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stitching-in-time · 20 days

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Voyager rewatch s4 ep24: Demon

I think I've actually never seen this one before! If I ever did, I've forgetten everything that happened in it, because it was totally new to me on this rewatch. I didn't like it much though. While I think the basic premise is good, the way they wrote the crew bothered me to the point that it pretty much spoiled an otherwise cool and creepy episode.

It starts off with Voyager shutting down all non essential systems as their power runs out. When they go looking for needed deuterium on a dangerous Class Y 'Demon class' planet, Harry and Tom take a shuttle to go collect some. Right off the bat, the writing felt off- when Harry suggested taking a shuttle to the planet, with Tom standing next to him, I was sure the next line would be Tom offering to go with Harry, but instead they had Harry press Tom into it, and Tom seemed bothered by it, which is incredibly out of character. From the very beginning, Tom has never hesitated to risk his life for other people, and from the moment he met Harry, he was his insta-bestie that he had to protect at all costs. There's no way Tom would ever let Harry go on that mission alone, or be annoyed at going with him. Idk why in season 4 they're suddenly trying to turn Tom into a douchebag, especially when they're making him obnoxious in ways that are completely opposite of his established character traits. I also feel like Tom and Harry's friendship got dropped a bit this season, and when they do give them scenes together, they're kind of juvenile, and involve a lot of rivalry and taunting that's out of step with their generally supportive mutual admiration society bromance.

And then the scene in the hallway and turbolift where Tom seems surpised that Harry spoke up in a staff meeting was also weird- Harry speaks up at staff meetings all the time?? They have Harry go on to say that he's a grown up big boy now who isn't afraid to speak up for himself, but Harry acting younger and more timid is a very recent thing. In the beginning, he wasn't afraid to make suggestions, or even disagree with the Captain on occasion- it feels like they've been making him act younger and less experienced this season than he ever did in the three seasons before, and it's just kind of a puzzling choice. It seems a little odd that they're trying to make it out that speaking up is progress for his character, when it wasn't even an issue until just now. Once again, not the greatest writing.

And then when Tom and Harry get down to the planet, they have them ribbing each other about being out of shape- which is not only out of character for people from a supposedly utopian future, but genuinely mean on the part of the writer to fat shame actors in an actual script of a TV episode. Garrett actually mentioned several times on the Delta Flyers podcast that the writers and producers would tell them that they needed to lose weight, so obviously that was hurtful enough to stick with him over 25 years later. I guess it isn't super surprising, given how Hollywood is obsessed with looks, and especially thinness, and god knows they shoved Jeri Ryan into a corset even though she was so skinny already. But it feels like a new level of low to write lines to force actors to body shame themselves on camera. What's wrong with you Ken Biller? And what's wrong with everyone else who thought that was okay and let it stay in the episode? Obviously Hollywood culture is super toxic, but Star Trek is supposed to be better. Good grief.

Anyway, aside from the awful dialog, the scenes on the planet are very creepy and atmospheric. I know it's just their usual paper rocks planet set, but the eerie red lighting, and the steam jets, and a glowing red sky backdrop all did a great job of making it look hellishly hot, yet still somehow weirdly beautiful. There's a feeling of Tom and Harry being watched by something even before we see anything, and it's very creepy when Harry gets pulled into the silver puddle they were collecting deuterium from. It's a pretty scary way to go to a commercial break with them both collapsing in their EV suits with their oxygen having run out.

Meanwhile, back on Voyager, we have a subplot of everyone needing to camp out in centralized locations so they can shut down life support on parts of the ship to conserve energy. For some reason, Tuvok won't let Neelix bring his extra pillows and blankets and a book to read, which doesn't really make any sense- how can it possibly make a difference to read a book or use an extra pillow??? It doesn't use up any more of the ship's energy! It was just a random 'let's have Tuvok and Neelix disagree with each other' scene that didn't add anything valuable. And then we have Neelix and the Doctor in a competition to be the most annoying when Neelix decides he wants to camp out in sickbay, and the Doctor objects. It's supposed to be funny watching them try to make each other miserable, but really it just shows off their worst traits- the Doctor's disdain for other people's feelings, and Neelix's inabilty to respect other people's boundaries. It's just unpleasant to watch them act like bratty children and be obnoxious to each other. At the very least, when there's an actual medical emergency, Neelix leaves sickbay just like he said he would, and the Doctor seems surprised that Neelix doesn't hold a grudge against him for his behavior. Apparently the Doctor is such a jerk that he's surprised when everyone else isn't as petty as he is.

In the meantime, they've landed Voyager on the planet, and when they lose contact with Tom and Harry, a concerned B'Elanna asks to go down and help look for them. Chakotay says no because he thinks someone with a cool head who isn't so close to them would be a better choice, so B'Elanna tells him to take Seven, because Seven doesn't care about anyone always has a cool head. Chakotay and Seven go down to find them. We have another eerie planet scene, where Chakotay ends up being rescued from falling over a precipice by Tom, who's somehow still alive, and not wearing his EV suit. Tom and Harry both seem able to breathe normally in the hostile atmosphere, and when they bring them back to Voyager to find out why, neither of them can breath regular air, and have to be put behind a forcefield filled with the planet's atmosphere.

While looking for clues to what happened, we get a rare treat of a short scene where B'Elanna and the Captain get to do science together, and they discover that the silver liquid they collected deuterium from has bio-mimetic properties. Eventually, when they discover the real Tom and Harry unconcious but alive in their EV suits on the planet, they realize the Tom and Harry in sickbay are bio-mimetic copies. The copy versions think they are them, and can't explain what they really are, until Voyager starts to get surrounded by the silver liquid, and has to repel it to break free. The particle bursts they use tp repel the liquid also negatively affects the copy people, and Harry's copy starts to remember and explain what he is and where he came from in an attempt to get Janeway to stop. He tells her that the silver liquid is alive, but never experienced sentience until it encountered the away team, and took on their forms to experience it more fully. They want to keep Voyager there so the liquid can copy more of them, and experience life as sentient creatures, but Janeway explains that they have to go back home, no matter what. Copy Harry protests and pleads to be given the chance to live, and Janeway realizes that they copied Tom and Harry without killing them, so she suggests that the crew can give them DNA samples to copy if they're allowed to leave in return. Copy Harry agrees, and the last shot is Voyager leaving a duplicate crew behind on the planet.

It's a very weird but kind of cool premise, though I'm not a fan of the sequel episode we got out of it, all the more so now that I've seen the first one- there's definitely some major inconsistencies between the two. But the weird characterizations bothered me more than anything, and kept this from being what could have actually been a very good episode.

Tl;dr: A cool, creepy sci-fi premise that got spoiled by bad characterization and mean spirited writing.

#star trek: voyager #voyager rewatch #rewatching star trek #star trek voyager

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in-tua-deep · 3 years

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idk if you still do au ideas but what if delores was a real person in the apocalypse? how it woul dbe done i have no idea but i love all your aus and thought it would be cool

okay okay I don't tend to go for real!Dolores aus admittedly because I find her much more compelling as what she is: a reflection of five himself and a symptom of his crushing loneliness

but i started thinking about it and you know what?? i think five deserves a little socialization, as a treat

so say like, 0.5% of the population is resistant to abilities. Allison would really struggle to rumor them, Five wouldn't be able to jump with them, and, most importantly, whatever the fuck Vanya's ability does has like, reduced damage or something

and the og apocalypse isn't the moon apocalypse, so let's say that it was pure waves of Vanya's powers that fucked over the earth

so 0.5% of the population survives the apocalypse. though, let's be honestly, the real number is a lot smaller than that. People who might have survived Vanya's initial power wave (miraculously) did not survive buildings crushing them or survive the car/plane/bus/train/other transportation crashes or survive being left alone when they are too young to reliably look after themselves, or the variety of other problems that come with 99.5% of the population dying at once

So, Five arrives in the apocalypse and is met with ruin and fire and a whole lot of dead people. He finds his siblings, but it doesn't matter. They're dead. He doesn't even recognize them at first, these strange grown-ups who he identifies not by their faces but by the umbrellas on their wrists that match his own

As he realizes the full impact of his situation, he hears a voice that says, very succinctly, "holy shit!"

It's a girl a few years older than Five himself, maybe 15 or 16, and she is very excited to see another survivor.

And here's where I u-turn this au around bc i'm not all that interested in real!Dolores, but I would be down to talk about Five meeting survivors in the apocalypse, because if Dolores is real I don't buy no one else survived.

So Dolores shows up and see a Literal Child crying over the corpses of his family and assumes that Five is a fellow survivor, and she immediately grabs him up. Five is incoherent with grief at this point anyway, so he doesn't even protest when she basically hauls him away from the bodies. She's babbling at him, but he doesn't really hear anything she's saying

And then she takes him to her dad

(Why not, let's have the 1% potentially be a heritable thing)

and her dad, let's call him just some dad name. like Rick. it has been a fucking WEEK for him, okay. he had his daughter with him, his ex-wife is on the other coast for her work, and by some miracle he survived the apocalypse and so did his child, and he's been wracking his brains trying to figure out what the fuck to do next

and then his daughter shows up with a traumatized thirteen-year-old in tow

now rick is a good dude. he's a dad. they get out of five that his name is five ("what the fuck" dolores mouths to him over five's shoulder and rick can't help but agree) and the bodies he found were his siblings ("Dad and Ben and Vanya weren't there though," this child cries desperately and rick feels his own heart clench in response, "They might still be alive!")

"We can look for them." Rick assures his new adopted child, because he is an adult in a fresh apocalypse and this kid has presumably lost everything he's ever known (more than rick even knows at the time)

and they do. They each get wagons and they go out and find supplies and look for other survivors. Five is... surprisingly helpful and also surprisingly docile as he is able to rely on Someone Else to give orders while he attempts to (dissociate) process what the fuck has happened

and here's the thing: Five prides himself on being independent, sort of. He's independent for a child soldier, but he's used to taking orders from a male authority figure and Rick happens to be just that

The first time that Five does something dangerous and Rick yells is a revelation

(Rick isn't sure if he hopes that Five's dad is alive or not, because if they find that man alive then Rick might just kill the jackass himself. Also like, Five is bizarrely knowledgeable out survival skills, like way too knowledgeable about it, which is helpful for them but also very concerning)

they find a newspaper and Five finds the article that mentions his father's recent death ("Huh. Heart attack." Five says, and there is no emotion in his voice)

(Years later, years later, Five and Rick talk. "I don't think I wanted to find him, either." Five admits, softly because Dolores is asleep, "I think I was more scared of finding him alive than I was of finding his body. He would've been so mad at me, I think.")

this newspaper is how Rick and Dolores find out about Five being Number Five, Umbrella Academy Missing Person

"Dude, what the fuck." Dolores says, wide eyes, "You're like, thirty?"

"I'm thirteen." Five says, and then checks the date on the newspaper again, "Also I think I would technically be 29 if I lived through all of it, 'cause it's April and my birthday is in October."

"You... time travelled?" Rick asks, which is honestly the more relevant question, "Can you go back?"

And Five just,,, crumples on himself. Because he tried, he tried really hard. It didn't work. "I'm gonna figure it out. I'm gonna go back, I'm going to save them."

That, Rick thinks, is a lot of weight to put on one person's shoulders, but especially the shoulders of a child.

"Alright." Rick says, because what else can he say after finding out his new child has superpowers and is from like, 2004? "What do you need?"

("Oh my god I have so many memes to teach you." Dolores says later, reverently. Five blinks in confusion and Rick mentally prepares himself for the recitation of so many vines)

And it's easier, somehow. Five sometimes feels like it's a betrayal, but he settles into apocalypse life with an ease that surprises him.

He lets Rick fuss over him and help tie his scarf securely around his head every morning before he sets off on supply runs with Dolores. And they're kids! Five has never had a friend before, and Dolores is funny and smart and she's struggling just as much as he is.

"I don't know if my mom's alive." She says to him, in solidarity when he checks the face of every corpse to see if they're Vanya.

Five is practical in the way only a child soldier can be. He's economical with the room in their wagons, carefully examining what might and what might not be useful.

Dolores, on the other hand, constantly takes up space with what Five sees as useless shit.

"Excuse you," Dolores says, shoving a game of monopoly, the entire discworld series, and a pack of glitter gel pens into her wagon, "These are absolutely vital apocalypse supplies."

She challenges him, plays with him in a way no one ever has. "I bet you I can find more batteries today than you can," She grins at him, "Winner gets to pick dinner first?"

"You're on." Five says, directly before Dolores pulls two packs of 24 AA batteries from behind her back, like a cheat.

Dolores makes him take a ten minute break when they find a playground that has been mostly not-destroyed. They rummage around kids backpacks and mother's handbags for some good loot, too numb to corpses to even be bothered all that badly about the corpses they belong to.

"I'm getting on the swings." Dolores says when Five starts making noises about moving on, "I haven't been on a swingset in ages."

"What's the point?" Five grumps.

"Don't be sour because you can't swing as high as I can!" Dolores laughs, getting higher and higher as the swings creak ominously.

Five grumpily gets into the other swing and grudgingly kicks himself back and forth until Dolores takes pity on him and teaches him how to properly move his legs and body to get higher and higher.

Dolores jumps from the swing seat and lands with a flourish and smile. Five jumps out of his seat and then jumps, warping right in front of Dolores and making her yell and hit at him in outrage. Five smiles the widest he has all week.

This is how Five grows up in the apocalypse, with Dolores teasing him into taking breaks and leaning over his shoulder to look at his math and scandalizing him by stating that she'd only just started on matrices in her own high school math class.

Every night they huddle around Rick while he picks up whatever book Dolores picked out that day because it is a travesty that Five has never read hunger games or whatever, and then they read together because it would be a genuine blood bath if they all took turns. The first time Five accidentally mentioned a spoiler and Dolores genuinely considered murder was the birthday of this tradition

Some days the air is too smoky or there are dust storms or it's just plain too dangerous to go out, and they all stay in. Dolores regales Five with stories about public school, and Five tells them about his siblings.

Then they all cry

"I shouldn't be crying." Five sobs.

"Shut the fuck up," Dolores sobs back, "You literally watched me lose my shit over remembering my shitty eighth grade dance and listened to me sob-sing toxic for like four hours."

"In fairness I also wished you would shut up then."

"Let me hug you or I will start singing songs that I only remember the chorus for again you absolute fucker."

"I could always sing some -"

"No, Rick/Dad."

And Five grows up. Rick shows him how to shave very carefully in front of cracked mirrors. Dolores teases him every time his voice cracks. Rick tells Five in no uncertain terms that he loves and cares for him, and that Reginald was a little bitch. There are a lot of heartfelt conversations around that, honestly. Rick telling Five that he and the siblings deserved better, that they were children and deserved to have a childhood.

And that he has faith in Five. Rick and Dolores both do, they bring him back paper and pens and pencils and chalk and anything Five can use to write equations. They poke around any libraries for books on theoretical mathematics and quantum physics. Rick and Dolores go out scouting for food while Five stays home and can work longer.

They also make him take breaks, make sure that he's looking after himself.

They're a little better off than OG!Five when it comes to food, because some animals survive. Enough that Rick figures out how to hunt. Five is the first one to each bugs, and even though Dolores makes faces they all start eating bugs as well.

"Pretty sure there's loads of cultures that eat bugs." Rick says grudgingly, wondering if he should try stirfry the cockroaches and if that would improve the taste. "There's even, uh, cricket flour or whatever, right?"

"Plus you eat like, five spiders a year when you're asleep." Dolores says cheerfully, just to watch her dad's face scrunch up in displeasure.

"That doesn't sound true, but I don't know enough about spiders to dispute it." Five mutters, and Dolores gives him such a proud look that it makes him roll his eyes.

They're in their thirties when Rick dies. He's out foraging and hunting, and the rubble he's standing on gives way and he ends up with a gash in his leg. He manages to stop the bleeding, but the world is filthy and they don't have any antibiotics.

He gets an infection.

"It's okay." He tells both of his kids, "It's okay. I'm just so glad that you guys have each other, y'hear? I'm so glad."

"It's not okay." Five says, voice thick and choked, "It's not."

"Yeah, well, you're going to figure out how to go back, right? Go back in time and save everyone. Then I'll have never died, right?" Rick smiles, "And even if you don't, I'll be waiting for you on the other side and we'll see each other again anyway."

"I'm going to fix it."

"I know. I have faith in you, Five." Ricks says honestly, and that's more than Reginald ever said.

They sit quietly together while Dolores is out scavenging. They've been taking turns sitting with Rick.

"I won't remember you, in the past, will I?" Rick says rhetorically, but Five answers anyway.

"I don't think so."

Rick hums, "Well, doesn't matter. If you need help in the past, you come to me, y'hear?"

"You won't remember me."

"Doesn't matter. You come find me, and you tell me your crazy story until I believe you, and then I'll help you." Rick says firmly, "You're family. You're my son. Timelines? Don't matter. If you need help, with anything, even if it's just with - with filling out a bowling team or something -"

"I have never been bowling in my life and you know it." Five interrupts, but it makes him laugh just a little bit which was clearly Rick's intention.

"Well who knows what you'll get up to in the past! You'll be able to go bowling, you know. Get to wear those uncomfortable shoes. Hey, you go far enough back maybe you can go to Dolores's tenth birthday party and put me out of my misery."

"Was she bad at bowling?"

"Oh, she was wiping the floor with me. No contest."

"Honestly, that sounds absolutely accurate."

"Shut up, bowling just wasn't my sport. Regardless, the point was that I'm giving you a free pass to come and get me. Because I know you, I know how you think." Rick brings up his hand to tap his finger against Five's forehead, "You get it into your head that you need to go it alone, take it all on your shoulders. I'm telling you that if you do that I'll somehow manifest my memories and come smack you over the head for being stupid, you hear?"

"I'm not dragging you into anything." Five says firmly, "I'll have my siblings."

"Who were also children." Rick points out. "And dragging? Dragging is such a strong word for a volunteer."

"A volunteer who won't remember volunteering." Five shoots back.

Rick just shrugs, and then winces when the movement jolts his bad leg. "Five, I'm going to be honest with you here. And sappy. Can you handle a bit of sappiness for a minute?"

"No."

"Well too bad. Can't leave a dying man, you'd feel too bad. So you're stuck with me. But you listen good, okay? Because you aren't dragging me into anything. Whatever life you have, I want to have a part of that. Because you're my son. Wherever you are, whatever you do, I want to help because you're family. What you'd be doing by leaving me out of it is depriving me of someone I love, depriving me of knowing one of the best kids I've ever known."

"Shut up." Five says, choked.

"Nope, it's sappy time." Rick states, "Maybe asking you to come find me is selfish, but I don't care. No matter what version of me exists, I want to be in your life."

"My life is a walking joke, why would you want any part of that?"

"It has been my privilege to watch you grow up. To help you. To be here for you. Of course I'd want to be there to watch you grow up the rest of the way."

"But -"

"Shut up, just let me tell you that I am so proud of you. You never give up, and your heart is so big. You love so much and so loudly, and it's been the highest honor of my life to be included in your family."

Five pauses for a moment to collect himself before simply saying - "You're the best dad I've ever had."

Rick snorts, "Considering my competition, I'd sure hope so. That bar was so low old Reggie was practically limbo dancing with the devil. Now get over here and give an old man a hug."

They don't bury Rick, when he dies. They don't have time and the ground is too hard and they don't have the heart to move him. Instead the pack everything up and seal him in the shelter they'd lived in.

Dolores pulls out a bottle of ancient nail polish and painstakingly writes Rick's name on the wall with his birth year and an approximate current year. They aren't 100% sure though, since time blends together out in the apocalypse, but it's something.

They continue by themselves. They get older.

Dolores jokingly calls him her husband because the way his face scrunches up makes her cackle. They see other people very occasionally, usually passing through. Usually groups. Dolores and Five get to flex their hosting skills, though more than one group declines their cockroach stirfry.

("It's a family recipe." Five says with amusement in his eyes that usually manages to drown out old grief.)

"Jeeze, that kid couldn't have been older'n twenty-three." Dolores complains, "Makes me feels positively ancient."

"They wouldn't have known any world 'cept for the apocalypse." Five muses, pouring some boiled water into wine glasses because they might be living in the apocalypse but they can be fancy.

"Do you ever think about that?" Dolores asks, turning to him with no judgement, just curiosity. "When you go back, you'll be like, erasing them from existence."

Five shrugs, "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe this place will just split off into an alternate timeline."

"Maybe none of this is real." Dolores says, amusement coloring her voice. "Maybe you aren't talking to a real person at all. Maybe this is just a symbol of your insanity and cracked mind."

"Dolores, I literally have a scar where you stabbed me. Did I somehow manage to stab myself in the back?"

"Scraped you, I scraped you. By accident."

"So you maintain." Five says haughtily, swirling his water in his wine glass like a pretentious prick.

"I could totally be fake. You don't know my life."

"I know way too much about you, Dolores. Like, way way too much." Five scoffs, because Dolores and him have literally no secrets from one another at this point. Five even knows the truth behind what happened at Janet Scranton's thirteenth birthday party. Like, he said, way too much.

"Maybe you made it up. Maybe that's why you know so much."

"Dolores, I'm going to be honest with you right now." Five presses the tips of his fingers to his chin, "If you were a figment of my imagination, you would be so much better at math."

"Hey!" Dolores squawks indignantly, "I didn't even get to finish high school you pretentious prick!"

"Neither did I!"

"You didn't even go to high school, you brat."

"I'm fifty-two I think I've outgrown 'brat.'"

"Tell that to your attitude." Dolores says haughtily, "You're still younger than me."

"Won't be when I go back in time." Five says cheerfully, completely ignoring Dolores's venomous look.

"That's cheating."

"Sucks to suck." Five says loftily, taking another sip of his water.

Sometimes they talk about The Plan, with capital letters. What Five is going to do when he goes back in time, depending on when he pops out. Is he going to adopt his siblings? What about Reginald?

"You don't think I could kill Reginald?" Five says, holding a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"I think you should let me do it. I'll even give you control of tonight's music if you do."

"What are you doing to do? Bite his ankles? What if you're like, seven or something?"

"All the better to get away with it since I'll be too young to convict or whatever."

"Pretty sure that's not how the law works."

"How would you know? Just for that I'm playing Istanbul on repeat again."

"I don't know why you think that's a threat. That song slaps."

It takes a few more years before Five is close enough that the Commission comes to interfere. Because that's what I think happened - Five was getting too close and they stepped in because they might as well distract the man as much as they can with missions, right?

So the Handler shows up. And she offers Five a job, telling him that they have the ability to travel through time. And Five - hesitates.

"Give me some time?" Five asks, and the Handler graciously gives him 24 hours.

And he and Dolores talk it over, because now that his goal is more in sight than it has ever been and Five is scared.

"What are you waiting for? You have the chance to see your siblings again." Dolores says patiently.

"Yeah," Five says, and what he doesn't say is clear. But I won't see you.

"Five." Dolores says, and she cradles his face between her palms like he is something precious, "I have had so much time with you already. More than I would have ever. We have been so lucky, to have this time. How can I demand more than what we have already been given?"

"When have you ever not demanded the world, Dolores?" Five asks, his own hand coming up to cover Dolores's own.

"We've had decades together, Five. We're getting old. I was always going to lose you, one way or another. Nothing lasts forever."

"I don't want to lose you."

"I know. But if I had to choose a way, if I could decide where our story ends, this would be it. Letting you go, because this way you get to live. You get to see your family again. You get to save the world. I could ask for nothing more than for you to get your happy ending."

Five removes Dolores's hand from his cheek so that he can cradle it between them, "I'm happy here with you. I've never been happier. Isn't that silly? That I was happier in the apocalypse?"

"I bet killing Reggie would make you happy." Dolores laughs rustily.

"One day you're going to see the mysterious disappearance of a famous billionaire in the paper and feel a twinge of satisfaction and now have a clue why." Five laughs as well, shaking his head.

Dolores pats Five's hands, "Five, look at me. We've had our time. And you're going to give me even more of it. More time with my father. More time with my mother. I'll never know it, but you'll have saved me."

"What if this is - what if this is an alternate reality? What if I leave you here alone?"

"Then you'll be saving a 15-year-old girl from the same fate as me. Because as much as I love you, as much as I have loved this time we have had together, this is still an apocalypse. This should never have happened, and if you have a chance to go back and prevent it, then I want you to take that chance with both hands."

"Even if it means leaving you alone?"

Dolores smiles at him, "I'm not going to be alone. Far too many creepy crawlies in the apocalypse for that."

"Shut up, I'm being serious."

"Hmm." Dolores hums consideringly, "Maybe I'll head North, to that new settlement that last group said they'd heard word of. Sure they'd find some use for an old woman who's survived this long in the wilderness."

"You can have my half of the record collection." Five says, pulling her against him into a hug that she easily returns.

"As if I wouldn't have stolen them as soon as you left." She scoffs, but it's a little wet, and Five pretends his own eyes aren't leaking tears.

When The Handler comes back, Dolores gives him another hug. She also slips something into his pocket - some photos. They'd taken it a year into the apocalypse, when Dolores had found an ancient looking polaroid camera and towed it home despite Five's protests about practicality. The photos are worn and faded at the edges, but the smiles on Five's little apocalypse family's faces are undeniable.

"You'll have to see if they magically fade when you change the timeline." Dolores whispers to him with a grin, "Like in the movies."

"Okay." Five whispers back.

"You have the list of movies to watch, right?" Dolores says. Five rolls his eyes and nods because he wrote the list last night into his Vanya-book while Dolores hovered over his shoulder and critiqued his handwriting.

"And you promise to try a proper non-expired twinkie at some point?"

"That I do not promise. I think even looking at one would make me lose my lunch. I have twinkie-trauma."

"Shut up and get going." Dolores says, because the Handler is starting to tap her foot impatiently.

And off Five goes to become an assassin. Though - he's much more gentle this time. He's careful, he doesn't kill children and he usually takes jobs that don't require killing at all. He distracts and manipulates events as much as he can without killing.

He's actually much more well socialized, thanks to Rick and Dolores. Less feral child and more determined man on a mission.

Which is why he's so frustrated when he finally, finally manages to get the equations to work and falls through and falls - directly back into his stupid thirteen-year-old body.

"Shit." Five says, loudly, and revels in the surprised look on his siblings faces.

He strides into the kitchen, and they all follow him like ducklings. They look exactly the way they did when they died.

"Wow this is actually way harder than I thought it would be." Five muses, looking at their dead faces. But as Dolores would say, life is hard but you have to keep on trucking sometimes. "Whatever, what's the date?"

"Five, where have you been?" Diego demands, looking irritated. It makes Five snort in amusement.

"The future. The past. If you want like, an exact list of dates you'll have to hold your horses. I spent like, two weeks in Peru once. No souvenirs though, unfortunately."

They look taken aback, like they didn't expect Five to have quite this much sass. Oops. That is definitely Dolores's influence. Or maybe he was always a little asshole. In fairness, what teenagers aren't tiny assholes? He has an excuse.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Diego's eyebrows are furrowed in anger. It kind of takes Five aback for a second, because he remembers a Diego who stutters when he argued.

"When did you learn the fuck-word?" Five asks, raising an eyebrow before her can help it, "Grace ought to wash your mouth out with soap."

Diego immediately goes red, "Shut up!"

"Wow you're so easy to rile up. Aren't you like, twenty-something? Actually, I could figure out for myself how old you are if you gave me the date."

"I'm twenty-nine." Diego growls, like that was the point.

"Haunting!" Five says cheerfully, because that means there is way less time than he would like, narrowing his time down to a six month window.

It's extremely funny how his cheer makes all of them make faces.

It's Klaus who leans forward, "Why do you need to know?"

Klaus's face is open and curious and - (looks exactly like he did when Five found him all those years ago) - and Five can't help but answer him. "The world end on April 1st, 2019. No it isn't an April Fools joke, yes I have heard that joke like a million different times. I just want to know how close I landed so I can, you know, start working on how to fix that."

"Woah woah woah, roll it back." Allison says, holding a hand up, "What?"

"The apocalypse occurs on April 1st, 2019." Five says, slowly. "I have traveled from afar to prevent this from happening, because like, everyone dies."

"Everyone?" Vanya says weakly from the side.

She's clearly expecting to be ignored, so Five turns his head to address her directly by wiggling his hand back and forth a little. "Sort of. Like, not too many people survive at all. A handful of the human population, you know."

"But you survived?" Diego recovers admirably, if bitingly.

"Well, no." Five says rolling his eyes, "Wouldn't you just know it, Klaus here has managed to figure out a new ability!"

Everyone turns to look at Klaus, who immediately holds up his hands like he's being arrested or something, "I did not!"

"Wonderful! Now that we've established that I'm alive -"

"Why should we trust a word you say?" Luther says for the first time, looking pensive.

Five blinks, genuinely taken aback. "Because... I'm your brother? Because I can clearly and obviously time travel? Like, yeah, it would have been more convenient if I'd arrived in like, my old-body for proof-purposes, but like. I mean. Thirteen is still a pretty convincing age to be to prove time travel considering if I hadn't, I would be like, almost thirty."

"Roll it back again." Allison says firmly, "What do you mean by 'old body'?"

"Great question!" Five says pointing at Allison and smiling. Everyone looks at him weird again, and Five takes a moment to wonder if they've ever experienced positive reinforcement. Knowing Reginald, probably not. "Wait! Is Reggie alive? Wait, no, answer that in a second. Uh. When I time traveled I fucked up my body I guess, I was like, old. White hair and wrinkles-type old from spending decades in the apocalypse. But I fucked up the calculations and got booted back to my thirteen-year-old body, I guess. How, I have no idea."

"What?" Vanya says, still equally weakly.

"You have no idea how fucked up time travel is." Five whispers conspiratorially to Vanya, loud enough for the whole table to hear, "There are so many ways to die. Or permanently tear a hold in space time. But like, with life as we know if ending soon-ish, I figured I couldn't possibly fuck it up worse than it already was, y'know? Speaking of, anyone have the date again?"

"Wait, what was that about dad?" Luther asks, very focused.

"Oh, you still call him dad? Big oof." Five says automatically, because apparently his verbal filter is shot to hell after living with Dolores. It does make Klaus bark out a too-loud laugh.

"What does that mean?" Luther asks aggressively.

"It means Reginald sucks and doesn't deserve the title of 'dad,' what did you think I meant?" Five asks, and now both Diego and Vanya and both cracking smiles, though Vanya is covering hers with a hand.

"Have some respect for the dead." Luther growls, standing up and looking very large and threatening.

Five sways back, craning his head up, "Woah there big buy, sit down before I injure my poor growing spine looking up at you. Jeeze, did Reggie force feed you steroids or something? I wouldn't put it past him but like, I just want to know he at least went over the side effects of the drug with you. Also like, thanks for narrowing it down. Also terrifying! Seriously though, exact date please because if I have less than 24 hours I am going to break down crying and that is a threat."

"I love this Five." Klaus says reverently.

"March 21st." Vanya offers, finally.

"Wow! Terrifying!" Five says, clapping his hands together, "Hate that. Ten days, huh? Well, who wants to get on board the save-the-world express?"

Klaus immediately flings his hand in the air, Five points at his brother appreciatively. "Yes, excellent! I'll take the volunteer in the lovely skirt as my first team member. Any other volunteers?"

"Danke!" Klaus simpers, grinning widely like this is the vest entertainment he's had in weeks.

"I'm not just going to stand here and listen to you badmouth dad and boss us around." Luther slams his hands on the table.

"Well not with that attitude." Five snarks.

Diego raises his hand, "I would like to join team fuck dad as well."

"We can certainly debate team names later." Five says, nodding wisely as Luther gives some sort of scandalized gasp.

"Honestly, I just want to see where this is going." Klaus confesses.

Five shrugs, because he doesn't really care about the reason. "Don't you want to prove me wrong them? Prove what a well-adjusted young man Reginald Hargreeves raised?"

"Shut up." Luther grinds out, looking a moment away from throwing a punch.

"If this is all true, I have to get home." Allison cuts in, looking concerned, "I have - I have a daughter."

"I mean, if you want to give Claire a world to live in then I'd stick around, but that's just me." Five shrugs.

"You know her name?" Allison asks, obviously taken aback.

Five is almost offended, "Uh, yeah. I have her photo as well. Y'all get on like, a bizarre number of gossip magazine covers did you know that?"

Allison manages to outdo herself in terms of being taken aback once more.

There's a beat of silence, and then Five turns, "Vanya? You in?"

"Me?" Vanya blinks, looking shocked. "What can I do?"

"Yeah, what can she do?" Diego asks, crossing his arms and suddenly looking grumpy.

It baffles Five, who scrunches his nose, "Uh, like, a lot? I assume? I mean. I'm going to be honest here, just looking at y'all right now is a lot. In more ways than one! Hashtag trauma and all that, but like, name a single one of you that wouldn't be the most obvious person in the room as soon as you walked into it. Except Vanya, who somehow manages to look like a well adjusted adult, by some miracle."

"Did you just verbally say the word hashtag?" Allison asks, looking so deeply confused.

"More concerned about the trauma he tacked onto there, but y'know, to each their own." Klaus immediately cuts in.

"You think I'm well-adjusted?" Vanya asks, looking oddly touched.

"I would like to direct your attention to Diego's leather pants-scowl combo and Luther's general aura of daddy-issues." Five says pointedly, "I can practically smell the tragic comic book backstory in this room. If I'd jumped back a decade earlier this would have been Batman's wet dream of orphan selection."

"Alright! Game plan!" Five says, waving Diego's knife in his hand.

Diego's hands immediately go to his weird harness looking thing, "Hey!"

"Give me just one moment to get the tracker out." Five rolls his eyes, "Then I'll give it back, I promise. Also if someone could ask Grace for like, some antibiotics that would be good."

"What?" Allison asks, directly before Five stabs himself and there is suddenly panic at the table.

"Relax!" Five says, allowing Diego to remove the knife from his hands. He doesn't need it anyway and his hand immediately drops down to root in the wound.

"Five what the fuck!" Diego yells, but Five just pulls up bloody fingers and waves the tracker into Diego's stupefied face.

"What the fuck is that, Five?" Allison demands, looking very shaken.

"I literally just said it was a tracker." Five points out, "Now, I think our first team activity should be voting on whether we destroy it or take it out to bumfuck nowhere and ditch it to confuse the Commission."

"What the fuck is the Commission?" Diego barks.

"Man. Maybe I should just hit up Rick." Five muses, "This is going to take so much explaining."

"Who is Rick."

"So much explaining."

#survivors au #well adjusted five au #five actually has some social skills!#and an idea of what an actual parent looks like as well #klaus absolutely adores this version of five #who quotes vines and uses gen z slang with the best of them #five has been reliably informed that public education is worse than the apocalypse #but he's also pretty sure working with his family is worse as well #five: i have so much trauma lol #klaus: oh big same #vanya: mood #five is somehow the most well adjusted hargreeves #and the most responsible #he doesn't legally exist and he doesn't pay taxes but somehow he has his shit together #five showing up at rick's house: you don't know me but i know you in the future #rick: what the fuck #five: don't make me bring up bethany midler from highschool because you gave me so many embarrassing stories to convince yourself with #rick: okay okay i believe you and you are???#five: your son from the future lol what's up dad want to help save the world #five arriving back at the manor like: WHAT'S UP LOSERS RICK IS NOW YOUR DAD TOO BC GOD KNOWS Y'ALL NEED AN ACTUAL FATHER FIGURE #klaus calls rick a dilf and five kidney punches him hard enough that klaus can't even properly introduce himself #it's better for everyone that way #delores: 15 and ready to fuck someone up #delores: i'm not staying with this weirdo (diego) while you go off with my dad #five threateningly: don't make me bring up what really happened to dad's good suit in 2012 #delores: i will stay right here #rick: wait WHAT happened to my good suit #five: unimportant don't you want to save the world #long post #far tua long

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nyotasaimiri · 2 years

Text

Arc Two (redux) 12

The old hylotl shopkeeper brought them refills; when Marcy tried to pay, she just shook her head and whispered “On the house,” the fluid syllables of her own language somehow comforting against the weight of the words between them. Nyota tried to smile, and managed a clumsy but heartfelt Thank you in reply.

“It’s okay if you want to stop talking,” Marcy said quietly. She held onto Nyota as tightly as she could, as if she was afraid the apex would vanish or crumble if she let go. Perhaps she wasn’t wrong.

But Nyota shook her head. “You did ask,” she replied. She almost winced, hearing how thick and strained her voice was. “And I have more to say, if you want to hear it.”

“Of course I do.” Marcy squeezed a little tighter for a moment before leaning back to look Nyota in the eyes. “I just don’t want you to push yourself too much. You always do, I know…”

Somehow, despite everything, that made Nyota laugh. “I do. But I’ll be alright.” She picked up the new smoothie and swirled it slowly, staring at the street outside. It was still bright out, mid-morning, though few wanderers seemed interested in stopping down this particular road. A small floran child was playing with a leafy snake under the awning opposite the smoothie shop. It felt so normal, but so out of place against the memories playing through Nyota’s head.

“I don’t know how long I was out,” she started, speaking slowly so that the words wouldn’t fall out of her and leave nothing in her head at all. “I fell asleep as the ship left Earth’s atmosphere. When I woke up, it was orbiting a little garden planet in the Mimosa Strand system, and there was a weasel on my chest.”

Marcy made a strange noise, pinched her nose, and set the smoothie down. “Wait. A weasel?”

“You can laugh. It is funny.” A fond smile crept through Nyota’s grey mood. “I still have no idea how it got onto my ship, but it has grown very attached to me, so it can stay. It helped a lot, before I met my crew. Remarkable how something so small can do so much to keep someone sane.” She paused, remembering how much she had talked to herself, and amended that to “Debatably sane.”

“Have you never had a pet?” Marcy’s eyes went wide and she started to apologize as soon as the words left her mouth; it had always been an unspoken taboo, asking about Nyota’s past.

Nyota just shook her head and put a hand on Marcy’s shoulder to stop the apologies. “You can ask now. It’s not going to offend me.”

Marcy opened her mouth like she had another question, but just closed it again, hesitated, and took another drink of her smoothie.

Nyota frowned just slightly, and answered the unasked question to bury the awkwardness before it could set. “No, I never had a pet, not that I remember. I moved around too much to take care of a small animal, and there was always the risk that I would not come home from work,” she explained. Perhaps a pet would have done her some good, but back then she couldn’t bear the idea of having something utterly dependent on her. It was still hard. “My parents may have owned one when I was a child, but I remember almost nothing from back then.”

She caught the concerned knit in Marcy’s brow and tried to smile it away. The expression came out thin and only a little fake. “It was more than twenty years ago. Memories fade.”

They both knew that Nyota’s memories didn’t.

“So what did you find on that planet?” Marcy asked to fill the silence that followed. “Was it inhabited?”

“It might have been, once,” Nyota told her, glad for the cue. The weight between them stretched heavily across her. It had not been like this since her first year on Earth. She did not want to think that all it took was a few months’ separation to lose years of closeness. “There was a mine down there, and a ruined house or two. I built a shelter in a covered bridge, since my ship wasn’t suitable for sleeping, really. The FTL drive was damaged from that jump away from Earth. I am lucky SAIL managed to get it somewhere with breathable air.”

“No kidding… But how did you get off the planet? If your ship was damaged, you couldn’t exactly fly away.”

Nyota took a deep breath. “Bear with me here,” she said. “This is where it begins to get strange. I found a gate on that planet.”

The tension vanished. Marcy leaned forward, eyes wide. “A gate? What sort of gate?”

Nyota closed her eyes, looking for a specific memory of a book she had seen once. “In your library, there was one book you were very fond of,” she began.

Marcy laughed. “That could be any of them.”

“True,” Nyota admitted, echoing Marcy’s grin. “But this one was quite old. It referenced a theory about ancient builders, and gates they had made across the universe. You had been exploring that theory as a way humans could have reached their moon before FTL travel was discovered, yes?”

“Oh! Yes, though I think that option was disproved, since there weren’t any on our moon,” Marcy said. She stopped as the realization hit. “Wait. You found one of those gates?”

“I did.” The almost childlike excitement in her friend’s voice drew a genuine smile to Nyota’s lips, and an idea widened it further. A good idea. And a chance to see Marcy smile again. “Would you like to see where it led?”

#arc two #repost

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janetbrown711 · 4 years

Note

“ there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe” yakko dot Wakko

“What do you mean we can’t stay here anymore Yakko?” Wakko asked his older brother. Yakko sighed heavily. Wakko was six years old now, and Yakko had originally hoped that meant he’d be able to get a grip on things and make his life easier, but his hopes were in vain.

“I mean the orphanage is being shut down by King Salazar, so we have to go somewhere else,” Yakko rubbed his forehead as he folded blankets and put them into bags.

“Why? He isn’t really king, dadoo was,” Wakko frowned, and Yakko shot him a look.

“Wakko- how many times have I told you not to say things like that,” He said in a harsh whisper. Wakko lowered his head and muttered an apology. Yakko sighed. “King William and Queen Angelina the Second died two years ago, and King Salazar took his place.”

“Why does he want to shut down an orphanage? Doesn’t he have important things to do?” He asked.

“You’d think that, wouldn’t you?” Yakko scoffed. He looked at his younger siblings and sighed again.

“King Salazar isn’t a good man. He’s very greedy, and wants to put up a different shop here because he doesn’t want to fund the orphanage anymore,” Yakko explained.

“But we don’t have anywhere else to go, doesn’t he know that?” Wakko huffed and crossed his arms. Yakko tried to think of a response as his eyes went to Dot, who was running around chasing a butterfly that had gotten inside somehow.

“I know that Wak... but there isn’t anything we can do,” He shrugged and continued packing.

“There has to be something,” Wakko kicked the ground and thought.

“Wakko, there just... isn’t. Not everything can be stopped,” Yakko touched his younger brother’s shoulder. Wakko didn’t respond, looking at the ground intensely as he thought.

“C’mon Wak, we have to go,” Yakko said, tying up the blankets and what little clothes they had into one blanket that he slung around his shoulder. He called to Dot, and she ran on over, beaming up to him with the confidence and joyfulness that only a naive two-year-old could possess.

“Wak.” Yakko said, becoming impatient. Wakko sighed and kicked the ground, muttering, but Yakko didn’t particularly care, and the warners left the now empty orphanage.

“Where we go?” Dot asked her eldest brother.

“Somewhere else, but not too far, Acme Falls is home,” Yakko said, bluffing his confidence. At least he knew some of it was true; no matter what, he was never going to leave Acme Falls. His mom told him to stay there, that was where he was going to stay. He couldn’t risk him and his sibs getting recognized, he couldn’t afford to lose them too...

“I want to go back,” Wakko huffed again. Yakko groaned internally, getting very tired of the wave of moodiness that had overcome his brother.

“We can’t go back Wak, I just explained that to you,” He stated, avoiding looking at a few of the townsfolk who were shooting them looks of pity.

“I want to go home,” Wakko stomped. Yakko stepped back.

“Wakko, we don’t have a home. We don’t have anywhere to go,” Yakko said for what felt like the millionth time in two years.

“Why can’t we go back and fight for our home?!” Wakko shouted, angrier than before. Yakko’s eyes widened, and he quickly scanned to see who was watching before he pulled his brother by the collar of his shirt into an ally, and Dot followed closely behind.

“Wakko, where on earth are you getting these ideas?” Yakko harshly whispered.

“Those stupid stories you tell Dot-”

“Hey!” Dot protested but was ignored.

“-talk about brave princes who fight evil. Why can’t we? King Saladbar-”

“King Salazar is a grown-up, and very, very powerful. We couldn’t fight him if we tried.” Yakko put his foot down.

“C’mon, in Dot’s stories it’s always the little guy. We could fight him,” Wakko said proudly

“Yeah!” Dot agreed with his enthusiasm, not really grasping what he was saying.

“Not ‘yeah’ Dot, that’s a very dumb idea,” He told her.

“You said good people always fight for what's right and to protect what they love,” Wakko scowled.

“Of course they do Wakko, it’s just-”

“Then why don’t we fight?!” Wakko seemed outraged now and Yakko really, really hoped no one was listening in to any of this.

“Because you’re just a kid Wakko. You can’t fight,” Yakko said.

“Not true- I fight Dot and I win,” Wakko crossed his arms.

“She’s two, she doesn’t count,” Yakko rolled his eyes. “And besides, I am protecting you two.”

“Faboo job so far,” Wakko muttered under his breath, but Yakko heard it clear as day.

“Watch your tone Wakko or so help me-”

“Or what? You aren’t Mum or Dad,” Wakko stomped, which made Dot jump and scurry behind Yakko.

“Wakkorotti Alan Warner so help me-” Yakko felt his temperature rise with anger, but he swallowed it best as possible, bringing his fist to his mouth and attempting to take calming breaths.

“Look, I know you’re confused. I’m sorry that the orphanage closed, there’s nothing we can do about it,” He said, looking down when he saw Dot hold his hand. “Just... know that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you- either of you safe, okay? I love you guys more than anything,” Yakko said.

“If you’d do anything to protect us, then why won’t you fight Salazar, huh??? Why did you let him take away our home???”

“Why did you let Mum and Dad die?!”

Wakko’s words felt like a giant bat hit him right in the chest and left him feeling utterly speechless. He looked at Wakko and saw that tears were streaming down his face, and he covered his mouth with his hands. Yakko couldn’t look at him, and he turned around to face the back of the alley.

“Yakko?” Dot asked quietly. She was likely confused from all of the shouting, but Yakko didn’t have it in him to comfort her. He was done.

He could still see his mother in his mind, all bruised and bloodied. He remembered what her soft velvet gloves felt like against his cheek, her soft and tender kisses on his forehead, and he could still hear her cries of agony right before the gunshot that silenced her.

Guilt had wracked his mind ever since that night. At first, he hadn’t been able to sleep, he stayed up for weeks at a time, before exhaustion got to him and he was forced to sleep. He was slowly able to regain control of his guilt, with the help of the local doctor, but it still rested in the back of his mind, like a sleeping dragon.

A dragon that Wakko had just woken up.

“Y-yakko I’m sorry- I-i didn’t mean it,” Wakko was quick to apologize, but Yakko couldn’t look back at him.

He hadn’t gotten to say goodbye to his dad, but he had seen his mother. He could’ve done something, but he froze, he froze, like some idiot and he had gotten caught, and because they saw him they killed her.

It was his fault. He froze, and because of that his mother was killed.

“Y-yakko please, I’m s-so s-so sorry. I didn’t mean it- You did what you could,” Wakko was practically sobbing at his point. Yakko glanced back at him, and that confirmed his suspicion. Wakko took his glance back as an invitation to hug him, and soon Yakko was almost crushed by the strong embrace of his little brother and little sister. Yakko swallowed painfully as he felt a sob of his own get caught in his throat.

“I’m so so so s-so sor-sorry Ya-Yakko, I-i love you,” Wakko squeezed tighter. “

“I-i-” Yakko started, but he couldn’t speak. He knew his siblings didn’t understand, how could they? They were trying their darndest to comfort him, but they didn’t understand. Whether or not Wakko meant it wasn’t relevant, he was right, and the weight of that fact would rest on Yakko’s shoulders for the rest of time. Yakko began to cry.

“You're the best big brother I would ever wish for! I didn’t mean any of that! You love us a whole lot a-and we love you too, right Dot?” Wakko sniffled and looked to his two-year-old sister, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah! Dot loves Yakko!” She said. Yakko couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that. Dot’s way of speaking did that to him.

“Yeah! A-and I love you too! You’re the best big brother and a good prince and a good protector,” Wakko let go of him only to wipe his tears off of his own face. Yakko did the same and took in a deep breath.

“I love you two too,” Yakko said shakily. Wakko bit his lip.

“I didn’t mean it really- It’s Saladbar’s fault, not yours. He’s evil and mean and he decided to attack our home. It isn’t your fault mum and dad gone, I was being stupid,” Wakko said. Yakko nodded slowly, doing his best to take in the words. They almost sounded to elegant to be Wakko’s, but Wakko had a knack for expressing his emotions, something even he, the quote-on-quote “talkative” sibling, struggled with.

“Thank you Wak... just... don’t ever say anything like that again, okay?” Yakko asked him. Wakko nodded his head a thousand and one times.

“I promise, Yakko. I didn’t mean it. Saladbar is the one to blame, I hate him,” Wakko stated affirmatively. Yakko couldn’t help but snicker had his mispronunciation of Salazar, which made Wakko happier.

“While I usually don’t condone hatred... I’ll let it slide this one time. We can hate Salazar,” He said. Dot and Wakko beamed.

“Good, because I really, really hate him,” He said.

“Yeah! Dot hates Saladbar!” Dot shouted, raising a tiny fist in the air and giggling.

“Good,” Yakko smiled at her and took her hand. “I’m glad we all can agree on that.” He went to pick up the bag of their stuff, but Wakko took it instead, and held his brother’s other hand.

“Now, let’s go find us some shelter. There’s got to be something around here somewhere...” Yakko said, and together the little family walked out of the alleyway and began to look for somewhere where they would start the next chapter of their lives, secure in the knowledge that while they couldn’t change the past they did have each other, and that’s all that mattered.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

#animaniacs #yakko wakko and dot #wakko warner #wakkos wish #yakko warner #my fics #dot warner #angst

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kiranogareru · 4 years

Text

VIOLENT BEAUTY OF LOVE

Warning: Mention of blood, death, Hanahaki disease and probably cursing, because I curse a lot, may give you the feels

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

A/n: Tried 3rd person view for this, feedback is welcome! Also, I don't know where I'm going with this, so let's take this journey together😅

Katsuki jolted up in his bed, eyes wide and holding a wild look of horror in them!

His throat feeling like it was being ripped apart from the inside, as the burning sensation of brutal scratches from within began to restrict his airflow!

'No, not again..' he thought in realization as he started coughing

He choked and gasped, desperately trying to force some air into his aching lungs! His eyes welling up and unintentionally staining his cheeks with tears

The feeling was unbearable, the agony making him subconsciously reach for his neck with both hands, in a futile attempt to somehow soothe the pain, but alas..there was nothing that could be done

Katsuki kept his condition a secret, not wanting anyone to think he's weak. He's been dealing with this for months all on his own, fighting it day in and day out and the worst part is he doesn't even know what's wrong with him!

At first it wasn't as bad, so Katsuki brushed it off as a stupid cold, but the symptoms kept worsening and no medication seemed to work

As the all-too-familiar metallic taste rose to his mouth, Katsuki knew exactly what would happen

He pushes himself up and off the bed, planning to run to the bathroom, using the last of his strength, but as soon as he stands, his legs give out and he drops to the cold, hard floor of his dorm, knees scraping upon Impact!

Katsuki is now supporting his weight with one arm and gripping at the collar of his shirt with the other,as his coughing fit continues, until his pain spills itself on the tiled surface beneath him

Y/N was so concerned about Bakugou, he had been missing several classes, he seemed disconnected and tired during most of his training sessions these past few weeks

Losing sleep and performing anything less than perfect on the battle field, isn't like him, in fact it is so uncommon that it became an instant tell that something was wrong with the normally, fierce blonde!

Though the weirdest thing ought to be the unusual aura that radiated off of him. He was mostly calm and very quiet!

Y/N is one of the few people that Bakugou has allowed into his life, he trusts her! They're personalities are very similar and that provides Katsuki with a sense of comfort and understanding!

This lead the duo to become close friends, but without realizing friendship turned to love...the one-sided kind to be exact

Y/N had just woken up to multiple messages from Eijirou, saying how Bakugou sounds sick again

Kiri: Do you mind checking on him? If any of us go he'll feel like we're looking down on him for being sick

Fuck, Eijirou was right, Katsuki would mistake the Bakusquad's concern for pity

Y/N found herself at Katsuki's door, worried at the sounds coming from the other side

She was unsure whether she should knock or simply enter and help him, but his shaky breaths and quiet sobs convinced her to do the latter!

She cracks the door open and pushes it gently, slipping into the room

What she's met with, leaves her in shock, her mind unable to form words at the sight in front of her and her gorgeous orbs prickled with building tears!

Right there on the floor, was a barely conscious Katsuki, lying in a pool of flowers, petals and what she could only assume was his own blood!

Never before had she witnessed a thing so mesmerizing, yet so damn cruel! She didn't even know such a combination could be achieved!

It made her angry that this...this violent beauty of love was possible!

Why did such tragedy, such pain have to befall the boy she loves?

Y/N kneels next to Katsuki and cradles his exhausted form, observing her dear friend closely. His vermillion eyes glassy and puffy, tear-streaked cheeks, blood and petals smeared on his lips and chin!

The saddened, soft expression she was wearing, while gently caressing his cheek, made him wish he could dissapear! As much as he loves being in her warm embrace, he despises the fact that she is there!

Bakugou never wanted her to see him like this, so vulnerable and beaten down, so- so fucking weak! He'd rather her think of him as anything, but weak!

He hated that out of all people, she had to be the one to walk in and catch him at his lowest!

His handsome face, was tainted with pain and she fucking hated that! It made her sick to her stomach, to see someone so strong, look so distraught!

Y/N carefully rested Katsuki's head on her lap, brushing some stray, spiky locks of ash blonde hair, out of his face

She couldn't help but wonder how long he's been suffering for and who could possibly be the cause of the heartbreking disease, the one of unreturned feelings, better known as Hanahaki!

How could someone that managed to win Katsuki Bakugou's heart, throw away their chance and deny his love? It just didn't make sense to her!

Some sort of awkward tension was thick in the atmosphere of the room, as silence spread between them, but she couldn't quite pinpoint why..

"Why didn't you say anything dumbass?" She asked, with a halfhearted smile on her lips, using his nickname for her, in an attempt to lighten the mood

"I can handle it on my own, I don't need these extras thinking they can surpass me just because I'm sick" He grumbled, his voice coming out strained

"You're too stubborn for your own good, you know that?" Her question was clearly rhetorical, since both of them knew the answer

"So...who is it?" She finally questioned, voicing the thought that was stuck in her head

Katsuki gave her a strange look, one that implied he had no idea what the Hell she was talking about!

"Huh?" Was all that left his lips

"Who are you in love with?" She hesitantly asked

Bakugou quickly sat up, his back now facing her, as he suddenly started coughing once again, his breaths shallow and sharp!

She couldn't bare the scene that was unfolding in front of her very eyes! His body was a trembling mess, while he struggled to breath, flowers coated by his blood spattering from his mouth and hitting the floor, like some type of poetic murder scene!

She desperately wanted to help him, but didn't know how, or what she could possibly do!

As Katsuki started to calm down, Y/N went to get some wipes from his drawer

Both teens sat down, this time on Katsuki's bed. She cupped his face and begun to clean him up

"Whoever the fuck said I'm in love? And what does that even have to do with anything?" His voice was hoarse and his tone cold as he spoke

His words took her by surprise, since she was so shook up that she forgot she had even asked him something!

'Did he not know?' Y/N thought to herself

"I figured- because of..the flowers?" She stuttered out, her statement sounding more like a question if anything

"What about those damn flowers?" He spat in confusion, with a scowl on his face

"Katsuki..." She softly spoke, taking a hand of his in her own, her other resting on his cheek "do you not know why you're sick?"

He felt his chest tighten at the contact, but kept an unfazed facade, as he proceeded to lock eyes with her

"Don't look at me like that!" He suddenly snapped

"Like what?" She asked, perplexed as to what she did wrong

"I can see the fucking pity in your eyes!" He growled "It's just an illness! It's not like I'm fucking dying Y/N!" He angrily yanked her hand off of him and looked away

"Katsu you- you are dying..." Her voice cracked and trailed off, eyes brimming with tears, that were threatening to spill

"You have Hanahaki. Look around you, the plant in your lungs has grown so much, that you're coughing up fully grown-" Her words caught in her throat, as she pointed to the blossoms, picking one up to examine it closer, only to discover that these were her favourite flowers, even the colour was right!

"Hanahaki?" Bakugou looked heartbroken "I thought it wasn't real"

He'd heard stories about it ever since he was little, but never knew anyone who had actually experienced it! But apparently life has a funny way of teaching you things

It all made sense to him now! He already knew he was starting to fall for her, but now he also knew how Y/N felt and this only gave him two options!

He could either, suffer a little more as a lovesick puppy, until he dies, or get a surgery that will remove the problem from it's literal roots and risk losing all memory of the girl he loves and possibly the ability to love again!

As he was deep in thought, Y/N turned to him, flower in hand and with tears streaming from her eyes to match her broken smile

"It's not me..it can't be me" She mumbled out, gaze on the floor as she couldn't bring herself to face him

"Y/N it is you! I'm in love with you!" He confessed, his head resting against hers, those lively ruby orbs of his staring at the flower in her palm, while his hands cupped hers

"Please don't say that.." She sniffled, reaching into her pocket with her free hand and pulling something out "I don't want to be the one who did this to you"

She opened her fist, showing him petals of a flower he didn't recognize "I don't want to be the one who hurt you!"

'How could I have been so dense, so oblivious? Of course she loves someone else' Katsuki felt his heart shatter like a mirror, the pain returning, as he let out a sigh and pulled her into a tight embrace

He tried his hardest not to break down in tears, not to let the flowers suffocate him and allow this moment to be his last memory! Just her in his arms!

"Don't cry Y/N, I'll be alright! This is not your fault! I'll get the surgery and I'll be alright!" He rubbed the small of her back to soothe her

"But what if you forget about me? I don't want to lose you!" She cried

"I would never forget about you!" He told her sternly

"Do you promise?" She asked, like a line from some cheesy love story

"I promise, but only if you go into surgery too! I don't want you to end up in pain" He admitted

"Okay, I'll do it" Even though Bakugou tried to reassure her, she feels guilty and is willing to do this if it means he will be happy

As the days passed and the time for the surgery came around the teens went their separate ways, since their appointments were registered in different hospitals, or at least that's what Bakugou told Y/N

In reality he had simply asked principle Nezu if he could visit his parents that day for personal reasons and stayed with them

Mitsuki gave her son a whole lecture, but after he got fed up, he decided to tell her and Masaru the truth...or part of it anyway

Meanwhile Y/N was in another part of Musutafu, lying on an operating table

Two days later they were back to UA, trying to catch up on assignments. Y/N had no recollection of her prior love interest and Bakugou had no intention of telling her that he never went to the hospital!

"Yaho Katsuuu" She greeted, as he entered the kitchen. It was their turn to clean it today

"Huh?" He tilted his head to the side "Which extra are you again?" He asked playfully

Her shocked expression made him laugh "That's not funny!" She pouted "You scared me!" She said, before smacking him on the head

"It was funny to me dumbass" He said as he proceeded to wipe the table

Y/N was happy that everything seemed to have gone back to normal, she loved seeing him smile

But little did she know...

By the end of that same month, Bakugou was found dead in his dorm, which resembled a cursed garden of blood-soaked flowers! Some stems and thorns were coming out of his mouth, while others had pierced through his lifeless chest! The scene was gut wrenching!

Aizawa was the one who found him, after Y/N pointed out that he had never followed the rest of the class out of the dorms

The dorms were immediately sealed, so none of the students could see the traumatizing sight!

However Y/N had a feeling that she knew what had happened to the fiery hero-in-training and she couldn't help but blame herself for it

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #x reader #hanahaki #bnha #bakugou #king explosion murder #dynamight #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou angst #bnha x reader #bnha x female reader #mha x y/n #tw death #tw graphic #bnha bakugou

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ranmanjuu · 4 years

Note

Hey there how are you? This literally just came to my mind how will the warlords react to an mc who sees ghosts / spirits and talks with them?

i’m doing fine, thanks for asking! honestly, this is a concept that i’m very interested in (in fact, i had an idea something along these lines, though not quite, that was one of the factors why i made this blog in the first place) cause of the three ikeseries games i know, ikesen is the one who handles death the most (at least in terms of many lives lost, with war and whatnot.)

and i wish i can expand more but also! i’m Lazy

(disclaimer that the uses of sixth senses and how spirits/spiritual “energy” works here are of my own creation, cause in all honesty i don’t know shit abt them)

—nobunaga:

the ability to see the spirits of the dead, in the modern times, was. . .interesting, to sum it up.

living with it since you were a child, you’ve a lot of experiences that range from dread and scary, to extremely fascinating. in the world of constant normality, to a fault even, it’s a sort of (sometimes morbid) curiosity to interact with those who have passed.

however,,, not many times did you tap into scenarios where you got that close to how that person died.

occasional car crashes, although the ones you were bystander to were strangers to you. those you know who did, never you got to see die in front of your eyes. and frankly, you didn’t want to see it,

however, now,,, the world seems to have different plans for you.

out of all the periods, you were flung back to a war-stricken one. even worst, being practically taken in by who’s known as the ruthless unifier of japan.

it all started from the second day, the first battle you were dragged into. while you tried to block out the death you saw around you,,, the way nobunaga slashed the enemy commander would never leave your mind.

doesn’t help that later on you already saw the fire-like spirit, one that would resemble the man standing near the burning castle. reality set in for you at that moment; you’ll be seeing a lot of these.

each battlefield you were dragged into, you could see the spirits that would wander around, in agony, anger or otherwise. either while the flames of battle were swishing, or afterwards when you patched up the injured soldiers.

and almost each time you sense that anger was the thing that tied their spirit to the physical world (from the enemies, of course), somehow, in any way, nobunaga was a part of it.

and you can see why. you’ve heard stories, from the dead and alive, of the supposed atrocities he’s committed, and if you were honest, it created much more a distance.

perhaps it was because you knew much more clearer, the wishes the passed enemy soldiers would curse him for laying upon whatever damage he had. perhaps that was what would always haunt you, how they described his actions, that made you as tense as you were each time you visited the tenshu.

yet,, you always showed a level of care for him, that was clear the first night you went up to his tenshu to thank him for saving your life.

and slowly, you begin to see the truth of his actions. maybe there was more to him, you thought.

it made you believe much more in non-violence, which was why when the lord presented you with a gun or a sword to take his or your life,

you refused both outcomes.

you wanted to live, a burning desire to survive just like everyone else. but it goes without saying that you don’t want nobunaga to die either. not only rooted in the strong feelings you’ve grown regarding violence, but also. . .

“i don’t think i could bear to see your spirit lingering. i - i just don’t want—”

you let out a shuddering breath as the weigh of the wishes, regrets, stories, anger of the dead wash over you. so many lives have been lost—you feel like you’re simply a bearer, a messenger, for those who have passed.

you can’t even begin to imagine the ghost of nobunaga, whatever weigh he held even after death, and especially if you were the one to take his life.

“. . .what do you mean by that?”

you snap back as you look up at him, and realize that you’ve never really told him of your sixth sense. with a heaving breath, you look down to the gun and katana as you begin to explain.

explaining how you’re able to see soldiers, citizens, everyone, who was caught in the crossfire. both enemies and allies. stories of those who they’d lost, or those who’d lose them. unsaid goodbyes, sworn revenge, all of which were burnt into your mind.

their families, friends, who’ve waited for them, all of those haunt your mind until you feel like you live to tell the tale of the passed. countless nights, as you wonder if you’ll ever meet any of them, and if you’ll ever tell them how they’d felt. all the unsaid words.

slowly, he begins to understand clearer. your want for peace, your absolute disdain for death. the clear suffering you heaved, to honor each spirit.

and maybe, it’d lead to a change in him.

—kenshin:

you always found something. . .interesting about kenshin. you’d learn later that he’s the god of war, the ruthless dragon of echigo that took thrill in the most dangerous battles, but. . .something more to it.

it started when you two where alone in the field, where the fireflies rose as if the stars itself descended down to your presences. such was a sight to behold, kenshin standing amidst it all, having a thousand mile stare, to something lost. no words were said, you were all too mesmerized by the sight.

until, just as the luminescent bugs seem to flicker for just a moment, you see it. someone beside him, faded and clouded, and just as you blinked with a slight gasp, it disappears.

kenshin looks at you, the slight glow shining on his face, the moonlight and fireflies clashing together, “what is it?”

you look into his eyes, solemn and stern. “nothing.” you say, and so, it passes. but it wouldn’t be the last time.

it’s never happened when others are around, you took note. the next time was the night he put you in prison, your distraught was caught off guard last minute.

you see the flickers of a figure again, and this time, it lingers longer. you can see it clearer now. a girl, at around a teenager’s age with long hair. wordlessly, she looks at you with vacant, yet sad eyes, and walks away in the direction of kenshin.

you lean forward against the bars to look more, but. . .she’s gone.

and you keep seeing her, mainly whenever you and kenshin were alone together. hell, you’ve tried to talk to her when the man went away and she lingered, but. . .not even a single word was ever uttered.

as you grew closer and closer to the bunny lord, you’d see clearer his,, overbearing nature towards you, to an extreme needless to say. and soon, you’d learn why.

you listened to the tale and story from shingen, and silently, all the things clicked. that girl,,, it must be isehime then.

returning back to kenshin’s room, once you set eyes, you immediately notice the ghostly figure sitting in the middle. you take a breath, and step in. despite it not facing you, you know it can see you.

“. . .isehime, isn’t it?” you ask, and her head turns to you. with eyes delicately shining, you’d almost see them as if they were alive.

“so you’ve heard.” she answers, a soft whisper.

your eyes land on the ground, thinking, before they rise up to meet hers again, “. . .what is it that bounds your spirit to the living world?” such was a question you’d ask before, and you figured, now that you knew the story, you’ll get an answer.

she gazes at you with deep thought, then turns her eyes to the floor, “i just want to see him move on from what happened that day.”

everything was silent apart from her soft, echo-ish voice. “i know he’d eventually move on from the crush had i lived. and i too, i no longer like him when i was alive. however,” she looks at the clan crest with the same look kenshin had on the night of the fireflies field, “it hurts to see that it haunts him to this day. it hurts—and i can do nothing but watch. he holds a weigh of trauma, and i just—”

her head turns to you, “i just want him to move on. from the pain, the past, all of it.”

and the way she looks at you,,, it’s a look you’re familiar with. as you feel your own weight sink onto your shoulders, you knew, she’s relying on you.

and so it leads us here, now, by a small isolated place in the middle of the woods. you had this night, this one night, to convince kenshin to stop his war against the oda caused by an incident inflicted on you.

in the end, you do. with a promise that you’d stay by his side no matter how dark the road becomes, along with a ripped kimono. . .you hope for a better future for him, with you accompanying him on the rough journey.

through the trees, the faint figure of isehime begins to fade, and with a soft smile on her face, a melancholic look, she whispers to the night, “thank you. i’ll leave him in your hands.”

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luxekook · 4 years

Text

chapter seven.

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 3.6k

⇥ warnings: 18+, lots of cursing, general chaotic energy, poly relationship, a short confrontation, mentions of slut-shaming, switch!reader, dom!joon, switch!jin, sub!jimin, library shenanigans, an abundance of coffee, punishments, spanking, bad puns (jin is in this chapter, DUH), many nerd references uwu

Chapter Seven

Quinn Library – 3:54pm

The end of September passes in a blur of studying, partying, volunteering, and spending time with friends. The month’s conclusion also includes the increasing presence of seven boys in my everyday routine.

Since giving Taehyung the suck of his life in the bathroom of Hannigan’s, I have been basically fighting off the seven of them for a moment to breathe. But, sometimes breathing is overrated when being smothered by affection.

Going from being single to essentially dating seven people is quite the adjustment. I found myself growing attached to them – something that both excited and scared the shit out of me. We haven’t discussed labels or anything, but I figure it’s only a matter of time. The boys have apparently been planning an elaborate first date for this upcoming weekend, and I feel like they’ll probably ask to make it official then.

My stomach erupts in butterflies at the thought, and I take a calming breath. No need to overthink such things.

While it might be unconventional by some societal standards, polyamory is simply a way to love. Why should love come with confines? With binary expectations? The saying ‘love is love’ gets thrown around a lot, but I believe it bears repeating.

Jenni and Luna have been nothing but supportive to me over the past two weeks. They even came with me to volunteer this past weekend because they - and I quote - wanted to ‘check out our vibe’. But, I wholeheartedly expect that the real reason had actually been for them to feel out the boys’ intentions.

Why did I suspect this? Well, because Jungkook had come up to me within the first fifteen minutes at the worksite quivering in fear over how ‘scary my friends were’ and how ‘Jenni had cornered him to interrogate him while Luna hovered behind her, menacingly holding a nail-gun’.

I had never felt more loved and supported by my friends.

My phone dings, and I quickly hasten to put it on silent, shooting an embarrassed and apologetic look around the library. It seems like most people have headphones in, and I let out a sigh of relief. No one wants to be that one loud person in the library.

Checking my notifications, I smile when I see it’s a SnapChat from Hobi in the group chat the boys created a few weeks ago. My thumb swipes it open, and I barely contain myself from announcing to the whole library how vibrantly handsome one of my potential boyfriends is.

I quickly send a SnapChat back of me and my stack of books in the library with the caption ‘send help in the form of coffee’.

Immediately, Taehyung sends a flurry of heart eyes emojis in the chat, Jungkook sends a ‘noona is so cute’, and Yoongi sends back a picture of a black screen with the caption ‘come nap with me’.

God, I would love to nap with Yoongi right now… Alone time with the older boy is so elusively precious. One day last week at their house, I had mentioned wanting to learn piano. Yoongi had just grabbed my hand and tugged me to his room. We had spent a couple hours together in the small corner of his room playing on his keyboard.

Well, he had been playing; I had been fumbling around like a buffoon - half uncoordinated in general and half flustered by how good Yoongi looked playing. His hands had been so nimble as they flew over the keys, crafting melodies I could only assume he had composed. His focus had been so fucking hot as he nodded slightly along to the tempo in his head, his eyes shooting over to look at me every once in a while.

My hand kink? Activated.

My willpower to not kiss the shit out of Yoongi? Nonexistent.

When Yoongi had paused in between songs, I may or may not have grabbed him by his shirt collar and kissed him. His blushing attempt to dodge me had been so cute; and when I had stopped trying to kiss him, he had pouted and then kissed me instead.

What a cutie…

A giggle draws my attention from my reminiscing. At first, I pay it no mind, taking it as a directive to dive back into my studies. But then, the whispering starts.

“I heard she’s fucking her way through the whole house.”

“Isn’t there a term for that?”

“Yeah, a frat rat.”

I slam my 500-page textbook closed and stand, leveling the duo of gossiping girls with a glare that could make grown men cry. It had before when I had to properly eviscerate my uncle in defense of feminism at our last family gathering. What a time that had been.

“Is there a problem?” I force the question through gritted teeth, stalking over towards their nearby table. I relish in the way they gape at me, eyes wide and pupils quivering, “I’m sorry. I’m afraid my complaint jar is at capacity. Please don’t try again later.”

The girl on the right gulps, “No-nope, there’s no problem! We were just leaving. Right, Janika?”

“No,” The girl who had called me a ‘frat rat’ just moments before crosses her arms and stands, “I do, like, have a problem.”

“Janika,” The other girl tugs on the sleeve of the one standing, “Don’t.”

“Yeah, Janika,” I smile, “Don’t.”

I can see the moment she snaps.

“You’re, like, such a fucking bitch! I don’t know what they all see in you. Oh wait, yes I do. You’re fucking easy.”

I consider myself to be a patient person, but having to endure this type of rant against my character - and against women’s sexual freedom in general - has pushed me well past my limits.

“Now, listen here, Janika,” I take another step forward, “You can keep talking your shit. I really don’t give a flying fuck what you think about me. But I really advise you to google ‘how to stop slut-shaming for dummies’ because it seems like you need a crash course.”

Janika’s face darkens, “Whatever. They’ll get tired of you anyway.”

“Yeah,” I let out an amused laugh, “I’m sure they’ll get real tired of me choking on their dicks every night.”

Letting out a gasp, Janika whirls back around to face her silent friend, “Let’s go. I don’t want to, like, be around her any longer.”

“Buh-bye now,”I wiggle my fingers in their direction as they shuffle out of the library.

Smiling in satisfaction, I head back towards my table. Without hesitation, I gather my books and belongings and head upstairs to the quiet floor. Any more distractions or confrontations would probably make my blood pressure pop off the charts.

The quiet floor, as one of my safe havens, is home to several small private study rooms. Peering into each, I start to lose hope that any would be available. Finally, the very last room proves me wrong, and I swing open the door and almost in tears over the sweet, sweet solitude.

This particular study room is tucked away in the very far corner of the library’s second floor. Not many people are aware of its location, and it seems that paid off for me today. Plopping my things down across the table in the center of the tiny room, I follow suit and drop down into one of the two chairs adjoining the table.

What a clusterfuck of an afternoon… This sadly isn’t the first time I’ve heard some comments being made about my association with the BTS boys, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. Yet, part of me knew all along that this would be the trade-off.

After all, what are a few irrelevant opinions to seven gorgeous and loyal partners? Inconsequential - in my opinion. That is the reason why I haven’t breathed a word of the backlash to anyone.

Sighing, I flip open my textbook to where I had been before being rudely interrupted.

The amygdala plays a key role in emotion and behavior…

“Noona?”

I jump a half-mile out of my chair, slapping a hand over my pounding heart. Jimin had somehow managed to enter the room without my knowledge. Had he fucking teleported?

Holding a giant iced coffee in one hand and a cinnamon bun in the other, Jimin beams at me and ignores the fact he just scared the living shit out of me. “Hi, noona! I saw your SnapChat while I was in class, and I came here as soon as I could.”

I stare dumbfounded at the angel before me. Jimin is slightly out of breath with reddened cheeks and a sweaty brow. His black track-pants are slung low on his hips, his long-sleeve white t-shirt clings to his torso, his black duffle bag thrown carelessly over one shoulder. He must have run over straight from dance class.

Standing abruptly, I stalk over to where Jimin is still posted up by the doorway to the study room. Toe to toe with him, I blurt out while still half in a daze, “You really brought me coffee and food?”

He eyes me warily like I might suddenly jump on him at any moment. Shifting his weight back and forth, Jimin hesitantly replies, “Um, yes?"

I take the coffee and cinnamon bun from his hands, place them on the table, and then tackle him with the biggest hug. "You absolute sweetheart!" I murmur into the crook of his neck, "This made my day. Thank you, Jimin-ie."

His hands tentatively wrap around me, pulling me closer. "You're welcome, noona. I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Well, I really appreciate it, baby,” My lips brush over the crevice of his collarbone and relish in his shudder. Bringing my head up to face his, I smile widely at him, “Can I kiss you, Jimin-ie?”

“Yes,” He sighs out, eyes already closing in anticipation. I press my lips to his, still smiling softly against his mouth. His lips are plush under mine, velvety soft. My tongue swipes across his bottom lip and— Is that coffee I taste?

I pull back, “Jimin, did you sip my coffee on your way here?”

The boy looks rightfully alarmed, “I– y-yes. But only a little, noona!”

Cute.

“Hmm,” I trail my fingers down his chest, “I guess I’ll make an exception for you this time since you were the one to bring it for me.”

Jimin relaxes slightly, but his expression is strangely disappointed. I stare at him quizzically, and he blushes.

“What is it?” I lean against the table, facing him.

He clears his throat, staring intensely at the ground, “You can still punish me if you want, (y/n)-noona.”

My eyebrows shoot upwards at his offer, and then I let out a slight chuckle, “Oh, Jimin… That would be a favor to you, wouldn’t it? My baby boy wants to be punished, hm? Did dance practice make you all hot and bothered? Jungkook tells me that has been happening to you lately.”

Jimin’s face explodes in color as he mutters, “That little bitch will pay for this.”

Suddenly, the door swings open with a resounding thud, nearly clipping Jimin in the shoulder.

“Your savior has arrived!” Kim Seokjin announces loudly in spite of the studiously silent atmosphere of the quiet floor. His hands hold two steaming hot travel mugs, which I can only guess are filled with the elixir of the gods (aka coffee).

Seokjin’s eyes glance around the room as he takes in the fact that I’m not alone as he obviously had expected. “Wait, Jimin-ie? What are you doing here?” Jin’s eyes flick down to the coffee and cinnamon roll that lay on the table. “Goddamn it!”

“You were too slow, hyung,” Jimin smirks happily as he takes a seat in the chair I had previously vacated. He slouches smugly as he stares up at the fuming older boy.

“Too slow?!” Jin roars.

“Jin,” I chastise, circumventing around him to shut the door.

“Sorry, babe,” Seokjin says while still glaring daggers at the all-too-pleased Jimin. Suddenly, his expression changes into a sneaky look that makes me both want to run and jump his bones. “Well,” He waves the two coffee mugs around in the air, “I made these myself - with love. I didn’t buy that generic shit; I brewed it, baby.”

It’s Jimin’s turn again to look disgruntled, and I can’t help but laugh at their antics.

“Any and all coffee is appreciated and loved by me – the more the merrier. So, thank you both,” You say, taking one of the travel mugs from Seokjin. Kissing his cheek, you turn back to sit opposite Jimin at the table.

“She kissed me on the lips!” Jimin bursts.

“Park Jimin!” I cry as Jin splutters some sort of incoherent rant about fairness and equality.

Jimin holds eye contact with me, still leaning back in his chair like he’s the king of the fucking universe. But, he’s not; I am.

My chair hits the wall behind me with a bang as I stand, planting my hands on the table to loom over Jimin. “Do you think it’s fun to push your hyung, Jimin? Does it amuse you to be a little shit?”

I can see the moment that Jimin decides to be a brat. His eyes heat up in a challenge, and he firmly answers, “Yes, noona.”

“Get up.” The change in my tone is apparent. Jimin gulps. Getting to his feet, he stares back at me expectantly.

“Jin,” I address the older boy while still maintaining eye contact with Jimin, “What kind of punishment do you think I should give our Jimin here?”

Seokjin rounds my other side, grinning, “Well, (y/n) darling, I believe he should get spanked.”

“Interesting choice,” I murmur, turning to face Jin, “That’s what you’re going to get then.”

“What?” Jin squawks, arms waving rapidly around in the air, “But I didn’t do anything!”

“Nothing is what you should have done, Jin,” I push him against the wall, “You know better than to let Jimin rile you up like this.”

Those plump lips of his pout dramatically as he whines, “But, (y/n)…”

“But nothing,” I say and then whirl around to face the other boy. He’s still standing where I left him with his eyes glued to the pair of us. “Jimin,” I hold his gaze, “You’re going to watch. You’re not going to touch yourself, your hyung isn’t going to touch you, and I’m not going to touch you.”

His eyes widen comically, “No! That’s not fair!”

“Do you want to be gagged, too, baby boy?” I ask, cocking my head slightly. Seeing his emphatic head shakes, I grin. “That’s what I thought. Now, stay.”

Turning back to Jin, I smirk slightly as I ask, “Punishment now or later?”

Seokjin’s eyes scrunch cutely in confusion, “What?”

“You see,” I move closer to him, my body brushes his, “I think you earned a punishment, but I think you also earned helping me punish Jimin.”

A wide grin crosses Jin’s face as he glances back at the corner Jimin is stewing in. “I would be honored to help you punish him, babe.”

“That’s what I figured,” I smile briefly at him before slowly sliding my hands up his chest to rest on the nape of his neck. Holding them there, I press the lightest of kisses to the corner of his lips.

Jin’s breath hitches in his throat.

I run my tongue against the seam of his mouth, taking my time and savoring the sweet taste of him. His lips part to let me in, my tongue sliding across his. I grind against him as we kiss, moving my hips in such a way that makes him groan and lean back harder against the wall.

“What the fuck is going on in here?”

Ripping my mouth from Jin’s, I turn to face the newcomer.

Namjoon stands in the doorway holding yet another cup of coffee, his face thunderous. "What do the three of you think you're doing? This is the goddamn library, you heathens!”

Seokjin jumps out of his skin in fright, pushing me away faster than I can anticipate. Stumbling back, I crash into Jimin – who apparently had ventured out of his assigned corner. Brat.

“The shades were open!” Namjoon continues to rant as he flicks the aforementioned item down to cover the door’s window, “Did you want people to see you?”

He reads the expression on my face correctly, “Oh, but you did, didn’t you, (y/n)?” Namjoon approaches where I’m still captured in Jimin’s embrace. Glaring down at me, he taunts, “So quick to stake your claim; but, make no mistake, they were mine first.”

Shaking out of Jimin’s hold, I straighten, raising my chin to meet Namjoon’s gaze full-on, “That’s interesting. I didn’t realize you were so lenient with your partners.”

Jimin makes a choking noise behind me. Jin stands behind Namjoon, waving a hand in front of his throat to clearly tell me to stop talking. I keep going, “Perhaps I need to teach you how to discipline.”

Namjoon flips me around, shoves Jimin out of the way, and bends me facedown across the table.

“Jin,” He says, his voice growly, “Stand in the hall and let me know if you can hear us.”

The sound of the door opening and closing alerts me that Jin followed Namjoon’s instructions without a word.

“Jimin,” He continues, “Hold (y/n)’s hands out in front of her.” Jimin ascquieces, staring apologetically down at me as he tugs my hands towards him.

“This is cute,” I say, “I always love holding Jimin-ie’s hands.”

Thwack. The stinging imprint of Namjoon’s palm on my ass burns deliciously. I arch my back, looking over my shoulder at him with a half-smile. “Do it harder, daddy.”

A breath sucks in between his lips as I utter the word I know will get him feeling as hot as me. “You’re playing a dangerous game, baby girl,” Namjoon grits out, his jaw clenched tightly.

“Oh, daddy,” I say, “Don’t you remember? I’m the fucking Queen.”

“Was that a chess pun? Nice.” A muffled voice followed by a squeaky laugh sounds through the door.

“Seokjin,” Namjoon seethes, flying over to open the door and drag the older boy back inside, “I thought I told you to let me know if you could hear us.”

I tug out of Jimin’s gentle hold, straighten back up, and then situate myself into a sitting position on the table.

I watch amusedly as Jin shimmies his way out of Joon’s grasp, “Yah! It’s not my fault I get intense FOMO. Don’t hate the player, hate the game. Besides, I only heard you because I had my ear pressed to the door.”

Jimin stifles a giggle. I let out a full-on laugh. Namjoon mumbles what sounds like a plea to some higher power under his breath.

“See what I have to deal with?” Namjoon turns to me, shaking his head. “Are you sure you want to sign up for this?”

“That depends,” I swing my legs back and forth as I stay perched on the table, “Are you going to keep spanking me?”

The boy who had just unhesitatingly bent me over to punish me now blushes and rubs the back of his neck. “I mean, probably? You have quite a mouth on you, baby.”

Hopping off the table, I laugh, “Good answer. Ten points to Gryffindor.”

“Woo!” Jin cheers, “Nice job on the House Points, Joon-ie!”

“I am in love with idiots,” Jimin sighs.

Grabbing my phone from my backpack, I let out a slight yell as I read the time. “Shit, shit, shit, shit!” I scramble to shove all of my textbooks back into my bag.

“What is it, noona?” Jimin worries, appearing next to me. “Are you late for class?”

“No,” I cry, “It’s so much worse. I’m late for my weekly Animal Crossing discord chat! Heath is gonna kill me…”

“Heath?” Jin scowls, “Who is this Heath you speak of?”

“Chill, fam,” I shrug my backpack onto my shoulders and stare contemplatively down at the three different coffees. “You can’t get jealous every time I mention a new person. What’s next? You’re gonna come for Tom Nook?”

Namjoon - who must play Animal Crossing - stifles a laugh as Jin pouts. “She has a point, Jin.”

“And so does a pencil. Big whoop,” Jin scowls with his arms folded.

“Aw, Seokjin-ie,” I coo, reaching over to pinch his cheek, “Don’t be mad. You’ll get to spend all day with me on Saturday after volunteering! What are we doing, anyways?” I level Joon with my best side-eye as I ask that question, knowing he is more likely than not the mastermind behind our planned date.

“It’s going to be great, noona!” Jimin pipes up, hugging me from the side, “You’re going to love it…You’re going to love us.” He murmurs the last part, probably not meaning for me to hear; but, I do.

God, I do.

“We’ll pick you up before volunteering,” Joon says, “Just bring yourself and a change of clothes.”

“What?” I decide - fuck it - and attempt to grab all three coffees, “No overnight bag?”

Jin, who had just taken a sip of his own coffee, spews it everywhere. “Pack one,” He gasps out in between coughs.

Laughing, I walk to the door, which Jimin kindly opens for me. “Okay, I’ll think about it. Ah, I’m so late. Jimin and Jin, I’ll punish you at a later time. Joon, you can try to punish me at a later time.” Living for their astonished expressions, I wave as best I can with three coffees in hand, “Bye, babes! Text me-e-e.”

As I make my way out of the library, it hits me that I only have one more day to prepare for this date. Fucking hell…

a/n: this is such a filler of a chap with a tinge of drama mixed in, hehe. the next one is gonna be that date tho uwu stay tuuuuuuned and thanks 4 reading

taglist: @catsandstrawberries @h5naaa @meowmeowyoongles @leftflowerprunedonut @rjsmochii @athletes-of-god @karissassirak @cage7241 @weallhavesecretsinthebestway @cvbachacbitch @honeyspillings @valiantcollectorofsandwiches @fivesecondsofsarang @oii-f-eli-x2 @joonsroses @theevilyouknow @jooniescupcakes @expensive-grl @i-dont-even-know-fck @doingmybestalltheftime @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh @laced-brds @breeeeh17 @lpayne612 @peachyharmoney @rilakoya @chulchuchi @tabula-rasa0 @guccishookv @nomimits7 @i-like-puppy-mg @s-noir @anna-sorel @im-a-space-child @yeontanismypresident @drowning-in-oxygen @team-wang-puppy @lvvegood @anongirl007 @may114 @r-e-d-i-s-h @unatempesta-dipensieri @dragon-rider-with-a-book @blueberrygeniejam @wondrsblog @vi-hoshi @kirbykook @katemwatson @kawaiikpoplover268 @amsteramyy @sami4life @a-feeling-of-euphoria @the-jackals @bubbletae7 @platinum-grenade @bunnyboyenthusiast @brightly-byun @oofmeintheheadpls @sadboibts @lidda @goldenwidow3 @t-mel19 @lmkjimin @psiphidragon @jeon-joker @sathom013 @lustremyg @ggsmashgg @justyouraveragerando @shadowstark @our-little-meow-meow @baby-hobii @toddsgirl27 @mythicalmeep @asifetch7 @kassandravictoria @eltrain80 @briannasthings @bumblekey93 @ohmwreckr @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @softchimmee @kookoo-kachoo @lenuminous @ass-hole-in-one @peaches-422 @spacejooon @sleepyje0n @uxwi @tellmeyoulovemepls @yady24 @lovesick-heart0 @redirect-min @hopetookourvibe @noonaduck @mini-coop25 @multifandomgirl29 @rhd31 @yoongixvevo @sweetnspicy93 @kuppyjiminie @love-and-other-possibilities @fuckyouandtheboatyoucamein @rvnchr4nd4 @geminidrawsstuff @livorna @naajix @minjoonhome

another a/n: if u asked to be added to the taglist and u did not get tagged, u might be one of the couple ppl that i couldn’t tag [check ur settings, fam!]

#bangtanhq #ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #180knet #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #bts #bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts series #kings of campus

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makeste · 4 years

Note

Are there any headcanons that you would like to share? About anything you want.

anon in the absence of specific guidelines I have managed to make this post pretty much entirely about Bakugou. I apologize if you really wanted to know all of my headcanons about Kouda or something lol. but all joking aside he really is the character I think about the most and so probably like 80% of my headcanons are about him, including close to 100% of the headcanons I actually have a solid enough grip on to put into words. anyway here goes.

he does not know how to tie a tie. he was a rowdy little free range knee-scraping grass-staining run-don’t-walk child whose parents only ever managed to wrestle him into formal attire a handful of times for special occasions when he was younger, and then he went to a middle school that used gakuran-style uniforms so he never learned then, either. his dad offered to teach him when U.A. rolled around, but he was all, “fuck off dad, I know how to tie a stupid tie,” because by that time he had grown into a cocky little brat confident in his own skill and naive as to the reality checks of the world, and he genuinely believed with the conviction that only a fifteen-year-old can muster that when the time came he would just magically know how to do it. on the first day of school he got as far as draping the loose tie over his neck and holding one end in each hand before staring at the mirror and abruptly realizing the hole he’d dug himself into. and so rather than admit defeat, he just straight up decided not to wear it. which became a permanent life choice once he got to school and saw how badly Deku’s tie was tied and realized there was no way he could ever risk that kind of humiliation.

in a similar vein, I know there’s a popular fanon that because of his parents’ influence Katsuki has a good sense of fashion, but my own personal headcanon is that this could not be further from the truth lol. it’s not that he has a terrible sense of style, mind you; it’s just that he doesn’t care about it at all. he’s a nerdy jock who spends all his free time studying and lifting weights. this kid literally only wears one color, and that color just so happens to be the easiest possible color to coordinate. he owns like three pairs of shoes max. he wears his pants three sizes up and they drag so much that the hems are all frayed from him constantly stepping on them (literally canon, and one of my favorite details from chapter 218). he just doesn’t give a fuck, so long as the clothes are comfortable and don’t look stupid. he has about a million things he’s more concerned about than what he or anyone else is wearing. in fact I’m 90% sure that his mom still buys most of his clothes, and about 70% convinced he does not even know what size he is.

he’s good at household chores (because he’s good at everything), but hates doing them. aside from cooking, which he enjoys, he will bitch and whine nonstop if forced to do tedious-yet-necessary things like washing dishes and folding laundry. that said, he is a perfectionist, and he also has a lot of experience because his mom made him do chores all the time during the seven trillion times he was grounded while growing up (that’s his estimate, btw, so it may be slightly exaggerated. he was not an easy kid to raise. when your kid’s fuse is about a millimeter long and he has a tendency to literally blow up whenever he throws a fit, you end up with a lot of objects in your house that have been replaced at some point), so if you do actually manage to get him to do the chore, rest assured that chore is getting fucking DONE.

when he was very little he watched an Avengers Endgame-style All Might film where a bunch of bad guys attacked earth and various assorted heroes tried and failed to stop them. then at the climax of the film, All Might showed up and said “I am here”, and everyone got super pumped up and excited because they knew the heroes were going to win with All Might on their side. this scene remains Katsuki’s favorite scene in anything. not the fight -- just the moment where All Might shows up and grins and the audience knows right there and then that he’s going to win. this is the feeling that inspired his dream. he wants to be the one who shows up and everyone is like, “we’re good now; Katsuki is here.”

when he was six or seven he got into a big fight with an older boy over that scene because he said it was fake and that there was no way All Might could have beaten those guys in real life. Katsuki insisted he definitely would have because All Might never loses. the other boy replied that everyone loses sometimes. Katsuki kicked his ass and got suspended for a week.

ten years later, Katsuki watched All Might battle All for One at Kamino and realized two things. one, that the other boy was right and that anyone can lose. and two, that he, the one who had so proudly defended All Might back then, was going to end up being the reason why he finally lost.

for a long time afterwards, he couldn’t bring himself to watch that movie again.

when he and Izuku were three years old their moms sent them out on a first errand (google Hajimete no Otsukai if you’re unfamiliar with this tradition, I promise you it is the cutest fucking thing you’ll ever see) to buy ingredients for katsudon. Izuku was full of bouncy childish enthusiasm and could rattle off the full shopping list of ingredients front to back, but when the moment finally came his confidence wilted as soon as their parents were out of sight. Katsuki also had a moment of panic when they first rounded the corner and he couldn’t see his house anymore, but rallied once Izuku burst into tears and he realized that he had to be the one to take charge. he proceeded to morph into an absurdly over-the-top caricature of his own mother for the duration of the errand, to the point where in addition to telling Izuku to stop crying he also ordered him to stand up straight and tuck in his shirt. the two of them went on to complete the errand flawlessly and their moms were PROUD AS FUCK and took a billion pictures. Izuku and Katsuki have only a few scattered memories of this milestone in the present day but it’s enough to send both of them absolutely reeling with embarrassment whenever they’re reminded of it.

he and his mom don’t often get along but sometimes they’ll bond over roasting a mutual target. they have watched many a trashy reality TV show together for this purpose. Masaru lives for these moments but never comments on them lest he spoil the rare moments of peace.

Katsuki is perfectly capable of using keigo (i.e. normal polite Japanese with no rude language/cursing), otherwise he would not be one of the top students in his ivy-league high school. code-switching is a thing guys! anyways his teachers are aware of this, because all of his essays and homework assignments are written normally. he merely chooses to go about his daily business acting like a wannabe yakuza stereotype because that’s just his personality, and he’s not about to start censoring himself and acting like some weird little goody two shoes robot person just to please people he mostly doesn’t give two shits about. but if you put a gun to his head and told him you’d pull the trigger if he said “fuck”, he would probably be all right; he’d just have to concentrate.

when he was little he went through a phase of collecting cicada shells and leaving them EVERYWHERE -- in the bathroom sink, on his mom’s pillow, you name it. Mitsuki often tells people this is when she started getting gray hairs. one time she opened a box of cereal and there was one in there and a little bit of her soul died that day.

he generally doesn’t care who calls him Kacchan. it doesn’t particularly bother him and it never occurred to him to pretend like it did just for appearance’s sake. also secretly for some reason the thought of Deku ever calling him anything else really bothers him. he’s not sure what it would mean if that ever happened, or what he would do.

all of his workouts are designed to strengthen his arms and back and shoulders because those are the parts of his body that take the most abuse from his quirk. other than that he avoids building up excess muscle anywhere else because the more weight he puts on the harder it is to fly around. for this reason he is never going to end up being a big bulky guy like All Might. one day Deku is going to surpass him in muscle, but he doesn’t care because he’ll still be a match for him in firepower and speed.

he’s one of those kids who will not so much as take a sip of alcohol until he’s twenty-five. partly because he’s experienced enough concussions that he doesn’t particularly want to give hangovers a try, and partly because he’s a control freak and honestly afraid of getting drunk and making an idiot of himself somehow. the rowdier members of class A try virtually every trick in their wheelhouse and then some to try and persuade him over the years, but not even the reverse psychology “aw, don’t worry, it’s okay if you’re... scared :)” thing works, because that’s only actually effective when he secretly wants to do the thing.

then one day he just wakes up and is all “you know what, I’m gonna try it”, and for the next few days his google history is basically just “how many drinks does it take to get drunk” and “how to avoid getting drunk” and “how to prevent hangovers.” somehow word gets out through the grapevine (he probably told Todoroki, who is the one person in class A you’d think wouldn’t be a big ol’ gossip but in fact IS) that Bakugou is finally going to get his drink on that weekend, and pretty much EVERYONE shows up at the izakaya that Friday night excited as FUCK.

Katsuki proceeds to drink a grand total of two beers over the span of several hours, and drinks like five glasses of water in between, and literally nothing happens to him at all except that Kaminari almost fights him out of frustration. the rest of class A never fully gets over their disappointment.

he actually knows like 90% of class 1-A’s names by this point. there are still a few people he doesn’t and will never know, though. twenty years from now Aoyama will still be “that weird fucking french kid” in his mind.

he had no idea who Eri was until the Christmas party. sometimes he’d hear the other kids talking about someone named Eri, and from context clues he somehow ended up thinking it was one of Aizawa’s cats. when Eri came to the party he had a brief moment of curiosity wondering if she was Sensei’s niece or something, and then he heard someone say her name and he was all “THAT’S ERI?!” and his entire worldview was briefly shaken up.

he pulled Kirishima aside to ask him and Kirishima basically gave him Eri’s whole entire life story which was way more than he actually wanted to know. he’s now kind of terrified of ever being in the same room as her for fear of having to interact with her because he’s pretty sure he’d do or say the wrong thing. most of the time being intimidating is something he strives for and puts a lot of effort into, including when he’s around kids (who are basically just smaller, sloppier adults in his mind), but he doesn’t want to be the guy who scared an abused kid, so he basically just hopes the others will have enough common sense not to ever go “oh hey you know who should totally interact with each other?? Eri and Bakugou!”

that being said, if circumstances ever arose which forced Katsuki to protect Eri, the two of them would totally bond and they would have a really sweet relationship in which Eri looked up to him just like she looks up to Deku and Mirio and the rest, and where Katsuki was constantly trying to be on his best behavior around her, like genuinely, sincerely trying, and kind of failing at it a lot but still being sweet in a gruff sort of restrained-disaster way.

...and after sitting there for a while trying to think of more I couldn’t come up with any so I guess that’s it! basically most of my headcanons are about how secretly boring Katsuki is. honestly if it weren’t for him having the vocabulary of a 52-year-old sailor whose foot was caught in a bear trap, he and Iida would probably be best friends.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bnha meta #bakugou meta #bnha headcanons #don't think there're any spoilers here except for the detail about his pants in 219 lol #sorry if I have spoiled anyone for that #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks #long post #oh whoops it was actually 218 my bad just edited #wait a second the christmas party is spoilers isn't it lol whoops #bnha spoilers #there we go

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evakuality · 3 years

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Hanna, episode 9

1. Hanna is such a sweet character. Occasionally it’s easy to forget that, but even in the face of her own hurt and justifiable anger at Matteo and what he’s done, as soon as she realises he’s going through some shit, she not only doesn’t pursue her anger but asks Jonas to hug him for her and give him best wishes. Honestly, I love her so so so much. I don’t actually much recall the way this scene goes in Eva’s season, but Eva always felt tougher (? I think that’s what I mean?) somehow. I mean, I know Hanna doesn’t let it lie forever (good for her!) but she has so much compassion in this particular moment.

2. I adore that Hanna is wearing this ‘stronger together; shirt when she’s talking with Jule. This is always such a great moment - the girls realising that actually they need to stop tearing each other up and actually place blame where it needs to go. This scene with Jule is also much nicer/better than the previous one. I really do think that’s because the stuff with Leonie was SO emotional that the Jule thing had no time to breathe. But here it’s a) much longer and b) is given the space it deserves, and Hanna is being so proactive in such a positive way. Love this for her. Also, look at this gorgeous yellow surrounding this scene. It’s so warm and calm and it calls back to those soft colours of the early season, but it’s so much stronger and brighter. I like that we’re kind of getting a return to Hanna’s true self (if that’s even a thing) but it’s not so washed out and pale. My girl is getting stronger.

3. Hanna and Jonas. Awkwaaarrrrddddd. But also this hallway/stairway they meet in is so cool. I love how many different textures this place has. Also, it’s a bit.... hmmmm. I don’t know, it feel so artificial the way they are giving us this information about Matteo’s family. It could arguably have come out (the stuff about his mother anyway) more organically earlier in the season. It’s good to know, but the execution isn’t the best. I do like the bit with Sam and Jonas. I mean, not ‘like’ as in approve, but like as in I like the way it’s executed. This is so real for this age, and it really felt like it could be genuine. I also really really like how Hanna’s immediate reaction is to try to settle Jonas, to give him the same attention she used to, and how natural that also feels. But of course, he’s still in pain and so it doesn’t work. But it does show just how well connected they were - and lends weight to what Hanna was saying about how she has genuine feelings for Jonas. It wasn’t just about stealing a boyfriend. I really do like the way these clips bleed into each other, bits from one informing what comes into another.

4. I do like these little girl squad moments. And while Kiki really does get on my nerves, it’s nice that they are all thinking about and concerned about her. It’s nice when they support each other. Still. She still really hasn’t grown up, and is still chasing that whole popularity thing at any cost. She’s at risk of losing genuine friends, and of seriously damaging her health. But we know that, and it sucks what’s going to be coming for her.

5. Ahh, the karaoke is so much fun!! I really really do love this whole bit. It reminds me of ho0w much fun we used to have doing it. Though I was never good enough at singing or confident (or drunk!) enough to do it by myself, so full kudos to everyone here who did it.

6. The thing with Matteo is also super well done. The acting here, from both of them, is really great. Her voice changes when she asks if he’s better and when she says he’s trustworthy you can see on his face that he knows that she’s caught him before she even has to say anything. This is always a moment I like in these scenes - when the Isak character is so close to the verge of admitting that he likes the Jonas character, and the Eva character goes in an entirely wrong direction. And it is really well done here. His little face when he realises she hasn’t got it, and the absolute irritation in her voice when she says that’s no reason to be doing all this fucked up shit. I’ve seen people saying they don’t like the way Matteo is acted in this season, but it’s very much consistent with how he develops later, particularly given the changes in his life situation rn. It’s a lot in the face and the body language, and I guess again because Matteo is subtly different to Isak you might see that as ‘bad’ but I really like it. I like that they’re two different characters who happen to go through a similar life path (and I did go over that at length in this series of posts starting here). The acting really has been great this season imo. Even when it was finding its feet early on, Hanna always resonated and rang true and it’s still true here. And the really nice thing is, you can see here that they are and have been good friends. So when she tells him she misses him in s3, you can believe it. You can see it here, how upsetting this is for her.

7. I’d forgotten just how much is in this clip. It’s roughly half of the entire episode! And oh. Kiki. Again, I think the acting is so superb, from all of them. But Lea infuses so much into Kiki, that as irritating and hard headed and just plain horrible as she can be sometimes, you can’t help but feel so much for her. This moment is awful. You can feel how lost and unhappy she is, and while the other characters are bemused (Amira’s face when she grabs the mic is amazing), I can’t help but feel so sad for her. I also find the way Druck moves PoVs occasionally to be a strange choice. But it does allow us to get this little insight into Mia before we’re with her fulltime (and ick. Alex needs to learn boundaries and back off - how does he even have her number? Do we find that out? I don’t remember).

8. The whole thing with Hanna and Jonas is so painful, from the wistful looks between the two of them, to the scene together and how that all plays out, and I really like that the way it’s shot is so awkward and just a bit ‘off. The fact that Jonas is singing a Matteo song (to Matteo, no less), and then ends up singing it to Hanna. Then they’re not properly framed in the shot at the end, and it almost feels designed to make it uncomfortable. They clearly have a great connection, but at the same time nothing has been talked about and so everything is just subtly ‘wrong’ and that’s why this whole bit works for me. It’s all off, kind of difficult to parse, and leaves the episode in this place where things are not really right. They’re not right with Mia and Kiki and they’re certainly not right with Hanna and Jonas.

This is such a difficult episode in so many ways. You can see why it’s called ‘crashes’ - so many things are crashing down for so many people. So much is packed into this last clip too, that it must have been really intense when it aired. And so we’re close to the end - one to go. Which is a bit sad because I really really am going to miss this revisit of Hanna. I’d forgotten just how much I love her because it’s been far too long since I watched her.

#druck #og druck #hanna episode 9

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holycafe · 4 years

Text

Preview for Just Friends ch23

Hey @legendarilymessedup you said you were after something to cheer you up, so I hope this helps <3 and I hope your night gets better.

And for anyone who hasn’t read the first 22 chapters and wants to give it a go, you can find the fic here on AO3. It’s a fake-dating slowburn fic where Barry doesn’t realise he’s actually in a fake relationship. Lots of shenanigans.

Len felt like he was dreaming.

He had Barry in his arms; finally, after hours of worrying, Barry was safe. That alone would have been enough to make him smile. Even if Barry had shot Len down, broke off their real-fake-relationship, and crushed Len’s heart, he still would have been happy to get Barry back home to his team, safe and sound.

But none of that happened.

Instead…

Instead, Barry loved him.

Those three words swam around and around in Len’s head, playing on repeat and blocking out everything else.

Barry was kissing him, and Barry loved him.

“–Err… Snart?–” Iris’ voice said through the comms in his ear, and Len groaned in annoyance as he broke the kiss. “–Hate to break up the party, but I can’t keep Eddie hanging around outside forever–” Barry looked confused – and extremely cute, even covered in mud as he was and sporting a serious split lip and bruised jaw – by Len suddenly pulling away. So, Leonard shook his head, pressing a reassuring kiss to Barry’s cheek and gesturing towards the earpiece. Cisco’s comms unit was about as covert as they came, so Len knew Barry couldn’t see it. But he understood anyway, nodding and taking a step back out of Len’s arms.

For a moment, Len began to panic that the kid was going to freak out again. Kissing Len in front of the Rogues was one thing, but doing it while Team Flash was listening in was an altogether different matter. It didn’t make a difference to Len, of course… but it surely would to the Scarlet Speedster.

Len tensed, preparing himself as he expected Barry to pull away and leave again…

But Barry just stooped down to the floor and picked Len’s cane up. When he stood back up again to pass it over, he was smiling; his green eyes shining happily beneath the mud, and blood, and bruises covering his delicate skin.

Len kissed him once more, grinning while Barry laughed against his lips.

“Get a room, would you?” Scudder muttered, having roused again after the fight. Rosa had been awake for a while, sullenly silent. However, Len was only paying them the bare minimum of attention, trusting Lisa and Mick to keep their enemies under control. Which was exactly what Lisa did, kicking Sam sharply in the shin until he grunted and shut up.

“–Seriously, Snart!–” Iris said, impatient. “–Eddie doesn’t know about the two of you, and I don’t think Barry would want him to find out by him just accidentally walking in on you guys mid-make out–”

Len groaned again and pulled away from Barry once more.

“Fine,” he drawled, his fingers brushing against Barry’s as he finally accepted the offered cane. “Send Eddie in.” Barry straightened up a little bit at the drop of the detective’s name, looking a little nervous. He cast a look over his shoulder and then seemed to altogether freeze.

Len attempted to follow Barry’s line of sight, trying to figure out what was wrong before it could bite them in the ass… but there appeared to be nothing there. The area of the room that Barry was running his eyes over was completely empty.

But then, that was apparently the problem.

“Where’s Shawna?” Barry asked, sounding worried enough that it made the hairs on the back of Len’s neck rise.

Mick shrugged before grunting out an answer. “She and Mardon poofed out of here while you ‘n’ Snart were playing tonsil hockey.” He paused for only a moment before grumpily adding: “Can’t say I blame ‘em.”

“Oh, crap,” Barry muttered quietly under his breath. Len wanted to ask what was wrong, wanted to raise his hand to cup Barry’s face and force him to make eye contact again, wanted to hold him and assure him that – whatever it was – they could get through it. Together.

But then Eddie Thawne entered the room, cautiously with his gun drawn but not aimed. Len waited and watched as the detective gave Barry a smile and a pat on the shoulder – his hand coming away covered in mud from Barry’s clothes, making Len look down at himself, realising that he too was coated in the stuff now. He supposed he could come up with something to explain that away though if he needed to.

Eddie moved to arrest Barry’s kidnappers, keeping a cautious birth from Mick who was still non-too-happy to be working with a pig… not that Len blamed him. And while the detective’s back was turned, Len quickly holstered his cold gun and used his now-spare hand to lead Barry out of the room.

Or maybe ‘to be led by Barry out of the room’ would be a more accurate description. Because, although Len gave the first subtle nudge towards the door, it was Barry who ended up offering Len a shoulder to – literally – lean on as they walked. Because now that the adrenaline of the fight was wearing down, his injured thigh was beginning to burn with a white-hot fury again from overuse. Len gritted his teeth as he limped away from the scene, putting far too much weight on his cane, and possibly squeezing just a little too harshly on Barry’s shoulder. And, Christ, Len wished that he could focus on that. He wished that he could lose himself in the moment and revel in the closeness of Barry’s body and the intimacy that they were finally sharing after all these months of being so completely oblivious to their feelings for one another.

But the look in Barry’s eye and the worried set to his bruised and bloodied lips reminded Len that nothing was ever that simple. Not for him.

Once they were outside in the fresh air, Barry took a deep breath and sighed up at the grey clouds above while Len took the comms piece out of his ear, wanting some privacy.

“What’s going on?” he asked, and Barry’s shoulders drooped as he turned to face Leonard.

“Shawna nearly got shot,” Barry explained, and Len nodded. He’d seen Sam fire the gun at her, but he’d also seen her get out of the way as the bullet drove straight into the wall behind them. He didn’t understand what was wrong here, but Barry’s anxiety only seemed to have grown. “I had to use my powers to save her.”

Ah.

‘Oh, crap’ was right.

“I’ll talk to her,” Barry quickly reassured him, and Len nodded. He was going to offer his company, but he could already see the answer to that question in Barry’s eyes. This was something that he felt like he needed to do alone, and Len could understand that. He knew that he wasn’t the most welcoming of people; he was often cold, and people could find it difficult to talk freely while he was around. Barry would have a much easier time talking to Shawna and Mark if Len wasn’t there.

Len could understand that, but he didn’t have to like it.

“Wear something Cisco can track,” he said. After all, Len had only just got Barry back, he didn’t want to lose him again. Not now. Not ever.

Barry smiled and nodded and looked like he was about to go in for another kiss. But then the door behind them opened again. Barry just about managed to stop himself before it was too late as Eddie Thawne walked out, leading the now-handcuffed Rosa Dillon and Sam Scudder towards his police cruiser. Len tensed his jaw in annoyance, wishing that they could just stop getting interrupted already.

“You’re pouting,” Barry laughed, and Len mustered up a glare. But they both knew there was no real ice behind it.

Barry’s grin softened around the edges as they stared into each other’s eyes. He still looked as though he wanted to lean in for a kiss. But, instead, he reached out and casually adjusted the hood on Len’s parka, his fingertips brushing softly against the skin on Len’s bare neck.

“I have so much I need to tell you,” he said, his voice so soft-spoken and yet so raw. Len yearned to reach out and touch him, to hold his hand, to kiss his cheek. But he couldn’t. They were already pushing their luck here with the gentle way that Barry was fixing his coat, and Len knew that anything more would surely give away their game to Detective Thawne.

This wasn’t exactly the first time that Len had needed to resist the urge to touch Barry. Yet, somehow, the weight of their physical separation felt heavier now that he knew Barry loved him back. Now that he knew the desire to hold and be held was mutual.

Len stared across into Barry’s beautiful green eyes, marvelling at how gorgeous he was. Even coated in mud – which Len would really need to get the story behind later – and bruises and his slowly-healing split lip… he was beautiful. Len wondered how he’d ever got so lucky as for Barry Allen to fall in love with him. And it was lucky. No matter how much heartbreak Len had felt this past few days, it was all worth it to just be able to look into Barry’s eyes and have him look back as though Len was his whole world.

Barry bit nervously against his bottom lip and then winced as the movement reminded him of the cut that he was still sporting there. Len raised his hand instantly to Barry’s face wanting to soothe his discomfort away. But he had to stop himself before he could cup Barry’s jaw and run his thumb along Barry’s lip. His hand uselessly hovered there for a moment, inches away from Barry’s face, before Len balled it back into a soft fist and dropped to his side once more.

“Oh, fuck it,” Barry breathed out, Len’s only warning before he stepped forward that last few inches and collided their mouths together again. Barry was holding on tighter to the fur of Len’s parka now, using it to pull Len forward even though there was no more ‘forward’ for Len to go.

Len wrapped his arm around Barry’s waist and buried his fingers into the back of his shirt, not even caring that the thick layer of mud there was still very much damp. Len couldn’t care less that he was getting covered in mud, not so long as Barry was the one behind it. Barry’s tongue skirted against Len’s, pushing and taking and driving him insane. Len chased the kiss, holding on for as long as he possibly could.

But eventually, they both had to come back up for air. And when that moment came, Len closed his eyes and pressed their foreheads together, and did everything he possibly could to pretend that they were alone.

Another moment passed before Barry pulled away from Len’s touch and turned to face the music. Len followed Barry’s gaze, and their movement was enough to catch Detective Thawne’s attention. He had been leaning against the hood of his police cruiser, appearing as though he was doing his best not to pry on Barry’s moment with Len while he attempted to get a meaningful conversation out of Mick. Len didn’t have to imagine how that endeavour was going.

But now that Barry and Len had pulled apart again, Thawne stood up straight and gave Barry a reassuring smile.

Barry was definitely relieved to see Eddie wasn’t looking overtly angry or uncomfortable about their latest act of PDA. And Barry’s happiness made Len happy in return. Barry looked back up to Len and smiled nervously.

“Could I borrow your bike?” he asked. “I really don’t think I should wait much longer before I track down Shawna, but I can’t exactly go running off right now.”

“You can, actually,” Len corrected. “Mick and Lisa already know you’re the Flash.” Expectedly, Barry frowned at that, so Len shrugged. “Ask Cisco about it.” Because Len couldn’t have answered any questions about it if he’d wanted to. He was still very muggy on those particular details.

“Oh, okay,” Barry nodded, taking the revelation in stride. “I… uh… I’ll see you tonight?” he asked, sounding hopeful in a way that made Len’s stomach do little happy flips.

“I hope so.”

Barry nodded again, looking as though he was going to step away. But at the last second, he leant back in and pressed a sweet kiss on Len’s cheek. Then Barry backed up, heading towards the where the bikes were parked. The second that he was out of sight of the police cruiser and the criminals handcuffed inside, he slipped into superspeed and ran away.

#i don't think many of my coldflash readers still follow me #so this probably only to get like 2 notes i guess #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#coldflash #leonard snart #barry allen #dc #len x barry

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loki-hargreeves · 4 years

Text

Loki x Reader - Wounds

Warnings: mild gore, close description of wound cleaning, blood, hurt/comfort, fluff, sexual tension, masochism/woundplay (very subtle), implied smut Word Count: 3,7K+ Summary: Loki returns from a mission, wounded. He pretends to be fine but the reader sees through that. She offers to clean his wound and the sexual tension between the two of them grows. At some point, they can’t ignore it anymore. Author’s Note: This was supposed to be a fluffy one-shot, but @godidontevenknowwhat kind of inspired me to choose the dirtier route.

Loki was stubborn.

Perhaps it was in his secretive nature to keep his issues to himself, afraid that by asking for help he would appear weak or vulnerable. It wasn’t entirely Loki’s fault, Y/N knew that. His past was incredibly complicated, which resulted in Loki’s unusual stubbornness and unwillingness to accept other people’s aid. Trying to get close to him was like trying to boil water on an instant – impossible. It required a lot of patience and time, but in the end, it was worth it.

Today was one of the more difficult days.

Loki, who had recently joined the Avengers on several missions now that he lived on earth, returned from a dangerous mission. He claimed that he was fine, but the way he walked, avoiding putting his weight on his left foot gave it away. He was hurt and Y/N wasn’t going to let him ignore his injuries. Seeing him like that broke her heart a little bit. They had been close for months now. In her mind, they were clearly friends - if not more.

As the others stayed in the common room to discuss the mission, Loki retreated to his quarters. Y/N followed him closely, leaving the others behind. She hadn’t been on the mission as she had been busy in New York, dealing with politicians who wanted to stick their noses into the Avengers business again. It was more than just frustrating, but she didn’t want to think about it now. She was worried about Loki.

Once she found herself behind his closed door, she knocked on it three times. “Loki? It’s me, can I come in?”

She heard him sigh deeply before replying, “Come in.”

The door was surrounded by a green film of magic that turned the doorknob and opened the door to her. Y/N knew Loki possessed great magic, but it never failed to amaze her. Even something as simple as him opening and closing doors with magic was astonishing. She walked in and the door closed behind her. Loki was sitting on his bed, crouching forward as his large hand held onto his ribcage tightly. Despite how clear it was to her that he was in pain, Loki tried to act as if nothing was wrong.

“What happened?” Y/N wanted to know, walking further inside the large room carefully. The green curtains had been pulled in front of the windows, but the room was lit by candles and the ceiling light. Loki’s scent was so strong in the room that it almost made Y/N swoon, but she had a strong grip on herself. She didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of Loki, now did she.

“I knew you’d ask,” Loki chuckled, and his rosy lips curled into an evident smirk.

“You’re avoiding my question,” Y/N noticed that Loki didn’t continue to speak after that.

His smirk stilled and he tried to sit up straight. He couldn’t escape her watchful eye. “I might’ve stepped on an explosive-“

“Loki!” Y/N gasped, shocked to hear his opening sentence. “Are you alright?” Without giving it much thought, she rushed to his side. She took a look at him, trying to find signs of great injuries, but failed. It took her a while to recover from the initial shock. How was he still in one piece?

“I’m a god, Y/N. I’ll survive. Something as small as that explosive couldn’t possibly wipe me off the surface of Midgard,” He tried to reassure her that everything was alright.

Somehow, Y/N didn’t believe that he had escaped that without any harm whatsoever. She didn’t want him to be in pain, to suffer alone. “You’re hurt though,” She tested the waters.

Loki sighed, again. He didn’t want to lie to her out of all people. She had a funny way of finding out about the truth of most things sooner or later. Besides, being vulnerable around her wasn’t that bad. Loki had grown quite fond of her and he had to admit that he enjoyed the attention she gave him. At first, he couldn’t understand why she cared. He was almost infuriated by the affectionate words and gazes, but now he had learned to like that. Now he often found himself wanting more, but he never acted out on that wish.

Silently, he stood up from the bed, now standing close to her. She didn’t step further away from him as neither one of them minded the closeness. Loki raised his wrist, using his magic to discard himself of his heavy, battle clothes, leaving him in his emerald green robe and black pants. “The ceiling in the base collapsed and I got a splinter in my side. How unfortunate,” Loki played it off cool as he opened his robe, revealing his bare chest underneath.

At first, Y/N was taken back by the fact that Loki was slowly undressing himself right in front of her. His tones chest was only a foot away from the tip of her nose and she played with the idea of letting her hands roam over his body. Quickly, her focus shifted to the wound in his side. He had pulled out whatever had pierced his flesh, but it had left behind a nasty injury. He was still bleeding!

“Loki…” Y/N struggled to find the right words. Seeing him like that and knowing he must’ve been in pain hurt her. She wanted to make him feel better.

“Don’t worry about it. In two days, it’ll be impossible to tell it was ever there,” He explained casually.

“Well I’m not going to stand by and let you suffer for two days,” She told him. Y/N knew how to be stubborn too. “Let me at least clean it for you, okay?”

Loki narrowed his jade eyes, looking at her properly for the first time that day. He noticed that she seemed genuinely worried about him. Her eyes that were usually so full of joy and light were now glossy. Was she truly upset that he was in pain? He didn’t know what to think of it. Suddenly, Loki felt nervous. His cheeks felt warm as blood rushed to his face and he had to avoid her gaze. “If that’ll make you feel better,” He gave her his verbal permission to do what she pleased.

Thank goodness, Y/N thought as Loki surrendered to her help. “Just wait here, I’ll grab the essentials,” She told him as calmly as she could, focusing entirely on cleansing his wound.

Quickly, she turned around to go to his bathroom, knowing that there was a first-aid kit in there, somewhere. She could’ve sworn that the Avengers compound had more first-aid kits than anything else they could need. It didn’t take long until she found the little red box from the cabinet. She grabbed that along with a roll of toilet paper – If things got messy. Then she returned to Loki who was comfortably sprawled on his bed. He seemed exhausted. Poor thing.

Oh, what she’d do to rest by his side, to let her hands dance across his skin. Perhaps she could catch a kiss or two, or let her lips trace the skin of his neck…

Focus! Y/N told herself as she put the essentials on the bed and then crawled on the soft mattress herself. She sat as comfortably as she could next to Loki so that his wound was easily reached. There was dry blood surrounding it and it was beginning form a crust, but the wound itself looked painful and fresh blood coated it. To stop the bleeding, she grabbed a generous amount of cotton and pressed it on it, watching how the crimson red blood soaked the white material within seconds.

“Were you just going to let yourself bleed out for two days?” Y/N wondered as she sat there, hoping to avoid an awkward silence. It was rare between the two of them as they often found themselves lost in conversation. Somehow this moment felt different, more intimate.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” He shrugged. He couldn’t be serious.

The scars all over his torso let her believe that he was serious. Sure, he had lived much longer than any mortal and seen battles that didn’t compare to the mission he had been on. But it didn’t mean eh deserved to be in pain.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Y/N shifted the focus from the wound to the fact he was alive and considerably well. The thought of losing him, even if he was just a friend, was terrifying. It was quite unlikely due to his strength, but nothing was impossible.

Loki felt his tongue turn heavier by the second as he heard that. He appreciated her care, but he struggled to find the right words to answer her with. It had been so long since he experienced this, that someone genuinely cared about him. Most people stuck around him because he was royalty. Others tried to get closer to Thor via Loki. Y/N didn’t have any ill intentions.

“It would be unfortunate if I passed this early. I’ve still got plenty of people to piss off,” Loki joked after a brief moment of silence. When Y/N giggled in response, he felt a strange sense of pride. He liked making her laugh and listening to that sweet sound was like music to his ears.

Eventually, the bleeding stopped so Y/N removed the cotton. Before she could close the wound, she would have to clean it properly. Unless Loki wanted water soaked on his bed, he had to move to the shower. “I need you in the shower for the next part,” She explained as she gathered the dirty cotton balls into her hands so she could throw them away.

“Oh, are you joining me?” Loki teased her, hoping to shift the attention away from him to her. Besides, he thought she looked cute whenever she was flustered.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” She rolled her eyes as the two of them made their way to the bathroom, which was far more elegant that Y/N had expected. It was clearly built while keeping the resident in mind, it looked like it could belong to a palace. The shower was huge, and it had a seat in the corner, built into the wall. It was perfect.

While ignoring her heart that was beating a little too fast in her chest, Y/N made Loki sit on the shower stool. She grabbed the showerhead and made sure the water wasn’t too hot or too cold. She was happy that the water supply in the compound was clean which made it so much easier to rinse wounds. Using alcohol was unnecessary, at least when it came to a wound like this.

Carefully, she placed the showerhead over the wound and washed away the dry blood. It only took seconds for the crimson wound to change into a fleshy colour, looking better already. The blood really made everything seem worse.

“Your clothes are getting wet,” Loki stated the obvious. He could’ve easily done this himself, but he wasn’t going to argue with her.

“So are yours, smartass,” Y/N smiled, calling him that jokingly.

Although the water wasn’t even that warm, the air in the bathroom felt hotter by the second. Y/N would’ve loved to get rid of her outer layer of clothes, but she refused to do so in the shower. Besides, her clothes got wet and it stuck to her skin awkwardly, not leaving too much to the imagination.

“Once I’m done with you, you should be as good as new,” Y/N assured him happily. A dry spot of blood refused to dissolve with the water, so Y/N put her thumb over his skin, ever so carefully rubbing the blood off. The last thing she wanted to do was to hurt him. She noticed how her touch made Loki’s abdominal muscles tense underneath her hand, which she ignored to avoid making things strange.

“Uh…that’s great,” Loki mumbled quietly. Why did her touch make him act that way? It felt like his thoughts were racing when her hand rested on his belly.

“I think that’s good,” Y/N turned off the waterflow and placed the showerhead on its rightful place. She stood up and looked at her soaked clothes with a smile, laughing as water followed her steps, forming a wet path.

Loki did not want that water on his bed, which gave him an idea. “You can borrow my clothes until you get your own. That is, unless you like to be wet and cold,” He didn’t think about his voice of words until it was too late. Damn. He hated how he felt like a young fool around her, thinking twice over a word as simple as ‘wet’. Yet, he did, and he couldn’t help it.

“I’d appreciate that, Loki,” Y/N brushed it off and returned his kindness with a smile.

It didn’t take long until they were both in dry clothes. Loki changed his robe and put on sweatpants, something he had grown fond of during his time on Midgard. The people sure knew how to make comfortable clothes. He left his robe open and lied down on his bed again so Y/N could finish what she had started.

She was wearing one of Loki’s many, surprisingly comfortable robes. She wrapped it tightly around her body and savoured the moment. Being wrapped in the silky material that smelled so strongly of Loki felt lovely. Would he notice if she borrowed it for longer than one night?

With clean hands, she grabbed tweezers so she could pull out the tiny splinters from his wound that she noticed while she was washing it. There were only a few of them, but she was determined to get them all out of his body.

“This might hurt,” Y/N warned him as she carefully began to work on the wound again.

“Maybe I like a little pain,” Loki hinted mysteriously, unintentionally making Y/N grow nervous again. He had noticed how recently his words captured her, made her avoid eye contact and sometimes she’d play with the hem of her shirt nervously. Making her flustered was fun, but he wasn’t too harsh on her. As much fun as it was, Loki couldn’t avoid the deeper truth behind it. She wasn’t flustered for no reason and he didn’t enjoy for no reason either.

One splinter was out. Loki had barely noticed it at all.

Y/N put the bloody splinter on his chest, too lazy to get up and throw it in the bin just yet. “I don’t understand how you step on an explosive, get buried by a ceiling and walk out of that in one piece,” Y/N wanted to talk about the mission.

“That’s where magic comes in handy,” Loki explained, wiggling his fingers playfully. “Besides, the ceiling debris didn’t weigh much.”

“What happened to the enemy?” Y/N wondered as she tried to pull out the larger splinter. It was harder than she imagined at first.

“They tried to escape, but we caught them by the entrance. Thor used his- ah!” Loki suddenly moaned in pain, which interrupted whatever he was about to say. Instinctively, his hand wrapped around her wrist. Y/N had pulled the splinter out and she figured it must’ve hurt him.

Her eyes widened in surprise and she felt guilty, “I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay!” Loki’s pale cheeks turned red, a rosy colour that spread to his ears as well. Was he blushing? Y/N found it much cuter than she should’ve, especially considering the situation. Her brain began to work in order to understand what happened and she concluded that he was either embarrassed or that Loki liked it.

Once her brain connected Loki with masochism, there was no turning back.

Little did she know that she was right. Loki liked that a little bit too much. He was unsure whether he should ignore what just happened or make her do it again. Her touch had been so gentle, so caring which already messed with his mind. When she insisted they would go in the shower together, Loki was almost baffled by disbelief. Seeing her in there, soaked by the warm water, on her knees right in front of him, his mind had gone to extremely sinful places.

Now this.

This made his thoughts somehow worse.

Loki hadn’t been joking when he said he liked a little bit of pain.

Their eyes met and Loki knew it was be delusional to believe they could move on as if nothing happened. His hand was still holding onto her wrist, but neither one of them was pulling away.

He cleared his throat, “It’s okay, Y/N.”

Gently, he pulled her hand back to his wound. It took every ounce of strength he had not to pull her onto his lap like he desired to do. Instead, he let go of her wrist and muttered, “Just…continue, if you’d like.”

Nervously, Y/N nodded and decided to finish this. Her hands were shaking now which made it harder to pull out the splinters. They both avoided each other’s gazes and a silence lingered around them.

It was quiet until Y/N was ready to wrap it up. “I need you to sit,” She explained while grabbing bandages from the small first-aid kit.

Loki did as he had been told and sat up. His wound already felt much better, but that wasn’t what he was focused on now. Y/N had completely taken over his mind, lurking in his every thought. He had felt strongly for her for a while now, but this intensified his feelings ten times. Her gentle touch, the intimacy of trusting her with his wound, the nervous touches… and the damn pain that she had accidentally inflicted upon him. It was so wrong, but it had felt so good.

He watched her as she placed a square piece of bandage over his wound and began to tape it down on his skin. Seeing her wrapped up in his robe made Loki feel strangely good. He felt possessive over her, but not in a delusional way. He was protective over her, he cared about her more than he dared to admit. Now she was wrapped in his scent. Anyone who saw her now could see that she wore something of his. Loki enjoyed that a lot. If he had the guts to take a risk, he’d ask her to be his as he would be hers.

He stayed quiet as she grabbed a softer bandage and rolled it around his waist a few times, scooting closer to him so she could reach around his body. They were so close now. Loki looked at her flustered face, noticing that she was nervous by judging her expression, the way her eyebrows were furrowed together.

Oh, how he wanted to grab her and kiss her. To smother her with his affection like she did with him. To show her that he cared, even though he seemed cold at times. He had fantasised about it several times before, but the urge had never been this strong before. He yearned for her. It felt like his heart tightened in his chest painfully every time they were close. He nearly lost his breath when they were like this. Loki was surprised by his own feelings. It had been so long since he last craved someone like he craved her.

“You’re all wrapped up,” Y/N was finally done with him. Gently, she patted his stomach, forgetting all about the intimacy. She was going to pull her hand away, already regretting that she touched him when it wasn’t necessary, when Loki grabbed her hand in his own. He had feared she’d pull hers away, but she didn’t.

Their eyes met, both full of questions that no words could answer. Only actions.

Fuck it, Loki thought. Their time together was too short anyway and he felt strangely confident as he did what he had wanted to for so long. Loki pulled Y/N towards him, almost making her lose her balance as she crashed against him. Her impact put pressure on his wound, but it only hurt a little bit which Loki welcomed. Their lips met roughly, and their teeth nearly clashed by the sudden force. As Loki tilted his head, the kiss got more comfortable. Their lips melted against one another and they both felt sparks igniting between them, on their lips and within their hearts.

It felt so right.

Loki tasted her and she was just as sweet as he had thought. He used his other hand to cup the side of her face, his fingertips resting against the back of her head. He felt her pulse underneath his palm, and it relieved him to know he wasn’t the only one whose heart was racing like a wild horse.

They pulled away after a moment, staring at each other curiously, almost in disbelief. Y/N couldn’t believe Loki kissed her. It felt magical. His kiss seemed to put a spell on her, or perhaps it was the burst of joy she felt when she faced him so lovingly.

“Thank you,” Loki smiled, overjoyed at the moment. He had to thank her properly for taking such good care of him.

“I couldn’t let you bleed out, now could I?” She laughed lightly and then glanced at his lips again, feeling like she needed to kiss him again more than she needed air in her lungs. So she did that, closing her eyes as their lips met again. This time it was expected and somehow even better.

Y/N got a boost of confidence from the kiss. She had a strange feeling that Loki wouldn’t mind her as she threw her leg over his lap, straddling him on his bed. Loki welcomed that, holding onto her body to keep her close. She couldn’t believe herself as she leaned her body seductively towards the dark-haired man and grabbed him by his waist, letting her hand linger above his wound. As odd as it was, he seemed to enjoy a little bit of pain. Touching him was so exciting and she wanted more. She longed for more as she felt Loki’s large hands on her body, holding her a little tighter than a friend would.

Loki didn’t want to scare her away from him, but he couldn’t control his body when she grinded her lap against his. Suddenly, his comfortable pants began to feel tight around him. Loki pulled away from the kiss, stopping himself before surely, he’d make her back away. “Y/N- you’re going to drive me mad!” He warned her seriously, yet he didn’t let go of her.

“So be it,” She shrugged, eyes darkened by lust. He was a fool if he thought she didn’t want him as much as he wanted her.

A/N: Well, well, well. You’ve made it to the end. I would appreciate your feedback! Thank you so much for reading this 💕

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#Loki #Loki One-Shot #tw wounds #tw wound #Loki angst #Loki fluff #Implied smut #Loki x Reader #loki x You #Loki x Y/N #Loki imagine #Loki fanfiction

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wellthatwentbetterthanexpected · 4 years

Text

(Wo)man down

Nat has worked herself to the ground recently, but hey what’s one more run with Steve before she calls it quits and goes to bed? Apparently a bloody disaster, that’s what.

Nat knew she shouldn’t have come to training this morning. She’d only returned to the compound from her latest solo mission at 3am that morning having not slept for at least 36 hours, and it was only 6am now. Damn Steve and his early bird tendencies. She prayed that the triple espresso would get her through until could collapse in bed and sleep until spending time with Bruce in the evening.

Upon exiting the compound Nat sees that Steve is already warming up, he stops and waves eagerly at her as she approach’s.

“Good morning Natasha, how was your mission?” He pulls her into a warm embrace. She had grown a lot more comfortable with the touchy-feely ways of some of her fellow avengers, even though it still isn’t her favourite thing.

“Fine.” She replies, returning the embrace. She was not being short with him, but both of them knew she wouldn’t disclose much more than that. Years of working alone still keeps her lips tight.

Nat begins her warm up, jogging on the spot before stretching. As she bends to touch her toes, all of the blood rushes to her head. Never normally an issue, but today it caused the outer ring of her vision to turn black and her ears began to ring loudly. She wobbles and begins falling but saves herself just in time to, less than elegantly, sit down. The ringing eases and the black fades from her vision. Unfortunately though, Steve noticed. He was by her side quickly, squatting down beside her.

“Nat? What’s wrong?” He asks, concern written all over his face. His hand has already found its way to her wrist, measuring her racing pulse. She pushes his hand away lightly, and uses it to stand up.

“I’m fine Steve, just jet lag.” Not technically a lie but definitely not the truth. But before he has the chance to question her further, Nat flashes him a grin and pushes past him cheekily, “loser makes breakfast!” She shouts as she runs off.

Ten minutes in and Nat knows she’s fucked up. Big time. Her breath is ragged and fast, which after ten minutes is appalling for someone in her field. Her vision is swimming in and out of focus, and she stopped being able to hear much over the ringing in her ears over a minute ago. She’s been around long enough to know what’s going to happen next. Nat can just make out Steve’s figure a fair distance ahead of her (thank god for his patriotism and his red white and blue running gear making him hard to miss). She slows down gingerly to an unstable stop. She plans to lower herself to the ground slowly and wait for it to pass, and somehow alert Steve to her distress. But as most of her plans seem to go recently, it did not happen the way she planned. The second she stopped running, her legs turned to jello and she feels herself falling towards the ground, blacking out before making contact with the cement.

“Tasha.... come on wake up.... dammit open your eyes.”

Nat can hear the voice floating somewhere around her head, disjointed from everything. Slowly she began to feel herself returning to her senses. Her ears are no longer ringing and she can feel the weight of her aching, exhausted body. And what the FUCK was the new throbbing pain in her head?! Groaning in pain she tried to open her eyes, just about succeeding in making her eyelids flutter.

“Nat? Can you hear me? It’s Steve. Can you open your eyes for me?”

Nat groans in response, forcing her weighted eyelids open, attempting to focus on his face. The black spots had gone, however she was viewing everything through a red haze. She lifts her hand to rub whatever it was out of her eyes, only for Steve to grab her by the wrist.

“No, don’t touch it Nat. You hit your head pretty hard on the pavement, you’re bleeding.”

She groans again, blinking until the blood clears from her eyes, “What happened?”

“You tell me!” Steve said, “ One minute we were running and the next I look over my shoulder to see you stop and fall to the ground! Were you hurt on your mission? Are you sick?”

“Steve, Jesus, enough with the 20 questions.” She moves to sit up, Steve gently helps guide her up until she’s sat up, but keeps his grip firmly on her upper arm as she sways a little. “I’m exhausted.” Nat states simply.

Steve looked at Nat blankly, waiting for her to go on. Being exhausted is nothing new for either of you and you both know it. She sighs deeply.

“Steve, I’m more than exhausted. I haven’t slept in over 36... nope, make that 37 hours now. I’ve spent the last week running around chasing bad guys whilst living off half rations. Before that I was was off with Sam dealing with the issues in Washington. I haven’t had a decent nights sleep or a decent meal in forever. I have nothing left to give.”

She’s not sure where that rant had come from, but felt a small weight lift off of her shoulders. However this was also met with a new wetness on her face, and she realised she were crying. Dammit. She aggressively wiped the tears away, pissed at herself for getting into this state.

Suddenly she felt herself being encased by strong arms and pulled into a tight hug. And that was the final straw, Nat sobbed, all of her exhaustion and emotions spilling down her cheeks and onto Steve’s top. And that’s where she stay, unmoving other than Steve repositioning the two of them and her sobs which rattles through her chest. Slowly Nat was able to start calming down. Steve was rubbing her back and whispering a reassuring “shhhhh” as he held her up tightly. Had he not been there Nat was sure she would have fallen face first back to the ground face. A few more raggedy breaths later and she began to regain a little control of her emotions, and gain awareness of what was happening. Oh my god, she were in a public park sobbing on Captain America’s chest. Emphasis on Public. She pushes herself away from Steve, instantly in surveillance mode, checking that no one was watching them and they weren’t being filmed.

“Nat you’re fine, no one is paying the slightest bit of attention.” Steve said, reading her mind as usual. He leant back onto his heals into a crouch. “Want to try standing?”

She nodded slightly, allowing him to pull the two of them up to standing. She swayed dangerously, the position change threatening to push her back into the darkness of unconsciousness. Steve held her tightly until she regained use of her legs properly.

“Can you walk? I want to get you back to the compound and have Bruce check you over.”

Nat contemplated her ability to walk, her legs more stable but still unsteady, but nodded. She tactfully chose to ignore his comment about seeing Bruce, knowing she wouldn’t follow through but didn’t want an argument.

Slowly they made their way back to the compound, Steve’s arm tightly wrapped around her shoulders, supporting her without being obvious. She made it most of the way before her legs decided to give out on her again.

“Shoot, Tasha, alright okay I’ve got you.” She felt him guide her to what she assumed was a bench, she couldn’t be sure because once again she couldn’t see through the dizzying blackness. Damn she’s not been this exhausted in a very long time. Or was she concussed from the first faint. The throbbing pain that wasn’t easing probably meant she could confidently add concussion into the mix of shit happening to her right now.

She allowed Steve to guide her head down between her legs, grounding herself with the rhythmic circles he was rubbing her back. She could hear him talking in her ear but the words were making no sense. Everything feels disjointed, Nat feels disconnected from the world, completely out of it. In her haze she’s vaguely aware of Steve moving away a little, his voice getting further away but his hand remaining on her upper back. When he moved back beside her she felt more aware of her surroundings, but remained with her head down.

“Hey Tasha, can you hear me now?”

“Mhm”

“I’ve called Bruce, he’s going to meet us at the entrance. You’re dehydrated, malnourished, exhausted and now concussed. Your body is fighting a losing battle with itself, we need to go and get you sorted.”

Nat raised her head and looked at Steve, that movement alone almost sending her pitching forward off of the bench, however Steve had her held securely by the shoulders.

“Can’t walk.” She said, her voice quiet and weak even to her own ears. All she wanted now was sleep, nothing else mattered. She slumped into Steve’s side and closed her eyes.

“No, come on Nat, I know you’re exhausted but I need you to stay awake. Nat? No come on open those eyes for me. Right dammit okay I’m going to run you back.”

She couldn’t have protested even if she wanted to, she was already bridal style in Steve’s arms by the time her foggy brain managed to work out what was being said. And any further protest she may have had died on her lips as the rocking motion of moving became the catalyst that pulled her fully into unconsciousness.

Nat didn’t remember getting back to the compound, she didn’t see the surprised then concerned look on Bruce’s face as Steve had rounded the corner with an unconscious Natasha in his arms. She didn’t recall the elevator journey where Steve reeled off what had happened, his voice growing ever more anxious. She didn’t hear Tony’s surprised shout when they ran past him to the medbay, nor did she hear him helping Bruce set up the equipment.

The next thing Natasha was aware of was the sound of rhythmic beeping and the quiet chatter of low voices. Opening her eyes she took in the scene before her. Steve was sat directly to the right of her, his posture tense, and his hand held hers tightly. Bruce was stood at the bottom of her bed flicking through a chart. To her left she could make out Tony, leaning back into his chair with his feet propped on the end of her bed as a footrest.

“Feet off my bed Stark.” She managed to croak out hoarsely.

And just like that all eyes were on her.

“Nat, thank God.” Steve said quietly, squeezing her hand and pulling his chair closer. He passed her a glass of water and the liquid felt amazing running down her throat.

“I think you’ll find,” Tony started, swinging his legs to the ground, “ that’s technically this is my bed, in fact, 95% of the stuff in this building is mine.”

Nat flipped him off before looking towards Bruce.

“What’s the verdict Doc, will I live to see another day.” She joked.

“Well, you’re dehydrated for a start. The low blood sugar, low blood pressure, and anaemia are obvious signs of malnutrition. Steve told us how long it had been since you last slept so that’s another box off of our bingo card. Add to that the concussion you’ve managed to give yourself, I’d say you’ve got a full house.”

“Basically Little Red, you’re about as good at looking after yourself as I am,” Tony joked, “except when you hit your breaking point you sure as hell do it with flare don’t you. I thought poor spangles here was going down with ya at one point!”

Nat laughed before turning her attention to Steve, who was not laughing, in fact he looked as wrecked as she felt.

“Steve?” She asked quietly, giving his hand a small squeeze and making eye contact with what she could only describe as sad eyes.

“Alright Brucey, let’s give these two some time to talk this out.”

“We’ll be in the lab if you need us.” Bruce said, smiling calmly at Nat and Steve as they left the medbay.

“Hey, I’m alright. They’re fixing me up and I’ll be good as new by evening. What’s with the sad eyes?”

Steve looked at her, “how did it get so bad? How did I notice how ill you were getting? I should never have let you come on that run. I’m sorry Natasha.”

“Hey no, what are you talking about? This was my fault, I know my limits and I should have known I’d passed them. I should have rested. I’m sorry I put you in that situation.”

Steve gave her another sad smile, another reassuring hand squeeze, and stood up. Nat wondered what he was doing as he went over to the main desk, aka the desk that lives in the medbay and belongs to “I’m not that kind of dr” Banner, and opened the top draw. He smiled and turned around, peanut MnM’s and Gatorade in hand.

“Time to work on your dehydration and malnutrition Agent Romanoff.”

#fanfic #mcu fanfiction #marvel whump #avengers whump #avengers sicfic #natasha romanoff #steve rogers

24 notes · View notes

when-they-write-stuff · 4 years

Text

Under the bright (but faded lights)

pairing: sterek

wc: 5500

notes: written for @khalesprix from the prompt list of "I don’t want to do this without you" and “Don’t say that. You’re going to be okay” and it kind of got away from me. In the very best way!

September

Stiles wasn’t supposed to be the one getting hurt.

He was human. He was fragile. Derek knew the boy would deny that to his dying breath if he ever said it out loud, but it was true. Stiles was so human it hit Derek like a blow. And he wasn’t supposed to be the one getting hurt.

But in the end, he did. And in the end, it wasn’t the supernatural that came for him.

When the symptoms first started, Derek was terrified that once more, Stiles was possessed. From the lack of sleeping, to the weight loss, to the sick smell of his scent. And Derek wasn’t sure he could go through all of that again; the pain, the terror, and the death. But then when Stiles came to his loft one day, pale-face and shaking, Derek realized it was much worse.

“This was the only way I never wanted to be like my mother.”

And Derek’s heart had broken.

Stiles wasn’t supposed to be the one getting hurt. He was kind, and brave, and good. Stiles was everything that kept Derek anchored and the day he learned he might lose the boy, Derek thought maybe he’d lose himself too.

“It took my mom pretty quick. They’re not sure how long I’ll have either.”

Stiles deserved to live a long life. One where he could sleep a full night, be safe for longer than a few days, and grow old with someone he loved. Stiles deserved everything and Derek kept realizing over and over again that he wouldn’t get.

“My dad is, uh… coping.”

Derek blinked at the boy. Stiles’s amber eyes were teary and his face was pale, but there was still a smile on his lips. Somehow still a smile on his lips. His fingers were trembling. He looked down at them as he talked, as if he had forgotten Derek was there but the words continued to come anyway.

“He’s not going to be able to watch this though. I, uh, don’t think the next few years are going to be very great. For either of us.”

Derek just stared. Amber eyes finally flicked back up, meeting his own.

“But you’ll take care of him, right? When I’m gone?”

Derek didn’t say a word. Didn’t move a muscle. Stiles continued to look at him, tear streaks tracing lines down his face, and Derek just stared. Because this wasn’t right. This wasn’t happening. Maybe he’d fallen asleep and this was a nightmare.

Something was wrong.

“Oh,” Stiles said quietly. “I, uh, get it dude. I shouldn’t have come.”

When he stood up, giving Derek one last look, his expression was silent. Pleading. Derek continued to stare at him like he was seeing a ghost, thoughts moving slowly, and Stiles nodded before turning away. He crossed the loft without looking back and carried the scent of sickness with him.

When the loft door opened, closed, and Derek was left alone, he figured he had to be dreaming. Because none of this had just happened.

He got a text from Scott later that night. It was all happening.

It was all happening.

The betas came back that night to an empty loft and Derek took off into the preserve feeling like he’d already lost something. Something more than a pack member. Something much more than his anchor.

Derek felt like he’d lost his heart.

November

The thing about dying was that Stiles was suddenly so much more aware of everything around him. The cold temperatures as winter slowly came. The lack of color to his face that he didn’t think had been a problem a few weeks ago. The way the house was so much quieter when his dad spent a solid three days at the station.

The thing about dying was that Stiles was terrified. But at the same time, he’d never felt calmer in his life.

Scott came to his house first. The boy looked at him like Stiles was already gone and then he hugged him close, sobbing into his shoulder. Except unlike at the loft a week ago, Stiles didn’t shed a single tear of his own.

He didn’t think Derek told the betas. Because when Erica came, she’d learned from Isaac who had learned from Scott, and she was downright pissed off.

There was always someone sleeping on his floor. For the next two months there was always someone sleeping on his floor. As if they thought he’d die in his sleep or something.

Stiles hadn’t talked to Derek since that day. The one time he’d seen him in the grocery store, Derek had gone stock-still, Stiles had felt sudden pain like a blow to the stomach, and then Derek had fled without looking back.

In a perfect world, Stiles would have confessed his feelings in the loft two months ago and Derek would have returned them. It would have been a love story with a heart-wrenching ending.

But it wasn’t a perfect world. The only thing Stiles had gotten out that night was realizing how fucking unfair everything around him was.

It was so fucking unfair.

December

Derek thought he’d waited too long. But that didn’t stop him from showing up in Stiles’s room one day and startling the boy so hard, he fell sideways out of his desk chair.

The smell of sickness was heavy in the air, mixed with that of the pack, and Derek just stood there for a moment, fighting every instinct to turn back around and flee.

Stiles stared at him from the floor for far too long. Then he climbed to his feet, dropped back into his desk chair, turned his back on Derek, and proceeded to pretend like he wasn’t there.

Derek figured he deserved that. Or a lot worse.

“Stiles—”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I wanted to check on you.”

Suddenly, Stiles was shoving himself back up. He was paler than usual, Derek thought, and the circles underneath his eyes seemed darker. A finger jabbed into his chest and Derek looked down at it before glancing back up.

Stiles’s amber eyes swam with tears.

“Why now, huh, Sourwolf? Why the hell come now? It’s been nearly three months!”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorr— no. Get out.”

Derek tensed, regret crashing over him in an icy wave and Stiles jabbed at his chest again. The tears were slipping down his cheeks now. All he smelled like was sickness, anger, and pain. And it made Derek want to curl in on himself.

“I needed you here , Derek,” Stiles said, voice cracking. “I needed you by my side. Do you understand that? Does anything in your little wolfy brain understand that?”

Derek clenched his jaw and nodded quietly, even though everything was screaming at him to turn and leave. He wasn’t sure what would be more painful; leaving first or waiting for Stiles to leave him later. He supposed only one part of that thought was selfish.

So Derek didn’t move.

“I needed you,” Stiles said. “Dammit, asshole, I need you!”

“I’m here.”

“And are you staying?”

Derek didn’t say a word for a second. Then he nodded, the ache in his chest coming back full force. Stiles looked at him for a long moment and then his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“If you vanish again—”

“I’m sorry, Stiles.”

The boy’s scent dropped. For a moment, all Derek could smell was sickness and pain, and then there were faint hints of cinnamon. Stiles nodded with a tear-streaked face. “I know.”

“I should have stayed.”

“You should have.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Not again.”

Another tear slipped down Stiles’s cheek. The boy met his gaze mournfully and then before Derek could react, there was a warm bundle in his arms. He blinked for a moment and then held the boy tighter, a million scents filling his nose as Stiles pressed against his chest.

I’m so sorry.

Derek lost the floor beneath his feet all over again as he held Stiles while he cried.

January

Derek had never seen all the Star Wars before.

Stiles changed that.

February

“Have you ever been stargazing before?”

Derek shook his head quietly. Stiles’s eyes hadn’t left the night sky but Derek hadn’t been able to tear his own from the constellation sitting right next to him. They sat on the hood of the jeep on the edge of the preserve, after Stiles had basically dragged him here spouting things about a meteor shower. As if a shooting star was the most interesting thing to happen in Beacon Hills.

You know, other than werewolves.

But Derek had been spending the past few months attached to Stiles’s side and he wasn’t about to break away. Sometimes, it was like he could forget why he’d grown so attached. Other times, when he was sleeping on the boy’s bedroom floor while Stiles snored in the bed, it hit him like a punch to the throat.

Stiles didn’t look like he was dying.

Not now, at least, eyes bright and fixed on the night sky. There were some days that Derek was terrified to enter his bedroom, the scent of grief and grey so strong that it made him feel sick. Stiles would wake up screaming from nightmares and Derek would spend the rest of the night cradling the boy in his arms while Stiles begged not to end up like his mother.

Not for the first time, Derek was struck by the sudden urge to bring up a certain topic that he was still surprised Stiles had avoided. One involving Derek’s red eyes, Stiles’s amber ones, and the one thing that could either save his life or end it early.

Derek hadn’t said a word. Neither had Stiles.

But he thought about it far too often.

“My mom knew all the constellations,” Stiles said, eyes still fixed on the sky. “My dad would drive us to the most secluded area on the darkest nights just so she could point them all out. I don’t… remember many.”

Once more, sadness hit Stiles’s scent like a tidal wave. Derek swallowed hard.

“I’m so scared, Derek,” Stiles said, voice shaking. “Scared I’ll forget about that. About my dad. About… about you.”

Derek swallowed hard. Stiles brushed at his eyes.

“I don’t want to forget.”

And what was Derek supposed to say to that? He resisted the urge to gather Stiles in his arms and just hold him close. Because he didn’t want the boy to forget either. If the day came that Stiles didn’t recognize him, Derek might very well shatter.

“I’m so fucking scared.”

Derek’s eyes burned. A single tear made its way down his cheek, feeling like poison against his skin. And, finally turning his gaze upward, he just silently wished. Wished Stiles would be okay. Wished everything could be alright again.

Wished that if Stiles died, maybe Derek would die with him.

April

The first time Derek kissed him, it was underneath the covers as Stiles trembled.

At some point or other, Stiles had started curling up against him when the night was at its darkest, and Derek would never say no. He was used to Stiles plodding across the loft, feeling the bed dip as he lowered himself onto the mattress, and brown hair would tickle his nose as Stiles buried his face right into the crook of Derek’s neck.

Tonight was one of those nights. Derek blinked himself out of sleep as Stiles crawled into bed next to him, body shaking as he curled up against Derek’s chest.

“Nightmare?”

“No.”

“Are you okay?”

Stiles just laughed; a sad, empty sound. The first time Derek had compared this Stiles to the old Stiles, he’d vowed to never do it again. But when Derek heard a laugh like that, so completely void of anything that used to be Stiles, he couldn’t help it.

Stiles turned his gaze upward, amber eyes searching his face. He looked haunted.

“I want to do something stupid.”

Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles flushed a little.

“But I’d have to be a terrible person to do it and make someone else suffer the consequences of whatever happens. I’m not a bad person, Derek. I… I don’t want to be a bad person.”

“You could never be bad.”

“You don’t know me that well, Sourwolf.”

Derek’s heart ached. He wanted to tell Stiles that yes, he knew him. He knew him so well, sometimes Derek thought his chest could explode.

He knew Stiles was the idiot to nearly brain himself in a rush to get curly fries. He was the genius that could recite the most random facts just because he thought they were neat. He was the brave one— the one that would risk himself a million times over for his friends. The one that would throw himself underneath the bus to protect those he loved.

Stiles was so good and Derek hurt just thinking about it. Because bad things always happened to good people.

“I want to do something stupid,” Stiles said softly. “Before it’s too late.”

Quietly, Derek nodded. Stiles’s scent turned nervous.

“Please don’t rip my throat out for this.”

When soft lips brushed against Derek’s own, he was pretty sure his mind went blank. He froze for a moment too long, something short circuiting in his brain, and then Stiles was drawing back, apologies already falling from his mouth.

Derek blinked once. Twice. Stiles pushed himself up and looked downright terrified and then, before Derek could think again, he was moving forward and capturing Stiles’s lips once more.

He missed the sound of Stiles’s surprised squeaks.

The first time Derek kissed him, it was out of hungry desperation. On which side, he wasn’t sure. Maybe both. Frantic hands in the darkness and feeling Stiles shiver underneath his touch was never something Derek had expected. Imagined, maybe. But not expected.

It was probably a stupid idea on his part too. Even more so when Stiles kissed him back, hard and hungry, as if he was trying to pretend like the situation was because of anything else.

Derek thought he could pretend too.

Stiles was staying over after too many hours of research. They’d survived the current Monster of the Week and Derek was pissed at him for being his usual self-sacrificing self. Or maybe there was no reason at all. No reason other than Stiles was here and Derek had always known he could lose himself in the taste of him.

But then he realized Stiles was whispering something against his lips. Over and over again like a plea. And for a moment, Derek was so lost in his own head, he almost didn’t understand it.

But then he did. And some part of him shattered.

“Don’t forget, don’t forget, don’t forget—”

May

The first time Stiles screamed when Derek came through his window, he nearly had a heart attack of his own. One moment, he’d been halfway into Stiles’s room, the boy’s eyes glued to his laptop and the next, Stiles was coming at him with a baseball bat in hand.

Derek barely managed to catch it. Stiles’s eyes were wide and full of terror.

“What the hell do you want? What are you doing here? My dad’s the Sheriff, asshole! I swear to god, if you even try and lay a finger on me—”

“Stiles.”

The boy blinked at him. Trembling, poised, and ready to run. Derek felt his throat tightened.

“Stiles, calm down. You know me.”

“No.”

“Stiles, you know me. It’s Derek.”

“N-no. Please leave.”

“Look, I’m going to call your dad, if you can just go over to your bed and wait—”

“Please leave.”

Derek’s heartbeat stuttered. He looked at Stiles for a long moment and then nodded, pulling himself back out the window. He heard the sound of it slamming behind him and dialed the Sheriff’s number, despite knowing Stiles was probably already calling the station.

He felt a little sick. A little dizzy.

By the time Derek heard the faint sound of sirens, he was already moving back into the shadows. Away from the Stilinski house. Away from Stiles’s thundering heartbeats.

Away from the boy that didn’t know him tonight.

July

“You’re not a werewolf.”

“What?”

“You’re not a werewolf,” Stiles said, turning Derek’s hand over in his, their fingers intertwined together. “I used to think you were though. God, how did you even tolerate me?”

Derek swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “You’ve been weirder.”

“Yeah, but dude. Werewolves.”

The rest of the pack was silent. The TV continued to blare whatever movie Stiles had picked out and Derek was pretty sure none of them were paying attention to it. He met Stiles’s eyes and managed to chuckle.

“You wrote a paper on the male circumcision for your economics class. I’ve learned not to underestimate you.”

“Oh my god, you’re too perfect to be real.”

Derek's heart twisted. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against Stiles’s forehead and the boy all but melted into it. Derek wanted to close his eyes and stay in that moment. Stiles right up next to him. The boy’s scent filled with cinnamon and warmth.

Even if it wasn’t all that real.

“Werewolves,” Stiles said again, laughing as he turned back toward the TV. “How did that even come around to be a thing?”

Derek closed his eyes to the sorrowful glow of red.

August

“What if I wanted the bite?”

Derek stiffened on the couch, slowly closing his book. He hadn’t heard Stiles’s heartbeats or scent approaching the loft and that twisted in his gut more than he would ever admit out loud. Stiles stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, and he looked downright pissed.

Derek stood slowly. They hadn’t talked about this yet. He’d been too terrified to bring it up and Stiles had never once said a word.

“The bite?”

“I’m selfish,” Stiles said, voice trembling. “I’m a selfish person and I never wanted to be a werewolf. But I’m not a bad person, Derek. I don’t want to be a bad person. I can’t leave my dad.”

A knot formed in his throat. “Stiles, you’re panicking.”

“Yes, I’m fucking panicking!” The boy’s scent flared and he slammed the door behind him, stalking across the loft. “Do you know what I did this morning, Derek? I got ready for school. I’ve fucking graduated and I still packed my things thinking it was the first day of high school. Do you know how many sticky notes I have on my walls? It’s like the literal Good Place of “Welcome! Everything is fine!” Except everything is not fine!”

“Stiles—”

“No, don’t ‘Stiles’ me! What if I wanted the bite, huh? What would you say then?”

“I’d give it to you.”

“Then why haven’t you offered before?”

Derek swallowed hard. Stiles searched his face, looking both broken and angry. The circles beneath his eyes were as dark as they had been during the Nogitsune. That shook Derek to his very core. “I didn’t want to scare you away.”

“What, by offering me something that could save my life?”

“By offering you something that could end it.”

Stiles straightened, a flicker of fear entering his scent. Derek closed his eyes and took a deep, trembling breath before meeting the boy’s gaze again.

“Not everyone survives the bite.”

“I know that.”

“No, Stiles. If you don’t want to live and I give you the bite, it won’t take. You won’t survive it.”

Stiles looked at him for a long moment. Then a dozen emotions warred across his face and he stepped back, nostrils flaring. “What?”

Derek was scared to meet his gaze. Stiles’s breaths trembled.

“Do you think I want this? Do you think I want to die?”

“No,” Derek said. “No, Stiles, I know you don’t want this. No one wants this. But you are so damn guilty . You don’t scream in your sleep, you apologize. Over and over again. And if I give you the bite without you wanting it, you will die.”

“Why would I want you to give me the bite?”

Derek flinched.

“Scott is my alpha. Scott would be my alpha. I came because I wanted to hear what you thought, Sourwolf, not because I need anything from you. I don’t need anything from you.”

Derek couldn’t look at him. Stiles’s scent wavered.

“I don’t need anything from you.”

“Okay, Stiles.”

“I don’t want this.”

“I know.”

“... I don’t want to die, Derek.”

Derek’s heart snapped in two. Stiles was trembling again and, without a world, Derek stepped forward and wrapped Stiles in his arms. The boy didn’t cry. Not today. But his heart thudded loud enough against his chest that it sounded like he was having a heart attack.

“I don’t want to die, Derek.”

“I know.”

“Don’t let me forget that.”

Derek closed his eyes, his throat tightening. It took almost all of the willpower he had left to just nod. Or at least attempt some sort of semblance of that. “I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Stiles.”

October

“Sooner or later, the bite won’t be able to help.”

Derek closed his eyes, those words hitting too close to home. The rest of the pack was gathered in the clinic and everyone had their eyes fixed on Deaton, Stiles, or Derek. He hated the weight of their stares. Like he could do anything without Stiles agreeing to it.

“You could have two years or ten. But if you wait and it’s not that long, nothing will change.”

“Could I still die from it?”

“Possibly.”

Stiles scoffed, the sound full of hopeless grief. Derek could smell his fear too and he didn’t know which one was more overpowering. “So I could die from the bite or I could die after I lose my mind.”

Standing across the room, the Sheriff flinched. But Deaton didn’t look fazed.

“Or you could survive.”

“So what are the chances then, fifty-fifty?”

“If you wish to survive the bite, they are much greater than that, Mr. Stilinski.”

Stiles’s eyes tracked over to where Derek stood, his expression betraying nothing. But Derek caught the rest of the pack’s confused looks as they listened to Deaton’s words. And Derek kind of wanted to wring the man’s neck.

“I could give it to you, Stiles,” Scott said, stepping forward. “I would do it.”

Stiles looked at his best friend with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. And Derek’s heart sunk as Stiles’s words from two months ago rang through his ears.

He would take Stiles living over anything else in the world. Over being Stiles’s alpha, over being the one guiding him through Derek’s side of the world. But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt. Just a little bit.

“I know you would, Scotty,” Stiles said. “But you know what I want.”

Derek blinked. Scott slumped a little as he nodded. Fear, cold and sharp, wrapped around Derek’s heart and he studied Stiles’s face.

“You won’t take the bite?”

Stiles looked at him quietly. Derek shook his head, uncrossing his arms, and all but fled the room. He thought someone said his name, but it was washed out by the heavy buzzing in his ears. The way the world threatened to come apart around him.

Because Derek couldn’t— he couldn’t—

He couldn’t watch Stiles die.

Stiles wasn’t supposed to be the one getting hurt. But he was. He was human; he was fragile. He was going to live as a boy and he was going to die as one. And there was nothing Derek could do to stop that. He’d never felt more helpless in his life.

Derek had promised he wouldn’t let Stiles forget; forget he didn’t want to die. But maybe that had been a broken vow from the start. From the start— from the beginning. Trembling confessions in the loft, studying constellations in the darkness, holding each other close underneath the covers.

Maybe it had all been broken from the start.

Underneath the blanket of stars, Derek threw back his head and howled.

November

“Do you know who I am, Derek?”

“I do.”

“Do I know who I am?”

“You do.”

“I don’t think that’s true anymore.”

December

“Can I drive the jeep again?”

“Not today, Stiles.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

“... Did I ask that yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“And what was your answer?”

“Tomorrow.”

January

“I love you, Sourwolf.”

“I know.”

"I don’t want to do this without you.”

“You won’t.”

“I think I’m dying.”

“Don’t say that. You’re going to be okay.”

“... Derek?”

“Yes, Stiles?”

“I don’t want to die. Remember?”

April

Stiles took him out to the preserve one day. And Derek… Derek had learned not to fight these things anymore. Sometimes Stiles took him to strange places and all Derek could do was gather him up again and carry him back home. But sometimes, on the good days, it was like magic.

Stiles would be talking and laughing. Derek thought maybe he was falling in love all over again. And when the blank look came back into Stiles’s eyes, he always broke down into tears.

But something was different today. Stiles was… well, he was nervous. But he was also thrumming with energy. Old Stiles energy.

Derek always hated himself for making that comparison.

Stiles led him out to the preserve and, on the very edge of it, was a blanket and a basket of food. Derek went still, looking at it for a long moment, and Stiles’s eyes danced at his expression.

“Lydia basically did it all, but I’m taking full credit.”

“This is for…”

“One year since your Sourwolf ass kissed me, dude. Or I kissed you. Whatever. And yes, I marked it on my calendar. Shut up, I’m not that big of a mess.”

He wasn’t. He was too unfairly perfect.

Derek didn’t know what to say or how to react, so he just nodded quietly. He was painfully aware of how quickly things could change or go wrong. But he was too scared to let himself dwell on that. Stiles led him over to the blanket and then all but pushed him down.

“We’re stargazing tonight, Sourpuss.”

Derek swallowed hard. “Are you going to teach me the constellations?”

“All the ones I know.”

Derek leaned forward and kissed him. Stiles hummed in delight around his lips, one hand reaching up to tangle through his hair before playful pushing him away. And then suddenly, the nervous energy was back. Stiles kept glancing toward the basket, fingers twitching, and eventually, Derek followed his gaze.

There wasn’t only food inside. Derek pulled out a black video camera and gave Stiles a strange look, who was practically vibrating with nerves now.

“Stiles?”

“That was supposed to be the nighttime finale.”

“Do you want me to put it back?”

“Um… no. I don’t think so, at least. It’s got something important on it.”

Derek started to flip the screen open. But then Stiles caught his arm, fingers curling into the sleeve of his leather jacket. The boy searched his face before nervously licking his lips.

“What’s on there… it’s old. Old enough that I was… in my right headspace, anyway. Scott knows and my dad knows. We’ve already talked.”

“Talked about what?”

“You’ll see.”

Derek didn’t like the strangled grief in the boy’s words. When he flipped the screen open, he found himself gazing at another Stiles of bright eyes and a red sweatshirt. He looked nervous in the camera, even with those bright eyes. But he was grinning despite that.

And then the video began to play.

“Hey, Sourwolf, it’s me. Uh, Stiles? So, I feel like an idiot right now. And a little nervous, I guess. Like I’m making my final message or something. Which, I suppose it could be if things go wrong. But that would suck and I try to be a positive person, so here’s to wishing for good luck?”

Derek glanced sideways at Stiles. The boy’s eyes were fixed anywhere but Derek’s face.

“So if you’re watching this, uh… fuck. I didn’t ask for the bite earlier. Which, you know. Shitty move on my part. Waiting until now. But maybe I had a reason! Maybe I wanted to make it special. Or I was just scared? That’s probably more like it. I’m so fucking terrified all the time, Der.”

Derek tried to smother a choked sob. He didn’t think he did a very good job.

“But, this is me and hopefully, you’re there too. And you know, we’re doing something disgustingly romantic like watching the stars or whatever. I’m gonna ramble for a bit, you’re gonna give me one of those ‘I can’t believe I love you’ looks and then I’m gonna do something stupid. Just like that one night when I first kissed you. That was stupid, right? This might be too.”

Derek could barely breathe. The Stiles on camera took a shaky breath.

“I never wanted to be a werewolf. You know that. And Scott’s my best friend. But if I ever went to the fluffy side, he wouldn’t be who I called alpha. And he knows that. We’ve come to an agreement of sorts. Or… I told him to accept things and I think he did. Eventually.

I want you, Sourwolf. You know, not just you, but yeah, you. If I was to take the bite from anyone, it’d be from your fluffy ass. And I know that’s kind of terrible to ask, I mean. Knowing I could die and all, but… I’m dying anyway.

And I don’t want to die.”

Derek slapped the camera screen closed, his eyes burning. Stiles startled at his side and amber eyes finally snapped upward. The boy looked downright terrified. And Derek could barely think straight for a moment.

“Derek?”

“You want me to give you the bite?”

“I do.”

Derek looked at him for a long moment. He kept trying to tell himself this was real, this was happening, but suddenly, it was too fast. “Do you want it?”

“Isn’t that the purpose of saying I do?”

“Stiles, do you want it?”

The boy’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I meant what I said. On there. I, uh, want you. Fuck, I want you, Der. And I know that’s kind of shitty in case I die because you’re a big fluffy asshole who will blame yourself. But—”

Derek studied his face, searching for a lie in Stiles’s voice. But he couldn’t find a single skip to his heart. His own chest felt strangely tight.

“Derek, you’re the one I’d call alpha. No one else.”

“If it doesn’t take, I’m the one that killed you.”

“I know. But if it doesn’t happen, I’m going to die anyway. And not before I’ve forgotten everyone I love. Not before I’ve forgotten you.”

Derek didn’t know which sounded more painful. He started to open the video camera again, just to see the message once more time— to make sure it was Stiles, it was his Stiles, it was true— when the boy brushed gentle fingers over his face and offered a small, sad smile.

“I’d call you alpha.”

Derek closed his eyes. Stiles traced his fingers underneath his chin and moved forward, kissing him softly. As if it were both a promise and an apology; whichever came first.

“How do you want it?”

Stiles pulled back a few inches. “My neck.”

“When do you—”

Stiles curled his hand in Derek’s hair and guided his head downward. Derek’s heartbeat stuttered in his chest as Stiles turned his throat upward, baring white skin for him. He’d seen this a million times, but Derek had never felt so terrified before.

“Stiles...”

“Please, Derek.”

Derek didn’t think he could face the Sheriff or Scott again if the bite didn’t take. If Stiles died in his arms out here, underneath the moonlight with a video of a smiling, bright-eyed boy in his lap, Derek didn’t think he’d be able to look himself in the face again.

“Derek, please.”

And Stiles was human. Fragile, wasn’t he? Except he’d always been the stronger one. Derek wasn’t ashamed of how terrified he felt as his sharp fangs brushed along the place between Stiles’s shoulder blade and neck. The boy shivered but didn’t pull back. Between the two of them, Derek was probably more afraid.

“I love you,” Stiles said softly. Derek shuddered and before he could stop himself, bit down. The hand in his hair tightened as Stiles startled. The other rubbed gentle circles over his back.

I’m so sorry.

Derek tasted blood, Stiles jerked against him, and in Derek’s lap, the video began to replay.

“Hey, Sourwolf, it’s me—”

June

“Do you remember him?”

“Him?”

“Old Stiles.”

“Shut up.”

“Cause this is fluffy Stiles now and that means I’m no longer inclined to be your go-to research guy—”

“Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Oh why yes, alpha — wait, bad wolf! I’m sorry!”

- -

Did this break me writing? Just a little bit. But did I have fun with it? ... Jury is still out. I might write a part two at some point! For a lil bit of beta Stiles which could be fun ;)

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your struggling student writer? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

#sterek #teen wolf #derek hale #stiles stilinski #all the angst #with a happy ending #dementia stiles #protective derek #prompts #khalesprix #derek x stiles #ficlet

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ratmonky · 5 years

Text

The Danger Next Door

Tenko would have been much worse is he hadn’t met AFO.

AO3 Link

Warnings on this chapter: mentions of animal abuse, animal death, stalking, bullying

Word Count: 1.8K

Looking back, you couldn’t remember when was the first time you had met Tenko. He had told you that you two had met in the town’s playground when you were both seven but you were sure you had seen him somewhere else even before that.

Tenko had lived in the house next to yours. Your room was across his. His father was friends with yours and your mother worked in the agency Tenko’s father worked. Most people and your family considered you two as childhood friends.

Tenko had warmed up to you very quickly. He declared you as his best friend forever.

You, on the other hand, considered Tenko as anything but your friend. He was weird. Nobody wanted to hang out with him, neither did you but you were forced by your parents to play with him.

There were rules though.

You weren’t supposed to let Tenko touch you without his gloves and you were told to tell a grown-up if Tenko ever took off his gloves.

Your parents kept telling you about how Tenko had to wear those special gloves and if he didn’t he would hurt someone.

As long as you followed the rules you would be safe… right?

~~~

Tenko liked to hike with you.

You were always so squeamish about the dead animals you two found by ‘coincidence’ and you yelled at Tenko to not touch them.

“You touch it!” Tenko cheered you on excitedly, beckoning you to crouch next to him and touch the decaying rabbit.

“Can we just go home?” you nagged.

“Just touch and.. and we’ll go home!”

“Promise?” you hesitantly asked. Tenko never held his promises.

“Promise,” he smiled.

You reluctantly walked closer to him and crouched next to the dead rabbit. From up close the animal looked worse. It had been manifested with maggots and you could see the weird wound it had. The poor animal didn’t have its lower half, probably eaten by some predator.

Slowly you reached your hand to touch it but your body wouldn’t let you. The dead animal was far too disgusting to look at.

When you made a move to retrieve your hand, Tenko grabbed you by your wrist and led your hand to the corpse of the animal. You shrieked as he forced you to stick your hand inside the wound.

“Tenko! Stop!” you cried, you could feel the larvae squirming around your hand. The weird yellow fluid started oozing out from the animal and covered your hand.

Only when you started scream crying Tenko let your hand go.

You went running back home. No matter how much you washed your hand or tried to scrub it, the stench never left.

You cried yourself to sleep that night.

~~~

One day just before a month you two started the last year of the middle school, Tenko dragged you to an abandoned storage cabin in the forest to show you all the treasures he had been collecting ever since he had inherited his Quirk.

The things Tenko collected weren’t anything you had seen before. They weren’t rocks or leaves.

“This is Mon!” Tenko said excitedly. “He’s cute, right? You love him, right?”

You stood there petrified as he held the dead dog up to your face by its tail, encouraging you to pet it.

You screamed.

Tenko panicked and tried to stop you from screaming. “He’s just my pet dog!”

That didn’t work.

You turned around on your heels to get out of there but Tenko caught you by your wrist and overpowered you easily. He used his entire weight to push you down and sat on your back to keep you in place.

“Let me go!” you squirmed under him and cried.

“Promise me you won’t tell my dad,” he pleaded. He was still holding what was remained of his dead pet. “I have to keep Mon here with everyone because my dad doesn’t like them, ” he said. “If you tell my dad he’ll take them away from me!”

You refused to listen and kept on crying. Which made Tenko snap. He grabbed a fistful of your hair with his free hand and pulled your head back by your hair. “Promise me.”

You kept on crying.

Tenko reached to his newest pet he had adopted, Haku. He put Mon down and threw Haku right in front of you.

Haku was a skunk flooded with maggots.

You gagged and tried to move away from it but Tenko held you in place. He took off his glove, reached to Haku and touched the dead animal. You watched as the skunk slowly decayed and with the unbearable smell of rotten flesh filling your nostrils, you threw up your lunch.

Somehow disgusted by your puke but not by his dead animal collection, Tenko got up from your back, giving you a chance to escape.

You ran without looking back yet you heard him loud and clear.

“If you tell anyone about Mon-chan, I’ll kill you!”

That was the last time you had ever talked to Tenko. You never told anyone about anything that happened.

~~~

You remembered it now.

You had first seen Tenko in the news.

He was the boy who had inherited a mutant Quirk and had accidentally killed everyone in his family but his father.

You felt kind of bad for him but you brushed it off once you started your last year in school and made new friends.

Tenko didn’t make any new friends. He desperately waited for you to talk to him and return to the abandoned storage cabin in the forest to play with him.

But you never did. You kept going further away, getting more and more popular and loved by others, forgetting about Tenko.

~~~

“Can I sit here with you-”

You didn’t look up to Tenko, you immediately left, leaving your lunch behind.

Defeated, Tenko sat down and noticed the lip balm you had left behind. When he was sure nobody was looking, he took it. Just like he did with most of your stuff.

~~~

The mentor asked you where you wanted to study in high school, you told him you wanted to go to the public high school in Kamino.

Outside the mentor’s office, Tenko scribbled down the name of the high school he heard in his notebook.

~~~

You had thought if you had chosen a highschool far far away from home, you would finally manage to get away from him.

Oh, how wrong you were.

Because here he was, sitting right next to you during the opening ceremony.

Tenko tried to talk to you but you didn’t answer. You kept on ignoring him, wishing to have chosen the public highschool in Fukuoka. Maybe then you would never have to see him again.

What you didn’t know was that he would follow you to the edge of this world. No matter how far.

~~~

Thankfully, Tenko wasn’t in your class. That meant you would be at least more free and lively without being scared of accidentally looking at him with a smile on your face, giving him a reason to be happy about.

Your new classmates were friendly. They liked you a lot and you liked them. Every passing week you started to get more and more popular as Tenko got more and more isolated in his own class.

But that didn’t stop Tenko from coming to your class and try to get your attention during each break.

Although you continued to ignore him, your classmates started to notice how desperate he was to talk to you. People started to call him weird names and laugh at him because of his obsession with you.

Whenever one of your friends asked you if Tenko was someone you knew, your answer was always that you didn’t know who he was and you thought he was a stalker.

Your explanation of the situation made it clear that Tenko was actually obsessed with you. Your friends started telling Tenko to go back to his class and yell at his face for being such a creep.

One day, when you were cleaning the classroom after school with your friend, Tenko came to the classroom. He stood by the door and watched you two.

Irritated by you not saying anything to the stalker, your friend wanted to take the matters into his hands and went a little overboard.

“What are you waiting for? Go home weirdo!” He pushed Tenko very slightly.

Although he was very tall and built, the push hadn’t been that strong, Tenko was furious.

He pushed him back and the guy who was double the size of Tenko almost flew across the classroom. He stumbled back and fell on the floor after losing his balance.

You went running to your friend. He started yelling at Tenko, telling him to go and die.

“Do you know about my Quirk?” you watched as Tenko’s good hand reached to his other hand, threatening to take his glove off.

He had to be fucking kidding.

But this was Tenko, he didn’t joke around.

You were trapped in the empty classroom with no one around.

“Why can’t you just give up?” you asked. “I don’t want to be your friend.” Your voice was quivering in fear. You couldn’t stop thinking about the dead animals he made you touch. Your hands started to shake.

“I don’t want you to be my friend,” Tenko furrowed his brows while talking. He looked sweaty, desperate and obsessed. “I want you to be mine.”

“Huh?” your friend scoffed, holding onto you as he got up. “Just how delusional are you? She told you she doesn’t want to be with you. Are you mentally deranged or something?”

Tenko smiled at you. “She likes me.”

You opened your mouth to tell him you didn’t like him but your friend spoke over you.

“What if she’s dating someone else? Then what?” he asked.

Tenko stumbled on his words. “She’s not dating anyone,” he muttered.

Your friend put his arm around you and glowered at Tenko. “What if I told you that we were dating?”

You were as surprised as Tenko but managed to not show it through your facial expressions, you knew your friend was saying this to get Tenko to leave you alone.

Dead silence fell in the classroom. You shifted on your foot uncomfortably as Tenko’s eyes widened. He stood right in front of you for a moment. His eyes went back and forth between you and your friend but he never said anything. Then the unthinkable happened, Tenko left without any fuss.

Your friend started walking you home and never left you alone to make sure Tenko never approached you again. Your friend sat with you during breaks whenever Tenko came by.

And after a while, Tenko stopped coming to your class during breaks.

You had thought he had finally given up.

#stalking #tw animal abuse #i wasn't gunna post this until it was finished but my head is empty as hell #the nightclub was closed #Thank you COVID-19! Very cool!#fr I hate this #i was planning on drinking tonight #fuck this fucking shit mf

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