#ive been through plenty of death and i know how to handle it by now

[yourstrulyray]

hi do you want to talk abt isaac.

basically i'm writing a cbs ghosts fic with a focus on some original characters but with a lot of nisaac and plenty of the entire cast in general

it'll have a lot of isaac's pov as well, with his thoughts about two people who can be openly queer in the modern era

but. since ive only watched like,, probably less than half of the show. i thought talking to someone else abt it could help me characterise everyone?? i also just want to talk abt it bc it's kind of a fixation right now haha

no pressure though!! hope you have a nice day

AAAAA yes please i would love to talk about my son hehdhd

let me list out some timelines pre-death first :3

isaac's marriage to beatrice: before or during 1773 the american revolutionary war: 1775-1783 nigel's death: 1776 isaac's death: 1777

so since the start of season 1, despite isaac's efforts we could all still see the fact he does not find women attractive (he literally called his wife, beatrice a handsome woman) so we're thinking bad comphet for our guy here.

(this only applies pre-nisaac) there are five male ghosts of the main cast, so when they all collectively agree that one girl is attractive (maybe not pete), isaac naturally plays along with it, but. plays along badly. everyone could tell that he did not find that girl attractive

as during nisaac, he is still obviously hesitant to be open because he had never been in a relationship with another man. a homosexual relationship. but not only is he hesitant, he is scared.

why is he scared? take a guess of what punishment you'd get for being gay in the 1770s (especially 1776).

the death penalty.

and we all know our guy isaac likes to talk about himself, he was so heavily disappointed to see that all he was in history was a footnote, and how he was jealous that his rival, hamilton, got a whole MUSICAL made about him (isaac loves musical theatre so thats twice the angy) so it's reasonable for him to be scared of death.

but hes already dead, why still be scared?

i actually dont know why but it's probably muscle memory for isaac to pretend. maybe he only found out that queerness was legalized/modernized through sam, not even through the recently dead ones. gotta hand it to him though i cant keep up a facade for more than a century XD

anyway, him being hesitant isn't the only problem, it's also the way he handles his relationship with nigel. his only other serious relationship was with a woman he wasn't even romantically interested in, so he has no healthy base to rely his current relationship with. also, his god-forsaken terrible communication skills, bros been pretending so much that even his personal feelings should be hidden 😭🙏 who hurt u man?

honestly his poo communication skills can still be linked back to his marriage with beatrice. maybe he had no problem with her, therefore no feelings were required to be shared, and he didn't have the need to communicate. but with nigel is a whole different situation.

oh yeah speaking of nigel, like isaac he doesn't have a healthy basis for a relationship. in this case, he previously was in a homosexual relationship, but it was only a sexual (?) one (with jenkins, but idk about the sexual part so jenkins fans back me up 🙏🙏).

we do see in the series that isaac is taking baby steps in the relationship, as opposed to nigel who rushes the starting-to-adjust stage, because this isn't his first gay relationship (whos gonna tell him) which then results to isaac having certain feelings about it, which then results to isaac not communicating as to pretend he can manage their relationship.

one thing about isaac's "certain feelings", it's usually about little things not even serious stuff. he had gone on many respites (temporary break up) with nigel because of their political beliefs (TGE WAR FUCKING ENDED GET OVER IT), hobbies, and personal likes. instead of adjusting to each other, they still choose to follow what they want instead of each other's wishes.

so, TLDR; nigel and isaac, despite having been in previous relationships, are doodoo at expressing themselves and adjusting to one another. (boo)

if you'd like the characterization of the other ghosts/sam and jay, my askbox is open at all times!! :3

[gaoau]

一 ; one ; uno

it's so cold warnings — none. word count — 4.0k

next.

ive long realized plenty of things i never needed—the past is never behind us, the present is fleeting, the future doesnt exist. theres a wrinkle in the sands of time. theres a fault in the fabric of the universe. there are many flaws everywhere i look. sano manjiro lies dead before me. mikey lies dead before me. blond hair and a dragon tattoo because we both miss ken. black hair that makes him look too much like shin. white hair and dark bags covered in tears. how many times have i seen this already? why have i seen this already? everything is broken. its disastrous and confusing and suffocating. i dont understand what im looking at.

i remember, just seconds ago, i was busy beating up some random guys from a rival gang. theres a reason we rule over the kanto area. we dont back down from a fight. so where did i go? where am i? why am i seeing this now? these are memories of a future i dont have. these are memories of a future i shouldnt have. its enough to drive me insane when i think that this is all i get for being next to mikey. i hold my breath and choke whenever hes around. that intoxicating grace of his, the one that sets him apart from the world, has been flooding my senses for longer than i can take. and i let him, because i want him to be happy. this is all i get; blood, gore, pain, death, loneliness.

i dont want to think about mikey any longer. ive done all i could, it seems. id just like to be free for one moment. i still see it all, futures im not a part of, futures that takemichi has made sure to change.

he wears that godforsaken dragon tattoo like a brand on his neck. long hair hes kept dyed through the years because he doesnt want to cut it off, but he doesnt want me to style it for him. i look at him and i see ken. its torture. the years have gone by, im still by his side, he still has me locked in place. he hasnt smiled in what feels like eons. im okay with that. his smile, that empty, silent smile has always made my stomach ache. im not okay with that. hes a carbon copy of ken. we both miss him, i know. it hurts him more than me, even if im the one staring at a burning ghost all day, every day.

we're alone. im alone with mikey. im all alone when im with him. its cold on top of this building, in the corner of the world, secluded from the city weve conquered. i stretch out my legs, leaning against the wall, squinting at the reflection of led lights bending to hit my eye. mikey is still as small as ever. hes so small despite sitting on his throne like this. the gun i hold weighs on my hand. neither of us know how to properly handle guns. weve been drowning in this business for over a decade, but we're very clearly still children.

the safety clicks as i press the barrel under my jaw. "itd be so easy, dont you think?" the sound of my voice calls to him. its the only familiar sound in his life. its why ive been staying with him. i couldnt save him, but at least he still clings onto me like this. hes had me trapped for so long that i seem to have forgotten i was ever my own person.

his darkened eyes shift towards me so slowly. i see his face twist into a panicked frown. "whatre you doing?" he doesnt move from where hes sitting against the wall adjacent to mine. he reaches with his foot to tap my knee. stop, hes trying to say, dont even think about it. hes scared, i can tell. ive learned to read him like the open book he is. his light has grown dimmer through the years. hes angry, i can tell. hes wondering if ill leave him, too.

"nothing," i sigh. i lower the gun and leave it on my lap for a second. "m just thinking…" and i think. yes, i think. i know i cant leave him. he doesnt let me. he keeps me tied down to him. a chuckle falls, sardonic. i point the gun at him. "i cant die before you, mikey." ive promised. ive sworn to stay by his side until the bitter end—until his bitter end.

he doesnt bat an eye. "are you gonna kill me?" its funny how he doesnt care that im the one wholl be killing him. im just making my job easier for myself. i wonder what kind of face kisaki will make when he finds out what ive done.

"do you want me to?" i know he does. tonight ill see we find peace, manjiro. im the only one who he can lean on now.

hes quiet for a second. his eyes are like black holes as they swallow up all the light. he stares straight at me without expression. then, in a whisper, he begs, "…please." he doesnt say my name. no, he hasnt said my name more than once in our lives. he calls me by that stupid nickname he made up when we were hanging out at grandpas dojo.

i cant help the soft simper pulling at my lips. hes still the same mikey i know. he still struggles with asking for help, even if its me. but he still asks; hes still vulnerable in front of me. i pat my lap, legs stretched out just for him. "come here, then," i invite him closer, ready to welcome him with open arms, "rest your head for a bit." rest before you leave.

he doesnt hesitate. he never hesitates. in a swift movement, the back of his head collapses onto me. his eyes, the ones hes kept me trapped in for all my life, they dance around the vast expanse of midnight above us. "the stars are lovely today." stars i once promised to drag down to his feet if he asked. stars i swore wed always watch together.

i hum in agreement. "thats why we're here." everyone knows that stars only come out at night. we both know we're the two brightest burning stars in the world. we sit here, where people can see us burn and consume ourselves until we get crushed. "itll be over soon, i promise." the same way i promised him forever. ill hold him until the moment he dies. 

"thanks." ah, now he chooses to use my actual name. he can be so unfair. he could save a life, but he decided to take mine away instead. under his charm, i let him drag me down. we die hand in hand.

there are no tears; not from me, not from him. it seems weve both been waiting for the other to make the first move. hes so tired and so am i. with a singed throat, the words sting on my tongue as i remind him, "i love you, manjiro." theres no other feeling in the world like loving sano manjiro. i look into his darkened gaze and deny the truth staring back at me. its all a mess, scraping away at my mind. my love and hate look quite alike.

i can hardly tell light from dark or right from wrong anymore. mikey replies, "i love you." again, he dares not say my name. i hate him. he makes me go weak at the knees, even as i slump against the wall. i wonder if its him or the cross im bearing on my back, weighing me down.

mikey closes his eyes. he wants to let go. hes letting me go. its been years and hes finally letting me go. the wind howls and screams our names in my ears as i press the barrel of my gun to his forehead. we're stars; we'll burn, we'll rest, we'll disappear. we go down together. i shoot. his body relaxes against my legs. i feel the warmth of his blood seeping through my clothes. hes free. the gentle quirk of his lips tells me hes happy hes dead. maybe im just making it up. maybe i just want to believe ive done something.

i lift my head to the sky. the gun is warm against my skin. my pulse doesnt tremble when i pull the trigger.

im free.

but we arent free. i walk into his room to find mikey slumped against a corner. hes here again, a ghost of ken. how come his eyes grow darker every time i look? i scratch away an itch on the underside of my jaw, clearing my throat to let him know im here, it's me. he doesnt bother lifting his head for me. i stand right in front of him, bare feet centimeters away from his crossed legs. ive heard what hes done. he didnt check in with me before killing our friends. if takashi dies, then i stay. if pah dies, then i stay. ken and kei died, so i stay. he knows ill follow him to hell.

it hurts me, too. he cant let go of me and hes bruising my wrists. i want him to be happy. i want him to be free. i want to be free. "takashi, pah, peh, chifuyu." the list rings with poison in both of our ears. how did we get here?

"takemicchi got away," he mumbles. i highly doubt takemichi matters much right now. we stopped trusting him long ago. he changed after bloody halloween and mikey couldnt understand why.

i crouch to try and meet his eyes. charming, deadly works of art. viral. it's been years, but he still holds me in his gaze. "never woulda guessed chifuyu was working with tora. after killing kei, i thought for sure he wouldnt forgive him." theres no sugarcoating needed. i dont censor my words. his wounds are fresh and i keep digging my fingers into his flesh to make them deeper. i make all his mistakes real for him because he wants to be scolded. he cant ask for sympathy—he only asks for cruelty.

theres a pause. a silence that hangs. it's heavy, stagnant. it pulls at the seams. "kazutora needs to go, too."

my knees come in contact with the floor as i lean towards mikey. i wrap my arms around his head, cradling him to my chest. hes still warm. he rests his forehead against me. "theres no time, mikey. you cant do this any longer." youre falling apart, manjiro. i pull my gun from its holster, cocking it as i bury it in his hair.

"set me free." he pronounces that stupid nickname, chaos of my real name. i cant discern if hes begging or ordering me.

i hum softly. he put his trust in me. "i love you." he nods. the gunshot echoes in the quiet room. it rings in my ears. i see splatters of mikeys blood on the wall. i feel his body relax in my arms. with the barrel against my temple, i shoot myself free.

a headache splits my skull apart as i watch this unwind. have i seen this before? no, mikeys hair is pitch black. im glad he doesn't let it fall over his forehead. i don't think i could bear to look at shin so much. i was adamant to cut it for him when he asked. the list is the same, though much longer. takashi, pah, peh, chifuyu, tora, the twins, hakkai, even ken. hes talking with takemichi now. it's easy to tell what mikey wants from him. im no good in this future. i don't have what takemichi has.

there is nothing left here for us. i wait among the shadows and debris, listening to mikey confess all his crimes. he veered down the wrong path. ive kept by his side all this time, holding him at his most vulnerable, but im not a savior. takemichi can save him in a way i can't. all ive done so far is push back the inevitable. mikey falls victim to his dark impulses every time. who am i to stop him? he keeps the safety of his gun on; i don't. i can save myself.

"kill me," he says. i feel like ive heard that before. it's not directed at me, though. i won't stop him. all mikey wants is to die and be free. that's what i want, too.

takemichi is, understandably, confused. he doesn't get it. maybe that's why mikey has chosen him. takemichi tries to figure out what mikeys trying to tell him. he asks about the friends hes murdered. it must be frightening for him to hear his former commander speak so nonchalantly about setting hakkai on fire. he asks about me. mikey glances at where im hidden. i catch the look in his eyes. those eyes that had me wrapped around his finger when he so intensely stared into my soul. they quiver.

hes helpless. hes scared. hes tired. hes horrified. he doesn't know what to do. he pounces on takemichi and threatens him. then a gunshot rings. it's not mikeys, it's not takemichis. and it's certainly not mine. mikey is dead. mikey is free. i swore to him that i would see him to his end. we die hand in hand, don't we, manjiro?

tachibana naoto, hinas little brother shot him. i remember her mentioning him to me once. ironic how hes the one to kill mikey, of all people. as takemichi cradles mikeys dead body in his arms, i step out of my waiting spot. it alerts both men instantly. naoto is wary of my presence, but takemichi believes in hope. he exclaims my name with enthusiasm. perhaps he thought mikey had killed me as well when he didn't answer. as if mikey would ever let me go.

"im just here to pick him up," i let them know i mean no harm.

naoto is a cautious man, if anything. "takemichi-kun, get behind me." id never do anything to hurt takemichi. he doesn't need to be worried about me.

i kneel before takemichi, extending my arms out. i remove mikeys burdens from his chest to take him away with me so we can both find peace. his blood smears on my clothes and i know takemichi will have a hard time forgetting this sight. mikey doesn't weigh much. it's painful knowledge.

as i haul mikey away, takemichi calls, "wait!"

there's nothing left to say, though. mikey has confessed all his crimes. mikey has confessed all his pains. "it's over, takemichi." i can't bring myself to curse him with that stupid nickname after all these years. "it's finally over." we're finally free. welcome home, manjiro. i wonder, if i smiled, would it hurt him? it'd be genuine happiness, but it's not like he'd be able to read that, so i don't. mikeys body is cold and stiff against mine. i let him rest against me, eyes closed and dried tears on his cheeks. he hasn't cried in so long. he leans his head on my shoulder. he always does this when he lets his vulnerability show. "i love you, manjiro," i remind him. hes all i have. i press my gun to the roof of my mouth. i don't get to taste it.

it's never over. my tongue feels dry when i chew on it out of anxiety. ive heard three shots. i see haru waiting behind a corner as mikey finishes his business. i didn't even glance at takemichi before i decided i couldn't do this. i wonder how much longer it'll take mikey to come up here and join me. this is the tokyo we conquered; this is not the dream mikey had. if he'd had a better moral compass, if he hadn't let ken go, if he hadn't put his trust in me, maybe this wouldn't have happened.

i hear footsteps behind me. here he is. i hug one of my legs to my chest, the other one dangling off the edge. we're on top of the world. it's a long way back home from up on this rooftop. he stands next to me in complete silence. so he's left takemichi to die. he was hopeless and helpless until the very end. i can't blame him. he's been through so much. he doesn't know how to share. he takes on all of the pain. he can only ask to be punished, because aid isn't a word in his vocabulary.

mikey pipes up, "you've been waiting for me here?" it doesn't surprise him at all. i know him like the back of my hand. this is how he takes responsibility for the last decade of misfortunes. he'll end it all.

"i couldn't bare to watch you keep making these mistakes," i reply truthfully. ive seen this before. i glance up at him and he glances down at the street. don't look down, manjiro. you won't survive this trip to hell.

it sounds like he wants to laugh. he doesn't. instead he brings back a conversation we had when we were fourteen. "that's why you're better than me." hardly. he says that stupid nickname clinging to me like a curse.

"after you." i motion towards his kingdom, to the path covered in blood and snow.

mikey looks at me briefly, quiet. then he cranes his neck up at the sky. "you won't stop me?" i see the tattoo on his nape. he put it there so he wouldn't have to look at it. it burns on his skin as it burns on my shoulder blade.

"i can't." i don't have the rights to stop him. i didn't do it in other timelines, im not going to start now. this is the only way for us to be free. it's tragic how unfortunate we are. maybe we deserve it.

how does one normally respond to a friend committing suicide? how does one respond to a friend letting them commit suicide? it's not what mikey does when he hums. "i'll see you later." he disappears into his own mind. whose face is he seeing? shins? emmas? i would hope. "everyone, let's do this!" there's a grin on his face. ive missed it. he hops off the roof and away from me.

"ill see you later."

i hear haru screaming all the way from the street. he's distressed. he's been with manjiro just as long as i have. mikey trapped him the same way he trapped me, but somehow worse. i know im not free as long as i stay next to mikey. i stay out of love and selfishness. haru stays out of fear and obsession. i know im not free, but im still my own person.

and i don't fool myself.

mikeys falling to his death, peaceful. an arm shoots out from the building and latches onto him. i smile bitterly, a sigh tumbling from my lips. "sucks that death is a bit of a bitch for both of us." i want to jump, too. i stick to my perch and swallow my pride, because im my own person, but im not. i can't die before mikey, i can't leave him alone.

i see the tears pouring out of his eyes. he begs for help, finally, for the first time in his life. it's enough to make me cry, too. he's being weak for the whole world to watch him burn himself to oblivion. takemichi scolds him. he struggles to hold on when the cross he's bearing weighs him down. twelve years of pain make him slip from his saviors grasp. there's nothing i can do.

blond hair and passive, ken's tattoo, black hair and chaos, izana's earrings. reality is broken for me, pieces of different timelines scattered on the floor. i have all these memories that aren't mine. mikey lies dead before me in a billion angles no one else can see. i don't understand why im seeing this now. i know ive seen it before. it's been two years since i last had to suffer through this. time is shattered and it hurts.

i hear that nickname ring in my ears. when i blink, mikey's corpses are gone. there's a weight in my hand and it's not from a gun. im gripping an unconscious boy by the collar. my knuckles sting. the skin of my hands is split open, bleeding. i remember now. we were wiping out a rival gang that challenged us. i turn towards mikey, trying to blink him into focus. "sorry, what'd you say?"

he stares back at me with hollow eyes. there's a tiny furrow in his brow that others wouldn't be able to pinpoint. "let's go," he repeats, nodding his head for me to follow him. i see haru and koko waiting for us behind him. they both look away when i catch their gazes.

"oh, yeah." i clear my throat. the kid im holding slips from my fingers and crumbles on the floor. his head bounces when it hits the ground. next to the blood splattered on the dirt, a tear drops. i realize it's mine instantly. im crying. i wipe at my eyes with my sleeve to pretend nobody saw me. i don't think i can explain what's made me cry like this in the middle of a fight. there's a discomfort in my throat, and remnants of a headache pulse in my temples, and the roof of my mouth itches. im still crying. the tears fall, but i feel nothing. this anguish isn't mine to feel.

i cough into my fist as i walk to stand next to mikey so we can head back. there's an open gash on his leg that he's ignoring. what's a little wound to the invincible mikey, after all? i know nobody is invincible, let alone manjiro, because i know people die, because ive killed him with my own two hands. ill take care of it for him later; mikey is my responsibility. he waits for me to join him. my shoulder brushes against his. he glares at my tears so intensely. "are you okay?" he asks quietly, like he doesn't want the two boys ahead of us to hear.

i turn my head to find his eyes. it's like he's trying to bring all my deceit to light, like im not allowed to hold secrets. i see those black holes that swallow up his own deceit. all i see, rather than the mikey right in front of me, is his corpses in variety, because i killed him, because i let him die, because that's what he wanted and that's the only way he could be free. so i clear my throat again, "yeah, just got dizzy." he knows it's a lie, instantly. my voice doesn't waver when i lie, but it gets small. he knows.

he lets silence hang for a moment. "did you eat today?"

i shake my head. "i was waiting for you." my attention flutters back to the two boys a few paces ahead. they're awfully quiet.

so is mikey. i feel him still staring at me. "okay." and he looks away, too.

[go-against-fate]

tged oc info dump because ive got fuck all to do

beloww

Frédéric-Ange Robillard

He's a painter who came from a noble family of Seers. The future is revealed to him through his paintings. As if his hands has a mind of its own, it illustrates the reality of what's to come. He doesn't have visions of it and he never knows if the future that's revealed to him would be good or bad. He just knows that his paintings has never been proved to be false

In TKOBAI he was executed via decapitation for not obeying Alicia's order to use his Seer ability to predict the actions of her enemies. His blood would paint the ground red. And it would be his final art piece.

In TGED, a lot his paintings involved a certain brown hair civil engineer. He gets a bit tired of being shown the same guy over and over but hes glad to know that this man is trying his hardest to bring peace to the world. He eventually retired and lived a quiet life with his family

Kalei

Hailing from a small village in Sortino Barony, she's a self taught... mage? She wouldn't exactly call herself one. But either way, she can manipulate the mana around her. She always had a fascination of its correlation with life. Too bad that same fascination is also what lead her to lose her home village.

One day she was just attending the village gathering to welcome the autumn season. Then she felt a sudden surge of power roaming inside her, gradually increasing in volume. Her small body couldnt handle this huge abrupt supply of mana inside her and she could feel herself coughing until her lungs hurt, until her throat burns, until red liquid poured out. She could hear muffled screams before she blacked out. Something happened in between that and she couldnt remember. All she knows is that when she opened her eyes, everyone (but her) in the village lay lifeless and cold; her parents not excluded.

She spent the next years trying to survive by herself. It's just a good thing she had plenty of knowledge and crafty hands to aid her

In TKOBAI she would spend the rest of her remaining years alone in the forest, isolated from any human interaction. The feeling of impending doom lingers in the air. Her forest companions whisper of death and despair outside the woods, yet she's not concerned anymore. She only wonders when the sunlight would finally peek through the dark clouds. After all, her plants need sunlight to grow

In TGED she wandered north and eventually arrived to the Frontera Estate. She was given a warm welcome by the people that she met and they even gave her a place to live, food to eat, and.. a job. She doesnt complain much about it though, she's glad that her ability to help plants grow is more useful than ever now

_

I created Kalei before Fred, but her lore is still unfinished compared to Fred whose story I felt is already pretty solid. The one i kinda struggle to figure out with is how exactly did she absorbed the life out of the people in her village ತ⁠_⁠ತ

I was thinking maybe.. she picked up like an ancient relic when she was playing in the forest near her village thinking it was another pretty rock for her collection. And the celebration triggered the relic to activate. Basically a pebble sized life absorption relic used in ancient times during a war or somthn

Im not rocking (🥁) with her outfit now tho:/ i want to redesign it

But anyway, random facts about Kalei:

Shes that weird kid who would torture bugs by slurping their mana out of them, watch them writhe, and when theyre in the brink of passing away, she would return their mana. Shes done this to plants too. It's rather cruel but shes literally just a morbidly curious child (⁠・⁠–⁠・⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ Guess she had a fascination with how abrupt a being's life could end (funny how that is considering her backstory lol) She has done the opposite of if this too tho! Sometimes, she would give them (specifically plants) a piece of her mana and watch as they grow a teensy bit faster than before

She likes collecting rocks that she thinks looks cool. There's a corner in her room dedicated to them

She has a cane because she has a limp in her right leg. It developed after The Incident™ she tripped and sprained her ankle. Never bothered to treat it because she thought that it'll just go away on its own. It never did tho. Instead, it got worse. It's to the point that she couldnt bare to put pressure on it. In TKOBAI she straight up just amputated her leg and crafted a handmade prosthetic. However, in TGED, she did get it treated but the damage has already been done

She had to fight a squirrel for acorns once. It was not a fun memory. And not only that, she had to fight with a lot of forest critters for food. Ate a lot of dubiously edible food. I think her taste buds are dead at this point. In general tho, she was dubbed a menace to the forest creatures and they made sure to stay away from her path

[storm-of-feathers]

-

[takadasaiko]

Near Death Experiences (a SkyJade fic)

Summary: Every time Luke and Mara run across each other it seems like a new near death experience.

Notes: A while back I read the lovely @myevilmouse's 31 Days of Drabbles, Day 16 about Luke in the bacta tank and Mara staying. EvilMouse was kind enough to offer to let me run with any ideas I had linked to the drabble so here we go! I'm all in for some hurt/comfort :D

Read on AO3

----

She should have seen it coming. It wasn’t like all the signs hadn’t spelt out disaster from the moment she’d landed. From the nagging feeling pulling at her that she’d told herself she could handle to the way that the clients tried to change the terms of what had been a settled agreement, and then finally to the shootout that had left three of the five of them dead and Mara with what was proving to be a painful blaster burn along her thigh. They had almost gotten away with the data disk they were supposed to be purchasing as well when all the chaos had started, but a quick tug with the Force had pulled it across the old warehouse and into her hand. Now, several hours and enough redirects to lose even a talented tail, she limped her way up towards the smallest hangar where she’d left her craft and the new recruit that she was now glad she’d assigned to watch it. 

 Not that he was watching it very closely. Cid Gesk - a bright eyed kid from the Outer Rim with an inclination towards hero worship that had already proven an annoyance - was chatting with another pilot, hands dancing as he told some sort of story. Mara didn’t need to see the pilot’s face or even recognize the style of flight suit he’d worn since his days serving with the Alliance to know who had gotten the kid so riled up. 

 And from the brief flicker through the Force, Skywalker knew she was there too, even if he was too polite to interrupt Gesk mid-story. 

 “You know he’s on the clock, don’t you?” she called and watched Gesk pale, suddenly keenly aware that his new boss - the woman responsible for giving a report to her boss on how he did this trip - had caught him outside the ship. 

 Skywalker turned, the smile reaching his eyes. “Don’t blame him, Mara. I recognized the ship when I landed and we started chatting.”

 Gesk tried for what only managed to be the most awkward grin Mara had ever seen. “I swear I didn’t leave the hangar. Right here, just like you said.”

 “Don’t worry,” she directed at Skywalker, “it’ll just come out of the New Republic’s line of credit for consulting.”

 “Of course it will,” he chuckled, but those blue eyes of his narrowed as Mara’s leg gave slightly, the stumble barely noticeable to anyone but him. “You’re hurt.”

 “I’m fine.”

 “What happened?”

 “Clients tried to change the terms of the deal.” She reached into her pocket and pulled the data disk, tossing it to Gesk. “Make yourself useful and lock this up.”

 He caught it and muttered something to Skywalker before returning to his duties. She turned back to the Jedi Master who had an eyebrow quirked at her as if waiting for the full story. She frowned. “So what are you doing here?” she asked instead.

 For the briefest moment, he looked like he might not let it go, but then nodded towards the back of the hanger where his X-Wing sat out of immediate view. From the looks of it, it had seen some action. “Had a surprise run-in on my way back to Yavin IV and had to stop for some repairs.”

 A shrill sound caught her attention and she saw his R2 unit following after one of the mechanics back into the offices, fussing the whole way and refusing to be waived off. She shook her head and let the first real smile since they’d landed touch her lips. “We always seem to run into each other when you run into trouble.”

 He flashed her a grin. “Could say the same for you, but I think it’s a fair bet we find plenty of trouble on our own. Are you staying for a while?”

 “No, I should get going. Things went pretty bad in the deal and eventually they’ll realize I didn’t dock at the main hangar. No reason to tempt fate.”

 For the briefest of moments, she thought she saw disappointment in his eyes - maybe even felt it - but it was gone just as quickly. “Next time we’re on the same planet, we should catch up. It’s been a while.”

 “Miss me, Skywalker?” she teased, but didn’t expect the honest “Yes” in return with that painfully earnest look he got. She rolled her eyes, trying to hold onto the playful mood. “Well, if you can promise neither of us will walk away from it bleeding, I might be persuaded.”

 His lips parted, a response looking ready to roll off his tongue to continue the banter they’d become accustomed to, but he stiffened ever so slightly. Mara felt it a half moment later and shifted so she could see around him even as he turned. 

 Everything happened in what felt like a fraction of a second. Her brain registered  a figure approaching at a quick pace, something clutched in hand. It went up in the air, the lights on it already showing all the signs of detonation, and she heard Skywalker shout something. A bright light ripped at her eyes, the ear piercing sound of an explosion the warning that they wouldn’t have long to care, but the flames from the explosion didn’t touch her. Luke stood in front of her, both hands outstretched and his face strained as he fought to keep the blast from killing them both. 

 But the explosion had to go somewhere, and Mara barely registered where as the steady hangar floor suddenly rippled and broke beneath their feet, sending both her and Skywalker crashing down to the next level. 

 ——-

 She came around slowly, wincing as she pushed her body off the ground and felt bits of debris fall away, struggling to pull the details of what had happened together. Mara blinked hard and dim, flickering lights that hung unsteadily from far above gave a limited view of her surroundings. The next level down? Couldn’t be. A hangar bay had to be big enough to house ships. The fall alone would have killed her…. but they weren’t in the main bay. That was right. She and Gesk had landed on the outskirts to avoid prying eyes. Then the deal has gone bad, she’d come back, and…. Skywalker. 

 Mara’s gaze swept the room she’d landed in and found only pieces of the hangar bay floor that had come crashing down with them, but no sign of the Jedi Master. She pulled in a shaky breath, forcing herself to relax with the exhale and reach out through the Force. She could feel pain, fear, panic…. But they were all distant and they weren’t Luke. She pictured him in her mind, focusing, until there was a flicker that felt like him a handful of meters away. She let her eyes flicker open and found a pile of debris where she could sense him. That couldn’t be good. 

 She picked her way over carefully, trying to strengthen her connection to him. Slowly, deliberately, she studied the pile of rubble to see what would happen if she started pulling it away until she found a place to start that she was relatively certain wouldn’t collapse in on him or outward on her. She couldn’t help him if she was pinned too. 

 It was painstaking work, but as she got closer and closer she could feel that flicker of consciousness start to grow. “I'm coming,” she huffed the promise, feeling sweat trickling down the back of her neck. He just needed to hold on a little longer. 

 Mara sent a chunk of metal tumbling out of her way and cleared an opening. In it she saw a mop of dark blond hair and relief flooded through her. She carefully tugged more and more debris out of the way, showing that he was twisted over, under, and around pieces of the floor and ceiling and whatever had been between, half on his side. As she pulled at a larger slab that was pressing down against his ribs she felt a jolt of pain from him. Blue eyes popped open and Skywalker choked on the sudden inhale that came with his abrupt return to consciousness. Mara froze, fingers latched around the best handholds she could find, unsure if she was somehow hurting him more by removing it. 

 “Hey,” she growled out, voice straining as she felt the tension on her hands and arms from holding the heavy slab just slightly off of him. “Skywalker.”

 His gaze snapped to her and he seemed to piece together what was happening. He gave the barest of nods and, with a breath and a little help from the Force, she finished the task of freeing him. 

 Skywalker shuddered, turning to curl on his side and Mara let her gaze travel down the length of his body until she spotted where his left arm was wrapped around his body, hand clutching at the ripped fabric of his flight suit. Blood leaked through his fingers as he struggled to catch his breath.

  Mara looked up at the severely damaged ceiling above them to verify they weren’t in immediate danger of another collapse before she sank down to a knee next to him, reaching out through the Force and with a hand, both gestures as soothing as she could manage. 

 He flinched under her physical touch, but didn’t pull fully away. His skin was clammy, blood smeared on his face from a cut above his right eye that was already starting to swell. She let her fingers linger at his hairline, the movement careful as she searched for any sign of head trauma. Well, at least there was one positive sign. 

 One more brush of his hair and she let her hand drift down, simultaneously checking for injuries and making sure he knew where she was looking. He must have had enough wherewithal to follow, because his left hand tightened around the fabric of his tattered flight suit as she drew closer to the injury. “I need to look,” she said, her voice rough than she meant for it to be. “Skywalker.” She received no acknowledgement and she loosed a soft sigh. “Luke.”

 He tensed slightly, but one by one his fingers started to loosen so that she could gently move his hand to reveal the jagged, deep gash that stretched along and below his ribs. She frowned at the wound, trying to push back the fact that it had likely been made worse when she’d removed the piece of ceiling from him. 

 “Not your fault,” he managed, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Couldn’t breathe.”

 She blinked, filling in the missing pieces of the explanation. “Bleeding out or crushed to death, how do you want to go?” she snarked softly. 

 Somehow it pulled the barest of laughs from him. “Neither?”

 “That’s got my vote.” 

 “Jade!”

 Mara’s gaze jerked to the massive hole in the ceiling to see Gesk inched carefully to the edge. As far as she could see, he looked to have missed the brunt of the blast. 

 “It pushed the ship back!” he called down. “Not sure if she’ll fly or not but —“

 “I don’t give a kriff about the ship!” she snapped. “We need medical attention down here now .”

 He gave her a startled look and started nodding enthusiastically. “Yep. Yeah, of course. They’re uh… on their way. I’ll go check.”

 And then he was gone, not leaving Mara with a whole lot of faith in him. She sighed, shrugging her jacket off and turning it inside out to find the cleanest stretch of fabric. “This’ll hurt,” she warned, but didn’t give Skywalker a chance to protest as she pressed down. 

 His body went tense under her hands, blue eyes squeezed shut and she felt the fingers on his right hand graze her bent knee before taking hold of a piece of rubble to squeeze against the pain. She saw a flash of metal and, for a moment, she thought some of the ceiling was embedded in his hand before she remembered that it was mechanica under the synth fleshl. It was the metal casing that helped to protect the wiring she was seeing. He really had taken the full force of the attack. One likely meant for her. 

 “Not your fault,” he repeated through clenched teeth. 

 “He was probably after me,” she confessed quietly. “Two people got away in the botched deal.”

 “You recognize him?”

 Mara struggled to recall the approaching figure that had held the detonator, but she couldn’t recall the face. “I don’t know.”

 “Could have just as easily tracked me.” His grip on the rubble loosened just a little. “You okay?”

 “You took the brunt of it.”

 And tightened again, a fresh wave of pain evident. “Not an answer,” he managed. 

 “I’m okay,” she promised. “Hell of a lot better than you.” 

 A rough chuckle left him and she felt his hand on her knee. “Good.”

 He was drifting again. “Luke?”

 “Hmm?”

 “I meant it earlier. No more near-death experiences when we see each other.”

 “Reasonable,” he huffed, amusement flickering through the Force. 

 “Good.” Because, somewhere along the way, she realized that she wasn’t ready to lose him. 

 “You too,” he murmured. 

 She hated when he did that… but for what it was worth, she doubted either of them had their barriers up. Before she could talk herself out of it she leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to his temple. If he knew or not, she couldn’t tell, and she’d just as soon prefer he didn’t. 

 “Jade! I got help!” Gesk called from above and there were several locals with him along with Skywalker’s nervous little R2 unit. 

 “Hear that, Skywalker? Gesk actually did what he was told.”

 Luke’s amusement flickering over was the only sign he’d heard her. She stayed with him, unmoving from where she was knelt with her hands pressed against her jacket that was staunching the flow of blood from the gash along his ribs. The locals descended with a medical droid and only then did she force herself to stand and take a step back, feeling his limp hand slide from her knee as he did. 

 He was going to be alright. He had to be.

[in-ky]

Hi! I’d love a story about Negan being a serial killer who only kills “bad people” (like in Dexter) and maybe he saves the reader from her ex who’s about to kill her and Negan can save her and takes her in because she’s a mess but she’s actually a killer herself (who kills rapists etc/ only the bad ones) and Negan and the reader start fighting and then get caught up in steamy hot sex 🥵 thank you!

Savior - Negan Killer AU

Warnings: Warnings: GORE + violence, smut, domestic abuse, swearing, dirty talk ig? idk how to tag this lol

A/N: hey! i struggled over this one for a while lol. ive only seen like. 3? episodes of dexter so. i really hope this meets your expectations! also forgive any mistakes its late, im tired, and i wanna get this up lol. also, is negan batman? maybe. 3.7k words

"Will, stop you're hurting me!" I hissed, grabbing at his wrist. He tugged me out of the bustling restaurant and into the dark street.

"I don't really give a shit," He snarled, throwing me into a secluded alleyway a few buildings down from the restaurant. Will had taken me out to a business dinner with his boss in hopes of showing me off and making a good impression. But things didn't quite go according to plan. "You embarrassed me in front of everyone!" He pushed me against the brick wall of the closed department store.

"What was I supposed to do?" I sneered, trying to wiggle away from him "He kept commenting on my body, saying how he wished he could take me home at the end of the night and do all kinds of 'unspeakable things to me'."

"You were just supposed to shut up and take it!" Will said, voice filled with rage "But no, you and your untamable fucking complex just couldn't handle a compliment. You threw your drink in his face! You're lucky he didn't fire me right then and there. You made me look like some pussy who can't control his whore."

"You're an asshole." I shouted, tears welling at the edges of my eyes. Will's face contorted further into a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" He seethed, clasping his hand tightly around my throat and constricting his fingers around my airway.

"I said you're an asshole who cares more about his dead-end career than his fucking girlfriend." I croaked. I hated him. I hated him so much. My vision clouded with the combination of disgust, loathing, and lack of oxygen, so I hit him where I knew it hurt. "There's a reason you needed me for arm candy tonight. It's 'cause you're a boring, piece-of-shit, lowlife who has no skill whatsoever. How does it feel knowing you need me to make something of yourself?" With that, he threw me to the ground by my throat. He wasted no time and pinned me to the cold concrete. His knees dug into my shoulders and his hand flew to his back pocket, whipping out the switchblade he carried as a precaution against mugging. My eyes widened as they caught a glint of the moonlight off the sharp knife. He brought the blade up to my throat and slapped me over the cheek harshly with his free hand.

"You better take back those words, bitch," He hissed, pressing the blade into the soft skin of my jugular "or they might just be your last." A dribble of blood ran down my neck with the pressure. Realization flashed through my mind. I could die right then. That could have been my last moment. Was I scared? No. Why wasn't I scared? Maybe it had to do with the shadowy figure that was slowly approaching us from the ally entrance.

There was plenty of time for me to warn Will that someone was coming. But I didn't. Instead, I stayed quiet and watched as the shadow figure pulled Will from my body with ease and tossed him to the side. Everything was kind of a blur. I was still oxygen starved and filled with a whirl-wind of emotion. I heard Will cry out in surprise and indignance. The shadow figure said nothing. It saw the switchblade with a steady line of my blood. It kicked Will in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Then it lifted up a baseball bat over its head and cracked it down over Will's skull. He continued to beat Will until he stopped squirming. The shadow figure paused and swung the bat over his shoulder. I had regained my breath and pushed myself to my elbows. The shadow noticed me moving and took a few heavy steps in my direction. I squirmed away slightly, instincts telling me to get away from the thing that had just pulverized my boyfriend. The shadow entered a stream of moonlight. It was a man. He had peppered hair and a blood-speckled face. He had dark brown eyes and a small smile perched on his lips.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He said. His voice was deep. I was partially surprised. He wasn't a bulky man. He was tall and had a broad frame, but his limbs were long and his body was lithe. He wore a leather jacket and his boots were slick with what I could only assume were Will's brains. I didn't want to look at his bat.

"W-Why did you do that?" I whispered. It was all I could muster.

"He was going to kill you." The man sounded confused, like I was supposed to know who he was and why he saved me.

"You don't know that." My voice was quiet. My eyes were glued to a spot behind the man, unblinking. He let out a throaty chuckle and dropped to a squat, leveling with me.

"Doll, he had a knife pressed to your throat," His words were gentle "Looked like he was gonna fuckin' kill you." He hesitantly reached out two fingers in the direction of my face. I didn't move. He was wearing leather gloves. The ridged fabric ran along my injuries. "Seems like he did some damage before I could step in. Damn. Sorry about that. Listen, I live a few streets down. If you want, I can get you cleaned up."

"Okay," I said softly. I let him help me up to my feet. He guided me along with one arm while holding his bat with the other. As we walked out of the alley I couldn't help but look down at Will, or what remained of him at least. His forehead was split in half, a pool of chunky blood bubbling on the ground. I clenched my jaw and forced myself to swallow the bile that had risen in my throat. And yet, I didn't feel sad. I didn't mourn him. Maybe it was shock, maybe it wasn't. "Thank you?" I murmured, though it was more of a question. The man and I stepped out onto the street and I was grateful there was no one around to see us leaving the scene of a very heinous-looking crime.

"No problem, doll," The man hummed, setting a brisk pace down the sidewalk. "The name's Negan, by the way." Cool. Negan: my Savior.

~~~

"So you're like Batman?" I asked Negan as he dabbed the blood away from my neck. He gave a short chuckle and tore away the sticky part of the band-aid.

"I guess you can say that," he mused, splaying the bandage over the cut the knife had left "but I specifically go for people that I know have hurt others. The baddies, if you will."

"Is that legal?" I tilted my head, crossing my ankles as they dangled over the bathroom counter. My palms were flat on the surface of Negan's marble sink top, fiddling with the wrappers of the medical supplies he had used to clean and bandage my small cuts and bruises.

"I haven't been caught," Negan shrugged "besides, it's less work for the police. They don't have to do any interrogation bullshit or anything. I usually catch people in the act, like tonight. Then I do my thing."

"Do you kill everyone?"

"Only the bad people," He reminded, tossing away a bloody tissue "only people who have hurt others. But, yes, usually the offender ends up on the business end of Lucille over there." He pointed out the door into the living room, where the still-bloody bat rested against a chair. I furrowed my brow.

"Well, doesn't that make you a bad guy?" I pressed. He tapped my knee and I dropped down to the tile floor, tucking my hair behind my ear and gathering some of the scraps.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you still kill people, right? Even if they're bad? So doesn't that still make you a killer?" Negan was quiet for a minute. "Let's put it this way," I continued "What would you do if you came across someone who was like you; someone who hurt the bad people. Would you still kill them. They're hurting people." Negan took a deep breath and let it out with a contemplative sigh, itching his bearded chin.

"I'm not sure," He mused "I've never really thought about it before. See, I don't consider myself a bad person per say. Yea, what I'm doing might be considered fucked up. But I'm doing it for the right reason. I'm protecting people by attacking their attackers. In the end, someone's saved." He brushed off his hands and led me out of the bathroom, flicking the light off. "Would you rather me not have saved you tonight?"

"No," I said immediately "thank you. Really, thank you. You saved my life. Will is...was...always a dick, but I never thought he'd actually hurt me. I guess that proves people can have a whole bunch of layers." Negan nodded and moved to the kitchen. He raised a bottle of whiskey as an offering. I shook my head but he poured himself a glass.

"I was just doing my job," Negan grinned sympathetically "I'm sorry your boyfriend was an asshole who tried to murder you." I shrugged, amusement in my eyes.

"Eh, it happens to everyone." I smiled as he let out another laugh. I felt as if I shouldn't be laughing, but at the same time, everyone has their own responses to almost getting stabbed to death in an alley. So I let myself have this moment. Besides, Negan was a good guy to be around. He made me feel safe, comfortable, secure. Everything I needed right now. "So, Negan, what do you do? Surely vigilante-ing can't pay well, and this apartment is really nice."

"I'm a retired baseball player," Negan said, sipping his whiskey and settling into one of the armchairs in the living room "Hence the bat."

"Were you any good?" I asked. He let out a loud scoff.

"Was I any good?" He mocked "Sweetheart, I have a whole damn trophy room. I was fucking amazing. I just got old."

"So you're rich with no real job, you kill bad guys, and you have a massive ego," I listed "You really are like Batman, aren't you?"

~~~

Negan let me stay on his couch that night. It was leather, like everything else that man seemed to own, but it was comfortable. I woke up to the smell of bacon filling the air. I groaned and rubbed my fists against my eyes, clearing them of sleep. I stretched my arms above my head in a yawn and rolled off the couch, stumbling into the kitchen. Negan was hunched over the bubbling pan, dodging pellets of grease as they shot up at him.

"Smells good!" I purred, closing my eyes and taking a deep inhale.

"Good," He grumbled "You better fucking enjoy it because I've gotten burned at least three times." I laughed and walked up to him examining the small red patches that dotted his arms.

"You didn't have to make me breakfast you know."

"Yea, but I wanted to make sure you were comfortable," He sighed, turning off the stove and scooping the cooked bacon onto a paper towel. "Besides, I was craving some bacon when I woke up. I haven't had someone to share a meal with in a while."

"Well, if you want, you can come by my house for dinner." I offered, crunching down on a piece of bacon "I've been meaning to whip out the family alfredo recipe for a while, maybe a hot date would give me that incentive." I gave him a playful wink and he chuckled.

"Sure thing, doll," He hummed, putting the pan in the sink "I love me some fucking spaghetti. I'll see you around seven?"

"Sounds good."

~~~

I ran down the sidewalk, chest heaving. There was enough darkness to cover me, but I still kept my head down to prevent recognition. I held my hands close to my stomach, praying that the blood on my fingers wouldn't drip on the pavement and leave a trail. I had been on my way home from the store when I heard some commotion coming from an alley. My first instinct was to run, but then I heard the girl crying for help. Negan came to mind, what he did, how he helped people. I couldn't turn away. I marched down the alley and saw a greasy man pinning a woman to the wall of a building. Flashbacks of the night before hit me like a train. I looked on top of the alley dumpster  and saw a crowbar perched on one of the lids. I grabbed it and stormed up to the man, whacking him upside the head with the weapon. I kicked him to the side and brought the crowbar over my head before swinging it down. It connected with his face in a sickening 'thwack.' I thought of Will. I thought of what might of happened if Negan had never stopped him. I thought of all the times that bastard had gotten drunk and told me I was nothing. I let the rage bubble up and fuel my beating. By the time I was pulled back into the moment, my muscles were screaming, the woman was gone, and the man's face was unrecognizable. I tossed the crowbar into the dumpster and ran back home.

Dried blood is extremely hard to wash off. It sticks to your skin in flakes, creating a pattern of red veins crawling over your hands. Fuck. I scrubbed as hard as I could under the rushing water of the sink, pumping more and more soap into my hand. It was under my fingernails. It was stuck in my palm prints. Shit, did I leave fingerprints at the scene? Would they be coming for me? With a hiss, I rubbed even harder at my skin, small flecks of blood turning the sink water red.

Suddenly, my door opened.

"I'm ready for my s'getties!" Negan boomed with a wide smile. My head whipped around, looking at him with wide eyes. His grin faded and he crossed the room in record time, grabbing my wrists and turning the sink off. "Is this fucking blood?" He snarled, bringing my hands up to my face. I clenched my jaw and dropped my eyes to my feet. "Jesus, who's is it? Answer me!"

"I-I heard someone screaming on the way home," I said quietly, eyes still downcast "I thought I would help..." His jaw went slack and he let go of my hands, running his fingers through his hair.

"Jesus fuck, you can't just go around killing people!"

"Why not?" I snapped, eyes meeting his "You do it all the time? What's the difference? Why can't I help people?"

"Because it...Because you just can't!" Negan growled, shaking his head.

"Why are you so special?" I hissed back, drying my hands off on a towel before tossing it at him "It's not like you can get a permit for fucking murder. Why do you do it, anyways? Is it some perverted thing? Do you get off on saving people from attackers?"

"Watch yourself." Negan warned, eyes darkening.

"Pfft, or what?" I laughed, tossing my head back "What are you gonna do, kill me? I'm not afraid of you, Negan." As soon as the words left my mouth, he charged me. His hand flew to my throat, squeezing my airway lightly. His hips pressed me against the counter. I let out a small gasp when he shoved his face next to mine.

"Oh, but doll, you really fucking should be." He spat, curling his lip "I could snap your neck right here, right now." He gave a small squeeze to emphasize his words. I let out a strangled moan. We both froze. "Are you turned on right now?" He muttered, furrowing his brow. I licked my lips and squirmed in his grip, pressing my thighs together slightly in an effort to alleviate the warm pressure growing in my belly.

"No," I lied, voice weak. A sinister grin curled over the bottom half of his face and he licked his tongue over his teeth.

"And I'm the perv, huh?" He sucked on my earlobe and peppered kisses down my jawline "Sweetheart, tell me, do you want me to fuck that pretty little pussy of yours? Do you want me to make you cum harder than you ever have?" I whimpered at his dirty mouth. "Use your words, doll, or I'll leave right fucking now."

"Y-Yes!" I breathed as Negan's lips sucked on the sweet spot right beneath my ear.

"Yes, what, princess?"

"Yes, I want you to fuck me, please!" I groaned, clawing at his shirt. He let out a short chuckle, muttering something about how needy I was, but I didn't care. Right now, the only thought running through my head was that I needed Negan. I needed all of him. And damn me if I wasn't going to get it.

We clawed at each other's clothes like rabid animals. Once we were completely bare, Negan moved his kisses down my body. His large, calloused hands kneaded my breasts, twisting my nipples between his thumbs. My arms flew around his neck and I dragged my fingernails up his back. He shivered against my touch and slid his hands further down my body. They settled firmly on my hips as he captured my lips in a fervent kiss.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he grunted, pulling back for air. I looked at him. His tawny eyes were now black, pupils far beyond dilated with lust. Both of our lips were swollen and red from the intensity of our kisses. Negan's chest inflated and deflated quickly as his eyes roamed over my body. "You're so damn perfect." I smiled sheepishly and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, looking up at him through lidded eyes.

"You're not so bad yourself," I reached out my hand and used my pointer finger to draw a line from his collar bone down the center of his chest and through his navel, finally ending right over his pulsing cock. He sucked in a breath as my fingers closed around him. My thumb swept over the hot tip, gathering precum on the pad of my finger and rubbing it around.

"Shit," He hissed as I slowly pumped him "I'm not gonna fucking last if you keep doing that." He gently pried my hand away and took a step closer to me. I could feel his hardened length resting against the inside of my thigh. The thought of him being so close made a burst of heat rush down between my thighs. Negan took a long finger and ran it through my folds, collecting my wetness. I moaned as he teasingly dipped the first knuckle into me. He pulled back and let out a low whistle. "Damn, girl," he chuckled, raising his finger to my face "You're fucking dripping. Who's that for?" His slick-coated fingers glistened in the light of my apartment. I let out a deep groan as he slid them between his lips and sucked.

"You, Negan!" I whimpered, wrapping my legs around his waist "It's all for you." A wolfish grin spread over his features as he tugged me off him and pulled me down off the counter. He spun me around and pressed gently between my shoulder blades until my chest was flat against the cold surface.

"Then if you don't mind," Negan cooed, lining himself up with my entrance "I'm going to take what belongs to me." With that, he slowly pushed into me. I gasped at the stretch, balling my hands into fists as he continued to split me open.

"Fucking shit," he groaned once he bottomed out "you're tight as hell. I bet you've never had a dick as big as mine." He pulled out slightly and I let out a moan at the growing emptiness inside. The moan soon turned to a yelp when he brought down his hand against my ass. The smack was loud and he rubbed the red spot tenderly. "Have you?"

"N-No!" I gasped when he thrusted into me for the first time "Never. Fuck, you feel so good." Negan's thrusts sped up, his hips snapping against my ass in an obscene rhythm. Grunts and moans of pleasure slipped from both of our lips as he plowed unapologetically into me. I could feel every inch of him. He was hitting every spot, dragging against my walls in a sinfully perfect way.

"You're doing so good," He purred, kissing and biting my shoulder "So good for me. You're so perfect." I tossed my head back and he grabbed my chin, tilting my face towards him so he could give me another bruising kiss. I could only keep up for so long, though, and the white bliss of pleasure he was giving me soon became overwhelming. My jaw went slack and my head dropped against the cool tile of the counter in an attempt to ground myself in the moment. "I want you to cum, doll, cum around me. Wanna feel those walls squeeze me." His thrusts were starting to become sloppy and I could tell he was getting to his end. One of his fingers danced down my spine and found its way to my clit. He circled it with just enough pressure to get me to the edge that I was so willing to jump off. "Now." Negan growled. I obeyed, feeling the band in my lower abdomen snapping violently. We reached our releases simultaneously. My walls clenched around him, milking him of every drop. I screwed my eyes shut and screamed his name, holding in a large breath as the world around me spun. Negan eventually pulled himself out and collapsed on top of me. We both were breathing heavily, sweaty bodies entangled as well as we could over a counter. I swallowed, my throat dry from panting through my orgasm. When my eyes fluttered open, I could see Negan's thumb tracing circles over the love bites that were starting to darken on my shoulders.

"Are you going to kill me?" I rasped, running a hand through my wild hair "I guess I'm a bad person now." Negan chuckled, still out of breath.

"I think I'll make an exception," He mused, pressing a sweet kiss to the shell of my ear "I don't think I'm ready to let you go just yet."

[wing-ed-thing]

Fraternizing and Spineless (Kabuto x Reader, Part V)

Synopsis: Kabuto has a fixation and you sometimes apologize to inanimate objects. Ever since one fateful day, you’ve been drawn to each other from opposite sides of the battlefield.

Word Count: 2,799

Warnings/Tags: Physical Bullying, Minor Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Threat of Kidnapping/Attempted Kidnapping, Foul Language, Derogatory Language, Fem!Reader, Would y’all classify pining as angst?@tiktoktheclockisticking​ 

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Finale

Notes: This chapter is fairly violent. Nothing’s gory it’s just violent so please be warned. I kept it as vague as I could while still getting the point across. 

If you’re dissatisfied with what you’ve had in the past, you can just find other things and just add them to yourself from here on out.

Kabuto never had much to begin with, nothing he could truly call his. And even then, they were, for the most part, gifts. His glasses were a gift. His first name was a gift as was his last name. Much like an equation, Kabuto could always simply add and he always knew some semblance of the outcome.

But now there was you and Kabuto once again found himself unsure. He remained on the very edge of your bed all night, almost afraid to sit comfortably. He shook his leg anxiously, wired by the lack of sleep. Kabuto plus you. He didn’t know the answer. To add you meant to subtract other things. He had gotten used to those other things. And now, he was unsure if they even fit in the first place. Kabuto thought that maybe by the time morning came he would know, but dawn was just beginning to break. And much to his dismay, he found himself just as unsure as when night enveloped the sky.

You loved him. No one had ever told Kabuto that in his life. You loved him, and for what? He didn’t think he did a lot for you. He lounged on your furniture. He read your books and liked to make you flustered. Kabuto dared to gaze down at your unconscious form. His hand ghosted the outline of yours underneath the covers. He bit his lip. He liked being here. He liked to read with you. He loved your smile when you cooked together, when you read the comic section of the paper, when you stayed up late to talk… But was a life with you something he deserved? He didn’t think so.

You began to stir. Kabuto weaved a few hand signs. He didn’t even look as his palm made careful, yet swift, contact with your forehead. He couldn’t. Kabuto buried his face in his hands. He bought just a bit more time to think. Just a bit more time. Just a bit more time.

And by the time you woke up, you woke up with a start. You jumped, gasping as the blanket flew off of you. You glanced wildly around the room. Kabuto was nowhere to be found. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest. Kabuto had been wrong. The morning was here and you didn’t feel better.

***

You had plenty of time in your career as a ninja to properly map out the Hokage building. But even still, you never did and found yourself, per usual, lost. The halls looked the same for the most part. The rooms still went by the same number system used back with the first Hokage. And really, you didn’t have the mental energy to figure it out, not today. Despite the amount of alcohol you had last night, you could remember what happened vividly. Iruka, the good time you had, your teammates, and the burning humiliation. Kabuto. You wouldn’t have been here if you could help it.

You let out a sigh of relief halfway up the stairs as you spotted the sign at the top. You were almost on the right floor. Swinging open the door with a heave, you were met with the administrative assistant. You followed the curve of the hallway with your eyes. You could see the door to the Hokage’s door. The administrative assistant paid you little to no mind, sitting quietly behind his large, cluttered desk. You approached, tense.

“Hi, uh, I’ve been summoned?” You peeped. He didn’t look up from his work. You opened your mouth, then closed it. More silence. You tried again “I was summoned by L—” His head snapped up in annoyance and rolled his eyes.

“Name?” He asked forcefully, lugging a large book out from underneath a stack of others. You told him your name quietly and anxiously. The assistant stopped and let out a vexed grunt. You stood completely still, tense. You folded your hands neatly in front of you. He slammed the book back on the pile he got it from, causing you to jump, and instead began to rifle through one of his drawers.

“This is for you.” He held a small envelope to you. You stared for a second at the small rectangle confused before the assistant began to shake it. You apparently did not take the document quickly enough. The assistant turned straight back to his work. Confused, you opened the letter. You scanned the page, eyes widening in shock as you glanced up.

“Under investigation?” You gasped, the notice shaking in your hands. “A-And I’m suspended? For how long?” As if you didn’t have enough to deal with today.

“I don’t know, okay?” The assistant huffed. “All I know is that you’re not seeing the Hokage today.”

You had so many questions, but knowing that none of them were going to be answered, you left. And as you departed from the Hokage building, you were completely unaware that you were being stalked from the shadows.

***

Kabuto was running on fumes. Too wired to sleep, too tired to think. He felt the need to do something, so once again, he found himself in the lab. But after looking over his selection of possible specimens to study, Kabuto quickly decided that creating plans for experiments required much more effort than he had in him. He turned to cleaning and reorganization, a simple and mindless task. He had already made his way from the main laboratory to a few minor storage closets to yet more old exam rooms. Kabuto always took pride in a clean workspace, though Orochimaru had never been as dedicated.

Once again, his thoughts returned to you and he restrained himself from physically hitting his head against the nearest hard surface. He adjusted the gloves on his hands and picked up a labeled bin. Kabuto couldn’t help but wonder about what you were doing right now or if you had forgiven him. He knew perfectly well from day one that he had grown completely attached, but never had he expected for things to turn out like this. Kabuto stacked the bin with a few others in a corner of the extensive space. He leaned against the wall with a sigh, silently defying his better judgement by asking himself if you were truly happy in the Leaf. Helplessness washed over him. Yet another thing he didn’t know. He hated that feeling.

Kabuto slammed his fist against the wall next to him and a hollow reverberation echoed through the room. He blinked at the space under his wrist, giving it another strike. He turned to fully face the panel, hands spread across the cold surface. Kabuto tapped at it, shifting to his left and right to find where his tapping felt solid and where it felt empty. But with a few hand signs in the right spot, the wall disappeared to reveal a small back room.

Kabuto wandered in, kunai drawn. In the center of the room sat a lone examination table, straps sewn to the sides. Papers lay strewn around. A few vials were randomly shoved onto makeshift shelves. A chakra test kit sat at the foot of the table. Kabuto spotted a file under the single lamp that swung from the bare ceiling. Flicking it open, he found what he dreaded most. He felt a presence at the doorway. Kabuto’s shoulders dropped.

“I thought we weren’t going to pursue the girl.” He tried to make his voice as emotionless as he could. Anyone else and he would have been convincing.

“I put a lot of effort into safeguarding this room, you know.” Kabuto scoffed.

“Well, what can I say, Lord Orochimaru, you taught me well.” He turned to face the Sanin. Orochimaru stood, leaning against the doorframe. “I must say that I’m surprised. There never has been a whole lot you’ve kept from me.”

“Sure there has,” Orochimaru laughed, a certain amount of bite in his tone. “And you’ve been far too invested. I had to take things into my own hands.”

A pause. Kabuto stared at his mentor and a life changing choice stared back. All of his previous thoughts confronted him at once and he quickly came to a realization. He was out of time. For the whole day he had been putting off his decision by staying up all night, by avoiding strenuous work. But now, he stared the embodiment of his questions in the face.

“She’s protected in the village and well loved,” A lie, but one Kabuto tried his best to convince himself of. “She wouldn’t be an interesting test subject anyway.” Orochimaru frowned, eyes half lidded.

“Kabuto, your girlfriend leveled the entire eastside base.”

Kabuto did remember. He remembered the ambush at the base. How regretfully your team of Leaf shinobi had gotten the better of him. He remembered waking up without a scratch in a mile-wide crater, your body half flung over his torso. The underground base had been completely excavated and decimated to smithereens. The laboratories were gone. The many rooms and hallways were gone. All that remained were the two of you. And that’s how Kabuto Yakushi met you.

“She gave you what you wanted in exchange for the scroll.” The kunai in his hand hung by the loop on his finger, but not put away. He methodically fiddled with it’s handle.

“A few tests for a fake scroll is a measly trade,” Orochimaru rolled his eyes, though the mischief in them wasn’t lost. “Nothing I did warranted what you gave her.”

“I just gave her what you promised.” Kabuto narrowed his eyes, “So why does it look like you’re going to perform an extraction? She’s not even here.”

“And that, Kabuto, is where you’re wrong.”

***

You took your usual shortcut home. You could always tell how close you were by the number of trees. The Hokage building had always been around the epicenter of all the bustle in Konoha, and for good reason. But most of the time, you enjoyed a break from the intensity of ninja life and settle into your apartment near the outskirts of town. You cut through a thick patch of trees. A trail had been beaten into the ground long ago. The area felt like a park and served to remind you of the scenery just outside of the village. But you couldn’t enjoy your walk this time. You sensed a presence.

You began to walk faster and that was when four figures jumped out at you from the treetops. Their hitai-ate gleamed in the interrupted lighting. Sound ninja. You immediately disappeared, a jutsu you no longer needed hand signs for, and camouflaged into the scenery around you. But despite your fast-moving efforts, you were still grabbed and thrown to the ground. Your fragile jutsu broke, but you scrambled up quickly, kunai in hand. You turned on your heel, lowered in a defensive position.

“Please go away,” You nearly whimpered, “I’ve had such a rough week. Try again next week!” You argued as if that mattered to your band of attackers.

“Lord Orochimaru has explicitly expressed that we are not to leave without you.” As the words left his lips, you couldn’t help but wonder if this had been Kabuto’s doing. Though, if he had wanted to abduct you, he could have done so last night and perhaps that wouldn’t have been so bad. But you didn’t have enough time to wonder. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a volley of projectiles. You leaped to the ground, arms coming to wrap over your head.

An uproar above you. Weapons clashing and pained cries. Your head stayed down. And as the bodies of your old problem hit the ground, you heard the voice of your new problem.

“I knew you were a traitor.”

***

Kabuto refrained from gritting his teeth.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Orochimaru only smirked smugly.

“A healing chakra that can pack the power of lightning and you wonder what we can do with that?” The Sannin shrugged. “We don’t know if it’s a kekkei genkai. Perhaps a new breed of ninja but that kind of power could do many things. One could even say—” He met Kabuto’s eyes, antagonism built up and glittering in his own, —“that power could restart a heart. With enough control, that is.” Kabuto moved forward to walk back out through the doorway, but Orochimaru blocked his path.

“What is it, Lord Orochimaru?” He asked with as much restraint he could muster.

“You’re not planning to go to her are you? She’ll be here any minute.” Kabuto hesitated and for once told a most vulnerable truth.

“I really don’t know what I’m going to do.” And he was allowed to pass.

***

“Thank you for saving me!” You scrambled up to your feet, eyes wide and on the fallen bodies of your attackers. But before any of the situation could process you heard a shout of warning.

“Don’t you come any closer, Sound ninja bitch!” The kunoichi from your team stood in front of you, weapon pointed in your direction. Your head turned towards her, confused and surprised.

“What?”

“I said don’t come any closer!” You held your hands up, truly not wanting any trouble. The patch of forest didn’t dare to make a sound and neither did you. Your teammate circled you, coming closer with every circulation. Her stance never faltered. ��I knew you were a lying rat from the very beginning. We all did.”

“I think there’s been a misun—”

“Keep your fucking hands up!” You listened, spreading your palms to the air. Your neck scrunched downward into your collar as you flinched. “You’re pretty fucking dumb to meet with your buddies in the open like this, even if you are close to village limits.” You kept your lips folded in a thin line. The kunoichi snarled at you. “Pick up your kunai.”

“I’m not going to fight you,” You expressed with a certain amount of reluctance and your response only served to further anger her. She sheathed her weapon and shoved you to the ground.

“What? You think you’re better than me, you sellout?” She grabbed your hair, forcing you to meet her eye. Her hand crossed right across your cheek, the sting prickling on your skin. Even so, you refused to fight a comrade. “When the others get here we’re going to take care of you—” She continued to whale on you with her fists. Your nose began to bleed. —“And we’re going to take care of that boytoy of yours too!”

And as you bled, all you could mewl was, “Please stop.” You felt a warmth spreading over your face and an uncomfortable mending. The kunoichi stared down in disgust from her vantage over you. A blue aura spread across your skin, not of your own control.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” She landed another blow to your face, her fist coming in direct contact with the blue air. A spark of chakra and she recoiled her hand with a growl. “You think you’re going to shock me? You think you’re going to hurt me with some weak ass lightning jutsu. Show me some respect and fight me like a ninja!” She punctuated each word with a strike. You sat up quickly only to be pushed back down. “Oh you finally got some fight in you, traitor?” She repeated the name like a mantra.

She didn’t notice how you had stopped bleeding or how the energy around you began to violently fluctuate. You had become completely resigned, quiet, and silently crying. You couldn’t help but wonder if you deserved this. Perhaps you shouldn’t have tried to save someone who wasn’t your own. But he turned out to be the only one who actually cared about you, unconditionally. You knew that you could never have had a happy future in the Leaf. Your heart ached for your new friends, for Iruka’s friendship, peace between shinobi nations, and for Kabuto. The tears streamed down the side of your temples but you didn’t say a word. You could feel the energy build up within you.

You tried to warn her, but one last punch and you knew it was over. The blue aura shrunk against your skin all over your body and then, in an instant, burst. An electric wave shot out from your being. The ground cracked. The trees snapped. You saw her eyes widen as the energy shot through her chest. The kunoichi looked at you, eyes wide in fear and you knew that by the time she hit the ground that she was dead.

Notes: Very dramatic, no? I didn’t know where this series was going from chapter 1. I thought maybe a slice of life but it’s taken a turn. Next chapter will be the finale! Woop woop!

Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and followed. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[aphrodite-made-me-write-it]

Revelations: XIV

Part Three: Continuum

(A/N) Holy forking shirt there’s like 200+ of you! That’s wild. You guys are the best. Uh, I’m trying to get either a smutty Nat fic or smutty Carol fic out tonight as well, but I am off tomorrow bc I have my consultation for my wisdom teeth surgery so I’ll post as many of the 4-ish fics i have holed up in my docs between now and then. i’m just thirsty. I don’t know. Anyway! Enjoy this chapter! Thank you so much for supporting this you have no idea how much it means to me ;~; it thaws my cold dead heart!!! 

♫ ♫ ♫

Rating: M

Warnings: Real Graphic Death this time and Rather Graphic Depictions of Abuse/Experimentation. Read at your own awareness of your mental health, please be safe and I love you. Also I tried to lighten the mood with my dumb sense of humor, enjoy. The random links in this are images of cute animals, should you need them. 

Pairing: Diana Prince x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5,238

Total Word Count: 15,110

Synopsis: Your first taste of the outside world doesn’t go quite as planned. Diana is more of a healing force than she realizes.

| I | II | III | IV | coming soon |

the head tilt!!! im crying!!! so sweet!! 

“What are the rules for coming to work with me, again?” Diana asks for the thousandth time as she pulls on her coat. 

You groan dramatically. “Stay on the grounds of the museum, try to stay within your sight if possible, and use the thingy to call you for help.” You hold up the device that Bruce gave you called a ‘cellphone’. You aren’t really sure how it works, but Diana promises when you get to her work you’ll have plenty of time to toy with it.

“All you have to do,” she explains, “is say ‘Batphone, call Diana’.”

“I know,” you pull impatiently at the sleeves of your sweater. “Can we go now?”

Diana sighs with a laugh. “Alright, alright. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“I know.” You smile at her, looping your arm through hers. “Don’t worry. I can handle myself, Diana.”

She hums, looking doubtful, but relents with a final nod. 

Diana says she normally walks to work, so that’s what you do. The whole way there, you get distracted by the littlest things. You meet your first ever dog - you love them, and would die for them. You even get to taste ice cream - though Diana is quick to point out that people don’t usually eat it for breakfast. Turns out, you have a wicked sweet tooth. (This is a fact she stores away for later.)

Meanwhile, Diana switches between scanning your vicinity and watching you with a soft gaze full of fondness. It was a little alarming how fast she’d started to develop these feelings for you - there was simply some natural, indisputable connection that drew her to you from the moment she laid eyes on you. She’d never voice that out loud, of course - though she isn’t entirely sure if you can sense it or even understand it. By the Gods, she doesn’t even understand it.

All her life, Diana was told about fate. Her whole life was centered around it, always had been. And here you are, so blissfully unaware of your own but so eager to fulfill it. As someone who was used to destiny, Diana was growing tired of it; but your endless enthusiasm was impossible not to share. Infectious, contagious. 

“Brought a guest with you, today?” One of Diana’s coworkers asks, his hazel eyes looking over you with curiosity. “Hi, I’m Marc.” His smile is probably meant to be charming, but you aren’t sure if you quite like what you feel from this man. An odd sort of hunger, an even deeper bitterness. Not at you, or Diana in particular. At the world, you think. “Not everyday Diana brings someone with her, let alone someone as cute as you.”

“She’s not interested, Marc,” Diana growls, uncharacteristically annoyed as her hand finds yours. “Come on, (Y/N).”

You follow her with a snort. “You didn’t strike me as the jealous type.”

She falters slightly before opening the door to her office. “I’m not jealous.”

You hum, but don’t respond. It’s small and more cluttered than you expected. Lots of books and papers, and tacked to the wall is a large map of the world. You take it all in like you do with every tidbit of Diana that you learn about; she was happy to talk about her life on Themyscira, but more hesitant in sharing much of it in what she calls ‘Man’s World’. So this is a bit of a goldmine, in a weird way.

“Sorry for the mess,” Diana apologizes, straightening up her desk a little and pulling a comfortable arm chair that’s probably older than you are next to her desk. “I don’t usually-”

“Bring anyone as cute as me here,” you chuckle. “Right.”

Diana actually freezes at that, a bit of panic rising in her before she shoves it away and shakes her head to clear it. “Very funny.”

You run your hands over a beautiful shield hanging by the door. “This is so cool,” you murmur in awe.

Diana joins you, one of her hands resting on the small of your back. “It’s Greek.”

“From- uh, you know,” you lower your voice, “your home?”

Diana chuckles. “No, but I do like it. Probably inspired by the Amazons.” She pauses, then asks, somewhat shyly, “Would you like a tour, on the house?”

“This is a house?”

Diana shakes her head with a grin. “No, darling, ‘on the house’ means for free.”

“Oh!” You brighten up. “Yes, please!”

She takes your hand once more, an action that’s becoming less and less shocking the more she does it. You’ve begun to reach out for her life force, focusing primarily on her emotions even in crowds. It at least makes navigating the world easier. It’s just become one of those little things, one of the necessities of being around the brunette. The calm in a storm, always.

You let Diana lead you through the museum, listening with rapt attention as she speaks about certain sections or pieces. You could listen to her talk all day. She’s so passionate, so articulate. Her voice is so smooth and there’s just something about the way her eyes light up when she’s talking about a piece she particularly likes. This feeling is somewhat familiar, in a strange way, but also entirely new. It’s like the world is slowly fading away, falling apart until it’s just you and her.

You were quite disappointed when the little tour ended abruptly, and Diana had to go assist with identifying some new artifacts. This left you alone and stewing in your odd, mixed up thoughts. You have definitely felt this before, but where? When? For whom? How can a single person make you feel so many things all at once?

There’s a sharp, painful ringing in your ears. Colors bleed together, kaleidoscoping until you’re dizzy with it.

- - - -

“You are the very best that we have, (Y/N),” Doctor Richman says with a tight grin. You feel Daisy stiffen beside you, anxiety and hatred rolling off of her like thick smoke. “I would hate to see you get lost with… this one.”

“I’m one of them now,” Daisy growls as if she isn’t a little girl facing down a grown man. “I know that means I’m indispensable to you.”

Richman laughs long and hard; a cold sound, like jagged glass. “No one is indispensable to me,” he says, focusing on you. “Except, of course, (Y/N) here. However, because punishing you doesn’t get my message through that thick skull of yours...” he grabs your wrist, fingers locking around it like iron. “Perhaps this will.”

Daisy lunges for him, but one of his armed guards steps in and shoves her hard. Richman drags you away, bewildered terror slowly filling your body. You’re yanked into a room, a few of the guards locking the door behind them. 

You’re strapped onto a table by your ankles and wrists, the leather digging into your skin and rubbing it raw. “What- I-I didn’t- I didn’t do anything!” You stammer, finally breaking free of your inability to speak.

“I know, I know,” Richman croons. “But if you want to hang around with the riff raff, you have to know what the risks are.”

A sticky goo is rubbed onto your temples, followed by strange suction cups. 

“What- w-what are you doing?” You ask in a trembling voice.

“Shh, shh,” Richman pats your head. “I promise, it will be alright. You’ll make it back.”

“No. No!” You sputter, the realization of what he’s about to do finally hitting you. “Please! I’m- you said I was too old!”

“Others are too old at eighteen, but,” he turns on a machine that makes a low, dangerous hum. “You’ve proven to be a unique individual, haven’t you?” He flips a heavy lever down, slowly at first before shoving it down with force.

There’s a violent jerking sensation and a searing hot pain that fills your whole body. Your muscles tense and spasm, a scream tearing through your throat like wildfire. There’s banging on the door, but it’s drowned out by the static filling your brain. You’re thrashing side-to-side, drool sputtering from your lips. 

The world is yanked away, unbidden, and you are plunged into a darkness that’s become all too familiar.

It’s a meadow, this time; blue mountains surround the valley like a cradling mother, watchful and patient. You can’t see the sun, but you feel the warmth of its rays. The wildflowers smell sweet, peaceful, as you walk through them. Ahead, there is a woman, and she is waiting with a smile.

She is older; wrinkles etched deep into her skin, carved from stone. “Oh, sweet one,” she coos as you fall into her embrace. 

“I keep failing you,” you admit pathetically.

“You could never fail me, child,” the woman murmurs. “Your time has not yet come.”

“Don’t send me back-”

“You must go back. It is your destiny.”

“Why do I have a destiny when all I am is trapped?” You ask, pulling away from her with a frown. 

“I cannot tell you,” she reminds. You groan and she chuckles. “You are not ready, yet. The time will come, and you will know when it is here.”

Her hand squeezes your shoulder. 

You wake up in the barracks, Daisy’s grief-stricken expression the first thing you see.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so- I’m so, so sorry.” She repeats, pulling you into a hug. You return it, burying your head in her shoulder. She’s trembling. “I promise, I’ll never-”

“We’re going to get out of here, Daisy,” you promise softly. “Even if I die doing it.”

- - - -

You’re pulled out of your memory by the feeling of something sharp pressing into your spine. You stiffen, but force yourself to remain calm.

“D-14,” a man’s voice says quietly. “We have been sent to detain you and return you to-”

Without warning, you turn around and grab the man’s arm, twisting it hard until he lets out a pained yell. You realize, with a jolt, that the campus surrounding the museum is unusually deserted. At least, unusual in the sense that, moments ago, it was teeming with life. 

More men are approaching, each with guns. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you snarl, snatching the knife and throwing the man aside with so much force you hear a crunch when he hits the ground. 

You face those approaching you. You feel that thrum of power rushing over you like high tide, filling your body with a sense of purpose. Your four wings stretch out behind you to their full length, causing a few of the assailants to falter in their approach. Your eyes are glowing white, a golden aura surrounding your body.

A gun is fired, but the bullet smacks right into the ground instead. Another round with the same result, and someone lets out a frustrated groan. You take this chance to lunge for them, scooping one into the air and dropping him on one of his companions from a considerable height.

There’s a lot of them, and you probably shouldn’t be just doing this out in the open like this. “The phone!” You gasp, reaching into your pocket to grab the device. “BatPhone, call Diana!”

“Did you mean, ‘Call Domino’s Pizza’?” The phone responds. 

You land a swift kick into someone’s gut, using their momentum against them to cause them to fall flat on their face. “No! Call Diana Prince!”

“Showing results for: Princess Diana Death Conspiracy.” 

“Fucking fuck!” You scream in frustration, punching the next man much harder than necessary. He flies right into someone else, his jaw bent at a disturbing angle. oops. “CALL. DIANA. PRINCE.”

“Calling Diana Prince…” 

“Fucking what the hell,” you snarl, taking to the air once more. She answers on the third ring.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m-” you throw the knife you had taken from the first guy; it lands right in someone’s shoulder, causing them to yowl in pain. “I’m outside. Richman’s goons.”

“Be right there.” Diana hangs up immediately and you breathe a sigh of relief. You summon a pulse of energy, throwing several people back so you can pocket the phone.

With the thought of Diana coming soon, you find a new spring in your actions. You land more hits, at least. Either that, or it’s because the stupid phone has you in a deep, focused raged. 

Someone’s fingers close around your neck from behind, throwing their weight hard into your back so you can’t move your wings. You let out a strangled cry, jabbing your elbow into their ribcage. No use; their grip only tightens. Fingers close around your ankle, and that’s when it happens.

That web of life that you’re always aware of, the fabric of existence - you feel something inside of you give it a sharp tug. 

The person behind you collapses, unmoving, like a broken doll. Just like that, the flame was snuffed out - a mere candle in a hurricane.

The horror of it is enough to stun you. It stuns everyone, you think; they all look at you with blatant terror. Your ankle is released in repulsion. An order is given, and they advance once more. You find yourself far weaker, suddenly; maybe doing that had somehow drained you… you really need Diana to hurry the fuck up.

You’re reduced to using your blasts of energy, beams of light bursting from your palms. It’s the easiest way to keep them far away from you. You can’t ever, ever do what you had done again. You can’t just take a life like that - can’t snip the strings of a life as if it were mere yarn.

It makes your stomach churn. Or, maybe, that’s just the headache that’s building in your temples. The emptiness of the body behind you feels like a gaping cavern, a great taboo. You’ve crossed some kind of line, but you aren’t sure who has drawn it.

A golden, glowing object emerges from seemingly nowhere, tossing a few of the guards in the air and away from you. You realize, with knee-weakening relief, that it’s Diana; that’s gotta be the lasso she talked about that you totally didn’t think would be nearly as effective as it is. 

You shove the next group of people away as the brunette lands beside you, her hair wild. 

“(Y/N),” she breathes, punching the nearest body. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” it comes out forced, more of a bark than your own voice. Your head is throbbing, muscles beginning to tremble with the strain.

Diana’s gaze finds the body not far from your feet, eerily still. Had you done that? There’s a darkness in your expression, a hollowness. The sort of look that only accompanies the taking of another life. Diana has seen that look several times over, in her life. She hasn’t the slightest idea how it could affect you, though - someone so sensitive to the life force of others.

With Diana fighting at your side, time has finally pushed through the molasses that it had become after you killed the man. She’s as graceful in a fight as she is in everything else she does; it’s unfair, how she can make fighting look beautiful.  It feels like a small eternity by the time the uniformed assholes call a retreat; your skull is pounding with pain, nearly crippling in its intensity. You’re drenched in sweat, looking sickly as if you’d caught a horrible cold.

Diana stands at your side, rigid, until they’re out of sight. When she’s satisfied that they aren’t coming back, she looks to you with open worry.

“(Y/N)-” she starts, eyeing the corpse at your feet.

“Don’t,” you rasp, flinching. “Please, don’t…”

Diana reaches out, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into her. You want to push her away, to tell her, “Stop it, I’m a monster, stay away from me!” but all you can manage is a choked sob as you all but collapse into her embrace. 

You don’t mean to open that bond, don’t intend on letting her feel the pain. The dam bursts open, though - splits apart, allows the flood to flow between you. Diana’s grip around you tightens, her own pain echoing yours. 

I killed him, you think miserably.

You reflect on the ease of it, the way it felt instinctive. You’ve done it before, too many times you’re certain of it. Guilt is a hard stone swelling in your throat, constricting your chest until you can’t breathe. You’re crushed under the weight of it, drowning, drowning, drowning.

You didn’t mean to, comes a distant response, emanating from Diana with a swell of unidentifiable affection.

You want to believe her, but you aren’t sure what you believe anymore.

When you’ve finally calmed down, Diana loosens her grip but doesn’t let you go. She keeps that bond wide open, testing the waters as she searches your gaze. 

“I’ll call Bruce,” she says softly, “and we’ll find somewhere safe for you. I promise.”

“No.” You shake your head. “I’m not- I’m not running.”

“It isn’t running.” Diana frowns. “We cannot bombard Doctor Richman or the Facility. We don’t know who knows about his crimes, nor do we fully understand the security of ARC. We have to go somewhere safe until we can-”

“I killed someone, Diana.” You hiss, backing out of her grip and shutting the bond closed. “I didn’t even hesitate. Didn’t even think about it. All I had to do was pull. It was that easy.”

“You were only protecting yourself, you have nothing to be ashamed or guilty of. My hands are far from clean, (Y/N).” There’s a tremble in her voice, a deep sadness coming to the surface that you had rarely felt from her with such clarity before. “Taking a life is never easy, and you might carry that guilt forever, but do not let it define you. That’s what separates you from him.”

The words make you flinch. The adoration spilling from her in waves, though, convinces you enough to relax just a little. You look at the body again, suppressing a shudder. You’re so weak, your head hurts so damn much, and all you can think about is how you’ve ended this life, and how little it’s changed the way Diana feels about you.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, to nobody in particular, swaying on your feet. 

Diana guides you to a nearby bench, letting you lean against her as she calls Bruce. You don’t pay attention to much else, beyond the tenderness of Diana’s arm around your shoulders and the steady thrum of her heartbeat. Sleep comes eagerly.

- - - -

Sometimes, you think you can see her face. The open horror of it. The realization of inescapable death. You don’t remember the full scope of it, the real scale, but if you let your mind wander too far unsupervised, there’s a flash like lightning. Only, rather than thunder, there’s a desperate scream of your name that follows.

You and Diana are on something like lockdown in her apartment, keen on staying inside until Bruce secures a proper meeting spot for the Justice League that isn’t underneath Gotham City. You are, understandably, hesitant in being holed up underground for long periods of time.

It’s been nearly four days since the incident, and in that time, you and Diana have settled into sort of a routine. She’s been teaching you to cook, though you aren’t very good at it. You like the busy-work of it, at least. Your favorite tasks are cutting vegetables, which you do at a far slower pace than she does but at least it’s something to focus on.

You think she notices that you’re starting to slip out of yourself. Drift away to distant worlds. She sees the bags under your eyes, feels you toss and turn all night on your side of the bed. It hurts her in ways she’d almost forgotten, cuts her deep to the core. She’s patient, though. She’s not going to force you into talking about anything.

But she notices. And she’s worried.

She coaxes you into long movie nights, legs tangled up underneath a soft blanket on her couch or in her bed. You haven’t been paying attention tonight, though. You’re on edge. Jittery. Anxious. If you blink, you see her face - or, chillingly, the face of the man as you’d drained his life. But you’re so TIRED and Diana is so WARM. 

You doubt you’ve had your eyes closed for longer than a handful of seconds before you feel the cold. The biting rain. The roar of the thunder and the wail of sirens. The wailing that turns into screaming, the bitter chill turning to splitting pain. Wind pushing you down, down. A hand, reaching, grasping- 

You jolt awake with a gasp. Diana pauses the movie and fixes you with a concerned expression as you struggle to catch your breath.

“You have to talk about this.” She says simply, in that indisputably sultry of hers that always manages to sooth your anxieties away.

You swallow around a lump that had risen in your throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she sighs, shaking her head. Her hand finds your leg beneath the blanket, squeezing the exposed skin of your thigh. “Please, don’t lie about this. If you can’t talk about it, then show me. I can’t stand watching you suffer in silence.”

You’ve often felt her concern before, but you’ve never heard her voice it in such desperation. She wants to understand. She wants to help. So why can’t you just let her? It’s like there’s this great, big mental barrier keeping you in a stronghold. Under lock and key, something terrible is being hidden from you.

Instead of opening that door, you turn to another. A far less menacing one, but still one that you seldom visited. “Have you ever been in love?”

The question surprises her. She pulls her hand away as if you’d burned her. “What?”

“I mean,” you clear your throat, blushing at your stupid choice of subject. Why is this so hard to talk about? Especially with her? Stupid, stupid, stupid, you chide yourself. “You’ve- there has to have been- I mean, look at you.” Now is a fantastic time to shut up! “Just- have you ever? Fallen in love…?” Of course you choose not to shut up. Why even bother opening your mouth? Now you sound like a complete idiot. 

Diana stares at you with an unreadable expression. You try not to prod around at what she’s feeling, though you’re always so aware of her presence it’s nearly all you can focus on most of the time. “I have,” she answers softly, after a pause that’s so long it makes your skin crawl. 

You nod dumbly, not needing your powers to see the pain that comes with this confession. Rather than ask about it, or do your own unnecessary digging, you say: “I think I was, too.”

Silence.

“How did it feel, for you?” You inquire, avoiding her gaze in favor of staring down at your lap. 

She hums, the sound, for some reason, sending a shiver along your spine. “Some say that it’s all-consuming, but I’m not so sure of that. I was more aware of the world than ever, just because he was with me. Every color more vibrant, each song more pleasant…” Her tone takes on a dreamy sort of edge. World away, No, you remind yourself. Decades away.

You nod, a frown pulling at your lips. “But it always hurts, doesn’t it?”

You aren’t sure what the powerful feeling radiating from Diana is, but it’s overwhelming and disorienting. She reaches for you, stops halfway, and lets her hand fall on top of the blanket. 

“Not always,” she murmurs. 

You swear, despite not holding any contact, you hear her say in a very distant voice, as if in a thought, Not with you. 

- - - -

You’ve been staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours. The quiet, steady breathing of the literal goddess beside you is all you can focus on to keep from falling asleep. You try drumming your fingers against each other, but it sounded too loud in the peace of Diana’s sleep, so you settled for just staring at nothing.

Your eyes drift closed once, twice, and then you roll over onto your side to look for something else to occupy your mind. You’re left staring at the silhouette of Diana, her dark hair spilling over her pillows in dark shadows. 

She’s so beautiful. It always surprises you just how lovely she is. As if, every time you’re looking at her, it’s like the first time. She called you an angel the first time you met, but here she was, looking the part and, honestly, acting it, too. Far better than you ever could. 

You want to do something good. You want to make her proud. To show her that you could be-

Could be…

More than. 

But how could you ever be more than a science experiment? Bound in this bloody battle of self-doubt by a madman with no business meddling with the divine world, creating monsters out of children. How many are there, just like you, back at that facility right now? How many are staring up at the ceiling, thinking of all the fucked up things they’ve done at the whim of the man that ruined them?

It infuriates you. It terrifies you. You had been so, so willing to do what he’d asked - how many are like that? When the time comes, are you going to have to do exactly what you had done at the museum - only this time, to your fellow test subjects? The guard had a choice, they did not.

Are you simply destined to be a monster? 

“You need to sleep,” the voice makes you jump visibly. You’d been so distracted by your inner turmoil, you hadn’t noticed Diana turned around to look right back at you. 

“Sorry,” you whisper, blushing. 

Even if it’s dark and she shouldn’t be able to see you, you feel like Diana knows you’re blushing. You can almost see her smirk. “Why don’t we try something?” 

Your mind goes several places, none of which relate to sleeping. “W-what?” It comes out as a croak, earning a laugh from the brunette.

“What if you try falling asleep with me? Using your powers?” She offers. 

“Like- touching?” It’s stupid, you know. You’ve cuddled with Diana plenty of times. Fallen asleep in her arms more than once. So, really, this shouldn’t be a big deal.

Diana opens her arms in offering. “Unless you don’t want to try?”

“No, no, I do,” you quickly shuffle into place, the comfort of her taller body wrapping around yours already making your eyelids heavy. 

The bond reforms, open and free. If Diana senses your weighing guilt, she doesn’t speak of it. Instead, she manages to guide your attention to her own sleepiness. You sense the lingering emotions of her dream, still clinging to her subconscious. It’s pleasant. Happy, but sad, too. 

You feel that strong emotion again. It washes over you like a sunrise in winter. The relief of it pulls you deeper, deeper, deeper.

You’re almost asleep when you feel something warm press against your shoulder. Feather-light and just a moment long. You let the waters pull you away.

- - - -

Golden rays of sunlight weave against the tapestry of the sky; puffy white clouds smear across an endless blue. Waves lap against a sandy shore, lazy in their motion but hypnotic all the same. You’re surprised by the perfectness of the weather, the gentle soothing wind that blows from the sea. 

Beside you, your companion takes a deep breath of the ocean air and releases it with a relaxed hum. A hand finds yours, curls your fingers together. A kiss is placed to your shoulder, long hair tickling your skin.

“I love this time of year,” she murmurs against your skin, placing another kiss on your neck. You tilt your head with a pleased sigh, an easy smile tugging at your lips. 

“It’s beautiful,” you can barely raise your voice above a whisper. 

“You’re beautiful,” the lips find your jaw, then your cheek. “And I love you.”

The kiss is easy to melt into. It’s the sort of kiss they show in movies with blaring orchestral music. The kind that changes your whole world; shatters it and reshapes it into something beautiful.

“I love you,” she says again, and again, lips moving against yours slowly. Like she’s savoring the feel of them, committing them to memory.

You squint your eyes open when she pulls away, breathless, only to find a familiar dark gaze.

Diana.

- - - -

You wake up feeling more rested than you have in… a while, really. You’re still cocooned in Diana’s arms, head tucked firmly beneath Diana’s chin, and while normally you wouldn’t mind this, your mind (and body) have other ideas when your dream returns to you in a vibrant flash. 

Oh boy. Oh shit. Now we’ve fucked up. The thought comes unbidden. You had a dream like that about Diana. Sure, it’s no freaky sex dream or whatever, but it was vivid enough that it’s making your head spin. 

You probably should have known this was coming. The feelings you always feel around Diana were never what you’d consider to be on the ‘Platonic Spectrum’ but you never knew how far that spectrum varied. Now, though, you’re certain of it. Very, very certain. You think lines are blurred when you actively dream about kissing your friend.

Your friend that saved your life. Twice.

Your friend that’s helping you save other lives. Your friend that’s helping you face your greatest regret, greatest fear. And you want to kiss her.

What the fuck is wrong with me? 

You want to pull away from her, but Diana is just as strong as you are, so when she stubbornly pulls you back against her chest all you can really do is struggle and sigh. This makes her stir, just a little, her eyes unfocused as they slowly open.

When they land on you, something like a blush spreads across Diana’s cheeks. You mirror it, naturally, and the both of you are left staring at each other like a couple of idiots as the pale morning light spills through the windows.

She’s so close, you realize. Her breath is on your lips, her mouth already so close to your own that just the slightest shift could connect them. She seems to realize this, too, her eyes darting downward for a split second.

Is she going to-?

The familiar sound of Diana’s phone ringing breaks the strange moment irreparably. The both of you separate with almost forceful jumps, Diana reaching for her phone while you get up to use the bathroom.

When you return, she looks almost guilty.

“That was Bruce. He’s purchased a mountainside home in Pennsylvania that should be out of the way enough that Richman and ARC won’t find you.” She explains, clearing her throat a little. “I will be staying with you, of course.”

“Of course,” you repeat, that blush back on your face.

Will you ever stop fucking everything up, you wonder?

- - - - (Next Chapter) - - - -

Tags! @nobody13​ ❤ @fireflyglass ❤ @swords-are-cool​ ❤ @artapdarkstr ❤ @aznblossom

[nick-thecreator]

Aftermath Revival: Human AU Part 3

(This is a flashback btw, there will be a lot of flashback chapters since Salvatore is explaining himself. Also, even though this is a full flashback, Sal is telling the story in a way that won't get the shit beaten out of him [Even though he doesn't really need to change it cause it was technically all Mother Miranda] and so it'll be shorter. He ain't sitting there, telling a half a year long story)

WARNING! Death; Blood; Child Death

Part 2 is right HERE

Part 1 is right HERE

The year was 1974, right in the middle of winter, and Salvatore had returned to the village after being sent out by his uncle for some medical/surgical training at a hospital nearby. A car ride after getting off of the train, and he was dog tired, but he had to get to his uncle first. He carried his bags to his house, unlocking the door, and placed his bags inside, before quickly shutting the door, dashing over to the clinic. He opened the door to the clinic, looking around to see if his uncle was around. Nobody was in there at the time, and a note had been left on top of his desk. He picked it up, putting on his reading glasses so he could read his uncle’s handwriting.

    It read, ‘Hey Sal, I had to meet up with Miranda for an important meeting, so sorry for not being there. Remember to see your father and family sometime today. Also, go to the church at 7pm today, okay? She wants to talk to you. 

Regards, Uncle Florin

    Ps. Remember what we’ve discussed before, about your “future position”, it’ll apply today.’

    He dropped the paper in shock. He had known this day would come, but never now. Maybe he wasn’t as prepared as he thought he was. He placed his hand on his mouth, feeling some vomit come up his throat. He swallowed it back down, then tried to calm himself down with some deep breaths. He sighed, picking up the piece of paper. He folded it up, placing it into his pocket. He looked around the clinic again, going over to a shelf near the desk. He reached up to the tallest shelf and grabbed a briefcase. Pulling it down, he realized how heavy the contents really were. He placed the briefcase onto the desk, opening it. Inside was one of Miranda’s “bibles”, a med-kit, a bottle of what he assumed was rubbing alcohol, based on the smell, and a pastor uniform. He pulled out the uniform. It still had the blood stain from when he was 17 and had to work as a pastor for 6 months, having to work with animals a lot. 

He looked at his watch. 6:35pm. Dammit. The train had gotten to the station incredibly late, and the man who had driven him had stopped for gas and a weirdly long bathroom trip. The church was around a 20 minute walk away. He gulped, looking out the window as he placed the uniform down. The clinic was a ways away from the rest of the village, but he could still hear the activity of the village through the trees and gardens in between them. He stood away from the window, removing his clothes to put on the uniform. He considered washing himself off first, but he just settled with some of the herbs in his uncle’s drawer as cologne. He threw on his uniform, straightening it out so he’d look less like he had been traveling for around 4 hours. He put back on his fur-lined coat to keep warm, putting the rest of his clothes into an empty box, placing the box on his desk’s chair. He closed the briefcase, picking it up before locking up and leaving the clinic.

While walking there, he had to pass through the town. He was stopped a few times by different villagers, asking him how the hospital experience had been, or just what the hospital was like. Many of them had never even left the village before, nevermind going to a full fledged hospital. He kindly answered their questions with his regular doctor-esc demeanor. Sometimes he was stopped for a bit longer than just a couple questions, but he would quickly get back on track. The longest he had stopped was for a group of kids who ran by, with a few recognizing him. They asked where he had been, and what the hospital was like. He tried to keep going, but they had surrounded him before he could. It took their parents, who were slightly behind them, to pull them away so he could keep going. Before he was fully out of the village, he ran into a few more kids from the group, including a small girl with a bride doll. She was only a bit bigger than the doll, but seemed determined to bring it with her. They made eye contact, him waving at her.

“You need help with that?” He asked.

“No thank you mister,” She replied, putting the doll over her shoulder before walking off with the rest of the group, seeming to, on purposely, stay behind the group a little. He just smiled at her before resuming his walk.

 After a bit more walking, he finally reached the church. Looking down at his watch, it read ‘7:02’. Dammit. He formed his excuse in his head as knocked on the front door. Before he could land the last knock, the door was opened by Miranda. He smiled at her, before seeing her deadpan expression. Behind her stood one of her maids, a large case in her hands. 

“Hello Mother Mi-”

“What took you so long?” She asked, interrupting him.

“The train was late, the driver had to stop, and the villagers-”

“Nevermind. You’re here. That’s what matters. Come in.” She stood to the side as he stepped into the church. He looked around the room, noticing that, besides him, Miranda, and the maid, the room was empty of people.

“Hey, where is everyone-”

“That doesn’t matter. Follow me.” She gestured to him and the maid to follow her, walking over to one of the hallways. He quickly followed, the maid walking beside him. While walking, she turned down another hallway that went downstairs. He had been in the church before, almost all over it, except underneath the church. He had almost gone down there once, but he was dragged out by Miranda and brought back to his dad, who later scolded him. He hesitated at the top of the stairs, the maid stopping beside him.

“Doctor, are you okay?” The maid asked. Miranda heard her, turning around to face him.

“Come on Moreau, don’t waste my time,” She commanded sternly. He jumped a bit at her tone, quickly walking down the stairs and following her. She turned on her heels and continued to walk down the hallway to an operating room. Outside of the room stood Florin. When he saw Salvatore, he smiled at his nephew.

“Hey Sal, how was the hospital?” He asked, leaning on the wall.

“It went well-”

“That doesn’t matter now. Ready?” Miranda asked Florin. He rolled his eyes at her interruption.

“Yeah yeah, you have the case Sal?” Salvatore nodded, holding up the briefcase. “Everything still in it?” Salvatore nodded again. “Alright, we’re ready.”

“Good, the patient is in here. Do you need him?” She gestured to Florin.

“No, I should be good.”

“Alright, come in when you’re ready.” She opened the door, closing it on him before he could step in. His uncle placed a hand on his shoulder before he could open the door again.

“Sal?”

“Yeah?”

“You know what you’re getting into?”

“Well, we’ve gone over it plenty of times, so, I’d assume so.”

“No, are you SURE SURE? No assumptions here, you know that.” Salvatore was surprised by his uncle’s tone. He had never been so upfront before.

“Yeah, what’s with the talk? You’ve been preparing me for my whole life, I can handle it-” Florin pulled Salvatore in for a hug.

“Good luck kid…” Salvatore hugged him back, kind of confused.

“Thanks man.” He heard a sniffle from his uncle. “What’s wrong-”

“You should know. We’ve talked about this. After this-” He pulled away from Salvatore, leaving his hand on his shoulder, a few tears in his eyes. “-I won’t be needed.” It finally clicked in his head. He had been told something similar in the past, but he had never considered the worst.

“What? Wait, why!?” He asked, now confused and upset.

“That doesn’t matter now, you’ll find out later.” Florin smiled. “I love you Sal. Never forget that.” He patted his shoulder, gesturing to the briefcase. “It’s in your hands now. Good luck.” Salvatore was about to cry, wanting to stop everything before it even began. However, he knew how important this day was. The day he would take on a village tradition. So he sucked it up, wiped away the tears he had, and nodded, assuring that he was ready. Florin nodded back, smiling.

“Thanks Uncle Florin.” He smiled before opening the door, stepping in. He looked around the operating room. It was faintly lit, a large table in the middle of the room with the patient placed on it. Small tables were around the larger one, tools laid out neatly on them. He looked up to Miranda, who was standing on the other side of the table. She had changed attire in the time that he was talking to Florin. Beside her was a small table with a jar on top of it. The jar contained some black thing floating in a somewhat dirty liquid. That must have been that “Cadou”, labeled as such.

“Come closer, we have work to start,” She stated. He walked a bit closer, his eyes looking down to the patient. His eyes went wide when he saw the patient. They seemed to be a girl in their early teens, sedated by an IV that was running a bluish tinted fluid into her arm.

“Um… Mother-”

“No questions now. We must start before the effects wear off-”

“Who is this?” He asked. She grabbed a journal, holding it so she could read it.

“This is Bernadette. She is 13 years old, and-”

“I was never told that I’d be working on a child,” He interrupted. She looked up, clearly irritated.

“You were told that you’d have to work with villagers. Ages were never specified.” She looked back down at the book. “We will be placing the Cadou in the-”

“Why are we testing on a CHILD?” He asked, in semi-shock. “This is unethical-”

“IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER HOW OLD SHE IS!” She screeched at him, her face going red. He jumped back in shock, before trying to stand his ground again.

“Still. Why a child? Out of anyone?” She clenched the journal.

“So-” She harshly closed the book. “You don’t want to do this then?”

“Not on a child, no. I was told that we would be using adults only, never kids.”

“And why do you give a shit?”

“You know that people have died in these surgeries before. Why would someone want to risk a child’s life like this? And the child of a leading family for fucks sake! And even if she did live, she could become a lycan! Or worse, if there even is worse…” She sighed, walking around the table, getting up in Salvatore’s face.

“You think you have a choice in this?” She asked firmly, using her powers to wrap a mold vine around his neck. “Because you don’t.” He lifted him up a bit, lifting herself up to stand above him. The vine choked him slightly, but not enough to cut off enough air to make him pass out. “YOU work for ME, and will do as I say.” She got closer to his face. “Your cooperation can save you a lot of hardship, but a lack of such will because only more heartache on your end, and trust me, you’ll be alive to experience EVERY. FUCKING. SECOND of it.” She basically spat those words at him as he stared up at her in fear. “So, have you changed your mind?” He quickly nodded, in fear for his life. “Good.” She dropped him back on the floor, him almost falling over from the force of the fall. She lowered herself down slowly, going back to the other side of the table. “If an outburst like that happens again, I won’t be as forgiving. So, for now, just this once, let’s put this under the rug.” He nodded again. “Anyway-” She picked up the journal again. “We will be placing the Cadou in the chest cavity, near the heart. She has already been undressed and cleaned for surgery. Ready to begin.” She looked back up at him, glaring at him.

    “Um- Yes… yes,” He replied, looking down at Bernadette.

    “Alright then, there are some gloves, a mask, and a sterile uniform over there.” She pointed over to a chair in the corner, a surgeon’s uniform, neatly folded on the seat. He went over to it, picking up the uniform. He looked back over to her as she pointed to a side room. He just went in, putting on the uniform, and stepped out, placing his pastor uniform and the briefcase on the corner seat. He walked back over to the operating table, putting on the gloves and mask that were placed on one of the smaller tables. His neck started to feel like it was burning, but he didn’t want to make her even more mad, so he didn’t complain. He moved the light over the patient so he could see what he was doing better. She was naked for the most part, besides a towel covering up her lower half. He was used to working on women, so the sight of breasts didn’t bother him. She had dotted lines across her chest, marking where to cut. Miranda placed a diagram of what to do on a stand next to her so it faced Salvatore. She then tested to see if she would awaken from pain. She did this by using one of her mold vines to smack her across the face. She then used a pointed vine to stab her in the shoulder. Bernadette didn’t even flinch, being in such a deep sleep. Miranda looked back up at Salvatore. “Well, Doctor, begin.” Salvatore gulped, picking up a scalpel, trying to get into the motions as he held the scalpel shakily. The scalpel slowly stopped shaking, being absolutely still before moving close to her chest. Miranda watched over his shoulder, some vines reaching around the table, ready to hand him tools when he needed them.

    The surgery lasted around 5 hours, mainly because it went from the insertion of the Cadou, to trying to save her from it. It was eating at her body, so they rushed to remove it before it could do any major damage. However, it had already taken a toll before they could fully remove it, as it had clung to her heart and started to eat at it. Salvatore had to remove her heart to even attempt to remove the Cadou, so Miranda tried to replace it with some mold. Unfortunately, the mold replica didn’t work, so Bernadette eventually died of blood loss. Once they knew she was beyond saving and brain-dead, they stood over her body, Miranda being disappointed in the turnout. Salvatore, however, was incredibly distraught. He could feel tears forming in his eyes as he looked back up at Miranda. She looked up at him as well.

    “Don’t blame yourself, the Cadou has different reactions to different people. You did well this time. Just keep it to yourself next time,” She told him, walking away from the table to the sink, removing her gloves and washing her hands. He just stood there in silence, looking down at his own hands. He could even believe what he had just done. Once she was down washing her hands, he went over to the same sink, removing her blood-stained gloves before washing the blood off of his hands and face, since some had spurted during surgery. When washing his face, he could feel a few tears escape from his eyes. He couldn’t tell if it was from what had happened, or from the soap that had accidentally fallen into her eyes. He didn’t feel that water would be enough to get her blood off of his face. Once done, he turned to the chair in the corner, picking up the pastor uniform and the briefcase. He went into the side room as Miranda started to disinfect the tools before disposing of the body.

    He locked the door of the side room before starting to take off the uniform, putting on the pastor uniform. While doing so, he brushed his neck with the fabric, making his neck sting. He looked in the mirror, seeing that some cuts we left on his neck after Miranda’s vine had been around his neck. He opened the briefcase, taking out the med-kit and the rubbing alcohol. He started to apply the rubbing alcohol to his cuts, flinching a bit at the sting. He was able to wrap his neck with a bandage, realizing that the briefcase was less for any patient, and more so for himself. He sighed after doing so, putting the stuff back into the briefcase. He stepped out of the side room, the blood-stained surgeon’s uniform draped over his arm.

    “Um, Mother Miranda?” She turned to him, almost done cleaning the large table, Bernadette nowhere to be seen.

    “Yes?”

    “Where should I put this?” He gestured to the clothes on his arm.

    “You can just put them on that table there.” She pointed to one of the smaller tables next to the larger one, the tools having been put away. He placed them on the smaller table, then headed to the door. “Oh, Doctor?”

    “Yes Mother?” He asked, just wanting to leave the church at this point.

    “Will you inform the Beneviento family at some point this week of her death. Just say that she was killed by a bear, and that her body couldn’t have been retrieved.” His eyes went wide a bit. He had heard his uncle use the same excuse when it came to other deaths in the village. It was both nice and unnerving to find out what the true reason was. It did make sense, considering how deep in the woods the village was and the abundance of ways to get lost and die out here. He just nodded as he opened the door, quickly stepping out of the room. He quickly walked down the hallways, stepping out of the church before sliding down the closed door, starting to cry. He loathed the idea of having to tell a family that their child had died, nevermind having to lie about the cause. He hadn’t seen his uncle either, knowing the worst, but not being able to fully face it after what had happened. He put his face in his hands, feeling tears stream down his face...

[likelightningafterthethunder]

Like Lightning After the Thunder: Chapter One: Damned Smile

Fic Summary:

His breath wavered as he stared into Katsuki’s eyes. He knew he could get out if he tried. He could knock Katsuki out, hope that no one else would find them, and run back into the shadows where he belonged. Katsuki may have had him pinned down but he was in Denki’s range now and it would take little effort to send a charge through Katsuki to paralyze him temporarily.

It would take barely any additional effort to kill Katsuki.

As the sparks began to charge, lighting up the air around him, Katsuki refused to back down.

–

Katsuki always knew he was destined for great things.

He didn’t think he’d have to turn his back on all he’s ever known to get there.

Rating: T

Warnings: Eventual major character death, implied/referenced child abuse, psychological trauma

Other Tags: Bakugou Katsuki/Kaminari Denki, slow burn, alternate universe - canon divergence

Read on Ao3 (links to corresponding chapter) or read below

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Fic navigation to read the fic on tumblr 

--

Even years later, that damn smile haunted his dreams.

There was absolutely no reason for him to still think about the event. Everything had been taken care of when it had happened― injuries were treated, authorities alerted, information secured, and a press conference to tie it all up in a big red bow. There were no loose ends, no surprise second coming, no physical reminders of what happened lingering in his daily life. Katsuki would have labeled it as done, dealt with, and no longer relevant, shoving it aside in his memory so he could focus on actual important shit.

Except his mind had different plans.

When he was lucky, he could completely forget about the event for months. Other times, his dreams would be filled with nothing but that damn smile, taunting him with its silence. He could usually predict when the dreams would come― the anniversary of the event for example― but other times, it seemed like anything could trigger the memory. He once saw a bright yellow balloon and for the rest of the day, every time he closed his eyes he saw that damned smile, never wavering despite the curses and insults Katsuki spewed.

He wanted to forget it. He wanted so desperately to forget it. For the image to erase itself from his mind, for it to take the feelings away with it. He could deal with the anger, he could always deal with the anger, but when his memory reminded him of the wave of hurt and betrayal that nearly blinded him…

When his alarm jolted him from his sleep and freed him from the smile, he couldn’t get out of bed fast enough. He woke up drenched in a cold sweat, sheets singed and smoking lightly as he unclenched his hands, and Katsuki was, for once, very relieved that not all of his sweat was explosive. He slapped the singes a few times to ensure that all of the embers were put out before heading for the bathroom, cursing under his breath as he flinched at his own reflection in the mirror.

There was nothing particularly wrong with his appearance, if you didn’t count the dark circles under his eyes from a fitful night’s sleep or his clammy skin, but after being plagued by the smile, Katsuki could barely look at himself. His reaction to the smile made him feel weak, like he couldn’t handle himself and that there was something wrong with him. It was just a smile after all. There was no reason for him to react to it like a nightmare, no reason for him to lose sleep over it or to feel overwhelmed by emotions at the thought of it.

Yet when he saw the smile and saw how the corners of his mouth were tugged a bit too tight, how his eyes were open a bit too wide, how the only shine in his eyes were the reflections of light on tears that refused to fall…

Katsuki cursed.

The icy cold shower did little to help distract him from the memory, nor did his morning run nor the steaming shower he took after. He wasn’t supposed to head into the agency today, so he didn’t have any planned beatdowns for today, and yes he probably shouldn’t be hoping for it, but part of him hoped for a sudden emergency villain so he could distract himself by focusing on beating some villain’s ass into next week.

A few hours later when his phone refused to stop buzzing, Katsuki wondered if throwing his phone across the room until it stopped would be close enough to beating villain ass to work. He reluctantly decided that talking to people so they’d leave him alone was probably less hassle to deal with than having to replace his phone and distribute his new number (even if it would give him an excuse to ghost some of these damn extras).

A few individual texts and a group text were the cause of the buzzing. As the group text’s new message count continued to rise, he figured it would be easier to respond to the individual texts first. Just in case he changed his mind about destroying the phone.

Four Eyes (Rocket Legs): Hello Bakugou, this is a reminder about the upcoming Class A reunion. As the head of the reunion committee, it is my duty to ensure an accurate headcount for the event, and I have yet to receive your response about your attendance. Please ensure to respond via the following link by this Friday at 11:59PM. [Class A 10 Year Reunion RSVP]

Four Eyes (Rocket Legs): In case you missed the previous messages regarding the reunion, the event is March 28th starting at 7PM at the Shinjuku Hotel in Musutafu. If you need to rent a room for the night or the weekend, please alert the Shinjuku Hotel staff that you are part of the Class A reunion party by next Wednesday for an event discount.

Katsuki frowned. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to the possibility of being surrounded by all of his former classmates and even less at the idea of being socially obligated to spend the entire evening with them. At least when he met up with his friends elsewhere, he could always claim needing to leave early so he could make the last train or that work needed him to come in early the next day.

He closed out of the conversation, figuring he still had a few more days to decide if he really wanted to deal with his classmates for an entire evening.

Midoriya: Hey Katsugou! I was wondering if you’re going to go to the reunion? Tenya said the deadline to RSVP is coming soon and we haven’t heard from you, so I just thought I’d check in!

Katsuki: The fuck is Katsugou?

Midoriya: Oh sorry!! Typo!!

Midoriya: Anyway, are you coming?

Katsuki closed out of the conversation and moved on to the next one.

Shitty Hair: Katsuki! Are you coming to the reunion or not dude????

Katsuki: Fuck off.

Shitty Hair: Aww dude that’s no way to talk to your best friend, you know you love me!!

Katsuki: I’m blocking you.

He did not, in fact, block him. But he did close out of Eijirou’s texts.

Save for the newest text sent directly from Eijirou, all that was left was the backlog of texts in the group text. It had kept going off while he was reading the other conversations, so Katsuki figured it meant that everyone was either off for the day or on their lunch break.

Raccoon Eyes: guys!!!!! the reunion is COMING UPPPPPP!!!!

Raccoon Eyes: i cant wait to s

Raccoon Eyes: ee all of u guys again!!

Tape Face: lmao you saw us last week

Raccoon Eyes: yes

Raccoon Eyes: an eteRNITY ago

Raccoon Eyes: and like

Raccoon Eyes: kats left early so we didnt have everyone

Raccoon Eyes: so it doesnt count

Shitty Hair: Yeah Katsuki don’t leave early next time!!

Raccoon Eyes: we just have to hold him hostage next time

Raccoon Eyes: or like

Raccoon Eyes: AMBUSH him

Tape Face: i can always tape him up

Raccoon Eyes: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES

Raccoon Eyes: tape him to the wall

Raccoon Eyes: and then like

Raccoon Eyes: steal his wallet

Raccoon Eyes: cant get on transit w no moneys

Raccoon Eyes: ei and han hold him down

Raccoon Eyes: i run to hide his wallet where he cant fi

Raccoon Eyes: nd it

Raccoon Eyes: probs keeps kats tapped to the wall all night

Raccoon Eyes: free up his arms so he can have a drink????

Tape Face: explosion palms dude

Raccoon Eyes: oh u right

Raccoon Eyes: he can just have a cup w like

Raccoon Eyes: a REALLY REALLY long straw

Raccoon Eyes: make sure u tape him up w his hands behind his back

Tape Face: you got it

Shitty Hair: He’s in this chat guys he’s going to see the plan

Raccoon Eyes: whatevs we can still totally blindside him

Raccoon Eyes: ANYWAYS

Raccoon Eyes: ure all going right?????

Tape Face: ya I rsvpd a while back

Shitty Hair: Yep!! Wouldn’t miss it for the world!

Raccoon Eyes: what about u kats

Raccoon Eyes: kats???

Raccoon Eyes: KAAAAAAAAAAAAATS

Raccoon Eyes: k

Raccoon Eyes: a

Shitty Hair: I’ll text him separately

Raccoon Eyes: t

Tape Face: he probably has this muted lmao

Raccoon Eyes: s

Raccoon Eyes: !!!!!!

Raccoon Eyes: how dare u ignore us

Raccoon Eyes: after everything weve done for u!!!!

Raccoon Eyes: thought we were ur ride or die hoes

Raccoon Eyes: dont tell me ur not going!!!!!

Raccoon Eyes: im so offended

Raccoon Eyes: how could u do this to us kats

Shitty Hair: Maybe he’s at work today?

Raccoon Eyes: boo

Raccoon Eyes: how dare he prioritize wo

Raccoon Eyes: rk over us

Raccoon Eyes: his best friends

Raccoon Eyes: the suns of his life

Raccoon Eyes: the bit of happiness in the cold

Raccoon Eyes: cold

Raccoon Eyes: cold

Tape Face: coooooooooold

Raccoon Eyes: COOOOOOOOLD

Raccoon Eyes: thing he calls a heart

Shitty Hair: Lmao

Tape Face: its got a bit of warmth

Tape Face: most of it is his temper

Raccoon Eyes: boom boom POW

Raccoon Eyes: well while we wait for kats

Raccoon Eyes: help me pick some photos for the slideshow!!

Tape Face: are you doing only UA pics or some stuff since then

Tape Face: somehow iida managed to not specify lmao

Shitty Hair: The info email was like ten pages, how did he miss it

Tape Face: idk

Raccoon Eyes: ive got plenty for both!!

Raccoon Eyes: momo said pref UA pics but some new stuff is good too

Raccoon Eyes: show how far weve come n all that

Tape Face: oh cool let me get some opinions then too

Shitty Hair: Anyone have any pics of the camping trip from second year?

Raccoon Eyes: before or after todoroki and kats’ fight turned it into a icy hot springs

Shitty Hair: Both lmao but probably before it went to hell

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: ofc ive got us chillin in the springs

Raccoon Eyes: well most of us

Raccoon Eyes: kats u never get in the water w us :C

Raccoon Eyes: lets go to the beach next time!!

Tape Face: hed prob boil the water w you in it if you dragged him in lmao

Tape Face: spicy acid time

Raccoon Eyes: id like to see him TRY

Shitty Hair: Don’t tempt him lmao

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: i got like a shit ton more

Raccoon Eyes: should i send some of THE FIGHT

Shitty Hair: Maybe not

Tape Face: yes

Tape Face: well

Tape Face: depends on how many pissed off katsuki pics youre putting in lmao

Raccoon Eyes: OH

Raccoon Eyes: OHHHH

Raccoon Eyes: OHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Tape Face: ?

Raccoon Eyes: dude

Raccoon Eyes: do u have the POMERANIAN pic

Tape Face: o shit

Tape Face: image.png

Shitty Hair: I still think Katsuki should’ve taken that pup home

Shitty Hair: They’re matching!

Tape Face: image.png

Tape Face: i also have this one

Tape Face: when she tried to bite his nose off lmao

Raccoon Eyes: kats couldve named her king explosion murder

Raccoon Eyes: or just murder

Raccoon Eyes: p sure she wouldve tried to murder kats at least o

Raccoon Eyes: nce

Tape Face: lmao she basically tried when he found her

Shitty Hair: Maybe it’s for the best that he didn’t keep the pup

Tape Face: look what i found

Tape Face: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: AWWWW YES

Raccoon Eyes: LOOK AT USSSSS

Raccoon Eyes: we look FABBBB

Shitty Hair: Is that from the dance?

Tape Face: ye

Raccoon Eyes: guys what if we recreate that pic at the reunion

Raccoon Eyes: the fits?

Raccoon Eyes: immaculate

Raccoon Eyes: the pose?

Raccoon Eyes: perfection

Tape Face: hotel?

Tape Face: trivago

Shitty Hair: I’m down for recreating some pics!

Raccoon Eyes: yessssss

Raccoon Eyes: u have no choice either kats u gotta do it

Raccoon Eyes: wherever u are

Shitty Hair: Oh he replied!!

Raccoon Eyes: SWEET

Raccoon Eyes: what he say

Shitty Hair: He said fuck off

Tape Face: as expected

Shitty Hair: Lmao he threatened to block me again

Tape Face: thought he said he was blocking you last week

Shitty Hair: Yea exactly

Raccoon Eyes: HOW RUDE

Raccoon Eyes: as punishment for not paying attention to us

Raccoon Eyes: im gonna send this

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Tape Face: LMAO whend you make that

Shitty Hair: Is that Katsuki with a cat face and ears

Shitty Hair: Dude I don’t know if he’s going to kill you for that or for the pink hair first lmao

Raccoon Eyes: lmao made it just now

Raccoon Eyes: well MAYBE if he ANSWERED us

Katsuki: Delete it.

Tape Face: O SHIT

Tape Face: you summoned him

Raccoon Eyes: NO I WILL NOT

Katsuki: Delete it Raccoon Eyes or else I’m coming for you.

Tape Face: are you coming for the left shoes and shittin in them

Raccoon Eyes: NOOOOOOO not my shoes!!!!!!!!

Tape Face: its just the left shoes tho

Raccoon Eyes: BUT THATS MY FAVE SIDE

Katsuki: What the fuck are you two going on about?

Raccoon Eyes: DONT COME FOR M

Raccoon Eyes: Y LEFT SHOES KATS IM SORRY

Katsuki: I’m not coming for your fucking left shoes. Or any of your shoes.

Katsuki: I will be coming for you if you don’t delete that picture, though.

Raccoon Eyes: FORGIVENESS

Raccoon Eyes: I BEG

Raccoon Eyes: PLSSSSS

Katsuki: Delete the picture.

Raccoon Eyes: ugh fiiiiiiiiiine

Raccoon Eyes: its deleted

Raccoon Eyes: i wont send it to momo for the slide show

Katsuki: Good.

Raccoon Eyes: IF U COME TO THE REUNION

Katsuki: Fuck off.

Shitty Hair: C’mon Katsuki!! It’ll be fun!!

Tape Face: ya it wouldnt do if we didnt have our exploding star

Raccoon Eyes: ill send momo WORSE if u dont come

Raccoon Eyes: nd u wont know WHAT til AFTER

Raccoon Eyes: so PLSSSSSSSSSS

Raccoon Eyes: PRETTY PLSSSSSSS

Raccoon Eyes: PLS COME TO THE REUNION

Raccoon Eyes: ill spam u a lot worse if u dont show us proof of rsvp

Raccoon Eyes: pls kaaaaaaaaats

Raccoon Eyes: kaaaaaaaaats

Raccoon Eyes: k

Raccoon Eyes: a

Katsuki: Ugh fucking fine, I’ll do the RSVP now then.

Raccoon Eyes: t

Raccoon Eyes: YAY

Four Eyes (Rocket Legs): Good afternoon, Bakugou! I just wanted to confirm with you that I have received your RSVP for the Class A reunion. As a reminder, if you need to rent a room for the night or the weekend, please alert the Shinjuku Hotel staff that you are part of the Class A reunion party by next Wednesday for an event discount.

Katsuki: image.png

Katsuki: image.png

Katsuki: Four Eyes is watching the RSVP form like a fucking hawk apparently.

Raccoon Eyes: YAAAAAY URE RSVPD!!!

Shitty Hair: You know him, always dedicated to his work

Tape Face: sweet

Raccoon Eyes: are u guys getting rooms

Tape Face: yea musutafus too far for a round trip

Tape Face: esp since itll prob end late

Shitty Hair: I got one for the weekend!

Tape Face: wbu mina

Raccoon Eyes: booked a room already!!

Raccoon Eyes: kaaaaats wbu

Raccoon Eyes: u should

Raccoon Eyes: we could have a brunch or lunch or s/t thats just us

Raccoon Eyes: plsssssss kats

Katsuki: I’ll think about it.

Tape Face: better than a no lmao

Shitty Hair: If they run out of space or if you decide last second, you can room with me dude

Raccoon Eyes: awww why not a yes

Katsuki: I haven’t asked the other Four Eyes for the time off yet.

Tape Face: is this four eyes no4 or no15

Raccoon Eyes: four eyes no69

Raccoon Eyes: no wait

Raccoon Eyes: no420

Tape Face: haha blaze it

Raccoon Eyes: BLAZE IT

Shitty Hair: It’s number 7

Katsuki: Fuck you, I don’t have that many Four Eyes saved in my phone.

Shitty Hair: I’d be surprised if you had 420 contacts period dude

Raccoon Eyes: would b hilarious tho

Katsuki: Yes, it’s Four Eyes number 7.

Shitty Hair: I was right!!

Katsuki: Why would I ask any of the other Four Eyes for time off? They’re not my fucking bosses.

Tape Face: dunno

Raccoon Eyes: idk maybe ure secretly dating one a

Raccoon Eyes: nd have to confirm that its ok

Raccoon Eyes: ARE U SECRETLY DATING A FOUR EYES

Raccoon Eyes: U HAVE TO TELL US IF U ARE

Raccoon Eyes: URE LEGALLY OBLIGATED

Tape Face: o shit

Tape Face: scandalous

Katsuki: Shut the fuck up, I’m not dating anyone, secret or not.

Raccoon Eyes: thats what they all say

Katsuki: Whatever. I’m not dating anyone.

Raccoon Eyes: kats n four eyes no420 sittin in a tree

Raccoon Eyes: k

Raccoon Eyes: i

Raccoon Eyes: s

Raccoon Eyes: s

Raccoon Eyes: i

Katsuki: I’ll blow up all of your left shoes when you’re not home.

Raccoon Eyes: n

Raccoon Eyes: NO

Raccoon Eyes: IM STOPPING DONT DO IT

Shitty Hair: Hey what do you guys think of this photo

Shitty Hair: image.png

Tape Face: dude yes

Raccoon Eyes: AWWWW OUR FIRST BILLBOARDS AS PROS

Katsuki: Do we really need to send them pictures? It’s not like we fucking forgot this stuff already.

Tape Face: you can be a killjoy if you want lmao

Tape Face: im sure mina will send more than enough to cover for you

Raccoon Eyes: U BETCHA

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Tape Face: lmao why do you have a pic of katsuki throwing ei

Shitty Hair: I still can’t believe you did that bro

Shitty Hair: WITHOUT WARNING TOO

Katsuki: I gave you plenty of fucking warning.

Shitty Hair: Saying “I’m throwing you” AS YOU’RE THROWING ME is NOT PLENTY OF WARNING DUDE

Raccoon Eyes: im always ready to document golden moments

Katsuki: Shut the fuck up. We won the training exercise so what’s it fucking matter?

Shitty Hair: YOU THREW ME!!

Katsuki: Tape Face caught you before you could get hurt.

Shitty Hair: YOU /THREW/ ME!!!!!!

Tape Face: barely caught

Katsuki: Whatever.

Raccoon Eyes: im still impressed by how eASY u made that look

Katsuki: What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?

Raccoon Eyes: o look conveniently timed distraction photo spam

Katsuki sighed as he continued the conversation, commenting here and there on the photos his friends sent for judgement. In retrospect, he probably should have tried to talk to Shion first, since there was a chance she would have denied the time off for the reunion. Although, knowing her, she would have accepted just to force Katsuki into socializing. He opened up a new text message, figuring that if Shion did decide to deny the time off, he would at least have a screenshot to send to his friends explaining the sudden change in plans.

Katsuki: I need March 28th and 29th off.

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Do my eyes deceive me? The great Katsuki Bakugou, asking for time off?

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): I’m amazed! Usually I have to ask you to take the day off!

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Nay, not ask, but force!

Katsuki: Are you going to give it to me or not?

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Depends! What do you need the time off for?

Katsuki: Class reunion.

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Oh those are fun!

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Fill out the proper time off paperwork and have it on my desk by Monday. I’ll approve the time off.

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Just keep your phone on you in case we need you to come in for an emergency, but I’ll try not to ruin your reunion with work.

Katsuki: Thanks.

Well, so much for an easy way out.

Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose when he noticed that his phone had already accumulated another thirty texts in the past few minutes, no doubt primarily from Mina. He scrolled through the backlog, sending a few mostly empty threats when he saw photos he did not want projected for the entire class to see, freezing when his gaze met a pair of familiar amber eyes.

Shit.

In his scramble to close out of the photo, to escape the genuine smile that somehow was more haunting than the one in his dreams, he left the group text completely. He briefly thanked his past self; he’d impulse or rage quit the group text plenty of times before that this wasn’t unusual behavior. If he was lucky, his friends wouldn’t have noticed the timing of his departure and would assume he was just fed up with the notifications or the conversation.

Shitty Hair: You okay, Katsuki?

A weak laugh escaped Katsuki’s lips as he read the newest notification. Of course Eijirou noticed.

Katsuki: I’m fine.

Shitty Hair: Okay

Shitty Hair: We don’t have to talk about it

Shitty Hair: But if you want to, I’m here dude

Shitty Hair: I’ll tell the others that you left so your phone would shut up and not to add you back yet

Katsuki: Thanks. Really.

Shitty Hair: No problem dude

Katsuki put his phone down, silently praying for the smile to leave him alone.

When he finally laid down for bed that night, he repeated the short prayer, for a peaceful night’s rest free of the smile, of the hurt, of the pain, of the guilt.

But as always, the smile came.

[iron--spider]

you save everybody, but who saves you?

It’s been.

 It’s been—

 It hasn’t been long enough, because Tony’s brain is still scrambled, and his body is still broken. The scarring still crawls across his right side in smoky tendrils, and he doesn’t like anyone touching it, not even Pepper when they’re alone, not even Helen when she’s checking him out, not even Peter when he’s holding his hand. They still don’t know if he’ll lose the arm, and they talk about that in hushed tones behind his back, like he can’t handle it, like they know he can’t handle it. 

 What can he fucking handle?

 It’s been—two months. Two months, since Tony dropped to his knees and made a decision that he thought would result in his death. There were so many times in his life before that moment where he did the same—thought he was dying for something that was worth it, and he’d wanted it, he could deal with it, his own death. He’d been rolling towards death his whole life, with all his poor choices, and he was lucky to die for people he loved—

 —but this time he didn’t want to go. He felt selfish. He was willing, he was...he was willing, because his love was bigger than it ever had been before, but that made it worse. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to leave them. He’d finally found what he wanted, what he needed. All the elements had finally come together like a completed puzzle.

 He didn’t want to die, but he knew he was going to.

 But he didn’t. And now he’s here and he’s someone else. He can barely fucking walk, he can barely fucking move, and Helen keeps using the word unprecedented. She’s got no idea how to track his progress. They don’t have any examples to follow. They don’t have shit. They’ve got his wasted, useless body, taking up space. 

 Tony doesn’t wanna be this guy. He doesn’t want to be this fucking guy. 

 “And this one is on a big billboard facing I4 in Orlando,” Pepper says, leaning her head on his good shoulder, laying on the bed beside him. She’s flipping through photos on her tablet, each one showing yet another Iron Man tribute. There are hundreds of them now, thousands in different places all over the world. He gets tons and tons of letters each day.

 “So kids can pay their respects on the way to Disney World,” Tony says. 

 “Disney World is probably gonna do a meet and greet with Iron Man,” Pepper says. “You know. Costumed guy, like Chip and Dale.”

 “Oh. Cute.” Tony sighs, and he reaches up, pinching the bridge of his nose. His arm shakes and he could barely get through his walking exercises earlier, and he just feels like crumbling into nothing.

 He was supposed to die. He didn’t want to, but he was supposed to, and now he’s a shell of what he once was. He’s glad he’s here, he’s glad he’s with them, but he’s not the goddamn type to lay around and watch the world move on without him. He did that once and it was a mistake, a result of severe depression and a mark of his failure, and he doesn’t want to do it again. Morgan, for all her love and attachment to him, is best friends with every remaining Avenger, and Tony has never been so angry about a puzzle being completed without him than when he heard she and Sam finished off the Eiffel Tower one while he was taking one of his long naps.

 And Peter. Peter is out there helping anybody and everybody, and coming back here bloody and beaten more often than not. Everything irritates Tony nowadays, from the way the water comes out of the faucet to the irregular beat of his heart, but that gets him most of all. And the kid refuses help, actively avoids Rhodey and everybody else who says they’ll help him, because he and Tony are cosmically linked in the way that they both have people who love them but they both go off on their own, like dumbasses, to keep everyone else safe. Seeing his own reflection in someone he values as much as Peter makes Tony feel insane, throws up walls and roadblocks and all kinds of confusing shit in his head, because he wants to be mad at him, wants to scream and throw tantrums and work in tandem with May to tell the kid never to leave the facility again, but he knows he’d do all the same things Peter is doing. Make all the same choices.

 It’s his karmic justice, watching Peter step into the line of fire. That’s what Rhodey always says. But in the end, after everything, Peter is just better than Tony.

 And Peter was dead. Peter was dust, Peter was a shining memory floating around Tony’s head every moment of every day, present in every fleck of sunlight, silent, silent, gone—and now he’s back and Tony is aching with the fear that he’ll die again. Die in a way that they can’t get him back, because Tony himself is torn, laid up, miles and miles from being worth anything to anyone. 

 “Where are you going?” Pepper asks, brushing Tony’s hair back now.

 “What?” Tony asks, his neck hurting when he looks at her. “Did I move?”

 “You’re far away in your eyes,” she says.

 “Don’t go getting all metaphorical on me,” Tony says. “I never had the brain capacity for that shit, and now—”

 “What are you thinking about?” Pepper asks, laying it out plain.

 Tony sighs. He tries to shift on the bed a little bit without her help, but she offers it anyway, latching onto his arm. He grits his teeth and moves so he’s sitting up more, and his whole right side still feels like it’s on fire. Burning up, from the inside. His right arm isn’t worth shit anymore, he can’t put any weight on it without it threatening to collapse.

 “Where are the kids?” he asks. He knows it’s late—well, late for him, considering he falls asleep at like eight now.

 “Morgan’s watching TV with Cassie and Hope, but she’s got bedtime in like half an hour, and Peter...Peter…” 

 She looks like she’s trying to think on her feet for a lie, and Tony sighs, leaning back on the pillows. 

 “He’s gonna check in with me and Rhodey when he gets back,” Pepper says. 

 “Uh huh,” Tony says, trying not to imagine what the hell the kid is getting into now. The world is putting itself back together but it’s still a goddamn mess, and things aren’t like they were when Peter first disappeared. They never will be again. Is he even adapted to all that? Are these new, shithead villains allowing him to adapt? Tony knows the Raft lost a bunch in both snaps, in all the insane confusion. Where are they? Are they going after Peter?

 He clears his throat. “Just remind Helen that I’m tired of being down here and I need to occupy the room you’re occupying before I have an entire fucking meltdown.” He knows he sounds petulant, but he doesn’t care. Pepper’s heard it plenty of times before.

 She smiles, and leans in, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll let her know.”

 ~

 Tony doesn’t sleep, because he can’t, because too many things are plaguing him, most of all where Peter is and what he’s doing. Tony has a good view of the hallway through the windows to his room, and he stares and stares until his eyes cross, until he hallucinates, until he knows he’s going insane. 

 He sees Peter sneaking into the med bay at about four in the morning.

 The kid’s mask is off and he’s got two short, harsh slashes across his cheek, and he’s bleeding from a slice across his neck. His suit is ripped in a few places and he’s holding onto his middle, and Tony can see his hands are shaking.

 It’s like something splinters in Tony’s already broken brain, like his world narrows and there are hazy edges, both weakness and strength entwining in his veins when he sees Peter struggle up onto one of the beds in the main atrium, starting to tend his wounds without calling anybody to help.

 Tony pulls his IV out with a wince, unhooks the heart monitor, and swings his legs over the side of the bed with every ounce of determination inside him. His cane is beside the door from where he left it earlier, and he’s counted the steps from his room to the main atrium a thousand times, and he can definitely make it. 

 He struggles over to the cane and grips it with his good hand like he wants it to break, and he doesn’t want to be an old man anymore. He called himself an old man years and years up until he actually became one, in a small, earth-shattering moment that changed him and everything else. 

 He hones in on Peter when he gets out into the hallway. 

 “What are you doing?” he calls.

 Peter immediately looks up from his work on his side, and his brows furrow. He jumps off the bed with a little groan and rushes over to him. “Tony, what are you doing, you’re not supposed to be just wandering around—”

 “It’s my facility,” Tony says, leaning into Peter when he comes over to support him. “I own it. I’ll wander. I can wander.”

 Peter scoffs and moves him over to the closest chair, and Tony’s stupid cane clangs on the ground every time they take a step. Peter helps him sit and Tony can hear him wheezing.

 “What happened to you?” Tony asks, leaning his cane against the wall. “What the hell are you doing out there, Pete? Shit, you keep coming back all fucked up and it’s...it’s making me nervous, kid. Recall, you were recently...very much not around—”

 “I’m okay,” Peter says, patting Tony’s shoulder. He pulls up another chair and sits right next to him. “It’s just—a couple flesh wounds, you know? They’ll heal fast. I heal fast.”

 “What about emotional scars?” Tony asks, raising his eyebrows, his heart still hammering from his brief stint on his feet. “Those stick, bud, and I know. I’ve got lots of ‘em. They’re littered all over me.”

 Peter stares down at the ground for a second, bleeding. Tony sighs and reaches back up behind him, grabbing a box of Band-Aids from the shelf. It hurts to reach, it hurts to walk, it hurts to breathe, but it hurts worse to see the kid messed up like this. He takes one of the Band-Aids out and hands it over, replacing the box on a lower shelf. “Please put that on your face.”

 Peter sighs and opens it up, looking at Tony as he sticks it there, trying to keep out the bubbles. Tony knows they have to clean it out, too, and the other one across Peter’s neck, let alone whatever’s going on with his ribcage.

 Tony’s mind races.

 “Why aren’t you giving yourself a break?” he asks. “Huh? Sam is laying around here like he’s on vacation. Clint’s whole family is staying in the west wing and nobody’s left for a week, we check on them to make sure they’re all still goddamn alive. Even Bruce is just sitting around playing video games with Thor, and me, I’m the biggest bag of bones there is, Pete, I’m just—”

 “You’ve done enough,” Peter says, fast, and Tony sees that his eyes are red. 

 “You’ve done enough,” Tony repeats. “You’re busting your ass every night, doing God knows what, along with trying to adapt back into school—”

 “You save everybody, but who saves you?” Peter asks, loud. His jaw is set, his brows furrowed. “You saved the whole entire world, no, universe, sorry, universe—you risked your life, you almost—you almost died, and most people are rightfully thankful and paying tribute but there are still assholes out there who want to—who want to try and hurt you, threaten you while you’re—while you’re recovering, and I found them and I—I’m just—I’m the one that saves you, okay? It’s me. I’m doing it, my job, you saved me, you’ve saved me—more than one time, multiple times, and I just—you’re—you’re too important to me to allow these guys to skulk around and make plans against you and I just—I gotta take care of it, my wounds heal and you’re safer and it’s...it’s fine.”

 It’s quiet, after that. The kid’s rambling used to irritate him, in the beginning. Then he started to find himself endeared by it, and then he went looking for it, and then he missed it so desperately it was like he was missing a limb.

 But this is like…this is…

 He reaches out and takes Peter’s hands. He squeezes them, puts all of his might into his right. He doesn’t think about the scarring or being embarrassed about it, not right now. It doesn’t matter. “Peter.”

 “Don’t tell me not to do it, because I’m—”

 “I love you, kid,” Tony says, his voice breaking. “I love you. Okay? Just...it’s important to me that you know that. I don’t say it to a lot of people, but you’re—you—”

 “I love you too,” Peter says. He squeezes Tony’s hands back, and looks miserable. 

 Tony wonders what the hell he’s found. He wonders if he’s even willing to share. He doesn’t think he has the strength to push him on it, not right now. “I know, after hearing all that, that there’s no way I can tell you to stop, like, not even if I special ordered those churros you like from Coney Island—”

 “Nope, but it’s tempting,” Peter says, laughing a little bit.

 “Just…please let Rhodey help you,” Tony says. “Please, Pete. Rhodey, Sam, Clint, Strange—please, please, Jesus, kid, let them help you. Let them help you with this, however the hell you’re going about it, let them help you with bank robberies and ATM holdups and stolen bikes and bodega brawls. Okay? Okay? You want me safe, I want you safe too, and that’s the way it’s gonna happen until I can suit back up and fly out there with you.”

 Peter looks at him a particular way, when he says that. Like new hope dawns in his eyes. Tony hasn’t said anything about suiting up since—well, he hasn’t. Not at all. He hasn’t really considered it, since even the smallest things have felt insurmountable. But Peter, his loyalty, his love and dedication, shit, that’s...Tony doesn’t know how he’s earned that. If he’ll ever be truly deserving of it. But he wants to repay it. 

 “Please,” Tony says, squeezing the kid’s hands again. “I know I’m stubborn. I know May is stubborn. Don’t be stubborn like us. Not about this. Let us be stubborn, you be safe.”

 Peter swallows hard and nods. “Okay,” he says, gently. “Fine. I’ll—I’ll give Rhodey the information and—have him go along with me, next time.”

 “Good,” Tony says, relief in his shoulders. 

 “You gotta get back to bed,” Peter says, letting go of Tony’s hands and wincing to his feet. “For real. Pepper and Morgan would knock me into next Tuesday if they knew I was the reason you were running around.”

 “Running around, please,” Tony says, watching him move over to the stock cabinet. “I’ll be doing marathons around this place if you don’t call Helen right this instant. Then she’ll have to deal with me on the ground and whatever the hell is going on with you.”

 “I feel bad for her, dealing with us,” Peter says, looking over at him. 

 “Don’t worry,” Tony says. “I’m gonna give her as much money as she wants and a spa weekend, once her favorite spa reopens.”

 “Good,” Peter says. “Okay, I’ll call her, lemme just—get some things ready for her, make it easy—”

 The moment strikes Tony, suddenly. So unbearably real. Peter’s alive again. Alive. He’s really here, and he cares so goddamn much. “Pete,” Tony says. 

 “Yeah?” Peter asks, glancing over at him again. 

 Tony has been overwhelmed for two months now. Longer than that, if he thinks about it—five years, really, since Titan, since an empty grave and so much crying he nearly drowned in it—but the past two months he’s been a different person. But Peter still wants to protect that person. Peter still wants to stand by him, and for some reason, the others do too. Pepper, Morgan, Happy, Rhodey—his family, and the others, his team. Were they ever really a team before? Well, they are now. And the kid is the best of them.

 If Peter thinks he’s worth protecting, worth saving, maybe that means all this turmoil is worth it. That all these little steps, despite how tedious and tiresome, might lead to him becoming...himself, again. And Peter is making sure there’s a place for him to come back to.

 “Thank you,” Tony says, nodding to himself, a lump in his throat. 

 Peter smiles broadly, and holds his head high. “No. Thank you,” he says, right back. 

[neshabeingchildish]

Road to Dystopia Pt. 3

@sunbeameyes @kiddangers @bitchmilsky @adorkable-blackgirl @chenoahchantel @daintyurbanprincess @ciara-knightly @famousflowermagazine @imma-sensitive-btch @junknstu1f @grymrayven @supercasperprincesslove-blog 

The author’s notes were cute the first time. Idk if I can recreate it. Smh. Accidentally deleted the first time. I know that I wanted to thank everyone who read, those who reviewed and those who enjoyed this fic. I’m sorry to anybody to didn’t enjoy, or anybody mad that this is the end, because you enjoyed it that much. And now the conclusion.

Goodbye Swellview

Ray was exhausted, but knew that he needed to address the public and also work on damage control for the incidents that Drex created and there no longer was a line to the Man Cave for the concerned citizens. He had to let them know that the system would return soon, that all of the known criminals were locked away, that jobs would be created in order to fix all of the various damages all over the city, from the majestic mountain of Mount Swellview, to the lowly old junk store, caught up in the wake of destruction. He had to assure the parents of at least four missing children that their children were probably going on Goonies-like adventures to try to search for Kid Danger and would each be returned home as soon as they were found… He had a lot of responsibilities to handle that the Kid would’ve smoothed over. So, he would do it for him.

Getting Henry into the new space and immediately tending to his medical needs, Charlotte and Schwoz worked to make sure that he was stable, giving the others instructions whenever they needed, until he was settled. Once he was hooked up to an IV and resting, Charlotte addressed all of his other injuries as he slept, and Schwoz and Piper went to retrieve the helicopter. Jasper wondered, “Is there anything that I can help with?”

“You can keep me company, if you want.”

He smiled, “Just try and get rid of me.” She smiled and continued. Henry had gotten pretty beaten up by Drex before the crash, because she knew that none of these injuries were likely related to that. Those would have been more serious, but these were pretty ugly, still. “Honestly, I may eff around and just blow off Harberd for a minute to roam Dystopia with you,” he said nonchalantly, but when she looked up at him, he seemed completely serious and pretty expectant.

“Well, a lot of people cancelled their flights after Drex attacked Swellview, so I’ll bet there’s an empty seat on mine, if you’re serious.”

He clenched his fists in excitement and wondered, “You’d really take me with you?”

She looked at him like she immediately regretted it, but he could tell that she was purposefully making that face. There was a little smile in her eyes as she furrowed her eyebrows at him. “I can’t believe that we all have superpowers,” Jasper said. Now, her facial expression was genuinely judgmental. “Don’t look at me like that! You said it yourself that I’m a superhero.”

“I said hero,” she corrected.

“Exactly, and now I’ve joined the ranks of the supers, along with Henry and Ray… and I guess you too, with your… roboticizing brain chip, but turning into a robot isn’t really the same thing as having a superpower.”

“I didn’t turn into a robot. The nanotechnology just goes through my body to where it’s needed to make the chip work properly with my brain. The chip isn’t even in my brain, it’s just in my head, and the technology can travel through my blood stream because there is organic material in the…” She saw from his face that he had no idea what she was talking about, so she concluded, “I’m not a robot. I’m still Charlotte, just… like a Super Charlotte.”

“Super Charlotte,” he repeated. She nodded. “But, not a robot.” She nodded. “Can you control other machines?”

“I can… communicate with other technology. Not so much control as to kind of get in tune with them, maybe jump on their network and sometimes hack effortlessly. I’ve still got a lot of testing out to do with this thing.”

“I don’t understand why you don’t just take it out, now. We’ve found Henry. That’s what you told me that you put it in for.” She didn’t respond to that and when she glanced at him she realized that he was waiting for a response. She still didn’t. He continued, “It’s just dangerous and it’s scary.”

“It’ll be really helpful when I get to Dystopia. It’ll be like a computer that nobody can steal from me on the train! You know that I got one of those robot hand gloves for protection? You can like attach it to the sleeve of your coat and it makes for someone stealing out of your hand very difficult. I was gonna wear it AND latch my computer to it while traveling. This is way safer!”

“For your computer, I guess,” he mumbled. She sighed. In too loud of a voice, he asked, “Well, what about that super strength, then? If you aren’t a robot now?” 

Henry’s eyes blinked and she gave Jasper a look. They waited a moment, then she quietly said, “Some years ago, before you were on the team, I was kidnapped and altered to exterminate Ray and Henry.”

“I’ve heard this story. They turned you into a little, tiny Terminator, with a rap song.”

“Right. Well, Schwoz changed the signal and undid the mind control, but apparently there was still some kind of mechanism in me that could still be that way and the cyberchip was able to tap into it because the nanotechnology goes through my bloodstream. Simple explanation.” He opened his mouth and she said, “Still not a robot.”

“But robot enough,” he said. 

She rolled her eyes and touched Henry’s hand, “All set.” Charlotte began to go put away the medical supplies and Jasper kept an eye on her. “This new lair is horribly positioned. It’s out in the open, like… everybody who passes by will be able to see it…” 

“That’s a power move!” Jasper said. “It’s like, Yeah, I’m Captain Man and this is where I be. And what you gonna do about it?” 

She sighed and said, “Captain Man didn’t make the move, but I guess. Of course, that’s awful risky for those of us who are NOT Captain Man. At least with the Man Cave, it was… hidden.” 

Jasper shrugged his shoulders, “Is your assignment in Dystopia gonna be hidden?” It was a fair point. She shook her head, then he looked worried. “What exactly is your charity work? I forgot to ask.”

“Well, I actually told you a few times, but I guess it wasn’t that important to you,” she said, semi playfully. It was really frustrating to have to repeat stuff to her friends because they didn’t care enough about her life to retain anything.

“One more time, please, and I promise it won’t happen again,” Jasper said.

She nodded. He’d been pretty attentive all day, so she believed that promise from him. “In Dystopia, there are a lot of oppressive laws. The charity that I’m going to be working with is one that moves to try to educate little girls, in order to help them to not have to be child brides, or be obtained for human trafficking by Dystopia’s crime lords. There is a base of operations, which is kind of like a camp, and there is a settlement nearby - it has a shelter for some of the girls that they don’t necessarily have the resources to teach, but still have had to rescue from one of the terrible fates that happen to little girls there.”

“It is complete and utter bullshit that I didn’t remember you telling me this!” Jasper said, disgusted with himself.

“Yeah,” she agreed.

“Well… I mean… I’m not good at teaching, so is there other stuff I can do? Like… I don’t know… punch somebody if they try to steal our girls and sell them?”

“Yes, you can do that… OR… You know, you’ve got that fancy camera that I bought you for Christmas last year… You could document some of the conditions to share with the world.” She felt pretty bad for sicking a swarm of moths on him, so she made sure that she got him a really good gift. It killed her guilt whenever he opened it up.

“See? You are really great with ideas!” Jasper cheered. “Man, I’m gonna definitely start listening to you again.”

She was going to ask him when did he ever listen to her, but someone cut into their conversation with, “And what the heck am I gonna do in Dystopia?” Charlotte and Jasper both gasped and rushed to give Henry a triple hug. They both spoke at the same time about how they thought he was dead and they couldn’t believe he was alive, they were so glad, etc. He smiled in their arms and they all stayed there for a long time, eventually quieting down and just… resting, for the first time in the past few days, really.

After they were able to finally let go, Henry noted that Jasper and Charlotte were holding hands. He was just about to ask what was up with that, but each of them took one of his free hands and they sort of… were just chilling, just like that. “Are we friends that hold hands, now?” Henry asked, laughing a little.

“SUPER friends that hold hands!” Jasper corrected him. “We’ve got superpowers! I can fight and speak Spanish, ‘That’s not a-’(Henry tried, but Jasper kept going), Charlotte turns into a robot, ‘Not a robot…’ (She also attempted), and YOU HAVE A FORCEFIELD!”

Henry nodded, “Yeah, I DO have a forcefield… Wait, Charlotte, you turned into a robot? How long was I trapped in that crash site?”

“I am not a robot,” she said. They were quiet for a little bit longer and then she wondered, “Do… do you really wanna come with us to Dystopia?”

“Like he has a choice!” Jasper said.

“He does. He has plenty of choices. He could go to Neighborville as their hero. He could stay in Swellview with Ray and help him with the fallout of what happened. He could resign from hero life, hide his power and finish his high school education…” She listed.

Henry nodded at all of those unsavory ideas. Well, they were okay, but… they would include him being too far away from his two best friends, who he didn’t even want to leave before he had a severely traumatic near death experience. “Yeah… But… What could I do in Dystopia?” He asked her. He and Jasper looked at her attentively, actually waiting for her advice.

“You… could… work on your GED online, or even probably sit in on some higher level classes at the charity base, work in the community garden, maybe even do security for the shelter… You could… be a hero there. Rebrand yourself and become a new hero and a new kind of hope for Dystopia…”

“Can… I do all of that, or I gotta choose one? Because the community garden sounds awesome, but I feel like with a superpower, I should probably say that last one, or at least security…”

“You can do whatever you want, Henry. You’ll have backup,” she said and she and Jasper smiled at each other and then at him.

“I want to take a shower. I am super musty.” They all acknowledged the same. Nobody had washed up. But, also… Nobody knew where a shower might be in this place, either. 

.

After they found it, Charlotte told them that they could go first, she was going to try to get them something to change into. She’d seen the gumball maker and she knew how to work it. Hell, she knew how to make an Omega weapon.. She looked up and Jasper was in the doorway while Henry showered, but keeping an eye on her. “Jasper, what are you…?”

“I’m just… leery about leaving either of you alone right now. Is that dumb?” he asked.

She shook her head. It wasn’t. She got it. 

.

Captain Man announced that Kid Danger died saving a baby hospital, and if Henry wanted to remain a hero, he could always just be someone else. He had a different power, and everything. But… also… He knew that Henry didn’t want to stick around. While he was out working on getting the city calmed down, Schwoz made sure that the kids got home. And, he didn’t really hear from them while they were recovering. He could guess why.

To keep up appearances, they kept their social media active. Charlotte and Jasper replaced their phones and were posting hella photos of them mourning Kid Danger, but grateful for the chance to graduate and move on. Henry was with Piper a lot, showing up in her social media - mostly because SHE was so grateful that he actually wasn’t dead, but she was never going to admit that. Instead, she said stuff like, “Spending my last Swellview days with my biggest fan, my reckless brother” or some other version. “This idiot” and so on. 

But, they were together, mostly. Piper had several graduation parties to attend and was requested at every Kid Danger memorial, as President of the Man Fans, so whenever she did those things, she left Henry at Charlotte’s. Jasper had only been home to grab his things and spent the rest of the time there, too. Charlotte was working on building a portable gumball maker, because it would be so much easier for them if they DIDN’T have to pack a lot of clothes, and also, Henry would need something for hero stuff. Then, Jasper wondered if she could make him something for hero stuff too, “Since I have superpowers now,” he said. She put it on her list. 

Henry came in while she was working on that and Jasper was playing on his phone with his head in her lap. “Yo, yo, yiggety yo yo yo!” Henry cheered. 

Jasper gasped and said, “BOOK CHECK!” He picked up one of Charlotte’s books from the workstation and threw it at Henry, who reflexively and defensively blocked it with a forcefield. “Amazing,” Jasper observed.

While Charlotte yelled, “Hey!” Because he threw one of her books. Henry picked it up and set it back where it went. “Hey, how are you, Hen?” Charlotte asked.

“Not as good as Jasper, with the best seat in the house,” he teased, then took his own seat, next to Jasper and leaned back onto Charlotte’s lap, as well. 

“I’m not furniture,” she reminded them.

“We’re idiot doggies. We don’t know the difference,” Henry said. She rolled her eyes and continued working. “Are we sitting together at the city wide service?” 

“Don’t you think you should sit with your family, after what happened to you and what almost happened to you?” Charlotte asked.

“You… two… are my family,” Henry said. Jasper reached over and took his hand. Charlotte strummed his hair. They continued with their plan of action for attending the service and making it to the airport…

.

Henry was confused whenever the bird hurt itself flying into him, but that was short lived. It was short lived, because the moment that he saw the blimp connecting with the mountain, and he watched in slow motion as what he believed to be his last few moments alive took place, he wished for something else. He tried to focus on why he did this. It was because he loved Ray, but also… because Swellview did need Captain Man. But Kid Danger? 

Swellview couldn’t have needed him. His friends didn’t even need him. They had planned futures. They had decided to move on without him. But… Charlotte’s last cry. Hearing her scream his name, then all of the noise of the Man Cave crumbling… Did they make it out? Would they be free to leave Swellview? Would they… still want to… after this? Because the fire, the wreckage and the explosions that he was witnessing… there was no way that he was going to be alive for much longer. He jumped off of the blimp, hoping that at least if he wasn’t incinerated in the explosion, they would have something to confirm what happened to him. The babies were safe, so he no longer had to steer the blimp. A Swellview block was safe. Swellview was safe, thanks to him. Ray was safe. Knowing how dedicated Jasper was to doing what he said, Jasper and Charlotte were safe. He could die, knowing that the people that he loved were able to live on. 

Whenever he landed, back first, he braced himself, but he bounced, then stopped moving. Was it so painful that he couldn’t feel it? Was it so bad that he had dissociated? He checked himself. He was still glowing green and he appeared unharmed… But… wreckage from the mountain and the blimp soon came tumbling down and he braced himself yet again to be killed… He wasn’t, though. Just… trapped. “Okay, so it’s slow starvation instead of instantaneous impact or at least a torturous few moments of burning?” He sighed and tried to shove the flaming wreckage off of himself. Not only was it not working, but more and more kept falling onto him. “Or suffocation?” He said, noting that it was very difficult to breathe under all of this. He started to try to see if this… protective glow could maybe push off some of this stuff like it deflected that bird and like it padded his fall. He was able to get himself a little more breathing room, but he was pretty buried. All that was left to do now was wait - either for this forcefield to fail and these rocks to crush him to death, to succumb to hunger, or maybe something else horrific could happen. 

He tried to see if his phone was still on him. Maybe he could call someone. Maybe he could call Charlotte or Jasper… He recalled her voice screaming his name as presumably, she got out of the Man Cave? But… what if she didn’t? What if she and Jasper only made it as far as the elevator and everything collapsed, making it plunge right back down into the explosions? He shouldn’t think like that! He should try to have some hope… But… that was enough to scare him away from trying to call either of them. He tried to press the buttons by memory. Maybe he could contact Piper. She was out of dodge, so she was definitely safe and sound, somewhere… But his phone must’ve had bad coverage, because nothing happened. No connection… He was on his own, just the way that he figured he’d be whenever Team Danger left him in Swellview. “I’m gonna die here, in this place,” he announced miserably, to himself. “Alone…” He whispered and shut his eyes. Nobody was around, so it was okay for him to cry. 

Time was lost on him. He almost passed out a few times, but immediately jumped awake whenever he felt the force field slip and the wreckage get heavier against him. His jump scare wake ups always push it out a little more, but not enough to free himself. 

He thought about Jasper. The way he used to always try to be affectionate and it would make Henry slightly uncomfortable and try to avoid him for a moment… If he had Jasper here right now, he would hug him so tightly and apologize and tell him that he loved him and kiss him right on the lips. As friends, or whatever. It didn’t matter. He didn’t tell Jasper how much he appreciated him and his love and now, he was going to die alone and Jasper was going to maybe light a candle before he left for college, hopefully mourn accordingly and then move on with his life. 

Charlotte… she was gonna go… what was she doing out there? Dystopia… was she working in one of their food deserts? If he had Charlotte here right now, he’d tell her to start from the beginning and tell him EVERYTHING on her mind. He wouldn’t cut her off, or tune her out, or make fun of her for how boring or nerdy whatever she was talking about was… Had he been that person? A person that doesn’t show his friends that he cared? A person who didn’t let his best friend love him? Didn’t listen to his other best friend? Would they even care to lose him? Kid Danger, sure… but… had he been a good enough Henry to them? 

His brain was exhausted. His muscles hurt from the strain of staying alive inside of that force field, and his heart was broken by all of the regrets of being the kind of friend that friends and even his sister could just move on and leave behind. Maybe they were somewhere beating themselves up too. I mean… they WERE just gonna graduate and leave me… He felt bad for even thinking that way about them. They shouldn’t put their lives on hold just because HE had wasted his, and now, he had sacrificed it. He was probably always meant to be here. To fall, a hero, but die alone. He hated his mindset right now. He had been so sure whenever he sent Ray away. He had been so sure when the babies were safe. But, now, in this aftermath… He just wanted the death he deserved, a hero’s death… not this hell that he was putting himself through while he fought to stay alive, for what? Because starving, dehydration, and exhaustion were better than rock crushing?

.

He heard helicopters nearby and he tried to move. Maybe if he shifted a rock and knocked some down, they’d at least check this pile of rubbish. Rubbish? Weird. I must be delirious… One thing he wasn’t… moving those rocks. And it was hours before they began to move. He was about ready to throw in the towel. He was so out of it, he could’ve sworn that he heard Ray’s voice ask where he was. He answered. He’d been talking to himself and his ghosts all of this time. Might as well continue… Then, the rocks began to move and he saw their faces. Charlotte and Jasper! FINALLY. The death he deserved. Peaceful, with images that brought him joy and not anguish. He dropped the forcefield and he let himself find rest.

He hadn’t expected to wake up to find them there. He hadn’t expected to wake up at all, but he heard chatter about Dystopia and he knew those voices and he simply followed them until he was conscious again… and there they were - his friends. His loves. Of course, he wanted to be with them. He never wanted to have to be alone again, hero or not…

.

After a little bit, it became clear that they were going to have to do a little more than just help and watch after the girls in the program - people were always in need of help in Dystopia. They would wake up in the morning. Charlotte, wrapped up in two dudes and squirm her way out of them. She got better and better at putting their arms on each other so that she could stretch and have some tea before they got up. If Henry woke up first, he left a paper flower that he folded and a note that he went for a jog - he could do that, because he had a force field. Whenever Jasper woke up first, he would either stay where he was until somebody else got up, just cuddled up and watching them sleep.

No matter the order, they got up, took the train to the base. Charlotte taught classes, Jasper took photos and did maintenance work, and Henry helped with the community garden and security. 

Any time that there was an alert for them to spring into action, Jasper and Henry were able to go more easily than she was, but the times when she DID get to go, those criminals had better watch out. She had a tap on mask programmed into her cyberchip, so she didn’t need to blow a bubble… she wasn’t big on gum, anyway, and she made sure that she kept Henry and Jasper’s gum supplied. Jasper needed two, they soon found out, after watching him be thrown around like a ragdoll, because he had not been able to sleep as easily with a pill. Charlotte’s sleeping gum recipe though? Put him right out and he was up and fighting in no time. 

Henry had a hero complex with them. He still jumped in front of them and potential danger with his force fields, despite that they probably would be fine 9 times out of 10 if he hadn’t. He still asked Charlotte if she was going to go back to the base. He still felt like he was the one who had to protect them, sometimes. They were slowly getting him out of that habit every time they had to get out there and fight. Charlotte with her extensive gifts from the cyberchip. Jasper with his unique fighting style. And now, for however long they wanted to, the three of them would be as close… no… they were definitely already closer, than he and Ray had been when they were a team. Things worked out just as they were meant to! He wasn’t going to die alone. He smiled to himself as he popped the gumball into his mouth and rushed to catch up with his friends.

[nsfw-bnha-and-dangan]

Commission!

Hello everyone! Im back with another commission, this time its the final piece of the Gonta/reader/Hoshi Yakuza series! Ive had so much fun working on this series and i hope you all enjoy it as well! Its going under the cut for length!

Warnings: Torture, near death experiences, angst, general dark Yakuza concepts, but this time with a happy end!

In this moment, Hoshi wished he were dead. 

Death would have been easier than facing the reality in front of him. Death would be preferable to what was going to happen in the next few moments. He had one job. One job given to him in order to keep you and Gonta safe, and he’d fucked it up royally. He hadn't expected such high security, hadn't noticed a carefully hidden camera, and it had been only a second or two after he stepped into the main room of the building that he had been taken down. 

His arm felt broken, having snapped when it was forced behind his back as he was searched for weapons. Someone had taken his phone, had looked at the contacts and the texts that made it obvious who he was working for. They whispered as if he wasn't there, tying his arms back before trying to decide what to do with him. Hoshi watched as the seconds ticked by on a broken clock, watching as his final check-in time came and passed. If he didn't call now, they’d know he screwed up, would assume he was dead, and come finish the job themselves. 

Silently, he begged the universe to let this end, let them kill him, quick and dirty, so that he didn't have to face the consequences. But, when his request was ignored, he thought for a moment. About what this meant for you and Gonta. It wasn't just him who was going to be hurt by this, you and Gonta… there wasn't much hope for the two of you. With him soon to be dead, one way or another, you would be left to the mercy of the Yakuza as their playthings, toys that would be smashed and broken before you knew it. 

Hoshi struggled in his bonds, trying to get his arms free in some vain hope that he could fix this. He was tied up tightly, though, and there was no chance of getting free, not in his weakened state. Hoshi was forced to watch as the men he was supposed to kill chatted about him as if he wasn't even there, everyone in the room jumping as the sound of steel-toed boots kicking down the door echoed off the walls. Hoshi squeezed his shut, not wanting to see the lethal chaos right in front of him, his breathing labored as blood sprayed his face from some poor soul. 

“You fucker, think you can just tap your heels and go somewhere else?” Someone spat, grabbing Hoshi by the chin and forcing him to look up. 

“I can't fucking believe your alive right now, figured they’d shoot you on sight, weak motherfuckers. Bet you wish they had, too, now that we’re bringing you back to the boss. Better start praying for your little friends, even if I don't know what he's going to do with them.” 

Hoshi swallowed thickly as he was dragged to his feet and forced to walk out the door, unceremoniously shoved into the back of a van. They didn't bother untying him, slamming the doors and leaving him in relative darkness as they drove. He didn't say a word, fear gripping his throat until it was hard to breathe. 

He didn't give a damn what they did to him, beat him, break him, kill him, it didn't matter. 

But you and Gonta… he had to do whatever he could to keep you safe. Although, he was already doing a pretty shitty job of that. Hoshi just closed his eyes and waited for the van to stop, bracing himself as the door was opened and he was yanked out, his injured arm shooting pain through his body. Hoshi just bit his lip and let himself be led inside the warehouse, knowing that now was not the time for fighting. He was taken through hallway after hallway, each one dirtier and darker than the last. Finally, he was pushed into a room, landing roughly on his knees and groaning. 

“Well, well, well… If it isn't my fucking lapdog.” Hoshi looked up, seeing the man he had cursed with every breath for the last three months, the man he had wished every horrible death he had ever thought of upon. 

“Not talking? That's fine, I have plenty to say to you.” The man stood up from his chair and cracked his knuckles loudly. 

“I should fucking put you down, shoot you and get it over with. You had one fucking job, one chance to be the little hero my prisoners see you as. And you fucked. It. Up.” He spat in Hoshi’s face, landing a right hook that had Hoshi toppling onto the stone floor. 

“One fucking job! You can't even fail a mission properly, getting your ass captured instead of killed! It doesn't matter, really, who kills you at this point. As long as it gets done. I'm finished with you, you worthless fucking piece of shit.” The man pulled a gun from his pocket and pressed the barrel to Hoshi’s temple, digging it in as he leaned closer. 

“We don't fucking need you anymore, bastard. Have to take out the trash sometime.” Hoshi closed his eyes and waited, silently apologizing to you and Gonta, praying that you would get out of here in one piece, if nothing else. 

He tensed, waiting for the gunshot, the pain, the darkness, but it never came. He slowly opened his eyes to see the man sneering down at him, crooked yellow teeth shining in the dim lighting. 

“Not going to let you die that easily, that's too damn good for someone like you. It's more fun to break you properly, let you see what you’ve done to the ones you love, then have you beg for me to end your miserable life.” Hoshi took a kick to the nose and felt blood spill down his chin, going limp as they attempted to pull him to his feet, passed out. 

“Fucker doesn't deserve to rest, but whatever. Throw him in with the other two till he wakes up, then call me.” The men did as they were told, carrying Hoshi like a sack of flour. You jumped when the door to your prison opened, waking Gonta up quickly in case he needed to defend himself. 

“Special delivery.” One of the men said gruffly, dumping Hoshi at his feet with a laugh before closing the door, leaving the room in an eerie silence. You felt like you couldn't move, could barely even breathe, as you stared at the seemingly lifeless body of your boyfriend. 

You remembered the threats the leader had made, talking about how Hoshi wouldn't survive this mission, no chance of him getting out alive. And here he was, bloody and broken and not moving. Just as tears started to prickle at your eyes, knowing Hoshi was gone, he twitched. You gasped, getting up from the barebones mattress and rushing to Hoshi, draping over him in an emotional hug. 

You couldn't speak, only sob as you pressed your forehead to his chest and heard a heartbeat. Gonta followed you quickly once he realized what was going on, smiling through his own tears as you pulled Hoshi close. He was still unconscious, but he was breathing, he was alive. And that's better than you could have hoped for. 

“Ryoma is… here. Gonta doesn't know what happened…” You nodded, wiping your face and running a hand through Hoshi’s messy hair. 

“Me neither, but he's alive… That's all that matters right now.” In the back of your mind, you knew this couldn't mean anything good, if they had tossed Hoshi in with you and Gonta, he must have done something. But you couldn't force yourself to care, helping Gonta get Hoshi on the bed and wrapping him in a blanket. His hands were stuck tied behind his back, but Gonta managed to break the rope, letting you move his arms to a more comfortable position. 

One was clearly broken, so you tried to be careful, hoping Hoshi wouldn't wake up in too much pain. You and Gonta huddled close together, protecting Hoshi from anything that could come, no matter how fruitless it may have been. It felt like hours when Hoshi finally started to stir, groaning and gasping when he tried to move his arm. 

“Whoa, whoa, don't move, Ryo, it's okay. We’ve got you, your arm's broken, just stay still.” Hoshi’s eyes flew open at the sound of your voice, his eyes wide with panic as he attempted to sit up. Gonta helped him to gently sit up, watching worriedly as Hoshi looked around the room. 

“Oh fuck, no s-shit…” Hoshi muttered, struggling to get to his feet. 

“No, Gonta won't let Ryoma get up, he needs to rest!” 

“I can't rest! I have to get out of here, if I'm in here with you guys then that means they-'' Hoshi was cut off by a loud bang on the steel door that caged them in, yelping with pain when Gonta pulled him to his chest protectively. 

“He’s awake, huh? Damn, I kinda hoped he’d die in his sleep, maybe choke on his own blood or something.” You bit your lip and got to your feet, refusing to cower from the man you knew had hurt Hoshi. 

“Someone's feisty today, hmm? Good, I like it when you fight a little, makes it more fun to put you in your place.” You stood your ground even when the man got closer, his hot breath fanning your face. 

“Rot in fucking hell.” He laughed, his saliva making fight off a gagging reflex. 

“I'll see you there, then, honey.” Your arm was grabbed and something heavy was pushed into it, smooth metal of a gun handle making your heart jump. The last time you had seen a gun, the unthinkable had happened… 

“Now, don't get any cute ideas, babydoll, one wrong move and you’re toast. See, you have a choice to make, and the lug over there can help you with it.” Still angry, you chose to reply. 

“What, shoot you and die?” 

“Cute, but no. You so much as get a twitchy finger and both your pretty boys die, and you become my personal pet. Not a choice I’d make. Instead, you get a shot at freedom.” You paled, trying to will your shaky hand to steady. A chance to get out of here was tempting, but you knew there had to be a catch. 

“See, I want that fucking piece of shit Ryoma dead. One way or another, he's not coming out of this, but I'd love to see the look on his face as you pointed that pretty piece his way. Shoot him, right between the eyes, and the two of you are free. Two lives for the price of one, what a fucking deal!” 

You bit your lip, cursing yourself for the brief millisecond where the idea of accepting crossed your mind. The two of you had just gotten Ryoma back in your arms, as battered as he was, nothing was worth losing that. Instead, you shoved the gun back in the man's hands. 

“Id never fucking take that deal.” You shouted, storming away back to the bed and weaving your fingers with Ryoma’s. 

“We’ll get out of here together, or not at all. You can fucking break me, if you want, but I won't hurt either of them.” 

“Let's see if you regret that in a few days, darling. I'm more than happy to make your life that much worse.” You kept your calm as the man shot you a toothy grin and left, security goons shutting the door firmly behind them and locking it. Ryoma groaned in Gonta’s arms, shaking his hand loose from your grip. 

“You should have just done it…” He muttered, lacking the strength to even open his eyes. 

“No, I shouldn't have. I don't want to escape this hell hole without you, Ryoma.” 

“Gonta agrees! As much as he wants to leave, Gonta would never let (Y/N) or Ryoma get left behind!” 

“It's not as if I deserve to live anyway, especially with what it will cost you guys.” You just shook your head and wrapped your arms around Ryoma as gently as you could, forehead leaning on his shoulder. 

“I meant what I said, I don't care what happens, I'm not letting either of you get hurt.” 

“And neither will Gonta.”

Ryoma only hummed in response, body giving in to instinct as he passed out again. Like that, you and Gonta were able to lay him down easier, covering him in the thin excuse for a blanket and curling around him protectively. Taking a stand left you exhausted and it wasn't long before you fell asleep as well. 

Unbeknownst to you, it would only be a brief respite from torture. It could have been minutes or hours until you were woken up by a shock of freezing water, ice cubes smacking against your skin and making you yelp. 

“Aww, did we wake you up? Too fucking bad.” You barely had time to blink the water from your eyes before you felt a weight lift from the mattress, Gonta squirming as two sets of hands pulled him up. Senses dulled from sleep and arms yanked behind his back, he wasn't able to fight back enough to stop them, shouting as he was dragged away. The men stopped briefly in the hallway, just long enough to tie Gonta’s hands and wrap a blindfold over his eyes before escorting him further and further away. 

Just when you stopped being able to hear the yelling and struggle, you and Hoshi were pulled up, tossed over someones back like a wet sack of flour as your own eyes were covered, shutting out any light. Still, that didn't stop you from squirming, trying in vain to get free as the man carrying you cursed. 

“Fucking bitch, settle down before I make you.” Something sharp was pressed against your back and you went still, knowing they wouldn't hesitate to cut you if given half a reason. 

“Ryoma! Are you okay!” You heard a pained groan in response, knowing he had been given the same rough treatment, if not worse. 

“Alright, let's go.” You were carried out of the room, whimpering every time the man hefted you higher, your soaked shirt clinging to your skin as the chill set in. 

“Shes fucking heavier than she looks, damn.” The man grumbled to himself, kicking open the door to a dog kennel. You cried out as you were shoved inside, hitting your head on metal bars. You didn't struggle for long, barely having any room to move inside the cage. Your head throbbed where it had connected with the metal, breath hitching as you tried to figure out where you were. Bars surrounded you entirely, with only a few inches in any direction to move. Blindly, you kicked out, gasping when your foot smashed into stiff metal, unbending no matter how hard you fought. 

“Where G-Gonta? What did you do with him? Gonta! Hoshi!” You screamed, hot tears pouring down your cheeks. 

“For fuck's sake.” Someone muttered, opening that small gate to your kennel before you could kick again. A sob caught in your throat as the sharp blade of a knife was held to your windpipe, going quiet. 

“Good girl, that's better. Now sit pretty and shut the fuck up, got it? He’s closer than you know, so don't get all excited.” You couldn't find the words to respond as the knife disappeared, curling around yourself in the hard darkness and doing your best to listen for any sign of Gonta. It wasn't long until you heard sounds of a struggle down the hall before they suddenly went quiet. 

“Yeah, that's what I thought. I've got it from here, this little shit isn't much trouble on his own.” Hoshi swallowed thickly, deciding that silence was the best choice as he was marched down the hall, cold barrel of a gun once again finding his temple. He wobbled unsteadily between the pain and having his eyes covered, doing as he was told and hoping it would be enough to keep you and Gonta safe. Finally, the man told him to stop, standing in a room far from the one they had been kept in before. 

“Where am I? Where the hell are Gonta and (Y/N)?” 

“What, you still want to see them? After they refused to put you out of that miserable existence of yours? They’re right fucking here.” The leader tapped the top of a cage, flicking his dirty nails against the bars until it clicked. He had caged you, like an unruly pet, locked you in a tiny box and hurt you, somehow or another. 

“What the fuck did you do to them? Gonta? Hey, (Y/N), say something.” Hoshi got no response, chewing his lip with the effort to not fight this. He called out again, ignoring the slight snicker from the other man. 

“You fucking killed them, didn't you? What did you do?” Enraged, Hoshi lunged blindly, easily shoved to his knees when he lost his balance. The leader roughly shoved the gun against his head again, leaning close enough to Hoshi’s face that he could smell the rancid whiskey on his breath. 

“You think I would do that? Let it end so soon?” Hoshi could hear the sound of the cage doors opening, shuddering when you cried out as a heavy boot kicked you a few times. He gave Gonta the same treatment, hitting him hard enough to wake him up, in tears from the pain. 

“See? Still breathin’. Happy? Now, in.” Hoshi groaned as he was kicked into his own cage, crawling blindly inside. The door was slammed shut and laughter echoed throughout the room as the man left, abandoning the three of them like unwanted animals. Hoshi stayed quiet for a moment, fighting panic and trying to keep his head. They wouldn't be left like this forever, would they? Surely this would be no fun for the sadistic leader, they couldn't be left in here long. 

“R-Ryoma…” You called out softly, reaching your fingers through the bars. You couldn't feel anything, neither cage was close enough for you to touch. 

“Are you alright? What did they do to you?” 

“Just roughed up a bit… I'll be okay. I'm more worried about Gonta, he's so quiet…” 

“Gonta is awake, mostly, but he can't see or move.” Hoshi sighed, hoping he could keep the two of you at least somewhat calm. 

“We… they put us in cages, like damn animals, blindfolded us as well. Can you get out of your ropes, Gonta?” A few groans of pain later and Gonta made an excited noise as he freed himself. 

“Gonta managed to, yeah, are Ryoma and (Y/N) okay?” Hoshi nodded to himself, shakily taking off his blindfold and blinking quickly. You managed to get your own blindfold off, but only more darkness awaited you. The room was pitch black, the only light coming in from the crack between the door and the stone floor, barely enough to illuminate the vague shape of the other two cages. 

For a moment, your strength slipped, the face you had put on for Gonta, to not give the men what they wanted, faded. A sob wrenched its way from your throat and you curled in around your knees, shaking with the effort not to cry. 

“H-how long… will we be in here?” You managed, trying in vain to stay calm. 

“I don't know… It'll be okay, (Y/N), we’ll be okay.” You finally burst into tears, fear overwhelming you. You were freezing cold, clothes soaked through with water, trapped in a cage barely big enough for you to move in. And yet, you felt weak for crying, fighting to stop the tears and get control of yourself. 

“S-sorry…” You muttered, sniffling. 

“Gonta wishes he could hold (Y/N) and Ryoma…” Gonta said softly, Hoshi humming in agreement. Time went by in weird ways while you were trapped in those cages. At first, the three of you talked, if nothing more than to just fill the silence until Hoshi fell asleep. The darkness eventually lulled you to sleep as well, unsure of how long you were out before waking up again. 

Time passed achingly slow in the cages, especially when one of you was usually asleep at all times. It could have been a few hours or even a day before the door was open again, the sudden light making you groan and shield your eyes. Once your eyes adjusted, though, you were able to see the rough condition Ryoma and Gonta were in, chewing your lip. 

“Let us out,” You demanded, throat dry. The man, who you didn't recognize, didn't respond to your pleas, even when you started shouting. 

“Don't hurt yourself, (Y/N), it's okay,” Gonta said softly, a worried look in his eyes. You nodded and sighed, sending Gonta a faint smile. Before you had a chance to think, the door to your cage was being opened, a package of crackers and a water bottle tossed into your lap before it was shut again. You didn't have the time to react or try and bolt, just blinking silently. 

Gonta made no effort to move when his own door was opened, gulping down water quickly. Hoshi, however, sprung forward the moment his own cage was opened up, only to be met with a gun barrel pressing against his forehead. 

“Sit down, now.” The man commanded, cocking the gun when Hoshi hesitated. Finally, he relented, sitting back down and making a pained noise when the water bottle connected with his broken arm. The man disappeared just as quickly as he came, leaving the three of you back in the darkness. 

“I'm sorry…” Hoshi muttered, apologizing once again. 

“Don't be, Ryoma.” 

“I should be, though! It's my fault you two are here, being tortured for weeks on end! If I hadn't let myself love the two of you, if I hadn't thought I could be happy and make you guys happy, you would be safe! If I had just died, or never gotten out of-” 

“Shut up!” You shouted, frustrated and with tears in your eyes. You quickly lowered your voice, though, taking a deep breath. 

“Ryoma… it doesn't matter how we got here, alright? I'm glad that you let yourself be happy, with Gonta and I. Because even though we ended up here, we’re still together. We got to have those good times. I fucking love you and Gonta, and I don't give a damn what happens, nothing is going to change that. Got it?” 

Gonta perked up, moving around a bit in his cage. “Gonta agrees. He wouldn't want to have a life without Ryoma, even though things went badly. Gonta loves Ryoma, and (Y/N), and he's glad that everyone is together now.” 

Hoshi was silent for a while, heels of his hands pushed against his eyes in an attempt to fight off tears. “Dammit, why do you two have to be so… good?” 

You didn't skip a beat, smiling softly into the darkness. “Because you’re just as good, Ryoma. You just don't see it. We’re gonna get out of this together, got it? Don't… don't give up yet, alright?” Hoshi nodded before remembering you couldn't see him. 

“I'll try.” You breathed a quiet sigh of relief, trying to relax as much as you could. Things settled down for a while after that, the three of you eating slowly and talking about anything that came to mind. After everything that had happened, especially in the past couple of days, it was almost… nice. Nice to be able and just ignore your situation and chat, reminiscing about better times. 

At one point you even laughed, giggling until a sob caught in your throat. You shifted and your shoulder brushed the metal bars, reminding you of exactly where you were right now. The talking stopped after that, drifting in and out of consciousness with your water bottle clenched tightly in your hand. Things were never quiet for long, though, not in this hell. 

At one point, you were woken up by yelling as the door was pushed open and Hoshi was dragged out, easily picked up by a mountain of a man despite his attempts to fight. Both you and Gonta shouted after him, searching for answers but only getting silence in return. When Hoshi finally returned, he looked a little worse than before, somehow, and was scarily quiet. 

“What did they do to you, Ryoma?” 

“Don't… d-don't worry about it.” Hoshi muttered, not wanting to worry you or Gonta any further. What was a little more pain, at this point? They were smart enough to keep him alive and hurting, for now at least. Pain was the least of Hoshi’s worries at this point. He knew the leader of this group well enough to know he would get bored of this before long, having them caged would only bring him so much joy. 

And yet, they remained locked up, every so often one of you would be taken away and return with a few more cuts or bruises, usually Hoshi. You didn't speak of it anymore, just tried to comfort one another and keep your sanity. And then it all stopped. For two days, the heavy steel door remained closed. 

No food delivery, no water, no torture. 

Nothing. 

The three of you slept when you could, talked when the silence grew too loud, fought to stay calm. Too much longer and you wouldn't make it out, the mental image growing stronger by the hour. Dying of thirst while locked in dog kennels, beaten to hell and back… it was almost funny. Just as you felt your mind starting to slip, contemplating the idea of drinking your own blood, the door finally opened. You immediately closed your eyes, the light making your already present headache worse. 

“Shit, you three look terrible!” A familiar voice laughed, pulling a grimace from your face. 

“I guess being turned into pets would do that, huh? Well, good news! You get to take a walk today!” You didn't have the strength to fight as you were pulled from your cage, managing to walk unsteadily as you were led out of the room. Gonta and Hoshi weren't far behind, both struggling to stay on their feet as they were pushed along. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Oh, you’ll see, darlin’.” You rolled your eyes, nearly collapsing when you were shoved through a doorway. The room was fairly empty, save for a full bathtub and some unsettling stains along the concrete walls. The boys were pushed to the ground, Hoshi sucking in a sharp breath when his broken arm was moved. 

“Ryoma, are you-” 

“Now, dogs don't talk, do they?” The leader interrupted, forcing you to bite your tongue before you said something you regret. The men who had helped drag you here left, shutting the door behind them with a heavy thunk. 

“See, all this time, I've been trying to decide what to do with you three. Keeping caged puppies is no fun, especially when they don't fight back. So, I started thinking. What's the best way for me to hurt all three of you.” You saw Hoshi dig his nails into his palm, almost too exhausted to do much else. 

“Not interested in being chatty? That's alright, I got plenty of shit to say all on my own. Honestly, Hoshi, it's no goddamn fun hurting you anymore. I've kicked your ass a few too many times to really enjoy it now, so I ruled that out. If I beat up these two again, they just might not make it! So, what the hell else can I do?” 

The silence was nearly tangible in the air as you stared at the floor, having no interest in looking at the man behind your captivity. 

“I gotta start getting creative! Maybe even bring in a little outside help, you know? Could hunt down one of those little friends of yours, it wouldn't take more than a day or two. Let's see… We already got the bratty little detective, what about the pretty maid? The ditzy space cadet? I could pick off your friends one by one, bring them here, force you to watch them suffer until they finally break.” 

Hoshi made a move to speak, against his better judgment, but you grabbed his hand, a warning. Talking back now would only end in pain. 

“I thought about taking pieces of you two, cut the girly’s hair, take a few fingers, maybe more. But that's not quite as easy as it sounds, wouldn't want you guys fuckin’ dying on me!” You gasped as your chin was grabbed, forcing you to meet the man's eyes. 

“You are easily the most fun to play with, I have so many ideas about what to do with you. It doesn't have to be so painful, you know? Could be fun if you let it be.” Bile rose in your throat at the implications of what he was saying, tears stinging in your eyes. Before he could do anything else, though, Hoshi spoke up. 

“Don't you dare fucking… t-touch her.” The man looked away, a smirk spreading across his features. 

“Take your hands off her right fucking now.” Laughing quietly, the man pulled back, allowing you to finally breathe a bit. 

“And what the hell are you going to do, bastard? You think you can save her, save either of their sorry asses? Face it, you are my pets, and I'll do whatever I damn well please!” Hoshi stood up, even when you tried to stop him. 

“Do anything you want to me, but don't fucking touch them.” 

“You’d rather do it yourself? I don't mind a show, keeps me from having to get my hands dirty.” You cried out when you were grabbed by the hair and pulled over to the bathtub, Gonta receiving the same treatment as he was pushed right beside you. For the first time in what felt like years, you could see your reflection, features distorted by the water's movement. 

You could have guessed you looked rough, but the reality of seeing it brought more tears to your eyes. Your face was thin, dark circles under your eyes with dirt and blood smudging your skin. You didn't have time to mourn your appearance, though, not when Hoshi was shoved towards you and Gonta. 

“You wanted so badly to save them, you can be the one to kill them. Go on, shove them under for me, why don't you? You wouldn't want me to get fucking bored, I won't wait for long.” The gun reappeared and a shiver ran through your body, not daring to look back at Hoshi, who gingerly placed his hand on the back of your head. You could feel his hand shaking, tense, trying to think of any other way to get out of this.

“Five… four… three…” Hoshi bit his lip, the ticking of the gun being cocked forcing him into action. 

“Forgive me…” He muttered under his breath and pushed your and Gonta’s heads under the water. 

“See, was that really so hard? Probably a lot nicer than what I would do with the two of them. Don't you dare fucking let them up, either.” Fat tears dripped down Hoshi’s cheeks as he pushed harder, using every ounce of his remaining strength to force you and Gonta under the water. Distantly, he could hear wet screams, the water raging as the two of you squirmed, but being starved in the cages enabled Hoshi to keep you under. 

Hoshi’s eyes squeezed shut, unable to bear the sight of what he had been forced to do. Of all the horrible things he had done, of all the lives he had taken, the pain he had caused, this was the worst. His heart was beating out of his chest, barely able to breathe as he murdered the two people he loved. Hoshi only felt worse as your fighting subsided, barely moving under his grip as your bodies began to succumb to his actions. 

Finally, the man moved towards him and yanked Hoshi’s hands back, pulling you and Gonta from the water. Hoshi’s heart skipped a beat when you both fell backward, unmoving to his eyes. 

“Aw, damn, that was over pretty quick, huh? Shit, looks like you did a number on em!” Hoshi could barely see through his tears, eyes burning as he fell back and hit the ground hard. He couldn't make a sound, even when his mind was screaming, sobbing, begging to take it all back. 

“Congrats, you piece of shit, you’ve officially ruined everything you touch, fuckin’ murderer.” That was the last thing Hoshi heard before he blacked out, his body finally giving in to weakness, only exacerbated by the pain that gripped him. Unbeknownst to Hoshi, though, you and Gonta were still alive. 

You coughed up water, chest burning worse than anything you had ever felt, mind too foggy to realize what happened next. The three of you were carted back to your old room, dumped in there like trash with little more than a passing thought. It could have been a few hours or a few days before you noticed anything else, body and spirit broken after nearly being drowned. That voice was back and you cowered from it, too weak to do anything but curl into yourself, eyes glued shut. 

“Shit, you people are like fucking roaches, just don't fucking die do you? I'm fuckin’ over this, too much damn work.” You were out of it not long after, waking up some time later to only darkness, a blindfold tied tightly around your head. Finally, you were able to squirm, trying to call out by finding your mouth covered as well, by duct tape if the tight feeling was any indication. Still, you attempted to scream until you were slapped on the back of the head, tears springing to your blinded eyes. 

“I guess this one's awake too, huh? Time to fill em in.” An unfamiliar voice spoke much too close to your ear, making you shudder. 

“See, you three little shits are all work and no play, so the boss is done with you. No point in keeping around toys you can't have fun with. So we have some lovely orders to dump you off in gang territory.” You heard another voice, laughing. 

“Not just any damn gang! The Crazy fuckin’ Diamonds territory, and they don't take too kindly to visitors.” You tried to get free, only to realize your arms and legs were bound, body still exhausted even as adrenaline coursed through you. 

“You know, there's a lot of rumors about their leader going around, I wouldn't fuck with him if I were you.” 

“Yeah, like the one where he fuckin’ merked some shrimp with a dumbbell, just cause he called him weak. Strung his little body up as a warning to anyone else who wanted to cross him.” 

“And damn, the story of how he rose to power of the group? Dude killed his own brother, the old leader, in cold fuckin’ blood, just for the title. Mowed him down with a truck, how nasty is that?” You shuddered at the thought that you were only going to be delivered into the hands of someone equally horrible to endure more torture. 

“Welp, here we are. Have fun, fuckers, I'm sure we’ll see your sad little stories in the newspaper before long, Crazy Diamonds won't have much to play with.” You were frozen solid with fear as you were moved to the ground, hands stuck under your back as you heard footsteps walking away. 

Faintly, you could hear Hoshi and Gonta nearby, trying to get free with no more luck than you had had. It was a gentle comfort as you passed out again, adrenaline leaving your body vulnerable to your injuries. Hoshi, in the best condition out of the three of you, started squirming around, yelling through the tape over his mouth, trying to catch anyone's attention. 

It was all in vain, his voice too muffled to be heard from the street, not when they were so well hidden in an alleyway, almost entirely blocked from view by a dumpster. Eventually, footsteps could be heard coming towards the three of you. 

“Shit! Holy fuck, please tell me that those aren't… fuck.” Hoshi, unsure of whether this new voice was dangerous or not, stayed still, waiting. 

“Hey, Mondo? Yeah, I know you’re with Fujisaki right now, I'm sorry, but we have a situation. You know the alley by the bar? Yeah, there's three fuckin’ bodies here, dude. They ain't movin’, should I- In five minutes? Okay, thanks, sorry again.” 

The man hung up and Hoshi breathed as quietly as he could. He couldn't know what was or wasn't true about where they were dumped, it was better just to play dead for now until he got a better understanding of the situation. It wasn't as if he could do much in the way of fight anyway, not with a broken arm and a weakened body. But he would do what he had to in order to keep you and Gonta safe, no matter what happened to him. A few minutes later more footsteps could be heard, coming from the other direction. 

“Oh my god!” A soft voice squeaked out, footsteps halting. 

“Stay here, Chihiro, don't get too close.” A man muttered, what Hoshi assumed to be his footsteps moving closer. 

“Fuck, you weren't kidding, were you?” 

“No, sir, I didn't… know what to do.” The new man leaned down near Hoshi, gingerly rolling him onto his back. Hoshi couldn't hide the way his breath caught in his chest with pain, giving him away. 

“Wait, this one’s alive! Check those two! They might be alive too! Chi, call Taka, tell him to send anyone whose free, and get Mikan on standby, okay?” 

“Got it!” 

Anxiety flooded Hoshi as he was sat up, blindfold and gag removed. 

“Hey dude, you okay? We’re gonna get you and those two out of here in a few, what the fuck happened to you?” Hoshi couldn't talk, couldn't think, even as gentle hands shook him lightly. 

“Whoa, hey, don't pass out on me! Shit! Okay, we gotta get them the fuck out of here, someone did this to them and I don't want them coming back to try and finish the job.” Hoshi was unconscious, his body overwhelmed and, subconsciously, relieved. It seemed as if this man wanted to help them, if the way he called for help was any indication. 

When he woke up, he was in a new building, a steady beeping urging him awake. Hoshi blinked quickly, another way of panic running through him when he didn't recognize the room he was in. He started thrashing, ignoring the pain shooting through his arm and trying to get free of the cables and tubes connected to him. 

“Let me out, let me go!” He shouted, nearly jumping out of his skin when someone touched his shoulder. 

“P-please be careful! You’re going to hurt yourself! Please!” A girl said nervously, urging him back down.

“Mondo?! He’s awake!” She called to the doorway, the man who had helped him up before emerging. He was a character, to say the least, a large pompadour sticking out from his head and a biker jacket covering his body. 

“I got it, shit, stay back for a second. Hey, dude, it's okay! You’re safe here, I promise, don't go ripping out all of Mikan’s hard work. Your friends are over there, just lay down, it's all good.” 

The man, Mondo he assumed, pushed Hoshi back down onto what he now realized was a hospital bed, sighing with relief when Hoshi didn't fight back. He took stock of the room, finding it similar to a school nurse's office, but with much nicer equipment. The beeping Hoshi had heard before was the heart monitor, connected to his chest with wires that had gotten a bit tangled. 

“Where are…” He trailed off, chest heaving as his adrenaline faded. 

“Oh, the two you were with? They’re right here, though they haven't woken up yet. We honestly thought you guys were dead when we found you, it still doesn't look too good.” Mondo pulled back the curtains on either side of Hoshi to reveal two more beds, you and Gonta passed out and connected to several machines. 

“Um, are they your friends?” 

“More than that… they were, at least.” Hoshi muttered, not sure how to characterize your relationship now. Since you three were safe now, he could only assume that you and Gonta would want nothing to do with him and leave once they were able. He couldn't blame them for it, either, he would break up with himself too after what he had done. Hell, he had nearly killed them, Hoshi would be shocked if you or Gonta even looked his way once you woke up. 

“They aren't doing too well, they, um… they were in worse condition than you were when you got here. What happened? I-if that's okay to ask!” Hoshi shook his head, laying back down and digging his nails into his palm. 

“I almost fucking killed them…” He said quietly, not ready to say anything more. He’d have to tell the story at some point, but the longer he could put it off, the better. 

“Hey, you want us to call anyone, dude? Like, your family or something?” Hoshi shook his head, closing his eyes. 

“Just want to sleep…” 

“O-okay! We’ll leave you alone, you need to rest to heal up. Here, you can press this if you need me to come back for anything.” The girl, dressed in a classic nurse outfit, pressed a small remote into Hoshi’s good hand, closing the curtains and nearly stumbling as she left. Hoshi didn't bother to fight his exhaustion, wondering if you and Gonta would still be here when he woke up. 

It was your voice, hours later, that pulled him from unconsciousness, along with several other people shouting. 

“Don't come any fucking closer!” You yelled, brandishing a random syringe that had been within arms reach when you woke up. 

“P-please put that down! I promise, you’re safe here! No one is going to hurt you!” 

“What she said! Come on, put the damn needle away, you don't need a weapon!” Hoshi struggled to sit up, barely managing to reach the curtain beside his bed and yank it open. You were on your knees, still hooked up to machines even as you prepared to fight Mondo and the nurse. 

“(Y/N)...” Hoshi muttered, finally grabbing your attention. 

“Ryoma! You’re okay! Where's Gonta?!” Hoshi pointed to the other curtain, breathing hard. 

“It's safe, you don't need that, they aren't going to hurt us.” You finally lowered your hand, fingers uncurling from the syringe and letting it drop to the bed. 

“Oh…” You muttered, still on guard as the nurse quietly took the syringe away and helped you lay back down. 

“Sorry… I didn't…” 

“It's okay, I-I understand, you were scared. How do you feel? You’ve been unconscious for a long time…” You flinched a little when the woman started taking your vitals, unable to relax even with Hoshi so close. 

“It's a little hard to breathe… and I'm cold, too.” The woman nodded, tucking the blanket around you gently. 

“Are you in pain? I need to get more x-rays, but all three of you have broken bones. You’re also malnourished and dehydrated… Among other things.” The nurse was soft-spoken but firm as she covered you in a second blanket. 

“How are they? Is Gonta… is he okay?” She nodded, walking over and opening the curtain that had hidden Gonta from view. 

“He’s not in good shape but… all three of you should recover.” You nodded, trying to take a deep breath and wincing. 

“Ow… That's not… that's pretty painful.” The nurse returned to your side, looking over the chart you hadn't realized was at the foot of your bed. 

“Would you like pain killers? I'm pretty sure you have a couple of broken r-ribs and your lungs… they’re damaged from water.” Hoshi’s face fell at the mention of the water, memories surging back from when he had held you and Gonta under until you nearly died. 

“Please…” The nurse gave a small smile and turned to Hoshi, concerned. 

“Your lungs are better but your arm is badly broken and healing wrong, we’ll have to… rebreak it to fix it. Would you like some medication too?” Hoshi shook his head adamantly, even when that much movement sent a jolt of pain through him. 

“I'm fine.” He said quietly, falling back against the pillows as the nurse left. 

“Why won't you take the meds, Ryoma?” 

“I'm fine…” 

“You're not fine, Ryo! I can see it on your face that you’re in pain, please… You’ve been through enough, I don't want you to hurt anymore.” You whispered fiercely, biting your lip when Hoshi shook his head. It wasn't that he didn't need the pain relief, not that he didn't want it, but he didn't deserve it. He had almost killed you and Gonta, had hurt you beyond belief, not to mention the countless others he had murdered. The pain radiating through his body was nothing compared to the pain in his heart. 

Before you could try to argue, Gonta coughed roughly, starting to wake up. You attempted to get out of bed, jumping when a hand touched your shoulder. 

“You’re going to hurt yourself doing that, just stay here.” A man said gently, going to Gonta’s bedside, ready to hold him down if needed. 

“Where is… who are you?” Gonta asked, his voice rough and sending him into another fit of coughs. 

“Gonta, it's okay, we’re right here!” You shouted, forcing a smile even when more pain made you shudder. Hoshi nodded, not able to meet Gonta’s eyes as he sat up slowly. 

“Are (Y/N) and Ryoma okay? Gonta doesn't recognize this place…” 

“We got dumped off and then rescued, it's okay, we’re… safe.” The word felt foreign in Hoshi’s mouth, like it was a lie. 

“Hey there big guy, you scared us there. Thought you weren't gonna come back from that shit. Names Mondo, I guess you guys should know that, huh?” Slowly, Gonta relaxed as Mondo fiddled with the bed, making the head side raise so that Gonta could sit up easier. 

“Gonta and the others were saved?” Mondo nodded, flashing him a smile. 

“Yep! One of my guys found you and we got you here, Mikan is the best nurse I've ever met, she's the one who’s been taking care of you.” All three of you stared at Mondo wordlessly, not sure what to say. Finally, you spoke up. 

“We were told we were being left in gang territory, the…” 

“Crazy Diamonds?” Mondo supplied. You nodded, a shiver running through you at the name, remembering the stories the men who had brought you there had told. 

“Yep, that's us. I'm the leader, or whatever, it's not that big a deal.” You paled, Gonta and Hoshi no better. Slowly, you shrank away from Mondo, blood running ice cold. So you weren't safe after all… Mondo awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck when he noticed how scared you looked. 

“You’ve heard the rumors, huh? That I murdered the last leader for this spot, killed someone else with a dumbbell? Other horrible shit like that?” You didn't respond, discreetly looking around for another syringe, just in case. 

“None of it's true, you know. The last leader, he died, but he was my brother. I killed him, but not… like that.” You could tell the sadness in Mondo’s eyes was genuine, you had seen it in your own right before you had been pushed under the water by Hoshi. Before Mondo could continue, a small boy entered the room, short with dainty features, almost feminine. He shook his head, speaking up quietly. 

“It wasn't your fault, Mondo, don't make me tell Taka you're saying things like that again.” He smiled and turned to you, biting his lip when he saw the bandages covering your body. 

“My name is Chihiro Fujisaki, I was with Mondo when we… found you. Are you okay? I was so worried, you guys weren't moving and… I thought the worst.” You couldn't help but smile back, not wanting Chihiro to feel bad. 

“We’ll… be okay.” Chihiro perked up a bit at that, greeting Hoshi and Gonta before returning to Mondo’s side. 

“You guys want to talk about how you got this screwed up? I mean, from the shit Mikan said, you three have gone through hell.” You all exchanged looks, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. 

“I promise, you’re safe here. Mondo’s group may be known as a gang, but they are good people, they won't anything else happen to you. And I built an amazing security system for this building, no one can get in here without us knowing.” 

You took a deep breath and looked towards Gonta and Hoshi, nodding. So, as painful as it was to reminisce, you started telling the story of your kidnapping. Being taken, locked up for days on end with no clue if Hoshi was alive, the things Hoshi had been forced to do in exchange for your safety. You were about to mention Saihara when Hoshi stopped you, taking over. 

You understood, letting him explain the death of your friend as fat tears finally slipped down your cheeks. Gonta was in near sobs as Hoshi, stone-faced and somber, caught Mondo and Chihiro up with just how you had ended up there. You got a hold of yourself, wiping your face on the hospital gown. 

“And now… we’re here. And we don't, I don't… know what to do next.” You looked up, biting your lip with the effort to not cry again. Chihiro had his hands over his mouth, eyes shining with tears, Mondo’s face worryingly pale.

“And you said… it was Yakuza who did this?” You nodded quickly. 

“Shit…” Mondo muttered. 

“It was my fault, they wanted me. Those bastards hurt (Y/N) and Gonta to get to me. This is all because of me, if I had just died in jail then-” 

“Ryoma, no! Gonta doesn't think that! Gonta knows this is because of the men who hurt him and Ryoma and (Y/N). Ryoma never wanted them to get hurt, he tried to stop them! It isn't… R-Ryoma’s fault!” Gonta’s voice echoed throughout the room, louder than he had meant it to be. 

He didn't like to yell, but he couldn't stand hearing Hoshi blame himself when it was the yakuza’s fault, one man in particular. Chihiro ran over to Gonta, handing him a little pack of tissues from his pocket. 

“Thank you…” Gonta said softly, coughing. 

“But if I had just-” 

“No. You don't get to blame yourself, Ryoma! Not when you almost died, multiple times, to save us! No one blames you for this, it's those bastards faults, not yours.” You chewed your lip, flinching when Mondo sat at the foot of your bed, still not used to people being close without the intent of hurting you. 

“Yeah, I agree. If the fucker who did this is the guy I think it is, he’s sadistic, loves hurting people just for the fun of it. Toss revenge into the mix and I'm honestly surprised you three got out alive.” 

“Barely…” Hoshi muttered, laying down and pulling the blankets over himself. You were about to say something, but Mondo stopped you. 

“Let him sit for now, I get how he feels. Seeing you two get hurt, your friend too, and then blaming himself, it's not easy to deal with. Let him go.” You nodded, trying to take a deep breath. You hated that Hoshi blamed himself for this, but he wasn't ready to listen yet, it was better to let him rest. Soon, Mikan returned with medication for you and Gonta, which had you quickly falling asleep as it took effect. 

Even when everyone was passed out, Mondo sat in a chair by the door, just in case anyone tried to get in. Chihiro and Mikan came and went, checking up on your vitals and setting up Alter Ego to monitor them remotely, allowing them to keep an eye on you from across the little compound. 

You woke up groggily to see Mondo talking quietly with another man, bright red eyes and dark hair, dressed oddly formally for a gang’s nursing wing. 

“Do you think it's wise to tell them? It wouldn't be good for a war of sorts to break out.” Mondo shook his head, glancing over at you, not realizing you were waking up. 

“If it's Yakuza, those two can help, even just to keep them safe. I'm not letting them get hurt anymore, they’ve been through too much shit as it is.” The other man nodded, looking over as well and frowning at the sight of your injuries. 

“It's a miracle they’re alive, are they… stable?” 

“Yeah, Mikan says they’ll be alright, but it's gonna be awhile. Not to mention recovering from something like that, mentally, it won't be easy.” The conversation faded as you slipped back into sleep for a bit, grumbling when you felt something cold against your chest. 

“S-sorry! I didn't mean to wake you up, I was just checking on your lungs.” Mikan helped you sit up, moving over to Hoshi after a moment to listen to his breathing. 

“Odd, your lungs are pretty much fine, aside from your broken ribs.” 

“He didn't… we went through different methods of torture.” You said softly, not missing the guilt in Hoshi’s eyes as Mikan moved on to Gonta. 

“Your’s are the worst… if they don't improve soon, we might need to give you medication for it, or surgery.” Gonta shook his head quickly. 

“Gonta… really doesn't want that.” 

“W-well, Gonta, do your best to heal up, okay? It's late, you guys should try and go back to sleep. We’ll need to re-break your arm in the morning…” 

“Hoshi, that's (Y/N).” 

“Right! Get some rest, if you can. If you need anything, there's a button by each of your beds, a-and Mondo and some of the others have been guarding the door, just in case.” Mikan left quickly, turning down the lights so you could go back to sleep. You were exhausted, but didn't lay down just yet. 

“Ryoma, please, talk to us.” 

“Gonta hates seeing Ryoma so hurt, he wants to help.” Hoshi just shook his head, not looking at either of you. 

“I'm fine, really. I don't deserve your help, anyway. Just lay down and get some sleep, alright? Don't worry about me.” Hoshi was silent after that, leaving you with little choice than to curl up under the hospital blanket and drift off into a restless sleep. 

Once he was sure both you and Gonta were asleep, Hoshi tossed off his covers, methodically tearing out his IV and unhooking all of the other cords he was attached to. It hurt like hell, blood dripping down his hand from the poor job, but it would work. He just had to get out of there, he’d figure it out after that. Cradling his bad arm, Hoshi quietly got out of bed, making it no more than a few steps before the door opened. Mondo and Chihiro were there, Chihiro’s phone saying something to him in a very similar voice as the boys own. 

“Are you okay? Alter Ego said your heart rate stopped, I-” Finally, they both realized that Hoshi was fine, albeit dripping blood onto the tile. 

“I'm leaving.” 

“You’re bleeding, fuck, you aren't in any condition to be walking around dude!” Hoshi shook his head, covering the wound with his hand. 

“I'm fine, just let me through.” 

“B-but why would you leave? You’re safe, you don't have to worry about anything happening here.” Something dawned on Mondo, the things Hoshi had said earlier. 

“Chi, can you go back out for a bit, keep an eye on the door?” 

“Are you sure?” Mondo nodded and Chihiro left, closing the door softly behind him. 

“Would you move, dammit? I don't want them waking up until I'm gone.” 

“This is about you blaming yourself, right? For them getting hurt?” Hoshi sighed, unsteady on his feet. 

“At least take the chair, man, you’re going to pass out if you aren't careful, and Mikan can get scary when she's mad.” Hoshi scowled but sat in the metal chair, blood leaking past his hand. 

“What happened back there that makes you so sure this is your fault?” 

“The part where I was the one that bastard wanted hurt? The part where my friend died because of me? Or the part where I held the two people I love underwater until their fucking lungs gave out and nearly killed them?” Mondo was quiet for a moment. 

“That wasn't you though man! That was the Yakuza, they made you do that shit!” 

“Doesn't matter, I still did it. They still got hurt. They will never be the same after what they had to go through because of me.” 

“But they don't blame you. They just want you here, to get better and all that.” 

“They’re wrong. They don't see it, because they don't want to see it. If I had died in prison, they would have never gotten hurt. Shuichi wouldn't be fucking d-dead.” Hoshi dug his nails into his thigh, tears burning behind his eyes. He refused to let them fall, he didn't even deserve that mercy. 

“You know that rumor about me taking out the last Diamond leader?” 

“Yeah.” 

“He was my brother. My big brother, he led this gang better than I ever could have, and he was passing me the torch when he was ready to move on. I challenged him to race, tried to show off, nearly got hit by a big ass truck. My brother, he pushed me out of the way, took the brunt of it, didn't get back up. He died, and I was still here, and for a long time, I blamed myself. If I hadn't gotten so damn reckless, he wouldn't have gotten hit. I shut everyone out, until I found out what was happening. My guys, they needed a leader, and Daiya was gone. They needed me. And leading them was more important than wallowing in that pity shit.”

Mondo slapped Hoshi on the back, almost enough to hurt. 

“Those two, they need you. And you sure as hell need them too. If anyone was gonna blame you for what happened, it would be them, but they don't. So you shouldn't either. Let them in, ‘aight? It helps. I can't force you to stay, but Mikan is pretty convincing, and if that doesn't work, no one can really say no to Chihiro. So leave, if you want to, but it's not gonna benefit them at all.” Hoshi sat there, silent, trying to make a choice. He stood up shakily, blood loss starting to set in. 

“I guess I'm staying, then.” 

“Good shit, man, here, lemme help.” Mondo got Hoshi to the bed, pushing the button for Mikan so she could fix Hoshi’s IV. As they waited, Mondo spoke up. 

“It gets easier, but you gotta let people in, alright?” 

“Yeah… Thanks.” Mikan arrived, immediately fussing over Hoshi and getting him settled back into bed. You stirred from the noise as Hoshi was reconnected to the heart monitor, blinking tiredly. 

“Mm, what's going on?” 

“It's okay, (Y/N), I'm alright. Just fixing something, go back to sleep.” You smiled and nodded, still half asleep as you laid back down. You woke up again a few hours later when it was finally morning, sitting up and wincing in pain. 

“Hey, morning,” Hoshi said from his bed, eating breakfast from a tray. 

“I didn't want to wake you up, even for food, you needed the rest.” You smiled, he seemed… better, somehow. 

“I'll grab you something, be right back.” Mondo smiled, Chihiro by his side as he left. 

“Did they fix your arm?” Hoshi nodded, holding up a white cast. 

“Yeah, hurt pretty bad, but Mikan gave me some pain meds, they help. How are you doing?” You shrugged, rolling your shoulders. 

“Better, sorta. Still hurts but… I got to sleep, Ryo. I got to sleep, and not wonder who would be hurt in the morning, or if I’d get woken up with cold water, or be let out of a cage… It's weird.” 

Hoshi nodded sadly, turning his head when Gonta yawned, rubbing his eyes. 

“Gonta heard talking… are Ryoma and (Y/N) okay?” 

“Yeah, we’re fine, don't worry. They’re bringing food here in a few, if you're up for it.” 

“You better eat, Gonta, you need your strength.” You managed a smile, barely able to keep from drooling when Mondo came back with… pancakes? Bacon? In his hands were two trays with a large spread on them, food you had only dreamed of eating since your capture. 

“I'm under orders to make sure you eat this shit slowly, Mikan says your malnourished, you’ll get sick if you inhale it.” You nodded, taking your tray as Gonta was handed his. Chihiro came in, holding a couple of bottles of both water and juice. 

“I wasn't sure what you’d like, so I got a few different drinks.” 

“Thanks, guys.” You were almost hesitant to eat, waiting for something to happen, some sort of punishment or shouting. But it never came, and you took a careful bite of a pancake. It tasted like heaven on earth, whether that was because of whoever made it or the fact that you had been nearly starved, you didn't know. Still, you forced yourself to go slowly, not wanting to make yourself sick. 

“Gonta has never tasted anything so good…” 

“We’ve got a guy who cooks for us sometimes when he isn't busy, he makes the best damn food you’ve ever had, trust me. He’s got a restaurant, you should go some time.” The words struck a chord with you, tears prickling faintly at the corners of your eyes. You could go to restaurants now, go anywhere, really. 

You were free. 

And sure, you and Gonta and Hoshi were all a bit messed up, mentally and physically, and it wasn't going to get better overnight. But without the constant threat of death, of torture? You could heal. 

“So, listen. You guys were taken by Yakuza, yeah?” You nodded, confused about where Mondo was going with this. 

“We know a Yakuza leader, different from the asshole who you guys were with, he's one of the good guys. He could probably do something to help keep you guys safe after you get out of here, if you wanted.” The room was quiet for a moment, unsure of how to respond. You couldn't fathom the thought of getting involved with more Yakuza, but if Mondo said he was good… you wanted to believe him. 

“You trust the guy?” Hoshi asked, equally put off by the idea. 

“Entirely, he wouldn't hurt a fly. He can seem a little harsh and shit, but I trust him.” The three of you shared a look, silently agreeing. 

“Can we meet with him, then? Here?” Mondo nodded, waving his phone. 

“Yeah, he can probably come down today honestly, sound good?” Mondo left the room to make the call, the three of you facing each other. 

“I don't like this,” Hoshi said quietly. 

“Gonta trusts Mondo, though, he doesn't think Mondo would bring in someone who would hurt (Y/N) or Ryoma.” Hoshi shook his head, fingers of his good hand clenched in the blanket. 

“Stay on guard, either way.” You were silent, biting your lip before speaking up. 

“Ryoma I think… we have to call the others, too. We’ve been missing for what, months? They’ve probably been looking for us, and… him. We have to tell them.” Before Hoshi could respond, Mondo returned, slipping his phone in his pocket. 

“He’s gonna come by later to talk, I gave him the short version of your story, so you don't have to repeat it.” 

“Thanks.” You smiled, picking at the remaining food in your lap, not hungry anymore. 

“Would, um, would you like to borrow my phone?” Chihiro asked softly, holding it out to you. 

“I'll take it, I'll do it,” Hoshi muttered, taking the phone like it would shatter between his fingers. 

“Gonta can do it, Ryoma doesn't have to.” Hoshi shook his head, already starting to dial. 

“He died because of me, I should be the one to do it.” A hushed, tense silence fell over the quiet room, save for the beeping of various monitors.

“Kirumi? Kirumi, it's Ryoma Hoshi.” You could see how rigid Hoshi went when Kirumi said something back that you couldn't hear. 

“We’re… it's a long story, alright? You need to bring everyone here tomorrow, we need to talk. Can I trust you to bring them all? Yeah, Ouma as well, everyone, please. Thank you. I'll text you the address, alright? Okay. I'll tell you when you get here, it's… hard to talk about. Bye.” 

Hoshi handed the phone back to Chihiro and stared at his lap as he and Mondo left the room, leaving the three of you alone with one another. “How… How do I tell them that Saihara is dead? Dead because of me.” 

You shook your head, shifting around the wires and IV so that you could shakily get out of bed and grab Hoshi’s hand. 

“If he's dead because of you, then he's dead because of me and Gonta too. He went looking for all of us, so if we’re gonna blame anyone, it should be all three of us. It's not our fault…” You trailed off, fighting back tears. Saihara had been your friend, and you had watched the life drain out of him through a hole in his skull. 

“Gonta thinks it wasn't anyone's fault, except for the man who killed Saihara. He hurt him, Ryoma didn't.” You nodded, going back to your own bed before your weakened legs gave out. 

“We’ll tell them together, all three of us. No one blames you, so try not to blame yourself, alright?” Hoshi managed a nod and finally looked up as you fumbled with your blanket. As you did, the sleeve of your hospital gown rode up, revealing a nasty, barely healed scar from the same day that Saihara had died. 

Hoshi could almost hear the muffled scream that had followed a cut like that, staring until it disappeared again under the thin fabric. Something like would never go away, not the memories, not the scars. He had almost grown accustomed to death, having seen it so many times, but you and Gonta hadn't until then. Hoshi couldn't fix that, couldn't take that back, just like he couldn't bring Saihara back. He swallowed thickly, reminding himself of what Mondo had said, that putting up walls and hiding behind them wouldn't help any of you heal. 

“Hey, guys?” 

“Hm? What's wrong?” You replied, concerned. 

“If… no, when this is over, do you want to get a dog? Or, a cat, or a pet, or… I don't know, something like that.” The faintest hint of a smile graced Hoshi’s tired features. You couldn't help smiling a bit yourself. 

“Yeah, a dog would be nice.” 

“Gonta likes dogs, even if they aren't as nice as bugs. He knows that Ryoma and (Y/N) don't like bugs as much as he does, so Gonta is happy with a dog!” Hoshi turned to Gonta, nodding. 

“You can have all the bugs you want, I'll get over it, if it makes you happy.” 

Your smile widened, thinking about how things could, eventually, get better. “Me too, I don't mind them so much now, so you should have as many as you can.” 

Gonta’s smile was enough to make the pain in your body fade, even if for a moment. It was a reminder of before, when the three of you had been happy. Your conversation went on for a while, the most relaxed and at peace you had felt in months now. After a while, you were interrupted by cursing and scuffling behind the closed door, immediately putting all three of you on alert. 

“Hey, hands off asshole! I told you, I'm with Oowada! Let us through before I fucking- Peko, no! Put that shit away!” You prepared to get up and run if needed, a glance at Hoshi and Gonta showed them readying for the same fight. 

“Guys, it's fine, he's with me! Seriously, they're good, just let em through, okay?” The door opened and Mondo, along with a shorter man and a woman with silver hair, sheathing what looked like a katana, walked in. 

“So, this is the guy I mentioned!” 

“Fucking hell, you could warn your guys before sending us down a hallway alone, you know?” Mondo rubbed the back of his neck, laughing. 

“I can't blame em, I told them not to let a soul through unless I said. So, this is Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, and Peko Pekoyama.” You stared, wide-eyed, at the odd duo as the man, Kuzuryuu, took off his hat. 

“I'm the head of the Kuzuryuu clan and all that, Peko is a friend of mine.” 

“And bodyguard.” 

Kuzuryuu rolled his eyes. “I told you, you don't have to do that shit. Not the point, though. Mondo told me you got caught up in some shit with a branch of Yakuza and needed some help, yeah?” 

You nodded, not sure what to say. Hoshi was the first to speak, albeit tersely. “That's the understatement of the year, yeah. How much did Mondo tell you?” 

“I know that your Ryoma Hoshi, and I have a pretty good guess as to who did this, and why. I also know that that bastard has been getting more and more ruthless, and you probably shouldn't have gotten out of there in one piece.” You nodded sadly, coughing before speaking up. 

“We almost didn't. And we… We were the lucky ones. Our friend, he didn't… he fucking shot him.” You went on, describing the beatings, the cages, the choices all three of you had been forced to make in order to stay alive. Peko and Kuzuryuu remained emotionless, aside from Peko’s tightened grip on the strap of her sword bag. 

“After almost killing us, he tossed us in an alley. We were lucky that the Crazy Diamonds found us, and not someone else. At that point… I really thought we were going to die.” Kuzuryuu nodded, running a hand through his short blond hair. 

“Fuck… I’d heard rumors about that fucker and the shit he's done, but this… this is a whole other level of fucked up.” He shared a look with Peko, who nodded quickly. 

“From now on, you three are under the protection of both the Kuzuryuu clan and the Crazy Diamonds. Between our two groups, no one will touch a fucking hair on your head. This offer is extended for as long as you want it, and if there are others who need it, just tell us.” Your mouth hung open as Kuzuryuu stood, Peko following suit. He held out a hand to Hoshi, who clearly didn't know what to say. 

“I… Thank you.” Was all he said, shaking Kuzuryuu’s hand as the blonde smiled. 

“Whatever you need, just let me or Mondo know. Bodyguards, a place to stay where you’ll be safe, you’ll have it. You’re honorary members of the clan now, so I'll be seeing you around.” Peko nodded at you and you waved, unsure of what to make of her quite yet. 

“Show them out, thanks. Fuyuhiko, thanks for coming.” 

“Happy to help, especially after the shit they’ve been through.” Just as they were about to leave, you called after them. 

“Wait! Don't… don't you guys have better things to do? I mean, you shouldn't have to worry about me, really.” 

“(Y/N), you deserve this after-” Kuzuryuu shook his head before Mondo could finish. 

“Trust me, you guys are worth it. Plus, I've wanted to get this fucker off the playing field since I heard about him, he gives us Yakuza a shitty reputation. So don't worry about a thing but feeling better and shit like that, got it?” You nodded and he waved before turning around, leaving with Peko by his side. 

“Like he said, you guys need anything, just ask. Even after you leave here, we’ve got your back!” You smiled, a slight warmth in your chest. You still felt like a bit of a burden for Mondo and the others who wanted to help, but it was nice knowing you were under the protection of not one, but two groups. Soon, Mondo left, allowing the three of you to return to chatting. It was the most normal you had felt in a very long time, and before long dinner was being brought to your beds, along with Mikan checking in and seeing how you were doing. 

The lights were turned down and you yawned, wishing you weren't hooked up to so many wires so that you could get up and lay down by Gonta or Hoshi. Mikan insisted that you stay connected to the monitors for now, since it had only been a few days since you had started healing. 

“I'm sure you're eager to l-leave, but I'd like to see you guys improve a bit first, especially Gonta. His lungs are better but… I'd rather be on the, um, safe side.” You went along with it, not knowing enough to argue. Your friends would be coming tomorrow, regardless, so it was better to stay put, at least until after that. You soon found yourself laying down, barely able to keep your eyes open as you talked with Gonta and Hoshi. 

“If you're that tired, go ahead and sleep, it's okay.” You half smiled, exhausted. 

“Mm, okay, you guys sleep too, okay? We all need it, especially for tomorrow.” It was easy to drift off, as relaxed as you felt. Maybe it was a bad idea, trusting Mondo and Kuzuryuu and the others to keep you safe, but your mind couldn't take much more fear and panic anymore. Hoshi soon laid down as well, almost ready to go to sleep when Gonta’s voice made him sit up. 

“Ryoma?” 

“Hmm? What's up, Gonta?” 

“Gonta… feels really bad.” Hoshi looked over, noticing the faint glimmer of tears forming in Gonta’s eyes. 

“What's wrong? Should we get Mikan or something?” Gonta shook his head, chewing his lip. 

“Gonta said horrible things to Ryoma, right after Shuichi…” Hoshi nodded, remembering the call he had gotten from Gonta right after, where he had called him a murderer. 

“Gonta didn't mean any of it! They made Gonta say it, and he didn't want to, but he had a gun pointed at him and he… he h-had to call Ryoma such horrible things. Gonta is an awful gentleman, he shouldn't have said-” 

“Whoa, shit, hey!” Against his better judgment, Hoshi got out of bed, dragging the pole his IV was connected to as he grabbed a box of tissues and handed them to Gonta. 

“They fucking threatened you?” Gonta nodded, taking a tissue and wiping his eyes before the tears could quite spill over. 

“Gonta should have fought him, told him he wouldn't say such mean things, especially when they weren't true.” Hoshi shook his head, hand shaking as he reached out to stroke Gonta’s messy hair. 

“They would have hurt you, or killed you, you did the right thing, even if you didn't want to. You’ve been a damn good gentleman, Gonta, considering what you were faced with. A lot better than I could have been in your place.” 

“Gonta still feels bad, he called Ryoma a murderer… and disgusting. Gonta would never think that way about Ryoma! Ryoma is a good gentleman too, doing all of those things to keep Gonta and (Y/N) safe, even if he had to do horrible things as well.” Hoshi smiled softly, hand cupping Gonta’s cheek as he got ahold of himself. He had forgotten what it was like to touch someone without violence, just hoping to comfort the much larger man. 

“Something like that, yeah. I know you didn't mean it, that you wouldn't have said anything like that if you weren't being threatened, so don't worry about it, alright?” Gonta nodded, leaning into Hoshi’s touch slightly until he pulled away. 

“Get some sleep, big guy, you need it.” 

“Ryoma should sleep too.” 

“I will, if you will.” Gonta smiled softly as Hoshi got back into bed, wincing a bit. He still wasn't in the best condition, but every day it was getting a little easier. Before long, all three of you were asleep, but even that came with difficulties. 

For hours, you tossed and turned, caught in the all too realistic plane between awake and dreaming. You didn't wake up, no matter how many horrible images plagued you, tangling yourself in your blanket and soaking your hospital gown through with cold sweat. Hoshi and Gonta were no better, a choked sob from Gonta finally waking you up from your nightmares, your memories. 

“Gonta? You okay?” All that followed was hitched breathing for a moment. 

“Gonta is fine… bad dream.” You nodded, grateful for the pale light of the sunrise starting to come through the windows. It was still early, but not early enough to go back to sleep, even if you wanted to. 

“Me too, I kept seeing that fucking man… Gonta, I can still smell him in my dreams…” You trailed off, stomach turning a bit at the memory. It wasn't long before Hoshi woke up as well, jolting a bit before sitting up and rubbing his eyes. 

“What’re you guys doing up?” He asked quietly. 

“Nightmares, mostly. How did you sleep?” Hoshi shook his head, stretching and wincing when he moved his arm the wrong way. 

“Not much better, kept seeing things I didn't want to see.” You understood the feeling well, thankfully distracted as Mondo knocked on the door and poked his head inside. 

“Hey, Chihiro said you guys were up, you want food or anything?” You knew you needed to eat, but after the nightmares and considering what was soon to come when your friends arrived, you weren't all that interested in food. 

“Something small, I guess.” Gonta and Hoshi nodded in agreement and Mondo disappeared, soon returning alongside Ishimaru and Chihiro, each with a tray. You could barely nibble at a piece of toast, mind wandering as conversation carried around you. 

How did you tell a room full of people that someone they all cared about had been brutally kidnapped, beaten, and murdered by a Yakuza leader? 

How do you tell them that you didn't stop it, didn't save him? 

How could you apologize for something like that, when you were sitting right there, still alive? 

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” You snapped back to the present, forcing a smile. 

“Yeah, just not super hungry, I guess.” You looked over at Hoshi, who hadn't eaten much either. Desperate to change the subject off of yourself, you turned to Chihiro. 

“How did you know we had woken up, by the way?” Chihiro smiled and almost bounced to your bedside, showing you his phone. 

“I designed a program, with Tsumiki’s help. It monitors your vital signs constantly, and when there's a change, like a quicker heartbeat from waking up, it tells me. I programmed it to be compatible with my other program, Alter Ego, and he can deduce the cause of the change to a certain extent!” 

Chihiro went on for a moment about the programming, terms that flew over your head entirely until he noticed he was rambling. 

“Oh, u-um, sorry! I really enjoy programming, you probably didn't understand any of that…” 

“It's okay, I think it's nice that you enjoy something that you’re so good at.” You smiled, still lost in all of the terminology as Chihiro poked at his phone. 

“T-thank you!” His cheeks flushed a soft pink and you couldn't hide your smile. 

“Amazing, isn't he? Best damn programmer out there!” 

“Agreed, Chihiro, no one could make a program that compares to yours, especially in how little time it took you.” You let the three of them chat, managing to eat a bit more. You gave up eventually, promising Mikan that you would eat more later before she could worry too much. Once the trays were gone and the others had left to do one thing or another, you turned to Hoshi and Gonta. 

“They’ll be here soon, huh?” Hoshi nodded, running a hand through his hair, much longer than he usually kept it. 

“Yeah, Kirumi said around noon, but who knows.” You went quiet, fiddling with a stray thread on your blanket. 

“Gonta is… scared, to tell them. He doesn't want them to have to know, even though he knows they have to.” 

“Yeah, me too. But… we’ll just get it over with, and go from there, you know?” Gonta nodded but Hoshi said nothing, drumming his fingers absently on his cast. 

“You guys should just let me do all the talking, alright? I got us into this, I should be the one to break the news.” You shook your head quickly, not having it. 

“We’re all a part of this, you aren't going to get stuck with all of the burden of telling the story. We lean on each other, so you can start, if you want, but I'm not going to let you be the only one to tell them.” 

“Gonta too, he isn't going to let Ryoma be the only one to tell them about Shuichi, what happened isn't Ryoma’s fault.” Hoshi looked like he was about to argue but you shushed him gently. 

“It's no one's fault, you didn't pull the trigger, okay? So just… Share the load, alright?” A sad smile made its way onto Hoshi’s face as he nodded, sighing quietly. 

“You two make it hard to argue shit, you know that?” You laughed, fighting back a cough that followed. 

“That's the point, babe.” As time passed, you got more and more nervous about the conversation, how the others would take the news, what they would do. Saihara was everyone's friend, nobody disliked him, losing him was going to hurt everyone in the room greatly. The man by the door, whose name you hadn't caught, muttered something over a radio before turning to face you. 

“The friends you invited are here, alright if I let them in?” 

“Last chance to hide under the beds.” You joked dryly, hands shaking as you smoothed the blanket in front of you. You didn't know what else to do as your friends streamed in, one after another, each talking to each other or the three of you. 

The room buzzed with more energy than you knew how to deal with and it didn't take long for you to feel overwhelmed as Angie and Kaede swarmed your bed, asking questions you weren't prepared to answer. Finally, Kaito caught on, shouting above the din and getting everyone's attention. 

“Guys! Don't scare them, jeez! This is probably a lot for them to deal with all at once, let em talk!” Thankfully, the room quieted down, many people sitting on the edges of beds and others standing. Unsurprisingly, Ouma was the first to break the seal of silence. 

“So where exactly were you guys, anyway? Cause you look like total hell, especially you! And where is Saihara-chan?” He pointed at Hoshi, who swallowed thickly. The moments that passed may have been only seconds, but they were weighed down by the knowledge that you didn't know how to share. 

“Fuck, I guess… we should start at the beginning, huh?” Taking turns, you, Hoshi, and Gonta told your story, hopefully for the last time. You kept it brief, not wanting to saddle your friends with the images of your torture. Anytime one of you started getting overwhelmed, another took over, glossing over moments best left locked away until you got caught up. 

“Wait, so this whole time… you’ve been pretty much almost fucking dying?!” Kaito looked pale, as if he couldn't believe what had happened. 

“Um… yeah, more or less.” You said sheepishly, unable to meet anyone's eyes. The room burst into sound once again, questions streaming in one after another until Kirumi spoke up. 

“Please refrain from all speaking at once, it can't… be easy to talk about something like this.” You nodded, thankful. Ouma’s voice stood out from the others as he hopped off Gonta’s bed, hands on his hips. 

“That's a craaaazy story and all, but you dodged my question. You three are here, but Saihara isn't. So where is he? You didn't even mention him! Unless this is all a lie?” He quirked an eyebrow and you barely refrained from rolling your eyes. 

“Was he involved with this somehow?” Maki asked, picking up on your anxiety. 

“Atua hasn't said anything about him either… hmm. Maybe he's just been on a vacation to a faraway country!” You shook your head, sparing Hoshi a glance before continuing. 

“Saihara… he came to look for us, not long after we disappeared.” Kaito nodded, pacing the room a bit. 

“He did say something about a case, he ditched training and stuff a few times for it but never really said much more.” 

“Gonta and Ryoma and (Y/N) were the case… Saihara started searching and asking around about them, but Gonta thinks he talked to the wrong person.” 

You continued as Kiibo stroked Gonta’s hair comfortingly. 

“The men we were involved with, they don't take well to people looking for them… The kidnapped Saihara and brought him to the same building we were in, threatened him, but didn't do much at first.” You trailed off, trying to push away the mental image of Saihara tied to that chair, body slumped forward while he was unconscious. You wished he had stayed that way, hearing him plead for his life at the end had only made it hurt more. Hoshi picked up the story, hand holding the covers with white knuckles. 

“They ordered me to kill him. They put a gun in my hand and forced me to kill my friend.” You opened your mouth to argue, Hoshi hadn't been the one to pull the trigger, he hadn't had a choice in the matter anymore. But it was fruitless, Hoshi continuing before you got the chance

“He's gone.” Was all Hoshi said, the room exploding into chaos and questions. 

“What do you mean he's gone?!” Kaito yelled above the sound, met with several noises of agreement from the others. No one responded, the room growing heavy with the things they knew, but didn't want to say. 

“Saihara is dead. He’s dead, because of me.” Hoshi’s voice was barely audible, but enough people heard it to send the room spinning into shouting and crying. Kaede clasped her hands over her mouth as she realized what had happened, sobbing. Ouma looked ready to hit someone, small hands clenched into fists as he glared daggers into Hoshi, eerily quiet. 

The room was buzzing with reactions, some shock, some disbelief, some sad and crying. You didn't know what to do, blindly grabbing Kaede's hand as if it would ease her pain. You didn't bother to wipe away your own tears as they fell, breathing hard to keep from absolutely collapsing into sobs. 

“What the fuck, Hoshi?!” Kaito shouted, moving closer than Hoshi would have liked. 

“Why did you do it? Why did you fucking kill my best friend goddammit?!” His voice was loud enough to hurt your ears, Kaede squeezing your hand a little tighter. 

“Kaito, don't, that's a little-” 

“I don't care! He fucking murdered Shuichi! He murdered him and he's here, just fucking fine now!” The argument only escalated as Kaede and a few others tried to calm Kaito down, Hoshi stone-faced and staring at his hand. Finally, Mondo entered the room, groaning at the chaos before raising his voice. 

“Hey! Shut up! You guys are screaming loud enough that the entire building can hear you and that shit isn't what they need right now! So either be quiet, or leave!” You were grateful for the interruption as it finally got Kaito to quiet down, at least for a moment. 

“And you, you and Gonta. Why the fuck didn't you stop him, huh? You were there too, you could have done something!” 

“Gonta’s supposed to be all big and strong right, you couldn't get a gun out of Hoshi’s tiny fucking hands?!” Ouma chimed in from across the room, his voice much more flat than usual.

“Exactly! You didn't stop him, so your just as much at fault here as he is, you fucking killed-” 

Your head snapped to look at Hoshi as he finally spoke up. 

“Shut the fuck up!” He screamed, louder than you had ever heard him yell. It was almost scary, seeing such rage spread across Hoshi’s features. 

“They didn't have a choice to stop me! They would have been killed if they even fucking moved!” 

He took a breath but held up a hand when Kaito moved to speak again. 

“They gave me a choice. They told me to either kill Saihara or let them get beaten until they could hardly breathe. They couldn't have done a thing to stop it, they got it bad enough as it was. He cut them, and made me fucking watch while they got hurt, because I couldn't go through with it.” 

“What? What do you mean?” Kaede asked, still tightly gripping your hand. 

“I dropped the damn gun, I couldn't pull the trigger on Saihara. And they still killed him. But Gonta and (Y/N) begged me to just let them get hurt instead, but I couldn't let them go through that. Blame me all you want, hate me forever, that's fine. But you don't get to fucking blame then when they were tied up and hurt and begging me not to choose him.” 

Kaito glanced between you and Gonta, noticing how you were in much worse condition, between the scars and bandages, while Hoshi mainly had only his cast as evidence of his pain. 

“I don't give a damn what you think about me, cause it's probably true. But don't you dare fucking blame them for his death.” The room went quiet enough to hear a pin drop as Kaito finally relaxed a bit, no longer looking like he was ready to hurt someone. 

“Fucking hell… so he's really dead, huh?” Kaito muttered, sitting on the edge of Hoshi’s bed. 

“Yeah,” Hoshi responded, finally looking up from his lap. 

“I'm sorry about what I said man, you didn't… you didn't deserve that, especially when I didn't mean it.” Hoshi just shrugged, looking around the room. 

“Doesn't mean it isn't true, but thanks. The things that happened in there…” Kaito just nodded in understanding as the atmosphere relaxed a bit. Still sad, mourning, but no longer tense with so much anger. 

“Are you guys going to be… alright? No offense, but you look like shit.” You laughed softly, running a hand through your hair. 

“They think we’ll be okay to leave in a couple of days, if we want to.” 

“Gonta isn't sure he wants to go back home anymore… he remembers the house being all messed up from being taken.” 

“Yeah, it's… not great. I was staying there between… jobs. It's pretty bad, honestly, I never had the energy to fix shit or clean or anything.” Kirumi looked between the three of you, and then to the others. 

“Don't worry about that, we’ll handle anything that needs to be taken care of before you return home.” You met her eyes, as sad as anyone else's over the loss of Saihara, even if she hadn't shown it. 

“Are you sure? You don't have to do anything for us, really.” She shook her head, a small smile appearing on her face. 

“It's my pleasure, you deserve to have a nice, clean home when you are released from here, and I prefer to keep myself busy in times like this.” 

“Me too, I'll help. You guys have been through enough, we want to make it a little easier for you to adjust and get better!” Kaede smiled sadly, and you didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise. It would be nice, not having to fix the wreckage of your kidnapping on your own. Others began to chime in, offering to help with cleaning up, getting groceries, anything you could have needed. 

Soon the entire room, even Ouma, was in agreement that they were going to help you back on your feet, no matter what it took. 

“Gonta… is very thankful that he has such generous friends.” Gonta sniffled and Himiko patted his head. 

“It’ll be easy to fix things up with my magic, as long as I'm able to recharge my mana beforehand…” After that, people streamed in and out of the room, some leaving for the day with things to do, others hanging out a while longer until the sky began to darken. It was nice, albeit a bit overwhelming to be around other people again, people you knew and trust, who wanted to help you. Soon, it was only Kirumi and Kaito left, both getting ready to leave. 

“Is it alright if I return tomorrow? I'd like to figure out the best way to go about restoring your home, among other things.” Hoshi nodded, smiling a bit. 

“Sure, if you want. Thanks again for helping out, it really means a lot. Especially after what we told you.” 

“At moments like this, it's best for people to be together, to overcome their hardships. So, frankly, you’re doing us a favor by allowing us to help. Also, Gonta, your glasses are missing, would you like me to bring you another pair?” Gonta nodded eagerly. 

“Gonta would really like that, he hasn't been able to see in… a long time.” You smiled, having almost forgotten that he usually wore glasses. It had been so long since you had had the mental capacity to worry about things like your boyfriend's eyesight, really, it was a miracle he had managed to get by without them this long. Kirumi left after another few minutes, promising to return the next day to make a list of tasks to get done with the house, even when you insisted it wasn't that big of a deal. Kaito stood up to leave, lingering a bit. 

“Sorry, again, man. I said some pretty horrible shit to you earlier, I really shouldn't have let my temper go off like that, not cool of me.” 

“You just lost someone you cared about, I get it. Someone told me something like that, I probably would have gotten mad too.” Kaito nodded and held out a hand for Hoshi to shake, which he did. 

“We’ll get revenge for Shuichi, you know? We’ll make sure the bastards who did this to him, and you guys, pay for this.” Mondo, seemingly already on his way to you, held out his phone to Kaito. 

“Looks like someone beat you to it.” He had pulled up an article on his phone from the news, detailing the death and almost meaningful placement of the body of a nearby Yakuza leader. Kaito read the article aloud before showing it to you, a picture making a wave of nausea rise in your chest. It wasn't the violence or death that bothered you, it was the man in the photo. 

“That's him…” You muttered, torn between being sick at the sight of the man who tortured you or celebrating his death. You looked to Hoshi and Gonta, who seemed equally tense. 

“You didn't hear this shit from me, but Fuyuhiko? He takes care of problems like that guy, when he has to. My guess is you won't have to worry about those fuckers again, not after this.” You just nodded as Kaito left, mentioning he’d be back later. Quickly, you turned to Gonta and Hoshi, a sigh of relief leaving you. 

“He's dead… that asshole, he's fucking dead!” You covered your mouth at the sound of your joy, unsure of how to feel. 

Mostly, though, you felt relieved. The man who had kept you captive for months, threatened you, beaten you, not to mention what he had done to Gonta and Hoshi, was permanently out of the picture. You no longer had to wonder what he was planning, whether he would come looking for you again, not now. 

“Good.” Was all Hoshi said, smiling alongside you. Briefly, the three of you talked about what had happened, about leaving the building soon, about figuring out a way to hold a memorial for Saihara. You had no clue where his body would be anymore, so he couldn't be buried, but surely you could set up something to say goodbye, to thank him for trying to save you. It was easy to fall asleep after such an exhausting, emotional day, laying down and letting your eyes fall closed when you felt you had nothing else to say. 

“(Y/N)? Gonta?” 

“Mm?” You responded, eyes still shut. 

“Love you guys.” His voice was soft, quiet, and you smiled. 

“Love you too, Ryo.” 

“Gonta loves Ryoma and (Y/N) as well!” You giggled, too tired to even sit up. You drifted off happily, feeling more at peace than you had in quite a while. It didn't last long, however. Just like the night before, nightmares came at you quickly and constantly as you tossed and turned in your bed. 

This time, Hoshi was the first to wake from his dreams, startled and gripping the blanket tightly in his good hand. He flexed his fingers, trying in vain to forget what he had seen. His nightmare had been of the day that he had held you and Gonta under the water, pushing you in deeper even as you squirmed and the air bubbles indicating your screams started to stop. 

He held you and Gonta under until you were lifeless and even when he pulled you out, you didn't come back. Your chests were still, no matter what he did, you were gone. He woke up after giving up on bringing you back to home, glancing between you and Gonta and watching as you breathed and turned over in your sleep. It was enough of a reassurance that you were alive for him to lay back down, counting your heartbeats on a monitor until he was able to fall back asleep. 

It was an ongoing cycle for a couple of hours, one of you waking up from a nightmare where the others died or got hurt, making sure they were okay, and then going back to sleep, only for another nightmare to occur. Mondo, taking a turn on guarding the door, noticed as Gonta woke up for the second time, the faintest sob escaping him as he wiped his eyes and tried to calm himself down. 

“Hey, are you alright?” He asked, leaving his chair by the door and sitting on the edge of Gonta’s bed. 

“Gonta had a nightmare, he’ll… he's okay.” Gonta forced a smile and tried to slow his breathing down a bit, wondering how late it was. 

“The others have been as well, they keep waking up and checking on you.” Gonta looked over and noticed the pain in Hoshi’s features as he tossed and turned a bit, you in a similar position. Mondo and Gonta chatted for a moment, passing the time until Gonta felt a bit better. You shot up in your bed, panting and clutching your chest, heartbeat thrumming in your ears. You had had a nightmare about being back in that room, a gun forced into your hands and told to choose between Gonta and Hoshi, kill one or both would die. You could still feel the cold steel against your skin as you returned to reality, quickly looking over at Gonta and Hoshi. 

“Hey, did I wake you up?” You asked softly, not wanting to wake Hoshi up as well. 

“No, Gonta had a bad dream as well, Mondo was helping him calm down a bit. Is (Y/N) okay?” You nodded, not wanting to worry him any more than necessary. 

“I will be, now that I'm awake.” Mondo looked at you curiously, thinking for a moment before getting an idea. 

“Here, I want to try something.” You watched with wide eyes as Mondo started pushing Gonta’s hospital bed towards the middle, not stopping until he connected with Hoshi’s bed, startling him awake. 

“What's going on?” He muttered, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. 

“Nightmares, again.” You replied, jumping when Mondo started pushing your bed towards Hoshi as well. It took some arranging, between the IV poles and all of the wires, but after a few minutes, your three beds had become one large one. 

“Mikan and Taka might kill me for this, but you three need to be able to hold each other when this kinda stuff happens. It helps, trust me.” All three of you exchanged glances, unsure of what to do. 

“Let me know if you need anything, ‘kay?” Mondo left the room and you started to scoot closer to Hoshi, mindful of your IV line and his cast. It had been so long since you had been this close to him, without fear, without having to protect him from someone. Still, old habits resurfaced as the three of you cuddled together, overlapping blankets and getting comfortable. 

In the end, Gonta had his arms wrapped around you both, Hoshi sandwiched between you gently to keep from making his arm worse. No one needed to speak, just enjoying the familiar contact between each other. You pressed your face against Hoshi’s chest, listening to his heartbeat as you started to fall back asleep. This time, you stayed asleep, the comfort of having both of your boyfriends right there warding off any nightmares. 

All three of you slept soundly, relaxed by each other's presence until morning came and hushed whispers caught your attention. You didn't move, barely awake as it was and not wanting to disturb Gonta or Hoshi. 

“They needed this, you know? I get that it wasn't great, like, medically, and something could have happened, but Alter Ego would have let us know if something changed.” You recognized Mondo’s voice and the little sigh that followed sounded like Mikan. 

“They do look peaceful… Just warn me next time, so I can keep a closer e-eye on them.” You drifted back off, smiling softly. You were too comfortable and safe to care about what time it might have been or the repercussions of moving the beds. All that mattered was that the next time you woke up, it would be wrapped in Gonta’s arms, face buried in Hoshi’s neck. You groaned as someone shifted, not ready to get up. 

“Stay.” You whispered, trying to pull Hoshi back to you as he moved to escape Gonta’s hold on him. 

“Gotta get up, it's late.” 

“Gonta doesn't want to yet, he wants Ryoma to stay for a little longer.” You didn't miss the little huff that Hoshi replied with, but he stopped moving, letting you pull him close. You didn't go back to sleep, just rested, thinking. 

It would be a long time before the three of you were okay. Physically, maybe a few weeks, but mentally, you would never be the same.

 Fear would creep up on you from seemingly unimportant things, you’d find yourself looking over your shoulder, unwilling to be alone. 

You would have scars to last you years, and you would never be the same person that you had been before this happened. 

But, cuddled close to Hoshi and Gonta, you could have hope. Hope that someday, you’d be alright, all of you would. Maybe no overnight, maybe not soon, but one day, this would only be your past. 

[rllysick]

Rick Sanchez x Reader: Multiple Part Stories

Rick Sanchez x Reader: Multiple Parts

One

Make up Sex by NikkiDoodle: After a near death experience Rick and you decide it's high time you both get so drunk you forget the whole experience.The only problem is neither one of you can keep your hands to yourselves while drunk.

Second Time Around by NikkiDoodle:  After the motel sex you see if Rick's offer was legit. Only difference is now that you're sober you're super shy and extremely innocent acting which puts Rick in a dominating position.

Science by NikkiDoodle: Beth and Jerry have been at each other's throats over Rick. Jerry doesn't want Rick around you, and Beth sees nothing wrong with it as she defends her father once again. Only she's wrong. So terribly wrong. And they both find that out the moment that garage door is opened. (smut mentioned)

Science Fair by NikkiDoodle: You need help with your collage science project. So you ask Rick for help. (2 Chapters)

Merry Christmas by NikkiDoodle: Your mother and father decide to have Christmas at your uncle Jerry's house this year. Now your parents get to meet Rick Sanchez, the man who you were caught with in the garage this summer. (5 Chapters)

You Can't Be Serious by NikkiDoodle:  Jerry over heard Rick's confessions of love and looses it. Thinking that you're being played by Rick - like the rest of his family - he wants things to end.

Two

The Blind's Side by Jinkies_Lydia: This takes place after episode one of season two. How the reader meet and became involved with Rick Sanchez after Morty won't keep his blinds down and she keeps seeing things from her window she'd rather not see.

Tickets to Ride by Jinkies_Lydia:  Takes Place after season 2 episode 2. The reader has decided to warm up to the idea of Rick's flirting. And has found the perfect opener after Rick returns with a fist full of tickets from Blips and Chitz.

I Like 'em Mean by Jinkies_Lydia:  Takes place after season 2 episode 3. The Reader is worried about Rick. And learns a bit about Unity.

Real Weird by Jinkies_Lydia: Takes place after season 2 episode 4.

Should You Stay or Should You Float? Consider Headism Today! by Jinkies_Lydia: Takes place during season 2 episode 5.

Bloodhound by Jinkies_Lydia:  This story is about period sex. If that is not your thing turn around now. Takes place after season 2 episode 7, “Big Trouble in Little Sanchez”. The Reader comes onto Rick at her bloodiest time of the month after a wild ride previously with Rick after killing his other clone bodies, drenched in his own blood.

Hello, Mr. Merlot by Jinkies_Lydia: There is mild sexual references in this story, but over all it’s more a reflection piece about the reader’s building relationship with Rick and his family. Takes place after season 2 episode 8.

Bullet Proof by Jinkies_Lydia:  Installment for season 2 episode 9

Flat line by Jinkies_Lydia:  Installment for season 2 episode 10

Three

All In by Hoodoo: Rick C-137 invites you along to his standing poker game with some of the boys--alternate versions of himself. You have no money and only a rudimentary knowledge of the game of poker, but don't worry, they'll find a way to make it work. (8 Chapters)

Double Up by Hoodoo: Miami Rick invites you to a private party at his penthouse, plus Cop Rick but minus Rick C-137. A sequel to "All In". (7 Chapters)

Slow Play by Hoodoo: Rick C-137 + Miami Rick + Cop Rick + reader = pure filth. (4 Chapters)

Four

What's A Girl Like You Doing in a Place Like This? by Hoodoo:  Bartending gives you the opportunity to meet--and hook up with--Ricks.

Young Punk in a Fur Coat by Hoodoo: You don’t need an addiction to Kalaxian Crystals; you already have an addiction to Ricks and that’s plenty.

Council of Ricks: Riq IV by Hoodoo: Most Ricks were dickish, but this one buries the needle on that gauge. How much can you take?

What Evil Lurks in the Heart of Rick? by Hoodoo: The lovely Maidservant_Hecubus wanted to see how our intrepid bartender [you!] would handle Evil Rick. Let's find out, shall we?

Riq IV: Revisited by Hoodoo: Riq IV is walked through the Citadel wearing his leather harness and collar. You're holding the leash.

Incubi, When You Need It by Hoodoo: You've been having horrible nightmares. Good thing SEAL Team Ricks are there to help you forget.

Denied by Hoodoo: A new Rick comes into the bar. You'd love to hook up with him, but three strikes and you're out.

Saurophile by Hoodoo: A Rick you've never, ever seen before--nay, never even imagined may exist!--comes into the Bar. Of course you're intrigued, but . . . can it even be physically possible?

Shortcomings by Hoodoo: Early on in your career as a bartender at The Bar, you meet a Rick who's not quite like the others.

Riq IV: Something New by Hoodoo: Riq has another session with Bartender, who surprises him with something he didn't know he wanted...

Play That Song by Hoodoo: A new Rick with talented fingers comes into the Bar . . .

Give and Take by Hoodoo: Another night that Riq IV, Speaker for the Council of Ricks, shows up at the Bar, needing a little release. A little discipline. But he also wants to please his Mistress, and brings along a new toy...

Teetering on the Edge of a Blade by Hoodoo: Like the rest of them, the SEAL Team member with mismatched eyes occasionally visits the Bartender privately.

Triple Play by Hoodoo: Riq IV + reader + young upstart Council member Maximums Rickimus = Hardcore hijinx!

Submerged by Hoodoo: A Rick who can't make it to the Bar asks our intrepid Barkeep to visit him. She knows why he's asking, and agrees to meet him on his terms.

That Was How by Hoodoo: The Barkeep has met a lot of Ricks. How did she get to where she was? Why is she so obsessed with them? Rick c-137 holds the key. 

[godlyborn]

never felt a feeling of comfort. / bailey ft. elias pt. iii

date: december 12, 2020 (though some parts are set in the past) trigger warnings: slight child abuse, abandonment mention, war mention, death mention

part i // part ii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii

Bailey opened her suitcase. After a long talk with Logan about whether or not she should take a chance and go to Michigan, along with a talk with Hannah about going there, she decided it was time. Bailey had spent most of the week with this on her mind. Though there was a part of her that felt like it was going to backfire, there was always that part of her that wanted this - no - needed this. Bailey had spent years being left by people, that it made it hard for her to actually open up to others. 

Bailey’s mind was plagued with the bad memories that came with thinking about all the places she was passed around as a child. All the places that couldn’t accept her for who she was. All the places that tore down her spirit as a child. 

&&&.

Bailey sat on the floor outside her foster parent’s room, listening to them screaming in the background. Bailey was five. “She’s psychotic, Mark!” Ellen screamed to the other. Bailey jumped slightly at the noise.

“Ellen, the girl is five,” Mark replied.

“She threw a plate at Anna!” Ellen replied. At that point Bailey had tears in her eyes. She didn’t mean to do that. Anna had screamed at her, teased her for not having a family. Anna was their biological child, Bailey would never be her. 

Anna was teasing her and Bailey lost control, her powers had just started to show. The plate flew off the shelf, nearly hitting the other girl. Because they were mortal, it looked like Bailey had thrown it. That was the house where Bailey was then labeled as “violent”.

“She’s leaving tomorrow,” Ellen said. “I will not have a child in my house bully my daughter, Mark.”

“I understand,” he said back.

“Sharon will be picking her up, tomorrow morning.”

And she did.

&&&.

There were many homes that treated Bailey that way. She wasn’t important. Something always happened that ended in them sending Bailey back to the group home. Bailey wondered how someone could just do that. Trade her like she was some kind of toy being labeled as ‘defective’. Bailey never had a true home, not until Camp Halfblood. 

Though Bailey felt at home when it came to Camp Halfblood, there was always a part of her that longed for her to be somebody to someone. Bailey looked at her friends and her siblings, and saw some of them were with their parents, their mothers. Bailey wanted that. Bailey wanted that feeling of being loved.

&&&.

Bailey was six. She stood in the living room of her foster home. She had just broken the lamp in the living room. This wasn’t the first time that this had happened in this home, but this was the last. She could hear her foster Dad screaming at her, scolding her for what she had done. He obviously didn’t see what really happened. It was like Bailey was on a different plane of existence. She was getting yelled at, but it was like someone else was getting yelled at. If it didn’t feel like her, it would be like this wasn’t happening again. It hurt less that way. She was six, but Bailey knew what exactly was happening. 

She was snapped back into reality when Bailey’s wrist was grabbed by her foster dad, dragging her toward the room she was given. When he gripped too tight, she yelped, Bailey didn’t mean to zap him, but it happened and he pulled away quickly. “Go to your room, now!” he screamed. Bailey jumped, but she obeyed.

The next morning she was picked up from that home, with just the words ‘she just wasn’t a good fit’ and ‘danger to others’.

&&&.

Even at Camp Halfblood, a part of Bailey never felt safe. There was always a part of her that wouldn’t fully trust someone, would be scared they’d leave. Bailey had spent so many years losing people, that she never felt like she could put herself out there. She was scared to be alone, scared to feel alone again. There was always a part of Bailey that felt like she would be alone again. 

When the war came around, Bailey felt cursed. She had lost friends, and family, and most of all, she lost her home. Seeing Camp Halfblood in ruins, it hurt. This was her home, the only home that she knew. After that though, it felt tainted. Then, when it felt like she was at her worst, it got worse. When Bailey heard that Abel had died, it was like a piece of her cracked. Home wasn’t home anymore, it was just filled with broken memories from the Gods treating them like pawns. The war and Abel, made it feel like her father too had left her. Unlike many others, she didn’t leave her home, but it felt like her home had left her.

&&&.

Bailey was thirteen when she saw her sister crack. Rory didn’t leave, Rory didn’t die, but when Abel died they took a piece of her with them, and Bailey could tell. She knew that Rory was trying to be strong for her, but Bailey could tell it broke Rory. It wasn’t too long after the death of Abel, that Bailey really saw - or in her case - heard Rory actually break. Bailey had planned to go to bed that night, but every time she shut her eyes, she could see the events of what happened in the previous months unfold. She spent many nights awake because of this.

It was quiet at first, but it was there. Bailey wasn’t sure what it was at first, but soon she recognized it. It was Rory crying. Bailey just sat there in the silence, listening to Rory’s sobs. Bailey thought about going in there, holding her sister tight, but there was a part of Bailey that knew she couldn’t fix this or make it better. She knew that if Rory knew that Bailey heard, she’d feel bad because she knew Rory was trying to be strong for her. That’s when Bailey decided she had to be strong for Rory. 

Bailey shut everything off then. Bailey couldn’t break, she had to be the strong one then. Bailey told herself that it was better if she locked it all away, much like she had told herself plenty of times before that. If she locked it away, it didn’t hurt as much. 

And instead of someone else leaving Bailey, she was leaving herself.

&&&.

Bailey heard a knock on her door, and she put the stuff she was holding into the small suitcase. She turned, opening it up to reveal her cousin, Elias. “Hey,” she greeted him, a smile upon her face. 

Elias held up the two bracelets that he always carried with him, ones that transformed into his sheath of arrows and recurve bow. “Just please don’t lose them okay? I know I’m a pacifist, but that’s literally the only weapon I’m good at.”

“Noted,” Bailey said. “I promise I won’t lose them, E.”

Elias clipped them onto Bailey’s wrist. “Are you sure about this Bailey?” Bailey could tell that the other was shaking. “I mean, Michigan is so far and you don’t know her, and--”

“Elias,” Bailey cut him off, grabbing hold of his hands to comfort him and reassure him. Elias was always the voice of reason, the one to think of what could really go wrong, maybe sometimes too much. “I’ll be fine I promise. This place is my home, nothing is going to keep me from this place.”

Elias let out a soft sigh. “What about the monsters? We have a pretty bad history of it this year, with your sister and my brother.”

Bailey nodded. “That’s why I will have my ax and your arrows, Elias it’s going to be okay, sometimes we have to travel outside of Camp Halfblood. Our blood shouldn’t stop us from doing that. Besides I think if I didn’t go, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, more than I’ll regret any monster attack that happens as a result.”

“I already almost lost Rory and Sefa, I can’t lose you,” Elias said. 

Bailey wrapped her arms around Elias in a hug. “You won’t E, I promise. I’ve been here since I was seven years old, I’ve been through a damn war, I think I can handle a monster or two if need be, okay?”

Elias squeezed her back in a hug. He took another breath, trying not to cry. “Just be careful, alright?”

“I will, I promise,” Bailey replied. “I’ll be back before you even know I’m gone.”

When they broke, Elias left back to his own cabin, and she was alone again.

&&&.

Bailey was alone again.

A balloon was filling up inside her, ready to pop. Her emotions that buried themselves for years, the thing she taught herself coming back to haunt her. After her fight with Abel, she found herself outside the border so no one could hear her cry, scream, anything that made her feel like she mattered to someone, to even the universe. 

Bailey knew deep down she had so many people in her corner, but at times like these when someone leaves her, it felt like she was alone again. She was angry, she was upset. All that Abel needed to say was that they wouldn’t leave her. 

Every time she felt like this, she felt like that little girl who needed love and didn’t get it again.

Bailey let the balloon pop.

Her screams echoed, the wind blowing the trees, leaves falling from them. She screamed till her throat was raw and she had tears streaming down her cheeks. She fell to her knees, sobbing. What was wrong with her? Was she broken? What was so hard about loving her?

[youralternantpersonality]

Endless Love

Paul x Reader: Endless love

Part 1: Eternal Love

Part 2: Everlasting Love

Part 3: Endless Love

Part 4: Enduring Love

***

Your POV

The sun came up and it was slightly warm again. I looked around for Snout but couldn’t find him. I get up tirelessly from the ground only to see a figure of a woman in front of me. She is blurry but shaped like a shadow. She was slender and small with an authority like stance. And without a second thought, I ran.

I looked behind me and I saw her just standing there. Looking in my direction. Whoever it was, or whatever it was, wasn’t going to leave. That I was for sure aware of.

Paul’s POV

We pull up to this small cottage in the middle of nowhere (shocking!) and watched as some of the Cullen’s friends step out of the house. My inner wolf is just dying to come out at this point. The Cullen’s, I can handle, but these people…unknown leeches…that’s a different story. Carlisle does his grand gesture and greeting, and we all move inside.

“Come, young Paul, I will show you where she is at. I know the last place you want to be at is here with us.” One of the blondes said. I followed her down a long hallway into a guest bedroom. From the door, I could see her, tubes tied, and machines keeping her alive. Blondie tells me she’ll be outside if I need anything.

I just watch her from the door. Tears forming in my eyes as I watch her from across the room. I somehow find myself walking towards her, ignoring the chair next to her bed and lay down next to her. making sure I move all the tubes around so that I don’t hurt her. Her body isn’t as warm as it used to be. As if she was barely hanging on. As if she was ready to let go. As if she was showing me what she’d feel like when she’s turned. Could I be ready for that?

Your POV

It started raining not too long ago. I ran around looking for protection until I came upon a cave. I had been sitting in here for a while, watching the rainfall endlessly outside. Trying to keep warm, I curl into a ball and try to lock in warmth. Not too long afterward, a rush of heat consumes me, and I do nothing but relax into it.

Not paying attention anymore, I don’t realize that at the entryway of the cave is the woman and Snout. He barks and it echoes through the cave. I turn to look, and I see them. She points at me and Snouts comes running my way. To frightened to move, and too cold to scream, I wait for my ending. But instead, Snout comes up to me and licks my face with his tail wagging and his barking throughout the cave. It’s not until I notice the lady at the cave is now sitting in front of me.

In an instant flash, the cave brightens up and I see her face. She was beautiful. I’ve seen her somewhere, but I can’t remember where. She looks like someone I know, but I keep coming up blank. She smiles at me and starts talking.

“He was right. You are beautiful. It’s ashamed I never got to meet you.” The lady smiles. I look at her confused and respond.

“Who’s he? And what do you mean? Do I know you?” I ask, confused as can be. She shakes her head and smiles.

“No, but I know plentiful of you and have been watching you for a while now. I see you’ve taken great care of my son. I just wanted to say thank you.” She smiles. I take a good look at her. She has clear and bright honey-olive skin with beautiful brown eyes. Her long black hair extenuates the glow around her skin and her smile just brightens the room. There was a calming and motherly feel around her.

“Your son? Who’s your son?” I look at her confused. Her head falls slightly, and the corner of her lips turn downward.

“It’s okay that you don’t remember him. You will eventually. Just remember one thing,” she pauses to look at me and I nod my head.

“Promise me, you’ll at least listen to him. Allow him to speak and to forgive him. It might be hard, lord knows he gets himself into some situations with you, but all I ask is for you to give him one more chance.” She looked at me with pleading eyes. I can’t help but nod at her, not knowing what I was getting myself into.

“Another thing…you’ll be given two choices soon. Make sure you choose the right one. Your life depends on it.” she then reaches over to me and hugs me, kisses my forehead, then walks to the edge of the cave. She looks back and smiles at me before disappearing. I look down at a sleeping Snout curled up to me. I am comfortably warm and decide to join him. I curl next to him and fall asleep too.

Paul’s POV

There’s a knock at the door and I turn to see the Good Doctor Cullen. Letting me know it is time and ask me if I’m 100 percent sure of this. I nod my head and go to sit in the chair next to her and hold her hand. It is only us two, Edward and Carlisle in the room. I watch as the Good Doctor take out eight syringes’—three of them look like clear water and the other five are filled with this silver thick liquid stuff.

“What the fuck is that?” I say looking at this shit. Carlisle chuckles and explains the clear stuff is morphine and the other ones are their venom.

“I always thought you guy’s venom would be, I don’t know, green, or black, or something. Not something like a kids art project where you put a crap tone of glue and add silver glitter and paint mix to it.”

“Are you saying our venom is pretty?” One of the blondes says from behind us. I let out a growl to warn her.

“Okay, okay, I’ll back away. I’ll see you guys in a few.”

“Thank you, Kate. Garrett should be here soon.” I hear the door shut and the front door to the house open and close. Good, we’re alone.

“So how is this going to work? You’re going to put her more to sleep and then put the venom in?”

“Essentially, yes. I don’t want to overdose her, but I want to numb her as much as possible with the morphine so she doesn’t feel nearly as much as she would.” Carlisle said.

“And we also don’t want you freaking out if she starts screaming in pain.” Edward finishes.

“Wait, screaming? In pain?! I thought it would be a little pinch or something. But screaming!?” I start freaking out a little. How bad is this transformation supposed to be?

“The venom reconstructs the bones, organs, tissues, cells, all of it. The body is calcifying itself to stone, which is a painful process even if she wasn’t dying.” I look at both of them in disbelief.

“Are you sure you want to-“ I cut him off,

“Yes. Just…make her as comfortable as possible. I can’t lose her…” I said looking down at her. This may be a selfish thing to do, but its either both of us, or none on earth. Carlisle nods and grab one of the morphine needles and stick it into her IV tube. After a few minutes, her smell heightens a little. Not sure if that’s good or bad.

“The morphine is settling in her.” Edward nods towards Carlisle and grabs the other one and injects it into her IV tube. All I can do is sit there, helplessly, watching her fight. I say a silent prayer to whoever wants to listen to protect her and bring her back. I wonder when she comes back, will she hate me? Resent me? Remember me? Forgive me? Would she love me again? Will I love her?

That last thought scared me. I looked at Edward and Carlisle then think back on everything about their type that irks me and wonder, will my views change just for her or because of her? Will I feel like that to her the way I feel about leeches in general? Or will she be the only one in my heart? I ask all these unanswered questions until one comment stops me.

“Are you ready Paul?” without looking up, I nod my head and allowed the Good Doctor to inject his venom into my love’s veins. ‘Till death do us part.

Your POV

The warmth that consumed me left, but in its place came a rush of drowsiness. I was disoriented and confused. I felt like I was plastered drunk. I didn’t know what was going on, but I couldn’t get up or move without struggling. Every time I tried to move, it’d get worse and worse and I begged it to stop. I wanted, for once, to touch the rain. Maybe it would help the dizziness. But right before I could reach it, it stopped raining. It was sunny instantly and the sun was making it warmer and warmer by the second.

I wanted to stay in the cave, but it was hotter in there than it was outside. I looked around for Snout, but I couldn’t find him again. I was walking from tree to tree, holding on in this heat. I need to get out of the forest before a fire starts. I tried running, but nothing happened. I just fell and screamed against the steaming hot ground. I grabbed onto the equally hot trees and just kept moving. I prayed to whoever is listening, to get me out of this heat before I die. I try to think happy thoughts, thoughts of my friends. Yes! My friends! I remember them! My friends and Snout when he was a puppy. I remember some of my family, but not really. Then I remember someone else. I don’t know who he is, but I know him. And I feel…I feel…hurt? Anger? Happy? I was so caught up in him that I didn’t notice a tree was falling in front of me.

“Ahh!” I scream and tried my best to run, but to no avail, I can’t. I cry more as it gets hotter and hotter as I go. Wishing for it to all stop.

Narrator POV

“I heard her,” Edward said.

“What?” Paul and Carlisle looked at him. Carlisle was injecting the second syringe in when he said it.

“I heard her. This whole time, I haven’t been able to, but now…now I can. I just heard her.”

“What did you see? What is she dreaming of? Is she dreaming?” Paul asked anxiously.

“It was a small glimpse; I just saw her grabbing on a tree, and she screamed. Then her mind shut off again. Something must’ve scared her. I’m not sure what, but something caught her off guard enough to let me see her.” Edward said with slight pride.

“The venom must be working then. She still has a long way to go Paul. But if Edward can read her, that’s a lot of progress.” Carlisle goes around the bed and places a hand on Paul’s shoulder.

“Trust me, she will be okay, as long as Edward can read her.” He goes back to what he was doing by grabbing the third syringe and injecting it into her major artery in her inner thigh. Making sure to inject her in different areas to assure her body takes the venom.

Paul grabs Y/n hand and gently strokes in, occasionally kisses it, but bows his head on it as Carlisle finished the last one. They go to leave and plan on checking her every hour or so. Paul would never admit this out loud—and not when Edwards is in the proximity of him—but he’s grateful for them. Now, is all about playing the waiting game for the next three days.

My Love (for the series)

MasterList