  He had nobody outside the Avengers.   A hand came up to cup his cheek as a thumb wiped away his tears.  “What’s the tears about, babydoll?”

“What if Captain America is over?” Steve asked in a quivering voice, staring at the white sheets.  “What if I’m not a hero anymore?”

“I’ll sleep a ton better,” Bucky muttered as a joke, but it fell flat when Steve didn’t so much as smile.  “So what if you aren’t a hero?”

“My whole life is here,” Steve said miserably.  “I don’t have a place out there.  If I have to leave I don’t have anything.  I don’t even know where I’d live or-”

“Steve,” Bucky interrupted him and made their eyes meet.  “Nobody in this tower loves you because you can throw cars around, alright?  If whatever Hydra did to you really did take away your powers nothing will change with anyone here.  Your home is here, with me for good.  Okay?”

“Why would you ever question if you belong here?”  Tony cut in as he stepped in the room.  “Capsicle, you’re stuck with us no matter what goes on.  That much I can promise you.”

“Yeah, yeah I know that,” Steve muttered as he held Bucky close.  

“Let’s get some answers, yeah?” Bruce cut in as he shrugged on his coat and stepped into the room

It didn’t take long to conclude that Hydra had indeed tried to mess with his powers.  They were trying to take them out from the inside instead of fighting them.  Steve was their first target.  He wasn’t sure if he was horrified or honored by that.  Bruce, genius that he is, had a plan to get him back to full strength, but it seemed like he would have to lay low for a few weeks.  Steve already had a feeling the number of missions were about to increase dramatically in that time.  

But he would come back stronger than ever sooner than they’d think.  

[klbloodx]

HLS Chapter 4 - 2027.2.12 Niansi

(Source: net)

It was nine o'clock the next day when Xiao Nanzhu finally woke up.

He rubbed the side of his head as he walked out of the bedroom with his brain still groggy and slow. His eyebrows scrunched together tightly.

Humans unconsciously relax once they are no longer in a harsh environment. Even though Xiao Nanzhu had been used to military life before, those overwhelming scenes and words that were enough to turn a person’s views upside down on that night rendered him unable to think.

His phone showed two missed calls from Situ Zhang. He tucked his phone in between his neck and shoulder to return the call as he walked towards the kitchen. As he came up to the refrigerator, he stopped his steps abruptly when he suddenly remembered the strange old Huangli that he stashed in the refrigerator.

“Hey, so you’re finally awake?”

Situ Zhang's sluggish voice resounded on the other end of the phone. Xiao Nanzhu replied with a soft “en” as he absentmindedly raised a finger and held the refrigerator door. His mind was still going over what happened last night——this ghostly matter could not be mentioned to others. Even if he talked about it, they certainly would not believe him.

“Why are you calling me in the morning?” Xiao Nanzhu asked flatly. He was preoccupied with the refrigerator in front of him at the moment, but he still managed to spare some of his attention to chat with Situ Zhang. Upon hearing him, Situ Zhang let out a sigh and spoke in an awkward manner.

“I say, how could your memories be so bad when you’re still young? Didn't I tell you just yesterday? I promised to help you find a job after the New Year, remember? I know a lot of people——surely there’s a way if we ask around, but you have to promise me to accompany me for a few meals in the next few days. These things can only be discussed over the table, you know? You can’t do as you wish like you used to, Xiao Nanzhu…”

Situ Zhang was nagging him non-stop like an old mother, but Xiao Nanzhu knew he had good intentions, so he didn’t interrupt him. In actuality, however, Xiao Nanzhu was not the kind of person who could make friends and call them bros after a round of drinks. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been an outcast in the army and ended up in such an awkward situation.

Likewise, knowing fairly well about his temper and personality, Situ Zhang understood the difficulties that Xiao Nanzhu faced and tried to deliver his message patiently. He even considered Xiao Nanzhu’s “face” and contacted him without waiting for him to ask him for help——this heart of his was very precious.

As he thought to himself, Xiao Nanzhu felt that maybe he shouldn’t be so ungrateful. Afterall, he couldn’t be picky given his lousy condition. If Situ Zhang managed to help him get a reliable job, it wouldn’t hurt for him go to work after New Years.

While he was still lost in thought, Situ Zhang on the other end had already changed the topic and decided to finish what he had to say.

“Anyways, no matter what, you must come to this Jiuju① tonight! This host is one of my biggest customers; he always come for an entire treatment and massage… You know who he is? He’s the sales manager of an insurance company! You know how many contacts and resources this kind of person holds onto-it’ll surely benefit you. If you work with him, there will surely be a future for you!! If this job doesn’t suit you this time, I’ll find another one for you! Investors——I even know those who sell health products! The sales industry has shaped lots of talented people! Of course, if you could find yourself a job before New Years, that would be the best! Then this buddy of yours can be accountable② to your grandmother! Right? Haha!”

After trolling his childhood buddy with words that even he himself didn't believe, Situ Zhang cut the call immediately. As if he knew Xiao Nanzhu was going to be mad, he left him no chance to utter a word and hung up. Having been cut off, Xiao Nanzhu was left at a loss for words and pocketed his phone. The frustration pent up in his heart had nowhere to go. It was only after awhile that Xiao Nanzhu silently let out a curse.

“Darn Situ, why don't you just tell me to do the Pyramid scam③ instead…”

He said it in a rather teeth-gnashing way. The inexperienced occupational newbie Xiao Nanzhu felt helpless for once. He, too, wanted to solve his work and life problems once and for all.

But just as Situ Zhang had said, in today’s society, without certifications or connections, he couldn’t get anywhere without a hitch.

As he continued to think, anxiety filled his heart and urged Xiao Nanzhu to smoke. He frowned and unwittingly looked at the refrigerator. There was a supermarket gift magnet attached to the fridge door. He pursed his lips, put his hand on it, and grasped the magnet in a daze. However, before he could open the fridge door, he heard a faint sneeze from inside the fridge.

He had been already shocked twice in a row yesterday. Xiao Nanzhu feared nothing at the moment.

It was the daytime anyway, so there was no need to be scared of demons or monsters. Moreover, it wasn’t even a problem for him, a retired soldier, to fight a demon empty-handed. His life and work problems were troubling him, so he desperately needs a punching bag then and there.

With that being said, as he was solemnly waiting for this creature to come out of the fridge to welcome him with a kick, the fridge door opened. Immediately, a young, scholarly man with green robes and frost-laden hair popped his head out as he shivered and fussed.

“H-How absurd! Who set the air conditioner this cold during winter?! This young man is gonna catch a cold sleeping naked… Achoo! Achoo!”

Xiao Nanzhu: “...”

...

Based on Niansi(24th)’s appearance, he appeared to be a delicate and pretty young scholar around twenty years of age. He was a poetic man who seemed to be surrounded by the fragrance of ink.

Niansi usually stayed in the old Huangli. His job was really relaxing and provided a lot of liberty for him.

During his free time, he would read some books in his small study or listen to Kunqu④. He would also often write a few love letters and flower petal rafts to Mangzhong-jiejie and Guyu-meimei⑤ whom have enamored him for a long time.

(Source:baidu search result. A Kun opera actress.)

Although his carp-farming neighbor Xiaonian was a noisy, hyperactive kid that liked to wear crotch pants and disturb his good night’s sleep, that didn’t stop him from living the simple and poetic life he pursued.

Even though he wasn’t an important holiday, nor was he a special solar term, being the most ordinary of the most ordinary days meant he must work hard! What if one day he becomes the memorial day of someone great?!

Harboring such a great ambition in his chest, Niansi thought to himself and worked even harder.

Every year when it was his day to work, this young man would come down from the calendar and work for his boss, who was also the owner of the Huangli, for a full day.

This kind of repetitive routine had been in effect for thousands of years by now. As calendar gods, they must give the Huangli Shi the most accurate tellings of the daily fortune and mishaps and zodiac and dream interpretations. Sometimes, they even need to dispel evil spirits in person.

Niansi had 364 colleagues. All of them worked for the Huangli Shi because of the presence of the old Huangli.

During this period of time, they had countless masters. In the end, time is vast and boundless: the lifespan of human beings could not compare to theirs.

In Niansi’s memory, he may have met his new master for only a few times, but by the next meeting, nothing remained the same. Niansi’s master had changed yet again five years ago along with the sentimental partings and vicissitudes.

His female boss, surnamed Xiao, was stingy and bad-tempered. When Niansi first met her, she was only 21.

She got the old and rugged Huangli from her scrap-picking father and unknowingly discovered the secrets of the old Huangli. This was a magical occurrence almost unimaginable for ordinary beings.

However, this brave young lady didn’t show a single sign of fear or backing off. She volunteered herself to become a Huangli Shi. During the period of years that she became a Huangli Shi, Niansi didn’t even feel that time had done anything to him, but this young lady named Xiao Ruhua grew old.

Old lady Xiao was sick. She always reprimanded those lazy calendar gods for not working when she was healthy, but when she fell ill, none of them were happy about it.

Double Ninth Festival⑥ suggested that they organise a donation for old lady Xiao. Nurses Day, on the other hand, called for everyone to take care of their body and stay vigilant against cancer. Mid-autumn Festival specially brought two boxes of five-kernel mooncakes⑦ from Guanghan palace⑧ to express his sincerity. Children’s Day, on the other hand, said nothing but cried for the whole day holding old lady Xiao’s hand.

They are the almighty and powerful calendar gods, but faced with such circumstances, even they cannot change the fate of a person who is reaching the end of her life…

Because of this, Niansi was especially sorrowful for a very long time.

He had prepared a beautiful acrostic poem for the ill old lady Xiao. Unfortunately, she passed away on a day he wasn’t working, and he never had the chance to read it to her.

The only thing he remembered was a boy’s stiflingly pained groans from inside the hospital ward. From that day onwards, the calendar gods in the old Huangli were no longer under the restriction of a boss.

(Source: net)

This indefinite period of rest left a layer of dust over the once-new labour contract lying on the coffee table.

Niansi and the other calendar gods were actually prepared to negotiate with the new boss about work welfare and insurance, but that dumb grandson of old lady Xiao didn’t know anything. His only intention was to get out of there later on. So just like that, he left this huge crowd of over 300 employees hanging on the wall to collect dust.

Because of this, the few proud and arrogant traditional festivals that usually couldn’t be bothered with insignificant small fry had secretly complained about him. It had been several years since that Xiao Nanzhu fellow left. When he finally came back, Niansi looked at himself in the mirror and saw that even his chin had grown a beard.

It was midnight. Xiaonian ran outside noisily and then came back whining.

Niansi was curious to see how that lonely boy who cried pitifully that time was now. He even shaved his beard for this occasion.

Nianwu(25th) and the others wanted him to have a good talk with Xiao Nanzhu, whether it be about life,ideals, or dreams—— all were fine. Their purpose was to let him know about the advantages of being a Huangli Shi, so Niansi accepted this honorable mission.

However, what he really didn’t expect was that before he even got out of the calendar, he immediately felt a bone chilling gust of wind blowing on his face.

“H-How absurd! Who set the air conditioner this cold during winter?! This young man is gonna catch a cold… Achoo! Achoo!”

 1. Jiuju 酒局：Not sure if there’s an English equivalent word for it. Basically a culture of talking business over alcohol. 

2. Accountable in this case refers to Situ Zhang feels that he had some responsibility to give Xiao Nanzhu a hand/take care of him so as not to make grandmother Xiao worry.

3. Pyramid scam 传销：Or pyramid marketing, a pyramid scheme is an illegal investment scam based on a hierarchical setup.

4.  Kunqu 昆曲：Or Kun opera, it is one of the oldest opera in China’s history.

5. Jiejie 姐姐=elder sister, Meimei 妹妹=younger sister, Gege 哥哥=elder brother, Didi 弟弟=younger brother

 This chapter is edited by Noxeru. Thank you so much for reading >w<!

[rycbrar97]

Consequences [part two]

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female!OC

Warnings: Minor swearing, mentions of menstruation, brief mentions of sex, sickness, mentions of pregnancy, character feeling anxiety/shock

Word count: 3745

Summary: One too many drinks leads to a night both Tom and Alessia will definitely forget and a morning they will always remember.

A/N: I am so excited to write this series, hopefully I didn’t rush this chapter too much. I was just real eager to get this out there to everyone! Let me know if you enjoy it 😉  

Taglist Requests

Part one 

By the time she made it back to her hotel Alessia had already decided that there was no point in telling her sister who she ended up staying the night with and losing her virginity to. She would never believe it. It was hard enough convincing her that she actually had lost her virginity in the first place, nevertheless with Spider-Man himself. 

“What?! You? Had sex? As in done the dirty? Miss ‘I can hardly say the word penis without blushing’,” Sophie had let out incredulously, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Oh my goodness, yes, Soph. Do you have to make it so goddamn embarrassing? Why would I lie to you about this?” Alessia groaned, hands digging into her eyes and legs pacing her back and forth.

“I don’t know! I guess I just didn’t expect my saint of a sister telling me that she lost her virginity on a one night stand whilst completely pissed up the gutter-”

“God, do you have to say it like that?” she interrupted, stopping her pacing mid-stride and staring at her sister dead on, the mortification screaming off her face.

“Hey, that’s what you told me! Just because you don’t want to admit you’re a whore now doesn’t mean that you aren’t one. Somebody has to say it-”

“God, just shut up! Shut up, okay?!” Alessia’s hands shook up and down at each word, her pacing returning with increased intensity.

“Jeez, stop freaking out! This is a normal thing, okay? This is what normal people do. They get drunk, have sex and do the walk of shame the next morning. There’s nothing wrong with that—” Soph explained bluntly, trying to calm her sister back down, despite it having the complete opposite effect. But when a sudden thought crosses her mind, her blabber mouth just couldn’t help but voice it,“—oh my god though, mum is going to freak...”

Alessia’s back snapped rim rod straight and she spun herself right round to her sister, “You will not tell her about this,” she whispered lowly, “don’t you even dare,” her hazel eyes pierced sharply into Soph’s wide round ones, finger pointed menacingly at her face.

The sister put her hands up defensively, “Okay, okay. No need to be so dramatic,” she squeaked, briefly terrified at her older sister’s stone cold gaze.

“Promise me,” she demanded, her eyes struggling to keep out the desperation in them,“ promise me she will never know of this,” she repeated. She knew how her younger sister could be. She couldn’t keep a secret to save her own life. God knows the amount of gossip that girl has revealed to all her friends and family. All the nitty and gritty. She not only loved a bit of drama but she also revelled in it. Alessia just hoped and prayed that she would instil enough fear into the girl to keep this personal info locked away permanently. Most importantly, away from their mother. 

“I promise,” she vowed, the sincerest that Alessia had ever seen her be. But yet, she still couldn’t completely trust her.

She just had too big of a mouth.

Two months gone, and so far Sophie had kept to her promise, but Alessia was still hedging her bets. Life returned relatively back to normal; the girls returned home from their Europe trip three days after that fateful morning. And despite feeling like a completely changed woman after her sexual milestone, the world continued to spin around Alessia as it always did. She returned to her comfortable one bedroom flat with the yellow tea stains still imprinted on her carpet, books and coffee cups scattered across the living area from where she first left them because she couldn’t be bothered to tidy them up before her trip. Her bed was made at least, for which she was eternally thankful for as she felt like she needed at least ten years worth of sleep. Jet lag was an absolute bitch she came to saw.

She was back at work two days later, her body clock still out of whack. While it was nice to catch up with all her colleagues and get back into her routine, she found it quite hard to concentrate when she was yawning almost every two seconds. Luckily, her boss was an absolute gem and completely understood how she felt.

“Oo. Jet lag got you good, huh?” Linda inquired sympathetically, her soft wrinkled eyes observing her knowingly.

“Yeah,” Alessia yawned, rubbing briefly at her eyes before returning to snipping the stems of the daffodils laid in front of her, “I was hoping to be adjusted by now, but I guess my body has other ideas.”

Linda nodded understandingly, “I know what that’s like. It took me almost two weeks to start getting back into my normal sleep routine after coming back from Egypt. You just gotta try and push through the urge to fall asleep during the day and wait until night comes. It’s hard, but worth it in the end,” the older lady advised, continuing with her rose arrangements.

“Thanks, I’ll see how I go. Hopefully I’ll stop feeling tired soon. I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve pricked myself today because I couldn’t focus. I almost grabbed one of our cactus succulents by mistake instead of the ferns. Now that would’ve been an interesting endeavour,” she joked, her smile sluggish and eyes dragged down by the dark circles underneath them.

Her boss shook her head at the mention of her clumsiness, “You’re a workers comp nightmare, you are,” she teased lightly, pausing slightly to eye her in concern, “just take it easy today, kiddo. Maybe stay away from all the prickly plants, okay?”

Alessia nodded her head silently, gladly taking on her boss’s advice.

It was a trying few weeks going back to work. Although she had started to get a bit more sleep each night, Alessia just couldn’t seem to shake the lingering fatigue that dragged her down every day. It was like all the energy she should’ve gotten from sleep each night was zapped right out of her as soon as she got up on her two legs in the morning.

“You sleeping alright, kiddo?” Linda had asked on one particular sluggish morning.

“Yeah, actually I’ve been sleeping fine now. But for some reason I’ve still been feeling so exhausted,” she expressed glumly whilst checking over orders.

“Oh no, that’s no good,” the silver haired lady tsked, “I hope you’re not coming down with something.”

Alessia paused thoughtfully at her words, “Maybe I am,” she considered, her head tilting slightly to the side, “I have been feeling a bit nauseous lately...”

“Hmm, might be the flu. Nothing a nip of apple cider vinegar can’t fix.”

She rolled her eyes at the older woman, “You and your apple cider vinegar,” she shook her head, “last time you told me it would cure my acne if I rubbed it on my face,” she remarked drily.

“You never know if you don’t try,” Linda sung as she finished tying a bow around a box of natives.

“I think I’ll just check in with my doctor first if it persists. Leave the vinegar as the last resort.”

Her boss clicked her tongue at her, shaking her head disapprovingly, “Stubborn one you are, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of home remedy from time to time,” she defended in a light tone.

“Yeah, well, I might not even need it anyway. This could just blow over any day now,” she pointed out, crossing her fingers in hope.

Unfortunately for Alessia, the nausea and fatigue did not ease up anytime soon. If anything, she felt like she was getting worse. The vomiting started about a week after her chat with Linda, prompting her to take time some time off work, much to the concern of her boss.

“Make sure to take some apple cider vinegar. It’ll help. Trust me.”

Alessia rolled eyes while on the phone with her. She sure was one persistent lady.

She lounged at home for the week, feeling absolutely miserable for herself. The urge to throw up always came at the most inconvenient times, whether it was three in the morning or one in the afternoon after just finishing her lunch. She always ended up right at the toilet bowl dispelling what was left in her stomach. It almost reminded her of that morning in London and she would relive the embarrassment moment all over again puking in Tom Holland’s toilet. She groaned as she rested her head on the porcelain seat. She did not need those memories to come back to her right now; being sick was enough torture.

For a couple days she finally felt like she was on the mend. She hadn’t had a spell of nausea for thirty-six hours. Her appetite returned full throttle with the craving of raspberry jam crumpets, for which she devoured a total of four in one sitting. She couldn’t be more relieved and satisfied that the worse was finally over and she called up work saying she would be back the next day. Her fatigue still hadn’t let up and she would get a few dizzy spells every now and then, but for the most part, Alessia felt fine enough to go back to her to work routine. She missed the flower shop too much; the colourful, cheerful atmosphere never failed to bring joy to her and the wonderful smell of lavender and roses would always lift her spirits. It was like a second home to her.

A couple weeks passed and aside from a few bouts of queasiness and persisting lethargy, Alessia was back in action and arranging bouquets like no other. She was considering going to her doctor to try and tackle this fatigue that never seemed to let up, but hadn’t found the time yet to arrange an appointment. She was keeping herself too busy. Well at least, that’s what her mother said.

“I worry about you, Lessie. You look tired. You never give enough time for yourself,” she remarked out of blue on their monthly lunch date, her eyebrows frowning down at her in concern.

Alessia sighed warily, not wanting to deal with her mother’s fussiness right now.

“I’m fine, Mum. I just think the combination of jet lag and getting sick must’ve overwhelmed my body for a bit,” she reassured as she bit into her chicken salad, “I’m fine,” she repeated. She hoped it would be enough to appease her. It was not.

Her mum observed her for moment, eyes running all over her face then coming back to peer into her soul. They squinted at her sceptically.

“I think you should see a doctor,” she said finally, prompting Alessia’s fork to clank down on her plate.

“Mum,” she whined, picking her fork back up and placing her other hand on her forehead to rub away the headache that was beginning to form.

“What? Don’t ‘Mum’ me. It’s been two months since you’ve come back from Europe, three weeks since you were sick with that bug, and you still aren’t well. That’s not normal, honey.”

“Fine. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll book an appointment with Doctor Cox,” Alessia grumbled petulantly, stabbing at her salad mindlessly. She was already planning on going to the doctors anyway, but for whatever reason, her mum bringing it up just suddenly made her not want to go now. It was that old ingrained trait of hers in always wanting to disobey everything her mother said. Alessia knew more than anyone that it was hard to shake that annoyance of being told what to do, even when reaching adulthood.

“You’ll book it for tomorrow,” her mother ordered with no room for question. Alessia groaned in frustration, flinging her hands up in the air at her bossiness.

“But I’ve got to clean my bathroom and kitchen tomorrow. Plus I was hoping to find some time to focus on my music, I haven’t played my keyboard since I got back from Europe and I finally have some inspiration to write something. Do you know how hard it is to get motivated to write?” she rambled on, trying to make up as many excuses as she could.

“Alessia,” her mum called out warningly, not taking any of her daughter’s bullshit. Her gaze was strong and deadly, and Alessia shivered knowing the potential wrath behind those eyes.

“Okay, I’ll make the appointment,” the daughter relented, shoulders slumping heavily and eyes closing as she let out a long drawn breath. Man, her mother could be trying at times.

She scheduled the appointment for the next morning, feeling oddly nervous for no apparent reason whilst driving to the clinic. Doctor Cox was a lovely dark woman in her mid forties, quick as a whip and as kind as the sun’s warmth on a spring morning. If anyone knew what was wrong her, it’d be Doctor Cox. As always, her raven hair was woven into a beautifully made braid and her eyes sported a pair of smart spectacles. She greeted Alessia with a warm smile, directing her patient to sit in the chair facing her desk.

“What can I do to help you today, Alessia?”

The girl in question scooted back into her chair, hands folded into each other, thumbs fiddling in her lap.

“Um, I’ve been feeling a bit tired lately, more so than usual. You see, I just came back from a trip in Europe a couple of months ago and had to adjust to the jet lag. So I thought the fatigue was just due to that...but the thing is, I’ve been getting plenty of sleep at night now, at least eight to nine hours worth, and I still I feel sluggish every single day,” she confessed. The doctor hummed thoughtfully, typing out notes on her computer, giving no indication of her thoughts.

“Are there any other symptoms present?”

“Uh, I did get sick about three weeks ago with a vomiting bug, and still get the occasional bouts of nausea and dizziness.”

The doctor nodded, her face still as blank as a canvas. Alessia could get no read on her whatsoever.

“How long did the vomiting occur?” she questioned whilst tapping the buttons on her keyboard like a speedster.

Alessia paused thoughtfully, trying to recall that horrid week,“About five to six days give or take, it was kinda off and on.”

The typing stopped suddenly.

“Off and on how so?” Doctor Cox clarified curiously, an eyebrow raised.

“Well one day I would be good, completely normal, and then the next morning I’d be puking my guts out. The vomiting kept on coming and going.”

“Uh huh,” she nodded, returning back to the computer to type some more, “and you said you were getting dizzy as well?”

Alessia nodded her head in confirmation, her right hand pinching her middle finger. She forgot how much she hated all the questions being thrown at her when being examined by a doctor. They just seemed to throw them nonstop.

“How often does the dizziness occur?”

“Um every now and then. Sometimes daily.”

“Have you ever fainted, or felt close to fainting?”

“I have felt faint yes, but haven’t actually blacked out.”

“Are you a vegetarian or vegan?”

“No, neither. I love meat too much. What would life be without bacon?”

“Yes what would life be,” she chuckled, “do you usually have a heavy blood flow when menstruating?”

She paused awkwardly at that one, squirming in her seat,“Um, yes. Usually for the first two or three days.”

“Hmm, okay...” she finished typing on her computer, “and are you sexually active?”

That nearly made Alessia fall out of her goddamn chair.

“Uh...come again?” she squeaked, her eyes wide and hand gripping tightly to the armrest beside her. Memories of London flashed by quickly in her mind; hungover, naked, lying next to a movie star.

“Have you been sexually active, as in recently had sexual intercourse?” the woman repeated calmly.

“Um...” her face flushed in embarrassment, her heart racing in panic, “I- I-” why did she have to ask that? How could that question possibly connect to her being sic- oh god. Oh fricken god. How could she be so stupid? Two months. It had been two fricken months.

“It’s okay, take your time. This is a private place, nothing gets outside of these walls, I promise,” the doctor reached over and placed a hand on her knee comfortingly, waiting patiently for her reply.

“I...” she gulped, her chest heaving as all the pieces started coming together. The tiredness, the nausea, the constant craving of crumpets, “I...um...I...” she was peeing more frequently. She had thought that it was just all the water she’d been drinking lately but...and her breasts! God her breasts had started to ache. She just figured it was a hormonal thing and that she was finally getting her period- god it couldn’t be- she couldn’t be-“...I lost my virginity recently,” she breathed.

Doctor Cox blinked in brief surprise and then adjusted glasses, her calm facade returning back promptly

“Oh. How recently exactly?” she asked cautiously.

Alessia breathed in deeply, closing her eyes, “Two months ago,” she murmured, her entire body slumping as she rubbed away the tension in between her eyes. She could already feel the tears burning beneath her eyelids.

“I see. And when did your last menstruating cycle end?” 

“A bit over two months,” she mumbled into her hands, her fingers dragging down her face whilst wiping away her sniffles. Her eyes became red with tears and chest heaved up and down, desperate for air, “am I...?” she croaked miserably, looking at her doctor for any answer that wasn’t what she was thinking.

“There’s no point in jumping to any conclusions just yet,” Doctor Cox interrupted, “I’d like to run some tests before we determine anything. There could be multiple diagnoses for the symptoms you possess and I don’t want to rush into things and make you panic about something that might not even be applicable to you in the first place,” she explained logically, spinning back to her computer, clicking on her mouse and typing a few keys, “I’m gonna write you up for a full blood count, a glucose level check and a hCG test. Basically these tests will tell us if there is any sign of a virus in your system, check how blood sugar level is going and test how high your hCG level is. Your iron count will also be measured which is what I’m most concerned about. A lot of woman, especially at your age, suffer from iron deficiency and your symptoms hint heavily at this diagnosis. However, with the information of your sexual activity and your last menstruation it does lead to the possible conclusion that you are...” the printer screeched back and forth, signalling the deliverance of the test referral, “...pregnant, Miss Carter,” the doctor sighed sympathetically, handing her over the form.

Alessia stared at it with watery eyes, her body unmoving as her doctor voiced the conclusion she had already come to in her own mind. It was finally out there. Pregnant. She could be pregnant. The girl now understood why she was so nervous about coming in today. It’s like subconsciously she already knew what would happen.

“Of course, we won’t know for sure until the test results come back. It should only take a couple days at the most. I’ll let you know as soon as they come in and we can arrange an appointment to discuss the results. All you have to do now is head down to pathology and they’ll run all the tests for you.”

She made no move to get out of her seat, still frozen on the chair and staring at the referral form in her hand. She stared at it but wasn’t actually seeing it, the words and boxes a complete blur to her. How did it get to this? How did she even let herself get into this situation? What the hell will she do? Pregnant. Pregnant. She was-

“As I said, Miss Carter, there’s no need to panic about something that isn’t confirmed yet. My best advice for you is get some rest, clear your mind and focus on the now’s, not the what if’s,” she spoke softly, standing up and placing her hand on her shoulder, “and if it’s any consolation, if the pregnancy test turns out to be positive, just know I’ll be there to help you every step of the way. I’ll answer any questions you have and help you arrange any appointments that you’ll need if it comes to the situation. You won’t be alone,” she reassured firmly, squeezing her shoulder.

Alessia nodded shakily, thankful for the doctor’s kind words and for helping her snap her out of her daze.

“Thank you,” she whispered, slowly standing up and making her way out of the room.

“I’ll speak to you soon,” Doctor Cox farewelled, her warm honey eyes conveying total calm.

Alessia nodded and waved at her awkwardly before making her way quickly out of the office and downstairs to pathology. The tests went by in a distorted haze. Normally she was absolutely terrified of needles, but today Alessia could barely feel the prick going into the crook of her elbow. She couldn’t even hear the voice of the chatty redheaded nurse taking her blood. Everything was submerged underwater. Cold. Quiet. Unnerving.

The drive home was a quick and direct route though she barely made it out alive, having several close calls with multiple cars and unexpected trees that she swear on her life came out of nowhere. Her keys rattled and clanked as she frantically searched for the right one to open her apartment. It took multiple attempts to finally get into the lock but eventually she got there and accidentally slammed the door a bit hard behind her. She couldn’t find it within herself to care in that moment.

She flopped immediately down on her couch, feet resting on one of the armrests and head tilted up towards the white ceiling. Snippets of waking up to a similar ceiling fluttered into her mind, all dazed and disoriented, the memories of the night before nonexistent, blacked out, erased. Her body aching and the warmth of an arm wrapped around her stomach...

That was where it all began. 

And now she was left in an agonising state of reliving that memory over and over again, nervously awaiting its consequences.

[goldenchildkatsuki]

Could you write a kacchako at the beach drabble?

Thank you so much for waiting!

Summary:  A continuation of ‘Red bike, purple Bellflower’, where Bakugou finally takes Uraraka to the beach.

Writers note: I asked on Tumblr to send a cliché fanfiction trope in my ask box and I would make a decent Kacchako drabble out of it. This is for the ninth ask I received. Someone asked me to write a beach drabble. And man, who would’ve thought I would ever make a sequel to 'Red bike, purple Bellflower’? I didn’t. But I sure enjoyed revisiting this version of Bakugou and Uraraka. This version is so packed with love and adoration and I loved writing it. (see the end for notes)

Word count: 8.292

AO3 link: (x)

WHITE SAND, BLUE RIBBON

“Don’t yawn, you’re making me yawn!”

Uraraka lazily put a hand in front of her mouth and blinked away the tears that were forming in her eyes.

“I can’t help it, it’s so early after all.” She moaned.

It had been a while since she had woken up before noon. Since it had been one of the warmest summers she had ever experienced she started living in the night when it was significantly colder and she didn’t feel sluggish.

After ten is when she came up with most of her ways to enliven her summer. Around the time where people would fold their chairs, get their last drink from their koolbox, switched from flip-flops to slippers and called it a day. Uraraka would lie down on the floor in the hallway, with their house phone on speaker next to her head and talk to Bakugou about all the things she felt like doing. She had been watching a lot of films lately, those ones where teenagers have the most outrageous summers. On one hand, it was comical, how extravagant those summers were. But on the other hand, she wouldn’t have minded being in their place. So it was only natural that most of her ideas were inspired by that.

Bakugou would laugh at her and tell her to lay off the films for a while. But he would still listen to her ramble on and on about them. He sometimes even thought along with her, thinking about if it was possible for them to do something like that, right at that moment. Uraraka would tell him it could be more likely than they thought, Bakugou would keep thinking. And there would always be a moment where he would stay silent for too long and he would suddenly hang up on her.

That’s when she knew she should probably get up and change out of her pajama’s and take a shower because it wouldn’t be long until he would be standing there with his bike laying on the curb. Often he would meet her there having done neither of those things.

“You sure smell great.”

“Oh shut it.”

They would sit down on the front doorstep and Bakugou would tell her his plans. They were less farfetched than hers, but came to close to what she wanted to do and were still fun. Since it would be past Uraraka’s curfew at that time, they were only allowed to go as far only two blocks away from her house. Bakugou could make it work. He had once dragged a shopping cart from someone’s front yard and managed to make it look somewhat like a car. Uraraka would sit in the cart and a paper plate would be her steering wheel. Bakugou pushed her through a drive-through just on the edge of the two-block area, as she squirmed that it was not going to work. Somehow they ended up ‘cruising’ away from the restaurant with two brown bags full of fries. Uraraka could hardly catch her breath.

They would also have water gun fights in her backyard with the sprinklers on and set up a hammock in between street signs and talk for hours on end.

Bakugou didn’t have a curfew, she thinks. Regardless of that he always ended up staying by her side until all the energy was drained from her body and she was nodding off. He would stay in her street until he saw her bedroom lights go off and then bike home. And the next day they would do the same.

Today, however, Bakugou was at her bedside at 8:30 in the morning. He threw her blankets off her and opened her curtains. Thinking she was getting ambushed she jolted up and jumped out of bed. She groaned as she saw it was just her boyfriend.

Actually, it wasn’t just her boyfriend, it was her boyfriend, in her room, at 8:30 in the morning.

“Oi sleepyhead, get dressed and grab some breakfast, we’re going to the beach today.” He said before quickly kissing her forehead and going downstairs.

Uraraka thought he was somehow joking at first but there they were, on a familiar long road, Bakugou pedaling and Uraraka on the carrier.

“My parents looked really happy to see you again,” Uraraka spoke softly to his back.

Bakugou stopped pedaling for a second and turned his head around. “You think?”

“Couldn’t you tell? They were almost late for work because they couldn’t stop talking to you.”

Bakugou’s cheeks turned pink and he turned back. Though he didn’t want to admit it, he cared a lot about what kind of impression he made on her parents. She thought they were one of the few people Bakugou actually worried about of what they thought of him. Uraraka tried to reassure him that even though they try to scare him with being overprotective, they absolutely adored him. He still found it hard to believe. But it was among those things that he was currently trying to work on.

And it was going well. Three weeks ago Uraraka wouldn’t even have known that Bakugou genuinely felt that way, it would’ve remained a simple guess of hers that would take her all of her might to confirm.

Uraraka hugged his waist tighter and mushed her cheek against his back.

“They love you.”

“Sure.”

“They really do.”

The boy leaned forward and picked up the pace. They had been on their way for only half an hour or so, maybe a bit longer? She thought they already passed the city sign at least. They had quite the journey ahead of them, therefore the early departure. Bakugou had properly planned the trip this time, unlike the first attempt to reach the beach by bike. He went out of his way to make them lunch, bring his own money along with the beach supplies they once bought. He knew the way and it knew exactly how long it would take them to reach the beach,

Three hours by bike to be exact.

However, it didn’t take a lot of Bakugou to calm Uraraka down when she heard that. The pillow on the carrier and the promise that they would take many breaks during the trip was all it took. She still felt slightly bad about Bakugou biking the entire way. Offering to switch was not an option since the boy had too much pride and was the most stubborn person she had ever encountered. So Uraraka decided that when they got to the beach, she would make sure they would have the best day the possibly could have. That wasn’t hard since she had waited for this day the entire summer. Heck, she even dreamed about this day.

“How are things with your parents?” Uraraka asked as she slowly blinked.

“They haven’t seen your round face in a while so they can’t shut up about you. Especially the old hag, she misses you a lot.”

“I should stop sleeping in so much.”

“You definitely should. I can’t have you falling asleep right now or else I’m going to be so fucking bored.” Bakugou scoffed.

Uraraka doubted Bakugou could get bored if she fell asleep. She might have thought that since she was getting close to dozing off and didn’t want to feel bad about doing so, but there was also no way he could get bored riding the long and empty road. The atmosphere felt grand to her, the silence wasn’t deafening but it was peaceful, the scenery wasn’t annoyingly repetitive but a very welcomed sight. She thought it was almost impossible for him to not feel what she felt.

And if for some reason it was. Then her presence should be enough. It had proven to be many times.

She placed her hands on Bakugou’s lower back and began to graze her fingernails along and across it slowly, to make up for her nodding off in a small moment from now. He adjusted and leaned into her touch. If they were anywhere else he would’ve been sleeping as well, in a matter of seconds. The longer Uraraka went on the slower their pace became.

She hoped Bakugou’s eyes weren’t closing like hers were. Her fingers started to droop of his lower back and slid to the end of his shirt, which she loosely clung onto. Her body let itself give in to the tiredness and with all of her weight, she leaned against Bakugou. She felt his muscles move beneath her cheeks, stretching and loosening themselves. The tempo and the rhythm lulling her to sleep.

Uraraka didn’t manage to rest her eyes for long. Bakugou had been leaning in all different directions and holding onto her every time she shifted, trying to make sure she wouldn’t summersault of the back of the bike. Causing her to be in a light state of sleep for the majority of the time, waking up every few minutes or so, and jerking because she kept forgetting where she was.

Her boyfriend cursed under his breath and mumbled to himself to keep himself entertained. After some time he seemed to be at a loss for words, last syllables of his words were spoken inaudibly. That’s when she decided to force herself to wake up. As she moved into sitting upwards Bakugou pulled at her shirt. Quickly she pinched his sides and tried to look over his shoulder.

“I’m awake.”

“Good, I was about to wake you up anyways.”

Her eyes had to get used to the sun that was getting higher and chattering started to fill her ears. Looking around she saw a scenery she was familiar with and had a good idea of where their first break was going to be. The town was quite lively for this time a day, many had decided to run their errands and get together early in the day.

It felt like she hadn’t moved a mile. Like she was still at home. She had no idea a place other than her house could make her feel that way. Maybe it was because of Bakugou. Maybe it was because she was convinced that she fitted in here. Not just her as a person, but her dreams, fantasies and ideas, her future. They all worked in this town. Something she had never felt back in her hometown. It made sense to be here. Ever since they first rode in.

She tried to explain to Bakugou how she felt, it was hard to translate her feelings into something that wasn’t vague and to give it to him straight because yes, it was strange. She never expected Bakugou to completely understand since he said her thoughts sounded stupid the first time she voiced them. But Uraraka had the feeling he could see where she was coming from, just a little. And maybe he felt the same, just a little.

He was more than happy to bike her to the town whenever she missed it. He didn’t care if they had to travel 13 miles just to grab a bite to eat or go for a walk in the park. Bakugou was fine with whatever. They made a promise after all. They promised to come back at least once but it wouldn’t hurt to come back as often as two, three times a week, right?

As they biked on the broad main road of the town Uraraka had started to recognize people’s faces. And at the way they looked back at her, it made her feel that they recognized her too. What could they be thinking about them? They could be asking themselves if they had perhaps moved here since Uraraka smiled and greeted the locals as if she had.

The short, blonde girl with the colorful bows in her hair was chalking in front of her house again. The woman who’s always carrying too many things has managed to drop a carton of milk right after exiting the supermarket.

Just like she got to know the people, she got to know the town, which wasn’t that difficult considering the size of it. Bakugou and her have inspected pretty much every nook and crevasse of it and now know their way around as if they were born and raised here.

A week and a half ago, they discovered something. Uraraka knew that they were headed there again. As he predicted Bakugou came to a halt in front of an empty plot of land, surrounded by a metal fence. The weeds had started to grow next to the poles of the fence and more sand had been blown onto the sidewalk. Uraraka slid off the carrier and sat down on the ground. Bakugou parked his bike against the fence, went up behind her and unzipped the backpack she had been carrying. Over her head, he handed her a fruit sandwich and a bottle of water and then sat down next to her. Bakugou was barely panting, which was quite remarkable considering all the trouble he went through of getting Uraraka to stay seated on the carrier. He probably didn’t need a break yet. He had biked this distance a lot of times by now and it seemed to get shorter every time.

But he knew Uraraka would’ve asked him to stop by anyways.

He was very hungry though. Devouring his sandwiches in a matter of minutes and chugging down his water as if that was the first drink he had that day.

“Did mom make these?” Uraraka asked.

“Yeah.”

“I thought so. You always put in more strawberries than kiwi’s.”

“Because kiwi is fucking disgusting and should not even be classed as edible.” Bakugou scowled as he glared at Uraraka’s half-eaten sandwich.

Uraraka giggled. “You’re dramatic.”

“And you don’t have working taste buds.” he went through his hair with his hand and scratched the back of his head, where the hair had started to grow back.

Uraraka stayed silent and continued eating, turned around and looked across the empty plot of land. If they were a couple of years older and had a bit of money, this would be theirs. At the border of the town, they would build their home from scratch. And it would look like any other house in the town, it would look like it had always been there. They would have a green front yard and backyard, surrounded by a white picket fence. Undoubtedly that would get broken at some point, and Bakugou would fix it again, give it a new coat of white paint even and it would like nothing ever touched it.

She wanted large windows, Bakugou hated them. Bakugou wanted a garage that fits two cars, Uraraka thought one of them was enough. So they discussed what kind of house they wanted to build on the piece of land. Uraraka would do most of the talking since Bakugou struggled to get his words out. It was quite a sensitive topic after all. By speaking about it they confirmed their bond to last for years and years and that’s not something that rolls of the tongue easily for a person that continues to find it hard to put his emotions into words.

It was fine with her if he mostly listened, and give his opinion when she asked for it.

“If you keep changing your mind I will never be able to fucking finish this you know?”

“I can’t help it!” Uraraka laughed as she playfully bumped her shoulder against Bakugou’s to make his frown disappear.

She could imagine how frustrating it was, to keep erasing and adding new things to the drawings and the blueprints. Bakugou planned to be an architect, and since he didn’t have the patience to wait until he learned about it after he graduated,  he read the books his dad had displayed in the bookcase in his office. Since the day they first talked about the house he started practicing drawing, by using the house they had in mind. It was meant to stay a secret until her birthday came up, but it slipped out when Uraraka changed placing of the windows for the third time, causing Bakugou to lose his mind and reveal her present in anger.

It was the quite possibly the best present she had yet to receive. Uraraka was completely over the moon when Bakugou explained himself. She was eager to see the progress since her boyfriend rarely showed his designs and all she could remember was the scribbles he made when he was a few years younger, and those were not exactly the best of drawings. She also wanted to help, seeing as it was a thing that was essentially theirs. But of course, she wasn’t allowed. It was her present. Uraraka decided to ask her dad, for his books on architecture instead, whilst awkwardly avoiding the exact reason why, and lent them to Bakugou. That was her way of helping.

“Is it actually close to being done?” Uraraka curiously asked.

“Do I look superhuman to you? Of course not! It’s going to take a lot of time before it’s actually done done. When I go to university I’m going to alter it with the shit I learned, make it even better.”

The girl sighed and cupped her own face. “Bummer.”

“Though, it would be done sooner if you would stop changing your damn mind all the time.” Bakugou teased.

“Hey!”

He mischievously grinned as Uraraka glared at him with puffed up pink cheeks. Her face quickly softened which Bakugou’s cheeky smile always managed to do to her. When she broke out in a giggle he started packing up all their stuff and putting it back in Uraraka’s backpack. He offered his hand to help her stand up and she gave the land one more look before walking back to the bike.

The two had one more stop to make before they could leave town and continue their journey. Uraraka felt tingles all over her body as if she laid down in a field of high grass when she saw the purple colored front garden of the old people’s home. What was once merely just a bed was now a small field of bellflowers. Th eyecatchers looked healthy and beautiful and made the white frames of the window really stand out. And to think this was the result of her work.

Today they had put the rocking chair outside and the old lady that had waved at them the first time they passed through the town was smiling from ear to ear the second she heard the rattling of the card in the spokes. Even she looked healthier and more beautiful than usual.

Uraraka jumped off the bike before it came to a stop and rushed to the porch.

“Good morning Suzuki, have you been admiring the garden this morning?”

The woman slowly nodded, closed her eyes and let the sun shine on her face.

“Enjoying the sun as well I see, today is a lovely day after all. Bakugou and I are going to spend it at the beach!” Uraraka looked back at Bakugou who sat waiting on his bike in front of the home.

Suzuki slightly opened her eyes and looked at Bakugou. She slightly opened her mouth and took her hand from underneath her blanket to raise it in greeting. She managed to create a small noise.

Uraraka had come to learn that the woman was mute. When watering the bellflowers one day like she always did when they came to town, a caretaker approached her with Suzuki attached at her arm. The caretaker explained that how Suzuki had been watching the bellflowers get watered and waved at them every time they left, how she wanted to properly meet Uraraka and Bakugou.

Uraraka felt flattered in a way, that a stranger wanted to meet them. After shaking hands with the both of them they sat on the porch and talked for a long time. That day the caretaker translated Suzuki’s sign language for the two kids, the other times Suzuki wrote in her notebook what she wanted to say.

Apparently, Bakugou looked exactly like the boy she fell in love with on her first day of high school, and Uraraka reminded her of her sister, who also admired flowers and plants and whom Suzuki loved very dearly.

Suzuki arranged for Uraraka to have a watering-can, which was much needed since the bellflowers had started to spread and a bottle of water wasn’t enough anymore. She would sit there and watch Uraraka do her thing with the most content smile on her face.

Besides seeing them two, she liked drawing, which she was very good at. She liked cherries, especially cherry jam. She liked old sports cars with pretty bold colors, just like the shiny red of Bakugou’s bike. She liked nature and she wished there were more plants inside of the home. But since a couple of elders reacted badly to them, Suzuki had to admire them from a distance.

Uraraka watched Suzuki take her time to scribble a sentence down in her notebook on her lap.

“Has it really been that long since you’ve been to the beach? Don’t you want to go someday?”

She shook her head and continued writing.

“You can’t imagine leaving this place? Well, I can’t really blame you, especially since the garden is looking so beautiful now!” Uraraka chirped.

She went to the side of the house to fill the water-can to the brim and showered the plants in the cold water. Bakugou walked past her to Suzuki that waved him over, after glancing over the notebook he disappeared inside and came back with another notebook, this one bigger.

The woman beamed and held the book to her chest until Uraraka approached her.

“What’s this?” curiosity gleamed in her eyes as she glanced from back and forth between the two faces in front of her.

“She wants to give something to you,” Bakugou explained.

Suzuki flipped the book open and revealed a beautiful piece of hand-drawn artwork of Uraraka watering the flowers in a sundress and Bakugou leaning against the fence, watching her. It was so accurate it made Uraraka and Bakugou’s jaw drop. The folds in Uraraka’s dress, the expression on Bakugou’s face, all so neatly done it might as well have been a picture.

“My blueprints are like a kid’s drawing compared to this. She’s totally outdone me.” Bakugou mumbled.

Uraraka chuckled and took a hold of the drawing. With her thumb, she stroked over the signature and thanked the elderly woman for her gift. Carefully she handed it back over, explaining that If they would bring it to the beach with them it would get ruined. She promised that she would come and collect it on the way back. Once more she thanked Suzuki and expressed how beautiful the drawing was.

She gave her a hug, told Suzuki she would be back soon and walked with Bakugou back to the bike. Suzuki waved them goodbye as the two continued their journey.

When they biked out of town it was 10:45 and had to travel for another two hours. Bakugou was feeling pretty energized and was boasting about how he could probably cut fifteen minutes of the trip. Uraraka simply hummed after every sentence, her head in the clouds and her thoughts hazy as she kept seeing the drawing in front of her.

It didn’t take long before her boyfriend demanded her full attention. Jokingly swerving around the road to keep her in the moment. She yelped and took a handful of his shirt as he laughed and asked her to at least properly pretend to listen to him. Even though after his antics Uraraka properly listened to him, he kept swerving, to make sure she was.  

He needed to be kissed. He tended to act up when he was touch starved. In moments like this, his craving for her attention seemed endless but all he really wanted was some physical affection. Like a baby that didn’t get too much sleep he could get cranky, or like a playful child, he could act silly. This time he went for the latter and did so in a rather dangerous manner.

So for their safety, and for that reason only. Uraraka practically demanded the boy to stop at the side of the road, went to stand in front of him and kissed the silly out of him. The longer they went on the more annoying the bike in between them was. Uraraka laughed against Bakugou’s lips as he awkwardly tried to step of it and throw it to the side. But before he could trade in ‘silly’ for ‘annoyed with a large amount of lust’ she pulled away.

She stuck her tongue out as Bakugou frowned and went back to her seat. They resumed the journey with Uraraka teasing Bakugou for the cute habit he had and him fully denying that this happened regularly.

‘A stupid coincidence.’

A stupid coincidence that has stopped him from going from one side of the road to the other.

The landscapes started to slightly change and both of them started to question each other if they’ve ever seen something like it. It’s been a while since either of them had been this far out of town and when they were it was by car. They were either sleeping during the journey or not paying attention, so now the teens were ogling at the land, pointing out things that stood out the most to them.

More and more cars started to pass them by and Uraraka’s eyes got itchy from the dust they left behind. Bakugou kept cursing at them, speeding up every time one past them by.

At this rate, it looked like he was truly going to cut the trip short by fifteen minutes.

After the conversations died down, Uraraka asked how many songs it would take them before they got to their destination. ‘Ten or nine songs’, Bakugou answered. And so she kept humming songs from start till finish. She only knew a few songs by heart. After the fourth song, she kept repeating her favorite song at the moment, which happened to be in the soundtrack of her favorite films she ha watched this summer, maybe even her favorite film ever. By the eight time Bakugou softly hummed along with her. He did it so softly she only noticed by the vibrations that went through his back to her arms.

The tenth time Bakugou didn’t hum along since he was busy fighting the steep rocky road they were on. The sun was getting close to it’s highest point and the beach breezes weren’t cool at all. He damned the absurd increase in temperature and the annoying screeching seagulls that were zooming over their heads.

Uraraka started singing, to distract Bakugou from them, to encourage him, hopefully, cheer him up. They were so close after all. So close to the bright blue of the ocean, the jam-packed beach, filled with parasols and towels.

The pedals had to go around just a few times and they would rocket down the hill and be down there in no time.

Two times around, one time around.

And there they went, the bike went so fast Uraraka had to close her eyes. When she blinked her eyes open she met one of the most amazing sights she had ever seen. She wasn’t seeing this on a television screen, she was inside the tv, she was there.

“Finally,” Bakugou said, rubbing the sweat off his chin.

Uraraka jumped off to let him park the bike among the mass of vehicles. Impatiently she hopped from one foot to another when other visitors past her, like her they were all smiles. The second Bakugou turned around she already started skipping towards the beach. As soon as she reached the sand she kicked her flip-flops off and dipped her toes in the sand that was too hot to stand still in.

Before she could sprint as fast as she could into the sea to cool down her toes that felt like they were getting deep fried, Uraraka got tugged back out of the sand by her backpack.

“Fucking hell, don’t go running off like that! I don’t want to spend the day searching the entire beach looking for you.”

“But-!”

“I get you’re excited, but let’s get it together now.”  

He pulled her back once more and threw his arm around her.

“The first one to find an empty spot has to buy the other ice cream,” Bakugou said.

Uraraka jolted and scanned the beach. It looked like it couldn’t be any more full. Like half the country decided to go to the beach today. Just when she was about to give up, she spotted a tiny bit of space between towels and pointed at it. At the same time, Bakugou did.

“A tie!”

“Pink cheeks, I don’t do ties. We’ll have to settle this one later.”

Bakugou kicked his own flip-flops off and together they walked over towels, legs, underneath parasols and avoiding koolboxes to the empty spot. Jumping from foot to foot they unloaded. Uraraka threw down the towels as Bakugou went to pluck out a random parasol to put over their heads. She kicked off her denim shorts and with her fingers, she went underneath and along the lines of her blue and white striped bathing suit. With a loud groan, she fell down on her towel and flung her backpack on her lap. She took out sunglasses and Bakugou’s cap which she put on backwards.

A large shadow cast over her and a shirt got chucked next to her in the sand. Bakugou sat down next to her on his towel and bent over to feel his feet. As he was bent over Uraraka took the opportunity to put sunscreen on him.

The boy was still too exhausted to refuse it like he usually did. For some reason, he didn’t want to admit he wasn’t tougher than the sun and did, in fact, get burned very easily. At least now when they’re laying next to each other tonight he wouldn’t moan and complain about burned areas on his body and she could hug him as tightly as she wanted.

After spending more time than needed on his shoulders, Uraraka went to sit in front of him and raised his face. She went around his nose with her ring fingers, rubbing his cheeks and the bridge of his nose with her thumbs, rubbing the folds of his frown away. The remaining bit of sunscreen she carelessly wiped across his chest and stomach.

Bakugou followed her hands with his eyes when she smeared her arms and legs in, face flushed red from either the heat or her. He looked away to the ocean when she glanced at him.

“Oi.” He suddenly said after a while.

“Hm?” Uraraka replied.

He placed his hand on her neck and pulled her in close. Uraraka’s eyes started darting from his eyes that were focused on her, to their surroundings. She felt her cheeks get even hotter by the sudden display of affection.

He came in closer, slowly shutting his eyes. Quickly she shut hers and waited for the touch.

“The first one in the ocean has to buy the other ice cream.”

“What?”

Uraraka’s eyes shut open, and before she even got another word out he tried to pull her backwards. She pushed his smug face away and tried to stand up, but Bakugou pulled her back by the hips and launched himself off his towel. Uraraka adjusted her hat and ran after him, careful not to kick sand in anyone’s face or get hit in the face by a beach ball. She could see all the annoyed looks Bakugou was getting from a distance. Since all he cared about was replacing the tie with a victory, he didn’t even look twice at all the people that got sand on them because of him.

Uraraka tried to speed up, lifting her knees up higher so her feet wouldn’t get stuck in the heavy sand. She was getting closer to him, she could probably just about pass him where the waves were crashing.

He turned around, started running backwards, that confident he was going to win. Oh, how she couldn’t wait to see his stupid face after her foot first touches the water.

“You better-WAIT!” Uraraka yelled at Bakugou.

Backwards he bulldozered through a sandcastle, completely destroying every tower and almost tripping over the canal.

The girl cursed and went to stand beside Bakugou. Together they stared in silence at a sorry lump of sand.

“…If we go now then…” Bakugou murmured.

He turned around and staring at his legs was a little boy with the most devastated look on his face. With a bucket full of sand in one hand and beach shovel in his other.

“Oh no,” Bakugou whispered.

The kid dropped his utensils and tears started appearing in his eyes. He started sniffling and hiccupping, then he sharply breathed in to belt out one of the loudest cries a kid could make. So loud it could pop eardrums.

Uraraka kneeled down beside him to calm him down but then the tantrum started. He stepped forward to kick Bakugou’s shins and punch his knees, barely getting his words out as he did so. As Bakugou tried to back away from the attack he went to step on the broken castle again, making the kid even more upset.

“Bakugou get off the castle!” Uraraka tried to yell above the screaming.

“Get that tiny gremlin away from me then!”

She went in between the two, dodging kicks and held on to the little boy’s fists. He instantly cut his screaming off and looked at her with wide eyes.

“Can we stop the kicking now please?” Uraraka asked him, making her voice as sweet as her mother’s voice.

The boy pointed at Bakugou. “B-b-but he d-destroyed my sandc-castle!” He hiccupped.

Uraraka dried his face and hushed him as he was about to start crying again.

“It was for the contest. Now I’m definitely going to lose. And I already told mommy I was going to win!”

She looked around the beach and only then noticed that there were surprisingly many sandcastles being built all across the beach. How this one was the only one Bakugou trampled over baffled her.

“We can help you rebuild your sandcastle for the contest if you want?”

“Uraraka!”

“Bakugou!…and I would love to help you if you let us.” Uraraka glared at Bakugou.

The child pulled at the strings of his red swimming shorts and took his time to think it over.

“You can help me, but he can’t. He’ll just ruin it with his big ugly feet!”

Uraraka sensed that Bakugou was close to flying past her and launching the kid into the ocean, so she laughed his comment away.

“He won’t! He’s actually really good at building sand castles. He wants to help to build a lot of things when he’s older. Right Bakugou?”

“Yes.” He gritted his teeth.

“So you’ll be good at helping us, won’t you?” Uraraka asked.

“Sure.”

She smiled at the little boy. “Is that okay with you?”

He nodded.

“So what’s your name little guy?”

“Kaito.”

She took his hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you Kaito! My name is Uraraka Ochako and that’s my boyfriend Bakugou Katsuki.”

Uraraka handed the bucket and the shovel back to him, she stood up and pointed forwards. “We’re going to get first place alright?”

Kaito looked back at what used to be his sandcastle and then back at Uraraka. He pointed his shovel in front of him and smiled.

“Yes! We’re going to win!”

The kid ran closer to the ocean and plopped down, determinedly shoveling wet sand into his bucket.  

Uraraka went over to loosen Bakugou’s crossed arms, she held his hands and stared at him until he turned his face back to her.

“Thank you for being civil.”

“Whatever, let’s build this stupid castle.”

They crouched down and inspected the remains, looking if there was anything they could salvage. But to their disappointment, there really wasn’t. The kid had a good thing going too. Bakugou suggested that they fill up the canals and make the surface flat again for a fresh start. Then he ordered Uraraka to draw a big circle around them, that being the new canals. This might not be exactly how he wanted to spend his day at the beach but if this is what they were doing, he wanted to do it well.

It was a competition after all and since he had all the knowledge about buildings, losing was definitely not an option.

When Kaito collected enough sand he waddled back and told them more about the contest. The competition was for kids ages four to ten and were allowed help from parents. But the child was so determined to do it on his own and impress his mother that he refused her help. They had a little less than three hours before the competition ended and the sandcastles would be judged.

Kaito had a castle in mind that was as large as him, with a lot of towers and a bridge that goes over the canal. He wanted tunnels through the castle and windows to place his little figurines behind. And of course, he wanted the castle to have a flag on top.

As he got excited about his plans, Uraraka saw Bakugou’s facial expression change from bitter to thoughtful. He started pulling his bottom lip, meaning he was actually deep in thought. Before Uraraka could praise Kaito for his wonderful ideas, her boyfriend jumped in and added a few suggestions of his own. He talked about possible additions and adjustments, promising the kid a certain victory if they did it that way.

Using words like ‘bigger’, ‘cooler’ and ‘more awesome’, caught the child’s attention.

So they created a building plan that was still very much Kaito’s but strengthened with Bakugou’s knowledge of architecture.

The way Bakugou spoke about the castle even got her fired up. Uraraka would be lying if she said she hadn’t become almost as excited as Kaito.

“Mr. Bakugou, you really do know a lot about building castles!” Kaito chirped at him as he smoothened a tower.

“Are you going to build a real castle someday? When you become an archimetecturer?”

“Sort of.” He replied.

It made her heart flutter.

The child kept asking Bakugou all sort of questions, now that he had forgiven him and warmed up to him. Chatted his ears off whilst giving him and Uraraka commands. Bakugou replied with short answers, mostly because he hadn’t had many conversations with kids and had no idea what to say. Uraraka could tell he was starting to find it less and less of a nightmare and started to actually like the kid that started to think the world of him.

The innocence, broad fantasy and brutal honesty managed to crack Bakugou up every once in a while. She wondered if Bakugou also saw the similarities between the two. It was a sight, she had to admit. Really thinking about it, she had mostly been staring with a dopey look on her face then doing much building.

They were halfway done when Kaito’s mother came to check on him. Obviously surprised at first when she saw her son hanging around two teenagers but as Uraraka did the explaining she became less nervous. She was even able to chuckle at the whole situation.

The mother thanked them more than enough times for taking care of her son and told them she was rooting for them. Lovingly she placed a kiss on Kaito’s temple and returned to her towel.

“You sure have a great mommy Kaito,” Uraraka said.

“She’s the best! She always tells me how awesome I am, reads me stories before bed and gets me ice cream whenever I want.”

He turned to Bakugou. “What about your mommy’s?”

Uraraka felt her heart skip a beat, she had no idea how Bakugou was going to answer. She knew things were getting better between him and his parents but it wasn’t like everything was fine. There were still bad days. Days that he had to get out of the house again. But those days went much differently then they used to. Bad days had turned into a bad few hours.

“My mom’s alright. She also gets me ice cream and sh-.”

“Ice cream and sugar honey ice tea.” Bakugou corrected himself. “But sometime’s she’s not so alright. And then I go to my second mom, she doesn’t live so far away, she’s always good to me. But she’s not my mom. Nothing can compare to my mom.”

Wow.

He had grown so much. Never in a million years did Uraraka think that would come out of Bakugou’s mouth. Or at least not now and to a stranger for that matter. Maybe he was just able to say it like that because it was a child that asked an innocent question that couldn’t be left unanswered. Or maybe because he knew Kaito wouldn’t look too deep into it, only really taken in his first sentence. Whatever motivated Bakugou to say that out loud, she was proud.

Could it be that he was finally getting used to saying things out loud?

Uraraka wanted to ask him a million other questions. When he started seeing Uraraka’s mom as his second mom and if he has ever told his mom how much he actually admired her. Did he even notice his own development, could he tell by how tight she was gripping her shovel how proud she was of him?

But instead she said:

“Yeah, my mom is alright too.”

At this point, when Kaito stood next to the castle it only needed a few more towers to reach his height. The canal had been dug out and filled with water and some of the windows already had little people standing behind them.

They all agreed it still needed something more, and Uraraka was the one to think of shells, that could easily decorate the castle. The two boys groaned as they couldn’t believe how they didn’t think of that.

“Of course, how the frick could we forget!” Bakugou said.

“Do you think we’re going to find enough shells before the contest ends?”  Kaito shot a worried look at Uraraka.

She picked up a white shell she had brought back from the shore when she had to collect water for the canal. Held it in between two fingers and smiled from ear to ear.

“Don’t worry boys. I’ve seen a lot of these lying around. We’re going to be fine, just leave it to me!”

The pouts slowly disappeared and their eyes widened. Mouths a little agape but neither of them could bring themselves to say a word. They kept staring at her for so long it made her smile even brighter, making her cheeks almost push her eyes shut.

When picking up a bucket and running off she could hear them whispering.

“Your girlfriend is really pretty and cool.”

“I know.”

Uraraka came back with a more than satisfactory amount of pretty seashells and took it upon herself to decorate the towers as Bakugou was circling the castle looking for last adjustments they could make in the remaining ten minutes.

She had to say it looked pretty impressive. When looking for shells she had a quick look around and it had made her more and more confident that they were going to win.

Bakugou picked up Kaito so he could put the flag on the top tower that was higher up then they originally intended it to be. The kid excitedly jumped up and down as soon as his feet touched the sand again, clapping in his little hands and whooping. Uraraka couldn’t help but clap as well.

The judges started to make their rounds around the beach at three o'clock exact. The closer they came how more tense the three became. They became fidgety and kept looking back at the castle as if it would collapse behind their back at any second.

“I don’t even know what I’m going to do if we don’t win,” Bakugou whispered in Uraraka’s ear.

“Nothing too violent I hope.”

“Something between lashing out and homicide.”

“I can’t even say anything because in your eyes that truly is ‘not too violent’.”

When the judges arrived at their castle, they immediately had a good reaction. Some good ‘ooh!’s’ and ‘wow!’s’ came from them. They continued to walk around in circles in a clump and mumble things only they seemed to understand. It looked so silly when given it much thought since they were taking it far too seriously for a contest for children.

After scribbling a few things down on a form, one of the judges took two polaroid picture of them in front of the castle, left one with them and then went to the next castle.

As soon as the judges were far enough away, Kaito dropped his cool and repeatedly tugged at Bakugou swimming shorts and Uraraka’s bathing suit.

“And, and, and? Do you think they liked it? Do you think we’ll win?! What if we don’t win?!”

Uraraka looked at the picture, still catching color. She couldn’t help but giggle at Kaito’s obvious wobbly smile and the tight grip of Uraraka’s hand. And that to think that this was the boy that had been so confident the whole time.

Bakugou kneeled down before Kaito.

“Hey…hey! Look at me. Don’t start crying. What did you tell us?”

The child rubbed his eyes. “That we were going to win.” He said softly.

Bakugou raised his chin and turned away. “What did you say?”

“That we were going to win!” Kaito yelled.

He pat him on the back.

“That’s the spirit kid.”

They ended up coming second place.

They got handed blue ribbons as they watched the kid that snatched first place get a small trophy and a children’s surfboard. Uraraka could almost hear Kaito’s heart break when they handed the prizes over. When Bakugou took his time to argue with a judge over the points they received Uraraka pinned the ribbon to Kaito’s swimming shorts.

“Well that was a bit unexpected, wasn’t it? I thought we had this one.” She awkwardly started a conversation with the boy that had a gloomy look on his face.

As she expected, he didn’t reply to her.

She thought hard of how to cheer up the devastated kid, luckily the answer came walking up to them.

“Oh Kaito, did you win?” His mother asked.

He turned his hip to show the ribbon.

“No mommy, we didn’t win.”

“We should’ve!” Bakugou growled as he threw back the pen on the judge’s clipboard and walked back to them.

Kaito’s mother picked up her son and laughed at his clouded face.

“There’s no reason to be so sad sweetheart! You still made a really good castle, you still won a prize. And you know you’ll always be my number one right?”

Kaito’s lip started trembling. “Really?”

“Of course! Always and forever. Now cheer up okay? You don’t want these two to see you sad the last time they see your face?”

The little boy nestled his mother’s neck and hugged her tight.

“No take back’s mommy!”

“No take backs!” the woman laughed.

He then continued to struggle out of his mother’s arms and walked right up to two teenager’s feet.

“Thank you Mr. Bakugou and Mrs. Uraraka. I had a lot of fun.”

Uraraka wrapped her arm around Bakugou and looked up at him.

“No problem, we had a lot of fun too, didn’t we?”

Bakugou wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “'Guess you could say that.”

He smirked at her and kissed her on her smile.

“Gross!” Kaito smeared out the word.

He scrunched up his face and ran back to his mother, hiding behind her legs.

“Get over it kid.”

The mother laughed at the scene, picked her son up and thanked the two again for taking such good care of her son, hoping it wasn’t too much trouble.

Bakugou and Uraraka waved it off, saying they genuinely did have fun.

Kaito and his mother left the two behind at the sandcastle.

They only had three hours left before they should start heading home, both of them determined to make the most of that little time. Heading into the water as fast as they could as soon as the child and his mother disappeared from their sight.

Bakugou had to pay for Uraraka’s ice cream.

In the water, they played and fooled around. Let the waves that crashed onto shore take them along and tickle them with the white foam of the sea. Tightly they held onto to the blue ribbon, attached to their swimming suits, not intending on losing their prize today.

Uraraka’s eyes got prickly, her fingers were wrinkly and all of the kisses she shared with Bakugou tasted like salt. The cut in her lip burned with every impact, but she could not resist the urge to put her lips on his. Not when his skin had started to turn into a beautiful golden-brown color, not when a romantic shade of the sun started to drown his face, making her squint at her so innocently.

She kept thinking about how much she loved him.

How much she loved the way he looked, how much she loved him for taking her here.

This was better than any film she ever watched.

Writers note:  

“Suzuki”, meaning: From Japanese 鈴 (suzu) meaning “bell” and 木 (ki) meaning “tree, wood”.“Kaito”, meaning: Sea, Ocean.

[gdiwes]

Food Soul OC Bio: Minestrone Soup

It’s another long one haha Gonna just keep them separate from the Food Soul images from now one anyway. 

Mild TW for body horror/mutilation, so take caution reading!!

Prologue: You’ll Be An Experiment

When I was summoned, it was in a cold dark room. Through my clothing I could feel the chill. My bones hurt even though I hadn’t even moved. At the time I didn’t have a word for it, but now I can relate the chill to frostbite. 

A woman greeted me as I came to from my long slumber. The first words from her mouth I processed were, “you as a Food Soul shall be my test subject. Now, shall we start the experiment?” 

Every day with that woman was hell. The schedule my body adjusted to was torturous: I would wake up alone and drag myself through the chilly halls to her laboratory. She would greet me cheerfully and always offer coffee, despite me not needing food or drink. Then I would resign myself to her experiments. Weather she was injecting me with some strange serum or cutting into my body and watching me heal slower and slower each time I could never guess that day. I was privy to the whims of her imagination. 

Before I knew it, my skin was littered with scars and cuts. According to the records from the Academy, Food Souls couldn't be “hurt” by human weapons. They could wound us, but we would always heal. I guess whatever she injected me with weakened me enough to be permanently scared by a weapon that wasn’t a Fallen Angel, or another Food Soul. 

Sometimes she would put me into some strange mask and I would pass out. When I woke up, some part of my body would be sore and my skin would be a different texture and color. I always instantly knew that it wasn’t mine, and the energy that infected my body made me realize the parts were from Fallen Angels. 

Ah, what a horrible feeling. 

Although, the dreams I had while I was asleep, of a white-haired woman standing over me and smiling… I didn’t know what they were but with every procedure I allowed myself to sink a little deeper into each fantasy, hoping to never wake up. 

Chapter 1: Minus One 

My first mission. I was already sluggish from the treatments and serums injected into my body earlier that day. I felt as though I had a fever and a terrible cold at the same time, and pushing myself to move was putting a strain on my body I’d never felt before. 

There were four other Food Souls and their Master Attendants with me. All of them were from the Academy. We were supposed to fight a powerful Fallen Angel today and defeat it, but I could already tell it would be my last fight. One of my comrades leaned close to me. 

“Will you be okay to fight?” 

“My Master says so, so I must be,” I answered, but I don’t think I made any sense.

As we arrived to a clearing outside of a cave, my legs gave out from under me. The Food Soul who spoke to me earlier was quick to catch me, but before we could interact more a massive red beast dove out of the cave. She grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the way. As we got into formation, adrenaline started flooding through me which knocked the sluggishness right out of my body, at least enough that I could stand on my own. I drew my daggers to prepare for a long fight. 

The beast was powerful, pushing us to our limits and then past that. I watched one of our companions be brutally cut down, vanishing into light before his body even hit the ground. All of us were scared, but we had to win. If we couldn’t kill it, we had to beat it back. But was it really possible with just the five of us? 

“Soup, watch out!!” 

While I was lost in thought I didn’t notice the beast swing at me. My still-sore body couldn’t move fast enough and I only managed to get far enough out of the way to save my vitals in the core of my body. 

Sharp claws sliced through my side. I didn’t precisely know where I was feeling pain from, but all I knew is that I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t feel part of my arm. Thrown to the floor where I lay face down choking on my own blood, I wished that I would die. 

As I blacked out, I saw the woman with white hair again. This time her face was clear as she reached out to me. She was crying. 

Chapter 2: Pulte

One day, the Master returned from the academy with a new Food Soul at her side. He was taller than me, with pale skin and hair, and a pleasant smile on his face. On instinct I turned slightly to hide my right side—my missing arm, my damaged leg, the strange half of my face and neck reconstructed with parts Fallen Angels.

I could only stand there in mixed shock and rage as the Master danced around me. How could she bring back another Soul to experiment on? Wasn’t my suffering enough for her? 

“Oh, put on a smile and introduce yourself! Don’t be such a stranger.” 

“I’m Minestrone Soup,” I croaked out tightly. It was the best I could do with my damaged vocal chords. She knew that, and yet... 

“My name is Pulte! I look forward to working with you in the future, Minestrone!” 

He offered his hand forward and gave me a warm smile. I had been having the dreams of that white haired woman more frequently, and the way he looked at me, with his silver hair, he looked so similar. I hesitantly offered my hand to him for a shake. 

I quickly found out he worked closely with the Master. He was a magic-type Soul and was useful to her, and though a part of me wanted to be jealous a larger part of me was relieved he wouldn’t suffer what I had. Although the Master still roused me every morning for tests, she performed less and less each day. 

Soon she only called me in once or twice a week. She pushed Pulte away also, giving us time to come to know each other. We often spent our time in the study or the Academy’s library if our Master was spending the day there practicing writing, and although we didn’t have cells near each other Pulte would risk sneaking out to come speak with me at night. It was tough to speak to him with how my throat was, but he was patient with me taking my time to write. 

The woman in my dreams was slowly being replace with my new friend’s face. But... I was also beginning to have the sweet dreams less and less. 

He approached me in the garden one day. He offered me his usual soft expression, but he seemed to be hiding from me. As he sat down, I gently turned him so we were face to face. 

On his right cheek was a cut just under his eye, a dark bruise blooming around it. His face was swollen and he seemed to be in a rush to turn away. I let him. 

“She hit you...” 

“It was my fault really, if I hadn’t written down the incorrect calculations—“ 

I was moving and speaking before I could really process my own actions. I hugged him as tightly as I could with my one good arm as I whispered my promise to him. 

“I’ll get you out of here. I don’t know how yet but I’ll find a way. I swear it to you.”

Chapter 3: Loss Again

The next morning I was called into the Master’s office. Pulte was with her, looking more downcast than I’d ever seen him, but before I could greet them she’d already dragged me onto an operating table and latched a mask around my face. Instinctively I wanted to struggle but the gas filling my lungs was already making me black out. As my vision faded so did my sense of feeling, except for one thing. 

Pain. It was muted, but stemming from my right side all over my body I hurt. It was merely a flash but it was unlike any procedure I’d experienced before. Instead of waking up sore and feeling nothing i was experiencing the soreness set in in real time. I think I cried out in my sleep for the white-haired woman, or maybe I called out for Pulte. Either way, when I awoke I was aware something was wrong with me. 

I wriggled my fingers. My right side... 

Pulte was crying next to me. When he saw I was awake he rushed to stop me from sitting up so I wouldn’t strain myself.

“What happened?” I asked him. “What did that woman do to me?” 

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, holding my face with timid, shaking hands. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

He helped her because he was afraid. I couldn’t fault Pulte for that. But I recognized my new arm. It was from the devouring beast that had mutilated my body before. I couldn’t care less about why it was so small now, i just knew that it would be powerful enough to help us escape. 

As I was exploring the fence set up around the Master’s garden looking for a place that I could cut through, something hard hit my head from behind. Still tired from the experiment, I was helpless as I was dragged back to the labs and strapped down again. Pulte was lying limp on a table next to me. His eyes were open as though he was dead, but he wasn’t so lifelessly pale, and he was still breathing. 

I interrupted the Master. “What are you going to do to him? Release him! He’s done nothing wrong!” 

She merely laughed at me and slipped the mask on. 

This time I don’t think she gave me anything to knock me out. I started to feel numb after about an hour on the table—she couldn’t kill me but I wish she had. I was numbly aware of her walking back and forth between Pulte and I but I couldn’t figure out what she was doing to him. I just hoped he would be okay when I woke up. 

“Pulte-! Pulte-!!” 

I was screaming. My core hurt. I could feel two hearts beating in my chest. Different organs. Magic flowing through me. Pulte lay next to me, disintegrating into light. Half of his physical body had died. And the other half... 

It was part of me now. 

I weakly reached to him. This wasn’t what I wanted. I couldn’t protect him. I promised I’d get him to somewhere safe and yet— 

I was too far to grasp one of the last sparks of light.  

Epilogue: Minestrone Soup

There was once a woman who found science to be quite interesting. When she was given Food Souls of her own, she wondered what limits she could push that would change the nature of them forever. Every day she would perform tests and procedures, first to see what would harm them, and then what could reverse that damage. 

Neither of her Food Souls were obedient, and that frustrated her. She was told they would be completely obedient, so why did they defy her? Why did they seem to develop things like ‘anxiety,’ ‘rebellion,’ ‘fear’ and ‘love?’ They were supposed to be weapons, not human. 

Then one of the Souls tried to escape. She could no longer abide by this. She punished them mercilessly, combining one with the other. Her experiment seemed to be a success in every way, but before she could test it the Soul followed through with his plans and escaped. 

He ran and ran and ran as far as he could. Away from the Academy, away from his former Master… He used to have dreams of someone with white hair and it was all he could do to remember that person as he ran. 

For three days he didn’t stop. With an achingly sore body, he collapsed, blacking out instantly. When he awoke he wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, but he could hear voices around him and he knew he had to keep moving. The Academy must have found him—

“Cassata, he’s over here!” 

Three people emerged from the underbrush. Two were blondes, one boy and one girl, and the other was a man with red hair, a bandage over his eye and a leaf in his mouth. Instantly the fleeing Food Soul felt at ease, as these other three people were Food Souls just like him. 

“Well he’s certainly awake now,” the red-head said. 

“Then that’s good! We can definitely help him out now!” 

“Oh look!” the girl chimed. “He has rabbit ears, kind of like me!” 

“How cute~” the red-head smiled. Both hearts beating in unison, the Food Soul felt like he’d seen a soft smile like that before. 

A hand was offered to him by the blonde boy. “We’re running away too. Would you like to come with us?” 

The Food Soul took his hand. 

[raccoonsinqueen]

So Close, Yet...

What are we having tonight? Mafiatale!Sans x Reader, Mafiatale!Papyrus x Reader, and Mafiatale!Gaster x Reader!

Appetizer:  Should be working on other stuff, buuuuut

Main Course: You like to think you’re a nice person. You’re always kind to the people around you. You like to bring sunshine into their rough lives, and try to keep a smile on your face despite the rugged times. You’re not even mean (most of the time) to the short skeleton who won’t stop teasing you, and you always greet his younger brother with a hug. You don’t even turn them in when you find out that they’re involved in organized crime, or even tell them you know for that matter.

So yeah, you consider yourself a nice person. You know, besides the fact that you’re a serial killer.

Dessert: It’s rated T, but honestly has some rough violent imagery so if you’re not good with that you gotta skit skat paddy wack, my friend.

Oh.... Geez .

He was dead.

You gently set the knife down next to you on the counter as the rain furiously roared outside. You didn’t want to get blood on your new apron, after all.

You waited for the remorse to hit you.

You waited.

And waited.

And... Was that it?

No, no... that was just satisfaction. Why? Because you hated him? Because of his abuse for years? Maybe revenge was what you truly needed?

Well, you thought you’d at least feel a little guilty about it. Though, you had been dreaming for this moment for at least a year. And, if you were completely honest with yourself, you had always had a fascination with death, even as a kid.

It was... Satisfying, to say the least. And beautiful, in a sense. Seeing him motionless, breathless, lifeless was aesthetically beautiful. You could’ve likened it unto a night sky. One of which you had stolen every last moon and star and planet and comet from, and tossed it into the ocean never to be seen again.

That was really poetic, you should write that down.

Maybe you were in shock? Yeah, that was probably it. You were in shock and that’s why you didn’t mourn. After all, you had loved him for years regardless of abusiveness. That’s why he was so good... at hurting you...

You shook your head. Well, he’s dead now, so a lot good that did him! Moral of the story? If you take advantage of your fiance, you should... make sure she’s probably not crazy first?

You don’t know, were you insane? You didn’t really feel insane, but you did just kill a man so...

Oh well, now’s not the time to worry about your questionable sanity, you needed to dump this body and get out of town! Then you can put this whole ordeal behind you, grab some donuts, and move on with your life. You could live in the city? The city sounded fun?

It’ll all be over after this. Those urges you had been feeling every time your fiance turned his back would go away right after this, right? After all, it’s not like you could get addicted to this kind of thing, right?

Right?

Wrong.

You watched the man fall to his knees in front of you, one hand to his neck in an attempt to keep the blood from pooling out and one grasping at your red cloak. His scarred eyes looked up as he gargled on his own flesh, as if begging for any form of mercy.

And you gave it. You weren’t sadistic. You gained no pleasure from seeing this murderer in painful and tormenting agony. You wanted to see him dead.

With one last stab to the back of his neck, the man fell to the floor, motionless.

A wave of contentment fell over you, and your itching subconscious and crawling psyche was put to rest. You picked up your victim with all the strength you could muster and sat him up against the building behind you. Afterall, just because you were a serial killer doesn’t mean you’re gonna leave his body just twisted up on the floor to rot. You had more class than that. Plus, it kinda became your ‘signature’. So to speak. You’d sit them up, close their eyes, made them look.... peaceful. Beautiful.

The Red Reaper . That’s what they called you in all the newspapers and radio shows. When you adorned the red cloak, you were kinda hoping to get called Little Red Riding Hood , but everyone thought you were a dude so The Red Reaper it was. You sighed. That was probably for the best anyway. The police were really bad at catching you. Heck, the mob   was closer than they were.

Ugh, the mob. They were the worst, truly the suckiest. Not because they cheated, stole, and killed, though that was a pretty shallow move. But because they were so darn annoying!

You picked this city because of one thing: The crime rate. You soon realized you were probably insane because of your urge to kill, but you really didn’t have the urge to kill good people. They were beautiful in life, why would you kill them? That made no sense. But bad people. Oh, they were ugly . Gross. People who killed, raped, tortured, those people would be MUCH more beautiful dead . You were practically doing them a favor.

The problem with killing bad people? You end up offing a lot of hitmen. And regional managers for said hitmen. And just gang members in general. The thing is, organized crime groups don’t really like it when you kill their members. Good news? Less and less people were wanting to murder, rape, and even steal. Bad news? These gangs were getting real pissed off, and were hunting you down like a wolf.

Ah well, no big deal. After all, what’s a wolf going to do against a tiger? Probably a lot, if it’s in a pack.

But you were good at sneaking. Like right now, as you traversed the darkened alley. You went over crates, past dumpsters, through twists and turns to get where you needed. Although, sometimes you stumbled on some... interesting conversations.

“Where’s Jerry?!” The man’s thick brooklyn accent hit you like bag of rocks. In an instant, you swiftly put your back to the dumpster in front of you with almost unparalleled stealth, your hands tracing of your knife almost hungrily. More grunts? Maybe if there’s few enough you could do a little extra clean up today...

“Sluggish jerk’s always late...” You heard another man say, before he was interrupted by a third.

“Shut up!” The third one boomed, “We gotta keep our cool before-!”

“ before what, boys? ”

Whoa. That was one deep voice. It was almost haunting, in a sense, but was heavy with a dark, deep weight. You leaned back, curious. Now that you could practically hear the shivering of the grunts behind you, things were getting really interesting.

“I-i-it’s him!” You heard one of the men crash into something.

“it’s me.” The voice rumbled.

“Y-You’re S-S-!”

“in the flesh.” You heard the voice chuckle lightheartedly a bit, though you didn’t know why. Nothing he said was funny. Maybe one of the grunts fell?

The third grunt seemed to pick up his voice in confidence, “Right.... It’s just... We were expecting your-”

“my younger brother?” The voice was so casual, it was strange. “yeah, he’s the nicer one, isn’t he? but he’s busy. so what’s the deal? where’s the package we were promised weeks ago?”

“W-We promise we aren’t stiffin’ ya, sir!” The second grunt quickly relayed. “It’s just-”

“The Red Reaper.” The third one finished.

There was a tense silence, and you felt a surge of pride. Looks like you stopped a package, whether it be drugs or weapons or whatever. You were basically a cop now.

“i.. . see .” The voice growled in distaste. Distaste? Who was he to judge, he was in the mob. And judging by the other’s reactions, he was pretty high up on the food chain. “well, it looks to me like you folks are... incompetent.”

The grunts started to panic, “B-B-But, sir-!” The first one was cut off by what sounded like something sharp slicing into flesh. Was he using knifes? It didn’t sound like it, and you knew that sound well. Then what as he....

“W-W-WE CAN’T HELP-!”

“what? one guy with a cloak and a knife? come on, me and your leader had a deal and he doesn’t even have the guts to face me? even after we’ve already given you our monsters’ lives? who’s gonna pay for that, hmm?” Another sharp noise. What was he using? You were so curious!

“P-P-Please! You need me alive, right?” The third grunt begged, “T-To relay the message?”

“i think this sends a clear enough message.”

“Please, SANS-!” And the last one was killed. Welp, saved you some time. But... that still made you wonder, who was...?

The voice —er— Sans sighed. And before long, you heard footsteps fade away into the alley. As soon as you heard nothing but silence, you stepped out from the shadows. You looked at the grunts that littered the floor.

You bent down and inspected the wounds. There was a large gaping hole right under his chin... all their chins. Almost like he used a spear or a really sharp stick to kill them. Hmmm, it was painless. You could get behind that.

Well, whoever this strangely named man was, he was gone now. You’d have to stow away that name for later though, things might get interesting if you could kill a crime lord of some kind.

You looked to the three bodies, before you began to pout at a sudden realization. Ugh, your murder was going to get overshadowed by these three. You know that should’ve been a good thing, not getting caught and whatnot, but you worked hard to kill people, the least you could get was some credit!

No no, you were being childish. You exhaled as you began your walk home.

Once again, going through the dark alleys of the city was as easy as breathing to you. You could honestly do it on autopilot, and you did. Finally, you reached the alley of your apartment. You hid under the shadow of the dumpster next to your fire escape, before you stripped yourself of your red cloak, your blank-white mask, your chest compressor, and your blood-stained boots. Moving the dumpster, you pushed it to the side easily and lifted up a piece of loose pavement. You set your ‘costume’ in the crevice, before veiling the secret place once again.

With a relaxed sigh, you casually made your way up the fire escape. You could probably go in through the front door, but this way was easier. When you made it to the top, you easily slid the window open and slipped through. With a stretch, you checked the time.

You sighed again, this time more melancholy, “Got work in thirty...”

Well, doesn’t mean you can’t take a quick shower! You stripped yourself of your clothes as you entered your bathroom, before switching on the water and waiting for it to get lukewarm. Unfortunately, you didn’t have the luxury of hot water. Afterall, only one of your jobs pay.

Stepping in, you let the water run down your body. There was no blood to wash off. Your cloak was always long and large enough to cover your entire silhouette, plus you were very clean with your cuts. Honestly, though, you hadn’t washed your boots or cloak once. Where would you? Your sink? It was already red anyway, so there was no need.

After you finished, you dried yourself off with a towel. One quick rub down later, and you picked out your uniform after slipping on some undies. A simple blouse, a skirt that reached your knees, two black shoes, and an apron. There, now you were ready. You weren’t too late for work now, were you- ?!

Five minutes!? You practically sprinted out of your apartment, rushing down the steps and through the lobby.

“Late again, Y/n?” Your landlord called.

“Unfortunately!” You called back as you burst out of the door, not having the time to hear his response.

You ran down the street. The great thing about living in that small, dingy apartment was that it was easily a fifteen minute walk to your work. But you didn’t have fifteen minutes.

Before long, you made it to your place of work, hopefully not too late. It was a nice place, a restaurant and bar. You had been excited to work there... before your boss started working you like a rented pack mule. But you loved your boss and the people you met there, so even though the money wasn’t great you kept it.

You opened the doors and ran to the counter, almost completely out of breath. “Ah! Sorry I’m late, Mr. Grillby!”

You huffed as you looked up at your boss, who was currently and casually cleaning a glass. But he wasn’t the only one there, another monster was with him. You tilted your head. Strange. Monsters don’t usually visit before you open.

“...You’re not late, Y/n.” He simply said. Grillby wasn’t much for many words.

“I’m, uhm, not?” You looked at your watch. It said you were at least seven minutes late?

Grillby beckoned you closer, and you showed him your watch. “...That’s ten minutes late.”

“Oh!” You blushed a light color, bashfully smiling. “Sorry, Mr. Grillby! I didn’t mean to make a scene in front of... uhm...”

Grillby gestured to the monster in front of him, his stoic expression unchanging. If you could say that about literal fire. “Y/n. This is an old friend.”

The monster outstretched his hand. He was a classy looking monster, but still had a relaxness about him. His jacket was on the counter, revealing his suspenders snapped around his shoulders. His fedora shadowed most of his face almost eerily, though.

“heya.” Oh. Oh. Well, this is interesting. “the name’s sans. sans the skeleton. ms. y/n, i’m assuming.”

“Sans?” You offered him the brightest smile, as you took his hand and giggled. “What a silly name!”

[crest-of-courage]

Digimon OTP Week Day #3: Soulmate AU

Day 3! 

I actually wanted to post the second part to my Sci-Fi-Story today but I thought of what I was gonna write for the Soulmate AU and the idea just hit me a little too hard and wanted to be written immediately :D So you are getting this AU very on time (it’s like midnight here in Germany now). But don’t worry, the second part for the Sci-Fi AU will still come!

So this is a Soulmate AU based in the Tri canon.

Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Taito/Taiyama/Taichi x Yamato

Word Count: 1696

Summary: Finding his soulmate had never been a priority to Taichi Yagami. Especially when there were a lot more important things on his mind, like saving the Digital World from destruction by a recurring Malomyotismon. What he had not expected was to find the truth about his destined partner in the heat of this battle - and the knowledge that the revelation might even be too late.

There was too much going on around him.

Taichi’s grip tightened around the pulsating Digivice in his hand, his heart rate beating in time with it.

He knew that his Digimon was reaching his limits, could feel it.

Just as the thought passed his mind, Wargreymon suddenly started to stumble, light surrounding him and almost blinding the Chosen with its brightness.

Taichi tried to shield his eyes, while his mind started to race.

He knew what this meant.

And sure enough: As soon as the light faded, they could all see that Wargreymon was shrinking, slowly sinking back onto Rookie-level.

This wasn’t good.

Of course they had been fighting for way too long and their Digimon had to be on their last legs, but they also couldn’t withstand a second without them.

Not against an enemy like MaloMyotismon.

They should have known that this was a possibility after the Reboot, but actually being face to face with the Mega-Level Digimon again felt like a nightmare coming true.

As if the whole mess with Meicoomon hadn’t been bad enough already.

Koushiro was furiously typing away on his laptop, hair standing out messily.

He had been trying to figure out how some of the occupants of the DigiWorld had been able to evolve so quickly ever since they had come back to it after the Reboot – which already felt like forever ago, even though it couldn’t have been more than a few days.

But now that these evolutions posed an actual, serious threat to them by targeting the Chosen and their Digimon directly, he was working on the solution even quicker, sure that he could work it into an actual plan.

Taichi’s gaze hefted on him, a figure far away, desperately hoping that his research was coming to an end now.

All the Chosen were battling furiously; MaloMyotismon not being the only Digimon that had suddenly decided to attack them mercilessly.

What were they going to do if all their Digimon were too exhausted to fight?

His feet miraculously managed to carry him over the uneven ground of the forested landscape without tripping, and soon he had reached the slumped over Agumon.

Cradling him in his arms and pressing him close, Taichi suddenly noticed something blinking on his wrist.

It took him more than a few moments to realize what he was looking at, and when he did, it felt like someone had hit straight through his rib cage, catching his heart in a vice like grip, squeezing it until it threatened to give out.

The usually black ink had turned blood red. The countdown neared it’s last five minutes and Taichi felt shivers running through his body, causing the hairs at the base of his neck to stand on end.

Meeting his soul mate had really never been one of his priorities.

Sure, when the countdown appeared on his wrist by the end of age 9 – which was unusually late – he had been excited, showing it to Hikari and his mother and going on and on about what his soul mate is gonna look like, be like and when he would meet them.

As he was chosen as one of the DigiDestined and later given (or taken) the role of the leader of the little group though, he had found far more exciting and also much more important things to focus on.

Like saving the world.

And doing so again years later.

And another time now.

Maybe he had had time to think about his soul mate in between these troubles, but somehow the events in the DigiWorld had altered his view on the whole thing.

People might find the idea of a soul mate romantic or beautiful.

But the way the whole thing went down was, at least in Taichi’s world, more than just cruel.

Watching the numbers go down until his soul mate died.

Getting the conformation that it really was them seconds before.

How was any of that romantic?

It all came crashing down now, when the countdown kept ticking away, the life of his soul mate, the person he hadn’t even had the chance to meet, slowly fading.

Somehow he had known.

Which was why he had chosen to wear a wristband ever since he had accepted that his life had chosen a different path for him, one that didn’t involve him living a happy picket fence life with whoever fate had chosen for him.

Or at least that what he had been sure of since the day they had first been thrown into the Digital World.

It had been selfish of him.

Never giving him or her a chance to meet him.

Maybe they had been waiting all their life and Taichi had been too busy focusing on everything that had been going on in a world they didn’t even know.

Instead…

Instead his heart had settled on someone else.

Someone that might have been easier distance-wise, since he was one of them, but sure as hell not easy when it came down to any other aspect.

He himself had made that much very clear.

“I don’t think we should do this, Taichi.”

Blue eyes looked at him, almost warily, as if he were scared that the other boy would jump at his throat and rip it apart.

Taichi had to admit that he wasn’t very far from it.

“Why did you kiss me then? Hell, Yama, why are we doing this if you are not even giving us a chance?!”

“How do you imagine it?! We can’t even have a normal discussion without punching each other in the face! We’re completely different people!” “We can make it work. Dammit, don’t act so fucking cold! I know that you feel the same way about me!”

Taichi felt anger bubbling inside of him, anger at how stupidly calm Yamato acted about all of this, even though he knew that this was affecting him just as badly.

“Let’s give it a try, Yama. Please.”

He shook his head, averting his eyes.

“I can’t. I just can’t.”

They had left it at that and the whole thing had made Taichi even more reluctant to everything relationship.

Just as the countdown hit two minutes and Agumon was finally moving again in his arms, he suddenly heard a booming voice right in front of him.

“Weaklings! WEAKLINGS!”

He felt his heart lurching into his throat as he suddenly grasped the whole situation – and what it meant for him.

His friends were still fighting their own battles, none of them having the time – or the energy – to focus on the main enemy right now.

“Agumon”, he whispered, but received no answer.

The Digimon was too weak to even turn his head up, even though he desperately seemed to try to get back into battle – judging by his sluggish, but forceful movements and frustrated sounds that sent tiny puffs of heat onto Taichi’s arms.

Suddenly, the air around him was moving.

Looking up, he saw Malomyotismon charging an attack, black ball of energy unfurling between his hands, growing bigger and bigger – already shooting at him before Taichi even tried to command his tired legs to move.

But it didn’t hit him.

Instead, there was a flurry of green and black and blond, followed by a pained scream that iced the blood in Taichi’s veins.

He knew that voice.

He knew who had just stepped in front him – to save him, to take the attack.

For him.

“Yamato!”, he screamed, watching the boy go down right in front of his eyes, body limp.

He grabbed his shoulders, shaking him.

“What did you do?! Why did you do that?! You stupid, stupid moron! Where’s Gabumon?! Why didn’t he stop you?!”

Hot tears were gathering in his eyes and Taichi angrily grit his teeth at his own weakness.

When had he become so weak?

His guts twisted as he looked down at his best friend’s pained face, hands clutching at his chest, fingers digging into the black fabric of his shirt – right where Malomyotismon’s attack had hit him.

“You weren’t moving”, he choked out, and Taichi wanted to slap him, tell him to shut up, to say something cliche like “save your strength”.

“You… You can’t die on me, Yama. I promise I’m gonna murder you if you die on me now”, his words had turned into a desperate whisper, bruised hands gripping at his shoulders, his mind racing, unable to come up with ways to help him.

“JOU! JOU, PLEASE COME HERE!”, he screamed, begged, even though he knew his fellow Chosen was too far away to hear him, while Yamato’s breaths became slower, eyes slowly falling shut.

Seeing this, it suddenly hit him.

Painfully slow his gaze wandered back to his wrist, where, as if it had been waiting for him to actually see it happening, a name slowly engraved itself into his skin.

Yamato Ishida.

“No”, Taichi whispered, bile rising into his throat.

Why had he never considered it?

“We’re completely different people!”

“No, no, no, no, no.”

His words had somehow given his best friend the energy to open his eyes, if only by a bit, eyelids already growing too heavy to do it properly.

When he saw what Taichi was looking at though, his eyes actually widened for a moment, face growing impossibly paler.

“Fuck”, he choked out and suddenly, there were tears spilling on his dirt-coated cheeks, pain and emotions taking a hold of him.

His expression was one of pure hurt and regret.

“I’m so sorry, Tai. I’m so sorry”, he whispered, voice giving in.

Taichi just shook his head, unable to grasp any of this.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Don’t. Please don’t leave me.”

He took Yamato’s hand in his, suddenly remembering the moment they had let Angemon and Angewomon shoot arrows at them, their hands shaking and intertwined.

Yamato didn’t squeeze back though.

The countdown wasn’t audible, but Taichi still heard it, like gun shots in his ears.

His soul mate stopped breathing the second it hit zero.