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that-one-fandom-vore-blog · 4 years

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it’s because he’s afraid (exactly)

Wow. This is a monster of a fic and I have absolutely no apologies for writing it (nearly 30 pages of absolute angst!). First fic installation of the shifter ‘verse! Just to clarify, this happens later in the story, after all the boys know about Davey’s identity as a shifter, though they aren’t exactly... excited about it. Warnings up here for: panic, mentions of fatal (doesn’t happen), vore, a little bit of blood/injury, and fearplay. Hope y’all enjoy!

The cellar was cold.

More than cold. The darkness of the room was nearly suffocating. The air was damp and tasted of mould, and the harder Davey tried to focus on the sliver of light filtering in from beneath the heavy wooden door, the more his vision seemed to swim in and out of focus in a way that made his head spin. Everything around him was hazy. He could feel concrete under his palms and pressing against his back, and with every breath he forced himself to take in the darkness, the more painful the throbbing in his head grew. Inhaling, choking on the stagnant air, Davey balled his hands into fists. His shoulders shook.

How long has it been?

He didn’t know the answer.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

Long enough for the gash on his cheek to scab over and for the small pangs of hunger to turn to a constant ache. Every noise echoed. His heartbeat sounded far too loud, muffling the noises of footsteps and voices coming from upstairs to a point where they sounded like they were coming from another world, and they may as well have been. Not a single person had come down to see him since he’d been tossed into the dark, dank prison, not to ridicule him, not to bind him, not to—

His stomach growled.

A choked little moan wound up from his throat. Shifting his weight, trying in vain to curl up on his side rather than continue kneeling with his back pressed up against the ceiling, Davey managed to curl up tighter.

The fact that they’d gotten him into the cellar in the first place was his own fault, he knew, but he’d clung to that stubborn hope that maybe, just maybe, if he obeyed their commands they’d let him off easy, keep him with the other boys. Crutchie had said something about it, something about bunks crammed so tightly together you couldn’t see the floor, and Davey could’ve sworn he’d seen some of them as he’d been dragged through the refuge’s doors, but he couldn’t quite recall it. It had been a mess. A mess of colours and shapes that didn’t make sense, and it had been near dark when he’d been hauled in, anyway.

All he remembered was his heart beating out of his chest and the sound his shoes had made as they dragged across the floor. He remembered talking in a hushed voice, remembered giving up on struggling, remembered trying to talk down the pair of thugs that had him by the arms.

And that had gone so well.

One of his eyes was still swollen shut from being thrown down the stairs, and as he’d been thrown into the suffocating darkness, his cap had been snatched by one of the Delanceys.

One of his hands came to tug at his hair. It brushed against the ceiling, trembling slightly as it grabbed a fistful of mussed brown curls, pulling on them until they slid past his fingers and he was left with yet another dull ache on his head.

I’m such an idiot.

Crutchie had told him, he’d told him not to do it with such desperation painting his face, told him not to step in, but by then, they’d both known it was too late. It had been too late once he’d felt that familiar prickling over his skin and anger had pooled in his stomach in a thick, molten sludge, the kind of anger that words wouldn’t fix, and from there it had been a blur. A blur of bruises. A blur of that shifting and changing, of his hands gripping the fabric of someone’s shirt, pinning them down against his better judgement and hissing at Crutchie to run.

His breaths were growing shaky again. He could hear it with every ragged inhale, and try as he might to fight back the choked, desperate sobs trying to escape his throat, little whimpers pulled from his lips.

How long has it been?

Came the question again. Louder.

How long until they come beat you black and blue?

How long until Les realizes his brother might not be coming home?

How long until Jack—

He sank his teeth into his lip, scarcely realizing that he’d drawn blood until the taste of it made him gag.

Don’t think about Jack.

It was easier said than done. He knew he’d wasted that first day crying out pathetically, begging for a second chance every time he saw shadows block the line of light, asking why they’d done this, asking what gave them the right to lock him in a filthy basement just because he was a freak, and do you know who I am? Do you know who’s on my side? They’ll bust me out of here, you’ll see.

He clung to those words, still. He’d clung to them until his throat was hoarse. He’d clung to them afterward. He’d clung to them as his eyelids had grown heavy and he’d succumbed to sleep’s siren song, halfway convinced he’d wake up to see a certain newsie standing there with fire in his eyes and telling him to get his sorry ass in gear.

And then he’d woken up.

Breathed— more like choked on— the stale air and shivered in the damp cold that had settled in the night under his checkered shirt and dirty vest.

Heard the noise of voices upstairs.

Realized that Jack hadn’t come.

Curled up tight against the sudden urge to sob.

He’d stayed like that until that itching, tingling feeling had made his skin burn and his back brush against the ceiling. He’d stayed like that until the support beams started to creak in indignance at Davey’s increasing size. He’d stayed like that until his legs had gone numb and his fingers were pressed tightly against the heavy door as if he could force it open.

Not that he could. He could barely force his eyes to stay open, and any movement he made only made the ache in his limbs worse.

Stop thinking like that.

Piped a voice that sounded eerily like his own.

Don’t lose hope.

How many times had he told Jack to do that same thing? How many times had he grit his teeth and been the one telling all the other sunken-faced boys to lighten up? He was the only one who hadn’t paid a visit to the refuge’s stone keep, and the other boys had all come out okay. He’d be fine.

Trying to regulate his breathing with the rational thoughts, Davey closed his eyes and furrowed his brow.

It’s been two days, right?

He’d fallen asleep twice.

So this…

This is day three.

A stone settled in his empty stomach.

Three days of waiting for a rescue that isn’t coming.

He was stupid for thinking it. Crutchie must’ve gotten nabbed, that would explain it, though both of the Delanceys had pounced on him once he’d gotten himself back to normal and tried to talk them down, and they’d been occupied with dragging him back to the refuge, which would’ve given Crutchie plenty of time to get him some help—

Help that didn’t come.

A voice in his head hissed.

Help that didn’t come even though you were looking for it and shouting for it at the top of your lungs.

Help that isn’t coming because Crutchie couldn’t be bothered to tell Jack—

Or maybe he did tell Jack, but Jack couldn’t be bothered to—

He didn’t realize he was crying until a hiccup caused him to bump his head against the ceiling and tears made his eyes sting. He didn’t try wiping them away. His hands were both by the door, and they quivered and twitched weakly with every wavering breath he managed to take.

Would you just focus?

If they were here, they wouldn’t know you’re in the cellar, and if they were smart about it, you wouldn’t know they were here until that door opened and—

A creak sounded from the staircase.

Davey’s breath caught in his throat. His whole body stiffened, freezing up without so much as a warning, the constant ringing that had filled his ears for the past three days suddenly disappearing, giving way to another creak from the stairs, followed by some grunting and the scuffing of boots.

Don’t get your hopes up.

It’s probably the Delanceys.

Here to throttle you and toss you out on the streets once you shift back.

His heart was starting to race. The voices were growing less and less muffled by the second, sounding less like nonsensical mumbles and more like—

“Wouldya get your stinkin’ ‘ands offa me? I’s goin’!”

No.

The beating of his heart— that noise that had filled his head— stopped as his heart lurched in his chest. Although his throat hurt and the air was grimy, he couldn’t stop a terrified, strangled noise from escaping his lips.

A name.

“Jack.”

It didn’t sound like him. It sounded raspy. Broken. Desperate. The second after he croaked it out, Davey clamped a hand over his mouth and tried to back away from the door, his heart thrumming louder by the second in his veins.

“Ya happy now?” Came another voice— Oscar— or maybe Morris— “like we said, we’s takin’ you t’yer pet, alright? So stop—“

Jack ignored them. Davey could hear his footsteps increasing in volume, thundering down the rickety stairs with a sudden burst of force. “DAVEY! DAVE, WHAT HAPPENED—“

A thump that sounded more like a shove made Davey suck in a sharp breath through his teeth, his body beginning to quiver as the footsteps grew louder. He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by the noise of another shove.

“Nothin’s ‘append! We haven’t touched ‘im!” promised the other brother— that one was Oscar.

“‘Cept for when we threw ‘im down there,” piped Morris.

“An’ roughed ‘im up on th’ way...” Oscar added, earning a chuckle from his brother.

“OH, and we definitely punched ‘im at least three times.”

More than that.

He had bruises to prove it. His swollen eye had been bad before the tumble down the stairs, and the nasty gash on his cheek hadn’t been from the first, second, or third blow. Pressing one hand to the slit in his skin, Davey tried to ignore the pained noises that were growing more and more audible. Jack’s pained noises.

What did they do to you?

As much as he wanted to cry out, he knew there wasn’t a point. Jack knew he was here, and his voice was so broken and shredded from that first night that he knew it would do far more harm than good. It would just encourage the Delanceys, though Oscar and Morris didn’t seem to need any further encouragement. Davey had practically tuned their mocking voices out. The cacophony of his panicked thoughts and rasping, laboured breaths coupled with his thundering heartbeat made everything sound like it was underwater. Everything except for Jack.

“Get OFFA me!”

“We said we’s takin’ ya to ‘im! Said it twice,” a dull crack of a fist against a jaw punctuated the statement, “so it’s in your best interest ta can it!” Oscar’s voice was dripping with malice. Davey could see it so clearly in his mind’s eye that it hurt, see the two brothers with Jack hanging between them as he was forced down the rickety staircase.

“Bastards,” Jack spat through his teeth, “when I get outta here—”

Shadows crossed in front of the door, and before Jack could finish his sentence, he crashed against the door with a thud. It had to be him.

Swallowing, Davey tried to summon his words despite the fact that his hands were trembling profusely. “J-Jack—” He began, though he was quickly silenced by the sound of a hand connecting with the door, the noise of the locks jingling following shortly after.

“Dave?”

His voice was so close that it hurt.

Davey’s heart lurched. With his body moving without his permission, he found himself with one hand— one massive, monstrous hand that pinned down Oscar like he was nothing, did you think of that, Davey?— inches from the door.

“Jack,” he choked, voice turning desperate, the sudden reality hitting him upside the head with enough force to send him reeling.

The Delanceys are with him, which means this isn’t a rescue.

Choking a little on his own breath, Davey’s tone turned urgent. “You— you shouldn’t be here, you—“

“Aw, gee, Dave, I’m touched,” came a snappy reply, though it was quick to break into a yelp followed by a sharp crack of a body connecting with the door.

“Sheesh, if ya wanted t’see your boyfriend so bad, why’d you fight us the whole way down?” Morris sneered over the rasping, heavy noises of Jack trying desperately to inhale.

Another crack. From the light under the door, Davey couldn’t tell who’d been hit, though the pained moan that followed no less than a second after caused him to draw away from the noise. Had things been different, he knew he would’ve cried out. He could’ve pried the door off its rotting hinges and flung himself into the fray as though it was Les in danger, could’ve tried to reason, could’ve gotten Jack out of the way, could’ve done anything other than cower back further.

Cowering made his ribs feel like they were going to snap, but it didn’t stop him from drawing into himself, numb to everything but his heartbeat pounding through his veins and the shadows slipping under the doorframe, numb until—

With a bang, the door flew open, and before Davey could truly process what had happened, his hands shot forward to catch something that tumbled into the cellar with him. Something warm. Something breathing.

“Jack…” He whimpered, cupping his hands around the battered boy. He couldn’t see much— his vision was covered in spots of purple from the light that was still flooding in, but Jack wasn’t moving. He wasn’t fighting the handling. He wasn’t moving at all, was he even breathing? What if was dead, what if he’s—

“Shit, he’s a big one,” Morris hissed, causing Davey’s gaze to snap upright to the silhouettes of the two thugs standing in the doorframe, “maybe that story ‘bout that Conlon kid ain’t as bullshit as we thought…”

His stomach dropped.

They’ve heard.

Of course they’ve heard.

His discomfort must’ve shown on his face, because Oscar grinned. A wide, toothy, mocking sort of thing, and he spoke with enough malice to make Davey’s blood turn to ice in his veins and draw the limp form of Jack closer to himself. “Hope it’s not. It’ll make this more interestin’ for Kelly…”

Blue eyes widening in a mixture of shock and terror, stomach churning at the implications, Davey opened his mouth to say something— anything, but—

The door snapped shut, dousing the cellar in darkness once more.

The silence left in its wake lasted about three seconds, but three seconds was long enough for Davey’s addled mind to finally snap into the present.

“You—“ he started, looking down at the dark shape of Jack in his palms, the gravity of the situation crashing down on him like a tidal wave, “—you’re joking.”

It wasn’t what he wanted to say, but it was all he could get out.

You’re trapped, too.

Even in the dark and squinting through one eye, he could see the gleam of Jack’s eyes, the reflection of the light filtering in under the door make it look like they were glowing. “This is the part where you say ‘thank you’, Dave.” The other boy huffed, flatly, “but thanks for the sentiment. ‘Preciate it.” Catching his breath, Jack pressed one of his hands heavily against the surface of Davey’s palm and hissed: “now would’ja quit shakin’? You’s rattlin’ my brain around in my head, and if “I’s gonna get us outta here—”

It was then that Davey stopped paying attention. “Where were you?” He hissed, unable to keep his voice from cracking pathetically. His eyes were growing damp, and try as he might to keep from letting his anger boil over, his words were turning to a hiss as he bore down on the other boy in his palms. He was uncomfortably close and he knew it, and normally, he would’ve been able to calm himself down, but he found himself drawing Jack closer to his face to better see him in the low light. “I— I’ve been down here for three days, Jack!”

Jack winced, but before he could even try to respond, Davey plowed forward. He’d been alone in the dark for three days, and try as he might to regulate himself, to keep his calm— those words had had longer to build up in his head.

“I thought you’d just left me here!” He snapped. “I— what, am I just not important to you? Do you even care?”

“Hey, Dave, e-easy—” Jack tried.

Davey barely heard him. His fingers were starting to curl around Jack’s sides, and when Jack tried to shift, their trembling grip tightened, silencing his sputtering. “I didn’t think anyone was coming! I waited, Jack! A-And if I’d tried, I could’ve escaped, b-but I didn’t— I didn’t want to cause a scene, and I thought— I thought you’d come!”

It sounded even more pathetic when he said it out loud. The wobbling of his voice didn’t help anything, either.

Through his teeth, he continued, struggling to keep himself from shouting. “I spent that whole first night thinking that I’d get w-woken up because you were there, but you weren’t, and I thought you’d f-forgotten I was even—”

“We did NOT forget you!” Jack snarled, his ferocity catching Davey off guard enough to make the taller break into a sharp gasp. “So get that outta your head right now, Jacobs!”

His eyes were stinging, his bad vision blurring even further in the dark, leaving him with just vague shapes. He could see Jack— still feel his weight and warmth on his palms— and as he tried to inhale past the knot in his throat—

“Dave, breathe.” Jack ordered.

Davey choked out a bitter laugh, the noise coming out in a garbled, breathy sob. “What’s it—”

Jack’s hand hit the surface of his thumb. “You ain’t breathin if you’s talkin’!” He snapped, and when Davey went to respond—

He was out of breath. When he inhaled, it was raspy and made his throat feel raw. It sounded like a wheeze. “I— I thought you weren’t g-gonna—” He began, stopping to choke down another ragged gasp and use a free hand to swat at his watering eyes. “—I thought you didn’t c-care enough to— t-to—”

Jack gave a small noise of frustration. “I did!” He hissed, “two days ago, we came in through the window!”

Davey’s mouth shut abruptly. Watching as well as he could, fighting back a small sniffle, he could make out the shape of Jack tugging at the hair that had snuck out from beneath his cap. “Two days ago,” he repeated, the anger just beneath the surface of his words alone enough to keep Davey quiet. “It would’a been sooner, I swear it, but Crutch needed help an’ I wasn’t about to leave ‘im alone, and the other boys, once they heard what happened…”

A stone settled in Davey’s stomach when those glimmering eyes flicked away from his own.

“They didn’t want to go alone… did they?” He finished.

Jack didn’t look up. When he nodded, it was slow, as if he didn’t want to be doing it. “They just didn’t wanna find ya like this,” Jack explained, patting the surface of Davey’s palm beneath him for emphasis, “an’ after the whole thing with Spot… just bad timin’.” He explained. He still wouldn’t meet Davey’s eyes. Shifting, coughing slightly to clear his throat, Jack gave a dismissive shrug. “So we waited. Waited for morning, an’ the second the sun was up, you knows what we did?”

This time, it was Davey who looked away. Jack’s eyes looked dark. His teeth were grit, too, and although he was small in Davey’s hand, he certainly wasn’t powerless.

“Jack—”

“We came to get you outta this mess, only you weren’t there! We came in through the window— four o’ us. Specs, Albert, Racer and me, and you wasn’t there! Combed through everythin’ we could find, we did—” He stopped, suddenly enough to make Davey’s brow furrow.

“What?” He prompted, concern lacing his words.

“Found something ya might miss, is all. Just gotta…” Sticking a hand into one of the inner pockets of his vest, Jack pulled a dark item into the light, and before Davey could even ask what it was—

It connected with the side of his head with a soft thump before flopping lifelessly to the floor next to his hand, falling into the light filtering under the door.

My cap.

Turning his eyes to Jack, shifting so his hands were steadier, Davey moved to thank the other boy, but Jack spoke first.

“That’s all we found upstairs,” Jack mumbled, “an’ we took it as a sign that’cha busted out, but then Les said ya hadn’t been home and that you’s folks was worryin’.”

Jack took his own cap in his hands and leaned so his back pressed further against Davey’s fingers, fiddling with the clumsily stitched hem. “We didn’t know what to do. Crutchie felt the worst, I think. Kept on ramblin’ about how it was all his fault, which is some bullshit if I’ve ever heard it. He kept on tryin’ to think of any rooms we could’a missed when he got real quiet and mumbled somethin’ about a cellar.”

Davey swallowed hard. His hands were starting to tremble again, jostling the other boy in his grip. Jack swatted his thumb.

“Hey, I said t’cut that out,” he tried to joke, though it fell flat, leaving an uncomfortable silence in its wake. It was almost quiet enough to hear the rustling of the other boys upstairs— the ones Davey had been dragged past in the darkness— beginning to softly chat. Bedsheets rustled, and if Davey really, really strained to hear it, he could almost hear laughter.

Delanceys must’ve left the room.

Awkwardly shifting, trying to breathe steadily, Davey carefully lowered his hands to the ground. ��Sorry.” He murmured, hollowly, uncurling his fingers from around Jack.

Jack took the hint. With as much swagger as he could muster in the enclosed space, he slid his way out of Davey’s grasp and stood. “S’fine. Ain’t like I’s usin’ these here brains for nothin’, anyway.”

The best Davey could manage was a weak snort. It made his chest ache, Inhaling, opening his mouth to agree, Davey managed to get out the beginnings of a quip before his head started to spin. The world around him blurred together in a mess of dark shapes and colours that didn’t connect, and as he screwed his eyes shut against it, he was made aware of a low, whining sort of groan filling the air.

It was only when Jack’s hand tapped on his cheek that he realized it was pulling from his own throat.

“Shit, Dave, what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” Davey bitterly replied, still stubbornly refusing to open his eyes, “and that’s the problem.”

The noise of Jack inhaling was sharp. Already, he knew the other boy was going to ask for clarification, but before he could even deliver the question—

A muffled growl sounded from his middle, sudden enough to make him flinch and open his eyes, coupled with a hunger pang that made him shudder violently.

Jack stiffened. “Oh.” He mumbled, suddenly making Davey painfully aware of the space between the pair of them. Something in his chest pulled taut.

“Yeah.” He managed to get out. His throat felt tight. His eyes tracked Jack’s movements as the other boy began pacing, an almost predatory precision falling over his face. Subconsciously, he licked his lips. It had been easy to ignore the small twinges from his stomach when he was alone. He could focus on something else. Daydream. Retreat into his head like he always did when things got bad, but Jack’s presence was keeping him locked in the present, bringing to mind thoughts of how easy it would be to—

He swallowed, suddenly aware of the fact that his mouth wasn’t painfully dry anymore.

Jack took his cap in his hands. If he noticed Davey’s sharp gaze, he didn’t show it. “You means that this whole time… they was starvin’… you was starvin’...” He trailed off, blowing out a heavy breath through his teeth. “Shit, Davey, I’s sorry I took so long to come, but I didn’t wanna get caught—” He broke into a harsh laugh, the noise sudden enough to make Davey flinch. “—though I guess that didn’t matter none either, huh? Fuck.”

Jamming his cap on sideways, pacing growing quicker, Jack turned his attention to the door and slammed a fist against it, repeating himself, louder. “Fuck!”

“Language, Kelly,” Davey weakly intoned, earning a halfhearted glare from Jack.

“Whatever.” He hissed, attention flicking back to the door. We’s gettin’ outta here, now.” His hands began to pry at the door, scratching, searching for something to grip onto with a noise that made Davey close his eyes again.

“Can’t.” He rasped, quietly.

The scratching didn’t stop. If anything, it grew more dogged. “Shit, there’s gotta be a loose board or somethin’—”

“Jack.” A little louder this time.

Jack’s hands continued to scrape across the wooden door. “All I need’s a loose board. I’s gotten outta the refuge before, once we’s upstairs, we’s just gonna creep out th’ window an’ then—”

Inhaling sharply, opening his eyes as well as he could manage, Davey set his jaw. “Jack, I can’t.”

The scrabbling stopped as Jack whirled on him. “Why not?” He snapped. “You’s big enough ta be doin’ this part, jus’ get that there door open an’ get yourself back to normal, then we can bust outta this joint!”

An irritated little moan worked its way out of Davey’s throat. Gesturing as well as he could, fingers bumping up against the floor, he lowered his head slightly. “I can’t,” he hissed through his teeth, trying to ignore a small twinge from his gut.

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “The hell ya mean, ya can’t?” He asked, incredulous. “You’s big enough ta scare the shit outta the Delanceys an’ you’s tellin’ me ya can’t—“

“I’ve been down here for three days!” Davey shrilled. Trying to shift his body so he was closer to Jack, he twisted his torso as well as he could despite the fact that he was wedged firmly in place.

“Yeah, you’s said,” Jack snarked back, his volume rising, “so fine. I’ll take th’ door, then you shift back an—“

“Do you have any idea how much energy it takes to shift?” Squaring his shoulders as well as he could while on his hands and knees, Davey lowered himself so his chin practically touched the floor. “I— Jack, I’m running on empty! I’d probably… I dunno, pass out or something, and then I’d never get out. I’m stuck like this!” Bringing one hand up to his head, he jammed it between the ceiling and his hair, curling his fingers in with his scruffy brown locks. Desperation was flickering to life in his eyes. “Even if I could change back, it’d be useless. I can barely even move without everything spinning— I can barely move at all!” He gave a bitter laugh. “Shit.”

Jack gave a weak laugh. “Language, Jacobs.”

Davey rolled his eyes and huffed. Taking a moment to gather his words, he couldn’t help but track Jack’s movements when the other boy began pacing. “I… I read about shifting when I first found out, and it… it takes a lot of power to change. Usually I’d have it all pent up, but now…” He broke into a huff. Raising a hand to shakily run through his hair, Davey exhaled through his teeth. “I’ve got none. A-And some shifters can get stuck, it— it just happens, Jack, we can’t— we panic, and then it kicks in like a defense, and then—”

A hand connected with his own. Had he been more in his right mind, he might’ve yelped in protest, but instead, all he did was stop talking and warily meet Jack’s eyes.

“Geez, you’s really out of it, huh?”

“I’s... it’s fine.”

Jack’s brow furrowed, though Davey barely saw it through a blink that took a little longer than normal. His eyes, however, were focused almost too sharply on Jack’s face.

“No, you’s not fine,” Jack was saying, though Davey barely registered it, “you’s talkin’ like me, that’s— that ain’t a good sign!”

When Jack started pacing again, pacing the small strip of the ground that wasn’t covered by Davey’s quivering shape, Davey felt another small twinge from his belly and a surge of saliva puddling on his tongue.

Don’t.

He swallowed. Shifted his weight.

“Does it matter?” He tried to banter back, squinting through his swollen eye. “Les isn’t here to hear it, so he can’t make… he can’t make fun of me.”

When Jack turned back to face the door, Davey swallowed again, trying to move so the ache in his legs was lessened. Anything to distract him from the newsboy standing in front of him.

“Okay, well, we ain’t stayin’ in here,” Jack grumbled.

Davey inhaled. Already, his mouth was open to speak, but—

“Don’t argue with me, Jacobs.” Jack’s hands were back on the door, nails scratching away at the wooden surface, looking for a lock or loose board that Davey knew wasn’t going to get found. “We’s just gotta think of a plan, s’all. You’s all about that shit, ain’t’cha?”

“Jack. It hurts to think.”

His vision was blurring again. The scene before him looked all smudgy, like when he’s once tried on his father’s glasses.

“How the hell is you alive, then? What, with all that thinkin’ ya do. Ain’t it what fuels ya?” Jack fired back as Davey slumped forward. His chin brushed the ground. If Jack noticed, he didn’t react. “I mean, what, you got all them big ole words in there, like what— ass-piss—“

Davey tried to laugh despite the fact that it made his ribcage feel too tight. “Auspicious?”

It came out almost slurred. He could feel something hot on his lower lip, and as he tried to lift his head and swatted at it—

You’re drooling.

—a gasp caught in his throat. He managed to clap a hand over his mouth before Jack turned his head, his smile a little more guarded. A little more wary. A little more like it had been after a certain incident with a certain Spot Conlon.

“Hey, what’s’a matter with you?”

Davey swallowed numbly. “I— it’s just—“ he tried, lowering his hand just a little, “—I dunno, pick something. I’ve been down here three—“

His stomach growled. Loudly. Loud enough to silence him mid-sentence and make his eyes fix on the floor in silent shame.

The silence was heavy. Too heavy. Heavy enough to make him feel almost queasy as he shakily inhaled. “Sorry.”

Are you?

Are you really sorry?

Another question he didn’t want an answer to.

“It’s fine,” came Jack’s response, and although there was a teasing edge to it, it was less gentle than normal. Harsher. “Just don’t go gettin’ any ideas.”

“Again, head hurts too much for that.” Davey huffed.

“Right, so long as it ain’t makin’ it so ya can’t think clearly, ‘cos I don’t want to end up in a certain spot that a certain Spot has visited, underst—”

“YES,” Davey hissed through his teeth with a voice sharp enough to echo a little in the enclosed space, “Jack, I got it! I— I promise you, that is the last thing on my mind!”

“Then why’s you droolin’?” Jack was getting closer to him, now. Even in the dark, Davey could see the way his shoulders were starting to tense.

“I’m not—” Something wet on Davey’s lower lip made his sureness falter, if only momentarily. He swallowed. Hard. He couldn’t stop himself from salivating, though, and to his horror, it only seemed to be getting worse. His fingers twitched as he raised his hand, clamping it firmly over his mouth. “—shit.” He finished, weakly, his voice coming out in a sharp wheeze. “J-Jack, you know— you know I wouldn’t— n-not to you…” He trailed off almost desperately, the noise of Jack sighing one of the few rising above his own heartbeat throbbing away in his ears.

“Sure.”

It didn’t sound like he believed it. The silence that hung in the room was heavy as could be, though it was quickly broken by another mournful groan from the direction of Davey’s middle and a pang of hunger sharp enough to make Davey screw his eyes shut and give a choked off little whine. He didn’t look at Jack. He didn’t need to— shouldn’t, not with his instincts going absolutely ballistic. Already, he wanted to apologize, though for what was beyond him. It wasn’t his fault, not really, that they were in this absolute mess of a situation. Maybe if he’d fought back, things would be better, but—

Jack interrupted his thoughts. “The boys’ve gone quiet.”

Davey blinked. Wiping his mouth with his hand, disgustedly, he felt his lips tugging into a sharp frown. “What’s that got to do with anything?” He questioned, watching as Jack began to back away from the door.

“Means they’s not alone. Crutch says they never shuts up unless—”

A thump sounded from the stairs.

Davey’s heart sank. What was left of his hope was starting to disappear, and as much as he wanted it to be a familiar face— god, did he ever want to see Race or Romeo, Buttons, Specs, any of the other boys— he knew in his heart that that wasn’t the case. These weren’t footsteps that were trying to be quiet. They were loud, thumping down on the squeaky steps as though they hadn’t a care in the world.

“Five to one, ‘e’s dead.”

“You’re on.”

The Delanceys…

Something in his shoulders tensed at the realization. Their words were making his stomach twist. He could almost guess the reason why the bet was in place, though before he could come to any sort of conclusion, the door swung open, and there the brothers stood.

It was, thankfully, dark, save for the lantern the two carried, but it still stung Davey’s eyes to keep them open enough to see the rest of his dingy surroundings. He found himself squinting against it, already tensing, ready for another fight that he knew he didn’t have the energy for. How could he?

“Damn,” Morris grumbled, “why the hell’s they both still ‘ere?”

Jack bristled. “The hell you mean, why’s we both here? We’s here on account’a you throwin’ us down the—”

“We wasn’t expectin’ shifty over there to be gone, jackass.” Oscar’s words were dripping with a false sort of charm as he leaned down over the step, his eyes sparkling with an awful sort of glee in the lantern’s flickering light. “But durin’ feedin’ time at the zoo? The tigers sure as shit eat up the goats.”

“When’s you ever seen a tiger?”

Davey blanched.

They couldn’t mean…

They can’t mean—

Again, his frantic mind began to draw a conclusion that made him feel sick to his stomach, and again, he was interrupted.

“What’s that mean?” Jack’s voice wasn’t as sure as it normally was. The bravado was starting to waver. Break. Fall away. It left without warning, and as Davey listened, Jack’s tone changed to that of someone more than a little unsure of what the future may hold. “The fuck are you on about?” His shoulders were square. He looked about ready to throw himself at the Delanceys without a moment’s pause, but as he inhaled to speak again, Morris cut in.

“We was told t’get rid’a ya and to be creative,” he announced, somewhat proudly, “so we figured we didn’t need nobody knowin’ about no body gettin’ found an’...” He grinned, pausing for dramatic effect in a way that made Davey’s heart sink. “We figured out exactly how t’do it. Just needed your dumbass boyfriend to get himself caught, then we got ‘im nice an’ starvin’.” He shrugged, clearly disappointed. “Thought you’d be somewhere warmer than a cellar by now.”

Davey's heart was starting to thunder out of control, and when his gaze turned to Jack, he could see the other boy looking at him with a mixture of apprehension and abject terror. “You… ya want Dave to…”

“Get rid of you, once an’ for all.” Oscar finished, somewhat proudly. “Comes with th’ added bonus that he won’t be goin’ back t’see your boys, after what he’s done, so the union fails, too. Win win.”

Nausea washed over Davey. “No! That’s— that’s disgusting!” He sputtered, frankly unable to believe his ears. “I’m not— I’m not an animal, I won’t—“

His stomach growled again. Louder, this time, and Davey came to a stammering halt. Shit, this was bad. Worse than bad, and as Davey tried to force himself back into as small of a ball as he could curl up into, it didn’t sound like it was getting better.

“That’s right, he won’t.”

Jack’s voice caused Davey to look up, only to see him get shoved. Hard. He’d gotten too close to Oscar, and the brother had reacted quickly. “Well, that ain’t an option. If he don’t, we throws you off the Brooklyn bridge in a carpet, an’ we leaves this bastard ‘ere to die.”

“How come I die in both?” Jack sputtered, “what— whaddid I do t’you?”

Davey barely heard him. His thoughts were starting to race, panic churning through his mind at a million miles per hour. He was supposed to be the rational one, for christ’s sake! But his mind was far from a rational place, and the exhaustion clinging to him in a thick shroud didn’t help him in the slightest. It made it so much harder to focus. He kept his eyes trained on Jack as the rate of his breathing quickened to harsh little wheezes that stung his throat. The other boy’s tense stance didn’t help, either.

“I’d say it’s warranted, wouldn’t you, Morris?” Oscar asked, jabbing his brother in the ribs afterward and earning a swat on the shoulder.

“Absolutely. You’s been nothin’ but trouble, Kelly, with all this union bullshit. S’not gonna work, alright?”

“Was workin’ fine,” Jack snapped back, “‘fore you took one of my fuckin’ friends an’ locked ‘im up down here!”

Davey’s heart stuttered.

The union?

“S-Something’s wrong with the—”

“Not the time—” Jack began, though, before he could finish—

Morris jumped off the last stair and shoved him hard in the chest. “Make a choice, smartass,” he hissed, bringing his fist back to strike, “an’ you’s dead either way. Both is just as fun for us.”

Oscar was quick to join his sibling, and despite the fact that Davey was absolutely monstrous compared to them, he found himself shrinking back reflexively. “C-Can’t we just talk this out?” He tried, somewhat desperately. “This is murder! You wouldn’t— you wouldn’t kill us, and when you get found out— th-the other boys, they’ll come for us!

Morris grinned. It was a twisted thing, sharp enough to make something in Davey’s chest tighten. “Think we care? Either we lie about this one snappin’ ya up, or we say it was an accident that’cha fell off the bridge. Nobody’ll find your body, and d’ya really think this one’ll say a fuckin’ word?” He hissed, gesturing to Davey with enough force to make the larger boy flinch.

“Guys, this ain’t funny—”

“You see us laughin’?”

As the pair stalked forward, Jack began to back up, causing Davey to pull even further into the corner despite the pressure it put on his ribcage.

I have to do something.

Anything would’ve been better than watching as Jack stumbled away from the brothers with their hands curled into fists.

“You’s grinnin’ like a hyena!” He sputtered, stepping more and more into Davey’s personal space. He was standing just in front of Davey’s face, and when he looked over his shoulder, his face paled. “And you’s makin’ it worse!”

Davey sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth before he realized that he was drooling again. Shit. His heart was thumping wildly. His hands were starting to tremble, his fingers twitching uncontrollably, and the worst part of it was that his senses were starting to kick into overdrive. He was painfully aware of how close Jack was to him, and it only worsened when Jack’s back brushed against his chin, touching up against the saliva he couldn’t bring himself to wipe away.

“Looks like we’s gonna do this th’ fun way, then,” Oscar crooned, stepping forward with a fist raised. Despite Jack’s fighting stance and glare that Davey knew was fearsome, the thug didn’t stop advancing, Morris cracking his knuckles a step behind him. Jack couldn’t take them both. It was only when Oscar moved to swing that Davey suddenly sprung to life.

Without thinking, he closed his hand around Jack and yanked the other boy close to himself, guarding him fiercely. “You’re not going to touch him!” He snarled, his voice losing its wobble as though he was back on one of the discarded boxes out in Newsie Square, rallying the other boys. Inhaling, ignoring the surge of the world spinning around him, he tried to speak, but—

His stomach gurgled.

He bit his lip, not finishing the rest of his statement.

The silence that followed left him painfully aware of the fact that his heart was beating out of his chest. He could feel Jack in his hand beginning to try moving, and although it made him feel physically sick, he tightened his grip on Jack. All eyes were on him. His lungs felt too small as he hastily choked down another breath. “I-I’ll…” He swallowed, pretending not to notice the way Jack tensed at the noise.

I don’t want to.

“I’ll do it.”

He was vaguely aware of Jack making a strangled, choked little noise as he adjusted his fingers and shifted his weight, his eyes growing damp. It looked almost like they were glittering in the low light. There was something of a haze falling across his vision, and although he could blame it on the wetness of his eyes, he knew there was something more to it. It was familiar. Something he knew. Something that had fallen over him once in Brooklyn, and now here in the cellar as dust clogged his nostrils.

Jack’s voice was shaking almost as badly as he was. “D-Davey— you— you ain’t gonna— you’s— you’s not—”

Davey tightened his grip further. Before he could talk himself out of it, he lifted the other boy off the ground with a jerk of his wrist, earning a sharp gasp.

“Dave, hey, this ain’t— this ain’t funny—” Jack started to protest, though he was cut off by Davey tightening his grip. “—ey— ey— sn-snap outta it, you can’t— you’s not gonna—” There was poorly disguised panic flashing across Jack’s face as he squirmed a little in Davey’s careful hold, looking up at his captor somewhat confusedly. Although he gave a little laugh, it was riddled with anxiety. “—you’s not gonna…”

Davey’s lips curled back in a grimace. Although he wanted nothing more than to explain, his words were sticking in his throat along with his breaths that weren’t coming quite right. Looking at Jack was only making it worse, and as Davey forced himself to look down to the Delanceys, he found his grip on the newsie tightening.

Look scary.

It wasn’t as though he needed to try; he was huge. Still, he inhaled and tried his best to hide his shaking by clinging to Jack tighter. It was met with a wheeze.

“D-Davey, David— we—”

Davey’s stomach growled.

Jack blanched.

“Shit, Davey, ya can’t just— ain’t we friends? You said— ya— ya PROMISED!”

It was killing him to keep his face expressionless. Davey clamped his teeth down hard on the inside of his cheek as he lifted Jack closer to himself, completely tuning out Jack’s struggles. He had to work to keep his hands from trembling any more than they were as he swallowed back the apologies threatening to spill from him.

I’m sorry.

I’m so sorry.

Forcing himself to tighten his grip, to shift Jack closer still to his mouth, Davey puffed himself up. “I’ll eat him,” he hissed through his teeth that were only grit to keep his lip from quivering any more than it already was. It came out in a near growl.

The two brothers looked ready to bolt.

C’mon…

Davey silently willed them as he shifted his grip on Jack yet again, trying to keep the other boy from hyperventilating or panicking too badly. It wasn’t working. Jack’s breathing had turned to rasping barks, and although he was silent, Davey knew that wasn’t any better. When Jack was quiet, it meant he was out of words. Out of smart-mouthed remarks. Out of curses. Out of words spat through his teeth. The only thing Jack had left now was panic.

Davey’s thoughts were spiralling.

If they go, I don’t have to…

I don’t have to…

He bared his teeth, trying his best to look like the monster they thought he was and bristled, and although Oscar stumbled…

Morris squared his shoulders. As much as there was fear in his eyes, there was also defiance as he raised his chin in Davey’s direction and snarled out two words in a wobble of a voice. “Prove it,” he hissed, stepping forward on wobbling legs.

A halfhearted smack to Davey’s fingers caused his attention to shift down the the young man in his grasp. “Davey— c’mon—“ Jack pleaded, though he was cut off by Davey bringing him a good foot off the floor in his quivering hand. He was running out of space between his hand and the ceiling. Jack was inches from him, now, every one of Davey’s panicked breaths causing his hair to ruffle on his head and his cap to tip back.

I’m sorry.

His heart was beating so fast it sounded like a constant, thundering drone, and as he looked to jack with a helpless, terrified expression finally piercing through his mask—

“I knew it,” came Oscar’s wobbling voice, “he ain’t gonna do it, ya owe me five, an’ we’s gotta find a way t’get rid of them—“

“I said I was gonna do it!” The force of his own words surprised him, and moments after Davey said it, he felt his stomach lurch dangerously.

“Yeah?” Morris tried, “well, you’s all talk—“

He was cut off by Davey opening his mouth. Wide. As wide as it would go, actually, which normally wouldn’t be much to think about, but now, Davey was all too aware of the implications.

Moving quickly, not thinking too hard about what he was doing, trying to block out the strangled cry that escaped Jack’s throat when he shifted his grip, Davey pinned the other boy’s arms to his sides with his fingers as well as he could manage and lifted him closer to his gaping maw.

Jack was trembling. “Davey,” he hissed through his teeth, giving his legs an experimental kick despite the fact that Davey was keeping him from moving too much, “Dave, I get that you’s bluffin’, but now’s a good time t’stop— sh-shut yer trap an’ put me down before—”

Davey moved him closer. Close enough that he could practically taste him already.

“—N-No, Davey— Davey, don’t, I know you ain’t gonna— you’s not—” His words were coming faster, now, and his struggling was getting harder, hard enough that it was making him almost hard to grasp. “—no, n-no! You’s not— you CAN’T!”

Davey forced himself to meet Jack’s eyes.

That was a mistake. The betrayal shining in them was impossible to miss— there in the fact that they seemed watery and in his knit brow— but beneath it was fear. Genuine terror— terror he’d never seen on the fact of Jack Kelly, and terror he never wanted to see again. Jack was as stiff as a board in his grip, and as he looked down on Jack, Davey couldn’t stop himself from closing his mouth.

The relief that washed over Jack was painfully visible. He looked like he’d deflated in Davey’s grip, and with a breathy laugh, he leaned his head against Davey’s skin. “Geez, Dave, ya really had me goin’—“ he managed to say despite the fact that his voice was wobbling. “—really— really thought you was gonna—“

Davey moved before Jack could finish. In one smooth motion, he opened his mouth, screwed his eyes shut, and stuffed Jack in headfirst. His teeth clipped up against Jack’s waist, and as he jerked his head back and swallowed heavily, a noise that sounded almost inhuman sounded from the confines of his maw.

“NO! DAVEY— DAVE—”

Jack’s legs— hanging past his lips— flailed wildly, smacking up against his chin with a surprising amount of force. Davey swore he could taste blood. Blood and something else. Something human. Something dirty, sure, but also something that tasted panicked.

The struggles grew more frantic, and as Davey struggled to inhale, he was made aware of one thing.

It hurt.

Jerking his head back, trying to pull the rest of Jack’s thrashing body into his mouth, trying to remain deaf to the muffled pleading and cursing, trying to do anything other than spit Jack out like he wanted so badly to do, Davey gave a short, sharp swallow and snapped his mouth shut. It didn’t do much, but it earned him a terrified shout and the feeling of something connecting with the back of his throat, prompting him to swallow again.

“DAVEY— DAVEY— SPIT ME OUT, C’MON!”

The voice was so desperate, so awful sounding that Davey could barely place it as Jack’s.

Jack scrambled to get a grip on the surface of Davey’s tongue, and when Davey tried to pin the scrambling newsie to the roof of his mouth, he felt the sharp pain of Jack’s fingernails digging deeper into the flesh around him. He was fighting hard. With every painful second that passed, Davey was made painfully aware of Jack’s terrified state through kicks and slams to the inside of his mouth that made him lock his jaw tighter.

“YA PROMISED!”

Came a muffled cry.

“YA PROMISED YA WOULDN’T—”

Another harsh gulp sounded, and this time, the pain was enough to make Davey gasp and bring a hand up to his throat. He regretted the action as soon as he made it.

He could feel every little struggle and kick from Jack under his fingers, and when he swallowed again, harder, he could feel that, too, the contraction of muscle that forced Jack past his collarbone and out of sight. His chest felt tight. His heart was beating so fast he felt that it might pop, and as he struggled to catch his breath, his eyes burning from tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks, he could feel Jack’s struggles falling lower and lower, slipping into his chest.

Jack’s cries were muffled completely, now. The squirming had grown minimal as he was forced further and further into Davey’s inner workings, though he was certain that it wasn’t because he’d wanted to slow down. Swallowing again, resisting the urge to gag, Davey screwed his eyes shut and pressed a hand flat against his stomach, trying his best to ignore the sensation of Jack squirming down the length of his esophagus. His breaths were coming sharply despite his attempts to act like he didn’t care— like it didn’t matter.

You’ve done this before.

You’ve done this TWICE.

But it hadn’t been Jack.

His whole body jolted when Jack made the final drop into his empty stomach, jolted to a point where he slammed his head against the ceiling and made the support beam give a sharp crack. Dust rained down on his head. And in the midst of it all— in his raging panic— Davey kept his face as blank as he could manage.

I just—

Did I really just—

A kick from his stomach confirmed it, coupled with the weight of something shifting under his skin, moving to fight and claw and kick and—

“Holy shit, he— you’s— you really—”

The Delanceys—

Davey’s eyes shot back open, falling to the brothers before him—

Where did they—

—who were standing on the stairs, gawking.

The second his eyes fell onto them, they both stumbled back a step. Oscar had his fists at the ready, and although Morris also looked ready to spring into action, his eyes kept darting between Davey and his middle. He looked pale, like he’d seen a ghost, and he only grew paler when Davey bared his teeth. When he spoke, his voice was dangerously soft— as if he was telling off a child. “Get out,” he stated, calmly, calmly despite the fact that his heart was beating in his throat, “or you’re next.”

His hands were shaking. Twitching. Sweat was beading on his forehead, and as he glowered down at the Delanceys with his jaw set, he squared his shoulders. One of his hands twitched.

The door slammed shut faster than he could react to, plunging him into complete and absolute darkness once more with a sharp bang.

For a moment, he was still. Completely and utterly still. The noise of footsteps thundering back up the stairs was the only sound that he could hear, and when he finally dared exhale—

A sharp jab from under his skin made him gasp.

“J-Jack—” He started, though he was cut short by another hit to his insides that made him clap a hand over where the internal pressure had come from, pressing down hard enough to feel the shape of Jack starting to throw his weight around.

“SPIT ME THE HELL UP, WHY DON’TCHA!?”

The fighting only got harder when he shouted. He put his whole body into it, pitching to a point where Davey had to bite back a gag. His stomach turned dangerously, and as he tried to catch his breath, tried not to focus on the lingering taste in his mouth, the thrashing only grew more violent.

“Jack, I—” His explanations turned to a whimper at a sharp jab to where his hand was pressed.

“STUFF IT!” Jack roared. Although his voice was heavily muffled, Davey could still more than make out the anger it held. “You— I can’t believe you just— you ATE ME! You picked me up and ya just— ya just—

“I’m aware of that,” he managed to huff out, “and I’m sorry, alright? B-But would you just—”

Jack wasn’t listening. The kicking and scratching got worse. Davey choked on a breath as Jack slammed his weight against his hand.

“—ya fuckin’— what, is that all this was to you, then? Was I just— is this all I am? Just— Just a light snack t’ya, ya hungry bastard? How long have you been wanting this? How— How long have you—”

“I didn’t want to—” He started to protest, though Jack kicked him hard enough to pull a gasp from his throat.

“DID I SAY YOU COULD SPEAK?” Jack snarled. “‘COS I SURE AS HELL DON’T THINK I DID! YA GOT SOME NERVE, JACOBS!” He stopped to breathe, and although Davey could barely hear it, he could see it so perfectly in his mind’s eye as Jack heaved and struggled to form words. He kept interrupting his sentences with gulps of air and other jabs to the flesh around him. “Can’t— can’t believe ya just went an’—”

He broke into a yelp as Davey shifted his weight.

I was SO STUPID for trustin’ you— after that stunt with Spot, I thought— Crutch said ya ain’t a monster—”

“Jack, listen—”

“—He said t’give ya a chance! Said ya didn’t mean it, but I guess that was stupid’a me ta believe—”

“Please— J-Jack, c’mon, you— you’re fine—”

When Jack’s voice met his ears, it was past the point of shrill, coming out in a muffled scream. “YOU FUCKING ATE ME, DAVEY!” It was followed by a barrage of kicks and jabs to his stomach lining that left him clutching tighter to his middle.

“I— I’m aware of that,” Davey whimpered, struggling to keep his tone even, “now can we move past it and focus on—”

“The hell do you mean, ‘move past it’?”

With every muffled curse and thrashing, jerky movement, he felt hot bile rising in the back of his throat and forced himself to gulp it back. At least he was feeling less groggy. He was wide awake, now. His hand trembled as he pressed it harder against where Jack was kicking him, trying to bring the other boy’s struggles to a stop.

“You just WAIT, Dave! Wait ‘til the other boys hear about this, they’s gonna—”

Something in him snapped.

Slamming one hand down on the cellar floor, Davey jabbed at Jack’s shape angrily. “The other boys AREN’T going to hear about this,” he hissed, “because YOU’RE not going to TELL THEM!”

The silence that fell upon the room afterward was enough to make Davey aware of the fact that he was panting heavily. His heart was thrumming away in his ears, and as he swallowed back a little gasp, he slumped defeatedly against the nearest wall of the cellar. His vision was swimming. The exertion had cost him. Woozy, keeping his hand over Jack, he let his eyes slip shut just for a moment.

And then the implications of his words hit him.

Oh… that’s… that’s why he’s gone quiet...

Eyes opening despite the fact that it didn’t change much, Davey sank his teeth into his lip and winced. “...Jackie?” He tried, his voice coming out wobbly.

Jack was trembling, now. He could feel it against his stomach lining, and with every little twitch from the other newsie, he felt his heart sink. “J-Jack, I didn’t mean—” He started, though he was interrupted by a bitter sounding snarl.

“Save it for someone who cares.” Jack snapped, his voice, though muffled, more than conveying his betrayed feelings. “I thought— damn it, Dave, I thought we was friends—”

“We are!” Davey protested. “I— I’m not gonna— why would I hurt you?”

“I’ll tell ya when I figure it out!” Jack snarled, though there was a quiver in it that Davey couldn’t ignore. The next hit to his innards was weaker, though still pointed and hard enough to make him wince. “I can’t believe you’s… so this is it, huh?” The bitter laugh that followed it made Davey’s heart twist. He kept quiet, though. “This is just… this is all any of it meant, huh? I— we’s— just like that, huh? I knew— I knew that thing wit’ Spot was just the beginnin’ of all this! I knew ya was just gonna snap an’—”

“You— Jack— hold on a second!” Davey’s tone was turning sharper. He couldn’t help it— the nausea was making his head spin. “You’re not going to die in there, okay? N-Nobody has, a-and nobody will, s-so would you stop kicking me and LISTEN?”

He hadn’t meant to shout. Gasping for air, the adrenaline fading into more of a shocked feeling that left his eyelids heavy, Davey worked to keep his breathing even.

Another impact to his stomach lining made him grit his teeth and inhale sharply, though… another hit didn’t come.

“I’s listenin’,” came a small voice.

Davey winced. A soft gurgle from his middle sounded as he tried to adjust his weight, keeping his hand over Jack despite the jab it earned him. “Right,” he breathed, “okay, look, I know it seems bad, but I promise, it’s completely safe!”

Jack gave a harsh laugh. “It seems bad?” He sputtered, weakly, his accent seemingly a little thicker than before. “Dave, ya— you jus—”

“Can we not dwell on it?” The pressure of his hand over Jack intensified. “Jack, I— I’m sorry, and you can be mad at me later, b-but I need you to stay there, okay?” He prodded Jack’s shape on the word “there” for emphasis, earning himself a sharp noise of protest.

“Like hell I’s stayin’ in here! You’se made a BIG mistake, once I— once I gets outta here, I’s gonna—”

Davey’s heart sank.

He’s not getting it.

Struggling to keep his tone even, Davey gnawed on the inside of his cheek. “You aren’t getting out of there until I let you out,” he stated, matter-of-factly. Already, he was feeling less tired than before— though he knew that Jack was having the exact opposite experience. It was a part of his anatomy— shifters could draw energy from pretty much anything, and Jack Kelly was no exception, if the pleased little gurgles resonating from the direction of his stomach were anything to go by.

“That…” Jack trailed off, and Davey could feel him struggling again, though the movements were sluggish. “That sounds like a th-threat,” he pointed out. “Why— Why’s I so damned… t-tired, why’s I—”

It was happening faster than it should’ve. Maybe it was the starvation kicking in, but as Davey began to sap Jack’s energy at a ridiculous rate, he could feel the other boy growing groggier. It was all too obvious that Jack was tiring himself out. The kicks and punches were growing clumsy.

“—Dave, what— what the hell?”

“I promise, you’re going to be fine,” Davey tried to reassure, though it came out a little strained. His stomach hurt. Jack had done a number to the lining there, that was certain. “Just… don’t panic all that bad, alright? I’ll get you out, just… give me a minute.”

Jack’s nails dug into the muscle surrounding him, the pressure enough to make Davey flinch and bite down hard on his lip. “Why don’t you sound sure of that?”

“What?”

The pressure on his stomach lining ceased, though another sharp kick to his innards made him give a small whimper. This wasn’t going well. This wasn’t going the way he’d wanted it to at all. Why couldn’t there have been a proper rescue?

Guilt painted across his face, Davey kept his hand over Jack as the other boy struggled to find his voice.

“Like you’se just—” Jack started, though he slumped further against the nearest wall with a groan. “—shit, why’s— m-my head—”

“I’m just taking energy—” Davey tried to explain, though he was cut short by a muffled, panicked wail of:

“You’se digestin’ me? S’that it?”

A groan of discomfort and frustration escaped his throat at the sensations of Jack trying to right himself— the scrabbling of hands against his stomach walls enough to make him gag. Jack wasn’t exactly a lanky guy, but Davey was hyper aware of the space he took up under his skin. “I— No! Jack, that’s— that’s disgusting, I— I wasn’t lying when I said you were safe, just trust me, okay?”

Jack’s accent was thicker than ever. The struggling had stopped— and although it was a momentary relief, Davey felt a stab of guilt pierce his chest at the next set of words.

“Why would I trust… someone like you?”

And with that, Jack went completely limp, leaving Davey in silence, save for the gurgling of his stomach and the sharp, laboured noise of his breathing.

Shit.

#David jacobs #davey jacobs #jack kelly #newsies #javid #g/t vore #sizeshifter!davey #angst fic #soft vore #safe vore #fearplay vore #fearplay #sizeshifter #i'd apologize but i'm not sorry #part 2 coming soon #promise!#gotta get some good ol' jack kelly pov

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ladyshandioftheendless · 4 years

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Shandi’s Writer’s Month Prompts!

Day 10: Bunnies

Requested by @tanookiroxx (also thanks for the story idea! THIS GON’ B GUD~ >3)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Take good care of my little Snowball, Nikki~”

“Don’t worry, Princess I got this~”

StarChild smiled and kissed Nikki’s cheek. “You’re an absolute sweetheart~ I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can but..I just know the Council is going to talk my ears off..” he sighed heavily and leaned his forehead against the door. He suddenly squeaked when he felt a hand squeeze his ass. “You get through this, baby..and I’ll give you a good time when you come back~”

“Mmm..you got a deal~” He kissed Nikki one last time before leaving. Nikki sighed and opened Snowball’s cage to let her out. “Looks like it’s just you, me..” he held up two bottles of liquor. “..and Jack Daniels tonight, little girl.”

Two bottles eventually turned into three. Then four. StarChild had been gone for hours and all Nikki could do to stave off his boredom was drink. Snowball was back in her cage fast asleep and nice and full from being fed. There was no need to worry about her. Which was good because he was drunk. He stumbled over to StarChild’s bed and fell onto it. Maybe..his Princess would be back by the time he woke up...

~*~

“Nik! Nik! Wake up!”

“Huh..? Tommy..?”

“C’mon! You don’t wanna miss dinner do ya?”

“Dinner..?” Nikki woke up and rubbed his head. Damn, his head was killing him. Three bottles of Jack was definitely his limit. His stomach growled loudly. “Fuck..guess I am hungry..” He stood up and brushed the leaves out of his tail.

Wait WHAT?

LEAVES?

TAIL?!

“What the fuck?!” He looked around. What was he doing in a forest? And why did he have a wolf’s tail?! When he spotted Tommy he gaped. He had a wolf tail too! And ears! What the ever-loving fuck?! “The hell’s goin’ on, Tommy?! Why do you look like that?!” Tommy looked back at him with a weird expression. “What’re you talkin’ about, Nik? This is how I’ve always looked. Did you drink too much again and pass out?” Nikki rubbed his head again, flinching at his own wolf ears. “Y-yeah..guess so..”

“Then you need to get off your ass, my man! Or do you wanna miss gettin’ a good piece of tail~?” Nikki’s ears perked right up and he laughed. “Yeah, didn’t think so~ C’mon!” Speechless, Nikki followed hos fellow ‘wolf’ deeper onto the forest.

As they approached a clearing they heard giggling. Tommy grinned, showing off all of his sharp teeth. “We’re here, Nik..take a look~” With a raised eyebrow, Nikki peeked through the trees that surrounded the clearing. He couldn’t believe what the hell he was seeing. People. Really pretty people dressed up in sexy bunny costumes. Ears. Tails. Skimpy suits. Fishnets. Bow ties. The whole nine yards.

WHAT THE FUCK

He was definitely dreaming..cause this was too fucking crazy to be real. Tommy nudged him. “Like what you’re seein’ huh? Yeah, me too~ They’re gonna make a good meal for us tonight~” Truth be told, it wasn’t food Nikki was thinking about when he caught sight of one particular bunny. Dressed in purple with platform heels. Long silky black ears sticking out of a head of dark curly hair. That looked..very familiar. The bunny turned and Nikki’s jaw dropped. “Princess...?”

“See one you like~?”

“Yeah..I sure do~” How could he resist a hot little bunny that looked exactly like his Princess? He licked his lips as his tail swished back and forth.” “I’m gonna mount that purple one~”

“Gonna wha?”

“You heard me~”

“Ohhhh I getcha~ Go get ‘im, Nik!!”

With a wolfish smirk Nikki disappeared into the brush. He circled the lake slowly and silently, his eyes focused on nothing but the beautiful purple bunny. His patience shortened by the second due to his pants becoming incredibly uncomfortable. He growled as he readied himself to pounce. “You’re mine, little bunny~” He jumped out and tackled the purple bunny to the ground. “GOTCHA!!” When the bunny screamed he was admittedly a little freaked out. He even sounded the same as Princess! “Wolf!! Wolf!!” the bunny shouted, causing all of the other bunnies to scatter. Tommy cursed and ran after one. A blond one dressed in pink. Was that..Vince..? Whatever. Didn’t matter. He had how own bunny to focus on. This was so fucking weird. It was Princess..but it wasn’t. Princess wouldn’t look at him with such fear in his eyes. “Relax, little bunny..I’m not gonna eat ya~”

“Y-you’re not..?”

“Nah..I’m just gonna mount you and make you mine~”

“Ohhh..please, Mr. Wolf..I’ll do whatever you want if you let me go..”

Nikki almost laughed. This was like some freaky roleplay. He could get into this~ “After I’m done with you..you won’t want me to~”

“Nikki?”

“Mmmph..don’t bother me I’m busy.”

“I have to, Nikki..because it’s time to wake up.”

“Wha..? How d’you know my--”

~*~

Nikki bolted up, almost smacking his head against StarChild’s. “W-what the hell?! Where am I?!”

“Relax, Nikki!” StarChild moved close and rubbed his back. “You’re in my room. You fell asleep. I’m sorry I woke you up like that but it looked like you were having a dream.”

“Oh..” It’s true. He was. And what a dream. He turned to look at StarChild, part of him expecting to see bunny ears. “..yeah..guess I was..”

“It wasn’t bad was it? What was it about?”

Nikki chuckled and shook his head. “Princess..you wouldn’t believe me if I told ya~ But..it gave an idea for the next time we get together~”

~END~

#Shandi's Writing Month!#Shandi's KISSteriaverse #~StarTerror~

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ranger-jedi-knight · 5 years

Text

A New Hero Ch 11

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887313/chapters/55650205 Tag List: @vixen-uchiha

I’ve done a bad. I’ve been forgettin to put TWEETS AT THE END OF THE CHAPS!! IM SO SORRY!! I’LL FIX IT BY STARTIN IT BACK UP!!! As you’ll see, I’m givin Gotham some love. It just seemed right to do it. Ok, so there’s goin to be a delay as my laptops charger port(n possibly also the cable cause fuck me apparently) failed finally where it won’t be seen let alone charge. So ya, I gotta use my phone for the majority of things(but on the lucky days that I can get my laptop to work yay! But ya), so sorry bout the delays. Here it is!

The batbois could only sigh as they swung around Gotham at night patrolling. The night was tough. They’ve each dealt with three muggings, a few robberies, drug bust each and Red Hood, Batman, and Robin all dealt with Penguin trying to rob the museum. Then Nightwing and Red Robin both talked about stopping potential rapists. So they were pretty tired after the fairly active night.

Don’t get them wrong, they know they’re lucky since this was one of the quieter nights in Gotham. They’ve faced worse nights. They’re all just glad that their patrol was almost done. Red Hood glared at the street as he watched two guys following a girl. He tapped Robin’s shoulder and the two started after the three.

Lana was absolutely tired. It was late. She should have been home hours ago sleeping. But no. She had to stay behind at school, then moved to a 24-hour cafe a few miles from the college(and her apartment a block from the college), for a group project and her group kept getting backtracked. She heard two people following her and took her phone out and raised it a bit to look behind her. It was two men in dark clothing with the hoods up. Her screen lit up showing the time. 1:32 AM.

She could only sigh at the reminder. She tugged her messenger bag’s strap up her shoulder as she walked. She soon stopped under a lamp, rolling her neck as she waited for the two men to reach her. She might as well deal with them so they didn’t follow her home. Her friends Bee and Cahaya were there waiting to do a sleepover, something she promised a week ago. They were saints for being ok to wait for her even though she told them it would take a while to finish the project. So ya, she didn’t want to risk them to the two perverts.

One man put his hand on her shoulder and started turning her while the other pulled out a knife to point at her. As he turned her to face them, she pulled her bag off her shoulder and swung it hard at the two. It hit the two men in the head and they stumbled back or to the side shocked. She then kicked the knife out of the shocked man’s hand and pulled the pen out from its place in her hair. The one that held the knife reacted first and she threw the pen as hard as she could and it caught his sweatshirt and pinned him to the telephone pole behind them.

The first man growled while the other one looked absolutely shocked at what she did. The first man then charged at her and she sidestepped him while grabbing his arm. As he went past her, she stepped behind him and twisted his arm up so that his hand was against the opposite shoulder blade. Lana grunted as she raised her right foot and kicked the small of his back, sending the man stumbling down onto his knees. She turned to the other one who threw the pen onto the ground.

She smirked as she pulled her fist back and punched the man hard in the nose. As the man fell against the phone pole clutching his nose, she rammed her elbow into his head dazing him. The first man wrapped his arms around her and picked her up. Her feet kicked out before he leaned over and her feet touched the ground once more. She threw her head back, hitting his nose, then rammed her elbow into his stomach and broke from his grip and kicked him hard in the crotch. He fell to his knees gripping there before glaring at her.

Jason was shocked. He and Damian had been staring as the girl, now identified as Lana Grayson, beat up her stalkers. When the man she kicked started getting up, they jumped down behind the guy and quickly take him down. While Robin tied up the two, he went over to Lana as she sagged a bit with a yawn. “Are you alright miss? That was quite the takedown you did before we came,” he said and Lana nodded and covered her mouth with her hand as another yawn left her.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” she mumbled out as she put her bag onto her shoulder once more. Red Hood nodded at the info.

“How come you’re out this late miss? You know it’s dangerous,” he asked this time and she just groaned.

“Classmates. We-*yawn*-had-have a group project for-*yawn*-class. Just...just finished it,” she answered rubbing her eyes. Now that the threat of being raped was gone, her tiredness came back full force. Thou she wished it waited until she was safe and sound in her dorm/apartment. Red Hood smiled as he watched Lana respond throu yawns, thou she couldn’t see it.

“Where’s your place?”

“Over-*yawn*-there,” she pointed to a complex still a mile away near the college and he nodded.

“I’ll escort you the rest of the way, miss. You look like you could fall asleep at any minute,” he offered and she nodded at that.

“Thank you-*yawn*-Hood,” she said before walking toward her place. Robin nodded and told the others what was happening, well giving better details that is since they did hear his voice just not the other persons, while Red Hood walked with her.

“Ok, understood. See you two back at the cave,” Nightwing said and the others grunted their responses. Red Hood stood in front of Lana’s building as she stood in front of the door opening it.

“Stay safe alright, miss?” he called and she gave a nod and smile before entering the building with a yawn. He stayed there until he lost sight of her entering the elevator and went back to Robin who had the two men tied to the light pole.

“Ready, Hood?” Robin asked and Red Hood nodded. The two then continued on and head back to the cave to meet with the others.

~~~~~~~~~~~~(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So Jay-bird, you ran into and helped Lana. Hmm?” Dick asked teasingly as they ate breakfast. Jason glared at Dick while Damian smirked to the side.

“Fuck off. All I did was make sure she got home safely after taking out her potential rapists. Damian helped with it,” Jason grumbled eating his breakfast.

“No need to get embarrassed, Jay-bird,” Dick said and Jason leveled a glare at him which had Dick’s smile lessening a bit.

“What’s to be embarrassed about, I helped her out as Red Hood, my job. But the thing we should be embarrassed about is how long it’s taking you and Babs to get married,” he retorted and Dick frowned with a blush, looking away. Tim and Steph snorted in response to that.

“Did you hear the news Damian? Mari’s class won the contest WE hosted,” Tim said and Damian smiled.

“Yes, I did. Mari called me to tell me the good news. For your information also, Mari asked for me to come to Paris for a few days to help finish a project they started last year,” Damian replied and his brothers nodded at that.

“Ah yes, the movie,” Jason responded and Damian nodded. “How are you helping them finish it?”

“Mari and her friends figured a good end would be for a person the main antagonist lied about showed up and exposed her,” he explained and his brothers nodded understanding. “Though, she also said she had a surprise.”

“A surprise?” Dick asked and Damian nodded.

“Yes, a surprise. She wouldn’t say who it’s for. Just that since I’ll be visiting it’d be hard to hide so she’s going to tell me. But I won’t be able to tell anyone else about it,” he explained taking his plate to the sink to clean it.

“Hope it’s a good surprise for the person,” Tim muttered.

“I’m sure it will be. This is Mari we’re talking about,” Damian countered which had the others nodding. “Now, I’ll be off, Ember and Jon said they have a surprise for me and I wish to get it over with as soon as possible.”

“Alright, brat. Have fun and don’t hurt them too much if you hate the surprise,” Jason teased out. “You know father hid the kryptonite. So Jon is safe until I locate it.”

“Well, Clark appreciates him hiding it,” Steph said and like that Clark came down into the kitchen smiling.

“I do appreciate it. And Damian, I know what the surprise is, I have a feeling you’ll really like it,” Clark said and Damian nodded to him before leaving the room to find his friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jon @supersonsfriends

Looks like the surprise went well!! Welcome back, Rae!! #yess #thatwasnervewracking #sogladitwentwell #oldmentor *Damian hugging a dark skinned woman with her dark brown hair pulled into a braid, a rose hairpin holding her bangs back, a pink nose ring on the right side of her nose along with a lip piercing. Rea held him just as tightly. Jon and Ember(pale skinned with brown hair pulled into a bun, a scar over her right eye(gray eyes)) smiling at the camera while looking back slightly at the three*

Dick smiled at his phone and Alya smiled herself as she looked over his shoulder at that. “How sweet. Knew em back before moving in with Bruce?” she asked and he nodded.

“Ya, they were close. He didn’t know what happened to them when he came to Bruce. I’m glad they’re reunited,” Dick answered and Alya nodded agreement as she started working on the case they were assigned.

“I’ll be honest. I’m not sure how this case will end,” Alya said after a bit and Dick had to nod his agreement.

“Yeah. Cahaya’s attacker is slippery. Even with B’s help, I’m not sure if we’ll be able to do this,” Dick whispered looking around as he watched their supervisor Mr. Lingo work at his desk. The man was questionable, he seemed like the perfect fit for Liam Gravesworth, Cahaya’s attacker, to bribe into looking the other way and destroying evidence. Heaven knows he keeps trying to butt into their investigation and break their trust with Cahaya. The poor girl was so scared to tell Alya about the attack even though it’s been years. It took Lana and Bee’s reassurance for her to go forward to them.

They can’t blame her though. Liam was a businessman. Rich, slimy, and was able to buy basically everyone’s loyalty. Even Cahaya’s businessman friends had trouble finding any evidence. Even with Tim helping, they mostly only could find destroyed evidence. Tapes erased from the time and place it happened. Money trails carefully covered up. “Let’s talk elsewhere,” Alya mumbled out and Dick nodded agreement.

“Alright, come on,” Dick replied and the two left the precinct. Their coworkers were speaking Spanish to each other or mumbling it. Mr. Lingo apparently was obsessed with everyone speaking Spanish fluently and didn’t like it if someone had been ignoring the app. It was freaky for them. At least Gordon was looking into it himself. Once they had proof, Lingo would be gone.

They just needed proof that Gravesworth was bribing him.

But who knows how long that’ll take to get.

They sat down at a cafe nearby and Alya rested her chin on her interlaced fingers. “We may need to get someone on the inside,” she said and Dick nodded agreement.

“But who could do it. We need someone who isn’t well known. Do you know anyone that could do it?” Dick asked and Alya hummed in thought.

“Perhaps my boyfriend can help. He hasn’t met Cahaya yet so there’s a chance he could work well as a spy,” Alya said slowly and Dick nodded at that.

“He did a business degree correct?”

“Yes. He did a theatre and business, double major,” Alya said nodding and Dick nodded agreement.

“He could work. Contact him and ask. Once you know if he’s up to it, we’ll talk to Gordon,” Dick said and Alya nodded.

“Ok, sounds good. Now, I overheard you teasing Jason earlier. About saving Lana from rapists?” Alya asked giving Dick a small glare, daring him to lie.

“Ah, yes. She was out past 1 AM because of a class project. Two dudes followed her but she dealt with them and Jason and Damian quickly finished them off. Jason then escorted her home. She wasn’t hurt, don’t worry,” Dick explained and Alya nodded, giving a sigh.

“She’s probably right in not telling me,” Alya mumbled and Dick nodded agreement patting her hand.

“Yeah. You probably would have attacked them had she told you,” Dick said and Alya gave a light glare.

“Don’t have to say it. I already know that,” Alya grumbled and Dick laughed.

“Come on, we better get back before Lingo gets suspicious,” Dick said and Alya nodded, standing up.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Don’t test me. Or I’ll tell Babs,” she said with a smirk and Dick sputtered.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would,” Alya said laughing as they made their way back to the precinct.

Mari-aculous @MDC_Designs

Can’t wait for the big surprise in a month!! #thisllbegreat #theyllbesohappy #onemonthleft #monthaway #surprise

Ok so here’s the next chap!! So ya, this was a kinda simple chap, wanted to go back to the others for a bit before the last chap of Paris. I hope you enjoyed it! Until next time u lovelies!!! -Love Willa<3<3<3

#fanfic #fanfic update #A New Hero #ANH #maribat #daminette #ml x dc #Alya Grayson #Lana Grayson #ocs #original characters #new chap #tweets #teasing #idk whatelse to tag

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blue-and-dog · 4 years

Text

More Sengoku Basara OC Writings!

Dinner Time (Nanahime and Yoko)

[[MORE]]

The pirate queen, scourge of the seas! Feared by all! She challenged the gods and won! She crushed her enemies! She commanded a crew of the finest, the strongest, the bravest!

She stood at the helm of her mighty ship—terror of the seas! Now that none in Japan stood against her, there was no choice but to continue to new lands! Adventure awaits!

With a crouch, she prepared to leap from the helm into the seas—

“Yoko, get down from there! Preferably not by jumping!”

Yoko snapped back to reality, the little girl crouching down to see her mother’s slightly-agitated gaze.

“Y’know, we specifically told you you’re not allowed to jump from the roof after what happened last time.” Nana held up her arms as she drew closer. “C’mon, I’ll catch you. Just climb; it’s time for dinner.”

“Comin’!” Yoko turned around, beginning to climb down and letting go; Nana caught the six-year-old under the arms with a grunt.

“Geez, you’re gettin’ heavy....” she laughed a bit, setting her down and taking her hand. “Okay, let’s go before the food gets cold.”

“‘Kay!” Yoko fell into step beside her mother, humming a bit as they headed into their home. “Think daddy’ll be back tonight?”

“Mm...probably not. You know your dad; he could be another few days, another few weeks, or show up within an hour.”

“I wonder if he’ll bring me a neat shell again this time,” Yoko thought out loud, “I don’t mind if he doesn’t, though.”

“Just want ‘im home in one piece?”

“Mm-hmm. Then we can wrestle again.”

“Am I not a good enough wrestling partner anymore?”

“That’s not true!” Yoko immediately replied, flustered, “You’re still fun! I like to wrestle you!”

“I’m just teasin’, squirt.” She messed up her daughter’s hair a bit. The pair said hi to passing crew members and guards as they went, before finally, Nana used her free hand to slide open the door to where they would be dining: a large, square room with a single round table in the middle and three somewhat-flat cushions (though one of the regular occupants was currently away). Waiting at two of the seats were a hearty bowl of steamed white rice, and somewhat-neatly assorted fillets of fresh ocean fish—Nana had even cut off the tail fin of the fish and stuck it near the far right of Yoko’s rice, having given it a bit of a whale shape (never mind that whales weren’t fish).

“Dinner!” Yoko cheered, immediately sprinting to her spot and jumping onto the little cushion meant just for her; the cushion slid a bit, but snagged on the wood floor before it could send the girl careening across the room. Yoko immediately snatched up her chopsticks and went to pick up the tail fin and pop it in her mouth—

“Ah, don’t eat that part. That’s for decoration.”

“Oh. Okay!” Yoko set it aside, instead swiping up the rice bowl and digging in voraciously.

“Please don’t choke.” Nana sat down with a laugh and a sigh, beginning to eat her own portion of the meal. After a while of eating in silence, Yoko swallowed a mouthful of rice, taking a deep breath.  ”Mommy, what kinda stuff do you do as daddy’s first mate?”

“Hm?” Nana had a fillet halfway in her mouth. Chewing and swallowing, she cleared her throat. “Well, lots of things.”

“Like what?”

“Let’s see...” she put her chopsticks to her lips as she thought for a moment. “I’m head of the household, officially, so I handle anything goin’ on around the house. I also handle inventory for your daddy’s ship; make sure the crew has enough food and supplies. Lotsa physical work, too, like helping with building and maintainin’ the fleet. Then there’s handlin’ relations with the clans your dad allied with—“

“Those are the days you gotta dress up nice, right?”

“Ugh, yeah. Anyway, there’s all that, and basically keepin’ your dad from doing anything stupid. ‘Bout a fifty percent success rate, there.”

“And you gotta make me little brothers so Daddy has heirs, right?”

Nana paused as she looked at her, then squinted. “You were supposed to be asleep when we were having that conversation.”

“I know how babies are made, mommy. You told me.” Yoko stuck her nose up, “Don’t be surprised.”

“Listen here, you...” Nana started, then snickered. “You’re gettin’ too old, too fast.”

Yoko let out a giggle, then went back to eating, while Nana watched for a moment.

Those big green eyes, full of curiosity. So familiar to her.

Sometimes, when Yoko looked up at her mother with those big green eyes, Nana could see Fukurou there, for one, fleeting moment.

How would you feel, seeing your daughter now, Fukurou? she thought.

“Mommy?” Yoko spoke up again. “You’re not eatin’.”

“Oh, you’re right. Whoops.” Nana popped another fillet in her mouth.

“It sucks Daddy’s not here to eat this with us.”

“He had plenty of food packed; I’m sure he’s fine.”

“But it’s not like when you make it fresh! Daddy’s missing out!”

“Look at you, worrying over your dad. He’d be so flattered. Complete turnaround from when you first met him.”

“Really? I can’t remember a time I didn’t like Daddy.”

“Ohhhh, there was a time when you didn’t like him at all. You were really young, though; I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”

“How old was I?” Yoko leaned in a bit, now at full attention.

“Mm....” she swallowed some rice. “...three? It wasn’t long after Mommy and all her friends decided to become pirates. I think I was working on something that required two hands, but you were being clingy and wanted me to hold you, so I was managing with one hand. The cap’n—your dad, as you now know him—came by, saw what I was doing and asked if I wanted him to hold you while I was finishing up. I told him it wasn’t a good idea because you got fussy with people you didn’t know, but he insisted it’d be fine. So, I decided, fine, I’d let him hold you for a few minutes. Well, no sooner do I pass you to him and he says hello, that you scream, ‘NO!’ and—“ she started to cackle, “You smacked him in the face as hard as your little hand could. Which, luckily, wasn’t very hard.”

“I hit him!?” Yoko sounded distraught. “I’d never hit daddy if we weren’t playing!”

“Well, he started laughing after that and just held onto you despite the fact you started squirming and flailing—I think he kinda saw you as a challenge. Did seem kinda disappointed at your reaction, though.”

“When did I start liking him?”

“I’d say about a month or so later. I was talking to him about something, and you just walked over, looked up at him and said, clear as day, ‘Aniki, up!’ and held up your arms. I swear, he must have been waiting to hear that, because he scooped you up immediately. Plus, scored him some points in my book, with how much he took to you after that.”

“Is that when you fell in love with him?”

“Mm....nah. I can’t really pinpoint a time that happened. That’s the thing about falling in love, kiddo; sometimes, it’s just kinda...there.”

Sometimes more than once. And with multiple people. But she doesn’t need the details.

After dinner was eaten, Yoko scurried off while Nana went to wash the dishes. As she entered the empty kitchen, she went over the dinner conversation in her head, and again, her mind went back to Fukurou.

“Hey, if it’s a girl, let’s name her Yoko, okay?”

“Yoko? Not against it, but why?”

“We can use the character for ‘ocean.’ We met on the beach. It fits, yeah?”

“Yeah...you’re right, it does! That’s actually pretty cute.”

She smiled a bit. Him and his symbolic names. Such a dork.

He was her former lover.

He was exuberance and life and adventure all rolled up into one. Never sat still, never stopped thinking of new things to do. Never stayed in the same place. Always found something to love about the places he went.

As she finished drying the dishes, though, she paused. A pang in her stomach, and it wasn’t the food doing it. With a sigh, she headed back to the quarters she shared with her husband, going to the closet where she kept her few belongings. Sliding it open, she pulled out a small leather pouch, opening it and dumping the contents into her palm—a round, amber stone on a leather string—the string was long since broken. Raising it to eye level, she turned it over in her hand, a frown crossing her features.

The kid’s doing fine. We all are.

She closed her fist around it, giving it a squeeze.

I promise, I’m okay.

She sat against the wall, staring across the room blankly for a while, still holding the stone in her hand.

She wasn’t aware how much time had passed, until Yoko opened the door again.

“Mommy, I’m going to bed! It’s story time!”

“Huh?” Nana snapped back to reality. “Oh...! Right. Sorry. Are you all set?”

“Mm-hmm.” Yoko nodded, lying completely.

“Hey.” Nana crouched in front of her. “Are you lyin’ to me?”

“...no.” Yoko looked away.

“You didn’t wash up!” She put her hands on her daughter’s cheeks. “You gotta wash up, kiddo! Or else you could get sick, and that would be,” she smushed her cheeks, taking a faux-sinister tone. “Sooooo baaaaaad.”

“Stoooop!” Yoko whined, pulling away. “I’ll go wash my face, fine!”

Nana laughed as Yoko scurried off, heading to her daughter’s room—the room was filled with odds and ends; various little “treasures” Yoko had picked up from playing with friends, going on “adventures” with her parents, or just wandering around. But displayed proudly on a small shelf were four seashells, each different shapes and colors—gifts given to her by her stepfather...her “daddy.”

“Here I am....” Yoko arrived moments later, crawling onto her futon.

“Alrighty, so what story do you want?”

“...actually...instead of a story...”

“Hm?” 

“...can I ask you about my daddy? The daddy who made me?”

Nana felt her stomach flip as Yoko asked. “...you wanna know about your birth dad, huh?”

“You don’t gotta tell me everything if you don’t wanna, but....I at least wanna know what he was like.”

Nana didn’t know this feeling. It wasn’t dread. She knew Yoko would want to know more eventually. Fukurou didn’t live to see Yoko; didn’t get to watch her grow. And as those big green eyes stared back at Nana...

“...well....I can’t deny you that, huh?” Nana smiled a bit. “...okay.”

One day, Yoko would have to know what happened. But...at least for now, she could tell her who he was.

#sengoku basara #chosokabe clan #sengoku basara oc #writing #fanfiction #senbasa #capcom #original character #nanahime

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fieldfullofbangtan · 6 years

Text

bts reaction: waking up after a one night stand

requests are open!

✎ masterlist

Seokjin

After waking up beside you after the incredible night he just had, he’d be taken aback by how pretty you were. Even with messy hair and smudged makeup. Not wanting this to be a one time thing, he would sneakily rush to the kitchen and make pancakes to serve you in bed.

“Rise and shine beautiful ~”

You rub your eyes and see him sitting against the bed with a tray of pancakes on his lap.

“You didn’t have to...” you smile.

“Just a little thank you for last night”

Namjoon

He sat up on the bed and rubbed his temples feeling the classic hangover headache kick in. Not really remebering last night he wasn’t expecting a girl in his bed, but that’s what he saw. Being shocked and startled he literally fell out of the bed.

“SHIT” he hissed when his hip hit the corner of the nightstand.

Him falling off the bed and being loud obviously woke you and now you were just looking at each other not knowing what to say or do. Suddenly the hangover headache hit you too and you furrowed you brows and held you head at the feeling.

“Same...” Namjoon sighed. “How about I get some medicin for the headache and an icepack for my hip and we’ll just sleep the hangover away?” he said smiling through the pain.

Yoongi

When he woke up his first thought was -damn im comfortable-. You had while asleep unknowingly wrapped your arm around him and now he was a little afraid to move. But curiousity got the better of him and he slowly turned to face you. When he saw you he was suprised to see such a cute and peacefull face.

Because of him turning, your hand was now resting against his chest. Usually he would just wake up and take a morning shower but a part of him would much rather just keep sleeping beside you. And that’s exactly what he did. He wrapped his arm around you, careful not disturb you slumber, and just enjoyed the moment.

Hoseok

You and Hoseok spent a very long night together. You were friends who both needed to blow off some steam and what better way to do that than crazy monkey sex like 6 times in one night.

When he woke up the first thing he saw was you + a lot of bare skin and now he felt like doing it one last time. He poked you a few times and when you didn’t wake up he kissed your shoulder. Though he was met with an unexpected response.

You were tired and sore from last night and all you wanted to do was sleep so feeling his small pecks on you shoulder you sighed and put you hands against his chest. You pushed him back and layed on top of him.

“I’m sore” you say with your face in the crook of his neck.

“Oh” He chuckles, “I’m sorry if I was too rough last night, I promise I’ll be nicer next time”

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Jimin

Not really the one night stand kinda guy, he woke up being a little panic-y over the situation. He looked at your bare back and started to wonder if maybe it’d be best if he left your apartment. Thats when you turned around.

Usually people aren’t the most attractive when sleeping but he couldn’t get over how cute you were. He just stared at your face in awe. You opened your eyes and found Jimin staring at you wide-eyed. He was a little too slow to look away and realizing he’d been caught he started to blush.

“Sorry about that” he said, “You just looked so peaceful”

Aaaand now you were the blushing mess.

Taehyung

You had a great night with Taehyung so you were a little sad to find the spot next to you empty in the morning. You really wanted to keep sleeping but your bladder was not having it so you quickly got up and walked to the bathroom.

Upon opening the door you found Tae in the middle of taking off your robe and stepping into the shower.

“This is a really nice robe” He said trying to make small talk.

“I know”

“Soooo... wanna join me?”

Jungkook

You weren’t planning on sleeping with Jungkook but you definately don’t regret it. You guys met not long ago and you had just become friends. And even though you wouldn’t mind your relationship going this direction you were afraid Jungkook wouldn’t feel the same so you decided the best thing to do is leave before it becomes akward.

He had his arm all the way around you but you managed to lift it and roll away. You slowly got out of the bed and started to walk around trying to find the clothes that were scattered around the room due to the passionate makeout session from last night. When you finally found the last item of clothing Jungkook sat up on the bed yawning.

“Where you goin’ ?”

“I- I wanted to get out of your hair. Since you probably have a busy day.”

“Actually I don’t...” He smiled “You know I wouldn’t mind if you stayed... I’d feel less guilty about sleeping in if someone did it with me”

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shea-morgan · 4 years

Text

Discord Text & Short Para Thread

WHO: Jace & Shea ( @jace-matthews )

WHEN: August 30th

WHAT: After Jace breaks the news of his break up and in the midst of party planning for next weekend, they end up having an emotional sleepover in khai’s guest bedroom lol

TRIGGER WARNINGS: -crinnge emoooootions

MENTIONS:

Very briefly: @aaronhart93 @romanbeckett @lorencourtier

talk about @malakhai-ozera @dammitdorian

Jace are you okay?

Shea. yeah

Jace you promise?

Shea. I will be eventually

Jace Whats wrong

Shea. have fun at your party

Jace shea it’s next weekend

Shea. okay my statement still stands

Jace so fucking talk to me. Please

Shea. I am

Jace Whats wrong

Shea. Nothing

Jace alright whatever

Shea. I’m just saying I can’t go to your party

Jace why the fuck not

Shea. Aaron & Roman

Jace whatever

Shea. you really think it’s a good idea for me to show up?

Jace I really could not give a rats ass if they want you there or not. It’s my house

Shea. will there be alcohol?

Jace some

Shea. yeah

Jace k.

Shea. Jace

Jace what shea?

Shea. all I do is make you mad

Jace I’m not mad. I’m just annoyed You give one worded answers like you have lost the ability of how to speak to me I’m not a stranger

Shea. I’m afraid and I’m confused

Jace what are you so afraid of babe?

Shea. I don’t have words for that right now

Jace okay then I guess I’m goin to bed

Shea. wait

Jace yes?

Shea. do you still love loren?

Jace I’ll always love him but he’s not my person

Shea. can you come here?

Jace yes i can

Shea. can you ... sleep here?

Jace yes I can

Shea. good

Jace give me 5 minutes

.... 5 minutes later.

Jace pulling up to Shea’s place, Jace took a deep breath, getting out in just his joggers and walking towards the entrance of his place, taking the stairs and knocking on the door.

Shea. It was moments after the knock that Shea pulled the door opened to see Jace. He didn’t know what he even planned to do, but found himself closing the space between them and pulling Jace into a hug. A tight hug.

Jace Jace was nearly still, his glasses fogging up the minute his tears started flowing down his face. He had yet to cry. And he was holding it in. It was always “be strong Jace” but he just couldn’t, breaking down in Shea’s arms and hugging him back

Shea. Shea couldn’t see Jace’s face, but he could feel him break down. So he didn’t pull away he just held Jace for as long as he needdd. He let his chin rest over his shoulder and didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say, as long as Jace knew it was okay to let it out on Shea.

Jace he finally pulled back, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe his face and smiled at Shea. “Thank you.” He said clearing his throat. “I don’t uh...normally do that”

Shea. He let go of Jace, offering a small half smile back to him, meeting his gaze. “Yeah... me either,” he replied, reaching out to pull him inside.

Jace he followed, smiling that he was at Khai’s spot and not just actually chilling on a couch. “We just going to bed?”

Shea. Shea walked over to the bedroom he was staying in, the comforter already pulled back like he already was in it. Which he was briefly. “Oh... do you not want to go to bed?” He asked, turning to look back at him.

Jace he snickered, pulling off his glasses and plopping right into the bed and sighing happily. “Honestly it’s what I need”

Shea. Shea crawled back into the bed beside Jace after a moment. “Yeah me too,” he said. “I didn’t want to sleep here alone again.”

Jace “you don’t ever have to do that again” he said truthfully, crawling under the covers and bringing the covers up to his neck as he turned on his side

Shea. “what are you saying?” He asked, letting himself to get close to jace, getting comfy under the covers.

Jace he shrugged. “Like if you need me to stay again, I will.” He cleared his throat. “But I think Khai is back tomorrow”

Shea. Moved his head to snuggle in closer, letting his lips and nose rest on Jace’s shoulder and let his heavy eyes flutter shut. “Yeah... remind me never to take a vacation with a girlfriend or boyfriend or whatever,” he muttered. It was stil so strange to be saying words like boyfriend and admitting he liked Jace. Although really only him and khai were aware.

Jace “it’s not terrible.” He said smiling as he felt shea now much closer to him. “Why? Is Khai and Dorian not having a good time either?” He asked, just curious.

Shea. He sighed lightly, and opened his eyes again. “I ... shouldn’t say anything,” he shook his head a little bit. “It’s between him and Dorian.”

Jace “He already told me some things so I’m sure he might say more. But I won’t pry.” He assured him, sighing a little to himself

Shea. Shea picked up his head a little bit to look at Jace and then rest it on a pillow. “Yeah, I’m aware he told you things,” he said. “Snitching on me about not sleeping here.”

Jace “I just wanted you to have a full size bed.” He said truthfully, turning around to face shea. “I didn’t like the idea of you on a couch”

Shea. Shea bit down on his bottom lip for a long moment. Meeting Jace's eyes when he turned over and faced him. "I'm surprised you like the idea of me at all," He muttered. But he was being honest.

Jace "I've liked the idea of you for a really long time." Jace finally muttered, looking up at shea as his lip pressed into a hard line, a little thrown at how deep this conversation was starting to get

Shea. As much as it felt good to hear someone say that to him and mean it, especially Jace, it still hurt. Because Jace didn't know him. Yeah he knew the mistake he made with the knife. But he didn't know nearly enough of his life leading up to that moment. "You like the idea of who I'm trying to be."

Jace "Or maybe I like the person I was getting to know." Jace replied, sighing to himself as he turned back on his side and faced the wall, letting his eyes close as he tried to just collect his own thoughts.

Shea. He sighed to himself. "I'm trying so hard, Jace," He said. He was now looking at his back.

Jace "Yeah because you want to better yourself. But you're not doing it for me. You're doing it for yourself." He admitted, taking a deep breath before turning to look at him again. "Just the time spent with you, I couldn't help how i felt." He shrugged. "But i kept it to myself because i didn't want to make you uncomfy or make you feel like i was constantly trying to come on to you. The times I did, you literally shut it down so I just stopped trying."

Shea. "I don't understand... that's supposed to be a good thing right?" He said. He watched Jace turn back over, and Shea shifted to prop his head up on his elbow. "I never thought you would try to keep coming onto me," he said. "That's not why I shut it down."

Jace "I never said it was a bad thing." He shrugged and then sighed as he looked up at him. "Yeah but if you put yourself in my shoes, you shutting it down as many times as you did, it's only fair that I stop myself before i liked you even more. I was protecting myself."

Shea. He was quiet now, for a long moment. It felt like forever while he tried to think of something to say other than he knew. But that’s what came out anyway, “yeah, I know. I get it.”

Jace Jace just scanned over Shea's face before rolling over on his and staring up at the ceiling as his arm laid pressed behind his head. "okay." he breathed out, chewing his bottom lip as he just got lost in his own head.

Shea. “what are you thinking about?” He asked Jace. He meant besides the obvious.

Jace "Just everything." He shrugged. "Nothing crazy important." He said, turning to look at shea and giving him a half-hearted smile. "I'm just glad I can be here."

Shea. “Me too,” he replied. He dropped his head and let it rest on his arm now. “I’m sorry about fighting you... in the stairwell. I know I already apologized but I just want to say it again.”

Jace “it’s okay.” He responded, looking over at Shea and giving him a even more gentle smile. “I’m just glad you did. It’s all good.”

Shea. “Can we just ... go slow,” he said. He didn’t even know where that came from. It just came out. But he meant it. They weren’t exactly talking about them and whatever their relationship was at the moment.

Jace “whatever pace you want.” Jace shrugged, knowing they weren’t even officially doing anything but he was content if that’s what shea wanted to be one day. “It’s probably for the best since i just got out of something anyways.” He added.

Shea. “Yeah, it’s better that day,” he said. “I’m sorry about Loren.” He added. “When you wanna talk about it, I’m here.”

Jace “thank you.” He said, taking a deep breath as he felt the build up of tears again. “I’m good for now though”

Shea. “Okay,” Shea nodded a little. He could avoid that subject until it wasn’t sensitive. “Are you tired?”

Jace “of being emotional? Yes.” He snickered. “And yes I’m tired but....not sure if I’m ready to sleep”

Shea. He couldnt help but laugh a little. “Okay, yeah... same.” He replied. He didn’t mean it that way but it was relatable. “I thought I was ready too, but I did sleep through the night and all morning.”

Jace “I’m just good to lay here in silence.” He shrugged. “Or lay like we were...” he said to him truthfully as he turned to look at him. “That was nice.”

Shea. “like we were?” He asked. But that was a dumb question. Shea moved to get comfortable and closer to Jace again. “You’re the one that turned over.”

Jace he laughed “I move a lot. I’m sorry.” He said, facing shea and smiling. “You really are so handsome. I hope you know.”

Shea. Shea reached over and pulled Jace closer. “Well I sleep like a rock,” he said. “Even with a black eye?” He asked, even though it was healing mostly by now.

Jace “I mean once I’m asleep, that’s a different story”. He assured him and then nodded. “Yes, even with a black eye.” He smiled, running his thumb over the area, gently

Shea. It didn’t hurt much anymore to touch his eye, so he let Jace touch him. He slowly offered a small half smile. “I think Im going to keep working for khai for now,” he told him honestly.

Jace “i think that would be a great idea.” He told him, slowly bringing his hand back into his own chest and looking at Shea. “Is he gonna pay you that much every time though?”

Shea. “I told him I want a steady job,” he said. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to be sharing this so it’s between you and me, but I think he’s going to open a restaurant. I told him I want a real job there.”

Jace “he actually did tell me that!” Jace said happily. “I think that would be a great job for you, baby”

Shea. “I’ve been looking so hard for jobs,” he admitted. “No one wants to hire someone fresh out of jail.... and on bail for that matter.”

Jace “well actually working for Khai will be good for you.” He smiled, placing his hand over Shea’s. “It’ll be a good start”

Shea. He slowly took in a breath and let it out slowly, “yeah.” She’s so badly didn’t want to accept Khai’s hand out jobs. But it was all he had right now. It was something. Shea had to accept that.

Jace he could tell this wasn’t something shea wanted to do. But it would be good for him. Squeezing his hand, he gave him a half smile and closed his eyes for a moment

Shea. Eventually Shea tucked his head down again and rested his cheek ontop of their hands. “Is he going to tell you everytime he pays me?”

Jace “Eh I doubt that.” He snickered, using his index finger to stroke Shea’s cheek. “I just needed to make sure you were okay.”

Shea. “I’ll be okay,” he said. “I’m still alive aren’t I?”

Jace “thank god.” He breathed out, bringing their hands to his mouth and kissing the back of Shea’s hand, smiling against it

Shea. He watched Jace kiss his hand. It was a little more soothing than he expected such a small act to be. He smiled a little bit.

Jace he looked up at Shea, smiling right back at him. He didn’t even really know what else to do, scooting in even closer as he pressed his forehead to the others

Shea. He blinked, his heart beat spiking at the same time when Jace got closer to press his forehead to Shea’s. Shea normally felt calm around him but it was a whole different playing field when he did things like this. Not that they’d ever been this close face to face before.

Jace he knew this was new for shea but he didn’t dare move. He kept his head locked in place, kissing the back of Shea’s hand once more as he kept his eyes completely shut

Shea. Shea didn’t move away. There was a whole mixture of emotions swirling through him. Did he wanna throw up? Or was that just that weird adrenaline rush in his stomach? Or maybe he wanted to cry. He really couldn’t get it under control so he just laid there quietly close to jace, because despite the confusion, he knew he didn’t actually want to move. Eventually he let his eyes close and whispered, “this is better than jail.”

Jace “if you feel trapped....just tell me.” He finally said, still lying there as still as he could

Shea. “No I don’t feel trapped,” he assured him.

Jace he nodded, scared to take this any further. He was so afraid to put him in a bad position. Or an awkward one. That wasn’t who he was

Shea. Started to feel relaxed after a few more moments, his eyes still closed. He pulled the covers up over his shoulders, and moved his free hand to drape over Jace’s side. He could definitely fall asleep like this and be content.

Jace he pulled shea over and into his chest, kissing the top of his head as they both lied there for a moment, his eyes still closed, just taking him in.

#sm&*#jace

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depressedgamerxx-blog · 5 years

Text

Coffee and Mental breakdowns

Summary: It's 3 am and Scout is not have a good night, he's comforted by someone unexpected.

An: Hey guys! I thought it was about time I wrote something with Medic cuz I love him. This fic is also sorta like a stress reliever, in other words I'm projecting my own self experiences on poor Scout lol.

Words:1630

Scout stared into the dark waves he created by stirring his spoon in his cup of coffee, watching as he created dark swirls with the bitter liquid.

A few drops splashed out onto the table, but Scout didn't pay them any mind. He would clean them up later. After a few more moments of his rhythmic stirring he reluctantly brought the cup up to his lips.

He always hated the taste of Coffee, it was always so bitter and it didn't matter how much sugar or cream he added.

He sipped the coffee and swallowed it with a grimace, for now he would just have to deal with the bitter taste. He didn't have anymore energy drinks so coffee was the only thing keeping him from passing out.

And he was certain that falling back to sleep was not what he wanted to do.

He rubbed his tired eyes, glancing at the clock on the microwave. 3 am flashed on the clock, creating a sort gentle glow of light, just enough to give Scout some sort of light source.

3 o'clock in the morning, In about 3 or 4 hours from now he would most likely be joined by Engineer or Sniper, and later the rest of the team.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. His normal uniform was replaced by his sleeping wear, which consisted of an over sized Red Sox baseball jersey and black basketball shorts. The only thing that remained were his wraps which he almost always kept on.

Always.

He rested his head atop his folded arms; blue-grey eyes wandered around the kitchen. A place he knew as well as the back of his hands having spent many breakfasts and meetings in the room.

He felt his eyes begin to sleep close and he sat up with a jerk, quickly reaching for his cup he downed the rest of the bitter coffee. Nearly choking on the bitter taste as it burned the back of his throat on the way down.

He sat the cup down on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his bandaged hands. He knew he should be asleep, he knew it wasn't good for him to force himself to stay awake but he couldn't help it.

It didn't matter if he drank warm milk, it didn't matter how many sheep he counted. Every time he closed his eyes he wasn't met with the bliss relief of sleep. He was left with nothing but his own thoughts, his insecurities. And he hated it.

this wasn't the first time his thoughts had kept him awake, sometimes they would keep him awake for days on end. On those days he would give in on his exhaustion and ask Medic for something to help him sleep.

Scout didn't understand why this happened, but it was like a routine.

Some days he could look in the mirror and see this super cool guy who could do it all, but some days when he looked in the mirror, all he was was someone who just...wasn't good enough.

That, no matter what he did none of it would matter in the end. He was gonna die eventually, so what was the point of even trying? It was routine, fighting, dying, respawn, repeat. Eventually he just ended up feeling numb.

And on those days, he had to fake it. All of his stupid jokes and cocky attitude, his confidence. He had to fake all of it, and it always made him feel gross. Like he was lying to everyone, like he was just a big faker.

He blinked a few times to clear his vision which had blurred just a bit, and he considered getting another cup of coffee; but his stomach seemed to twist at the thought and he decided against it. Not wanting to make himself sick.

Instead he began to pick at his bandages, an old habit of his. He probably shouldn't do it because it messed up his wraps, but it distracted him.

Plus it was better than him picking at his skin.

He pulled a small string, causing the end of the bandage to unravel and fray. He sighed, now he'd probably have to get some new ones. Great.

"Having fun sitting alone in ze dark?"

Scout jumped a very un manly squeak sounded from his throat as he whipped around in his chair in surprise , nearly tumbling out of it.

Medic stood in the doorway of the kitchen, somewhat illuminated by the light of the microwave. He gave Scout a somewhat sheepish smile.

"Apologies! I didn't mean to scare you"

Scout relaxed slightly when he saw who it was, he let out an annoyed huff. Mainly embarrassed that the older man had snuck up on him.

"Geez dude gonna give me a fricken heart attack, how long 'ave ya been standin there anyway?"

Medic shrugged " Not to long, just long enough to watch you as you sit alone in ze dark"

In a few long strides he sat himself in a chair in front of the younger, resting his chin on his hand.

"So please do tell me vhat bothers you"

Scout blinked in surprise, slightly a taken back by the Doctor's sudden interest in his well-being "

"Wha...What da hell makes ya think sumthins wrong wit me?"

Medic rose a brow "Vell, for starters it iz three in ze morning and you are drinking coffee. Plus your expression isn't exactly cheerful"

Scout sputtered slightly, narrowing his eyes.

"Y-Yeah, well you're up too aren't ya?"

Medic shrugged "Vell yes, but I waz finishing up some vork. And I vaz heading to bed, you however look like you plan to spend ze rest of ze night here. So please.."

He leaned forward slightly " Tell me, vhat bothers you? "

Scout scowled at him, before he sighed. Shoulders slumping in defeat, he mentally cursed the older man and his ability to read people so well.

"It's..It's just...nothing...really, I'm just....being stupid"

He gave an awkward chuckle, squirming in his seat under the doctors gaze.

He swallowed thickly.

"I..just uh...I've just been havin a rough night ya know?"

Medic gave a sympathetic hum " And vhy iz zhat? "

Scout shrugged, looking down at this bandaged hands. Clenching and unclenching them into fists.

"Hey, you uh..remember awhile ago when ya found those..things under my wraps?"

The doctor's eyes widened slightly in surprise, sitting upright his gaze turned serious.

"Vhy...Yes Scout..I do"

Scout glanced up to meet the doctors gaze almost shyly.

"And uh..remember how ya told me that I could always talk ta ya it I needed too..?"

Medics gaze softened as he smiled at the younger man sitting across from him, placing a hand over the others smaller bandaged one.

"Of course Scout, you can tell me anything."

"And you promise won't tell anyone nuthin?"

"I promise"

Scout took a deep shaky breath.

"I..I don't know man, it's just been one of those night ya know? I just couldn't sleep and every time I tried my mind just kept sending all these negative thoughts to my brain man"

"What kind of thought Scout?" Medic inquired gently .

Scout half heartedly shrugged his shoulders, he hated talking about this stuff. Or more so that he was terrible at expression his thoughts and shit.

"I don't know, like just bad thoughts ya know? Like how I'm not good enough or how I'm gonna die alone a-and how everything gonna leave and shit and how I'm nothin but an annoyin brat and..and"

Scouts rambling was cut off by his voice cracking, struggling to swallow last the lump that was steadily growing in his throat he choked back a sob. He brought a fist up to his mouth and bite on it, turning away.

Fuck Fuck Fuck, why the fuck was he crying for? He wasn't some little kid! Yet here he was gettin all emotional shit, in front of fuckin Medic of all people.

"I-Im sorry Man, I just -" his breath hitched as more tears sprang to his eyes, threatening to spill over.

Suddenly next thing he knew he found his face being pressed in the familiar white lab coat as Medic, who had made his way to Scouts side of the table while he had been speaking, wrapped his arms around the runners smaller body. Gently pressing the boys face into his shoulder.

"Shhh, it's alright Klein. Go ahead and cry, it vill be good for you. You'll feel better afterwards."

Scout choked out a sob, clutching at the man's shirt he buried his face in his shoulder. His own shoulders shaking as he sobbed. Medic gently rubbed the boys back.

"Shhh Shhh easy Das Kind, I am here " Medic cooed softly.

"I-It just fuckin hurts man! A-And I'm just so fuckin tired"

" I know kleiner hase I know"

Medic continued to coo softly in both English and German while Scout continued to cry into his shoulder. After awhile Scout pulled away sniffing and rubbing his now red eyes. Face flushed slightly from embarrassment.

He rubbed the back of his neck "T-Thanks man" he mumbled.

Medic smiled at him, gently patting his cheek.

"See! I told you, you would feel better "

Scout laughed slightly "Heh, yeah...sorry bout messin up your shirt"

He stood, saving the younger man off.

"It's nothing, it's just a shirt after all"

Pulling the younger to stand he began pushing him gently towards the door.

"Now! Time for bed, might as Well gets some sleep vhile you can"

Scout rolled his eyes "Alright Alright Ma, I'm freakin goin"

He made his way to leave but paused in the doorway.

"Hey uh, goodnight Doc"

Medic smiled at him .

"Goodnight Scout"

#Team Fortress 2 #Tf2 #Medic #Scout #Fluff #Team as family #team bonding #Platonic relationships #Hugz #angst #Hurt and comfort #Mental breakdowns #Anxiety #Coffee #Self harm me mention #TW #Oof #My fics #My writing

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enigmatist17 · 6 years

Text

Another Step (GCBC)

Here is an AO3 link.

Six months passed in seemed like a blink of an eye. Cold weather began to descend upon Bricksburg and many other realms, the change of seasons looking promising. With the lack of rules to follow, people could celebrate at their leisure, traveling wherever they could desire. Entering the city, a small and unassuming car carefully traveled through the busy city traffic, coming to a stop outside a rather ordinary apartment complex. An older couple exited the car, the driver moving to the truck while the passenger looked up at the building.

“I wonder why it’s not strange lookin’ like everythin’ else.” Ma Cop commented, her husband replied with a shrug. Ciaran closed the trunk, giving his wife Neila a pointed look.

“Could ye help me carry all this in?” Neila chuckled, moving to take a few of the tupperware containers he held, as well as one of their suitcases. No longer having to fear Business, the couple had decided it was about time they came together for a family holiday. Ciaran gently kissed her cheek before the two walked inside, heading to the older but functioning elevator in the corner of the lobby. The ride up to the seventh floor was short, Neila murmuring to her husband as they walked down the long hallway. Their destination was the very last apartment, it’s door just as unassuming as its neighbors. Neila shared a look with her husband before raising her hand to knock on the door.

“I wouldn’t if I was you.” Glancing to her right, they both spotted one of the inhabitants of another apartment on their way out. “You know who lives there?”

“Aye, of course, we do. Our sons.” Ciaran replied calmly, but the warning tone lacing the words did not go unnoticed. The inhabitant shook their heads, muttering something before spitting at their feet.

“You raised a pair of monsters, I hope you know that.” Ciaran just gave a smile, his gaze cold as ice as the person walked away with a disgusted look on their face.

“What an unhappy person Ma.” He shook his head, the two quickly looking to the door as it was unlocked. Daniel was the one to peer out at them after slowly opening the door, eyes going wide in alarm and what seemed fear.

“Can we come in dearie?” His mother smiled, watching as her son opened the door after his brother switched in.

“Hi Mum, hi Dad.” Liam smiled a bit, watching as they placed the food they had brought on his table. The room was sparse, Ciaran looking around a bit as his wife embraced Liam. When they pulled back from each other, Neila reached up with a soft look. She could feel Liam tense when she gently touched one of the scars that now adorned his face, her heart breaking for her sons.

“They’re lookin’ better son.” Ciaran murmured, placing his hand on Liam’s shoulder. “Yer Ma and I were worried...we haven’t heard from ye in a while.”

“Sorry...been caught up in work.” Liam looked down. It wasn’t technically a lie, as he had begun the administrative paperwork to get Bricksburg’s police departments back up and running. They had yet to actually go to one of the stations in person, still fearing a harsh reaction to their presence. Some of the email’s they received still had insults attached to them, but it was getting easier to ignore them now.

“Well, why don’t we get ya fed?” Neila spoke, noting how they probably hadn’t had a decent meal in some time. Liam grinned a bit at the suggestion, a light conversation filling the apartment as the table was set. It did not escape the couples’ notice that Daniel made no appearance.

“Son, is there a reason yer brother is hidin’?” Ciaran finally asked after dinner had been eaten. Liam froze, midway through preparing the guest bed for his parents to sleep in.

“W-What?” Liam looked over, Ciaran’s hands on his hips, while Neila looked on in worry.

“Ya heard me, son, why is Daniel hidin’?” Liam swallowed thickly, his heart racing as his parents waited for their answer.

”I can’t face them.” Daniel sounded terrified at the prospect of talking to their parents. The parents he had let be kragled by his brother. The parents that had only been comforting right before being frozen for days. The parents he had failed.

“You didn’ fail them.” Liam murmured, Ma and Pa knowing they were speaking with each other.

”They must hate me, I know it. I was stubborn, I forced you to do it.” Daniel froze as he realized Liam had switched mid-sentence.

“He would have made sure ye had done it, son.” Neila spoke up, her heart breaking at how scared her son looked.

“Mum...I-I could have fought him.” He dropped the pillow Liam had been holding, not evening seeing his father move to catch his son before he sank to his knees. Ciaran gently coaxed Daniel to sit on the bed, his gaze concerned yet firm as Daniel reached up to force his brother into control.

“No, you don’t, Daniel Copper.” He said in his authoritative voice, crossing his arms as Daniel lowered his hand. He looked like a scolded child, gaze on the floor as his father let out a heavy sigh. “We just want to talk to ye son.”

“Yer friend Benny had to tell us ye were alive,” Neila spoke up, Daniel’s shoulders slumping. “Why didn’ ye let us know?” Daniel’s response was low and muttered, Neila, squaring her shoulders. “Answer me Daniel, right this instant.”

“I was afraid ye would hate us, ma’am.” He answered, having straightened in attention.

“What? Why on earth would we?” She sounded confused beyond belief, Daniel staring at his mother without a wavering glance.

“He threatened ye...over the years he threatened ye both. W-We couldn’t stop, even though it was bad…” Daniel’s voice began to crack, curling his hands into fists as he forced himself to continue. “We are cops...we’re supposed to uphold the law...but we were twistin’ it fer him. We failed ye both.”

“You did no such thing!” Their mother protested in an instant, taking Daniel’s face into her hands. Those mismatched eyes stared into hers, swirling with emotions from the sons she had raised from birth. Guilt, anger, confusion, awe, and overwhelming sadness were all too clear to say, Neila leaning forward to press a kiss to their forehead. “We are not angry with ye lads, not a little bit.”

“Ye were doin’ yer jobs, don’t ever apologize fer it.” Ciaran joined in, watching as Daniel just...broke. Neila was drawn forward as her sons clung to her, the sobs and the apologies coming from both of the at once. They would have done anything for their parents, and they had for eight and a half years without question. Yet, it had all been for naught. The fact that they knew, that they knew Business had threatened them, made the duo feel even worse. It was supposed to be their job to protect and serve, and they had failed at the most basic of levels. Neila and Ciaran comforted their sons, their hearts heavy as they shared a glance. Business had been bad news the first time they had met, his smile following the two every day as their boys began to work for them.

It was late by the time Daniel and Liam had stopped crying, led to their sparse bedroom by Neila. It was the first time they had fallen asleep with ease, their mother stroking their hair as she sang an old Irish lullaby.

“It’s worse than we thought Ma.” Her husband sighed, pulling up a chair beside the bed.

“Aye...our poor boys.” She murmured, tracing one of the more prominent scars with a saddened gaze. “I wanted so much ta stop ‘im.”

“Me too dear.” Pa frowned, remembering the murderous rage that still filled him from time to time. Business. He had taken their sons, turned them into a broken shell who was obedient to a fault and then at the end silenced them. When their friend Benny had come to them, the news that Danny was alive filled them both with absolute joy. The joy faded quickly, however, the couple becoming more and more horrified to learn what had happened to them since then. They left for Bricksburg the very next day, knowing they needed to be there for their sons. “We shoulda come earlier…”

“I know dear, but we couldn’t leave the precinct in its terrible shape.” She frowned. Business had all but destroyed the vast police network that had spanned the multiverses, and it was proving to be a challenge to repair it. He knew she was right, merely gazing at their sleeping sons.

Liam grumbled at the sunlight that hit his face, blindly reaching out for his glasses.

“Thought I told ye to close the blinds last night.” He muttered to his brother, sitting up with a yawn. His eyes went wide when last nights memories hit him like a truck, the man quickly getting up and onto his feet. The smell of croissants and coffee filtered in from the kitchen, Daniel taking control as he went to the kitchen.

“Good mornin’ dearies.” Neila greeted when she noticed her sons, Daniel smiling a bit as she pecked their forehead. “Would ye mind settin’ the table?”

“Sure thing Ma.” He nodded, a bit surprised to see a nice green tablecloth on the table, as well as some new chairs. “Ma?”

“I hope ye don’t mind, but this place is lookin’ a bit sparse.” She replied after noting his slight hesitation. “Pa and I got a few things ta start.”

“Ya didn’t need ta.” Liam replied, switching in as he set the table.

“Oh hush yerselves, this place is far too bare.” She scolded lightly, hand on her hip. “I know ye boys, and ye can’t stand this type of thing fer too long.” Liam frowned lightly, knowing she wasn’t too wrong. Working for Business had been a 24/7 job, so they had never really been home longer than the occasional night or two. “We’re goin’ out as a family later, and pickin’ ye out some nice things.”

“Ma, ye don’t need to.” Liam said once again, their father joining the conversation as he came out from getting washed up.

“Why? Do ye want to build them instead?” Placing a bowl of freshly cooked eggs on the table, she noticed them stiffen. They all had known to keep their familial abilities a secret while Business was in power, something the former overlord thankfully never figured out.

“That’s actually a great idea. It’s been a long time since we all built things tagether.” Ciaran nodded, Liam silent as they all sat down for breakfast. He was staring at his hands as if feeling the urge to build and create. Since Emmet had found him, they had refused to build anymore, almost afraid of another Master Builder catching them in the act. The revulsion would undoubtedly be massive, and they couldn’t handle any more hatred at the moment.

“Perhaps not.” Neila gently patted his arm, gaining Liam’s attention. “One step at a time dearie.”

“...one step at a time.” Liam nodded, giving a small smile before serving himself some of the food.

One step at a time indeed.

#lego #lego movie #gcbc #bcgc #good cop #bad cop #ma cop #pa cop #gonna start linking my archive #hoping people will read it there #cause no one likes reading walls of text apparently

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calcifermovesthecastle · 7 years

Text

My headcanons for what each shinigami would do for their sleep deprived s/o

So, as a person who apparently hates myself, because i do it to myself a LOT, (IM SORRY I DONT KNOW ENOUGH ABOUT THE GERMAN ONES Q.Q) i figured i’d do a thing

William-

-kinda like, doesn’t notice at first, not until you drink your fifteenth cup of coffee

-and he just kinda

-“how long have you been awake?”

-even if its been like just 1 day vs 3 goin on 4

-he isnt happy

-“if i have to sleep every night, so do you”

-wont hear any defense from you

-even though he shows his emotions as well as a chalkboard

-he still cares

-and he like

-takes the coffee out of your hands

-by that time caffeine probably doesnt work anymore anyways

-and he tells you to go lie down hold on i cant i need to go punch something because fluffy will is too much

-“whatever you’re working on can wait until you get some sleep, y/n”

-makes you some tea

-(WILL MAKING TEA CAN YOU PICTURE IT HOLD ON IM HAVING A HEART ATTACK)

-kinda like

-sits on the edge of your bed until he’s sure you’re asleep

-lotsa blankets and pillows and fluffy fluff

-if it’s because of nightmares,

-he will hold your hand

-if you ask really nice

-he might even lie down with you

-(I DIDNT REALIZE UNTIL I STARTED MAKING THIS HOW MUCH I HECKIN LOVE FLUFFY WILLIAM)

Grell-

-he’s probs why you’re sleep deprived

-night on the town

-doesnt realize how long you’ve been up until you start yawning

-a lot

-and he looks at his watch

-oh.

-tries to get you home asap

- no problem with pda

-will crawl into bed with you and just cuddle up

-and

-“Go to sleep. We’ll continue tomorrow i promise”

-you’d end up being like

-“Grell”

-“I cant sleep with you breathin on my neck like that home slice”

-he’d be low key offended

-But like

-takes your favorite pillow and dramatically makes himself at home on your floor

-ends up stealing your comforter too

-waits until you’re asleep until he falls asleep

-honestly doesn’t mind being on the floor if it means you’re asleep

-because

-the more sleep you get now

-the more fun you both can have later

Undertaker

-you’re just kinda

-chillin out

-in one of his coffins

-like reading or something

-and hes busy around the shop

-the book you’re reading is one of

those™️

-so good you can’t put it down

-you’ve probably been up two nights in a row and havent moved that was me reading order of the phoenix for the first time

- and he glances at you

-and notices the dark circles under your eyes

-and hes like

-“when’s the last time you slept, dearie?”

-you shrug and continue reading

-cardinal offense

-one of the things he takes seriously

-He walks over to you and like

-sits on your legs or something

-until you look at him

-and he’s like

-“The book can wait”

-cardinal offense

-“whaaat it’s almost the climax the tension is building up and i have to know what happens sleep can wait-“

-snatches the book out of your hands and marks your spot

-“the book. Can wait.”

-will lay on top of you to keep you from getting up and getting the book

-you finally give in because hes warm and you’re exhausted

Ronald-

-Notices the first night, and is like

-“hey, y/n? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

-and he watches you through the second day and the second night

-you’re working on something important, you wouldn’t stay up this long for something trivial

-it’s like the fifth night and he finally puts his foot down

-“y/n, wouldn’t you do a much better job if you didn’t torture your body?”

-at first is casual about it

-but when you argue about deadlines

-he’s like

-“The deaDLINE IS IN SIX DAYS”

-and finally

-he drags you to bed like maes hughes drags winry to his house

-tucks you in so tight that you cant move under the blankets

-you fall asleep a prisoner and hes happy and so are you because you know he cares

#shinigami #headcanon #kuroshitsuji #black butler #kuro headcanons #grell sutcliff #william spears #ronald knox #undertaker #fluffy #my Writing

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vanderlinde-moved · 7 years

Text

a bitter truth (part four)

Jyn escapes, Cassian receives a misson.

part one / part two / part three

read it on ao3!

“You aren’t looking too good, Hallik,” Dameron hisses between his teeth, pulling her into a nearby storage closet. Once the door is closed, he takes off his helmet and steadies her with both of his hands. His eyes are concerned; she doesn’t know why he cares. “What happened to you?”

“I was a–prisoner,” Jyn slurs, wavering slightly despite his grip. Her eyelids flutter, but she knows that she shouldn’t sleep right now, no matter how much she wants to. She can’t kill Krennic if she dies right now. “What d’you think hap’ens?”

“Shit,” he grits out, grasping her shoulders with two hands and shaking her slightly. She relishes the feel of his cool hands on her fevered skin. “You gotta stay awake, okay?”

“Mhmm,” Jyn agrees, her head dropping onto her chest. With great effort, she pulls it back up and tries to look Dameron in the eyes. She’s fine. Just a little tired. That’s all, it’s nothing to worry about. “Yeah. . .I gotta. . .do somethin’. Kill ‘im. Then I can. . .sleep. . .”

He looks alarmed at her comment, but still nods fervently, as if agreeing with her will somewhow keep her awake. “Yeah, that’s right. You have to kill someone. So you can’t go to sleep until you do that and after we rescue my crew, okay?”

Jyn narrows her eyes and manages to tell him, “‘m not a murderer. S’not why ‘m here anyway. It’s ‘cause ‘m a rebel. . . .Don’t tell anyone, though, ‘kay?”

(sure, she’s killed before, but almost always in self-defense. she’s not a murderer. but this? she’s going to repay krennic for all of pain he’s caused her.)

“Yeah, I figured,” he mutters. At this point, he’s practically holding her up. “New plan. You’re going to collapse at any minute now so I’m just going to. . .” he lowers her to the ground gently, leaning her up against the wall. “I’m going to see if I can rescue my team, okay? Then I’m coming back for you. But you can’t fall asleep. Just. . .ah, rest here for awhile.”

Jyn shakes her head slowly. Dameron’s figure is hazy above her and she has to squint to make him out, but she can barely see his face. “Don’t leave. People always leave and then never. . .they never come back.”

“I promise I’ll come back, Liana,” he says solemnly, placing a hand over his heart. It might be the fever (and if he asks, that’s what she’ll say) but that small gesture brings tears to Jyn’s eyes. “And I don’t break my promises.”

“‘kay,” Jyn replies, for lack of anything better to say. She’s getting tired anyway and doesn’t want to argue the issue anymore. If he doesn’t come back, then he’ll be just like everyone else who she’s let into her life.

(and if he does come back, then he’ll be like cassian.)

She watches Dameron put his helmet back on and hears the sound of the closet door opening and then shutting softly before her head drops forward and her eyes flutter closed.

She’s never been good at following orders anyway.

When Draven comms him with information about a potential mission, Cassian’s not technically cleared for duty yet. But it’s wartime, and he’s well enough, and the Rebellion needs every able bodied soldier they can get their hands on.

(able bodied is a relative term. physically, he’s on the mend and yet he can’t remember the last time he slept peacefully without drugs.)

The job itself is easy enough. Cassian knows he has Draven to thank for that; even though the General appears as cold and uncaring, the two of them share some sort of bond that’s almost familial. Even without saying anything, Cassian knows that Draven understands he’s still on the mend.

There’s nothing Draven can do, however, even if he wanted to. The Rebellion needs soldiers and that’s exactly what he is. Albeit a broken one, but a soldier nonetheless.

He’s been assigned as backup for one of the newer Intelligence recruits, which he hasn’t been placed as in a long time. If all goes well, he won’t even have to leave the ship, since he’ll be able to monitor the situation through comms and hourly reports.

Secretly he’s thankful, even though he knows that he can be doing more to help. His legs aren’t completely healed yet and this is the first mission he’s run in the past decade or so without Kay. Having a human partner who won’t be spouting out statistics left and right will be an adjustment, to say in the least.

His partner’s name is Private Ria Halos. He doesn’t know who she is, but he’s been out of commission for the past couple weeks so it doesn’t concern him as much as it normally would. While he normally knows majority of the faces in the Rebellion, he’s been stuck in the medbay ever since he broke out two weeks ago and hasn’t had the chance to watch the crowds as much as he usually does.

Besides the nurses, Shara had been his only company. She’d regaled him with her pilot stories and kept him up to date on the gossip. Neither of them talked about Kes. There hadn’t been a point in it, not when it’s clear that he’s not going to make it back to base.

Neither of them talked about how they were each other’s only family now either.

Still, Shara hadn’t mentioned there being a large crop of new recruits lately in their talks, though it’s entirely possible that this is one of her first missions for the Alliance. Her file did say she had risen through the ranks remarkably quickly. He’s going to have to be extra vigilant, then, if that’s the case, to make sure everything goes by the books. After all, one of his first missions had ended with him stealing and re-programming an Imperial droid.

(not like that had been a bad thing, though.)

With a sigh, he shoves the data pad containing the mission brief into his bag and heads for the hangar bay. He’s still limping; he tries not to let it show. The last thing he needs is to be sent back to the medical bay with a firm order to take it easy for a couple of days.

After all, the Alliance needs him. What good is he if he can’t help?

Jyn wakes to alarms. Again.

“Kriffing hell,” she mutters, then swears viciously in just about every language she knows before her stream of curse words breaks off into a coughing fit.

(he never came back.)

Her head pounds in time with her heartbeat and bile creeps up the back of her throat. She leans her head back against the wall and shuts her eyes, willing herself not to puke in an Imperial storage closet.

It doesn’t work.

Two seconds later, she’s on her hands and knees retching up what must have been her breakfast. She can’t remember eating it. It doesn’t matter, though. It’s not like it had been very much.

As soon as she’s wiping a hand over the back of her mouth and trying not to gag at the smell, the door cracks open and a figure slips inside. Jyn struggles to get to her feet but the person beats her to it, helping her up. With a start, she realizes that it’s Dameron. He’s no longer wearing the stormtrooper armor, but instead an Imperial uniform that looks too much like the one Cassian wore on Scarif.

(that memory alone is enough to make her stomach churn with nausea again.)

“We need to go,” he says urgently, pushing her forward. She places one hand on her forehead, wincing at how her head throbs in time with the alarms. “Now, Hallik.”

“What hap’ened?” she responds after a couple of beats. Her feet aren’t moving like they’re supposed to and she falls backwards, only being held up by Dameron’s eyes. Her head really hurts and she’s really hot. Suddenly the prison uniform she’s wearing feels like too many clothes. She needs to take it off. “It’s so–hot. Why’s it so. . hot?”

Dameron swears, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. For some reason, he looks distressed at the sight of her. Jyn figures it’s probably because it’s been a couple weeks since she'd last showered. She certainly feels disgusting. “Listen, I kriffed up. We need to go and you won’t make it out of here walking. Can I carry you?”

“You gotta. . .take me out f’. . .a drink first. . .” she mumbles, closing her eyes and swaying slightly. The last thing she needs is to be carried through a Star Destroyer. She’s fine. Just give her a blaster and she’ll be fine. “I can. . .I can walk. . .”

He makes a noise of disagreement, then bends down to pick her up. But he doesn’t grab her bridal style like she had expected. Instead, he hoists her over his shoulder, keeping a firm grip on her legs. “Sorry,” he grunts, once they’re out in the hallway. Every step he takes jostles her against his back. “I need one hand on my blaster.”

“S’not okay,” Jyn mutters against his shirt, letting her arms hang above her head uselessly. Despite her words, she’s too tired to fight him right now. Later, though. She’s going to fight him later. “Put me down.”

“No can do,” he replies, tightening his hold on her as he turns a corner. As Dameron picks up his pace into an unsteady job, Jyn groans, the motion making her dizzy. “Shit –don’t puke on me! We’re almost there, I promise!”

In need of a distraction, she gasps out, “Why. . .why are th’ alarms goin’ off again?”

His fingers dig into her calves. “I made a mistake,” he grits out after a moment’s hesitation, clearly not wanting to talk about it, “and got my team killed.”

Cassian falling down the data tower plays over and over in her head. She knows all too well how he feels.

(she should have gone back for him.)

A squad of stormtroopers is coming down the hallway to her left; she can hear the sound of their boots pounding on the steel floor. When she tells Dameron as much, he only picks up his pace and heads toward the nearby room. Pulling out a keycard from his pocket, he swipes it through the lock and darts into the room. “Perks of stealing an officer’s uniform.”

The room they’re in look like barracks. There’s a set of bunk beds pushed in the corner and he sets Jyn down on the bottom one gently. She puts her head in her hands and tries to stop the room from spinning while he pauses to catch his breath.

“We’re almost there,” he says finally, shooting a look at the door. She can’t hear the stormtroopers anymore, but she’s not so foolish to believe they’re gone. “I managed to find the hangar bay before coming back for you.”

“That was–too close out there,” she manages, wrapping one arm around her stomach. She can feel her wound burning through the thin material of her shirt. “You should go. I. . .have t’ do somethin’ here.”

(something she should have done on the top of the data tower, injuries be damned.)

“You’re crazy. Really? You think I’m just going to leave you behind after I left about ten of my men to the mercy of the Empire?”

“Not your fault.”

“I don’t care,” Dameron snaps, pacing away from her and throwing his hands up in the air. “Those were my men, under my control. I left them to die because there–there–”

Jyn fills in the rest for him, knowing exactly what he’s going to say. “There wasn’t anything. . .” a pause, a rattling breath, “anythin’ you could have done to save them.”

He levels her with his gaze. “And that’s exactly why I can’t leave you behind. Well, I wouldn’t either way, but. You get what I mean.”

Jyn shakes her head and tries to stand up, gripping the metal bed frame for support. “Listen, I have to do something. I gotta. . .” her vision tunnels, then clears once again. “I have to kill Krennic, okay?”

Dameron gapes. She juts her chin up defiantly and stares him down.

He breaks first. “You’re not serious, are you? Force, you’re serious. Are you kidding me, Hallik? How the kriff are you going to kill a high level Imperial officer and make it out of here alive?”

“It’s Jyn,” she says evenly. She figures he ought to know her name if she’s going to die on this ship. And he hadn’t left her behind, which counts for–something. At his look of confusion, she adds, “My name's Jyn. And I don’t need t' make it out of here alive. I just. . .I just need him dead.”

“Liana–Jyn. I’m not leaving you behind so you can go off and kill someone!” he snaps. “My whole team is dead. If I can’t get them out, then I can at least rescue you.”

“I’m not. . .going with you,” she grits out, crossing her arms over her chest. Her strength wavers; she’s been standing up too long but she’s not going to back down. “I’m killing him, Dameron. Kes–” her voice cracks, “I need to.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. In one fluid movement, he bends down to pick her up and toss her over his shoulder. “No, we’re getting out of here alive. I’m not going to let you die!”

Jyn struggles in his grip, but her vision is growing darker and darker. She’s so hot again all of the sudden. Even as she grows weaker and her eyelids flutter closed, she fights, beating her fists against his back. “Kes, please. . .”

As she falls into unconsciousness, she thinks she hears him whisper, “I’m sorry, Jyn. I really am.”

“Private?”

“Captain Andor, sir,” Halos salutes, all business. “We should be ready to leave as soon as you are, sir. I’m just finishing up the preflight checks.”

Cassian nods, dropping his bag off in a corner of the cargo bay and heading up front to the cockpit. Halos follows him. It takes some effort to climb up the ladder with his leg, but he (barely) manages. To hide his lack of breath, Cassian asks, “Any trouble?”

“No, sir. Everything looks good.”

He checks over the controls himself, just to make sure. When he’s satisfied with her work, he gives her a sharp nod that has her ducking her head to hide a smile. Cassian pretends not to see, busying himself with the controls. “Strap in then, Private.”

“Yes, sir,” she says, heading back to the cargo bay. He’s both relieved and disappointed when she doesn’t sit in the copilot’s chair.

(jyn had tried to sit there once, on the way to jedha. when kay had returned from checking over the engine and she refused to get out of his seat, he sat on top of her and pretended she wasn’t there.

cassian had hidden his laughter until she left with a disgruntled look on her face. he, unlike kay, hadn’t wanted to risk jyn’s ire, especially not when she still had his blaster.

“what?” kay had asked petulantly, his head swiveling in his direction. “she was in my seat.” )

“This is Captain Cassian Andor, requesting permission for takeoff,” he says into his headset, typing in coordinates for Dantooine on the flight computer. If all goes well, they should be on planet in about four hours.

“You’re good to go, Captain Andor. May the Force be with you.”

Takeoff is a little bumpier than he would have liked. He’s not fully used to doing this all by himself; this is the first time he’s piloted a ship in a long time without a partner.

(without kay.)

Once the ship’s safely on autopilot, he climbs down the ladder back into the cargo bay where Halos is sitting. She has a data pad in her hands and is looking over it attentively. Cassian itches to do the same, but he’s only on backup. This is her mission. All he has to do is monitor the situation and fly the getaway shuttle. “We should be arriving at about 0500 hours. Get some rest if you can.”

“Will do, sir,” she say as he grabs his bag off the floor and heads into the crew cabins. But by the way she’s pouring over the mission brief, he doubts that she will. He doesn’t think that he will either, but his leg is aching and it can’t hurt to lay down for an hour or two.

When he goes through his bag to grab his data pad, he finds his blaster underneath. For a second, he’s confused. Hadn’t she taken it–

Then he remembers.

The third time Jyn wakes, it’s blissfully silent except for the thrum of a ship underneath her. It takes her a couple of seconds to remember what happened. This must be the ship Kes managed to steal.

A small groan of pain slips through her lips before she can stop it as she struggles to open her eyes and Kes is at her side in an instant, concern in his eyes. “Don’t move–you’re burning up. The wound on your stomach–”

His face twists and she knows that whatever’s wrong with it can’t be good. Guess the Empire’s medical supplies hadn’t done as much for her as she thought they had. “How. . .bad?”

“It reopened while I was trying to get us out. I set you down and suddenly–" he laughs uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck, "there's blood all over the back of my shirt and the front of yours. I think it's infected, too,” he tells her as he crouches down next to her. He smoothes a piece of sweat soaked hair off of her forehead. The cool of his hand relieves some of the tension threatening to break out of her skull. “There’s not enough medical supplies on board to treat you properly, so I need you to hold on, okay? We’re almost there.”

“Where?”

Kes looks away guiltily. “The Rebellion base. They don’t know that you’re here, only that we need a medical team as soon as we land. I didn’t want them turning you away so, ah, maybe act as trustworthy as possible? It’s technically not allowed for me to do this.”

(while she likes to believe that the rebellion wouldn’t turn her away, she doesn’t know what they think of her going rogue and her father’s crimes against the galaxy. maybe they would, without cassian there to welcome her home.)

“Why–” She tries to ask, but her throat is dry and it turns into a coughing fit. Kes makes soothing noises as he turns her head to the side and rubs her back. She can taste blood in the back of her mouth but she doesn’t know why.

“That’s it,” he murmurs as her coughing subsides. She clings to his voice, trying not to fall back into blackness. “You’re all right, Jyn. Just get some rest. We’ll be there soon.”

“Why. . .” Her voice trails off, but he seems to understand anyway.

“I have a good feeling about you,” Kes replies after a couple seconds of hesitation. “I don’t know why, but you just–you remind me of a friend. You’re nothing alike, but he’s a brother to me. I don’t know, it’s stupid but–”

“S’not stupid,” she slurs, eyes fluttering closed. She thinks she’d like to meet this friend of his, especially one Kes speaks so highly about.

“We’re almost there. Hold on a little longer, okay?”

Jyn sleeps.

As soon as they land on Dantooine, Cassian starts to get a bad feeling.

But he brushes it off, telling himself not to worry. This is a fairly simple mission and Halos seems capable enough. The only reason he’s worried, he thinks, is because of how wrong it had all gone on Scarif.

He sees Halos off, making sure her comms are secure. As she leaves, he lingers in the doorway of the shuttle, watching her silhouette disappear over the horizon and into the nearby city. For some reason, it feels as if he’s never going to see her again.

At that thought, he scoffs and heads back into the ship, climbing up to the cockpit. He knows that he’s being ridiculous.

(a few hours later, when everything’s gone to hell, cassian realizes that he should have listened to his gut.)

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