#even tho the water is there to swallow him and the chair and the mountains of morgoth in between...

[adwendoodles]

finally finished the redone strength card!

I screen recorded me doing part of this because... i’ve always wanted to try. it could be better but if you’re curious, here is the link

[katsukikitten]

A/N I cant wait for yall to read this

Sunlight fights to filter in beneath the thick curtains, causing you to stir slightly as the sweet smell of burning sugar pulls you closer.

Happily you snuggle deeper into the scent, drowning in it as you nose your way further into the crook of a soft neck. A hum escapes you as you are pulled quickly back under tow dreaming of a sweet shop with nothing but squares of caramel and deep candy apple eyes.

A harsh knock comes at the door snapping you back to reality causing your muscles to tense with burning adrenaline. You're pulled ever closer, pressed impossibly so into a muscled chest, pops ringing out of a steady hand.

"Who the fuck is it?" Voice dark, deep with sleep and venom. Causing your body to act on it's own as your stomach and core flutter.

The dream makes more sense as you slowly remember last night, your cheeks aflame.

"Ka..Kaachan. We're late! Our plane leaves in half an hour and I'm worried about Y/N. She isn't picking up her phone and she won't answer her door. I...I dont remember her coming back with us last night. She came back with us right? We didn't leave her? The girls left before us and..." He continues on in a tangent as Bakugo growls. Both of you relish each other's skin for a moment before letting go, giving one another an odd glance as you both dress. Katsuki nods towards the sliding door as he breaks Deku's worry spell.

"Oi! Oi!" Bakugo growls ripping the door open enough that his top half sticks out, "She and I brought you back. She's probably taking forty fucking years to get ready like normal. Let me get my shit together."

He glances over his shoulder to watch you gracefully float from his balcony to yours. His eyes return to his oldest frenemy. Jade eyes hazed, half asleep, deep bags pull at his features harshly enough to have the hot head say.

"You look like shit. Did you take the meds Y/N left out for you?" Deku nods, gripping his forearm tightly.

"I'm sorry I..." But Bakugou cuts him off.

"Told you you couldn't out drink me, ya fucking light weight. Now get ready, when I'm done I'll get Y/N." He sighs shutting the door just before Deku turns to make his way back.

Katsuki stares at his unmade bed, at your card and phone sitting on his nightstand, reliving the night before.

He hopes he didn't make a mistake or take advantage of you depsite both of you being drunk as fuck.

The lingering smell of your shampoo clings to him like a lost lover causing him to bite his lower lip.

You stand in front of the glass door, debating if you should go in. Brave hands act on their own as they grip onto the door, flinging it to the side before you step into the dark room.

After a quick scan, it is safe to say that no one is present. House keeping had come to freshen your sheets and towels and you do not see anything amiss. The only thing noticeable is the slight indent on the side of the bed. You convince yourself that it's from the natural sag of the mattress.

Quickly you grab for your bag, checking to make sure you have all of your extra hero suits before grabbing onto the Bakugou waifu pillow having half a mind to leave it here.

But the longer you stare the more your head swims as your stomach twists with the weight of uncertainty.

Of the silent tension the two of you carried that could shift your relationship drastically one way or the other.

Little time is left before the three of you are supposed to leave, yet you make your way to the shower anyway. Cranking it up as high as it will go before standing in the burning water.

Almost wishing you were sharing the shower with the same person who left little purple bites over your breasts.

Even with your shower you manage to beat both of your male coworkers to the hallway.

Waiting patiently as you lean agaisnt your door, heart fluttering as you relive the ENTIRE weekend.

Of green eyes you hope to never see again, of a glass replica of your own eye, a threatening note, of the laughs you shared with the former 1A.

Of the closeness that developed between you and the women, that developed between you and Izuku.

And especially the smile that Bakugo has been sharing with you.

Of the eye contact from last night. Your heart freefalls into your stomach with enough force that the wind leaves you in a small "Fuck."

Hand pushing through wet hair as Izuku emerges from his room.

"Oh Y/N, thank goodness you're okay!" He wraps strong arms around your frame, flooding your senses with peppermint and a hint of lime.

"Oi, oi stop being dramatic I told ya the brat was fucking fine." Katsuki huffs, slamming his door, "You forgot this in my pocket last night."

There is little bite in his voice as his hand holds out your phone. He looks over you with deft eyes, reading your body language for distress while checking to see if any bruises were visible all before slinking back down to your hand.

That you haphazardly rewrapped. A snarl escapes his lips as you grab onto your phone, eyes burning into you.

"Remind me to never let you wrap my wounds." He nudges your shoulder with his own, crimsom eyes shining more than usual. You scoff at his remark, shoving him roughly.

"You act as if I wouldn't hope that you'd bleed out first." You flick your hair as you sashay past him fighting to keep the smile off of your face. A smile where a scowl should be. The two of you quip and bicker like normal but something is...different. Or at least it seems that way to Izuku as he watches the two of you interact. Studying the odd pair as he wonders what has changed.

It's a subtle change, as he hadn't caught on until the two of you had gotten onto the plane.

Suddenly Izuku couldn't help but notice that there was a little less animosity, a little less hostility between the two of you.

And he sure as hell didn't miss the lingering glances the two of you shared.

Bakugo slides into his seat across the aisle as he did a short two days ago, headphones on, scarlet eyes glancing at you before squeezing shut. You choose the window seat staring out at the tarmac below. Izuku watches your eyes flutter and blur with unshed tears as whatever heartwrenching thought crosses your mind. He swallows thickly ignoring you to give you privacy.

The three of you stand in front of the towering building of your agency.

All three of you asked to return to the office for various reasons.

A set of jeweled jade and burning scarlet rove over you, worry lacing their eyes in two atronomicly different forms. Furrowed brows and a narrowed glare.

You sigh pulling your luggage behind you as you walk through the office doors first.

Bakugo finds his office exactly as he left it. A mountain of paper work that is close to being over due. He bites at his lower lip as he slams into his office chair wondering how your conversation you must be having is going. Rocking in his leather chair as he stares at his phone, avoiding work as his ears perk hoping for sound in the office beside him.

Your office settled between his and Deku's. He growls out when he hears that stupid cheery voice of Deku's thanking his assistant before Bakugo descides he should probably do some work while he waits for your return.

Snarling curses to himself as he doesn't understand *why* he is so anxious to hear from you when normally he would relish your getting in trouble.

Shining eyes stare up at him settled on rouged cheeks, plush lips forming his name devouring every other thought on his mind.

He grinds his teeth trying to forget as deadly hands open his wallet to pull out his ID card for his office laptop only to be met with your debit card staring up at him.

"Fuck." He snarls abandoning his task in search of you. Not that he really had a qualm about avoiding paper work. He just spots you leaving the agency through his large office windows.

Odd, had you not had your meeting? Usually when you were in trouble with the director the lights flickered AT LEAST once. He takes the steps two at a time, pushing through the door to the stairwell just in time to over hear the latest gossip from front reception.

"So Tejina just up and quit after a paid vacation?" The security guard asks, setting down his extra cup for who he was obviously pining after. She barely gives it a second glance.

"She didn't even pack any of her stuff." The receptionist sighs, filing at a nail, "We might have to clean out her office."

" Ungrateful bi.."But before he can finish his sentence a loud pop rings out. He freezes staring down the top hero before swallowing thickly. Scarlet burns into mundane brown before he shifts his weight to walk through the double doors. All the while the security guard thanks his lucky stars.

"Oi!" Bakugo calls after you but you ignore him, pushing through your mixed emotions as you stomp your way towards home, "OI Y/N!"

But he is just as persistent as the memory of harsh vermilion turning soft as it glimpsed into your soul.

"Fuck." You mutter, walking faster dragging your stupid suitcase in your wake.

An explosion erupts, landing a toned body directly in front of you. Heated hands finding your shoulders quickly to stop you in your tracks. You jerk back from his touch and he tries not to let the hurt shine through on his face.

"What happened?" A bite that you ignore, trying to shove past him just to repeat the dance again. Jerk away, obvious display of hurt attempting to meld into rage. The longer you dont speak the more his blood boils before he finally sounds off.

"Did you really fucking quit?!" He yells loudly enough that birds flee from trees and rooftops. Avoiding his gaze you stare at his clenched fists, wanting everything and nothing to do with him all at once.

He was the last person you wanted to see.

Especially after the look on the director's face when you stated your resignation.

But here he stood in all his muscled glory, blocking your way.

Somethings never changed did they?

"Yes Bakugo I fucking quit. I'm done I.." Just as you're about to allow yourself to break, to consciously cry in front of the last human being you thought you could ever be vulnerable with he burts with popping motion.

"YOU FUCKING QUIT? FOR FUCKING WHAT?!" He heaves, pressing further, pushing your last button, "I didn't think you would quit over something so trivial as your fan base."

Red clouds your vision and drowns out any rational thought you had as your body moves on it's own accord. Your fist rears back, slaming into a sturdy jaw line causing him to slide back a few feet. And with it infecting him with that all consuming *red*.

A mixture of a snarl and smirk contort his handsome features as he spits blood onto the ground. He lunges, powering himself with his quirk as he comes for you.

Luggage far from forgotten as you bring it up to swing, hitting him in his ribs fucking his flight attack. He counters with a point blank explosion to which you stop with a shaky shield.

Struggling to keep the energy formed with nothing as its base. You distance yourself only for him to close the space, knowing full well you worked best from afar.

Well he sure as fuck better know considering how many hours he was forced to spend with you. He watches your quirk activate and deactivate in a matter of seconds, anticipating all of the projectiles you produce.

But he fails to notice the large boulder you steal from rock garden in the courtyard of the agency. He lunges for you again hot finger tips grazing your skin before you bring the large boulder down with full force.

Pinning him into the ground until a satisfying crack rings out.

Heaved breaths echo in the semi silence as the two of you work your problems out the only way strong quirk holders seem to know how.

Destruction spelling out every word that you'd never dare to speak. He gets the message loud in clear, although too late, as he watches your posture shrink just the slightest as you look down at him.

Barely able to hold eye contact, he produces a strong enough explosion for the boulder to become confetti on the wind before he stands, spitting crimson into the dirt.

This was your opportunity to move, this was the turning point of your relationship with him.

If he comforted you now for what felt like the thousandth time in the past few days you knew you wouldn't be able to resist him again.

Caramel tickles your nose on the wind moments before he stands before you, deadly palms resting on your exposed biceps. Gently squeezing as if the two of you hadn't tried to off the other. He sighs, body relaxing before you as you stare at his ever rising chest.

"Please...please tell me what's going on." He sounds desperate and you are unsure if you've ever heard a tone like this from him before. You heart pounds in your chest and painfully so. As if it were ensnared in an unsuspecting trap, barbs puncturing the tender flesh with each agonizing beat.

*"I should end this here. I should end this now."*

Is the all consuming thought you have before your mouth moves all on it's own. You hold his gaze, matching the intensity as you stare into his stunning scarlet eyes.

Eyes that you tell yourself are actually green.

"Please, as if you really fucking care Ground Zero." You cannot even bring yourself to use his name. Knowing that when you were to sound out the syllables your voice was sure to crack, his grip becomes tighter. Those damn lips you want to devour morph into a thin line biting back his ire.

"It's funny that you are so touch starved you would take a pity fuck as anything more." He jerks away then, eyes widening before turning into a nasty glare.

Still you continue your assault, pushing him with hot hands as you pretend so desperately that he is someone else.

Anyone else so you can push him away from you, hurt him enough that he would never look in your direction again.

That wouldn't be so bad right?

"We were never friends and we never will be. Quit being a bitch, like I said. It. Was. A. Drunken. Pity. Fuck." You bite out each word, staring him down for a full moment before turning on your heel. Hand raised for your strown luggage to assemble itself before returning to your hand.

All the while blurring red eyes stare after your powerful form. Teeth grit so tightly they threaten to turn to dust.

He should move. He should go after you.

Those words were clearly not meant for him. You clearly weren't looking him him in the same light as before. He knows in his bones he needs to follow you to fix this.

But that would require Bakugou Katsuki to swallow his pride.

And he always chokes on it.

You're a shaking mess of nerves as you walk home, trying hard not to glance over your shoulder at any noise as you near closer to your apartment.

No one but the agency knows where you live as you took extra precaution to avoid not only the paparazzi but especially crazed fans even opting to stay in random hotel room instead of the comfort of your penthouse apartment.

You smile softly at the slightly dilapidating building, climbing the crumbling concrete steps jingling one of the three keys it requires to get into your apartment.

The first for the front door.

The second for the stairwells

The final for your deadbolt and handle.

Both slide in easily as you breath in the smell of your dusty and dank apartment.

Relishing the fact that no one would find you here. The black out curtains are drawn keeping the apartment plunged in a never ending nighttime. You toss your keys onto the entry table closing the door behind you as you set your luggage down with a sigh.

Suddenly the air seems to shift, dust particles disturbed in the slight sunlight that streams in the small crack of the curtains sending your heart into a panic.

Green is reflected to you in the screen of your TV as breath floats down the nape of your neck.

Before you can react a sticky substance is placed over your mouth and nose, steadily forcing its way in and down your throat. A panic sets a cold sweat onto your goose skin as you realize the substance is forming from a thick forearm.

That you beat onto desperately as your vision begins to fade to black. Quirk grabbing onto anything to smash into your assailant just for it to be absorbed. Green holds your panicked gaze.

"You really couldn't have picked a better time to quit." He presses his noise into your throat huffing in your scent as you feel a shutter go through him. The strength in your body begins to fade with your vision before he runs his tongue along the hollow of your exposed collar bone.

"I told you you'd be mine soon enough *Doll.*"

[malecftw]

Hiking’s fun and all that - Brother Billy x reader x boyfriend Steve

A/N: That gif melted my heart fr even tho Joe looks like a creep lmfaooo I miss being able to talk to him someone ship him over to me tyvm. Hope you like it!

Word count: 2700

Warnings: angst, cursing, reader x injury, cliffhanger

Masterlist.

Requests open!

The sun was tanning your skin and the dust was flying around as you walked down from the mountain you’d just hiked. Your boyfriend Steve was a couple feet in front of you. His shorts clinging to his muscular legs as his hair bounced up and down, feet planting themselves heavily caused by the steepness of the walk down. Although you loved any and every contact with him, today was just too hot to be all over each other in the middle of nowhere. It was more likely that you’d suffer from heat stroke than that you’d get to enjoy his presence that little bit more.

Hawkins has always had nice summers, but this one really hit it out of the park. A constant layer of sweat coating your skin, no matter how many times you’d shower. The only comfort was that there was no exception. Everyone was aching for the weather to cool down. A couple of days ago you’d gotten the notice to start being cautious with drinking water as the forecast didn’t predict any improvement any time soon.

This heat also gave you the perfect excuse to keep your boyfriend and brother from attacking one another every time they saw each other. It just was too hot to invest any energy in anything other than trying to cool down and after a couple of months of dating Steve, they were starting to become more tolerant towards each other.

Billy didn’t like Steve, Steve didn’t like Billy. You had no intentions to be the main figure that’d change that but... Shit happens? The only reason they didn’t tear each others heads off, was you. Both loving you more than their wish to hurt the other.

The sun was slowly starting to set, which gave you an impeccable view of the small town you’d started calling home. You basked in the feeling of a slight gust of wind passing by, anything and everything that was the tiniest bit cooler than your skin brought you relief.

You’d gotten to the part of the trail that was surrounded by high bushes that came up to around your knees, all on the brink of catching fire you felt like. Steve stopped in his tracks and looked back at you. ‘You wanna walk in front of me or would you rather stay behind me?’ He asked, knowing you weren’t a fan of not being able to see the ground you’d plant your feet on. ‘Can I just walk closely in front of you?’ He nodded and waited for you to catch up, not being able to resist touching your waist as you passed him.

He always found little ways to touch you or show you his affection. Right now it was carefully guiding you down this damn hill you’d grown to resent in the last couple of hours. He took his hand in yours so you were assured he’d catch you if you fell. Your balance was probably one of the strangest things about you. It’d fluctuate so much. One moment you’d be perfectly fine and the next you’d be sat on your ass on the ground cause it decided to be like: ‘Naaaa not today.’

Your body was turned slightly as you started walking again. Instead of walking straight, you’d walk sideways causing more friction between your feet and the ground causing you to be more steady. Something you’d learned a long time ago when your family went hiking in the mountains when you were young. A time that you’d consider the best time of your life many years later. Back then, everything was simple. You had a loving mother, a loving father, and a loving brother. After the divorce, everything changed. Billy had started growing cold towards his father, feeling betrayed for giving up on his mother. The only thing that didn’t change was his love for you.

Out of the blue, a sharp stinging pain made it’s way up your leg starting at your ankle. You winced and stopped walking, slightly bending down in pain. ‘What’s wrong y/n?’ Steve asked worriedly, one hand on your back comfortingly as he held your hand tightly. ‘I don’t know. I think something bit me. It really burns.’ You groaned as you tried to stand up straight again. All of a sudden a wave of dizziness came over you and if it wasn’t for Steve’s arm around you, you definitely would not still be standing. ‘Woah easy, can you walk?’ You nodded grimacing, trying to focus on keeping the tears that were threatening to roll down your cheeks at bay. ‘Okay hold on to me, we’re not too far from the end of the trail.’

After about 5 minutes of hiking you halted Steve, really not being able to walk any further. The heat, dizziness and now nausea was starting to get too much. ‘Steve I literally can’t walk anymore. I’m so tired and I feel sick.’ Your weak voice said, struggling to reach the needed volume for Steve to hear you clearly. Thankfully he did cause he was stood so close to you.

He didn’t say anything but he bent down slightly, guiding your arms towards his neck and grabbing your thighs. You got what he was trying to do and in any other situation, you would heavily deny the gesture. However, right now you were genuinely feeling unwell so you obliged.

He quickly made his way down to the parking lot of the trail where his car stood parked in the shade of some trees. He carefully placed you into the passenger seat and turned on the car, allowing you to listen to some music as he observed your ankle. Two small, identical punctures were visible, small droplets of blood coating your ankle in a line down the rest of your ankle and foot.

‘Y/n?’ He asked when he didn’t get a response to him slightly palpating the hurt area. You vaguely responded to your name and groaned out some incoherent words. That’s when he knew this wasn’t just a normal bite. 

He kissed your forehead softly, muttering he’d be back soon and stalked over quickly to the phone booth a couple feet away. He silently thanked you for forcing him to learn his number in case anything was ever wrong. 

Anxiously tapping the device as it rang he cursed him for not picking up faster, he let out a sigh as he heard him pick up. ‘Billy, it’s Steve. You need to get to the hospital. It’s y/n.’ The other end of the line was quiet for all of 5 seconds before a worried, already on edge Billy spoke. ‘What? What the hell happened Harrington.’ 

‘We were hiking and she got bit by something. I’m sure it’s not a big deal but I’d just rather be safe.’ He lied through his teeth. Billy didn’t need to know how much Steve was freaking out. Especially with Billy’s reckless way of driving, Steve needed him to get to the hospital in one piece to be there for you. Plus, he figured maybe Billy would react better if he thought Steve didn’t know the severity of the situation and he let the doctors explain. After all, it’s not like he could’ve done something. Right?

Billy sighed and Steve heard him grab his keys. ‘Alright, I’m on my way. Take care of my sister Harrington.’ Billy said, being forced to put his trust in him. ‘Always Billy.’ Steve said reassuringly before hanging up and running towards his car. Your face was covered in sweat, a pained grimace on your face the entire ride to the hospital. Steve assumed Billy would get there first, considering the hiking trail was a little bit out of town.

Steve’s screeching tires came to a halt right in front of the door of the emergency room and he noticed Billy immediately coming over from his spot next to the door, awaiting his arrival. He never even looked at Steve, straight up going for the passenger door, eyeing his sister worriedly. He crouched down enough to be able to look at you directly. ‘Hey, y/n. It’s Billy, don’t worry okay I’m here.’ You groaned in response, squeezing your eyes as you tried your hardest to open them. You managed to look at him through hooded eyes and you started to cry a little. ‘It hurts so bad. I can’t breathe.’ You whispered with great effort. Billy swallowed, trying to stabilize his voice before speaking. ‘It’s okay baby, we’re going to make it all better.’ 

He kissed your forehead as he picked you up, carefully minding your head as he took you out of Steve’s car. With Steve hot on his heels, he ran into the hospital where a bed was already waiting for you, thanks to Billy telling them Steve was coming with you. As doctors began to run all kinds of tests, Billy and Steve were forced to wait outside of your room. Steve was sat down on one of the plastic chairs that were placed against the wall, fatigue coming over him as his adrenaline levels evened out, Billy was pacing around. Too nervous and worried to be still.

‘I’m sure she’s going to be okay Billy.’ Steve said, fiddling with a bottle of water as he took in Billy’s complexion. ‘You don’t know that.’ Billy said harshly. He still didn’t like Steve and sure as hell wasn’t going to pretend that he did right now. Steve looked down in acceptance of Billy’s answer. A tremendous amount of guilt washed over him as he started talking. ‘I’m sorry.’ Billy looked at him, eyes rolling and arrogance evident on his face yet he didn’t say anything and motioned for Steve to continue. ‘It’s my fault. I suggested we go hiking today. I asked her if she wanted to walk in front of me. If I hadn’t, maybe she wouldn’t have gotten hurt.’ Steve’s voice cracked and he rubbed at his irritated eyes, looking down again like a beaten dog.

Billy looked up at the hospital ceiling, not sure what to do with this apology. He knew what you’d want him to do with it though so he decided the answer that was the most abnormal for him. ‘It’s not your fault Harrington. I know she’d been bugging you for weeks to go hiking. It could’ve been anyone.’

Steve looked up in surprise but kept quiet, not wanting to push his luck. Even more to his surprise, Billy walked over to him and sat down. ‘I may not like you Harrington, but my sister loves you enough for the both of us, and that’s something I can respect. I’m not gonna make her hate me cause I can’t accept you. Hell, if you are good to her I might even consider not kicking your ass at basketball next time.’ Billy smiled. This was odd, something he could’ve never predicted, but it felt good. Knowing his sister would be proud of him. All he ever wanted was for you to be proud of him. Proud to be his sister.

The door creaked open, a significant noise but not loud enough to wake you. Your breathing was still heavy, your expression still looked pained but less so than before. Both boys quietly made it into your room, taking a seat on each side of you. Steve carefully rubbed circles on your hand, trying to comfort you in your medicinal haze. Billy, on the other hand, didn’t touch you. You seemed so fragile. Like you could break at any given moment. The two boys straightened their back as the doctor came in, speaking in a mellow voice. ‘So I have been informed that you are miss Hargrove’s brother? Are you comfortable having this man in the same room when I inform you about her condition? Billy looked at Steve quickly before nodding yes to the doctor.

The doctor took a seat at the edge of your bed and started talking once again. ‘So after a couple of blood tests, we can confirm the bite was that of a snake, more specifically a timber rattlesnake. Now, the venom is lethal but considering we were able to treat her moderately fast it’s very likely that she will recover with no lasting side effects. However, we do need to keep a close eye on the coagulation of her blood (blood clotting). She’s scheduled to have another dose of the antivenom and we have hope that she will respond well to that.’

Both Steve and Billy let out a breath they didn’t realize they were holding. ‘Do you know when she could be discharged?’ Steve asked, knowing how much you hate hospitals. The doctor shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not. We’ll have to see how she reacts to the second dose first but right now there are no talks about being discharged. She’s young and strong but her body still took quite the hit. The next 24 hours will determine the process of her recovery.

After answering a couple more questions, the doctor left the room, leaving Steve and Billy alone with you. Your mouth was covered by an oxygen mask and your arms were littered with bruises, nurses having to try numerous amounts of times to find a decent vein to give you an IV. All they could do now was wait.

White. White with black spots. White turning into a light brown. A light brown with a strong light in the middle of it. You squeezed your eyes, pain searing through your body as if you’d just run a marathon without breathing. You felt tired, deprived of oxygen. As fast you’d come to your senses, as fast would you be able to fall asleep again you felt like. But you fought. You wanted to ask what had happened. How long were you out for.

You winced and slowly opened your eyes, seeing both your brother and boyfriend on each side of you. And you were thankful to have them, considering your parents had left on vacation with Max a couple of days prior to this. ‘Steve?’ You croaked out and he looked up from playing with your fingers. ‘Hey stranger.’ He said, eyes red and filling up with tears a little bit. ‘I love you.’ You said immediately, not knowing what came over you to say that in front of your brother but you didn’t care. He kissed the back of your hand, squeezing it lightly as he mouthed ‘I love you too.’ Probably not wanting Billy to beat his ass. Billy, however, saw the exchange between you two and couldn’t help but smile. You really had Harrington wrapped all around your little finger.

‘You both make me feel sick.’ Billy exclaimed, not being able to wipe the grin off of his face. You jokingly glared at him but the nurse walking into your room stopped you from making a snarky remark. ‘How are you feeling sweetie?’ ‘I’m okay thank you. Still a bit tired but I’ve been worse. The boys and the nurse all smiled at your response, you’d just been bitten by a poisonous snake yet here you were taking it like a champ. ‘So this is the second dosage of the antivenom.’ She said as she started injecting the medication into your IV line. 

As the nurse was taking your vitals you started getting an itch in the back of your throat. Steve started pouring some water for you but the nurse stopped him, keeping a close eye on your behavior as the coughing got worse and worse.

You felt like your lungs were on fire and all the oxygen available was being used to fuel the flames. You zoned out, not really sure what was happening other than the horrifying feeling of the life slipping out of you. The boys were ushered out of the room as the nurse called out into the hallway: ‘CODE BLUE.’ 

Immediately all available nurses stormed into your room, leaving the two boys out in the hallway traumatized and terrified. 

Panic and terror visible on their faces as they witnessed another nurse push in a crash cart.

But the doctor said you were going to be fine?

Taglist: @constellationsolo @synonymforlame

[virmillion]

Exoskeleton

the honors zoology-inspired fic that no one asked for

Warnings: OCD, heavily described food, fighting, unhappy ending, derealization, let me know if there’s any more

Words: 3850 (22000 characters tho which is 10/10)

Exoskeleton - ek’sō-skel’ə-tən - (Gr. exō, outside, + skeletos, hard) - A supporting structure secreted by ectoderm or epidermis; external, not enveloped by living tissue, as opposed to endoskeleton.

    Exoskeletons were one of the major turning points in evolution, following the development of annelid cuticles and allowing an external shell to protect the animal from harm. The Cambrian Explosion, some 550 million odd years ago, gave rise to arthropods with such a feature. Ever since, smaller advancements have been made, varying from one species to another.

    “Hey, Logan? You want some food?” Patton interjects at Logan’s door, tearing his focus away from the laptop.

    “You know as well as I do that we do not require food,” Logan replies. Nevertheless, he puts the screen to sleep, rises from his desk chair, and follows Patton to the kitchen. It really doesn’t make any sense for the sides to have a kitchen in the mind palace, yet here it was, as Roman couldn’t deny Patton any last request. Ridiculous in every sense of the word. Logan straightens his tie in the hall, watching Patton disappear around the corner. Just as ridiculous to have a kitchen in the first place as it was to think that the sides, figments of Thomas’ imagination, required any real sustenance. Of course, he’d been online before. He’d seen the jokes, about him eating books, about Patton eating candy hearts, all of that manner of intelligence. But that’s all they were, really, just jokes from people he didn’t know.

    “Okay, so I know Thomas was gonna take a vegetarian cooking class to surprise Talyn, so I thought I’d do a little structural support from the inside to get him going,” Patton says. Logan slides into his little wooden chair at the little wooden table, not looking at the little wooden smile on Virgil’s little wooden face. “Ta-da!” Patton twirls around from the stove with a flourish of his free arm, the other raising a platter of fake meat things in the air. As the tray is set in the middle of the table with the air of a famous chef in front of a king, Patton takes his seat one spot counterclockwise of Logan, across from Virgil.

    “Pat, I never even conjured any ingredients for this,” Roman says, furrowing his brow at the mountain of food in front of him.

    “I know!” Patton bounces excitedly in his seat. “I found this recipe for using vegetables and stuff that we already had from last time I made dinner, and I got to use them to make something different! Isn’t that so cool?”

    “It’s great, Pat,” Virgil concedes, stretching a sleeve-covered hand out to grab something vaguely burger-like.

    “That it is, Panic at the Dork-sco,” Roman smiles.

    “Not your best. Four out of ten,” Virgil says, tearing off a piece of his not-burger. Logan reaches a hesitant hand out for one of the nugget-things, wrinkling a disgusted nose at the crumbly texture, the bread sticking to his fingers.

    “Oh, the veggie nuggets! I had one of these when I was making them, they’re so good!” Patton gushes, popping one in his mouth. Logan steels himself, swallowing a gag reflex, and takes a hesitant bite. Disgust washes over his soul as he holds the piece under his tongue, desperate to avoid tasting it. He needs to eat it, just swallow the darn thing and move on like everyone else, but he can’t. Just moving the chunk to his molars, he feels the artificial taste squelching out through his mouth. The ghost of a wince crosses his face as he forces the thing down his throat, every impulse fighting it.

    “Tasty, right?” Patton asks cheerfully, eating two pieces at once. Logan offers a nearly imperceptible nod, trying not to look at the remain two thirds of nugget in his hand. He can still taste the last bite on his teeth, the ghost of the crumbs sticking to his gums. The next bite is supposed to go faster, be easier, but no, two thirds of a nugget at once is terrible, latching onto would-be cavities and in his throat and to his stomach, where it sits like a stone.

    “You know what? I’m not hungry,” Logan says, drawing the cloth napkin from his lap and wiping it over his lips. “I’m going back to my room.”

    “Lo, you say that every night,” Roman whines. “We know that we don’t eat food, but this is the fun part of being part of Thomas! We get to do human things!”

    “Yeah, no thanks.” Logan pushes his chair back and heads for his room, still feeling the horrible substance forcing its way through his system. He downs one of some fifty water bottles in his room, trying to wash the remainder of the food away. In his haste to calm down, he didn’t close his door on time, which is never a good thing.

    “Why doesn’t he just pretend he enjoys it?” Roman’s voice drifts down the hall, garbled through whatever non-meat thing he happens to be eating. “Pretend like he actually likes us for once, I don’t know.”

    “Roman, it’s fine. Food just isn’t his thing,” Patton responds. Logan licks his lips, feeling the residing taste there. Even a forceful wiping of his bare hands isn’t enough to get rid of it.

    “He’s just so weird sometimes. Why can’t he just be normal or something?” Roman again. No input from Virgil. Not even a word, let alone one to defend him. Logan shuts the door softly, furrowing his eyebrows. They aren’t human, their words shouldn’t hurt him. If he just rebuilds the walls around the heart he doesn’t have, he’ll be fine. Not like his feelings are real, anyway.

————–

Exoskeleton - ek’sō-skel’ə-tən - (Gr. exō, outside, + skeletos, hard) - Derived from the annelid cuticle but hardened by addition of chitin and sometimes calcium to be tough, chemically resistant, and waterproof, with proteins for flexibility and chitin for strength.

    Logan scowls at the bright screen of his laptop as he hunches over it on the couch. Just a few more paragraphs, a little more research, and he can have this project finished for Thomas before it becomes a problem. As long as no one else has to lose sleep over it, Logan doesn’t mind the rapidly forming bags of exhaustion under his eyes. Thomas is happy, and that’s all that matters. That’s the only reason the sides exist, is to help him.

    “What’re you still doing up?” Virgil asks, shifting from under a blanket on the other couch. To tell the truth, he’d been there the entire night, shivering away when Logan had come in, laptop in one hand, stacks of notebook paper and pens in the other. Rather than wake the hoodie-clad side, Logan tossed a blanket over him before sitting on the adjacent couch and getting to work. Sure, he could’ve done just as much in his room, but with the sounds of Roman living out his dreams in his sleep across the hall? Not so much.

    “Working.” Logan continues maneuvering his fingers over the trackpad with one hand, scribbling furiously on lined paper with the other.

    “On what? There’s nothing big due yet, Thomas said so himself when we were setting up the last video.” Virgil’s voice is slow as he struggles to pick it up, sleep trying to pull him back down into oblivion. Logan doesn’t let his eyes drift to the hair poking out of the blanket, or to the tired eyes illuminated by the glow of the computer screen.

    “Getting ahead. Project’s due in a few weeks, but he wants to do another three videos in that time frame, too. Need to be prepared.” Logan fights the rising yawn in his chest, determined not to show how much of a toll the work has taken on him. He isn’t real, anyway, so the physical and mental effects aren’t real, either.

    “You should’ve told us, we would’ve helped you,” Virgil mumbles. His phone screen lights up the room a little more as he thumbs his way through tumblr.

    “It’s fine. You three need sleep anyway.” Virgil’s protests die out as sleep takes him once more, his phone dropping to the carpet. Vindicated, Logan returns to his work with a vengeance. He had hoped at the beginning that a few paragraphs would be easy, but then paragraphs turned to pages, and pages turned to sleep he wouldn’t get back. He didn’t need it.

    “Logan, you need to go to bed,” Patton announces, parading into the living room an hour or so later. Logan jolts awake, his eyes dry and his vision blurry. Glasses gone, computer dead, and a pretty line scribbled through his last page of notes. Awesome. “I have your glasses and your computer charger, now go get some sleep or you don’t get them back.” Logan scowls in the general direction of Patton’s voice, trying to glean some semblance of coherence from his writing. Nothing.

    “Patton, just give me the glasses back.”

    “Not until you get rest.”

    “Patton. Now.”

    “No! I’m not going to, and you can’t make me!”

    “Hey, what’s going on here?” Roman’s voice interjects. “Logan, where are your glasses?”

    “He took them.” Logan points roughly where he thinks Patton is standing. Everything is just a blob of color.

    “Virgil took your glasses?”

    “No, Patton did. Make him give them back, please.” A minor scuffle sounds, made all the more infuriating in that Logan can’t see what’s going on, before Roman speaks again.

    “Patton, why don’t you explain why you confiscated Logan’s glasses?”

    “Because he refuses to take care of himself! I’m just trying to look out for him.”

    “There’s nothing to look out for!” Logan shoots back, letting his temper flare up. “I’m perfectly fine, and none of you seem any worse for it, so why can’t you leave it alone?” When none of the others respond, Logan huffs out a sigh, ignoring the papers that scatter as he stands. “Fine. Whatever. I don’t care.” He heads for his room, shouldering past the featureless blobs standing in his way as he goes.

    The door slams shut behind him, an echoing bang that consumes his mind, but not before he can hear the last little comment from a voice he can’t distinguish. “We’re just trying to help. Why is he being such a freak about it?” Logan sets about rebuilding the imaginary walls surrounding his imaginary heart. Each brick shatters as soon as it’s laid.

————–

Exoskeleton - ek’sō-skel’ə-tən - (Gr. exō, outside, + skeletos, hard) - A protective outer shell that can withstand more force than the human skeleton.

    “This is gonna be great!” Thomas squeals as he shuts off the camera. “This video is gonna be so awesome, I can’t wait to post it! Just gotta edit it a little and we’ll be good to go!”

    “Thomas, you need ample rest before you can set about working on this project,” Logan informs him. A collective groan rises around the room.

    “Can’t you let him do what he wants? Killjoy,” Roman mutters, sinking out to wherever it is he goes to sulk about Logan.

    “Really, Logan, you’re the last person to be ragging on Thomas about sleep,” Patton tuts, shaking his head. He sinks out, quickly followed by a silent Virgil, leaving Logan alone with a baffled Thomas.

    “What was that about?”

    “You know that big research project?”

    “Yeah, I knocked that out really fast. It was so easy!”

    “That’s because I stayed up for a long night doing the harder work beforehand, so you’d know what you were doing when the time came for you to finish it.”

    “So that’s how your work impacts mine.” Thomas nods thoughtfully. “I guess it makes sense why they were telling you to get sleep, though. That can’t be healthy for you, staying up so much.”

    “It doesn’t matter. I’m not real, anyway.” Logan takes a long breath, forcing back a yawn as Thomas looks on in concern.

    “What do you mean by that?”

    “What is this, an interrogation?” Logan pinches his nose. “You imagined us. Me, Roman, Virgil, Patton. You made us up. We aren’t real. We’re figments of your imagination that you keep around because you feel bad about your own miserable life. If you would get over yourself and your never ending parade of problems, none of us would have a reason to exist. As it stands, we only remain to groom your ego. Figure out your own life, and we’ll be gone. If our existence depends on someone else’s state of mind, then we. Are. Not. Real.” Ignoring the look of shock and hurt on Thomas’ face, Logan sinks out. The yawn on his face looks like a scream.

————–

Exoskeleton - ek’sō-skel’ə-tən - (Gr. exō, outside, + skeletos, hard) - the external skeleton that supports and protects an animal’s body, in contrast to the internal skeleton (endoskeleton) of, for example, a human.

    “You really didn’t need to hurt Thomas like that,” Roman accuses the next morning, barging in on Logan as he sips at his coffee, scrolling through his computer. “Patton’s in his room and he won’t come out, and it’s all your fault. He’s Thomas’ heart, you should know that. Logical side, remember?”

    “So you, being the creative side, should be able to think of a reason for what I said, yes?” Logan clunks his cup on the table, not flinching at the arc of stray drops that scald his hand. “Or maybe you could craft some magical world in which I do what everyone wants me to, but here I am, the only side that bothers to give any thought to my actions. Patton can stay by himself, but he knows that it’s better to be with others. It’s not my fault he’s locked himself away.”

    “For someone who’s supposed to be smart, you’re really stupid.” Roman scowls, folding his arms. “You need to consider how others feel.”

    “I’ve said it before, I will say it again. I’m not going to protect the nonexistent feelings of nonexistent people. If you would just listen to me for once, maybe you’d know that.”

    “Don’t you care that what you say hurts the rest of us?” Roman’s face crumples as Logan glares back. “Don’t you feel bad?”

    “I don’t feel anything, Creativity. So you can go tell Morality and Anxiety as much, because I do not care.” Logan slams his laptop shut, not caring about the danger to the screen, and rams his shoulder into Roman’s as he passes him.

    “Fine! Run to your room again, see if I care!” Roman drops himself into a chair, shouting at Logan’s retreating back. “Actually, you know what? I do care! Because I’m a good person who knows that other people have feelings!”

    “Is that so?” Logan asks, stopping in his tracks. A cruel smile spreads across his face as he turns his head back to sneer at Roman. “Then would you care to explain why you were so cruel to Virgil before? Or was he just not a person until it was convenient for you?” A sharp gasp is what makes Logan lose his composure, turning back toward his bedroom door. Virgil steps out of the shadows from down the hall, his face expressionless.

    “Maybe you should take some alone time.” His voice wavers between octaves, contrasting the utter lack of emotion in the rest of his face. Logan feels the imaginary walls around his imaginary heart threatening to shatter.

    “I’m sure you’d know so much about that, wouldn’t you?” Logan cocks his head to the side, considering Virgil’s still form. “Given how alone you were before Thomas decided you were worth listening to. Too bad it took getting rid of you a second time for you to stick around.” Virgil’s jaw twitches, water threatening to leak from his eyes, Roman running to his side, but Logan doesn’t see any of it, slamming his door shut behind him.

    The imaginary walls go back up, busily rebuilding themselves harder, stronger, better. Steeled against the soft sobs in the hall. The walls stand taller than before.

————–

Exoskeleton - ek’sō-skel’ə-tən - (Gr. exō, outside, + skeletos, hard) - Exoskeletons contain rigid and resistant components that fulfill a set of functional roles including protection, excretion, sensing, support, feeding and acting as a barrier against desiccation in terrestrial organisms.

    It’s been weeks. Nothing has changed, except for Logan’s habits involving the other three. Hide out in his room, sneak to the kitchen for food, and ignore any calls for help or interaction. Basically what Virgil does, but productive. Granted, his eye bags of sleeplessness are far more pronounced than the anxious side’s, and his fingers tremble when he writes, but he’s fine. He’s getting things done. He’s making himself useful, when his opinions are what put the others off from him. He’s just being realistic. He’s just telling the truth. It isn’t his fault that they can’t accept their own nonexistent mortality.

    “Hiding away from us won’t fix your problems,” Roman calls through the door. A daily occurrence at this point, and one Logan has learned to ignore. Just like always. The computer screen swims before his eyes, letters dripping into incoherent nonsense, towers of paragraphs wobbling back and forth, ready to fall off into the white oblivion of the internet. He glances at his fingers, can’t make his eyes focus, blinking too much, can’t see anything. He doesn’t remember putting his hand over there. He doesn’t remember crashing off of his chair. He doesn’t hear the shouts of concern from the hall. He doesn’t hear the replies to ignore him.

    His fingers twitch over the carpet, scratching the fibers. Can’t feel anything. Shouldn’t have expected to, anyway. Not real, can’t feel, no big deal. His mind feels like an overturned bucket in a rainstorm, pounded by a million thoughts it can’t retain. He wants to scream, but he’s not real, so why bother trying? He lets his eyes bounce across the floor, at the coffee cup on the ground. He doesn’t remember knocking it over. He doesn’t remember its burning contents pouring over his bare feet. He watches with morbid fascination as his skin roasts, turning bright pink. He feels nothing.

    “Logan, you really should come out,” Patton says with a knock. Cotton stuff itself in Logan’s mouth, preventing any words from escaping. Can’t respond. Why bother, anyway, if this interaction isn’t real? Nothing is real. He can’t feel anything, so why bother? “If you don’t give me a verbal answer, I’m going to come in.” Honey sludges through Logan’s head, mucking up the gears and blocking any sense of reason. He watches the coffee drip, drip, drip over his foot. The door clicks open.

    “Logan, are you—Lo, what happened?” Patton darts to Logan’s side, grabbing his hand. Logan doesn’t feel it. Patton pulls at his hair, looking at the rugburns on Logan’s cheek. He doesn’t feel them. “Lo, your coffee’s everywhere. Why didn’t you ask for help?” Logan can’t even muster the energy to blink. “Roman! Get in here!” The sound of trudging feet screams in Logan’s ears, the sound of an unwilling prince, ready to assist. “Get his arm, he’s not moving.” Through some form of teamwork that Logan doesn’t move his head to watch, his arms are raised and he’s dragged down the hall to the common area, where his limp body is deposited on the couch. He doesn’t feel the way his ankle twists under him, ready to snap.

    “Is he okay?” Virgil asks from the other couch, pocketing his phone.

    “A little brain dead, but what else is new?” Roman scoffs. Logan doesn’t care enough to think of a witty response. He doesn’t care at all.

    “Roman!” Patton hisses. “He needs food or water or something, I don’t know. We can’t leave him alone anymore, that’s for sure.” A whispered scream escapes Logan. No food, please God no. The others don’t hear it, busying themselves finding sustenance for someone who would rather wither away in solitude. Logan finds some kernel of energy deep down, whipping himself off the couch and onto the floor. His head smacks the edge of the coffee table on the way down, the world spiraling into dark. Better than this artificial hellscape the others think is reality. Why can’t they just listen to reason?

————–

Exoskeleton - ek’sō-skel’ə-tən - (Gr. exō, outside, + skeletos, hard) - Since exoskeletons are rigid, they present some limits to growth.

    He wakes up back on the couch, covered with a weighted blanket, glasses at an angle on his face. The other three are squeezed onto the smaller couch, watching the television. Roman is the first to notice Logan shift, nudging the other two.

    “Lo, are you okay?” Patton asks, leaping up from the couch. “We came back with food and you were on the ground and—”

    “I’m fine.” Logan waves a hand flippantly. “Not real, therefore don’t get hurt.” He rises on unsteady feet, ignoring the way his sight goes fuzzy. Patton runs to block Logan before he can get past the staircase, a hand held up to emphasize it.

    “Regardless of how imaginary you may think we are, we still care about you. We want you to be safe.” When Logan doesn’t respond, instead staring at the ground, Patton advances, arms outstretched for a hug. Wrong move, as Logan notices a split second before impact.

    “Get off me!” Logan shouts, shoving Patton away. The latter stumbles backwards, his back slamming into the guards around the stairs, the railing digging into his back as he sinks to the ground, a look of hurt in his eyes.

    “Logan, we just wanted to help. If you would just listen—”

    “I don’t want to hear it, okay? I have work to do, and you three keep interrupting it with your nonsense!”

    “Logan, I think you need to calm down.” Roman moves to kneel by Patton, a hand raised in defense.

    “Calm down? I need to calm down? That’s rich, Roman, really. I, the logical side to Thomas, as well as a non-corporeal being, need to calm down. But wait, I don’t, do I? Because I’m not real.” Logan can see the emotions racing through the three in front of him, Virgil’s terror, Patton’s disappointment, Roman’s flaring hatred.

    “Not real, huh?” Roman rises, leaving Virgil with Patton. “What we’re feeling right now isn’t real. Okay. Sure. Makes sense.”

    “Just stop it, stop it both of you. Please.” Patton wavers his focus between the two, desperate to keep the situation from escalating.

    “None of it’s real.” Logan crosses his arms, not backing down.

    “You may not think it’s real, but what you’re feeling is,” Patton insists. “Let us help. Please.”

    “Your help isn’t real, either, Morality.”

    “How about this?” Roman punches Logan square in the nose, sending him crashing to the floor. “Was that real enough for you?” Roman takes Patton’s wrist in one hand, Virgil’s in the other, and marches down the hall, leaving Logan alone to rebuild his imaginary walls by his imaginary self.

    The imaginary walls are not made of chitin or cartilage or calcium carbonate this time.

    The imaginary walls are made of steel and diamond and graphene.

    They do not break this time.

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