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duckugou · 3 years

Text

the blood on our hands

bakugou x gn!reader

aged up!

cw: a n g s t as hell. comfort. cursing, mentions of drinking, smoking, etc. alluding to depression and anxiety. dealing with trauma of missions and losing people. a ton of mentions of blood

this is a heavy topic in the hero universe i imagine- and generally in the mental health world of it all.

lyrics are from purple flowers by ande estrella which hold a very important meaning that has nothing to do with this- they just worked with the story. But fr go listen to it bc its so good.

come to my asks to be a part of my taglist! just let me know what kinds of fics/ what fandom/ what characters/ etc you want to be tagged in! Requests are open!!

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reality is heavy and loud

Spacing out was more than being distracted to Y/n. Being a young hero meant stressful situations, overbearing management, tight spaces, stuffy meetings, and so much... blood. It takes a toll on a young person. Of course they wanted to be a hero- wouldn't chose anything else. They grin and bear this shit for a reason- to save and help people.

But god, who saves the heros?

but white has the privilege of washing machines to wash out the stains from their comfortable jeans

Some nights, after wrap-up meetings, everything was a bit too heavy. The usual group of friends and young heroes would choose someone's house to go to in order to destress.

For some, that was smoking. For some, it was drinking, video games, napping, venting, sitting outside alone yet with company. And for some it was merely listening to everyone else.

Not having to make a decision. Not having to be responsible. That's what y/n picked every time.

Bakugou would always notice them alone in the corner of the room. They were the one to come up with destress gatherings after hard missions. Bakugou knew it was so they wouldn't be alone with their thoughts. That's why he would always step in at times like as get them to talk, so those thoughts dont stay trapped in their head.

"Hey." Bakugou muttered, sitting on the floor next to y/n in Denkis apartment.

"Hey."

"You good, dude?" Bakugou asked with genuine concern.

He was always a bit nicer to Y/n. Nobody knew why, yet everyone knew why. They both were fragile and chose to hide it during the day, being strong around others to not raise red flags.

"I'm okay...just. That one was bad. I almost lost that kid. Like she almost fucking- died in my arms." Y/n choked out.

"Hey hey hey, its okay. You got her to the ambulance in time. You did that shit. You always do. You're the best in the game at comforting little twerps." Bakugou attempted to comfort them- somewhat succeeding and holding their head against his chest.

One time, Y/n mentioned that they held kids against their chest during rescues to calm their heartbeat. "If you listen to a calmer heartbeat, you're more likely to try to match it and slow your own down." Of course you wouldn't think Y/n would be able to have a calm heartbeat during a rescue, but they are very talented at controlling their nerves. Part of being a hero.

wiping the blood off their hands to their thighs, wearing the blood of the people who've died

Y/n subconsciously calmed down a bit, Bakugou's ability to remember every word that drips off of Y/n's lips paying off.

"I know. I just can't stop...thinking about everyone I've- we've lost. Its so unfair."

"I know. Hey, you have- uh. Lets go to the bathroom." Bakugou noticed a smudge of blood on Y/n's face and a bit on their hands. Cleaning up was the last thing on their mind earlier on.

"Ok."

Taking each other's hands, they walked into the bathroom. Bakugou sat Y/n on the counter, turning on the sink and grabbing a cloth.

"O-oh god. Thats fucking blood. I thought I washed my h-hands." Y/n began panicking, causing Bakugou to put their hands under the water with soap, washing it all off for them.

Tears mixed with the water from the sink and Bakugou stayed silent. Wiping their face, Bakugou looked into Y/n's eyes. These two have just always known.

They know what people can hide. What secret messages the body language of a person can hold. And he let them grip onto the back of his shirt as he held them in his arms, Y/n not being able to cry anymore and just breathing in his scent from his shoulder.

but dont let the purple flowers fool you

"Listen. We're going to get through this one. I know its hard on you- all of the families involved. But you- we saved them. We're all here for each other right? I'm here for you." Bakugou pulls Y/n back a little to look into their eyes. "You are the strongest one here. I know it fucking hurts. I know it is so...scary-" He sniffles a little, letting his own emotions take over. Something only he did when they were alone together. "- but we're heroes. And human. We are allowed to feel pain and sadness and disappointment- but we're heroes for a reason, right? We can handle this shit."

"I know we can. We always have. Just... promise you'll never leave me?"

"Youre so stupid. I've been more careful lately." He scoffs, wiping tears from his face. He of course knew that Y/n was referring to a few weeks ago when Bakugou got too caught up in the mission and was almost crushed by debris. He was pulled away in time by a fellow hero but it still opened his eyes, as well as Y/n, to how fragile they are, even if they are the heroes.

"I know Kats, but please. You're my rock in here. You're my person." Y/n says looking into his eyes.

"And you're my person. I can't leave you behind. You wouldn't know what to do without me here." Bakugou chuckles, earning a shove from Y/n.

"Katsuki." Y/n starts, holding his hands in their own.

"Yeah." He sighs.

"I don't speak lightly of feelings, you know that right?"

"Of course I know that. You don't talk much about those to anyone-"

"Except you." They interrupt Bakugou, reminding him of the importance of their unspoken bond and making his heart race.

"Yeah."

"Then you'll know how hard it is for me to say this. But- Katsuki I think I love you. I know we aren't super affectionate outside of being alone but- I've never felt what I feel with you before. I understand if you don't feel the same way and if this was all just because you felt bad but I needed to tell you that because you're really important and this is very import-"

Bakugou, in the most cliche turn of events, cuts Y/n off with a kiss to shut them up.

Pulling away, Bakugou rests his forehead on Y/n's .

"I love you too. I thought that was obvious when I never stopped you from saying my first name, idiot." He chuckles lightly.

"I kinda figured you at least liked me-"

"I'm going to keep you safe forever. That means physically and emotionally. No more hiding any feelings from me just because there are people around. Pull me aside. Hold me if you need or want to- I dont care if the whole world sees that. But just- fuck Y/n. I know you feel fragile. I know what it's like to be scared and hide it. I'm your diary now, ok? Always."

"Thank you...Katsuki. Fuck. You're everything I've ever needed. Plus youre kinda cute too I suppose." Y/n giggles.

"Oi fuck off." Bakugou kisses them again, relieved that he can finally be himself with Y/n, that he has them finally.

"I'm your diary too them, okay? I mean it. Anything, any time, say the word." Y/n says lightly, squeezing Bakugou's hand.

"Fuck. I love you."

"I love you too. I love how that sounds coming from you by the way."

"Me the fuck too-" Bakugou was interrupted by a loud yelling-

"I GOTTA PISSSSSS" followed by banging on the door.

"MAYBE YOU SHOULDN'T DRINK SO FAST THEN LIGHT WEIGHT!" Bakugou responds, recognizing the voice of Denki.

"DONT MAKE FUN OF MEEEE I'LL LAUGH AND PEE MYSELF" Denki whined.

"Let's go, angel." Bakugou whispers into Y/n's hair, kissing them on the head and helping them off of the counter.

#bakugou x y/n #mha fanfic #mha fic #mha imagine #mha one shot #bakugou x reader #bakugou fic #bakugou angst #mha angst #mha comfort #bakugou comfort

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sashannarcy · 3 years

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hi op what are your thoughts on uhhhh *spins wheel* sasha's season 2b arc (hope that's not too broad a subject)

edit: putting this under a cut bc it got LONG but. enjoy (???)

okay I gotta start by saying I didn't expect the depth of it at ALL; I knew Sash was featured prominently in the ending episodes of s2 based off of what my friend informed me, but like. I was not expecting 4.5 episodes to be almost ENTIRELY centered on their character arc and design (the .5 being the first half of True Colors).

that being said, I think Sash's 2b arc is PHENOMENAL bc of the way the nuance in it is written so incredibly well. this character is about to perform the most antagonistic move that they've pulled in the whole series so far, which is the act of betraying both Anne and Marcy in order to support Grime and get them home safe, if they so choose to go home (as an aside, I think at this point Sash has probably decided that she likes it more in Amphibia than back home, and there's one line that I'll get to that seems to be VERYYYY indicative of that. and if this is the case, it makes sense to me why Sasha would want to help Grime at all and why they don't really seem quite eager to follow Anne and Marcy back home. but! important to note that they still give those two the choice to go back if they wish, because at the end of the day Sash loves them and wouldn't try to force them to stay). and yet we see!! this back and forth!! this FIGHT that's happening in their mind, the way there's a flash of guilt they express at the very end of The Third Temple directly after confirming to Grime that things are still going according to plan, their convo w Anne at the end of The Dinner, the entire plot arc of BotB, and ofc the Sashanne duel in True Colors. I want to make an analysis post for each of these episodes because they're so fucking PACKED w shit to analyze, but I'll try my best to touch on all points here.

obviously we first learn of Sasha's plans to betray Anne and Marcy in The Third Temple. but what's important is that throughout the entire episode, there's several points where Sash switches back and forth between manipulation and honesty. I can talk abt this w confidence just based off of the whole. *gestures vaguely at myself.* but Sasha's initial apology in this episode was sheer manipulation, I think we all know that. however, when Sasha has to do their final test in the temple, those few lines they exchange w Anne in the moments before they raise themself up off the floor and launch themself into battle... those were genuine. they know they've been a shitty friend, and they're willing to accept that. so you have this game, almost, where Sash keeps flipping between putting on a mask to ensure they can keep up their facade until Grime secures the city and genuinely acknowledging their behavior and knowing that what they are doing is not going to sit well w Anne and Marcy.

so with that, The Third Temple sets the premise for the rest of the episodes of the season as far as Sasha's character arc. The Dinner is such a good fucking episode to follow with, because it hammers in the fact that Sasha has not changed. what it ALSO hammers in is she is still acting in her own self-interest - to put it in her words, she wants to get the friendship back under control. they still lash out, they still have a short fuse, they're still heavily opinionated and rough around the edges and prickly because this is an environment where they feel threatened. they're finally reuniting with the two people that mean the absolute most to them, only to realize they've been left out of the narrative. also not for nothing, but their trauma in Reunion got joked about in this episode which led to them blowing up over it, and like. I'm giving that one a pass bc man. anyway. at the end of the episode they say they like who they are, but it's said with a frown, which I think is fucking GENIUS. because there's an actual meaning to this line - they don't ACTUALLY like who they are. we have plenty of evidence that they don't like themself. what they MEAN is that they don't want to change, because that would mean giving up a security that they need in order to keep themself together. AND THIS IS DEMONSTRATED CRYSTAL CLEAR IN BOTB. they literally PURPOSEFULLY detach themself from Anne and Marcy bc they know they want control but they ALSO know that their behavior is just going to hurt the other two, so instead of compromising, they just go hey I'm gonna do my thing and you guys can do yours. and we'll both get what we want. and if that's not evidence that this character is fucking GRAPPLING with how to grow and change as a person, idk what is

and then. sigh. we get to True Colors. ofc Sash goes through on their betrayal - they're loyal to a fucking T once you dig beneath the surface, and they wouldn't just not follow through for Grime. what is absolutely KEY here is the fact that they are still leaving room for their friends' best interests, as in they're not trapping them in Amphibia but rather explaining how they're gonna help Grime take over, implying they'll go back home once they're done, but if Anne and Marcy wanna go back now, that's cool. if she didn't give a fuck abt their wellbeing, she'd just keep them there w her. but she doesn't. and then Anne starts retaliating, and. well. we ALL know Sasha does NOT do well with criticism of any kind. so they just go okay I'll send you back now then (and this is STILL an action motivated by what they think is best for Anne). BUT THE LINE. OHHHH THE SUPER IMPORTANT LINE THAT MADE MY HEAD SNAP UP AND MADE ME PHYSICALLY GO "YIKES" OUT LOUD. is Sasha saying "say hi to your parents for me." it's like a goddamn full-on sucker punch packed into one sentence - seven words, and all of a sudden we know for sure this kid does not have a good home life. I could go into elaboration on Sasha and the way she views familial ties throughout the show, but I won't bc that's gonna take this already super long answer and make it even worse. regardless, Sasha has once again flipped the switch and is indulging in their worst behaviors, which is full on controlling and holding power to act on what THEY think is best in the moment. and the moment Anne snaps, the moment Anne yells about Sasha being a horrible person, literally EVERYTHING shifts and the reaction from Sasha is VISCERAL. and what I mean by that is. it's not just the look in their eyes at those words. it's not just the sudden and complete loss of meaning, of self, of motivation after they've lost Anne's support. it's not just the way they stare at their own reflection in a sword that represents the color of the person they're trying their hardest to protect. it's the way that for the rest of the goddamn episode, they spend it trying to do the one thing they fear the most: giving up control. I'm gonna elaborate on this whole aspect in a different ask bc I was asked abt it, but the way Sasha acts towards Anne after the fallout, especially at the beginning of the duel and during the confrontation w Andrias, is fucking monumental. they struggle so much with how to change their own behavior, yet the very moment they lose the support of the people they've been trying so hard to love and care for in their roundabout way, they can change the way they act. because who the fuck is Sasha Waybright without Anne Boonchuy and Marcy Wu? in her mind, no one. she doesn't have any idea of who she is outside of this, so ofc she can act differently when she's thrown out in the cold. after all, it doesn't take much to warp an identity that doesn't exist.

tldr; god. how do I sum this up. Sash's 2b arc is smth that's incredibly intricate and complex from the way they constantly flip between desperately needing control and feeling guilty that this is the way they need to live. and True Colors is able to finally demonstrate to us the final piece in how they operate - without their friends, they lose sense of who they are, and their personality comes undone. in 4.5 episodes the writers managed to give us 1000 aspects to their character that we hadn't gotten to explore, and we can see that Sasha was never meant to be the villain. so. final review is that's some good shit👍

#this is so so so so long holy shit anon I am sorry #but the s2 2b arc is like. oh my god it sure is smth #PLEASE GOD IT'S 2:56 AM. I HAVE CLASS AT 9:30 GMFMDMDM #why do I do this shit to myself #sasha waybright #amphibia #anonymous #ask #long post

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makowo · 3 years

Text

Forever Deep Below Creation

This is still a work in progress, but due to my lack of posted writing in the past 3 months, I thought I'd give a sneak peek at the beginning of the fic.

Warnings: None

Characters: Naegi Makoto, Kirigiri Kyoko

Relationships: Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto

Words: 3k

It’s another warm night in the woods. Cicadas cast their calls to the air, and while some creatures tuck into their nests and dens, others rise to greet the darkened sky. Wing and hooves and fingers and claws grazing the sky, Brushing against the stars and cupping the face of the moon.

And here Makoto is, prepping dinner in the cottage he calls a home. His home. Their home.

He pulls out a knife from the block by the counter just as he hears the front door’s lock click. He can almost feel the burst of warm night air flooding their living room, though it is little to the warmth of the stove as it works to bring water to a boil.

He blinks, dropping his focus to turn towards his wife with a grin. “Welcome home honey!”

“Honey?” Kyoko echos, placing her bag on the coffee table. She leaves her holstered gun beside it, walking into the kitchen to check on him. “It’s unusual for you to use pet names.”

“Only if I wanna tease you.” He chuckles, and she does it right back. “Unless you prefer stuff like “babe” or “sweetheart”?”

Arms wrap around his waist, Kyoko resting her chin on his shoulder. “What’s for dinner tonight?”

She avoids the question, and he saves that tidbit of info for later. Avoidance is not a no, after all. “Yakisoba.” He nudges the noodles around with a spoon, half-focused on it as he leans back against his wife. “Thought it might be good to have something quick tonight, y’know?”

Kyoko merely hums, burying her face into the crook of his neck. “Shouldn’t you turn up the AC? You’re cold.”

“Means I can cuddle up to you to stay warm tonight though.”

“As if I’ll let you do that.” She scoffs. He can feel her smile against his skin.

“Ohh?” He goes through the motions of prepping their dinner, Kyoko stumbling along with his hasty steps with a steadfast grip. “And how are you gonna stop it?” Even if they’re on opposite ends of the bed, they always wake up with one clinging to the other. Hard not to cuddle.

She takes a minute to ruminate on it, before managing an answer. “Heater. Right between us.”

Makoto laughs. “Won’t that burn?”

“If it keeps your ice hands from touching me at 2 in the morning, then ‘m fine.”

His whine of objection couldn’t be more fake. “That’s mean.” He quickly nabs the pair of bowls set aside early on, tracing the grooves of their rims with his thumbs as he sets them out side by side. “You’re mean.”

Finally, he’s released from his lavender-scented prison as Kyoko reaches for one of the bowls, unsubtly nudging him in an attempt to get him out of the way. He stays still however, nudging her right back. “It’s still hot, Kiri-san! Gotta let it sit for a bit.” He warns with a frown.

“It can sit for a bit in my bowl.” She replies deadpan, still urging him away. And he relents, because it isn’t that big of a deal anyway but he doesn’t want to watch Kyoko burn her mouth while trying to eat again. Or just forget about it while she works.

“Then eat with me in the living room.” Makoto grabs his own bowl, getting what yakisoba she leaves behind in the pan. “And after it, we go straight to bed.” He’s not risking his work going to waste, after all.

Even with these tough terms he’s set up, Kyoko lazily nods, most likely due to still suffering from sleep deprivation. Maybe she’ll decline when she’s woken up a bit, maybe she won’t. Makoto decides to settle down on the couch and put on a movie that might distract her from it anyway.

It’s more background noise than anything, though; something about an escape room? Pretty sure he put on a sequel movie too, which turns their interest only to one another. Not that he minds.

“Would you like to go on a trip sometime in the next month?”

“Mmh, yeah?” He replies through a mouthful of food, quickly swallowing it before continuing. “What case has you going out of the country this time?” It’s not odd for Kyoko to ask if he wants to travel with her if she knows it’ll take too long for Makoto to bear.

She shakes her head, taking a bite of her food before answering. “I mean as a vacation, actually?” She replies with a tone implying that she’s questioning her own words already.

“Vacation?” He can’t help but echo, because… well, Kyoko never takes vacations! He can imagine she has a lot of days saved up because of that, but it never seems like she plans to put them to use other than for emergencies. Guess he read her wrong on that part, even if this is the first time she’s planning a legitimate vacation herself in the four years she’s been working as a detective again.

“Is it a bad time?”

“No, no!” Makoto shakes his head, not daring to let this slip by. “I’d love a vacation! It’d be nice to get out of the house.” He doesn’t really have much going on anyway, since the whole school idea didn’t really pan out. He’s just a stay at home husband now, and since Kyoko still makes enough money to support them both, he’s not actively seeking a job right now. Thus, he’s perfectly free.

Kyoko smiles. “Good. I’ve made sure to go ahead and clear up a week for ourselves, but I need to know what you might want to do.” She glances at him curiously, before quickly adding on. “Preferably not something that’s outside of Japan, I’d have trouble paying for that right now.”

Well that’s a no brainer for him, but it does narrow down his options significantly, which he happens to be thankful for. “Do you have anything in mind?” For a fleeting moment, Makoto recalls his dinner, taking a bite of it before he looks away from it and thus forgets it even exists. “I’m gonna be honest, I don’t really have anything in mind…” Never been one to aspire for once-in-a-lifetime thrills, like skydiving or something. He’d be happy just lounging at home the whole week, despite his earlier comment.

“I thought we could go to a nearby city then, and go sight-seeing.” Kyoko spares a glance towards the movie playing, before interest in it is once again immediately lost “Maybe in Seoul? There’s a large cave system there as well, and they’re open to caving this time of year.”

“Hm?” Makoto tries to recall what exactly that is, but he’s drawing blanks. “What’s that?”

“Well, Seoul is-”

“I know what Seoul is.” Makoto deadpans, though completely understands why she thought that was what he was talking about. He’s not the most educated person, what with the whole memory loss thing. “”I mean caving! I’ve never, uh, heard of that.”

“Ah.” Kyoko nods, setting down her bowl on the coffee table. “Apologies. It is rather self-explanatory however; we just go and explore a cave system with a small group.” She shrugs, stifling a yawn. “I thought it might be fun to do something like that together. It’s rare for a person to do, wouldn’t be too dangerous, and we’d be together the whole time.”

That does sound pretty cool, he’ll admit. He’s never really gone into a cave before, if he excludes the ones that they’d have to hide in during… ah, well, it’d just be nice. Doing something kind of thrilling. He imagines it’s thrilling, at least.

“I think it’d be fun!” He finally chirps, leaning over to rest his head on Kyoko’s shoulder. “It’s been a while since we’ve done something together, I’m sure it’d be a good time for us both.” And he’s pretty sure they don’t have any trauma tied to caves, which is a definite plus! Unless they count claustrophobia? Neither of them have shown signs of that though, so they’ll hopefully be fine. Hopefully.

As if she were able to sense his worry (which he doesn’t doubt that she can), Kyoko places a hand on his leg, stopping its worried bouncing. He hadn’t even noticed it doing that. “Are you sure?” She asks lightly, brow furrowed with worry. “”It can be dangerous, you know. There’s only so much a tour guide can do to make naturally made caves safe to enter.”

Makoto frowns, now actually worried. “Then why would you recommend it?” He asks, very quietly.

Kyoko takes a while to respond. In fact, she doesn’t respond until she’s actually finished her dinner, as well as his. It was getting cold so he may as well let her have it. “Do some looking, and if you have a better idea, tell me.” And then she heads to bed, because that’s just. A perfectly fine way of ending a conversation.

Makoto trudges on after her after about an hour of thinking (mostly lack thereof, with the television being such a terribly convenient and easy distraction) on the couch. Unlike most nights though, where the room is pitch black, her back turned from the door so as to not catch the stray rays of lights that he’s forgotten to turn off, it’s… actually still pitch black in there. But after a moment of letting his eyes adjust, he catches Kyoko’s alarmingly bright gaze cutting through the gloom.

“Can’t sleep?” He mutters as he stumbles through the dark, going off of his recollection of the room’s layout, reduced to something of barely any use through the haze of sleepiness tugging at his being.

“I can.” She replies slowly, watching him not unlike how a cat would watch their owner. Not that she or their relationship in general compares to that; she just has that… “look”. Like she knows everything. “Was just waiting for you to come to bed.”

If he’s being honest, it’s kind of exciting. It’s the look she gives when her interest is upon him entirely, something that earns a flattered blush every time. “Thank you then.” He chirps, before crawling into bed like a lizard wriggling beneath the warm sands of a desert, except much less gracefully.

He almost expects nothing to happen, oddly enough. He should have known Kyoko was waiting for a reason.

A warmth presses up against his back, and a hum against his ear. “Don’t have to go in until noon tomorrow.” Kyoko huffs. He can just sense her smile when he shivers. “So… we could…” something presses between his legs, and teases just the right spot, “have some time to ourselves, maybe…?”

Makoto is a weak man, and especially weak for his wife. And thus, all he can do is scrounge up what remains of his energy, roll over, and let the franticness of their motions do the rest. ------------------------------------

It’s quite a hike to get to the cave they’ve been looking at. The route is safe, spacious, and short for the most part; it’s apparently a tour “good for beginners”, and while Makoto believes their caving adventures will begin and end with this one, it’s nice to know that this place doesn’t have any curveballs. Or spike-filled areas. Or tunnels one can only crawl through. Or maybe even fractures.

“Stop worrying.” Kyoko demands, his thoughts coming to a harsh stop. He manages not to be totally thrown off, following hastily after his wife as they trudge along a pebble-filled path.

He sighs when he catches up, glancing around. Just west there’s Tokyo, bustling with life, but it’s far enough only to serve as a backdrop to the hill-covered fields they’re in. They follow a path lined by thin ropes tied to sticks in the ground every other step, as despite the lack of actually dangerous areas nearby, there’s a lot of… well, area. The Tragedy changed a lot of the landscape, more so than most would believe.

Stopping his mind from wandering too far again, Makoto directs his attention ahead. They have a few other people with them, much more diverse in their body type than he assumes the average would be for much more difficult to traverse caves. They talk amongst themselves, all of them clearly going with someone they know for the trip. Ahead of them, the tour guides walk, though he can’t tell what they’re doing. He doubts it to be much at all, really.

“Are you excited?” He finally asks, careful not to speak loudly. He doesn’t want to draw much attention from their peers here, they’re lucky enough to have only garnered a few curious looks.

“Of course.” Kyoko replies, just as quiet. “I’m sorry it had to be delayed so much, cases just kept piling up.”

Makoto scoffs. “Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you’re able to help people.” Adjusting to keep a good hold on his backpack, he reaches over to grasp Kyoko’s hand. She’s changed her gloves today. Much rougher. “Even if it’s not another year until we get a chance like this again, I’m satisfied.”

He hopes for a smile, or the most likely quirk of the lips she gives when beyond the walls of their home. He earns neither.

“I’m not.” She tightens her grip, tugging him forwards. “Come on. We’re falling behind.”

Makoto nods, silent as he follows her up the steep incline, and silent still until they come to the entrance to the cave.

He can only think of an open maw when he sees the entrance. It sits neatly above the ground, embedded into the side of the hill’s peak, moss creeping over the exposed rock. Various plants and flowers bloom from cracks in the walls he can see, reaching out towards the sunlight beyond. But as he looks upon the entrance, the teasing glimpse it shows of its surely vast depths, he can’t help but think they’re trying to escape the dark rather than gain any sunlight.

The heat must be getting to him.

“Alright everyone!” One of the guides chirps, clapping their hands to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s do a quick check to make sure everyone has what they need!”

Makoto remembers all their supplies, and part of him knows that he has everything, but anxiety urges him to check once more. Plus, he needs to actually put some of it on now. That too.

He crouches down and pulls his backpack around, trying not to focus on the cave. Instead, he mentally lists off each item as he finds it; helmet, gloves, boots, first aid kit, and a flashlight. Not much really, and he’s more than happy about that fact.

Makoto sighs, putting on each item he needs and putting away the rest. He’s careful about the gloves in particular as he puts them on; the helmet may have a light that could break if he’s not cautious, but Kyoko picked these out for him specifically before this trip. She has very strong opinions about them, and apparently these are the best pair for this sort of task that she could find. And they must be, they’re very comfortable! A perfect fit even, despite the fact that she gave them to him on the way here without any warning. He can’t imagine what they must have cost.

After checking for his caving suit and quickly realizing that he already put it on before making this trek, Makoto shoves his old shoes and socks into the back, hopping back up just as everyone else seems to be handed something.

“Now, before we head in, I want you all to get a good look at this map.” The guide says as they hand a sheet of paper to each group. “Even if this is a short trip, and we know this place like the backs of our hands, there’s a few turns here and there!”

Kyoko takes the map they’re given, Makoto peering at it from over her shoulder, having to crane his neck to get a good look. It doesn’t seem like too much, thankfully; there’s a meander or two, but none on the main path, thank the gods. He’d prefer not to have to do any crawling during this!

“It’s a straight shot, huh?” He comments absentmindedly, resting his chin on his wife’s shoulder.

She merely huffs, reaching back to thread her fingers through his hair. Despite the unsatisfying feeling of the gloves she’s wearing right now, he eagerly leans into the touch. “Yes. I’ve seen pictures of the cave as well, and it appears to not be very dangerous, unless one was actually being reckless. Should take about twenty minutes, at most.”

Makoto grins, wrapping his arms around Kyoko’s waist. She makes another sound, something like a noncommittal grunt, but doesn’t nudge him away as he expects. It’s nice. “And after this we go eat at Stellar Cafe.”

“We ate there last week.” She quickly reminds him, paying only a partial bit of attention to what those in front of them are saying. Something about the first aid kits, nothing very important.

“Too bad.” He gives her a quick peck on the cheek. “I like their food, and the service is nice.”

He can hear her stifle a laugh as she pulls away. “You like their curry. There’s perfectly good curry elsewhere.” She reaches into her own backpack, pulling out a walkie talkie. “Now get your radio out.”

“Don’t you think this is kind of overboard?” He pulls it out anyway of course, making sure his is connected to hers. “They never recommended these for caving, at least not on the sites I looked at.” Seems that most of the time people are expected to stay together anyway, if there’s more than one person at all. He’s surprised Kyoko decided to do this.

“Can’t ever be too safe.” Is all she says, before looking to the cave. “It’s time to go.”

Makoto follows her gaze, and sees the rest of the group already clambering over rocks as they enter the hole. “Ah.” He pauses, choking on nothing for a moment so fleeting he can’t even react. “Yeah.”

If he showed any hesitation, Kyoko does not acknowledge it. Instead, she walks ahead, and with heavy steps he pretends are eager, Makoto follows her into the dark.

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

and that's it! quite a bit, and definitely not the best writing in the world, but im very proud of it so far! if you can then please rb this and give your thoughts, i do this for free but there's a reason i post my fics at all, which is validation <3 basically what keeps me going and able to continue writing at all, actually.

#danganronpa #makoto naegi #naegi makoto #kyoko kirigiri #kirigiri kyoko #naegiri #writing #fics #this has taken. a While #ofc this isnt the final product but this cuts off right before the horror parts start. which im very excited for #this fic has been a long time coming and im SO excited to do it <3 aaaaa

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wireddless · 4 years

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Codeine Scene (Five H. x Reader) [3]

Codeine Scene Masterlist

Authors Note: First off, I am SO sorry. New Years is always a slow time for me, and I did not mean to take this long to publish. Second of all, this chapter is a transition chapter into a much more fucked up story. I’m warning you now that the rest of this fic will get really really dark. I don’t recommend reading after this chapter if you can’t handle depictions of r*pe, murder, heavy drug use (cocaine, etc,) and other disturbing topics . I’m basing this story off of personal experiences, and in no way do I want someone who isn’t ready to read something like this to read this. This is like the last safe chapter, please do not read after this if you can’t handle the topics mentioned above

Summary: Klaus moves Reader up to Ben’s old room early in the morning. Afterwards, they eat breakfast and decide to trip on acid together. Five learns more about her than he expected to today

Warnings: Drug use (LSD[acid],) mentions of suicide, mentions of sex

Word Count: 3777

Taglist: @alexander-hamilhoe @dumdumsun

The gentle shaking of (Y/n)’s shoulder pulled her from her sleep. Klaus stood over her, harshly whispering her name. Looking towards his window, she could see the sky was just barely starting to light up, it was still early.

“Klaus it’s like 7:30!” She quickly grabbed the sheet that was covering her from the waist down and yanked it over her head. A small groan left Klaus’s mouth and he yanked it back off of her. “It’s Sunday!” She tried convincing him to let her sleep in, but it was no use.

“I talked to Ben and he said you could stay in his room!” Klaus wrestled with (Y/n) over the blanket, knowing she was still tired. Ever the impatient man he was, Klaus spoke again, “We gotta get you settled in right now!”

“Fine! Fine. I’m up.” (Y/n) sat up and shoved her matted hair out of her face. “Why right now?” Klaus looked at her like the answer was obvious. It wasn’t, of course.

“Because trauma can be associated with places! Coming in here right after what happened yesterday could be an issue.” He grabbed a hair brush off of his dresser and pushed her to sit on the bed. Climbing behind her, he started to brush her hair. “Even if you aren’t reminded of it in here, it’s always good to be able to have some privacy.” He made valid points.

“I guess you're right.” Klaus was extraordinarily gentle with her hair, pulling out all of the mats and even putting in the effort to put it in a low ponytail to keep it out of her face. “Thank you.” (Y/n) turned and smiled at Klaus, pulling him into a quick, tight, hug.

Ben's room was up the green stairway, across from Five’s room. (Y/n)’s face scrunched a little when she realized Five would be right across the hallway, but she didn’t complain. Her arms were a little tired from carrying her suitcase and heavier back pack up the stairs so early in the morning, but it would fade rather quickly.

Klaus opened the door and stepped aside, letting (Y/n) rush to the bed with her heavy luggage. “Dad replaced everything in this room a week after Ben died.” Klaus sat on the bed next to her luggage, and she plopped next to him. “He said old reminders would only set us back, so he made this one of many guest rooms.” Klaus peered in the closet, knowing that Ben’s academy uniforms were no longer hanging pristinely on the rack.

“He didn’t die in here, did he?” (Y/n) turned to look at Klaus, feeling heavy sympathy.

“Oh no! A mission went wrong, and I suppose we all messed up, but the monster inside his chest started tearing him apart.” Klaus’s usual, very happy energy, was replaced by a solemn, cold one. “He died in the infirmary.” Klaus looked down at the bedsheets. They weren’t the one that Ben had used. “I still talk to him every day, but it still makes me a little sad.” Klaus sniffled and rubbed his eyes.

(Y/n) pulled Klaus into a bone crushing hug, knowing he needed the comfort. “That’s terrible.” She was a very empathetic person, relying more on feeling than thinking, so she was struggling to hold back her own tears. “Are you sure he’s ok with this?”

“Yeah! He said something about moving on, and finally attempting to find peace.” Klaus clapped his hands once as he stood. “He’s kind of started meditating too, which is kind of weird, because he’s a ghost and all.” He stood and glanced around the room, getting a good look at it before (Y/n) would make it her own. “Let’s go get some breakfast after we unpack, huh?”

“That sounds nice.” (Y/n) stood and hugged Klaus again, silently letting him know that she was there for him.

The walk all the way down to the basement kitchen was unexpectedly exhausting. Six flights of stairs later, two flights between every floor, they were sitting at the table, staring at Five scrape his eggs off the skillet and onto his toast.

“I’m not making eggs for you two.” His voice was monotone and annoyed. He wasn’t a morning person. “Take some responsibility and make them yourself.” Five grabbed his food and coffee, and looked at both of them before giving his usual tight-lipped smirk and blipping away, presumably to his room.

Klaus released a few small giggles he was holding in and hopped off the island. “He always seems to add a little spice to life.”

As he was making his way over to the fridge to grab some eggs, (Y/n) asked; “Is he like this every morning?” Not wasting a second after her question, Klaus replied.

“Yep!” He pulled out four eggs and set them in a clean bowl on the counter. “Without a doubt. It’s worse on weekdays too, because the classes he teaches are all early in the morning. Now do you want scrambled, fried, or boiled?”

“Scrambled, please.” As Klaus got to work on making breakfast for the two of them, she thought about what Five might teach. “Hey Klaus?”

“Yeah?” Klaus was stirring the already scrambled eggs in the skillet.

“What does Five teach? I mean it makes sense that he’s a teacher, but I just can’t think of what he’d be so willing to teach for a living.” Klaus looked back at (Y/n) before down at the eggs again. Her chin was resting in her hands, and she stared over at him, waiting for his answer.

“I think some sort of ethics class, like there’s different types of ethics, but that’s all I really know. He doesn’t really talk about work, and it’s a bit weird considering he was an assassin.” Klaus split the scrambled eggs in two separate bowls with forks in them and gave one to (Y/n).

“He killed people?” (Y/n) dug into the eggs, shoving them in her mouth, listening for Klaus.

“We’ve all dabbled with a little murder before, it’s not really that big of a deal for us, but he swore never to kill for someone else again, I’m pretty sure.” Klaus fillet out a little moan of joy as he started filling his own stomach with the eggs.

“That must be why he was so unphased about what happened yesterday, that makes me feel a lot better.” She concluded, trying not to remember the way she nearly beat the life out of the man in Five’s car as she shoved more of Klaus’s eggs in her mouth. “These are really good!”

“Danke!” Klaus thanked her in German, with a mouth full of eggs. He swallowed them and continued speaking. “That actually reminds me- you’ve done acid right?” (Y/n) thought on the question for a moment before answering.

“No actually, but I did do shrooms a lot with my friends before I dropped out.” Her fork scraped the bowl, trying to get the last of the eggs.

“Good! You have experience.” Klaus poured the last of his eggs in his mouth, straight from the bowl, before swallowing. “Would you like to do acid with me? You don’t have to, but I feel like this would definitely raise your spirits.” Klaus leaned toward her, waiting for her answer.

“I’d love to actually.” (Y/n) swallowed the last of her eggs, and stacked her bowl with Klaus’s, before taking them to the sink to wash them. Klaus stood and followed her, digging in the breast pocket of his half-unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and pulling out a small square of folded tin foil.

“Great! Now stick your tongue out.” Klaus unfolded the foil and pulled a tiny white square of paper, roughly the size of a phone keyboard key, out from the six-ish others in it. (Y/n) stuck her tongue out as she rinsed the now-clean bowls and Klaus placed the piece of paper on it, before sticking one on his own tongue.

(Y/n) stuck her tongue back in her mouth and sucked a bit on the paper. “So do I swallow it, or…?” The tab didn’t make it any harder to talk, thank god.

“If you want to, but you absorb it faster when it’s in your mouth.” Klaus picked up the bowls and started drying them. “It’s not bitter at all is it?” Klaus asked, checking to make sure she didn’t take a laced tab.

(Y/n) focused on the tab again, not really noticing any taste. “Not that I can notice.” Klaus smiled as he shut the cabinet where he placed the bowls.

“That means we’re all good! You can swallow it when the paper feels soggy enough, though, you’ve probably absorbed most of it by now.” Klaus led her back upstairs to his room, practically dragging her by her wrist. “Things are gonna get really funny for a little bit before you actually start tripping.” Klaus shut the door behind them and plopped on his bed.

“Doesn’t it take like an hour to kick in?” This wasn’t her first rodeo, so she knew her way around at least a bit.

“Yeah yeah, it’s kinda like shrooms? But the visuals and the trip are just a bit different, you’ll see what I mean.” Klaus grabbed a joint he had rolled earlier and lit up, taking a few puffs before passing it to (Y/n). “Just settle in for like half an hour and then get up to see how you feel.”

•••

Tripping on LSD was a profound experience. (Y/n) wasn’t able to go outside, as it was raining cold, so she stayed inside, wandering around the house. She and Klaus made some really cool art, and Klaus held it over the vents to dry while she was walking around the house.

Tripping felt like seeing the universe fully for the first time, and she could somewhat understand Klaus’s view of the world. Many times throughout the last three hours, she thought she saw Five blipping away out of the corner of her eye. She had dismissed it every time, of course.

Now the trip was peaking, and the visuals were insane. The air around (Y/n) felt like breathable, transparent, clay, and it was a little overwhelming with all the visuals, so she opened the door in front of her and quietly sat next to it, letting out a long, happy sigh. Closing her eyes, she paid attention to the gorgeous visuals she could see behind her eyelids.

(Y/n) didn’t even notice Five sitting on his bed, staring at her from over his book. She was too focused on the movement behind her eyelids, and the euphoric feeling surrounding her, so when Five spoke, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“I think you have the wrong room.” The sound of Five closing his book reached her ears.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, I- I wasn’t paying attention I’ll leave.” (Y/n) stumbled over her words as she tried to stand, clearly embarrassed.

“No, no, it’s fine actually.” Five spoke, rather out of character. “A little company once in a while feels nice, and I see no harm when you’re being quiet.” His face was beyond distorted, but she could still recognize his permanent scowl.

“Really?” (Y/n) settled back down, more relaxed and at ease.

“Yeah, I don’t really care.” Five grabbed his book again, opening it back to where he was. “Just don’t be too annoying.”

“I won’t don’t worry.” Five grunted quietly at her response. A smile painted itself on her face, and she slid all the way down the wall, with her head now on the floor with the rest of her.

•••

And she was quiet. Five watched for like an hour and a half as her eyes slowly focused on something new in his room every few moments. She was quite taken by the math equations across his wall, and he found it rather cute. He started to find her less annoying, now understanding that she coped the way his brother did.

He was alone once again in his room now, no longer accompanied by (Y/n). In fact, she was accompanied by one of her “friends.” She barely even knew the guy.

Five could hear everything. Every moan. Every word spoken with the intent of being quiet, but wasn’t held under the gentle guise of a whisper. It infuriated him.

Of course, he understood that she didn’t grow up in a particularly healthy home, given that she was in a homeless shelter at almost 18, so she didn’t understand healthy coping habits. It genuinely hurt his heart, if just a little bit, that he could watch another hurt soul walk down the same path as his brother.

Klaus had gotten help for his addictions, and was off addictive drugs completely, but even Five understood that not everyone will be able to get the help they need. He wouldn’t say he had any feelings for her, but he still felt sympathy.

Knowing that it was how she coped made hearing all of it a little easier, but he still wasn’t able to handle it after hearing it for fifteen minutes, so he jumped down to the kitchen, brewed himself some herbal tea, added a little vodka, and read his book, criss cross, on the table in the center of the room, attempting to ignore what was happening right across from his room.

•••

Bailey had just left, and (Y/n) was exhausted. He was kind of an ass, and he treated her like shit in middle school, but he was a horny teen, and it was really easy to just invite him over.

The trip was fading out now. She was no longer peaking, and the visuals were far less intense. (Y/n), after standing at the stairs, staring at them for a couple minutes, deemed it safe to be able to walk down them. She knew it was normally safe to go down the steps while tripping, but something in her head told her to wait, so she did.

These particular steps were a little steep, as well, so she made her way down slowly, leading herself to the kitchen in the basement. Her bare feet padded quietly on the floor as she walked to the stove, turning the heating element under the tea kettle on. The bags under her eyes felt so beyond heavy, and she knew she’d be sleeping deeply tonight.

“You done up there?” Five’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. (Y/n) turned and leaned on the counter to face him.

“Yeah, yeah, he left like ten minutes ago. I’m just really tired and want some tea to relax I guess.” Her arms were crossed, comfortably holding each other up.

Five hummed in response. “Well I see we both thought of the same thing.” He lifted his mug of tea, peppermint maybe, and put it to his lips.

“I thought you only drank coffee.” (Y/n) chuckled a little feeling the heat of the stove begin to reach her back.

“Well it wouldn’t be very logical to drink caffeine so late in the day, especially when I have to teach an early class tomorrow.” Five flipped the page of his book, continuing to read while talking to her.

“Makes sense.” Her words were drowned out by the high whistling of the tea kettle, letting her know she could pour it into the cup. Grabbing the tin of loose leaf tea, she hummed as she scooped it into the reusable tea bag that was next to it.

(Y/n) dropped the tea bag in the cup, following up with the boiling water. She turned, bringing her and her cup to the table, now sitting next to Five. Five was a grumpy, annoying, old, man who has to grow up all over again, but his company was enjoyable, it contrasted hers in such a way that it comforted her. It made her feel like her ADHD was less severe, like her inability to focus was matched by someone who could do nothing but focus.

Only a day had gone by since they met, and she was already comforted by him.

Five shut his book and looked over at her. The more he got to know her, the more subtly enjoyable he found her. Her sitting not two feet from him didn’t bother him as much as it usually would. He was kind of ok with that.

“You drink peppermint?” (Y/n)’s voice was scratchy and hoarse. She really did need the tea.

“Yeah, it’s the least fruity from what I’ve tried.” He took another sip. “Simple classic.” He set it down and looked over at her, engaging in an unexpected conversation.

“I tend to prefer fruitier teas, I’ve noticed.” She looked down at the cup that she’d been drinking out of for a couple minutes now. “They go down easier and really comfort me. Reminds me of my mom, she only ever made fruity teas.” She took another sip, letting the warmth fill her up.

“What happened to your mom?” Five looked back down at his drink, then back up at the girl next to him. “I noticed that you didn’t exactly live with her when we picked up your stuff.”

“Yeah..” (Y/n) hesitated a little. He was awfully blunt. “I was like seven when it happened, but I’m told it was a double suicide, between her and dad.” Her legs were swinging a little nervously. “Mom sent me up to my room one night and told me not to come out until she opened the door, no matter what. The next day a detective came into my room and carried me out screaming. They were both dead on the floor. I lived with my aunt and uncle after that.”

“Oh shit.” Five didn’t expect her answer to be this upsetting.

“Yeah. My uncle told me it was a double suicide, my aunt said the same thing, she manipulated me and made me think they did it because of me.” (Y/n) sighed into her drink, her distorted reflection staring back at her. “I don’t even remember what the scene looked like, just a lot of blood. I don’t look at anything about it either, don’t really want to relive it.”

“That’s really tough, wow.” Five chuckled uncomfortably and finished his drink. “I didn’t know my mother, but my mom was a robot. She was pretty much indestructible, but she was fully shut off when our house was being attacked a long time ago.”

“Oh my.” (Y/n)’s voice was soft, hoarse, and tired. Her hand gently moved to rest atop his, not really knowing how else to reassure him, if he even needed it, of course. “I’m sorry about that.”

Five didn’t even seem to notice his hand being covered. “No it’s fine, I got over it long long ago.” His words were just slightly slurred, and his eyes had reddened slightly.

“Well I’m here if you ever need like, a hug or something.” (Y/n) laughed. “I don’t really know how else to comfort anyone.”

“It shouldn’t be your job to comfort anyone, that’s not your responsibility.” Five chuckled and smiled slightly. (Y/n) hadn’t expected him to smile, and it wasn’t as weird as she thought it would be.

Before she could even mention it though, Klaus’s happy, booming voice echoed in the kitchen as he practically skipped to the fridge. As she yanked her hand away from Five, she noticed the way he pulled his arm away as well. Maybe he did notice?

Klaus and Five started talking about something as he got off the table and placed his cup in the sink, but she wasn’t paying attention. Before her attention was quickly pulled to the floor, she thought on the way Five had wrenched his arm away.

As anxiety inducing as it was, the LSD that was still in her system made it easy to quickly move onto the next thought. Before she knew it, a flash of blue wrenched her out of her head and she looked up at Klaus, now alone with her in the kitchen.

“Hey, sweetie.” Klaus kissed her cheek and led her gently off the table and to the stairs. “Your trip going good?” He popped a black olive in his mouth.

“Yeah it’s going fine, I really like it. It’s kinda different from shrooms, but not like a bad different.” She was just two steps behind him, trying to keep the same pace as him.

“That’s great.” Klaus hummed as he popped another olive in his mouth. “These are absolutely amazing. I figured you would like it, it’s really calming and stuff for me. Makes the sad feeling kinda disappear for weeks after.”

“Oh same, I’ve just felt creative and warm all day.” They stopped in front of Klaus’s room, Klaus still eating his olives. “I’m actually exhausted too, the trip felt really nice.”

“Well I’m glad I could have helped.” Klaus pulled her into a tight hug, humming loudly. Hugs felt great on psychedelics, she had noticed.

“You helped so much.” (Y/n)’s voice was slightly muffled by Klaus’s chest. She pulled out of Klaus’s chest, speaking again. “I’m gonna go to bed now, if that’s ok, I’m so so tired.” She laughed a little.

“That’s fine, I’m gonna crash the moment I hit my bed, so..” Klaus smiled down at her, thankful for this mini-him.

“Night night, Klaus.” (Y/n) and Klaus both separated to head to their rooms, both about to sleep deeply enough to miss a train going through the house.

The stairs up to her new room were an almost pastel green color, covered by what looked to be years of grime and nicotine stains. It added character, she thought. The checkerboard floor at the top of the stairs seemed to lead her straight to her new room, which she was really thankful for, she was exhausted.

Her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, twisting the old carved crystal just enough to open it. She closed it the same way, with just enough effort for it to work, she could have sworn she saw something blue flash near her, but she doubted herself immediately. Once she plopped on the bed, her fingers dragged her phone across the sheets towards her.

It took (Y/n) two full minutes to open her phone, not remembering her password and then not being able to type the right letters slowed her down significantly. It wouldn’t matter though, because once she turned on some quiet music, she was fast asleep.

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paperbodiesamongthestars · 4 years

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Promises

He didn't have a lot of friends. That required trust, and trust just wasn’t something Billy Hargrove did. Except with Steve Harrington, apparently. Steve was his friend, which was fine. Billy would have preferred a lot more, but that did not seem particularly likely. Not for lack of trying on Billy's part, honestly. At this point, Billy was so overtly flirty with Steve that he was worried he had overshot genuine interest and was fast approaching the realm of parody. He had spilled his beer on Steve no fewer than four times in the past several months in the hopes that Steve would go to change out of his wet clothes and realize halfway through that just...hanging out in his underwear would be totally fine. Instead, Steve always disappeared into Billy's bedroom, completely at home in Billy's space, and came back wearing Billy's clothes. And that was somehow worse?

And the thing was—the thing was!—Steve clearly wasn’t uninterested. He blushed when Billy teased him. His breath hitched when Billy touched him sometimes. His pupils went wide when Billy stretched or flexed or did that one thing with his tongue. And he didn’t avoid touching Billy, like just about everybody else did, or touch him like he was something fragile or broken. He touched Billy casually all the fucking time. He hugged him when he arrived, and fell asleep against his shoulder, and tucked his feet under Billy’s thigh on the couch, and kissed him on the cheek before he left. He even kissed him on the fucking forehead sometimes, which made Billy feel small and blushy and unbearably cared for.

Billy wondered sometimes if he should just be honest with Steve, but that was tricky, wasn’t it? Because in this particular case, he couldn’t be honest with Steve without betraying a little too much about himself. And it’s not like he had all that many secrets left. Neil was gone and his treatment of Billy was common knowledge, at least among the people who knew what had actually happened at the mall. So, the vast majority of the people Billy actually talked to anymore. It turned out that competent doctors could tell the difference between recent monster trauma and years of physical abuse, and Steve's little group of nerds and their various hangers-on were around enough and had overheard enough to put it together. The fact that Billy was not actually into girls was also common knowledge among that same subset of people, but only because Billy had been in a coma, so he hadn't been able to mention to Eleven that she might not want to share that little tidbit with her friends. Billy wasn’t mad—couldn’t be, not at her—and with Neil gone, he supposed he had a little less to fear on that front. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to do anything about it, aside from continuing to flirt shamelessly with Steve. So he only really had the one big secret left.

Here's how it was: Billy Hargrove, at the time that he was impaled by a massive interdimensional flesh monster, did not have a whole lot to live for. He had a shitty father and a mother who had fucked off quite a while back and a stepsister who had not yet given up on him for some reason, but who was also probably better off without him. He had a hopeless crush on a gorgeous, oblivious straight boy; several delightful mental images of that same straight boy in a frankly pornographic sailor outfit that he somehow had to wear for work; and treasured memories of California, but not quite enough money or guts to fuck off back to the beach where he came from, with or without Steve Harrington. All of that stuff was good, and it got Billy through the day sometimes, but none of it was actually something to live for. Steve Harrington in that sailor outfit came the closest, but Billy was never going to get to take it off of him, so what was the fucking point?

And Billy knew, even though he didn't exactly remember it, that it had gotten pretty bad for him a few times as he was recovering. Like, 'they were sure they were going to lose him' bad. And people had said a lot of fucking stupid things to him, both while he was in the hospital and after he got out, about fate and love and redemption. About holding on for the sake of the people you cared about. About not knowing what you had until you lost it. About how he must feel so lucky to be alive. And Billy hated all of it so fucking much. He wasn't alive because he had had some big epiphany about how precious life was, or because fate had spared him, or because he thought anyone on the planet would spend more than about thirty seconds being sad if he died. What he did have, what had actually kept him going when it got bad, were these...well, they weren’t anywhere close to clear enough to be called memories.

They came from that long, hazy period when his body was gradually knitting itself back together. When the boundary between being asleep and being awake hadn't seemed real at all. When he had almost no visual memories, aside from brief flashes of fluorescent lights or the shadows of people moving around above him. He had a handful of half-remembered phrases in various voices: Max whispering sorry, El whispering I won't tell. And these...other sentences. These promises, in Steve Harrington’s low, husky voice.

Billy was in no way certain that they were real. He didn't know how much of anything from that time was real. What they were was meaningful, which made it fucking impossible to talk about them. Unlike all the bullshit about fate and family and redemption, they had helped him. Had helped a lot, actually. Had given him something tangible to live for when it would have been so much easier to just let it all slip away. But that was the other thing--they weren't exactly things that Steve Harrington would actually, conceivably say to him. They were things he would have killed to hear from Steve, would still kill to hear from Steve, but Steve was sweet. Goofy, affectionate, kind. Unfailingly supportive. An invaluable friend throughout Billy's recovery. An invaluable friend who consistently, gracefully deflected Billy’s obvious flirting. It hardly seemed possible that he had said those things, and Billy really didn’t want to find out that he hadn’t. It was too awful to contemplate. Because, shit, they still kept him going sometimes, a year and a half later.

The first one came to him from far away, like he was hearing it from the bottom of a well. “I swear to God, Billy, if you make it through this I’ll let you choke on my dick whenever you feel like it.” So, like, there was a fair amount to unpack there. First of all, Steve almost never actually called him Billy, even now. And secondly, literally everything else about that sentence. It wasn't possible that it was real. Billy had to have made it up, given himself a fucking reason not to move toward the light or whatever. And if that had been the only one, he would have dismissed it as an obvious fabrication of his own mind without a second thought. But it wasn’t.

The second one was a little clearer, though all of them were maddeningly hazy. Had he actually felt Steve’s breath against the shell of his ear while he'd said it? It was impossible to say. “Hey gorgeous, hang in there, ok? Wouldn’t want you to die before I get the chance to fuck you so hard you forget your own goddamn name.” It was true—he absolutely did not want to die before that happened. That one had gotten him through some bleak nights, even after he woke up. He still got half hard every time he thought about it.

The next one was maybe Billy’s favorite. Although, honestly they were all his favorite. He wasn't sure he had ever treasured anything more. The third time, he was almost sure he could feel the warmth radiating off of Steve’s body as Steve leaned in next to his ear. “Come on, tiger, you gotta get through this so you can show me absolutely everything you can do with that tongue.” A little less filthy, maybe, but no less motivating. He did want to do that, very much. He had thought about it quite a bit while he was in the hospital. He still thought about it just about every time Steve came over to his apartment, which was often.

The fourth one changed it up a bit. “We’re going to sit there on the sand and watch the sun set over the ocean, and I’m going to make you cream your swim trunks right there on the beach.” And goddamn, that was quite the mental image. Fuck a bunch of holding on for the people you cared about; that was worth living for.

The fifth one was ragged, a little desperate. “You can’t die, baby. I’ve never let anybody put their dick in me before, and you have to live so you can do it.” That one came with the gentle sensation of a hand in his, the phantom press of lips to his temple. He was pretty sure he woke up just a few days after that one. And rightfully fucking so, honestly.

So yeah. He still had the one secret. And there was no fucking way to talk about it without revealing way too much about himself. So he didn't talk about it, and he was never going to talk about it, and he was going to go to his grave not knowing if any of it was real, and he was going to be fine with that because there weren't any other options. Until Steve slipped up.

It was far too early on a Saturday morning. Steve had arrived at an even more ungodly hour and had dragged Billy out of bed for some weekend trip. He wouldn't say where they were going, but he promised it was going to be great, and Billy could sleep in the car, and they were going to have the time of their lives. So Billy was slouched grumpily in the passenger seat, nursing an enormous coffee and periodically glaring at everything out the window for having the audacity to exist at this hour. He didn't glare at Steve. All of this was Steve's fault, but Billy couldn't be mad at him when he looked all sleepy and his hair was a mess and he was wearing his fucking glasses instead of his usual contacts. Billy couldn't be mad at him under any other circumstances either, but he deliberately didn't think too much about that, so it was fine.

Billy watched out of the corner of his eye as Steve sipped his own coffee and stifled a yawn. Steve had spent the first half hour of the drive not talking at all, but the coffee was apparently kicking in, so now he was trying to get Billy excited about his mystery plan.

“Come on, tiger, you’re going to love it,” he finally said. Billy wasn’t fully awake, so it took a second for it to land. Come on, tiger. When it did, Billy’s head snapped up, eyes wide. It could easily have been a coincidence; Steve would have been fine if he had just played it off, but that's not what happened. When Billy looked up, Steve was staring intently out the windshield, resolutely not looking at him. But his shoulders were creeping up around his ears and his face had gone scarlet. Billy felt a grin spreading across his face. Suddenly, he was on top of the goddamn world; this was shaping up to be the best day of his life. He stared at Steve’s profile for a long moment as the flush from his face spread down his neck. The atmosphere in the car was electric. Billy took a deep breath and tried to get himself under control. Steve's entire demeanor had hope beating wildly in his chest, but there was still room for this to end in disappointment.

“Absolutely everything, huh?” Billy said it quietly, carefully, deliberately, and then he held his breath. Steve made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, and Billy felt giddy. Steve had been right--they had only been on the road for forty minutes, but Billy was already having the time of his life on this trip. Steve didn't say anything, but after a few long moments of silence, he pulled the car over onto the shoulder. After he carefully put the car in park and turned it off, he dropped his forehead to the steering wheel. He didn't lift his head when he spoke.

“I didn't think you remembered," he said slowly. Billy didn't say anything and after a moment, Steve gave a little sigh and continued, still talking mostly to the floor. "The first time, it was a fucking Hail Mary. You were declining fast and nothing was working, and I just...I had a hunch. So I waited until everyone else had left the room and I tried it." Billy was absolutely delighted picturing it, Steve flushed bright red, leaning down to whisper stuff about his dick into Billy's ear. "They kicked me out right after that, at about four am. They told me to go home and get some rest, and to be prepared for bad news. But when I got back to the hospital a few hours later, you were doing better.” Steve cleared his throat. “Apparently you started improving shortly after I left. I told myself it was probably a fucking coincidence, but part of me thought that maybe it had actually worked." He huffed out a laugh. "I could barely fucking believe that you weren’t dead; it was bad. And then a couple of weeks later, it got bad again. So I tried it again. And you started doing better again. And then it was like this secret that we had. That I had,” Steve corrected himself. He sat up and dropped his head back against the headrest, but he still wouldn't look at Billy. He stared out the windshield instead. His face was still bright red. “And then you actually woke up. I didn’t know if you remembered any of it, and I didn’t want to be the kind of person who would come onto you while you were in a fucking coma and then act like you owed me something afterwards, so I kept my mouth shut.”

"Steve," Billy said softly. Steve rubbed his hands over his face.

"I'm sorry," he said, and Billy stopped breathing for a second.

"Don't," he said quietly. They sat in silence for a long moment, and then Billy decided that he had to know what exactly Steve was apologizing for. “Did you...” he started to ask, but he found that he couldn’t finish the sentence. Steve glanced at him and his face softened before his eyes shied away again.

“Mean it? Yes. Fuck yes. Every word.”

“Then what the fuck, Steve?” Billy had been beyond obvious for months. Steve sighed. His hands came back up to his face, and then he sat up straighter and squared his shoulders.

“You just...you went through something so awful, and it was like...your world got so small. You were trapped in the hospital, and now you're trapped in Hawkins until they clear you to leave." Steve glanced over again, and his voice got smaller. "I just...I really wanted you, but I didn't want you to do something you'd regret just because I was there, you know? And I still don't want you to feel trapped into something just because you can't leave this goddamn town. I would never want you to be with me just because you don't have any other choices."

Ok, so there was plenty to unpack there, and all of it was wrong. Except the part where Steve said he wanted Billy--that part was the best thing he had ever heard. Well, the sixth best thing he'd ever heard. There was a silence while Billy thought about what he wanted to say. He took a breath to psych himself up.

"The first thing you should probably know is that I was into you well before any of the Mindflayer stuff even happened. So there's that." Billy cleared his throat, watching Steve out of the corner of his eye. "And the second thing you should know is that I got cleared to leave Hawkins over a month ago." Steve's head whipped around, wide eyes on Billy's face.

"Then why..." Steve trailed off. Billy had considered leaving, but only briefly. He wanted to go back to the beach, he did, but not by himself. Not anymore.

"Steve," Billy said again, giving Steve a look. "You know why." After all, Billy had been the opposite of subtle about it. Steve just stared at him, eyes going impossibly wider as Billy deliberately took off his seatbelt and moved into Steve's space. "But fine, if you need me to spell it out, I'm definitely not in this car with you right now because I don't have any other options."

He leaned in and pressed his lips to Steve's. Steve responded immediately and enthusiastically, and something that had still been wound tight in Billy's chest eased. By the time they broke apart to breathe, Billy was practically in Steve's lap, both of his hands up under Steve's shirt. Steve had one hand at Billy's lower back and the other buried in his curls. They sat panting a little, their foreheads pressed together. Billy smiled wickedly.

"I would just like to point out that you made a lot of promises about what was going to happen if I didn't die, Harrington, and I held up my end of the bargain." Steve's answering smile was bright and just a little cocky.

"I'm looking forward to keeping every single one of those promises, Hargrove. We can start as soon as we get where we're going." Billy frowned at him.

"I survived being impaled by a giant flesh monster because you promised me--"

"My giant flesh monster?" Steve cut in, cracking up halfway through. Billy snorted, but did not further dignify that with a response.

"As I was saying," he said instead, "I am alive today because you have a really nice dick and a filthy mouth, and I have been waiting on both of them for months, and I am definitely not waiting three more hours to get started." He punctuated this declaration by reaching for the top button of Steve's pants. He had it and the next two buttons open before Steve reached out to stop him.

"Billy," he hissed, "we are parked on the side of the highway! We are not doing this here. Literally anyone could look over at any time and get a fantastic view of exactly what we're doing." Steve had a point, but Billy didn't have to like it.

He sighed and kissed Steve one more time, hard, before he reluctantly clambered back over to the passenger seat.

"Fine," he said. "We can compromise." He leaned over and grabbed Steve's wrist to look at his watch. Then he smiled at Steve, sharp and a little predatory. "I'm going to start sucking your dick in twenty minutes, if not before. We're still in fucking Indiana, so that should give you plenty of time to find some deserted back road somewhere." Steve was already starting the car.

He grinned over at Billy as he pulled back into traffic and made his way to the next exit.

"So you're going to start at the top and work your way through them, huh?"

"Maybe. We'll just have to see," Billy said. He paused. "I gotta say, pretty boy, I'm legitimately fuckin' impressed. I didn't know you had it in you." Steve smirked at him.

“Hey, give me some credit. I knew you well enough to know that if I had mentioned feelings, or called it making love, you would have immediately chosen the sweet embrace of death.” Billy laughed along with Steve because Steve was right: at one point, Billy absolutely would have done that.

Not anymore, though. Not if it was Steve. But he wasn't about to just blurt that out, so. He could still have one secret. For now, anyway.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #my writing #I don't know man #I wrote this at three am a couple weeks ago #I'm done staring at it so now you get to look at it #I'm sorry #or you're welcome!#one of those

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gureishi · 4 years

Text

Hi hello hi.

I’ve got a bunch of wonderful prompts sitting in my inbox but I was feeling anxious af yesterday and today I had to go to a freakin Zoom funeral and my anxiety brain instead spewed out...this.

I was watching a playthrough of the Forgive ending to try and sort out the timeline for the Jihyun request I’m writing (which I should be posting tomorrow~ <3) and then I started thinking about the disturbing little hints that are in there about depressed Saeyoung and alcohol, and then my anxiety said I needed to write about it. So I transposed that thought into another timeline so my boy could have an mc cause god knows otherwise it would get way worse.

I know alcohol is a really sensitive topic when it pertains to the Choi twins because of their trauma relating specifically to alcohol and alcoholism. To be super super clear, drinking can be fine and okay and not harmful for lots of people, but that’s not the type of drinking I’m portraying here.

YEESH, I’ll stop rambling. Cw for alcohol abuse; if Saeyoung drinking alcohol is gonna be triggering for you please skip this one. Take care of yourself I love you <3

wanna be ok

The bunker is dark when you get home, and that is your first sign that something is wrong.

You’re off work a little early, and you fully expected to find the house bright and full of energy. Usually at this time, there would be at least one brother in the living room. There’d be a half-built robot croaking gibberish in a corner or an inexplicable mess from some overly enthusiastic project in the hall.

But when the door slides open (greeting you by name, of course), you’re met with darkness and a startling, eerie quiet. Could they both have fallen asleep…? You check your watch. It’s just after nine.

“Saeyoung…?” You slip off your shoes, calling quietly in case he really is asleep. He hasn’t been sleeping much since his father’s investigation began, waking up at night and pacing the house. Sometimes he does fall asleep at the computer, even these days…

No answer. You peek into the darkened living room. Nothing. No light from his office or the bedroom, either.

You hear a noise and spin, senses on high alert. All your instincts telling you that something is certainly off, you peer warily around the corner.

He’s in the kitchen.

“Babe?”

He’s perched precariously on one of the tall stools at the kitchen island. His arms are everywhere, splayed over the scrubbed wood; he’s slumped over, head in the crook of his elbow. His hair is mussed as though he’s been running his hands through it.

None of this surprises you too much—it’s much a difficult few days. But what does startle you is the stale, harsh smell in the air. There’s a bottle on the counter that looks suspiciously like…

Dread settles in your stomach like hot lead.

You call his name again, some foolishly optimistic part of your mind hopeful that this is an off-color prank. But this isn’t the kind of thing he jokes about.

At the sound of his name, he stirs, lifts his head. As he does, he slips to the side, almost falling off the stool—catching himself at the last minute on the island.

He blinks at you blearily, as if he’s trying to get you into focus, and you know in that moment that he’s not messing with you.

“Hiii, babe,” he slurs, his voice thick. He tries to say your name, stumbles over it. Laughs at himself.

“Honey.” You approach him cautiously. Closer up, the smell is unmistakable—it’s whiskey, mingling with his natural spicy-sweet scent in a way that you find particularly unsettling. “What did you do?”

He tries to spin around in the stool to face you and nearly falls again—you have to reach out an arm to grab him. He gazes at you dizzily, his eyes glazed over.

“Wha’ d’you mean?” he mumbles, his words running together. He sways dangerously on the stool and you put a hand on his shoulder, bracing him. Out of the corner of your eye, you peer at the bottle beside him—it’s one you’d gotten as a gift ages ago and put away in a closet. It’s more than half empty.

“Baby, why did you drink that?” You shift, taking his face in both your hands; he’s unstable again without your hand on his shoulder. You turn him, make him look you in the eye—and he tries, he tries, but his gaze slides over your face as though he can’t quite focus on it.

“You’re pretty,” he sings, and he leans forward as if to kiss you—and misses, his head falling onto your shoulder. “Missed,” he says, giggling. His hands reach clumsily for your waist.

It would be almost cute, you think, under other circumstances. If it weren’t Saeyoung, who doesn’t drink alcohol. Who’s promised himself never to drink alcohol—and for good reason.

He presses his lips against your neck, tilting sideways as he does so. Okay. Okay. One thing at a time. You know how to deal with drunk people, under normal circumstances. Just pretend it’s not Saeyoung. Just for now.

“Come with me, baby,” you say, expertly evading his grasp and offering him both your hands. “Let’s go sit somewhere a little more comfy, okay?”

“Don’wanna,” he mumbles, titling to the right. “Comfy here.”

“You’ll be comfier on the couch, I promise.” You keep your voice light. Taking both his hands, you give a gentle tug, and he obliges you, sliding off the stool without any of his usual grace or agility. He sways as he lands on his feet and you brace him with both hands again, waiting till his gaze clears.

You lead him to the living room and he comes obediently, albeit stumblingly.

“…m’too drunk for this,” he mutters, laughing at himself as he narrowly avoids running face-first into the door frame.

“Too drunk to walk to the living room?” You guide him more carefully now. Most people would be well and truly messed up from the amount that he drank—based on your cursory assessment of the kitchen, anyway. For him—someone who has, to your knowledge, quite literally never consumed alcohol before—it’s astonishing he’s even still conscious.

You steer him to the couch. He hesitates and you turn to him—his face has gone pale, and he claps a hand over his mouth.

“M’gonna…never mind.” He shuts his eyes.

With some difficulty, you get him onto the couch. He slides sideways immediately and you slip a pillow under his head. He smiles a sloppy, lopsided grin.

“…galaxy,” he murmurs, sinking heavily into the pillow. You don’t question it.

Confident that he’s not going anywhere, you make your way back to the kitchen, fill a big glass with water. Now that you’re alone, your hands are shaking.

It’s not the end of the world to get drunk, but it’s certainly less than great to do it alone. It’s worse, though, so much worse, because it’s him—because of the promise he made to himself, because of the memories of his mother’s violence, because of the fear you know he has of those same genes manifesting in him.

You know that the last few days have been difficult, that the trial’s brought up memories he’d long repressed. But you wouldn’t ever have anticipated…this.

What could possibly have happened?

You take in the havoc in the kitchen: in addition to the whiskey bottle, there’s a glass knocked over on its side as well as the usual debris from chips and other junk food. One of the stools is on the ground.

And where, you think suddenly, is Saeran?

You take a deep, steadying breath—care now, you remind yourself. Figure out the rest later.

When you return to the living room with the water, he’s crying.

His eyes are shut tight and he’s wrapped both arms around the pillow; there are tear tracks on his cheeks and as you approach he lets out a quiet, pitiful sob.

“Sweetheart…” You kneel beside him and he wriggles toward you like a wounded animal. You bring a hand to his face and wipe away the tears and he clumsily throws out one arm and dangles it over your body.

“Drink a little bit of this, please, love.” You tilt the cup toward his mouth and he opens his lips the tiniest bit. You get a little water in him; most of it ends up on the couch.

“…still hates me,” he mutters, pushing aside the cup, nuzzling his face into your chest. You stroke his messy, tangled hair with your free hand, pulling it off his forehead.

“Who does, baby?”

“Saeran…does.”

You run your fingers over his feverish skin; his cheeks are flushed and his forehead is warm to the touch.

“Saeran doesn’t hate you, honey. I promise he doesn’t.” You try again with the water. It’s a little more successful this time.

“Does. We hadda…fight,” he slurs. “Gotta…find’m.” Defying all logic, he tries to sit up again, using your shoulders for leverage. Even in this state, he’s stubborn as hell.

“Where is he?” you ask, not sure if Saeyoung will even be able to tell you. You help him wriggle into a sitting position, thinking it’s perhaps safer than lying down after all.

“Walk,” he murmurs. He’s trying to look at you again, his eyes wandering over your face. “Babe! Your face’s…blurry.”

You sigh. It’s not out of the ordinary Saeyoung to push Saeran too far, or for Saeran to snap at him and go for a walk to clear his head. You wonder if the confluence of circumstances—the trial, both twins’ tensions running extra high, the memories Saeyoung associates with his family and raised voices and a dark, empty house—led to this turn of events.

One of the cameras near the door flickers to life—someone’s coming into the garage. You sit up stick straight. Saeran was just on a walk—he couldn’t have gone far. Which means…

“Baby, I’m so sorry, but I need you to move again.”

He groans and mutters something you don’t understand, but you have no time to waste. Glad you’ve already got him sitting, you slide your hands under both his arms and pull. He sags like a rag doll, but he doesn’t weigh a lot, and you’re strong—you tug him to a standing position and he sways dangerously in place, his face pale again.

“Can’t,” he moans, and you don’t have time to pity him. You simply can’t risk the consequences—for both brothers—of Saeran finding him like this.

“C’mon, sweetheart, please try to walk. For me.” You kiss him firmly on the cheek and he perks up a little, reaching for you. You take both his hands again and walk backwards, guiding him to the bedroom.

“No more…” he moans, but you get him down the hall and into the room, giving the corners a wider berth this time.

Panting, you deposit him on the bed.

“…spinning,” he mutters, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

“I swear I will be right back,” you gasp, and you run from the room before he can respond. You sprint to the kitchen, sweep the whiskey bottle into the cabinet under the sink. You dump the glass and throw it under there too for good measure. You right the stool, leaving the chips bags—that’s normal enough.

But the smell…

You hastily grab your bag, which you’d dropped on the floor earlier when you’d found him here—pull out the little bottle of perfume you carry, spritz it liberally over the kitchen island. You inhale. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than nothing.

You throw open the big window over the sink and, bag under your arm, slink back to your bedroom. As the bedroom door is shutting behind you, you hear the security system beeping, the front door sliding open. Just in time.

You spin around. Now where is…?

A soft moan from the en suite bathroom answers your question. You peer through the dark—sure enough, he’s sprawled on the ground, head bent over the toilet. The fact that he’s managed to drag himself there is impressive. You sigh—this was inevitable and is probably for the best.

You sit with him there for a long time: pressing a cool, wet washcloth to his head, plying him with tiny sips of water when you can. He apologizes to you again and again in a raw, miserable voice; you stroke his hair and rub his back and promise him that he’s going to be okay.

Eventually he slumps into your lap and, almost incoherently, whispers the word “bed.” So you hoist him up again, arms around his torso; he tries valiantly to help you, stumbling through the doorway, over the carpeted floor. You guide him onto the bed and he practically melts into it, his breathing immediately slowing, deepening.

You get him as comfortable as you can—wresting his jeans off and casting them aside, tucking the blankets all the way around him. He murmurs groggily as you press a soft kiss to his forehead and then he’s out, chest moving slowly up and down, face peaceful.

You’d never know, you think.

You retrieve his glasses from the bathroom floor, fold them neatly on the bedside table. And then, steeling yourself, you slip through the bedroom door as quietly as you can, tiptoe down the hall. As you’d suspected, Saeran is still in the living room.

“Hey,” he says, lifting his eyes from the book he’s reading. He’s draped over the couch, white hair tousled. He’s turned on a lamp—the dim light illuminates the red roots that are just starting to grow in.

“Hi,” you say. For something to do, you fetch the cup of water you’d left on the floor earlier. Saeran doesn’t bat an eyelash.

“We had a fight,” he offers, unprompted. He drums his fingers on his book—the same nervous habit his brother has. “Did he tell you?”

“Um…sort of.” You put the cup on a side table. Nervously straighten one of the fluffy throw blankets.

“I was mean,” Saeran says bluntly. “I shouldn’t have been.”

You perch on the arm of the couch. Once, he would have flinched away from you; now, he watches you impassively, green eyes unreadable.

“Was it about the trial?” you ask, with some hesitation.

Saeran shrugs. “I guess. He keeps all the TVs in the house on all day. I can’t stand hearing our father’s voice anymore.”

“Right.” You know this—know that the ongoing trial is wearing on them both, know that they’re coping in their own ways.

“Is he…” Saeran looks down and back up at you; his eyes are bright. “Is he mad?”

You take a shaky breath. “No,” you say honestly. “But he feels bad that you fought.”

“Should I talk to him?”

He is still looking at you. You’re surprised—he’s never asked you for advice before.

“Maybe in the morning,” you say, perhaps a little too firmly—but Saeran is unfazed.

“I get it,” he says. “I’m gonna go back to reading now.”

You smile, grateful as always for Saeran’s manner. There’s no risk of overstaying your welcome, because he’ll always tell you when he’s done.

“Good night,” you say. He looks up at you again, gives you a tiny smile.

“Night.”

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。

You wake abruptly the next morning. Through the haze of half-dream, half-wakefulness, you hear an intrusive rustling sound—then clunk. Clunk. Clunk. Your eyes shoot open.

“Saeyoung…?” you murmur, the events of the previous night momentarily evading you. You blink the sleep out of your eyes, see a blur of red hair in your peripheral vision.

He’s…cleaning?

“Oh god.” His golden eyes go huge with panic as he sees that you’re awake. He drops the mop (why was it clunking?) and throws himself onto the bed, kneeling beside you. “Hi. Good morning. Um. I am. So, so, so, so, so, so, so sorry. I mean, I—uh. Gah. I practiced this. Hang on—”

“Shhh.” You put a finger to his lips, pushing yourself up in bed. He sits back on his heels like a guilty puppy, eyes huge, waiting for a scolding. “So you remember last night, huh?”

His cheeks match his hair. He lowers his gaze.

“I am so, so, so, so…”

“Hush.” You take his face in both hands again, just as you’d done the night before. Tilt it up, forcing him to meet your eyes. “You don’t need to apologize to me. But I would like to know how it happened.”

He hangs his head, one red curl falling into his eyes. You brush it away.

“I don’t know,” he mutters. “You know I’ve never done that before. Right?”

“Yes, I know.” You slip out of the blankets and sit cross-legged, facing him. “Do you remember why you did it? Why you went looking for the whiskey that I didn’t even think you knew was in the storage closet?”

“I’d known where it was for a while,” he says softly, shamefully. “I found it one day when I was looking for an old hard drive and I guess I thought, wow, glad I know that’s there in case I ever lose my mind.”

This surprises you. You didn’t know he’d ever give it any thought at all.

“I wasn’t seriously thinking I was gonna drink it!” he says hurriedly, his cheeks growing—if it were possible—redder. “It was like a…weird, bad joke. Like, haha, what a great way to escape my mind if I ever hate myself that much. I…dunno.”

You make yourself take a deep breath. You hate it when he says things like this. “Okay, fine. So why did you…?”

“I fought with Saeran,” he says, still looking down. He twiddles his hands in his lap, fiddles with the blanket. “It was stupid. We were just tense about the trial. And then he left, and it got dark, and I was alone, and I just couldn’t…stop thinking about her.”

“Your mother.”

“Yeah.”

He taps a pattern on his thigh, too fast, too hard. You take his hand, wrapping up his fingers in yours. He shoots you a grateful glance.

“It’s hard to explain,” he mutters. “It was like I was possessed. It was this feeling, like if I could…get inside her head somehow, I’d understand.”

“Understand what?” You realize you’re squeezing his hand too hard and you make a conscious effort to loosen your grip.

“Why she didn’t love us,” he says simply. You look up; there are tears in his eyes again. Automatically you reach for him, catching a tear on your fingertip. You kiss it away.

“Did you?” you ask quietly. Slowly, he shakes his head.

“I don’t think I ever will.”

“Oh, Saeyoung…” You hold open your arms for him and he bows his head, falling into you. You cradle his head against your chest, kiss the tears from his eyelashes.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers.

“You are a wonderful man, and you deserve the world,” you say firmly. You wrap your arms all the way around his waist and squeeze him tight and he exhales, like he’s letting out breath he’s been holding for a long time.

“I’ll never do it again,” he says, his voice muffled by your shirt. “I promise. I mean it.”

You thoughtfully run your fingers through his curls, de-tangling them, pulling them apart one by one. “Can I ask you something I’ve asked you before?” you say tentatively. He nods; you can feel it. “Would it be okay if I just…got some names? My therapist offered to make a list for you before, you know, and you don’t need to commit to anything, but I just—”

“Yes.” He pulls back enough to peer up at you. There are tear tracks on his cheeks again but his expression is sure. “I’d like that.”

His eagerness takes you by surprise. You smile and kiss the tip of his nose.

“Thank you.”

He leans his forehead against yours. “I’m meant to be the one thanking you. You shouldn’t have had to take care of me last night. You should’ve just left me there.”

“Never.” You take a deep breath and he breathes with you, exhaling against your lips, tickling you. “Now would you please explain to me what the hell you were doing that woke me up this morning?”

He giggles, a little guiltily—still, you’re relieved to hear him laugh. “I felt like crap, both physically and emotionally. I thought I could start apologizing by…”

“Slamming the mop against the wall?”

“I don’t…actually know how to use a mop.”

That makes you laugh, and it feels good, like a release. You wrap your arms around his neck and he sighs against you.

“You’re gonna be okay?” you whisper. He nods, gazing at you reverently.

“Because of you,” he says. He strokes your hair with his long, thin fingers—cautiously, gently, like he needs reassurance that you’re still there. “I’m gonna be okay.”

#mystic messenger #mysticmessenger #saeyoung choi #707 #cw drinking #cw alcohol abuse

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roselen-mylady · 4 years

Text

In Another Life

Bucky Barnes x reader ° part ten

Summary: Waiting 88 years to find your soulmate? It was cruel. But it was a cruel fate Bucky would have to face whether he accepted it or not. Bucky was a tortured man all his life and he wasn't even granted the solace of having his soulmate at his side. All he had was the promise of one in another life. They were separated by two different times.

But the pain in their lives were connected.

Y/n had been alone ever since she could remember. All she could depend on was the soulmate that was destined to be at her side. Yet when the snap occurred she lost him.

And Bucky never got to meet her.

Though Steve showed no signs of leaving or the anger Y/n had feared, she still felt the anxiety that came from revealing her true past. He was supportive, as he always was and so was everyone else once they were told. Tony only had a mere, 'I knew it' to add to the subject and while Y/n was touched, she couldn't help the array of things she felt.

Foolish was one of them. Hiding her past from them before was stupid but Steve insisted that her going underground was probably best since HYDRA would've searched for her. While that brought her some solace she was still uncomfortable with the idea of becoming more involved. Something always went wrong and Nat was proof.

She missed her friend badly and Y/n couldn't help but feel it was her own cursed luck that had taken Nat. It was ridiculous to think that she could ever be happy. Stupid to think she could help her friends bring back everyone. Stupid to think she might actually meet her soulmate.

"Hey, kid. We're going to put the stones together." Tony cut into Y/n's racing thoughts. Her gaze lifted from the drawing Steve had given her, settling on Tony as he leaned in through the doorway.

She didn't know why she was still looking at the picture or why she had even accepted it. She wanted to believe she was still furious, still resentful. Wanted to force all the pain and guilt she felt into him once more. But in all reality she was just so lost. For years she pretended to be someone else and now that she was free to be the girl she once was, she didn't even remember who that was.

A genius? A hero? A terrified little orphan? She had no idea but she didn't want to be any. She wanted to be Y/n, a friend and a psychiatrist. She now understood why Steve wanted her around. He needed someone to remind him of who he was, who he truly was.

Was James that person once?

Was that why she found herself gazing at the sketch, hoping for a split second that maybe she could go back to the moment that was drawn? Praying to go back to a time where James Barnes was fighting for his past and his own will. A time where he might comfort her like he did Steve over the death of Nat. A time where his thoughts were his own and so we're his actions.

Y/m almost hated herself for despising him. Though she knew there was still much to his story she was too scared to ask, she knew he was nothing more than a tortured soul with a gun. She couldn't figure out how the man in the drawing was the same man who'd nearly killed her.

It wasn't.

Noticing her broken expression, Tony hesitantly stepped into the room coming to sit with her. Her fingers gently held the page and he looked down at it, recognizing the face instantly. It sent a chill through his spine, seeing the same face almost ripped the arc reactor straight from his chest.

It had taken him years to forgive Steve but he still struggled to do the same with the man who murdered his parents in cold blood. All the hatred toward his parents' assassin had gone unresolved since Steve and Bucky left him at that frozen HYDRA base. And once forgiving Steve, Tony had no other outlet and he found it difficult to sit there with the picture.

So he tried to focus on something else.

"So, you and Ms. Romanoff were close?" He mumbled trying poorly to begin consoling her. She nodded numbly, folding the paper and setting it aside.

The emotions she felt were mixed and intense making it hard for her to filter through her feelings but one surfaced more than others. Guilt.

"Ever since the snap." She replied, her shoulders slack. Tony and Nat had their own relationship, one much older than her own but they'd been apart for so long. Ever since Nat went off the grid with Steve and even after the snap when he distanced himself from all of them, they hardly interacted. But they were friends. The type of friends that wouldn't be parted even by death.

"Do you think things would be different if I hadn't showed up?" Y/n asked him suddenly. He looked over at her studying her guilt ridden eyes that she kept trained on the floor. It was a familiar look, one he wore often. But not one he wanted her to.

"Natasha wasn't the type of person to let anyone dictate her choices. I think she was ready to give her life for a cause and none of us could've stopped her." Tony sighed, the weight of her death finally reaching its max. "Not even a couple of geniuses."

•••

"Let's hope this doesn't blow up." Tony mumbled next to her. The small group consisting of them with the addition of Bruce and Rocket stood in the lab, waiting in anticipation as Tony carefully placed the stones in the gauntlet. With his shaking hands it was difficult to be precise while he manipulated the machine but he managed to place all six stones in their respective places. They held their breath unsure if the stones would react or blow up the lab as Tony feared.

"Boom!" Rocket yelled suddenly making all of them flinch. He began to laugh loudly and they all turned to him with annoyed looks. Y/n slapped the back of his head, cutting his laughing short as she walked off trying to ignore the trembling in her legs. Tony muttered something under his breath moving to bring the gauntlet to a more accessible area for the wearer.

"You're an asshole." Y/n groaned. Tony walked past them, putting the gauntlet on a display table that made it hover a couple inches above.

"Come on, it was funny!" Rocket argued, earning an unamused stare from both Tony and Y/n.

It took a few minutes for Bruce to collect everyone but eventually everyone was gathered around the gauntlet. Most had expressions Y/n familiarized with PTSD and once following their gazes she realized their experience with the gauntlet Thanos wore was resurfacing.

Hopefully, with the new one they'd be able to reverse what he'd done. But the trauma would stay. That she knew.

"All right. The glove's ready. Question is, who's gonna snap their fucking fingers?" Rocket questioned, looking up at the group. Their options were limited since most people in the room were only human, even Steve.

"I'll do it." Thor volunteered without hesitation. He drunkenly stepped forward making everyone turn to him with confused and reluctant looks. Their choices were limited but they weren't desperate enough to put such a powerful object on a drunk god.

"Excuse me?" Scott asked, glancing around at the others for one of them to tell Thor what a bad idea it was.

"It's okay." Thor insisted, marching forward with a purpose. Steve moved to stop him with the help of Tony making the poor large man pause.

"No, no, no, whoa. Stop. Stop. Wait a sec. Hey, hey–" Everyone was a mess of refusal and Thor's face turned hurt as he tried to continue.

"Wait, wait, Thor, just wait. We haven't decided who's gonna put that on yet." Steve explained. Thor shifted on his feet, clearly upset with their rejection.

"I'm sorry. What, we're just sitting around waiting for the right opportunity?" He asked,

annoyed. Scott looked to Y/n hoping she might use some of her 'therapist powers' he called them after realizing she really couldn't read minds.

"We should at least discuss it." Y/n tried to reason. Thor shook his head stubbornly, swaying unsteadily on his feet.

"No, no, sitting here staring at that thing is not gonna bring everybody back. I'm the strongest Avenger, okay? So this responsibility falls upon me. It's my duty." He told them, gesturing to the gauntlet then himself.

"It's not about that–" Tony told him gently, coming to stand in front of him as he started to move Thor back. Thor resisted but was unsuccessful as he started to grow emotional. "Hey buddy-" Tony tried again only to be cut short by Thor frantically shushing him and everyone else.

"Stop it! Just let me! Just let me do it. Just let me do something good. Something right." Thor begged, tears filling his eyes. He was desperate to prove he was worthy, to prove he could still be the hero he once was.

"Look– It's not just the fact that that glove is channeling enough energy to light up a continent, I'm telling you, you're in no condition." Tony fought. There was no way they were going to let him hold the fate of the world in his hand while he was drunk. Even the Thor he was years ago shouldn't have held that kind of power, it was too risky.

"What do you– What do you think is coursing through my veins right now?" Thor asked, his eyes studying Tony's for any kind of hope that might tell him they would let him make the sacrifice.

"Cheez Whiz?" Rhodey scoffed, earning a glare from Y/n. Thor looked over at Rhodey pointing a shaky finger at him as he tried not to cry in frustration. He held onto Tony, grasping at his shoulders and prying Tony's attention away from Rhodey's comment.

"Lightning." Thor corrected, looking back to Tony with pleading eyes. Tony nodded but he knew he couldn't allow Thor to wear the gauntlet. "Lightning." Thor repeated, distraught but Tony's reaction.

"Lightning won't help you, pal. It's gotta be me." Bruce announced suddenly. Thor shook his head letting go of Tony. "You saw what those stones did to Thanos. It almost killed him. None of you could survive." Bruce explained.

"How do we know you will?" Steve questioned as Bruce paced over to the gauntlet.

"We don't. But the radiation's mostly gamma. It's like...I was made for this." Bruce mumbled. He gazed intensely at the stones, silently calculating his odds. If the Hulk couldn't handle this, was this really how he was going to die? And if so would it even work?

They looked at each other knowing it was their best chance at bringing them back. They had to take it.

Tony stepped forward, grabbing the gauntlet and handing it to Bruce as they headed to a more secure part of the lab.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Y/n asked Bruce quietly. She knew how Nat's death had affected him and she refused to make the same mistake with him.

"Yes. We have to finish this." He declared. Y/n watched as he paced forward to catch up with Tony as she lagged behind to Steve.

"Do you think this will work?" Steve questioned. Y/n chewed her lip anxiously, focusing her stare at the gauntlet as Steve came to stand beside her.

"Bruce's gamma radiation is stronger and most equipped to handle the energy but it's still dangerous. The stones are too powerful together, I didn't think they were ever really meant to be used together." She sighed, hating the sacrifices that came with saving the world. If they lost someone else just for this to not work was it really even worth trying?

"Bruce is strong." Steve tried to ease her worry but it wasn't enough.

"I know. I just-I can't keep losing people, Steve. It's like a curse. Every time I try to do something good…-"

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're not gonna lose anyone else. Not on my watch." Steve promised but both of them knew it was practically empty. There was no guarantee. "Let's just bring everyone back."

Y/n tried to smile but like his promise it was hollow. "Yeah, okay."

"Good to go, yeah?" Tony questioned as Bruce carefully held the piece in his large hands. He seemed anxious but who wouldn't be in that situation.

"Let's do it." He confirmed as Y/n and Steve returned to the group. She walked around him, stopping beside Tony and sharing a steady nod.

"You remember–everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago, you're just bringing them back to now, today. Don't change anything from the last five years." Tony told him seriously.

"Got it." Bruce assured. Then suddenly the room grew quiet and a tenseness settled in the air that Y/n was too amazed to catch onto. For the first time she realized she was living the dream of millions of people. Everyone had readied themselves and Y/n watched as they stood there in their superhero uniforms, the power and determination they all had washing over her.

Tony pressed his chest allowing his suit to expand and morph to his body, a shield lighting up before him. His stare then drifted to Y/n who still stood there in her casual clothes, watching them all confused and out of place. Why were they getting ready now? They were doing this here?

"Hey, kiddo. Come on." Tony urged, motioning to her earpiece. She gave a soft 'oh' mimicking him as she pressed the button making her own suit appear. A shield of her own design came to her forearm and Tony eyed it curiously.

"Did you mess with the suit?" He asked, the seriousness in his tone startling her a bit. She shrugged, looking at him defensively.

"Yeah, you said it was just a prototype so I fixed it a bit." She explained. He looked away, grateful she couldn't see the entertained smirk on his lips as he turned back to Bruce.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., do me a favor and activate Barn Door Protocol. Will you?" Tony called. Y/n had gotten used to the suit during the time she could spare to examine it and she put 70% power into the armor, figuring if something did go wrong it probably wouldn't hurt to be a little more protected.

"Yes, boss." F.R.I.D.A.Y replied. Metal doors began to close off the lab as the compound went into lockdown and if the seriousness of the situation hadn't set in yet it definitely did then as Y/n widened her stance to try and brace herself.

"Everybody comes home." Bruce reminded himself, cautiously reaching his hand into the gauntlet. The gauntlet expanded to fit his hand thanks to Tony's nanotech but as soon as it was fully on the power of the stones surged through him. He grunted in pain collapsing to his knees as the energy began to burn into his arm.

"Take it off! Take it off!" Thor cried, waving his hands as Bruce shakily held the gauntlet. Steve stepped forward, keeping anyone from acting.

"No, wait. Bruce, are you okay?" Steve questioned. He knew more than anyone that just because something was painful didn't mean they couldn't do it.

"Talk to me, Banner." Tony called, becoming more concerned with each unresponsive moment. Y/n started moving to help but froze as Bruce looked up at them.

"I'm okay. I'm okay." He insisted. They eased up a little and everyone watched carefully as he tried to regain control of the stones. Thor gave a double thumbs up, watching the scene before him with an astounded expression.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y what are his vitals?" Y/n questioned anxiously. Charts bloomed around Bruce and she quickly read them realizing his heart rate was dangerously high. In fact everything was high, his blood pressure, his respiration rate, even his body temperature had increased. Bruce screamed again, fighting the instinct to remove the gauntlet from the overwhelming pain it caused him as he lined up his fingers.

The world seemed to stop at the echoing of the snap, the fated sound she'd only heard about for five years finally filling her head the same way it had for the others.

He fainted and the gauntlet fell off his arm, clattering on the floor before Clint quickly kicked it away from him.

"Bruce!" Steve called, kneeling beside him as the others rushed forward to check on him. Y/n tugged the remains of his sleeve back gently as Tony kneeled beside her, holding up his hand.

"Don't move him." Tony demanded, applying a coolant spray from his fingertips over Bruce's arm. Bruce groaned, reaching out and grabbing Steve's arm urgently.

"Did it work?" He questioned breathlessly, keeping his large hand tight around Steve's arm. Thor gave him a reassuring smile while Y/n looked over the damage of his arm.

"We're not sure. It's okay." Thor soothed, his voice hopeful as he turned his gaze toward the door where the lab was starting to open up again. Scott walked off to the now open area and some of the others spread out to see what had happened but Y/n stayed at Bruce's side.

"You did great, Bruce." She told him, giving him a smile to which he returned, though it was a bit more pained. A muted vibrating came from the table on the other side of the room and Y/n turned to see Clint walking over to it almost numb.

Did it work?

"Honey? Honey." Clint spoke, his voice quivering in joy as Y/n looked at Tony. They shared a wide eyed glance, both rattled by the idea that they might have actually won.

Y/n wished to look at her wrist, praying that the countdown she had before the snap returned. She couldn't even remember how many days it had read back then but it didn't matter anymore. She just wanted to meet her soulmate. Would he be looking for her?

Were his eyes really blue?

But their victory couldn't last long and Y/n knew that as she followed Bruce's gaze to the skylight above them. There flying menacingly above the compound was the biggest spacecraft she had ever seen and dread instantly set in upon seeing the missile coming their way.

"Look out!" Y/n screamed, trying to warn the others but it was too late. Her helmet quickly came forward along with her shield which she tried desperately to put over Bruce's head, protecting her and him from falling debris. But the roof wasn't the only thing falling apart.

The floor split and some of the group fell into the large hole while Y/n struggled to regain her balance. She quickly looked around her, catching sight of Steve sliding across the floor toward the hole. Using the thrusters, she launched forward, grabbing hold of one of the straps to his uniform and dragging him back toward Tony.

The building was falling down around them and any means of escape were closing off faster than she could find them. Steve managed to climb to his feet again but before either of them could come up with a plan a large piece of the roof fell, striking Y/n down. She cried out falling through the floor to the room below, getting pinned on her stomach under the roofing.

"Y/n!" Steve yelled, peering down into the hole. Y/n gasped, the impact knocking the wind out of her. Tony looked down too, the two men struggling to keep themselves up as they waited anxiously for her to speak.

"Minimal damage to prototype armor." F.R.I.D.A.Y announced making Y/n groan. She slowly lifted herself up using her back to push off the rumble before leaning back on her knees, panting slightly.

"You call that minimal?" She questioned, annoyed. Tony chuckled through the headset, her reply giving him a little relief knowing she was alright.

"The suits can handle more than we can, kid." He explained. Y/n grumbled, climbing to her feet. She didn't care how durable the suit was, she was still very much human inside the metal and every hit the suit felt, she did too.

"Are you okay?" Steve called, leaning closer to the edge of the hole. Tony put a hand on his chest, keeping him from falling in while Y/n slowly climbed to her feet.

"Yeah. I'm fine, Steve." She waved her hand pretending to be nonchalant before coughing from how forcefully her lungs had been emptied. They were about to attempt to go down to her when the floor they were on shifted and Steve fell over, sliding off to another part in the lab.

"Cap!" Tony called, trying to reach out and catch him. Steve called back that he would be alright giving Tony a little assurance as he turned his gaze back to Y/n. "This building is falling apart!" He called down to her.

"What do you want me to do?" She asked, looking around at the floor around her. She had landed in the living room area, one of her favorite places but like the rest of the facility it was falling to ruin.

"Find the stones. We can't risk losing them." Tony instructed. Y/n let out a short sigh, the weight of the task making her stomach turn.

"Is it too late to go home?" She joked. Tony smiled softly unbeknownst to Y/n. The building shook again with another hit and he knew he wouldn't have long to talk to her.

"No." He answered truthfully. If she could find a way out, there would be nothing stopping her. She could easily fly away and forget about this. "But you know what they say. It only takes one fight to make a hero." Tony explained.

Y/n pierced her lips, knowing that she never really intended on leaving. She was all in from the moment Scott had been yelling into the camera and though she'd been doubtful before, she knew this was where she was meant to be.

"Go be Iron Star." Tony chuckled, making her scoff and shake her head. Of course, he had to ruin the moment.

"We really gotta talk about that name!" She called, turning away and running off toward the window to her left. Using the thrusters in the metallic boots she flew forward and smashed through the glass, unsteadily keeping herself in the air outside.

"Just find the stones."

•••

When Bucky had woken up he was right where he'd been in Wakanda. T'Challa ran to him trying very hastily to explain what had happened. They had been gone for five years according to the wizard man they called 'Strange' and now they needed to come fight Thanos again.

While Bucky was usually quick to understand and move on to the next fight, he couldn't help but stop at this news. He'd promised himself that the fight with Thanos was the last time so that he could find his soulmate but he was still fighting. When would it stop?

For a split second he feared maybe his chance at meeting his soulmate had come and gone and he frantically ripped back his right sleeve to look at his wrist.

"3 days?" Sam asked, peeking down at Bucky's arm as T'Challa organized his army. Bucky numbly nodded, his heart racing as he watched the seconds tick away. He was three days away from her.

He had to make it through this time.

No matter what.

•••

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, can you scan the compound for the stones' energy signature?" Y/n questioned, looking over the wreckage of what was once the Avengers compound. It didn't even look the same, all blown to the foundation with rubble spread around like a battlefield.

"I detect energy levels matching the stones underneath the building in the sewer systems. You should have access through what's left of the first floor." The A.I. answered. Y/n flew over to the nearest opening of the building, using micro lasers to burn a hole into the floor leading down into the sewers.

She jumped down into it, landing as quietly as possible before looking around. It was hard to see much, the only light being the blaring red light of the alarm system but the tunnel appeared empty other than the obvious debris and flooding. She cautiously walked forward watching as her display outlined the surrounding area.

It was eerily silent, the soft trickling of water putting her on edge as she continued down the tunnel, following the power signature of the stones.

"I detect hostiles approaching." F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke suddenly. Y/n watched carefully as her display changed, showing a clearer picture using an x-ray of the surroundings. The stones rapidly approached as did the hostiles and she quickly held up her hands, powering up the repulsors as Clint ran into her vision.

"Shoot 'em!" Clint screamed, narrowly dodging one of the creatures that lined the tunnel. Y/n did what he said, firing at the closest creature before moving onto the next, trying to hold them off long enough for Clint to run past her.

"What the hell are these things?!" She yelled, following after him as they both broke off into a sprint through the water.

"I don't know but I'm tired of this alien shit!" Clint shouted over his shoulder as Y/n glanced back at the creatures, firing again at one that got too close. Clint pulled out one of his arrows, throwing it into one of the pipes next to them before running faster.

Catching onto what he was doing, she picked up speed as well, jumping with him as the arrow exploded taking out most of the creatures. Y/n looked up from the ground, noticing that some of them had started to crawl through the flames making her climb to her feet, grabbing Clint under his arms.

She activated the thrusters and they launched up, faltering a bit since Y/n had barely learned to fly by herself let alone while carrying someone. Clint unsheathed his sword, yelling as he cut through some of the creatures that had climbed up beside them.

Once reaching the top Y/n dropped him to the side before falling herself, tumbling a few feet away. Clint climbed to his knees, holding out his sword as he let out a threatening shout. Thankfully, no other creatures appeared over the edge and he collapsed onto his back next to Y/n.

"Hey." Clint chuckled, nudging Y/n tiredly. "You're an Avenger now." He told her drawing a half-hearted laugh from her. She groaned the pain in her ribs increasing at the action and she put a hand over her side.

"Being an Avenger hurts."

•••

Once going through the portal the wizard had made, Bucky was met with a wasteland. Thanos and Steve watched as others arrived through the portals and while Steve's expression was much more relieved than Thanos', it was clear they were only evening the playing field as Bucky looked toward Thanos' forces.

The Wakandan armies chanted as hundreds of other heroes came through the portals, each ready for the final battle. He walked forward, coming to stand a few feet away from Steve as he studied the enemy across the way. He was determined to finish what they had started five years ago. He wanted to find his soulmate and he wanted this fight to truly be the last.

"Avengers!" Steve called. Bucky held his breath, hoping with everything he had that for all his misfortune over the years, today would end better.

He'd suffered for a lifetime.

Please let this be the last fight.

"Assemble."

Everyone yelled, running forward at Thanos' forces. The fight broke out and Bucky managed to find himself alongside the raccoon he'd encountered last time. They shared brief eye contact and Rocket's eyes flashed with recognition while Bucky tried to ignore him.

"How about now?!" Rocket yelled, motioning to his arm. Bucky glanced over at him, growing annoyed with the talking animal's persistence. What the hell would a raccoon do with his arm?

"No!" Bucky yelled back. He turned, noticing one of the creatures had been sneaking up on Steve while he had his back turned and Bucky quickly shot at it, knocking it down. Steve turned, giving Bucky a grateful and joyous smile. Bucky smiled back making sure to keep aware of the creatures around him.

"What the hell did you get me into, Steve?" Bucky yelled teasingly. His friend gave a short chuckle, using the large hammer to slam back another one of Thanos's creatures.

"Nothing two old men can't handle."

Taglist:

Part eleven

@cancanmarvel

@jessyballet

@eldahae

@mc225g

@kissesofdeadforme

@wantingtobekorra

@sxphiiwrld

@lunaticbarnes

@indecisivedolly

@saiyanprincesswanie

@lextheflexsthings

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@mela-noche

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 5 years

Text

Life After Snowpiercer: Tell Me, Please?

Summary- Curtis Everett x Y/N. Tensions are still there between you two, but Curtis demands an answer. Your group collects the last bit of supplies and makes it towards the front, only to be confronted at the end. Trauma, Some Violence. Word Count- 4.9k

Chapter 7 / Masterlist

Curtis watched you sleep, in sleep you relaxed yourself from whatever plagued you, during the night having pulled in half sprawled across his very sore ribs, and laid your head in the center. The rise and fall of your shoulders so slight that he would have to really be studying them to see that yes, you were still asleep. You faced away from him, but you sighed softly and shifted yourself, tilting yourself closer, his eyes able to rove over the curve of your nose, and how your lips have chapped slightly. The dark bruises under your eye, at first it would see to have been tiredness, but much to the anger he was feeling coil in his gut, someone must have hit you hard at some point the past few days. His eyes continued to rove, noticing other scrapes, and bruises along your scalp line. Would you tell him though? Further he noticed that there was a cut in the corner of your mouth and without a thought, his fingers brushed along the mark, hissing to himself when your eyes shot open, unfocused and a touch of fear clouding them. In all the years you two have known each other, you never looked at him like that, and it phased him more then you could know.

You were fallen in one of those dreamless deep sleeps, the kind where your cocooned in darkness and nothing is drawing you forward into images. Blackness, soothing blackness. There was no visual moments where you had to think and rationalize. It was peaceful. Things merely ceased to exist.

A touch brought you back, so light but the sting it left near your lips brought it back and you tensed, ready to yank away when your eyes opened, prepared for the worst, that sneering grin reaching for you in your safe place, ready to drag you out and put vile pain all over your body. No, we escaped, we got out.

Curtis face sharpened second later in your view, and you softened, loosening your grasp in his jacket where you had fisted your hands to keep from being pulled away. See Y/N, your safe. This is home. Curtis hand slid from your mouth to brush aside the soft hairs curling over your cheek, and you dragged in a deep breath, and released it, feeling your chest expand and his steady heart beating underneath your cheek kept you grounded. “Bad dream?” Curtis asked after a few seconds of the two of you just staying silent. You quirk the corner of your mouth a bit “Nothing serious Curtis.” Your hand smoothed over his chest and you realzined where you were laying. “Shit sorry baby, your ribs.” Going to move his hand clasped on the back of your neck to keep you from moving.

“Dont, they are fine. Tell me about what you were dreaming about?” Hoping she would relax enough just the two of them to talk about what you were thinking about. His grasp turned lighter now that you werent moving, sliding his thumb over the column, and you slightly relaxed once more, biting your already chapped lips and wincing slightly at the sting.

“Yea, I saw you favoring your side Curtis” You informed him, but you didnt move. Honestly after the past few days, you were just fucking thankful you got to do this again. “And nothing, hell I think I was so damn tired, it wasnt sleep. Somewhere just before a coma.” You rub your face lightly against his chest and sigh. “I could slip back into it right now if we didnt have to prepare to move to the front.” His thumb continued to feather along your neck, circling over the bruises of fingertips that had pressed down to hard. Faint, but Curtis saw them better now that your hair wasnt covering them.

“What happened Y/N?” his brows coming together and lifting the heaviness of your hair back from your neck. You then pulled away and straightened your hair back over your neck. He shifted to half sit up on his elbows. “Y/N, you gotta tell me who put hands on you?-” His inquiry got interrupted when your name got called, and you took the moment to avoid Curtis questions, calling back out. “In here!” Tugging on your jacket and looking at Curtis “We will talk about it later baby, promise.” His hand moved against your arm to keep you with him, but you slipped out of his hold. Leaving him there with more questions and no answers. His lips thinned tightly and his jaw clenched, a dark suspicion inkling its way into his thoughts.

All of those fuckers are dead. His thoughts snapped as he snatched his jacket, trying to keep from blowing over. Im going to hunt every single on of them down. It was the last thing you needed was him loosing his temper, but that didnt stop the rage building in his chest, or the guilt. Why didnt I leave them with protection? Gone back, brought them weapons... Hearing your footsteps descend away, Curtis knew that you were heading towards the wounded. Grasping his beanie, and leaving the warmth and comfort of the momentary home, and slipped it on. Now that it was day, he could see just how far the group had been able to do. They had gone through several cars and hauled out anything decent. Catching a glimpse of you leaning down to check Saras shoulder, you also caught sight of Edgar sitting up, and a box next to him, stuffing something into his mouth.

“Is that... crackers?” Curtis asked as Edgar held his arm out to grasp and get up. With some effort, Edgar managed to get to a stand, hauling the beat up cracker box with him. “Yea, they found a bit of this kind of stuff a few cars up. Dried goods, flour, sugar, cans.” He held out the box for Curtis to reach his hand into and withdrew a few crackers that he took a bite of. It was stale as fuck, salty, and just about one of the best things he can remember ever having.

“Yes, I remember passing through right after the water, supplies Im assuming for the rest of the train. There was a few more similar closer to thre front as well” Curtis mentioned, and Edgar nodded over to where a pile of food had been made, along with clothing and blankets. “Im sure the front survivors have already raided some of those others.” Maybe they will be okay until were able to figure out a more permanent solution. “Hows your back?” Curtis turned his attention away from the supplies, and Edgar turned, lifting his shirt enough so Curtis could see. The length of the actual stab looked to be a good three inches long, red all around. Although burned from where the ax blade had laid across it, it was sealed. You came on over just then and ducked around Curtis, getting in for a closer look.

“Thank God they got it sealed” You breathed out and tugged on Edgars shirt to have him put it back down, when he turned to face you, you drew in close and hugged around his neck. “You punk, I told you to be careful” Curtis cast a downward glance, regret and guilt passing and Edgar shook his head lightly Dont... You never saw the exchange pass between the two men. “Yea well, when I ever bloody listen anyways?” Edgar withdrew and smirked at you, causing you to scowl at him.

“Well Im back now, so your gonna.” You point a finger at him, and then smooth your hand against his arm in a loving gesture.

“Are the people able to travel? Or do they still need some recovery time?” Curtis changing the subject from Edgar, his hand rested against your waist, and it felt heavy to you, like he wasnt ready to let you go, that you were actually with him. He must have really believed he wouldnt see me again.

“If we go slow, Im sure we can. Everyones so exhausted though, another day might not hurt anyone.” You tip your head towards Edgar and he immediately rebutes it although you ignore him. “Sara, shes bad off. Its inflamed and im worried I might not have gotten everything out. It was hard to tell...” You drifted off as Curtis took a glance at the woman you were talking about. Seeing her huddled against the wall, head tipped forward. “She says she can travel, but she will need to stop alot.”

That confirmed it for Curtis, he shook his head. “Then we stay, one more day.”

The rest of the time was spent sorting through supplies, packing it in a way it could be carried. Outside fires were kept stroked and burning, using debris off the train, and someone found large hollowed metal bins that with some scrubbing could work to melt snow in. The idea of being able to wash up appealed to you, and once you were sure the others waters needs were met hours later, you worked on warming up a pot for yourself. One of the cars towards the back had side rooms available for actual privacy, and you planned on taking full advantage.

You didnt need much and using a blanket to handle the hot container, you hauled your bit of hot water through the car to the end, slipping inside. Of course Curtis noticed from where he had been helping to pack up the dried goods in blankets to easier carry them, and he turned to Edgar “Get as much packed as possible, if we have to we will come back for the rest.”

“Yea, sure... where you going?” He asked as Curtis moved away from the group, calling over his shoulder.

“Got someone to take care of” Edgar just shrugged and went back to what he was doing.

You were in the process of undressing, when a soft knock happened on the door. Squeaking in alarm, you say loudly so there was no denying that whomever heard you. “Occupied!”

“I know, Im coming in.” Curtis said as he opened the door and you withdrew from sight, looking to grab your shirt and cover yourself.

“Curtis! Im busy” In which he just arched a brow and shut the door behind him, okay lame on your part, not much was kept hidden in the tail end and youve never been super shy before with him. Your fingers played in the shirt, looking down and away from where he stood. It was thankfully darkish in the room, you felt better being somewhat hidden, not wanting that question you know was coming.

Just seeing you react, he knew. He could see it all over your face that you were dealing with a heavy mix of emotions, but the one he saw the most was shame, and he couldnt for the life of him understand why. How he wanted to go and wrap you in against him, take away all of those memories and protect you better, I should have... fuck why didnt I leave people behind. “Y/N, Baby, I know something happened. Please tell me. You were scared this morning, and youve been avoiding me. I-” he sighed and took a cautionary step closer, and could see the glimmer of tears streaking down your face. “- just got you back. I cant loose you again, especially like this.” His voice lowered, gruffer, you could tell he was trying to keep himself in check.

Standing there, trying not to let him see you, how you wish you could shrink away into the wall. You tried so hard to fight back and just werent strong enough, spit it out you scolded yourself, but you stayed silent, lifting your face to look at him and dropped your shirt. Curtis took an audible gasp at the bruising that littered your body, your pale skin dark and yellowed with discernible finger and hand prints. Covering your face in your shame. “Oh god, Im sorry Curtis, I tried to stop them.”

What?! Oh babygirl, no....He stepped forward and wrapped his hands gently around your wrists and pulled them away. “Babygirl sshhh.... Im not mad at you.” You blinked up at him with that wide eyed stare of yours and then pushed in against him, sobbing into his chest and he lowered the two of you to the floor, careful to keep you in his lap, and rocking you softly. The pain blossomed in his chest at what you were saying, the way your whole body sobbed into his, and he let you. Nothing but the soft swaying motion, like one would do for a child, and his chin rested atop your head as it was buried in against him. There were no words he could say at this moment to make it better, you had to be able to simply cry it out until you were ready to tell him what happened. But even now, he could see the bruises down your back. When I get my hands on them, all those fuckers are going to pay. Oh it wasnt an If, Curtis was all about When. He wouldnt stop till he had his hands on there throats, squeezing the last breath from there lungs.

You finally fell silent in his arms, a occasional body rocking hiccup stirring from you, but that was all you had. His hand came up to your face and gently brushed aside the hair that had gotten stuck to your face from the tears, looking down at you with a soft expression. “sorry” you hiccup out and it seems to be the only thing you can think to say.

“Babygirl, they are the ones who will be sorry.” he shifted you a bit so you werent so folded up, letting his hand rest against your knee and his thumb sweeping over it gently. “The fact they touched you will make them regret everything they have done in life. Im going to see to it personally.” You gulped a bit listening to him, the promise in his face, the rage simmering in his eyes, it was all there. You were just thankful it wasnt directed at you, cause even now it was scaring you. And in the same breath, it blossomed a warm raging happiness in your chest, spiraling in a way that made you shake slightly. They would hurt to, not just for what they did to you, but you were sure that others suffered a similar fate that day.

He leaned forward and dipped his fingers into the water, finding it still warm. “How about we clean you up Babygirl? and then go get you something to eat. I know you havent had anything today.” You slowly unfold yourself from around him and Curtis takes the rag, dipping it in the water and wringing it out. He holds his hand out for you to take it, but you turn instead your back to him, reaching behind you to gather your hair and lift it off your neck. You trusted him, you knew his touch would be gentle and caring along your bruises, and it was an intimacy you desired to share with him. Dipping your head when you felt the cloth brush over your shoulder, sure enough he was gentle as it went down your back and over your hip, continuing downwards, he squatted down to do the back of her thighs and calves. “Face me Y/N” he said, giving the softest brush of a kiss against a tender looking spot on your hip. You twisted to face him as he rose up to start from your shoulders and down again.

The riddled marks on your body, now fully seeing what you had been through destroyed a sane part of Curtis, he never wanted to kill anyone more then these men, not even Wilford for all the evilness he had done. There was just a few on your back, careful as he traced over them. You must have fallen from up high, or they took a boot to you. Having you turn for him, he make his way down in a similar fashion. The worst bruises seemed to be on your hips and inside of your thighs, and to see them in such a intimate spot. It was his spot to rest his hands whenever he held you, not anyone elses, and it hurt him that you had to bare such marks. They actually made him growl softly and he was caught by surprise when you cupped his face, running your fingers through his beard. Focus Curtis... He chided himself as he continued with your legs and then swept up the inside of your calves and thighs, this time placing a soft kiss on your belly button and back up to a stand.

This time when he offered you the rag you took it, to finish up, and you thought about what had transpired. Now Curtis had seen all of what they had done, and getting dressed again, you thought about what he had seen and his reaction. It was foolish for me to think he would be mad at me. Sometimes theres no rational reason for your reactions. He remained silent as he handed you clothing, slipping them on a piece at a time. Grasping your coat, he held it up for you and you backed into it, sliding your arms in one at a time. Before you could start to button it up, he turned you back to face him, doing the buttons himself, smiling softly. “You always have a hard time with these babygirl”

“I know, you would think after all this time I wouldnt need your help doing them up.” You chuckled softly at them, all different mismatched sizes, not quite placed right. You could patch a person up, but damned if you could sew decently.

“Well, let me tell you babygirl, Im glad you still need me to do this.” He finished up the last one, and lifted his hand up to cup your face, cradling it in both hands, his thumbs brushing along the softness of your cheeks, the soft downy hairs brushing under the pad of his thumb. Your hands folded over his wrists while looking up at him. “Y/N, nothing, certainly not this changes anything between us. So whatever you think would drive me away, its not going to happen.” He wouldnt break his eyes from yours, needing you to know just how serious he was.

“I know... I- I panicked. I felt that what happened, I should have stopped it.” You admitted, and took a deep breath, ragged from earlier, but no tears sprang forth talking about it. Curtis had been correct in you needing that release, a cleanse. Maybe now this was the beginning of coming to terms with it. Keeping his darker thoughts to himself that throbbed in his temples, as you gave a brief description of what happened, this would be a trial and error for you two, Curtis not wanting to push you in a way you werent ready, and you craving the exact same vibe you two had before. It would take time, to heal. Curtis isnt going anywhere....

Leading you out of the room, he carried the water, and you followed along behind, your hand fisting in the loose part of his jacket. You lighten considerably he noticed once you joined the group, immediately falling back into old habits of stopping and chatting with groups, looking over those you considered your patients, and falling right back into playing with the kids for the rest of the evening, you even made an effort to eat a can of beans that Curtis pried open for you, sharing with the kids you went to hang out with. There wasnt much difference in how you were as from before, and he gave you your freedom, sticking nearby with Edgar, first finishing there earlier project, then Curtis finished his tale of what had happened.

“You mean Matt is actually still alive?!” Edgar remembered the boy well, back then. Looked up to him, almost like a brother. Curtis nodded.

“Yes, and dumbass me left them tied up in the engine. Im sure they have been released now. I tried telling Y/N what hes like... hes dangerous. If he comes around her, I dont know... watch him extra close. She wouldn't forgive me if I hurt him.” A glance over to you showed you laughing while playing itsy bitsy spider with one of the smaller children, cuddling them in your lap while you twisted your fingers to go up the pole, and then sprinkle your fingers down to tickle the youngin’ on the neck.

“Curtis, maybe it wont come to something like that, Y/N is a pretty good judge of people... Im sure she will see how twisted he is.”

Curtis shrugged, he hoped so. But this was her brother, she loved this kid more then anyone else on the train, and he almost lost her then. If she gets her heart broken again, forcing her to give a damn might not be so easy. Making her choose between Matt and Himself, he didnt want to put her in that spot, maybe a bit of fear stabbing at the back of his unconscious, would she pick him if she was forced between them? “We will see probably tomorrow afternoon. I want to get us out of here and back to the front, before they decide they dont need us, and have basically the majority of the supplies once more. Were not equipped enough to survive out there and eventually were going to have to move away from the train for food. Most the cars up there are still upright and can be used for shelter.”

You looked up to see Curtis and Edgar deep in a discussion, and you untangle yourself from the kids. “Bedtime for all of us. Tomorrow were going to the front.”

“The front?!”

“For reals this time”

“wonder what its like?”

“I dont know” You shrug “We just gotta wait and see tomorrow, now off to bed.” You shooed them away to a nest of blankets they made for themselves, and wandered over to Curtis. “Im heading off to sleep, see you all in the morning.” You waved off to the group. Curtis gave you a few minutes to get yourself ready and then excused himself as well.

When he got there you were already curled under the blankets, just a soft pile of your hair showing above the blankets. He shredded out of the majority of his clothing and slipped in beside you, thinking you was already asleep, but surprising him as you flipped to her other side, starting at him in the dark.

“I love you, thank you for coming back for me.”

“I will always come back for you, I love you to babygirl.” Curtis declared, and you moved over closer and lifted his arm to go around you, your head resting on his shoulder, and your hand slid under his shirt and rubbed your hands across the all familiar soft hairs and broad muscles of his chest, settling over where you could feel that familiar thump of life. This was familiar, comforting, and relaxed into this. The past 36 hours was your hell, and this was your salvation. You actually fell asleep and this time you dreamed, not of what happened, but what was to come.

The next morning proved to be busy chaos. After taking a few moments to wake up, Curtis was never one to just roll up and go unless necessary, usually proving him to be rougher around the edges, well more so then usual with the upcoming unknown going back to the front now with the tail enders. “Get up, time to get a move on.” he rumbled, the toe of his boot nudging people as he passed through the group, Edgar grumbling and flipping him off as he to got a toe to the leg and a “Get the fuck up, we dont got all day.”

You rubbed your eyes and snorted in laughter at the grumblings you heard through the crowd, although they complied. You helped hand off sacks of food that they all packed in blankets the day before and you went to your patients, checking them over right quick. The only person you were really concerned for was Sara. If anything she looked paler then the day before. But her wound was still firey red. Biting the inside of your cheek, you smiled, and helped her up. “Dont hesitate to ask for help, I wont be far off” You stress to her till Sara gives a nod and Johanna wraps an arm around her. “Dont worry, we got her.”

Maybe it will all be okay.

The group filed out, Curtis again taking up the rear, watching for any sign of the aggressors from the day before, he had skimmed over the cliff edge, and checked out the path back up, but found no signs. Maybe the fuckers are gone.... He wistfully considered, as he trudged along behind, holding a rifle over his shoulder and in his hands a heavy axe was kept close. In any hand to hand fight, he would rather have the axe on hand instead of the rifle. You made your way back through the crowd and fell in step with him, looking over your shoulder, it seemed like the train was an endless line of cars. You all must be getting close.

“Theres so many to sort through still.” Talking about the cars, Curtis grunted in agreement, glancing down at you. “Well I wouldnt bother with any holding people, all the stuff we need is in those storage ones. Im just hoping the front end had the sense to get into the livestock cars and save anything that survived.” You blinked a bit in surprise, you never actually thought there would be any kind of livestock on the train, the front end having stopped giving the boiled eggs a few years ago.

“Like... chickens and such?”

“Chickens, pigs, some beef cows, couple of those your supposed to milk and all. Yes, had them all. Plus at least 2 cars filled with frozen butchered meat, a large green house cart. The front end didnt have our struggles, that is for damn sure.”

Fuck when was the last time you had a roasted chicken? Steak? Your mouth literally watered at the idea of it.

“No they certainly didnt.”

A few moments of silence between them, the occasional brush of shoulders as Curtis shortened his stride matching your, the change in it made you hide a smile, looking down. You were sure he didnt intend on you to notice and it just resolved in you what you already knew about him. He would always look out for you. Your shared silence was interrupted by a shout as the group started to bunch up and come to a halt. “Curtis Everett to the front, I know your leading this mess.”

Curtis then picked up his pace, you following behind him closely as he weaved through the people milling into a group and coming out in the front. You were about to follow alongside him but Edgar caught the back of your coat, keeping you back slightly and thats when you saw what was before you.

Heavily armed group of people, waiting and they parted as a man and Claude came through. The smirk on the mans face shined right into his eyes, so fucking cold, and you felt your heart sink in your stomach. It really was Matt, just as Curtis described it.

“Well we knew you would come back Curtis.” His arms folded over his chest, as he surveyed the people behind Curtis. “And brought your little rag tag mess of people.” Matt turned his attention to those that started to line up around Curtis, assessing the threat before them. “You might as well just join us everyone, there really is no better answer. You may have the numbers, but we have the supplies, and that includes the rifles.” Matt looked up and down his line of people, smug, satisfied, he won. “So you might as well give up, well before this has to turn ugly Curtis, I mean... We are in this mess cause of you after all.” Claude hung on Matts arm, but he pulled it away and took a step forward till he was standing before Curtis, who glared down at him. “So what do you say tail ender? I clearly won.”

“Matt!” You yanked your arm from Edgar and snapped up right in his face, inches away, anger rolling off you in steams. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Curtis arm shot out and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you back to him, not trusting Matt to not hurt you physically. You pulled on your arm, but Curtis grasp was iron and unrelenting. “You are our family, how DARE you even speak like that, after all we been through to get up here.”

“Yea Sister” He said with such venom in his tone, your mouth snapped shut, jaw clenching in your anger and confusion. “All we been through, you had if just fine in the tail end, but not good enough, sending your man up here to wreck it all, correct?”

That was the last line when Curtis fist connected with Matts face, his head snapping back sharply.

Curtis could tolerate alot of things, your brother disrespecting you clearly wasnt one of them.

Fuck it all.

@curtisbbq @what-is-your-plan-today @jtargaryen18 @p8tn0lish @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @official-and-unstable-satan @thatweirdwalangpake

#curtis everett x y/n #trauma #snowpiercer #what the fuck they gonna do now?#chris evans beard #chris evans #curtis everett

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forestfanders · 4 years

Text

Birds of a feather - pt 4 What You Gotta Do

A long list of injuries on the page, and a longer list of potential responses to their trauma. Working out how to treat the pair of tiny humanoid avians was going to be a challenge, but it is one Logan and Patton are determined to meet.

Pt 4: Caring for abused individuals is not easy, and there are somethings that are hard but necessary. You gotta do what you gotta do.

whump, hurt/comfort and dehumanisation <3 wingfic, g/t kind of

tw: animal abuse, mention of burns and neglect, dissociation, panic attacks, medical hurt

AO3 link

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / you are here/ Chapter 5 masterlist

Anxiety was huddled at the back, but Princy was next to the water bowl.

“Good morning kiddos.” Patton smiled in.

Princey gave a little wave, and Patton beamed. Anxiety uncurled a little bit too, and after a moment's hesitation, gave a little wave of his own. Patton’s smile increased in intensity.

“Waves from everyone!” He exclaimed softly, “Today really is special!”

Anxiety gave a shy smile that he tried to cover by fluffing himself up into a shadow-shaded fuzzball. Adorable.

Patton dipped his fingers into his pocket and drew out two blueberries. “Here, I am going to roll these in as a special treat ok?”

Princey actually took a step forward in interest as the fruit rolled towards him. He wrapped both of his tiny hands around the blueberry and held it out towards Patton, much like he had done with the chicken cube the previous day.

“It’s a blueberry. It’s for you.” Patton reassured. Roman nodded to himself and took a bite, and his expression widened with happy surprise. Patton chuckled, “Blueberries are very sweet, so they are only as treats.” He rolled a second one to Anxiety. “And that’s for you.”

Anxiety regarded the fruit, and Princey’s joyful reception of it, before unfluffing himself and shuffling a few paces forwards. Carefully, he picked it up with his foot, before swiftly transferring it to his hands, his eyes never leaving Patton. Patton smiled and gave a nod of approval. It was progress.

Princey was getting covered in blueberry juice, and finished off the fruit faster than Patton thought was avianly possible. Anxiety tucked his beneath his wing, presumably to eat once Patton was gone.

Logan quietly entered the room, his vet’s bag tucked beneath his arm.

“Good morning everyone.” He greeted, “How are we all?”

Princey bopped in place, licking the juice from his hands, and gave a thumbs up. Logan gave him an amused smile.

“They both waved hello to me this morning, so I gave them each a blueberry as a treat.” Patton said proudly.

“That is… very good to hear.” Logan said carefully. Patton nodded, partially in agreement, and partially to reward Logan’s thoughtful word choice.

Logan set down his bag on the rubber topped examination bench in the corner of the room.

Patton looked back at the avians. They were so confident this morning. Clearly decent food and a good night's sleep had done them wonders.

It made what Patton was about to do feel even worse.

“Hey Logan, maybe I can give them their breakfast now if you want to check on all the other animals first?”

Logan regarded him a long moment before nodding and handing him the keys to the padlock on the avian’s cage. Patton smiled, and scampered off to retrieve some fresh food for the avians. He and Logan had put together a meal plan of suitable nutrition for the recovering avians, and with the wide variety of foods they could eat, it had been easy for Patton to pack a lunchbox of suitable foodstuffs. By the time he returned to the recovery room, Logan had fed and checked on several of the recovery room’s residents, and had Ted Bunndy up on the examination bench.

“How’s Ted?” Patton picked a rolled oat out of the avian’s breakfast bowl and held it up, “Back to being our little cereal killer?”

“The high carbohydrate content of cereals make them unsuitable for consumption by rabbits in all but the smallest quantities.” Logan replied dryly as he palpated the bunny’s tummy. Patton laughed, and turned to the avian’s cage. The pair had retreated to the back of the cage, but did not seem overly nervous, especially compared to the previous day. He set the bowl atop the cage, and fished the keys from his pocket.

“Ok kiddos. I am going to open the door and give you some breakfast, ok? I will only touch the bowl.”

The pair did not respond. Anxiety had a white knuckled grip on Princey’s arm, who himself was regarding him warily. Patton flicked off the padlock, and picked up the bowl before sliding back the bolt.

“Here we go kiddos, just a moment.” Patton swiftly switched out the old bowl for the new. The avains did not move until the door was closed and padlocked again.

“Good boys. Good job. You can eat now.” Patton praised. Princey gave him a tiny stressed smile. Anxiety looked like he had slid sideways into a dissociation episode.

Logan had put Ted and his companion in carry cases.

“Going off the fact Ted Bunndy nearly took my hand off when I offered him some spinach, I would say his appetite has returned and he is ready to go home.”

“Let’s go put them in the rabbit room now then.” Patton said.

“We can do it after…” Logan started.

“Now.” Patton cut him off.

Logan’s gaze flicked towards the avains and he nodded once before picking up a rabbit carrier and holding it to his chest for stability. Patton picked up the other, and they excited the room quietly.

“We cannot put this off any longer Patton.” Logan muttered.

"It’s just, they were so confident and I don’t want to lose that yet. They are not going to be happy about this," Patton sighed.

"If we leave their bandages unchanged, there is a high risk of infection. Therefore, it is necessary." Logan's tone was final. The vet was right of course, but Patton couldn’t help but worry about the stress that being touched would bring to the already traumatised and injured pair.

"I know" Patton sighed, “Just, we will explain to them what's happening and why it will help right?”

“Ok,” Logan hesitated, “That is likely to help... Avian humanoids are sentient and most are able to understand their owner’s language to a high level but…” Logan stared at the floor for a second too long before continuing, “But vets have no training on how to talk to their patients. I fear my attempts to communicate shall be...inadequate.”

“Oh, I believe in you buddy” Patton gave him a hopeful look, “Do you want a formula to help?”

A prescribed mode of speech always helped Logan, even if he was loathe to admit it. But his heart-smart friend could guide him where his book-smarts ended.

“Yes please.”

“Ok , sooo...What you are doing, why you are doing it, and how much it will hurt.” Patton gave his soft smile that Logan knew was never patronising, “Example. I am taking the bandage off, to see your injury, and it will only hurt a little. Got it?”

“I believe so.” Logan deposited Ted Bunndey into a vacant hutch in the small animal room. Patton gave a tight smile.

“Alright. Let’s go wrangle some bird men.”

-88888-

Patton looked more calm than he felt. Although he knew changing bandages were medically necessary, he really didn’t want the avians to, well, hate him. Still, it was better that he did it rather than one of the vets that the avians neither knew nor trusted.

Patton knelt on the vinyl floor in front of the cage.

“Ok kiddos, Logan and I are here to give you both a check up.”

Princey’s eyes widened in fear, and he gripped onto Anxiety, who had started to shake.

“So, um, we are just going to pick you up, take the bandages off, have a quick look at your injuries,” Patton swallowed hard. Logan glanced sideways at him, is expression neutral in the way it always was when relieved that someone else was handling social situations. The vet turned to start setting up bandages on the examination bench in the recovery room.

“Then we will put a little antiseptic on, which will sting but is super important. It will stop your burns from getting icky and infected. Then we will bandage you back up, nice and clean, give you a delicious piece of tuna as well done, and leave you two alone til lunch. Ok?” He quietly put on a pair of latex gloves that Logan handed him. “Ok, I am going to open the door.”

The avians scattered.

Patton shoved down his own rising empathetic panic as Logan ordered him shut the door again before they had the chance to escape the cage. His mouth a slash, the vet retrieved a towel, and threw it over the pair.

After a moment, the panicked skittering slowed to sluggish lumps in the fabric.

“The dark will help calm them a little. We can take one now.” Logan reached slowly under the blanket till he came in contact with a docile bird and pulled it out. As soon as the light hit him, little Anxiety thrashed in his hold, taloned feet kicking as he let out a single short shriek.

“Hey hey hey it’s alright,” Patton cooed, just as Logan reassured the avain with a calm,

“It’s ok, I got you,” And rose smoothly to his feet and walked to the examination bench. Patton settled nervously opposite him.

Logan held Anxiety to his chest for a moment till he judged the struggling had subsided enough to set his feet down on the table, then carefully transferred the avain to Patton’s waiting hands. He held him, fingers pinning the tiny arms to his sides. The birdman shuffled backwards away from the vet, until he hit the solid wall of Patton’s chest, where he could go no further.

"Hey there little guy," Patton crooned.

His toes scrunched into the towel Logan had covered the bench with, while the rest of the bird was still aside from a slight shaking.

“Good job.” Logan congratulated, “I am going to put this,” he held up a thin digital thermometer, “on your back against your wing joint. It will let me know if you are getting a fever. It will not hurt.”

Anxiety squirmed for a second at the cold metal on his back, then settled in Patton’s grip.

“Very calm, very good.” Patton crooned. They waited patiently until the thermometer beeped, causing Anxiety to lurch out of his dissociation.

“That’s it.” Logan gave a practised reassuring smile, as he slid the device out of the hollow of Anxiety’s wing. He checked it swiftly, and turned it off.

“I am going to remove your bandages now. I am going to start by loosening bandage adhesive with some of this,” He held up a bottle, and dipped a cotton bud into it, before bringing it slowly towards Anxiety. “It smells a bit strange, but it won't hurt at all.”

Patton nodded in approval at Logan's communication.

The avian jammed his face into Patton's t-shirt as a whiff of the chemical drifted up.

Logan was not deterred by the action, and started to dab at the steri-strips holding the gauze in place. After a second, he was able to peel off the old bandage.

Anxiety tried to bury himself further in the t-shirt. Logan’s long fingers aided him, pulling at Patton’s shirt till the material pooled a comforting piece of shadow around Anxiety. Patton took a steadying breath.

“You are doing really well kiddo,” Patton murmured to the shaking ball of feathers.

Logan scrutinised the avian’s ruined chest for a long moment, his face impassive.

“I am going to spray your chest with some antiseptic. This will prevent infection. It will sting slightly. Now.” Logan directed the spray bottle towards the top of the avian's chest. The bird man hissed at the sting. “And again,” Logan gave him a second spray. Anxiety sagged a bit in Patton's hands, quivering. His heart beat frantically against Patton’s fingers.

“I think he is having a panic attack.” Patton informed the vet.

“We are nearly done. Just focus on breathing for me.” Logan reached for fresh bandages. “Just going to put the bandage back. It won't hurt.” His practiced fingers pinned the pre-prepared gauze to the tiny heaving chest and secured it with extra strength steri-strips.

“So good, so good,” Patton reassured.

“Ok, that's you done now,” Logan stated, “Patton, you can put him back in his cage.”

Patton adjusted his grip to lift Anxiety carefully from the table. The avian flopped bonelessly, completely lax in his hold.

“Is he ok?” Patton asked in a small voice.

“Mostly likely overwhelmed. Put him down next to the towel hollow.”

Patton carefully lowered the birdman to the floor and tried to set him on his feet, but Anxiety’s legs buckled beneath him. He laid him gently on his side instead, and withdrew his hand.

After barely a moment, Anxiety was back on his feet and beelining to bury himself beneath the towel.

Patton gave a sigh of relief, and Logan put a hand on his shoulder. He plopped the piece of tuna down where Anxiety had been moments before. It felt like poor compensation.

“It is quite scary, but hopefully now we have shown him it doesn’t hurt, he will be calmer next time. Now we just need to get Princey.”

Well, one down, one to go. And Princey seemed the more confident of the two, he should have been easier to deal with.

Patton was wrong.

Princey did not want to be scooped out of the towel. Princey wanted to scream the whole time. And boy, for such a small creature, he sure had a set of lungs on him. The frightened wordless babble was the first vocalization Patton had heard Princey make. It should have been a milestone in his recovery. It wasn’t. Patton felt sick. He knew the care of the traumatised twosome wasn’t going to be all sunshine and rainbows, but the tiny avian’s cries were heartbreaking.

Logan moved confidently, spoke reassuringly, did everything right. They managed to manoeuvre him against Patton's chest, and Logan brought out the adhesive loosener, moistening a cotton bud and bringing it to the bandages.

Princey shifted his weight the tiniest bit, one foot shooting out to bat at the stick, before being almost delicately lowered again. “Ok ok ok,” Patton chanted like a prayer. “It’ll be over soon, then you can go home, and get some yummy tuna, it's even better than chicken, I promise, just please…”

Princey stopped screaming, let go of the cotton bud, and allowed Logan to remove the bandages.

“Good boy. You definitely deserve some treats Princey. So brave. Good boy.”

He squeaked and writhed when Logan sprayed him, but quickly settled and allowed Logan to put a fresh bandage on, with the generous application of praises and promises of food.

“All done. Home time, and then reward.”

Princey allowed Patton to lift him and place him back in the cage. He sat patiently till Logan handed him a small block of tuna meat and the little bird tucked into it immediately with a happy squeak. He paid no heed to Logan shutting and locking the cage door.

At the sound of the door locking, the Anxious lump moved in the blankets. Patton didn’t stare too long to see his beady eyes watching Princey, fearful for his companion's safety.

“We will see you later. For lunch. I-I’m… Just, have a restful morning kiddos.” Patton tried to smile. He grabbed Logan’s hand and fled the room.

“Great…” Patton tried to keep the tremor out of his voice. “That could have gone worse. Could have gone worse.” He pulled his gloves off in disgust, and kept his gaze fixed on the floor. “I am going to go prepare for my clients now. See you later Logan.”

Logan caught his arm before he could turn.

“Can I hug you?” Logan requested. When Patton didn’t protest, he pulled him close, and Patton curled down into him. Logan ran his fingers through Patton’s hair, stroking gently. He didn’t cry, but it was a close thing.

“It was essential that we did that. Even if it was...harrowing to see their reactions. Bandage changes will reduce the chances of life-threatening infections. We prioritised physical health and did everything we could to protect their mental health.” Logan’s voice was ever so soft, and Patton could tell that he too was empathetic to the avian’s predicament, “But, knowing that it is necessary does not make causing distress easy.”

“You did great Logan. Your communication was perfect.” Patton whispered into Logan’s hair. Logan hummed, and some of the tension released from his shoulders too.

“It looks like Princey is either food motivated, praise motivated, or both.” He said with a hint of humour to his voice. “Let us hope that he likes tuna enough for it to sooth his medical anxiety.”

They stood quietly together for a moment, unwinding from the pressure of carrying futures in their hands.

"Get a room guys. It's to early for pda in the office."

Logan dropped his arms and his back went ramrod straight.

"Aww Remy don't be like that. Platonic touch is important and should be normalised more!"

“Whatever babes, just don’t stand between me and my coffee.” The other vet squeezed past them to the vet’s office.

Patton looked at Logan and smiled, truly this time.

“We are doing a good job. An important job”

“We are indeed.”

next chapter masterlist

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #sanders whump #whump #wingfic #forest writes #BofaF #tw animal cruelty #tw food #tw neglect #tw animal abuse #h/c #g/t

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unwiltingblossom · 4 years

Text

Queen’s Favor (Mysme Jumin/MC AU 9/?)

Summary: Being a maid would be much easier if the cat would just let her do her job.

AU - Instead of joining the RFA via random text, MC is hired on as one of the maids assigned to Jumin Han’s penthouse. Nothing else about the setting has changed, the messenger and the RFA still exist, only the MC’s position has been altered.

It'd gotten to the point where she'd opened the bag and just...looked directly inside it. Just one step shy of trying to stick her head and body in there, as if she could go on a purse-adventure to find her wallet.

The GPS worked.

See. She might have gotten hotheaded and chased after a stranger in the middle of the night all the way until she got the lost in some shady district, but nothing actually bad happened. Except she lost some time to have dinner and relax.

But that was fine, because it was her weekend anyway. She had all day to sleep in and do other things!

Like get that haircut. And maybe shop for mattresses. A little.

But not apartment shop. She wasn't making enough to have saved up for that yet. There wasn't that many places in her range to move into in the city, in the first place, which is part of the reason she ended up in the closet-apartment she now lived. Given the short time since moving there, she couldn't really expect that to change radically when her price range...really wasn't that different. Yet.

When she'd looked up the location that she'd ended up in last night, all she'd been able to find out about it was that it had been built ten years back and was residential. She hadn't found any advertisements renting the apartments in it, which was strange, given that it sure didn't look full.

Well. Maybe some business mogul bought the place thinking they could turn it into some kind of office-space, then went under because they had no idea what they were doing?

Regardless, aside from a few comments from others who had asked questions about the building and gotten nothing of substance in return, there wasn't much about the place on the internet. Maybe that jerk who'd run into her was actually the person who owned the place. It's that, or he really was a drug dealer.

Hey, maybe he split the difference. Gotta pay for an apartment complex you don't rent out somehow, right?

She frowned, rustling through her purse. She obviously traveled without it most of the time when she was working, as there really wasn't a reason to weigh herself down with something she might forget somewhere (or the cat would get into), but still...she was sure she'd put her wallet in the purse when she'd gotten home.

Where is it...?

She wasn't about to stand there rustling through the purse, digging through her stuff to find her money after she needed to pay something. She'd do it now. When no one was staring expectantly at her and she didn't feel judged. Obviously. Like any upstanding not-broke citizen who felt vaguely judged every time she went into work by the sheer gulf between herself and her employer's wealth levels.

Which was a good choice, because it'd gotten to the point where she'd opened the bag and just...looked directly inside it. Just one step shy of trying to stick her head and body in there, as if she could go on a purse-adventure to find her wallet. Her hand failed to find it, so maybe if she just looked...

"Hey, look out-!"

She did, but only in time to see a black-and-white blur slam into her.

Ah, so that's how it felt to be tackled to the ground. But worse, because she'd only tackled the intruder to wooden floors, not cement. That hardly seemed fair, considering she didn't do anything to deserve it, unlike the one who got slammed to the floor.

She didn't complain, though, as her attention was arrested pretty completely by the literal truck that zoomed right by where she'd been standing before something else - someone else - slammed into her and knocked her out of the way. Along with her purse, which was knocked completely off of her arm by the impact of the ground, and slid a foot or two away from her on the sidewalk.

Hey, was that her walle-nope, just her phone.

"Are you alright?"

The ground, the truck, and then her purse all took their turns with her attention, she supposed it was only reasonable the person who saved her life would eventually expect to it, too. Once the shock and potential trauma passed, anyway.

She blinked a few times, but the person above her neither disappeared, nor melted like a midday mirage caused by standing in the sun. The beautiful face just inches away from hers remained. And didn't get any less pretty even when she focused on it. Smooth, flawless skin she could scream in jealousy over, platinum hair that fell in an artful curtain around both of their faces despite being tied back, and surprisingly pretty red eyes.

Ah, yes.

She still hadn't spoken. Just gawked.

Nice.

"U-uh." Granted, she'd gotten used to seeing attractive men in person, compared to maybe a year before. But this was an exceptionally pretty man, exceptionally close to her face. That, and she'd just been slammed into the ground and narrowly avoided death.

Actually, that's what she's going with. Near death avoidance. Really robs someone of their speech.

He spoke again, and by some totally unfair twist, he sounded as attractive as he looked. "Are you okay? You didn't hit your head or anything?"

Despite herself, she lifted a hand from where it'd splayed out on the ground and waved it vaguely in the air. "Oh, no, no. I quit concussions cold turkey last month." Mmm, nope. She knew the reference and even for her...that just wasn't clever. She'd chalk that up to near death, too. She'd go down fighting and die with dignity before she admitted to social awkwardness just because someone pretty happened to be up in her face.

Unfortunately, she couldn't take back what was already said.

He squinted down at her a moment, one side of his mouth quirking up into a smile that was frankly more amused than her comment deserved. "...I feel even more concerned for you now than I did before."

"...You know what, I really can't blame you. It was pretty bad by my standards, and I fully blame the near-miss of that truck."

His expression remained amused - and seemed rather like he was holding back saying something else. Mercifully, probably. Eventually, he pushed himself up and away, shifting instead to kneel over her, rather than stay like some kind of cliche accidental romance moment. A hand reached out to help her up, and she really couldn't help but notice how the sun caught in his silver hair, how his features looked perfectly chiseled like from someone's personal design of perfection, and how ridiculous it was to have someone as pretty as him randomly wandering the street.

For one reason or another, it felt stranger just to see someone so attractive on the street around the peasants like her than to see them rubbing elbows with the ludicrously rich. Well, that and he had the feel of some kind of a star. Maybe that was pretty-bias, though.

After a moment or two of perfectly discreet gawking, she did ultimately take the offered hand, at least upgrading from 'sprawled on the sidewalk' to 'sitting on the sidewalk'.

"If I could offer a bit of advice, I'd quit standing in the middle of busy streets cold turkey, too." The man gave a wink, and for a moment she considered punching herself in the face just to give an excuse for the way her cheeks felt hot immediately after. At this point, she really doubted even that could make her look any worse to this random stranger anyway. "Even though I'm a hero, I can't promise I'll always be nearby to rescue you if you do."

"Are you sure? You've got the face to make a career out of it." ...Ah, yes. Well, eventually she just had to say something about his looks. They were just...there. Right up in her face and startlingly pretty.

He even wore a bashful smile in a way she could almost believe was sincere. "It's never sounded so appealing as when a natural born princess suggested it."

"Hm, I've never heard of a princess that has to hire her own hero. Can't say I can afford the paycheck, but I'll give you a five star review for my free trial."

He winked again, and she was pretty sure that someone ought to classify that as a deadly weapon. "For such a fair maiden, I'd do it for free."

...Honestly.

If she was going to flirt with a startlingly handsome stranger she met on the street, the least she could have done for herself was not make it so lame. This was what happened when the majority of her social interaction for an entire season was with a cat and its bizarre owner.

"I...uh. You think we can still chalk up my poor social skills to the near death experience?" She wrinkled her nose. "I don't want to think about the alternative."

His response was, apparently, to just flex on her by standing up and pulling her to her feet with one hand. Of course he was handsome, charismatic and fit. Why not go for the triple threat? The man apparently just waltzed right off of the nearest movie screen before rescuing her from the most embarrassing death she could have come up with outside of the penthouse. It'd be weirder at this point if he weren't also buff.

"Don't be so hard on yourself." He grinned. It sparkled, and she almost rolled her eyes. "I, for one, am thoroughly charmed."

Alright. He could keep being unreasonably good at everything as long as he also kept flattering her. Seemed reasonable to her.

"Smooth." A little scoff she liked to think wasn't vulgar compared to the person in front of her escaped her throat, and she turned to gather up her purse before anyone else could trample her things. Surprisingly, once she was done, the man still stood in place, watching her with that vaguely amused expression he'd had the whole time. She could almost buy he was actually charmed by her if he weren't a dolled up model on a movie poster jumped off the wall and come to life.

"If you're worried about me running back out into traffic again or something, you don't have to. There's a cat that would come and kill me if I got myself killed."'

For just a moment, he looked absolutely horrified. And then he went into a sneezing fit. Never before had she seen dignity and grace evaporate so quickly and thoroughly. The silver figure of a beautiful adonis quickly turned into a man nearly sneezing off of his feet, with tears and snot and...why?

"A-are you okay?!"

"No-I...I'm just...!" He sniffled, expression transformed to something petulant and miserable as he withdrew a handkerchief to clean up his face. "I'm very allergic! Just talking about cats makes me sneeze!"

"That's..."

That is not a thing.

"That is not how allergies work."

He huffed, pursing his lips, and pocketed his handkerchief. "It's true."

She was sure it wasn't.

Still, she couldn't help a small smile anyway, awkward as it may have been. "I guess it might be hard to be your princess then. It'd be embarrassing to have you keel over when you showed up to rescue me."

He dabbed at his eye with one knuckle, so delicate. "Every hero faces his own dangers."

"You're really dedicated to the hero and princess thing, huh? Even ca-..." The pitiful look on his face was enough to make her correct herself. "Even your mortal enemy can't stop you, huh?"

This time, his smile was self depreciating. "Beggars can't be choosers. A hero without a princess is just a lonely guy."

...She wouldn't lie, it was at least half as much because he was so handsome as because he was amusingly charming and saved her life, but...eh. She shrugged. "If you put it that way...I could go for the company of a hero prince for lunch."

He chuckled and brushed hair out of his face...that instantly fell artfully right back into his face. "Well, now I just feel like I'm committing extortion..."

"Consider it a princess' favo-"

Wait.

"Dammit, my wallet!"

#mysme #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fic #mysme fic #mysme zen #jumin x mc #fic #ooc

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surveysonfleek · 4 years

Text

1548.

Zodiac Bingo

Aries Gotta go fast Independence Participant, always Fuck you, don’t tell me what do to *brooding intensifies* Good sense of humor I ain’t neva scared “I’m not competitive but I’m gonna win” Assertive Going first Running yellow lights

People are drawn to you even tho you don’t invite them Feelings = action Impulsivity Creative Leader Competent “I thought you didn’t like me”-everyone Accidentally hurting people’s feelings Shares everything with partner What if the pope blasted cigs? Starting shit you don’t feel like finishing “I guess that was rude” No. 9/24

Taurus Treat yo’self Underappreciated at work Loyalty Great tastes in art&culture Spoiled (or wishing you were) Robe appreciation A vice (alcohol, weed, or comfort food) Homemaking/nesting Continuing to do something you don’t love just because you’re resistant to change Affection via touch Easy going Perfecting a wardrobe that is both comfy and flawless Having good ass eyebrows Highkey sensitive Stubborn af Not even taking your *own* advice Gossiping Lady in the street but a freak in the bed Creativity Spooning Commitment Stressing out over a change in someone’s tone of voice Finishing what you started Lots of venting lol 9/24

Gemini Unpopular opinion factory Secret&diverse intellectual landscape “Oh I got really into *miscellaneous hobby or topic* for a while” Intellectualizing or ignoring feelings Cleaning maybe once a year Look, a distraction! Thinking faster than you can talk Restless without hobbies Talking faster than you can think Reading four books at once Tons of energy Teaching others what you know Trivia machine Moodiness Knowing everything but also forgetting everything Existential crisis “Sorry I forgot to text you back” So many interests so little time Accidentally talking too loud Young at heart Pretty good public speaker Endless scrolling Shitposting Unpredictable sleep schedule 5/24

Cancer Connecting with women “Guess I’ll have to love you with my whole heart and soul” Vegetarianism/veganism Fear of rejection Surrounding yourself with soft blankets and mood lighting Ferocious protector “I’m not going to dwell on it” *dwells on it* Takes child-rearing seriously Hardshell protecting soft ego Feeding sad friends Forecast: mood swings Heart of gold but still a badass Bad with boundaries Learning how to relax like it’s your job Lightweight drinker Yeah. Crying, ok? It’s not a big deal Mama trauma Food = comfort Nostalgia as a coping mechanism Identify built off memories Complaining Very emotionally intuitive of others Big fan of physical and emotional affection People telling you all their BS all the time 9/24

Leo Friendly Self-indulgence Never being able to tell if you’re the best or the worst People trying to compete with you lol Sensitive Decent at cheering people up Great hair Wardrobe swings between hot as hell and lazy af Interrupting Having a sense of honor Not doing something because you’re not good at it Talking too loud Finding dogs pretty relatable Creative talent Super supportive friend Enthusiasm Socializing like it’s your job&then needing to recharge Memes Priorities: eating and sleeping Boo hiss at rejection Looking good even when you feel like shit Drama Needing lots of love Loyal 9/24

Virgo Relating to Hermione Granger Gives great advice even when your own life is in shambles Flirting and running, an autobiography Petty Pretty damn intelligent Loving words/linguistics 8 hours of “studying” = 1 hour of real work Swings between clean and slobbish Indecision Splurging on food Mom friend A freak on the DL Peculiar eating habits Pretty good with words Good with pets and/or kids Known to schedule sex Multitasking af Cleaning as a coping mechanism “It me” Loves self-care but deprioritizes it 0 to hottie in 2 seconds flat Lowkey wood nymph All the receipts Bratty sub or service top 10/24

Libra If you can’t say something nice don’t say anything at all Pls no fighting Good judge of character Leadership roles in friendships Takes up less emotional space for the well being of others Art adoration Real glo up wizards Nature adoration Hates boredom Wholesome Keep it cute Emotionally braced for betrayal Lowkey running from problems with people Falling in love with people’s hearts/minds Investing in your appearance Loves all things cute Always the mediator Trust issues Charming Staying up to date on culture Taking the high road Always putting your feelings aside for others Aesthetics Mom friend 6/24

Scorpio Growing up early Being a new person every few years Black/dark wardrobe Pain is cool Interest in psychology/criminology/sociology Privacy Sexual but not promiscuous All or nothing thinking Intelligent Loner/lonely Taking care of everyone Would kill or die for loved ones Protective as fuck Bloodhound for truth Deep Fascination with death/insanity/occultism Love-hate relationships “idk I’m just feeling numb rn” Jealous or possessive Trust issues Loyal as fuck Secretly soft Gets shit done Boundaries 6/24

Sagittarius Long ass bucket list Prefers to mind their own business Unbothered Nice enough that people always think you’re hitting on them Fear of missing out Optimism Honest and upfront Your shit is lowkey not together Plenty of friends Snobby enough to have good taste Flirting your way into something you can’t finish Storyteller or philosophical preacher “Here for a good time, not a long time” “…rude” Free spirit “Films” Distracted Smarter than you look I’m just speaking my truth! “I’m just inviting a few people” Falls in love with your mind, then your body Blows up the aux cord Hedonism phases Horniness gets you into some shit lol 11/24

Capricorn On your grind Discipline dgaf attitude Stoic in the streets, softie in the sheets Planning ahead, way ahead Always prepared (Un)healthy coping mechanisms Likes structure Prioritizing self-mastery Loyal protector of friends, babies, and animals Basically born an adult Dark humor People being mad about your tough love Old soul Major procrastinator Kind of a know-it-all on the DL Major sadness and madness People thanking you for your tough love People think you’re responsible “Why was I programmed to feel pain” meme Parenting your parents “Lock that in the trauma vault” Either a loner or a socialite Giving advice like it’s your job 5/24

Aquarius Me, an intellectual: Needing to do things your way Superiority complex Gossip Conspiracy theories Skepticism Not even having the energy to tell people how wrong they are Courteous/considerate People love you but you hate people Lonely Outsider syndrome Relating to cats a great deal Hates being told what to do or when to do it Not trusting someone/something that’s popular Being accused of being emotionless Insightful Feeling like the only rational person in a room Existential crisis Devil’s advocate just to get people to think Rationalizing tf out of your feelings Hates small talk Vices You’re entitled to your opinion no matter how wrong it is Interest in sociology, psychology, and politics 10/24

Pisces Empath Dramatic Poetry or music Lots of imagination, fluctuating identity Getting high on being outside (and maybe weed) Alone time “Idk I’m just a lil sad rn idk” Spiritual af Helping people heal Existential dread Pets love you Mommy issues Good with kids Cathartic crying over art, movies, or nature Knowing how people feel before they do Feeling misunderstood/alone “Go with the flow” Encountering spirits On life: “I’m just here for the ride” Drugs Forgiving others but blaming yourself Kindness Sorry, I was dissociating Exploring nature 3/24

I am most like a: Sagittarius

I am actually a: Sagittarius (I actually don’t really believe in starsigns but here you go lol)

#survey #surveys #quiz #bored #questions

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nitewrighter · 5 years

Note

Mccree seeing Hanzo in his summer skin?

Whoops this turned out really long. I want you all to know I had “Moving in Stereo” by the Cars playing on repeat when I wrote the “Hanzo emerging from the water” scene.

—

“Sorry it’s taking so long…Angela’s better at this than me,” said Genji, having to raise his voice slightly over the buzz of the razor.

Hanzo’s neck hurt a little from tilting his head for so long. “Because letting Angela go at my head with a razor is a wonderful idea.”

“It is, because she’s a surgeon, and she touches up my hair all the time,” said Genji, there was a smile in his voice, “You’re not… afraid of her, are you?”

“Afrai–” Hanzo huffed, “I’m just able to pick up that she’s clearly uncomfortable around me and protective of you,” his voice dropped slightly, “And you can hardly blame her for that.”

“The worst she would do is shave a dick into the side of your head,” said Genji, pushing hair off of the back of Hanzo’s neck. Hanzo shot him a glare from the corner of his eye that he could manage to see Genji in. “Which…” Genji added, “Obviously, she wouldn’t do.”

“You would do that,” muttered Hanzo.

“Which is why I’m amazed you asked me to help out with this,” said Genji, that smile still in his voice as he continued to shave the back of Hanzo’s head.

“How is this so easy for you?” the words fell out of Hanzo and Genji paused, the tickle of the razor and the sound of its buzz against Hanzo’s scalp ceasing.

“What do you mean?” asked Genji.

“You can just say, ‘Let’s go to the beach!’ as if we don’t have decades of trauma and centuries of our family’s crimes to deal with,” said Hanzo.

“You’re finally off probation,” said Genji, “I thought you’d want to celebrate.”

“Yes, let’s celebrate your friends no longer pointing their weapons in my direction if I so much as sneeze suspiciously,” muttered Hanzo.

“Talon did ask you to join them 3 times–and you did have that whole thing with-”

“Baptiste defected,” Hanzo cut him off, “And I don’t know how many more times I have to tell you that was years ago.”

“You know it isn’t personal on their end,” said Genji.

“Except for the part where they all mostly know me as the man who nearly killed you,” said Hanzo.

“It’s gotten better,” Genji set the razor aside and put his prosthetic hand on Hanzo’s shoulder in a comforting gesture, but the reminder that that arm was prosthetic just made Hanzo’s guts tie up in knots more, “And it’s going to keep getting better. You know what I think?”

Hanzo’s shoulder’s slumped and he rolled his eyes, “What do you think, Genji?”

“I think you’re just getting anxious because this is a chance to see my teammates when they’re not on duty. This is a chance to let people get to know you outside of your skills on a mission–and you should have a life outside of missions–outside of…” Genji gestured between them, “Outside of trying to rebuild our family. When was the last time you were able to just… be with people? In a group?”

A long silence passed and Hanzo furrowed his brow.

“You know you left the entire right side of my head unshaved,” was all Hanzo responded with.

Genji just shrugged and turned the razor back on.

——

The Rock of Gibraltar loomed over the beach. McCree never really thought of their watchpoint as ‘looming,’ but looking at it now, he could definitely understood why locals kept their distance from it. You couldn’t even see the Watchpoint from their angle, but the knowledge of who was living up there, what kind of trouble they could bring to civilians in the area, was enough to make McCree’s stomach tense up slightly as he looked around the beach. Still, it felt freeing to feel the water rush up around his ankles with each wave. Overwatch duties could wait for now. Everyone needed a break eventually, even rogue vigilante peacekeeping organizations, he supposed.

It was a hot, crowded day, and a handful of Overwatch members were taking advantage of the crowds at the beach to slip in and try and snag a few hours of relaxation for themselves. A good amount of them were either off-watchpoint on missions (Like Pharah and Zenyatta) or looking after their own careers (like Lúcio and D.Va). And of course Jack was probably obsessing over Reaper’s next step, as usual. McCree itched for a cigar, or even a cigarette, but he was at least not enough of an asshole to subject crowds like this to secondhand. If he was, Mercy would probably knock it right out of his mouth anyways.

“Ahh,” Mercy stretched her arms high above her head, her seersucker swimsuit cover-up ruffling in the ocean breeze, “I can’t remember the last time I was able to get out like this!”

McCree shuffled behind her, sand finding its way between foot and flip-flop, tilting the brim of his hat back with his thumb. “It’s good to see you gettin’ some sun, Doc,” he said, looking out at the water.

“I could say the same for you,” said Mercy, “Finally off those ‘probationary agent’ duties. I still think it wasn’t fair of Jack to saddle you with all that—”

“They weren’t all bad,” said McCree with a shrug, “He’s–” McCree nearly said, ‘He’s not all bad’ but caught himself. Mercy was still probably the toughest nut to crack with regards to Hanzo’s presence on the Watchpoint.

“Finally settling in,” Mercy said crisply, “He’s finally settling in.”

One corner of McCree’s mouth tugged up in a smirk.

“I know he grew on you,” said Mercy, adjusting the brim of her own wide hat, “You don’t need to act like he didn’t for my sake.”

“He didn’t–I mean, I just figured it was too much energy to keep being as pissed with him as I was—”

“Jesse,” Mercy’s shoulder’s slumped in that almost motherly conciliatory way of hers.

“He’s really…” McCree started and then itched at the brim of his hat, not really sure how to finish that sentence. He shook his head, deciding to take the focus of the conversation off of himself. “You think he’ll ever grow on you?” McCree tilted his head and Mercy followed McCree’s gaze out over the sparkling waters.

“I don’t know,” Mercy admitted, “A part of me wants to trust him, for Genji’s sake, but so much of me just… can’t.”

“For Genji’s sake,” said McCree.

“Yes,” Mercy tucked a bit of hair back from her face.

“Heeeeeyyy!” a familiar voice yelled across the beach and both Mercy and McCree glanced over in the direction of its source to Brigitte and Torbjörn a couple dozen yards away, sitting on a few beach towels with an umbrella and cooler nearby. Torbjörn was busying himself with rubbing on another layer of sunscreen, but Brigitte was waving her arms above her head, signaling them to come over. Mercy and McCree exchanged glances, then picked up their pace to close the distance between them.

“Angela!” Brigitte’s voice was bright, “You’re out of the lab!”

“I should probably be concerned with how surprised people act when that happens, shouldn’t I?” said Mercy, smiling a little.

“Probably,” said Brigitte, opening the cooler and handing them each a packet, “Here. Take these quick. We miscalculated on the cooler’s insulation so they’re melting.”

“I didn’t miscalculate anything!” Torbjörn blustered, still rubbing sunscreen on himself, “These are clearly inferior and cheap popsicles!”

Brigitte rolled her eyes, “Just take them,” she said, as McCree and Mercy opened their popsicles. McCree’s was strawberry, Mercy’s was orange cream.

“I see you two actually came all set up,” said Mccree, licking at the bottom of his popsicle before red could drip onto his knuckles.

“But of course!” said Torbjörn, “We Lindholms work hard and play hard!”

“Don’t believe him,” said Brigitte, “He’s got a nannycam on the watchpoint anti-aircraft turrets. He’s been checking his tablet every 5 minutes.”

“Stop calling it a nannycam!” said Torbjörn.

“Stop calling the turrets ‘babies,’” said Brigitte with a smirk.

“Why of all the–” Torbjörn huffed and seized another popsicle out of the cooler, muttering as he unwrapped it and bit off a chunk of it.

“Where’s Genji?” asked Brigitte, craning her neck to look around, “He didn’t come here with you?”

“He’s coming, he just had some things to wrap up at the Watchpoint first,” said Mercy.

“Guess he’s gotta babysit his brother now that Jack let me off the hook,” said McCree with a shrug, sliding the last bits of popsicle off its stick with his teeth.

“Don’t tell me the probation’s over already?” said Torbjörn.

“Congrats on the new team member?” McCree shrugged.

“So he’s actually staying?” said Brigitte, “But he’s so… ‘Hmph!’” she passed her hand in front of her face and her expression theatrically shifted to a furrowed brow and deep frown. Mercy snickered.

“Well, the only sniper we’ve got is Ana, and she’s focused on medic stuff half the time,” said McCree, “I mean, I don’t think it would hurt.”

“Huh! I guess you would know,” Brigitte shrugged, “I mean, you spent more time with him than anyone here.”

“Well, yeah–that was my job,” said McCree, a bit more harshly than he meant to say.

Brigitte blinked, “Sorry, did I come off as rude with that last comment?”

“What?” said McCree, “No.”

“It’s just you seem a little agitated—”

“I–” McCree huffed and cut himself off, “I’m fine. It’s fine. You got anything to drink in that cooler?”

“Thought you’d never ask!” said Torbjörn.

—

“I can’t do this,” said Hanzo, as they walked across the beach. Hanzo’s stomach was still twisting at the sight of the scars that scored Genji’s arms and face. Genji’s prosthetic legs were on full display with his ridiculously short workout shorts.The way Genji talked about the shame he felt about his own body in years past, it was a bit of a relief to see Genji walking around dressed like he did back in their youth, but it also faced Hanzo with his own mistakes. But what could he do? Ask Genji to don a full wetsuit for his own comfort? When every scar on display was Hanzo’s own doing? Hanzo tried to focus on scanning the crowd for potential threats rather than look directly at Genji.

“It’s really not that bad—” said Genji.

“Why am I doing this? Why are you wearing that?!” said Hanzo, gesturing at Genji’s open-sided tank top.

Genji glanced down at the words ‘BAE WATCH’ splayed across his chest in large block letters. “Because it’s fun?” he suddenly perked up, “Oh! There’s Angela.”

Hanzo followed Genji’s line of sight to a small gathering at a beach umbrella. McCree and Mercy were facing away from them, blocking out whoever was under the umbrella. McCree was still wearing a cowboy hat with his swim trunks. Of course he was. They all seemed to be having a pleasant time talking, and Genji started walking towards them when Hanzo suddenly stuck a hand out in front of Genji’s chest.

“What?” said Genji.

“Hold this,” Hanzo handed Genji his vest.

“Sure–” Genji started but Hanzo split off from him and started wading into the water, “Wait–but the others are–!” Genji cut himself off as Hanzo submerged his head. Genji’s shoulders slumped a little, still holding Hanzo’s vest, “It’s fine!” he called out to the water, “I’ll just tell them you’re swimming!”

—

“…but you guys are still sharing the dormitories?” said Brigitte, slipping a cozy on her beer can.

“We aren’t sharing the dormitories–they’re dormitories–there’s like 12 beds down there, not exactly sharing,” said McCree.

“I’d say it’s sharing if there’s no walls,” said Torbjörn.

“It’s not sharing,” said McCree flatly.

“There is still that last admin apartment,” said Mercy, “You could take that.”

“God, no, I’m not pulling that ‘odd couple’ shit,” said McCree.

“…I mean just you. You singular. You would take the apartment and Hanzo would stay in the dormitories,” said Mercy.

“…Oh,” said McCree. He took a long gulp from his own beer then.

“I mean if you wanted to take the apartment with him, I wouldn’t stop you–” Mercy started but McCree sputtered and coughed.

“You okay?” said Brigitte as McCree coughed for an awkwardly long time.

“Fine–” McCree coughed, “Just–fine—” he coughed some more.

“Yo!” Genji’s voice rang out from behind him and McCree swiveled on his heel.

“Gen–” he coughed, “–ji! You made it!”

“Of course I’m here,” said Genji, tossing a white vest over his shoulder and swinging an arm around Mercy’s waist, “I heard a certain doctor would be in a swimsuit and I came running.”

Mercy snorted and rolled her eyes before leaning into his embrace and kissing him on the cheek. “I can’t believe you’re wearing the tank top,” she said, grinning.

“You love this tank top,” said Genji, returning the kiss.

An “Aw!” fell out of Brigitte while Torbjörn just rolled his eyes and grumbled.

“Guess Hanzo chickened out, then?” said McCree.

“Oh no, he’s still here,” said Genji, “Just decided to cool off. He really is looking forward to spending time with all of you!”

No one really had the heart to tell Genji when it was painfully obvious that Hanzo had said no such thing.

“Well,” Brigitte offered helpfully, digging through the cooler and tossing Genji a popsicle, “When he gets here, there’s popsicles and beers and sodas with his name on them!”

—

Hanzo’s eyes were squeezed shut beneath the water, he could feel the salt clawing at the line of his lips and the creases of his eyelids.

You can’t stay down here forever, he told himself, Literally. You have to breathe.

He permitted his head to break the surface only slightly, letting his nose rise above the water to breathe, and blinked a few times to get the sting of salt away. On the beach, Genji was eagerly chatting with his arm around Mercy’s shoulders, McCree was looking on, and the Lindholms were sitting on beach towels beneath an umbrella. Genji said something Hanzo couldn’t hear from that distance and all five of them laughed. What? What was so funny? Were they talking about him? No, don’t be an idiot–they all had lives well before he came to that watchpoint, it was ridiculous to assume he’d be at the center of all them just by being there. None of them even looked over in his direction.

When was the last time you were able to just… be with people? In a group? Genji’s voice echoed in Hanzo’s mind and no small amount of resentment came over him.

There’s always a bit of bitterness when one is an older sibling and one watches something come more naturally to their younger sibling. Genji was always the more personable between the two of them–Hanzo could hold council with the elders of the clan, but Genji could actually talk to people and not come off as stiff and unnatural. Hanzo couldn’t stand how naturally it came to Genji, and for Hanzo it just became a vicious cycle of throwing himself into his training and clan traditions and then wondering why people only seemed more and more distant to him. Brigitte said something this time and McCree cracked up, the lines of his stomach and ribs tensing with his laugh. Genji glanced over his shoulder towards the water.

Don’t look at me don’t look at me don’t look at me— the words ran as a prayer in Hanzo’s mind.

They made eye contact.

Shit, thought Hanzo, Don’t wave to me. Don’t point me out. Don’t–

Genji waved to him and then glanced back at the others, pointing out Hanzo in the water, saying something inaudible from where Hanzo was.

“Shit,” Hanzo said the word with his mouth still below the water and it broke the water’s surface as a silent bubble. Well if he stayed out here any longer it would just get more and more awkward unless he made a big show of doing a backstroke or something–but no, he was in the water and he was staring so he had to come out now. Hanzo brought his head up out of the water and took a deep breath. “Very well, Genji,” he muttered under his breath, wading towards the shore.

—

“See?” said Genji putting his hands on his hips, “I told you he’d be happy to join us.”

“So you really had to drag him out here, huh?” McCree smirked, mindlessly chewing on his popsicle stick.

“I didn’t have to drag him–he actually does like the beach. He was always better at fishing than me,” said Genji.

“Sure. Ten bucks says he’s going to fake being caught up in a riptide before he…” McCree trailed off as Hanzo got out of the water, “comes…” Water was dripping down the dip of Hanzo’s collarbone and glistening over the curve of his pecs, “Over.” The last word fell out of McCree as a murmur, an afterthought as Hanzo brushed water from his brow and swept his hair up off the back of his neck, revealing a freshly-shaved undercut. The sun glared off the water’s surface almost blindingly behind him, leaving the silhouette of his body outlined in blazing gold and greenish-blue, Hanzo’s eyes were downcast–apparently he was attempting to look as casual as possible in coming out of the water, but the result was an inadvertent visual homage to every 80′s movie slow-motion coming-out-of-a-pool scene. With his hair swept up, Hanzo wrung his hair out, sending more water dripping down onto his shoulder muscles and running shining down the lines of his torso, dancing along his ribs and obliques.

The popsicle stick fell out of McCree’s mouth and landed in the sand. Mercy gave a glance down to the popsicle stick then up at McCree, still staring, utterly transfixed.

The dragons tattooed on Hanzo’s arm shifted with the muscles of his arm as he tied his hair back in a not-quite bun and he circled his arm in its socket as he closed the distance between himself and the group, his eyes now focusing on them. Genji said something that sounded like ‘How’s the water’ and Hanzo responded with what McCree assumed was ‘Good’ or some equivalent, but if McCree was being honest, whatever they were saying was blurred out of his conscious mind by the extremely distracting visuals of droplets of water running down the contours of Hanzo’s chest and abs. Hanzo dug through one of the pockets of his Hokusai wave-printed swim trunks and took out a strip of white cloth, twisting it and tying it into a headband to keep a stray bang of hair from his face before he made eye contact with McCree and said something.

“What?” said McCree.

“I said ‘Do you have a towel?’” said Hanzo.

“Yeah,” said McCree, still staring.

A long pause passed between them.

“…may I have a towel?” Hanzo asked after some time.

“Oh!” McCree snapped out of his haze, “oh–yeah just–” he looked around, and saw Torbjörn holding up a spare towel. Hanzo reached out for the towel but McCree grabbed it first and then caught himself at how awkward that just was, “Sorry-just–” he stuck the towel out to Hanzo and Hanzo hesitantly took it. Hanzo ran the towel over himself briskly, pressing his face into it and getting under his arms. McCree didn’t really realize he was staring again until he felt Brigitte’s eyes on him and he snapped out of the stupor. Brigitte snorted and McCree made sharp eye contact with her, but she just sipped her beer to suppress a laugh and glanced off before digging through the cooler.

“I…” Hanzo cleared his throat, “To be honest, in spite of how aware I was of the proximity of the sea, it did not occur to me that the Watchpoint would be so close to a beach.”

“We forget about it all the time, ourselves. Overwatch is busy like that. Popsicle?” Brigitte offered.

Hanzo warily took the popsicle and unwrapped it. “Thank you,” he said, blue raspberry already dripping onto his fingers.

“Speaking of the Watchpoint, we were just discussing sleeping arrangements now that you’re on the team,” said Mercy.

Hanzo broke off the end of his popsicle in his mouth. “They’re subject to change?” he tilted his head.

“Well the thing is, is that both you and McCree are in the dormitories, which while, yes, they do have all the amenities, are dormitories, and there’s one administrative apartment left.”

“We don’t need to talk about this now–” McCree cut in.

“You could take the apartment,” said Genji, looking at Hanzo, “We could be neighbors!”

“That’s hardly fair to those who have been living here for some time,” said Hanzo, “McCree should take it,” Hanzo gave a glance back to McCree, “I know you were concerned you would just ‘trash the place,’ but your teammates obviously value you, so you shouldn’t downplay your—”

“We’ll play it by ear,” McCree blurted out.

Mercy knew she could push for an actual resolution on the matter, but noting McCree’s face she decided not to.

“You said I was on the team,” said Hanzo, looking at Mercy.

“Well your probation is over,” said Torbjörn.

“But we don’t have to worry about missions right now,” said Brigitte, tossing Hanzo a beer can, “Right now, it’s about relaxing, and taking a breath.”

“Hm,” Hanzo gave a nod. “I…” he started and then cut himself off.

“Yes?” said Mercy.

“I know… my coming here has disrupted a lot of things, but… it… it does mean a lot to me to get to know all of you.” Hanzo awkwardly bit off more of his popsicle then.

“Han–” Genji started but McCree cut him off.

“It means a lot to have you here, Hanzo,” said McCree.

Everyone’s head swiveled towards McCree.

“Because… you’re… Genji’s family,” McCree tacked on awkwardly, “It’s good to have family here. You two know all about family, right?” said McCree gesturing at the Lindholms.

Brigitte and Torbjörn just stared at him and nodded awkwardly.

“Don’t worry about disrupting things,” said Mercy, swooping in to McCree’s rescue in the awkward silence.

Hanzo perked up and looked at her with some surprise.

“We’re vigilantes,” said Mercy, “Disruption is a natural state for us. You should just focus on settling in.”

She felt Genji’s eyes on her and she glanced back at him and gave him a little smile. Genji squeezed around her waist a little in response.

“Thank you,” said Hanzo.

There was a brief lull in the conversation and Hanzo’s eyes trailed across the beach. He glanced past several people playing volleyball and his eyes widened.

“What?” said Genji, following his line of sight.

“Fishing pole rentals,” said Hanzo, a bit mindlessly.

“We should get one!” said Genji.

“I’m terribly out of practice—” Hanzo started but Genji broke away from Mercy and grabbed his arm.

“Come on!” he said, leading him off, “You could catch a mejina! Like the old days!”

“We’re in Gibraltar–The fish aren’t the same here–” Hanzo was protesting but let Genji drag him off.

McCree watched as they two brothers went off, the muscles in Hanzo’s back, sparkling with salt and shifting as he tried to keep up.

“You’re staring again,” said Mercy, as soon as the Shimada brothers were out of earshot.

“What?” said McCree, snapping his eyes away from Hanzo. “Who’s staring? I wasn’t– Look, I was his probationary officer. It was my job. It’s all force of habit.”

“Wow,” said Brigitte.

“What?!” said McCree.

“Wow,” Brigitte said again.

Mercy and Torbjörn just cracked open new cans of beer.

#long post #mchanzo #gency

152 notes · View notes

hopeisour4letteredword · 5 years

Text

Puppy Love Ch1

Summary: Yuri has somewhere between two and four children, depending on your definition of "child," a dog, two jobs, and a too-small apartment. Reconnecting with his estranged best friend wasn't supposed to be on this week's to-do list.

Link to AO3 in the notes.

It starts like any other trip to the vet. Repede whines pathetically as they pull into the parking lot, but obediently—if sulkily—trots along at Yuri’s heels. Yuri shepherds him into the lobby and checks them in at the desk, then slumps into a chair in an examination room to wait for a vet tech. Repede wedges himself under the chair between Yuri’s calves.

What a big baby.

Yuri has his phone out, absentmindedly tapping at a game. It’s mostly to keep his hands busy while he mentally outlines his week. He has to get groceries at some point, but fucked if he knows when he’ll have time for it. He’s pulling double shifts through Thursday. In between the café and bartending, he has to pick Karol up from lacrosse practice and make dinner. Friday he doesn’t have bartending, but Rita’s got her latest robotics tournament on Friday, so that’s no good. And anyway, they won’t make it to Friday with their current stocks. They’ve barely got the food to make it through Wednesday.

Maybe Judy—? No, Judy has her own bartending and waitressing jobs to worry about. There’s always Estelle, but frankly Estelle sucks at grocery shopping. They’ll end up with basic staples and nothing else. Rita and Karol are already threatening mutiny if Yuri packs them any more egg sandwiches in their lunches. He can’t trust Estelle to shop for real ingredients.

Shit. Maybe he’ll squeeze it in after Repede’s check-up. He was hoping to catch a nap before his bartending shift, but it looks like he’ll just have to suck it up.

“Hi, is this R—oh my God, Yuri?”

Yuri almost drops his fucking phone onto Repede, his head shooting up at the familiar voice. “Flynn?”

They stare at each other like deer in the headlights for a long, terrible moment, before Flynn coughs awkwardly and steps fully into the room. “Hi, so we’ve got Repede here for a check-up today, right?”

“Theoretically,” Yuri says. “If we can get him out from under the ch—“

Repede has fully emerged from under the chair and stands in the middle of the room, watching Flynn suspiciously.

“Aww, hey there,” Flynn says. His eyes crinkle up with an irrepressible smile as he crouches to offer Repede his hand. Yuri’s heart hiccups in his chest. He’s still stupidly beautiful when he makes that dumb face. “You know, I wondered when I saw the name ‘Repede’ on the schedule, but I convinced myself it wasn’t...”

“Well, surprise,” Yuri says, letting the words come out sharper than he means to. Flynn raises an eyebrow while Repede licks his knuckles warily. The little bastard usually hates the vet, what is he doing? Does he remember Flynn? It’s been like three years. He’s a dog. He’s not even supposed to be able to remember he chewed up Estelle’s shoes last night. Or is that just about associating actions with human displeasure? “It was us.”

“I can see that.” Flynn tickles Repede under the chin. “Alright, buddy, let’s get you on the scale, huh?”

Repede whuffles sadly but allows Flynn to weigh him. Afterwards, as Flynn does a respectable job of concealing the medical feel-up as affectionate patting, he cocks his head in Yuri’s direction.

“It’s been a while.”

“Yeah.” Yuri shrugs, jamming his hands into his pockets. “Congrats on, you know. Vet school. Presumably.”

Flynn beams. “Thank you. It was incredibly generous of Dr. Oltorain to offer me a position here while I’m still pursuing my studies.”

“Something something valuable career experience.”

“You never change, do you?” Flynn snorts. He gives Repede’s ribs a final squeeze, then makes a few notes on a clipboard.

“Nope. Same old me.”

“What about you? What are you up to these days?”

“Eh, this and that. Helping out Hanks sometimes. Odd jobs. Accidentally acquiring roommates. The usual.”

“Accidentally—?” Flynn frowns at him, then sighs and shakes his head. “You’ve been picking up strays again, haven’t you?”

“Not the kind you’re thinking of,” Yuri says, wistfully imagining how much goddamn simpler his life would be if he had four mangy dogs or cats instead of four unruly teenagers in his house.

“Real roommates, then? Tell me they’re at least paying rent.”

“I got like a fifty-fifty success rate on that one.”

“Yuri!”

“What? Anything else would be child labor.”

“Child—“ Flynn pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Let’s keep going with the check-up. What are you feeding him? How often?”

They go through the rest of the checklist, Flynn scribbling away at his clipboard. Finally, he clicks the pen and tucks the clipboard under his arm.

“Okay, you two sit tight for a few minutes and Dr. Oltorain will be right with you.”

“Sure.”

Flynn leaves the room. Yuri waits thirty seconds to make sure Flynn isn’t going to duck back in because he’s forgotten something, then drops his head into his hands with a loud groan.

“What the fuck?”

Of course Flynn works at his vet now. Of fucking course. He was just starting to feel like his life might be on the right track. It was time for something to go wrong. Repede noses against his hands until he drops them, then hauls himself into Yuri’s lap.

“You’re way too big to be doing this in this tiny ass chair,” Yuri says, doing absolutely nothing to get him down. Repede licks his cheek, narrowly missing the corner of his mouth. “Augh, gross, I know where you put that tongue.”

Despite his bitching, having a lap full of dog is making him feel a little better. Repede’s fur is silky under his hands, and every bony joint jamming into tender parts of his body is something to worry about that isn’t Flynn.

After a few minutes of cuddling, Raven sticks his head into the room. “Heeey, who do we have here?”

Repede’s ears flatten against his skull. Yuri rolls his eyes. “Hello to you too, old man.”

“The disrespect,” Raven sighs, slipping into the room and closing the door behind him. “So, our buddy Flynn didn’t find any issues, so it looks like we just gotta do the quick run-down and get your boy here his shots. You know the drill.”

“Yeah.”

Yuri manhandles Repede back onto the floor and nudges him towards Raven. He growls. Raven barks out a laugh.

“Come on, pupper. Don’t be like that.”

“I hope you know that a little part of my soul dies every time you say that word,” Yuri says. Raven smirks at him.

“That’s why I keep using it.”

“Screw you.”

“Who, me? When you’ve got my perfectly good vet tech to ogle?”

Motherfucker, he knows. “I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Don’t be such a sourpuss,” Raven says. He strides over to Repede while Yuri holds his dog in place. “Alright, doggo, it’s only gonna take a minute.”

The second he gets his hands on Repede, Repede gives them a full speech on how much he hates it. Yuri tries to shush him with gentle murmurs and stroking along his back, but the growling and whimpering don’t stop as Raven pats him down.

“Poor boy,” Raven says. “If I hadn’t been seein’ him since he was a pup, I’d think he had some kinda vet trauma.”

“He does, he has to see you every time,” Yuri snaps. “That’s enough to traumatize anyone.”

“God, you’re grouchy today,” Raven says. He croons softly as he tries to pry Repede’s jaws open to look at his teeth. Repede makes angry muffled sounds. “I thought maybe seeing our favorite golden boy would soften you up, but it did the opposite, didn’t it?”

“Who told you, anyway?”

“What, about you and Flynn?” Raven snorts. He still can’t get Repede’s mouth open. At least there’s no warning nips happening. Yuri almost had to go out and get a muzzle for Repede, solely for the vet, after their last visit. He wouldn’t really bite Raven, not on purpose, but it’s enough to make everyone involved nervous. “I knew Niren, kid. He used to talk you two up all the time.”

Yuri shifts uncomfortably.

“Anyway, so does Flynn, for that matter. Can’t get him to shut up about you.”

“Yeah right,” Yuri says, under his breath.

“If you start calling me a liar I’m gonna get Judy and Estelle involved in this conversation,” Raven says. He gives up on Repede’s jaws. “And then you’ll have to talk about your feelings.”

“Just fucking try me,” Yuri says. “I’ll tell Judy to talk to you about Alcoholics Anonymous again.”

“I’m glad we can have these objective, professional conversations during your check-ups,” Raven says, wincing as he rises from his crouch. “Ugh, my knees. Hold on, I’m gonna see if Flynn can get this guy to open up for us.”

“Try not to collapse on your way there, old timer.”

“Respect your elders, you brat.” Raven goes to the door and sticks his head into the back again. “Scifo! I could use a hand over here. And bring the vaccinations for Repede Lowell on your way, please.”

“I’ve never heard you use the word please before in my life,” Yuri says. Raven partially closes the door and mouths shut up at him. A moment later, he steps aside and lets Flynn into the room.

“I need your strong young hands,” Raven says. He plucks the vaccines from Flynn’s hands and jerks a thumb towards Repede. “Our friend here isn’t too fond of having his teeth checked.”

Repede whines and sticks his head between Yuri’s knees.

“Nobody’s doing anything to your mouth,” Yuri says, exasperatedly. He ruffles Repede’s ears. “You know nobody’s doing anything to your mouth. Just let them look and it’ll be over with.”

Repede whuffles sadly. Flynn comes over and crouches next to Yuri, scratching Repede’s back.

“Hi, buddy. You gonna let me see your handsome face?”

Repede lifts his head and rests it on Yuri’s thigh, giving Flynn a baleful look. Flynn reaches out to stroke his muzzle. Yuri tries very hard not to have a heart attack with Flynn’s hand so close to his groin.

“C’mon,” Flynn murmurs. “S’okay, bud. You’re okay. C’mere.”

Repede shoves his nose against Yuri’s abs, whimpering some more.

“No, you have to be a big boy,” Yuri says, pushing him back. Repede transfers the baleful look to him, then turns and tries to shove his nose into Flynn’s abs instead. Unfortunately for him, Flynn catches him by the face instead, holding him in place so Raven can come back across the room to join the party.

“Here we go,” Raven says. Flynn gently pries his mouth open. Repede—what the hell, Repede lets him. He growls again when Raven tries to reach for him, but only makes sad noises at Flynn. “Alright. It happens like this sometimes. I’m going to need you to expose his gums for me.”

“Okay, Dr. Oltorain.”

One side, then the other, then Raven waves a hand so Flynn releases Repede’s jaw. Repede immediately jerks away and hides against Yuri again.

“No problems lately, correct?” Raven asks Yuri. “No odd behavior, changes in eating habits?”

“Same as alw—“ Yuri pauses and actually thinks about it. “...The kids might have been sneaking him more people food.”

Flynn gives him a scandalized look. Raven just chuckles.

“Karol, huh?”

“Estelle keeps trying to buy his love,” Yuri says. To Flynn, defensively, he adds, “I’ve tried telling her not to.”

Flynn is busy mouthing Estelle at him questioningly.

“Well, his weight is steady, so I wouldn’t worry about it excessively if you haven’t noticed any behavioral or digestive issues,” Raven says. He makes a few notes on his clipboard. “Try to limit it, of course, but no cause for alarm. Make sure the kids know which foods are toxic to dogs. Teeth looked good, so I don’t think it’s time to start planning dental cleaning yet. We’ll get him his shots and you’ll be all set. Sound good?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” Raven says, and hands a syringe to Flynn, taking a large step back. Flynn startles comically.

“Dr. Oltorain—?”

“He’s more comfortable with you—it’s safer for everyone involved. As I said earlier, it happens this way sometimes. I’ll be right here on standby, but I don’t think you need coaching.”

Flynn dutifully preps the shots the same way Yuri’s been watching Raven do it for the last three years. Yuri knows the drill, too, and carefully gets Repede into the most comfortable headlock he can. Repede, desperately convincing himself it’s a regular hug, wags his tail nervously. He yelps when Flynn lays a hand on his hindquarters and presses the needle against his flank. He devolves into fretful whimpers against Yuri’s chest.

“I know, I know,” Yuri mumbles. “Hey, shh. Come on, you’re fine. Shh. This is better than getting rabies, huh? Shh. I know. It’s okay.”

“Fortuitous timing to have found a vet tech he’ll put up with,” Raven says, handing Flynn the next vaccine. “Since we’ve got all his core boosters this time.”

Repede licks frantically at Yuri’s neck. Yuri presses his forehead to Repede’s apologetically, petting his shoulder blades.

“This is karma for eating Estelle’s shoes,” Yuri tells him. Maybe if he makes jokes he’ll stop feeling so guilty. He doesn’t want Repede to get sick, dammit. He needs these shots. They’re good for him.

“Ah, yes, the terrible punishment of not getting parvo,” Raven says, wryly. Flynn shakes his head as he readies the next vaccine, circling around to Repede’s other flank.

“If he’s being destructive, he might need an energy outlet. Try to get him more exercise.”

Yuri physically bites back the urge to tell Flynn not to tell him what to do. Who’s he to show up back in Yuri’s life out of the blue and tell him he doesn’t know how to take care of his own damn dog? Raven frowns.

“Let’s avoid the accusatory advice, Flynn.”

“Sorry,” Flynn mutters, ducking his head. Three down, one to go.

“And speaking of Repede’s exercise, I’ve added a vaccine for Lyme disease to his annual set.”

Make that two to go. Yuri grimaces, mentally adding another $15 to the bill. “Okay.”

“You hike a lot?” Flynn asks.

“When we’ve got the time,” Yuri says. It isn’t as often as he’d like. Mostly they have to stick to jogs and on-leash community parks. They can get away with frisbee on the lawn by Karol’s school if nobody has sports practice, and Karol has started throwing balls around for Repede with his lacrosse stick every once in a while. Maybe Yuri will start detouring to local parks on the way home from Karol’s games and Rita’s tournaments.

Flynn gives Repede the last shot and pulls back with a sympathetic pat. Repede crawls forward, forcing his way into Yuri’s lap and tipping them both over so Yuri lands painfully on his ass on the hard tile floor. Yuri scoffs at him, but lets him curl up on top of his thighs.

“German shepherd mix who thinks he’s a lapdog,” Raven says, watching them with an expression that Yuri is going to pretend isn’t fond, thank you very much. They’ve both got reputations to uphold. “You spoil that mongrel.”

“If you think this is bad, wait until Judy figures out how to fit him into a bag so she can take him on train trips,” Yuri says. Repede huffs pitifully, dropping his muzzle onto Yuri’s shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. Tell me all about it. You suffer so much. Really awful of us to make sure you don’t die of preventable diseases.”

“Take your overgrown puppy and go get some rest, Lowell,” Raven says. He collects the empty syringes from Flynn and carefully disposes of them in the sharps bin. “You look like you’re running on fumes.”

“I gotta settle the bill first,” Yuri grumbles. He pushes Repede out of his lap and heaves himself to his feet. Maybe they’ll be waiting until Friday for groceries after all. He might need to wait for his next paycheck after this. He tries to do the math in his head, bank account minus vet bill versus typical grocery restock.

“No, you don’t. Don’t even think about it.”

Yuri narrows his eyes. “What’s that, old man?”

“Yuri!” Flynn hisses. “You can’t talk to Dr. Oltor—“

“There’s no bill,” Raven says. He makes a shoo motion with his hands. “Judy won’t let me tip her at the Myorzo anymore.”

“You tip her like 300 percent. It’s kind of creepy.”

“Well, she’s a good bartender. Anyway, I have to contribute to your rent somehow.”

“I don’t need your charity.”

“Yuri!”

“Kid,” Raven says, looking Yuri straight in the eyes. “You have five people and a dog in a two-room apartment, and you’re still bringing Repede to the vet. The least I can do is offer positive reinforcement. Besides, if I bill you for making sure one of Lambert’s pups doesn’t get rabies, Niren is going to—pardon my language, Flynn—he’ll fucking haunt me.”

“Dr. Oltorain!”

“I said pardon my language! Anyway, I don’t need those nightmares.” Raven waves a dismissive hand at Yuri again. Yuri grits his teeth. The old bastard really isn’t going to budge. “Get out of my clinic.”

“I’ll pay you back,” Yuri mutters, clipping Repede’s leash back on. “Once we stabilize.”

“Take your time,” Raven says, mildly. “Seriously, though, get out. I have other clients to deal with.”

He disappears through the back door. Yuri turns on his heel, not meeting Flynn’s eyes, and has a hand on the doorknob when the back door swings open again.

“And I better not hear from the receptionist that you tried to harass them into letting you pay!”

“For fuck’s sake—I wasn’t gonna! I won’t! Jesus Christ.”

The back door slams closed again. Flynn makes a breathy sound that might be laughter.

“I didn’t realize you and Dr. Oltorain were so... familiar.”

“He passes through the bars Judy and I work at a lot,” Yuri says, grudgingly. It’s not the whole story, but it’s what Flynn’s getting out of him. “And he’s been Repede’s vet since he was a puppy.”

“Judy’s your... girlfriend?”

“What? No. No.” Yuri drops his hand from the doorknob to run it through his hair, laughing a bit in disbelief. “Judy? No way. We’re roommates. Used to be coworkers.”

There’s a weird beat of silence. When he glances back, Flynn is chewing on his lip indecisively. “Can we... can I give you my new cell number? I’d like to catch up sometime. I missed you.”

Sounds fake, but okay. “Sure, I guess.”

“And I’d love to meet your roommates,” Flynn adds, terribly earnest.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Yuri says. He can already imagine Flynn and Rita’s tempers clashing. “But we can, I dunno, text or go out for drinks or something.”

“Coffee?” Flynn suggests. Yuri gives him a weird look. He hastily adds, “I just... don’t know if we should risk getting drunk together again quite yet.”

“Whatever,” Yuri says. If Flynn doesn’t even remember he’s an affectionate drunk, not an angry drunk, that’s... It hurts, a little. It hasn’t been that long since they were joined at the hip. Flynn is a little bit of an angry drunk, but as far as Yuri can remember, he’s never held up a temper too long when Yuri’s that friendly and relaxed. Yuri fishes his phone out of his pocket and tosses it to Flynn. “Put your number in, then.”

Flynn gives him a hopeful smile as he complies. When he hands Yuri’s phone back, he lingers with a feather-light touch to Yuri’s wrist. “I’ll talk to you soon, then?”

“Uh-huh.”

Yuri beats a hasty retreat to his car, where he immediately slumps into the driver’s seat to let out a loud, plaintive groan. Repede stretches forward from the back seat to lick at his shoulder reassuringly. Yuri gives himself another thirty seconds to wallow, immobile, in self-pity, before he snaps his seatbelt into place and turns the key in the ignition.

Life goes on, Flynn or no Flynn.

#fluri #flynn scifo #yuri lowell #repede vesperia #tales of vesperia #judith dragon rider #bastard spotted #not art #long post #Feeling Pretty Good About the Trouble That I’m In

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neshabeingchildish · 5 years

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Lady and the Tramp

I do not know why the chapters of this story suddenly got so long! I’ve just been unable to stop writing lately. Stress writing, mostly, which I hate to do because sometimes, that can send the story off track. Of course, it can also ignite some of my greatest ideas. Unfortunately, I never know until after y’all tell me what my stress writing came through with. 😭 At any rate, I definitely will cover the conversation later. I didn’t have the place in this chapter to do so. Your reviews are keeping me sane.

Lady and the Tramp

After the sophomore summer, Charlotte knew that she wasn’t going to be able to make anymore trips home. The amount of lab work that she would be doing, the conferences and a lot of the other workshops and stuff she had to do would pull most of her time and being Jasper’s #1 Fan would take the rest. He had several competitions, matches, and games. She was skipping every boxing match, because she didn’t want him doing it in the first place and had even told him that he should go back to kite disc, but without him, the school’s team dissipated and he didn’t have the time to commit to the league again.

Whenever it was Dodge-a-leen time, though, Charlotte was in the stands in brightly colored high waisted leggings with a Big Dog T-shirt, tied up in the back, and dog makeup on her face. She could do that deep voice barking that the fans often did, but she gave it a shot. With her tiny voice, it always stood out and everybody began calling her “Little Dog,” which Jasper loved, because that was his girl. She… had mixed feelings about it. She didn’t know that she cared for the nickname “Big Dog.” Henry used to call him that sometimes, but this was different. This nickname had come about from something that she still found embarrassing, though Jasper never had taken it as such. And also, she felt like Little Dog was a hop, skip and jump from being his bitch, and well… She guessed as long as nobody ever said THAT, she was fine.

Besides, he still called her Chef’s Kiss and she now called him F Sized. She didn’t explain it to other people, as it started out as a little inside joke during one of her sexy study sessions with Jasper. He couldn’t get the answers right, therefore wasn’t allowed to touch the parts. That was how it worked. A was her backside, B was her chest, C was down there, and D - he was able to take her hand and put on his down there. But, if he wasn’t getting the answers correct, there wasn’t touching. She moved or stopped his hand if it was going to the wrong spot. He was struggling with the mock test and began grumbling about how he’d “cockblocked himself with stupidity.”

While stupidity definitely was a turn off, Charlotte hadn’t viewed Jasper as stupid in a long time and she certainly hadn’t called him that ever since finding out that his stepdad did. Whenever he called himself that, she verbally redirected him. This particular study session, he said, “I have a humongous head with a stupid tiny brain in it.”

“You’re not stupid and if you were, your brain wouldn’t be smaller.”

“It is though. You know brains develop differently when kids have trauma, remember?”

“Yeah, but…” She fumbled over her words and managed to say, “I love your fun sized brain!” He loved that compliment. Fun Sized Brain was his new handle on Twitflash because of it.

“I appreciate that you said fun sized, because that is actually exactly what I think of your cute little body as!” She frowned. He smiled and explained, “Because you’re petite.”

“I got it.”

“You have a full sized heart, though!”

She smiled and shook her head, “See, I would have called yours friend sized, but I dig that full sized still fits the alliteration scheme.”

He took her hand and placed it on himself, “Mm hmm, and what is this sized?”

“Fuck sized,” she said, without a pause and they both started laughing. “By the way, the answer is D, so I’ll count that as correct.”

“I don’t remember the question…”

The only person she told the meaning of Jasper’s F Sized nickname was Henry, and she’d said, “Because his brain is fun sized, his heart is friend sized and his manhood is fu…”

“Let me stop you there, Champ,” he said, laughing and shaking his head. “I’m glad that you two fixed everything. You’re not worried that it might go off track again?”

“No, we’ve done a lot of work together to make sure that we’re actually on the same page and have the same goals for us. PLUS, I got us affirmation journals. We decorated each other’s and we keep them, filling them up with greatness as we see it - like the good things we notice about each other, the positives that we see and the accomplishments made by one another. If we have negative times, one can invoke the affirmation journal and either read in it to reaffirm ourselves OR, if we’re that much in our feelings, the one of us that hurt the other will read affirmations to the hurt party. We haven’t had to use them… much, and we’ve both written a whole lot inside of them.”

“So, you two just carry around paper books and write every good thing in it that you can think about each other, so that if you argue, you’ll have the positives on record already to counter the bad feelings?”

“Bingo!”

“That’s… brilliant. Your idea?”

“Sort of. It was my idea to make it into this type of practice, but that was motivated by how Jasper got me not to break up with him. He let me see his life goals journal and I saw these really beautiful things that he’d written about me and it changed my heart. So, I thought of this idea for us to make a part of our love culture.”

“This is so stinkin’ cute. I can’t even bear it!” Henry said with heart eyes. “Ugh. I gotta find myself a lil’ nerd girl.”

“Find a lovable jock,” she advised.

“Jasper’s considered a jock, now?”

“I mean… he’s involved in the athletics program. Let me show you something, I think you’ll appreciate this..” She dug around for a book then showed it to the video call she had open with Henry. It was a red leather bound book with various rocks attached to it, kinda like it was bedazzled, but not with sparkly rocks, and the title was scripted on in some of Charlotte’s nice scripting: Jasffirmation Journal.

Henry gasped, “You did a fun pun!” “I did!” she cheered.

“That’s a nice journal. What are all those rocks?”

“Those are various forms of jasper that I procured myself on an excavation assignment.”

“You’re freakin’ awesome, Char.”

“I definitely agree with that, but thank you!”

“I gotta see what his looks like,” Henry said and texted Jasper to ask him to send him a pic of the affirmation journal he kept for Char. Within minutes, he received it. “OH MY GOD!” Henry said. Charlotte just smiled as Henry fawned over the realistic sketch of Charlotte with stars in her hair and coils that spelled: I’m Charstruck. “He did a fun pun too!”

“We worked with you and Ray for way too long,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” he said, putting his phone aside. “Man, Jasper’s drawing is amazing. Is he taking art classes?”

“No. He’s a tattoo artist, though. Remember?”

“OH! He finished his apprenticeship. That’s cool. Will tattoos money put him through school?”

“One of his accounting major frat bros has helped him with his budget, which I used to do but hadn’t had the time to try to reorganize it, so this guy did. Jasper gets some funds from his fanbase, and he gets free stuff from local businesses and companies - like he’s got all this merch that he basically is a walking ad for and I keep telling him to see about talking to someone about sponsorship, but he’s just happy to get free stuff just for being popular and likable. I’m like, you can get paid to get free stuff for the same thing, Dude! So, he is doing just fine.”

“Does he have any tattoos? I’m not gonna get a tattoo from somebody who doesn’t have a tattoo, just on principle.”

“He’s got a few little ones,” she said.

“Really? What of?”

She smiled and sent Henry texts. She had photos of Jasper’s tats. The one on his arm, which was a blend of a lion and a bull with touching faces (because those were the animals of their zodiac signs and he’d designed the drawing), a Captain Man symbol on his left wrist, small enough to cover with a watch, if he had to for work or something, and the back shoulder that had Lady and the Tramp characters. “Dude… what?” Henry said, “Two of these are kind of big and why in the world did he get Lady and the Tramp tattooed on his body? Does Jasper realize that these are permanent?” “Yes, he does. He’s not an idiot. He got Lady and the Tramp because of the whole Big Dog, Little Dog thing. Lady and the Tramp is us.” She blushed.

“Awwww, well then it’s cute. I thought that he just liked the cartoon or something.” It’s shocking that he doesn’t have your name or something on him.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Does he and you just didn’t show me?”

“No. But… he’s mentioned wanting to get a tattoo of me over his heart. I don’t know how he can. His chest is an erogenous zone for him.”

“His… OK! That makes all those hickies on his chest make more sense now!”

“Those what?” Her eyes were wide. How the heck did Henry know that she’d put hickies on Jasper’s chest? They DID discuss their sex life!

“I saw hickies all over him one time, senior week and he wouldn’t say anything about it to me. And scratches on his back. Is his back an erogenous zone too?”

“No. I just used to have a real problem keeping control of myself when I was finishing. But, he actually likes that kind of stuff, so win-win, I guess. Why are we so casually discussing this?” she wondered.

“We’re friends and it’s normal.” She nodded. She hadn’t really thought to discuss stuff like this before outside of Jasper, but it came out surprisingly smoothly when talking to Henry. She was able to talk a little more about things with him. But, they wouldn’t be able to see each other in person for a while. Their schedules were simply too demanding. She hated it, but it was one of the things that she’d mentally prepared for whenever she first left home.

Women make up 56% of the college population. 25% of college seniors are virgins. 32.5% of college relationships are long distance. 1 in 4 college students have an STD. 63% of college women hope to meet their spouse in college. By senior year, 72% of college students have hooked up. ⅓ college students have been on fewer than 2 dates. Quick Facts: One of the top reasons college students break up is cheating. College students prefer short-term, casual relationships over long-term relationships because it allows them to focus on their academic and career goals. Most college couples break up around spring break, summer vacation, and right before winter break. 28 % of married college graduates attended the same school, but only 2% of North American marriages are comprised of high school sweethearts.

With numbers like that, it was really easy for me to believe that with Jasper’s personality and follow through that we couldn’t possibly be a part of that 2%. And even if we had been, what about those other stats? How much of it would be applicable. Wouldn’t one of us hook up with someone? Wouldn’t someone cheat? Wouldn’t we break up? For a first time relationship to be the last one that you’ll ever have, these possibilities become more or less likely dependent upon what stage in the relationship I was in. It was a fluctuating scale, to be honest. But, by junior year, I definitely felt like I was in a confident place.

Jasper makes me proud, all of the time, His thinking has become much more critical. His plans make more sense. His ability to manage his time has improved. He’s been calling himself a “Textbook Leo,” which has been annoying, because the traits that you didn’t see before, it’s like he tries to make sure that he has them now. That’s fine for some things. Silly for others. But, he’s very focused and he’s going to be a very accomplished man. I believe that with all of my heart.

One of the last times that Henry was able to visit was whenever Charlotte first moved into her new apartment after Rush Week. Jasper helped her to pack, but got the pledges to move all of her things. The apartment that she found was closer to Jasper, in a nice sized townhouse style apartment within walking distance of the frat house, but of course, the guys had to go to another side of town to grab her things from her previous dormitory. Jasper’s little brother was responsible for overseeing - making sure nobody damaged or tried to steal anything, holding on to the keys of her dorm, and personally handing them to her after her things were cleared out and he’d locked up. Charlotte liked him. She was the reason that Jasper had selected him and he was closer to her than to Jasper, but only because it was hard to get close to Jasper, especially now that he believed himself to be a king.

Henry helped Charlotte to unpack, wishing that he still had that hypermotility. Dang, that would have made this a breeze. Charlotte had a lot of stuff and she was very particular with how she set things up. One area that he was intrigued by looked like a shrine of sorts, with a shelf in the middle, and she hung a photo of her and Jasper above it. “What is that?”

“My gift center,” she said, setting things there from a box marked Gifts From Jasper. “I keep stuff that Jasper gives me in an exposed and visible area. It helps the room to have a good attitude.” He made a confused face, but didn’t want to even ask. “I can feel the energy in these gifts, because I know the motivations and the emotions behind them,” she explained.

“You becoming all metaphysical on me?”

“Not all, but I definitely feel like… energy is something that can be manipulated by certain objects and intentions. Like, you ever meet someone and you can just feel that something is off about them? That’s how I was with Casper and I was absolutely correct about her, even though for a whole year she was nothing but pleasant to me, I knew that there was some negative vibrations there.”

“You do like tarot cards and stuff?” He asked.

“No. I don’t know enough about that area of spirituality and I honestly don’t feel like committing the time to learn.”

“Dang. I was gonna ask you to do a reading for me,” Henry joked.

“We can go to one. There’s a girl in the BSU that does them. I feel like she’s the real deal. She grew up in Louisiana in this matriarchal witch family. Though… I don’t know if witch is the right word. I can’t remember what she said. Jasper might, though. He’s fascinated by that stuff. They have an entire segment on the radio show for African spirituality and diaspora practices.”

“I… we should get a reading, just as a gag.”

“You don’t do it as a gag!” She complained, shaking her head.

“Okay, we can do it for real, then.”

“Well, I’ll have to see if she’s available. She has an online business, where she prepares spells and herbal roots and oils and jewelry and stuff. I’ll check her prices for the readings.” She grabbed her phone and Henry kept unpacking. They were bringing the empty, broken down boxes to the recycling bin whenever Jasper’s truck pulled up. They heard him before they saw him. The truck was always so loud, but it was old and cheap, so that was why he had it. He didn’t want to spend a lot of money on something that he only planned on driving for now. Charlotte began buying her reliable but affordable car in high school. She made regular payments on it to try to help build her credit and by the time she was ready to leave for college, it was paid off. It was a metallic gold hatchback and had horse decals on it. Jasper’s big orange truck had all kinds of bumper stickers and window stickers that he’d peppered it with. Henry turned up his nose, “Why is it orange?”

“That was the cheapest thing that he could find when he was looking, and he loves it. He says that he’s always gonna have orange vehicles, now.”

“WHY?”

“Probab;y because he’s an attention whore,” she said.

Jasper had a pretty booming speaker system in the truck and was blasting music, because that helped him not to hear the troubling sounds that the truck made. He turned off the car and got out with a little box, “Hey, Henry!” he said and waved at him. “Chef’s Kiss…” He slid the box to Henry and wrapped his arms around Charlotte. “Did New Henry give you your keys?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Did who?” Henry asked.

“His little brother,” Charlotte said.

“His name is Henry too?” Henry asked.

“No,” Charlotte said, but left it at that and asked, “What’s that?”

“A homewarming present,” Jasper said and took the box back. It made tiny whimper sounds and she noticed it had holes in it.

“Housewarming, and Jasper, is that a living creature?”

“You don’t have a house. You have an apartment, and no..” he opened the box and said, “It’s TWO living creatures!” She looked to see two very adorable puppies with collars and tags… “Lady and the Tramp!”

“Wow. All I got you was a cake.”

“I prefer cake,” she said, then to Jasper, “Jasper, you cannot just give people responsibilities as a housewarming gift! I don’t have time to raise two dogs!”

“I’ll be here like everyday. All you’ll need to do is be happy to see them when you get home.” She bit her thumbnail and stared at him, displeased. That was what that face was. He knew that much. He handed the puppy box to Henry again, pulled out his life goals journal, unlocked it and made an X on the list, which made Charlotte smile, in spite of herself. “I am willing to take on all of the responsibilities parts of them. I’ll make sure they’re fed and clean and…”

“You need to make sure that they know how to use the bathroom before they are moving in here, Dude. I’m not cleaning up dog poo from any surface of my new apartment.”

“That’s fair,” he said. Henry was already petting the boxed puppies and taking photos when Jasper reached for the box. “I’m gonna let them run around in the back of the truck while I’m here. That’s where I got the dog house, anyway.”

“The…” Charlotte looked and saw the doghouse that she didn’t know where the heck he thought that he was putting in her apartment. She turned around and went into the apartment, leaving both dudes and both dogs outside.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell her that they’re both girls because I couldn’t find a male Schnauzer for Tramp. I don’t think she’ll like me naming a girl Tramp, but it’s symbolic.”

“I don’t think that Charlotte likes animals,” Henry said, climbing into the back of Jasper’s truck. “And, she seems more like a cat person, right?”

“She just doesn’t have the time to raise them, but she’s gonna love Lady and the Tramp, once they’re ready to be civilized.”

“She didn’t love Katelyn. She barely acknowledged that she was alive and Katelyn was effing adorable.”

“She took care of Katelyn all of the time! You just weren’t there to see it,” Jasper fussed.

“Why are you getting pissed?”

“I’m not. I’m just irritated that you’re acting like you still know her better than I do.”

“That’s not what I’m… I’m sorry. How are you doing? What season is it for your sports?”

“Wrestling season is October until March. Boxing events usually begin in March. I have Dodge-a-leen practices all year, but tournaments are late spring, usually. Thinking about reviving kite disc for good on campus and just having it be among frats and stuff. I miss it, but I had to give it up. I’d give up anything for Charlotte.”

“Is… that why you felt like you had to give me up?” Henry asked. Jasper gave him a look. “I just felt like we could all still be friends. Whenever you left for college, you were really on this ‘of course we’ll still be friends’ thing, but we haven’t talked out what happened.”

“What’s there to talk out? I apologized and you said, NBD.”

“I said NBD because you apologized, but that doesn’t mean it was resolved. Especially because you told me that I never reached out to you, then when I did, you weren’t available,”

“So, I was supposed to wait for you to decide that you had some need for me? I have things to do, too. Maybe I’m not saving Swellview, but I’m not sitting around waiting to mean something to you, either.”

Henry set The Tramp down and clasped his hands together, “I’m still the same dude who was willing to give up Kid Danger for you. I’m still the same person who took on a full shift at Cactus Con so you could be on a date! I’m still…”

“You’re still the dude who was having wet dreams about my girlfriend right before we got together and acted like I was being an asshole for not wanting you to sleep in the same bed anymore!”

“Okay. Okay. Well, I apologize for making you feel uncomfortable…”

“Being friends means respecting boundaries. This is the woman that I plan to marry. Your friendship makes me uncomfortable, but that’s not why you and me fell out. You and me fell out because whenever I expressed to you how I felt about it, you talked to me like I was a dumbass, and you accused me of mistreating Charlotte!”

“You were mistreating Charlotte!”

“That wasn’t the way to say it! When I’m trying to tell you what I don’t like or don’t want to happen and you respond that way, it makes me feel like not only did you not care about my boundaries, but you used her pain to try to attack me because you didn’t like me setting those boundaries! And… That’s just fucked up to do to both of us, yet I’m the only person who apologized for my behavior that night. I’ve been apologizing to people for standing up for myself for too long. I know myself better and I deserved better.”

Henry nodded his head and collected Lady to pet her and help him feel better. “That is a lot to process. That makes sense. I think you’re right and I never realized any of that before now, because we didn’t talk about it. But, no matter what kind of dreams I had about Charlotte years ago, mind you… I’d never try to do anything with her and even if I had, she’d shoot me down and probably clobber me. She’s been dickmatized by you since Day 1.”

“I don’t like…”

“I mean, she’s been enamoured with you. Most of the time we talk, it’s about your relationship and how much she loves you. I envy that and I would love to have that with someone, but that someone would never even cross my mind to be Charlotte. And I will sleep in my van before I make you feel that uncomfortable again, or before I won’t hear you out when you’re telling me about boundaries, or before I go without just kickin’ it with my bro for all this time. I’ve got an empty spot where you’re supposed to be, in here, Dude.” He pointed all of his fingers to his heart.

Jasper smiled and said, “You know how she got into her whole energy/vibrations thing? She was researching what Jasper meant, because she had this idea to gift me some Jasper stones and she wanted to know more about them. So, she read somewhere that Jasper is the “Supreme Nurturer,” a stone of grounding and stability, providing comfort and security, strength and healing. Its presence balances the aura to a level of wholeness and peace, and acts as a reminder that one is not here on the physical plane simply for oneself, but to bring joy and substance to others… and she said, “Babe… That is SO you!” And I cried and I started looking for the perfect ring… and she started looking into stones and energy and all that stuff.”

“She’s right, though, That is so you. Why do you think I miss you so much?”

“I missed you too.. I just couldn’t let go of my pride until you seemed like you really cared about what I was trying to tell you that I cared about.” They smiled at each other, then hugged it out.

“So… Did you find it? The perfect ring?”

“No. I think I may have to have it made.”

“Does she know that you’re looking?”

“I haven’t confirmed anything, but she’s the smartest person I know, so maybe.”

“Well, I won’t say anything, but damn it, I’d better be included on however it happens… Unless it's a private just you and her typed thing.”

“I’m trying to find the perfect way too…” Jasper admitted. “When you’ve been doing great things for somebody for a while, it’s hard to outdo yourself.”

“Yeah, the stuff that she brags on you about, I honestly don’t know how you can possibly top them, but you keep doing so, so…” Henry shrugged and sniffed around, “What is…”

“LADY!” Jasper said and Henry looked down at the puppy who peed on him.

“That’s awesome…” he said, sarcastically.

It was good for Jasper to have Henry back, The dynamics of their friendship had definitely changed, as Jasper was less determined to lay himself down for Henry, but he still loved him and having him and Charlotte around when it was time to meet his dad was encouraging. It was a 4 hour drive, so Charlotte drove the way to get to Henry and then Henry drove the rest of the way to Mr. Dunlop’s place.

Whenever they pulled into the address that had been given to Jasper online, the first thing that Jasper did was take the dogs to make waste. Henry and Charlotte were going to take them for a walk while he met up with his dad and not be too far away, in case he had to call on them.

Charlotte was carrying Lady because, “She gets excited and runs off too much,” but, they both had leashes, so Henry was confused, but didn’t bother.

Charlotte kept looking at the house, no matter how far they got from it and checking her phone. Henry realized that she probably was in protective mode. Whenever she thought her Jasper was in trouble, she was one feisty little woman. “Hey! Remember that time that Ray punched Jasper out and you came in and on sight, beat him up with your backpack?” She gave him a blank stare, unsure of why he was bringing that up. He smiled awkwardly. “That was funny to me… Albeit, terrifying.” He shut up.

“Trample, where you goin,’ Sis?” Charlotte said and Tramp turned around and came rushing back to her. “Here,” He said, handing Lady off to Henry.

“Last time I held her, she peed on me.”

“Dude, that was months ago.” Charlotte said, dismissively and picked up Tramp.

“They can walk and we have leashes, why do you keep holding them?” He asked.

“The musty lady in the apartments let her dogs free run beside her and one of them got hit by the public bus!” Henry gasped in horror and cuddled Lady close to himself. “Yeah. That public bus near the apartments is scary. I don’t want them to get used to just running around, unless I live somewhere with an open area and minimal vehicles. A college town is kind busy for that.”

He nodded, “Okay, okay… But… We’re not in town right now and I haven’t seen any vehicles since we got here. Let’s just let them use these for now and if something happens, we pick them back up.” She nodded and let him put the leashes on the girls and walk them. “Are you worried about Jasper, Dude?” Whenever she was worried, she was a little more high strung. She nodded. “His dad seems like he wanted to meet him. I think it’s probably going well.”

“Yeah, but… Jasper just got to where he’s able to balance his issues out with his current situation and I just don’t want anybody shaking him up and throwing him off of his center.”

“That’s not gonna happen as long as he has you. From how I understand it, you’re his center.” She took a deep breath and looked at the house again. “Let’s go back and see if we can check on him,” Henry suggested.

A dark skinned woman with a huge afro, in draping, colorful clothes and a lot of jewelry opened the door and smiled at them. Charlotte and Henry glanced at their car in the driveway, then the house, then the woman. Charlotte asked, “Is… Is Jasper Dunlop here?”

“Yeah, he’s here.” She said and opened up to let them inside. “They’re in the meditation room. Mind taking off your shoes? Also, we’ll bring the dogs out back. It’s fenced in and covered. Hawks won’t get to them.”

“Hawks???” Charlotte shrieked.

“Hawks WON’T get to them,” Henry repeated. “Thank you,” he said. “She’s kind of an anxiety mom.”

The Black woman said, “Well, I can make you some relaxation tea. It was helpful for Jasper. Passionflower with a little lavender and chamomile. You’ll calm down and also sleep like a baby tonight.”

“I… Are you a witch?” Charlotte asked.

“You can say that. I’m a healer, a practitioner of Hoodoo herbalism, tribal holistic care and divination.”

“Oh! Like your friend from Louisiana,” Henry said to Charlotte.

“They have a deep history with spirituality and healing in Louisiana, but I’m from Oklahoma. Descendant of African slaves and Native American slave owners, if you can believe it.While we were recently expelled from tribes as members, you can’t illegalize blood, therefore the magic of all of my ancestors is within me,” the woman said, nodding her head as she released the dogs from their leashes and helped them through a doggie door. “I began to seek out the meanings of my dreams and found a mambo who connected me to my roots. I began practicing, only first to see if I really had a gift, then years later, as a believer. It’s how I met Jack Leigh. He wanted help from some things and a friend told him about me. But, then he saw me and forgot what he wanted help with and asked me on a date, instead.” She laughed.

“I can see why,” Henry said.

Charlotte mumbled, “I can see why Jasper’s mom hates me.”

The woman shook her head, “Is there anybody that woman doesn’t hate?”

“Herself?” Henry tried to guess.

“I wish that were true. That’s where she has to begin her healing and until she does, none of her intentions will be corrected.”

“Are you Jack Leigh’s wife?” Henry wondered.

“I am so sorry! I never introduced myself. Adanna Blackfoot.” She shook both their hands and led them to a sink in the little side area of the kitchen that looked out into the backyard. Charlotte could see the doggie enclosure. There were all kinds of plants and flowers growing on the fence surrounding them. The three of them washed their hands and talked a little while. Charlotte was fascinated with Jasper’s stepmom, though she said she didn’t feel that was a fair title, because she only knew Jasper from afar and word of mouth. But, Charlotte still wished THIS was the woman who’d raised her man. He’d be so much more in love with himself, and not just faking it. They eventually made it to the meditation room and Jasper was happy to see them. “Sorry, was I taking too long?”

Charlotte met him with a hug and a kiss, “I was worried about you, but Adanna eased my mind.”

“She and Uncle Rox would be great friends,” Jasper said.

“Uncle Rocks?” Jack Leigh repeated, confused, because Jasper didn’t have any uncles by that name.

“My uncle Roscoe,” Charlotte said.

“Roscoe Bolton?” Jack Leigh asked. From their faces, he could tell that was who they meant. “Wait a minute… You mean to tell me that your fiance is The Bolt’s niece?”

“Uncle Rox just became infinitely cooler because he is known as The Bolt. Say more, right now!” Jasper said, excitedly. Charlotte was more on the we all just glazed by that F word, huh?

“Hell, The Bolt introduced me and Adanna! What’s he up to? I haven’t heard from that fool in years.”

“Still a fool,” Charlotte and Henry said, but Jasper had said, “He’s the best!” Charlotte looked at Henry and said softly, “So… did you hear him say…”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Okay. Tell me something,” she said and laughed a little. Fiancee? Was that how Jasper had described her? Because… YEAH - they most definitely were most likely gonna get married. She certainly hoped so, but they hadn’t discussed it in a solid form yet. It was more like how kids discussed graduation… an event that you look forward to and you know it’s happening and even have certain elements and dreams about it that you must include. But, not knowing what college you’d attend, what your GPA will be, what major you would choose. It was like, sure marriage was a real possibility, but it wasn’t something he’d asked her to do or something she had started preparing for - things that she associated with being a fiancee… Everybody was looking at her and she rewinded her mind a little to try to recall what they’d said in the background while she was in her thoughts. Think he’d mind if I got his contact info? “Uh, no. I’ll give him a call and verify, though…”

“Small world,” Henry said.

“It’s a huge world, but everything is definitely connected,” Adanna said, pouring the new brew of tea for the additional guests.

At some point, after a lot of laughter and stuff, Henry said, “Hey… Adanna, do you do like readings?”

“Not professionally,” she said. “I’ve limited it to friends and family, loved ones, for personal reasons.”

“Oh,” he said, sadly. “Char and I have been trying to make an appointment with her friend, but our schedules never line up with her available spots.”

“Well, for the two of you, of course, I would.” She said and smiled, getting up to retrieve her cards. Charlotte was staring at Jasper, still thinking about the F word and wondering what happened before they made it in. He’d definitely been crying at some point. He had his ‘crying bags’ under his eyes. He was in good spirits now, but she wanted to know what went on when she wasn’t there to protect and comfort him. He looked back at her and made a confused face. He was wondering what she was thinking about. She mouthed ‘I love you,’ to him and watched the smile on his face beam. “I’m so lucky,” he said out loud. Jack Leigh smiled at the two of them. Beautiful couple. Wonderful boy. He’d really messed up missing out on shaping him.

#A Chasper Fic #chasper #henry danger #hd fanfic #Nesha HD Fics

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