#sobbing screaming crying throwing up hyperventilating on the floor pulling out my hair | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elysianslove · 4 years

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haikyuu boys that ━━

━━ would absolutely, definitely, 100% get nauseous, dizzy, possibly might faint, while their s/o is in labor. one peak and they’re doubling over the hospital bed, inhaling deeply and exhaling sharply, steeling themselves. some are surprising, some are expected. all are stupid.

iwaizumi hajime; he just cannot. he cannot fathom what is happening. there is no way you’re going through that and surviving. no wonder you’re screaming in pain. of course you’re screaming in pain. he takes one look at what’s going on and just immediately takes a step back, eyebrows raised and hand pressed to his chest like “my god.” he’s an 8/10 though because he is incredibly supportive and those arms are great to grab onto. will not complain for a second (is strangely way too quiet), but he’s worryingly pale. maybe he’s quiet cause if he speaks he’ll throw up.

miya atsumu; he’s this close to screaming. or crying. possibly both. he can’t tell if he’s scared in general or scared for you or if he’s hurting seeing you hurting. in fact, no one can tell. he just looks like he’s watching an alien abduction happen right before his eyes. like a 6/10 because he probably does actually faint. it’s almost as if he’s the one in labor. and he’s the annoying kind of supportive that makes you want to smack him like shut the fuck up i’m pushing a whole child out of me right now. but his reactions are extremely endearing and hilarious to watch back because he most definitely insisted on filming.

akaashi keiji; the silent struggler. really doesn’t wanna make it obvious at all. like he really, really, really doesn’t want you knowing that he’s uncomfortable in any way, but he’s like, sweating from how nauseous he is. a big part of it is hating seeing you in pain; he cringes every time you so much as groan or pant. 7/10 because he’s incredibly supportive but his hands are way too clammy :/ like fr get a grip keiji. again, supportive, but his voice is shaky so it’s like, really ineffective. he cries when he sees his baby and it automatically makes him an 11/10.

sakusa kiyoomi; absolute coward. pussy. it’s not about hygiene, he’s just genuinely mortified. keeps asking you’re okay like,,, what do you think, sir? he keeps looking even though every time he does it doesn’t get any better? question mark? you can see him visibly gulping cause he’s in so much shock. like a 5/10 because he forgets to hold your hand. just stands there. eyes wide and mouth parted like a dumb fish. chokes back on his sobs when he hears his baby’s cries and it’s adorable how he brings his hand up to silence himself so maybe he’s a 7/10.

goshiki tsutomu; please he probably has a panic attack mid labor. definitely screams with you and all the nurses and the doctor are like ???? holds your hand tighter than you’re holding his. apologizes the whole time. the whole time. like the doctor asked him if he wants to see what’s happening, which idk why they would consider that a smart idea, and he just wailed like, “baby i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry, can we just adopt?” a 3/10. he’s so cute but. bring someone else if you don’t want to rip your hair out and his.

kageyama tobio; he absolutely tries to pretend that he’s okay but he just gets really, really quiet once you start delivering and his lips are chapped and his pupils are blown and his face is so pale. he looks like he just got off of a really bad rollercoaster. he’s not even holding your hand you’re just hanging onto an unmoving, lifeless limb. maybe 6/10, cause he could be better in the supportive department but, at least he was quietly panicking. he does have a mini panic attack once his baby is in his arms though. like just starts hyperventilating. it’s okay though! it’s actually kind of cute <3

lev haiba; actually faints. not probably. he actually faints. like all 6′5 of him just drops onto the floor by your bed and you’re like ,,, damn, guess i’m doing this alone then. he wakes up and the first thing he sees is your baby crowning and he just faints again pls. someone has to be there with you, just like to help him to you. he cannot stand straight at all, he’s leaning on the bed the whole time. 5/10 because it genuinely makes you laugh it kind of makes the pain bearable. they have to get a chair in case he just falls back cause he’s just so dizzy pls.

━━ would be so fucking annoying. who the hell let them in this room? why did you agree to this? how are you going to raise a child with them? regrets. so many regrets.

tanaka ryūnosuke; he’s like annoyingly scared. shut up and calm down for a minute i’m trying to birth your child here. swears so much like “holy shit holy shit that’s a big baby.” like pls you’re trying to push it out of you and he has the audacity to say shit like that? treats it like it’s some sort of volleyball match like he cheers whenever the doctor praises you. maybe a 5/10 cause he’s just annoying, but it’s motivating in a way. accepts any insult you throw at him too, like he’s so on board with it. “yes, i’m absolutely a piece of shit— what do you mean you’re not getting anywhere near my dick babe wait.”

bokuto kōtarō; listen :( you don’t want to think he’s annoying but he lowkey is. he’s trying his hardest to make this an easier experience for you but you just need him to be a little quieter. like this hurts bo, calm down please. you want to match his energy but it’s literally physically impossible. he’s an 8/10 though because you doubt it’d have been possible to go through it without him. bokuto’s incredibly ripped too so he lets you hang onto him and he holds you tightly too, like grips your hands and legs so strong that it’s v physically supportive too.

kozume kenma; he’s so. quiet. like say something kozume. say anything. he’s just wincing and cringing. 4/10 cause where’s the emotion. lets you hold his hand, like wow you should be honored. insults you back if you insult him???? like what’s that about???? when he sees his baby he does like, sharply intake a breath or whatever cause he doesn’t want to cry but he’s really struggling not to, which is kind of cute you guess. films the whole thing and does like a peace sign with a very nonchalant face but he has a filter on and the filter scans your face too except you’re like screaming. actually a 3/10.

sugawara kōshi; he’s incredibly supportive yes, but mans will be laughing at you. laughing. at you. probably films you and is like properly giggling and laughing boisterously. is so unfazed by anything and everything he sees. he would so easily be a 10/10 but he becomes a -1/10 just cause he’s an ass. definitely like is breathless and is so mind-blown when he sees his baby. just in awe and in shock that he laughs like, “we made that holy crap.” good to have in the delivery room because he does make the atmosphere easier and more lighthearted, but,,, at what cost? your sanity’s.

suna rintarō; the amount of times you wanted to punch him you cannot count on your ten fingers. makes some sex joke about how you’re so stretched out. you literally want to deck him. films the birthing process and makes you watch the video when you’re not even done delivering the baby? cause he’s insane i guess? justifies it as “this is a reminder of how strong you are,” like shut up with your bullshit. it’s kinda smart tho cause you can pull this on your kid later but still. he’s so fucking annoying. if you hold his hand too hard he’ll be like “it can’t be that bad stop being such a baby,” and the baby is delivered like an hour early out of spite. a 6/10 tho cause somehow you love him and decided to have a baby with him.

ushijima wakatoshi; pt.2 to say fucking something??? he’s mostly quiet cause he doesn’t really know what to say, and cause he’s never seen you in this much pain and it’s kind of shocking him. he’s not scared though, cause it’s like, a natural process of human life and the life cycle and all that stuff, he’s just like. taking time to process it. lets you hold his hand though. also if you wanna like give up halfway through he’s annoyingly angry with you like “no. you can’t just give up halfway. stop being a coward.” like why don’t you give it a try toshi??? a 5/10. could do better.

terushima yuuji; so hyperactive that it’s infuriating. doesn’t even hold your hand, he just stands back and observes and like cheers. literally will jump every time you push, like what the fuck, my love? makes really weird comments like “what does it feel like? does it feel like you’re pooping?” like???? it feels like i’m being torn in half yu :D a 4/10 only cause when you ask if you can slap him he wholeheartedly agrees and the doctor cannot hold their laugh back. also definitely plays like the chika dance and makes the nurses do it with him. probably films a tiktok too. you’re going to kill him after.

oikawa tōru; he’s trying so hard to be supportive and your backbone but he’s just so jittery and nervous. he’s not going to faint or get nauseous, but he literally cannot stay still. he’s so anxious it’s making you anxious. his hands are shaking when they grip yours, but honestly, completely unbiased of course, an 8/10, cause it really is so endearing. like he’s breathlessly and exasperatingly praising you and you can tell he’s near tears just gasping back sobs so ,,, maybe he’s not that annoying. but he is. he is annoying. a little.

━━ would be the best of the best. perfectly supportive. a lovely anchor. not too quiet, not too chatty. is so soft and gentle with you. you fall in love with them all over again.

miya osamu; definitely a 10/10. husband material. he has a cloth that’s just patting away at your sweat. kisses your hand and knuckles. soothingly rubs at your thighs. tells you you’re doing great, that it’ll all be worth it. kisses your forehead. grins at you halfway through when you need that extra motivation. literally all the nurses and the doctor are swooning over him. he’s very nervous deep down but he won’t show it, not for a moment, for your sake. 10/10. can’t stress this enough.

kita shinsuke; another king! so soft with you when you feel like giving up. just speaks to you in hushed tones like, “you’ve come this far, lovely. you can’t back out now. think of all the happy moments we’ll get to share just a few hours from now.” and you’re like “alright i’m sold.” completely unfazed by anything he sees. okay maybe a little fazed but he just kisses your forehead after sneaking a peak and tells you you’re doing wonderfully. 100000/10. imagine him as the father of your children???? like literally who else would you want????

aran ojiro; wow another inarizaki i sense a trend. except atsumu he’s a pussy. cheers you on quietly, holds onto your legs, breathes with you, smooths your hair back, literally just an angel. if you take a small break he just spends it quietly talking with you to get your mind off the pain. his knuckles are just caressing your jaw and cheek softly till you’ve calmed down. 10/10 obviously. he’s just the right amount of loud supportive and quiet supportive. kisses you full on the mouth when he first hears his baby’s cries and can’t stop thanking you. literally wtf he’s so cute.

kuroo tetsurō; he’s actually surprisingly very serious when you’re delivering the baby. he’s cracking jokes and all before to try and get you less nervous but it’s actually because he’s freaking out. he’s mostly quiet, just holding onto your hand as tightly as you’re gripping his. he holds his breath every time you push. keeps whispering i love you and pressing kisses to your temple. a 9/10 cause he’s so quiet it’s a little scary but he cannot hold back his tears when he sees his baby. kisses you all over your face after.

satori tendō; very emotional. like so emotional. he’s teary eyed the whole time, just thanking you even if you hadn’t given birth yet. it makes the nurses cry too cause it’s so lovely to see him get so visibly affected by this. he’s just whispering thank you’s and i promise not to let you down ever and i promise to love you forever and you’re pretty sure he’s speaking to the baby you’re birthing at this point. 9/10 cause he made you cry :( no but really he’s a 10/10. super loving, keeps asking you if you’re okay, if you need water, need to hold his hand, anything. angel, fr.

matsukawa issei; relatively surprising as well because you expected him to be more than just annoying, but he’s just. in awe. he’s so amazed by how much you’re going through, and he just stores it in the back of his brain. literally thanks you for the next 50 years to come. laughs endearingly with you to lighten the mood. 9/10. a point is deducted because he jokingly said that now you’ll be able to take his dick really easily. a nurse choked in shock pls. gets real close after to whisper i love you so that only you can hear. he’s just a dream <3

━━ would not let you move an inch after giving birth. all the work is on them for the next 5 years.

all of them. not a single one is left out in this one. they’re annoying but ,,, they all love very strongly <3

end note; listen idk what this is. i had a vision where iwaizumi could not handle his s/o giving birth and the thought was actually so sweet to me, just the nurses laughing at him and he’s just breathing deeply to try and not throw up and then. this happened. anyways. this helped put me in a better mood so i hope it does/did for anyone else too!

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years

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The arrogant, ruthless Supervillain, who was always so vicious and condescending, defeated, broken, and too delirious to do anything but beg when the hero finds them... that is my fave trope.

Same, mine as well.

I didn't think this was an ask to write, so if it isn't, I'm sorry, but I had a really good idea for this.

Astronaut

@shydragonrider @the-sky-writes

Warnings: delirium, fever, captivity, space chase, bombing, panic attack, vomit, wounds, partial nudity (non sexual), past torture

*not edited*b

Hero sat Supervillain on a seat and buckled him in, mindful of where his injuries were in relation to the belt. He groaned in pain and protest, throwing his head backwards in a hoarse sob.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Hero said quickly, momentarily cupping his cheek before rushing to the controls of her rocket. It was a intricate thing with too many different buttons, levers, and colors to make sense of. Still, she knew exactly what to do. She rammed the aircraft into flying mode and switched on autopilot, taking a split second to navigate a safe path through the infinite cosmos.

She returned to Supervillain's side and looked into his pale, unfocused face. He breathed heavily between wails and sniffles, not making eye contact with his savior. His fingers naturally curled and clenched as his sides as mucus gurgled in his chest. Tears sprang from his eyes.

Hero had found him, in a space ship, beaten brutally and deliriously crying in his agony. After breaking him out of the small chest that his captors called "his room", he had started to beg incoherently. He made no sense whatsoever, babbling on and on about random things. Then he would scream suddenly and sporadically, clawing aimlessly at Hero's chest.

He was awake, but not there and was vividly still trapped in whatever fantasy he imagined himself into.

So Hero carried him out, kicking and knocking out many of Vigilante's underlings- they were weak and not very well trained, in their defenses.

When she finally set him in that seat and buckled his writhing form in, she was somewhat exhausted and sweaty herself. But she knew that she had to drive her rocket away as fast as possible and take care of the bleeding man who was currently slumped in a seat at the verge of falling unconscious.

Hero ran a hand through his grimey, blood coated hair with a sigh and gently unbuckled him. She pulled off his shirt, watching as his arms limply fell to the sides as if he lost all muscle mass.

Immediately, he doubled over, body curling to a seemingly natural position for him. It made Hero's heart wrench- he had been in that box, a box hardly the size of a dog crate, for so long that even unconscious his body was conditioned to react.

Hero straightened him back up to examine the injuries. His ribs were heavily bruised and jutting out in various areas. His torso was covered in welts and old cuts, many infected, as if he was whipped. A lot. Those would need antibiotic cream, probably some draining-

The ship jerked suddenly to the side, throwing her off balanced. Instinctively, she strapped the buckles over the supervillain's chest, and ran to the controls. Every alarm was blaring red and screeching. She glanced over at the computerized pixels that made up a small replica of her ship- the rear side seemed to be hit by something. Nothing was critically damaged, but it still meant that something hit her.

A flaming, green ball of something whizzed past the corner of Hero's eyes. She stiffened, heart beginning to race. They were being bombed.

Hero took the rocket out of autopilot and turned on the cameras. Looking at the small, live recording in front of her, she saw Vigilante's ship chasing after her's. The sharp pointed nose and wide wings made it look daunting, but Hero knew that was all design.

It wasn't fast, though it had decent aim. All Hero had to do was get out of there as fast as possible.

Hero made a sharp turn, jostling Supervillain around. He groaned loudly, but Hero didn't have the time to comfort him.

Another bomb raced past her.

Hero started zig zagging, desperate to rid herself of the lethal balls of fire. They were incessant, one after the other after the other.

"Please don't hurt me!" Supervillain suddenly screamed. Hero glanced behind her to see him cowering in his seat, panting. However, in that split second of distraction, she was rocked sideways again.

Hero focused back on her mission and steered the rocket to the left. The bomb she evaded smacked right into a neaby asteroid, causing it to burst into peices.

"Please!" Supervillain hollered, thrashing against the seatbelt. His heavy breathing turned shallow, but Hero had bigger things to worry about.

Not only was she dodging flying fireballs, but know she had asteroid debris clocking in at one hundred miles per hour. She flew past them with professional precision.

"N-no," Supervillain whimpered, now smacking his head into the headrest of his seat. Hero risked a glance. His face was noticeably even paler, blanched to the point of white, as his fingers trembled. His dazed eyes darted around like a fly, buzzing here and there, taking in everything.

And everything was overwhelming him.

"Supervillain," Hero called, watching her camera. "You need to calm down buddy, okay? No one is going to hurt you anymore." If you would shut up and let me concentrate...

"N-not not... t'day pleas," Supervillain slurred, head dangling limply in fatigue and exhaustion before he picked it back up again, crying loudly.

"Shh," Hero tried to shush him, but failed. He wiggled like a worm as his voice locked itself in an endless current of screams.

A bomb flew by overhead, missing Hero by only five feet. She groaned and focused back on the black abyss she was traveling through, illuminated by the celestial bodies floating about. Supervillain's episode woule have to be ignored, for the sake of both of them.

The ship was suddenly deathly quiet.

However Hero did not realize that the cause of the supervillain's sudden silence was because he was hyperventilating, choking on his own breathing. She was zoned into the camera, watching the coming fireballs intently.

Supervillain watched her, trying his hardest to calm his rapid breathing and heartbeat. The world was growing out of focus... he couldn't breathe... couldn't breathe.

He felt like he was going to throw up. Oh gosh he was. The world tossed and turned in front of his eyes, pivoting forward and sideways.

"H-hero," he moaned, nausea thick in his voice.

She didn't reply.

Supervillain vomitted all over the floor, finally able to draw in a shaky breath. He gasped for air, to satisfy his burning lungs that didn't possess it for so long.

Only, he started sobbing again. It wasn't intentional, of course it wasn't. Crying was for the weak and he wasn't weak. Or was he? Because he was crying now? He was weak wasn't he?

These thoughts sent Supervillain back into another panic attack. His chest seized threateningly, but he did not thrash like before. He just allowed the cloud to wash over him.

When Hero finally escapes the bombardment, she idled the engine down in a bade to save fuel and ran over to her new ward. He was half-asleep, eyes halfway closed as his body breathed for him- air rushing into his body in large gulps.

"Supervillain? Supervillain? Hey, hey." Hero tapped Supervillain's cheek. "Wake up for me, will you? You're hyperventilating. Breathe, bud, breathe."

Supervillain slowly took a breath in before falling against his savior's shoulder, sniffling.

#supervillain whumpee #hero caretaker #vigilante whumper #past torture #hero x supervillain #captivity whump #feverish whumpee #delirious whumpee #panic attack #heros and villains

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zuffer-weird-girl · 3 years

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A villain is always a villain.

LISTEN. THERE IS SO MANY TRIGGER ON THIS THERE IS NO HAPPY ENDING OR NO FLUFF I SWEAR IS PURE ROTTEN ANGST DONT READ IT.

"I'm sorry sir. But even with your quirk, your wife would suffer immense pain over the procedure and die on the bed.... and... my sincerity apologizes... but she's got only one week."

He couldn't exactly describe what he felt when those words from the doctor left his mouth and arrived to his ears. He didn't had even know when he had overhauled his gloves and the chair he was in making him fall on the ground and come back to his senses...

Everything... was falling apart. If he was only fast enough to get the symptoms appearing... he could have prevented, it would have caused you an huge amount of pain but at least you would've have survived.

Why hadn't he noticed it?

Because he was living his dream.

Because you two married. Had beautiful moments together... and just about one year and a half ago had a son. A health kid.

He was happy. He even talked about it with Pops, and the old man suggested for him to leave the Hassaikai for a while to raise his kid on a peaceful environment, but he refused. Knowing Pops hadn't had any contact with that good for nothing daughter of his neither the possible granddaughter he had. So he could give the man some of his immensely gratitude towards him.

But suddenly... everything was falling apart.

First it was the frequent coughing, even your baby was worried but soon you waved them off saying it was just a cold. Chisaki fooled himself on believing on that.

After all he was so happy.

Then, your voice started to change to a more forced and rough one. He started to worry but no, no... his perfect wife, such a angel, couldn't be on any danger... it was just a flu. He would take care of her.

Despite having germophobia, his love for you was just as strong. He wore masks and gloves, sure, but he still was willing to spend time on the same room and give you the comfort you needed.

Then it happened... one day on his office... he heard the coughing fit and suddenly a loud crying from hsi son made him storm out of his office to find you on the ground, a paper close to your hand covered in blood.

He never drove so fast on his life to the hospital.

And now... there he was, staring at the ground as he clinched on his wife's weak hand on the bed with the machines attached to her. His son, as innocent as ever was playing with his mother fingers.

The chemotherapy wasn't enough. The quirks from teh doctors couldn't help her, he couldn't help her...

The nurses came in and told that visit time was over... he had to drag his sobbing and crying two years old out of the room.

His tears were falling as well, but he had to be strong. He had to be the oen who had to be a pillar for his own child.

Pops had to be the oen explaining to Kan the situation and why his father seemed so sad and distant. The kid entered his office at night, sniffling and looking at his father's eyes with his (E/c).

Kan cried himself to sleep on his father chest, and Kai didn't mind it the snot or tears on his messed up black dress shirt. The documents on his desk were soaked with his own tears anyway.

"You're making a big deal about this." Your weak voice interrupted his memories and he scowled at your weak serene expression and smile.

"Dont. Not with this." He murmured as he watched his son give his painting to his mom... he wiped your tears away as you hugged your Kan, kissing his dark brow hair as the little boy murmured his love for you.

At the next day at the evening you let out your last breath and he cried and screamed on the bed until his voice was gone.

"You have to sleep boss." He heard Chrono as he blinked, the bags under his eyes were huge as he sighed.

"I can't. I need to go after those debtors of the drugs and then take care of Kan. He hadn't been eating very well since..." he couldn't help but almost choke up at remembering.

"... how about this? I go after them? Spend time with my favorite nephew."

"... you have some of my gratitude Chronostasis. Dont let the old man know about this, he would never stop talking about it. We need the money and the respect we need."

"Got it."

"And dont call my son your nephew. Is disgusting." He spoke while exiting the office as Kurono snorted.

"I am his godfather though."

He sighed as he hot upstairs and found Kan with equal sad and depressed eyes as his starting at a frame he held with his tiny fingers.

"Kan." The kid gasped and put the frame back and bowed to his father with a sniffle "... come on. I guess, both of us could use some rest."

Kan simply nodded and followed his father but was surprised to see Kai picked him up and brought him to sleep by his side.

He felt something stiring on his side and saw his son leaving the bed.

"Bathroom." Kan muttered as Kai nodded and got up only to stop at hearing "No da. I go, you sleep."

This kid reminded him so much of you with this goddamn kindness.

He waited a few minutes until he got up and followed the kid, enough to not make a appearance and give his son some confidence but he still had only two years.

... or maybe he just didn't felt like leaving his son alone.

But just as he entered the hall he felt something hitting the back of his head hard enough to make him fall face plant on the ground.

"Restrains his hands! His quirk can kill you with one finger of his on your skin!" He heard a voice and immeditaly recognize one of the debtors, and also someone caging his hands on a manner he couldn't even move them.

Must be some sort of dicease.

"Now, mister sucessor." A man with a missed tooth crouched down to his level and grabbed his hair to lift his head to his eye level "We could use some of negotiating eh?"

He only glared at the man before he muffled his scream of pain when the guy slammed his face on the floor hard enough to make a bruise.

"Cooperate with us and then we will get out of here. You give the drugs and leave us with our money with a bit of yours, and no one gets hurt."

"Go.. to hell-ARGH-!" Something pierced his abdomen hard enough to blood to spill and land on the floor.

This had to happened when Chrono had to get all the guards to collect cash and Pops on a damn convention, of course.

"Wrong answer yakuza. I'm gonna make it simple for ya, where is the money you all have?"

"If you think I will give you information..." he hissed at the knife piercing more "Then you must be just as dumb as your parents on the thought of making you, you sick bastard."

His head was slammed on the ground and it was enough to break his nose... just as the guy was about to slam it again a sound of a door creaking open made his eyes snap wide open and look at the figurine with equal wide eyes and clutching the door at seeing his father layed on the ground.

"K-K..Kan...." he eyed his son in fear as sweat and hives started to appear on his skin.

"Daddy?" Kan muttered in fear and the man was smilling widely at the sign.

"Oh? He is your daddy?" Kai started to throw his body around and tried to move but only could scream at his son to run but it was to late since the guy grabbed the boy by his nape. "My, those eyes you have.. are they from your mother?"

Kan trembled as Kai shouted profanities at the man as his helper held him down.

"..Hm. I heard that your wife died man.. rough. Being a single dad and the future owner of this big hellhole you got here." The man made two of his finger fuse and form into a sharp kinda like knife and cut the cheek of the boy, making the boy flinch and whimper.

"LEAVE MY SON OUT OF THIS. DONT TOUCH HIM WITH YOUR DIRTY AND INFECTED HANDS!"

"Then let's make a deal?" He holded the kid down and aproached the object to the boy's throat. "The life of the son of the woman you loved is more worth than some couple of cash eh?" He chuckled darkly.

He was about to agree until Chrono opened the door with the eight precepts and saw the scene.

"Fuck-"

"KAN GET DOWN!" Kai manage to shout at his son the house was filled with shooting and the eight precepts attacking the subbordinates of the debtor who had held his son captive.

Chrono shot the guy who was holding him down and he quickly activated his quirk to kill the man and get up only to his eyes to widen at seeing his son being dragged down by the debtor and some other muscular guy as the kid screamed for him and kicked his legs to try to get away.

He ran out and was about to slam his hand his hand on the ground without any gloves until he heard the shout to stop and his eyes widen at seeing the man holding a grenade up and his son caged on his arm.

"PAPA!"

"One more movement and your kid gets turned into pieces along with us OVERHAUL!"

He panted in desperation and raised his hand up.

"G... Give my son back." The man laughed as his sunglasses, in the middle of the night using sunglasses what a idiot, fell down.

"LOOK AT THE DESPERATION IN YOUR TONE OVERHAUL! IS PRICELESS!"

The sound of his laughter dissapeared when all four them heard sirens and sounds of heroes coming.

"Boss, I prefer to die than to go to jail." The muscular man mumbled as the debtor gave a little sick giggle before tilting his head at Chidaki, looking him dead in the eyes as he hugged Kan close to his chest and pulled the trigger of the grenade.

"See ya in hell, Overhaul."

"KAN-!" He shouted and ran but teh explosion made him his body slam back on the house, losing his conciousness and hearing only the buzz on his ears and the sound of.. Pops? Kurono? Calling his name as he blacked out.

He woke up with a groan and immeditaly put his hand on his face, feeling a nasty scar but then repairing it but soon widening his eyes.

"KAN!" He screamed and burst out of the room only to be found at the hospital he was starting to hyperventilate until he felt a old and familiar hand grab his shoulder.

"Kai you-"

"WHERE IS HE?!" He grabbed the man's shoulders as tears fell from hsi golden eyes "WHERE IS MY SON?!"

"Chisaki please-" the moment the elder went to speak Kai eyes dropped on a a gurney, small with a sick person dragging her to the morgue... with a tag wrapped around her wrist that looked like a child's... written his son's name on it.

"No... No. no no nO NO NO THAT IS MY SON YOU FUCKING IDIOT DONT!" he was about to kill the poor nurse until Pops grabbed onto him and made him calm down by force as the man howled like a terrible and horrendous beast.

"Kai... stop with this. We dont deal with drugs."

"Chisaki we have rules to follow. That's not how we work around here."

"Have you lost your humanity?"

... yes.

Yes he did lost it. The moment his wife and son were taken away from him...

He wasn't a human anymore.

He had one goal now, and he would make it real.

Even if it meant the yakusa, the heroes, Eri... everyone suffered just as much as he had.

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #bnha villains #overhaul #chisaki kai #kai chisaki x reader #bnha villains x reader #zuffer writings

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writingsfromhome · 4 years

Text

Bad Timing I

A/N: This is you and your ex, (Detective) Harry, winding up in each other’s lives again after a traumatic event in your life. I’ve had this idea in my notes app for like a year, and I just decided to go for it this week! It’s a little all over the place as I set it up but I think the next part will go a lot better if you can stick with it (and I appreciate you if you can <3).

Warnings: Violence (guns), PTSD?

Part 1 / (.5) / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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I had booked Thursday and Friday off in advance. I made sure my e-mails were forwarded, my clients were told I wouldn't be in, and any internal matters were allocated to my assistant. It was going to be a relaxing long weekend where I could have a homemade meal for once and watch Netflix all day. I was my branch’s youngest director and even though it was a fulfilling job, I hadn't had a day off since I got the position four months ago.

This was probably why, at 9am, I get a call from my assistant. One of our bigger clients was refusing to discuss his loan terms with anyone and wanted to speak to me directly.

"Tell him I'm not in Adam, you shouldn't even be calling me-I have the bloody day off."

"Yess but he said he's coming in at 10 and if you're not here he's switching banks for his personal and business accounts." Adam stuttered. “If you lose this client H-”

"Jesus," I look at my outfit and the time-I barely had any time to make it to the bank; it took me 40 minutes just to get to work. "I'll be there-distract him if I'm late. Oh! Ask about his daughter's new private school!"

I rush to my room and apply minimal makeup, pull back my y/h/c hair and throw on my black cigarette pants and a blazer. I'm halfway down the lift when I realise I was still in my t-shirt. "Shite," I mutter. I button the blazer and put my scarf around my neck so it's covered. That was decent enough for my day off.

I arrive breathless and sweaty 5 minutes early to the bank despite the cool weather. Might have seemed like a win if that wasn’t when everything went downhill. Just as I walk up to the side door, waving at Adam who was walking out to greet me, a crash from the entrance startles me.

"Hands up!” A loud voice booms from behind me. “Don't touch a fucking thing!" I turn, seeing Adam’s shocked expression, just in time to be shoved to the floor by four people dressed all in black, and wearing celebrity masks. In all my time working here, I’d never been part of a bank heist and some part of me is frozen, mind blank. I wasn’t even supposed to be here!

"I said to put your hands up!" The one with a Brad Pitt face points the gun around the room as people scramble for cover. I inch backwards to the counter as I watch them manhandle the customers and pull our bankers to the floor. I release a breath, trying to snap out of the shock I seemed to be in. The base of a column digs into my back and I focus on that to ground myself, scanning each robber, and where my employees were. Adam has his hands on his head, the closest one to me. I try to catch his eye to reassure him but he’s squeezing them tight. I didn’t blame him, Brad Pitt stands over him menacingly. I look to the customers, they weren’t trying to be smart--that was good. I’d watched enough TV to know that was never a smart move.

Just as I think that, from the corner of my eye, I catch Cole, one of our guards reach for his gun. A loud shot echoes through the small space and I swivel my head trying to see what's happened while making sure everyone was okay. The thief wearing a Kanye West mask, manning the front entrance of the bank, had shot Cole in the arm and he was bleeding all over the floor. My first instinct is to help him but I'm yanked back down before I make it a step.

"We’re not missing the next person who moves a muscle. I want you all to drop your phones in the middle! No. Fucking. Funny business." The thief who shot Cole points his gun to all of us and it takes all of me to not hyperventilate. I hear a few people crying but I don't dare look. Instead, I watch on as David Beckham drags Cole to the side and ties his hands behind him. I can see by the wincing that they didn’t care whether they twisted his arms too hard. This wasn’t a petty robbery, they were hardcore.

"Who has the passcode to the vault?" Brad Pitt asks as one of his friends goes around zip tying everybody's hands behind them. When nobody answers he shoves the gun in Adam’s face and I let out a sob. What did we do to deserve this?

"Me," I choke out. “Don’t hurt him, I have the passcode. I know it.”

"You?" The man asks. "You better not be lying bitch or you'll be joining your friend there."

I nod as he pulls me up by the arm and uses my scarf to tie my hands. I try to stay calm, the only way I could get through this before the police arrived was to keep my calm. Everything in me is screaming to do something--fight, scream, swear, cry, but I keep my mouth shut and follow Brad Pitt and the joker to the back. I'm led at gunpoint to the vault and they untie me so I can put in the code and my thumbprint. The one in a Joker mask presses her gun into my back and I know the least of my worries was a bruise but that was the only thing I could focus on.

She shoves me forward when I pause, hovering my finger over the finger pad, in the distance I hear sirens. Please let us all be okay, I pray.

"Don’t be a fucking hero, let’s go!" The female behind me yells in my ear and I rush to press my thumb.

As soon as I finish the procedure, I feel an explosion like fireworks against the side of my head and everything goes dark.

H POV:

I walked into the station around 10, just having come back from a nearby escalated domestic call. It wasn’t the craziest thing I’ve ever been involved in at 10am on a Thursday morning.

"Harry, there seems to be some sort of commotion near Holborn, the director wants you in his office." Serena, the receptionist tells me gravely. I don’t even consider the street, assuming it would be another criminal to go after. But when I go into the office, we get the rundown: there was a robbery happening at the HSBC. That’s when I understand the gravity of the situation.

"We’ve sent a few men right now, they seemed to be armed so proceed with caution." He warns. I had been on the force for over four years; I moved rank fast and knew how to handle myself so the warning was mostly for the junior constables. But my heart thuds violently in my chest when I think about the possibility...no. I had to focus. But I can’t help but try her cell on our way to the scene. When it continues to ring, my thoughts go to the worse place possible. I know I hadn’t spoken to her in nearly a year, like she wanted, but if anything happened to her, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.

When we arrive at the scene, the thieves are still inside. I make sure nobody makes any moves, following protocol, and trying to gauge the exact situation inside. But before I could give orders, a man holding up his zip-tied hands shuffles out of the building. I notice the terror on his face and the fact that he's not armed.

"Down!" I say. The restless energy building up inside of me makes every move feel frantic.

"They left out the back! They left!" The man's shaky voice reaches our ears. I gesture a few of the officers to head around back and radio in the update.

"Get his statement, be sensitive,” I snap at the closest officer before I take a few of my officers indoors. The scene inside only reminds me why I do what I do, there's glass on the floor, phones in a pile and bullets littering the floor. Everyone looks shocked, people are crying, and a man in the corner is bleeding profusely.I scan all their faces but I don’t see her. I pray that she might have taken the day off today or something, even though I knew she rarely every did. Where was she?

"Medical," I order. I face the crowd, "You're all alright, If everyone can slowly get up and follow Officer McGregor out, we'll see that your belongings are returned to you and collect statements later. You’re all alright now."

"Sir," a bloke off to the side steps forward from the group getting up. "Our manager was taken to the back...we're not sure how she is, she hasn't come out...”

I reassure the crowd she should be fine. I didn't want them to see me panic, not to mention if we had any casualty the press outside were going to bombard this crowd with insensitive questions and I really wanted to keep this on the low. I was considered young for a DCI and any screw up meant I took it twice as hard. And I didn’t know if I could behave normally if I didn’t find her in any way except breathing. I put on my brave face.

I get an officer to stand by and venture cautiously into the back, spotting an open vault. I hurry into the area when I spot her, laying motionless on the floor.

“Y/N,” I rush forward, skidding on my knees to check on her. “Pleasepleaseplease.” I put my fingers to her pulse and nearly shout in relief. She was alive! I send a thanks out into the universe, to whoever was watching over her. “Y/N! Y/N, can you hear me?”

Her eyes flutter under her lids. I turn her gently onto her back, she was wearing a Green Day t-shirt under a smart jacket and trousers--that was unlike her. She always dressed very smart. I gently remove her short strands off her face to reveal a nasty bruise on the side of her head. I try to stifle my heartbeat; it scared me seeing her like this. I’m about to call my officer but her long lashes flutter and suddenly she's looking at me, dazed.

"Y/N! Are you alright?" I inquire. She blinks, and then again, her eyebrows drawn together as she stares at me. I try again, “Y/N, answer me please! Are you alright?”

"I...do I...bloody look alright? Where did they go?" She snaps out of her daze and tries to sit up but her hand goes to her head which must be throbbing. I place a hand on her back so she doesn't fall back down.

"Oh thank god,” I sigh in relief, she could talk. She was alright. “Th-they’'ve managed to escape. We'll deal with that. You were knocked unconscious so we should get you checked-”

"Those bastards," she snarls. I bite back a chuckle as I help her up. She pushes me away as soon as she's on her feet. "I wasn't even supposed to bloody be here today you know that? It was my day off and....Jesus.” She clutches her forehead. “How's everyone else? Chris? Adam?"

"Everyone is fine, your guard’s being taken to hospital. Everyone else is untouched, we need to have you checked out though." I am mesmerized, as always, by her ability to talk about ten things at once.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s my case, I guess,” I tell her, expecting the question. She scowls. “I’ll have to ask you some questions later, but Y/N we need to have your head checked.”

“I’m sure you’d like that,” she mumbles.

“You’re proving by the second that you’re quite alright but we’ve got to get you to a medic anyway,” I gesture forward so she can walk ahead of me. I didn’t want her falling or anything. The constable at the door watches her walk out and eyes me warily.

"She need her statement taken chief?"

"I'll take her down to the station myself--she's hurt." I dismiss the officer and follow Y/N out. I wanted to keep an eye on her right now. “Can I help you walk?”

“My legs are working fine,” she snarls whilst clutching her forehead.

Your POV:

I could not believe today's turn of events. I was supposed to have a relaxing day off but instead, I’m rushed to work so I could be held up by thieves, forced to help them rob my branch, only to be mildly concussed. And the person on the case is none other than my ex-husband Harry Styles.

The only thing going for me is that I don't cry easily (or i would be a sniffling mess right now). And Harry was the last person I wanted to cry in front of although he’s seen me at much worse. I push aside those memories, ignoring his lingering eyes and try to walk ahead of him.

I cover up my shaking hands by stuffing them under the blanket I'm wrapped in when Harry leads me to the ambulance. He stays to the side while the medic goes through a questionnaire and informs me on what I need to know about being mildly concussed. All I could think about is the feeling of a gun pressed to the small of back, the chill of it through fabric.

"Miss?" The medic asks.

"Sorry, I got it. Yes. Thank you."

"I asked how you got here?" The medic begins to look concerned. Shit. I did not want more attention.

"I...meant I got what you were saying. Sorry, I rode the tube in."

"Great. You can ride with me to the station," Harry says from the side. I avoid his gaze but I have to agree. There was no way I was taking the tube during a time like this. I had a concussion.

So I'm sat in the back whilst Harry drives with his partner. I catch Harry glancing in the rear-view more often than he should and when we make eye contact, he gives me a reassuring smile. But sitting in the back of the car, I feel like the metal tip of a gun still keeps my spine straight. My lungs feel like they're not expanding large enough for air and I clutch the seatbelt strapping me in. I try to name all the countries I could remember--a coping technique I’d used since I was a kid to try and distract myself.

"You alright miss?" The other officer sounds concerned.

"Yeah," I choke out. "Just a little stuffy back here."

"Oh ‘m sorry," Harry opens the back window and I greedily gulp the fresh air coming in. My panic subsides and I settle back into the seat.

"And that's all you remember?" Harry sits on the desk chair next to me even though his own seat remains empty behind the desk.

"Exactly as I've told you, like, 20 times Harry."

It was now two hours later; I'd sat waiting for an hour before receiving my phone only to find multiple calls from the bank’s higher-ups. After dealing with them, I had to wait another half hour before finally being interviewed. I proceeded to drink two cups of bad coffee while giving every detail of what I remember, their masks, and so on. Every time I said something that could help, Harry would backtrack and I would explain it three different ways. It was frustrating and the repetition kicked my anxiety up so that I was on the edge of a breakdown. I grip the arms of the chair and respond to Harry. "Listen, alright, why would I not be telling you the full story? Of course that's all I bloody remember! It's not like I had an out-of-body experience and I saw them leave through the back door.”

"I'm sorry Y/N, it's just routine." Harry keeps a straight face on. "We have a few suspicions we're trying to corroborate by interviewing everyone involved. I promise I’m just being thorough-"

"Yeah yeah alright, you sound like you're reading from a bloody manual," I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh into the silence. When Harry doesn't say anything, I look up to see him watching me with an amused expression.

"What?" I ask, annoyed.

"It’s been a while...I forgot how charming you can be.”

“What can I say, you bring it out in me.”

"Very interesting outfit by the way," he takes my snark in stride, gesturing to my outfit with his pen instead. I cross my arms in front of me. He's still got the stupid expression on his face, it looks unchanged from the one he used to give me once upon a time. When he found something I did funny but in a loveable way; the feelings that surface are almost unbearable.

"Don’t judge my outfit, I had to rush to work for our client meet-oh shit." I pull out my phone and check my email but there's nothing from the client. Probably avoiding the shit show. I notice the time, with all the time I’d wasted today I may as well not have taken the day off at all.

"So you weren't meant to be at work today except for this client? Bad timing isn’t it." Harry reads to himself from his notes. I stare at him, wishing I could burn a hole into his skull to see if he really had a brain in there.

"I've told you this five times before, Harry. You're literally reading from your notes. If you're just going to ask the same questions over and over I’m sure you can find the answers in there and I can go home."

"Right but something doesn't add up, I just want to make sure I have all the details."

"Do I have to be here to watch you do your mental maths?" I wasn't very nice when anxiety and frustration became my base emotions. But Harry knew that.

He looks at me, eyebrows raised at my snark. "I'm sure that you want to get to the bottom of this just as much as I do-"

"But that's not my job," I remind him. "That's yours. I've done mine, and I'd really just like to go home." My voice cracks, and I feel a rush of embarrassment.

"How about I drop you off home? I can walk through the day with you once more during the drive?”

He looks at me expectantly, “I’d rather stab myself in the eye.”

"Best not to with the concussion,” Harry pushes my buttons, and I’m kind of surprised. The last time we saw each other he’d been accommodating to my anger but he was pushing back today. Like he used to when we were together when he riled me up simply because he found it amusing.

When I scowl though, he gets serious. “Y/N, just let me give you a ride home and we can talk more.”

I didn’t want to stand around arguing, I was tired, so I just agree. He smiles, his dimples making a pretty appearance. Damn him.

H POV:

I’m surprised she agrees to ride home with me. I knew Y/N had a stubborn streak and giving in to my offer was new. She’d made it clear last time we saw each other that she wanted nothing to do with me. I was also curious to know where she lived, I’d only been to her office once since we’d split. And that was usually to drop off papers.

She actually answers my questions on the drive, albeit they’re one word answers, but she gives me space to talk out some theories I had. But she also disagrees with most of them, pointing out their flaws. The comfortable back-and-forth between us is bittersweet. This was why we were married once upon a time. We worked well together; after all, we’d been friends for years before dating the other. It was the friendship I missed the most when I thought about us.

When we drive up to her address, it’s a townhome in a decent part of the city. Her promotion clearly had its perks.

I leap out of the car to open her door before she could but she beats me to it, scowling at me as she realises what I was trying to do.

“So you live here?” I try to ease into a conversation, get her to open up, ask her how she was doing. But she looks at me like I’d asked a stupid question, waving her keys.

“You’re kind of dense for a detective,” she says when I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t look so shocked.”

“Forget I asked,” getting personal was useless.

“Done.” She always manages to get the last word. She climbs her steps but I follow her up. She eyes me as she finds the correct one on her key ring. “What?”

“I just-have you got anyone living with you?”

“What’s that got to do with the case?” She asks, her defenses going up.

“You’re concussed, it’s best you have someone with you for the next 24 hours like the med-”

“I’ll be fine Harry,” her sharp edges soften but still, she only opens her door wide enough to step through. I can barely see anything behind her except for a hall.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” I try again.

“Nice of you to care,” the way she says it implies a deeper meaning, one that borders on a dangerous topic.

“I’m serious Y/N, this--a concussion’s no joke. And it was traumatic what you went through you really shouldn’t-”

“I’ve been on my own for a while now, I’ll be okay.” There she goes having the last word again. I raise my hands and back off.

“If you say so. I’ll...head back to the station but if you need anything, well, you know how to reach me.”

She nods, closing the door softly behind her. I sigh, it was a whirlwind last few hours but I was just grateful Y/N was going to be okay. I know she hated me, but I still cared about her. It was hard not to. We’d known each other for over a decade, and even though I hurt her in our past, and she might not agree with me, I cared. Caring about her didn’t have an on/off switch. I only wanted her to be okay. Maybe even happy.

Y POV:

I go through the motions for the rest of the afternoon, mostly I sit zoned out in front of the window while the morning plays like a loop in my head. Something about having your life hang in the balance of a stranger’s pointer finger made it feel so fragile. It unraveled me, and I can’t focus on anything. I just keep feeling the gun on my back, and smashing against the side of my head.

I keep my head iced, and avoid screens except to send out a couple emails and to call my sister after 8 voice messages that progresses from panic after hearing the news to annoyance as I don’t respond. When she finds out Harry’s on the case she swears.

“That bastard,” I can see her face in my mind, the one where she pursues her lips like mum used to. “You should report him, conflict of interest right? It’s traumatic enough what you’ve been through, you poor thing. I was just talking to Lewis and he said I should come down to stay with you this weekend-”

“That’s really alright,” I nip the idea in the bud. I loved my sister dearly but she was an overly anxious person and I don’t think that would be helpful for me right now. “It’s just a mild concussion, the medic said I should be cleared after 24 hours so it would only be a hassle for you to come down here.”

“Alright,” she says grudgingly. “But you say the word and I’m on the first train out. And I’ll give that ex of yours an earful if he’s anywhere near you again.”

I smile at my sister’s overprotective nature, “I appreciate the offer, but I think I can manage that fine on my own.”

“That you can,” she laughs.

But when I put down the phone, the silence creeps in again. And normally I loved the quiet but like a broken record player, the voices and sounds from this morning continue to play in a loop in the silence.

I give up after 7 and start preparing for bed. But a call interrupts my nightly routine.

“Y/N,” it’s Harry. “It’s me, Harry.”

“I do have call display,” I say dryly.

“Right, I...wasn’t expecting you to pick up.”

“Is this about the case?” I was hoping he was calling to say the bastards were caught.

“Oh...not exactly. I was wondering if you’ve fed yourself. I’m in your area for work, it’s my last call. I thought I could bring you some takeout or...?”

“I was about to get ready for bed.” I reply.

“Oh. That’s early? Have you had dinner?”

I think about the pathetic cheese toast I’d managed to make. My stomach growls thinking about food, I didn’t seem to have an appetite until he’s said something. “Fine, only if you’re in my area.”

Surely, not even 10 minutes go by and by doorbell rings. Harry stands outside with a takeout bag, his pressed shirt from this morning is more rumpled with a few buttons undone.

“I parked on the street--is that alright?”

“I guess? You’re just here to drop this off.” I shrug.

“Actually I uh, I thought I’d keep you some company.”

“I...” I don’t know if I should be offended. “I don’t need company. I only agreed to the takeout.”

“I’m part of the package,” he hides the bag behind him, a smug smile on his face. I roll my eyes, it was too late to do this with him.

So I leave the door open and head inside, tightening my robe around me. Harry was part of my past and having him here, in the place I’d built myself back again, feels wrong. This was where I’d shed the identity of being a divorcee before 30, and here he was. When I turn to see why he was so quiet, I find him scanning my gallery wall and smiling at the pictures.

“Hey, I’m on here,” he points to a small group picture.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I walk back to him to get the food. “I just looked good there.”

It was a shot from my sister’s wedding, Harry and I with the newlyweds. It was taken a few weeks before we’d made us official actually--moving from friends to lovers was maybe one of the bigger mistake I’d made in life. Another was agreeing to marry him.

“I look pretty good too,” he leans in closer. I ignore him and take the cartons of Chinese out and grab cutlery. He joins me, I hand him a beer and take a sparkling water for myself. “How’ve you been feeling?”

“Okay,” I shrug. “Just sorting through it all. Trying to avoid screens, all that.”

“That’s good,” he steals a chicken from the container I’m dumping into my plate. I eye him but he just grins, chewed food between his cheeks. I let it slide. “So you’re not supposed to sleep with a concussion or something?”

I sigh, “That’s not true, I only have a mild concussion!”

“Well I’m not a bloody doctor!”

“Thank god for that.”

“You’ll never stop doing that will you?” He rubs his chopsticks together and attempts to eat with him. “Always so snarky.”

“I can’t help it,” I continue to watch him fail with his chopsticks and pick up a fork. “It sustains me.”

“You should try being nice for once.”

“Tried it once, didn’t work out well for me. So...here I am.”

I was being passive, I knew that. He knew that with the way he eyes me over his food. He keeps quiet though, knowing there was nothing he could say in this moment to make a difference. We eat in silence until he receives a call and he leaves to take it. I clean up so by the time he gets back I’ve just loaded the dishwasher.

“I know the sleep thing’s not true for you,” Harry says as he approaches. “But I think I should stay here overnight. Just to make sure you’re-”

“No,” I cross my arms. “There’s no reason for you to stay the night Harry. I don’t need you here.”

“It’s for your peace of mind-”

“It’s for your peace of mind Harry. And frankly, I don’t care about your peace of mind. I don’t want you sleeping over, I’m not comfortable with that.”

“Y/N, c’mon! It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we didn’t sleep in the same bed for years--I’ll be sleeping on the couch! You’re not in your best shape and it’s just for a night, it’ll be like I’m not even here.”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend or something to go home to?” I ask. He shifts his gaze and shakes his head.

“Nope, my bachelor pad just me. I’ll be out of your hair in the morning.”

I dry my hands and watch him, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I knew him well enough to recognise the wide stance, shoulders back, and jut of his chin. He wasn’t backing down.

“I don’t want to hear you, Not even a peep. I’ll make up the couch but this is the one and only time you’re wearing me down, you’re lucky I’m not in the mood to argue-”

“Promise,” he holds his hand up to his chest, a grin on his face knowing he won.

I leave him with a comfortable setup and head up to my own room. There was a spare upstairs but I don’t think I could handle him sleeping next door to me. It was weird how in just one day I’d seen more of him than I had in the last couple years and now he was sleeping in my living room like we were okay. Not like he wasn’t the man who’d broken my trust, and my heart.

As I lay awake in bed, unable to sleep as the day replays in my head, another set of memories infiltrates my mind and keeps me from sleeping. The story of Harry and I, the naive beginning, eventful middle, and heartbreaking end. My mind repeats its history and I don’t fall asleep for hours. When sleep finally comes, my dreams are haunted by the same memories.

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cosmicgoddesswrites · 3 years

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The Nanny - Chapter 2

Single Dad!Kuroo x Nanny!Reader

Summary: Kuroo Tetsuro is about at his wits end; there's only so much a man can take with work piling up, his divorce getting messier by the minute, and his 6-year-old daughter raising hell at home. Hiring a nanny sounds like a band-aid solution, but who knows, maybe this will work out?

Word Count: 1738

Warnings: Female!Reader, Some cursing, mentions of v!olence, implied panic attack

Prev. Masterlist. Next.

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Pulling up to the house the next morning was just as nerve-racking, if not more so, than it was the day before. (Y/n) was excited to meet Emiko, but couldn’t help the anxiety bubbling in the pit of her stomach.

What if Emiko didn’t like her? Kuroo said if she did well then she would get to stay on as her nanny. Did that mean if she did a shit job that he would fire her?

(Y/n) pushed her worries to the back of her mind as she approached the front door, gripping the spare key Kuroo had given her so hard she thought it might bend. With a deep breath she unlocked the front door and made her way inside.

Her footsteps practically echoed in the spacious house. One would think she was there completely alone.

Making her way to the kitchen, (Y/n) set down her messenger bag in one of the island chairs. Should she start cooking? Should she wait for Kuroo to greet her? Would he even greet her? Did she have to wait until she knew Emiko was up?

Her inner monologue was interrupted by a loud crash followed by a shrill scream that could have easily been mistaken for an emergency siren.

Instinct had (Y/n) rushing to the source of the noise and almost bumping into a frantic and half naked, very wet Kuroo.

“O-oh my god-”

“Oh, hi. Uh, I was showering, should we-?” Kuroo interrupted (Y/n), pointing to the door they were both standing in front of. (Y/n) prayed he didn’t notice her staring.

“Yes, yes we should-” she mumbled, moving to let him open the door.

Kuroo swung open the door, rushing to his daughter’s bedside and checking her for injuries. The father sighed in relief when he found none, only for his smile of relief to drop when he saw a very expensive looking night-light had been thrown on the floor.

“You scared me half to death,” he huffed, picking up the night-light, “did you throw this? You know daddy paid a lot for that.”

The little girl’s attention had shifted from her dad to the stranger in the room, her intense, amber eyes almost sizing the woman up. “Who’s that?”

Kuroo frowned at the lack of response from his daughter. “That’s (Y/n), she’s going to be your nanny, okay?” he explained, inspecting the light for any damage.

(Y/n) smiled and opened her mouth to speak only for the 6-year-old to cut her off.

“I don’t like her.”

Ouch.

Kuroo choked on his saliva and quickly turned to face his daughter, “Emiko that isn’t nice, you just met her. Can you give her a chance?”

Emiko stayed dead silent, continuing to stare (Y/n) down.

(Y/n) tried her best to play off the insanely awkward encounter, kneeling down to meet Emiko’s eye-line. “That’s okay, buuut do you like pancakes?”

The girl’s eyes lit up for a moment, she was obviously trying to mask any reaction to the mention of food, but her stomach betrayed her as it rumbled loudly.

“Well I like pancakes too, I make them nice and thick and fluffy with lots of syrup. How about I go make you and your dad some right now?” (Y/n) offered Emiko a bright smile as the little girl glanced over at her father.

“I know that sounds good to me!” Kuroo said, “How about we get dressed for the day while (Y/n) starts cooking?”

Kuroo didn’t even wait for a reply, he just stood straight and began getting Emiko’s clothes ready for the day. (Y/n) gave Emiko one last smile before heading for the kitchen.

(Y/n) could hear arguing coming from Emiko’s room as she cooked breakfast. It was clear the little girl would pull no punches on (Y/n)’s first day, making this a difficult start to what would hopefully be her new, permanent job.

Kuroo eventually entered the kitchen, frustration evident in his features as he carried Emiko to the small dining table. The little girl kicked and struggled in his hold, whining and grunting as she tried getting away. Her school uniform and hair was a mess, it couldn’t have been genes making her jet-black hair stick up like that.

(Y/n) served Emiko her breakfast as soon as the young girl was in her chair, ensuring she wouldn’t try running off to get her father to chase her. Those adorable amber eyes identical to Kuroo’s lit up as she began digging into her breakfast, not even bothering to wait for her dad to sit beside her.

The older man adjusted his tie before sitting at the table and beginning to eat breakfast as well; he seemed very pleased with the comfortable silence that enveloped the three of them.

(Y/n) turned her back to them to start washing dishes. And that’s when things took a turn.

“Can we stop at McDonald’s on the way home from school, daddy?” Emiko asked, her mind already on her next meal despite the near-empty plate of pancakes in front of her.

“You’ll have to ask (Y/n), sweetheart. From now on she’s going to be the one taking you to school and bringing you home.”

Emiko didn’t like her father’s reply. Not one bit.

She practically threw her fork down on the table, a fire in her eyes (Y/n) was all too familiar with. “I don’t want her to take me! I want you to take me!” she shouted, mouth still full of half-chewed pancakes.

“Emiko, the earlier daddy gets to work the earlier he can come home to you.” Kuroo reasoned, only to be met with a glare from his daughter.

“You always say that then pick me up late from school anyway!” she snapped, “I don’t want her!”

Kuroo gave Emiko a stern look. “Emiko. I’m the parent and you’re the child. I’m saying (y/n) is taking you to school. She’s taking you to school.”

(Y/n) internally cringed at that. Maybe she externally cringed too. She could have a talk with him about that communication later.

Emiko kicked her legs under the table, causing it to thump as Kuroo hardened his gaze. “Well if you’re done eating you can go ahead and get to school.” Kuroo stood up and scooped Emiko out of her chair despite her protests, ignoring her as she screamed her head off and thrashed in his arms.

In the midst of her thrashing, her closed fist collided roughly with Kuroo’s nose. In shock, he set Emiko down and cupped his nose in pain, the pain causing his eyes to water. Emiko looked shocked for a moment before continuing her tantrum.

Kuroo wordlessly picked Emiko back up, grabbed her schoolbag, and carried her to (Y/n)’s car. (Y/n) followed behind silently, unlocking the car so he could get Emiko in the back seat. Once she was strapped in, (Y/n) turned Kuroo to face her and cupped his cheek.

“Let me see that, do you need ice?” She asked before he quickly pulled away.

“I’ll be okay… Drive carefully.”

(Y/n) bit her lip before getting into the driver’s seat, wincing at the volume of Emiko’s screams. Despite how upset he was, Kuroo blew a kiss to the crying child in the car before turning to go back in the house.

Emiko sobbed and screeched and wailed the whole way to school, somehow not tiring herself out at all no matter how hard she thrashed in her seat. (Y/n) was almost grateful to pull up to the school parking lot and get the screaming child out of her car.

She opened the backseat of the car, noticing how Emiko flinched away as she was now practically hyperventilating through her tears.

(Y/n) immediately set beside her and cupped her cheeks so Emiko would look at her. “Hey, hey- it’s okay. Just look at me and breathe, okay, pretty girl? It’s okay, breathe.” (Y/n) cooed, gingerly wiping Emiko’s tears.

Emiko continued breathing hard, her tiny chest heaving with each breath she took. “D-Dont yell at meee!” She wailed, “Pleaaase don’t yell at me! Don’t be maaad!”

“Sweetie I’m not mad at you, I’m not going to yell at you,” (Y/n) assured her, brushing strands of messy hair off her tear-stained cheeks. “I’m never ever going to yell at you, okay? Please just be a good girl and breathe with me, okay?”

Emiko nodded quickly, staring up at (Y/n) as she mirrored her breathing. A couple moments later, Emiko was breathing normally, blinking back tears and shaking in her seat.

“Good girl,” (Y/n) gave her a gentle smile as she praised her, continuing to stroke her head. “Can you tell me why you’re upset?”

The little girl sniffled, her bottom lip quivering, “I hit my daddy…” she whimpered.

(Y/n) frowned as she began to try combing down Emiko’s messy hair with her fingers. “You didn’t like hitting your daddy, huh?”

Emiko responded only by shaking her head. “He hates me…”

“That’s not true.” (Y/n) quickly corrected her, tilting her head. “Your daddy loves you soooo much. And I bet more than anything he just wants a great big hug from you to make it okay. How about when he gets home, you apologize and kiss and hug him better?”

Emiko nodded sadly, nervously picking at her fingers.

“We have to get you into school now, okay? I want you to think about what you want for dinner and I’ll take you grocery shopping with me after I pick you up, okay?” (Y/n) smiled down at her. “Anything you want I’ll make, then you and daddy can sit down at dinner and share it.”

(Y/n) felt relief wash over her as Emiko nodded and unbuckled her own seatbelt, moving to get out of the car. “Do you know how to make spaghetti?” She asked quietly.

(Y/n) giggled and helped her out of the car, walking her to the front doors. “That’s my faaavorite thing to cook! I’ll make a list for the grocery store, sound good?”

Emiko nodded, already looking like she had perked up. The two said their goodbyes and (Y/n) left her teacher her phone number before going back to the house. Hopefully Kuroo would be gone and the two could avoid an awkward encounter.

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

Taglist:

@kellyyween @whore-for-anime @lilith412426 @yourstarvic @prinkipissa-aa @syynnaaah @boosyboo9206 @lowkey-falling-apart @chwlogy @chichibia @chirity-chu @faithfulferns @fi-chanwrites

#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou #Kuroo Tetsurou x reader #The Nanny Series #Single Dad!Kuroo

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high-supernatural · 3 years

Text

Memories

Kai Parker x Female Reader/Character

Word Count: 1918

Warnings: typical tvd themes, S.Assault hints, crying, soft kai, a lil boob touching, Stephan drives her off a bridge

Summary: She finds out the real story of what happened to her after a near-death experience. Kai agrees to comfort her in her own way.

(I wrote this with “she/her” instead of “V” because this is the last part I’ll be writing as a series, the rest will be written as one shot’s with she/her pronouns because if I continue to work on the series it’ll become an entire novel. So instead of writing a novel, I’ll just write the big plot points as one shots after this)

Another couple of weeks had passed since their ritual. Almost every day that would pass, they would go out and look for answers for what they saw and would come up empty handed.

One day they finally found something that could lead them to another lead for answers – an ancient necklace that was owned by a witch in her distant bloodline that could allow her to connect with the original owner. The only problem was that the necklace was worn religiously around Elena’s neck as a gift from Stephan.

That wasn’t really a problem for her. She didn’t really like Elena much, and Elena didn’t like her, but it wasn’t hard to get close enough to grab it since they both hung out with the same people.

That’s exactly what she did. She kept it with her for a week, waiting for a specific celestial event to happen for the spell all while dodging calls from Stephan and Elena accusing her of taking it.

She took to the woods by herself on the night before the celestial event to find the perfect spot under the moon to preform it. Just as she was about to make her way off the trail she was struck by a tranquilizing dart in her neck, knocking her out cold.

She woke up in the passenger seat of Stephan’s car, “oh, good, you’re up,” he said shutting his phone off.

Her vision was blurry, but she knew who it was and was annoyed to say the least.

“Have you seen Elena’s necklace?” He asked as if he already knew.

She blinked to focus her vision, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she rubbed her eyes.

Stephan leaned in, “here’s what’s gonna happen… you’re either going to tell me where it is, hand it over, or I’m going to hold you here until you do.”

“You’re really about to do all this for a damn necklace?” she asked, still very annoyed.

They went back and forth for a while about how it’s “Elena’s necklace,” and how crazy Stephan was to host a hostage situation over it before he turned the car on, “ok, you don’t wanna tell me where it is, fine,” he slammed on the gas, “you’ve been a cosmic pain in everyone’s ass since you showed up in Mystic Falls by the way. We’re trying to rid the town of chaos and mischief and here you come…”

Stephan was driving at what seemed to be over 100 miles an hour with a crazy look in his eye, “so nobody wants to tell me where it is, I’ll drive you off the bridge and find it myself,” he spat.

“You’re bluffing. You wouldn’t drive someone off a bridge over a damn necklace, Stephan, plus if I do have it, you’d be losing your chance to get it back if you do,” she said unphased by his threat.

“That’s only if nobody wants to tell me. It’s really no sweat off my back if you live or die but… hey maybe Kai knows where it is,” he said as if he had just thought of the most iconic solution and dialed Kai’s phone.

As they approached the bridge, she began to take his threat more seriously. All she heard was muffled noises as adrenaline of being driven off a bridge kicked in.

She yelled panicked knowing Kai was on the phone, “Kai just tell him where the stupid necklace is he’s gonna drive me off the bridge.”

“Too late,” Stephan muttered with a smirk as the car flew into the water after he jumped out.

She tried to roll her window down before the car hit the water and was fully submerged, but Stephan had the window locks on, so she had to crawl over to the driver’s side to roll it down, throwing her against the wind shield and knocking her unconscious again as she got the window halfway down.

Just like the time she held her breath and an unknown entity came over her when she rescued Enzo, the same thing happened here. While she was unconscious the car fully submerged into the water for minutes until the entity awoke her and struggled to break the window open through the slowness of the water.

She remembered none of this. She awoke on the rocks only remembering being driven off the bridge and a replay of the things that had happened to her that Kai made her forget.

She sat there coughing up water and trying to catch her breath as the replays engrained themselves deeper. She knew she couldn’t deal with it right now though, she needed to get back to the motel for the necklace, so she started walking her way back to the road.

She walked expressionless until Kai drove up beside her and got out,

“What happened,” he asked throwing his hands up as he walked towards her.

“I don’t know, Stephan threw a fit about the necklace and thought it was reasonable to drive me and his car off the bridge,” she said silent and expressionless, darting her eyes not to look into Kai’s.

Kai looked at her, realizing that for the first time in probably forever, he was pissed about something because it had happened to somebody he cares about, but he still didn’t know what to say other than, “well, are you okay,” silently kicking himself for asking after he realized how big what happened was compared to the question he asked.

“Yeah, I just wanna get back,” she mumbled and went to open the door, but Kai grabbed it quicker.

She was silent the whole way back, something that was unusual for her normally.

They drove into the parking lot of their motel and Kai stopped her before she could open the door by grabbing her arm, “hey, are you good,” he asked, “you didn’t say anything the entire way back and you love to talk.”

She was still expressionless, “I’m good, I just need a minute,” her voice was almost robotic.

“Talk to me…” Kai tried to speak but was cut off.

“I’m about to freak out, and it’s not gonna be cute,” she spoke with a little more seriousness to her robotic tone, “so just give me a minute,” she began to walk towards their room.

He had never seen her like this before. They would usually make jokes the whole night whenever something that would typically be traumatic happened, but this time she seemed as though she was here physically but elsewhere mentally.

She made a beeline to the bathroom before Kai called out “let me know if I can do any—” she shut the door, “—thing.”

She stood at the sink and placed her hands on it to steady her balance as things began to look blurry and lightheaded. She tried rubbing her eyes to make the feeling go away but it kept getting stronger as her chest felt heavier, head felt heavier, and memories of that night months before screamed at her.

Kai leaned on the doorframe to hear what was going on but couldn’t hear anything.

She stood, taking deep breaths before it got increasingly harder to breath and gave into the onset hyperventilation and inevitable tears.

Kai knocked but she didn’t answer so he opened the door to find her with her hands in her hair, breathing fast, with a concerned expression.

She didn’t even hear him walk in at first until she felt a presence behind her as he went to touch her arm. She sat on her knees slowly before Kai could touch her, “Kai I can’t breathe,” he sat on his knees in front of her and put his hand on her head, unsure of what to say.

Grabbing his wrist to pull his hand into her lap, gripping it tightly she put her other hand on her chest and coughed, “I can’t breathe…. Why can’t I breathe…” she let the tears fall before placing her arms over her head and leaned forward until she was leaning against her elbows on the floor so she could catch her breath without having Kai see her cry.

Kai gripped her shoulders and pushed her up to look at him. She covered her mouth with one hand and squeezed her eyes tight, trying to return back to the position he moved her from before he stopped her by keeping his hands on her shoulders, “tell me what happened,” he spoke softly, gently removing the hand she had over her mouth.

“I remembered everything—” she sobbed harder and put her hand back over her mouth, leaning into Kai, “tell me it didn’t really happen,” she sobbed.

Kai knew what she was talking about now and pulled her to lean against the wall with her head on his chest as she sobbed more.

“Tell me I’m making stuff up, or that Stephan has sick humor, tell me someth—” she couldn’t finish her sentence before burying her face back into Kai.

He stared at the wall in front of him as if he could feel what she was feeling, “I can’t,” he whispered, causing her sobs to get louder,

“That couldn’t have happened… I wouldn’t have let that happen… it couldn’t have been me, maybe I just witnessed—”

He wrapped his arms tightly around her as she hid her face in her hands on his chest, “it did, V… I’m sorry, I wish I could tell you different… I’m sorry…” he had a look of remorse as she moved her hand to her scalp as if to cover her ears from what he was saying and placed his hand in her hair with her.

“I gave you different memories, I didn’t want you to remember but something must have triggered it earlier…” he spoke fast and buried his forehead onto the top of her head when she kept sobbing harder, “I should’ve been there…”

“What do you need me to do? Tell me and I’ll do it, anything… let me make it better,” he rubbed his hand on her back to comfort her, but she was too lost in her mind to notice, “you can’t make it better,” she cried.

He sat with her and let her cry until she couldn’t anymore before taking her to their bed.

She pulled his arm as she laid down or else, he wouldn’t have know if he should lay beside her or not. This whole situation was completely new to him, and he only wanted to make it better but had no idea how.

She laid on her side and pulled his arm around her for comfort.

Kai buried his face in her hair by her ear, “what can I do?” he asked again.

“Make me feel something else…” she teared up again.

“What do you mean?” he whispered and rubbed his hand on her upper arm.

“All I can feel is their hands on me and I cant get rid of it,” she choked up, “so maybe if I feel yours instead—” she placed her hand over her face to avoid crying again.

“shh… it’s okay,” Kai whispered surprisingly sweet and kissed her hair, “where do you want ‘em?”

She lifted herself up to place an arm under her neck, laying her head in the crease of his arm and slid the other to her chest.

She fell asleep as Kai gently rubbed from her chest to her stomach repeatedly, occasionally kissing her hair in between.

#kai parker #kai parker x reader #kai parker x you #kai parker imagine #kai parker fluff #kai parker series #kai parker smut #malachai parker #tvd #tvd au #tvd fanfiction #tvd series

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ur-not-reddie · 4 years

Text

I Can’t See Without the Lights

a/n: ahhh!! it’s late, but it’s finally here! the soft streddie i promised you all :’) this is my first time writing streddie so i’m a lil nervous and i’m sorry if it’s not the best. regardless, i hope you enjoy <3

pairing: streddie

warnings: feels galore

word count: 1.7k

for context: this takes place summer of their sophomore year, in college, when they go back to derry to visit family

Stan exhales heavily as he steps out of his car, bolting down the street to Richie’s house. Stan goes around the back of the house, climbing over the gate as silently as he can, just in case Richie’s parents are home. He sees that every room in the house is dark except Richie’s where he can see the half broken, dim lamp illuminating his room.

Stan then sneaks through the back door, Richie always leaving it unlocked for when he and Eddie sneak over. He heads upstairs, seeing Richie’s parents room is empty and dark. He opens Richie’s door, nearly scaring him half to death.

“Jesus, Stan, w-”

“We have to go!” Stan cuts Richie off in a panic.

“What? Why?” Richie asks, sitting upright in his chair that's placed at his desk. “You’re freaking me out, My Man.”

“Something happened to Eddie!” Stan says in distress, starting to pace around the room as Richie jumps to his feet.

“What?” Richie asks again, hoping he misunderstood what Stan said as trepidation floods his veins. “What do you mean something happened to Eddie?!”

“I don’t know!” Stan yells, feeding off of Richie’s panic. “He texted me and it doesn’t make any sense which makes me feel like something’s wrong!” tears start to pool in Stan’s eyes. “Come on! We have to go!”

Richie grabs the first shoes he sees, not the same pair, but he doesn’t care. They dart out the front door and into Richie’s car. They speed to Eddie’s house, Richie grateful they live in a small town otherwise they’d most definitely be pulled over. They make it there, storming inside as they call out for Eddie. Richie begins searching downstairs, as Stan goes up. He first looks in Eddie’s room when he hears faint crying.

“Eddie?” Stan asks, stepping out of the room when he notices that the bathroom door is closed. Stan walks up to the door, pressing his ear against the cool wood as he hears more muffled crying. “Eddie?” Stan asks again, knocking on the door, trying the knob, but it’s locked. That’s when Stan hears a crash, followed by a loud bang, crying and hyperventilating. “Oh, shit… Richie!” Stan yells. “He’s up here!” Richie stumbles up the stairs and meets Stan at the bathroom door.

“He’s in there?” Richie asks, panting as he tries to catch his breath.

“Yes!” Stan tries to twist the locked door handle again. “There was a loud noise and now it sounds like he can’t breathe!” Stan starts to pace again.

“Stan, it’s okay. He’ll be okay.” Richie tries his best to keep his composure as he attempts to calm Stan down.

“Oh god!” Stan panics more. “Richie, what are we going to do?!”

“Stanley!” Richie raises his voice, grabbing Stan’s face gently. “You. Need. To. Calm. Down. I can’t have both of you freaking out. So, please, relax, and we need to help Eddie.” Stan nods, taking a deep breath as he tries his best to have a clear and rational mind. “Go around the side of the house and climb through the bathroom window, it’s never locked, remember? Unlock the door and I’ll go grab Eddie’s inhaler.”

Stan scurries back down the stairs, out the back door and to the bathroom window. He slides it open, climbs inside and sees Eddie clinging to the edge of the bathtub. He instantly notices Eddie’s bloody nose, bruised cheek, his shirt nearly ripped in half and pills littered all over.

“Oh, Eddie.” Stan whimpers at the sight, running to Eddie’s side and dropping to his knees as he embraces his fragile frame. “What happened?” Stan asks gently, wiping Eddie’s tears away when he hears Richie knocking on the door.

“Stan? Are you in there? Let me in.” Richie knocks more. Stan crawls over quickly, opens the door before going back to Eddie, pulling him in his lap. “Hey, Eds.” Richie walks in, kneels down and holds out Eddie’s inhaler for him. “What’s going on?” Richie also notices the state of Eddie and he’s doing everything he can to keep himself collected. He wants to scream, punch someone or something, hold Eddie and never let him go.

“Eddie,” Stan says, shifting Eddie so he’s better placed in his lap. “Come on,” he helps Eddie use his inhaler and gain control of his breathing.

“Eddie, what happened?” Richie asks again, moving some hair out of Eddie’s view. Eddie opens his mouth only for him to burst into a whole other fit of sobs, throwing himself into Richie’s arms. Stan sighs, feeling his heart sink into his stomach as he rubs Eddie’s back. “Eddie, baby, you need to use your words. We can’t help you if you don’t use your words.”

Stan starts to sob, hugging the back of Eddie before he stands up, walking over to the cabinet and pulling out the first-aid kit that’s always stocked full. He grabs it then grabs a clean cloth, wetting it with warm water and heads back over to the other two. Richie turns Eddie around in his lap so he’s facing Stan as Stan starts to wipe the blood from Eddie’s nose and face.

“Are you going to tell us what happened, Eds?” Richie asks again, his voice soft like snow as he rubs Eddie’s leg gently.

“I don’t want to tell you,” Eddie finally says, sniffing as Stan keeps cleaning his nose.

“Eddie,” Stan sighs, stroking Eddie’s cheek with his thumb and kissing his lips gently. “You know you can tell us anything.”

“I know, but, it’s just-” Eddie is cut off by his own cries once again. Stan closes his eyes, resting his forehead against Eddie’s as he cries more with him - it hurts him to see Eddie cry. Richie pulls both of his boys close to him.

“Stan,” Richie says, grabbing Stan’s chin gently and tilting his head up, meeting each other’s gaze. “Why don’t you go get us some water and I’ll try to calm Eddie down more.” Stan nods, hugging Eddie before he exits the bathroom. “Eddie,” Richie shifts Eddie so that he’s able to look at him. “You need to tell me what happened.” Richie is delicate with his tone.

“No. I don’t want to tell you.” Eddie closes his eyes as more tears fall.

“But you need to, baby.” Richie gives a weak smile.

“No, Richie, I can’t!” Eddie’s voice quivers as he tries not to break down again. “It’s too embarrassing…” he nearly whispers, feeling beyond ashamed as he leans in and rests his head on Richie’s chest. “And I think you’d be fucking pissed…”

“Yes, Eddie, I am going to be fucking pissed!” Richie raises his voice slightly, Eddie starting to cave in on himself. “How could I not bed, Eds?” Richie’s voice is calm and light again, rubbing Eddie’s back. “Someone hurt you and knowing that I, or Stan, couldn’t be there to help makes me a bit frustrated.”

“No one did this, I fell.” Eddie tries to lie as he wipes his eyes.

“Don’t you dare give me that, Eds. I know damn well you didn’t fall.” Eddie stays silent knowing if he opens his mouth again, it’ll be unbelievable lies. “Can you look at me, please?” Eddie takes a slow, deep breath before finally meeting Richie’s eyes. “There are those pretty eyes I love to see.” Eddie blushes, batting his lashes as Richie kisses his lips tenderly.

Stan then enters the bathroom again, placing three water bottles on the floor as he sits back down. Eddie lets go of Richie and clings back to Stan, sighing softly as he fumbles with the material on Stan’s shirt.

“He tried to tell me he fell,” Richie informs Stan. Stan hums, trying to process as he starts rubbing Eddie’s back again.

“I don’t want to tell you guys…” Eddie’s words are slightly muffled due to his face buried in Stan’s chest. “It’s embarrassing and I’m just so… weak.” Eddie’s voice strains on the last word.

“Don’t say that, Eds.” Richie says, running his fingers through Eddie’s hair.

“You’re not weak at all, my sweet boy.” Stan half whispers, leaning his head on top of Eddie’s. “You’re still here and you’re brave as hell for doing so.”

“Stanley’s right,” Richie agrees. “And you’re brave as hell for being here too.” Richie smiles, grabbing Stan’s hand, rubbing his thumb across Stan’s scars in a loving manner. Stan blushes at Richie’s words, leaning in and kissing Richie.

The three sit in comfortable silence for over an hour. Stan and Richie stopped their questioning, letting Eddie think about how he wants to explain what happened to him. Eddie goes back and forth between the other two’s laps, finding comfort and contentment in both of them. Eddie takes a slow, deep breath, stretching and laying over both Richie and Stan. Eddie tries to think more, but exhaustion overrides him and he falls asleep.

“What do you think happened?” Stan asks in a whisper, breaking the silence.

“I have no idea,” Richie whispers back, running his fingers softly through Eddie’s hair. “We’ll find out tomorrow, he’s exhausted right now.” Stan nods, agreeing with Richie as a yawn escapes his mouth, causing Richie to chuckle. “Seems like my other baby is exhausted too,” Stan nods again, smiling weakly as he leans into Richie. “Okay, we’re not gonna sleep on the bathroom floor.” Richie lets out an air laugh as he sits Stan up.

Stan lets out another yawn, stretching before standing up, pulling Eddie into his arms. Richie gets to his feet as well, turning off the light as they walk out of the bathroom and into Eddie’s room. Stan lays Eddie in the middle of the bed as him and Richie lay on either side of him.

“I’m gonna fuck up whoever did that to him,” Richie states angrily.

“Richie, is that necessary?” Stan grabs Richie’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Yes!” Richie accidentally raises his voice, Stan shushing him. “If it were you, I’d do the same as well.” Stan smiles, leaning in and kisses Richie before pulling back.

“You’re so brave,” Stan hums, laying his head down on the pillow, arm draped over Eddie as he quickly falls asleep.

“Only for you,” Richie says, talking to both Stan and Eddie, kissing them both on the cheek before he joins them in sleep.

part two coming soon ;)

#streddie #reddie #steddie #stozier #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stanley uris #stan uris #the losers club #losers club #it 2019 au #streddie fic #streddie fanfic

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ninnodesu · 4 years

Text

“Can I See You?” ch 2 || Modern!Thomas

Well. People apprently wanted more of modern!Thomas, so naturally, my brain conjured up a continuation. GUESS WE HAVE TWO LONG STORIES NOW, FRIENDOS

I AM GOING TO TAG EVERY CHAPTER OF THIS FIC AS CICU IN CASE YOU WANT TO BLOCK OR FOLLOW!

TWs: - Mentions of rape - Broken bone - Mentions of cannibalism - Mentions of murder - Murder

He could see in your eyes, how the tears welled up and streamed down your face that you’d recognize him and he left. He couldn’t look at you at this point, couldn’t look at you cry because of him. He heard you cry behind him as he turned to go into his basement bedroom, his heart stung in his chest as he heard you beg and scream in fear. Closing the bedroom door, he proceeds to lean up against it, back pressed hard to it, eyes shut closed. Some kind of desperate way to make your panicked begging go away.

I can't, I can't, I can't, his inner voice chant like a mantra. His anxiety gets the better of him and he starts pacing, the wood under his feet already marked with a worn-out pattern left by his heavy boots after years and years of anxious pacing. A fierce battle erupts in his mind.

- I can't kill her - You have to, and you know it - No, I won't - Come up with one good reason to fistfight the old man about this - He would die and I wouldn't have to do this fucking thing anymore - And what? You'll live happily ever after with this woman? - I… - She would never accept the truth

Returning to his original place with his back to the door, he slowly sinks down to sit on the floor, one leg sprawled in front of him, the other resting under it. He's lost, he doesn’t know what to do. If he lets you go, you'll go straight to the police. If he kills you, he'll never hear from you again, he'll never see your face again, a sudden wave of intense nausea hits him at the thought of keeping the skin of your face to make a new mask. No, no he can't do that.

This is the first time since he had to butcher his first human that he feels genuinely lost.

He's mad at his uncle for wasting the low amount of money they do have on ugly hookers and booze, having Thomas resort to this way of living. He never truly did want this. The first time Charlie, or Hoyt as he wants to be called now - although Thomas never really did care about his apparent name change and still called him by Charlie to piss on his ego - talked to him about this, he threw up minutes after being left alone.

He still remembers the first time he got forced into butchering a person, just like it was yesterday, even though it’s nearly four years ago.

That day, he was on his way home from work, ending the day with bashing his old boss’s head in with a sledgehammer. The old man had disrespected his family, something Thomas wouldn’t stand for. Knowing that the security cameras were already turned off, he swung the hammer out of anger. He was mad that they were closing the slaughterhouse and he was hurt by the words that had been spoken. No one disrespects his family and gets away with it. Killing his boss didn’t wake any regrets. He believed the old man deserved it. The afternoon sun was still blazing down at his already sweaty form, propping his headphones on his head, he turned the music on full blast and lumbered home with no care in the world.

His right hand carried a memento of his old work, the slaughterhouse’s chainsaw.

As he had come out from a few trees up on the gravel road, a police car was parked by the side of it, the harsh blue and red light blinking to get his attention. Figuring he was caught, he took the headphones off, letting them rest around his neck and stopped in the middle of the road. His hair blew in front of his face as he took heaving breaths, waiting for the piercing pain of a bullet.

Bang! Thud.

What greeted him instead of searing pain, was Charlie standing behind him, brandishing a shotgun and looking down at a police officer with the head blown off. Everything after that is a blur. Vague memories of Charlie talking to him about the plan, the body was laid out on an old table in the basement. He’d never seen this side of his uncle before, so he tuned out. Words like “ do it”, “no money left”, “can’t afford”, “ butcher him ”, “don’t tell mama” and the worst sentence he’d heard in his life; “ you have to do this, Tommy. For the family. We need meat to survive, boy.” echoed in his mind.

A loud bang coming from outside woke him from his memories. When he just seconds later heard your voice in a shrill pitch, he almost jumped off the floor and hurried out only to see you laying on the floor with half the table over you, the other half leaning against the metallic sink.

Jesus christ…

Being left alone again, your thoughts start racing and your heart along with it.

Where did he go? Why is he here? Does he live here? Is he going to kill you? Rape you? Keep you as a hostage? Was that his family? What? Why? Where?

It’s quiet, but you hear a faint shuffling coming from somewhere close to you. All you can do is lay there and look up at the ceiling, and to your left or right.

On your left you see what looks like a workbench, an apron rests on a hook next to it. It looks well used, stained with a dark and muddy hue of red. There's a sink and dirty towels hanging off the edge of said sink. The sight to your right, however, makes your stomach flip and turn on itself. There’s cleavers, knives, hooks. Huge bins stained with the same red hue as the apron. Putting all the puzzle pieces together, your breathing increases, teetering on the edge of hyperventilating. Thomas, your Thomas. The Thomas you’ve gotten to know, the one you’ve missed for these two weeks, the one who made you all giggly when he sent you the first full-face selfie of himself… a murderer.

As the adrenaline starts shooting through your body, you try wiggling a bit to see how bolted down you are. Your fastenings are tight and they burn as you try pulling your hands out. The metal just digs into your skin resulting in nasty burns.

Fuck…

That’s when an idea - or rather a small glimpse of hope - blooms in your head. Hopefully, the table is not bolted down. It’s a stupid idea, and you know that if Thomas doesn’t kill you, the table most likely will. But rather the table, than the man you’ve slowly started to fall in love with during the months you’ve talked. Getting killed by Thomas’ hands would haunt you more in the afterlife than anything else.

Gathering all the remaining strength, you throw the entirety of your body not bolted down to the side, doing your best to ignore the burning in your wrists and ankles. The first attempt yielded nothing major, the table moved, yes, but not to the extent you wanted. So you do it again, this time, the table goes down, and you with it. You feel the bone in your leg crack before you feel the brutal pain that explodes through it.

Your scream is high to the point where you feel your vocal cords strain and your voice slowly becoming lower, raspier. The pain is enormous, the throbbing pain in your leg thrumming together with your rapid heart. But - thankfully - your scream summons movement, footsteps, and voices. The most prominent footsteps, heavy ones, belong to Thomas as he’s the first one to your side. Even if you can’t see him, you see his clunky boots and grayish jeans, at least you hope that’s Thomas and no one else. All you do is sob onto the floor, your tears pooling under your chin at the pain radiating from your leg… and the burns around your wrists. It takes a full minute before you see big fingers curling around the edge of the table, a grunt coming from above you before your vision starts flying. He was lifting the table up. A loud, hoarse cry escapes your dry throat as the table thuds back into place, jolting your broken leg.

You're about to scream again when your brain catches up to the cleavers and knives hanging to your right but quickly after the first raspy pitch leaves your throat, a hand clamps over your mouth. The rasping sound is muffled under the big hand and you can feel it moisten due to your breath, but all he does is put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion and plead with his eyes for you to stay quiet. Which you don’t, you rasp out a hoarse scream against his palm and keeps shooting daggers at him. My god, are you pissed right now.

Who the fuck are you, and what have done to the Thomas I know, you fucking animal!

You don’t quiet down until you hear that sliding door slide open again and an angry voice rings out. "Thomas! What the fuck is that racket?!"

Thomas jerks his head up as he hears Charlie's voice. He's not sure what to do, his uncle’s footsteps thud down the stairs and soon enough, Thomas sees him in full and exchanges eye contact. "This bitch is still alive? Why haven't you taken care of'er yet, ya idiot?".

Shit uh…

He glances down at your dagger filled eyes while trying to figure how to keep you quiet and talk to his uncle at the same time, needing both hands to do so. He can't sign to Charlie if his hand is clamped over your mouth. Letting out an annoyed grunt, he grabs the nearest towel and shoves it into your mouth as quickly and deep down he can without choking you, making sure you can’t spit it back out. Seeing you so shocked, and angry and… some other kind of emotion he couldn’t place, he got the urge to show you some kind of affection. Resulting in him patting your cheek, his huge hand basically engulfing half your face before walking over to the stairs.

"Well?", Charlie spits out his venomous words. Thomas' hands fidget a bit, nervousness taking a hold of him.

'I know her' The same signs that he kept on repeating earlier, annoyance building inside him knowing that his asshole of an uncle refuses to learn more. Making it almost impossible to have a normal conversation with him. "Listen, Tommy, I. Don’t. Care.", the looks between the men are like venom. "You were 'sposed to get to work on'er before mama gets home. You know damn well how much she hates when the cattle scream." Thomas really can’t help the smirk hiding beneath his mask when he hears that. He glances up the stairs before checking the time on his wristwatch before shrugging, pointing to it, and slowly signing two words he knows Charlie can decipher.

'Fifteen minutes'

That's when Charlie grabs the neck of Thomas' shirt and yanks him forward, the only reason he's able to is that he manages to catch him off guard. His breath reeks of alcohol. A clear cut sign that he’s drunk. "Listen here, you bastard. I've had enough of your defiance today. If you ", he stabs a finger in Thomas' chest at the last word, "don't take care of that girl, I will . And you know damn well I ain't going easy on'er." Charlie releases Thomas with a shove, making him stumble backward slightly. The final words from Charlie’s mouth before leaving the basement stings in Thomas’ heart. "I don't want to see your ugly ass upstairs until she's done for."

Thomas watches him leave and turn towards you, who’s still crying silently on the table.

His heart stings more and more the closer he shuffles to you. Sure, he had had nights where he dreamt that he would meet you. But not like this. Never like this, never here. He did not want to see you on his butcher's block. At the same time, he moves to remove the towel he makes the same shushing motion towards you, with the same pleading eyes as earlier. This time, she nods. And Thomas lets out a sigh of relief. As he removes it, you’re panting, breathing sounding almost more like wheezing squeaks. He goes to rinse the towel under some lukewarm water to pat clean the bloody gash over the eyebrow that got hit to knock you out before getting here. All the time, he feels a burning gaze on him, from eyes that are seemingly watching his every move.

You wince when the damped towel touches your eyebrow, a wound you didn't know you had greeted you with a sting, a small hiss leaving you. Your eyes are glued to the giant man, making sure you see his hands at all times. You want to speak, but your throat is dry and hoarse, figuring out that your earlier screaming has annoyed your vocal cords to a great extent. So all you do is watch him. He, on the other hand, is doing his best to avoid making eye contact with you. And it pisses you off, but at the same time, it relaxes you and makes your heart hurt.

Why the fuck are you avoiding me?!

The thought makes your eyebrows furrow. He’s seen you naked, yet can’t fucking look you in the eyes? You try thrashing a bit with your shoulders to try and get his eyes to yours, but to no avail. His tender way to clean your wound surprises you. This huge killer, this murderer, and straight-up deranged man are making sure not to hurt you, and you can't help but breathe out a laugh.

That's when he - apparently - seems happy with his cleaning and turns his back to you, he turns the water on and it sounds like he's rinsing something. Shutting the water off he moves out of your line of sight. A slight panic arises in your chest at the thought that he might have gone off to fetch whatever tool he seems fit to end your life. You hear a rummaging sound close by, and then he's back above you, looking down at you. This time, you feel a large hand on your head as he slowly and carefully tilts your head back, your eyes are met with harsh light and you shut them. That overwhelming want and need for him to look into your own eyes die down. Now, you don't want to look at him when he slits your throat.

But he doesn't.

You hear what sounds like a paper wrapping open. Two fingers press on either side of the gash over your eyebrow, a small whimper escapes you at the pinching pain, and then something sticky is attached to you. A band-aid. He had put a bandaid on the cut of your eyebrow. It isn't until you feel his hand leave your head that you open your eyes. And at that moment, your eyes are met with his blue ones. The way he's looking at you makes a tiny bit of your anger and hurt, and fear goes away. His blue eyes are filled to the brim with hurt, and sadness, and confusion. It almost looks like he’s about to burst into tears. He looks broken down.

Thomas fiddles a bit with the paper wrapper of the bandaid after making sure it's secured on your eyebrow and proceeds to look down into your beautiful eyes, your eye color popping in the harsh light. Something in them reflects his own emotions. He doesn’t want this, he punishes himself for not responding to your text messages the past weeks, or that he didn’t reach out to you. What he’s looking at is clear cut torture for him. He wants to cry.

I'm so sorry…

He hears the familiar clacking of his mother's shoes above the both of you, a sigh of relief escapes him. Patting the pockets of his jeans, he makes sure he has his phone and the keys to the basement before he heads over to the stairs. But he stops right before ascending them and looks over to you.

He pulls his phone up, unlocks it swiftly, and goes to his text-to-speech app, making sure the volume is put on high before typing out two words and hitting the speech button. A male voice rings out through the basement.

"I'm sorry"

#thomas hewitt #thomas leatherface hewitt #modern!thomas #modern au #thomas hewitt fanfiction #CICU #can i see you

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whosnickydude · 3 years

Text

A soft dusk

okay so a while ago a posted this Kandreil drabble on ao3 but never really kept writing a 2nd part? but now that’s summer i have more time on my hands and i started writing again, so i guess i’m posting the 1st part here as well?? idk enjoy

CW: panic attack, Kevin has some really sad and harmful thoughts. please take care of yourselves lovies!

Kevin was spiraling. He felt as if his chest was about to explode from the pressure of not getting air through, and he couldn’t get a hold of his feelings.

Six months had passed since Riko’s death. Since the press lurking around every corner, demanding answers, fighting for a statement. None of them were sensible about it. Kevin practically couldn’t go anywhere alone the first month, or he would probably end up being stalked. One time it actually got close to physical assault.

All the while, he was mourning Riko. And he was the only one, it seemed. He felt immensely guilty, for an overbearing amount of reasons. He felt guilty for letting his brother become the sadistic monster he turned into. He felt guilty for not being able to change him. He felt guilty for leaving him. But most of all, he felt guilty for mourning him. It wasn’t fair, not with all that he did to Kevin. The sleepless nights, the feeling of always being a prey, always the second, always with a leash around his neck. He broke his hand because he was having a fucking tantrum, for God’s sake. It was not fair that Kevin still had to feel like shit because of him dying.

He started drinking, after that. More than he did before. It was the only way he knew to numb the pain. The other foxes let him. None of them understood why he felt so sad about his abuser’s death, so none of them knew how to —or wanted to— comfort him. They would throw him a pitying glance and try to do so, but after some times he shoved them off, they started to leave him to himself. So they let him drink. It wasn’t as if they ignored him completely. When everyone went to Eden’s Matt, or Dan, or Allison asked him to go dancing with them. Sometimes he got so drunk that he actually did. Most of the time, though, he stayed on the table while everyone gradually went to the dance floor. They never left him completely alone. Almost every time, Neil and Andrew stayed on the other side of the table, speaking in languages he didn’t know. Probably flirting shamelessly right on his face. However, the only one who stopped him from getting alcohol down his throat was Andrew, and only when he saw that another one would end up with Kevin passing out.

Five months had passed since Thea left him by now. And through text, at that. Apparently, he was making a fool of himself in public every day and it was bad for both of their careers. She didn’t want anything to do with him nor with Edgar Allen. The hypocrite. Kevin was the only one that was always mindful of his surroundings. The only one that acted perfect, that pushed every feeling inside so as to not attract too much undesired attention from the public. But she had it as she wanted it, and Kevin put no resistance against it. They didn’t even see each other and barely even texted or spoke on the phone.

The drinking got worse. The mighty Queen of Exy had fallen, but the only ones who saw it happening were the Foxes. And people who knew nothing about Exy in the darkness of a nightclub in full swing.

Four months had passed since on a Wednesday at 6 A.M., in the middle of his morning run, Neil had found Kevin, alone, near to unconsciousness in the middle of the road to Fox Tower. He had his body on the street and his head on the sidewalk. His face was pressed to the pavement as he sobbed, a half-empty bottle of vodka in his right hand.

Four months had passed since the last time he drank alcohol: he was four months sober now.

It had taken fights, screams, and comforting talks with Abby, but Kevin finally accepted to go to A.A. Neither Wymack nor Andrew would let him alone enough time for him to get near any type of alcoholic beverage. It took a while, but he got to the point that he spent a whole day not thinking about it.

Right now, he would kill for a drink. His mind seemed to have caught up on everything that had happened in the past few months. It was the beginning of term, so everyone wasn’t as free anymore to look out for him. Andrew and Neil had gone out a while ago, probably to the roof, since it was almost dawn. Kevin was left alone for more time than he could manage. The prospect of having to deal with still mourning the death of his worst nightmare, his own mental health, his addiction, and the school year, was simply too much. It was looming over him. He felt as if he was dying.

Maybe it was because he found himself with so few distractions that he started overthinking. Maybe he just opened the wrong Pandora’s box from the rotten depths of his mind. Either way, he was panicking. The rush of adrenaline and utter fear he felt —he remembered— from his time in the Nest was a live wire around his throat. How could he let all those things happen to him? Riko’s abuse, Tetsuji’s beating, the terror, the exposure. Being so vulnerable and ignored while also being right in the spotlight. “Always a commodity, never a human being...”

And then, what? He went running to his father, who didn’t even know he was his father. And he didn’t say anything about it until he was forced to do so. He was a coward. He was a coward, a fucking coward.

He couldn’t breathe. His head felt heavy, his shoulders felt heavy, his whole body felt heavy. Living felt heavy. Maybe he could just lay down where he was sitting on the couch and let himself go. But he couldn’t bring himself to move. His vision started blurring and everything around him was out of focus. Suddenly, there was a warm pressure on the back of his neck, and then another on his right cheek. The world started solidifying back, spinning around him, and he was gasping for air. He was letting out ragged, desperate gasps, his neglected lungs screaming for oxygen.

A face started coming to focus in front of him, but as soon as it materialized it blurred again. Tears were running down his face and he curled his arms around him. The pressure on the back of his neck —a hand, he realized— tightened, and the one on his cheek went up to pull at his hair.

“Kevin, look at me,” he heard someone say. The voice sounded familiar. “Kevin, I need you to breathe.”

The hand behind him stretched up and tangled between his hair as well, pushing his head slightly down.

“Come down, Kevin. You’re safe.”

The voices felt oddly comforting, and his hands flew up to grasp the other two. He was still crying and gasping, but it wasn’t as desperate. Maybe he wouldn’t die today.

At some point during the episode he had shut his eyes tightly, and now he tried to blink slowly, with narrowed eyes. The first thing that he saw was red hair, scarred skin, and blue eyes. Neil was in front of him, looking worried in his own way. His brow was furrowed, and he was chewing on his lip, but his expression didn’t seem quite compassionate.

“Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth, Kevin,” he said. He showed the motion, exaggerating his breaths for Kevin to copy. And Kevin could only look him in the eyes and comply. Some time passed —maybe minutes, maybe hours— and the panic ebbed. The tears wouldn’t stop falling and his breath was shaky, but he wasn’t hyperventilating anymore.

He was still holding both hands, and he felt the one at the back of his head slip away from his grasp. He looked back and saw Andrew staring at him, sitting on the arm of the couch. Neil was sitting on the coffee table in front of it.

“I’m... I’m sorry, I just...” he started, but couldn’t finish.

Andrew didn’t look away from him. His face didn’t demonstrate any emotion, but he still wasn’t looking away. “What happened, Kevin?”

“I...” He sighed. “I started overthinking, and I really wanted a drink, and I... I guess it just went down from there.”

His voice was small and he hated it. He felt stupid, he couldn’t be left alone with his thoughts for two fucking seconds because he started falling to pieces.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Well, don’t be,” Neil said. “It’s only natural for these things to happen.”

Kevin wasn’t really sure what he meant by that, but he didn’t have much time to think about it because then Neil was standing up and going to the kitchen. Kevin looked back towards Andrew and saw him lighting up a cigarette and walking to the desk next to the window.

“Go change your clothes, Kevin,” he said, looking out towards the campus. “You’ll be itchy until you do, and you probably drenched all that in sweat anyway.”

He was probably right, Kevin thought, but still glared in his direction. Only because it was in his nature and he felt better already; Andrew wasn’t looking at him. Though he probably knew Kevin would glare at him. Giving no response to the blonde, he stood up and went to the bedroom to change into his pajamas. Andrew was right: the sweatpants felt like heaven on his skin. He closed his eyes and brought his hands up to rub them. He was feeling sleepy all of a sudden. The panic attack had drained all the energy from him, and his muscles hurt everywhere.

He went back out to the living room, yawning, and found Neil sprawled on one end of the couch with his laptop on his lap and a cup of coffee on hand. Andrew had one too where he was still sitting on the desk, and there was another one on the coffee table.

“Is that for me?” Kevin asked, sitting down on the other end of the couch. Neil looked up at him from his laptop and raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“No, Day, I felt like having two cups of coffee,” he said. They fixed their eyes on each other until Kevin decided to take the cup. Neil seemed satisfied with that and looked back to where he was browsing something. A few seconds later he clicked on something with a flourish and put his laptop on the coffee table. It was a Trojan’s game they had already seen many times.

Kevin stared at Neil, but the boy just kept watching the beginning of the game. He saw Andrew moving to stub his finished cigarette on the window sill and light up another one. The last rays of sunshine and the street lights drew shadows all over his face. He breathed out the smoke and Kevin saw it disappearing in the wind. He looked back to the game playing on the laptop and brought his knees to his chest. He sipped on his coffee, and it was sugary sweet. But he could allow himself that, at least for today.

#aftg #kandreil #kandriel #andreil #kevneil #kandrew #wip #i just love them #this is entirely self indulgent #so yeah don't expect much #panic attacks #hurt/comfort #a soft dusk

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hermits-that-craft · 4 years

Text

He’s nothing but a problem, he’ll leave you crying overnight

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27146512/chapters/66294634

Tommy lies on his bed, staring at the ceiling and willing himself to remain awake, listening to Wilbur and Techno argue outside his door. The first time Tommy’s heard Techno speak in over a week, and he’s screaming at Wilbur. Tommy can’t remember another time where Techno yelled, and he struggles to even place the concept of his older brother yelling at Wilbur. Their eldest brother.

“We don’t have to do this!” Tommy hears Techno’s voice break, as though it pains him to scream the words. “Tommy and I don’t have to fight a war for you when you’re ready to blow up our home!”

“Manburg isn’t your home!” Wilbur screams back, and Tommy buries his head in his pillows, tears springing to his eyes. “It isn’t his either! You’re a traitor, Technoblade! Just admit you’re going to hand us over to Schlatt!”

“Wilbur I’m your brother! ” Techno sounds heart broken, and Tommy chokes back a sob. “I came here to protect you, you, Wil! You and Tommy!”

“You came because Schlatt asked you to come here, don’t pretend to care about Tommy now!” Wilbur spits, and Tommy wishes that they’d leave, leave each other alone, leave him out of their arguments, leave Pogtopia and argue outside.

“Of course I care about Tommy!”

“If you cared you’d help me!”

“Stop,” Tommy cries, his voice barely audible in his room. “Please stop, please stop fighting. ”

“Of course I care, but killing innocent bystanders and civilians is-”

“And you haven’t before?” Wilbur snaps, and Tommy’s eyes widen, both him and Techno gasping. “Don’t act all innocent, Technoblade , I heard what you told Phil-”

“Phil?” Techno’s voice is quiet. “Why did you call him Phil?”

“Don’t try to deflect here, Techno-”

“Have you lost it? He’s our Dad!”

“He would betray us at the drop of a hat.” Wilbur spits, and Tommy curls in on himself, trying not to cry.

“Dad wouldn’t-”

“When has he been here, Techno?” Wilbur’s voice echoes through Tommy’s head, haunting him from within. “When has Phil ever come for us? He doesn’t care for us, he only cares about his little hardcore world and travelling. We only see him at MCC and you know it.”

“You’re lost.” Techno growls, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m taking Tommy, he doesn’t deserve to live with your paranoia-”

“Don’t you dare accuse me of paranoia-”

“Then what are you doing, accusing me of-”

Their voices mix in Tommy’s head, he can’t tell them apart anymore. Tears roll down his cheeks as he listens to them scream at each other. A sword is unsheathed, and the wall shakes as someone hits it. Tommy pulls the blanket over his head, childishly hiding under the blankets as his brothers tear each other apart.

“Dad,” Tommy sobs. “Dad please come back, please.”

Phil doesn’t return, not that Tommy expected him to. He listens as Techno screams in rage, as Wilbur screams in pain. As someone dies, hearing them respawn nearby. He listens as his older brother leaves, spewing profanities. He listens as his door opens, and his chokes back a sob as his eldest brother walks into the room, sitting on the side of the bed.

“He had to go Tommy,” Wilbur says, gently brushing Tommy’s hair. It would be comforting anywhere else, but in Pogtopia it’s fear inducing. “He was working for Schlatt. Don’t worry, we’re going to be fine without him. Who cares about the pig anyways?”

Wilbur sighs as Tommy sobs, getting off of the bed and walking to the door with heavy footsteps. Tommy pulls his head out from under the blankets, tears staining the wool and his cheeks equally. He looks at Wilbur’s silhouette, illuminated by the torches outside Tommy’s room.

“Get some sleep, Tommy. You’ll feel better in the morning.” Wilbur’s voice is soft, almost normal. Tommy can almost imagine that he’s back at home, in L’Manburg or the farm house, and Wilbur comforted him after a nightmare or a breakdown. Almost.

And Wilbur leaves, and Tommy falls into a fire filled nightmare, the screams that have haunted him since the war hitting him full force as Wilbur burns and blows up everyone and everything .

---

Tommy screams himself awake, fire licking at his brain as the nightmares fade from his mind. Wilbur runs into the room, pulling Tommy into a hug, gently patting his head. Tommy clings to his brother, tears staining Wilbur’s shirt. Wilbur hums to him, gently rocking him as he sobs into Wilbur’s chest. His sobs stop, not due to any lack of fear or sadness but due to him having nothing left to cry, no tears nor energy left.

“Are you actually going to kill everyone in L’Manburg?” Tommy’s voice is soft, broken from the crying. “Are you actually going to blow home up?”

“Of course not, Tommy.” Wilbur says, ruffling Tommy's hair. “I’m going to give the people what they want, I’m not going to hurt anyone.”

“Techno said-”

“Techno’s working with Schlatt now, Tommy.” Wilbur says, and Tommy’s heart stops. His eyes tear up, but none fall and Wilbur pushes Tommy away from himself, holding onto Tommy's shoulders. “We can only trust each other now.”

“No, Techno wouldn’t-” Tears slip down Tommy’s face. “Would he?”

“I’m so sorry, Toms.” Wilbur says softly, and Tommy breaks, sobbing the remaining tears away, and then screaming as Wilbur watches him shatter. “He killed me last night, I was lucky to have set my spawn nearby, he would have kidnaped you.”

Tommy breaks, shattering on the floor of his room. Wilbur doesn’t help him pick up the pieces, just smiling as Tommy screams in pain. He doesn’t hurt, not physically at least. It’s emotional. It’s more guilt than anger. He should have known, he should have stopped him.

“C’mon Toms,” Wilbur offers Tommy his hand, and Tommy grabs him, holding onto Wilbur’s hand like it’s his lifeline. “Lets go and make a new base now. One where Techno and Schlatt can’t find you.”

Tommy doesn’t notice the look in Wilbur’s eyes, one that would haunt him if he only saw it. If he only noticed the smirk on Wilbur’s face while he was crying. He didn’t even notice how Wilbur only mentioned that Tommy would be staying at the new base.

He should have known better.

---

“Techno,” Schlatt says from the podium, watching as Techno rides into Manburg on his horse. Tubbo’s eyes widen as he sees the exhausted look in Techno’s eyes. “I know that you don’t understand what we’re trying to do here, but this isn’t when-”

“Wilbur’s gone insane.” Techno says, hopping off of the horse. “He’s kidnapped Tommy. I need your help. I’ll do anything, just help me get my little brother back.”

“He kidnapped Tommy?” Tubbo’s voice is quiet, echoing over the shocked crowd.

“Why?” Nikki yells. “Why would he do that?”

“Techno, please tell me that you’re lying.” Eret says, walking over to the fellow king. “One king to another, please tell me that this is a lie.”

“Why would I lie about something like this!” Techno’s voice breaks, and the group stands shocked as all of his emotions come out. “My little brother’s been kidnapped and you lot are the only people who can help!”

“We’ll help.” Quackity says immediately, stepping down from the podium and walking towards Techno. “What do you need us to do?”

“Quackity, why would we-” Schlatt frowns, confusion on his face. “Why would we offer help to Techno? For all we know he’s going to take us to a trap.”

“I should have listened to him.” Tubbo says under his breath, horror written on his face. “Oh god, this is all my fault!”

“What do you mean?” Schlatt asks, frowning at the teen. “How is this your fault?”

“Tommy,” Tubbo’s panicking now, hyperventilating as everyone's eyes rest on him. “He told me that Wilbur had lost it, shit.”

“Tubbo just because you were warned-” Nikki begins, trying to calm the boy down. “-doesn’t mean that this is your fault.”

“You don’t understand Nikki! He wanted to run, to run away. I said no! This is my fault! I made him go back!”

---

Tommy sits on the cliffside, watching the waves hit against the cliff as Dream and Wilbur work on hiding their new base. Tommy pulls his cloak around him, clinging onto the naive hope that everything will get better. That Tubbo and Techno and Nikki and Fundy and even Eret will join the trio. They won't. Even so, Tommy clings to the hope, his eyes tired and empty.

He doesn’t want to be alone again.

“Tommy!” Dream calls out to him, and Tommy lifts his head, looking over at the adult. “We’ve built you a room, you should come in.”

“Okay.” Tommy’s voice falls flat, nearly disappearing under the crashing of the waves. “Coming.”

He stands, walking over to the hole that Wilbur and Dream had cut into the cliff face. He misses the glance that the pair exchange, walking into the room. It’s not small, though it is roughly hewn and the walls are made of thick stone. A pocket of granite rests on the far wall, and some diorite lies in the ceiling and the floor. A table rests in the room, made of oak, and a furnace lies against the wall, next to a chest with a crafting bench in the corner. A starter base, that’s what it looks like to him. A bed rests in a corner, and without a second thought, Tommy lies down on it, knowing that this room isn’t the one they were referencing, but being too scared to risk respawning in Pogtopia again.

That was the wrong thing to do.

Tommy stands, and Dream ender pearls behind the teen. Blood falls from Tommy’s lips and pain blooms from his chest. Dream pulls the sword from Tommy’s chest and the teen lets loose a scream, gut wrenching and heart breaking and painful to hear. Tommy falls to the ground, betrayal and fear written across his face. He looks at Wilbur who just smiles at him, and the universe turns him to dust.

TommyInnit was slain by Dream

Tubbo lets loose a scream, pain in his voice as he reads through the message that everyone received. Techno growls, throwing his axe into a tree in rage. Nikki lets loose a cry as Eret holds Tubbo together, Fundy punching a wall in the background. The Manburgians look as though fury isn’t an emotion, but something that they can wield as a weapon. Schlatt glares at the forest, but doesn’t move as Quackity lets loose a scream of rage.

“That bastard!” Quackity screams. “That fucking bastard!”

“We need to find him.” Techno glares at the forest, hopping onto his horse. “I’m going to see if he spawned in Pogtopia.”

“I’ll check spawn.” Eret says, and he offers his hand to Tubbo. “You should come with me, he’ll be more comfortable if you’re there.”

Tubbo takes his hand, silently thankful that he doesn’t have to stay with Schlatt or Nikki again. He doesn’t mind the group, really, he doesn’t, but he can’t deal with their constant ‘are you okay’s and ‘you should take a break’s. It’s as though the pair put aside their problems with each other to focus their energy on him, and Tubbo can’t stand it. It’s a nice sentiment, but he’ll kill them if they ask him again.

“Tubbo, are you-”

“If you ask me if I’m okay I’ll install a hack and fucking destroy your castle, Eret.” Tubbo glares at the ground. “What’s Dream going to do? Kick me out? He killed Tommy!”

“Why does it bother you so much this time?” Eret asks, curiosity in their voice.

“I don’t know.” Tubbo admits. “I guess I just thought that he’d help Tommy out.”

“Maybe he did.” Eret says. “Maybe he got Tommy away from Wilbur, we won’t know until we see him, after all.”

“I don’t think he killed him to help Tommy out.” Tubbo glares at the dirt, as though it was the dirts fault that his friend is missing. “But you know Dream better than I do, what do you think?”

Eret stares out towards the sunset, as the pair walk towards the secret entrance to the spawn chunk. Eret sighs deeply, adjusting their glasses onto their face and running their hands through their hair. “I think that you’re right.” They admit. “Dream doesn’t do anything to help anyone else unless it means that he can use it to his advantage.”

They enter spawn, and find it empty, as though no one had been there in a very long time.

---

“Tommy! Tommy I’m here!” Techno yells, running down the steps to Pogtopia. He doesn’t care that Quackity followed him, or that Nikki watches him with worried eyes. Composure be damned, his little brother needs him.

The trio race through Pogtopia, searching every nook and cranny for the youngest member of the server. Nikki screams her voice hoarse in the forest surrounding Pogtopia, and Quackity scours the nether without seeing hide nor hair of the teen. Techno tears the ravine apart, searching for the boy. None of them see him, and as Quackity and Nikki return to Pogtopia, to help Techno, they find him in Tommy’s room, gently holding onto something. They exchange glances, noticing how Techno’s communicator rests on the bedside table, his messages unchecked.

He doesn’t know that Tommy hadn’t respawned in a place that they can find him. He doesn’t know that Tommy could be anywhere. He doesn’t know that Dream didn’t free the boy.

“Techno?” Quackity’s voice is quiet, and he sinks down next to the man. “We couldn’t find him.”

“I should have taken him with me last night.” Techno breathes, and Nikki pulls him into a hug.

“You couldn’t have, Wilbur killed you.” Nikki says. “It’s alright, Techno. I’m sure Tommy’s alright.”

“He didn’t respawn at spawn, did he?” Techno asks, and the look on Quackity’s face, one of complete despair, answers louder than any words could. “I need- I could,” Techno’s voice is shaky, upset. “Dad. I need to tell Dad.”

“You can call him now,” Quackity helps Techno to his foot, pushing the crown further back onto Techno’s head. “We’ll wait.”

“Thank you.” Techno says, leaving the ravine that he spent months in. Nikki brushes tears from her eyes, and Quackity pulls her into a hug.

“We’ll find him.” Quackity promises. “We’ll make sure he’s okay.”

---

“Wilbur, please let me out!” Tommy yells, his eyes tired and empty. “Please, I promise I won’t leave this base I just hate small spaces please, Wil!” Tommy bangs his fist on the door, his eyes wide and pleading as he looks up to his older brother.

“I can’t let you out, Tommy.” Wilbur sounds sad, regretful almost. It confuses Tommy, making him wonder what the hell is going on with Wilbur. “I can’t let you get hurt. Schlatt wants to permakill you, I wont let him. So you have to stay in here.”

“Please Wil.” Tommy begs, watching helplessly as Wilbur seals the door with a layer of cobble. Tommy rests his head against the cool metal of the iron, tears falling down his face. “Please.”

---

“It’s been two days!” Tubbo yells, glaring at Schlatt. “We have to go get him, now!”

“We don’t know where he is, Tubbo.”

“Then let me hack!”

“Absolutely not!” Nikki says, standing up. “You’ll be kicked the second that Dream finds out!”

“I could do it.” Fundy says. “I’m good at coding, hacking can’t be too hard.”

“Fundy-” George goes to protest, before shaking his head. “-It’s too risky. Sure, you’ve got more protection from Dream than Tubbo has, but Dream isn’t dumb. He’d know that Tubbo taught you.”

“We need to find Tommy-”

“And we will.” Eret says, standing up from his throne. “But we first need to separate into search parties, to coordinate groups so that there's an even amount of fighters in each group. We will need people here to man the fort and make sure that Wilbur and Dream don’t blow everything sky high, and to be prepared to deal with injuries. We’ll need groups to search everywhere and everything, to be packs for weeks of searching.” Eret takes a deep breath in, their voice quiet. “It takes time to plan these sorts of things, Tubbo. We need to make sure everything is correct or else we’ll be wasting time.”

“We’re playing with his life!” Tubbo protests, and everyone makes noises of protest, except for one.

“I know.” Eret sighs. “But we have to trust that Tommy is strong enough to hold out until we can find him.”

“A few days could make the difference between life and death.”

“I know.”

“And we’re just going to hope that he’ll be fine?”

“It’s all we can do, right now.” Eret sighs, a sad expression on their face. “I wish it was different. I really do. I wish we were just looking for Wilbur and Dream to have a final showdown and then we could send them both off to therapy, to get them help. But it's a rescue mission, and we have to do this right.”

Techno stands, walking out of the room. Everyone stares after him, no one knowing what to do, why he would leave. Nikki walks to the window he was gazing out of and gasps, seeing something, someone she doesn’t know anymore.

---

“You called Phil.” Wilbur says plainly, sitting on the castle walls. Techno glares up at him, and Wilbur laughs. “Oh, don’t give me that look, we both know that you did! Is he coming?”

“Wil-”

“Did he even pick up?” Wilbur asks quietly, almost sadly. Techno looks away, not knowing what to say. The truth would make Wilbur think he’s right, the lie would only serve to hurt them all.

“No.” The truth is spoken, and it can’t be taken back. “He didn’t pick up.”

“I thought so.” Wilbur sighs. “He never comes for you, does he?”

“Don’t make this about me.”

“You’re always ignored, left behind by him. By us.” Wilbur puts him hand on Techno’s shoulder. “We’ve treated you so poorly that you’d betray us. And I just wanted to apologise for that.”

A notification buzzes on the pairs communicators, and Wilbur pulls it out, looking at it. His face pales, and he looks at Techno with wide eyes, as though whatever is said is terrifying. Their communicators buzz again, and Wilbur quickly runs towards his horse, offering his hand to Techno.

“Somethings slaughtering Tommy.” Wilbur says, and Techno takes his hand, leaving with his brother.

TommyInnit was suffocated trying to escape Dream TommyInnit was suffocated TommyInnit was suffocated TommyInnit was suffocated

“We have to go now!” Tubbo screams, pushing Eret. “We have to go help him! Give me my fucking keyboard I don’t care if I get banned!”

“You should!” Eret argues back. Nikki nods, while the room watches the pair argue, a mixture of horror and anger on everyone’s faces.

“Well I don’t!” Tubbo screams back, tears racing down his face, flushed red with anger. “I don’t care if I’m banned, Tommy needs our help!”

“Where will you go?” Eret asks. “If you get banned for hacking you realise that other servers won’t exactly want you on them, right?”

“Then I’ll go to a world by myself!” Tubbo’s voice breaks, his face falling. “Please Eret, we have to get him back.”

“Then we should follow Wilbur.” Schlatt says, walking towards the door. “Tubbo, stay here with Eret and Nikki, we’ll message you if we need you to hack. Quackity, Punz, Sap and George follow me.”

TommyInnit was suffocated TommyInnit was suffocated TommyInnit was suffocated TommyInnit was suffocated

It burnt as it forced its way down his throat. Swimming in sand and gravel and concrete powder, the only way to tell the three apart is through textures that he doesn’t bother to differentiate anymore. It’s too hard to move, anymore. It’s almost like he’s floating in the different textures, though it’s all he can feel. It burnt. It still burns. Tears spring in his eye, though he doesn’t have the energy to let them fall anymore. He doesn’t have the energy to do much anymore, just to let himself suffocate in the shit Dream put on him.

He used to struggle. It feels like he’s been there for years, struggling and fighting against the inevitable. Dream coming into his cell with a netherite sword and anger feels like it happened centuries ago, the fear gone. His eyes close, and he opens his mouth and lets more gravel fall into his lungs, waiting for the blissful moments between death and life.

TommyInnit was suffocated

Techno urges the horse to run faster, worry eating at his stomach. Who would spawn trap his little brother? Why would Dream fight Tommy if he’s already trapped somewhere? Why would Wilbur help him find Tommy?

Is Wilbur back?

The horse jumps over a tree, Wilbur leaning into the action. Techno takes out a crossbow, and a skeleton dissipates into a cloud of smoke. A buzz sounds from his pocket.

TommyInnit was suffocated

Schlatt runs, following the horse’s footprints deeper into the forest, a sinking feeling setting in his stomach. This feels too staged, too much as though Wilbur brought himself to Eret’s castle to sway Techno back to his side. Still, he’s determined. He can bring Tommy to safety. He’ll even give the teen citizenship again if it means that he’ll stay away from Wilbur.

His lungs ache, and his feet and calves burn from exhaustion. He keeps running, Sapnap and Punz falling behind to fight the mobs that quickly spawn around them. Schlatt only grunts in response to Sapnap, telling them to keep following the trail.

They can’t afford to be too late. Tommy is too young to perma-die because someone doesn’t know the laws of the universe.

TommyInnit was suffocated

“We need bandages, health and regen pots and honey.” Nikki orders, sending people across both of the countries to find the items she needs. Tubbo paces nervously, Eret not allowing him out of sight from the fear that he’d do something stupid.

He would. But Eret doesn’t need to know that.

“Tubbo, please stop pacing.” Eret asks him quietly, wrapping his cape around the teen’s shoulders. “We have to trust that Schlatt, George, Sapnap and Punz will bring him back.”

“They’ll kill him. They’ll permakill him.” Tubbo’s eyes go dark. “I know they will. They’re monsters.”

TommyInnit was suffocated

Wilbur was supposed to be back by now. Dream watches as Tommy turns into a fine dust once more, waiting for the man to return. He taps his foot, his sword in his hand. He doesn’t want to kill Techno, but if the hybrid loses a finger or an arm while he’s decommissioning him, well.

Dream wouldn’t necessarily mind that. He would even consider it a blessing, taking Techno down a peg.

Horses hoover thunder over the horizon, and Dream’s smile widens under his mask, patting the top of Tommy’s head. He enderpearls to the top of a tree, watching as the two brothers run towards where he had pulled Tommy and his bed to.

Wilbur plays his role well. Dream can’t wait to see how this act will end.

TommyInnit was suffocated

The kingdom is silent. Tubbo stares out the window, catching himself as he slowly lulls himself to sleep, waiting for Tommy to arrive. He pulls Eret’s cape close to himself, blinking as he struggles to stay awake. Nikki sleeps on Eret’s throne, the medical supplies lying nearby. Eret stay awake, pacing the rooms and corridors of the castle. No one else remained, having left to return to the comfort of their own beds.

Sapnap and Punz had returned a few hours before midnight, talking in hushed whispers about mobs and losing the president and his cabinet. Nikki had told them that there would be a search party for the group if they do not return before dawn. Had sworn it to them. All parties involved had wondered why she wasn’t president, in that moment.

None had dared to ask her out loud, though Tubbo was close to.

It had been two hours since Sapnap and Punz had left, and at least four hours since Tommy’s last death message in chat. Not comforting, not uncomfortable. Eret scrolls through his messages, hoping and praying for a message from anyone, even Wilbur or Dream. Maybe its just hope that he’ll get a message telling him that Tommy is alright, maybe it’s fear about hearing the worst, but he remains awake, watching Tubbo struggle to remain awake.

Tubbo’s head lolls onto the window pane, and Eret notices his breathing even, the teen falling into a sleep that Eret can only pray is peaceful. The man picks up Tubbo, carrying him to a spare bedroom and gently tucking him into bed. He shuts the door, walking out into the garden.

The air is cool, nipping at his skin unpleasantly. He misses the warmth that summer brings, but the autumnal air doesn’t feel uncomfortable just yet. His communicator buzzes. Once. Twice. Thrice, before his fingers fumble and he picks it up, not bothering to find out who is calling him.

“Eret!” Phil’s voice crackles over the communicator. “Techno called me, said something’s wrong. That Wilbur kidnaped Tommy and gone insane. But he’s not picking up anymore. Do you know where they are?”

“Tommy was trapped in a death loop the last time I saw Techno or Wilbur.” Eret admits, staring at the moon. “I don’t know what’s happened to any of them. They haven’t sent a message in at least four hours. And the last message was a death notification for Tommy, so that hardly counts.”

“Tommy was still dying at eight?” Phil’s voice is fearful, quiet. “Do you know what was killing him?”

“He first suffocated trying to get away from Dream, then it was just suffocation.” Eret feels tears being to pool in his eyes. “I don’t know if I want the answer to if he’s still alive. He died so many times, the poor thing will be traumatised beyond recognition if...”

Neither of them finish the sentence, the idea of Tommy’s demise hanging heavily over their heads. Eret paces the garden, watching the flowers sway in the breeze. They need someone to come, to save everyone and make everything go back to normal.

“Who went to go rescue him, besides Wilbur and Techno?”

“Schlatt, George and Quackity. Sapnap and Punz also went, but they returned two hours ago when the mobs got too hard for them to fight. The group separated because of mobs, apparently.” Eret frowns. “Punz said it was unnatural, how many were spawning.”

“Could Dream have spawned them in to keep Tommy and the others where he had them?” Phil asks quietly.

“I don’t know.” Eret admits. “Probably.”

“I’ll meet you at spawn. I’ll bring the captain as well, I’m assuming Tubbo is trying to hack?” Phil’s voice is light, but it carries a heavy threat for Wilbur and Dream.

“I only just got him to sleep.” Eret runs his hands through his hair. “See you soon.”

#fic #dream smp #im not tagging everyone #angst #whump

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years

Text

Seal the Deal

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 2658

Summary: A hunt gone bad leads to Dean’s death. While Sam looks for solutions in vain, you make an appointment with a crossroads demon.

Notes: Here is the first part of the Deal series! This series is gonna be suuuuuuper dark, so fair warning to all of you. I’m really really proud of these three imagines, so I really hope you guys enjoy. As always, let me know what you think!

Warnings: Death, gore, mentions of Hell, plenty of guilt, sacrifice

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

Thursday 4:44 P.M.

You messed up. You had been so sure, so ready to be the hero. Why wouldn’t you just listen to them?

Sam and Dean stood on either side of yo, guns raised and shoulders tense. Two pairs of black eyes glistened wickedly. They definitely weren’t vampires.

“I think we owe the pretty one a thank you.” The one possessing the girl laughed. “Sam and Dean Winchester dropped at our feet like a good hunting dog.”

“What am I, hellhound food?” You snarked, readying your weapon. She just smiled.

“You will be.”

“Enough talk.” Dean stepped in front of you, his defensive boyfriend mode activated.

The boys leapt into action, Sam taking the man on the right and Dean took the one on the girl with the mouth. You only had your knife, but luckily Dean had come prepared with an angel blade. She swung her arm forward, crashing a nearby table into both of you. You recovered quickly and lunged at her. The demon Sam was fighting grabbed you by your hair and prepared to slit your throat.

“No!” Dean shouted, throwing the angel blade into the demon’s chest.

That’s when a sick snap echoed through the room, making the rest of the world go silent. You turned around and felt everything inside of you shatter. The demon had her hands on either side of Dean’s face, his head turned in an unnatural way. His body fell, but you didn’t hear it hit the ground. You didn’t hear anything. Not Sam screaming out his brother’s name or the demon’s dying shriek when he ran it through.

You didn’t realize you had moved until you were on the floor, checking Dean’s broken neck for a pulse. You watched the life fade out of his eyes, his green irises staring blankly at you.

“Come on Dean, we have to go.” You whimpered, laying a hand on his cheek.

“Dean…” Sam crouched down beside you. “No. No, Dean you can’t go like this.” He clutched his brother’s hand, letting out a painful, guttural cry. “Dean!”

10:27

Dean Winchester was dead. His body laid on the bed in front of you. This was real. And it was your fault. Sam was pacing back and forth, muttering something about calling Cas and looking for spells.

“I’m so sorry, Sam.” You muttered. He stopped moving.

“Everything is going to be okay.” He assured you, his eyes filled with desperate hope. “We’ll get him back.”

“This is my fault.” You wiped a tear with the back of your hand. “We went in unprepared because I didn’t listen to you. Dean dropped his guard because he was saving me.”

“You can’t think like that.” He sat beside you, reaching out to comfort you, but you pulled away. “You’ll find all the ways to blame yourself, believe me, I know. But that isn’t going to help Dean.”

“He threw that blade without a second thought.” You mused, as if you hadn’t heard what he said. “He gave up his only weapon to stop me from getting hurt.” You finally tore your eyes away from Dean and looked at his younger brother. “Why would he do that?” Sam’s eyebrows drew together.

“He loves you, Y/N.” He said softly. “Dean protects the people he cares about, no matter what it costs him. He sold his soul to save me all those years ago. It’s who he is.” You froze, letting his words sink in.

“You’re right.” You sat up straighter, pulling your thoughts together. “Sitting here feeling sorry for myself isn’t going to bring him back.” But you knew what would. Sam nodded.

“Cas has been M.I.A so far, but he might know what to do.” Sam looked at his brother with determination. “You should try and get some sleep. We’re going to need all of us at our best game to get him back.”

“When are you going to sleep?” You countered. Sam sighed, putting a hand on Dean’s arm.

“When I figure out how I’m getting my brother back.” You huddled close to the younger Winchester. Laying your head on his shoulder, you tried to fight the exhaustion that was slowly taking over your limbs. Sam leaned into you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “We’re going to get him back.”

“We’re going to get him back.” You repeated. The world needed Dean alive. You needed him. Before you fell asleep, you looked at his face. You would give anything to see those green eyes again. Anything.

Friday 3:23 A.M.

“Y/N! Sam! Anybody!” Dean’s screams echoed in the dark. Fire ignited around him, illuminating the table he was strapped down to. A saw blade hung above him. “Not again. I can’t do this again. Sam! Y/N!”

The saw’s shrill cry drowned out his painful pleas for help. It lowered ominously towards him. Dean’s blood splattered his screaming face as the saw cut into his rib cage.

You woke up to darkness in a bed that was not your own. It took a moment to catch your breath and for your eyes to adjust. You were in Sam’s room. He must have carried you in here when you fell asleep. It was nicer than the couch and Dean was in the bed that you shared. Dean. The image of his chest splitting open burned itself into your head and you rushed into Sam’s bathroom. You threw up the little you had in your stomach before stumbling through the bunker to you and Dean’s room.

He was just a still shadow in the dark. You collapsed next to the bed, hands clinging to his unharmed chest. Tears streamed down your face and your words came out as garbled sobs.

“I’m going to get you out.” You swore. “It should be me. You’ve already suffered so much. It should be me.” You fell into a shaking, crying mess on the floor, a hand still desperately clutching his. You had to fix this. Dean wasn’t supposed to die. If you had just listened…

“Y/N?” Sam opened the door, letting light stream in the room. When you could see the body, you started screaming. You shrieked like you had lost your mind. Maybe you had. All you could see was Dean on the table being ripped apart.

Sam grabbed you and lifted you up off of the floor. You fought him without thinking and he trapped you in his arms until you had calmed down enough to stand on your own.

“We have to save him, Sam. We have to save him.”

“We will.” He put his hands on your shoulders. “We’re going to find Cas and we’re going to make a plan.” You shook your head.

“No, no, Sam we don’t have time. We have to get him out. He’s been there too long already.”

“Y/N, what are you talking about?”

“I saw him and-and-” You started hyperventilating and Sam put your amblings aside, chalking them up to panic and grief. He pulled you close again, keeping your face to his chest. Dean would know what to do. He stared at Dean’s body and did the one thing he could do. He prayed.

2:07 P.M.

There was nothing Cas could do. Without his grace, he couldn’t even transport on his own, let alone raise someone from the dead. He felt so useless.

“We’ll find a way.” Sam refused to give up. If he had to go to the ends of the Earth, he would. It’s what Dean would have done for him.

Sam was worried about you. You hadn’t said a word since last night and you wouldn’t leave the room. You barely even blinked when Cas arrived. He knew how much you loved his brother and he knew how much the guilt was gnawing at you.

“Should I talk to her?” Cas asked. Sam shook his head.

“Not yet.” He said somberly. “She’ll feel better once we have a plan.”

“Sam,” Cas sighed, “I think we might need to start making other kinds of plans.”

“What?”

“I want Dean back as much as you do, but you know this isn’t what he would want.” Cas knew that someone had to be the voice of reason, even if he wanted nothing more than to bring Dean back to life.

“What if it was me in that bed? Or Y/N? Or you?” Sam snapped, jabbing a finger at his chest. “Dean would not rest until we were alive again.” Cas’ face pleaded with him and Sam’s shoulders slumped. “But,” He took a breath, “if nothing works, and we’ve turned over every stone, looked at every spell… then we have to let him rest in peace. He’s earned that.”

You stood around the corner, your heart sinking with every word. He wasn’t at peace. Unless you did something, he would never be at peace. You crept back to the room, making sure not to make any noise. You carefully closed the door and lowered your voice so Sam and Cas wouldn’t hear.

“Sam’s working hard to find a way to bring you back.” You leaned against the wall, watching Dean as if you were expecting him to respond. “But they’re not going to find anything. Life's just not that easy for us.” You paced forward, standing over him with a sad smile. One of your tears fell down onto his lips.

“I know what I have to do. Trouble is, I know that you’re gonna hate me when you wake up.” You lifted his hand, holding it against your heart. “But that doesn’t matter. The world needs you, Dean. Sam needs you. I-” You choked back a sob. “I need you to come back, baby.”

You knew that this was right. You just hoped you could be brave enough to do it.

11: 49 P.M.

It was a warm night, but you still felt an icy chill run down your spine as you stood at the crossroads.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Dean Winchester’s little pet.” Her red eyes glistened when she smiled.

“You know why I’m here.” You snapped. You didn’t have time for witty demon banter.

“Yeah, yeah, you want your boyfriend back because one of my black-eyed friends snapped that pretty neck.” She rolled her eyes. “What is it with you people and sacrificing yourselves all the time? Dean’s gone, sweet cheeks. Move on.”

“Can you do it or not?” You were half tempted to take an angel blade to her throat.

“Dean’s a pretty big player. He’s already gotten out of hell once, not to mention all of the trouble he’s caused for us.” She started to circle you, her wicked grin making your skin crawl.

“Look, if you can’t do it, can we just-” She clicked her tongue like she was scolding a child.

“I didn’t say I couldn’t do it.” The demon stalked towards you. “But it’s going to take a lot of pulled strings and I don’t have ten years to wait around for your soul.”

“That’s fine.” You growled, stepping forward. You weren’t afraid of her. “Dean only got a year when he saved Sam.”

“Oh, I don’t have a year either.” You faltered for a moment.

“How long will I have?” She seemed to be calculating in her head, counting off on her fingers. Her smile grew.

“I can give you until Monday at midnight.”

“What?”

“Three days. 72 hours to spend getting freaky with Dean-o before I feed you to the dogs.” She laughed, watching your confidence fade.

“Three days?”

“Do we have a bargain or not? I have other appointments, you know.”

“You swear that you can bring him back? No tricks. Just Dean, him and his soul in one piece?” She held up her hand in a mock pledge.

“Scout’s honor.” For a second you just stood there. Could you do this? You didn’t have a choice. “Come on, Y/N. You have to seal the deal.”

The clock struck twelve, the sound of the bell snapping you out of your trance and restoring your courage. You yanked the demon forward, colliding your lips into hers. She pulled back, red eyes flashing with twisted delight.

“Time starts now.”

Saturday 12:32 A.M.

Sam finished lighting the last candle and inhaled the overpowering scents of artificial pine and apple cinnamon. It was nauseating, but it would hopefully help when the room started to smell. He turned to the body and sighed. Cas was right. They needed to do something. He heard the bunker door open and rushed out to the entry, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Where the hell have you been?” He demanded. You looked at him blankly. “Y/N, you can’t just run off in the middle of the night. I was worried that you had-” He didn’t even want to think about it. But you were here now and not at the bottom of a ditch, which was something to be grateful for.

“I’m fine, Sam.” You tried to keep your hands from shaking by holding onto the railing as you went down the stairs. Sam noticed the dirt on your hands and the still determined look in your eyes.

“Y/N,” his expression changed from angry to panicked. “Where were you?”

“Does somebody want to tell me why my room smells like an old woman’s car?” The voice echoed from down the hall. Sam’s eyes went wide and your heart started to race. As soon as Dean appeared in the doorway, you leaped into his arms. You took his face in your hands and kissed him like it was the first time. Confused, though pleased, by this greeting, Dean pulled away.

“Dean,” Sam let out a sigh of relief and hugged his brother, momentarily forgetting your suspicious absence.

“What the hell is going on?” Dean barked, eyes darting between his brother and his girlfriend.

“What do you remember?” Sam asked.

“I remember the demons and this neck cramp like you wouldn’t believe.” He thought for a moment, everything slowly coming back to him. “I was in this place. A home. My home. There were pictures on the mantle with me in them…” HIs gaze landed on you and he smiled lovingly. Your blood ran cold. No. “You were in them too. There were a few of me and Sammy, on hunting trips- but not our kind of hunting. Normal people hunting.” He stared off, like he was trying to go back. “Y/N, you came in holding this little boy with my chin and your smile.” He finally snapped out of it, remembering where he was. “Anyway, I heard this clock bell chime and I woke up surrounded by a whole Yankee candle store.”

“Dean…” Sam said softly. “I think you were… in Heaven.”

“I don’t know, but it sure felt like it.” Dean sighed. He had seen the life he always wanted. A real life, a family, with you.

You just stared, processing every word. Sam read your face and remember your unexplained absence.

“Y/N, where did you go?” He spoke in that low voice that always came before he went off.

“He’s back now, Sam.” You held your head up. You did the right thing. You did the right thing. Dean froze.

“What is he talking about?”

“Y/N disappeared for four hours and then you suddenly came back to life.”

“You wanted him back too, Sam!” You yelled. You did the right thing.

“Not like that!” Sam’s voice boomed and the room fell silent. HIs anger dissipated into dread. “We would have found something else.”

“Not in time.” Your eyes fell to the floor. Dean put his hands on either side of your face.

“Y/N, look at me.” You looked up into those green eyes- the ones that you sold your soul to see again. You would never regret it. Dean watched your chin tremble, confirming his fears. “Baby…” You could see his heart break. “What did you do?”

Continue to 72 Hours

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto;

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy

#dean winchester x reader #winchester october takeover #death warning #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural imagine #jensen ackles #Jared Padalecki

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rolandtowen · 3 years

Text

After years of courting, Sokka is still unraveling the layers of shame and guilt that Ozai wrapped Zuko in. An assassination attempt reveals yet another level of Zuko's trauma - luckily, Sokka is by his side his time to help him through the aftereffects.

content warnings: past child abuse, original character death, blood and injury, self-esteem issues | can be read as a follow-up to all the perfumes of arabia | read it under the cut!

“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.”

- Mary Oliver

Sokka wakes up to the smell of burning flesh.

At once, he's out bed, grabbing his sword from it's place on the wall and assessing the situation. As he looks around, Zuko staggers back into their room, breathing heavily and gesturing for Sokka to drop his sword.

Zuko's shirt is slick with blood.

He collapses to the ground, his back sliding down the wall. Sokka rushes to him, kneeling at his side, checking for open wounds, praying to Yue that no major veins have been hit -

"It's not mine, I'm okay, it's - it's Min's." Zuko has a glassy look in his eyes. Sokka looks away from him for long enough to into the hallway outside their room. The crowd of Kyoshi Warriors parts, and Sokka can see two bodies on the ground. One, burnt beyond recognition - the other belongs to one of Zuko's personal aids, Min. He could have been sleeping, except for the mass of blood pouring from a laceration on his abdomen. Zuko makes a broken noise and Sokka's snapped back to this moment, Zuko crying in front of him.

"Zuko, what happened? You need to talk, baby. You gotta talk or you'll hyperventilate."

Zuko takes a painfully deep breath. "I thought I heard... something, and I sent Min to go check on it - and then I heard him scream - and I ran out and saw all of the blood, Sokka I never knew someone had so much blood in them - and then there was a man trying to stab me, and I defended myself." Zuko looks where his hands have fallen in his lap, trembling. "It, it was self defense right? I didn't want to, but he had just hurt Min and I was so scared -"

"Shh, shh, baby," Sokka presses a kiss to Zuko's forehead, pulling his shaking hands into a strong hold. "You did everything just right. You did everything right." He squeezes Zuko's hands, applying what he hopes is the right amount of pressure to bring Zuko down from his panic attack. "We're going to sit right here and let the Warriors take care of it."

Sokka holds Zuko in his arms for what feels like hours, until Suki taps him on the shoulder and mouths, all clear. Zuko is still wide-eyed, but he's stopped his shaking for the most part.

As Suki walks away, Zuko stops her. "Suki..." Sokka can see the tears forming in his eyes. "Did Min...?"

She crouches down next to the couple. "I'm so sorry, Zuko. It was too late."

Zuko lets out a wail of emotion, and Sokka can swear he feels flames lick out of Zuko's mouth.

"It should have been me!" Zuko's voice breaks and silence falls like a curtain between them.

"How can you say that?" Zuko can't meet his eyes. He cradles his head in his hands, "Spirits, Zuko, look at me! How can you say that?" Zuko looks up at Sokka. His bottom lip is trembling and his eyes are damp. "Because it's true." "I don't know what monster convinced you of this," he whispers, gently cradling Zuko's face. "But you deserve nothing that happened to Min." Sokka can barely catch Zuko's whispered reply.

"Are you sure?"

"Beloved, I have never been more sure of anything in my life," Sokka whispers, pushing sweaty strands of hair from Zuko's face. "Please, let me help you?"

Zuko exhales, and then he breaks. He sobs into Sokka's shoulder, and Sokka rubs circles into his back, whispering in his good ear - it's okay, I'm so sorry, you're safe here, you didn't deserve this - until the storm within Zuko rains itself out, and Zuko is quivering in his arms.

"I'm sorry."

"Zuko, you have nothing to be sorry for," Sokka pulls away to get a look at his partner's face. There he is, eyes red-rimmed and skin pale, but still Zuko. "Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to get you a glass of water, you are going to drink it, and then we'll get ready for bed. You need sleep. And I'm clearing your schedule tomorrow."

Before Zuko can protest, Sokka waves Suki down and instructs her to find Zuko's secretary and push all of his appointments back at least two days. Zuko zones out as they talk, his head swimming with the action of the last hour. He's vaguely aware of Sokka leaving the floor and returning with two cups and a jug full of water. He can hear the water pouring out of the jug, and thinks about how badly he wants to wash his hands of the heinous act he just did - but he can't, and Spirits, Aang is going to hate him -

"Hey, come back to me." Sokka is pushing a half-full cup of water into his hands now. "I'm going to take a sip, and then you take one, okay?"

Zuko obliges him, and they sit like that for an eternity, trading sips back and forth. Zuko can feel the fog clearing from his brain, can see his surroundings coming into focus each time he raises the cup to his lips. His eyes finally settle on Sokka's face, and he's rewarded with one of Sokka's soft smiles.

"Are you back with me?"

Zuko nods. "I'm -"

"Baby, if you apologize to me, I'm throwing you to the turtleducks." Sokka shifts so that they're both sitting with their backs against the wall. "Do you think you can sit on the edge of the bed for me?" He holds out his hands, and Zuko accepts them, allowing himself to be dragged to his feet and placed on their bed. Sokka stands in front of him.

"Is it okay if I take this off?" He tugs at the shoulder of the bloody shirt Zuko's wearing.

"Please."

Zuko lifts his arms as Sokka guides the article of clothing over his head, and then disposes of it in a wastebasket. No sense trying to get that much blood out of shirt that will only bring back bad memories. Sokka grabs a few things from their private bathroom, and returns to Zuko, who looks up at him with a staggering amount of trust. Sokka checks him one last time for any injuries he could have missed, and then begins the painstaking process of wiping the blood from Zuko's arms and chest.

"Is this okay?"

Zuko nods, eyes trained on the water basin that becomes darker every time Sokka rinses his cloth. "Hey, look at me." Zuko meets Sokka's eyes. "We don't have to do it tonight, but at some point we're going to have to talk about what you said when you were breaking down."

"That I deserved it?"

Sokka nods, wiping at a stubborn spot on Zuko's right wrist. "I know you're a self-sacrificing idiot, but this somehow feels deeper."

Zuko sighs. Sokka knows about the Agni Kai. But had he ever elaborated about Ozai's casual abuse? Probably not, for the first few years of their relationship, Zuko was trying to run a country without a coup every five minutes.

"I - You know about my banishment." Sokka nods, lips drawing tightly at the thought. "But that wasn't... unusual. Ozai, he - he thought that pain was a really effective teaching tool for me."

Sokka's finished with his washing, and settled on the bed next to Zuko, gingerly taking one hand into his.

"I guess, growing up with that always hanging over me, I think it made me reckless. At some point, I just accepted the fact that I deserved to be hurt." Sokka gives his hand a squeeze.

"I'm so sorry."

Zuko rubs at his good eye, willing away the tears budding there. "There was nothing you could do."

"No," Sokka concedes. "But we can do something now. I don't know how, but I will find a way to show that he's wrong." He brings their hands up and kisses the back of Zuko's. "You don't deserve any of that. You deserve kindness, and compassion, and good tea, and, and - anything but that. You're a good man, Zuko. And a good leader. You deserve good things."

Zuko swallows, a lump forming in his throat at the affirmations.

"Can you say that?"

Zuko tries, he really does: "I, I deserve... I -"

"It's okay if you can't yet." Sokka pulls him into a hug. "I have no doubt we'll get there."

Zuko melts into the embrace. "Together?"

"Yeah," Sokka murmurs. "We'll make it together."

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youtuberswithalex · 4 years

Text

Period

Summary: Swallowing his panic, he tried his hardest to take a deep breath. He grabbed a wad of toilet paper and wiped, hoping to scurry to his room and get rid of the evidence of any injury before anyone could find out, but it came back soaked in just as much deep, dark blood as before. Tears sprung to his eyes as he let his hyperventilating take over.

“Daaaaaad!”

(Trans!Virgil; Adoption AU; Romantic Logicality, Paternal Moxiety, Brotherly Prinxiety, Creativitwins)

Warnings: Blood, periods, crying, explanation of the menstrual cycle, brief mention of sex, implied/referenced past child abuse, brief mention of past character death, Remus Antics (brief, non-graphic mention of a gory scene in an old movie)

Word Count: 2316

A/N: So, this has been a fic I’ve wanted to write for 12+ years, a fic that’s transpired fandom after fandom after fandom: an explanation of what a period is, to help others who won’t get/understand an explanation from other sources. I know this gets a little info-dump-y, but I tried to make it understandable. This fic is for you kids who are nervous about getting yours for the first time, like I was, and I hope seeing characters you love going through it, too, can help!

This is also the first fic I’m posting, I guess, of this Adoption AU I’ve had in my head for a while! I’ve got a couple other ideas in mind, including a part 2 to this focusing more on Roman and Virgil, sooo hit me up for some AU questions, if you have any!

-----

It was true that Virgil hadn’t really been feeling well in the past week.

He didn’t know what it was, but everything just felt… off. He didn’t want to socialize with anyone; being around people had been making a fire of rage burn in his chest, and the fact that he didn’t know why just made it ten times worse. He was exhausted to the point of nearly falling asleep in class, and would have slept through his alarms twice and been late if it hadn’t have been for Roman waking him up when he didn’t come for breakfast.

Speaking of, he hadn’t had much of an appetite, and he’d hardly been eating because of it. Even the idea of eating anything had made him feel a little gross. And his stomach had been cramping a lot.

Realistically, Virgil knew this was something he should tell Patton or Logan, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. It didn’t matter how many times Roman reassured him that their dads wouldn’t be angry at him for getting sick; until he saw it for himself, he wasn’t going to be able to believe him. So what if Patton was a nurse? So what if Roman and Logan had butted heads dozens of times since Virgil had moved in, and it had never dissolved into a screaming match? That didn’t mean they wouldn’t turn on him, or that he was a good enough kid to avoid getting on their bad side!

Besides, he wasn’t throwing up or running a fever! He was just going to waste their time if he said anything. They had more important things to worry about than him. It’s not like he was dying or anything.

…Or, so he’d thought, until Thursday afternoon when he went to the bathroom and found his underwear covered in blood.

Virgil almost screamed at the sight. As soon as he recovered, he frantically searched his body for any sign of a scrape or scratch that could have left such a mess. There was nothing. Maybe… Maybe it had already healed?

Swallowing his panic, he tried his hardest to take a deep breath. He grabbed a wad of toilet paper and wiped, hoping to scurry to his room and get rid of the evidence of any injury before anyone could find out, but it came back soaked in just as much deep, dark blood as before. Tears sprung to his eyes as he let his hyperventilating take over.

“Daaaaaad!”

Footsteps came rushing to the door faster than he’d ever heard in this household. “Virgil, are you okay?”

He choked back a sob. “I-I’m bleeding…!”

“Okay, it’s going to be okay, kiddo,” Patton soothed. “Can I come in?”

Virgil looked at himself, still on the toilet, and set the wad of toilet paper on the tank. He scrambled to stand and pull his pants up before whimpering out an “Uh-huh”.

Patton calmly came in and shut the door behind him. “Alright, where are you bleeding?”

“I-I don’t know!”

“You don’t know?” he asked with a frown.

“I…” Virgil picked up the toilet paper and showed it to him, lowering his voice to a whisper despite no one else being in there with them. “It was all over my underwear,” he explained. “And when I wiped, I…”

He trailed off as Patton tilted his head to inspect the blood, and then understanding faded onto his face as he looked away in thought. While it was only a few seconds, it felt like an eternity; his stomach started to cramp again, and Virgil found himself trembling.

“I-I haven’t been feeling good this week,” he admitted. “My stomach’s been hurting, and—and all I want to do is sleep, and I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to bother you guys, and I’m sorry, I should’ve said something, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to be sick, I don’t want to have to go to the hospital, please—!”

Patton shushed him and ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair. “Hey, hey, relax, it’s alright! You’re okay, Virgil. You’re not going to die, trust me. Especially not on my watch.”

He leaned over, put the toilet lid down, and gently pushed Virgil to sit on it before kneeling in front of him. He took a few seconds to chew on his lip in thought.

“Virgil,” he started, “At your old school, did your teachers ever take an afternoon to talk to you guys about puberty?”

Virgil shook his head.

Patton let out a breath and nodded. “I guess they probably think it’s a little too early to talk about it, huh?” he muttered. “Am I allowed to touch your stomach, honey?”

Virgil hesitated, but he nodded after a moment. Patton reached up and placed his hands on Virgil’s lower belly. When he flinched, he used his thumb to rub gentle circles into it.

“Okay, so, in your body, right down here, you have this thing called a uterus,” he softly explained. “When people are pregnant, that’s where the babies grow before—”

“Am I PREGNANT?!”

“No, no, no—!” Patton had to hold back a laugh, taking his hands away to cover his face for just a second before returning them to their original position. “You’re not pregnant, Virgil, don’t—don’t worry about that!”

Virgil snapped his mouth shut, lower lip still trembling. Patton offered him a reassuring smile as he continued.

“Your uterus has these two things connected to it called ovaries.” He used his two index fingers to draw out where they would be. “They hold a bunch of tiny little eggs inside of them that eventually would turn into people—but only under certain circumstances, at certain times, usually involving another person. If you were to get pregnant, you’d know, understand? It’s not going to happen randomly.”

Patton didn’t move on until Virgil nodded.

“Okay. Now, about once a month, one of these two little guys is going to let one of their eggs go,” he said, “and it sticks to the wall of your uterus. And your body goes…”

Patton threw his hands into the air and waved them around. “’Yay! We’re gonna have a baby!’” he cheered in a cartoony voice. Virgil let out a weak snicker. Patton counted it as a win.

“It starts to get ready for this potential baby by building up this lining around the walls, so that it’ll be extra protected from harm. And for a little while, if you… Ah…” Patton’s face turned red. “Do… certain things, with certain people, that egg might get fertilized, and that’s how pregnancy starts.”

“Like… kissing?”

Patton hummed. “No, you’d have to do a little more than that. More, uh… adult stuff.”

Virgil nodded, looking at the floor very seriously. “Taxes.”

It was a fight to keep his laugh in. “R-Right. Taxes.” He cleared his throat and continued. “Um, anyway, if that egg doesn’t get fertilized, your body says, ‘Oh, darn! Well, maybe next time!’, and it gets rid of the egg, and then it gets rid of that lining so it can make a fresh one for the next egg.” He pointed to the bloody toilet paper still gripped tightly in Virgil’s hands. “That’s what that blood is. It’s not a cut, and it’s certainly not an omen of death. It’s just a sign that you’re growing up.”

Virgil stared at the toilet paper for a long moment. “…Am I going to have to do this every month?”

“Well, not at first,” Patton replied, putting his hands on his knees. “This is a brand new feature in your body right now, so it’ll take a bit for it to fall into a real cycle. For a little bit, you might have a couple within a month, or you might not have it for another three after this. But, eventually, yeah, the body will balance itself out.”

“How long is that gonna take?”

“It depends on your body. If it takes a while, or it doesn’t seem like it’s going to balance at all, we can look into some options to help, like birth control or hormone therapy. Modern medicine is a great thing,” he said with a wink. “How about we save that conversation for a little later, though? See how this pans out for now?”

There was a beat, and then Virgil slowly nodded. He shifted and tipped his head away. “What do I do about my underwear?” he whispered.

Patton hummed and sat back, looking up at the ceiling. “Well… I’ll be honest, kiddo, I can talk your ear off about anatomy and the medical side of things, but I don’t have a clue about the products and stuff. How would you feel if I called Remus’s mom and asked her to come explain that stuff to us?”

Virgil wiped at his eyes. “Okay.”

Offering a gentle smile, Patton held his arms open; there was a moment of hesitation, and then Virgil leaned forward and wrapped his smaller arms around him. Patton held him tight and rubbed his back.

“Thank you,” he whimpered.

“Of course, sweetie. That’s what your Pop and I are here for,” he reassured. “And don’t you ever worry about bothering us if you’re not feeling well, okay? We care about you more than whatever silly things we might be working on. We want to take care of you, okay?”

Virgil shuddered in a manner that was suspiciously similar to that of a repressed sob; when he spoke next, his voice was tight and high-pitched. “Okay.”

They sat like this for a moment, with Patton holding his son close, rubbing a hand over his lower back, until he pressed a kiss into his hair and pulled back.

“Alright, Virge, I need to go call Mrs. Drake,” he said. “Is your stomach still hurting? Or anything else, for that matter? I can get you some medicine to help, if you want.”

Virgil nodded, scrubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Patton nodded and climbed to his feet. “Okay. I’ll be back as soon as I can, promise.”

He stepped out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and leaving Virgil alone with his thoughts again. He was still shaking, yes, but the terror of thinking he was going to die was settling into the more manageable fear of learning a new routine…

And maybe, a little, the risk of starting to put his trust into someone.

But maybe there wasn’t so much to fear in that one.

Virgil leaned forward and finally dropped the bloody toilet paper into the trash.

----------

The front door slammed open; Logan and Roman both nearly jumped out of their skin from where they sat at the dining room table.

“Virgil, we got your little butt-diapers!”

There was the sound of a light swat, and then the snatching of a plastic bag.

“Stahp, Remus, he’s already having a hard time with it!”

Snickering echoed through the entryway as the two climbed the half-flight of stairs leading to the main floor. As Remus made a beeline to tackle Roman out of his chair, Logan adjusted his posture to be more formal and nodded at Mrs. Drake.

“Good afternoon, Alya,” he called.

“Hi, boys,” she quickly responded. “Are they still in the bathroom?”

“I believe so, yes.”

Mrs. Drake nodded and hurried off just as Roman wrestled Remus off of him. He glanced at the hallway, and then between his twin and his father.

“Wait, what’s going on?”

“Your baby bro’s anus is bleeding for the first time!”

“No, Remus,” Logan scolded. He turned to Roman. “He’s experiencing his first menstrual period. Your father called Mrs. Drake to help teach him the technical aspects of how to best handle it.”

Roman blinked and sat up straight. “Oh! Is he going to be alright?”

“Yeah, Mom brought a bunch of stuff to help,” Remus replied, waving his hand as he plopped into the open seat next to Roman. “Pads, painkillers, heating rice bag sock things, the whole shebang. And a bunch of chocolate and candy and stuff!”

“Ah, good. I’ve seen studies that dark chocolate helps with cramps,” Logan stated.

Remus sighed. “A shame. I was hoping we’d get to see Virgie’s tiny baby rip out of his stomach. Like that scene in Aliens!”

Roman let out a whine and swatted him. “Dude, that’s my little brother!”

“Oh, come on! Your other dad’s a nurse! He could stitch him back up in no time!”

“That is not how nurses work!”

Logan hummed and adjusted his glasses, turning back to the papers he was grading. “Astounding. In less than two minutes, you’ve expressed your ignorance in both anatomy and the careers of the medical field. I suggest you brush up on them both if you truly wish to study in the field of dentistry.”

“Haa, brush up,” Roman laughed.

Logan shot him a glare over the rim of his glasses; Roman and Remus high-fived.

“Do your homework, Roman.”

Roman grinned and turned back to face his homework, but his mind instead floated back to Virgil’s condition. He bit down on his lip and shifted before looking up and tapping his pencil end against the table.

“Seriously… Virgil is going to be okay, right?” he asked.

Logan let out a soft breath. “Your brother is going to be just fine,” he gently reassured. “This is a natural thing for many people who possess uteri. He might be in pain for a little while, but ultimately, he will be alright.”

“My mom deals with it every month, and she’s not dead yet,” Remus pointed out. Then, with his grin fading a bit, he added, “Our mom probably had them, too. She must’ve, if she had us.”

Roman watched him for a long moment, and then he nodded, swallowing the lump that had snuck into his throat.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”

---------

Second A/N:

Hey, folks-- So, as it turned out, I made a bit of a mistake in explaining this. So sorry about this! Thank you so much to @romanslunchbox for pointing this out and correcting me:

“ It isn’t a huge mistake. However, in your fic you stated that the egg gets stuck in the lining of the uterus. But that is only possible with a fertilized egg. An non-fertilized egg dies in the oviducts before it can even reach the uterus. After the egg dies certain hormones are released to start the menstruation about 2 weeks later (how that works is an entire shit show of hormones and stuff). It takes a while for these hormones to be released, so the uterus keeps producing more lining for the egg to get stuck in. When the uterus finally gets the signale that there is no pregnancy, that is when the menstruation starts. “

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #patton sanders #paternal moxiety #the ending's kinda weak but eh #i wrote this in one day #whaddya gonna do #roman sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders

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