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pitch-pearl-void · 3 years ago

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Old birthday present for @ectoblood who wanted Phantom and Danny to go to prom together (AU where Danny met Phantom as his own person)

A hand touched Danny’s, but when he turned to look, no one was there. Danny returned his attention to the dance and spread his fingers apart. Invisible fingers slipped into the resulting gap and folded over his hand, squeezing. Danny’s lips twitched into a small smile, relief loosening his tense muscles, excitement quickening his heart.

“I was worried you wouldn’t make it,” he said. The music was loud enough to hide the conversation, and anyway, who would notice?

“I almost didn’t,” Phantom replied. Cool lips pressed a kiss to Danny’s cheek. “Johnny heard it was your prom night, and he insisted on giving me a lecture about human safety measures pertaining to an ‘after party dance’ that I completely blanked on. I think he was just making things up to scare me. It does explain why so many parents volunteered as chaperons this time, though.”

Danny bit his lip and willed his cheeks not to flush. “Speaking of parents, Jazz convinced mine to leave the ghost hunting equipment at home.”

“Oh, good. Perhaps I should stay invisible for now, though.”

Although Danny nodded, he felt something like disappointment sink into his stomach. The hand he held in his own was bare, the touch of Phantom’s skin as always sending little sparks of contact to dance along his nerves. Phantom wasn’t wearing the gloves of his repurposed jumpsuit, which meant he had to be wearing something else. He might have gotten dressed up. He might have borrowed one of Danny’s suits or an outfit more in line with his ghost heritage, but Danny wouldn’t see, couldn’t see, until they left the dance.

Which sort of defeated the purpose.

“Where are Sam and Tucker?”

Danny searched the crowd of dancers until he saw the flash of Sam’s dress pass beneath the shifting-colored lights above the dance floor. He pointed at her as Tucker spun her out, the two of them laughing at the annoyed looks the others were giving them. They were moving too fast for a slow song. They were having fun when they were supposed to stare lovingly into their partner’s eyes.

“Over there,” Danny said. “Sam wanted to ‘liven things up.’ The romance crowd has had a death grip on the DJ all night, and Tucker is helping her protest.”

“Do you think their scheme will work before we have a chance to dance?” Phantom asked, sounding a little worried.

Danny glanced at Phantom, though again he saw nothing. “Do you know how to dance?”

Phantom’s hand squeezed Danny’s, and his voice took on a proud tone. “Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ve been practicing.”

“Human dances or ghost dances?”

Cold air gusted into Danny’s face like a reprimand, but the gym was so hot with so many human bodies gathered inside that Danny closed his eyes and welcomed the breeze. “Human,” Phantom said. But then he added in an undertone, “sort of.”

Danny opened his eyes again and gave Phantom an askance look. “Sort of?”

Phantom glided ahead of Danny and tugged gently on his hand. “I’ll show you.”

Danny resisted the pull and swept his eyes left then right. “Phantom, I’ll look like a total idiot dancing by myself, I can’t—” Cold energy rushed over Danny, and his hand disappeared from sight. He lifted his free hand to be sure it too was invisible. “Oh,” he said. “Right. Duh.”

Phantom chuckled. “Duh.”

He tugged on Danny’s hand again, and this time, Danny allowed Phantom to lead him forward. He located his parents for safety’s sake, but once he saw his mom dancing with his dad, her head resting on his chest, he returned his attention to where Phantom was leading him. Toward the dance floor, obviously, but how were they going to dance while invisible? People would be bumping into them from all directions. Even along the way, Phantom had to pause or weave around the partygoers crossing their path.

They reached the edge of the dance floor, and Danny still didn’t understand how they were going to pull it off, not until his invisible arm rose above his head, his feet lifted off the floor, and his tuxedo jacket floated off his back. Danny widened his eyes. Phantom tugged on his arm, pulling him higher and higher until they floated well above the dancers.

A moment later, Danny felt Phantom kiss his hand. “Ghosts float when they dance. Is it too much?”

The lights were brighter so close to the ceiling. The speakers—located beside the DJ’s table—were quieter and Danny could hear the nervous tension in Phantom’s voice. There was a part deep inside Danny that urged him to say yes. Turning invisible was one thing, allowing a ghost to dance with him in midair should have been another. It wasn’t so long ago he was as frightened of ghosts as the rest of the students, perhaps more so because of his parents’ experiments and lectures.

But things had changed, and the love and excitement stirring Danny’s heart into a wild rhythm were louder than the caution his parents had taught him.

“It’s perfect,” he said, trying to match his voice to his grin so Phantom would understand how happy he had just made him. “How long can you keep this up?”

Between the flight and the invisibility…

“Oh, perhaps two or three songs.” Phantom lifted Danny’s hand upward. Another cool hand pressed against Danny’s lower back and pulled him closer. It was a more traditional dance pose than Danny was used to, and he raised his eyebrows even as his stomach fluttered and swooped. “I should take a break afterward to keep from exhausting myself.”

Danny laughed, mostly due to nervous excitement. “Right! Yeah. Don’t want to fall on the others below.”

“That would be bad,” Phantom agreed. “Are you ready?”

Danny searched blindly for Phantom’s shoulder with his free hand, found his chest—it felt like Phantom wore a jacket, same as Danny—and slid his hand up until it could rest on Phantom’s shoulder. His other hand squeezed Phantom’s. “Ready.”

Phantom moved, rotating them slowly around a fixed point in a waltz. Danny moved his feet out of reflex, but it wasn’t like dancing on the floor at all. Phantom controlled the dance. He spun around Danny and pulled Danny along with him, unrestricted by gravity and the slow steps humans had to take. It felt graceful, effortless, like flying. Danny didn’t have to worry about knowing the steps to a waltz, he just had to enjoy the ride. He grinned out of reflex and relaxed into the dance, allowing Phantom to twirl and spin them around each other. The slow song ended and a faster, more upbeat song began. He laughed, and Phantom echoed him. Sam had won her protest.

Phantom spun Danny out and pulled him back in without Danny needing to do anything more than hold onto his hand, but without being able to see Phantom or Phantom him, Danny crashed into Phantom’s chest with a little grunt of surprise.

“I suppose,” Phantom said, his own voice light with cheer, “we’re high enough no one will notice us if we’re only transparent?”

Given the frequent ghost attacks, Danny doubted they would go unnoticed for long, the humans were too well-trained by this point, but what was life without risks? He wanted to see Phantom, not just feel him.

So even though he knew it was a mistake (and Phantom probably did too), Danny nodded and said, “Yeah, that should work.”

The cold aura of Phantom’s powers still surrounded Danny, but a moment later, Phantom popped into sight. He was transparent, allowing Danny to see the lights and streamers through his head and chest, but there was enough definition there for him to make out his boyfriend’s pleased smile. Phantom’s white hair was messy—his hair was as resistant to being tamed as Danny’s, maybe worse due to the wind he regularly flew through—but he had dressed up in a tux. It wasn’t one Danny recognized, Phantom hadn’t stolen one from his closet, but then where had he gotten it?

It fit him surprisingly well…

Phantom’s smile widened, revealing sharper-than-normal teeth. “Let’s try this again.”

He swung Danny into motion. It was even easier for Danny to lose himself to the aerial dance than the first time. Danny could see Phantom’s expression, the softness in his eyes, the happy smile matching his own. They spun and twirled around each other, sometimes losing sight of one another, but always held together by their clasped hands. Danny laughed freely, unafraid of being heard over the loud, cheerful song.

So high above the other dancers, Danny saw only Phantom and the streamers hanging from the lights. They could have been dancing alone up there, surrounded by music and bright, shifting lights.

“When we can finally dance on the ground together,” Danny said, beaming as Phantom spun them around without any effort on Danny’s part, “I’m going to lead.”

Phantom laughed. “Only fair,” he agreed.

The song ended soon after. Another slow song took its place, and Danny swore he heard Sam cry out “Oh, come on!” but he didn’t mind. Before Phantom could settle them into position for another waltz—seriously, where had he learned to dance? From Dora?—Danny grabbed ahold of Phantom’s shoulder, let go of his hand, and set his other hand on his opposite shoulder. Phantom looked startled.

“You just place your hands on my waist,” Danny explained. “Then we sway to the music.”

Phantom followed his instructions, though his head tilted in confusion. “That simple?”

Danny smiled, feeling soft and warm inside. “Yeah. Most of us don’t know how to do those, uh, traditional dances. We just want to hold each other and let the music set the mood.”

And this song in particular suited Phantom. It was about finding your hero in someone unexpected; an old song, but Danny’s heart swelled as he and Phantom stared at each other. Phantom floated them in a gentle sway, no longer trying to match the beat. He looked as content as Danny felt, but soon his cheeks flushed green, and he looked down at the crowd.

“This song suits you,” he told Danny. “It’s like you’re singing to me.”

Danny widened his smile. He slipped his arm around Phantom’s neck, pulled him closer, and laid his head on his shoulder, his other hand sliding down to rest over his core. Sometimes he thought he could sense emotions from it, though at the moment he only felt it vibrating beneath his hand. Phantom encircled his arms around Danny’s waist and gently rested his cheek on Danny’s head. He continued to rock gently to the music, but it was even slower than before, as though Phantom wasn’t really thinking about the dance anymore.

Inevitably, it had to end.

“Oh my gosh!” someone shouted over the slow song. “Is that—that’s Phantom! Phantom is dancing with someone up there, look!”

Phantom swore and Danny tensed. Before Danny could lift his head from Phantom’s shoulder, Phantom lifted one hand and cupped the back of Danny’s head, pushing Danny’s face against his neck, hiding him.

“Ghost kid!” Jack shouted, sounding both excited and frustrated. After all, Jazz had convinced him and Maddie to leave all their ghost hunting equipment at home for just this reason.

Others began shouting too, disturbing the song to the point the DJ simply stopped playing it. Danny groaned.

“I doubt they will calm down even if I turn us invisible again,” Phantom whispered in Danny’s ear.

“Probably not,” Danny reluctantly agreed.

“Would you like to go somewhere else?”

“Where?”

“The park? I flew past on my way here. Fireflies were lighting up the walkways, but there weren’t very many people around.”

Danny’s breath caught. Leave the dance? Take a romantic walk through the park, just the two of them? That actually sounded so much better than attending prom, though he wouldn’t say no to dancing with Phantom again. “Yeah,” he said, a little breathless. “Yeah, let’s do that. We can walk toward a restaurant. I can buy you dinner, make this a proper date.”

Phantom laughed and then kissed Danny’s ear. “Sounds wonderful.”

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #pitch pearl #pitchpearl #au where they were never the same person #fluff and not much else lol

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btsandvmin · 3 years ago

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A personal dilemma

I feel like I have to explain properly why I have reacted the way I did and why the asks about me not doing videos for Vmin affected me so much. I am sorry for dwelling on this subject so much but it is something that is important to me and effect what I do and how I do it a lot.

This post is a bit confused and I might also come across both as a hypocrite and as "high and mighty". But I believe every person has a responsibility for what they do no matter how small the effect. And I need to get this off my chest. This is a conflict within me that I don't have an answer to yet.

For the last few days I've seriously considered if I should continue with writing analysis for Vmin or not. Because at the end of the day I know what I do have a sort of snowball effect that is out of my control. So asking me to not do videos in worry about Vminies getting delusional faster or me being seen as a analysis maker more similar to some ji/kookers or tar/kookers like tkk/lives made me wonder not only if putting out videos was something that bring more bad than good, but if making any analyses at all was something that brought more bad than good.

Even if I try hard to stay away from sounding delusional and to warn my readers of the problems with believing the things I point out and the narratives I share might still lead to more confidence in Vmin being superior or real. Even if it's not my intention I can't control what people do after reading or watching my material.

Thus if creating leads to more bad for both the Vmin community and perhaps in the long run even Vmin... How can I in good conscience keep doing it?

I always believed and hoped that my way of writing, and of being open and transparent with the problems with shipping analysis would rather at least to some extent halt the ones reading and understanding my stance from turning delusional or over confident etc. That I could be clear about the difference between facts, theories and narrative and make others aware too.

When I started this blog I was just shipping happily and reblogged others posts. Until the "you can't ship Vmin they are friends" issue bothered me enough to write about it so I wrote "The “bromance” issue". Then I kept making material to show why Vmin is just as good and easy to ship romantically as any other ship. Thus my 10 reasons to ship posts etc.

The first time I truly got into analysing territory was with my first song analysis. And even then it was just a feeling that the songs could match and speculation mostly for fun. Vmin kept doing things, and yet I saw a lot of people get angry or defensive just for shipping Vmin. For example as 4 o'clock came out and Vminies got attacked for "making it about Vmin". Already feeling like Vmin's songs kind of fit together, and how other shippers tried to make the songs about their own ships (including 4 o'clock) I started to look closer at various ship analyses and seeing the lack of Vmin analyses compared to other maknae ships made me feel like people just zoomed in on their own ship and ignored everyone else. I couldn't help but want to add my own Vmin interpretations. I wanted to add a Vmin perspective as a sort of counter weight. Especially since I felt the things I saw had more to them than similar theories from other ships. For example the songs, being soulmates, using army as a substitute for each other or my own version of Vlive analysis, which was that Vmin seemed to avoid it rather than them hiding in each other's room. Other ships had these theories, despite Vmin having at least some of these things confirmed. So in a way, the soulmate claim and 4 o'clock was my starting point to look at Vmin in a different way and a bit after that I started making analyses.

It felt weird to see all of these things go ignored when other ship communities made their followers believe in the relationships with a lot less than I felt Vmin had. I never got confident that Vmin was real and I still think the odds of any ship being real aren't that big. But I did feel like many people completely ignored Vmin both as soulmates and as a ship.

So, while asking my fellow Vminies to be careful with believing I kept looking at Vmin and added my biased theories to show it could very much be done with Vmin as well. I never wanted to make people delusional, but having been in many fandoms before I also knew that with size that is something that can't be avoided. I saw that as BTS kept growing and as big Vmin moments happened, that more and more people shipped them. It made me happy. But I also knew it would mean more and more would eventually start to question Vmin the way other ships got questioned. I really think it's something that happens eventually with enough of a following. There are so many ships in Kpop that people believe in and try to prove, it definitely wasn't exclusive to BTS. (You can even look outside Kpop at things like the Sherlock or Supernatural or even Hunger Games fandoms where many speculated that the actors weren't just close, they were romantically involved.)

I wanted to talk about Vmin, but I didn't want to be one of those that told people what to think and to believe me no matter what. I wanted peope to question without "knowing" what the truth was. I was hoping to bring something different than just the safe "this is just my thoughts and you can take it or leave it" disclaimers. I wanted to explain the problems and to remind ourselves (me included) that shipping is something that can easily turn into more if you don't actively remind yourself that we actually don't know the truth. We have narratives that seem to make sense, but so does other shippers... So for many of these belivers it is impossible to be right. Not everyone can be right about their "truth", if anyone, since they go against each other. If Vmin turn out to not be together I do not want to be the one responsible for people believing they were real, only to get hurt when they aren't.

This is something I've always felt, and as I kept writing analysis I always wondered if I really should. Especially since I saw some Vminies get inspired by me or even taking some of my theories and run with them as facts rather than the theories they were. I put things out there, moments and ideas. A narrative for Vmin. And I saw others adapt them and go further with them. I wasn't sure how to feel as I realized my blog perhaps contributed to Vminies feeling more suspicious and slowly more confident in Vmin being more real than other ships.

Even if it was my goal to make people look at Vmin, I guess with all the things Vmin did it all started to feel more "real" for me too. So many of my theories seemed to work and even get proven or added new material. The songs kept coming and Vmin kept being Vmin. But I also knew this exact thing happend with ji/kookers after G.C.F came out. New material that "confirmed" their beliefs and in turn allowed them to become more confident in being right. So I kept reminding myself not to get swept away, because in the end I don't think no matter how much we have gotten, that it has to prove anything besides how much Vmin mean to each other. Romantic or platonic truly doesn't matter.

Another thing that makes a difference to me is also the way I view the different ships if they would actually be real. For example watching ji/kook and ji/kook theories it seems pretty clear they don't mind people shipping them or seeing things between them. I've never seen Jimin be careful, but instead rather bold and almost pushy, with moments with JK. If Ji/kook is together their shippers too believe that they want people to know. With Vmin I saw it a bit differently... I've seen Jimin be careful with how he and Tae comes across since 2014. Why I don't know. But if we imagine there to actually be something between Vmin, then it doesn't seem like it's something Jimin wants us to know. Taehyung is a bit bolder, but either way the "narrative" I see for Vmin if they would be real is that they are careful with getting exposed. Thus there is also that factor to consider when writing theories about them. If Vmin would be real somehow, and they don't want to be "exposed" how is what I do the right thing?

I have had a post in my drafts for a while and I wanted to add it here in case you are interested. After all, this isn't something new that came after the video asks, but rather something I've always questioned. Which is why it really got to me when I got asked to stop doing something for the sake of the community, myself and Vmin.

This is something I wrote a while ago and I decided not to post at the time. I hope you will understand my feelings a little bit better after reading all of this.

I hope you understand where I am coming from and excuse me for generalizing and speaking about the Vmin (and other ships) community as if it's one big force and not many individuals.

***

Now, I have debated for a long time if I should talk about this at all and basically take a stance in a way I would prefer not to. I know I will lose followers over this, and that's ok. I can't force anyone to listen. But with the way I see the Vmin community grow I also see the confidence in Vmin being real grow. It's natural and happens with all ships eventually, but I still hope Vminies can look at shippers from other communities and realize the same kind of reasoning applies to us all.

I get more messages that sound borderline delusional now than ever.

I always suspected we would reach this point, because again, as things get more normalized and ok to talk about the bolder statements and theories will become. It literally happens with all ships, slowly at first and then gradually worse and worse until you reach truly delusional levels where Big Hit are playing up other relationships to hide the truth or trying to create a glass closet for another ship and where every choice and action has a possible agenda. I don't think Vminies will get worse than other ships that are much bigger and bolder. But I do think we have already changed a lot in the last year. Even looking at my own posts I seem to have at some point escalated from "Vmin seem to have these push and pull moments" to "Vmin's push and pull" if you see the difference. It might be small, but it definitely matters in how my views comes across.

When I write I do try to present facts and then speak carefully and not confidently about narratives or meanings. If we take my song analysis for example I think there is a substantial amount of things even when just looking at facts. But, saying what those facts might mean will in the end always remain a biased guess. Especially since other shippers have their similar theories as well that they believe in 100%. I mean, I could make a case for Tae and Hobi's songs being connected as well. I've seen analysis like this from all shippers at this point, and I can't dismiss them anymore than they can dismiss mine. (As long as they keep to facts.)

I am careful, and even then I see some of my theories being talked about as fact, or att least very close to facts.

From what I have seen I have moments between Vmin I have notcied and shared that haven’t been picked up on before I did it. I still have some things like this I haven’t shared at all, simply because I think fans would run with them and become more delusional simply by knowing about them.

Sadly, the way things are going I feel uncertain if I should share more of these things at all. I don’t want to have to go around and debunk Vmin moments or urge people to watch other ships, because in the end every person has the right to enjoy a ship in their own way. But I do think confidence is dangerous no matter how good moments we get.

Ji/kookers got a lot worse after GCF Tokyo and started to talk about how Big Hit might be working towards a glass closet. And that might sound ridiculous, but I have seen Vminies say the same with the way Vmin has been "shown" as Friends came out and other pretty good Vmin moments from the last year. The question of "Do you think something is up with Vmin?" or "Do you think they are planning something based on the amount of moments we get?" are questions I have gotten many times.

You might think I am being too careful, but because I have been in many fandoms in a period of over 15 years I literally see the same development happen for all different kinds of shipping communities. Real and fictional. Where the fans get more and more confident as the groups gets bigger. It’s a gradual change towards feelings certain and allowing more logical leaps to fill the gaps, but it will get faster and faster once it starts.

I don’t want Vminies to get more and more similar to how many ji/kookers and tae/kookers act and think. Where we find suspicion in everything and allow ourselves to feel confident. (Or worried whenever something goes against that belief.)

I might sound a hypocrite considering I do write analysis on Vmin, but I am sorry to say, the way things are going maybe I shouldn’t anymore.

Every ship in BTS have moments, and every ship in BTS even have believers who truly KNOWS their ship is real. I often used to get the question “do you know this or that about this other ship” and “if you only looked at and knew about xxx you wouldn’t ship Vmin” etc. And honestly, they have a point. Only I think it works both ways for all shippers. We all mostly look at our own ship and have our own narratives and reasons to think they make the most sense. But as soon as we allow narratives to sound like the only or most logical explenation we have lost a big part of our ability to question others and ourselves. That's why I wanted to add the Vmin narrative in the sea of ji/kook and tae/kook theories.

Recently I posted Can shipping turn into conspiracy theories? and part of the reason I did so was because I have seen an increased tendency in the Vmin community to walk this thin line between shipping and belief.

I feel very conflicted honestly. I want our community to try and stay away from being sure, no matter how compelling the arguments. Again, I have literal hundreds of pages about Vmin being weird or doing things I think make them the most likely to be real in some form when looking at BTS.

AND I AM STILL NOT GOING TO BE CONVINCED.

I have followed another group where members kiss when drunk and talk like they ship each other and even if a ship might seem real there is just too much we don't know. And a lot about other ships we decide to ignore or don't know. I have been accussed of being a ji/kooker because I won't say ji/kook being real is impossible. But how can l? How would me saying ji/kook can't be real be any different to the aggressive ji/kookers who has come to me to say "Vmin is cute but ji/kook is real".

Of course every person might have their own level of what might convince them, but we also know that literally millions of other people are convinced of completely different things with incredible certainty.

I don't want to be scared to put my theories out there so they can be taken as facts.

I have said it before, and I know shippers are drawn to confidence, but that's the exact reason to why I choose not to be confident even though it gets me more hate and less followers.

***

So this is what I wrote a while ago... And hearing people worry about what might happen if I start making videos just made these thoughts resurface. Especially since I didn't feel that video was very analytical, but it still likely would make people notice Vmin in a "what if they are real" way. Again, I use moments that exists, but I also add them in a different context, with a Vmin narrative. If what I write or make seems legit and makes sense then my tone of being careful might not matter. People will get exposed to moments and ideas I highlight and then take them further. That's why I hesitate.

I don't think I am big or influential enough to do much, but just doing 'a little' shouldn't excuse it if it in the end leads to something bad, more than it leads to something good. That's why adding YouTube as a platform doesn't make much of a difference in my mind if I still do what I do here. Sure YouTube is bigger and things get spread faster... But I write much more analytical and questionable things here than I did in that video, and even if it gets spread slower and to less people isn't what I do here in a sense then worse?

If me making videos makes some of you nervous (which I understand and relate to) then what will it lead to if I post basically a book on everything weird I've seen and thought in regards to Vmin?

I want to feel like I add more good to the community than I bring bad. I always thought I was doing the former as I tried to make my followers feel open minded rather than convinced. Now I don't know where I stand anymore and so I feel even more unsure of what to do.

Maybe I should have kept this all to myself and not vented out my worries to you. But I take this rather seriously and while I love what I do and love being part of the Vmin community I am feeling conflicted and I felt like sharing why might be good for me.

I know this was long and I applaude you if you managed to read through it all. I am truly so happy to have gotten so many nice and understanding and kind messages from you all. And many of you even saying you are happy you came across my blog and that I brought a new perspective, made you more open minded or even kept you from turning delusional. It makes me feel like I at least did some things right. I purple you all. 💜

#vmin #btsandvmin #personal #my post #shipping vs believing

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sleepybutwriting · 4 years ago

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May I please request Aizawa and any of the dads of your choice with a baby YPH that can turn invisible at will. Like if they get shy or emotional, they turn invisible along with what’s touching their skin. For example, poor baby gets nervous for first day of daycare, and just completely vanish from sight. The daycare workers have to call the dads to lure them back out.

I feel very iffy on this so I’m sorry about how it turned out, but I hope you like it anyway!

“Aizawa Sensei!” One of his students called out, awakening him from his nap. Today he was even grouchier than usual because he had to get up early to drop you off at daycare with Hizashi and Hawks. He had intended to go by himself, but the two of them insisted on tagging along for your ‘big day.’

Aizawa awoke with a sharp glare glancing at his students trying to find the one responsible for waking him up. It was Momo who chose to speak up first, pointing in the direction of his desk. “You’re phone had been going off for a while now.”

Aizawa groaned unzipping himself from his sleeping bag and picking up his phone mid-ring. “Hell-”

“Aizawa, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all morning. Why weren’t you answering? We have a situation!” Hizashi shouted from the other end, causing the man to flinch slightly at the high volume.

“I was sleeping. Now, what the hell is goi-”

“Y/N disappeared from daycare. They can’t find her.” Hizashi explained, “I’ve been looking and Hawks is already on our way, but we could use an extra pair of hands. Do you think you could stop by?” Hizashi sounded frantic and out of breath. It was obvious he was starting to get worried, even without seeing him.

“Yeah, I’ll see if I can get Vlad to cover and be there as fast as I can.”

“Hurry!”

The daycare workers had let the kids go outside for an early recess as they dealt with the situation. Hizashi was calling out your name everywhere, practically on the brink of tears, while Hawks was arguing with the workers.

“We told you about her quirk and that you had to keep an eye on her. How did this happen?”

“S-sir, we only looked away for a second and she was gone.”

“Hawks,” Aizawa called out, alerting everyone of his arrival, “It doesn’t matter what happened then, what’s important is finding Y/N now. Everyone split up so we can find them.”

The daycare workers went back to work, watching the kids outside while the dads continued the search inside the room. They tried everything, even bribery. Offering you candy, toys, and games, but still, you made no appearance. There was only one thing left that Aizawa could think of to offer you.

“Y/N, if you come out now, I promise we won’t make you go to daycare anymore. Not until you feel like it, okay? Just come on out kiddo. Please?”

A few seconds passed before they heard the creaking of a closet door open, they all followed the direction of the sound to reveal an empty doorway. Aizawa said nothing, just kneeled down and opened his arms so you could run into them. Being in Aizawa’s arms seemed to calm you down a bit, as you slowly began turning less and less transparent. “I’m s-sorry.” you whispered out. A small sniffle leaving your nose.

“That’s alright kiddo. We shouldn’t have pushed you before you were ready. We’re just glad you’re okay.” Aizawa soothed, as Hizashi rubbed up and down your back.

Hawks collapsed to the floor dramatically draping his arm over his eyes. “Yes, yes. Very touching, but if you scare me like that again, I might have a heart attack. So please leave the sneaking away to a zero from now on,” He groaned.

#sleepybutwriting #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #dad aizawa #aizawa imagine #dadzawa #dad mic #dadzashi #hawks #hawks x reader #hawks imagine #keigo takami x reader #kiego x reader #yamada hizashi #hizashi x reader #present mic imagine #present mic x reader #yph #young pro hero

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unabashegirl · 4 years ago

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“Wear something noticeable”(II)

Author’s note: HELLO EVERYBODY! I hope you all have a wonderful day! I know this is long overdue! I read all your request asking for the second part.

If you have read the first part then STOP 🛑. Click on my masterlist, scroll all the way down and check out the first part! (or just click here)

I also remind you that the REQUESTS ARE OPEN for all of your HARRY concepts, imagines, fanfics! Just let me know!

Enjoy! 💛💕

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masterlist

WORD COUNT: 3.2K

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The task was easier said than done. She stayed up hours, rummaging through her closet looking for the perfect outfit. She tried on every single outfit and pretended to dance in front of the mirror just to get a notion of what she could potentially look like. At some point, she even managed to tear up, sitting on a pile of clothes that she classified as too basic. At some point, she considered calling Harry and canceling. She cursed at the day she stopped shopping in abundance and keeping tabs on the latest trends. Eventually, the closet ran out of choices for her. She had to make an executive decision with what she had laid out in the bed.

At seven o'clock, a black suburban showed up at the front of her apartment complex. She felt eager and very nervous. It was her first proper concert. She had gone to see the Jonas Brothers when she was younger, but she could hardly remember it. Plus, it's not the type of concert that you gloat to your friends. Y/N had also never attended a concert on her own. On top of everything, she didn't know anyone aside from Harry. Nonetheless, he was a sufficient reason for her to attend. She enjoyed every passing second by his side. Harry made her forget her fears and the hardships of life with a single look and simple conversations.

The arena was smaller than she foresaw. As soon as the car pulled outside the back entrance, she was able to hear the boisterous cheers from his fans.

”Welcome” A woman a bit older than her greeted her. Aside from the big smile, she wore a headpiece attached to the back of her ear. ”Y/N, right?”. She responded by giving her a small nod. She felt intimidated by the multitude of people around them. ”I am Alice. I am at your service. Whatever you need — just let me know”. By the time that Alice started leading the way into the arena, the car that had brought her had driven away.

They quietly walked down a wide, grey hallway with the black boxes of equipment piled on the sides. Every step they took made the volume of the cheers more intense. She was glad that she had opted to wear sneakers. Who could stand in a crowded room with heels on for almost three hours? — an actual masochist.

It took them a few seconds until they finally came across two double doors. It was behind the doors where most people hung around. Y/N kept her head down and ignored that evident gazes from others. Alice led the way into a smaller room with a more cozy atmosphere. The room was carpeted but had a smaller, printed one over it. A coffee table was placed on with several, crinkled bottles scattered over it. It reminded her of her nightstand at home and how she needed to clear it out before inviting someone in.

”Harry will come back in a few” Y/N smiled at Alice and once again she nodded. ”please help yourself to any drinks or snacks on the table,” She said pointing to a large table at the end of the room covered with them.

”Thank you, Alice. You are really kind” Y/N finally said before she was left on her own. She was relieved that she would get to see Harry before the show started. Seeing him had the potential to make her anxiety and nervousness come to an end. She just needed a few seconds with him, maybe a hug too, even a kiss if she was lucky.

She walked around the room and came to halt when she came across a rack of clothes. She wasn't oblivious to Harry’s notorious good sense of fashion. It was actually the reason why she was so nervous when she chose her outfit. He made his daily life a runway show. He served looks.

Y/N reached out to run her fingers over the fabrics but stopped herself before she could. Her hands suddenly felt dirty and not worthy of touching the expensive material. She stared at them for a few minutes before taking a water bottle and settling down on the edge of the couch. A few minutes passed by and her social media wasn’t enough to keep her entertained for so long. Every time someone walked passed or heard a loud voice, she would sit up straight and block her phone. She only stopped looking at the door when her social media scrolling came to an abrupt halt by an incoming phone call.

”Hello” His rough, heavy voice was enough to put a smile on her face instantly. ”I hope they are treating you right” Harry stared out of the window of the car, on his way to the arena. His previous commitment had taken longer than expected. He was late for the show.

”They are. Alice is wonderful” Y/N kept smiling. She was infatuated with him. It all seemed so silly to her, but it felt right. Harry also kept smiling, hiding his happiness from the rest of the crew in the car.

None of them said a word; they just listened to each other's breathing.

”It's all a bit intimidating — isn't it?” Harry addressed the elephant in the room. He knew she probably had a million questions about his life under the spotlight and his work.

”It’s just hectic,” She answered truthfully. Y/N had observed multiple people running pass the dressing room a million times in the last half an hour.

”I’ll answer all your questions after the show, ” He wanted transparency before everything. He was tired of keeping his significant others in the dark with the fear that they wouldn't be able to handle the baggage that came with dating him.

”After the show? I am not going to get to see you before?” Harry could sense her small frown from miles away.

”My radio appearance took longer than expected. I had every intention of seeing you, ” Harry revealed. Last night’s kiss hadn't been enough for him. Most of the night, he rolled around in bed, replaying the events in his mind. He couldn't get over the way her lips tasted or the tingling that she left on his. He craved her. ”what are you wearing?”

”That is highly inappropriate, Styles, ” Her cheeks turned crimson red as she bit down the inside of her cheek attempting to prevent a smirk from forming.

”Just for me to know what to look out for” Harry felt nervous. He had a respectable experience with performing for millions of people. It was Y/N presence that made everything much different.

”I am not giving anything away, ” She wanted him to look for her.

”that’s unfair, ” He states. Harry’s initial intention was to keep an eye on her all night. He wanted to see her unravel and let go.”I guess I'll just have to look hard enough, ” However, he enjoyed the chase. It made the concert even more entertaining.

”I guess so, ” Just as she said that Alice marched her way into the room; interrupting the intimate conversation between the couple. ”Alice is in here,” She tells him.

”That’s my queue to hang up” Alice was there to take Y/N to the front of the stage. ”Tell her that I’ll be there in 3,” He was just pulling up to the front of the arena. ”I'll see you out there, ”

” Okay” She smiled as she rose to her feet and slowly walked to his assistant. They said quick goodbyes and hung up. It was showtime.

---

Noisy was an understatement of what the cheers for him were when he walked out with all his pride. Y/N strategically placed herself slightly left to where his mic stood. She was within the ten first rows in between a group of girls, younger than her. They even had a small heart attack when he first stepped out.

Y/N was delighted that she had declined Alice's offer to stay within the VIP area. She would have missed the incredible euphoria that the crowd provided. Everyone danced and sang with the stranger beside them. His music and presence were enough to break the distrust that one stranger felt toward the other. They all felt like a big family for three whole hours.

Y/N was more than mesmerized by the energy that the beautiful man on stage brought to every single song. He was confident, fearless, and funny on stage. The tone of his voice was enough to make a shiver run down her spine and for her skin to cover with goosebumps in a matter of seconds. She was captivated by him.

“How are you?” He smiles as he reaches over for a guitar. The crowd roared for him as he strapped it over his shoulders and refreshed himself with a water bottle. “I hope yeh like the next song” It's the last thing that he said before To Be So Lonely started to get played.

While everyone in the area was captivated by his voice, he was too distracted by searching for her. His eyes first scanned the front of the stage. There were a few times he had to do double-takes before he moved on to the left side.

A soft light shined over the crowd, illuminating the faces of the first few rows; and that's when he spotted her. It didn't take him much time to find her. Her beauty singled her out of the bunch. Their eyes connected as a smile grew on his face. He felt instant relief knowing that she was safe and wasn't getting trampled by the other fans. Alice had let him know about the change of plans. She was kinda embarrassed and disappointed that she hadn't been able to convince her. Her stubbornness made him like her even more. She was the cause behind the big smile that he wore at the beginning of the concert. As he watched her from the stage, he didn't regret changing the setlist at the last minute. Playing a relatively slow song had allowed him to find her quicker.

There wasn't much any of them could say with words to the other, but their eyes and smiles spoke millions. Harry couldn't stop smiling and chuckling as she gave him thumbs up from the crowd. Mitch — who stood close by couldn't ignore their intimate interaction among the chaos. It was cute.

After finding her, he was able to fully enjoy the concert to its maximum capacity. That is not to say that he didn't try to impress her with her voice or terrible jokes. Watermelon Sugar was the closing track for the night. Harry tried his best to join the fun, but it was difficult to pay attention to something else than her.

Y/N danced around with her arms in the air, raised above her, and her hair flying everywhere. She had even danced with the other young woman beside her. It was always refreshing to see someone enjoying the music rather than trying to get a picture or a video of him. He even caught her at one point singing along. He was rather surprised that she had taken the time to learn one of his songs.

Before Harry sang the last verse of the song, someone gripped Y/N’s forearm. It was Alice— escorting her back to backstage. In order to prevent her from getting lost with the large crowd. Y/N gave Harry a small smile before following Alice back.

She was back in the dressing room when he strode in with all his glory. He was slightly sweaty and the buttons of his shirt popped open, giving her a clear view of his chest tattoos. Harry held a hand towel and a brand new water bottle. She immediately stood up when she saw him.

He basically had to shut the door on everyone’s faces for privacy. He even locked the door before walking towards her. Harry took the time to observe her and take in her appearance without any disruption before he said anything. She wore a suit like his except she had omitted a shirt. It was sage with a low cut jacket, singed at the waist, showing a modest cleavage.

”a suit, huh?” He finally said as he stood before her. His hands ached to touch her. ”very clever” He adds. There was something oddly attractive about a woman wearing a suit and dressing just like him.

” I thought if I wore something similar to what you wear then you would find me quicker” Harry nodded as he leaned down and finally eased his craving.

”You look beautiful” he whispered against her lips as he settled on the couch. He spread out his legs, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

”You looked amazing out there” She sat down close enough to have their thighs touching. ”You were born to do this. The energy out there was insane and your voice is just— wow” Harry’s heart warmed up at her kind words. He reached out and touched the side of her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

”I’ve got to talk to a few people and then we can go,” he usually hung around the arena until everyone left. Mostly because he had nothing to go home to only an empty house. Now with Y/N around, he just wanted to be in the privacy of his own home with her — alone. ” I hope you don't mind”.

”That’s okay. I understand," Y/N leaned towards his touch and placed a soft peck on his hand for reassurance. She wasn't as nervous as before. His kiss and gentle touch had been enough to ease her mind. Harry kissed her delicately and took his time tending her lips. His ringed fingers gripped her hips, pulling her over his lap. Y/N's finger tangled on the hair of the back of his head. Just as she settled comfortably on him, a knock disrupted their makeout session.

"Yeah?" Harry yelled loudly with his eyes closed, he kept his forehead against hers, as they tried to catch their breaths.

"Harry— there are some people that would like to meet you" It was Alice behind the door. She had been making sure that Harry's car was ready for him and that security was holding up when they came looking for her. People were looking for Harry and for the first time, his dressing room door was shut and locked.

"I am coming!" He leaned back, smiling at her red, swollen lips. He cupped her face and pecked her lips. "Where have you been all this time?" Y/N shrugged while smiling, proceeding to get off his lap.

Harry sighed before opening the door. Alice nervously walked into the room, her gaze instant fell on Y/N. She was still awkwardly sitting on the couch, running her fingers through her hair with swollen, fresh kissed lips. Alice quickly connected the dots and felt embarrassed to have interrupted her boss's rendezvous. Alice shyly waved at Y/N from afar before leading the small caravan of people that wanted to see the great Harry Styles.

"Since when do you lock yourself in here? What's goi—" Mitch hits the breaks as soon as he sees Y/N, shyly standing beside the couch. She had quickly fixed her outfit and had made sure that nothing was popping out of her cleavage. "Hi" He smiled walking past Harry with his hand stretched out for her to take.

"Hello" She gently shakes his hand.

"This is Y/N" Harry introduces her to Mitch as he walks around the coffee table towards the drinks.

"Mitch. It's so nice to finally meet you" Harry had told him about her. In Harry's defense, he had to force it out of him after he persisted in changing the setlist.

"You too" Mitch could see that she was more of an introvert than the other girls that Harry had dated. She defiantly was unique, truthful to what Harry had said about her.

Before Harry could say anything else and spark conversation between the girl that he liked so much and basically his best friend, he was pulled by Alice to meet a few celebrities and their children. He kept an eye on Y/N, even though she sat across the room with Mitch and the rest of the band.

He was talking a few pictures when he heard her soft laugh. She was surely having a great time. He felt jealous that he wasn't part of the conversation. He felt jealous that he had to work and couldn't enjoy her company like any other couple would.

Thankfully, he went through the group of people quickly. Eventually only leaving him, Alice, Y/N, and the band in the room.

"Your car is ready whenever you need it, Harry" Alice said before leaving. Her job for the night was over. She could finally leave and get off her feet.

Harry grabbed his blazer that hung on the back of the couch before approaching the small group.

"Pasta is so much better" He heard from Y/N as he walked up.”There are no buts”.

"Ready to go?" Harry interrupted their conversation.

"Pasta or Pizza, Harry?" Mitch asked, trying to put an end to a quick debate that they had tumbled in.

"Pasta without a doubt" Harry didn't think it twice. He could eat it every day and wouldn't have a problem with it. Whenever he visited Italy, that's what composed most of his diet.

"Told you" Y/N stuck her tongue out at Mitch as she stood up.

"He is only saying that because he likes you," Y/N blushed while Harry's hands found their way around her hips. "I hope he brings you back and doesn't keep you only to himself,".

"No promises" Harry rested his chin on top of her head as a smile grew. He was happy that his friends and the people closest to him liked her.

"It was really nice hanging out with all of you tonight. Also, the show was amazing. You did a tremendous great job" Mitch smiled at Harry as he gave her a kiss at the top of her head in response to her sweet comment.

"You are germ, Y/N," Mitch said before turning to Harry. "I'll see you tomorrow?". Harry nodded before he intertwined their fingers and pulled Y/N out of the room.

"Where are we going?" Y/N asked as she buckled herself.

"I am starving. I thought we could get some take out and stay at mine? So, we could talk and watch movies. Would you like that?"

"I would love to" She smiled as Harry leaned in and pecked her lips.

Harry picked up an order from their favorite restaurant, the same where they had first met. They sat on his carpeted, living room floor for hours. They stayed up until the sun came back up — talking about everything including his music. Y/N asked about SHE and what had contributed to the end of their relationship. He answered with all his sincerity and revealed his biggest secrets to her. She had something that made him feel comfortable and safe. He felt like he could be his authentic self. He could be as goofy or as silly as he wanted and he knew that she wouldn't leave or turn his back on him. Harry just knew that this relationship was going to last long. So it did. He never let go.

——

SEND YOUR REQUESTS!

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azz-clazz-shit · 4 years ago

Text

2. Rain by @azz-clazz-shit

Inspired by @dreaming-of-assclass 's spring prompt list.

Characters: Karma Akabane

Wordcount: 1266

Summary: Karma in a cool, rainy Saturday. Also, a cat?

»»————-　♡　————-««

Karma woke up to this Saturday morning coddled up in his blanket, keeping whatever body heat he had from the cold air. Even though it was the morning, no ray of sunshine was out for it was covered with grey clouds, letting out dewdrops of water.

He tried to shut his eyes shut, hoping to go back to sleep but it seems that his body did not agree. He groaned, sitting up right, with the blanket wrapped around him like a cape revealing his sleepwear, consisting of a plain shirt and sweatpants. He glared at the clock and saw the bright white numbers that said 8:46.

He let his feet touch the floor, slightly flinching feeling how icy it was. Nonetheless, he persisted in getting up so he doesn't stay in bed all day.

As he stood up, the blanket fell off his back as he stretched his body out, letting a small yawn. He headed to the closet to get himself a pair of comfortable clothes.

He headed to the bathroom, and saw that there was no need to get a towel since there was one on the rack already. He turned the shower on to high heat, and as he waited for the water to get warm, he tossed his worn clothes away in a hamper and the new set on the sink counter.

He held out a hand in the shower stall and checked that the water was hot enough already. He got in and felt a wave of warmth as he let the water come in contact with his skin. He just let the hot water relax him as he washes himself clean. Even after cleaning himself, he let himself stay in the water a little longer just to keep on feeling the warmth.

Once he finally decided to get out, he patted himself with the towel, letting it absorb every drop of water it can. He dressed himself up with the comfy clothes he prepared and headed out with the towel hanging around his neck.

He heads down the steps of stairs and heads to the kitchen to make himself a warm drink. He decided that some tea would be nice. He followed the procedures on how to make some lemon tea. After making the warm cup of liquid, he added a splash of honey to sweeten it.

He took his drink to the corner of the living room. It had a chair attached to the walls with shelves filled with books and some foreign items but the best part for the redhead was the window. He sat on the chair as he leaned on the transparent cool glass. He listened to the sound of beads of water coming in contact with the window, feeling small vibrations as both collided. He sipped on the tea and made a note on himself to use a little less honey next time because it was too sweet, and proceeded to take small sips.

It was peaceful and calming. That was until a thud coming from his door, silently jumping and almost chocking on the tea from shock. He wanted to have a little 'talk' with the person who disrupted his peace.

He got up from his seat and placed the cup of tea on one of the shelves. He stomped his way over to the front door with furrowed eyebrows and a disgruntled look on his face. He slammed open the door only to get his legs attacked causing him to lose his balance and fall to the ground. He felt something applying pressure on his body, starting from his legs to his stomach. Karma groaned as he tried to get back up. As he opened his eyes, he was met with a lick on his face. And at that moment, he knew. He grabbed them by the armpits and sighed as mercury eyes were met with blue.

"Why are you doing this Goji?" Karma asked irritatingly. In Karma's hands was a cat dripping wet with mud all over it and eyes that glistened like sapphires.

Goji replied with a meow. Karma groaned at the unhelpful response. "Well, we got to get you cleaned up." The redhead properly tucked the white-furred cat on his arms and looked down his clothes to find it all wet and muddy. He sighed again. "And me too."

He shut the door behind him and went up to the bathroom.

After some time, Karma was in a new set of clean clothes while Goji was free from mud showing their fur that was as white as snow and soothing to the touch. Karma got 2 bowls and set them on the ground. He walked back and forth, getting cat food and returning it, getting some milk and placing it back to it's designated place. Goji was munching on the cat food.

Karma left the furry friend alone and went back to the living room corner. He took the tea cup he used but sadly, it had gotten cold and he really didn't want to microwave it because the quality of the tea would go down. He carried the cup and placed it away in the kitchen sink.

While in the kitchen, he checked the clock and saw that it was already 12:22. He decided to make some food for himself since he didn't have any breakfast yet. He took out the ingredients to make cream puffs. The reason why he chose cream puffs was because he felt like it. While he was making it, he hummed a soft tune that people wouldn't expect of him but not that he'd really care.

As he waited for the dough to bake, he made the sweet cream for it, which didn't take that long. And when that was finished, he went to look for Goji. He saw Goji lying on the living room sofa as he reminisced the first time he met the feline creature.

It was a rainy day like today when he was peacefully taking a stroll in an empty street under his umbrella as he let the sound of the rain drown his ears. That continued until he heard a mewl. He searched for the source of the sound and in the corner of his eye, under the streetlamp was a kitten in a box.

He looked at it for a brief minute before picking it up and carrying it with his arm and taking it home.

His journey through memory lane was interrupted by the loud beeping coming from the oven, signaling it was time to take the pastry out. The smell sweetened up the kitchen's atmosphere. He started to stuff the cream and placed them in a plate just for himself.

He walked back to the window corner again and ate his brunch. Goji invited themselves in by jumping up the chair and placed it's curled up body on Karma's lap. He finished his food and placed the dish away on a shelf being careful to not bother the cat. He started petting the cat's soft fur in a rhythmic motion.

He leaned his head against the window looking at the raindrops, sliding down the window, moving from left to right. Not so long later, his eyes suddenly felt droopy. The combination of the soft fur and the sound of the rainfall got him all weary. He blinked his eyes a few times wanting to stay awake. But it seems the sleepiness washes over him as he slowly drifts to slumber, as his chest heaves up and down and his hand rests on Goji's fur.

#assassination classroom #anime #ansatsu kyoushitsu #assclass #karma akabane #karma assassination classroom #akabane karma #fanfic #spring prompts

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obscureoperations · 3 years ago

Note

“Do you actually hate me or is it just the idea of having someone to despise that you enjoy?”

@slasherrabbitmadness

I know it's gonna be great!

Oh man... I had a few ideas on what to do with this idea, but the emo part of my brain took over

highly self indulgent angst but it's fine....

tyy <3

With a deep breath, you pinch the bridge of your nose--out of all things, you weren’t going to cry. He didn’t deserve your tears, at least not anymore. You lost track of all the nights you spent mourning his absence-- crippled by fear at the sound of every siren. This time, he had disappeared for two weeks straight. The note on the dresser simply read ‘’I’m sorry.” Somewhere deep inside, you were convinced that it was actually over. You didn’t feel him any more and that was what really bothered you.The distance went far beyond the physical.

It was a tired old routine, he would disappear for days at a time. When he felt shaky, Martin would end up draining some old bum on Main street. Still riddled with guilt, he would disappear for days on end, and in that time you had no idea what he was doing. Did he get caught? The city was brutal...there were gangs, and all the members had knives.

The first time it happened, you were plagued with images of him bleeding out in a sewer somewhere.You would never get to see his face again. You began to take pictures of any and everything that reminded you of Martin. The sunrise, beams of light streaming in through the blinds. Your camera roll was packed with photos of old construction zones.

You forgave him instantly, just thrilled that he was still alive. You never stopped to question the fact that he had abandoned you. And in such a cruel way… in the middle of the night. Without any sign or indication. Even in his absence, you could feel his presence all around you-- examining your emotions from a petri dish.

The room was eerily silent, he still hadn’t moved from his spot in the doorframe. You had very nearly knocked him unconscious as he quietly emerged from the hall. Two thirty in the morning and on a Tuesday… furniture shouldn't be scooting around the living room. Completely startled, you grabbed the first object you could reach which happened to be a glass paper weight. A dark figure emerges from the hall. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that it was Martin-- but your gut reaction told you to attack.

Luckily enough for you, he managed to dodge.. Once you realised it was Martin, you still wanted to flee. You couldn't even look at him right now, let alone say his name. You just wanted him far far away from you. He managed to stalk you through the entire house “Y/n.. just talk to me please?!”

He chased you through the corridors, up and down the stairs- at this point, you almost felt like one of his victims. He just wanted to talk, but you weren’t interested in hearing anything he had to say.

It all came to a head when Martin managed to trap you in your own bedroom. He stood in front of the door, panting heavily. Wiping at the corners of his mouth with his sweater-- you could still see the vague yellowish glow in his eyes. At that moment, he looked nothing like your shy and demure boyfriend. There were bits of dried blood on his fingertips, you could smell it all over his clothes. You didn't want to say that you were afraid of him, but at that moment, you were definitely unsettled.

“Just tell me… do you actually hate me? Or is it the idea of having someone to despise is what you enjoy?”

He looked as though he had just been struck, tears began to brim the corners of his eyes. His gaze begins to move over the walls of your bedroom. So many shared memories, it was such a shame. He opens his mouth to speak, but refrains. A look of calmness suddenly washes over his face.

“I-don’t hate you y/n…. I never could.”

You let out a brief snort of amusement, it was all that you could manage. You honestly wanted to laugh. He was so transparent it was nearly sickening. Has anything he said to you actually been the truth? He was good, he knew just how to tug at your heart strings and leave you feeling as though you needed to apologize to him. He left you questioning your every thought and motive. Martin, just tell me the truth! Do you want me or--

“Lovely…” You whisper as you move to the closet, reaching for your jacket and throwing on your sneakers. Martin watches you meticulously, raising a sleeve to the corner of his mouth. He had no idea what he was supposed to say. There was just so much that he had to apologize for-- he had no idea where to begin. A breeze shifts in through the window, temporarily cooling his tear stained cheeks. Maybe he should have just left the first time it happened. In a way it’d probably be easier for you.

He did feel awful, he really did! He wasn't the calculating narcissist that you made him out to be. It was never supposed to be this way, he’d give anything just to go back. Despite all the apologies, and you initially taking him back-- you never truly looked at him the same way. There was always an air of distrust. He never meant to hurt you, but that seemed to be the one thing he did best.

Slowly, he begins to stalk you across the room as you hastily gather up your things. “Y/n…” His vice was almost a warning.

“You can stay here...get some rest, but I have to get out of here.”

Your heart was pounding, despite your anger, you still felt the need to extend some sort of olive branch. Leave on a ‘happier’ note. What if he ever decided to actually leave?

“Where are you going?!”

He nearly trips you over the bed as he reaches for your arm. His grip on your wrist was almost painful. The moment you wince he looks completely startled, releasing you completely. He seems to grow pale as he studies your features, glancing down at your bag. Tears began to stream down his cheeks--he wanted to throw himself down at your feet.

“I’m so sorry…” His voice was barely a whisper.

“Get some sleep… Martin., but go change. I don't want you blooding up the sheets”

#martin 1977 #martin 1978 #martin/you #martin/reader #sfw

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Whumptober 2020 Day 8

Abandoned | Isolation

Ao3

Warnings: Depression, Panic Attacks, Claustrophobia, blink and you'll miss it Suicidal Thoughts.

Dedicated to @ckbookish! Hope you don't mind me tagging you 👉��

-o-o-o-o-

"That's great, Dami! I'm happy for you."

Dick held the phone between his ear and shoulder, listening to Damian ramble on about an advanced theater class he got into because the teacher felt the current intermediate class he was in was wasting his potential. He carefully scrubbed the sides of the bowl he had just finished eating about five servings of pudding out of and set it off to the side. He wiped his hands then leaned against the counter, smiling.

"Thank you, Richard," Damian said. His voice was just as stiff and careful as it always was, but Dick could hear the excitement and gratitude sprinkled in there. The kid was opening up. Expressing himself more and more every day in ways the place he came from had never allowed him to. Dick couldn't remember the last time Damian genuinely threatened anyone with violence, let alone threatened Tim. In fact, last he heard, Tim and Damian were going to go to the Gotham Zoo together next weekend. There was no real reason for them to. It was just to attempt at hanging out and Dick couldn't be more proud.��

"When will you be switching to the new class?" Dick asked. While he did, he began to migrate from the kitchen counter towards his bedroom door, careful to not trip on anything that was laying on the floor. Not for the first time this day, week, month, or year, Dick made a mental note to finally deep clean the place. "Like, is this a tomorrow thing or…?"

"At the end of the term, actually," Damian answered, his voice dropping ever so slightly. Dick hummed in sympathy. He sounded very excited about it, it must be agonizing for him to find out he needed to wait another few months for the first term to come to a close.

"Well, I'm sure you'll have fun being the best in your current class until then," Dick joked, finally reaching the door to his bedroom and placing his hand on the door handle. Damian scoffed over the phone.

"I am not the best, unfortunately." Damian didn't sound that torn up about it, which was good. Admitting someone was better than you was good character growth. It proved that Damian was letting himself start from the bottom of something instead of immediately being at the top. "There is another girl, her name is Abigail. She has been taking classes since she was a toddler because her mother runs a local theater group."

"So she's as good at theater and you are with a sword," Dick confirmed and Damian hummed.

Dick opened his door, mentally planning out the least tedious way to get undressed, in bed, and asleep as quickly as possible. First he needed to end the phone call, as much as he didn't want to. He started a new job tomorrow, so he needed to be rested. There was a swimming pool downtown that was looking for an assistant coach for the children's gymnastics classes they held there. Dick took up the job the moment he saw it. Or well, the moment he was no longer swinging past it as Nightwing and was back in civilian clothes. There was a good chance that he could work his way up to being a head instructor with his own classes, considering the woman who hired him didn't really seem the type to enjoy children very much. Dick gave it two months tops before she began to just not show up, making it so he was promoted.

"I suppose so," Damian said, "she won't be moving up with me however. She has… friends in the lower class that she doesn't want to-"

Dick missed out on the rest, because the moment he stepped into his bedroom and closed the door behind him, his feet were knocked out from under him and his phone flung from his hand. Decades of experience made it so he was immediately able to go from zero to a hundred, allowing him to scramble up from the floor and throw a punch at the closest shadow like clockwork.

His fists met air. With wide eyes, he spun around his room, heart in his throat as he tried to figure out what had shoved him to the floor.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. All he could see was his messy room, his unmade bed, his open closet, and his closed window.

Suddenly, Dick heard a noise sound across his room from where he threw his phone. Dick rushed across his room and searched for his phone like he had been jolted by a bolt of electricity. He hated how confused and worried Damian's muffled demands sounded.

"Richard! What happened?!"

There! Dick bent down and reached out his hand to grab the phone-

And then his hand went through the phone.

Dick stared down at his empty hand and the phone that sat unmoving on the ground, everything going deathly still as he tried to… process what happened. If it was actually real.

Okay. His nerves were just shot. He tried again, this time a little more slower and careful. He watched with disbelieving eyes as his hand once again just… went through the phone. It just laid there, undisturbed, like Dick wasn't… even there.

Damian's voice rose in volume and Dick kneeled down, noting now how he was fully grounded on the floor; his shirts and other various objects around him phased through him like holograms. Okay, okay so something was definitely wrong. "Damian?" Dick asked, but Damian didn't say anything, just continued to shout for Dick to answer.

"Damian!" Dick yelled louder, but Damian didn't say anything that counted as a reply.

"Richard, if you don't answer me, I will fetch father!"

"Bruce might be a good idea there, Dami," Dick breathed, falling back onto his rear end and watching how he simply went through everything. He brought his hand back to his phone and purposely stuck it through, his fingernail soundlessly tapped the hidden floor beneath.

Curious, Dick knocked on the wood, and when no noise reached his ears he hit it harder.

Nothing. He can't touch anything and apparently he couldn't be heard.

And suddenly, Dick was filled with the crippling realization that he had… no idea what to do now. He just sat there, listening to Damian panic until he eventually hung up to fetch Bruce. Dick sat there, running his fingers through everything he couldn't touch around him until he knew the entire space around him by heart. Dick sat there, and it took him… awhile to work up the energy to stand up and figure this out. But when he did, he forced himself to not let the confusion, horror, and fear stop him. He walked around the room first, looking for something that must have made him like this. There were no sigils that he could see, and if one was hidden under the things he had left on the floor, he wouldn't know because no matter how hard he focused or how many times he tried, he couldn't get anything to move. He went to sit down on his bed to think this through, but then his hand went straight through the mattress and he barely caught himself in time to avoid landing on his rear.

Thoroughly freaked out now, he ran through his dresser, heart pounding to the upbeat rhythm of his phone as Bruce began to call him. Dick didn't pick up the phone, he knew he wouldn't be able to.

He couldn't touch anything. He couldn't. Touch. Anything. His feet would hit the ground and have no volume. His hands would slap against the wall but nothing would sound. He tried not to panic, but when he went to go out his door, it didn't move. He tugged on the door handle. It didn’t budge. Not a single millimeter.

And okay. Okay he was beginning to panic now. He sprinted to the window and slammed his elbows against it, but it was like the glass was replaced with a transparent sheet of solid steel.

Was this some sort of hallucination? Had whatever knocked him down drugged him somehow? Did he hit his head?

He was hyperventilating—this he knew for sure but suddenly he didn't know how to stop it—and without thinking he ran back to his door, banging his silent fists against the wood and tugging on the frozen in place handle.

Oh gods. This was really happening wasn't it? Somehow, he had found himself unable to move anything. Unable to go anywhere. Unable to- to-

His knees gave out, causing him to slide down against the door and press his forehead against the unmovable force before him. He couldn't- he couldn't breathe. Somewhere, at the back of his head, a voice told him that he could breathe. He could take breaths right now and calm down. He could count five things he could see, four things he could touch, three things he could hear, two things he could smell, and one thing he could taste. He could calm down and think rationally and explore his situation a bit more calmly. But the moment he opened his eyes after not realizing he had them closed in the first place and saw his leg phasing through his empty trash can he knew he couldn't go anywhere from there without having a full blown mental breakdown.

So he closed his eyes, tried making noise on the door once again, and tried to keep his breakdown to a minimum.

Just hyperventilating. Just fading.

"Help!" He shouted before he could really consider what good that would do. He was at the top floor of his building and the neighbors across from him weren't home until early in the morning thanks to the graveyard shift. No one will hear him… even if he could be heard.

His phone began to ring again and Dick stuck his fist into his mouth and bit down on his knuckles to keep from screaming.

He sat there—trying and failing to breathe, trying and failing to not cry—and continued to sit there until eventually, he found himself leaning against the door with half lidded and tearful eyes, staring at how his body continued to not touch a single thing.

He let his eyes fall shut one final time and let the stress and anxiety and confusion whisk him away into a very troubled slumber.

-o-o-o-o-

When he woke up he was immediately made aware that his current situation was, in fact, not a nightmare.

And so much worse than what he could even predict.

He awoke to him falling backwards, a crick in his neck and spine suddenly becoming undone as the door he was leaning against suddenly opened, hitting his head with a disquietingly silent bonk on the floor of his living room. For a hopeful, blissful moment he thought whatever happened before he passed the fuck out was all fake and he had just imagined the entire thing, but then he opened his eyes and lifted his head…

Just to see a pair of legs sticking out from the middle of his intangible chest.

His breath hitched, his eyes flicking up to see a worried Bruce literally standing inside of him. The threat of hyperventilating once again became a very real thing as Bruce stepped past him, into the room, and started calling his name.

"Bruce!" Dick shouted, scrambling up from the floor and running back into the room that had previously been his impenetrable prison. He instinctively tried to grab his shoulder, but ended up flinching back violently when his hand simply went through Bruce. He couldn't feel Bruce at all. None of the course fibers of his winter coat brushed against his touch receptors. "Bruce! I'm here!" He tried again, but surprise surprise, it didn't work.

"Is he there?" A new voice said, and Dick just managed to turn around in time to watch Damian walk into the room with wrinkles between his brow and bags under his eyes, shining black against his olive skin. Dick jumped away from Damian's path as he approached their father and watched with a frown as Bruce bent down and picked up his discarded phone.

Then, Dick's phone suddenly began to ring, causing Bruce to scowl. Frightened, confused, and curious, Dick slowly approached to read his phone's screen.

It was close to 6am. Bruce must have driven here as quickly as he could after Damian probably took a few hours to panic to himself and work up the courage to tell Bruce that he thought something was wrong. Though, Dick didn't ponder over why they were here so early for very long. The number calling belonged to his new boss.

He was supposed to be at work thirty minutes ago.

"Shit," Dick breathed, stepping back as Bruce clicked the answer button on the phone and held it to his ear.

Immediately, there was the sound of the lead coach’s nasally voice. Coach Shah. Short, lean, toned, full of freckles, and rocking curly red hair. The woman who was definitely a phenomenal gymnast, but probably shouldn't be allowed to work closely with kids with her grumpy attitude. She didn't sound entirely upset from the muffled tones on the other side of the speaker. Maybe she was saving the angry for later, letting the passive aggressiveness of her annoyance at him for being late to his first day of work steadily drip into her tone.

Bruce finally opened his mouth. "I'm sorry, but I'm not Mr Grayson."

Dick winced at the sound of her confused squawk. Bruce proceeded to explain that he was Dick's father, and that he couldn't find Dick anywhere. Bruce's frown slowly began to deepen as Coach Shah began to probably explain that Dick was her newest assistant and that she hadn't seen him. Shockingly, the phone call didn't end with Dick being immediately fired. Just with Bruce clicking the screen off and looking down at Damian with barely contained worry.

"You said he just shouted then stopped responding?" Bruce clarified.

Damian nodded, looking at the phone still in Bruce's hand like it had threatened him.

"Okay," Bruce sighed, brushing his free hand over his jaw. "Okay. Let's look for signs of struggle."

And this was how you could immediately tell that the Wayne family was nowhere close to normal. Normal families would call the police.

The batfamily searched on their own, then only called the police later to keep up the civilian facade.

Dick stepped slowly back, then flinched forward when his shoulders met the walls solidly. The feeling of any walls touching him while his feet stood through the things on the floor almost made him want to bend over and vomit. But thinking about vomiting also made him stress about what would happen then and what the sick would touch or if it would make any noise at all. It was repulsive and horrible to think about, so he found a tiny place of clear flooring that wasn't near any walls and folded his arms across his chest.

He watched Bruce and Damian comb through his room, looking for any signs that his disappearance wasn't on his own power. Dick hoped they found something. A reason for why he was a ghost in his own room.

A solid thirty minutes passed before Bruce deemed Dick's bedroom clean. Evidence wise. Not literally. Dick was pretty sure his room was in an even bigger mess than what it had been before. He jerked out of the way of Bruce as he walked ignorantly past Dick towards the living room. Damian followed along, dragging his feet.

It was then Dick noticed Damian's hand wrap around the door’s handle. Pure terror shot through Dick's veins, which gave him just enough courage to quickly dart forward and purposely run through Damian into his living room before he was locked back in there again. He didn't know he was gasping and choking back horrified sobs until he felt the first tear tickle down his cheek and off his chin.

And this all felt so real suddenly. Like not being able to touch Damian—one of the most important people in Dick's entire life—was what gave it the official stamp of reality.

Dick was a living, breathing, walking ghost.

He couldn't touch anything. He couldn't be heard. He couldn't open doors or pick up phones or touch the shoulder of the man he had considered his father for longer than he had known his birth father.

It was all he could do to stand and force himself to breath—but did he even need to keep doing that?—and let his tears silently fall. He watched Bruce and Damian sift through the rest of his apartment and finish empty handed. It was hours later when Bruce suggested going back to the cave and checking Dick's phone for any possible clues. So, after Bruce hid a few sensors around to warn them if Dick "came back", they went to the front door while Dick made sure to stick as close as he could without going through them. He wiped under his eyes as they approached Bruce's car, his heart stuttering when he realized he didn't even know if he could even sit in the car with them without phasing through the seats. He might have to walk back to Gotham.

That would take… hours.

And oh God, would he starve? Would he be slowly forced to thirst to death because he couldn't touch any of the substances he needed to live?

Bruce opened the drivers door and Damian opened the passenger. Instead of thinking about the very real possibility that Dick probably had less than a few days left to live—if he was alive at all—Dick once again forced himself to go through Damian.

Somehow, against all odds, Dick was able to touch the car. Except, when his knees went through Damian's lap to touch the cushioned chair and his hands shot through Bruce's shoulder to support himself jumping into the back of the car, the normally well padded leather was stony and unrecognizable to his touch. It didn't give under the pressure of his weight or grip. It didn't sink around his touch. It remained like cement.

It felt like cement.

Dick curled up in the back seat, his heart jumping madly when both the drivers and passenger doors closed. He suddenly felt like a trapped animal. He had no will here. He didn't even bother to try the door handle of the back seat, because he knew it wouldn't go anywhere. The doors wouldn't open for him. The walls wouldn't bend. He brought his knees up to his chest as Bruce drove onto the road and as Damian turned on the radio.

And he… simply watched out the window and tried not to make too much noise that no one would hear anyway.

-o-o-o-o-

Getting out of the car door was more adrenaline inducing than standing toe to toe with Killer Croc. It was a good thing Dick was so flexible and had decades of experience with flipping his way through life. Thanks to that, he managed to jump out of the car just in the nick of time.

Seeing the manor like this hit differently. He was barely aware of Bruce and Damian walking past him towards the front doors until he saw Alfred open those aforementioned doors. Dick had to sprint to get inside, and he tried his best to not flinch as the door shut behind him. He didn't succeed.

Not that anybody saw.

"Master Dick?" Alfred asked, and more a heart stopping moment Dick almost thought Alfred was talking to him.

But then Bruce shook his head and began to shed his jacket.

"No sign of him. His apartment was locked and there was no sign of forced entry."

Alfred frowned and Damian shoved past them all, his body moving with less confidence than it normally did. Dick watched him go, desperately wanting nothing more than to race after him and gather him into the world's bestest hug, but Bruce was heading to the cave with Alfred trailing along. Dick had to help in whatever way he could to push Bruce into finding out what happened. Damian… could wait. He'll have to wait. It wasn't like Dick could do anything for him if he decided to follow after the clearly upset teen anyway.

"It's almost like he just vanished, Alfred," Bruce continued, his voice oddly wet. Dick's heart tied itself in a knot. "Into thin air."

"No one simply disappears into thin air," Alfred sniffed. "You will find him."

"Yeah," Bruce agreed, sounding unsure but determined at the same time. They walked into the study and Dick carefully followed them both into the cave through the narrow passage of grandfather clock.

Bruce quickly got to work and Dick stood back, careful to not touch anything. Bruce started the search as he always did, by sifting through traffic cams around the scene of the crime. And since it was Dick's apartment, he also had access to the normal security measures Dick had installed.

Hours passed and Dick soon found himself sinking to sit on the floor of the cave, watching as Bruce found nothing after nothing after nothing.

Dick could relate. He certainly felt like nothing.

-o-o-o-o-

Dick couldn't thirst or starve. He found that out on day three of this entire mess, slinking around from open door to open door, doing nothing but breathing and existing. Well, existing to no one but himself. He hadn't even realized he wasn't starving or dehydrated until Tim, Cass, Jason, and Duke showed up three nights later for a quick family dinner. Dick was touched that Bruce called them, and even more touched that they all came. But, as much as he was touched, he was also jealous of the meal Alfred provided. Frustrated that he didn't exist enough to join.

Bruce filled them all in on what little they knew on the situation and then they all spent the night patrolling Blüdhaven for clues. Dick didn't get into the Batmobile in time to follow along, so he spent the entire night trapped in the cave with Alfred's silent company.

He spent the nights wandering the hallways and avoiding everything he could walk through. He'd walk and walk and walk until he'd sit down in the middle of the dining room floor, where the carpet was short and didn't stab him like the shaggy carpet of bedrooms did. Where the animals were least likely to unknowingly fall asleep inside of him.

On the fifth day, he thought Alfred the Cat was watching him. He cried for hours later when he found the cat was just watching a fly.

Days ticked on. Dick was reported missing to the police. Damian talked less and less, smiled less and less. The others went back to their lives with "keep me updated" being mumbled before they went.

Dick continued to not exist.

When the second week passed by, Dick found himself sneaking outside when Alfred went to get the mail. He didn't know why. Maybe it was because it was raining and he was wondering if he'd be able to feel that.

He didn't. It just went through him and he ended up being trapped in the cold air outside, exploring the wet grounds and not making a single splash, until night came and Damian let Titus and Ace out for a quick potty break.

By the time the third week came around, things really started to change. It seemed Bruce was constantly talking to people. The police, the Justice League, Dick's friends, everyone who were trying to track him down… and it killed Dick to stand back and watch, clutching his stomach as nothing turned up and Bruce kept coming up with nothing. Dick wished he could leave some sort of message. A way to tell Bruce that he was right there. Just invisible and silenced. But there.

Dick would love to tell Bruce that he was right there. But at this point, Dick really began to wonder if he was really there at all.

What if he was dead? Living people didn't go for three weeks without eating or drinking and remain alive. Alive people don't walk through furniture or get trapped simply by closed doors.

But he couldn't tell Bruce. Which was why when the third week came up and Bruce once again ran into a dead end, he wasn't really all surprised to watch Bruce angrily hurtle his phone across the room and collapse into his chair with his hands in his hair, dangerously close to ripping the fine strands from his scalp.

The longer Bruce sat there, the more Dick was sure Bruce had finally given up. Batman couldn't find him. It was the waiting game now. Sit and wait and hope.

Dick left the room shortly after, his mind racing, loneliness running like a poison through his veins. He went to find Damian, but when he found the kid cuddled in a giant beanbag in the library, Alfred the Cat on his shoulder watching him draw carefully, he knew there wouldn't be anything here to reassure him that he'll be found. He walked around Damian anyway, bending down to look at what he was drawing.

His heart clenched. It was a portrait of Dick. Damian was carefully working on the details of his top lip, shading each little bump and pore with incredible accuracy.

Dick didn't look more at it. He left the library and roamed the halls, looking for an open door that he can sneak into and get some alone time. Just to calm down. Just to reassure himself that there was no way his family would leave him like this forever.

That they haven't truly given up on him. That the whispered words of maybe he's dead and he's not coming back, is he haven't actually been said.

He finally found a room with an open door and he immediately squeezed inside. The room was smaller, which made his anxiety climb ever so slightly, but it was also close to empty with a clear enough space for him to sit down and meditate without touching and going through anything. The door must have been opened by Damian. The kid had been searching out silent places to be alone quite often recently, sometimes forcing Bruce to search the halls, calling his name loudly until Damian finally revealed himself.

Dick sat down and breathed.

Of course, it couldn't be so easy. His brain immediately recalled back to Bruce looking defeated. To Damian painstakingly crafting every detail of Dick's face with a pencil like he was worried he'd someday forget what Dick looked like. To Jason not having been over in way too long; reports in Blüdhaven of Red Hood being spotted on multiple occasions. To Tim who accidentally referred to Dick in the past tense a couple days ago and looked sick with himself the moment he realized what he said. To Cass who would somehow stroll the same halls as him when she's over until they pass by his bedroom door and she would stop and frown and walk away. To Duke who looked at his portraits Bruce had on the walls and look like he desperately wanted to understand something that he'd never actually be able to now.

They've all given up. He knew it was only a matter of time before there was an empty casket funeral.

He wondered if he could make that a reality. Death. He didn't need to eat or drink. What if he just… stopped breathing? What if he clawed out his own throat with his nails? What if the next time Alfred opened a window to air out an old, unused room on the highest floor he just jumped out?

Or would the world be so cruel as to keep him like this for the rest of eternity? Forced to watch as he's given up on, buried, and forgotten? He didn't want to die. Not like this. Not in name before body.

And not for the first time since Dick inexplicably became a ghost, he felt his throat choke on the beginnings of a sob.

He curled up a bit, trying to staunch it because he had quickly become annoyed with the sound of his own voice. Why could he still hear it when no one else could? It was awful. Like his words and noises we're all just in his head and he was only hearing what he thought he should hear.

He gasped wetly, wiping under his eyes and trying to stop this all from happening again. He had already cried enough these last few weeks. He couldn't keep crying every time he felt alone.

He bent in on himself further, his arms curling around his stomach in such a way that if he imagined hard enough they belonged to someone else and he was in another's calming embrace. It didn't work though. He knew he was alone. He couldn't pretend.

He was so deep in this attack of utter turmoil and unhappiness that he didn't notice approaching footsteps until he heard the sound of creaking door hinges followed quickly by a click of a door latch.

Dick looked up with blurry, panicked eyes.

The door. The door was closed.

"No," Dick breathed. "No no-" he scrambled to his feet, all the blood rushed from his head and combined with the terrible spike of horror to make him perfectly lightheaded as he stumbled to the door and wrapped his hands around the knob. It didn't budge. "NO!"

He spun around, barely aware of his already panting breaths and frantically searched the room for a hopefully open window.

The window was closed. He didn't know why he even looked.

"Fuck," he gasped, grabbing his chest as it constricted tightly. More tightly than what he had felt in a long time. It felt so painful that it was all he could do to turn and bang a closed fist on the door. He wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like. "HELP!"

He didn't know why he was calling out. Hitting the door like he thought it might make noise.

No one would hear him.

"ALFRED!" Dick screamed. "BR-" he was forced to stop mid-word on that one thanks to a heaving gasp that curled dangerously in-between his ribcage. He swallowed. Or tried to. "BRUCE!"

He kicked the door. Covered one hand over his mouth and tried to calm down. Tried to not think about the solid walls and the solid door and how he was powerless to leave this room. Why did he come in here in the first place?!

He couldn't calm down. All he could think about was how screwed he was. How hopeless everything was. He kept his hand on his mouth as his legs eventually gave out. He brought his knees to his chin and laid on his side atop the carpeted floor, babbling cries and names and pleas until his throat was raw and everything woozy.

He didn't know how or when he finally passed out, only that he woke up to a still closed door and a still small room, and it took every ounce of his will power to not immediately cry again right then and there. He stayed curled up on the ground and closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around his stomach and tried to pretend that everything would work out. Eventually everything would be okay.

He was wrong.

It took two weeks for the door to open for Alfred's regular airing out of the rooms to reach the one he was trapped in.

By then, he didn't even know if he should bother to stand up and walk out.

Not when he was surely no longer alive. Not when he felt perfectly content just laying here being dead.

But the thought of that door closing again and him having no power over it eventually managed to force him stumbling to his wobbly feet and walking out.

He didn't know what to expect when he shuffled slowly deeper into the manor. More than a month has passed since his disappearance. Most people don't keep a whole lot of hope for a missing person to return after this long. By this time, people normally began to suggest funerals quietly between each other.

It didn't take long to find the family. What shocked him though was that everyone was together in the living room, even Alfred who must have finished opening certain doors and windows to refresh the stale air inside the rooms they belong to and walked back quicker than Dick. A movie was playing, some Pixar movie Dick hadn't seen before because of his busy lifestyle.

And for some reason, this hurt more than if he came in here to find them alone, mourning, depressed.

They're all watching a movie together. Bruce on the recliner, Damian squeezed between him and the arm of the recliner even though there was more room in other places. Jason sprawled over the three cushioned sofa, his legs resting over Duke, Cass, and Tim like a makeshift blanket. Alfred had his own recliner to himself, reading a book to himself but occasionally glancing up towards the screen. Steph was there too, but she had made herself comfortable on the floor with the entity of the living room's decorative pillows.

They're all watching a movie together.

Dick had been trying to get that to happen for months. And they're doing it now, when he's gone with no foreseeable way to get back.

Dick slowly sank to the floor and watched them poke each other and whisper quips to each other and laugh at the funny bits with each other.

Was this the life he was doomed to have for the rest of eternity? Chasing open doors and watching people move on from him? Do things simply in his memory?

If he had tears left to cry, he would have shed them.

Instead, he just sat there and watched.

-o-o-o-o-

Dick's funeral was four months later. The gossip channels and media said they have finally given up. Dick thought they held on for longer than most.

He didn't attend his own funeral. He didn't want it to feel final. He didn't want the undeniable proof that they've stopped searching. He didn't want to see them cry for him.

So he walked the manor grounds opposite of the family graveyard. He kicked his feet as he walked, pretending that his footsteps carried weight on the grass and that he was solid enough to disturb the smallest pebbles on the stone pathway.

Maybe he was dead. Maybe this was hell. He didn't remember where he went, if he went anywhere, when Lex Luthor killed him, but maybe this was it. He didn't know what killed him or what happened to his body, but he was starting to become convinced that he really was simply a ghost, cursed to walk the world and watch people move on and live on without him.

Half a year ago, that would have settled horribly into his gut. Now? He was numb.

He continued to walk, to let his mind drift. Pretend he was alive for a little while longer before he returned to the manor and the services and dinners and receptions were over. Decide what to do now that his life was now officially over.

He sighed and ignored the feeling that he's just as trapped out here in the manor grounds as he was in that room all those months ago. Ho continued to roam.

Though, the sound of a humming voice had him stopping in his tracks.

No one should be over here. They all should be back at the funeral. Dick immediately focused on the noise, not even bothering to step carefully or approach cautiously. It wasn't like Dick could be seen or heard anyway. He just wanted to see who had snuck into these parts of the grounds while his literal funeral was going on. It was strange and horrible to think about, but come on? A little respect please? He hoped it wasn't some paparazzi. It meant that they'd somehow gotten through Bruce's security… which also meant that Bruce was more depressed about this than what Dick initially thought. He'd seen Bruce get low these past few months, but never low enough to sacrifice the safety of the people he provided shelter to.

Dick walked towards the grove of trees that the humming was coming from and frowned when he eventually saw the back of a person strolling through the controlled nature. The man was taller than Dick—which wasn't a difficult achievement—and was wearing a simple brown-orange hoodie with dark blue jeans. His hair was dirty blonde and styled up like someone glued a giant ball of cotton to his scalp. Dick didn't recognize him, which instantly set off alarm bells inside his head. The open house reception should be over but the rest of the services were all reserved for close family and friends of Dick's. But this man… he couldn't be someone that was invited.

Not for the first time, Dick felt the crippling weight of helplessness wash over him. This man could be dangerous, but Dick couldn't do a thing. He couldn't warn anyone.

He could just watch it happen.

Or… ignore it.

He shook his head and sighed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of the same pair of sweats he'd been wearing since that fateful night half a year ago. He almost began to approach further, because even though he was helpless to change anything or warn anyone, he was still curious… but then the man turned around and Dick was stopped in his tracks.

He didn't... He didn't have a face.

Dick gaped and watched as the bumps in the man's face that must be cheekbones rose ever so slightly.

"Oh!" The man said, even though he had no mouth. Dick had absolutely no idea where the sound came from. "You are here!"

Dick turned around behind him, and saw nobody. Something fluttered in his chest. A hope he didn't dare grasp at even though… even though… the man could only be talking to him.

"We lost track of you after the convergence. Most people stick around where they disappear!"

"Are you…" Dick tried, his voice barely recognizable even to himself, "are you talking to me?"

The limited features of the man's blank face softened. "Yes I am, Dick Grayson. You've been lost a long time."

And Dick… didn't know what to do. This entire time he's had absolutely no contact with anything in the world. He couldn't move anything, couldn't touch anything, couldn't speak or make himself known. This scene before him, one where his voice was heard and he was answered… it was so foreign. Unreal. Dick almost reached down to pinch himself.

"But luckily," the man continued, "after a long time searching for you at your home city, we figured you must have found a way to your family. That or began to aimlessly wonder like others like you sometimes do."

"Like… me?"

"Yes," the man nodded then took a step closer. Dick stood his ground as his thoughts ran circles in his brain. What was going on? "You're trapped within the folds of reality, Dick Grayson. It's not something that commonly happens, but something that can be catastrophic if we cannot find you immediately." He paused. "You are Nightwing in this world, are you not? You must understand how the universes work in odd ways."

Dick wanted to nod. Laugh. Cry. Step forward and see if he could touch the man. But he didn't. He just stood there as the man continued.

"You see," the man said, bringing a hand up to his featureless chin, "what happened was that this universe brushed sides with another one. One that's almost exactly the same in every aspect to yours. Normally, when universes brush, they're so different that they reject each other and go on their merry way down the time stream. The problem was, that because these two universes were so similar, reality as we knew it, well, it got a little confused. It tried to sort out what belonged to what. It gets it wrong sometimes, which is why you're like this. In the universe you brushed with, Dick Grayson was dead. Everything else was exactly the same, but because you were dead and alive the universe decided to make you both. This is why you're stuck here. The universe can't remember if you should be living or dead."

Dick never pretended to understand the multiverse. It always seemed the rules were constantly changing. Shifting to accommodate spontaneous things. It seemed the only one who truly had a grasp on the entirety of the universe was Bart Allen, but the kid was shockingly tight lipped about most secrets of reality despite his superhero name of Impulse.

And really, Dick didn't care how he ended up like this. All he could really think was how this man could see him. Was looking for him. Something was finally going to change. Whether he was supposed to be fully dead or fully alive... He didn't really care.

He couldn't stand around, trapped in his own intangible body, and do nothing for much longer.

"So… what does this mean?" Dick asked. "What happens now?"

The man's face squished oddly, and Dick couldn't figure out what he was thinking at all. "What happens now is that we make things right. Return you to the universe you're supposed to be dead in, and keep you in the universe you're supposed to be alive. It will be painful, but don't worry, neither of you will remember a thing."

"Neither-?"

Dick's question didn't get much further, because in an impossible blink of an eye, the man was right in front of Dick, hand pressing against the side of his head with his thumb pressed above the bridge of Dick's nose. Lightning shot through him, and his vision whited out. Everything became too much and so little at the same time. Hot and cold. Loud and silent. He might have screamed or he might have sighed.

Either way, the sensation didn't last for long.

Soon he wasn't feeling anything at all.

-o-o-o-o-

Damian hated this. He knew death and sorrow unlike most others. He had seen men and women fall in so many ways it was impossible to list them all. He had seen the way a corpse would slowly rot, and stink, and collapse. He had seen bodies feasted upon by wolves and flies alike.

He knew death. Yet, for a number of reasons, he just couldn't comprehend this one.

Because Richard couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. He was simply missing. Nowhere to be found.

He wasn't dead.

Damian didn't understand why everyone else insisted on believing otherwise. Father had said that he's searched, and for some reason that meant if Batman couldn't find him then he must not be able to be found. No one besides Damian argued with him. Even Timothy didn't believe him.

He at least had the decency to look ashamed when Damian called him out on it.

However, it seemed Damian's thoughts and feelings on the matter didn't, well, matter. Even though he was the last one to speak to Richard. Even though he knew for sure that Richard was somewhere alive out there, doing everything he could to get home. Damian swore he would continue to believe in that. No matter what. Even if these months turned into years. Even if Damian no longer remembered every detail of his face by thought alone.

Father wouldn't let him skip out on the fake funeral though.

Which was horrible for a massive amount of reasons. All of Richard's friends were here, sobbing and blabbering like children. The empty casket sat above a deep hole with flowers piled on top, and one by one someone would approach, say something emotional out loud or under their breath, then leave the flower in the mockery of Richard's life.

Damian was glad that his immediate family went first. That way he could slink to the back of the crowd and hold Titus by the leash. Watch from afar. Plan for the millionth time on how he was going to fix this.

That speedster… Wally West was in the middle of breaking down on top of the casket with large tears cascading down his cheeks when Damian felt a tug on the leash. Damian frowned and looked down at his normally perfectly behaved dog to see the animal trying to tug Damian towards the unoccupied grounds of the manor. Damian tugged Titus gently back, tutting at him under his breath.

Except, Titus didn't stay at Damian's side for long. The animal took one wide eyed look at Damian before turning tail and sprinting. The leash was yanked out from Damian's hand, and it was all Damian could do to not shout in surprise or outrage.

He nervously shot a look at the casket, where Donna Troy was now saying her goodbyes while West leaned onto her for support, making sure no one was watching him, then turned to chase after his disrespectful dog.

It might be a fake funeral, but it was a funeral nonetheless.

Damian ran after Titus, jumping over shrubbery and flowers like they were the gaps between rooftops, diving for the trailing leash whenever he got close enough.

He never got close enough.

Out of breath and covered in grass stains and twigs, Damian watched with glaring eyes as Titus took refuge in a carefully planned grove of trees. Thankfully, Damian saw the dog halt on the other side of a bush, bending his neck down to sniff at something. Probably a wild animal. Even though Damian could have sworn he trained Titus better than to chase rabbits or squirrels.

Damian stuffed his hands in his suit pockets and began to stomp his way over.

"Titus! Quit this misbehaving!"

Titus looked up from what he was sniffing, whined, then bent back down. Completely ignoring Damian.

What was going on with that dog?

Damian walked around the clump of bushes and between the trees, extremely curious as to what was so important that Titus would disregard orders for it.

When Damian saw what Titus was bent over, Damian felt every single molecule of air leave his body like he had been sucker-punched in the stomach.

"Richard?" Damian breathed. Double took. "Richard!"

He sprinted forward and Titus quickly jumped out of the way. Horrified and terrified and shaking, Damian grabbed Richard's shoulders and turned him around, for he was laying face down on the ground.

Richard groaned, but didn't open his eyes. Blood trickled down the corners of his lips and nose. His clothes were filthy. He looked like death.

But he was alive.

Damian turned to his good, good dog. "Go! Get father! Hurry!"

Titus didn't have to be told twice. He barked then sprinted back to the forest.

Damian turned back to Richard, running his hands across his body, taking in the loss of weight, the eye bags, the stains of mud all over his clothes. He shook his shoulders, trying to wake him up, but Richard remained asleep to the world.

It took a second to realize he was crying.

Thankfully, he was able to wipe them away when a confused and worried Bruce Wayne busted into the grove of trees along with the rest of the family and even a few of Richard's friends. Gasps and shouts filled the air, and Damian soon found himself pushed back as Dick was rushed to by the adults.

The ambulance was called not long after.

The drive to the hospital seemed like a dream.

The wait felt like it took years, but Richard only took about three hours to wake up, severely starved and dehydrated and not a single memory of the past five months.

And somehow, everything went back to normal. Richard was released from the hospital a few days later with a strict meal plan and physical therapy schedule. His memories didn't return, but sometimes Damian noticed things had changed in Richard since then.

Like his new and strange fear of small spaces and closed doors.

It didn't matter though. Damian was just… overjoyed that he was right and that Richard was still living a breathing, even if it seemed he had simply vanished and reappeared from thin air, with no trace of anything in-between.

All that mattered was that the family was whole again. Richard was on the road of a full recovery.

No one could ask for more.

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keity-devil · 3 years ago

Text

Black Sheep - Chapter 5.

"Hey, Morro.. It's me, Lloyd.. again.. Heh, I don't know if you could listen or read the other messages I've sent you so far. Uh.. I don't think who my mother gave you to.. you have access to communications. I don't really know why my mother doesn't either.. She don't let me try to communicate with you. Six years have passed.. Six years in which I don't know anything about you, but I think that you don't know either.. I-I found out that.. you're not really my brother, heh, I can't tell you brother now either... but.. cousin. Yes, I found out ... Ok, I didn't really find out. I rummaged through my mother's closet and came across some documents. I think the nickname you gave me when I was little really fit in that scenario. But hey, we're still relatives. I don't even want to imagine what was on your mind when you found out.. But hey, that doesn't change anything between us... d-does it? I still hope that day you promised will come true. One day. I'll wait for you and keep waiting. I hope you're fine where you are... Hey, two more years. If I knew where you are now, I would run there and bring you home with my hand. Be safe, brother."

He closed the call. He set the phone aside. He felt his chest and head ache with all the sadness and harassment of the rest of the people who made his life an agony because of his last name. The longing for the person who was his pillar of support and the closest to his soul from his childhood, could not be close to him. He still has the strength and desire to live for the day when they will see each other again. That's why he wakes up in the morning day after day. For His Brother.

------

"Shut up...! Shut up..! Shut up! Shut up!!"

Morro was going through an anxiety attack, too much overthinking and stress. A panic attack. It wasn't the first time, but it wasn't the last. The nightmares were chained. The same stress over and over again. Too many thoughts. They were all on him.

"Shut up... shut up... it's not true... shut up..."

Dark voices were heard, heard only by him. Voices and feelings that did not give his peace, the peace he wanted. He could feel the wind intensifying. How the cold air slowly suffocated him. He couldn't stop him. He couldn't stop him. He was afraid.

"Morro? Is... is everything okay there?" Wu asked worriedly. He had heard the boy's scream, but he could not feel the inexplicable coolness of the wind.

"Yeah.. yeah.. I'm.. I'm fine, Dad..."

He managed to speak, with difficulty, but he succeeded. He waited quietly until the Master's footsteps moved away from the door. Wu was giving him space, and Morro was grateful for that, now. Even though he sometimes wished Wu wasn't so cold with him.

"Two more years... it's not long... two more years..."

The wind calmed down slowly, too, too... slowly. The suffocation was still lurking. Dizziness also appeared from the shadows.

"Please... stop... please..."

Tears burning his cheeks, rolled and fell one after another, a few seconds apart.

------

"Morro, are you sure you'll be able to handle these months on your own?"

"Don't worry, Dad, I can handle it. Trust me."

"Yes, I trust you, son. If there's anything, don't hesitate to contact me."

Morro kept a fake smile on his face.

'How to contact, old man? With the phone you hid from me somewhere in this house?'

"Of course."

Morro waited until Wu was out of sight. When he could no longer see him, he ran inside and threw himself on the bed, closing his aching eyes.

"Uughh... two years... two years. Stay calm little gremlin, we have two more years to survive."

He opened his eyes.

"Aaaaahhh!!!"

In front of him, was a specter looking at him curiously. He saw through the person. He turned quickly, but hit his back against the cold wall.

"Shhh! Calm down. No need to scream and shake!"

"B-but- y-you- I- " He looked better at the thing in front of him that was talking to him. It looked, green.. and transparent.. shining faintly... "Wait.. you..are you a ghost?"

"You can say it again, bud."

"No no." He shook his head and slapped his forehead lightly. "This is a dream. Yes, yes... a dream. There are no ghosts. Everyone knows they don't exist!"

"Aha. That's why Garmadon is an Oni and Destruction on Earth, huh? If Oni exists, Elemental powers exist, ghosts cannot exist?"

Morro looked annoyed with a slight confusion in his eyes at the ghost in front of him. Yes, there are ghosts, he can't deny that. And dream? It's not in one, unfortunately.

"Who are you?" But still, he was curious. It was a curious cat. He was fascinated by what he saw.

"My name is Wrayth, what do I serve you?"

"Uh... what..?" He was confused.

'What's with this ghost?'

"It's a rhyme of mine, young Morro."

"How do you know my name?"

"Ooh, believe me when I tell you that my friends and I known you for a long time!" He said it lightly, too... lightly.

"Friends?"

"Yeah. They'll show up, too, but later. Tomorrow. And one of them has been contacting you vocally since you've been here! Ugh... Damn you Archer.." He float closer to Morro's face. "But now you are with me, Master of the Wind."

"Master of- Wait, wait, WAIT. Slow down. What are you talking about with 'you're with me now'? And how do you know about my powers?"

"I know a lot! I'm impressed that the Master of Creation, Wu Garmadon, didn't realize you had them. Or did he realize and shut up? I don't think he knew. Or did he?"

"What the..."

'What's going on with my life?!'

Breathe..

Exhale..

'I have to be calm. Calm. Don't worry. '

"Okay, okay." Wrayth looked at him. "So let's see if I got it right. You're a ghost named Wrayth."

"Yep."

"And I can see ghosts?"

"Yep."

"How? How can I see ghosts?"

"That is more, complicated."

Morro leaned back against the wall, his hands folded and his gaze cold.

"Well, we have time. So explain. I want answers. I'm tired of lies and secrets up to my neck."

Wrayth looked him deep in the eye. After, he bowed to him. Morro was surprised by the bow, but he also liked it on one side.

"Very well." Floats in front of him at a minimum distance, with his legs crossed. "Have you ever heard of 'Ghost Warrior'?"

How could you not have heard of him. He brought nightmares to Lloyd for two whole weeks. He could barely sleep at night, but even when he did, he was at peace that at least he had a good and peaceful sleep.

"Yes. Yes, I heard. What does that urban story have to do with me?"

"You are, The Ghost Warrior."

Morro snorted instantly in a laugh. "Ha! Good one. Oh! Who knew the dead could have a sense of humor."

"It's not a joke, Morro." He was serious, but Morro still didn't believe his words.

"I don't know if you noticed, metal ribbons, but I'm not a ghost, am I? I'm alive. A.L.I.V.E. Alive."

"You are the successor. I know that sounds weird and unbelievable- "

"More that unbelievable."

"-but it's true. Only you can see us. Doesn't it seem strange that you can see ghosts? That when your brother- sorry, your cousin-" Morro looked down, but then he look up at the ghost with a dead stare. The ghost swallowed in sec.

'Oh God... he kills me twice with that look...'

However, he managed to recover and not to seem affected by the beautiful look he was given.

"He first told you about this story, you felt he was somehow known to you, didn't you?"

His gaze had caught his surprised. "How do you know about that scene? It was in my mind. How-"

"I told you, I've been following you for a long time."

"Creep. ... Let's say I'm this 'Ghost Warrior', what Destiny do I have? I'm dying in the end? Defeated by the hero?"

"The Ghost Warrior doesn't have a specific ending. He broke his Destiny. His Destiny is how he does it now."

"So you're saying I don't have a specific Destiny?"

"Yes."

'So in short, I belong to no one in Destiny. Splendid.'

A pause followed. A long one. Wrayth can't stand it, Morro does. Morro had time to think about what he had learned, and Wrayth wanted to continue the conversation. He waited years to talk to this boy, now it's his time to shine.

"We continue?"

"Oh, yes, yes.." He pulled him out of his thought bubble. "Sorry. Uh... and you said something about some friends. Which.. will they come too?"

"Three friends. That's it. Or two more. The other one doesn't, eh. He has another, 'mission'." He laughed at the end.

"Okay, okay. So far, so good. I think... Oh, did you say I already talked to one of them?"

"Oh! Yes! I don't know if you still remember, but do you know when you had a little panic attack when you first came here and someone told you everything would be fine?"

"Yes..?"

"That was Soul Archer. He is the most mature and with his feet on the Earth between us, well, and the scarecrow is. Heh, on Earth, lol."

It was even more bizarre now. Not that finding out that he could see the dead and suddenly finding out that he was the Ghost Warrior and his Destiny had broken, them was not sinister enough. But the thought of being chased, seen, by three or four ghosts, he said, made him tremble a little.

"I'll get over what you said. I feel like my mind is going to explode. There's too much information all of a sudden."

"Uuuh. Nooo. You're fine."

"If Dad knew about it, why didn't he tell me anything?"

"Hmmm. I don't think he knows. But when he finds out, he'll be in SHOCK!" A chaotic laugh enveloped the ghost, and on the brunette confusion and irritation.

"And that's funny because..?"

"Yeah! Logical. You have a semi-dark humor, Morro. Why isn't that funny to you? You're emoooo."

"I'm in shock, Wrayth. Shock. And I just found out I'm a Ghost Warrior- what will that be, and I see dead people. And that's no excuse! Emo, okay, and?"

". . . Yeaaah... Hehe."

"It's good that my father is gone. He would drive me crazy when he heard me talking to myself. I wonder how long and where exactly he went."

"I can turn into a human." It didn't matter what Morro just said. "To think there's someone here. You know, you'd have a friend. Even if you don't have one."

"Can You- Can You Do What!!?"

"Oh, yes! Only some ghosts can. I mean, me and my friends. I don't really know how we can do that. We just can." He bragged proudly and cheerfully.

"But don't you have to possess someone? That would make more sense."

"Pfft- HA! It would have more sense if you weren't here. Alive."

"H- what...? It doesn't make sense what you just said!"

"Exact."

"Not 'exact'! Explain."

"Oh, look what time it is! I have to evaporate.~ But be at peace, see you at training tomorrow! Bye bye!"

"Training?! No! Get over here- Agh!!" He fell out of bed trying to catch a ghost he couldn't touch. "You're sooo smart, Morro... Now you're surrounded by ghosts that, I pary, don't possess me."

He sighed, trying to get up from the floor, but he could feel his hands starting to tremble.

"Not now... please not now...!"

The wind had begun to blow uncontrollably again, and it fell to the ground once more. He was helpless. His hands were shaking and his throat was dry. He tried to breathe properly and calmly, but the cold, harsh, uncontrollable wind didn't help him at all. The stings in the head area not so much help neither.

"W-why have I always been left a-alone in situations like t-this...?"

His gaze darkened until, he suddenly saw white.

------

"Hey Morro, it's me, again. I'm... heh, alone at home, nothing new. My mother stays at work longer. I found out that my dear father is a super villain. Ironically, right? Well... now I understand when you told me that because of Destiny, my father..left. You knew the reason for his leaving, didn't you? And my mother made you promise not to tell me anything. ... I still don't know where you are... I hope you are well- please be well! ... But there is another year! I can't wait to see you again and hear your voice.. I'm curious how much you have been change in these years. I-I... I... "

He started to cry, but he was still smiling.

"Please come back home.. please... I need you.. please..."

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

Enjoy!

Because Idk when Chapter 6 will be post, because for 6 I have a little block inspiration.

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hailhydra920 · 4 years ago

Text

Puppy Guard

Steve x Reader

Warnings: None.

The first time Steve had visited your house, your german shepherd, Komodor, a.k.a. Komo, began to growl.

"Komo, it's okay. Steve's a friend." You said lightly petting him.

Steve smiled at the dog and went to pet him, but Komo just growled. Steve moved his hand into his pocket and put on a smile.

"Cute dog."

"Thanks." You said as Komo barked happily and rubbed against your legs.

You walked into the kitchen, getting ready to prepare some food for you and Steve. What you didn't know was that Komo and Steve were having an epic stare down. Steve didn't even know dogs could glare like Komo was doing, but he never backed down from a challenge. Komo began to lowly growl, and Steve tensed his shoulders. Just as Steve and Komo were about to lunge at each other, you walked in again.

"Does breakfast for dinner sound good?" You asked as you saw Steve and Komo were sitting with happy expressions.

"Sounds great." Steve said as you entered the kitchen again.

Once you were out of site, Steve and Komo started glaring at each other and Komo got in an attacking position. Komo was a huge german shepherd, that Steve could not deny. If this thing was gonna fight him, it would put up a pretty good fight. Komo lunged forward and took Steve to the ground. Komo growled by Steve's face and Steve was about to throw off Komo, when you entered again.

"Aw, he's warming up to you Steve." You said as you saw Komo sitting on top of Steve. "He's already playing with you. I knew you guys would like each other. I'm gonna start some laundry, so I won't disturb you guys. Komo looks like he's having so much fun."

Once you left, Komo began growling again. Steve rolled over, pinning Komo in the process and laughed.

"Who's better now?" Steve said as Komo growled and rolled out from under Steve.

Komo bit Steve's leg and the caused Steve to muffle his cry of pain, not wanting to upset you. Steve grabbed Komo and they began wrestling on the ground in a full out brawl. Let's just say, Steve hates that dog.

~~~~~~~

The 10th time Steve saw Komo was his worst nightmare. You had asked Steve to look after Komo for a few days because you had to rush home for a family emergency. Steve of course said yes, and you had dropped Komo off that night.

Steve locked his door that night and stood in his room contemplating on how he was going to survive the next few days. Steve reached into his pocket and felt the velvet box. He was going to to ask to you marry him, he was sure you were the one. There was only one obstacle, and that was Komo.

Steve woke up the next morning and cautiously opened the door. Komo began to growl from the other side and he quickly closed it and locked it again. Steve bolted to his phone and dialed Bucky's number.

"Hey, Steve. What's up?"

"I need help! There is an angry german shepherd in my house and I have no idea what to do!" Steve exclaimed.

Bucky chuckled on the other side of the phone. "Let me guess, you're babysitting Y/n's dog."

"Dog? More like a demon! Do you remember what I told you he did last time?! He tripped me, making me drop my chicken tenders, and he even had the audacity to interrupt my kiss with Y/n before I left!"

"Oh Steve. Do you need me to come over and help?" Bucky asked as he held back another chuckled.

"Yes, please." Steve said as he heard Bucky shuffling on the other side of the line.

"Alright, I'll be there in ten. Key is still under the mat?"

"Yup. But beware when you enter. That dog is a monster!"

After Steve put his phone down, he prepared for battle. Anything could happen in the war zone. Steve pulled his shield from out of the closet, and sighed. This was gonna be ruff. (Pun intended)

~~~~~~~

Bucky got to Steve's house and unlocked the door. He entered the house and everything seemed fine. Bucky closed the door behind him and saw something zoom past him. Was it the demon? Bucky checked his surrounding and then took another step. Komo kept out of nowhere and pinned Bucky to the floor.

"Steve!" Bucky shouted as he tried to scramble away from the gigantic dog. "I need back up!"

Komo was growling and Bucky began to tussle with the him. He was greatly surprised by the dog's strength and pure attack attitude.

"I'm coming Bucky!" Steve said charging out of the room, pillows strapped to his back and chest, shield in his hand..

Steve tackled to dog, giving Bucky time to get up.

"Get to my room!" Steve said as he tried to pry Komo off of him.

Bucky didn't need to be told twice, he dashed into the room quicker than Pietro. Steve was able to throw Komo onto the couch, and then Steve darted into his room, Komo trailing behind him.

Once Steve jumped into his room, Bucky quickly closed and locked the door behind him. They heard snarls and growls coming from the other side and back away from it. Bucky turned toward Steve and quirked an eyebrow.

"Pillows? Seriously?"

Steve huffed. "I needed to protect my body."

"That's what the shield is for." Bucky said as he sat on Steve's bed.

"You can never be too careful." Steve said with a shrug.

"So, are we trapped in here till dinner?" Bucky asked.

Steve looked at Bucky like he had glowing green skin. "Are you crazy? Forget dinner! We need to know how to get to the bathroom in one piece!"

Bucky looked at Steve unamused.

"I'm sorry. I have to use the bathroom, and I don't have one connected to my bedroom!" Steve said as he ran his hand through his tussled hair. "I think we should call Sam."

"What? No!" Bucky refuted. "Like he would fair any better than us."

"Well, he had mentioned before that he had worked with war dogs before, and that demon, er, I mean, Komo is a retired war dog."

"No. Not until we reeeeeaaaaalllly need it." Bucky said crossing his arms.

~~~~~~~

"Okay, okay! Call Sam!" Bucky said, making Steve jump.

"It's only been 10 minutes." Steve said turning toward Bucky.

"I can't bear the thought of going without dinner!"

"Good, because I didn't think you could bear me squirming much longer. I really gotta go."

~~~~~~~

"Sam can you stop laughing and just get your butt over here?!" Bucky growled over the phone.

"I'm s-sorry. I just...(Sam laughs loudly) You guys are being schooled by a dog." Sam said breathlessly as he wiped a tear from his eye. "I'll be over soon."

Bucky angrily set the phone down and grumbled. "I hate Sam."

"Well, he's about to help us, so be grateful."

"I hope that dog attacks him."

~~~~~~~

Sam opened the door and saw no one. He rounded the hallway. Worst mistake of his life. Komo was waiting like a creepy stalker and pounced.

"Help! Help! Somebody help me!" Sam cried as Komo began to bite his pants, causing them to rip. "Help!"

Komo was growling and biting Sam's leg as he cried out in fear. "Steve! Bucky! Get yours butts out here!"

Meanwhile...

Bucky and Steve were blasting music inside of the room. Jammin' out and trying to forget that there was a horrid beast on the other side of the door. Bucky and Steve began singing to Asher Angel's Guilty.

"Do you feel guilty?!" They sang in unison.

They just kept singing, trying to forget the world.

Back with Sam...

"Back away! Back away you demon!" Sam said, rolling pin in hand as he swung it toward Komo.

Sam looked like a disaster. His face was scratched up and his pants were in shreds, revealing his pink heart underwear. Sam was a mad man. Flailing his rolling pin of destruction any time Komo came near. He threw a dog treat he had in his pocket to the far side of the room. Komo bolted after it and Sam took his chance. He ran toward Steve's room, desperately trying to open the locked door. He banged on it as Komo began edging toward him once again.

"Guys! Open this door! Open it now!" Sam screamed as he banged ferociously on the door.

Bucky and Steve...

"Picture perfect you don't need no filter!" They sang as they danced around the room.

"Wait...do you gear something?" Bucky asked.

"No, who would it be..."

"SAM!" They exclaimed in unison.

They quickly unlocked the door and looked for Sam. They heard his girl like screams as he was being dragged away by Komo.

"He's a goner." Bucky said closing his eyes in fake sadness.

"Bucky! We have to do something!" Steve said grabbing his shield.

"Fine."

After strapping pillows around them, they went into the danger zone. They followed Sam's screams down the hall and saw Sam desperately fighting for his life.

"Now!" Steve called as Bucky tackled Komo to the ground pining Komo.

Sam scrabbled up, fear swirling in his eyes, as he kept shouting, "Demon! Demon! Demon!"

With the quickness of lightning, the trio ran into Steve's room. They were huffing and puffing as they locked the door behind him.

"Who's the victim now?" Bucky said as Sam glared at him.

"Don't. Just don't." Sam growled.

Steve's phone began to ring. Steve picked it up and you began to talk.

"Hi Steve. Is everything going alright?" You asked with a smile on the phone.

Sam snatched the phone out of Steve's hand and began yelling into it.

"It's a demon! It's a demon dog!"

Steve grabbed the phone out of Sam's hand and glared at him.

"Is Sam okay?" You asked with concern.

Steve let out a transparent chuckle. "Of course honey. We just watched a scary movie and Sam is a little spooked. Everything is just peachy."

"Oh, that's good." You said with a sigh of relief. "How is Komo?"

Steve took in a deep breath. "Just great honey." Steve lied.

"That's good. I was worried he would be a little scared with me gone, but it seems like you have everything under control. I love you." You said making a kiss noise.

"I love you too." Steve said with a smile. "Goodnight love."

"Night Stevie." You said hanging up.

Once the call ended, Bucky pushed Steve. "Why didn't you tell her she owns a very scary creature and that it's torturing us?!"

"I didn't want her to worry, and I don't want this to ruin our relationship. I love Y/n with all my heart." Steve said as Bucky shook his head.

"Great. We're gonna die." Sam said with a laugh.

A/n: Part 2? Let me know!

#steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson #Fluff #humor #dog #marvel #x reader

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simplybakugou · 4 years ago

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Warmth

↝ Following a traumatic event from a few years ago, you find yourself in a moment of panic before your boyfriend is there to comfort you.

BINGO SPACE: Sharing Clothes

⋆ PAIRING: prohero!kirishima x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: reader undergoing a panic attack; fluff ⋆ WORD COUNT: 1826

A/N: when i got this prompt i was initially going to write another purely fluff scenario but for some reason i wasn’t feeling the best earlier this week and decided to make this so here’s another @bnhabookclub bingo fic for kiri. thank you to the anon who requested kirishima for this prompt! the transparent kirishima cap is from the bnhabookclub drive!

FULL BINGO MASTERLIST

✐posted 08.25.2020✐

The apartment felt colder than it did on most days, a shiver travelling down your spine as you huddled under your blanket to provide some heat for you. Your eyes glanced back and forth from your phone which was sitting on the coffee table and the TV screen right in front of you. You flipped through the various channels, rolling your eyes as the occasional gossip site would cover some bullshit story about pro heros and other celebrities. There were even some reporters covering a story about your relationship with Kirishima, who happened to be one of the top heroes in the world.

Finally you settled onto a regular news station as the woman on the screen informed the audience that the professional hero conference was a success and those who attended, Kirishima included, were on their way back home. You smiled at the sight of photographers and paparazzi capturing several videos of Kirishima waving to them as he was at the airport and was on his way back to you, which you were absolutely ecstatic to see him once again.

You grabbed your phone, deciding to send him a quick text to make sure he was safe and to ask if the flight back home was okay. Although the news indicated that he was in Japan once again, you wanted to hear the confirmation directly from him.

Kirishima replied right away, letting you know that he was at the airport and to give him ten minutes till he got into the car. It may have been overbearing, but you missed him terribly during the week that he was away for the conference.

Your relationship with Kirishima was one that felt like it lasted a lifetime. You both went to the same middle school, Mustafa Private Middle School. You were close with Ashido Mina and together the two of you stood out as the two happy-go-lucky girls. Mina was always upbeat and caring with the way she spoke with others and while you were kind in your own way as you didn’t hesitate to stick up for anyone who needed it. It was one thing Kirishima still admired about you and it was what made you stand out from the other girls in his grade. You even almost got suspended once for nearly getting into a fight with a boy for bullying one of the girls in your class. Needless to say, you impressed Kirishima quite a bit. Although you were known for your confrontational behavior, you had no interest in being a hero like Kirishima. Either way you were a hero in his eyes.

By the time you graduated from middle school and were on your way to high school, you and Kirishima parted ways and he was enrolled at U.A. while you were attending a regular high school. You hadn’t heard from him since then, only seeing his face on the news occasionally during the U.A. sports festivals and from when class A would often be targeted by the League of Villains.

With time you flourished into an adult and began working a boring office job, one that you didn’t mind as at least it was paying the bills. One unfortunate day at work, it suddenly began pouring with thunder and lightning striking the bleak skies. While you were at your desk working like you did every other day, a villain sent a lightning strike right into the office building. The scene was quickly put into a state of panic as people began freaking out as their lives were quite evidently put into danger.

You assisted as many people as you could, urging your coworkers to calm down as everyone attempted to evacuate before the heroes and authorities could come. And soon enough Kirishima was one of the heroes who came onto the scene, using his quirk to protect people as the building began to crumble at an alarming rate.

As you had finally helped out as many people as you could, due to your selflessness, you weren’t able to protect yourself as efficiently as you protected others as you ended up being trapped between large chunks of cinder block and cement blocking the exit. The villain was still inside the building, causing as much damage as he could before he was reprimanded and restrained.

It was a terrifying experience, watching those you couldn’t help be crushed under the weight of the building and feeling like you could have done something if you were faster and stronger.

Eventually help arrived in the form of your middle school classmate. Kirishima broke through the makeshift barrier and right when one of the beams holding the building up was about to collapse and crush you along with it, Kirishima dove right in front of you, using his body as a shield as he held the weight of the beam.

You locked eyes with him during this as you were frozen in fear and shock from what had happened. In a matter of seconds he recognized you and you already knew who he was because he was the Red Riot.

Eventually the situation was under control and you had gotten outside, being examined by paramedics who had come onto the scene to bring those who were injured to the hospital. Your eyes scanned through the area as the rain continued to pour down. You shivered from the cold and your head was pounding as the thunder continued to roar through the sky.

You managed to find Kirishima’s blinding crimson hair in the crowd, approaching him before any reporters could swarm him. You wanted to personally thank him and a small part of you wanted him to recognize you. He was glad to see that you were okay and you had grown into a fine woman. Being as bold as you were, you gave him your number, wanting to catch up with an old friend from middle school once you realized he had recognized you.

Somewhere along the way during the time you and Kirishima would text each other nearly everyday, you ended up asking him out on a date. Since then you had been dating for three years.

As you were waiting for Kirishima’s call, the crack of thunder roaring echoed throughout the area and you flinched from the sound. Since the accident at your previous job, even the slightest sound of thunder or flash of lightning terrified you and you couldn’t help but be scared in that moment as well.

Your phone began ringing, taking your mind off your fears as you smiled softly at the sight of Kirishima’s name and picture popping up on your screen.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kirishima asked, his voice filled with concern. He knew how scary these thunderstorms were for you, having seen the way you reacted when you heard the initial thunderstrike.

“I’m okay for now… just waiting for you to come home,” you replied, your eyes darting towards the window as the rain was pelting the glass harshly.

As you were about to say something else, you let out a yelp as the thunder belted in the sky and the power went out right after.

“What’s going on? What happened?” Kirishima asked from the other line and before you could give a proper response, the call was cut as the power shortage cut the internet as well, ultimately interfering with your call. The phone dropped from your hand as you felt nauseated, your head spinning in the process.

With each thundering roar belting through the air, echoing through your mind like a punch to the head, you felt yourself get up, trying to find a space that could quieten the maddening sound. You practically ran into your bedroom, locking yourself in the small area in your shared closet with Kirishima.

You fell to the floor, your knees brought up to your chest as you covered your ears. Your heart was racing a million miles per minute against your chest and your body was trembling in fear. Although the thunder was not as loud as it was outside, you could still hear it faintly and it made you whimper and cower even more in fear. The memories of being trapped and feeling helpless a few years ago flooded your mind as you were reminded of the horrific event.

One of Kirishima’s hoodies that you managed to snag from him fell off the hanger, landing on your head. You sniffled, removing the material from your head as Kirishima’s scent invaded your nostrils. It felt comforting and so you slipped it over your head. You hugged yourself with the oversized hoodie enveloping you, as if Kirishima was right beside you during this terrifying time.

While this was occurring, Kirishima slammed open the door to your apartment, dropping the suitcase to the floor as he used the flashlight on his phone to see where you were. “Y/N?!” He called out, hoping you would answer.

He navigated throughout the apartment, already putting two and two together as he knew where you were. He had grown accustomed to these panic attacks you underwent during thunderstorms and the minute he landed in Japan and saw the meteorologists inform the Japanese public on the news that it would thunderstorm all day, he couldn’t stop worrying about you.

He entered the bedroom, darting straight for the closet. He knocked on the door before opening it to let you know he was there. He opened the doors, moving several articles of your clothing out of the way as he knelt down in front of you.

Kirishima wrapped his arms around you, lifting you up from the floor as he sat down and held you on his lap. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”

You clutched onto him as he rubbed small circles onto your back, easing the nauseating feeling from before. You hadn’t even realized the tears that were streaking your face as you nuzzled your face into Kirishima’s shoulder as he held you in his arms.

Shortly after the accident, you had to deal with this trauma on your own. It was terrifying, feeling like something dangerous was about to happen like you had no control over what would happen. The villain from back then used his thunder and lightning quirk to instill fear into all of the employees in the building that day not to mention he attacked innocent civilians in the process. As a result, you were traumatized everytime you heard thunder or even saw the slightest flash of lightning from the distance. You never felt more alone until you had to deal with these moments of panic on your own.

But in that moment you felt safe as Kirishima was holding onto you tightly, not daring to let go for a second until he could confirm that you were okay.

You never had to worry about being alone anymore as the warmth from his body and his presence was there to comfort you.

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#tw: panic attack #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #eijirou x reader #Kirishima Eijirou #bnha kirishima #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #boku no hero imagines #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines

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drakewalkerfantasy · 4 years ago

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Countdown: Part 1 (Ethan x Diana, Beckett)

Summary: After an assassination attempt on Senator Ed, four people got trapped together to fight for their lives. Who will die and who will live? What was in the black canister and if this substance has a cure? Will it be possible for brilliant diagnostician to push his emotions aside to same the woman he loves with a help of the friend and one of the best surgeons Edenbrook ever had.

Words: 3520

Authors notes: A crossover of Open Heart and the Elementalists.

Ethan x OH mc (Diana)

Beckett

**Warnings: assassination attempt / pregnant woman trapped to fight for her life**

Diana's heart beat faster, while she watched the black aerosol canister, that was falling to the ground empty, hitting the tiled floor with a deafening thud. Everything around her was happening like in a slow motion. She raised her head looking through the glass window. Her hair bounced from the motion, and she swallowed hard, looking back at the empty canister lying forgotten on the floor. Her analytical mind tried to figure out what had just happened and what it could mean to her... to them.

It didn't seem good... Whatever was in that canister wasn’t good... and as more she thought about this the more she realised that whatever was in that black canister more likely was fatal. Her hand involuntarily moved to her stomach, and her heart painfully twisted when she looked up meeting Ethan’s gaze. He was standing on the other side of the window, his eyes wide with horror and she instantly knew that the same realisation hit him.

She could practically hear, how his mind was racing, analysing the situation, trying to understand how bad this could be. His eyes darting toward her hand cradling her still flat belly. The simple diamond ring, he gave her not more than a couple of weeks ago, adorned proudly her right hand. Her name left his dry lips just above the whisper.

It took him barely a second to process and analyse everything that was happening inside the room. The realisation of reality more terrifying, but he still took a step forward ready to come inside guided by his heart rather than his mind.

“Ethan, don't come in here,” shouted Diana, racing toward the door and holding it shut. Her wolfish grey eyes meeting his ocean blues through the window, while she shook her head letting him know that he cannot enter. She could see the look of confusion passing his eyes before his sharp mind could caught up taking over his throbbing heart.

“What's going on, Diana?” asked Ethan, looking at her through the transparent barrier between them. Somehow he already knew that whatever substance was released inside this room was nothing good. His heart twisted painfully looking at Diana's paling face, feeling helpless... feeling useless.

“Travis just tried to kill Senator Ed,” she explained, trying to keep calm. But the way her breath hitched slightly and her voice trembled, didn’t miss Ethan’s penetrating gaze, giving away everything what he needed to know. Hesitantly he pressed his hand to the window, silently offering the comfort and support she seeked for. Watching Diana put her's in return. “Ed got out, but we have no idea what was in there. Bobby took the full blast of it to the face, and Danny and Raf were both right there when it got deployed...”

“And you?” asked Ethan quietly. So quiet that she would miss it if her eyes wouldn’t be fixed on him.

“And I... I breathed some in,” confessed Diana, swallowing thickly while their foreheads pressed together separated only by the thin layer of glass. “Whatever it is, its clearly dangerous. We cannot risk it getting out into the rest of the hospital,” whispered Diana, her voice muffled and weak. Her eyes trained now on the buttons of his shirt not daring to meet his ocean blue eyes. Feeling like she would fall apart, if she would look into his eyes again... not knowing if she will ever see him again.

Her bottom lip quivered from barely restrained tears. Her right hand balling into the fist and her long manicured nails dug painfully into her palm leaving bleeding cuts. Their eyes glistening with unshed tears, while realisation slowly settled on them. But as doctors they knew that they had responsibilities and they needed to come to terms with it for the sake of those whose lives they vowed to save... for the sake of those who still could be saved.

And if whatever was in this canister was as dangerous as they suspected it have been, it was their responsibility to keep everyone who was compromised by the substance locked inside this room. Including the woman, Ethan spent so much time trying to resist. The woman, who carried his unborn child. The woman who supposed to be his wife and spend the rest of their lives together, loving each other. But now everything seemed to be lost... and their future seemed to be doomed.

Throwing the sad thoughts out of his head, Ethan tried to catch Diana's eye, but to no avail. His hands clenched into fists, leaning against the window separating them. His eyes are the softest shade of blue sky, but the determination in them was almost frightening, adding silver sparks of steel.

“Yes, you are right,” he said, trying to push his emotions aside. His voice coming out more strained than intended, and no matter how hard he tried to hide them, the notes of fear still laced through it. “We have to stop it from spreading.”

They both looked around the room, standing on the opposite sides of the window. And the scene that was unfolding in front of their eyes was frightening.

They could see how Danny lurched to the side, vomiting hard. Could see how Travis’s body collapsed to the floor, shuddering violently. And they could see how Bobby's stopped moving entirely.

Diana felt how her heart twisted painfully, when she backed away from the window. Her eyes met Ethan's who already was fumbling with his phone, getting it out from his coat with shaking fingers. Her emotions washing over her, almost too much to handle, but she forcefully stopped them. The teeth dug in her bottom lip painfully to stop the tears and the tender skin broke under the force, leaving a little dots of blood behind. The knowledge that the patients and her unsuspecting colleagues needed her to be strong... that Ethan needed her to stay strong filled her with determination she needed and she went deeper into the room as if nothing else mattered apart of the safety of everyone else outside of that room... of everyone who weren't trapped in there.

For a moment she closed her eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths. Her mind involunterily going to her best friend remembering the technique he once taught her. The memory too painful to hold back tears. And her teeth dug even deeper into her lower lip cutting through the soft delicate skin. It took everything in her to try and suppress the soft sob from escaping her throat, when she heard his voice ringing clearly in her head.

“Zeroing in, push everything out of your mind, concentrate on something that is important and dear to you. What will hold you in a moment. Will calm you.”

His voice calming her, steadying her breathes. Her eyes are closed, and she easily followed the steps, pushing everything out except of what was important and dear to her. Beckett's voice inside her head flowed effortlessly, bringing her to the happiest moments of her childhood. The freckled face of the boy next door appeared in front of her eyes. The one who encouraged her and supported even through every stupid mistake she made. Who was there for her every time she fall down only to help her to get up. Who never told her “I told you so” even when she more likely deserved it. And the one who was there for her when her heart was broken over and over by the man she loved.

The man she loved... Diana whispered, her voice just barely audible. Her eyes flew open looking back at the window, watching Ethan already on the phone giving orders. His strides abrupt, his hand racking nervously through his thick hair, and his shoulders sunk as if heavy weight of the world was placed on them.

Her mind focusing on him, remembering and holding onto memories that they made together. Memories that were priceless to her, memories that she would never want to forget, no matter how painful or happy they were. Her eyes closing, taking a steadying breathe.

The first memory is the first night they spend together... just the two of them in the hotel’s shower, when their eyes met for the first time. The wolfish grey meeting ocean blues. Their fingers intertwined, their souls connecting, and her name leaving his lips like a prayer, joined by his just a second later with a moan.

Another memory rolled over her and another meeting only five years later in a hospital’s hall marked the day when they reappeared suddenly in each other lives. The day when they got drawn once again into the whirlpool of feelings they once felt and never were able to forget no matter how hard they tried to drown them away...

The first code blue... Donahue’s... Baseball game... The coffee house... The supply closet and her panick attack... Dolores... All of that was the beginning of something new... something that was leading them to the final step Miami, to the moment when their lives would be divided forever on before and after the way they would never expect it to happen...

The child of surprise... their little bean that was conceived the first night in Miami when they finally stopped resisting... stopped fighting... and when they finally were ready to turn the page in their lives and move forward not afraid anymore and more than willing to take the leap... the day she found out she was pregnant was the scariest day in her life, but the day she dumped the news on Ethan became the most happiest. And she was sure that nothing ever could top that... how wrong she was...

A couple of weeks later New Year's Eve came and here, just before the first bells rang and the first burst of fireworks lit up the night sky, under the whirling snowflakes, he proposed. The promise of forever and more... the happiest memory that should be her happily ever after with the man she loved... with the man who loved her.

The tears flowed freely, but surprisingly these memories calmed her and cleared her head, making her see what needed to be done.

Slowly she opened her eyes, wiping out her tears and backed deeper into the room.

After finishing the initial isolation of the room, Diana quickly sat next to Danny who was laying slumped against the wall breathing heavily. His pulse so weak and slow that she found it hard to find at first. But when she moved to Bobby's unmoving body, she couldn't find one at all.

——————————————————

Ending the phone call Ethan went back toward the window and stood in front of Diana, waiting for her. When she met him there, her lips spread in a soft but tired smile. The beads of sweat on her forehead and a slight shiver that ran through her did not escape his keen eyes.

“The C.D.C. are on the way. You’ll be fine Diana,” whispered he, pressing his forehead to the cold glass as if trying to get as close to her as possible. His eyes lowering onto her stomach. His hand moving toward it as if wanting to place it on top of her flat tummy, wanting to make a promise he shouldn’t have been making. “You’ll both be fine.” he said, giving Diana a comforting reassuring look hoping to see the small flicker of hope that would sparkle in Diana’s eyes. The hope that would guide her through this until they would figure out how to save them. But the spark of hope never came as she looked deep in his eyes, knowing him far too well to miss the terror in them.

——————————————————

Meantime, unsuspecting Beckett was performing the one of the most rare and risky surgeries. The surgery, only two people in Edenbrook were qualified to do. His eyes trained on the woman in front of him, making an incision when he was distracted by the loud whispers coming from observation room. His brows furrowed immediately and he glanced over to see Ines, the third year diagnostician’s resident, talking with none other than Ethan Ramsey. It took him only a quick glance toward the older doctor to know that something had happened. The feeling of dread ran through him when their gaze met through the observation’s window, and when he noticed the look of devastation and sadness passing his eyes, he knew immidietly that something really bad have happened. As he seen this look once, but will never forget.

What could possibly happen that would make Ethan look like that... He wondered, the bad feeling creeped up his spine, when he looked at Ethan again. This was the same feeling he felt every time when something bad happened to Diana, his best friend... the girl who was like a sister to him.

“Dr. Delarosa... what’s happening out there?” he asked, trying to keep his hands and voice as steady as possible, raising his voice slightly to attract her attention from the conversation she had.

Ines reluctantly hit the button on the intercom, throwing a quick glance to the older attendant.

“There’s been an assassination attempt on Senator Ed,” she started hesitantly, it was clear to everyone who already heard what happened, that she wasn’t willing to be the one to bring the news to the young surgeon. As specially, not when he held someone’s life in his hands and when the life of his best friend was thretened. But after a moment of hesitation her voice rung again through the dinamic. “He’s okay... but apparently some staff were caught in the crossfire.”

“Diana...,” he breathed out. His eyes locked with Ethan’s in an intense gaze, watching him nod his head slightly confirming what he was already suspecting. And for the first time in Beckett’s career, his scalpel hand shaked. “Is she okay?” Beckett asked trying to keep his voice steady, his eyes holding Ethan’s gaze stoically, driving away even the slightest thought that she isn’t.

“Yes,” Ethan replied shortly, his voice hoarser then usually. “For now..”

“And...?”

“We don’t know...,” he cut Beckett off, knowing exactly what he wanted to ask. His fingers curling around the metal bar, squeezing it firmer, almost painfully, trying to punish himself for failing the woman he loved. His lips forming a thin line trying to push his feelings aside, but not succeeding in it. He felt how his throat tightened with emotions when he thought about how little time they were given together, thinking of how long and pointless he tried to resist her.

“Ethan...,” tried Beckett, watching how Ethan’s eyes became misty and his body started to shake almost falling apart in front of everyone. He felt how his own brain started to buzz, when he looked at the patient in front of him. The patient Diana insisted of taking because she believed in him... the patient those chest was already wide open.

“She will need you,” said Ethan finally able to put himself together, watching how conflicted emotions ran through young resident’s face. “She will want you there,” chocked he, while Beckett tried to steady his hand, cutting into patient’s ruined lung. A dark trickle of blood filled the cavity.

“Crap! Suction,” exclaimed Beckett, watching how his intern acted quickly before looking at him questioningly.

"Beckett ... are you okay down there?" Ines’s kind voice crackled through intercom, and he knew that it was pointless to deny what everyone already knew. The fact that he wasn’t okay clearly imprinted in his features, when he shook his head not trusting himself to speak. The usually rational voice inside his head now was silent, and he was so worried for Diana, that he was ready to run out of the operation room the second he knew that something was wrong.

“Yes... no... Dammit...,” finally said Beckett quietly cursing under his breath. His hand squeezed the scalpel firmer, trying to ignore the painful twist in his heart when he thought about Diana out there that probably was ighting for her own life, when he tried to safe someone else’s... failing her ones again. He could feel the guilt taking over him, but he could do nothing about that as nobody else in Edenbrook had any experience with this surgery except him and Dr. Tanaka. So no matter how much he wanted to be there for both Diana and Ethan, he couldn’t. And it was the hardest decision he ever made, and the one he probably will always regret of making.

“Do you want me to call Dr. Tanaka,” he heard the young resident to ask. He looked up, the conflict between the call of duty and his heart fighting each other. And for the first time in his life he didn't know what to do or how to respond to the simple question that was asked.

“It's his day off,” mumbled Beckett finally. His voice breaking slightly. “He can be anywhere... and I cannot just wait for him. If I will not keep going her body will go into shock. It can kill her, and...”

“Beckett...,” Ethan's voice interrupted him, the silent understanding passing between them. “I know you're desperate to see Diana, and she would want to see you. So please let us call him.”

After another moment of internal battle Beckett finally nod, giving his permission to call his superior colleague.

After the call was made and Ethan left the observation room he tried to focus on the woman's body in front of him. His hands were trembling slightly, but enough to be dangerous to the patient. The focus was slipping out of his reach. And the task that should be the easiest thing in the world now seemed the most difficult to do.

Usually he could just slip into the magical world where the scalpel in his hand and the patient in front of him were the only things that mattered, but today... today his mind was distracted. His thoughts stubbornly returning to Diana no matter how hard he tried to block them. And when it seemed that the battle was lost, he heard her soft voice inside his head. The voice that usually wasn't the one of reason, but the one who could calm him the best even when no one else could. He closed his eyes focusing on his best friend’s voice, feeling how the calm washed over him and his hand stoped trembling.

“Beckett, it will be okay. Just close your eyes, focus on nothing but the flow of air through your lungs... throught the nose... out through the mouth. Just focus on breathing... breathe in and hold... hold... breathe out...”

Her voice guided him softly till the operation room shrunk back down, leaving only him and his patient. Slowly he opened his eyes, feeling how his hands got steady again... feeling how he could breath again. He barely could hear Ines's voice, drown by the chatters that got louder. The panic from news spreading quickly through O.R., but Beckett not let it to distract him. Gritting his teeth, he hold on to Diana’s voice even harder, letting it guide him through the process like a guiding star in the sky.

Another forty five minutes passed. The ones that seemed like an hours. The ones that seemed to drag on and on without a breather, but hearing Diana’s voice inside his head helped. It grounded him, it kept him sane. Breath in... Breath out... cut... suction... remove... He worked through the process with ease as if this was nothing special, as if his mind wasn’t elsewhere. The air filling his lungs, his hands steadily working, feeling how the calm washed over him, not letting even a second of panic slip in and overwhelm him. By the time Dr. Tanaka entered the operation room, Beckett was already finished with removing the damaged lining with a tumour from the patient’s heart.

“Thank you for coming. I know this is your day off, and it was on such a short notice,” started Beckett, feeling how the relief washed over him at the sight of his older colleague.

"Dr. Harrington, Dr. Delarosa already told me everything. So if I can help you somehow it is the least I can do in this situation."

”But... thank you,” he forced, feeling how his throat squeezed with gratitude. “Let me just finish out this phase and then I will pass it over to you.”

Dr. Tanaka nodded watching as Beckett worked his way methodically around the heart, stitching the Gore-Tex together and anchoring it. And once again, these were the longest minutes in Beckett's life, while he felt around the heart, checking for gaps or tears in the fabric.

“She is okay,” breathed Beckett a sigh of relief, when he was finished. Still unable to believe that he was able to pull that off. He smiled under his mask, trying suppress the desire to roll his eyes when the voice inside his head rung louder.

I said you so. Diana's voice chirped. The way he knew Diana would say it with a cheerful glee in her voice. Because it was her... His best friend, who always believed in him. Who helped him believe in himself. The friend who never stopped believing in him. The friend who was fighting for her life, while he was saving another. The friend whom he failed ones again.

“Go. Be with your friend, I'll take it from here,” said Dr. Tanaka, as if knowing exactly what was going in his colleagues mind. Pulled from his thoughts Beckett nod in appreciation and without another word he was rushing toward the exit, peeling away his bloodied gown.

He was already on his way to the fifth floor, when he noticed Ethan leaning against the wall. His forehead pressed to his arm, and his chest heaving.

“Ethan,” Beckett called out, picking up the speed until he was almost running toward the man. “How is she?” he asked, startling the older attending from his thoughts. His face hardened and his posture straightened for just a millisecond, that it took him to recognise who it was in front of him. The moment he realised that it was Beckett his shoulders slumped and his features turned from the stoic mask to the one of the true anguish.

“She... She is holding...,” Ethan replied in a croaky voice. At first he even didn't realise that this hoarse, breaking, chocking sound belonged to him. Until he felt how his face muscles flexed with a great difficulty forming them. His eyes met Beckett's with a sigh half expecting to find a pity in them, but instead finding nothing but support and strength he needed.

He leaned against the wall feeling like he ran hundreds of miles alone, chasing the solution. His mind worked with doubled effort as a well build computer brushing aside one thought after another... one decision after another until none left. After all that’s left was a single thought... single fear that occupied him that they had lack of time. Immediately he felt how his body swayed slightly before he felt a steadying hand on his shoulder squeezing it reassuringly.

“She will be okay,” said Beckett. “We need to believe that she will be okay.”

“But...,” sighed Ethan.

“No buts,” Beckett said sternly cutting whatever Ethan wanted to say. “I'm not giving up on her and neither do you. Even if it will mean we will need to spend days in this hospital to figure out what it was in that canister and than the same amount of time finding a cure... We’ll do it. We have two brilliant minds this hospital ever seen and combining our efforts we will be able to find out what was in this thing and how to cure that. Di...,” he breathed, feeling how his voice shuddered, taking a steadying breath before speaking again. “Diana she is my best friend. She is my family. And I will do anything to make sure she will be okay. No matter how much time it takes.”

“Then... then let's do it,” Ethan said finally closing his eyes and taking several long, deep breaths to steady himself. Diana’s face floated in the dark of his mind, afraid but ready to fight as long as it takes. And for the first time he finally felt hope knowing that he isn’t alone in this. Knowing that Diana will fight, to make sure that the baby they are expecting will see the light. “I'll meet you outside Diana's room in twenty minutes.”

And with that Ethan turned around leaving Beckett alone. Knowing that with joint efforts of the best minds that this hospital have they will be able to make sure that the woman he loves more than anything will live or at least they will fight till the end together. And just like that the plan of actions was finally ready.

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#ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #beckett harrington #open heart

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