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yelena-bellova · 3 years

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Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Two

chapter one -Chapter Two: According To Plan - chapter three

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n and Sam leave for Munich, gaining the surprise addition of Bucky Barnes to their team.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader, Sam Wilson x platonic!reader

Warnings: spoilers for ep.2, language, violence, squint for fluff in between all the chaos, Y/n and Bucky ain’t feeling each other yet, protective big brother Sam, nobody likes Walker

Word Count: 7.5k (ya’ll, we had to split episode 2 into two chapters because I use too many words lol)

A/N: OKAY, thank you to everybody for supporting the first chapter. I didn’t really think anything would come of it but I was clearly wrong. Hopefully you enjoy this one just as much, each episode will probably be divided into two chapters if the rest of the season continues on like it is.

----

The government hadn’t just failed Sam, they were rubbing his face in the fact that they thought their knockoff Captain America was a better candidate than him.

I followed my brother down the halls of the New Orleans air force base, trying to ignore the paraphernalia that hung on the walls. John Walker was everywhere you looked; the internet, televisions, posters were plastered all over the city announcing his new appointment. Each time I had to read the words ‘Cap Is Back’ I became a little sick to my stomach. Sam stopped in front of me once we’d reached the hanger to stare at one of the posters. Though he tried to keep his face neutral, the sadness bled through in his eyes.

“Seems like a good guy. You met him?” a man who I assumed was Sam’s military contact asked.

“No,” Sam answered before changing the topic, “Thanks for doing this on such short notice.” “Yeah, no sweat. I’m just finishing up the checklist, you two’ll be all good to go once you land in Munich,” he looked to me and reached a hand for me to shake, “Joaquin Torres.” “Y/n Y/l/n. Thanks for not making any noise about me coming along for the ride.”

“Hey, I trust an Avenger’s judgement on who to bring to a fight,” he smiled, stopping at the top of the steps to allow me to go before himself.

I elbowed Sam as we descended the stairs side by side, “Hear that? You’ve got good judge- why’re you making that face?” Before he could answer, a foreign voice announced its presence. “Shouldn’t have given up the shield.”

My eyes fell to the floor below us and climbed the looming figure waiting at the end of the staircase. I didn’t need to have any history lessons on who he was or why he’d come to talk to Sam about such a subject. James Bucky Barnes, the second 100+ year old man to walk the earth without a single wrinkle. The tragic tale of HYDRA’s bloodthirsty history. The man Sam had fought to protect and been sent to prison for.

“Good to see you too, Buck,” Sam passively greeted the man, swerving around his body to continue on our path to the jet. The hint wasn’t taken.

“This is wrong.”

“Hey, hey, look, I’m working, alright? So all this outrage is gonna have to wait.” Bucky fell into step on the other side of Sam, pointing towards yet another poster of John Walker, “You didn’t know that was gonna happen?”

“No, of course I didn’t know that was gonna happen,” Sam’s tone became more emotional, “You think it didn’t break my heart to see them march him out there and call him the new Captain America?” “This isn’t what Steve wanted,” Bucky pushed. Sam was growing tired of the questioning, “What do you want me to do? Call America and tell ‘em I changed my mind? Huh? Yeah, right. It’s a great reunion, buddy, be well.” “You had no right to give up that shield, Sam.” I could no longer stay silent and let him try and make a good man feel guilty. “Okay, you’re out of line with that one, Barnes.” Bucky finally took a second to register my being there before looking back to Sam, “Who the hell is this?” “She’s none of your concern, but let me tell you what you’re not gonna do,” Sam stood in front of Bucky, “You’re not gonna come here in your overextended life and tell me about my rights. It’s over, Bucky. Besides, I have bigger things to deal with now.” Emotions I couldn’t fully understand took over Bucky’s face, “What could be bigger than this?”

Sam fished his phone out of his back pocket and held it up to the Super Soldier, “This guy. His connections with rebel organizations all over Eastern and Central Europe and he’s strong. Too strong.” “And?” Bucky asked, unimpressed.

“Well, he’s been connected to this online group called the Flag Smashers. Now, Redwing traced them to a building somewhere outside of Munich so that’s where I’m going,” Sam turned to me to signal we were walking again.

“Well, I don’t trust Redwing,” Bucky continued his pursuit, “Hold on a minute.” “You don’t have to trust Redwing,” Sam said firmly as we paused again, “But I’mma go see if he’s right. ‘Cause I have a feeling they might be a part of the Big Three.”

Bucky’s eyebrows lowered in confusion, “What ‘Big Three?’”

“The Big Three.”

“What Big Three?” “Androids, aliens and wizards,” I answered before Sam could. “That’s not a thing,” Bucky shook his head. “That’s definitely a thing,” Sam nodded. “No, it’s not.” “It really is,” I set my bag down on the ground and crossed my arms, there was no indication we’d be leaving any time soon.

“Every time we fight, we fight one of the three,” Sam insisted.

“So who are you fighting now, Gandalf?”

Sam inhaled to continue arguing before snapping his head back in surprise, “How do you know about Gandalf?” “I read The Hobbit,” Bucky answered confidently, “In 1937 when it first came out.”

“So you see my point?” “No, I don’t. There are no wizards.” I pointed to Bucky and tilted my head towards Sam, “Now there, I agree with him.” Sam looked offended that I didn’t automatically back him up, “You both are wrong…Doctor Strange.” “Is a sorcerer,” Bucky finished.

“Aah!” Sam laughed and poked Bucky’s firm chest, “A sorcerer is a wizard without a hat. Think about it, right? I’m right. I just came up with that, it’s crazy.” Bucky’s face read that he was thousand shades of done with Sam’s childish argument, even if he’d fought just as immaturely. I was beginning to see why Sam didn’t recount his brief time spent with the ex-Winter Soldier that fondly but I’d also forgotten how easy it was to push Sam’s buttons sometimes. There was some unwitting dynamic between them that I didn’t want to be in the middle of. “So glad we’re wasting valuable time on arguing over whether or not Harry Potter’s real,” I spoke up, tapping my foot out of impatience.

Sam was the first to snap back to reality, “That’s not the point. These guys aren’t magical, alright? They use brute force just like you, the incredibly annoying guy in front of me with the staring problem,” he reached down to grab my bag and hand it to me, “Let’s move.” “I’m coming with you,” Bucky called, the sound of his combat boots hitting the hanger floor behind us. “No, you’re not,” Sam answered harshly. “Oh my gosh,” I groaned before dropping my duffle bag again on the tarmac and spinning around to face the two men, “I don’t know how you two could have possibly saved the day as much as people say you have if you’re always like this! You,” I pointed to Sam, “Stop trying to do this on your own. You,” I moved my finger towards Bucky, “No more talking about the shield. If anybody needs me,” I wiggled my fingers and let the blue energy lift my bag into the air, “I’ll be waiting in the jet.” ——

Bucky and Sam stood speechless as they watched Y/n march across the tarmac, her bag magically floating behind her. “Who is she?” “My sister, Y/n,” Sam answered, “I didn’t know she could do that till today. She twisted my arm until I agreed to let her come.” Bucky’s eyes hadn’t left Y/n since she took control and ended Sam and his bickering. There weren’t many people who met him for the first time and didn’t give him a second glance. If she was Sam’s sister then she sure as hell knew about his past. Yet here she was daring to order him around and advocate for him to join Sam and her on their mission. It also went without saying that she was gorgeous. But she had proven that she didn’t understand the seriousness in which the situation with the new Captain America needed to be treated with, and that irked him. Still, his feet automatically wanted to carry him to the jet once she’d headed up the ramp and he’d lost his view of her. “Can’t decide whether I like her or not.”

——

Not having a suit to wear, I had changed on the jet from my sweater, capris and sneakers to a black shirt, jeans, booties and my favorite blue leather jacket that matched the blue that flowed from my fingertips.

When I stepped out of the jet’s bathroom, I expected to find Sam and Bucky fighting again. The whole flight so far has been filled with the same tension that had begun in the hanger and we’d been sitting in uncomfortable silence ever since. I was sure that the second I left, they’d be going at it again like children when a parent disappeared. Instead, they were quietly sitting on opposite sides of the jet with their eyes trained on one another.

“Can you guys quiet down for a second?” I sarcastically remarked as I walked across the room, “I can’t hear myself think.”

I deposited my bag in the corner of the jet near where Torres was climbing down the ladder, “One minute to drop off, Sam.”

I expected to turn around and see both Sam and Bucky up and preparing themselves, but the two men were still embroiled in a stare down. Sam and I had always cheesed each other off in a typical sibling fashion, but Bucky and his relationship seemingly consisted of nothing but that.

Sam finally rose from his seat and Bucky quickly did the same, I brushed past him to stand on the other side of Sam. “So what’s the plan?” Sam ignored the question and handed me a small black device, “This is your comm, don’t lose it.” I nodded and placed the small ear piece in my ear, the faint hums of the jet coming through it.

With no direction from Sam, Bucky sat back down unhappily. “Great. So no plan?”

“Thirty seconds,” Torres shouted over the wind coming in from the open hatch.

“Enjoy your ride, Buck,” Sam remarked from beside me. “No, you can’t call me that.” “Why not? That’s what Steve called you.” “Steve knew me longer and Steve,” Bucky tilted his head to Sam, “Had a plan.”

I shook my head to shake off the ridiculousness of arguing nicknames at the moment. “I’m sorry, are we really playing the name game when we’re literally about to jump out of a plane? I get this is my first mission and all but- Bucky’s eyebrows shot up his forehead as he looked to Sam, “This is her first mission? What the hell were you thinking, bringing her?” “She,” I took a step towards Bucky, “Is more than capable of handling herself. First mission or 100th, I know what I’m doing, Barnes.”

“Fifteen seconds to drop!” Torres’ announcement ended any further arguing between me and Bucky.

“Listen to the woman,” Sam smirked as he put on his goggles, probably thinking back to a few hours ago when I’d body slammed him into the roof, “And I have a plan.”

“Really?” Bucky spread his arms out as we watched Sam walk away from us, “What is it?” Sam had already told me that he’d drop in first and I was to follow once he’d cleared the area. Bucky had not been privy to hearing that discussion and Sam had made no effort to fill him in. Without giving Bucky a second look, but winking at me, he dove headfirst out of the hatch and activated his wings, flying gracefully downwards towards the forest. I had never gotten to see him fly and felt a sense of pride as I looked out to see him glide above the trees.

“Where’s the chute?” Bucky called out.

“We’re at 200 feet, it’s too low for a chute,” Torres stated.

Bucky stalked towards the door, “I don’t need it anyway.”

“Neither will I,” I said, taking a step forward to see just how high we really were. I was confidant in my ability to keep up with Sam and wanted to prove my capability, but I was human. It went against every natural instinct to step out into the air and catch myself. Bucky moved to stand next to me, the two of us turning to face each other. This was the first time we’d actually made more than fleeting eye contact and I was finally able to get a good look at him. His features were sharp, his cheekbones and jaw were extremely prominent. Something more than scruff and less than a beard covered the bottom half of his face. His eyes were cerulean blue, just nearly matching the shade of my energy. Complete with a short, scruffy haircut, I wasn’t sure if handsome was a strong enough word for just how good looking James Barnes was.

“Ladies first,” Bucky nodded towards our exit, never breaking eye contact, “Sure you know what you’re doing?” I smiled smugly, matching the amount of sass radiating from his words, “Do you?”

Not wanting to give him the opportunity to think up a come back, I turned away from him and threw myself out of the plane. An unavoidable scream flew from my lips as I free fell, somehow managing in the chaos to threw my arms out at my sides and expel my energy to control my descent. Once I got a hold on maneuvering the winds, the act actually became almost enjoyable. I found myself laughing as I weaved between the trees, until my laughter was accompanied by a fast approaching scream above me. A shower of branches began to rain down around me forcing me to swerve to the side just in time for Bucky’s figure to come crashing through. He landed harshly on his back, limbs spread out and a pained groan escaping his lips.

I floated directly above him, “I stand corrected, you definitely know what you’re doing.” “I have all of that on camera. You know that, right?” Sam’s voice came through our comms. Redwing flew up from behind us and zoomed in on Bucky’s face.

“Get out of my face, Sam, or I’ll break it,” Bucky uttered, exhaustion filling his voice.

“Okay, head north. Come on.” I snickered at the exchange and lowered myself to the ground close enough to Bucky to extend him a hand. He accepted it and I helped pull him to an upright sitting position, trying to hide the fact that I struggled with his weight. “Thanks.” “Well, my mom taught me to always help my elders,” I said with a smirk, earning myself a scowl in response. “You’re as bad as Sam, aren’t you?” he moaned as he rose to his full height.

“Okay, okay,” I ceased my soft laughter, “I’m sorry. Seriously, are you okay? I know you’re a super soldier but still-” “I’m fine,” Bucky confirmed quickly, brushing the dirt from his jacket and turning north, “Let’s go.”

The two of us fell into a silence that wasn’t necessarily uneasy but certainly not relaxed. We weren’t enemies, we weren’t coworkers and we definitely weren’t friends. We’d spoken all of about five sentences to each other since meeting and none of them had been particularly chummy. “Sam only mentioned one sister,” Bucky broke the non-verbal spell.

“Sarah,” I stated, “We’re not technically related but they’re family. Sam told me he reached out to you and never got anything back. I think he was wondering how you were doing.” “Yeah, well…” he mumbled, stepping over a particularly large boulder and avoiding my gaze.

I decided not to push the subject, not only were we nearing the warehouse, Sam could hear us through the comms and Redwing. But I made a note of the lightning quick wave of emotion that crossed Bucky’s eyes. Sam was definitely a trigger for him, but I had a feeling this was something much more complicated. Something I didn’t have time to get too curious over.

We made it out of the forest and Redwing led us to the back entrance to the warehouse. The graffiti and wrecked roofing made me want to believe that nobody had been there in ages, but Sam’s intel contradicted the setting. My brother, the esteemed military man, was also contradicting his age as he maneuvered Redwing just above us to provoke Bucky into taking a swing at him. “Oh-ho-ho, don’t hurt him,” he teased as Redwing quickly avoided the assault.

Sam stood in the next room staring down at the screen on his wrist, scanning the building through Redwing’s camera. He took a quick look at me to assess that I hadn’t been injured in the fall before turning back.

“You’re doing the staring thing again,” he commented without looking up. That one I’d give him, Bucky’s smoldering stare game was intimidating especially when he wasn’t saying anything. “They’re in there,” Sam tilted his head towards the nearest open doorway and stretching his arm out so Bucky and I could see what Redwing was seeing. There was a truck with two people loading in containers of something.

“Where’s the guy?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know. I think they’re smuggling weapons though.” “Well, I think you could be right,” Bucky’s voice lowered. “Hmm,” Sam nodded.

“But there’s only one way to find out,” Bucky turned towards the doorway, “I see a clear path, I say we take it.”

As soon as his boot hit the ground in its first step, Sam reached for his arm. “We’re not assassins.” “Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, observe from a distance rather than attack straight away?” I offered.

Bucky’s eyes flicked to me when I spoke and promptly back to Sam, throwing away my suggestion. He probably thought me naive. “I’ll see you inside or not.”

He pulled his arm out of Sam’s grip and went ahead, leaving Sam chuckling to himself. “Hey, come on, man. I’m just messing with you, come back,” he called softly. “‘I’m just messing with you,’ the Avengers’ official slogan,” I dryly jested, “Here I was thinking we were doing serious work. Is Redwing still surveying?” “Yeah,” Sam was still smiling to himself as he turned to watch Bucky stalk down the hallway, “Look at you. All stealthy. A little time in Wakanda and you come out White Panther.”

“It’s actually White Wolf,” Bucky responded in our ears.

“Huh?”

When we lost visual on Bucky, Sam snapped his fingers and nodded towards the hallway. We made our way through the various openings until we’d caught up, Sam held up a finger to his lips as we caught sight of Bucky and our steps became even softer.

“All right, I’m inside. Therefore way ahead of you,” Bucky bragged, turning back to where he thought we waited, “It’s not great but very doable.” His peripherals must have caught the red and white of Sam’s suit, he turned to see the two of us at his side. “Hello. How are you?” “Good. What did we miss? Nothing,” Sam replied.

“All right, let’s go,” Bucky moved to step forward again.

“No, wait,” Sam protested.

Bucky held up his prosthetic vibranium arm I had heard so much about. “I got a vibranium arm, I can take them.” “And I can fly, she can make things float, who gives a shit? Wait. I want to see where they’re going.” Bucky pointed towards the truck that was still being loaded, “There’s two people.”

“You only see two?” Sam started. “That’s what I saw,” Bucky confirmed.

“Let me see what Redwing sees.” “All right…” “Let’s see what Redwing sees…”

I held two fingers to my temple and rubbed, “My gosh, it’s like working with children.”

Sam fiddled with a few controls on the screen and activated the x-ray feature on his beloved drone, “Oh, look at that. How many people you see now? One, two…Oh, here it comes again.” Bucky sighed, unhappy to admit he was wrong, “Four. Five.” “Yeah, five.” “So they’re strong, whatever,” Bucky brushed off not only the math but our group’s capabilities. “Let’s go.”

“Barnes, wait,” I hissed as Sam reached out and took hold of his arm, his elbow hitting the metal shelves we were hiding behind and rattling something.

“Shit!” Sam whispered, he pulled me to his side to block me while Bucky ducked down. The group turned to investigate the noise but disregarded it at the lack of visible culprits. The trucks started and their doors were closed, each person getting into their designated vehicle. Sam started tapping on Redwing’s controller again, “There’s an eighth person. I think they have a hostage.”

With one look from Bucky, the three of us snapped into action. I raised myself into the air ahead of Sam who took off slightly behind me, looking down to see Bucky running impossibly fast. “Y/n, with me,” Sam called through the comms, I listened and hung back until he’d caught up. Bucky continued on his way until he’d climbed onto the back of the truck. I followed Sam’s lead as we flew to the side of the road.

“Shouldn’t we be helping him?” I asked as the two of us landed.

“They’re stealing medicine, vaccines,” Bucky’s voice filled my comm.

“He’s got it, we’re staying here and waiting for him to come back with the hostage. Then you and I are gonna keep following the trucks and see where they’re heading,” he explained, “I’m trying to keep you out of as much of the fight as I can.” “That’s the whole reason I came, Sam,” I argued, gesturing towards the road, “To help, to fight.”

“Bucky, talk to me,” Sam favored to ignore my desire to do dirty work, “What’s goin’ on?”

“Found the hostage,” he reported, followed only seconds later by a loud exclaim of “Shit!”

Adrenaline set every nerve alight in my body, something had gone wrong. Without asking for Sam’s permission I took off running down the road. I used my energy to lift towards the sky and flew the same way the truck’s had gone. Distantly, I heard Sam yell my name but made no effort to stop. “Barnes, talk to me,” I yelled over the winds I was flying against. As I spotted the trucks I saw the small silhouettes of figures standing atop one of them. Once I got closer, I could see that the one being aggressively pinned by two of them was Bucky. I landed on the vehicle’s roof just in time to see someone leap into the air, grab Redwing and break him with their knee. Between my want to help Bucky and my second hand protectiveness over Sam’s gear, I was pissed. The masked figure looked up at me, two brown eyes peeking out of eyeholes and marched forward, making me their next target. I created a ball of blue energy and aimed it at her, knocking her down but only for a second. She leapt towards me and landed a punch across my cheek, I went down with a groan and cradling my cheek. Now I was really pissed…

I opened an eye to see the shadow of Sam’s Falcon suit above me, he touched down on the truck and landed a kick to my assaulter’s abdomen. He quickly helped me to my feet as our enemy rose again and took a fight stance.

“Good of you to join the fight, Sam,” Bucky yelled before kicking one of his captors in the leg.

The person who had given me the shiner threw Sam aside to the second truck like he was weightless. She was far too small to be that strong, it was inhuman. I decided to hold back a little less and raised my hands toward her, extending waves of the blue energy and raising her up into the air. She struggled to try and escape my hold, grunting and groaning as she flopped around in the air. I was about to throw her into the trees when I was tackled from behind. We skidded towards the front of the truck till the boot of one of the thugs holding Bucky down hit me in the shoulder. Another masked figure, this one I suspected to be a man, had his arms wrapped tightly around my abdomen. He flipped me over and raised his head to slam into mine. Luckily he hadn’t thought to pin my arms down and his mistake allowed me to throw them in front of my face and create a force field that even the thickest of skulls couldn’t penetrate. I looked briefly to see Sam being pinned down as well on the second truck but couldn’t free myself to go help him.

And then, in a conflicting twist of events, a red white and blue shield came flying through the air.

As I struggled to keep the force field up and my arms locked, I made out an equally patriotic suited man throw the shield at the one who had punched me earlier. A second figure swung in from a helicopter and kicked her off the truck, leaving her clinging to the edge of the roof. The shield flew in the direction of the people holding Bucky down and hit one square in the back before bouncing back to its wielder. The guy holding me down was struck next and rolled right off of me, I sent a significantly bigger blast towards his chest that sent him flying off the back of the truck. Bucky reached down and helped me stand up, he pulled me out of the way when the shield came flying by our faces to hit his other attackers.

“You gotta be kidding me,” I panted.

John Walker stopped briefly to introduce himself to Sam, like he hadn’t been living rent free in our minds since that damned tv broadcast before sending the shield flying past Bucky and I again. As it bounced off our enemies and back towards Walker, Bucky’s metal hand snapped up to grab it only for Walker to retake it. The time for anger or sadness wasn’t now, though the forlorn expression on Bucky’s face said otherwise. I broke from him and launched myself across the gap between trucks to land near where Sam was being attacked. Bucky followed suit and we began taking out each person one by one till Sam stood and turned too fast, hitting and sending Bucky plus one of the masked thugs over the side of the truck. Sam and I turned to face our last attacker who was stalking toward us, Sam glanced over his shoulder quickly before looking back ahead. “When I say ‘now,’ you shoot up,” he ordered, “Now!” I blasted upwards and over the overhead road sign he’d known would hit our attacker. I was too high to drop down suddenly but watched as Sam touched back down on the truck to be punched off the truck, activating his wings and catching himself in the wind. I flew downwards and lined up with the side of the truck, searching frantically for Bucky while trying to dodge the cars to my left. Bucky was clinging for dear life to the underside of the truck. His attacker stomped his metal arm with his boot till Bucky lost his grip with it and it dragged along the road creating a flurry of sparks.

“Sam, what do we do?” I yelled into my comm. “Now when I say ‘drop,’ you drop.” “Are you insane?!” I screeched, looking down at the asphalt and trying to calculate how fast I may be going. “DROP!”

Putting the most trust I ever had in Sam, I stopped the energy flow and was tackled mid-air by him. I twisted in his arms to wrap my legs around one of his and my arms around his back. Without warning, he flew us under the nearest truck before letting go of me with one arm and tackling Bucky. I readjusted my grip to have one arm around both of them. We dropped out of the air and crash-landed, rolling like a grunting and groaning wheel through a field of yellow flowers. Eventually we ceased our tumbling with Bucky on top of Sam and me to the side still clinging to both of them.

“Could have used that shield,” Bucky ground out tauntingly in Sam’s face.

“Get off of me,” Sam strained, shoving Bucky off with another loud grunt. I rolled to his other side and coughed loudly, having had the wind knocked out of me during the crash. The three of us lay on our backs trying to regain our breath, Sam and I more than Bucky but I chalked that up to the fact that he was just as strong as the people we’d just gotten our asses handed to us by. “Those were all Super Soldiers, Sam,” he stated in awe.

“I know,” Sam confirmed, “You’re welcome, by the way.” He pushed himself up painfully on an elbow to lean over me, “Are you okay?”

I was finally starting to feel like I could get some semblance of a normal breath in. I’d have wished it was running around with AJ and Cass that would have showed me I was out of shape and not losing a fight to Super Soldiers. “‘Big Three’ my ass, Wilson,” I wheezed, making no effort to sit up yet.

“I said ‘might be’,” Sam weakly fought, “‘Might be.’ Clearly I was wrong.”

“Will wonders never cease?” Bucky winced as he sat up, “We need to get to the airport and reformulate.” “Oh, do we now? Do we need to reformulate?” Sam mocked from the ground, “I hadn’t thought of that yet, Bucky, what an incredible-“ I groaned loudly and forced my torso up, “Dear God above, if you two don’t stop acting like twelve year olds, I’ll catch a Delta flight home.” “Good, that’s where I wanted you,” Sam reprimanded as he rose to join me, “I told you if you took some stupid risk, you were going back home and what did you do? You took off on your own towards those trucks!” “I was trying to help him,” I threw my hand out towards Bucky, “One way or another I would have gotten hurt, Sam, whether I’d have waited for you or not. And now that I’ve actually seen what we’re dealing with? No way am I going home.” I rolled onto my knees and got to my feet, my muscles aching with each movement I made to stand in front of the two men. “When you two decide to start acting like adults, I’ll meet you back at the jet.”

Holding in each groan that wanted to escape my mouth, I started my trek back towards the road, not making it very far until I heard two pairs of footsteps behind me.

We walked that way for most of the way, Sam and Bucky muttering something every once in a while to each other and me ahead of them trying to wrap my head around the situation. I had gotten myself tangled in the world of super soldiers, ones who weren’t using their advanced capabilities to save the world from one of the actual Big Three. Not only that but we’d had the displeasure of being rescued by the person the three of us had wanted to see least in the world. I had started the day out having coffee with Sarah on our back porch and by eastern standard time zone’s definition was ending it in Germany mid-afternoon with a killer bruise developing on my cheek. Whatever I had expected to come from joining Sam, it sure as hell wasn’t this.

A car honk summoned me out of my thoughts, an open roofed vehicle came up beside me and I was quick to identify the passengers. John Walker and the helicopter soldier.

“So that didn’t go as planned, huh?” Walker attempted to make friendly conversation, specifically with Sam and Bucky but I could sense I was also welcome to answer. I didn’t cease my movements and neither did Sam and Bucky which only caused Walker to instruct the driver to get ahead of us again. “Look, at least we know what we’re up against now, huh? And we’re pretty sure it’s one of the Big Three, so…” “Aliens, androids, or wizards?” the unnamed soldier double checked with Walker, who responded that he was still almost certain.

“There’s no such thing as wizards,” Bucky grumbled from behind me, sounding like the old man he biologically was.

“Then it’s aliens, or androids,” Walker shrugged. “Or Super Soldiers,” Sam corrected.

“Shit, Super Soldiers, for real?” Walker’s sidekick asked before turning in his seat to face, “Do you believe that?” “I believe that you two don’t know how to take a hint,” I frustratedly smiled at him, “But yes, I do.”

“Wow. All right, well, then we gotta work together,” Walker said. Bucky scoffed, “That’s not happening.”

“I think we stand a much better chance if we all just-“ Bucky finally lost his patience and said the thing we all were thinking, “Just ‘cause you carry that shield, it doesn’t mean you’re Captain America.”

Walker was quick to defend himself, “Look, I’ve done the work, okay?”

Bucky was equally as quick to prove him wrong, “You ever jump on top of a grenade?” “Yeah. Actually, I have. Four times,” Walker explained, “It’s a thing I do with my helmet. It’s a reinforced helmet. It’s a long story, but, look…It’s 20 miles to the airport, you guys need a ride.” A sudden cramp tore through my shin causing me to sharply inhale and grab the leg. Through the pain I managed to exhale and begin limping back along the path, “We’re good, thanks.”

“At least let us take her, she’s injured,” I heard Walker attempt to convince Sam and Bucky, knowing that I was probably a means to an end to get them in the car.

I didn’t get very far before I felt Sam’s arm wrap around my waist, “C’mon…” As much as I wanted to fight him on it, I knew I wouldn’t make it more than a few steps before I was bent over again in pain. The adrenaline had worn off and my whole body was starting to ache deeply in a way that made even breathing hurt where it shouldn’t. I dropped my head in frustration and nodded, putting my arm around Sam’s shoulder to let him brace me. He helped me limp back to the car where Bucky gently handled my other side, the two of them lifted me into the vehicle where Walker and his friend tried to help me sit down. I shrugged off their unwelcome hands and used the roof’s poles to lower myself into a seat. Sam jumped in and sat on one side of me, gently lifting the leg that was really bothering me onto his lap to try and massaging my shin. Bucky climbed in on my other side and gave me a once over, trying to assess if I was in any further pain that I wasn’t letting on to.

“Okay,” Walker began as the car rocked to life again, “So we’ve got eight Super Soldiers on a bulk supply run. Why?” “They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during The Blip,” Sam explained, “Maybe they’re just trying to help.” “They had a funny way of showing it,” Bucky commented.

“That serum doesn’t exactly have a great track record,” Walker quickly looked to Bucky, “No offense.” I tried not to judge people too harshly upon first meeting them, but I had no problem deciding right away that Walker was an asshole.

“We need to figure out where they’re going,” Sam spoke up before an argument could break out, “How’d you track ‘em here? The Flag Smashers?”

“Uh, no, we didn’t track them. We tracked you, uh, through Redwing,” Walker’s friend answered, dipping his head down to avoid Sam’s stony gaze.

“You hacked my tech?” “Sorry,” Walker laughed, “It’s not exactly hacking. It’s government property,” he gestured to himself, “Kind of the government.” My lips parted and I tilted my head, ”Are you kidding me?”

“I’m sorry,” Walker extended his hand out to me, “John Walker, Captain America. And you are?” I glanced between his hand and him, “Not impressed.” He awkwardly retracted it and turned away from me to Bucky, “Does he always just stare like that?” “You get used to it,” Sam replied, suddenly he had no problem with Bucky’s habit.

“Okay, look,” Walker cleared his throat, “You know things have gotten kind of, uh…” “Chaotic,” his friend finished for him.

“Yeah. The GRC, they’re doing the best they can to get things up and running smoothly, post Blip.” “Reactivating citizenship, social security, healthcare. Basically just managing resources for the refugees who were displaced by the return.”

“The Global Repatriation Council does all that, I get that,” Sam said impatiently, “So why exactly are you two here?”

“Well, they provide the resources and we keep things stable,” the soldier answered.

“Yeah, violent revolutionaries aren’t usually good for anyone’s cause,” Walker said. “Usually said by the people with the resources,” Sam looked up from the work he was doing on my leg to look dead at Walker.

“We got a lot of resources,” he stated confidantly, “If you guys, if you joined up with us, we could-“ “No,” Bucky and I said in unison, now having agreed on two things. Walker was a phony and wizards weren’t real.

“I got mad respect for both of ya’ll,” Walker’s friend complimented, “You too, ma’am. But you were kinda getting your asses kicked till we showed up.” Bucky finally dragged his stare off of Walker, “Who are you?” “Lemar Hoskins.” “Look, I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter in tactical gear, I need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins,” Sam commented.

“I’m Battlestar,” Lemar reintroduced himself, “John’s partner.” “‘Battlestar?’” Bucky echoed the ridiculous nickname, snapping his head suddenly toward the driver, “Stop the car!”

The driver obeyed and quickly halted in the middle of the road, giving Bucky the opportunity to jump out of the car. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for me to join him but I wasn’t about to leave Sam’s side. I held a hand up to him to which he responded by closing the back door and starting down the path that veered off the main road.

“Look, I…I get it, okay? I get the attitude, I do,” Walker started, he couldn’t come close to understanding how insulted all three of us were for one uniting reason, “You don’t think that the shield was gonna end up here. I get it, Bucky,” even the call of his name wasn’t enough to make him stop, “And I’m…I’m not trying to be Steve. I’m not trying to replace Steve.” “Could’ve fooled me,” I snorted, removing my leg from Sam’s lap as he’d stopped rubbing it long ago. “I’m just trying to be the best Captain America I can be, that’s it,” Walker focused his eyes on my brother, “It’d be a whole lot easier if I had Cap’s wingmen on my side.” Sam scoffed and looked out of the corner of his eyes at me as if to make sure he hadn’t heard incorrectly. He hadn’t, and I was about two seconds away from putting my powers to good use and beating Walker with his own shield that he could never truly hold ownership of. “It’s always that last line…”

Sam climbed over me and hopped out first before helping to lower me to the ground. A defeated Walker ordered the driver to leave and we watched to make sure they actually left for good. “Torres said he’s nice?” I asked sarcastically as we resumed our familiar posture of Sam helping me walk. “Torres is young, impressionable and follows every order he’s given. Guys like Walker have a problem with anyone who doesn’t take their every word as gospel.”

“Well, your mom made us attend enough church when we were kids for me to know that right there,” I pointed back to the car that was now a dot in the distance, “Is a false prophet.”

I trained my eyes ahead of us, Bucky hadn’t gotten too far and it looked like he had actually slowed his pace for us to catch up easier. While I was angry with the government for appointing Walker and the man himself, I knew that the pain Sam and Bucky were feeling was exponentially heavier to deal with. They’d already lost their friend and Walker was the salt being rubbed in the wound.

When we did eventually make it to the plane an hour later, I was biting back tears at how much pain I was in. Sam took notice of how I was trying to conceal them as we approached the tarmac and carried me the rest of the way.

“I gotta check for any internal bleeding,” he said as he set me down gently on the seats of the jet, “And you’re going home.” “No, I’m not,” I moaned. “Yes, you are,” he scolded as he lifted up my shirt to the bottom of my bra so that he could get a clear view of my abdomen, “Sarah’s gonna pound my ass into the ground as it is for bringing you back bruised.” My eyes could no longer stay opened, further fluttering shut as I didn’t hear Sam state that he saw anything concerning. “Get some sleep,” he ordered, “I’ll take care of anything I find.” Just before I drifted off, I heard a second body kneel down next to Sam. “She okay?” “Yeah, she’ll be fine,” he answered Bucky, “I just should have never brought her.”

————

When I did wake up, the plane was dark except for the minimal lighting towards the cockpit. I attempted to sit up, biting back a groan as I did. There was a blanket draped over my bottom half and my jacket was now folded underneath my head as a makeshift pillow. Sam was sleeping upright near my feet, arms crossed and snoring quietly.

“Glad to see you’re okay,” a quiet voice startled me, I turned to see it was Bucky. “A little out of my depth,” I remarked, rubbing one of my eyes, “But yeah, okay.”

Bucky nodded and looked back down at his folded hands, for some reason the contrast of the gold and black metal meeting the pale flesh fascinated me. He must’ve sensed I was staring because he peered up at me through his lashes. I quickly looked away, “I’m guessing we’re on our way back to New Orleans.” “Baltimore, actually,” he replied.

“What’s in Baltimore?” I whispered, trying not to wake Sam. “Someone that Sam needs to meet.” “Okay,” I slowly swung my legs off the seats to properly face him, “Who’s in Baltimore?” Bucky gave me a tired look, “Just someone, you’ll meet him too.” I bristled slightly at his answer, shooting him a half smile. “You don’t trust people, do you, Barnes?”

I wouldn’t call what his lips did was a smile, but maybe a sarcastic knock off of one. “You ask a lot of questions, you know?”

“Only when people don’t give me any answers,” I fired back in a contradictorily easy tone, “Look, you don’t have to trust me. That’s fine, I’m going home after whatever surprise you have for us anyway so you won’t have to deal with me slowing you guys down anymore.” “Sam was endangering you by bringing a civilian to an Avengers level fight,” he quickly said, “That’s on him, not you. And none of us were exactly at our best today.” A supercut of the three of us each getting slapped around silly on top of the trucks played in my mind. He was definitely right, nobody could have predicted that we’d be thrown for such a loop. Not even the man pretending to be Captain America. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about Walker,” I offered as softly as I could, “I’ve watched him parade that shield around on tv for days and I’ve gotten angrier each time. Not saying it’s the same as what you’re feeling but…I’m just sorry.” Bucky didn’t respond, he actually looked away from me and back down at his hands. “You should get some more sleep, we’re still a ways out.” It was clear I wasn’t going to get anywhere with him, not that I felt any burning desire to try to get him to open up. I’d only tried out of politeness and the slight glimmer of curiosity I held when it came to what lay beneath his hardened surface. “Goodnight, Barnes,” I said, laying back down and rolling over so I didn’t have to look at him any longer.

----

A/N: Let me know what you thought and/or if you’d like to be tagged! There’s still a lot of surprises that are coming...

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale @wanniiieeee @asoftie4bucky @edencherries @i-reblog-fics-i-like @ttalisa @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess @rinaispunk @weirdowithnobeardo @felicityofbakerstreet @godlypotterwhodiaries @eternalharry @voguesir @mizz-kraziii @okayline @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories @nicklet94 @intricate-melody @aesthethickks @stumbleonmywords @simplybarnes @21bruhs @lostinwonderland314 @superbookishhufflepuff @themaddies-obx

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x platonic!reader #marvel imagine

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quirkisms · 3 years

Text

OFF YOUR CHEST - M. TOGATA (i)

pairing: mirio togata x fem!reader

summary: Mirio tears himself apart, and you're there to heal the pieces.

word count: 2k

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, strangers(ish) to lovers, AU where UA is college, not highschool (i dont want 2 write about minors), mirio is quirkless and is Dealing With It, slow burn, trauma and anxiety coping

ao3

He splits another knuckle open.

It’s no different than any other exercise or training, but he’s different. He’s stronger now, and smarter but he’s still less. He punches the wall again, willing it to go through. For a second, he thinks he can feel the soft tendrils of the void past the surface beckoning him, urging him forth. It’s asking him where he’s been, that it missed him and that he’s back. For that second, it’s real. His hand is sinking through and he’s back.

But the rough texture of the wall sinks into the cuts he’s ripped into his skin and he’s pulling back, sucking in air through his teeth and withholding curses.

He cradles his right hand with his left, blood trailing down the grooves of the taught tendons on both battered hands.

Mirio’s chest is heaving, his breaths varying from deep to shallow, his heart rate erratic. The buzz in his pocket disrupts his stare at the red stains his punches had left.

TAMAKI

where r u

It hurts to curl his hand around the device, but he does anyway. He wipes the other hand on his pants before responding.

Training! What’s up?

TAMAKI

patrolling tn. just wanted to lyk

Okay - Stay safe! 😀

Mirio pockets his phone. He wants to manually rub the grime out of the cuts or even just leave them the way they are. The sting is a juxtaposition from how his life was before. No longer can he float in the nothingness, phase through infinity until he needs to come up for air.

He feels everything now.

He makes his way towards UA’s medical clinic. It’s late, past dinner at least, which means it’ll be empty save for one person. Recovery Girl doesn’t work the hours like she used to, not since you came in. The clinic after hours feels safe, secretive and his. You’re always there late, as far as Mirio knows. Since the first time he injured himself by pushing himself past his newfound limits (which were significantly less than what they used to be) you’d always been there when he’d sneak in.

Tonight, you were hunched over textbooks, highlighter dangling out of your mouth. If he could’ve, he would’ve lingered in the doorway to watch you. Instead, the few droplets of blood spilling from his hands alerted you of his presence. You peek over your shoulder at him before capping the marker and nodding for him to sit on one of the empty exam beds. It was routine.

“You outdid yourself this time,” You said as you cleaned the open wounds. He’d beaten the flesh raw, almost exposing bone and you wanted to scold him but you knew it was useless. He’d just brush you off with a shrug, a smile and tell you it’s not that big of a deal. Pain is part of getting stronger.

Mirio doesn’t respond. Instead, he chooses to let his eyes flick around the room. Recovery Girl’s absence is notable - no more jar of candy, and you’ve taken over her desk and littered it with your own knicknacks. Your textbooks, an All Might water bottle, a Kamui Woods pez dispenser. It’s cute, he thinks.

“Did you have a punching match with one of those hardening quirks?” You’re frowning as you pop a piece of jerky in your mouth. “Maybe Cementoss?”

“Cementoss,” he confirms, only because that would be the only way he’d have so much...particulate within the splits. Cementoss was made of rock, and Mirio would rather die than admit to you he was relentlessly punching a wall.

You snort, shaking your head as you chew. You both know he’s full of it, but you drop it. You always do.

A soft, blue glow escapes from underneath your hand. His hand feels fuzzy, like it's fallen asleep before it dissipates and you remove your hand, motioning for him to lift his other so you can begin the same process.

As you clean the other hand, Mirio watches you work. You ignore the weight of his gaze the best you can, focusing on repairing the skin and not how strong and smooth his fingers are. His hand is heavy in yours, and the glow of your quirk flickers as you lose focus imaging what his grip would feel like on you.

“Done,” you said, flicking your used gloves into the wastebasket by your feet. Mirio flexes his fingers. Healed. “Y’know, after all these visits,” You raise an eyebrow, “I think you owe me.”

Mirio looks up from his hands to tilt his head at you.

“Tell me how you really get these injuries,” you grab one of his hands loosely and run your thumb over the freshly regenerated skin.

He wasn’t expecting that.

Mirio gapes at you like a fish out of water, like you’re Thirteen and you’ve sucked all of the air out of the room. He pulls himself from your grip to rest his hands in his lap. He’s uncomfortable, uneasy now. He’s liked this place, liked you because questions weren’t asked that he had to give real answers to. It’s not betrayal that Mirio feels, it’s more like loss. It’s the loss that comes with the realization that you can’t outrun everything you want forever. With all the training, all the work Mirio had put in, he thought he could.

“They’re self-inflicted. The bruising, the wound placements. It’s like you’re training yourself to death.”

“It’s not like that - I’m fine, I promise!” Mirio throws his hands up in a defensive motion. He’s summoning the sunlight, the optimism and charm that swooned UA and motivated him to keep working, keep training, to save a million people. He can feel it churning in his chest, but it’s been pressed so deep he’s grasping at the edges and they don’t want to meet his fingertips.

Mirio knew you never believed his excuses - you knew he knew that and you’d been pulled thin between wanting to show concern and ask what was up and respecting his privacy. But at the previous state of his knuckles, you couldn’t drag your feet any longer.

You watch him, face soft and stoic. You’re not coddling, but you’re not cold either. He realizes that you’re just simply waiting.

“I just train too hard,” he gives in, just a little. You raise your eyebrows a fraction and he continues. “I have a lot to make up for, so I tend to overdo it!” He laughs it off - the injuries are a joke, truly. They’re funny to him.

“You get more banged up than Midoriya,” you look at him over the clear frame of the glasses you seem to only wear at the clinic. “How does your training get you more banged up than the other heroes?”

“I’m not a hero,” he’s quick to say, and it stings more than it should. He was, should’ve been, should be.

Your face is soft again, and it’s an art you’ve mastered over time. You’re good at composing your features to appear passive and static. In your many hero encounters, pity is the quickest way to lose trust. So you watch Mirio, with his soft smile and now long hair tied back at the nape of his neck. He’s analyzing you just as you are him, and you keep your eyes from flicking to his knuckles when you respond with, “Okay.”

His stomach is churning, still sour with his words but he rubs his hands on his thighs. Why are they so sweaty?

In his distracted state, Mirio doesn’t notice you scribbling down something on a notecard shaped like an anatomical heart. You hand it to him, knocking him out of his trance.

Seven digits, followed by the letters 3G, and four more digits.

“What’s this?” he asks. Obviously the first line is your number, but you lost him with the rest.

“My number,” you aren’t looking at him. Instead you choose to refold the sleeves of your white coat as you continue, “and the passcode to get into my dorm building.”

Mirio does white. The passcode? Why would he need that?”

“I can’t be staying here late every night in case you show up.” You hated trudging back to your dorm on the nights he didn’t show, both eyelids and textbooks weighing you down. “Just stop by my dorm if it’s late like this.”

Mirio opens his mouth but you cut him off.

“Floor 5F, my name is on the door.”

He closes his mouth and smiles, nodding and bowing in thanks. He doesn’t trust his voice, not right now. You’re packing up your textbooks as he exits the clinic.

It doesn’t hit him until he gets back to the 3A dorms that he doesn’t know your name.

He beats himself up about it the whole night. He wishes he could go into Tamaki’s room to distract himself, to ask him about the person who’s basically taken over Recovery Girl’s mantle. Tamaki frequented the clinic as well - used it as an excuse to get out of the heroics lessons and sleep. He’d definitely know your name, unlike his golden counterpart who visited her frequently and never thought to ask.

Mirio tried to comfort himself by thinking that maybe you didn’t know his name either. You’d never asked. But then again, Mirio is (was?) part of UA’s Big Three. The aftermath of the Shie Hassaikai was all anyone talked about for weeks. You’d definitely have to know who he was. Mirio Togata, the kid who lost his quirk. Le Million, the hero who gave and lost everything. You went to UA yourself - there was no way.

He didn’t want to be that sob story to you. But he was constantly coming to you with injuries - split knuckles, a dislocated shoulder, a torn achilles. Maybe he wasn’t exactly that sob story, but he knew you pitied him regardless. Maybe that’s why you always stayed so late - you felt bad for him.

The thoughts makes Mirio uncomfortable.

And so much so that to make himself feel better, he adds your number to his phone. Typing in the numbers, he thinks about how he likes that your handwriting was shitty. Another little thing you let him see, let him learn about you. In lieu of a name, he makes your contact name the stethoscope emoji. He laughs to himself when he saves the contact and types out a message:

How late is too late?

He hesitates, but hits send. It delivers, and after fifteen minutes, Mirio is worried he confused one of your twos for a seven or vice versa. Or, maybe he should’ve introduced himself instead of just sending you a basic question that revealed his identity in no way whatsoever. In the eighteenth minute, you buzz back a response.

🩺

Why?

Might break a bone tomorrow.

It only takes eleven minutes for you to respond this time, and Mirio hates that he’s counting.

🩺

I’ll be sure to eat breakfast then.

No later than midnight, tho.

Okay!

Seven minutes this time. He wasn’t expecting a response.

🩺

You don’t need an injury to stop by, you know.

Mirio grins. A real one.

If you insist. Still might have a scratch or two, though. 😀

Two minutes. Mirio is oblivious to the fact that you are cringing hard at his emoji usage.

🩺

don’t be taking advantage of my quirk :(

You’re right… promise you will be compensated for your time. 👍

It’s immediate.

If it’s not edible, I don’t want it.

Mirio decides he might take it a little easy when he trains tomorrow.

130 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 4 years

Text

Protective Detail (2/?)

Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Warnings: language, mentions of bruising

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Y’all I’ve gotten really into writing this fic. I know for chapter one I said semi-slow burn but upon further consideration I’m upgrading this to just straight-up slow burn. I’m not sorry. Enjoy some Nestor banter xo

Chapter Index

Protective Detail Taglist: @masterlistforimagines @sillygoose6969 @mydaiilyescape @lovebennycolon (As always if you wanna be updated on future chapters of this, or notified about any of my other writing, let me know!)

(Threw together my own little fic header because why not?)

You woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee. You smiled to yourself as you sat up and stretched in your bed, taking a few moments to collect yourself before you left your room to see what Nestor had gotten into. You padded down the hall and peeked into the kitchen to see a full pot of coffee sitting on the counter. You smiled as you walked over and poured yourself a cup before scooping an unhealthy amount of sugar and pouring creamer into it.

You heard Nestor from the living room, “You gonna have any coffee with all that cream and sugar?”

You looked over to him with a small smile, “I only drink it for the caffeine. Let me guess, you don’t put anything in yours.”

“That’s right,” he lifted his mug slightly.

You rolled your eyes, “You one of those guys who tries to protect the integrity of the coffee?”

He smirked, shaking his head, “No, I just hate creamer,” there was a pause before he asked, “So what’re you doing today?”

“Nothing until this afternoon. I work at the bar today,” you saw surprise cross his face for a brief moment and you laughed, “Some of us have to have regular day jobs, Nestor.”

He shook his head, “I know your father, I believe there is very little you have to do.”

“I have to have a personal security detail,” you shot back before taking another sip of your coffee.

He chuckled, “Well. That’s an upgrade from calling me your babysitter.”

“Well, I guess I should have asked first, am I still allowed to go to work?” you asked, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

He sighed, “I told you, I don’t make the rules. Your father didn’t say that you can’t. So, yes, until further notice.”

“How kind of him,” you shook your head slightly. You looked over at Nestor, wondering how he had the energy so early in the morning to put himself together so nicely, “You might as well sleep in your dress clothes.”

He shook his head, fighting back a smile, “No, they’d get wrinkled.”

For most of the morning, Nestor stayed quietly out of your way. He was on his laptop for a little while, and you were trying not to stare as you milled about your house cleaning and getting ready for work. Every now and then you could catch him glancing at you as you strolled around and you tried to ignore it.

Once it was time to leave, you snatched your keys off of the table and looked over at Nestor, who was pulling on his jacket. He looked at you, saw the keys dangling from your fingers, and let out a small sigh. He didn’t say anything as he headed towards the front door, holding it open for you.

“If you’re really that petrified after this drive, I won’t make you suffer through it anymore,” you laughed as you walked out the front door.

When the two of you pulled into the parking lot of the bar, Nestor wordlessly held out his hand for you to give him the keys. You laughed, shaking your head, “I was not that bad. Don’t be such a baby,” you opened your door, keeping the keys to yourself, “How am I supposed to trust you to protect me if you can’t even handle a little speeding?”

He didn’t say anything, just shook his head as he also got out of the car. You locked it and started walking towards the entrance, Nestor close behind you. Before you got to the door, though, you stopped and turned to him, “So, are you just going to lurk around for my entire shift?”

“I have to stay with you.”

You huffed, “That’s going to look so creepy though.”

He simply shrugged and gestured for you to walk inside. With a heavy sigh you complied. You walked to the back to get ready for your shift, leaving Nestor to his own devices. He took a seat at the bar and looked around, trying to get a decent grasp on his surroundings. He wasn’t quite sure what kind of bar you worked at, but he wasn’t expecting what he had walked into. It wasn’t a rough bar by any means, but it also wasn’t as upscale as he was probably used to after working with the Galindo family for so long. You were interested to see how he handled everything.

You came back out and set a glass of beer in front of him. He looked at you, confused, and you rolled your eyes with a small smile, “It’ll look less creepy if you’re sitting there and at least pretending that you’re here to drink.”

He didn’t say anything, just gave you a slight nod as he slid the glass closer to himself and taking a small sip out of it. You chuckled to yourself and shook your head as you walked away. The afternoon was starting off slow, as it usually did. That was fine by you, but it definitely made Nestor’s permanent presence a little more noticeable.

A couple hours into your shift, the owner of the bar pulled you into the back to talk to you, slight concern showing on her face, “You know that guy at the bar?”

You nodded, not sure how you were going to navigate the conversation, “Yea, he’s with me.”

“Do I get to know why he’s camping out in my bar?”

You sighed—the only upside being that your boss knew your father. She didn’t know a whole lot, but she knew enough to know that he was a powerful ally to have. “Family stuff,” you finally said, “My dad wants him around to keep me outta trouble.”

“Should I be worried?” she looked at the bruise on your cheek.

You shook your head, “No, I’m good. He’s overreacting. And to be fair, I told Nestor people were going to think he’s a creep if he just sits there all night,” you chuckled.

You saw some of the tension disappear from your boss’s face as she let out a laugh, “Least you tried to warn him,” she nudged your shoulder, “He’s cute. There are worse faces to get stuck looking at all the time, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, “He was hired to protect me, I’m not going to spend all of my time gawking at him.”

“Sure, he’s there to protect you, but who will protect you from falling in love with him?” she batted her eyelashes dramatically with a laugh, “You’re basically the star in a really niche romance movie.”

“Alright, I’m done with this conversation,” you laughed, but you could feel your face started to heat up, “Can I go back to doing my job?”

She smiled, “Sure. But if he starts scaring away customers, you’ll have to tell him to go and sit in the car or something.”

You raised one eyebrow, “You can be the one to have that conversation with him.”

“You think I won’t?”

You laughed, shaking your head, “I know you will, and I need to be there to see it when it happens.”

She gave you a gentle nudge back out onto the main floor of the bar and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at the mental image that you were conjuring up in your head of how it would look to see her get in Nestor’s face. Jade wasn’t a large woman, in fact she was a little shorter than you, but she carried herself with the confidence of a woman who had spent most of her adult life making sure drunk and belligerent men didn’t too out of hand. There weren’t many situations that scared her. She was older than you, but no one would’ve been able to tell at first glance—not letting little shit stress her out had definitely slowed her aging process. Between that and her long, wavy hair that cascaded down her back, she was the picture of youth. You had always admired the way that she carried herself, and you were almost hoping that she was going to have the opportunity to tell Nestor to hit the bricks.

As the night got busier, it was easier for Nestor to blend in. He mixed in well with the after-work crowd—it was a lot of men and women in their business attire. The later the night got, the more you could see him start to get antsy. A couple times you had walked over to him to tell him that he could wait outside if he was sick of being there, but he would just shake his head and wave you off. A couple times you reminded him that a little bit of a smile would go a long way in toning down the scary and creepy vibes he was giving off. He’d force one for you for a few moments before he went back to his usual passive expression, and you’d laugh every time the fake grin would fall from his face.

Jade had also gotten less annoyed with his presence as the night went on. You were fairly convinced it was only because she thought that he was attractive, not that you could blame her. You were still holding onto the hope that one of these nights she would tell him to get out. The amusement of that mental image made you smile every time it crossed your mind.

Once everyone had left except for Nestor, Jade told you both to head home. You reassured her that you could stay and help clean up, not wanting to leave her to close all by herself. She waved you off, reassuring you that her husband was already on his way to pick her up and she was definitely going to rope him into helping.

“I’ll help at least until he gets here,” you told her, not feeling comfortable leaving her alone.

“I’m letting you go early for your friend, not so much for you,” she laughed.

You smiled, shaking your head, “Listen, the man is being paid to spend time with me. He’s got it made—he can keep his spot at the bar for a little while longer.”

It only took her husband about twenty minutes to get there, and once he walked in, she all but pushed both you and Nestor out the door, “Bring a book, or sudoku or something next time,” she called after him. He didn’t say anything but he did smile and wave goodnight to her.

The two of you reached the car and Nestor looked at you, trying to figure out if you were going to let him drive home. You shook your head slightly before unlocking the doors and sliding into the driver’s seat. You could see it on his face that he wanted to argue with you, but he kept his thoughts to himself as he dropped into the passenger seat beside you.

“We can take turns,” you said as you reversed out of your parking spot.

“Hm?”

You smiled as you pulled out onto the road, “Driving. I’ll drive my car and you can drive yours. We can take turns.”

He didn’t say anything as he rested his head back against the seat, keeping his eyes on the road. You had to assume, though, that the fact that he didn’t argue with you meant that he was fine with the new plan. At least it meant that he’d be able to drive some of the time.

“So,” you started as you unlocked the front door of your house, “How long do I have to go without an attempt on my life before you can be released back into Galindo Land?”

He chuckled as he walked in before you, wanting to check the house first, “It’s only been two days. My company really that bad?”

You hung by the door, allowing him to do his search, “Let’s be real, Nestor, this isn’t what either of us would really call company.”

He returned to the doorway and gestured for you to walk inside, satisfied with the safety level of your home. You walked over to the kitchen and opened the freezer, contemplating which pint of ice cream you were going to dig into. You grabbed a spoon and popped the top off your container of rocky road.

“Oh, that reminds me,” you pointed your spoon at him, “you don’t need to be doing chores around here, you know,” you gestured to the clean dishes.

He shrugged, “I was up…no point in not doing them.”

“I appreciate it, but still. You don’t have to,” you tilted the ice cream towards him, “Want a bite?”

He laughed and shook his head as he sat down on the couch, “I’m alright, thank you.”

You shrugged as you plopped down next to him, “Suit yourself.”

You could feel him staring at you, wondering why you felt the need to sit right next to him. You purposely ignored him as you scrolled, trying to find a TV show you felt like watching. He sighed, leaning away from you slightly and onto the arm rest of the couch. You smiled to yourself, spoon sticking out of your mouth.

It was starting to get late when he looked over at you and asked, “Mind if I use your shower?”

For a moment you thought about making a smart remark about forcing him to live with you and not granting him access to the shower, but instead you settled on, “Had you pegged as more of a bubble bath guy,” you made yourself laugh, “But yea sure, go for it. Just don’t use the shampoo in the blue bottle, that’s just mine.”

He stood up and made his way down the hall, “I’ll be sure to avoid that.”

You peaked over the top of the couch and watched him disappear into the guest room, only to walk back out a few moments later with a change of clothes and a towel draped over his arm. He saw you looking at him and gave you a look that asked why you were staring.

“Water gets super hot super fast, so be careful,” you said without bothering to look away.

“Got it,” he slowly walked into the bathroom, waiting for you to look away but it didn’t happen. Once the door shut behind him you let out a laugh and returned your attention to the television.

When he came back out into the living room, he was back in the same set of clothes that you had seen him in the previous night. Maybe it was because you were so used to seeing him in dress shirts and slacks, but you definitely preferred the more comfortable aesthetic on Nestor. You bit back a laugh as he made a point to sit in the recliner instead of on the couch where he could get smothered by you again. He took his laptop out of his bag and began working on something, not that you would ever be able to figure out what.

“Can I ask you something?”

He didn’t look up from his laptop, “You can ask. Won’t promise I’ll answer.”

You smiled to yourself, “So do you, like, live with Miguel and Emily when you’re not being loaned out to me?”

He looked over at you, shaking his head slightly, “No. I only stay there if things are getting tense and he thinks he needs to have the extra support around the clock.”

You nod, “So you have your own place?”

He paused, searching your face for a moment before giving a simple, “Yes,” and going back to whatever he had been typing.

“Like a house? Or an apartment?”

He didn’t meet your gaze, instead keeping his eyes trained on his computer screen, “Why does that matter?”

You shrug despite the fact that he’s not looking at you, “I’m just nosey. Indulge me!” you laugh.

He shook his head but you can see it in his eyes that he’s trying not to smile, “That’s not information you need to know.”

“Oh come on,” you flopped onto the other end of the couch so you were closer to the chair that he was sitting in, “You get to know everything about my life. I can’t even know if you live in a house?”

He finally looked up at you, “I know everything about you because I have to. What need could you have for knowing that about me?”

“I’ll add it to my pile of Nestor Notes. It’ll go right on top of won’t listen to music in the car and doesn’t like not being the driver.”

He shook his head and went back to his work without another word. You sat there looking at him for a few moments before finally giving in and refocusing on your show. Every now and then you swore you could feel his eyes on you but you weren’t going to risk looking to see if you were right.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #my writing #protective detail #chapter 2 #multichapter #drabblesmc

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missinghan · 4 years

Text

to my youth ⤖ lee felix

❖ genre : summer au; high school au; fluff

❖ word count : 11,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language, slow burn

❖ summary : it is official that life hates you because not only was your first few days of summer ruined by a stupid field trip, but things also got somewhat freaky… whatever kind of ‘freaky’ you’re thinking about.

❖ note : i know i said i’m ‘experimenting’ with new stuff but guess who’s back with another mediocre, not-that-well-written mess of a domestic au; please (kindly) yell at me to dabble into a new genre after bearing through this fic- happy reading!

one.

The echoes of your summer days remain as flowers immune to the winter chill, they say.

You’re not entirely sure who even fathomed their time and effort to come up with that statement but from your point of view, those flowers would most likely have either died out from the summer heat or withered horrendously because of the arbitrary showers of rain. Or you’re the only one who doesn’t have the luxury to see life through a rose-colored lens.

Because the first thing that comes to mind for you is the bucket of ice-cream and a YouTube OG that you’ve ceased to finish since finals started two weeks ago. The bell rings, pens down, everyone pours out of the classroom after handing in their exam papers. No one really bothers to check up on each other’s answers anymore; the last subject for today was AP Psych and you don’t know about them but you honestly can’t care any less thereafter cramming the entirety of five chapters.

Sprinting down the staircase, you easily spot Felix amongst the midst of drowsy high school students for the bright color of his hair. He truly believes that if he slaps enough hair essence and coconut oil on his head four times a week, his hair won’t feel like straws when he changes it every other three weeks. But it’s only a matter of time before balding catches up to him, he’ll learn eventually.

“Please don’t tell me that you left your keys in class,” you sigh upon the sight of him fumbling with his folders and textbooks while trying to open his locker in vain. Just thinking about walking all the way back to the third floor makes you want to use your backpack as a pillow and take a nice nap in the middle of the hallway.

“Gee, Y/N,” Felix makes a face to not show the sense of relief washing over him when he locks eyes with you. “Who do you take me as? A clumsy person?”

“No, just a dumbass.” You coldly snatch a slipping book from his arms before turning to twist the disc in the combination of your birthday until the lock clicks, shaking the shackle off to swing his locker open. It’s a silent tradition that you both set each other’s birthday as your locker’s combination since elementary school; it started out as a stupid joke at first but neither of you really bothered to change it.

“Why the hell would you put your keys in the locker?” you widen your eyes in disbelief as he grabs the bright yellow Spongebob plushie to collect his keys with a shit-eating grin

“My alarm didn’t go off today, so I was running a little late,” he defends himself while dumping everything out of his backpack, hugging an empty water bottle to his side.

You throw a wave at a very tired Hyunjin walking side by side with Seungmin on his right and Jisung skipping happily towards your direction. Seungmin looks exceptionally moody today, you pray he didn’t mess up an easy question to take it out on all of you later in the car. “Bet you were staying up late to play Overwatch with Chan.”

Felix manages to grin stiffly at your comment, turning on his heels and trudges onto the school’s parking lot. “Fine, walk home.”

“Hey, you forgot to lock this!” you pull his steps into a halt by making a grab for his hand, utterly oblivious at how his cheeks flare up with a bright shade of red at your touch. Or out of embarrassment. Whatever, same thing.

Felix might be a better driver than you, but he’d be fired ten seconds into the job of a babysitter.

With that being said, when Jeongin decides it’s a good idea to cheer a passive-aggressive, post-exams Seungmin up with a carton of strawberry milk and then proceeds to get lost in his own school, the very same school he’s been attending for who knows how long, you’re the one who manually pulls his ass back into Mrs. Lee’s Jeep within ten minutes.

And Seungmin has already fallen asleep by the time Jeongin’s back, so now he’s the passive-aggressive one while sipping on the milk bitterly. Either way, this is why you headcount although there are only six of you after Changbin starts getting busy with his college applications.

“What took you so long?” Jisung looks up from his phone the moment you climb into the passenger’s seat, clicking in your seatbelt (drive safe, kids).

You immediately feel the need to snap a photo of Jeongin accidentally breaking the cafeteria’s door with the staff running towards him in a panic. They’re more scared for his life than the door itself and that’s… sweet to say the least but with the way that the embarrassed boy is glaring at you through the rear-view mirror, you decide to keep your lips sealed.

“It’s getting dark so all hallways start to look the same, you genius.”

Jisung momentarily sticks his tongue out at you. “God, you’re so rude to me. You’d never talk to Felix like that.”

“Because,” you drawl. “Lix is a pure-hearted angel descended from the realms of Heaven. Whereas, even Lucifer would see you as an eyesore in hell.”

“See! You’re doing it again!” Jisung points a finger at you in accusation, jumping up and down in his seat but no one really cares. It’s not like you’re speaking any false facts. “Stop bullying me!”

Seungmin shifts his body a little, nose scrunched up at the noises that wake him right up. “Jisung,” he warns his friend without opening his eyes. “Sit the fuck down, you have five seconds.”

Felix smirks when Jisung immediately cowers, slumping and leaning himself against Hyunjin in utter defeat. He learned not to mess with Seungmin after throwing a wallet at him on impulse. “Jealous much, Han?”

“Nah, she’s all yours bro,” Jisung waves it off tiredly; bickering and making fun of Felix’s gigantic crush on you is too much for his brain to process today. He can really use a long, solid twelve-hour summer hibernation after getting home.

The statement prompts Felix to look over at you when there’s a red light—the same exact moment as you stop staring at the bakery from across the road to lock eyes with him. There’s a little spark igniting at the pit of his stomach, stirring up butterflies inside his rib cage. But he snaps out of it after seeing you raise a brow at him, implying a silent ‘what?’ before turning away again. Felix has always been the type to stare so you don’t bother to think about it too much.

The problem is: he only stares at you that way.

A shade of coral creeps its way up to his cheeks, his gaze averting back on the roads when the light turns green. As Felix tries to calm the erratic tempo of his heartbeat, he also thinks about how much time he’d have left to confess before high school is over and everyone takes their own different paths. Then again, the future is far too blurry for him to make out anything and the thought of changes petrifies him a bit too much.

Felix wishes to hold your hand until the very end but he’s a little scared...because what if you never wanted to be with him in the first place?

two.

Your brother has one talent, and that’s his ability to irritate the living daylight out of you even when he’s practically on the other side of the planet.

Minho (un)fortunately finished his finals with flying colors, and inevitably, you’re the first victim to receive a series of texts that consisted of nothing but self-indulgent, excessive bragging. Basically, he’s allowed to do whatever slash go wherever for a good three weeks before his summer internship begins, dragging his dumb ass back to hell—where he rightfully belongs.

He’s probably chomping on a terribly unhealthy amount of pizza, pretzels, and any type of New York street food that you can name from the top of your head. It’s not like he’s paying for them anyway since Chan doesn’t allow people to touch their wallets if they happen to eat out with him.

Your phone vibrates obnoxiously on your desk, the judder slightly muffled because it’s lying on top of your wide-open psych textbook. You haven’t bothered with cleaning up yet; finals only ended yesterday and you decide that you won’t touch anything until the disarray starts to scrape against your nerves.

Side note: you’ve specifically told everyone not to call you three consecutive days after finals because yes, you’re that much of a loner, and yes, your stamina level for tolerating human interaction is awfully low.

Second side note: no one ever listens.

“Good morning, this is Lee Minho’s personal bullshit pail,” you mumble after your thumb swipes against the screen to pick up, your limbs curled up on the floor. “How can I possibly help you today?” Your morning voice isn’t necessarily threatening but rather scary; according to what Minho claimed, it sounds identical to that creepy girl from The Grudge so he groans aloud, his voice suddenly going out of focus on the other line from pulling his phone away.

“Jesus Christ are you still in your hermit phase after finals?” he questions callously, sounding not at all pleased with the way you greeted him. “Where’s mom and dad? Usually, they would have slammed your ass by now for staying inside like a vampire.”

“Don’t be insufferable, it’s only like…” you trail off while bending forward to take a good look at the little Sumiko Gurashi alarm on your bookshelf that Felix gave you during middle school. “Nine thirty-something and they’re at the park to exercise, duh- why do you care?”

Your brother almost sings on the phone, “Because you’re my little baby sister-” And this prompts you to pull the device away for the sake of your poor ear. It doesn’t help when you’re already surrounded by a group full of obnoxiously loud individuals on a daily basis. Not trying to call anyone out but Han Jisung is at the top of the list, his name in bold, capital letters being circled and underlined multiple times with a red marker.

“Who do I gotta kill to sleep in on a dreadful Sunday morning as any normal, cranky, antisocial high school student would?” you deadpan and rub the bridge of your nose dreadfully.

“I don’t know, go murder Jisung or something.” Honestly, that’s tempting… but no.

You can physically see the smug smile on his face right now, simpering in delight at your imminent misery. He knows goddamn well about your relationship with sleeping schedules and that’s the perfect excuse for him to ruin those little specks of time when your brain cells are getting an actual break.

These are also the times when you wish phones don’t fucking exist.

“By the way, are you gonna go on the field trip tomorrow?”

This question wakes you up almost completely because your eyes are now wide as a fish’s out of water, your hand automatically putting him on speaker before digging through the folders inside your backpack. What field trip? No one said anything about a field trip. And who thought it’s a good idea to force some worn-out, post-exams, sleep-deprived students into a field trip right after finals?

Minho hums coyly when the only response he’s getting is the rustling sound from your backpack, “Hmm, see what I meant there, little sis? Oh, the downside of living under a rock at its finest.” He doesn’t have to be here for you to fully picture the way that his lips curl up, dark brows wiggling whenever he’s right about something. Your brother wins most of the time against other people but overtaking you is an entirely different story.

“Oh screw off and go buy yourself a sense of humor.”

“Don’t be so mopey, isn’t Felix gonna be there?”

“What does Felix have to do with this?” you grit after managing to pull out a piece of paper from the very back, buried under countless of your essays. And it reads ‘field trip’ in caps at the top with tomorrow’s date right beneath. The trip lasts for three days, you’re going camping with the grizzly bears for three days—a total nightmare, basically.

“Pfft, you’re actually dense for someone with a sparkly report card,” he sneers. “That kid has been crushing on you since elementary school. Are the signals that fucked up?”

“You mean when I accidentally spilled orange juice over his head? Sure, bet that’s why he’s so head over heels for me,” you snicker, unfazed by these kinds of statements. Minho only knows Felix because he was the president of your school's dance club and you fully believe that your brother is simply trying to mess with your malfunctioning, cranky mindset.

“I fucking beg to differ, he always stares at you like you’re the love of his life, even when you stupidly poked yourself with a needle,” Minho announces as if he’s a love expert, tsk, amateur. “He might just confess during the trip, who knows? Campfire flickering. Sharing the same s’mores. Surrounded by nature. That sounds romantically ideal to me for a confession.”

He’s visioning everything like a terrible cliché film where two high schoolers stubbornly deny their feelings for each other until they start noticing how cute the other person is while magically being forced to be alone together. The worst kind of high school movie—which is also almost every high school movie. And you best believe that you’d a hundred percent kick your brother’s ass off that director’s chair because people live and breathe for this kind of overused entertainment. Tragic.

“Alright, fuck this, I’m out-“

“Wait!” Minho exclaims out of nowhere, almost blowing up your eardrums. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

You swear you’re rolling your eyes so hard, they’re about to fall out of their respective sockets. “Well, obviously,” you put the piece of paper down with a sigh, contemplating ways to minimize the amount of socializing in the upcoming three days. “Haven’t you bothered me enough? No?”

“You can’t leave me like this,” he whines in an annoyingly high-pitched voice that sends chills down your spine.

“You need me, we’re connected.”

He sounds like a whack version of Minnie Mouse for a second there, the kind of plushie that looks cute but with disturbingly creepy voice audio; no parents would let their children go near that aisle.

You yawn as if there’s no tomorrow, stretching your limbs tiredly. “What I need is for you to shut the fuck up and leave me alone so I can go on my merry way to pick up snacks for this stupid field trip,” you utter lifelessly.

“You hurt my feelings,” Minho pretends to clutch onto his chest and lets out a dramatic gasp, his voice doused in pure sarcasm. “What a heartbreaker, Y/N.” Said the one who always keeps his apathetic front up like a fortress’ wall and tosses every single love letter on Valentine’s Day into the recycling bin, handing the chocolate out to his classmates like he’s giving leftover vegetables to his least favorite relatives.

“Oh, I can tell,” you reply with fake enthusiasm and mock empathy. “You know how I can tell?”

“Do not finish th-”

“Cause we’re connected.” With that you hang up, slamming your phone harshly onto the surface of your textbook.

three.

You might love your room a little too much, it’s getting somewhat unhealthy.

It was furnished with a rather meager budget after your family moved out of your hometown when you stepped into elementary school. Things stay the same, well, most of it as time passes by you unknowingly. Your sad bookcase used to exist for one sole purpose—carrying countless books and plushies has now been upgraded with too many polaroids of your dumb group of friends, a neatly framed photo of Class of 2020 and two trophies that don’t even belong to you since Minho ran out of space as he kept participating in random dance competitions.

The morning beams find their way through your white curtains and stain your walls with patches of yellow, eventually bugging your vision until you successfully convince yourself to either 1) wake up and get ready for school or 2) lazily stride across your room to shut the blinds completely so you can head back to bed. It’s summer… so option one is temporarily non-existent for a solid three months.

Hey, you’re just simply making up for those all-nighters with a new cup of coffee every two hours.

Speaking of your bed, it’s soft but takes up so much space to the point that Hyunjin keeps complaining about not having enough room for his legs when he’s sprawled across the floor with Jisung, vigorously focusing on a presentation’s outline. Seungmin calls you lame for not throwing away your childhood plushies and letting them hog at least one-third of your bed, but Felix doesn’t mind since he always needs something to hug. All the more reasons why you can only trust Felix.

You might miss having those idiots being loud and invading your personal space...maybe.

Your phone rings for the second time that morning when you’re walking downstairs, shoving your keys into your pocket and grabbing a protein bar on the counter. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now, Minho,” you bark into the device, chewing on your breakfast aggressively, not bothering to look at the caller’s ID.

The closest convenience store is only twenty minutes away from your house but there’s a sticky note on the fridge from your mom, reminding you that she needs eggs to bake cupcakes for her company’s twentieth anniversary while your dad is running low on his Red Bulls. Basically, you’re in distress. It’s not like your dad should be inhaling those sugary drinks on a daily basis and your mom can just buy premade goods from the bakery. But there are more options for snacks at the supermarket…

“Y/N, the fuck?” The response of a voice as deep as the Pacific ocean almost makes you choke on air. “Did I wake you up or something?” Felix sounds flabbergasted on the other line, slightly taken aback. You almost feel bad because he’s the only sweetheart in your chaotic squad (besides Chan, obvi) except when he stays up late gaming with Hyunjin, pleading for your notes the next morning with puppy eyes.

“No, Minho did,” you grumble before tossing the wrapping into a bin.

“You don’t say,” Felix replies flatly, but his voice soon grows merry again after pushing the topic of your brother aside. “Oh, and I’m coming over to return your earphones, wanna grab breakfast?”

He practically lives ten minutes away from you, sees you almost every day even if it’s the weekend since he can’t stay in the same house with his sisters for too long and puts you on FaceTime every night to prevent himself from slacking off on assignments. The only time he didn’t get to see you for a week straight was when he visited Australia and accidentally dropped his phone into the ocean. It was a rough week without you nagging him for doing something stupid. Fundamentally, he’s merely making up more excuses to spend time with you after finals.

Chuckling, “Only if you’re treating me, I’m about to go broke from buying snacks for our field trip tomorrow.” you say breezily.

And you’re only telling him that because he might just pay for your snacks as well since Felix Lee eats freshly grilled steak and mashed potato for breakfast. Baffling, absolutely. Plus, he works at a boba shop every summer either way and he would never hesitate to spend the entirety of his paycheck on any of his close friends. Irrelevant but the point is: you kinda don’t wanna go out alone today.

Or you’re just in the mood to go with Felix. That’s a useless statement since you both see each other at least ten out of twenty-four hours per day.

“By the way, you know what I just realized?” Felix smacks his palm on his forehead. “This is our last field trip, like ever.”

Walking over to the rack of shoes down the hallway, you let out a large exhale. “That’s unfortunate on your behalf. I, on the other hand, don’t have a problem with that,” you tell him with zero consideration, your brain cells too busy picking out a pair of shoes to process the five basic steps to empathize with another human being.

“No,” he emphasizes helplessly. “I meant, it’s like our last high school field trip. We’re graduating next year, no time to sleep with the grizzly bears again.”

You can only manage to utter, “Oh.” Shit, college is right around the corners.

“Jesus fucking Christ what the hell am I supposed to do after high school? Stay here? Go abroad? Wait, aren’t applications for going abroad supposed to be turned in a year beforehand? Why are you only telling me this now!?”

Felix laughs wholeheartedly through the phone, amused at your sudden outburst. “Y/N, calm down. You’re going to college, not prison,” he brushes it off casually but in a way, college is technically prison. Slaving over a degree while working part-time jobs, chasing time relentlessly like you’re driving in the middle of a foggy night with one headlight out. And you’re forced to open up with more strangers. It’s terrifying, actually terrifying. And you’re not the type to be easily terrified.

Now come to think about it, you don’t get why you were so pressed about it five seconds ago. It’s a good opportunity not to leech off your parents as much, like dabbling, taking one baby step at a time into adulthood. After that, you’ll graduate again, probably settle somewhere with an adequate job and find someone, starting to think about having ki-

Hold up, you’re going too far. You’re barely a senior.

“I guess we’ll just have to make the most out of this summer,” Felix’s voice snaps you back to the surface of Earth faster than a tick of a clock. “We’re outside, by the way. Open up.”

That fast? Furrowing your brows, you hang up to slip into a pair of sneakers before sprinting to the front door. Wait, your hand freezes as it grazes the doorknob. We?

Not again.

“Why the fuck..” you cracks a lifelessly crooked smile after pushing the door wide open. “..are you here?” It’s only ten in the morning, and you don’t think you should be screaming at the top of your lungs to be jumped on by the whole neighborhood.

Felix takes a step back, a little scared for his life. “Uhh, to return your earphones?”

“No, no,” you run a hand through your hair tiredly. Just when you thought this day was gonna be peaceful. “I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about them. Since when was this an agreement? How dare-“

“Why yes, I missed you too!” Jisung exclaims like the little shit he is, throwing an arm over your neck to ruffle your hair. No one ruffles your hair without getting their ass slammed- except for Minho. “Why the long face? Let me guess, until this exact second, you thought there’s a fucking squirrel, a lama, a dog, and a kitten standing at your front porch? No, it’s us, your Forever BFFs.” He’s one of the reasons why you refuse to understand the humans’ language sometimes.

With a harsh shove from you, Jisung staggers backward only for Hyunjin to prevent him from rolling like a ball in the middle of your neighborhood. “One more word and I’m telling the whole class who your crush is,” you threaten, earning an involuntary snort from Seungmin.

“I hate to admit this, but she might actually say yes if he makes the first move.”

Hyunjin supplies unconstructively, “That’s why he didn’t ask.”

“You know what, Hwang,” Felix says with a smirk tugging at his lips, bumping his fist against Hyunjin’s without turning his head.

“Oh screw all of you.” Jisung’s getting all the attention he wanted this early in the morning yet he still feels like a loser. Perhaps he should try shutting up once in a while.

four.

“Thanks for giving me a ride, uncle, you really didn’t have to,” Felix says generously from your dad’s back seats, scratching the nape of his neck as though this is the first time he’s ever shared a ride with you.

He’s too humble sometimes you just want to smack him across the face with a pillow to stop being so formal with your dad. Heck, Felix downright called him ‘dad’ by accident once during a Christmas dinner back in middle school and your dad even encouraged him to keep addressing him like that.

Not to mention, Felix is chomping on a turkey sandwich that your mom made this morning specifically for him after finding out that his parents are currently out of town and there's nothing but ramen in the cabinet. God forbids her to starve the same kid who helped your dad fix his bumper. So really, he should be expecting these things by now.

“Oh it’s not a big deal, you’re too nice,” your dad laughs as he pulls over to your school’s front gate, careful not to run into that one really tall, ugly tree. You’re lowkey paranoid that people might die if it collapses during a storm or something. “Perhaps you can return the favor by getting a drink with me sometimes.”

Felix blinks numerous times, slightly gobsmacked. “...but I’m not old enough to drink yet.”

“Correct answer.” And you snicker when your dad turns around to toss a wink at your friend’s direction. “Doesn’t mean that I’m forbidding you kids have fun,” he clarifies upon the baffled expression on Felix’s face. “But not too much fun, got it?”

“Okay, okay dad, I’ll see you in three days,” you shake your head before climbing out of the car. “Don’t starve the cats while I’m gone. Oh! And Soonie still needs his lactobacillus-“

Your dad brushes it off with a sheepish smile, “I’ll leave it to your mom, muffin, I can’t even remember which dry food is for which cat. I also don’t think they’ll be starving anytime soon, those little demons are getting quite fat actually since your brother spoils them all the time.” You can only give him a mere eye-roll because as much as he claims to hate having pets, there have been countless times when you caught your dad red-handed trying to tuck the cats into bed in the middle of the night.

Felix soon catches up with your steps after bidding him farewell, crumpling the sandwich wrapper in his palm. “Wait up, muffin,” he says breathlessly with a few skips, starting to think about not skipping dance practice again this summer before his body gets out of shape.

“Shut up,” you grumble, followed by a harsh elbow jabbed into his side. Felix grunts in pain, slowing down a little but still tries to walk side by side with you nonetheless. “You don’t deserve that complimentary breakfast, I’m telling mom to cut your portion off next time.”

“Ah! Come on, muffin! You’re being mean.”

Your biggest fear has inevitably come true—after all those years of erratic mood swings and other weird things puberty puts you through, Felix still makes fun of you for the nickname that your parents came up with on your first day of school. It doesn’t help with the fact that he meets them quite often too. Like four out of seven days a week since your parents love coming over to each other’s house for dinner.

“Flip that scowl upside down now, will you?” Felix cups your cheeks and squishes them together, attempting to make your smile by tugging at the corners of your lips. “Aren’t you excited about the trip?”

You scoff at him, “Are you even hearing yourself? My entire existence reeks off ‘excitement’ 24/7.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“I’m not responsible for whatever happens next to your face.”

But when you reach up to peel his hands away, you’re bound to make a grave mistake by looking straight into his eyes. The morning light hits his face at the right angle and it makes him look like a puppy—which you wouldn't mind starting at all day. Although it’s not like you haven’t got a good look at him before, something’s different today. From the way his irises twinkle gently like thousands of celestial bodies to how his freckles scattered across his cheekbones like the remaining bits from a supernova, his full lips with a prominent Cupid’s bow and his cute crooked teeth.

You know all of these things; perhaps you’ve never put too much thought into them before. Not when you’re constantly facepalming at him for doing stupid TikTok dances and trying to eat a banana with its peel on. But now when you actually acknowledge them, your heart momentarily skips a beat. Or two.

Doesn’t matter, you hate this feeling either way.

“Get a room, this is disgusting to watch.”

Seungmin steps in between you two with his backpack slung over his shoulders, hands resting on his hip like he’s babysitting you and your biological parents don’t pay him enough for this tedious job. But Felix is too busy making sure that his eyes aren’t malfunctioning when he sees a pink tint on your cheeks to focus on whatever nonsense Seungmin is spewing at him.

“Get on the bus, losers! Y’all are embarrassing me!” Hyunjin yells as he plants a foot onto the bus, trying his best not to be subtle about the fact that all of your classmates have already been seated.

You can practically see Jisung making weird faces from the window and next to him is a very cranky-looking Jeongin with his earbuds plugged in, deciding not to tolerate any chit-chatting this morning. It’s a shame how the school’s always on a low budget when it comes to transportation; consequently, some random freshmen got squeezed in with your class.

So you elect to ignore your friend’s questionable behaviors (sometimes you wonder what he’s on to be this zealous at six in the morning) and grabs Felix's hand to climb onto the vehicle before coach Kim kicks your ass for slowing the schedule down.

As you shuffle down the narrow aisle, you quickly realize there are only two seats left at the very back—basically, you feel a little guilty for not getting a good spot for Felix but he doesn’t seem to mind because he taps you on the shoulder lightly, signaling for you to move.

“Ugh, I wanna go home,” you sigh, slumping into your seat after tucking your backpack neatly on the small compartment above.

“You’re boring,” Felix comments flatly but he’s partially glad that he got to sit with you instead of some blabberer. “Need this?” Fishing his earphones out of his backpack, he wiggles the banana milk case in front of your face.

You only nod lazily at the offer, causing him to huff in disbelief before slipping in a side of his AirPods into your ear. You both have pretty similar taste in music so you don’t mind when he puts one of his playlists on random and Fly Me to the Moon bleeds into your eardrums. The soft melody makes you yawn a little, eyelids getting droopy.

“Tired.” Is the only warning Felix gets before you decide to drop your head onto his shoulders, slipping your arm around his torso comfortably like it’s a pillow. You personally don’t do cuddles but since he’s into those things and smells nice—very fruity, somewhat musky too, you might as well take advantage of that with the hope of sleeping throughout the entire ride.

“What is wrong with you today?” he asks with glowing cheeks.

“Shh shh, I’m recharging my battery.”

Felix is a little flustered, to say the least. But instead of complaining about your sudden clinginess, he rests his head on top of yours like second nature, allowing his childhood song to drown out some of the background chatters.

You should really be clingy more often… though he’s not gonna risk his pearly white teeth by telling you that.

five.

Your school actually knows how to manage money in a smart way. Shocker, you know.

You are thrown off upon hearing that no one needs to worry about the grizzly bears, or wolves (hey, one can never be too careful) because everyone gets to share a log cabin with a maximum of three other people.

In fact, the camp counselors have confirmed that even though they’re throwing a bunch of inexperienced, dumb high schoolers smacked in the middle of the wilderness, there’s really nothing to do other than boring team-building exercises...and fishing. In other words, the only creature that can somewhat do harm to you is mosquitoes.

It’s been pouring nonstop when your classmates tried to set up the campfire with coach Kim screaming into their eardrums last night, no wonder those little shit are thriving to make your life more miserable—they’re in their element, reproducing at a terrifying pace.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!”

Hyunjin clutches a hand to his chest in both relief and terror after realizing the curled up figure sitting by the window is just you. He steps inside the cabin completely and flings his wet bangs away from his face, shoving the umbrella in his hand into a stand by the shoe rack. “You look like shit, are you okay?” he furrows his brows, slightly concerned about your eyebags and the way your lips crack from dehydration.

A soulless smile finds its way to your face. “I’m pretty sure ‘shit’ and ‘okay’ aren’t supposed to be in the same sentence but thank you for asking, I appreciate it.”

Here’s another downside to being a homebody: you can’t fucking sleep on any other beds that aren’t yours. And surprisingly that two-hour nap on the bus wasn’t enough to fuel you for the rest of the trip. But lucky you, it’s most likely going to keep raining cats and dogs and trash pandas for the rest of the day. Outdoor activities are no longer mandatory and you can almost hear your non-existent muscles crying in sheer joy.

“Drink,” Hyunjin sighs at your pathetic state and decides to toss a water bottle in your direction.

However, all you do is retrieve your limbs deeper into Felix’s fluffy blanket since he refused to use the grey one that’s draped over every bed beforehand. You’re far beyond grateful for that because those fading, questionable-looking stains just scare the crap out of you. And also because the fluffy blanket smells like him; you rest your case.

“You were knocked out for the entire bus ride, so why the hell can’t you fall asleep on a decent bed?” Shaking his head, Hyunjin plops himself onto Jisung’s bed like a potato, accidentally knocking over the neatly folded pile of clothes. He really doesn’t give two flying fucks about the fact that his friend spent an excessive ten minutes to organize his stuff so coach Kim won’t be barging into their cabin with a megaphone at five in the morning again.

“She can only fall asleep on Felix, that’s why.” You roll your eyes in the bitchiest way possible, not bothering to chuck the abandoned water bottle at the unwanted guest of this terrific conversation.

Hyunjin almost lets out a shriek when Seungmin jolts up from his bed, hair messy, a leg sticking out from his comforter. “You know, until this exact moment, I thought that you were dead or something.”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Seungmin elaborates as he bends over to reach for his glasses with squinted eyes. “There’s a 99,9% that Felix will make the first move but at the same time, it doesn’t mean the other 0,01% won’t happen so you,” he jabs his index finger towards you. “Better be doing something other than walking around camp like a zombie.”

Hyunjin tilts his head in confusion. “Since when was this even a thing?” You’re this close to have a permanent hand imprint on your forehead for facepalming every two seconds with your idiotic friends around.

“Uhh, since forever?” Seungmin feels the need to voice out. “Listen, since the day Y/N spilled orange juice on Felix’s favorite shirt, the amount of times they’re forced to be together has risen tremendously. And when their parents found out their families live like ten minutes away from each other, they practically see each other every single day. Even outside of school. They tolerate each other, meaning the dynamic is long-lasting. Their bonding encouraged friendship.”

“But we’re her friends too?”

A deep breath. “No, their friendship was incited to grow into something bigger, more profound because Felix has a special ‘click’ with Y/N that he doesn’t with us. God, Hyunjin, it’s been what, almost a decade! How could you not see it?” Seungmin says with expressive hands, almost yanking every strand of hair off of his head. It’s too early for this, his brain is about to implode. Hwang Hyunjin being dense just feels like a metaphoric chokehold to him.

“Y/N,” Hyunjin simply ignores his frustrated friend to look over at you slipping into your sneakers. “You’re being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

“That’s because she’s about to either shut the door in my face then find Felix or kick my ass and then find Felix,” Seungmin informs with a yawn, and this prompts you to muster a fake smile.

Oh, I’m fucking livid.

“You know me too well.”

He questions with heavy irony, “I’m sorry did you just agree with me?”

“Oh no, no, I take that back,” you brush him off. “Is Felix still outside fishing?”

“I think so?” Hyunjin replies while running a hand through his hair in mere distress; Felix’s competitiveness goes a little mayhem sometimes when it comes to Jisung being better than him at something since they’re so close. That’s one of the sole reasons why Felix always manages to maintain his flying GPA because Han Jisung procrastinates like no other but still tops his class every single semester.

“I didn’t find him at the lake, though, wonder where he went.”

You widen your eyes, somewhat alarmed since it’s almost lunchtime, and Felix Lee never, and you mean never, ever let himself skip a meal. He always gets a nice nap after stuffing his face with enough good food too, so that’s a bonus. But that’s not the point, the point is: you’re starting to get a little worried because he’s been fishing all morning, wandering alone in the wilderness without a camp counselor.

You’d better not find him sleeping with the fishes.

six.

Maybe you were right, maybe Felix is a dumbass.

Because listening to his ego and coming back to the lake after breakfast was a horrendous idea.

It’s such a pity how those weird-looking vehicles have stopped driving around camp the moment it started pouring outside. Heck, he didn’t even bring an umbrella after asking the coach to check today's forecast.

So tragically, he’s now stuck underneath the canopy of a cafe ensuing coursing his way through the water blizzard and seeking refuge but can’t walk back to his cabin where his cabin-mates are probably having the time of their life drinking hot chocolate and nibbling on hand-picked fruits.

Felix exhales in torment while gazing outside, everything’s completely white-out thanks to droplets of raining streaking the horizon. Perhaps dashing back might be his one solitary option, but shivers soon run up his spine again, reminding him that he’s probably looking like a wet rat—his black Converse sodden, water seeping through the thin fabric of his uniform, numbing his skin.

Ruffling his wet fringe, Felix’s hand fishes inside his pocket to look for his phone only to realize that it’s not there. “Shit...great..just great, today is my lucky day.” Even if the camp counselors didn’t confiscate all the electronic devices, there wouldn’t be any service in the middle of the woods either. Splendid.

“Ugh, Y/N,” he groans under his breath. “Why did you let me do this?”

“Shit.”

“AHH!”

Felix shrieks upon the tiny voice squeaking out from behind him. And he sighs in pure relief to see a little girl standing mere inches away, looking no more than a seven-year-old dressed in a yellow raincoat. “Hey kid,” he chuckles and crouches down to her eye level. “Where are your parents? You’re not supposed to be out here alone when it’s pouring like crazy.”

And to his dismay, “Shit,” the little girl giggles, finding a new profound interest in the curse word that he accidentally spewed out seconds ago.

“Shh shh,” Felix frantically places an index finger on his lips while darting his eyes around in terror—he might be sued if her parents found out how their daughter picked up a bad word from some random high schooler. Suddenly he feels bad for his future kids. “No, no, we can’t say that. It’s forbidden. What’s your name?”

“Mina,” she answers cutely and fiddles with the ends of her braids. “Who’s Y/N? Is she your girlfriend?”

Felix chokes on his own saliva. “...no, why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, my dad always calls my mom’s name when he messes things up.”

“What does that have to do with- oh, shit,” he facepalms himself. This kid is going to give him a cardiac arrest any second now. “It doesn’t matter if she’s my girlfriend or not, what matters is I need to get you back to your parents. Do you know where they are right now?”

Mina simply shakes her head with a pout. “Okay, let’s go find them then,” he can’t help but cracks a smile, ruffling her hair endearingly. Most kids would be bawling their eyes out by now knowing that they’ve strayed from their parents; she’s a tough one.

Felix gently grabs Mina’s hand, biting down on his lower lip as he prays that a cold doesn’t catch up to him tomorrow and ready to dash out of the canopy that’s been keeping him dry for the last hour or two. But then a figure comes into view from afar, holding an umbrella while squinting their eyes through the thick streaks of rain.

“Y/N..?” he mutters to himself in disbelief when you quickly skip underneath the canopy, collapsing the red umbrella in your hands. Felix recognizes that umbrella anywhere—isn’t that Hyunjin’s? Have you been looking for him? And for how long too?

“Didn’t even think about bringing an umbrella, smartass,” you say with a raised eyebrow. “Oh dear, who do we have here?” Before Felix can defend himself in vain with lame excuses, you’ve already taken your attention off him to stare at the unfamiliar presence. Your intense gaze scares Mina a little, causing the little girl to squeeze Felix’s hand, hiding behind his leg.

Your friend laughs, patting her little head in reassurance. “Mina, this is Y/N, my classmate. Don’t let her intimidate you.”

“Are you really going to bother with this little one?” you scrunch your nose a bit. “We’re having pork rib soup, by the way, better hurry if you don’t want Han to hog your portion all to himself.”

Felix rolls his eyes at how utterly apathetic you are towards children. If you can get a perfect A in calc then why is it so hard to simply comprehend that every twelve-year-old needs to be returned to their hypothetical parents safely? “What part of ‘a common sense of morality’ can’t you understand?”

“I don’t want to, actually, sounds like a lot of work,” you hum sarcastically.

“Your girlfriend is scary,” Mina ensconces herself further behind your friend, officially detecting you as a threat rather than someone who will potentially bring her back to the cabin where her parents are probably flipping the whole place upside down in a panic—which is exactly what you’re planning to do.

In your defense, you don’t detest kids in general. Only the bratty ones. And Mina is borderline bratty.

“You know, I can spare her some time, Lost and Found is like..ten minutes away from here.”

“Y/N-” Felix wants to scream at you, rubbing the side of his temple in distress. Imagining you babysitting your neighbor’s newborn last summer with nine bucks per hour, ten hours per day, and five out of seven days per week is one of the few things that constantly keeps him from having a good night's sleep. It baffles him how you haven’t accidentally drowned the infant while giving her a bath.

Mina gives the side of his jeans a tug, round eyes staring up at him expectantly. “Or we can get juice pops!” she exclaims happily and looks over to you, mustering her best puppy eyes. “Please? I don’t want to be alone..”

“Twenty seconds ago, you called me scary and now you’re guilt-tripping me?” you crouch down to get a good look at the kid. Bright, innocent brown eyes, cute button nose, and a chipped front tooth—perhaps she’s a little too cute to not get her juice pops.

Then, “And juice pops too? You evil mad mind genius,” you say after standing up to unfold Hyunjin’s umbrella, swinging it over the top of your head. “That’s extortion, kid, you’re too young for that.”

Felix breaks into a fit of giggles upon seeing you failing at trying to keep a straight face and steps in beside you under the umbrella. His next problem just pops up right then and there—Mina can’t squeeze in considering the umbrella that Hyunjin gave you is solely used for one person.

“Mina, hop on here,” he decides to get on his knees, permitting the little girl to clumsily climb on his back and eventually plopping herself onto his shoulders.

“Oh, oh, oh, can you two hold hands?” Mina suggests with a shit-eating grin on her face. This causes Felix’s cheeks to burn with a bright shade of red while you’re too busy throwing daggers at her with your eyes to notice. “My family does this all the time, my dad would carry me on his shoulders and my mom would hold his hand as we walk home after going to the park.”

You and Felix yell simultaneously, “We’re not your parents!!” But that doesn’t seem to scare the little girl. You’re both just encouraging her.

“Yip yip, horsey, don’t be disobedient now,” she giggles to herself and pulls at a solid patch of Felix’s hair, making you cringe because his hair and scalp have already had enough from his questionable obsession with bright hair colors.

“Ow! Mina! Stop it! Ow!”

“Okay quit torturing my friend,” you tell her and decide to slip your hand in with Felix’s, intertwining your fingers to secure the grip before showing it to Mina so that she’ll stop before any blood is drawn. “There, we’re holding hands just like your mommy and daddy, you happy?”

Felix doesn’t say anything even when Mina nods happily, releasing her monstrous grip off his poor scalp. He only lets you tug him away from the canopy of the cafe as he gazes downward, eyes glued to how your hand fits into his perfectly. The sound of rain tapping against the umbrella suddenly bugs him, suffocating him in a way. In other words, it’s really unnatural to think this way about his best friend but he doesn't want you to let go at all.

Everything seems to move faster when you’re holding onto his hand so certainly. Felix thinks you’re fully aware but try to fight off the voices that are taunting you to just drop it. And truth is, you can care less because your head is now far too fuzzy to focus on anything but the road ahead.

You pray he doesn’t feel the pounding rhythm from your veins. If your red ears haven’t given it away already.

seven.

Jisung has weird friends, that’s a fact. And no, you’re not talking about the gang that saved his ass every time he got into trouble aka you plus JeongMinLixJin. You’re talking about those kids from Class 2C that are mutual friends with Changbin.

Because the moment Jisung barges into the cabin and starts babbling nonsense that you can’t comprehend (not that you can comprehend any of his shit on the daily), you know that he just came back from a get together with those sketchy dudes who managed to sneak some booze inside a shampoo bottle.

“Uhm okay, who gave Felix alcohol?” he squints his eyes hard.

You are more than aware that Jisung is mildly smashed by the way that his cheeks are tinted with a light shade of coral, hiccupping every ten seconds and slightly more clumsy with his feet. He almost tripped over the rug at the front door if it weren’t for Hyunjin who caught him in time so that he wouldn’t break one of his precious teeth. Those painful years of constantly slurping on watery porridge after every dentist appointment to tighten his braces shouldn’t be going down the drain.

Speaking of bland rice water, that’s all Felix has been fed with after returning to camp because he has no choice. The sickness finally caught up to him as a result of staying outside for too long while still dressed in his rain-soaked uniform. Even under the cotton comforter, he’s radiating heat on the outside but stoically shivering on the inside, his energy level is as diminished as his appetite.

The nurse said there’s really nothing that can be done but give him some pills and let him ride it out so now Felix’s all curled up in a corner of his bed, cheeks burning flush of fever, coughing and sneezing occasionally. He refuses to be moved to a completely separate cabin because sleeping alone in a confined place knowing that the grizzly bears might be roaming outside your door is quite frightening for a junior in high school.

“God, what makes you think I’m the batshit drunk one here?” Felix croaks, his voice more hoarse and gruff than usual because every word pains him, his vocal cords pulse in agony at each syllable. And that sentence was probably the longest thing you’ve heard from him since dinner.

Jisung lets Hyunjin toss him onto his bed, face down, and props himself up on his forearms. “Uhh, have you checked yourself the mirror?” he hiccups, words a bit slurred, palms outstretched in a grabby motion. “Seungmin, water- ow! What the fuck was that!?”

He rubs the side of his head while babbling incoherently like a fucking five-year-old because Seungmin decided to chuck a water bottle at him. Those years of playing baseball during retreats indeed paid off.

“I went for the head,” Seungmin looks up from his book calmly, acting innocent.

Jisung whines and turns to his side, watching as the water bottle rolls back towards him after coming in contact with the wall. “God, I miss Minho. You guys suck,” he takes it before sitting right up but flops himself back down when a pang of pain claws at his temple. Who even allowed him to drink?

“Didn’t he make your high school experience miserable?” Hyunjin laughs, sitting down on the corner of his bed, legs curled into his chest.

“Hello? That was me,” Seungmin clarifies, he sounds a little offended. “He called me a nerd for studying late at the library for our finals! Our fucking finals! Do you know how insecure my freshman self was? I was so hurt!”

You cross your arms and mumble, “He’s the same guy who treated you ice-cream after finding out you got a B in physics.”

Hyunjin hums, butting into the topic, “And he made me do fifty push-ups because I unintentionally skipped a day at practice. Our Dance Club really didn’t need a president who effortlessly snatches the Asshole of the Year Award like he’s stealing candies from a kid.”

“Please, you’re practically buddies now,” you scoff. “You always play Mario Kart and rewatch the Avatar series with him, even during midterms!”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Jisung suddenly gets on his feet, jumping up and down like a maniac. You’re highly concerned for the bed by the creaking sound that it’s making—sounds just like something straight out of a horror film. “He almost threw a knife at me!”

You’re running out of excuses to defend your stupid brother at this rate. What’s the point in trying anyway? “Han, it was a plastic knife, chill.”

Jisung crawls off his bed to approach you, pinching his thumb and index finger together before shoving them to your face. “I was this close to dying! You try having someone threaten to throw a knife at you during lunch break,” he complains like it’s the end of the world. Truth is, you’ve seen (and experienced) worse things.

“Minho’s still my brother.”

Staring at you, Jisung looks unimpressed. “He wanted to kill me because I commented on his puffy cheeks that day.”

“He’s adopted.”

The conversation is pulled to a halt right there when Felix does a full-body groan, his head spinning and sweats starting to collect at his hairline. With his mind buzzed like he’s floating, the bickering only adds to the pressure that’s squeezing each of his functioning brain cells. In other words, it feels as though Han Jisung is a fucking hamster going on a marathon across his body, nibbling on his limbs and ears as he’s going through a hangover, his immune system going on a rampage.

Felix doesn’t even drink.

“That’s my call for a bedtime story.” You glare at Jisung when he clears his throat while you’re attempting to tuck Felix into bed, pressing your palm against his forehead to check his temperature. It’s not climbing anymore, he should be okay after sweating everything out.

Hyunjin pulls his friend back onto his bed, locking his limbs in tight before he waddles around and potentially breaks one of those decorative pieces on the bookshelf. “Not to burst your ego, but I don’t think you’re sober enough to give us a good story,” he says unapologetically.

“Puh-lease,” Jisung lets out the weirdest chuckle at that, wagging his forearm like those Japanese ceramic cat figures that are supposed to bring people good fortune; and Han Jisung is notorious for bringing people anything but good fortune. “They didn’t even have vodka, only Strongbow. That shit is too weak for me.”

You snort involuntarily, “Actually, I think you meant you’re too weak for those bottles of cider.”

“Wow, Y/N, what a snake.”

eight.

The bonfire crackles, flaring up to life when coach Kim tosses a lit matchstick into the pyramid pile of branches and woods. The flame projects long shadows of the trees all round along, swirling and curling in obscure shapes with the high schoolers that each hugs their own cup of hot cocoa, chomping on their marshmallows of choice.

Glowing embers beneath are colored by the inferno that seems to be moving with the rhythm and melody of the song that they’re all singing along, drumming their feet and bobbing their heads simultaneously.

“Are you guys sure you don’t want to join them?” Felix says apologetically after sneezing into a piece of tissue, his nose all red and swollen. “I can just… I don’t know, read a book or something.”

When he refers to those oddly colorful and rather bulky-looking books on the shelves, Seungmin immediately stops putting a cookie inside his mouth midway. “Those are called ‘aesthetically useless interior decoration’, Lix. Good luck trying to open those plastic blocks,” he expresses with his hands after stuffing the cookie into his mouth, chewing rather aggressively.

Felix feels quite bad because, for all he knows, Hyunjin and Seungmin have been planning on going kayaking today and trying out volleyball tomorrow. You’re all going home in two days yet they’ve done nothing but pigging out in pure distress. “Still, it’s a summer camp, you all should be out there having fun, not stuck inside to look after me while tolerating...that,” he quietly looks over at Jisung who just exited the bathroom after splashing his face with some water.

At least he doesn’t look crazy and homeless now.

“How are they doing that again?” you join Hyunjin as he rests his head lazily on his forearms, staring outside from the cabin’s window like Rapunzel in an alternative universe where Flynn Rider managed to escape the tower with the crown, leaving her behind longing for civil human interactions in vain.

“They sing..” he drawls. “And turn their heads to look at each other in the eye.”

You wave it off absentmindedly, falling on your back so now your head is hung upside down from the bed, your arms dangling midair. “Well, that sounds exhausting,” you mumble, ignoring the way that Seungmin is internally judging you.

Hyunjin sighs, “Never one for sentiment, are you?”

“Easier to let it burn,” you answer flatly, sitting upright when blood starts rushing to your head.

“Don’t feel bad,” Seungmin immediately forces a smile at Felix. “We’re not really into sitting with a bunch of idiots just to enjoy a mildly decent hot cocoa either way.”

Suddenly the lights go out, and Felix immediately curls himself further into the blanket, a little thrown off. Jisung’s face comes into view out of nowhere when he makes a grab for the oil lamp that no one seems to take notice of, lighting it up with a single match. “C’mon, kids, no bonfire is complete without a good ghost story,” he crosses his legs on the floor happily, still somewhat tipsy so his body is bouncing in excitement with occasional hiccups.

Hyunjin and Seungmin exchange questionable looks before scrambling to the floor, settling themselves a few solid inches in front of the oil lamp with a sigh while you only shrug at Felix, propping your head onto your hands. Laziness is starting to hold you hostage on Hyunjin’s bed at this rate.

Seungmin spares Jisung a slight glare, “Better not bullshit us with the same one that you heard at school-”

“No,” Jisung’s lips morph into something similar to a smirk, he looks concerningly confident for someone who’s utterly terrified after watching IT. And now he’s attempting to give his bros who are equally jumpy about everything and anything, you’re excited to see how this goes. “I heard this one from a camp counselor, true story.” You definitely don’t like the sound of that.

At first, the ghost was no more than a chill in the air, a shimmer of mist to the common eyes. Through the heavy rain and fog that seeps through people’s skin, chilling the core of their bones, it slowly came into focus. It wasn’t until the camper found refuge under a canopy of an abandoned café that it congealed into a form—a small child with brilliant round eyes, dressed in white clothing.

For a moment, all was silent and still. It was as though the camper got hypnotized, feet planted to the ground. Then, he could hear a small lullaby in a cheerful voice.

“Oranges and Lemons say the bells of St.Clements…” They know how that one ended.

Suddenly someone blows out the candle, but Jisung’s voice still rings in your eardrums. “When the camper took a step back, the ghost spoke again, this time with the voice almost of a smoker and grin…” You can feel Hyunjin hop back to bed with you in a tick of a clock, holding onto you for dear life with the infrequent whimpers of fear.

Jisung proceeds to continue, “The grin soon became a snarl, baring teeth like a wolf when it finished the lullaby…”

A muffled silence descends. And, “Have you come to play…?”

“AHHH!!” Felix lets out a petrified shriek, but what confuses you is the sound of Jisung grunting rather in pain. Seungmin sighs in disapproval, flickering the lights on while leaning back against the wall.

And now before your eyes is a slightly traumatized, feverish Felix with clattering teeth, quivering inside his blanket. Whereas, Jisung is sprawled across the floor, hugging his poor stomach, hacking up lungs. Deserve.

“This is why you don’t give people who can high-kick jump scares, dumbass,” Seungmin comments and crouches down in front of Jisung like his knight in shiny armors, letting a bottle of ointment dangle between his fingers. “Put this on, bet it’s already bruising.”

Hyunjin releases his arms around you and walks towards the freckled boy who looks like he’s about to slip into a coma. “Lix, are you okay?” he knits his brows together, starting to feel somewhat concerned.

Felix only waves it off with a raspy laugh, standing on wobbly legs with his blanket still wrapped around his figure. “I’m fine, I’ll just go wash my face.” Truth is, he’s anything but fine. And it doesn’t help when he accidentally has a glance of his own reflection in the body-length mirror from across the cabin—his hair is sticking to his forehead, his face is slightly more puffy than usual, and his eyebags look like he hasn’t slept in decades—he looks worse than a trash can, basically.

“Hyunjin,” you raise a brow at your friend’s current state.

“What?”

“Catch him.”

“Huh-” Hyunjin snaps his head back when a loud thud is heard, eyes growing twice as big in sheer panic upon the sight of Felix laying on his stomach, mere inches away from his feet. “Felix!!” Your friends rush to his side while you’re too busy checking the thermometer by his nightstand. The temperature doesn’t seem to be too alarming, he should be fine after sleeping and sweating it out. But really, Felix looks more like he’s having the nap of a lifetime rather than passing out from the worst fever of the century. That doesn’t stop everyone from freaking out, unfortunately.

Also, everyone can agree that this is the first and last storytime to ever happen.

nine.

Felix sits on the beach, eyes moving from sand to stone, from rock pools to breaking waves. He lets out a sigh, an exhale of relief when a breeze passes by him, tousling his hair as he buries his feet deeper into the primrose-colored grains. The briny aroma that exists in every fiber of air makes him feel at ease, as though unknotting all his angsty-teenager worries with grace. He feels a bit better, partially because his fever has already gone down when he shook you out of your half-asleep state at four in the morning.

“Why?” you ask without turning your head after sensing his tense posture.

Felix looks confused, a little startled when you break the silence. “Why what?”

“Why the long face?” you unknowingly exhale too, stubbornly gazing forward. “Thinking about something?” For some reason, you’re too...scared to even spare him a small glance. This isn’t you, did his fever rub off on you or something?

To your dismay, his sudden inquiry catches you off guard. “High school is going to be over in a year, have you thought about what to do?”

You open your mouth to protest with something along the line of he’s overthinking again and there’s still an entire year ahead to make new memories but when you’re about to utter the first word, your mouth automatically snaps itself close. It’s like you have an entire masterpiece planned out in your mind but when someone tosses you a blank canvas, you’re standing there in defeat like the biggest idiot. Felix is serious this time, you know it’s not because he’s lightheaded after riding out the fever.

“Honestly?” you breathe out. “No, I haven’t. God, I don’t even want to think about it, the future scares me a little.”

Upon the mossed rock and vibrant horizon, comes the sun rays that are promised by the starlit sky. It makes you both a little breathless, not exchanging a single word nor moving a muscle for a while.

Until, “Fine, it scares me a whole lot,” you confess, gaze cast downward as you hug your legs closer to your chest. “It sucks because everyone seems to have their lives together, Jisung is finally taking his interest in music seriously, Hyunjin is planning on being an actual theater kid, and Seungmin is...I don’t know, but he’s definitely onto something. Point is, everyone is already one too many steps ahead of me, I’m just..here, stuck. And I don’t feel like I have-”

“A lot of time left.” Felix finishes your sentence, prompting you to look at him this time. His delicate features shine under the cracking lights of dawn, starry eyes twinkling and lips outstretched into the smile that you absolutely adore. He has such a contagious type of smile that it makes you feel a little less dead inside whenever you see it. But your heartbeat also grows a little more ecstatic.

A hearty chuckle. “You’re not alone, you know,” he says while not breaking away from the eye contact, this makes your throat grow dry. “I still have so much to do, so much to...say yet too little time. So yeah, don’t think about it too much, I’m never gonna leave you behind no matter what.”

You have to hold back a playful scoff at that; and to think he was the one who brought up this sappy topic. “If anything, you’re the overthinker in this relationship,” you tell him with a nudge on his rib. “But if you’ve already had my back, then you should know that I’ll always have yours too.”

Because what would you do without an overthinker like Felix? Drowning your sorrow by stress-eating in the middle of the night? Bottoming out on questionable drinks to end up like Han Jisung? Winging every single important choice that can potentially flip your life upside down in either a good or bad way? Not in a million years. He knows that you need him as much as he needs you, harsh truth but you still hate it either way.

You both don’t look forward to the future, like at all.

You’re too apathetic and overall just a big ‘meh’ about it. You’re the type of person that goes with the flow, letting life toss you around like a ragdoll until you finally snap at some point to fight back because you know where the line between giving up and knowing that you’ve had enough is. Meanwhile, Felix is rather anxious about things. If a piece of paper with a pencil can draw out the map of his entire destiny ahead then he’ll have it finished in one night. But he’s grown out of his middle school self to know that things don’t always go as planned.

Guess if things turn out to be shit, you’ll still have him.

“Does that mean if we’re still single in our thirties, you’ll marry me like how our parents always joke about?” Felix cracks a shit-eating grin this time, one that makes your heart swell but for the most part, you wanna whack him unconscious with a pillow.

You sneer in return, “Sure, but you’ll have to fall for me first.”

There’s a pang in Felix’s chest, it’s so loud and evident that he’s afraid you might hear it. You really didn’t have to slap him in the face with that seemingly harmless statement. “Hmm, who would even fall for a stubborn hermit crab like you?” he jokes to hide the nervousness that’s crawling upon his spine. His ears are probably bright red right now. “Although...that wouldn’t be a problem with me.” Because he’s already fallen for you, a little too hard actually.

“What does that even mean?” you only hum after questioning his statement, nothing makes sense right now since you’re getting a little sleepy because a certain someone wanted to watch the sunrise which simply lasted for about two minutes after two(ish) hours of waiting.

“I don’t know,” Felix laughs before standing up, dusting the sand off of his jeans. “You go figure it out, smartass.” With that, he runs off with his Converses dangling between his fingers, leaving you dumbfounded in the middle of the beach like a total dimwit. Slowly, within those five seconds of making eye contact with your best friend again, his words zero in on you like a wakeup call.

Urgently grabbing your sneakers, you chase after him. “Hey- wait! GET BACK HERE!” By looks of it, you’ve probably figured it out now. It’s not like he’s trying to be subtle either.

Felix feels like he just gained strength from spewing out that indirect confession, and it gives him a tiny ray of hope that he still has his entire youth before his eyes to tell you how he really feels. Or his whole life if you don’t start resenting him for crossing the line that no one dares talk about when they have a thing for their best friend.

Either way, as long as Felix sees your presence side by side with him at every ups and downs, he’s home.

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sourbat · 3 years

Text

A Missed Call

Because you can never have enough magtok, here’s an old one shot I wrote some time back for the holidays, but never got to releasing.

Summary: After a rough morning and bad rehearsal, Toki retreats and listens to an old, missed call saved on his dethphone.

Pair: Toki and Magnus

Rating: T

Read on Ao3 or click read more below!

Following a long night of painting a recently completed figurine, Toki woke up late on the morning of a planned recording session, one he had practiced for beforehand. Toki checked the time, panicked and hurriedly put on some clothes, skipped the shower, and rushed to the upper levels and kitchen to grab some fruit as a quick and easy breakfast. On his way to rehearsal, he got woozy and had to double back retrieve his insulin. When Toki finally arrived, everyone was already in a foul mood. Knubbler mentioned losing two saved recordings, and apparently Murderface raised a fit about it. No one entertained his tardiness, and Toki could tell that patience was wearing thin, but still insisted he get some recordings in to show his dedication to the band.

Since he left his guitar behind in his room, Skwisgaar tentatively offered one of his own, lips pursed and brows sinking while Toki readjusted the harness, tightened a string. It seemed every small action he performed while scrambling to the tinier recording room earned the ire of his lead guitarist, and when they settled, Toki sensed the increasing weight of the atmosphere, the building gravity and high expectations that few could reach.

He couldn’t concentrate. Not with Skwisgaar frowning at him, eyes stained with contempt, arms crossed tightly to his chest and fingers rapidly tapping the correct rhythm across his rigid form.

Knubbler gave Toki permission to go, but his eyes couldn’t break from the imaginary strings rapidly coursing through Skwisgaar’s busy hands. He knew Skwisgaar was comparing their speed and overall performance. Toki saw the frown extend downwards, finding his attempt inadequate. Toki flubbed the first recording, and just four measures into his part. He messed up on the second and third try. He made it as far as the first rest, then messed up again.

Sixteen measures and another set of wrong notes later, Skwisgaar finally had had enough, and the passive remarks began. Toki couldn’t play over Skwisgaar loudly pointing out every wrong note he tried teaching. With the room filled with a never-ending tirade of “noes,” Knubbler had no choice but to stop recording. The moment he announced the news, Skwisgaar grabbed the guitar by the neck and loudly insisted through Toki’s headset that he would play the parts instead.

The news proved fatal to his esteem. Aghast, Toki pleaded with Skwisgaar to let him try one more time. He grabbed the older man by his top, but then sank and fell on his knees. Skwisgaar wouldn’t have it, nor would Knubbler who, after bringing a hand to cover the red light flaring in his optical devices, suggested an emergency fifteen-minute break.

Tensions were high as Skwisgaar exited the small room, hand clasping the guitar and swinging with a vigor that warned Pickles and Nathan to back off and keep their mouths shut. Murderface left the couch to grab some snacks, and when he returned, saw Toki inching his way to the nearest door.

“You alright, Toki?” he asked through loud chews and smacks.

Toki didn’t answer. His head sank, leaving just a nub of a neck and messy chestnut veil before he reached for the door.

Knubbler turned in his seat. “Tough luck, babe. Come back in fifteen, alright?”

“Or don’ts, nots like we’lls notice,” Skwisgaar said under his breath, earning a sharp jolt from Toki’s shoulder before he stomped out of the room.

Nathan sighed. “Skwisgaar.”

“Dood, no need ta’ be a–”

The door shut, and at the sound of the lock clicking, Toki pressed his back into the adjoining wall. Cool stone tempered his rigid, hot spine. It pushed the heat forward, through his chest, then spilled down his cheeks in a furious heat. Toki slid to the floor, legs retracting and arms coiled round to bring them up to his chest. He sighed and tried shutting his eyes, only to have to watch himself repeat the same mistake again, observe his clumsy fingers resting on top the wrong string, wrong fret, sloppily strumming and ending up with a nasty fuzz that only further infuriated Skwisgaar. A heaviness collected across his beet-reddened face before going limp. He buried his face between his shaking legs. He spent the next few moments in silence, head spinning and throat shut, refusing the smallest intake of air until Skwisgaar’s harsh words turned into blurry static.

The pain that swelled in his chest raged forth, climbing up his strained neck, reaching behind his eyes and sending a throb that warned Toki of an impending sob. He sucked a sharp breath, filling his chest and stomach until his belly hurt, then shuttered an uneven exhale. The anxiety whirled in his abdomen, a miniature storm that threatened to burst into a panicked state if he didn’t act quick.

Toki blinked, feeling the wet sting forming in his eyes. He released his shaking, numbing legs, letting one drop while keeping the other close for support. Head still lost in the dark fog, Toki reached for his pocket, and pulled out his phone. He wiped his face, dragged an arm across his nose and sniffed hard, sucking up the collecting moisture into his ailing throat, and went through his dethphone’s multiple applications.

His thumb lingered over a message dating back nearly eight months. Toki sniveled over it, tongue lapping around his lips as he glanced at the time, the length of the message. Wide eyes darted to the ends of the hallway. When he determined there were no oncoming gears, he pressed play on the screen.

The phone’s display went dark for a second, then vibrated with a rapture of noises. Toki’s bottom lips curled inward, teeth pressing on top the skin as he watched the screen come alive with shadows, the blur of a swaying phone failing to focus on a single image, and the colorful, out-of-focus city lights in the backdrop.

Then, humming. Toki instantly calmed when he heard the slow, off-tune notes, followed by the screen moving, raised up to reveal Magnus' curious face lazily staring into the screen. “…why aren’t you answering your phone?”

The voice fuzzed as Magnus brought the screen closer, angle crooked as he leaned to one side, body lax and swaying with each step.

“Just as well. Shit.” Toki broke into a chuckle as Magnus stumbled forward. The camera toggled, pointed upwards at the sky. The first time it had happened, Toki yelped, panicked over Magnus potentially falling and breaking his neck. Now, he counted the seconds of Magnus’ extended groan, then smiled at the incoming giggle that sluggishly transitioned into a prolonged, nonsensical song. “Dadadaaaa…”

Feeling a bit more at ease, Toki’ s second leg began to sink, and both hands fixed to the screen as he toggled the phone to its side. When he checked again, Magnus was back to a (crooked) stand, happy and quite pleased with himself not falling flat on his face. A car zoomed by in the background. The lights at the intersection turned green, and Magnus brought his tongue out to wet his drying lips.

“Leave it to the one time I figure how to use this dumb app, just my luck.” Magnus rolled his head back, messy hair whisking, flowing out of tandem with his uneven gait. He shut his eyes. “I know I said…I’m sorry I’m drunk, buddy. God, I miss you right now.”

Toki wiped his eyes, giving a short nod. “S’okay,” he whispered, letting a thumb come close to petting the drunk Magnus who’d broken his promise not to drink too much, at least now without Toki to look after him.

Magnus stared back. Not at the light, nor the screen, but at Toki. “Hope you’re, uhh, having fun right now. Whatever you’re doing.”

Toki shook his head.

Magnus’ expression softened. “You know, I miss you,” he slurred to the phone’s receiver. “A lot. Like, holy shit, dude. You gotta come back soon. Hit me up, even if it’s just to yell at me for breaking my promise.”

Toki sniffled as Magnus pulled away from the camera. His hand turned inward, almost as though he were trying to cradle the screen, reach and cup the face of the Toki who had failed to pick up the call several months ago. Even then, it had been hard to stay angry at him. Disappointed, sure, but Toki couldn’t stay mad at the man who went out of his way to learn how to use his Facebones-time app, call and speak from the heart.

Thinking of it, Toki glued himself to the screen, silently awaiting the next portion.

“I really miss you,” Magnus continued. He leaned against the wall of some unknown building, his sinking head still favoring a particular side. “I know you’re on tour and all, and I gotta be fucking patient but…this is going to sound so cheesy, but I miss seeing your smile.”

Just hearing the words lifted the ends of Toki’s mouth. On screen, Magnus’ expression softened, eyes blurred with sudden realization.

“I miss you telling me to stop scowling all the time, and I miss you telling me it’s ok…”

“If ams not readies to smiles yet,” Toki whispered to the screen.

“–if I don’t feel ready to smile yet.” Magnus made a face that, to this day, made Toki feel just a little anxious. What was going on in his head, he wondered. Did Magnus know what he was about to say?

He watched Magnus palm his hand over his bad eye. “Fuuuuck, what am I saying?”

“Everytinks you wants, Magnus,” Toki answered the recording. His heart picked up, anticipating the final portion of Magnus’ drunken rambling, the denouement of his accidental message, and that final push Toki needed to help him get through this miserable day.

The screen emitted hardly any sounds, producing only the subtle changes brought on by the late autumn winds, the occasional roll of a speeding car, and Magnus’ own relaxed breathing.

“You’ve probably already deleted this,” Magnus murmured to himself. Or to Toki? Hard to say. The smile he cracked was aimed at no one in particular, but each time he lifted his head, and Toki saw his long waves brush across face and reveal the longing in his eyes, he thought Magnus must have known, deep down, what he was going to say. “I’m drunk and I’m swearing and I miss you, and I love you, and the more I think about you being away for two more weeks–”

Just like that. The three words Toki had tried prying from Magnus for weeks, months, had slipped through the cracks and were uttered during a random night spent drinking alone.

“–It kills me. Shit, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Toki stroked the screen. “Ams fine, Magnus.”

“Well, that’s all. I just wanted to tell you I love you. And miss you. And as soon as you get back I want you to tell me how you got on stage and rocked the hell out of everyone’s soul. The same way you do mine whenever you… hehehehehe…ah, shit .”

Caught between their shared laughter was Magnus stumbling forward, and like every past play through, Toki quieted down, paused the video once he remembered what Magnus had said, and rewound it just to hear it again. He obsessed over the second “I love you,” all casual and free. The “I love you” that was comfortably tucked between other facets, and said with no restraints, no second-guessing. It was a feeling he admitted to without any forethought, and spoken from the heart.

“Call me back, ok?”

Magnus’ hand covered the screen. It took him a while to accurately bring an end to the call, but while he muttered to himself, questioned and asked no one in particular how to shut off the app, Toki meandered in place, wiggling as he relived the words, Magnus voice setting free that momentous confession thought the form of a simple, missed call. It would be another two months before he whispered the words, so soft and faint, and yet somehow carrying the weight of the universe on top of it. That sober confession would be as impactful, and while Toki spent nights replaying how shy Magnus had been when he first shyly announced his love to him, nothing quite compared to the drunk Magnus who casually remarked his affections.

“Will calls you soons,” Toki said to the phone, then closed the app. He would, and he’d do everything within his power to reverse the tragic alignments set before him, and turn this shitty day into something decent and worth discussing. Skwisgaar could yell at him, but Toki would still try his best. He’d play his heart out like Magnus expected him to, and would have something to show for it once it was over.

Toki checked the time, and saw he had about five minutes left until his break ended, and another two hours before Magnus had to wake up to get ready for work. His nerves still shook from the memory of his recent failure. Toki sighed. Eyes closed, he saw Magnus standing alone, city lights a messy blur, veiled under a heavy and tiresome drunken haze. If that man could figure out how to use his phone and video call him, cheer him on and tell him how much he cared about him, then Toki could finish a session and get his part in the demo.

He reentered the room a seconds later, warmed face hit with the thick atmosphere.

Pickles and Nathan stopped their discussion to check on him as he slowly approached. Nathan regarded Toki with a gentle nod. “You ok, Toki?”

“Ams fine, thanks for askins.” Toki waved shyly at the two. Thankfully, Skwisgaar was nowhere to be found. While it didn’t guarantee a permanent reprieve from the stress to come, it did allot Toki some additional time to prepare for the rest of his session. Remembering Magnus’ encouraging words, his drunken, cherry-red smile and airy laugh that always reached so high before cracking, Toki exhaled. He pushed out as much of his anxieties as he could, the panic that settled across his queasy belly, and he walked over to Skwisgaar’s guitar.

Pickles raised a brow, popped the gum he’d been chewing as Toki adjusted the strap, and then proceeded to the recording room.

“Hey, Toki.” Nathan interjected, still reclined comfortably in his seat, and not appearing slightly offended when Toki met his obtrusive glare with oblivious perplexity. “Where are you going?”

“To practice,” Toki answered. Charged by his response, Toki confidently turned for the smaller room. “Goinks to show Skwisgaar ams not a screws-up,” he said, voice carrying a surge of an impending storm, raw energy that filled his expanding chest with the assurance he needed to get him through the session.

As he opened the door, Magnus' voice entered his mind:

Rock the hell out of everyone’s soul.

#toki wartooth #magnus hammersmith #fanfic #magtok #hammertooth #drinking #sad times #but wholesome feels #skwisgaar is ams dick in this one #sorry

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darkisrising · 4 years

Note

Song lyric prompt: "My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies/Fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die"

Tales

“About time you showed up,” Anakin mutters darkly when he catches sight of a travel-creased Obi-Wan being ushered into the hall for a banquet he’s ten standard hours late for. Anakin is the only one here save the attendants that dart around, silently working around a fleet of droids to clear away picked over plates of food. Large doors line the hall and it’s clear from the murmur of voices drifting in on the soft evening breeze that the festivities have spilled out into the garden. “He’s been out there for hours.”

It’s familiar, this frustration at a master that, if left to his own devices, would amble around the galaxy, meeting people and forging bonds with pathetic life forms forever. Obi-Wan had had thirteen years of shepherding Qui-Gon about when he’d been a padawan and now seven more as a knight whose task it is—between being sent into war zones and keeping the peace with a glowing blue saber in hand— to keep a certain master from wandering off whenever the Council deemed it necessary.

Obi-Wan smooths a thumb across his mouth to hide away a laugh, though Anakin isn’t fooled. His eyes narrow, a glower if ever Obi-Wan’s seen one, and this time Obi-Wan works harder to school his face into a more careful passivity.

“Whatever,” the teenager mutters to himself, unimpressed with Obi-Wan’s self control. “He’s your problem if he stays up so late he’s useless at tomorrow’s treaty negotiations. I’ve got a final to study for before bed.”

“You can stand down now, Padawan. I’m here and will take full responsibility for keeping Master Qui-Gon Jinn in line from here on out.”

“If only,” Anakin says, but this time there’s more than a little humor in his voice. A flash of a smile lights the corners of his mouth and it more than makes up for a miserable shuttle ride in to see it. “I’m really glad you were able to make it out here, Obi-Wan. I’ve missed you.” Something mischievous flickers in Anakin’s dark blue gaze, there and gone before it so much as registers to Obi-Wan’s eye. “He’s missed you, too.”

Outside is about what Obi-Wan is expecting: manicured shrubs and gentle candlelight. Beautiful, influential beings half-hidden in shadow. Easy laughter shared around one-too-many drinks before the hard work of tomorrow begins in earnest.

Making his way around the garden’s edges, he finally finds Qui-Gon lit by flickering orange flames and listening with rapt attention as an older human weaves him a story.

Qui-Gon collects stories. Huddled around campfires and hearths, large hand wrapped around a mulled mead or a warmed whiskey, Qui-Gon has lost years of his life among the rise and fall of voices that speak their truths and spin tall tales among the stars. Young mothers and veteran soldiers, hotshot adventurers and village shamans, he treats them all with the same gentle reverence. Obi-Wan has often thought that if the Jedi hadn’t needed to change so much with the times—if they could still be the peaceful Order they’d once been rather than the blade of the Senate that they are now—this could have been Qui-Gon’s charged purpose. He could be left alone to wander the galaxy, bearing mindful witness to these stories, setting them to flimsi with the heart of a poet and the care of an archivist.

Obi-Wan knows better than to interrupt the spell of a story once it’s been cast, so he waits for Qui-Gon to give a small smile and a thoughtful nod before he steps to his side.

“Ah,” Qui-Gon says, voice a smooth rumble in the dark, and Obi-Wan is close enough to smell the bite of liquor that drifts from his crystal tumbler. “And here he is now.”

“I apologize for my delay,” Obi-Wan says with a deferential bow. “There was a faulty hyperdrive on the shuttle, I’m afraid.”

“No worries at all, ser Jedi,” the old man says with a broad smile, gold-tipped teeth winking. “We are honored to have you join us for any length of time.”

“The baron was just telling me about the time you visited his home planet and single handedly evacuated his people from the path of an erupting volcano while fighting back a swarm of locusts. It seems you have become quite the hero on Troger.”

“I’m not sure about a swarm,” Obi-Wan says, affecting a tone of self-effacement that has Qui-Gon hiding a smile behind a sip of amber liquid. “I do remember an insect or two.”

Mainly in his hair. In his teeth, too, when he’d had to yell instruction out at the panicking villagers.

“I expected you to be taller, truth be told.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint, Baron. I suppose as the tales grew I, too, must have grown in both stature and deed.”

“Well,” the baron says, draining his glass with an adept tilt of his head and flick of his wrist. “I’ll be sure to leave that part out when I tell them I have seen Knight Kenobi in the flesh. Gentlebeings,” he says with a slight bow as he takes his leave for the night.

They watch as the baron’s shock-white hair disappears into the dwindling crowd. Some of the candelabras have been burned to nothing and the shadows are longer than they’d been even a moment ago.

“Am I really that short?” Obi-Wan asks and he can hear Qui-Gon’s snort of laughter.

“Am I really the one you should be asking?” Qui-Gon counters, voice echoing within the depths of his tumbler as he finishes his drink, too. “I take it Anakin has left me to your care for the remainder of the evening?”

“He has. He said something about studying?”

“AstroNavigation,” Qui-Gon provides. “I offered to help him but he said he’d been warned away from accepting any of my assistance on the subject.”

“Well,” Obi-Wan pulls on his beard to stop the sly smile from blossoming across his face. “I may have told him about the time you helped me study AstroNav and how I subsequently lost my place at the head of the class.”

“How was I to know Nax had been downgraded to a dwarf planet since I last took the class?”

“It’s alright,” Obi-Wan says, patting Qui-Gon’s shoulder with an affectionate hand. “It only happened the year before your padawan braid was cut. I’m sure you would have caught up with the news, eventually. If given a few more decades.”

They end up in Obi-Wan’s assigned quarters, which are a splendor of marble floors and large balconies with curtains that billow as they let in the cool night air.

“Our rooms are much smaller,” Qui-Gon says, leaning on a wall as he appraises the suite. It had become clear to Obi-Wan from the way he’d walked carefully—deliberately— through the halls that Qui-Gon was drunk, though he hid it well.

“I suppose being the hero of Troger has its advantages.”

“Mm,” Qui-Gon agrees with a hum as he pulls Obi-Wan to him for a kiss.

Seven years. They’d been lovers now for seven years, and yet still Obi-Wan’s chest flutters like the beating of an insect’s wings at the first touch of Qui-Gon’s lips to his. He has to stand on the balls of his feet to wrap his arms around Qui-Gon’s shoulders, and he can feel warm palms brace his lower back, protecting him from falling as if Obi-Wan had been the one who’d spent the evening losing himself to words and liquor.

He follows the warmth of Qui-Gon’s tongue, chasing it with his own, and he breaks away to laugh when Qui-Gon lists to the side. He is saved from tipping over by Qui-Gon planting his back against the wall once more.

“You taste like whiskey,” Obi-Wan says, threading his fingers through the soft lengths of Qui-Gon’s hair.

“And you taste like color. Like yellows and oranges and iridescents.”

“How drunk are you?” Obi-Wan laughs. “Will you even be able to get your boots off by yourself?”

“I’m just drunk enough to see the colors of your soul,” Qui-Gon says with far more seriousness than the moment requires. Closing his eyes, Qui-Gon tips his head back and Obi-Wan can’t help but nip at the long line of exposed throat.

In the end, Obi-Wan has to remove Qui-Gon’s boots, kneeling between Qui-Gon’s thighs while the Jedi master perches on the edge of the mattress. To Qui-Gon’s credit, though, he does manage to take the rest of his clothes off with very little assistance.

It’s easy, then, between them: unhurried and languid. Time is a gift that stretches long enough for them to find each other, to touch each other, to kiss each other, and to rock into each other until they fall into stillness—wrapped together and silent.

“I missed you,” Qui-Gon says at last, hand stroking the length of Obi-Wan’s spine.

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan responds, smiling into the dark. “I heard tell of something to that effect.”

#quiobi #qui gon/obi wan #obi-wan/qui-gon #jinnobi #prompt me #tumblr fic

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kbim · 4 years

Text

Every Hero Has Their End(SWF)

During hero training at U.A, Y/N gets a disturbing phone call from home. And Bakugou Katsuki is there to soothe them however he can.

Warnings: Death, Established relationship, Comfort

PSA: I will be trying my best to make this a Gender-neutral and Quirk-Neutral Fic.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28103730/chapters/69066837#workskin

I've found out that the world is the most peaceful whenever I'm training at school; Watching as my classmates shout encouragements to each other, and knowing that right now, we are all oblivious to the chaos and bloodshed happening outside of these gym doors. Oblivious to how fast heroes are losing their grip on what faith the public has in them, and since All Might has stepped down they are losing it even faster.

"Oi, dumbass. You just gonna sit there and mope like an extra or are you gonna let me beat your ass to a pulp?" And this was my favorite part, the unbreakable wall of angry optimism; Bakugou. When I looked to face him he had poor Izuku in a headlock and was practically dragging him on the floor, Izuku was muttering about some kind of suit upgrade or maybe it was All Might? With him, it's always one of the two. "Cause this shitty nerd won't stop holding back."

I quickly flipped bakugou off. "Ya know that you don't need to call everyone names, it just makes you seem more like a kid" As I walked up to the pair I peeled Izuku from Bakugou's grasp, letting him drop to the floor. "And haven't you bullied Izuku enough." I reached my hand out to help him up. As he held onto my hand I could feel Bakugou's glare, he always hated it whenever I did 'relationship things' with other people. Even though this was just me helping the beating bag up.

"Thanks Y/N" Izuku quickly quipped out as he started whipping the dust and dirt off of his hero costume, unaware that he was still holding my hand. I didn't really care, I knew it was just an accident but I could feel Bakugou's glare shift down to where we were touching. He quickly stomped over and grabbed my wrist, ripping ti away from Izuku's.

"Tch. I thought I told you to stop touching TRASH." As Bakugou pulled you towards him he made sure that the last word was directed at Izuku, making sure it came off harsher. Izuku took the hint and left, quickly finding his squad over the other side of the gym. I gave a soft wave in his direction, as I did I could hear Bakugou huff and puff.

"You really need to work on your passiveness, I and Izuku are just friends. You know I have no interest in our class-mates." I patted his chest as I walked by him, going to continue my endurance training. Even though I was daydreaming and not really training, as I kicked at the rouble I made Bakugou came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. placing my arms on top of his I leaned into him. "And don't worry, the term 'Class-mate' extends to all of the other classes as well." That earned a small chuckle from him.

"As your boyfriend, I have the right to mark you as mine, AND to keep shitty nerds away from you." He moved his hands away from me and turned me to face him, as I looked up to him I spotted multiple spots where Izuku had hit him. I would never say it to his face but, Izuku isn't the little weak kid that he knew before U.A. "And anyways I really wanted to fight someone on MY level." At that his face morphed into a large smirk, he grabbed onto my shoulders and threw me to the left. I wasn't prepared for such a movement and landed on my side.

"Dude, WHAT THE FUCK?!" Leaning onto my elbow, I looked at him. "You could at least give me a god damn warning" He quickly stalked over to me and stood over me.

"Nah."

Well, what a wonderful boyfriend... If he wanted a fight I'll give him a fight. I leaned back and kicked my legs up behind him, which kicked him over my head. As my legs held their momentum I flipped over to lay on my hands, laying in a lower push-up position. As he landed on his hands he activated his quirk and flipped to land on his feet unharmed. I went to activate my quirk to push me onto my feet but I found myself unable to use it. When I looked over to Bakugou he was wrapped up in Mr.Aizawa's capture 'scarf'. I got up to walk over to the pair.

"Y/N, you have a phone call. And next time please make sure to silence your cellular device during school, it interrupted my nap." He handed me my phone, which was showing an active call from my mother. "Now please don't make me have to get up again"

As he turned and started walking away he let go of Bakugou and deactivated his own quirk. "THANK YOU SENSAI!" I pulled the phone up to my face and quickly greeted my mother.

"Hey Y/N, h-how are you?" I could hear the presentation in her voice.

"Um, I'm a good mom. Not to rush you but what's with the call during school?"

"*Sigh* Well, I and your father just got the news that..... That ..." I grumbled, she knew not to call me during class and this was just taking too long.

"What do you NEED mom?" Oof, that came out kinda harsh.

"Oh, um. I just wanted to tell you, that. Your brother was fighting a villain downtown, and that. . . The villain delivered an a-a fatal blow to his head. And t-that when the other h-heros f-f-found him he w-was pronounced d-d-d-dead on arrival."

I heard my phone hit the ground, and I could feel myself drop to my knees. I don't recall telling my body to do so but my hand slapped over my mouth as I started sobbing. This couldn't be true, my elder brother had just gotten out of hero school and was fighting with the pros. They couldn't have failed him like that.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As Y/N was on the phone Kirishima had walked over to me, scolding me for the 'unmanly' move I pulled on Y/N. Saying a true man doesn't attack like that. I didn't care too much about it, in the heat of battle, a hero does everything they can to stop the villain. He doesn't have to be manly about it, he just has to get the job done. As I peaked around Shitty Hair I could see you drop your phone and fall onto your knees. Tears were streaming down your face, I could hear the muffled sobs from all the way over here.

As I grabbed Shitty Hair's shoulder a pushed him to the side, with much less force as when I did it to you earlier. I couldn't control what pace I was going at but I felt my feet hit the ground as I ran towards you. When I got closer to you I slid onto my knees to slow myself down, it was quite effective If I must say.

"Y/N?! What's wrong? Why are you crying?!" I pulled you into my chest and reached for your phone. The screen was cracked but I could still see the call active. I brought it up to my face. "Who are you and what the hell did you say to Y/N?!"

"I-i'm their mother, and I-I h-had informed them t-t-that their brot-t-ther had d-d-died in combat with a v-vll--ian today." Oh Shit. I hung up the phone and wrapped my arms around y/n, they sobbed into my hero suit. When the others run up around us I tightened my grip onto y/n.

"As the class rep, I deserve to know when one of our classmates are in trouble" "Bakugou! What's wrong with y/n?" "Did they get hurt?" "Oh shit man" "What should we do? "What happened?" "Kacchan What happened? "I bet Bakugou said something to them." "Ribbit, I'll get Mr. Aizawa"

"Back the FUCK off, they brother just fucking died man." y/n tensed up and started sobbing louder. I followed my brow and squeezed them. "Shit" I moved you to rest against my chest sideways and moved my arm to hold your bridal style. I stood up and pushed through the extras and made my way towards the gym doors. I could feel their tears soaking my suit, they gripped and released the loose cloth as a stepped through the doors. I could hear the others call after me but I had to intention of stopping for them.

When I got up from my room at the dorms and placed them down onto the bed. As I laid down next to them I covered us both with the blankets.

#mha bakugou #bakugou #bakugou bnha #katsuki bakugō #katsuki x female reader #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou x reader

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youarejesting · 4 years

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BTS Among US.3

Summary: You have a crew of 11, well now 10. The captain has been killed. Whatever it is doesn’t appear to be human but from the evidence you gathered, whatever it is, is pretending to be one of you. Who is it and why? Rating: T (teen and up) Genre: Murder mystery, supernatural, comedy, angst, action, adventure and more. Schedule: Updates every FRIDAY EST./SATURDAY AEST. please get your VOTES completed before Saturday or your bias may be kicked off the ship. Anouncements: Sorry this wasn’t out on Friday/Saturday my life is honestly in shambles haha like today couldn’t get any worse. but on the bright side this one is long almost 2k.

The next morning saw Jimin in the cafeteria lined up with his tray in hand, you felt a little reassured after yesterday that he was not the imposter. The two of you had no trouble talking freely through your headsets while waiting in line for breakfast. Hoseok in his red suit rushed out of the cafeteria so quickly that the cutlery on his tray rattled. Across the room, the doors to the cafeteria opened and a figure in a purple suit entered elaborately with a party hat on.

“Jungkook what are you wearing?” You laughed as he struck a pose for you.

“I was bored and tried to spice up my suit,” His voice leaked through your headset. You were almost at the front of the line when you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning to see the pink suit standing behind you.

“I hope you don’t mind, I joined your channel, I just wanted to talk?” Seokjin’s voice was its usual breathy tone, “I just was wondering, I have to fix the faulty wiring today since captain cyan is gone. I was wondering if I could go with you it’s kind of nerve-racking moving around on your own, and electrical is a scary place, I wouldn’t mind having someone watch my back”

“Uh, yeah of course” You were nervous, the same way you were nervous around Jimin. You retrieved your breakfast and headed out to the Admin you scanned. You had to scan your ID every morning and download your daily files. This was a task everyone did every day, Jimin stepped up to the ID machine and while you all stood waiting behind him, you noticed you didn’t hear the signature beep.

Had he forgotten his ID card? You pondered this thought making a note to address it at the meeting if needed as it was suspicious behavior. But you had been with him just yesterday so sure if he wanted you dead he could have killed you when you were getting your medscan.

Taking your breakfast down the hall and into your office you placed everything onto your empty desk and popped off your helmet. It was nice to feel the artificial air on your face, something you never would think you would find such a luxury.

Taking a deep breath you began uploading the files onto your computer and waiting for them to upload before setting the updated flight pattern, the pattern was still the same and instructions were similar to the day before. Shoveling in your breakfast, you got a quick call from Seokjin. Securing your helmet back in place you answered quickly trying not to cause suspicion.

“Hello, Seokjin this is Y/n how can I help?” It was your typical greeting hoping the familiarity would put him at ease.

“Hi, I was wondering if you had finished breakfast and wanted to join me?” His voice was nervous. “It’s just since captain cyan is gone, I have been taking over some of his jobs”

“Of course, where should we meet?” You asked, gathering your things, hoping you could hand back your tray to the cafeteria.

“Well, we could meet at electrical but I will have to put back my tray” Seokjin sighed as you heard a small clatter of cutlery on the tray through your headpiece.

“I will meet you in the cafeteria, I also have to return my tray” You walked up the corridor passing by Hoseok’s office, knocking on his door hoping to see the young man. The doors opened and Hoseok shuffled cautiously in his suit, you gestured with three fingers it was the channel you favored and he switched quickly, “Hey Hobi, can I return your tray?”

He confirmed handing over his leftover things from breakfast, you tried to give him a reassuring thumbs-up, knowing there wasn’t much else you could say that hadn’t already been said. He gave a weak thumbs-up back still appearing timid and the tiniest “Thank you”

You were unsure if the thank you was regarding the tray or the fact you hadn’t killed him. Shrugging it was something you wouldn’t allow yourself to dwell on, that would only lead to paranoia and impulsive acts.

You met Seokjin in the cafeteria and the two of you handed over your breakfast trays. “Are you ready?” Seokjin asked, looking at the instructions on the device in his hands. “We just have to fix a few broken wires”

The two of you made it as far as the electrical room before you were cackling and making puns, Jimin passed by holding what appeared to be one of Hoseok’s potted plants from O2 and the two of you waved at him as he passed.

The electrical room was creepy and you couldn’t help eye the vent on the floor, wondering if whatever it was imitating one of your crewmates would jump out. The two of you were fixing the wiring, still making puns, and talking about food. You were in the middle of connecting the first wire when the lights went out.

Seokjin stopped digging through his tool belt and found a torch for you to continue working. “That may have been our fault” He laughed looking around at the wires curious for any bad connections.

You tried to focus on the wires, trying to ignore the shifting shadows around you, the obscure shapes, and the faint creaks that echoed in from strange parts of the ship that you could have sworn were the vents. You instead tried to focus on leading the wire from where it had broken over to the other side making the necessary repairs.

At some point, your hands stopped shaking, and you were diligently working not allowing yourself to think beyond the wires in the wall. It was better this way, you found if you blocked everything out you would be

Between connecting the second and third wire you heard footsteps in the corridor. Turning and pointing the flashlight towards the doorway, you see a figure pass only noticing a party hat and the soft creak of a vent. “Jin I think Jungkook just walked past?”

“We should follow him?” Jin mumbled, moving to the door and peeked his head out, looking around after him “What is he doing down here, he should be in upper engines”

You had to still fix the wires and handed the torch to Seokjin to hold, freeing up both hands to reconnect them. Hoping that if it was your mistake for the lights being out that you could fix the problem quickly.

There was a clatter outside and Seokjin turned torch pointed at the door, he was visibly shaking as he stepped in front of you. “Can I get everyone’s location?” Namjoon asked, there was a pause before people began giving their location and company.

“Uh we are in…” You focused on the lights it was important you fixed the, with the last wire connected the lights coming back on. You whipped back around to see Seokjin clutching the torch still pointed at the empty door and looking out into the hall. He whispered quietly “I thought I saw something”

A scream rips through your headsets and you felt your blood run cold. Between gasps brown, one of your best friends said, “Hoseok’s dead.”

All of the crewmates rushed into the security office run by Jung Hoseok. Yoongi barged past those in the doorway effectively pushing you into Namjoon’s strong chest to see Hoseok's body torn in half and left on the floor.

“No no no, we were just talking, this can’t be real” Yoongi shook his hands curling into fists he frowned “I was just talking to him over our headset, he said he saw purple and brown, it has to be one of them?”

“Whoever did this, I will kill you,” his voice was furious but broke into a small sob. Jimin bent down to check Hoseok’s pockets. As his form lowered you could see behind him on the desk was the pot Jimin had been carrying earlier that day.

“I’m not accusing anyone but I saw Hoseok this morning, I asked him to return his breakfast tray, but Seokjin and I saw Jimin carrying that potted plant which is now on his desk.” You tried to keep your voice level and passive “That and when scanning our ID this morning Jimin’s didn’t beep meaning he didn’t swipe a card”

“I left him alive ages ago and Yoongi said the two were just talking and Hoseok mentioned purple and brown, I actually had my card but it was inside my suit and we can’t take them off in the event of a breach,” Jimin said calmly, he understood your point of few even if you were accusing him. Pulling a notebook from the chest pocket of the top half of Hoseok, he flicked through it. “I think you should read this”

You took the notebook and frowned. “They move through the vents and can see in the dark. DON’T TRUST ANYONE”

“We need to look at the blueprints of the ship to know what vents connect where” Namjoon said “Maybe then we can pinpoint who had access to Hoseok’s office”

“I was with Green we were discussing the samples taken from the last planet, we believe one of the objects we obtained has gone missing,” Orange explained “We were in storage moving to the cafeteria when we received the call”

“Seokjin and I were in the electrical, we were reconnecting wires when the power went off, I thought I saw Jungkook in his party hat walk past the door he could have come down from security through the lower engines after killing Hoseok.” You explained casually still not trying to appear too defensive.

“I was in O2” Yoongi explained, no one had seen or heard from him but he was the last person to hear from Hoseok before he died. Namjoon was also apparently alone in the admin without any witness’. “It’s a bit suspicious that he asked where everyone was when the lights went out as if perhaps he was trying to find who was alone and vulnerable.”

“Okay green and orange can vouch for each other and white and I can vouch for one another” Jin gestured to you the collective nods around the table “Black was alone as was blue and that leaves brown, yellow, and purple.”

“I was in medbay with yellow, Jimin asked me to do a medscan while I was being scanned. Jungkook stepped into the room, saw us both, and turned to leave.” Brown gestured across the table at Jungkook “That’s a bit suspicious”

“I went to see Jimin, he wanted me to do a medscan but I saw he was already busy doing a medscan and thought I would come back later when the power went out.” Jungkook huffed at the accusation of being called suspicious.

“We have to vote,” Orange said, taking charge, “we can’t be here all day waiting for another death?”

“Please keep in mind the incidents and comments addressed within the previous meeting. As you take your vote.” Namjoon added his voice lethargic.

Pieces of paper were handed around the table.

[VOTE HERE]

I changed the way the voting was conducted so now you will vote at the end of every chapter and the results will be the first thing in the next chapter. Vote to save your bias and expose the imposter before its too late.

[Masterlist] [Tag yourself] [Next]

@juniethebug @bts-cult @tellmeyoulovemepls @taevkimchi @lovelyseomin @rosita7703

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sugamoonv · 5 years

Text

I’ll Still Stay

Hello! Can I please request a Poly!Mate Hybrid!BTS OT7 x Mate human!female reader imagine where she goes to the shelter, planning on adopting one hybrid, but then when she sees how badly the poor hybrids are treating, she ends up bringing home 7 hybrids (BTS). BTS are all each other’s mate and see that she’s there mate too. She takes care of them and they take care of her, lots of love to go around! All 8 fall in love! They are all very protective of her + hugs + kisses + cuddles and love.💜🤟

Pairings: Hybrid!BTS x Reader/ OT7 x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Preface: Wolf Hybrid!Namjoon / Rottweiler Hybrid!Jimin / Siamese Hybrid!Yoongi / Golden Retriever Hybrid!Taehyung / Bear Hybrid!Jin / Bunny Hybrid!Jungkook / Red Fox Hybrid!Hoseok

A.N: I know this took a while, so I hope it’s good. I may have turned this request into a gateway for a series/multipart because I love poly hybrid fics. So yeah- here’s the first installment.

Masterlist > Next

“I’m going to adopt a hybrid.”

Your friend's eyes widen and they scramble as they get out of their chair to follow you.

“Wait, what? Now?!”

“Yeah. Why Not?” you look at Hoshi with innocent eyes as you grab your jacket from the hanger rack in the entrance of the office you work in. Small conversations and the clicking of keyboards play over yours’ and Hoshi’s conversation.

“Because we’re still at work? And you literally just decided you wanted a hybrid. Are you even ready for one?”

The company you worked for paid its employees well, especially those that specialized in specific sectors. You and Hoshi worked in public relations and as younger employees, you were in charge of helping create ads that appealed to your age group. It was a difficult company to get hired into and was still competitive while working, but was one of the most lucrative jobs available where you lived, and because of this, that meant that most of the people here had lots of disposable money. A majority of them eventually decided their extra money would be best going to getting a hybrid and now you were joining the ranks.

“Chill. I haven’t used any sick days in months, so I doubt they’re really going to get mad if I leave early today,” you negate as you shrug on your jacket. “Vernon told me about this really nice adoption center he got Dino at and he said that lately, they’ve been getting a lot of hybrids. So I figured I might as well go now.”

Hoshi sucks in air between his teeth. “Fine, but if you get in trouble with Mark, that’s on you-”

“Obviously.”

Hoshi’s eyebrows straighten as he tilts his head and gives you a deadpan look. “IF you really are serious about this, there’s a couple of non-profit shelters that you can go to too. And I’ve been hearing that a lot of people are putting their hybrids up for adoption to get new ones. Go to one of the shelters and save money by adopting a hybrid. It’s going to be better considering you’ve never had a hybrid before and the hybrids at the shelters won’t need as much adjusting to having an owner.”

It was true. The adoption centers that typically ran for profit offered hybrids that were fresh out of training school and had never had an owner before. There were even a few places that had hybrids under 18 for adoption for those that weren’t able to conceive and wanted to raise a child.

You nod, “Gotcha,’”.

You beam at Hoshi, “Next time you see me, I’m going to be a hybrid owner.”

“I’m already praying for the hybrid.”

You slightly glance at the GPS mounted to the dashboard of your car as it gives you the next direction. You still had put in the address from the place Vernon recommended but as you pulled up to the red light, Hoshi’s advice mulled about in your head. You tapped your fingers on the steering wheel before curling them around the wheel and squeezing. You stared at the GPS screen, gnawing on your bottom lip.

You jump as the person behind you lays on their horn, tearing you away from your inner thoughts. The light has turned green and the lane beside you has already cleared so you press on the gas. There’s a small gas station that you pull into. You ignore your GPS repeatedly telling you to make a U-turn as you search for the nearest adoption center and upon finding one, you input the new address into the GPS and begin driving again.

From first glance you can tell this place doesn’t have much funding. The parking lot is all gravel and the grass away from the actual building is overgrown and has been left to its own devices. In the lot, the large adoption building stands alone with its dull paint, broken concrete sidewalk, and faded wooden pillars, making it look lonely. There are only a few other cars parked alongside you, most likely the employees.

The receptionist looks as though this is the last place when you walk into the building. There’s a man in a stained, muscle shirt waiting in the seated area. His stomach slightly pouches and the skin visible shows the sun and age has not been favorable to him.

“Can I help you?” The receptionist has noticed your presence and addresses you.

You give a polite smile and step up to the desk. “Hi. I’m looking to adopt.”

The receptionist clicks on their computer, “Do you have an appointment?”

“Oh! Uh- No, I don’t.” You try to sound positive though you’re sure the dismay sneaks into your voice.

“Okay, that’s fine. Go have a seat and someone will be out shortly,” they say all without taking their eyes off of the computer screen.

You twist your upper body to look at the seats where the man is. The building itself is huge, but most of the space must be dedicated to housing the hybrids because there are only at most ten chairs bunched together.

The sound from your heels on the linoleum floor draws the man’s attention to you and you ignore the way his eyes scan over you. You nearly bolt out of the door to go to upscale hybrid adoption center like you originally planned, but the corkboard on the wall with pictures of hybrids smiling with their owners as they’re freshly adopted catches your eye and you hesitantly sit.

The man sighs and shifts in his seat. “How much longer are they going to be?” he loudly calls out to the receptionist.

“It shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“Bastards took my damn hybrid and I’m trying to get him back.”

You peek up from your phone to see that the man is talking to you. Your cheeks blush and you shuffle back in the chair and cross your right leg over the left. “I’m sorry.”

He rubs his hand over his face, “Yeah, been waiting for a little over an hour and they still have yet to bring him out.”

It’s twenty minutes before anyone comes into the waiting room. At the door opening, both you and the man looked over to see two guards escorting a hybrid out. The man stands and speedily walks over to them. The hybrid flinches in the guards' hold but says nothing as the man throws his arms over his shoulders and pulls him into a hug.

You’re too distracted to see the woman standing by your chair at first. When you finally so take notice of her, she gives you a kind smile and holds out a hand for you to shake.

“Hello. You’re here to adopt?”

You nod.

“Fantastic! If you just follow me to the back, I’m going to ask you a few questions and have you fill out some paperwork and then I can show you some hybrids.”

You gather your jacket and bag from the chair next to the one you were sitting in and follow behind her.

Nervous energy bubbles in your chest as you hear the chatter from the hybrids growing louder as the woman leads you into the housing section of the center. The rooms are set up in rows, similar to a prison where you can look into the rooms through the glass windows in the door. As you glance in the rooms, you mainly see the hybrids laying in their bed, finding ways to busy themselves. You stop when you reach a portion that opens up to accommodate lunchroom style tables and two food serving stations and sit at one of the tables, the metal cool beneath your legs.

“So, most of the hybrids we have here are older but we do have a few in your age range.” The woman shuffles through a pile of paper shes brought with her. “Is gender something important to you?”

“Um, no.”

“Oh that's good!” the woman seems relieved. “I will go get the first hybrid for you.”

You watch her walk off, left alone at the table with the papers. Part of you is curious to see what is written on them but you know it’s not your place to creep. Instead, you get up from the bench and walk to one side of the room to glance into the bunks. There are a few that are empty and as you walk down the line, the hybrids in the room, at most, glance at you passively before returning to their book or falling back asleep. All but one.

His hair is pitch black and it weren’t for his tail, you would be questioning if he was even a hybrid because his ears blend in with the rest of his hair. You can tell his hair is knotted and the plain clothes on him are baggy and loose. As you look in, he turns in his bed from having his knees to hugged into his chest to having one hanging off and the other tucked under him. The breath is knocked from you when you see how beautiful he is; a button nose paired with plush lips, round cheeks, and almond eyes.

His head tilts as he observes you back and he carefully steps from the bed and walks to the window. Your heart starts racing when his face comes directly in front of the window so the only thing separating you is the smudged glass. His eyes widen and he brings a hand up to the window, pressing his palm into it and you see his ears perk up.

“Y/N?”

You’re head snaps in the direction from which you’re called and you lower your hand. The woman’s returned and standing next to her is a hybrid. The hybrid’s hair is as dark as the hybrid’s you were just looking at, though this one’s ears stand straight from his head and have a slight point rather than drooping flat. You can also see the hybrid’s long tail behind him as he keeps his head down. You look back when there’s a whimper from the hybrid in the room you’re walking away from and when you look back at the hybrid being presented to you, he’s looking directly at you.

“This is Min Yoongi. He is a Siamese, twenty-six, and he’s had three previous owners. He IS older than you but I believe he should be a good fit for your particular lifestyle.”

You watched Yoongi the entire time the woman was speaking and couldn’t help but notice the way his jaw clenched at the mention of his previous owners. His tail was also rapidly swishing back and forth, slow enough for you to catch a glimpse of a bald patch on the underside.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you politely smile at Yoongi. His eyes are transfixed on yours and despite his wide pupils showing his excitement, he keeps a scowl on his face.

“His name is Jimin.” Yoongi carefully watches as your brows furrow in confusion. “The hybrid you were talking to, his name is Park Jimin.”

“Min Yoongi, that’s enough,” the woman interjects through gritted teeth.

“If you’re going to adopt a hybrid, adopt him, or Jungkook or Taehyung. Not me,” Yoongi says with complete conviction and at the mention of Jimin, you look over your shoulder at the door to said hybrid’s bunk. Now that you listen closely, you can hear a quiet whimpering coming from his direction.

“Min Yoongi!” The woman explosively reaches out and yanks on Yoongi’s ear. He loudly yelps and scurries on the bench away from her and the whimpering from the door becomes louder as Jimin begins kicking the door.

“Hey!” You’re half standing in the bench now, leaning your body over the table as you try to put your arm in front of Yoongi as protection.

Footsteps indicate that a few guards are approaching and one has taken to banging on Jimin’s door with a baton as a warning. Yoongi’s eyes are focused behind you on Jimin’s door but as two guards grow closer to you, his lips pull up in a snarl, ears completely flat against his head and the hair on his tail standing straight up.

“Stay away from them,” Yoongi hisses.

And they do. The guards instead walk around the table and roughly grab each of Yoongi’s arms and hoist him up before beginning to drag him off. You lock eyes with Yoongi as he looks back at you, getting further away but you’re too in shock to interject and a few moments after he’s gone from sight, you hear the slamming of a door.

The woman clears her throat, “I apologize for him. I thought he had learned that he should never try to sway potential owners but it seems I was wrong. He’s usually not aggressive and we will make sure he never behaves in that manner again.”

You just now look at her.

She smooths her clothes as though she was the one dragged off. “Now, I have another hybrid I can show you and I can assure you that he will be far more pleasant-”

“I want to see Jungkook and Taehyung,” you cut her off with a steely gaze.

Her lips thin and her nostrils flare. “Jungkook and Taehyung are both unavailable due to some misconduct, but we do have some other lovely hybrids. If you are interested in adopting in pairs, I can show you our predator hybrids, Seokjin, and Namjoon who are both mature and would also be a good fit for your home.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek as you contemplate your next move. Yoongi seemed so concerned about the two hybrids but the woman is most likely not going to give in and allow you to see them, and she’s the only one here that can ensure you don’t walk out of here alone. One last glance at Jimin’s door to see him shyly looking through the window quells any doubts you have that make you want to leave. If you were able to help one hybrid leave this place, then you felt that was worth it, and so you nod.

There are far more guards in the section that the predator hybrids are housed in. There are also bars on the windows of their doors and instead of the conversations you overheard in the last place, it’s deadly silent.

The woman gestures to the guards standing by the door and the one by the handle pounds on the door twice with his fist before opening it. One hybrid is sitting at a small desk with a book in his hands and the other is standing behind him and turns from the window looking outside to you as you walk in. Both of the hybrids ears perk up as their eyes scan over you.

As soon as you fully step into the room, there’s a series of clicks and grunts coming from the older looking hybrid with the round ears and stubbed tail. He lowers his head and steps away from you before completely lowering himself to the ground. Your eyes are on him so you don’t see the other hybrid until he bumps his body into yours, sending you stumbling and he follows to nuzzle his nose into your neck. A bright red colors your cheeks and your heart leaps into your throat.

“It seems they’ve both taken a liking to you.” The woman’s tone somehow sounds sarcastic. “The wolf hybrid is Namjoon,” she flicks her hand at the hybrid now whining into your neck, “and the bear is Seokjin.”

Namjoon becomes lost in his own ministrations and grabs your waist to pull you closer causing you to gasp in shock and the for the guards to come into the room. At the sight of them, Jin begins huffing and stands, puffing out his chest to seem bigger.

“Why don’t we go look at some other hybrids?”

Jin makes a deep noise in the back of his throat that sounds similar to a growl when the guards step forward and pry Namjoon from you. Namjoon bares his teeth at them and his ears lower back but he remains compliant. Both of their eyes are pleading as you follow the woman back out of the room and you find yourself feeling guilty for walking away from another hybrid.

The next room is right next door to Namjoon’s and Jin’s, though there’s only one person occupying the space.

The orange haired hybrid doesn’t look up when you enter the room, focusing on folding the white clothes perfectly. His room is the cleanest you’ve seen so far, both of the beds are made and the sheets are straightened so there are no wrinkles and the pillows are fluffed, his tennis sneakers are tucked neatly next to his desk which has a neat stack of papers on top, pencils lying to the side.

“This is our red fox hybrid, Hoseok. He would normally have a roommate, but we had to let the other hybrid go, unfortunately.”

Hoseok lifts his head at the woman talking and his whole body stiffens. His hands pause folding mid-air as he assesses the situation with a cautious demeanor. He’s intimidating, even when his face breaks out into a grin and he bounces over to you.

His large hands cup yours and bring them up between your bodies. “Are you here to adopt?!” Hoseok’s eyes light up as he excitedly asks you the question. His personality is infectious so you find that despite the way your heart pounds in your chest, you’re smiling along with him.

“I am.”

If it’s even possible, Hoseok’s smile grows larger. The glow of his skin and the whiteness of his teeth are almost blinding.

Hoseok brings your hand up to his face and leaves a few gentle nips on the inside of your wrist. “You’ve already met Yoongi, Jin, and Namjoon.” You feel his lips curl upwards on the delicate skin of your wrist. “If you don’t adopt me, I hope you adopt one of them,” he stares into your eyes with a soft intensity.

You swallow heavily and you pray that he doesn’t feel your hands becoming clammy. You faintly hear the woman call out Hoseok’s name in warning but both of you ignore her as you keep your eyes locked. And at long last, you exhale a shaky breath and gently remove your wrist from Hoseok’s hand and look away. Your cheeks feel warm so you’re sure he can tell the effect he has on you.

“Hoseok has had three previous owners. The last was actually an instructor at a well-known dance academy, so he is technically trained if you’re looking for a hybrid that’s able to provide entertainment for yourself or any guests you may have.”

The woman gives you the rundown of Hoseok’s past like she’s done with every hybrid you’ve seen. Namjoon and Jin have both only had one owner and were put up for adoption because they were getting too old. You’ve spent nearly four hours listening to her speak about different hybrids and following her from room to room, and though your heart goes to all of the hybrids you’ve seen, only Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Jin, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook stay on your mind, even though you haven’t met the former two.

You stare at the single adoption form in front of you pinned to the clipboard in your lap, pen in your hand. The main lobby is empty and there’s a different receptionist than the one from when you arrived. The setting sun casts the chairs in a golden hue. Most of the form is filled out though your pen hovers above the line asking for the name of the hybrid.

You rest the pen in your fingers and look up from the paper, eyebrows upturned and you continuously glance over at the receptionist working before you make your decision and walk over to them.

“Hi! All set?” the receptionist pleasantly asks.

“Uh-” you place your elbow onto the tall desk and gingerly scratch the bridge of your nose, “No actually. Is there a way I can get six more adoption forms?”

A single person is legally allowed to own up to twelve hybrids at a time.

The receptionist's eyes widen. “Umm, I’m...not...sure,” they answer uncertain, “Let me go talk to my boss and I’ll get back to you, okay?”

“There’s no need to do that,” you muster up a smile to seem convincing, “We already talked about it and said it would be alright.”

The receptionist hesitantly sits back down, looking warily at you and for a second, you think that they’re able to see through your bluff but luck is on your side because they spin to the filing cabinet and pull out extra adoption papers to your request. You quietly thank them and rush back to your chair to fill them out.

The sun had completely set by the time the receptionist puts all of the paperwork you filled out through the system and now you wait impatiently for your hybrids to be escorted to you. Your leg bounces nervously and your eyes never once leave the door. You hold your breath when the door clicks as it’s opened.

Jimin is the first to walk through the door, his tail wagging fast behind him and he slips from the guards escorting him and jogs over to you. His cheeks swell with the smile he has on his face. He hugs your entire arm to his chest and rests his cheek on your shoulder.

The others were in single file behind him, starting with Yoongi and then a hybrid with pure blonde hair, Jin, Namjoon, Hoseok, and finally a bunny hybrid with large ears and hazelnut brown hair. What baffles you is the handcuffs around the wrists of the bunny hybrid. You curiously watch as one of the guards removes the cuffs and the hybrid rubs his wrist and rolls them to crack them. There’s a faint brush of pink upon his cheekbones and his ears twitch when he looks at you and he shuffles so he’s half hiding behind Hoseok.

Yoongi’s looking at you in shock and you find him completely adorable with the way his eyes are big and vulnerable and how his lips form a pout. Namjoon’s tail is wagging behind him yet his face is neutral and Jin steps beside him, lips pressed together to contain his smile. The blonde hybrid that you’re not sure is Taehyung or Jungkook, has a scowl on his face but one ear is raised in interest.

“Ready to go to your new home?” You try to not let your nerves seep through your voice. Jimin’s tail thumps on the back of your leg.

“Did you really adopt all of us?” Yoongi is scared and hopeful all at once. You’re standing in front of him, one of his loves latched to your side and your sweet scent faintly mixes with Jimin’s and Namjoon’s before meeting his nose. He can tell the others are just as affected as him because he’s only ever seen them react the same when they met each other upon first arriving in the shelter.

“If that’s alright with you?”

You’re terrified. You have no idea if they will get along; if they even know each other. As your heart starts racing and your throat closes up, Taehyung bounds over to you at Jimin whining, a similar noise being vocalized.

Taehyung has his ears lowered and tail tucked in submission in front of you, peeking up at you with big eyes. You want to feel the locks on his head despite the tangles and flecks of dirt, the wavier hair that covers his ears. You’re not given a choice because Taehyung nudges his head into your stomach and your hand reflexively comes up to Taehyung’s head as one foot goes back to catch you.

“Please take me home.”

Tags: @detectivebourbon @omgsuperstarg

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princegabriel · 4 years

Photo

Someone requested Don’t Let Them See You Cry with Buddy. I didn’t take down your name, I’m sorry! If this was your request and you want to be tagged, please let me know and also sorry this took so long! Thank you for the prompt! @badthingshappenbingo

If You’re Alive

by princegabriel/ FaintlyMacabre

Rated: T

Characters: Buddy Aurinko, Jet Sikuliaq

CW: Both active and passive suicidal ideation is discussed, though only briefly. This takes place both before and after Buddy's surgery to replace her eye, hence the tags for eye trauma and surgery. Nothing darker or more violent than in canon, but please be aware if you find these subjects triggering.

Her head felt stuffed full of cotton when she awoke amidst beeping machines. She blinked and it felt wrong. On her right side she felt the glide of eyelid over eye but on her left she felt no such thing. She’d known, of course, what this surgery was for and what it would entail, but she still had to fight a wave of panic rising in her stomach. She touched a hand to the bandage and she could feel the tiny vibration of an aperture opening and closing.

At this, she felt tears sting her remaining organic eye. It was all over now: her days of quiet self-destruction, her days of waiting for someone who would never come home. She would never stop hoping, of course, but it would be the kind of hope that would be interred somewhere deep, present but never blooming.

“Buddy.” His voice came from her left, which must have been why she hadn’t noticed him.

She turned away. “Yes, darling?”

“How are you feeling?”

The laugh she choked out was watery, much more fragile than she would have liked. “Oh, right as rain, at least until the painkillers wear off.” Lying down was about what her energy level afforded, but she wanted to curl up in a ball, make herself a smaller target for whatever hurt would come next. Make her tears less obvious.

“Would you like some help?”

She would not, but she had to admit that in her current state, sitting up on her own would tire her out enough that she’d just have to lie down again. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

He came around to the right side of the bed and pulled her up easily; when she started to sway, he sat down next to her to let her lean on his shoulder. At least he was on her left. Could she still cry on that side? It seemed unlikely but she didn’t know.

“It’s laughably inadequate, but I believe I should thank you,” she said, just about getting her voice not to shake.

“I do not believe ‘should’ comes into it,” he said. “Change is difficult, and if you do not thank me I will not hold it against you.”

“No? Well, that’s no good.” She was trying so hard to sound steady, but her resolve was stretched almost to breaking. “I think I’d rather you get angry at me.”

“I am sorry to disappoint you,” was all he said. It hadn’t been 48 hours since he’d hauled her down from the top of the lighthouse, but already that span of time felt longer than the two years they’d known each other.

---

She didn’t look up until his shadow fell over her. Even then, it took a second.

“Ves—“ It wasn’t Vespa. “I know you—”

“Yes,” he said. “The bar is usually open by now.”

“High stakes to brave for a drink,” she said. She couldn’t remember his name, but she also couldn’t summon the energy to worry about that. “Sorry, darling, but I don’t think we’ll be opening today.”

“I expect not,” the mountain of a man standing over her said. “I would be very interested to know why you are up here if you would like to tell me, but that can wait. Will you come back down the lighthouse?”

“No, thank you,” she said. “I’m waiting.”

“Whomever or whatever you are waiting for, you will be better able to receive them if you are not dead. Please come back down.”

“Listen very carefully, because I’m only going to say this once,” she said. She tried to stand, realized she couldn’t, and decided that remaining seated would better underline her point. “I am staying here, and while I can’t make you leave, I’d enjoy my wait better if you were elsewhere.”

“All right, I will leave.” Before she could enjoy her victory, huge hands were scooping her up and depositing her on a huge shoulder. “You are coming with me. At least, until we get back to the ground.”

“Put me down!” she tried to shout, but it just came out a rasp. She pounded his back with her fists, but while the impacts reverberated through her hands and arms, he didn’t seem to feel them at all.

“I will put you down once we are back on ground level,” he boomed in a voice she could feel through the not-yet-ruined side of her face and torso. She wanted to scream, but her throat closed up, and all she could do was watch the steps climb up and away from them, up to the place where she needed to be.

Later, when he’d repaired the door and she, with shaking hands, had made them both tea, he told her about the eye he wanted to give her, and she asked him:

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you do this for someone you hardly know?" she said. "Why do it at all? I can count on one hand the people I’d do this for, and I wouldn’t even need the other four fingers.”

“Perhaps you do not remember the first night you saw me in your bar.”

“I believe I’d find it exceedingly difficult to forget a patron who seemed just as likely to shoot themselves as me.”

“Hmm. Then you do not understand the value I now place on my own life.”

“You had a gun to your head, darling,” she said. “I talked you down. This hardly compares.”

“No? I very nearly shot both you and myself,” he said. “You acted at great personal risk; no amount of money can compare to that. And while it is true that it would only have taken one shot to end my life forever, I was killing myself with the choices I made every day. To me, the circumstances are more similar than not.” He took a sip of his tea. “Also, my acquaintance with you is the closest relationship I currently have.”

Buddy blinked. “You—”

“I do not wish to discuss this now,” he said, looking up at her again. His face softened almost imperceptibly. “Later, I would like to tell you, if you still want to know.”

Buddy felt the weight of this statement as though he was handing her a tray of cut crystal or a sleeping child, the trust in his voice making her aware of both the risk and the gift. “I would,” she said, finally. He nodded.

She’d been there when he’d sold the car. This was a slow and painful process for both of them. She almost wanted to insist that he call it off, this was too much, not worth it, but it was done by the time she'd mustered the energy to say, "Don't."

The rest, from the start of their motorcycle ride to the moment she began counting back from 100, was lost to the anesthesia.

---

“There’s no going back, is there.” It wasn’t a question. She was sitting on a hospital bed, tethered to machines, a new device in her skull, leaning both literally and figuratively on someone who hadn’t even told her his name.

“There never is,” he said. “The choices we have made, and the choices that were made for us, are no longer accessible. It can feel… paralyzing. But as a wise woman once said to me, ‘if you are alive, you might as well live.’”

Hearing her own words being given back to her, nearly two years after she’d given them to him, somehow made her laugh, and once she began laughing she could not keep from crying. She made a valiant effort; pressing the heel of her hand into her right eye, holding her breath, tipping her head back and losing her balance. He caught her again, this time keeping an arm around her as she shook through the tears. The wail that tore itself from her throat made her think of a wild animal in pain. She hadn’t allowed herself to cry like this since… Well. Since Vespa. Buddy supposed it was fitting; in this moment, it felt as though she'd lost her all over again.

“There is something else I would like to tell you,” the man said, once the sobs that wracked her body had quieted.

“What’s that?” she rasped out. The crying had taken a lot out of her, and she felt ready to sleep for a week. Maybe she would.

He glanced over his shoulder at the door, which was still closed. “Sikuliaq,” he said. “My name is Jet Sikuliaq.”

News bulletins flashed through her mind about the Unnatural Disaster and his crimes, the hunt for a killer. Pieces slid into place, and she turned to look at him for the first time since he’d sat down next to her. He was sitting very still, facing the opposite wall, as though he knew exactly what she was thinking and was afraid of her reaction.

“Well, Jet Sikuliaq,” she said, turning back to face the same wall, “your friend sounds like she knew what she was talking about.”

She could feel some of the tension leave him, and they sat for a while, exhausted and battered and very much alive.

#bad things happen bingo #the penumbra podcast #this took a super long time so I get it if you're skeptical but I'm still taking prompts!#buddy aurinko #jet siquliak

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hurt-spock · 4 years

Text

Fic: Lava 1/?

He couldn't breath.

The fingers around his throat, restricting his air flow made sure of that. They dug into his flesh and even as he slid to the floor, there was no let up. The pressure was intense. His attacker loomed over him, his dark eyes staring blankly at him.

He clawed at the hands around him, desperate to just draw in a breath before he inevitably passed out.

He was pulled over onto the ground and his attacker straddled him, allowing him to push his weight down onto him. He knew then that in a matter of second his windpipe would be crushed, he didn't have a chance.

“Spock!” he dimly heard as the blood pumped loudly in his ears. “God, Bones!!!!” the same voice said.

One hand grasped at the cold fingers on his throat and the other flailed around for something, anything, to save him. Something hit his hand and he grasped it. He struck his attacker with it, surprised when he moved his arm back and hot liquid spat in his face.

He gasped away, coughing for the oxygen he needed. Needed.

“It was just a dream,” he muttered to himself as he staggered out of bed and went into the bathroom and splashed some water on his face. He took some deep breaths and dried his face before catching a glimpse of the all too real bruises that stared back at him.

He shivered and walked away from the reminder that his dream had been all too real a couple of days ago.

He went back into the bedroom and looked at the time. It wasn't even 4am yet.

He left his quarters and headed down towards sickbay. He veered off into his office at the last minute, remembering who was still in sickbay.

Once in, he checked the computers, just to make sure he hadn't been transferred back to his quarters to rest, but nope, he was still there. He didn't want to see those cold eyes staring into him again. Couldn't. Chapel was on duty and he sent a comm to her device, asking her to bring some sleeping pills into his office for him.

She arrived a few minutes later, a pitying look on her face. He didn't need that.

He could tell she wanted to say something but he dismissed her before she could. He didn't need to hear anything, from anyone right now.

He just wanted some sleep.

Jim Kirk headed down to sickbay.

He had a headache. He'd had a headache for the past couple of days and he didn't see it abating any time soon.

His crew were a mess right now. But, he needed to try and get things back to normal. He headed into sickbay, smiling confidently at the staff he saw as he headed to his first officers bed.

Spock, for his part, looked utterly miserable. He didn't seem to be able to manage his usual passive expression and it was distressing to see. But, Kirk could sympathise with Spock's misery. He'd been an unwilling pawn to a powerful alien who had used Spock's body to hurt the crew. He'd had no control over what he did but clearly, he knew all too well what had happened.

He hadn't spoke in two days. McCoy, in a desperate bid to save himself and struck Spock with the scalpel kicked over to him and he's used it. He struck out blindly in his panic, slashed Spock's throat open. He's struck him a couple of more times in the arm and hand before Spock had fallen out of reach and McCoy had dropped the scalpel.

Spock's injuries had been nasty. He had to have a full two days without speaking, drinking or eating. Kirk had visited him the past two days but he wasn't sure anyone else, besides Uhura, had been.

It was why he'd insisted Spock stay in the main area of sickbay, so that people would see him. So that he wasn't hidden away like something they shouldn't think about.

“Mister Spock, you're looking much better today,” Kirk lied, easily. If anything Spock looked worse. “Have you attempted anything to drink or eat yet?” Kirk asked.

Spock shook his head.

“Have you spoke to anyone?” Spock didn't answer but the answer was clear enough. “Well, you'll do so when you're ready, I suspect.” Kirk said. “I came to give you this PADD. I need to file a report on what happened a couple of days ago and I need your input. I've already added my report and personal statement which is available for you to read, should you want too. He held the PADD out for Spock to take. He lifted one arm, the injured one, before taking it with the other instead. “Is that still bothering you?” Jim asked, looking at the bandaged hand and arm. Spock shook his head, a little too quickly, if Jim was honest with himself, but he didn't push.

Spock looked at the PADD, the screen blank but it didn't matter. He had something to focus on other than Jim and he would focus on that and that only.

It was then that Jim realised just how fragile Spock was right now. He was utterly broken by that had happened and he had no idea how to fix this.

“I'm off on duty but I'll come by when my shifts over. Maybe I'll bring the chessboard, huh?” Jim said, trying to be as positive as he could.

Spock, in response, struggled up a little more in bed and then proceeded to vomit all over the PADD and bed.

It was going to be a long day. ~

Jim left Spock being tended to by Nurse Chapel and headed to McCoy's office.

He'd been by his quarters already and knew this was where he was most likely to be. He was sleeping in his chair, his arms folded across the desk, heading resting on top. The sleeping pills and bottle of brandy beside it weren't a good sign.

“Bones, get up,” he said. McCoy's eyes opened slowly and seeing it was Jim he waved him off and rested his head again. “I need you up, come on,” Kirk insisted.

“Wh-?” McCoy muttered.

“I need you to come with me,” Kirk said.

“Oh.. go and die,” McCoy muttered.

“I did that once before and it was no fun. Get your shit together and meet me in the mess in 10 minutes,” Kirk said.

Spock didn't want company.

Despite the two days resting his throat, it still felt raw and the idea of swallowing anything didn't appeal to him.

It hadn't helped that he had vomited earlier. The bile had burnt and just made him feel worse.

And then Nyota had arrived with a Vulcan soup dish and a blend of some juices she knew he enjoyed and the idea of putting any of it in his mouth made him feel nauseas.

She quickly realised that he wasn't up to eating anything and put it aside. “It's okay, she soothed. You can do it in your own time.”

He was grateful for her understanding. She reached out to touch him but he flinched away from her touch.

She didn't say anything for a long time after that, and he didn't dare look at her but eventually she spoke again. “Well, I'm going to leave you to get some rest. But I'll be back soon. I love you,” she said. She didn't kiss him but he heard her kiss and blow it, the way humans did in that sentimental way.

He turned and watched her walk away.

He wished it would be forever.

#Star Trek #fanfiction #Lava #Hurt!Spock #hurt!mccoy #Jim Kirk #Uhura

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cutegirlmayra · 5 years

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Ever heard of Magic Kaito? Can you make a sonic prompt out of it? I'm not asking an AU, but as something to base on, like Sonic was forced by Dr. Eggman to steal, or has to beat him to it by stealing it first? And he has to keep it as a secret just like kaito? How would everyone react to it? Ooh and Shadow and the G.U.N. chasing him this time for actually being a "bad" guy!!! My how the tables have turned! and add sonamy in there too XD Thank you ate Mayra \uwu/ you're the best!!!

I can work with thieves in the night! Also, thank you so much for all you’ve done for @idontworkforsega! I really appreciate it and for that, have this prompt I tried to put a lot of thought into it and I just hope you enjoy it >w

PROMPTS ARE ON SHUTDOWN. DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT SEND ME ANY ASK TILL THEY ARE OPENED! WHICH THEY ARE NOT! SO HOLD THOSE BEAUTIFUL IDEAS IN A WORD DOC CAUSE IT BREAKS MY HEART TO DELETE GOOD PROMPT IDEAS! JUST WAIT, CUTIES! (followers) WE’RE TWO PROMPTS AWAY FROM REOPENING!!! WE’RE ALMOST THERE!!!!!!!

Prompt:

“Sonic just can’t be bad…” Tails repeated, not sure if Shadow understood him clearly.

His ears bent as Shadow dismissed him, flipping through a G.U.N file. “Stolen engine. Stolen gear. Stolen weapons. Stolen metal and utilities?” he put the file down and pinched the bridge of his eyes.

“Rouge, none of this makes sense.”

“They’ve got me stumped just as much, too.” Rouge, half-hidden in the darkness of the one light that swings above them, has her arms folded before walking over to take the folder. She flips it open again, “Seems he’s really being mind-controlled or something to help Eggman build something… but something on this scale would be impossible to not only create but to steal… Not without-”

“Sonic’s speed.” Tails hops into a chair, putting his hands together as he recently saw the footage he thought was back when Shadow was stealing the Chaos Emeralds… but it turns out all of that was to frame Sonic before… this time… Sonic really does seem to be the one causing the damage. “He never trusted Eggman. Even back in Chris’s world, he stopped Eggman. When everyone started liking Eggman, falling for his games, Sonic never once listened to anyone. He destroyed Eggman’s plan no matter how much the government fought against him.”

Shadow and Rouge turn to Tails.

He sighs, looking a bit loss for words. “He has to be mind-controlled… why else would he..?”

“It’s not mind-control.” The three turn to see Knuckles struggling to grip the door frame of Rouge’s hideout.

“Knuckles!” she exclaims, turning around, “Why are you..?”

She was shocked, her hand up by her face as she beheld the many injuries on him, as he fell to a knee, shaking…

“Knuckles!!!” she leaped and glided to him, helping him up as he struggled and fell to the ground again. “Ah!” like a doting friend, she let him lean on her. “What on earth happened to you?”

“S…Sonic… he’s not mind-controlled. He said he had… his reasons…” Knuckles looked torn-up just saying that, as though he tried to ‘knock’ some sense into Sonic and lost…

“No… he even attacked you?” Tails jumped out of the chair, coming down closer and falling to his knees in front of Knuckles’s crumbling strength. “Tell me! Tell me everything he said to you!”

“He’s got it. The Master Emerald.” Knuckles quickly spot through gritted teeth, one eye half-closed out of pain. “Tails… He’s not there anymore. He’s changed.”

“I don’t believe that!” Tails shook his head. “He… he wouldn’t… he wouldn’t abandon us like this!”

“Face it, Tails.” Shadow stepped up then, looking down at the boy as he began to break down. “He destroyed your plane, attacked his friends, and now has only one thing left to steal…”

Rouge looked up to Shadow, “You don’t mean…”

“If Eggman’s building what I think he is… then Sonic’s next target has to be it.” he turned back to the file Rouge once had.

He stared long and hard at it, not approaching it for a moment but then sternly grabbing it again.

“He’s going to come for G.U.N’s most secretive blueprints…”

“What are those..?” Knuckles dared to lift his shaking head up, as Rouge’s eyes shook in fright.

“You don’t mean…”

Shadow slowly turned around, closing his eyes. “Hmph… He appears to be…”

He opened his eyes.

“Coming for me.”

Amy wasn’t a stranger to G.U.N, though the boys may have doubted her and worried for her safety if Sonic really was mind-controlled, she knew through her own investigations that he may be after Project Shadow’s blueprints.

She didn’t know what he wanted with them, or why it seemed like he was helping Eggman, but she did know one thing.

She looked at the security guard passively leading her through to the commanding officer, but once her guard slipped, she too–scurried away!

“Phew~” Amy swiped some sweat off her forehead. “I thought she’d never give me a break.” Amy quickly began to sneak expertly around G.U.N’s most heavily secured locations… the top-secret files of Floor 42.

Floor 42 held everything there ever was that was blotted out of history, including Project Shadow and the Ark.

When things got dicey, Amy seemed to become invisible for a few moments, darting under the radar of the guards and their machine robots they had for double security…

However…

The robots, giant and bulky holding high-threat guns for the most serious of occasions suddenly began to short-circuit.

Amy gasped, peeking around the corner she had just managed to sneak by before realizing the sparking.

“727, what’s wrong with you?!” One of the men stated before the Robot’s body returned to normal… but its eyes shifted color and it began to fire on the lock doors.

“Ah!” Amy darted out, shouting as she grabbed the man and they tumbled to the floor before the robot could blast him to smithereens too.

“Great work there, buddy.” a familiar voice… could it be..?

There was a pounding up above the ventilation as Sonic used a laser to create a cut-out for him to shimmy through.

He put his hands to his hips, smiling at the robot and then clicking a few buttons from a device strapped to a black utility belt.

“G.U.N sure has more useful gadgets than Eggman could ever afford! Let’s say you and I get what we came for and then get out of here.” towards the end of that line, it sounded like Sonic turned less like himself and more serious, his smile left and the jokes had run out.

Was he coping?

Amy recognized the facial expression, and after helping the downed man get to the corner safely, she made herself known.

“Hold it right there! I know you don’t want to do this, Sonic!!!”

There was a moment of an involuntary twitch from Sonic,… but as he turned around, his eyes and face only held dark tones. It was as though… he really had changed sides.

“W-what’s wrong with you? You’re never like this… Sonic…” She began to lose her nerve, trembling a moment at the look of animosity in his expression. She shook her head and continued to be brave, “No! I won’t believe it! Tails went to find answers after you rigged the X-Tornado to explode! Your fingerprints… I just don’t want to accept it but it was you!” she lowered her head, her fists trembling. “They wouldn’t let me fight… to talk some sense into you… or at least find out why you’re doing this! Do you need Eggman to trust you? Is he blackmailing you? Sonic… talk to me! For once, just let us know what’s going on in that dense head of yours!” She stepped forward, and his eyes lowered to her foot that faced directly to him.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Sonic… let us help you! We can save you too!”

He seemed to pause a moment but then sigh and turn his head away, “No, Amy. You can’t.”

She seemed puzzled by his dismissal of her. “W-what do you mean..?” she stepped back a moment.

Again, he seemed to be thinking… before rubbing the back of his head. “Man… I knew I needed to get Tails and Knuckles off my backs… but I had really hoped you’d stay out of it.”

He cracked his neck and stretched out his arms a moment. “Guess you don’t leave me much of a choice now…” He began to walk towards her.

“S…S…S-Sonic… You wouldn’t hurt me… What do you mean by Knuckles? What did you do to him?!” She continued to move back, before bumping into something behind her.

“Ah!” she screeched as she turned around and saw Metal Sonic’s red eyes blaring into her own.

“SUBJECT IDENTIFIED. BAIT AND LURE.” it charged her.

When Amy came too, something was ramming into the files, fighting fearlessly but like animals as Amy looked to see the guard robot was defensively standing over her.

“W-… what?”

She leaned up and looked again, seeing Sonic slam into and create a dominio effect of the cabinet walls all toppling over onto each other. They were lined up pretty neatly, so Metal Sonic was able to keep shoving Sonic into each one.

“Sonic! I knew he wouldn’t hurt me!” Amy summoned out her hammer, “SOOONNICCC!!”

She charged, knocking Metal Sonic away as Sonic grabbed her arm.

“H-huh?”

“File located.” Sonic glared at Metal Sonic, but his eyes weren’t comforting to Amy at all.

He held up, with a bit of strain in his injured arm, a file with a red tag.

Metal, about to retaliate, looked like he didn’t really want to hesitate. “…PROTOCOL.” he seemed forced to comply and scanned it.

“FILE CONFIRMED.” he disengaged.

Sonic looked to Amy, and for a second, she did see sorrow in his eyes.

He held Amy’s arm up, “Ow!” Amy was pulled in the direction, grabbing her own arm to counter his forceful grip.

“…Lure confirmed.” Sonic glared back at Metal Sonic.

Metal Sonic seemed to know something Amy didn’t know in that moment. His eyes narrowed, as though challenging Sonic.

Sonic held his own, and even though Amy struggled, she wouldn’t fight against Sonic like this.

Metal looked to Amy… then grabbed her and pulled her over his shoulder.

“Hey, wait-!” Sonic went to protest but Sonic held his claws up, ready to stab him.

“BAIT CONFIRMED.” he seemed to be arguing a point…

Sonic gritted his teeth, shaking his outstretched hand into a fist… he held back… and lowered his head slightly. “…Mission… completed.”

Metal Sonic, as though taunting Sonic’s submissiveness, lowered the hand and patted Amy’s back. “RETURN ALL STOLEN ITEMS TO BASE.”

Sonic closed his mouth, just eyeing Metal head-on…

Metal lowered his arm but took a bold step forward, as though daring Sonic to try something… anything…

“MISSION…” his computerized voice replayed as though rewinding backwards, then he left a pause to see if Sonic would confirm the next instruction.

He tilted his head closer to Sonic, seeing he shut up a moment, and not say anything.

“Sonic…” Amy looked back over Metal Sonic’s shoulder. “You were protecting me right? Why aren’t you… why aren’t you fighting back anymore?”

He stayed with his eyes to the ground, which was currently the cabinet turned over and bent in where he was rushed into by Metal’s frame…

“Completed.” He closed his eyes, shutting Amy out once and for all.

Metal leaned back, his eyes lowering its eyelids as though disappointed he couldn’t fight Sonic while he was being compliant.

“DIRECTIVE, DR. EGGMAN MUST KNOW OF BAIT.” he opened something that flipped up on his arm. “DR. EGGMAN. FILE ACQUIRED. NEW BAIT ACQUIRED. PERMISSION-”

“New bait? Ohhh! If it isn’t Amy Rose! This just got interesting… I wonder how you took being captured by your own rescuer!” Eggman giddily cheered from the mic in the arm. “Good work, Metal Sonic, Sonic… I hope to see you both… very... soon… HOHOHOOOHOHO!!” he laughed his infamous, belly-deep gloat and turned the mic off.

Metal Sonic looked to Sonic then, the slide on his arm flipping back shut and tight. “SECURING BAIT.” He placed Amy down as she struggled, trying to trip up Metal Sonic, but his force was created to be matched only to Sonic’s brute strength… she couldn’t wiggle out of his hold so easily.

“L-let me go!” she turned back to Sonic, “Sonic, help me!”

Sonic tightened his eyes further shut.

“Sonic!” she watched as Metal Sonic rose a hand up.

“PROCEEDING TO INHIBIT TARGET FROM ESCAPE.”

Her eyes widened, he was going to knock her out? For good this time!?

His metal hand swung down…

But stopped.

Amy gasped and looked at him sparking.

“Y-Y-YOUZZZZ TRA-ZZZ-AIT-ZZZZ-TOR…” He malfunctioned as Sonic held down the device on his utility belt.

“Actually… I’m not the one that’s gonna fry you.” Sonic lifted the device as the guard G.U.N robot came towering into the room, basically knocking down the entire wall and door into the cabinet space–not being designed to come into the room–only to protect it.

The robot held up its large blaster and fired into Metal as Sonic grabbed Amy out of the way, controlling the robot.

Metal was blasted farther and farther back, and soon… out like a light.

“Sonic! You really did save-!… ahh…” She turned back, happy to have her hero back for a moment before…

His eyes were still hostile… still aggressive.

“…Sonic?”

He looked down at her, before throwing her like a tossed rag-doll over his shoulder.

“Ah! Hey! Sonic! L-…let me go! This is not how I like to be held!” She kicked back a bit but again, didn’t want to hurt him.

He went over to Metal Sonic’s steaming and heated metal, kicking the heel of his feet into the sliding device.

“Metal Sonic? What it is? Metal? Come in, Metal!!”

“Hey, Doc. Metal was being careless. Look like he got knocked out by one of the G.U.N guard bots around here.”

Amy stopped struggling.

“…Hmm… A likely story…” Eggman grumbled. “Don’t forget our little deal now… SONIC!” he threatened through the mic.

“Honest Eggman, I’ll bring him back to you. Free of charge! Then you can tell me how the little copybot rolled over.” his usual spunk had returned, but was it only for show at this point?

“Hmmm… Very well. Then I suppose the added bait… got away too?”

“Nope! No way she could escape me!”

“Oh yes… her darling Sonic still the darling of her dreams and fantasies then?”

Sonic remained silent…

Amy began to holler, “Eggman! What’d you do to him-!” but Sonic bounced her on his shoulder, and it hit the air out of her gut for a moment. “Ahh…!” she twitched a moment in temporary pain.

“Hahaha! Well, well. Looks like you are still following my commands. Excellent… then no hard feelings with Metal Sonic… Just make sure you bring that file and the girl to the base… Tails and the others will surely come to rescue her. Well done, Sonic The Hedgehog~” he chimed on that last part and then cut off the mic.

After Metal Sonic had cooled, more G.U.N robots and military began to appear.

“Alright, I’ve had a pretty rough day.” Sonic finally admitted, then smirked to them. “So I guess I need to let off a little steam. Sorry ‘bout all this.”

With no hesitation, Sonic took off and bested the G.U.N security while having both hands grabbing and carrying Amy and Metal Sonic out the front door.

It was infuriating the head of G.U.N, who launched everything, even a full-blown chase out to get Sonic.

While dashing away in a quick flee, dodging bombs and missiles heading their way, Sonic made sure to not let Amy escape.

“I don’t understand!” Amy tried to leap away when he rolled to miss a firing squad, but quickly bit the end of her dress and tugged, forcing her to yoyo back as he got up and grabbed her again.

“Gotta make everything difficult… including your criminal record now!” Amy folded her arms, huffing and puffing up her cheek in her scolding. “What? Being a goody-two-shoes suddenly doesn’t seem like the life anymore?!”

He never responded to her.

She once again summoned her hammer, ready to strike his head, but her eyes bent back in love and she looked to see another grenade launched at them.

With a surprised gasp, she hit it away as it exploded, and Sonic turned to see what she had done.

Finally, he did acknowledge her, grinning.

“Oh… OHHH!!! SHUT UP! Of course, I can’t help but still want you alive and well! Till death do us part, you idiot!” she let out her iconic cry and then threw her hammer at another guard, now attempting to slightly help in his escape.

However, she remained stubborn and folded her arms again, pouting. “Don’t you think this means I support your new life choices, though, Sonic!”

“Thanks, Amy.”

That blew her back more than the whiplash of him making it all the way to Eggman’s secret hideout.

“I appreciate it.”

“Y…You appreciate what..? That you broke my heart? Hmph.” she looked away from him, but couldn’t help and blush.

Amy soon realized that Sonic wasn’t being mind-controlled or anything like that at all! Eggman had inserted a small micro-explosion-chip into each of Sonic’s friend’s necks. If Sonic didn’t do as he was told, he would lose them all.

“Sonic! This isn’t fair!”

“Fair?” Eggman howled in laughter. “If I was playing fair, I wouldn’t have threatened lives!”

The plan was completed, Eggman’s new airship launched itself, planning to take out G.U.N and the biggest military defenses around the globe. With them disabled, Eggman was assured he’d take over the world without much resistance.

“Boring, I know, but I’m feeling a little lucky today~ Who knows! Maybe someone will rise up to fight you, Sonic. Wouldn’t that be something! HOHOHO!!!”

With Eggman’s laugh, Sonic stepped into the robotizier.

“Sonic!” Amy cried out, having escaped her cell and rushed into the engine room where Eggman and Sonic were. “You can’t do this! I’d rather have my neck blown off than watch you suffer!”

Sonic then paused as the machine came down around him. “Amy! Look out!”

Amy was surprised by that response but turned to see Metal Sonic swiping a claw at her.

It seemed Eggman didn’t just want ONE Metal Sonic…

Darting out of the machine, Sonic nearly got to Amy before his claw nicked her cheek, and he threw him over with himself into the lava pit Eggman had installed from the waste the generating engine created.

Eggman, amazed by Sonic’s fearless act, peeked over the side to see if they had really been incinerated… but Amy swooped her hand down after Sonic, gripping him with two hands as Metal flew up back into the air.

“Sooooniiicc!!!”

He smiled up at her, a bit of sweat all over him, as though he really was faking being alright with everything.

“Why can’t you just trust us for once! Just once! Let us know what’s going on with you!”

His eyes softened to her.

“Even if we all die, it’s better than having to fight against our friend! I’m not giving up on you, Sonic The Hedgehog! You’ve never stolen anything in your life! It was always just given you. But for once! I’m asking something of you that you can’t possibly refuse!!!” She began to let go of one of her hands on his, trying to stop sliding down the cylinder engine and towards the lava pit.

Eggman stuffed popcorn into his face, curious to see how Amy was going to save herself AND SONIC from this predicament.

Metal Sonic went to attack but Eggman held up a hand. “Hold it. Dead or robotized, doesn’t really matter in the end. Now… does it?” he then went back to eating his popcorn. “So long as Sonic’s out of the way, my plans for world domination can’t be superseded. Let the girl have her final moments of recongition~” he chimed.

“You’re going to do exactly what you’re still doing! Risking your life for the ones you cherish!”

Sonic couldn’t help but be fixated on her.

She struggled, her arm beginning to falter as it stretched to keep them both from sliding off and plummeting to their molten deaths.

“But in return, you must give us the same right! The same right… to… fight… for you… Son…ic..! AHHHH!!!” she strained her head back, feeling for the last ounces of strength left in her as Sonic, amazed, watched her swing him up and cry out as he was returned back to the top of the cylinder, large, beam-like engine that scaled the entire length of the open room.

Eggman spit out his popcorn. His whole body lurched forward, mouth hung open as he wiped heat and steam from his eyes. “WHAT!? Im… Impossible!!!??!?!”

Amy smiled through heavy breaths… “I’m gonna marry you… but you have to be my hero… my darling… for me to say I do… ahh… hhaaa…. Sooon…ic…” she slowly released her grip.

Pulling out a wire meant for lowering ones self into a room to snatch expensive jewelry, Sonic grabbed her with his wire and reeled her up.

Metal Sonic looked outraged, but due to his programming, he just turned to Eggman with a loud roar of his engine.

“Oh, fine! Take them down!” Eggman waved it off, pulling away from the scene. “Just make sure they don’t get away!”

Sonic pulled Amy up by him, as though… disguising the hug of relief.

“They’ve stolen Shadow’s files.” Sonic moved her away seconds after the embrace, “He was gonna make an army of me, but like Shadow.”

“A… Project Sonic?” Amy’s head was boggled then, but they quickly had bigger issues to deal with, currently…

Metal Sonic flung down towards them, but like a renewed tag-team, they began to fight him.

Through the outside metal-coating of the launched airbase, Tails fired the X-Tornado and took out Metal Sonic, blasting through the hide and then taking him down in the process as he was fired several times down into the lava below… and melted just the same.

Knuckles tried to retrieve his Master Emerald but Rouge was a double-agent, hearing about Knuckles’s micro-explosion-chip, she wanted to protect everyone as well.

The twist left Sonic still walking into the robotizer… but Amy turned Rouge’s heart at the last second, and Shadow finally disabled the engine which in turn, turned off the power of the ship.

Eggman’s bluff came out real fast as Tails hacked his computers, revealing that all he told Sonic was a lie and that no one was going to die.

“Pfft! You’re really gonna believe I made that whole thing up in one night sitting with a coffee cup that reads ‘Greatest Supervillian of all time’? Oh come now, Sonic, be sensible unlike your friends here. You know what’s best for them, don’t you, old boy?”

“I’m threw with having my friends distrust me, Doc.” Sonic threw the utility belt down.

“But I did happen to steal something actually worth keeping.”

Eggman rolled his yes, groaning, “Friendship?” he knew he was already beat…

The gang, Shadow, Rouge, Knuckles, Tails, and Amy all stood behind Sonic.

Sonic held his chest up proudly… before shrugging.

“Nahhh! It was the codes for the death generator bomb you implanted just in case a scenario like this happened!” he pulled out the device and started typing it in, “Heh, bummer.” He made a face, then clicked it.

Eggman roared and howled in vigorous anger after Sonic, but the gang all made it out safely.

G.U.N still handcuffed Sonic, saying he was saying locked up till he paid for this crimes.

As he walked by his friends, he apologized to each of them… but only looked at Amy, and then walked on by.

“Ah… Hey! Hold on!” She charged up to block the prison keepers from taking him away, spreading her arms out fully.

“You… You’re just going to walk away like that..? Let them take you somewhere where we can’t find you?” Her eyes poured out heartbreak, but Sonic only wiggled a finger in his ear.

As though being ignored, she began to drop her arms, but Sonic looked to a guard who nodded and let him walk up to her.

“You know,” He whispered to her, eyeing the guards as he did so. “I distinctly remember a certain hedgehog detective who managed to find out my next move before anyone else did…”

She slowly raised her head.

“If that hedgehog could find me out and save my life all in one day… then there’s no place they can keep me without her knowing about it.” he winked, smirking.

Her whole being rose up with his challenge, and with the understanding of his faith in her to bust him out and make a plan to do so.

“Just you wait, Sonic.” She nodded, determined to not disappoint him. “Through sickness and in health.”

His smirk turned more into uncertainty, as though he wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“And much longer than after death.” she put her hands behind her back and tilted her head cutely to him.

“Not death, Amy.” he spoke even quieter than before, that she had to lean forward and ask him again what he was mumbling. “Heh.” he smiled, giving her a bit of the Sonic charm as he whispered, for only her ears to hear…

“But not life, either.”

“Huh?” she didn’t seem to understand.

As he passed her, she heard a faint line cross the wind behind her…

“We’re never truly apart.”

but not a month went by before G.U.N was broken into yet again in their snowy base camp where a group of rebel thieves stole Sonic from right under their long, pointy noses!

Rouge was so proud. But strangely… threatened by the new recruits too.

Knuckles still denies he ever did anything illegal in his life, especially thieving!

#cutegirlmayra #sonamy #sonicxamy #sonic the hedgehog #sonic x #sonic prompt #sonamy prompt #amy rose #sonic x prompt

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deactivatedz2020 · 4 years

Photo

At a glance he may look like BILL SKARSGARD but in reality they’re just 26 year old Nathan Myers, a werewolf here in Barton Hallow. They are an omega without a group. They work as a receptionist at Wentworth Memorial here in town and are known for being adaptive and indifferent. I’d watch my back if I were you..

[Full Bio] [Pinterest] [Headcanons] [Wanted Connections]

First a few somewhat random little points, full bio and more linked above, but here’s some basic rambling to get this started.

Werewolf. Technically. Due to an amazingly unhealthy mix of distance from his original pack and the viciously abusive home life he suffered growing up, thrown in with a healthy fear of the sort of wolves that he knew pack to be; Nathan hasn’t fully reached his potential as a werewolf in spite of being in his late twenties. He hasn’t changed, hasn’t reached his full strength or scope of normal abilities, and he certainly hasn’t made any effort to fit himself into a new pack. He tends to live life as much like a human as possible, but it is a flawed effort given where he originally came from before being moved to CA (possible connection - people he knew back there) to live with his father.

His mother’s pack were unsettling by most any accounts, the sort of strange, bizarre monsters that the locals in their Appalachian home spoke of in whispers of ghosts and demons. Hardly the case, but the pack as a whole certainly had some arcane nature running in their blood and Nathan feels it within his own. All the more reason to be wary of what the moon can do, and what he may himself do if he were to reach that state. He’s mostly written it off as impossible, something within him too off centered, content with being stronger than humans, more aware, sharper sensed, rather than dare chase the moon too much. (Possible connection? Somebody who wants to stir up that change?)

As one would assume that, while unable to be sensed by most other werewolves (connection? Maybe someone can sense it?), that delay puts him at odds with them if they do find out. He’s hardly afraid to voice his opinions in regards to their often judgmental views, quick to point out that he doesn’t care what they think of him or his life (someone feel free to give him someone to clash on this?), but there is that feeling, still, of knowing that he doesn’t have a place with them anymore than he does with actual humans. It’s an uncomfortable spot, that feeling of being resistant to what one is and still feeling the lure of it so intensely.

Due to his inheritance Nathan really has no reason to work (hellooo other people working at Wentworth = connections), he could live very well his entire life and have nothing to worry about, but he likes having a reason to keep busy. And being a receptionist at the hospital isn’t exactly as interesting as things might have been if he’d finished his stint in school to become an RN, but it’s something to do. He also isn’t fond of people being aware of just how impressive his bank account is. He has a roommate (connection needs to be filled, yess), lives what he considers to be fairly typical for someone his age, although he gets it wrong sometimes after being raised in excess as his normality. His tastes run lavish but, usually, he doesn’t let it go too far in hinting at the money he doesn’t like for people to know about. (but if somebody does know? connection?) He’s lived the life of being important because of his status, he grew tired of it and the false people that came with it. Normality is surprisingly entertaining, all in all.

He has a cat, Frankie, (short for Frankenstein) who wanders the shared apartment. Said cat is the typical, pet me when I want and I’ll ignore that you exist the rest of the time, feline and is usually slinking around like a furry, splotchy shadow. Frankie is a Tortoiseshell tabby and Nathan claims he came with the apartment since he found the cat skirting around outside as a stray very shortly after moving in.

Perhaps a throwback to the linage of his pack, but Nathan has a morbid streak. He enjoys horror movies (100% needs somebody to drink and watch movies with) and binge watches them when left to his own devices, collects bones and skulls as artwork and pours over how lovely the macabre can be. Most of those habits he keeps to himself, he already gives off an eerie vibe almost naturally, but also likes to use that to unnerve people. His sense of humor can be dark at times, he really likes to joke that he knows he gives off that air of serial killer.

The flat dead stare also doesn’t help, because he has perfected it. Coupled with the fact that he’s intensely tall (6'4") most people are a bit intimidated by his presence. He finds it bemusing, even more so since a great deal of the time he’s not interested enough in bothering people to use that to his advantage. But when he does, yes, it works exceptionally well.

He has a surprisingly impressive working knowledge of the occult as well, thanks to his early years and the interest that came from trying to sort out his own hazy memories. (shared interest connection?) His room is scattered with books on various subjects and he holds some of the older superstitions true, even though he doesn’t admit it; something that seems ingrained in him through blood, perhaps, thanks to his mother’s influence.

Don’t try to debate morality with him, (or do because he really needs somebody to hang out and debate things with - connection?) Nathan is a firm believer that such concepts are entirely situational. There are no good or bad people, no evil or light ultimately, only people who twist the world as they see fit and the deeds they do. He likes that view, actually, because in the end it is the ultimate equality among everyone; when anyone is capable of any extreme what better common ground is there? Morality is also personal though, he knows, and those beliefs in how people see the world fascinate him.

In spite of seeming otherwise, his tendency to study people rather than interact with them, Nathan is very social. Getting him to warm up usually ends in sarcasm and offhand banter, but that’s just the sort of communication he considers friendly. He usually gives people a chance to prove if they’re total bastards or not before he makes his mind up. He prefers to roll his eyes and walk away from pointless confrontation, nothing irritates an instigator more than being ignored, but if he’s cornered he gets far less passive about the situation.

#bartonintro #nathan: bio #child abuse tw #death tw #addiction tw #will be updated and added to

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margoshansons · 5 years

Text

The Killing Kind (15/17)

Part Fifteen

MASTERLIST

Summary: They enter the fight and Y/N and Peter finally face the man who has been ruining their lives for the past two weeks.

Warnings: Violence, abuse, manipulation, parent on child violence, swearing.

Notes: Y’all buckle up cause this is the climax of the story, which means that this one is loooong. If you want a song to listen to, please, please choose The Killing Kind, which is the main inspiration behind this series.

“Fury’s got the coded message” Happy announced running over to the couple. “Your friends are on the London Bridge. How’s the suit coming?” “Great” Peter announced, “Almost finished”

“And the drones?” Happy turned toward Y/N.

The teen swiveled around, “About thirty minutes before they’re back online again.”

Happy nodded, repressing a smile at the ease the two worked with.

“Look Happy,” Peter began, “If something happens to me--” “You’ll make it back kid” Happy interjected, confidence radiating from him. “Now walk me through the plan again.”

Peter laid out the carefully constructed idea, “I know it's illusion tech right? And we know we can get inside. So all I need to do is get inside the illusion and find Beck, distracting him long enough for Y/N to retrieve and deliver the virus,”

Y/N jumped in, “And then while Peter is taking on Beck, who is human like everyone else, I’ll slip in and keep him in place long enough for Peter to take back EDITH.” Happy nodded, “Right, but last time you got hit by a train and he used a shock collar on you.”

Y/N shuddered at the memory before announcing the second part of their plan. “Right, but the virus will disable most of the drones’ illusion capabilities.”

“Plus” Peter added, “I uh, how do I explain this, I have like a sixth sense.”

“The Peter Tingle,” Y/N and Happy replied in unison.

Peter set his jaw in frustration at the name. “Yeah, that.”

“But it’s not working,” Y/N continued, “At least, that's what May was saying, and that’s what I heard.”

“It’s not--I mean it is--” Peter stuttered.

“Great!” Happy interrupted, “I’ll go save your friends with Y/N, and you get the Peter Tingle online.”

Peter closed his eyes in frustration again before meeting the playful look Y/N was sending.

“You sure we can do this?” Peter asked, grabbing Y/N’s hands in his own.

She smiled at him, “Of course we can. Together.”

They shared a quick peck before turning back to their assignments, Peter putting the last touches on his suit, while Y/N finished coding what she could using EDITH.

“You might need this,” Happy offered a soft leather jacket to the girl, the bright teal matching the same hue of her powers. Y/N smiled at the older man, letting him know how much this meant to her. “May’s idea” was all he said before heading back to the cockpit.

She slid the jacket over her shoulders pulling her hair from the collar, the soft material fitting like a glove. She stood before Peter in his new suit, not as teenagers. Not as a couple. But as superheroes ready to fight for the ones they loved.

She could see the storm brewing above the bridge, grasping on tight to Peter as he stuck to the outside of the plane.

She could practically hear her father’s stupid voice in her ear.

Now’s that’s an avengers level threat. Or something dumb like that.

“Alright Comms check,” Happy’s tinny voice whispered in her ear. “Can you kids hear me?” “Yep,” Peter yelled, “Just a little windy out here!”

“A little?” Y/N snarked, a smirk on her face.

Peter shrugged as he debated the realness of the storm with Happy before flying further upward.

“You know” Y/N continued to relieve the tension, “We should recreate this position later. In much better circumstances of course”

“Remind me and I’ll do it,” Peter yelled back.

“Hey!” Happy’s voice perched, “No flirting on the Comms you hear me?”

The couple shared a giggle before dropping off the plane and into the illusion. They plummeted to the ground, somersaulting the air several times before Peter hooked his web to the tower bridge, swinging Y/N forward, allowing her to tumble gracefully onto the debris scattered landmark.

“See you in a few” She whispered before running after her friends. She threw tendril after tendril moving car after car out of her way. Drones attacked her from all angles while one hand was held behind her, ensuring her shield stayed up behind her.

The newly constructed device on her arm showed exactly where Happy had touched down. Her friends had moved.

“EDITH” She ordered, “Stop all drone activity in that area”

“Yes Y/N.”

She flew upward, the blue energy propelling her forward as she tackled the drones her father shot back at her. She had faith any shots would be non-lethal. He couldn’t kill the only family he had left. Not while his blood ran in her veins.

She landed right in front of the Tower, early enough to see her dad’s weapons enter the vault.

Her blasts landed, tearing each drone to pieces. She projected the protective energy in front of her, shielding against the bullets that could pierce her skin and turn it red. These are her friends, this is her family and she’ll be damned if she couldn’t save them.

“Y/N!” Peter’s voice shouted in her ear, “You got the virus yet?”

“On it” She growled, sweat dripping from her brow as her body warmed from the energy charging up. She expelled it forward, holding the drones in stasis before crumpling them to dust. Her father would not take the only family she had left from her.

“Y/N!” MJ collapsed into her best friend, the two girls ignoring the weird looks from Flash and Betty.

She smiled into her friend’s shoulder, holding back tears of relief at the sight of MJ alive and well. Of MJ here, alive, ready to fight beside her.

“Here,” The taller girl offered the USB, “I kept it safe just like you asked.”

Y/N kissed MJ’s cheek, “Oh my god thank you so much” The two girls shared one more look with each other before Y/N uttered one last command. “The fight’s not done yet, I need you guys to take cover with Happy until this is over”

“Are you working with Spiderman too?” Flash asked excitedly, his Instagram still running.

Y/N nodded, a chuckle escaping her at the look of awe on his face.

“Wow” Flash continued sheepishly, “Uh, I’m uh, I’m sorry I made fun of you for so long.”

“It’s okay Flash” Y/N forgave the poor kid before turning back to her friends. “It’s not safe out there for you guys and I only managed to stall the drones until I get the virus in. I need you guys to lay low.”

“Don’t worry kid” Happy interjected, “I’ll take care of them.” The teen flashed a grateful smile at him before turning around to face her father.

She was stopped by a soft hand on her forearm. “Y/N wait,” MJ called, fear seeping across her face. “I, uh, I really, um,” She cleared her throat, “Just come back, promise?”

Y/N pulled her closer, whispering in her ear, “I will. Those five years were hell, I’m not spending any more without you.”

MJ nodded, ushering the rest of her classmates into the sealed vault.

***

“Why the hell have half of my drones stopped working?” Quentin shouted into the comm.

“I have no idea, sir,” the former Stark employee becoming more incompetent by the minute. “But the projection is almost online” Quentin watched as his drones pushed Peter Parker further into the water, and he felt a sigh of relief. “I don’t know how you’re going to spin this one” his employee continued.

He smirked. Soon the world would be his. Everyone would know his name. Everyone would listen to him. And if it took a couple human casualties, well then so be it.

“Uh, sir” William interjected his fantasy, “Sir, our power dropped by 75 percent”

“What?” Quentin raged, “How?” A familiar voice was his answer.

“Hello, daddy” Y/N called, watching as he whipped around, surprise crossing his face at the sight of his daughter holding one of his illusion drones, a small thumb drive parked in the weapon.

“Surprise.” She exclaimed.

Quentin’s stomach dropped.

***

Y/N had to admit, seeing the shock on her father’s usually passive face filled her up with so much serotonin she was pretty sure it cured her depression. A smile replaced his shock, and Y/N threw the drone behind her, a protective glyph etched into the material.

“Edith” She announced, “Target Quentin Beck”

“EDITH!” Quentin wrestled, “cancel that order”

The two Becks wrestled with control, yelling order after order until Beck was close enough to grasp his daughter's wrist. She winced in pain as he twisted, ripping the device off her arm before throwing her to the ground in a rage. His face contorted, twisting until the crazy refused to leave his eyes, uttering another command to the AI.

Y/N found herself engulfed in darkness. She pushed herself up, using what little strength she had to push her wrist back into place, twisting it once, twice, making sure that every bit of pain ran through her body before she faced the man who had been her abuser her whole life.

“This doesn't work on me anymore” She called, gathering energy in her fists. “You can convince me as much as you want it doesn't change the fact”

She walked forward, the virus allowing her to glimpse the slightest bit of white paint on the device. Her powers reached forward, throwing them behind her, the image failing as each drone fell out of formation until finally, she was before her father.

Y/N channeled her anger forward, going against everything her father had ever taught her. “You told me I was worthless, that I was nothing.”

She felt the sweat drip down her back, energy charging up until her eyes swirled blue.

“You called me a child, useless, you told me that I was nothing more than a battery. A way for you to achieve your goals. You used me until I served no more purpose. You held a gun to my head. You threatened to leave. You used your own tech against me. You put a collar on me to prove a point!”

She was at full capacity.

“You manipulated me, using my mother, my emotions, my nature against me! You have never cared for anyone but yourself.”

Y/N expelled the energy forward, twisting her fingers as she worked her magic through his body. The energy slithering from blood vessel to blood vessel until she found his heart. His bright beating heart. His stupidly fragile heart. She poured into his organ, placing pressure on the fleshy body part until it felt ready to burst.

“Which is why I’ll never ever be like you”

Her powers were cut off, and a familiar dropping sensation filling her stomach. Her throat constricted while her father’s crazed voice whispered against her ear.

“You never have been. That's why you fail.”

Y/N struggled against her father’s vice-like grip, holding his daughter flush to his stupid MoCap suit encased body as Peter crashed upward onto the bridge.

“Let her go Beck!” He yelled.

She could feel her father’s growing smirk behind her hair. “I don’t think so Peter,” His grip grew tighter.

“Beck please” Peter urged, “You don’t wanna do this. Not to your only family left.”

Quentin’s face broke into a smile. Finally realizing the gravity of the situation to Peter. “Uh Oh. Looks like Spiderman caught feelings.” He turned his face toward his daughter’s, squeezing tighter until all breath was sealed off, “What do you know honey? Looks like dreams do come true.”

“One last time Beck” Peter moved forward, voice growing darker. “Let. Her. Go.”

“You kids are so predictable you know that?”

Darkness engulfed all three of them and Y/N felt his grip loosen slightly. She grasped his arm, twisting it before pulling him forward, his scream echoing through the glass chamber. She swung her leg around, pushing her foot on his shoulder, forcing him further down.

“Just do it!” He screamed, EDITH complying with whatever order he had uttered. All Y/N could see was red. Glimpses of her life passed her by.

Her first robot. Her dad playing video games with her. Teaching her the difference between Linux and C++, him finding out about her powers.

Whack! She slammed her foot into his gut.

Him placing her in a room with his drones like some fucked up test. Her coming back with bruises and scraped and bullet holes all down her body. Her birthday cakes turning into birthday experiments. Each an illusion or a drone set there to test her powers.

She twisted his arm, relishing in the scream that filled her ears.

Him facing her himself. Using her love for him against her. Forcing her to attend MIdtown high after finding out about Tony Stark’s new recruit. Forcing her to join his company after her best friends had blipped.

She blocked his punches, returning a few with her own. The sound of skin hitting skin creating a pleasing symphony.

How he gradually pulled further and further away after his termination at Stark Industries. Her running away after trying to rope her into his schemes one last time. The illusions, the manipulation, the guilt, everything about it fueled the red that entered her vision.

She held him down again, one thought on her mind.

Her father never cared for her.

He wanted to be a god? Well too fucking bad.

This man threw her into a Ferris wheel. This man put a shock collar on her. This man held a gun to her head.

A gunshot went off. She froze.

Holy shit that was amazing and I loved writing every bit of it! I hope you guys enjoyed this climax as much as I did. Also, I will give a personal shout out to those who can figure out what Y/N’s superhero name is going to be.

(Hint: It’s been mentioned in this chapter and several others)

Thank you all for your feedback and please like, comment, and reblog!

TAG LIST: CLOSED

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valnune · 4 years

Text

Task 1: Chapters 1-5 (Wine Mom Perspective)

Of course. That is what the initial observation is, but there was so much more to this vision. There are seven banners with various animals between eight windows. Perhaps it is accurate to say this looked like a courtroom but something about it gave off an aura of dread. There is an appropriate saying for this situation: We’re not in Kansas anymore. That much was obvious. Aside from the archaic furniture that gave this echoing room a demeanor of authority, the most striking feature was rather outside.

There, behind all the faces directed at her, was a moon with a size that marked this place as otherworldly. Such a thing wouldn’t be believed to be real if it wasn’t for the light cast through the windows and how it interacted with the surroundings. This was a natural light, even if it seemed beyond logically possible. How would a moon that size affect the tides? No- Those thoughts can be addressed later.

The man in the seat of the chief judge, higher than the others, be that symbolic or not, starts speaking.

“Welcome to the Devildom, Althea. Oh, pardon me. Feeling a bit shocked, are we? Well, that’s understandable. You’ve only just arrived, after all. As a human, it will probably take a while for you to adjust to things here in the Devildom.”

His tone seemed overly polite, overly cheerful- especially for someone of his stature. It was all too casual for the words that he spoke, as if this sort of thing was supposed to be taken at face value.

Was a shocked look being presented? Perhaps a glint of nervousness. Eyes remained focused upon the figure that had just spoken. The militaristic uniform he wore was a blazing red with a black shoulder cape on his left side, contrasting the black uniforms and red shoulder capes of the others. The one who had spoken also had a skin complexion like chai with russet hair styled in a way that made it seem like he was trying to be relatable. Devildom… And he referred to her as human which meant he must have been something else.

“I suppose I should start by introducing myself. My name is Diavolo. I am the ruler of all demons, and all here know of me and someday soon, I will be crowned king of the Devildom. This is the Royal Academy of Diavolo… though we just call it RAD. You’re standing within the assembly hall, the very heart of RAD. This is where we officers of the student council hold our meetings and conduct our business. I’m the president of said council.”

He continued on, and with a gesture around him as he spoke, displayed the assembly hall. The others who were there remained silent for now, however there was a curious thought. He called himself the ruler, and yet he isn’t yet crowned King? Well that certainly was presumptuous. Furthermore, he named the Royal Academy after himself, and made himself president? More importantly, he confirmed what this place was. This was Hell, right? These were demons. Real demons. There was no way of knowing what they could do, if they could read minds or what their intentions were. The only thing I can control with absolute certainty is my own actions- and even then that’s not guaranteed. There’s no point overthinking when answers will be provided. As much as Althea loathed to trust things at face value, it was a necessity for the moment. Still. There were a few questions that needed to be addressed.

Taking a half step backwards, it is best to start things off right so with a sweeping bow, lowering my gaze to the ground she addressed the council before her as calmly as possible.

“An absolute delight to make your acquaintance, Lord Diavolo. If I may request courtesy and clarification on two fronts, I would greatly appreciate it. If I am correct in assuming this is Hell, I would kindly like to know if I am deceased or not, and if I have died, what was the manner. If I am still alive and was brought forth before you, I would very much like to know the reason for it.”

Rising upwards, Althea did what she could to remain as calm and composed as possible. You’re only able to make one first impression and for demons, it most certainly would be an impression that would impact her stay here. Still. It was hard to believe that any of this was true. Hell was quite different from what the Bible said but then again. How much of that was fear mongering anyway?

Another man spoke in response as he stood from a chair set to Diavolo’s immediate right. His hair was side parted, black that faded to grey at the tips giving him a more mature look, though his stance was closed off, arms tightly wrapped. The initial impression this man gave off was of a no-nonsense strictly business type of person. His eyes.. And like all of the ones here, were unnatural in some way. That shouldn’t be too surprising. They were demons after all.

“I will explain everything to you.”

“Althea, this is Lucifer. He is a demon and the Avatar of Pride. He’s also the vice president of the student council and my right-hand man…and not just in title, I assure you. Beyond that, he’s also my most trusted friend.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Diavolo.”

Their little banter back and forth gave the impression of a close, interwoven history. Though it took her for a bit of a shock that this was Lucifer, and that he was a second to someone. The Catholic Church seemed to have mistaken a few things. Was that for better or for worse? Regardless, Lucifer continued to speak in a smooth, yet stern voice, befitting someone proclaimed as the avatar of pride.

“Speaking on behalf of the entire student body at this great and storied school of ours, I offer you the most heartfelt welcome, Althea.”

A flat gaze just passed by her. That certainly didn’t feel like a heartfelt welcome. Furthermore, he just ignored her question entirely. However, the strange casualness of how he spoke was unfortunately the exact opposite of calming. In fact, it only brought up more questions.

“If it was truly heartfelt, you’d answer my questions, but I suppose it is safe to assume I am not dead at the very least. ”

“...Interesting. This one is quite different from Solomon.” He said in an aside while giving a glance to his left.

“You would be correct to assume such. It would defeat the purpose Diavolo intends. Diavolo believes that we demons should start strengthening our relationship with both the human world and the Celestial Realm. As a first step toward this goal, we’ve decided to institute an exchange program. We’ve sent two of our students to the human world and two to the Celestial Realm and we’re welcoming four students to our school: two from your world and two from the Celestial Realm. So, I take it you’ve probably put two and two together at this point, right? You’ve been chosen from among the people of the human world to participate in this program of ours. You are our newest exchange student. Your period of stay is one year. You will have to work on the tasks that you will receive from RAD. After one year, you will write a paper about your exchange here in the Devildom.”

That was certainly a fair bit of information to take in at once. She was in university working on her thesis, completing Masters classes and working towards a doctorate in economics. Did that mean that a demon was going to be taking her classes for her? Why did all of this seem like a hassle? A tight pursed lip of an expression passed by her features, another flat gaze of passive disdain. Yet the way he said Celestial Realm and not Heaven caught her off guard. He hadn’t referred to this place as Hell either. Perhaps it was a derogatory term to call it as such, or just narrow in scope. That Hell was an aspect of the Devildom.

“I am under the assumption then that I am not able to refuse this… well, clearly not a request but a mission, I suppose, of yours. I suppose I have no choice but to take a leave of absence at my University.” A sigh passed by her lips as she returned his stare.

“Once more, you would be correct to assume you have no choice in the matter, but don’t glare at me like that. It’s not like I will abandon you all by yourself here in the Devildom. You need someone to look after you, and I think that someone should be my brother Mammon. He’s the Avatar of Greed and… how should I put it…? Oh well, you’ll understand soon enough.”

It was at this point that Lucifer stepped down from the table and made his way over, handing a device that looked very much like a phone, in fact it looked exactly the same but apparently it was not.

“Here, take this device. It’s called a D.D.D. It’s a lot like the cell phones of your world. This will be yours to use for as long as you’re here. Now, go ahead and try calling Mammon with it.”

Accepting the D.D.D. It was easy to be able to navigate its menu. It was exactly a rip off of a phone. Was this just another thing named after Diavolo as well? Diavolo’s Discussion Device? This was the Devildom after all… Devil Dominion? Devil Kingdom? Was this just a big joke? A pun? Of course it’s a pun. This is Hell after all. Althea took a step back and turned the D.D.D on speaker setting before letting it ring… ring… and then it picked up.

“Yoooo.” The voice over the phone awkwardly said upon picking up.

“Am I speaking to Mammon?” Holding the device upwards, she spoke over it in a cool, calm tone.

“Huh? Who the hell are ya? You ain’t Lucifer.”

“I am Althea Severine, a human that is part of the exchange program. I’ve been requested to call you.”

“Whaaaa? A human? Geez, I was gettin’ all chilly here thinkin’ it was Lucifer again. Ya should’ve told me right away. You’ve got a lotta nerves callin’ on THE Mammon, exchange program or not.”

“I’ve been informed that you’ll be “looking after” me from now on. I hope you know what you’ve been signed up for.”

“No way! There’s nothin’ in it for me. Besides, Whaddya even mean by, looking after anyway? I ain’t gotta do nothin’. See ya.”

“This is implicit instructions from your brother, Lucifer.”

“Pfft, whatever. Ya think The Mammon would listen to ya just ‘cause you’re tryin’ to scare me with that name?”

Lucifer stepped forward as he was about to take the phone but, with a side glance, Althea paced to the side, a few taps of her shoes echoing a bit. Just from the impression, it was clear to see what sort of demon of greed he was. Just add a little pressure, a little threat… Let the games begin.

“Mammon. Avatar of Greed, correct?”

“Yeah, what of it?”

“If you are not here at the assembly hall of RAD within the next five minutes, your assets will be liquidated and donated to charity. If you consider this to be a hollow threat, know that I am in the presence of Lucifer, and of Lord Diavolo. You may not think much of me or the threats I offer, but are you willing to risk that?”

A bit of a smirk passed from her lips as she lifted her gaze towards Lucifer who had a bemused expression.

“Fine. FINE! I’ll be there ya damn b-” Althea disconnected the call as he was about to call her, presumably, a bitch. A short huff from her nostrils, a shake of her head, the D.D.D. was slipped away into a pocket.

“Sounds like you had a nice chat.” The expected smug reply from Lucifer as the call ended.

“Would it also be correct to assume that the reason he is my “caretaker” is so that you can keep an eye on the both of us at the same time?” Another slight sigh slipped from her lips. If she was having to babysit someone at the same time that would only make this worse.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” That damned smug smile returned.

“Well, if you were suddenly brought to a strange place and then get told that an unfamiliar face will now take care of you, you’d feel anxious. However, Mammon isn’t the only one to help you out. Now then… we still need to introduce our new friend to your brothers, Lucifer. And it’s probably better that you do that instead of me, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’m not anxious-” Althea lifted a finger upwards as she looked between the two as Diavolo spoke up.

“As much as I dread the idea of doing so, you’re right.” Though, as Lucifer was about to continue, one of the other men at the back stood up and started to make his way down.

“Oh, come now. Really? You should be honoured that you get to introduce such a sweet and charming little brother like me!”

“This one here is Asmodeus. He’s the Fifth Eldest. He is the Avatar of Lust.”

Asmodeus. That name was certainly famous, just as much as Lucifer’s was. Though, as far as she knew, Diavolo was just Italian for the Devil. The man appeared youthful, one of those adonis charming boyish types, and from the looks of it, was shorter than her. A little side fringe over his face, strawberry blonde, perhaps a bit on the side of rose gold with eyes of molten honey. A primadona. Especially how he reacted to being called, This One.

“Wh… I can’t believe you totally ignored what I said! And not only that, you referred to me as this one. How rude!” Primadona indeed. Though, given he was the avatar of lust, it is to be expected that he’d be more dramatic of word and poise.

“Hmph. At least he didn’t ignore you altogether. How do you think I feel?” Another spoke, coming down from the council table. Blonde hair, bright green eyes, the impression made him come off as a sensitive type but that was soon dispelled as Lucifer clarified who he was.

“That one there is Satan, the fourth eldest of us. At first glance, he may seem like a responsible demon with a good head on his shoulders, but looks can be deceiving.”

“Aha, so I’m that one, am I? Nice to meet you, Althea. I’m Satan, the Avatar of Wrath.”

Satan and Asmodeus. Wrath and Lust. Along with Lucifer, Pride. There was another one there with orange hair that wasn’t introduced yet. However, glancing towards the two presented in front of her, Althea took a step towards them in evaluation, as much as she assumed they were evaluating her. It seemed that Satan was at eye level with her- if only for the heels she was wearing, even even without them, she was confident she’d still be taller than Asmodeus.

“Likewise it is nice to meet you, Satan, perhaps looks can be deceiving but I intend to make judgments on my own instead of relying on the opinions of others. That is to also say, I will not ignore such a charming individual as yourself, Asmodeus. I will be interested in finding out fact from fiction regarding your history.” Her smooth words returned to them, a slight incline of her head in a respectful response, a smile, keeping utterly calm. She couldn’t afford to blow a first impression like this.

“Ooooh. Did you hear that, Satan? She thinks I’m charming- of course who wouldn’t think that? They’d have to be blind. In fact, let’s give a little demonstration! Althea, could you gaze into my eyes for a moment? It’s okay, I won’t hurt you. I promise it’ll be fun…”

He took a step forward and looked upwards, just the same as she looked down towards the honey hues. The longer she looked at them, the more colours and shades she could see within them. Amber, orange, peach. Colours that invoked warmth.

“Yes, great! That’s perfect! Now, keep your eyes fixed on mine… Just… like… that…” As his words trailed off, the expression of delight changed to one of confusion and then dismay. Something wasn’t going the way he intended. However, Althea just stared, her gaze going from vaguely curious, to bored rather quickly as the stoic expression set in. She didn’t have time for this nonsense.

“...Wait a minute. There’s something about you...hmm..”

“I should probably warn you, Althea; you’d best be wary of Asmodeus’s gaze. He can charm and manipulate people and use them to his own advantage. If you’re not careful, he’ll charm you. And once you’re under his spell, he’ll eat you.” Satan spoke up, first starting to sound amused and then shifted his tone to a scolding one. Well. That would have been nice to know beforehand.

“Hey, don’t go around saying things like that. Hmm. Regardless, my power doesn’t seem to work this time for some reason, I wonder why.”

“Well, I for one am glad for that. You can’t guarantee what I’d do once the charm wore off.” Althea scoffed and slid a heel backwards, whether or not the defensive stance was intentional or not, but she was able to see a rather tired expression from Lucifer as he spoke.

“Are you done? Now, the one there with the very grumpy look on his face is Beelzebub. He’s the sixth oldest.”

“Lucifer, I’m hungry.” Beelzebub. So that’s who he was. She remembered having to read Lord of the Flies in school despite its views on religion and other things.

“That’s too bad. Now behave yourself.” Lucifer gave quite the stern expression in response.This seemed to be a theme.

“I’m Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony.” There was a pitiful look upon his brow as he was told to quiet down, though he still came down from the stands as he had to introduce himself.

“So. There are seven of us brothers in all, and I am the eldest. Mammon, the second oldest of us, will be here soon. My other brothers aren’t here at the moment, but… well, we can get to them later. All in good time.” Seven..? Then they are the avatars of the seven deadly sins? Envy and Sloth would be the two missing then. At least Catholic School was giving her some unusually useful knowledge.

“During your stay in the Devildom, the seven brothers will lend you their strength. To keep you safe, you are to stay with them at the House of Lamentation.” Diavolo seemed to take much amusement in the situation.

Pursing her lips tightly again, her eyes just narrowed ever so slightly. She was going to be staying in a house with seven others, seven male demons. What else literally could be going wrong today?

“Most agree with Diavolo, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t vulgar demons out there who wouldn’t harm you. If anything were to happen to you, it would be our responsibility. And I won’t betray Diavolo’s expectations. So, I will do everything in my power to make sure you survive your stay down here in the Devildom. Although we will all be living together, you should still have the means to reach us at any given time. All of our phone numbers are already in there. And your D.D.D. also has a messaging app. Make sure to add all of us.”

“I’ll go ahead and send you a message!” Diavolo had his own D.D.D. and texted something through, her phone, no, D.D.D. She’d have to get used to thinking it’s not a phone. Anyway, it buzzed in her pocket.

“Isn’t that nice, Althea. Now you will be friends with the future king of the Devildom!” Satan made certain to add his opinion in to the conversation.

All of this honestly seemed like it would become exhausting. What worth was it to her? Was this just a game to all of them? She didn’t have time to spend a year away from the Human world. She had to get her career started so that she could take on the family businesses. All of this was a distraction. Yes. The amount of knowledge that could be found about this and other worlds and the implications- they were not lost on her. If Hell was Real, was God real? And in what sense? If there was such a world like this in Hell, and in Heaven, what was the afterlife, the result of it? Was it eternal and the human world was transient? Did it matter? Did any of it matter? Her internal thoughts were cut off as Lucifer spoke up again.

“Well. you’ve got that done now, and it seems the idiot has arrived as well.”

“HEY! Just who do you think you are, human? You’ve got a lotta nerve summoning the Great Mammon! Listen up, because I’m only gonna say this once. If you value your life, then you’ll hand over all of your money now! And anything else of value, too! Otherwise I’ll wipe that smug disinterested look right off of your face… by eatin’ you! Startin’ at your head and working my way down, until-”

“Mammon, shut up or I’ll punch you!” That was the warning- except Lucifer didn’t hesitate to follow up with his threat before giving Mammon a chance and decked him in the shoulder, causing the tanned skin, white haired demon to stagger backwards, nearly losing balance.

“GAH, OWW! Hey, what’s the big idea? I thought you were actually gonna give me a chance to shut up before punching me!”

“Althea, Mammon here is the Avatar of Greed. He governs and oversees all forms of it. Whenever he takes a liking to someone, they suddenly find themselves awash in money. But from what I hear, if he decides to break it off with someone, that wealth evaporates. They’re left without a Grimm to their name.” The ever informative Satan.

“And he’s also a masochist. That part’s important.” Of course, Asmodeus had to mention that part as well. It looked as if Mammon was about to speak in protest of these comments when Lucifer cut him off.

“Indeed. And it just so happens I have a job for my masochist of a brother.” “Y’all, stop telling lies! I ain’t asked for that punch, and I AIN’T a masochist!”

“Mammon, you are going to be in charge of seeing to this human’s needs during the whole exchange. I expect your full cooperation.”

“What?! Why me?!”

All the while during this interaction, the back and forth, Althea watched both Lucifer and Mammon. Though they were First and Second, it was clear where the division was. Lucifer was the eldest but he was the head of the household who delegated things. Mammon hardly acted like an older brother to the others. Yet. They acted rather human. At least to her. Then again. How was a demon supposed to act? Like a ravenous beast?

“Aww, lucky you, Mammon! I’m so jealous…” The Avatar of Lust spoke up, even if he made a feigned pout, he wasn’t interested as he was examining his fingernails, painted a pink and turquoise on alternated fingers.

“All right, then why don’t YOU do it, Asmodeus?!”

“What? Hell no, too lazy.” It was expected as much. Mammon trying to pass it off but Asmodeus wasn’t wanting to put in extra effort of course.

“I thought you said you were jealous of me?!”

“Just give up, Mammon. There’s no getting out of this. You know you can’t refuse a direct command from Lucifer, correct?” Once more it always seemed that Satan had something to add.

“But why does it have to be me?! What about Beel. Why can’t he do it?!” As if to exclaim, Mammon walked in the direction of Beel, waving a hand towards him. He too had painted fingernails. White in fact.

“This isn’t a job we can entrust to Beel. We might as well ask him to eat this human.” Asmodeus kept his poise disinterested in the situation, shaking his head as he canted his head to his younger brother.

“Mm, yeah. I can’t promise I wouldn’t.” Though Beelzebub was younger, he was just as tall as Lucifer and Diavolo, and just as broad as the latter. Surprisingly, he also had painted fingernails. Orange like his hair.

“You’re useless, you know that?!” Mammon continued to have an exasperated expression, being forced to do something he didn’t want to do.

“...Mammon?” Lucifer stared towards his younger brother and just by saying his name it caught Mammon’s attention.

“...Wh-what?”

“Surely you’re not going to tell me that you object to this arrangement, are you?” Normally those words wouldn’t have an intimidating factor to them, but there was just a pressure that was felt. Like a wave or energy that emanated from Lucifer. His expression wasn’t even that particularly forceful but it held a firm sternness that caused Mammon to straighten up.

As he adjusted his posture, Mammon stood up taller, remained silent and stared towards Lucifer before… his expression broke and he turned away to look at Althea. Whether that was disgust or disinterest, he clearly didn’t care for what he was being forced to do. Not that she blamed him, yet the both of them were stuck together now, for better or worse.

“Ugh.. I hate you guys! Every last one of ya! Fine… FINE! I’ll do it, okay?! All right, human, listen up. As much as I don’t want to look after you, I’ve got no choice. It’s a huge pain in the ass, and I’m too important for this kind of thing, but Lucifer told me to do it, so I will. But in return, you better make sure you don’t cause me any trouble, got it?!”

“I cannot guarantee anything. You are stuck with me, just the way I am stuck with you, and I will not suffer ignorance from you or anyone else.” Althea also stared downwards on this demon. It was safe to say even without heels she’d still look down at him. Hmm, and if he actually was masochistic, it would be easier to try to exert pressure on him to get him to behave.

“I’m afraid that you’ll have to suffer a lot of ignorance with Mammon. Just make sure you don’t catch his stupidity.” Satan could be heard behind her. He was rather opinionated, wasn’t he?

“Hey-Hey! I might not be smart but I ain’t ignorant! Y’all stop it- and you human better keep your yap shut!”

“We have decided who will take care of you, so on to the next subject: your tasks. Along with attending the Academy, your task is to polish up your soul nicely and to acquire the power to resist demons. You see, demons like humans with nice souls. Let me put it another way, nice souls look like shiny jewels. Do you understand now? Demons will use their wisdom and abilities to tempt humans so they can get their hands on their souls. Other demons at RAD also have tasks assigned to them just like you. In other words, either humans will be tempted by demons, or demons will lose against the shiny and noble soul of a human and make a run for it. You could say it is an experiment to find out who will win.”

“I wanna make one thing clear right now; Don’t blame me if someone gets eaten, ‘cause it ain’t my fault.”

“Lucifer, I’m hungry.”

“That’s too bad. Now, behave yourself.”

Her gaze flattened at that. Really? Bringing a hand to her face, Althea couldn’t hold back the strain upon her features now, stroking her temples with a hand thumb and middle finger rubbing to release the strain. Just. Really?

“Well. Perhaps this would come as a surprise to you, but I hardly doubt that I have a nice or a noble soul. In terms of being a human being, I consider myself to have quite a bit of skeletons in my closet, and perhaps I have a real one. I’ve always assumed I’d be going to Hell, but I didn’t expect it would be this early in my life. Now, if you’d excuse me, I’d very much like to return to Earth as I was in the middle of some important business. This is a waste of my time and unlike all of you, which seem to be taking this very much as an amusement and fleeting moment in your lives, this is very much a pivotal point in my life and one that was not a scheduled interruption. I was nearly done with my education which has taken years of planning and has been meticulously planned might I add… and this is a deviation I will NOT stand for. Now, return me to the human world at this VERY moment.” Not often would she raise her voice, and not not often would she get so enraged while in front of a crowd. Certainly she was not afraid to show her ire or displeasure over a situation but this was clearly outside the norm. Althea was not happy, and she did not like surprises. Perhaps some people would leap at the opportunity for a call to adventure, one of unparalleled intrigue and mystery, but she was very much a realist and this was something she was firmly against. It wasn’t the years of attending a private Catholic school that made her so opposed to being in Hell, but rather that spending time in Hell was going to deviate her plans greatly.

“That is unfortunately not an option. You were chosen. That is something you can’t change.” Althea was about to speak again, staring towards Lucifer who was simply shaking his head.

“Althea, from now on you will be living in the House of Lamentation. You’ll be staying there with Lucifer and his six younger brothers. I can understand that this is not part of your plan but I hope you come to accept it in time. Humans, angels, demons, I imagine a universe where each accepts the other. Where we are brought together as friends. This is my dream, and I’m asking you to be the foundation for it. One year, that’s all I ask of you. Think of the amount of achievements you can accomplish in this time and just what you will be a part of. What I am counting on you for. I think you’ll find that it has many more benefits than you can imagine. Good luck, Althea.”

That damned overly cheerful expression on the Demon Lord’s face. There was no saying no to this, was there? No? Placing a hand on her hip, Althea dropped her hand that was growing sore from trying to massage her temples so much now. Inhaling swiftly through her nose, the audible adjustment of her posture. Fine. She’d play this little game of theirs.

“One year. One year and I am gone. We’ll see if the benefits outweigh the inconvenience this is causing me.” With a snap of her fingers, Althea turned and proceeded to the door from which Mammon came from, a swish and saunter of her hips as she spun.

“Come then- if you’re to be my caretaker and guide, I’ll best make use of you. With any luck, I won’t strangle you by the end of the day.”

“Hey- I’m not taking orders from a human. If anything you gotta Obey me!” Mammon quickened his pace to catch up as the two left the assembly hall.

“Yeah yeah…We’ll see about that...”

…

As the two left, Diavolo only smiled brightly towards Lucifer, sunlight practically beaming from him as the boisterous laughter followed up with his expression.

“I think those two will get along great!”

There was a nearly unanimous sigh or shake of the head from everyone else within the room as the moonlight upon the floor had only shifted ever so slightly since the start of the meeting. The only other reaction to be had was the echoing growl of Beelzebub’s stomach.

“Lucifer, I’m hungry.”

“Yes Beel, I know.”

#ObeyMe #ObeyMe!#ObeymeOC

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