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mirthful-sonnet · 3 years

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Rise Above the Ashes | Chapter 3

Summary: Jean and Mikasa find a remedy against their nightmares, Armin has an announcement, and despite the political tensions in Paradis the peace negotiations go forward.

Notes: Thanks once again to @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie for beta reading this <3

Warning: None

Ao3

Time was a blur that now consisted of nothing but restlessness and constant visits to the hospital.

That didn’t matter to Mikasa.

A restful sleep was something alien to her. She might as well spend her time beside Jean, trying to make up for yet another failing on her part.

It had all happened too fast, but she knew that the man could have reached her if Jean had not stepped in first. Her thoughts were too muddled, with the quietness of the hospital making the violent scene and Jean’s drug-induced confession echo inside her head.

I think I even loved you. Since we were trainees.

She was aware that he had a crush on her back then, something she had easily ignored. Yet knowing the depth of it and that he possibly still felt the same brought plenty of surprise and confusion.

Did he still feel the same way for her? No, that was impossible, and she could not bring herself to acknowledge it. Even the thought of doing it terrified her. He certainly showed no signs of remembering his words once he woke up again, and she didn’t expect him to. Not when he was still battling between life and death.

She felt a pang in her chest at the thought of death, at the mere idea of Jean dying. He had proved himself stronger and more stubborn than anyone had expected.

The doctor had described his case as nothing short of a miracle, as one of Jean’s lungs had collapsed and he had caught an infection that led to a critical fever. They had inserted a tube into his chest to help drain the excess blood and air caused by the wounds, and this morning they had finally removed it. While there was still pain, he was alive and that’s what mattered.

During the entire treatment, Mikasa remained by his side.

Jean constantly told her to go home and rest, but she rarely listened, opting to watch over him when Jean’s mother wasn’t around. She took a break from her volunteering at the orphanage and her work passing down messages to the queen. The rest of the group continued their negotiations while she and Mrs. Kirschtein watched over Jean.

Meeting Jean’s mother had brought her an unexpected sense of inner peace, her warm and caring personality making it easier to confront the guilt and uncertainty that plagued her. It took every ounce of composure to keep her from breaking down and falling on her knees with apologies when she met Mrs. Kirschtein.

The woman had smiled kindly at her, saying that she was happy that Jean had a friend looking after him so thoroughly. The reassurance in her hazel eyes was more than enough to make her feel better. It came unbidden, but she couldn’t help but be reminded of her own mother. The light that had been cruelly snuffed out of her life when her age could still be counted with her fingers.

While she felt a strange ache when watching them, she also liked to see Mrs.Kirschtein still fuss around her son, who could only roll his eyes while hiding a smile, clearly glad to have her present.

She immediately admired the lady, who put on a brave face despite the terror that had almost taken her son away from her. Mikasa had unintentionally witnessed her in such a vulnerable state during the early stages of Jean’s recovery that she had felt like an intruder.

It hadn’t been long since Jean’s mother arrived, having immediately taken the first train that was available to come to the capital with nothing but her garments and a broken heart. Mikasa had just returned but stopped when she saw her beside Jean’s unconscious form through the gap of the room’s door, fitting woolen socks over his limp feet as her only son battled for his life.

“Remember that time you fell down while playing with the neighborhood kids? I held you tight and you kept complaining about how you would be able to learn to take care of me if I kept fussing around you as if you were a baby.” She had said as she fit the blankets around his shivering form, a slight tremor in her voice as if she was trying not to cry. “You were always such a sweet child. Now look at you, a grown man but still getting into trouble. It won’t matter how older you get, because mom will always be here to take care of you.” Mikasa strained to look at the woman’s slouched shape, now crying freely. “Because you are still my little boy, my sun, and my sweet child.”

Mikasa realized then that there were tears streaming down her own cheeks as she watched the grieving mother. With one last glance, she had decided to leave them alone.

Now she was back in front of his room, holding a bag full of extra blankets and a packaged meal. At the same time, Mrs. Kirschtein opened the door to exit, startled at seeing Mikasa.

“Mikasa!” She exclaimed. “How lovely to see you! Although I thought you were back at your house resting.”

Mikasa shook her head, not wanting to explain that she barely got any rest as her sleep was filled with nightmares of blood and unforgiving steel.

“I slept for a good enough time,” she lied, “I figured I could bring more stuff for him. It’s the least I can do.”

The woman’s hazel gaze was gentle, reaching out to grasp her free hand. “My dear, there’s nothing more you could possibly do for my son. You have rarely left his side! Please don’t strain yourself so much, now I’ll have to fret over you too.”

Mikasa could only smile, squeezing back her hand. The bittersweet ache came back as she remembered her mother again, and she wondered if Jean had the same kind of memories with his mom when he was a child. Did she hold him when he had nightmares? Did she sing to the scars on his knees when he fell?

“My son still likes to act all haughty sometimes, but he cares so much. And he is worried for you. We both are.” The older woman added, looking genuinely concerned as she took in Mikasa’s weary appearance.

Mikasa knew the circles under her eyes must have given her away. “I know, Mrs. Kirschtein. I’m just…I care for him too. And this is the least I could do for all the trouble he put himself in for me.”

Her voice had come out weak, as she remembered that this wasn’t the first time Jean had saved her. Mrs. Kirschtein looked at her in disapproval. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, sweet girl. My son told me what you did to that horrible man who hurt him, and I couldn’t thank you enough for protecting him. I have only known you for a few weeks, but I have come to think of you as my daughter. That’s why I’m asking you to take it easy and allow yourself to rest and not worry. If not for Jean, then do it for me.”

Something jolted in her suddenly and she surged forward to hug the older woman tightly, with tears gathered in her eyes and a lump in her throat. She was mildly embarrassed, but the woman’s motherly affection had touched a part of her that had been hollow since she was that wide-eyed child living in the mountains. The older woman had stiffened momentarily at Mikasa’s unexpected reaction, but after a moment she hugged her back just as tightly, happy to offer the girl even just a little bit of comfort.

***

Jean’s coughs echoed along the hallway as he stopped to catch his breath.

“I don’t think this was a good idea,” Mikasa said, her hold on Jean’s hand faltering. He was already recovered enough to walk, but he still had to strain sometimes to breathe properly.

“Hah, don’t worry about this,” Jean managed to get out as he got his breath back and continued walking while holding onto Mikasa.

“If I spent any more time cooped up in that room, I would have jumped out from the window already. Then we would all be having regrets,” he added, his steps somewhat clumsy but still steady.

The hallway was dead silent, with bluish moonbeams filtering through the windows. The only sounds were those of their steps. Jean had wanted to take a walk since he felt suffocated in his room, and Mikasa insisted on walking with him.

“Stop being morbid,” Mikasa chided him.

Jean snorted; his breath was still strained. “It comes naturally these days.”

Mikasa looked at him, taking in the weariness permeating the smile on his face. A walking contradiction. There was still no sign of him remembering what he had said weeks ago in his delirious state. She suddenly gripped his arm tightly without noticing and he turned to her, a questioning look on his face.

“Are you okay?” He asked her, his concern evident. It seemed like such a Jean thing to worry over her while he was the one who had been on the brink of death.

“Jean, I…” She trailed off, not really knowing what to say, or how to acknowledge his past confession.

“What is it?” He asked.

Mikasa paused and then just shook her head, afraid that she would say the wrong thing. “It’s nothing, I just don’t want you to joke like that.”

Jean gave her a small smile and they continued walking. It felt odd to be able to walk like this again, even if his steps were awkward. His days had been filled with medications and therapy, visits from his friends, and the usual nightmares that were forgotten once he woke up and saw that Mikasa was still by his side.

The visits brought him great comfort, whether it was Connie bringing him books to read, Armin suddenly opening a chessboard mid-conversation, Reiner reading letters from Falco and Gabi aloud, Pieck talking endlessly about new spots she had discovered in town, or Annie sneaking in donuts (her favorite treat) for him to eat.

Right now, he was glad to break from the usual routine even if just for a while, and Mikasa remaining by his side made everything better. He only wished she didn’t feel so guilty or even felt the need to trouble herself so much for him.

Jean almost found their current situation amusing. It seemed that he had spent half of his life wanting Mikasa’s attention while she looked elsewhere, something that he could never resent her for. But now they were here together in the most uncertain of circumstances, caught up in the middle of trying to build a paradise out of a blank canvas.

Armin constantly gave him updates on the progress of the treaty and other legislations that had been approved. Historia also sent him notes notifying him about their progress and wishing him a speedy recovery since she couldn’t come in person. As a monarch, it wasn’t possible, and she had to juggle her favors carefully.

Their efforts had not been interrupted despite the attack, which Jean was immensely relieved about. He knew, however, that they could not let their guard down as it was clear that the hatred from their adversaries would not stop there. His wounded body was now the tangible evidence of that hatred. The culprits were awaiting a trial, and Yeagerist officials had sent a half-hearted apology for what happened.

Bastards.

Now there was an upcoming ceremony for the peace treaty to be signed, which would be highlighted by the first ever air show on the island. A demonstration of peace that also displayed the military and technological advancements that were taking place at a rapid speed in the country.

“Are you sure you’re ready to leave?” Mikasa’s voice interrupted him from his thoughts. She had an unreadable expression on her face.

“Of course, I am. I have gone from breaking a dozen bones to turning into a titan. A knife in my lung is nothing to me.”

Mikasa was quiet for a moment, pondering on his words. “What was it like?”

“Hmm?”

“Turning into a titan. What was that like?” Mikasa asked as they turned in a corner and faced another hallway.

Jean paused for a moment until he finally spoke. “I’m not sure I remember exactly what happened. At one point it was just me and Connie holding onto each other, wondering if what we did was enough. And then…it was just nothingness. Some part of me was alive and conscious, but the rest…well, it was like I had no control over myself. I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone.”

They kept walking slowly, their shapes casting shadows on the blank walls. At least in those moments that had seemed final he had not been alone. After the rumbling, he always had his friends with him, the terror they had faced linking all of them permanently. But Mikasa had to bear the weight of the aftermath by herself.

“I bet I looked handsome as a titan,” he tried to lighten the mood.

“I don’t remember. I just took off without so much as a goodbye.” Mikasa muttered.

Jean stopped in his tracks, tightening his hold on her hand so she would look at him. “Hey now, what is this? Nobody can blame you for how you reacted after doing what you did. I don’t think I would have even had the strength to keep going, but you did anyway.”

“But I could have-” Mikasa started.

“Stop, you’re here with me now, aren’t you?” He interrupted.

Mikasa wanted to protest again, but something about Jean’s expression made her stay quiet, and she only nodded. Deep down she knew he had a point. Killing Eren had been like tearing out her own limbs, leaving behind an empty shell of a girl, a kite cut off from its string, left to drift aimlessly. But the guilt she felt over leaving her friends behind to face whatever came their way was still there. Even mourning Eren made her feel terrible, as she struggled to reconcile the boy who had saved her with the one who had caused so much destruction and suffering. In a way, being here was a way of atoning for all the time she didn’t spend with the group, who had to face and struggle to fix the outcome of that destruction. But a more selfish part of her just wanted to spend more time near Jean.

“I do think though,” Jean said as they continued walking, “that you would have loved all the places we visited.”

Jean had told her about them, weaving stories about the cherry blossoms of Hizuru, the vast deserts of the Middle Eastern countries, the icy weather of the northern isles, and the active nightlife at Marley’s emerging cities. There was something extraordinary about how humanity was finding a way to rise back up despite the destruction that happened. There was still a long way to go, but little details like the ones he recounted to Mikasa gave him some hope for the future.

Mikasa loved to hear about the different places they visited, inevitably thinking about Eren and Armin’s dreams of going outside the walls. At that point in time, she had never taken much part of their dream, happy to simply watch their enthusiasm about the outside world. But listening to Jean’s stories made her feel as if she were treading through those landscapes herself.

“Maybe I’ll see some of those places eventually,” she said, letting him stretch his arms as he walked, still holding onto her hand.

“If by some chance you find yourself lost in a hellhole like Marley’s capital, I have a spare room in my apartment,” Jean commented, taking another pause to catch his breath before continuing to walk.

Mikasa looked at him. “You’ve told me dozens of stories about your travels, but I haven’t heard much from the place you live in.”

Jean was thoughtful for a moment. “The capital city is a nice place. At least right now it is. When I arrived, it was mostly rubble and shelters for refugees. The summers were infernal too.” He told her. “But I did meet some good people there, and everyone worked hard to preserve what was left and rebuild what was destroyed. Despite everything, I think…that I miss it somehow.”

It was true, he didn’t think that he would ever come to think of Marley as his permanent home, but he had still made some memories there that he held dear. The good times, the bad times, the friends, and the lovers he had there, they were all a part of him too.

Mikasa asked him for more details, and he went on to tell her about all the work they did in the shelters, how he had painted the walls of his apartment when he found them too plain, and the neighbors who introduced him to Marleyan cuisine and the subsequent disaster he had caused trying to cook an octopus. It made Mikasa laugh, picturing a frantic Jean trying not to burn his apartment down.

He also told her about the historical landmarks that survived the rumbling, the capital square that held all the government buildings, the hectic nightlife at the entertainment quarter, and the different dialects and languages he had discovered.

“I was terrible at first,” Jean commented, “I earned a good slap from a girl when I tried speaking to her in her dialect.”

“What did you tell her?” Mikasa asked.

“Something about my privates when I just wanted to ask her name,” Jean replied, his face flushed in embarrassment.

Mikasa stared at him blankly for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound ringing through the quiet hallway. His embarrassing memory was forgotten as he took her in, not used to seeing her laughing so freely.

“I’m sorry-” she tried to say between bouts of laughter, failing to control it. “Oh no, that’s terrible but so funny Jean!”

She continued laughing until she finally had some control of herself. Then she looked at him and noticed that he was staring at her with something she could only describe as awe.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Mikasa asked between chuckles, her flushed face now matching his despite the darkness of the hallway.

“Oh-um sorry, it’s just that I’ve never seen you laugh like that before,” he looked away, flustered. “It’s nice.”

Mikasa felt her cheeks burn more fiercely and she let go of his hand to go near one of the windows in the hallway, calming herself down. She didn’t remember if she ever laughed like that before. Something about Jean made smiling and laughing easy instead of a struggle.

He was standing beside her now, taking in her reddened face and black hair coming loose from her hair tie. Anyone would say she looked disheveled and tired, but he only marveled at how effortlessly beautiful she was even now. He truly was hopeless, wasn’t he?

“I guess it’s new to me too,” she was still not looking at him. “Your tales, they make me happy.”

“I’m glad,” he muttered, turning to look at the outlines of the city buildings. “All these things I’ve been telling you, the places I have seen and the people I have met… they’re all still standing because of you, Mikasa.”

Mikasa immediately shook her head in denial. “No, I-”

“It’s the truth,” he interrupted, unnerved that Mikasa thought so lowly of herself. “The people that have survived and find a reason to smile and hope every day, the way everything is rising back up even better than before, you made it possible.”

She shifted in her feet, slightly flustered at his open praise. It wasn’t just her. All of them had helped stop Eren, she wanted to say. Plus, her friends were the ones who were working tirelessly to bring peace. But she couldn’t deny the comfort she felt from his words, from the anecdotes that proved that not everything was lost.

“Thanks, Jean,” she simply said, now thinking of something else she had been meaning to tell him but didn’t know how to.

They remained in comfortable silence, looking at the sleeping city before them. Before Jean could tell her that they had to go back, she finally spoke.

“Jean?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” Mikasa murmured, twiddling her thumbs. “Since you’re already set to be discharged and will have to follow up your treatment, I was thinking…why don’t you stay at my house?”

She had said the last words too fast, but Jean’s face made it clear that he understood her.

“What? N-no Mikasa, I can’t,” he stammered while shaking his head, “I’ll be fine in my lodgings, I can take care of myself.”

Mikasa felt her heart sink at his words, but she persisted. “I know you can… but they expect you to follow a strict routine and you’re still struggling to even walk and breathe. You’re going to need someone to help you and the rest of the group won’t be able to be there when you need it. Please, Jean, let me do this for you.”

Jean only shook his head again, even if he knew what she said was true. The group would be at the council every day while Armin gave him time off to fully recover. His mom was set to go back to Trost tomorrow after he had convinced her that he was fine and would be looked after, something that was a partial lie since he didn’t really have anyone but himself. They expected him to follow strict medications which was no problem to him, but he also had to dress and clean his wounds routinely while also having to work and do normal chores.

“Mikasa, I really appreciate it, but I can’t burden you with my condition. I promise that I’ll be fine.” His tone was firm, but the more he denied it the more desperate she became to convince him.

“You’re not a burden Jean. You could never be a burden to me. That’s why I’m asking you to consider it. This isn’t the first time you have put yourself in harm’s way for me. This is…this is the least I can do.”

Jean frowned, a little taken aback that she remembered that he had saved her once before. “What do you mean it’s the least you could do? You have done more than enough for me just by staying by my side. Don’t do this out of pity or just because you feel that you need to compensate me for something. I would take those stabbings a thousand times again if I had to.”

“It’s not out of pity!” Mikasa’s voice was shrill, which neither of them expected, and Jean blanched slightly at her tone. She reached out to grasp his arm and bowed her head, silently apologizing for raising her voice. “I want to help you,” she whispered, “it would mean everything to me if you would let me help you. We agreed that we would always be there for each other, and I meant that. Please let me help you, Jean.”

He exhaled sharply, trying to hold on to even just a sliver of stubbornness, but watching her pleading face made whatever resolve he had finally break.

Jean let out another exhale and finally nodded. “All right…I’ll stay with you, Mikasa.”

The smile that lit up her face made it worth it to him, and whatever protests he still had were quickly forgotten.

“Good, thank you, Jean.” She replied, and he wondered why she was thanking him when she was the one burdening herself for him.

He stepped forward, unable to help himself, and took a stray lock of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. “I’ll try to be a good guest.”

“As long as no octopus is involved, I’m not worried.” Mikasa deadpanned.

This time it was his laughter ringing through the hallway.

***

Life as a soldier had taught Jean to get accustomed to every circumstance possible. So, in that way, Jean easily got used to living with Mikasa.

It wasn’t a big house, but it was enough. He had his own room and it was suitable for the work he would continue to do from a distance.

They fall into an easy routine, a small semblance of normality in a pattern filled with triggers and bad dreams.

He wakes up, the tremors of his nightmares still permeating his body as he helps Mikasa prepare coffee and breakfast, never ignorant of the stiffness in her movements during the early hours of the morning as well. No doubt still stunned by her own nightly terrors. But they are grateful that the worst kind of nightmares are kept at bay for now, and their demons lay forgotten when they greet each other and make small talk over their meal.

Mikasa learns just how stubborn Jean can be, as despite his condition he insists on helping her with every chore around the house. She only relents slightly when it comes to cooking, with Jean making savory omelets that she can’t get enough of.

There are times when her curiosity threatens to get the best of her, where she wants to ask him what he meant by his dazed confession, but she stops herself in time. She pushes it into a hidden corner of her mind to avoid breaking this bubble of comfort - this castle in the sky they were building together.

Jean on the other hand learned how fussy she could be, a trait he had somewhat noticed back then with Eren and Armin. But now he finds himself as the target of her attention, and it’s a little overwhelming. Amid her attention, he also notices how odd she acts around him sometimes-as if she wanted to tell him something but kept herself from doing so. He didn’t want to pressure her into anything, so he doesn’t question her about it. Instead, he is endlessly grateful; for her watchful eyes when he is walking alone, for the snacks she leaves on his desk as he drowns himself in paperwork, and for her presence in general.

“I think Mikasa is looking to replace me as your mother”

Jean grimaced. “Mom, please don’t start.”

“I’m only telling the truth, Jeanbo. She’s been watching over you like a hawk! It’s almost like I’m not needed around here.” His mom said, a teasing undertone in her voice.

“Mikasa has always been protective and she…well she feels guilty over what happened. I don’t know how to make her understand that none of this is her fault.” He sighed; with the book he was reading now forgotten across his lap.

“She’s a caring girl, that one. I am sure she will understand eventually. But for now, just be grateful that you have someone like her in your life, Jeanbo.”

Jean stayed quiet, taking in her words, and then shook his head. “I’ll also be grateful when you stop calling me that and never mention that Mikasa’s my new mom again.”

“You’re right. I think daughter-in-law is more fitting.”

“MOM!”

He was only met with endless laughter.

It was an extraordinary thing, the solace one could find just by having another person close. Mikasa learns it through the easy rhythm they fall into in the kitchen, the little talks over the table, when they relax in the backyard, with their clothes loose due to the summer heat and faces flushed by the sun; through the endless stories he has from his travels, the concentration in his face when he’s sketching, or just the simple knowledge that he is here, living and breathing. Despite the guardedness that he still shows around her, the glimpses that she does get of his mind make her want to see the world through his eyes. She has always said that the world is cruel and beautiful, but when he is here, she can only see beauty.

There’s a glint in his hazel eyes when he tells her about the places they have been to that brings her an odd type of comfort. It’s one of the many quirks and details she notices about him. Their routine makes it impossible not to notice small details about each other.

He notices that she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s embarrassed, she notices how the warm honey hues of his eyes can change color depending on the lighting, he notes the secret dimple on her left cheek if she smiles enough, she sees the way he scratches his ear when thinking hard about something, he’s transfixed by how much her grey eyes remind him of passing clouds, and she discovers that there are more scatterings of freckles and moles on his neck and arms.

This last detail she discovers during the daily procedure of changing his bandages. As former soldiers, they have found themselves in similar situations before. But the horrors of war are not around them anymore; now it’s just the both of them in the quietness of her house.

It takes great patience to convince him to let her help him, his protests that he can do it himself eventually drowned out. But when he bares his chest and the map of scars adorning it, she sometimes wonders if this was a good idea at all.

“Gruesome, huh?” He tells her one day, avoiding her eyes as his buttoned shirt lays open.

Mikasa snaps out of her stupor, immediately frowning. “Not at all, I’ve seen worse.”

She goes on to remove the bandages, trying not to wince along with him, as if she could feel his pain somehow. The sighs that escape him as she cleans and rubs the ointment on his wounds make the hairs at the back of her neck rise. There is an inevitable shyness when she sees the toned muscles of his chest and abs, when she visually traces the constellations of freckles and moles that dot the planes of smooth skin, when she sees the beauty that lays under the vestiges of war.

“Will I live to see my grandchildren, Nurse Ackerman?” Jean teases as she finishes up the task.

“Only if you behave, Mr. Kirschtein.” She teases back, pressing down the last new bandage, right over his heart.

Yes, she could get used to this.

It is easy and comforting, their new routine. They fall into it so naturally that they can almost ignore the cracks in the picture.

Almost.

Perhaps they were too hopeful or too confident that they wouldn’t have to hear each other’s night terrors, but that illusion breaks one night in which Mikasa’s screams fill the house.

Jean sat upright in his bed, having just woken up from his own nightmares, with every scream sending a dreadful shiver down his spine.

Nightmares were his nightly companions, and he and all his friends had become quite familiar with each other’s screams. The thought that Mikasa had to go through her nightmares alone pained him. The screams continued until he could not stand it anymore and walked out despite the tremors that were still shaking his body, reaching her room in no time. Her hands were tearing at her hair, and she was screaming Eren’s name in one instance while in another she was wailing for her mother and father.

“Mikasa, wake up!” He held both of her hands tightly while she still trashed around. After a while, her screams had been reduced to small, broken whimpers. Under his tight hold she opened her eyes abruptly - her confusion clear amongst endless tears, and she suddenly grabbed Jean forcefully by his neckline as if he were a stranger.

“It’s me Mikasa, it’s me.” Jean whispered shakily, an unbearable tension passing between them before he slowly pries her hands off him.

“Jean?” Mikasa croaked, her voice hoarse from her screams. “I’m s-I’m so sorry, Jean.”

She could barely finish her sentence before she started sobbing, loud and broken. He remained rooted in his spot, at a loss on what to do and trying to ignore his own tremors, watching the woman he loved and the former soldier he had admired for so long cry her heart out, now listening instead to the cries of a little girl still calling for her parents.

He snapped out of his daze when she grasped at his shirt as if he were a lifeline in a sea of tears. When she turned to look at him, he wondered if it was possible to have your heart torn in two just over looking at another person’s face. She looked so broken that he wanted to somehow gather her inside his heart and let her remain there for as long as she wanted.

“Wh…w…” She tried to make out amongst her whimpers.

“Easy, easy, you’re okay now,” Jean told her gently, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “What were you trying to say?”

“Why…why does it hurt so much?” She fixed him with her swollen eyes, “Why does it still hurt?”

He wished he had an answer to that. Even after all these years, he didn’t think the pain would ever really stop. So, he thinks he owes it to her to be honest.

“I don’t know, Mikasa.” He said, his voice breaking a little.

She pressed her forehead to his chest, still crying. He takes that as a cue and gently pulls her to him, an embrace that she quickly returns in such a way that they don’t know who is comforting who.

He thinks they must have remained like that for a good while, with him rocking her gently in his arms like a child while she grasped his lower back, trying to stop the tremors that were still shaking him.

The whimpers quiet down, and the tension in her body loosens, so he laid her down on the bed and waited for her to fall asleep. He made shushing noises while stroking her hand, noticing the signs of exhaustion taking over. She is looking at him with a dazed expression before tightening her hold on him.

“Jean?”

“What is it?”

“Can you stay with me?” She asks, her voice sleepy.

In any other occasion, he would have promptly denied her, deeming it too improper. But watching that look on her face and remembering the terrors that would still await him back in his room made him lose all sense.

Just one night. At least just one.

He gulped and nodded, moving to climb in and get under the covers. The immediate warmth that they feel is overwhelming, and they scramble to get closer as if each other’s touch will be enough to keep the nightmares at bay.

She listened to his heartbeat, its steady pulse lulling her to sleep. His tremors died down under the gentle press of her hand, and he followed her into slumber soon after.

They have their first sleep without nightmares in years.

The moment when she wakes up in the morning is less peaceful in a way. Mikasa shoots up in her bed, feeling an onslaught of confusion and mortification when she remembered what happened.

Jean is fast asleep, his face relaxed and somehow younger, with his arm thrown over her lap. That usual subtle guardedness that he shows now completely shed.

The sight makes her heart hammer wildly and a strange warmth spreads in her chest. Before she can dwell on it or on how much she actually liked having him pressed against her, she bolts out of her room.

She doesn’t really know where she is going but she knows she must get out of there. The cold morning air greets her as she runs out of the house, running and running until she stops, gasping for breath and resting her hands on her knees.

Mist is rolling on the gravel road, revealing the scattered houses of the village in all their simpleness. She lets the coldness settle in, obliterating the heat that had overtaken her.

This was completely unexpected, and she knew it made no sense for her to react this way when she had been the one to coax him into her bed. Yet, she also knows there’s only so much sense you can have after nightmares like theirs. It was expected that they would eventually give in to that urgency, that need to cling to each other.

A flock of birds snaps her out of her thoughts, the group flying and dipping by her house before disappearing into the nearby woodland. Soon the whole village would be waking up, and she couldn’t stay here only wearing her nightshift. She wraps her arms around herself - a futile attempt to warm herself against the cold morning air and makes her way back to the house.

The smell of coffee invades her senses when she steps in, and she sees him in the kitchen, already pouring coffee into two cups.

There’s a hint of relief in his face when he notices her, and she swallows down whatever embarrassment she still feels and greets him as usual.

He greets her back, going on to ask her what they should make for breakfast. In that way, their shyness lays forgotten and what happened earlier remains unspoken.

Their routine for the day remains as usual, and the end of their errands sees them relaxing in her backyard like always, lazily talking about nothing and everything.

When night falls, they’re ready to face whatever horrors await them in their sleep again.

This time, Mikasa is in what appears to be a forest, and it doesn’t take long before she notices that Eren is walking ahead of her. She tries to reach him, but he only drifts away further, occasionally looking back at her, green eyes glinting as if he’s playing a game with her.

The further he gets, the more desperate she becomes. She calls his name, but he gets even further away from her. Always far away, always unreachable.

Soon the woodland disappears, and a steep precipice appears ahead, but Eren doesn’t stop walking. She feels as if her feet are shackled while trying to reach him, and she cries out his name brokenly as he plunges down the precipice and disappears.

Instead of screams, she wakes up with cold shivers and a lump in her throat. Her body is pulled taut like a bowstring as she struggles to gain her breath back, trying to blink away her tears. Her only company was the shadows cast upon her room.

But she then remembered that she wasn’t alone, not exactly. In another corner of her house, Jean was slumbering, probably fighting off his nightly terrors as well. It was a never-ending cycle, and yet she can’t pretend to not remember the remedy they had found against their demons: each other.

Mikasa had always put on a hard front to everybody, but she is tired, so very tired; she doesn’t want to hide or even think logically anymore. And so, ignoring all sense she stands up and makes her way to his room, her steps only a whisper against the wooden floor.

She shouldn’t have been surprised when she saw him sitting up in his bed already, though he didn’t seem to have noticed her, looking disconcerted. In the dim light, she can see that he is paler than usual and that his eyes are wide with unshed tears. He seems to finally recognize her as she reaches for him and gently wipes away the moisture that was beginning to spill down his cheeks.

There is an unfathomable look on his face as she soothes him, and when she asks a silent question with her own red-rimmed gaze, he pauses and then moves to open the covers for her.

She doesn’t hesitate to climb in.

***

There was childish laughter coming from the large yard.

It was a comforting sight, watching the children of the orphanage go about their day, playing their little games.

Jean could barely remember the time when he was that carefree and innocent, he pondered as he walked with Armin around the establishment.

“Until wintertime then?” He asked, not knowing how to take the information.

“That’s what I’ve been told. They will pick delegates to go to each of the allied nations. Whoever remains here is still unclear.” Armin said as he walked, looking at Jean’s tired expression and keeping a close watch on Jean’s steps as he balanced himself on a cane. He rarely used it but since he had insisted that he was ready to attend meetings he started bringing it with him, the constant walking and touring taking its toll on his body.

It had been common knowledge that they would need representatives in every nation, but the fact that there was already an established time for him to possibly leave Paradis took him by surprise. There were still months left for winter, and he still hadn’t made up his mind on whether he wanted to stay or leave.

They stopped in a far corner, with Jean leaning against the wooden fence, recalling a distant memory of when he was younger and stood here with his friends. In the distance, they noticed Mikasa walking in the grassy area, inspecting a group of kids who were playing on some swing sets. She noticed both of her friends watching and they waved at each other before she focused back on the children.

“She’s been quite active here,” Armin observed.

“And yet she still feels guilty for some reason,” Jean said, fishing around his pockets until he found what he was looking for.

Armin narrowed his eyes as he watched Jean lighting up a cigarette. His friend noticed him and groaned. “What? I’ve had to deal with Mikasa scolding me already, you’re going to lecture me as well?”

“You’re still recovering from a punctured lung, Jean.”

“I’ve dealt with worse things,” Jean mumbled, exhaling puffs of smoke. He knew his friends were right, but he couldn’t help it.

He sighed and took another drag. “So, tell me about this airshow, will you? What exactly are they planning?”

“I don’t have anything to do with it, but every delegation is expected to attend of course. The Yeagerists have made sure to spend every penny on the ceremony.” Armin said as he also leaned back against the fence.

Jean snorted. “This whole thing feels like a circus, it won’t be long before they go back on their word, I’m sure.”

“Perhaps, but in the meantime, we do what we can, and what we must. Even the Yeagerists know that we have to depend on each other. Right now, we focus on peace.”

Paradis too was struggling to rise back up, with its damaged borders and the destruction of the ecosystems around the world leading to severe droughts, forest fires, and famine. If the rumbling had gone any further, there was no chance they would have survived. Currently, every country was struggling with the reforestation of their lands and developing new technologies to battle the climate crisis. The treaty would be a milestone in that direction.

“Peace is only relative,” Jean remarked.

“Of course, but we must leverage that peace, be it relative or not. I will always condemn what Eren did, but I think he would want us to take advantage of whatever chances we can take.”

“It’s not like he left us much choice,” Jean spat, and then gave a tired sigh. “But whatever is best for us, I will vouch for that and support you along the way.”

“I know you will,” Armin said, bumping Jean’s shoulder and taking in the circles under his eyes. “I don’t want you to strain yourself too much though. If you can’t attend the ceremony, I will excuse you.”

Jean shook his head, exhaling another puff of smoke. “I will be there. I won’t give those assholes the pleasure of not attending.”

Armin hummed in response. “I hear that there are many other events planned beside the ceremony for the treaty. There are rumors that sweet Vera is coming here to perform.”

Jean looked elsewhere. “I heard that as well.”

Vera was a Marleyan singer and actress who quickly rose in fame all over the continent. Her advocate work with the Alliance was well documented, as she used her cultural influence to help gather supporters and fund numerous causes. Just as her charity work was well known, so was her affair with Ambassador Kirschtein.

He had been assigned to escort her to performances and public speeches linked to their cause. One thing led to another, and it was only a matter of time before they ended up tangled between the sheets. The prospect of seeing her made him feel strange but also happy, as despite their casual flings she had also been a good friend.

“Seem like Paradis is ready to deal with the outside world, and not just through treaties,” Armin remarked.

“Oh, they’ll love her for sure, she stole hearts whenever she went,” Jean said while taking another drag.

“Did she steal yours?”

Jean rolled his eyes. “No one stole anything, she and I made our boundaries clear before we started sleeping together. It was the same for all the other women I’ve been with. They took what they wanted, and I took what I wanted.”

“You think you will ever settle down?” Armin asked.

“I don’t know…especially not after…” Jean stopped himself. “Ah, never mind.”

“I’m all ears,” Armin said, looking at him expectantly.

Jean remained quiet for such a long time that Armin thought he wouldn’t say anything at all.

“I’m in love with Mikasa,” Jean finally admitted, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Armin replied, looking at him sympathetically. “Have you tried telling her?”

“What? No, I’ll never tell her,” Jean said, dropping the cigarette and crushing it. “She doesn’t see me that way and I respect that. I’m happy as her friend.”

“You don’t believe that.” Armin had an eyebrow quirked.

“Oh, but I do, the time I’ve spent with her… it has kept me sane in a way,” Jean told him, then shaking his head. “I’m so in love with her it feels ridiculous. I can’t even think about settling down with anyone else even if I know I have no chance with her.”

“Why do you think that? You claim to respect her, but are you really doing that when you don’t even bother to know what she thinks?”

Jean scoffed. “I don’t need to ‘bother’ because I already know what she thinks. Her heart belongs to Eren, that’s a simple fact.”

It was Armin’s turn to scoff. “Eren is dead, Jean. She killed him if I may remind you, and she has always been a full, stronghearted person outside of him. You may love and cherish a memory, but there’s only so much love you can give to a dead man.”

Jean could only look away, staying quiet. Armin followed his tired gaze and found unsurprisingly fixed on Mikasa, who was now spinning a little girl in her arms.

“You may not believe me, but I’ve never seen her this relaxed and happy, not even when we were children.”

“I want her to be happy. That’s all I want.”

“Well, she looks happier than ever to me, and it’s because of you.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Jean rolled his eyes.

“I’m not trying to make you laugh, it’s just the truth. Take it from someone who practically grew up with her.” Armin insisted. “Besides, I don’t think I could make you laugh with that weary expression you’ve had all day. Have you even slept lately?”

“Mikasa kept me up last night,” Jean replied, before realizing what he said.

Armin looked embarrassed. “She…kept you up, huh?”

“Not that way I- for goodness’ sake, Armin! I would never take advantage of her like that!” Jean exclaimed, blushing furiously while Armin smirked.

“Care to explain then?”

“We…ah, we’re sharing a bed, it helps with our nightmares,” Jean explained, avoiding Armin’s curious look. “It’s just sleeping I swear, somehow…somehow it makes it easier.”

Armin nodded in understanding, thinking of the solace he and Annie had found with each other in a similar way, though it was also different since their ritual had quickly taken a much more physical level.

“You don’t have to reassure me of anything, whatever you guys do is none of my business,” Armin said. “And I know you would never take advantage of her.”

Jean said nothing, still looking at Mikasa in the distance.

“But I insist that you must be honest with her.”

“I don’t think so, Armin. Let’s leave it at that.” Jean tried to end the subject.

“I never took you for being such a pessimist. I thought you wanted to be with her since we were Scouts.”

“Even back then I was aware that there was no chance she would ever return my feelings. So, I kept my distance and ignored it. And I-well… I turned to other girls.”

Jean looked embarrassed but Armin nodded in understanding, remembering the times when Jean and Connie would come in late from having explored whatever town they were stationed in and all it had to offer. Their time in Marley had been similar in that regard, with Reiner occasionally taking part in their escapades.

“In that way, I thought I was over her for a long time. It was easy to get distracted by constant missions, carousing, and sex. I should have known my feelings would only come back stronger once I saw her again.” Jean continued, still looking ashamed. “I have accepted that I’m in love with her, but I have also accepted that I’m just her friend, and I’m happy to be that. Being by her side, that is more than enough for me.”

Armin looked at Jean and saw that he truly meant his words. While he felt bad for his friend, he also couldn’t help his frustration at his resignation.

“You make everything sound so hopeless.” The blond complained, leaning further into the fence.

Jean smiled sadly. “I am utterly hopeless when it comes to her,” he said, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it.”

“You don’t have to get over it, you can simply love unapologetically. This world…us and our friends, we have seen too much misery. We owe it to ourselves to try and get some happiness, don’t we?”

“I don’t know if that’s possible… dreams, settling down, having a family, is it all worth it when we don’t know if this so-called peace will even last?”

Armin fixed him with his gaze. “It is worth it every bit,” he affirmed. “I have to believe that because…well, I want to tell you something.”

Jean looked at him curiously as Armin fidgeted with his hands. “I uh…I am planning to propose to Annie.”

A small silence passed between them before Jean’s face broke into pure happiness despite his tiredness.

“That’s-that’s amazing, Armin! I’m proud of you.” Jean said gleefully as he stepped forward to hug his friend tightly and pat his back.

“Hey! I haven’t even asked her yet and we don’t know if she’ll say yes!” Armin laughed, still hugging Jean back.

“Of course, she’ll say yes you idiot,” Jean said. “She looks at you as if the sun shines out of your ass.”

They both laughed before separating, still holding onto each other’s arms. “I don’t know how any of this works, but would you be my best man?”

Jean was already nodding before Armin finished his sentence. “Of course, of course, I’ll do it.”

“Good, because I have no idea what to do after I ask her.”

“And you think I do?” Jean countered, and they both laughed out loud again before continuing their walk, feeling much more at ease than before and enjoying the light breeze. There was still a lot of apprehension clouding Jean’s mind, but for now, he was glad that his friend wanted to take his chance at happiness. A glimmer of hope in the midst of uncertainty. For now, he could be happy about that.

***

The planes were flying at a safe distance, yet it felt as if they could graze the onlookers in a heartbeat. There was a cacophony of cheers, music, chatter, and roars from the planes that were flying overhead.

It seemed surreal that this was happening. It was almost as if all the hatred and tension that their visit had brought was broken, now replaced by celebration and merriment. The cheers came and went the same way the steel birds flew and dipped across the blue sky.

Jean had stood on the stage at the town square some hours ago, tall and defiant despite the scars he bore underneath his formal clothing and the cane that signified his survival.

His presence had given everyone much to talk about, some in puzzlement and others in admiration. He gave a speech with no problem and made sure to look at every Yeagerist official directly in the eye as they shook hands, silently telling them that this was his home.

Now he stood at the edges of the city that overlooked an extensive lake, watching with the members of the delegation as planes flew in unpredictable ways overhead, a sign of progress and more things to come.

He leaned against the railing, looking at the other delegations on the lower levels. Standing amongst the Hizurian delegation was Mikasa, who was also focused on the aerial spectacle while exchanging words with Kiyomi. Even with her small height the Hizurian diplomat still had an imposing presence whenever she went.

Almost as if Mikasa had felt the weight of his stare, she suddenly turned her head and found his gaze. Normally he would have been flustered but watching the smile that she gave him made him feel calm even in the middle of all the excitement that was happening around them. He smiled back before Kiyomi got her attention again and he turned back to the planes.

The sight of the planes flying and turning across the sky made him feel a small ache as he remembered Hange. He was sure the late commander would have loved this. Her excitement over all things unknown had left a huge gap amongst the former soldiers. Now all they could do was continue their endeavors for peace, just as she would have wanted.

He was hit by a barrage of memories as he watched, also wondering how Levi was faring while also finding reassurance in knowing that he was in good company and getting the rest he deserved. But just as he remembered past recollections, a small hidden memory surged up to the surface of his mind, now clear and prominent.

I liked you Mikasa, you know? I think I even loved you, since we were trainees.

No, it couldn’t be.

I wish he was here, I wish I could bring him back. I’m sorry I can’t do anything, I’m so sorry Mikasa…

The strange behavior Mikasa sometimes showed around him now made sense, and Jean suddenly felt as if he were about to vomit, his face blanching.

He had resolved to be Mikasa’s friend and not make things strange between them. But he had failed with flying colors.

With one last glance at Mikasa- who was still engaged in conversation, he backed away and left the compound, ignoring the questioning stares from his friends.

He walked as fast as he could even in his delicate state, immune to the fanfare around him and feeling absolutely mortified.

Way to go, dumbass.

#jeankasa #snk #attack on titan #jean kirstein #mikasa ackerman #hope all the tags work this time

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barbershop-fourtet · 4 years

Text

So the weekly prompt on the discord was “Shake It Up” and this fic fits that in a few ways. I’ve had it sitting unfinished for a few months, so I finally decided to finish it as a LW, which was something that I didn’t have much experience in (it would have been my first, but a conversation in the creators’ lounge led to me getting super excited over another idea and LWing that one the day before I finished this one). Also, I mostly write angst, so I wanted to focus on one of my fluff pieces this week. I didn’t edit it as much as I would have liked, but I’m still pretty satisfied with the results.

Anyway, enjoy a Four sickfic with a side of dad!Time.

~~~

“Hey Four, are you feeling okay?”

Hyrule’s concerned statement caught Time’s attention. Turning toward the back of the group, he caught a glimpse of Four’s slightly startled expression. “I’m… fine, why do you ask?”

“You’ve been lagging behind a bit, are you tired? I’m sure we can rest if you need.”

Four waved him off. “I’ve just got a slight headache and I’m a bit dizzy, there’s not much you can do about that and it’ll probably be fine soon enough anyway.”

Hyrule didn’t look convinced, but relented, opting instead to walk alongside the smithy. “Alright, but if you need anything, I’m sure we’d all be willing to stop.”

“He’s right,” Time called back from the front of the group. “We’d rather you be feeling alright than have you burn yourself out.”

“I know, but it’s not worth stopping for. Really, I’m fine, we can keep going.”

Time didn’t miss the slight hesitation in his voice, but let it slide, and the group continued on. Every so often, he could hear Hyrule checking up on Four, but his exact response was lost over the din of the group. He trusted that the traveler could keep a close eye on Four and gauge whether he was able to continue or not.

Sure enough, after only a couple hours Hyrule called up to Time at the front of the group. “We need to stop for the night, Four needs to rest.”

“What, I’m fine, what are you talking about…”

“Four…” Sky whispered, gentle concern in his voice, “I know you want to keep going, but... you’re really not.”

Time only had to take one look at Four to see what they were referencing. He was incredibly pale, and even from this distance Time could tell he was shivering, despite how warm it was outside. Despite his insisting words, he was leaning almost entirely onto Hyrule, unable to stand on his own.

Despite this, he persisted. “No, it’s fine, we’re not too far, I can make it.” But even as he said this, he pressed himself further into Hyrule, the other boy wrapping his arm around the shivering smithy.

The group had stopped walking at this point, all of them looking at him with concern. Time made his way toward Four, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I know you don’t want to slow us down, but we’d rather stop and let you rest before trying to continue. Are you willing to stop for now?”

The teen was silent for a few moments, and Time thought he would continue to fight, but he eventually muttered a small “alright, if… if you insist.”

Time nodded, then turned to address the rest of the group. “We’ll stop here for now. Let’s make camp and settle in for the night. I know it’s early, but the sooner we let Four rest, the sooner he’ll be better.”

They all nodded, grabbing their gear from Epona and setting up for the evening. As Hyrule walked by, Time grabbed his sleeve. “Would you mind staying with Four and looking after him tonight? I’d feel best if he wasn’t left to do his own thing.”

He nodded. “I can’t stay up all night with him, but I’ll keep an eye on him until night falls.”

“That’s fine, whoever is on watch can check on him occasionally, but I want someone making sure he doesn’t try anything stupid until he falls asleep. He’s smart, but he’s also just as stubborn as the rest of us, and probably doesn’t like the fact that we had to stop for him. He needs to rest, otherwise he won’t be ready to keep moving.”

Hyrule nodded, then made his way over to Wild, who was digging through his bag beside Epona. A few whispered words were exchanged, then Wild pressed a piece of flint and some firewood into Hyrule’s arms. He took a few steps away toward a clear piece of earth, and within moments a small blaze was crackling gently.

Returning to Four, he gently grasped the smaller boy’s arm and led him over to the fire, sitting him down closeby. Despite his earlier words, Four didn’t protest, only curling in on himself and leaning closer to the warmth.

Sky walked past, shrugging off his sailcloth and wrapping it around the smithy, earning him a grateful look. Twilight did similarly with his pelt, then Warriors with his scarf and Wild with his cloak, until Four was buried under a pile of warmth.

The evening proceeded mostly as normal, the notable exception being Hyrule’s insistence that he help Four eat. Four probably would have rolled his eyes and turned down the help, except for that fact that he was both too weak to lift his bowl, and that his hands were still trapped under all the fabric.

As the sun started to set, his head began to bob as he started nodding off by the fire.

Hyrule was quick to notice this. “Come on, it’s late and you need rest. Let’s get you to bed.”

“Wait.” They both turned at Legend’s voice, watching him dig through his bag. “I’ve got just the thing in here that should help- aha!” Pulling out a small bottle, he tossed it to Hyrule. “This won’t get rid of whatever he’s dealing with, but it should help it pass quicker.”

Hyrule nodded, letting Four down the potion before helping him take off his tunic and settle into the pile of blankets the others had set up for him.

The others, taking this as the cue that the day was over, began settling into their own bedrolls, Hyrule placing himself by the fire to keep the first watch.

~~~

When Warriors had woken him up, he'd said that his watch was uneventful, and a few hours later, Time was finding his own to be similar. Good. It would be best to have an easy night, Four definitely needed rest.

And speaking of Four…

Time leaned over and shook Sky gently, waiting a few moments for him to wake up.

“My turn?”

“Yup.”

He nodded, reaching for his gear and beginning to slip it on. “Alright. How’s Four doing?”

“I was about to check on him. Keep an eye on things, would ya?”

“Of course.”

With that, Time stood, walking over to his blankets and stripping off his armor. Dropping it beside the rest of his gear, he carefully picked his way through the tangle of bodies until he could kneel down at the smithy’s side.

The boy was restless, tossing and turning every few seconds. His shivering had stopped hours prior, but where his skin was once pale, it was now flushed a deep red. His breathing was slightly strained, and when Time put his palm against his forehead, he almost flinched at how hot it burned.

Legend’s potion seemed to be working though. Already a thin sheen of sweat beaded his skin, indicating that his fever had broken. If it continued at this pace, he’d probably be well by morning.

Time was almost too caught up in his thoughts to see Four’s eyes flutter open, glazed over as he glanced at the older man. He started slightly as Four shifted under his hand, moaning slightly as he turned his neck to face Time.

“Hey kid, how are you feeling?”

He mumbled something incoherent, but before Time could ask for clarification, he began to sit up, whining softly as his body protested the movement.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there, it’s been a rough day for you.”

“...”

“Pardon?”

“I have to get up.”

“No you don’t, you need to keep resting, besides it’s late.”

“I can’t, you always complain when I sleep in late and you have to start up the forge without me.”

...now Time was confused. Was Four delirious? Did he think he was talking to someone else?

As quick as he could, Time racked his brain. Four had mentioned the forge, which meant there was someone he worked with as a blacksmith. The only other blacksmith Four had ever mentioned had been-

Oh Hylia, Four had mistaken Time for his grandfather.

“Wait, Four, I’m not-”

Time paused. Four always spoke of his grandfather so affectionately, but also with a tinge of sadness. Despite his experience being away from home, it was clear that the long separation from his only family member was difficult for him.

He certainly wasn’t any less capable or mature than the others but… he was still a kid, far from home and missing his family. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to fib a little this one time. Besides, he wasn’t likely to remember it anyway.

Lowering himself fully to the ground, Time grasped Four’s hand in his own. “Don’t worry about it, Link. I can manage on my own, you go back to sleep so you get better.”

Four looked conflicted. “Are you sure? I may not be at my best, but I can still help out a bit. I’m probably gonna have trouble falling asleep again anyway.”

“It’s fine. Lay back down, and I’ll stay with you until you’re asleep again.”

“No, it’s fine! You can go get things started for t-”

“Link. It’s fine, I want to help you.”

Four hesitated, and Time thought he would keep fighting, but after a few moments, he relented. “O-okay then, I guess if you don’t mind.”

Time nodded, expecting him to lay back down as he had been before.

But Four apparently had other plans, and decided to turn and curl up right next to the older man, slinging one arm around his waist as he settled beside him.

Time stiffened, but Four’s tension quickly began to disappear as he relaxed into Time’s side. He was about to say something, or subtly move Four off of him, but then-

“Thanks grandpa.”

-and Time’s heart melted a little, and there was no chance that he could move away now. Wrapping an arm around Four, he gently lowered them both onto the ground, him laying flat and Four’s body resting on his own, blankets strewn around them. Four hummed softly, pressing his ear to Time’s chest, letting his echoing heartbeat soothe him, and Time couldn’t help but imagine that this was what it was like to have a child, to be a father. To have a child. He and Malon hadn’t had that opportunity yet, but since he’d met them, these boys were his sons.

He couldn’t deny it- that was what they were to him. As mature and capable as they all were, they would always have that place in his heart.

Time was silent, trying to comprehend the wave of emotion that was crashing over him, when Four hoarsely spoke up.

“...I don’t feel great.”

He chuckled softly, conscious of how Four bounced with the movement of his chest and not wanting to disturb him. “You had a pretty bad fever, you need to rest and you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“...I can’t wait to get better so I can introduce you to my friends, they’re really nice people.”

Oh, this will be interesting. “I can’t wait to meet them, they sound wonderful.”

Four nodded, curling further into Time’s side. “They are. We’re always looking out for each other, and despite everything they’ve been through, they’re some of the sweetest, softest people you'll ever meet.” He paused. “Being with the other guys… it’s kinda like when I was four… being in a group is nice, ‘cause I don’t have to be alone.”

Time wasn’t sure what had happened when the boy was four years old, but it was probably good, given how fondly he was speaking of it.

“They’re really crazy and wild, and some of ‘em are pretty hotheaded, but they all care about each other… and me.” Time couldn’t see his face, but he could hear the smile in Four’s voice. “Especially Time, he’s really great. He acts all stoic and serious but…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t remember dad much, but… I imagine that he was something like Time, always so loving and caring, always looking out for us. We’re not blood related, but he’s… he’s like our dad, you know?” His head drooped as he began to nod off again, not noticing the emotion he was causing in Time. “He’s a really good dad, too…”

Time was not crying. He was not.

“Anyway, I can’t wait for you to see them. I think you’ll love them too.” He yawned, the last of the tension leaving his body. “...g’night grandpa. I love you.”

...okay maybe he was crying. “...goodnight Link. I love you too.”

~~~

Time woke to the feeling of Four stirring beside him. Lifting his head, he cracked his eye open to see the smithy blinking at him, eyes still bleary with sleep. “T-Time?” he croaked out. He coughed a bit, voice hoarse from sickness and disuse. “What- where…?”

“You were sick, remember? We stopped to let you rest.” Leaning over, he rested his hand on Four’s temple, noting with pleasure how much it had cooled overnight, with only a bit of sweat still covering his skin.

He blinked, squinting as he tried to recall the previous night. “...oh.” He glanced at Time, a tense look on his face as he reached for his gear. “Uh, I didn’t say or do anything weird, did I? I have a tendency to get pretty delirious when I have a fever.”

“...you were a bit… affectionate, but that’s it about it.”

“Oh.” He relaxed a little, fingering the stitching of his tunic before pulling it over his head. “That’s good, because I tend to ramble about weird things when I’m sick, so I didn’t want to confuse any of you or something.”

Time nodded, glancing to where Wild was dishing up food from a cooking pot over the fire. “It looks like breakfast is ready, do you want me to grab you some?”

“No, I can get it, I’m-” Four stood, only to wobble and fall back onto his knees. “...okay maybe that would help.”

Time chuckled, reaching over to ruffle Four’s hair. “Stay here and get yourself a bit more awake, I’ll bring you something.”

He stood, but was distracted by a small noise from Four. He turned, noting the contemplative look on the smith’s face, and kneeled down beside him.

“Are you alright?”

“Huh?” He glanced up, realizing that Time was still watching. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine, just thinking about something.” He paused, hands clenched in his blanket. “Last night, I- did you… I had this dream that…” His gaze dropped to his lap, watching his fingers twist his blanket into knots. “...nevermind, it’s probably nothing.” He smiled gently as he glanced back up. “Thanks for all your help.”

Time nodded, rising off the ground to check what Wild was cooking.

As he was walking away, he heard Four mumble something behind him.

He glanced back over his shoulder, noting the way Four’s cheeks were red and he was refusing to meet Time’s eye. “Pardon?”

His blush deepened before he met Time’s gaze with a soft look in his eyes. His response was a soft whisper, but Time heard it clear as day.

“Thanks, dad.”

~Bonus~

They emerged from the portal, looking around to see if any of them recognized the area.

All of them except Four, who immediately let out a surprised cheer.

“This is the Minish Woods! We’re not too far from my house, we can head there to rest up.”

Time nodded. “Lead on then, the sooner we’re there, the sooner we can plan our next move.”

Four grinned, grabbing the closest hand- Wild’s- and dragging it down the path between the trees.

“We landed right by the entrance of the woods, and it’s only a short walk from there, hurry up!”

They hurried after him, amused by his excitement, until they reached the door of a lone house.

Four didn’t hesitate, opting to throw it open and yell “Grandpa, I’m home!”

...no response came.

Four frowned, eyes searching the room, before walking into a side room, calling out for his grandfather again.

He returned to the main room, a concerned look on his face. “I don’t understand, he’s normally here, working in the forge, I don’t know why-”

“Of course it’s when I decide to leave for just a few minutes that my grandson comes home.”

Four’s face split into the biggest grin imaginable as he raced forward and tackled the man in the doorway.

“Good to see you again kid, but where have you been, young man?”

Four giggled, pulling back slightly and wiping a few tears off his cheeks. “The same old hero-ing, you know how it is.”

“Of course I do, it took you away from home for long enough when you were young. Well-” he glanced at the others, who were watching the reunion from a respectful distance. “Younger, at least. Younger than these boys, by any means. I’m assuming these are the ones you’ve been writing me so many letters about?”

Four nodded eagerly, stepping back and gesturing for the others to come closer. “Yeah! These are my friends that I’ve wanted you to meet.”

The introductions went smoothly, with a few rolled eyes (Legend when Four called him a hoarder) and shy looks (Wild when Four referred to him as a pyro).

And then Four got around to introducing Time.

“This is…” Four blushed, his gaze dropping to his shuffling feet. “This is… well, he’s the responsible one of the group, kinda like… the dad. He’s the one doing his best to keep us from doing something stupid.”

Smith- as he’d asked them to call him- laughed, extending a hand toward Time. “Well, it’s nice to see that there’s someone keeping an eye out for my boy.”

Time smiled, clasping his outstretched arm and shaking firmly. “He does that well enough on his own, actually. If anything, he helps me keep the other wild ones in line.”

“Well, you’ve only seen what’s happened when he’s alone. If there were four just like him, well, that’d be-”

“Aaaaaand that’s enough of that story! I’m sure we can have time for stuff like that later,” Four cut in, cheeks red. “They, uh, don’t need to know that kind of stuff, grandpa.”

“Oh, you’ve been pretty mature around them, haven’t you? They haven’t seen your… colorful side, have they?”

Four pouted. “No, they haven’t seen it yet, and I don’t feel like changing that right now.”

Smith chuckled, wrapping his arm around Four’s shoulder. “Well, that’s too bad. All the same, I missed you, kid.”

Four sighed, leaning into his grandfather’s embrace, a content smile on his face. “I missed you too, grandpa.”

#linkeduniverse #linked universe

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crushing-on-nico-di-angelo · 3 years

Text

Okay, here's the actual chapter 3

7 Nights in Cabin 13

Nico took a small step backwards. “I’m sorry,” Will hesitated. “I shouldn’t have asked you, I know you probably don’t want to and--”

“Hey, woah, I never said I didn’t want to. I was just shocked. Not everyday I get asked to sleep with someone-- I- I mean… you know what I mean.”

Will giggled. “So does this mean you do want to?”

“...Yeah. I guess it does.”

Read (and maybe give kudos?) on ao3

~~~~

Lying in Nico’s bed, side by side, wasn’t as awkward as Will thought it would be. The comforter was very comforting and warm. The warmth of Nico made his heart beat faster, he hadn’t slept next to anyone since he was about seven years old having a nightmare about goats and crawled into his mami’s bed.

Nico turned to him, so Will made the necessary adjustments.

“I hope you don’t mind that I kept the window open. The light… helps.”

“I’m the son of Apollo, Neeks. I don’t mind at all.” Nico’s face softened. Will stared at his eyes, and he swore there was a universe of activity and stars in a dark brown expanse. He was lost in trying to pinpoint every constellation that he didn’t notice Nico’s hand reaching for his hair until he felt the tentative ruffle.

“Ah, sorry. I can stop if you’d like. Bianca…” Nico cleared his throat. “Bianca used to do this to me when I was having trouble sleeping.”

“Don’t stop,” Will murmured, once again feeling the effects of sleepiness. “Please.”

Nico closed his eyes and continued softly playing with Will’s hair. Will was simultaneously hyper-aware of how nice it felt to have someone play with his hair and extremely at peace, letting sleep overtake him.

A wedding. Drinking gasoline. Pain in his right leg. Silence; eternal, deafening silence.

When Will opened his eyes, he was acutely aware of the hand resting on his head. A bit of drool was pooled underneath his chin, but how could he move when Nico was still asleep holding his head? Nothing to do now but stay still and think.

Alright Solace… I’ve been putting it off too long. How did I get here? …Nathan is how. But I don’t want to think about him. Which is fine, because I haven’t seen him in years, so I can’t exactly pin this on him. How did I get here now? ...I got into my head again is how.

He remembers it, his relapse, but not exactly.

He was showing Clarisse how to complete an advanced archery move. He may not have been the best in comparison to his siblings, but he and Clarisse had been best friends after the Battle of Manhattan. They had gotten clean together. He had to help her with the archery.

But then. The way he positioned Clarisse’s arm. He remembered that was exactly how Fletcher positioned his. He remembered Michael doing the same for other campers. He finished teaching Clarisse the move and left to go to the showers.

He pushed the thought out of his mind-- or, he tried to. He couldn’t think of anything at all, and his breathing was getting so, so heavy. He turned on the water to hide the noises he was making, hyperventilating. They were dead, they were dead, and he knew they were dead. Why couldn’t he get it through that thick skull of his? He knew they were dead he saw it happen, saw the bridge collapse. But it was all he could think of, all just looping through his mind, over and over and over. No release. No end in sight to the looping thoughts. Breathing breathing breathing only not in the way he was supposed to. Suffocating on too much air and not enough oxygen.

And then the dysphoria kicked in.

His chest hurt. His chest hurt so fucking much. In addition to the binding he was doing, he was breathing so, so hard. He wanted to take the binder off, but his clothes were too wet and it was stuck. Thoughts looping, never stopping. Dead, dead, dead. Never going to be a real man. The sound of the explosion being nothing and everything to him all at once. Losing the first person to help him. Wanting so badly to hurt himself but having nothing to do so with. And then remembering what he did in the following months.

He let the water of the shower run over his soaked clothes while he focused on what he did after they died. The Hypnos cabin, they helped him forget it, but in the wake of his panic attack he remembered where he put them.

The last of his stash.

The next thing he knew, he was frantically searching for pennies with a flashlight in a camp that didn’t even use American currency-- his mind finally off his dead siblings-- at midnight outside of the Hades cabin. And thank Zeus for that.

...He was a weak person. As soon as things got tough, he went with the convenient solution. He’d always been a bad friend and a bad son because of it, and he likely always would be. Things got better for a bit, but looking at himself now? How could he ever think of himself as a good person after this, when it’s clear that he’ll always be fucking… weak like this….

This wasn’t something he was going to forgive himself for anytime soon. Not at all. Especially not for concerning Nico like this. He could have handled himself.

Could I have handled myself? he wondered. Nico shifted in his sleep, his arm now draping over Will’s shoulder. Does it even matter right now? It’s too late to change it.

He tried to settle into sleep again, but he found that he couldn’t. He also didn’t want to think anymore about what happened to get him here in the first place, when he could be messing around with his friends and cabin-mates while canoeing. He could be trying for the camp record on the lava wall. He could be doing a million things… but he fucked it up. Gods, he already said he didn’t want to think about it. So why was he?

He sighed softly, not wanting to disturb Nico. He snuggled into Nico’s embrace, not realizing how close they had gotten when they were asleep. His nose was nearly touching Nico’s and he noticed the faint freckles splashed over his nose and under his eyes. They were so light that you had to be inches away to notice them, but Will suspected that he would only notice them from now on. Just like his eyes, Will felt compelled to trace out constellations.

Will had posters and posters back in his home in Austin about stars and space exploration. He memorized constellations and had a hyperfixation on planets from ages seven to eleven. He still had all of that knowledge in his head, and it was remarkable to him how many constellations he found on Nico’s face. He pulled one of his hands from under the covers and started going over them, trying not to touch Nico’s face. He did lightly trace Nico’s nose, and was surprised when Nico didn’t even stir. He started feeling more and more relaxed, tracing what was almost the big dipper; he eventually fell asleep again with his hand cupping Neek’s cheeks.

He dreamt rough dreams, but was fortunate enough to wake up not remembering any of them.

~~~~~~

Will woke up and felt an absence of warmth. He saw Nico leaning against the doorframe, his silhouette framed by the hall light. He stood there, unmoving. Will would have wondered if he had fallen asleep again if not for the fact that he was standing fully upright. Nico knocked gently on the wood of the frame before walking away. Will wondered what that was all about but didn’t want to ask. He stood from the bed and walked to Nico’s bathroom to splash his face. He stood up and was hit with dizziness. There was a clock by Nico’s bed which read ‘8 P.M.’

“Ah,” he murmured himself. “That’s it.”

He fell asleep with Nico at around noon, which meant he hadn’t eaten in nearly 8 hours. He shivered from the cold. He grabbed a jacket hanging from the bed and walked out.

“Hey, Neeks,” Will felt a bit odd. They had been so intimate with each other earlier, he wondered if that would make things awkward between them.

“Hello, William. How’d you sleep?” Nico seemed to not mind, so Will decided to play it cool.

“Alright. I dreamt, so…”

Nico chuckled. “So not the best it could have been. I made us pot pie, it’s in the oven right now.”

“Holy shit, deathboy. You always cook so much?” Nico smiled and shook his head.

“Just felt like it lately, I suppose. It’s almost ready, grab a seat.”

~~~~~

After about an hour of eating and delirious laughter, it suddenly came to light that Nico had never played 20 questions.

“What the hell do you mean you’ve never played?” Will was incredulous. “Didn’t you used to go to boarding school?” Nico was still grinning from the laughter.

“Well, yes but I was around 10 years old! I didn’t play games like that.” Will shook his head in disbelief.

“We’re remedying that today, di Angelo.”

“How do you play?”

“I ask you a question, you answer it, and then you ask me and I answer. The cycle continues until we each ask 20 questions.”

Nico hummed to himself. “Is anything off-limits?”

Will knew what he didn’t want him to ask, but instead said, “On my end? No. Is there anything you don’t want me to ask you?”

“...I suppose not.”

“Alright. Feel free to say ‘skip’ for any question. No big deal, I’ll just ask a new one.”

“Alright. Do you go first or me?”

Will always liked to ask the same question during 20 questions. “If you had the chance to have dinner with anyone, living or dead, who would it be?”

“Hm…” Nico took a deep breath. “Does my mother count?”

Will’s breath hitched. “She-- she does,” Treat it normal, Solace. “She seems like she’d be a good choice. She died in the 50’s?”

“30’s, actually. Right before I was moved to the Lotus Hotel.”

“...Oh. I’m sorry, Nico.” Nico waved him off.

“It’s fine, I was little. There’s just… so much I wish I knew, you know?”

“For sure…” Gods, this poor kid. “Still, I’m sorry. You were just a kid.”

“Yeah, well. Anyway. My turn, right?”

Will could tell that conversation was over, so he nodded.

“What’s your tattoo?” Nico asked, to which Will smiled.

“It’s… here.” He pulled down his shirt enough for the sun to show. Nico leaned forward to get a closer look.

“It’s really pretty. I saw it on that first night after you showered. Why did you get it?”

“Lee Fletcher.”

“Lee Fletcher? Who’s that?”

And who was Lee Fletcher? Lee Fletcher was the man who meant everything to Will. He had a mom and two sisters, and no father. Lee Fletcher was the first guy in his life to act as a guardian to him. He was four years older and always acted as an older brother even before Will knew that Lee was a guy. Lee taught Will archery and how to talk to girls. Later, Lee would teach him to talk to boys. Lee was powerful and smart. He was so, so brave. He would heal people just by singing to them. He was everything that Will wanted to be.

After he died, Will was inconsolable. Of course, during the war he was fine. He was cool and collected: a healer, the child of Apollo. But after? He started sneaking out more, trying to escape everything and everyone. Started drinking more… that’s when he met Nathan. He knew that wasn’t the question, though. Lee Fletcher, the memory of Lee Fletcher, is what kept him going through the darkest time in his life. He owed the world to him.

“Lee Fletcher… well…”

#i pinkie promise this is the real one #fanfiction #7 nights in cabin 13 #seven nights in cabin thirteen #lee fletcher #will solace #apollo cabin #hades cabin #nico di angelo #solangelo #solangelo fic #multichapter fic #fanfic #fic #ao3 #archive of our own #writing

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tales-unique · 3 years

Text

MEMORIES OF THE WEST

Two days. Two long, hot days you’ve been tied to this damn tree. Your mother would be turning in her grave over how easily you’ve gotten yourself caught by the O’Driscolls, even when you knew that they were notorious for prowling the roads leading in and out of towns. Craning your head you look up through squinted eyes to look at the sky through scattered branches, calm and clear, painted a beautiful gradient of orange, red and pink as the sun begins to set. Almost three days now and you’ve had nothing to eat or drink, something that’s starting to take its toll on your body and mind. Your head pounds incessantly and your stomach growls weakly, making you twist in discomfort. The bite of the ropes around your wrists soon stops the movement though and you wince at the sharp, stinging pain left in their wake. At this point all you truly beg for is death, and maybe this time you’ll get what you ask for.

You glare at the returning party as they whoop and holler about their catch, turning their horses in circles in excitement while you stare wantonly at the deer they have. They catch you, of course, and one is quick to dismount and get right up in your face about it. “Got a problem, girl?” He’s a mean man that reeks of sweat and bad tobacco, the scent so sour you recoil as far away from him as your punished body, and the tight bindings, will allow you. “I’m starving!” You hiss, but it’s pitiful and he laughs. “Too bad. Ain't enough to go around.” “Liar! That’s a whole damn deer you got there! Please, I’m starving! I jus’ need a little!” Your hunger makes you desperate and he knows that. The grin he gives you is dirty and makes your skin crawl, twisting your body to try and get out of his reach. It’s futile, and soon dirt-smeared hands are roughly grabbing at your waist to pull you back in front of him. “Y’hear that boys?” He calls out to the others, laughing as they whistle while hitching the horses, “little thing is starving! Tell me girl, whatcha willing to do to get a meal, huh?” You turn your head away as he leans in close, fighting the urge to wretch. The feel of his hands sliding down to your backside, the heat of his breath tickling your ear and cheek, makes you want to vomit. “C’mon now,” he coos at you, “dont’cha want to eat? All I ask for is a kiss!” Despite his forceful coaxing and your limited range of movement you continue, by some miracle, to evade his crusted, cracked lips. Then, all hell breaks loose. All at once there’s the thundering of horses hooves on the dry dirt, bullets screaming through the humid air, warm splatter on your face. A hole right through your would-be rapists head, his wide eyes mirroring yours before he falls down at your feet, lifeless. You stand, rooted to the spot just as the tree firmly pressed against your back is as the others scramble to form some sort of meager defiance, but they’re no match. It doesn’t take long. Like fish in a barrel. The O’Driscolls barely had time to reach for their pistols before they, too, were gunned down. The horses, spooked, whine and stomp from where they’ve been hitched and you’re glad that they’re not hurt. One of the riders seems so too as he gets down from his own mount to inspect them. His figure is hazy from the dust but you can tell he’s tall and strong and attractive. You’re sure that he’s talking, too, but you can’t hear him. The ringing in your ears is too loud. Gunshots. Blood pumping. Adrenaline. You hazard another look down at your feet, the man's lifeless body draining out before you. His blood stains your shoes. You spit on his back. Good riddance. “Hey! Are you okay?” The voice, suddenly clear, startles you and you quickly flick wide eyes to another man approaching you. The second rider? He’s well dressed and attractive too, but you’re not about to swoon at his feet. “Get back!” You shriek, fear spiking. He stops, startled, while quickly holding his hands up in surrender. “Easy there, amiga, I won’t hurt you,” he states slowly. You don’t believe a word of it. Instead you try, in vain, to pull your hands free from the ropes so you can flee. He sees this and hurries over to you, cursing under his breath at the wounds you’re inflicting on yourself in your haste. You don’t care. You try to fight him; kick him, elbow him, even snapping your teeth at him in a bite that doesn’t quite reach. You don’t trust him. You can’t trust him. Pressure releases from around your wrists and you stumble sideways, suddenly free, the ropes cut by an intricately decorated and expensive-looking knife that somehow manages to miss your flesh. Now you’ve fallen onto the ground face to face with the dead man with a bullet hole through his head, the force of your struggling having caused your fall down. Ignoring the stinging, open burns to your wrists you quickly scramble to your feet. Hair stringy with stale sweat and fresh blood, clothes smeared and ruined, delirious with heat and adrenaline, you still try to run. Hands firmly planting themselves on your arms stop you before you’ve even started and you yell out, wanting to pull away but your body doesn’t respond properly. Short, jerky movements but nothing that actually helps. White hot panic floods your empty stomach as you realize you’re too weak and that the adrenaline isn’t enough anymore. You suck in a deep breath, eyes beginning to sting despite your best intentions. You will yourself not to cry in front of the quiet man before you, but again you fail. You whimper, trying desperately in vain to wriggle free. You babble pitifully, incoherently, with a quivering lip and glossy eyes; childish. But his dark eyes are kind, even after what he’s done, and he slowly lets you go, only to catch you when you stumble forward. “You’ve been out here too long,” he mutters, voice low and comforting, “heat, starvation, you’re weak. Come on.” He gently guides you to his horse, much to his partners annoyance. “Charles, what are you doing? We can’t take her with us!” He argues. “Can’t leave her, either,” Charles counters as he heaves you onto the saddle where you clutch at the saddle horn for dear life. The two men then lead the hitched horses, consolation prizes for the few minutes of trouble, as well as take the deer that had been caught. “Or do you want her death on your conscience, Javier?” Charles grunts as he tightens knots and secures ropes, eyeing his partner expectantly when he’s met with silence. The well dressed man, Javier, grumbles something you can’t hear and mounts his own horse, Charles following suit, coming to sit in the saddle behind you. “Didn’t think so,” he chuckles, low and smooth, and you lower your head to stare at the saddle horn gripped tight in your hands. You don’t say a word. Would it even matter if you did? It’s not like you’re in a state to challenge them, so you allow yourself to fall into unconsciousness lulled by the sway of the horse and the sounds of night insects rousing from their sleep. When you finally come to you take a look at your surroundings. Trees. Tents. Campfires. It’s larger and you feel your heartbeat quicken. You want to run but you can’t, you’re still on Charles' horse with the large man pressed in behind you, arms either side as he handles the reins. There are more people here, men and women alike, and you shrink back against Charles instinctively. “Where are we?” You ask hoarsely, throat scratchy and dry. “Home, for now at least,” Charles answers, pulling his horse over to a hitching post while Javier does the same. He barely disturbs you as he dismounts, helping ease you off the saddle and onto shaky legs. “Dutch won’t like this!” Javier grouses as he too dismounts his horse, allowing it to wander to a patch of grass to graze. Charles doesn’t answer, instead leading you towards three women sitting around a campfire. They’re having a hearty conversation when you’re put upon them, feeling awkward under their shocked gazes. They talk over each other quickly but the general consensus is who the hell are you and why are you here. “Ladies,” he lifts his hand to quiet them, the other gently squeezing your shoulder, “I hope you don’t mind taking care of our friend here? She’s had a rough couple of days.” You swallow, looking down at yourself. Bloodstained. Stinking. Traumatized. Rough doesn’t come close, you think. “Jesus, Mary, Joseph, Charles! Bring her here!” One of the women growls, ushering you to sit by the fire despite her anger. Probing hands go to touch your head, the side where your hair hangs limp with blood, but you pull away quickly. “Ain’t my blood,” you murmur and the women all share looks before the first, already stinking of whiskey, giggles with a snort. “I’d hate t’ see the other guy!” It’s an attempt to lighten the mood and you force a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes and they notice. “I’ll go get you something to get clean with, a wipe down will do ‘till we can get you a real bath,” another offers in a soft voice, kind and smiling warmly. You watch her put the book in her hands aside as she gets up, eyes trailing after her. “That’s Mary-Beth,” the blonde introduces, “I’m Karen and that there’s Tilly,” she motions with a half empty bottle to the young woman opposite you. “Just what happened to you, anyways?” Tilly asks, leaning in from where she sits on a log, “Yeah, you look half-dead!” Karen adds, scowling when Tilly sends a glare her way. “I...” You cough, gladly accepting a bottle from Karen and tipping it back without so much as a thank you. Manners be damned, you were so thirsty! The alcohol burns down your throat and your eyes sting with tears but by God it was a welcome flood. Karen cheers while Tilly shakes her head, rolling her eyes. As you gasp for air Mary-Beth returns with a bucket of water and a rag, setting them down by your side. She’s also taken the liberty of bringing you some food. It’s nothing fancy, a small bowl of leftover stew and a crust of bread, but you gratefully accept and begin your ravenous feast. It’s definitely a sight for them to behold, but you are starving so they can excuse your table manners. In between shoveling spoonfuls of stew you listen to the argument you’ve caused, Charles and Javier’s voices are known to you while the others are new. They aren’t happy that you were brought to their camp, but Charles argues that you were in need and he wasn’t going to leave you traumatized and starving on the roadside. You smile to yourself, thankful that at least he cares. “Dutch is always so mad these days,” Tilly whispers as she moves to sit next to you. You spare her a glance before turning to look over your shoulder. Dutch, you assume, is the leader of this band of societal misfits. He points accusingly at Charles, then over to where you sit, and back again, while others interject to add their piece. “C’mon, I’ll help with your hair,” Tilly distracts you, turning your head away from the fray with warm hands. She fishes a rag from the bucket, ringing it out while giving you a small smile. Mary-Beth is assessing your wrists, no doubt thinking up a way to ease their soreness. “It’ll be cold, so don’t squeal now!” Tilly laughs and you bite your tongue when the water drips down the side of your face when she starts dabbing at your scalp. Mary-Beth giggles behind her hand at your scrunched up face and Karen starts to sing, merry with alcohol and new company, and by the time the bickering has ceased you’re looking as clean as you can be with just a rag and a bucket of water. Done with your hair and leaving you to wipe your face and neck, Tilly starts rummaging through her chest, sizing up old dresses so that you can change into fresh clothes. Mary-Beth takes the chance to wrap up your wrists with bandages after wiping them gently with a damp, soft handkerchief, apologizing when you wince or hiss. “There! This one should fit, and the colour looks good too,” she smiles, folding the dress up, as well as some other bits and pieces for you, including a pair of shoes not stained with blood. You hastily wipe your hands dry on your ruined dress and take the offered items. They feel freshly washed and soft despite the course material, nothing like the grubby dress you wear now. “You’re too kind,” you smile nervously, half expecting this to be a fever dream and you’ll wake up any minute tied to that damn tree with crows picking at you. It’s not a dream. Tilly tells you to bed with them for the night once you come back from changing, making room on their bedrolls so you can at least sleep comfortably. You’re surprised that Dutch and the others haven’t come over yet to force you out, but she assures you that it can wait until the morning since everyone needs sleep. In truth, you’re thankful for it — that way they’ll all have clear heads when they decide what to do with you. As you settle down you spot Charles walking to his own bedroll and offer a smile when he looks your way. He smiles back and bids you goodnight with a small tip of his head, and for once since your kidnap you actually feel comfortable enough to sleep among a band of strangers.

#RDR2 #Red Dead Redemption 2 #RDR2 Imagine #RDR2 Imagines #Red Dead Redemption 2 Imagine #Red Dead Redemption 2 Imagines #Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan Imagine #Arthur Morgan Imagines

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the-night-writer1 · 3 years

Text

A little fever

Description: Tang is called to the noodle shop by a worried Pigsy's when one the 8 year olds he basically adopted has a high fever

Pigsy looked at MK and Shan from the kitchen. Shan hadn't touched his noodles at all and looked utterly exhausted. This secretly worried the pig as the eight year old would usually be trying to ask for more by now. The twin boys came in at least three times a week maybe four if he was lucky. He'd feed them a round or two of noodles secretly on the house from a long expired coupon. The boys didn't have much, but bless their hearts they'd pay with the little bit of yen they could get.

Except for today, MK had asked if they could sit in here if they didn't have any yen. Pigsy had raised a brow in confusion until he saw Shan. The kid been sitting outside, he looked as pale as noodles. Clearly didn't feel well but his brother got him to the shop. Pigsy had never thought to ask about their home life before, he figured their parents were just on hard times until now.

"please eat a little bit Shan" MK pleaded softly as he shook his twin by the shoulder," we'll pay him later he said it was ok. You should really eat."

"but I don't feel good" Shan mumbled as he pushed the bowl over to MK. He laid his head on the bar, the counter top was cold. Mk frowned and rubbed his brother's back, Pigsy looked at the two before looking at his phone. Maybe Tang know what to do here? Kid needed help and he didn't know what to do.

"hello?" Tang said as he answered the phone, he was at the library reading up on the legend known as Sun Wukong. You know so he had stories for the twin regulars.

"hey are you busy? Lunch rush is about to start and Shan ain't looking good" Pigsy said, glad he had Tang's number on hand. He heard a book snap closed from the other side of the phone.

"on my way. Is MK with him?" Tang asked as he put the book back. If Shan wasn't looking good, that wasn't a good sign. Last time this happened, Shan disappeared for around two weeks and MK wouldn't tell them what was going on. Tang had followed him to where he lived to see if his brother was okay. Only to find the boys foster mother was a rather cruel woman. She'd been keeping Shan locked in his room until he was over his 'cold' which was actually pneumonia. She wasn't happy when Tang had the boy rushed to the ER. Child services had been on her case ever since. He was pretty sure another strike get the boys removed from her care. He had yet to alert Pigsy about this but that could probably be discussed after lunch rush.

"come on Shan" MK pleaded more as he rubbed his brother's back," just sip the broth. That's not too much is it? You need food to feel better."

Pigsy's frowned hearing The kid's attempts to get his sibling to eat as he filled out orders. Tang couldn't get there fast enough. Pigsy stopped for a moment to feel Shanyao's forehead and the kid was on fire.

"how long has he been like kid?" Pigsy said as he went back to making some bowls.

"three days...all I've got him to eat is toast. But it wasn't even a full piece of toast" MK admitted as he looked at the pig in worry. Pigsy's concern quickly grew with the fact Shanyao had barely eaten anything in days as Mk added softly," I thought if I brought him here to eat noodles he'd feel better. It's worked before."

Damnit he was going to have to close early because of this. Shan needed a doctor or at least better care than their folks were giving him. Pigsy counted the customers he had left, if he closed after them he'd only lose about half a day of profit.

"hey you two how are you doing?" Tang said as he walked in and over to the two boys. He also felt Shanyao's forehead, it worried him as well.

"I don't feel well Mr.Tang" Shanyao said softly as Tang tried to figure out quickly what to do as he checked MK's temperature. Thankfully MK didn't seem sick so they only have one boy to worry about.

"I can't get him to eat his noodles Tang" MK said a bit upset as he crossed his arms. Shanyao laid his head back on the corner top.

"what about you finish your noodles MK and let me take care of Shan okay?" Tang said calmly as he ruffled the boy's messy hair. Mk sadly nodded and turned to his own bowl of noodles. Tang pick up little Shan and began to carry him to a place in the shop he could properly lay down.

"tang over here take him up stairs. The door isn't locked. I'll join ya with MK in about 20 minutes." Pigsy said as he gestured to the door. Tang nodded as he carried the sickly child passed the pig. He rubbed the boy's back and walked upstairs to where Pigsy lived.

"let's lay you down okay Shan? Then I'll get a compress for that fever" Tang said gently to the boy in his arms. Poor thing was weakly clinging to him," it's going to be okay I promise"

"am I in trouble?" Shanyao asked as Tang laid him on the sofa. He was in a daze as Tang rubbed his cheek.

"No no no of course not. Why would you be in trouble for getting sick that's so silly" Tang said he tried to provide Shanyao a little more comfortable by putting a sofa pillow under his head. Tang booped his nose which got a weak chuckle from shanyao. He then went to get a ice pack from Pigsy's fridge. Which didn't take him long to find. He walked back over and placed the icepack on the boy's forehead," this is to help with that fever okay? If you need anything I'm going to be sitting in front of you on the floor okay?"

"okay" Shanyao said softly as he rubbed his eyes. Tang grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. He flipped through the TV channels until he found the sun wukong animated series. He didn't mind watching with Shanyao while he was awake. Poor kid needed the reassurance he wasn't alone.

While the two of them sat there, Tang heard the little boy hum an ancient lullaby in his delirious state. Tang knew the melody but not the words, they'd been lost to time. He was surprised Shan knew the melody. He reached behind himself to take the boy's hand as Shan hummed. The little boy was most likely trying to soothe himself. Tang hoped holding his hand help in that endeavor.

Shan ended up asleep a few minutes later. The ice pack greatly helped with his fever. Pigsy soon came up with MK. Carrying the kid so he wouldn't wake up Shanyao if Shanyao had drifted asleep.

"shh he hummed himself to sleep" Tang whispered as they walked in. Mk covered his mouth as Pigsy nodded. He set MK down and went to the kitchen waving for Tang to follow. Tang careful got up and MK took his brother's hand.

"so what should we do?" Pigsy asked as softly as Tang walked in to the kitchen.

"clearly they can't stay with the fosters they are with now but it mean possibly losing them all together" Tang said as he rubbed his chin.

"can I just take them in? I mean they are basically my boys."

"but you'd be a single parent agencies don't like that especially in Shanyao's case with his health hmmm" Tang said as he put some more thought in to it,"unless"

"unless what?"

"if we posed as a couple we don't have to actually be one mind you. We'd look better to the agency. It's still a long shot but it's best idea I can think of" Tang said as he looked away from the pig slightly red at the thought of being a couple. He waited for Pigsy's response.

"let's do it. It'll get the boys in better care" Pigsy said as he looked away as well. The thought made him blush as well. There was silence between them before MK çame in to the kitchen.

He saw the two blushing adults made a comment that only made things worse and left.

#freenoodleshipping #lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid au #monkie kid #lmk mk #lmk shanyao #lmk tang #lmk pigsy

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tahitianmangoes · 4 years

Text

The Last Shall Be First and the First Shall Be Last

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Part 4: Clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience

Charles knew that Arthur was difficult at the best of times. And these certainly weren’t the best of times.

Charles had gone straight to the doctor in Saint Denis; it was early morning by the time they reached the doctor’s office from the mountainside and he pounded on the door until the doctor answered, bleary eyed and rightfully terrified at the sight of Charles, bandana pulled up over his face, hand resting on his gun holster.

“He needs help.” Charles said, voice a low growl, prepared to use force if necessary, not usually his style but this was different. This was important. It was everything.

The doctor swallowed but dared not argue with Charles. Perhaps against his better judgement, he let Charles inside and Charles lay Arthur in the doctor’s chair. His heart was still in his mouth. The whole ride down from the mountainside, past Annesburg and Van Horn where Charles didn’t stop because he was worried Pinkertons would be waiting for them and through the swamps to Saint Denis, Charles had been preparing himself for the worst.

The doctor patched up the stab wound, wise to not ask questions. Not many men were strong enough to survive being stabbed like that, the puncture almost got his liver. Arthur was a fighter. “You need to keep it clean to stop infection,” he told Charles. “Change the dressing once a day. He also has pneumonia. He needs to be kept warm and needs to rest. And he needs to stop smoking.” “Will he recover?” “He should respond well though I don’t think that cough is going anywhere fast.”

Charles sighed in relief. He thanked the doctor and paid him triple in return for his silence.

Arthur woke up that night in a dirty room above a saloon that Charles had managed to get for them until he found something better. It had a fireplace so Charles could keep Arthur warm there and that was the best he could do. Arthur didn’t remember how he had gotten there. Arthur didn’t remember the doctor, still delirious from pain. He reached down confused and touched where he was now bandaged. He didn’t remember calling out or thrashing in agony, having to be held down by Charles while the doctor stitched him up.

“You’re ok,” Charles said to him gently but Arthur’s eyes were unfocussed, he wheezed as he tried to move, trying to sit in the small bed but Charles laid him down. “Take it easy. You need to rest, ok?” Not even sure if Arthur could hear him.

Hesitantly, Charles touched Arthur’s face. He was hot beneath Charles’s fingertips from fever though he shivered so. He’d never touched Arthur like this, maybe their fingers had brushed when handing something over to one and other, maybe one had laid a hand on the other’s shoulder in a bid of comfort of brotherly love but this felt so tender now.

Arthur sighed and mumbled something that Charles didn’t understand. Charles helped Arthur through his fever, soothing him and applying a cold compress to him. Charles had never allowed himself to get close to someone like this, not in a long time. This feeling of utter dread that he would lose Arthur was unprecedented and he hated it. He had given up everything to come here, to save Arthur and he didn’t understand why. Love? He almost forgot what that felt like.

“Where are we?” Arthur croaked the next time he awoke and Charles made sure he drank water. “We’re safe here.” Charles replied. Arthur groaned and slipped back into a troubled and pained sleep. Charles remained by his side. He stayed sitting there almost motionless, frozen to the spot.

When Charles was young, he had been playing with his father’s hunting knife and had accidentally cut his hand. It wasn’t a deep cut by any means but it had hurt so bad that Charles had cried out. His father scolded him, of course, not only for his carelessness but at the tears that rolled down his face. “You better stop that cryin’, boy.” He’d snapped. “It hurts, pa!” Charles had replied. “I know it do,” his father replied. “But you ain’t no girl. If it hurt, you focus real hard on somethin’ else. Think ‘bout that an’ nothin’ else til the pain go away.”

Charles focussed on the pressed flower he brought back from Beaver Hollow. Charles focussed in the flower until his eyes blurred and he saw double. The dread didn’t leave him, it never did.

When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom. One’s pride will bring him low, but he who is lowly in spirit will obtain honour.

“Shoulda left me to die,” Arthur moaned once the fever was past its worst. The pain was intense and when Charles cleaned and redressed the wound Arthur would hiss and whimper, neck flushed with embarrassment, not used to being vulnerable in front of anyone like this. The wound tore down his right flank, an angry red streak of lightning. Branded by Micah Bell for life. But at least he had escaped with his life; Charles had made sure of it.

Charles wasn’t used to Arthur being vulnerable or weak either. Arthur had always seemed strong, even when he wasn’t. But now he lay in bed, skin paler than white, eyes bloodshot, he could hear his chest rattling from across the room.

Arthur was as stubborn as a mule. Charles wasn’t the best cook but he did what he could with what he had. It took a couple of tries for Arthur to give in to Charles and admit that he was too weak to feed himself. He couldn’t lift his arm, his shoulder stiff from the gunshot wound inflicted by the O’Driscolls a couple of months ago married with the stab wound made movement unbearable. When he sat up carefully as Charles fed him, Charles saw him wince and his hands shake.

“Let me help you,” Charles had said one night as Arthur struggled to lift the spoon to his mouth to eat the stew Charles had made. “I ain’t an invalid, Charles,” Arthur replied snappily. “Let me, please.” Charles insisted, taking the spoon from Arthur. “I don’t want your pity, Charles! If I wanted a nurse, I’d have hired one! I don’t need you fussin’. I can take care of myself.” “It certainly looks that way,” Charles scoffed. “Listen, if I was the one lyin’ here, you’d do the same and you wouldn’t let me be an ass about it.” Arthur scowled. “If it ain’t the pneumonia, it’s your damn pride that’ll kill you.” “I don’t need no help.” “Fine.” Charles said coldly and set the stew down. He got to his feet and left the room.

Arthur watched the door, hoping he’d come back but he didn’t.

When the gang had gone to Guarma, Charles had thought he’d lost Arthur forever. That feeling of dead washed over him, day after day, wave after wave until Arthur showed up at Lakay looking worse than dead. That same dread resurfaced when he told Arthur to go back to back to Beaver Hollow and help the others, despite him wanting Arthur to stay with him, to maybe even go to to Canada with the Waipiti and start anew together. Charles sat by the Lannahechee River until the sun rose and shimmered in its murky waters. He felt that dread now but he’d given them another chance. Not everyone got a second chance.

It was morning when Charles returned. Arthur was sitting up still, as if he had waited for him.

“I… I’m sorry, Charles.” Arthur said quietly. “I jus’… I ain’t used to bein’ like this.” He gestured to the bed. “I know.” Charles replied, sighing and sitting down by Arthur’s bed. The stew had gone cold and uneaten. Charles noticed the spoon on the floor; Arthur must have dropped it. Arthur followed Charles’s gaze and looked away quickly in embarrassment. “You shoulda gone with Rains Fall an’ the others.” He muttered, “I don’t know why you’re wastin’ your time on an old man like me.”

Charles chewed the inside of his lip. His eyes rested on the pressed flower. The dread subsided as he remembered the first time they had been alone together, in Colter. “How’s your hand?” Arthur’s voice had been soft and he had touched him so lightly yet Charles had felt sparks. The world felt different but he couldn’t explain how. He just knew that whenever he saw Arthur ride away from camp he felt a heavy sadness that this would be the last time.

“You’re a cantankerous asshole sometimes.” Charles said abruptly. “You’re brash and you’re loud and insensitive… And I care about you a lot, Arthur Morgan.”

A potent silence descended over the pair of them while Charles stared at the flower, feeling suddenly hot and uncomfortable speaking so frankly.

Arthur swallowed. “I… I didn’t realise…” Charles permitted himself to laugh softly, “I know.” “Charles… I…” Charles looked up at Arthur now, the man he had cared about more than anyone else he had ever met, who he had been prepared to throw everything away for and indeed had done. He knew Arthur wasn’t a man of words and any words he did say weren’t all that eloquent. But what he said was enough.

“I care about you, too.”

#charthur #rdr2 fanfic #writing #rdr2 #arthur morgan #charles smith

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just-mirko · 4 years

Photo

BINARY

BNHA HACKER AU - CHAPTER 4

MASTERLIST

Mirko x F!Reader

Warnings: HAWKS BEING A SUS BITCH 2.0 #peghawks2020

WC: 2k

(A/N: This is unedited! Please message me if you spot any annoying mistakes! I will probably have the edited version up in a day or two!)

“Then with that I leave you, my students, sleep well!”

He left for the doors and closed them behind him, effectively leaving 15 teenage criminals in a room together.

Hah.

After principal Nezu left, the crowd dispersed. Many chose to scout out their dorms instead of interacting. Each person was a loaded gun. Aimed at their enemies or themselves did not matter, we were all afraid for when the first bullet would strike.

That being said, most seemed overall relaxed. Students would try to start conversation and socialize, which was apparent by the mumble of voice within the school’s halls that returned from before Nezu gave his brief speech.

I was turning towards the dorm hallway with my bags in hand. The gentle tap of my shoes along the hardwood floors could be heard in crisp, purposeful taps. Right as I walked through the threshold of the door connecting the dorm corridor and the main hall, I heard footsteps growing louder behind me.

I kept walking forward and kept a close eye at the plaques on each room’s door that signified who was housed where.

The footsteps continued getting closer until in my peripheral vision I could see a lock of white hair swaying.

“You again?” I asked, feigning annoyance. Of course, her presence wasn’t exactly unwanted but it was unneeded.

“Mmmhmm” Mirko hummed while gazing down at me.

The image of her and Hawks pushed itself into the forefront of my mind, leaving residues of anger wherever it bounced in my brain.

“So… you and Hawks?” I looking at the hallway door when I said it. I slowed my walking down to almost a complete stop before turning towards her.

“Are you guys dati-“ I made the mistake of looking into her piercing red eyes and caught a glare, making me stop my sentence.

I held my breath for a second, thinking I angered her in some way, but to my surprise she let out a laugh.

“You got so scared! Look at you! You’re just a bottom little bunny” She relaxed and leaned her arm down to rest on my shoulder. The height difference was so obvious when she was standing this close.

“C’mon (Y/N), lighten up, combat training is going to be a breeze! I bet the view from the floor will be nice.”

Did she just- never mind.

“Oh as if.” I rolled my eyes and started walking again towards my door that came into view. She followed me and watched as struggled with the door.

The doorknob was plain and silver, with a small black pad above it. I was more than confused.

“Were we supposed to get a key or something?”

I continued jamming the doorknob and pressing at the black pad in frustration. It was getting late, and being locked out of my room wasn’t on my list of things I can emotionally handle.

One of Mirko’s hands came to rest at about my elbow from behind me. Delicately moving her hands up towards me wrist, she paused, before gently holding the back my hand, her nails ghosting against my palm.

My heart was racing, none of her arm’s subtle movements went unnoticed. I feared that with how close she was, with her right behind me, and this, whatever this is, she could hear my heartbeat pounding in my chest.

She guided my hand towards the black pad and brought my left pointer finger down on the sensor.

With a small green light and a click, the door swung open. She kept her grasp on my hand for what felt like a moment too long yet still too short before stepping back and turning towards the door across from me room.

“The doors are locked via fingerprint,” She stated matter-of-factly with a smirk.

“Tell me if you have any more troubles (y/n), I’m right next door.” She seemed way too pleased with herself when she walked back into her room, not sparing a glance over towards me, standing in the door frame of my room when her’s closed.

That night I laid awake staring at the ceiling, just as I had done last night. Though the only difference was last night I was contemplating to even go here, now I was contemplating how I would even survive here.

The dorms were nice and decently sized for the whole ‘underground secret society’ thing. A bathroom with all the basics including a deep bathtub, a queen bed, a mini fridge, and coffee machine. What set t apart from average was two things. Color changing lights that were set under the bed and desk, giving everything a vibrant glow (A/N no reason for the lights they just look cool :))

The last special thing in the room was a giant black desk, obviously set up for a giant desktop and even more hardware, but the surface with unscratched, unused, and empty. It sat in the corner of the room alone, unlike the other areas that had lamps, colored lights, or fake plants; the desk had nothing.

I would still have to grow accustomed to the new and pristine room. It smelled clean. Like fresh disinfectant and fake lavender that is just slightly off from the real thing. I could not say I missed the cans of soda on the floor and random sticky notes everywhere.

The old apartment was crammed with miscellaneous objects. All the things I was too attached to throw out, but not too attached to leave all together, I guess.

I rolled over, suddenly very aware of my awakens. I checked my clock. A large sigh eased from my lungs. It was only 11pm. That meant I was not losing too much sleep on my first day. I could only imagine how screwed I would be if those led screen lights were showing 3am or any other blatantly early time.

I guess since I was awake, it would not hurt to get a snack or something. From my recollection, I remember seeing a café like area in the common room, though I was too preoccupied to look at it for too long. They might have a granola bar or some snack I could eat. I was really craving chocolate milk right now.

I was in the slightly delirious sleepy stage of consciousness. The point where I had no filter to what I said, and no self-preservation. In said state, I threw on some slippers, grabbed my phone and grudgingly walked out to the hallway.

“choccy milk, choccy milk!” I whispered to myself in a singsong voice. The walk to the end of the hallway seemed to only last a split second before I was there, at the door to the common room.

“choccy milk, choccy milk!” I reached towards the doorknob, shivering once the chilled metal touched my fingers. Right as I was about to pull the door with my weak and tired muscles, I heard shuffling from the other side of the door.

I opened it slowly, and peering in through the crack in the door. Though dark, and his back was towards me, I could recognize the distinct frame of Hawks. The dirty bastard. Why he be actin lik- my thoughts were interrupted by two sharp clicks. On the floor he sat a suitcase and opened it up. It was the same one that had the red unidentified fluff in it. More fuzz was on it than before, apparent as it stood out among the black fabric casing.

He moved in front of the suit case and blocked my view, but I could watch as he crouched down an opened it up. Suddenly, a flurry of red came spiraling out and circling around hawks. He stood up and the shapes were revealed to be feathers, each one different than the next. The continued to storm around like he was standing in the eye of a hurricane surrounded. Feather by feather they collected by his shoulders, forming broad wings that’s wingspan was around 10 ft.

He ruffled the wings around, spreading them out and even doing a test flap, which sent a gust of air in all directions. While he was… adjusting them? Stretching them?

This had to have been his quirk. And it was an amazing one at that. This was my rival? How was I supposed to beat that?

“Woah” I silently whispered. His wings twitched at the sound, and it appeared all the feathers stood up straight. He quickly turned around, his wings taking on a defensive position and each feather spiking outward like tiny knives. I quickly hid behind the door, hoping he didn’t see me, though he definitely heard me.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I held my breath, knowing now that whatever his quirk was, it enhanced his hearing.

I slightly turned my head to my ear was pressed up against the wall and I could hear anything he did. I cringed at the slight scratch of one of my earrings against wooden door and paused again.

Through the polished wood and all the space between us, I made out his footsteps beginning again as he walked away from the door. The breath I held in my lungs released shakily. My eyes darted across the hallway, which suddenly seemed so much longer. The expanse of parallel lines from the crown molding and the wallpaper and everything made me feel like caving in.

I had barely dodged that encounter, and I know it would not have been good if he found me snooping. I was not my intention, but it did give me a slight advantage. I knew his quirk.

I knew his quirk.

Unlike someone’s fake name or hacker alias, quirks were something you can change. They stuck with you the rest of your life, one of very few constants we could have. And because quirks, especially unique ones like Hawks’, were specific to each person they not only would let me find his real identity quickly, but also gain information on his past, something most people in this life tried to forget.

I had no intention of using this information maliciously, it was more or less self-defense. If he was out for me, its only fair that I get to build a shield. I was just evening the playing fields.

My brain was vacant of all prior need for choccy milk, now, all I wanted was answers, though for now those would have to wait. My smartphone said it was almost midnight, and I already started things at this academy on the wrong foot, I don’t want that to repeat with my teachers.

I guess it was foolish of me to believe I was always one step ahead of everyone. I was untouchable, invisible, I had power. I forgot that people don’t get into this school on daddy’s money or luck, they’re here for a reason.

But at that time I didn’t care, of course I didn’t, I just narrowly avoided my current rival, and walked away unnoticed. Untouchable.

I went to sleep quickly. I woke up early. I slept well. The next day started good. I made coffee and pondered over the empty desk once more. I was ignorant.

#bnha #mirkobnha #bnhafanfic #bnha mirko #bnha x reader #bnha au #hacker au #mirko x reader #rumi usagiyama #rumi usagiyama x reader #xfreader #xf!reader #just-mirko #justmirko #bina #BINARY #peghawks2020

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one-leaf-grimoire · 4 years

Text

“illusion”

Chapter 15

Hi! This chapter has some sad parts but MC finally stands up to a big threat. LMK what you think!

Warnings: none, this chapter is SFW

A03 LINK // SFW LINK

The true nature of my Illusion Magic is in the way that it effects the human brain. My magic can trigger responses within the mind of another, forcing their brain to release the hormones and electric signals necessary to conjure up what I want them to perceive. Images, sounds, feelings... but one spell does this better than any other; the spell I have only cast once before.

Fear Landscape.

This spell targets a single region of the brain, the amygdala. Stress hormones are released in a massive stampede, causing pupil dilation, heart rate increase, and restriction of breathing. All of these things compound upon each other until the body shuts down.

The first time I used it was an accident. We were on a mission in the woods, and were almost done, when a massive wolf appeared out of nowhere. The spell manifested in that moment, probably triggered by my own fear. I don't remember it very well, since I blacked out in a similar fashion to today, into a warm, golden sleep. But according to Alice, the wolf collapsed into a whimpering pile, giving us enough time to escape.

I never really thought about what happened to that wolf. I wonder if it died, just like the dozen or so men that were unlucky enough to be around me today.

But now, lying silently in a hospital bed while the nurses checked up on me for the fifteenth time tonight, I have plenty of time to reflect.

I killed that man... the general. I killed all his men.

The nurses and doctor keep talking among themselves. From what I've gathered so far, the slime mold penetrated my body much farther than they thought at first, and kept proliferating even after the caster was dead. It'll take a while for me to heal completely.

It's been around three days since the attack- at least, I think it has been that long. My mind has been foggy and disoriented, so I can't be quite sure. My only reference for time is the light coming in through the curtains, and the three times per day that a meal is brought to me. I'm barely able to eat, but it could be worse.

After all... someone was hurt much worse than me that day.

The door creaks open once all the nurses are gone, and none other than Captain Hervey and his two vice captains come in. My gaze flickers up to Julius's face first, catching a glimpse of his worried expression. I quickly look to Hervey next. "Captain..."

I start to sit up, but Hervey raises his hand to pause the movement. "Stay still, you're injured enough as it is." He lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes narrowing for a moment. "How are you feeling?"

"As good as I can." I motion vaguely at my right arm, where green mold veins still linger under my skin. "The doctor said maybe two more days before my system gets flushed of this stuff."

"I see." Hervey nods a little. "It'll be good to have you back on your feet..."

I gulp nervously, scared to ask the next question.

"Captain... is Alice-"

"She's still in her coma."

I fall silent.

"The doctor doesn't think she's going to wake up."

... she's... not going to wake up?

"Like... not today? Or-"

"Not ever." The words come out sharply, freezing my heart.

I was told as soon as I was conscious enough to listen. The other Shining General was a powerful ice mage. He managed to trap Julius in Ice before making a break for it. Hervey took off in pursuit, but it was too late; The general ran into Alice's group, and in the fight...

"People don't recover from a frostbitten brain." Hervey muttered, a little callously. I'm too weak to even summon tears, but I feel every part of my soul being shredded apart.

Alice... you have to wake up... you have to.

"But I told you; My ice magic countered his. I killed that Bastard... both of us felled Generals in this battle. That's why I'm here today."

I look back up at Hervey as he walks to the side of my bed, producing what looks like a small plaque. "Captain, what's this for?"

"It's a special commendation from the Wizard King himself," Hervey explained, giving me a strained smile. "You've been promoted to Senior Magic Knight."

"Congratulations," Malota says, giving me a rare smile of her own from the other side of my bed. "You're basically at the top now."

"You've impressed all of us. Well done."

I look at the foot of my bed, where Julius still stands, and he gives me the same smile as the others. He's happy for me, I can tell, but that tenseness is easily explained; today feels like no time to celebrate, while Alice lies unresponsive in another room.

Impressed... congratulations...

The words feel bitter in my mind.

"I... I'm getting this now... because I murdered someone, right?"

My voice is numb, cold and emotionless. My head falls back onto my pillow, and I stare blankly up at the ceiling.

Hervey exchanges a glance with the other two before clearing his throat. "NO! Well, yeah... but don't think of it that way. You defeated an enemy of our Kingdom, and now he will never harm anyone again."

That general... his magic hurt. I remember how Giles writhed in pain, and how my mind snapped as he pushed me past my limit. But, I saw something in his eyes. He had a family... there were things in this world that he loved. But me... I can't love anything. Love was ruined for me, so I ruined it for all of them, too...

"I didn't even mean to do it." Slowly, my eyes flicker close. Maybe if I pretend to be asleep, they'll leave me alone. "I was trying to escape..."

"Our bodies do unexpected things when we think we're about to die."

Julius's voice pulls me out, and my eyes open again. I can't bring myself to move and look at him, but I'm listening... I'm listening.

Julius...

"You did what anyone else would have done... but you deserved this promotion before that, trust me."

Even from where I lay, I can hear the smile on his lips. This time, there is no tension.

How many people have you killed, Julius? You've been to battle far more than I have... and I've heard the stories of your terrifying power. That power scares me, too, but at the same time... I know it protects me.

If I had any less restraint, I would have reached out to him, begged him to take my hand, pleaded for him to stay. I don't care who sees, I don't care who disapproves, I just want him here with me, forever.

But there's just enough restraint within me to keep me still. After that awkward moment, Hervey leads the others out, leaving the plaque on my bedside table.

------------

It's not until later that night that the full gravity of the situation dawns on me. Alice, my closest and oldest friend, was going to die, and I could do nothing about it.

"You're in my group, right? So I'll protect you! No matter what. And you're going to protect me too!"

Alice said those words to Cecelia. She promised that she would live.

Alice... I'm sorry I ever doubted you. You're my friend, nothing less, and I know in my heart that you could never hurt me. As sure as the sun rises, as sure as it sets... you would have never betrayed me.

But why...

I roll over in the dark, my delirious mind breaking down as tears and wet sobs rip from my throat.

Why did I have to realize that after it's too late?!

I clutch a pillow tightly as I cry, holding onto it for dear life. And maybe it's just my imagination... but I feel it hug me back, warm and soft.

-----

When I wake up the next morning, there was no large pillow that I could have been curled up into. The side of the bed next to me is warm; at least, I think it is. But I can't see anyone there, and my fever makes the entire world burn.

Maybe that was just my imagination.

-----

"There you are! Oh, god-"

Two days later, I'm sitting up in bed, feeling good enough to eat. I look up from my soup to see the door open, and two very familiar older people come rushing towards me. I drop my spoon in surprise.

"Mom? Dad?"

Indeed, it's my parents, and a moment later they both tackle me in a hug that's definitely more rough than they should be giving me right now. I let out a hollow gasp as the air is knocked out of my lungs, but I quickly get over it and smile. "Hi... It's good to see you two."

I hug back, burying my face into their shoulders, and am suddenly overwhelmed with... nostalgia. Both of them pull back and start fawning over me, telling me how proud they are of me, and how worried they were before they could visit. It's bittersweet, and it takes everything I have in me to keep from bursting into tears.

All the pain and trouble I've gone through, I did it for them. For the hope that I could free them from the path they think they're trapped on. Marrying a Kira will give us status for life, but now that I'm a Senior Magic Knight, we don't need that status. By myself, I can support them, and then...

"Oh!" My mom's eyes suddenly lit up. "Look who insisted we bring him with us!"

"Huh? Who-"

I look around her shoulder, and my blood runs cold.

"Hey."

Lawrence Kira stands there in the doorway, not even the faint ghost of a smile upon his face.

My heart starts to pound.

He's here... oh god...

"Congrats on your promotion." He walks inside, and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. "Looks like you got pretty hurt, though..." He comes to a stop at the foot of my bed, and I resist the urge to scoot back further. My grip on my mother's hand tightens slightly. "How long are you going to keep this up?"

Uh oh. I open my mouth, not sure what to say. He better not use this time to confront me... he's evil. I look over at my parents, who also start to look worried. In front of them, too! He knows that if he pressures me here, my parents will join them. They're looking forward to the wedding, and they don't want me to get hurt again... I start to panic. SHIT!

Finally, I manage to cobble together a response. Play dumb! "Um... well, they should let me out of bed tomorrow-"

"I'm not talking about that-" Lawrence snaps. "I'm talking about you playing Magic Knight for years and years. Face it, you're not cut out for this." He motions at my fading injuries. "You almost died, I don't want you to face something like that again before our wedding."

"He has a point, Darling," Dad pipes up innocently. "If you died... I don't know how I would go on living."

"I know, but I'm not going to die." I tighten my hold on my mother's hand again. She doesn't say anything, but I see something flicker in her eyes. I look back over at Lawrence, his stone cold grey eyes staring right into my soul. "Lawrence, I killed a General. A Diamond General. And I just got promoted. Do you think I'm weak or something?"

"Not weak..." He crosses his arms, and I see his cool exterior waver for a moment. "But you're not strong enough to avoid this type of injury... you Captain knows it too." His confidence returns, and he points at my plaque. "Have you ever heard of a pity promotion? It's not unusual for a weak magic knight to receive a big promotion right after they sustain a bad injury. It's supposed to convince you to leave, because you've done enough. And that's true for you."

I feel my heart sink. No, I've never heard of pity promotions before, but that adds up.

Am I... am I really that weak?

"I... I- er-"

"FILLER WORDS-" Lawrence snaps, shutting me up immediately. He calms himself after the momentary outburst. "Stop using filler words, remember?"

I nod, my hands shaking.

"Listen... you're not being disgraceful." Lawrence offers me a shallow smile, stepping forward. I feel my heart jolt again, like a deer cornered by a hunter. "But it's time to leave this path and become what you're meant to be..."

I... I can't... I have to... I-

"My wife-"

"No."

The word slips out, and Lawrence freezes. His eyes widen a little, somehow getting colder.

"What did you just say?"

Shit, shit, shit! My heart pounds, but it's too late to go back.

"I- I said no." I take a shuddering breath, ignoring my parents' shocked faces. "I don't want to marry you, Lawrence, and I'm not going to."

The words don't quite register for Lawrence, ricocheting around between his ears. But once they do, it's obvious. His cheeks start to redden, and his wide eyes crumple with rage.

"You... you can't just say no now! We've been engaged since I was ten!"

"Honey, what on earth are you thinking?" Both of my parents look scared. Their whole lives, they placed their entire future on this marriage, not considering any other way to protect us. But now, I've found another way.

Yes... through my own strength, I forged a path! With the help of Alice, I created a fate far different from what Lawrence tried to create for me. I won't let Alice's work go to waste! I found a life I can live with pride... and I found someone that I want to love with all my heart!

"I am a Magic Knight, Lawrence." I sit up, shaking off my parents' hands, and point accusingly at the man who's caused me so much pain over my entire life. "You are the lowest of the low. You forced me to do things I wasn't ready to do. You hurt me, and manipulated me- and I'm not going to just lay down and take it any more!"

My voice raises steadily in volume, and so does my courage. Somehow, a smile starts to grow on my lips, and I clench my fist as I say the words I've always wanted to say.

"For my family, and for my own pride, I reject you, Lawrence Kira-"

Just as I utter his name, I see something in his gaze snap.

Oh- God-

Instantly, mana caves in around him then shoots out at me. I don't have time to finish my sentence. Poisonous, thistly grey vines hit my throat, wrapping around it and blasting me backwards. My parents both scream, and I hit the wall above the bedframe with a resounding CRACK. My mouth opens with a silent scream, the thistles pricking my skin and drawing blood. My back hurts, my legs kick helplessly, and my fingers claw uselessly at the tight chords that choke the life out of me. But at the same time...

That's it Lawrence. Show the world what a monster you really are.

"YOU WENCH!" he basically gargles, still overcome with indignancy and rage. A vein starts to pop out of his temple. "Do you think I'm going to just let you leave? After all the work I put into you?! YOU'RE NOTHING BUT AN UNGRATEFUL SOW WITHOUT ME!"

The thistles tighten, and I start to taste blood too.

More... more... show me more of your hate!

Lawrence looks unhinged as he clenches his fist, controlling his magic. "So... I'm going to teach you a lesson... and then you're coming right back to the castle WITH ME-"

He's cut off suddenly. I crack open an eye to see both of my parents on their feet, hands and Grimoires up. Both are already forming magic in their hands, Eye magic and Memory Magic, and both are targeted at the prince. Lawrence's eyes widen. "What- What do you think you're doing-"

"Let go of her." My dad's voice is deadly soft. Both of them aren't freaking out, but I can hear the urge to tear into Lawrence in his words. "Now."

"I don't care if you're a prince. You don't touch her ever again." My mother's voice holds the same quiet threat.

Lawrence opens and closes his mouth a few times, and I feel his thistles weaken slightly. All I can do is hold my breath and stay still as the edges of my vision start to blur.

yes... both of them stood up for me... Mom, dad, I promise this wasn't a mistake!

"If you defy me... your status will mean nothing. Society will ostracize you," Lawrence threatens. "Are you really going to throw everything I gave you away?"

"Status means nothing, now that we know what you really are like," my dad's voice starts to waver. "Let her go before I show you what I'm really like."

After one more tense moment, the thistles disappear. I let out a deep gasp before collapsing back down onto my bed, a trembling mess. My parents immediately retract their magic and rush to my side. "I-I'm fine-" I wheeze, sitting up with their help.

Lawrence still looks mad, but that calculated coolness in his eyes returns.

"You... you'll regret this."

Without another word, Lawrence turns dramatically and storms off, slamming the door behind him.

The nurses are called back in, fixing up the wounds on my neck. They aren't deep, but Lawrence's Thistle Magic leaves millions of microscopic wounds. It hurts like a bitch, too.

But the whole time, up until my parents leave, only one thought circles through my mind.

I did it...

I'm free.

#illusion #fic #julius novachrono x reader #black clov

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javocjovian · 5 years

Text

Breaking Point, Ch 3 - SPN Kink/ABO Bingo

Title: Breaking Point (chapter 3) Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22868905/chapters/54886156 Square Filled: Sexuality Crisis (Kink Bingo), Virgin Kink (ABO Bingo) Ship: Sabriel Rating: E Warning: referenced Samifer rape and torture Tags: Trauma, Painful First Rut, Hell Angst, Confessions, Denied Feelings, Protective Gabriel, Consent Dilemma, Consensual Sex, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Healing, Acceptance Summary: Sam struggles to deal with both his trauma and his rut, and is forced to make a difficult decision regarding Gabriel. Luckily, Gabriel is the one Archangel who truly cares for Sam. Canon divergent. Set anytime between seasons 11 and 13. Word Count: 3534 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |

Quote:

Gabriel sat down in front of Sam and took his injured hand. "What Lucifer did to you, that wasn't your fault. The way your body reacted wasn't your fault. You chose to say no. You chose not to give in. That's what matters Sam. That's what makes you you. Not your body, not your rut, your choices."

Gabriel returned to the motel room carrying a large brown bag and an enormous pack of water bottles. He closed the door with his shoulder and looked around for Sam. He noticed the light was on behind the bathroom door and his red robe was folded on the bed. Gabriel set everything on the small table and began unpacking the bag.

“Sam?” He called out, “You hungry? I brought some food. You should eat something.”

The bathroom was quiet. Just as Gabriel was starting to worry, the door opened and Sam stepped out. He was in a long, grey, motel robe, looking disheveled and pale, but calm.

“What do you like?” Gabriel asked, lining up the tinfoil covered containers. The motel room already smelled intoxicating. “I got chinese, mexican... I even found a place that has nothing but pasta and salad. I’m also banned from buffets in three states.”

Sam laughed slightly and padded over to the table. “You know, just because the food’s sitting out, doesn’t mean it’s a buffet.”

Gabriel considered this as he gave Sam a paper plate and a water bottle. “They can prove that in court.”

Sam smiled. He opened the water bottle and drank the entire thing in one gulp. Gabriel sat across from him, watching him contently. Sam grabbed another water and took a few more sips.

Finally Sam said, “Gabriel, you didn’t have to do all this."

Gabriel shrugged. “It was no trouble. Now eat.”

So Sam ate. By his calculations he hadn’t eaten anything in months, even though he’d only been kidnapped for about a week. A calendar beside the bed told him that much.

Sam started on the pasta and salad, but ended up taking bits of everything. Gabriel kept him company, chatting to him and making him nearly choke for laughing a few times. Sam was surprised at how much they ate together, although there was still a lot of food left. The bag seemed to be bottomless. Sam suspected it actually might be.

“So, Gabriel,” Sam asked, pausing over his chow mein.

“Mmhm.” Gabriel was leaning back in his chair with a piece of fortune cookie.

“How exactly did you raise me from Hell?”

Gabriel chewed the cookie slowly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… well, when Cas raised me, there were um… complications?”

Gabriel rose a brow.

Sam didn’t want to get into that, so he went on. “I’m just wondering. Is this the same body I had before? Is it the same soul?” It was obvious Sam had been thinking about it for some time.

Gabriel swallowed as he thought about it, too, then he sat forward and said, “Your soul is your soul, Sam. That can’t be altered or rebuilt. That’s the same soul you’ve always had, and will always have. But I suppose your body is different. I’ve never thought about it before. I had to rebuild that, yeah, but it's the same molecules, the same atoms, the same… everything.”

Sam considered this deeply. It was more or less what he figured. It made sense. He still liked Chinese food. He had the same muscle memory, the same pain tolerance. But something was still on his mind. “So, you're saying I'm a virgin again,” he smiled slightly.

Gabriel smiled back and grabbed another cookie. “I won't tell Dean." He winked playfully.

That should have been a good thing. Sam’s molecules were the same but, in a way, he had a body that Lucifer had never touched. So why did that answer bother him?

“Well, that explains one thing,” Sam tried to change the subject. “This rut is as bad as my first, because it is my first. Again.”

Gabriel's smile faded. "Well, I should be able to fix that soon. You're recovering well."

Sam was happy to hear that.

As they finished eating they talked about anything but ruts and demons. When Sam couldn’t eat anymore, he decided to lay down and take a nap. Gabriel took the opportunity to clean up, then go get Sam some clothes. Sam warned him not to get banned from another three states, but Gabriel made no promises.

Gabriel couldn’t find any Plaid Plus outlets, so he settled on Walmart. He even went through the checkout line and paid with real (fake) money. He felt like a saint.

When he returned to the motel he tried to enter the room quietly, but he quickly realized that Sam was no longer in bed. The bathroom light was on again. Gabriel sighed. He had seen how bad human ruts and heats could be—It was partly why he was happy to have such a unique vessel.

He set the bag of clothes on the bed and was about to leave to give Sam some privacy, but then he heard a strange noise from the bathroom—And not the good kind of strange.

“Sam?” Gabriel knocked on the door. He listened and heard muffled sobs.

For the second time that day, the bathroom door was launched open by a surge of grace. Gabriel stepped in and panic rose in his chest.

Sam was sitting on the bathroom floor with his head in his arms, heaving and shaking like he was having a seizure. His robe was undone but he was so tightly curled up that it didn’t matter.

Gabriel knelt down quickly and tried to steady him. He put his hands on Sam’s shoulders, then his face.

“Sam. Can you hear me? Sam?”

Sam lifted his head but wouldn’t look at Gabriel. His eyes were closed tight and his expression was fraught with pain. Tears stained his cheeks.

Gabriel was torn. He could try to make his rut pass, but Sam’s body was already so unstable. He risked destroying it and leaving his soul open to Lucifer.

“Sam! Come on, Sam. Snap out of it. Look at me!”

Sam took a deep breath and smelled something sweet.

“Gabe… Gabriel…”

Gabriel felt helpless. “Just tell me what you need.”

Sam looked up at him. He looked like he’d just come out of Hell. He was trying to form words, but it wasn't working. “I don’t… want… “ He took a shuddering breath.

“I don’t want to be a virgin.”

Gabriel blinked. He assumed Sam was delirious, but then Sam went on.

“Gabriel, please… I don't want it. It’s just something else… that can be taken from me. The monsters, the humans, Lucifer… I don’t want it. I don’t want to be vulnerable, Gabriel.”

Gabriel’s grip on Sam weakened. He went from holding him still to just holding him. “Sam… what are you saying?” When Sam didn't answer, Gabriel's voice became quiet and careful.

"Sam, what you're asking me… I can’t do that. Not after what you’ve been through.” Gabriel’s expression was conflicted. There was something strange in his eye, something completely at odds with his Archangel divinity. It was something human — Weak. “You’re not in your right mind, Sam.”

Sam looked more pained than ever, but he didn't ask again. He nodded and looked away.

Gabriel’s heart sank. He was torn between hatred for his brother and hatred for himself, but Sam seemed to have accepted his answer. Sam rested his head on Gabriel and Gabriel let him. He held Sam to him and covered him up with the robe a little more.

It took a while for Sam to get control over himself enough to speak again. At last he stopped shaking, although he was still sweating and looked fatigued. The smell of cherry blossom and vanilla lotus was like a sanctuary, even as it made his rut claw hungrily at his insides.

Encouraged by Sam’s improvement, Gabriel snapped his fingers and a water bottle flew over to them. Gabriel helped Sam take a few sips. Sam was grateful.

"Gabriel… I'm sorry." Sam mustered.

Gabriel shook his head. "Don't be sorry."

Sam set the water bottle down and let it roll away. Then he pressed his thumb into his injured palm and winced. It didn't seem to help as much anymore. Sam looked resigned.

"Gabe…" he said quietly, "I think you should go."

Gabriel looked at him. "Sam, I told you, my vessel won't…"

"That's not what I..." Sam shook his head. "You don't understand…"

Gabriel's brows came together.

"It's your scent… Gabriel… it's driving me crazy."

If it weren't for the unmistakable note of hunger in Sam's last few words, Gabriel might not have understood. Gabriel looked troubled.

Sam was shaking again. He put his injured palm on the floor and pushed himself away from Gabriel. "I can't… I don't want to hurt you. I owe you… everything." Sam wept. "I'm so sorry."

But Gabriel's expression had become surprisingly fierce. "Sam," he said, "This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault."

When Sam looked away from him dismissively, Gabriel put his hand on his shoulder and turned him right back around.

"Sam. You're in a rut. This is your body reacting. Not your soul. Your soul is what told me to leave. You chose to tell me to leave. That's who you are, Sam. That's what matters. You are more than your body."

Sam looked at Gabriel, even as tears continued to trickle down his face. He wanted to believe him… but he didn't.

Sam closed his eyes, grounding himself in the sensation of pain and warmth from Gabriel's hand. He seemed to calm, but when he opened his eyes, he looked defeated. Gabriel reached up and wiped a tear from his face.

"I…" It took all of Sam's strength to speak again. "I liked your scent before my rut." He confessed.

Sam had barely said it, but he knew Gabriel heard. Gabriel's expression had faltered.

"I've always liked it." Sam looked devastated. "I'm sorry, Gabriel."

Sam's brown, gleaming eyes fell over Gabriel one last time, then he turned away again, as if giving him permission to leave. Sam felt guilt unlike anything he'd felt in a long time. Maybe not since Jess. After everything Gabriel had done for him. Sam felt polluted. Impure. Too wicked to be anything but the mate of a fallen angel. He could feel the handprint on the back of his shoulder more than ever, its warmth adding to Sam's shame. But then he realized that it was Gabriel touching him. Gabriel was pulling him back.

Gabriel wrapped his arms around Sam, gripping him tight, and Sam felt his breath leave him. He sank into Gabriel, whose embrace was so firm that Sam knew Gabriel wasn't going anywhere. Sam nearly broke down.

"I'll stay, if it's what you truly want," Gabriel murmured.

Sam heard the words, but he had to look up to make sure Gabriel had said them. Gabriel's light brown eyes looked gold in the fluorescent light. He looked like an angel. Sam nodded.

Sam wasn't sure who kissed who first. All he knew was that Gabriel was leaning down and Sam was moving up, then that sweet, exotic smell was finally materializing into taste as their lips came together. Sam inhaled it like a drug, and it transformed the painful ache of his rut to warmth and pleasure. It was almost too much. His head spun, or maybe it was his soul.

They kissed for what felt like months, each of them never quite getting enough. The motel light buzzed and the sink dripped. The clock in the bedroom ticked away. But all of those sounds were masked by their lips.

Sam eventually began to move, craving a new angle. Gabriel let Sam lead, but he kept him steady, guiding him into a comfortable position against the bathroom wall. Gabriel sat on Sam's lap as the kiss deepened.

Gabriel's scent was nothing compared to his taste. A low moan escaped Sam as the scent melted onto his tongue. He swallowed that vanilla and cherry blossoms, then the kiss turned deep. They made out against the bathroom tile, Gabriel between Sam and the wall. He was quite happy to be there. When Sam got handsy, Gabriel could tell it was time.

"Sam…" Gabriel mumbled, not quite willing to stop kissing him, "Bed."

Sam didn't argue. He picked Gabriel right up, his rut fuelling his strength. Gabriel could safely say he'd never been lifted like that by a human, and it did all sorts of naughty things to his brain.

It was a good thing the motel room was small. Sam and Gabriel toppled over onto the bed in seconds. Gabriel's robe and Sam's new clothes fell to the floor. Gabriel snapped the curtains closed, never taking his lips off of Sam.

With Sam's help, Gabriel started getting undressed. Sam was just in an open robe, a sight Gabriel vowed to never forget. Sam shouldered the robe off and helped Gabriel with his pants.

Sam's body was glistening with sweat, and Gabriel confirmed immediately he'd gotten him the proper sized rut toy. He could see the shadow of a knot beginning to form.

Gabriel was used to having sex with demi gods, but this proved to be much, much sexier. Still, Gabriel focused on Sam and took it slow.

Sam was the kind of Alpha to go hard and fast in a rut, but Gabriel's constant stream of kisses and gentle touches kept him in the moment. Gabriel coaxed Sam beneath him and, even as Sam's rut roared in him like a beast, he submitted to Gabriel.

"Sam, you still with me?" Gabriel mumbled between kisses.

Sam nodded, despite his eyes darkening with lust. Sam watched hungrily as Gabriel sat up. Gabriel rarely bottomed, but he never turned down the opportunity. Tonight it seemed especially appropriate. Gabriel barely had to grip Sam's virgin cock to angle it into himself. It was ready for him. So he just lined up and sank down.

Sam tried to calm his breathing, but failed a quarter of the way in. He moaned shamelessly, raking his hands up Gabriel's thighs. He was shaking with the effort not to buck, and it was making him tense.

"Relax, Sam," Gabriel breathed. Then a thought occurred to him and Gabriel caused his body to start producing slick. It dripped down Gabriel's thighs and coated Sam's cock as he slid down.

Sam shook with pleasure and held onto Gabriel's hips. The smell was intoxicating.

"Gabe… are you… is that slick?"

"Yeah. How's it feel?"

Sam looked windswept. "Amazing."

Gabriel grinned. The cocky look was so like Gabriel that Sam smiled. It was such a genuine smile that any doubts Gabriel had about taking his virginity vanished. He sank all the way down, sitting flush on Sam's lap and stealing the smile right off of his face. Sam's lips parted and his hips rose, burying himself in Gabriel, who signed in pleasure at the depth.

They both caught their breath as their bodies got used to one another, but soon Sam's body was shaking with the effort of staying still. So Gabriel reared up and sank back down. Sam gasped and thrust up, unable to control it. Then Gabriel did it again, and again.

Within seconds Gabriel was riding Sam's cock and Sam was rocking his hips in absolute relief.

"Gabe… Gabriel…" He groaned, his expression screwed up.

His hands found Gabriel's and Gabriel pressed them onto the bed, then leaned over and kissed him. The angle allowed them to fuck each other, and soon they were panting and groaning, half making love, half fucking in the dark motel room.

Whenever Sam started losing himself, his rut taking over and making him unresponsive, Gabriel would sit up again and slow things down. After only a few minutes Gabriel's body was producing slick freely and Sam's knot was beginning to swell.

"Gabe…" Sam warned. "Gabe… gonna knot…"

Gabriel could feel it. He sat up, still holding Sam's hands, and fucked him into the bed. Sam moaned and came, his knot swollen inside Gabriel's body. He nearly lifted Gabriel off the bed.

Gabriel froze, unable to move, but the sensation was so powerful in his slick coated body that he didn't want to go anywhere. He let himself come as Sam filled him up, moaning in encouragement. He'd never experienced such pleasure as an Omega.

Soon Sam's hips stopped and he lay there, sweating and heaving with his eyes closed, his fingers intertwined with Gabriel's.

"Gabriel… oh…oh shit..." Sam breathed, his voice weak with satisfaction.

Gabriel grinned at him. He pushed hair out of Sam's face and kissed him. Sam rubbed his freed hand up Gabriel's arm.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

"Mm...that's an understatement."

Sam smiled sheepishly. It was the second genuine smile Gabriel had seen since that day.

"I uh… You might be stuck there for a while."

"Oh, no…"

Sam chuckled, rumbling beneath Gabriel. "Sorry. It's just… first time and all."

Gabriel couldn't help but notice the difference between how Sam looked when he talked about his virginity before and how he looked now. Gabriel smiled at him. "You can make it up to me with dinner and a movie."

Sam hummed in amusement. He wrapped his arms around Gabriel and kissed him. It was a slow, languid kiss. They didn't pull away until Sam's knot deflated.

Sam could have fallen asleep like that. He must have looked tired, because once Gabriel got up he pulled Sam into his arms and said, "Get some sleep. I'll stay with you."

Sam didn't know how to express his gratitude. After he got back from Hell the first time, he barely slept for years, but this time, he fell asleep in seconds.

Gabriel let Sam sleep for hours. Every so often he'd start dreaming (Gabriel could tell they weren't good dreams) and he'd wake him just enough so he could fall back asleep. A few times he had to wake Sam completely. Gabriel knew those dreams weren't caused by his rut. Anger doused Gabriel's post coital bliss like cold water, but he just let it fuel his determination to protect Sam.

It was dawn when Sam woke properly. He lay in Gabriel's arms for a while, trying to replace the after image of his dreams with the sight of Gabriel. Part of him still couldn't believe it was real.

Gabriel must have sensed it, because he took Sam's hand and massaged it. "Good morning."

Sam smiled weakly. Pale sunlight was filtering in through the blinds. "Morning."

Sam seemed to have recovered well enough, so finally Gabriel asked. "Want me to heal you again? Take care of the rest of your rut?"

Sam nodded appreciatively. "Yes, please."

Gabriel brought his fingers to Sam's forehead. "Close your eyes." A light brighter than the sun shone between them, and Sam felt his body cool considerably. The rumblings of discomfort and need faded away. When he was finished, Sam looked up at him in relief.

"Thanks, Gabriel."

While Sam showered and changed, Gabriel cleaned up the room. Dean would appreciate the leftover food, even if there were no burgers or beer. But after his shower, Sam was being strangely quiet. He towelled off his hair in the mirror, wearing his new plaid jacket and denim jeans, and looking lost in thought.

Gabriel stood in the doorway behind him. "Sam? You okay?"

Sam turned abruptly. "Yeah. Of course."

Gabriel rose a brow.

Sam's false smile faded.

"Is it Dean?"

"No… Dean, he… This isn't our first Hell rescue. He won't ask too many questions." Sam was grateful for that. But still… He examined his healing hand. Now that the distraction of his rut was gone, he could feel the ache deep inside him, not in his body, but in his soul. "I just thought this was over. I mean, I knew this pain would never go away, but… to start over again?" Sam looked troubled.

"Sam, you're not starting over again. You're ten times as prepared as you were last time. You know all the tricks," Gabriel said.

Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"And you have your brother, and an Archangel, on your side."

Sam looked at him. "Yeah?"

"Oh yeah," Gabriel grinned.

Sam smiled, but when he spoke his voice was anything but lighthearted. "You'd really stick around for a human with a soul as damaged as mine?"

"Sam,” Gabriel said, “Your soul is the only one I'd stick around for."

Sam's smile warmed.

Gabriel winked at him.

In the distance they heard the roar of a familiar engine. Sam felt an obligation to say something before Dean arrived—Or maybe to kiss Gabriel—But Gabriel was smiling contently at him, and Sam realized that Gabriel had been telling the truth. He really was willing to stick around, even if he had to wait for someone as damaged as Sam to heal.

The Impala roared to a stop outside the motel room and a car door slammed.

"Well, you ready?" Gabriel asked.

Sam took a deep breath and smiled. "Oh yeah."

#spnkinkbingo #spn kink bingo 2020 #spnabobingo #supernatural #a/b/o dynamics #sabriel #fanfiction #fanfic #My writing #sarasaurusrex #archive of our own #alpha sam winchester

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flydotnet · 6 years

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Surprise Meeting with Fate (and Your Eyes) - Chapter 2: Building Trust

Previous chapter/Original post

Fandom: Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony (Non-Despair AU) Pairs: Kaede/Shuichi, Maki/Kaito, Gonta/Kirumi, Tenko/Himiko

Chapter summary: Shuichi's more tired than he thought, his roommate doesn't want him to work even more and Kaede is still in the picture, because as Kaito says: he can't hear him over the sound of his blooming romance. Bromance and a friend outing to the doctor's are part of Shuichi's second day as a soulmate who found his match.

Chapter notes: HELLO YES I DIDNT PLAN ON MAKING THIS A FULL-ON FIC BUT HERE WE GO ANYWAY Seriously, I just couldn't let such an idea go to waste! People seem to have appreciated this one a lot, and I liked it a lot too, so I jumped the shark and went for it. I hope you'll bear with me as I attempt to introduce more characters and pairings than I did in SymCac.

AO3 version available here. (which I strongly advise for since Tumblr’s formatting is garbage)

To be honest, when he woke up that morning, Shuichi had forgotten about two things: the name of his soulmate written on his wrist, and that he had made a fool of himself in front of his roommate.

The weirdest for Shuichi was to think he didn’t need to be weary of who his soulmate was anymore. There was no more avoiding other people’s gaze to avoid getting a name written in golden letters on his wrist. All there was anymore, was to find how to deal with it in the company of his soulmate herself, the ever-so-pretty Kaede Akamatsu.

And what a soulmate she was. They were different in every single aspect he could have thought of: she was an extravert, beautiful, charming, popular and brave; he was an introvert, shy, plain-looking, lonely and cowardly. She was shining, he was buried in his own shadows. There was no way they were any compatible, yet there they were, somehow soulmates.

Of course, Kaito had gotten hold of the information easily. It started with how Shuichi had replied to a text message from the astronaut trainee: “I’m with a client, but it looks more like a date than anything else”. It had picked Kaito’s curiosity: Shuichi Saihara, speaking about a date? It meant he was both outside and with someone else his best friend didn’t know about. It was interesting, fascinating, exciting to uncover.

One thing was for sure: Kaito hadn’t missed the most embarrassing part of the day. Kaede had accompanied Shuichi to his place on the way back from the “date”, mostly because his fever had risen again from the surprise overexertion he had wanted to avoid. At first, he had refused, but she had kept insisting and he had eventually given in to her pleas and to how bad he felt after a while of walking around and make small talk with a girl way out of his league.

It would had been humiliating enough, would had Kaito not stepped on Kaede taking care of his roommate in bed. Sure, Kaito had seen Shuichi in many embarrassing situations, from delirious and calling for his uncle to ugly tears of frustration at grades, but there had never been such a thing between the two of them.

And that was more than enough for Shuichi to barely be able to look at his own roommate as they were eating breakfast.

“Hey, bro…” Kaito broke the ice starting to freeze the table as he dipped his slice of bread in his hot chocolate.

“What…? You’re going to tease me again…?”

“No, I know yesterday bothered you and all, so… I wanted to ask you if you were okay.”

Shuichi rose his eyes, puzzled.

“Just that? Then… I guess I’m fine, I’m just… weirded out by everything, lately…”

Kaito put a hand under his friend’s bangs, inspecting his temperature closely by then putting his on his own forehead.

“That girl was right, you’re still warm, Shuichi. You overworked yourself again on a case? I thought we had made a point, yesterday.”

“Nah, I think it’s just a leftover of me being sick yesterday… You don’t need to skip classes for me over it, Kaito…”

“It’s like you can read minds, bro! Seriously, you should take the day off, you look like crap man.”

“Thank you for the compliment…”

Shuichi’s nose dived right into his coffee before he knew it. He heard his roommate sigh.

“C’mon, let’s bring you back to bed, this ain’t gonna work…”

And once again, before he was even conscious of it, he was getting dragged to his room and to his bed. By chance, he had forgotten to get dressed, so he was still in his pyjamas anyway.

“You’re stubborn as hell, man…” Kaito said in another sigh. “If only you knew how to stay in bed as well as you knew your English literature, everything’d be better for everyone involved.”

“You have class soon, Kaito, you should be going instead of staying here…”

“Yeah, I know that,” he got his phone out, “that’s why I’m calling you someone!”

His face was probably already pale from the natural tint of barely going outside, but Shuichi felt himself get even paler.

“W-what someone…? Maki?”

Which implied he was going to get a very bad time for being crap at taking care of himself.

“Kirumi?”

Which implied he was going to be bombarded with questions about his self-care or be met with an awkward silence.

“Gonta?”

Which implied he was going to get smothered in strong hugs and weird natural remedies nobody else but Himiko, Kirumi or him would trust in.

“My uncle?”

Which implied he was going to be forced to take an actual day off and get a paternal scolding with it.

Kaito scoffed in amusement.

“Naaah,” he replied as he picked a pink sticky note from the bedside table, “I’m calling that girl from yesterday. She seemed adamant to know you more!”

Oh no. That implied even worse things for him.

“Don’t do that!! Kaede has so much more stuff to worry about than me…!”

He coughed, to which Kaito handed him a bunch of pills and a glass of water.

“Take your medicine before you talk about your well-being, bro. I hate reversing the roles, y’know.”

Shuichi took the medicine and glass with a slight smile, a soft “thank you” and took the pills. He had, also, forgotten about his asthma. Moments later, he saw his best friend type down the number on the sticky note Kaede had left there the day before “so he wouldn’t forget to call her back and give her his number” right before he had fallen asleep.

“Hello? It’s Shuichi’s best friend, Kaito Momota! We’ve seen each other yesterday after you brought my bro home.”

He nodded before smiling wildly.

“Yeah, I’m doing great! But I have to leave for my training soon, could you take care of Shuichi for me today? He’s still tired and sick, and I’m scared he’s going to go to work-and-or-class anyway if I leave him alone. I can repay you the favour another day!”

He showed an even wider grin after a minute or so.

“You really can?! Thank you so much!! I’ll slip the flat’s door key under the rug, okay? If you really can’t, ring the bell, Shuichi’ll come to open to you. Thanks again, Kaede! You’re saving us big trouble there!”

Kaito hung up and looked at his flatmate.

“Heard that? Your girlfriend’s gonna come here to take care of you for the day!”

“Kaito… Kaede isn’t my girlfriend, and I’ve already told you, she’s a busy pianist who has other stuff to do than taking care of than me…”

“Sorry, bro, can’t hear you over the sound of your blooming romance! I’ll be going now, don’t wanna be late to my training y’know! Plus my cab’s already here, and I can’t let my Maki Roll wait for me! See ya tonight, take care!”

With that, Shuichi heard the entrance door to the flat slam behind his best friend, and that was it. How was he supposed to go to work if Kaede was to come here? He hadn’t even warned his uncle’s office about taking a day off, same for his professors! It wasn’t too late, he figured, as he just laid back in bed again.

He took his own phone, turned it on and dialled the necessary numbers. What a chore, especially since he hated phoning people, but also lacked the motivation to write them emails they wouldn’t read in time anyway.

“Hello? Ah, Uncle Shinichi, it’s… It’s Shuichi…” He gulped. “How do you know I’m sick…? I haven’t gone to the doctor yet…! Huh, my voice? I guess it’s weak today… I’m sorry, I don’t think I can come to work with my roommate keeping an eye on me… It’s fine with you? Thanks, Uncle… I’ll do… Have a nice day…”

“Hello, sir? It’s Shuichi Saihara, in second year in the Literature and Human Sciences course… It’s to inform you I won’t be here today… I know, I have a presentation due on tomorrow, I’ll be there… Oh, don’t worry sir, I’m just sick, I should be fine by tomorrow… No, I’ve not gone to a doctor yet… I’ll do, sir… Have a good day, sir…”

A sigh of relief exited his lips. It seemed like it was okay for him to be missing for a day, even if it bothered him to no end. What was he supposed to do on a Tuesday when he had nothing to do but look at the ceiling? Maybe he should get dressed and go to a doctor, that could be useful…

As he got dressed and made his way to the living room-kitchen hybrid he shared with Kaito to recover some stuff to go, he came right by a now familiar face and her bright, charming, spell-casting smile. Goddammit. His legs felt like jelly, probably from his lingering fever.

He couldn’t help but look at what she was wearing. A dusky pink coat, wool leggings and heeled boots with laces tied in a knot at their top. She looked, as always when it came to her it seemed, lovely. Her hair was tied in a ponytail, hidden behind her back, buried under a beanie with a pompom on top of it. Why was he even studying her outfit when he couldn’t have cared less about Kaito’s extravagant shirts, stellar jackets and galaxy-printed boxers?

Kaede let out a small “oh” of surprise when she turned back from locking the door, before beaming him another magical smile.

“Hello, Shuichi! How are you?”

“Ah, huh, hello Kaede… I’m… fine, I guess…”

“Your roommate called me, telling me you were still sick… You were planning to go somewhere?”

“To the doctor, actually. I’ll need a medical certificate if I want to justify skipping class today…”

She took off her gloves, walked up to him and put her own palm on his forehead, just as he put on his coat.

“He was right, you’re still warm. Let’s get you to a doctor, okay? My car’s parked in front of the building. It won’t take us more than a few minutes to get to one.”

He just nodded, because he was getting a bit dizzy. Once he had made sure to get all the stuff he needed, he went downstairs with her, waving a tiny hello to Rantaro who was making his way to college.

Once in her car, Shuichi noticed a few things, and that despite his daze. The outside wasn’t pink: in fact, it was white, so it was discreet, fortunately so. The interior was black, slim, decorated with clef-shaped and note-alike items.

“Welcome to my little car!” Kaede greeted him to the passenger seat. “Do you mind if I put on some music? I like to have some background noise while I drive, and I won’t force you to chat with me if you’re sick.”

“I don’t mind…”

She turned on the car and started driving off.

They were, barely moments after that, at the nearest doctor’s office. The waiting room wasn’t too busy, but there were still a few people before them, including a grandmother who accompanied her ill, crying grandson and an expecting couple, probably there for a small check-up or, rather, for the ill-looking husband who still had something in the corner of his mouth.

There was something weird with doctor offices, and it was how you felt sicker when you waited for them. At first, Shuichi thought it would be a good occasion to finish reading the novel he had started and which he had forgotten in his overcoat’s pocket. However, he quickly realized he felt drowsy and had trouble focusing on anything, so he slipped the book in his pocket again and made a mental note to read it later.

“Shuichi?”

Kaede softly called for him, looking at him with soft eyes, when he noticed he was lulling on her shoulder. He jumped back into a proper position, embarrassed.

“S-sorry for that…! I didn’t realize I was starting to fall sleep…”

“It’s fine. You look tired, so I don’t mind you sleeping on my shoulder if it’s more comfortable than the seat. It’s our turn soon, that’s why I was calling for you.”

“Oh, okay… Thanks for telling me, I’ll try staying awake until we’re called…”

Minutes later, they were both called into the doctor’s actual office. That was when his senses started to get a bit foggy from the fatigue. He didn’t even wonder about what use what he was getting asked to do could possibly serve towards a diagnosis of his condition.

The doctor excused himself for separating Shuichi from Kaede, bringing him in the nearby examination room. It did a perfect job at looking as such: white walls, tools, smell of disinfectant products, examination table. He sat down on the latter upon being prompted to do so.

“Mr Saihara, please open take off your shirt so I can start examining you.”

It’s with a bit of shyness and a will not to unveil too much that he started unbuttoning his shirt, eventually taking it off. He hoped Kaede wasn’t peeking: he was slender at best and scrawny at worst. Wait, why would he think she was even attracted to him to begin with? He was nothing but a stick. She couldn’t be a pervert either, so there was no point in being afraid of that. Huh. That sure was weird.

Tongue checking, ear checking, heartbeats, breathing cycles, coughing, eye checking, temperature… It got weirder when the doctor requested to take his measurements after allowing him to put on his shirt again: weight, height, basic information from his medical files. He still shrugged it off: maybe it was needed for medicine doses.

Once all of this was done, the doctor invited him to go back to the main room, where Kaede had patiently waited for him. He wanted to tell her she shouldn’t have waited for him, that it wasn’t much, but he was still happy to see she was still there, for some reason. Moreover, she still had a slight, soft smile to give him that never failed to warm him up, even if they had known each other for two days.

He’d have to investigate why she had such a strong impact on him. The last time it had happened, he had just met Kaito, in high school, when the latter invited himself to his table at lunch because “you shouldn’t be eating alone, man, even if I don’t know you”.

Was that what it meant to have a soulmate?

“Mr Saihara,” the doctor called him back to reality, “I need to ask you a few questions before I can make a sure diagnosis. Would you mind answering them?”

“Not at all…”

He felt a bit dizzy again but prevented his head from falling onto Kaede’s shoulder right next to it.

“Have you slept much, lately?”

“Huh… Not really…? I’ve been busy with work and college, so I probably neglected my sleep…”

“Have you kept an eye on your alimentation?”

“Made sure to eat at least breakfast, lunch and dinner… Classic student stuff, noodles, some junk food here and there, but I try to limit that, so I usually eat rice for dinner anyway…”

Kaede’s eyes were a bit stern on him.

“Shuichi…” she whispered, seemingly upset.

The doctor wrote down some of the answers he gave out, until he went through them all again.

“Mr Saihara,” he told them both, “you have a rather bad case of overwork and general fatigue due to an important workload and a lack of sleep. You mostly need some rest and to take care of your life habits and it should be fine in a few days. I will also give you some antipyretics, since according to your medical information you have fevers easily.”

Kaede’s eyes locked onto his again, this time displaying pity. Oh, joy.

“Here is the list of medicine you will need,” the doctor continued as he gave Kaede a freshly printed out piece of paper. “Any question?”

“Yeah, huh… How long am I off work…? I doubt rest includes working or attending class…”

“You are right, Mr Saihara. I have given you a week off from both work and class, since I have heard from Ms Akamatsu that you were still a student.”

“Oh, great… Just great…” Shuichi whispered under his breath.

Once they were out of the doctor’s office, the bill paid, Kaede offered to go back to the car and go to the pharmacy to get the medicine from the list. Once in her car again, the silence from the way there got broken by anything but her radio playing classical music.

“Shuichi,” she asked him, glancing at him with worry on her face, “is everything all right? You look sad.”

“What makes you think I’m sad…?”

“I wouldn’t know how to describe it, but… You look like you’re really bothered by something. Is it just me?”

“No, you’re right, I’m really bothered by something… I called in for the day, but I promised my History prof I’d be there for my presentation tomorrow, but doctor’s order says I’m off for an entire week… I don’t want to cancel it…”

“Aw, you’re worried for your oral… I’m sure your prof will understand, Shuichi. You’re a good student. At least that’s what Kaito told me yesterday when he told me a bit about you.”

“Oh, so you talked with Kaito about me…”

“Yeah! He told me you were a very good guy, who loved literature and who put others before himself! You know, as scary as this soulmate thing is, I’m really glad and relieved it’s with you I get to share it… I don’t know why, but I just feel better when I’m around you.”

“Same here… It’s just better when you’re around, for some reason…”

She accelerated as soon as she noticed he was curling on himself for warmth. She also insisted on getting his medicine for him, but he still went with her because he really didn’t want her to pay for him when they were nothing more than freshly friends. Quickly after, they were back to his flat, him in the sofa, her by his side, carefully reading the instructions the doctor had given out and inspecting the medicine.

“Sheesh, Shuichi, you need to take care of yourself!” She scolded him as she prepared him a glass of water for the pills. “You have to eat correctly and sleep long enough! I’m sure Kaito tells you that a lot, but that proves you really need to do so instead of just saying you’ll do that later! Your health is very important!”

“I’ll… I’ll try paying it more attention… I’ve been busy lately…”

Yet, even when she was angry at him, Kaede shined him a bright and comforting smile.

“You’re such a hard worker, Shuichi… I’ve seen your room when I went to fetch you a sheet,” sheet she then proceeded to put on his legs, “and it’s a mess of books and case files. I may call a friend over so she can help us fix this, but for now, you’re ordered to rest!”

She patted his shoulder.

“I’ll make you a small something, please wait for me here. If you need anything, just call me!”

When Kaede came back, barely minutes later, she had a small cup of steaming milk in her hands.

“Here you go! It’s still a bit hot, but my mom always made honey milk for my sis and me when we were sick or tired. I thought it could be good to give you a cup too!”

“That’s very kind of you, Kaede… Thank you very much…”

Shuichi folded his legs back to his torso as he blew some of the steam off the cup, before taking a sip of it.

He could get used to this soulmate thing, if it meant feeling good when he’d usually feel miserable.

Fear not, the other ships will arrive later. (especially Makaito, believe me)

#drv3 #saimatsu #saiede #shuichi saihara #kaede akamatsu #kaito momota #my writing #fanfiction #soulmate

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dear-wormwoods · 7 years

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Reasons why Eddie Kaspbrak is a Gryffindor:

As a child...

- He stands up for justice even if it gets him punched in the nose, even if he’s terrified.

- He went BACK to the house on Neibolt street after being sexually harassed by a hobo with syphilis, just out of morbid curiosity, even though it was dangerous and terrifying.

- He took responsibility for the baby dam along with Bill and Ben to Officer Nell, even when it meant possibly getting in trouble and his mom finding out, because it was the truth and the right thing to do.

- Even before outwardly defying his mother, he would find little ways to break the rules and assert his independence - eating things he wasn’t supposed to, playing where it was dangerous. Even little things like that show bravery when you’re an abused child.

- He thinks, repeatedly, that he would die for Bill if it ever came down to it. Eddie consistently puts his friends before himself and defends them despite being smaller and physically weaker.

- He participated in the rockfight without question, despite never having met Mike before. Even when he got a rock to the face, he got right back up, more determined than ever, and kept fighting.

- He was given the option of not participating in the smoke hole due to his asthma, and refused to take the out. Then he stayed down there as long as he possibly could, lasting longer than Stan or Ben.

- Maybe he doesn’t stand and fight Henry Bowers and his gang when he’s by himself, but he freaking LAUGHS in Henry Bowers’ face as he’s getting creamed. He laughs!

- Even after Henry breaks his arm, he KEEPS MAKING IT WORSE because of the sheer cosmic injustice of the situation, and because Eddie Kaspbrak is no coward, and has no sense of self preservation. He calls Henry crazy even as his arm is in searing pain! Henry was scared of him, because of his fearlessness.

- He gets clarity and acceptance through the pain - he realizes that pain isn’t so bad, he realizes that he IS brave and WILL survive, and most importantly he finally accepts what Mr. Keene told him about his mother, and takes it in stride.

- When he finally stands up to his mother, he does it not for his own self gain or because he wants to hurt her, he does it for his friends, and to get justice for himself. She’s scared of him NOT because he’s some cunning, manipulative person - but because this was Maturin intervening, because Sonia’s grip on Eddie was possibly too strong, and there Needed to be Seven.

- AGAIN - THIS IS NOT HIM BEING MANIPULATIVE AND DECEITFUL FOR PERSONAL GAIN - THIS IS HIM BEING BRAVE!! THIS IS THE PEAK OF EDDIE’S BRAVERY! ADULTS ARE THE REAL MONSTERS, SONIA IS THE REAL MONSTER! EDDIE STANDS UP FOR HIMSELF AND HIS FRIENDS OUT OF BRAVERY! He speaks openly and honestly with her for the first time, with full clarity, and THAT is BRAVERY.

- He did not go into the conversation intending to win a power struggle or gain anything from her. He went into it to fix an injustice done to himself and his friends, who he would gladly die for. He wanted her to admit that SHE is the manipulative one. He wanted her to admit that SHE is the passive aggressive one. He didn’t resort to any of her tactics. He spoke plainly, openly, and bravely.

- He doesn’t even really blackmail her. He plainly states that MAYBE Mr. Keene was joking with him, and that he will keep an eye out for his friends and keep on using the inhaler. She gets the idea without a fuss, because he’s telling her exactly what she wants to hear - that he’ll stay sick, for her.

- Right before they go into Neibolt again, Bill gives Eddie the option to opt out, and - again - Eddie refuses. Someone who puts themselves first would not have done that. But Eddie Kaspbrak is selfless to the point of being foolhardy.

Bill nodded, then looked sharply at Eddie. “Cuh-Can you d-d-do this, EhEh-Eddie?”

Eddie nodded. “Sure I can. I was alone last time. This time I’m with my friends. Right?” He looked at them and grinned a little. His expression was shy, fragile, and quite beautiful.

- Richie gives him the option of not even going with them to fight IT, because of his arm, and again he refuses, again thinking to himself that he would readily die for Bill if he needed to. Selfless. Brave. Foolish.

- Eddie, despite being terrified of filth and disease, and despite seeing Bill as the brave leader of the group, is the one who fearlessly and confidently navigates the entire sewer system beneath Derry, going only off of instinct, and without knowing what he could end up running into.

- THE EYE. THE FUCKING CRAWLING EYE!!! The scene speaks for its damn self. Eddie is the only one not being grabbed and pulled in by the tentacles, and he is given, by his own mind, the option to leave AGAIN - and he DOESN’T TAKE IT. He knows full well he can navigate his way out - if he was a selfish boy, if he was a real coward, he would have taken the chance. But no. Eddie Kaspbrak is the bravest Loser, hands down, no questions asked.

Eddie’s paralysis broke wide open—It was trying to take Big Bill!

“No!” Eddie bellowed—it was a full-blown roar. One might never have guessed such a Norse-warrior sound could issue from such a thin chest, Eddie Kaspbrak’s chest, Eddie Kaspbrak’s lungs, which were of course afflicted with the most terrible case of asthma in Derry. He bolted forward, jumping over questing tentacles without seeing them, his broken arm thumping his own chest as it swung back and forth in its soggy cast. He fumbled in his pocket and brought out his aspirator.

(acid that’s what it tastes like acid acid battery acid)

He collided with Bill Denbrough’s back and slammed him aside. There was a watery ripping sound, followed by a low eager mewling that Eddie did not so much hear with his ears as feel with his mind. He raised the aspirator

(acid it’s acid if I want it to be so eat it eat it eat)

“BATTERY ACID, FUCKNUTS!” Eddie screamed, and triggered off a blast. At the same time he kicked at the Eye. His foot went deep into the jelly of Its cornea. There was a gush of hot fluid over his leg. He pulled his foot back, only dimly aware that he had lost his shoe.

“FUCK OFF! CRAM IT, SAM! GO AWAY, JOSE! GET LOST! FUCK OFF!”

- In this scene, Eddie doesn’t just harm IT with pure, selfless belief, and fucking kick it so hard he broke into the eye’s jelly. Eddie also brings all the Losers out of their respective trances, and encourages them to start fighting back. Eddie is the reason Bill fights the Eye. Eddie is the reason Ben tries harder to get Bev out of its grasp. Eddie is the reason Richie overcomes his WORST fear and joins the fight as well. Not only is Eddie Kaspbrak the navigator, and the bravest Loser, he is also he heart of the group. And IT knows this, which is why it targets Eddie FIRST in its next manifestation.

“Fight It!” Eddie raved at the others. “It’s just a fucking Eye! Fight It! You hear me? Fight It, Bill! Kick the shit out of the sucker! Jesus Christ you fucking pussies I’m doing the Mashed Potatoes all over It AND I GOT A BROKEN ARM!” .....

“Just an Eye! Just a fucking Eye!” Eddie was screaming deliriously. He triggered his aspirator again and felt It draw back. The tentacles which had settled on him now dropped away. “Richie! Richie! Get it! It’s just an Eye!”

- IT also has it out for Eddie when it manifests as Georgie. IT knows that Georgie will be Bill’s weakness - it also knows that Eddie is strong, stronger than Bill, and is the only one Bill might listen to. So even though Eddie isn’t the only one screaming for Bill to kill IT while its acting as Georgie, Eddie IS the only one IT reacts to.

“Kill It, Bill!” Eddie shouted. “That’s not your brother! Kill It while it’s small! Kill It NOW!”

George glanced at Eddie, cutting his shiny-silver eyes that way for just a moment, and Eddie reeled back and struck the wall as if he had been pushed.

As an adult...

- He is the quickest of any of the Losers, aside from maybe Bev, to pick up and leave his old life behind without thinking much of it - because it was his duty, and his friends needed him. He doesn’t throw up, he doesn’t need to get wasted, he just packs a suitcase and leaves.

- He fucking MURDERS HENRY BOWERS!! Henry comes into his room, a fair amount taller and a hundred pounds heavier, catching him off guard and calling him a fag, repeatedly, and overpowers him, and Eddie doesn’t just accept that this is the end, he fights back. He has a broken bottle as his only weapon, gets his arm broken again, and still doesn’t give up. He straight up murders Henry. Even though Henry was weakened by Mike, Eddie took a chance on fighting him. That shit is brave.

- He refuses to go to the doctor for his newly broken arm, despite having spent the last 27 years seeing a doctor every two weeks for “check ups”, because it would mean not being able to fight IT again, and possibly getting the whole group in trouble for Henry’s death.

- He still is willing to do anything for his friends, especially Bill, 27 years later, despite spending those 27 years living in fear and being manipulated by Sonia and then Myra into believing he is weak. He ALWAYS puts his friends first and acts with extreme bravery when the situation calls for it.

Bill nodded again. “Can you do it? With your a-a-arm broken?”

“I can for you, Bill.”

- This one goes without saying, but while Bill and Richie are trapped in the shadow/in the deadlights, Eddie is watching and frantically thinking that the rest of them should be DOING something. But he doesn’t act, because Richie seems to have it under control. Then, Richie doesn’t anymore - Eddie hears him in his mind that he’s losing it, and instantly leaps into action. He tries the same act of selfless bravery he committed a child. Foolish, selfless bravery. And it works - it frees Bill and Richie. But...

- Eddie spent so much time thinking about how readily he would die for his friends, and he eventually does. But even in that moment, when he’s literally dying, he feels absolutely no fear, only - at long last - self acceptance, and love. His final act of bravery is casting away his mother’s hold over him at long last, feeling true clarity for who he is and what that means, and almost ALMOST gets the words out before dying.

In the movie...

- He slaps Pennywise even though in his mind he’s about to die, because he’s not going to take it lying down.

- He overcomes his fear of greywater to run around the sewers, for his friends, and because it’s for the greater good.

- He overcomes his fear of blood and germs to help patch up a kid he literally just met.

- He’s the first to run out of the sewer opening to help Ben when Ben falls into the stream, hurt.

- He leaps out into the front lines during the rock fight because he’s brave as shit and doesn’t care what happens to him as long as he’s defending his friends.

- He is the one who is MOST concerned with keeping the group together in the sewers - he’s the first to scream for Mike in the well, he’s the first to notice Stan is missing, and he runs after Bill with the most desperation, screaming for him, not caring at all that he’s getting dirty and germy,

- He stands up to his mother in a different way than in the book, but the message is just the same - my friends need me, so you can’t stop me from helping them.

- He freaking kicks Pennywise right in the face.

- He consistently overcomes his fears, coming back braver and braver each time he does so.

IN CONCLUSION: EDDIE KASPBRAK IS A GRYFFINDOR. Just my humble opinion but like... don’t even try to tell me I don’t “know this character” for not sorting him in Slytherin. Believe me, I know him.

But honestly, point me to the moments in the book or even the movie where it shows that Eddie values ambition and cunning over bravery and selflessness and I’ll concede that your reasoning has validity. Everyone is entitled to their own headcanons, but don’t just say that your opinion is fact without evidence to back it up. Post those receipts, friends!!

#i love slytherin as much as the next person but eddie is not a slytherin #eddie kaspbrak #stephen king's it #it novel #it 2017 #eddie spaghet tea #this is honestly so embarrassing but it had to be done #i'm so sorry #long post #meta #crossovers #my meta #gryffindor eddie #it meta #contributions #hogwarts au

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progressiveparty · 4 years

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Juan González: “Make No Mistake: This Country Is Edging Closer to Neo-Fascist Authoritarianism”

We get an update from Democracy Now! co-host Juan González about his mother and wife, who were infected with COVID-19, and discuss how right-wing Trump supporters are brandishing automatic weapons at protests to demand an end to coronavirus shutdowns and are being egged on by the president. “We should make no mistake, that this country is edging closer and closer to neo-fascist authoritarianism,” says González, expressing concern these actions will become normalized in the lead-up to a bitter national election in November. AMY GOODMAN: This is Democracy Now! , democracynow.org, The Quarantine Report . I’m Amy Goodman in New York, with my co-host Juan González joining from his home in New Jersey, second only to New York with infections and death from COVID-19 with at least 88,000 cases and nearly 4,500 deaths. Juan, welcome. JUAN GONZÁLEZ: Thank you, Amy. And welcome to all of our listeners and viewers across the country and around the world. AMY GOODMAN: So, Juan, before we continue with the show, we spoke on air last Tuesday. Your mother had just gone into the hospital, 92 years old, in New Jersey, and she tested positive for COVID-19. Can you give us an update on your mom and also your wife, Lilia Fernández? JUAN GONZÁLEZ: Yes, Amy. Well, thanks for asking. Yes, my mother was in the hospital for several days, but, thankfully, she was released late last week and was sent to a rehabilitation center, where she’s getting some therapy now to get her strength back. But it seems that she’s out of danger. Likewise with my wife Lilia, we had a rough time last week. She was in really bad shape for several days but now seems to be in the clear. She’s eating well. She has no fever. She’s still in isolation, and she’s going to be in isolation in our house for at least another week to 10 days, but at least the worst appears to be over for our family. And luckily, I haven’t shown any symptoms until now, so, please, keep your fingers crossed. And I want to thank all of the fans of Democracy Now! who tweeted or emailed to us their hopes for the recovery of my family members. AMY GOODMAN: And very quickly, Juan, I think the things that have happened with your family are so instructive. When you called the ambulance for Lilia, the ambulance — the EMT heroes are not talked about enough, but who came in, and those kind of recommendations, like proning, like laying on your stomach to open up your lungs. JUAN GONZÁLEZ: Right. Yeah, we did have to call on Thursday the ambulance, because she was really not only incredibly weak — she didn’t have a fever — but she was having a lot of trouble breathing, and she was also delirious. She couldn’t recall where she was, what was happening, what had happened the day before. And so I really got quite frightened. I called 911. The ambulance came. And these EMTs were This Piece Originally Appeared in www.democracynow.org Read the full article

#coronavirus #pandemic #President #stimulus #Trump #whitehouse

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flighty37-blog · 7 years

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Martyn’s Sick Day

Summary: Martyn isn’t feeling too well. Good job he’s got a live in nurse. Love conquers all, including sickness. Hopefully Martyn will recover. Will include cameos with, Catherine, Dan, and Phil. And a lot of sisterly bossiness and girlfriend bossiness as well. Warnings: Sickness abounds.

Rating: G-PG.

No deaths….Mentions of a dark soul….Guess who mentions their dark soul?

Now onto the story:

Martyn awoke feeling sluggish. He had a headache, and he felt chilly. His stomach was doing somersaults and he felt clammy. He felt a need to rush to the bathroom. Damn VidCon Plague! He sneezed right before he relieved his stomach of its contents from the night before.

“Martyn?” Cornelia’s melodic voice called out to him; he barely heard, because of the now sharp ringing in his ears.

Cornelia not hearing a response from her almost-spouse, but hearing a distinct disgusting splash, found herself in the bathroom. Martyn’s head was inside the bottom half of the toilet and he seemed to be heaving. She knelt beside him, and rubbed circles into his back. He weakly lifted his head and gave her a bleary look.

“Hey Babe; I’d kiss you but I….” He turned his head away from her, and sneezed again, making her wince.

The two very rarely were taken ill. Both being staunch vegetarians. A lifestyle Cornelia had grown up in, but still embraced.

“Nikki, I don’t feel well,” Martyn sniffled.

“I know; come let’s get you into bed. I can cosplay as your nurse,” she took him firmly by the shoulder and they both, managed to stand and wobble precariously to their bed.

She tucked him in, and pulled the duvet neatly to his chin.

“I’ll make some soup and tea with honey, lemon and whiskey,” Cornelia suggested, also adding a thermometer, a bucket and a wet rag to a mental list.

She propped Martyn up to a sitting position, lightly kissed his temple and after putting his laptop and phone next to him scampered away. Martyn hated to see her go, but damn, if he didn’t like to watch her leave. Thank gods she’d put a box of tissues next to him as well. She was such a thoughtful, loving person. He sneezed again. He turned on his laptop and squinted at the screen.

He checked in on Phil and Dan’s Twitters. They were having a ‘Twitter Bant’ going on. He laughed a bit, coughed and sneezed, and liked a couple of posts. Just then his phone buzzed. He looked at the identification.

“Hey Mum,” he croaked out.

“So it’s true; Cornelia said you weren’t feeling well, My Poor Baby! Cornelia assured me that she’s taking right care of you, If you need anything I will be right over, and I will help out,” Catherine promised.

“No Mum; It’s okay. Corn’s got this. She’s had practise. Remember? Eight years,” Martyn gurgled out. His throat was getting scratchier now.

“Okay Marty, just say the word and I’ll fly right there,” Catherine responded.

“No worries Mum, with Nelia tending to me I’ll be well in no time. Relax, call Phil. It’ll set your mind at ease,” Martyn managed before an incredibly wet cough started a constant cough off and he couldn’t catch his breath; making both his abs and throat hurt too much to answer his mother. He did manage a weak, “Bye Mum,” and hung up.

Conveniently the love of his life came prancing back in with a tray of soup, tea, various plague fighting organic vitamins, orange juice and wearing a form fitting nurse’s outfit.

“Hello, I am ‘Nurse Nikki’, I will be waiting on you hand and foot. Whatever you need, just ask, and I shall do your bidding,” ‘Nurse Nikki’ curtsied and grinned. Martyn smiled, coughed, and then sneezed in turn. Cornelia put the tray over his lap, put the bucket next to the bed, and then neatly put a thermometer under his tongue. She slid a cool damp rag over his forehead and waited for the thermometer to beep.

She primly sat down, Cornelia was nothing if not practical, and was a professional. The thermometer went off and she checked it.

“Prognosis not good ‘Patient Lester’. After considerable debate, my suggestion is you lie in bed and get well,” Cornelia diagnosed.

“I’m not a lay about, that’s my brother’s and Dan’s department. I actually like being up early; even if I’ve been up all night,” Martyn weakly protested.

“If you don’t have a ‘lie-in’ you won’t get well. If you don’t get well, your moder will fly here, plane or no plane, and hover and force feed you things. I will get in trouble for not helping you. Then I will cry. Do you like seeing me cry?” Cornelia was being mock serious.

“Definitely not!” Martyn was facetiously offended.

“Alright what’s it going to be? Me or your mother?” She gave him a joking glare.

“You, always you,” Martyn affirmed.

“Good boy,” she patted his hair.

They settled in comfortable silence. Cornelia changed the now dried rag and fed him some soup. Then she gave him some vitamins and he sipped some orange juice. Martyn’s phone beeped again. Then his ring tone sounded.

“This is Nurse Nikki, I will be taking Patient Lester’s calls today,” Cornelia chirped into the mobile as Martyn weakly made a grab for it.

She rolled her eyes and turned on the speaker. It was Dan and Phil.

“Mum rang us, she said that Martyn was, Dying!” Phil’s alarmed voice made his older brother roll his eyes heavenward. Phil meant well, but he was a confirmed hypochondriac.

“She said he was ‘close to death’! And since I’m closer to death than anybody in this weirdly connected, yet fascinating family, we had to ring you up and see if it was true. I mean I’m a professional at being close to Death, after all, since I don’t have a soul,” Dan took over the speaker.

“You have a wholesome side,” Martyn hoarsely argued.

“Goodness you sound horrid,” Phil said.

“Phil!” Dan squeaked out.

“It doesn’t matter if I have a wholesome side. The wholesomeness is barely there. Every day the nihilist side eats at it,” Dan clarified. Making Cornelia, Martyn, and even Phil, groan.

They’d heard all this before. But Dan was the youngest of them all, he was still amusing and slightly doted on.

“It’s just VidCon Plague with a hint of a cold,” Martyn managed.

“Oh Shiles! Did I give it to you? I had it the first week I was back in ‘L-Town’,” Phil sounded very apologetic.

“L-What?” Cornelia asked in a confused voice.

“It’s American slang he picked up. One of our fans jokingly, called London ‘L-Town’, now he’s been annoying me with it. Slipping it covertly into any conversation we have,” Dan answered.

“Dan locked his door on me last night. I even made up a song about it,” Phil chimed in.

“You start singing it, I’m pushing you out of one of the many windows we have!” Dan protested

Then mock arguing started up, the likes of which, Cornelia and Martyn could never get a word in edgeways. So Cornelia pushed the ‘End’ button, and peace reigned supreme.

They both breathed a sigh of relief and Cornelia resumed making her boyfriend continue onto the road of recovery. She got him some fresh soup and some more tissues. Martyn entertained himself answering posts and doing some ‘real business’. Soon he tired out and put his head against the pillows closing his eyes.

Cornelia came and checked in on him, clearing the stuff away. Leaving the vitamins and medicines behind. She started the hot water to prepare for the Hot Toddies. She fielded calls from clients, assured Catherine, Nigel and aforementioned clients that Martyn was definitely not dying and prepared a light salad for her own lunch.

Being one’s own boss was hard work for two people. Now that she was an ‘Army of one’, she felt the double load. She sighed.

Three hours later….

Hot Toddies, a toasted cheese sandwich, some tomato soup and more tissues on the tray, Cornelia ventured back into their bedroom.

“Martyn? Alskling?” She whispered.

His head was leant back, his eyes were closed, and he was snoring in a very congested way. She added cough medicine to the tray, and sat beside him. He was flushed. She used the back of her hand to assess the fever. Perhaps some Vick’s Vapo Rub would be in order, to get the congestion out of his system faster. She turned on Martyn’s phone and put in an order to Tesco’s. They would deliver within the hour.

“N-Nikki?” His wavering voice brought her out of her thoughts, and she plastered a smile onto her face.

“I’m here,” she assured him.

“Thirsty,” he managed.

“Hot Toddy?” she asked.

“Hot like you?” Martyn weakly joked.

“No but reasonably hot,” she answered, the smile broadening.

“I’ll take it,” Martyn said, as it was passed to him and he sipped the concoction.

“Ooh Strong! Like you,” Martyn spoke. He was a bit delirious. The fever must have spiked a bit. Not much, but the fever was definitely higher than it had been three hours ago.

It wasn’t high enough for an ice bath, but if need be, she’d prepare one. Martyn was her top priority. In the even, almost never times, Cornelia got sick, Martyn always kept an eye on her. Sticking by her side. Nursing her back to health using his whole life force. Nothing mattered when she was down and ill. The same courtesy was granted to him now.

They were as close as could be, and loved each other wholeheartedly; Eight years and it still felt like the first time; consummating their relationship.

“Are you okay? Are you ill?” Martyn’s voice pricked through her cloud of thoughts. She’d worried him now.

“No Sweetie, just thinking. I ordered from Tesco’s. They’ll be here within the hour,” she leaned over kissed his temple, fluffed his pillows; and fed him some cough medicine, vitamins and refilled his Toddy.

“You’re so good to me,” Martyn spoke again.

“Because I love you, and you’re ill, and I need you to rally your strength,” Cornelia simply answered.

“I’m trying,” Martyn said.

“I know you are…. Did you read any silly Phanfiction whilst being an invalid?” Cornelia wondered.

“Yeah, I can’t help it. I’m a bit offended that there’s not any fanfics about us,” Martyn coughed out.

“We’re just not as popular. We’re already established and not as fun to write about. Dan and Phil are shrouded in mystery,” Cornelia sighed dramatically.

“Oh well, I like our semi-privacy; The Phan-B-I can’t ‘out’ us, and definitely will not speculate where we live,” Martyn accentuated his reply with a sneeze/cough combo.

“So what was it about?” Cornelia asked.

“Oh, Dan and Phil having an ‘established relationship’, and Phil got sick and Dan took care of him and ended up cuddling him,” Martyn returned and grimaced.

“The opposite would occur. Granted Dan would bring the medicines, ply him with tea; but would ultimately leave Phil to his own devices. But would still check on him to make sure he was still alive,” Cornelia answered.

“Undoubtedly true,” Martyn said and pulled the bucket onto the bed, and heaved into it.

Cornelia cleaned it out and returned it beside the bed, while Martyn carefully ate his soup and nibbled his toasted cheese bread. Cornelia contentedly watched him, until the downstairs buzzer sounded. She relieved their doorstep of its medicinal supplies and carried the two bags upstairs.

A Couple Days Later….

Martyn, formerly of the convalescent ward, was finally better.

More than better. With Cornelia’s love and very put together care, he was glowing with health and vitality. Thankfully she hadn’t caught the ‘VidCon Plague’, but it seemed to have escaped their borders and, had landed, at the still (as of yet) unknown, (to the Phans at least), address of one Daniel Howell/ Phil Lester. Dan was the unfortunate convalescent and Phil was trying his best to restore health and vitality to their youngest member.

“He keeps whining,” Phil said to his (practically) sister.

“He’s the youngest and ill. Of course he’ll whine. Now do you have the recipe for the hot toddies and have you toasted the cheese sandwiches without incident?” Cornelia calmly spoke, as she admired her lover from afar, who was caught up in business talk with one of their buyers in Japan.

“Almost set the flat on fire whilst toasting,” Phil explained.

“Typical,” Cornelia sighed.

“But I made him two sandwiches perfectly toasted and a hot toddy,” Phil said in a proud voice.

“Good boy. Now ring if you need anything further,” Cornelia said and they both said their goodbyes.

In a couple of days more, things would return to their ‘normal state’. Bickering, bossing, and most of all, affection between the four would resume. Until then, she and Martyn were on standby. Martyn finished his call, and turned to look at her. He yawned exaggeratedly, and took her hand in his. They cuddled on the sofa.

The television providing entertainment, a soft almost imperceptible sneeze sounded from the redhead. Oops perhaps it would be Martyn's turn to play nurse? She snuggled closer to him, and drifted off to sleep.

He held onto her, and kept an ear out for any irregular breathing. Quiet descended on the flat. He’d carry her to bed later. For now, he‘d hold onto her, keeping her safe.

The End.

#Martyn and Cornelia fanfic

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