#and yeah there is no perfectly healed state of being

[zepskies]

Wake Me Up - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse! Let me tell you, I’ve had this mini series outlined for months, but now I thought it was finally time to get to it. If you’re not tired of the Break Me Down world yet, I very much hope you enjoy Wake Me Up.

**As a reminder, this story is set shortly after Love Actually, and will contain references from that three-part story. 

Song Inspo: For this whole series it’s “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers. (I pretty much listened to this on repeat.)

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Starting off strong in this one: with mature themes, show level violence, angst, kidnapping, PTSD, mentions of torture (not too graphic), and character death.

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 1: “Familiar Territory”

The start of a new year continued a steady rhythm for you and Ben. Namely, another successful mission for the Supe Affairs team.

While you were patched into the team’s communications line from the safety of your desk back at the S.A. headquarters in New York, your friends were a few states over in Denver, Colorado. They’d just arrested a supe that had been committing a series of bank robberies by literally slipping away from the police, thanks to his particular superpower.

“Somebody better get this shit off of me,” M.M. groused.

He wasn’t too happy about some questionable ooze this particular supe secreted as a defense mechanism. According to Frenchie’s research, it was the same shit that certain frogs could produce to repel predators.

“Need a good hose down, more like,” said Butcher. “You smell fuckin’ foul.”

“Like Satan’s ass crack,” Ben remarked.

You couldn’t hold back a snort of amusement.

“Let’s just get the fuck outta here,” M.M. said, his tone all surly, as per usual. You didn’t envy his plight.

“Good job, guys,” you said, to change the subject. “Now it’s just a short flight back to New York.”

“No layovers this time. I’m not being paid to rot in a fucking airport with a bunch of mouth-breathing assholes and their screaming brats,” Ben said.

Charming. You rolled your eyes, but a smile played on your lips when you imagined his taciturn face.

“Okay, your majesty. I’ll make sure it’s a nonstop flight,” you said. “I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

That last bit, you said with a hint of more behind your words. You drummed your nails on your desk and crossed your legs underneath it. A week was a long time for you and your boyfriend to be apart, and you’d been missing him.

“You better be,” Ben said. His voice was deep and cocky. He was smirking, you were sure, and you knew that he’d understood you perfectly well.

“Anybody else hearing this blatant foreplay?” Hughie quipped.

“I sense cheeks will be cracked tonight,” Frenchie muttered.

“Ugh!” you heard Annie shudder.

You knew she supported you and Ben, but you also knew that she didn’t want to hear about the gushy details. You laughed through your embarrassment. 

“Okay, guys. I’ll see you all tomorrow,” you said, before you officially signed off. 

You grabbed your purse that was stowed away in a desk drawer, fished out your cell phone, and you called Ben’s cell. He picked up on the second ring.

“Yeah?” he said. 

“I love you,” you said with a smile. “Just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

“Mhmm,” he replied. “I’ll see you soon, baby doll.”

You pouted. “Come on, say it.”

“Say what?”

You sighed. You knew he was being deliberately obtuse.

“You know exactly what,” you replied.

Part of you was upset that he didn’t say it back as often as you liked. God forbid Butcher and the others hear him express his affection for you.

But you supposed you understood that any kind of vulnerability was difficult for him, especially in front of others. As much shit as you gave him, you also knew how to pick your battles with Ben.

“I told you. I’ll see you soon,” he said.

You once again tapped your nails, on your armrest this time. After a moment, you relented.

“Okay, baby. Have a safe flight,” you said, even if you were still frowning.

When Ben hung up with you, he let out a deep sigh.

An entire week with these juvenile cocksuckers was almost too much for him to fucking take. While he often felt your presence with you on the comm line during the actual mission, and the occasional phone call on long nights in between, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t enough.

He was ready to go home.

The flight itself was fine, though dealing with civilians and the tiring experience of a long-ass flight made him even more antsy to land. Because even when they got to JFK, he still had a hired car waiting for him to drive him from the airport to get to Scarsdale, and to the apartment he shared with you. It had already been almost a year of you two living there, in a three-bedroom spanning two floors.

Ben hadn’t thought he would get used to such a small place, but it was all right. It had become his home, far more than the penthouses and party mansions ever were, at least.

When he finally got home and unlocked the front door of the apartment, he stepped into darkness. All the lights were off.

Odd, he thought. He called your name while he shut the door behind him, then flicked on the foyer light. He realized then that he hadn’t seen your car in the driveway. Were you still working? It wasn’t unlike you to get caught up with the paperwork and other logistics after a case.

After a quick look around of each room, from the kitchen to the living room, Ben knew you hadn’t come home yet. A frown marred his face.

He went upstairs and entered the bedroom next. He unclipped his wrist guards and took his gloves off first, followed by loosening the collar of his supe suit. The bed was made, untouched since this morning, he was sure.

Then he noticed the scrap of paper resting on his pillow. He picked it up, and his brows furrowed as he read.

By the time you find me, she’ll wish she was dead.

Ben called Grace Mallory first.

When she didn’t answer, he called Butcher next. Ben’s hand shook the slightest bit while holding the phone up to his ear.

“Evenin’, guv,” Butcher answered with a tired sigh. “What’s this about—”

“We have a fucking problem,” Ben growled.

Ben pushed the limits of his Mercedes Benz while driving himself to Supe Affairs.

The others met him there in a conference room, except for Grace, who was on an active case at the moment. There Hughie and Frenchie tapped into the S.A. security footage on their laptops. 

They eventually found you getting into your car in the S.A. garage, about four hours ago. Then two later, the street cameras picked you up somewhere in the Village. Ben recognized the street. 

You probably had dinner with your friend Yvette and her family, but you intended to make it home on time to meet Ben when you left around 9:00 p.m. 

You had parallel parked at a meter on the street. According to the footage, it looked quiet and empty when you headed back to your car. 

You were stopped by someone before you could get the driver’s side door open. It looked like a man’s height and build; he grabbed you by the shoulder and threw a punch you managed to dodge.

You put up a good fight, but you were eventually knocked out with what looked to be a crowbar, at first glance. When Hughie zoomed in, it was actually a black baton. Ben watched it all with a deepening frown. Anger churned in his gut and ignited his blood as he watched your unconscious body being hauled into a black SUV.

“That looks military-issued,” M.M. said, pointing at the baton that the suspect used to hit you.

Butcher nodded, and also noted the man’s fighting style. “That’s a professional.”

“He would have to be, to take her out,” M.M. said, glancing at Ben. “And the timing. They knew you were coming home. That note was personal, besides the fact that they were casing your place…they’ve probably been watching both of you, waiting for the chance to get the jump on you.”

“The question,” Butcher said, “is who the fuck would wanna tangle with Soldier Boy that badly?”   

“Shit. That’s a laundry list, isn’t it?” Hughie said. M.M.’s glance told him to shut the fuck up.

Ben was silent, but his fury was mounting. His head turned sharply to Butcher.

“Get Mallory on the line. Now,” he barked. When no one moved quick enough for him, his temper snapped at its thinly held leash.

“I said right fucking now!”

Slowly you blinked your eyes open. For a moment, you were seeing in double vision. It soon cleared up to reveal dark, damp, musty surroundings.

It smelled familiar; after that mission to find and subdue Sapphire a couple of months ago, you’d recognize a New York sewer anywhere.

Fuuucking shit, you thought with a groan. Your head was aching. You felt a trickle of blood down the side of your neck, and you found yourself in a familiar position—seated on a metal chair with your hands secured behind your back. Your restraints felt like zip ties.

“You finally with us, sweetheart?” asked a man. His voice was smooth and commanding.

“Jackson, I don’t know about this,” whispered someone else. Another man, though he sounded slightly younger, reminding you of Hughie.

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy,” Jackson snapped.

At least you had a name. He stepped into the light that came from a couple of small lanterns. One was propped on top of a bucket by the wall. The other was on a plastic fold out table that you saw a few feet beside you.

The man who stepped into your line of vision was tall, maybe around Ben’s height, if just shy of his build. He was blonde, just like his skinnier friend. They shared some notable facial features and coloring, but while Jackson’s eyes were dark brown and self-assured, the younger man’s were blue and apprehensive. If you had to guess, they looked like brothers.

“Nice digs,” you remarked, gesturing with your gaze at your surroundings.

Jackson rose a brow, crossing his arms.

“You’re taking all this pretty well,” he said. 

You huffed humorlessly.

“This isn’t exactly my first kidnapping,” you said.

He quirked his head and drew closer.   

“All right. Well, since we’re on the clock, let me tell you why you’re here,” he said. He bent down in front of you so that his face was level with yours. “I need you, sweetheart. You’re going to tell me how to bring down Soldier Boy. How to kill him. How to end him. Then maybe, I’ll let you go without gouging out those pretty eyes.”

You stared back at Jackson with an expression that didn’t change.

Then you spat in his face.

And you expected the hard, back-handed slap that made your head whip to the side. It rattled you for a moment as you caught your breath, but you recovered enough to lean back in your seat. Your eyes met Jackson’s directly after he wiped his face with his shirt. “Tommy” stood off to the side behind his partner. He’d looked away when you were hit.

You focused on the other man, Jackson. He was wearing black cargo pants to match his boots, and a belt with a gun on his hip. He carried himself like a trained killer.

“Military, government agency, or private sector?” you asked.

His head tilted. He studied you, just like you were studying him.

“None of the above really,” he said. “Not anymore.”

He walked over to the fold out table, where he grabbed a black bag and unzipped it. A flash of silver gleamed as he pulled out one sharp instrument after the next. You had to hide your apprehension, and fear that made your insides tremble.

He glanced over at you.

“Let’s get started,” he said.

Hours later, you were teetering on the edge of consciousness.

After the last hit, you spat a wad of phlegm and blood onto Jackson’s shoes. He rotated the ache out of his hand. He looked down at you through furrowed brows.

“Damn, bitch,” he said, catching his breath. “You can take a hit. I’ll give you that.” 

“My dad was a Marine, numb nuts,” you managed to reply, through labored breaths. “He used to hit harder with his open hand than all the strength in that limp-dick wrist of yours.” 

Jackson smirked. “Christ. Daddy issues, huh? Why doesn’t that surprise me.” 

You gave him a droll look. Again, to cover your fear, because you weren’t willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing it.

Angered and frustrated by that defiance, he reached down and grabbed your neck and jaw with one hand. You winced at the force of his grip, but when he started squeezing, this was the one thing that made you truly whimper. You tried not to think about the ghost of your father’s hand around your neck.

“Don’t you get it, asshole?” you gritted out while struggling for breath. “You can’t kill him. No one can. Stronger, smarter people than you have tried.” 

Moments ticked by while Jackson contemplated your words. 

Then he released you. You sucked in gulps of air and tried not to cough out a lung.

“Maybe,” he said. “But Soldier Boy’s got a weakness. If anyone knows it, I’ve got a feeling it’s you.” 

You can’t say anything. You can’t, you can’t, you can’t. 

That had been your mantra for every minute you had spent in this hole. You shook your head.

“Look, Jackson.” You sucked in another breath to steady yourself, and blink a drip of blood out of your eyes. “He’s going to kill you. You and your brother. Take your family and run, while you’ve still got a chance.” 

“…You know what? You’re probably right,” Jackson said, scratching the back of his head with his crimson-stained hand. “But I just realized something.”

He leaned down again, until he was level with your face.

“When he finds you, drowned in your own goddamn blood…I think the look on his face might just be enough for me.”

Your eyes widened. 

It took days. Three painful days to pick up the threads, which led closer to home than anyone could’ve anticipated. 

Grace Mallory put pressure across the chain of command, and even reached out to the FBI for assistance. An alert email finally came to her phone, and she realized that an agent on her own payroll had been flagged for never reporting back for his debriefing on a reconnaissance mission.

That agent was Jackson Rawlins.

The further she read into his file, the worse her frown became. She immediately sent the lead to Ben, Butcher, and the rest of the team to run down. For the first time in years, Grace actually prayed.

She prayed that they would reach you in time. It wasn’t until then that she realized it; she hadn’t thought of you as a cog in her system for some time now—not even as leverage against Soldier Boy. She was genuinely concerned about you.

Grace worried that she was setting herself up for disappointment…if it was too late. However, she also worried about what would happen if you didn’t survive. She considered how Ben might react, with that nuclear power within him that he was still learning to control. The consequences of this mission could very well be catastrophic. 

You were losing track of time in this windowless pit. You knew it had been days, but you didn’t remember how many. The cellar was cold, and the way sound and air traveled, it felt like you were underground. It certainly smelled like it—damp and gross. It made you certain this was a sewer.

Now this is Satan’s ass crack, you thought. You winced at the pain that radiated…pretty much everywhere. Blood had dried from various lacerations across your face, neck, chest, and arms, and bruises were dark against your skin.

Your blouse was in tatters, and your jeans had bleeding rips as well, though at least he’d kept your ankle boots on. You were too weak even for hunger. And a large, heavy chain attached to manacles on your wrists had replaced the zip ties. One end of the chain was fastened between the wall and a line of plumbing.

Footsteps echoed down the hall behind you. You closed your eyes and steeled yourself.

“Are we actually gonna have a conversation today?” Jackson asked.

“Depends,” you replied, your voice dry and coarse. “Are you going to tell me why you hate Ben so much?”

An angry sigh escaped Jackson’s lips. He pointed up in frustration.

“Ben.” Jackson rolled and cracked his neck, like just the mention of your boyfriend’s real name was disgusting to this man.

“You talk about him like he’s a real fucking person. Not like the animal supe he is,” he said.

“He is a person,” you said, both in exhaustion, and in pain. “And he’s trying to be better. Look, he’s done terrible things. I’m not saying he hasn’t. I don’t know what he’s done to you in the past, but—”

Jackson shut you up with a sharp backhand. It made black spots encroach on your vision as you caught your breath.

You noticed his brother Tom come in the room as well, to watch and worry. He didn’t seem comfortable with this way of things. He looked like a civilian. Maybe you could use that to your advantage…

But you lost track of thought after that, when Jackson started in on you with either his hands, or the creativity of the instruments on the table nearby. 

You tried to block out the pain, along with his questions about Ben. If you couldn’t talk about him, you couldn’t let yourself think about him. So you couldn’t say anything.

Not about the Novichok nerve agent, one of the few things that had been found to incapacitate him. Not his imprisonment by Vought or the S.A.—nothing that your captor could one day use against Ben.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

Even though all you wanted right now was him. 

Ben, please…

You zoned in and out of consciousness from there.

When you next registered being awake, mercifully, you were left alone. You raised your head when Tom came to blot at least some of your wounds and give you water. You’d only eaten small pieces of protein bars for days. 

“I’m sorry,” Tom whispered.

“Why does he want Ben?” you wheezed. “Why are you going along with this if you’re so damn sorry?”

Tom looked up at you with pain and grief in his blue eyes. He sighed and dragged a nearby chair from the table. He sat beside you while he fed you half a protein bar. It was a struggle to even get the pieces down.

“Last year,” said Tom, clearing his throat. “I lived in the building that Soldier Boy blew up when he got back from…wherever the Russians had him.”

Your eyes widened as you processed that. “You…but you made it out. Why—”

“I wasn’t home. I was at work,” Tom said. His voice was pained as his eyes became red and glassy. “Our mom wasn’t so lucky.”

You sighed, closing your eyes.

“She was retired, and I was taking care of her,” Tom said. He wiped at his eyes and sniffed. “Jackson wasn’t here. He was on a mission in Colombia. Told me he was cleaning up some cartel shit.”

At that, you had a sneaking suspicion that coiled in your gut. Ben had left a bit of a mess when he peaced out of Colombia, with an entire plane filled with drugs and weapons from whatever cartel he’d infiltrated. (In his words, he’d cut the head off the snake.)

Grace told you she’d sent a team in to handle that mess…

“Your brother—who does he work for?” you asked. Though you had a feeling you knew the answer.

Tom seemed to read your understanding, and his face turned grim.

“The CIA,” he said.

Fuck, you grimaced. So not only had Ben been responsible for their mother’s death, but Jackson had been part of the team that cleaned up his mess in South America. It explained why Jackson was somehow able to find your information; Supe Affairs had become a subsect of the CIA, thanks to Grace. 

“I didn’t know he was planning this. I swear to God. All he said was that he had a way to get at Soldier Boy,” Tom said. You let out a deep breath.

“I’m sorry for your loss. I really am,” you said. Tears welled up hot in your eyes. “But you need to let me go. For your own safety, believe me.”

You saw the guilt, the sadness, the regret on Tom’s face. The brief indecision was overtaken when he glanced down the hall. You knew then that he was more afraid of his own brother than he was willing to do the right thing.

Your tears spilled over, though you tried to breathe through it. You’d tried to save them for when you were alone, those seldom few, cold hours, but you were reaching your breaking point.

“Okay, before I go, do you have to use the bathroom?” Tom asked. There was a bucket in the corner, and Jackson preferred it away from the chair. It was the only time Tom was allowed to unchain you from the wall and let you stretch your legs.

Letting out an exhausted sigh, you nodded in agreement. It was humiliating to know you were going to have to do this yet again, in a bucket, with company. With the manacles still on your wrists, he brought you over to the “special” corner.

Tom sighed and looked away to give you some semblance of privacy.

That was when you used every scrap of energy you had left in you.

You grabbed the chain and yanked it out of his hands long enough to wrap it around his neck from behind. You cut off his sounds of strain and kicked out his knees, so he was forced to kneel on the ground.

You wrapped the rest of the chain around your thigh, giving you the leverage you needed to tighten your grip and choke him out, until he was unconscious. His body fell to the side, and you heaved for breath. Once again, there were black spots in your vision, but you did your best to blink them away.

Now set with determination, you made your way to the plastic table and searched for the key to your chains. After the manacles were unlocked, you rubbed at your raw wrists and rapidly scanned the room. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you calculated which way you should go to try and escape.

There were three possibilities in this clearing under the sewer: left, right, or straight ahead. Every time Tom or Jackson emerged, it sounded like it was behind you. The chair was facing to the east, which meant you had to take the left tunnel.

You ran in that direction and tried to find a metal ladder that would take you to whatever manhole cover these guys had detached. Someone couldn’t just open up any of those iron plates without the right tools, from the inside or the outside.

You walked as fast as you could manage, even though your entire body protested in pain. Then finally, you saw a black duffel bag lying on the ground, against the wall. Next to it was a metal ladder that went all the way up to the top.

“Jackson, don’t!”

You heard Tom’s voice, but you felt the presence behind you too late. Jackson hit you in the back of the head with that damn baton, so hard that even he grimaced at how the sound echoed on the walls. You crumpled to the ground.

Jackson stood over you with a grim set to his face. He turned to his brother with a shake of his head.

“She’s a walking welt, and you couldn’t handle her?” he said.

“This is too much,” Tom said in worry. He bent down and held two fingers to your neck. He still felt a pulse, at least, but when he felt behind your head, he found blood. His hand shook as he stared at it.

“If you didn’t want in on this, you should’ve said so from the beginning,” said Jackson. He spun the baton in his hand and clipped the hilt to his belt, from a small metal loop on the end of it.

“You didn’t say anything about…about this!” Tom argued. He cleaned your blood off on his jacket.

Jackson regarded his brother with disappointment, and he hefted you up into his arms. Tom followed him back to their setup with your makeshift prison. There Jackson left you lying on the ground, and chained you back up by your wrists for good measure. He then literally and figuratively wiped his hands of you.

“Come on, we’re leaving,” he said. “For good this time.”

Tom looked at you, then his brother in shock. There was even emotion in his eyes.   

“We’re leaving her to die,” he said, his voice unsteady. He knew then, that their mother wouldn't have wanted this in her name. If she saw both of them now, she wouldn't recognize them.

Jackson grabbed his younger brother where his neck met his shoulder. An iron grip.

“And what do you think Soldier Boy is going to do if he finds us?” Jackson asked. His gaze encouraged Tom to explore that reality for a moment.

Jackson nodded at your unconscious form. “Trust me, that bitch was never going to talk. But this is almost better.”

It wasn’t right, Tom thought. He knew it, deep in his heart, but he wasn’t strong like his brother, or even like you.

That was when they heard it. The rumble of engines dying and tires rolling overhead, dislodging a few stray pebbles and dust from the ceiling. Jackson’s eyes widened. 

“Fuck!” he muttered. “All right, let’s go.”

Jackson forced his younger brother to leave the sewer with him, and leave you chained up on the floor.

Ben, Butcher, M.M., and Frenchie had done much of the legwork in tracking down Jackson Rawlins and his brother Tom (with help from Annie, Kimiko, and Hughie of course). Frenchie had found your likely location with a powerful thermal scanner, courtesy of Grace.

Now, they’d driven up to the wide alley in the city and blocked off all the exits on the block. Ben was the first to get his boots on the ground and stride toward the point of entry, where according to Frenchie’s scanners, more than one body was holed up in the sewer. He held his shield at his side and at the ready when the manhole cover loosened, and slid open.

A small gas bomb rolled out towards his feet, but it was just tear gas, not the kind of thing that could actually affect him. Ben picked up the little round ball of metal and crushed it in his hand. While the rest of the team dove for the oxygen masks stored in the car, Ben stalked forward.

Seeing the silhouette of a man, Ben threw his shield hard enough to rattle a supe.

Jackson Rawlins was thrown clean onto his back with a force that stole the breath from his lungs, even through his gas mask. It also broke half a dozen ribs. Ben was soon bearing on top of him and ripping off the mask.

Jackson cried out as remnants of the tear gas seared his eyes.

“Got us a runner!” Butcher shouted. He intercepted and grabbed up a second man who tried to escape. Tom Rawlins wasn’t the threat, but he still wasn’t going free. M.M. and Frenchie also dove down into the sewer to try and find you after they got their gas masks on.

Meanwhile, Ben hauled Jackson up by his neck and walked him back until he hit the brick wall beside a nail salon. Jackson grunted in pain. Every breath he took was now agonizing, thanks to his now battered and broken ribs.

“Where is she?” Ben demanded.

Jackson actually laughed in his face, despite his now bloodshot eyes.

“All you fucking supes are the same,” he said. “But you…you’re the worst. Quite literally, the original asshole. And what does the government do? What does the world do? Gives you a pass on decades of indiscretions, fuck ups, and straight up murder.” 

Ben didn’t outwardly react, but he knew what Jackson’s problem was. He knew he killed the man’s family. Collateral damage—something that had caused Ben more than one argument with you in the past.

But he didn’t care.

He didn’t care, because all he could see in his mind’s eye was a metal bat hitting the back of your head and knocking you clean out. He saw you being taken against your will. Taken from him. And that, he couldn’t abide.

“Where. Is she?” Ben said, as his grip flexed around the other man’s neck. It would be easy. Easier than snapping a toothpick. And he warned, “Don’t make me fucking repeat myself.”

“Dead, probably,” Jackson spat, despite his red and bleary eyes. “Real tough bitch. I see why you’re fucking her…I had me a little taste myself.”

In that moment, Ben couldn’t compute.

His green eyes widened. His breath stilled.

Then his jaw clenched so tight that his teeth were grinding. A fire in his blood and behind his eyes, and fury that burned hot in his chest, almost giving it that nuclear glow.

His hand tightened and choked any salacious words Jackson might’ve spewed out next.

“He didn’t!” Tom shouted out. He was being restrained by Butcher. Ben glanced at them out of the corner of his eye.  

“He didn’t touch her. Not like that,” Tom said. He looked sincere.  

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy,” said his older brother. 

It earned Ben’s attention back. Jackson had the look of a man who knew he was going to die either way.

Ben’s lips curled into a sneer. He took the man’s head with both hands, and slowly crushed his skull. The scream echoed between Ben’s ears, but he was only satisfied when Jackson’s lifeless body dropped at his feet.

He turned to the other Rawlins next.

Tom had screamed as well to watch his brother’s life ended before his eyes. He now stared straight into Soldier Boy’s, pleading wordlessly for his own life. Ben started toward him.

“Please,” Tom said. He tried twisting away from Butcher, who held firm to the man’s arm. The Brit knew all too well, the rage that Ben had in his blood.

“Ben,” Annie tried, and she even stepped forward. Butcher held a hand out against her with a knowing look. It wouldn’t be wise to stand in the way.

“Hey!” M.M. shouted up from down the open hatch of the sewer. “We found her! Need help getting her loose.”

Ben paused in his steps. Tom was shaking, lips trembling, petrified.

Tilting his head, Ben let out a subtle breath through his nose. He began to turn back toward the sewer.

At the last moment, however, he drew his gun and shot Tom Rawlins between the eyes. The man was dead before he hit the ground.

Annie and Hughie flinched, but Butcher and Kimiko weren’t surprised in the least.

Meanwhile, Ben made his way back towards M.M.’s voice, and into the sewer. He heard M.M. and Frenchie arguing about first aid and head wounds, the further in he went. Ben’s dark mood blackened even more along the way.

Once he reached them, he also reached you, held in M.M.’s arms as he cradled your head.

You were unconscious with your wrists locked into heavy chains. The furrow between Ben’s brows deepened, but he got down to his knees beside you and first, broke your chains. He guided you out of M.M.’s arms and into his own, making sure to support your head. Blood was already staining his half-glove and fingers.

It was then that he noticed the small crimson pool lying where your body had been, likely from the wound he could feel at the back of your head. Ben’s mouth trembled the slightest bit, mostly in anger as he drew himself back onto his feet. Your body was littered with bruises, cuts both shallow and deep made by what looked like a blade, and God knew what else.

“I had me a little taste myself,” Jackson had taunted.

No, Ben internally shook that thought from his mind. No, you hadn’t been touched like that, at least, according to the sniveling, cock-sucking brother.

But can you trust that little cunt’s word?

Ben briefly closed his eyes, pressing his lips to your forehead. He continued walking down the hall and towards the light and fresh air of the world above.

You’re gonna be just fine, he promised you, if just within the safety of his mind.

Yeah, you would be all right.

He was going to make sure of it.

AN: 🫣 I'm sorry...BUT, I can promise it will get better (eventually). First, it's going to get worse.

Next Time:

It was a slow process, and it hurt, but you managed to turn your head. You saw a man sitting in the corner with a laptop balanced on his lap. He typed with two fingers at a time, which reminded you of your grandfather. His brown hair fell over his furrowed brows, but his beard was well trimmed.

His head soon raised, possibly feeling the weight of your gaze. His eyes widened a fraction, and he hastily closed the laptop and set it down on his seat before he went to you. You frowned when he came to sit at your bedside, and even touched your cheek with a gentle hand.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth. “How’re you feeling?”

You didn’t have the energy to lean away from his hand, but you did give him a look of weary confusion.

“I…I don’t…who are you?” you asked.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

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[yurinaa-world]

hello, can I request Jing Yuan, Caelus and Welt with an injury prone reader who constantly hides and dismisses their injuries? (Getting hit by falling objects, being the unfortunate victim of harsh attacks, Getting shoved down a flight of stairs by accident or tripping over objects)

Despite the fast reflexes developed to avoid a good chunk of injuries, they still get hurt to the point of needing medical aid (bloody head, heavy bleeding ext.) and are unable to tell immediately due to their high pain tolerance. Even then, reader avoid being healed like the the plague and running off to tend to their injuries on their own. If they wake up in a hospital, they will sneak out of said hospital and dismiss concerns of their Injuries when found.

Reader will say "oh its just a scratch" as if their arm hadn't been nearly mauled by a bear.

Thanks,

Characters: Jing Yuan, Dan Heng, and Welt yang x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: reader who get injured easily, but dismisses it

Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes, mentions of blood, stitches, wounds/injuries

Notes: sorry I don't write for Cealus so I replaced him with Dan Heng if you don't mind

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

You’ve been avoiding him for a while; anytime you see him around the corner, you run the opposite way. You were injured from a pretty nasty fight with monsters, but knowing Jing Yuan, you would have to wait a good 5 hours to heal up properly so he wouldn’t notice the injury and force you into the hospital, and you would rather deal with it yourself. One thing is that he doesn’t take your word on you dismissing your injuries. Don’t believe he doesn’t notice since you always do the same thing when this happens.

You also go to the guest bathroom to stitch and clean yourself up properly, especially making sure that the servants won’t tell Jing Yuan, yet some little stitching does. You might as well go through the guest window instead of the door (which you did go through a handful of times).

You have to clean the evidence, like scrubbing down everything to make sure not even a drop of blood is left behind, and burn the cloth that had all your blood on it along with stings and needles used for your stitches (anything you used to clean your wounds).

All that’s left is to face him, which is another annoying problem.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

+(Bonus blurb)

You lay back against the headboard of your shared bed. stretching your shoulder and sighing, feeling the little sting from the stitches that you did yourself for a couple of hours. “Is something wrong with your shoulder?” Jing Yuan asks while reading his book.

He didn’t even glance up from the text in front of him. You looked down at your shoulder, the very tint of where the stitches are. “Oh no, I’m fine, just stiff is all." “Are you sure?" "yeah,” you nodded, sweating a little.

"I didn’t see you today,” he commented, saying it in an unusual tone that made you look over at him. It was an expression you never thought he would wear—blank, almost mad, or not wanting to say anything.

“Ah, I stayed home,” you replied, looking away. “The servants informed me that you went out and then came back home bloody.” Oh, you gotta be kidding about those damn snitches!

you thought, but instead just smiled nervously at Jing Yuan. He finally closed his book and looked up at you, his gold eyes freaking at you.

“well?”

"I tripped!"

“You can’t fool me," he stated flatly, crossing his arms around his chest and face and switching to his smirk, making a whole change in the atmosphere, and you couldn’t help but shiver.

"Fine," you huffed, rolling your eyes. "I got a little hurt and fixed myself with stitches. “I’m perfectly fine, though!" You added trying to play off your injury.

“What shall I do with you? Maybe tie you up?”

“Tie me up?! Over this!”

“Sounds fitting for you.”

𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔

You avoid everyone like plague and stay in your room, locking your door and not letting anyone in. It takes you such a long time to stitch up and clean up your wounds. If March knows, and even if you asked her to keep it away from Dan Heng,  she just can’t keep her mouth shut.

Whenever you do get hurt in front of him, you immediately tell him you're fine and avoid any help from him, even if you look like you got jumped by 15 different people.

There have been times you forgot to lock your door, which happens when you run into your room cleaning up your very messed-up wounds without more of your blood ruining your floor.

But also the part about having a big mouth and your door being unlocked—yeah,  him seeing your trashy, shaky hand trying to stitch yourself up freaks him out that he has to help you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

+(Bonus blurb)

You groan in annoyance, sitting at your little two-seat table, medkit on your table, trying your best to pull string in the skin of your arm without causing more damage than necessary. needle going through your skin with the rest of the string in your mouth. Your lips tug on the thread, and you feel the tug in your teeth.

“What are you doing?” You hear Dan Heng say something, making you stop in your tracks as you attempt to pull the string out of your mouth. You sigh, turning around to face Dan Heng. "Uh, Dan Heng, what are you doing here?" you sweat. “March said you weren’t feeling well and I should check on you; it looks like she’s right." stupid march! “You don’t need to bother,” yet he doesn’t listen to you.

He goes over to your chair beside the one you were in, pulling it up so that he is sitting next to you, taking your arm with trashy stitches on it, removing it, and cutting it off for a fresh new start.

"You shouldn’t have the string in your mouth; germs could transfer to the wound and give you an infection.”

He scolded gently, cleaning up the wound, taking the string, and gently taking your arm, slowly taking the needle and gently pulling it through your skin, being careful not to tear the flesh.

“Dr. Dan Heng, you really do know everything." You laugh slightly while watching him work his magic on your arm.

“Dr. Dan Heng? It’s good to know about this stuff when it comes to you,” he shrugs nonchalantly. He completely fixes your arm, and you look at your cleaned arm with an impressed look.

“Thank you, Dan Heng.”

𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓉 𝓎𝒶𝓃𝑔

You worry a lot about him; you can’t even hide it or play it off with him; he can just see the slight change in your body, your stunning white walking, or how you clutch at your shoulder and go to change bandages, and even more blood starts to soak out.

While you are sleeping together, he wakes up to a weird feeling, turning the lamp to see a little pool of blood by the shoulder and the shoulder of your clothes, also stained in crimson red, while you look so uncomfortable by the wet feeling.

He wakes you up, and you fix up while you're still half asleep, not knowing what’s even happening as he cleans the sheets, wounds, and clothes to make sure your blood doesn’t leak out again.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[iheartmapi]

heyyy,

can you write alexia x reader angst if youre ok with it?

like them having a pretty harsh argument (because of what ever reason, you decide) and saying the meanest things to eachothet. Even though the argument startet soft, it ended with alexia saying stuff like: „the team is even successful without you we dont actually need you!“whilst r is trying to recover from an bad injury or „sometimes you truly are pathetic you know“ or maybe „can you shut tf up!? Is it possible seeing you and not getting annoyed of you for once?!“ or „no wonder you failed/lost/couldnt achieve/dont/ cant do this or that etc.. (the phrases are related to reader’s insecurities) alexia ends up going for a walk but when she returns r already put alexias bed stuff on the Couch and wont let her in the bedroom. After 1-2 days of not talking and ale trying to apologize, r comes up to her ( now even more insecure) happy but fearful ending pls make it as angsty as you possibly can. i hope it’s understood cause english isnt my first language:)

(I’ll try my best!!! Also don’t worry cause you wrote it perfectly and English isn’t my first language either so I get it)

Teddy bear

(Yes I listened to Melanie Martinez’s teddy bear when writing this)

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: Alexia doesn’t always watch her words, and she sure as hell doesn’t during the most intense argument the two of you had ever.

Angst with a happy-ish ending.

TW: slightly toxic, degrading thoughts about one self, crude language,

Word count: 1,925

15:00pm

The hour Alexia returned home after being away with the team for matches, she ran a hand through her blonde hair..Alexia loved her profession but it was still a very tiring one, all she was dreaming of in the moment was a nice warm bath to soothe her sore muscles and a good night’s sleep..

She dragged her feet through the front door and dropped her bags in the foyer and went ahead to the living room.

Upon entering Alexia’s eyes landed on you, you were relaxing on the couch with a random book by some bestseller author which really could be anyone, but you didn’t really care…you didn’t have much to do due to being prescribed to stay home to heal from a recent injury on the pitch. Lately you’ve been apprehensive and often worried all because of your injury and inability to play.

You looked up from your cheap book.

“Hi”

“Hey”

The exchange of words between the two of you was short and awkward, this weird tension appeared in the house and between you two before Alexia’s trip, its genesis wasn’t really clear to her..but she figured it was all a part of your hyper-sensitivity from the injury and would pass quickly anyways.

Alexia passed you and went to the kitchen to fetch herself a drink, she gulped some down, taking in the taste of being back home before returning to the living room, the silence went on, but you weren’t focused on your book anymore, though you pretended to be, secretly you were eyeing her every move, from when she walked into the living room to now as she was standing by the window looking outside.

You gulped, “Alexia?”

“Yeah?”

“Listen I-“ you rethought that “We…have something to talk about” the knots in your stomach were multiplying from stress each minute, Alexia was looking at you, the intensity of her gaze wasn’t helping you out.

“It’s about this specific..behaviour of yours” You started “I think you’re- um..I…” What were you supposed to say? You rehearsed this so many times before she came back yet now you felt as if you were on fire and your memory was gone. “I think sometimes you’re too touchy with others” you finally choked it out.

Alexia looked at you with an almost judging look “As in?” She stated sharply, “I mean like..we’re girlfriends you know? And I don’t want to forbid you from hugging others and stuff but sometimes you act so..intensely affectionate, like with Ona-“ Alexia immediately butted in “Are you being serious right now?” She belted at you “For fucks sake Y/n…you think I’m cheating on you with the whole team just because I hug them or something?” You feared this exact reaction from her “I didn’t say that…” You murmured “You kind of did though, I just got back and this is the greeting I get? Can’t you ever knock it down a notch?” She started ranting “You’re so melodramatic, as always” she scoffed.

“I’m not being melodramatic” you said, you felt weak against Alexia but you couldn’t just let her walk over you like this in this argument. “So it’s wrong of me to be afraid of my own damn girlfriend being so touchy with everyone?” You protested “It’s always like this, I’m the bad guy and you’re the victim”

Alexia took a deep breath, you swear you could detect the anger forming inside her pupils, then she opened her mouth, and yelled at you.

“Can you shut the fuck up?! Is it possible, seeing you and not getting annoyed of you for once?!” She scowled, you opened your mouth wanting to protect yourself, or calm her down, just say anything, but hell…it’s like every word ran away from you.

“See? You can’t even form a sentence, cause you know that you’re spitting straight bullshit” Alexia rolled her eyes “Sometimes you truly are pathetic you know”

Wow. Your eyes widened and you closed your mouth, not believing the clear poison coming out of your girlfriend’s lips. “I wanted you to get over this whole injury thing, wanted to try and make you happy, but you can’t do anything besides being stingy all the time. But you know what?” She waited a minute before adding “You’re stingy even without the goddamn injury, the team is successful, even without you! I hope you know we don’t actually need you?!” tears prickled at your eyes, begging to be let out, you couldn’t handle it, and they started running down your cheeks.

“Here you go now! Crying like a fucking baby, I’m not putting up with you right now” she barked before turning from you and heading out of the living room.

You sat still in your place like you were frozen, and truly you were, by the coldness Alexia just showed you, you heard her yelling “I’m going for a walk!” Before the front door swung shut. And then it came, you started crying, the tears marching down your cheeks and reaching your neck like a furious army, maybe she was right? She always was wasn’t she? Now you regretted ever mentioning that, but you acted stupid and brought up something that didn’t matter at all, now here you were, crying all alone like a big baby.

You stood up, your legs were shaking, in fact every inch of your body was, you stumbled towards the bedroom, feeling stupid but also cheated, the closet doors opened hastily and your shaky hands reached for every piece that belonged to Alexia, you took her bags from the foyer and threw everything inside…were you in an irrational state of mind? Yeah, probably…

Now everything of hers was in the bag, you glanced at the nightstand, seeing the framed picture of you two, kissing, but you couldn’t stand to see that happy memory right now. The frame was put down so that the photo couldn’t be seen by you and then you took the bags and simply threw them onto the couch, leaving them there for Alexia to see when she gets back. Now you didn’t really know what to do with yourself, finally you slumped on the bed like a picture of misery, left alone with your thoughts only.

Alexia knew she couldn’t stay outside all day even though you irritated her to the core, she just couldn’t understand why you were being so irrational…always acting so difficult, she thought to herself, she stomped down the street, already seeing the peak of the neighbourhood the two of you lived in, dreading seeing you again.

It was kinda weird, she started thinking about it deeply, she loved you, but at the same time you were such a big pain in the ass literally everyday..if only you wanted to cooperate and listen to her more most of your arguments wouldn’t even happen in the first place, you should know that she wasn’t your property, instead of being so damn jealous and giving her your attitude.

The house keys clicked in place and turned the locks to your home, though the home was literally a quiet battlefield lately. She sighed as her feet made contact with the familiar flooring. It was quiet, you were probably sulking in some corner and just didn’t want to greet her or make up for your stupid behaviour, always acting like a child afterwards such moments in your relationship.

The shock she felt when she entered the living room and was met with the sight of her bags atop the couch was immense. For a moment Alexia just started at them in disbelief before rage filled her again, she sauntered over to the bags observing them resentfully, where the hell were you? Cause she wasn’t going to let this go.

Kitchen, bathroom, small storage, balcony, backyard, nowhere. You were nowhere, but there was one place she hadn’t checked, the bedroom. There was no fucking way you just packed her bags and left the house, so you had to be there…

Firmly, her hand grasped the handle of the door, expecting to see you inside, acting like a saint..but the moment she turned it, it didn’t open, it was locked. So you were inside! Alexia angrily turned the handle a couple times more before knocking on the door. “Y/n?” She stated loudly, her tone was very passive aggressive, no answer. Then she just went ballistic and pounded on the door “Y/n! Let me in, god damn it!” Alexia didn’t stop until she heard your much quieter and shaky voice calling to her beyond the door. “I-I’m not letting you in Alexia!” You stated, “What?!” Her brows furrowed before she groaned in fury “This relationship is a fucking joke!” And then she stormed off.

You curled on the bed, thinking about what you’ve done, was this the correct way of handling things? Hell, you wished you knew, but nothing made sense to you now.

Two days, that’s how much time has passed since that ugly argument of yours, you eventually unlocked the bedroom and went out to see Alexia’s face filled with annoyance but she tried to talk to you once she saw you, weirdly calm for the emotions that were pulsating inside her, and in fact, she was the one trying to calm things down between you two, but you felt dumb and were too much of a coward to just accept it, the tension in the ENTIRE house was poisoning…and when you didn’t budge with Alexia’s apologies you two just stopped talking to each other

The insecure thoughts took root in your brain, eventually branching into a full tree with anxious and insecure fruits hanging from its twigs. After all, Alexia was always right about you.

The whole week couldn’t just go on like this. You took the tiny pieces of courage left in you and took them to use them to apologise to her, you kinda treated her like shit..and all for nothing, you did hug your teammates too after all…teammates, friends, family, people just have different ways of showing it.

On the morning of what was supposed to be the third day you finally spoke to Alexia

“Ale…I- I’m just so fucking sorry, okay? That was so stupid of me, I dunno..I guess it was in the heat of the moment- the thing is I love you, I don’t want to lose you. I was an idiot, if you don’t want to then fine, don’t accept this shitty apology but I’m begging you..” by the end of your apology tears were streaming down your cheeks again, as lately you have been crying often when Alexia had no way of seeing you.

You could see the gears turning in her head, trying to decide whether she was going to accept or refuse, she narrowed her eyes at you “Yeah, you were an idiot” then she added “But I guess I’m glad you can see that now, listen I just…” the blonde sighed “Please stop pulling shit like that, sometimes you really are too sensitive” she reprimanded you softly, it felt weird listening to this harsh “truth” about yourself, even weirder knowing that those air quotes weren’t needed because it was the most pristine truth. Then Alexia looked at you with an unsure manner, “I love you too, ok?” She then said, and you nodded, after that she turned to steal a glance at the morning sky.

You sighed to yourself, appreciating the so long awaited moment of calmness.

You should remember to listen to her at all times, even if it hurt slightly.

[cosyvelvetorchid]

prompt: buck has to take a rain check on an upcoming date with tommy because dr. salazar (heart doctor) wants buck to come in for his year review check after his lightning strike injuries, buck tells tommy and tommy offers to go with buck, tommy makes discoveries of wot buck went through during his coma and recovery, buck’s ecmo scars on his neck and the healed burns on his hands are talked about, buck has to wear the holter monitor again

That was such a great idea for a prompt. Thank you ❤️

As always you can send a bucktommy prompt to my ask. If you've sent one and it hasn't been answered yet, just sit tight - just means ive not yet got the full idea of what to write yet but it definitely will get answered.

********

Organising dates with Tommy was like a military operation. They had only been on 4 so far (if you count Bucks bad coffee apology meet, which buck absolutely does). Their often conflicting shifts made it difficult to carve out time, but they both very much wanted to put the effort in to see eachother.

Buck was excited for their 5th date tomorrow. It was a breakfast date. Well, technically dinner date for Tommy as he would be coming off shift but they were both excited nonetheless. That was until Buck got a reminder email of his one year heart check up post lightening strike. His heart sank when he realised and he called Tommy.

"Hey Evan." Buck could hear the smile on his face and though his heart was a little sunk, it swelled.

"Hey Tommy. Is this a good time? You're not on a call?"

"It's fine. Just giving the chopper a clean. Patient had a nasty hemorrhage this morning. Whats up?"

"I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have raincheck our breakfast date tomorrow."

"Oh." The disappointment was clear in his tone. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I uh, totally forgot I have an appointment with Dr Salazar my heart doctor."

"Are you okay? Have you been having palpations?"

Every time I look at you, or hear your voice, or think about you.

"No, no nothing like that - I feel fine. Its just a check up. It being a year since the uh.." Buck found the words difficult to say, though wasn't sure why. Most of the time he could talk about it, but sometimes the reality of what happened really hit him and he found it difficult.

"Lightning strike." Tommy finished for him. "Well it's a perfectly reasonable reason to raincheck so don't worry."

"Thanks Tommy." Buck said, relieved.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Tommy asked. Buck didn't expect that. They hadn't been dating long - Buck wasn't even sure if he could call himself Tommy's boyfriend yet. He wanted to of course but they hadn't had that conversation yet. But he wasn't sure if he was asking because he wanted to be there or it was out of some kind of obligation.

"Thanks but it's fine. They're probably just going to scan me and tell me I'm in top shape." He forced a laugh at the end. Truthfully he was worried. He wasn't lying about feeling fine - he really did - but he thought he was fine when he had mild pain in his leg which turned out to be blood clots that almost killed him.

"Are you sure? I don't mind."

"Yeah I'm sure." He wasn't sure but didn't want to feel like a some scared kid. Tommy was a strong, stoic man - He would probably be turned off watching Buck worry.

***

Buck groaned in his sleep at the noise. It happened again and he begrudgingly opened his eyes. The third time he realised it was someone knocking on his door. He looked at his phone and cursed to himself seeing that it was just past 5am. Who the hell knocks on the door at 5am?!

He slowly and heavily made his way down the stairs to the door.

"Tommy? What are you doing here? I thought your shift didn't finish for a other two hours?" He stepped aside to let him in. "Is everything okay?"

"I got off early, and no." He stated. Nerves hit Bucks stomach.

"W-why?"

"Because, you're worried about your heart appointment and you didn't tell me." Buck opened his mouth to respond but Tommy stopped him. "And before you argue, I could tell by the tone in your voice. So, I got off work early so that we can have still have our breakfast date, and then I can go with you to your appointment. Even if you just want me to wait in the car."

Buck wanted to tell him not to come. Not because he didn't want him there - he actually did. In the short time they'd known eachother Tommy made him feel safe; like things would be okay.

It was more that he wasn't used to people showing up for him. At least when it came to love interests. He'd always felt like he was a burden. In an odd way it made him feel uncomfortable. But Tommy hadn't made him feel like it was hard to be there for him. More than once he had proven himself by showing up. Buck knew he had let go.

"I'd really like that. Thank you."

"Of course." Tommy replied, showing those beautiful crinkles around his eyes that Buck would crawl into if he could.

***

A few hours later they were sat in Dr Salazars office. Buck has initially said he'd be fine alone and Tommy could wait in the car. But changed his mind last minute when a wave of nerves made its way through him. Tommy simply took his hand and walked into the hospital with him.

They'd taken his blood, scanned his heart and asked him a thousand questions. All that he was waiting for now was the results. His leg was bouncing as he sat waiting for her to come into her office. Tommy didn't say anything, just placed a hand on his knee. Bucks leg immediately stopped dancing at the touch. The feel of the warmth of tommys hand calmed him.

"Well, Evan.." She said walking in an sitting across her desk from them. "..everything seems to look fine. Bloods, scans have all come back normal."

Buck sighed and visibly relaxed.

"I just have a couple more questions to ask." She said.

"Okay."

"How are your hands? Are you experiencing any pain or tenderness?" She asked. Buck looked at his palms. You could barely notice the stars anymore. A fact which relieved Buck.

"Uh fine, really. The skin sometimes feels a bit tight but only if I'm feeling really hot" He admitted.

"Thats to be expected. When our bodies get warmer they expand and the skin tightens. It can take a while for the lower layers of dermis to fully heel so it might feel litter tighter for a while but it's nothing to worry about."

"Great." Buck said, relieved again.

"And what about the scar on your neck from the ecmo? How is that?" Buck instinctively reached up and palmed the area. It was barely noticeable now. Just a small round patch of skin a shade or two light then his skin tone.

"It's fine. No trouble there at all."

"Good. Well, there's one more thing I need from you today." She opened her drawer and removed a device placing it on the desk. "I need you to wear the holter moniter again for 24 hours."

"Do I have to?" He complained.

"Well you can say no, but it will be against medical advice and you will feel my personal derision. I know its a pain, but it's important to really make sure your heart is doing what it should be doing."

"He'll wear it." Tommy told her without even looking at him. It triggered a strange mix of feelings within Buck. Part of him was annoyed that Tommy was making the decision for him, but he also felt a warm feeling within him at seeing Tommy care that he do the right thing for his health.

"Yeah." He said.

"Good. Now you know the rules: no using the microwave or your cell phone for the entire time you're wearing it. Okay?"

"I remember."

"Good. Then i will see you tomorrow when you bring this back."

***

Buck was quiet on the car ride back to his apartment and for a while when they went inside.

"You okay?" Tommy asked

"I'm fine."

"Evan." Tommy chastised. Someone in the apartment above dropped something and a loud bang rang out. Buck instantly jumped at the sound. His eyes met with Tommy's. His face awash with fear which quickly turned to embarrassment. Tommy immediately walked over and put his arms around him.

"You're okay. I promise." His voice was soft and calming. Buck softened into the hug and held onto Tommy tightly.

"I'm not going to push you, but when you're ready you can tell me." Buck felt Tommy's fingers delicately trace lines in the hair at the base of his head. He tried to remember if any of his exes had ever done something so simple like that to comfort him and he couldn't.

Tommy was quite tactile, Buck had noticed. A hand on his back as we walks past, a thumb circling his hand while they watch a movie, or a hand on his leg as they talk after dinner. Buck had always like that in a parnter, being that he was a big physical touch person.

"Sometimes I forget that it happened and then something happens and I'm reminded again." He loosened himself from Tommy and stepped back to lift himself onto the counter. Tommy stepped forward standing just between his knees and no closer. He wanted to give buck not just the emotional space but the physical space to talk.

"It's funny - i don't remember the getting struck or the pain. At least not now. For a while everytime I looked at my hands I would remember." His hands were palm up as he looked at them; the skin just a little pinker where the scars were. Tommy gently took Bucks hands from underneath and brought each one to his face to placed a soft kiss on each palm.

It was an act so full of delicacy and love that Buck almost burst into tears. Tommy looked back up at him with a soft sympathetic face. A face that told him it was okay to talk.

"What I really remember when I woke up was how i felt. Like, everything was different even though nothing had changed. But I had. I couldn't tell you how and I still can't. I'm just.. different. I had the weirdest dreams when I was in the coma. They felt so visceral; so real. For weeks i had this sense of dread all the time, like the other shoe was going to drop and i was going to realise that i was still in the coma and nothing was real." Tommy gently stroked Bucks legs as he continued.

"You know for a while i had this checklist I would perform every morning. First I would check the time- the dreams all happened at night so if it was morning I'd know that I was awake. Then I'd text Bobby. I'm sure it was annoying for him but he always texted me back. I just had to be sure that everything was real. I'll have moments sometimes during the day where I'll have these phantom pains in my scar on my neck and for a split second I think 'what if I'm dreaming and the pain is from the ecmo machine still attached to me?'. That's really weird I know." He looked down feeling a hint of embarrassment. Tommy probably thought he was being ridiculous.

Instead Tommy reached up, placing his hand on one side of Bucks neck and softly pressing his lips against the scar on the other side. It wasn't heated or had any sexual connotations to it - it was sweet and loving. It was Tommy telling buck that these scars are part of who is and they're beautiful. Buck closed his eyes and just breathed. He let go and allowed Tommy to just simply care for him.

"Is it okay that I did that?" Tommy asked quietly.

"Always." Buck replied looking into to Tommy's soft, warm eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" Tommy asked.

"Honestly? That I'm glad we haven't got the sex stage yet. If my heartrate now is anything to go by Dr Salazar is already going to think im having a heart attack." Tommy threw his head back and laughed heartily. Buck had seen him laugh before, even giggle, but never had he elicited a real, loud, belly laugh.

Buck felt a sense of pride at Tommy's response. And there was something else there too. Something weaving its way around under the surface of his skin. Something warm that made his stomach swoop and heart buzz. It wasn't quite near enough to lean into yet, but it was close. And getting closer every day.

[overtake]

A random scene from my Maxiel hockey au just because

“Why the fuck does this team give us perfectly identical sweatshirts? How am I ever meant to find mine?” Daniel asks, pawing through the clothes piled precariously on one of the barstools.

“It’ll probably be the one with your number on it,” Max says drily. “And teams tend to have matching clothing.”

Daniel looks up from his careful searching and tosses Max the finger. “Just for that, I’m wearing yours.”

Max’s hoodie is technically the same size as Daniel’s because Daniel prefers to size up, but it’s stretched out around the shoulders in a way Daniel’s isn’t. There’s a small stain by the left cuff whereas Daniel keeps his pristine. Most notably, there’s a 33 over the left chest instead of a single digit. It feels more lived-in and comfortable than Daniel’s, even though Daniel probably wears his jumpers twice as often as Max does.

He pops his head of the neckline and adjusts the strings. “Alright. I’m set. Let’s go.”

Max is paused with his keys in hand, mouth slightly parted and eyes burning holes into the number screenprinted on the fabric.

“You can’t get mad. I told you I was taking it,” Daniel says, even though Max doesn’t seem upset. Daniel can’t quite identify the expression crossing his face, but it’s definitely not annoyance.

“Don’t spill anything on it,” Max finally says.

Daniel catches up to him at the door and sticks the stained arm in Max’s face. “Don’t worry. You took care of that first.”

Max shoves his arm away, rolling his eyes playfully. “I’m not driving you anymore. You can hobble to the rink.”

Daniel switches positions to wrap his upper body around Max’s broad back, clasp his hands around Max’s neck, and jerk one leg up as if he’s about to jump for a piggy-back ride. Max elbows him off, giggling and pink-cheeked.

“Fine, I suppose I can give you a ride, but I’m not buying your tea,” Max warns. He undercuts his threatening words by instinctively holding Daniel’s hip, pale fingers pressed into plush fabric and waiting in case Daniel’s ankle gives out. Daniel has been successfully walking with no problems for a full week now, but Max is always hovering and holding.

“But I’m cold,” Daniel pouts, dramatically sticking out his lower lip. He’s just being annoying, but a gust of chilly air actually hits as he says it. Daniel shivers, pulling the jumper tight over his hands and moving closer to Max to try and leech some of his body heat. “I need this. Respect those of us from hot countries who played in hot states for ages.”

Max laughs, slinging an arm around Daniel’s back and tugging him into a mocking hug. “Poor Daniel. You only have to play in the NHL for the most iconic team in the craziest hockey city. Your life is very hard because it’s sometimes below zero and I don’t buy you tea.”

Daniel pulls his hands upward and dramatically rubs them together, then huddles into Max and presses his clasped hands between their chests. He doesn’t care if the hug is teasing. He’s genuinely fucking cold.

“You’re not allowed to be mean to me. I’m still injured.” He pokes out his healed ankle and lightly kicks Max’s leg with it. Max is in shorts, exposing fuzzy, muscled calves to Canadian January because he’s batshit insane.

“I’m hugging you,” Max says, rubbing his free hand up and down Daniel’s back. “I am very nice.”

Daniel presses his face into Max’s shoulder, just for a second. “Yeah. You’re not too bad, I guess.”

Shortly into their drive, Max detours, parallel parks, and comes back with a massive tea and crinkly brown bag.

“Their tea is shit and the donut is vegan,” Max says. His furrowed brow is aiming for admonishing, but the tugged edges of his mouth and dramatic tone give him away. “That’s your punishment.”

He still accepts the torn pieces of donut Daniel presses to his pink mouth and licks off the crumbs that decorate the sweet freckle on his upper lip.

“Wait. You have —” Daniel covers his thumb with the blue fabric of Max’s sweater and wipes one last sprinkle away as Max pulls into a parking space.

Max catches Daniel’s wrist before he can pull it back to his own body. He stares Daniel down with big eyes and long lashes and plucks the sprinkle where it’s caught on the ribbed cuffs. Max places one hand on Daniel’s chin and pulls down his lower lip, then places the sprinkle into Daniel’s salivating mouth.

“Don’t waste food.”

Max’s hands linger for one heated second before he drops them to turn off the ignition. Daniel tries to calm the thud of his straining heart, breathing in then out in an attempt to regain some normalcy.

He takes long enough that Max knocks on his passenger-side window, peering in and making little glasses over his eyes and waving all goofy, like nothing had just happened.

He eventually pulls open Daniel’s car door for him, gesturing out to the grey pavement. “Are you planning on showing up to practice today?” he teases.

Daniel recovers enough to slide out, though not gracefully, and heads into the rink to get chirped into oblivion over the 33 that feels throbbing and alive over his still-racing heart.

[velvateen]

pierced (zoro x reader)

zoro gives you your third ear piercings

mention of needles, no other warnings, fluff ⭐️

“I’ll only hurt if you aren’t nervous, and by the looks of you, you won’t feel a thing,” Zoro stated, muttering the last bit under his breath.

“I’m only nervous because it's you and we’re not someplace professional,” you replied.

“Don’t be such a baby, I’ve done all three of mine myself and they turned out perfectly fine.” He wet a cloth with some rubbing alcohol and pressed it to your ear, the coolness making you pull in a sharp breath.

If it was just your first or even second ear piercings, you might not have been so nervous, but the third one up was a little daunting, but you trusted Zoro, so it would probably be fine. After cleaning your ears, he handed you a pen and a hand mirror and gave you time to choose where the piercing should go.

He watched as your tongue peaked out as you focused on your ears, admiring the vision in his head of you wearing more jewelry to frame your features. You turned back to him after giving the dots you drew a once over.

“What are you smiling about,” you asked. His ears turned red as he turned away, back to where the needle and earrings sat.

“Nothing, hurry up, you’re taking forever.” You smiled and set the mirror down. He started showing you what he was gonna use. Ice, for numbing, a needle that looked way too big in your opinion, and an eraser.

“What’s the eraser for?”

“For the needle when it goes though.” He brought the stud over, handing it to you while he situated the needle and held it near your ear.

“I’m gonna count to three, and while I do that, take a really deep breath for me, okay?” His eyes met yours and you tried to slow your nervous heartbeat down. It was gonna be okay, it was Zoro after all. Without the thought of the impending piercing, the heat of his hand pressing against your cheek and his face so close to yours would’ve been distraction enough.

“Okay, ready?” he asked. You tucked your hair behind your ears and prepared for the sting. “Yeah.”

“One,” you began to breathe in as he continued,“two--”

“You jerk!” you winced as he pierced you before the count was over, handing him the stud. He quickly put it in your ear.

“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” he chuckled, handing you the other stud.

“It wasn’t but only because you caught me off guard with that ‘one, two, three’ shit.” He laughed at your mock frustration.

“At least you know I can’t pull the same stunt twice, you’d be prepared for it,” he leaned to line the needle up.

“Whatever, let’s get this one over with.”

“So bossy,” he muttered, rolling his eyes, “I’m gonna count to three again, you ready?” You nodded and took a deep breath.

“One, two,” your face contorted in anticipation, but before he reached the final count, you felt a swift kiss pressed onto the corner of your mouth. Before you could react, he pushed the needle through and tacked onto the eraser. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips as he carefully set your earring in.

“You play dirty!” A smile crossed his face as he started wiping your new piercings with a cleaner.

“I had to give you some kind of distraction, didn’t I, I bet you didn’t even feel a thing.” You smiled and picked up the mirror to admire your new set.

“It looks so good!” You were too busy admiring his handiwork to notice him digging through the supplies he brought.

“I know you’ll have to wait until it heals up,” he fished out a small box from his bag and pressed it into your palm, “but I bought these for you.” He turned away, a little embarrassed at the sentiment. You opened the box, and poured its contents into your hands. He had bought you three earrings to match his own.

“Zoro,” you sighed, “thank you.” You looked at his face, still bashfully turned away, his red ears giving him away like they always do. Bringing your hand up to cup his jaw and turn him to face you, you pushed his cheeks together.

“Now who’s being a baby?”

A/N extremely self indulgent, wrote this the day before i got my third ear piercings. those mfrs hurt so bad but it’s gonna be so worth it to match with zoro. bye! •.*

[oopwoop]

Their Reaction To You Getting/Saying You Want A Piercing

pairings: e!42! & e!1610 Miles Morales, Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhakar, Gwen Stacy, Peter B. Parker (platonic)

warning(s): swearing, unedited!

im back on my grind 💪 (sorry for not posting recently, had no motivation)

e!1610! Miles Morales

stared in surprise for a bit until he heard you call out his name. He didn’t mean to zone out and stare, or make you insecure, he was just surprised when he saw you got a piercing. you didn’t say anything about getting one or anything. he thinks you look amazing though! (he always will no matter what)

asks if he can touch it unless it’s a tongue piercing, if it’s too sensitive or sore. he understands. shouldn’t mess with it too much otherwise it won’t heal as well.

reminds you everyday to clean it with saline water. twice a day! or however much/long the piercer said.

tells you that you should get a black and red one depending on the type it is.

“woahhh..” Miles gasped quietly as he stared in awe for the next few moments, snapping it out of it when he heard his name. he felt bad when he noticed the nervous look on your face.

“is it bad? do you you not like it?” you asked sadly, upset that he may not like it. sure, you got the piercing because you wanted it but it’d still be nice to know that Miles thought it looked well.

he gave you a shocked look, shaking his head. he grabbed your hand comfortingly and kissing your cheek, careful not to touch your piercing depending on where it is.

“no, no! it looks wonderful. you look wonderful! suits you very well.” he whispered lovingly and kissing your cheek again. it’s good to know he liked it. he really does think you look amazing.

e!42! Miles Morales

did a double take. not out of disgust but more so out of surprise. usually when you get something done or are going out he gives you money, even though he knows you are fully capable he enjoys spoiling you. so it was a surprise when you came over with a brand new piercing that he didn’t know about or pay for.

tells you look good and just goes about what he was doing. doesn’t make a huge deal of it. though, a few minutes later he does ask why you didn’t say anything about it.

also reminds you to clean it, or at least s asks if you did everyday until it’s healed.

will buy you all the jewelry you want for it. will even buy a few he thinks matches his vibe, hoping you wear them. if not he’s not butt hurt or anything, though.

“looks good.” he hums out nonchalantly before returning to what he was doing beforehand. you respond with your thanks. the next few minutes are spent in a comfortable silence, the two of you enjoying each others company until Miles breaks it.

“so, why didn’ you say anythin’? i’d give you the money for it.” he questions, raising a brow as he turns to you. usually you tell him about stuff like this and he gives you money for it.

“mmm, just felt like it, y’know? wanted to treat myself for once. not that i don’t love you spoiling me but it feels nice once and a while to gift myself something.” you explain to him as he nods in understanding.

“yeah i get it.. next time ‘m payin’ though, got it?” he states firmly. you know he’s gonna find a way to pay for your next one for sure.

Pavitr Prabhakar

beyond excited when he noticed it. gasped super loudly when he saw it and rushed over to you. just like the other two, he had no idea of this happening. he also asks you a thousand questions about it.

showered you in compliments on how good you look, how it fits you perfectly, all of it. also showers you in soft kiss around your face, being really careful not to mess with the piercing as he’s worried to hurt you on accident.

he also reminds you to wash it everyday. setting reminders on his phone to text or call you. or if y’all are together he’ll help wash it if he can, being as gentle as possible. he has a bottle of saline spray at his house for whenever you’re over and need to clean it.

sends you pictures of jewelry he sees when he’s out and about, asking if you’d like it. if so he will definitely buy it for you. does not care about the price. if he doesn’t have enough now he’ll save up for it. (jewelry is expensive 😃)

“woah! you look so good! when did you get it? did it hurt?” Pavitr said happily and he rushed over to you, grabbing your cheeks softly to examine the piercing closer.

you chuckle at his antics, grabbing his wrists so you could pull his hands away to be able to speak properly. “slow your roll, Pav. i got it today and it hurt as much as i thought it would.”

“absolutely gorgeous. i knew you’d rock it, even though you never told me. why didn’t you tell me?” he continues to chatter fast, it was hard to keep up with him. he was just excited for you though. he knew you’d only get a piercing if you really wanted it.

“wanted to surprise you.” you smiled at him as he started to peck your face with a bunch of soft kisses. you didn’t think he’d be this excited over a piercing.

Gwen Stacy

was surprised when you said you wanted a piercing but was excited for you. she helps set up the appointment and everything, goes with you for comfort if needed, let’s you squeeze her hand as well.

if you let her, she’d pick out the one you get. she wouldn’t suggest one that hurts really bad though, depending on your pain tolerance.

definitely picks out the jewelry for it if you let her. it’d be a soft pink or blue fs.

so, she has her brow pierced so i feel like maybe she might get more piercings. maybe like her septum or a normal nose piercing, yeah? if it’s around the same time you got your piercing she’d set an alarm for the both of you and if you’re together at the time you’d clean it together or she’d ft you and y’all would do it on call

Incoming FaceTime Call From

gwendy ❤️

Answer Ignore

you decided to answer the call and when you did all you saw was her eyes and up until a few moments later. Her face popped into the screen, a huge smile as she noticed you answered.

“i’m assuming you already know what time it is, yeah?” she shook the can of saline in a jazz-hands gesture, chuckling as you rolled your eyes playfully.

“yeah, yeah.. just let me get to my bathroom.. you always call me when i’m in bed and comfy” you sigh, your tone whiney and exaggerated.

“oh boo-hoo.. you’ll be okay. now get your butt up and go clean your piercing. don’t want an infection, do you?” gwen raised a brow at you. her expression felt similar to a judge-y mothers.

Hobie Brown

when you said you wanted a piercing he was more than willing to do it himself, free of charge. all of his have either been done my someone he’s friends with (for free) or himself. he’s got all the supplies needed and knows how to do most piercings. you wouldn’t be the first person he’s given them to.

if you do let him do it, it’ll be the same as if you were to have gone to a trained professional. just more.. homey? sure it’s a little more risky, but think about it, it’s free of charge (it’s expensive, my septum was $100), plus it’s with someone you know and should by now trust

if you go to a professional he doesn’t really care. it’s your money you’re spending.

totally steals jewelry for you if you wanna change it out once it’s healed. helps you clean it, as well. he knows the perfect way to clean it well so it doesn’t get infected.

“d’ya want me t’ do it? cuz i can, free of charge too, luv.” hobie suggested when you said you wanted a piercing. you weren’t sure if you should take up his offer. he could tell you were hesitant about it so he continued on.

“i’ve done a good few piercings b’fore. some of my own, actually. y’ can trus’ me, promise.” that helped you feel a little better. his looked so good so that must mean he’d be able to do yours even better. especially because doing a piercing on another seems easier than doing one on yourself.

“yeah.. okay sure, i’ll let you do it. but if you fuck it up I won’t be happy..” you glared at him, letting him lead you to the living room of your place to sit and get ready.

“y’won’ hafta worry ‘bout bein’ angry, luv cuz i won’ fuck it up.” he chuckled deeply as he got the needed supplies ready and kissed your forehead.

Peter B. Parker (my first time writing him so sorry if it sucks 🫢)

was probably the most surprised of all. he doesn’t care that you got one, not at all, he’s just surprised you didn’t say anything. your like a kid to him, you tell each other almost everything.

definitely pats you on the shoulder or back and tells you that it looks good and suits you well.

randomly gifts you new jewelry for it. it’s usually stuff he thinks fits you well or one he knows you’ve been looking at. how does he get the money for it? begs MJ until she says yes. though she says yes really quickly because she loves you like a kid as well.

i feel like he can be really forgetful with some things so he’s not as consistent as the others to remind you to clean it. it’ll be more here and there that he reminds you

“when did that happen..?” he says slowly, mouth agape in surprise. “you never told me about that. we tell each every.” peter mutters with a pout, sad you didn’t tell him about this.

“oh this?” you say, pointing to the piercing, “just got it a bit ago. wanted it to be a surprise. does it look good..?”

he just chuckled and walked up to you, patting you on the back firmly. what is with dads and their firm pats? “looks great, kid. suits you very well. you think i’d rock one? i should totally get one, yeah?”

“uhm, yeah, if you want mj to leave you then you should, old man..” you joke with him and return you get a gasp from him.

“i’m not old! and she wouldn’t leave me. i’d look amazing, even better than you!”

[shinobushaori]

PRETTY DOCTOR

- kochou shinobu x gender neutral! reader

warnings: none

wordcount: 728

"Urgh..."

As your eyelids slowly regain strength to rise, the sunlight immediately ceases it and you wince, groaning afterwards when that unmistakable familiar pain overtakes your body. Tensing your muscles, you take in the wisteria aroma before blinking as you look around at your surroundings and recognize the similar rowed beds.

You breathed in a sigh of relief, eyes closing and your muscles relaxing in place. "Fuck yeah.."

Once again, you've seen the light of day and survived against the demons you've grown to loathe. You've always come to appreciate the warmth that seems to offer a bit of comfort to your ruined state. It serves as a motivation as well, that even the most disastrous evening has a mirthful morning.

It definitely doesn't make the experience less painful though but you'll take any kind of comfort at this point.

"Oh? You're finally awake?"

A soothing voice enters your ears and you take time to appreciate it. Slowly opening your eyes, the sunlight blurs your sight but you ignore it and tilt your head towards your saviour.

You give them a grateful smile, "Thank you.."

Noticing they went silent, you closed your eyes again and concentrated on your breathing. A painful process, but one worth in the end. Thankfully, you can feel your wounds covered in cooled padding that helps you further into comfort.

You sigh deeply, this is why you absolutely adore doctors.

Healers, doctors, caretakers. People who provide their own personal time to take care of other injured beings are people you will always appreciate. They heal the wounded and lead the broken and you fully believe, without these incredible human beings, the Demon Slayer Corps would be in ruins.

Old hags in wisteria houses that cater to your every need and bandage your broken bones without a second thought, a kind random bystander that offers you their house as temporary longing, hell even the kids that would sympathize with your pain and try to help you stand.

They all have touched your heart and encourage you to be a stronger person than before. So, that they could freely dedicate their time to other wounded people other than yourself and lessen the burden they're carrying.

A hand softly lands on your chest and you flinch as your eyes flutter open. Some of the curtains were somehow closed for your mercy, you suspect the mysterious figure hovering above you and your eyesight slowly recovers.

"Breathe in slowly, don't rush in or you'll only trouble yourself."

That easing voice again spoke up.

You closed your eyes and followed their direction. Their hand, notably small yet strong, kindly guiding you. The moment you take too much air in, it softly pushes your chest and you exhale in turn.

"Thank you.. Oba-san.." Your husky voice huff out.

Although, you take note that the giggling sound you receive is definitely far from the usual nagging hags. Do these angry aunts even have the soul to laugh? You appreciate them but they clearly have something against the world.

Your eyes crack open and you stiffen seeing the woman in front of you. It definitely wasn't an old lady that would glare at you for being reckless nor a wrinkled person that laughs a bit hard when they accidentally tighten your bandages too much.

No, instead it's a beautiful woman. Purple tinted eyes perfectly framed with her other delicate features. Her existing smile widened seeing you frozen and for the first time, your stomach makes leaps and plays jump rope with your intestines and insides. While your face seemingly gets caught on fire and creates havoc in your mind.

Her hand trails up and teasingly taps your cheek, "Do I look that old to you?"

Your jaw only drops in response and she, oh dear she, oh breathtaking she, giggles even more.

"Well? Does Oba-san needs to give you some painkillers?"

Oh fuck.

"Maybe Oba-san could hold my hand instead?" Your voice answers involuntarily. No one could blame how you basically short-circuited and even the beauty didn't mind your words. She seemed amused even and her arm slowly crept down, her hand, soft and smooth, takes your hand in a clasp.

She tilts her head, pink soft-looking lips stretched in such a pretty smile that your face flushed instantly.

"Oba-san will take care of you, okay? Restwell!"

A/N: I made this 10 days ago and this was supposedly wayyy longer than it should be but I think at the same time, it's better and funny this way. I might make a part two, just maybe.

[vasito-de-leche]

Do you have any specific queer headcannons of r1999 characters if so which ones and why?

I wrote a bunch of stuff for this post but then tumblr fucked me up and reloaded without saving it so here we are..... rewriting it all over again ... OAUGH. usually I default to seeing everyone as Vaguely Bisexual and Not Cis until stated otherwise, but you asked for specifics so here we go!

6 is aromantic or demiromantic.

On one hand, it's because I love projecting on my faves. On the other hand, it's because he genuinely doesn't feel like the type of person to be interested in relationships. But this isn't something that's tied to any potential disgust, repulsion or even trauma related to his Revelation and struggle against fate -- to me, 6 just doesn't feel romantic attraction. At the very least, nothing strong enough to consider pursuing. It's not in his priorities. I really dislike this specific thing that fandoms do in which every single character who is introverted, or who happens to be alone/isolated (either by chance or by choice) is secretly lonely, touch starved, pining and desperate for attention and romantic love. It feels like such a huge disrespect for their equally important platonic or familial relationships. 6 already holds a lot of love for his own community and his childhood friends, a type of affection that is shown in his subtle and unique ways. I like it when his character focuses on those aspects instead!

Mesmer Jr. is aromantic and asexual.

In her case, she's the opposite of 6. Mesmer Jr.'s trauma and OCD is much too intense for her to even consider the idea of an emotional or physical bond with anyone. She's disgusted at the idea of touching others so casually, and she's afraid at the possibility of allowing a person (someone she logically cannot have any control over) into her life because what if they throw her off her schedule? What if they mess every meticulous thing she's planned for herself and her mental stability? What if she loses her grip? Yes, it's plausible that she may find a partner who works perfectly with the way she needs things to be, and yes, you can headcanon that she heals and her OCD becomes "manageable" enough to have a stable relationship, but personally? I just like it when characters don't get to have stereotypical happy endings in which everything gets better through love and friendship and support -- like, yeah everyone loves to see their faves happy and all but eh... It's a bit of projection on my part! Some people don't get to heal and do all the things their disabilities prevented them from doing, even if we're given all this support and love. Some of us just have to find ways around these things, anything that works for us that makes our lives easier.

Sweetheart is queer but has a complex relationship with love. In a somewhat similar vein, Blonney has gone through every single letter of the LGTBQ+ community.

I tried my best to explain my thoughts on Sweetheart but at this point she deserves her own post because it's honestly a LOT, this single part was just too long so I cut it out entirely. Just trust me when I say she's queer and has a very complex relationship with love. In Blonney's case, we discussed the possibility of her being written as comphet and it got me to think a little about her. I see Blonney as the type of girl who presents as a straight bimbo, following the themes of her character and all, but who has constant crisis after crisis in the privacy of her bedroom, the only place she's allowed to be more than just a blondie. This constant journey questioning her orientations and gender happens entirely in her head and in private. I like to think that she just has these long monologues in her head. Sure, she's identified as straight her whole life, but maybe bisexual works better because there was that one girl she kept meeting under the bleachers. Oh, but maybe she's a lesbian, since all her boyfriends are just huge disappointments and none of them ever make her truly happy. Oh, but maybe that's just because she has bad taste in men, there was that one guy in class who keeps making her laugh after all. Ahh, this would be so much easier if she were a guy, her femininity is mostly performative after all. Ah, but she actually really loves pink and fashion... Nonbinary then? No, she's not the type to pick something so vague, it's one or the other. Oh, how about both? Genderfluid! Etc etc. If you ask her about how she identifies, she'll simply brush you off with a "What's it to you? That's none of your business, creep!" and move on, but this is something very personal to her. So far, she knows she likes being femme presenting and that she likes Jessica!

Eagle is a trans girl.

Have you guys seen those posts going around tumblr about how important it is that trans women exist because they fight for their own womanhood and girlhood in a world that constantly looks down upon feminine things and all women as a whole? Yeah. Yeah. Eagle being a scout that fights so hard to prove herself, the feelings of not belonging into the Boy Scouts and seeing how the Girl Scouts are created eventually, a space for her. The fact that she visits her father's grave so that he can see her grow up.

Kaalaa Baunaa, Oliver Fog, Medicine Pocket and Melania are probably bisexual, but they're super busy with work so they don't have time to address that.

Self-explanatory <3 I do like to think that Kaalaa and Medpoc are more chill about it, Kaalaa because she's a grown ass woman who is very mature, and Medpoc because they genuinely give no fucking shits about dating in general, so who cares about confirming whether they're bisexual or not. Oliver Fog is a little more flustered at the idea of exploring his orientation and whatnot, but it's tolerable. BUT MELANIA? I LOVE to think that she's FULLY aware that the MOMENT she acknowledges her bisexuality, she will have a crisis and then what will she do? She has 3 papers due next week and a heist this weekend, she can't possibly sit there wondering about liking girls! She's got things to do!

And here's the extra round of HCs that don't require that much text to explain or that lean towards being more silly!

Eternity has literally outlived the concept of gender. She/They royalty.

37 has QRPs instead. It Just Works. No one but herself and her partners understand the dynamics, though. As god intended <3

APPLe is a raging bisexual and has been spotted in many gay bars. Regulus is also bisexual.

The world would've been a better place if Bette was a butch lesbian.

Balloon Party and An-An Lee play with gender like its playdough.

Baby Blue is Not Cis and she's Not Straight either because none of that shit matters to her anymore, since she's been disconnected from reality and society for so long. She also doesn't care about labelling herself.

Diggers is trans, but no one can figure out which way exactly. It doesn't help that he refuses to clarify either. The same thing happens with John Titor, except she's very vocal about being a transwoman.

Bunny Bunny is bisexual but she hasn't realized this yet. In similar fashion, Horropedia is bisexual but he just forgets about it sometimes.

Druvis III as a trans woman goes hand in hand with Forget Me Not as a gay man. This is why they're both super divorced.

Leilani is pansexual because she prefers the colors of that specific flag over the bisexual one. Spathodea is pansexual because the personal distinction between pansexuality and bisexuality matters to her.

Tennant is bisexual because she can scam and seduce more people that way.

The Fool is nonbinary. Mf should've been born in the 2020's, I just KNOW he would've loved mirrorgender.

Zima is in the closet not out of shame but out of safety. Just in case.

Sotheby assumes that every girl in the world likes girls. So far no one has been able to prove her wrong because all she does is interact with other sapphic girls.

Pavia is nonbinary out of spite. But I also love transguy Pavia HCs so so so much, give that guy boobs, he would never get top surgery <3

Vertin is nonbinary too but she doesn't care about people knowing about it. She does, however, make the effort to be a little androgynous, as a treat for herself.

Madam Z and Katz absolutely had a Situationship going on during university. Katz was bicurious and Madam Z helped her experiment. Now the Situationship is between Madam Z and Constantine, the latter using Madam Z as a rebound after fumbling her relationship with Vertin's mother <- the machinations in my brain will astonish you.

TTT is genderfluid by virtue of being a picture on a TV, so I like to think she can just shift her appearance. In similar fashion, gender means nothing to Alien T and Voyager because they're aliens.

I specifically love the idea of all of the 1.2 gang joking about how Tooth Fairy is their token straight adult figure -- she's actually bi and asexual, but likes to keep that to herself so the kids can make their little jokes and have fun.

Enigma is gay and homophobic because his self-loathing is just that strong.

Turns out that the push Click needed to explore his own sexuality was getting killed on the battlefield, so now he's free to be gay. perhaps bicurious.

[ilovemensthings]

Lean on Me [Gally]

pairing: Gally x gn!reader

warnings: none; fluff, comfort

As Gally walked through the glade, his exhaustion was palpable. His broad shoulders slumped, and his usually stern expression had softened into a weary look. He had faced another day of challenges and danger, and all he wanted now was a moment of solace.

Noticing his state, you hurried over to him, concern etching your features. "Gally, are you okay?" you asked softly, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

He managed a tired smile, his blue eyes meeting yours. "Yeah, just... drained," he admitted, his voice a mere whisper.

Without another word, you took his hand and led him to the makeshift campsite the Gladers had created. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the Glade. You settled down on a pile of blankets, pulling Gally down beside you.

"Lean on me," you encouraged, allowing him to rest his head on your shoulder. His weight against you was comforting, and you could feel the tension slowly leaving his body.

Gally let out a heavy sigh, his breath tickling your neck. "Thanks for being here," he mumbled, his voice rumbling against your skin.

"Always," you replied, your fingers gently combing through his hair. The soothing motion seemed to relax him even more, and he closed his eyes, letting himself truly unwind for the first time in a while.

As the night enveloped the Glade, you stayed there with Gally, offering him the companionship he needed. The world outside the maze felt distant and unimportant as you held him close, providing the comfort he sought.

Gally shifted slightly, his head finding a more comfortable spot on your chest. You adjusted your position as well, making sure he was nestled against you just right. His broad frame seemed to fit perfectly, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

With one hand gently supporting his head, you allowed your other hand to run through his hair. The strands were coarse beneath your fingers, but you found the motion to be oddly soothing. Your fingertips traced patterns along his scalp, creating a sense of calm that seemed to permeate through both of you.

His breathing grew even more relaxed, and you could tell that he was fully succumbing to the comfort you were providing. It was a vulnerable moment for him, one that few were fortunate enough to witness. Yet here he was, allowing you to see this side of him, to be the one who offered solace in his times of need.

The soft rustling of leaves in the Glade's gentle breeze created a soothing background sound. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your quiet haven. And as your fingers continued their gentle exploration of his hair, you couldn't help but appreciate the intimacy of the moment, the unspoken bond that had formed between you and Gally.

In that tranquil space, the line between friend and something more blurred. It wasn't just about finding comfort; it was about connecting on a deeper level, understanding each other's vulnerabilities, and offering a safe space to heal. As the night wore on, you remained there, your heartbeats synchronized, a silent promise of support and understanding shared between you and the exhausted Glader lying against you.

In the silence, you could feel the rhythm of his breathing slowly steady, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. And as he drifted off into sleep, you couldn't help but smile, grateful to be the one he turned to in his moments of vulnerability.

[lolathestoryteller]

kisses and quarrels (April 5th prompt; Laugh) @jilymicrofics

I’m back with another everybody lives au drabble (which kinda ended up being a bit longer than intended); Jily, little Harry & uncle Padfoot! read below :)

„We‘re heading out!“ Lily calls out from the entrance hall.

There’s cluttering coming from the kitchen, before James and Sirius step out into the hallway, both their faces smudged with flour.

“Have fun— wow, Harry! Mate you…look like a puffskein.” Sirius cackles, before looking at Lily. “How many layers‘s he wearing?”

“It’s cold out, alright? I’d like for my son not to turn into an ice cube.”

“Yeah,” Sirius chuckles. “He definitely won’t freeze…might float away though, won’t you? Just like a ballon!”

Harry, who’s been busy walking up to his Dad, giggles happily at his godfather’s funny face.

“Hilarious.” Lily says dryly.

Sirius‘ smile turns into a smirk at once, making her instantly regret her choice of words. “It’s Sirius, actually.” he states smugly, before he and James dissolve into laughter.

Lily tries her very best not to smile as she strides over to collect Harry from James’s arms. “Sometimes I really think I should question my choices,” she says teasingly, glancing up at James. “Marrying such a jester.”

“Oi!” James complains, before leaning closer to her face. “You love this jester.” he smiles, and Lily, despite her efforts, blushes. “Yeah…” she replies softly. “I’m afraid I do.”

She leans closer, until her lips brush his, closing her eyes as they share a gentle kiss.

Sirius’ groan makes them part after only a moment though, and both of them chuckle as they notice his overly dramatic frown.

“Ugh,” he whines. “Please, my eyes!“

“Sod off, Padfoot.” James laughs, bumping his friends’ shoulder, before kissing Lily again — loudly this time, and with way too much of a grin on his face.

Lily rolls her eyes, but all too gladly allows for Sirius to dramatically gag as she kisses him back — that is until they’re, once again, interrupted, this time by a small pair of hands, pushing their faces apart.

“No.“ Harry protests, with an expression that so perfectly and very unfortunately mimics that of his godfather. “Gwoss.”

Sirius barks a laugh, one that only increases as he spots James‘ dumbfounded expression.

“Did our two year old just say we’re gross?”

“Sorry mate, you’re officially embarrassing your kid. The pleasures of parenthood, right?” Sirius jokes, slapping James on the back.

Lily sighs, hiding her amusement behind a raised eyebrow. “He’s not embarrassed,” she says as she adjusts a squirmy Harry on her hip. “Right Harry? You aren’t embarrassed of us?” she asks sweetly, nuzzling his cheek. “Maybe a little of Dada…”

“Lily!” James cries dramatically. “You’re supposed to be on my side here!”

“Of course I am, dear,“ she replies with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s just fun to tease you.”

“Yeah, yeah…” James rolls his eyes, though with a warm smile on his lips. “Go on now, we’ll have dinner ready when you come back, I hope.”

Lily is doubtful they would, at least not without magical help and some healing charms. “Just promise me you won’t blow up our kitchen again.” she replies pointedly.

“I will make no such promises.” Sirius replies cheekily.

“We’ll manage,” James says genuinely. “Promise.“

Lily smiles, before turning her attention back to the toddler currently wiggling about in her arms. “Yes, yes, I know,” she says as she bends down to let Harry walk by himself. “You wanna go now, don’t you?”

She waves at the boys once more before taking Harry’s little hand into hers. „Harry, say bye bye to Daddy and Sirius.“

Harry nods excitedly, raising a little hand to wave at the men. „Bye bye!“

„Have fun with Mummy, Snitch!“ James waves back.

„And don’t float away!“ comes Sirius‘ reply, earning another giggle from the toddler.

Lily can only roll her eyes as she guides Harry outside. „Your uncle Padfoot is a bit silly sometimes, hm?“

„Funny!“ Harry replies happily, as if trying to correct her.

Oh dear, Lily thinks, glancing at her son with a soft smile on her lips, he’s the son of a Marauder alright.

[peachycrisis]

Human Again

Chapter 5

A/N: I was asked if art could be made of this story, and the answer is of course! Just tag me lol, thank you all for the support <3

—————

The Cat, Spider, Fallen Angel, Princess, and Radio Demon- turned human sat in silence within the midsts of Alastors room. Alastor sat on the bed, dumbfounded by what just happened. I am the radio demon, he thought to himself. There is no way I just made a deal with the Princess of hell. He ran a hand through his curly locks before he felt a pinch in his chest.

Fuck, he thought to himself, leaning over in pain, clutching his chest as some sort of support and stability. The 4 demons looked his way, concern plastered all over their faces. Well what was he going to do about it now? He was injured, and he was human, and he was bound to Charlie Morningstar- what was there for him to do but sit and pray that he morphs back into his old self soon.

“Al, you gotta be careful,” Charlie states, walking over to where the brown eyed man is sitting. “You’re not a demon anymore, it’s gonna take more time to heal. You have to rest.”

“yeah, yeah- I kn-“ Alastor tried to get up, but felt the chain around his neck tighten, making his breath hitch.

“Rest.”

“Okay, fine.” The man obeyed, throwing his hands up in surrender- taking a seat back on the bed. He brought his hands up to his neck as if the force had caused him to choke. Everyone watched in shock as the mans smile began to falter, before placing itself back on his sweaty face. They noticed the tear stains that dragged down his face, dried up- but still there.

What the hell happened?

I need to get out, Alastor thought to himself. He needs to get to his radio tower. His radio tower is safe, and he guesses that even Charlie Morningstar is …relatively safe. But he doesn’t want to be bombarded with questions about his change in appearance, or god forbid his lack of powers.

And if in all holy hell if some delinquent decides to mention his scrawny-

“So…” Angel starts, “this has been a very interesting day- huh Smiles?”

“Very much so, Angel Dust.” Alastor replied, pulling himself out of deep thought- rolling his eyes. His hands stay on and massage on his neck wide eyed at the fact that Charlie had, and was capable of using such power.

“So do you still have your powers?”

“I don’t know, Angel Dust.”

“Are you like… fully human now?”

“Seems so, Angel Dust.” Alastors grin turned into a scowl.

“Can I see your-“

“OKAYYYY-“ Vaggie interrupts, sighing and bringing her hand up to her forehead, massaging her temples, noticing Alastor become increasingly uncomfortable.

Human Alastor seemed to be way more predictable. Maybe even more emotional- which was weird to think about considering how cold hearted he had seemed to be.

“Boss, what the fuck?” Husk cried out, walking closer to the bed- examining every inch of the overlords new body. He still felt the chains around his neck, so he obviously still had some sort of power- or maybe it was similar to how humans sell their souls to the devil? He had no fucking clue.

“Yeah Smiles, you were an injured human in the midst of hell for three days, your vulnerable state could have gotten you killed.” Angel crossed both sets of his arms. His brows furrowed.

“I can assure you both, I am perfectly fine. As soon as I get back to normal I will be ruling my territory in no time.” Alastor smile returned to its normal sharp toothy grin, yellow sharp teeth replaced with white polished ones. It looked so wrong- seeing the radio demon look so… clean?

“Yeah Yeah, sure you will.” Vaggie intruded. “Listen, it’s not safe out there- I’m assuming that’s why you and… Charlie… made that deal.” Vaggie walked closer to the bed, to stand next to Husk. “So we will be watching over you for the time being, making sure no one tries to do any… funny business.”

“Such as the Vees?” Husk asked.

“Exactly. Vox has already broadcasted the fight all over the news-”

“He what?” Alastor looked up, his eyes staring daggers into Vaggie.

Vox did… what? How many people knew? … who knew. Is this why Charlie wanted to own his soul? To protect him from… him.

Alastor sighed, not listening anymore- noticeably pissed off at the fact that he most likely needed, and would be… forced… to accept this help. Especially if he wanted to hide himself from… unwanted interactions.

“Well what are we gonna do? Keep him indoors like a caged dog?” Angel added, finding his way next to Alastor on the bed- who seemed to be deep in thought.

He examined the overlord. His brown hair was so bouncy, each curl so perfect and defined. His face was tan and seemingly soft with blushed cheeks and little freckles… Alastor stared forward at the wall, seeming disassociated- staring into nothingness- but maintaining a small, quivering smirk. He looked at the man’s pink lips, glossy from sweat and possibly tears from before. The man’s white dress shirt was 3/4 of the way buttoned, showing a little bit of his skin underneath. The shirt was a little see through, so he was able to see the bandages underneath. He looked so normal. So… enticing. So-

No he can’t. This is the Radio Demon, having thoughts like that would be absolutely foolish.

He was deep in his thoughts until he heard the sounds of deep breathing from the man, taking him away from his thoughts and onto the face of the radio host- he seemed to be deep in thought, but whatever he was thinking about seemed to not be very great by the way that his brows furrowed, and how his smirk tensed- as if it was ready to fall any moment. The man’s eyes seemed glossy.

Well, this is new.

“Smiles, Hey Smiles- you okay?” Angel asked, inching his way closer to the man. He knew that Alastor didn’t like to be touched, but he took it upon himself to take a leap of faith and place his hand on the man’s shoulder. The man was sweating, and with the sudden contact his breath hitched.

“Alastor?”

If he was still a demon, there would be radio dials in the man’s eyes, but when his eyes met the eyes of Angels, all Angel saw was big, brown eyes staring back at him. Angry, Scared, Weak.

The man’s smile trembled, then fell.

This whole scene looked wrong.

He took his eyes off of Alastor to see if anyone else was paying attention, if anyone else had seen what he had just witnessed, but they were too busy trying to figure out what to do with the former Radio Demon. Alastor looked like he was about to lose it.

“What’s going on Al?” Angel asked softly.

Alastor looked away, tightening his fists until they turned red. He looked like he was about to cry. He looked like he was going to either start puking, or hyperventilating- and Angel did not know which one it would be.

“I need my powers… I need something… I can’t… I need to get the fuck out of here.” The man said quietly- his voice breaking. The spider knew that if the man did have his powers, he would be ripping the room apart right now.

“Do you want me to take you to your new tower?”

Alastor hesitated for a moment, before responding- staring into angels eyes as a noticeably unwanted tear rolled down his cheek.

“If that’s okay dear, yes.”

[slytherinboysappreciation]

Moonlight - T. R. x werewolf fem!reader

A/N: this is the fifth part of this series. It’s mostly unedited so please be nice 💛 This chapter may or may not have made me cry while writing it. No use of Y/N. Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated 🥰

Series Masterlist

CW: Illness, yelling, some swearing, Mattheo being a dick (sorry but he protects his brother), crying, descriptions of heartache and headaches

851 words

You wake up sick. Fever, chills, the whole nine yards. You have no idea why; you were perfectly healthy yesterday. All you’d eaten after your study session was dinner and a couple of sweets before bed.

Your roommate insists you go to the Hospital Wing. Again and again, until you finally agree. You’re too shaky and sweaty to properly argue.

Before you go, you make her promise to find Tom and tell him that you’re sick. Your chest prickles strangely at the thought of standing him up.

Your roommate agrees quickly, sending you on your way with barely another word.

Once you reach the Hospital Wing, Madame Pomfrey takes your temperature and immediately orders you to rest.

You fall asleep in one of the hospital beds, relieved that at least Tom won’t wonder where you are.

Or so you think.

Your eyes snap open, your skin prickling uncomfortably. Someone’s looking at you. Staring at you.

You roll over, rubbing at your eyes. Your whole body feels flushed and weak. It takes you a moment to get your bearings.

Next to your bed, giving you the most vicious glare you’ve ever seen, is Mattheo Riddle. Tom’s younger brother.

You sit up groggily, your head pounding. “Hi…” You say weakly.

Mattheo’s glare intensifies. He’s clearly here for healing himself, judging by the bandages on his knuckles and the bruises on his face.

“You’re a fucking bitch, you know that?” Mattheo spits at you.

You flinch back, startled and confused. “What?”

“I get that the two of you have a weird love-hate relationship going on,” he scowls. “But what you did today was just fucking cruel.”

Your head pounds. Your chest is starting to hurt. “What— what do you mean?”

Mattheo glowers at you, his fists clenching and unclenching. Normally you wouldn’t be intimidated, but in your weakened state you find yourself shifting away from him.

“Don’t try to play dumb!” He scoffs. “You know full well what you did!”

Your chest really hurts. You inwardly beg that he’s not saying what you think he is.

“Act—” You say weakly— “as if I’ve been in the hospital wing all day and have no idea what’s going on.”

Mattheo’s glare flickers for a moment, before returning full-force.

“Your. Date.” He grinds out. “With my brother.”

Your stomach drops. Oh Merlin. Oh no.

Your voice comes out shaky. “She forgot to tell him… didn’t she…?”

He doesn’t even bother to ask who. “Yeah. He was waiting for hours.”

You feel like crying. Your chest hurts so bad it’s hard to breathe.

“Oh,” you whisper out.

“Oh?! Oh?! You stood my brother up and all you have to say is Oh?!”

He starts to rant about how fucked up that is, but you don’t hear a word. You stare down at the blanket covering your lap.

Tears prick at your eyes. You try your best to blink them back, but they keep coming. Right in the middle of his rant, you burst into tears.

“Oh, don’t even start with the tears,” He scoffs, glaring at you.

You sob, burying your face in your hands. Your head hurts. Your body aches. You’re tired. And you stood Tom up.

Mattheo continues on, uncaring. “I don’t even get what my brother sees in you, you— you insufferable—”

“Mr Riddle!” A sharp voice rings out. “What are you doing? You were discharged half an hour ago. Why are you disturbing my other patients?”

You hadn’t even noticed Madame Pomfrey arriving. She’s like a guardian angel to you right now.

Mattheo immediately starts to protest. “But she stood my brother up! I was just—“

“My patient,” Madame Pomfrey interrupts icily, “has been sick all day. So unless you are about to apologize and offer your well wishes, I advise you leave.”

He opens and closes his mouth a few times. Finally, with a vicious glare your way, he sulks off.

You look at Madame Pomfrey and sob. She comes to the side of your bed and pats your head comfortingly. “There, there, now. He’s just a boy. If he truly cares about you, he’ll come around. I’m sure you did what you could to let him know.”

“But I stood him up,” you whisper through the tears.

“Did you send someone to tell him?” She asks, expression tight.

You nod, sniffling. “My roommate. She was supposed to find him and tell him I was sick.”

She pats your head again. “There must be a reason why she didn’t. Do you have any idea why she wouldn’t have followed through?”

You shake your head. The crying has only worsened your headache. It pounds though your skull as you wipe at your eyes. “I- I don’t know… She’s normally reliable…”

Thankfully, Madame Pomfrey seems to pick up on your pain. With one last gentle pat to your head, she bustles off to grab you some pain medicine.

You curl up in your bed and pull the covers over your head. Crying has left you empty, drained. Your headache makes it hard to think.

You close your eyes and wait for Madame Pomfrey to return.

[zarvasace]

So I know you stated you weren't going to share the writing for that darks verse au, but would you be willing to give a synopsis? (Perfectly fine either way, just have a special place in my heart where I cherish and LoZ darks verse style aus)

Was this more of 'they're all evil and the Links defeat them' or 'they all become some degree of friends in the end' kind of fic?

Yeah I can share a synopsis of what I had and what I planned! Part of why I dropped the project is that I hadn't decided whether to make the characters sympathetic or not, either, because they weren't meant to be, but..... I got, and am still, attached. XD I kind of want the darks to get little redemption arcs! Or at least not killed. Their version of happy endings maybe.

Anyway, of the two fics, one had Four's Shadow as immediately a good guy, and the other had his motives a little dubious at first. The following is the latter:

A portal jump dumps the entire Chain into Warriors's Hyrule, where they're ambushed by people with reddened eyes and little to no pain response. They quickly realize that these are civilians being possessed or something, and struggle in the fight to try to not hurt them. Due to portal shenanigans, Four is out of commission, and during the fight, he and Hyrule are picked up and kidnapped.

The two of them aren't given any explanations, just taken to a tunnel system and locked up in a dark cellar. They're left alone until one of the possessed civilians comes in to give them some food and water. Four gets a weird feeling about it. Then he and Hyrule officially meet the first dark: evil Hyrule, who proceeds to use weakened versions of Hyrule's spells to torment him, but doesnt touch Four.

After a while of this, one of the possessed people enters with a bit more animation than usual, and has a conversation with Four that leaves him moderately sure that Shadow is controlling these civilians somehow, and remembers him, but he isn't exactly sure that they're on the same side.

At some point, a new Dark (evil Sky) enters the picture, coming in to unlock Hyrule and take him just outside the cellar door. He heals someone out there, a little more than they wanted him to, and then Sky's dragged in. He was captured too, but on purpose, with garlic in his pocket. The Chain has been having a hard time finding out how to get into the tunnels, and this is their plan: get someone else captured and follow his scent.

Meanwhile, Shadow shows his hand and gives Four his sword back, so he splits and carries out a distraction plan as the Chain fights through monsters (Shadow is in fact controlling people but he keeps them away from the fight.) Some things go wrong, some things go right, Blue breaks his thumb to get out of shackles, Red goes tiny and drops pots on evil Sky's head, and eventually the two darks are brutally murdered and the three/six/seven heroes rescued.

Cue a bit of distrust of Shadow and the rumbling of a new plan: there are other darks out there in the dark world, waiting for their chance to come into the light and cause problems.

Dun dun dunnnnnnn

More installments would give them time to run into all the other darks, deal with some trials on Shadow's part, etc.

I have been spending some time doodling these darks and will write up a post later tonight (probably) about who they are and what decisions I made. :) I've changed some of the lore since this story, you'll probably notice it in Shadow the most.

[blazerwyvernmaster]

So uhh

I like In Stars and Time. You should play it if you haven't already. It's extremely good. And I will be subtly spoiling a lot of it during this analysis.

Recently I have thought of thr trend if assigning tarot cards to characters in media, or my on characters. So I thought...what if I did that to ISAT?

...so yeah. I'll be doing that. Please tell me if I mess it up, or give me your opinions.

Again, spoilers under the cut.

Siffrin(Fool of Hanged Man)

Fool: The Fool is generally seen as the start of a journey. Even though he is at the end, the time loops and the fact that they have a lot of things to worry about/trauma means that they have a long journey ahead of them.

Hanged Man: A reversed Hanged Man, to be precise. Siffrin is INTENSLY afraid of change. To be more specific, he's stuck in this time lopp because he doesn't want to forget or leave his friends behind. His family behind, his country, his memory. The hanged man is about sacrifice and moving forward, and they do NOT want to do either. But they must.

I would also like to add that they may also be linked to The Devil card. Mostly because it's about desire and stuff and Siffrin desires amny things and can do a lot of selfish and cruel things to his family members.

Mirabelle:Lovers or Chariot.

Lovers:Mirabelle is aroace and perfectly fine with that. It’s a shame that she lives in a society where being perfectly fine with staying stagnant forever is discouraged.

Mirabelle is very religious. She believes strongly in the word of Change. So strongly that she is willing to ignore her feelings of being happy with who she is. She loves expressing platonic and familial love, but...romance and sex ain't it.

I chose the Lovers because it is about choice. Crossroads in one's life, that decide your fate. She was about to make the wrong one, the one that would make her miserable. Luckily, she didn't.

Chariot: Mirabelle may not be the Fool, but the thing that helps the fool move forward is a trusty chariot. From the beginning she's been trying to move forward and save Vaugarde from the King, and especially in the clocktower and higher levels of the house, she is determined to bring her home to its regular state.

If she doesn't, she will let everyone she cares about down. Also, again, she loves in a society where she feels she has to change, even if it means being in a romantic/sexual relationship and hating it. It's all for change, it's all for moving forward.

Isabeau: Strength.

Before the story, Isabeau may have been a reversed strength Arcana. Or at least that's how would see it. He was weak, and had low self-esteem and self-worth. And he hated it. He hated it so much that he became...well,*he*.

While he doesn't necessarily appreciate being treated as an idiot now, he seems happy to be a stronger, more confident, and upright version of himself, both inside and our. Though...judging by the fact that Siffrin's comments got to him during their uhh..darker moments, there may still be some doubts left in him.

(Sidenote I think Isabeau may be my favorite character besides Sif and Loop)

Boniface: Sun and Magician

Sun: Bonnie is a ray of positive energy wrapped in a small little crab with a potty mouth and I love them for it. And so does the rest of the party. They support the others with their cooking and miniscule damage. And it's good.

The rest of the saviors would do anything to keep that ray of positivity alive. Even if it meant they would die in the process.

Its no wonder that when they die to the king in the end of Act 3...Siffrin considers that the end.

Magician:This is mostly coming from their hangout quest. Bonnie can heal and cook, but they can also fight...barely. The fact that they are technically the only other party member who can use rock attacks at base(without using a spell like Odile or Sif) shows that they have some potential. And they want to use and grow that potential to go on kore adventures and help their friends.

Odile: Hermit

Odile, while serving as the party's mature voice of reason, and probably fitting for roles like The Empress or Hierophant, I personally see her as a Hermit because of how isolated her story is.

The only one who ever knows what she's doing with her research is Siffrin, and only if/when you do her quest. Every other time, she seems to be isolated and actively hiding it. Its not that she doesn't rely on her friends,but...she's simply doing this alone.

It's a very personal journey for her about being more connected to your heritage and reflecting on yourself.

To be honest, Hermit works REALLY well for Siffrin, too.

[breannasfluff]

Ok since you posted wing whump prompts

How does each of the Chain react to be being grounded? Which ones would stretch the definition of "ok to fly"?

Ohohohoh buckle up, because this question hit all the creative buttons!

Time – Swallow Tailed Kite

The worry gets turned up to 150%. If Time is grounded it means he can’t keep an eye out for the whole flock. Half the fight of getting Time to heal is to keep him from working himself into a panic. He’s the glue that holds them all together so the group dotes on him if he’s hurt. They also put up with a lot of cuddle piles because he’s happiest in the middle of one. The social birds don’t mind, but it goes against the instincts of the loners.

Twilight – Harris’s Hawk

He’s pretty average, if only because Time will back up any orders from Hyrule on healing. As Twilight views Time as above him in dominance, he’ll put up with it. If someone else is hurt he’ll share food to make them feel better. Wild automatically puts some aside for Twilight if someone else is hurt. When Twilight is hurt, Wild give him extra food. Four will gift one of his precious bugs to Twilight. The poor rancher accepts, but he really doesn’t want to eat it.

Four – European Bee-eater

He’s going to go stir crazy, and then he’s going to keep going. Four is energetic, talkative, and a long-distance flier. Combine all that into a package that needs to rest on the ground and…yeah, it’s not going to be pretty. The group all take turns trying to keep him distracted in some way. He’s constantly getting up and wandering away from where he’s supposed to stay. He will lie to Hyrule with a straight face that his wing is perfectly fine, no matter what state it’s actually in. Time has seriously considered tying him to a tree at one point.

Legend – Flame Bowerbird

He doesn’t mind. He loves flying; they all do, but he’s not a migratory bird at all. He’s gone on a lot of journeys, but at his heart he’d be happy tending apple trees and settling in one spot. That said, Legend has an image to keep up so he’d complain just for the sake of it.

Hyrule – Brown Thrasher

As the healer of the group, he doesn’t get the luxury of acting out like the others. He knows how important it is to heal and nags at the others about it. He’s probably closer to Wind, but without the sunny disposition. Legend, and later Wild, preen his wings a lot when he’s grounded to make him feel better. He’ll stick to his trio a lot more than usual and is quieter than normal. If he says he’s good to fly, the group believes him.

Sky – Magnificent Frigatebird

He’ll wait out a major injury, but he’s going to be in the air before anyone wants him to. Sky’s wings are big and awkward on the ground. He’s got to hold them up if he wants to walk long distances and he’s going to be royally pissed at the end of it. While he tries not to take his temper out on the flock, some of those solitary tendencies come through and he can snappy or start flying before he should. Good luck getting him to land again.

Wind – Tropicbird

He’s pretty good-natured about it. He’ll try to weasel and bribe his way into the air sooner, but he isn’t going to outright disobey an order to stay grounded. Wind will stretch the definition of “grounded” to do short glides and hop up and down from things. Probably the most happy-go-lucky when injured. If the others are hurt, he’s good at lightening the mood.

Warriors – Ferruginous Hawk

Grouchy, but he understands the importance of waiting to heal up before fighting further. Surprisingly, he gets a little clingy with Time when he’s stuck on the ground for a long time. Everyone else better stay the heck out of his way, though. While some of them might screech and snap at each other for show, Warriors will back it up with action. Anytime he's hurt, the group immediately dump him on Time. Secretly, Time doesn’t mind because Warriors tends to stick to the outskirts unless he’s battle planning for the Chain.

Wild – Taiwan Blue Magpie

Given his background (which will be in a future story) Wild and wing injuries do NOT go well together. While Four drives the flock up the wall, at least he’s bearable to a degree. Wild turns into a screeching mess and good luck touching his wings to help. He’s driven Hyrule to tears, then felt guilty, and the whole situation amps up higher. He’s got a bad habit of injuring himself further trying to escape the flock. It usually culminates in a spectacular meltdown and more than one of the boys needing to restrain him so Hyrule can check the injury. This doesn’t go over well with anyone. Wild feels awful about it when he’s more put together, but they all know it’s going to happen again. It’s going to take a long time to build enough trust to get past some of those instinct responses.