#I went to bed early with a headache now I’m wide awake kill me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bimormondisaster · 4 years ago

Text

Four times Crosshair helped his brothers and one time he did the best he could.

Hello! This is my first time doing something like this so I hope you enjoy it. I'm still very new to writing and I suck at editing so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

Word count: 2,781

Warnings:

Wrecker- Mentions of blood, violence, Hurt character.

Hunter- Mentions of overstimulation and migraines

Echo- Nightmares

CT-9904- That scene from s1 e1 tbb

Wrecker (Cadets, age around 16)

The feeling of the clone’s face against Crosshair’s fist was satisfying. Even after the blood started to cover his knuckles, he kept punching. It wasn’t until the cadet’s eyes closed that he stopped. He let the boy’s tunic go, and he hit the ground with a dull thud. He would wake up eventually and Crosshair would inevitably get punished but right now he didn’t care.

He was alone when he got the com. He was getting cleaned up after some private training., about to meet his brothers in the cafeteria but when Hunter told him that kriffen reg had landed Wrecker in the med bay he changed course.

He made his way to the medbay. Stopping only to wash the blood off his hands. Looking in the mirror he noticed his hair was getting grayer. He wasn’t sure why his hair was graying so early but he didn’t mind it. Wrecker always teased him about it but he thought it made him look more mature.

The med bay door slid open revealing Hunter sitting beside a bed as Tech paced. A droid was hovering over the bed occupied by Wrecker.

Hunter stood as he walked over. “What took you so long?”

“I was busy.” He forced himself to look away from Wrecker’s bloody and bruised form and to Hunter. “How is he?”

Tech answered first. “Under these conditions, there is a 15 percent chance that he will wake up in the next hour, Every hour after that the chance goes up by 7.5 percent until hour five where if he’s not awake by then the chances lower by-”

“He’s going to be fine.” Hunter supplied, sending a comforting smile to Tech. The droid left without a word and the boys settled down. Wrecker’s face was swollen. The left side of his face was covered in bandages, including his eye. Every moment that he watched, that he saw his brother in this state, his fury grew.

“What happened?” He asked through clenched teeth.

Hunter and Tech shared a look and Tech adjusted his goggles.

“No one knows yet,” Hunter said.

His hands tensed into fists. The quickly bruising knuckles protested but he didn’t care. That’s when he saw it. Lula, tucked in beside Wrecker, was looking almost as bad as its owner. One of the ears was hanging on by a thread and a leg was missing.

Without saying anything Crosshair stood up and grabbed the stuffed toy.

“I found the leg in the hall.” He pulled it out and offered it to Crosshair who took it without a word.

Crosshair didn’t know how to sew but he tried his best with the supplies he could find in the med bay. They all waited. Hunter as still as possible, trying to keep the squad as calm as possible. Tech buried himself in his padd and tried to distract himself. Although every hour Crosshair could hear him whisper the new odds of Wrecker waking up.

Crosshair folded in on himself completely focused on fixing Lula. His long legs protested being forced into the chair, his back ached from being slouched, but he didn’t mind. After two hours Lula was all fixed up. It wasn’t what Crosshair would call a good job, but it was the best he could do. He just hoped it was enough.

Tech

If Tech wasn’t dead at the end of this Crosshair was going to kill him. Not surprisingly the job went bad and now they were in a shootout. His scope allowed him to see the chaos in the warehouse from the hill he was nested on. Amongst it all was Tech. Who disobeyed orders and abandoned his cover; running like a kriffin idiot trying to get to the computer.

“Tech get under cover!” Hunter’s voice came through the comm.

“No can do Hunter. If I can just-” Tech was cut off as more droids entered the warehouse, open firing.

Crosshair cursed under his breath and started to pick them off. There was little chance of this mission succeeding but that’s where they worked best. In the midst of the blaster fire, yelling, orders being called, and explosions he noticed something. Another blaster was shooting into the warehouse at Tech who had, so far, dodged the fire purely by dumb luck. He watched carefully, tuning out the bickering in his ear.

A streak of a blaster shot through the air heading for the very clueless Tech who was pinned down. Without thinking he aimed. Time slowed as he watched the bullet fly through the air. His finger tightened on the trigger and in the time of a heartbeat he fired. The bullets collided and went wide, missing Tech who was quickly getting surrounded.

He aimed again, this time at the chains holding up the large doors. He shot. The first chain broke. Reaming at the other chain he fired again. His brothers could handle the droids, He’d handle the sniper. He shot again. The chain rattled but stayed in place. Another shot and the door dropped crushing the few droids underneath.

“Cross what’s happening? Was that you?” Hunter’s voice broke through the wall of concentration he put up.

“Little busy” He replied, moving positions to aim where the other nest would be and waited. One breath, two, three, there. Movement caught his eye as someone poked their head up. His finger tightened and he felt the familiar kick of his gun. The figure dropped and He stood.

By the time grabbed a speeder and made his way to the warehouse the fight was over and other than a few burns and cuts his brothers were safe.

Hunter

Hunter was having another bad day. He didn’t have them as often as he did when they were cadets. He had learned how to suppress it better. Or, Crosshair suspected, how to hide them better.

However, he still had days where he was easily overwhelmed. They all knew the signs. Talking quieter, flinching more, headaches, tensing at the smallest sound, not wanting people to talk or touch him, sitting further away from the group. Crosshair had had migraines before and remembered how awful those were, he was glad that he would never have to deal with increased senses.

Hunter was in the cockpit looking out the window. Everyone had tried to give him as much space as possible so they were making themselves busy elsewhere. He set a steaming cup of the tea he always drank when he had bad days down as gently as possible in front of Hunter and sat across from him. They sat in silence for a time. He watched Hunter slowly sip the tea.

“Thank you,” Hunter whispered

“You should go lay down. I’ll keep the others quiet.” Although he had lowered his voice Hunter still winced.

“I’m okay, We’re almost to the mission anyway.”

Stubborn as always. Wordlessly Crosshair checked the computers, there was an uninhabited planet not far from them. He entered the coordinates and the ship changed course.

Hunter raised a questioning eyebrow and he just gave him a smile.

“Where are we going?”

“Jargon. It’s quiet.”

“Cross I-” He glared at the dash that beeped and sighed. “Thank you”

He hummed in acknowledgment. The mission could wait a few hours, or even a few days, as long as his brothers were okay.

Echo

Crosshair couldn’t sleep. He and Echo had just gotten back to the ship after a week away. Tech, Hunter, and Wrecker were still away and weren’t expected until at least the next day. Why Hunter decided to make him go alone with the new guy was beyond him. He wasn’t interested in making friends. He had his brothers and that was more than enough.

He laid in his bunk staring up at the ceiling. The ship was eerily quiet with everyone being away. As much as he wanted to enjoy it, it filled him with dread. He had grown to love the noise and chaos that came with the bad batch and missed it when it was gone.

He heard movement and was pulled from his thoughts.

“No… No” Echo was murmuring. He sat up and got out of bed to see what was going on. Quietly making his way over he could see Echo tossing in his bunk. His first instinct was to call for Hunter. This was more of his thing. However, that wasn’t an option.

Kneeling beside the bed he put a hand on the clone’s shoulder. “Echo,” Echo responded by getting louder.

“No! Please!”

“Echo!” He shook him. “Wake up.”

The tossing stopped and his eyes opened with a deep breath. He tried to sit up but the hand stopped him. “Rex will come back for me!”

“He already has.” He removed his hand and leaned back to give the man some space. Dealing with nightmares wasn’t anything new. They all had them.

Clarity came into Echos eyes. “Crosshair?” He sat up, still breathing heavily.

“You had a nightmare.” It was a fact and yet Echo looked down ashamed. Crosshair watched carefully as Echo looked everywhere but him. “I’m sorry I woke you.” With that, he laid back down. Crosshair internally cursed both the regs and Hunter.

Nightmares were a part of life for the clones however the regs had something against talking about them. They preferred to keep the pain a secret, pretend it wasn’t there. Why they were taboo to talk about was beyond him. He had spent many nights listening to his brothers talk about theirs and he had spent almost as much time sitting up with at least one of his brothers because of his own nightmares.

While he understood why and even accepted bringing Echo aboard he still wasn’t that close to him and didn’t plan on getting close. He was, after all a reg. A reg who had special abilities now, but a reg nonetheless. He knew that Hunter wanted him to let Echo in the way he had let in his brothers. He also knew that he didn’t care what Hunter wanted. However, as he watched Echo close his eyes and pretend to fall back asleep his heart twisted.

He stood. “Come with me.” Without waiting he walked out of the ship. On his way out he grabbed a blanket.

A few moments after he walked out onto the ship’s ramp, Echo joined him.

“Crosshair? Is there a problem?” He still looked scared. Like any minute he’d be sucked back into his dreams never to return.

“Sit.” Echo did as was ordered. Sitting on the ramp. The black sky was filled with twinkling stars. Cross put the blanket over Echo’s shoulders and sat next to him.

Crosshair was looking straight ahead. “If you are going to be a part of the bad batch you need to learn to accept help.”

“I don’t know what you-”

“Fresh air is the best remedy for nightmares.” He turned to look at Echo. “There is no use in keeping them bottled up.”

They sat there most of the night. Echo told him about his time before being taken, his brothers, his commanders. He told him about Fives and Rex. He told him about his time as an unwilling traitor to the republic he loved.

They both silently promised to not talk about that night again. Echo didn’t want to be embarrassed and Crosshair didn’t want this responsibility any more than he needed to take it. Or at least that’s what he would say if pressed.

The next morning Crosshair was woken up by his brother’s arrival. Their part of the mission was a success. And as the five of them walked into the ship and Crosshair figured that maybe four brothers wouldn’t be so bad.

CT-9904

Good soldiers follow orders.

The rest of the bad batch was in the hanger. Predictable. They always thought they were a step ahead. Now he would show them how flawed their thinking really was. They were cowards trying to run away.

Hunter walked out from behind the crates. Reckless a small part of him thought. He ignored it. He had eyes on Wrecker, Echo, and Omega. All behind the crates. Tech was most likely in the ship.

“Best stand down Sargent,” He said. They were in a standoff and Crosshair knew who would win when the time came. The traitors wouldn’t hurt him. “Make it easy on yourself.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Hunter replied.

Yes

‘Quiet’

“We should’ve killed that Jedi. You disobeyed orders” Why didn’t Hunter follow the orders? If he had just been a good soldier, a good leader, then none of this would be happening.

“I did what I thought was right.” Hunters snapped, stepping forward.

“You never could see the bigger picture.” He shrugged. “Now surrender.”

Let them go.

Hunter glanced back at the group as they prepared for a firefight. Wrecker put his helmet on.

These are your brothers.

“Is that an order?” Hunter looked back at him.

He let out a chuckle. “I guess it is.”

Don’t do this.

“Well, I guess I’m disobeying that one too.”

They stayed staring at each other. Waiting to see who would make the first move. He spat out the toothpick.

Stop, please, no.

‘Quiet,’

His finger tightened as the thunder rumbled. He wanted Hunter to come peacefully. Why did Hunter never listen? He didn’t want to hurt them.

But he would do what he must.

In one motion he lifted his arm, set the blaster on it and fired. Hunter ducked and it hit the ramp of the ship. A part of him was screaming that this was wrong but he continued. The clones he was with open fired. Clone force 99 returned fire and two smoke bombs were thrown. They moved in.

He took aim again. This time using a heat sensor. He let off a few shots then waited. They needed to clear the smoke and when they did…

The sound of metal hitting metal rang through the air as the smoke cleared. Wrecker was in the middle of it and through one of the container lids, knocking some clones down.

Taking aim all he could see was the second one coming for him. He rolled out of the way as the containers fell where he was moments ago.

He aimed.

NO!

He shot, hitting Wrecker’s armour. He’d survive.

This time Wrecker fell. His brothers wouldn’t fall for it but the girl might and if he got a clear shot on the girl Hunter would soon follow.

Sure enough, a blonde head poked out from behind the crates and he fired again. He missed as she was pulled back undercover.

The ship started up. They couldn’t go. They needed to stay, needed to see that this was the right thing.

“Seal the bay doors!” He ordered. The clone to his right. He ran for the panel on the wall.

A light started flashing and a warning alarm beep. The door didn’t shut.

“Sir! Someone is overriding the controls.”

Tech.

He took aim once again. Hunter was giving Omega orders. She would be his target as they tried to leave.

“Only one way out Hunter. Your move.” He said.

Traitor.

The voice was loud and annoying. He shook it off.

He put his finger on the trigger.

“Go!”

Hunter and Echo stood and fired. Moving into the walkway, towards Wrecker. Towards the ship. Moving forward to cover he fired. He made it behind the crates and mentally kicked himself. Why wasn’t he aiming properly? This should be over already.

The last clone fell, hit by the oncoming fire. He turned his head to try and see where they were but couldn’t see them. Only the blaster bolts. He stood and took aim. Hunter was in his sights. This time he wouldn’t miss and he wouldn’t have mercy.

Stop!

His finger tightened on the trigger when suddenly electricity ran through the gun. He watched it drop and looked to where the shot was fired. Standing on the ramp was Omega. Blaster in hand.

He could swear he heard laughing from somewhere inside of him.

He pulled the blaster off of his hip and aimed. Omega shot first. Both the shots missing as he ran for cover.

You’ve lost. Let them go.

The ship lifted off and he ran towards it. Firing. None of his shots hit and soon the door was shut.

He stopped running once they were in space. He put the blaster away and took off his helmet. He looked into space as the mix of emotions bubbled inside of him. They left him. He failed his first mission. He knew Wrecker would live and his brothers would be okay. That’s all that matters.

#The bad batch #bad batch #crosshair #clone force 99 #bad batch fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #sargeant hunter #sargent hunter #arc trooper echo #tbb omega #fanfiction

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torisfeather · 4 years ago

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Nightmare

A one-shot written for @creative-lampd-liberties

You can also find it here on AO3 and Ffnet

Janus jolted awake with a gasp, his heart pumping so hard he could feel the blood rushing in his temples. His panting mouth felt dry, while the human side of his face was way too wet with tears and sweat. His eyes, wide open, stared at the ceiling, too afraid to look somewhere else. His ears resonated with the sound of the nightmare he just had.

By the time he realized that he was in his room and that this was nothing more than a bad dream, his head started throbbing.

He winced, closing his mouth and tasting his cardboard-like tongue for a second before his glands remembered how to make saliva. He ran a hand over his hot forehead, as if he could wipe his headache away, but only managed to ruffle his messy hair more. He tried to close his teary eyes again but it was like the image of his nightmare was burned on the inner side of his eyelids.

It's all your fault…

The mere thought filled his chest with sobs.

He felt like he was suffocating, like in those legends of sleep-demons sitting on people's chests in their sleep. He could only cry, cry like a sick child, trying not to see, not to hear the remnants of his dream. His dream…

I don't want to see you ever again!

It was so painful. Why was it this painful? Dreams weren't supposed to be painful.

"Janus!"

His name cut through the pain, though he did not recognize the voice at first. A face appeared through the tears. Long bangs and eyes with dark shadows. "Virgil?"

"Janus, what's wrong?"

Even if he wanted to, Janus couldn't lie in this kind of state. He could only utter a few words : "A nightmare… My head…"

He suddenly felt something cool on his forehead, and almost moaned. It felt so good against the throb.

"You're burning up!" Virgil said, stupefied, pawing at his forehead like it could make his temperature go down. "How do you even have a temperature?"

Janus shrugged, pressing his head against Virgil's hand. Please, oh please let him stay there. His own hand reached out and squeezed the cold palm.

He wasn't sure how much time passed, but somehow, as he squeezed that hand next to him, his tears started to subside and he was slowly able to think more clearly. Eventually, he sat up and let go, wrapping his arms around him and trying to smile in spite of his splitting headache. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, doing his best to relax, to no avail.

"Apologies for this sorry sight… I'm better now," he said.

"Yeah right, you look like shit."

"I know, Virgil, thank you," Janus sighed. "Why are you here?"

"I'm here because I felt someone's fear levels explode like a firework and the ashes haven't settled yet."

"Ah, so you wanted to know if there was a danger," Janus understood, looking down at his hands. "You see there is nothing, everything is under control."

"As if I was going to leave you, dumbass."

Janus blinked in surprise, grateful for the dark room hopefully keeping Virgil from seeing his expression. "The light sides are rubbing off on you," he tried to tease.

"Shut up. Where's the light?"

With a snap, Janus lit up his bedside candelabra and took a quick look at Thomas's internal clock, which in his room took the appearance of an old, dark-wooded, intricate grandfather clock with a hypnotic and comforting pendulum. Apparently, it was sometime in the early hours of the morning. Just the best time to wake up from a nightmare, really, too early to feel actually rested, but too late to go back to sleep long enough to feel better.

Not that he particularly wanted to go back to sleep now that he couldn't even close his eyes without seeing the miserable, desperate face of…

I wish I never knew you…

Janus needed some water.

He carefully turned to the side of the bed where Virgil was standing, pretending his head wasn't killing him right now.

"What are you doing?"

"Obviously not taking care of myself," Janus muttered, rubbing his human eye with one hand and groping around the bedside table for a handkerchief with the other.

Virgil grabbed it before he could.

"Virgil, why-" Janus stopped in shock when Virgil started gently wiping his face. Then closed his eyes in delight when Virgil caressed his hot skin with his cold fingers. Janus didn't usually enjoy the cold, but he also didn't usually wake up in the middle of the night from a stress-induced fever nightmare.

"Here," Virgil said, holding the handkerchief in place for Janus to blow his nose, which he did by reflex. "Sorry, I'm not as good as Patton for this kind of thing."

"Why are you doing this?" Please don't stop.

"Because you need it," Virgil said.

"I can take care of myself."

"Listen- stop." Virgil grabbed his face, and it should have been uncomfortable, if his touch wasn't so grounding and cooling. "I know what you're thinking right now, so stop. I want to take care of you. Now, sit tight, I'm going to get you some painkillers."

Virgil left, and Janus immediately missed his presence. He decided not to wait. Slowly, trying not to move his head too much, he put on his slippers and robe over his pajamas, and quietly slithered out of his room, combing his fingers through his hair trying to look a little more presentable in case one of the others were awake.

The hallway was dark and empty as far as he could tell. Janus resisted the urge to turn on the light – anything was better than the images jumping at his vision in the dark, except waking up anyone, plus it might make his headache worse.

That hypothesis was verified when he finally reached the bathroom, closed the door and turned on the light – ow.

Janus rubbed his temples, stumbling to the sink, and took several sips of water.

"I told you to stay where you were."

"No, you didn't," Janus replied, trying a miserable smirk as Virgil entered the bathroom as well. He handed him a couple of pills.

They were placebos more than anything, really, but that's what you get when you and your pain are both imaginary.

He washed down the pill with another swig of water, bent over the sink, and took advantage of his position to throw a little bit of water in his face. The coolness it brought really helped soothe his headache, for a moment he even felt like he might be able to go back to sleep.

Hah. He snorted wryly. As if.

"Why are you laughing?"

"I just thought of something funny."

Every time he blinked, the same thing happened. That face, that sad, reproachful face, appeared, and he could almost hear the whispers again… You shouldn't be here…

He shook his head. You should know your place…

"Hey. Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong?" Virgil said, cupping his chin to make him look up. Janus closed his eyes, and Virgil's face was replaced with Thomas's, so similar. Worry replaced with contempt. He felt more tears roll down his cheek. He tried to open his eyes and look away, but he couldn't help it.

"N-nothing," he sniffled.

"Janus, come on…"

"I… I don't remember my nightmare."

"Oh," Virgil went, realizing, his expression growing softer, compassionate. "Sounds like a very bad one, huh?"

Janus almost laughed through the tears. "No, not at all. It was nothing, really, just…"

You're the worst thing that ever happened to me.

Janus bit his tongue and muffled another loud sob. He moved away from Virgil and rubbed his ears with the palms of his hands, like it could make the words go away. Virgil quickly caught up to him and wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace. For a moment, Janus didn't dare to move, then after a while, he returned the hug, sniffling into the other's hoodie.

"Shhhh, calm down, deep breaths, snakey," Virgil said, rubbing hard at the back of his neck in the best way possible.

Janus felt himself shake, and the tears come harder, but the need to sob was appeased somehow. He did his best to follow Virgil's advice, breathing in and out as slowly and deeply as he could.

"There we go, good job," Virgil praised him as he felt him calm down. He tilted his head back, just to look at him for a little while. "Now, what do we do when we're not fine?"

"… Self-care?" Janus tried.

"See, I knew you were still yourself," Virgil joked, and Janus smiled under the tears still running down his face. "You're going to have to help me though, you're the master of self-care, here. What do you need, right now?"

Automatically, Janus started mentally listing and self-checking his needs. He wasn't hungry, or thirsty anymore, he felt exhausted but there was no way he could go back to sleep right now, and he was so tense and hot from his headache, still covered in sweat… "A bath," he admitted quietly.

"Okay," Virgil smiled kindly. "Would you like me to stay with you, snakey?"

Janus bit his lip, but nodded. If Virgil was offering, he wasn't going to reject some company. Anything to not be left alone with his thoughts.

Virgil drew the bath, checking the temperature several times, as Janus undressed slowly, still sniffling. He laid his robe and pajamas over the closed toilet seat and let Virgil lead him into the bathtub, holding his hand as he sunk into the water.

He immediately let out a pleasured sigh, feeling his body temperature adjusting like all it needed was a reminder of where it should actually be. The tension left his neck and shoulders.

He only realized his eyes had closed when he opened them again to see Virgil undressing as well. "What are you doing?"

"Joining you, if that's okay? Nothing sexy, I promise"

Janus nodded and folded his legs to let Virgil take the other side of the bathtub. The anxious side shook his head and told him to move forward. Janus obeyed curiously, and smiled when Virgil climbed into the bathtub and sat behind him, his legs on either side of his thighs. He pulled him down against his chest and the two cuddled in the water.

"Do you still have a headache?" Virgil asked.

"A little."

So Virgil gently caressed his sides, kissing the back of his neck as his hands moved up his shoulders to his head, and started massaging his scalp.

It was like magic. Janus closed his eyes and hung his head, the pain receding between Virgil's fingers. He went completely limp, not thinking, not moving, just feeling the warm water licking his skin, resting in Virgil's embrace.

"Is it okay?" Virgil couldn't resist asking.

"It'sssss awessssssome."

"Are you lying?"

"No," Janus sighed.

"Okay, cool."

Virgil bit his lip, focused on his task. A few moments passed, and Janus could almost feel the questions starting to burden the anxious side. So despite the wonderful massage, he said: "Are you going to ask me about my nightmare?"

"No."

The surprise made Janus open his eyes again. "Why not? You obviously don't look like you want to."

"Yeah, well, you can tell me if you want, but you looked upset enough already when I just mentioned it. I don't want to make you panic again, so I'm not going to ask."

Janus remained frozen for a moment, then he smiled, and decided to let the nightmare go, settling deeper into the shared embrace of Virgil and the water.

He and Janus stayed in the water together for a long time, switching between massaging and cuddling, long enough for the water to get uncomfortably cool eventually.

So long, in fact, that as they stepped out of the tub, they heard a knock at the door, and Logan's unmistakable composed voice going: "Hello? Is someone there?"

"Yes!" Virgil replied, quickly grabbing towels for the both of them to get covered with.

"Virgil? This is uncharacteristically early for you, is something the matter?"

"I... Yes… I mean no? I, uh, I'm helping Janus."

"Janus?" Janus could have sworn he heard Logan frown from behind the door. "May I come in?"

"Uuuh…?" Virgil went, obviously unsure of what to do in the moment. Janus just smiled tiredly and nodded. "Sure?"

The door opened. Logan stepped inside and closed it again. "Very well. Now," he added, turning around to give them both a look where concern was trying to emerge behind the calm façade, "what seems to be the problem?"

Janus just let Virgil explain the situation to Logan, focusing on looking more alert than he actually was. He didn't like being this vulnerable, even with his fellow sides whom he had started trusting. So despite the lack of layers to cover his half-scaled body, he tried his best to smile and seem unperturbed.

Perhaps he didn't do as good a job as he would have liked, because Logan kept looking at him like he was a sick student. "It is to my understanding that you did not get much sleep. May I advise you take a nap this morning, perhaps after some breakfast?"

"I will not do that, thank you Logan," Janus said with his tired smile.

Logan nodded and left, closing the door to let the other two get dressed.

Janus felt immediately better when he was once again covered by his pajamas and dark robe, and to be frank so did Virgil once reunited with his hoodie. But neither regretted this time in the bath together.

"Alright, let's follow the doctor's orders," Virgil joked, leading Janus out and down the stairs.

Janus let him happily. His headache was now but a memory and the nightmare a dark shadow at the back of his mind that was slowly fading. He felt clean, relaxed, and warm in the right way, unlike before. And Virgil was holding his hand gently, like he was a delicate lady, which although a surprise wasn't unappreciated.

As they came down the stairs, Janus realized that everyone was up already. And that everyone looked up at them as they approached the table where two plates had already been put down for them. Roman pulled their chairs for them, and Remus tackle-hugged Janus before he had a chance to sit, which made him laugh internally, although he tried not to show anything.

"Ugh, Remus, be careful!"

Remus just stuck his tongue out at his brother and then licked Janus's cheek before letting him go. Janus pretended to be unfazed as he sat, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

Then Patton arrived, carrying a pan full of fried eggs and bacon, Logan in toe with some fruit and juice.

"Egg-cellent, you're here!" Patton said, smiling, as he dropped two eggs into Janus's plate, and then two more in Virgil's, before serving the others.

"What's all this for?" Janus almost laughed, incredulous.

"For you, of course, sleepy snake," Roman chimed in, grabbing the reddest apple in the basket. "Logan told us about your struggle last night."

"And nutrition is crucial to a proper recovery," Logan nodded.

As he finished serving everyone, Patton leaned over and placed a kiss on Janus's forehead, giggling at the dumbfounded face he made. "If you're going to react like that each time we want to take care of you, we might need to do it more often."

Janus didn't reply. He just felt happiness welling up inside of him as the others slowly started eating and talking and bickering as usual, but always keeping an eye on him, making sure he was okay. Far ago was the time when he had to pretend like he was in control all the time.

A bubble of trust suddenly popped up his throat into his mouth and he said, a little surprised at himself: "I'd like to tell you about my nightmare."

#sanders sides #fanfiction #anxceit #hurt/comfort #tw nightmares

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myhockeyworld87 · 5 years ago

Text

Nervous Regrets - Tyler Seguin - Part 33

Word Count: 2,479

POV: Tyler

Warnings: None this is complete fluff

Nervous Regrets Masterlist

TYLER'S POV

You tip-toed into the house, partly in case Jace was asleep and the other part hoping that your wife was. After the scene you made earlier about not wanting to leave the house, you had a feeling she'd still be awake even if she had to keep her eyes open with toothpicks. Though the whole drive home after your interview, you prayed she would be fast asleep, for you knew she was going to kill you the moment you walked through the door.

As you snuck in the house, you noticed that the television wasn't on, so maybe you did luck out and she was sleeping. Gerry came to greet you and you patted the dog on the head before making your way through the house. She was just walking out of your bedroom, baby monitor in hand, and a scowl on her face. You tried to head her off before, she could start yelling at you. "I know, I fucked up. I'm sorry." She still wasn't smiling even after you apologized. "Baby, you don't know how sorry I am. I know I screwed up. I'm gonna make it right though." You reached for her and she went easily into your arms, so she couldn't be too mad.

"I can't believe you just let it slip that we're married." She pressed her forehead into your chest, and you leaned down and kissed her head. "I had to put my phone on silent, so it wouldn't wake up Jace." You winced, before pulling her back, so you could look her in the face.

"I'm so sorry, babe. How is my lil man doing? Did he like watching his daddy play?"

"Yeah, he loved watching you. Though he hates the way I celebrate when you score." You laughed. "I guess I got a little too excited and maybe a hair bit too loud…and well he started crying."

"Great, you're going to make him hate when I score." She swatted playfully at your chest. "Ouch."

"Oh, stop that didn't hurt, and at least I didn't tell the world we secretly got married."

"Ok, now that did hurt. I didn't do it on purpose." You maneuvered her hips, and lead her over the couch to sit down. "So who all have you ignored so far."

"Well, I did take Jenna's call, but I let the one from Anna, Liv, and my brother Sean go to voicemail." She rubbed the bridge of her nose; a telltale sign she had a headache coming on. You scooted her so that you could massage her shoulders, it was the least you could do, considering how bad you'd fucked up.

"I've had both my sisters and Brett, though I'm not sure if he was calling as a friend or for management." You could feel some of her tension melt the longer your fingers kneaded into her neck. "Any ideas on how we want to handle this?"

"Well, I think we start by telling our families the truth…and maybe groveling a little bit. I'm thinking cute pictures of Jace would help as well."

"Are you using our child to get out of trouble?"

"It sounds bad when you put it that way."

You kissed her neck, before answering back. "Not if it gets us out of the doghouse." She leaned back into your chest then. You could tell she was tired. "How long has Jace been sleeping?"

"Not long. I just put him down a few minutes before you walked in."

"We should probably get some sleep than before he has us up in a few hours." Although, the two of you literally just sat down; you figured if you didn't move now, you'd both end up sleeping on the couch until Jace woke you.

"You're probably right." She eased off the couch, still moving gingerly from all she endured.

When you walked into the bedroom, you headed straight for Jace's bassinet, which was close to your bed. Cash was sleeping on one side and Marshall on the other, while Gerry stayed at your side. You peered down at your sleeping son, who looked so peaceful, and your heart swelled with love. "Hi bud, daddy missed you." Leaning down you placed a soft kiss on his forehead, careful not to wake him. He stirred a bit but continued to sleep.

It didn't take either you or (Y/N) long to get ready for bed. She moved the bassinet closer to her side, before crawling in under the covers. You scooted behind as close as you could get so the two of you could gaze at Jace for a few minutes longer, before falling asleep. It was about four hours later that you were woken up by his soft little cries. (Y/N) got up and quickly scooped Jace up, knowing that he was probably hungry and needed to be changed. You made a move to help her. "It's ok Ty. I got him. Go back to sleep."

It amazed that you that after everything she went through, with Jace's crazy birth, that in just a couple days, (Y/N) made taking care of him seem so easy, as if she'd been doing this for years. She scooted up against the headboard and began to nurse Jace, while you laid there in awe watching your wife and child. You literally had everything you ever wanted right in this room right now, and while you may have screwed up tonight; you had a feeling that if you told both your families this everything would be fine. You nuzzled into her hip and her free hand stroked your hair while Jace fed.

You never heard or felt her get up and change the baby or put him back down, until sometime in the morning when the light started to peer through the blinds. (Y/N) was sleeping peacefully, so you carefully extracted yourself out of the bed and went to check on your newborn son; who was wide awake in his bassinet just looking around. Before he could cry and wake his mama up, you picked him up and headed out to the kitchen, closing the door to let your wife sleep. Jace fit so easy in the crook of your one arm as you marveled at how tiny your little guy was. "Hey bud, are you gonna hang with me for a while so mommy can sleep?" You stroked his little hand and he grasped your finger. "I'll take that as a yes."

Grabbing a juice out of the fridge, you plopped down on the couch and turned the tv on, putting it on mute. You turned the station to the NHL network so that you could catch up on scores from the night before. "Daddy plays the Blues tomorrow night and it looks like they won last night. So, we say boo to that." Jace frowned as if understood and didn't want the Blues to win either. "Don't worry, we're going beat them, just for you."

The two of you finished watching all the scores before they re-aired On The Fly, from the night before. It was about ten minutes into the show when they started to show the highlights from the Stars game. "Watch this here Jace, this is where I scored a goal just for you bud." They continued to show the rest of the goals. "Oh, watch Uncle Chubbs check Josi right there. Daddy should've gone glove side on that one there. I'll teach you that when you get bigger. You're going to have a wicked slap shot?" He made a little cooing noise as if he would and you leaned down and kissed his precious head.

"Is daddy filling your head with hockey already?" (Y/N) was standing in the archway just watching the two of you.

"We're just watching some highlights and I may have mentioned a few things he's going to learn." You motioned for her to come and sit beside you, so you could cuddle both your babies. Her hands immediately went to Jace, just caressing his sweet little face. "Don't worry, I know it won't be for a while."

"Thank goodness for that." She said talking to the baby and not you. "You're just still way too little to even to think about that huh?" Jace's eyes looked around and then fixated on (Y/N), after hearing his mom's voice. She leaned against you, and his gaze followed her. "You didn't have to let me sleep, but thanks."

"Babe, you need your rest. You've been through a lot, besides Jace wasn't fussy; so we were just having some father-son bonding." You could feel her smile into your chest and you leaned down and kissed her head.

"You know we still have to deal with the fallout from last night." She didn't need to remind you. You were sure by now there were messages on your phone from your family, though you'd left it on the charger in the bedroom when you'd come out here with Jace. "I'm honestly surprised my parents haven't called." She was scrolling through her phone. "Should we just get this over with?"

"No time like the present."

She dialed her parent's house, even though it was still a little early in the morning. "Hey sweetheart, how's my new grandson?" Her mom asked through the speakerphone.

"He's an angel. Ty and I are just sitting on the couch with him now. Is dad there?"

"Yeah hold on and I'll get him." It didn't take more than a minute until (Y/N)'s dad was on the phone.

"Hey, guys, everything good up there?"

"Hi Dad, yeah we're great." (Y/N) answered them. "Umm…we just had to call and talk to you about something…well before you hear it someplace else."

Neither of her parents reacted, which you didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad one. "There's no easy way to say this," you spoke up since it was your blunder, to begin with. "(Y/N) and I got married, the first of the year." You paused for a second, but when they still didn't say anything you decided to go on. "It was really my idea. I wanted Jace to be born with both his parents having the same last name. I know it sounds stupid because we're engaged and stuff. I just never want him to question that his parents always wanted him. You know?"

Your heart was beating almost as fast as when you'd asked them for (Y/N)'s hand in marriage. Thankfully (Y/N) took over the conversation. "We hope you guys aren't upset, it was completely spur of the moment and just us; and well Jamie and Jenna. They were our witnesses. We still want the big wedding with everyone this summer, this was just something that we wanted to do for us…and well Jace. You're not mad, are you?"

"Oh sweetheart, we're not mad." (Y/N)'s dad answered immediately.

"Honestly, we kind of figured you wouldn't wait." Her mom added.

"Really?" You both said at the same time.

"Sweetie, it's obvious you two are in love, and it only stands to reason you wouldn't want to wait." (Y/N)'s mom paused but then continued. "I mean it would've been nice to be invited." Both you and (Y/N) winced. "But at the same time, we understand."

"As long as I still get to walk you down the aisle, there's no hard feelings."

"Oh dad, of course, you can. I want that more than anything." (Y/N) told him. The conversation went on for several minutes and they planned a time when they could come and see Jace. As soon as you hung up with her parents, it was time to face the music with your mom.

"Hey mom, how's it going?" you asked as she picked up the phone.

"I'm not sure how to answer that Tyler, my phone has been ringing off the hook with a ton of questions, and I don't have any answers." You could hear a bit of irritation in her voice.

"So, I guess you've heard the news then."

"I heard you told reporters you were married if that's what you're referring to. But what I want to know is if this is like that Valentine's Day joke you pulled on me a few years ago." (Y/N) placed a comforting hand on your knee, as she decided to answer your mom for you.

"It's no joke Jackie, we're really married." She then explained the reasoning to your mom just as she had to her parents. "I hope you're not too upset with us?"

Your mom sighed softly into the phone. "Well, it's kind of hard to be when you were only doing what's best for my grandson."

"We still want the big wedding in the summer." You assured her. "In fact, I'm sure you girls will be planning it when you get here in a couple days."

"Oh, I'm sure we will be when I'm not holding that precious little boy. How is he doing?"

"He's so amazing mom. Like, I don't want to take my eyes off of him." You looked down at Jace who had fallen asleep in your arms. "He's the best thing that ever happened to me, mom. Well besides (Y/N) that is." (Y/N) smiled, then leaned over and kissed your cheek.

"Oh honey, you sound so happy." You could hear her get choked up a bit. "I can't wait to meet little Jace."

"We can't wait for you to get here, Jackie." (Y/N) added. "Jace can't wait to meet his Grandma."

"Oh, I can't wait to squeeze him."

"Not too hard mom." You told her with a laugh.

"Don't you start with me Tyler, you're still on my shit list."

"Ouch, and how come (Y/N)'s not."

"Hey don't throw me under the bus Seguin." (Y/N) said as she swatted at your arm, causing Jace to wiggle; so you threw her a look that said 'don't wake the baby.'

"(Y/N)'s not in trouble, she gave birth to my grandson." Your wife just stuck her tongue out at you. "But we can talk about it when I get there. Now, go take care that sweet little boy, and I'll see you three soon."

"Will do. Love you, mom."

"Love you all. Kiss that little boy for me." With that, she hung up the phone.

"Well, that went better than I expected." You told (Y/N).

"I have a feeling this little guy right here helped out a lot." Her hand went to Jace and you could tell she was itching to hold him, though if you were being honest; you weren't quite ready to give him up just yet. So instead, you wrapped your free arm around your wife and pulled her close. You'd never felt so happy in your entire life, then you did at that moment holding everything that you loved the most in your arms.

#Nervous Regrets Series #tyler seguin #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction

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takonei · 5 years ago

Text

Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 5, daily life (Part 1)

Note of the author: Back to the shitshow, my dudes

I’m very sorry for the long wait! However this chapter is twice as long as a normal daily life chapter. Have fun with this 13k word long chapter lol

Chapter 5: An oath to one’s lost humanity - Daily life

...

"Who..."

...

"Who am I...?"

...

Day 17 since the beginning of the game.

4:40 AM.

Shuichi stared at the ceiling of his room, laying on his bed.

He almost hasn't slept at all.

Each time he tried to close his eyes, each time he tried to sleep, it was a different vision haunting his mind.

The first was back at the warehouse. Then Himiko's corpse. Then the exisal blasting Tsumugi. Then the warehouse again. Then Korekiyo's execution.

Now he was afraid to even close his eyes.

The ceiling was perhaps the most comforting vision he had in hours.

...

He looked at the clock in his room.

At least this one didn't make any sound.

He bitterly chuckled at the thought. Every single insignificant thing was starting to haunt him in some way as this game went on and on.

The violinist sat up, his head spinning from the tiredness.

But he still had to gain back enough energy for the day. They were going to explore the new labs, the new places, and more importantly, they had to investigate Keebo's death.

... But perhaps he could take a walk outside. He would not be able to close his eyes even if he tried to. Not now, at least.

After a long shower, he got dressed up. However, he didn't feel like putting on his vest and tie. Just the shirt and pants would be enough.

Looking at the window, he could see the first rays of sunlight illuminating the sky.

At least that was better than walking in the dark of the night.

Shuichi gently pushed the door of his room. The dormitories were silent. Surprisingly, the food, the medical supplies, and the cutlery they had brought disappeared. Monokuma must have brought them back.

At least they wouldn't have to do it themselves.

Speaking of the motive, he hadn't seen the sanzu key in his room either. At least that meant the motive was truly over.

Although he would have preferred Monokuma not to go in his room for this.

He quietly got out of the building and closed the door.

It felt nice to walk without worrying about being impaled by a spear nor having to run for his life.

Shuichi took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh breeze.

But after he took the first few steps, his eyes landed on the wisterias.

Something was on the pergola. Or rather, someone.

Upon closer inspection, he realized Kirumi was sitting on top of the structure.

... Perhaps she had trouble sleeping as well. Maybe he could try to talk to her.

He approached the place, and the mercenary turned around to look at him.

"Oh. You're awake as well."

Shuichi blinked. "How... did you get up there?"

She huffed, although she didn't look mad. "You underestimate me, Shuichi. I am a mercenary. I can easily climb this."

If she was in her normal outfit, then sure, but... She was clearly in her pajamas -simple grey shorts, a loose white top, and a black chest band- and bare feet.

"... Do you want me to help you get up?" she asked him.

He glanced away. "That looks high, though..."

She pointed at a small tree next to one of the pillars. "If you climb this, I'll be able to reach you."

"No, it's just..."

He was afraid of heights. But perhaps he could try to surpass this fear.

Even though Kiyo had told him that no matter what, he was not useless nor not enough, he could still try.

He approached the tree to climb it. It wasn't that hard, actually. When he managed to get to the highest point possible, Kirumi extended her hand.

After he managed to grab it, she helped him get on the wooden planks.

Even though it wasn't the most comfortable here, it was still a nice view.

Kirumi sat back on one of the planks. "There's more than enough space. I don't think this structure is going to break that easily."

The two made themselves as comfortable as they could.

He noticed she had eyebags -smaller than his, but still here anyway-, but more importantly, he noticed the white patch on her shoulder.

He forgot about her injury.

"Wait- your shoulder! Was it okay for you to help me?"

She waved a hand. "It's fine. The wound healed enough not to be dangerous for me anymore."

...

The sun was slowly rising. Perhaps this wasn't as bad as he expected it to be.

(BGM)

The two stared at the horizon for a while, in silence.

It was relaxing, in some way. Definitely more than staying in his room in the dark, haunted by the visions of the killing game.

At least, he wasn't alone right now. He had Kirumi at his side.

...

"How long have you been here anyway?" Shuichi broke the silence.

She hummed. "I would say 30 minutes."

About the same time he decided to get out of bed, then.

"Aren't you cold?"

"Not that much. It doesn't bother me."

He was bad at small talk, wasn't he?

But perhaps silence was great too.

...

"How are you holding up? It is unusual for you to be up this early." she asked.

He perked up. "I... I couldn't sleep. I kept getting nightmares. What about you?"

She stayed silent for a moment. "... I just had trouble sleeping. I don't get nightmares, but when I get in those types of situations, where anyone could potentially harm me, I tend to stay on guard. It's more of a natural reaction for me at this point."

He nodded.

"You say you keep getting nightmares. Is there something on your mind?" she slightly turned to him.

It was odd for her to say that. But then again, she did tell him he should talk to people if he had worries back after the third trial.

The deaths were still lingering on his mind but something else was making him more uncomfortable.

Or rather, someone.

"This... isn't worth the trouble, don't worry."

She looked at him, a hint of regret on her face. "... I am not Kiyo, I am no therapist and I probably am the last person here to ask for advice but... If you get nightmares from this, perhaps it would be better to talk about it with someone."

Shuichi pondered.

Kirumi was a mercenary. She had experience in killing and was used to dangerous situations. Even though she claims not to be the best person to talk to, perhaps she would be, considering the situation.

"It's... About Rantaro."

He didn't know if to talk about the incident in the warehouse would be a good idea but he had kept the secret for too long. And with his attitude getting stranger and stranger, his worry could only grow.

"About the trial?"

He shook his head. "No, it's something that happened before."

She raised an eyebrow.

"I think it was two days ago, the day we learned about Kaito's leg. We were in the same group for the afternoon locks, I got mine alone since you went back to the dorms because of your injury. I wanted to help Ryoma by getting some tools to help."

She slightly tilted her head to the side. "Didn't you say they were all organized in boxes and you didn't want to disturb it?"

Shit. He forgot about that part.

He hadn't checked anything because of the message on the ground and Rantaro going to get it.

Perhaps he should keep this part to himself.

"Oh, it's just... I thought that by the time I went back, Ryoma or Rantaro would be here..." he lied.

Kirumi paused for a moment. "I see."

"Well... When I went back to the warehouse, I saw Rantaro rummaging through one of the boxes, and when I approached him to ask what I could take, he..."

Shuichi trailed off, the memory of the moment very clear in his mind.

He approached his hand to his neck. "He... He pinned me to the ground without a warning and almost sliced my throat with a scalpel."

She looked at him with wide eyes. "... I wanted to say I was surprised but somehow... I'm not. Not after the last trial."

He looked at her. "Really?"

She paused. "Considering what he probably went through during his missions, I am not surprised. We tend to forget it because he makes it look like it doesn't affect him but I doubt that is really the case."

Shuichi thought about everything that happened the day before. How mad he was at Ryoma, and how mad he was at himself for failing Tsumugi.

Even when they stepped into his lab during the investigation.

The feeling of guilt on his face was stronger than he ever saw him feel- if he didn't count the trial.

"The more I think about it, the more I'm starting to see the big picture."

The violinist turned to her.

"In some way, we can consider this killing game a war, Rantaro said so himself. And thus he started acting like it was his duty to save each and every one of us like we were crewmates."

"He probably thought this would be easier than his usual missions, but it turned out not to be the case."

"By seeing us die one by one, I have a feeling he started to think he was failing us. And that probably weighs a lot on his mind."

She narrowed her eyes. "But that much? It feels odd. I don't think anyone would react that strongly without having experienced something similar in the past."

Shuichi thought about the notebook Korekiyo had given him. Perhaps he could try to see if he talked to him about it.

"But of course that doesn't excuse what he almost did to you. Has he apologized?"

He nodded. "Briefly... But we never spoke of this again."

She hummed. "... I see. While I admit I am starting to get worried about him, perhaps we should let Ryoma talk to him first."

Even though that moment still flashed in his mind... Deep down he felt the same. His attitude in the trial clearly proved something was wrong, and he didn't want to demonize him before hearing the full story.

Was he even going to hear it?

... He should change the subject. The more he thought about this, the bigger the headache got.

"Hey, Kirumi..."

She slightly turned to him.

"What do you think of... You know... Keebo's death?"

She pondered for a moment. "I was about to say that Monokuma giving the wrong judgment was odd but... Is it?"

They all said Monokuma was adamant about the rules but the more they went through those trials, the less it was the case. He was pretty sure the only reason Kiyo was the blackened was so he could have a trial to watch.

And he didn't hesitate to render a wrong judgment and declared Kaito guilty.

What were even the rules of this game?

It didn't feel like an organized killing game.

But a chaotic massacre he cheated at every single instance.

He sighed. "I'm just glad Kaito wasn't executed..."

She stayed silent for a moment. "We should wait until everyone is in a proper mental and physical state to investigate. If the culprit is whoever keeps up trapped here, we can't afford any mistakes."

Shuichi nodded. He himself needed some good rest.

A rest he couldn't get even if he tried.

He hoped things would not be too disastrous today. He did not have the energy nor the will to deal with Monokuma.

Kirumi stood up. "I'll go to Rantaro's lab to search for a replacement for my bandage. This one is getting old and I do not wish to disturb Rantaro for this."

Shuichi looked down. How will he even get off?

He observed Kirumi walking on the wooden planks to reach for the tree and climbed down like it was nothing.

"Do you need some help?"

He carefully approached the same tree she used. "I'll... try..."

He took a deep breath and started climbing down.

The tree wasn't that stable but he somehow managed to get down.

He brushed the dust off his pants. "I'm good."

She smiled. "Let's go, then."

"W-Wait..."

He blinked. "Are you really planning to go bare feet?"

She looked down, almost as if she forgot she wasn't wearing any shoes. "I'll be fine."

"At least put some slippers on!"

Seeing the look on his face, Kirumi sighed. "If you insist."

The two went back to the dorms, Shuichi waiting outside. A few minutes later, the mercenary came back with a pair of plain black slippers.

"Satisfied?"

"Yes."

The two made their way to the main building. It felt nice to walk around carefreely, although the circumstances were not the best.

But the moment they stepped foot inside the building, they saw it.

On the ground was the red monokub, his head smashed to pieces.

... This was not what Shuichi wanted to see right now.

"Boohoo! My sweet... What was his name, again?" a robotic voice appeared from behind.

The two glared at him, not saying anything. The tired eyes told a lot more than they needed to say.

"Still not warming up to them, aren't ya? Show some empathy!"

Kirumi continued her way, not bothering to look at him. "I'll show empathy when you stop making us kill each other for your own entertainment."

Shuichi followed her, not wanting any more business with Monokuma.

"How rude!" he yelled, then tapped his cheek. "Perhaps I should add a rule that it should be mandatory to grieve for my sweet monokubs..."

However, Shuichi wasn't listening anymore. He simply made his way to the stairs.

Once they were on the second floor, Kirumi sighed. "I can't stand this bear anymore. Good thing I don't have a weapon on me right now."

"Agreed."

They made their way to the third floor, approaching the medic's lab. They noticed the door was slightly open.

They quickly glanced at each other. Considering the state it was in yesterday, Monokuma probably had to repair it but shouldn't he leave the door closed?

The two hesitantly went in. Shuichi's eyes immediately widened.

Even though the lab was back to the state it was in before yesterday, someone definitely went in here.

There were several shattered bottles on the floor, liquid staining the ground and pills scattered around. There was also an empty broken plastic cup on the table near the sink. But what made him shiver were the few specks of dried blood on the floor.

It was like someone rushed in here to take what they wanted without bothering to clean.

Kirumi put a knee down to take a look at the bottles and the pills. "... Those are painkillers. It's written on the etiquette." she started regrouping them.

Shuichi approached the sink. The cup was one of those single-use white plastic ones you could easily break by slamming them on a table.

But considering its state, it was safe to say the person smashed it with their hand alone.

"... What happened here?" he muttered with a shaky voice.

She shook her head. "I don't know, Shuichi. I really don't."

She stood back up, a worrying amount of pills in her hand and an empty bottle in the other.

Her eyes turned to the faint bloodstain on the ground.

"I feel like whoever went in there clearly doesn't fear-"

She abruptly stopped.

Shuichi blinked, seeing her expression growing more worried by the second.

She looked around one more time.

"Is something wrong?"

"I was about to say that whoever went in this lab clearly doesn't fear Rantaro but... We cannot exclude the possibility Rantaro went in there himself."

The violinist perked up. "You think Rantaro did this??"

"I don't know, I just said we shouldn't exclude the possibility."

The two looked around the messy room. "... This is something we're going to keep to ourselves for now if we want answers."

They started cleaning up the room in silence. It's not like they had much to do after all.

Cleaning up a medical lab at 5:30 in the morning was not something Shuichi ever expected to do.

It felt both relaxing and very unsettling. They didn't know who went in here, desperately looking for painkillers, also leaving blood on the floor and they were here cleaning up the mess.

At least it was better than having nightmares, Shuichi thought.

...

Once they were done, Shuichi let out a sigh. "How are we even going to investigate this?"

She pondered for a moment. "For now let's just wait for everyone to wake up."

Kirumi took the bandage she was supposed to get, gave one last look at the now clean room, and left with Shuichi.

The walk back to the dorms was silent for some time.

"... What do you plan on doing, now?"

Shuichi looked at his Monopad. 6:00 AM. The sun was still slowly rising in the distance. "I don't know. I don't feel like going back to sleep. Perhaps I'll play some violin in my lab."

As if on cue, the door of the dormitories opened before they could reach for the handle. And out came... Kaito?

He looked as tired as them. But what surprised Shuichi was the absence of his belt-chain and the lack of hair gel. He instead left his hair into a low ponytail.

They stared at each other for a moment.

"So... You guys are awake too?"

"For about two hours for me." Kirumi replied.

"I would say an hour and a half..." Shuichi muttered.

There was an uncomfortable silence between them.

"Wait, were you guys planning to go back to sleep?" the biker went out of the way to let them pass. "Shit, sorry."

The mercenary waved a hand. "I was mostly planning to take a shower. I don't think I'll be able to go back to sleep at this point."

"Me neither..."

"Oh."

Kirumi entered the dorms building. "... Now that I think about it, there is something I would like to ask you, Kaito."

He raised an eyebrow. "Me?"

"May I try your jacket on for a moment, please?"

He almost jumped. "H-Huh?"

She sighed. "Do not take this the wrong way, please. I just want to check something."

He took it off, a bit unsure, but gave it to Kirumi. She put it on and it fit her surprisingly well. "That'll do."

"Hey, that's my jacket! If you really want it, I can fetch you another considering I got about ten of them in my room!"

"That's what I was planning to ask you, actually."

"What?"

She took off the jacket. "You see, everyone knows my real talent at this point. Dressing up as a maid isn't going to help me much. Which is why I wanted to wear something a bit more comfortable."

Oh.

"But isn't there a rule we have to wear uniforms or something?" Kaito asked.

"I already checked. It isn't mandatory."

Shuichi had been wearing the same uniform since the beginning. Perhaps he could try to change it a little as well.

... And even if Monokuma wanted them to wear their uniforms properly, it would feel good to mildly inconvenience him.

"So... Should I fetch one of my jackets for you?"

"Do you have other colors or are they all the same?"

He thought for a moment. "I think I have dark purple and black. You wanna check?"

She shrugged. "If it doesn't bother you."

The three headed to the biker's room. "Just give me a sec-"

He entered the room and closed the door behind him. A few minutes later he reopened it. "Sorry, I tried to at least clean up a little."

"It's fine."

Kaito's room was a bit messy and it was easy to tell he hastily tried to make it look nicer. But that's the thought that counts.

He opened the closet to reveal a bunch of the same jacket in several hues from purple to black.

He gave a black one to Kirumi, who put it on. "It has its charm. Do you mind if I borrow it?"

The biker waved a hand. "It's just a jacket, don't sweat it. Besides I wear the purple ones, not the black ones."

She smiled. "Thank you. I'll make sure not to ruin it."

They left the room and Kirumi started heading back to hers, jacket in hand. "What are you two planning to do?"

Shuichi shrugged. "I did say I would play the violin but since Kaito's there too then perhaps we'll do something else."

He thought for a moment. "Card games? We can take one and go to the tables in front of the dining hall."

That sounded nicer than whatever he had planned. "Sure! You'll join us later, right?"

She nodded. "Alright."

The two boys left the dorms, heading to the main building.

Considering how Kaito took painkillers for his phantom pains, perhaps he was the one who went to Rantaro's lab last night.

He could try to subtly ask him.

"How is your leg? You did mention having phantom pains, right?"

He shrugged. "I did have my usual dose this morning. But I can't exactly predict when I'll be limping like a freakin' pirate."

... Kaito didn't look like he was lying. Besides, even if he had phantom pains, that didn't explain the blood.

Better luck next time.

After getting the cards, the two headed back outside.

He started shuffling the cards. "Same game as ever?"

Shuichi looked down. "To be honest I'm not exactly in the mood to think..."

The biker thought for a moment. "War it is, then."

The violinist frowned, already not liking the name. "War?"

His friend blinked. "Please tell me you at least know this game."

"Uh..."

Kaito sighed. "Just go along with me. It's pretty simple."

The two played this game for a while. It was mostly luck-based. Put a card in front of you and see which one is the strongest.

At least this brought him back a faint smile.

Between two rounds, Shuichi noticed Kaito staring at him.

"Is something wrong?"

"What were you two even doing outside at 5 in the morning?"

... He really hoped he didn't take this the wrong way.

"I uh... I couldn't sleep and I saw her outside the dorms so I joined her."

He looked skeptical. "Yeah, sure."

Shuichi didn't know what to say. He couldn't win, could he?

The biker scoffed. "Can you believe it? We got a freakin' mercenary in our group. I still have trouble believing that. How many has she killed?"

That was not a question Shuichi wanted to think about. "I don't know... But she never showed any sign of hostility against any of us."

"Yeah, but still..."

It's true that despite her talent, they had included her quite quickly in the group. Was Kaito hinting at the fact that they shouldn't have?

"Do you... have a problem with her?"

"Nah it's just..." he scratched his neck. "How do I put it."

"It feels weird to say we accepted a killer among our group."

He bitterly chuckled. "Not that I've got room to talk. For a while, I thought I had killed Keebo."

Was it the context of the killing game that made them act this way? Surely he wouldn't have approached her if there were more than seven of them.

"But then again... Almost everyone here is guilty of something, huh..."

... Not himself, though. But perhaps that wasn't the best thing to say.

"Perhaps for now... It's for the best." he muttered.

"I guess you're right..." Kaito replied.

They played in silence for some time before the biker perked his head up. "Hm?"

Shuichi looked behind him. Kirumi approached them, Kokichi accompanying her.

She was wearing her usual skirt, boots, necklace, and pair of tights, but instead of her maid uniform, she had put on a white shirt and Kaito's black leather jacket. She almost looked like a biker herself, now.

As for Kokichi, he was wearing the same outfit as usual except for the fact that...

... He wasn't wearing the hood of his jacket.

He had never seen his full head before. It was always covered by his hoodie. He never actually knew why he covered his face in the first place.

"Oh, Kokichi!"

The boy slightly jumped. "Y-Yeah I... I wanted to try to take it off for once... But if it bothers you I can put it back-"

Kaito shook his head. "No, that's great! It's just rare to see your face in its entirety."

He gripped the base of his hood. "T-Thanks..."

There was still a lot of effort to make, but it was clear he was trying his best.

Shuichi slightly moved to the side to let one of them sit down, and Kaito doing the same.

Kirumi moved next to the violinist, and Kokichi next to the biker.

"What were you two playing?"

Kaito shrugged. "A game of war, but since it's a 2-person game we'll switch to something else, I guess."

Kokichi bitterly chuckled, eyeing him. "You don't like luck-based games with me, don't you?"

He narrowed his eyes at him. "Listen, I just want a fair game. Got it?"

Shuichi giggled, remembering the last time they played cards with him.

"I am not familiar with any card games, unfortunately. What do you suggest?" Kirumi asked.

Kaito pondered, looking at the three. "Kemps is usually by six but it's doable by four."

Kokichi's eyes widened. "You mean the game by teams of two?"

"You got me! Wait, where did you learn that?"

He sighed. "When the only source of entertainment you have in an orphanage is a card deck with three missing cards, you tend to learn every single game you could possibly play."

"Oh... Sorry..."

"That and you learn how to scam people."

...

Shuichi froze. "S-Scamming people?"

He looked at him, unimpressed. "How did you think we managed to get money?"

"I-I don't know! I just didn't know how you did it!"

Kaito laughed. "Come on! Teach-

"No." he interrupted him. "I am not teaching any of you how to do scams. I can do a demonstration, but I am not teaching you how to do illegal things."

Right... The karma could still impact them.

Kirumi snickered. "I want to see if I manage to get the trick."

Kokichi thought for a moment. "It should be fine if it's just a demonstration. But I haven't done this in a long time, though. I'm still going to need an accomplice."

Kirumi raised an eyebrow. "An accomplice, huh?"

He nodded. "We always did this by two."

"I can be the accomplice!" Kaito exclaimed.

Kokichi smiled. "Very well! Give us a moment, alright?"

The two left.

Kokichi was explaining everything to Kaito in the distance when Kirumi tapped Shuichi's shoulder. He turned around.

"I do not think Kokichi's the one who went to Rantaro's lab. I tried to ask him some things before we came here and I do not think that is the case."

He shook his head. "I tried to ask Kaito if he had phantom pains last night and he said no... He didn't look like he was lying."

She hummed. "... So it's either Miu, Ryoma, or Rantaro."

The mercenary eyed him. "Or you if you lied to me."

Shuichi jumped. "I-I didn't, I swear!"

At that moment, she looked behind him. "... We'll talk about that later."

The two other boys came back.

He would have to talk to Kirumi as well.

After all, there is a possibility she lied to him.

... But that didn't make any sense for her to take painkillers, so he gave up on the idea.

Kokichi took the card deck and started shuffling. His movements were precise, it was almost hypnotizing.

He spread the cards and presented them to Kirumi. "Choose five."

The mercenary looked at the cards and did as told.

"Place them in front of you."

He eyed Kaito, who was slightly behind Kirumi. The mercenary continued paying attention to Kokichi.

"Now choose one and look at it."

He closed his eyes, letting her choose.

She thought for a moment, then picked one of them. It was the queen of spades. She placed it back where it was. "Done."

He took back the five cards with a swift hand movement and grouped them. "I may be taking these cards but I don't have a slight clue what any of these are."

He took the rest of the deck and spread it in front of him, glancing at the others. "And even if I managed to get a look at the rest of the deck, there's no way I would guess that quickly which cards are missing." Kirumi noticed he glanced at Kaito a bit too much, side-eyeing him as well.

He grouped back the rest of the deck and placed it aside.

He looked at the cards for a moment.

"From my sharp ears, I heard you took a card that was on my left, so let's take off this one."

"From my gloved hands, I sensed a lack of touch on this one."

"From my blind eyes, I saw that those two were not the chosen ones."

"And from the eyes of the world..." He pointed at the card in the middle. "... I foresaw a queen of spades."

He turned the card around to reveal the one Kirumi chose.

Shuichi's eyes widened. "Woah.."

Kirumi pondered. "We know Kaito is an accomplice, so I'm guessing he signed something to you."

The violinist looked at the biker. "I saw he was eyeing on his left and doing some hand gestures but... I didn't see what it meant."

Kokichi laughed, along with Kaito. "This was always a challenge not to laugh when I was doing this."

Shuichi frowned. "What do you mean? I didn't see anything?"

Kirumi sighed. "And my back was turned to him. My vision is limited."

"Well, you see..." Kokichi grouped back the cards. "Kaito never signed anything to me."

Shuichi perked up. "Huh?"

The biker laughed. "Man, I didn't think your thing would work! Seriously, how did you invent this?"

"Alright, I'll explain the trick." Kokichi said.

"The goal is to make sure the audience thinks you have an accomplice. Someone who makes gestures odd enough to get the attention. And with only half the attention focused on me, I can do a lot more." He explained.

"While you were focused on Kaito, I did have the time to check which card was yours."

Shuichi frowned. "Wait, really? She still had her attention on you though..."

"You're right, I barely had time to check a second time since Kirumi was mainly focused on me. But you're forgetting one thing."

He moved away the hair covering his left eye. "I can see through here. When I asked her to choose a card, I had only one eye closed."

... Was that it? Was it that simple?

Kirumi stared at him for a moment. "... I can't believe I was fooled by a trick that stupid."

Kokichi chuckled. "It's actually more interesting in the long run since most people tried to guess the trick. They tried to position themselves in front of a supposed accomplice, but it never did anything. Because there was never an accomplice in the first place."

That was actually a smart trick. Who knows how many people got scammed like this.

After that, Kaito taught them the game they were supposed to play. It ended up being Kokichi and Shuichi versus the other two.

They played like that for quite some time. Perhaps a part of them wanted them to be kids again. To forget. To free their minds. To live normally.

But all of this got interrupted when the morning announcement played, with Monokuma doing his usual speech.

"I didn't realize we played that long..." Shuichi admitted.

"Perhaps we could finish this game and then prepare breakfast." Kirumi suggested.

The others agreed.

After the final game, they headed to the dining hall. Kirumi started preparing the basics, with the help of the others.

For a moment, only she and Shuichi were in the kitchen. She rummaged through one of the drawers.

"Hm?"

He turned to her. "What is it?"

"Remember, the morning after the third trial, when a knife was missing?"

He frowned. "... Yes?"

"It's back."

He looked at the set of knives, that was indeed full.

For some reason, that felt... reassuring. He didn't know why.

Perhaps it was the thought that it was back without being used that made him relax.

Once the breakfast was ready, the two went back to the dining hall.

They started eating in silence. No one had a real conversation topic, unfortunately. The deaths of their friends were still lingering on their minds.

It was easy to be distracted when they were playing cards, but eating didn't grant them the same luxury.

Shuichi perked up when the door suddenly opened, revealing Miu, looking as tired as the others. "G'morning..."

"Sup."

"Hey..."

"Hello."

"H-Hey..."

She approached them and took a seat, immediately putting her head in her palms, rubbing her eyes. "I feel like I didn't sleep at all."

Kirumi sighed. "I think that is the case for everyone here."

The street artist looked at her for a moment, like lost in thoughts.

"Is everything alright?"

She suddenly stood up, pointing at her. "Where did you get that jacket??"

The mercenary stared at her for a moment, then pointed at Kaito. "He let me borrow one since I didn't feel like putting my whole uniform on."

Her bright blue eyes immediately turned to him.

"... You want one?"

"Absolutely."

He chuckled, getting up from his chair. "Alright, alright. Back to the dorms, it is."

The two left without adding anything.

"I didn't realize Kaito's jackets were that successful." Shuichi broke the silence.

"I'll pass. I like my hoodie." Kokichi said.

"Would you like a black leather jacket, Shuichi?" Kirumi asked him, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"No thanks, I'm good."

They continued eating until the door opened again, this time revealing Ryoma, who instead of his striped blue and white top, had a plain white shirt.

"It's quiet in here. Not that I'm complaining."

He took a seat.

Shuichi looked at him for a moment. "Did you also decide to wear something else?"

Ryoma glanced at the three others, noticing the changes. "This shirt is more comfortable. Don't have any reason not to put it on."

He leaned back into his chair, a piece of toast in his hand. "So Kirumi got Kaito's jacket, Shuichi stopped wearing his vest and tie and Kokichi stopped with the hood, huh."

"I also saw Kaito dropping the hair gel and Miu wanting a leather jacket on my way here." he added.

Kirumi shrugged. "I don't really know why everyone decided to dress up differently today, but it's their choice. I will probably continue wearing this, though. It feels comfortable enough."

Kokichi gripped his hood. "I said I was going to try not to wear it anymore... I want to feel more open but I'm still nervous about this..."

Shuichi faintly smiled. "If you don't want to take it off right now, don't force yourself to."

"No I'll... I'll try. I want to make an effort for this."

The weapons maker shrugged. "Didn't say it as an insult. Do what you want, I'm in no position to judge."

He smiled. "Thank you, Ryoma."

As for Shuichi, it was mostly because he wasn't in the mood to put on his tie and vest at five in the morning. But now that everyone started changing their outfits, perhaps he could keep his outfit this way.

Shortly after, Kaito and Miu came back, the latter having her overall's straps dropped down and a black leather jacket covering her.

"You!" she pointed at Kokichi. "I didn't even notice you dropped the hood!"

He jumped at the accusation. "I- It's nothing, really..."

She approached him, ruffling his hair. "I'm proud of you, you know that?"

He stuttered, not knowing how to react. "I-I guess? Thank you?"

She laughed. "Don't sweat it. It's the first step!"

Looking at those two made Shuichi smile. It was like Miu adopted him. And that just seeing him make efforts to change was enough to make her happy.

They continued eating, the mood brightened up by Miu.

But something was... amiss.

The violinist looked around the room.

Someone was missing.

And it was none other than Rantaro.

The medic hadn't shown up at all.

Ryoma also seemed to have noticed this, judging by how much he glanced at the door.

"Where is he?" the violinist heard him mutter.

"You... haven't seen Rantaro since the trial?"

The smaller man must have just realized Shuichi heard him talking.

"... I told him about Keebo yesterday. But he refused to talk any further, saying he had 'stuff to think about'."

Right after an emotionally exhausting trial... Does this guy ever take breaks?

"I'm just hoping he managed to calm himself down." Ryoma sighed.

As if on cue, the door opened.

Shuichi felt his heart skip a beat when Rantaro came into view.

If the others looked tired, this was nothing compared to him.

His hair was messy, he had rather huge eyebags and his gaze felt devoid of life.

He looked terrible, to say the least.

The others turned to him, all visibly worried.

He didn't even pay attention to them and started walking towards the kitchen.

Was he limping?

The others exchanged concerned glances. Miu stood up and followed him.

Shuichi could barely hear Miu's voice. Rantaro didn't talk, judging by the pitch of the voices. Miu sounded panicked.

Shortly after, he came back to the dining hall with a thermostat, not even glancing at anyone else, simply heading to the door.

"Rantaro, please just-" Miu got back to the room.

The medic stopped, his back turned to the rest of them.

"What... Is going on with you?" her voice cracked.

He stayed silent for a moment. All eyes on him.

"... I'm fine. I'll join you guys later."

Ryoma pushed back his chair and stood up. "Rantaro, please don't go down that path. I'm begging you."

He paused for a moment. "... I. am. fine."

"You're shaking." Kirumi added. "You don't sound nor look fine."

He stared at his empty hand for a moment, clearly shivering like a leaf.

Miu took a step forward. "Ran-

* S L A M *

He suddenly punched the wall, startling everyone.

"... I said I'm fine, didn't I? I'll join you guys when we'll have to explore the new places."

He left the room without a word, leaving the others in awe.

Miu was in shock. She looked like she was holding back tears. "What... What happened to him...? I-I can't..."

Ryoma was staring at the now closed door. "... This isn't like him. At all."

Shuichi quietly glanced at Kirumi, who did the same.

They would have to ask him a lot of questions.

"D-Did he tell you anything in the kitchen?" Kokichi hesitantly asked.

The street artist shook her head. "No, he just... He just poured a litter of coffee into a thermostat, added about ten sugar cubes, and left."

She put both of her hands on her mouth. "What... What happened...?"

No one knew. They had never seen him like this.

Yesterday's trial was already hard for him, they all had thought he would get better by the morning, but...

... That was not the case. If anything, he was in an even worse state than before.

The mood had severely dropped.

Shuichi looked back at his toast. He didn't know what to say. What to do. What to think.

The deafening silence was strengthening the heavy atmosphere.

He wanted to puke.

But of course, that was the moment Monokuma and his green monokub chose to pop up.

"Sheesh! What a mood!"

He didn't even have the strength to argue. Even less than when he saw him in the main hallway earlier.

"Get out." Miu spat.

"My! My! That isn't a way to talk to-

"GET OUT!!"

She threw a glass at him full force, tears in her eyes, but missed her target.

The sound of broken glass echoed through the room as it exploded on the floor.

"It's your fault everyone is like this! It's your fault everyone is turning crazy! Just fucking get out of my sight already!"

"Oh~ You should know violence against the headmaster is prohi-

"I don't care anymore!"

Shuichi's eyes widened.

"I don't care if it's against the rules! I'm sick of you and your bullshit! We've been watching you torment us over, and over, and over again, is that not enough for you??"

"I don't..."

She fell to her knees.

"I don't care anymore, just..."

"... Just get out."

The room fell silent.

Even Monokuma looked like he was thinking his words through.

"... You kids don't even have a sense of humor anymore! I'm not even entertained at this point. Plus, I have better businesses to attend to!"

He left, surprisingly enough.

Monodam, however, kept staring at the girl.

"..."

"HERE-ARE-YOUR-PRIZES. THIS-ONE-IS-THE-LAST-REAL-KEY. AND-THIS-ONE-IS-THE-REAL-LAST-KEY.*"

He put two keys on the table. One looked futuristic, one traditional.

Before they could object to anything, the second bear left.

Kaito stood up and approached Miu, gesturing to them that perhaps they should be left alone for now.

Everyone was on the verge of losing it, whether they were showing it or not.

Shuichi grabbed the keys and the rest of them left the dining hall.

Now it was just Ryoma, Kokichi, Kirumi, and himself.

"Do we... start the investigation?"

Kirumi thought for a moment. "Perhaps it would be for the best."

"Before that, I want to check on Rantaro." Ryoma declared. "There's no way I'm leaving him alone right now."

He nodded. Even if the bare thought of looking at him hurt, they had to, for his sake. As payment for all the times he helped them.

The four started making their way to the third floor, where Rantaro's lab was. According to Ryoma, this was the most plausible place for him to be.

"Stay behind, I don't think the four of us entering will do any good."

They all kept their distance from the lab.

Shuichi heard Ryoma knocking.

After a few seconds, the door opened. He actually hoped to get a grasp on the situation but realized eavesdropping on the conversation would not be possible as Ryoma closed the door behind him.

They could only wait.

Shuichi started examining the keys to distract himself. But every single one of his thoughts was plagued by the current state of the medic.

He was the first person he met in the killing game after stepping out of the locker.

He was the one to help Shuichi calm down at rough times, the one to give advice.

He was the one who gave them the greatest clues during the trials.

He was the one suggesting the best strategies possible to get through the motives.

But the more they went through this killing game, the more his vision of him was tainted by madness.

...

He missed the old Rantaro, if he ever existed. Even if it was just a facade, he missed it.

Shuichi felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Kirumi. Ryoma and Rantaro had joined them and they were ready to go.

"... Are you okay?"

He nodded.

They made their way to the fifth floor, upon Ryoma's request. He had insisted to go there since there was a chance his lab opened.

The walk in the large corridors was silent, their footsteps echoing through the room.

Shuichi glanced at Rantaro. He seemed to have calmed down a bit but the tiredness on his face still showed.

They approached the door, which of course had a lock.

The violinist inspected the keys to see which one looked more appropriate, then handed the traditional key to Ryoma.

"Thanks."

He turned it to unlock the door.

When he pushed it, the lab was finally in view.

It looked like an ancient military warehouse, with an appearance very different from the one of the first floor. This one had giant wooden boxes in some places, and by looking at the ceiling, he noticed several crane hooks hanged up by iron chains.

The light from the bulbs was faint, but still enough for them to see most of the lab. It was even bigger than any other, actually. They started going around to explore, and finally noticed the part in the back, behind the boxes. It had a giant workbench with an important amount of tools.

This was definitely Ryoma's lab.

The two soldiers approached the workbench.

"Think you can do stuff with this?" Rantaro asked.

"Absolutely. I just need the materials, but I'm guessing that's what those boxes are for."

Kirumi approached one of them. However, no opening was visible. "And how are you supposed to open this?"

Ryoma looked around. He approached what seemed to be a control panel. He pressed a button and the machine came to life.

He paused for a moment, then started pressing several other buttons.

Shuichi looked behind him, and from what he understood, the panel controlled the cranes. However, Ryoma didn't look like he wanted to grab something. He positioned the hook next to a box, almost on the floor.

He approached the chain and to Shuichi's surprise, climbed it up with extreme agility. He made his way to the top of a box with relative ease.

Ryoma inspected the box from above, and after some rummaging the violinist couldn't see quite well, he saw him disappearing into the container.

He came back a few seconds after with a bunch of wires.

"Figured it was something like that."

He put them back and climbed down the chain.

"There's a trap above the box to access the materials. I'll have to investigate further but since those boxes are labeled it should be fine."

... The box with the label "DANGER" on it definitely didn't sound safe, though.

What kind of materials was he working with?

Actually, since he was a military engineer, it was quite normal he worked with dangerous materials.

He thought for a moment. "... I'll probably have to fetch Kaito so I can repair his leg properly. I got the proper tools, now."

"Do you want me to bring him here?" Kirumi asked.

"If you guys are fine investigating the rest by yourselves, then sure."

Shuichi glanced at Rantaro, who didn't seem to react at first. "... I'm fine with it."

Ryoma looked at the others for a moment. "Tell him I'll be waiting here."

The group started making their way out.

The walk was silent until Miu and Kaito themselves showed up. The street artist seemed to have calmed down a bit, but she visibly perked up when she saw Rantaro.

Kirumi didn't waste any time. "Ryoma is waiting for you on the fifth floor to repair your leg. The rest of us will explore what's left."

"Oh, his lab opened? Neat!"

Miu tapped him on the shoulder. "I'll see ya later, alright?"

He gave her a thumbs-up as he made his way to the fifth floor.

The others continued climbing down the stairs to the first floor.

"... I need to check something." Rantaro said as he walked through the corridors.

The rest of them glanced at each other for a moment before deciding to follow him.

He had stopped in front of a door in the hallway in the back, decorated with black and white squares.

The door actually opened with a simple pull, unlike every other time they tried to.

They walked through a corridor before their eyes landed on a spiral staircase. Shuichi looked up to see that the top probably reached above the fifth floor.

"... That's going to be a long way." Kirumi sighed.

But they had to.

Climbing up the stairs was a bit exhausting to him, but then realized neither Rantaro, Kirumi nor Kokichi complained.

... Good thing Kaito wasn't there with them.

After what felt like an eternity, they reached the top of the staircase.

Kokichi's eyes widened when he looked at the door in front of him. It was decorated with stars and planets.

This was Himiko's lab.

He glanced at him for a moment. "Do you... Are you sure you want to go?"

The boy took a deep breath. "... Yes."

Rantaro opened the door.

The lab was quite impressive. There were different machines and desks on the sides, and what looked like a giant telescope in the middle. The lab had an almost magical atmosphere. The black floor had some small white spots emitting light. The walls on the sides looked either grey or white. Shuichi didn't know since it was quite dark in here.

But the most impressive was the dome above. Even if it didn't have any pattern on it, just looking at the metal structure was enough to leave him in awe.

Kokichi approached the telescope. But that's when they realized the footsteps he left emitted a white light for a moment before disappearing. That was actually a really nice touch.

Shuichi tried it for himself. This lab was truly fantastic.

Kirumi went to one side and pressed a button on the wall, which was actually the one turning the lights on.

He realized the walls were indeed white as everything came to view.

This was less impressive this way, but still let them appreciate the room in its entirety.

The mercenary pressed another button, and this time the dome above them slowly opened, revealing the bright blue sky.

Shuichi approached the telescope as well. He didn't have any knowledge of how to use it. No one did, unfortunately.

Looking at the room, he immediately understood why Himiko was so fascinated by astronomy.

But she wasn't there to enjoy it, unfortunately. She would have loved it for sure.

"Kokichi."

Rantaro's voice called the small boy.

"Do you wish to be alone for now?"

The smaller boy stayed silent for a moment. "... Yes, please."

"I'll join you guys later if you find something else but... I want to stay here for a while."

Kokichi didn't look upset. Just pensive.

Perhaps it was better to leave him be for now.

"Alright, just tell us if something's wrong, okay?" Miu grinned at him.

He looked at her for a moment, then glanced away. "Actually... Can you... stay too, please?"

She blinked a few times, surprised. "Sure, of course!"

The street artist glanced at the other three. Shuichi smiled as he made his way out with the two others.

The young woman closed the door behind her.

Now it was just him, Rantaro, and Kirumi.

"Let's go."

Rantaro didn't waste any time and immediately started climbing down the stairs.

The walk was silent, Shuichi was making sure he didn't trip down.

After reaching the first floor, Kirumi spoke up. "Rantaro, I do not wish to force you to do anything, but Ryoma is right. Going down the path of isolation is not going to help you."

He quickly glanced back at her. "I told you I'm fine, didn't I? Besides now is not the time. We have an academy to explore, we have to find out who killed Keebo, we have to defeat the mastermind, we have to get out of here-

"Calm down for a minute, alright? You're one of us, Rantaro. Not some kind of pawn to use however we like."

"You think I got a goddamn choice?" he stopped, approaching the mercenary, staring at her with his now signature glare. "We've lost way too much time doing nothing. If we continue like this there's gonna be none of us left. You saw how easy it is for the mastermind to manipulate one of us into killing, right? I don't want to take more time and risks. We've been through enough."

"That's not the point, we'll not ever get out if we don't think rationally. For now, there are issues you need to address, and that's coming from me."

"You're missing the real problem here." He looked at her dead in the eyes. "I swore to myself that I would get you guys out of here. And if I see one more person dying, I'll never forgive myself for this. So at least let me do the one thing I was supposed to do in this cursed academy."

"If I can't save anyone from this absurd war, then I have no right to call myself a soldier, and I have even less the right to call myself Rantaro Amami, ultimate war medic."

She paused for a moment, the two pairs of green eyes intensely looking at each other.

"Soldier or not, you are no less human than any of us, Rantaro."

"If I'm no soldier, if I can't even accomplish that one damn task, then I'm nothing. I have a duty, and if you got a problem with that, you can give me the key so I can look around for myself."

Shuichi's grip on the item strengthened.

The two stared at him. He didn't know what to do. He was frozen in place.

"I-I..."

The words were stuck in his throat.

"L-Let's just look around together like we first planned to...?"

He was bad at this. He cringed at his own reaction.

"Then let's just go."

Rantaro started walking away.

Shuichi felt guilty. But he had no clue what to say.

When he was far enough, Kirumi turned to him. "... I don't know why he started acting like this all of a sudden, but that's not something I'll turn my back to. We'll have to tell Ryoma about this and ask him for explanations."

"... Agreed."

Just when the two started to move, Rantaro went back to get them. "... I thought you two were following me."

"We're coming."

They got out of the building since there was nothing left to see here. Perhaps another one opened?

They went outside and started walking towards the set of stairs.

Shuichi saw Rantaro reaching for something in his inner pockets and put it in the ones on the outside. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around his waist. He also rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt.

He had never noticed it before, but Rantaro did have scars on his arms. They didn't look like clean cuts, more like old serious injuries.

Rantaro didn't seem to care as he continued walking.

He saw Kirumi narrowing her eyes. She was paying close attention to him.

After going down the stairs, Rantaro's eyes landed on the giant grey building on the right.

Maybe that was the one needing to be opened? There was what looked like one of the locks from the previous motive next to it, but different. A blue keyhole symbol was cut on it. Maybe that's where the second key belonged.

The moment he put the key, the building made a strange noise.

"... Is it open, now?" He asked.

Kirumi approached the door and pushed it. It opened, just like he thought.

The trio entered the building. It had a sci-fi vibe to it. Both futuristic and abandoned.

The corridors were empty. It didn't look like anything was worth looking at, so they continued walking.

They noticed a room that didn't look any different from the corridors. It looked like it had three empty spaces in the walls, giving the room a strange shape. But nothing was worth inspecting here.

They left the room to continue walking through the corridors.

They reached an intersection. The left side was a dead end, but they noticed something odd. There was a small window here.

Kirumi stepped on the pipe to get a better look. "There's a bathroom in here."

"A bathroom?"

He stepped forward to look and it was indeed a futuristic-looking bathroom. Strange.

The window was way too small for them to pass anything but their heads. Ryoma probably could try to pass through it, but they were not sure about whether or not this would work.

They went the other way, hoping they would see something more interesting.

The three of them finally reached the end of the corridor, but what awaited them was a huge shutter, blocking the access to what was supposedly behind.

Kirumi narrowed her eyes. "I have a bad feeling about this. We should be careful."

Rantaro carefully approached the shutter, but the moment he was a tiny bit too close to the door, an alarm started ringing.

Shuichi slammed his hands against his ears. Sometimes he regretted having better hearing.

"W-What's going on?"

Rantaro walked away from the shutter, his also on his ears.

Monokuma appeared right after. "Oh my! Tsk, tsk, tsk! Don't you go setting off the alarm now! C'mon, c'mon, outta the way so I can turn off that alarm."

After a moment, the noise finally stopped.

"Geez! You guys gotta be more careful!"

Kirumi glared at him. "Explain yourself."

Monokuma proceeded to talk about the mechanism of the door, and how that area had to be secured. There was also a digital code that was too long to remember, but he let them go inside anyway.

Although they didn't know what was the point of visiting this room if they couldn't ever come back here.

But when they entered, their eyes immediately landed on what was on the left.

The five exisals were here, sitting in the room.

"T-The exisals??"

Rantaro immediately took a scalpel and a pair of scissors out from the pockets of his jacket, on guard, and his eyes locked on the exisals. "I'm not letting them act twice."

Kirumi raised a hand. "Calm down. They do not look active."

Shuichi didn't know if he should feel terrified or reassured these two had weapons on them at all times.

At that moment, Monokuma joined them once again.

"Ah-hahaha! Surprised? This is actually the Exisal hangar! Yep, this is where the Exisals are stored!"

That... made sense, considering what this place looked like.

"But..." he sighed. "It's almost pointless now."

Rantaro bitterly chuckled. "What, because you have only one of your minions left so you can't control them anymore?"

The black and white bear started sweating, somehow. "What!? No one can control them anymore!?"

"So he's right." Kirumi narrowed her eyes at him.

"Oh, don't worry about my reaction just now. I thought a somewhat over-the-top reaction would put you guys on the defensive."

The two pairs of green eyes glared at him.

"W-Whatever, have fun visiting!"

He left without another word.

Rantaro put the medical tools back into his pockets. However, Shuichi noticed something odd.

There was a faint pink stain on the scalpel.

"Rantaro, could you please take back the scalpel you just put in your pocket?" the mercenary eyed him.

"Hm?"

"The scalpel."

He sighed as he took it out.

"That's blood, isn't it?"

"... I was treating an injury and forgot to wash it. No big deal."

Kirumi wasn't buying it. Neither was Shuichi.

"Go on. What was the injury?"

He stayed silent for a moment.

"... None of your business. Besides we have this room to explore." he put the scalpel away.

"You're not getting away that easily. Who did you use that on."

"Myself, sheesh! Will you quit it already??"

"Then prove it!" The mercenary yelled. "At least prove to us you did use it for medical purposes!"

It was the first time he had heard Kirumi lose her calm. Shuichi felt chills just hearing her.

"You want me to prove it? Fine."

To both's surprise, he started taking his shirt off.

"What are you-"

But before any of them could protest, he was already bare chest, shirt in his hand.

"I got an old scar that reopened and I had to take care of it. Is that enough for you??"

The two stared at him in awe. Shuichi had never seen a wound that horrible.

He had more scars on his arms than he thought. But more importantly, the one on his chest made him shiver. The stitches looked almost hastily put back on, but if Rantaro did it himself then perhaps it was normal.

There was a long silence between them.

After glancing a few times between the two, the medic finally put his shirt back on.

"As I was saying, we have this place to explore. Let's just see if something is worth investigating here."

He turned his back on them and approached what looked like a giant hydraulic press.

Kirumi and Shuichi glanced at each other.

It was the look that meant "We'll talk about it later."

The violinist approached the exisals. They were unmoving, but that was to be expected since only one of the cubs remained.

... Perhaps now they were less of a danger than they were at the beginning.

Even if the hangar was almost pointless for Monokuma now, why would he give them access to those exisals?

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard Kirumi trying to handle one of the machines.

"W-What are you doing?"

She turned to him. "I want to see if they're usable for us."

However, she was unable to even open the thing.

Which meant that plan was out of the window.

There was also a washing machine and a spray painter for the exisals, from what they had guessed.

... If they had the possibility to move the exisals, then Miu would have had fun with this, probably.

Shuichi turned to Rantaro, who was inspecting the safety notice of the hydraulic press.

Apparently, there was a safety function forbidding from fully going down when a living organism was on it.

But then again, it wasn't like they were ever going to use it.

As Rantaro went to inspect the exisals, Shuichi went to the door in the back. Perhaps something interesting was in there?

After opening the door, he realized that...

... It was only the bathroom they had seen from the window in the corridor.

Why even have a bathroom here? It wasn't like the bear could use it. And they were probably not going to be in this room ever again.

So it was useless for absolutely everyone.

Great.

Since there was nothing else to investigate, they left.

Now that he thought about it, they hadn't seen any flashback lights.

Was it normal?

Either way, the only thing they could do was to go back to the main building and tell the others about their discovery, even though now it was pretty useless.

The walk was as silent as ever, none of them in the mood to talk.

But both the mercenary and the violinist knew they had to inform Ryoma about how Rantaro acted.

They went back to the dining hall. Only Miu and Kokichi were here.

"Oh- did you guys discover anything?" the street artist asked, trying to hide her obvious nervousness.

"Perhaps we should wait until Ryoma and Kaito come back?" Shuichi suggested.

She paused. "Hm... I don't even know how much time it will take for Ryoma to repair Kaito's leg... And it's not like he can walk four sets of stairs without it."

Good point.

"At least for now we should just give them a quick sum-up of what we found." Kirumi added.

They explained everything they had discovered in the exisal hangar, but that it would be pretty useless for them since a code was needed to enter, that they had no possible way to remember.

Miu was rather disappointed not to be able to paint the exisals. According to her, it would have been quite an experience.

Since it was almost noon, Miu and Kirumi decided to prepare lunch.

Kokichi joined them as well.

Now it was just him and Rantaro, sitting in uncomfortable silence.

"Do you... Wanna check on Ryoma and Kaito?" he suggested.

Rantaro stood up. "Sure."

After telling the kitchen trio, the two made their way to the fifth floor.

Shuichi wanted to say something. He was never the best at comforting, but he could still try.

"H-Hey..."

The medic briefly turned around. "Hm?"

"I uh..." He trailed off. "I... didn't know you had those scars... I'm sorry if we made you uncomfortable back then."

He was silent for a moment. "... It's fine. Those are old scars. I don't pay attention to them anymore."

That was clearly a lie.

"Please just... I know you probably don't want to talk to me about it but... You're friends with Ryoma, right? He doesn't think any less of you because of the trial... I know he'll talk to you if you ask him."

The violinist saw him narrowing his eyes a bit. "... I'll think about it."

So that was the best he could get out of him.

They reached the lab and Shuichi knocked on the door before entering.

The two made their way to the back. Kaito was sitting on one of the wooden boxes, watching Ryoma working on the prosthetic leg.

"Oh, hey there."

Ryoma perked his head up, taking off his safety glasses. "You're back."

"We wanted to check on you both... How is work going?" Shuichi asked.

He took the prosthetic leg in his hands. "I'm almost done. It wasn't exactly a hard task, it just took time for me to identify the correct materials and get them. It isn't easy when your partner is a one-legged man."

Kaito groaned. "Sorry, sorry... I can't exactly help it, y'know?"

"Never said you could."

The three stayed there as Ryoma kept working.

After some time, he was finally done.

"Here. I did my best."

Kaito examined the leg. "It's as good as new! Thanks!"

The weapons maker snickered. "Don't sweat it. Just don't get another spear or something in the leg, okay?"

He laughed. "I'll try, I'll try."

Kaito put his leg back on and the four finally left the lab to go back to the dining hall.

The three had just finished preparing lunch.

It was nice to eat a real meal after days of bland rice and crackers.

They ate in silence since there was no possible way to make a nice conversation. The atmosphere was tense, Shuichi could sense it.

"So... No flashback light this time?" Kokichi hesitantly asked.

Miu hummed. "That's odd... Monokuma always gives us one after a trial..."

Kirumi sighed. "So we're no further ahead, then."

Too bad. They thought they could at least get a better idea of what was going on, where they were, why they were here, but Monokuma decided not to help them.

Was it because they already knew too much?

After all, they learned that Kaito was not Keebo's killer, they had Tsumugi's notebook to read, Kiyo's notebook would perhaps give him more information on the others...

Was there enough information in there for them to figure out the rest?

He would have to take a look at the notebooks, then.

But right now, he just felt tired.

He wanted to be alone.

After that, everyone parted their ways, agreeing to investigate the rest when they would be in a better mental state.

Kokichi wanted to go back to Himiko's lab, alone this time.

Miu and Kaito were together in the street artist's lab.

Kirumi was not in the mood to be with anyone, which was more than understandable.

And to his relief, Ryoma and Rantaro were hanging out together.

Shuichi didn't know what to do. He simply felt tired from this morning's events.

... Perhaps he could try to get some rest.

He went back to his room and laid on his bed.

He closed his eyes, desperately hoping that he would not be haunted by nightmarish visions this time.

...

5 PM.

Shuichi slowly opened his eyes. He had managed to sleep peacefully, for once.

He sat up, rubbing his face.

Taking a look at his monopad, he tried to see where everyone was.

Ryoma and Rantaro had moved to the casino, for some reason.

Kokichi was still in Himiko's lab.

As for Kirumi, Kaito, and Miu, they were all in the street artist's lab.

... Perhaps he could try to talk to Kokichi. He hadn't spoken to him alone for a long time.

Hopefully, he would accept his visit.

After getting to the astronomer's lab and climbing the huge amount of steps, he knocked on the door.

A few moments later, Kokichi opened. "Shuichi?"

He didn't look mad, thankfully.

"Do you mind if I come in?"

Kokichi nodded as he let the violinist into the lab.

There were open books and papers scattered around the telescope.

"What were you doing?" he asked.

Kokichi reached for one of the books. "I wanted to see what got Himiko so passionate about space... Miu told me I could try to read some books about astronomy, and now I'm trying to look at the stars and constellations."

Carrying Himiko's legacy... That was a nice thought.

"But to be honest... There's something I'm trying to do, but it will take time, I think."

"What is it?"

He took a piece of paper. "I'm trying to retrace what I can find with the telescope, the constellations visible from here and everything. But more importantly..."

He narrowed his eyes at the sky map from one of the books.

"... I'm trying to figure out where we are on this planet."

Shuichi's eyes widened. That was actually a smart idea. Considering how there was a possibility they were thousands of kilometers away from their home, using the stars as a way to locate themselves was a great plan.

"For now I'm mostly trying to figure out how this telescope works... But if I do manage to use it there's a possibility we figure out where we are and which season we are currently in!"

Shuichi grinned. "That's great! I don't know much about astronomy but if it can help us then I'm all for it."

Kokichi smiled, but he quickly dropped it. "T-Thanks... Although I'm sure Himiko would have gladly done it instead of me..."

The violinist put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure Himiko would have been proud to see you getting interested in astronomy."

"... Maybe you're right."

The two tried to understand how the telescope worked.

Kokichi was reading one of the manuals while Shuichi tried to move the machine.

It took them a while, but after some time they managed to completely figure out the telescope's basic aspects.

But looking at the time on the clock, perhaps it was better to just go downstairs for now.

That may have been a small step for them, but that could be one giant leap for the group.

The two went back to the first floor. The trio that was in the street artist's lab was now preparing dinner.

"Oh, hey there!" Miu called them.

Shuichi approached the group. "What are you guys preparing?"

"The classic beef ramen, baby!" Kaito exclaimed. "... It's the only recipe I know."

He giggled. "Do you guys need any help?"

"Eh, just set the table. It's not like you can do much right now." Miu shrugged.

The two did as told. While they were doing so, the other two boys came in as well.

They ate in silence. Kokichi explained his plan to find their location, and that he would perhaps try this evening.

Shuichi thought about the two notebooks. He didn't have the energy to read them, but he would surely have to do so at some point.

But just as they were about to leave, the screen of the monitor turned on.

"Ahem! This is a school announcement!"

The others turned to the screen, showing Monokuma stirring a glass.

"Everyone, please gather at the gym immediately!"

They all looked at each other.

What kind of announcement did Monokuma want to make?

They made their way here, Shuichi's heart pounding in his chest.

When everyone arrived, the bear wasn't there.

"... Where is he?" Kaito asked.

As if on cue, the black and white robot popped up, along with his green cub.

"My, my! I have waited wayyy too long for you guys to show up! Don't ever make your headmaster wait that much ever again!"

Miu rolled her eyes. "We are the ones who waited for you, though."

"Cut that shit out." Rantaro took a step forward. "What do you want from us?"

The bear pouted. "Quit being so impatient! Besides..."

He took a look at all of them. "Who told you that you were allowed not to wear your uniforms properly??"

Ryoma shrugged. "Not in the rules, chief."

His passive tone almost made Shuichi snicker.

The bear grunted. "Whatever. I'm here to give you what you all have been waiting for!"

Kokichi raised an eyebrow. "The flashback light?"

"No." Rantaro interrupted him. "If he wanted to give us a flashback light, he would have done so during the explorations."

"Oh~ Perspective, aren't we?" Monokuma put his paws on his mouth. "You are right! There's no flashback light this time!"

"I reunited all of you here to announce the new motive!"

Huh? Already? Monokuma always waited the day after the explorations to announce the new motive. Why the sudden change?

"You see, I was planning another motive, but I am going to put it aside for now. I mean, someone gave me an excellent idea!"

Someone? Who would even give ideas to him?

"Stop the nonsense." Ryoma glared at him. "We already know who you're talking about. And I don't think he suggested you anything."

... Nope. No idea.

"Well, well. Inspired, gave me ideas, same thing!"

Kirumi crossed her arms. "I am supposing this is about Korekiyo, right?"

Shuichi turned to her. "Wh-"

"Ding ding ding! You are absolutely right!"

Korekiyo... Inspired him?

"Your dear friend had a deal with me. He had to make sure the trial went on for at least one hour, and then he was free to do whatever he wanted!"

"So I decided to give you guys the motive you all love from the bottom of your hearts..."

"... A time limit!"

What? Again? But... Why? What did it have to do with Kiyo?

"And since he made the trial last for four long hours, your time limit will be in four days!"

So that's why Kiyo kept on fighting... It was to buy them more time to end the game by themselves.

"That's right! From this moment, you have exactly 96 hours to kill the person of your choice!"

The others looked at the bear in shock.

"Soooo... Do what you want with this, but if no one is dead by the limit, consider yourselves as dead as good ol' Tsumugi!"

He flinched at those words.

And he was not the only one.

The black bear left before they could add anything, leaving the green cub alone.

"..."

"GOOD-LUCK. MAY-THE-ODDS-BE-IN-YOUR-FAVOR."

He left.

Shuichi could only stare at the spot where Monokuma was.

They had thought he wouldn't put another time limit but... They were sorely mistaken.

Did that mean it was never supposed to be the motive until Kiyo acted on his own?

What was the original motive, then?

He glanced at Rantaro, who had his fists clenched, but was silent, like deep in thought.

"... Ryoma."

The weapons maker perked up. "Yes?"

"You have more than enough materials to create whatever machine you desire, right?"

He put his hands in his pockets. "... What are you planning?"

Rantaro let out a chuckle. "Isn't it obvious?"

"We're getting out of here."

Shuichi perked up. The only way to get out was through the...

... Death road of ...

...

That... That was his plan?

To create weapons to go through the death road of despair?

"You want me to create the proper equipment to go through the tunnels?"

"Exactly."

They now had the engineer's lab open, and all the possibilities with it.

Now was their chance. They could do it.

They could escape.

"Wait, wait, wait..." Miu approached Rantaro. "You want us to go through the death road of despair, again?"

"That's our only solution." he replied. "If we can disable the traps in the tunnels, we can get out."

"R-Really??" Kaito exclaimed. "So we actually have a chance?"

"Listen well."

Rantaro raised his voice, stepping forward to make sure everyone could see him.

"Tonight, Ryoma will be making the equipment for the tunnels. I will be preparing medical stuff for if things go wrong."

"If we can get through the tunnels, we can get out of this place for good."

"I'm gonna have to ask you to get some food and water just in case we need it outside."

"We're in the endgame now. If this mission succeeds, we can go back to the outside world without having to worry about a time limit nor a killing game anymore."

"I'm counting on you all. Get some rest tonight, because tomorrow, we're out."

"Did I make myself clear!?"

Shuichi could finally sense some hope. Even though Rantaro looked furious at Monokuma for reminding him about his past mistakes, he could sense his fighting spirit.

The will to end the game, growling from deep inside him.

"Alright!" Miu yelled. "It's decided! We're out!"

"Y-Yeah! We have to do this!" Kokichi added.

"It's about damn time." Kirumi sighed in relief. "The atmosphere here may have been better than before the game for me, but I'm getting tired of Monokuma's nonsense."

"Then we'll fight! We're going to make it!" Kaito exclaimed.

Shuichi was impressed by everyone's sudden will to fight. "Then I'll fight too!"

Ryoma chuckled. "You can count on me for the weapons, boss. It's nice to see the fighting spirit of our medic."

Rantaro looked at them, a determined look on his face.

A determination that was filled with the rage accumulated these past two weeks.

A determination fueled by the shining hope, rising from deep inside their hearts.

"... Let's do this."

The group separated. Ryoma went to his lab, Rantaro went to his own and Miu volunteered to get the food from the dining hall.

They were going to get out of here.

For Gonta. For Tenko. For Kaede. For Maki. For Himiko. For Keebo. For Angie. For Tsumugi. And for Korekiyo.

Tomorrow would be a big day.

The day where this killing game ends.

#ndrv3 #danganronpa v3 #ndrv3 au #beta au #main story

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nekolatte · 4 years ago

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Chapter 7: Two Back

Preview: Trevor sighed and wished he was drunker for this conversation. “Even if all I manage to do is get the lot of you killed?” “You saved far more of us yesterday than had you not intervened at all.”

“And here I stayed awake all night, stricken with grief.”

The words barely registered through the haze of sleep, understood more as a slurry of sound to Trevor as he attempted to claw his way up into consciousness. Small details of his surroundings began forming, settling into place to paint a picture. He was outside, after running from Dracula's horde. On the floor and in pain, because he fought with Alucard. The man in question still fast asleep, despite being the lighter sleeper of the group, because he had been close to dying and still refused the one thing that might helpー

Trevor started violently, shooting up with eyes wide but glazed over, arms around the limp body resting on himー ignoring the surprised sound at his side to blindly search for a pulse. He found it after jabbing fingers against the vulnerable skin of Alucard's throat, the rhythm sluggish but there and hating that he didn't know if this was normal for a half-breed. Maybe that's why he was always so pale.

Guiding the vampire down onto his lap, easily rearranged into a more comfortable position despite the dead-weight, Trevor scrubbed the last bits of sleep from bruised eyes while his heart got back under control only to skyrocket when he remembered Syphaー

"Thank you for finally remembering about me." Wide eyes turned to find the mage in question watching him with a bland smile. Trevor was no coward, but he may have wilted under her sharp gaze a bit. "My night went by fantastically, though not as well as yours, I imagine."

Sypha pointedly looked at the body in his lap, and before Trevor looked too he noticed the red of her eyes, the smearing of dirt on her cheeks. Her heavy slouch from where she crouched next to them and the tightness of her body language. It eased a bit, when she reached out and brushed Alucard's hair out of his face to feel the slight puff of air from his breathing.

Then Trevor noticed the protective arm he had thrown over the man's chest, the other cradling his head and… just decided to leave them. Sypha already saw, already made her assumptions. Trevor was too exhausted to make sense of it himself right now.

"I'm sorry." His voice sounded rougher than after spending a whole night binge-drinking cheap-shelf spirits, and his mouth tasted the same. Every inch of him hurt, a headache forming that was making it hard to see. He just wanted to drape himself over Alucard and sleep but he owed Sypha a proper apology.

She didn't lift her hand from brushing back Alucard’s hair, but caught Trevor in the corner of an eye. There was still pain there, a vengeful accusation that she wasn't going to bring up just yet, so Trevor continued.

"I should've tried harder to get back to you, I promised you I would. You were injured and I sent you off on your own, with God knows what going through your head. Knowing you needed help, that you'd be waiting. I shouldー there was so much more I could have done. I shouldn't have set those villagers at the front lineー I should've pulled them back, set up a barrier. Or used the silos to guard our back instead ofー"

Sypha threw herself at him and cut off any rambling that might have followed. She hugged Trevor around the shoulders, clung as if he were about to send her off on her own again. A spot of wetness soaked through the collar of his tunic to reach skin. He drew an arm from around Alucard to wrap it around Sypha instead and crushed her to his side with what strength he was regaining.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that, with Alucard softly snoring between them, Trevor sinking into the warm comfort of finding each of them safe, relatively speaking. Neither he nor Sypha willing to break the peace, though they couldn’t stay there forever. It was Sypha who pulled away first and put herself together after a huff and a rapid blink of lashes.

"You two are alive, and that is what matters now." She dusted at her ruined robes, torn and bloody, before reaching down to grab Alucard's wrists. "We need to move on."

Trevor could only nod and help her get Alucard’s limp body up, maneuvering awkwardly until the vampire was draped over Trevor's back, Sypha following close behind to keep them both steady. She guided the way through the forest, the horses closer than he remembered them being, and he questioned her with a small frown.

"I had to come looking!" She defended herself with a glare and said nothing else as she unlatched the backdoor of the carriage and two pairs of eyes peeked warily from under the heavy tarp. "Oh, this is Milo and Daria. Ilinca is in the frontー they were, um... We all escaped together."

Out of what was likely a hundred or so villagers, now there were only three. Trevor tried not to let the horror of it show on his face as Sypha shooed the children back so Trevor could set Alucard down. Without prompting, the mage climbed in right behind and tried to get him settled comfortably on the wooden bed, wasting no time to inspect his injuries.

That left Trevor to drive, then.

He walked around and tried to ignore the stare of an ancient woman who was not impressed by what she saw, as if silently blaming Trevor for not being able to save her village. Too exhausted to care, he climbed into the seat and got the horses going with a sharp click of his tongue and a whip of the reins. They trotted obediently, strong creatures that didn’t seem phased in the slightest about the horrors that took place the night before. He waited until they were back on the road that would lead them further into Wallachia, before they took such a disastrous detour, to call Sypha for a heading. She scooted closer, and Trevor risked a glance back to find Alucard under the cover of one of the horse blankets while the children watched him.

“Ilinca told me a sister of hers lives in a city not too far from here. If they have managed to withstand Dracula's hordes, her and the children will be safe there.”

Trevor caught what was unsaid, that they needed to find a safe place for their charges first and foremost before dealing with their own problems. He didn’t like itー didn’t like the deep-sleep state Alucard was in. Hibernation , like the first time they encountered him in that coffin under Gresit. Except this hadn’t been some demonic vampire lord that felled his only child but some random demon that got lucky. He cursed under his breath and quickly apologized when the old crone gave him a scalding look, muttering darkly to himself about how he anticipated the ride to be long.

Sypha had fallen asleep sometime around noon, the children followed closelyー huddled and clinging to her robes as if she was the last of their innocence they were desperate to keep. And Alucard hadn’t stirred once.

It was just him and the crone, both seemingly content with the silence. Hardly amicable, but it didn’t weighー they were two people, sharing space for as long as it took them to get where they needed to go. He didn’t anticipate making any conversation, but was pleasantly surprised when a drink of something strong was placed right under his nose. He took the gourd, gave the old woman a bewildering look, but as she didn’t deem him worthy of a glance, Trevor shrugged his shoulders and sipped.

Strong and spiced, earthy. Delicious with the right kick in the sack to banish the lingering exhaustion in his eyes. He stared down at it once again before handing it back.

“What the hell is that?”

“Tonic of my own making.” She didn’t sound like Trevor expected her toー her voice was sweet, gentle. A cool caress across a fevered forehead. “I used to make it for the farmers, during the early grain harvest. This was the last of it, before the monsters showed.”

And of course all topics had to return back to the horde, to how Trevor failed spectacularly.

“I’m sorry.” Trevor already apologized once today; he might as well just keep on going. He was sorry for allowing the village to fall, for not saving as many people as he could. For allowing his companions to come to harm, for letting them down. For not being better, faster, stronger . He was sorry for not being worth the holy blade that took the rest of his family, forced to be the last Belmont. A useless, pathetic drunk, playing at hero when he would rather lose himself in drink and die in a ditch somewhere for the wolves to feed on. “I am truly sorry.”

Trevor expected nothing in return for the emotion he poured into the single word, but what he didn’t anticipate was for a hard smack to the shoulder. He reasoned that the only reason it hurt was because he was still recuperating from last night, and not because the old crone still had strength in her withered limbs.

“What the hell.” He snarled, ready to pull at the horses so he could drop the woman off on the side of the road and leave her to fend for herself. Or at least fantasize about it for all of a glorious second, knowing he would never be able to bring himself to do it.

“Did I ask for an apology?” Ilinca retorted without even half the venom Trevor had for her, and he felt a trickle of shame slipping down his spine at it.

Trevor shrugged a shoulder and turned back to the road for something to focus on instead of the heavy weight of the old woman’s stare. They settled into silence for only a few moments before she deemed him calm enough to continue.

“I did not say that to remind you of perceived failures but that you may remember the people you fought for. I don’t have much time in this world, and I have my own doubts about how useful I can be to two children who have lost all they’ve known and must struggle in the cruel world to come. They may never remember their old home, may not wish to, but I don’t want their parents, their relatives, friends and neighbors to be forgotten. Another tally of victims that fell to dark creatures that slaughtered for no reason at all.” A bony hand settled on his arm and squeezed around the vambrace.

“Remember my people, young man. Continue fighting for those who cannot.”

Trevor sighed and wished he was drunker for this conversation. “Even if all I manage to do is get the lot of you killed?”

“You saved far more of us yesterday than had you not intervened at all.”

Said with such certainty that Trevor had to agree. Would it have been better if they kept going, never to have known the names of Ilinca, Daria and Milo? The more dominant part of his mind thought 'of course' , the part that was twisted with grief and distrust, but he knew it to be false. It would’ve hurt more knowing he could’ve saved someonerather than none at all due to inaction.

He was a Belmont, and despite the struggles and sorrow that awaited him, he had to keep fighting. It was his family’s creed, all he had to live up to now.

“Okay,” was all he could manage to say and was offered the gourd once more. Trevor drank from it greedily and somehow managed not to get sloppy drunk by the time the sun started to set.

The traveling group managed to reach the city just as it started to draw up its bridge for the night, Trevor having traded places with Sypha and the children so the guards at post would be more willing to allow them through. The horses were bitter at the long journey they were forced to endure, and refused to be tended to once the group found a stable to settle them in.

Not wanting to neglect this duty, and a more major part being that Alucard was still in deep sleep within the covered carriage, Trevor volunteered to stay behind to tend to the horses and keep an eye on Alucard while Sypha and Ilinca took the children to find Ilinca’s sister.

From within the corral stationed at the edge of the city walls, Trevor took notice of the flurry of activity despite the dimming hour. There were many soldiers present, more than Trevor thought a city of this size could hold, though a trained eye told him that not all were seasoned in the professionー many young, and even some women disguised among the ranks. They rushed people home, snuffed out any and every flame they came across. By the light of the heavy moon above, they went around and doused buildings with buckets of water pulled from large basins carted by strong, hefty horses.

It took him a few moments to realize it was holy water.

It took him a bit longer to realize one of the cart’s paths led straight to where Alucard currently slept. The tarp was meant to be waterproof, he knew, but his heart clenched painfully, and he leapt into action all the same. At this point of their travels, Trevor really should’ve known if Alucard was in any danger, should know more about his acquaintances than their names, but he didn’t. He didn’t and now he was forced to act irrationally, compulsively, climbing into the back of the cart with his back towards the roadー Alucard shielded with Trevor’s own body as best he could manage.

Those tense, few moments of water crashing against the side, over the top, gliding down in invisible rivulets, lasted far too long. Trevor’s heart hammered with adrenaline, though with no means to shake it loose from his system he started to tremble from the force of it. Made to wait until the soldiers marched on and nothing happened, immediately feeling ridiculous though thankful no one was around to see him overreact.

Trevor was ready to return to the horses when the minuscule sound of a droplet falling caught his trained ear and a sharp hiss of pain followed after. Trevor turned, expecting the worstー like Alucard’s face melting offー though was relieved in a way he didn’t think possible to see groggy eyes staring back at him from the dim. There was a glow to them Trevor never noticed before, didn’t care to notice, and was surprised when he failed to react the way he normally did when coming face-to-face with Alucard’s otherness.

Taking more caution to not appear like a damn fool, Trevor quietly approached at a more sedated pace, and sat at Alucard’s side. Trevor eyed him up and down, noting he hadn’t moved at all.

“Hey, still with us?”

A pause followed by a tense grunt was all the response he got in return. Trevor tried not to sigh but failed, knowing his disappointment was clear to see by the minuscule pinch of Alucard’s brow.

“Still not going to let me help, are you?”

That pinch deepened just a bit, erased by shock of surprise when a droplet fell from above and sizzled on Alucard’s cheek. It stirred him further, and like a dead man rising from the grave, Alucard took great pains to sit up.

Trevor stayed silent, on his side of the carriage, another shot of adrenalineー to make him move, make him help, make him do somethingー made him shake and he clenched a fist tight to suppress it.

“Do I need to go hunt a couple of rats for you to chew on,” the words came out bitter, stinging his own tongue when unleashed. Though Trevor couldn’t stop himself and didn’t really want to. “Since my blood seems too inadequate for your refined palate?”

A sneer was reward for the question, lip raised to show off the fangs that Trevor hated so much. He was forced to sit there and watch Alucard wheeze in a deep breath for speech. “The smell will draw attention.”

Trevor scoffed, irritated in such a ferocious capacity that he couldn’t begin to understand, and turned away to climb out of the carriage without another word given. That small bit of camaraderie they reached the night before must have been left behind in the forest because there was none of it here. Trevor thought, probably stupidly, that they would put this idiotic game behind them and act like proper adults. But, apparently, he was the only one that thought it.

With a half-hearted wave over his shoulder, Trevor went back to the horses to sleep on a pile of hay and entirely missed the weak hand stretching out for him.

#go for gold #trevorcard #castlevania

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mycupoffanfiction · 6 years ago

Text

His Second Chance Part 6

Bucky x Reader

His Second Chance Masterlist

Bucky comes back from Wakanda with Steve, ready to begin his recovery from his days as the Winter Soldier, but there’s one thing he doesn’t take into account - you.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, mentions of bad family, needle (briefly mentioned for a second with little detail), a smidge of violence.

Word count: Approx 2400

Masterlist

In this one, Bucky feels terrible about what happened and wants to fix it but he doesn’t know how.

Okay, so we’re just going to admit that Infinity War and End Game didn’t happen and Bucky’s brain had been de blendered by Shuri and for some reason still has his silver arm (sorry that one makes me weak and I always defult to it).

Please don’t hesitate to leave suggestions or thoughts! TAG LISTS ARE OPEN! (My forever list and His Second Chance list)

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“(Y/n)?” Steve knocked on the door a few times. “She even in there?” Sam asked. “FRIDAY said her vitals are reading from her bedroom, so she’s definitely in there, Sam.” Steve nodded, knocking on your door again. “C’mon sweetheart, we just wanna check up on you.” Steve called through the door. “(Y/n), sweetheart, please.” Steve called.

For fuck sake, just leave the poor girl alone. Bucky sat on the floor on top of his mattress, back pressed up against the bed frame with his ear against the wall. He could hear you shuffling about now and again, the odd sniffle and whimper. He could also hear the click clack of your keyboard along with the sound of your mouse, you were drowning them out with a videogame. That sounded like you.

You’re a fucking idiot, the poor girl has locked herself away because of you.

Perhaps you should be the one to coax her out of her room and apologise.

No, she’s terrified of you, it’ll make it worse, you’d be better to just leave.

Don’t leave, you can’t leave her when you haven’t said you’re sorry or said goodbye.

“Can you please, shut the fuck up?” Bucky growled lowly, hitting his head against the wall that separated your rooms.

A thump caught your attention. You knew where it came from, it was Bucky on the other side of that wall, probably beating himself up over the incident. Truthfully, you weren’t scared of him and you might have already forgiven him because you knew it wasn’t really Bucky that meant to scare you or hurt you, it was the voice in his head, the damage Hydra did to him that caused it. “(Y/n), open up!” Sam was taking a turn at your door now and you let out a deep sigh.

Getting up from your swivel chair at your desk, you padded over to the wall and sat on the floor, pressing your ear up against it, your hand coming up to rest against the wall. “Bucky?” You whimpered out.

Bucky heard you on the other side of the wall. He even considered ignoring you for a moment but knew you had come to him and it wasn’t fair to ignore you. “(Y/n).” Bucky sighed your name out, wondering if you’d even heard him. “I’m sorry.” He apologised, a bit louder this time. “I’m so sorry.” Bucky clutched at his long brown hair, pulling on it a bit too hard, the hurt eased the pain in his chest. So goddamn sorry. “I’m sorry too.” Came your little voice, confusing Bucky. What? Why is she sorry? You’re the one who fucked it all up. “I pushed you too far too fast.” You went on. “Please don’t be sad.” Bucky blurted out. “It wasn’t you. I promise it wasn’t you.” Bucky pulled his hair a bit tighter, squeezing his eyes shut.

“It wasn’t you. I promise it wasn’t you.” Bucky sounded so desperate, so broken. You let out a sigh and sat in silence for a moment. “(Y/n), please open the door!” Sam was getting exasperated. “Sam, calmly, she’s not gonna open the door if you shout at her.” Steve started squabbling with Sam. “Well I know better; she’ll open the goddamn door if I’m out here long enough.” Sam argued. “No, she won’t, she’ll answer the door if we’re gentle with her.” Steve started going into protective Steve mode and putting on his Cap voice. “Don’t coddle her, she ain’t a child.” The two of them continued arguing and you heard a pained groan from the other side of the wall. I feel you.

Getting up from the floor, you padded over to the door and swung it open quickly. Both soldiers paused and looked at you, Sam looked terrified as you gave them both a death glare. “(Y/n).” Steve began, voice gentle. “Are you alright?” He asked. “Does she look alright to you? Cause she looks like she’s about to gut us both.” Sam pointed at you. “I just want to rest, please.” You sounded exasperated, exhausted from the anxiety and the entire situation. Without saying anything, Steve nodded and pulled Sam back from the door before you shrunk back into your room and collapsed on your bed. A muffled, “Thank you.” Could be heard from the other side of the wall as the silence set in and you began to fall asleep.

“C’mon Buck, it’ll be good for you!” Steve exclaimed while Bucky rubbed the bridge of his nose. “No.” He replied simply in an frustrated tone. “Please Buck, it’ll help, I promise.” Steve tried to pull Bucky along by the hand the way that you did, but he wasn’t having any of it. “No, I’m not seeing some therapist.” Bucky protested, yanking his hand away.

I don’t want to see a therapist; I want to see (Y/n) and apologise properly.

“No, it’ll help if you go see this therapist about the voice in your head.” Steve encouraged. “It won’t just help you, but it’ll help your little girlfriend too.” Sam teased. “Not my girlfriend.” Bucky growled. I wish she was though; I wish I could kiss her and hug her, tell her how wonderful she is, make lov- Nope, no, now is not the time to think about that!

“Whatever you say pal. Look, just think about it, alright?” Steve sighed, giving him a sympathetic smile and handing Bucky the business card for the therapist he was recommending. “She’s helped a few of the others too, helped Wanda and Pietro process everything that happened after Ultron, helped Tony with his anxiety, she’s helped Bruce with his anger, I’m sure she can do the same for that voice in here.” Steve poked the side of Bucky’s head before backing away and leaving it at that.

Maybe it was worth a shot, if she could help stop the voices so you could think fucking rationally for once.

Bucky sighed and stared down at the little paper in his hand before retreating back to his room.

***

“Here, it’ll make you feel better.” A woman who resembled an older version of you leant over your tired body. “It might hurt a little, only for a second.” She smiled gently down at you. “No, please.” You half heartedly protested, too drugged up and sleepy to respond properly. “Darling, it only lasts a second.” She smiled, holding up the needle before slowly approaching your arm. “Stop.” You begged, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Stop!” Your yelling was useless, body limp, heavy and difficult to move as the needle went into your arm. Oh god. It burned, it burned so much.

A blood curdling scream ripped through your throat as you burned from the inside out. “Should’ve knocked her out completely before we did it.” The woman sighed, watching you wriggle and writhe under the straps that held you down onto the workbench. “It’s in her, give up the cash.” She held out her hand. “Not yet, I want to see it work once it’s set in, then you get the money.” An older man stood next to her, dressed in a tan suit. “That wasn’t part of the deal, Pierce.” She sneered. “It is now.”

“You’re worthless! A freak! An experiment!”

“You injected me with it!”

“Shut up! You worthless child, I did it for the money, not you!” Your mother screamed you down as you cowered in the corner. “You’re tainted, ruined, a failed test!” She raised her voice, throwing kitchen utensils at you with every word. “That’s all I am to you?” You screamed back. “That’s all you ever were!” She responded, chucking a knife at you, but you were too fast, your abilities kicking in. The knife stopped short of your chest, only by a few centimetres.

You saw red, your mother had just tried to kill you.

“Your father left because of you!” She went on as you used your fingers to manipulate the energy field that held the knife still in front of you, twisting the knife around without even touching it. Her eyes went wide and you stared her down. “Don’t talk about dad.” You growled. “Dad left because he couldn’t stand the thought of you taking money from Hydra so they could use their experimental serum on me.” You frowned. “He hated you for it! He hated what you became.” She screamed.

“So did you.” And with the flick of your wrist, the knife hurtled towards your mother, the blade narrowly missing her face and smashing through the wall behind her with the force of energy you put behind it. She screamed, stumbling back from the force and ducked as rubble cascaded down onto her and when she looked up, you were gone.

***

You came bolt awake in a cold sweat, heaving for breath, the voices replaying in your mind a few times. “Asshole.” You whispered as shook your head of the memory and sat up to look at the time. Three o’clock in the morning. It wasn’t like you were going to be able to get back to sleep, so you decided to get up and do something with yourself.

With a pounding headache, you left your room in search of something to quell the pain. As you walked down the corridor, you realised the living room light was on still and you naturally assumed one of the boys had forgotten to turn it off. But as you entered the living room, you saw Bucky sitting hunched over on the edge of the sofa, looking up at your sudden arrival like a deer in the headlights.

“Bucky.” You whispered. “What are you doing up so late- early- I don’t know.” You dropped your forehead into your hand and rubbed where the headache pulsed. It felt like your brain was two sizes too big for your skull. “Uh.” Bucky looked confused for a second. “Could ask you the same thing.” He responded simply. “(Y/n), I, uh. God, fuck me.” Bucky rubbed his face with his hands. “Can I sit next to you?” You asked, hesitantly taking a step towards him. “No.” Bucky face palmed. “Yes, please.” He almost squeaked out. Oh my god, you are so confusing Barnes. “That’s a yes or no answer question, not both.” You stated with a small smile on your lips. “Sorry, yes, please sit.” Bucky patted the seat next to him. God you’re bad at this, can’t even answer a yes or no answer question properly.

Bucky flinched when you approached and sat down next to him. “I’m not going to hurt you.” You tried to reassure him. “I know that.” Bucky nodded, leaning away from you. “I’m scared to hurt you, though.” Bucky dropped his voice into a whisper. A look of realisation crossed your features for a second. Wow you actually admitted that out loud, not sure if that’s good or bad, Barnes. Please don’t take it the wrong way, please. “You can’t hurt me, Bucky.” You gave him a small, sweet, reassuring smile as you looked up into his bright blue eyes. “I promise.” You did a quick demonstration of your abilities by plucking the piece of paper from between his fingers with your energy. Bucky stared at you for a second, completely dumbfounded. WhaAAT? This whole time she could make things fucking float? “Holy shi- you’re enhanced?” Bucky’s voice peaked. This is mildly terrifying. You smirked, pulling the card into your hands with your energy field. “I suppose you could call it that.” You shrug.

Your eyes look down at the little paper. A business card. It was the therapist you’d seen around that Wanda had mentioned a few times to you. “Steve set you up with her?” You ask, holding up the card with your hands this time before handing it back to him. “Yeah, wants me to go and see her.” Bucky sighed. “Think it’ll help?” You ask, sitting back against the soft cushions as you watched Bucky visibly relax a bit. “I don’t know.” He shrugged, following your lead and leaning back against the sofa. You reached out and hovered your hand over his flesh one, waiting for his approval to take it. Bucky intertwined his fingers with yours, his eyes fixed on your gentle gaze. “What do you think?” Bucky asked. Did you really just ask her opinion? Is that going to help? Oh god, she’s going to try and persuade you to do it. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, Steve might do that, but I’m not Steve.” You paused for breath. “Do you have anything to lose? The worst that will happen is that it won’t work or that you’re not ready to try it, that’s not going to hurt or kill you. But it’s ultimately your decision, Bucky.” You squeezed his hand a little. Bucky huffed.

She’s right. She’s so fucking right. What have you got to lose? Her… But going to a therapist is doing the opposite of putting her in danger.

Should listen to her more often.

“Maybe you’re right.” Bucky sighed. No, she is right you idiot. “No, you’re definitely right.” Bucky corrected himself. Good. You smiled up at him, not a ‘see I told you so’ sort of smug smile, no. It was a sweet, encouraging, gentle smile. Your cheeks warmed with a dusting of pink blush as you gazed up into his soft blue eyes. Oh god, she’s melting me. I’m melting. How does she do that? How are you so wrapped around her little finger? It’s that smile, that sweet little smile. Or the eyes, that’s probably it.

No, it’s her, it’s all of her.

“I’ll do it, for you.” Bucky whispered. Oh no, did you just say that out loud? You just said that out loud. Of course you fucking did. Urgh.

Oh but look at the flustered little smile, the blush, the way she’s looking away shyly. Oh so damn cute. Deeep breath. Bucky smiled at you goofily, getting lost in your beautiful features.

He would do it, for you. He knew he could.

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Forever Tag List:

@shygirl-00 @swanlakemikey @scuzmunkie@paintballkid711@lovelylilia @mapreza1 @love-bucky-3000 @cals-cigarette @scarlett-berserker @2407zzz@mercurybarnes @mywinterwolf @geeksareunique @fairislesheets @wendaiii

His Second Chance Tag List:

@socialheartbreak @whatsupbucky @yesno18 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @crystallstaircase @megantje123 @fantua @lady-x-red@buckys-islandgirl@chipilerendi @butteryoptimisticpeanut@wowitsemilysblog @dark-night-sky-99 @marvel-ous-bucky@rand0mfangurlstuff @tfandtws

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fangirlxwritesx67 · 6 years ago

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Not Scared (Dean x reader- request)

Tags: fluff, kidnapping, platonic

A/N This was an ask for @werewolfbarbie Their prompt was "Reader gets kidnapped by deranged hunters and Dean has to go on a solo mission to find her. Focus on the friendship." CAN you believe I wrote 2k words without a single smut?

You woke up with a start and opened your eyes. The room you were in was pitch dark and you were lying on a bed tied down with your wrists locked together. Your first instinct was to scream for help. Then you stopped. That's not what Dean would do. You had no idea where you were or who might hear you, friendly or unfriendly and so you waited. You had a throbbing headache that made it difficult to think but gradually you cast your mind back over how you could have possibly gotten into this situation.

You had been hunting with the Winchesters for several months now. It had started when they solved a case on campus at your college, a monster who was preying on the basketball team. One of the young men that had been killed was your roommate's boyfriend. You were there with her when the Winchesters told her the truth about what was going on. You and your roommate stayed with them while they gave the body a hunter's funeral, burning it to prevent anything else from happening. Sam comforted you're crying roommate while you and Dean kept watch.

You were impressed by his stoic compassion as well as his hunting skills, and when he left town you exchange numbers. For a little while you texted back and forth until one day your phone rang.

"Hey," said Dean, "want to go hunting?" Turns out there was a case in your hometown and the Winchesters were hoping that someone with local knowledge could help them out. You joined them on that case and never looked back. Most recently you had been tracking a case of -well at first you thought they were monsters, but the scenes kept turning up signs that hunters had already been there - rock salt, Devil's traps painted on the wall. You couldn't quite figure out what was going on but they always seemed to stay one step ahead of you. Dean, Sam and you had checked into a crummy motel in this crummy little town last night; the boys taking one room and you taking another. Before bed, you slipped out of your room go to the vending machine for a soda. No sooner had you pressed the button then strong hands grabbed you from behind.

"Help," you screamed, just once before a hand slapped over your mouth and you felt a knife at your throat.

"Scream again," said a voice in your ear, "and I'll cut your throat and leave you for those pretty little Winchester boys to find." Then your world went black.

So that's where you were. Kidnapped and tied up by, well, whoever it was that you had been tracking- monsters, hunters, both? Carefully, so as not to upset your pounding head, you turned and looked around the room. The only thing you could see was a tiny sliver of light under the door. You flexed your arms and legs, testing the strength of the bindings. It seems like you were strapped down with wide canvas straps across your hips, chest and feet while your hands were bound together with a piece of rope. You reached as far as you could but couldn't find any hope of freeing yourself. Just then the door opened and you started. A man flicked on a little lamp, and the golden light sent bolts of pain thru your head.

"I thought you were awake," he said. As he drew closer, you could see he was about the same age as the Winchesters. He looked rugged and strong, but an ugly sneer twisted his face. "I'm surprised I didn't hear you screaming."

"I'm not screaming because I'm not scared," you said, even though you were terrified.

"Not scared?" He asked with an evil chuckle. "I've kidnapped you and tied you to a bed in a dark room. How are you not scared?!"

"Dean will come for me," you told him, setting your chin defiantly.

"Yes he will, and that's exactly what we're counting on- Dean Winchester will come for his pretty little toy and then I will have my revenge."

"So this is what this is all about," the pieces started to come together in your head. "All of these killings- it's just been a way to get Dean Winchester's attention?"

The man clenched his fists angrily. "Dean Winchester got my brother killed in a hunt years ago. And damned if I won't have my revenge."

"How do you know it will work?" "Dean Winchester is the best in the business. Trust me, every hunter follows his methods. It was pretty easy to get him interested in monster killings and then I just waited for the right opportunity to snatch you up." "That's a lot of innocent people you killed to get back at one man," you said.

"My brother was innocent too, and because of Dean he's dead." The man turned on his heels and left, slamming the door behind him.

A few minutes later, an older man came in with a plate of food that he set on the floor. He told you he would free your hands and chest so you could eat, as long as you didnt attack him. Seeing as you had little choice, you agreed. Right now you didn't have any strategy for escape. You figured you would find out as much as you could and then before you made your move. And hope that Dean got here soon.

"So is it just you and the angry guy? You asked as you ate. This hunter scoffed.

"He has plenty of reason to be angry and it's none of your business how many of us there are." Still you knew from that answered that it was at least more than two hunters. Your odds weren't great. But then again what had he said? Dean Winchester was the best hunter in the business.

It was hard to tell exactly how long you had been there, especially since you didn't know how long you had been blacked out. You guessed it hadn't been more than a day. But it was hard to say. Eventually the older hunter came back to take your plate. You hated to have to say it but you really really really needed to use the bathroom

"I have to ask," he said. Eventually he came back. "You can go, he said but I'm going to keep your hands tied together in front of you and dont look around or try anything." When he led out out, you blinked in the early evening light. Your instincts had been good about the day. Even with your head down, you could make out enough to see that there were several more people in this hunters pack. When you got back to the room, he commanded you to lay down on the bed and tied you back up.

"I'm not scared," you said "just please leave the light on." He paused then nodded before he shut the door. For one thing you didn't want to be stuck in the dark again. But you also hoped that when Dean came for you, he would see the light under the door and know where to find you.

For what felt like hours, you lay away, unable to do anything but stare at the ceiling. You couldn't get comfortable, of course, and deep down inside, you had to admit that you were scared. What if Dean never found you? What if these hunters grew cruel? What if Dean did make it to you, but was hurt- or worse?? You would have to live knowing that it was your fault.

You couldn't think about Dean, tho, without amazing memories flooding in- all the crazy adventures of the hunters life you shared. He was fiercly protective of his family, but funny and even goofy when he felt safe. And he loved to cook as much as he loved to eat. He was a wonderful man to fight, work and live alongside. Of course, alone in the dark, you did have to admit that you wondered if there would ever be more between you. For everything else, Dean was gorgeous- tall and ripped, with a handsome face. More than once you had wondered what it would be like to feel his pouty lips on yours. Lulled by good memories and sweet dreams, you must have drifted off.

You started awake to the sounds of fighting. Your heart lept with hope and fear. Had Dean come for you? Were things about to get worse- or would you be rescued? You couldn't tell. Finally you decided to take a risk.

"Dean," you shouted, "Dean!"

You heard him shout your name in response and you called back to him.

"I'm here for you; hang on," his voice was deep and he was breathing hard as he fought.

Dean was here! He had found you! But how many men did he have to fight through to get to you?? From the sounds of the fighting, it was several. Suddenly there was a loud crack then silence. You held your breath.

The door creaked open and the soft lamplight illuminated Dean's strong jaw and high cheekbones.

"Dean!" you cried. For just a moment, he sagged against the doorframe with relief, and your name crossed his lips with a sighn. With two long bow-legged strides, he crossed the room to you. His knife made short work of your captivity, and then you were in his arms. You leaned into the comfort of his embrace.

After a moment, Dean gathered himself. "Are you hurt?" He began to pat you down in a methodical way, checking for injury. You shook your head.

"No Dean, they just wanted to use me as bait for you. I'm not hurt at all. I'm just-" suddenly you felt tears in your eyes- "just scared."

"Hey you" said Dean, using one hand to press your forehead to his, "didn't you know I'd come to rescue you?"

You nodded, time seemed to slow in the golden lamplight, just you and Dean in each others arms. For a moment, all you needed was the warm of his body against yours and the comfort of his presence.

After a moment, Dean stood up and held out one hand. Throwing his leather jacket over your shoulders, he warned you not to look as he led you out of the room and eventually, outside.

Once you were in the Impala and headed down the road, you felt some of your tension slide away. The relief brought tears to your eyes again. You had known Dean would come for you.

"Hey," Dean said putting one big hand on your knee, "None of that now. You're okay, and that's what matters. No matter how many deranged hunters I have to fight through, I'll always find you. You know that, right?"

You nodded, wiping away the tears hard. Dean reached for the radio and turned it up. Led Zeppelin, his favorite. He began to sing along, first in that goofy way that never failed to make you giggle. Then his voice grew deeper as he began to really sing, belting out the words in a way you had never heard before.

You reached for Dean's hand. He took it and your fingers laced together on the leather seat of the Impala. You leaned your head back and smiled, in spite of everything. You were with Dean, and you were headed home.

#fangirlxwritesx67 #supernatural fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester #not scared #reader request

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sup-hoes-its-me · 6 years ago

Text

Intertwined (Jack x Reader)

A/N: sup. Its me, kelly, back again with another one shot. Supernatural this time, which I just picked up again after taking a long break after season 11. I just love jack so much he is a cutie and i needed a fluffy soulmate au with him since there arent enough. Thanks and enjoy reading!!!!

word count: 5, 500~

The bell was loud and overwhelming in my skull as I sat in the very back of the class next to the speaker. Not to mention the teacher yelled all his instructions and the students all screamed when the dismissal bell was sounded. It was the same every single day to the point where I never got a break from my migraines. Everyone was just so fucking loud.

Today was exceptional, though. I felt like screaming. My head ached so terribly, it felt like I was dying. Each and every little sound to ring out made me want to shout with pain, or slit my throat just to end it all. It got to the point where it felt like needles were stabbing into each inch of my skull.

During lunch, I went into the locker rooms and cried. I held my head in my hands in the echo of the room and sobbed for no one but me to hear.

The pain. It was too much. I’m not weak. I deal with these on a daily basis, but...this was too much for anyone, not even the strongest human alive.

By fourth period I was convinced my head was about to explode. My heart beat rapidly against my ribcage, so loudly that I swore the kid beside me could hear. He kept glancing over at me worriedly, and the teacher even asked if I was doing okay; if I needed to get a drink from the water fountain.

Turns out I had sweat running down my forehead like the falls.

I just stayed in class, wanting to get through the day. I couldn’t go home early. I didn’t have a car, number one; secondly, my father would have my head on a stick for leaving school. He didn’t believe in my migraines, or any of my issues at all. He was the “suck it up” kinda man that I always despised.

So I did. I bucked up throughout the day until the last bell. I sat in the room until everyone had left, to make sure I didn’t get any unwanted attention. The teacher even left before me, thinking that my head on the desk indicated I’d fallen asleep. Frankly, he didn’t care if I caught my bus or not. Bastard.

I caught my breath as I stood up, or I tried to. It got caught in my throat. I choked on air, clutching at my neck. Was I going into anaphylactic shock, I thought miserably. I fell to the ground with a thud, my head knocking painfully against the metal chair leg. The ground was cold against my skin, and hard on my burning temples.

I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t make a sound; my throat was shut. All I could do was, what I assumed, die. I was in agony and dying alone in a cold, dusty history classroom.

The room faded to black around me. There was nothing to be done now. I was a goner.

_________________________________________

“Are you sure she’s alive?” a deep, rough voice asked through my blurred thoughts. I couldn’t move or see, but I heard it.

“Yes, Dean. She has a pulse,” another man sighed deeply, and I felt he was close. Heat from someone was radiating around me, and I was scared. These men, they didn’t sound professional, like doctors. Nor did this area smell clean, like a hospital. It was musty and antique, and their voices were coarse.

But it was so warm. Wherever I was was comforting and warm. There was also something draped over me, soft and furry. I prayed it was a blanket.

The best I could do was a low croak like noise from my lips, and a flicker of my lashes. “Hello?” I rasped, my eyes flashing open for a moment using most of my strength. I caught sight, for the shortest second of a very attractive man standing to my side, staring down at me with what I felt were familiar green eyes.

But I noticed one thing. My headache was dull. It was barely even there. I could have cried in relief. After weeks of relentless pain, it was nearly gone.

Something happened. Something big had to have changed in me. Or I was on strong drugs. I couldn’t be sure at the moment.

“Hey,” the second voice called, a bit more concerned than anything. “ Hey, she’s waking up.”

I pushed myself up onto my elbow and rubbed my eyes with my other hand, wiping away the mucky crust along my lashes keeping them shut. Slowly, I cracked my eyes open to see that I was indeed in a place far from a hospital, surrounded by three men who strongly differed doctors at all.

Two big men in flannel surrounded my bedside while a dark haired man in a suspicious coat stood at the foot of my bed, his eyes staring right into mine, as if he was seeing into my mind and soul. I already hated it, the mind digging they seemed to be doing without even muttering a word to me.

“Who the fuck are you?”

What a starting question, I scoffed. I glared up at the man with the green eyes, whom I still considered very familiar. In fact, this entire thing seemed like a vague memory. I’d never met these men, I knew that for a fact...but I remembered them. I know that makes no sense, and I sound insane, but I just...I’ve seen them before and heard their voices and I’ve seen this room. Dammit.

“I’m Y/N?”

“No, I asked who the-”

“Dean, that is enough. She won’t tell you anything if you just scream at her,” the man at the edge of the bed said. He seemed wise, but his voice was so low and gruff, like a chainsmoker’s. Now, I knew for a fact I’d listened to his voice time and time again, but I couldn’t fucking place it. It was on the tip of my tongue. Hearing him speak again only heightened that sense, “She appears to only be a child,” he spoke softly.

The man by my side, with longer brown hair nodded and placed a hand near mine, his huge goliath hands which I just realised could easily surround my neck and snap it if he so chose to. I was vulnerable, and these men were terrifyingly large and intimidating, with their strong voices and their big hands and broad shoulders.

I was in deep shit now. Dammit, Y/N.

“We just need to know who you are. Tell us and we won’t hurt you...Y/N.”

I was starting to like this kinder one, the one with the big hands and the long hair. He seemed smart, reasonable in a way. The other one was irrational and loud, so abrupt that it scared me. This whole situation wasn’t a bit comforting, but he was a big fear factor.

My eyes scanned over all of them and down to my body. I was nestled in a blanket, a big fluffy brown one which was no doubt conserving all my body heat. My bangs stuck to my forehead, sweat drenching them, so I quickly took my hand and swiped them back behind my ear to rid the sticky feeling.

When I was done looking around, my eyes slid to my lap. “I-I don’t know what to say. I’m just Y/N L/N, I swear.”

“Fine. What are you?” the rude man piped up this time, seemingly done with my shit even though I’d only been awake for like, a minute tops.

I gaped at him like a fish out of water. What the hell did that mean? “H-Human... Is there anything else?” I whimpered. My ears were burning red under their assuming glares. What if they thought I was lying? Would they torture me? I felt my heart race and my breaths get caught in my throat.

Don’t do this now, Y/N. Hyperventilating will only make me seem guilty of something.

“Listen, somehow you got into this bunker, which we thought was impossible. You being human doesn’t explain much.”

“I don’t know how I got here at all. I kinda assumed when I woke up and saw strange men that I was kidnapped because the last thing I remember is passing out on the floor of my AP World class and just...I-I...I’m sorry-” I choked on my last few words, my rambling having come to a quick, sad stop. I pressed one of my hands to my lips to keep in my sobs. I didn’t want them to get angry at me.

I was just so terrified. I was in a foreign place being threatened for the first time in my life. I couldn’t do a thing about the upcoming tears to rush over.

Then, to make matters worse, water was splashed in my face.

“Dean, seriously, what the hell? She’s really scared, dude!”

“Well, we know she’s not a demon.”

“DEMON?” I cried loudly, my eyes going as wide as saucers. I pressed my face into both of my palms and practically screamed into them. Was this what hell was? Being kidnapped and accused by these men, and then mention of real demons?

A gentle hand placed itself on my shoulder, and I peered over through my fingers to see the man at the edge of my bed earlier, the one in the sketchy coat. “Please, stop crying. As long as you explain to us everything in detail, we can make sure you are safe. Even so, we can’t hurt you. You obviously have some ability that even you may be unaware of,” he said calmly.

I bit my lip, small whines leaving through my teeth. Tears still fell down my face, but I felt soothed by his presence by my side. There was something different about him. At this point, I had forgotten about my aching migraine and was completely focused on him. His eyes had stolen every bit of my attention.

“I’m just a senior in high school. The last thing I remember is having a really bad migraine and my throat closing up. I think I hit my head on my chair when I fell on the floor. After that, it just all turned to black. I-I swear to you, I was in my history class before this,” I took a deep breath. “I really have no idea where I am or who you guys are. I’d literally rather be anywhere then here right now, trust me. I’m not a threat. If anything, I’m scared he’s going to kill me.”

I nudged my head in the direction of the aggressor at hand. He growled, his arms crossed over his chest after the other man had scolded him.

“This is perplexing, to say the least.”

The kind one scanned over my quivering form once again, his puppy like eyes showing only sympathy for my case. “Could she possibly be under a spell? Rowena and her coven is growing,” he suggested. Now he was talking about spells and covens. This couldn’t be real, I thought to myself over and over. I had to be in a dream, or going insane. This had to be it. Maybe I was dead. Maybe that’s what this was about.

“It could be why, but that doesn’t explain why Rowena would want to send a random teenage girl into our bunker. She’s obviously weak and harmless.”

“Looks are deceiving. Her soul is incredibly strong. Although it is not big, it is very intense and bright,” trench coat man sighed, standing as stiff as before. “Her soul is almost acting as if its looking for something.”

I took a breath, one brave deep breath before speaking. “If I’m going to be here, can you at least tell me who you are. You all are shady enough, talking about spells and demons, you know,” I muttered, fiddling with my hands in my lap, tugging on the fur of the blanket.

“Should we really-”

“I’m Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean,” he pointed to green eyes with a stressed smile. “That is our friend Castiel. This may come off as strange to you, but we are hunters. Of the supernatural.”

And suddenly, it all clicked in my head.

Sam and Dean. Castiel. Hunters. Demons. All of it. It made sense. Even the fucking flannel shirts all over the place.

Supernatural.

I placed a hand over my eyes and groaned loudly. “This can’t be happening to me. No fucking way. No way. Nope. God, no.” Supernatural was a tv show that I watched in middle school. That was it. There was nothing real about it. These guys were actors. I stopped watching it around season 10, and there was no fucking way these dudes magically became real.

“What’s wrong? Did you remember something?”

I wouldn’t look at them. It would only prove to me how much they really looked like the characters. Dean Winchester with those intense green eyes and strong jaw. His brother Sam, tall and handsome with that long hair and soft smile. And my favorite character, Castiel, the not-so-perfect angel with piercing blue eyes and a strange voice.

With a huff, I mumbled, “It’s just, you guys can’t be real. I have to be dreaming.”

“Can’t be real?”

“Yeah. What’s that supposed to mean, kid?” Dean asked me. I felt like my chest would explode at any moment from the pressure. The Dean Winchester was speaking to me, directly, calling me ‘kid’ and everything.

Finally, after a moment of deliberation, I dropped my hand from my eyes and peered at the men. They were exactly how I remembered them on late night television, watching reruns with my mother. “I’m not sure how this works, but well, you guys, in my world, are from a tv show. It’s called Supernatural, and it’s about your lives and I know everything about you.”

“Bizarro world?! You’ve got to be kidding me! How did she end up here?”

Before anyone could start arguing over me, a soft voice broke the silence. It was not my own, instead, it was from the doorway. We all glanced over to be met with the curious eyes of a boy around my age. He had soft brown locks and dark green eyes, and they stared right into mine.

My headache was gone. I barely noticed its final passing but it had dissipated in less than a second. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I was caught in a net by this boy. I couldn’t bring my eyes away from his, nor did he seem to want to look away from mine.

“I just wanted to know if the girl was doing okay…” he said softly as he entered the room. Something was beckoning him to come closer. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to feel him beneath my fingertips and in my palms. He was handsome, but more importantly, he made my chest feel lighter than air and my mind to drift into utter peace. I felt enlightened, in a way.

“She’s fine, but you really shouldn’t be in here. It’s not safe,” Sam told him, only to be shot down.

Castiel held up a firm hand. His voice was quiet, but I could hear him. He was very serious. “It’s fine, Sam. Let him come closer.” And so the boy did. He drifted through the room until he stood at the very foot of my bed. He was even more beautiful up close, and his presence felt like pure heaven.

“Hi, I’m Jack.”

“Y/N.”

And just like that, I was sucked in completely. There was no getting myself out of his vortex that absorbed me. It was too strong. I felt connected to him, and not in the childish way. Not in a humanly way. It was a foreign type of bond formed so purely, through words and shared eye contact.

Castiel’s eyes flicked between us, almost in a calculating way. He was analyzing something. I felt subconsciously that I should be asking him if something was wrong, yet I couldn’t tear myself away from this boy yet. Jack, a character I had yet to see on the show; he had such enchanting eyes. I harshly bit my lip and tore away my stare, shutting my eyes tightly.

Get a grip, Y/N.

I turned to the angel at my side. “What are you thinking? What’s wrong? Do you know why I feel like...well, this?” I waved my hand, as if to show what I meant. I was sure he knew what I was saying. He had that look on his face, the one he got when he was thinking but frustrated.

“It’s your souls. They are intertwined.”

“Excuse me?”

“You and Jack. The reason why you were brought to our universe is because you are, as you humans would call it, ‘Soulmates’,” the man put it as if it were simple. We were soulmates, apparently. I didn’t even know this kid. I was only on season 10 for fuck’s sake. How the hell was I supposed to retain this information?

With my head now hung, I prayed, my lips barely mouthing the words. “Oh, sweet Jesus, help me.”

“Wait, wait. Explain it to me again. They’re soulmates? Those exist?” Sam asked, knocking me out of my thoughts.

He sighed, but nodded. “Not everyone has a soulmate, in fact, they are incredibly rare. It has only happened about ten times in human history, counting this one,” he told us. “It can only happen when a single soul is broken during creation, split between two individuals.”

“So, he reason she has only a fragment of a soul is because Jack has the rest of it?” Dean confirmed.

“Exactly, and the only way the soul can be satisfied is by finding its other piece. Despite being born into different universes, Y/N and Jack have been made of the same soul, an incredibly powerful one,” Castiel finished, his eyes sliding once again between us young people in the room.

Sam let out a hum of approval. “Naturally, the universe has its way of restoring the natural order of things.”

“So, this girl, she’s a normal chick with half a soul.”

“More like an eighth of a soul, but yes.”

That was news to me. I couldn’t bit my tongue any longer. This craziness that these men were spouting was only making me upset and for my stomach to turn. And finding out I barely had a soul was the last straw for keeping my mouth shut. I screeched, “Only an eighth?! You’re telling me I’ve been practically soulless for my entire life?!”

“Yes.”

The boy at my foot smiled shyly, his lips turned up just slightly like he barely knew how to. He spoke in a gentle voice, one that was calm and full of hope. “But it’s okay, right? I can share mine with her now? Since we found each other?” For a moment, I was almost taken completely by his words. Fortunately, I still wore my head.

I flailed my hands in the air wildly, and cried to him, “Why are you so accepting of this, dude? You don’t even know me!”

Again, he smiled, although I could tell he wanted to let it fall. “I know we are meant to be together, and that is really all that matters. I’ve only just met you, but I can feel a connection.”

My heart nearly melted at his kind words, his loving and caring words. No one had ever said something to me that was so meaningful, so innocent either. I wanted to accept him into my heart right then and never let go, but I had to be wary. I was new to this world, that is, if I wasn’t dreaming. Anything could be a threat to me.

“So what does this mean? What do we do with her?”

“Y/N, would you like to stay here with us for now, until we figure this whole thing out?” Sam asked me kindly, unlike his brother, who I could tell was not trusting in the slightest. Not only did I get vibes that he disliked me, but Jack as well. It was a mutual resentment toward both of us.

I sighed. “Do I have a choice?”

No. Of course not.

__________________________________

After I arrived, I soon realized I would stay here much longer than anyone expected. It took months for anyone to actually approach me and say I wouldn’t be sent back to my universe. They expected me to cry. To go into my room and sob about missing my home and my family and all my friends.

But I was glad. I was happy to never have to return back to that hell hole. My father hated me and I had a disturbing lack of friends. The only thing I would miss was my phone, but luckily I was transferred through universes with that stuffed in my jacket pocket.

Basically, I wasn’t bothered a bit that I was never going back to the normal world.

Castiel took me out to buy clothing from the thrift store with what little money that could be spared. I bought things for my bathroom that smelt fresh and clean amongst the intense testosterone overload in the bunker. I painted the walls of my bedroom a dark blue, hung up posters, and got a new comforter with a nice design on it. I fluffed my pillows up and sewed nice cases for them. I even got the chance to fill up my own personal fiction library on the shelf above my bed.

I liked my life in the bunker, after I got adjusted to living with the boys. Sam was easy to be around. As long as you didn’t bother him when he was working out or studying, then you were alright. Castiel thought I was intriguing and often helped me with all my issues, whether they be emotional or even girl ones, which he was clueless about. Dean was harsh and judgemental at first, but after a few weeks of worming my way into his head and soon his heart, I had him wrapped around my little finger.

He even took me out one day to drive Baby, which I knew he didn’t just let anyone do. We had the windows down and the music blaring as I drove down a dirt road with him, laughing and slurping up sugary drinks. He was like the older brother I never had and always wanted.

Jack was different. I felt sick around him, in the best possible way. He made my cheeks turn red from how awkward and cute he was. I adored his soft smiles from across the room. I loved sitting in his room watching movies on late nights when we couldn’t sleep. I liked bringing him to my favorite restaurants and sharing meals, or drinking milkshakes together with two straws like corny couples from old movies.

Except, we weren’t a couple. After a month of being at the bunker, I told Jack that I thought we should just be close friends. Companions, if you want. It was for the best. There was too much drama going on, and getting into a relationship in another universe just felt so overwhelming.

He said it was fine, so I had no idea how it really affected him. I didn’t know, but he was hurting inside.

Our souls craved each other. It was that simple. We were meant to be, but it wasn’t the right time, I decided.

So selfish.

And then I caught myself falling in love with him. Sure, I was young. Barely eighteen years old and just out of high school, but I knew what love was. I could feel it each time my fingers skimmed his, each time he came home from a hunt and I held his face in my palms to gaze in his broken eyes, and each time we lay beside each other in bed watching a movie and I thought of how easily I could kiss him.

I thought about loving him more often than not. But it could never be, I swore to myself. I convinced myself. They say if you repeat something enough times, you begin to believe it.

I sat in the bunker map room at the table, munching on some chips while the boys were off doing whatever. I think they were out of town for a mission, but I didn’t ask where they went as said goodbye. They would be back in a couple days. Yeah, right. Try a week. They always get off track, those damn hunters.

I sipped at my tea, taking a long breath when the warm liquid slid down my throat. It was nice, being at peace like this. Living with people who cared for me, who protected me. Sure, this life wasn’t safe, but it was just comfortable enough for me.

Footsteps creaked the floorboards behind me, and I didn’t turn around. Instead, I waited for his lovely voice to ring out in my ears.

“Y/N. What are you doing up this late?” Jack asked me, coming up to my chair and pressing his hands to the back of it, right above my shoulders. I only smiled and turned to look up at him, my eyes no doubt sparkling. I was so happy, and seeing Jack made everything so much better. He skipped a lot of missions nowadays for safety reasons, and I couldn’t be happier.

That meant he could be with me more.

“I don’t know. Just living a little.”

“Living? Aren’t you always alive-”

I laughed and shook my head at his naivety. Gently, I corrected him, “I mean, I’m doing something different for a change. Drinking tea at midnight and eating junk food in the living room where Sam would normally kick my ass.”

He nodded, as if understanding only partially. So, with that being on his mind, I stood from my spot and whisked myself off to the bookshelf where the old record player also happened to rest. My soft fingers slid along the dusty box as my eyes scanned the thick pile of albums. I spied through them for minute before pulling out my favorite, one that I believed would light up the night.

As the music began to play, I turned around and swung my hair over my shoulder playfully, sending my best friend a flirty smile. We’re just friends, I reminded myself. Only sometimes, you have to live a little; and if that means to flirt with the boy you’re miserably in love with, then so fucking be it.

I swung my hips from side to side as I approached him, my eyes tearing him apart dangerously. He leaned back, not exactly sure what to expect out of his situation. He definitely wasn’t expecting for me to snatch up his hands in my smaller ones and clutch them tightly.

“Y/N-”

“Dance with me. Come on, it’ll be fun,” I giggled, already swinging our arms back and forth. He gave me one more wary look before letting out a sigh and smiling. This made my entire face light up with pure joy. Just seeing him happy and relaxed like this made my entire day, maybe even my whole week. I loved him that much.

I swung his arms back and forth to the beat, slowly pulling him to the center of the empty space so we could move around a bit more. My feet slid along the floor, my fluffy socks helping quite a bit with that.

Eventually, I got lost in the music, in the dance itself. The album kept playing although songs has changed, and we never paused. I laughed along with him as we swung around. I even let go of one of his hands to pull him into an awkward twirl, and an even more ungraceful spin out.

His fingers felt right, curled in mine, locked in that tight embrace that was so familiar yet so forbidden in my eyes. I never wanted the songs to end, just so I could keep him in my grasp.

I felt comfortable until certain words spilled from his lips in the rush of emotions we felt. “Y/N, you look so beautiful when you laugh,” Jack confessed, his cheeks bright red from laughing and moving around for so long. I think, in that moment of bliss, we both forget who we were. What we were supposed to be.

Friends.

I pulled my hands out of his abruptly. “Jack, you know, I-”

“I know.”

And then it was quiet. The needle had run off the record and the album stopped playing. We were officially alone, and it felt painful, like I was being restrained. Was I torturing myself? Possibly. Was my soul aching like a bitch? Definitely.

Who knew loving someone could hurt so fucking bad?

“Castiel and Dean, they always tell me that you will change your mind. That you will come to accept that we are soulmates. You just keep sending me these “mixed signals”. That’s what Dean calls them,” he paused. I’d never heard him be so direct with his emotions, well, the ones he held for me. I had no idea that Castiel and Dean were talking about me to Jack behind my back. I wasn’t angry, just confused.

“I want to know how you feel about me, Y/N.”

I felt my heart drop in my chest. I didn’t think he would be so bold as to ask me that. I hadn’t exactly planned an answer in preparation. I hadn’t prepared a lie.

Even back home, I was never a good liar.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel about you.”

He was quick to argue, hurt crossing his features. “Yes, it does. It matters to me.” I hated that look across his face, the one of pain and loss, rejection. He didn’t deserve that. Jack Kline was too good for me. Too good to belong with someone like me, a normal person with flaws and no special powers.

But, humans are so selfish.

“And if what I said changed everything between us, would you be so desperate to know?”

“Yes, because then I wouldn’t be so confused when you’re with me,” he replied, almost like a child. He made everything seem so simple. Maybe I was overthinking this.

Fuck it.

“Jack, you’re my soulmate. Of course I love you. We’re both young and we’ve never been in love before, but this is real and it’s so intense and dangerous. We could get hurt. I just...I’m so selfish, and I couldn’t keep myself from falling in love with you.”

His smile grew, despite all the negative things I’d said. He heard what he wanted to. He smiled down at me, his hands going to rest on my upper arms. They were so warm, so comforting. I wanted to just collapse in his arms and never get back up. “Castiel said you felt that way,” he chuckled, flashing a bright toothy grin.

My head fell to stare at the floorboards. A grumble escaped my pouting lips, “Dammit, Cas.”

“It’s okay. Dean told me that if you did say that, that I was supposed to do this,” he stated vaguely. I only had enough time to blink before he had leaned down to press his lips to my own. I shut my eyes tight to avoid looking awkwardly into his open ones. He didn’t move. Just stood there against me with his eyes open.

I pushed him off and bit my lip. Admittedly, I wanted to kiss him. Yet, it was obvious Jack had zero experience with kissing.

“Does that mean you love me too?” I questioned.

“Of course. I thought I made it obvious.”

I laughed, shaking my head. Maybe being happier was better than being stable. Risks are meant to be taken after all. Swiftly, I grabbed his wrist and tugged him down the hallway behind me. He followed blindly and before he could open his mouth to ask, I answered.

“We’re going to my room so I can teach you how to kiss me.” He nodded brightly, smile wider than ever. I really loved him, and he really loved me. Our souls intertwined with beautiful flourishing hearts to match.

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dokidoki-tae · 6 years ago

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Oh...I will

It took long but heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere @fremdekonigin

It’s a little different from what i wrote out on top but meh its wuv uwu

Risotto Nero: Risotto had never intended for your relationship to last as long as it has. He became interested in you when he frequented the shop you worked at, always being warm and friendly despite his serious and cold he was. He’d go into your shop to get pastries for himself and the rest of the team during early morning meetings. You were the first shop to open so early in the morning near their HQ, and he really did like your baking. You would always try to make small talk, but he never indulged you, still you always smiled at him and you never asked invasive questioned. He would never admit he enjoyed seeing you.

The first time he spoke to you other than ordering was when you told him, “I really like your cap!” and he responded with a “thank you.” He chuckled to himself when you gaped at him and it didn’t help when it looked like your eyes were going to pop out when he told you to “have a nice day.”

The next time he came, he began to note the little things. Like when your tongue would poke out slightly when you rang him up and when your nose scrunched up at random, and how frequently used your hands to communicate especially when you got excited.

When he finally asked you out, you dropped his box of pastries when you tried to hand it to him. He watched as you turned red and found the right words.

“I-well- Hmgh-Ah-I-Yi-YES!” you stammered.

Since then he’s had you by his side. He didn’t expect it to go as long as it has. He thought about you before officially asking you out, but he did so in order to quell the thoughts you occupied. He thought the more he got to know you, the more likely it was to stop himself from thinking about you; hoping that getting to know you would satisfy the curiosity.

He didn’t expect himself to be in the situation where he had his arm wrapped around your sleeping figure. He watched you as you sleep, even then you still had the smile that captured his heart. He worried about what your relationship could lead to and the dangers, but right now he just wants to do what he can to protect you.

Prosciutto: It all starts to make sense as the night progresses. You weren’t the only one Prosciutto was seeing, he made sure to let you know that you were one of many people he was seeing on the side. He couldn’t read what your look meant when he told you this, but he knew you accepted it when you agreed to go out with him the next day. Tonight, he was with a woman he met on the streets, they got to talking and Prosciutto took her out to dinner. It has been a while since he’s been out with someone who wasn’t you. He always found himself at your place, doing mundane relaxing things. Now he had a gorgeous woman with him, but he found himself daydreaming when she spoke to him. As a self-proclaimed gentleman, Prosciutto chastised himself for being inattentive and forced himself to give her his attention but quickly lost it when his phone went off. He excused himself when he saw it was you.

“Hey, Prosciutto! Are you busy?” you chirped.

He couldn’t help but smile from hearing your voice. “I-,” he stopped himself before proceeding, “I’m just running a few errands for Risotto. Is everything alright?”

“Oh yeah! I just wanted to see if you wanted to come over to watch a movie. Though, I understand if you’ll be too tired later.” You giggled and he chuckled with you.

“I’m never too tired for you, Amore,” Prosciutto expressed. He couldn’t see you but he knew you were blushing at his words as you always did when he was particularly sweet to you.

“I-I-I’ll see you later then! Stay strong!” You wished him before hanging up.

His smile only widened thinking about you, waiting for him to come and welcome him. He felt his heart beat faster and tried to compose himself as he went back to his date. He already came up with an excuse end the night early. He had no guilt, he just wants to be with you as soon as he could.

As dropped his date to her home, his demeanor turned solemn. He knew about the growing feelings he had for you. It was love, and it was a feeling unfit for a gangster. Still, he didn’t want to give up that feeling. He weighs his options, seriously considering ending what he had with you. Those thoughts disappeared as soon as you opened the door and greeted him with a smile.

Pesci: He was having a bad day after being chewed out by the team, minus Risotto who only gave him a grave look, for screwing up on a mission. Pesci knew he messed up and no one would let up and continued to make fun of him and mock him. Prosciutto was more constructive with his criticism but it still hurt.

He locked himself in his room and cried until it was late. As he laid in bed, slowly falling asleep, he got a call from you.

“Pesci! Let’s go out!” There was no question or request. Only demand.

“But-”

“No buts! Meet me near Il Porto Dei Sapori!” And with that, you hung up without so much as an explanation.

Pesci was used to it but he felt himself become irritated mostly after what happened today getting on his nerve.

He peeked out and saw no one was in the living room, probably having retired.

As he tiptoed out, he felt a presence behind him. It was Prosciutto.

“Where are you going? Why are you sneaking around like a common thief?” He began to interrogate

“I-my...[Y/N] asked me to meet them...” Pesci stared at the ground, shifting on his feet shyly.

Prosciutto remained silent for a brief second. “Be back by tomorrow evening.” He stated before returning to his quarters.

Pesci felt his annoyance began to fade as he made his way to you. Once he saw you, his bad mood vanished completely.

“P-E-S-C-I!” You sang. “You’re finally here!” You ran and throw yourself at him. He was a meek person but he was strong; you could never topple him over.

“Why are we here?” Pesci asked, looking around. The streets were basically empty. You only gave him a toothy grin when you took his hand and began walking.

“I just wanted to spend time with you. That’s all.” You leaned into his shoulder as you walked along, squeezing his hand every now and then.

Pesci felt tears building up and threatening to fall.

“I wanted...I needed to see you too.” He rested his head on yours, enjoy the night and each other’s presence.

Formaggio: He doesn't remember the night so well other than you rubbing soothing circles on his back as he vomited violently in the toilet. When he woke up, he took the painkillers that were left on the counter next to him. He was bare aside from his boxers, and his clothes were nowhere in sight.

While he didn’t have many memories as to how he got there, he assumed you picked him up sometime into the night. He recognized your room and bed, having frequented often. He winced from the throbbing he felt in his head and face. He touched his lips and felt it was swollen. He must have gotten in a fight at the bar. Oh well.

“Oh, you’re awake. Are you feeling okay, Maggio?” You stood by the door, looking at him with the same gentle expression as always. He stretched and let out an exaggerated groan.

“I have a small headache, but nothing to worry about,” He sat back and flashed you a flirtatious smirk. “Your presence has helped me the most, Amore.” He opened his arms, suggesting that he wants to hold you.

You giggle at his antics, walking towards him and embracing him. His hands stroked your back and slowly started to move south towards your rear, but he stopped immediately when he felt small droplets fall on his chest and a sob escape your chest.

“What the-Amore, what’s wrong?” Formaggio questioned.

You cried softly, trying to calm yourself to talks without breaking down more.

“I hate seeing you hurt, Maggio. I know you were trying to defend me from those guys, but I would have rathered they continued to harass me than to let them hurt you like they did...” You wiped your tears away.

That’s right. He had gone out with you and he wasn't controlling his drinking like normal while you asked with concern to slow down. Not soon after, some assholes thought it would be cool to harass you and Formaggio was quick to intervene. There were 6 of them and only Formaggio. The fight caused everyone at the bar to run out, having been familiar with Formaggio. While Formaggio took care of them, he was still injured and it hurt your heart.

Formaggio felt like his chest was begin squeeze. Most people have just left him drunk in the alley, sleeping in his own vomit. Here, his s/o worried and took care of him. He pulled you back into an embrace and stroked your hair.

“Amore, don’t ever think like that. I would never allow anyone to disrespect you like that and I will make sure it never happens again. I’d fight all the men in Italy if I have to!” He smiled widely, placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek. He never thought himself a man capable of falling in love, but he guessed he hadn’t yet met you to know for sure and now here he is.

Melone: Melone had been ill. He looked a mess and felt awful. He had been throwing up all day and his stomach was churning. He rarely got sick but when he did, he was incapacitated for a while. When he told you, he didn’t expect you to come to his place in such a hurry. You pushed your way past his team and rushed into his room. You cooed at him and brushed his sweaty bangs from his burning forehead.

“Have you eaten anything, Amore?” You asked.

Melone stared at you in awe, genuinely touched you were there with him. Other people he had been dating or seeing had never shown as much concern as you were now. Even his own team just throw a bottle of cold medicine into his room before slamming it shut. His team watched in amusement from the door as you cared for him.

“I haven’t, tesoro. I’m too weak to get up,” Melone wasn’t lying. His body was killing him and he felt worse when he stood.

“I’m going to make you something that’s easy on the stomach,” you comforted. Melone felt his eyes tinge when he looked up at you and saw your face full of concern. “I’ll take care of you, Amore,” you voiced before giving him a swift kiss, unconcerned about getting sick.

The team stayed out of your way when you rummaged through the kitchen, gathering the ingredients you needed to make Melone his soup. In the meantime, you washed and dried some new sheets for Melone as the food cooked. You switched his old, dirty sheets with fresh clean ones. When the food was ready, you feed him. After, you drew him a bath and helped him wash himself. You both knew he could do it alone, but you wanted to and he let you.

Once back in bed, you laid next to Melone, looking at him lovingly.

“Tesoro?” Melone called.

“Hm?”

“Come closer,” Melone requested and pulled you into a hug as you indulged him. You felt him shake and returned his embrace with much force. “Thank you,” his voice quivered.

“Anything for you.” You whispered.

Illuso: He couldn’t find it in himself to do it anymore. Not without you knowing. Illuso was known by his squad to be nosy and invasive, and that was how he was with you until he began to realize it wasn’t fair to you.

He became interested when you asked him out. He always found bold people interesting and he wanted to humor you. His feelings became more genuine and loved spending time with you. He loved that you laughed at his jokes even though you admitted they were pretty lame but made him even cuter.

He would use his stand to spy on you though, to try and learn about you so he could surprise you with things later.

When he learned you loved sunflowers more than roses based on your home decor, he bought you a bouquet of sunflowers He noticed the way your eyes lite up.

“Illuso, how did you know I loved sunflowers?” you asked happily.

“It was obvious to me, Amore. You are too much like one to not love them,” he winked, causing you to blush and hide behind the bouquet.

He began to note your feels though. He would sometimes talk to you while watching you through Man in the Mirror. He watched your mannerisms as he spoke to you and felt his heart beat faster. The way you blushed and smiled when he talked you made him feel something inside. When your conversation ended, Illuso watched as you hummed and pranced around the house, joyous after your conversation. He began to feel guilty the more he watched, prompting him to leave.

He hasn’t spied on you for a long time now. He wasn’t spontaneous as he had been in the past with gifts, but you never seem to mind. You joked that he only unearthed some of your interests and now guessing what you liked will get harder from here on out.

“I guess you’ve finally hit a snag, huh, Illuso? I’m more mysterious than you think!” You teased. He smirked before nipping your ear leading you yelp.

“Then I can’t wait until you’ve opened yourself to me even more, Amore,” he proclaimed before pressing a kiss onto your forehead.

Ghiaccio: He fought himself on his feelings. When he thought about you and wanting to be around you, he yelled out and did everything to suppress how he felt. He caught himself thinking about you unintentionally all the time. It wouldn’t be so bad if he thought about you in sexual ways. Well, he did, but he thought about the way you smelled and how nice your hand felt around his. He thought about how nice it was to hug you and how beautiful your voice is. He didn’t mind holding your hand in public and only ever scowled with you asked for a kiss in public.

In the past towards the beginning of your dating, Ghiaccio refused to hold your hand and even asked if you were stupid when you asked for a kiss while out together. You were a little surprised by his honestly but accepted it. You apologized to him for making him feel uncomfortable and that was the end of that. You never pushed and respected his space, and in turn, he slowly began to respect you more and more.

While he was interested enough to agree to date you, he always had walls up because of his job. He didn’t want to be too attached, but he made the mistake the moment he agreed to let you even a slight.

He was always calmer when he was by your side. He wouldn’t go into a full blown rant when you slipped up and said some figure of speech. He would rant but never yell. You looked at him in awe when he went on rants, surprised by how knowledgeable he was. The way you looked at him caused something to bubble in him. It felt like butterflies were flying in his stomach. Of course, he wouldn’t call it that because why the fuck would there be butterflies in someone’s stomach. He’d say it’s indigestion.

He knew he was fucked when the first thing in the morning he thought about was you and reached for his phone absentmindedly and called you. You answered with a yawn; he was unable to fight back the smile playing on his lips.

“Ghiaccio? Good morning,” you yawned again.

He thought about how you looked, your disheveled hair, morning breath, the pajamas you were wearing, and the look you had on your face. His stomached flipped again.

“Good morning, Tesoro.” He accepted he was fucked and he was okay with it.

Sorbet: He knew he had fallen the moment he made you stay after spending the night with him and Gelato. In the past, Sorbet was the one who made you leave after sex despite Gelato’s protest because he liked cuddling with you. Sorbet didn’t want to grow attached; Gelato was more than enough for him. But Gelato started to bring you around more and so he reluctantly got to know you more and more. He hated himself for always paying close attention when you mentioned details about your life.

He began to include you in activities normally reserved for him and Gelato. Romantic dinners, walks, movie watching, shopping. In the beginning, Gelato would ask him to call you and ask. Sorbet didn’t question it and just did it. He started calling without so much as being prompted by Gelato. When he realized, he’d glare at Gelato who smiled mischievously.

It was all over when he went to buy a new pair of earring for Gelato for Valentine's day. We found a nice pair and as he was paying, he saw a nice simple necklace he thought would look great on you and matched Gelato’s earrings. Without hesitation, he bought them both.

Gelato’s was shocked when he found out Sorbet asked you to join them on Valentine’s day. He couldn’t contain his excitement. He knew that Sorbet was developing feelings and wanted to encourage it because Gelato felt something for you too.

Sorbet was a pretty serious man, but he was also a romantic. He complimented Gelato’s and your beauty. He kissed his hand and your hand. Everything thing he did to Gelato, he did to you. You were just as included

After dinner, Sorbet wrapped his arms around your waist and Gelato’s shoulder.

“Will you spend the night with us again, Tesoro?” Sorbet purred, pinching your rear. Loving two people might seem selfish, so Sorbet was willing to admit he was a selfish man.

Gelato: You made him too nervous and excited. He was doing the most to impress you. When it comes to others, Gelato rarely makes an effort to leave a good impression. He normally didn’t care about what others thought. He didn’t at first when he met you, but after spending time, he felt himself get more nervous. You were always curious and accepting of the things he said and did, pointing it out to him that it was part of his charm when he asked why you were so accepting.

Your openmindedness appealed to him and he wanted to get to know you more. Sorbet was indifferent, as he was used to Gelato getting close to people. Though, Gelato expected to eventually bore and disappoint him, you never did, not once.

You always knew something he didn’t and said something really profound or just plain ridiculous that left him in awe or staring at you like you were an idiot.

He would wake up every morning, reading to give you a call and go out and do something together. Sorbet could never match his enthusiasm, so he’d tell him to go without him as he always did. He had no intention on meeting you unless Gelato felt it was right.

You and Gelato spend a lot of time out together, and Gelato never grows tired. The moment he sees your face, he’s goes from a 1 to an 11 in terms of energy and can’t stop until he’s plopped into bed next to Sorbet.

You had yet to meet Gelato’s life partner, but when Gelato had asked you, you left butterflies because it told both of you that your relationship was a lot more serious than before.

Gelato is nervous about it all because he wants you both to like each other. While he knows he’s in love with Sorbet, he doesn’t know with you because he’s never felt this way before with Sorbet. When it was with Sorbet, there was hostility then tension then denial then passion. It wasn’t the same, and he wanted to take his time.

But when he introduced you, and Sorbet shook your hand with a small smile. He knew things would eventually turn out okay.

#jjba #risotto nero #prosciutto #pesci #formaggio #melone #illuso #ghiaccio #sorbet #gelato #jojo hcs #pls ignore any and all grammar/spelling mistakes

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shesdreamingofamonster · 7 years ago

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EXO (OT9) - Mafia!AU Reaction to Confessing Their Feelings While They Thought You Were Asleep

As Requested. :)

Minseok:

You always thought he was handsome. But when you found out that you were promised to him from an agreement between families, you were a little bitter. You thought that your father would care enough to let you marry someone whom you love. Here you were, lying in bed, several months after you had officially become Mrs. Kim Minseok. You heard Minseok come into the room, though he was trying to be quiet as to not wake you. With your eyes still closed, you pretended to be asleep, assuming he was tired and not in the mood to talk. You were facing the other direction, so when he got into bed, your back was towards him. You felt that he wasn’t lying down, but sitting, looming over you. Then you felt him kiss the top of your head. “I’m sorry that you got stuck with me. But if it counts, I have ended up falling for you. God, I don’t know how I would be able to tell you when you can actually hear me.” You waited for a moment, letting the words sink in. Minseok loved you. And you, even being forced into this marriage, had grown to care for him too. So, you turned over to meet his shocked expression. You sat up and wrapped your arms around him, “I fell for you too.” His arms came around you, strong and steady. That was the first night you slept in each other’s arms.

Junmyeon:

You were engaged to Junmyeon since birth. You knew that he would be your husband even if you had feelings for someone else. So, you lived a sheltered and lonely life till you got married. He had a tendency to come home very late. You were usually sound asleep when he came to bed, so you never knew if he said anything before. Tonight, you were still awake. You weren’t able to fall asleep for some reason. When he climbed into bed, you felt him softly caress your face. “I never would have imagined being married to an angel like you. I promise that I will protect you and cherish you, even if you don’t want to do the same for me.” You lifted your hand to meet his before opening your eyes. “Who said I don’t?” He smiled widely and moved closer to you. “I love you Y/N.” You smiled and rested your head on his chest, “I love you too.”

Yixing:

The first time you saw him was the day you found out he would be your husband. You were cordial, but very upset. It was around one in the morning when you heard him come home. You heard the bedroom door open and him getting undressed and ready to sleep. You kept your eyes closed, not expecting anything special to happen. But when he got into bed, he kissed your forehead softly. “Sleep well my love. I am sorry that you always seem to go to bed alone. I know you deserve better, but I am glad that you were the one I married.” You kept your eyes closed as you responded, “I am glad that I married you too Yixing.” You felt him move a bit before opening your eyes. “Why did you pretend to be asleep?” “Why won’t you tell me this stuff when I am awake?” You both smiled as he pulled you close. He fell asleep easily, happy to feel comfortable with you.

Baekhyun:

You told your parents that you didn’t want to marry into another mafia family. But when they told you about Baekhyun, you couldn’t say no. They controlled your life, even if you wanted it otherwise. It had been several months since you had become legally married. You told him that you weren’t feeling well and had retired to bed early. Honesty, it is because you had found yourself worrying about him and had gotten a headache. He was working on a dangerous case, but you weren’t going to tell him. It isn’t as if he cared. Hours later, he walked in to check on you. You felt a hand on your forehead but didn’t flinch. “I hope this isn’t from me… I love you Y/N. I don’t want to cause you any harm, physically or mentally.” After he moved his hand to caress your cheek, you brought your hand to his and opened your eyes. “I love you too, that is why I am so worried. I am worried that you won’t be careful.” You almost teared up as you sat up to hold him. “Don’t worry, I will be. For you.” He hugged you tightly as you tried to calm down.

Jongdae:

His devilish smile was the first thing you saw the day you met him. The same day your father signed you over to him and his family. Now it made your heart flutter whenever you saw it, but you planned on never letting him know. After all, neither of you had planned to marry each other. Family pressure makes you do crazy things. You had stayed up dealing with money arrangements between the companies that you had now become a partner in. Dae walked in to find you tucked under the covers. Your hair, which you had neglected to put up, was covering half of your face. He leaned over to clear it off. “I hope you know how much you have come to mean to me. Even if you don’t ever feel the same, I will still love you.” Him entering the house had woken you from your light sleep. A small smile crept over your face as you looked up at him. His eyes widened as you placed your hands on either side of his face. “I do feel the same.” That grin spread over his face right before he leaned down to kiss you.

Chanyeol:

After constantly fighting with your parents, you ended up as Chanyeol’s bride anyways. Although intimidating at first glance, you soon realized that he was not what he seemed. He was always gentle and kind with you, even if you were cold towards him. But he understood your defenses, getting stuck with a man you hardly knew for the rest of your life. You were waiting up for him on the couch while you drifted off. He had been on a business trip for the past week, and you realized just how happy you were when he was home. You had woken up from the sound of the door opening. Still tired, you kept your eyes closed. You figured he would be tired as well. As soon as he saw you laying there, he grabbed a blanket and draped it over you. “My Y/N, why are you out here?” Mumbling to himself, he smiled fondly at you. “This only makes me love you more.” Unable to keep quiet any longer, you opened your eyes. He jumped back a bit but regained his composure. “You love me too?” You sat up to be eye level with his sitting form. When he processed the last word, he pulled you close, your lips meeting. After spending some time catching up and cuddling on the couch he picked you up bridal style. “Let’s go to bed.”

Kyungsoo:

You had to admit that he was handsome, but when you first met him, you were terrified. His silent demeanor and somewhat menacing stare due to poor eyesight made him seem unkind. After spending day and night with him for a few months, you realized that was not true. But you still haven’t had intimate moments with him. He didn’t force you into anything just because you were married. Tonight, you were lonely, so you tried to watch a movie to fill up your time. You had drifted off during the middle of it, and he walked in during the final scene. A sad ending where one of the couple ended up passing away tragically. He realized the true potential of that happening with him as he turned off the television. Bending over to place a soft kiss on your temple, he spoke quietly. “I hope to never put you through that. I love you too much” When he pulled away to find you looking at him with a smile, he was shocked but also relieved. “You could have told me that earlier.” You giggled as you repeated the three words to him. He sat down to hold you, not worrying about changing out of his business attire.

Jongin:

You had grown up around his family, but you had never found yourself in the position of falling for him. That is until your parents made an agreement joining your families together by their eldest children. You had seen him be cold and cruel when dealing with business. But you had also seen him be sweet and caring with your siblings and the animals that resided in his family home. After living with him, you understood the driving force between his actions. He only wanted what is best for those that he loved. He had recently purchased you a puppy to keep you company when he was away. Your eyelids became heavier as she nuzzled up onto your chest, ready to sleep herself. Too tired to move from the couch, you stayed. Jongin came in a couple hours later, surprised to find you there. Noticing your closed eyes, he tried to take his bags through the house quietly. Your pup popped her head up when she saw him. Setting his bags down, he moved to pick her up and keep her from waking you. You could hear the ruckus, but were too tired to open your eyes. “She is easy to love right? Now you need to keep her company on days like this. I hate to leave her.” She gave a soft whine as he placed her on the ground. You sat up slowly rubbing your eyes. “This isn’t a dream?” You laughed as you shot up to hug him. “I love you too. And I appreciate her, she is adorable.” He held you tightly, “You are adorable too. I always thought so.”

Sehun:

This life wasn’t easy. Neither was being married to a stranger. Let alone one you heard stories of. How he had killed people in the dead of the night to get things that were owed to him. Of course, you understood, but you never heard of your father doing that. Soon after being married, you knew that he was misinterpreted. He was just a young man who cared about protecting the things that are important. If anyone was harmed, it was because they got in the way or threatened those beliefs. You were wrapped up in the sheets of your king-sized bed in and out of sleep. He went out to make a deal in the middle of the night, leaving you worried. You didn’t think he knew, or found you as one of those important things in his life. But when he returned to find you asleep, he carefully slid under the covers and covered your hand with his own. “I wouldn’t let them take you away from me. Don’t worry, you are something I value over all.” Your eyes fluttered open after hearing his words. You turned to caress his cheek and he leaned into your palm. Moments later he was pressing his lips against your own.

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lopithecusfanfiction · 7 years ago

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A Life So Changed: Chapter Sixty-Three

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2528 Alternate: AO3, fanfiction.net Author's Note: Thank you all for being patient with me when it comes to updating this. Remember, updates will come once a month (i.e. this is August’s update. The next one won’t be until sometime in September.) Enjoy!

Bruce doesn’t sleep that night. He lies there, awake in bed, one hand on his stomach and the other clutching Clark’s lightly. Clark is pressed against his back, heat radiating off the man. The Kryptonian doesn’t sleep either but neither of them talk. They stay muted for the whole night with Clark holding him as if he can protect him from Bruce’s own body.

When the first sign of light starts shining through from between the curtains, they both begin stirring. Bruce stretches out some, achy muscles having been in one spot for too long. Clark watches him, frown on his face, and still says nothing. Bruce turns to face him.

“We need to talk about this,” he finally says in the quiet of the room. His voice sounds too loud. He can feel a dull ache starting in his head.

He sees Clark swallow. “I know.”

Bruce sits up a little, propping a pillow under him. Clark’s hand comes to rest on his baby bump. “We need to figure out a way to save Lara.”

“And you,” Clark mumbles, hand rubbing small circles.

Bruce frowns. He’ll have to address that late in the conversation but for right now, their kids, including Lara, are top priority. “Maybe you can try looking for something in the Fortress. Something to make childbirth easier on her.”

“You know,” Clark starts, resting his head on his arm. “I was thinking, once you are far enough along in the pregnancy, maybe we could have labor induced. That way you’ll be rid of the Kryptonian genes sooner.”

“Clark, that won’t help.” The alpha frowns. “It’s the strain of childbirth that is going to kill us because we both are too weak. Having Lara early isn’t going to change that.”

Clark sits up. “But if you have her early, then you will be less weak than you would be if you had her at full term.”

“Clark, no!” Bruce protests. “I’m not having her early. I’m not making that decision. If I can, I won’t to carry her for the full term of pregnancy.”

“But-”

“Clark, I said no!” Clark is still frowning and the alpha looks away. “Okay,” he says softly, voice sounding defeated. “What about a cesarean section?”

“A C section?” Bruce asks, confused. “Why?”

Clark finally meets his eyes. “You wouldn’t have to go through the strain of childbirth. They would just… take Lara out, sow you back up, and be done with it. No more Kryptonian attacking your body and no more rejection from your body. Simple as that.” The alpha shrugs. “Plus, it’s not like you don’t have scars now. What’s one more?”

Bruce thinks about. It might just work, as long as he is strong enough to survive the surgery. “We’ll see. I’ll ask Leslie about it.” Clark nods, looking down at the bed again. “There’s another thing we need to do.” Clark’s eyes flit up to him before they descend back to the bed. “You need tell Kara and Conner. Obviously Conner and Tim aren’t planning on having kids any time soon but I don’t know about Kara and Barbara. Kara especially, Clark. She’s full Kryptonian. Where Conner has a fifty fifty chance of spreading those genes, Kara’s is guaranteed. We can’t let either of them make that mistake.”

Clark’s eyes are glassy with unshed tears. “Is Lara a mistake?”

“What?”

“Do you regret it?” Clark looks up at him. “Do you regret getting pregnant now?”

“No, of course, not,” Bruce answers immediately. “I would never regret getting pregnant with her, Clark.” Bruce swallows. “Do you regret it?”

Clark shakes his head in the negative. “No. Never. I just… I don’t want it to be like this.” The alpha reaches a hand up and wipes his eyes. “We’ve fought so hard to get to where we are, with you and me being in a good place, my parents finally starting to accept you, and my relationship with Lois is starting to mend as well and yet, here we are, still having to fight.”

“I suppose it’s like crime fighting,” Bruce comments.

“But it’s not supposed to be!” Clark snaps then looks immediately guilty. “Having a baby and a family, Bruce, isn’t supposed to be this hard, this… this tragic.”

“Well, you cheated and I let it happen, that was the first sign that this wasn’t going to be easy, Clark.” Bruce takes Clark’s hand. “But fighting our way here was worth it and we’ll fight through this too. We’re Superman and Batman. We don’t give up on the people we love.”

Clark nods and then rubs at his face, groaning. “How am I supposed to tell Kara and Conner? They’re going to be devastated.”

Bruce frowns. “I don’t know.”

“And what about Barbara and Tim?” Clark asks him.

“I’m going to tell them myself. I don’t want the other kids or Alfred to know yet.” His chest tightens and a lump forms in his throat. “I can’t tell them that me and their sister is-” he chokes off and tears roll down his face as he closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath. “I’m not ready to tell them.”

Clark is squeezing his hand and when Bruce opens his eyes, the Kryptonian is crying as well. “But you have to tell Barbara and Tim because you know Kara and Conner aren’t going to keep it from them.”

Bruce nods. “Yeah, I know.” He sniffles. “They can adopt you know. Tim especially, of all people, know that there’s nothing wrong with that, that you love them just as much as if they were biologically yours. I think he’ll be okay with that. He’ll be sad and disappointed because there’s something special about having a child with the one you love but he’ll love a child that he adopts just as much. Barbara though… she sees my family and she’s a part of it, but she has her own father so she was never my child so she does have a direct part in seeing how adoption is just as good.”

“Same with Kara and Conner,” Clark whispers. “I don’t even know how I’m going to word it. ‘Hey, by the way, you can never have biological kids because you’ll kill your mate but don’t worry, you could always adopt.’ Yeah, that sounds great.”

Bruce is chuckling. He can’t help it. “Don’t make fun of adoption.”

Clark chuckles too, small smile gracing his face. “Sorry.”

It doesn’t take long for the air around them to turn somber once more. “Bruce?” Bruce hums to let Clark know he’s listening. “What if Lois and I had been successful in getting her pregnant?”

“Clark…”

The tears are back in Clark’s eyes. “We were trying, remember?” They roll down the alpha’s cheeks. “She would have died, Bruce. What if you two were pregnant at the same time? I would have killed her too.”

“Clark, don’t… don’t do that to yourself. Don’t think of what ifs.” He reaches up and wipes the tears off the Kryptonian’s face. “That didn’t happen.”

“But you’re still dying… and Lara is still dying.” He sniffles. “And that’s on me.”

“Clark…”

Clark gets up off the bed, wiping his face furiously. “I should go and tell Kara and Conner. Rip is off like a bandaid, right?”

Bruce nods and watches Clark walk away and into the bathroom.

*~~~*

He and Tim are down in the cave, waiting for Barbara to show up. The air is thick with tension and Bruce knows that doesn’t go over Tim’s head. Finally, the omega confronts him. “What’s going on, Bruce? You’ve been sitting there stiffly for the past ten minutes.” Bruce doesn’t answer him. “Something is wrong, isn’t it?” Still Bruce says nothing. “It has something to do with Lara, right? Something is wrong with her?” Bruce looks at his son and Tim’s breath hitches. “Oh God, Bruce you’re scaring me. What’s wrong with her? What’s happening?”

“I would like to know the same thing.” They both turn to see Barbara walking down the stairs leading into the cave. “To call me out here all of sudden. It’s unusual.” She walks up to Bruce and hugs him in greeting and then hugs Tim. “It’s good to see you two but I am definitely curious as to why this a meeting only between you, Tim, and I and why Clark is meeting with Kara and Conner.”

“He’s what?” Tim asks, looking surprised. He turns to Bruce. “Now I’m really scared.”

Bruce takes a deep, calming breath before he starts. “I think you two need to sit down.”

Both Barbara and Tim glance at each other before sitting down in a couple of seats. “What’s going on, Bruce?” Barbara asks.

Bruce swallows. “Tim knows better than you Barbara of how difficult this pregnancy has been for me… physically I mean. I’ve been very sick and have been having really headaches and random pains. Last night was the worst it had ever been. Clark and I went to see the Kents in Smallville and my head started to sudden hurt really bad, I think almost passed out or I did, I don’t recall but Clark brought me to Leslie.” Barbara is watching him stoically, eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration, while Tim’s are furrowed in concern. Bruce swallows again. “She did some blood work and found something out.”

“Is it cancer?” Tim asks. His eyes are wide, scared, and Bruce wants to comfort him.

He stays where he is. “No.” He sees Tim gulp. “Leslie found out that…” Bruce licks his lips. The two kids are on the edge of their seats. “I’m dying.” They stay silent. “And so is Lara. The baby,” Bruce clarifies, knowing Barbara hadn’t been told what the baby’s name is yet.

The two are stunned in silence, staring at him with disbelief. “Why?” Barbara asks, breaking the silence. Tim’s eyes migrate to the stone floor.

“It’s the Kryptonian side of Lara. My body is rejecting here because it sees the those genes as something foreign and so wants to expel it. However, Kryptonian genes under a yellow sun are a lot more powerful than human genes, as we all know, and so Lara’s body is fighting back which is what is killing me.” Bruce looks from one to the other. “I’m telling you both this, and Clark is telling the same to Kara and Conner, because you two are both dating Kryptonians.”

“Which means… we can’t have children with them,” Barbara fills in the blank. “It’s funny, Kara and I were just talking about the future and when we wanted to start trying for a baby.” She shrugs, still obviously in shock. “Seeing you, Bruce, is actually what spurred that conversation on.”

“Kon is only half Kryptonian.” Tim’s eyes dart up to his. “That means he could pass on human genes. We could still have kids together.”

“Tim, I know you’re much smarter than that,” Bruce says. “Do you really want to take that chance?” Tim slumps in his seat and looks back down at the floor.

“What about you?” Barbara begins. “What’s going to happen to you? And the baby?”

Bruce hesitates, not wanting to lead onto the two that there probably is no saving himself. “Clark and I are going to handle it. You two don’t need to worry about it.”

“But we will anyway,” Tim says quietly.

Bruce sighs. “I know. Listen, I don’t want anyone else to know yet, okay? That means you can’t tell Dick, Jason, Damian, or Alfred. Please, I can get your word you won’t tell anyone?”

They both nod. “Of course, Bruce,” Barbara says. She sounds calmer now, put together. Bruce knows it’s an act. She’s trying to be strong, a bigger person.

Tim is still sitting silently in his chair. “If…” he starts hesitantly. “If there is anything I can do to help you two find a way to stop this from happening, please let me know. I’m smart. I’m sure I’ll be useful.”

Bruce won’t drag his son into this. “Thank you, Tim. I’ll keep that in mind.” He stands. “You two better get going. I’m sure Kara and Conner will need you right now.” He walks away then, knowing the two are going to discuss this matter between each other before leaving to their respectful mates.

*~~~*

At dinner, they all are sat around the table. Bruce hasn’t heard from Clark yet and he isn’t sure if Tim has gone to talk to Conner yet. Barbara is gone so she is probably with Kara but Tim is sat across from him. The table is bustling with conversation, something him and Tim stay out of. Bruce’s head is killing him.

Jason is in the middle of a story about taking out a drug deal when Bruce sees Clark fly down outside the window. He stands. “Excuse me.” He goes and leaves the Manor, meeting Clark out back. “Clark!” He hugs the alpha and Clark hold him tightly. When they pull away, Bruce asks, “Where have you been? I was getting worried.”

“I’ve been just flying around. Trying to clear my head.”

“How did Kara and Conner take it?” Bruce asks him, leading Clark to a bench in the garden a little ways from the Manor.

Clark shakes his head. “Not well. Kara started crying and Conner is in denial because he is only half Kryptonian. He’s convinced that he still has a shot at having a biological child with Tim someday.”

Bruce nods. “Yeah, Tim entertained that idea for a few seconds too.”

“How did they take it?” Clark asks him.

Bruce purses his lips, remembering their conversation. “They’re rational people. They probably took it better than Kara and Conner. They understand, I think they accept it, but you know they also hide their feelings, something they learned from me, so I’m sure they are really hurting inside right now.”

“And how did they take the news about you and Lara dying?”

“They were shocked, I think Tim still is, but they won’t tell anyone. Tim offered up his services but…”

“But you don’t want him to help,” Clark finishes for him. “You don’t want him to get involved for fear of getting hurt.”

Bruce nods. “Yeah.”

Silence falls upon them, the crickets chirping in the distance. They hear the click of the back door and soon Tim is in their sights. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you two were out here.”

“What are you doing?” Bruce asks.

“I… I didn’t want to be in there anymore.” Tim sits down on the grass. “I couldn’t keep pretending everything is okay.” Bruce frowns. “I just need a few days to get used to what is happening. I’ll be able to hide it, I promise, Bruce. I won’t tell anyone I just… can’t right now, with them all being there, not knowing what is happening.”

“It’s okay, Tim.” Bruce tries to give the omega a reassuring smile. “I get it.”

Tim is running his hand through the grass. He doesn’t say anything and neither do Clark and Bruce. They sit there for hours, feeling the cool night air in their hair and watching the stars with sorrow.

A/N: Thanks for reading!

#DC Comics #SuperBat #Superman #Batman #Clark Kent #Kal El #Bruce Wayne #A Life So Changed #My Fanfiction #sfw

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chimehourbooks · 6 years ago

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Chimehour - Deleted Scenes: Blog #1!

Due to popular demand with the book's release in October, I have decided to start a 2019 blog series about what didn't make it into Chimehour. If you have ever written a book and especially if you have revised one, you know that a lot more can end up on the cutting room floor than in a book. Ans if you have followed this blog for awhile, you know that Chimehour went through more than a few revisions before it was released. Not everything I cut was due to quality; some things were good, but they weren't part of the final draft. So that's what this blog is gonna be all about: the process, the revisions I made, why I decided to change the scene, and what the original scene looked like! Please note I have left the original writing intact, outside of obvious typos and misspellings. Scene 1 - Willow's Introduction/Dream Sequence (Draft: 1st and 2nd) Chapter: 8 Characters: Stanley, Vincent, and Willow Editing Notes: This scene and its now finished Chapter 8 only have a handful of lines in common. This opening sequence was an early casualty of Chimehour's final revisions, though I tried desperately to keep this dream sequence in the story- in fact, you can still see hints of its content and descriptions spread around the book. Ultimately, this scene got slashed mostly due to that sequence because its overarching goal (let's talk about Stanley's anxieties) could be accomplished in more subtle ways. Plus this scene genuinely worked better from Vincent's perspective! Willow's introduction would go through two more rewrites before the finished version came about- but this version was what I held to for a long time before I decided to strengthen Willow's character from her introduction on. What lies here is a 2D model of that scene though. # It was somewhere past midnight when Stanley first caught himself in restless sleep. The boggled visions where voices echoed, blood pooled, and dark liquid filled his lungs. It couldn't kill him, but he didn't see the way out this time. Rattled by the hellish half-dreams, he awoke dizzy and blind, rolling to his side. Used to his mattress back home, he overestimated the space he had and quickly found himself tumbling straight off the edge. He rushed to catch himself; his numb palms met with wet cobblestone. Stanley hit his head as he landed. He yelped, reaching to protect his face. His fingers clambered into his glasses. I forgot to take them off again, he thought, rubbing the back of his skull. He sat up, feeling the cold soak into his traveling clothes. This was confusing; he recalled changing earlier, for whatever earlier meant now. He looked up at his surroundings. Townhouses and street lamps appeared as far he could see, veiled behind a thick, green fog. Stanley recognized his neighborhood almost immediately. When... Last he remembered, he had been in Dublin. He stood, holding his temple. He could see the front gates of his home. The well-tended roses that his mother grew near the porch. The marks in the gate where he and Isabelle had tried to etch their names years before. He took a step forward, an onset of happiness settling within him. But something pulled at his mind. Something dark. Something odd. And that something held Stanley away. A sharp noise disrupted the quiet. A squishing, sloshing sound, like boots in the mud. Stanley wheeled back, finding the direction in which the sound echoed from. Before him stretched Albemarle Street, now wider and more ominous than usual. “Erm... hello?” he called out, unease filling the pit of his stomach. A slumped shape appeared through the sick fog. The sound now formed in rhythmic repetition. Footsteps. Then the moan. That familiar, cutting moan. No... Stanley thought, his eyes dissolving to pinpricks. A pair of bloodied hands shot through the fog, breaking it into wisps. Their owner dragged himself through the clearing. His fine clothes were spattered with the remains of his own innards, leaking off the gap in his chest. His black hair a mangled, dirty mess. Stanley knew him even before the voice appeared. “There you are, son. I had wondered...” “Father,” Stanley rasped. He edged away, shock making his body heavy. That which was once Mr. Brigham tottered forward like a disorganized animal, splashing more of his own blood onto the ground. More footsteps could be heard. First one. Two. Then more... Many more. The groans, moans, and broken shrieks of the dead emerged from the murk. Their voices were a mangled mass, unintelligible from one to the other. They overwhelmed each other, and Stanley in turn. His head ached with so much noise. Too much noise. They appeared as shadows. The faces of neighbors, schoolmates, past friends, and family. Stanley’s heart drowned in horror as his mother's ragged form emerged from the crowd, her mouth and fingers dripping blood onto her dress. Isabelle appeared next, dark circles around her eyes and a large bite taken out of her shoulder. They all soon filled the street, creating a wall of dead. No, not here, he thought, stepping backwards. This can't happen here. He shot through the fog, into the other half of the street. There was silence as he scrambled forward. A cracked scream then broke through, him freeze. With a shudder, he turned toward the sound. Terror refreshed its grip as Vincent appeared out of the shadows, his eyes dark and confused. His hands were at his chest, protecting a bloodied bite mark. “Stanley...” he choked. “Help.” No sooner then he spoke, a thin pair of hands wrapped around his neck. Stanley's eyes doubled as something that looked awfully like Cecilia appeared over Vincent's shoulder. Her pale eyes flashed before she took a vicious bite out of him. He wrenched, howling as the infection began to take its toll. “Vince, no!” Stanley screamed, rushing to his friend's side and trying to pry him from Cecilia's grip. Cecilia looked up, her mouth stained in the boy's blood. She hissed inhumanly and dropped Vincent's corpse, letting him crumple to the ground. Stanley stumbled back, fighting a whimper. Vincent’s dead eyes stared up at him, glossed and half-open. But the grasp of cold hands broke his trance. Stanley looked, quickly met with the unfortunate reality that he had been surrounded by the creatures. Their fingers wrapped around his clothes, yanking him to the ground with little effort. “Let go! Get away!” He pushed away bony fingers and kicked at heads full of hungry teeth. Anger and adrenaline filled him, but his body was still treading slow. Far too slow to save him. His eyes widened as Vincent rose amongst the hunched crowd, reawakened. His fixed eyes grew wild. He growled and dived forward, sinking his teeth around Stanley's pinned leg. Stanley screamed; the pain dug deep as the poison filled his bloodstream. He attempted to pull his leg away from Vincent and punched another creature. He shook himself free from the creatures' prying hands, but more awaited him. They pulled him back down, and he couldn’t manage the fight again. The curse was taking its toll. He caught sight of it then. A shadow in the masses, tall and slight. It spirited through the Revenant, craning over Stanley's pinned form like a praying mantis, its digging fingers around his throat. His eyes grew wide; Maggie MacNamura towered over him. Oddly unchanged and wearing her usual grin. “Poor dear,” she said as she looked down on the boy, running a hand along his cheek. “In over your head again… Don’t you fret. I’ll make it better.” Her face suddenly twisted into a wide, hardly-human smile. She unhinged her jaw, swooped down like the Revenant before her. Darkness enveloped Stanley's world, giving to a blessed end to the awful clawing and screams. If just for a moment. “Stanley...” The voice appeared, lost in a newly growing gray light. Stanley assumed himself drowning again. Good. “Stanley, please...” Someone wasn't giving him peace. Squinting, Stanley let the gray break into a pale yellow. He flinched, left only with the unfamiliar feeling of the scratchy pillows and blankets. The tang of something sweet lurked in the air, strong enough to leave the onset of a headache. This wasn't his bed, but then it wasn't a wet road in London either. And he certainly wasn't being eaten alive. He blinked, revealing a pale room and a kerosene glow. He noticed thick layers of sweat on his palms and his forehead. As his eyes refocused, he caught sight of a nervous-looking Vincent standing over his side of the bed, dressed in a gray nightshirt. “Oh, glorious! You're awake.” he whispered, rubbing his hands together. “I'm quite sure there is a ghost in this room, and you need to tell it to leave.” “Uh- Wha...” Stanley groaned, rolling onto his back. “A ghost,” Vincent repeated, nervousness leaking into his tone. “I heard it rummaging around the wardrobe.” “...What time is it?” Stanley said, rubbing his face awake. He looked over at the clock. With his vision blurry, he merely guessed that the hands rested somewhere near 3:30. So that was a dream, he thought, pulling himself up. “Are you listening?” Vincent said. Stanley scrambled for his glasses, grabbing them off the nightstand and shoving them over his nose. He held the crook with one finger, looking to Vincent with exhaustion. “Vince, even if there is a ghost in here, what do you wish me to do?” he mumbled. “They don't do everything I say just because I can see them.” “Oh, but-” Vincent sputtered. “Just go look.” “I thoug-” The wardrobe suddenly creaked. A crunching emanated from the closed doors, noisy and surprising in the previous quiet. Stanley blinked, letting his glasses drop back. The same calm could not be said of Vincent, who had pushed himself against the wall. Stanley sighed in amusement. “I thought you liked all these happenings and creatures?” “Not like this,” Vincent whispered, eying the wardrobe. “This thing is flouting about with my unmentionables!” Stanley shook his head. He kicked off the blankets, grabbing the lamp off the nightstand as he stepped down. “Very well, I will talk to it.” He wore a sleepy smile as walked over to the wardrobe, the floor aching under each step. He placed the lamp by his bare feet and grabbed the handles on either door. “I will tell you though,” he chimed, looking over his shoulder. “It is probably just a mouse. And I can't talk to those…” He smirked and gave each door a pull, forcing the wardrobe open. “Frankly, I would prefer a ghost in my unmentionables before to a... a...” Stanley's voice trailed off. His jaw dropped. Amongst the hanging forms of their coats, the still-packed bags, and collections of dust bunnies, a lone girl huddled in the corner. Cloaked in a sooty dress, its frayed sleeves falling short of her forearm. Her hair shone in a dull gray, falling around her in a tangled weave. She paid no mind to the doors, her focus drawn to the object in her hands, which she bit into fervently. Stanley quieted himself, grabbing the lamp and lifting it to his head. The girl’s hair caught light. Its shade was closer to pearl, and not quite as pale as her skin. She stuffed the last the now recognizable pastry into her mouth and licked her fingers of any remaining crumbs. Spirits don't eat, he thought, unable to gather much else in his busied mind. She looked back then. Stanley met her eyes without thinking. He tensed, taken by the vivid lavender color in her pupils. They shone like stained glass as they widened in horror. She fell to the back of wardrobe with a violent gasp, hunching like a cornered rat. Her hand flailed to her side, grabbing for something in the dark. “Oh, what's going on in there now?” Vincent called back. Stanley looked over his shoulder again, wide-eyed. “There's a... girl in our wardrobe,” he said plainly as he could. “A what?” Before Stanley could respond, a sharp blow landed in the center of his chest. He yelped as his head slammed into the bedpost. His vision turned to a glaze as he slid to the floor, clutching his crown. The girl was upon him a second later. He jolted as a small knife came within inches of his face. It shook in her grip. “Um- hold on now...” he said, speaking on impulse as he backed into the bed. His pulse racing, he chanced a better look at her face. A grimace contorted her shadowed features, hiding her elegant eyes again. She glanced back at him, and her expression shifted. Stanley almost read it as calm. Some clarity in her panic. He wasn't sure if it was real or an illusion created by his drowsiness. But she stepped away, folding the knife behind her back. With a sigh that seemed apologetic, she ran for open bedroom door, darting out. “So... that definitely wasn't a ghost?” Vincent managed a smile. Stanley stood sharply, feeling no need to dignify his question with a response. Without another thought, he yanked his suitcase free of the open wardrobe and flung it open, digging for his clothes. “And what are you doing?” Vincent asked. “What else? I'm going after her,” he said as he pulled on a pair of trousers under his night shirt. Vincent moaned. “What was she doing in there anyhow?” Stanley pulled his nightshirt over his head, letting it fall to the ground. “Eating, and hiding from the looks of it. Something wasn’t right.” “Oh, can't we just leave it for when the sun's out?” Vincent sat down on the bed. “She drew a knife on me.” Stanley said. “Call me mad, but when a lady points a weapon your way, you should leave her be.” Stanley ignored this comment, looking back at him.“You're the one who woke me up about this.” He yawned, unaffected. “Yes, and you handled it very well. But I have not slept yet, so...” Stanley pulled on an unbuttoned dress shirt, taking humor in Vincent's lack of encouragement. “You can stay, if you prefer. I'm not.” “Very well then. You try not to have too much fun...” And he promptly collapsed onto the bed in an unceremonious fashion. #

#chimehour #deleted scenes #writing #writeblr

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huffle-dork · 7 years ago

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Anti’s a cat and that’s a fact

I’m not the best at fluff and this was kinda rushed but i couldnt pass up this idea! I feel like this has been done before too but you know *shrugs*

Thanks to @jurassicfannibal for the idea! [x] Based on Revere’s versions of the characters too *thumbs up*

Anti had a rough night last night and only Red knew. Well, he was the only one that knew before this morning. Red did the usual routine of meeting Anti as he stumbled in from whatever trouble he got into that night. And boy did he get in trouble. His face was smeared with red from a spilt lip and bloody nose. His eye was puffy and purple and when he stumbled face first into Red’s chest, hiccupping in discomfort, trying to pull away caused him to wince and hiss when applying pressure to his arm. Red sighed and scooped up his tired brother, despite the glitch’s protests, and took him to the clinic to rest.

Then, Green came into open the clinic early and noticed an occupant in the room Doc started saving just for Anti and he was able to put two and two together. He was a supercomputer after all. After that, all the googles knew.

The glitch was sleeping soundly, his head propped up with as many pillows as he could steal. His right arm was in a sling snuggly pressed against his chest. He had a nasty black eye and a swollen lip but other than that he seemed fine. Though he for sure had a hangover, whenever the sun shone through the blinds across his bed he would wince and shuffle in his sleep.

The google brothers all went in to check in on Anti once they heard he spent the night in the clinic. But Red stopped them before they all walked in.

“Hey guys, we all know Anti can get kinda… touchy when we all know about one of his nights out. So, since Anti thinks only I know about this, I think I should be the one to check. For now at least.”

Ollie bites his lip in concern as the others nod. Slowly, he agrees to wait too and Red enters to check on Anti.

As he enters the room Red suddenly remembers, he’s not so good with comforting. Anti’s sleeping, what is he supposed to do? Maybe he should have let Ollie come in…. He settles for awkwardly coming up close to the sleeping glitch and gently patting his head.

Anti stirs slightly and stretches as the touch wakes him up. But he’s still kinda delirious from the events of last night so it takes him a second to fully wake up and respond. But when he does, out of his mouth comes a very faint cat like mreow neither boy was quite expecting. Anti’s eyes spring open in shock at the weird noise he just made and stares up at Red. Red gapes wide-eyed at Anti before a huge shit eating grin spreads across his face.

“Did you just meow?” Red snarked, holding back a snicker.

“No!” Anti protested immediately, “I didn’t- you just startled me-! I-“ “You fucking meowed!” Red bellowed and Anti turns bright red.

“Shut up!” the glitch shouts, trying to jump out of bed, his face too warm. Red can hardly contain his laughter and he doubles over cackling. “Stop laughing at me, Red!” Anti whines, trying to not glitch in frustration. “I’ll fucking kill you, stop!!”

“Oh really?” the droid challenges, his grin getting wider. Anti regrets saying anything as Red opens the door to reveal the rest of the Googles. Anti’s stomach drops, and he blushes harder as Red announces, “Hey guys! Just as Anti woke up he freakin meowed-!” Red is cut off by a scream and the pouncing body of Anti on top of him as they both topple to the floor.

Green instantly panics, “Oh my gosh Anti don’t do that your arm!” He quickly rushes over to pull the fussy glitch away from a breathless Red. Google raises an eyebrow at the scene, “He… meowed?”

Red laughs from the floor, hardly able to talk, “Yeah, I just like touched his head to try to wake him up! A-and when he moved he just opened his mouth and sounded just like a cat!”

“You’re just- it wasn’t like that!” Anti argues, hating how hot his face feels. They’re never ever gonna let him live this down. Oliver cocks his head and smiles slightly, “I mean you do kinda act like a cat at times Anti. Maybe it was just bound to happen?”

Anti huffs and spins around back into the room, muttering “I fucking hate you guys…” and he slams the door shut behind him.

The Google brothers all look at each other and share a smile, the same thought running through their networks.

Operation: get Anti to act like a cat- initiated.

Over the next couple days, Anti is recovering in different spots of the office. On alert though, the Googles are acting strangely. They all keep looking at him and smiling or snickering and Anti cant help but be embarrassed. Siblings are the worst he thinks to himself as he crawls into his fort and curls up to sleep off a headache.

Bad idea. To keep his injured arm from moving too much he had curled up into a tight ball on top his mattress and fell asleep much like a cat would. Blue goes to check on him later and smirks at the sight, silently taking a picture through one of the lenses in his eye and sending it to the others. Anti wakes up later to it taped on the entrance of his fort with little whiskers and ears drawn on him in sharpie. Anti growls and tears the picture up, groaning into his pillow and he crawls down deeper to hide.

While he was sleeping one night, Anti felt something lightly hit his head. He tiredly looks towards the foreign object and jumps slightly. Someone had been rolling colored balls of yarn into the fort. Anti springs up to pull the curtain to the fort back and catches the hint of green t-shirt retreating towards the others’ rooms. Anti chucks one of the balls hard after Green and groans, throwing every other ball out of the fort in anger before falling back asleep.

The next day the googles get called for a meeting with the others and Anti sighs with relief. He could finally walk around the office without his brothers gawking at him and he stretched happily in the sunlight streaming through the window. He’s still sleepy though and Doc told him to get plenty of rest, so he decides to push some pillows into the stream of light falling across the floor. He grabs something to tinker with and flops contently onto his pile, basking in the warmth. He didn’t mean to fall asleep but the rhythmic motions of working on this carving soon lull him into a little cat nap. Or longer than that, because when the googles come back into the office they find Anti stretching out from his original spot on the floor towards where the sun has moved. Green and Red stifle snickers and Anti bursts awake at the sound, springing up onto the top of his toes, his back raised, too much like a startled cat. Green and Red lose it and Blue smirks, Oliver hides a smile behind his hand. Anti looks down at his posture and quickly stands up straight, fuming.

“Seriously, you guys! Stop! This isn’t funny anymore!” Anti cries. Red shakes his head, “I beg to differ!” the red droid counters.

Anti growls and rushes back to hide back into the fort again.

Later that night Oliver comes to check on Anti and still finds him irate, hacking away at some piece of wood that looks too close to comfort to Red.

“Hey buddy,” Ollie says softly, plopping down on top of some pillows next to where Anti is sprawled across several others.

“Are you here to laugh at me too?” Anti mumbles, slashing a huge gash into the wooden figure’s face. Oliver winces slightly and shifts uncomfortably.

“No, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Ollie explains, patting Anti gently on the shoulder. Anti visibly stiffs and edges away, afraid Ollie is trying to get a funny reaction out of him. Oliver sighs with a sad smile.

“Anti, I think you’re taking this too hard.” The yellow droid leans down so he’s closer to Anti. “This is just what brothers do!”

“Oh yeah? Have they ever done this to you?” Anti asks with skepticism. Ollie laughs, throwing his head back.

“Are you kidding? Loads of times! One time I put my glasses on top of my head and couldn’t find them for a couple hours. They just sat there laughing. Even after that they would steal them from me and keep them on their heads to remind me. And that’s only one example!”

Anti raises an eyebrow and smiles slightly at Ollie. “Huh. I never thought they’d try that with you. You’re too sweet.”

Ollie shrugs with a grin. “All siblings act this way, from what I’ve observed. Being able to poke fun at each other just means we’re close!”

Anti laughs and finally sits up and moves so he can move his head into Ollie’s lap. “Tell me embarrassing things to others have done!” He asks Oliver expectantly, practically kicking his legs in excitement. Ollie smirks.

“Is that gonna get you to calm down and come back out?”

“That’s the only thing that’s gonna get me out!” Anti grins wide. Ollie leans back and tries to think of the best ones. Like the time Google had to hide in the office for a couple days after setting Dark’s pants on fire. Or how Red almost got his wires fired by angering some of King’s squirrels. As Ollie is halfway through the story about Green getting caught in the revolving door outside, he notices Anti half asleep curled up by his leg. Oliver smiles softly and ruffles Anti’s hair to get him to wake back up. And then the glitch purrs.

Ollie couldn’t contain his laugh this time and Anti wakes. He screams and tackles Ollie and swears him to secrecy, pinning the yellow droid to the ground. Through tears, Ollie agrees and Anti sleeps soundly.

Until he wakes up the next morning to find cat markings scrawled across his face. Anti kicks the nearest thing has hard as he can and reminds himself of how he can’t kill his brothers, no matter how much he wants to. This just means they love him…right?

#hufflewriting #antisepticeye #google red #google oliver #googleplier #google green #staygoldrbhw #fanfic #ego fanfiction #anti’s a cat

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archieimagines · 7 years ago

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Family Don’t End With Blood | Dean Winchester Series | Part 1

I’ve had this idea for a series for a while and decided to try to write it! Reader is the child of Dean Winchester and one of his many one nightstands. But what happens when her mother is mysteriously killed at the hand of angels? And will the reader let the Winchesters into her heart?

word count: 1999 words. warnings: violence, mental illness (schizophrenia, ADHD, dyslexia), swearing, angst, blood and gore.

enjoy ;)

You never knew your father, mom had always said that it was a one night stand. He was apparently some FBI agent that had stopped in town for a case, and he and your mom met at the local bar and later that night you were conceived. He didn’t even know you existed, you thought that had to be better than him knowing and wanting nothing to do with you.

But it would have been nice to have help to look after your mom. She had never been quite ‘there’, she was always going about how she could hear the voices and would sometimes look at you say you weren’t her daughter. Which was impossible because you looked exactly like her except you had vibrant green eyes and were almost 6’0, that you had apparently inherited from your father. When you were 11 she was diagnosed as a schizophrenic after she had screamed in the middle of a dinner how the ‘voices’ were looking for her. Not long after that, you were diagnosed with ADHD and dyslexia, so not only were you making sure she was getting her treatments, you had to look after yourself. Which meant you practically raised yourself, by the time you were 17 you dropped out of high school, taking an online course so you were closer to your mother.

That was a year ago today. You were currently working at the diner just on the outskirts of the small town you had lived in your whole life. It wasn’t the best job, but it was the best you could do for the time being. Unbeknownst to you, this was the day your life would change forever, for better or for worse.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP

You groaned while turning over in your bed to shut off the alarm you had set the night before. Sitting up, you stretched out your arms and yawned. The sound of pots and pans clanging alerted to you that mom was awake. Jumping out of bed, you quickly got dressed in the tight uniform of the diner, pulling at the top so your cleavage wasn’t spilling out. You tied up your hair, grabbed your phone and car keys before exiting the room.

You entered the kitchen, your mom’s back was turned away from you as she washed the dishes from last night’s dinner. She said nothing, focusing completely on the current task. You walked to the island bench and pulled out your and your mother’s prescription boxes.

“Mom, have you taken your meds?” You inquired looking at the box, she didn’t reply which told you she hadn’t. You popped out two capsules and grabbed the orange juice and poured it into a tall glass. “Here,” you said, practically shoving the glass and meds in her face. She grunted, drying her hands off with a tea towel before taking them from you.

“When are you getting home?” She asked quietly, pulling gently at her dressing gown.

“Around 11 tonight,” you answered swallowing your own medicine, coughing a bit after.

“You have to be home earlier than that,” she demanded, her eyes squeezed shut.

“Well, that’s when my shift finishes, not a lot I can do.”

“I can’t be alone! They’re going to find me!” She shouted, bringing her fist against her chest. You straightened your posture and held out your hands warily.

“No one’s coming for you, mom. It’s just the schizophrenia talking,” you tried to soothe.

“I’m not sick! They came once when I was pregnant, and they’re going to come back. Please, you can’t let them take me!” She screamed, grabbing onto you hard enough to leave bruises. You grimaced, but didn’t push her away, instead pulling her into a bone-crushing hug and resting your chin on her head as she cried into your chest.

“You’re fine, shh. I’m here, mom. You’re okay,” you whispered on a loop, for almost ten minutes until she calmed down. You sat her down onto one of the dining room chairs, before grabbing a glass of water. “I’ll try to get home earlier, okay?” She nodded silently and squeezed your hand.

You left soon after that, stopping at your next door neighbours. They were a lovely elderly couple, who always kept an eye on your mother while you were at work. You told them about her episode and instructed them to call you if anything else happened. Then rushed over to your red 1970 Pontiac GTO, turning on the ignition and speeding to the diner, seeing you were 15 minutes late for work.

You turned off the engine and ran inside, huffing and puffing, receiving a few odd glances from the customers. You walked behind the counter and to the staff room to see your card had already been punched in. You smiled realising that your best friend Rachel had done it to save your ass… again. Sighing, you grabbed an apron and tied it around your waist.

You went out front, bumping waists with Rachel, who was refilling the ketchup and mustard bottles. She laughed, but stopped when she saw past your happy facade and instead the worry in your eyes. Not even having to ask what happened she hugged you tightly, letting you know that she was here for you.

“Would you two stop hugging and get to work!” Your boss shouted from the kitchen his thick Irish accent making it almost impossible for anyone but the two of you to understand him.

“Fine, Sean!” You both called out in response while rolling your eyes. The day progressed like normal, the same people that always came in did just that. Some people passing through stopped to try some of the famous pie Sean made every day. The only odd thing about the day was the news. Reports of strange murders all around the area, people who had no interaction with the other victims were found with their eyes burned out of their heads. It was worrying at one point a police officer came onto the tv to assure everyone everything was going to be all right. But for some reason you felt like something terrible was going to happen. And all the stress was giving you a killer headache. It felt like your head was about to split right open, like someone was trying to get inside your mind, even. You shook that thought, chuckling at how stupid you were being.

Sean let you off early due to the headache, wishing you a good night. You said bye to Rachel, before jumping into your car and headed home. But stopping at the convenience store, grabbing a bag of M&Ms for you and mom to share if she wasn’t already in bed.

Your heart froze when you pulled up at your driveway. The door of your small home was wide open, practically hanging off its hinges. You launched yourself out of the car, leaving the engine running as your tore inside the house. Several vases and fine china were smashed on the floor.

“Mom! MOM!” You screamed, panic rising in your chest, you checked the whole house. It was a wreck, photos, glass, paper were all strewn over the ground. Several pieces of furniture were turned upside down. By the time you reached the kitchen, tears were gushing down your face, which only increased at the sight you saw.

Your mother was atop the bench, cuts all over her body, blood seeping out a multitude of them, but the most horrific sight was the two gaping holes in her head where her eyes used to be. You screamed as your heart broke. You climbed onto the bench and pulled her head against your chest.

“Please, please don’t. Mommy. Don’t leave, I can’t do this without you.” You cried until the police came storming into your house after they had gotten several calls saying they heard screaming from your house. They had to tear you away from your mother so the morgue could take her and so they could question you. Not to long after that, Rachel came thundering in, wrapping you up in her arms. Her own tears soaking your shoulder, but you couldn’t cry anymore, you felt nothing. You were only a shell of a person without your mom, you weren’t a full person. Rachel stayed with you the rest of the night, not once leaving your side. You sat in the living room, clutching onto an old picture of you and your mother. It was just after you were born, you were wrapped up in your mother’s arms, she was smiling softly at the camera while your grandfather sat next to her, arms around her shoulders. You realised at that point, you had no family, your grand parents had been dead for years and you had no uncles or aunts and your father was complete mystery.

Well, until Rachel came down with small photo clasped in her hands. She had been going through your mothers things, so you didn’t have to. She placed it in your hands, your eyes scrunching up in disbelief. It was a photo of your father, he and your mother were sitting close together in a booth, beers in hand. You saw the similarities between him and yourself, the eyes being the most obvious, they were identical. But now you saw you actually had the same shaped lips, nose and shade of hair. Looking at your mother, you were shocked at how different she looked. She looked a lot younger, no bags under her eyes from sleepless nights. Eyes bright and aware instead of glassy and far away, and no age lines whatsoever.

You wanted to rip the picture apart as well as keep it by your heart forever. Your heart fighting with itself, one side wanted it destroyed because it reminded you that your mother was gone and how hard of life she had ended up having. While the other wanted to keep it because it gave you an idea of what she was like before everything had gone downhill. The fact your father was in it made no difference for you.

Your thoughts were cut off by a knock at the door, you stood up, and held on to the memory of your mother tightly. At the door were two men dressed in suits, one was facing you and the other was turned away and talking on the phone. The taller of the two introduced himself as Agent Perry and his partner was Agent Springsteen. He said he was from the FBI, which you had a hard time believing because of his ridiculously long hair. He started to explain to you that he thought your mother’s death was somehow linked to the string of murders happening all over the country, while he surveyed the house. You heard a curse from behind you, causing you to turn around.

In front of you was the man from the picture in your hand. Your estranged father, who up until today you had honestly thought you’d never meet, was standing before you. He stared back at you in shock, obviously recognising himself in you.

“Do I know y—?” He started warily, but you cut him off with your fist that wasn’t holding the picture, hitting him square in the face. A rage you had never felt before bubbled inside you, it was coursing through your veins and made you feel alive. He recoiled, shouting in pain, his partner turned around preparing to draw his gun. Your father looked up at you, eyes full of confusion and anger.

“Hi asshole, I’m your kid.,” you introduced yourself sarcastically, holding your hand which you were certain that you’d just sprained. Both your father and his partner froze in shock while Rachel came out to ask what was going on. Only to freeze when she saw you apparent father on the ground, you cradling your injured hand and a giant with some long ass hair reaching for his gun in your entryway.

written by: spaz

#written by spaz #dean winchester #supernatural #imagine #supernatural imagine #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x daughter!reader #series #jensen ackles

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justandersons · 7 years ago

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paragraph 3 - wellington prep

WHO: Alexander Smythe and Blaine Anderson

WHEN: Wednesday August 22nd, 2018

WHERE: Blaine’s dorm

NOTES: After he’s been with his brother for the past few days, Alex wants to see Blaine. But the slave is reluctant to see him and refuses to go to him for reasons Alex doesn’t understand, prompting him to go to Blaine.

Blaine Anderson

Agony was pretty much the only word that could describe this feeling. Braxton had always been rough with him, beating him to unconsciousness on more than one occasion but this time, it'd been different. He was enraged and Blaine knew it was because he'd spent so much time with Alex and enjoyed his company. Braxton saw Blaine as his property, despite now actually owning him, and any time spent with someone else wasn't okay with him. So he'd fucked Blaine and made sure it hurt, twisting his arm behind his back as he'd did so. Except Braxton had pushed further than before and the sickening crack that had follow had Blaine convinced the limb was broken. It certainly felt that way - it'd swelled significantly, it was bent at an odd angle and the colour? Well, it was purple and blue.

Blaine had managed to get back to his dorm where his roommates had immediately helped him shower and get into bed. He'd slept for the entire day - or rather, tried to - and now he was wide awake, the pain coming back in full force. That was when he'd seen the message from Alexander. He'd completely forgotten he was due to go to his suite after class had ended. Sleeping through his classes and being in this much pain had caused the orders to slip his mind.

Despite how much he'd protested, Alex was heading toward Blaine's dorm and the slave was terrified. He knew Alex would be angry, he knew he'd flip at what Braxton had done, and it was all Blaine could hope was that he'd be able to calm the Master down before he did something drastic. His roommates were trying to calm him down but Blaine? He was sat up slightly in bed, glancing from his roommates to the door as though waiting for Alex to burst in at any moment.

Alex Smythe

When he'd seen Braxton's rental go through, his initial thought had been panic. It was panic like he'd never felt before. It was stomach churning, headache inducing, hyperventilating panic. And he hated that. He wasn't sure what he hated more; the fact he'd allowed someone close enough to provoke that kind of concern for their welfare or the fact that despite how much he cared, he hadn't been able to do anything to stop it. He hadn't seen Blaine since he was due to be at his brother's suite; he'd been up early every morning, trying to casually be present when the students were kneeling outside their classroom before any of the Masters had even risen. Nothing.

The time went by agonisingly slowly. He felt terrible for complaining about it because if it felt long for him, he could only imagine how Blaine must be feeling. He'd seen Braxton in their shared classes and it had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed not to say something, not to ask something. He couldn't even have pretended to be as sadistic as he was, act as though he were trying to get some sort of scoop of what he was doing to his brother because he knew in his soul he wouldn't have been able to control his reaction.

When Blaine didn't show up promptly, he'd been mildly concerned. He tried to tell himself he'd probably come across a new student or he'd been caught up in conversation. Blaine didn't have it in him to be rude so he'd forgive him for that. Then it was an hour and nothing. He'd scrolled the Headmaster's page thoroughly; his rental had gone through, it had been approved so no-one should have been able to tie him up that long. He messaged him first. There was no reason to storm the school in search for him; that would just attract unwanted attention.His response only made his stomach drop even lower. When Blaine refused to come to him, his only choice was easy. He didn't have an extensive first aid kit but he grabbed what he had and made his way to the slave's quarters.

He hesitated only briefly outside of Blaine's room. He had to be calm. Getting angry wouldn't do anything for Blaine. Calm. Confident he could manage himself, he pushed the door open; allowing it to hit the wall with a heavy thud. His eyes landed on Blaine immediately, and the gaggle of girls around him. He saw his face first; that seemed okay, and his eyes wandered down. His illusion of calm flew out the window when he saw his arm; twisted in a way that was so unnatural. 'If your name isn't Blaine Anderson, then get the fuck out of this room now. The only exception to that order is if you have any remotely relevant medical knowledge. Otherwise I don't want to see you and I don't want to hear you.' He didn't yell. He wasn't really a shouter but his voice was dangerously low and it left no room for argument. His heart was beating against his insides, thudding in a way that almost felt like physical pain. The girls followed his instructions; filing out and he was disappointed that none of them had the relevant medical knowledge he'd been hoping for. In seconds, he was kneeling beside Blaine's bed; too scared to touch him. 'I'll fucking kill him Blaine. I mean it. I'll kill him.'

Blaine Anderson

The door opening had Blaine's stomach churning and he sat up a little straighter, though the simple action caused him to cry out loudly in pain. He shook his head when Alex spoke to the others, trying to push himself up properly. But everything hurt and Blaine was slumping against his headboard when he failed to get up a second time, defeated. "Please don't go-" he began, but his roommates were already leaving the room, not wanting to disobey a direct order. It was clear they wanted to stay but Alex's voice was so low, so menacing, that even Blaine was scared for a moment.

He watched the other kneel beside his bed and felt tears stinging his eyes, almost shying away from him. The words had him shaking his head immediately, though he made no effort to move closer to Alex, as though afraid of any pain. "Please don't," he said softly, voice trembling a little. "Please don't kill him. He's my brother. Please. Please don't. I deserved this, I deserved to be punished. You... You c-can't kill him for punishing me when I was bad."

Alexander Smythe

'You're not allowed to move.' It was the first thing that came to mind. Blaine liked to obey and he hoped having that in place would reduce the risk of him moving around and jostling his arm. His hand shook as he reached out and brushed his fingers against Blaine's cheek. He was terrified to touch him. 'You weren't bad.' he said. He couldn't raise his voice above a whisper but he spoke with tremendous conviction. 'There is nothing you could have possibly done to deserve this Blaine. Absolutely fucking nothing.' His breathing stuttered and he wondered how many times he'd looked past slaves in similar positions. It was different this time though. This was Blaine. His Blaine. Or at least the Blaine he wanted to be his.

He ignored his pleas about not hurting Braxton. He'd ignore them. He might not kill the boy as much as he wanted to but he wouldn't be able to walk past him without doing something. 'What do you think you did that meant you deserved this?' He couldn't fathom how Blaine rationalised it all away. He rummaged in the small first aid kit he'd brought; the only pills of notable strength were leftovers from when he'd hurt his back last year. 'Here.' He fished them out and held them to Blaine's lips. 'Take these. They'll help. I think. I'll get you real help. I'll take you to a hospital.'

Blaine Anderson

Blaine stopped fidgeting as soon as he heard the orders, slumping down against the bed again and rubbing at his eyes with his good arm. He felt the fingers on his cheek and flinched for a moment before relaxing when he realised it was just Alex. God, it was agony, being like this but still, he wanted to run. He wanted to get away and just cry it out because none of this was fair. He wanted to be a good slave but clearly he wasn't if he was still angering Braxton so much.

"I... I was bad," he repeated, not quite looking at the other as he reached through the little bag he'd brought, pulling out some pills. He whined when they were brought to his lips, reaching for the water on his bedside table and taking them without question before returning to his original position. "Am I allowed to go? I thought we had to get permission from the headmaster before we left campus?" Blaine said tiredly, sighing. "I'll be fine. It's just... probably bruised or something." He knew his words were lies but what could he do? Blaine was terrified. "As for what I did... I don't... I put other people and myself before him. And Master Braxton is meant to be my number one priority. That's what he always said as we grew up. I'm his, I belong to him, but I didn't serve him like he wanted me too so... so as he fucked me, he did this."

Alexander Smythe

It broke his heart. There was a pain in his chest that actually felt like his heart was snapping in two as he listened to Blaine speak. He flinched when he touched him. Flinched because he was scared. He didn't deserve to be scared. 'Regardless of what the Headmaster says, you're going. I'm taking you and I'm not leaving your side. I'm going to make sure this is taken care of, that the bone is set properly and that you get as much pain relief as your allowed. I'll cover any cost and I'll drop my Father's name as many times as I have to.'

He couldn't let this happen again. He couldn't let Braxton continue to torment and hurt Blaine like this. He couldn't have him twisting every good thought out of Blaine's head. 'You're not his. You don't belong to him and I'm going to make sure this can't happen ever again.' he said firmly. He'd spent years believing he'd never purchase a slave; and now it seemed like the most logical choice. 'I'll buy you. Not a going to. I will. I'll do it tonight and then he won't be able to touch you ever again.' he nodded, tracing his fingertips along Blaine's hairline and dipping into his curls. 'I'm going to keep you safe.'

Blaine Anderson

"We can't disobey the Headmaster!" Blaine said sharply, sitting up a little again and looking terrified. "If we do, who knows what will happen? I don't... I don't want you getting into trouble. What if you get hurt because you tried to help me, Sir? I'll never forgive myself." Blaine let out a quiet sob, reaching for Alex's hand in his own with his good arm, squeezing gently.

Blaine hadn't been expecting that. He blinked in surprise at the words and shifted a little on the bed one more. "You're going to buy me? But... wait, really? You'll do that just so M-Master Braxton can't touch me?" Blaine swallowed harshly and glanced at the door, as though expecting his brother to burst in any moment. The touches to his hair felt nice and he closed his eyes as he relaxed, if only a little. "He isn't going to like that. He's always said I have to serve him."

Alexander Smythe

'B, I told you not to move. You're going to hurt yourself more. I don't want that.' he said, trying his best to keep his voice soothing. It was a more difficult task than normal because he'd never felt the kind of anger he felt in that moment. 'Don't worry about the Headmaster. He's not a complete asshole; he won't stop us. But I've told you before, you're worth getting hurt over. If I make a choice that gets me hurt, it's nothing on you. It's on me.' he said firmly.

He desperately wanted to scoop Blaine into his arms and cradle him against his chest; he wanted to hold him so tightly he'd feel it in his toes. His desire to protect the boy in the bed was unparalleled. 'It's not just about stopping him from touching you. That's why I'm doing it so immediately. But I'm doing it because I care about you. Because I want to keep you with me. Is that something you might want?' He had to ask because he couldn't have gone through with it if it wasn't something Blaine wanted too. 'I don't give a flying fuck what Braxton wants. If you're mine, he can't have you.'

Blaine Anderson

Blaine stilled immediately, swallowing harshly and nodding. He didn't want to disobey, didn't want to disappoint the other and so remained still, despite how nervous he was. He wanted to protest, wanted to tell Alex not to bother, that he was okay, but he knew it'd be pointless. No matter what he said, he couldn't be able to convince him. So Blaine simply nodded, letting his head fall back with a soft thud, groaning softly in main.

"I do want that," he said quietly. "I've given it a lot of thought, ever since you mentioned it the other day. I... When I was sleeping in the cage he'd set up, I thought about it. I thought about what it'd be like to sleep curled up with you every night and make you happy and look after you." Blaine flinched a little at Alex's tone when mentioning Braxton, closing his eyes for a moment. "I don't want him to be angry at you. I already know how angry he's going to be at me but you? I don't want him hurting you."

Alexander Smythe

'There's my good boy.' The praise felt wrong somehow in this situation. It didn't fit; like there shouldn't be any positivity. But Blaine had done what he asked and he knew how important the praise was for him. 'I'll arrange for the paperwork to be completed tonight. I have the funds and I don't need to be creative because I'm not gong to change your name. You'll be mine and then the Headmaster can't refuse me the right to ensure you get proper care.' he nodded confidently.

'He won't hurt me.' he promised him. 'That would cost him and he doesn't want to lose his very special Elite rank.' The latter half of the sentence was spoken in a mocking manner. The other Master liked to strike fear in the hearts of all the submissives around him but he knew he'd not risk losing his ranking or all the privilege that cam with it. 'I'm tougher than I look and this, this right here hurts me more than he could ever hope to physically.'

Blaine Anderson

Blaine couldn't help but smile softly at the praise. It always made him feel better, always helped when he was feeling anxious or nervous, and he loved it. He nodded at the words, shifting his arm a little uncomfortably and wincing. "Okay, Sir," he said in a quiet voice. Blaine wouldn't admit it, but he was relieved Alex wasn't planning on changing his name. He wasn't sure how he'd feel about that. "Does this mean you want me to wait here while you get it sorted? I don't know how I feel about leaving the school without his permission right now."

Blaine worried his lower lip through his teeth as he thought. It was true, Braxton loved being Elite and it granted him more freedom than most. He nodded, though he wasn't sure he believed Alex, and squeezed his hand again. "I'm sorry I'm hurting you," he said quietly. "I... I'm trying to be brave, but I can't lie to you, Alex, this really fucking hurts."

Alexander Smythe

‘You don’t need to apologise sweetheart. None of this is your fault. I’m only hurting because I never want you to be in pain like this. He brought the hand holding his to his lips and kissed the back of it. ‘You’re being so brave. I can only imagine how much it hurts but you’re being brave and I’m so fucking proud of you.’ Anyone else in Blaine’s position would be wailing; himself included but Blaine was showing a strength Alex hadn’t thought it was possible to possess.

The last thing he wanted to do was leave him like this, but he couldn’t expect him to traipse up to the Headmaster’s office nor could he expect the Headmaster to come to them. ‘I’m going to have to leave you. I’m sure some of your friends are hanging around outside. I’m going to tell them to come in and wait with you. One can sit by your side and hold your hand and one can pack whatever you need for the hospital. Just enough to get you through tonight because everything else, I’ll buy for you.’ He explained, his words coming out almost at the same time he thought them. ‘I’m going to order them not to open that door to anyone but me B. He’s not going to get near you. You just have to trust me okay?’

Blaine Anderson

No. No, he didn't want Alex to leave him, he didn't want to be on his own. Immediately he was letting out a sob and tightened his grip on his hand. A few tears finally escaped and he sobbed again, a little louder this time. But then he continued and said his friends could come back and Blaine was nodding, though he didn't loosen his grip on his hand.

"I trust you," Blaine replied honestly, pulling the other closer so he could kiss him softly. "God, I trust you. But... But please don't be too long, okay? I'm really scared and it really hurts. I just want to go back to sleep but I can't. But please... please hurry back, Sir."

Alexander Smythe

He was going to fix this. That’s what he did. He’d been accused of having a hero complex in the past and he hadn’t really agreed with it then, but he did now. He wanted to save Blaine. ‘I know. I know. I won’t be long. I’ll pay as much as it takes to speed up the process. Don’t sleep okay?’ He requested, kissing his lips against lightly. He’d been scared to initiate that kind of contact for fear of hurting in some way he couldn’t see but he’d done it first so it must be okay. ‘I just need you to be brave for a little longer B. I know you’ll do that for me. I’ll be back quick as a flash.’ He promised.

He met his roommates outside and he gave them the orders he promised Blaine he would before making his way to the Headmaster’s office. It was almost too easy.

It was nothing more than a business transaction and then he was holding paperwork in his hand that declared Blaine to legally be his property. He took the opportunity to express his displeasure at the state Braxton had left him in. Unusable. Broken. He’d emphasised the fact that it would take weeks for him to heal and with the Headmaster’s promise that it would be dealt with swiftly and harshly, he made his way back to Blaine’s room to escort him to the waiting ambulance.

Blaine Anderson

Blaine could only nod in response to the words. He'd try his best not to sleep but god, he wanted to. He wanted to just roll over and fall asleep so he could forget everything. But the pain in his arm wouldn't let him do that. His roommates were back as soon as Alex had gone and were doing what they'd clearly been ordered by Alex. One was beside him, holding his hand and offering soothing words of encouragement for him and the other was grabbing things he'd need for his stay at hospital. Not much was packed, not really and in no time at all, they were done and waiting for the Master to return.

Blaine let a few more tears fall now Alex was gone. He didn't have to try and be brave and let it out, just for a moment. His roommate squeezed his hand but didn't move to hug him, afraid she'd hurt his arm. But then Alex had returned and Blaine was sitting up quickly, a yelp of pain leaving him as he moved. "...Did you do it?" Blaine couldn't help but ask, even as his roommates hurried out of the room to leave them alone. "D-Do I belong to you?"

Alexander Smythe

He couldn’t really describe what he felt returning to Blaine’s room. Knowing he owned him was both jarring and soothing all at the same time. He was grateful that the other slaves had the sense to leave without being told to. He crouched next to the bed again and handed a single page over to Blaine so he could read it for himself.

‘You belong to me. Legally. Literally. No-one can touch you without my permission, the only orders you’re required to follow are mine.’ He explained, unable to help the smile that spread across his face. ‘And I hope you don’t mind but I went ahead and changed your surname to match my own.’ He added. ‘There’s an ambulance waiting for us outside. You’ll get nothing but the very best of care’

Blaine Anderson

Blaine took the paper from Alex and read it over, swallowing hard. This wasn't how he'd expected being claimed to happen, really. No one could have guessed it'd turn out like this and yet, here they were. But there was something oddly comforting about the fact he would be with Alex. He didn't have to follow any orders other than his.

"Wait, what?" Blaine blurted before he could stop himself, looking up at him and matching his smile. "I'm no longer an Anderson? Really? I'm Blaine Smythe?" Blaine had never said it out loud, but being an Anderson had never worked out for him. He was a disappointment to his family, tortured by his brother and it'd gotten him nowhere. Blaine couldn't help but smile up at him, despite how much pain he was in, and nodded. "Okay... Okay, we can go in the ambulance, but... You'll have to help me up, Sir."

Alexander Smythe

Changing his surname had been a risky move. It wasn’t something everyone did and he couldn’t be completely sure that Blaine would be onboard with it. His smile lifted a weight off his heart; he’d made the right choice. Given he was going to spend the rest of their lives making a fair few choices for him, it thrilled him to have successfully navigated that first hurdle. ‘You’re a Smythe.’ He nodded, confirming it for him. ‘And you’re mine.’ It was inevitable that they would face more problems in the coming weeks but in that split second, he didn’t care. It felt like everything would turn out just fine.

‘I think I should do something to try and strap your arm down before you get up. I think the less you move it, the better.’ He hadn’t been thrilled when the Headmaster had explained they couldn’t have paramedics running through the school unless it was a life or death situation but he understood it. It was far from ideal but it was better than being denied entirely. He didn’t have any bandages or anything remotely useful. As gently as he could, he positioned Blaine’s arm so it rested against his chest. Sebastian had broken his arm when he was younger and he did his best to match what he recalled the doctor doing. He pulled his jumper over his head and positioned so the body part covered Blaine’s arm. He pulled it as tight as he’d dared to and tied the sleeves in a knot at Blaine’s shoulder. His belt cane off next and he slid it around the bottom of the jumper. It wasn’t easy and it wasn’t nearly a good enough fix but it made a cocoon of sorts around his arm and he hoped it was tight enough to stop it jostling so much while they moved. He held his free hand, and eased him to stand. ‘I’ll carry you if you want me to B. Otherwise, we’ll just walk nice and slowly. Lean against me just like you did before.’

Blaine Anderson

A part of Blaine panicked when Alex said he was going to strap his arm down. No, he couldn't do that. He was in agony and that would only make it worse. But he nodded anyway, knowing it was for the best. His face screwed up in pain when his arm was moved against his chest and he bit his lip hard so he didn't scream.

It was fine until the jumper was pulled tightly over his arm. The pressure had Blaine letting out a scream of agony and he wanted to pull away immediately. By the time Alex was done, Blaine was trembling and his skin was pure white from the pain. But still, he got to his feet, swaying a little as he leaned against Alex, swallowing harshly. "I'm fine," he mumbled, even if it wasn't strictly true. "I just... need a minute. S-Sorry."

Alexander Smythe

He hated being the source of his pain. He could see it in his face the whole time he was trying to position his arm. Nothing could have prepared him for the scream that left his lips though. He must have screamed like that when it first happened; it astounded him how anyone, his psycho brother included, could have ignored that kind of agony.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ He mumbled, pressing kisses against his hair as he regained his balance. ‘You don’t have to apologise to me for anything Blaine. In fact, I don’t want to hear any apologies from you for the rest of the day at least. You haven’t done anything wrong.’ He repeated. ‘You know, I think I’m just going to carry you.’ As carefully as humanly possible, he lifted Blaine, bridal style, into his arms. ‘Just you put your good arm around my neck and try to make yourself as comfortable as you can. I’ve got you babe.’ He promised. He wasn’t heavy so it wasn’t a task to carry him through the school. He was his only concern so it was easy to ignore the stares and questions from people they walked by; including his sister who was silenced by a hard glare. At the ambulance, the paramedics assisted him in getting Blaine onto the gurney. He sat next to him, squeezing himself into as small a space as he could to give the paramedics room to work and he held his good hand tightly. ‘You’re going to be fine. I’ve got you.’

Blaine Anderson

Blaine frowned at the thought of not apologising. "But what if I do something wrong? Can I apologise then?" He asked with a frown. Blaine gave a soft gasp of surprise when he was lifted by the other and did what he was told, his good arm wrapping around his neck to hold himself up.

Being carried through the school was oddly humiliating. People stared at them as they passed, including Alex's sister and Braxton himself, though the latter looked satisfied with what was happening. Blaine could only assume Alex hadn't seen Braxton and that was why he was so calm.

Truthfully, Blaine was almost relieved when they reached the ambulance and he was eased in. It was a relief to have Alex with him too and he kept hold of his hand while the paramedics sorted the makeshift sling. "I trust you," Blaine said honestly, bringing Alex's hand to his lips and kissing it gently. "I trust you. I'm not worried because I have you."

Alexander Smythe

Blaine’s declaration hit him like a punch in the gut. He recognised fully in that moment the responsibility he’d taken on in purchasing the boy. Surprising himself, he didn’t feel afraid by that revelation. ‘Good boy.’ He smiled softly.

He’d visited his Father’s slaves in hospital on various occasions, and in his travels, he’d witnessed just how cramped and poor their conditions could be. His Father’s favourite slave however had been treated differently and despite his dislike for Thomas Smythe’s politics, he wasn’t ashamed to use him when he needed to. ‘His name is Blaine Smythe.’ He informed the paramedics as they pulled up to the hospital. ‘If you don’t know what that means, your superiors will. That means he’s not going to be taken to a dingy little ward and made to wait. He’s going to have a private room, and if he has to wait to see a doctor, I expect a nurse there within minutes to provide effective pain relief.’ He explained, adopting the manners and tone of voice that he’d always used to his advantage as a child and later, a teenager.

He was pleased to see the staff did seem to recognise his name and the importance it carried and he looked at them with no emotion evident on his face as they promised to meet his every demand.

Blaine Anderson

To say Blaine was surprised at Alex's words would be an understatement. He'd never heard him speak like this, not really. Like a Master. Which was stupid, as Blaine clearly knew the other was a Master. But it was another thing entirely to actually hear it coming from something as simple as his tone of voice.

To his surprise, the hospital staff seemed to genuinely care about his wellbeing and he was taken to a private room and helped onto the bed. They informed him that once he'd had pain relief and it'd kicked in, he could change into a gown so he could be more comfortable. Blaine settled on the bed, holding Alex's hand tightly.

"Thank you, Sir," he said quietly as the nurses worked around them to administer pain relief for Blaine. "I... I really appreciate this. I can't believe I'm really yours."

Alexander Smythe

He made it obvious that he was observing every person who came into contact with Blaine. As they bustled around, a nurse informed him that the head of surgery had heard of his arrival and wanted to deal with him personally. After being assured they’d be waiting no longer than thirty minutes, he agreed despite the fact that almost ensured his Father would hear about his demands and subsequently, his purchase.

‘You are mine now B.’ That felt amazing to say. He’d always been a possessive child and he’d never relished the idea of sharing his favourite things; this was the first time he’d felt that way towards a person though. ‘And because you’re mine things are going to be very different for you. I’m used to the best and by extension, you’re going to have only the finest things i can provide. You’re not just an ordinary purchase Sweetheart.’ He hoped that was enough to communicate to Blaine that he was important while still being vague enough for any potentially listening ears.

Once a drip was set up, and the nurses had given them their privacy, he let himself breathe a heavy sigh and relax back into the chair. ‘Did you see your brother watching us leave?’ He asked quietly, tracing his thumb over the back of Blaine’s hand.

Blaine Anderson

All Blaine could do was nod. The Smythes were a powerful family so he supposed being a slave to one of them would mean things would be different to what he was used to. Truthfully though, Blaine was relieved when they were left alone and he settled down against the bed, closing his eyes to try and finally relax.

But Alex's words had him sitting up again quickly. He hadn't realised he'd seen Braxton too and swallowed nervously. While the thumb on his hand was comforting, Blaine still felt on edge. "I did... he looked pleased with himself. But I don't think he knows you purchased me, Sir."

Alexander Smythe

'Blaine, lay back.' he instructed. His voice was firm but his tone was softer than when he'd been talking to the hospital staff. 'Perhaps my timing was poor in bringing him up. I just - I didn't know if you'd seen him or not and I - Forget about him.' he nodded, saying it out loud for both himself and Blaine. He didn't plan on telling him about Braxton's upcoming punishment; he wasn't sure Blaine would take it well although he was personally delighted by it, and hoped that he'd be there to witness whatever the other Master had to suffer through.

'Is that pain medication kicking in?' he asked, playing with Blaine's fingers absently. 'No-one said you couldn't sleep Sweetheart. If you're feeling tired and you're comfortable enough to sleep, then you should go ahead and do so. You can rest. The doctor will want to talk to me rather than you for the most part.' he explained gently. 'I won't leave your side for anything. I won't let you be alone.' he promised him earnestly.

Blaine Anderson

He was obeying immediately and laying back against the bed, wincing a little. The pain medication was definitely starting to work because it wasn't hurting as much as it had been. But he couldn't rest yet. His arm was still wrapped in Alex's jumper and he shifted uncomfortably.

"A little bit," he answered, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Don't I have to wait for them to x-ray my arm, Sir? And see how bad the damage is?" He furrowed his brow at the thought and squeezed Alex's hand gently. "I'm fine with the doctor talking to you though. I just want this over because it still hurts."

Alexander Smythe

‘I can wake you when that happens. I’ve been assured we won’t be waiting long so it’s entirely up to you B.’ He explained, bringing his free hand up to brush his fingertips against Blaine’s cheek. ‘I do think you might need surgery to set the break based on the paramedics assessment.’ He continued. He didn’t want to panic the slave but there was no point in pretending it wasn’t a possibility. ‘No expense will be spared in ensuring you are fighting fit again. If the doctor advises surgery, that’s what we’ll do.’

He sighed, and took a few beats just to stare at his face. He didn’t look quite like the Blaine he’d come to care about. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, and his skin was considerably paler than usual. ‘I don’t want to make you relive anything but I need to know if there’s any damage elsewhere. Anything that needs to be examined by a doctor.’ He knew Blaine had been raped; definitely violently and probably many times over. Psychological scars would take an age to heal and so right now, he focused on the physical.

Blaine Anderson

Blaine groaned softly at the thought of surgery but nodded. He knew the break was serious, he knew the damage was great and Alex would make sure he did everything in his power to make sure he was okay. But the thought of surgery did frighten him.

The words had him closing his eyes. He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to think about what happened. But he knew he needed to be examined and shifted uncomfortably before nodding. He kept his eyes low, clearly ashamed.

"I think I need to be examined... he didn't prep me or use a condom so... I'm sorry, Sir. I'm s-sore and I don't know how bad it is." Blaine felt his tears roll down his cheeks and wiped them away stubbornly, still not looking at Alex.

Alexander Smythe

‘I told you I didn’t want any more apologies.’ His voice was soft, probably just loud enough for Blaine to hear. It had been an order but he’d no intention of actually doing anything about it. He’d just wanted to stop Blaine feeling guilty about what happened but obviously it wasn’t something he could just order away.

He rested two fingers under Blaine’s chin and softly brought it upwards; forcing the younger man to look at him. ‘You don’t need to feel embarrassed or ashamed. Someone did something to you, someone hurt you. That doesn’t make you guilty of anything. I know you might not believe that now and I will keep reminding you for as long as I have to.’ He didn’t try to brush his tears away; Blaine had done a good job of that on his own and sometimes people needed to cry. ‘This doesn’t change how I see you or how I feel about you. You don’t need to hide your tears from me because I want to be there to hold you through them.’ He leaned in and kissed his lips lightly. He wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t soft until Blaine told him he was good and ready for it. ‘If you need to be examined, you will be. And if you want, I’ll stay with you through all that too. You say the words and no-one will keep me away from you.’ He promised him.

Blaine Anderson

"Fuck!" Blaine said immediately when he realised he'd disobeyed an order, bowing his head again. A soft whimper left him when his chin was tilted upwards so their eyes met, wanting to pull away immediately but being too afraid to. The trouble was he did feel embarrassed and ashamed about what had happened. Already, Blaine wanted to apologise again, wanted to beg for forgiveness. But he couldn't, because Alex didn't want him to apologise.

"I... I don't know if I can let you see me like that," Blaine admitted in a tiny voice. "I don't know if he's... he's done any damage. I just know I'm really sore and I'm so embarrassed to be here. G-God, he was so angry with me," Blaine added with a sob, curling his good arm around Alex so he could rest his head on his chest. "I don't want to be away from you though. You make me feel safe, I wasn't lying when I said that. I'm just so embarrassed, Sir."

Alexander Smythe

'Let's say that any apologies can wait until tomorrow.' he suggested, trying to think of a way to appease the situation for now. 'I know you're feeling guilty and I don't want to dismiss that, even if I don't think you need to feel that way, and we can deal with it tomorrow. Or when your arm has been seen to.' he compromised. He wished desperately that he could crawl into the bed next to Blaine so that he could hold him properly, so that he could wrap him up in his arms and swear he'd never let go. 'I don't have to see you like that. I can stay right here next to your head and just hold your hand through it all.' he promised him.

He'd barely finished speaking when a knock on the door signalled the arrival of the doctor. It became apparent that the man knew his Father personally and so he was only too happy to help out the oldest of his children. He knew that meant the man was likely traditional to the bone and would see Blaine as nothing more than a piece of property to be fixed. Alexander explained the situation, trying to gloss over the details so as not to disturb Blaine too much. 'He's in quite a lot of pain, and given the other Master didn't use protection, he'll need to be examined and tested.' He bit his tongue at the man's comment about 'damaged merchandise.'; there was still some sort of persona to portray. He remained at Blaine's side while the doctor went about his examination, trying to exude some sort of comfort to him.

Blaine Anderson

Blaine nodded. He could deal with Alex being in the room if he didn't actually see the damage and stayed at his head. That'd be better than having to deal with the embarrassment of his Master seeing him so broken and beaten. The doctor arriving had Blaine nervous and he gripped at Alex's hand a little tighter, swallowing harshly. He hated Alex explaining what happened and let out a little whine, closing his eyes . But the comment about damaged merchandise broke his heart and he hid his face with his hand, ashamed.

Being examined was nothing short of humiliating. He kept his eyes on Alex, crying silently as the doctor worked. He flinched when he announced that usually results took a few days to arrive but because of who Alex was, he'd get them pushed forwards to be with them in the next few hours. He also told Alex that Blaine would need some stitches, but he could do that immediately and then let the slave rest. Blaine didn't look at the doctor, keeping his face hidden in Alex's chest as the doctor spoke, still crying softly.

Alexander Smythe

He tried to comfort Blaine as much as he could without saying too much. He was afraid that being too affectionate with him would send the wrong message, would attract attention he didn't want them to have. He listened to the doctor's diagnosis and tried not to let himself react too much. 'And his arm?' he prompted, arching a brow. 'Can we have that x-rayed first? I know he might need surgery to have the bone set properly and I'd rather he be out if he has to have stitches.' he explained. He could only imagine how uncomfortable that would be and if Blaine didn't have to be awake for any of it, that would be his preference.

The doctor agreed, although he expressed his lack of understanding that Alex cared so much about how comfortable Blaine could be. He didn't give any response to that; he wouldn't say anything that would hurt Blaine but he couldn't bring himself to be entirely honest either. He didn't want anything getting back to his Father. The doctor left, advising that a nurse would be along shortly to escort them to the X-Ray. He turned to Blaine immediately and hugged him as best he could. 'I'm so proud of you sweetheart. I'm so proud of you. You did so well. You were so good.' he praised him quickly, kissing his hair. 'You're my good boy.'

Blaine Anderson

Listening to them both discuss his health as though he wasn't there hurt, but he knew it was just the way things were. He was a slave, a second-class citizen, and clearly the doctor had similar views as most of their society. Thankfully though the doctor was leaving after a while and Blaine cuddled in closer to Alex, practically melting against him at the praise. "Thank you, Sir," he said softly, looking up at him properly. "I know you told me not to, but I want to apologise because I know how difficult that was... pretending you... don't care."

He trailed off, swallowing harshly. "I just want this over. I know you won't be allowed in with me when I have my x-ray, for obvious reasons, and my surgery. And it terrifies me knowing I won't be with you. I just want this over and done with, Sir. I want to just go. But then I also don't, because that means going back to Wellington and I feel sick just thinking about it."

Alexander Smythe

'You, my sweet boy, need to stop feeling like you have to apologise for things that aren't your fault. I'm glad you recognised that I was pretending. The last thing I want is to attract my Father's attention to any of this. You'll have to meet him eventually but I'd like you to be fit and able. And prepared. He's intense. But my Mother will love you.' He was confident of the last fact he shared. His Mother was a hard women to impress but her children had always been her soft spot. He knew with certainty that she would look at how happy he was with Blaine at his side and be content that he'd made a clever and satisfactory purchase.

'I won't physically be there, no. But I won't be far. I'll be right outside the doors and I'll be right here when you wake up.' He took off his watch and then took Blaine's good wrist. He wrapped the leather and secured the clasp before kissing the back of his hand. 'I don't have a collar to give you so this will have to do for now. When they wheel you away, I want you to try and just focus on this. Think about how much I care for you and the fact that I'm waiting right outside the door for you.' It had crossed his mind that going back to Wellington was a bad idea. He couldn't expect Blaine to heal when his main tormentor was very present. 'Maybe we don't have to go back to Wellington.' There was part of him wanted to go back; if only to see Blaine's brother suffer. 'Maybe we can finish our respective schooling somewhere else. Somewhere people don't know us.'

Blaine Anderson

"I can imagine your father is like mine, so I understand. He only wants perfection at all times. I hope your mother likes me though." Blaine gave a nervous smile, watching as Alex took his good hand, securing his watch onto it. He swallowed and nodded at him, looking down at it and biting his lip. "Thank you, Sir. And I do look forward to the day where I do get to have a collar from you. I like knowing that I'm yours, completely."

He looked up and frowned at the suggestion of moving away. Could he really just abandon everything and leave? Would Alex really do that? "Are you serious?" He asked quietly. "What about your family? Friends? I wouldn't want you to give it all up just because of me and my issues with my brother."

Alexander Smythe

'Designing the perfect one is how I plan to distract myself while you're away from me.' he told him honestly. He hadn't really had time to think about it but he was positively giddy at the idea of being able to put his collar around Blaine's neck. 'But collar or not, I never want you to doubt or forget that you are completely mine. My boy. For the rest of our lives Sweetheart.' he reminded him, unable to stop the smile on his face at the idea. He didn't fully understand his feelings for Blaine, but he cared about him. And it wasn't the same care he'd felt for other people. It was something more.

'You're my priority now. I want you to be the happiest you can be and that can't happen if your brother is even close to the picture.' he shrugged. 'I'll see my siblings I'm sure and most of the people I considered friends were slaves. I won't have the opportunity to see them as and when I like in a few years unless I were to claim them too.' he pointed out. 'Moving away from Wellington wouldn't be the worst thing. Not even close. The world is our oyster B. We can go anywhere.'

Blaine Anderson

The thought of Alex designing a collar just for him had his heart swell and he blushed a little, ducking his head. The pain in his arm was still there, but it'd faded to a dull ache, so Blaine leaned up to kiss him softly. He really was his. And he was safe. Ever since they had gotten their marks, Blaine had been terrified that Braxton would purchase him so he could continue to hurt him until he killed him. Because he knew that was what would have happened. Eventually, Braxton would have killed him, like he'd killed the other person, when they were younger. He shuddered at the thought, focusing instead on Alex.

"You know I'll follow you wherever you go, Sir," he said honestly, looking up and smiling at him. "If you want to move away, we can. There's nothing really stopping us, I suppose. Where did you want to go? I've never left the country so my ideas aren't going to be as good as yours, I'm sure."

Alexander Smythe

He knew instantly where he had to take him. 'Paris. We'll go to Paris.' He'd been in love with the city from childhood. There was something so comforting about the cobbled streets, the hustle and bustle of le marais, and anytime he left, he ached to go back. It was a city full of art and there were musicians on every street corner. He felt confident that Blaine would love it too. 'I have family there; my mother's side. They're considerably more relaxed than my Father would be. We can study somewhere we don't have to board at. We could - we could just create a whole life there Blaine. One in which we aren't defined by anything that's come before.' His excitement rolled off him in waves. It was the first thing that had distracted his mind from the events of the evening up to that point.

'I'm sure you don't want to see your Dad, but if you did want to see him, or your Mom; we can visit them once you're free and clear of this place.' he offered. He didn't know a lot about Blaine's home-life; other than it had been miserable and violent. He'd never heard him mention his Mom so he assumed they weren't close but he couldn't not ask. It thrilled him that Blaine was smiling too. It was the first smile that he'd seen and he hoped despite everything that was to come, it would linger.

Blaine Anderson

Paris. They were going to go to Paris and start a new life together. Blaine could hardly believe it and he stayed quiet as Alex spoke. Was this really happening? He was actually going to spend the rest of his life with someone who cared about him in a city he'd only ever dreamed of visiting? Blaine was nodding at the suggestion and let out a quiet laugh, hardly daring to believe it.

"We... Okay, yeah. Paris. Let's go to Paris. I'm not too worried about my studies, Sir. I figured when I was claimed, I'd be kept as a house slave or whatever so I wasn't sure what was going to happen at the end of it." Blaine reached up to rub his eyes, glancing at the door at the sight of the nurses, ready to take him to be x-rayed. "My mom and I are closer than my father but... She's pretty strict too, she shares the same beliefs as my father. She just wasn't violent and never beat me. She's... she's kind. Strict, but kind."

Alexander Smythe

There was so much to talk about and not nearly enough time to talk about it. Blaine wouldn't be kept as a house slave for one. He'd continue his studies if he wanted to, he could do something with whatever he studied if he wanted to. More than anything, he wanted someone who was interesting, who had their own passions; someone he could have a conversation with. He'd never understood why a person wouldn't want a well-educated slave. They'd have the time to talk about that later. That, and more details about Blaine's home, his family. Whether he actually wanted to visit them or not. They didn't need to plan out their life in that moment. 'We have all the time in the world to talk about everything. We'll work it all out together.'

He walked beside Blaine's bed as he was wheeled away for his X-Ray, keeping their fingers laced together until he had no choice but to let go. 'Keep being brave a little longer.' he whispered to him before he let himself be parted from him. He kissed the back of his hand; deciding showing Blaine some genuine affection was more important that who might take notice of it. 'I'll be right there beside you as soon as you wake up and then we can focus on making sure you recover completely.'

Blaine Anderson

Together. They would work it out together. God, just the thought made his heart ache. Blaine really was going to get a happy ending. He really was claimed by someone who cared about him and his wellbeing. He never thought he'd get this lucky and the fact Alex cared about his comfort was more than anything he could ever wish for.

Blaine was thankful Alex stayed with him as he was taken through the hospital, holding onto his hand tightly. He swallowed harshly when they had to part though and let out a little whimper. But he nodded. He could be brave and god dammit, he would make Alex proud of him. The smallest sign of affection was more than Blaine could ever have asked for and he watched sadly as Blaine was taken through for his x-ray. It didn't take long, thankfully, and in no time at all, the doctors and nurses told him they would give him an anaesthetic for his surgery, meaning he would be unconscious. Blaine was terrified but all he could do was nod, Alex's last words echoing in his head as the drugs took him under - Keep being brave a little longer.

Alexander Smythe

The time Blaine was in surgery was agonising. He'd been assured that it was a routine procedure; they'd seen that sort of damage with slaves many times over and there were never any complications. But the reassurances didn't mean shit when it was his boy facing the potential of complications. He hadn't been able to focus his attention properly on designing a collar. Truthfully, he didn't know Blaine well enough to know what he'd like best, to know what would be best for the type of play they'd engage. It was a more complicated choice than he'd expected it to be.

His Father had got in touch less than an hour into the procedure and that had thrown him. There were no harsh words exchanged; rather an expression of pride that Alex was the first among his siblings to claim a slave. His Father fully supported him demanding the best possible care for Blaine although his reasoning was slightly different. By hour two, he'd lost track of how many times he'd paced the corridor outside the theatre. He didn't know exactly how much time had passed but suddenly they were wheeling Blaine out, confirming that everything had gone well and all he had to do was wait for him to wake up. While the nurses were getting Blaine settled in his room, he made a short stop to the hospital gift shop; he selected a range of sweet and salty snacks, a variety of drinks, several magazines and a teddy bear. He'd be properly fed by the hospital later but chocolate was a quick fix for every discomfort and he wanted to be sure there was some on hand.

He set up his vigil by Blaine's bed, almost dozing himself. He wasn't a fan of waiting but he couldn't force him away in this situation. All he could do was wait.

Blaine Anderson

It started off with the slow, steady beeping. That was the first thing Blaine noticed. It was a steady rhythm and strangely soothing, what with how regular and calm it was. The second thing he noticed was an uncomfortably heavy weight on his arm. It was like there was something holding it down and it tried to move it, only nothing happened. There was no movement, not even a twitch. Damn. That was frustrating.

Blaine wasn't sure how long he lay there, listening to the steady beeping. His eyes just wouldn't open and the beeps were all he could focus on. But then he heard a muffled voice, vaguely familiar, followed by one he didn't recognise. He wasn't alone, wherever he was, and he wasn't sure if that thought was terrifying or comforting. It was what finally gave Blaine the strength to force his eyes open.

The light was bright, brighter than he'd have liked, and he was blinking several times to try and get his eyes to adjust. Everything was white and he was facing the ceiling, laying on his back. His arm was raised on a few pillows, a heavy cast on it. That had him frowning and Blaine made to sit up, but barely twitched on the bed as he came out of his groggy state, groaning softly. He looked around the room, his eyes finding Alex. And then everything came rushing back to him. The pain, Braxton, the surgery. But none of that mattered at the sight of his Master. The man who'd claimed him. And he was smiling faintly, despite how weak he felt and despite the fact he was still on oxygen and attached to a heart monitor.

"A...Alex," he groaned, trying to reach for him with his good hand. "You're h-here."

Alexander Smythe

He would never have said he was known for his patience. Quite the opposite really. When he wanted something, he was accustomed to getting it in a timely fashion. This was not true in the case of Blaine waking up. No matter how much he wished it, how much he said it out loud, Blaine wasn't waking. Patience it would seem really was the only thing for it.

He kissed him as soon as he was awake, as soon as his name left his lips, he was leaning in to kiss him. 'Of course I'm here. I promised you I would be.' he chuckled, 'You'll be pleased to know that everything went according to plan. There were no complications and you're physically fighting fit; although you do need to take it easy, especially over the coming weeks.' he informed, pleased t.

Blaine Anderson

The pressure against his lips had him smiling, despite his mind still being a little fuzzy from the drugs in his system. Alex had stayed by his side and it was definitely a comfort. He looked around the room, though there was no one else in there, and realised the beeping he'd heard was his heart monitor. Blaine looked back at Alex as he spoke, trying to take in what he'd said and smiled a little at him again.

"N-No comp... lications?" He repeated, voice somewhat slurred as he tried to wake himself up properly. God, it was frustrating. His mind was running at a mile a minute, but it was like his body didn't want to react to it and was moving slower than normal. But Alex would understand, he knew that. Really, Blaine was just happy he was there. "That's good. W-When can we go home?"

Alexander Smythe

It was one thing to be told there were no complications; it was a different thing entirely to see Blaine smiling and hear him talking. ‘Relax babe. You’re so impatient.’ He teased fondly. ‘We need to wait for the anaesthetic to wear off completely. It’s late so you’ll have to stay here overnight. Depending on how you’re feeling in the morning, we might be able to leave then.’ He explained. ‘A doctor will just need to check your stitches, but I’ve been told they should dissolve on their own in two/three weeks.’ He continued, reciting the main points of what he’d been told. There was no need to let Blaine in on the fact that he’d taken notes. ‘Your arm could take up to six months to heal properly.’ That was the worst of the news. ‘But it could take much less so we’ll need to come back in about eight weeks to check how it’s healing.’

Ultimately, he’d been relieved by the outcome of Blaine’s surgery. It wasn’t ideal. Ideal would be Blaine never having been hurt but as things could go, no permanent physical damage was a good outcome. ‘I like that you talk about leaving with me as going home.’ He almost felt embarrassed to confess as much. ‘You don’t have to wake up now if you don’t want to Sweetheart. I can only imagine how exhausted you must be. You’ve nothing you need to be awake for anymore.’

Blaine Anderson

Blaine couldn't help but pout at the thought of staying overnight. But he knew the other wouldn't leave his side, which was a relief. He nodded at his words, though his cheeks were slightly pink when they mentioned his stitches. God, it was embarrassing. He knew his arm would take longer and raised it a little, wrinkling his nose at the cast. It was heavy and would take some getting used to.

"We... need to come back? D-Does that mean we... can't go to Paris?" He asked with a small frown. Being called sweetheart made Blaine smile at him and he reached up to rub at his eyes. "I c-can sleep? Will you... stay?"

Alexander Smythe

'We do need to come back, but I suppose it doesn't have to be to this particular hospital.' he replied, trying to ignore the blush on Blaine's cheeks. He wasn't embarrassed for any good reason so he didn't think it would be fair to comment on it; but fuck, if he didn't love how Blaine's cheeks flushed such a beautiful shade of red. 'I'm not going to let you travel right away. It's a long plane journey and you'd just be uncomfortable. But I'm not going to make you go back to Wellington either. Not if I can help it. You and I will simply end our school year a little early this year in order to aid your recovery and we'll talk about Paris more when travelling is more feasible for you.' he explained, trying to keep his tone optimistic in hopes of preventing Blaine from feeling too disappointed.

There was something so innocent and sweet in the way he reached up to rub his eyes. 'Yes Blaine, you're allowed to go to sleep. I won't wake you until morning.' There was a lot for him to organise so part of him hoped Blaine would sleep. He needed to find them somewhere to stay in the interim, he needed to arrange collecting their things from Wellington, he needed to look at schools in Paris, flights, apartments. He couldn't do any of that while Blaine was awake because he wasn't going to waste a second not focused on the slave. He'd suffered through too much to not be his sole focus now. 'Of course, I'll stay.' He'd already asked for some sort of cot bed to be brought in; and despite it not being common practice for Masters to spend the night, he'd been advised that they would do their best to arrange something for him.

Blaine Anderson

Blaine was relieved they wouldn't be going back to Wellington. The thought of going back to the school, back to where Braxton was, terrified him. He wasn't sure how his brother was going to react when he found out he'd been claimed, so Blaine was more than happy to avoid him. "Are we going... to go back and get my things?" He questioned. "And I w-want to say goodbye to my.... roommates. Do you think... when I'm better we c-can go?"

The fact Alex was going to stay with him made him feel a lot better. He rolled over onto his side a little, so he could face him, and squeezed his hand gently. "Thank... you. For s-saving me," he said softly. Blaine's eyes were closed and he knew he'd fall asleep sooner rather than later, but he wanted Alex to know how thankful he really was.

Alexander Smythe

'I was going to go back and get both our things. I didn't think you'd want to go back at all.' he answered, brushing Blaine's hair back from his face. 'But if you want to go back to see your roommates again, to pack your own things, I can arrange that. I don't know how long the Headmaster will give us to do that so we might not be able to wait the full three weeks but we can see how you feel closer to the time.' he nodded. It made sense that his Blaine, his friendly, kind Blaine would want to bid a proper goodbye to the people he'd been living with, the people who had rallied around him when he was hurt.

He felt more driven; he had more purpose than he'd had in weeks. He'd felt like he was drifting since he'd arrived at Wellington and he didn't tell Blaine, but he suspected the slave might have saved him somewhat too. 'You're welcome.' he said simply instead. 'From here on out, I'm always going to be around to save you. No matter what happens, you're going to have me.' He leaned in to kiss his forehead. 'Now sleep B. And dream nice things. Dream about our future.'

#「☾」in a world that is not our own ⟩ verse: wellington prep

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