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writer-in-theory · 2 years

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No Time to Die — steddie.

Summary: In which Steve doesn’t want his bat-inflicted injuries to distract from the mission. Prompt: Blood Loss Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: T Category: Hurt/Comfort Content Warnings: Minor language, Blood loss, Canon-typical violence Word Count: 2.6k

Whumptober Masterlist // Read on Ao3

Steve, Tommy, and Carol had discussed the worst ways to die, once. It’d been one of the late nights they’d all spent laying on top of the Harrington house roof, drinking beer and coming down from the adrenaline of another high school party. The entire town of Hawkins was quiet by now—even the other partygoers had long since passed out to sleep away the alcohol. It was peaceful in a way that the Steve from back then hadn’t often got to experience.

When they’d all started to sober up, just on the wrong end of maybe hungover, dull in an almost achy way, Tommy brought it up. “What’s the worst way to go out?”

“Tommy, come on,” Carol scoffed, “that’s gross.”

“Fire,” Steve answered automatically, turning his head to look at the boy laying between him and Carol. “It has to be fire.”

“Most people don’t die from the fire though,” Carol piped up, always the smartest of the group. She was the one who’d kept them out of trouble, stopping the boys from the truly ridiculous ideas that could’ve had worse consequences than detention with Mr. Kaminski. “It’s the smoke. And you know, that wouldn’t be the worst.”

“Yeah? What’s the worst then, smarty pants?” Tommy snapped, though the smile and nudge of her arm with his elbow clued all of them in. That was just how they’d been with one another, teasing and harsh instead of anything truly vulnerable.

“Being eaten alive, obviously. It’s slow, and you know what’s happening and you’re completely powerless to stop it.”

Steve had laughed it off back then, saying something about how that could hardly count because that didn’t happen to people anymore. If he made it out of the Upside Down now though, the first thing he’d do would be apologize to Carol Perkins for ever doubting her expertise.

Because being eaten alive by interdimensional bats? That fucking blew.

Death wasn’t a faraway concept to Steve, it hadn’t been since that night he’d tried to apologize to his girlfriend and instead ended up fighting a seven foot tall monster from Hell with nothing but a bat. He’d truly thought he would die a year later, when he’d offered himself up as bait to the mini-versions of said monster, simply because he couldn’t let a bunch of middle schoolers be braver than him. It had felt silly at first, ridiculous even, but by the time that night had been over death seemed like a far better option than ever seeing one of those kids hurt.

No, Steve Harrington and Death were old friends, well-known acquaintances who were bound to meet again someday.

So maybe this was it, maybe Steve was always destined to die on the ground of the Upside Down, ending it all in the same way he’d spent his life: alone. Gasping for breath around the bat’s oddly strong fleshy tail felt a far too familiar feeling after the months he’d spent choking on his guilt for all the harm he’d done in high school. They were just stupid kids back then, Steve often tried to remind himself, but looking at Henderson and his band of merry dorks shut down that idea every time. They knew better, and they were far younger than Steve had been when he’d figured it out.

Still, Steve didn’t think he’d been terrible enough to warrant the bites. The bats’ jaws were strangely strong for their size, tearing pieces of him away like it was nothing major. And Carol had been right—all he could do was kick his feet, tug at the tails holding him down and watch as they tore at him until there was nothing left. There was nothing else to do.

But then Nancy Wheeler in all her glory came to his rescue, immediately knocking one of the bats away with a boat paddle. Even Robin and Eddie had shown up, fighting off the bats and keeping them away long enough that Steve could dislodge the one around his throat. It was barely in time too—the dark spots and flickering sparkles in his vision didn’t fade until well after the fight was over, Steve’s chest still heaving for breath.

And oh, did even one single breath sting. Every moment reignited the fire shoved under his skin by bat fangs, intent on razing him to the ground. Steve might’ve gone with it, too, collapsing into a heap like every signal in his brain screamed for him to. But Eddie, Nancy, and Robin had followed him down there, had risked their lives simply to save him. There was no possible future where he didn’t help them find a way out, not if he wanted to make any of this matter at all. Since he’d met Death, Steve had always imagined he’d go out protecting the group. It was what he was good at, placing his body between danger and the people who could really save the day. He could take the hits, the devastating blows that would otherwise send any normal person to the ground in agony. He could take this—the muscle fibers screaming from where they were disconnected from each other, the blood seeping his sweatpants and taking all of his energy with it, the unshakeable knowledge that if they didn’t make it out of the Upside Down soon this would become his final resting place. This was what he was built for: to take it.

So when Nancy asked if he was okay, the obvious answer was a joke. He brushed it off, keeping his eyes firmly away from his injuries knowing the second a spot of blood reached his vision it’d be over. There was plausible deniability now, some level of unknowing that protected him from knowing the truth of just how much of himself was left behind near the lake portal.

Every step burned, but to stop would mean to give up. Resting may mean not being able to stand back up, so Steve pressed on (albeit at the back of the group, trailing a little further than what he’d normally be comfortable with). But every movement grew more difficult than the last as his feet began to weigh down with the bone deep exhaustion beginning to set in. The dark spots at the edge of his vision had never quite gone away, always lingering like a reminder of what was to come.

This was by far the worst way to go out, just waiting for the inevitable to happen.

No, he needed a distraction. And though the idea of talking to Eddie Munson scared him a little—because honestly, Steve might believe the Satanic ritual stuff considering the way he’d felt enraptured by the guy even with a broken bottle to his neck—he pushed to catch up to him, seeing Robin and Nancy already far ahead of them.

“Eddie?”

He turned, expression giving away his own surprise at the conversation starter. Steve could practically see the thoughts plastering themselves right there on Eddie’s face: why would Steve Harrington be bothering him now? What could someone like Harrington ever have to say to him?

It was easier to focus on his feet avoiding vines on the ground than to look at Eddie’s startled face. “Eddie. Hey, man, uh...I just wanted to say thanks. For saving my ass back there.”

Why was he so awkward around him? Steve Harrington had always been able to talk to anyone at anytime. Even as a kid his mom used to have to hold him back from talking to random people in town, simply enjoying the conversation and attention. He could charm any girl he wanted (or rather, he used to, before demodogs and babysitter jobs) and yet he couldn’t manage one single sentence to Eddie Munson...not that he was trying to charm Munson. Never.

“Shit,” Eddie breathed out, shoulders rolling back like he was as uncomfortable with the conversation as Steve was. “You saved your own ass, man.”

Then Eddie was talking about bats and Ozzys and being metal, and none of it really made sense over the waves crashing around in Steve’s ears, but he liked the way Eddie got excited about it. There weren’t too many times since Chrissy that he’d been this animated without the fear, simply talking about things he enjoyed. And sure, Steve didn’t understand a lick of it but he did understand the way Eddie’s shoulders finally relaxed, the way he opened up to talk about Henderson, of all people.

And God, Steve would miss that kid.

He was glad that Henderson had Eddie, after all. At first it had stung, hearing all about this cool totally metal guy who was everything Dustin ever wanted to be. When he’d ditched the hairspray routine for weird scratchy tees for a club Steve didn’t even know existed. But now, feeling the exhaustion creeping through his veins and replacing the blood still steadily leaking through the haphazard bandages around his abdomen, it only sent peace surging through him. Henderson would be okay, if things didn’t turn out how Steve wanted them to. It’d be nice to make it out of the Upside Down, sure, but if he didn’t, if this was the sacrifice that had to be taken so the others didn’t have to spend any more time at risk in Vecna’s home base, then he’d take it.

“Harrington? Hey, Harrington, you good, man?” The sound was coming from the distant left, so far under the current that Steve was sure whoever said it must’ve been drowning in all the water. Steve tried to turn his head, but in doing so his vision went with it, tilting and whirling until the stinging burns on his shoulder blades collided with the forest floor, ripping every last breath out of his chest. “Steve!”

“What happened? What—Shit, Harrington, you gotta tell us when...” The words washed away, flowing out to sea with the rest of Steve’s body. There was nothing left but the odd red lightning piercing through his consciousness, keeping him pinned down while hands worked, poked, prodded.

It was easier like this, floating off while someone took on the responsibility he once bore. When Steve was in middle school, they’d been forced to read a short story about some guy who held up the entire world on his shoulders. It seemed a little silly back then, Steve had never understood why the man would’ve taken on that much pressure in the first place. But now, floating atop the world Steve understood. The pressure didn’t come all at once—tiny ounces were tossed onto the pile until the weight was overbearing, crushing, stifling and there was no way to set any of it down without toppling the whole thing.

“C’mon, Harrington, work with me here, give me something...”

The waves were better than the all-consuming fire. The burns were salved under the gentle rocking of the sea. Steve had never seen the sea—his parents took a trip to South Carolina every year but he hadn’t been able to go first because of sports and then because of silly jobs with his best friend, his most platonic soulmate.

“Steve, I’ll never forgive you if...”

Oh, he’d missed that voice. He would miss Robin too much here, where not even he existed. He’d miss the laughter, the easy way of prodding at each other without ever really poking at anything that ached and scarred over. She was the first person who taught him there was a version of love that wasn’t romantic, that people needed people and it wasn’t too much to ask for as much.

“Apply pressure on the...We need to get him out of....”

Nancy. Steve’s first love, his first heartbreak, the first person who made him feel like he could do anything. He still loved her, though not in the way he once did. This was more steady, like coasting down a gentle river instead of the hurricane they’d tried to navigate from the start. She was easily one of the most impressive people Steve would ever meet. She would be okay without him, but did he really want to make her lose another person to this place? He’d seen her after those dreams, when she’d cried out for Barb who was left to rest here, just like Steve would be if he d—

“It’s not funny, Harrington,” another voice, surer, stronger over the water filling Steve’s head. “You can’t let me know what a great fuckin’ guy you are and then disappear. Real dick move, man.”

Eddie sounded panicked, upset. Eddie Munson was upset about possibly losing him, Steve Harrington. What a thought that was.

Steve didn’t want Eddie to be upset. He wanted to know what it felt like to be one of those things that Eddie could talk about excitedly, he wanted to see that smile more. There were so many things he wanted to do, so many things he wanted to know about Eddie and this couldn’t stop here. It couldn’t be the end, not when there was so much good that could happen. There was still so much to experience.

So Steve fought to find his body amongst the water. It was hard to move, to breathe, but slowly, inch by inch feeling returned until the water was evaporated by the sudden reignition of all the fire he thought had been stifled out.

It burned to be alive. But oh, would Steve take the agony for the relieved cheers and gasps the people around him made at the sight of his eyes opening. He wasn’t out of the woods yet (literally or figuratively), but he was there, alive, being hugged by three people he hadn’t even expected to follow him into this place at all. They hadn’t left him behind, hadn’t left him to drown.

“Why’s everyone just sitting around? We have the world to save,” Steve joked weakly, eyes drawn to the worried brown eyes hovering over to his left. “Sorry.”

Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes without any real mirth in them. In fact he was even smiling a little, and damn what wouldn’t Steve do to see that kind of fondness shined down on him again? He can’t have imagined that look in Eddie’s eyes, the same that must have reflected in Steve when he’d considered all the potential they’d almost lost to bat bites and the ocean. “He tries to die on us and he apologizes. Typical Harrington move.”

“You know me,” Steve says, waving off Robin’s hands as he moves to sit up, noticing the much thicker and tighter wraps around his abdomen. “I’ll be fine until we find a way to get back. Promise.”

“We’ll go slow,” Robin says, “You have to tell us when you need a break, you can’t just go on all macho thinking it’ll be fine because-”

“Robin.” Nothing but adoration for his best friend (and maybe lingering, pure exhaustion) was held in his eyes. “I’ll be careful.”

“Good,” she answered, knocking away the leftover tears on her face when she was sure Steve wasn’t looking. “You scare us like that again I’ll never forgive you, Dingus.”

“Noted.” And he did, really.

It wasn’t easy letting Eddie and Nancy help him to his feet, nor was it admitting when he needed to stop walking because he was dizzy again. It was actually purely Hell trying to navigate the Upside Down like this, but Steve was nothing if not a fighter. And well, his favorite people needed him, and that was enough to keep him going.

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#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington whump #whumptober #stranger things #whump in february #jay writes in theory

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the-bugs-under-ur-skin · 3 years

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Yandere Kel, Sunny, Basil, and Hero reacting to an injured S/O Hcs - Omori

(these were shorter than usual, but they were fun to write. thanks for requesting!)

[yandere Kel x reader]

-if you injured yourself, Kel would initially panic

-he’d immediately try to bring you back to his house to clean you up

-he’d tear up and beg you to be more careful, even if it was just a small scratch

-if someone else injured you, Kel would be livid

-if they did it on purpose, he’d scream at the top of his lungs, and would even throw a rock or his ball at him

-if it was an accident, he’d still be angry but wouldn’t take it out on them as much

-he would glare at them and give them a short lecture and then he would try to get you home safely

-the entire walk to his house, he’d ask if you were okay, or try to add some optimism in the chat

-Kel would patch up you’re wound the best he can, even though he’s not the best at it

-if you bleed, then he’d ask his mom to help clean the wound

-he would probably patch you up with colorful and childish band-aids

-until you fully heal, he’d ask you every day if you’re in pain, and would call you before he goes to sleep to check on you too

-if you’re injury got you in the hospital, Kel definitely wouldn’t leave you side

-he’d guard the hospital room, and wouldn’t let anyone (except your family) into the room

-no matter how terrible the injury is, he’d get more protective over you

-Kel would take the role as you’re knight way too seriously, making sure to flex his muscles whenever someone new comes to talk to you

-it felt like a warning sign to Kel, that the next time you get hurt it’s going to be much worse

-he’d make sure to never let you get hurt like that again, even if that means he has to push a few boundaries...

[yandere Hero x reader]

-if you injured yourself, Hero would be quick to help you

-he’ll give you a short lecture about you’re safety and will immediately label you as clumsy

-he’ll almost never take his eyes off you, just in case you accidentally hurt yourself again

-you might also notice some of the stuff in your house being less sharp than usual...

-if someone else injured you, Hero would lose his cool

-if it was an accident, he’ll just stare at them with a very agitated look on his face

-there’s so many awful things he wants to say, but he doesn’t want you to be upset because he threatened an innocent person

-he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about how upset he is with them, which makes him feel guilty because he knows they didn’t mean to

-he’ll just make sure that person leaves as quickly as possible so the both of you can just forget about them

-if someone hurts you on purpose, Hero wouldn’t hesitate to try and intimidate them

-he’s a big dude, and could scare off anyone if he needed to

-if the person persisted, he would give them a swift punch to the jaw and tell them off

-after everything gets sorted, Hero would help you get to a bench or a building so he can take care of the wound as fast as he can

-he always keeps bandages and cloths on him just in case you do get hurt

-he’s good at taking care of you but he definitely over does it

-even if it’s just a scratch, he wouldn’t let you do anything until it’s healed

-if you end up in the hospital, Hero won’t let you do anything for the rest of your life

-he gets scared for your life even if you just walk

-he’ll stay by your side the entire time you’re in the hospital, and he’ll be there even when you leave

-he gets extremely weary of new people, and honestly he’s weary of the people who were in your life before too

-the moment you get injured to the point you bleed, Hero will constantly worry about your safety anytime you’re not in his sight

-he’ll need constant reassurance that you can actually do tasks by yourself

-he just doesn’t ever want you to be in pain and if stick around and keep him close, you won’t have to

[yandere Sunny x reader]

-*knife sounds*

-if you injured yourself, Sunny will get a little upset but still be able to keep his calm

-he’d walk you to the pharmacy

-at first, he’d probably just try to go in by himself, wanting you to wait outside and rest

-but he’d end up getting really confused and either sit outside of the store with you and look it up or text you what you think is best

-he will start to think of you as clumsy, and he’ll start unconsciously holding your hand more often to try to keep you from getting hurt

-if someone else injured you, Sunny will immediately act on rage

-i really don’t think it would matter too much whether they did it on purpose or not, all Sunny cares about is what ended up happening to you

-the person will definitely walk away with some wounds

-he’ll look at your injury for the rest of the day, only thinking about what that person did to you

-he wouldn’t go to the pharmacy and instead he’ll lead you straight to his house, deciding it would be better to treat the wound with less people around

-he’s not good at taking care of others (he’s not even good at taking care of himself), but he’ll do whatever you want him to do

-he’ll automatically trust whatever you say, just wanting you to be comfortable

-if you don’t mind or if you get a scar, he’ll end up holding onto that spot on you or tracing along the lines of the wound

-if you end up in the hospital, Sunny will end up hurting someone

-even if no one hurt you, he’d just be so upset that he had to take it out on someone

-i think he’d just be upset that he let you get that badly injured on his watch

-after you get out, he’ll wrap his arms around your entire body

-it’s his way of saying he’ll stop you from getting hurt again

-Sunny will only think you’re clumsy afterwards and will constantly linger behind you, thinking himself as your body guard

-even months after you got out, anytime you do anything remotely dangerous, he’ll remind you of the incident and pull you back to safety

-he’ll slowly get more and more clingy and controlling over you

-but it’s always going to be for your safety, of course

(all the basil sprites are so small 😔)

[yandere Basil x reader]

-if you injured yourself, Basil would freeze in shock

-especially if it was just the two of you because Basil’s guard would be down, he didn’t expect you to be a danger to yourself!

-he’d snap out of it quickly though, and he’d frantically bring you both down to the floor to see if you’re okay

-he’d be hesitant to let you work with sharp things, and he might also constantly check your shoes to see if they’re tied

-you can try to convince him, but he’ll just keeps saying “umm... i’m not so sure...” and might even get teary-eyed

-if someone else hurt you, Basil would try his best to get you and him out of there

-Basil isn’t very strong and doesn’t have much courage, so he couldn’t do much to protect you

-if he sees you’re really in trouble he might yell out a small “stop!” but it probably wouldn’t do much

-once it’s over, he’ll just hold onto you and cry

-he’d ask if you okay and then cry our many apologies

-Basil would bring you straight home (either your house or his, he doesn’t mind)

-he’d be pretty decent at patching you up, if it weren’t for how shaky his hands were

-he’d definitely use this as leverage to keep you inside constantly

-even if you weren’t shaken up by the incident, he certainly was

-and he’d make it pretty clear how he felt, wanting you to take pity on him

-if you end up in the hospital, Basil would completely lose his mind

-he feels worthless in that moment, realizing that he couldn’t help you if he tried

-he’d desperately want to get to your hospital room

-all he wants is to see you and make sure that you’re actually okay

-if he wasn’t allowed to be in the room or if you didn’t want him there, he’d be very obedient but wait outside the room until you both can be together again

-it’s moment like these that make him want to just want to lock you up in his arms and never let go, but he knows he can’t

-instead, he’ll always be one step behind you, guiding you to more secluded and safe areas in town so you don’t get hurt again

-however, he wouldn’t be able to take another scare like this

-so try not to land yourself in another hospital room again, okay?

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere hcs #yandere headcanons #omori #omori x reader #yandere omori #yandere omori x reader #yandere kel #kel x reader #yandere hero #hero x reader #yandere sunny #sunny x reader #yandere basil #basil x reader

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transformersheadcanons · 4 years

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Decepticons as cats (Part 1)

Adopting them

Megatron

He was surrendered to a shelter after being found in an alleyway with numerous injuries. He was probably used as a bait cat, or was fighting other strays. No one wanted to adopt him, because he was “scary looking”. You eventually came into the shelter to adopt a cat. That’s where Megatron caught your attention. He was staring right at you through his cage, tail swishing back and forth. As you approached him, he let out a warning hiss and backed up into the cage. When you got close enough, he tried to scratch you, but it was pointless because the vets had to put claw caps on his paws to keep him from scratching everyone. So, an idea came to your head. You turned away from him and started checking out the other cats, while also making sure to stay in his line of sight. Sure enough, Megatron was close to the door of his cage, and was watching you curiously. What happened? Why weren’t you paying any attention to him anymore? He started pawing at the cage, meowing loudly to get your attention again. Bingo. You turned back around and saw that he was actively trying to get the door open. After about an hour, you were walking down the street, carrying him in a cat carrier, as he just laid in there contently, happy that he was finally out of that dreaded shelter.

Starscream

He was born with two younger brothers, but despite being the oldest out of the litter, he was also the runt. Which meant that he had to be looked after the most since almost all runts were abandoned by their mothers. Unlike Megatron who was from a shelter, Screamer was from an actual breeder who specialized in Bombay cats. He and his siblings were nothing like their parents, however. Starscream had a coat that was mostly shades of grey with a single natural red streak on his head. Because of this, he wasn’t very sought after due to not being considered a pure-bred. He was the second one to be adopted by you. He was a little nervous at first, mostly due to worrying that he wouldn’t be up to your standards. But his brothers would immediately run away when anyone would come up to them if they weren’t their usual handler. You looked towards Starscream, and started to try and coax him over towards you. Hmm. You didn’t seem to be dangerous.... Starscream slowly approached you, keeping his body as close to the ground as possible in case he needed to flee. He cautiously sniffed at your outstretched hand, before gradually rubbing against it, purring softly. So you knew he was a keeper. Unfortunately, when you brought him home and introduced him to Megatron, he kinda got off the wrong paw with the bigger cat and not a minute later, Megatron grew angry with his antics and bit him on the tail. Starscream was quick to flee, and you found him underneath your bed, shaking and his fur puffed up to maximum fluff-itude in fear.

Knockout

Knockout was bred as a show cat. He's a 100% purebred American Shorthair cat. His breeder told you that once he gets older, he was going to have a luxurious coat like his mother and father. He parades around your house like the little prince he is, which annoys Starscream while Megatron is a little more indifferent. He is very picky with his food, and even more picky when it comes to grooming standards. He will automatically tell you what he hates and what he likes. Also, during the day, his preferred napping spot is by a window, where the sun hits him perfectly.

Breakdown

Okay, so unlike the others, Breakdown was given to you by a family member due to their apartment(or dorm, etc.) not allowing pets. They wanted Breakdown to be taken care of by someone trustworthy, and figured you'd be perfect for the task. Breakdown is speculated to be half Maine Coon and Ragdoll because of how big he is. But he's not as big as Megatron who is a Norwegian forest cat. He warms up to Knockout the fastest, is somewhat intimidated by Megatron, and finds Starscream to be somewhat amusing to look at. You often have to brush him at least three times a day, because of how fluffy he is.

Shockwave and Soundwave

Shockwave and Soundwave were both rescues. Shockwave had suffered from a traumatic eye injury which required for him to get surgery, thus leaving him with one eye. Soundwave...well, the poor kitty has to keep a mask on his face at all times because what his previous owners did to him was far...far worse. His face is so terribly scarred, but luckily he was able to function properly. These two are inseprable and only trust eachother. Soundwave tried to interact with the other Decepticats, but...Starscream would walk away, Knockout would run, and Megatron honestly scares him. So you and Shockwave are the only ones to really keep him company.

#transformers prime #transformers #tfp knockout #tfp breakdown #Megatron #Starscream #Shockwave #Soundwave #decepticons x reader #transformers headcanon

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allmightluver · 3 years

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So, what is your take on the EM relationship? Who was the one to fall first and confess? Please support your speculations/opinions with canonical evident, if you'd like 😏 (BECAUSE YOU'RE SO DAMN GOOD AT IT ❤️) Thank you for your time 🙏

Oh goodness

You really want me to go all out huh Kunshi 😏

Well, I’ll try to summarize this as best I can ***(This may have some spoilers so be warned)**

The relationship between All Might and Eraserhead has been quite the journey. You can say, frenemies to “hey you’re not so bad”. They’ve known of each other for years, before the present timeline. Here in Vigilante’s, Eraserhead tells Tsukauchi that the situation they’re in is so dire, they need the Number 1. Aizawa acknowledges how powerful All Might is, despite disapproving of how handles media and fame.

But they didn’t really know each other until All Might started at UA.

Aizawa believed Yagi to be reckless, irresponsible, and foolish in taking a job he has no training for. Not to mention the obvious favoritism. Yagi believed Aizawa to be too harsh and cold hearted on the children. Though as the two got to know each other, and went through traumatic events together (USJ and Kamino), they started to warm up more to each other, actually taking the time to get to know one another.

All Might rushes to an injured Aizawa’s side, and the sight of how broken, bloodied and damaged his co-worker is visibly upsets him. The way Toshinori’s voice softens as he apologizes to Aizawa, unclear if it’s out loud or in his mind. Toshinori probably feels terrible whenever anyone’s been injured, but he seems particularly held up over Aizawa, most likely because he himself couldn’t be there when it happened. He was of being a hero all morning, and wasted all his time in his muscle form, so he wasn’t there with them like he should have been. Which meant Aizawa and (Thirteen) had to fight to protect the students, even if they were clearly unmatched. They were both badly injured in the process, all because Toshinori wasn’t there.

Then after the fight, Toshinori cuts his friend, Tsukauchi, off and asks how Aizawa, wait, Eraserhead, is doing. Oh and Thirteen too. He was relieved to find he they were alright.

When Kamino hit we see how intently Aizawa watches the news, watches All Might, watches Toshinori. He was clearly concerned, and in seeing AFO summon his many quirks in order to eliminate All Might once and for all, Aizawa’s concern only grows. And for good reason.

As an after effect, the students needed to move into dorms. Aizawa and Toshinori are paired together to speak to 1A’s students. It’s in the car that Aizawa, awkwardly, offers to buy Toshinori a drink. To which Toshinori politely declines, as he can’t drink. (*face palm*)

However, after dealing with Bakugo’s...different family, Toshinori nudges Aizawa with an elbow his injured arm no less, and whispers that he now owes Aizawa a drink.

Dunno about you, but I’d have to be pretty comfortable with someone before I’m close enough to nudge them and whisper secrets. And Toshinori is always seeking to know Aizawa better, be closer, impress him.

They even go out on a date to get a drink together. Toshinori’s inner dialogue is the most interesting, from “I’m going to be even better friends with Aizawa-kun...!” to “All Might, you just gotta push past the walls of Aizawa-kun’s heart!” ...uh huh. To which Mic and Midnight totally crash their “Secret Dinner Outing” and invite themselves to stay, much to Toshinori’s (”Or on second thought...probably not then.”) and Aizawa’s despair (”Go home!” x3). Get outta here, you’re ruining our date! And after Toshinori takes his leave, Aizawa chases him down outside to say....? “Thank you very much. I’m drunk right now so I probably wouldn’t say this if I wasn’t. But because you fought at Kamino and took down AFO for us, I’ll do my part and look after the students as much as I can. That’s why I want to thank you for everything.” To which after a silence, Toshinori responds with, “Aizawa-kun, let’s watch over the students from here on out together.” ...to which Aizawa mentions he won’t remember any of this and to never bring it up ever again. (*repeat face palm*)

This only proves they’re becoming much, much, closer. They’ve gone beyond plus ultra frenemies and onto true friends. They take each other’s words and thoughts into account in a serious manner, like how Yagi managed to convince Aizawa to let him go to Bakugo and Midoriya when they snuck out, as well as going easy on punishment for them.

Aizawa’s also shown growing concern for Toshinori after his retirement. Firstly from seeing Toshinori out and about so soon after Kamino while he was still recovering from his injuries. And on the occasion a falling rock nearly connects to Toshinori’s head, you can see how quickly Aizawa reacts. The way you can almost see a flashback of his childhood friend’s unfortunate death running through his head as he tries to save Toshinori from the same fate. Once Midoriya saves Toshinori, Aizawa still reaches out to him, like he’s worried the man may get hurt, break, as he tells him that it’s not safe in this environment, and that Toshinori should leave, go where it’s safe.

When Aizawa couldn’t attend Bakugo and Todoroki’s extra classes, he asks Toshinori to go in his place, and even makes Present Mic go along as a body guard. He’s clearly concerned for the former hero’s safety and well-being. Toshinori now often fills in for Aizawa if he can’t make it to his own class.

When Midoriya’s new quirk is discovered, Aizawa takes Toshinori’s anxiety about the situation seriously, and they immediately go to put a stop to the training battle.

But once Midoriya’s quirk settles down, Aizawa decides to let this play out, and calms Toshinori, saying he’ll put a stop to it if the situation happens again.

He later describes Toshinori as a genius, naturally talented, when explaining to Shinsou how he doesn’t expect the kid to be on the same level with the others in the hero course right off the bat. Aizawa has extreme respect for Toshinori.

The biggest moment between the two is late on a snowy night, when Toshinori sits outside in the cold, alone, contemplating...well, his life honestly. Aizawa find’s him, “there you are,” apparently looking for the taller man. Toshinori at first automatically deflects any questions about himself, and asks about the children. He then offers to help Aizawa with training Eri, in which the underground hero gladly accepts (something that Aizawa would not have done in the past, as he hated even speaking to the older man before). But Aizawa can see through the façade, and asks what’s wrong. Aizawa is one of, if not the only, person Toshinori confides in so deeply. Horkioshi confirmed recently that of everyone (adults, I assume), pro heroes included, Toshinori is the closest to Aizawa. Toshinori decides he can trust Aizawa with his mental weights. He’s decided to live, but feels useless staying alive, powerless, unable to help anyone, or at least how the children need him to.

Aizawa’s initially unnerved at the fact that Toshinori decided to live, as if the contemplation of otherwise was there. But he listens quietly, intently, to what Toshinori says. Finally, he tries to reason with the older man that being a workaholic, and never having time to rest, isn’t good either, points out that after holding up the country for decades, suddenly not having it has left an addiction. Toshinori doesn’t know what to do if he’s not running himself ragged. But also tells him that he is helping the students--by being alive, and by being here for them. There are a lot of people (Aizawa included?) that gain strength, just by Toshinori being there, alive. And he asks him to please keep on living and acting like his normal self. Toshinori’s overcome with emotion at his words.

For a relationship between the two, I’m sure they both would have had feelings for quite some time before ever admitting to it. Knowing their personalities, Aizawa would feel his feelings were illogical and deceptive. Toshinori is just a tad older than him, has met probably thousands more people than Aizawa ever will, and he was the number one hero. Falling for a guy like that just seemed too predictable and annoying. But Aizawa soon learns the differences between All Might and Toshinori, and while the latter still rubs him the wrong way at times, the tall, willowy man has managed to capture his heart. He feels compelled to care for the other, make sure he’s taking proper care of himself. And yet he tells himself it’s too invasive of the other man’s privacy; none of his business. When Mic and Midnight drag him to the bar and question him why his mood was off, he’d give no answer save for a shrug, and down another beer.

Toshinori would have feelings rather early, but most likely not realize they were more than just finally getting the grouchy Aizawa-kun to tolerate him. As weeks go by, he would catch his heart racing at Aizawa’s presence, blushing when the scruffy man would make tea for him after a coughing fit, and way too elated when Aizawa accepted the invitation for a drink together, alone. One night it would hit him just exactly how he feels for the younger man, and his heart would clench. Surely Aizawa couldn’t feel the same way, especially for a man as old, sickly, and awkward as himself. Even if it were possible, his own death is due to come within the next year, and he couldn’t do that to Aizawa-kun. He’d spend several nights fighting and eventually failing to quietly let his tears fall into the pillow below him as he tries to sleep, alone.

The two would cautiously work together, stepping around their own feelings to keep things normal between them. All the while Aizawa’s brain would fight against his heart, and Toshinori’s chest would tighten until a bloody cough was produced.

Finally, finally, after Mic and Midnight pry it out of Aizawa like a game of Operation, they force him to ask Toshinori out. It takes a week, but Aizawa finally finds the right moment to ask the former hero out for a drink and bar food. Glamorous as always, especially for a first date. But Toshinori gladly accepts, and spends the rest of the day convincing himself it’s just a friendly supper, between friends, not a date.

That night the two have a lovely evening of greasy bar food (which Toshinori politely only orders a small plate of fries, as there’s nothing blander on the menu) and beer (Toshinori also drinks a plain water). Aizawa apologizes for not taking Toshinori’s diet into account when picking where they met, and says he’ll let Toshinori pick the restaurant next time. Toshinori freezes at his wording. Aizawa’s quick to try and resolve, but Toshinori stops him. Asks him what exactly this is. A friendly dinner? Or something more? Aizawa buries into his scarf, and answers with a question in return; what do you want it to be? It’s then Toshinori sets his glass down, takes a moment to breathe, before spilling that he’d hoped it was a date. He’s bright red as he explains how he believes he’s developed...feelings over the months working together. That he wanted to go out again, but that he hadn’t wanted to force his feelings on Aizawa. Who would want someone like him?

These two have so much chemistry. They’ve been through so much together already: disagreements, near deaths, critical injuries, awkward moments of a budding friendship, talking each other off the ledge. In all the ships of the series, EraserMight has one of the most obvious connections and chemistries.

#lover talks #ask me #head canons #EraserMight #sorry this took me so long :(#Thanks for putting up with me <3 #all might #toshinori Yagi #Eraserhead #Aizawa shouta #relationships #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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caffeinated-cryptid · 4 years

Text

patton and the no-good day

5.9k words | AO3 link | warnings: angst, alcohol, swearing, arguing, lashing out, minor injury, crying, fire, repetition.

“Patton wants to know what it’s like to make the right choices, so he tries...And tries. And tries and tries andtriesandtries-

(aka: a time loop fic where patton manages to revisit the day of svs, this time with the goal of making everyone happy. he quickly discovers that he's bitten off more than he can chew.)”

________________________________

Patton was unhappy. And he was unhappy because everyone else was unhappy. After the wedding, he had become so intimately aware of every mistake he had made. From Logan’s quiet dismissal when he tried to talk to him, to Virgil’s obvious avoidance of everyone, to Roman’s complete shutdown.

The only sides he could assume weren’t mad at him at the moment were Janus and Remus. And Remus was only a maybe, just based on how excited he’d been to hear that he had turned into a giant muscular frog alone.

Patton could only grimace upon recalling his breakdown. It was supposed to be the turning point for him, an indication of ‘Hey, I've come to realize that I’m deeply flawed but now I’m able to start fixing things!’. But of course, it didn’t turn out like that. Every day that passed only grew harder and harder with his mistakes staring him in the face. He was tired of waking up, dreading the insurmountable process of trying to make things right and failing, only to fall asleep and try again the next day.

It was like he was trapped in a loop of identical days, each one as ineffective as the last.

Patton could barely imagine the end of this tunnel, until one morning, he woke up and for once everything felt... different.

He ignored the feeling at first as got ready as usual, heading out towards the kitchen with the expectation of seeing empty chairs at empty tables once more. Except when he walked in this time, preparing to make a breakfast no one would eat, everyone was there already seated. It was just like how everything was before-- Janus and Remus were absent, but Logan, Virgil, Roman...all of the sides he considered his best friends were there, all togeher in one place for the first time in weeks.

He burst into tears on the spot and they collectively startled, immediately questioning what was wrong. It took a few minutes to convince them all that he was fine, that he just got emotional seeing them all because he loved them so much (which wasn't even a lie!), and in the end they accepted his explanation because sometimes that was just what Patton was like. As he sat down and tried to act as normal as possible, he couldn't help but stare at all of them, so carefree as they chatted and poked fun at each other. There wasn't a single furrowed brow, or a hidden frown, or a look of hurt. It was unfortunately because of that that he knew his gut feeling was right; there was something strange going on here.

Throughout the morning, Patton couldn’t put his finger on what was so familiar about this day until he felt a certain series of events occur: Thomas gets a call. He picks up the phone and talks with the casting agent for a famous director. He’s told that he got the callback for his audition and he’s terribly excited, so excited that his sides come out to celebrate with him and-

Oh. Oh! That was his cue, wasn’t it? Patton bit back a frown, rising up to share their excitement and then to remind them about the wedding that was scheduled for the same day. It was hauntingly familiar, seeing the way Thomas and Roman became dejected and knowing that this was only the start of an uphill battle.

And then Fauxgan came in- or rather Janus, disguised as Logan- and when Patton saw his new snakey friend, his chest swelled with excitement. This was his opportunity to change things! He knew that in the current script, Janus would soon reveal himself and begin pushing back against what Patton had said. So when that happened this time, he could simply agree and make it seem like he had been convinced to change his mind. That way, they could reach a different solution and everyone would be happy. Simple!

Patton watched and waited patiently as the others made comments back and forth; Virgil and Janus snarking each other as Janus made his case to be listened to.

“That...can not be where the bar is!” Virgil protested in disbelief once Thomas agreed to hear him out, based on his vague 'the enemy of my enemy is a friend' ideal.

“Well, the bar for skipping an important opportunity should be higher than a...social engagement.” Janus replied distastefully.

This was where he originally jumped in to disagree. Patton saw Roman grow shifty out of the corner of his eye and knew: this was it!

“Maybe Janus is right! This is a huge opportunity. We should try to figure out a way to make both events if we can, but this means a lot for Thomas so we shouldn’t just skip it.“ Patton said confidently, even though the argument felt strange coming out of his mouth. At least he knew this time around he was making the right choice by backing down.

But the others only looked at him strangely, with varying degrees of confusion across their faces.

“Who’s Janice-”

“You’re agreeing with him?! I knew you were acting weird-”

“How do you know my name-”

Patton’s eyes widened, realizing his subconscious mistake. He had gotten so used to referring to Deceit as Janus over the weeks that they’d been friends that his name just automatically slipped out. It was too late to take it back; the conversation was quickly derailed, with too many accusations coming out at once to even try geting back into the dilemma. At one point Janus wondered aloud if Remus had somehow gotten out and taken the form of Patton, which only raised more questions and ended with a sword pointed at his throat.

It was a disaster. They make the last-minute decision to go to the wedding out of spite for Janus and Patton.

________________________________

The next morning, Patton woke up with a start, looking around his room to find that it was exactly the way he had left it the day prior. Normally this wouldn’t be such a cause for alarm, but today it was because Patton was certain he had thrown a few things last night in childish frustration at himself for messing things up. Only soft items, because he couldn’t bear to accidentally destroy anything in his sentiment-filled room, but the fact remained that seeing his pillows lined up at the end of his bed again was a strange sign, one that had him suspicious about how this day was going to go.

To test his theory, he went down to the kitchen without bothering to change out of his pajamas, only to see the other three sides already sitting there in the exact same places as yesterday. He paused in the doorway, waiting for them to show recognition of the day prior-- for some kind of hostility or accusation. The only thing he received were snickers.

“Nice PJs, Pat.” Virgil smirked over his bowl of cereal before going back to scrolling on his phone.

Patton’s mind slowly processed this. It was as if the day had reset, back to the world he had woken up to yesterday. He sunk down into the last remaining chair and forced himself to make a joke about ‘having a PB&J sandwich to match this PJ day’, despite Logan’s protests that he would not be sharing the last jar of crofters (He always said this to deter them from eating his jam, but it was always a lie and he'd always let them have some in the end. Patton didn’t realize how much he missed that habit of his until he almost started crying again over Logan passing him the jam jar).

After a perfectly normal breakfast, he quickly returned back to his room to change and prepare for what was ahead of him. Now that he knew the day was definitely repeating and could recognise where he went wrong yesterday, he just needed to ensure he didn’t make such a silly mistake right off the bat again.

He went through the motions: Thomas getting a phone call, him reminding them of the wedding, and then the beginnings of debate.

“I agree with Deceit.” He said this time, smiling as he remembered to not use Janus’ name.

Despite his conscious effort, it doesn’t go over much better. Janus was surprised and suspicious of Patton’s sudden change of heart and Virgil immediately got on the defense. Once again, the argument quickly escalated.

“Why would you side with him?! He’s one of the others! You can’t trust him!” Virgil cried, hands tugging on his hoodie strings as he desperately tried to convince them. It was currently three against one. He must have felt cornered, having no one on his side, Patton realized belatedly.

“And how are you so sure of that?” Patton still responded back, feeling offended on behalf of his friend. He had promised himself he wouldn’t make things worse this time, but seeing Virgil get so angry at him hit a sore spot. As long as he was right about his theory, this day was already ruined the moment he sided with Janus, anyway.

“Because I was one of them!” Virgil yelled, and his expression quickly changed from frustrated to devastated to frightened. And then he sunk out, giving no one the chance to stop him.

The remaining sides stood in silence before Janus broke into hysterical laughter. Patton could hear it echo in his mind as the day reset for the third time.

________________________________

The next time, he didn’t bring up the wedding at all.

Patton didn’t want to kid himself; he was scared from seeing Virgil sink out so suddenly. After having Virgil’s anger directed at him twice and seeing him leave upset once, he figured that meant that outright siding with Janus was a risky thing to do if he wanted to make sure everyone was happy by the end of this.

So instead of trying to change his stance, he simply removed the confusing aspect out of the equation altogether and made sure no one remembered it or brought it up. This way for sure, he thought, everything would go a lot smoother.

...He was wrong.

Weeks passed after the phone call and everything was peaceful-- Patton didn’t experience any resets and he took this as a good sign, enjoying the time with his family which he had dearly been missing out on. The sides were excited for the opportunity, which only grew when the callback came and went and they aced it. It was like Patton had finally achieved the dream scenario, until one day later when Thomas summoned them with a horrified look on his face.

“I skipped Lee and Mary Lee’s wedding when I went to the callback.” Was all he said.

“...Huh? How is that possible?” Virgil asked, simultaneously looking like he was going to faint and/or run away. “That couldn’t have been yesterday, could it? I mean, the odds of that…”

“It was. However…” Logan spoke up, and everyone watched as he summoned his calendar, wearing baffled expressions when he pointed to yesterday’s date-- revealing that the wedding had never been written down at all. Thomas had somehow pushed it completely out of his mind.

“But...it was for a big opportunity! Surely they’ll understand if you explain why you had to miss the wedding.” Roman argued, glancing around at the panicking sides.

“That’s the thing, they’re upset that I didn’t tell them about it beforehand and they think I blew them off on purpose. Now all of our mutual friends think I only care about myself.” Thomas stressfully looked down at his phone as he got another text message- and not a very kindly-worded one at that. “I don’t know what to do to fix this!”

Patton paled. Surely that couldn’t be right. Could things really have gotten this bad, just because he hadn’t reminded them of the wedding?

“It looks like Thomas has become a social pariah.” A smooth voice cut in. “And I’m sure you all know who’s to blame.”

No-

________________________________

The next time, Patton woke up in tears, unable to get the image of Janus turning against him out of his mind.

This time he doesn’t try to avoid the debate. Debates were crucial; they were how they got through most of their problems! In retrospect it was silly to try and skip that part of the day altogether, but at least now he had a clearer idea of what to try next. The issue from the last attempt was that Lee and Mary Lee weren’t spoken to, so this time he’d back Roman up when he suggested communication.

When they were next able to arrange a meeting to talk, Thomas explained the situation to the couple; how he had gotten a last-minute once in a lifetime offer. They were excited for him and encouraged him to take the opportunity, but Patton saw it in their eyes, how they gave Thomas sad smiles and looked at each other with disappointment.

He panicked, and Thomas changed his tune, pretending to check his phone and coming to the ‘realization’ that he got the time wrong, that he could go after all.

Lee and Mary Lee were thrilled.

But the others hated him for it.

________________________________

The next time for sure, he thought he’d get the courage to do it right.

They talked to Lee and Mary Lee. Thomas explains the situation, and this time Patton doesn’t make him change his mind. They’re disappointed, but despite knowing this deep down Thomas stays firm and decides to go to callback anyway.

During the lead-up to the 13th of April, Roman keeps looking to him for guidance, asking if this was really alright. Patton tries to assure him, but even he doesn’t know. He feels like everything he’s doing is putting them on the right track, but after thinking he was doing the right thing and being wrong several times, he isn’t able to say for certain that they were making a good choice. Especially not with the unknown variable of Lee and Mary Lee's disappointment thrown into the mix.

Eventually Roman learns to stop coming to him with his fears, and when it comes to the callback he chokes during the performance. Thomas messes up and someone else gets the role.

They don’t get to go to the wedding or win the callback.

Roman ducks out the same day and Remus takes his place.

________________________________

The next time, Patton was overly aware of his lack of certainty. He hadn’t realized how close Roman had been to falling over the edge, so during his next attempt he can't help but keep it fresh in his mind.

Throughout the debate he makes sure to agree with the creative side. He didn’t oppose any of his arguments or call him out where he originally thought he was being selfish; he’s as kind and gentle as can be, haunted by what had happened one cycle ago.

It makes Janus upset. He knows Patton’s true stance and can’t understand why he’s silencing his voice so much for one side alone. He ends up pointing out how Patton is being underhanded by trying to use flattery to get things to go his way and then mentions how that must be how he's managed to keep everyone under his thumb for so long. Patton sees red.

It’s nice to get his steadily building frustration out. Perhaps Janus is an undeserving target of his anger, but the criticism just hit too close to home for him to accept lying down. He didn't want to be a manipulative person. He had been trying so hard to let others have their voices be heard and not seize control the narrative too much, but in the end wasn't that what he was doing now? Trying to manipulate everything, even if his motives were good? The realization had blood pumping in his ears, drowning out everything but his own voice.

Everyone becomes tense when he starts yelling and Janus only stares in shock, confused and oddly enough, hurt to be the focus of the usually happy pappy's wrath. Patton yells until his throat is hoarse, and then some more because he knows he can't damage his vocal chords here. He does it for Logan, who had been pushed aside almost every time they've done this. For Virgil, who had so many doubts and fears and was too afraid to share them until they become too much. For Roman, who was the most likely to get crushed whatever they did. For Janus, who was just trying to get a seat at the table. For Remus, who potentially never would.

For himself, who just couldn't get this right.

When he's done the room is so silent that they would have been able to hear a pin drop and he feels a weight off his chest. He's made his point, loud and clear.

Even though the others have no idea what he’s talking about.

________________________________

The next time, Patton wakes up feeling guilty for losing his temper, despite how cathartic it had been to let loose a little bit. He can’t look the others in the eye when he goes to breakfast, and instead spends the whole time in his head, trying to figure out what to try next.

This time he decides to soften his voice. He already knows it’s a mistake based on prior experience, but he doesn’t know what else to do-- doesn’t have the time to consider any other approach to take before Thomas is getting that phone call once again.

Throughout the debate, his statements fall short. He lacks conviction. He subtly tries to side with Janus and Roman, but not to the extent where it makes Virgil upset, and it only makes him look flakey. He’s flimsy; uncertain, and everyone can tell. He can practically feel Logan’s desperation to take his place from the back row.

In the end, Thomas is convinced that he’s a completely horrible and selfish person due to Patton’s lack of assertion otherwise and avoids both events out of a self-induced spiral of guilt and anxiety.

________________________________

The next time Patton is too firm. He keeps assuring Thomas that he’s not a bad person, and realizes too late that he fell back into his old habits.

Roman sentences them to the wedding again.

Patton summons a pillow to scream into in frustration.

________________________________

By the 50th loop, Patton had more or less given up. He starts the day by rolling out of bed and popping open the cork of a wine bottle right into his face. It’s in the moment he starts feeling a black eye form that he makes the formal decision: fuck it.

He skips breakfast to sip wine through a silly straw (because casual alcoholism doesn’t count when you make it fun. Or when you’re stuck in a figurative nightmare), and he changes into the most ‘dad on vacation’ clothes he owned; a gaudy hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts. He forgoes shoes because decidedly this isn’t a shoes kind of day, and after 50 god-forsaken attempts at trying to get this right, he thinks he’s earned a little self-indulgence.

When the time rolls around to start the video, he belatedly rises up in the living room tispy and wearing his old 2015 new years novelty sunglasses. The others are immediately taken aback at his appearance while Thomas grimaces.

“Ah… So that’s why I’ve been thinking about cursing people out all day.”

“You should. It’d be funny.” Patton giggles.

“...Okay.” Virgil states, likely finding his behaviour too familiar for comfort. “What the fuck."

Janus doesn’t join them this time around; instead the real Logan shows up because suddenly everything had switched courses into a completely different problem. The four of them try to figure out what’s wrong with Patton, and he refuses to cooperate the entire time, just for the heck of it. Eventually he grows bored of watching them fuss and squabble, so he starts saying the first things to come to mind, the deepest opinions that were buried under all of his repression-- things he wouldn’t dare say if he were sober and free from this hell.

“I hate all of you sometimes.” He announces over their discussion without guilt, too far gone to care how hurt the faces that looked back at him were. He knew it wasn’t real anyway, at least it wouldn’t be when the next loop started.

“I hate how I can apologize forever and it’s still not enough. I hate how I have to accept the mistakes made against me, but you all get to sulk for weeks and not even let me try to make things right. When all I’ve ever wanted is to make you happy.”

“Patton-” Logan begins hesitantly. He looks like he wants to contradict him and Patton doesn't care for it.

“Stupid of me, right Logan?” He cuts him off with a laugh, dry and completely unlike himself. Logan closes his mouth, regret flashing across his face, and it just felt so good in that moment to be the bitter one for once. He’s never done it before; always having to take the high road while everyone else chose to be petty and self-absorbed in their own egos. No fault to them for that; he felt pretty amazing right now, going against the moral code he had built and adhered to for so long. It felt forbidden and like the sort of thing he’d regret later. (And heck, with all the mistakes he’d been accidentally making, perhaps doing something wrong on purpose was like taking that power back.)

“I’m doing all of this- going through this day again and again- for what?” He continues, glaring at them individually. “I’m doing my best here- just to make everything alright again, and- fuck.”

Patton ignores the shocked expression he gets when he swears. He’s getting too close to feeling bad again, so he summons another bottle of wine. He learns from his mistake and points it away from himself this time, and the cork doesn’t hit him in the face; instead it smashes into the tv screen. Roman and Virgil yelp. Thomas stares.

“...Patton, what are you talking about?” Thomas asks.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter.” Patton giggles again after taking a long swig, sliding back against the blinds until he's on the floor. Away from the cameras, at last. “None of you will remember this anyway.”

And they don’t. (They never do)

________________________________

The next time, he wakes up without a black eye or a hangover and considers not leaving his bed today. He does anyway, just to make sure he hadn’t done something irreversible and ruined everything for real this time.

He goes to the kitchen to find everyone sitting like they always do, in the exact same positions at the exact same time with the exact same food, without fail. They acknowledge him the same way they always do as he enters the room and he can’t help but grind his teeth when it feels like mocking. So he walks over to the cupboard and starts pulling out plates to smash against the ground.

They’re surprised, worried, taken aback, and as he stands in a sea of broken china he doesn’t care about what they have to think about him. He already knows nothing he does right now will have later consequences, even if it means cutting up his feet like an idiot.

He’ll just have to do better next time.

________________________________

He doesn’t do better. Instead, he gives into the urge to stay in bed all day. No one comes for him and the discussion happens without him, which he knows because he resists the summons to go testify.

Maybe Logan got to be the lawyer this time. That’d be nice, he supposes. ________________________________

The next time he sets fire to his room, just to see what it would feel like to see everything he cares for burn.

(It doesn't feel much like anything, because he already knows it'll be back the next day. He hates it in unspeakable amounts when he's proven right.)

________________________________

The next, he goes over to the other half of the mindscape and steals Janus’ hat, feeling a bit more carefree as the side pursues him around the mindscape and the rest of the day is derailed.

________________________________

The next, he tries to make a cake to celebrate the callback and accidentally burns it. He feels like there's some sort of cosmic irony there.

________________________________

The next, he does nothing but make puns until the others cry in frustration.

________________________________

Next, he goes to the other half of the mindscape again and hangs out with Remus all day, just to check up on him after not seeing him since he took Roman’s place that one time.

Remus tries to attack him several times but Patton is past the point of being afraid of him. At one point he catches the shuriken Remus throws at his head and he finally manages to earn his favour.

They end up having a good time, talking until everything resets again.

________________________________

Next, he kisses everyone on the cheek and apologizes for getting drunk and being mean to them.

(Despite them being reseted versions of themselves and therefore not remembering any of it. He still does it anyway and it still makes him feel slightly better afterwards).

________________________________

Next, he finds the energy to make a genuine effort once again.

This time Logan ducks out. Patton spends the next few loops in mourning.

________________________________

By around the 75th loop, he’s finally had enough. There’s no more fun to be had messing around with these constantly-reseting sides, and he’s so so tired of trying to keep the peace and failing. Nothing he does was working-- in fact it seemed like he was just making things worse based on the amount of times one of the sides had broken down in front of them or tried to duck out or left with undealt with emotions. (There were so many things he had seen that would stick with him for a while, wondering just how close they were to having something similar happen in reality. He couldn't even rest anymore, kept awake by the questions.)

If he were a different side, one more accustomed to problem solving, perhaps he would’ve had a solution by now, but he just doesn’t. It's not how he was meant to operate. So instead of trying to figure it out, he goes to Virgil’s room after breakfast and starts blubbering in front of him until he’s led onto his bed where he's awkwardly consoled.

Virgil, without even knowing why he’s upset, places a comforting hand on his back anyway which sends Patton into even greater sobs. It had been so long since he'd let someone hug him or show him affection- so upset with himself for his failings that he stopped believing that he deserved any of it. This time he just lets it happen because he needs some comfort and if he doesn't get it he doesn't know how he'll be able to continue forward.

The two of them end up moving to a more neutral part of the mindscape as to not make his feelings worse, and he allows himself to indulge in just being held. He's aware of exactly how long they have until the start of the debate, so he milks his time with Virgil for all he's got, until eventually his crying evens out into sniffles, leaving him with tired eyes and a runny nose.

He knows Virgil wants to ask what’s wrong, but he breaks the silence first when he finally manages to calm down.

“Do you know how to get out of a loop?”

He can’t see Virgil’s face from where they’re hugging, but he can tell that he’s at odds with the question.

“You’re asking me, the MVP of spiralling, how to get out of a loop?” Virgil asked unbelievingly.

“Yeah, you’re right- It was stupid.” Patton begins, pulling away before Virgil stops him.

“I didn’t say that.” He says quickly, worriedly. Then he goes quiet in deliberate thought. “...You have to rely on the people around you to get out of it, I guess.”

When Patton makes a questioning noise, he continues.

“I mean… Sometimes it’s all you can do, y’know? You’re always gonna be biased when you’re living in your own head, and if you’re struggling to get through something yourself... the best thing to do is ask for help. Get a different viewpoint.”

"Sounds scary." Patton laughs wetly. Virgil joins him, sounding relieved.

"Yeah. It's definitely not as easy as it sounds. Being vunerable and reaching out to people, that is."

"...How do you manage?"

"Well..." Virgil pulls back a little. "I don't always. But you just have to trust that it'll be worth it in the end. And it usually is."

After a moment of thinking that over, Patton draws back fully and stares at him. Virgil meets his eyes with barely-veiled worry as he continues. “So… If you’re dealing with something, you can always tell us. You should know by now that you don't have to deal with everything alone, popstar.”

Patton can't meet his gaze any longer when his eyes heat up once more. "...I just want to be there for all of you," He finally admits in a small voice. "It's my one goal, and I feel like I only let you down. I can't expect you to carry my problems with you, on top of that."

Virgil's frown deepens. "It's not us carrying a burden for you, Pat. It's sharing the load equally so you don't fall under the pressure." His hand found Patton's back again, rubbing small circles. "If you feel like you have to be the one to fix everything all the time, then maybe we failed you as friends."

Once again, the dam broke, and Patton sincerely did not know what to say to that. Virgil pulled him back to his side, letting Patton rest his head on his shoulder as he let out his second round of tears for the day. They were spending too much time talking about his issues, he realized as the video started once more, but Virgil didn't make any move to leave his side, and for the nth time that day, he was incredibly greatful to him.

Something about their conversation clicked in his brain, and it was like he knew exactly what he needed to do. When he was finally ready to let go of this day, he gave Virgil one last hug and thanked him for his advice. He then sunk out back to his room and fell into bed, waiting for the cycle to start over again.

Perhaps he had known all along what he would have to do to end this, and Virgil had given him the final shove.

Either way, he so was ready for it to be over.

________________________________

On the final loop, Patton decided to follow Virgil’s advice.

He goes back to acting as normal-- eating breakfast, getting the call, rising up, reminding them about the wedding-- and this time he doesn’t do anything especially different.

Unlike his previous attempts where he tried to change his tune, tried to see through every possibility, tried to stop arguments before they started; he instead tries to do everything the same way the original debate had gone, to be the best of his memory.

He didn’t falter when he said things he now knew to be insensitive, he didn’t hold back on disagreeing with the others, or insert himself into problems that weren’t his to help with yet. He watched as the cracks formed between each side, watched the gavel swing down, watched every other side sink out after shooing Janus away.

And he knew it would be just fine.

He looked into Thomas’ eyes and felt nothing but pride. Just like the real thing, this one looked uncertain, but was briefly relieved by the conclusion they came to, putting his trust in Patton as he reassured him in his decision. He knew that by choosing this route he was accepting the heartbreak that would come later, but he accepted that. He understood now that hiding in fantasies of getting everything perfect was counterproductive and unrealistic. He knew it was time to go back.

As he sunk out to his room for the final time, he realized that if this exercise taught him anything, it was that above making the right choices, above having the right things to say to fix everyone’s problems, all he needed, all along…

Was patience.

________________________________

Patton opened his eyes to the sight of dim spotlights overhead. With a loud dad grunt he was glad no one else was around to hear, he rolled over to sit on the edge of the stage, looking out to the seat in the crowd he had once been impersonated at.

He took in the room once last time before the lights continued to dim, which he instinctually knew to be the mind’s way of telling him to leave. He was ready for it; so he did.

Hopping off of the stage, he walked between the aisles towards the exit, pushing the doors open to be greeted with the familiar space of the mindscape. He stood there for a second, letting his eyes adjust from the darkness of the theatre as his memory slowly returned to him-- compressing the months he had just gone through until he could remember why he had come here in the first place.

“So.” He heard a familiar voice come from next to him as he regained his bearings. “Are you satisfied with what you found?”

“...Yeah.” Patton said softly, turning to smile at the figure.

“And?”

“I didn’t need to change anything in the end.”

There was a sharp exhale, barely a scoff. “Well, I could’ve told you that, and it would’ve saved you a lot of hassle.”

“You could have.” Patton agreed. “...But it was helpful seeing all the way things could have been different, too.”

His eyes fell to the ground, recalling the different outcomes that were wildly different and much much worse than their current situation. It made him grateful for the way everything had turned out-- imperfect but not broken-- and made everything seem so much less bleak than how he first thought it to be. When he was so lost that he had chosen to relive that day for the sake of getting peace.

“Oh? And what exactly happened in there?”

“A lot. One time I stole your hat. You got so mad that you started hissing.” Patton’s smile widened at one of the better memories, even more so when his friend grumbled.

“Wow. I’m so glad the hour I spent out here waiting was used productively.” Janus sighed, pulling his hat down subconsciously. “...I am glad that it helped, though.”

“I am too.” Patton hummed. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Janus finally returned his smile and Patton brightened up. They weren't yet confident that they could fix everything that had happened between the sides, they didn’t even know if it was possible for them to do so alone, but they were at least willing to take that step forward and offer a helping hand.

And that's all that matters, right? No matter how many times they were let down or faced an obstacle, they just kept getting up to try to be better. It didn't matter if things weren't alright again right away; sometimes earning forgiveness meant trusting the other person to come back to you eventually. Waiting for that opportunity to glue back the pieces together.

And if Patton was certain about anything, it was that he was more than prepared to wait.

________________________________

Tags: @nasatshirts @quinnthequeer @mayflowers07 @overlad-of-the-snakes @varthandi @foxxsong @omnicrex @nadiestar @mistythegirlfluxmess @greenninjagal-blog @hit-or-mish @slytherin-halfblood @i-need-a-life-8903 @lemonlinelights @logicaemetus @bluestarfan10 @marshmallow-fluffy @enby-phoenix @arrestjellyfish @its-the-usda-certified-trashman @impatentpending @killjoy-3000 @nonasficcollection @mhep24601 @atomic-cat-dragon @puffydove @qrowdraws-notforyouthough @randommuffinyt @bubblycricket @theactual-devil @viana-dascolli @modsnow

#my writing #sanders sides #patton sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #platonic drlamp #patton and the no-good day #patton angst #OOF IT'S DONE

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floralquafloral · 3 years

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Watch out it's random splatoon headcanon time again

I was thinking about splatting and respawning recently, and @acid-hues used no less than Three looking emojis when I asked if anyone would want to hear my thoughts about how that stuff works, so here goes. Warning for potentially fatal quantities of pseudoscience, since I'm not a biologist or a chemist, just a goober who likes the squid game too much ;P

1. What is splatting?

Splatting is a reflex in inklings and octarians that occurs when they're been critically injured. It allows the cephalopod to escape and recover from a potentially fatal situation, effectively unharmed. Almost all of their body mass is liquefied to ink in a similar process to squid-form transformation, but it's all lost, resulting in the characteristic splatter. The only remaining structure is the "squid soul", which isn't actually a soul so much as a balloon-like vessel that can (under the right conditions) develop into a whole inkling body again.

2. What is a squid soul?

Squid souls aren't actually incorporeal souls, they're just very complicated (and lightweight) biological structures that contain all the mechanisms and information necessary to create an inkling body. Kind of analogous to an egg: given food and time, an egg can turn into a whole animal. Squid souls are just a great deal more precise, in that they generate an inkling body almost exactly as it was before, including the brain and all the inkling's memories and such. The squid soul itself, like an egg, isn't really comparable to an actual inkling - the soul can't talk, or eat, or think. The squid soul doesn't have a brain, and it only has just enough nervous system to seek out a location where it can respawn into a proper body. It uses a rudimentary form of the same senses that allow for the Turf Map. Because the squid soul isn't conscious, getting splatted kind of just feels like a very violent form of teleportation.

More information on the processes & technology behind respawning under the readmore :)

3. How does a squid soul respawn?

Squid souls can only develop into a proper inkling body if they can access two things: A bunch of biomass, and a bunch of electricity. Biomass is necessary because almost all of the inkling's original body has been exploded all over the place, so you need a bunch of stuff to make a new one. A large enough well of pure ink can contain all the necessary material for a body, but most respawn tech uses solutions of ink with other useful things dissolved into it. Respawning from a well of pure ink doesn't feel very good. Pure ink doesn't contain a very good amount of vitamins, iron, etc., so the new body will probably have less of that stuff in it than the old one.

Electricity is necessary to separate different compounds out of the ink, and to provide the energy required for some of the chemical reactions that need to take place - you can't just mush a bunch of ink together and get a body out of it.

4. What could prevent a successful respawn?

This part is pure headcanon, since there's nothing from the base game that relates to this, as far as I'm aware.

Some sources of injury won't trigger the splat reflex; the most common example is prolonged exposure to small amounts of water. Getting caught in heavy rain for hours can dissolve the body without ever triggering the splat reflex, so you just... don't come back.

Old age or severe illness can inhibit the reflex as well. If a young and healthy squid gets hit by a bus, they will explode and come back at the nearest respawn point. If someone whose splat reflex isn't working gets hit by a bus, then they just get run over, which very bad. Alternatively, in some cases the splat reflex could fail to generate a squid soul, so you'd just explode and not get to respawn, which would be exceedingly terrible.

For the kind of squid who would sign up for Turf Wars, there's basically no chance of this stuff happening, but there are still mandatory physicals before you can sign up for a Turf War just to make sure.

Lastly, of course, if someone gets splatted too far away from a viable respawn point, the squid soul will expire after only a few minutes.

5. What kind of tech allows for a respawn?

There are four different places you can respawn in-game: In the online battle maps (5.1), in the Octarian domes (5.3), in the Deepsea Metro's test stations (5.4), and from a Grizzco Tank (5.5). There's also presumably some way to respawn if you just, like, fall out of a tree and get splatted in the public park or something (5.2). There's also the floating respawn-thingies from the Splatoon 3 trailer, but since I don't know how they work in-game yet I don't have anything to make headcanons around. 🤷‍♀️

5.1. Turf War respawn pads: They're cheap to make, they work quickly, and they can handle dozens of squids getting splatted during a single 3-minute battle with no need for oversight during the game. It's worth remembering that the squid soul isn't sapient, it has no regards for the rules of a Turf War - so what prevents someone on Yellow Team from respawning at Purple's base? The answer is that, under most circumstances, the biomass requirement for a respawn can only be met with ink that matches your colour. Different colours of ink have different chemical compositions, so a squid soul that's seeking out a viable location to create a yellow squid won't be able to sense the purple respawn pad as a viable location.

The limitation of the Turf War pad is that they're not perfectly reliable. Occasionally it just won't appear as a viable respawn location to a squid soul, so someone will end up respawning outside the battle, which forfeits them from the match. (i'm only including this because i'm proud of coming up with an in-universe explanation for disconnects)

5.2. City respawn pads: Outside of inksports, it's still a good idea to have respawn pads all over the place so that if someone gets splatted they have somewhere to respawn. City pads, unlike Turf War pads, are designed to be 100% reliable and work for any ink color. Their natural drawback is that they require constant oversight. "Respawn operator" is a job you can have in most major population centers, that mostly involves sitting around, making sure nothing looks broken, and greeting anyone who shows up at the pad.

Getting splatted outside a battle isn't especially common (splatting someone outside a battle is a pretty serious no-no), so any given pad in the city will usually only get 1-2 respawns a day, if any at all. When someone shows up, the operator is supposed to write down their name, the time they respawned, and the reason they got splatted. If it was because of something legally messy like a road accident, they'll have more work to do to get that sorted out. If it was because of a Turf War pad failure, they'll contact the Judds to get that cleared up. If you were with someone when you got splatted, it's common courtesy to send a text or call once you respawn so they don't have to worry; since you won't have your phone with you when you respawn that's something the operator is also supposed to help with. Respawn operators are pretty helpful in general - if you tell them "I don't know how to get back to my house from here", they can usually give you a map or directions or something.

To allow for anyone to respawn at a City pad, they're filled with a very bright and saturated brown ink solution. This colour is unique in that basically any other ink colour can change into it very easily; if you get splatted while you've got red ink, you'll show up at the city pad with brown ink. This is why bright brown ink isn't frequently used for inksports (definitely not because the developers didn't want it to look like they're using poop for turf wars).

5.3. Octarian Checkpoints: As electricity is a precious and scarce resource for Octarians, their respawn pads are designed to use as little of it as possible. An Inkopolis respawn pad has a current running through it constantly, which combined with the large amount of ink, allows squid souls to perceive it as a viable respawn location. In contrast, Octarian checkpoints don't offer any ink or electricity when inactive. They only switch on when a nearby Octarian soldier gets splatted, using a signal transmitted by the Octarian's equipment. When they turn on, they temporarily fill with ink and run an electrical current, allowing the soldier's octo soul to make its way over and respawn before the checkpoint shuts down again.

The signal receiver of the checkpoints has a vulnerability that allows it to be overridden, which will fill it with any colour of ink solution and render it unable to receive power-on signals. The Hero Tanks worn by Agents 3 and 4 do this automatically when the agents get close to a checkpoint - this is why they're black before an agent gets close, then change to match their ink colour. However, once the checkpoint is overridden, it still doesn't provide electricity, and in fact can't be activated at all. The Hero Tank allows them to be used regardless by putting an electrical charge into the squid soul itself, so that it only needs the well of ink solution. It can only store up to three respawns worth of charge, though. If an agent gets splatted while the battery is empty, they're toast.

Octarians, of course, can't respawn at a checkpoint that's been overridden, not only because it won't power on but also because it doesn't match their ink colour anymore. Only one checkpoint will receive the power-on signal when an Octarian gets splatted, so when an overridden checkpoint is the one that receives the signal, there will be nowhere on the base for the Octarian to respawn. Instead, they'll end up in another dome, or in a civilian respawn pad. The agents aren't murderers, okay?

5.4: Deepsea Metro Test Station Checkpoints: The testing stations in the Deepsea Metro are adapted from Octarian checkpoints, but with some tweaks to reflect the different priorities of Kamabo Co. as opposed to the Octarian military. Metro checkpoints have their remote-activation functionality stripped out, and instead permanently activate once the test subject reaches them, filling with ink solution and receiving a constant electrical current. They probably still have the same vulnerability as the Octarian checkpoints, but Agent 8's has no means of exploiting it, and no reason to anyways - the checkpoints are already configured to match her colour, since they're there for the express purpose of respawning test subjects.

Because Metro checkpoints always match Agent 8's ink colour, the sanitized octarians in the test courses have nowhere they can respawn. Instead, they are simply replaced as needed.

5.5: Grizzco Tanks: I'll be honest, I can't come up with any good explanations for this one. The way it traps the squid soul inside it probably has to do with the same interference that blocks the Turf Map, but the explanation for why you have to shoot it to activate a respawn is beyond me. The best I can do is list what can be ruled out:

It's not because it's using the ink from the shot for mass. If the Grizzco tank itself doesn't contain enough ink for a respawn, then there's no way a single Inkbrush swing would output enough to make up the difference.

It's not using the kinetic energy from the shot to trigger some sort of chemical reaction. Getting hit by a Steelhead bomb or a Flyfish missile don't revive the player, even though they surely have more kinetic energy than something like a Bloblobber bubble, which can.

The weapons themselves aren't providing an electrical charge. If Grizzco could modify a Splattershot to output enough electricity to enable a respawn, then the tank would be capable of doing that itself without needing to be shot.

Whatever it is, it's probably not very good for you long-term to respawn like that. Grizzco just gives off those vibes, like working there is totally gonna mess up your health when you're older.

#oops! all infodumps #if you have any idea how the grizzco tank could work #please please please please tell me #this is gonna take up 100% of my mental real estate for weeks #floralaqua #splatoon #splatoon 2 #splatoon headcanons #splatoon hero mode #octo expansion #salmon run

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azikarue · 2 years

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MayBlade 2022 : Day 18 : Chains

Saint Shields | FFN Rating: T | FFN Link ❖ The springs were tighter when he was locked in this time.

Ozuma took that to mean the Elders were even more disappointed in his leadership than he’d thought, which was saying something considering he was convinced they were going to revoke Flash Leopard and banish him at one point.

He didn’t know if it was his teammates speaking up on his behalf or the fact that the bitbeasts were said to only choose one partner a generation that saved him from that fate. Either way, he was still expected to don his training harness and run his drills as punishment when he hadn’t even been home to unpack yet.

It was after midnight when he finally finished and returned to their base camp, tired and sore, to struggle out of his harness. He cursed as he fumbled around, trying to reach the latches in the center of his back. It wasn’t normally so difficult, but he was fighting the pull of the stupid contraption with muscles that had given all they could already.

“Knock knock,” a familiar voice called, followed by Joseph himself as he cracked open the door. He looked Ozuma up and down. He was so observant that he’d probably cataloged every bruise with a single pass. “Wow, looks like they put you through the ringer.”

Ozuma didn’t have the energy to do much other than glare.

Joseph shrugged in response, and craned his neck to call out to someone behind him, “Hey, big guy! We could use your muscle in here.” He pushed the door open wider and Dunga followed him inside.

“How tight did they make these things?” Dunga asked with a snort, automatically going for the latches.

Ozuma winced when he undid them, subconsciously waiting for the metal to ricochet when the tension eased up. Thankfully Dunga was strong enough to keep that from happening and the harness was removed without further injury. It was instant relief, even though his muscles were on fire.

“They have you out there all this time?” Joseph asked, appearing at his side with a glass of water.

Ozuma nodded and downed the offered drink in a handful of gulps. It sat uneasily in his stomach, but that was probably because he’d missed dinner.

“What about you guys?” He was expected to take the brunt of the consequences as team captain, but the others weren’t immune. “Did anybody give you a hard time?”

Joseph and Dunga exchanged a look.

“Mariam and our dad got into it,” Joseph admitted reluctantly. “Not a shock – think they were both mostly blowing off steam – but I haven’t seen her since she stormed off. I don’t think anyone cared enough to scold us.” He indicated himself and Dunga.

Ozuma nodded his understanding.

Mariam’s place on their team was a point of contention in the village to begin with, especially given how she regularly shirked the duties most people thought women should embrace. When she was chosen by Sharkrash, some were mad simply because she was going to continue to get away with it.

During their meeting with the Elders, she was the most vocal in the defense of Ozuma’s decisions. It made sense that the two of them were under the most scrutiny now.

“Oh, let her lick her wounds,” Dunga said brusquely. “Pouting and crying won’t change anything. She’s wasting her time.”

“Pouting and crying? Like you were doing when I came to get you?” Joseph asked with a smirk.

“That was a healthy release of emotions, Joseph!” Dunga countered, going red in the face.

Ozuma couldn’t help but snort in amusement.

“Ew, gross!” The three of them turned in tandem to see Mariam standing in the doorway, nose wrinkled in disgust and a first aid kit under one arm. That solved the mystery of where she’d been hiding, anyway. “Have some decency, Dunga. No one wants to hear about your release.”

Dunga flushed even more and began to sputter.

Joseph cackled.

Mariam ignored them both and zeroed in on Ozuma.

“You look terrible,” she said while her eyes roved over his torso.

Judging by her face, he probably looked as bad as he felt. For the first time since the harness was removed, he let himself look down and take stock of his injuries. What he’d thought were a couple of small bruises, were big and ugly and accompanied by several cuts and scrapes where his skin had been rubbed raw.

“Oh.”

All three of his teammates rolled their eyes at his underwhelming response. Mariam was the one that came forward and forced him down into a chair with a hand on his shoulder. The other two flocked to whatever nearby surfaces they could perch on while she opened the first aid kit.

“Good thing we have a girl on the team to play nurse when we need it,” Dunga joked in an obvious bid to get a rise out of Mariam.

“You know Dunga, while I was getting the first aid kit I almost grabbed a scalpel to start your brain transplant, but I couldn’t find a monkey willing to trade with you.”

“Did you try looking in the mirror?”

“Is this you admitting I’m smarter than you are?”

Dunga had to think about that for a moment too long – Ozuma could practically see him connecting the dots in his head.

Mariam redirected her attention to Ozuma in the meantime. After briefly assessing his injuries once more, she produced a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a handful of butterfly bandages, and some cotton from inside the first aid kit.

“This might sting,” she warned as she opened the bottle.

Ozuma nodded. He’d been expecting that and he was too tired to care. Now that he was seated, he could feel sleep sneaking up on him, darkening the edges of his vision. When he felt the first swab of antiseptic, he hissed and wrenched his eyes open.

“I did warn you,” Mariam sighed. Then she tapped one of his clenched fists. “And stop tensing. It’s making you flex and bleed more.”

Ozuma forced himself to relax and she went back to cleaning the wounds on his arm. With his mind set on it, it didn’t take long for him to grow accustomed to the burning.

Once his teammates had begun joining him for training, they’d patched each other up more times than he could remember in this very hut. Mariam always warned him and Joseph, but never Dunga, when it was her turn to do this part. That was only a few months ago, but it felt like years since they’d sat here together, anticipating their Mission.

Who could have known that they’d sit here again, after deciding the Bladebreakers were worthy to protect the Sacred Four, essentially failing the Mission they’d spent so long training for? Ozuma had been at it even longer than the rest of them.

He was falling asleep again by the time Mariam moved on to the other arm. During his last moments of consciousness, he could hear Joseph mutter something to her. She replied. Dunga said something snidely in return. And so on and so forth.

The last thing he remembered was the peace of knowing that the ties binding them together as a team were stronger than the chains binding them to the Mission. And having them in his corner for whatever happened next would make all the difference.

#mayblade 2022 #beyblade #this is the second thing I started writing for this prompt and I was not changing my mind again lol #azikarue #azikarue394 #azrfic

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voiceless-terror · 4 years

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Perhaps the "stop moving!" Prompt for Jon, where he's been kidnapped by yet another avatar group and they're trying to subdue him but he's fighting too much so they break something like his leg or wrist to make him stop 👀

Hello! I’ve been thinking about this prompt for a while, and I decided to set this during the Circus kidnapping (hope you don’t mind!) and tackled it with another prompt, this one by @give-me-a-minute-to-think who asked for “ a post-circus-kidnapped fic. like, how martin and timdiscover jon was kidnaped and their reaction (espically tims.) we see in canon martin addressing that fact, but not literally anyone else. i just want some complicated relatinship and tim to be nice to jon even a little.” Hope you two enjoy!

Jon’s pretty sure bones weren’t meant to bend that way.

It was his fault, really. He shouldn’t have put up a struggle. He should’ve realized the futility of his situation and yielded to the rough, unfamiliar hands forcing him into the van. But Jon’s nothing if not stubborn, so a few flailing arms and weak kicks were to be expected. And the retaliation, of course, should’ve also been expected.

“Stop movin’,” came the gruff voice of the delivery man, with a face so nondescript Jon could forget it if he looked away for only a second. He gives one last weak slap to the hands on his body. Wrong move.

A sickening crack could be heard along with a sharp cry- Jon’s cry, because the pain currently emanating from his one good wrist is white-hot and agonizing. His eyes are blurring and the inside of the van is stifling in its darkness, but even he could see that hands and wrists weren’t supposed to look like this. He bites back the nausea and sags back into the rough hands, rendered frozen by the pain. There’s a chuckle, low and sinister, and one of the men begins to whistle the tune from the calliope.

And then his arms are yanked behind his back and the pain reaches a dizzying crescendo as his body decides it’s had enough, and sinks into oblivion.

_______

He spends his days being touched.

Cold hands and a face with a permanent smile. Sometimes there’s more of them, as if he’s a spectacle to be watched and studied. The Strangers like to learn about bodies, foreign as they are to them. Nikola enjoys narrating the process, poking and prodding at the bruises and burns and the strange, twisted hands. He doesn’t bite back his gasps and whimpers, he’s gagged, but Nikola likes to hear them. Likes to hear the wordless grumble of his voice, rendered mute and unintelligible.

The weeks go by, he loses hope. He’s not there much anymore, he’s somewhere else, a place where the pain can’t reach him. He’s back in Georgie’s apartment, the Admiral purring in his lap. He’s back in Research with a smiling Tim and a woman he imagines to be Sasha. He even thinks back to Martin’s lunches a few months ago with a sort of fondness. People talked to him, people cared. People worried when he was gone.

Every once in a while, his daydreams are interrupted by the sting of bones knitting together wrong or the itching flare of infected tissue. He starts to think of his eventual skinning as a sort of blessing in disguise; Lord knows he’s wanted to scratch himself out of it more than once. He just wishes they would hurry it up, not draw it out so much. Shouldn’t he be ready by now?

And then Michael comes. He feels a strange, manic strength return to him at the promise of a story, even if it ends in his own demise. I want to know. Tell me, tell me. The Eye’s gaze doesn’t reach him, but the power it’s planted within him grows. By the end, he feels strong enough to reach for the door handle himself, ignoring the pain that raising his arm causes.

It’s locked. His one salvation is gone. But then Michael is too, and Helen gives him a different sort of hope. One that lands him directly in Elias’s office.

His injuries are ignored in favor of a more pressing threat- Melanie. The only thing that keeps him standing and lucid is the remaining strength he siphoned from Michael’s statement. But it’s an empty, sickening vigor, one that’s sure to leave him feeling more drained than ever once it fades. Elias says nothing as he stumbles after Melanie with a limping pace, arriving some five minutes after her. She’s sitting at her desk, silently steaming when Jon makes his way in the office, leaning heavily against the doorframe.

“Jon!” Martin’s bright voice pipes up. “You’re back! We were wondering…” His voice trails off as he takes in Jon’s appearance, dirty and gaunt and yet shining with a strange sheen. A thousand showers won’t erase the feeling of those cold, slimy hands on him, Jon knows. Tim’s head pops up from his desk and even he looks a bit concerned; it’s the most positive feeling he’s shown Jon in ages.

“He was kidnapped, apparently,” Melanie drawls, and Jon doesn’t take her ambivalence to heart. She feels trapped like the rest of them. And Jon’s safe now, so what does it matter? What does any of this matter?

“K-Kidnapped?” Martin sputters, making his way over to his side. Jon flinches back unconsciously, gripping tightly at the wall and Martin stops in his tracks, his face softening. “We didn’t- nobody told us-”

“It’s fine,” Jon croaks, though they all know it isn’t. “It was- it was the Circus. A-And I’ll tell you about it-” he nods in Tim’s direction, seeing his wide-eyed stare out of the corner of his eye.”-as soon as I have a rest, if that’s alright.”

Martin casts a critical eye over him, his gaze coming to rest at the stiff way in which he holds his arms. “Seriously? I think you should go to the hospital, Jon. You look-”

“I’m fine now,” Jon assures him- he’d wave away the concern if he could lift his arm at all. “Just- just a moment, please.”

He limps to his office and they let him, their eyes reminding him of those curious mannequins and the way they stared and dissected him as if he were a cadaver on display. You’re not there anymore, he tries to reason as he collapses into his office chair. There’s a statement on his desk and he wonders if it was Elias or one of his assistants who placed it there, just waiting for him to come back. He’s so hungry.

But opening the file is agony. His burned hand cries out at any touch, and his crooked one doesn’t cooperate. Still, he forces the movement and the tape recorder clicks on for him, a move that usually chills him but now feels like a small mercy.

The words spill from his lips, natural and all-consuming. It doesn’t energize him as much as Michael’s direct account, but it certainly goes down easier, untainted by the jagged edges of the Spiral. He only realizes at the end that the statement was written in French, a language he doesn’t speak. Another development. Elias would be proud. Probably is, sitting up there in his office. And in perfect and non-coincidental timing, his email pings with a message from the man himself, informing him of his new flat, the keys to which are in his bottom drawer.

A new flat. How considerate. He tries not to think of the lonely, unprotected darkness that awaits him there. No Georgie. No Admiral. That’s probably for the best, he thinks. You wouldn’t want to endanger them.

Martin knocks, startling him out of his maudlin thoughts. He’s got tea and biscuits and Jon is struck by not only how much he missed the normalcy of the act, but how horribly hungry he is. For real food. He almost feels giddy with the realization.

“Thank you, Martin.” He’s rewarded with a tired smile and more questions. More apologies. He’s been reading statements. Jon worries about this, but Martin brushes it off. Jon keeps his arms resting on his lap, out of Martin’s sight. He gives non-answers to his inquiries and he can tell Martin’s frustrated- he only wants to help, but Jon won’t let him. They end the conversation at a strange but polite stalemate, a promise that there will be time for them to talk. He’s surprised Martin lets him go like this, but perhaps he’s realized what Jon already did all those weeks ago.

He’s beyond saving.

And then he’s gone again, back to that big room with those terrible waxworks and that strange, lilting tune and the faces that were wrong, the voices that were stolen. Everything echoed, even the tiniest of whimpers. And the laughter. He wants to curl up and make himself small, hide under the desk but his limbs are stiff and immovable, glued to his seat. His breaths start to come in small, tremulous gasps when another voice speaks up from the doorway.

“The Circus?”

Tim. Jon meets his eyes, attempting to get his emotions under control. You’re not there anymore. You’re back, you’re safe.

“A month you were gone,” Tim’s stomping over to his desk and Jon pushes his chair back, trying to create space but all Tim does is collapse into the chair across from him, heaving a sigh. He hasn’t sat there in ages. “Fuckin’ Elias. Where did they have you?”

Jon slumps in his seat, the tension in his frame somewhat easing. “It was a Wax Museum. I-I think that’s where they’ll be attempting the Unknowing.”

“That’s a lead, then.”

“Yeah,” Jon let out a weak chuckle. “At least something good came out of this.”

Tim’s eyes go dark. “Don’t joke about that.”

Jon nods, slightly taken aback by the fervor of the words. “S-Sorry.”

“What did you see? What happened?” He’s leaning forward now, his interest getting the best of him. Jon opens his mouth; he plans to answer- he could describe the waxworks, the van that took him away, the layout of his prison- but that’s not what comes out.

“They wouldn’t- they wouldn’t stop touching me,” he says, his voice fading to a whisper with each word. “Everyday. She came in and she smiled and she kept talking about my skin and touching me and I-I-” And once again he’s back there, cold hands on his face and mocking voices in his ear and it’s wrong, so wrong-

A hand rests on his shoulder and he rears back, an automatic response of revulsion as his heart stutters in his chest. But it’s not a smiling mannequin, it’s Tim. Tim, who’s kneeling by his chair so he doesn’t loom, whose hands are warm and real, flesh and blood. He’s staring down at Jon’s lap, where his arms lay crooked and burned and broken. Useless.

“They needed me to stop moving,” he whispers, as if it’s a valid explanation. Tim’s jaw is clenched. It’s a barely concealed rage and Jon feels guilty that it scares him so much. And yet, in spite of that anger, or perhaps because of it, he takes the hand from his shoulder, gentle and slow so Jon can see the path of his movements. He puts two fingers to the crooked arm, an impossibly soft movement as he leans in to inspect the damage.

And there’s no ulterior motive behind it. It’s just a touch, careful and concerned, probing lightly at his arm like he’s something fragile that Tim doesn’t want to break. He feels a tightness in his chest that for once doesn’t have fear as its source.

“I would’ve looked for you. If I’d have known.”

Tim says the words more to his lap than to him. And yes, he suspected that if Tim knew the Circus had him, he would’ve looked. But it wouldn’t have been for him. His presence would only be incidental. Tim’s staring at his arm as if the power of his gaze could knit it back together right and whole. His hand remains in place, and Jon wonders if it’s for Tim more than him. It’s as if he has to be reminded that Jon’s real, that he’s here.

“I need to tell you something.” The words are loaded with import. “But not now. Are you still staying with your friend?” Jon blinks at the change in subject.

“N-No. I have a new flat, but-”

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Tim’s suddenly all business, rising to his feet and looking down at Jon with a face that allowed for no argument. “Not with this Circus business. You can stay at mine, after you go to A&E. You’re not okay.”

Jon stares down at his lap, all fight leaving him. “I know.”

He lets Tim take control, lets him do that aggressive sort of care-taking he was known for in the earlier days of their friendship. It’s not the same; there’s no gentle words, no teasing but stern instruction. Just a silent tending that feels familiar all the same. Tim’s the one who speaks to the doctors, who listens to their instructions and later explains to Jon what’s going to have to be done in the coming days, as if he were a child. He knows it’s going to be bad, painful. But Tim keeps his voice level and Jon is somehow reassured. When they get to his flat and Jon’s warm and medicated and settled on the couch, he asks the question and Tim answers, his voice fluid and his words made eloquent in their grief. And Jon understands.

Tim doesn’t let him sleep on the couch. He’s curled up in the bed under a mountain of blankets and he pretends not to notice Tim standing in the doorway like some sort of sentinel.

“I would’ve looked.” He repeats the words as if trying to convince himself of their veracity. “If I’d have known.”

Jon closes his eyes and tries to believe him.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28135263

#my writing #tma #the magnus archives #prompt fill #jonathan sims #tim stoker #martin blackwood #cw injuries #broken bones #angst #Anonymous

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fangirlwriting-stories · 3 years

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Reflecting Light

Summary: As far as Remus knows, the situation with Shane is totally normal. Sure, it sucks, and he would love to not have to deal with getting beaten and scrutinized as often as he does, but that's just the way things are. There's no other way around it. Which admittedly might create some problems when he gets fed up enough to run away. (Trigger warning for abuse.)

Chapter One:

Even at seven years old Remus was well aware that people like his brother more than him.

Part of it was the looks. Roman had never chipped his teeth or gotten cuts on his face or grinned in a way that was just a little bit creepy (even though that was the fun part). Part of it was also probably personality. Roman was friendly and agreeable in ways that Remus wasn’t. Roman never got looks that amounted to “when are you going to leave?” Roman also never had to see Shane.

Shane had told him many times that people liked Roman more than he did, but he seemed to have different reasons than the ones Remus had come up with. According to him, Roman would make a far better soldier because he knew how to shut up and do what he was told in a way that Remus had never been able to comprehend. And this was just what happened to kids who didn’t do what they were told. That was Shane’s job, after all. He got a high rank for it too. According to him The Light have really cared about crushing dissension. But that didn’t change the fact that Remus probably would have been more willing to listen to his reasoning about Roman if the bruise on his face wasn’t screaming it’s protest.

But he was right about the fact that far more people liked Roman than him. Remus was mostly okay with that, because there were three people he was pretty sure liked him well enough. One was Roman himself, and the other two were their new and closest friends, Patton and Logan. Patton and he didn’t always get along perfectly, since he didn’t love the way Remus always roped him into plans to steal food from the kitchen; but he never got the impression that Patton liked Roman more than him. And Logan was fun to talk to about weird stuff. Remus could tell him about the rotting carcass he found outside, and while Patton and Roman would both be grossed out, Logan would ask him all sorts of questions as to what he thought the animal was, what it looked like, how decomposed it was at that point.

And then of course, Roman. Even if Roman had loved himself more than Remus (which frankly wouldn’t surprise him, given the size of his ego), Remus would have loved him anyway, because he was Roman. And Remus had to protect him. There was nothing saying Shane wasn’t just as likely to hurt Roman if he fucked up. Remus couldn’t let that happen.

Which is why he was pretty sure this was a bad idea.

Remus followed Logan and Patton out the door and onto the roof, pulling Roman behind him and not letting go of his hand. Stealing food from the kitchen was one thing, but sneaking out at night? Remus took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to look like a coward and voice concerns about getting caught. That was Patton’s job. Besides, he could always say it was his idea. That had convinced Shane to leave his brother alone in the past.

And Logan was right. Shooting stars looked really cool.

“Look, look!” Logan cried, far more excitement in his voice than usual. “That’s Aries!”

“I thought we were out here to look at shooting stars,” Patton said, sitting down next to where Logan had plopped himself down on the roof.

“We are, but I just learned how to find that constellation!” Logan called happily. Logan had found a contraband book on astronomy recently and had not stopped studying since. He’d begun to teach the rest of them too. Remus was finding it interesting enough that he kept listening.

“Alright.” Logan pulled that contraband book out of his jacket and set it open on the ground in front of them. “So shooting stars aren’t actually stars at all.”

“What?” Roman asked around a yawn. “Why’re they called shootin’ stars then?”

“Because that’s what they look like! But actually, they’re chunks of rocks burning up in the atmosphere!”

Remus’ eyes widened and he leaned over Logan’s shoulder. “They’re on fire?”

“They are!” Logan called, beaming at him. “They almost always burn up before they even hit the ground, but the burning is what lets us see them!”

“That’s awesome,” Remus said, looking up at the chunks of burning rock falling through the sky. “What happens if they don’t burn up?”

“Uh… I don’t know. I haven’t gotten to that part in the book yet,” Logan said, looking down at the textbook in his lap. “I think it makes some kind of crater.”

“Tell me when you get there!” Remus said, leaning against Logan’s side and looking down at the book too.

“Will do,” Logan said, smiling over at him. Remus grinned back and they both looked up at the stars above the four of them. Patton was watching, but he still looked exhausted, and Roman lasted another second before he leaned against Remus’ shoulder and fell asleep. But Remus and Logan would be up for many hours yet.

…

Remus, after the discovery that astronomy included things like burning rocks flying through the sky and explosions out in space, joined Logan far more often for stargazing and sessions to read his book. That was good for a long while, long enough that Remus could now name all the constellations and was able to use the stars to navigate if he had to. Roman and Patton joined them on quite a few stargazing sessions as well, but they often fell asleep in the way that Logan and Remus never did.

By the time Remus turned 11 it had been several years since the two had needed the book, but that didn’t mean that Remus didn’t remember what it looked like, and he recognized it instantly when Shane dropped it on the table in front of him.

Remus had weekly meetings with Shane, bi-weekly if he happened to seriously fuck up that week in some way. He hadn’t thought the book would be coming up in tonight’s meeting. He looked at it for a second and decided that it was safest to not say anything just yet.

“This was found in Logan’s room,” Shane said. “Do you recognize it?”

Remus wasn’t sure why he was being asked this question instead of Logan, but he wasn’t going to complain. If there was a way to get Logan out of this safely, he would take it. He nodded.

“So you’ve been studying contraband books,” Shane said, his voice dropped to a dangerous low. Remus squeezed his hands together under the table. He wished Shane would sit down. It wasn’t usually a good sign when Remus was sitting and he was standing.

“It was my idea,” Remus said.

Shane raised his hand, and Remus had a second to brace himself before he was smacked across the cheek. He held back a wince. Those never put Shane in a better mood.

“Do you think I care whose idea it was?” Shane asked. “Logan would at least have an excuse. He’s going to be a strategist. He needs to know how to plot locations, and stars are a helpful tool for that. You are a soldier. Strong. Silent. Replaceable. You don’t need to think. Understand?”

Remus looked down at the table and nodded. Oh, he’d forgotten about the way he’d folded in so many of those pages. It had driven Logan crazy. He’d complained that Remus was going to ruin the only book they had. But the book looked almost fine today, so Logan was obviously wrong about that one.

“I don’t want to hear about anything like this again,” Shane said, picking up the book and setting it down in his bag. “Get out of here before I decide you deserve worse.”

Remus climbed up from the chair and walked over to the door, thoughts buzzing through his head. He shut the door after him. He wasn’t sure why Shane talked to him if the book was found in Logan’s room. Wouldn’t that kind of automatically make it Logan's fault?

Remus shook himself slightly. He shouldn’t be complaining about getting a chance to take the fall for Logan. He would much rather it be his fault than Logan’s. But didn’t mean the fact that he was the only one yelled at didn’t still rub him the wrong way. Remus would blame that for his next decision of heading straight for Logan’s room and shaking him awake.

“Who’s there?” Logan asked, reaching for his glasses on his bedside table.

“It’s me,” Remus said, picking them up and handing them over to Logan. “You wanna go stargazing?”

…

Patton and Remus didn’t have a ton in common, but Remus found some fascinating things to learn in the fact that Patton was training to be a doctor, so he got to look at super gross injuries all the time. Remus would tag along sometimes to see how to treat a broken bone, or a nasty stab wound, or a concussion.

Sometimes Patton treated him when Shane was a little too rough. He felt like a safer person to go to than any of the actual doctors. Remus was pretty sure Patton just thought he was clumsy. He wasn’t expecting that to change, like it ended up doing one night when they were both fourteen.

It had been a bad night. Remus wasn’t sure he could make it until morning without some kind of medical care or he’d be up all night in pain and unable to sleep. He made his way to Patton’s room and knocked on the door before walking in.

Patton was rubbing his eyes and sitting up in bed as Remus made his way over to sit down.

“Hey, it’s me,” Remus said, as Patton grabbed his glasses and put them on. “Can you—”

“Oh my goodness, Remus! You look terrible, what happened?”

“I fell down the stairs,” Remus lied. “I think my nose is broken.”

“Oh no,” Patton said, throwing the covers back and taking Remus gently by the arm, pulling them both out of his room and towards the medbay. Remus winced and decided not to tell Patton he was holding the area where he was pretty sure a bruise was already forming.

They had this kind of thing down to a science at this point. Patton grabbed the bruise cream and bandages, wrapping the cuts that Remus had and putting the cream on the areas Remus pointed him to.

“There’s not much I can do for your nose,” Patton said. “It’s not broken in any way I need to adjust, so you’re just going to have to not touch it and wait for it to heal.”

“Yeah, okay,” Remus said, knowing very well that Shane would not be holding up that idea.

“Remus.”

Remus glanced up.

“This is far too many injuries for you to have gotten from falling down the stairs.”

Remus bit his lip. “It was the big stairs. The ones on the third floor.”

“Remus,” Patton whispered. “Did someone do this to you?”

Remus didn’t say anything.

“Who?” Patton said, and Remus had to do a double take at the sudden amount of anger in his voice. “Remus, who did this?”

“I’m sorry,” Remus said on instinct.

“It’s not— Remus, it’s not your fault,” Patton whispered, sounding two steps away from horrified.

“But I was the one who messed up in training,” Remus protested, looking down at his bandaged hands. “And James got hurt. So now— now I know what he felt like.”

Patton was silent for a few seconds too long, and Remus was about to look up again when Patton took his face in his hands and raised it for him.

“Remus, who did this to you?” he said, and the anger on his face took Remus’ breath away. He whispered Shane’s name and realized a second after that he definitely shouldn’t have done that.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” he said suddenly, pulling Patton’s hands down from his face and clutching them desperately. “Patton, please.”

“Remus, you— I can’t let this keep happening,” Patton said. “I can’t see you like this and do nothing.”

“Sure you can! I do nothing about this all the time! It’s easy!”

“Remus, no,” Patton said, shaking his head. “I can’t.”

“But—”

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright,” Patton said, reaching out and pulling Remus into a hug. “I promise, okay?”

Remus shook his head, bumping it into Patton’s. “But—”

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be alright, okay?”

Remus didn’t say anything else. He clearly wasn’t going to change Patton’s mind on this. Patton ended up checking him over one last time and then they both went back to bed, Remus with a very uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. He should have just gone to bed and sucked it up until the next morning. It would have been fine. Dammit, he was such a wimp.

…

Remus didn’t have any idea how much he’d fucked up until Shane found him the next morning. He grabbed Remus by the arm with no warning, and dragged him back away from the direction he’d been heading in while Remus tried not to whimper from the pain. Shane had to have known that was a bad spot to grab.

When Shane finally stopped they were outside the meeting room. He yanked the door open and threw Remus inside. Remus thankfully landed before his head reached the table leg, but that didn’t mean his still-sore body wasn’t screaming what the fuck are you doing at him.

“Remus!” called a familiar voice, and that is when Remus realized exactly why he was here.

He pulled his head off the floor half a second before Shane grabbed him by the hair and yanked him up the rest of the way.

Remus yelped and reached up on instinct. Shane slammed his head down on the table and Remus barely managed to stop the cry that escaped.

“Stop! Stop it!” Patton exclaimed, and Remus heard his footsteps running over towards the table. He managed to move his head to look over when Shane shifted to look in the same direction.

Shane snapped his fingers, and a guard grabbed Patton and held him back.

“Now, Remus,” Shane said, getting much closer to Remus’ face. “Would you like to explain to me why Patton told a supervisor that I am hurting you?”

“You—” Patton started.

Shane lifted up and slammed Remus’ head down again, glaring towards Patton the whole time, and Patton whimpered and stopped talking.

“Well, Remus?” Shane asked.

“I— I needed help,” Remus wheezed. “After last night, so I asked him to help me and he guessed that—”

Shane reached forward and pressed hard on Remus’ nose. Remus screamed and tried to get out from under Shane’s hand, but he couldn’t get anywhere, and Shane just waited until he stopped moving again to remove his hand from his nose.

Yeah, Patton was definitely crying in the background now.

“You have known for years that you’re not allowed to tell anyone,” Shane said. “And you told him that I was hurting you, as if everything I’ve done has not been to help you improve.”

“I— I didn’t—” Remus said weakly, and cut himself off when he realized he was being an idiot. A second too late, though, because Shane now moved forward slightly and slammed his free elbow into Remus’ nose.

Remus shrieked, and though Shane finally let go of his head, he couldn’t find it in him to do much other than curl his hands around his head and wait for the pain to stop.

“This is what is going to happen if you tell anyone again,” Shane said. “Do you understand?”

Remus nodded, whimpering out an apology, although he wasn’t sure if Shane was talking to him or Patton.

“Good. Somehow it seems you can do that right,” Shane said, stepping back from Remus. Remus waited until he heard two sets of footsteps retreating and a door closing to move.

He’d barely managed to lift his head when Patton was in front of him, still crying, and gently started looking over Remus’ head while whispering apologies over and over.

“Patton, I’m fine,” Remus said. “It’s okay, you don’t need to—”

“Yes I do,” Patton said weakly, looking at the spot where Remus’ head had been slammed against the table multiple times. He sniffed and wiped at the tears coming from his eyes with his free hand.

“You’re— you’re gonna have a bump there,” Patton whispered. “But I don’t think you have a concussion. I— I have to realign your nose.”

Remus nodded, trying to show he wasn’t mad. “Okay.”

Patton started to reach for his nose, then stopped halfway and buried his head in his hands.

“It’s okay,” Remus said instantly.

“I’m so sorry,” Patton sobbed, moving to wrap his arms around Remus. “I was— I was trying to help I thought— I thought—”

“It’s okay,” Remus said again. “Patton, it’s okay. I’m used to it.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Patton just started crying even harder. It was another minute or so before Patton finally pulled back, still crying but looking back at Remus’ nose again. “This is going to hurt,” he whispered.

Remus nodded.

Patton snapped something back into place and Remus screamed through his teeth but managed not to move in case Patton wasn’t done.

“Don’t— don’t touch it okay?” Patton whispered. “And try not to let Shane touch it. Just until it heals.”

Remus mumbled some kind of affirmation, and Patton dropped his hands to his sides, then lifted one up to wipe his tears again.

Remus wasn’t sure quite what to say. After a moment he just turned back to Patton. “Let’s go eat breakfast.”

Patton nodded, wiped his eyes one more time, and they both headed out of the room and towards the cafeteria. Patton managed to stop crying on the way there, and he stopped in a bathroom on the way to the cafeteria to wipe his face better. Remus waited outside and they headed in together.

Roman and Logan were already in the middle of one of their many debates by the time the two of them walked up to the table.

Roman noticed them first, being opposite Logan who had their back to them, and glanced up with a smile. “Oh hey, what’s going— oh holy shit Remus what happened to you?!”

Remus wasn’t sure what to say anymore, as there were too many things Roman could be talking about. “I, uh…” He sat down next to Logan as he tried to come up with an answer.

“He’s fine,” Patton said, moving over to sit next to Roman. “I just helped patch him up a little bit ago. He fell down the stairs.”

…

Patton became Remus’ go-to person for help if he needed it after his meetings with Shane. Shane never seemed to say anything about it, though he’d threatened Patton a couple times about what would happen if he told anyone.

Patton had promised he wouldn’t, though, and Shane seemed to believe him when Roman or Logan went on knowing nothing about what was happening. Overtime, the lying seemed to get easier for Patton, in exactly the way it started to get harder for Remus.

He’d never felt like he was lying when no one else knew. It was easy to give his excuses when he had to convince three people, in a way that it suddenly wasn’t when he felt like he was conspiring with Patton.

The other side of it was that Patton genuinely made things easier. He helped Remus when he was hurt badly enough, and after a while Shane seemed to approve of the way Patton wasn’t telling anyone anything.

But the way Patton improved things almost made Remus feel guilty. Patton didn’t deserve to be dragged into his mess. If Remus had been dealing with this for more than a decade at this point and still couldn’t get anything right, maybe Shane had the right idea and he needed some kind of rougher punishment. He wasn’t going to tell Patton that, of course. Patton would just start crying again or get that look that meant he wanted to murder whoever made Remus feel that way. And Remus wasn’t exactly sure he wasn’t supposed to feel that way.

Besides, his least favorite change just proved how much he couldn’t handle all of this, because somehow his brain had decided the worst part of the whole thing was the way Shane was now having him explain everything he’d done wrong himself. He said that at this point Remus should have been old enough to understand what he did wrong. And he was probably right, but for some reason Remus left every session where that was all they did feeling worse than if Shane had broken his nose ten times. At least when he was beaten to pulp he had a reason for feeling like a worthless piece of shit. Why did he feel worse when all they did was talk? There wasn’t even anything for Patton to help with. He should be fine.

He tried to take solace in the fact that at least Logan and Roman didn’t know, because sometimes the way Patton looked at him like he was a kicked puppy hurt too. He still got to stargaze with Logan, and he’d sat in on a few strategizing sessions before. He made suggestions to Logan afterwards that he said he could use as long as he never said they came from Remus. Logan seemed baffled by this request. He always called Remus’ contributions brilliant, and Remus wasn’t sure why he kept lying. Was he just trying to make him feel better? That didn’t seem very much like Logan.

Roman… he didn’t want Shane to affect his relationship with his brother, but he couldn’t say the way Roman seemed completely at ease around Shane didn’t bug the hell out of him sometimes. There were times he’d considering finding a way to tell Roman for half a second before the voice in his head starting screaming at him what a terrible idea that was.

Remus was twenty-three when he realized Roman just didn’t care.

It had been a really awful night. Patton was still in the process of wrapping a cut on his arm from where Shane had been doing target practice with those new knives that had been made. It hadn’t even done anything more than nick him, but Remus hadn’t been able to stop shaking since. He felt like a weakling.

Patton had been murmuring quiet reassurances the whole time, and it at least created a peaceful enough feeling that Remus was starting to calm down.

That feeling broke completely in half when the door banged open and Roman ran in.

“Oh good, you’re both here!” Roman called.

“Yeah and what the fuck are you doing here?” Remus snapped, whirling around as his heart leapt into his throat. “Can’t you see we’re busy? Get out!”

Roman jumped in surprise and jerked backwards. “Jeez, what the hell Re? What’s your deal, I haven’t even told you why I’m here yet.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Patton said, pulling Remus back down. “Careful, you’re going to tear the bandages.”

“Bandages?” Roman asked. “Shit, what happened?” He walked forward in concern as Remus turned back around, still trying to calm his shaking hands as Patton started to wrap the bandages again.

“Knife practice,” Remus muttered. “Just got nicked.”

There was a second of silence, and suddenly Roman laughed.

Remus turned to look at him in surprise. “Seriously, that’s it?” Roman asked with a smile. “Dude, you fell down the stairs and broke your nose as a kid and were still in training that afternoon.”

“Roman,” Patton said, sounding surprised and a little angry.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Roman said, waving his hands dismissively. “But honestly, Remus, you would think with everything you go through you’d be used to it by now.”

Remus’ hands stopped shaking. He turned and looked at his shoes as Patton finished wrapping his cut. “Did you need something?” he muttered.

“Oh, yeah! Logan said he could spot the start of the spring constellations last night! He told me to come get you two and then we’re gonna raid the kitchens to celebrate! Stephanie had a birthday last week, there’s gonna be cake!” He sung the last word in a lighthearted tone that meant that was the part he was really looking forward to.

“We’ll be right there,” Patton said, half paying attention as he gave the bandages one last look over and then moved to put the medical supplies away.

“Awesome! See you there!” Roman called, and turned and jogged out the door.

“You alright?” Patton said quietly, even as he headed for the door too, clearly assuming Remus was going to follow.

“I’m fine,” Remus said finally. He stood up and started to follow Patton. It was just a tiny knife nick. Stop thinking about it. “I… I need a minute.”

Patton turned again. “You want me to tell them you’re taking a rain check?”

Feeling even more like a wimp, Remus nodded.

“Okay.” Patton gave him a small smile. “See you at breakfast, Remus.” He walked out, leaving Remus alone.

“You would think with everything you go through you’d be used to it by now.”

Remus squeezed his eyes shut. What the hell did that mean? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Remus stopped walking as a thought struck him. Did… did Roman know? That sentence certainly suggested it. Remus thought about all the times he walked back into their shared room late at night bruised, bleeding, or miserable. Roman would look up at him, ask him if he was good, and go back to what he’d been doing like that decided that, and that was if he was still awake.

Oh, fuck. Of course he knew. Remus was such an idiot. How could he not have known?

…Why didn’t he care?

Remus could think of countless times throughout the years that he had taken the fall for something Roman had screwed up. Roman would get a firm talking to and a warning while Remus would take the brunt of the punishment, just so he wouldn’t have to. And Roman didn’t even care that he’d done that? He just expected him to be used to it?

Remus made it over to the door and looked out to the right, the direction Patton and Roman had gone in. Patton had caught up to Roman and they were both rounding the corner, Roman laughing and Patton starting to smile.

Remus looked down and took a deep breath. Then he left the room and ran in the other direction.

He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going, but his feet seemed to have some kind of plan that his brain didn’t, because he kept sprinting through the halls and didn’t slow down. It was a goddamn miracle that he didn’t meet up with any guards. He had caught the tail end of the morning shift and the beginning of breakfast, which was probably the main part of it.

He made it to the exit, and finally stopped. There were guards there now. Someone was climbing into one of those mechanical vehicles they were testing, the kind that looked like the horse-drawn carriage of Remus’ childhood without the horse. That meant there was a place to crouch on the back of it.

The guards walked off after making sure everything was secure. Remus waited until they went around the corner across from his not-really-a-hiding-place, then ran for the carriage and jumped on the back before he could really think about what he was doing. He looked behind the carriage as it exited the doors, and stood up as they approached the guards by the gate.

“Bodyguard,” Remus said, nodding at them as they passed and thanking his lucky stars this carriage was closed. They nodded back, and the vehicle started into town.

They’d made it to the edge and Remus hopped off, taking a breath. And then he realized what he’d just done.

Holy shit. Remus looked around, trying desperately to come up with a plan. He needed to get away from this village, and fast. And he needed to make sure The Light couldn’t track him. That meant he needed clothes.

Clothes, clothes… ah ha. House. He could try out a little thievery along with his escape attempt. That shirt and cloak looked like they would work well. And then if he could find the docks everyone talked about being nearby, he could add stowaway to the whole thing too.

Yeah, this could work. This was working.

Time to become a clothing thief and not think about the way that your brother doesn’t care if you get hurt or not. No big deal.

…

It took Remus barely a couple minutes to realize what a crime it was that he had not been on a pirate ship before today.

Okay, granted, it may not be fair to call these people he had never met pirates. He had no real way of knowing if they were. Technically he had never seen any of them, as the second he’d managed to sneak past the crew he’d hidden beneath the deck in what appeared to be a cargo hold, and pushed a number of boxes against the door so that no one could open it. He had then proceeded to look out a window in hopes of watching them cast off, only to then discover that apparently this particular potentially-pirate ship could fucking fly. Well, he’d figured the propellers he’d seen on the back had to be used for something, but holy shit.

“I should have left The Light years ago,” Remus breathed to no one, craning to look out the window as much as he could. This would no doubt be a much more awe-inspiring experience if he could have been on the deck to watch the ship launch into the air holy shit, but it was still incredible to watch the water and the village that he’d left behind grow smaller beneath him. He had originally planned on staying on this ship just long enough to make it to another village or other land of some sort, but Remus felt it was safe to say that plan was now under thorough revision.

The ship leveled out in the air after a couple minutes of soaring upwards and Remus staring out the window grinning like he was seven years old again and Logan had just found the contraband astronomy book.

He wasn’t sure how long the journey was going to take if they were airborne, but now that he was actually gone and reasonably safe so long as no one discovered him, Remus could move on to the next problem on his list— food.

He was pretty sure he’d passed a kitchen on the panicked rush down here, but getting there when no one else was would be the issue. Obviously he’d have to wait until after everyone was asleep, but that unfortunately left him who knows how many hours of staying down here and craning his head out the window.

Remus sat on a crate and leaned back against the wall of the ship. Or he could always sleep. He definitely needed some way to regain energy, and if he didn’t have any access to food, sleep could do.

Remus looked warily at the door he’d blocked. He was fairly confident in it holding, but that didn’t mean he should take a stupid risk.

He tucked his legs underneath him. He supposed whether or not taking a nap was a smart idea depended on whether or not the people on this ship would instantly kill him if they discovered him.

…And he supposed that probably depended on whether or not these people were pirates.

Roman would probably be able to charm any of them and barely have to try. He probably wouldn’t even have had to steal civilian clothes like Remus had. He wasn’t a terrible actor if he tried, but he rarely had the attention span to actually do so, and most of his efforts there were already taken up by hiding so many things from Roman and Logan.

Maybe he should have brought Roman along.

No, he decided barely a second later. Roman apparently would have snitched or called him out for the coward he was being, running from Shane like it was something he wasn’t supposed to be able to handle.

Remus stifled a yawn and gave one last glance at the door before deciding it was worth it and he needed to sleep. He shifted so he could lean against the wall in a more comfortable position, and fell asleep as his eyes barely slipped shut.

It felt like a couple seconds later when someone called “What the fuck is this?” and Remus jerked awake. The door on the other side of the room was open partially.

“Dammit, who moved the boxes in front of the door again? If it was fucking Steven—”

Remus climbed down off the box as quickly and quietly as he could and ducked behind the one next to it. He took a couple second to take deep breaths to try and shake off being woken abruptly.

He had mostly calmed down by the time the person at the door managed to shove the boxes away from it and enter. He had at least calmed down to the point that he could breathe quietly. The person across the room was grumbling about killing someone named Steven later, and sounded so angry that Remus took a moment to offer his condolences to this Steven person that he had never met.

He heard the person fumble with some boxes on the other side of the room, and felt a slight bit of relief for as long as it took for the person to then cross the room and open the box right about his head.

Shit.

Remus held his breath and waited for a good ten seconds as the person rummaged in the box above him. Eventually the noise stopped.

Please be putting the lid back and leaving, please be putting the lid back and leaving, please be—

“Excuse me?”

Dammit.

Remus looked up and met gazes with a person who looked a mixture of surprised and angry at what was happening right now.

“Might I ask who you are?”

“…I was hired by the captain to check the cargo hold for spiders,” Remus said.

“Oh, I see. What’s the captain’s name?”

“…Peter Pumpkineater.”

The person above him did not look amused. They turned halfway behind them and called out. “Jackson! We have a stowaway!”

Remus leapt up and launched himself off the wall and over the person’s head. He could thank training for that. Before the person could react he was sprinting towards the door and the person who had shown up in it, who Remus imagined must have been Jackson. He slid down onto the ground and between his legs, then leapt up again and ran for the stairs he’d seen earlier. He sprinted back who must have been the crew, but caught enough of them by surprise and managed to elbow the others into the wall or leap over their heads. He made it to the stairs and got up them in a couple large strides… where he was now stuck on the deck of a ship in mid air.

How exactly had he expected this plan to go again?

Remus was going to make a last desperate dash for the crow’s nest (that’s what it was called, right?) when he was finally snatched up by the hood of his cloak that he’d stolen because it made him look like a peasant. He was severely regretting that decision now.

“So,” said the person, who had shifted so he now had him by the arm. He spun Remus around so they were both facing the rest of the crew that was emerging from below deck and walking around from the other side of it. “Would any of the crew of this ship, who are supposed to check for stowaways before we launch, like to explain what exactly this person is doing here?”

Remus heard another firm set of footfalls behind the person who was holding on to him. He turned to see who couldn’t have been anyone but the captain. He was wearing one of those hats that Remus always thought was stupid, and a long cloak. The way he stood also made clear that he had authority over everything happening right now. The snake tattoos on the side of his face were a little unorthodox, Remus thought, although he supposed he had no real way to know.

“No? No one wants to speak up?” the person holding Remus asked, and Remus looked back over at him. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to ask the stowaway himself. Care to explain?”

The person turned to face him. He had the same look that Shane did whenever he was clearly viewing Remus as stupid for not speaking up yet.

…He was not doing this again.

Remus reeled back slightly and spit in the person’s face.

There was a moment of stunned silence, and then the captain burst into laughter behind them. Remus and the other person both turned in shock to face him.

“Janus!” the other person snapped, wiping Remus’ spit off his face.

“Oh, that was brilliant,” Janus said. “You,” he pointed at Remus. “You have the audacity to— oh, I like you.”

Remus wasn’t quite sure what was happening right now. Clearly the other person did, as he was now looking remarkably irritated. “Janus!”

Janus continued to laugh for another couple seconds while the other person continued to glare. “This is why Dad doesn’t fucking respect you!” he yelled.

Janus gasped in a way that was clearly not offended in the slightest. “I am wounded.” He glanced over at Remus. “You’re coming to my quarters. We’re having a chat.” He then glanced at the crew behind them. “And everyone else, get back to work! I’m not paying you to stand around and stare at stowaways who spit in Virgil’s face.”

Everyone else on the deck clearly wasn’t nearly as intimidated by Janus as he thought they were, because they reacted as if that wasn’t worrying of any kind, and took their sweet time ambling either back below deck or back to whatever job they’d been doing before.

Janus turned back to Remus, and Virgil finally let go of his arm. “Well then?”

“I’m not going to go into a closed space with you,” Remus said instantly. “You could stab me and drag my guts out through my stomach.”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “Heard some nasty stories about pirates, have you?”

“So you are pirates. Nice to know. Still not going into any enclosed spaces.”

Janus shrugged. “Fair enough. Come on, we can talk up here.” He turned and started towards the back of the ship, where two sets of stairs on opposite sides led to the wheel. Virgil took a step closer to Remus and raised an eyebrow. Remus stuck out his tongue and followed Janus back to and up the stairs. They stopped in front of the wheel, which Janus adjusted slightly before turning to face Remus again, as Virgil leaned against the barrier to the rest of the ship that was behind the wheel.

“So,” Janus said, raising an eyebrow. “How did you manage to not be found?”

“I hid in the cargo hold,” Remus said, because there was no real reason to hide such a thing. “Shoved a bunch of boxes in front of the door. It’s not my fault your crew sucks at figuring out when someone’s sneaking past them.”

Janus raised an eyebrow, looking more amused than anything else. “You should watch yourself. Insulting a captain’s crew while standing three feet from him is generally not a smart move.”

“Neither is spitting in the first mate’s face, and you didn’t seem to have any issues with that,” Virgil grumbled.

“Well don’t look at me like I’m an idiot then,” Remus snapped before Janus could reply. “I managed to avoid getting captured by all of you long enough to take a fucking nap in the cargo hold.”

Remus expected Virgil to scowl or snap back, but all that happened was that he gave him a curious look. “What gave the impression that I thought you were an idiot? It can’t be easy to sneak past an entire crew, even if they are preoccupied with a launch.”

Remus wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. Virgil had done the look. The look always meant he’d done something stupid.

Somehow, Virgil seemed to understand what Remus was thinking about. “That’s the tone and look I use when the crew is being stupid,” he said. “You were just caught in the crossfire. It had nothing to do with you. I barely even know you, how could I have an opinion of you?”

That… was a fair point.

“Well, you know, other than the fact that you snuck onto my ship when we weren’t expecting you and stowaways aren’t generally something you want,” Virgil continued with a casual wave, like his last sentence hadn’t even mattered.

“It’s my ship,” Janus said, shooting Virgil a not-at-all-irritated look. “And I decide how we feel about stowaways. Besides, I like this one. He spit in your face.”

“Wow, love you too, Jan,” Virgil grumbled.

Janus turned back to face Remus again, raising an eyebrow. “Where are you from?”

The answer came to Remus’ mind and a million memories ran through his head in half a second. Raiding the kitchens as a group of four, even as Patton whispered every time how this was the last time he was doing this. Tackling Roman in training, or away from the good breakfast food, or just because he wanted to. Stargazing with Logan pointing at stars and naming them. Wednesday night meetings with Shane, filled with berating and bruising, coming back to his room with injuries to hide from his brother. Going to Patton the miracle nurse when his injuries were too bad to ignore. And then the very recent and still painful memory of Roman brushing off Shane like he wasn’t a big deal when he apparently knew everything Shane did to him.

Remus considered for a second saying this. He could probably cover everything with something along the lines of “Well, I grew up in The Light and I had this supervisor who would hurt me all the time which is of course very normal because my brother and my friend knows about it and never seemed to think it was a big deal, but I apparently can’t deal with it anymore without being a pussy, so I ran away and now I’m here. Wait, you guys don’t hate soldiers from The Light, do you? Because if you do I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”

Yeah. Yeah, bad idea. He might have been famous for those, but he didn’t really want to walk the plank today. Wait, was that actually something pirates did?

“I,” Remus said instead. “Grew up in the rural town of Buttfuck Nowhere.”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “Does this town of yours have an actual name?”

“You probably haven’t heard of it, it’s called Potsfield,” Remus said.

It seemed to convince Janus if his small nod was anything to go by. “Potsfield?”

“Yeah, town that’s truly going nowhere. I’ve had a very tragic life. You know, house burned down when I was a baby, grew up in an orphanage with no family or siblings of any kind, decided I didn’t want to die in obscurity, started traveling from town to town looking for some way to make a name for myself, ran out of money and needed a ride, and here I am.”

Janus nodded again. “Uh-huh.” He glanced back at Virgil for a minute. Remus couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

Virgil shrugged. “Hey, you’re the one who said this is your ship.”

“Okay,” Janus said. “Well, that was clearly the most bullshit story I have ever heard.”

“What? No, I—”

“Relax. I’m not going to make you share your past if you don’t want to. But if you’re going to stay here—”

“That’s an option?” Remus interrupted in surprise.

“If you want to. Virgil can show you the ropes.”

“You’re sticking me with training duty?” Virgil asked, sounding more than a little irritated.

“Oh, you’ll get along swimmingly. Look at how great your first impression was.” Janus looked back at Remus. “Would you want to stay here?”

“You have a flying pirate ship. Who wouldn’t?”

Janus laughed. “Fair enough. But my point is, if you’re staying here, we need to know you won’t bring anything else with you. You don’t have to share your past if you don’t want to, but is it going to bring any kind of danger?”

“No,” Remus said instantly. He hadn’t been anything other than a base level soldier, who knew no important information of any kind. “No one from my life is going to care that I’m gone.”

Janus nodded. “Alright. Then I don’t see any issues with you staying here. Virgil can help show you how to do some jobs on the ship, and lunch is in a couple hours. We can talk more then, because there’s a couple other things we’ll have to—”

“Janus!” a voice called from down below. “The stowaway moved all of the cargo around!”

Remus winced and looked back over at Janus, who thankfully looked more amused than irritated. “Alright, Virgil will be there in just a second to help!” he called.

“I hate you,” Virgil said, glaring at Janus, even as he headed down to help the person who had called up to him.

Remus glanced back at Janus, who was moving back towards the steering wheel. He wasn’t quite sure what to do next since Janus had just sent the person who was supposed to train him down to the cargo hold to fix the mess he’d caused. Which was weird. Remus was supposed to clean up his own messes and get beaten up when he inevitably did something wrong.

Remus blinked as a thought struck him. If he had snuck onto these people’s ship and hidden in their cargo hold, and they’d welcomed him onto their ship and were apparently going to let him stay without raising a single hand against him, maybe… maybe they wouldn’t?

The next second Remus wanted to laugh. That was ridiculous. Just because they hadn’t done so yet didn’t mean they wouldn’t reach that point eventually. It was fine. Remus was used to it anyway, he could take it. The more important part of this morning was the fact that he… wasn’t in The Light anymore.

Holy shit. That was going to take some getting used to. He was going to have to spend some time thinking about that. He wasn’t even sure where to start.

Remus looked across the ship and into the sky beyond. Below them was water, around them were actual clouds. He took in the wind blowing his hair back from his face, the sunlight shining off the water below, the birds flying next to them, how clean the air felt. He took a deep breath and decided that he very much understood people’s love of sea air. He could get high off this shit.

He was pretty sure Janus was watching him with amusement from nearby, but he couldn’t really find it in himself to care. He was away from Shane, away from The Light, away from the place that had made him spend his life in darkness and pain.

Remus took a deep breath of cold sea air.

So this is what freedom felt like.

Chapter Two

#sanders sides #remus sanders #roman sanders #pirates #rebellion #angst #abuse #tw abuse #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #my fic

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danny-chase · 3 years

Note

if you want, maybe you could do "severed artery" with Dick and have Roy (or one of the other Titans) take care of him? love your writing and I hope you're having a nice day!

AHH thank you so much! I hope you enjoy!

Severed Artery - read on AO3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Titans (Comics), Nightwing (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Roy Harper & Dick Grayson Characters: Roy Harper, Dick Grayson, Garth (DCU), Donna Troy (minor) Additional Tags: Can be read as pre-slash, POV Roy Harper, POV Dick Grayson, vomitting, Blood, Guns, Hospitals, Canon-Typical Violence, dick is a little shit, Roy is a Little Shit, Homophobia, Roy Harper Needs a Hug, Roy Harper gets/gives a hug, Dick Grayson Whump, Roy Harper emotional whump, Protective Roy Harper, Hurt Dick Grayson, Garth is the best, Titans as family, Confused Dick Grayson, Medical Inaccuracies Series: Part 6 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

Dick and Roy are little shits to each other, until the night takes a turn for the worse.

Full story under cut

“Aight, Donna, you ready to go?” Roy chirped, taking a second to look himself over in the mirror, running his fingers through his (surprisingly) soft hair (he’d be stealing Dick’s shampoo more often) – getting that perfect messy, but stylish look. He fired off finger guns at his reflection – he was killing it, somehow listening to Gar of people had worked out – he gave shockingly good fashion advice.

Feeling optimistic, he sauntered into the hall, only to be met with Donna’s confused expression.

“Roy, I’m going out with the girls tonight, I told you like four times.” She leaned against the wall, gesturing to Jesse and Toni, car keys dangling from her hand. Jesse stared at him, an eyebrow cocked judgmentally, as Toni smiled, offering a little wave. He waved back, watching Jesse’s expression morph into disapproval.

“Hey, I didn’t even do anything!” He complained, glaring at Jesse. She rolled her eyes, not deigning to verbally respond. Ice queen.

Reaching out, Donna patted his shoulder, waiting until he met her eyes. “I’m sorry, hun, but we’ve got tickets to a concert, could we go out next weekend?” She fluttered her eyelids slightly, sending chills up his spine. “Why don’t you take one of the boys with you?”

“Terrible company, but babe, have fun, I’ll figure something out.” He cupped her chin in his hand, leaning forward to peck a kiss to the top of her head, ignoring the fact she squatted down to make the moment work.

“Mm, thanks.” With that, the girls were off for the night, leaving him stranded in a deserted hallway.

Well. He could do what Donna suggested and take out one of the guys – he had the reservation, and Lian was already situated with the sitter. But which guy was the question… Wally was out with the league, Garth was visiting home, Vic was with Gar, and Grant had a date. Which left Dick – no - Dick was busy working – actually yes – he likely needed a break.

Actually – was he even here?

He started towards the central control room, poking a head in Dick’s room on the way and had to do a double take.

“You’re actually in your room?” Dick threw a pencil at him without looking up from his desk, child’s play to dodge – Dick speak for hmm, maybe something like ‘asshole’, but he took it as an invitation to enter. But if Dick was going to call him an asshole, he had expectations to live up to.

He took a standing leap, twisting and flopping across Dick’s immaculately made bed, sending blankets and pillows careening off the side. Dick ignored him, scribbling down some notes on a pad of paper. Roy waited for a few minutes, listening to the scratch of pen on paper. Quick and noisy – Dick was likely stressed – he was pushing down harder than normal; he gave it an eighty/twenty chance something was up.

Ripping paper proved him right, as Dick frustratedly crumpled up the page of notes, throwing them behind him, hitting the recycling bin with ease. Groaning, he dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his eyes.

“Showoff.” Dick startled, jumping out of his chair, Roy’s own reflexes were the only thing that saved him from taking a pen between the eyes.

“What the fuck, Richard?!” He yelled, yanking the little missile out of the air. A faint flush tinted the top of Dick’s ears.

“I forgot you were there.” The admission was almost too quiet to hear, but combined with the minute sign of embarrassment, it rang of truth. Roy could milk this, oh he totally could.

“What was that, why did you almost kill me?” If he played his cards right, he wouldn’t be dining alone tonight.

“I didn’t think you were…” Dick trailed off, glaring at him. “You heard what I said.” He retorted, catching on. Sucks to suck, Dickie – he was obviously tired if that spooked him – he was likely running on caffeine.

“Oh, you misunderstand.” Scooching off the edge of the bed, he hopped lightly onto the balls of his feet. “Why’d the batboy forget I was there, hmm?” He pulled a half-eaten energy bar off the desk, inspecting the wrapper. Dick casually rocked back in his chair.

“See, completely decaf, I told you I’d-” Roy yanked open a drawer, Dick darting to stop him. “This is my desk!” He slammed the drawer shut a moment too late – Roy had good eyes after all.

“Hmm, so how do you explain the-”

“Get out, I have stuff to do – aren’t you supposed to be on a date with-”

“-CAFFIENE PILLS IN YOUR DRAWER!” He shouted through Dick’s response, effectively shutting him up. There’d been an intervention years ago after too many days spent on one hour or less of sleep. “You know the deal.” Dick groaned as he ruffled his hair.

“I have to-”

“Eat, shower, and sleep. And I have reservations. For two. You’re coming with me.” Ah yes, a romantic dinner date with Dick Grayson. People would kill for this. Dick crossed his arms. Roy picked up his chair, staggering towards the door. Dick was going whether he liked it or not, a real meal (not protein shakes or energy bars) would do him good.

“No one’s even done this to me in like, a year.” He noted, gracefully leaping out of the seat. “Asshole.” Grumbling he lightly punching him in the arm before heading into his walk-in closet, stripping off his shirt as he went. Automatically, Roy scanned for any new injuries, his eyes lingering over a few of the old.

“Liar, Wally caught you two months ago. Besides, the restaurant is nice, Donna likes it and you two are basically the same person, so you’ll love it.” Dick scoffed, stepping out of view.

“Is that all I am to you? Your replacement for Donna?” He sounded mildly offended.

“Nah, you’re too ugly to replace her.” Dick hmphed. “And your personality sucks.” Roy added.

“Why the hell am I going with you?”

“It’s not like your night could get any worse.” Dinner was better than casework after all.

Dick’s head poked out the doorway, looking completely unamused. “Asshole.” He chirped a second time, ducking back away.

Roy sat across from him, speaking between mouthfuls of pasta, smacking his lips together. “So anyways this kid, Johnny is like, sitting next to Lian in class, and he keeps taking her crayons and won’t give them back.” Dick thought for a moment, watching Roy drum his fingers rhythmically on the table. “And the teacher is being ridiculous, she just believes Johnny over Lian. My Lian! Can you believe it?” He slammed his fork down, articulating the point.

And you’re sure Lian gave you the whole story? Was what Dick wondered, but he’d prefer not to die for questioning Lian’s integrity tonight. “Why don’t you mark her crayons with a sharpie and let the teacher know?” Roy’s fingers stopped.

“Huh, hadn’t thought of that.” He leaned back in his seat, distantly looking out the window. People trickled down the street, passing by the little café, kicking up crimson leaves from half empty trees. Streetlights flickered on; fairy lights crisscrossing the avenue, as the sun lazily sunk in the sky. It was a beautiful night – Roy was right, he did love it, the food was good – catching up with Roy was refreshing – and the location was stunning; as always, Roy always picked the perfect places for dates. Dick was past the point of being annoyed at the situation but was still determined to give Roy a hard time.

“Well, maybe if you thought about that instead of harassing me.” He leaned forward, resting his head on his hand, dramatically looking out the window – Babs was going to kill him for being late with his case reports. Again. Roy smirked as he rocked forward, reaching across the table to lay a hand on his forearm. He at least had the decency to look apologetic.

“Look, you know the deal.” Brushing his thumb against his skin placatingly, he waited until Dick met his eyes. “You’re working full time, and have your nightly duties, and you’re with us.” His voice dropped, his nostrils flaring in irritation. “It’s not like you’ll leave Bruce alone any time soon either. Dick.” His eyes crinkled around the edges – concern. “You’ve got to start taking care of yourself.” Dick rolled his eyes; he was doing fine.

“You’re working with Ollie, you have a daughter, and you’re working with us, look I had one breakdown-”

“More than one-”

“-Only one that wasn’t the result of external influences.” Fuck Brother Blood for the other ones. “We made the caffeine deal after,” he grimaced reflexively “I broke up with Kory but, Roy.” He clasped Roy’s hand with his other hand reassuringly. “I promise I’m doing better now.” Tilting his head to the side, he cracked his neck. “Plus, you only brought me along because Donna was busy, that’s not what the deal was for.”

“Okay, maybe that was shitty of me, but it’s nice seeing you without the tights.” Roy flashed a winning smile. “Not that I don’t like seeing you in them, the new stuff looks great.”

“Oh, so I don’t look great now?” He teased. He’d picked out his brightest shirt for the occasion – a polo patterned after bowling alley carpet paired with the tightest red jeans he could find, and of course, a pair of heels borrowed from Donna. A single giant hoop earring dangled off his left ear. If he was going out with Roy, he wanted people taking pictures. Payback. This would be in the news tomorrow.

“Babe,” Roy lifted up his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “You look stunning.” He grinned goofily, seemingly happy to play along. Welp. If that’s how they were going to play it. He booped Roy’s nose, watching his pupils dilate. Dick recoiled in surprise – Roy wasn’t -

“Wait, you’re not actually-”

A scream cut him off, whirling around in his seat he saw a large man storming into the café brandishing a gun, his face red beet red and angry. He turned back, squeezing Roy’s hand, nodding towards the silverware.

“No-no one else move!” The guests around them stayed frozen in place. Three older ladies on their right, a family of four on their left (he guessed it was the young girl who screamed), and a couple across from them. The staff ducked behind the counter as people outside the restaurant scrambled away.

Dick raised his hands slowly. “I said no one move!” The gun pointed directly at him. Perfect.

“Okay, I won’t move.” He said steadily, watching sweat bead on the man’s head – he was nervous, his hands twitched uneasily on the gun – possibly his first time, and he kept muttering to himself. He watched Roy’s hand carefully creep towards silverware in his peripheral. “Do you want money? My father is rich.” Watching the man jitter about, he slowly stood up. Roy’s hand closed around the fork.

“Okay? You-you can get me money?” The man mused to himself, shifting his weight back and forth. He started lowering his gun, taking a step forward, he reached out his other hand. Dick took a few steps to the right, away from his chair, shifting attention away from Roy. “Okay the-”

*BANG* The world sped up around him, he rushed forward as the man fell-

*BANG* The man hadn’t even hit the ground – he was already dead – already-

“DICK-”

*BANG* Blood and brain matter poured out of the man’s head, someone was screaming, it didn’t need to-

*BANG*

“STOP!” Someone slammed into his side, and he hurtled to the ground. “HOLD YOUR FIRE!”

Roy’s face hovered above him. “Dick! You’re going to be fine.” His hands clamped napkins to his left shoulder, one on his front the other on his back – and shit – that was a lot of blood. “Hey, look at me.” Pain radiated out for the spot as Roy doubled the weight on the wound, blood seeping out past his fingers, waves pulsating in time to his heartbeat.

Cops burst in through the door, rushing to swarm the dead body. One glanced their way. “Oh shit, you hit the fa-”

“Fucking call an ambulance you dipshits!” Roy’s voice sounded farther away. “Slow your heart, fuck, do your Jedi weirdo bat tricks.” He hissed. Too late, sometimes, things happen too fast. “They hit an artery.” The blood wasn’t stopping, the napkin was soaked through, Dick felt himself slipping into shock. “Dick, stay awake!”

“Lo-ve y-ou.” He stumbled over the words as the world exploded – a million things happening at once – his thoughts scattering as black tinged his vision, overcoming everything.

Roy scrubbed his hands, pausing over the sink, watching the pink water rush down the drain, gurgling as it went. He rubbed a hand further, tackling the blood crusted over his elbow. He made a mistake of catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror –Dick’s blood was everywhere, coating his shirt, arms, pants, even some on his face. His stomach flipped, clenching tightly as he started to gag - fuck.

Throwing himself over the toilet, dinner rising back up in his throat, he threw up the seat. Shaking, he held himself over the porcelain toilet, fingertips staining it red, as he heaved. Soap bubbles dripped from his hands over the edge of the bowl, spattering on the ground.

Each drop spurred a recollection of the night’s events.

*Plop* The man was dead before he hit the grown, brain matter spattering the wall.

*Plop* A bullet whistled through the air, missing Dick by millimeters, lodging six inches next to the little girl’s head. He ran, screaming “Dick!”

*Plop* Blood sprayed out, a bullet ripping through Dick’s shoulder, as he kept moving towards the man.

*Plop* “Stop!” Tackling Dick out of the way, he screamed for them to stop, ripping napkins off a table and desperately trying to stop Dick’s life from slipping through his fingers.

He fell to his knees, a pit growing in his stomach spreading to his chest, rooting him to the spot. He curled his knees to his chest. Fuck. Dick had been shot before. But this? It was different. They weren’t in costume, they hadn’t been ready – the man hadn’t even shot anyone, only the bastard cops had.

“Love you.”

What kind of final words were those! He sat on the tile floor, banging his head into the side of the wall. Dick couldn’t die. Not because he forced him on some dumb dinner date! It wasn’t fucking fair!

His vision blurred, but he couldn’t do anything to stop the tears, unless he wanted blood in his eyes. Just – fuck. “FUCK!” His shout reverberated around the room. This was all his fault – he should have stayed home with Lian, guilt pooled in the bottom of his stomach. Why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone? Why’d he always have to have the last word? What was wrong with him!? Normal people didn’t antagonize each other like that!

The door creaked open. “Roy?” Garth called, the door squealing as it slowly opened. “Donna’s here too, are you ohhhhhhhhh-kay?” His jaw dropped, though he quickly recovered. Roy looked away, in a failed attempt to hide the tear tracks on his cheeks.

Garth stared at his hands. “That’s a lot of blood.” He muttered, his eyes darting around the room. “I mean, I brought you clean clothes.” He placed pair of sweats and a ratty t-shirt he’d stolen from Dick years ago on the counter. Roy’s eyes lingered on the shirt, no doubt the choice had been intentional.

The sound of rushing water cut through the silence, seeming to grow louder with each passing moment. Garth leaned back against the counter, hopping up next to the sink. “He’ll be fine.”

“Yep.” Dick was always fine. Always fine until he wasn’t.

“It’s not your fault.” Wrong.

“Debatable.” Garth frowned at the response but held his tongue. Instead, he let his head fall back against the mirror, staring up at the ceiling.

Softly, barely above a whisper, he continued. “I left you all alone for one day and this is how it ends up.” Roy bit his lip. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” Guilt bubbled in the bottom of his stomach, and annoyance overcame him; they’d had these conversations before.

“Are you kidding me? I know what you want me to say. It’s not your fault – of course not. But then you’ll say ah but it’s not my fault either.” Angrily throwing his arms in the air, he continued, his voice growing louder. “And no – Garth – actually it is my fault!” He could feel the blood rushing to his face. “I’m the one who made him go to the restaurant. I’m the one was too late getting him out of the line of fire!” His voice resounded around the cramped room. He banged his head against the wall again. “Look, I know what you’re trying to do and thanks. But no thanks.”

Nonchalantly shrugging, Garth gestured to the water. “Wallowing here won’t make you feel less guilty. Apologizing when he wakes up will help, and I’m sure you’d prefer to be clean when the time comes.”

“Garth? Could you just…” He trailed off; anger quickly overcome by a wave of guilt. Shut up? Leave? Stop? He wasn’t sure, but he was sure he didn’t deserve whatever pity Garth was feeling. A wet paper towel smacked him in the face.

“Kick you in the rear so you’ll get off your sorry ass and clean yourself up?” Hopping off the counter, Garth strode over, lifting Roy by the elbow. “That’s not my style. But I’ll help you get cleaned up.” He let himself be dragged towards the running water, facing himself in the mirror once more, though this time he focused on Garth.

Sometimes Dick could swear he was actually a time traveler. Or maybe had latent teleportation abilities. Realistically, he’d probably just blacked out from blood loss or a concussion, but eh, that option wasn’t as fun. Blinking, he found himself in a familiar setting; a hospital room in a private wing, at – a clock ticked to his left, looking up – it was 4:19am.

He waited a minute, watching the clock turn to 4:20 - nice.

What was he doing again? How long was he out?

He struggled for a moment before remembering that he went out with Roy at 6pm last night, so he was out for… god math was hard. Six to twelve is six hours plus four, uh, ten hours and twenty minutes. Right. As long as it was the same day, he was set.

“Shit.” He promptly realized he couldn’t move his left arm. A sling. UGH. “Son of a-” he cut himself off, realizing he wasn’t alone in the room, Donna was gently snoring in a nearby chair, a little throw blanket covering her. The patterns had fish people… there was a word for that… mer-somethings-maids, mermaids. Mermaids – Garth – Garth was here, that was his blanket.

Dick scanned the room, checking for signs of life. Someone’s bag was on the floor, but he didn’t feel like expending the brain power to figure out who’s. Alright. He steeled himself. Now was the perfect time for escape.

The room spun as he sat up, turning around and round again before his eyes. Hah. Count Vertigo was way worse than this. Yep, head empty, room spinning, this was fine. Swinging his legs over the bed, an alarm blared next to his head.

“Fuck!” He jumped out of his skin, springing to his feet, in a defensive position. Well. He thought he did. The room was tilting on its side, the high-pitched noise shattering his thoughts. Instinctively, he tried to run.

“Woah there, shorty.” He found himself held by strong arms, the world turning once more. The familiar scent of Roy’s aftershave overpowered his senses. Distantly he was aware of the alarm turning off, his legs hitting the back of the bed. Roy’s face swam into view as he was guided back onto the bed, now propped up by soft pillows. So much for escape…

He closed his eyes, waiting for the rush of dizziness to pass. “Roy?” Warm arms wrapped around his torso, snaking tenderly around the sling. “What?” He mumbled - not that he was complaining, as he nestled his chin on Roy’s shoulder. He sighed contentedly, pressing his face into Roy’s stiff neck, closing his eyes and basking in the warmth.

For some reason, the wheels in his brain began turning. Roy. Dinner. Gunshots. His eyes shot open. “Fuck did you get hit, are you okay?” He pulled back, scanning Roy for injuries.

“I’m fine.” Roy facepalmed.

“What?”

“You got shot and you’re asking if I’m okay?” Roy shook his head, exhaustion clear in his voice. Dick looked at his sling again.

“I got shot?” It was like a piece of a puzzle clicking into place. “I got shot…” Wasn’t he supposed to be somewhere else? “How the fuck am I supposed to explain this to my boss?”

Sighing, Roy took a seat on the edge of the bed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why are you like this?” Turning, he looked Dick in the eyes. “Don’t answer that actually. Look, I’m sorry I made you go out to dinner.”

“Why? It was nice.” The food was good. Sputtering, Roy searched for words.

“Well. Don’t say I never apologized.” A little bit of a blush crept up his neck.

His mind abruptly recalled something he’d heard Roy saying to Lian. “Apologies come with hugs.” Roy rolled his eyes but moved closer anyways.

“You don’t even know why I’m apologizing.” He mumbled, brushing Dick’s bangs to the side. Dick grinned as Roy pecked his forehead, sweeping him into a second embrace. Two hugs in one day – that was a pretty good day. Roy’s fingers stroked through his hair, as Dick leaned into his muscular side, the world spinning slightly, though he’d found a solid rock to lean on.

#bad things happen bingo #titans #batfam #nightwing #arsenal #roy harper #dick grayson #my writing #i'm changing up how i post these a little bit - i'll just make one post responding to the ask #i think it makes it a bit neater #thanks so much for the request!#asks #fanfic

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seita · 4 years

Text

— bnha abc's: hitoshi shinsou [angst edition].

well, finally the angst! i have no idea what character i’ll do next but we shall see...

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ɴsғᴡ ᴇᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴ | ғʟᴜғғ ᴇᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴ

⤑ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! | 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

A- Accident, Would they blame themselves if you died in an accident?

∴ unless he was the reason you were involved then no. ∴ he wouldn’t search for correlation to himself in the event of an accident. ∴ he’s not looking to throw a pity party for himself. ∴ you were the one who was dead, after all.

B- Break up, How would they deal with one?

∴ it depends on the relationship. ∴ if it was long term, a few years together then he’s pretty broken up about it ∴ and will probably take a while to get himself back on the market ∴ but a relationship that’s only been a handful of months ∴ he figures it’s best to just move on from it.

C-Crying, Are they much of a crier?

∴ no not at all, really. ∴ sure, he feels sad but tears never fall from his eyes. ∴ however, if there is something traumatic that happens. ∴ he may shed a few tears into his pillow as he goes to sleep.

D-Death, How do they deal with any death?

∴ pretty well, actually ∴ he finds a way to cope so he can move on as quickly as possible ∴ that’s not to say he doesn’t mourn or just erase their memory ∴ he just moves to work past being broken up about it ∴ he doesn’t want to go through his days with the heavy weight of a death on his mind ∴ the type of guy to visit graves and leave flowers for his loved ones once a month.

E-Emotion, What’s the emotion they tend to push away the most?

∴ anger. ∴ he doesn’t like to be angry and he doesn’t like to show anyone his anger ∴ that’s not always possible so he’ll remove himself from situations that make him angry ∴ he’ll go somewhere private where he can let his anger out without prying eyes. ∴ he feels like shit after losing his temper so he’ll apologize or you’ll have to console him and let him know it’s okay to be angry ∴ he’s human and bottling it up isn’t healthy ∴ he agrees but...tbh nothing changes.

F-Frustrated, How much would it take to push them off the edge?

∴ it truly depends. ∴ day-to-day, he doesn’t really get ticked off or upset easily ∴ he’s pretty patient tbh ∴ but in an event where he worked hard for something ∴ or he really, really had a drive to do something (like get into the hero course) ∴ and he fails to do it ∴ he is pretty easily set off. ∴ but he pushes past and works 10x harder than before until he accomplishes his goal. ∴ he’s a driven man.

G-Great Pain, What is the most painful thing they have witnessed?

∴ when he became a pro, the first time he failed to defeat a villain ∴ and many civilians perished as a result ∴ it’s something that absolutely haunts him. ∴ he had nightmares for weeks afterwards ∴ he fully went to a therapist ∴ like he was fucked up over it ∴ to this day, if he’s reminded of it he will literally get so anxious and depressed, even though he’s seen lots of casualties since then ∴ it was just that first failure that fucks him up.

H-Humiliation, How could they be humiliated?

∴ being cheated on. ∴ the idea that he wasn’t good enough, to the point his lover had to find someone else. ∴ that really damages his sense of self worth and self esteem which is already a bit low to begin with. ∴ he’d feel like there was something wrong with him and now everyone knew he was defective.

I-Injured, How do they handle themselves when injured?

∴ very calm and collected. ∴ he figures there’s no real reason to lose his head over it. ∴ panicking will only make the situation worse. ∴ if it’s a bad injury, he’ll seek help as fast as he can. ∴ if its a superficial wound he’ll probably handle it himself.

J-Jittery, Which part of their past makes them flinch or even worked up?

∴ his childhood. ∴ he was the target for teasing and bullying due to his quirk. ∴ so if anything reminds him of those times, he gets really down ∴ he doesn’t like spiral into depression or anything ∴ but he’ll feel anxious and self conscious until the moment passes

K-Kill, Would they kill for revenge?

∴ no, never. ∴ he’s worked so hard to become a pro hero that he wouldn’t want to jeopardize it by some sort of misconduct as that. ∴ also, he has been accused of having potential to become a villain ∴ and he doesn’t want to give anyone ammunition for that.

L- Loss, What was their greatest loss?

∴ he hasn’t actually experienced much loss in terms of losing anyone to death. ∴ when he was a child, he had a friend before his quirk manifested ∴ and accidentally used it on them, unsure of how to control it ∴ and it scared the other boy so bad he stopped being friends with him ∴ that hurt shinsou pretty badly. ∴ he also probably lost a pet dog, which was traumatic because of how much he depended on the furry animal for comfort

M- Mistakes, How much do they want to fix the mistakes of their past?

∴ shinsou isn’t the type of person who will do things that have the potential for regret ∴ he thinks his decisions over thoroughly and runs through all options before choosing the most logical one ∴ of course, he fucks up sometimes but ∴ he stands by his decisions, confident that he did the best possible thing he could have. ∴ being a pro hero doesn’t allow for him to regret things -- if he stops to mourn every civilian loss, for example, he would only be run into the ground. ∴ that doesn’t help anyone.

N-Need, How would they react if you needed emergency surgery?

∴ calm and collected ∴ especially if you’re scared ∴ then he’s going to make sure he’s a pillar for you to lean on ∴ that’s not to say on the inside he isn’t losing his mind ∴ bc he def is ∴ he just finds it counterproductive to stress you out while you’re already scared of the surgery ∴ it would get neither of you anywhere good ∴ once you’re in surgery, he’d be anxious as he waited. ∴ he’s check the time and refuse to leave the hospital until the doctor announces you’re safe.

O-Outrage, What makes them angry?

∴ betrayal. ∴ shinsou, when he trusts, he trusts hard. ∴ he puts his faith into them and expects them to stand by his side ∴ so if, for example, you used an insecurity of his against him in an argument. ∴ or cheated on him. ∴ or spilled a secret he told you in confidence ∴ he will be pissed. depending on how bad it was, he’s liable to break up with you. ∴ naturally, once his trust is broken, however, it’s near impossible to fix ∴ so good luck getting your relationship back to how it used to be lol

P-Pressure, What stresses them out to the breaking point?

∴ training ∴ he works hard to better himself to become the best hero possible ∴ but it stresses him out that he’s not improving fast enough, he’s not doing enough, he’s falling behind others ∴ he’s really hard on himself and his drive only makes the thought of failure terrifying to him. ∴ he doesn’t want to fuck up and lose his chance at his dream.

Q- Qualify, What part of themselves do they see as dangerous?

∴ his quirk, naturally. ∴ it’s a pretty dangerous quirk but ∴ truthfully, everyone’s quirk is dangerous in some way. ∴ it’s just that he’s always been trated as if his quirk was the worst possible outcome he could have been born with. ∴ so he feels like his quirk is the Most Dangerous.

R-Rock, What weighs them down?

∴ the idea that his quirk, very well could be a villains quirk. ∴ he worries that he might abuse it by accident and fuck everything up ∴ his quirk is different from combat quirks or rescue quirks ∴ he can control people. he can lock them into their own minds and force their bodies to do anything he wants without having to lift a finger. and there’s nothing they can do it about it. ∴ that scares him. ∴ it’s such a powerful quirk ∴ and it’d be so easy to abuse it ∴ he worries about his own morality at times, due to all the times he’s been called a villain ∴ it makes him doubt himself even though he knows himself better than that.

S-Sorrow, Would they feel empty after your death?

∴ very much so. ∴ shinsou is the type who gives himself completely to relationships ∴ whether it’s platonic or romantic, he puts 100% in. ∴ so to lose someone he had cared for so completely ∴ leaves him with a devastating emptiness ∴ he’s not going to know how to fill the gap your presence left behind for a long time.

T-Time, What if they had a limited time to live?

∴ he wouldn’t panic ∴ he’d spend the time doing everything he needed to do ∴ like see his mother, hang out with his friends, eat his favorite food, spend a night with you ∴ he’d be determined to make sure he wouldn’t regret wasting the time he had left ∴ so he does everything he feels is necessary for having the happiest time that he has left.

U-Urge, How badly do they get the urge to see you after separating?

∴ on a day to day basis, not much ∴ he’s very good at occupying his mind and thinking logically about whether it makes sense to see you or not. ∴ most of the time it’s not. ∴ he’s not the type to go crawling back to his ex unless it’s something he needs to fix with you. ∴ but at night, when he cant sleep ∴ his mind will automatically wander to you ∴ thinking about how it felt when just a few days, weeks, months ago you were curled up beside him in bed.

V-Vent, How do they get rid of feelings they find unnecessary?

∴ he’s actually really damn good at communication ∴ he is so good at just talking things through ∴ it helps him sort his thoughts and it keeps him calm, rather than getting worked up and upset ∴ he prefers to have healthy ways to release his negative emotions

W-Wild card, A random angst headcannon.

∴ when the bullying over his quirk got worse the older he got ∴ as people started to look at him like he was going to harm them ∴ he got frustrated, angry even ∴ he went off on his mom -- blaming her for giving him such a shitty, terrible quirk ∴ he said some extremely hurtful things in his anger ∴ and the picture of his mom’s hurt face over his words drives him insane ∴ to this day, he still feels like he’s trying to make it up to her. ∴ truthfully, it’s been forgiven and forgotten for a long time but ∴ he doesn’t believe he deserves that just yet.

X- X-ray, What makes them transparent? How obvious can they get around something they hate?

∴ you really will not know when this guy hates you ∴ he seems to have mostly just, cold indifference to majority of people ∴ so him hating you; being ignored or treated coldly ∴ will literally not even make you feel hated ∴ it just seems like his default ∴ he’s pretty open about his opinions though ∴ so if you talk about something and ask what he thinks of it ∴ if he hates it, like a movie, he’ll just come right out and say it tbh ∴ so he’s like 50/50 transparent.

Y-Yearning, Do old memories make them yearn for your touch?

∴ yes. ∴ shinsou is the type of guy to look through his phone at old texts and pictures ∴ when he lies in bed at night, he thinks of his fondest memories ∴ he won’t actively seek you out if it’s not logical -- like if you’re an ex. ∴ but if you’re available for him, he’ll seek you out with a deep craving for you. ∴ he wants to make more memories while he can.

Z-Zest, Add your own letters!

[Parents Headcanon] ∴ when he was a baby, his father left him and his mom ∴ that left his mom to take care of a baby all on her own ∴ she was a young mom too, had him pretty early in life; about 18 or so. ∴ so she struggled really badly ∴ he regrets all the trouble he gave her when he was naive to the struggles of parenthood ∴ once he got older and realized how much his mom did for him ∴ he began to work hard around the house so she could relax when she got home from work, cooked dinner, and never asked for anything he didn’t absolutely need ∴ he absolutely adores his mom ∴ and the idea of ever being without her terrifies him.

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#bnha x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha imagines #mha x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou imagines #mha imagines #shinsou.headcanons #bnha.headcanons

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