#anyway these tags are getting a little long so maybe that's enough venting for today | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

plumroseiswriting · 2 years

Text

A Very Bad No Good Evening

Roman Klymenko x Angelique “Angel” Smith belong to @a-literal-no-name *posted with permission*

Please heed all trigger warnings TW: Memory issues, ED, body checking, self deprecation, anxiety, time blindness, minor meltdown, food talk

SFW Tags: Hurt/Comfort, situationship, angst, fluff, venting

A/N: let me know if I need to add tags/TW! This one is the Angel centric companion of the last one! I may have projected a bit. Don't judge me. I finished this at 5am and did a little more with this in general cause I'm not as nervous so hopefully its okay.

It is irritating when you are in the middle of a thought and it just vanishes.

Angel stood in the middle of the room. She was in there for something. She had be in there for something. Her mind felt like a dry erase board that'd been wiped clean while you were still writing notes.

She turned back to go back to her room. She was still in her pajamas, it was 4:30 in the afternoon. She was supposed to change hours ago but she got stuck doom scrolling in her bed again. It made her feel lazy, she had a to do list and everything and she hadn't done any of it.

You've always been lazy though.

Her room was surprisingly clean, there was trash and some clothes on the floor but she just needed to grab all the dishes and-

Wait where was her drink? She had one didn't she? When did she put it down? It wasn't on her little desk or her dresser or on any of the shelves.

She left the room again.

Not in the bathroom, but she should pick up the socks before she forgets or they'll be there for the next week. Her laundry basket was almost full, she would have to try and get them washed tomorrow or she would be out of clothes too.

What was she-? Oh her drink.

The kitchen was clean aside from the bowls in the sink. She hated doing the dishes, the soap made her hands crack but the feeling of those latex gloves made her skin crawl. She had to wash them though, or they would start to smell bad. She turned on the faucet, waited for the water to get hot.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

R: Did you eat?

Always checking in on her. She paused, playing with her lip. She hadn't eaten, she wasn't hungry. Well no, she was hungry but she'd forgotten until now and really didn't feel like it. That would not be a good excuse.

A: Of course I did! 🥰😋

R: When? What was it?

Angel looked at the time, how was it almost 6 already? She hadn't done anything yet today.

This is why you're always in a rush

A: I ate at 5 and I had 🍑, and toast with honey. Sounds good doesn't it? Are you jealous? 😏Maybe I'll let you have some later...😉😉😘

She sighed loudly. She ate all the fruit he'd cut up for her already, what, yesterday? The day before? Anyway it had already been eaten, so if she did eat later it would have to be something else and she didn't want to put in that effort. She needed to. She didn't want to.

R: That's not enough food, Angel.

She rolled her eyes. She was getting frustrated.

A: 🙄😑I'll have a snack later Romi.

Angel tossed her phone on the chair and ignored it, rubbing her face until it almost hurt. She was supposed to be skinny and pretty and petite. That's the image she wanted, an image that fit. Skipping sometimes because she didn't feel like eating would be fine. Why force it anyway, that just gave her a stomach ache. She'd eat tomorrow. Maybe. Thinking about it put a knot in her chest.

If she didn't finish what she was doing and ate instead, she wouldn't finish anything at all.

The sound of the faucet suddenly came back to her, spinning around quickly to turn it off before the sink overflowed. Steam rose into the air and she knew she couldn't stick her hands in that yet. She sighed, she'd have to wait for it to cool off.

If you remember... or have the energy to do it later...

She scratched at her head, her eyes, her neck, with her long nails. It felt good, satisfying, like when someone washes your hair except you know exactly where to scratch.

Angel went back to her room again, she felt like she was walking in circles. She was getting annoyed with herself, that irritating confusion building in her head, it spun right behind her eyes. Not dizzy but cloudy and confused and she hated it. She had to be able to get at least something done before midnight. Just one thing. This time she wouldn't leave the room until she got something done. She wouldn't.

She looked up at the dress hanging on her door. It wasn't what she usually wore really, but she'd found it at a thrift store and it was just so pretty she had to get it. It was white, with lace detailing over the bust and long sheer fluffy sleeves. It would go perfectly with her heals and her pink leather vest and she knew Roman would love feeling the fabric. She hadn't gotten to wear it yet. It was too small, but she could get herself to fit in it if she tried hard enough.

Yeah, skipping a couple meals wouldn't hurt. This is fine for now.

She gazed around the room again, it was maybe messier than she'd thought earlier but it was still manageable. She grabbed the trash bag she'd started the day before and began shoving all the miscellaneous trash in it. It was mostly paper and drink cups. Getting most of that didn't take long.

You're still in your pajamas

Angel groaned, putting the bag down and pulling out one of the big black tshirts she'd stolen from Roman. It was dirty, she probably should wash it... she pulled off the pajama shirt and slipped the t on, it made her feel tiny, covering her up like a tint. She smiled, shoving the collar of it up under her nose and inhaling deeply. It eased her a little. She wasn't going to wash it anytime soon. She pulled on some shorts and quickly got back to cleaning.

She could feel her energy leaving. Her stomach started to hurt. That nagging feeling that she was going too slow, that she was running out of time, it wasn't helping the spinning in her eyes.

She pulled the hoody off her mirror and paused. She stared at herself a moment. The shirt definitely looked like a tent, her collar bones poking out sharply, her knees were sticking out from the bottom of the shirt. They looked bony. Her thighs weren't small, but her knees looked weird. She grabbed the sides of the shirt, pulling them tightly behind her so she could see her figure. Her boobs were too small, her thighs were big but her hips weren't, her shoulders were too wide and she didn't have a butt.

Eating could make you're boobs bigger. Might even grow as ass. It'll make you bigger.

She closed her eyes tight, letting go of the shirt and shaking her head. She didn't have time for this she needed to clean. She turned around too quickly, knocking the trash bag over and spilling most of the content right back onto the floor.

Her eyes stung.

The nagging, the spinning, her stomach hurt, she was running out of time.

What time? What deadline do you have? What are you forgetting?

Angel kicked the bag as hard as she could, the trash inside flying across the room.

"Why can't I EVER get ANYTHING DONE!?" Tears started to tip over her eyelashes. "Stupid, this is so fucking stupid," she hissed. "I can't ever get anything right, nothi- I FORGOT THE FUCKING DISHES"

Angel threw her bedroom door open, slamming it into the wall, she was crying now, frustrated and angry. She just wanted to get ONE thing finished, ONE, and she couldn't.

She marched back to the kitchen and stood staring at the dishes.

She didn't want to do them.

She needed to do them. It wouldn't take long, the water wasn't that hot and she had to get something finished.

...she didn't want to do them.

She was breathing a little too hard, her stomach twisting painfully, the confused spinning in her head, the burning in her eyes, it was overwhelming. The image of herself in the mirror, disappointed and unhappy, the dress she still couldn't wear, the fact she couldn't for the life of her remember whatever was nagging her. She was hungry, she didn't want to make food, why did wanting to make it matter? She NEEDED to make it but that made her want to do it less.

She sat down. In the middle of the cold kitchen floor, she just sat down and cried, rubbing her face, scratching her head, she wanted to throw her glasses across the apartment, the energy stuck in her limbs. She just sat there. Frustrated, thinking too much and angry about her inability to think at the same time.

What time was it?

Sniffling she looked around the room. Where had she put her phone? She'd tossed it on the couch. Very slowly Angel stood up. Her arms and legs heavy and dragging as she walked.

Her phone was face down on the cushion. She picked it up and plopped down, grabbing the fluffy pink pillow and curling up in herself. The screen was too bright for a second, it stung.

R: I'm bringing icecream.

Angel frowned, right now? She looked at the time, it was 9 o'clock. She opened the phone going to the text.

R: Don’t roll your eyes at me. You need more than a snack Angel, at least eat some cereal for fucks sake.

R: Don't ignore me.

R: Angel.

R: Fine. I'm coming when I finish working.

R: I'm bringing icecream.

She sniffed, the last message came in half an hour ago. She looked at her kitchen. She should at least try to finish them before he got there. He'd lecture her she was sure of it, with his arms all crossed and his face squished and while most of the time it was cute she really wasn't in the mood.

She didn't move. She got on her socials and started scrolling. She didn't move when she heard someone walking down the hall, she didn't move when she heard the key in the door, she didn't move when Roman walked in. She just laid there, frustrated because she just couldn't move.

He looked at her. She could feel him looking at her. He was holding a plastic bag in one hand and his keys in the other. He closed the door and sighed.

"What's wrong Angel?"

Angel sniffed, she was still crying. He was waiting for an answer. "I can't do the dishes."

He raised a brow, "You can't do the dishes?"

"No Romi I can't, I tried and I can't okay? Why are you even here." She shoved her head into the pillow

He paused for a minute. "Okay." There was stifled irritation in that word. His heavy steps got closer, she could feel him towering over her. His hand brushed her hair, his calloused thumb running over her cheekbone. "I remembered I didn't get you peaches. You haven't eaten today, have you?" She didn't answer, he huffed. "Alright."

He walked away. A second later she heard the freezer open and close. Then the sound of clinking dishes. Angel peeked over her pillow. Romans back was hug. He rolled up his sleeves and started washing the dishes in her sink.

She should be the one doing that...

A few minutes later the sound of the water draining reached her. Angel wasn't crying anymore, but her head hurt, and she still felt terrible.

The freezer door opened and closed again. Roman came back to crouch in front of her. "It's sorbet, they didn't have icecream. And strawberries. Come, have some." He spooned some out for her, but she didn't open her mouth to take it. "Angel, please." She buried her face back in the pillow.

You're acting like a child...

He put the small container on the table in front of her next to the glass of juice she had completely forgotten she was looking for earlier. He took a deep breath, muttering something she couldn’t understand. He picked her up, hugging her to his chest, letting her legs wrap around him, and sat back down.

Angel buried her face in his neck. He smelled like cigarettes and soap. She stayed like that until she fell asleep.

#roman x angel fanfic #creative writing

15 notes · View notes

soukokuwu · 4 years

Note

Hi I’m really sorry I know you’re probably busy and don’t just do urgent fics for anyone but this one’s quite urgent, um if it’s not triggering for you of course, could you please do Chuuya walking in on his S/O s*lf h*rming? It doesn’t have to be long, just something comforting please, again I completely understand if you can’t it’s just a bit urgent, either way thank you I appreciate it ❤️

in your head.

genre. angst (fluff at the end ofc) warnings. self harm, blood synopsis. all of us have breaking points, but you have a saviour in the form of love. word count. 1.4k author notes. no, dw anony <3 i’m perfectly okay with writing this, you gave me a chance to vent a little too so thank you as well, and i hope this is ok!!

some days you think you’re strong enough to take it; all the rage, all the frustration, all the pain. some days you break and let them consume you. it’s natural, you’re only human after all. what’s dangerous about the latter is the possible extent to which it breaks you. because one moment you find yourself completely fine, feeling like you have the strength to take on the entire world.

other days, before you know it, you might already be half a step into the abyss.

today is one of those days.

you can’t explain why; it just is. is it because you’ve spent too long in the light? you’ve spent too long of a time shoving the thoughts into the back of your mind so in the end it all comes spilling out anyway? what’s worse then — breaking every single day a little bit at a time, or just crumbling into ashes all at once?

not that the answer matters. because you still hurt. everything’s screwed up, and no amount of effort will change anything, will it? no amount of trying will ever get rid of the loss, the grief, the guilt you feel. and you’re caught between two lines: to keep living and torturing yourself (which you think you deserve), or to just end it all and return to the beginning of life itself in death? the latter is a form of escape, though. do you really deserve it?

you can’t really explain the turmoil that goes on in your head. but it irritates the heck out of you. it hurts, and it will keep hurting. but it’s not like you can shut off your thoughts just like that.

maybe this is why the razor cuts deeper and deeper as you go. because the more you think, the larger the amount of pain you need to translate from emotional to physical. at least with physical pain, you’re distracted enough not to think.

how long has it been since you’ve done this? way too long. you’ve had your own personal crutch — your boyfriend. and immediately you feel an overwhelming amount of guilt rush over you. it isn’t alleviated when the next moment, you can hear his footsteps rushing over to you, the thumping all you can hear. or is that the drumming of your heart in your ears?

you don’t know. you really don’t know, you barely know anything.

all you can say for sure is that there is an unsightly amount of blood on the bathroom floor. you can’t even remember how long you’ve been sitting here piling slit on top of slit on top of slit. your arm is sore, and your fingers are sore too. you don’t even realise how much you’re crying until you turn to look at your boyfriend and all you can see is his striking orange hair all blurred into one with his face and those cerulean eyes.

and you cry even more because you think he doesn’t deserve this — he’s been so good to you. he doesn’t deserve having to worry over someone so pathetic, right?

but as always, he always seems to know what to do. and no, you don’t mean the fact that he’d thrown the razor aside the minute he got to you, or the fact that he disregards the blood staining his pants as he tries to clean your wounds.

it’s how he doesn’t pile on your guilt. no mention of “what the fuck did you do” or “what happened” because he doesn’t want to make you feel more overwhelmed than you already are. all he does is let you calm down as you nestle against his chest while he wraps your arm in a bandage, slowly, carefully, gently.

“i don’t deserve you, chuuya,” you let slip. you’re a little drowsy, and he knows it. after all, you’d lost a lot of blood. he makes a mental reminder to get the mafia doctor in to see you as soon as possible, but for now he has to put your emotions first. besides, he’s confident enough in his skills that you’d be okay for now, as long as you get some water in you and rest.

he smiles at you, poking your nose with his gloved finger before hoisting you in his arms and carries you to the bed. he doesn’t even care about the stains that get on his sheets. he just wants you comfortable. it’s not chuuya’s first time dealing with difficulties. although, this is the first time he’s seen your harm yourself. don’t get him wrong, though. he’s internally panicking, but he can’t show you that. it’ll make things worse, wouldn’t it?

honestly, he finds it weird how he knows what to do in this situation. how he doesn’t let his fear take over him. not that he lets himself ponder about it. he’s more concerned with what you’re upset about. but you both know — you’re not one to share so easily. even if he is your boyfriend of a year.

you’re amazed, actually, at how patient he is with you. considering he’s not much of it in anything else. never once has he actually pressured you to share anything. he’s asked you about it, but he’s quick to assure you that you don’t have to say a thing you aren’t comfortable with saying.

“you know, i’m so scared,” chuuya confesses as he sets down the glass of water on the nightstand after you take a big gulp. he sits himself next to you, and you allow him to wrap an arm around you, getting under the sheets, making you feel all warm and cosy.

“i’m so scared of losing you,” he explains, fingers now twirling your hair. “and i don’t know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, princess, but can i be selfish this one time and ask you to please, let me share that pain with you?”

you don’t miss the slight quiver in his tone. he’s close to cracking, but he’s trying not to — just for you. and maybe he’s not the best person to try and ‘cheer someone up’, but oh god, to you? his patience and understanding is more than enough. and he’s never once failed at it.

chuuya hugs you tighter now. you can smell the faint hint of cigarettes lingering on his skin, and while you’re normally not a fan of it, oddly enough, it smells like home. your home.

no man is an island. and it’ll probably take more than anyone can imagine to make you feel okay again, if it’s even possible at all. but sometimes people lose sight of what’s important. sometimes, some people try — and that’s already more than what you can ask for. because not everyone has the patience for it.

“i love you, baby,” he whispers as he plants a long kiss on your head, “i love you and i would do anything for you. so just — just stay with me as long as you can, okay?”

never any sign of pressure. and you can feel the slight minification of the hurt you thought would never let up. right, that’s right. because in a world where no one owes anyone else a thing, sometimes a simple show of effort is a treasure in itself.

“chuuya, i know i’m not easy to be with —“

“you’re worth it, though.”

you giggle a little at how quick he is to assure you of that. it’s only miniscule, but you do feel your mood lightening a little.

“shut up,” you chide, embarrassed, burying your head in his chest, hearing the slight quickening of his heartbeat. “i know i’m not easy to be with, and i know you never ask anything of me, so i promise, chuuya. i promise you, i’ll try.”

you don’t even have to ask him anything, but you know that even if sometimes you fail at it, if sometimes you just break again and have a similar moment, that he’ll still be there for you, to assure you that you’re never alone.

“it’s you and me against the world, princess.”

tags. @yokelish @gogolparadise @fyowyn-writes @animatedarchives

#bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd chuuya #bsd chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd #bsd imagines #bungo stray dogs #bsd oneshot #bsd scenarios #rachwrote #bsd nakahara chuuya #bsd chuuya imagines #nakahara chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya oneshot #bsd chuuya scenarios

314 notes · View notes

moon-spirit-yue · 3 years

Text

Camp Choas

(See the description if you’re confused I put it under the Camp Chaos tag)

Part 2/5

‘Maybe if I simply don’t leave my covers, Ba will forget that I even exist and I will be able to stay home,’ Raya thought as her alarm blared in her ears. “Dewdrop ignoring your alarm won’t magically make it disappear!” Benja exclaimed. ‘Well a girl can dream’ Raya thought as she rolled out of bed.

Time moved slowly for Raya as she got into her car with her Ba. She just wanted to crawl back into bed. Why is that such an impossible request? Why can’t a girl just have what she wants? Raya definitely got to camp way too soon.

Sisu bounced over to Raya the second she saw her in excitement. “Morning, Raya! How’s my bestest friend in the world doing?” Sisu asked enthusiastically. Raya gave her a deadpan stare. “How does it look like I’m doing Sisu?” Raya asked blankly. Sisu just laughed and swung an arm around Raya’s shoulder. “Aw c’mon! It’s gonna be a great day! I even got you coffee!”

Raya’s eyes sparkled at the caffeinated beverage presented to her. “Sisu have I told you how much I love you recently?” Raya asked her. “I mean it wouldn’t hurt if you said it more often,” Sisu spoke with a grin. “We should head down now, campers are coming!” Raya sighed before following Sisu down to the great amphitheater.

Just when Raya thought she was going to be mentally okay, Namaari just had to open her mouth. “Great spirits, Raya, you’re looking a little rough this morning. Those kids wear you out already?” the little binturi asked. Honestly, Raya needed to vent a little before her campers came filing in, so she just nodded at the taller girl.

“You have no idea. A small group of little girls that want something are a truly terrifying source,” Raya sighed. Namaaari chuckled. “The boys wore me out too, I can’t even deny it. Who knew a stick could cause a whole rebellion against me?” Raya had to laugh. “Not to brag or anything, but my uprising was caused by a wooden spoon,” she replied. Namaari raised her eyebrows and grinned. “Ah yes, what better creation is there in all of Kumandra than a wooden spoon?” Raya was surprised to find that she was enjoying talking to Namaari. (well, not really that surprised but we don’t have time to unpack ALL of that)

Soon enough all of the campers rolled in and the day was kicked off. During crafts was when Raya’s irritation really kicked off. A random LIT transferred into her group and the girl was literally useless! The only time she even talked was when Raya introduced herself! Other than that, total silence. She would be complaining to Sisu about this later.

Thankfully, Sisu was with Raya in the pool today with no Namaari in sight. Raya refused to acknowledge her disappointment. Cause it wasn’t there. Obviously. ANYWAYS. Raya began to casually talk smack with Sisu. “And THEN the little brat threw the bubble solution at her! I mean what! They’re just a bunch of orbys, it's not that deep girl. Ugh how did a couple of six year olds already get into beef on the second day of a one week camp” Raya groaned. Sisu cackled as Raya finished telling her about an argument the tired girl had to break up.

“Well kids find certain things to be very important. Like, life or death important. It makes things interesting,” Sisu told her. “Well these damned kids are interesting if anything,” Raya sighed as the whistle blew signalling for the kids to get out of the pool. Thankfully, there were no other mishaps during the day and the campers were sent home once more.

Unfortunately for Raya, Sisu couldn’t drive her home because she needed to pick up her little sister Amba from soccer practice. Considering the fact that her ba was the director, he had to wait and make sure everyone had left before he could head home. Raya flopped on one of the steps of the amphitheater as she waited for the last few stragglers to get picked up.

Namaari, being one of the stragglers previously mentioned, stood right above her. “You want some candy? I’m heading up and thought I should ask you as well,” she explained. ‘Were her ears a little pink?’ Raya thought. She decided not to dwell on it. “Uh yeah actually. Can you check and see if there’s any Kit Kats left?” She asked. Namaari nodded and walked back up to the office.

A couple of minutes later Namaari walked backed down, tossing the other few JCs and counselors their candy. She simply sat down next to Raya and dropped three Kit Kats on her stomach. “Did you also want this mini Hershey’s bar? I can’t figure out who wanted it,” Namaari asked Raya. The shorter girl shrugged and held out her hand saying, “Sure why not? It’s been a very long day.” Namaari hummed in agreement and handed her the bar.

After eating the mini Hershey’s bar in one bite, Raya quickly moved on to the Kit Kat bars. Since Raya isn’t a monster, she naturally breaks the KIt Kat into two pieces. The chocolate is already melted and sticks to her fingers but Raya can’t find it within herself to care. The candy was just so good that she couldn’t help but release a happy moan when the chocolate hit her taste buds.

She was pulled out of her chocolate bliss by Namaari’s mocking laughter. “I never knew you were such a messy eater, Raya. You’re getting chocolate everywhere,” Namaari grinned. Raya sighed internally. Of course this binturi would ruin her vibes. “Well I apologise for my eating habits, dep la, maybe if it wasn't already melted we wouldn’t be in this situation,” Raya snarked back. She proceeded to throw away the candy wrappers, but was still left with the matter of her sticky chocolate fingers.

Namaari noticed her dilemma and smiled a rather vicious smile. It unnerved Raya greatly. “If you need help with cleaning up, all you need to do ask,” Namaari told her. Raya was confused as Namaari brought her hand close to her face. Nothing would have prepared Raya for what Namaari did.

The taller, muscular woman brought Raya’s hand to her mouth and licked the chocolate right off.

Raya’s face was an explosion of red. ‘SHE JUST LICKED MY HAND WHAT DO I DO SOMEONE HELP ME DOESN’T ANYONE ELSE SEE THIS MADNESS!’ she cried in her head. Namaari, clearly satisfied with Raya’s reaction, grabbed her bag and walk towards her mom’s car.

“My rides here, so I’ll be seeing you tomorrow sweetness,” Namaari practically purred as she waltzed right into her Ma’s car and drove off.

“Alright dewdrop, we’re all set! I even brought you some-,” her ba noticed the look on Raya’s face. “Is everything alright, dewdrop?” he asked. Raya gulped in some much needed air.

All Raya could say was, “I wish the ground would swallow me whole.” Benja chuckled. “The kids couldn’t have been that bad,” he told her.

Oh, if only he knew it wasn’t the kids Raya was worried about

Taglist: @isitbussinjanelle

#raya and the last dragon #ratld #rayaari #raymaari #rayamaari #ratld namaari #ratld raya #raya of heart #raya disney #disney raya #raya namaari #namaari x raya #namaari of fang #raya and namaari #namaari #raya x namaari #Camp Chaos

32 notes · View notes

1787americanrevnerd · 3 years

Text

The Life of Rebecca Barnes

Sorry if the dates are wrong, I tried my best to do the math.

The Howling Commandos had finally tracked down the only living family of James Barnes. James never talked about his personal life before the war to any of the Commandos and he really only talked to Steve. And since the Barnes' family is very closed off, it was hard to find James's family to offer condolences. He had died a while ago in the Swiss Alps, the army was going to send a letter but the Commandos thought it would be better to say it in person.When they came to the small apartment in NYC and knocked on the door they were not expecting a young girl with three other kids clinging onto her. The girl had frizzy, curly, hip-length dark brown hair. The Commandos knew this was the right house because the girl had the same smile as James.

"Hello, what can I do for you?" she asked. Dum Dum spoke next, "Is it okay if we come inside we worked with James." The girl nodded and ushered them inside. "Rikki, who are these people," asked a little girl with dirty blonde hair and green eyes. "Well, Lizzy these are some of Jamie's friends." Rikki picked up Lizzy and put her on her hip. "Is Stevie coming?" The Commandos felt guilty at the question Lizzy asked, Steve died the day previous."Anyway, what brings you to my apartment?" asked Rikki. "Well we are looking for a Rebecca is she home?" said Gabe Jones. "Oh, that's me, Rikki's a nickname my stupid brother gave me when we were kids." The Commandos now felt even more saddened by the news they were about to give the Barnes family. "Could we talk in private," one of the Commandos asked Rebecca.

Rikki led them into a separate room so that they could talk privately. "So why are you at my house?" asked Rikki. The Commandos knew that they should rip the bandaid off but it's still difficult to take off the bandaid. "Rikki that's a funny nickname," said Jim trying to start a conversation. "Yeah, I would always try to annoy my brother by calling him Jamie because he didn't like to be called, and I quote, "A name meant for a girl" so I always called him Jamie. He then started to call me Rikki since it sounds like a boy's name. And it just kind of stuck.""Ms. Barnes we have some unfortunate news to tell you," said Jack. Rebecca stiffened, "Is Jamie okay?" All of the Commandos looked down and Rebecca gasped. "He died in action, we were ambushing a train in the swiss alps and your brother fell off the side. He died fighting, I'm sorry for your loss," said Gabe. "Why isn't Steve here telling me this then?" questioned Rebecca. "Steve died crashing a plane into the ice in order to save millions," explained Dum Dum. They tried to say nice things to her like, "It's okay." "They died for a greater cause" but with every word Rebecca got angrier. Rebecca stood up and wiped off her tears, " No it's not okay my brothers died! For you people, and then you start saying meaningless words to me about it. Get out, get out of my house goddamn it!" The Commandos left silently not wanting to upset Rebecca further.

Rebecca went to her siblings, "I have some bad news, Stevie and Jamie died in the war." Lizzy and Martha went quiet and Linda, who was only a baby, started to cry. Rebecca wanted to cry too, but she had to stay strong like Jamie always did.Once the kids went to bed Rebecca dropped on the floor and started crying. "We can't even bury a body," she said over and over again. Jamie was always so full of life it's hard to imagine him dead. Deep down inside Rebecca believed that he was not dead, they had always had a twin-like bond, even though there was a 3 year age difference, meaning that they always knew what the other thought and the other well-being. Rebecca Barnes hated the people responsible for her brother's death and Rebecca needed to bring them to justice.

One Year Later

Rebecca wanted to do something worthwhile and she thought joining the S.S.R. was the only way to do so. Rebecca had good grades and experience with things the S.S.R did. She had taken criminology and forensic science in school and had just finished her combat training.When she was in the office and the man put down her file her looked up at her and said, "Why should we hire you?" he asks. Rebecca thinks about it and says, " I want to make the world a safer place and-" The man cuts her off, "No, no, no, I mean why would we hire you a woman. We already have Margret." Rebecca stands up and slaps her hands on the table, "Listen here you short sexist piece of sh*t, if a man came in here with the file I have I know for a fact you would hire him. Also, it is my human right to be able to work if I want to, I'm leaving so give me a letter when you make up your mind."

As she stormed out she was cut off by Margret Carter, "I agree with what you said about the chief being a short sexist," she didn't finish her sentence being a proper lady. Rebecca however was not, "Piece of sh*t." Peggy nodded. "I know a great Diner around here would you like to go once my shift is over?" Rebecca didn't have many friends this would be good for her. "Sure I would love to."

When they went to the diner Peggy led them to a booth and she sat down. "So what's your name?" asked Peggy. Rebecca hadn't even realized that they didn't know each other's names. "Rebecca Barnes," she said simply. Peggy froze at the surname remembering someone who was lost in the war. "Peggy Carter," Peggy said thinking that Barnes was a very popular surname it could be a whole other family.

"Do you have any siblings?" Peggy asked. "I have three younger sisters, Elizabeth, Lidia, and Margret. And I ha- had one brother, James," answered Rebecca. Peggy was now sure that this is the sister of James Buchanan Barnes. "What about you do you have any siblings?" asked Rebecca in return. "Yes I also had an older brother," replied Peggy. "I'm sorry for your loss," replied Rebecca. "It's okay, it was a long time ago." Rebecca was very easy to talk to, and she wasn't like the people Peggy was usually drawn to. She was far from a proper lady, she sat like someone who was not taught proper edict, and she was wearing pants. Not pants made for women but pants that probably belonged to a man at some point. "Your pants where did you get them?" Peggy asked. "They're hand-me-downs, from my brother. Money was never tight at my house but it just made me feel more normal, you know wearing hand-me-downs like most other younger siblings. Anyway enough about me, what's your deal?"

"I have worked in the SSR for a long time and I didn't get many jobs or respect until the war when I helped with Project Rebirth. After the war, well I turned into the secretary. I want to show people that I can do just as much as a man can and that I didn't just become an Agent because there weren't enough men to do the job. Why are you here?" Rebecca knew her answer, " You might not like it or agree with it but, I want to take down the people that hurt me and so many families. I don't want anyone else's brother to die because of a war. And the only way to do that is to rid the world of insane people who want to take over the world." Peggy nodded, "Well seeing as we will be the only women in the department I look forward o filing papers with you and hopefully putting "villains" in jail." Rebecca smiled and took a sip of her water, this felt like a good thing.

2 years later

It was Rebecca's first mission, there was no one left to do it. She had to take down some drug dealers. When she got to the location something was wrong the drug dealers were there all right but there were other people there. They had the HYDRA symbol on their jackets. Oh, how stupid had we been to think that if we killed the leader that they would die she thought. She had to move closer to get a better look.

She went up in the vents in order to hear and see everything clearly. Unfortunately, the vents were not very strong and she fell from them. The drug dealers left and the HYDRA soldiers pinned her to the ground. "Let's see who you are," the soldier said as he reached for the dog tags she wore. "These say, James Barnes, you can't be him. You must be his sister but which one? Are you Martha, Lidia, or maybe Elizabeth? Wait you are in your twenty's oh yes you must be Rebecca. Your brother's favorite."

"What are you going to do to me now that I know you still exist?" she asked. "Nothing, we know that you will be too scared to tell. Now run along and don't come back. She ran back not wanting to die. But she will tell people about Hydra.

Once she was out of earshot the soldier said, "Send the Winter Soldier after her. We can't have her knowing about us, or him."

---------------------------------------------------------------------Rebecca was on a date with her boyfriend of one year, William Proctor. They had stayed at Rebecca's house since they were an interracial couple so no one would serve them at restaurants. "So how was work today?" asked William. "It was good," lied Rebecca. She still hadn't told him about her real job he thought she was working at a DMV. "You're lying, you always take a sip of your wine and look left when you lie," said William. If he wasn't catching her lie Rebecca would have thought that it was very sweet that he notices the small things about her. "It wasn't the best but, I did get to try something different. William, I don't work at the DMV, I'm working at the S.S-" at that moment a metal hand went through the wall.

It was a man dressed in what seemed to be kevlar, he had a district metal arm, and was wearing a mask. Or a muzzle, part of Rebecca thought. "Is this someone from work?" asked William sarcastically. "Yeah, I was trying to track down some drug dealers, ran into HYDRA. I guess they sent their puppet after me," she replied. The man didn't like her comment very much because he started to attack her. Rebecca blocked most of his punches until his knife cut into her right shoulder, he then pulled it down to her wrist causing a massive cut along her arm. "Rebecca are you okay?" asked William from where he was standing in the kitchen. "Yeah just throw me a wrench or a knife!" yelled Rebecca. She had an idea, it might not be great and was based on a very flimsy theory but she wanted to try nonetheless. Once, William passed her a long kitchen knife she tried to shove it into one of the slots on the metal arm. She was successful she then twisted them with great struggle though since the man was trying to kill her. William came from behind and put two more objects in the man's metal arm. By this time Rebecca had already done quite a bit of damage. Knowing that he would lose the man left. Rebecca then collapsed in William's arms.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------"So how did you really cut the entirety of your right arm?" asked Peggy. "What do you mean? I was in a car crash and I cut myself on the window," answered Rebecca. "That's absolute rubbish, you're a great driver. Also, you're a terrible liar," Peggy told her. Rebecca sighed, "A man broke into my house, probably working for the people I "met" a few days back, he cut my arm." Peggy nodded, "What did he look like maybe I know about him." Rebecca thought back to the most distinct thing about him, "He a metal arm for his left arm." Peggy's eyes widened, "People have been talking about him, civilians I mean, a man with a metal left arm comes up at least once with every political murder after the war. People started to call him the Winter Soldier, the S. S. R. has been looking into him for a while now, but nothing comes up, he's like a ghost." Rebecca smirked, "Well then it must be a miracle that I'm still alive."

2 years later

This was Rebecca's first mission since she found out she was pregnant. She and William had decided that William would stop working, he didn't like his job much anyway. Rebecca almost got fired because the S. S. R. didn't want to pay for her maternity leave. She told her boss that she wouldn't take the leave, her husband (they aren't technically married but they have known each other for three years) would be home taking care of the child. She still went on missions since she only had a small baby bump. Nothing dangerous though, just a stakeout with Peggy and Howard. She told them about HYDRA well, she told Peggy and Howard overheard. She and Howard didn't get along, he was egotistical and cocky, two traits Rebecca hated. Howard had an equal despise for her, she was too reckless, something that wasn't always a good thing.

HYDRA was loading a truck nothing too interesting until the Winter Soldier came out to help them. He doesn't have his mask on but he was far away so no point in trying to figure out who he is, thought Rebecca. "Hey he kind of looks like Barnes," pointed out Howard. "I'm right here Stark, " growled Rebecca. "No, I mean your brother," explained Howard. Peggy leaned forward and squinted her eyes, "I mean from a distance." Rebecca laughed, "Why would Jamie be working for HYDRA? Also, my brother is incredibly vain, there is no way he'd let his hair get like that!" Peggy nodded then looked at Howard, "She has a point." Howard thought for a minute, "Maybe they put his brain in a blender?" Rebecca looked sick, "Please stop." Howard did, there were only a few things Howard was afraid of, and one of them was an angry Barnes.

3 years later

Rebecca had just had her second child, Myla, and she was already worrying. Her son, James, was a tiny terror she hoped that he didn't rub off on Myla. James had skin a little darker than Rebecca's, he had Williams nose and eyes, everything else about his completion looked closer to Rebecca. Kyla had very dark skin, she also had curly brown hair like her mother, she had her grandfather's eyes, and had Rebecca's jawline. Rebecca felt bad that none of them would ever meet their Aunts and Uncles since both Rebecca and William's family did not agree with the pairing. Rebecca felt especially bad that the one Uncle who would love to meet the kids couldn't be there. She and William had bought a small three bedrooms one bathroom house, because of the new family edition. All in all, Rebecca couldn't wait for the adventures to come with her family.

12 Years Later

Peggy had brought Rebecca to a diner to talk. "I and Stark have started something, called S.H.I.E.L.D. it's basically the S. S. R. but private would you like to join us. Rebecca nodded furiously, "Of course, I've been meaning to get out of the S. S. R. and I'm sure anything you're founding has to be worth it." Peggy laughed, "So what do you say we go and hand in our letters of resignation." Rebecca got up from the table excited to have a new beginning.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------"Seriously though Stark, why haven't you found someone yet. You're almost 43, times running out," said Peggy. "Look not all of us want to get married and have kids super young like Ms. I'm Fine over there," retorted Howard. "What do you mean young? I was 29 when I had James, and 32 when I had Mayla," said Rebecca. "The point still stands and I'm in a relationship now and it's going great," states Howard. "What's her name?" asked Peggy. "Maria, speak of the devil, I have a date with her. Nice talking to you ladies." Rebecca scoffed, "Let's hope this one isn't insane."

5 Years Later

"Top of the class aye?" asked Rebecca. Mayla blushed, "Yeah which means that I can choose any job I desire." Rebecca smiled, "What do you want to do then?" Mayla looked down, "Well I already applied for a job at S.H.I.E.L.D. and they hired me so I guess that." Rebecca was a little confused as to why her daughter would go behind her back on this one. "I just didn't want people thinking I got the job because of Aunt Peggy. I'll be working in the science division so I don't want people thinking I'm just dumb and spoiled." Rebecca laughed, "No one will think that you graduated top of your class from college when you're 19."

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

That same year Anthony Stark was born, Howard was nervous. He was worried that Tony would turn out like him, Peggy worried the same thing. Rebecca tried to tell Howard that Maria was a good lady, she probably toned down the Stark genes in that kid.

21 Years Later

William had come to pick Rebecca up from work. That was when something strange happened William noticed something Peggy didn't. "Hey why have these guys neer finished their mission?" asked William. Howard went to get their files, "Maybe they forgot to check in?" Rebecca shook her head, "But all of them admit to not completing the mission. And they have outrageous reasons as to why. Who believed these guys?" Peggy went to the back of the file room and took out a few more, "They were all signed by these men, we don't have any records on them until the year 1965." William spoke up, "Maybe they are in on something together, like a rival agency type deal." Howard scoffed, "There is no way SHIELD could be infiltrated." Rebecca hit him upide the head, "Your arogence will be the end of you, Stark." Peggy shruged, "We'll look into it in the morning. Howard your son is home you should be spending time with him. Rebecca if I am not mistaken you have your grandchildren Kimberly and Scott waiting for you to teach them how to properly use a gun." They all left but none of them knew that this was the last time Howard, Peggy, and Rebecca would be in the same room together.

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

They were all invited to the funeral, even if Rebecca wasn't that close to Howard. Peggy and Rebecca sat next to Tony the whole time knowing that he needed someone to be there with him. Peggy and Rebecca were like his Aunts, they were usually at the Stark estate. Rebecca and Howard would be bickering most of the time but Rebecca was still present at the house often when Tony was a child. Everyone was telling Tony about how his father was a great man and how they were sorry that he lost his dad. However Peggy and Rebecca tod him that Howard wasn't perfect and that they were sorry he had to lose his parents but they never tried to tell him what to feel or how to think about it.

18 Years Later

Rebecca had grown old and now had great-grandchildren, but she still worked at SHIELD. She didn't work in the field anymore though, she was a therapist of sorts. One day they sat her down with a young lady with bright red hair and told Rebecca to make the girl safe to be around. They were then left alone to talk and to help this girl through whatever was going on with her."My name is Rebecca Barnes Proctor, and you are?""Natasha Romanoff.""What would you like me to call you?""...Natasha.""Well then Natasha let's get started. Why are you here?""I worked for the KGB a kind man named Clint Barton dragged me here and they told me to sit through this until I was stable enough to go into the field.""I used to be a SHIELD Agent you know, I was here when this place was first built. Now I work here, helping people like you.""...Who is that a picture of on your desk?""That was my brother, he died in the war.""I'm sorry.""It's okay he's been gone for a long time. Anyway why would people think you aren't stable?""I was a Russian Spy, they just want to make sure I'm on their side.""Do you promise not to betray us?""I wouldn't dream of it. I can't go to a prison cell, again.""Great then I will tell themyou are stable as long as you come help me watch over my great grandchildren every Thursday.""I will Mrs. Proctor.""Oh please, call me Rebecca.""Thanks Rebecca."

1 Year Later

"You seem quiet today Natasha is something wrong?""It's nothing I just got out of the Hospital that's all.""What were you there for?""A man with a metal arm shot someone through me.""So I see you've met the Winter Soldier.""The Winter who?"The Winter Soldier, he's an assassin.""Why haven't I heard of him?""He's like a ghost no one can track him and every file we have of himis erased gone. You see this scar he gave me it."Natasha looked at the scar, "Looks like it hurt." Rebecca sighed, "It did for a long time, but what's done is done. Be careful Natasha." Natasha smiled, "I always am."8 Years Later"Rebecca!" called Natasha, "I brought some company for you!" Rebecca smiled, "I'm in the kitchen." She was trying to complete the crossword when she saw Natasha. "Hello, dear I'mso glad you found time to visit me." Natasha looked at the other visitors, "Guys this is Rebecca, she's a few years younger than Steve. And Rebecca this is Sam-" Rebecca inturpterd her, "Stevie! Why haven't you visited me since you came back from the ice?" Steve looked dumbstruck, "I thought you would be dead or you wouldn't remember me." Rebecca wacked him upside the head, "That was easier to do when you where shorter but this will have to do. How dare you think me dead! And I'm not that old, this brain's still ticking!"

Bucky was behind the wall he didn't really know who this lady was and he wasn't sure she would be happy to have a murderer in her house. He noticed something on her left arm then, a scar going down it. Bucky remembered that, he did it to the young women who was trying to have dinner with her boyfriend, then he tried to kill her. Bucky stepped out of the shadows to say he was sorry for hurting her all those years ago when the women hugged him. She started saying, "Jamie, I knew you were alive! Everyone said that you were dead but I knew deep down that you were alive!" Natasha smiled, that was the first time Bucky had ever seen her smile. "As I was about to say, this is Rebecca Barnes Proctor," said Natasha. When the name was said Bucky started to remember her, he would call her Rikki. Bucky hugged her back, "Long time no see Rikki." Rebecca looked at Bucky's arm, "I know what you did and I forgive you."

1 Year Later

Rebecca died peacefully in her sleep a few months after seeing Bucky again. Evryone said that since she saw him her heart had been ready to go, knowing that he was alive. Others said that she missed her friends and loved ones. Whichever you choose to belive just remember that Rebecca Barnes lived an amazing life.

#rebecca barnes #the howling commandos #peggy carter #howard stark #tony stark #steve rogers #james buchanan barnes #natasha romanoff #the winter solider #time skip #marvel #mcu fic #mcu

17 notes · View notes

paperstarwriters · 4 years

Text

Untimely Thirst

I am not a MegOp shipper. I don’t mind it and it can look hekka cute at times, but I am not an active shipper of it, so take the fic with a grain of salt. It’s a Vampire/Werewolf au fic based off of this thread from @optimus-audio-fins and @yeetmetothehell (Sorry if you didn’t wanna be tagged I kinda just assumed) Also this is my first MegOp fic so... I’m a bit unused to it. Sorry.

I’m also gonna warn you that there are a few innuendos that slipped in and I’m really freaking sorry but someone is sucking someone else’s energon, OK? not my fault we decide to say the “Vampire sucked him dry” (or maybe I’m a bit dirty minded IDK) Also this has little to no editing! why? Easy, I’m lazy. Don’t hold it against me. If you find any major errors feel free to point them out. I don’t mind going in and changing things.

Having said that, enjoy!

Looking back on it, Optimus should not have jumped right back into battle after nearly getting his aft handed to him by those monster hunters. He most certainly should have taken heed of Ratchet’s warnings and even more so, he should have taken something to drink.

Although the humans have expressed their interest and lack of fear from the fact that Optimus is basically a “space vampire” he still did not want them to learn about some of the other aspects that come with a pair of fangs. He is much more than a glorified bat— he can’t even turn into a bat! He couldn’t exactly blame them of course, their encounters with his kind were often quick and without explanation, so humans had to make up some information to explain the event to themselves. Whatever the case, he would much rather listen to Miko ask for the hundredth time if he would turn into a bat than be in this predicament.

A fight in an energon mine was something that did not often end up well, this was no exception. Too many shots deflected from themselves instead hit the walls or pillars of the cave, and now they were stuck, an enclosure far too cramped to fight in, but large enough that they could at least sit apart like civilized mechs. They were able to stand before, but between their attempts at fighting and the attempts of blasting a hole to escape, they were forced to sit together and wait for help to arrive.

Meanwhile, Megatron fared arguably worse, at least in his own eyes. Optimus showed no sign of his predicament, while Megatron was forced to display it before himself. During the fight he had intended to utilize his own extra ability, termed “werewolf” by humans. Aeons fighting as a gladiator allowed him to regulate his transformation, meaning he could hang in a range between his usual form and going for a full wolf, but something about Unicron’s blood affected his transformation. It took much longer to return to normal and unless he wished to walk around with dog ears and a tail he rarely turned. Today however, was a fight against Optimus. He brought his all to every match as he always did, and as a consequence, he sat in this enclosed place with Optimus trying desperately to hide his furiously wagging tail. It didn’t help that his scent filled their little room, only making his tail wag faster, and his ears twitch as he longed to rest them upon his chassis to listen to the soft thrum of his spark.

Both with their own hardships to hide, they sat, silently. Awkwardly. It was going to stay that way until they were saved. Correction, it was supposed to stay that way until they were saved. Optimus’ needs however did not relent and weighed down on him heavier than the stones above their helm. In his unwilling observations of Optimus his hardships did not go unnoticed by Megatron. The way his frame rattled as he shook, and his labored ex-venting, that caused him to flare his fangs. Not to mention the unnaturally brighter glow of his optics. In the same way Orion would have his occasional hunger pangs, Optimus, despite being a prime, still craved. Without thinking, Megatron spoke up.

“Do you need a drink?”

He even offered his arm. It hung there a moment, while Optimus’ jaw remained in his lap. Megatron did not fare much better than a series of “ah, um, well” spilling from his vocalizer in the same fashion Starscream did when he was seriously considering the pros and cons of tearing off his wings. Or more horrifyingly, the same string of noises Orion made when he first offered his energon for him to drink.

It took a moment for Optimus to regain his senses. Of all the things to happen that was not one of them. It took the feeling of fluids dribbling from the corners of his mouth for him to snap it shut, and consequently snap his mask on right after it.

“No.” It was flat. Bitter. Fake. His usual response, his usual demeanor against his enemy. The dance they both knew for so long. Megatron could work with this.

“Why Prime?” he grinned, lopsided and cocky, flashing his own sharpened denta and trying to ignore how his tail seemed to pick up the pace. “Afraid I may stab you in the back? As we’ve already confirmed we cannot do that here. After all, it is your denta in my lines. If I tried anything too suspicious for you you could easily drain me. No?”

His heating fans kicked in. A loud roar amidst the silent little cavern they were stuck in, and a louder roar in Megatron’s ears. He couldn’t help it though, he did want to taste Megatron’s energon again. It was sweet, intoxicatingly so, and even more so after a battle. He could drink it for hours if he was allowed to, but that would mean that he’d hurt his friend, and in the past that’s what inevitably stopped him. Now, however, that barrier was worn down. He had no qualms about punching him, shooting at him, or even attempting to sheath his blades in his chassis. It did not however mean that he wanted him dead. No, he only wanted him back. Aeons of war and he still thought in that same foolish way he did as an archivist. Ratchet was right, he did go soft.

“I do not want or need your energon Megatron,” he lied, staring him straight in the eye as he did. “Even if I did, it’s tainted.”

That was true. Dark energon pulsed along with his usual energon intake, and for the first time in a long time, Megatron cursed Unicron’s blood. He didn’t have any feasible reason to convince Optimus to drink his energon. Tainted now with dark energon, his own energon must have smelled disgusting. It must have seemed revolting. At the very least he did not have to worry about his wagging tail anymore.

“It’s not like you have much of a choice.” It felt like an excuse— one he was trying to tell himself rather than Optimus. “By the way you sound, I doubt you would be able to hold up until any help arrives, yours and mine.” He leaned back smirking as he was once more granted the upper hand. “Even if you do, how hungry would you be by then? What would you do if it was your precious medic that came around? Or perhaps the scout Bumblebee? Would you drain them at first glance?” He bit his glossia then forcing his train of thought to a halt before he began to spill too much.

That… That was a good excuse to drink from Megatron’s lines again. Dark energon or not, Optimus craved to sink his denta into his proto-flesh again. To relish in the taste of energon pouring down his throat directly from Megatron’s lines. It always felt as if it was being pumped right to his awaiting glossia when he drank it right after Megatron came back from a battle. Sure, Ratchet’s energon tasted nice as well, but nothing seemed to beat the sweet flavor he got from Megatron. It took a lot of willpower just to keep himself from revving his engines, a bad habit that occurred when he got excited, carried on from his life as Orion pax. One that Megatron would most certainly notice and recognize. As much as he wanted to— as much as he craved it, he still refused to drop his guard. Why was Megatron so intent on supplying him energon anyways?

“Why...Why do you want me... to drink from you?” he managed through heavy ex-vents. It was getting bad. Incredibly bad.

It was most certainly getting bad. Caught red handed for something he did not think about. For all his planning and consideration to convince Optimus to drink from him, he never managed to formulate a feasible excuse. For now, at least, he had to buy time.

“Why indeed,” he wondered aloud, forcing his face into a sly grin. He allowed himself a pause to consider his next words carefully, cautious to save a part of his processor to regulate his face. “Perhaps it is to ensure that none of my troops are felled by your fangs.” That sounded… okay… right?

Apparently it did not as Optimus arched an optical ridge. “I was unaware you still cared for your crew, considering you did not raise a digit to aid them as the mine collapsed.” Right. There were most certainly a good number of Vehicons that may be caught in the rubble, and Megatron was far too preoccupied fighting Optimus to care. Optimus on the other hand did his best to ensure his team was safe, even amidst fighting him.

He chuckled at the comment and smirked, a look that irked and irritated Optimus. Just let him suffer in peace already. The more this dragged on the more he could feel his defenses wear down. “Well, Prime, perhaps I wanted to see you succumb to your… oh, what was it called again?” No. He knew well what it was called and he refused. “I recall Orion talking all about it once… ah yes, an energon frenzy, wasn’t it?” If he was in that state, he could rip him apart. Turn feral with barely a twitch of an optic. Of course that was what Megatron wanted. Force him to fight on his level. Like a gladiator, only concerned for their own life. Like a monster, without thinking. It made his lines run cold.

Perhaps he overstepped his bounds. Optimus was no longer trembling, his armor instead clamping around his frame. Even his auditals which Megatron had taken to watching twitch back and forth while Optimus wasn’t looking now froze in place before they lowered in the same manner he would flatten his ears against his helm. The only remaining reminder of his hunger was in the burn of his optics, now glowing far brighter than it did before, the bright beams focused right on him in a hateful glare. A spotlight for him and him alone, and one he was used to returning with a smile.

They glared at one another, a glare that any from their own teams would be interpreted as hateful glares, seeking to eagerly claw out one another’s optics if only the situation had been better. Instead, two masks faced one another—

I want to drink Megatron’s energon!

I want Optimus to drink my energon!

—both hiding the same thing.

They sat there for a few more minutes, glaring before the tremors returned. They were barely noticeable at first if not for the aid of Megatron’s heightened hearing. Slowly that grin became real. He grew eager awaiting Optimus’ inevitable unravel before him. Simultaneously, Optimus’ scowl, revealed once his battle mask snapped back from the increasing tremors, became more real as well. He did not wish to succumb to Megatron’s wishes, but more so, he did not want to end up sucking Megatron dry.

The tremors increased, and the haze was beginning to seep into his processor. Everything smelled so heavily of energon— likely because they were in a collapsed energon mine— but it smelled specifically of Megatron’s energon. His spark spun in his chest as the dizzying urge overtook his processor, crawling over his shielding walls and forcing his optics to snap away. To look away, to look anywhere else but at Megatron.

He leaned onto his servos now, mouth opening and closing as he panted, showing off his denta glowing red as they were caught in the spotlight of his optics. He was only vaguely aware of his wagging tail as he watched Optimus come undone. It took a tremendous amount of willpower to keep himself from bending as well, he wanted Optimus to ask him, but if it took any longer…

“Megatron.” He sounded so strangely weak despite the bright intensity of his optics. “May I drink your energon?”

There’s drool slipping past his fangs, dripping down his chin and onto the floor, but he cannot find the will inside himself to care. He’s so, so thirsty, and while any energon would suffice at this point, he doesn’t want anyone else’s. Even if help were to arrive, just in the bare nick of time, both the Autobots and the Decepticons would have to pry him from Megatron. Even though Megatron offered first, it still comes as a surprise when he immediately raises his arm before him. Optimus is only vaguely aware of the soft and subtle thump as Megatron’s tail hits the ground in it’s furious wagging, but he doesn’t have the mind to process such or to even care. He traces the seams in his armour, mostly the same since he last drank from him, and he opens his mouth to sink his fangs into the proto-flesh at one of the seams.

Dark energon is strangely sweet, but it’s a fake candy-like flavor that is easily distinguished from Megatron’s own energon. It’s every bit as intoxicating as he remembered long ago sweet, but now a degree of something savory was so much clearer now, whether this was enhanced by the dark energon, or time and aging, he may never know. Whatever the case, he greedily drank what his energon lines pumped onto his tongue, savoring every drop, knowing it may be many more aeons before he was granted another taste.

Megatron’s tail hit the ground so harshly that it was beginning to hurt. The bite on the other hand felt blissful, painless, and as wonderful as it did long ago. The sheer trust needed to offer someone like Optimus in order to make sure they were not drained of their energon, was not lost upon him. As much as the idea mixed with the ongoing war made his tanks twist into knots, he shoved them to the back of his processor. He’d use it as an excuse later. A reason why he most certainly did not indulge in such a… close encounter. For now Megatron let himself feel his energon flow into Optimus. A piece of himself being given to Optimus. Romantic, in some incredibly twisted sense, befitting for the two of them. Miraculously, even though Optimus was drinking Dark energon, it did not take any visible effect.

It would take a while for Dark Energon to properly settle in his energon lines. An upside to being a “space vampire” his resistance to foreign energons was much higher and with the added aid of the matrix, the two seemed to cancel each other out. Meaning he could continue to drink for just a little longer. He could take another sip of his fallen friend’s energon. He could savor another taste of Megatron. He was deaf to everything but the slow thrum of his energon lines and his spark. He wanted more— he wanted it all. Greedily he kept drinking and drinking, becoming more and more lost. A blood frenzy was approaching, he could feel it, feel it dribble into his consciousness, but this was what Megatron wanted to see wasn’t it? If Megatron wanted to see him delve into madness the same way he did for dark energon, he was more than willing to put on a show, more than willing to show off because he—

“Orion.” It was a soft whisper, strained as Megatron glared with tired optics.

Otpimus tore himself from his enemy’s arm checking internally for his energon levels and most importantly dark energon levels. It was close. If he drank any more, he may have actually begun to have some problems. It was diluted with regular energon, something that likely aided the slow intake. Optimus spared a worried glance to Megatron, who’s smirk seemed much more forced now that he could focus on it. The wagging tail and twitching ears became quickly apparent as well and just before Optimus could ask him about it, Megatron beat him to the punch.

“No, energon frenzy? Funny seeing as you were just about to drink me dry.” He chuckled earning a scowl from Optimus.

In that moment, a stone was shoved aside, revealing a beam of light other than their red and blue ones. A breath of fresh air seeped in through the hole, washing away the scent of energon, and each other.

“Optimus! Are you okay there?”

“Just fine, Bulkhead.”

More rocks were scooped away, and the two war leaders stumbled out into the excavated cavern. Optimus wavered his audital fins still twitching as he felt the tendrils of that energon frenzy seeping into him, already draining his mental energy as he fought against it. Megatron fared no better having been literally drained, as he was taken aside by Soundwave Bulkhead scowled giving a stiff nod to the silent mech who returned the nod before they parted ways, their leaders in tow.

“Sorry Prime, I had to team up with him to get you out…” Bulkhead muttered as if it was a horrible act. “In... the moment it was a wise choice Bulkhead…. I… I appreciate your efforts.” He managed to mumble as a ground bridge opened up. The swirling colors made him dizzy and irritated, but he forced himself to keep quiet about it.

“You sure you were okay with bucket head?” It took him a moment, recalling Miko having coined the name after Megatron and his helm’s likeness to a bucket.

He considered his choices in what to say, taking care to avoid the truth, overthinking it immensely as he settled on, “it was fine.”

“Ratchet’s got some energon for you when you get back to base, just hold on a little longer Prime” Optimus barely managed to hide his grin, tuning away just in time to see Megatron disappear in his own ground bridge a safe distance away.

“It’s alright Bulkhead. I’ve had my fill.”

Now, if only he took the chance to pet him.

#tfp megop #tfp megatron #tfp optimus prime #transformers fantasy au #vampire/werewolf #Vampire Optimus #Werewolf Megatron #maccadam #shipfic #megop #megatron x optimus prime #mutual pinning #pinning idiots #blood mention #My writing #thank you for reading #Transformers

57 notes · View notes

wolfpawn · 4 years

Text

Hiding In Plain Sight, Chapter 7

Story Summary - Imagine coming from a line of nobility or royalty and being in an arranged marriage with Loki in an attempt to strengthen your kingdom / alliance with Asgard. You’re not entirely on board with the idea but figured that the best you could do was to get to know your fiancé. You form an agreement with Frigga for you to pose as Loki’s personal servant for a few months so you can get to know who Loki really is – beyond the veil of his responsibility to the Asgardian throne, behind all the masks he wears when facing the public, to really know who Loki is behind closed doors as you slowly fall for each other. How long will you keep up the ruse with the God of Lies?

Chapter Summary - Loki reacts to the news that his wedding is far sooner than he thought.

Previous Chapter

Tags - @peppermint-j @alexakeyloveloki @cateyes315 @laserpente @bravotheroyalfool @teylacarter91 @heavenly1927

Loki walked out of the room without saying another word. Raven suspected that he was heading straight to his mother so to discuss the matter he had just been made aware of. She could see the anger and irritation in his features but as it stood, she also felt a lot of emotions herself and the information that had been thrust upon her also. A month, so long a time yet so very very little also. In a month, she would be wed to a being that, at best, was barely tolerant of her and that was before he would be told of her true identity. She was starting to realise that would be a concern. The more she learnt of Loki, the more she realised that this was not going to go well.

She spent time contemplating what she would need to do, barely realising that in her stress, she was simply rubbing down a desk in slow circles with no major purpose over and over.

“If you do that any longer, you will have sanded through the wood.” She turned to see a flustered Loki looking at her. “Actually, you have removed the polish, what agents have you used?” He walked over to study the wood. “I...is that oak? I thought this was pine?”

“Pine paint over oak,” she explained, looking at the lighter wood underneath. “I don’t know why someone would paint over a more expensive wood, but they did.” Her voice was emotionless.

“Why are you so bothered? Have you been sentenced to the gallows also?”

“I think so.”

“I have been told Tatiana, my normal maid is to return tomorrow, is that what this is about? Are they mistreating you in your original department?” Loki asked.

Through the fog of sadness at the situation, Raven was startled that he would even care enough to ask. “No, I just...I have a lot I have to consider in my own life at this time. Sorry.”

Loki did not let her pass as she tried to evade him. “No, if there is something afoot, you need to inform your superiors, this house will not stand for bullying or such.”

“I am sure you have enough to be worrying about with your own troubles, considering the news you were dealt today.”

“That is hardly the most startling news in the world, I have known about this betrothal for a considerable time but if you are being accosted in some manner, this needs to be dealt with.”

That resonated with Raven. She could tell he was anything but pleased with his news, yet was concerned for her. “No, I am not being bullied or mistreated, thank you, your highness.”

“You can say if you are.” He didn’t sound as pushy as before, trying to get information from her. “If anyone is bothering you over being an elf here…”

That caused Raven to frown slightly. “A tad ironic you would say that when the only two to speak ill of elves near me is your paramour and what she recited as being said by yourself. None other has been bothered by such.”

Loki sighed. “Well, I am glad that there is not a wider issue. As I stated before, I was merely venting when I spoke ill of Light Elves. I...I actually have admiration for them.” Raven eyed him sceptically. “They possess the most seidr and medicinal knowledge in the realms, that is commendable.”

“You called us unintelligent.”

“No, I never said that particular word. I stated that the princess will be subservient, not unintelligent. Since that is how she is raised.”

“She is strong-minded, I told you such already or do you think me lying?”

“How can she be when she is not allowed to do much?”

“That does not automatically equate to subservient though, does it?”

“I suppose not. I just assumed with the Light Elf attitude to daughters…”

“What is Asgard’s attitude to royal daughters?”

“I am not sure, there has not been one in a few generations.” Loki paused. “Why is it very few realms have princesses, actually?”

“Maybe there’s some sort of attempt to not have them? No one seems to want to have any.”

“It’s not exactly like you can decide,” Loki commented. “I suppose as the Princess is the first female in a few generations too, that may...though it is though the male line such things occur.” Loki thought aloud to himself more than Raven.

“Why do you not call her by her name?” Raven asked. “If you are to marry her, it seems only right to actually acknowledge her by her name.”

Loki paused to consider her question. “I rather not.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It will in a month.”

“Then I will deal with it in a month.”

Raven wanted to know why even saying her name was too much for him but insulted and hurt and attempting to deal with her own situation, she said nothing more on that matter. “I better continue to remove the varnish from that desk, I guess. If you need anything…”

“I will deal with that. I need you to…” Loki looked around. “I am not sure what to ask you to do. I suppose I better use these last few hours to see what I can learn about her.”

“When is the princess arriving?”

“In two days, apparently.”

Raven nodded at the information having not been told that herself. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about herself in the third person but she knew that to not do so now would raise suspicion. “It appears you need to deal with it far sooner than a month so, calling the Princess by her correct name.”

“Why do you feel that to be the pertinent concern?”

“It will not bode well if you cannot call her by her name. Think of how insulted she would be.”

“Is that the sort of thing that would insult her?” Loki queried. “Of all the matters in the realms, that is what she concerns herself with?”

“She is to be your wife and you cannot even have the decency to speak her name. What if she knew about what you said here right now? What if she were to hear this conversation between us, how could you justify this to her?” Raven challenged, angered at the lack of respect he had for her. “Perhaps with Tatiana’s return being so imminent, I should take my leave. You don’t want to learn about her. I merely suggest that you to refer to her by her name which I would think she would like and you are refusing to. You’re not even willing to do that much so I am not going to waste my time even trying to help you. You don’t care.” Raven was not one to get overly emotional but she was irate at how he would not even say her name when he did not realise it was her. Angered, she walked out of the rooms without so much as another word.

Loki stood staring at the spot his maid had occupied a moment before, flabbergasted that anyone, much less an employee of the palace, would speak to him in such a manner. He did not know how to process what she said. He thought little of saying Princess Raven’s name yet his maid saw it as something to be concerned over. He thought it something farcical to get so bothered by yet she seemed almost hysterical at it. For a moment, he thought to put it down to some odd female thing but he stopped and knew better than to do so. He knew enough of anatomy to know that was a dismissal of genuine matters by lesser men who did not like women speaking to them in manners they disliked. Looking around, he waved his hand to clean his rooms using his seidr. Sometimes he wondered why he even had chamber staff, he could do everything he needed himself. It would cause far fewer issues if he had none. When he heard the chamber door open, for a brief moment, he thought it was the elf returning to apologise for her irrational behaviour but he recognised the heavy footfalls of his brother quickly. “Go away.”

“Brother, I see you are in a good mood after your news,” Thor goaded. Folding his arms, he smiled at his brother. “I am curious to know, what did you say to the poor elf that stormed out of here not a moment ago?”

“That is none of your concern,” Loki snarled. “What do you want?”

“If that is how you spoke to her, no wonder she rushed off, the poor thing.” Thor shook his head. “What did you say to her?”

“Again, that is not your concern.” Loki glared at him. “Why are you so bothered, anyway?”

Thor merely smirked in response. “Call it curiosity.”

Loki eyed him warily. “What do you know?”

“Many more things than you think. But in regards to that maid, I know that mother brought her to your rooms to have you learn something of elves before this marriage came about, and I think it is safe to say, you have learnt little to nothing of their sensitive nature.”

“Sensitive?”

“Yes, elves are sensitive. Have you been blinded to the anxiety you caused that poor elf as you made her feel so angered she had to run off?”

Loki did not respond.

Even though he knew that it would be farcical when Loki realised who the elf that was in his rooms the past few weeks was, Thor could not help the almost excited feeling he was getting at the idea of Loki’s strops causing him to get a comeuppance.

Raven moved her belongings out of her room with as much haste as she could. She had been told by Frigga that her new quarters were ready for her so changing out of the employee’s attire, she got her belongings together and moved them to her new room which was in the guest area. She knew there was little chance of Loki finding her there as he was not expecting her for another few days. She did not want to risk him coming to her room again and trying to talk to her. As it stood, she felt she needed to ready herself for what was to come and prepare for the life she was about to lead. Though she wanted to ignore a lot of his good attributes, she knew the only way to build an accurate analysis of her husband-to-be was to do so. She could not deny there was a kindness to him but that did not negate the downsides of his character too.

"Loki?” He sighed as he turned to face his mother. “Where is your maid?”

“I relieved her of her duties.”

“Is there a particular reason for such?” Frigga asked, feigning ignorance, long knowing that Raven was in her new quarters, having gotten one of her maids to tend to her for the next two days so that she would not be seen around the palace. “Was she not to your liking?”

Loki huffed a small scoff. “She was a tad, shall we call it, opinionated. I was under the impression elvish women were quiet.”

“I hope you did not speak in such a manner to her.” Frigga was beginning to regret her scheme of allowing Raven to get to know Loki as she did. “Loki…?”

“I was not so blunt but I did discuss the matter with her, also, due to her working here, I did not want her to be reprimanded elsewhere for such.”

Frigga signed and rolled her eyes, knowing that she would have to attempt to deal with the matter when she spoke to Raven, seeing that she would not have had much of a chance to see Loki’s more redeeming characteristics if this was how he treated her. “Oh, Loki.”

Loki studied his mother’s features carefully, noting the regret in her face. “Is this because you feel sorry for that elf having to endure me?” She looked at him plainly, no sign of emotions on her face. “Or is there something more?”

Frigga stared her son in the eyes at that comment. “I am embarrassed.” She declared. “I am embarrassed that you, Loki Odinson, my son, treated a woman so appallingly. I am embarrassed that come the arrival of the Light Elves in the next few days, there is a high chance that you will do so again.”

“I will not.” Loki retorted.

“How pray tell, am I supposed to believe that?” His mother challenged. “Norns, that poor girl. That poor elf, to think you treated her so. I only hope she can see past it.”

#Loki Fic #Hiding in plain sight #chapter 7 #wolfpawn

26 notes · View notes

lokilickedme · 4 years

Text

Well today was a shitshow. Sit down and lemme tell you a little story about trusting your gut when someone seems too fakey-nice to be real.

Actually you know what? - it’s a long story so let me just give you a quick rundown.

(under the cut because my quick rundown ended up slightly longer than “quick” - this is a massive vent with trigger warnings for dog attack, injured children, animal bites, police, and hospitals. Yeah, it’s been a goddamn HELL of a day)

Neighbors moved into the house next door maybe a year ago (it’s the house that inspired Hammer Of The Gods, just as an interesting side point) and the mom has always been one of those chirpy sunshiny waving-over-the-back-fence “call me anytime, I’ll bake cookies!” good neighbor types that make you feel a little bit unsettled, like, nobody can be that cheery and be for real, you know what I mean? But we’ve never seen any dark side peeking out so we’ve always just accepted it at face value and waved back and gone about our business, happy in the belief that we got a real good neighbor this time.

So - neighbor lady has this rotten little shit of a dog that we have hated since day one. We’re not dog haters, this is just a hellspawn beast that even Steve Irwin would want to euthanize. It barks constantly (sometimes all night), and it gets out of their yard and comes into ours to either 1) take a shit in Little’s sandpit, or 2) snarl and chase Little while he screams and cries. The kid is scared to go in his own back yard to play because he’s afraid of this shit dog even seeing him.

Neighbor knows this, has seen it happen, and always blows it off with a chirpy “Oh he just likes to roughhouse and play rough, you’ll be fine, he won’t hurt you!”

Yeah, no. You don’t let your animal come into MY yard and terrorize MY children. I have chased that beast off with rocks, the water hose, my own shoe more than once, and I stg if it hadn’t run off before I got back with the baseball bat there was one time when I likely would have killed the damn thing. My child is terrified of it and it goes out of its way to come onto our property to snarl at him and chase him. I’m not cool with that. But we haven’t complained because we’re scared to death of making enemies of this neighbor. Trust me, after the last people who lived in that house, we’re very anxious to stay friends with the ones in there now. So we did the good neighbor thing and kept the peace by keeping our mouths shut.

Well. Fast forward to tonight, after a year of putting up with that yappy vicious asshole. Little is out in the front yard, playing right in front of the front door of our house. He’s nowhere near their house or the fenceline to their yard, you can’t even see their front door from where he is. Two steps and he would be inside our house, that’s where he’s at. Absolutely ten THOUSAND percent nowhere near them or their house or their dog. Neighbor opens her front door to leave and this shithead comes tearing out of their house on a straight beeline for Little. It has to go all the way to the end of their front yard and around the end of the fence to even get into our yard, which means it had full intention of coming over here from the minute it got out of their house. And it’s snarling and barking the whole way, which scares the everloving shit out of Little, because he’s been chased by this hellhound countless times and he knows what’s coming. He immediately starts screaming and loses his damn mind to the point where he can’t think straight enough to turn around and run into the house, and he starts running in circles because, yeah, he’s a complete idiot when he’s scared, like most 8 year olds when being attacked by vicious animals. And this stupid dog is right behind him, snarling and barking like a rabid goddamn demon, and Little is screaming that horrified deep-chest kind of scream that stops mothers’ hearts.

I hear it all the way at the far end of the house, over the loud music I have playing. I’d already heard the dog but had assumed it was just barking through the fence like it always does. But that scream - god, I hate that scream. That scream is like a nightmare, you don’t want to hear it while you’re awake, ever.

So I run through the house and tear out onto the porch to see this dog straight up attacking my child. My child is trying to run but the dog has hold of the back of the calf of his left leg, and Little is practically dragging the thing and screaming his lungs out, but it won’t let him go. I slam the screen door open and scream BABY GET IN THE HOUSE!!!!! and bam, his brain kicks back in and he heads for me. I grab him and he’s trembling so hard I thought he was having a seizure.

Now comes the kicker. The neighbor lady is standing at the end of the fence, watching all this happen. She yells for the dog to come to her, but that’s all she does.

Now for an even bigger kicker. The teenage daughter is actually standing less than two feet away from Little and the dog when I get there, meaning she followed the dog into the yard but stood there and didn’t stop it when it started attacking him. She was simply standing there. I mean, I can sort of understand where she’s coming from on this, because she’s afraid of the damn dog herself. But if I were watching my dog attack a small child, you better bet your ass and everything attached to it that I would be putting myself between that dog and that child - or at the very least kicking the dog or trying to grab it by the collar, anything to protect the child. At least make a fucking effort.

Nope. She stood there. In my yard. Watching her dog attempt to maul my child. While the mother watched as well, from the safety of the end of the fenceline, while making one feeble attempt to yell for the dog to come.

Fuck them both.

So at this point I’ve grabbed Little and slammed the screen shut to keep the dog away, and the girl says “I’m so sorry!” and then just stands there looking at me like she’s expecting me to say it’s okay. I’m inspecting my still-screaming child and I find that his leg is bleeding and has fucking HOLES IN IT. I look through the screen at the teenager and say “IT BIT HIM!!!”

She just stands there. She obviously doesn’t know what to do, she keeps looking over at her mother. The mother never steps foot into the yard. Not a damn step.

Again, fuck her. I can forgive the teenager...but not the adult.

So my husband finally comes in from the back - up to this point he’s assumed the kids were just playing noisy and the neighbor’s dog was being a yappy little bitch from its own back yard like usual, but when I got Little into the house he finally realized those screams were serious and came running. I told him the dog bit Little in our yard, and he runs outside but the dog and both women are gone. He comes back in, confused about what’s happening, and I look him straight in the eye and say “That dog bit our kid, you do something.”

To his credit he snaps to action and runs out, heading straight over to the neighbors’ house to ask what the hell just happened. She’s trying to get in her car and leave in a hurry, so he stops her and she starts laughing and saying how the dog loves to “roughhouse” and she wished Little wasn’t scared of him so they could play. And husband, still not knowing what’s going on, has no choice but to let the woman get in her car and leave, but he asks her if the dog is current on its rabies shots and she says something to the effect of “I think so, we lost his tag” (husband was confused by the whole situation, bless him he’s no good at all in a crisis...that’s why he has me) and then she says she has to go and quickly gets the fuck out of Dodge.

When husband comes back in I tell him what I saw. Little recovers his wits enough to start talking and tells us everything. I clean the wound and hold him while we try to figure out what to do. ER? God, we were just in there a month ago when my eyeball exploded, we just got the bill for it a few days ago and have no idea how we’re going to pay it. We’re not even sure they’ll see us again with that visit still on the books unless we pay them something on arrival. But we’re going anyway, because this is our kid and we know we at the very least need to get this situation documented by someone official and make sure the bite doesn’t need care beyond what I can provide...but I need to know what to tell the ER crew when they ask if the dog has had its shots. I start texting the neighbor, I send her pictures of the bite so she knows this is serious and she needs to work with me, I ask for information on the dog’s vaccine status, and she...straight up ignores me. I text her again, making it clear that I need her to answer me ASAP because we’re likely going to the hospital and if I can’t tell them what they need to know, they’re going to be calling her.

A half hour goes by, and in the meantime I’m calling TeleHealth and googling shit as fast as I can, waiting for this woman to reply so we know what to do next, and when she finally responds she -

REFUSES TO GIVE ME ANY INFORMATION.

Yeah.

Two tries later - all I want is to know if the dog has had its shots, I even tell her she can just text me a picture of the dog’s collar tags or let me take a picture of its vaccine papers - and she comes back with “I don’t have any papers and his collar broke so the tags were lost.”

I realize at this point that there’s a reason why she won’t give me an answer and keeps evading. I text her again and say “Ticia I need you to tell me right now HAS THAT DOG HAD ITS SHOTS”

She waits a while, then replies with “My friend does the vaccines for me.” So I ask for the “friends” name and phone number so the hospital can call and get the information they need from them. She makes me wait a long time again, after which she finally comes back with “Tell the doctor to call me and I’ll tell him what he needs to know.”

Okay, this is pure bullshit now. One more try. “IS THAT DOG VACCINATED OR NOT, YES OR NO?”

She finally replies one last time, with just a single name, “Hubbs”.

I google it - it’s a vet clinic, Hubbs is the doctor. Wait, I thought she said her “friend” does it and there are no papers...? So I call the vet clinic, but by this time it’s after hours and they’re closed and my only option is to leave a message and beg them to call me first thing in the morning. Now I know why she waited so long in between replies...she was watching the clock. I give husband a quick rundown of what’s been happening and he says “That’s it, I’m calling her.”

He calls her. She doesn’t answer.

By this time I’m starting to cry and we’re both getting frantic. I get the kiddo calmed down enough to leave the room and I call my mother - yeah, I know, I’m supposed to be on Active Shun status with her, but this is an emergency and she has experience in the legal field (I do too, but her know-how is far more recent than mine) and there’s no way in hell she would refuse to help her grandbaby. She’s also the only level head I can think of at the moment. So I suck it up and make the call.

In spite of everything, she comes through for me. Lists off everything I need to be doing as far as documenting, getting him to the ER, filing a police report afterward if the neighbor decides to pull a vanishing act (the woman is out of town VERY frequently, sometimes we only see her once or twice a week so we know this is likely). While I’m on the phone with her, my husband is on the phone with his friend, who is a veterinarian in another state. Equine vet, but hey, they all have the same basic knowledge under their specialties. Vet friend says get him to the ER tonight, as in right now, and starts a massive spiel on the danger of waiting since rabies is a possible factor in this equation. Full panic is setting in now and I’m crying fullblown and vet friend is telling us to take him in NOW, we’re operating on a tight timeframe and rabies is something you don’t fuck around with and we do not want to cut it even remotely close.

So. We grab our masks and get gone. On the way to the ER I call the neighbor in one last ditch attempt to get something remotely useful information-wise from her. She answers on what had to be the fifteenth ring, I was just about to hang up when there’s finally a terse “Hello.” And while I’m breathlessly telling her we’re in the car on our way to the emergency room and I need to know if her damn dog has had its damn shots or my sweet little 8 year old boy is going to have to start a horrifically painful series of shots for something that likely isn’t even going to happen to him, she has the unmitigated BALLS to calmly and coldly say to me, “If I had that information I would have given it to you. I can’t do anything until tomorrow.”

Again...say it with me. FUCK. HER. She doesn’t even ask if he’s okay. Her attitude and tone make it clear that she’s considering this whole thing a waste of her time and she’s annoyed that I keep contacting her about it.

I hang up. Not gonna let that bitch hear me cry.

We get to the ER, I run inside with Little, husband and Big have to stay in the car because Covid regulations. We get temperature-checked at the door and then do the front desk check-in thing; it’s a quiet night and a small town thank god so we get taken to a room immediately, ER nurse asks what’s happened and I tell her.

She is PISSED. Informs me that they’re going to be calling the police and that I won’t have to do anything, the Sheriff’s Department will handle it all. She takes all Little’s stats, checks him over, then leaves to make the call.

Doctor comes in, super nice man, Dr Khan. He’s not happy about the situation either, tells us they’ll get the police involved on our behalf, verifies that the bite will be okay with some careful tending and a ten day round of antibiotics. He says since it’s highly unlikely a domestic pet is carrying rabies and this dog has a history of just being a bad tempered bitch, he’s not going to start Little on the horrific preventative treatment for the virus because it’ll likely be unnecessary - but that damn mutt IS going into quarantine and the CDC is being notified of the situation.

Husband texts me from the parking lot: COPS JUST PULLED UP. About three minutes later Deputy Bishop walks in and he’s ready to rumble because he’s already mad about the call being for a dog attack, and when he sees the victim - all 48 lbs of tiny skinny little blue-eyed blonde haired angelfaced Little - he’s furious. Takes all the information, asks a lot of questions, spends a lot of time with us, listens to Little, and then as he’s closing his notebook he tells me that he’s headed to neighbor’s house to inform her she’s in some shit now and she should have just cooperated with me from the start (yep I told him how she gave me the runaround). But since she didn’t extend even the slightest bit of human decency, her dog is being put on the “problem animal” watch list and I’m to call him immediately if she gives me any trouble at all, ever, about any of this.

She not only has to quarantine the dog for ten days, she has to report to the CDC. If she doesn’t comply, the dog will be taken by the authorities. She’s also in trouble for not maintaining proper records on the dog’s vaccinations (which I think is because the dog ISN’T vaccinated - why would she have given me such a yank job about it if it was? I straight up asked her FOUR TIMES “is the dog vaccinated” and she refused to give me a simple yes or no).

So it’s finally finished and we’re released from the hospital, and as we’re turning at the end of our street headed home we pass Deputy Bishop leaving neighbor’s house. Neighbor is out in her front yard, dragging her trash cans to the corner in the dark as we go into our house.

She never looks at us, never asks how Little is doing. Nothing. Pretends we aren’t even there. Her dog just fucking MAULED my kid, we’re literally just now home from the hospital because of it, we’re going to have an astronomical hospital bill, she could likely get SUED THE FUCK INTO OBLIVION AND BACK, she’s standing less than 20 feet away from us as we’re carrying the injured baby into the house...but she doesn’t even ask if the kid is okay.

This is where the learned lesson comes in. Remember that fakey-sunshiny-chirpy-friendly “I’m a great neighbor, you’re so lucky to have me!” shit I mentioned at the beginning? Yeah, we thought this lady was a super great person, we had nothing to make us think otherwise. Now we do. From the very first contact after the incident she attempted to make it our fault - said to me in one of the first texts that if we had a problem with her dog’s behavior we should have said so from the start (I had told her that the dog chased Little and snarled at him a lot, that this wasn’t the first time, and that she needed to make sure it was the last time). She immediately got uppity with me and turned it into our mistake for not saying something every time the dog acted up. Oh, okay, forgive us for trying to be good neighbors who don’t complain about everything. That’s where we went wrong here! Yeah it’s all our fault, sorry! You’re completely within your rights to keep a dangerous animal that hates children next door to a family with children and not do anything to keep it under control. Our bad, sorry to waste your time.

For the nth time...fuck her. People show their true colors when they feel threatened, and I feel like she knew she likely has a lawsuit coming...and if she felt threatened by the possibility of a lawsuit, that means she knows she’s guilty and deserves one.

So anyway...Little is going to be fine, physically. But he’s made it clear that he’s never going outside again. (Say it with me, class...FUCK HER). The shitty little dog has to be locked up for ten days, yay. Personally I wish they’d taken it away, but at least there’s 10 days where Little can go out in his own damn yard without fearing for his life - if I can convince him it’s safe and talk him into it. (Say it again...)

Tomorrow I talk to neighbor’s vet and get the truth, finally, about the damn thing’s shots (or lack thereof), and then I have to call our homeowner’s insurance and file a claim through them against neighbor’s insurance to try to get our hospital bill paid by her. Which, you know, probably wouldn’t even have been necessary if the woman had cooperated with me from the start. And then I get to start the long process of getting Little through his trauma and fear of ever going outside to play again. And in 3-5 days I get the joy of going down to the police department to pick up a copy of the report.

And, of course, we get to deal with the cold shoulder from a suddenly not-such-a-nice-person uncaring next door neighbor who obviously thinks we’re assholes because the hospital called the police and reported her while our son was bleeding in the emergency room with holes in his leg the size of her precious pet’s teeth.

I won’t ever fall for that fakey-nice act again, from anyone. My gut never truly believed she was as good as she pretended to be, and now I know my gut was right. She’s a mother...yet she couldn’t even muster up that fake sunshine long enough to find out if a child was going to be alright. A child whose injury and trauma were due to her negligence. To me that makes the deception a thousand times worse. She’s a goddamned mother and she flat doesn’t give a shit. She didn’t even pretend to.

Words can’t even go where my feels are at the moment.

39 notes · View notes

yandere-daze · 4 years

Note

Mista with 92, 89, and 100

Of course!! Thank you for the request!!

92. “I’ve known you for a lot longer than you think.”

89. “This world doesn’t deserve someone as sweet as you.”

100.” I will kiss you until your lips bleed. Just let me have this, I wanted to do this for so long. “

Yandere! Mista with prompts 92,89 and 100

You were a barista at a cozy little café in the streets of Naples. For the most part you were perfectly happy with your job- you had nice coworkers, received reasonable payment and you liked serving the customers.

Today was just another regular day at your job. It was nearly 2 o´clock and the morning shift had been going along smoothly so far, when the tiny bell at the door chimed, indicating that another customer had entered the coffee shop. Looking up from the counter, you studied his appearance a bit while he approached the counter. You definitely hadn´t seen him here before, you would have immediately recognized someone that dressed as flashy as this guy. He wore a blue crop top with white stripes while his legs were adorned with bright red pants that in turn had wavy black stripes on them. Finishing off his rather unique look, he wore a red beanie-like hat that covered up most of his hair, that you could only assume was black. He looked nice enough as he finally came to stop in front of you, a dorky grin on his face.

“Good day sir, what would you like to order?”, you asked while keeping a practiced but inviting smile on your face.

“There´s no need to be that formal with me, y/n! Sir? Just call me Mista!”, he exclaimed while grinning at you from ear to ear.

“Of course, Mista then!”, with the new familiarity you let your professional smile shift into a more genuine one. But then you noticed something that made your stomach churn in a strange kind of way. “Um sorry I don´t mean to accuse you of anything but how come you know my name? I haven´t introduced myself yet and I don´t believe we have met before, or am I wrong?”. You just had to know.

With this, Mista seemed to grow a bit nervous, his eyes shifting and a drop of sweat forming on his face. Was your bad feeling right then? Was something off about this man?

Then Mista´s gaze focused on you again and his eyes lit up in realization, a shaky smile forming on his lips. “You see- “, he raised his finger to point at your chest area, his other hand rubbing at the back of his head, “your name is written right there! On that name tag of yours! I thought because I gave you mine it would only be appropriate to call you by your name as well!”

A wave of relief then washed over you. You really had just been worried about nothing. Living in a city with such high criminal activity just made you way to suspicious it seemed.

“All right, sorry about that! May I take your order then…Mista?” Seemingly happy about the new familiarity, the black-haired man eagerly placed his order then.

After this little encounter, Mista became a regular customer at the café and spent more and more time talking to you there. When he first only got coffee-to-go he now usually sat down at a table near the counter, engaging in pleasant conversation with you, thus often letting his coffee grow cold from talking too much. He never touched his cup of coffee when speaking with you, seemingly completely lost in your conversation, often making lame jokes or telling you about his very exiting “adventures” as he liked to call them. He took down a group of six men all on his own? Sure thing! You didn´t really believe any of the crazy stories he told you, thinking them too ridiculous to be true, but you liked listening to them all the same. Other than that, he seemed to share a lot of your hobbies! Whenever you decided to open up about one of your many interests, he was already listing all his favorite things about it. It was like he wasn´t even surprised by anything you said anymore but liked to just hear you talk. It was honestly kind of comforting to have someone you could just vent at, him listening to you anyway.

There was only one problem. Whenever you had to leave his table to attend to another customer you had to physically pry Mista´s arms off you with how tense he suddenly grew. On top of that, there was always some kind of sad or even pouty look on his face when you had to get up. You didn´t know how to feel about this particular behavior of his and even more so when your coworkers started to tease you about how much time you spent with him, asking if there was something going on between the both of you. You always fervently denied any kind of relationship you two might have, your coworkers not believing a word you were saying and Mista growing an actually kind of scary look on his face.

It was at the end of one of your usual shifts when things started to escalate. You had just finished closing up the shop and were heading back home, when you felt a pair of eyes pierce into your back. Turning your head to look behind you, you soon found the source of your unease. You saw Mista, jogging up to you with a very uncharacteristic look on his face. He actually looked kind of nervous to you? Wondering what he might have to say to you, you slowed down until you came to a screeching halt, waiting for him under the nearest streetlight. After catching up to you, Mista needed a few moments to regain his breath, seemingly worn out. After catching his breath and shakingly getting up from his hunched-over position, he started to speak up.

“Alright so sorry for stopping you when it´s already so late but there´s something I wanted to ask you y/n..”, now nervously rubbing the back of his head with his left hand, continued: “So I was just wondering…if you maybe wanted to go out for dinner sometime? I just really felt a connection when talking to you.”

But even though he was looking at you so hopefully right now, you had to turn him down. You just didn´t feel the same. “Mista, I´m really sorry but I have to decline. You´re a really great guy and I love talking to you but I don’t think there could be anything more than that. I´m just not looking for a relationship right now.”, you apologized. You felt bad about it but you didn´t want to give him any false hopes.

Mista however, didn´t seem to appreciate your answer at all. Tilting his head he retorted: “Come on y/n, just give us a chance! I know this might have come abruptly but I really do love you! We´re perfect for each other!”

Now you were getting a bit agitated. Why can´t he just accept your decision?

“No Mista, I´m serious. I just don´t think there´s any potential for us. I don´t feel that way about you! Please just accept my decision! Also how can you already tell that we´re perfect for each other?! We´ve barely known each other for a few days! How can you say you love someone that you barely know?” Okay, you were realizing that your tone of voice was getting a little too harsh but you really just wanted him to get the point. You were perfectly fine with staying as friends after this but first this needed to get through his seemingly thick skull.

However after saying that Mista actually started to….chuckle? Was this funny to him now? Was he just pulling a tasteless prank or something? What was going on now?

“Oh my sweet, sweet y/n. My little darling… I’ve known you for a lot longer than you think. I´ve been standing outside the coffee shop, just looking trough the windows and watching you work for months now! I watched your every move, saw each one of your smiles and realized that you were the one for. The ache to see you was growing too strong so I had to finally show myself to you on that one fateful day. And I almost blew my cover too! I was so excited that I said your name before you even introduced myself! I was so panicked that time but you managed to forgive me so it´s all good now.”

“What. What are you talking about??Are you crazy?! That´s crazy!! Please just leave me alone! You´re really starting to creep me out right now!” Absolutely terrified, you started to back away. That man… you didn´t feel safe anymore. Was he even listening to himself talk??

“I´ll show you just how much I love you and then everything will be okay! You will feel the same as me!”, Mista cooed and started to lean in. Seeing this, you took two steps back. You didn´t want this. “Please! Just leave me alone!”, you cried out.

That seemed to do something because for just a minute, Mistas´s usually dorky face grew dead serious as he grabbed you by your shoulders.

“Please don´t struggle, amore. I will kiss you until your lips bleed. Just let me have this, I wanted to do this for so long. “

He then leaned in, forcing you into a heated kiss, feverishly moving his lips against your own as if his life depended on it. Pushing his tongue between your lips and initiating an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue easily coming out as victorious in your little fight over dominance. A fight you didn´t want nor participated in.

After what seemed like an eternity to you, he finally pulled away while holding you in his arms. He looked so damn…happy while you just felt miserable.

And as if to make matters even worse, your face paled as you felt the press of something against your back. Slightly shifting your head, you identified the mysterious object as a gun that Mista was holding in his right hand.

“What- what are you going to do to me now? Are you just going to shoot me now after declaring your love for me and molesting me?”. You couldn’t believe this was happening. After everything went wrong that could go wrong, you were now going to die? This wasn´t how you imagined your day to go.

But Mista just shook his head while letting out a low chuckle.

“Don´t be silly amore, I wouldn’t ever dream of hurting you. But others are not the same. People are cruel. This world doesn’t deserve someone as sweet as you. I will keep you safe from all these cruel people don´t you worry. I just thought that judging from your previous behavior you wouldn´t quite agree with me yet, so I had to do something to convince you. Now please be a darling and follow my directions without causing a scene. I wouldn´t want to break my promise now, would I?”

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

I´m actually really proud of this one!! I´ve never written something this long but I just got really carried away with this one oops!

Hope you like it!!

128 notes · View notes

novantinuum · 5 years

Text

Shattering Atlas (a corrupted!Steven one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (TW: depression and body horror)

Words: 4.2K~

Summary: A boy can only carry an entire galaxy upon his back for so long before the weight of it all finally becomes too much.

Folks, here it is! I’m finally finished. AO3 link to be posted in the reblogs.

Disclaimer: This is absolutely far darker and more drastic than I believe canon would EVER tread if this theory had the faintest chance of being anywhere close to the truth, but sometimes you just feel like being super angsty for angst's sake, y'feel? It was an interesting writing experiment nonetheless. Not gonna lie, this is kinda a vent piece. Please do heed those tags. This delves into some difficult territory both mentally and otherwise, as it's written entirely from Steven's POV.

_____

Steven knows he’s messed-up.

It’s not something he tries to advertise to all the sweet, innocent people who somehow after all this time still choose to stand by his side, but he can’t lie to himself. Spending a significant chunk of your childhood actively doubting your own personhood shatters you in ways no amount of unconditional love can ever hope to mend. And sure, he’s not his mom. He knows that. Been there, had the mental breakdown, seen it, done it. The proof’s in his gem half. He knows. But as much as everyone in his life coddles him, gently tries to reassure him while he tirelessly works day and night to realign the foundation of an entire ancient civilization...

“You’re almost an adult now, isn’t that exciting?”

“Don’t worry about the future, the futures I see for you are as limitless as they are bright.”

“Take a break if you need to, ‘kay? You totally deserve one, little man.”

“Y’know, Schtu-ball, the wonderful thing about adulthood is that you can choose to fly wherever the wind takes you!”

...it’s clear none of that matters anyways. Because it’s not true, not for him. Because beyond his identity as a Crystal Gem, beyond that bottomless desire for belonging he’s been chasing all his life, ever since the fateful moment early in his childhood in which he finally realized— small, pudgy hands clutching at the oversized hand-me-down shirt right over the pink hand-me-down gem in his belly— that he isn’t like anyone else and never will be, the truth is that he genuinely doesn’t know what he wants. Who he is.

Everyone else does.

Connie has plans. Hopes, dreams. A future. She’s already thinking about college, and aims on double majoring in political science and environmental science. (A combination only she’s daring enough to pursue, but if anyone’s got the drive to succeed in that it’s her.) Dad’s still manager for Sadie Killer and the Suspects, and they’re going strong. Amethyst has been playing tour guide to all her fellow Prime sisters lately, galavanting with them all around planet Earth. Garnet is currently on the search for terrified cross-fusion Gems still in hiding across the galaxy. Pearl, Bismuth, and a number of the boardies have spearheaded a campaign to help slowly teach and integrate the humans of the Zoo into modern day society. Lapis and Peridot recently built another barn in the outskirts of Little Homeworld, and are enjoying each other’s company.

But him? When all is said and done, as the restructured Gem society stabilizes and soon no one will need him for anything anymore, when Gems and humans alike stop knocking on his metaphoric door with handfuls of their problems for him to drop everything and solve, he has nothing left. He’s no one. No future, no clue. He’s been drained empty.

He’s just drifting through life with the parking break on, continuously waiting— his nerves jittering at every quiet moment— for the next big crisis to crash into his universe and drop feed him even the tinniest shard of purpose.

After all, what is one to do when they’ve spent their entire life training to save the world, but the world has already been saved?

_____

He can’t recall exactly when his current predicament began anymore.

Time’s been hard to keep track of as of late— the days and weeks blending together in an incomprehensible fashion— and yet simultaneously, he might as well have lived a lifetime in the span of the blink of an eye. That being said, he’s pretty sure his most recent gem troubles didn’t truly kick into gear until after the incident with the, erm... cactus monstrosities.

He genuinely didn’t mean to hurt anyone, he didn’t. He only wanted to help... to heal. To try and repair but a shred of the damage Homeworld wrought on this innocent world. It worked when Earth was poisoned, so it should work in the Kindergartens too, right?

Wrong. Very wrong.

His stomach churns as he catches a glimpse of a silly photo of Peridot and himself hanging on the wall by the stairs. A static monument to his shame. Lapis is (still, days later— or is it weeks?) taking care of her gemstone at this very moment, sure, but remembering what happened before that... holding Peridot’s cracked gem in his quivering hands, biting back cries of hopelessness as he ran to the nearest warp pad, escaping from the malformed, hurting creatures born of his own magic... it‘s the kind of horror that he’s sure will linger in his dreams for a long time yet.

It’s like he’s broken. Like his powers just aren’t coming as naturally to him anymore. It’s not quite like that time with the rejuvenator. There’s no sickly glow flickering in and out of existence. No external force acting upon it. No, it’s deeper than that. It’s not a gem sourced problem, it’s him. He’s just... wrong. He’ll try to use his healing ability and it’ll backfire, he’ll summon his bubbles and shields but they’re noticeably less durable, he’ll birth life from his very soul and it’ll grow bitter and corrupt, every bit a mirror of his present mental state. He’ll jump up high in the sky to burn out years of repressed stress in semi-peace and before he can actually do so gravity will grab ahold of him like he’s a petulant, disobedient child and drag him back to the shore. It makes him want to scream, to grind his fingers into the sand so hard his knuckles go white as he sobs out every last one of his stupid, meaningless frustrations, but instead his house is always swarming with people, and his bedroom has no real door, (and he’s too embarrassed to ask for one), and in sum he can never find enough time alone to freely be his genuine messed-up self. It’s fine, though. He doubts he’s capable of crying at this point anyways.

“Dude, you okay?” Amethyst asks with brows furrowed in concern, snapping him back to reality.

His GameStation controller rests precariously in his loose grasp, entirely forgotten in the previous moment. The game they’re playing is paused. He must have blanked out again, and completely ruined their co-op fight. He lets out a shaky breath as he tightens his fingers around the plastic grips, digging into them as if they’re his sole handle on reality.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says swiftly, plastering a smile on his face with the ease of someone who’s been growing adept at this endless charade for months and months. “Didn’t sleep too well last night. Muscle cramps from training, y’know?”

He watches her closely, catalogues every minute shift in her features. Her eyes narrow so slightly that anyone else might’ve missed it. But he doesn’t. He’s observant. He’s gotta be. It’s the only way he’s kept going for this long, the only way he can ensure no one else knows. They don’t need any more worry. Regardless, Amethyst’s lack of subtlety betrays her, because it’s clear she’s searching his expression and body language right back. His chest pounds. Hastily, he holds up the controller, feeling his face go pale under her scrutiny.

Geeze, how pathetic.

No matter how hard he tries to mask it, he‘s already falling apart.

“So... we gonna play another round, or?” Right as he says this, his stomach chooses to let out an inopportune gurgle. He bites at the insides of his cheeks, inwardly cursing at the bad timing.

It’s thankfully enough to divert Amethyst’s attention from... other matters, though.

“Yo. Ste-man. Your stomach’s straight up monologuing. Have you even eaten today?”

He dimly considers this as he tries not to focus on how empty and faint his body currently feels, mind turning to fuzz. “Uhh...”

She frowns, and promptly pulls herself to her feet. “Yeah, so I’m gonna take that as a no. I’ll be right back, ‘kay? Gonna get us some cheese!” she declares bombastically, putting on a mock announcer voice.

He watches her leave his room, prancing downstairs like she doesn’t have a care in the world. A faint huff of sheer relief passes through his nostrils. Absentmindedly, his thumbs jiggle the controller’s joystick, unable to strike the earlier image of Amethyst— concern engulfing her usually carefree self— from his mind. He really should be more careful about what he says. How he acts.

He honestly couldn’t live with himself if he slipped up and became yet another emotionally taxing problem for them to deal with. Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl... all his family, his friends. They deserve peace. They deserve to be satisfied, they deserve their happily ever after. They certainly don’t deserve him, self-destructing all over the bright and shining future they’d won.

Or nearly shattering them.

Putting them in needless danger, danger that’s all his fault, because he’s broken.

His throat grows tight, airway constricted, images of black beady eyes, razor sharp fangs, and malformed limbs invading his thoughts, clawing away at insecurities long scabbed over until they ooze a bitter red. Peridot’s shrill yelp as she’s overtaken in an instant. That dreadful, immediately recognizable sound, a cracking Gem, seared onto his heart for the rest of time.

He... he can’t deny it anymore. His magic’s gone toxic. He’s toxic, bringing suffering and decay where once he brought healing. All his Gem powers are fading, maybe forever. And with them fading, he’ll soon be of no use to anyone, and when they realize why they faded they won’t want him around anyways, and y’know, it’s probably for the better they’ll have a concrete reason to finally push him away. He’s not stupid. He’s always known what an emotionally taxing strain he’s been on everyone, ever since the day Mom died for him to be born.

Steven grips the controller so hard that his fingers grow numb, mind stewing in the dark fantasies of what he’d like to do with himself when he’s left behind for good.

And then... his heart leaps in his throat as he dimly hears Amethyst begin to whisper to the others (they’re back? They’re back?? When did they return, why didn’t you notice them, how could you just miss—) downstairs.

“Y’guys,” he hears her say frantically, under her breath, “I think we really gotta talk with Steven. Something’s seriously wrong, and he won’t tell me what.”

“What, you mean to say he’s in danger? Garnet, do you see anything?”

“Hmm. I don’t foresee any external threats to Steven’s safety in the near future, but...”

“Amethyst, he’s clearly still upset about Peridot. And once she reforms in a few days, when she’s ready, he’ll be fine! Trust me.“

“No, trust me, I genuinely think this is more than just Peridot! It’s getting me super worried. He hasn’t been eating like he should, y’guys. I don’t think he’s showered in days. Sometimes it’s like he’s... I dunno, like, he isn’t even fully present. And y’know, thinking about it now? It’s been like this for a while. Since before all the cactus stuff.”

“Well, if he doesn’t want to talk about it, I’m not sure how we could—“

“We need to call Greg over,” Garnet interrupts Pearl, a new, thinly veiled panic rising in her voice. “Right now.”

His eyes stretch open wide.

Oh.

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no... Not here, not now, not— please, not now!

His breath hastens, his body outright shaking now. He curls tight into himself, the game controller dropping from his slackened fingers onto the floor as he clutches his knees to his chest. Sweat beads in droplets on his forehead. He outright yanks at his hair.

Amethyst, she can’t just waltz downstairs and!—

I don’t want to—

Peridot, getting cracked, I- it’s all my fault and she didn’t—

I- all of this- I’m so useless, careless, l- I’m losing my mind, what’s even wrong- why are you panicking!- I don’t—

T-they can’t know, they can’t know, they CAN’T—

He can’t fully bite back his cries as his gem flares burning hot, a rush of pure, unadulterated agony spiking through his hard light veins in an indescribably eternal split-second, the very experience of hypocrisy. Every single muscle in his body seizes. His ears ring, filled with a cacophonous clamor of sound that slashes through his mind with the deadly force of a long blade. Crippling. Debilitating. All-consuming. Hell. This is hell. Because then his head is pounding, and his limbs are all weak and shaky, and for a moment he’s bathed in a faint wash of pink, the glow enveloping him like his own corona of sickness as he succumbs to the pain he’s sequestered inside, bitterly festering for all these years.

Hell eventually recedes, both its note and its physical touch, but the dark clouds looming over his mind do not. Slowly, he loosens his grip on his curls, trying desperately to bring balance to his breathing. His ears are still ringing. His head is still cotton. Questions abound. For instance: what on Earth was that?? Stars, is something else wrong with his gem now, too? Thoroughly disorientated, he yanks up the hem of his shirt.

“Steven?!” Pearl calls frantically from downstairs, right as his trembling fingers gently trace the exposed facets of his gem. “Are you okay up there?”

He squints, features compressing in his sheer confusion. Visually, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. No imperfections, no flickering light, nothing. So then what’s—

“Hey, Steven? Yo?? You, uh- maybe wanna come eat downstairs, or?”

A shudder runs clear through his form, starting from his gem and coursing outwards to the furthest extremities. He grits his teeth as he rides through the stabbing discomfort, clutching at his stomach. It’s like he’s about to vomit. Sure, so maybe he was really hungry before, and maybe that has a little to do with what he’s experiencing now, but... this... still doesn’t feel right. Spots swim in his vision as he glances down again.

And that’s when he sees it, slowly creeping across the skin of his bare forearm as clear as day.

It’s a patch of dull, pinkish hide. Not human skin, hide. He runs his index finger along its perimeter, all of reality screeching to a halt as his brain performs somersaults in a desperate last-ditch attempt to contextualize the information his eyes are sending him right now.

“What?” he whispers in disbelief, (even though he has a few terrifying theories), frantic heartbeat pounding in his ears like a drum.

“I’m checking on him,” Garnet says, just loud enough that he knows for certain she intends him to hear. Solid footsteps creep across the floorboards, advancing towards the foot of the stairs.

It’s frankly impressive how fast a single stimulus can turn panic to outright paranoia.

He almost trips over himself diving to retrieve his jacket off the floor, forcing his arms through the sleeves faster than any of the Gems could ever summon their weapons. Hide it. Hide it away. They can’t see you, they can’t know you’re corru- NO! Stop.

Bathroom. He needs to get to the bathroom.

His bare feet solidly connect with the floor, toes curling inwards as he shudders again. A pulsing ache settles into the bones of his skull. Then a prickle at his neck. Reflexively, he slaps his hand against the affected locale. There’s another spot steadily growing there.

Alone, NOW.

The whole world’s spinning as he turns on his heels and flies across the length of his bedroom— sprinting past the TV, shoving past Garnet, who’s already halfway up the open stairwell, and leaping clear over the couch from midway down the last set of steps. (Everyone’s shouting in blind panic as he enters their sight. Fear. Needless, unwanted worry. Calling his name, calling for peace, but his ears are still ringing and their voices are overlapping and he can’t distinguish any of it.) When he reaches the bathroom his hand grips the knob so hard that the metal almost crumples under his force, and he swings himself through the doorway, slams it shut, and turns the lock with pink-splotched fingers faster than any one of the Gems can move to stop him.

For a split moment, things are okay. He’s alone. Moreover, he’s safe.

(But are you really?)

His head is pounding again, the pulsing at his temples soon coalescing into a constant inescapable misery. Letting his eyes flutter shut, he lets his forehead lull against the door. Flexes his knuckles, imagines the splotches disappearing from sight as easily as eye bags under makeup. He tries to calm his breathing in the meditative way Garnet once showed him. In for four counts... and out. In... and out. Come on, just ride it out, Universe. You’re a Gem- a diamond, for cripe’s sake! Control it. Conceal. Move on.

“Steven?!” Amethyst calls from outside. “Please talk to us, what’s goin’ on?”

"Whatever it is, you don't have to be alone!" Pearl adds. He doesn't even have to see her face to know that she's crying.

A renewed burst of panic spikes through his veins at this realization.

“Stop worrying about me, I’m fine!” he bites back on impulse.

“No, you’re NOT!” Amethyst hollers, and then... after a thoughtful pause, her tone softening: “I- I know you’re not.”

He stares down at his hands, brows threading together, watching as the patch of hide continues to inch across his skin. The genuine concern interlaced in every syllable of her speech is enough to make his gut churn with guilt.

“Steven, I... stars, I know you probably overheard me talking to everyone jus’ a second ago, and I know I probably betrayed every scrap of trust we ever had ‘coz of that, and I wanna say I’m sorry, but I can’t just stand aside and watch you treat yourself like garbage. Please, the door’s jammed. Let us in. We just wanna help!”

His lip quivers, despite himself. “I don’t need any help!” he insists, stubbornly pushing past the crack in his voice. “I’m just—“

He’s interrupted by a rush of crippling agony radiating upwards from his gem once more, the ache at either side of his head intensifying into three points. Hands rush to the site on automatic. Fingers grasping, searching. Discovering.

There’s something growing at his temples, he realizes with a rush of horror. Something hard, faceted. Disturbingly cold to the touch.

There’s no way to bite back his screams as the growths fully protrude, none at all, even with his mouth clamped shut, and even though he can’t see them he can sense their weight as they wind upwards and back, up and out of his curls, and he’s shaking, oh stars is he shaking, chest heaving up and down so hard he’s not sure he’ll ever be free of these awful tremors ever again, and— A hoarse sob forces its way to the surface as a third growth crowns his forehead. Trembling fingers scrape down the length of the door as he collapses to his knees, nails sharpening into gnarled talons as they sink further and further into the wood, carving through it like butter. He clenches his jaw back together so hard that with any greater pressure he might shatter his own teeth.

Still quite woozy under the threat of hyperventilation, he slowly turns his head. Extricates those dreadful claws from the door. Dares himself to look. Forcing himself back up to his feet, he gazes deep into the depths of the mirror. And as the creature trapped on the other side stares back through sickeningly pink irises— blotches of color steadily creeping up their jawline and across their cheek, inching to meet the base of those glistening crystalline horns— all known reality shatters into smithereens.

Not me, not me, not me, is the mantra he chants to himself like a prayer, stubbornly clinging to any vestige of normalcy as if this is all but a vivid nightmare he can stir awake from.

(As if deep down, a tiny, beaten-down part of himself still wants to believe he deserves a future too.)

But the darkness reflected in that mirror is following his every jerky, erratic movement as all the despair and guilt and self-hatred festering within continues to consume him like a matchstick to fire.

Not real. It’s not real! I don’t need help. I don’t need the Gems, they don’t need to know, I’m fine, I’m FINE, this isn’t corru - NO, DON’T THINK ABOUT IT! YOU CAN’T—

They’re yelling outside. Arguing, probably. (And true to form, Pearl‘s cries are the shrillest.) But he can’t be certain of anything anymore while smothered under the fog’s thickening surface, with the rest of the world relegated to mere static and stimuli. Not a word, not a clue. No way to know if it’s an argument about him or with him.

And in his mind their distress stands as yet another sign. Just another slice of proof that they truly are at their happiest without him, that his continued existence only serves as a complication. He can’t deny it anymore. He can’t lie, can’t tiptoe around the inevitable truth; like this, he’s nothing but a liability. A ticking time bomb, set to shatter everything and everyone in his path. Shaking like a leaf, he unfurls his fists, watching as the dull pink hide overtakes the last clear patches of flesh upon his misshapen, monstrous fingers.

They’re better off without you.

The passing seconds cease to exist as he convulses again, this time centralized at the base of the spinal column. He doubles over, leans into the pain. Rides it through vertebrae by vertebrae, raking his claws deep into the wood floor as a fifth limb emerges from where the spine left off, steadily lengthening— fortifying itself with jagged crystalline spikes as it grows ever longer. Its weight is entirely foreign, yet it shifts upon his slightest command. Panic overruling all logic once more, he thrashes about, the tail swinging across the bathroom counter like a whip. His toothbrush, comb, and other various toiletries he hasn't made use of in days clatter to the floor, abandoned.

R u n.

The thought rampages through his shattered soul like an avalanche. Yanks him by the horns. Consumes his mind and body like a trance. He has to escape from here, from the house, the Gems, has to run quick, before it’s too late and you can’t do anything more but wordlessly scream.

He doesn’t stop to question this impulse. Doesn’t stop to peer at that poor tortured creature in the mirror again. For a moment his claws struggle to grasp the crumpled door knob, fumbling in failure’s wake.

When he finally forces the door open, the whole world holds its breath.

Pearl’s eyes blow wide upon the no-doubt horrifying sight. Her hands fly to her mouth. “Steven?!”

Even Amethyst reacts in an adverse manner, stepping back towards the support of the wall. “Holy...” she breathes, face paling.

And just knowing he’s out here now, every gnarled, nightmarish feature exposed in front of his family like a raw nerve, makes his blotchy, spot-covered skin crawl.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME, I’m FINE!” he hollers as he sprints to the warp pad, barbed tail whipping wildly behind him. Pearl yelps in alarm as she only barely dodges its mace-like swing. Unable to hold back his sobs anymore, he collapses to his knees on the hard crystal. Coils his tail around himself by sheer instinct. Hides his face away behind arms. Hot tears spill from his eyes, vision blurring and sharpening in rhythm to the unbearable ache pounding in his head. “I’m fine,” he whispers pathetically, voice catching.

He can practically feel the vibrations through the floor as someone approaches. It’s Garnet. He doesn’t know how he knows, but it can only be her. His breath hastens against his better wishes. Can’t stop, won’t stop, can’t stop... The vision of the temple door begins to pirouette in dizzy circles around him as he arches his back, and with a sharp gasp feels something tear its way through his shirt and jacket right above his spine, all jagged and spiked and— NO! He grinds his jaw together, shrinking further into himself. Not real. It’s not real, not real, not—

“Steven,” she says in a measured tone as he heaves for air. (No, with hesitation. Fear. She’s hesitating because she’s afraid of you, she’s afraid because you’re a monster NO.) “I know you’re hurting, but I need you to take a deep breath with me, and try to calm down. Please, let us help you...”

A heart wrenchingly familiar hand reaches out to him, adorned by a ruby gem and a golden wedding band. His fingers clamp around thick, greasy curls, brushing against the horns protruding from his temples. A keening cry slips out from his mouth against his better wishes. They want to help. They only want to help...

He peeks at her through the crook of his arm, his most likely reddened, blotchy eyes meeting hers. She’s taken off her visor. She’s crying too.

For a glimmer of a second, he considers reaching out. Taking her offered hand with his own clawed one. But then...

Haven’t you been a burden enough already?

His face screws up, and his hands clench into fists.

“NO,” he shouts, slamming them down upon the warp pad. It activates, (blessedly still accessible at this early stage of corruption NO don’t think about it!!), glowing a bright cyan as he envisions where he wants to go: no particular destination in his mind but away, away, away.

After all, he already knows he’s a monster.

So... he might as well become one too.

_____

Notes:

Some days you just gotta have an entire mental breakdown and go full wyrm, y'hear?

HCs I tapped into for this fic:

After being healed, formerly cracked Gems take longer to reform than Gems who were only poofed. Peridot will be okay eventually, she just hasn’t reformed quite yet.

Steven is still able to warp because he hasn’t quite passed the threshold of corruption that prevents a Gem from accessing the warp stream. I imagine it's very much a matter of mental connection, and having the right presence of mind to tap into it. Probably a few minutes after this, if Steven were to continue going downhill and his mind fully fell into the fog of corruption, he’d no longer be able to warp. He got super lucky here.

This potential future blindsided Garnet because previously- like how Steven’s newfound maturity threw her off as discussed in Pool Hopping- she hadn’t factored in the idea of Steven being in such a low mental state. Amethyst was the first to really see past his attempts to mask it because she personally had dealt with depression like this before and knew what it looked like.

Maybe one day after SUF airs I'll write more on this topic, but as for now this will remain a one-shot. I 100% imagine Steven would ultimately be okay in this timeline, though. They'd be able to help him, stop the corruption. Steven goes to heckin' therapy. He'll live on, he'll begin to recover and cope. But that's a whole 'nother story.

Thank you for reading!

#su #su future #steven universe #corrupted steven theory #su fanfic #garnet #amethyst #pearl #su fanfiction #corrupted steven #corrupt!steven #body horror #my writing stuff #the mighty 500

960 notes · View notes

skinsharpenedteeth · 4 years

Link

it’s some angst and smut time y’all! You can read it here or on AO3. AO3 includes tags such as drunk sex, mildly dubious consent and smut! I’m too lazy to re-list them all here. Just know everyone’s of legal age to be fucking each other up.

So without further ado, here’s 8+k of Malex during the interim years between high school and S1.

The sun had been brutal that day. Every time he’d touched a surface besides his own skin, he’d felt like he was being blistered from the heat. It left his fingers feeling raw and all he wanted was some relief from the onslaught of fire and light. It didn’t help that an awareness kept nagging at him, like a lead balloon settling to ground in his stomach, making him cranky and on edge on top of dealing with the sweltering desert sun. The feeling was familiar enough for him to recognize that he’d had it before, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly and that made him irritable as much as the sweat stinging his eyes did. Usually, he’d be able to hide away somewhere during the hottest part of the afternoon to drink a cold one and take some time to meditate on his feelings, but that day Sanders had been around and ready to fire him if he didn’t finish a certain car before end of business. Consequently, Michael felt wrung out and thin skinned by the time he’d stumbled into the Wild Pony to drink himself into a giddy stupor. Maybe he’d find some trouble tonight if he was lucky. Maybe the buzzing in his brain would shut up if he poured enough tequila onto it. Maybe he’d even ask for ice in his whiskey to cool him off.

Michael felt his feet scrape the packed dirt of the Wild Pony parking lot as he drug himself still grease stained and damp from sweat into the dark, cool bar before the sun had even set. The car he’d worked on wasn’t a hard job, but it was a heavy one that took far too much effort and time and his body felt beat up at the end of it. Once he’d slammed the finished invoice on Sanders’ desk, he’d grabbed his hat off the rack and his truck keys, hightailing it straight to the bar with barely a look backwards.

The bar was almost empty in the early afternoon except for a handful of other afternoon regulars. Drunks that didn’t have day jobs or only worked enough to get money to pay for their place on the bar stool. Michael didn’t ever want to be like them, but he also recognized that a corner stool was open and looked inviting to the mean gremlin in the back of his mind. He shook his head and turned to survey all the open spots in the building, enjoying the blast of A/C that hit him as soon as the door had opened. It felt like walking into a meat locker it was so crisp and cool. That would change as the bodies piled in for beer and pool and the ever-constant search for companionship, but right now it felt like the North Pole on a winter morning. He waved towards Mimi DeLuca at the bar and sidled over to a booth along the wall where the air-conditioned vent would hit him straight in the face. As he sat down he sighed long and hard, letting contentment wash over him as the anticipation of being pleasantly blitzed later settled in his mind.

“Long day, cowboy?” Mimi asked, setting down a water on the coaster in front of him and eyeing him up and down. She wasn’t flirting, he knew, but just scrutinizing what kind of drunk he was going to be today. They’d done this dance a lot since he’d become legal and actively self-destructive.

“The longest. Give me five shots of your cheapest tequila,” he ordered, grinning at her disapproving look. She nodded and walked back towards the bar without a word though. She’d long since stopped trying to mother him over how he decided to destroy his body. He wasn’t worth her time and both of them knew it.

Michael slunk down on the bench seat and closed his eyes, enjoying the cool air on his face while he waited for Mimi to get back. The pleather of the seat creaked under body and he extended his legs out under the table and propped them on the empty seat across from him. He could almost fall asleep like that, his body ready to forget the tequila and just dream for a couple hours. If he thought that were a real possibility, he’d leave with his money and go back to the Airstream to do just that, but sleep never came easy to Michael. He could be so tired he’d be weeping with the desire to just not be for a little while and his brain would hum along with one mistake or memory after another until he sought an alternative route to Slumberland. He jerked when Mimi came back and set down his shots. He hadn’t been asleep, but he’d found that meditative half-consciousness that fueled him through most of his life.

“That’s twenty-five,” she let him know, waiting for him to dig out his wallet from his back pocket. He handed her thirty and picked up with first shot and downed it without much ado. When he sat back, fingers still holding the glass lightly and breath coming out hard from the burn of the cheap stuff, she started fishing in her apron for change. He waved at her without saying a word and she nodded back in acknowledgement. He wouldn’t say it was in thanks because Mimi Deluca never thanked him for anything. She might thank him for not darkening her doorstep again, but then he’d have to find a new place to drink where the staff knew to leave him alone when he was in a mood like the one he was in today.

“Alex Manes is in town,” she mentioned casually, taking out a rag and making a show of wiping down the seat across from his before pushing his boots off and taking a seat.

Michael felt his stomach lurch and he gave her a narrow look, picking up the next shot and downing it in response. She shrugged and looked out at the four other patrons scattered around the room. “Maria mentioned it. Just thought you’d want to catch up with an old high school friend. He’s only on here on leave for a couple days. Then he’s getting sent back to the Middle East for another tour.”

“We weren’t exactly friends in high school, I’m not sure he’d even want to see me,” he replied, knowing he sounded sulky and petulant. Mimi gave him a sharp look, seeing through his shit just like always.

“Well, you were something. He always looked at you like you were a problem he couldn’t quite figure out and you always looked at him like he was the only answer to any question worth asking. Maybe you should look him up while he’s in town,” she commented, stacking the two empty shot glasses and leaving him to think about her suggestion. He watched after her, starting to feel the fuzzy edges of warmth from the tequila take hold of his consciousness.

How did he tell her that he had seen Alex Manes every time he’d come back home on leave? Or that he’d actually visited him once or twice when he was stationed somewhere within a day’s drive? Seven years since that day in the shed and every time Alex came home, he burst through Michael’s heart like a cannonball leaving just as much shredded evidence that he’d been through as a real one would. And Alex would just keep moving forward, not a dent or scratch to show he’d torn through Michael once again. It made Michael feel like just part of the rounds. Alex would see Maria, endure his father, pretend to be straight with his bros and then find Michael, where ever he may be, and crawl under his skin to hide for a few hours while systematically breaking down all of Michael’s emotional defenses and raising another sexual peak for someone else to try and top. Then he’d leave. Michael would mourn like a faithful pet and have to slowly fill in the hollow spaces that Alex had made for himself while he was there.

He took another shot. Maybe if he was hammered Alex would turn around and go back to his father’s house? Maybe if he drove out to the desert and slept in the back of his truck for the next week he could avoid this round of heartbreak? But then maybe he’d miss his chance to see Alex smile the way he’d only smile for Michael. He’d miss the feel of his skin brushing against Michael’s as he turned over in that sweet sleep they’d find between rounds of pressing themselves into one another. He’d miss giving Alex the chance to say he’d stay and that he loved him and that it was more than some protracted high school fling that neither of them could bear to end.

But it felt inevitable, this thing between them. Hearing Mimi’s announcement that he was in town clued Michael into what he’d been feeling all day. Inertia. It didn’t matter if he got shit faced, the universe would still tumble his sotted ass into Alex because he was always in a state of heading towards him anyway. The same end always awaited him. All Alex had to do was exist and Michael would crawl over a lava field to press his forehead against the skin of his ankles and when Alex stepped away, Michael would move towards him once more trying to recapture their bond. It wasn’t healthy, this obsession he felt towards Alex, but no one had ever made him feel so needed or so desperate for love. No one could calm the frenetic energy in his bones while winding him up to bursting. No one else tasted like starlight and infinite possibility the way Alex did. No one knew the seams of all his pieces so blindly and left him quite so torn apart.

His stomach rolled and he thought maybe he should’ve ordered something solid with his liquid dinner. Michael drank down half the glass of water and looked out across the bar to distract himself with the way the tequila was starting to make him feel floaty. More people were filtering in. The after-work crowd was always loud and brash and high on that feeling of temporary freedom from responsibility. Normally they were his favorite people to hustle for free drinks or Texas rounders in the bathroom, but he no longer felt like seeing or dealing with anyone tonight. He eyed the last two shots in contemplation.

Shrugging to himself, he picked them up in quick succession and downed them. He’d paid for them after all. Now he just had to race them home before they made him sleepy or weepy or suicidal. He slipped out of the booth and waited for Mimi to be busy before heading to his truck. He didn’t think she’d stop him, but he’d never done 5 shots in less than two hours and then tried to drive home. He just couldn’t stand to be there anymore in the steadily more jubilant atmosphere, and he didn’t want anyone to save him tonight. He could go home and pass out and forget about Alex Manes. He could stop chasing a dream.

When Michael stumbled into the airstream half an hour later, he had no clue how he hadn’t just died. He remembered driving. He remembered feeling like driving was a terrible idea and that he absolutely should not be doing it in the condition he was in. He remembered waiting to see another car on the road or a deer or anything that would spook him into swerving and flipping his truck, but he hadn’t. He’d made it back to the airstream. When he’d opened the car door, he’d fallen out and found himself looking at the everything sideways until he turned his head and looked at the stars swirling drunkenly in the sky. The earth was hard and still hot under him from the sweltering day. The gravel and dust clung to the side where he’d landed, digging into his skin. For as drunk as he was, shouldn’t he be number than this to discomfort?

It had taken him way too long to navigate making himself stand up so he could stagger the five steps to the trailer door. His hand gripped the door handle hard and he’d lurched and crawled up the two stairs into the airstream’s interior. Once inside, he immediately began to undress. He no longer wanted to wear the dirty, sweat stained work shirt. He didn’t want to wear the rough, torn jeans or his ragged underwear. He didn’t want to feel the caked layer of dust, grease, and salt that covered him head to toe. And he didn’t want to think that when Alex found him later he’d be too gross to touch.

That thought had him pause, naked and swaying in the door to the bathroom. Maybe Alex should find him gross. Maybe Alex deserved to see what it did to him to know he was in town, acting normal by day only to find Michael after all the lights in the town had gone out and show his real skin. Maybe Alex should know that Michael was as filthy on the outside as he was being treated. If Michael was going to be kept like a dirty secret, maybe he should just stay dirty. Who was Alex Manes to treat Michael like he was something shameful? He should tell Alex that. Should tell him not to come and see him anymore. Not to expect any further special treatment from Michael.

Making a decision, he turned and tried to grab his jeans from the floor so he could get his phone. He fell, landing hard with his shoulder digging into the cabinet door handles. Hissing, he ignored the pain and scrambled to pull the hard rectangle from his crusty jeans. He opened the screen and debated texting or calling before realizing he didn’t think he could coordinate his fingers well enough to text while this hammered. The tequila was starting to give his body ultimatums on whether it too would stay or go. The pain where he’d fallen against the door handle was stinging and he looked over to see blood running down his arm. Groaning, he reached up and hauled himself off the floor and onto his bed. He surveyed the contents of the trailer for something that he could see to dull the ache. A couple empty bottles of acetone lay on their sides at his worktable. He’d forgotten to buy more. A half empty bottle of Jose Cuervo sat across from him on the stove. He reached over and opened the bottle one handed, unscrewing the top with his thumb. He sloppily poured some over the wound ‘to clean it’ and then took a hearty swallow ‘for courage’. Swaying where he sat, he looked down at the phone again and found Alex in his contacts, hitting Call before he could talk himself out of it.

“Hello?” Alex answered the phone. Michael stayed silent, listening to the music and laughter emanating from the background noise. It didn’t sound like the Pony. Maybe that new gay bar in town? Maybe Alex was trying to replace him, take up another so he didn’t have to put up with Michael’s melodrama. Did Michael want that? Alex sounded good though a little confused as to why Michael was actually calling him instead of just waiting around to his turn at Alex’s attention, but…. Still, so good.

“Michael?” Alex whispered his name into the phone. Michael could almost see him turning and walking away from whoever he was with so they wouldn’t hear him say Michael’s name, wouldn’t know who had called him. Michael was breaking the rules. Alex was supposed to come to him when he wanted and he wasn’t supposed to go looking for him. He was the bad thing that had to be done with no body else’s knowledge so they wouldn’t judge Alex.

“Guerin, are you there?” Alex asked again, voice a little louder but still hushed compared to the environment around him. Michael hoped that was concern he was hearing but decided it must be something more akin to frustration. What was he doing? Why had he called Alex?

“Don’t come over tonight,” Michael finally bit out. Then he waited, silent. He knew he should hang up and make his point. That’s all he’d called to say, right?

“Okay,” Alex replied slowly, drawing out the work and definitely sounding confused. “I’m in town for another couple days. Maybe tomo—”

“NO, ALEX. Don’t come over ANY NIGHT! I don’t want you to!” Michael yelled, hearing the slur in his voice and knowing he’d said too much. When he’d yelled, he’d apparently swung the arm not holding the phone and he heard the resulting crash of beer bottles hitting the trailer floor.

“Are you okay? You sound drunk. Are you at the Pony? Do I need to come get you?” Alex asked, voice sharpening with concern. Michael scoffed.

“Fuck you. I don’t need you to take care of me. And I don’t want you to come here. I don’t want to see you, Alex. I don’t want to know you. I don’t want to love you. I’m fucking over this shit,” Michael babbled, sinking backwards into the worn thin mattress of his bed. He’d misjudged how close he’d been to the window though and his cut arm scraped against the rough edges of the window pane. “Fuck, Ow!”

“Michael!” Alex’s voice trilled in his ear, sounding alarmed and concerned. Michael heard a muffled male voice ask Alex a question and the muffled scrape of Alex’s hand covering the receiver as he answered ‘It’s fine. I’ll be there in a minute.’

“Ugh, I’m getting blood all over my fucking blanket,” Michael said distractedly, sitting back up and looking around for a towel.

“Why are you bleeding? ARE YOU OKAY?” Alex asked, voice beginning to sound frantic or as frantic as he ever sounded. Disaster didn’t really touch Alex the way it would touch normal people. Not after his childhood. Not after what he’d seen with the military.

“I’m FINE. I just cut myself. It just blood, I’ll be fine. Fuck, why is there so much blood?” Michael asked aloud as he grabbed his dirty shirt from the floor to press against the wound. There were a few scattered drops on his sheets and he’d have to get the hydrogen peroxide to see if he could get them out.

“I’m coming over there, Michael,” Alex snapped. Michael felt himself jerk to attention. He’d forgotten he was on the phone. Alex’s statement made his irrational anger bubble up again.

“Noooo. No don’t come over here. I don’t want to see you. Haven’t you been fucking listening? I…” he breathed heavily, almost seeing the liquor vapors in the air from where he was huffing out his breaths. He tried to summon up the last parts of him that were sober to keep telling Alex to stay away, but instead he started blurting out whatever came to mind. “I haven’t even showered. I’m disgusting. Don’t come over. I’m fine, I’m fine. My bloods just thin from the tequila. You don’t need to care about me. I’m not worth it. I’m disgusting. I’ll be fine. I’ll either wake up tomorrow morning or I’ll choke on my vomit and die. It’s… whatever, really. Stay with your friends. Have a good night, Alex.”

If Alex replied, Michael didn’t hear him because his eyes drifted shut and he was not aware of anything for a while.

When Michael woke up, he was still aching from his shoulder and he was still very drunk…and he was alone. He looked around the airstream, hoping to see Alex somewhere doing something…something to take care of him. When he didn’t see him and after lying very still in the dark, didn’t hear him, Michael felt his heart shred and shatter in his chest. He was supposed to come save him. He was supposed to come take care of him. He was supposed to show up and love Michael and then tomorrow! Tomorrow he’d feel this way. But not tonight. Tonight, he was supposed to be loved.

The tears fell first, but the sobs that clawed out of his throat came soon after. He hated himself for calling Alex and telling him not to come over. He hated himself for wanting to see Alex more than he ever wanted to save himself from pain. He hated the weak, high-pitched sounds that pushed past his teeth when he tried to stop himself from giving into this despair and he hated the low, open mouthed howls that echoed into the stuffing of his pillow as he rolled into a ball to try and hold himself together even while he knew he was broken beyond repair.

Hands smoothed over his shoulders and started pulling at him to turn over, away from the muffled safety of the pillow. He fought those hands, trying to shake them off even as he tried to curl further into himself. This ghost needed to let him bleed everything out.

“Michael!” a familiar voice called, breaking through his haze a little. “Michael, stop! STOP!”

He stilled, following the command and waiting for something worse to follow. Something worse always followed. It had every time he’d given in to how much pain he was feeling.

“Michael, look at me.”

He slowly opened his tear swollen eyes and looked up at the shadowy figure above him. He didn’t need the dim lights of the trailer to know whose hands were gripping his shoulders even if he hoped he was wrong.

“I told you not to come,” Michael croaked out, embarrassed when his voice broke on the last word. He could hear the weakness and water in his voice. The creaking dam of emotion he still hadn’t cried out threatening to burst back through at any moment.

“Michael,” Alex said his name again, soft and chiding. One of his hands, the one on the uninjured shoulder, rubbed soothingly up and down his arm.

“I don’t want you here,” Michael said again, trying to ignore the way his body was already loosening its cramped curl in response to Alex’s skin on his.

“I know. I know,” Alex agreed, before crawling over Michael and laying himself down with his back to the window. His body faced Michaels on the bed and his hand never stopped its slow back and forth movement over his tricep. “But I couldn’t hear you like that and not come check on you. Where did all of that come from, babe?”

The pet name felt like a puncture in the last piece of his heart that had been intact. He felt his breath shuddering past his lips as he tried to contain himself enough to answer. He must’ve taken too long, because he felt Alex’s body slide closer and arms wrap around him, pressing him into the warm, herbaceous scent of Alex’s shirt. He rested his cheek against the top of Michael’s head and Michael felt their knees brush against each other. Michael’s fingers uncurled from where they’d been clenched tight against his own chest and he reached forward, wrapping the fabric of Alex’s shirt into his hands as he felt more sobs break free from his body. He tried to keep them quiet, but he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone anymore. At least no one in this trailer.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m sorry I’m here if you really don’t want me to be. But you’re obviously hurting right now. I can’t just let that happen and not see if I can help. We’re friends, right? Friends don’t let each other hurt like this without trying to comfort them,” Alex murmured softly into his hair. Those warm, gentle hands were now petting his hair and rubbing his back. He could feel his muscles loosening and the fight going out of him. He just wanted to melt into the man in front of him. He wanted to be the one who carved out a place under his skin and lived there for the few days they’d have together. He wanted to be the one who left the hollow spaces for once.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming back,” Michael murmured into the space between Alex’s shoulder and neck. “Friends keep in fucking touch. You never tell when you’re coming back and when you’re here, you never stay. You find an excuse and disappear. I always wake up used up and alone.”

“Guerin….” Alex started, sighing heavily.

“Don’t call me by my last name. I get it, I’m just… part of coming back here. A chore you check off your list. You don’t have to keep coming here if you don’t want me, Alex,” Michael finished, uncramping his fingers from Alex’s shirt and starting to pull himself away. He was getting a headache from crying and the liquor and the long day. He was ready to turn over and go to sleep. He didn’t want to do this anymore.

“Michael,” Alex started again, his tone softer than before even as his hands held Michael firmly in place, not letting him draw away. “I don’t know what to say here. You’re not a chore. I will never and have never thought of you as an obligation. I always look forward to seeing you, but we don’t run in the same circles. We never have. And this never goes anywhere because I’m always going to leave. I can’t stay here with you, Michael, I’m sorry. Coming back to Roswell always leaves me feeling like I’ve time traveled and gotten stuck in a time vaccuum.”

Michael felt the burn begin again behind his eyes and his throat start to tighten.

“But when I’m here, I’m yours. You’re one of the only good things I get out of coming home,” Alex finished, finally letting go of Michael and drawing back to lay his head down beside Michael’s on the mattress. Michael felt a tear drip off his cheek as he stared at the fathomless brown eyes staring into his. He hoped Alex hadn’t seen the tear because of the shadow on his face, the dark hiding how much he always hurt when Alex was with him. Sometimes it was knives, sometimes it was ecstasy, but always it was pain.

“I’m yours, too. When you’re here, I’m yours,” Michael finally responded in a small voice, sliding his hands over Alex’s chest and up to cup his jaw gently. He’d decided he had all he could handle of the knives for tonight. Now he wanted the ecstasy. He wanted to hold Alex on his tongue and under his fingernails and inside of him. He needed the memories to get through another three years of his heart being caught in a fist of anxious worry over whether he’d get to see Alex alive again. How much of the Alex he loved would be left after more witnessed atrocities in name of his country?

Alex leaned in, pressing their foreheads together, his breath brushing Michael’s lips and chin. Michael didn’t want Alex to remember him like this.

“Let me up, I’m going to take a quick shower. I really am… pretty fucking filthy right now,” Michael admitted, laughing weakly. Alex smiled and nodded, pressing a kiss to his mouth before sitting up to watch him. Michael sat up, noting that while not trashed, he was still a little floaty. He was sober enough to feel embarrassed about Alex having to come rescue him because he was naked, drunk, and emotional. He stood and managed the two steps to the bathroom, turning on the water in the cubicle shower. He walked in and let the warm water wash over him, the thudding of his heart in his ears as he leaned forward, setting his hands on either side of the shower head. He let his forehead rest against the back of the shower stall while he tried to wrap his mind around the night so far. Another fine mess he’d made. A breeze at his back made him look over his shoulder and he saw Alex stepping into the tiny space with him.

“I’m not sure this shower is big enough for anything athletic,” Michael commented trying to ignore his bodies near Pavlovian response to seeing Alex naked. Alex hummed at him and wrapped his arms around Michael’s wet torso, pulling their bodies flush together under the water spray.

“I’m just helping you wash your back,” he teased, reaching past Michael and pulling the bar of soap down from the inset shelf. Michael closed his eyes and nodded, trying not to feel overwhelmed at how easy this was when it shifted from emotions to sex. How his body was always ready to forgive the sins and slights his mind had tallied up between them. How starved he was for this feast of flesh between them.

Michael groaned as he felt Alex’s hands start to slide over his wet skin, the bar of soap adding a welcome pressure against his abused muscles. His cock which had started to perk up at the view of Alex naked was starting to harden and strain towards his stomach with every brush of Alex’s body against his. It was impossible for Alex to move without some part of him touching Michael’s in the small space of the airstream’s shower. Michael couldn’t even turn around without them having to negotiate intensely so as not to end up with an elbow in someone’s eye or a knee bruising.

While Michael tried to find his focus, he felt Alex’s hands going over everywhere on him. Those well-defined hands were sliding up and down his back and over his shoulders and arms. His square, thin artist’s hands massaged Michael’s sides and then slid down to dig into the muscles of his lower back, and again lower onto his ass cheeks, dipped his thumbs into his crack and back out and around. He’d replaced the soap on the shelf and then his hands were sliding up Michael’s stomach and over his chest, pulling his back flush against Alex’s body. He felt Alex’s teeth settle onto his shoulder, even as his hips ground forward, his hard cock sliding between Michael’s cheeks making him moan loudly. He reached behind himself and grabbed at Alex’s hip, trying to pull him closer and let him grind harder against his backside. He felt Alex push his cock down, angling it low and letting it slip into the space between Michael’s legs. The spongey, hard tip tracing over his tight pucker and perineum, teasing behind his balls before drawing back. Immediately he closed his thighs as Alex started to pump his hips with earnest, water and soap helping slick the way for Alex’s cock. With every catch of Alex’s cock on his hole, he felt his sanity slipping from him. He wanted to feel him stretching his insides open, pushing his way in and making a home for himself in Michael’s body.

“Fuck, Michael, you feel so good. I want to be in you, babe. I wish I could just slip in,” Alex gasped into the meat of his shoulder, a hand sliding between their bodies so Alex could press and rub his fingers over where Michael needed him most, “right here. I want to be right here with you. Do you want that, babe?”

Even as his other hand drifted down to land on Michael’s achingly hard cock, Michael was grinding back against Alex’s hand, letting the tip of one finger breach him. It wasn’t enough, but it still felt like being on a better plane of existence. Michael groaned, reveling in the slick soapy slide of Alex’s hand on him and the slow thrusting motions that had been taken back up behind him driving him insane.

“Do you want that, Michael? Can I get you out of this shower and lay you down and take you apart? Make you scream for me? Get you nice and dirty again?”

“Alex,” he sighed, body throbbing with his need for this man. His name felt like a prayer and a curse and he could remember all too well how good Alex was at making him come apart at the seams.

“What do you want, Michael?” Alex asked, stilling his movements and just hugging Michael’s body back against his. He didn’t sound angry, just inquiring, as if he cared what Michael really wanted from him. His breath was ragged against the back of Michael’s ear. He sounded as desperate as Michael felt. Awkwardly, Michael turned and maneuvered until here could partially face Alex. The water was starting to cool in the shower and it only heightened how unnaturally warm his skin was in the small space. Michael looked at the water dripping from Alex’s hair and down his glorious, golden body. He took in the intense stare those dark chocolate eyes had pinned on him and could suddenly see what Mimi had meant. Alex looked like he was trying to figure Michael out, like he was waiting for an epiphany to what all of this meant. Michael knew he must be looking at Alex like he was the answer, because he was. He was the answer to all the questions that Michael had.

He leant in and pressed his lips to Alex’s. He tried to give Alex some of the answer he was looking for in that kiss, using his lips and tongue to spell out the words ‘I love you’. Alex kissed him back, equaling his fervor and clutching at his back and neck to keep him close. When they broke for air, Michael reached back to the shower wall and shut off the water.

“Take care of me, Alex. Love me. Fucking wreck me. Do whatever you want,” he gritted out the last words feeling reckless as he was lunging forward to begin kissing again. Alex hummed his understanding against Michael’s mouth and they stumbled, dripping, out of the shower stall. Michael backed Alex up against the small sink and broke away from his lips to start kissing down his chest and stomach. His knees hit the floor hard and he ran his hands up Alex’s thighs while he stared up into his face. Alex looked down at him in hunger, hand cradling his jaw before Michael leant forward and took the head of his cock into his mouth. His eyes fluttered at the clean taste of his skin and the familiar firm length of him sliding over his tongue. He looked through his eyelashes up at Alex to see him gripping the counter and biting his lip as he watched Michael take him down over and over. This is what power felt like.

On a whim, Michael grabbed the back of Alex’s thighs and pulled him slightly forward as he dove his head in, letting Alex’s cock slip into his throat where he swallowed around it. Alex’s hand shot out, diving into the wet curls on Michael’s head, tugging as he groaned at the sensation. Michael pulled back and slowly worked his way back down the next time, letting Alex appreciate his gag control as his nose brushed the other’s pubes.

“Shit, Michael, if you keep that up I’m going to cum down your throat,” Alex gasped out, failing to stop his hips from a small fluid grind into Michael’s mouth as he looked down at him. Michael pulled back, wrapping his hand around Alex’s prick and continuing to jack him slowly while he answered.

“Better get the first one out of the way, Alex. I want you to be able to fuck me for hours,” he replied.

“Fuck, Michael,” Alex breathed his name almost reverently, tightening his hand in Michael’s curls momentarily. Michael took his hand away from Alex’s cock, letting it jut into the air between them. Then he opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out and looking up at Alex expectantly. Biting his lip, Alex used his unoccupied hand to grip his dick and feed it over Michael’s tongue and into his mouth. He wasn’t truly thrusting, just letting the hot flesh slide shallowly in and out of Michael’s open mouth. “You’re so good at that, Michael. You’re so fucking perfect for me. I love it when you’re cock hungry and needy like this.”

“Make me yours, Alex. I want you to claim me,” Michael replied after backing off for a moment. He stared at Alex, running his hands over any bit of skin he could reach. He’d never get tired of touching Alex this way. The smooth, tan skin showing off the now familiar muscles the Air Force had trained into him. He took Alex back in his mouth, tongue gliding liquidly over the silky skin and lips pulling him closer to orgasm with every deep swallow. Michael reveled in this feeling of giving Alex what he wanted, what he thought he needed, and knowing if he stopped at just the right time, he could have him begging. But he didn’t want him to beg. He only wanted him to keep wanting to come back.

“Shit, Michael. Oh fuck, just like that, baby. I’m so close. Do you want me to come in your mouth?” Alex asked, breathless and desperate sounding. Michael could tell he was close, could feel the tightening of his body and the final swell starting in his cock before he blew his load. He nodded minutely, catching Alex’s eyes and winking up at him. Alex just whimpered and panted, hips started to stutter against Michael’s mouth, losing their rhythm as Alex’s body started to overload on sensation. Then Michael was swallowing, letting the warm, salty spurts from Alex’s body rest only a moment on his tongue before pulling it in. He held Alex in his mouth until he finished and calmed down, then slowly backed off, licking the skin clean as he went. Alex twitched from the overstimulation, but Michael was fully aware of how much Alex could handle before it become too much.

“Come here,” Alex breathed as he pulled Michael up from his knees. His kiss was sloppy and slightly uncoordinated since his orgasm, but Michael let him take control of it anyway. He liked Alex like this, sated but still hungry for more.

“Go to the bed, grab lube and a condom, and get on your hands and knees for me,” Alex commanded against his lips. Michael felt a shudder go through his body as he met Alex’s eyes. He loved it when Alex told him what to do. Alex held his gaze for a moment before leaning in towards his ear and whispering, “Go on now. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Michael turned and walked back into the main area of the Airstream. He reached into the drawer under his bed and pulled out the half-used bottle of lube and a condom. He threw them onto the bed by his pillow before crawling forward on his hands and knees to wait for Alex to come out of the bathroom. It wasn’t a long wait and it wasn’t a long walk before he felt Alex’s hands on his hips, thighs warm as they pressed against the back of his own. He pressed his hips back against Alex’s, back bowing and putting himself on display to entice Alex to hurry the fuck up already. A hand smoothed down his back, tracing his spine and then further down into the cleft between his cheeks, fingers once again resting against his hole.

“This where you want me, Michael?” Alex asked quietly, fingers rubbing small circles around the tight ring of muscle. Michael moaned and pressed his body back, needing more. “Use your words.”

“Yesss,” Michael hissed through his teeth, hands coming up to grip at his own damp curls. “Please Alex, I need you.”

“Okay, baby,” Alex said, bending hid body over Michael’s to grab the lube and condoms to have closer to him. He kissed along Michael’s back and ribs as he retreated, his teeth pinching small pieces of flesh between them and making Michael cry out softly with the exquisite pleasure-pain of it. He felt Alex’s body heat draw away from his and heard the scrape and shuffle of Alex moving behind him, but before he could glance past his shoulder to see what was happening, he felt Alex’s mouth on one of his ass cheeks, sucking and marking the flesh with his mouth. A wet finger prodded at his hole and he pushed back trying to let it sink in. Alex moved his finger away with Michael’s movement and he heard himself whining in frustration.

“I’m sorry, I’m being a tease,” Alex chuckled against the skin of his hip. He gave Michael a quick peck there and then Michael felt the pressure of his finger again. This time it didn’t stop, just slowly, inexorably pushed into him. He bit his lip to stop himself screaming in frustration. Alex slid his finger in and out, finger barely brushing over that bundle of nerves that would have Michael howling and feral if worked right.

“It’s not enough. More, Alex,” he begged. Alex’s mouth kissed the skin of his hip, then the dimple of his ass, and then closer still to where his finger and leisurely moving in and out of Michael’s body. Michael felt Alex’s lips then, a soft sucking caress on the skin stretched around his finger. Then the strange, erotic slide of his tongue. Michael’s body started to shake at the sensation, his cock giving a hard throb between his legs. Alex’s finger moved out of him and away, moved over to where it could splay over his ass cheek keeping Michael’s body pressed open wide for Alex’s mouth.

Alex’s mouth was a dream. His hot, wet tongue gave wide, long swipes from Michael’s balls to his hole. He felt his lips sucking on the skin of his pucker, his teeth scraping softly and making him cry out against his forearm. He felt the prod and push of the muscle working its way past the tight ring of Michael’s entrance and spearing into him over and over. Alex’s unoccupied hand came up and wrapped itself loosely around Michael’s red, angry cock. He could feel Alex working his pre around the crown, making his hand slick against the skin as he began working it while he ate Michael’s ass. It was almost too much. He could vaguely hear himself moaning and gasping, his body undulating between the tongue in his hole and the hand steadily milking his cock. He felt a tingle in his core, body starting to tighten on him in anticipation of coming.

“Alex, wait! I wanna come with your cock in me!” he cried out, even as he continued to thrust back against Alex’s face. The hand on his cock left him and he felt two fingers slip past Alex’s withdrawing tongue to start twisting and testing the muscles inside of him. Alex kept biting and sucking on the skin around his fingers, even as he hastily began to push a third on past Michael’s rim. It was a stretch and stung a little.

“More lube,” Michael gasped, his body hunching away from the invasion slightly. Alex paused and withdrew his fingers most of the way out of Michael’s body. Michael could feel the cold spill of more lube around his hole and onto Alex’s hand. With the next push inward, the third finger slid in easier and while still a stretch, it didn’t hurt. Alex was twisting and flexing his fingers, trying to make sure he wouldn’t hurt Michael when he finally pushed his cock in, and his knuckles finally skated over Michael’s prostate enough to make him seize up and cough out a shout of pleasure. He knew Alex had gotten the picture when he rubbed his knuckles over the same place again, this time with more pressure.

“Please, please, please, Alex,” Michael babbled, tears coming to his eyes as he fought down his body’s need to come. Alex was pressing on his spot with every thrust of his fingers now and Michael was fucking himself back on it even though it made him feel like he was about to shake apart.

“You think you’re ready?” Alex asked, his voice registering rough and strained even through Michael’s sex drunk brain.

“Yes, please Alex, I need you in me,” he cried.

“Okay,” Alex sighed, sounding grateful somehow to Michael’s ears. Michael heard the crinkling of the condom packet and then the blunt pressure of Alex’s cock pressing at his hole. He moaned, rocking backwards against the pressure and feeling the head pushing past his outer ring of muscles slowly. Alex’s hands came to rest at his waist lightly, not pulling or directing Michael’s movement, but simply resting while Michael did the work. Michael relished the feeling of Alex entering him, loved that first stretch and burn around the other man’s body. When he felt the head pop past the inner ring, he gasped, rocking forward and backwards over again feeling just the tip of Alex pulling at the edges of him. He heard a curse from behind him and glanced over his shoulder at Alex.

It was the first time he’d seen his face since they’d started this and he was glad it hadn’t happened until that moment. Alex looked wrecked. His eyes were glued down to where Michael was rocking onto him, lips red and swollen, face flushed, and abdomen muscles jumping as he tried to control his movements so as to let Michael play with him as much as he wanted. He was rock hard, but he wasn’t desperate the way Michael was.

His eyes flicked up and he saw Michael staring at him. He smiled and bit his lip, pushing his hips forward the next time Michael flexed back and Michael lost his breath as another few inches were pushed into him. His eyes fluttered closed and he turned back to lay his head on his forearms, overtaken with how good it felt to have Alex in him. Alex withdrew, leaving Michael feeling empty, until he pushed in again, giving him more. He continued until Michael could feel his hips flush against him and then he stilled.

“Shit,” he heard Alex curse softly behind him. He flexed his muscles around the mass inside of him and felt the responding, possibly unconscious, grind of Alex against him.

“How do you still feel like this? You always feel like you were made for this, Michael. You always feel like you were made for me,” Alex asked in wonder, pulling back and starting a slow, deep rhythm that made Michael feel like he was going to explode. A hand smoothed up his back and hooked onto his shoulder, pulling Michael’s body with Alex’s and making it feel as he were able to push deeper with every thrust. Then the hand was pulling Michael up, pulling him back so he was on his knees, back bowed and gravity helping to push him down harder onto Alex. He felt Alex’s mouth on his shoulder and neck, his arms wrapping around his chest, roaming over his skin, tweaking his nipples and dipping past his navel to stroke at his drooling cock.

“Alex,” Michael sighed, one hand holding Alex’s head behind him, the other resting on Alex’s hip. “I need more.”

“What do you need?” Alex asked, body still fluidly fucking into Michael’s in that slow, deep draw and push. This position was much better for Michael’s prostate, but it just wasn’t enough. He needed more.

“Harder,” Michael gasped on a particularly pointed thrust, “Faster.”

Alex’s hands went to Michael’s hips to steady him and then he was picking up the pace. Michael felt the moans tumble out of him as Alex’s hips started slapping his, cock pistoning in and out of him, running sharply over his prostate and bringing him back to the crescendo of pleasure.

“Oh fuck, like that. Don’t stop, Alex, fuck, don’t stop,” Michael cried, finally putting a hand on himself and jacking his aching cock in counterpoint to Alex’s thrusts. He could hear Alex’s huffing breath and occasional grunts behind him, could feel his fingers starting to dig into the meat of his muscles, could feel his own body tightening around Alex’s cock, trying to keep him inside of him. His orgasm hit him like a freight train. His vision whited out, his body seizing up around Alex and his cock swelling and releasing over his fingers and palm. He felt Alex fuck him through it, thrusts jagged and almost too much against his prostate, but then he too was groaning like he was dying and slowing inside of Michael. Michael felt pulled back onto Alex’s lap and enjoyed the wet pants of breath against his sweat sheened shoulder blade.

Alex was always languorous and tactile after he came. He would hold Michael against him until he was too soft to stay inside and then he would let his fingers play over Michael’s puffed hole. He would kiss all the sweat from his body and murmur sweet nothings into his skin. Then he could get hard again and they’d go for another round until Michael was too sore or the sun came up, whichever was first. After the last time, sleepy and wrapped around Michael like an octopus, Alex would fall asleep with his head on Michael’s chest, breath softly stirring the golden curls of hair, and Michael would try to stay awake as long as he could because if he fell asleep, like with most good dreams, Alex would be gone once he woke up. Alex would leave while Michael slept, texting him later that he was sorry he had to go before Michael woke, and then he’d leave the country to fight some rich man’s war for him. Michael would once again cover up the place Alex had made for himself in his body and heart. He’d once again drown himself in the arms of others or the bottom of bottles, but that place stayed hidden and safe and waiting for Alex to come back home.

#malex fic #personal #malex smut #malex angst #angst #malex #roswell nm #unhealthy relationships #sex instead of feelings

43 notes · View notes

maple-writes · 3 years

Text

WHG 15: Post Games 8

@concealeddarkness13 (thanks for Triel) (Only tagging you this time since I realize after I wrote this Indigo's side isn't super relevant to the overall plot lol)

###

Indigo went back to work a few days after Triel’s beating. Her rib still hurt like all hell when she moved in the wrong way but any longer and people would start to ask questions. It was exhausting though, more than usual, checking on her employees and ongoing projects with her side aching and Aurora all but breathing down her neck with how many times she’d tried to get her to come join her for dinner that week. After the last time she didn’t need to get drilled again. Thankfully Churi seemed to be giving her a little bit of space for now at least.

The last of her staff went home for the day and Indigo leaned back as far as she dared in her office chair. She should really be going home too, but she didn’t move. Even being back for a while now she was behind on reports and queries, and everything really. She could catch up at home but her stomach dropped just thinking about it. Who knew how Warren would be today, whether they’d be fine or in tears when she walked in the door. She groaned, draping an arm over her eyes. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep but that wasn’t an option. Not here.

She glanced at the calendar on her desk. Right. On top of everything one of her favorite projects was going to be terminated tomorrow. Indigo pushed herself back up, wincing at the sharp ache in her side. The least she could do was check on the bird one last time.

Indigo’s footsteps echoed though the empty hall lit by dim running lights. The last staff to leave for the night must not have realized she hadn’t gone home. Not like she really needed the light to navigate by anyway. She’d gone this way more than enough times before now.

Scanning her card she slipped into the wing where the live specimens were kept. This late at night most were sleeping. Only some stirred when she passed their enclosures and even then they raised their heads just long enough to recognize her and go back to sleep.

The bird was no different. Indigo stopped in front of her enclosure. A clipboard hung on the door, marked with the file name Parrot Cross – Weapon Class ver. IV. The bird blinked away as Indigo unlocked the door and held out an arm.

“Ivy, come.” The bird fluttered down from her perch and landed softly on her arm. “Good girl.”

Indigo stroked the soft feathers along the back of her head, smiling when Ivy leaned into the touch. It was stupid, getting attached to any one of these mutts but there was something about this one. She was clever, clever enough to pick favorites and she didn’t think it evaded Snow how the bird seemed to obey her more eagerly than his peacekeepers. She sighed. By the time she gave it a nickname it was too late to not start to care for her.

“I know it’s late,” Indigo murmured as she stepped out of the enclosure with the bird. “But how about we go for a little walk?”

She nudged Ivy up onto her shoulder and brought her out of the wing and back through the abandoned halls. Passing under the lights her feathers shone bright colours. Even her claws, huge and sharp and hooked seemed to gleam. Her beak and the short claws at the edge of her wing shone less bright, more smooth and hardened to grip and tear. Ivy’s head swiveled as they passed doors and offices and posters hung on the walls. She’d never been out this way, out of the lab proper, and chattered excitement into Indigo’s ear.

“I know a place you might like.” She smiled up at the bird, looking down at her like she understood her every word. Her smile faded though when she remembered why she had her out in the first place. “It’s the least I can do for you. Let you stretch your wings a little bit.”

She stopped at her office for her bag and some files before taking Ivy to the lunch room that might have originally been planned to be a proper cafeteria. The room was wide with high ceilings and vent systems Ivy could hop around and perch on. Indigo closed the door behind them and released Ivy to explore. Massive wingbeats echoed through the empty room as she took off straight for the exposed pipes on the ceiling. She left her a moment to grab a little pouch of frozen berries from the freezer, tossing one for Ivy before sitting at one of the tables.

Ivy caught the berry mid-flight and Indigo smiled just a little before opening the file she brought with her. She put on some music to fill the silence but it didn’t seem to help. The words all blurred together and nothing stuck. Her mind wandered too far. Ever since Triel’s video she’d had to keep a closer eye on how her subordinates in Umbra Ursa were doing. If they found out she knew where Skyler was this whole time and didn’t go after him… There’d be mutiny. There was already something rumbling just under the surface, something she couldn’t put together. She’d been Ursa Major for a long time now. Long enough for ambitions to simmer. Then there was Aurora. If she found out about that video she would have her head, as if she wasn’t probably more than halfway there already.

Something moved in at the edge of the room and Indigo turned half-heartedly. None other than Triel stood cursing under her breath and staring. Indigo startled and dropped her paper.

Was she here to kill her? Indigo whistled to get Ivy’s attention and quickly signed “block” and pointed to the door. The bird swooped down and landed herself down to block the entrance. At least now Triel couldn’t make a quick getaway with Ivy at her back, even if she was here to finish what she started.

But Indigo didn’t get up. It wasn’t worth the ache it would bring. “Here to cause more problems?”

Triel crossed her arms. “I could ask you the same question.”

Fuck, she didn’t have the energy for this tonight. She leaned back in her chair and sighed up towards the dusty ceiling. “Really?” There was an edge to her voice, not enough to maim but enough. “This is mylab. Is it so strange I would be here?”

“You never stay this late. That’s why I specificallypicked this time.” How did she know that? Or better question, was it really that late already? “Do you really think I want to see your face right now?”

“There’s a very short list of people who genuinely want to see me so no, no I don’t think you want to see my face.” Did anyone? Did anyone really go out of their way to see her with no motive? Indigo huffed and shoved her papers away. “Especially after what you did to it last time.”

Triel smiled, the little shit. “Did you find the video I sent you amusing?”

She glanced at the mutt, eyes heavy and shoulders slouching. “No, not really.” Why lie? “Impressive you made it but you’re causing a lot of trouble for me right now.”

“Good. So, what horror are you working on right now?”

Indigo’s face fell and she gestured to Ivy. “Her?” That bird was hardly a horror. She paused a moment, lowering her voice when she continued. “She’s being destroyed tomorrow. She was meant for peacekeepers as aerial support but they said she didn’t perform correctly.” She raised her hands and signed “OK” to the bird, and she flew over to land in front of her and pluck a berry out of her outstretched hand.

She’d been there for part of the preliminary work between Ivy and one of Snow’s units. Whatever they taught to peacekeepers these days it wasn’t what made for an effective handler. How could they be confused why the bird didn’t seem eager to perform when there was no reward for her, and all her orders were shouted and given by force instead of any attempt at cooperation? Indigo clenched her teeth. She’d watched a peacekeeper give an unclear order and yell at her, and another strike her out of frustration.

“It’s bullshit.” Indigo spat. “They wanted something semi-autonomous and didn’t like it when it displayed autonomy and bit someone who handled her roughly.” Not to mention when she made her own decisions, adjusted her orders by what she saw. What they wanted was a robot, not a mutt. Ivy was nothing but effective with just a little respect.

Triel inched a little further into the room and signed “come,” to the bird and held out an arm.

Ivy cocked her head a moment but in the next she obeyed perfectly. A few wingbeats and she landed on Triel’s forearm. She shifted, careful not to break the skin with her talons and Indigo had to swallow against the bitterness in her mouth. If only Snow’s forces were as competent as some unpredictable teenaged girl and maybe Ivy would have stood a chance.

“That sounds familiar.” Triel growled, looking from the bird to Indigo before taking a deep breath but it didn’t seem to get rid of the anger in her voice. “You’re not trying to convince me of anything right now, so you don’t have to tell me bullshit anymore: Where is Churi holding my crew?”

Was that what she was here for? “I told you the truth. They got out and I don’t know where they are now.” As far as she knew Churi and the others hadn’t the slightest idea either but Triel didn’t seem the type to just take her word for it. Indigo leaned down to her bag and pulled out her bottle of wine and a little travel cup, thankful she’d thought to bring it with her. “I don’t have any need to lie to you. I’d tell you if I knew.” She opened the bottle and poured herself a cup, set the bottle down and nodded towards the side of the room. “There might be a glass in the cupboard there if you want some.” If Triel was having a night anything like hers, she’d appreciate a drink.

Triel took her up on the offer, grabbing the first glass she saw and filling it up with Indigo’s wine. She downed the first glass all at once and poured a second as Ivy shuffled off her arm and onto the table. Indigo slouched in her chair, heart falling just a little. It couldn’t have been easy being her right now.

“I call bullshit on that because what about—” her voice cracked, “about Shine? That was their decoy phone. So, you had to have known where they were to have that.”

Indigo raised her cup to her lips and took a long, slow sip. She let her eyes wander from Triel to Ivy as she sat and preened on the table. What should she say? That Shine was alive and well? But she couldn’t, not if she wanted to keep Triel in line and by extension further out of Churi’s wrath.

This was for her own good. “They were alone. The whereabouts of the others are still unknown.” Maybe it would help, just a little, to know the others were safe.

Triel’s grip on her cup tightened, knuckles white as her voice wavered. “Why did you have to kill them? You—you told me you could use them. And that would have been hell, but at least they would have been alive. At least I would have been able to do something.”

She choked and Indigo couldn’t bring herself to look. “I’m sorry, Triel.” It was the closest she could come to telling her the truth. “Others got to them first and by the time I got there the best I could do was make it quick.”

“Did you know that the Capitol has a person who can magically heal wounds, even though it makes them hurt so much worse?” Anger shook her words. “I do, because that’s what they’ve used to keep my magic in check.” She slammed her now empty glass down the table hard enough to make Ivy twist her head in surprise. “So, I call bullshit on that.”

Indigo clenched her teeth and jutted forward. “What do you want me to say?” She snapped. “Would you rather I took Churi’s approach and beat them to death? Or cut them up over and over for whatever wizard to patch them up to do it again?”

“If they wee still alive, I could save them.” Triel stood and signed “come,” to Ivy, glaring down at Indigo as the bird landed on her arm. “And if you fucking touch any of my friends again, you’ll get worse than just a bruised face. You piece of shit. I’m taking Mina before you can destroy another life.”

Mina? “Her name is Ivy.” Indigo glared, anger rising more than she would have liked but it was gone too quick, replaced by something heavier, colder, and she leaned back. Destroy another life. It was true, wasn’t it? “She’s an omnivore, and she likes berries.” She whispered and tried to loosen the vice around her throat but now, tonight, there wasn’t much she could do to stop it even as she tossed Triel what was left of the berry pouch.

She’d take care of her. If she could keep crewmates loyal enough to risk their lives for her she could be trusted to treat Ivy fairly.

Triel nodded, catching the bag in one hand. “I’m taking Ivybefore you can destroy another life.”

She left, the door shut, and it was just her again. Hunching forward to rest her head in a propped up hand she hardly heard the low music anymore, staring down at the plain tabletop. She should be grateful for Triel showing up like that, in the nick of time and taking Ivy somewhere safe but… The ceilings towering high above and the dozens of empty tables around her but it was her own fault. Triel was right.

Enough. Indigo forced herself to sit up again. She opened her file again, turned her music up and tried again. If she could push everything else aside, she could get this done. She just had to focus.

#whg 15 #indigo carmine

2 notes · View notes

itsmattsunshinehere · 4 years

Note

can i request about kuroo insisting that its okay if he’s only a rebound to the reader when she got her heart broken by oikawa?? you don’t have to but i would love to read it from you!!!! ilysm 💘

I’m sorry if it took so long sweetie, it turned out a bit sad, but I hope you like it anyway. I actually enjoyed writing it and I’m actually thinking of doing a part two maybe so let me know if you want it. Also, you can find a quote from one of my favourite books, Lord of Shadows by Cassandra Clare :)

Here’s your request, I hope you like it! 😘💘

-L

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Breathin.

Kuroo x reader.

synopsis: you got your heart broken by your ex boyfriend and your friend Kuroo tries to help you, even if it means being a rebound.

word count: 1.9 K

tags: angst

~~~

Snow falls covering the streets in white and you melancholy admire the view from the swing from which you are sitting on, when something cold hits your head, wetting all your hair.

"Tetsu!" you yell at your friend as he looks at you innocently, hiding his hands behind his back with a mischievous smile.

You bend to the ground and pick up the snow with your cold hands creating a ball, without even getting a clean shot you throw your snowball against your friend, who on the other hand, always has good reflexes and dodges your ball laughing at your poor shot.

You shudder as you look back at the city on the horizon, lightened by the colors of sunset. Curious, you pull out your phone from your pocket to check what time it is, but immediately you regret, staring at your lockscreen. A simple photograph taken months ago, in which you smile next to who’s been your ex-boyfriend for two weeks now. You remember when a few weeks earlier you broke down in tears in the apartment you share with Kuroo, collapsing to the ground as soon as you closed the door, unable to stand. You take a deep breath.

"He dumped me." You murmured when your roommate rushed next to you worried, while every little part of your control went in pieces and tears started falling copiously from your eyes.

He didn't need to ask you who had dumped you or who had torn you up like that, he already knew, anger had immediately begun to boil in his veins, but he decided that you were more important than his jealousy, that in that moment you needed him, as a friend. You needed someone to take you to your room and put you to bed and so he did: he pulled you up from the ground by taking you in his arms and took you to your room, lying on your bed with you and letting you drench his shirt with tears while he hugged you tightly. He let you vent, not leaving you alone for a moment until you fell asleep.

The next morning you told him how Tooru asked you to go out just to tell you that things between you two hadn't worked for months and that it was pointless to carry on a relationship that was not good for both of you, preventing you from meeting the right person. You told him how he told you clearly that it was over between you and how he turned around right afterward and probably went back to his place. You went back home, unable to speak and not realizing what had just happened, but then when you arrived at the front door of your house you suddenly began to cry and without realizing it, you had become a river, crying desperately while you entered your appartment, letting yourself slip against the door and wanting to stay on the ground until you had the strength and the desire to get up. You couldn’t stand up and luckily Kuroo was there for you: he was there to help you try to pick up the pieces of your heart. You're so grateful for everything he's done.

Still alive but barely breathing. That’s how you felt.

"Are you crying again?" your friend asks worriedly, sitting on the swing next to you and starting to swing with his legs like you.

You caress your cheeks in disbelief and you notice that you're actually crying, you didn't even notice. You've been trying to forget everything for days, but every time you see a picture of him by mistake or hear his name, the memories appear once again and overwhelm you like an avalanche, not letting you breathe and bringing all the pain back to your poor heart. It happened all unexpectedly; you didn't even have time to suspect anything. Was it really going that bad between you? You didn't even notice it: one day you were laughing together on his bed, the next day he broke up with you.

You wipe away the tears with the sleeve of your sweater that comes out of your coat and you look with a tired smile at the boy to your left.

"I think it's better if we go home." You tell him in a whisper and Kuroo nods as he gets up from his swing, taking your hand and helping you to get up, and then walking with you home.

You look once again at the view, admiring how the darkness has fallen and Tokyo is all lit by the lights of houses and streetlights. You found that place, which it has now become your place, with your roommate when one day, on your way back from the grocery store, you two got lost, ending up in that park fifteen minutes from your house. You still remember how with a little embarrassment you had confessed to your friend that you had agreed to share the apartment with him only because you were worried that some girl could steal your future boyfriend; Tetsu immediately laughed at you, calling you a fool.

You walk down the street leaving footprints in the snow, while Kuroo continues to shake your frozen hand. You're happy you have him in your life, you're so grateful to have him with you, and if you weren't focused on pinning the thousand pieces of your broken heart back together, you might even realize what you feel for him, but you know you need time. You need time to get back on your feet and walk again with your head held high, stopping staring at the ground and you know that a few days won’t be enough.

"You know, today Bokuto sent me a picture of his new teammates. You'll never guess who's on his team!" he says with a chuckle as he tries to take your mind off your thoughts and you look at him curious.

"Do you remember that Inarizaki boy who tried hitting on you in your second year, who you called by his twin's name?" He asks you by looking at you and you open your eyes wide.

"Was his name Atsumu or Osamu?" you ask him with a smile, not remembering who was who, provoking a loud laugh from the boy on your left.

"He was Atsumu Miya and I think he's still upset by how you could confuse him with his brother Osamu." He says to you with a laugh and you chuckle a little at the memory too.

How could you forget the disappointment on the boy's face when he stopped you to ask for your number and you called him by his twin’s name? His team had burst out laughing behind him, as did Kuroo and Yaku behind you. Apparently, everyone knew how Atsumu hated when he was confused for his brother, but how could it be your fault? You were in your second year of high school at Nekoma and for the first time you went with the volleyball team to Nationals as their manager; you had read about Inarizaki only a few hours before on a brochure that listed all the teams with the names of the players and their photos. But probably the photos of the twins had to be old and they still had the same hair color, their names were left in your mind just because they were the only twins in the tournament. So, not knowing who he was, when he asked you if you knew him, you whispered uncertainly one of the two names you remembered hoping it was the right one, but you were obviously wrong.

You reach the landing of your apartment and Kuroo leaves your hand for the first time since you’ve come back from the park to pick up the keys to open the door. You let him take you inside the apartment and he takes off your coat and your scarf, then he takes you to the couch and tells you to wait for him while he brings you a cup of chocolate. You listen to what he tells you and wait for him, letting yourself be pampered by his attentions.

After five minutes he's back with two steaming cups full of chocolate and you notice that in yours he also added some marshmallows, just as you like. He stretches your cup to you and you thank him with a smile as you take a sip, burning your tongue. Kuroo giggles at your clumsiness, taking off your cup and resting it on the coffee table in front of your couch.

"Wait at least for a second for it to cool down, silly." He scolds you making fun of you and you show him your middle finger, while you stretch out to hug him and he wraps you with his big arms.

"Do you know Tetsu that I’d be lost without you?" you whisper him, hiding your face in his sweater, and Kuroo feels his heart beating faster.

Thanks to what you’ve just said, he takes that courage that in all those months he had hidden to not ruin your friendship and he raises your chin a little, not so sure on what he’s doing. You have quite an idea of what he wants to do and you know it wouldn't be right for him, not now at least. But you let him do it, you need his love and you can’t hide it.

Kuroo rests his shaking lips on yours, kissing you softly, almost being afraid to hurt you. Fearful, he passes his tongue on your lips and when it notices how you leave him access, he intensifies your kiss. You feel like you're on fire, as if a fire is flaring up your body by making you boil from inside, you feel your bones melting under his touch, while his calloused hands caress your face and you let yourself be carried away by feelings, until you separate to catch some breath.

"Tetsu I-" you try to talk, but he immediately stops you.

"I know what you're going to say, I know you're still in love with Oikawa, but it's okay for me if you use me as a rebound. It's not a problem, I just want you to smile again, I only care about that." He looks at you hopefully and you carry one hand on his face, the tears that flow back on your eyes.

"But you will break your heart." You whisper to him, holding one of his hands and he takes the other one, bringing both of your hands to his soft lips and putting a kiss on them.

"Break it. Break it in pieces. I give you permission."

"I just need time." A tear falls from your eyes, coming down on your cheek, but Kuroo is fast and picks it up with his thumb. You feel his touch burning your skin and you realize your feelings for him, but you're not ready to start something new after such a short time. You need to take a breath and take back your life in your hands, and although you're not going to cut him off of your life, you know you need to be by yourself for a while until you can open yourself up to something new again.

Kuroo smiles and hugs you again as he lies down with you on your small couch, his feet coming out of it because he's too tall and you giggle slightly.

"We have all the time in the world." He whispers to you by laying a slight kiss on your hair and putting a movie on.

All the time in the world. You take a deep breath.

#kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #nekoma kuroo #kuroo imagine #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo scenarios #nekoma x reader #nekoma #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu imagines #anime #angst #kuroo angst

93 notes · View notes