#I need to nurse him back to health like a baby bird and show him the love he deserves | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lily-drake · 3 years ago

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Fantasy/Twin AU

Sorry for being late and not posting for a bit. Was a bit burnt out and had writer block. I will go back to write the other days soon though. Also, sorry, I suck at writing wing aus, this is my first time doing it.

Earth J-236, an earth full of mystical life. An earth where everyone is born with wings. Your wings represented who you are; well not really, but that’s what people believed. If your wings were bright and colorful then you were obviously an amazing person, but if your wings were darker or had little color, then you have great evil in your soul. Marinette was born seconds after her twin, Damian. It takes a few years before your wings fully grow in, usually to about 6. But with the accelerated growth serums used in their artificial wombs, it took them till they were three for their feathers to sprout. Damian’s were black like their father’s with subtle hints of red like their mothers. Marinette’s were pure black, devoid of any color, and her mother was so proud of that. She was the League’s charm, for it’s believed that anyone with pure black wings was pure evil. Her only purpose being to protect her brother, nothing else was more important than her brother’s safety. She would die for him, because if he died she might as well have died as well as her only purpose for living would be gone.

Damian glared at his sister, his wings ruffling in annoyance. She was hovering close to him again, and she never said anything to him ever unless she was completely sure they were alone. He did not believe that his sister was or could ever be, “pure evil” just because of her wings. In fact, her mannerisms are the exact opposite of what people believed. She, in her own ways, is caring, sweet, and protective. He had seen, and helped, her nurse a baby bird that had fallen from its nest back to health. She would often place little things around the base for only him to find such as some extra baklava, a throwing knife, a drawing of someone, beads, or other random objects. Grandfather had always been extra hard on her, making sure she wouldn’t betray them, she wouldn’t become “evil enough to lose herself”. Sometimes she would sneak into his room at night, and it tore him apart to see silent tears run down his little sister's face as small black raven feathers fell onto the floor from her days worth of training. He had been learning how to fly, her wings had been clipped every two or three months so she could not leave the base. She had learned long ago to control her facial and wing expressions, but he could always see the droop in them and the sad shine in her eyes as she stood on the ground while he was in the air.

________

Marinette looked up and watched as the fiery Phoenix flew through the air setting Nada Parabat aflame. She didn’t feel much as she watched her grandfather get blown up. She only felt great anxiety and fear as she could not find her brother. She loved her brother, and if her job was to cause chaos, she would make sure she could prevent it from hurting him. Grandfather had told her about how cursed she was, it’s why they had to be extra tough on her, and she understood that. They couldn’t have her hurting anyone they needed, only the people they wanted gone. She was angry at grandfather yesterday for taking some of her feathers for failing a task, this must have been her fault. She didn’t want to hurt her brother, her wings had only proven nothing but destruction. She had to leave now, then she could go where no one else was, and she wouldn’t have to hurt anyone else. So like a coward, like the disgrace she was, she ran. She kept her wings tight against her back making sure that no one could grab them as she ran. An arrow hit one of them, but she didn’t have time to think about the burning pain as she ran and ran and ran farther and farther and farther away. Tears ran down her cheeks as she silently prayed that her brother would be okay.

She didn’t know how long she ran, but she knew it must have been a really long time as she had just collapsed from exhaustion in the woods. She looked back at her wings and slowly and carefully spread them out and hissed in pain from where the arrow had pierced her left wing. Drops of red slowly dripped down her feathers and dropped on the ground. She quickly closed them and made sure they were as small and put away as possible. She looked up at the trees made of brass with different colored jade leaves. Pearl-like apples growing on a few. She watched a baby griffon follow it’s mother in the distance, turtle ducks waddling to a pond somewhere nearby, deer nibbling on plants, she could hear the rustling of leaves and branches from unseen creatures and everything was getting more blurry and dark. She was cold, it felt very cold. She slowly unwound her wings from around herself and closed them tightly around her, but that didn’t stop the chill that went deep down to her bones. She was a failure, a mistake, she would only cause harm. Here she wouldn’t be able to do that, and if she died here, then no one would be hurt by her again, and wasn’t that such a nice thought.

________

Tom and Sabine had finally been able to hire some trusted employees and explore places in Tibet. They had made lots of money over the years with their successful bakery, and they thought now was a better time than ever to go on a real honeymoon as they hadn’t been able to afford it before when the bakery had first started. It was during one of these forest explorations when they saw a trail of little drops of blood and felt they needed to follow it. What they discovered broke their hearts. There lying on the cold forest floor was what appeared to be a child hugging their very black wings around them. They knew of the rumors and myths of black winged people, but they did not care. They believed that their wings were not what made them evil, but rather situations put into their lives. Sabine quickly checked for a pulse, and though it was slow she sighed in relief when she felt it. She quickly handed the small unconscious girl to Tom and they both quickly went to the nearest hospital. How could someone leave such a small child all alone to die like that? It looked as if she had been injured if the dried blood on the small fragile wings said anything. And worst of all, upon closer examination, they had been clipped, recently too.

As soon as they arrived they carried the small girl to the front and demanded that they take her in. They waited until the doctors were done and gave them permission to visit claiming to be the girl’s adopted parents. It wasn’t technically a lie, they would be soon even if Sabine had to force it to happen.

When Marinette woke up she knew something was off. She was under a blanket, she’s never been given a blanket before. The sent of bleach and chemicals were everywhere and it hurt her nose. There was a beeping noise next to her that was giving her a headache. She didn’t know where she was, and that was bad. She opened her eyes a small fraction so nobody could see she was awake and looked around as much as she could. The entire room was white and there were bright lights. There were two strange people waiting in chairs near where she was laying. She wondered if they were the ones who brought her here. Slowly she opened them up all the way and silently sat up. It’s best to make no noise, then she wouldn’t disturb anyone.

“Oh sweety, I’m so glad you’re awake.”

The woman said in a cheery and relieved manner, but she just continued to watch and study them silently. Her wings felt stiff against her back, though she made sure they didn’t move or give anything away.

“How are you feeling dear?”

Silence greeted them, and her face remained as impassive as ever. They wanted something, why else would they save a freak like her? What were they aiming for here?

“Did your parents hurt you? If so, we can take you away from them.”

Marinette’s eyes widened only a fraction. These were randoms, innocents if you will. They obviously had no idea who she was, and they seemed unafraid of her and her wings. Did they not know how dangerous she was, didn’t they know that black wings meant she was cursed? The man and the woman looked at eachother and spread their wings. Marinette was shocked, but she wouldn’t show it.

The large man had light brown eagle wings while the small woman had white and black woodpecker wings. She wanted to reach out and touch the feathers, but then something bad would happen to them, so she held her hands together.

“We don’t care what your wing color is. Your wings don’t define who you are, it’s what you do with your life that does. Can we please help you?”

The woman said sincerely as she gripped the man’s hand in hers. She felt a pull to them, something telling her to accept. She didn’t want to hurt them though. But maybe she could protect them? Maybe she could find a way around her curse and make sure they don’t get hurt? Slowly she nodded and they both looked so happy when she did. She hoped that she wouldn’t hurt them, they didn’t deserve to be cursed. Maybe if she didn’t touch them things would be ok. If she didn’t let them touch her then it wouldn’t spread. She could do this!

________

Apparently she couldn’t do it because this is a very affectionate family, and the first thing that happened before they let her sleep on their —super fluffy, pure Heaven— bed was give her a hug. She had made sure that her wings were tucked under her clothes and tight against her back the entire time though. So they didn’t touch her wings, so maybe that meant they wouldn’t be cursed.

It was strange, because the next morning they went to a courthouse, and she was adopted. She hadn’t said anything throughout the entire event, she just watched and observed what people did. They stayed in Tibet for another few days before they flew to Paris, France. This was supposed to be her new home. The city of light and love. Maybe here, it would stop her curse. It was so bright that it had to block out her darkness. She still always carried one of her knives with her, she felt naked without one. Tom and Sabine seemed to understand somehow, and said that it was her business and that was enough for them till she was ready to talk about it. It was strange not to be interrogated for now wanting to tell someone something.

Marinette had lived with the Dupain-Chengs for about a year now. It was strange really, they were honest business people and their joy was always sincere. They didn’t question much of what she did even though it was probably weird to them. They didn’t punish her for messing up like the league did, and they never went near her wings without permission. They never plucked her feathers, and they would often ask if they could preen her wings. She would refuse every time, but she would often wonder what it would be like to have someone else touch them. Think of what it would be like if she weren’t cursed. When it was time for school she would always wrap them around herself then tape them so no one would see or be able to touch them. Things were finally going well, she couldn’t risk it now!

There was a blonde brat that liked to act like she was above her, and because her wings were always hidden with no explanation she made sure everyone knew that she was “wingless”. She didn’t care though, being wingless was better than being evil winged. She never really said anything in class or to other students, she never gave much reaction keeping her stoic face up. The brat left her alone soon after for being a, “ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous freak.” And nobody was the wiser.

Being Lady Chaos was….the best thing that ever happened to her if she was being honest. Even with pure black wings, people still thought she was a hero. She never flew, she was scared she’d fall and die. She was never allowed to fly before, and even if she technically can do so now, it’s not worth the risk. Her partner though, Mr. Bug has gold, red, and black wings. He can fly through the air with ease she wished she desperately had. Sometimes after patrol she would go to the very top of the Eiffel Tower and just stretch her wings out as far out as she could. She would close her eyes as the wind blew past her and ruffled her feathers and pretend that she was soaring through the air.

________

Year three of living with Tom and Sabine she was comfortable talking to them more, and with Plagg there to control her chaos she finally let them touch her wings. It was strange really, she never took care of her wings, never cared enough to. When she first felt the hands on her feathers she had to will herself not to draw them back for fear of them plucking or ripped out. But Sabine’s hands were so gentle and smooth that they seemed to move on their own and go closer to her touch. Sabine would smile and hum as she gently preened the dark raven feathers that were soft and smooth. Maybe she could finally tell the class that she wasn’t wingless soon, and maybe they would be okay with it.

No, they would not as she learned from listening to her classmates talk to the new student, Lila Rossi. To them Lady Chaos was the only good black winged person because she was chasing after Mr. Bug to earn his affections. Lady Chaos was obviously evil before she met Mr. Bug and she would always be evil no matter what she did. Marinette felt nauseous that she ever thought about telling them the truth. She had never felt more betrayed than she felt now, because she had given them her trust, and they broke it without even knowing it. After that day, she made extra sure that her wings were hidden and wore a bit thicker clothing just in case. Tom and Sabine are a little worried about it, but she calmed them pretty quickly. She was fine, it wasn’t like they were all great friends to begin with. That’s probably why everyone sides with Lila and decides that she’s a terrible person.

She had tried leaving her past behind, pretending that she didn’t hurt and kill people. Pretend that she wasn’t a weapon. She tried to push it far away, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. She had abandoned her brother. She betrayed the league. She did unspeakable things to please someone who would never care about her, just her use. The city of lights seems duller than usual, it was probably her fault Hawkmoth came to be in the first place, afterall she was cursed to bring ruin everywhere she went.

________

Lila and Chloe thought it would be a great idea to bring everybody to the Crime Capital of the World for their senior trip. Probably to watch people flounder and worry when things go wrong, which they definitely would. She had stopped Hawkmoth a month before the trip, but Mr. Bug took all the credit for it. The arrogant self centered bas*. Adrien kept giving her side glances that always made her feel uncomfortable and slightly disgusted. During school he would try to touch her with every chance he’d get. He almost discovered her wings at one point. She couldn’t do anything about it before because of the stupid your-rich-so-do-whatever-the-heck-you-want treatment. Now that Adrien’s family fortune is gone, and people don’t trust him because of what his dad did, so he has to be more careful. He now kept some distance, which she was extremely grateful for.

She would have broken his hand, she had imagined it plus other things more than once. But then Tom and Sabine would get in trouble by Gabriel for her actions. They didn’t deserve that, they had been nothing but good to her since they found her abandoned in that forest.

She would be fine though, as long as Lila had a grip on his arm and she was in the back, away from him. She listened to their tour guide, Richard Grayson, talk about the history and importance of WE. The architecture was brilliant really, and you couldn’t blame her for having to draw and sketch it. She often thought of Damian when she sketched. She used to leave drawings for him around the base, little things that expressed her adoration for him without getting too close. She wondered if he was still with the league, had he escaped, did he die? She hoped that wasn’t the case, she hoped that he would be alive and well. Bright orange and white wings nearly slapped her in the face if she hadn’t stopped right before the movement had occurred.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry Marinette! Sometimes my wings just spasm out of control like that! I didn’t hurt you did I?”

Marinette just silently rolled her eyes and took a few steps backward and watched the class glare at her waiting for her to comfort the liar. She would never lower herself to do that. She was still an Al Ghul afterall, even if she did leave it behind when she fled. She was thankful when lunch came, she waited far away from the line and watched silently from a dark corner to make sure no one would hurt her. Then she felt it, a hand touching her back feeling for something. She quickly and instinctively grabbed the arm and twisted it behind them pinning it behind their back at a painful angle.

“Ukhti, let go.”

Marinette knew that voice. She remembered that name and she could feel her heart stop. The lunchroom was silent as they watched the small bluenette silently and quickly release the “Ice Prince”. Everyone watched with bated breaths to see what would happen next. The boy’s wings were ruffled in agitation and fear.

“Where are they?”

He demanded. Marinette knew what he was talking about, she simply wrapped her arms around herself and turned her head away definitely.

“Why are you hiding them, Malak? Please.”

Marinette could feel her wings moving in defiance to what her brain was saying. They wanted to be shown, they wanted to be touched by her brother again. She looked down and slowly uncrossed her arms from her body. Damian gently took her hands in his and looked directly into her eyes.

“Everything will be ok, Taw'ami.”

She slowly nodded and with shaky fingers reached under her hoodie and began to slowly unwrap the tape that kept her wings confined. When all the tape was in her hands she hesitantly removed her hoodie and let her wings unfold from around herself and into the open. She had made shirts that let her wings slip through slits in the back that were tailored to her wings specifically and were most comfortable. Damian marveled at how big her raven wings had grown and how shiny they were. He reached out a hand slowly and gently ran his fingers down the inky black that was her wings.

Shouts of fear and accusations were thrown at her, mostly from her class. She didn’t listen though, she just observed. The tour guide was coming over now, probably to kick her out. He had such lovely wings though, they were a deep navy blue that looked similar to black with dark red and light blue running through them. They looked so well kept and soft.

“Damian, what’s happening? Who is this?”

“Grayson, meet my twin sister, Marinette.”

“You have a twin?!”

Richard exclaimed loudly, drawing even more attention. The insults and jeers stopped after that. She looked over at the class and smirked when she saw their shock and confusion.

“Yes, keep up.”

Damian said brusquely. They must know each other well then.

“Come, we must take her away from these imbeciles and take her to father.”

Damian grabbed her wrist and tugged, her quickly falling into line like she used to when he did this.

“Now tell me Ukhti, have you been taking care of yourself?”

She nodded as they came to an elevator and walked into it with Richard right behind them. Marinette felt her feathers fluff up nervously. She wasn’t in control of them right now, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Damian ran a hand gently down her right wing trying to smooth it down.

“Things will be fine Marinette. Just watch, father will be glad to meet you.”

She looked him in the eyes and squeezed her hands together.

“No, I have not told him about you. Things will be fine though.”

He seemed to understand her weird way of communicating, she still didn’t understand how he did. Richard cleared his throat and both turned to look at him.

“Sorry to interrupt, but um…I’m Dick, I’m Damian’s, and yours I guess, oldest brother. It’s nice to meet you.”

He spread his wings in a welcoming way that meant and showed safety and peace. Her wings involuntarily rose up as well to reciprocate his greeting. When the door to the elevator opened again she quickly forced her wings to hide on her back trying desperately to keep them from sight. Damian didn’t seem to like it, but he just grabbed her wrist and dragged her to a large office room. The plaque on the door read “CEO Bruce Wayne”. Their father was Bruce Wayne?! She couldn’t go in there, she couldn’t curse him and ruin his life. No, she had already messed up at the league, and she was just barely not messing up with Tom and Sabine, she would definitely ruin Bruce Wayne’s life, and she would not allow that to happen. She tugged at his grip desperately trying to get away.

“Marinette, stop. Your wings are not cursed, that was a lie.”

Marinette shook her head and kept trying to escape the iron-like grip.

“Do you not trust me anymore?”

She froze at that and quickly shook her head. Of course she trusted him, it was her that shouldn’t be trusted.

“Good, because we’re going in now.”

And that was that, because the door was now open and she was being dragged into the office room where their father and another boy with large bags under his eyes stared at them. Damian puffed up his chest and feathers letting his strong, big, and brilliant wings rise into the air.

“Father, this is your daughter, my twin, Marinette Erebus Al Ghul-Wayne.”

They both stared at her in shock and Marinette slowly and cautiously raised her despicable black wings into the air. Both stared at them in awe before looking back at her, but she didn’t meet their eyes. She didn’t want to see the disgust and hatred in their eyes.

After a few moments she looked up and saw their wings greeting hers like Dick’s had. Their father’s wings were a mix of black and dark grey alternating the color in each row of feathers. The other boy’s were black at the top and slowly turned to red at the bottom. But they were welcoming her openly, so that must mean something! Well, it was time to get to know her father, she guessed.

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introvert--weeb · 3 years ago

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Hello! I saw your post your opening le request so--

Aight here ya go! :D

May i have a request of le headcanons of Baji and Chifuyu with a darling fem reader who loves animals and wanted to be a veterinarian when they grow up.

Thank you so much for the request! I hope you like it :)

Chifuyu and Baji with f!reader who loves animals

TW: none

Chifuyu

As soon as you both had gotten together, Chifuyu had noticed just how much you loved animals. At first he had thought it was similar to how other middle school girls claimed they loved animals, finding them super cute and that's about it.

You on the other hand genuinely cared for animals in a way that had the blond falling more for you. It was no secret that the delinquent had a soft spot for cats, especially his own Peke J. How he loved to spoil the feline in any way he could.

It wasn't long into the relationship that Chifuyu had introduced you to Peke J. You had gushed over the small cat as soon as your eyes caught sight of him. What had meant to be a cute at home date had turned into you both doting on the boy's cat. Not that he really cared.

Some of your hobbies were feeding the stray cats that would wander your street. There would be regular cats that showed up, all of them ranging from older cats within their twilight years to kittens who had stumbled across your home during one their adventures. It came as no surprise to your boyfriend that you had named each one individually and could tell which one was which just by the meow they had.

You were truly amazing in Chifuyu's eyes.

Your love for animals did not only start and end with cats. You adored dogs, birds and wild creatures as well. Chifuyu could fondly remember the time you had nursed a baby squirrel back to health when it had fallen from the tree in your garden.

On a night where you were both hanging out with Peke J, you had expressed how you had always dreamed that you would become a veterinarian so that you could help as many sick and injured animals as you could. Being a great boyfriend, Chifuyu would support you as best he could to achieve your dream, mainly by helping you study and get the results you needed to get into the school you wanted.

Baji

The moment Baji met you, he knew you loved animals. After all, the cute meet story between you two, you were defending a family of stray cats from some high school scum that were harassing them. You may have been small and very innocent looking but you stood up for what you believed in. Baji had fallen for you once he saw how determined you were to protect the cats, so much so that he felt compelled to protect you by beating up those who stood against you.

A conversation that started once all the high schoolers were dealt with is what lead to the two of you being in a relationship. Knowing about your love of animals, Baji would use some of his pocket money to buy you small cat items (cat plushie, cat phone charm, cat pin) to remind you of him.

You and Baji would spend free time where neither of you had anything to do, buying cat food and feeding the strays you had protected that day. The kittens were now bigger and a lot more playful, reminding you of how your boyfriend was. And so you would call him 'kitten' while you two were alone.

During a particularly calm night where the two of you were riding around Shibuya, you had confessed how you always dreamed of becoming a veterinarian so that you could protect and save as many animals as you could. You even told him how you were already looking at schools which could give you the best chance at this.

Ever the supportive boyfriend, Baji would do whatever he could to be of help. Needed snacks because you were going to be studying? Consider them bought. In need of affection because exam stress has gotten to you? He was waiting with open arms to shower you with kisses and words of encouragement.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers headcanons #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu #chifuyu matsuno #keisuke baji x reader #baji x reader #keisuke baji #requested #anime drabbles

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plaidbooks · 3 years ago

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Cabin Life - First Date

A/N: I seriously fell in love with this AU so hard. If anyone needs me, I’ll be in a cabin with Sonny. Once again, thanks to @berniesilvas for fueling this AU and letting me scream at her about woodsman!Sonny.

Tags: injured birds, otherwise none

Words: 1529

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

After that meeting, Sonny called you, asking you on a date. You weren’t quite sure what to expect; you were still new in coming back to the woods, and you weren’t sure what a date really entailed. But, your parents were quick to mention, if it was a date with Sonny Carisi, then it would be fine.

“Everyone loves Sonny; he’s the nicest guy around, and a breath of fresh air in the community,” your mom said.

He showed up at your place that afternoon; he lived in a cabin about a mile away. Within walking distance, but not something you would particularly do on your own. He didn’t seem to mind, though; he wasn’t even out of breath.

“Hey doll. I was thinking we could go for a stroll in the woods? There’s a meadow in between our cabins that’s just breathtakin’ in the setting sunlight,” he said, smiling.

You agreed, grabbing your coat; the autumn air was starting to get a little chilly. Your parents greeted him, and he waved back, telling them he’d bring you home at a decent hour. You stifled a chuckle; you were both in your late 20s.

Your shoes crunched over the leaves covering the ground, Sonny crunching along right beside you. He was telling you about his family, about how they wanted him to visit for Thanksgiving, so he’d have to go back to Staten. As he talked, your hands brushed, and you gently took his hand in yours. He tripped over his words for a moment, then smiled and interlaced his fingers with yours before continuing on.

It had barely seemed like you had been with him before you were coming out of a copse of trees into a meadow. Soft grass to your knees swayed in the gentle breeze, and bees buzzed from flower to flower. The sunlight was dimming as the sun sunk beneath the trees.

“Wow,” you breathed, and Sonny squeezed your hand.

He took a step into the meadow, then stopped and turned to look at you. “Just wait; it gets better,” he promised. Eyes wide with awe, you let him guide you forward into the meadow, your eyes trying to take it all in. It was simply beautiful.

Rabbits hopped through the grass on the other side of the meadow, and you caught a family of deer standing just beyond the trees, watching you.

“Ohh! Lavender!” you announced, your eyes finding the purple flower swaying just to the right of you.

Sonny turned and found it. “I love lavender; it smells so good.”

“It’s a natural stress reliever! I infuse it with my oils and lotions,” you replied, smiling at him.

His eyes widened slightly. “Ya do? Do ya make lots of oils and lotions?”

“I’m trying to make more, actually, as well as soap; I only just started researching natural, herbal remedies. Now, if only I could keep my lavender alive,” you said sheepishly.

He gave you a grin. “Ya know, I grow lavender, too, fer the bees. Maybe I could take a look at yours? See if I can help?”

“Oh, would you please? I’d be so grateful!”

“Absolutely, doll. And maybe once ya have some oils, I can buy some off ya.”

You gave him a look. “You’re not giving me a cent; you didn’t charge me for that slice of apple pie, and I’m not charging you for oils. Besides, here.” You took a lavender flower between your thumb and forefinger, crushing it, then held your fingers to his nose. “Smell.”

He did as you asked, the intake of air tickling your skin. “That smells amazing,” he sighed.

“You can do that for a quick rush of stress relief; it’s for a quick fix, not long term. But it helps,” you explained.

He grinned widely at you. “Well, I’m certainly not stressed right now.”

You opened your mouth to slip out a retort when you heard a little chirping by your feet. You glanced down and Sonny must’ve heard it, too, because he also looked. He gently parted a patch of grass and uncovered a baby bird there. It looked barely old enough to leave its nest, so why was it there?

Sonny quickly ripped his plaid jacket off his shoulders—exposing the tight, white shirt and his strong arms—then swooped down. Carefully, he picked up the bird, who was chirping incessantly now.

“Poor little thing; probably didn’t succeed in his first flight,” he cooed, his expression soft as he looked at the creature. Then, he glanced up at you. “I’m sorry, doll. Do ya mind terribly if we cut our date a little short? I wanna take this little birdy home, make sure it’s okay before releasin’ him.”

You felt your respect for him grow. “Not at all. Mind if I tag along?”

“I’d love that,” he replied, smiling.

************************

You followed Sonny to his cabin, the bird chirping constantly. He brought it inside, placing it on his kitchen table and taking a seat in front of it. You sat down next to him and watched the bird while he scrolled through article after article on his phone pertaining to nursing birds back to health.

“Okay, so, this here says that the bird may just be in shock, and to put it in a cardboard box with a slightly ajar lid or towel. Then wait ta see if it flies away,” Sonny explained.

You nodded. “Should we take it back to the meadow, then?”

“Yeah; it’s a lil’ far, and I don’t think he’ll know how ta get back….”

You stood, smiling, “then let’s take it back.”

Sonny found a small box, and he put the bird—still nestled in his jacket—inside. Then he gingerly picked up the box, and you both headed back the way you came.

“I’m sorry, doll,” he said after a few steps. “I’m just draggin’ ya all over the place, and fer no real reason, and we missed the sun settin’ in the meadow.” He looked to the darkening sky, and picked up the pace of his steps.

You placed your hand on his shoulder. “Sonny, you have nothing to be sorry for; you were trying to help an animal in need. If anything, that makes you more attractive.”

A pink tint appeared on his ears and the spots on his cheek that his beard didn’t cover. “You really think I’m attractive?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “One of the most attractive people I’ve met.” That dopey smile of his grew twice as wide.

**********************

You both waited in the meadow until the baby bird finally regained its senses and flew from the box. Then Sonny figured it was time to take you home. You linked your arm with his as you walked, and he walked closer to you, your body heat colliding.Once at your cabin, you searched for something to say, to keep him there; you weren’t ready to say goodnight yet.

“Oh! The lavender!” you announced, and Sonny smiled, as if he knew you were delaying. You tugged him back to your herb garden, and he took a close look at your slowly dying lavender with the light of his phone’s flashlight. He touched the crumbling leaves, then the soil, his brow furrowed.

“What kinda soil are ya usin’?” he asked, his voice serious.

You rose an eyebrow. “Just…regular, I guess?”

He nodded before looking up at the black sky covered in stars, judging what, you didn’t know. “Ya may need ta replant it elsewhere,” he finally said. “Ya need soil with good drainage; this soil is a little compacted. If ya separated it from the others, put it in soil mixed with grit, it should do wonders here.”

“Ugh, you’re a godsend, Sonny. I’ll dig it up and replant it tomorrow. Thank you so much,” you replied, giving him a hug.

He chuckled into your ear. “Don’t thank me yet; wait ta see if that fixes the problem first.”

You leaned back, nodding and smiling at him. He grinned back, and then you were kissing, his beard tickling your chin. You both still had your arms around the other, holding each other close as your lips moved against one another. He licked your lips, and you sighed, letting his tongue explore your mouth, rubbing and dancing with your own.

Slowly, he pulled his lips from yours, then snuck another small kiss, then another, and another. Finally, he rested his forehead against yours, both of you breathing in the other’s air.

“Best. First date. Ever,” you murmured, and he huffed out a laugh against your lips.

“Even with the bird?” he asked, making you laugh this time.

“Especially with the bird,” you replied, and he smirked before kissing you again. You could never tire of his lips against yours, his beard tickling your chin, leaving a slight rash. Your hands when to his soft hair, and you grabbed a handful, giving him a soft tug. Everywhere he touched sent fire through you, and with his body pressed up against yours, it felt like you were an inferno. And you knew that from this moment on, you didn’t want to be put out.

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #my writing

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let-me-write-shit · 4 years ago

Note

Hiiii! I absolutely love your writing. Could you do an imagine based off of your pregnancy one shot? Since H is incredibly private, would the couple be able to hide her pregnancy from the public and then announce it similar to like Kylie Jenner’s video diary of the whole experience? Thanks!!

A/N: Ok I was OBSESSED with this request, but for some reason I found it very difficult to write, so I’m so sorry if it’s shit. Hope you like it <3

Word Count: 2,698

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

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Friendly reminder to please like and/or reblog. It helps more than you think :)

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Is Forever Enough?

From the moment Harry found out he and Y/N were expecting their first child, he knew he wanted to document everything. He had been in the habit of capturing moments throughout their relationship, mainly of big events, but from this moment on, he wanted to capture it all. Little clips of every doctor’s appointment, every craving his wife had, every heartbeat, and every little kick. He wanted video documentation of the life growing inside his wife’s belly and everything that happened during that time. They had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was finally here, he wanted to make sure they would never forget a single second of it. From telling their closest friends and family members, designing the nursery, their tiny baby shower, attended by the select few that were lucky enough to know their secret.

At first, keeping silent was a way to protect themselves in case Y/N’s pregnancy didn’t stick like their fertility doctor had warned them was a possibility. It took them nearly two years to conceive, and the thought of going through a miscarriage in front of millions of watchful eyes was terrifying. But by the time they became aware that they weren’t going to miscarry, they had gone so long without announcing it that there wasn’t a point to do it. Why ruin something that was so well hidden?

The decision not to announce their pregnancy to the public wasn’t a hard decision to make. Harry was private, anyway, and everyone knew that. He was rarely on social media and didn’t talk about his private life to many people, and those who he did talk to were very loyal and trusting. They just wanted to enjoy being pregnant without the prying eyes of strangers and it was fairly easy keeping it under wraps considering how private they were, to begin with.

The timing of Y/N’s pregnancy helped, too. The early part of her pregnancy was during the summer, so they could enjoy tropical holidays together without worrying about being seen because she simply wasn’t showing yet. But, towards the end, it got harder to conceal, like during award season in the fall when an oversized shirt or puffy dress couldn’t conceal the roundness of her bump and plumpness of her cheeks and lips. It was the first award season she hadn’t accompanied Harry to in years and people began to get suspicious.

That’s when the rumors of her possible pregnancy started. Of course, no one could prove anything. But that, along with the lack of sightings of Y/N was enough proof for some. Luckily, nothing more came of it other than whispers. Harry had stopped doing interviews when he first got wind of the rumors, so no one could catch him off guard in uncomfortable positions or having to lie to protect his wife, and he began to focus his attention back on his music, halting his pursuance of on-screen work for the time being until after their baby boy’s arrival. Instead, he was the man behind the camera.

For the most part.

There were times when certain family members or friends would pick up their camera and film some things for them, capturing little intimate moments of the parents-to-be. They even enlisted the help of Harry’s on-tour photographer, Helene Pambrun, to help film the birth of their baby. Though she focused mainly on photography, her knowledge of videography and style of filming fit exactly with what the couple wanted, and Helene was all too honored to be a part of the day.

And although the birth of their child was, albeit, a bit traumatic, they couldn’t have asked for a sweeter baby boy. Born on a frigid Friday evening on March eighteenth after twenty hours of active labor and an onslaught of chaos, Paxton Robin Styles was born, tiny, healthy, and beautiful, surrounded by family that already loved him so dearly.

The hospital staff was wonderful in keeping their attendance private, no one having a clue that they were even there. No news articles or whispers were heard of their newest addition to which they were grateful to be allowed to enjoy their first week home, getting acclimated to being new parents. They had fallen in love with him.

“Y/N!” Harry exclaimed, bouncing into the nursery on a Monday afternoon as his wife fed their son, his phone in hand, and a bright smile on his face.

Y/N looked up, surprised and slightly offended, “Don’t ever call me by my name again,” she joked, stroking their son’s cheek.

Harry laughed, “Sorry, love. But, look! It’s here!”

He held his phone in front of her face, playing the edited version of their pregnancy and birth journey in video form one of Harry’s editor friends kindly put together for them after the birth of their son. The five minute and fifty-one-second video filled with shortened clips of the last nearly ten months of their lives in becoming first-time parents. They watched it together, occasionally glancing down at their baby that had fallen asleep while eating in Y/N’s arms, in awe that this was their life.

Tears were streaming down both of their faces, and Y/N giggled, wiping her husband’s cheek with her free hand. He was an emotional being, she knew that, but she had no idea what the effect of fatherhood would be on her Harry. She couldn’t have picked a better partner to raise a child with.

“I think we should post it,” Harry said, causing Y/N’s eyes to go wide.

“Post it? Like...social media?”

Harry nodded, “Well, we can’t keep him a secret forever. People are already starting to talk. I’d rather announce it on our own terms than on someone else’s. We can still stay as private as possible, I’ve already talked to Jeffrey and my publicist about it. I just...he makes me so proud and I feel like I need to show people that.”

Y/N smiles sweetly at her husband, taking his hand that rested on the arm to the nursing chair and pulling it up to her lips, kissing it gently. “Okay. We can post it.”

Later that evening, the internet was in an uproar and their phones were blowing up like crazy, for on both of their Instagrams they posted a grey-scale picture of a name tag sticker that read “Hello, I’m: P”, captioned ‘link in bio’, where they were directed to a youtube link posted under Harry’s account.

As soon as the video began, Harry’s soft voice was heard, singing his version of ‘Lullaby’ by the Dixie Chicks in the background as unseen footage of their wedding a few years prior had fizzled into view, video of their first dance as husband and wife played while the tail end of a speech made by Harry’s mom, Anne, was heard over everything else.

“We are so incredibly grateful to have Y/N now an official part of our family and I wish you both years of love, health, and happiness….and giving me tons and tons of grandchildren,” earning laughter from the attendees, “I love you both to pieces. Congratulations.”

The video slowly changed to little snippets. Y/N running towards the beach, holding her hat tight on her head with one hand while the other was holding onto Harry’s hand that was at the bottom of the screen as the breeze whipped at Y/N’s hair and sarong, cut to a clip of the camera propped on the beach overlooking the two of them sitting in the sand, looking out into the ocean, Y/N’s head falling on Harry’s shoulder and him kissing the top of her head as the sun set.

Next was a scene during one of Harry’s tour where someone filmed Y/N at the front of the stage in a VIP area beside a few of their friends, dancing and singing along with Harry who stood in front of her, smiling and singing at her.

The next images were upsetting. When they first started trying, they recorded videos of themselves awaiting the results of their tests, hoping to capture the moment they found out on film. One after another, the video showed negative test upon negative test, wanting to document the struggle they faced in fertility, one of the main reasons they decided to post this video. If it helped just one person who struggled with infertility and gave them a bit of hope, they needed to show it.

They showed clips of Harry holding an emotional Y/N in his arms, her eyes filled with tears and a quivering lip as he kissed her forehead and stroked her hair. Until the next clip showed. A shaky still of a screen that read ‘Pregnant’ that panned up to show a reflection of Harry and his wife in the mirror, Y/N pulling the test up to her face with a smile while Harry looked down at his wife in pride, softly touching her flat belly.

Clips of an ultrasound showed, Y/N stomach looking more bloated than anything as the doctor slid the wand around on her belly, Harry filming while squeezing his wife’s hand. His voice could barely be heard over the music of the video as he cooed, “Is that it, right there? So little…”

They included a few announcements they made to family members. How they told Anne while on an end of summer family vacation with a little jewelry box that opened up to two little birds and an egg in a birds nest with a note that said ‘A little birdy told me you are going to be a Nana.’ making Anne burst into tears, hugging them. And when they told Y/N’s best friend by giving her an orange and saying, “That’s how big our baby is right now,” which caused confusion before the screaming.

Y/N had filmed mirror clips of her growing belly in the floor-length mirror that stood in the corner of their room and had gotten clips of Harry laying beside her bump, his hands rubbing her stomach, clasped on either side as he sang, or talked, or read stories.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” he could be heard saying before kissing the top of her bump, looking up and past the camera to his wife, smiling lovingly.

There were images of Christmas, Gemma having caught an intimate moment between the two of them, Y/N sat in between Harry’s legs on the floor, mugs of hot chocolate in her hands and still in their Christmas Pajamas, Harry’s cheek pressed against hers as he held up a blue Gucci baby suit in front of them, smiling and gushing about how small it was.

The couple’s silhouette could be seen in the dark light sky as they stood in the middle of the field, illuminated by the New Years’ fireworks that went off in the distance, Y/N’s belly pressed against Harry’s stomach as they kissed intimately amongst their friends.

A small baby shower inside one of their London country homes was next, littered with a few familiar faces along with some that were likely family members. Harry still sang in the background as the two of them opened gifts, smiling and laughing with each other, genuine happiness and love could be seen on everyone’s faces and a few people popped onto the screen to say a few words for the unborn baby.

“You have wonderful parents,” Y/N’s parents grinned, her mom getting teary-eyed. “I can’t wait to see the person you become.”

Anne’s bright, shining smile was next, “You’re going to do amazing things. You are so loved.”

“Hi, my sweet nephew! It’s Auntie Gemma,” she grinned, waving at the camera, “I can’t wait to meet you and snuggle you! I hope you grow up to be just as kind and loving as your parents. We are so lucky to have you in our lives.”

Harry and Y/N were seen in the background, Y/N eating a slice of cake while Harry casually kissed her cheek before stealing a bite of her food, earning a smile from his pregnant wife

Video panned over their newly renovated nursery, mostly designed to be gender-neutral with little hints of outer space; moon lights, a solar system mobile hanging above the cot, with a star blanket draped over the nursing chair. Harry moved the camera to Y/N who was hanging some onesies in the nursery closet, smiling and waving at the camera.

Next, they were laying in bed. It was dark and, but a glow from a nightstand shone and Y/N’s belly was visible, round and very pregnant, a few freckles near her navel, and the faintest linea nigra could be seen running from her belly button down towards the bottom of her belly. Their voices were barely audible over the music still sung by Harry. A little ripple on her belly cast from left to right and then her belly distorted a little as their baby boy kicked and pressed against the center of her bump, making the couple laugh and Harry’s hand appeared, softly rubbing where his son’s foot would be.

It changed. They were in a hospital now, Y/N in a grey and white spotted hospital gown. The camera was propped on a table filming Y/N who sat on the edge of her bed, moving her hips from side to side as she breathed heavily, moaning, while Harry kneeled on the floor in front of her, his hands on her hips and squeezing to relieve some pressure. They were talking to each other, concern, and empathy clear on Harry’s face.

In the next clip, Y/N was laying back in her hospital bed, sucking on gas and air. Harry was filming this time, and his Anne could be seen this time, sitting on Y/N’s other side holding her daughter-in-law’s free hand. Y/N put the gas and air down, gave a thumbs-up, and smiled, “We’re having a baby today!” as her mother-in-law smiled brightly.

The footage faded to black before it flashed to Y/N looking at someone just out of view as the disembodied voice said, “Whenever you feel the urge to push, let us know. You’ll be meeting your son soon.”

It faded to black again, Harry’s singing more evident in these moments, louder, as the footage flashed back into focus. The camera was, once again, being propped up on a table. At Y/N’s head on either side stood Anne who was still holding her daughter-in-law’s hand, while Harry stood, back to the camera, mostly blocking the view of his wife as one hand stroked her hair and the other held her hand. The doctors could be heard saying, “Deep breath” before Y/N took a deep breath in, bringing her legs to her chest with the help of a few nurses that could hardly be seen, bearing down and pushing as the nurses counted and Harry said, “Great job, love. Keep going. You’re so strong.”

The screen went black. A doctor’s voice was heard saying, “One more big push.” Y/N could be heard taking a deep breath, and a little exasperated yelp before gasping from both Harry and Anne followed by the beautiful, gurgling cry of their baby. Harry’s sweet singing voice in the background of the video got louder and finally, the video came back into view of a little name card on the bassinet that read:

Name: P, Styles.

DOB: March 18th

Weight: 6 lbs 12 oz

Height: 20 inches

Time: 8:39 PM

The camera panned down to the top of a blue baby cap with a white embroidered ‘P’ in the center, moving as their son wiggled in his bassinet, the hushed reassuring whispers of his parents heard just behind the camera as little lip-smacking and coos could be heard from the baby.

The screen went blank as the song started to end and white words appeared on the screen.

“Welcome to the world, Baby P. We love you to the ends of the earth.

Love,

Mummy and Daddy”

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Taglist:

@odetostep , @thurhomish

#Harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles blurb #harry styles dad #dad!harry #pregnant #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles smut #harry #one direction #1d

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fantasy-anatomy-analyst · 3 years ago

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(Image description: three illustrations of drow in pairs to show their eusocial hierarchy. First is the leadership, consisting of Matriarchs and Chamberlains. The Matriarch here is shown to be pregnant, wearing a long dress and a spiderweb veil. The Chamberlain is wearing a spiderweb-themed top made of leather straps, as well as tight pants and a decorative loincloth. Second are the advisors, Avaune and Governesses. The Avaune here is an older drow using a cane and wearing a simple shirt and pants outfit, with a golden spiderweb hairpiece. The Governess is a young adult female drow wearing a silver spiderweb hairpiece, a long skirt, and a sort of poncho with clasps at the front and a spiderweb cape at the back. Third and final, the commoners, which consists of workers and wanderers. the worker drow is wearing a basic sweater and pants, the wanderer has a more colorful outfit with flamboyant sleeves and a long draped cloth at the waist. All the drow have purple skin, white hair, and a monkey-like tail. End description.)

My drow have a eusocial hierarchy, much like another mammal that lives underground: naked mole rats. The average drow is infertile, with the fertile males and females being the Matriarchs and Chamberlains, and most of the colony being their children, aside from the Avaune. The previous post was about drow evolution, and I also have a drow masterpost.

Under the cut I've written lengthy descriptions of each role listed above. If you enjoy my work, please consider supporting me on Patreon!

The leadership of a drow colony are the parents of the colony. The Matriarchs are the literal mothers of the colony, giving birth to all the babies. A Matriarch holds the highest rank in the social hierarchy, and is regarded as a spiritual guiding figure. She connects the colony to the mother goddess, usually depicted as a spider. Matriarchs must earn their place by going through a series of trials before they are allowed to go through the medical process of hormone alteration that will allow them to bear children. These trials are based on old drow legends, such as the stores about how their people migrated underground, lead by their mothers to safety, where a giant ethereal spider taught them to spin light into thread. Most Matriarchs are cisgender women, though there have been some exceptions. In order to become a Matriarch, a drow must meet a series of requirements, undergo the trials, and then receive medical treatment to alter their hormones. Like naked mole rats, afab drow all have suppressed hormones, which can change naturally to make them fertile. The medical treatment is just more reliable than waiting for the natural shift. As the Matriarch is expected to birth many children, and many of them are born as twins, they just tend to be cisgender women. There are medical operations for trans folks of any species to completely swap their reproductive systems, but the complicated nature of drow hormones make it difficult for a trans drow woman to actually become pregnant without other health issues. A Matriarch might give birth once a year, at most. It takes a very long time for a new Matriarch to establish a full colony.

The Chamberlains are the fathers of the colony. They are fertile males from outside colonies, trained from puberty in the ways of social politics and management. While all drow females are capable of going through a hormone shift to become fertile, male drow are almost all infertile and cannot change this. Only a few random males will become fertile during puberty. They are carefully identified and go through special education so they can become effective leaders. A fertile male drow is recognizable first by his behavior, as his instincts drive him to want to leave his home colony. Physically, the genitals of a male drow are also distinctly more developed than the average infertile drow. It is much more common for Chamberlains to be trans or nonbinary, as compared to Matriarchs, since they seem to be fertile completely at random and no one has yet discovered a way to intentionally cause fertility in amab drow. After they finish their training, these drow are sent to the Matriarchs of other colonies as a way to establish allegiances. A Chamberlain must prove his worth to his new matriarch and her colony by earning their trust. If he does a bad enough job, he will be kicked out by the colony. Colonies typically have 3-5 Chamberlains per Matriarch, and it is considered poor manners to try and figure out which Chamberlain is one's father, since they don't want to cause disruption through favoritism.

Some fertile male drow refuse this role entirely and become wanderers instead.

The Avaune, which is a gender neutral title for "aunt" and "uncle", are older drow who assist a new Matriarch in building her colony. They come over with her from her home colony, as they are her siblings. Usually they are older than a new Matriarch and volunteer to help her. With their advice and assistance, Matriarchs and Chamberlains are more effective leaders and new colonies are more easily established. Young drow often go to them for advice as well.

The Governesses are training to be Matriarchs. They are partway through their hormonal shift, having already met the requirements and gone through the trials. Their breasts develop first, allowing them to assist the Matriarch with newborns who need nursing. Although they are the Matriarch's daughters and study under her to gain the experience they will need to start their own colonies, they are also expected to help the Matriarch solve problems and advise her on certain issues. This helps them gain the necessary critical thinking skills they will need to be leaders of their future colonies.

The average infertile drow is called a worker. They fill a number of positions according to their own skills and desires, though of course there are many required jobs as well. Scouts, tunnelers, and cartographers explore the caves and make sure they are safe to travel, locating and recording natural resources and dangers. Weavers make cloth and textiles from the special moonlight threads the spinners craft. Food, shelter, and heat are all provided by various workers within the colony. They are all siblings, and they must work together to maintain the general health and safety of their entire colony. The population of a single colony with just one Matriarch is usually quite small, perhaps 50-80 workers old enough to be helpful. It is common for two or three colonies of varying ages to share a cavern, keeping themselves organized by wearing a specific woven pattern or crest to denote their personal colony.

Wanderers, the nomadic fertile male drow who choose not to become Chamberlains, are at the bottom of the hierarchy. They will often rename themselves when they leave their home colony, perhaps naming themselves after things they find after leaving the caves, like a bird or flower. Wanderers travel all over the place, interacting with the world. Anyone who has partial drow ancestry can most likely trace their origins to the wanderers. Occasionally, a wanderer will find another drow colony and pop in for a visit to the Matriarch there. If she is not currently pregnant, a Matriarch may decide to mate with the wanderer, which will provide her colony with a little more genetic variation. When she is done with him, the Chamberlains chase him out. It has become a bit of a ritual, over time. There are much theatrics around the arrival and ousting of a wanderer. They take the role of outcasts and scoundrels, though everyone knows they're actually quite important in preventing the general population from hitting genetic bottlenecks.

#drow #eusocial #eusocial hierarchy #worldbuilding #image description #accessible art #accessible images #my designs

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kindaangelic · 5 years ago

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The Farmer, Starring Damian Wayne

I mean, really, of course Damian has a farm. Bruce eventually tires of having Batcow in the cave, and the Turkey keeps leaving droppings, so out they go into the backyard which is several acres in size.

So it falls to Damian to don his little boots and overalls (that Dick bought at Baby GAP) and tend to his growing menagerie.

This is a day in the life of Farmer Dami.

Damian's Diary

7:00am

Milk Batcow

Give Batcow a wash and take her to graze

Return to cow enclosure, tell Batcow that she is a most excellent bovine

8:00am

Breakfast for me, eat the sandwich and fruit that Grayson brings outside because Father won't allow me to track farm dirt into the house

Pretend to ignore Grayson taking pictures and squealing about how cute I looks in my overalls

8:30am

Feed the chickens

Collect their eggs

Chase the rooster away from the hens, that awful cad, always trying to defile the noble hens

Play with the chicks (don't let Todd see, he will guffaw like a baboon)

9:00am

Find the feral cat that lives in the bushes, she has recently had kittens

Take the runt of the litter to nurse to full health

I hereby name you Hardian the Kitten

Of course I shall keep him Father, he is so small but he deserves a chance to live, unlike Drake

10:00am

What ho, Todd

Can you drive me to the pet store, I need to pick up formula for the kitten

Perhaps we can buy Drake a pet skink, it represents his soul

11:30am

Here Drake, I bought you a pet skink

Oh my lord, he named it Kon

Argh who cares

Grayson, can you show me how to make a bottle of formula?

Drink up, little Hadrian for you must grow strong and large

12:00pm

Time for lunch, Batcow

Drake what are you doing here

Her name is not steak, it is Batcow, now begone!

Batcow, next time you see Drake, trample him

1:00-5:00pm

Training and studies

5:00-6:00pm

Clean the animal enclosures

Ye gods, birds, how much do you defecate, this is abnormal

6:00-9:00pm

Early dinner, then stretch and prep for patrol

Make sure Drake takes his medicine

9:00pm-2:00am

Patrol

Say hello to the feral cats

Go back home

Accept goodnight kissy from Grayson

Cease laughing Todd, you are just jealous that you do not get a kissy

Sleep

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whump-town · 4 years ago

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In His Eyes

Warning: abuse, mental health, lots of talk about food and starvation, hospital, suicide attempt, suicidal ideations, cutting, and self-harm, cursing, and it’s just very dark

Listen, this might be a little much. The themes are dark and it’s far from a happy story

Main Characters Are Aaron Hotchner, Jessica Brooks, and Haley Hotchner

Probably OOC but I don’t care

His pulse is slow against her fingers but there. She calls 911, sobbing. Choking around the weight of his name on her tongue. Will they let her back this time? To hold his hand? He gets nightmares. He won’t like being alone. “He’s--He’s twenty-two,” she rasps, brushing his hair from his eyes. “This is his first year of law school.” And he’s so fucking smart. She needs them to know that. He’s kind. Always remembers her favorite foods and makes her laugh. He’s just a kid. They’re just kids and he’s the only person she’s ever loved. So, they have to help. Please, God, just help.

Final warning for themes of abuse, mental health, food, starvation, hospitals, suicide attempts, suicidal ideations, cutting, and self-harm

Word count: 9,137

For as long as Jessica Brookes has known her brother, he’s had the thin scars marring the pale, milky flesh of his arms. The first time she’d seen them, she was sixteen too old to play stupid but too afraid to call them what they were. At the time, he hadn’t been her brother. In fact, to the world, he had been no one at all. A ghost that walked the halls of their high school with his pained, sluggish movements and seemingly unseeing eyes. Sweaters dripping down his skinny frame and jeans that were made to fit someone nearly double his size. But, for what little credit it’s worth, no one had ever said a thing about him. He was no one. Nothing.

Haley had seen past all of that. Of course, she had. Haley had never loved anything whole. She drank from cracked plastic straws for fear of what would happen should she leave them behind. Thrown out, that’s what. The world has no use for a straw that can not do it’s one feasible job. Not to Haley, though. Their father used to call her Saint Haley, the patron saint of the discarded. And naturally, Haley clung to the idea of Saint Jude. Another lost soul, seemingly just like her, out there to collect others. A reminder that even the lost aren’t alone and that they may not be as lost as they think. And so how could any of them be surprised when Haley, who hung the moon and stairs, brought home her own lost being? Stumbling in clothes too large for his lithe frame and stinking of booze and cigarettes.

Aaron Hotchner has no place in their home. Jessica had been unwavering in this. Look at him. A semester ago, he’d been kicked off the track team for pot. He can’t even go out and get drunk with everyone else. He smokes cheap cigarettes out behind the Miller’s barn and, thought no one could prove it, they all blamed him for the dead birds and cat half-buried in the woods by the school. How could it not be him? With those large, trembling hands and his inability to stay away from trouble. How many fights had he been in this year? How many times had Jessica come from one of her classes to find the student body surrounding his bowed back as he sat over the hips of another boy, mercilessly beating him? So, how could that dirty boy be worth her sister? If she’d asked him, he’d answer her with the same thought Jessica knew better than to speak around Haley. He doesn’t.

So, how could any of this add up? Aaron Hotchner like a straw bent with damage has good in him too. Jessica had never seen the other boys. The way they pick and preen at him. Smacking his head and kicking at his ankles. Calling names at his back. The teachers never do a damn thing and why should they? He’s not the smartest kid in their classes. He sits in the back. Turns in mediocre work. He doesn’t get encouragement. “I know you’re capable of more than this, Aaron.” No, he gets sighs and shaking heads. So, when he takes action. Thrown to the end of his line, he is the bad guy. Because Aaron Hotchner is just the kid no one likes. His father’s name is the only thing keeping him from getting expelled. No one ever cares to see how he flinches from his father’s touch or the pain in his eyes when new bruises form across his body. Because they don’t care. But Haley. Haley cared and her love had been her one and only rebellion.

Jessica had been the sort to fall for the beauty of rebellion, not Haley. Her first boyfriend had been a biker, a senior who would break her heart. Rolling with anger at her father’s words, that she might be too young to know anything about love, had fallen head over heels for a girl in her biology class. And while she hadn’t given a thing to her senior ex-boyfriend of three months, she gave everything to that girl. Sarah Halls with her bright brown eyes and soft blonde hair. Which had effectively taken much of the heat off of Haley and Aaron. While that had not been the intended outcome, Jessica hadn’t minded taking it for his little sister. She’d found it entirely worth it when Sarah broke up with her a year and a half later. Which, to a heartbroken sixteen-year-old, had been everything. Years and years to which she could never get back. So she did what broken people do and spiraled into every self-destructive tendency she could think, that she could buy.

And Aaron had found her. Sweet Aaron with those thoughtless brown eyes and haggard discoloration over his exhausted face. She had slapped him when he first attempted to collect her. Sloppy drunk, high, and convinced that the world should just end right here. This misery she felt unmoving and forever. Despite what could be assumed about his body beneath those oversized sweaters, old and worn year-round, he is strong. While she kicked, crying, and distraught, he had lifted her into his arms and taken her. One arm under her legs and the other braced against her back. Not so much as a blink, not a frown, or scowl of pain. He had simply looked to Haley, waiting for her to direct him. Slowly, shocked by both of them, Haley had opened the car door and allowed Aaron to place Jessica in.

She’d never forget that night. The way he’d crouched on the floor in front of her bed and wiped her make-up away while Haley held her. His eyes, she discovered, were not unseeing. Darkened with his focus, she could see every thought cross through his mind. The kind, gentle strokes of the rag in his hand over her nose and across her lips. Loving.

“Aaron?”

He had startled as if expecting her to be past the point of cohesiveness. She knew, later, he hadn’t even known that she knew his name. What had she called him in the months since Haley brought him home? Had she ever really looked at him? Allowed herself to even think about learning to love him with even a fraction of the devotion Haley has? Now, those eyes darting between hers, he hums. As he often does.

Gently, slowly (with the same apprehension she’d watched Haley show each time she reached for him) Jessica places her clammy palm to his cheek. He stiffens beneath her fingertips but doesn’t avert his gaze or move to pull away. “Thank you,” she whispers, dragging her fingers against his cheeks. Here, she can see more than she needs to. The deep scar on his cheek and another that runs with his jaw. How each movement of the rag moves the sleeves on his shirt just enough to allow her a hint of what lies beneath. The skin of his wrist raised. Scarred.

She looks back at his face. Haley and Aaron may only be slightly younger than her but they seem like babies here. Now. “I’ll still kill you if you hurt my baby sister,” she whispers, closing her eyes with a smile. She hears his soft puffing laughter as if a hand in his chest squeezes his lungs tightly to stop any real noise. And she realizes she’s never heard him laugh. Real, deep, unhinged. Haley squeezes her stomach and she’s pulled back to them.

When Haley is sixteen and Aaron seventeen (Jessica nineteen and struggling through the second and last year of college), his father dies. Mopping up her tears with a coffee-stained napkin, Jessica’s attention had quickly been turned upside down. How could she waste her worries on Sociology when all she can see is Aaron's skinny little wrists and the scars on his face. The bruises up and down his back. Skeletal, sweet Aaron. She returns home as quickly as she can. Though she out-right refuses it the first time, her best friend gives her money for the bus fare. Her father could not spare her the money. She’s only in college because of a scholarship, they just have the money to spare. No matter how many times Haley called, voice thick with tears, and promising things were okay there at home could Jessica stand to believe her. So she took the money.

She arrived back to their silent quaint town on Tuesday to find Aaron had been in the hospital since Saturday. Refusing to eat or move. Restrained like an animal. She might have thrown a fit. Maybe she should have. The nurses stand at the doors of the intensive care unit and inform her that the floor has strict rules. That Haley can not come back. They don’t allow minors onto the floor but had they not broken that very rule allowing Aaron in? So, why not let the rules slip one more time? For Haley, for Aaron, unless they really want to watch that boy die. Is that what they want? And still, they declined her. Sensing the end of the nurse’s patience Jessica had pulled herself together and succumbed. Fine, yes, she’ll go back. Just her.

And there he is. Sweet Aaron. With those eyes and the bruises. The hospital gown leaves nothing to the imagination. She’s nineteen and he’s seventeen. Children. Too young for the pain of life and the coil of death. It isn’t until this moment that she realizes she loves him. There had been a time when she thought it was even crazy that she might love Haley. So, she’d been startled and hesitant with the idea of being inclined to love Haley’s future spouse. And it would not matter if Haley and Aaron broke-up today, she would still love him. As she suspects Haley would too. Because Aaron is a fighter and there’s something about him that just draws you in. Perhaps it’s the surprise he exhibits when you’re kind to him. Taken aback by gentleness and love. Never understanding how you might have come to love his thoughtfulness. Him.

“What are you doing?” The room is silent. There is no need for a heart monitor, just the IV fluids snaking into the back of his hand. Her father had told her about the doctor’s threatening an NG tube which, at seventeen, he doesn’t have the legal authority to deny. So, if this tirade of his goes on he’ll have to suffer through the procedure. But she knows not to waste her time on a speech about his actions and their consequences. Aaron isn’t stupid.

The moons of distress under his dark eyes look daunting on his handsome face. He’d grown into his body while she was away and it had made her proud to see. Her mother’s apple pies had done wonders for him. Having a steady place to come home to, even if it’s the couch in their living room, had transformed him. Now, he takes a moment to understand her. All the weight he’d put on melted right back off. “I’m tired,” he answers. It requires a breath that pulls his shoulders to his ears. His thin, pale lips parting.

She wants to scream at him. Of course, you’re tired! When was the last time you ate? The last night you slept through? But she looks back at those eyes, little mirrors filled with tears, and she leans down and kisses his forehead. It requires no thought, no hesitation to pull him to her. To wrap her arms around him. He pushes his head against her chest, face pressed into her sweater. “I’m sorry,” he whispers thickly. And with her eyes closed, she apologies too. For not coming back sooner. For not being here when they needed her.

“I know,” she answers, running her fingers through the back of his hair. He sleeps and she stays right there. He wakes a few times. Mouth too dry to speak but those dark eyes are always seeing. Always taking in every bit of information he can. She doesn’t leave. Sometimes she’s reading from textbooks. Stalking around the end of his bed with a phone in her hand, angrily speaking to whoever it is on the other end of the line. He looks up and finds her sleeping a lot. Her long legs pulled onto the chair with her and he wished he could move. Find the strength to wake her and move her to the bed.

His mother never comes. Sean calls but it’s bitter and Jessica can see how upset Aaron is getting so she hastens it’s end. Those calls stop coming when Jessica can properly defend that they only make him worse. Proof that getting better isn’t linear even though she wishes for it to be. She just wants Monday when he eats a snack and laughs at her silly joke for Wednesday to come and him still to be light. Not wrapped like a tight coil, arms around his stomach and crying in pain. But health isn’t linear and Aaron has never done anything the easy way.

Three months. For three months after his father’s death, Aaron sits in that hospital. He spends a month in the ICU and two more in general. Seeing Haley both helps and impedes. Jessica finds herself parenting the both of them. Leading Haley to show her when Aaron needs them to step in versus when it’s just best to leave him to his own devices. Because it looks cruel but he needs the silence. Slowly, he finds his feet once again but he’s fallen behind in school and if he wants to graduate on time he’ll have to spend all summer making it up.

But that wasn’t the problem with Virginia summer’s.

“Aren’t you hot?”

Wearing his signature long sleeve, Aaron goes without comment to help Roy dig the ponds up. He hasn’t spoken since being released but he didn’t speak too much before. It’s hardly noticeable to anyone but Jessica and Haley but they both have their own problems to attend to. Jessica is once again taking their heat with her larger news: she’s dropping out of college. So, Aaron’s silence has taken the back burner.

Looking down at his clothed arms, Aaron shakes his head. Continues digging.

Jessica looks up from the porch, waiting for the moment she needs to step in. Legs outstretched on the wooden swing, Jessica looks at the words on her book but takes nothing in. She’s pretending to read. Her father pushes Aaron some more. Offering a tank top or even just a white t-shirt.

“It’s too hot for all that nonsense,” Roy comments, motioning to Aaron’s worn sweater.

Before Aaron can even start doing his rapid, panicked blinking Jessica clears her throat from the porch. “Stop patronizing him, dad.”

Roy huffs but lays off.

For that exact moment, she’s the hero but she’s just a coward. Too afraid to allow the conversation on. Perhaps she should have let her father push him a little more. Make Aaron realize what he’s doing to himself. What he’s doing to all of them. Things aren’t what they used to be. He’s not alone. Can’t he see that?

No. He can’t see that. What he sees is a family he’s not a part of. Painfully reminded around every twist and turn just how alone he is. On Christmas the traditions of theirs that he stumbles over. He’s never decorated a Christmas tree or baked an apple pie. Haley does it without blinking, smiling to encourage him along but he just doesn’t know.

They change. He graduates on time and a year later she does too. With Jessica right there, always encouraging, and positive they both go to college. Haley falls for the science of psychology and Aaron falls head over heels for political science.

For four years its as if that boy never existed. He gets a second wind. A new chance.

But the damage is there and habits are so hard to beat.

Haley comes home early from class. Tuesdays usually mean her days don’t end until nearly seven at night. She’s got study hall and a sophomore that she tutors in Chemistry. Today, the kid had canceled their appointment, and the snow forced her home. Coming in, she’d been excited to find his coat already on the rack. Eagerly she’d torn through their tiny apartment to find him. He wasn’t in the kitchen, despite that being his favorite room in the house. He seems to always be making something, perpetually hungry. The living room had his things, briefcase open, and papers a mess. He can’t seem to think in clean rooms, always has to dirty them up. Their room was barren, not even his half of the bed disturbed. Leaving the bathroom.

Knocking against the solid door, she eases the doorknob open when he doesn’t call out. “Aaron?” Something deep had ached in her chest when she saw the living room. The papers wrong or maybe his shoes discarded almost looking tripped over? Desperate. The apartment felt desolate, cold. Stepping in her breath catches in a gasp, “Aaron!” Sinking to her knees beside the tub, she pulls him up. Moving his face from where he’s so dangerously allowed it to sink into the warmth of the water. Clutched in his hand, submerged beneath the water, a single bottle of Advil.

He’d bought it only two weeks ago. She’d been there, right beside him. Budgeting has been hard and she could see the apprehension in his face when they’d stopped near the aisle. She had mistaken it for fear that they didn’t have the money to waste on something like Advil and now she can’t help but wonder if he’d wondered something else. Would Advil be painless? How fast would it be? But she’d taken his hand and squeezed it, reassuring him a bottle of Advil would be okay. He was getting headaches, bad ones. She assumed he was just too worried to admit he needed them. She hadn’t thought he was suicidal but when has she ever been able to hear the thoughts racing through his mind?

“Aaron,” she runs her knuckles across his sternum. No. No, she hadn’t thought he was suicidal but had she ever really thought he was okay? Don’t be stupid, she’d think, as she sat in the library late at night. Reading books, consuming every bit of knowledge she could obtain without ever admitting to herself that maybe, just maybe the man she’s loved since she was fifteen might be suicidal. Not Aaron who lights up rooms and loves picnics and, on more than one occasion, has woken up to climb onto the roof and watch the sunrise. But maybe he’s not in love with life enough to want to stay here. “Aaron,” she calls, her clothes as soaked as his. “Wake up, baby.”

At the hospital, they give him so much medicine that she can’t even think straight. The whites of his eyes all she can see as a nurse guides Haley through what they’re doing. “It’s a seizure,” the nurse says, unwavering as she watches Aaron’s body jerk and shake. Everyone works around him but no one touches him. Simply moves things away from where he might hit them. “Tell me about him.” She puts herself between Haley and Aaron, averting Haley’s gaze so she doesn’t have to watch the staff move him. Hurt him.

Haley struggles to come up with a thing. “When we were seventeen he--he stopped eating,” Haley manages. Maybe, that will help? “He was hospitalized. He almost died.” Suddenly, all Haley wants is Jessica. Her sister to pull them out of this mess like she always does. Protecting them.

The nurse shakes her head. “No,” she clarifies. “No, tell me about him.”

About Aaron. “He loves blueberry pancakes,” she chokes, an inappropriate laugh forcing its way up. “Really loves them.” She smiles and the nurse nods, smiling too. It’s easier to think of him like this. The boy who used to climb up a tree outside her dorm to wave at her from her window. “He will make himself sick eating them.” His childhood had been so bleak, so bland. He’d known only oatmeal as a breakfast food. The first time her mother made them, he’d eaten so many he had been sick and she’d sat right by his side rubbing his back. “Still,” she adds with a shake of her head. “To this day, twenty years old and he still makes himself sick eating blueberry pancakes. Like--” she starts to cry. “Like he’s afraid you’ll take them away.”

Standing in that emergency room, Haley wonders how much of what she knows about Aaron is true.

“Has he tried to do this before?”

He wants to be a lawyer. A better man than his father putting away the bad guys and fixing the system. He’ll never graduate. No one wants a suicidal lawyer. She’s torn between morals. He’s spent the last few years fighting for this and this one silly mistake could unravel it all. Just a silly mistake. “No,” she chokes. “No, he’s not-- he’s not suicidal. He gets migraines.” She looks up from the tiled floor. “He had a migraine. That’s all. He forgot how many he took and I wasn’t there. I should have been there. He was just confused. I told him to take a bath. Really, he was just confused. That’s all.” Haley had never been good at lying.

They leave her, after that, perhaps having realized they won’t get anything from her. The truth will not come from her, not today. She ignores the tired look they give her when she asks for a note to give Aaron’s professors. So that she can get his work or maybe just make sure he’s not being too penalized. And again, as the doctor signs, he asks if Aaron’s ever done anything like this. “This--this accident.” And she knows exactly what he’s doing. Trying to guide her to the right answer. Her answer is solid. No. Never. And she leaves him to go sit with Aaron.

The nurses come in and out. Looking but never saying. They move over his body and he lets them so long as she is there. Within reach and she always is. She finds magazines and books and spends too much of her time convincing herself that if he’d meant it, she would have noticed. That everyone else is wrong. If the signs are there then it’s not that hard to notice! Fuck this cognitivie dissonance. She’s smart. She would see.

Right?

He’s just smoking more because he’s stressed out.

Normal college students struggle to balance a sleep schedule.

Aaron is always withdrawn.

He’s moody because he’s not sleeping.

These signs aren’t meant for him. They mean nothing. And she repeats it again and again until she starts to believe it. The signs don’t mean anything.

Now, she stands with her back to Aaron. Her arms crossed on her chest, finding the courage to dare them to question her. What lie will she conjure for the fresh cuts on his arm? Not even healed. Probably done last night in the bathroom with the kit he taped to the bottom of the sink. With the razors she pretends not to see wrapped in toilet paper. But she’s afraid to say something. They’ve been together for half a decade and he’s only just now started sleeping without a shirt. Only just allowed her to see his body. The cuts and the scars both from his own hand and his father’s.

But they don’t say anything. Perhaps it’s too taboo but no one says anything.

The signs mean nothing. He smokes because he always has. He’s withdrawn because he always has been. Aaron is and always has been these signs. So, he’s fine.

He’s fine.

They get married at the end of the next semester. He’s had months to recover but the body isn’t so quick to forgive. His voice is rough from where they had to intubate him for so long but the therapist all assure them that with time his voice will lose its rasp and he’ll sound like himself again. His classmates poke at him for his “time-off” and he’d prefer they think him a spoiled brat off partying than what he really is. A disaster. One misstep away from trying again.

He never voices this. He doesn’t tell the therapists or Haley.

“I want to apply to the academy.”

Marriage is not even marginally the hardest thing he’s been forced to understand. He knows what he’s doing when he makes Haley his sole beneficiary-- asides from his textbooks which he wants to go to Jessica because she’s still bitter he “wasted” himself with the bitterness of law. But marriage is easy. Giving himself is second nature. He never thinks about the little things she clings to. How he always remembers to put the seat down and cooks dinner or washes the dishes. He’s not normal.

But this sudden change of pace takes her by surprise. “The-- The academy?” At first, she thinks of films and actors and actresses. That sort of academy but bitterly, sickly she remembers how close they are to Quantico. About David Rossi & Jason Gideon, who he met two weeks ago and hasn’t stopped talking about since. There’s a flush to his face, excitement she hasn’t seen in the longest time. And she wants to say yes but she can’t be certain this isn’t some new method he’s found to hurt himself.

He nods, shoveling corn and green beans into his mouth. Happy, she realizes. He’s happy.

“It’ll be in the fall so I’d have a few more months left with the District Attorney.”

No. She wants to say no so badly. The last thing they need is a gun. As if she doesn’t already check the knives over, counting and recounting the razors he uses to shave. Convinced he’ll try again. But she can’t say no because she doesn’t have a good reason. They’re financially stable. She’s working at a school only down the street and joining the academy won’t be taxing. It’ll be a bit of a money cut but he’s not making bank with the DA anyhow. He’s too smart to fail the courses but, as twisted as she knows it is, she thinks he’ll get hung up. He’ll need a physical and have to pass psych evaluations. There’s no way they let him through.

“Okay,” she decides, returning back to dinner. It kills her to see him smirk and celebrate while she sits certain that they won’t allow him in. There she plans what she will do to protect him of the recoil. Of what will, undoubtedly, occur. A safety net that he can fall into.

But the call comes and the cake she’d been making-- vanilla with rainbow sprinkles and blueberry pancakes cooling by it’s side-- to console him turns into a celebratory one. He’s done it. Training and evals, passed. Made records won awards. She’s got herself one hell of a federal agent.

Jessica comes down, smiling and with a bag in hand. She hates this development nearly as much as Haley but is much better at hiding it. “Look at you,” Jessica mumbles in amazement. She turns him over, fingers finding his hardened muscles through the sleeves of his sweater. Looking for something, anything to clue her in one what’s happening behind his dark eyes but all she sees is happiness and she can’t help but wonder how long that will last. “You were nothing but a scrawny kid and they’ve turned you into a man and a half.”

There it is, that half-strangled puff of laughter. He smiles, dimples, and chin, and whole face. A man, she is reminded, not that fifteen-year-old prone to drinking in the woods and getting knocked down in the halls. He quit smoking that month and Haley did too. For once, he started taking care of himself. Not as if he never had before but suddenly there were just things he did that he had never before.

He stopped cutting. Which had been harder than losing the cigarettes. She only noticed in passing and could never really pride him on the achievement. Never draw attention to it. But she’d see the scabs healing when he wrapped an arm around her bare hips. Eventually, there were no scabs. Only scars.

“I love you,” she reminds him because she’s not sure if this will last.

And his eyes always twinkle just a little when she says it. Pleasantly surprised each time. “I love you too.”

He gets posted in Seattle and as they’re preparing for the move she watches him closely. As it turns out, she’s the one afraid not him. The world seems to open up, right then, for him and selfishly she thinks about everything she’s just left behind. No, she realizes. It’s not selfish. She worries about him, he worries about her. She’s worried about herself and he worries about himself. It’s a balance and no good things come without a little give.

Seattles is okay.

She tutors a young boy with epilepsy that has fallen behind do to a spout of recent hospitalization. He reminds her so feverishly of Aaron that she naturally takes to him. His name is Sam and his hair is blonde and his eyes the same soft brown as Aaron’s. He’s smart and funny one day and sad and silent the next. The last decade she’s spent living at Aaron’s side has made her ambidextrous to this behaviour and she doesn’t blink.

Aaron spends his days folded into case files, not all that different from when they were in Virginia but he’s lighter. They both are. He doesn’t seem even bothered by the rain. Smiling each time he comes in soaked to the bone to chase her around, shaking the rain from his hair onto her.

One night, she rolls over and attaches herself to his back. She’s antsy and he’s an insomniac so she’s not too surprised when he tangles his fingers with hers over his stomach and hums to answer the question she hasn’t asked yet. Breath ghosting over the back of his neck, she asks, “Do you still want to have kids?”

He chuckles, turning slightly so she can see the silhouette of his nose and lips as he answers her. “Mmm, ten.” Slowly, moving her legs and twisting, he faces her. So that his forehead is against hers and kisses her. “Wanna make one?” he asks teasingly, fingers skimming the skin peaking out from under her shirt. “I hear it’s pretty easy.”

She hits him but deepens the kiss, allowing her hand to slide over his hips and squeeze his butt. It makes her laugh and he just shakes his head. “I want to talk about kids,” she reminds him, breathlessly as his hand snakes up underneath her shirt to cup her bare breast. “Not ten,” she whispers, pulling his head closer as he kisses her neck. “One or two. At least one boy.” He hums and she doesn’t even need to consider if he’s listening or not because he always is. “We could adopt.”

He smiles, placing a hand on both sides of her head, completely overtop her now. She whines a little as he sits up, extracting his body from the tangle of hers. “We could foster even more,” he offers, because he’s thought about it. “Have a few, adopt a few, and be one of those sweet old couples that fosters every kid they can find.”

She squints her eyes at him reaching up and bopping his nose. “You have a savior complex,” she whispers. Which they both know isn’t true. He’s a helper, a watcher. What else would you have him do? He’s never been one to sit by. But she thinks about it. Long after that night and later that night. When she rolled over and he’d fallen asleep in a massive tangle like he always does. This man doesn’t know how to exist without creating a mess. His desk is never neat and he can’t sleep without one half of his body stuck in the sheets.

She considers having a child exactly like him. With his exact brown eyes and those dimples. Adopting one that slowly becomes a part of them. Learning there little habits. A child with hair to dark to be Aarons but too light to be hers that like dancing around the kitchen with her and has that soft, strong way of speaking that Aaron does. Kids. With him.

They aren’t compatible.

She knows she shouldn’t have pushed when the scabs come back. It’s not bad, well… The cuts are small and low in number but she knows they’re there long before she sees them. He starts to sleep in long sleeves again. She sees them when he’s in the shower. Three or four on each arm and he’s been wearing the shirts for a month so it’s not that bad. He’s certain done worse. He’s just got a lot of pressure on him at the moment.

She lets it go.

“I haven’t had my period in a while,” she says over dinner. She told herself to wait for those cuts to heal but they never do.

He chokes on his food. He hasn’t been eating a lot and she thinks he might be smoking again. Which she would point out but she might just be paranoid. Sam got sick last week, had a seizure that she had seen, and she’s a little ashamed to admit she picked it back up to soothe herself. Unsure and unable to tell Aaron about it. How could she? It had nearly scared her from the topic of children, what would it do to him.

“How--” his voice cuts off. He doesn’t mean “how”. He knows exactly how. They talked about children and have been careless. Two scared people hoping that if they pretend to not want this with every burning fiber of their beings they might get it. He can’t remember the last time he used a condom and her birthcontrol has suddenly disappeared from the bathroom sink.

“How long?”

She puts her fork down. “Three months.” They’ve been trying twice that long. “I have a test,” she tells him, trying to hide her excitement. His eyes meet hers and she reads him like her favorite book. “I could take it.” Their lonely kitchen is filled with the sound of scraping chair the two of them fumbling to move.

“Oh.”

It’s negative.

Aaron’s mouth is dry, he doesn’t know why he’s so disappointed.

“We can keep trying,” she soothes, trying not to shake or cry. Even though she wants to throw that stupid test against the wall. Tears fall down her cheek and she looks up to see his own gather.

He shakes his head.

Jessica comes down the next week and pretends not to notice the return of the long sleeves. Aaron greets her with a smile and kisses her cheek. Telling her about everything but that test. The hope so swiftly taken from them. She takes Haley to a clinic. They count her eggs and smile, assuring her that she’s young, healthy, and her eggs are in fantastic shape. She should consider herself lucky, it should be easy for her to have children.

Easy.

Clearly, they have never met her husband.

His sperm count is low. Enough that the doctor’s face falls a little as he explains their options. It’s still possible to do this on their own but they shouldn’t be ashamed if things need a little help.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

But he is ashamed and he counts out each offense on his skin.

Sam, the boy she tutored, dies shortly after they learn all of this. His little body just couldn’t take all the stress.

Haley feels selfish but she’s glad she was no where near him when it happened.

A week later, Aaron comes home, hangs his coat on the rack and sits down on the edge of the couch. “I saw David Rossi today.” His eyes are haunted by the dark circles under them. She notices them but the people in his office never seem to. They comment his quick work and sharp mind which is why Dave had been so quick to accept him. Aaron’s curiosity has always been the brightest burning part of him. “He wants me to move back to Virginia. Take some profiling courses. Join his team.”

Aaron has read everything about the Behavioral Science Unit he can get his hands on. So, by extension, she also knows a lot about them. Every time he finds something worth excitement he finds her to recount each detail. He wants this, she knows.

She’s making muffins, trying to keep her mind off of Sam. When he tells her this, what David Rossi wants from her husband she’s furious. Fuck that man. What do they care about him? They have a life here. But… they really don’t. The lease on their apartment is ending and she keeps trying to decide if she really wants to renew it. Sam is dead. Aaron has a job opportunity.

“Do you want to move back to Virginia?” she turns, to him. Pressing her hips across the oven and watching him.

He looks down at the floor. Does he? He hadn’t really considered that. Does he want to work with David Rossi? Yes, very much so. So, he nods. “I want this,” he says.

She brushes the wet dough on her hands off on the apron on her chest and moves across the kitchen to him. Placing a hand on both sides of his face, she kisses him. “Okay,” she whispers. “Then lets go.”

David immediately loves him.

I work too slowly.

I get too attached.

I’m only good with victims.

I am not a good profiler.

But David sees that spark. The yearning for more, fire hissing and popping and Dave is eager to throw gasoline on him. To see him rise and consume them all. “You’re a bright kid,” Dave commends, one afternoon. They’re having dinner on the way home. Dave has no girlfriend or wife to call so he’s very content to get a little tipsy and let Aaron drive him home. Aaron is wondering what Haley’s doing, Dave thinks this is adorable.

“Um,” Aaron can feel a deflection on his tongue but Dave covers his hand with his own.

With far too much seriousness for a tipsy man he says, “alright. You’re next lesson is acceptance, alright? I give you a compliment and you say--” Aaron just stares back at him. “You say thank you, Dave.”

He nods his head.

Dave blinks. This goddamn kid, he swears. But he’s so enchanting, charming in his youth. Bashful but always looking, watching. Dave wants nothing more than to see him smile even more. To see him grow steady and assured in his abilities. And that it almost taken from him. A sniper in some case that feels more like a movie, something that happens to someone you’re only lightly attached to. That you gasp at but forget about in a day or two. The blood that just sprays, thick and heavy and hot. Dave’s never lost an agent.

He’s lost men but that was war. This isn’t war. It’s just profiling. His people aren’t supposed to die and the kid-- fucking Aaron, his Aaron, almost died.

“You must be David.”

Dave is sleeping in the room when she comes. A thin little thing with straw blonde hair and a very scorned looking face. Aaron has gone on and on about her. She’s beautiful and he can see, immediately, why Aaron’s so drawn to her. As stupid as it is, he smiles when he sees her. So tiny and yet drawn up like she’s ready for a fight.

“That must make you Haley.”

She hums, a habit he finds cute. Humming fits Aaron well. He’s a silent man but not Haley. Aaron had told him they had been together since they were kids, high school sweet hearts. It must be a bit of Aaron’s spite she has drawn up as she walks through the room to stand at her husband’s side. Stoic.

The worst is yet to come.

The shot had been surprisingly clean. Aaron would need a sling and to keep his arm delicately strapped to his chest to allow his shattered clavicle to repair. He wakes two hours later, to the soft hum of Haley and Dave whispering over him. He’s not coherent and he’s in pain and falls right back to sleep the moment Haley takes his hand. A softly sighed “oh” on his lips as his eyes shut and he’s gone again.

Dave doesn’t say anything about the scars. He knows about them. (Do you really think they’d let anybody into the FBI without making notes in files, annotations for men like David Rossi to read and re-read a dozen times as they consider allowing men like Aaron Hotchner onto their teams?)

“Haley?” The second time he’s distraught. Panicking. He remembers the warmth of his bath, the Advil bottle in his palm. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, just as he had when he woke the first time, all those years ago. “I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.” He remembers thinking how uncomfortable he was in the tub. How he wished he had a pillow or was shorter so at least his knees could sink in. That he could see his clothes plastered to his skin.

He mistakes her momentary confusion as disbelief and he grows agitated. Gasping in pain but twisting and pleading. “I-- I--,” his sentence is cut off by his strangled cry. He moves his hips the wrong way and his shoulder is pressed down into the mattress.

It breaks her heart just as much this time as it had last time. To see his face pinched in pain and confusion. But she is shocked in place.

Dave stands, grabbing Aaron’s unrestrained hand. His hand wrapping completely around until his finger rest against the inside of Aaron’s wrist. His hand engulfing Aaron’s. The scars moving under his touch. “You’re okay,” Dave assures him softly. He smiles, priding Aaron when he manages to whisper Dave’s name in soft shock. He pats Aaron’s cheek, “there he is. My bright boy. How are you? You okay?”

His sense come back to him. The memories slipping into place. “Hurts,” he rasps. Gradually, his body calms and he stops kicking out against nothing. “My arm hurts,” he whispers, his eyes full of tears as he looks between them. Trusting one of them will stop it. One of them will help.

Haley leans down and presses a kiss to his temple, brushing her fingers through his hair. “You’re okay sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. He hums, turning into her touch. She never calls him sweetheart.

She wipes his tears away and Dave says nothing. At that moment, she doesn’t know him to well but eventually, she’ll learn that his silence in that moment was new. Dave never shuts up. She’ll crave that silence in his company. But he’d been thinking, watching and she’d been preoccupied. He was taking in what he was seeing to stored for a later date. Though he had thought for theory not practice. How wrong he, in fact, was.

He retires a year later. Aaron and Haley are just getting the courage to try again for a kid.

When he returns he’s thoroughly surprised to find things haven’t entirely changed. The bits that have changed are encouraging.

“How much do you know?” Morgan asks him one night, a little too tipsy to be having this conversation. But he’s been sitting on it for months and he’s got to know. It’s his job to protect the team and while he and Aaron always seem to butt heads, he won’t leave him out of that equation. “About… About Hotch.”

Not Aaron, anymore. He’s a whole new person. The Unit Chief, strong stoic and up until that moment Dave had even thought hidden. His little secret tucked beneath those multi-layered suits. Evidently not if Morgan knows. “Should we be discussing this?” he asks. It’s an answer within itself. If he knows they shouldn’t be discussing it then he knows about it.

Morgan understand this. He pops a handful of nuts in his mouth, chewing them thoughtfully. “He’s important to us,” Morgan says after a long while.

Dave nods. “He’s important to me too.”

Neither fully explains where they stand. How much any given member of the team knows.

Spencer Reid isn’t stupid and even if he were, he’s not oblivious. He’s never seen the scars on the inside of his superior’s wrist. Never seen any of the scars for that matter. There’s still something about Hotch, nameless and without a good proper name, that Spencer cues in on. Self-destructive with control issues. They never talk about it. It’s safer that way.

It hurts Penelope to think about for too long. She’s seen the scars but she’d known what to look for and she’d looked. Even though she knew what she would find and knew it would hurt. Though she was never made to be the silent observing type, she doesn’t mention them. But sometimes she places little goodies in his go bag so that when he finds them he’s forced to be reminded that he’s loved.

JJ knows the signs now. She was too slow the first time. Now she wears that burden around her neck each day. There’s something so raw about Aaron Hotchner but she doesn’t think he’s suicidal, not anymore at least. Maybe in another life, at a different time. Today, tomorrow, yesterday… he’s okay. But she’ll keep vigil. She watches.

Though Emily hates his guts when she first arrived, she’s found herself close to his side over the course of the last few months. Enough to know more about him than the others. Maybe not because he tells her but because she’s simply there and it’s hard to hide things once you allow someone else that close.

The divorce doesn’t come by too big of a surprise.

Neither does Haley’s reaction.

“I need to ask you to do something for me,” Haley whispers.

JJ is rocking Henry when Will comes in with the phone and she’s honestly surprised it’s taken Haley this long to get around to her. “Haley,” she responds, wondering if Haley is out there someplace rocking Jack. “You know you don’t have to ask.” JJ and Haley had gotten along great when JJ first joined. JJ was the only girl on the team and Haley knows how Hotch can be.

“He doesn’t mean it, honest.” Haley had defended. Referencing Hotch’s more elusive if not silent nature.

JJ had brushed it off, “oh no. He’s a sweetheart.” And was and still is. He very well was probably the only person who didn’t give her a hard time.

“I know Aaron isn’t taking… all of this well.” That is an understatement. He’s not doing anything drastic but starving away in his office running on caffeine and random sandwiches one of them forces him to eat isn’t thriving. “Can you just look after him? I would-- you know I would but we can’t do this--this balance if I am always there to catch him. That doesn’t change anything.”

JJ closes her eyes, leaning her face down to Henry. Allowing the soft scent of baby and lotion to soothe the anger and pain she feels swelling up. “You know I will,” she promises. “He’ll be okay, Haley. We’ll get him through this.” The call ends shortly after that. Haley asks about Henry and JJ about Jack. And the two part. It’s better that way.

The divorce is the easy part.

Foyet attacks and nine new scars find their way on his body and suddenly they all know that those aren’t the ones they need to worry about.

“Emily, Em--Emily.” She’s sleeping in his guest room, curled under the warm sheets. A cat, he thinks dizzily, as she stretches and hums sleepy at him. Arching her back and stretching her back and arms out like he’s seen plenty of street cats do. The kind that aren’t bothered when you come marching through their alley.

She winces at the light but finds him. The apprehension on his pained face and the dark, wet rag he’s holding with his left hand over his right.

“I-- There was-- It was an accident,” he stumbles.

The wet rag she realizes is soaked in his blood. Crimson. She wakes quickly, suddenly cold. Throwing the blankets off her legs. He just stands in the doorway, leaning heavily to the side. “What did you do?” she demands, afraid to look and see. Afraid to see. She covers his hand with hers, pressing against the wound. Her mind turns this over slowly. His blood dropping in fat drops by their feet. “You have to go to the hospital.”

His eyes flash with something but she knows it’s not remorse for what he’s done. “It was on accident,” he rasps. “I’m sorry.”

She knows. “To the hospital,” she instructs, guiding him through the dark hall. He’s dazed, clearly confused. It takes her a moment to wrap his coat around his shoulder. “Hold it,” she mumbles, wrapping his fingers back around his wrist. Then she’s shoving her own feet into shoes not thinking twice about the fact that they’re both in pajamas and she in shorts. “Aaron,” she stands back up and he’s loosened his hold. The way she says his name shocks him. “Put fucking pressure on it.”

She steers him to the car, guiding him by his hips. By the time she moves to the driver’s seat he’s pressed his head to the door’s cold window, turned a nasty grey color. “Aaron,” she shakes him roughly. Paying no mind to the wounds on his chest that haven’t healed. “Stay awake.” She’s not going to loose him like this. She hits him several more times, it’s one jarring him back to life. She knows she’s hit a few bruises and not healed places on his body but he’s slipping and he’s not going to die in her passenger seat.

“You’re a goddamn idiot.” she seethes. They’re outside the emergency room. She’s pulling his thin grasshopper like legs out of the car, grunting when the rest of him comes with them. His head finds her shoulder and she stops, holding him there for just a second as they both collect themselves. “Are you okay?” she asks softly. The first truly kind thing she’s had to say all night. He nods. “Okay,” she pats his back. “Come on, jackass, we’ve got plenty more fighting to do.”

They won’t let her back with him which she almost hopes causes a scene. But Hotch goes listlessly into the wheelchair and silently allows them to take him away. He doesn’t fight. Which is worse than if he’d begged them to let her come. But he goes, his bloody rag in his lap. Head tilted resting against his chest.

She calls Morgan first. He tells her not to call anyone else. It’s two in the morning and they need the sleep. He’ll be there in twenty minutes. He’s there in ten and when he sees her sitting there he doesn’t say a word, just wraps his coat around her bare arms. They sit, shoulder-to-shoulder, neither saying anything for a long time.

Eventually, he can’t stand the silence. “Did he do it on purpose?” Morgan asks.

She shrugs. She doesn’t know. “He said he was sorry.” The raspy quality of her own voice surprises her. Looking down at her hands, she scratches at her nails. Frowning at the blood she pulls up. They all do things they shouldn’t. He just… It wasn’t on purpose. It wouldn’t… He wouldn’t…

“Emily Prentiss?”

She looks up, surprised to find a nurse standing there. How long have they been sitting here? Not saying a thing. Just thinking. Assuming the worst. “Yes?” She stands, suddenly too aware of how silly she must look. Her night shirt covered in blood and in shorts that show all of her legs and-- only after looking down-- does she realize she’s wearing a pair of Hotch’s shoes.

“Mr. Hotchner is very dehydrated. We’re going to keep him here for the night. You can come back, if you’d like. He asked for you.”

She glances back at Morgan and then at the nurse. “I want to but,” she motions to Morgan, “can we both go?” She can see the hesitation wash over the nurse. “You can ask Hotch-- Agent Hotchner. His name is Derek, Hotch won’t mind.”

The nurse caves with a nod and motions for them to follow her.

He’s in a section marked off by curtain. Asleep with his heavily bandaged hand curled on his chest and the other by his side. They’ve bandaged both, the left with a few bandages versus the heavy gauze of the right. He sleeps but it’s not deep no more than the shallow naps he’s been getting lately.

Emily moves to his left side and waits for the nightmare she know will grip him.

“He didn’t… He wasn’t trying to, was he?”

Emily rubs her thumb his knuckles. “Morgan?” If he was, would he have come to get her? Would he have covered the wound himself, first? Trying to stop the blood on his own? Morgan looks up. “You can’t talk about it. Promise me, you won’t ask him about it.” That would kill him.

Morgan stands in the corner, arms crossed on his chest. “Will you talk to him about it?”

She doesn’t want to. “Yes.” But someone has to.

“If he does it again--”

Emily cuts him off with a scowl. “He won’t.”

Morgan breaks a little, sadden by how vehemently she believes this. “Okay,” he caves. “Okay.”

He does.

#tw mental health #tw food #tw self destructive behavior #tw hospital #tw suicide #tw suicide attempt #tw cutting #tw abuse #jessica brooks #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #haley hotchner #david rossi #spencer reid #derek morgan #jennifer jareua #penelope garcia #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years ago

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Fifth Floor Ghost

The hospital is a brick building only five stories tall, known only as Cassell College Health and Wellness Clinic. Even though it was a small facility, it could have been ranked among the top hospitals in the world for its access to expertise. Some of the most prestigious doctors were Cassell alum and with a single phone call, they could be summoned in an emergency.

Each of the five floors was dedicated to a certain practice. The bottom floor was the emergency and ICU department and pharmacy and general medicine. The second floor was rehabilitation, physical therapy and sports medicine. The third floor was an area for surgeries. The fourth floor was the lab. The fifth floor and the basement were for the more exclusive patients.

There is a rumor that the basement and the Fifth floor of Cassell College clinic were actually haunted. It’s said that at night, if you stare at the upper floor of the clinic, you’ll see the shadow of a person staring out at you from the windows. If you come close, you can hear doors opening and shutting. Or you can hear the sounds of voices floating to your ears from inside.

Some of the professors encourage such rumors, saying that wandering in will provoke the spirits there and that no one should even attempt to enter these forbidden zones for fear of being cursed. Others laugh it off and say that these floors are storage or empty and there is no such thing as ghosts.

Only a few of the oldest members of the college can remember the real dirty history of these floors. Before there were reliable ways to determine the stability of the bloodline, this is where unstable students were taken to be euthanized. The walls were reinforced with concrete and steel. The windows were rigged with traps and explosive devices to keep from being opened.

If the students were members of Hydra or the former Devil Clan, they would immediately recognize this sort of building. It was the same sort of building that was built in the remote mountains of Japan -- The Black prison that held the White King Hybrid Ghosts. The sort of facility that Lu Mingfei found so familiar and had housed Erii Uesugi when she was alive, had originated in Cassell College. They would understand that the people held on those floors were something far worse than any vengeful spirit, and wouldn’t wish to speak of it ever again.

Early every morning, someone stirred at the top floor of this building. Tigre didn’t understand himself to have migrated from one cage in Mexico to another cage at the top of Cassell College clinic. To him, this was heaven to see the light of the sun rise through the small dingy window and hear the song of the birds chirping outside to greet it.

His room is white all around to reflect the light, as though he were in a sea of clouds. He stretched and turned into it, letting the sun warm his face. His calm innocent smile was offset by the horrific scarring on his bare arms, chest and back. It was no wonder he was called, “Tigre” or ‘tiger’. Not only was he strong and deadly, the dark scars resembled stripes.

One had to wonder how someone like him survived to his age. It was frightening to think how he could sustain this many wounds and still be alive and walking.

He reaches over and presses play on a small cellphone. On the phone is the voice of Masashi Toyama. “Tigre, today be sure to shower, brush your teeth for two minutes after you shower and comb your hair well, fold your clothes into the drawer neatly like I showed you…”

These are simple life habits, but habits that Tigre had never had a chance to cultivate. Something as simple as showering and brushing teeth was something he would forget to do or only do half way before he got distracted by something simple, like flushing the toilet or trying to figure out how the light switch actually worked.

He was strong enough and had enough time to take apart everything in his room. It wasn’t unusual for the nursing staff to come and find that he had partially dismantled the furniture or undone the door. How he figured out how to remove the exhaust fan in the bathroom was another mystery. Eventually the maintenance crew went and bolted down everything they could to keep him from pulling it apart again.

He was a strange patient. He was calm and compliant as a child, but his curiosity and strength tore everything around him apart and those around him had to acknowledge that he was not a child but a grown man. Like a child, he didn’t understand that the sudden ratcheting down of everything in the room meant that he wasn’t supposed to touch those things again. He took it as a puzzle. As though he had won the game and now entered ‘Challenge mode.’ He did understand however, when he broke the door completely that maybe he had done something wrong.

It was almost time for Toyama to arrive for his lesson. He listened for his steps in the hall, standing in the middle of the room, still. When he was right at the door, he waited until the door was about to open and then leaped up from a standing start and braced his arms against the corner of the wall just inside the door. He can only maintain this position a short time, his arms and feet pushed against the texture. Toyama walked in and didn’t see him. He looked left and right. His eyes widened in a panic and called out. “Tigre? Tigre!” He hurried forward towards the bathroom to look inside. Tigre leaped from the wall and pushed him into the bathroom and shut the door!

“Tigre! Tigre! No! Bad!” Toyama scolded him.

He opened the door to an empty room again. There were only a few places Tigre could hide. Under the bed was one, but more often, Tigre would just hide in Toyama’s blind spots. He turned to his right and Tigre was standing there. He was so close, Toyama was surprised he didn’t smell him. Toyama staggered backwards with a yelp.

“Tigre! No!” Tigre said, imitating his voice and speaking at the same time as him.

Toyama adjusted his glasses. Normally, such behavior was intolerable from any patient. But Toyama was an expert in Hybrid psychology and high ranking Hybrids were all little maniacs, whether they admitted it or not. If Tigre didn’t torment him a little, he would be more concerned than not. In all frankness, given his 24 hour confinement, these little pranks spoke to his mental stability.

Toyama sighed as he looked at his patient’s sturdy muscular frame in his simple shirt and slacks and bare feet. Those golden eyes shined above his dark glasses with a certain animal intensity, the pupils wide as marbles. He was in a playful mood, but anyone looking at him right now would be absolutely terrified at the eyes of this monster.

Elsewhere in the college, students were waking up to hurry to classes and study for midterms. He was dealing with students who were stressing over dissertations and exams most of the day, so these little moments of wild madness were more welcome than before. He tried to imagine Tigre behind a desk, quietly reading or behind a keyboard typing a report and the thought was so ridiculous that he couldn’t do it.

However, weeks ago, his report to Schneider said that Tigre was starting to pace, and rub his sides against his cage. He was reaching the point where he would start to earnestly try to escape and they needed to release his pent up energy in a meaningful controlled way before they lost all control of the situation.

He expected a rejection. After all, Tigre’s blood was far over the acceptable limit to the point that he should have been considered for euthanasia. To Toyama, this was a pointless and cruel exercise, keeping him confined here, but letting him outside was madness.

He didn’t expect Schneider to respond back with a letter approving nightly outings with Tigre supervised by the Executive Board. The letter expressed that Tigre’s progress has been pleasing so far and they look forward to his continued improvement.

Toyama was speechless at this message. Schneider understood more than anyone the terrible power of unstable hybrids and that they were in a war against dragons. Dragons were the enemies of humans, like the wolf was a natural enemy to the deer. It wasn’t something that could be changed by treaties or by talks.

Some might point to some small examples, such as a lioness that had adopted a baby antelope as its cub. Even though this lioness protected the poor calf as best as it could, one day, the lioness turned her back at the wrong time, and a male lion devoured her pet. Even though the lioness might have felt some negative emotions, there was nothing she could do and in the end, she forgot about her little ‘pet baby antelope’ and didn’t mourn for it.

This was the opposite. They were adopting a lion into a herd of antelope. This young man was more dragon than he was human. Tigre was fond of Toyama now, but when his true nature took over, would he feel any remorse in killing anyone?

Schneider wasn’t a complete fool and promised him that precautions would be put in place for the outings. On the first night he went out, the area was cleared of all human presence, snipers were placed on roofs and a Predator drone hummed threateningly in the air. Tigre was none the wiser as he explored the college, his face wreathed in a smile. He looked up and leaped into the tree to pluck off a leaf and admire it in the dark.

In that unnatural quiet, Toyama walked with him alone. They passed by the statuesque architecture, worn by a hundred years of weather, looking at the stars between the branches of the trees, faint from the city lights, the moon seeming to hang low between the buildings. If one wasn’t aware of the situation, they could be excused for thinking that Toyama was walking with a close relative, like a son.

But after some time, the differences between them became more apparent, Tigre would get distracted by a sound, and his muscles and senses would key up, and he would stop, on high alert. Toyama would allow him to follow the sound, occasionally taking them both into drainage ditches and patches of landscaping, until he found what he was looking for -- a stray cat, opossum or raccoon. Soon, Toyama was getting well acquainted with Cassell College’s wildlife.

Tigre wouldn’t harass them though, he would just sit and watch their behavior, which was always growling and snarling. Tigre didn’t understand that his aura was the intimidating aura of a predator that had cornered its prey.

It was this aura that Toyama aimed to tame. He couldn’t remove that nature from him. He could only redirect it to innocent pursuits. Rather than hunting animals around the college, he took to ‘studying’ them. Rather than cornering them, he shadowed them and made observations. Then he finally taught him to make reports and turn them in to him as homework. These reports he also turned into Schneider for his analysis.

Schneider would send them back with notes, asking questions which he would return to Tigre for a response. In this way, Schneider and Tigre got acquainted with each other.

Finally, after several days, Schneider met with Principal Anjou and Vice Principal Franco at a trendy night club. Toyama wasn’t sure what was said, but the next morning it was announced that Tigre was going to be inducted as an official student at Cassell College and Toyama should preside over his 3E exam. Toyama had hoped that Tigre would be matriculated privately and quietly but in this case, it was decided that he would be enrolled normally, as though he were no different.

Toyama felt that he could argue with Schneider, but he couldn’t argue with him and the two Principals. His continued training would have to happen outside his jurisdiction.

“Tigre…” Toyama looked at him with kind and sad eyes. “Today you have a very special test. This test will take you to be one of Cassell’s official students.”

“Really?” Tigre’s eyes widened.

“I will tell you a bit about it, so that you are not surprised. You will hear music and then you will hear a voice in the speakers. This voice will speak to your heart in a way no other voice has spoken to you before. There will be a series of questions and you will write down the answers to the best of your ability. Understand?”

Tigre nodded. “Yes.”

“No matter what. Please remember… you mustn’t hurt anyone. Even if you really want to. Understand?”

Tigre tilted his head. “I understand.”

“Okay…” Toyama considered for a few more seconds and pulled Tigre into an awkward hug. “You’ve done very well. Keep doing well.”

#Dragon Raja

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trvelyans-archive · 4 years ago

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i am on my hands and knees begging for u to tell me about lila and margot 🙏

jasmine.............. thank you for this gift

under the cut because i expect it’ll get very long <3 :) update after i finished writing: it is, in fact, very long and also took me over an hour. so. take that as whatever sort of warning you might want.

let’s start with margot !

she was born to a couple of really young parents who..... did not want to be parents. at all. they were still in the party-and-get-drunk phase of their life and didn’t want to have a kid to worry about, so a large part of her childhood was spent couch surfing between relatives, mostly her grandfather.

they were really close! he would help her with her homework, they would cook together, he would let her drink underage so that she was well-versed in beer by the time she was like. idk. 16 lol. but she felt closer to him than her own parents, who were good when they were around but. they mostly weren’t around <3

when she was 19, her grandpa starting showing pretty serious signs of memory loss and whatnot and eventually had to be moved into a home. she was living with him by that point, so she had to continue to spend a year or so of her adult life couchsurfing. it didn’t help that she was in school full-time to get an engineering degree of. some kind. i think mechanical engineering. idk. and didn’t have a job, so to pay back her roommates she took up a majority of the housework as well as picked up odd jobs on the weekend. her grandpa’s health continued to decline through this time so she didn’t actually mind being busy because then she. didn’t have to think about it at all <3

and then.............. when she was 20......... her boyfriend of a year suggested that she not only move in with him but that they get married and margot, who has never had stability ever in her life, jumped at the opportunity !

after she graduated, she found it incredibly hard to find a career (even though they were in the same program and He had no trouble finding one), so she was back to not working but her husband didn’t mind and he supported her whole-heartedly. during this time she started running and then eventually started going to a gym with a couple of her female friends from their neighbourhood! she would also spend a lot of time at her grandpa’s but his health was still rapidly declining. eventually her now-husband said that she should probably stop visiting him and margot was like “.... ok i guess”

And then. :)

she kept spending time outside of the house and started taking self-defense classes with a few of her friends and her husband was started to get very antsy. he wanted her to be at home, told her that he didn’t like her going out at night or, eventually, at all, and would find ways to keep her home every night so she didn’t go out. during this time he also started getting. um. very manipulative. he was easily triggered into starting arguments. so she increased the frequency of her self-defense classes and, eventually, they became Very Useful in an argument with her husband. so. we hate him :)

after that she filed for a divorce, moved away and changed her name to her late grandmother’s last name. she started working at a gym in her new town and eventually decided to open her own ! she had gotten the building about 2-3 weeks before the outbreak hit and didn’t have any furniture or equipment of any kind, so she met up with 2 middle-aged women from her old gym and they travelled together until one of them was bitten in a fight with walkers and dragged into a big crowd of them to be eaten and the other one was bitten and margot had to shoot her when she got zombified and tried to attack. :(

that’s where i have left off for now but i am going to develop her More the more i watch the show !!!

okay. backstory over. now for the fun bits:

her faceclaim is mackenzie davis specifically in terminator (without the. lines on her arms and whatever idk what those are) and this picture is the most margot-vibe imaginable.

the haircut was an incredibly recent choice but it came in handy during the outbreak because she didn’t have to worry about keeping hair out of her face. girlboss !

she is 6′2 :) her and her husband were funnily enough the 2 tallest people in her graduating class

she spoke occasionally to her parents after graduating and moving away but they fell out of touch a year or so before the outbreak began and she......................... unsurprisingly doesn’t miss them at all

she has 1 keepsake and it’s an old keychain of her grandpa’s and if anything happens to it. she will kill everyone in any room and Then herself !!!

she likes to where tank tops to show off her big arms. is this very ergonomical in the apocalypse where zombie bites can kill you instantly ? nope! will she do it anyway to intimidate people ? yup!

she Cannot cook. at all. she lived off of take-out and microwavable meals for the first 20 years of her life and then she always had someone else making food for her until she moved away on her own when it was back to takeout.

on the topic of food :) her fave foods are mac and cheese with breadcrumbs and meatlover’s pizza !

she will do literally anything for a good beer. anything. she keeps an eye out for them every time she goes scavenging in buildings and will try to get at least 1 bottle per trip. girlboss !

she cannot sing. in fact she’s not just average, she’s Terrible. she can, however, play mad guitar because her grandpa taught her.

now onto miss lila :)

she was born in a town a couple over from rick’s and was the younger sister of 2 ! she had a really great family and a very very happy childhood :) her dad was a wildlife rehabilitator and her mom was a landscaper who took a lot of pride in their nice big backyard and garden and Land where they. you know. rehabiliated the wildlife and what not

she worked a lot with her dad and mom at their wildlife centre and also helped her mom garden a lot (their house was on the same property as the centre so it was a nice big plot of land). she took a lot of interest in rehabilitating animals and it sparked a very early childhood interest in Caring for things (namely little wild critters) which extended to her helping out little kids on the playground when they got scraped knees and things. she always had a package of bandaids in her backpack from second grade on. an angel <3

in her final year of high school she had a very quick fling with a boy from her high school that ended… poorly. and then she got pregnant! which she. Did not expect. nor want. nor need in her life because she was planning on moving to atlanta to go to medical school and kickstart her career. her sister, who had recently dropped out of school and lost her job, decided to Take One for the team and claim the baby as hers so lila could go to medical school and stuff. their parents promised to take good care of her and they all made a plan to hide lila’s pregnancy from their town (although i’m sure literally everyone knows anyway) and then she moved away in the summer after giving birth to go to school

she quickly finished up her nursing program but was out of job for a few years until she got a job offer to be the nurse at king county elementary school aka the school were one Carl Grimes goes to school. she moved there in may and one night, when her car Squealed to a stop in front of a dog who had run away from his home and was being chased by. Um. a certain sheriff’s deputy who was intending on bringing the puppy back home <3 they got to talking and. Well. the rest is history…..

she was a very beloved member of the staff and kids would often fake sick just to come to her office and get a sucker and she grew esp close to the grimes family :D after a couple of years living in king county she got a job to start working at some fancy prep school in atlanta and decided that actually she might want to. You know. start being a mom now that she was finished with school and had a career. so she moved away from king county at the end of the next school year and was unfortunately in atlanta when it was bombed by the government at the start of the outbreak so she and her daughter and sister all died :) and that’s that !

some fun facts because that was a very depressing end to her story:

she always has suckers in her office at school and her favourites are the watermelon ones.

she can often be found gardening in her backyard or watching the birds in the trees like a little nature baby !!!

she is very meticulous about planning. she Does have a daily agenda. she Will kill you if you touch it. shane likes to leave her little notes in it for her to find when she’s at school. sometimes they are not Just cute. she usually erases those.

she likes collecting ugly thrift store paintings of animals and hangs them up in her dining room and she Does think they are incredibly funny.

she is a vegetarian !!! very unwavering about it. shane finds it annoying because he’s good at cooking steak but she just has a salad and then they’re both perfectly happy <3

sends basically everyone she knows a Christmas/holiday card every year. even the teachers at the elementary school who don’t like her and or barely talk to her !!!

she is a terrible maker of tea and usually forgets about cups before she’s even halfway through them (thank god for her). makes everyone tea when they come over except shane (stupid ass) because he doesn’t like it and usually people just politely swallow it even though it’s too steeped or. sorry idk how tea works. she just Makes It Bad ok

she perpetually forgets to do laundry. Most of her non-scrubs have dirt stains or dressing stains or whatnot (except for her Really nice clothes) which is why she tries to buy a lot of patterns. makes things easier to hide <3

and that’s it for now !!! i have so much other lore for them but i will stop here for now :) thank you very much if you read this also i’m very sorry i have twd brainworms i cannot help it. anyway ok that’s it thanks love you bye

#me writing nearly 2k of oc facts that is literally nothing more than comprehensible gibberish ? yes #also ig i'm just a villainfucker now sorry not sorry babes can't be helped when your villains are mr. jon bernthal :/#BUT ALSO we only stan pre-outbreak. after that he is dead to me so.#ANYWAY YEAH JESUS CHRIST these are probably shitty backstories and also just um lame ocs but <3 that's that #oc: margot #oc: lila #ask #thank u jasmine.... i love u

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dadzawa-adopt-dabi · 3 years ago

Text

Yandere hawks for Bear

This whole thing is dead dove as Fuck. Yandere Hawks and Rape occur in this fic. If you don't like it, Dont read it. enjoy!

@possessedfuzzybear

Dabi knows the moment Hawks lets him limp away that he’s going to get an infection. The alley is disgusting and the Hero hadn’t been gentle as he’d used Dabi , resulting in more than a few popped staples. He jerks away as the Hero presses a thumb into one of the seams, plucking another staple he loosened out of the skin.

“Fucking watch it.” He snarls at him and rips his arm out of the Hero’s grip. Dabi braces himself against the wall as his knees try to go out from under him. His pants are coated in muck from where Hawks had forced him to kneel.

“When’s our next meeting? You know I can’t go back to the commision empty handed.” The Hero drawls out with a bored expression as he examines one of the Villain’s staples in his hand. A small baby feather slips onto a loop on Dabi coat as he picks it up.

“When Shigaraki decides it.” The coat slides on providing him with another layer he can hide from Hawks prying eyes. TheHero has already seen the wreck of his body under the clothing and yet Dabi can still feel him undressing him with his eyes.

“I’ll swing by your new base sometime next week then? I’m sure we can find some way to pass the time... If there’s no news for me.” The Hero narrowed his eyes at Dabi, twirling a longer feather in his hands again. They both knew he wouldn’t harm Dabi with it. Not when it was more useful as a threat of how the Hero could pin Dabi in place. A casual reminder that he could do as he wished with Dabi, and no one would stop him.

“If we don’t have any news for you can keep your ass out of the base. I’ll come over the same as usual. No one at the base needs your Herobullshit attitude hanging around.” He snaps at him. Hawks kept finding their bases despite Dabi routinely checking for stalkers and it’s gotten to the point where if he doesn't want the rat with wings to show up he goes to his apartment. He should tell Shigaraki to move it again when he gets back.

Tomura knew something was wrong. Asking got him nothing but upturned lips and insults in return. The one time he tried to corner his second-in-command it got him lit on fire. Tomura wasn’t sure what it would take to fully bring Dabi into his party. If the scarred man would ever be willing to. Dabi seemed to have his mind set on his own goals. He still only trusted Twice and Giran with his number staying absent from important meetings.

The conversation couldn’t wait until Dabi was comfortable with his boss anymore. Tomura dropped his coffee cup and snagged Dabi by the arm as the man’s knees buckled. Dabi glared at the hand on his arm right before emptying his stomach into the kitchen sink. Tomura's fingers twitching as he waited for him to be done. Both of them were really content to ignore the elephant in the room.

“I’m fucking fine.” Dabi rasped out as Tomura had Twice come over and pick him up. Setting him on the couch.

Dabi retched and Sako quickly pulled a trash can out of nowhere. He wasn’t sure if it was the same magic Kurogiri had always pulled on him or if it was Sako’s quirk. Maybe the man was an actual magician for all that he knew. Tomura had a team falling apart at the seams right now and Dabi wouldn't work with him. Heart events and trust took time. He’d achieved one that night on the roof and he would wait for the next ones as well.

Dabi had been spending a lot of time with the new recruit, leaving without saying anything and staying the night. Shigaraki suspected there was something between them. The way Dabi always had to be in Hawks eyesight and the nights he spent over there.

“How long have you been sick, Dabi?” Mr.Compress asked as he peeled Dabi out of his jacket. Rubbing the man's back as he melted into the couch.

“ It's just an infection, it happens.” Dabi mumbled, laid back against the couch, shrugging Sako’s concerned hands off him. His shoulders were slumped and covered in a cold clammy sweat, causing him to shiver.

Tomura’s nails dug deeper into his bloody neck. Scratching and peeling away at the scabs there. Dabi had probably gotten it by living with them. He had access to a shower and medical supplies through that fucking Hero recruit. Maybe, he’d been coming back to the base for them. He brought back shit often enough for the members and slept here still. At least, Tomura thought he slept here still. “Fucking gross.” Tomura sneered to himself as he thought about their space, mumbling soundlessly to himself as he looked around. This base wasn’t the cleanest. None of them had been, especially for a member with open wounds. There was still only so much they could do. Mr. Compress stiffened and glanced over at him. “You got sick because we’ve been moving around a lot right?” Sako’s voice was thick with concern and trepidation.

Dabi rolled his eyes. He pushed his shirt up so the LoV could see a scrape cutting across healthy skin and scar tissue. One of the seams that wrapped around his back up to his chest had staples missing. The area was swollen and shiny with inflammation and the accompanying pus produced as Dabi’s body desperately tried to heal itself. The infected area wasn't turning extreme colors so nothing would have to be removed there at least. “Got in a fight. Lost.” He let out a laugh that ended in a coughing fit. Dabi flinched away when Sako went to rub his back. He let his eyes slip closed as he gasped for air. “Not everything is about you guys. I'm just shit at keeping my mouth shut.”

Finally the shaking and sickness around Dabi got so bad that he asked Tomura where they were. Cementing the fact that unless they can kidnap a doctor and force them to help Dabi, he won't get better this time. Dabi had been insistent on sleeping around the League since he’d gotten sick. Whether it's for Dabi to guard them or for them to watch over him is something Tomura still hasn’t figured out. Toga is constantly wrinkling her nose with a worried look on her face and flips knives in a nervous habit everytime someone encroaches ‘her bubble’. Her bubble keeps fucking growing to the point where it’s just the same room as her sometimes.

“We have to give him up.” Tomura finally makes the choice for them as they watch Sako try and cool him down with a damp rag. It’s about as sanitary as they could get and hasn’t been working.

Tomura doesn't realize that his thoughts have been so similar and different from his members until Shuichi is flinching away like he’s said something worse than he has. He knows none of them trust the Hero, but Dabi spends some nights there and it's surer to be cleaner than where they are squatting. He’d have access to proper medical care if something goes wrong or if he gets worse.

“He has to go. That stuipd Hero can take better care of him than we can.” He snarled at them and Toga stepped forward, knife held tight in her hands and shoulders loose. Only a noob underestimated Toga. He’d seen her fighting against Heroes and there was a reason he was unafraid to send her in amongst the Heroes to spy.

“I am not giving Dabi up. If we have to steal a nurse then I can just take their place until Dabi is able to come with.” She took another measured step in Tomura’s direction.

‘Hold on, Maybe the boss has a plan. Shut and let her kill him! Like, we give him to the Heroes and they wouldn’t just kill a sick man right? Yes they would, they’ll kill us all.” Jin held his head in hands as he struggled to word what he wanted to convey. Tomura watched with frustrated red eyes as he argued with himself. This was not what he meant at all. What kind of leader leads their team straight to the enemy when their health bar is so low?

“Then we break him out right? That’s stupid and risky. I wouldn’t do jackshit for that weak guy. Survival of the fittest.” Jin looked up at him and his eyes were watering.

“We’re not handing him over to the actual heroes? What the fuck guys?” his voice was low as he tried not to yell.

“You want to leave him here for anyone who comes by then? He’s sick, Tomura-kun!” Toga glared at him and the knife shifted in her hands. “He needs us! He needs the League! He would never let anything happen to you!”

Sako kept one hand splayed on Dabi as he carefully watched the one going argument with thinned lips. Dabi was starting to wake up due to their noise but it seemed as if this time he wasn’t fully making it to the world of waking. Continuing to sleep fitfully.

“He’s sick and not getting better.” Tomura delicately grabbed Toga’s sleeve when she went to swipe at him. “Most adults who are staying out almost every night with another person are generally fond of them. He'll be happy. He’s a fucking Hero and he can’t take care of him better than we could ever hope to!”

“What are you talking about?!” Shuichi crossed his arms, walking over to stand by his boss. At least one member was willing to listen to him.

“Dabi’s been recruiting a Hero. One of the top 10. The Hero can take our burnt bitch until he’s not dying. He has access to medical equipment and can bribe a doctor. Dabi’s going to recover a lot quicker in a clean area with proper care. And we, we just dont fucking have that right now.” Tomura grit his teeth as Toga pulled her arm back and the room was dead silent.

‘It won’t, it won’t always be like this. I have a plan okay?” Tomura flung the hair that tended to fall in his eyes back. Brushing strands behind his ears as he stared his members in the eye.

“But we are going to have to move and Dabi needs- think of it like giving him a vacation from us. He gets to go enjoy 3 meals a day, sleep better and some hot water. When he comes back we are going to be able to at least have a place for him to be kept stable.” None of them looked reassured.

“I don’t like it. I’ll kill the bird if he hurts a hair on Dabi’s head.” Twice reached out and felt the skin on Dabi’s clammy forehead. “Whatever we have to do. We don’t have to do this. We can kidnap a nurse. I'll be a nurse, I'll steal an outfit and everything.”

“So were we in agreement? We’re going to pass him to the Heroand when he’s recovered? We will never have to watch him go through this again.” Tomura tried to speak with conviction. As if he knew that the Hero was on their side. As if Dabi wasn’t dying feet from them of something a Hero would never dream of. He wanted to assure them it was alright and that he had a plan. Tomura had nothing. Nothing but riskier and riskier gambles for party members he couldn't sacrifice.

They’d all die. Either slow and sick, like Dabi. Or during his craptastic ‘plan’ to get them resources and money. Still, he got slow nods from the league and went outside to make the call. He was going to have to pull a better and less desperate plan out of thin air.

Several hours later Hawks walked into the base like he owned. It sent shivers up Tomura’s back. He was a Hero and they were Villains. They outnumbered him technically, yet he seemed perfectly at ease and hadn’t even bothered to let them know he was coming. When they were all on high alert with an injured party member. Maybe he was so cocky he thought that they couldn’t kill him by accident. Tomura knew they very well could with how keyed up they all were.

“What part of ‘Get your feathery ass here’ was unclear?” Tomura stepped into his space. Fathers hand covered his face as his hands shook and he scratched at his neck with familiar destructive anxiety. “No knocking? Are you that confident you're welcome here?”

“Didn’t think I really had to announce myself considering you were expecting me. Sorry I had duties to attend to on my way here. Where is he?” Hawks looked around as if expecting them to just hand over their gift wrapped team member. Grimacing as he reminded himself that although that’s what it felt like, that’s not what they were doing.

“Follow me. His room is back here.” He led Hawks back, hating every moment his back was turned to him. The way he stared made him uncomfortable.

“Couldn’t have been too bad if he’s not ready to go. He hates me spending time around you guys for some reason. Like he’s jealous I'm gonna cheat or something. Staples doesn't come across as a real insecure guy but you can’t judge a book by its cover right?” He threw a patented press smile at Tomura. Tomura didn’t want to decay the Hero. Hedidn’t want to slap that look off his face.

He wanted to ram his fist into the Hero’s perfect teeth and shove them down his throat. Wanted to see him starving, bleeding, asking for help. Wanted to rip that nose that wrinkled at their living spaces and shove it between his teeth, chew it and spit the mangled mess out.

He wanted an end to all the Heroes, and this one. This one was one he had to hand his second-in-command over to.

Best case scenario?

He was wrong and Hawks cared for Dabi. Then he would at least have someone who could attend to Dabi. Dabi could murder them when he was better and not a limp sack of scars and bones on a dumpster dived couch.

A room for everyone. With beds. Room to grow so no one was moving too often or trying to find a spare bed.

“Damn.” Hawks let out a low whistle as he walked up to Dabi. “You look like worse shit than usual.”

Dabi sleepily stumbled off the couch when Hawks started talking. Trying to back out of Hawks space at the same time as stay upright. He threw a hand over his mouth as he blearily looked around for a bucket. Sighing, Tomura placed it next to Dabi, who heaved into the bucket.

Dabi laid back down on the couch, covering himself with a ripped crochet blanket and closing his eyes with a low groan. Hawks stepped up and grabbed the blanket away from him, tossing it back over the back of the couch as he picked up the small framed Villain.

“I can take him off your hands. Doesn't seem real safe to be leaving him here so I’m glad you called me.” The hero’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. Leaving Tomura with a bad feeling. He had to put aside his own feelings about Heroes and how disgustingly performative they could be. Dabi shoved against the Hero’s chest and muttered feverishly.

“It’s just your boy-toy Dabi.” Tomura walked up to them and caught Dabi’s hand, smirking when Dabi looked up at him with blank glassy eyes. “You're going on Vacation, I’ll come get you when we’ve leveled up enough.”

Dabi’s expression remained blank as Hawks pulled him away. He didn’t watch as Hawks took Dabi out of the room and then out of the base. Quickly shoving the last bag of crap they had through the door. Bright ass winged fucker would bring Heroes down on their head even if he didn’t mean to. Which meant moving bases again.

Dabi had nightmares of being trapped in Hawks arms. Covered by his wings, the feathers being laid on him sharp and if he twitched too hard away they would slice his skin open. Hawks rubbing his back as he puked only to start plucking the staples out one by one and then jamming them back in. Hawks feeding him and making stupid noises as he shoved it down his throat. Of being used as he wove in and out of consciousness. Hawks cuming on his sleeping face or the seam line on his chest.

The next time Dabi was fully lucid he realized they were not nightmares.

He was somehow in Hawks apartment, an IV stuck in his arm and taped down. Dabi was horrified to realize he was naked beneath the sheet he was covered with. His chest seized and he coughed up gunk into his fist, Hawks walking around the corner saw him.

“Morning sleeping beauty.” The Hero shook a bottle in his hand as he walked over. Dabi flinched back and gritted his teeth as his legs cramped. His arm hurt and if it wasn’t for the scar tissue he was sure he would be able to see a dark bruise. As it was it ached and he couldn’t tell how bad the damage was.

“Fuck off.” He snapped at Hawks as the Hero tipped two pills into his hand and held them out. Dabi had no idea how long he had been here. It wouldn’t be the first time Dabi had woken up to Hawks having raped him. Or in the process of raping him.

There wasn’t anything gross around his thighs and he was in no more pain than usual. Reaching up to hold his pounding head revealed he couldn’t trust that though. Hair still damp so Hawks must have showered him. It wasn’t like his consent mattered to the Hero. “Sure if you want to end up right back here. How do you think you ended up here ‘Dabi’?” He questioned as Dabi stared at him. Hands in white knuckled fists holding on to the sheet. He picked at the IV shoved into his arm as he refused to answer. He didn’t know.

“The League gave you to me. They didn’t really want to wait around for you to suddenly be healthy.” Hawks said with an almost apologetic tone. Dabi looked from the pills he was holding out to the hero’s fake expression.

“I don’t believe you.” Dabi stared at the pills making no move to take them. Sighing Hawks turned the bottle around so Dabi could see it. Amoxicillin, regular antibiotics then, which made sense since Hawks needed him to try getting into the League. The IV was probably because he was dehydrated, which wasn’t unusual. Still, if he was awake there was no need to have it in. He swallowed the small capsules and peeled off the tape on his elbow. Gently easing out the needle.

“Well I’m the only thing you’ve got now.” Hawks smirked at him. Dabi looked away but Hawks grabbed him by the chin. The Hero’s thumb pressing directly on his staples and causing him to wince. He straddled Dabi’s waist and pressed a messy kiss to his lips. Dabi’s quirk smoldered ineffectively as he tried to force it to work. Hawks was moving too fast and he didn’t want this, unable to concentrate enough to use his quirk as Hawks gripped him to tighty and grabbed his dick.

A flicker of flame escaped and Hawks sighed at the sight of it. The Hero didn’t waste time reaching over to the coffee table and dumping the glass of water on it.

“Is that your way of telling me you want me to take us to the shower so I can have my fun?” Acidic yellow eyes bored into Dabi’s as he tried to force his heavy limbs to move.

“It’s my way of telling you to leave me the fuck alone.” He snapped back at the Hero. Hawks looking fake affronted as his phone rang. “I’ll be back, we can discuss how to plan to pay your way here if it’s not with your body when I get back.”

Hawks left out the door and Dabi stood up, starting the search for clothes he could escape in. Knowing Hawks he wouldn’t be gone long. He eventually found a pair of sweats he shoved on after looking everywhere for his clothes. Hawks must have thrown them out.

The Hero had, of course, came through the door right as he was leaving. Trying to disappear into the setting sun as Dabi coughed and tried to get himself down the fire escape faster. Hawks walked through the door after him, not bothering to rush as he turned and shut the door after himself. He stuck his hands in his pockets and cracked his neck as he stalked down after Dabi.

“Aren't we past this? Where are you even going, Dabi? I told you the League gave you up, they moved as well. Who knows where they are at this point.” The Hero walked after him. “I take care of you don’t I?”

“You’ve fucking drugged and raped me.” Dabi shouted back at him, voice raspy as his lungs refused to draw in enough air. He coughed and mucus came up his throat. He spat it at Hawks. Dabi had no idea how long it had been that he was with the Hero but… At this point he was starting to believe Hawks. The League must have given up on him. Determined that he was no longer a use to them with his stupid ragdoll body and poor health. He had just been using them right back to achieve his own goals so he couldn't really blame them.

A coughing fit seized Dabi. He wheezed, doubled over in the alley, as Hawks blocked the light coming into it. The Hero’s yellow eyes nearly glowed. Dabi was reminded of fool’s gold. He was a fool for ever falling for him.

Hawks walked up to him The Hero placed his chemical scented hand over Dabi’s mouth and nose, waiting until he passed out and fell to the ground with a roll of his eyes. Hawks easily picked up the Villain and tossed him over his own shoulder. walking back the block to his apartment with the villain slung over his shoulder.

Dabi woke up to being thrown on the bed painfully. Uncaring if it hurt or the state he would end up in afterwards he blindly reached for his quirk. He should just cremate the Hero and steal his apartment. His quirk didn’t come to him and Hawks gave a smug grin as he pulled the Villain’s sweats down. Trying to kick him with his heavy limbs did nothing.

“You look cute in my borrowed clothes. How am I supposed to resist you when you look all sexy flushed like this? I could keep you like this, you know. Never let you finish the antibiotics. Would be fun until they no longer worked at least.” He hummed as he stroked Dabi’s thigh.

There was shouting as Dabi was brought back to himself and Hawks was throwing pants on himself as he shouted at Twice. Dabi let out a chuckle as he realized he was going insane, Twice was part of the League and no matter how good of a guy he was he wasn’t coming to save him.

“He’s not even responding to me. What did you do to him?” Twice yelled as he started making a clone of himself, splitting. The original spun around as Dabi laughed. What had Hawks been doing to him? “Dabi I came to check on you because this dickhead kept telling us you didn’t want to talk to us and we know that’s not true!” His mask was damp with tears and Dabi didn’t know what to say to an ex- friend. Coworker, whatever Twice was. “We hate you back.”

“He’s been uh, raping me. I think. You guys gave me to him though. So I don’t think he really expected anyone to visit.” he glanced around uncomfortably. What did they think the Hero would do with him when they decided to just do this without his consent?

There was a roar of outrage from Jin. Several clones of Twice were busy holding Hawks back as the original pulled Dabi out of bed. He numbly accepted it and pulled his sweats up. Jin was slinging his arm over his shoulder, gently helping him up.

“We can deal with him later. Can you walk? What about your quirk?” He asked as they moved towards the door. There was a sickening crunch Dabi knew well as the sound of bones being cracked and twisted, when he glanced back Hawks was dogpiled by clones. Even as they were destroyed more were made and Hawks wings were twisted to be facing downwards. Mangled and bloody as he was passed out. “Forget your quirk, it’s useless anyways.”

“I'd rather not use it if I don’t have to.” He muttered as Twice walked him down to street level. A warp portal in an alley waiting for them. The familiar noise of the League greeting his ears as they stepped through.

“Do you want to clean up before you're mobbed? We missed you.” He quietly commented as he quietly asked as they paused in what appeared to be a hallway. “We got you a room! I bet you’ll hate it! And your nurse!”

“What? Why do I have a room?” Dabi looked blearily around as he saw the

Examining the actual hallway in what appeared to be an actual house. Mansion actually.“I don’t need ujiko.”

“Shigaraki killed him before we took over the mansion.” Jin whispered to him,frowning before a thought occurred to him. “Wait, did you actually believe that asshole? That we just- just handed you over?”

“It doesn't matter. I’ll be out of the League's hair as soon as I shower.” He jerked himself away from Jin, shaking off the hand that went to hold him steady. “I’m fine.”

“No. we would never do that!” Jin shouted as he hovered near him. “Shigaraki actually had to fight us on it. We couldn’t wait to get rid of you! We didn’t want to give you to him at all!”

“Then why did I wake up in his apartment? Drugged up with him telling me how you had led him right to me when he was the reason I had an infection in the first place?” He snapped at Jin as Shigaraki came around the corner. Another coughing fit starting up. His breathing made a whistling noise as he breathed with his agitated lungs.

“What’s going on?” Shig narrowed his eyes at the state of his second in command. Neck already itching. Dabi had not been looked after obviously.

Dabi glared at him but didn’t answer as he stalked off down the hall. Jin shook his head when Shigaraki looked at him.

“Kill the bastard.” He told Shigaraki as he lit a cigarette. “We were wrong, He’s a dick that never should have been near one of us. He told Dabi that we just gave him up. We might as well have.” He wandered off as he went to tell the rest of the League that Dabi was back, but it was up in the air whether he would be staying.

The next evening after Shigaraki and Dabi had spent most of the day arguing over how Dabi exactly had ended up with Hawks. How the League had been ready to split over him abandoning one of them. That the mansion was at least in part brought about by Dabi being immunocompromised.

Shigaraki grinned as Kuroguri opened a portal to the Hero’s apartment. He just wanted a few words with him.

“Are you sure you don’t want anyone to accompany you, Young Tomura?” Kuroguri asked as Shigaraki popped the buttons holding on his artist gloves.

“I was the one that pushed for it. I was the one who assumed that they were something they obviously were not.” Shigaraki bit out as he threw his gloves on the floor in front of him, stepping through the portal as he rolled his shoulders.

He wrinkled his nose at the minimalist apartment, the place was spotless like no one lived in it and Hawks was removing his Hero uniform. Back to Shigaraki, He took advantage and activated his quirk, grabbing a vase and hurling it at the Hero. Hawks wings had stiffened the moment Shigarki had moved. Suddenly aware of the Villain despite him not making a noise. Several loose feathers hovering in the air despite his wings being wrapped tight in casts on his back.

“You thought we wouldn’t come for him? That he didn’t have anyone?” He hissed as he stalked forward. Hawks dodged the vase disintegrating as it flew towards him. Sending a few feathers his way, Shigaraki grabbed them midair with all 5 fingers. Not caring or truly even feeling the cuts they left.

“You're the one who just expected me to take someone into my home and not have them pay for it like some sort of freeloader.” The Hero sneered at Shigaraki. “He liked it anyways, came back enough times if I promised him something in return.”

Shigarki ran for him, sliding under a table and more feathers as he touched the floor with bloody hands. The floor quickly started to crumble as he shoved himself into Hawks space. Snagging a chair by the leg as he came out the other side.

“We both know you need my connections and money too much to kill me Shigaraki. One man is not worth your whole operation.” he smirked with that stupid look on his face again. The face of a man who had so much more than the League did and like nothing could touch him.

Hawks, distracted by his floor crumbling and unused to fighting in an enclosed space while stationary, didn't expect the leg of what had once been a chair to clock him in his face. It crumbled in Shigaraki’s hands and dropping it he slammed both hands against Hawks ribcage. Continuing to push as Hawks struggled to get the control necessary to send one of his feathers for him.They hovered wavering in the air before falling to the ground.

“Go fuck yourself Hero. The League does not have replaceable members. We’re not Heroes.” He growled out as Hawks crumpled. Shoving a fist as hard as he could into the Heroes face and grinning with insane satisfaction as he felt teeth break. Shoving them and his fist towards the back of his throat. Hawks choked on his own teeth as he decayed slowly.

Shigaraki carefully rinsed his hands off in Hawks’ sink, hurrying as the apartment itself started crumbling to dust. Bending down near the dust pile he scooped the soft pile into a jar. Screwing a lid on,. Toga had taken the liberty earlier of decorating it with rhinestones and drops of blood before writing Hawks name elegantly on it. He would leave it outside his friend’s door. It wouldn’t fix his mistake but at least it might show he didn’t want Dabi to leave.

#dabi todoroki #Dabi #Rape #Non con #Hawks #Evil Hawks #Asshole Hawks #Hero Hawks #shigaraki tomura #bnha #mha #DabiHawks #takami keigo #thedarkonewrites

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