#and now again she didn’t take the shot and she’s probably waiting for the ther shoe to drop

[somewillwin]

The way caitlyn turned her fear of jinx into anger so she could keep moving…..

[allthatyoulove]

Butterflies and Flowers

Fred Weasley / Reader

Summary: You help a very drunk Fred Weasley to bed.

Includes: underage drinking/smoking, fluff,  suggestive/sexual situations (nothing explicit)

Words: 2.1k

A/N: This was a one shot I wrote that was requested by one of my friends :) Will probably do another one like this in the future, I really enjoyed writing it! Hope you enjoy the story! Feel free to leave any feedback and please let me know of any warnings or errors I missed! Thanks for stopping by :)

(Also: In my version of this story, the boys and girls dorms are still separated, but each person has their own room)

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It was 3 am.

On a school night.

Everyone else had left the gryffindor common room, with our group being left with all of the confetti, plastic cups, and streamers on the floor.

The music continued to play in the back with the group around the room. Hermione and Ginny were dancing in the middle of the room, with Ron sitting on the couch and dancing along with them from there, struggling to keep his eyes open. Harry was filling up his drink again before I spotted him and stole it from him, telling him he was cut off. He drunkenly smiled at me, before he stumbled over to Ginny and started to dance with her. He always complains the next day about a hangover, so I figured I’d help him out. Especially considering it’s a Thursday.

Fred and George were in the corner, smoking. Fred was already drunk out of his mind, so I giggled upon seeing him staring at a spot on the floor. George was moving his head to the music and singing along. The party had died down a couple hours ago, but our group always liked to stay a couple more hours by ourselves.

I had a few drinks earlier with everyone, but I stopped after my 5th shot. Fred… kept going. I decided I’d save the blackouts for the weekend.

I started to walk over to Fred, him raising his head to look up at me as I was halfway. He smiled at me, opening his arms as wide as they could go. I smiled back at him, laughing at how adorable he looked.

“Having a good time, Freddie?” I said, plopping myself on the couch between him and George and setting the cup on the table. I rested my hand on his knee as he wrapped his arms around me in a side hug, pulling me into him. I brought my other hand to rest on his arm that was around me, smiling to myself.

“The best.” He whispered in my ear, putting his head against mine. Butterflies stirred in my stomach, my body heating up.

Hermione came up to us with Ron behind her, both of them red in the face.

“W’re g’nna head off. See you guys t’morrow!” She said, waving to everyone before going up the stairs to the rooms. Everyone giggled to themselves before Harry came up to us as well.

“Right, well, Ginny and I are going also. See ya” He said, taking her hand and heading up after Hermione and Ron. Ginny giggled the entire way up, trying to push Harry up the stairs.

George was the first to speak up. “Do you think they know where the girls' dormitories are?”

Fred and I laughed, choosing to not reply and let him come to a conclusion himself. A couple seconds passed before he spoke again.

“Ohhh…… ew” he faked a full body shiver before he stood up, brushing himself off and looking around to make sure he didn’t forget anything.

“I’m going to see if Angelina needs to be tucked in, you kids be safe”

I blushed and laughed, slapping his arm as he walked by. He winked at me and left, leaving Fred and I alone.

He was still resting his head on mine, with his arms around mine. The music had been turned down, which I just came to realize.

I tapped his arm that was wrapped around me, moving to get up as he let out a groan next to me and mumbled something incoherent.

“C’mon Freddie, let’s get you to bed”

He smiled up at me as I stood, his hands holding onto mine as his smile turned into a smirk.

“Try’na get me to bed, are ya?”

I laughed and blushed, pulling his arms to help him get up.

“Yes Fred, I’ve just been dying to get you to bed. Now let’s go” I said in a monotone voice.

He gave a short laugh, standing up and wrapping his arms around my neck, looking down at me. We were standing between the table and the couch, extremely close.

“Hi” he whispered to me, touching my cheek with his knuckle lightly.

“Hi” I whispered back, giving him a short smile before clearing my throat and looking down. “Can you walk?” I asked him, trying to ignore the tension between us.

I didn’t want our first kiss to be while he’s plastered, I wanted it to be something he’d be able to remember. And something he’d be aware he’s doing.

“Can walk just fine.”

I could feel him staring down at me, so I chose to instead focus on wrapping my arms around his hips and helping him anyway because I knew he was lying about being able to walk.

He let out a low chuckle and kept his arm around my shoulder as I picked up the drink I set down earlier and chugged the rest of it, throwing it near a pile of other cups.

“Woah... maybe I should be the one walking you to your room, love” He said, placing a kiss on the crown of my head. He waited a beat before talking again, “Actually, that sounds like a great idea. Can we go over to your dorm instead?”

The butterflies in my stomach came back full force, warming my face and filling my brain with the thought of Fred in my dorm room.

“What’s wrong with your dorm? Wouldn’t want to miss George sneaking in at 5 am, would you?”

“Ther’s  like.... 4 horny teenagers over there. I don’t feel like trying to sleep in the room next to them”

I laughed lightly, tightening my hold on his waist and beginning to walk towards the stairs.

To the girls dormitories.

“Yay” He said, wiggling his hips a little bit and smiling. I laughed at him, guiding him up to the first step of the spiral staircase. He held onto the railing and stumbled a bit, but had surprisingly good balance for the amount that he drank.

He reached the top of the staircase and walked down the hallway to my exact room, throwing me off a bit. He turned to wait for me to open the door with a neutral expression on his face while I looked at him confused.

“How do you know this is my dorm?”

His eyes were closed, but his eyebrows raised and he pursed his lips as he thought of an excuse.

“Umm…. I…. I jus- I guessed.”

He opened one eye to look at me as I brought my eyebrows down in thought, pursing my lips as well.

“Right.” He smiled a this-is-my-best-excuse smile at me as we stared at each other in silence for a moment.

“Fred if you don’t tell me how you know this is my dorm y’aren’t going inside, bud”

He shot his hand up to his chest, pretending to be wounded at the use of “bud”, knowing I only use that when I want him to tell me the truth about something.

He laughed to himself about the gesture as I smiled, waiting for him. He waited a second before seeing I was serious and sighing.

“Okay, fine. Y’know those… flowers? That you got the other day?”

“...The ones with the secret admirer note?”

He winced and closed his eyes in embarrassment, leaning on the threshold of my door.

“Those would be it.”

My mouth fell open as I gave a short laugh in shock, staring at him.

He opened his eyes and laughed with me, taking my hand in his in a loose, but soft hold. I used my other hand to unlock and open the door between us.

“Go on in”

He smiled at me and kissed my forehead before he stumbled into the room, looking around at the posters on the walls as I closed and locked the door behind us. I turned around and watched him gawk at the posters, occasionally pointing at one and whispering “wicked” under his breath. I smiled at him and put my hands behind my back, just admiring him.

He eventually made his way around the room, walking back towards me in the middle. He stood right in front of me, as close as we were downstairs. He looked down at me with a soft smile. He brought his hands back up to my face, holding it softly as if he were to hold any tighter I’d break.

He slowly started to lean in, looking into my eyes as my own started to flutter close, waiting for him to kiss me. I felt his lips barely touching mine before he whispered.

“Did you like the flowers?”

I opened my eyes, staring at him to see him smirking down at me. I shoved him away playfully.

“Oh piss off Weasley”

“What? I want to know!”

I tossed my keys on my nightstand, sitting on my bed and taking off my shoes.

“They’re beautiful. They’re in the bathroom, so I can look at them as I’m getting ready” I said, motioning to the door that led to the restroom. He smiled at me, walking towards me again. He didn’t speak until he stood in front of me again, making me crane my neck to be able to look at him towering over me. He started to move forward, making me instinctively move back with him. He set his hands on the bed, on either side of me, and looked at me directly as he spoke softly, his gaze darting to my lips.

“I’m glad.”

I swallowed, not closing my eyes even as he moved closer. I thought he would do the same thing again, so I followed his lips until he gently kissed me. It was so quick, I thought I had imagined it for a second.

He pulled away and studied my reaction, searching my face. I looked at his eyes before looking back at his lips and going back in, my hands going to the back of his neck.

One of his hands went to rest on my hip, the other still on the bed behind me. He leaned into the kiss, making me lean back farther as he guided me farther onto the bed. He put his legs between mine as I scooted back, slowly climbing over me and onto the bed.

I used one hand to hold me up, the other staying at the nape of his neck, the tops of my fingers in his hair.

He was a really good kisser.

He leaned further, pushing me all the way onto my back as he never broke the kiss. He was leaning on his knees, his hands holding my face. He slowly broke away as my eyes fluttered open.

“I really really like you” He whispered, stroking my cheek with his thumb softly.

I smiled at him and put my hands on top of his that were on my face.

“I like you, too” I whispered back, looking between his eyes and his lips. He suddenly huffed out in irritation, and fell on top of me with an oof.

“I’m sorry, I’d like to go further, not saying you have to- it’s up to you, of course, but I’m so drunk, and I’d like to- I’m enjoying myself, of course, but-”

I laughed at his rambling before raising his face to meet mine, moving some hair out of his face and cutting him off.

“Fred.”

He stopped talking and grinned, “Yeah sorry I’m quite nervous”

I put my hands on his face, looking him in his eyes and trying to look serious.

“We’re not in any rush. I don’t want you to feel pressured. I really like you and I like kissing you, but we can kiss all day tomorrow. When you’re sober”

His grin grew as I talked, looking at me with admiration.

“Just kiss tomorrow, eh?”

I laughed at him, pushing his face away from me playfully as I moved to sit up.

“All right, you git- how about you focus on getting into bed without passing out first”

He pretended to think before he nodded against my hands and puckered his lips as a silent asking for a kiss. I kissed him and went to pull away, but he pulled me in again and stayed there for a while longer before pulling away. He kissed my forehead and patted my thigh a couple times.

“Scoot over”

I got underneath the blankets, moving to the other side of the bed and opening the blankets for him. He rolled underneath them, groaning the entire way through. I chuckled to myself as I turned around to click the lamp off, scooting so my back was to him. He wrapped his arm around me, taking my hands into his, laying them against my chest. I gave a soft kiss to his knuckles and wiggled a little more to get comfortable, suddenly feeling something against my back.

“Fred?”

“Just ignore it. And don’t move.”

[apexland]

Spared

Bloodhound x Reader 

Warnings! Swearing, Violence

Might be a few errors here and there, still need to go through it properly!

Preparing for the drop every legend had a different pre-game ritual that helped get them in the zone before the beginning of every match, some more questionable than others such as Octane who uses the time for gaming, completely strange but I think it would be more concerning to see him sitting still or the likes of Revenant who always disappears before the drop, Mirage always says he’s away skinning something or doing something murderous. Bloodhound though they have always been a scary legend to come face to face with in battles, before every match they sit sharpening the edge of axe that they always carried along with them. Bloodhound always kept their cards close, never giving much away and I think that was the scariest part, being unpredictable. At least with Dr. Caustic you knew he wanted to watch you die a slow and painful death within his toxic gas. 

My ritual before the drop was listening to music, eyes closed, I found it easier than talking to the people I was about to face off with in the arena - it made it easier to pull the trigger without hesitation. 

As I let out sigh I took out my ear buds, knowing from experience the exact time of the drop, opening my eyes I was met with the blank stare of Bloodhounds mask from across the room the slight red glare that stained the glass looking right back at me. 

I peeled my eyes away once the squads flashed up on the screen. “Race you to the LZ” Octane’s rang out from beside me as we stepped on the platform. I rolled my eyes at him.

“You know we don’t have to race if we are on the same team Silva” He was still jumping on the spot the sound of his legs clanking against the ground. 

“Where’s the fun in that amigo?” 

“Let’s break some circuits” Wattson giggled from the other side of me. “Man, I really need to get a phrase” I said, fixing the strap of my boot, before the floor began to open and we were lowered above the destroyed land of World’s Edge, a chaotic mix of the epicentre that lay thick with snow, the dome that was surrounded by deadly lava - making it all the more scarier to fight near it, one wrong move and you would be cooked.

Octane - the adrenaline junkie that he is decided that fragment west would be the best option. The most popular landing spots amongst old and new legends and the spectators favourite spot to see a quick bloodbath. But, luck was most defiantly not on my side today scouting two floors and still having no weapon was not ideal. 

“I need a weapon” I said over the comms, sighing at all of the ammo that was one the floor but no gun.

“There’s a Mozambique here” Wattson’s voice came back over the comms.

“Hey! Isn’t that Chey’s line” Octane laughed. I picked up a few more syringes and cells before letting out a sigh followed by a quiet ‘dibs’. It was a good gun but nothing compared the dominant R-99 or the Volt, which judging by my luck the enemies would already be kitted with.

We moved to another building but it was long before the sound of footsteps sounded around us. “We’ve got friends here” I said quietly, a glimmer of luck started to appear when I found a hemlock of the lack of heavy ammo was disappointing. 

Wattson had put up her fences, the loud sound of the burning electricity warned the enemies off slightly. I peaked through one of the barred windows, spotting wraith who was focused on another door of our building I took the shot but she was quick to phase away. 

“Careful Horizon’s probably going to throw her ultimate over here” I warned my squad mates but Wattson quickly replied “I’ll take care of that”

“Wattson now!” I shouted as I seen newt being thrown towards us along with the deadly gas of caustic but luckily the pylon zapped them both down.

“Let’s go!” Octane yelled as he jammed the syringe into his leg before speeding off and we quickly followed, “Watch for traps Silva” I said, trying to catch up with him. I spotted Wraith trying to portal them out of the building, taking it back as she got the warning in her head. I quickly placed down on of my spike traps, pressure sensitive that once stepped on will send a deadly spike usually through the leg disabling the legend, which is exactly what it had down to Caustic as he was the next one to appear through the rift. 

Quickly taking him out, not giving him a chance to put down one of his traps as he muttered a ‘damn you’. Focusing back on the other two, Octane was already pushing to the building along with Wattson and taking care of the rest of the squad.

Finally getting better loot, I started feeling more positive about the match until the sound of Bloodhounds scan and us being in range. “Shit” I whispered. “We need to move now!” 

We scrambled back into the building, but Wattson had been took down by a triple take, I looked behind be to see the same stained red glass looking back at me as Bloodhound lifted their head from the scope of the sniper.

Quickly getting to work by putting down traps at the doors, taking a peak out of the barred window I quickly ducked back down as a bullet skimmed past my ear from the same gun that took Wattson out. I felt the blood from where the bullet grazed but my attention was diverted by the door across from me opening and then scream from Loba as the spike was deep in her leg, taking my chance I used the mastiff that I picked up from the other team to quickly end things. 

One down, two to go. 

“Careful Silva, Bloodhound has a triple take” 

Rampart was the next of their squad to reveal herself as I heard the distant sound of a barrier being placed up along with Sheila’s red laser scanning the walls ready to shred someone apart. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me” I groaned, just as another one of Bloodhound’s scan revealed us yet again. 

“Can you distract them Silva?” Pulling out one of my most deadly traps, once it hit the ground it sends out a wave of spikes that usually without fail impales the enemy long enough for them to need to heal and just the perfect amount of time for me to take them amount.

There was silence from Silva before I seen the green flash of him flying across the other building from his jump pad, that must be the distraction. I quickly snuck out of the building as I heard them both firing at the adrenaline junkie, quickly pulling the pin of the trap with my teeth, I tossed it in the middle of the pair. Octane had went down because of being lasered with Sheila. Getting closer I finished off Rampart, but as I was about to search for Bloodhound, they found me. 

The scary roar of his beast of the hunt sounded out.

Shit

Making a run for it, I didn’t get very far before a bullet got me right in the stomach, wheezing out for air at the sudden impact. Pulling myself up, my back leaning against the wall, the hunter came closer just like a predator stalking their prey. 

They bend down in front of me but as I waited for them to put me out of my misery I felt a hand caress my cheek, confusion washed over me. The hand moved to ghost over the tried blood that had trailed down the side of area and followed the trail on to my neck, goose bumps appearing after every touch. “You fought well, felagi fighter” My heart was thumping, they were so close it was almost making me forget that I was basically bleeding out, which I eventually did but the comfort from the hound made it less painful. 

_____________________________

Waking up in the respawn chambers up, I sat up with haste but immediately feeling the pain in my abdomen which made all of the events from the match flood back to me. Did I imagine it? Did it really happen?”

Then it came to me.

Making my way to the control room, where the cameras got all the footage the process of editing and making sure it’s ready to be aired to the spectators. I knocked on the door waiting for a response before the door flew open. 

“Hey Ezekiel, can you get me my body camera footage from the last match” He looked at me with a tilt of his head”

“Sur- is everything ok?” He asked, looking at me with concern. 

“Yeah, I just missed a few shots and want to review the footage in training” He nodded before turning around and handing me a USB.

“Thank you, appreciate it”

Taking the drive and heading to my room before plugging it in and clicking on the file with my name labelled on it. Skipping all of the footage until I got to the last fight. It did happen and I didn’t imagine it, I closed the screen of the laptop before biting my nail trying to think of what I should do.

Was I overthinking everything? But they didn’t kill me. They should have, like they had done to both of squad mates.

“Hey Anita, have you seen Bloodhound?” The solider was sat down with one of the weapon manuals that was lying around the communal area, building on her already extensive knowledge of every weapon to ever be created.

“Last time I seen them was in the training yard” I gave a quick nod. “Thanks, Anita”

“You’re welcome FNG” Pausing as I looked at her. “I’m not the new one anymore, you said you’d stop calling me that” 

She shrugged at me “It took you long enough to figure out what it meant, you think I am just going to let that go”

 I rolled my eyes at her mumbling ‘funny’, followed by a laugh from Anita “You’re right it is” She always loved when people didn’t follow her military talk, it meant she could basically speak in her own language without anyone knowing it was meant to make fun of them. 

Making my way to the training yard I pushed the door open, there was few other legends training but everyone usually kept well spaced apart because nobody wanted to get dropped in the training yard, that would be embarrassing. 

I spotted the tall frame of the hound, they were on one the last rows.  

Stopping behind them as the Raven’s bite axe flew to the target landing right on the dummy’s heart, I swallowed. Quickly putting my fear aside before I looked like an idiot just standing ther-

“How can I assist you?” Their voice rang out. Of course Bloodhound already new I was here, walking to the target they collected their axe finally looking at me as they walked back to their original standing position. 

“Ah- I just wanted to ask you something” I said, trying to look anywhere but at the intense gaze that was starting back at me. They nodded, giving me the go ahead to continue.

“Why didn’t you kill me” I asked 

“Did you want me to kill you?” They asked, sounding almost puzzled. I let out a sigh “No- I don’t mean it like tha-” I stopped myself, feeling like an idiot I should have just left it alone. 

Bloodhound tilted their head “You know, never mind- it doesn’t matter” but as I was about to walk off i felt a hand on my wrist, stopping me suddenly. “If it is bothering you, tell me” Bloodhound came closer, the close proximity throwing me off once again.

“Like you did with Wattson and Octane” I paused for a second trying to ignore how close they were to me and gather my thoughts “You took them right out, with no mercy- but you waited with me”

“I didn’t want you to suffer” They spoke, the hand came up to push my hair behind my ear, revealing the small stitches on the top of my ear caused from the triple take bullet. The same movement had that they had done in the match brought back the same feelings, causing me to hold my breathe trying to keep my composure. 

Their hand moved to my stomach grazing over the same area of where they had shot me. “The same reason I shot you here, because it would only wind you and the pain would be minimal” 

The touch sent Goosebumps all over my body, my heart hammering in my ears as I looked up at Bloodhound. “Why” I whispered, both of us lost in the moment because we had managed to get even closer barely any space between our bodies.

“You are special, the Allfather has blessed me with you” Their thumb tracing over my bottom lip then falling to my jaw tracing the few dotted cuts on it slowly, “that is why I could not kill you”

[disasterfandoms]

This is Your Home Now ~ The Ryders x teen!reader imagine

@atjafshelby​ requested: “Okay so I was thinking maybe a teenage reader who was like Judd as a child, gets in trouble and needs help and stuff. But maybe she lives on her own so Grace and Judd take her in and try to help her? No rush though, thank you!!❤️”

A/N: I appreciate you sending me a complex ask. I’ll be honest, I had no idea how i was going to write this one when I first saw it. I tweaked it a tiny bit, and instead of being on their own the reader is in a group home. This may be part 1 if anyone is interested in part 2?

TW: foster care, mentions of violence, mentions of therapy.

Your POV:

Sitting in the principal’s office, you began to take in the various lame quotes around the room. “You miss 100% of the chances you don’t take” sure, whatever.

“You have to look through the rain to see the rainbow” this has to be the worst one of all. What rainbow? and why go through hell to be able to see a prism of light in the sky?

The door shuts loudly, pulling you from your thoughts. You roll your eyes when you see your social worker walking in with the principal.

“So, Y/N, you’ve been getting into more fights recently, including earlier today when you struck another student in the face for saying something about your family,” your principal read from the file, then looked up at you, “Anything you’d like to say for yourself?”

”yeah, they deserved it,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him again. Everyone here should know by now the topic of your parents is off limits, especially what he said about them. 

“Just because someone says something you don’t like doesn’t mean you can assault them.” Your social worker scolded, probably hating her life for having to deal with you. 

They went on lecturing you for another 20 minutes, but at that point you zoned out, focusing on the view out the window behind your principal. It was sunny outside, the trees on the outskirts of school grounds blowing slightly with the wind. You could see people walking out there, and instantly wanted to be anywhere but here, supposedly listening to how you’re a screw-up and if you “don’t get your act together” you’ll “never have a future.”

“Y/n, what do you think about the compromise?”

You snapped your head to the principal, trying to figure out what all you missed in the last few minutes so you could figure out to answer appropriately. You studied his face, before deciding agreeing would be the quickest road. How wrong you were, you wouldn’t have the faintest idea until an hour later.

“Sounds good to me, as long as I can go back to class. Ms. Neal is teaching about the wage gap and I want to see conservative boys lose their ever-loving mind.” you smiled, hoping they buy it for now. They both nod their heads, then you stand up to leave. 

“I’ll see you after school, Y/N,” your social worker spoke confidently, seemingly proud of herself for her part in the supposed compromise. With that, you left the two adults to work out the details amongst themselves.

Going to Ms. Neal’s class quickly, you started to wonder what you agreed to. It had to be something significant if you weren’t getting in trouble for giving the star of the baseball team a black eye, which he deserved, by the way. 

Class went by as a blur, your attention focusing in and out on class, except when it came time to debate your stance on the issue of the class. You loved to argue, especially with privileged, snotty teens who don’t know how well they had it. You were good at it too, you could be a lawyer if you had any shot of a successful life.

Sooner than you’d like, class was over, and you started to get up and leave. You were too occupied with making sure you had everything that you didn’t realize you were making a beeline into your social worker.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!”

“Hey, watch it!” You both say simultaneously, backing up and looking at who ran into you.

“Oh, there you are Y/N! Come on, I’m driving you back to the home to pack up your things” She signaled with her hand to come with her, and you obliged, confused.

“Pack my things? Why?” You asked while walking to your car. You know you’ve been in trouble recently, but being kicked out of the group home seemed a little extreme.

“Did you listen to the compromise at all when were talking about it? Before you agreed to it?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

“Not really, just figured agreeing would get me in the least trouble,” you replied, and you could see her smile a little as she shook her head at you.

“This last fight isn’t going on your permanent record, as long as you get anger management classes, and move out of the group home and into a foster situation with two loving people who know how to handle situations like yours,” 

“Crap, I really should listen more.” You sighed and leaned your head on the window. You didn’t see how moving you out of the group home would help at all, it’s more change and more adjustment, and you were tired of both.

“Want to know about the couple?” You social worker asked you, but you barely heard her. You shook your head and put a headphone in, hoping this wasn’t a mistake.

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Judd’s POV:

“Are we sure about this, Gracie?” Judd asks, pacing between the living room and the kitchen, pausing every now and then to look at his wife. He stopped, turned to her, and rubbed his face before putting both hands behind his head, cradling it as he thinks about everything that could go wrong with this.

He knew they both wanted kids, and adoption seemed to be their only hope due to ther infertility troubles. But still, he argued to himself, a teenager? With this kid’s anger management issues, stubbornness, and troubled past, this isn’t what he necessarily had in mind.

“Yes, Judd, we’re sure. This kid needs our help, and a stable home to thrive. I understand you’re nervous, I am too, but we’ve been doing our research and interviewing with child protective services for months, and now they’re gracing us with a child that needs us.” Grace had walked over to him at this point, and taken his hands into hers. He looked into those beautiful, rust colored eyes of hers and took a deep breath. He knew she was right, she usually is, but he was still nervous.

He wrapped his arms around her, leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. “I love you,” he whispered. She looked up at him, grabbed the nape of his neck, and kissed him lovingly. After a few seconds, she broke away, and whispered, “I love you too, handsome.”

Before anything could further along, the doorbell rang. The two looked at each other, took a deep breath, and walked to the door. Grace opened the door, and they both saw the social worker, Malia, with a teenager that looked less than happy to be on their doorstep.

Judd quickly scanned the teen, noticing the frown on their face and the bruised knuckles they were sporting on their right hand. They had a suitcase in the other hand, and looked short in stature. Everyone looks short to Judd, though. 

“Hi Malia, Y/N, please come in.” Grace states, welcoming their guest and their now-forster child into their home. Once the social worker guided Y/N in, the pair sat on the couch while Judd and Grace sat on the other, clasping their hands together and looking at the child who’ll be staying with them, being nurtured by them, for next couple years.

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Your POV:

The house is nice, you thought to yourself as you sit on the couch, waiting for someone to speak to you. You look at them, whose names you aren’t aware of yet, and study their features. The man was tall, and you can tell he’s been working for a while due to his build and the scratches and burns on his hands. The woman is much smaller, and seems softer, but you can tell they love each other just by the way they can’t keep their hands off each other.

“Judd, Grace, this is Y/N. Now, I know the department have given you their file, but do you have any questions about their history, or anything I can answer?” Malia asked, putting her hands in her lap. At least you know their names now, you thought to yourself.

“I don’t think so, ma’am. You’re welcome to stay for supper, though. Y?N, is there any allergies or diet restrictions we need to know about?” The woman, Grace, you remind yourself, asks. She smiles at you as she asks, and she has a pretty smile. You start to wonder why they wanted to take in someone like you.

“No ma’am, thank you for asking though. Can one of y’all show me to my room, though? I’d like to unpack and start on homework before supper.” You try to be polite, not knowing who they are once the social worker. Better to be safe than sorry, right?

“Of course, I’ll show you up there, and let you get settled.” Judd offers, standing up to guide you to where you’ll sleep.

You go up the stairs, and are impressed by what you see. This is better than the group home, at the very least. You head down the corridor he’s taking you through, and walk into a moderately sized room that had a full-sized bed, two nightstands, a dresser, closet, desk with a chair, and a door to what you assume is a bathroom.

“Take all the time you need to settle in. This weekend we’ll all go shopping and you can buy decorations for your room. Once supper is ready, we’ll call you downstairs to eat, get to know each other better. Alright?” He asked, looking as if he expected you to answer. You quickly nodded, and got to putting away your things and taking in the space. Maybe you actually belong here.

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

Once supper was ready, you were called down, you stumbled down the kitchen, washed your hands, and then took a seat at the table. Malia had left, hopefully to bother another kid and leave you alone, and you sat there quietly, eating the dinner they prepared.

“So, Y/N, is there any hobbies you enjoy? Anything we can look into getting you, like an easel or a video game?” Grace asks, making conversation.

“Why do you care? It’s not like I’m your kid,” You rolled your eyes, then looked down and played with your food. You wouldn’t let yourself get attached to the idea of having people truly care about you, especially not now.

“Hey, you-” Judd started to raise his voice, but Grace cut him off with holding her index finger up to him, then spoke.

“Y/N, I know this is all too new for you still. You don’t know us, you do not know our intentions, and you’re past makes it especially hard for you to believe anyone would love you and care for you. But, and I mean this, this is your home now, Y/N, and we will not abandon you, no matter the obstacles ahead,” she paused, and looked to her husband. Judd nodded, and took a deep breath.

“Y/N, I was just like you when I was your age. I was going through somethin’, and it left me violent and not knowing who to trust. We want you here so we can help you through the hurt you’ve been through, and make you into the young adult we can already see inside you. We have two rules, don’t disrespect us, and be honest with us. Got it?”

“Got it,” you spoke quietly. The rest of the dinner was quiet, and afterwards you went upstairs to your room, lying on the bed, thinking about how this is going to be good for you. Maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.

[is-it-madness]

Metal Fingers

A/N 1: This fic is for my lovely beta/bestie @wowjeena Heyyo, would you be up to writing a soulmate au with Bucky? You can choose which type of soulmate au but can you make the reader a normal person (so not an Avenger or anything related)?? Thanks girl and if you don’t wanna that’s chill 👉🏼👉🏼 So... it’s not exactly a soulmate au, but I hope this is okay instead ☺️💜💜 I’m also so sorry it took so long. I hope you like it, my dear.

A/N 2: The Bucky Barnes Exhibit states he was born in 1916, but at the bottom where it gives his life span, it says he was born in 1917. I googled it to find the correct year, and it said 1917… I don’t know what to do with that information, other than to tell you guys there’s a mistake in the movie. 

A/N 3: I apparently couldn’t make this a one shot, so it’ll be a multi part story. I’m aiming between 3-5 parts

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x single mom!reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.5k+

~~~

Part 1

A Fallen Comrade.

James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes

Born in 1916, Barnes grew up the oldest child of four. An excellent athlete who also excelled in the classroom. Barnes enlisted in the Army shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor. After winter training at Camp McCoy, Wisconsin, Barnes and the rest of the 107th shipped out to the Italian front. Captured by Hydra troops later that fall, Barnes endured long periods of isolation, deprivation and torture. But his will was strong. In an ironic twist of fate, his prison camp was liberated by none other than his childhood friend, Steve Rogers, now Captain America.

Reunited, Barnes and Rogers led Captain America’s newly formed unit, The Howling Commandos. Barnes’ marksmanship was invaluable as Rogers and his team destroyed Hydra bases and disrupted Nazi troop movements throughout the European Theater.

He knew these words. He read and reread them dozens— if not hundreds— of times. He wrote them down in every one of his notebooks as he was scrapping, searching for his memories that were just out of his reach. He could nearly taste them. They fluttered teasingly in front of him: close, but not close enough for him to snatch out of the air of uncertainty. 

He pulled a fresh notebook from his bag and a pencil, worried away from teeth and words. 

Start with what you know…

My name is James Buchanan Barnes. I was taken captive by Hydra and was used by them. I know a man named Steve. He was my friend.  

He trailed off. This is where he always was left floating in a sea of not knowing. He was left grasping for more. He was a starved man, empty without his memories. The few he managed to uncover did little to tide him over from insanity. He bit at that familiar indentation on his pencil, trying to think of something, anything at this point that was more than those four simple sentences he’s written everyday for the past several weeks. Sighing and pulling his baseball cap lower in frustration, Bucky returned his supplies to his bag, stood, and swung it over his right shoulder. Eyes low, and clutching his bag, Bucky made his way towards the exit of the crowded museum. Ever since the Potomac, this section of the Smithsonian was more packed than usual.

Nearly there. Nearly there. 

It was an understatement to say that Bucky Barnes didn’t like crowded areas. Too many bodies, pressing, and pushing against each other, loud noises, pointless conversations discussing mundane things. 

Nearly there. Nearly ther—

“Oof!”

He wouldn’t have noticed the boy that ran into him if his bag hadn’t slipped from his hand, spilling out the contents onto the floor. Bucky hurriedly crouched to retrieve his precious memories. He barely registers the boy picking up the items that had strayed a bit further. 

“Here you go Mister! I’m sorry for bumping into you like that.”

Bucky silently takes his belongings back from the little boy standing in front of him. 

Bucky unintentionally begins to analyze him.

Probably seven or eight. Bright eyes. Tousled hair. Skinny. Doesn’t clear 100 pounds soaking.

He shakes his head. Stop. No more. 

“Whoa, cool! Metal fingers!!”

Bucky quickly retracts his fingerless-gloved hand.

The boy pulls his hand from his sweatshirt pocket. “Yours are cooler, but I have metal fingers too! Well, actually it’s a metal arm because the doctors had to get rid of my real one because I got hurt super bad, but I think it’s really cool.”

The boy said this all extremely fast, Bucky had to blink a few times to register what he had said. A compliment? For his hand? A hand that’s maimed, killed, and caused so many people to suffer?

“Uh… I… I have a metal arm too.”

The little boy’s eyes widened even more. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but Bucky took off his glove and showed it to the boy.

He took Bucky’s hand in his and stared at it, looking back and forth at Bucky’s hand and his. Bucky stood there stiffly, unsure how to respond. The boy looked up at Bucky solemnly.

“Do you have super powers?” he whispered. 

Bucky couldn’t help but crack a smile at his seriousness, but before he could answer, a woman came running through the crowd.

“Noah!”

The boy turned to give her a lopsided grin. “Hi Mom!”

“How many times have I told you to stay by my side, young man?”

The boy, Noah, dropped Bucky’s hand and took a step closer to the woman. “Sorry. But Mom!”

A raised brow silenced Noah. The woman looked up at Bucky.

“I’m so sorry if he was bothering you. He’s very social.”

Bucky forgot how to speak for a minute. The woman standing in front of him was… well, he’d never seen anyone as beautiful as her. Bright, sparkling eyes confirming where Noah got his from, a soft voice, and a sweet smile.

“Oh, uh, no. I mean, he is. I mean‒” When was the last time he had gotten tongue-tied?

Bucky cleared his throat, forced himself to try to ignore the sweet smile that was widening, and tried again. “He wasn’t bothering me. We were just talking about‒”

“His metal arm! Look at it, Mom!” Noah hurries back to Bucky’s side and holds his mechanical hand. “Look how awesome it is! And it’s huge!” He started poking Bucky’s upper arm and gasps. “And so are his muscles!! I bet he could crush anything!”

Noah began miming picking up heavy objects or crushing imaginary things, complete with sound effects. Bucky doesn’t miss Noah’s mother’s eyes widen slightly when Noah pointed out how massive his biceps are.

“Noah, honey, why don’t we go check out the exhibit?”

“Oh yeah! Let’s go, Mom!” He nearly takes off again before giving his mother a sheepish smile.

“What did you do?”

“I… I turned our map into a paper airplane.”

“And?”

“And... it… flew out of my hands?”

“Mm hmm. I see. Well, I guess we’ll just have to come back another time.”

Noah gasps and clutches his mom’s hand. “No! Please Mom! Don’t do this to me!!”

Her laugh causes Bucky’s heart to skip a few beats, and it frustrates him that he doesn’t know why.

“Which exhibit are you looking for?”

Noah looks at Bucky and salutes. “We’re here to see the Mister Captain America exhibit.”

“I could take you guys there.”

What. On earth. Gave him that idea?!

“Woo! Let’s‒”

Noah’s cheer was cut off by his mother. “Oh, no that’s okay. I’m sure you’re busy and you probably have something to get to you.”

She’s right… Why did I even offer in the first place? I can’t‒

“It’s not a problem. I was heading over there right now actually.” 

Jesus! What’s wrong with me?

Noah grabbed his mother’s hand and followed Bucky to the famed exhibit.

~~~

“So, I take it Noah’s a fan of the Captain?”

The beautiful lady standing next to him nodded. “Yeah, Noah loves him; really looks up to him.”

“Makes sense, he’s a good guy.”

“Sounds like you’ve met him before.”

“You could say that.”

They were pulled away from their conversation when Noah ran up to them, grinning.

“Mom! Look how skinny Steve was! And, and his friend? Um… Bucky? Yeah! Bucky! He would always help Steve out because Steve would always get in fights! So Bucky would come and have to save him!” 

Noah then proceeded to animatedly tell his audience how Steve became the Captain and fought in the War. When he went to go read the display in front of Steve’s motorcycle, Bucky turned back to the woman.

“Is this his first time here?”

She nodded and smiled. “I promised I would take him when I had a day off. He’s been waiting for weeks.”

A pause.

“How ‘bout you?”

“What?” Damn that smile! He got distracted.

“I take it this isn’t your first time here?”

“No, ma’am.”

Her giggle caused his firm expression to slip into a small smile.

Bucky spent the rest of the afternoon showing Noah around. He learned that Noah and his mother had been in a terrible car accident two years before. The injuries Noah sustained to his right arm were irreversible, thus leading to an amputation, a prosthetic arm, and even though she didn’t say, expensive medical bills burdened on his mother.

When the museum closed, Noah was asking his mother when they’d be able to return.

“I’m not sure baby. How about next weekend?”

Noah did a little dance showing his affirmation. Then he looked at Bucky.

“Will you be here too, Mr. James?”

“Uh, yeah sure kid. I’ll be here.”

Noah fist pumped as his mother said goodbye to Bucky.

~~~

Holy shit. Holy shit! 

You had been trying to keep your cool ever since you found Noah with James. You were eating dinner and you still hadn’t gotten over him. That man was fucking stunning. Blue, blue eyes that were filled with such sorrow, a smile that made your insides flutter, and a deep voice you were willing to listen to for hours on end. Soft and sonorous. And he was so sweet and kind with Noah. That alone had you taking a liking to him.

“Mom?! Mom!”

“Oh— sorry, baby. What’s wrong?”

“Thanks for taking me to the museum.”

You ruffle his hair. “Thanks for being so patient for me.”

He smiles as he shovels pasta into his mouth. 

~~~

My Ride or Die:

@lehuka123 @thejournalman @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere @rebloggingeverything @just-the-hiddles @confetti-its-an-imagine-blog @thehumanistsdiary @fanfictionaries @astheworlddturns @bbarnestan @buckyfan12

[kerie-prince]

We're Worlds Apart (6)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj!reader

series m.list | general m.list | previous chp

warnings: language, smoking (cigarettes), mentions of sexual activity (but no actual scenes), Blaise (you know what i mean <3)

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

a/n: would y'all be interested if i added a smut chapter? also fun fact! the little date bit where y/n thinks about her worst date is based on my real life experience. only we didn't go to mcdonald's, we went to in-n-out. and it was terrible

(gif cred)

Blaise Zabini.

This man was the walking definition of lust. Flirtatious, smooth, and most definitely a womanizer. He didn’t hide it in his actions and you didn’t care. He could break your heart and have you crying for weeks, but man, if he wasn’t gorgeous.

Blaise Zabini looked as if he was carefully molded by Aphrodite. A man almost too beautiful for the world, and you’re going on a date with him. He nearly knocked the air out of your lungs when he asked to take you out to the fanciest, most expensive restaurant in Buffalo. And who were you to say no?

The whole window incident was completely forgotten. He could see more if he’d like— “Hey Y/N?” Your employee brought you out of your thoughts. A soft blush was on your face as you tried to act like you weren’t thinking of your neighbors’ friend. “Uh, yeah, what’s up?”

“Did you want me to put the crystal beads in the front? They’ve been really popular today.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You had a few more hours of your day left before going back home. You had called over two of your best friends to catch up and help you pick out an outfit for your date that coming Saturday. It was currently Thursday, but in case nothing in your closet was good enough, you’d at least have some time to go shopping with them. Which was probably going to happen anyway.

It was a really good day; it got really busy with customers and the usual nuisance was gone today. But no matter how busy it was, you still felt like time was passing by slowly. In all honesty, what you really wanted was to be able to see Blaise today even if it was for just a minute, just to say hi.

Your last date was six months ago and, well. If it went well, you wouldn’t be attending the date you were going to later on the weekend. It was a horrifying date; he took you to a fucking McDonalds on the first (and last) date, only paid for his own meal, and made weird sexual innuendos nearly the whole time. And the worst bit was that even though it was a terrible date, you decided to give him another shot by texting him saying that you’d like to go to another date and he never texted you back.

Blaise was only going to be around for a month, you know this. And you kinda felt bad for taking some of his time away from his best friend whom he was visiting for, but he asked you out. So, if he’s alright with it you should be, too.

After the store closed, you stayed an extra hour just to make sure everything was cleaned up and ready for tomorrow. As much as you were in a rush, you hated clutter and didn’t want to have to wake up earlier to clean. Most likely, your friends were gonna want to drink a little. Traffic home wasn't great, but once you got home you got exactly what you asked for.

Outside, Blaise stood against a wall smoking a cigarette on Draco’s porch. God, even the way he stands is hot you thought. He saw you pull in your driveway and put out the last of the bud onto the ashtray. Blaise made his way to you and your heart was beating hard. “Good evening, gorgeous,” he said in that mesmerizing British accent. I’d kill to hear that voice in the morning.

“Hello,” you sighed in contentment. He was about to say something before your friends pulled up next to your car. Internally, you groaned. You just had to hope they wouldn't say anything to embarrass you. Without taking the chance, you started thinking of a reason to excuse him back to Draco’s house but it was too late as your friends were already rushing to your side. Act normal, act normal, act normal—

“Hey Y/N, who's this?” Miranda probed. Her voice was suggestive and you caught how she looked Blaise up and down. Bianca, the shyest of the three stood aside and waved at him.

“Blaise, these are my best friends Miranda and Bianca,” your hands gestured to the girls by your side. “Guys, this is Blaise.”

He took their hands and kissed the top of them. “Well, you ladies have a goodnight. I’ll see you later, Y/N.” He winked at you before he left.

Miranda let out a sigh before she spoke, “God, you’re so lucky.” She started heading into your house and pulled out a bottle of wine from her purse. Yeah. I am.

—

Draco has no idea what he walked into.

Santa Marie’s was absolute chaos. There was nearly a horde of injured wizards and witches that he and his team had to help. People filled the waiting room and beds were constantly being changed for the next patient.

The worst bit of it was that no one had any memory as to what happened. “This is a really strong memory charm. Not as bad as how Lockhart was left, though. Any idea who could’ve done this?” Draco worked as he healed one person after the next. He’s been running around with Ian at his side.

“Not really. This is the first time I’ve ever seen anything like this. Hell, this is probably the first time anything like this ever happened at Santa Marie’s,” Ian pondered. It was true. Something like this hasn’t been seen in this hospital. But Draco wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing about it. He became Head Healer at Santa Marie’s for a reason and he was going to prove he deserves this position.

When he found a few minutes to himself, he called his landline at home to let Blaise and Theo know that he might not come home for the night. Theo was the one to answer the call and offered to take Draco some clothes if need be, but Draco already had a bag in his office just in case something kept him there. Guess today’s that day.

“Are you by yourself?” Draco asked.

“Yeah, Blaise left about twenty minutes ago,” Theo confirmed.

“Where’d he run off to? Not like he has other friends around,” Draco chuckled. He used the time to eat a sandwich from the cafeteria vending machine. Wasn't as filling, but he figured it’ll do for now until he would be able to eat an actual meal.

“Don’t you remember? Blaise got his date with… what’s her name again? The muggle, witch one, fuck if I know,” Theo said. That’s today? Draco had forgotten all about it. Of course, if he had remembered, he’d probably be distracted from his work today. Wait, why?

Theo regained his attention by calling his name multiple times thinking Draco had just hung up. “I’ll call you later. Still got loads of work to be done.”

“Hey, do you think they’ll do it-” Draco cut the call off before he could listen to the end of that sentence. Last thing he wanted on his mind while he worked was Blaise doing… things with you. It wasn’t because he liked you. You’re his neighbor and things could get pretty weird. It took months just to get along and have one engaging conversation.

And honestly, Draco still didn't like how you were a Wiccan. He may not understand what exactly it means, but it didn't matter. What would even happen if for some reason, Blaise actually showed you what real magic looks like? That was what really concerned Draco. Showing a muggle magic. He didn't know what those laws were like under the Magical Congress, but under the Ministry it was only allowed to show muggles magic and the wizarding world if it had the promise of marriage or you were a mudbl— muggleborn.

And Draco knew Blaise. His longest committed relationship was probably three months, so marriage is a definite no. Draco didn't know why he was even worried about it, it's just one bloody date. He figured that America made him soft as he stood ther overthinking about literally nothing. He was so immersed in his thoughts that he almost didn't feel Ashley flick his forehead. “Ow! That hurt!”

“I’d be worried if it didn't. You were standing there like a damn zombie. You ready to get back out there?” Ashley sassed. Draco scarfed the last of his sandwich and followed Ashley back to the emergency room. Ugh, I want this day to end.

—

It was the best date you ever had. You weren't in love or anything, but you were definitely tired out. The dinner was amazing and the conversations were engaging and interesting. But it's the events after the dinner that you remember.

Unlike boyfriends and girlfriends before, Blaise took his time with you. Slow, sensual and just perfect. It was quite suspicious, actually. What man is this perfect? There's something up. Weird foot fetish, secret Star Wars nerd. Or worse. Star Trek you thought.

Two days after the date, your best friends drove straight to your house after a single text was sent. There was no way Miranda and Bianca were going to read about the details on a phone screen, no. They wanted to hear the explicit details with their own ears.

“He did what?” Miranda nearly choked on the wine. There was a certain confidence in your aura. You slept with a man hand crafted by the gods and it was the best time of your life.

Bianca sat bashfully listening to your story, but she leaned forward to hear you better. “Little trashy for a first date, but who the hell cares? Ten out of ten, would definitely do again.” You smirked at the end of your corny joke. Your friends looked at each other and rolled their eyes. “Alright, we get it. What now, though? He's only here for a month. What's gonna happen now?” Miranda questioned.

“Dunno. But for now, I'm just having fun. At first, I thought it'd be weird since his friend isn't the most pleasant to live next to, but Blaise is different.” You could only assume they were different, but considering you were getting along way better you figured it was safe to assume they were.

“What does your neighbor even look like? I haven't seen him anywhere,” Bianca noticed. Now that you realize, you haven't seen your brooding neighbor in a couple days. Not that you cared. “Actually, I don't know. Work, probably,” you shrugged your shoulders as you brought your wine glass to your lips.

“Where does he work?” Miranda asked.

“In the emergency room at a hospital,” you answered.

“Oh. You know where?” Miranda kept at it. “No, we don't really talk much. Took me nearly six months to even find out that he even talks, let alone what he does for a living.” Just as you were about to take another sip, a certain black car was pulling up.

From afar, you could see the dark circles extremely prominent under Draco’s eyes and noticed him wearing the same clothes he left the house in a couple days ago. You actually pitied him, but admired him at the same time.

Being a doctor is no easy task, and here was one across the yard working day and night to help people. “Is that him?” Bianca noticed him from out the window. You nodded in response and took another sip of wine.

“I'm moving to England. There's no way that they have this many attractive men. Watch me pledge allegiance to the Queen, I don't care,” Miranda rambled. You laughed at her in response. “You said there's another person visiting him?”

“Yeah, why?” you quirked an eyebrow. “What does he look like?” Miranda looked at you with wide, hopeful eyes. You shrugged your shoulders, “Haven't seen him yet. Never comes out but I think I heard him once in the backyard.”

After a couple hours of talking and laughing, the two best friends decidedly went home and called you once they arrived safely. The night was chilly and the sky was clear. You admired the sunset and the orange and purple hues in the sky from the bench of your porch. If you could, you'd paint the scenery.

The sound of a door opening made you look to the side and saw Draco pulling out a cigarette. He looked around and once his eyes landed on yours, he reached in his pocket for the lighter. Once it was lighted, he took a deep inhale and let the smoke out with a long puff.

“Long couple days?” you asked from across. He took another puff before he started walking to the fence separating your yards. You did the same and leaned against it next to him. “Feel like shit,” he said under his breath.

“You look like shit,” you commented. Draco glared at you and you laughed at him. It took him a couple seconds to drop his glare and then he started laughing as well. When you looked at him, you noticed how his eyes crinkled and how bright his smile was. It was the first time you'd ever seen him like this and it made you feel a bit warmer inside. You remembered how when he'd first moved in, all you wanted was to be friends with your new neighbor and have moments like this.

The silence lasted a while when your laughters died down. He finished the last of the cigarette and stepped on it as you just stood and wandered into nothing. Whether it was an awkward silence or not, you didn't know. But considering you were comfortable, maybe it wasn't.

You looked at your neighbor and reached one of your hands out to him. Draco looked confused, like he once did when you first went to his door and reached for a handshake. He stood still as he expected you to say something. The expression spoke for him so you finally explained yourself, “Friends?”

Draco seemingly thought about it, eyes going back and forth from your hand to your eyes. He then looked at his house for some reason and met your eyes again. Hesitantly, he shook your hand, “Friends.”

This was going to be an odd friendship for sure, but after months of trying, a friendship began.

—

next chp

(っ◔◡◔)っ taglist: @beiahadid @malfoy-styles-wife @fivenightslaughter @juneballoon999 @leydileyla @fangirlanotherjust @originalsoulcollector @opiomancy @lipstickandloveletters @ninacotte @daedric-sorceress @frecklesandfirecrackers @hahee154hq @disartrous @oh-those-barricade-boys @lunalovecroft

[polar534]

Jersey Stealing Pt. 3

This one is loooooong. I mean it. Probably longer then part one, but it's worth it. If you all were waiting for the bullies comeuppance, this part is for you.

Amity. Is. Pissed.

***

Amity leaned against the cold steel of the flagpole, her eyes peeled. Normally the witch hated using the internet to look up people. The human world's connected network was so filled with obnoxious jerks that it was no wonder Luz had one of them as a grom fear.

This was different though. She had to find what this girl looked like. As she stared into the endless amount of students milling out of the school her mind began to drift back to the night before.

As expected, her conversation with Luz didn't exactly lead anywhere.

***

"Hey Luz? Can we... can we talk?" Amity asked hesitantly, watching as Luz got ready for bed. The witch had been patiently waiting for the right time to approach her about this, and now was as good of time as any.

Luz blinked in the mirror, before turning around and facing Amity, her toothbrush still hanging out the corner of her mouth.

"Mhmm?" Came the muffled reply as Luz adjusted the brush in her mouth to scrub at the other side.

"I can wait until you're done you know." Amity rolled her eyes with a smile.

Luz made a face behind the toothbrush.

"Mhhhm. Mhmm hhmmmm!" She argued fiercely as she turned to face the sink again.

Grabbing the water nearby, Luz cleaned her mouth and spit out what was left of the toothpaste, turning to Amity with a grin.

"No no!! See! All done!" Luz beamed, flashing her minty smile and making Amity laugh. She leapt from the bathroom to the bed and sat cross-legged facing Amity.

"Whatcha wanna talk about?"

"I want to talk about what happened a couple of nights ago."

Luz's eyes widened before she waved her hand in front of her face.

"Oh that? It just caught me off guard. I'm fine now-"

"No you're not!" Amity said quickly, before Luz could try denying it all again. "You haven't been acting like yourself lately and I'm not the only one who noticed."

"Amity. I'm fine. It's all in the past anyways." Luz assured her, her smile fading to a small sliver. "Like I said, I just wasn't expecting to see them ther-"

"I know what happened. At the game. What they said to you." Amity interrupted her again, her voice coldly serious.

Shock registered on Luz's face before her hands found the blanket underneath them and gripped it tightly. She looked down at it as her face hardened, her expression guarded.

But Amity wasn't done.

"Lokte asked their brother if he heard anything and their brother told me." She continued a little more softly, reaching out to put a hand on Luz's knee.

"I asked your mother about Sasha. I think I have an idea of what she meant to you."

"Amity..."

The blanket twisted harder, Luz's fists balling it into a small knot.

"It's ok to be upset. But you've got to let me in on these things, how else am I supposed to help?"

Luz finally looked up to her. Brown eyes met amber ones and Amity realized with a shock just how watery they both had become.

"Can we... can we please not talk about it? It's in the past. Anything she might have meant to me is all gone now, right? So why bother?" She practically mumbled, defeat dripping from her voice.

"Well it's not in the past to me! I'm still learning about all of this. And they can't keep treating you like that!" Amity argued.

"They don't matter to me. I've got Willow and Gus, and Eda and Lilith." Luz said quietly, slowly unwrapping her hand from the blanket to grab Amity's, a slow grin reappearing on her face.

"Annnnnnd I've got you." Luz waggled her eyebrows playfully causing Amity to choke out a laugh past the knot in her throat.

"Luuuuuzzz." The witch groaned as her girlfriend's grin grew bigger.

"I'll be fine, perfectly fine, so long as I've got someone as wonderful as you taking care of me." Luz teased further.

Amity groaned again and gave her a light shove.

"You're such a cheese."

"You're right, I am a cheese. A big cheese to everyone who counts!" Luz shot back, straightening up and leaning dramatically on Amity's shoulder, crushing her into the bed.

"And you loooooovvveeeee me." Luz sing-songed as she flipped over and laid on Amity's chest, looking her in the eyes.

Amity stared back into those big, dopey brown eyes and obnoxious grin and felt her heart flutter. Her face went red as she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. I do." She chuckled, leaning forward to kiss Luz on the forehead and making her girlfriend squeak in delight.

"Which is why I'm letting this go for tonight. But this isn't over Noceda!"

Luz merely grinned.

"I'd expect nothing less from you, Blight."

***

A sharp whistle jolted Amity out of the memory. She sneered at the guy responsible as he winked at her and disappeared inside the school.

The sooner she found Sasha, the better.

Another wolf whistle had her moving up and into the school. Navigating the hallways of the human school was a lot like finding her way around Hexside. The only problem was, she had no idea where Sasha could be. A thought crossed her mind as she made her way to the back of the school. If there was anyone who knew where Sasha could be, it was Bryce.

And Bryce was the star player of the football team.

Amity pulled plenty of attention with her wherever she went. If she wasn't recognized for Hockey, her hair caught enough attention. Even though the dye job had faded just to the very ends of her hair, the bright green attracted many eyes.

Despite all of this, she thankfully wasn't stopped as she made her way through the school and past the bleachers to the team currently practicing out on the field. She found Bryce fairly quickly.

Or rather. He found her.

"Oh would you look at that boys! This is the babe I was telling you about!"

Amity growled in her throat as a bunch of sweaty football players started running towards her. Their leader, the person she assumed was Bryce, had his helmet off and was walking calmly over to her, a disgusting grin plastered on his face.

"Is it true you checked Ricky Gormley so hard that he cried?"

"I heard that you're the best shot on the team, why are you only on defense?"

The questions swarmed her ears as the boys surrounded her. Instead of addressing any of them, she glared at the player without the helmet.

"I assume you're Bryce."

Bryce's grin grew as smugness flashed in his eyes.

"Why, have you heard of me?" Bryce acknowledged her with a wink that made Amity's skin crawl.

She pushed through the unease and disgust.

"I've heard... some things." Amity admitted, keeping her face blank.

Bryce nudged his friend in the ribs. The known bully leaned against the other player as he waggled his eyebrows at Amity.

"So whatcha doing round here?" Bryce teased.

"I heard you might know where I could find Sasha. I've got a few questions for her."

The football player deflated for a moment before quickly recovering and sliding off his friends shoulder with a smile.

"Yeah. I know where she is. But it's going to cost ya" He grinned wickedly. "How about a date with me. Next Friday after the game. I'll even let you wear my jersey." He winked as his friends loudly gasped and laughed.

Amity smiled and used her finger to draw Bryce is close. As he leaned in, he moved his head so she could whisper in his ear.

"I have a different proposition. How about you tell me where Sasha is, and I won't embarrass you in front of your entire team." Amity growled lowly, making sure only Bryce could hear her.

To her annoyance he simply straightened and flashed her another insufferable grin.

"Ohh. That sounds like fun. I accept your terms hockey girl." He taunted loudly, getting into a ready stance.

His posse seemed to get even more rowdy at this, not having heard what Amity said and jumping to their own conclusions.

Amity rolled her eyes. Turning as if she was going to leave (a chorus of boos sounded behind her) she quickly whipped around and caught Bryce off guard. Using her shoulder to send him sprawling backwards while sticking her foot behind his own, he crashed to the ground in an instant. Amity took a step forward and stood above him, arms crossed.

"Tell me what I want to know or it's going to be more then just the wind getting knocked out of you." She snarled, stepping back and allowing him to get up.

Bryce blinked from his grounded position on the field.

"Hot." He breathed out, a little dazed.

Amity growled as Bryce leapt to his feet, showing no signs of any injury or slowing.

"Alright. You got me. Sasha is usually in the art classroom after school talking with the teacher. Don't know why, but I also don't care."

Amity rolled her eyes and turned to walk away, fighting the urge to make another comment or throw another punch. If Luz could keep her composure around him, then so could Amity.

That was, until the brute grabbed her arm. She reluctantly let him swing her around and to her surprise Bryce looked almost... shy.

"Wait. So about that date..."

"You've already been told I'm taken. I doubt it takes long for even an oaf like you to figure out I don't like guys." She snarled back at him, taking his hand off her arm and twisting it painfully until he crumpled forward in pain.

"You're going to leave my girlfriend alone from now on, or I will come back." Amity threatened lowly, releasing his wrist and pushing the football player back as he stared blankly wide-eyed and nursed his hurt wrist. "And next time you touch me, I'll break your wrist."

Amity turned around and started walking back up to the bleachers, the stunned silence of the team following her. Despite how good it felt to put Bryce in his place, to wipe the grin off his face, she immediately began to worry that she crossed a line. What if he came after Luz for the things she said?

Taking a quick glance over her shoulder the witch saw the injured player grinning at her once again. He cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled back up at her.

"Playing hard to get eh? I'll see you again hockey girl. I know you can't wait!" He yelled up at her before turning to his teammates.

His voice was faint but it carried up to Amity's ears nonetheless.

"She must've heard about that creep Luz hitting on her. Honestly had me going for a second. Good to see she's got a sense of humor though!" He laughed to his team.

Amity wished, not for the first time that the human world had just a little magic.

She would give anything to be able to burn the bully to ash.

***

Luckily doodles and posters adorned the 'art' hallway like signs pointing Amity where to go. It was far more quiet here then any of the other sections of the school and Amity almost felt like a ghost, hearing her footsteps echo loudly around her as she walked swiftly through the hall.

Her ears twitched from under the bandanna she wore like a sweatband. Following the faint sound of laughter, Amity found the girl she was looking for standing at the front of a large classroom with double doors.

Peering into the room Amity could see that Sasha was talking with an older woman with graying hair and kind eyes. They were both laughing at something the younger girl had pulled up on her phone, neither of them noticing the intruder.

Amity took the time to analyze her target. Sasha seemed to be a much different person now then how she appeared in her photos. Instead of the flowery and airy style she carried and wore in all of her pictures, she was dressed casually, wearing sweatpants and a bulky sweatshirt that almost threatened to consume her thin frame. It wasn't the wardrobe that drew Amity's eye however, it was the small almost barely visible strip of pink that waved in her otherwise blonde hair.

Unconsciously, Amity's hand went to the remainder of her own dye job.

The movement was enough to garner attention as both teacher and student turned to face the doorway. As Sasha's green eyes met her amber ones, Amity remembered why she was here. Her blood began to boil. Here she was, so calm and collected, so... confident, while Luz had been quiet and withdrawn for days now. It wasn't fair.

Not waiting to be addressed, she strolled straight into the room.

"Can I help you miss?" The teacher asked kindly, freezing Amity in her advance. The witch stiffened. Collecting herself quickly, Amity turned around with a wide smile.

"No it's quite alright. I'm sorry I was in such a rush! I must've forgotten my manners. I just really would like to talk to my friend over here."

"Is that alright Sasha?" The lady turned to the blonde haired girl with a raised eyebrow.

Sasha looked between the two people in front of her before shrugging casually.

"I'll be right back Ms. Reinard. Me and... uh, Amity, right?" Sasha looked over at the witch for reassurance and got a stiff nod as a response.

"Me and Amity are just going to step out into the hallway real quick." Sasha finished politely as she stuck her hands in the pocket of her sweatshirt and walked Amity out into the hallway.

"So... um. Why is the lead star of the hockey team wanting to talk to me?" Sasha asked quite shyly when they were far enough out of earshot. Not knowing where to stand, she settled with leaning against a locker.

Amity did not follow her lead. Instead she tore off the jersey she had on, leaving her standing in the hallway in just a white tank top and blue jeans. Sasha stared at her curiously as the witch began to fidget with the jersey.

"I wanted to ask you about something that happened at my last game." Amity said coolly, her tone level.

"Oh. You must've heard about Luz..."

Amity's heartrate spiked at the name of her girlfriend but she kept her face straight. Eyes half lidded. Don't show any emotion. Gain as much information as you can. That was the way of the Blight.

"One could say that." Amity replied casually. "What do you think of her?"

Sasha's eyes widened almost guiltily as Amity continued turning her jersey over in her hands.

"She's... she's nothing you should worry about. Luz is mostly harmless." The girl sighed, looking down at the ground and avoiding the witch's intense stare.

Amity's hands gripped tighter into the fabric of her jersey.

"That didn't answer my question." The witch ever so subtly growled.

"I don't understand what you mean?"

"My question was what you thought about her. Though in all fairness, I guess it doesn't matter. Luz never really cared about what everyone else seemed to think about her. Everyone except you."

Sasha stared at her with wide eyes as Amity's face twisted into a frown. Amber eyes drifted down at the jersey.

"Are you... ok?" Sasha asked after a moment. When Amity didn't answer right away, the girl took a step forward.

Reacting quickly, Amity side stepped the hand that was coming down to rest on her shoulder and instead tossed her jersey up in the air.

"Yeah. Hold that for a second would you?"

Sasha lunged forward to catch the jersey just in time as the fabric unraveled in her hands. Suddenly, the tag attached to the back was sticking out. Sasha eyes locked onto it immediately just as Amity knew they would. After all, the colors Luz chose were hard to miss.

"What is this?"

"First you don't answer my question, now you're you saying you can't read either?" Amity snapped.

The witch knew what was on the tag. Knew that Sasha would've understood it. Should've understood it.

When Amity had first gotten her jersey she had been a little nervous. A new jersey meant a new team. A new chance for her to get her teammates injured again.

Luz didn't see it like that however. She was ecstatic, making sure it fit Amity well and making sure that she was plenty excited about her new jersey. When her girlfriend still had some reservations about it, Luz claimed it was simply because she hadn't made it *hers* yet. Taking some markers and dashing out the door with the shirt, Luz emerged from wherever she had been hiding a few minutes later with a very bright and colorful tag that read:

'Property of Amity.' With a small drawing of a hockey stick and puck.

A couple of weeks and jersey stealing incidents later and there appeared another line on the tag.

'Property of Amity. And Luz! (her amazing wonderful girlfriend).'

The understanding quiet that swarmed the hallway was deafening.

"So she was telling the truth..." Sasha spoke quietly, thumbing the tag gently.

Amity leaned forward and plucked the jersey out of Sasha's hands. With her arms exposed, she cut an intimidating figure, the muscles she had gained from training and practice obvious. The movement seemed to startle the blonde-haired girl as she looked up in alarm.

"Look. I'm sorry, but you don't understand. You couldn't. The situations she's caused and problems... You haven't known her as long as we-"

"I don't need to." Amity interrupted calmly, gently sliding the jersey back over her head. "In the amount of time I've known Luz she's nearly gotten me killed in a library, almost got my siblings eaten alive, nearly set us both on fire-"

"What kind of camp did you go to?!"

"-and almost terrorized an entire town with their worst fears." Amity finished, ignoring Sasha's question entirely. She held up a lazy hand gesturing to nothing. "And that's just the short list."

"Then... why?" Sasha asked after a short pause, her eyes lingering to a specific spot behind Amity's head where the jersey's tag would've been.

Amity laughed, a sharp and cold sound in the mostly quiet room. Sasha flinched, her back hitting the locker she was leaning against with a loud and hollow bang.

"You know the thing about you bullies, is that the one thing you never did was give Luz a chance. I almost didn't either. That was a mistake."

Sasha looked up curiously, a large range of emotions flashing through her eyes. The girl's submissive stance was familiar to Amity. Uncomfortably familiar. Flashbacks from her days of sullenly stalking around Hexside flashed in her head.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Luz was always the one who got us out of each and every situation. She's always willing to help fix her mistakes." Amity stared at Sasha pointedly. "Always willing to look for the best in people."

The blonde haired girl in front of her hung her head.

"You threatened to call the cops on my girlfriend." Amity told her plainly.

Sasha didn't say anything, but instead sighed heavily and nodded. Her silence only irritated Amity more.

"You know I asked around. I've seen Luz deal with bullies before. I know it usually doesn't ever get to her. I know about Bryce, about the brute he is. But you were 'different'. You meant something else to Luz."

"I..." Sasha blinked, genuinely confused, "... what?"

"Tell me, since you've known her for sooo long. Have you ever seen Luz quiet?"

"Quiet?"

"Yeah. Quiet. Withdrawn. Sad." Amity listed, annoyed.

"No, she's... she's always been really out-going and kinda loud if I'm being honest. Even when everyone was so clearly annoyed with it, she didn't stop." Sasha admitted. Her face grew with a sad smile. "Nothing really got her down."

"Well it has now. You have." Amity said coldly.

The blonde girl's eyes widened, but the witch didn't let her say anything.

"Luz has faced a lot of things, none of them pretty, and still come out the same person as before. I've seen her do it. But the idea she had of you, the hope she had... you were different in her eyes." Amity explained shoving her hands deep into her pockets to prevent them from clenching into fists. A lump formed in her throat, the anger and empathy she felt balling tightly there and making it difficult to speak or breathe.

"But I see now you're just the same as the rest of them." Amity growled.

The sentence clearly had an immediate effect on Sasha who's eyes flashed in anger, she rose up to defend herself but Amity was already done. Her anger was quickly fading, leaving her body cold and numb. All she wanted was to go home. To go home to Luz. With a short decisive wave she cut off anything the other girl could've possibly said and took a step closer, purposefully drawing herself up to look as intimidating as possible.

Even if it couldn't stick with Bryce, she would make sure it stuck here. The last thing Luz needed was more of a reminder of just how badly the human world failed her.

"Leave my girlfriend alone. Tell all your friends that if they come near Luz again, they'll get to experience exactly why I'm the best defensive hockey player in the division."

Amity turned sharply, her footsteps filling in the silence left behind from the threat. She heard the door of the art class room open again after a pause and the teacher's kind voice drifted through the hallway.

"Sasha... you're crying. All you alright? Did something happen?"

Amity didn't stop as Sasha hesitantly answered. She refused to hear her excuses, her mind stuck in the past. Stuck to the night Amity found her girlfriend nearly freezing to death, staring up at nothing. The night she saw Luz's hope for something die.

[ayzrules]

✶ 𝐇𝐗𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒: 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 & 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒, 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 & 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   Long story short, I have been thinking about this for wayyyyy too long now and wanted to get some ~thoughts~ & analysis written down! This post is going to be...fairly long, lol. Apologies in advance :D

  Also, if you can’t see the last gif (the one for ‘holy’), click here. Tumblr keeps fucking up the image when i try to upload it :////

  This post is probably going to be about 2/3 yorknew & phantom troupe/kurapika focused, 1/3 chimera ants, maybe with some references to other arcs (including manga-only arcs) mixed in. so, ofc, tons of spoilers ahead! also, i realize that my blog theme is hard to read (and i’m p sure clicking ‘keep reading’ sends you to the og post itself), so i’m linking the post w/ full text copy/pasted in on my art backup side blog (which has a more legible font) here. 

✶ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇   I’m sure absolutely nobody is surprised with me starting here - there is just. SO. MUCH. DEATH. in hxh. & right from the start, one thing I noticed that togashi really emphasized was the #4 and its connection to death. in japanese, chinese, and im p sure some other asian cultures the number 4 is pronounced like the word for death so it’s associated with death in general, and boy oh boy does the ‘deadly number 4′ thing show up E V E R Y W H E R E. we get to the hunter exam, and hisoka is applicant #44. kurapika is #404. i didn’t notice it at first, but this was so intentional holy shit. togashi is NOT SUBTLE.

  So pika & hisoka are, right off the bat, associated with death. okay. and then there are even more clues to drive the point home: hisoka is member #4 in the phantom troupe, kurapika’s birthday is april 4th (aka 4/4). 100% not a coincidence (!!). with hisoka, it’s pretty obvious why togashi’s throwing all this death 444444 stuff around - dude is a psycho murder pedo clown, literally gets off on killing people (and there’s also the fact that judas sits 4th from the left in the last supper painting, and he’s sort of the judas equivalent for the phantom troupe). with kurapika, though, it’s a bit more subtle and woven deeper into his characterization, which i LOVE. togashi puts the mans in blue & gold & white (traditionally ‘pure’ or ‘heavenly’ colors), makes him so fucking kind & so good-hearted.....when he’s not relentlessly pursuing his revenge, ofc. more on this in the next section, but pika = death. togashi has made that v v v clear.

  Backtracking a bit to hisoka, though, I also just wanted to point out the 4 is death symbolism in the fortunes too (GOD i love the fortunes): in one translation, he’s the false fourth moon, and in the og japanese (i think), he’s the false hare (4th in the lunar zodiac or w/e it’s called. i don’t know the japanese cultural influences here, but in the chinese legend that established the zodiac animals, they race across the heavenly river & the top 12 animals got zodiac slots. the hare finished 4th, so it’s #4 in the cycle). 

  And just as a final note, Tserriednich is the fourth prince of the kakin empire, and also another dude who has a hard-on for murder & other gory shit. again: togashi is not subtle with this, lmfao

✶ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘, 𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘   As probably everyone who’s gotten to yorknew knows, togashi is so 0 fucks given when he wants to be. I mean there’s the whole thing where he just. took New York and decided, Yorknew. LMFAO, but also, he made the main antag of that arc be named chrollo lucilfer, sit around in a ruined church, have a reversed cross coat, pale & dark-haired/dark-eyed, generally dressed in dark colors, very terrible murder guy. liiiike......chrollo x devil symbolism game is 1000/10 at this point lmaooo

  And i know absolutely nothing about christianity in general, but pt/kurapika & yorknew arc is just so full of christian imagery/symbolism! one thing that i L O O O O O O V E though is how togashi really blurs the traditional christian-coded good/evil, holy/damned boundaries.

  Back to kurapika: he wears gold and blue, his coloring is very stereotypically ‘angelic’, he’s precious and good and kind. his chains are all about ~judgment~ and ~healing~ - some of the chains are also in literal cross shapes, aren’t they? And the chain dagger in his own heart...the imagery is very startlingly similar to the immaculate heart of mary, where the swords stabbing thru the heart apparently represent seven sorrows. IDK much about this stuff other than the visual similarities; literally had to google ‘daggers through heart christianity?’ to even get the name of that thing LOL. anyway, at first, it seems like togashi establishes him as the ‘angel’, the ‘good’, the ‘holy’ in the angel/devil, good/evil, holy/damned dichotomy between him and chrollo.

  But that’s not the end of the story. his entire storyline is driven by a huuuuuuuge giant desire for vengeance, first of all, and then there’s the scarlet eyes, which canonically are seen as demonic/cursed/what have you (according to one of the movies or smth? where they show pika as a 10 y/o?), and then we also have red eyes in modern culture being associated w pretty much the same thing (vampires, anyone?). the fight scene with uvo has everything in b&w besides the blood on his face & his red eyes & the moon (<<< more fortune foreshadowing & symbolism, i love to see it), and there are tonssss of scenes where he has to suppress his rage. so all of that is obviously not very angelic of him i would say LOL. in fact, what i find super interesting is that the scarlet/red eyes (which are ‘demonic’) is actually the driving factor behind his super powerful nen abilities; this ties in so well with the fortunes & death associations imo! the fortunes call him the ‘death-bringer’ in one translation, or ‘half-angel, half-death’, so that’s one side of pika = red eyes = death, but there’s also the fact that emperor time is literally draining his life force. so pika = death for both himself and others namely the pt, question mark?

  Now for chrollo: togashi’s devil symbolism is EXTREMELY overt with him, but i love the subtler jesus references too. the church thing, obviously, and the st. peters cross which is cuz st peter respected jesus too much & didn’t think he was worthy to die in the same way as him (or something like that, i am the most atheist person in the world & hxh is literally my entire christian education pls) but is also used as an anti-christianity symbol these days. bandit’s secret looks like a bible, lbr, and mans has a cross tattoo.

  Other things beyond visuals - 12 spiders, 12 apostles; hisoka’s betrayal, where member #4 can be thought to correspond to judas sitting 4th from left at last supper. and this miiiiight be a bit of a stretch, but i think the meteor city being the place of origin may also play into the blurred line between angel/devil and holy/damned here; meteors are defined as space rocks that are in earth’s atmosphere, becoming incandescent in the process. meteorites are for the kinds that actually reach the ground. and idk, lucifer was cast out of heaven / sky too right? so i think there might be some subtle fallen angel imagery/symbolism playing into the pt as well

✶ 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒)   Last section yay! i don’t have as much to say about this, besides when i was making chimera ant arc edits & realized that there might have been some subtle gon/meruem parallels???

  So obviously, everyone knows that line killua says to gon - “you are light” - and then i was just remembering that meruem’s name means.... “light that illuminates all” (!!!!). maybe it’s a coincidence, but knowing togashi, i’m leaning towards nahhhh. there HAS TO be some kinda meaning there (!!).

  Going back to the events of the chimera ant arc....ooh boy. let’s see: gon is optimistic & hopeful even in the face of kite potentially being dead, killua says he’s light, they find kite & dude is fucked up, gon is pissed. gets all angry & ~dark~, especially during the palace invasion when he’s staring pitou down as she fixes up komugi. then the actual fight against pitou: more darkness, more anger, but through it all there’s still light, namely his jajanken being very orange & fiery lookin.....and that final sequence, where he puts all his possible nen he’d ever have into his ~final form~ or wahtever & turns into a male version of true form!bisky but dressed in a crop top & short-shorts (i am SCARRED, btw. s c a r r e d !). there’s just huuuge flashes of light as that’s going on, and it reminded me of supernovas or dying stars when i was thinking about it, where the star is like, collapsing under its own weight? & burning thru its own fuel, until there’s nothing left except a dwarf or black hole or what have you. one final, extremely deadly burst of light & energy before death.

  On the meruem side of things: born into a dark cave, exhibits a traditionally evil/cruel/wicked/whatever personality/traits so that has ppl associating him with darkness. then he gets to know komugi, starts to appreciate other aspects of humanity, seems like he could have actually turned into a decent person who doesn’t want to eat everyone - so that’s a ‘path to light’, maybe? - and then the extermination team yeets themselves into the palace, netero takes him out to bumfuck nowhere, they fight. netero’s fighting is just ALL light, from his giant ass golden 100-type guanyin bodhisattva to the poor man’s rose. again, there’s the sense of finality to it all, in a similar vein to dying stars: netero comes in determined to kill meruem no matter what, and we all know netero doesn’t flake. then we see netero get destroyed after the zero hand, and he triggers the rose, and everything is burning & on fire before the flames are put out and all turns dark again.

  But wait!!! pouf & youpi revive meruem and all he does is play gungi with komugi, even with the poison of the rose. he eventually dies, and the gungi pieces in that final shot of them together (i am BAWLING just thinking about it holy shit) has one that’s all white, one that’s a black ring and white inside. i assume all white is for komugi, who has never done ANYTHING wrong in her LIFE, so i like to think that the 2nd one is for meruem - born “into darkness”, literally & figuratively, but he turns something like ‘good’ by the end. it’s interesting how togashi has sort of gone for a bit of a subversion here: the hero going from light to darkness, and the main antag from darkness to light.

✶ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍   AahhhhHHHHHhhh so if you read all the way down here through my LONG rambles, tysm! i would LOVE LOVE LOVE to hear what other people think about all this, and i’ve FOR SURE missed tons and tons of stuff - chimera ants is just. SO MUCH. and i don’t know it as well as yorknew eeek.

  I’m not sure if i’m really ~knowledgeable~ in any other areas relating to hxh, so this might be the only one of these that i do, but i definitely think about some of this - esp all the religious symbolism & #4 stuff - a ton! so in the meantime, if it’s of any interest, i’m just going to shamelessly plug my hxh x religious beliefs/superstitions edit series :D lots of love to all!!!

[jawritter]

Prank Gone Wrong

A/N: This was a private request from my sister. So you guys don’t crucify me upside down lol. This was originally posted on wattpad, and someone who wished to remain anon asked me to bring it over here. So be nice lol. As always all mistakes are mine! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one. I was nervous about writing it. 

**Disclaimer!** This is a complete and total work of fiction. I don’t believe Jared would ever do something like this!! LOL Even though Misha may beg to differ..... 

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected smut, drugged!jensen, jared being an asswhole on accident. (kinda), language, exaggerated effects of a drug, hint at reader with body image issues (very brief), male masterbations (also brief). Shifting viewpoints. I think/hope that’s everything.

Pairing: Jensen x Jared, Jensen x reader, Dean x Cherry (reader’s character), Richard Speight x reader, Richard Speight x Jensen, Misha x Reader, Jared x Reader, Jared x Misha. 

Word Count: 5103

Want more? Check out my masterlist!

****MASTERLIST****

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Jensen's POV:

"Jensen, JENSEN!" Mikaela screamed at him. Making him jump in his seat. 

"Sorry." He said, Settling back down in the makeup chair. Turning his head for her like she wanted so that she could even out the base coat of makeup she was applying to his face. 

"You feeling okay? You're really zoned out this morning."

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, just tired I guess." Jensen said. Knowing that was an absolute lie. He wasn't tired at all. In fact he'd never felt more awake in his life. 

Today was the day he'd been nervous about since he found out about it. The sex scene between "Cherry," Dean's new love interests.. And Dean. And Cherry just happened to also be Richard's niece y/n. 

See Jensen has had a secret crush on y/n since she started working for the show four weeks ago. He'd been separated from Danneel for six months now. The only ones on the set that knew that was Jared. So there was no way that Jensen could ask y/n out even though he really wanted to. He had to wait for things to become public, and he didn't want to do that until the divorce was finalized. 

Now here he was, going to have to preform a sex scene with the woman that he can't seem to get out of his head. While everyone, except Jared, thinks that he's still in love with Danneel.

"Morning sexy!!" Jared said, flopping down in the makeup chair next to him. Handing him a cup of coffee that he gladly accepted. 

"Thank you!! I was running late this morning, and didn't get go by and grab myself any." 

"So you ready for today's scene with y/n?" Jared said wiggling his eyebrows at his friend. Watching him intently as he took a deep swing from his coffee.

"Yea, guess as I'll ever be... "

"Okay Jensen your done!" Mikaela said. Ushering him out of the trailer door. He was running late to the costume trailer as well, so he downed the rest of his coffee, and bolted for the door. Glad to be away from Jared and the conversation at hand. He did not want to discuss today's scene with anyone. He just wanted to get it over with. He definitely didn't want to admit he was fighting everything in him that was excited to see her underneath him, even if it was just pretend.

Jared's POV:

Jared rushed out of the makeup trailer headed toward the costume trailer. Seeing Misha coming out of it already in full Castiel mode. 

"Misha you coming to watch Jensen and y/n's scene today?" He asked. Making only two short strides of his long legs in order to catch up with the shorter man. 

"I don't know, should I? My coverage isn't until once they're done with you in the bunker library." Misha said. Looking up from his script he was reading when Jared had caught up with him. 

" Well you might want to, it might get... Interesting..." Jared said. Almost bouncing on the balls of his feet with glee. 

"What did you do Jared?" Misha said. Looking at the overly tall man, concerned, but grateful for once It was Jensen and y/n who were in the line of fire and not Misha himself. 

"Well. I was at my uncle's house on the brake, and while I was snooping in his guest bathroom I found some Viagra shots. So.. .I kind of stole one of them... Anyway, I knew Jay and y/n had this scene today, and was running late. So I got him a cup of coffee and brought it to the makeup trailer for him. With the Viagra shot mixed in it..." 

Jared was grinning like a criminal that had just pulled off the greatest bank robbery in human history. Misha stood there with his jaw on the ground, caught somewhere between amusement, and concern for Jensen. 

"Well did... I'm... Oh my god Jared... Did he drink it?" Misha said. Concern growing, but amusement winning out in the end. He did make a mental note NEVER to accept coffee from Jared ever again...

"Yep downed it before he left the makeup trailer. Come on, it's going to take them about an hour to set up. So it should be good and in his system by the time they get down to business." Jared said taking off toward the costume trailer to hurry and get changed into Sam's outfit. This may be the greatest prank he's pulled yet!!

Your POV:

You were having one of those days.. Nothing was going right. You spilled your coffee this morning before you got to finish it. Cliff was late getting you and Jensen to set, you both lived in the same apartment complex while filming in Vancouver, so you usually just car pooled with them, it was just easier. 

Even though you guys were already running late, traffic kept you even later, like the whole universe was trying to cosmically get you back for having  a huge crush on this extremely handsome and extremely married man that was sitting next to you. 

You where nervous about the sex scene today. No matter how many of them you did, they were always awkward. Add in the major crush you had on your costar, and that made it even more awkward. 

Jensen must have been nervous, because he wasn't his normal talkative self on the way into the studio. 

It was an hour worth of hair and makeup for you, then to your trailer to change into your nude underwear and robe to head to set. It was also December in Vancouver, which made that a very cold walk.

By the time you got to set that morning. Everyone was there and in place. Jensen was standing off in the corner talking to the director, you took your place already in the bed. For this scene your character Cherry was supposed to be sleeping, and Dean comes into her to.. Well You know... After an extra difficult hunt and your characters argument that you filmed yesterday were Dean had admitted his feelings for Cherry, but ran out of the bunker before she could respond to him.

Stripping your robe you get under the sheets and turn on your side as directed by Eric. Your uncle Richard comes over and kneels down on the side of the bed to talk to you.

"How are you feeling kid, are you sure you're okay with this?" 

"I'm a big girl Richard. I think I can handle a little sex scene." You tell him. Trying to downplay your nerves a little. 

"Okay, Okay," He said. Throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "You know what's going to happen, Jensen's going to come through the door, stand next to your bed. The coverage is going to be on a sleeping Cherry, Dean will then strip down and slip into the bed with you. That's where we're going to start the fun stuff. Now we haven't scripted this scene. Because no matter how much we've tried we can't make it look real on paper, so we're going to have Jensen adlib it. Just follow his lead. If at any moment you feel awkward or uncomfortable, just let us know and we'll reset and start over again. Okay." 

"Okay." You said. Feeling a little information overload, but you should be used to that by now. 

"Okay." He said, Standing up as they brought the lights down on set. "Jensen's a professional, don't worry." He said winking at you and making his way over to his directors chair while you tried your damndest to calm down your racing heart rate. 

Jensen's POV:

Jensen stood off to the side of the set, letting you get comfortable and covered before he made his way to his mark. Trying his hardest to keep his mind on the upcoming task at hand. To do this with as few takes as possible. 

He felt funny, but attributed it to his nerves, and tried to shake it off. Looking over to the side of him behind the camera he saw Jared and Misha standing off to the side by the PA's whispering to each other. Probably going to try and find a reason to make fun of him after this scene is over. Great more pressure. 

Jensen adjusted his stance uncomfortably as the lights came down and they called the markers in place. The commands started to come out. Y/n adjusted in the bed and smiled at him. A smile that nearly knocked the breath out of him. The only problem is it seemed to show off her cleavage in the brief moment that she turned toward him. 

"Quiet on set!!" 

Fuck he was already getting hard, and he hadn't even gotten to the bed yet were she was laying. What the fuck was wrong with him? He tried to low key adjust himself to make himself more comfortable, and hide the fact that he was already having some problems. He'd never done this before. His heart rate quickened. 

"Action."

Your POV:

As soon as they called action your eyes closed and you started to put on the presumption that Cherry was asleep. Waiting for Dean to come through the door with battered breath. You never get tired of watching Jensen play Dean. Jensen was sexy to begin with, but when he put on his bad ass hunter act it just did all sorts of things to you that you weren't ready to admit yet.

You could hear the door shut to Cherry's room, you could also hear your heart beating in your ears, but you tried to ignore it. Keeping focused on keeping your breaths even, like you would if you were really sleeping. 

You could feel Jensen's presents behind you. Even though your eyes were closed. Hearing Dean's clothes hit the floor as he made quick work of them. 

You felt the bed dip as his weight came down behind you, his lips finding your throat. You knew that there was no script to this, and that he was just winging it. So you lay there. Playing off the fact that he hadn't woken her up yet. 

His lips ghosted over your throat to the pulse points behind your ears and you couldn't stop the shiver that went down your back.

"Cut!!!"

"Okay guys great so far. I don't think he needs to do that again. The next time it cuts to you guys your already going to be deep in the act. So... Let's start from there. Since this isn't scripted this might have to be done a few times. You guys good so far?" Richard called out from his directors chair.

"Yea, let's just do it." Jensen said, his voice was a little more strained than normal. He must be nervous too. 

"Okay you guys get in position and Jensen nod when you're ready."

Jensen adjusted himself to be hovering over you. Trying his best to keep staring at the wall, and not you lying underneath him. 

To say that the man was breathtaking was an understatement. A light sheen of sweat already coating his chest. You wondered if they sprayed him before he got into the bed. Why would he already be sweating? Jay wasn't really a sweater. Not that you'd ever noticed anyway. 

Finally looking down at you when he'd positioned himself between your legs, trying hard not to touch you with his body. He supported his weight on his arms, and knees. 

"You okay?" He asked. Looking down at you finally.

"Yeah I'm good, you?" You were starting to feel a little concerned about him. He wasn't acting like his normal joking Jensen at all. It worried you.

"I'm fine sweetheart don't worry about me." He said, winking at you. Trying to make light of an awkward situation. Even though you had nude underwear on, you couldn't help but feel exposed to him, and you couldn't help but feel self conscious about the parts of your body that you weren't necessarily happy with. 

Jensen looked over to Richard and nodded to him. Then the two of you lay there waiting on the words action!

Jensen had his eyes closed and was taking deep breaths above you. 

"Quiet on Set, ready, and action!!"

As soon as the words were called Jensen's mouth crashed into yours. Knocking the wind out of you. My god the man was a good kisser. 

His lips brushed lightly over your own. That's when you felt him start to move his body above your own, careful not to touch his hips to yours, and keep you covered from the other eyes in the room. 

"Cut!!"

Jensen's head connected to your shoulder and he growled in frustration. "What now Rich?" 

Richard took a tentative step toward the two of you. Jensen still holding his body above your own. 

"I'm sorry Jensen, It just didn't look real, your holding your body too high above hers, you're going to have to have a little contact with each other. You've done this before Jensen. What's wrong today?" 

Jensen took a deep breath, looking from Richard to you. "I just don't want to make y/n feel uncomfortable." He said, keeping his eyes focused on the bed comforter. It was starting to make you feel even more self conscious. Did he not feel attracted to you at all? Did you disgust him so much that he didn't want to even pretend to have sex with you?

Quickly you shoved the feels down, you had to get through this scene. He said he just didn't want to make you uncomfortable. He was trying to show you a little respect, and keeping his eyes deviated form you until absolutely necessary y/n quite being so self conscious!! Jensen is your friend!

"Y/n I don't mean to sound crude, but your niece, and I know you can handle it. I've seen you at parties, we're not that far apart in age, I'm sure you're not a virgin." Your eyes narrowed at him, silently daring him not to go too far here. 

Richard threw his hands up in surrender, and stepped back a step. "All I'm saying is I don't think he'd make you that uncomfortable if his hips ground into you a little. Hell you both have underwear on. It's not like you're really touching each other." 

Rolling your eyes at him and fighting the urge to throw a pillow at his face. "No Richard, it won't make me uncomfortable. Now can we get this done!' 

"Fine, Okay guys here we go!" Richard said running back to his seat. "Action."

Again Jensen's mouth found yours. Slow, but gaining momentum. He ran his hand down your side that the camera was covered on and you couldn't help the small gasp that left your lips or the involuntary shiver that ran down your spine at his touch. 

What you didn't expect was his tongue to run across your lip. Maybe it was an accident. Was he really going to break that rule? Not that you'd mind, but It just didn't seem like Jensen. 

Until you felt it again. This time you give him entrance, and he moans so lowly into your mouth that the camera's wouldn't be able to catch it. The sound is going directly to your core. Soaking your thin layer of panties. 

With that his hips came down fully against yours. Grinding into you once. Something felt off, but you couldn't put your finger on it. His hips came down to yours again as his mouth made its way down your throat. This time you felt him. 

Was he seriously fully erected right now?

He started picking up his pace. Almost rutting into you now. Little moans fall from his lips. 

"Cut!! JENSEN!!"  As soon as his name was called. He flew out of the bed. His back to you and his hands in his hair.  God his back was sexy, but you could tell there was something wrong. 

"Richard I need a few minutes!!" He called over his shoulder not turning around. Jared and Misha burst into a hysterical fit of laughter as Jensen through his robe over his shoulders and almost ran off the set. 

"Okay everybody take 30." Richard said. Grabbing your robe you threw it over your shoulders before Jared and Misha made their way over to where you were standing. Jared was laughing so hard he could hardly breath.

"It's not funny Jared. I think something is wrong with Jensen." You tell him as soon as he gets an ear shot. He couldn't respond only doubling over in laughter.

"Oh yea there's something wrong with him alright." Misha said wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "It's hard to do a sex scene when your horny as fuck." 

With that Jared fell down on the ground on his back rolling. You resisted the urge to hit Misha in the face.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You asked. You weren't about to tell them what you felt, or what Jensen was doing right before the director called cut, because that wasn't Jensen you knew it. They'd done something to him.

"I mean Jared here slipped him liquid Viagra in his coffee this morning in the makeup trailer. He's not quite thinking with his upstairs brain at the moment."

Running your hands over your face as Jared got to his feel heaving with laughter, trying to catch his breath.

"Looks like he ran off to his trailer to try and get ahold of Danneel." Misha said doubling over in his own fit of laughter. Jared on the other hand froze. Not laughing anymore. 

"Oh fuck I forgot." He said, Looking between the two of you. 

"Forgot what?" You said. Fighting the urge to go find a step ladder so that you could slap him in the face without having to jump.

"You guys got to promise not to tell this to anybody, but him and Danni are getting a divorce."

Misha, no longer laughing, turned and faced Jared. "So you mean he's got no one to help him out there, and he's going to basically be stuck with a minimum four hour erection. Jared that's not funny."

"I fucking forgot okay, I knew he had a crush on y/n, he was nervous about the scene today, I just wanted to fuck with him. I didn't think that far ahead. He should be able to just beat it off he'll be fine."

You stood there in stunned silence. "He's got a crush on me?" You said. Looking between the two men. 

They both stopped and looked at you. Jared visibly kicked himself for this prank that had gone very wrong, very quickly.

"Jared you got to go tell him what you did! He's probably freaking the fuck out right now" You tell him. Jared nodes at you, and runs off toward Jensen's trailer. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He felt horrible, but it was too late to take it back now. 

You stood there for a moment weighing your options. 

Finally you made up your mind. 

"Misha go tell Richard we're going to need a lot longer than 30, and that he should go ahead and just do yours and Jared's coverage, me and Jensen can resume after lunch." You said, stalking your way toward Jensen's trailer. 

Misha watched you go. He couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face as realization hit him of where you were going, and just what you had planned to do.

Maybe this prank hadn't gone so wrong after all.

Jensen's POV:

"YOU FUCKING What?!?!" To say that Jensen was livid was an understatement. "What the fuck am I going to do now Jared?!" Pacing back and forth across the trailer. He was frustrated, hornier than he'd ever been in his life, and annoyed beyond belief because of the combination of the two. He was also on the verge of panic. He'd never taken anything like this before, so he had no idea how it was going to react to him, he was only about an hour and a half into its effects. 

"Jensen I'm so fucking sorry, I wasn't thinking about you not having anyone.... to.... you know..." Jensen narrowed his eyes at him in a death glare. Jared threw his arms up, and backed up a few steps. 

"Well guess who gets to explain to Richard why I can't do this scene today?" Jensen says, voice filled with humorless venom. 

Jared looked at the ground, and nodded before looking back up at Jensen who's face and neck was slightly red in the tent. Palming himself through his robes subconsciously. Not looking at Jared at all anymore. Just leaning against the wall with his eyes shut next to the bedroom of the trailer. 

"Maybe I should take you to the hospital?" Jared asked sheepishly. Jensen through his hand up to shut him up. It was getting harder to concentrate. 

"Jared I'm not going to the hospital for this, you've lost your fucking mind." 

"Well if you can't get your... self... under control there you may have to." 

"Jared get the fuck out."

"But.."

Jensen said nothing just pointed to the front door. Jared nodded and walked out the door.  Jensen flopped down on the small couch where he kept his pillow for napping during takes. 

Grabbing a bottle of lotion from the table that y/n had left in there when she was there yesterday running lines with him. The thought of her made him ache even more. His mind is unable to focus on anything but her, and what she'd feel like wrapped around him. 

Groaning and running his hand down his face, he pulled his robe open, and freed himself from his boxers. Putting  a generous amount of lotion in his hand, then began to stroke his aching length. Getting desperate to find some relief. 

He'd only pumped himself about twice when there was another knock on his door. Fuck this was literally going to kill, or Jared, he wasn't sure yet. 

Your POV:

Reaching Jensen's trailer you still your nerves, reach up and knock on the door.... Nothing. Clif's SUV was still in the parking lot, so you knew he was still here. Just not answering the door. 

Reaching up you knock again a little louder. 

"Go away Jared!!" Finally came the muffled response through the trailer door. 

Taking a deep breath, and thanking God that he hadn't had some massive reaction, or had a heart attack from the medication you steel your nerves. 'You can do this.'

"Jensen let me in please." You yell back through the door. Silence for a moment, Just as you were about to pick the lock you heard his voice a little closer to the door. 

"Y/n go away, you don't want to see me right now." 

"Jensen please! I know what Jared did to you! Misha is talking to Richard right now! Let me in!"

Silence. 

"Don't make me pick the lock Jensen."

More silence. 

Just as you were about to pull the hairpin out of your pock to pick the lock on his trailer door, playing a hunter on TV had taught you how to pick a lock pretty well, you heard the latch unlock on the trailer. 

Opening the door yourself you see Jensen leaning against the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen section of the trailer. 

His face and neck were red, he had a light sheen of sweat still on his face. His breathing was a little heavier than normal. You could only see him from the chest down, seeing as he was standing behind the bar. 

"Are they going to cancel the scene for the rest of the day?" He asked. His voice is rough and low. The sound alone sends shock waves through your body. Landing somewhere in your core. 

"Yeah, we're off the hook until lunchtime." You tell him reaching over and locking the door behind you. His eyes following your every movement. "Jared and Misha are going to go ahead and shoot their coverage, that should give us about three hours for you to recover."

You start to undo your robe and slip it from your shoulders as you are talking. Your eyes never leave Jensen. He reaches down, obviously palming himself behind the counter. "Y/n... You don't have to do this....." 

Deliberately walking around the counter to him. His robe open, His chest showing bare for you to see. His black boxers barely cover his swollen length. Walking up to him you run your hand down his chest. A shiver visibly runs through him, and he leans himself into your touch. 

"Let me help you Jay, Jared already told Misha and myself that you don't have anyone that can help you. You don't want to end up in the hospital."

Leaning his head down on your shoulder for a moment. Taking a deep breath before wrapping his arms around your waist. 

"Y/n I don't want you to do this because you feel sorry for me." He said, not looking at you, just pulling you closer to him. Your chest now against his. His breathing is getting deeper. 

"Jensen I would do this regardless if Jared drugged your ass or not. Have you seen you lately?" You say jokingly. Trying to make light of his situation. 

Grabbing his hand you pull him toward the open door of the bedroom of his trailer. He follows you silently without a fuss. Pulling the bedroom door shut behind the two of you. 

You lay down on the bed and back yourself up against the headboard with Jensen hot on your heels. His eyes lust blown. Deciding it was no use to fight it. If he didn't do something to get himself off he was going to lose his fucking mind. 

Crashing his lips into your his kissed you deep, fully of passion and need. His tongue sliding easily into your lips. Expertly gliding over your own. A moan rose low in your throat, and that spurred him on. 

Making his way down your jaw line, to your pulse points on your neck, nipping and marking the skin there as he went. 

Reaching around behind you, you arched your back so that he could quickly unlatch your bra. Jerking it away and throwing it across the small room. Taking a moment to look down over you exposed chest. Gently running his fingers between your cleavage as he admired you. Outside your breast. From one to the other before leaning down and gently sucking on each nipple. Making them stand on end for him. Your body arching into his, sucking in a deep breath. 

He hissed as your body pressed against him. Ripping your panties off, and throwing them across the room with your bra before removing his boxer. He quickly lined himself up with you. Slipping just the tip inside your already dripping core. 

"You sure baby? I don't want to do this if you don't want to. I'll just go to the ER if it gets worse." 

Putting your lips to his to silence his worrying, you run your fingers through his short hair as your mouth moves smoothly with his. 

Deliberately he slides himself fully into you with one swift thrust. Both of you groaning as he fills and stretches you in a way no man has ever. Visibly shaking as he holds himself still, giving you a moment to adjust to him. Kissing you deeply before pulling himself almost all the way out, and sliding back in. 

The sensation of his manhood dragging along the inside of your walls was almost enough to send you over the edge right there. You dig your nails into his shoulders and arching your back into him as he finds a steady rhythm. Both of you are touching and feeling all of each other that you could reach. He kept his body pressed close to yours. His hips hitting your clit just right every time he slid himself home. 

Over and over again he repeated his steady rhythm, not faulting once. Building you higher and higher. The coil winding tighter and tighter in your belly. 

"Jensen.. Fuck.... I'm close..." With that you were thrown over the edge walls tightening around his pulsing length. Grunting loudly he worked you at a steady pace through your high. Picking up the pace casing his own. 

Slamming his hips into you faster until he was pounding into you at a punishing pace. Then starting to falter his body jerked above you and inside of you as he spilled seed deep inside of you. Moaning loudly into your shoulder. Slowly trusting himself into you as he road out his own high. Finally stilling inside of you. 

Rolling you both over to your sides before pulling out of you. Kissing you a lot calmer now. Sweeter. Taking his time exploring your mouth, you hands tracing the outline of the curves in your body that you honestly hated. He treated it like it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

You don't know how long the two of you laid there. Just holding each other as your hearts went back to a normal pace.

"How are you feeling now?" You asked him quietly as he ran his fingers through your hair. Peppering you with little kisses. 

He shrugged. 

"Don't know, ask me again in about 15 minutes. They say that shit he gave me last up to four hours. I still have almost three hours to go...."

"Well.... we're just going to stay here and take care of you until you feel better. Good practice for the scene today..."

Giggle a little with you he pressed his forehead to yours. Taking a deep breath. 

"Y/n... I'm a pretty fuck up person. I'm not walking out of that marriage completely fine,  but if you will have me, I really don't want this to be just a fling because Jared is a jackass."

You felt your heart flutter in your chest. You couldn't help the stupid smile that spread across your face as you brushed your lips over his soft pink ones. 

"I think I can handle whatever you have to dish out Ackles."

"Well in that case remind me to thank Jared for being a fucking asshole and drugging my ass." He said with a laugh. You could feel his body already responding to you as he quickly began to harden again. 

"Yeah, I'm going to have to send him a fucking thank you card."

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Tag List:

@deanwanddamons @imabitch4jensen @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278​

[aqua-murphys-law]

when it rains

Rating: K+ Warnings: panic attacks, breakdowns, self-depreciating thoughts Summary:

i’m only honest when it rains if i time it right, the thunder breaks when i open my mouth i wanna tell you but i don’t know how

~*~

With a life like Milo’s, it’s only a matter of time before he can’t just grin and bear it anymore. Some times are less convenient than others.

A/N: This started out as a purely self-indulgent “let Milo get angry and upset” whump fic, but hooooo boy there’s a lot to unpack now. My headcanons just will not give me a break. But hey, y’all get a +6k word fic out of the deal, so enjoy!

Check replies for a link to read on A03 for full tags, cause Tumblr hates links apparently! - Aqua

~*~

Of all the ways Milo Murphy has traveled to school, clinging to the top of a runaway ice cream stand that’s surfing a massive wave of pistachios is certainly one of the more palatable ones.

Hah, palatable- he almost makes the joke out loud, but between Zack’s screaming and Melissa’s shrieking laughter and the roar of wind and veering traffic in their ears, they probably won’t hear him. He files that pun away for later and turns his focus to their inevitable stopping; there’s a fountain up ahead that’s about the right height.

Adjusting his grip, Milo climbs over to the side of the stand, throwing its weight to the left. That changes its trajectory just enough to crash right into the fountain, tipping them and all the stand’s contents over into the small ocean of pistachios below. It’s like falling into a ball pit- if the balls in ball pits were tiny green nuts with miscellaneous ice cream sundae ingredients scattered about. Either way, it’s a soft enough landing, and the momentum carries them further down the road before the ground flattens out and they finally roll to a stop.

As fate would have it, the tidal wave of debris has carried them right to the school crosswalk, minutes before first bell. There’s a small group of their classmates waiting to cross, gaping at the wreckage. Milo picks himself out of the mess and dusts his knees off before helping Zack to his feet.

“Watch out for the banana peels,” Milo cautions. “They’re just as slippery in real life as they are in cartoons.”

Zack catches his breath. “Dude, that was kinda awesome.”

Milo’s heart swells happily, and he grins. “I’d say that’s one of our most palatable adventures yet.”

Zack’s eyes light up as he catches on, nudging Milo with his elbow. “It sherbet was!”

“No puns this early in the morning,” Melissa groans, picking pistachios out of her hair.

Milo digs a brush out of his backpack and hands it to her. “Sorry, Melissa,” he says good-naturedly.

“Yeah, sorry,” Zack says, “we know you don’t… cone-done that behavior.”

Milo hides a laugh behind his hand while Melissa lightly punches Zack’s arm before continuing to brush out the pistachios. Then he takes a second to look over the damage again, double-checking no one got caught in the crossfire. It’s a good thing the stand hadn’t been open yet when that freighter full of pistachios exploded-

“Stop! Milo.”

Milo looks over at the familiar voice, smiling. “Hi, Elliot.”

As always, the crossing guard is brandishing his stop sign at them. His attention seems to be split between staring at Milo and staring at the heap of food in the street.

Melissa rolls her eyes. “We’re already stopped,” she points out, passing the brush back to Milo. “You know, just a group of middle school kids, waiting for the crossing guard to help them cross the street?”

“Yeah,” Zack adds, “your job?”

Elliot makes a disbelieving sound. “What, the giant mountain of walnuts hasn’t stopped traffic enough as it is?”

“Actually, they’re pistachios,” Milo says helpfully, tucking the brush away. “And sure, but it’s really best to wait for authorized personnel to formally halt the flow of traffic using proper signage instead of taking your chances.”

“I know that!” Elliot protests, sounding irritable. He holds the stop sign out, gesturing with his other hand for them all to cross. “Alright, move it along, people…”

Milo is happy to do so, leaving Elliot’s grumbling behind. It’s always a good morning when he actually makes it to school, and on time. Walking beside him, Melissa’s already whipped her phone out to share the pictures she took during all the excitement, snickering at the way Zack’s eyes widen. Milo chuckles to himself; how she manages to get such incredible shots, he’ll never know.

They reach the sidewalk on the other side without incident. He can hear the echoes of sirens from responding emergency vehicles starting up across town and knows they’ll be at the scene in a couple minutes. That makes him feel better about heading inside before they arrive, though he laments the fact that he won’t get to thank them personally-

“You know, Murphy, these catastrophes would be a lot more bearable if you took them seriously.”

Milo pauses, tilting his head. Melissa and Zack are already frowning at Elliot, but he wants to make sure he’s accurately identified the disdain in Elliot’s voice and isn’t just missing sarcasm again.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

Elliot folds his arms with a huff, his stop sign sticking out at an angle. “I mean, you walk around with that grin on your face, brushing everything off like it’s no big deal.” He scowls at Milo over his glasses. “Do you even care about all the chaos you leave in your wake?”

Milo blinks, his smile faltering. Is that the impression people get from him?

Zack steps forward. “Hey man, back off,” he snaps at Elliot.

“Yeah,” Melissa chimes in, folding her arms, “you’re just bitter because people keep assuming you’re in your thirties.” She jerks her chin over at the doors. “Come on, Milo.”

Milo manages to smile again, but it feels strained. “Elliot, I can assure you that I understand the severity of Murphy’s Law,” he says carefully, moving to follow Melissa up the rest of the stairs.

“Well, you certainly don’t act like it,” Elliot gripes after them, a parting jab.

Milo should let it go, he knows he should. This is just how Elliot is; there’s no way somebody so pathologically obsessed with safety would ever see Milo as anything more than a hazard. But this is more than simply placing blame on him for Murphy’s Law. That, he’s used to. He can handle that.

What he can’t stand for is the implication that he doesn’t care when people get hurt. Not when he works so hard to avoid it- often at the expense of his own wellbeing. If he only worried about himself, Murphy’s Law would be exponentially easier to deal with. Most people don’t realize that.

He stops walking, turning to look Elliot dead in the eye. “What’s the alternative?” he asks, his face blank and voice held carefully neutral.

Elliot’s clearly surprised at the question. He hesitates, shooting a wary look at Melissa and Zack, before he manages a shrug. “I don’t know, just some indication that you’re actually sorry for everything going wrong all the time?”

Milo’s grip on his backpack goes white-knuckled. “You think I should feel sorry?” he asks quietly.

Elliot flounders for a second. “I, uh… well, yes?”

It’s one thing for Milo to impulsively feel responsible for any destruction caused by Murphy’s Law, before he can remind himself that it’s not his fault. But it’s another thing entirely for someone to tell him that he should feel that way, all the time.

“What would you like me to do?” he presses. “Walk around with my head hung low, overcome with guilt every time Murphy’s Law happens? Apologize constantly when the majority of the people in my life have been dealing with it for years? Or- or beat myself up over something I can’t change or control?”

Elliot’s eyes widen, his brows shooting up to his hairline. “Now listen, that’s not exactly what I said-”

“But it’s what you meant, right?” Milo asks in a voice he doesn’t recognize. It’s white-hot with anger, and he can feel the glare that’s drawing his eyebrows down into a point, the way it’s narrowing his eyes. It’s an unfamiliar expression.

Oh, this is dangerous territory. Anger isn’t safe; it clouds the mind and fosters rash decisions, preventing one from thinking clearly. He can’t afford to have his judgement skewed, his reaction time hampered by the distraction of wrestling emotions under control. Not here, when there’s so many people around who could get hurt by his inability to act if something were to happen.

Melissa tugs Milo by the arm, trying to pull him away. “Milo, come on, he’s not worth it,” she says, her voice low and urgent.

The concern in her voice pricks at him. He’s aware, to some degree, that they’ve attracted an audience; the other kids that crossed with them are lingering, whispering to each other. He’s aware that his heart is starting to race and his skin feels flushed, the unpleasant physical effects of anger. And he’s especially aware of Zack’s gaze on him, what he must be thinking of the whole situation.

But Milo abruptly finds that he doesn’t care. Maybe that should concern him, too.

Elliot holds up his hands, something akin to panic flashing across his face. “Hey, look, I didn’t-”

“If I let myself feel bad every time Murphy’s Law happened, I’d never stop,” Milo says sharply. “Do you realize that? You’re only exposed to Murphy’s Law in the brief moments I’m around you. But for me, it never ends. It doesn’t have a weekly schedule, it doesn’t take days off. It doesn’t even stop when I’m asleep. And I will be dealing with it for the rest of my life.”

A horrible silence follows, even Elliot seeming lost for words.

Chills erupt across Milo’s skin. The fiery anger inside him suddenly extinguishes, leaving him cold and hollow. He’s struck with the realization that in his lashing out, he’s only just upset himself more. Because he doesn’t like to think about the future, about how everything he’s experienced so far in his short life is just the tip of the iceberg, and there he goes, now he’s thinking about it-

Something wet runs down his cheek.

Instinctively, Milo looks up to find the source. But there aren’t any clouds in the sky threatening a sudden downpour, no leaky pipes or anything else to drip water on him. Brows knitting in confusion, he absently reaches a hand up to his face.

Then his eyes start to sting as his vision blurs, and it hits him.

He’s crying.

… he’s crying?

A sound gets choked in his throat, something that sounds suspiciously like a whimper. Horror sweeps through him but it’s rapidly being outdone by the overwhelming hysteria.

Oh no. No, no, no, he can’t be crying, not here. He stumbles away from Elliot, his backpack hitting the stair railing with a soft thud, and presses the heels of his palms against his burning eyes. Stop, stop, stop! Colors bloom behind his closed lids, intensifying as he increases the pressure until it’s almost painful, desperately willing the tears to go away.

He’s not supposed to be crying at school. If there’s anything more distracting than anger, it’s crying. There are too many people around him, something could go wrong at any second and he won’t be able to protect them like this- something could be going wrong right now and he won’t notice because he’s too busy falling to pieces.

Panic kicks in, and the harsh echo in his ears tells him he’s hyperventilating. That’s definitely not helping, but the part of him that realizes this is remarkably absent, like he’s become disconnected from his own body.

The rest of him is pretty sure he’s about to die. And not in the way he’s familiar with.

Two hands circle his wrists, pulling them down from his eyes in a grip that’s gentle yet firm. Melissa’s face swims into focus.

~*~

Melissa searches Milo’s face, her heart sinking.

“Milo?” she tries. “You okay?”

Milo doesn’t respond, but he squeezes his eyes shut, sending a few more tears streaking down his face. She can feel his pulse jumping under the scarred skin of his wrists. His heartbeat, normally so steady, is running fast and erratic.

Something is very wrong.

“Woah, uh, is he okay?” Elliot asks, alarmed.

“You don’t get to talk,” Melissa hisses at him before turning back to Milo. It’s incredibly hard to push her anger down, but she has to, for his sake. “Milo,” she says, softer, “it’s me. You’re alright. We’re gonna go somewhere else, okay?”

Milo still doesn’t respond, but he curls a little closer to her. Melissa takes a second to shoot a warning look at the other kids gathered around. “Give us some space,” she orders them. And then, “Zack, you’re with me.”

They must hear the barely restrained fury in her voice, because the doors are cleared in record time. Zack unfreezes and swiftly places himself on the other side of Milo, his hands fidgeting like he isn’t sure what to do with them.

Gently, Melissa starts leading Milo up the stairs, into the school. Thankfully, he follows. He seems to be in a daze, too focused on his internal panic to take notice of what’s going on around him. Melissa is suddenly very grateful that she and Zack are here, because if Milo were alone in such a state, he wouldn’t be able to protect himself from any Murphy’s Law incidents.

Speaking of Zack, the other boy has moved slightly in front of them, paving a way through the various students still lingering in the halls before class.

“Where to?” he asks over his shoulder, voice tight with worry.

“Somewhere quiet and out of the way.”

“Under the stairwell?”

Melissa follows Zack’s gaze to the stairwell before nodding swiftly. They make a beeline for it, swerving only to avoid a ceiling tile that drops out of its frame above them. She catches the edge of it with her shoe and sends it skidding along the floor, out of the way. Serves it right.

She ducks under the stairwell, careful to pull Milo down after her so he doesn’t hit his head. The little alcove is a bit dusty, but it’s quiet and away from prying eyes, so it’ll do. She shrugs her backpack off and sits against the wall, taking Milo’s weight.

He leans on her heavily, like he doesn’t have the energy to hold himself upright. She’s tempted to slip off his backpack as well, since that’s probably accounting for a third of his weight right now, but she knows that would only make him panic further.

He’s still breathing way too fast for her liking, blinking rapidly to try and fight back tears. The glassy look in his eyes is so unlike him, it makes her heart clench painfully.

Zack’s voice hovers anxiously somewhere above her. “Has this happened before?”

“Not in public,” Melissa answers shortly. Then she swallows hard and forces her voice to come out calm and gentle. “Hey Milo, you with me?”

It takes a second for Milo to find her eyes, trembling all the while.

Melissa holds his gaze, pouring as much reassurance into it as she can. “Good, that’s good. Zack’s here with us. Is that alright?”

Milo doesn’t look over at Zack, but he manages a nod.

“Okay,” Melissa murmurs. She takes a quick look to make sure no one’s wandering by the stairwell before turning back to Milo. “We’re alone now, just us three. We’re safe.” She takes a deep breath. “Go ahead.”

Milo’s face crumples. “Melissa-”

He finally breaks, burying his face in her shoulder. His sobs are partially muffled by her jacket- which is quickly becoming damp- but she can feel the force of each one, the way his chest heaves for breath. He holds her arms like his life depends on it, pressing close to her as if he’s trying to hide away from the world.

Even though she’s preparing herself for it, hearing him cry brings a fresh wave of tears to her own eyes. Stubbornly, she stares up at the ceiling until they recede. She can’t break down right now. Milo needs her.

Think about something else, something funny. Like how great it’s going to feel to get Elliot back for this. There’s a petting zoo service nearby that rents out ducks. If she places an order soon, she could probably get them before Monday. How many ducks is too many, she wonders?

“So hey, uh, what’s going on?” Zack’s low murmur brings her out of the daydream. He’s looking at Milo with a stricken expression. “Is he going to be okay?”

Melissa exhales, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face. “He will be,” she says softly. “He’s just overwhelmed.”

Zack runs a hand through his hair. “Is- is there anything I can do?” he asks helplessly.

There isn’t much, but she can tell just from looking at him that his anxiety is skyrocketing right now, on the verge of his own panic attack. Giving him something, anything else to focus on might help.

“Keep people off us, and watch for any trouble,” Melissa decides.

It’s strange to think that she’s only known this boy for a few months, yet she’d trust him with hers and Milo’s wellbeing. But Zack’s proven he can handle Murphy’s Law, and she knows he’ll protect them with everything he’s got.

She’s proven right when Zack’s expression hardens, and he nods. Turning around, he goes to stand at the mouth of the alcove, blocking her and Milo from view of the hallway. His hands twitch at his sides, ready to act. Just like that.

Not for the first time, Melissa is thankful that Zack became their friend. Milo chose well.

And speaking of Milo, the panic seems to have finally ebbed. Now it’s just regular crying, without the hyperventilating and shaking. The knot in her stomach loosens, but only slightly- they aren’t out of the woods yet.

Gently, she drums her fingers along his spine, beating a soothing rhythm against the body armor he wears under his clothes. The muffled thuds are too light for him to feel; it’s really just so he has a sound to focus on. She’s found that helps, in the past.

But she doesn’t try to shush him. Now that he’s actually crying, he needs to get it all out. She tries to imagine that her arms around Milo are a safety net, allowing him to be vulnerable without fear. She hopes he can pick up on it.

The next several minutes pass in relative calm- if holding your friend while he has a breakdown can be considered calm. A couple times, Melissa catches wind of something going on in the hallway, some likely improbable object coming their way. But thanks to Zack’s vigilance, nothing comes close, letting her focus all her attention on Milo.

It’s not long after second bell when Milo starts to come back to himself. His grip on her arms tightens and then immediately slackens, and the next breath he takes is a deep one, though it shudders on the exhale.

There are a couple moments where Milo is still and quiet, just the occasional sniffle as his breathing evens out. Then he pulls back enough to look at Melissa, his eyes red and teary but no longer vacant.

“Melissa?” he breathes, his voice small.

Melissa lets out a sigh of relief, managing a tired smile. “There you are.”

“Hey, buddy.” As relieved as Melissa feels, Zack sounds about a hundred times more so. He kneels down next to them, his hand once again awkwardly hovering over Milo’s shoulder before retreating. “How you feeling?”

Milo glances around, taking in their surroundings. Melissa can almost see the moment realization hits; his mouth presses into a tight line before he looks away, wiping at his eyes. “Guys, I- I am so sorry-”

“Don’t you dare,” Melissa cuts him off sternly.

Milo swallows hard, tucking his knees to his chest. “But it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have lost my cool back there,” he mumbles guiltily. “It was just Elliot being, y- you know, Elliot, and I got-”

“Rightfully upset,” Melissa finishes for him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, dude, you’ve got nothing to apologize for,” Zack agrees.

Milo’s smile is thin, but his eyes are thoughtful. Melissa hopes they’ve gotten through to him. She isn’t going to push it any more, though, not right now.

“Now, c’mon, let’s get off the floor,” she says, straightening up. “My legs are falling asleep.”

Milo accepts the hand she offers him, letting her pull him up and out from under the stairwell. He looks a little shaky on his feet, his face still paler than normal, but he jolts when he notices the clock.

“Oh no, we’re late for first period. We’d better-”

“Nuh uh.” Melissa holds fast to his arm. “After a bout like that, you need to go home and rest.”

Milo hesitates. “I miss so much school already…”

Melissa shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. Mental health days are included under excused absences, you know. We’ll let the teachers know and grab your homework for you.”

“Seriously, it’s alright,” Zack says softly.

Milo studies them both before nodding. “Okay,” he relents. “Thanks.”

Melissa whips out her phone to text his mom. As she does so, she notices Milo is starting to lean against Zack for support. The other boy doesn’t seem to mind, his arm automatically shifting around Milo’s shoulders. It seems his earlier reservations are gone, now that Milo’s sought out the contact. It’s a cute sight.

“Alright,” Melissa tucks her phone away, “your mom’s on her way over. I asked her to meet us in the back lot, just in case the jerk-who-shall-not-be-named is still skulking around.”

Milo nods slightly, giving her a grateful smile before his gaze lowers again.

Now that he’s given up on toughing out the day, he’s starting to withdraw. He doesn’t always go nonverbal after a crying spell, but the panic attack has to have done a number on him.

They aren’t common for Milo, panic attacks. Melissa knows his stress response is… highly abnormal. Even before she met him, he’d been living in a constant state of stress for years. She’s not sure if he’s learned to tune it out, or if his body has just stopped responding to common stressors by this point. But she knows he rarely gets a physical reaction to danger, that ‘fight or flight’ response that spikes you up with adrenaline.

This is clearly a different ball game. The only time she can recall anything remotely similar to this happening was the first time she got seriously hurt by Murphy’s Law. And it didn’t even happen on the spot; he hadn’t broken down until visiting her in the hospital after the fact.

That was a long time ago, but it left quite the impression. The hyperventilating and shaking, she remembers. And that distant, glassy expression. It was something she hoped she’d never have to witness again, but of course, life has other plans.

Not that she blames Milo for it. After all, however difficult this is for her, it’s much, much worse for him. Losing control of his emotions hits him hard, because his life is already so out of control as it is. The one thing he should always have control over is himself, but he doesn’t.

And even though she’s long since made peace with the idea that life isn’t fair, this feels particularly, especially unfair. With all the danger Murphy’s Law brings, Milo shouldn’t have to deal with guilt, judgmental crossing guards, or a misplaced sense of responsibility so severe that he feels like he isn’t even allowed to cry.

Her expression must be troubled, because Milo lightly bumps against her arm. By the time she looks over, he’s already averted his gaze again- eye contact is probably a bit much for him right now- but she appreciates the gesture anyways.

‘Don’t worry,’ he seems to be saying.

Well… she can try not to, for his sake.

~*~

Zack can’t help stealing glances at Milo as they make their way down the hall.

He knows he shouldn’t be staring, because Milo doesn’t seem too keen on eye contact at the moment. It’s just hard to resist the urge to check up on him. Most of Zack’s focus was on keeping Murphy’s Law at bay, so he couldn’t really keep tabs on how the situation was going.

He can’t shake how jarring it was to see Milo like that. It’s a very good thing Melissa was there to snap him into action, because if she hadn’t, he probably would’ve just stood there frozen like a complete idiot, not helping the situation at all.

And how sad is that? Milo saves Zack over and over again, every time disaster strikes, but the one time Milo really needs him, Zack’s totally useless.

He should’ve seen that the conversation was going south and shut it down. He should’ve stood up for Milo more, or tried to get him out of the situation. He should’ve-

There’s a slight tug at the hem of his shirt. When he turns his head, he finds Milo’s hand gripping there. Not pulling, or trying to get his attention- Milo’s facing straight ahead, eyes downcast. Just, holding. Whether it’s an attempt to give comfort or receive it, Zack’s not sure.

But it does give him something else to focus on, aside from the spiraling thoughts in his head, and he smiles softly. Just in case Milo can see it out of the corner of his eye.

It’s a good reminder; there’s no point in dwelling on the past. He needs to keep moving forward, like Milo does.

They reach the back doors without issue, and are greeted by an empty parking lot. Fortunately, there aren’t any late stragglers- aside from them, of course. It’s a nice day, not too cold, so Zack doesn’t mind waiting a few minutes. Maybe the fresh air will help Milo. It’s certainly helping Zack.

He lets out a deep breath, feeling a little better for it. Milo settles further against his side while they wait, his cheek pressed against Zack’s shoulder. That steals the breath Zack just got back, but that’s the least of his concerns right now.

He’s not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed when Mrs. Murphy’s car pulls into the lot. Milo perks up a bit, though still remains silent as his mother exits the car. She takes in Milo’s current state with no comment, just a sad, knowing look in her eyes, and Zack wonders if this is more common than he realized.

“You ready to go, honey?” she asks kindly.

Milo hesitates for a second, then turns and abruptly gives a hug to the both of them. It’s a quick thing, but Zack feels his face heat up immediately; Milo’s never hugged him before. And that thought is followed by his heart swelling almost painfully, because Milo’s never hugged him before. With that context, it’s a deeply touching gesture.

After stepping away, Milo darts over to his mom, hiding his face in her side. She smooths a hand over his hair, murmuring something too low for Zack to hear, before smiling at them gratefully. “Thanks, you two.”

“No problem, Mrs. Murphy,” Melissa replies. “Feel better soon, Milo.”

“Yeah, take it easy,” Zack calls after them.

The car pulls away, and Zack can see Diogee clambering into Milo’s lap before they’re out of view. That makes him feel a little better. Still, he sends a quick prayer to the universe that the car ride goes smoothly, without any Murphy’s Law incidents. Milo really deserves a break.

Next to him, Melissa stands motionless, watching the car leave. Zack clears his throat. “Well, we should probably head back…”

Melissa shakes her head, sitting down on the steps. “First period’s already half-over by now, no point in going.” She shrugs. “Plus, we need to talk this out, or it’ll turn into one of those weird unspoken things.”

“Oh.” Hesitantly, Zack sits down next to her. If Melissa is willing to play hooky, it must be important. “Alright, then.”

They sit in silence for a few moments, listening to the sounds of distant traffic. He’d been expecting Melissa to start the conversation, but she seems to be waiting for him, instead. Waiting to see what his reaction is.

It hadn’t taken long for Melissa to go from ‘Milo’s only other friend’ to ‘Milo and Zack’s friend.’ Once she warmed up to him, she’d moved right along to acting like they’d known each other for years. But they certainly haven’t had any deep, serious discussions before. He’s not quite sure how to proceed.

Zack rubs the back of his neck, feeling awkward. “So, uh… that happened.”

“Yep.” Melissa exhales heavily, but her expression is sympathetic. “I’m sorry you weren’t more prepared, it’s just that he tries to handle these things privately.”

Zack frowns. “These things? What do you mean?”

Melissa stares out over the parking lot, her brows knit together. “Milo breaks bones on a monthly basis. He comes away with some kind of injury on a near-daily basis. And the constant threat of danger plus the massive amount of effort required to deal with it would be enough to drive anyone to tears.”

“And…?” Zack prompts, confused.

Melissa glances at him out of the side of her eye. “Before now, have you ever seen him cry?”

Zack opens his mouth to reply, ‘Of course I have!’ because surely it would’ve happened at some point. He knows Milo gets hurt frequently, he’s watched it happen. But as he thinks about it, he can’t actually recall a time when tears were involved. Not even for broken bones.

“I… woah, you’re right,” Zack realizes, his stomach dropping.

Melissa nods grimly. “He doesn’t like crying. Says it messes with his ability to react to Murphy’s Law. So he just… doesn’t let himself cry, most of the time, no matter how hurt he gets. It’s been like that for as long as I’ve known him.”

It takes a second for the full implications to hit Zack. “Wait, didn’t you guys meet when you were six?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.” Zack swallows. They might be old enough now that crying isn’t as common, but Milo’s been like this since he was six, possibly younger. Zack himself was a bit of a crybaby at that age, even a skinned knee sending him into hysterics.

And sure, maybe it’s embarrassing to look back on, but that’s normal for little kids.

Milo didn’t get to have that.

“That’s… kinda sad,” Zack murmurs.

“I know,” Melissa sighs. “Of course, he can’t bottle it up forever. And crying is an important chemical release, it’s healthy. So he just puts it off until he’s safe at home, usually on a weekend. That way, he’s got his family there to look out for him, and he doesn’t have to worry about anyone else getting caught up in Murphy’s Law. I’ve only been there for a handful of them, but he probably goes for months in between. It’s… a lot of buildup.”

The pieces are starting to fall into place. Zack inhales sharply. “So, when he does finally let himself cry…”

Melissa gives him a thin smile. “Well, you know what they say. When it rains, it pours.” She wraps her arms around herself. “But this time was worse than normal, because he was having a panic attack on top of it. He really didn’t want to break down at school.”

Zack nods slowly, brows furrowing. “Wow. I had no idea.”

Melissa makes a noncommittal noise. “It’s not your fault, he doesn’t like people to know.”

Alarm shoots through Zack. This is a deeply personal aspect of Milo’s life. What if he wasn’t ready for Zack to see it? What if Zack’s intruding?

Melissa must have noticed the panic on his face, because she waves him off. “Don’t worry, him letting you stay was giving permission for me to tell you this. Just, people, in general. He puts a lot of work into staying upbeat all the time, and he doesn’t want that ruined by something like this.”

Zack chews on his lip, only slightly relieved. Quite a few people saw the beginning of the whole thing. “Is he gonna be okay? I know it was just some kids from class, but…”

“I think he will be,” Melissa says thoughtfully. “He’s been branching out a lot more this year, in terms of making friends.” She smiles faintly at him. “We’ve got you to thank for that.”

The sudden diverge throws Zack for a loop. “What do you mean?”

Melissa leans back on her elbows, contemplative. “I mean, if Milo and I started a band last year, Mort wouldn’t have dreamed of joining. If we’d been crazy enough to have a birthday party, no one would’ve come. For as long as all of us here can remember, Milo’s just had me. But seeing you give him a chance… I don’t know, I think it’s helped them realize they don’t have to stay so far away.”

Zack’s stunned. “I… guess I hadn’t thought about it.”

That’s an understatement. Zack found his place so readily within this new school that he hadn’t stopped to consider what things had been like before. He knows Milo didn’t have any close friends aside from Melissa, but had the other kids in class always been nothing more than scant acquaintances? Was it new for them to engage Milo in conversation or willingly be around him?

Then Zack thinks back to the day they met, at the bus stop. The way the other kids there had immediately scrambled away from Milo, expressions full of fear. And he’s pretty sure he knows the answer.

Melissa hums. “Yep. You’re a trendsetter.”

Zack rubs his arm, embarrassed. He really doesn’t deserve accolades just for giving Milo a chance. “So… do you cry often?” he ventures, changing the subject.

Melissa rolls her eyes at him. “I’d say a normal amount, for someone in my circumstances. Whenever I’m seriously hurt, you can bet I’m crying about it. Not everyone can just block out that kind of pain.” Her expression sobers. “But even on the emotional side of things, if there’s ever a particularly rough day, then yeah, I’ll go home and cry it out. It’s a good release.”

“Huh.” Zack scratches his head. “Gotta say, I’m a little surprised. You seem to handle Murphy’s Law so well, you know?”

Melissa snorts. “Yeah, only because I let myself cry every now and them. No one can deal with all that disaster and destruction without it getting to them. Not even Milo.”

“Fair point,” Zack amends.

“So, what about you?” Melissa elbows him. “C’mon, don’t be a hypocrite.”

Zack flushes. “I mean, yeah, sometimes,” he admits. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to be friends with Milo, but Murphy’s Law can be… stressful.” Particularly on top of his normal anxiety, but she doesn’t need to know that.

Melissa nods approvingly. “Good. Own it. Being part of a Murphy’s life has its ups and down. It also has its own set of rules.”

“Like what?” Zack asks, tilting his head.

“You need to make sure you relieve stress on a regular basis, whether that’s through crying or something else. And you need to relax on a regular basis, too. Not necessarily in that order,” she adds, as an afterthought.

Zack raises his eyebrows. “Oh, okay. Anything else I should be aware of?”

Melissa counts them off on her fingers. “Stay hydrated, get regular sleep, have a good amount of protein in the diet…”

“That just sounds like normal self-care stuff,” Zack points out flatly.

Melissa squints at him. “Touché.” Then she snaps her fingers. “Gargling salt water can help your throat recover from over-screaming. Oh, and Murphys are legally protected from being discriminated against by an accord written in the early 1900’s, so don’t be afraid to cite it. Also, Milo craves physical affection from those he’s close to, but he doesn’t feel he has the right to ask for it.”

Zack blinks. “Figure all this out yourself?”

“Nah, Mrs. Murphy had some tips.” Melissa’s humor fades. “Seriously though, I noticed your hesitation back there. That’s a good instinct, since plenty of people don’t like to be touched during panic attacks. But you don’t need to worry about it with Milo, that’s one of the few times he actually seeks out comfort.”

Zack jolts with surprise. He hadn’t though Melissa would pick up on that- at the time, he was hardly aware of what he was doing, himself. “Oh, alright then.”

“And just for the record,” Melissa’s expression turns mischievous, “if you were a little more forthcoming with physical affection on a day-to-day basis, I don’t think Milo would mind.”

Zack jumps to his feet like he’s been electrocuted, choking on air. “O- oh, sure, of course. Being close to Milo, I don’t have a problem with that, why would I have a problem with that?” he babbles, feeling his face heat up. “I mean, I don’t not have a problem with it, I mean, not more than the normal amount for two friends-” Okay, Zack, time to shut up now.

Melissa just snickers at him, standing up and dusting off her skirt. “C’mon, it’s about time to head in. Ready for a completely average, boring, uneventful day?”

Zack sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets with a rueful grin. “If we must.”

Maybe it’s not so bad to have a little time to process things, considering how much he has to process.

~*~

Milo’s only been curled up on the couch for a couple hours when his phone buzzes.

It’s a selfie from Melissa, in science class. She’s angled the phone to get Zack in the background of the shot; he’s clearly dozing, eyelids drooping as he rests his chin in his hand. Melissa’s giving the camera a knowing look, and the caption reads, ‘Someone’s missing you!’

Milo’s heart skips a beat. He quickly attributes it to surprise that Melissa is actually texting in class- though he knows she’s just checking in with him. It’s a thoughtful gesture, and he sends a couple emojis back. Words, even in text form, are still hard right now. But he knows she’ll understand, because she and Zack are the best friends a Murphy could ask for.

He’s lucky like that, to not have to weather this storm alone.

~*~

[toddtakefive]

Can I Have a Ride Home? I’m at a Party and I Don’t Know Any1

fandom(s): Gravity Falls, Over The Garden Wall

pairing(s): Pinescone , Mabcifica (mentioned)

words: 5314

rating: M (reasons listed in trigger warnings + swearing)

work type: One-shot , AU

tw(s): homophobia , use of slurs , violence and references to past violence

Also on AO3!!

Wirt wasn’t entirely sure how Sara had managed to drag him along with her to Senior Prom, hell he wasn’t even sure how she had managed to get a suit for him when he’d refused to go in for a fitting, but now he was standing in a crowded gym full of high-schoolers and he already wanted to leave. In his defense, they’d already been there an hour and that was an hour longer than he was at most parties.

If he was going to be completely honest, the party wasn’t that bad. Sure the music would cut off whenever there was a swear - everyone would still sing it anyways -, and sure the punch tasted weird, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad party as most parties go. The reason it was a bad party is because it was a party full of nothing but high-schoolers, and high-schoolers are scary. At least to Wirt.

He lost Sara twenty minutes ago -he’s honestly starting to think she’s underneath the bleachers flirting with the girl from her Chem class- and he’s getting bored so he pulls out his phone and starts typing a quick text to Dipper.

‘Bored. Wish you were here :/’.

The reply is immediate, 

‘Lol r u a postcard??’ ‘Wish I wre ther too <3 drving rigt now txt you lter′. 

The next text he receives is a picture taken by the person in the passenger seat, likely Mabel, with a peace sign while Dipper attempts to get his phone back without taking his eyes off the road. The caption for the photo is ‘road safety laws are bogus B)’. He laughs to himself. Yup, definitely Mabel.

He looks up at the sound of steps approaching, expecting it to be Sara but instead seeing evil incarnate. He takes in a deep breath before plastering on a fake smile.

“Hello, Trevor.” he says. 

Trevor Martin. No offense to the British actor Trevor Martin, of course, but Wirt fucking hates this guy. He’s book smart, Wirt’ll give him that, but that’s his only redeeming quality. Not only is he a totally fuckwad, but he has the audacity to say he’s not and try to date Sara, a very loud and proud lesbian. Like, dude, at least Jason Funderberker had the decency to back off when she came out. Plus, never trust a guy with a first name for a last name.

Trevor, wearing his slimy little smirk like he always does, doesn’t even meet Wirt’s eyes. “So, where’s Sara? I figured she’d be with you, you know, since you’re like her fucking boyfriend or whatever.”

Wirt scrunches his nose just slightly, he doesn’t want this situation to escalate more than it has to. “I’ve told you this a thousand times, Trevor. She is not my girlfriend.”

Trevor rolls his eyes, “Sure. You get pissed off that I’m trying to date her because you aren’t her boyfriend. Got it.”

Wirt shakes his head, “I get pissed off that you’re trying to date her because she’s a lesbian. Which is literally common knowledge, by the way.” he throws away his plastic cup and walks out into the hallway. Trevor, being an idiot in everything but school subjects, follows him into the hallway.

“She’s not a lesbian, she’s just saying that to get me to leave her alone.” Trevor explains, causing Wirt to roll his eyes as he walks.

“That’s not how that fucking works, Trevor. Besides, if a girl is literally resorting to faking being a lesbian to get you to leave her alone, maybe you just don’t know how to take a hint.”

He hears Trevor scoff, “Well she’s dating you, so she isn’t a lesbian.”

“She isn’t dating me! And you do know people can be bi, right?”

“If she isn’t dating you then why are you always talking about your relationship in World Civ?”

Wirt, just wanting this idiot to leave him alone already, stops walking abruptly and turns around. Trevor runs into him and falls back a little bit, he has a look on his face that Wirt thinks is his ‘gotcha’ face, but he’s really had enough of the whole ‘Wirt and Sara are dating in secret’ thing when they’re both very out homosexuals.

“Because I have a boyfriend, Trevor.” he deadpans, and sees that smug look fall off of Trevor’s face. God he loves the look of confusion that floods his features, it’s pure poetry.

“What?” Trevor asks, with all of his genius.

“The reason you hear me talking about my relationship -in conversations that didn’t involve you, by the way- is because I have a boyfriend. He lives in California.”

Trevor looks as though his entire world view just got re-shaped. He’s between wanting to believe and wanting to think it’s a prank, but, to Trevor, Wirt isn’t cool enough to pull a prank like this with a straight face.

The long minutes of silence is starting to get awkward, but just as Wirt is about to walk away Trevor speaks up again, “Wait so,” he pauses, “you’re a faggot?”

Wirt tenses immediately. That word. God he hates that word. The first time he heard it was when he came out to his biological dad when he and Dipper started dating back in Sophomore year. It wasn’t a great conversation, and Wirt vividly remembers the bloody nose he got out of it.

“I- uhm. Y-yeah. I- yeah.” Wirt stammers out. Trevor’s entire demeanor changes.

“Wait, what the fuck?” he says, distancing himself from Wirt by a couple inches. This causes Wirt to snap out of whatever funk he was in. He raises an eyebrow.

“Me having a boyfriend isn’t new information, Trevor. You’ve heard me get teased for talking about him before.”

“Yeah, but I thought they were joking! I didn’t think you were actually. You know.” he makes a wild hand gesture in Wirt’s direction.

“Gay?” Wirt asks with a furrowed brow.

“That! That. I didn’t think you were that.” Okay, now Wirt’s getting pissed. Obviously the use of the slur pissed him off, but not even being able to say the word gay? Come on, dude.

“Is there a problem with that?” He asks, crossing his arms. He’s not entirely sure where this newfound courage is coming from, but he can think about it later.

“No it’s just, dude have you been checking me out in the locker rooms and shit this whole time!” Trevor asks, his stance becoming defensive.

Wirt flinches back a bit at the question. “No. Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re.” Another wild hand gesture. Dude, just say the word.

Wirt sighs, “Gay. Right, yeah. We’ve established that. But I don’t go around creeping on the guys in the locker room. That would be fucking weird. And, again, I have a boyfriend, and you also aren’t my type so we’re covering all the bases of ‘I’d never do that’.”

Trevor takes a step forward that causes Wirt to take a step back, “I don’t believe you.” he says, voice lined with anger.

Wirt, quickly realizing he should have just walked away while Trevor was confused, holds his hands up in defense, “Good for you, but I don’t really care.” he glances over Trevor’s shoulder to see if he could make a break for the door. That idea is quickly thrown out the window when Trevor grabs Wirt by the collar. Wirt laughs a bit to himself, “You know, this looks kinda gay.”

Trevor’s hold on the front of his shirt tightens, he brings his hands up higher to make sure he isn’t touching the other boy anywhere, “Okay! Okay, okay, okay! Okay. Look, honestly man, never watched you while you were changing! I don’t think we’ve ever even had a P.E class together, if I’m being honest. And besides, I don’t think watching sweaty teenage boys change is that appealing. Especially not you, cause no offense you’re not really anyone’s type. At least not any gay persons type I mean! I’m sure some girl at the college you attend will think you’re hot, she’ll probably have kinda low standards but a girlfriend’s a girlfriend, right? And she’ll marry you right outta college, and you’ll become a fucking accountant or something else just as soul sucking, and you’ll have two kids, and a dog, and feel free to cut me off whenever you like.”

There’s a crunch and a massive amount of pain that makes Wirt stop talking. His head is spinning faster than a tornado, but he knows the feeling of hitting the school floor well enough to know it happens somewhere within the time he gets punched in the face a second time and kicked in the stomach the first.

He’s not entirely sure how long he’s on the floor, but he does know that when he finally opens his eyes Trevor is standing above him, heaving, staring at his own hands like they’re covered in blood- oh they are. That is blood. That is definitely blood. That’s a lot of blood. Wow.

Wirt pushes himself off of the ground, there’s an ache in every fiber of his being but the floor is cold and dirty and he’d rather not be down there right now. As he rises, slowly, he can see a steady drip of blood coming down from his face. That’s not good.

By the time he’s fully standing, Trevor looks ready to burst. “Wirt! Oh my god, dude. I am so fucking sorry, I didn’t. I don’t know why I. I never. Fuck I didn’t, I just, shit are you fucking okay?” the questions are rapid fire. Wirt’s a little too out of it to be able to tell if they’re genuine or not, and he doesn’t really care if they are at this point. This guy eats paste.

“Trevor.” Wirt finally says, “Shut the fuck up.” his words are slurred, and it’s obvious he’s still scared if the tremor in his voice is anything to go by, but he really just needs it to be quiet right now. To his credit, Trevor does shut up, but he just stands there.

There they are, two guys standing in a hallway, five feet apart cause one just beat the shit out of the other for being gay. Prom night is great. In his delirious state, Wirt can faintly hear ‘Lover Is a Day’ by Cuco playing from the gym. The beats pulse under his feet, and it’s just adding onto the pain right now.

After maybe five minutes, Trevor speaks up again. “Wirt I really am sorry, dude. I don’t know why I did that. I was pissed and you wouldn’t shut up and I didn’t what else to do! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Trevor hits the locker to his right with the side of his fist. The sound rings through the otherwise empty hall, and Wirt just stares at the first still on metal.

Wirt runs a hand through his hair, “That’s great and everything, but was the getting on top of me and repeatedly punching me in the nose necessary? Or, you know, any of it? You just fucking committed a hate crime dude, do you even realize that?” he’s talking slowly, his voice is tired and he would rather be anywhere else.

“I know! I know it was! But it honestly didn’t have anything to do with you being,” he pauses, and Wirt is about to finish for him before he continues on his own, “Gay. It didn’t have to do with you being gay, okay. I just. I have like severe anger issues. It’s some fucking long ass name, but the shortened thing is IED. It’s not really something I have any control over, and it’s been a while since I’ve had an episode that bad, and I promise it has nothing to do with you being gay or anything! That fucking chill, man! This stuff literally just happens, I swear on my motherfucking yeezys!” Wirt, who is finally coming back down to Earth and is able to process English language again, raises his brow, “ Okay, I don’t own yeezys, but you know what I mean.” He looks down to the floor, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Wirt sighs, wiping under his nose with his suit sleeve. It doesn’t help, the blood keeps flowing and now his suit is ruined. Fuck Prom night, dude. “Look, Trevor. If you actually have a genuine mental illness that does that, you get a fucking pass on the beating the shit out of me part.” Trevor flinches at that, “But you’re still kinda homophobic dude.”

Trevor looks up from the ground, “What? How?”

Wirt shrugs, crossing his arms again. “Assuming someone isn’t a lesbian when they say they are is pretty high on the list. Actually, assuming a gay guy is checking people out while they’re changing is also pretty high on the list. Both of the things you said are pretty high on the list, actually.”

This time it’s Trevor who furrows his brow, “But she isn’t a lesbian. I asked her why she thought she was a lesbian a couple weeks ago and she said it’s because she thinks girls are hot and that she wouldn’t mind kissing them, but that’s normal. Like, I know a couple guys in my classes that I wouldn’t mind kissing or like fucking or something and I’m not gay or whatever. Everyone thinks like that.”

Wirt’s mind just fucking imploded on itself. He’s joking. He has to be joking. Oh fuck he is not joking. Oh dear. Wirt cringes to himself, “Oh Jesus.” he whispers, “Trevor, you do know that isn’t a universal thing, right? Like, you know not every guy would be fine with fucking another guy, right?”

“Wait, really?” Trevor asks, his voice quiet. Wirt simply nods and watches as Trevor seems to contemplate his whole existence in front of him. “But I’m not. My mom told me that I couldn’t be gay, I just needed to find the right girl and it would be fine. I don’t like guys like that, I’m not.”

Fuck, why does Wirt have empathy. If he was a dick he could just walk away from this situation and not feel a thing, but he can’t leave this guy in a crisis. Even if he did just beat his ass.

“Trevor, why do you like Sara?”

“She’s funny, and kinda cool, I guess. I just want to hang out with her more, plus my friends kept saying I should go for it, so I figured why not.”

“Dude, you just want to be her fucking friend. That’s, what you want is a friendship. Jesus dude, you don’t even actually like her do you?”

Trevor shrugs, “I don’t know. I mean, she’s cool and everything.”

“Would you kiss her.” Wirt asks.

“What?” 

“Would you kiss Sara. Or any girl for that matter.” He asks again, slower this time.

Trevor rolls his eyes, giving Wirt a look that suggest the answer should be obvious, but when he opens his mouth, no words come out. It stays open for about ten seconds before he frowns. “No I. I wouldn’t” he lets out a dry laugh void of humor. “Holy shit, I fucking wouldn’t. What the fuck.”

Wirt sighs taking a few steps over to Trevor, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Go home, Trevor. You have had more than enough action tonight.” his hand slides off and he turns around to find the nearest bathroom, he about to round a corner when he remembers something and looks over at Trevor, who hasn’t moved an inch, “Try to refrain from using the f-slur before you figure out your whole mess, maybe?” He gives the other boy a quick smile before walking away.

The nearest bathroom is way too fucking far away, in Wirt’s humble opinion. And why are half of the lights off in these hallways? God, he feels like the character about to die in a horror movie. Thankfully, the light switch in the bathroom was easy to find so he isn’t completely in the dark.

He grabs some paper towels and wets them, and then he finally looks in the mirror. Jesus fucking Christ.

Trevor did a number on him, and if it were any other situation that required less brain power he would be kinda impressed. His nose is definitely broken, if the aching and gushing blood are any indicator, he’s got a black eye, a busted lip, bruises across his face and collarbone -and if the amount of times he was kicked in the stomach is as many as it felt, he’s got them there too- and, the cherry on fucking top, his suit jacket ripped a little bit.

His phone buzzes in his pocket as he finishes wiping the blood from his face, but his nose is still bleeding. Pulling his phone out of his back pocket he finds two new messages. One from Sara, saying she scored with the girl from her chem class and that she has a date next Saturday, and one from Dipper saying they’ve finally stopped driving.

Wirt texts Sara back congratulating her on her suaveness that she most definitely didn’t have (see: nearly puked on a cute girl for complimenting her shoes once) before opening up his texts with Dipper and taking a picture in the mirror holding up a peace sign. He masterfully captions the photo: ‘babys first hate crime <3′. 

His phone rings immediately.

He picks up right away, and is greeted with a very frantic, “Where are you?” there’s faint music in the background, they must be at their dance right now.

“Uhm. The bathroom in hallway E, I think. Why?” Wirt asks, throwing away the bloody paper towels.

“We’re on our way.” Is all he gets in response.

“What? You’re in California how are you supposed to. Did he fucking hang up on me?” Wirt pulls his phone away from his ear, “Wow, okay.” He pockets his phone and stares at himself in the mirror for a few seconds. It’s gonna suck having to explain this to anybody, and he knows his mom will go full Godzilla mode on the school board if he tells the truth, but he can’t just out someone. Fuck, man.

The door to the bathroom swings open and two rapid sets of footsteps approach him, he’s almost expecting to be beaten up again until he’s turned around and hugged tightly. His confusion only lasts for a second when his land on Mabel, but then it flares up again because what the fuck that’s Mabel.

He pushes away from the person hugging him and is met with a person he both did and did not expect to see.

“Dipper.” He not shocked that Dipper did actually find hallway E, they broke in last summer to investigate if the place is actually haunted (it is), so he learned the layout pretty well in that instance, but he’s shocked that he’s even in the room. “Wait. Am I concussed? Is this a hallucination?”

“Er, wrong!” Mabel says, pushing Dipper out of the way and hugging Wirt tighter than a strait jacket. He lets out a sound of pain and she lets him go immediately. “Sorry! I forgot you’re like, dying right now.”

“Not dying, per se, but getting there if my nose doesn’t stop bleeding soon. I didn’t even know I had this much blood, if I’m being honest.” Mabel laughs a bit and wow did he miss that sound. He missed them, really. It’s always better when they’re around.

“What happened?” Dipper’s voice finally enters the conversation, and it makes his heart flutter but also reminds him the situation in which they’ve been reunited. Especially if the pissed off tone is anything to go by.

Wirt shrugs, “I got into a fight?”

Dipper gives him a look, “You called it a hate crime, before.”

Wirt laughs, “Yeah, I know. But it wasn’t, technically? I don’t know I’m still having trouble processing the whole ordeal. But I just got into an argument with Trevor, you know who I’m talking about, and he got really mad so he fucking beat the shit out of me and,” Dipper turns to walk out the door but Wirt pulls him back by the arm, “don’t walk away, I’m not done yet. He has a thing called IED, or something? He didn’t know the full medical name for it, but he said it had to do with like uncontrollable anger? Like it just happens or something.”

Dipper nods, “Intermittent Explosive Disorder.”

“Yeah, probably. But he felt really bad after, and I can’t blame him for having something he can’t control, dude. That would be a dick move. But yeah, we talked it out I guess. I think I just made him question the entire universe.”

Dipper sighs, still tense but loosening now, “So you called it a hate crime, because?”

“Well, I mean, okay. At first I thought he did it because I was gay, but from our little conversation we had after, it was definitely not that.” 

Both twins raise eyebrow, “Are you gonna give us any more info, or?” Mabel asks and Wirt just shrugs. Dipper lets out another, deeper sigh. He’s known Wirt long enough to know that little shrug means ‘never in a million years ever’. 

“What are you guys doing here, anyways? I mean, I’m happy you’re here, but I live in Arizona? It’s like an eleven hour drive.”

Dipper shrugs, taking Wirt’s hand. “Guess I missed the ‘Team Roping Capital of the World’.” he teases and Wirt groans.

“Shut up! You know I think that’s stupid as shit.” He says, and as the twins laugh at him he takes a second to admire his boyfriends face. Dipper always laughs freely, and Wirt thinks that’s one of the reasons he fell in love with the younger (”by two days!”) boy at summer camp. His hair isn’t in his usual baseball cap with a pine tree on it, and is styled just the right way to cover his birthmark. He looks happy, if not still tense about the fact that Wirt got his ass beat. An easy smile finds it’s way onto Wirt’s face as Dipper calms down.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Dipper says, leading him towards the door. Mabel follows quickly behind, flicking off the light. She runs ahead of them, twirling around the hallway and nearly falling over herself in the process.

“So, I know Wirt is gonna wanna bounce because he’s covered in human juice.”

“Stop calling blood human juice.”

“Don’t interrupt me, Dipper. But what are we gonna do when we skedaddle out of here?”

Both twins look to the brunette for an answer, he huffs as he tries to think of something. “We could get burgers and shakes at McDonald's? And then head home, probably. Greg’s gonna be super excited to see you guys.”

“Oh! I can’t wait to see him! We’re here for the next four days, by the way, god I can’t wait!” She pushes open the doors to the gym and the music floods over them. Jesus, was it always that loud? How long had Wirt been away from the party?”

“What time is it?” He asks Dipper, trying to ignore all of the strange looks that are being sent his way. He can’t blame them, it looks like he got mauled by a pack of wild dogs.

“It is, nine forty-eight.” The other boy responds, Wirt nods as they exit the gym into the parking lot. Dipper’s car is still as messy as it was the year before, if not more, but Wirt thinks that just adds to the charm.

Sara, who had apparently been in front of the gym the whole night, drops her punch at the sight of Wirt. “Oh my god! Wirt!” she rushes over.

“I’m fine, Sare. Really. It’s all good.” He gives her a smile, but she doesn’t stop giving him a look.

“Trevor did this, didn’t he? You know he came out here like thirty minutes ago fucking covered in blood and looked like he pissed himself when he saw me. So don’t cover for him.”

“I’m not covering for Trevor! There were circumstances that I don’t know if I’m allowed to share.” Wirt says, gesturing wildly with his hands, thankfully Dipper doesn’t seem to mind.

“Wirt, if he’s blackmailing you just tell me. I can fix it!”

“Sare, I appreciate the thought, but this is really something that should be left alone, alright? I might tell you on a different day, but right now it is confidential. No I’m not being blackmailed, if anything the information I got out of him after everything could be considered blackmail, just. Not tonight, okay?” He can tell she doesn’t want to give up but he really can’t explain all of this right now, “Please?”

She sighs, “Alright. Fine. But I expect a detailed report of what happened tomorrow morning.” Wirt nods and it’s then Sara finally notices the twins, “Oh. You found him. Cool, see you guys.” The twins giver he simultaneous ‘later’s’ and she walks back to the girl from her chem class.

Mabel moves to get in the front seat before she’s stopped by Dipper, “Ah ah ah!” he says, gaining her attention. He passes her the keys and she whines but moves to the other side anyways.

“You fucking suck, Dip-stick.”

“Sorry that I want to be able to comfort my boyfriend in the backseat of my own car and can’t do that when I’m driving.” he opens the back door and motions for Wirt to get in, and once they’re all set they drive to the nearest McDonald's.

Ordering food had thus been the easier part of Wirt’s night, but he’s hoping things will start going up from here.

The food sits in the passengers seat in the quiet car before Mabel presses play on the car stereo. Wirt immediately looks up from where his head was buried in Dipper’s shoulder, a smile crossing his face.

“Isn’t this the mixtape I made you?” He turns back to Dipper, absolutely beaming.

Dipper’s face is red, but he nods. “Yeah. I listen to it sometimes.”

“Liar! He listens to it all the fucking time. I have it memorized by now.” Mabel calls from the front. Dipper kicks the back of her seat, “Shut up! At least I don’t have an entire folder dedicated to pictures of him on my phone!”

“My Pacifica picture collection is none of your business! And you have like eight hundred Polaroids on him on your wall, don’t even try that shit with me!” 

Dipper’s rebuttal is cut off when Wirt presses a kiss to his cheek. The younger boy turns and immediately presses their lips together in a kiss. It’s soft because of Wirt’s busted lip, but it’s still incredible. It’s never not incredible when it’s the two of them.

Mabel makes fake barfing noises, causing Dipper to flip her off, causing Wirt to laugh. They pull up to the drive way, walk through the front door, and are immediately greeted by Greg. He rushes into Wirt, giving him a tight hug. Even at ten years old, Greg still has as much energy as he did at six.

“Welcome home, brother o’ mine. How was, whoa what happened to your face?”

Wirt ruffles his little brothers hair, “I got into a fight with a dragon, dude. I won, obviously, but my jacket didn’t make it out alive.”

“I can fix that for you.” Mabel says taking his suit jacket, she’s almost knocked over when Greg charges into her next which makes her laugh. “Hey there, space cowboy. I missed you too!” She pulls him into a tight hug twirling him around the foyer before setting him back down. Dipper gives him a hug as well, just as tight but without all the spinning, and then Greg’s attention is back on Wirt.

“Okay. Why was this dragon mad at you?” He asks. This had become their thing ever since The Unknown. They would talk as if they were still there, or at least like they were in a fantasy world, and explain things to each other that way. Wirt thinks it helps them cope, but it’s probably just a result of being some weird kids.

“Anger issues.” Wirt says. That’s way too simple a phrase for it, and he knows that, but Greg is nine. He can explain it another day, but this is now and it’s ten o’clock.

Greg gives him a goofy grin, “Alright!” he says, skipping into the kitchen. The three teenagers follow him, Dipper once again takes Wirt’s hand.

“What were you doing in here little man?” Dipper asks, noticing that all of the chairs at the edge of the kitchen.

Greg picks up Jason Funderburker, the frog, and smiles again. “Well, Wirt was at his dance, and I wasn’t allowed to go with, so I made my own! Mom and dad are out tonight, too so I can play is as loud as I want!”

Greg being allowed to stay home alone tonight was a big decision. Not because no one trusted him but... okay yeah no one trusted him. Plus, it was dangerous! But, tonight was their mom and Johnathan's ten year anniversary and his mom didn’t want him to miss out on his Senior prom -no matter how much he assured her he could live without having gone- so it was the only option. No one was available to babysit, again prom night, and they couldn’t exactly take their nine year old to a bar. It doesn’t look like anything is on fire or broken yet, so Wirt can say it’s been a success so far.

“Alright then,space cowboy, lets get this party started!” Mabel says as she turns up the music. The song is ‘You Really Got Me’ by The Kinks, how Greg knows this song Wirt has no clue, and it bounces off the walls echoing up the stairs.

Greg does his weird jump step thing that he’s been doing since he could walk. It’s literally just jumping side to side to music, with the occasional dangerously fast spin, but it’s not a bad move. Jason Funderburker looks sick from all of the motion and Greg stops his movement just to let the frog go.

Mabel has always been a crazy dancer, just jumping around, arms flailing, hair going everywhere from her shaking her head. She’s probably going to poke someone’s eye out one of these days, but at least she’s having fun. Or, maybe she’s trying to poke someone’s eye out. Either way, she’s having a good time.

Dipper makes sure his arm movements hit every beat, spinning around for the parts where there are no hard beats to hit but smiling nonetheless. He looks like an idiot, and he knows he looks like an idiot, but what’s the point in being around all of your favorite people if you can’t look like an idiot in front of them?

Wirt, not much a dancer in normal circumstances, is going all out right now. He’s much more graceful than Mabel is being, but other than that they’ve got practically the same vibe. Except that Wirt actually did hit Dipper in the eye on accident earlier, but that’s in the past now.

The song ends and another begins and that cycle repeats for an hour until they’re all too tired for it anymore. Wirt sits down in one of the chairs, looking out over the kitchen. Greg is sitting on the floor with Jason Funderburker while the twins argue over what terrible movie to watch simply to make fun of it.

They both turn, “Wirt,” Dipper says, “What do you think?”

Wirt smiles. Maybe Prom night isn’t so bad after all. 

[vln-vibes]

The Raven and the Robin

Yeah so I’d like to blame certain parties such as @ladyanput @virgil-is-a-cutie For getting me back into Ever After High Hell.

Summary: Raven King was tired of everyone comparing her to her mother instead of seeing her for herself, its why she opted for castle schooling instead. Unfortunately it was the year of Legacy Day so she couldn’t make anymore excuses. Besides Evil Queen wasn’t her role; her family knew she was going to be the Good King but well... the Evil Queen wasn’t available. They didn’t know what happened to the King-Queens and preferably no one outside of their circle of trust would find out.

It was the year of Legacy Day…. Then again Legacy Day was done almost 15-20 years after one, depending on how long those fairy tales had taken to have children.

You know Raven didn’t need to think of the logistics of this already stupid thing.

She never liked the fact that everyone expected her to be just like her mother, the Evil Queen of the previous generation who’d gone rouge and nearly destroyed Wonderland, Mara Queen. People tended to forget that she disowned her mother; after everything she did to her, to the kingdom, to Wonderland, to everyone… to her family. Raven didn’t like thinking of the Evil Queen, having long since distanced herself from the stern but loving Mara Queen, as her mother, ever since Prince had been turned into a rat and Robin had….

“Would you two stop fighting?! Peas and crackers!” Maddie’s outburst had interrupted Raven’s spiral, her Wonderlandian friend just as mad as she usually was. Well her father was The Mad Hatter.

“Um, who are you talking to?”

“Why, the narrators! Oh, you can't hear them, Raven, only I can.” Of course there were narrators, Raven gave a small fond smile at her friend before sighing.

“It's just... Ah! I'm sick of everyone thinking I'm so "evil," because my mom was. It's not fair! They don’t even know the real me! They don’t even remember the fact that I was raised by the Good King” the next thing she knew her outburst of emotion caused all their things to levitate before quickly dropping. “Ah curses, not again”

“No one thinks you're evil. Hehe, now you're just talking crazy! La-la-la!”

“Daughter of the Mad Hatter calls ME crazy?”

“Would you stop with the worry-flurry? Besides, your new do is completely you! No one will tell which Tale you belong to” Raven had been worrying about the whole thing ever since she knew she’d have to enroll at Ever After High though her father had been able to pull some strings and get her excused during her first year, unfortunately Legacy Day prevented her from doing so again. As the duo walked up the stairs, Raven noticed the stares but they quickly brushed over her and focused on Maddie’s Wonderland madness.

Raven was relieved, she never met many other fairy tale characters outside of those who resided in her kingdom or family friends such as Cerise Hood, Ramona Badwolf or Hunter Huntsman. Raven hadn’t expected a visit from Madeline “Maddie” Hatter out of the blue, the girl just stating that the place was in need of a good tea party. She hadn’t left her side ever since.

Raven had long wavy ebony black hair with royal blue highlights in an upsweep, a silver circlet with a ruby in the middle framing her hair. She wore a black corset top with a sweetheart neckline, a white pencil skirt with a carmine red tail that reached her knees to it and a black leather jacket with carmine accents tying her outfit together

She didn’t fit the look people had for the daughter of the Evil Queen.

“See? They don’t even realize who you are!” Maddie cheered before a chime familiar to them both rang. “Yay, tea time! Earl Grey,” the little mouse squealed from atop of her cup hat and brought out the teapot “oh, you clever dormouse! Why, yes, this is a new dress.”

Raven just let herself get carried by the madness and took a seat next to her best friend forever after.

The first half of the first day of school had been… interesting. Her classes were pretty broad but Raven didn’t know what to think of them; Science and Sorcery, Castle Design, Grimmnastics and Muse-ic Class had been fun so far but it was tiring always being on alert to make sure no one learned of her last name.

Lunch was honestly a take of fresh air as she’d be able to hang out with her friends, Maddie, Cerise and Hunter.

Then an unexpected visitor came.

“Hey, uh Raven! Right?” Raven took a good look at the guy in front of her light skin, brown hair with a cowlick and deep rich blue eyes; though it was a shame that his glasses blocked out most of their beauty.

“Y-Yeah. You’re in my Science and Sorcery Class, right?” Raven wanted the Earth to swallow her as she found herself alone with a cute boy as she waited for her friends to finally come to the table.

”Uh-You look gort... I mean great. I-I don't even know what gort is…”

“Well, I'd offer you a seat, but we don’t exactly know each other. To sit here you'd have to be pretty—”

Suddenly screams and squeals could be heard from the castleteria entrance, mostly from the girls, and flashing lights from the center of the group.

“Daring”

“What? No, Raven, I'm Dex, Dexter Charming! Daring's my bro…” while the two had gone back to their conversation neither realized the epicenter of the screams had come to their direction until Dexter felt a familiar heavy pat to the back “ther. Oh, gort.”

“Why, Once upon a hi! I’ve never seen you around here, are you a new student?” Raven had to resist the urge of rolling her eyes, not wanting to make a bad impression, as she could only guess who was behind her.

“Yep. You’re Apple White, daughter of Snow White, and Daring Charming, son of King Charming” Raven stated though Apple and Daring seemed to flourish at the recognition.

“I-uh I have to warn you: don't stare at the teeth. Just got them whitened” oh, so that's where the lights came from.

“You are royally correct! Who might you be?” Apple preened as Raven covered her eyes from Daring’s smile.

“I’m… Raven” the expecting looks from the trio annoyed Raven but she might as well get them over with “Raven King”

“Oh my good fairy! You must be another Royal” Apple cheered until they heard coughing from behind, Raven sighing in relief as she saw her friends.

“Sorry but you’re kinda in our way” Hunter shrugged, waiting for Apple and Daring to move before Cerise rolled her eyes and pushed past them to take her seat.

“Well then I think it's time for us to go to lunch boys! Spell you later, Raven” Apple practically commanded the two Charming boys to accompany her to the Royal table, though Dexter shot Raven a shy wave.

“Well I guess that was a nice first time meeting my niece” Raven joked as they finally began eating their food.

“She sure is something alright” Cerise rolled her eyes before beginning on her large steak.

“For what is she without her people and crown? To which do not approve of Wonderland do” Maddie added along, taking out another cup from her hat.

“She used to be a lot more chill at the beginning of last year” the hooded girl explained, cleaning up from her meaty meal with a dainty napkin “But she started getting fidgety when there was no EQ in the student body. That’s when she really started firing up the whole Royals v Rebels and following your destiny thing”

“Right. So what are Royals?”

“I thought we went over this,” Hunter whispered before explaining “It's everyone who wants to sign their Destiny on the Storybook of Legends and follow their stories. We’re Rebels, the ones who’d rather find their own way in life, though we’re probably going to sign too”

Raven woke up the next day to Maddie’s breakfast tea time alarm chiming; she really wasn’t looking forward to rehearsal today. She didn’t know her well but Apple White was certainly overbearing; Kingdom Management was practically overtaken by Apple hogging the spotlight and not letting anyone else speak. The only good thing out of it was that she was able to talk to the Charming twins; Dexter and Darling.

“So, when your magical key appears, you insert it gently into the Storybook of Legends, then stand, shoulders back, and declare your destiny to the world! Have I made myself clear?” Headmaster Grimm, descendant of the original Grimm Brothers, spoke to the student body.

“Headmaster Grimm, but what if…” Raven knew she couldn’t, wouldn’t, sign the book unless Robin was around, her decision would alter his and she couldn’t just𑁋

“No questions? Good. Now, we're going to practice with this tiny Manual of Entirely Reasonable School Rules. Who will go first?”

Raven waited nervously as each one of the students scheduled for Legacy Day passed up to the podium; Briar Beauty, Rosabella Beauty, Jillian Beanstalk, Daring, Dexter and Darling Charming, Kitty Cheshire, Hopper Croackington II, Humphrey Dumpty, Ashlynn Ella, Farrah Goodfairy, Maddie, Lizzie Hearts, Cerise, Sparrow Hood, Hunter 𑁋

“Raven… King”

Raven could feel the stare of Headmaster Grimm as she walked up to the podium.

“I'm Raven King and I pledge to follow my destiny as... um... I have a question!”

“What is it?” Raven could tell that she was getting on the Headmaster’s nerves and knew that her next question would definitely cause a ruckus but…

“I was just wondering, I mean, what if I don't want to take the pledge?”

Raven definitely had to have seen all the gasps and screams of horror coming. Grimm stomping up to her and facing her head on though was probably the more uncomfortable part.

“Here's your answer. If you don't pledge your destiny, your story ceases to exist.”

“Ceases to exist? So then... What happens to me?”

“You will cease to exist! Poof! Now, Raven, continue.” Raven could tell that the conversation was over, it reminded her of how she’d talk. She also knew that her next words would cause even more of an issue.

“I… I am Raven King, daughter of the Good King and I𑁋”

“You’re daughter of the Good King! That means- That means you’re my Evil Queen!” Apple squealed in delight, running up the steps and giving Raven the biggest hug she could. More gasps could be heard, even someone fainting, as Apple just began to ramble more and more on how hexallent it was that Raven finally revealed herself, how they’d be roomates to get to know each other and how she couldn’t wait to be poisoned and get her happily ever after just like their mothers.

“Do not compare me to that woman” Raven shook Apple off of her, she could feel her cerulean eyes glow and her hair float.

“I gotta go”

“But the rules are... The rules!”

“Destiny!”

Raven ignored all the yells and just made her way into the Enchanted Forest. She finally settled onto a log, watching on a tree as two black birds circled around their nest before one of them began to chirp at a bush underneath.

It was an injured bird. No. It was a dead bird.

Raven couldn’t help but cry.

“The Raven flies. The clouds, they sing! The Robin sleeps, with a broken wing. The Apple falls not far from the tree. But what should happen when the tide rolls in?”

AO3 Ko-Fi

[corpse--diem]

Dead Friendship Forever | Regan & Erin

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @kadavernagh​ & @corpse--diem​ SUMMARY: Former DFFs bump into each other in a cemetery with death on the brain.

Cemeteries were full of more life than most people gave them credit for. Mornings were her favorite, when the sun started to warm the world again. Erin had her biases and the added convenience of living across the street from one her entire life. But there were few places in this town that grounded and comforted her all at once like Strawford Park could. It made this place feel like home again if only for a few moments. Not even this place could silence the voices in her head--especially her uninvited guest--but it was worth it for what she hoped it would bring. Her feet slowed at a portion of the path that broke off into the middle of the cemetery that stretched into a sea of assorted headstones and greenery as far as anyone could see. Knew that if she took a left now and another left at the second tree further up she’d be at her parents’ plot. It probably looked like an overgrown, weed-riddled mess at this point. She could hear her mother’s scorning, teasing tone. How does someone kill marigolds, Erin? I picked these on purpose! You’ve got to try and kill them! A small smile lifted the corner of her lips and she stared hard at the path. She almost made that left turn. Almost.

Something stronger than nostalgia won control of her movements and she continued forward. Not today. Not now. There were enough demons she had to face these days without diving into that emotional baggage. Lifted her head when she heard footsteps not far and a jolt of panic stopped her again like a brick wall had just shot up in front of her. Shit. “Regan…” she started, a soft roll of her eyes. A taste of the anger from their last encounter months ago in the morgue flared up in her chest. Present, but considerably tame in comparison. Time had an effect on emotions like that sometimes. “What are you doing here?” Erin asked, wincing inwardly. Regretted the insanely obvious question as soon as she’d asked it. This was Regan, after all. “I--uh--,” she shook her head quickly, narrowing her eyes at the path just beyond Regan. Fuck. She could do this. Play the pleasant adult before moving on. Hopefully. “How are you?” She asked.

The moon is so wonderful tonight… I bet Ulfric is loving it. “What?” Regan asked aloud, even though she suspected no one would answer. “It’s daytime. And who is Ulfric?” That name sounded familiar, though. A scream that seemed to shoot out of a nearby headstone made her freeze in place, before sprinting away. Cemeteries used to be so peaceful and quiet. Even though they still had some kind of tranquility to them, some kind of indescribable comfort, it wasn’t the same as it used to be. Regan kept her eyes low, sweeping them across the grass in front of her to watch for signs of squirrels and birds. She almost didn’t see that someone else was going for a stroll of their own nearby. But then she heard her name, coming from-- “Erin?” Oh, no. The last time they saw each other flickered through Regan’s mind. The broken glass, the fear in Erin’s eyes. And even before that, Erin nearly drowning in a glass of water because of words that Regan had spoke. A shudder rolled down her spine. There was no way Erin wanted to be here talking to her right now, and she couldn’t even blame her for that.

“What am I doing here?” Regan looked around at the sea of headstones. A disembodied voice shouted something about the lake, and a whisper curled past her ear. She shivered, but did her best to ignore it. “I go for a walk here a couple times a week. I live right nearby, remember? I assume you’re doing the same thing.” Regan eyed Erin, studying the dark circles under her eyes and the slump of her shoulders. She seemed tired, and not in the way of being sleep-deprived. “Uh,” she sputtered, as Erin seemed to do the same. Small chat. That’s what this was. “Look, you don’t have to-- I mean, I know things aren’t-- I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want--” She pressed a cold palm to her forehead and sighed to herself. At herself. Looked back at Erin. “I'm... things have improved recently, by a little over five feet. Are you alright? You look tired, and just a little bit annoyed, both of which are reasonable.” She paused, considering for a moment. “Do you want to talk about--” Nope. She clamped her mouth shut. Bad idea.

Crap. Did this mean Erin was going to have to avoid certain cemeteries now to skirt around awkward interactions now? She hadn’t thought about it before literally, and even as justifiable as her anger was, the pettiness layered in there too. Was she still going to do it? Probably. The hurt in her chest was as real as her fury. “Yeah, right. I remember. Dumb question, sorry,” she said. Ugh. That night she’d accidentally stumbled upon the medical examiner’s door felt like a lifetime ago. Almost instantly, that macabre bond formed over anatomically incorrect skeleton cookies and wholly invested death chat. It was almost still a sweet memory. She’d promised Regan more than she’d ever bargained for that night too. “Five feet, huh?” It was petty again, she knew that, but a small genuine smile overtook her. Oh, Blanche was going to be pissed, but the words left her before she had the better sense to shut it down. “I heard something about you flying out of the window--I mean off the handle for a little bit?” She asked. Nope. She couldn’t do this. This conversation had gone on for less than two minutes and already she was snipping at her like a toddler who hadn’t napped.

A heavy sigh fell from her and she regretted her last comments already. “I’m fine. And I hope you’re fine too, Regan. I mean that. I’m glad you’re… better.” She shook her head, rubbing the bridge of her nose. That’s a nice skull. Seriously? Her eyes snapped back open and she looked up. “What? No. What did I just--I don’t want to talk about skulls. I don’t want to talk about anything.” She shifted tensely where she stood. “Should you--should you even be here? What if you, uh--” she gestured with her hand towards her mouth. The scream.

Regan felt a sigh leave her mouth as Erin seemed to make peace with the fact the two of them were standing closer than a mile apart. She even did her best to ignore the curt comments. “That’s not amusing.” She wasn’t taking the bait. Blanche had thrown so much of it her way already; Bishop, too. But the sudden jerking of Erin’s head made Regan jump. “What? I didn’t say anything about-- I mean, I can talk about skulls if you want me to. But you just said you apparently don’t want to discuss them. Unless… do you have one with you? Can I see it?” Doubtful. On both counts. Erin looked like the only thing she wanted to hand over was a punch to the eye orbital. But there was a fresh skull nearby, wasn’t there? It flicked at her senses from a short distance away. Every second she stood there seemed like a bad idea-- maybe worse than inviting her to the morgue before. “I should probably, uh-- I mean, it’s getting dark out.” Regan motioned to the sky, which was slowly filling with the colors of an old contusion.

But Erin asked a question and, wait, what was she doing with her mouth? Oh. Oh. Of course. “We’re in a cemetery. If that did happen, it’d be much safer here than just about anywhere el-- uh, not that I-- I’m not going to scream at you.” Regan hissed air through her teeth. Lungs, don’t make me a liar. The pressure stirred, but didn’t try to escape. “It’s still, uh, I’m working on it. Trying to.” She hung her head down for a moment, kicking up a small bit of fresh grave soil. “I’m really sorry about what happened at the morgue. I never meant to hurt you. Really. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, and I still think everyone in this town is out of their mind, but I’m doing everything I can to avoid hurting anyone else.” She met Erin’s eyes, frowning. They had been friends, once. Maybe not close, but they’d connected in a way few people could relate to, and that was something special, wasn’t it? But looking at Erin, it seemed the wound from before was still very much open, and given how her lessons with Deirdre were going and the lack of progress being made, maybe that was for the best. “I’ll leave you to it. But if you did want a skull -- and not a human one -- there’s one buried a few inches underground there, I think.” Regan pointed past a few headstones.  

Erin could see that Regan was trying, and she felt a twinge of guilt for being so short. Not too guilty, but enough to stop her from letting loose much more of her barely contained wrath. It wasn’t meant for the doctor, not right now anyway. But wait--she didn’t say anything about the skulls? Fuck. That must have been Kaden. Again. “Right,” she shook her head. That was getting old too. But even as Regan tried to comfort her about the screaming thing, some fear nagged at her regardless. Once you endured a Regan scream, even a scream-lite, you didn’t want to have to tolerate another one. And they were in prime death territory. Bodies were buried beneath their feet and completely surrounded them.

“No, no, that’s--okay,” Erin shook her head, turning down the skeleton offer. Another time, that probably would’ve been a pretty fun way to spend her morning but those days were past them. Not like she had much time to spare for light, fun things anyway. “I should--” I wonder if the wings also flutter during an orgasm. The loud, intrusive thought made her stop mid-speech and all Erin could do was gape like a fish over at Regan. And now she was thinking about it. And suddenly this all had become way, way too much. “I’ve gotta go. Now,” she averted her eyes, suddenly blushing red. In her haste to rush out of there, she brushed Regan’s arm and fumbled a little, mumbling a small apology as she tried to keep going.

Get out of here, Kavanagh. As each second ticked by, it became increasingly clear that Erin was either still angry, or still afraid, or both, and there was no way to change that. Not now, and maybe not ever. Regan tried to ignore the sting of it, of such a potential friend lost, but it was hard to leave it well alone instead of trying to dislodge it and figure out exactly why everything had to go so wrong. Just as Regan was turning away, and just as Erin seemed to want to do the same, Erin froze like something gripped her from behind. “Erin?” Regan turned back toward her, heels swiveling in the dirt. I’ve gotta go. Now. “Did I-- what did I--” But Erin’s face was burning red, probably the warmest thing in the cemetery. “What happened? Are you alright? Did you have a heart palpitation or--”

Erin’s skin against her arm. She really was warm, but something about the contact filled Regan’s insides with an icy dread, and the cemetery around them unmade itself, headstones falling into nothingness and grass turning into wooden floorboards. There was a flash of fury as Erin lunged toward the man with a baseball bat. It made hard contact with his temple and he was on the floor. Regan screeched, falling backwards. She could feel wet grass caught in her palms and her coccyx collide with the dirt, but she couldn’t see it. Instead she saw Erin scavenge his pockets. Gun catching the light. Erin rolled him into a body bag, her face hard and determined with not a hint of guilt or disgust or shame or-- another flash, this time of death all around her, dark and suffocating rather than familiar and comforting. Regan could feel it thick in the hearse, thick around Erin. Could feel the pull of the man from the trunk. “Of course you bled in the van. You had to ruin one last thing on your way out, huh?” Erin was talking. To the cadaver of the man she’d just smacked with a baseball bat. The man she’d killed. Regan repeated the words aloud trying to make sense of them, trying to pull them apart and understand just what she was seeing, but if Erin was a murderer, then there was no understanding. None to be found. The cemetery rebuilt itself and Regan squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push down both the nausea and the scream threatening to pry itself from her lungs.

Erin was still making strides to get away when she realized Regan had stopped talking. Regan didn’t normally just stop talking--babbling and nervous rambling was easily one of her more noticeable traits, and she had been in the middle of exactly that when she’d suddenly stopped. The glance back froze Erin’s entire being in place. Those fucking eyes. The same black ones she saw at the morgue. She was bracing for it--the scream. Hadn’t she literally just voiced her fears about that? Was this literally about to be the morgue all over again? She didn’t have time to be angry--her body was already slipping into an adrenaline fueled flight stance. Regan fell back, staring off at nothing again, though she knew that wasn’t true. She saw something. Oh fuck. Oh, here it came. Erin was turning to run now when Regan opened her mouth--

“Of course you bled in the van. You had to ruin one last thing on your way out, huh?”

It took a few moments but the chilling realization built up thick in her chest the longer she stared. Dale. Slowly, her face burning deeper than before. “What di-” she tried to ask but words scraped the inside of her throat. How could she know that? Where the hell did that come from? Had she seen something? No. No. That was impossible. She didn’t come any closer to her, didn’t try to help her up. Just stared, that itch to run needling at her thighs. “What did you just say?” Erin finally managed with a slight waver, nearly devoid of her previous anger. The chilling fear was rapidly rebuilding that one, though. “What the hell did you just say to me, Regan?” She snapped, stepping forward.

For a moment, Regan could still see it pulsing behind her eyeballs. Erin’s fury and fear. Erin killing a man. Erin shoving him into a body bag. Erin sticking him in the back of her hearse. As headstones and statues remade themselves in front of her, she tried to summon that dark room back like it had been a memory rather than a hallucination. It felt close, but before she could get ahold of it, it streaked away, replaced by the solid feeling of the ground underneath her. But it-- it didn’t matter. Erin would never-- she wouldn’t, right? But how well did Regan really know her? They were friends, once. They were. Was she capable of killing? One hard lesson learned from the autopsy suite: everyone was.

But trusting a hallucination? Kaden thought they were real. Visions, he’d called them, ridiculous though it was. Erin, too. And now here she was, in a situation where she probably hoped Regan would still refuse to put any stock in them. Regan laid her palms flat against the wet grass and looked up at Erin’s petrified face. The blood had drained from it, and she looked as lifeless as the skeletons under their feet. Erin was trying to say something, trying to stutter through it. And there was that look. Stony but fearful. The same one Erin had given her at the morgue that was etched into Regan’s mind like the sound of a funeral bell.

“I said-- why? You clearly heard me. Does it mean anything to you? I thought I saw, I mean, I did see you--” Regan gave Erin a hard stare. Was she looking at a murder right now? Had she known the words had been her own? As impossible as it seemed-- no, of course it wasn’t possible. But it was difficult not to look past it, to not factor it in, to not even consider it. And Erin was angry now. She was, wasn’t she? Slowly, Regan wobbled to her feet, bracing herself on a nearby headstone, just for a second. “I, uh-- sorry, I got lightheaded for a-- I’m going to go. Now. I’m going to go now. Right now.” One more look over at Erin before she started running. It had to be all in her head. But if it wasn’t, and if for just an instant she could set aside centuries of medical knowledge and publications and logic, then… then she needed time to make sense of the unthinkable.

[mymoodwriting]

Blooming Eyes

F!Reader x Poison Ivy!Suho

Genre: Poison Ivy AU

Warning: Blood, Panic, Runaway, Experimentation, Prisoner

Words: 4.4K

Chapters:

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Epilogue

Prompt: Meeting an alien is one thing, but it’s a whole other thing when such a creature seems to fancy you. There was so much you wanted to do, but one decision changes your life in a way you never could have imagined.

A/n: We’re coming to the end but you can probably guess how things are going to go.

    Your eyes slowly opened, and all you could see was white. It wasn’t home, far from it. You sat up, the room pretty empty, you had been on a mattress on the floor, dressed in a white gown. You were scared to say the least, you wanted Suho, but he wasn’t around, you couldn’t even feel him, you couldn’t feel anything, so you were completely alone. You stayed on the mattress, hugging your knees to your chest, crying.

    When the door opened you pressed yourself against the wall. They said something but you had no idea what. All you could see was their mouth moving and weird sounds coming out. It didn’t matter whether you understood them or not, they grabbed you and picked you up, dragging you along with them. You didn’t scream, just tried to get away, a sobbing mess in their arms. Although you eventually stopped, something getting your attention but you couldn’t figure it out before you were put into another room.

    They sat you down in a chair, another empty one across you, and a table in between. You were left alone, the room white too, the ceiling made of lights. You were about to stand when the door opened and someone came in. They were in a suit, you only knew that cause Suho dressed like that, it made you miss him more. They took the other chair, putting something on the table, a file, and looking through it. All you could do was watch them until their attention was on you.

“How are you feeling?”

    Again all you got were sounds. You knew they were trying to talk to you, to communicate, but you couldn’t make it out. Suho talked to you with words too, but you were connected, so you always knew what he meant, you could feel it, even if you didn’t understand the words entirely. So in this situation all you could do was stare.

“Y/n, are you alright? I should apologize for the situation that brought you here, but it was to help you.” You stayed silent. “Y/n?”

    You looked over at the door, stared at it for a while, then looked back. They seemed concerned but there’s nothing you could. It wasn’t surprising that they were getting upset.

“Answer me!”

    When they raised their voice you jumped back, nearly falling out of your chair. Tears stung your eye, and the door opening made you more scared.

“Don’t yell at her. I don’t think she can understand us right now.”

“What?”

“Have you seen her test results?”

“What does that have to do with this?”

“Her genetic makeup isn’t human anymore, rather far from it.”

“So…?”

“She’s like some human plant. When was the last time a tree spoke your language?”

“That can’t be-”

“Does it look like she is registering anything we’re saying? She doesn’t even recognize her own name.”

“So then what do we do? How are we supposed to talk with her or figure out where that alien freak is.”

“How about we try with photos.”

    You watched the two of them go back and forth for a while. Then the second person opened the file on the table and put some images down in front of you. You could recognize yourself in some pictures but you didn’t know where they were taken. Although you were drawn to one of Suho, gently touching it.

“So she’s not useless.”

“I suppose she’s like a child. Surely she’s capable of speech.”

“You want to teach her to talk?”

“What else do you want to do with her? We’ve already scheduled more tests.”

“Fine, whatever, give it a shot. Although if there is no progress-”

“I know, I know.”

“Good luck then.”

    The first person who came in left, and you stared at the door again. The other sat down and started taking the pictures but you grabbed Suho’s, holding it close. They laughed and let you keep it. They talked again, but it mostly seemed to be to themselves before getting up and leaving. You were alone for a while before the two who brought you here came in. This time you got up on your own and walked out the door. You seemed to be cooperating so they just led you down the hallway.

    When you had that feeling again, you came to another hallway path, and bolted down it. The two yelled and followed after you. The light above you became red but you didn’t pay attention to it. You just followed the feeling until you came to an open door and went into the room. You looked around for a second and then realized what brought you there. You ran over and grabbed the potted plant, hugging it tight and holding it close.

    The two came in, startled by the scene, moreso curious as to how you found the lunch room. There were others in the room who were also confused. As the two approached you, they cornered you, one trying to take the pot but you held it tight. The two shared a look and then just grabbed you, dragging you away, but not trying to take the plant again. You wound up back in your room, your grip on the pot not loosening until you were alone.

Hi

Why hello there. What are you? How can you speak with me?

Um… not know

I see, you are a very curious little thing, but it’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?

Name… name…

Ah, you must be very young. My name is Potts, it’s what you can call me.

Potts…

 Yes, hello.

Hi

So what do I call you?

Call… Flower

Flower? Okay, hello Flower.

Hi

How did you end up here? Do you remember?

Here… Suho…

Suho?

    You looked around and grabbed the picture you had. You showed it to Potts, pointing at Suho.

Oh, that Suho. Wait… the picture is recent, he’s awake? For how long now?

Hm… more than me

What happened… are the others awake?

One brother more

I see… did he leave you?

No… no… not know what happen… me hurt, try help but hurt too, brother help Suho… not me

Will they come for you?

Want to… not know… scary place, get hurt again, don’t want hurt again

It’s okay, I’m sure they will come for you, given the miracle that is you, you’re surely special. How did Flower come to be?

Um… me… smart, not Flower, other me… smart me make Flower, what Suho said

Another you, science is a strange thing and humans just go nuts with it.

Humans…

Everyone that isn’t you or me, you look human, but you’re certainly not one anymore. Do you know where you are?

White room

Yes, but you are in some human facility, a research place, underground.

Bad or good

Well, given what you are, probably bad.

Oh…

You’ll be okay though, I’ll help you. I’ve been here for a few years now. You’re just in a room, luckily not an observation room, but there is still a camera in the corner.

Camera

Yeah, it’s just meant to keep an eye on you so nothing back happens.

    You looked around the room until you found the camera. It was a little black or in the ceiling with a little glowing red dot in it. You stared rather curiously, not aware someone was staring back.

♥♥♥♥♥

“What is this? Is she seriously-”

“Rewind the footage.”

“This is a joke.”

“It makes sense, her biology is that of a plants. This also proves that plants do in fact communicate with each other. Or at least have their own telepathic language.”

“How does this help us though?”

“It means she is intelligent and capable of communication, just not with us.”

“She doesn’t speak, she doesn’t say anything.”

“Her mind is still human, she can learn.”

“It takes a child years to learn to speak, we don’t have that kind of time.”

“We might not need it. Y/n was once human, a little education could trigger that side.”

“Well why don’t you go have a chat with the plant girl, cause you’re just wasting time now.

♥♥♥♥♥

    You just sat on the mattress talking with Potts, he got the name from a human who used to take care of them but they were transferred somewhere else a couple months ago. A small hatch at the bottom of the door opened up, a tray of food slid in. You hadn’t noticed but you were hungry, so you scampered over and started eating. It was just a sandwich and water, not enough, but good for the time being, although not as tasty as what Suho fed you. As you were about to drink water you looked back at Potts. You poured some into the pot then had the rest.

Thank you, but I didn’t need that. You’re probably more thirsty than I.

Don’t want be alone

I’m not going anywhere, promise.

    You definitely got better at talking, if only a bit, with Potts, but you were certainly getting tired. Potts told you to get some sleep, they’d still be there when you woke up. You didn’t want to take any chances, so you made sure Potts was in the corner, safe and sound. Although when you woke up you didn’t feel better, you felt worse.

Flower? What’s wrong?

Not good… hurts, don’t know what…

I don’t think it was the food. Although you might need more.

No… it… sun…

Sunlight, of course, I thrive on low light but you, you need to get help. You need to tell the humans.

Can’t… no words…

I… screaming, can you scream?

    You curled up, whimpering in pain, you wanted Suho, but he was nowhere in sight. In your state you didn’t notice being picked up and carried away. The next thing you knew you were on some cold table, tied down. You could hear noises, people were talking, but of course you didn’t understand.

“What’s going on?”

“She seems to be deteriorating, we don’t understand the cause.”

“Really? Are you not the ones who ran initial tests on her? She’s a plant, we haven’t given her sunlight, my gosh she is actually capable of photosynthesis. Get her a sunlamp and put one in her room.”

    You regained consciousness in your room, feeling the light on you, it felt nice, but it made you cry. It wasn’t the real sun, it wasn’t right, but at least the hurting went away.

Flower…

Want Suho… want sun

Easy, easy now, you’ll get both. You’ve been out for a while, I was getting worried.

Potts okay

Yes. I’m doing just fine.

    You looked over, some of Potts’ leaves were turning brown. There was food by your bedside and you grabbed the cup of water, pouring it in the pot.

Flower, you need that.

Need sun more

Yes, yes you do, if you have the strength you should eat too.

Hm

    You sat up, you were getting better but now being fed artificial sunlight, you probably wouldn’t be the same for a long while. You ate the sandwich, same as before.

What Potts doing when alone

Just waiting for you.

How Potts speak better than Flower

I know, I may not look it, but I am quite old, much older than you, and that’s including your human years.

Smart

You said you are too.

Other me

It’s still you. Flower, you cannot stay here. It’s not safe.

Where go, don’t know here, wait, wait for Suho

Alright, still take it slow, you haven’t had enough sun, real or not.

    When the door opened you curled up, grabbing Potts and putting them into your lap. You recognized the person, the second one from the other room where they tried to talk with you.

“Hello there y/n, are you feeling better?”

Why do they even bother speaking? Do they not know you don’t understand them, humans are truly primitive.

    You looked down at Potts and chuckled a bit. The other person in the room watched you curiously. They were trying to process what they just saw.

“Can… can the plant understand me?”

Wow, that’s a first. We’re usually ignored. I can totally understand humans. We all can, well not you little Flower, not yet.

Learn

Eventually. Suho and I can teach you.

“My name is Violet, I just want to help her. Can you tell her that?”

Do I look like a mediator or something?

She can’t hear you

No. She says her name is Violet.

Like the flower

Yes. I’ve seen her before so she’s not lying. She wants to help you.

Why

I don’t know. Do you want to find out?

Good idea or no

Hm… maybe, might not be a bad idea to have a friend here.

So how get help

Just look at her and nod your head yes.

    You did as Potts told you, and the woman smiled. She slowly approached you, and handed you something, it was a children’s book. It had a lot of color, and you thought it was cute, showing Potts. That’s how you made a friend. Violet would come by daily, she was trying to help you speak, but to start she was trying to teach you to write. It was easier to learn shapes, letters, than to actually make sense of her gibberish.

    All the books she brought you were yours to keep. Potts would read it to you, so it helped you recognize letters and get their meaning. You liked Violet, she was rather nice, and patient. The only thing you didn’t like was when she asked to draw blood. She’d take you to the lab they had, draw some blood and get other samples. You were allowed to bring Potts since he was like a strange translator between you two.

I think it’s quite pointless to try and teach you to speak. Plants don’t talk like humans.

But… want to learn…

I know, but I don’t know if you can speak, which is what Violet wants.

I try…

And you’re doing great, but it’s okay if you can’t.

    You were special, that much you knew, and Violet wanted to know how you came to be. You kinda knew, but of course you couldn’t say anything given you could only understand her with Potts, you couldn’t tell her anything, not yet anyway. You still missed Suho, and everything else, but you at least had Violet, and she made things bearable. At night you’d read some of the books you had.

Flower…

“What”

You… you were… are speaking…

“I am…”

Yes.

No way… really

Well, not anymore, perhaps only the simple things for now.

I can talk…

I guess you’re not entirely a plant.

    You were quite excited as you went to bed, but that was probably the last time you would feel that way. Regaining your ability to speak was just the beginning, and that night gave you the rest. It all came rushing back, your life, the memories, the pain, the guilt. You woke up screaming, jumping out of bed, dazed and trying to understand where you were.

Flower, you need to calm down.

    You screamed and looked around the room in a panic. You saw the camera but there didn’t seem to be some sort of speaker system. 

“Who said that!”

Me.

“Who?”

Potts.

“Potts? Who’s-” Your eyes landed on the plant. “Potts?”

Yes. Do you not remember?

“How… how are you talking, how can I understand you!”

Oh… you must be the other person Flower spoke of. I was told you were intelligent.

“I… Flower? What are you… no, no, I must be going crazy, plants don’t talk.”

Obviously. I don’t have a mouth, but in retrospect, you were partially human, so I suppose speech made sense. You’re also a plant, so thus our communication.

“But… how was I not able to speak with plants before?”

I believe you just didn’t notice, or you don’t remember.

“That wouldn’t be surprising.” You took a breath and looked at the camera. “Hello! Hello is anyone there!”

    Everything was slowly clearing up, but you weren’t entirely sure where you were or how you ended up there. Although as more and more started to register you knew you weren’t here by choice. Someone eventually came in and took you to an interrogation room, it felt vaguely familiar, and then a woman entered.

“Hello, y/n.”

“Who are you? Where am I? Why am I here?”

“A lot of questions. I have to admit it’s nice to communicate with you again.”

“What?”

“Don’t you remember?”

“It’s a little fuzzy right now…”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Suho…”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know… the house is a mystery to me, he messes with my head very easily.”

“I should introduce myself.” She sat down. “My name is Violet. I’m a scientist here, and we’ve been tracking you for months.”

“Tracking? Me? Why?”

“To rescue you. You’re the only survivor of your company, and the only one with intimate knowledge of the specimen.”

“No… when I left people were alive.”

“You remember?”

“Fragments…”

    Those kind of memories always worried you the most. You knew something bad had happened, very bad, enough to make you distraught. He didn’t like seeing you unhappy, he made sure you weren’t.

“Why you?”

“I showed him kindness…”

“That’s not in his nature, is it?”

“If you think I can help you, I can’t. He won’t come for me if you thought I could be bait. I’ve only lived this long cause he needed me for something.”

“Does that something have to do with Adrian Patten and Sedona Nikolova?”

“Yes… and no, they have to do with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Surely you’ve tested my blood… how much is left?”

“How much of what?”

“My humanity.”

“Ah… the last I saw, it was around twelve percent.”

“The last time I checked I was at fifteen. The mutation is almost…”

“What caused it?”

“Right, your tests. I spliced up my own DNA and that of a plants, in order to bind them I used Suho’s blood. That’s the foreign material in my system, and the closest you’ll get to him.”

“So Adrian and Sedona helped you before their deaths?”

“I’m sorry… but I don’t remember what happened, although Suho didn’t need them alive, and I never worked with them. He just gave me their memories.”

“He can do that?”

“Yes. He absorbs knowledge, he can transfer it too. He also has… had a lot of control over my mind. Any memories he didn’t like, he got rid of.”

“So why did he keep you? Is this his plan? To change us all?”

“No, it’s…” You shook your head, of course it’s something he wouldn’t want you to know but it was too great to forget. “No what he’ll do is worse.”

“Which is?”

“He somehow got his hands on that little serum you create, the one designed to free me. He had me reverse engineer it so it can be recreated with the opposite effect. So he can wipe out humanity without harming any other life form.”

“That’s what he had you create.”

“I only reverse engineered it… I don’t think I completed it, but he can.”

“He knows how?”

“He absorbed my knowledge a long time ago.”

    Violet went quiet, as were you. Suho had what he wanted, what he really needed. Given how the weapon worked, there was no way to survive, it just needed to be prevented. Of course you didn’t know where Suho was, you wish you did so you could stop him. You asked Violet for help with your condition, all you needed was a lab and your blood samples, but all she told you was that she’d look into it. You were returned to your room.

Welcome back, I was starting to get worried you had moved on to better things.

“I won’t leave you if that’s what you think. I had a plant before, Cupcake, I miss them.”

Cupcake surely misses you as well. Now, I had this discussion with Flower, but she couldn’t do much.

“What?”

It’s not a good idea to stay here.

“Why.”

You tell me. Flower is a child in all eyes, humans wouldn’t harm her, you on the other hand.

“I’ll be fine. I just need their help and I’ll go back to normal.”

What about Suho?

“He needs to be stopped.”

You think you can do that?

“You don’t have to be on his side. You’ll be just fine either way.”

Perhaps I don’t have to choose sides, but you do.

“And I’ve made it.”

Is it the right one?

♥♥♥♥♥

    Despite the rocky start you grew to get along with Potts, he was in a way your cellmate, and the only one keeping you sane. Potts was very patient with you too, helping you get a hang of using your plant side to speak. You vaguely remembered communicating with them before, way before you even knew what Suho had done to you. At least you had more to eat and were provided with more water, always giving some to Potts.

    The worse thing was that you were practically right where you started, where this whole mess started, just on the other side. This time you were in the cell with artificial sunlight keeping you alive, and one person who seemed to care for you. After you got your main memories back you thought that was it, but then you began to remember something else, someone else, Flower. It was the name Suho had given the plant version of you, and Potts could confirm somethings too. She lived in blissful ignorance, seemed better off with Suho too, you were a nuisance.

“I can’t feel him… she was terrified and missed him… I just feel empty.”

Whatever your feelings towards Suho may be, you’re part of something greater now, and without that connection, there is something missing.

“What about you? You’re in a pot, far from nature since we’re underground.”

Yes, that’s true, but all of nature is connected. I may have spent my whole life in a pot, but I know you’re like me, despite appearances. The same goes for you doesn’t it? Feeling a connection.

“It’s how I… Flower, found you, through that connection. Although I’m not as calm as you.”

I’m not so worried about the world. I’ll find my way around, and I’ll be reborn again.

    You didn’t really see Violet, or anyone, which wasn’t surprising, they had more pressing matters to deal with. After all, once Suho dumped the serum down the drain, you really lost hope in being your old self again. You laid on the mattress, staring at the wall, a part of you was hoping that the mutation would kill you, but you had seen the data before, that wasn’t going to happen, although you had no idea what would.

♥♥♥♥♥

Y/n! Y/n, wake up!

“Sh… stop being so loud…”

Are you alright?

“What?”

You’ve been gone for a long time. I was afraid…

“What are you talking about I just-”

    You stopped when you noticed the edges of Potts’ leaves were becoming brown. Last time you saw them they were vibrant and green. You got up but quickly felt dizzy, noticing a slight pain in your chest. You didn’t have any water around, or food, but you brought Potts over and bit your wrist.

What are you doing?

“I have Suho’s blood in my veins, given what he is, it should be good for you.”

    When you cut through skin you bled into the pot a bit, and eventually the wound healed on its own. You laid back down and glanced at the camera. You closed your eyes and bit your lip, trying to concentrate.

What happened?

I’m not so sure. You fell asleep and a while later two others came in, I believe you were sedated and taken.

I did try to wake you up, but we all know how that ended. This may not be the time, but I do recommend you find a way out of here.

And how am I supposed to do that! I’m not Suho, I can’t summon vines from thin air or however he does it. I’m normal, just like you. Speaking of, how do you know Suho?

We all know him, and his brothers.

But how?

I can’t explain it. Perhaps you should ask him.

If I ever see him again, but I doubt that. I just need to fix this.

    You slowly got yourself back to normal. Unsure of what had happened, now more weary of your situation than before. Potts was doing just fine, the blood probably providing a lot of nutrients too. If anything they might mutate too. You wondered how much time you had left.

Y/n…

What?

You’re not one of them anymore, you need to accept that.

Shut up.

They’re not treating you like one. You haven’t spoken to Violet since you told her what Suho’s plan was, you were secretly taken for something, and they haven’t helped you. They don’t see you as one of them.

That’s not true, they’re just busy. Suho’s trying to kill them all.

Them, good point, not you.

Potts… I’m not…

The humans want to experiment on Suho, they don’t have him, right now you’re second best. Studying you is the closest they can get to understanding him.

That’s not true!

What other reason do they have to take you in secret? If not for me being here you would have never known. It would explain the pain.

No… no, that would only speed up the mutation as it… no…

Flower told me you’re intelligent, surely you can figure some way to escape. Or maybe you do have power like Suho, his blood is in you, it’s just a matter of trying to use it.

That’s not what’s going on.

You only have so much time before something really bad happens…

    A part of you believed Potts, it was the logical conclusion, especially knowing that in the other position, you’d want to study you too. You held on to doubt though, wanting to believe you’d be okay, but your own hopes were crushed. It happened again, and it was worse. You woke with aches all over your body, your chest feeling as if it was set ablaze.

“Potts…”

I’m here, you were gone longer this time…

What… what am I supposed to do…

I don’t know.

I’m sorry I didn’t… can I ask you… for a favor…

What can I possibly do?

If you ever… if you ever see Suho… tell him… 

Tell him what?

“He better kill them all…”

[stuck-in-hawkins]

Their First Fight

Jonathan got his things as quickly as he could.  Having photography class as his last subject of the day was both a blessing and a curse.  He was always the last to clean up, wanting to use up every second he could.  Jonathan had been elated at the prospect of staying late on days where the lab was open after school.  He had hoped to build up his portfolio to apply for colleges and some local papers.  

But, how could he now?  He couldn’t tell Will and El to walk home.  Not with those thugs from the locker room on the prowl.  There was a hope that maybe they would find a club or a group to belong to, the way the party had been for them back at Hawkins.  But in the meantime, he was responsible for their safety and couldn’t risk staying late.  He threw his bag over his shoulder and made his way to the parking lot.

When he got there, he saw Will and El leaned over and listening to the Walkman.  

“Hey guys.  You have the keys, you could just listen to the radio and save the batteries.” He tried to sound lighthearted but he could tell by the look in Will’s face: the day had not gone well.

“Is everything okay?”  Jonathan regretted asking the moment the words left his lips.  It obviously wasn’t.  And that question only ever got the blanket statement:

“Yeah. Fine.”  It came from Will.

You can read on ao3 here or below. 

El flicked her eyes over.  

Jonathan realized how red and puffy they were.  “That bad, huh?”

Will crossed his arms and turned towards the window.  Will knew it probably looked childish but he didn’t care.  Everything was still too close.  He felt like if he talked about it, he would explode and either end up yelling or crying.  He had been fine for a moment, comforting El had been comforting to him.  She looked to him for answers.  She was the only one who did that.  Everyone else would try to solve things for him and that just made him feel pitiful.

Jonathan looked to El.  “How about you, El?  Give me the highlights.”

“Highlights?”

“The best part of the day.”

El blinked for a second.  In truth, it had been being comforted by Will.  Some wall had been brought down.  She was really beginning to feel like a sister to him.  She felt hopeful and less alone.  He was going to help her get her powers back.  Or, at least, they were going to try.  But she didn’t want to share it, not when Will was so tight lipped.  She didn’t want to ruin what they had now.

“Leaving school.”

Jonathan’s shoulders sagged and looked at them both.  He realized there was a line, a distance, that he couldn’t close.  He turned and started the car.

Will saw El look over at him, pleadingly.  She saw the hurt.  She always did.  

“Lunch was the highlight.”  He mumbled.  “My art teacher wants to help me make a portfolio for college.”

Jonathan looked back, “Are you serious?  That’s amazing!  My photography teacher offered to help with mine, too.  He said that they look for variety but it’s good if you have a niche.  But you already seem to have one with those characters.”

Will looked at his hands.  “Those aren’t going in my portfolio.  They’re just doodles.”

Jonathan looked back in the mirror.  He could see the light inside his brother dimming.  Moving out here had stolen something from him.  The security he had among his friends, even through their troubles.  Jonathan used to be able to pull Will out of those dark places, the dark thoughts.  He used to be able to reach him.  But now he couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried.

The car was quiet.  Jonathan filled the silence with the radio, and wondered when Will had shut him out.

_____________________________

Once they got home, El and Will went to his room to do homework. Jonthan preheated the oven and got the chicken out of the fridge.  He had prepped it in a baking pan the night before, so all he had to do was throw it in.  Joyce was trying to teach him some basic meals before he went to college.  

Saying, “I don’t want you having eggs and canned soup for every meal.”

Jonathan started tidying up around the kitchen when he realized that they were out of dish cloths.  

He called down the hallway, “Hey, Will?”

“Yeah?”

Jonathan made his way over to Will’s room, “Can you throw some of the dish cloths in with your laundry?”

Will threw down his pencil.  Among the things he hated about the apartment was its lack of a washing machine.  They had to go downstairs to the communal laundry machines.  He rubbed his eyes for a moment and sighed, trying to push away the annoyed feeling.  Bright side.  He told himself.  He grabbed his sketchbook, library book, and Walkman.  He would at least be out of the apartment.  He could just sit and draw for a bit.  Maybe work on something for his portfolio.  Or maybe just draw out some more creatures.  He had gotten a book from the library on special effects from different monster movies and he had been copying some of the concept art.  

He threw them in his backpack and started grabbing piles of laundry.

The evening fell into a familiar pattern.  Jonathan got the remainder of dinner ready and checked El’s homework.  When Joyce got home, she was tired and felt gross from a day of cleaning houses.  She poured out her gratitude for Jonathan, though feeling like it was never enough.  Then she excused herself to get washed up before dinner.  Will came in lugging the clean laundry and setting it in his room to be folded later.

Dinner involved a dance that El had caught onto by now.  It was a lot of smiles, even if they were forced.  All of them pretended to be happy to spare the other, even though she could tell they were all sad in their own ways.  The conversations were lighter, only the best things from the day, the “highlights.”  

“How was your day, El?”

“Good.  I like the book from English class.”

Will cut in, jokingly, “You like The Old Man and the Sea?”

She straightened, and her eyebrows furrowed a bit.  She was being called on to defend her book, much like the squabbles she had seen the party engage in: which movie was the best, the better comic book character, the better writer.

“It’s a good book,” she stated.

“All he does is talk to himself.”

“That’s what I like.”  She thought a moment, “You hear his thoughts.  It’s quiet but…” she searched for the right word, “meaningful.”  She settled on.

He shrugged.  “It’s easier to read at least.  I’m not reading the same line 40 times.”

“Just wait ‘til you get to Charles Dickens,” smirked Joyce.  

Will clasped his head in his hands.  “Don’t remind me.”

El enjoyed these bantering moments.  In the woods, before Hopper found her, El used to daydream about what it would have been like to be part of Mike’s family.  If everything they had wished had come true: if Nancy had been her sister and Mike her not-brother.  What their dinners would have been like, something she had only glimpsed at but wished for so desperately.  Now, she finally had it and,as grateful as she was, she hated what it had cost her.  

She wondered how long it would take for the dinner happiness to stop feeling like pretend.

Joyce insisted on cleaning up dinner and El volunteered to help.  She tended to be attached at the hip to Joyce when she got home.  Will went to tackle the clothes.  Jonathan walked over to his room, “You need some help?”

Will shook his head, holding one sock.  “You cooked dinner.  It’s fine.”  Will tried to find the other to match.

Jonathan picked the other up and handed it over.  “It’ll go faster with two.”  

Will shrugged and the two started folding.  Jonathan racked his brain for what to say.  It used to be so easy.  But these days, there was a divide and he felt like he was walking on eggshells, like he could never say anything right.  

“Hey, Will?”

“Yeah?”

Jonathan took a deep breath and hoped that what he said would help, “I know that going back today was rough.  You don’t need to tell me why.  I just want you to know that, I’m here.  Okay?  You’re not alone.  And I know that school feels like a nightmare right now but you just need to find your pack, and I think you will here.  It might be with art class, or something else but you’ll be okay.”

“Yeah.  Thanks.”  There was sharpness in his words, a knife’s edge in his stance.  He snapped the jeans as he folded them and his lips were tight.  

They folded in silence.  Jonathan didn’t know what he’d said but he decided not to press, despite the urge.  

After a moment, Will asked, “Is that what you did?  Did you ‘find your pack’?”

“Well, I’m trying-”

“Because it sounds to me like you’re talking out of your ass.”

Jonathan was thrown.  Will had never taken this tone or swore at him.  It felt surreal.  

The floodgates had opened up and Will couldn’t stop himself.  “You don’t know that the people in this town won’t be ten times worse than Hawkins!”

Jonathan snapped back, “Oh, I’m sorry, are you comparing them to the flayed?  Because I think they stand a pretty good shot in comparison.”

“I’d have taken my chances with them all over again if it meant I could have been with my friends.  It took me YEARS to make those friends and I lost them.  And what?  You think I can just make more?”

“I wasn’t trying to say it was easy-”

“Yes you were!  You made it out like I am some socialite.  Like I’ll just turn around and make new friends!  When you don’t know SHIT about that!  You don’t have a friend in the GODDAMN WORLD!”

“I have friends, Will!”  Jonathan couldn’t believe he was going on the defensive against his little brother.

“You have family, not friends, and a girlfriend who’s a thousand miles away!  You don’t know JACK SHIT about meeting new people!”  

That struck a nerve, and a resentment bubbled up that he had always buried.  “You ever think that maybe you have something to do with that?!  That maybe I missed out on that because I spent all my time babysitting you?”

“I NEVER ASKED YOU TO!  I don’t want you to!  I just want you to LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“Fine!  Wish granted!”  Jonathan stormed out and Will slammed the door.  Jonathan stood there with ugly feelings on his chest and sour words in his mouth.  He couldn’t quite process it.  This had never happened.  Never.

There were stupid squabbles when they were kids, before Lonnie left.  There was teasing and annoyance and some back and forth arguments.  But they never yelled.  Will had never cursed at him.  And Jonathan had never, never voiced the bitterness.  This was all new and Jonathan hated every bit of it.  

Joyce walked over to him, gently.  “What happened?”

“He… Will and I… we had a fight.  I… I don’t know… what happened.”

Joyce sighed.  “Let’s make some tea.”

Jonathan glimpsed El wringing a towel in the corner of his eye.  Joyce turned to El.  “Sweetie, I need to talk to Jonathan for a moment.”  She kissed El’s head.  “I’ll be in, I just need a bit.”  El nodded and went to her room.

Joyce put on a kettle and they sat down at the table.  

Jonathan clenched his hair in his hands, “Why did I say that?  I blamed him… I told him he was the reason I didn’t have friends.”

Joyce gently took his hand away from his head and held it.

“You have a very different relationship with your brother.  My brothers?  We used to say that stuff all the time to each other.  But you never did that with Will.  You were always gentle and when your father left, you took on the role of dad to Will in a lot of ways.  That wasn’t fair to either of you.  Just like it wasn’t fair to move you all so far away.”

“We had to…”

“But Will is mad about it.  He’s going to be mad about it for a long time, and we need to let him.”

“...I feel like I don’t even know him anymore… like we left him back in Hawkins.”

Joyce squeezed Jonathan’s hand.  “Do you remember when your father left?”

“Yeah.”  The mention of his father made him scowl involuntarily.  

“Do you remember how bitter you were?”

Jonathan shook his head.  “I wasn’t bitter.  I was relieved that he was gone.”  

“Maybe a part of you was but that wasn’t the only thing you felt.  Your grades dropped that year.  I had multiple parent teacher conferences.  You didn’t want to play baseball anymore.  You skipped out on the after school program.”

“Will and I never went to the after school program.”

“Yeah, because you kept walking home with him.  You said that you forgot.  You refused to go and after two weeks of me paying for a program, that wasn’t being used, I gave up.”

Jonathan seemed bewildered, “I don’t remember any of that.”  

“It was a fast few months, or it seems like it was now.  It was before we really settled into our groove.  There was an adjustment period.  And you needed it.  But Will never got that.  I watched him.  After Lonnie left, he made it his job to make us happy.  He didn’t let us see how things hurt him.  He has always tried to be strong for us.  But now, after everything, he’s tired of smiling.  He’s angry, he’s bitter, and he’s allowed to be.  We need to let him feel this, and work through this. We need to still be there for him even if he’s being miserable and moody.  He deserves our patience.”

Jonathan swirled his spoon around and watched the sugar dissolve.  “Did I act like this?”

“You didn’t swear like that.  But you lashed out at me.  You blamed me for him leaving.”

Jonathan’s head bolted up, “What?!  No.  There’s no way.”

“Yeah, honey.  You were grieving.”  

Jonathan couldn’t process that.  “Mom, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s water under the bridge, sweetie.  You apologized the same night.  I knew you didn’t mean it.”

“Was I like that with Will?”

Joyce looked toward Will’s door and shook her head.  “You were gentler with him.  You tried your best to make up for Lonnie being gone.  You have always tried to fill that hole for Will.  So, it only makes sense that you get some of the teenage rebellion aimed at you.”  She said it with a laugh but it was hollow.  He could hear the echoes of her own disappointment, like she had failed them somehow.

Jonathan squeezed her hand back.  “I wouldn’t trade it for anything.  We’ve got good roots, and we’ll make it through.”

She smiled at him.  

Jonathan looked back down the hallway.  “I should probably go apologize.”

She shook her head.  “You need to give him time.  Let him come to you when he’s ready.  For now, give him space and drink your tea.”

[todo-ho-ki]

If It’s Convenient For You, Pt. 5

Here it is! The short-awaited part 5! It took me forever to even think of something I’m so sorry dolls. But this one is more of a mess around thing I guess? It’s kind of fillerific and not totally necessary. I really hope you guys enjoy 

Word Count: 2,069

Pairing: BakugoXReader

Warnings: Swearing, blood

@chims-kookies @velvet-kissesss you said you had post notifs on but I’ll tag you just in case!

Part 1  Part 2   Part 3   Part 4     Part 6

Holy shit.  All you could feel was relief. They were finally here.

He hopped off the roof and landed terrifyingly close to the man, wrapping a hand around his throat.

"If you don't, we're gonna have a problem," he growled. The man looked absolutely terrified, trembling under his grip. It was honestly a little terrifying to watch the ferocious, untamed smile consume Bakugo's face. You watched a hand reach out for Bakugo's arm

. "I wouldn't if I were you. I have some bad news," His tone took on a quality you'd never heard in a voice before. "There's no way you're winning." His free hand began to crackle with little explosions.

"Now!" He yelled and you watched excitedly as a path of ice began creeping toward them both. Bakugo jumped away at the last second as the ice encased the man's ankles and knees, then his waist and arms, leaving only his head exposed.

"What the-?"

"Only idiots concentrate on one enemy at a time. Idiots and bad villains." All his struggling was to no avail as Todoroki strolled casually around the corner, hands in his pockets.

"Get the others out of here. The police are on their way."

Bakugo scoffed. "I'm already on it." His arms crossed as he plodded toward the building, a scowl on his face.

"Are you all right?" Todoroki bent over you curiously.

"Uh, well, not really."

"Hmm. Let's get this wound taken care of." He knelt near your bad leg and you winced as he picked up the hem of your skirt.

There was no time for him to do anything; a sudden explosion erupted from the building, blowing out the windows and shaking the ground.

Todoroki was quick to shield you from the glass, a wall of ice covering the two of you. He let out a soft sigh as his eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

"I didn't say blow up the building." His exasperated tone made you chuckle.

Kirishima rushed out from around the corner, breathless. "Dude! Did he- that wasn't the plan!" He surveyed the damage. "Jeez." He ran in yelling for Bakugo, who met him at the door screeching.

"What did you do?"

"Those assholes tried to take me hostage!"

"So? You blew up the building! Overkill, man."

Their arguing voices carried in the wind. Your eyelids grew heavy as the other two dealt with the fallout of Bakugo's temper tantrum. You didn't even realize how tired you were, leg throbbing in an excruciating pain you couldn't deal with right now.

"Is he always this hard to handle?" Todoroki's expression told you everything you needed to know.

The vibrations of Bakugo's heavy steps fell across the asphalt and Todoroki's wall of ice melted.

"Whatever! I took care of it, didn't I? There were no other people in there!" Bakugo yelled back.

"No! You didn't! You wanted to run in blasting first and asking questions later! And we told you that was stupid because there were bystanders and a hostage, so you sulked in a corner! And then you did it anyway! Not manly! You could've hurt someone."

You surveyed Bakugo's face for any semblance of an answer. You'd seen him fight and rescue on TV many times. He was definitely smart and more than able to come up with a good plan. So why was he being so reckless now?

"Well, I didn't! Everyone is fine!"

Everyone? Even me, lying on the ground bleeding?

Maybe they'd decided your wound wasn't so lethal you needed immediate treatment. But even in the wake of that, it was almost like they were doing an exercise, not actually rescuing someone.

The ideas bounced off in your head while you acquired whiplash watching the two argue back and forth.

Are they not.. phased at all? I'm bleeding to death slowly!

"Excuse me!" Ther stopped to look at you, almost stunned you interrupted. "I. Have. Been. Stabbed! And I'm bleeding profusely! Can someone please do literally anything?" You scolded them with a pretty fiery passion.

Kirishima looked embarrassed as he sat you up against your car.

Not at all what I was going for, but this'll do. Your arms crossed with a huff.

"Sorry we're late," Kirishima smiled. "I'm glad we meet again though." You couldn't help but smile. Kirishima's attitude was infectious.

"Again?" Bakugo muttered, confusion clear on his face. Even in your stupor, it didn't make it past you.

"Oh my god." You were nearly dumbfounded. His stupid-looking face told you everything you needed to know. This idiot didn't recognize you outside of the store.

"You-I-" Your head turned to Kirishima for some assistance, but he was hopelessly embarrassed.

"Dude. She's the girl from the convenience store," he strained, eyebrows raising and scrunching together.

"Oh, this is that brat?" He gave you a lazy once-over.

"I swear to god if I could stand I'd fight you right now."

"Can you get her out of here Katsuki? She's bleeding pretty bad and you can get to the hospital faster than an ambulance. We'll handle the police and..the people. And probably the news." Kirishima helped you stand up finally, bracing you against his side.

Bakugo took a look around the parking lot for a moment.

"Trying to run away?" You joked. "I'm not that awful to be around." Your words didn't even register as he pulled the headband off Kirishima and ripped it in two in one smooth motion.

"Hey!"

"Hush."

He knelt down and wrapped half of the band around the top of your leg as a tourniquet and you had to do everything in your power not to buckle under the feel of his warm hands ghosting your thigh.

He's not even going to ASK!?

You were lucky you had Kirishima's waist to dig into or a hand probably would've ended up grabbing Bakugo's messy hair. You were certain your red face was a dead giveaway as his fingertips grazed your skin lightly to tie a knot in the fabric. And in your stomach.

He wrapped the other half around the wound itself twice as gently as before. You shrieked a little as he looked up, not bothering to stand quite yet.

"How's that?" His voice suddenly grew soft, which wasn't doing you any favors. "It's- fine," the words barely crossed your lips. You were in a daze, his questioning red eyes holding you hostage.

"Good. I don't need you bleeding all over my clothes." He took more liberties with Kirishima's clothing, ripping his sleeve off of his shirt and cleaning all the blood off your leg that wasn't dried.

You nearly lost your mind as he stood back up, towering over you, arms outstretched as he wrapped one around your shoulder and picked up your legs. 

You didn't even have time to react to his snide comment before a tingle shot up your back and you were forced to swallow whatever words you were about to say.

His hands were so insanely warm and soft. The heat mixed with the cold air and you felt goosebumps on your arms and neck, though you were certain it had almost nothing to do with the temperature. You buried your face in his shoulder, hoping maybe he just wouldn't notice your reddening cheeks and shivers.

"Try not blow her up too. Or steal her clothes,"Kirishima chided, motioning to his lack of sleeve.

"Yeah yeah. Wouldn't dream of either."

Did you like that he said that? Every passing moment made you more curious to find out.

He took off into the night, bounding effortlessly, the moon giving a slight illumination to his still face. You dared sneak a peek at his features and damn if he wasn't just as beautiful as he was the other day, no trace of anger in his face. A soft gasp crossed your lips and his eyes flicked to the side.

"Nervous?" He asked.

"No. Well, maybe a little." Your breath was catching in your throat but it wasn't because of any airtime.

"You're not gonna get sick or somethin' are you?"

"Wh-no! I wouldn't dream of it." Your eyes trailed down to his jawline. You were pressed so close to his face. It was driving you mad how little distance you had to close to press your lips against his neck.

Don't do anything stupid. Don't do anything embarrassing.

But you didn't feel your hands unclasp themselves. You didn't feel yourself reaching for the side of his face, hand connecting with soft skin. You didn't even realize you were staring at him with your mouth half open in awe of how gorgeous he really was. But he did.

"You better watch yourself, you fucking idiot. Don't touch me like that," he growled, eyes darting to you in warning before snapping back to the endless night in front of him.

You were sure you were a million degrees hotter than a second ago, letting out a squeak of shame.

What the actual fuck am I thinking? Fucking idiot is right! If you're gonna be the worst can't you at least wait until you can get away?

The wind kicked up as your embarrassment soared far beyond what you were sure was appropriate for one person to feel.

"Uh, yeah. If you wanna just literally drop me, just like, right on the ground so I can die, that'd be cool."

When in doubt, vocally wish for death!

It seemed a bit carried by the wind, but you could've sworn you heard some sort of noise resembling a laugh from his chest.

Did he just- did I make him laugh? Was that a fucking laugh?

There wasn't much time to ponder. "Don't tempt me, stupid woman. You're just lucky I'm used to people thinking I'm pretty."

You immediately opened your big stupid mouth to remark. " Too bad you're not used to people thinking you're bearable to be around."

With that you felt both his hands clench bruisingly on your skin.

"You talk a lot of shit for someone who couldn't fight off one dude with a knife."

"And you talk the perfect amount of shit for someone I'd consider an asshole. What's your point?" You sassed, rolling your eyes as he landed in front of the hospital.

Without warning he pulled his arm out from under you, forcing you to land on your good foot. Luckily you were paying attention. A stinging sensation buzzed at your ankle and the warmth from him was gone, leaving you frigid and angry.

"Ow! Asshole! What would you have done if I landed on my other leg and died right here?" His stare was almost incredulous as you kept yourself latched to his shoulders. 

You really were wishing for death, perhaps in the form of a meteor striking earth. You were glad he shook off the minute before this one, but you would be fine if you never saw him again.

"You're so fucking dramatic. Let go of me." He picked your lingering arm off his shoulders.

"Cool. Guess I'll just hobble into the hospital then."

He rolled his eyes and picked you up again, much more roughly than before. A feeling of warmth shot through you and your eyes fluttered closed. "Wow. Such a brat," He scoffed. He trudged up the walkway quickly, probably eager to get rid of you.

Maybe..you were a little bit of a brat.. you didn't finish the thought as you fell asleep within seconds. No longer flying through the air meant you were truly warm and the pain in your leg was finally returning to a dull throb.

"Oi! Wake up!" Bakugo's gruff voice startled you awake just before he tossed you into a wheelchair like you were a beanbag of sorts.

"Jesus! Are you this rough with everyone you have to save?"

"Most of them are smart enough to not give me so much damn sass. Or they aren’t awake. You're obviously not that seriously injured if you can't keep your mouth shut. So we'll wait for a room." 

We?

Your arms crossed as he wheeled you into the hospital.

How does this asshole stay in business? What agency looked at this dude and said 'yeah, no liabilities here!'

He checked in at the front desk and surprisingly sat down next to you, crossed arms matching your own. Was he really going to not only deny you emergency services, but annoy you the whole time you were waiting, too?