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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

Text

All is Fair in Dice and War

***Soooo, @bagelsinatoaster I love this request. However, you didn't specify which board game and as I am a huge nerd I decided to take some creative liberties and combine this with another idea I've been meaning to write which is: MC introducing the demon bros to Dungeons and Dragons. I certainly had fun with this and I hope you like it!*** Summary: Leviathan's world is flipped upside down when MC tells him there is a game that basically allows him to be the Lord of Shadows in real life!! He demands that his brothers join him as MC introduces them all to the chaotic shit show that is Dungeons & Dragons. For once, it was a peaceful day in the House of Lamentation. Lucifer was lounging in the living room with a cursed record playing softly in the background. For once, Satan had willingly joined him and was sitting by the fireplace, thumbing through a book on the human world. Belphie had been passed out on the couch when he arrived and was still laying there with an impressive puddle of drool collecting near his mouth. Even Asmodeus and Beel had joined in, with Asmodeus gently humming to himself as he painted his nails and Beelzebub happily munching on a snack as he enjoyed the sight of his family getting along. Yes. It was perfectly quiet and peaceful, and Lucifer didn't even have any traces of his regular migraine. But of course, nothing good lasts forever. Everyone jumped as the door slammed open and a wide-eyed Leviathan dragged you into the room. The two you very closely followed by Mammon loudly complaining. "Oi! You're gonna hurt them! Cut it out, Levi!" Lucifer sighed and closed his eyes, momentarily mourning the peace that he had just barely begun to enjoy, and closed his book. "Leviathan, let MC go. What are you freaking out about this time?" Lucifer regretted asking the moment the words left his mouth. Levi looked at it with the expression he only ever got when his limited edition Ruri-Chan merch arrived; his eyes were wide and glittering with excitement while his face bore a grin so large that Lucifer was surprised it didn't rip his skin. The third-born was practically vibrating as he let go of your wrist and pushed you forward. "Tell them! Tell them about the game!"

You laughed at Levi's excitement and casually rubbed your wrist. "I was just telling Leviathan about a game that we play in the human world called Dungeons and Dragons-" "You get to make a fantasy world that everyone plays in, and everyone makes characters. You can be a wizard and cast spells against a huge monster! Or a war hero fighter that has been betrayed by his brother! Or a noble knight who is looking for his lost kingdom! And the best part is that it's real!" Levi interrupted, nearly jumping in place as stars danced in his eyes. You put your hands out towards him to try and calm him a bit. "Well, not entirely real. It is played in person, but it's a role play tabletop game, meaning it mostly relies on the players' imagination. That is unless you have thousands of dollars to spend on 3D maps and figurines of your characters." Levi's eyes grew even wider, if possible, as he started shaking his hands up and down. "I CAN HAVE A FIGURINE OF A CHARACTER THAT I MADE?! GAAAAAAAAAHH!" A pillow flew across the room and hit Levi square in the face as a now awake Belphegor glared at him. "Will. You. Shut. Up?" the Avatar of Sloth hissed as a dark dangerous aura grew around him. Beel gently patted his twin's head in hopes of calming him. Leviathan pouted as he noticed no one else seemed to be getting excited about it. "C-Come on guys! This isn't even a video game! It's a thing that we can all do together and personalize it to be something that everyone will like. It'll be fun! Right MC?" You nodded as you gently tossed Belphie's pillow back over to him. "Yeah. I love D&D. I played it all the time in the human world. There's action, suspense, and even romance if you really wanted it," a couple of the brothers perked up at that. "I could put together a one-shot for you guys to try it out if you'd like? I'll help you make your characters, and we can all get together for an evening and play it sometime in a couple weeks." The room went quiet as everyone thought it over. Most of them had no interest in the game itself, but if it was organized by you... "I'm in," Beel decided with a nod. "I think it will be fun. All of us trying something new; it could be neat." Satan casually flipped a page in his book, "The creative aspect of it is definitely appealing. We'd be the masters of our own fate, and that most certainly piques my interest." Asmodeus smirked as he put the cap on his nail polish. "And you said it could be whatever we want? My, one might say that this game could help our wildest fantasies come true~" he made sure to wink at you as he giggled. Belphie, who had only just got back his pillow, scrunched up his face in disgust and launched it at Asmo. "Don't make this weird Asmo," he looked over at you and shrugged, "So long as you do all the work in putting together the character thing, sure. Why not?" Mammon looked over at you from the corner of his eye. "Ya mean to tell me, that you can make it so I'm some awesome, rich, and powerful prince?" Asmo scoffed as he pushed the pillow off his lap. "Please Mammon, even the world of make-believe has its limitations." Mammon blushed as he growled at his brother. You just chuckled and teasingly elbowed his side. "Don't listen to him, Mammon. There is a set amount of how much money you start out with depending on your class and background, but I'm sure we can find something that will make you happy." The second-born blushed even more as he grumbled quietly under his breath. Lucifer tilted his head in thought. "I suppose that if everyone else is playing, naturally I must as well," he stood and began to make his way to his office. "I look forward to seeing what you come up with MC." The next two weeks were spent planning and carefully figuring out the details of the one-shot and the characters that everyone was going to play. Levi was, of course, the first one who came to you to build his character. The two of you spent hours going through the Player's Handbook and sourcebooks to find the perfect build to recreate the Lord of Shadows. In the end, you put

together a human fighter that you gave a couple magic items to make Levi's vision really come to life. It seemed basic, but for the Lord of Shadows, it was perfect. The moment the two of you finished, Levi dove to his computer and ordered a custom-made mini that looked exactly like his character. Satan was genuinely interested in the game, especially after he learned about all the lore and rules behind the different classes and races. You had just been chilling in your room one day when the door burst open. Satan stood there with wide eyes holding a copy of Volo's Guide to Monsters. "MC, why didn't you tell me there are cat people?!" You chuckled, knowing exactly where this was going. "They're called tabaxi, but yeah, they're basically cat people. Would you like to play as one?" He scoffed and snapped the book shut. "Is that even a question? Of course, I'm playing as one." After some discussion and bouncing back and forth between classes a couple of times, Satan settled on a tabaxi druid; that way he not only looked like a cat, but he could speak to them as well. After a few days of you spending time with his brothers focusing on getting their characters ready, Mammon came to you wanting the coolest, most epic character ever. At first, it was clear that he wasn't fully invested in the process, but as he saw the customizable options and all the cool stuff that his character could have, you got his attention. You ended up designing a golden teifling rogue (you tried to tell Mammon that teifling usually wasn't yellow, but he gave you such a sad look that you couldn't say no) that was decked out with piercings and gems all over its horns and tail. He tried to act like he wasn't that excited about it, but one day during class you caught him doodling what looked like a stick figure version of the character on his sheet with a big smile on his face. Asmodeus came in shortly after Mammon finished,

insisting on having the most charming and beautiful character there was. You tapped your chin at the request. "I mean, stereotypically bards are extremely charming and...well seductive...almost too seductive. But that's only thei-" Asmo had hearts in his eyes before you could even finish. "That's what I want to be!" You sighed and made a mental note not to include any dragons in the session as you marked Asmo down to be an elven bard and helped him create his character sheet. You hadn't heard anything from Lucifer for nearly that entire first week, until one day as you were lounging in the living room, he walked in holding a stack of resource books. "Ah, MC. I've been looking for you. I wanted to inform you that I will be playing a half-elf multiclassing as a paladin and hex-blade warlock." You blinked at him as he put all the books down in front of you. "O-Oh. Would you like help putting together your character sheet?" He just grinned and began to make his way out of the room once more. "I've already done it. I must admit that this was quite a bit more interesting than I thought it would be," and with that he was gone, leaving you to try and figure out what had just happened. With only a few days left until the one-shot, you had to go find the twins and get them to make their characters. Beel apologized like crazy for you having to track him in down in order to get his character made. The poor guy was in the middle of peak Fangol season and had completely forgotten. Once the two of you sat down in the kitchen with an empty character sheet in one hand and snacks in the other, Beel gave you his full attention. He put a lot of thought in his character and wanted to make it really good since he appreciated that you were doing something that they could all do as a family. He bashfully decided to play a halfling. Not only did the little creatures share his love for food, but he thought it would be neat to try being small for once. His class was also a surprise. After carefully flipping through all of the class options, he had eventually settled on a cleric. "They're the healers, right? This way I can help the others if someone gets hurt." You gave him a huge hug then and there. Belphegore, on the other hand, was not so easy to work with. "Belphie, come on. Just flip through the book and choose something!" He groaned into his pillow and rolled onto his side to glare at you. "I told you I would play if you did all the work for me. Me flipping through a book is work. It's not happening." After an entire hour of trying to get him to cooperate, you gave up. In retaliation you made his character a goblin barbarian, just to drive in the fact of how much of a brat he was acting like.

Finally, the day came for you all to play the one-shot, and much like you expected, it was complete and utter chaos. You had tried to maintain some structure and keep everyone on track, but it was hopeless. Levi and Satan were taking the game seriously and, Diavolo bless them, were the only reason their party was making any progress. Mammon was trying to pick-pocket every non-player character that they met while Asmo distracted them by flirting. This worked great for them until Mammon got caught and would've died from the resulting injuries if it wasn't for Beel. Speaking of Beel, the poor fella was trying his best to do well in the game but kept getting confused by all the rules and different stats and modifiers. Belphegor spent most of his time, trying to explain it to his twin, but in the end, Beel accidentally ate his dice and Belphie passed out on his shoulder. And then there was Lucifer. He had been mostly quiet the entire game. Surprisingly, he let Levi and Satan take the charge in any investigations and puzzle-based interactions, but he did so with a smirk. You had a funny feeling in your stomach that he was up to something, and you were right. It was the final boss. Satan and Levi were on the edge of their seats, having worked so hard to get the party to this point. You smiled, knowing that one of the best parts of D&D was finally taking down the big bad. In this case, you had prepared a beholder for them to fight. It would be no easy task. The fight should have required them to work together in an epic battle of wits, magic and melee attacks. Only, when everyone rolled initiative, Lucifer went first. The eldest smiled as his eyes sparked menacingly. "For my bonus action, I'd like to use my hex blade's curse on it, which allows me to add my plus four proficiency bonus to all damage, and makes any rolls of nineteen or twenty critical hits. I will then use my long sword with divine smite at third level to attack him and attack him again using my extra attack," barely giving you time to process what he said, Lucifer rolled his dice twice. "And that would be a nineteen and a natural twenty, meaning they're both criticals due to the curse. That should hit, yes?" "Wha-" You could only watch as Lucifer, now with twice the amount of damage due to his critical rolls pulled out a disgusting number of dice and rolled them all. And of course, with his luck, they all rolled high. "So that's 90 points of damage plus the extra damage from the curse and the bonus from my duelist ability per attack, brings this 102 points," he smugly perched his chin on top of his hands as the table gaped at him. You gulped and looked down at the beholder's character sheet, "Y-You just took o-over half of his hit points in one round..." His grin widened at the information, "What, like it's hard?" You never got the chance to finish the game, as Satan burst into his demon form and pounced on Lucifer, the eldest laughing like a mad man, while Levi tore up his character sheet in a fit of jealous rage. Levi never asked to play with everyone again after that. ***This was just so self-indulgent and I just- I loved it. It combined two of my favourite things and I have never been happier. This was more crack than fluff, but either way, it was fun and I hope you nerds out there enjoyed it 🥰 Thanks again for the request @bagelsinatoaster!*** Taglist: @mimik248 @roseytoesy @ester-is-here

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mizunetzu · 4 years

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ok ok so my request 👉🏻👈🏻

it’s the most obvious thing but i have a full crush on bakugou, so can you please write about him x male reader, where the reader is like.. having nightmares or almost doesn’t sleep because of his quirk (idk like maybe he can hear something special or predict anything bad, doesn’t really matter) but feels safe around bakugou so he always falls asleep around him or even oN him and katsuki is like “😡(❤��)shit whatever” and the reader is kinda shy about that but totally ok with their friends being like “wow bro that’s kinda gay :> ” because he is comfortable with “oh that’s because i aM the gay✌🏻” and his classmates love him and everything and would never mock.. but one time someone from another class was really really rude bcs of that or said that katsuki hates it so the reader starts to avoid bakugou and bakugou geTS MAD about it because reader is just his and no one else’s >:0 maybe a little confession from him in the end, maybe some.. *gay coughing* angy k*ss from him

please make it angsty but with a fluffy ending please please and thank you very much in advance💙 sorry if it’s too big i can’t explain my thoughts properly thaha

Bruh I just realized how long this request is 💀💀 also look at me, writing it like decades after you requested it 😭 pls enjoy I’m actually quite proud of it (also isn’t that gif perfect hahah get it bc the prompt was abt like sleeping and bakugou’s sleeping and-yeah I’ll let u read now)

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Bakugou x reader - Angry Insomniacs

⚠️Warnings - mild arguing, it’s not that bad

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

“Why are you always fuckin’ sleeping on me?”

It first started during the Sports Festival. The chicken race and cavalry battle really took a toll on (Y/n), and he was suffering harsh quirk drawbacks. That, being drowsiness.

Somewhere on the stands, (y/n’s) eyes grew heavier and heavier until he realized he had fallen asleep. He also didn’t realized until he woke up that no one disturbed him when he was near Bakugou. Be it fear, or just plain respect, (Y/n) seemed to get the best rest when he was with Bakugou. Not even Iida dared to wake him up when he dosed off on Bakugous shoulder.

He always made it a point to be in Bakugous vicinity when ever he could, taking naps with his head buried in his arms next to Bakugou at lunch, or having his head resting on his shoulder in the dorms.

“Oi! Don’t drift off on me!”

“Mm? Sorry, Bakugou.”

(Y/n) rubbed his eyes as he weakly pushed off the common room couch, stretching and yawning as he did so. “Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

“N-no, dumbass! Fuck kinda question is that, shit-for-brains?!”

“I’ll see you there later then, Bakugou.” (Y/n) gave a slight nod, Bakugou practically foaming at the mouth already, before trotting off the continue his nap in his own room.

Before heading to his room though, he walked into the kitchen to grab a post-nap time snack. Tsuyu, who was already digging in the fridge, stepped back so (Y/n) could grab whatever he wanted.

Tsu eyed (Y/n’s) slightly tousled hair. “Did you take another nap on bakugou-chan? Kero.”

(Y/n) hummed out a “yes.” Tsu hummed back in acknowledgment. Kaminari and Kirishima, unintentionally, started listening in from their place in the kitchen after hearing Bakugou being mentioned.

Tsuyu put a finger to her lip. “Ne, (Y/n)-chan, why do you always take naps on Bakugou-chan? It’s always him, kero, and you go out of your way to make sure it’s only him.”

“Why?” (Y/n) pulled off the carton of milk stubbornly hanging on to the fridge. “Because I like Bakugou. Duh. And I sleep better near people I like.

Kaminari gasped comically while Kirishima sputtered and choked on his words. Not just listening anymore, Kaminari but in. “L-like? Like, ‘like’-like?!”

Kaminari and Kirishima joined Tsuyu and (Y/n) near the fridge. (Y/n) nodded out an “mm-hm.”, whilst grabbing a cup from the cabinet.

“So you’re like...” Kirishima made wild, indecipherable, gestures with his hand. Eventually, after realizing no one was taking the hint, brought his voice down to a whisper.

“...like...gay..?”

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell us?!” Kaminari grasped at his blond hair. (Y/n) thought for a moment, poured himself a glass of milk, and shrugged.

“I don’t know. You never asked.”

“And you’re so comfortable just telling us now? Why, kero-kero?”

“Because I’m gay as fuuuuuck.” (Y/n) took a swig of milk like it was a shot of whiskey. “And it’s not like it was a secret or anything.”

“Though I don’t think Bakugou knows. He’s too angry about me sleepin’ on him all the time to actually care about me.”

(Y/n) polished off his glass of milk. He set the cup down gently into the sink. “Eh, it’s not like I actually care for what he thinks about me.”

“See ya, I’m gonna finish my nap.”

“Uh-bye”

“Bye-bye.”

“Bye, kero.”

———

(Y/n) yawned as his head lolled off of Bakugou’s shoulder. He hissed, dusting off his shoulder angrily.

“Go sleep somewhere else!”

“I’m just goin’ to the bathroom, Bakugou, I’ll be back. Keep your shoulder warm for me.”

(Y/n) weakly stood up from his chair, and sluggishly walked out of the cafeteria. Damn, his feet felt heavy. Maybe if he hurried to the bathroom, he’d get back in time to catch a few more minutes of sleep before Bakugou exploded on him or lunch ended.

(Y/n’s) shoulder accidentally caught on someone else’s, making him stumble back and rub his shoulder. Monoma tilted his chin up in a mocking fashion.

“Ara? Is that (L/n) (Y/n) from class 1-A I see?”

(Y/n) nodded, only half processing his words as he continued on his way to the bathroom. Monoma followed somewhat behind, spewing words and one-liners that went in one ear and out the other. That is, until,

“Honestly, you would’ve thought that angry blond kid would’ve told you by now”.

(Y/n’s) ear perked up. He halted to a stop, Monoma following suit and shoving his hands smugly in his pockets. “What’s this about Bakugou?”

“Oh? He really didn’t tell you, huh? That’s...” Monoma stifled a condescending snicker. “...surprising.”

(Y/n) stepped closer. “C’mon man, tell me what?”

Monoma sighed. “Well,”

“I heard that Mr. Blasty, matter-o-factly,” Monoma jabbed his pointer finger into (Y/n’s) chest. “Really, really hates it when you sleep on, or near him. Actually,”

“I think he just hates you in general.”

(Y/n) furrowed his brows. He’s lying. He’s lying. He likes him, doesn’t he? Bakugou likes him, or else he wouldn’t have lead him on for so long, right?

Because he wouldn’t let just anyone sleep on his shoulder...right?

“You’re lying.”

“Well, believe what you want, honestly,” Monoma made a show of crossing his arms dramatically. “But you should see the way he shit-talks and glares at you in you’re sleep. It’s not like he can push you off though, you’re ‘just so persistent you’ll never leave him the fuck alone’.”

(Y/n) shoved his hands in his pockets. Monoma raised his hands in defense. “His words, not mine.”

(Y/n) turned on his heel and began to speed walk to the bathroom. Monoma yelled out from his spot in the empty hallway.

“Oh? You don’t want to hear what he thinks about your little crush on him?”

(Y/n) froze. He was under the assumption that everyone but him knew, could he be wrong? He pressed his lips into a fine line, turning around as composedly as he could. Though, he couldn’t mask the fearful curiosity in his eyes.

Monoma grinned. It was an unpleasant, sarcastic grin, one that didn’t look peaceful or pleasing at all.

“Well, I doubt that there’s anything to to say at all, so does it really ma-“

“What...what does he say about me?” (Y/n’s) voice quivered. He knew he was falling into Monoma’s trap, that he was just trying to provoke him, that he was looking for any kind of reaction, but his curiosity got the best of him. It really did, because Monoma’s words stabbed spears into (Y/n’s) heart, word by word.

“Blasty thinks it’s fucking disgusting how you like him, like, as another dude. Like honestly, he thinks you take him for an idiot for thinking he actually didn’t know! And the fact you sleep so close to him know full well you want to get in his pants?! He thinks you’re a pervert! A lazy shit! A fag! Ahahaha!”

Monoma loud cackles were cut short when he suddenly slumped over. He sunk to the ground, revealing Kendo, holding one big hand up and the other to her waist. She most likely knocked Monoma out once she heard his condescending retorts from the cafeteria.

Kendo sighed, bending down the haul Monoma’s arm over her shoulder. Her heavy glare softened once she caught sight of (Y/n’s) buggy eyed face starting at the ground where Monoma was.

“Sorry...he didn’t say anything too harsh, right?” Kendo’s words were gentle, but they sounded practically inaudible to (Y/n’s) traumatized ears.

He wordlessly staggered past her, heading back into the cafeteria to grab his lunch and sit elsewhere. He supposed he wouldn’t bother Bakugou anymore. Since he’s so damn ‘persistent’, he figured he’d stop bothering him for the rest of the day.

He wished he wasn’t so curious about what Bakugou thought of him. Like people say, ignorance is bliss. He could’ve gone his whole high school career without knowing Bakugou hated his every being. How was he going to face him in class knowing every pointer glare, every scoff, every insult was genuine?

(Y/n) felt his throat tighten. For the first time in years, (L/n) (Y/n) was fully awake.

——

It was the first time in many months that (Y/n) didn’t sit in the seat next to Bakugou, napping in his presence. He’d done it every day no fail, that is until this week. Actually, this is the 6th consecutive day he didn’t take a nap at all.

(Y/n) sat placid in his assigned seat, eyes wide and trying to keep awake. He couldn’t sleep without thinking of Bakugou, and every time he did it was always him scoffing and turning his back on him.

Every few seconds, (Y/n) would jolt harshly in his seat, rocking back and forth like a drug addict in withdrawal. He stared at his desk with eyes that could kill someone, and he dug his hands into his forearms to keep himself somewhat awake.

He didn’t hear Kirishima calling his name until he snapped his fingers infront of his face. The snap rang like a gunshot, surprising (Y/n) from his trance so badly he jolted back like he got electrocuted. Kirishima raised an eyebrow.

“You...ok man...?”

(Y/n’s) dry eyes landed fixed onto Kirishima. He relaxed, and let out a breath he didn’t know he was taking. “M’fine...”

His voice cracked like it hadn’t been used for days. (Y/n) let his eyes drift back forward, hunching back over and huddling his body like he was trying to squeeze himself to death. When Kirishima gave him a skeptical glare and crossed his arms, (Y/n) let out a small “m’ just tired, that’s all...” and gave the most pathetic smile known to man.

“If you’re so tired,” Mina, rested her arms on the back of (Y/n’s) chair. “Why don’t you sleep on Bakugou like you do every morn-“

“NO! I-I can’t do that!” (Y/n) whipped his head back, gripping the back of his chair so hard his hand turned white. Mina and Kirishima flinched, noticeably caught off guard with his sudden outburst. “I...can’t...I can’t do that...”

(Y/n) suddenly looked very awake, contrasting the way he looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes open the whole time they were in class.

(Y/n’s) breath steadied as he shut his mouth awkwardly. “M’sorry...for yelling...didn’t mean to...”

(Y/n) scrubbed at his eyes. The rush of adrenaline was already wearing off. Mina set her dainty pink hand on (Y/n’s) hunched form. “Why not...?”

“I just can’t.”

(Y/n) said nothing more. He went back to his occasional jolts awake and scrubbing his heavy eyes every 2 minutes. Kirishima sighed, shaking his head towards Bakugou, before shrugging his shoulders then forming an ‘X’ with his hands.

Bakugou clicked his tongue angrily, turning and facing back forward in his seat.

——

(Y/n) was practically seeing stars by the end of hero’s class.

It was a relatively simple assignment, 1 on 1 sparring, but it caused a lot of quirk use.

He fought both his tired eyes and Midoryia, but ultimately failing due to his harsh quirk drawbacks. Midoryia barely had to break a sweat to have (Y/n) come toppling down.

(Y/n) was ushered back into the horde of students murmuring “don’t mind” and “you did great!”, but he just slithered past and stood a few feet away from them, all the way in the back of the field.

All might was explaining something (Y/n) couldn’t quite hear. Not only because he was standing so far away, but because his hearing had been considerably wonky, not to mention the hissing, ringing sound irritating his eardrums.

“Oi.”

And even if the ringing had stopped and he could hear, his brain was too tuckered out to remember anything past five seconds ago.

“Oi!”

Gosh, speaking of his brain-

“OI! SHIT-FOR-BRAINS! YOU GONNA KEEP IGNORING ME OR YOU GONNA TELL ME WHY YOU’VE BEEN AVOIDIN’ ME?!”

Bakugou set off a small explosion. The blast wasn’t nearly as loud or powerful as in combat, but to a tired mans ears, it sounded like nukes. The ringing in (Y/n’s) ears spiked, and he cupped his ears tightly.

“B-Bakugou, nows not-“

“OH, YOU TRYNA TUNE ME OUT BY COVERIN’ YOUR EARS NOW?!” Another explosion. Bakugou’s gauntlets had been out for repairs since his last hero training, so (Y/n) could clearly see the glowing red and yellow spark from his fist. The ringing spiked again. His vision burned with sparks.

(Y/n) winced, saying nothing, and brought his hands to rub at his eyes. Bakugou eyebrow twitched.

“STOP IGNORING ME!”

Bakugou brought his hand out, his gloved hand starting to glow red with his next explosion. (Y/n) couldn’t take it anymore.

He stumbled forward, and grabbed Bakugou’s wrist. He shoved it out of the way, but his hand still ignited and set off a blast that propelled them straight to the ground.

“G-get off-a me!” Bakugou tried pushing (Y/n) off with his free hand.

(Y/n) pinned Bakugou’s glowing right hand by the wrist, using his other to hold down his other shoulder. (Y/n) would’ve never done something as ballsy and stupid as this, but he was too tired, too done, too much in pain to care.

“What are you actually trying to say!? All that stupid extra yelling and petty insults, they get you fucking nowhere! Spit it out! Or does trying to intimidate every single fucking person you meet just self-satisfaction?!”

Bakugou growled. He grabbed at (Y/n’s) shoulders, pushing off of him and pinning (Y/n) to the ground in his place.

“Then what about you, huh?!” Bakugou was angrily spitting at (Y/n’s) face. “Why the fuck did you stop getting enough sleep for your quirk?! Are you just that dumb that you stay up at night?!”

“I don’t wanna hear it from a stupid fucker like you, who can’t even take care of himself!”

(Y/n) hissed. He freed his dominant hand from Bakugou’s vice grip and pushed at Bakugou’s face, grabbing a fistful of his hair. “All you ever do is shit talk! Shut up! No one thinks it’s fucking cool!”

“What the hell are you even talking about?!”

The two wrestled on the ground, angrily grabbing and tugging at each other, and rolling around on the floor. There were shouts of “get Aizawa-no, get midnight-sensei!” and “All might, stop them!”, but the two were so caught up in their fight they couldn’t hear anything.

“Can’t you ever learn to mind your fucking Business?!”

“What the fuck does that even have to do with this!”

(Y/n) flipped Bakugou over one more time. He pushed him down by the forehead, pushing his head down into the ground while Bakugou flailed and kicked from underneath him.

“SHUT UP! WHY DO YOU EVEN FUCKIN’ CARE, BAKUGOU?! WHY DO...w-why do...wh...”

A sweet, sweet smell flooded (Y/n’s) senses. It smelt relaxing, tantalizing, it smelled like sleep. It smelled like sleep. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep so bad. Maybe he could just...

(Y/n) slowly sank from his spot on top of Bakugou, flopping on top of his body and going completely slack. Bakugou’s eyes widened, and he covered his nose.

Midnight strutted from above the two, waving away a few stray wisps of her mist. Bakugou hacked out a new breath, while (Y/n) laid on top of him, peacefully asleep for the first time in days.

“Well, it seems like you two already know without me saying it.” Midnight motioned over to two small robots carrying a stretcher. “I’ll just take him to recovery girl and he should wake up in-“

Bakugou pursed his lips and wrapped his arms around (Y/n’s) sleeping figure when Midnight extended her arm towards them. He tightened his arms around (Y/n).

“I’ll do it. S-since this piece of shit attacked me first and...I’ll just do it-!”

Midnight eyed him knowingly, before waving him off and mumbling something about ‘youth’.

——

(Y/n’s) eyes fluttered open. His body felt like it was broken in every way possible. It was so sore, it hurt even thinking about moving. (Y/n) laid there, with his eyes half open, contemplating whether or not he should close them again.

Would he be able to sleep, though? Even if he’d started sleeping near Bakugou as a ‘don’t-wake-me-up’ measure, it slowly stopped being just that and more a matter of he felt safe and comfortable around him. In a way, he’s become a bit dependent on him, which is probably a bad thing, but he didn’t care.

Sleeping with Bakugou felt best. But that wasn’t an option, now was it?

(Y/n) pursed his lips, an involuntary groan rumbling from his tired vocal cords. He continued staring at the blinding nurse office lights, staring until he saw spots in his vision.

“Stop doing that-do you wanna go fuckin’ blind?”

(Y/n) flinched. He hated the way that familiar, aggravated voice still stirred butterflies into his stomach. He glanced to his side, as if to make sure he wasn’t just hearing things.

He met eyes with Bakugou.

“Bout’ time you fuckin’ woke up. Been waitin’ forever, shit-for-brains.”

(Y/n) averted his eyes back up to the blinding floodlights. Bakugou scowled. “Oi! Don’t ignore m-“

“How long were you here for?”

Bakugou went silent. It was his turn to avert his eyes, albeit more angrily.

“...I was here since you fuckin’ fainted in class, idiot. I even carried your stupid body here from the dumbass carrier bots.”

(Y/n’s) eyes softened, unlike Bakugou’s, who glared at the floor just beside the chair he was sitting in. (Y/n) checked the big black clock mounted on top of Recovery Girl’s desk.

It was 6:00 pm.

If Bakugou was telling the truth, he’d been sitting there waiting for him to wake up for 4 hours straight.

“Bakugou-its been hours since class ended-you should be at the dorms by now-! Why did you-“

“Well if you told me why you suddenly started avoiding me we wouldn’t be here right now!”

(Y/n) let his mouth fall closed. Bakugou scoffed. “Well?!”

(Y/n) opened his mouth, but it clamped shut when Monoma’s words echoed in his mind. Bakugou looked at him with an expectant face.

“I can’t tell you.”

“WH-“ Bakugou sputtered angrily. “COURSE YOU CAN! THE FUCKS STOPPING YOU!”

“Nothing I-I just can’t!”

“WHY!? WHY NOT?!”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!”

“OK AND?! I LOVE YOU TOO!”

“THEN WHATS THE PROBLEM HERE!” (Y/n) shouted, before he cupped his mouth in realization. Bakugou’s eyes went wide aswell. “Wait I didn’t mean that-“

“YEAH! WHATS THE FUCKIN PROBLEM HERE?!” Bakugou recovered from his initial shock, already back to yelling. (Y/n) furrowed his brows with a blush.

“Wh..wait so-“

“I LIKE YOU, YOU LIKE ME, SO WHY THE FUCK DID YOU STOP SLEEPING ON ME?!”

“Wait but...” (Y/n’s) voice was barely above a whisper. “Don’t you, y’know...not like it...when I do that-?”

“DUMBASS! WHERE’D YOU GET THAT FROM?!” It seemed like Bakugou got angrier and angrier each passing second. It was hard to tell what (Y/n) found so attractive about him.

“From...from Monoma...?”

Bakugou looked angrier than ever. (Y/n) raised an eyebrow. “YOU-I CAN’T BELIEVE-! I-! FUCK IT!”

Bakugou snarled and practically shoved his face onto (Y/n’s), angrily stealing his breath away with a kiss. The kiss, surprisingly, was soft and gentle, despite Bakugou’s previous intensity. It seemed to calm Bakugou down, and cheer (Y/n) up.

The two slowly parted for air. It was quiet for a second, something that rarely happened near Bakugou.

“I thought you hated me...”

“W-why the fuck would I hate you...dumbass.” Bakugou rested his forehead on (Y/n’s) shoulder. His spiky tufts of blond hair tickling (Y/n’s) face.

“Because Monoma said so...?”

“I’m gonna kill that bastard.” Bakugou snarled, climbing into the cot (Y/n) was in. He pushed (Y/n) back down into the pillow, pulling up the white blanket and laying down next to him. He guided (Y/n’s) head-a tad bit forcefully-to his chest. “...after we sleep.”

Bakugou shut his eyes, half irritated and half embarrassed, while (Y/n) chuckled tiredly. He nuzzled his head into Bakugou’s chest.

“Goodnight, Bakugou.”

——

Extra:

Monoma walked into class 1-B the next morning. He yawned, still a bit tired, when he ran straight into someone.

“Hey, copycat fucker.”

Monoma looked up. The class was empty, with no one but Bakugou standing infront of him.

Fuck.

Needless to say, Bakugou got another 3 days of house arrest.

——————

Bru this was so long ong

#bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo #bakusquad #bakugou x male reader #bakugo x male reader #bakugou angst #bakugou x y/n #mha #mha fic #bnha #bnha fic #bnha x male reader #mha x male reader #mr scifijiz

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lifewithdavefarts · 3 years

Photo

DaveFarts - Episode 7 “The Noisy Roommate” [Episode List] Tim spends the night at Dave’s house and they have to share the latter’s full-sized bed. As they go to sleep, Dave soon makes sure that it’s gonna be a noisy night.

The episode is inspired by TheFartingWolf’s video/premise of the same name. I had a similar idea sometime ago but I figured I could just combine my story and the video for, I don’t know, a real 4D experience? With that said, I’m ready to delete this story should TheFartingWolf want me to do so.

Also keep in mind that this is not a story about the IRL person who made the video linked above, but rather two fictional characters.

The Noisy Roommate

“Thanks for having me over, bro.” I thanked Dave, while rummaging through my backpack.

This was not the first time I slept at Dave’s house of course, not even the first during our 20s, but this time it truly was a last-second solution. This is not like the shower emergency from sometime ago, though water is involved again somehow.

“No problem dude. I needed someone to help me finish this case of beer anyway.” he said, cracking one open and throwing the can at me, which I managed to catch.

“Always up for it.” and I took a long sip of that cold nectar.

“I’m sorry you almost drowned.” he joked.

“Yeah it was terrible.” I played along.

Truth is that some pipe in my house literally exploded and water flooded the entire apartment. It’s not as bad as it sounds: the leak was already fixed but I still needed a place to stay for the night. I didn’t even have time to call anyone as Dave simply showed up at my place and drove me here.

We sat on the couch to watch some bad movie as we kept chatting about some random stuff and having beer. We were both dressed casually, Dave sporting a pair of grey shorts and a black t-shirt, outfits that doubled as our pajamas, even though Dave was probably gonna sleep shirtless as he usually does.

And again, as usual, I felt some familiar vibrations going through the couch. I rolled my eyes and chuckled.

“Straight to the point, I see.” I commented.

He laughed and slightly leaned, ripping the rest of the 7-seconds rip towards me, without the couch muffling the sound now. I always appreciate how my bud is so casual about my kink and that fart, needless to say, was impressive, despite being “small” for my bro’s incredibly high standards. Also, he basically almost always farted like this even before he knew about my fetish which, again, led me to appreciate more how his attitude towards me didn’t change at all -and he knows very well the “side effects” his blasts give me.

I pitched a tent in my own shorts but I managed to hide it by adjusting my position, crossing my legs. Whether Dave noticed that or not was irrelevant, as he kept ripping a couple of more loud toots.

We resumed watching the TV for like one hour until we both decided it was time to turn into corpses for the rest of the night, so we went upstairs, the beers making us a bit dizzy but nothing serious.

I was familiar with Dave’s house so I headed directly to the guest room, my bud right behind me.

I stepped into the dark room, turned the light on, and I saw it, staring at me from the bed.

Brave Dave was the first one to run away, pulling me outside of the guest room as I hastily shut the door. Team work!

“Okay, Tim. Were you cursed or something?” he asked.

On the bed we both just saw a huge spider, the biggest we’ve ever seen in real life. While we’re not properly arachnophobic, it’s not like *we like* sleeping with spiders hanging around.

We were both manly adult men and so we were both very afraid of the eight-legged monster sneaking out to murder us in our sleep, or simply existing, so the two of us rushed to the kitchen and came back with tons of duct tape to block up every nook and cranny of the guest room door.

“Alright.” I said. “I’ll just use the couch downstairs.”

“Nah bro.” Dave commented. “My bed’s full-sized. You can join me.” and he walked towards his room.

I needed some time to process what he just said. Me and Dave shared a bed many times but that was always before I came out to him. I wonder how-

“Look, I hate to interrupt your inner monologue about self-pity and all” he said, kind of annoyed. “But can we just for once skip your awkward bullshit and head to bed? Thanks.” and then disappeared into his room.

I chuckled a bit as I realized how “formulaic” I was being lately when he more than once proved to me that he had no issues with me, so I followed him.

The bedroom was dimly lit and he was already lying on his side of the bed, shirtless, showing off some mild pecs and an overall nice-looking figure.

“I gotta warn you: I’m a screamer in bed.” I jokingly said, lying down on my side of the bed, just by the window.

“Oh yesss, scream harder, daddy.” he played along, laughing.

We were both lying down, mindlessly scrolling stuff on our smartphones and reading articles. That only lasted a couple of minutes.

“Well, time for your goodnight kiss” Dave announced, quickly wrapping his legs around me and planting his butt in grey shorts in my face.

I was still lying down as the fart erupted, almost making me deaf for how loud it was, so up close and personal. I couldn’t see the ceiling very well as Dave’s hairy legs mostly obstructed the view. The blast didn’t even smell that much, which made me assume it was on command rather than fully natural; not that it didn’t stink at all of course.

The beer-powered fart lasted about 10 seconds. He wiggled his ass on my face a bit and then let me go/breathe. “I thought you were a screamer.” he teased and went back on his side of the bed, which almost looked queen-sized.

I didn’t say anything and I simply turned my back to him, trying to be annoyed and failing miserably, feeling a faint scent in my nostrils every time I breathed.

“Looks like there’s a leak in my house as well.” he said, right before ripping another thunderous blast, this time far from me. I tried to ignore that, but I still pitched a tent anyway. I didn’t even turn around: I’m not going to let the teaser win!

After a couple of minutes, Dave turned the lights off and the room fell into darkness, the only source of light being a digital alarm clock inches from my face. 1:34 AM, not as late as I thought, but my body didn’t care and I fell asleep almost immediately.

2:44 AM I hear a loud noise and I woke up, only opening my eyes, the alarm clock greeting my sight in a room of pure darkness. Took me a couple of moments to realize that, of course, it was Dave farting, this time in his sleep. I turned around, noticing Dave’s grey pants as my eyes adjusted to the dark.

3:01 AM I was almost asleep as another fart snapped me back to reality, this time even louder. Again I instinctively turned around and stared at my bud’s butt as the blast erupted. Those felt very airy and pretty much odourless I think. I thought whether I should wake him up but I didn’t want him to think that I was listening to his sleep-farting, which is literally what I was doing sadly.

At this point I was playing the jump-rope between being asleep and awake, every time fully waking up because of Dave farting like crazy. After many farts, the blast at 3:59 AM felt particularly powerful and “meaty”, which made me look again at my friend’s butt, somehow noticing his pants moving because of the air being blasted out. A powerful rip that lasted around 11 seconds I believe. Was I dreaming? Similar farts then followed.

4:59 AM This one almost scared me as when I thought it was over it instead became louder and louder, as if it was a train passing nearby. It had a great sound and flow, one of the best I ever heard from my bro.

5:32 AM Another peak in farting activity. Falling asleep at this point was impossible. Each moment of silence was just the quiet before the storm and I completely gave up on the idea of resting that night.

6:21 AM This one was so loud and powerful that even Dave woke up for a moment. He simply sighed in relief though, but when even the farter wakes up, you know the fart was incredible.

6:36 AM A similar blast greeted the first lights of the dawn.

Even more powerful rips were heard at 7:16 AM and 7:33 AM. At around 8:01 AM, Dave finally woke up by himself, one of his loudest farts acting as natural alarm clock.

That was a long night and as I heard Dave going downstairs to do his morning routine, I figured it was finally time to catch up some sleep, but ironically enough the silence made it more difficult as I was now so used to his blasts that they felt like white noise, fetish or not.

That teasing bastard won and wasn’t even done.

After merely 30 minutes, I heard him jump on the bed. I was facing the window, pretending to be asleep, but I knew he was standing on the bed, towering over me.

“Rise and shine, roommate!”

He squatted over my head, still sporting those grey shorts, and ripped a huge, loud and proud natural morning fart all over my face. I’m kind of glad I was already awake, ‘cause I would have been scared to death by that gas thunder. Where was all of this gas coming from? How was he not done?

I screamed, annoyed, and pushed him on his side of the bed, my hands touching his still-farting ass, the stench being this time unbearable. I heard him laugh like an idiot as he lied next to me, keeping one of his legs up as he finished ripping that loud, long fart.

“So you are a screamer!” he joked.

“And you fart in your sleep.” I replied.

“As if you’d mind me doing that.”

Whether he was aware or not of what happened during the night, Dave was as usual so comfortable around me that he just didn’t care and it was all just a big gassy prank for him. So I just lied there, awake, chatting with my bud about my house looking like Venice, so tired and so exhausted that I didn’t even bother about the spider staring back at us from the ceiling.

End of Episode 7

#fart story #eproctophilia #fartkink #davefarts2 #gayfart #malefarts

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spaceskam · 4 years

Text

for @alexmanesappreciation weekend. technically falls under day 1 despite it being day 2 but what can you do. Heavily inspired by You & I from Bare: A Pop Opera, so high school au!

Alex was minding his own damn business, getting his books out of his locker when town arms snaked around his torso and hot breath hit his ear.

"Hey, stranger," Michael Guerin whispered, nipping at his skin as he pressed his hands into his lower stomach. Alex gulped softly and tried to fight his grin. A quick look around the hall proved they were alone–which made sense. Michael had a reputation. "What's a man gotta do to get you alone? Toys? A puppy?" He paused and pressed his hips hard into Alex's back, making his want for him known. "How about a lollipop?"

Alex laughed, squirming in grasp at the gross analogy. He managed to turn around and Michael's half-lidded eyes were fully on him, unphased and not checking the halls for others. Alex's felt a rush of adrenaline.

"No thanks. Stranger danger," he retorted. Michael's eyes flickered around his face, leaning even closer so their foreheads met and Alex was pinned between his body and the lockers.

"So a kiss is out of the question?" Michael breathed. Again, he didn't check for bystanders. Alex was giddy.

"Well, when you say it like that..."

He leaned in, barely getting to enjoy his lips for a millisecond before footsteps sounded and Michael spun, his back hitting the locker beside Alex's. Alex sighed and saw a couple other students entering the hallway they were in before turning back into his locker. He should've known that was too good to be true.

"So, where were you last night? I waited up," Alex said, soft enough no one could really hear as he went back to looking through his locker.

"Couldn't get away early enough," he said.

Alex frowned. There were things that came with being apart of a religious private school, one of them was usually having ridiculously strict parents. Michael, however, got the worst of them all whenever one of the big shots in the town's church decided to loudly announce how good they were by fostering a teen boy with "problems". So far, the only problem Alex had found in Michael Guerin was that he was starved of affection and could be reduced to a useless pile of boy with the right amount of heavy petting.

"Oh," Alex said, trying not to make him feel guilty.

"We're forever damned to loneliness, aren't we?" Michael sighed, playing up the dramatics but Alex's saw how much he really felt that. Still, he didn't want to call him out, so he smiled.

"I stayed awake as long as I could. Got about 2 hours of sleep," Alex told him. Michael's eyes scanned the freshly empty halls again before giving him a fond smile.

"Impressive," he said, slowly sliding closer again. He was so close, but not close enough. "What'd you say we skip? Go find somewhere... Catch up on sleep?"

"Oh?" Alex hummed, intrigued and showing it. Michael smiled that pretty little smile of his, lips pressing to his cheek.

"Should I bring that lollipop I mentioned?"

Alex huffed a laugh, but turned to meet his lips.

"I think you should."

And then the bell rang and the halls filled with people.

Again, Michael pulled away and Alex prepared to be upset. He didn’t like the person he was whenever he was being the perfect, all-star football player that his foster parents wanted. He liked the sweet dork he got when they were alone. But, God forbid...

“Manes, you got my homework?” Kyle Valenti said as he sidled up beside Michael. They were bros. How gross was that?

“Uh, fuck off, Valenti, mine takes precedence,” Michael told him, elbowing him. Alex didn’t entertain them as they started to play fight in the halls, pulling out two copies of the Calc homework. Technically, Michael had done all the work and Alex was just the face of the business. They split the profits.

“$15,” Alex said blandly, accepting as they both paid up. It was a always a show for Michael. He had to wonder if that’s all they’d ever be. A secret layer beneath this one.

“Thanks,” Kyle said before clapping Michael on the shoulder, “See you at practice. Better bring your A game, man, Imma kick your ass this time.”

“We’re on the same team, you dumbass,” Michael said, shoving him away. Alex rolled his eyes and closed the door of his locker, turning to head to class.

“See you later, Guerin.”

“Wait, Alex.”

Alex, putty in his hands as always, allowed his arm to be grabbed and pulled him back so they could talk. The hall was still busy though, so the contact only lasted a minute, but Alex still waited for him to speak.

“You know I have to--”

Again, as if specially designed to ruin everything, Maria DeLuca walked and gave Michael a sweet smile. She was pretty and nice and Alex knew they’d look good together. That only seemed to make it harder when Michael gave her his full focus, giving her that flirtatious smile that made Alex feel sick when it wasn’t for him.

“Hey, Michael,” she said, “I’ve been looking for you.”

Alex had to roll his eyes in irritation, clutching his books as he wondered how easy it would be to slip out of earshot. Probably easily.

“Oh, yeah?” Michael said, “What for?”

“I was wondering, if you had a date for prom yet?” she asked, still giving that pretty smile, “I tried to text you, but you didn’t answer. Did you lose my number?”

To keep from projectile vomiting at the strange dance that was heteronormative flirting, Alex turned to leave.

“I, uh, look, I’ll get back to you, okay? I need to talk to Manes here about an essay he needs to write for me,” Michael said.

“Oh, okay.”

Alex tried to walk faster as Michael followed, but, as soon as they reached a hall full of people who weren’t paying attention, Michael grabbed his arm and pulled him into an empty classroom. He shut the door behind them, giving Alex that borderline scared look that he always gave when he knew he fucked up. Alex still hadn’t quite decided if he used it to knowingly manipulate him or not because it was always painstakingly effective in making him cave.

“What?” Alex asked softly, “Don’t look at me like that. Have fun with your fuckboy ways, I’m not trying to dictate what you do.”

“Alex,” he said, forcing a little laugh as he shook his head, “It’s just a fucking game I gotta play.”

“And like I said, not gonna dictate what you do,” Alex said coldly. Michael moved closer.

“C’mon, you know it’s not real. I just have to appease the parents,” Michael said softly, reaching for Alex’s hand. He reluctantly let him take it. “You’re the the one I want and you know it. Yeah, we have to be discrete and shit, but you know why. Look at me. You know why.”

“Just... how am I supposed to trust you? Every girl in this school would literally fight to the death to get your attention. You could have whatever you wanted,” Alex pointed out. Michael grinned and gravitated closer.

“Then it’s a good thing I want you,” he said, pulling his hand to his lips, “You’re the only one that makes me lose my fucking mind. Why would I let go of that when I have it? My eyes are only on you.”

Alex looked away, trying not to show just how easy it was to fold under his sweet words and his impossibly good looks. Michael came closer, slowly backing him against the teachers desk. Alex fidgeted slightly as he pressed his hips in closer and went from politely kissing his palm to pressing Alex’s fingertips against his lips. Alex tested him and pushed his thumb into his mouth. Michael welcomed it which made it that much harder to remember why he was upset.

“Need help there?” Michael asked quietly, eyes gesturing down to where their hips met. Alex let out a slightly exasperated breath.

“You’re so fucking cute and it’s really hard to be mad at you when you do shit like this,” Alex admitted. Michael smiled all proud and made a show of taking Alex’s forefinger and middle finger into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks. He gulped and fidgeted some more. “You think you can help me out?”

Michael pulled away from his fingers with an exaggerated pop. “I gotta get to class or I would.”

Alex nodded but he didn’t like it.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Michael said, his hand laying against his cheek, “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, I’m not leaving you.”

“Not even for Kyle?” Alex asked teasingly. Michael grinned and shrugged.

“Well, maybe--”

“Shut up,” Alex laughed, shoving his shoulder gently. Michael just laughed and leaned in for another kiss. But they couldn’t do that for long. They had class and this room would be filling with students soon. “I’ll see you soon?”

“I’ll come pick you up,” Michael promised, “We’ll drive out to the desert, lay under the stars, see how what happens.”

“Sounds good.”

“I know,” Michael said, giving him one last kiss, “Miss me.”

He quickly fled the room and Alex sighed, fixing his thought process so he’d actually be useful once he got to class.

And he would miss him. That’s all he did.

#missingalexmanes #missingalexweekend #malex #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #roswell new mexico #my fic

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goatbi · 4 years

Text

Cliche but to the Left

It took Bubby three days out of his tube to get sick of them completely. How the others hadn’t gotten sick of them over the course of the month he had spent in the tube was a mystery to him, because they all would watch, as they danced around each other, spitting pink to blue and pretending that they weren’t.

Jesus Christ, even he wasn’t this bad.

“Yeah you were, dear.” Harold told him that night, while Bubby showered and complained. “You ruined quite a few of your own experiments staring at me, you know.”

“Shut up about that.” Bubby muttered, scrubbing at the adhesive still stuck on his arms from the IVs he had. “Trust me, I remember. You did nothing to make that better.” He heard Harold laugh through the curtain and couldn’t help but grin. “You let me do that for ten months, Harold!”

“It was cute!”

“You were in love with me and did nothing!”

Harold didn’t respond, too busy laughing.

“Don’t fall off the counter. Still, I personally believe they’re worse than I was! They both know that they’re in love with each other...” He trailed off for a second, picking at adhesive getting stuck on his shoulder, frowning at it. “I didn’t realize you had been in love with me for years.”

“Well, sure, but they went through a serious trauma before this, we were just pining in normal circumstances.”

“Are there normal circumstances to pining?” Bubby looked up, away from where he was bruising his skin trying to get the damn sticky off, and Harold hummed.

“I think so. If it doesn’t happen during a traumatic event, for one, and I’m sure we can classify everything with Black Mesa and G-Man as traumatic. Stop picking at the sticky, love, I know you.” Bubby grumbled, but moved on to his hair, ignoring the slightly grey sticky still left that was going to annoy him for the rest of the night.

“Sure, sure... Gordon and Benrey are in weird circumstances, but they’re both doing it, Harold, and they both can translate it, so they both know. It’s literally only themselves holding them back at this point. Can I lock them in my tube?”

Harold paused for a moment. Bubby rinsed out his hair, glancing around the shower to find the conditioner.

“Well... I mean... it might work. Benrey could get out though, and then that would just leave Gordon stuck...”

“I’ll get Tommy in on it, he shouldn’t hard to convince, right? I mean, he has to be sick of it too. You can’t tell me you aren’t, you’ve lived with this for a month, and I was getting annoyed while in the tube.”

Harold sighed softly, conceding Bubby’s point. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“I’m always right.” Bubby shook his head, getting water on the shower walls and curtain, before stepping out and grabbing a towel. “Your turn.”

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

So of course, the moment they left the bathroom, Bubby went to Tommy, who was underneath Sunkist, per usual. Sunkist was only across his chest, however, so Bubby sat near his head and poked the middle of his forehead.

Tommy opened his eyes before Bubby’s finger made contact, but still let him poke him. “Hey Bubby...”

“Wanna help me lock Gordon and Benrey in my tube so they stop pining like idiots?”

Tommy paused for a moment, blinking slowly at him, and Bubby stared back, letting him process.

“Yeah sure.”

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

Gordon had fallen asleep on the couch, head in Benrey’s lap. When he woke up, he was leaning up against glass, with Benrey leaning his head on his shoulder. He glanced around, peering through the glass and then paused.

“uh...”

“They put us in a tube, bro.”

He looked down towards Benrey, who was awake. “And you can’t get out?”

“Nope. Tried. They got Tommy in on it too.”

“Why... are we in the tube?”

“No clue.” Benrey mumbled, shifting slightly, looking up at him.

Gordon sighed softly, then shifted, gently sitting Benrey up by himself. Benrey, per his usual dramatics, leaned too far the other way and lay on the floor. “Bro why’d you push me over...”

“I needed to get up to yell.” Gordon stood, then shifted, peeking out towards the door. It was shut. “Bastards.”

“Bro you didn’t need to push me over though, that was so rude of you.”

“I’ll sit back down in a minute. Hey!” He hit the glass, knowing that it wouldn’t break under his fists, seeing as he was no Dr. Coomer. “What the hell guys?”

The door was pushed open, just enough for Bubby to peak his head in. “I have been out of my tube for three days. Get it together, and get together.” With that, he shut the door again, and no amount of Gordon yelling was going to bring him back in.

Gordon sighed, sinking to the floor next to Benrey, who was still laying there defeated, staring up at the ceiling of the tube. Gordon glanced up and frowned. “Has it always looked like that in here?”

“Yeah.” Benrey shifted, pushing his feet against the glass and straightening out his legs so his head hit Gordon’s legs. “Hey there. Come here often?”

Gordon stared down at him smirking, and broke, hunching over himself and laughing. Benrey grinned, poking at his sides.

“Bro you didn’t answer my question though bro, like, you didn’t answer it. Do you? Do you come to the tube often bro?”

“Benrey I am begging you to stop.” Gordon muttered, head falling back against the back of the tube, shoulders shaking with laughter. Benrey shifted, lifting his head up and laying it on Gordon’s legs, obligingly going silent, but still poking at his sides.

Gordon batted at his hands, finally catching both of them and holding them, looking down at him. He paused a moment, and Benrey grinned cheekily up at him.

“We... really are dumb, huh?” Gordon mumbled, and Benrey huffed a sigh, nodding, then shifted, singing sweet voice directly at his face. Gordon sputtered, batting away the pink to blue and halfheartedly glaring at him. “Stop it, I’m trying to get us out of here so we don’t kiss in this fucking tube.”

Benrey snorted, tugging his hands free from Gordon’s to sit up, turning to look at him, sitting cross legged and pressing their knees together. “What’s, what’s wrong with kissing in a tube bro? I’m sure Bubby and Coomer did it.”

“Okay, one, exactly that, and two, it’s Bubby’s tube. He’s gonna, like, yell at us for contaminating it something like that.” Benrey nodded slightly, and Gordon huffed, covering his mouth when sweet voice slipped, free. For a moment he sat there, hand over his mouth, before he looked up at Benrey. Benrey just blinked at him slowly, and Gordon couldn’t help but be reminded of a cat.

He grinned, moving his hand and blowing sweet voice into Benrey’s face.

“Hey!”

“Revenge!” Gordon laughed, grinning at him. The tube slowly filled with pink to blue, floating around the top and Benrey smiled back at him, shaking his head.

“How rude. Blowin your sweet voice into my face like that, how inconsiderate.”

“You did it to me.” Gordon muttered. Benrey paused, and then grinned.

“Yeah.”

They drifted into silence. After a moment, Benrey began softly singing to replenish the sweet voice, and Gordon joined him a few moments later, until they were surronded, and it was very likely that no one could see in past the shining color.

It seemed to be exactly what Gordon wanted, as the moment he glanced around, he grabbed Benrey’s hoodie-it was Gordon’s MIT hoodie, and if that didn’t make him giddy-tugging him closer. Benrey squeaked, and Gordon paused for just a second to laugh, before pressing their lips together.

“Better not be kissing in my fucking tube!” Gordon snorted, pushing Benrey back a bit, realizing that, no, they couldn’t actually see in. Benrey glanced around, before leaning his head on Gordon’s shoulder.

“Bubby, bro, you’re the one who put us in here.”

“Shut up!”

Gordon laughed again, turning his head into Benrey’s hair to stifle it, as the sweet voice began to disperse around the room the moment the tube hissed open.

“What did you want them to do, dear, if not stop pining?” Coomer teased, and Bubby shot him a look.

“... Alright so maybe I didn’t think this fully through.” He muttered.

“That would be an understatement.” Gordon said into Benrey’s hair, and Benrey’s shoulder shook with laughter, bringing his hands up to cover his face and muffle it. Gordon grinned slightly, closing his eyes, content to listen to him laugh.

“Alright get the fuck out of my tube.”

#hlvrai #gordon freeman hlvrai #benrey #half life vr but the ai is self aware #bubby #dr. bubby #dr. coomer #harold p coomer #tommy coolatta #Feelings In Various Ways

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ghostmartyr · 4 years

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how a life can move from the darkness [11/?]

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

Summary: Two drug addicts (Eren and Historia) meet in group and decide to be roommates to make their living situation slightly less weird. From there we do the slow burn found family dance mixed in with the struggles and agonies of recovery. Heavy on friendship feels, especially EMA. Eventual yumikuri.

Ymir was going to be part of Eren’s life. He’d known for a while he didn’t have much of a choice in that. There wasn’t anything surprising about her coming to one of Zeke’s games. The surprise would be if she kept it at one. Ymir did what she wanted unless Historia told her not to, and according to Reiner what she wanted was to see Historia in a baseball uniform.

Eren didn’t need to know that, but he was getting used to all of it. He didn’t need Historia asking him five different times if Ymir meeting Armin and Mikasa was something he was okay with. No one had to hold his hand over them anymore. He had two of his own.

ymir’s showing at the game historia’s friend

Is this the girl from juvie

why do you know that

Historia was in juvie??

She watches Rivaille for me sometimes. It came up.

Why was Historia in juvie??

from when she killed her dad

Oh. That makes sense Wait, I thought that was self defense sort of

No.

????

It was all fine, and the worst thing about any of it was still that he was going to one of Zeke’s baseball games. Which wasn’t even so bad with Armin, Mikasa, and Historia all there and whole. Petra had called it a ‘sterling improvement.’ Eren didn’t remind her of all the parts left to work on. Maybe she’d call that an improvement, too.

What wasn’t fine was jolting awake at four in the morning, music Eren didn’t recognize blasting from his phone while his head hit go on lunging out of bed into his nightstand.

Ankle caught in his sheets, Eren held the box of sensory destruction in his hands for full seconds before the ability to turn it off came back to him. Blinding puffs of white clouds parted, and he could swipe the brightness down to numbing without his ears bleeding.

A jumble of words waited on his brain to catch up. Sprouting like weeds.

yo Baseball Boy u have friends coming to this thing right ur ocean instagram hot tub scale bro and catgirl

The corner of his phone agreed. It was four in the morning.

It buzzed enthusiastically in his hand, helpful emoji arrows loading to point at empty image boxes. They were quickly filled by another Eren, kneeling in wet sand and unaware that Armin was expanding the subjects of his Instagram. Five different angles popped up.

who needs this many pics of a sea urchin was he trying to get the seashell ur on top of

Eren��s fingers moved slowly.

why are you awake

Ymir did not respond with an answer.

how many hours do photoshoots like this take

Another shot loaded under the text, and it could have been the end of the world and Eren still would have recognized the picture from his last beach trip. Mikasa, magically captured in a moment of lifting him and Armin into the air. The unfair, unexpected moment in a day of clouds and uncooperative waves. Armin hadn’t seen it coming any more than Eren had, even though it was his picture. But he was the one beaming into the camera.

Eren hadn’t wanted to go. There was a tournament to prep for. Annie had been helping him. The cut on his cheek from her toe catching his face hadn’t even had a chance to heal. Captured in that one second Mikasa had lifted them up and Armin had thought to hold on to his phone, the mark was bright and red, flexing with his open mouth of outrage.

Mikasa was smiling too. She just wasn’t looking at the phone.

The top of the photo was cut off with a buzz.

u have a face under that hair… unreal […] u’d look prettier if u smiled

Eren untangled his foot from his bedding and flumped back on his pillow with his phone in hand.

fuck off

do u kiss ur besties with those fingers am I gonna get to watch that @ the game

Irritation didn’t offer the same warmth as his comforter, but the kindling helped take off the morning chill. Eren scrubbed his face with the palm of his hand and scowled at the screen.

you and historia need to stop asking about that I’m fine

A minute passed. Long enough for a yawn to dim the adrenaline.

cool

Eren waited for the rest.

He woke up with the sun shining under his blinds, his phone inside his pillowcase, no new messages from Ymir, and one unread apology text from Historia sent at five in the morning. And a baseball game to go to.

----

“You sure you don’t want to play? You have the arms for it.”

Yelena sat in the corner of the dugout. Up straight, even though her hair caught in the splinters hooked in the ceiling. Smiling, because she did that. Giving Eren an entire bench of personal space he hadn’t asked for, because she did that too.

“I’m sure,” he said, taking the batting helmets out of Zeke’s bag and jamming them in their cubbies.

Yelena was the only other person in the dugout. She started better cold. According to her.

Mikasa and Historia were warming up in the outfield, Historia looking out at the bleachers every five seconds. Colt and Zeke were next to them. Throwing like Colt didn’t mind doing nothing else a thousand times over.

One of the helmets hit the shelf instead of its slot. Eren ignored the field and shoved it back into place. Armin was planning to be on time instead of an hour early, so he wasn’t around yet.

Yelena was smiling at Eren.

He didn’t like it.

“Zeke keeps a spare uniform on hand. Your roommate would have found trouble with the fit, but your proportions are more agreeable,” Yelena said. “He’d be happy to give it to you. Playing with his brother again would mean the world and more to him.”

The helmets were cheap plastic past the padding. Eren’s hands could crack them. Easily. Take Zeke’s toys and break them to see if that would make talking to Eren about feelings and what he wanted sound any better.

He’d done that by accident as a kid. It never worked. Whether or not it would now wasn’t a thought that had even settled when a new voice found its way into the shaded dirt. “What’s big brother have against the world?”

Like a grinning gargoyle, mocking and light, Ymir appeared, settling her arms on the dugout’s roof and leaning into Eren’s personal space. His reflection blinked at him from the mirrored rainbow sunglasses perched on her forehead.

It took several seconds before the reflection’s eyes shifted enough to catch the waving figure next to her. Armin, earlier than he ever was to these, because he never got enough sleep and had to catch up somewhere, smiled awkwardly, a good chunk of his body fully accosted by Ymir.

Something heavy and warm was threading into Eren’s chest, and it made it hard to look at either of them. “Aren’t those Reiner’s?” he asked.

“Aren’t you going to say hello?”

He put away the last helmet soundlessly. “You stole his sunglasses?”

“Since my last felony went so well,” Ymir said, hopping down and crushing a sunflower seed under the pointed dress shoes she’d decided to wear to a baseball game. “You should care more that I stole Instagram boy.”

She flipped off the glasses and planted them squarely on Eren’s head, bypassing every physical and verbal protest. Armin, standing out in the sunshine and looking happier than anyone should at one of these things, quietly drew out his phone and Eren rolled his eyes compliantly before the shutter noise sounded.

Yelena interrupted the moment.

“You’re new.”

Armin’s smile stiffened. Ymir’s hands made another knot in Eren’s hair, and she passed Yelena a bored look. “Yeah,” she said, “I suppose I am. You’d be?”

“Yelena,” said Yelena. A hand stuck out by Eren’s hip and hovered there with all the earnest politeness that never felt honest coming from her. She kept at it every time anyway. “It’s a pleasure to meet another one of Eren’s friends.”

“I’ll bet,” Ymir said. “You don’t look like someone who comes by that naturally.” There was a shark in those teeth. Eren hadn’t realized Yelena was bleeding in the water. “Don’t take it too personally; that brother of his doesn’t have apartment privileges either.”

Without another word, she grabbed Eren by his scalp and yanked him up the steps, disregarding his balance and safety and pulling him into the morning sunlight next to a staring Armin. Before she kept the movement going and pressed heavy hands on their backs and shoved them out of the backstop’s limits.

Failing on the rest, and making limited headway forcing Ymir out of his hair, Eren offered,“Good morning.”

Armin, eyes alight and stunned, said, “Good morning.”

Eren jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “This is Ymir.”

Armin nodded. “We met by the drinking fountain.”

Eren nodded.

Ymir continued pushing them towards the bleachers, scuffing line chalk all over their shoes, with only one telling stumble that set Armin free from her grip. Eren wasn’t so lucky, and it felt on purpose.

The pressure pushing him away from the dugout didn’t let up. Ymir had earned her rock climbing qualifications somewhere and it showed, but her entire head was aimed at the outfield, where Historia missed an easy lob by her head because her glove was down at her waist. Mikasa had to call her name several times before it took, and she jogged back to fetch the ball with a stumble that gave Mikasa time to look over to determine what was so distracting.

She found Eren first. In their oddly connected pile.

He pointed at Ymir.

Mikasa’s eyebrows rose. He shrugged.

Ymir stared, since that’s what she did when Historia was in orbit, and Historia kept moving while she stared back. Crossing near Zeke and Colt in the process. Where every third throw was a risk since Zeke was putting Colt through grounder paces. Colt wasn’t great with grounders. His little brother was. Eren was. That was half of little league.

Armin’s face popped in front of Eren and he almost jumped. “Ymir thought you’d like watching from the stands with us,” he said. “That’s not how she said it, but—do you want to?”

A floater landed softly in Colt’s glove, and Eren pulled his eyes away. “Sure,” he said, focusing on Armin and the warmth coming through Ymir’s hand on his back. On how easy it always was here.

“So Armin,” Ymir said into the quiet morning mist, “what was Eren like before he had hair?”

“Louder, mostly.”

“Hey.”

----

Watching from the bleachers wasn’t that different from watching from the dugout. There were still rooting for the same people. Nothing they did contributed to how it was going. It was still several hours of watching people stand in one spot waiting for a moment that might never come.

There wasn’t anything new to it.

“Cutter.”

“Not with this one. Fastball.”

“Zeke’s more strategic than that. No one else on their team has gotten a hit all day. He won’t risk that happening again in the final inning.”

“No one else getting a piece of him means he has something to prove.”

“Winning proves that better.”

Nothing new at all, except Armin wasn’t sitting with a bunch of people who didn’t care about how their genius pitcher won them the game. He was sitting next to Ymir, a bunch of twigs in the shape of a diamond resting etween them, small gouges in the splintered stands where they’d jabbed in larger sticks to make their points earlier.

“What do you think, Eren?” Ymir’s voice broke into his lazy contentment. “How much of a prideful prick is big brother?”

Eren looked over at the mound, where he hadn’t had to all game with the commentary running by his ears. Where Zeke stood as the king of his domain. Steady and calm to anyone who did think to look. “Fastball.”

Armin objected. “It’s the ninth inning, it doesn’t make any sense to—”

The pitch left Zeke’s hand. Straight as an arrow. Hammering into the catcher’s mitt. In three of the movies that had somehow survived their list purges, this was where the stadium would go silent before the crowd erupted in cheers.

They weren’t in a stadium, and there wasn’t a crowd.

Armin sighed, his careful placement of twigs slipping back down to the ground.

Ymir clucked her tongue. “You hate to see it.”

“They won,” Eren said, unhelpfully. Armin’s heavier sigh made the whole diamond shine brighter. Past tolerable. Put with Ymir’s rolling eyes and Mikasa jogging to the outfield to walk in with Historia, it hit somewhere closer to whatever Zeke saw whenever he stepped up to the mound.

Whatever it was that made showing up worth it. Eren had never understood as a kid, stuck in the bleachers with his grandparents. Finally being let into the dugout didn’t make it any better, even when it should have. Getting a taste when he was back to the bleachers while the teams shook hands wasn’t something he would have thought to look for.

The baseball part was still dumb.

Ymir’s elbow jabbed his ribs and pointed at Mikasa. “That’s the cat friend?”

Eren pushed her back into Armin’s section of bench. “We told you that was her when she got the grand slam.” All four runs on the board were thanks to Mikasa. Armin had jumped to his feet to cheer for her. The guy walking his dog nearby knew who Mikasa was, and Ymir was paying more attention.

She didn’t snipe back. She dropped Reiner’s sunglasses on his head and kept staring out at the field. Historia had spent most of the game out of range. Every few shook hands she glanced over her shoulder, but Ymir didn’t so much as twitch at the extra attention. She was watching Mikasa. The hand she’d dropped to the bench was digging into the splintered edge.

She’d used that hand to text him at four in the morning.

“You’re nervous,” Eren said abruptly.

Ymir scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Eren looked at Armin for confirmation. Armin’s wide eyes darted between them, Ymir stubbornly staring at the back of Mikasa’s head as she hit the end of the line. After a stalled second that said everything, he shrugged diplomatically.

Eren spun back to Ymir. “You are.”

“Right, because meeting up with your friends really earned its spot on my dayplanner,” Ymir said, unclenching her fist enough to lean back on the next row of bleachers. It didn’t look as casual as she thought it did.

Armin tried to help. “Mikasa’s not that scary once you get to know her,” he said. “She’s amazing at everything, and that can intimidate some people, but—”

“I am not intimidated,” Ymir declared. “From everything you nerds have told me her cat’s scarier than she is.”

“Rivaille’s…” Armin’s defense fell short. “A rescue,” he said at last.

Eren picked his dropped thread back up. “If you’re not intimidated, what are you nervous about?”

“Are your ears broken?” Ymir said. “I’m not nervous.”

“You’re breaking the seats with your hand.”

She stole her sunglasses back and pointed them at him. “All that says is your brother should pick a better park to play at.”

“The league figures that out.”

“They’re walking over,” Armin said.

Eren and Ymir shut up. Ymir’s face had lost the shade of color Historia usually gave her, and maybe there was something wrong with that, but the only other time Eren had seen her in a social situation she wasn’t in control of, she’d started crying. Maybe she was just like this with new people.

Historia didn’t have the extra bounce Ymir usually gave her, either. But anything could take away Historia’s good mood, and Ymir was more like her everything.

Mikasa looked like Mikasa. She wasn’t someone to be nervous over.

“C’mon,” Eren said, wrenching Ymir’s arm out of the splinters. “Get up and say hi.”

Ymir flicked him off and tromped down the stands. Armin was biting back a smile. Eren held out a hand and swung him to his feet, following Ymir without helping her grow any of the cracks in the wood.

Like magnets, Historia fell into Ymir’s orbit instantly, and any of Mikasa’s intimidation factor that Ymir had made up evaporated. Ymir slid Reiner’s sunglasses down over her eyes and looked Historia and her haphazardly dusted uniform up and down.

The color came back, and Ymir coughed into her hand. “Shouldn’t have swung at that ball in the fifth,” she said.

Historia’s whole face twitched in exasperation. “I thought I could reach it.”

Ymir grinned and hooked a finger around one of her sleeves, pulling her close enough for Armin to carefully switch his gaze to Eren’s shoulder. “With these nubs?” she asked. “Has anyone tried to ship you off to little league yet?”

“She throws too hard.”

Mikasa’s quiet insertion drew all eyes to her.

Stable and calm, she wasn’t at all put off by Ymir, or Historia’s cleat digging into Ymir’s shoe. Which she noticed. And smiled at. She’d had worse. For as long as Eren had known her. If the shame didn’t steel out the words, he could have told Ymir that.

Ymir shot Eren a look, a leering smile mocking him. “I’ve heard that.” Then she switched back to Mikasa, and the person who manned an entire household she didn’t live in gleamed under her stolen sunglasses. She stuck out her hand.

“Ymir.”

Mikasa silently looked between Ymir and Historia’s proximity and Eren.

She took Ymir’s hand.

“Eren’s friend,” she said.

Ymir bristled, but next to her, Historia’s eyes did the sunburst thing Armin’s did. Those moments that wiped everything else away, because the world stopped and paid attention when it noticed someone with the brightness to change it was waking up.

They’d lived together for months. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her happy before.

Defensive tension leaked out of Ymir like a beach balloon. She saved the last of it for a pointed scowl in Eren’s direction before dropping out of the handshake and turning away from all of them. Stuttering somewhat when Historia’s hand quietly took up the residence Mikasa’s had been thrown from.

“I guess,” Ymir said shortly. “Your boy’s okay.”

Eren’s ears burned, and he glared at the backstop. Armin’s soft laugh and Mikasa’s audible smile did not make the burning go away. It just went other places and was even harder to ignore.

“Yeah, well. You’re… fine,” he said.

The brutal, heated silence of embarrassment continued. Everyone else didn’t mind. His eyes flicked up and made the mistake of catching Mikasa’s.

Affection spilled out freely from her. Genuine and familiar. Warmer than she’d been with him even before everything fell apart. She made the blood rushing to his head feel like it was allowed to be there, and maybe wasn’t ever going to leave.

Mikasa was fine too.

----

“Are you doing okay with all of that?”

There were questions Eren had learned to put up with. Questions from Reiner had been an early test of that. Strung out and on fire, he could break Reiner’s face open for talking at all, or suck it up and learn how to be human again.

Figuring out answers to the questions wasn’t the same thing.

“Huh?” Eren said.

They were outside Reiner’s house, waiting on Ymir. She’d gotten a text from Historia on her way to pick up her helmet and the world went on pause.

“With that,” Reiner said, pointing over his shoulder at the front door.

The front door stayed a front door.

“With what?” Eren asked blankly.

“With Ymir and Historia being a thing,” Reiner said. Before Eren could add another ‘what,’ the words kept going. Reiner was at his most earnest this morning, and he bridged the gap between their bikes with a creak of metal and sincerity that Eren didn’t want. “Third wheeling can be rough.”

Eren was a morning person. It was too early for this. He said, “I’m fine.”

Reiner’s open sympathy didn’t falter. Under the dark circles and the bunched tendons in his arms that still didn’t know how to relax, there was nothing but plain, unnecessary compassion. “I talked it over with Bert and Marcel, and everyone’s fine with you rooming here.”

Anything Eren could say or wanted to be confused by got lost in syrup and waffles and the inevitable. He unclamped his hands from his bicycle and rubbed away the red indents before they were visible to anyone but him. “I have a room.”

A nice room. With sheets that had made it through two homes he wasn’t going back to. He wasn’t going to volunteer a third. “And they wouldn’t just kick me out,” Eren added, a phantom of Ymir’s hand ruffling his hair.

Reiner held one of his elbows in a way Eren had etched into his head from Historia. “No,” he agreed. “They’re not like that. They’re too used to us to ask. But for guys like us, it’s hard not to help out.” His bike shifted under him. He didn’t lean in any closer, but the world around them closed. “Only guys like us don’t do well on our own.”

Eren stayed quiet. His tongue was fuzzy. The way it had been when he woke up in the hospital. He didn’t know why he’d decided to like that feeling.

“I just wanted you to know you don’t have to go backwards,” Reiner said after a moment or two. “That’s all.”

It wasn’t that cold, but the heat in Eren’s ears still stung more than anything. He stared squarely at the ground, where a pillbug was scrunching down the sidewalk. Petra and months of encouragement didn’t make the improvement feel good. Just necessary enough to be weird.

“Thanks,” he said.

Reiner clapped him on the back hard enough to leave marks on both of them.

[next]

#drug au #fic #mine #long post

8 notes · View notes

yinyanchan · 4 years

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Off the Grid

This was a NSFW story I was making but lost interest in. Female Reader decides to go off grid away from humanity and goes to the “Haunted” Skeleton forest as it was declared public land but no one will go there after people and even search parties have disappeared. Has Classic, Underswap, Underfell, Swapfell, and Horrortale bros. I really liked readers first experience meeting a skeleton in this as it is a boistrous Black after he saves her from a raging river due to a storm. Classic Sans and Papyrus have been looking out for her but in the shadows as Reader sets up her home on their territory. Reader had never encountered a skeleton and had laughed off the idea that the place was haunted after living there a month. It might be something I come back to but until then I’m leaving the whole meeting under the cut... Be aware that this is slightly NSFW but I couldn’t resist publishing it as it pertains to Swapfell boys. Enjoy!

It took you forever to secure your campsite but you were more worried for the garden. It needed to be covered from the raging storm.

As you went to cross the stream, now a furious river, with your tarp... the current caught your leg in an awkward angle and down you went.

Regretting not having gotten around to making a bridge as you are swept downstream. Doing everything you can to survive as the water became white rapids from the excessive rain.

You were smacked awake. Jerking and shaking your head you were about to yell at whoever hit you... when before you was an average in height, but still taller than you, menacing skeleton. You were scared into a stupor as you watch its shark like teeth curl into a snarl. His black and red ensamble with matching eerie red eye lights locked right on you.

So... the skeleton forest had actual skeletons in it... guess those tall tales weren’t fiction afterall...

“HOW DARE YOU TRESPASS INTO MY TERRITORY HUMAN!!!” It screeched at you causing you to flinch.

Trembling from this spooky loud skeleton you try to take in your surroundings for a possible escape route.... and realize you are no where near the stream.

“Did...did you save me?” You ask curiously and the skeleton falters then seethes.

“I HAD TO FIND OUT WHY YOU’VE COME HERE! DID YOU COME ALONE, HUMAN?” He growls as you try to right yourself and stand up fully.

“...yes...” Honesty is the best policy right?

“WELL, THAT WAS STUPID OF YOU. I THE MALEVOLANT BLACK WILL SEE YOUR END!” He wrenches you up to him by the collar of your shirt.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was trespassing! I-I...” You are cut off as he makes a weird face and takes a deeper whiff of you. A skeleton can smell things?

“FEMALE? ARE YOU FEMALE HUMAN?” He demands an answer.

“Yes.” Not knowing why it made a difference. Honestly you still feel like this is a dream or you died in the river and this was your limbo.

“I SEE... IT WAS YOUR INTENT TO FIND ME ALL ALONG!!!” He lets your shirt collar go and you stumble back a bit in confusion.

You were about to question when another taller skeleton approaches. Tall and lanky with a fur trimmed hoodie. He somehow had a gold fang for being a skeleton in the woods with no dentist, but the crack in his jaw above made you wonder if that was how his tooth fell out or if was the gold one being shoved in.

“Whatcha got m’lord?” He eyes you curiously then smirks with a hint of mischief.

“MUTT! BEHOLD! A FEMALE HAS MADE HER WAY TO FIND ME!” The shorter one puffs his chest out proudly.

“I have?” Still not sure what the hell this is you are experiencing... still kinda hoping you swallowed to much river water and this is just a dream.

“OBVIOUSLY!!! YOU’VE HEARED OF MY SUPERIOR VIRILITY AND HAVE COME SEARCHING FOR YOUR MATE!” Posing pridefully as you gaped at him speechless.

You look to the other one for some sense at what is going on.

“Of course m’lord.” He smirks

well...shit... WING IT

“You know... perhaps I may have gotten carried away... As superior as you truly are... I... I’d hate to bog you down if I wasn’t at least an equal match.” Maybe by putting yourself down it might convince him to just let you go and forget all about this mating nonsense.

“HMMM... A VALID POINT...” He frowns and eyes you with scrutiny... the other however... his grin is positively shit eating.

“But M’lord... She’s braved coming this far. Perhaps it is to be. Such an adoring fan of yours should at least be bred if not taken for a lifemate.” You could punch that asshole as the smaller one seems to perk up.

“YES! YOUR HARD JOURNEY SHALL NOT HAVE BEEN IN VAIN! I ACCEPT YOUR COURAGE AND BRAVERY TO COME TO ME FOR YOUR BREEDING SEASON!” Your eyes widen as he approves almost instantly.You needed to think fast

“I may have jumped the gun a little early though! It’s not my season to be looking for a proper mate... Alas!” If you can pull this off you were sure he’d let you go... He wouldn’t murder someone that he was interested in right?

“BUT YOU SMELL SO FERTILE...” Well that threw you as he gives you a confused look.

“M’lord, Perhaps your presence made her cycle jump forward. You glare at the smirking skeleton that adds a wink to further your ire.

“AH HA! SO EAGER TO BE BRED BY ME MY SWEET? SO MUCH SO YOUR OWN BODY DEFIES IT’S NATURE!” Now he’s just preening but now you are curious... he’s a skeleton... how the hell was that supposed to work?

“...Since we’re talking about it.. How does it work?” Dream or not this was boggling your mind.

“WHAT?” the shorter one cocks a brow bone.

“You know... you being a skeleton and all...” You try to hint but it seems its lost on him.

“THE BLAZES ARE YOU ON ABOUT?” He had no clue.

“Darlin’ a virgin?” Oh you were going to cause physical harm to this skeleton that was obviously enjoying every moment of this torment.

“OH! I DIDN’T THINK I’D HAVE TO EXPLAIN THE BASICS BUT I WILL FOR YOU MY DEAR. I WILL PUT MY PENIS INTO YOUR VAGINA. MY GIRTH WILL SPLIT YOU OPEN FOR DEEP PENETRATION. MY KNOT KEEPING US TIED IN ECTASY AS I FORCE MY SEED DEEP INTO YOUR WAITING WOMB. ONLY AFTER YOU CLAMP DOWN AND CLIMAX ON ME IN PURE EUPHORIA.” What started as a sex ed lecture turned into a sensual and explicit turn on as he leaned and purred the rest of the speech in your ear.

You are a blushing mess.

“Somethin’ wrong darlin’?” the bigger one chuckles.

“I’m scare-roused?” This was maddening. You’ve never had anyone come onto you so aggressively. Unfortunately you seemed to have liked it and now this skeleton has you flustered.

“OF COURSE THAT IS ONLY THE FINALE... THERE ARE OTHER THINGS I WISH TO DO TO YOU BEFORE THEN.” You see a deep red glow seep out his mouth in the form of a tongue.. then is sensually sweeps across his shark like teeth.

Okay so this is happening... your finding something out about yourself as you allow him closer and that tongue graces your neck along with a few nips.

Whimpering as he places those love bites on such sinful spots that make your knees weak.

Suddenly you are yanked away.

“THIS IS OUR HUMAN, BLACK. WE’VE BEEN WORRIED SICK LOOKING FOR HER WHEN WE SAW SHE HADN’T RETURNED FROM THE CLEARING.” A sweet smiling fangless mutt? No this one had more energy and very chipper than the lazy asshole that had been goading you.

He looked to be in some makeshift armor and a long red scarf. As he holds you close to him another smaller skeleton approaches... in a blue hoodie and basketball shorts... and fuzzy pink slippers...

At this point you had to question yourself if this was still a dream... but the more you think on it the exhaustion from having to fight for your life down a raging stream is making your body scream at you.

“NO SHE IS NOT! SHE SOUGHT ME!” Black raged.

“Well she’s been living in our neck of the woods pal. Not really seeking you if she’s been in one spot for several weeks.” The blue hooded one snarks at him.

“YES! SHE HAS THE MOST AMAZING PUZZLE BOOKS!” So that’s where they’ve been disappearing to.

“Not nice to cock block classic.” Mutt squared off with the shorter one.

“I’m just thankful Red wasn’t the one that found her.” the one dubbed as Classic so far sighs.

“Yep, she’d have been fucked conscious then unconscious.” Mutt shrugged and the one holding you shuddered with a horrified look on his skull.

“IS THAT LANGUAGE AND SUBJECT MATTER ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY!?” He exclaims

“SHE WAS CONSENTING TO BE BRED BY ME. I AM HER CHOSEN MATE!” Black is not about to let you go.

“More like between a rock and hard place there Black.” Classic growled making the other short one bristle.

“DO YOU WISH TO GO HOME?” The one holding you looks to you for what it is you want. You feel incredibly safe with him.

“Yes.” You simply answer feeling the weight of your exhaustion trying to pull you into the realm of sleep.

Black looks hurt at your response.

“It’s a lot to process Black but I will consider it. Just tired... you know... being dragged down a raging river... nearly dying?” He still looks a little preturbed that you didn’t want to stay with him.

“I SAVED YOU.” He states with a pout.

“You have my deepest thanks and here...” You pull out your still damp handkerchief to hand to him.

“You have my favor.” Black snatches it with a boost in his confidence.

“I shall treasure it my lady. My territory is open to you my future mate.” It should be a crime the way he looks at you.

END EXCERPT

#Swapfell Swapfell Sans Swapfell Papyrus Reader/Sans

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kingofthewilderwest · 5 years

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So I’m speaking from my own personal spin, but I love how Fiddleford McGucket can feel like such a musician.

Characters are often incidentally musicians. Writers throw it in there without thought to how music interplays with their life. You could blink and miss it. It doesn’t frame the character’s interests or personality, and if not for one minor scene, you wouldn’t think they had musical background.

But irl, I often meet people who have (as I affectionately call it) “Musician Brain.”

For some diehard musicians, music is embedded in our personality. You can’t take the musician out of us. We’re constantly thinking and acting out music even when there isn’t an instrument near us. Music gets entangled in quirks, subconscious behaviors, habits, actions, life choices, thought processes, and more. I feel like most fictional musician characters lack that “vibe” or “quirk”. But one thing that entertains me about McGucket is that he can be read as a That Dork With Musician Brain.

I mean like...

The two things Ford buys when McGucket arrives in Gravity Falls are microchips and banjo strings. Sure, Fiddleford might’ve said he needed them. But Ford’s charging to the store because he’s excited and grateful Fiddleford is here, and wants to purchase gifts to make him feel at home. Apparently, the comforts of home aren’t complete without music. That banjo came to the dorms back in the day, didn’t it? Ford probably saw that banjo in the dorms.

It was Important Enough(TM) to be mentioned in Journal #3: Ford set up the ground rule “no banjo playing after eight.” Why? Because otherwise, there would be banjo after eight. Wonderful, beautiful, skilled banjo music. Late at night. When Ford wanted to fucking sleep. There’d be that musician. Still playing. The fucking banjo. After eight. The fact Ford mentions this information early in his journals also means... this was dealt with right away. It had to be dealt with right away. Either because Ford had already experienced this phenomenon ahead of time (college), or because they’d already run into this problem in Gravity Falls... of banjo being played... after eight.

Have you noticed that at all of McGucket’s work stations, the banjo is there? He sets it up beside him during the journal research period. He has it by him in his Palo Alto garage. He’s even got the freaking banjo with him inside the gobblewonker. The banjo is literally part of his work environment. If Fiddleford wanted a real break from work, he could store his musical instruments anywhere. He’d leave the work station, play music, come back. But the instrument needs to be IN EASY REACH. That’s no accident. It’s there to fiddle with while he’s working, while he’s mulling over a problem, while he’s taking a one minute break... etc.

Fiddleford, while idly thinking, automatically starts doing MUSIC THINGS. For instance: hamboning on his knees while doing math calculations. (I know GF made hamboning quasi-linguistic, but if we wanted, we could suggest that before shit hit the fan, Fiddleford used hamboning as the musical thing it is.) No wonder Ford commented in the journal he could “put up with” Fiddleford’s eccentricities. It would be something that needed... tolerance. I’m imagining a quiet day in the lab, and then... whack-a-whack-a-whack-whack-a-whakkk. Try concentrating on your mind-grueling advanced research while the guy next to you is smacking up a rhythmically complicated groove using himself as a drum! Did Fiddleford get glares for that? I’m betting Fiddleford got glares for that.

Granted, flashbacks with Fiddleford don’t cover his happiest life period. He’s tense, on edge, anxious, not smiling. But maybe there’s something to be said that the one and only time we see young McGucket at ease smiling... is when he’s playing his instrument.

By the way. It’s not just one banjo. In Palo Alto, McGucket didn’t have one instrument he could play in his “home office.” He had two, set up, right there. Two instruments. One garage. I can tell you for a fact, once the instruments start multiplying, you’re usually a lost cause.

SPEAKING OF BANJOS MULTIPLYING. When you open the front cover of Journal #3, you get blueprints labeled “From the Desk of Fiddleford H. McGucket.” Most is professional. The raccoons are eyebrow-raising. But most is professional. And then we get to the Gideon Bot, which, for NO REASON AT ALL, has a storage chamber dedicated to a “prize banjo collection.” What. What is that doing there, Fiddleford. I know that wasn’t Gideon’s idea. Why are you amassing banjos in a giant tyrant robot?

Need to keep this guy awake through a long night? Drown him in coffee and blast those bluegrass records.

The science bros plan a serious expedition to an alien spaceship crash site. This will be an aweing experience, especially for Fiddleford, who’ll be seeing it his first time. The expedition is serious work, key to their endeavored scientific breakthroughs. It’ll be a several day rigorous hiking trip through uncivilized wilds, through forests and caves and more, through dangerous paranormal areas. They’ll only be able to carry bare essential supplies with them. There’s no room for anything besides bare essentials. What’s a bare essential? That Fiddleford can’t live two and a half days without? That he absolutely needs to bring? Apparently? His fucking banjo. He brought his fucking banjo.

Speaking of bringing banjos where no banjo should go... let’s try “parachuting through the air into the evil layer of a dream demon for a last stand apocalyptic rescue mission.” Yeah, McGucket uses the instrument like a weapon. That hurts my soul - musical instruments aren’t weapons. You could suggest it’s for self-defense that the instrument came. But... there would’ve been three hundred other things in the Mystery Shack better equipped for self-defense. And yet you parachuted hundreds of feet through the air with a banjo on your back.

No apocalypse shelter is complete without your musical instrument!

Can’t move into the new home without the banjo, either! Basically the only thing he brought, too.

Ever thought about how, post-memory loss and life collapse, the one quality possession he manages to keep with him... is his banjo?

And he still plays and practices music consistently! He mentions in “Land Before Swine” he has an “hourly hootenanny.” It’s a self-scheduled time for music that he’s presumably repeating most days.

Speaking of “Land Before Swine”, McGucket says he loses musical spoons to a dinosaur. It’s to note that spoons are sometimes used as percussion, including in American folk music. This isn’t McGucket speaking nonsense. This is him knowing stringed instruments and percussion.

Mental health struggles, self-inflicted memory loss, and a poor living situation have taken their toll on McGucket through the decades. But that can’t destroy how music sings through his soul. When he plays, “the age lift[s] off his face,” and Ford can see “the Fiddleford who had been [his] friend so many years ago.” McGucket is relaxed, happy, and at peace with his instrument, so much that his identity sings together with the strings. Ford recognizes his friend of old - his friend back before shit hit the fan - because that man playing banjo is who Fiddleford is.

In a way, music is what demonstrates resolution to Fiddleford’s character arc - both his growth arc, and his relationship with Ford. He starts the story as a man smiling on his instrument, playing music contently. He goes through many issues once he starts research in Gravity Falls. And then he ends the story as a man again smiling on his instrument, playing music contently. Smiling on the banjo is the bookmark start and the bookmark end, showing he’s grown back emotionally after all the struggles. Not to mention... music’s sorta the resolving moment where two old, close friends find peace. Ford and Fiddleford have had decades of guilt, pain, and consequences from their mistakes. A key symbolic moment of their relationship being mended - fully mended - is when the two can listen to the banjo together.

Again, this is my own spin, but I live for how Fiddleford McGucket comes off as so musicianny to me. As a composer who’s constantly carting a pennywhistle in my satchel... who hums with my electric toothbrush because it vibrates on middle C... who curses the fact I have apartment neighbors because otherwise I’d have my viola out at 4 AM... I’m damn charmed to encounter a fictional character who I feel emanates musician vibes, musician quirks... Musician Brain.

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milos-fanfics · 5 years

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The Evils Within - Chapter 12

Luigi was sat at the u-shaped table of a conference room, Peach sitting on the interior side across from him and Mario next to him. The two tried to talk to him, but he didn't respond. He sat quietly, staring to the ground. His hat covering his eyes so neither Peach nor Mario could tell his expression.

“Luigi, listen. I understand that this might be overwhelming, if not, annoying, for us to be asking you about this so often, but... are you… doing okay?” Peach asked. She was just as concerned for him as Mario was. She expected more silence but was met with a very unusual response.

“Lay off,” Luigi simply responded. His tone of voice was very different from the ones that are used to. It was almost as if... he was angry, an emotion neither she nor his brother were familiar with him having.

Mario, who had been leaning on his hand, sat up with a confused look. “Bro, we’re just trying to help. You've been acting very different lately. Are you sure you don't want to tell us what's wrong?” he asked.

“Get off my back, okay?” Luigi finally looked up and turned to Mario for a moment before looking back down.

Mario unconsciously moved back in a seat a bit. The look in his brother's eyes was unsettling, to say the least. There have been moments where Luigi had been quite annoyed, but this anger he was showing off was a rare occurrence. Mario felt like if he asked any more questions, someone was going to get hurt.

“Luigi, I understand you're getting frustrated with us about us berating you with all these questions, but we're not going to stop asking until we know how to help you,” Peach informed him. She was a tad afraid of Luigi's new attitude but did her best not to show it. “So, please answer us this. What's wrong?”

“What part of leave me alone do you not understand?” Luigi snapped. His new-found anger was building up and needed to be let out. He had no idea what he was doing or why, but he had the feeling to just... yell. “It's always the same thing with you guys. ‘What's wrong?’ ‘Are you okay?’ ‘Do you need help?’ All the damn time! I'm sick of it! I don't know what's wrong. I don't know if I need help. And I definitely am not okay! I need to figure this shit out by myself instead of relying on you guys like a kid. I am a grown-ass adult and I need to figure these things out on my own.” He stands up from the table in a huff, the chair loudly scraping against the floor. “I'm going home. When you guys are done treating me like a child, you can meet me at home.” He leaves.

Mario and Peach just sat there, mouth agape, absolutely speechless on what had just happened. Luigi has never ‘snapped’ before. The whole thing was just unexpected. They looked to each other for questions or answers, but neither of them could form the words.

Luigi angrily stormed out of the castle, making it just outside before finally processing the previous event. He just yelled at his friends. Just the thought of it hurt him, but actually doing it? It already broke his heart. He leaned against the castle wall, taking a deep breath before breaking out into tears. He had no idea why he was so angry, but now, because of it, he was just very upset.

He assumed whatever was going on was just Mr. L messing with his mind like he always does. He needed help. He didn't want to admit it, but he definitely wanted his friends to help, but he thought, by yelling at them, he wasn't going to get that help.

The more upset he got, the more anger he felt. His anger, mixed with his sorrow, was making it hard for him to think rationally. He was trying to calm down, but his anger told him things like, ‘they hate you now’ ‘you can't go back to them’ ‘they won't help you’ And that only made him even more upset.

He felt something building up inside of him, it wasn't an emotion, but whatever it was, it wasn't good.

~~~~~

Daisy fell back, holding her hand over her nose. She twitched as a bolt of electricity ran down her spine. She moved her hand, spotting a small splotch of blood on it. Balling her fists, she stood up. As terrified as she was at this ability she has never seen from him, she also was not letting him get away with it.

She went for a punch to the stomach but was stopped when Mr. L's hand grabbed hers mid hit. He tried to punch right back but was stopped with his own move being used against him. Both Mr. L and Daisy strained, trying to break free from the others’ strong grip.

Then, a single tear rolled from his eye and down his cheek. He felt a sudden gloomy feeling rolling over him, catching him completely off guard. Daisy noticed this sudden change of emotion and used this as an opportunity to free her hands from his grip and punch him in the stomach, causing him to stumble back once again. This time, he tripped over his own feet, landing on the ground.

Mr. L wiped the tear from his face and rolled to the side, avoiding another hit and the princess. He found it difficult to fight. It made him angry, but the more angry he got, the stronger the feeling of sadness was getting. It was very distracting.

Standing back up to his feet, Mr. L charged to Daisy, determined to get that crown. Of course, he was met with his hands restrained by her again. Tears ran faster down his face, but he tried to ignore it. Daisy gave him a look of confusion.

Mr. L wasn't too happy about this look he got from her. He felt like he was coming off as ‘weak’. It only angered him more. He wanted -- no, needed -- to win this crown. He sent a wave of electricity from his arms to hers.

Daisy gritted her teeth, trying her hardest to withstand the pain of a shock, but she couldn't hold it for long. It drained her energy. She let go of his hands and fell to the ground on her knees.

She looked up to Mr. L, watching as he drew back his arm, presumably for one last hit. She flinched, away from the forthcoming blow, but nothing happened. She looks back up to him. He stood frozen, twitching. A single spark emitting with each one.

Mr. L had no idea what was happening. While he was getting more and more angrier at his increasing level of sadness, I felt something else building up. It was no emotion, but whatever it was, he knew it wasn't good.

Mr. L had only been frozen for about three seconds before the power building up inside of him let out, in the form of an explosion of lightning.

A ball of lighting radiated from Mr. L. Everything within a ten-foot radius was knocked back, with quite a great deal of force, including princess Daisy. She was sent back to the wall of the castle, hitting it. Hard, before falling unconscious to the ground.

This surge of electricity burned the ground beneath him and drained all of Mr. L’s energy. He fell shortly after Daisy to regain his energy.

~~~~~

The build-up of energy didn’t just affect Mr. L, but Luigi too. He released a ball of pure energy as well. The shockwave blew through a small field of flowers, practically uprooting them from the ground and leaving a similar burn mark beneath him. His vision blurred as he fell to the ground before going entirely black.

~~~~~

Luigi found himself back in the dream world. Everything was black and he was fully aware he was dreaming. He was waiting for something to happen, but… where was it?

A figure faded in from the dark and endless void. Who else could it be than Mr. L? Luigi sighed at this.

“Hello again, Green! Did you miss me?” Mr. L greeted happily. Beyond that suspicious smile, Luigi could tell he was behind something.

“What are you up to?” Luigi asked.

“Why do you ask?”

Luigi sighed again in annoyance. “Well… I did just get knocked out for no apparent reason and am now floating unconsciously in the void. I have to assume you played a part in this somehow,” he responded. He did not want to deal with Mr. L’s nonsense today, or at all.

“Hey, I don’t know what happened either. One minute I was fighting someone for their crown and the next thing I know, I’m here,” Mr. L defended. Luigi raised an eyebrow to this. Before he could intervene, Mr. L continued, “I assume it has something to do with you and your stupid emotions.

“My stupid emo- have you been messing with my emotions?” Luigi asked, offended.

“Of course not! I have so much more important things to do than messing with your head!” Mr. L exclaimed.

“What are you on about?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m free! Free from your mental prison. Free to do as I please. I would have gotten so much farther if your damn emotions didn’t get in the way!” It was Mr. L’s turn to be annoyed.

Luigi’s eyes widened. He knew what escaped from the dream world. It was a threat, but not just to him, but to the Mushroom Kingdom, or even the world. If his nightmares told him anything, it’s that he needs to find out how to stop this threat. And fast.

Mr. L felt a tingling sensation as his body began to fade away from the dream world. He smiled again, waving to his dopplegänger. “Oh? I’m drifting back into consciousness. I’ll see you when I see you. I certainly hope you’re ready because we’re going to have fun,” he chuckled as he completely faded out. Luigi felt the sensation too, he began to fade out from the dream world too.

~~~~~

Mr. L shot up from the castle floor. Looking around, he spotted an unconscious Daisy, with her crown lying besides her. He crawled over to it and picked it up, smiling mischievously.

~~~~~

Luigi found himself awake back in the bed at Peach’s castle, both her and Mario at either side of him. Neither of them looked too happy. Luigi smiled nervously. He could tell they wanted answers.

~~~~~

Chapter 11 - Chapter 13 Cover

#mario #fanfic #fanfiction #mr. l #luigi #peach #princess peach

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polygamyff · 5 years

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25. Part 2

It’s like he was never ill, the very man I love awake and so full of life. Maurice looks like a deer caught in headlights seeing me, I feel so emotional again but I’m not about to cry right now. Clearing my throat “it’s ok, he won’t be going anywhere, can you give us a moment please. I can assure you he won’t be moving” I said to the nurse, I have no idea who she is “I think the doctor should be around soon, but I will give you a heads up when he does ok?” Damon said to me, smiling at him “thank you, I do appreciate that. Thank you for everything” he’s been the best “it’s ok, I can see the happeniness in your eyes” I grinned “thank you” Damon drew the curtains around me “you don’t see anything to be honest, you can sniff around somewhere else” Maurice is totally better “ignore him, I will be doing that soon. Bye” smiling at Damon, Maurice is really back and already annoying people. Sighing out heavily looking ahead of me, he is really giving me puppy dog eyes. Maurice put his head down, then looked up with his puppy dog eyes. I don’t know how to feel, I’m just speechless, the battles I had while he was not here “I’m sorry” he said in a whisper “sorry isn’t really going to fix my pussy coming apart” Maurice lifted his head back, confusion all over his face “I want to hate you” I openly admitted “love me first” Maurice was quick to say to me “love you first when I could have lose you? You was dying in my arms” looking away from him, This is painful “I don’t know what happened, that is the honest truth. The last I remember is sleeping, you told me to go to bed and I did but that was it. I knew I was in pain but I didn’t think that would have happened” he is lucky he didn’t get to witness what I did “but you did Maurice, you already had one transfusion so you was fully aware. Don’t lie to me” he is still doesn’t care, he doesn’t think it was serious and I hate that “you really don’t love me or your daughter, you wouldn’t sit in that bed and be the way you are, my daughter was so close to being fatherless and she didn’t even get to call you dad and you think that is anything to be ok about, you played with your life when you have so much to love for” the curtain behind me opened “still can’t rid of you, what I tell you about this not being your department” I laughed ever so fake “can’t keep away” Damon was supposed to tell “I can tell, you have certainly kept this one at bay. From the get go, he was ready to leave” moving to the side so the doctor could come in “I am Dominik, I have been looking after you” I really shouldn’t be here but oh fucking well.

Dominik sat down next to Maurice’ bed “so, we have your lady in power here. What do you think happened?” he is asking that to Maurice that doesn’t even fucking care, he is so rude “clearly having a crisis” Maurice said it and he knew “very life threatening, I was reading your notes. You haven’t requested new medication in two months? You need this medication, it is so important. It stops this, still right now. You have to stay, you had a transfusion and we still need to clean out the bad blood, Mr Davenport this was touch and go. You probably feel weird, you are missing a few days, you are safe to move you into your own room but we will talk more. Get your head around what has happened is, that ok with you?” Maurice got his hand out “thank you” Maurice and the doctor shook hands “the porters will be along, I will give you his things to keep safe? Is that ok?” Dominik said to me “that is fine, thank you. You did so well, you made him better” even though I was in the way with things and didn’t approve of most things he was doing “that is fine” be back” he walked off “how is Reign?” Maurice asked “she is thinking where her parents are, she is ok. At my parent’ home, she wore her first dress today. But she is ok” I am really not about to stress Maurice out about the things that has been happening but I may tell him about his dad once they move him “I am sorry” that is the only thing he can say.

Maurice knows he has fucked up, I didn’t expect me to be mad at him already but I am “I love you Bonita, you know I do” I felt my heart literally miss a beat which hurt, those words that was nearly taken away from me. My eyes started to fill with tears, looking up at him “the man that loves Bonita would have told her this, you don’t remember anything but I do. You try and give CPR to the person you love, every last breath I gave to you because you wasn’t about to leave me here in this hell where everyone wants piece of you while I push them away, you wasn’t about to leave me. You died in my hands” I choked out “nobody will ever understand the feeling, having to push down at your chest, every second slipping away. I would have given you my last breath so I can hear you say Bonita, I nearly lost the man I love” placing my hands over my face as I cried into my hands, it hurts. I am still so scarred from it, it makes me sick to my stomach “what the fuck, why is something in my dick!” moving my hands away from my face “what you doing? Like seriously? Lay back down” wiping the tears that fell, Maurice just froze “someone touch my dick?” walking closer to the bed “how else you going to pee? Just don’t move, you won’t feel it” Maurice looks so upset about this “lay back down” fixing the covers on Maurice “I wanted to come to you” using the controls to lay him down “wait, Robyn. Before the whole dick thing, I didn’t know? I don’t know anything, I am so sorry that happened to you but you saved my life, you have given me the chance to actually not fuck up, to make you happy. I am so sorry please believe me” Maurice face planted right on my boob “thank you for that” I mumbled “love me please” he whined out “I will make it up to you, just let me get my head around everything. I just feel very weird about everything” he moved his head away from my breasts, placing my hands at the side of his face “just to see you looking into my eyes, this is all I wanted” I got my baby back.

Maurice is a pain, I wish he was asleep now “I would like to know who touched my dick? Like who had the right?” he won’t drop it, like there is worse things. We have so much to talk about, he just seems so blind sided with what actually happened, he won’t talk to me in way of like how he felt, what was happening to him. Did he he not feel himself dying, maybe he’s ignoring it “well it wasn’t myself, I am not sure who” I wish they put that oxygen mask over his mouth “I hope it wasn’t male because that is gay” smiling at the nurse, she is fixing his bed “well it doesn’t matter who did, we just want you better. Comfortable? Are you happy with the room?” she ain’t going to deal with Maurice and his stupidity “yes I am, but can you take this out of my dick?” the nurse walked off not answering the same question “Maurice, you know why. You’re still getting better, I am happy you have your own room now” I am just not getting him right now, I’ve really not expressed how I felt with things.

I am not going to tell Maurice about things just yet but just his dad, I am going to be with Reign because clearly he is fine and also his family want to see him but it’s my duty to tell him “anyways, before I go and see to Reign” I need to just leave, breathe a little “do I see her?” he asked “it’s about your dad, he took it rather bad you was here” I am not going to tell him just yet how mean he was to me “he uhm, he had a heart-attack Maurice. I think it was caused by stress and worry, maybe all the deceit but he is also here. But he is ok, don’t worry” the look on his face, he was more sad to hear this then to even hear what happened to me with him “my dad really had that? No way, I want to see him” shaking my head “please, just stay in bed. Get better so you can come home” to be just a family, that is all I want from him.

My dad is in hospital and I can’t even see him, this hurts so much. My dad is here, he could have died, I could have died. Resting my head back on the pillow, swallowing hard. I feel the pain in my heart and I am so sorry for what happened, I maybe did know it would happen but not like that, I didn’t want to die. Robyn does kind of hate me but then wants to love me, I deserve it and now I’m peeing in a bag, I am just so lost right now, I don’t know what to say or even do, only thing I can do is lay here. Lifting my arm up, the pain I felt has disappeared which is a blessing. I didn’t want to die at all, I have a daughter to think of but I knew shit like this could have happened. I am upset about my dad though, he for real had a heart attack, he’s a strong guy so I am shocked. Robyn did say it could be stress and heartbreak, I stressed everyone out so much “Maurice!” Hearing my mom’ voice lifting my head up seeing my mom rushing in “mom” my mom didn’t hold back, she grabbed my face and started kissing my face “how dare you let this happen” too many crying women in my life “you killed yourself! You realise this don’t you? I could have lost you Maurice” my mom crying her heart out, I feel so bad “you know how much I love you, how I told you I do love you kids. Why don’t any of you listen to me, I came here to you! Not your father, I always told you that you all mean so much to me. To stare into your eyes again” my mom kissed my cheek “my baby boy” I swallowed hard, I feel so bad but it happened and there was no way of me stopping the process “I am sorry mom, I do honestly feel bad” my mom walked away so Nalah could see me “you good idiot?” I smiled, Nalah kissed my cheek “I’m ok thanks” last time I was in hospital nobody was feeling this “Malik” dapping him “you scared me bro” I must have.

I am just in my own thoughts, I am trying to catch up with what the fuck even happened to me. Maybe I don’t care enough for my life but maybe I should, I do have a daughter to think of, I also have Robyn. This is just a mess “Maurice, you seem very quiet. What’s up?” Malik asked me “just thinking Malik, I have a lot on my mind. I’m always going to be stressed so I can never stop that can I?” Malik put his head down “where is Robyn?” He asked “she is also angry with me, she has gone to see Reign. I don’t know if she is going to bring her to see me though” rubbing my face “you need to man the fuck up” Nalah spoke up “Nalah!” My mom spat “you’re self loathing, you know how much shit you caused. Dad and you could have been dead! You did it to yourself and I bet you any money dad wouldn’t be where he is either. He is there because of you, your daughter is not able to bond with her father because of you, Robyn being ill is because of you and you want to lay here and be like sad and shit. Man up Maurice! This could have all been avoided, I don’t get your issue here. If I was Robyn I would leave your ass” mean mugging Nalah “don’t say that to him, he does so much for us, the best we can do is support him. Stop it now” my mom said “least dad wasn’t selfish and got himself ill. He was actually there for us all, especially you, he did everything. He fixed you! Just because Ally couldn’t wipe your ass you did this, you don’t know the shit that went on, you dragged our family through shit. You know how much it hurt to have people wait for you to die? It fucking hurt” Nalah got up from the chair to storm out.

I think it may have been a better solution if I did just die, I didn’t mean any of this to happen at all “my granddaughter, when will I see her? She was here but she wouldn’t let us see her, she refused. That is my blood too, why am I getting punished?” Sighing heavily “I don’t know mom, I can’t say. How is dad? What is he doing? Why is nobody with him?” My mom is ready to rip another asshole “I gave birth to you, I went through a terrible birth to have you. You think I will be sat with a man that gives me grief? I am here with you. He blamed me, blamed Malik for you. So no Maurice let him sit on his own and think about how nasty he has been with us. You don’t listen to me at all, all of you kids say the same things. Why am I not with Marquis, sniff around him for money? Is that what you all think of me” I groaned out “why didn’t god take me? Why are you all just talking shit” my mom stood up “take you!? For what? Your sister is right, your father is fine, and so his prodigy” frowning at my mom, she really called me that “say another word Maurice” she knew I was going too.

Shaking my head “another one bites the dust, the fuck is wrong with people? I’m here not well, I have just woke up from being nearly fucking dead, what I do wrong?” I asked Malik “for nearly dying bro, that’s what they mad at. It’s called care, shit nigga. You scared me, I thought you was sleeping. Only thing I am saying is I am not sure how long you wasn’t breathing for, I dragged you up and I didn’t know what to do. You don’t get it because you don’t see it but I ain’t like the females, I am here still for you. I am just sad about you getting ill and then dad. We been through a lot, it’s supposed to be a good time. I got a niece but instead we here, I think you need to just relax and just think a little” I hate thinking, thinking just makes me depressed “just relax bro” nodding my head, nobody wants to know now that I am awake.

#chrianna #chrianna ff #fanfic #fanfiction

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gamzee-the-capricious-fanfic · 5 years

Text

Chapter 1

Your name is Gamzee Makara and today you are attending a human school with all your friends, human and otherwise. Of course like all trolls you already had all necessary information kind of like miraculously inputted in your head from the schoolfeed. However this school was human and although the trolls have shared their knowledge and technology with the humans they still wanted to do things old school. Didn't matter much to you of course, you rather liked humans and of course where your friends go you wanted to go too. Especially your best bro and moirail Karkat Vantas. You’re not sure you could live without his constant yet adorable nagging. In fact he was currently doing just that you realize focusing back in the now.

“Gamzee are you fucking listening to me you addle panned bulge sucker!”

You smile lazily thinking he is really motherfucking cute when he is angry. He rambles on some more half-assed insults before he gets to the point.

“Like I was fucking saying before you got lost in the damn clouds or whatever, we are in room 218 with Tavros, Dave, you, and me of course. Here is your fucking key and I swear to god if you lose this I’m going to flip my shit.”

You will probably lose it. Luckily you have a sweet little moirail who shares a room with you so you can pester him if you lose it. He will rant and rave of course but that just adds to his charm you think.

“Will try my best motherfucking best bro. You know I be all up and losing shit sometimes.”

He rolls his eyes and huffs. You catch a glimpse of his miraculously red eyes and you wonder what it would be like to paint with his bl-- no, no, no. Not going to finish that thought. You wince as a sharp pain shoots through your head. You’ve been having a rough few days. You are currently in the process of getting off sopor slime due to the fact that 1. It was required to attend the school, and 2. Karkat has been really insistent about it. Still, you were not enjoying the withdrawal symptoms. Karkat looks at you with concern noticing you wince.

“You doing ok?”

You nod and immediately wince again as that made your head pound. “Yea- well, kinda? Motherfucking I feel like my pan gon all up and explode but uh, s’pose it won’t do that so I’m probably ok?”

You don’t sound very sure. Karkat nods slowly concern still lighting up his eyes but he doesn’t comment. He just grabs your arm and starts guiding you towards the dorm hive-- building you guess you should call it. The building itself wasn’t super interesting you thought, a bland red bricked structure with glass doors, and windows lined symmetrically up the building. Karkat starts rambling about the room being on the second floor but you aren’t really listening. When you enter the building there are a bunch of trolls and humans crowding the elevator, you are surprised that some of the humans have so much stuff. You and Karkat have a rolling suitcase each full of your stuff. Of course you do have some things captchalogged. Mainly just a bunch of horns you couldn’t fit in your bag, and of course your clubs. Can’t go anywhere without them!

Not interested in waiting for the elevator you lift Karkat’s and your bag and head up the stairs. Despite being essentially skin and bones due to bad eating habits you do have a substantial amount of strength as is typical of higher blood castes. Karkat follows you up the stairs grumbling about being able to carry his own bag but you ignore him, you love helping a bro out. After reaching the second floor Karkat grabs his bag again and leads the way to the room. It will likely take you quite a few times before you remember how to get to the room. Karkat unlocks and opens the door to the dorm room and you guys head in. Looking around you can see that the first area you walk into is a lounge on one side with a kitchen on the other, definitely cozy. Past that is the bedroom area with two sets of bunk beds one on either side, a window in between. There is also two wardrobe looking things next to the beds, guess you gotta share clothing space with your bunkmate. Not really a problem for you though, only got a few outfits as is.

Looking around you realize you and Karkat are the first here. Guess you get first choice on which bunk. You head to the right side bunk and start pulling your bedding out of your suitcase haphazardly throwing it all on the top bunk. You know that Tavros will be on your side and he has a bit of a thing with being up high. You don’t mind though. After much insistence from Karkat you put your clothing away with a little more care. Looking over you see he has claimed the bottom bunk of the bunk bed on the left. While he also wasn’t the neatest troll he still took more care making up the bed than you did.

While you are filling the fridge with Faygo the door opens and Dave walks in. He looks over at you, your not exactly sure what expression he is making because of his shades. All you know is that no one is going to make you part with the faygo. He continues on into the bedroom to set his stuff up and you shake your head trying to shake off your sudden bout of irritability. It is not like you to be so volatile over little things you think. Though, you don’t really know what you are like when you aren’t consistently high. You hope the trend doesn’t continue, it kinda puts off your friendly clown persona. You focus back into reality when you hear Karkat raising his voice in the bedroom.

“Strider for the love of a probing cretin you are NOT going to just leave those shitty fucking swords around!”

You poke your head into the room. “What?? He gets to have swords but I can’t make a horn pile?”

Karkat makes a frustrated sound. “Neither of you are leaving any of this shit around you fucking idiots!”

You and Dave look at each other and you roll your eyes, you assume he does the same. Either way Dave recaptchalogs his shitty swords to appease Karkat. You would/did do the same. While you love Karkat his rants about it wouldn’t be worth the effort. He could go on for hours, you’ve definitely been on the receiving end of one such rant. Dave goes on to set up the rest of his stuff, he also brought a TV and gaming systems for the lounge. You are not very good at games, being high 24/7 isn’t very great for certain types of games. Karkat perks up when Dave mentions you can play movies on the gaming systems too. He sure loves his romcoms.

You are about to tell Karkat that you are going to look for Tavros when he suddenly comes in looking quite disheveled.

“Whoa bro, what motherfuckin happened to get you all mussed up?” You can’t help but to be concerned for him, you have quite the flush crush on him.

“U-uh yeah, just uh, fell down the stairs.. Twice.” He blushes embarrassed. He’s quite the clumsy motherfucker.

Dave mutters under his breath. “Told you about the stairs bro.”

You’re not sure what that means but you are too focused on Tavros to care. You pick up his bags and carry them into the bedroom as he follows. You point out the bunk under yours as his. He smiles quite motherfucking adorably before he grabs his bags from you and starts unpacking. You can’t help but to watch him fondly as he sets up his bed. After making the bed he starts placing cute plushies on the bed. You smile a bit feeling your blood pusher melt even more for him. Karkat and Dave kind of give Tavros a look that makes you want to snarl at them. You close your eyes and count to ten, gotta get this anger shit under wraps. When you open your eyes Karkat is looking at you with a slightly confused expression, you smile at him to let him know you are just fine. Except of course your thinkpan kind of explodes with pain and you hiss gripping your head.

“Motherfuck!”

You don’t remember sitting on the floor but there you are when you open your eyes. Karkat is crouched in front of you looking worried.

“Hey dumbfuck, you okay? Do you need something to help with the headache?”

You nod unable to speak as another strike of pain lances through your head. This is not how you wanted today to go. In fact you really weren’t expecting the whole withdrawal thing in general. You were under the impression it would be really simple. Not true at motherfucking all. You feel like a whole perigee has passed by the time Karkat returns with some pain killers and water. You eagerly swallow that shit up.

“Maybe you should lie down dude.”

You glare at Dave, your not sure why but his advice just pissed you off. He just shrugs nonchalantly and it pisses you off more. Before you say something stupid Karkat is shooshpapping you and you forget why you were angry.

“Yeah you really should uh, take a break Gamzee.” Tavros stutters in that cute way of his.

There is no way you can say no to that so you somewhat reluctantly climb up to your bed and burrow into your blankets with a sigh. Surprisingly you fall asleep.

You wake up a few hours later due to the fact that Karkat was shaking you and shouting in that way that he does.

“Wake the fuck up Gamzee. We are going to get lunch and I am not leaving you behind you malnourished fuck. Also if I have to listen to your snoring any longer I’m going to bash my brains out.”

You grumble an apology still not quite fully awake. You really just want to go back to sleep but Karkat keeps insisting until you sit up. You yawn and hear a commotion coming from the lounge room. You assume all of your other friends have arrived and they are probably impatiently waiting on you. Karkat huffs as you take your time moving to climb down but suddenly you feel kind of dizzy and next thing you know you are on the floor. You groan in pain, you must have accidentally lurched to far forward when you got dizzy. You realize Karkat is talking to you sounding exasperated.

“Well I hope that fucking woke you up. Why the fuck did you do that you prickish douchey waste of space!?”

“I assure you it was not on motherfuckin purpose, I got all sorts of dizzy.”

You mumble all of this while facedown on the floor, somehow Karkat hears all of it.

“Probably because you haven’t eaten properly, well hurry up and get up so we can leave.”

You manage to get yourself up and follow Karkat into the lounge. You see all of your friends kind of crammed all up in the room all talking and chattering. It kind of makes your head hurt again. Part of you wishes you could just rip out all of their ton-- not again. You gotta get that under control. No way could you ever hurt your friends. Vriska looks over at you.

“Wow Makara you look like shit.”

“Wow really?” You reply sarcastically.

Vriska looks taken aback at that. Not everyone knew that you were going sober so she probably assumed you were still doped up.

“Uh, okay, wow, not what I was expecting you to say. Are you sober for once?” She comments.

You nod tiredly, “and I’m gonna stay that way, sorry if I act all motherfuckin weird, not exactly used to this.”

She shrugs and nods, you assume that means she understands. You take a deep breath and try to think positively. You are not going to be any fun if you keep being such a grump.

“Alright you shitfucking bitching wrigglerfucks, lets fucking go, I’m hungry and I am not going to wait on you any longer.”

You smile at Karkat’s weird insult, he can be quite creative. You and the rest of the crew start following Karkat, some such as Vriska and Eridan complain about letting Karkat take the lead. They don’t really do anything though. You slow down to walk beside Tavros towards the back of the group.

“Sorry about earlier Tavbro.”

“It’s uh, no problem Gam.” He smiles up at you.

You can’t help but blush a bit. God that smile makes you weak in the knees. You look away and quickly change the subject.

“Uh so are you excited to motherfuckin start classes and such?”

He nods. “Yeah uh, It will be interesting to see how humans learn. It's so unfamiliar.”

You nod in agreement. Though honestly you only came to this school, well, university apparently. You are not quite sure about school progression as you never had experience with it. But here you are taking essentially ‘Human Studies’. The reason most of your friends are taking is so that they can have an easier time at working on Earth and understanding human customs. You are just in it for the ride, following your friends as you tend to do. You never really thought that hard about the future before. I mean just a sweep ago your path had been chosen for you. Like all purple bloods your destiny was to be a subjuggulator. I mean if you weren’t culled for you addiction by then. But since Feferi became the reigning empress everything changed. Of course she was still here going to school with you, as empress her word is law so it’s not as though she has to do paperwork or anything really. She gets special treatment here of course but she just wants to be like everyone else still.

You realize you have been lost in thought for a while and you glance over at Tavros. He was studying your face, a slight blush on his own but when you look at him he quickly looks away. You’re not sure what that was all about. Either way it looks like you guys have come to a stop at one of the ‘cafeterias’ as the humans call it. There are a few on the campus with different options at each apparently. You don’t particularly care, you don’t have much interest in food. For some reason everything tastes dull and unappetizing when compared to the sopor you used to consume.

“Hey Gamzee, go save us a table.” Karkat says.

You nod and oblige while everyone else goes to grab food. Karkat has been the one who picks out and decides what you eat. You have a hard time when it comes to choosing what to eat. You know you can’t rely on him forever but he seems to enjoy doing it at the moment. He likes to bring you a variety of food items to see if you will find one that you actually like. Maybe it’s like a challenge for him. You may also one day get more used to real food. Maybe even enjoy it. But right now you just try your best. After a few minutes your friends start to return to populate the table with their variety of food items. Some are familiar to you while others are not. This school has both common troll food items and human food items. Karkat comes to the table last carrying food for himself and for you. Karkat appears to have picked out a simple hamburger fry combo, something that Dave has mentioned before. Karkat tosses you a couple of granola bars, some water, and also a bowl of what you assume is some sort of human dessert.

“Here.” He points to the bowl. “It’s called Apple pie, Dave suggested it.”

You go ahead and open one of the granola bars and start eating it, you try not to notice some of your friends looking at you with what you assume is pity. You hope they get over it soon, your not one to enjoy anyone's pity spheres upon you. You finish the first granola bar relatively quickly and start on the second. When you bite into it you are quite surprised, It actually kind of tastes like something. Karkat notices your reaction.

“Oh, do you actually like one of them? That one has uh..” He leans over to read the label. “Peanut butter. I’ll keep that in mind, do you actually like it?”

“Yeah, I think so? Kind of motherfuckin surprised me really. It’s better than not tasting anything.”

Karkat looks pleased at that. While you finish the bar you kind of just listen to the chattering of your friends. You think it is quite pleasant that everyone is together and getting along. Sometimes it used to be a bit dicey between some of your friends but you think meeting Dave, John, Rose, and Jade really helped bring everyone together in a more healthy way. Karkat pauses his conversation with John and hands you one of his fries. You take it of course and pop it in your mouth. Doesn’t taste like anything. Looking at Karkat he’s back to talking with John. Sometimes you kinda feel a bit like a barkbeast with Karkat just randomly giving you pieces of his food. Oh well. You turn now to the bowl of this, ‘apple pie’ shit. It looks like some goop spilling out of flimsy pastry. You take a very tiny bite out of it. The gooeyness of it kind of reminds you of your favored slime but without the taste. It does have a slight taste to it but your not sure if you like it or not. Either way you are not one to waste shit so you go ahead and eat the rest of it.

You open up the water and take a sip of it before reaching into your pocket and pulling out some pills. They are essentially ‘sopor pills’. It is what you are using to slowly wean yourself off of sopor. It doesn’t really give you the high you would like but it still definitely chills you the fuck out. You pop two pills in your mouth and take a swig of the water. Afterwards you put the pill bottle back into your pocket all safe like. It wouldn’t bode well for you to lose those. Karkat hands you a couple more fries that presumably he doesn’t want. You know you probably should refuse them honestly but you don’t. You can’t eat too much or it all comes right back up but you don’t think you’ve quite reached that threshold. Or at least you hope you haven’t. Some days are better than others but that is the reason you are very thin these days. You’ve always been on the skinny side but you’ve really had a hard time keeping weight on you now. But as Karkat says, it’s a work in progress.

It takes you only a few more minutes before you realize you’ve fucked up. You feel the telltale signs that you are about to hurl your guts up. You jolt out of your chair and hastily head to the nearest ablution block, er, bathroom. Karkat curses behind you back at the table. You really hope he doesn’t follow you. You only barely make it into a stall before you are puking your lunch right back up into the toilet. You are glad you at least made it into the bathroom, would have been really shitty if you puked in front of all your friends. Especially Tavros, you would rather he didn’t see you like this. You hear someone come into the bathroom, unsurprisingly you hear Karkat.

“Gamzee? Are you ok?”

“Just peachy my invertebrother.” You sound the opposite of ‘just peachy’.

You flush the toilet and just sit there for a little bit, just in case you have anything else left in you to puke up. Karkat patiently waits for you like the good moirail that he is. Once you are confident you won’t puke anymore you stand up and exit the stall. You see Karkat looking at you all concerned like. You immediately head to the sink to rinse out your mouth. When you look up into the mirror you see how you look. You look very haggard, your hair is a bit of a mess, you have bags under your eyes, and your clown makeup is all smeared and messed up now. You sigh and decide you ought to just clean the rest of the makeup off your face. You didn’t bring any white paint with you. When you clean off the makeup you feel almost naked. You are not used to being without it, especially in public. Your face looks foreign to you, it makes you feel a little uneasy. You turn back to Karkat.

“You know you don’t look half bad without the whole clown getup right?”

“...makes me feel weird without it though. It’s like, motherfuckin me ya know?”

“No, I don’t know and I don’t think I will ever understand your weird clown religion or customs. Let's just get on back to everyone ok?”

“...actually are you ok if I just head back to the room? Not really feeling like seein any motherfuckers right now.”

“Oh, yeah Gamzee that’s fine. I get it.” he looks at you sympathetically. “Do you want me to come with you?”

You are about to say no but then, you really don’t want to be alone either. Plus you are not sure you can make your way back. “Uh, yeah if that is ok, don’t mean to fuck up your plans or anything.”

“Gamzee, you insufferable fucking douchecrumpet, you are a little more important then the rest of those dipshits.”

You smile a little at that. Karkat is very good at making you feel better. He takes you back to your guys’ dorm room thankfully avoiding notice of your friends. You sit on his bed while he grabs you another water from the fridge. Your throat feels raw so you happily drink the water, the cool fluid soothing your throat a bit. Karkat gestures for you to lie down and you obey. He lies next to you wrapping his arms around you. For being so prickly Karkat is actually a huge snuggler. He starts making a sound reminiscent to a purrbeast purring. It’s an instinctive calming mechanism which automatically soothes you. So much so that you start to drift off to sleep.

#chapter 1

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thethespacecoyote · 7 years

Note

10 or 23 rhack, please?

I’ll still try to do 10 but for now here’s 23! I actually had some fun making this.

Modern AU!

Rhys watched idly as the outside world blew past, scattered houses and trees blurring by against the shimmering backdrop of the ocean. He rested his temple against the window, feeling the vibrations. The train hummed smoothly along, carting day-trippers and businessmen alike south along the coastline.

Rhys was pleased. The train wasn’t packed, despite its late-afternoon stops, leaving the seat next to him happily empty. Because even if he didn’t get some nosy commuter wanting to ask about everything from where he wwas going to what he did for a living to what his favorite flavor if ice cream was, he would at least have to deal with another body bunching in uncomfortably close and run the risk of needing to maneuver over their knees if they fell asleep and he needed to go to the bathroom.

This way, he had space for his laptop bag, which freed up the legroom below so he could stretch out all the way and avoid the cramping that sometimes pinched in his muscles on those crowded train trips.

His mom had hinted several times she’d buy him a car or at least put up for the down payment to spare him the apparent iniquity of using public transit, but the allure of actually purchasing something as big as a car outright was too much so he was waiting and saving until he could get one for himself. In the mean time, the train was the best option, and the only one where you could nap for half of the trip without causing a major accident.

Rhys crossed his arms loosely over his chest, turning away from the window and sliding down in his seat, trying to get comfortable enough to take said nap. He had his laptop and his phone and the train had free Wi-Fi, but drowsiness tugged at his eyebrows and he wanted to be fully awake by the time Vaughn picked him up from the train station, so hunkering down and passing out for a couple hours now while he was bored and had the time just made sense.

He was just starting to drift off, dreams about all the fun he was going to get up to while visiting his bro swimming in his mind, when a sudden commotion jolted him awake. He rapidly blinked the sleep from his eyes, pushing himself up straight as the din continued. He made out one shouting voice needled by a couple muted ones, followed by the thumping of footsteps that grew louder and louder and closer. Rhys shifted to the other seat, leaning out into the aisle as he listened in. His heart beat quicker—there were signs all over the station and the train itself warning about potential dangers and how if you saw something you should say something, and just as Rhys was wondering if he should worry about being held hostage the door near the front of the carriage flew open.

Rhys was a little ashamed of the frightened yipe he let out when a man stormed through, the floor shuddering with each angry stomp and cutting murmur that spilled from him. Rhys’ arms threw up defensively about his body, but after a moment he realized this guy was a lot more indignant businessman than violent criminal. His charcoal suit, though rumpled, was obviously of high quality. Rhys had worked the summer after his freshman year selling and fitting suits in the mall by his parent’s house, and while he’d quit before he’d made much out of it, he ended up learning quite a bit. The lapel lifted sharply in a sleek Italian cut, and as he violently adjusted his dress collar Rhys caught a glimpse of cold cufflinks that matched the tie the man was in the process of loosening.

Rhys watched as the man thumped down the aisle, the rest of the passengers shrinking in their seats or blindly busying themselves in their books or laptops as to not catch the man’s attention. Rhys realized he was staring a moment too late, as the man’s sharp eyes suddenly lifted to fix upon him and he started to head in Rhys’ direction.

A broad hand thudded atop the plush head of the seat next to Rhys, making him flinch and rear back, staring up at the man like a frightened puppy. Tan fingers stroked angrily against the cloudy blue leather, expensive rings winking in the sun and confusing Rhys as to whether he should look at them or the piercing eyes glaring down on him.

“Move over, kiddo, I’m taking this spot.”

Rhys flattened himself against the window as the man dropped down into the seat, back thudding against the cushion with a frustrated huff that blew hair out of his eyes. He seemed to completely ignore Rhys after that, muttering to himself as he pulled out his phone and started to tap furiously at what Rhys first assumed was a message. However, as he peered curiously over he could see it to be some kind of mobile game involving popping colored balloons for points. Rhys stayed still, eyes alternating between the inside of his hoodie collar and the rapid movement of the man’s fingers and the angry concentration in his eyebrows. After a couple minutes and a new high score, the man shut off his phone with a huff, shoving it into his pocket.

“Frikkin’ bitch…” He moaned, dragging his hand down his face. His legs kicked out underneath the seat in front of him, the tense anger draining out of him and leaving what seemed to be just a simmering fury. Rhys watched tentatively, like he was dealing with a pissed-off lion that could maul him in a moment’s notice if he wasn’t careful.

Rhys figured he should probably just go back to staring out the window or trying to take his nap, but like the idiot he was he decided to prod his new seat mate. He untangled himself from the defensive posture he’d managed to bunch himself into, resting his hand on the armrest separating them.

“P-Penny for your thoughts?” Regretfully, his voice came out as a squeak.

He almost immediately wished he hadn’t spoken up, because the the other man’s neck snapped to him like it’d been broken, eyes angry and affronted as he glared at Rhys’ shirking expression.

“What was that?”

“U-Um, I mean, I just—“ Rhys faltered, unsure of what he’d been thinking to start this conversation. This guy had just barreled into his car, worked into a tizzy, and stolen the seat next to him. Obviously, he didn’t want to be bothered, and yet here Rhys was trying to start up a conversation—why was he trying to do that?

Because the guy wore a nice suit and had flawless bronzed skin and that kind of carelessly styled hair that drove Rhys absolutely wild. It was the kind of hair you expected to see in bed after sex and he wanted to run his hands through it and maybe give it a little tug.

The guy was hot. Basically.

“You…you’re just…um, who’s the bitch?”

The man narrowed his eyes, turning and leaning over the armrest right into Rhys’ space.

“Your momma ever teach you not to stick your nose in other people’s business?” He grumbled, and Rhys’ cheeks colored as he shrunk back, ready to call this a loss and sink into embarrassment, when the older man kept going.

“…It’s my frikkin girlfriend. She always gets bitchy on these long trips but then she doesn’t wanna take the car either, so what the hell am I suppose to do, y’know?” For the first time, Rhys notices the slight slur to the man’s words. This was a guy who could afford to get drunk on a train.

“What…what did she do exactly?” The man snorted, shifting so he sat slightly sideways in his seat, knee out into Rhys’ space and nearly touching his thigh.

“She orders the fish, see? And she always orders the fish. So I tell her if she doesn’t stop doing that I’m not gonna wanna go down on her anymore cause you know. Fish. Get it?” The man’s hands helped him tell the story, flopping around on well-oiled wrists. “Yeah, you get it, handsome lil’ thing like you, you probably get all the tail.”

Rhys was usually the tail being had, but he merely nodded along to the older man’s story as he carried on.

“Anyway she gets all mad at me making jokes about her junk in front of the guy taking the order but it’s just a joke and the attendant doesn’t care, he’s paid to listen to whatever I say but she doesn’t let it go, and then when I decide to order just…just a little bit of after-dinner whiskey, see?” He holds two fingers together for emphasis. “She goes all ballistic on me. ‘Bout how I’m always drinking whenever I’m with her and how if I really liked her I wouldn’t be ordering booze all hours of the day, and then I tell her if she wasn’t such a capital B bitch maybe I wouldn’t have to drink. But she’s upset, so I ask her what I should order like the gentleman I am, and she says to get a diet coke. Diet! Can you believe it? Says I’ve been packing on the pounds lately and well…” He snorted, eyes flitting to the front of the cabin. “Pretty sure you guys all heard the rest.”

“Um…yeah. Kind of did.” Rhys laughed nervously. “A-Actually, I kind of thought for a moment that something was up, like….people were trying to rob the car or something.”

“Heh, you did? What, like old-timey train bandits?” The man snickered, forming a gun with his hand and affecting a harsh accent as he nudged the barrel into Rhys’ side. “Hands up, kiddo, this ‘ere’s a stick-up!”

“Please don’t, I have a family to care for!” Rhys faux-cried as he stuck up his hands, eyes fluttering like he was about to faint across the seat. The man found this endlessly funny, because his chest heaved with laugher until his voice was practically soundless.

“Shucks kid, you’re a hell of a lot more fun than the ice queen in first class.” He patted Rhys’ shoulder and showed him his smile and oh. Oh. If Rhys didn’t already think he was handsome, that did him in. It was the kind of smile that bunched up in the cheekbones and reached the eyes with a flirtatious wink. It made fuzzy feelings dance in Rhys’ stomach.

“A-And you’re a lot better than the snoring businessmen who usually sit next to me, or the mom’s who just wanna tell me about their kids and ask where I’m going to school…”

“Should hope so. I’m a lot more fun than all that, trust me.”

Rhys didn’t know a thing about this guy but he did, almost immediately. He had a weird, hypnotic sort of charm that already had Rhys leaning back over the armrest to get closer.

Suddenly, as if responding to his creeping interest, the man slid his arm around Rhys’ shoulders like they were old friends. He jumped slightly at that, but the man just yanked him closer. The armrest pressed uncomfortably into Rhys’ ribs, but the sudden proximity and the man’s breath—slightly warm from the whiskey—ghosting over his face left him numb to it.

“Shoot, just remembered I didn’t ask your name yet…what do they call ya, pumpkin?”

Rhys momentarily forgot himself, dizzied by the sudden scent and warmth he’d been pulled into. This guy seemed to radiate warmth and blossomed with musky cologne that made Rhys think of black tie dinners and a cabin fireside all rolled up together.

“Rhys. Rhyyys. Rhysie.” Jack repeated his name like he was trying to figure out whether he liked how it felt in his mouth. “That’s one you don’t hear everyday.”

“Yeah, my mom had a friend with that name and really liked it…don’t bother asking me how it’s spelled though, it’s…” he laughed softly. “It’s a headache.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’ve got an easy one. J-A-C-K.”

“Jack?”

“Bingo, kiddo. Nice and simple. No B.S.”

“I like it.” Rhys wasn’t lying. A name like “Jack” just seemed to fit this guy like the way his suit did. Sharp and striking, but with a bit of a relaxed, casual touch. He seemed the type of person to dress to the nines and go to a chain restaurant, just to ensure he’d be the center of attention.

Jack’s lips curled at the edges, like a sticker peeling up. He rubbed Rhys’ upper arm, tugging him in closer, until he was practically resting against his shoulder. His brain continued shorting out, just allowing Jack to touch him and shift him around however he saw fit.

“And I like you, kiddo. Just what I needed after all that crap…” Rhys heart thumped against his hoodie as Jack petted him like a fussy kitten, looking wistfully out the window behind him. “Too bad this ride ain’t longer…”

Jack’s brows furrowed suddenly in thought, before bright realization beamed across his face. He roughly grabbed both of Rhys’ shoulders, turning the kid more towards him.

“Oh, wait, wait. I got it. I can take you out with me!”

Rhys gaped in startled confusion at the sudden grab and the way Jack’s smile grew, corners cutting into his cheeks.

“U-Uh, pardon?”

“You see, my girlfriend and I had reservations at this great place, steaks as big as your head and drinks that’ll put ya in a coma, but like hell I’m gonna go with her after that little scene.” Jack sneered, eyes narrowing towards the front of the compartment. He blew air rudely between his lips. “Whatever. She can have fun figuring out how to get home without my credit card.”

“U-Um, that’s not necessary, really,” Rhys faltered, hands resting on Jack’s wrists. “Besides, um, I kind of had plans with a friend, and I don’t really think I should—“

“Just tell ‘em other plans came up. Hell, to make up for it, they can meet us for breakfast in the morning. My treat.”

“In the…the morning?”

Jack winked at him, smile never hesitating.

“Well sure, pumpkin. You think I’d travel all this way for dinner and not have a room to sleep it off in?”

“H-Hold on—“ This was all going too fast for Rhys. One moment, he’d been joking along with Jack, and now he was openly flirting with him and ditching his girlfriend to invite him out to dinner and even insinuating they spend the night together.

As enticing as Jack was, this felt a little too much, too fast. Rhys wasn’t a prude, not by a long shot, but he wasn’t the type of guy to engage in random hookups on the fly. How old was Jack, anyway? The tasteful puff of grey hair springing from his crown put him at at least forty, unless he was just aging prematurely, but that felt like a stretch.

“What d’you mean ‘hold on,’ kiddo?”

Rhys thought he saw Jack’s smile falter, but it might just be the trees rushing behind them outside the train window, cutting off the amber glow of the sun setting over the ocean. It would be night soon enough, probably well into sunset by the time the train pulled into the station. Vaughn was probably already getting read to come drive and pick him up.

Rhys glanced about for a distraction as his mind scrabbled for some kind of an excuse, a reason he couldn’t spend the night with Jack aside from the reasons that had already been shut down, when his hand grabbed Rhys’ collar and yanked him closer until they were nose to nose.

“I’ll cut right to the chase, kiddo. I’m not the kind of guy who spends the night alone.” He breathed right into Rhys’ mouth, as if trying to give him a taste of what could be. “I could go up to any old chick or dude in that city and have them in my bed not ten minutes later. So here’s your chance to get in on the ground floor. You might not get another one.”

Rhys grasped frantically for his senses, trying to settle on a decision and get his tongue to force it out, but Jack’s proximity and ultimatum was sending his brain into a flurry. All he could see was Jack’s eyes this close, brows creased and irises still vibrant sea green, like a neon sign lit prematurely in the flagging sunset.

Rhys swallowed, the conscious movement helping him think things clearer.

He’d already planned on staying with Vaughn for almost a week. They’d still have plenty of nights to hang out and go to dinner and do all the things they’d been planning on doing. One night with a handsome stranger wasn’t going to change things that much.

“So?” Jack pulled back slightly, just enough so that Rhys could see his entire face again, in its full, charming glory. “What do you say, Rhysie?”

Jack’s arm was looped around Rhys’ waist, hand stuck in his hoodie pocket as the two of them left the train together. Rhys’ laptop bag bobbed awkwardly between them but Jack didn’t seem to mind. In just an hour’s time, the space between them had shrunk to just the little space between their hips, and Rhys’ cheeks heated as he imagined where how close they’d be in another hour, two hours’ time.

The sun had long died over the train behind them, its silvery paneling glowing with the faint remains of red and purple that still streaked over the sky. Rhys looked briefly over his shoulder at it, his ears full of Jack’s voice as he noticed someone was staring at them.

The short red dress and heels set her apart from the rest of the tired, disembarking passengers, as did the piercing green eyes that seemed to glow just the way Jack’s did. She was looking at Rhys’ like she’d expected him to be there all along—or at least someone like him. He felt uncomfortable, then, like he’d done something wrong but only one other person in the world knew it.

It was only for a moment, though, as Jack tugged him away from the main body of the departing crowd and towards the curb, where a smartly dressed driver opened the backseat door to a large, sleek black limousine. Any regrets Rhys might have felt were dashed as Jack slid into the leather seats effortlessly as oil, open arms and devilish smile welcoming Rhys into his evening promise, rich with the dark comforts of luxury.

#spacetext #long post #rhack #modern AU #fanfic #referenced jack/moxxi #tftbl #enjoy nessie!#nessiefromspace

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corvid-knight · 6 years

Text

Demon Eyes - chapter 5

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13740258/chapters/31715238

tw for description of a car accident, blood, and death

You don't panic the next morning.

To be fair, that may be mostly because Karkat's not cuddled up to you when you wake up. He was there all night, though, and you're pretty sure he hasn't been gone long—even though the air mattress sheds heat faster than a normal bed would, the space where he was is still warm when you roll over into it.

Which is...good. Really good. You relax and pull the sleeping bag over your head to block out the morning light, realizing as you breathe in that Karkat must smell like honeysuckle and...okay, this is the absolute worst thought, but puppies.That's a pretty big component of the scent he's left on the blanket; that smell that anybody who's spent time around dogs too young to get bathed knows, warm and neither pleasant nor unpleasant, at least not to you. And with the sweeter and almost floral scent layered on top of it, you kind of wish the result wasn't so damn faint.

"Jesus fuck, Dave, do you ever think about anything normal?" Karkat sounds somewhere between confused and exasperated, and you uncover your face just in time to have a clean shirt and a fresh pair of jeans fall on it, blinding you again. "I didn't need to know I smell like a fucking puppy, okay?"

Oh, god, he heard all of that. Kill me now. "Why the hell did you have to listen?"

"It's not my fault all your mental blocks go down when you're half asleep!"

"A gentleman would stop listening when he realized it counted as spying, asshole." You huff, yanking the sleeping bag back over your head so you can start the slightly-complicated process of getting dressed without either getting up or having skin show. It probably looks weird as fuck to anyone watching.

Sure enough, Karkat's laughing as you struggle into your shirt, little half-muffled snorts that make your heart reconsider the proper cadence of your pulse. You can't even see him right now, and you're still smiling like a lovestruck idiot.

Lovestruck. Your smile fades as you get your pants on. Love. Do I—no. Fuck, no. I can't. I can't, he'll—

"Hey." The blanket over your head is pulled back, and you blink up at Karkat, who's leaning over you with a concerned expression that's rapidly becoming very familiar. "There's no 'he.' He's gone. It's okay."

"Who—fuck." Get that damn tremor out of your voice and try again. "Who said I wasn't okay?"

It's a little bit difficult not to flinch when his hand comes down toward you—you're in such a vulnerable position, flat on your back and tangled up in blankets and the clothes you just changed out of. This is very nearly a textbook example of what to never do around a demon, around anyone or anything dangerous...

All he does is smooth your hair back from your face.

"You're still not all the way awake." When Karkat takes his hand away, you realize you were leaning into his touch. "Which means you don't have to say shit for me to know it. I think I could've told you weren't okay anyway, though—it was pretty fucking obvious."

"I—" What? What, exactly? What the fuck are you going to say to him?

He saves you from having to figure that out by shrugging and interrupting you. "There's more granola bars on the driver's seat, plus a thing of crackers. It's a shitty breakfast, but we can stop somewhere and get you more later."

"Eh, I can run on what we got."

"Like fuck you can. Eat what there is while I pack this shit up, and we're stopping to get you more food later." He crosses his arms and scowls, and you make the decision to not start another argument right now.

Instead, you grab your clothes and hop down off the tailgate, going around to sit in the driver's seat and examine what Karkat's left there for you. It's kind of funny, actually—you kind of remember hiding these. It was a good six months ago, but Bro was going through one of his periodic phases where he pretty much left you to fend for yourself and sabotaged you every way he could. Acquiring and stashing nonperishable food items was the only thing you could do about it, and you guess there were some left that you never had to eat.

Pretty fucking impressive that Karkat managed to find them when Bro couldn't, though...

"Thanks. Remember that I'm more perceptive than that asshole, though." The demon opens the door to toss the neatly-rolled-up sleeping bags and air mattress in the back seat, then slams it again and comes up to your open window, grinning at you. "Do you want me to drive, or are you good?"

"I'm good." You shove the empty wrappers in your pocket. It's a shitty reason to want to be the one to drive, but that puts me in control of something. Feels better.

"Hey, I wouldn't call that shitty."

"Look, just 'cause you can hear me thinking doesn't mean you gotta respond to it."

"No, but sometimes you think things that come across as fucking stupid, and I have to clue you in that they are fucking stupid." Karkat snorts and steps away from the window; you retrieve the keys as he walks around to the passenger side. As soon as he's in you start the truck, and he nods. "We've got two more days of driving. Or one, if you want me to pull an all-nighter, or three, if you want to take it slow. Your choice."

"It's too early to make choices, man."

Another snort, this one suspiciously close to being a laugh as he picks up the phone. "Fair enough. But I'm still going to make you choose somewhere to stop for breakfast."

"Oh, fuck you." But you grin and shove back at him when he shoves at your shoulder.

You still refuse to actually choose, just to annoy him. Karkat talks you into stopping at the second McDonald's you pass, though, and he orders for you again. This time you eat before you let yourself zone out.

Three hours later, Karkat stops playing with the radio and goes perfectly still in his seat, and you drag your attention off the road and back to him. His face is perfectly blank, giving you absolutely no clue what's going on, but you can see too-sharp teeth in his half-open mouth, and unless you're imagining shit his skin's gone whiter and his hair darker. Closer to how he looked when he killed Bro; closer to fully, obviously demon.

"Karkat, what—"

His attention snaps onto you as soon as you speak, and you can't help but flinch and look back at the road. He's so fucking intense right now that having him look at you is like catching on fire.

"Pull over," he growls. And it really is a growl; deep, rough, and terrifying in a way that cuts through the logical part of your brain to the base programming, the leftover instincts from when humans were prey animals. It's a reminder that to his kind you might as well still be prey.

"But—"

"Fucking pull over! Now, Dave, fuck, pull the fuck over!" When he slams his hand against the glove compartment, you almost drive straight into the ditch. "Stop the car, stop the fucking car, stop—"

"I am, I swear, ju—just give me—give me a sec, I swear—" Shit. You can't finish talking. Karkat stops shouting, though, unclipping his seatbelt and continuing to growl as you manage to pull over onto the shoulder.

Before you can even get the gearshift into park, he's got the door open and he's gone, dashing across the road without even bothering to check for oncoming traffic. By the time you manage to get out of the truck, he's vaulted the median barrier.

"Karkat!" The demon might not even hear you. He sure as hell doesn't turn around. Shit. You pop open the glovebox, grab the first gun your hand touches, and shove it into the back of your waistband as you follow him.

You're climbing over the median when you actually figure out where he's heading, and you very nearly faceplant on the asphalt. It's a double dose of shit you're terrified of: a cop car with lights flashing but the siren silent, pulled over on the shoulder because some poor asshole's gone off the road and flipped their car. This one's as bad as any accident you've seen, too—the whole side of the car's crumpled, and the cop's kneeling on the ground next to a person so bloodied that you can't make any judgements on their gender or age.

Oh fuck no. I'm not fucking going over there. I don't want to see it, I can't see it, I can't—

That's what you're thinking, but you're still moving towards the wrecked car instead of away. Because that's where Karkat is.

By the time you get close enough to hear what's going on, the cop's on his feet with his hand uncomfortably close to his gun. Since he's got Karkat a few feet away from him, snarling like an animal, you don't totally blame him. Karkat, what the fuck are you doing—

He looks at you and whines, red eyes so wide they seem to take up half his face again, and you get a blast of anxiety and empathetic pain from him that makes you stagger back almost into the road. There's no words in the thought you catch from him, but you get what he needs anyway.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to step back—" The cop's talking to Karkat, but his eyes flick over to you. Good. You want his attention, although depending on how fast he can move that might mean you're about to get shot.

"Nah." You reach back and pull your gun, leveling it at him. Never mind that your mind's listing all the reasons this is a fucking horrible idea. "Hands up, buddy. Take a step back."

Don't shoot him, Dave.

The fucking safety's still on, man—nobody's getting shot here. Well, unless you fuck up. Then you're probably going to get shot. "Get your gun. Slow, 'cause if you point that fucker at me you're definitely going to the hospital." Bluff. The cop still does as you tell him, though, keeping his hand on the outside of the trigger guard and his eyes locked on yours. "Check the safety and throw it across the highway."

Once he's done that, you risk looking over at Karkat. If the cop jumps you now, you can probably take him. "Karkat?"

He's crouching next to the car, yanking at the door. Even from here you can tell that it's jammed, but you're not going to bet against his ability to get it open. Metal's already bending and warping further; the tradeoff is that he's even more obviously demon than he was before. Fuck.

"Go sit by your car," you tell the cop, lowering your gun. "Hell, sit in it for all I care. Call for backup if you want, just leave us alone for a couple fucking minutes."

"There's two kids in there," he says, and you barely manage to cover up the fact that that bit of information makes you want to freeze up and not listen to anything else.

"He'll get them out." And you jerk your head at Karkat, who's just jerked the car door not just open but completely off, dropping it on the floor and leaning into the interior.

"There's an ambulance on his way, you should wait for people who know what they're doing—"

"You know what? Fuck off. Have a little fucking faith and cooperate. Or don't. I don't give a shit." And you shove the gun back into the waistband of your jeans and turn to Karkat. What the fuck are you doing, man?

Fixing shit. Be quiet, Dave, I need to concentrate. The demon's kneeling next to the first person you saw; it's a woman, you see as you get closer, a young-ish woman with the side of her face so lacerated you can't bear to look at it. Try and calm those kids down?

"I can't talk to kids, man, c'mon," you mumble. But you still step over to the two toddlers who're sitting right where Karkat set them, the smaller one bawling and the bigger one just staring at his mom.

The bigger kid—he's maybe five years old—is the one you scoop up in your arms first. He doesn't struggle as you lift him up enough to get a look at his eyes, which is good, because you don't know enough about holding kids to be sure of not dropping him if he did. There's blood running out of his nose like the tears that his younger sibling is currently covered in, but his pupils look okay, and there's no other marks on him.

Not that that means he's okay. Even if he's not hurt, the poor guy's got to be at least a little fucked in the head right now.

You settle him on your hip and gently push his head to where he isn't looking at his mom, wincing as he decides to bury his bloody face in your chest. There goes another shirt.

The cop's still standing right where you left him; you look over at him and point at the crying kid. Thankfully, he gets the point without you having to say anything.

You make sure to stay between the cop and Karkat, though. Once the former has his hands full with wailing toddler, you look down at the latter. "How bad is she?"

"Worse than you were." His voice is still a growl, and he looks more demon than ever. You're very careful to not look at how his hands are slowly stroking across the woman's bloody throat. "Not as bad as the guy in the car."

"There's another one?"

"Yeah. Leave him. You can't help him, I can't help him, he's gone." Let the humans deal with their dead. If I don't talk her blood into staying where it belongs, there'll be two corpses when they get here instead of one. He raises one hand to shove dark red curls back from his face.

The blood shows up dark against his white skin and blends seamlessly into his hair. Your stomach lurches.

I'm going to throw up. I'm going to pass out. I'll wake up and I'll be in jail, for some fucking reason, I know there's a reason they could arrest me—

Except you can't pass out, because you're still holding a five-year-old with a bloody nose, who just saw his mom almost die. Dropping him wouldn't be fair.

Closing your eyes doesn't really help, but you do it anyway. Hugging the kid closer to your chest helps a little bit, even if it gets you started thinking about how the wet patch soaking into your shirt is blood. A kid's blood.

Jesus fuck.

"I'll be done in a minute, I swear," Karkat murmurs absently, still not looking up at you.

"You keep her alive, I'll wait as long as I gotta." If you get any dizzier, you're going to have to hand the kid off to the cop.

Thank you, he says in your head, and you feel him push at your mind just a little. For a second it hurts. Then the sick sensation fades away a bit, leaving a calm that you can tell isn't natural.

Natural or not, it lets you stand there and wait and shush the kid you're holding when he does actually start to cry. You don't think about anything.

After some length of time that you can't measure at all, Karkat sits back on his heels and wipes his hands on his already-filthy shirt. You hand off the kid to the cop and offer the demon a hand up.

Surprisingly, he takes it, and lets you pull him to his feet. You have to steady him as he staggers. "Hey. You okay?"

"We need to go." That isn't a fucking answer, but the way he leans on you might as well be. "I can't pass for human right now, we need to be gone before anyone gets here..."

"Yeah. I know, man, I know." Thank god that there's not much traffic, because you're taking most of his weight as you head back toward your truck. God, how am I going to get him over the barrier?

"I'll make it over," he mumbles, and immediately stumbles over something, almost falling despite your support. You're in the middle of the road, struggling to get him on his feet again, and you can't stop thinking about what'll happen if another car comes along.

A car door slams. A second after that the cop's on Karkat's other side, taking his arm and hauling him upright.

Karkat glances up at him for a second, then just lets his head fall forward. "Make sure she gets a transfusion."

"Can do."

That's all he says, all any of you say. The cop helps you haul Karkat over the median barrier, gets him into the truck when you can't do the lifting yourself, and shuts the door. He doesn't even look at you as you get the truck started and pull out onto the road again.

You're grateful for that.

There's absolutely no chance of you being able to zone out, though. You're too fucking worried about Karkat, who isn't moving at all. He's conscious, you think; if you glance over at him you can see a sliver of dark red under his eyelids.

When you've passed a dozen or so mile markers, you take one hand off the steering wheel and lean over to touch his shoulder. "Karkat?"

"I'm here." He only sounds half-awake, though, and although he jerks his head in your direction he doesn't raise it. "...for a little bit longer. Shit kicks my fucking ass, Dave..."

Fuck. If he's dying—

"Calm down. Gonna sleep, okay?" The demon's hand moves up and finds yours, patting you gently. "Stop somewhere 'n get food. When I wake up, I'll need it."

"Food. Okay. Anything else?"

Karkat doesn't answer for a moment. When his hand slips off yours, you look back over at him and see that his eyes are all the way shut now, his head rolled to one side.

He's out.

Despite the pure fear that shivers through you at seeing him still, with blood on his face, you don't try to wake him.

Half an hour later you pull over on the side of the road and change into a shirt that doesn't have a bloodstain on it. Your clothes don't fit Karkat, you're too fucking skinny for that, so you wrestle him out of his bloody shirt and into one of Bro's. It doesn't fit either, but on the too-large side rather than the too-small. A clean corner of your shirt and half a bottle of water takes care of the blood on his face and hands.

He stays limp through all of that, even the cold water on his face. Your fear is getting worse, even though you tell yourself that it's baseless right now.

Two more hours, and you finally admit that you're not safe to be on the road. Every car that passes you, you jerk and barely catch yourself before you pull the wheel too far over. Either you stop soon, or you're going to get both yourself and Karkat killed.

You pull into the first fast food place you see—Taco Bell—and tell the person who asks for your order that you want five of everything on the dollar menu. She makes you repeat that twice, either because your voice is so fucking shaky she can't understand it, or because she can't believe you didn't misspeak.

The why doesn't matter. By the time she tells you to go ahead and pull forward, you're a shaking, almost sobbing mess.

Thankfully, an order that large takes them a couple minutes to get together. You spend that time with your forehead pressed against the steering wheel, gripping Karkat's hand tighter than you'd dare to if he was awake and taking deep, forcedly even breaths.

The phone rings while you're waiting.

You can't bring yourself to even look at it. After a while, it stops.

Almost as soon as it does, a guy with a slightly confused expression is handing you a series of food-heavy paper bags. When you hand him the money he very visibly relaxes; you guess that he wasn't a hundred percent sure this wasn't some kind of prank.

He turns to get your change, and you're out of the parking lot before he turns around again. Fuck the change, you think.

You wince when Karkat doesn't react to that at all. It's amazingly easy to get used to the intimacy of telepathy, isn't it?

It's twenty-something more miles before you hit a rest area. Further than you really wanted to drive, but there's no way you can handle checking into one of the hotels you pass. They'd call the cops on you as soon as you walked in; shaky, obviously upset teens who can't even look someone in the eyes are at the top of the fucking list of people who trip suspicion switches. You know that, and you fucking hate yourself for not being able to turn off your physical signs of stress and anxiety.

At least you manage to keep the truck on the road and in your lane. Even when the phone rings again.

You still don't answer it, although this time you rationalise that decision with the thought that it'd be outright dangerous to talk and drive right now. Plus, it'd totally get you pulled over if you had the bad luck to have a cop pass you. This is the right decision. This isn't you being a coward.

Fuck but I'm so bad at lying to myself.

There's a very badly placed trash can at the rest area, and you come pretty damn close to hitting it. Thank god that you don't. Once you get pulled off to the side, you turn the ignition off, drop the keys in the cupholder, and lean over to put a hand on Karkat's shoulder.

"Hey, man. Karkat. Hey." Come on. Wake up. You're very careful to be gentle as you shake him. Don't hurt him. Don't fucking do that. Fuck, Karkat, please..."Karkat?"

There's absolutely no response. Yeah, he moves, but only because you move him, and the way his head rolls to first one side and then the other as you shake him makes you stop doing that.

Karkat looks dead.

You lay your hand on his chest and feel it rising and falling with his breath. He isn't dead. Don't be a dumbass.

"If he was awake he'd ask me why I just called myself a dumbass." Your voice sounds weird even at the almost-nonexistent volume you're keeping it at. Okay. No more talking to myself. When he wakes up I can talk.

He might be out for a while, though. Need to get shit set up to spend the night.

Okay. That, you can handle.

There's no way you're going to be able to lift Karkat into the back of the pickup. Getting him out of the truck at all is going to be tough, really, but you'll cross that fucking bridge when you come to it. A couple minutes of hunting through the backseat turns up exactly what you need: one stupid lil' tent that you're fairly sure hasn't even been out of its bag. Thankfully, that means that the instructions on how to set it up are in there with it, because without those you'd have a much longer and more frustrating setup ahead of you.

Even with the instructions it takes you twenty minutes, and you're almost sobbing again by the time you finish. You unroll the sleeping bags, spread them out in the tent, and go back to get Karkat.

He's heavy. He's very fucking heavy, or at least it seems to you like he is. Some of the difficulty might be due to the fact that he's not exactly helping, but still. This shit makes you feel useless as fuck. But hey, at least those feelings of inadequacy have the added effect of forcing you to grit your teeth and do what you need to do.

God, my back's gonna hurt tomorrow, you think almost ruefully as you carry the demon's limp form to the tent and lay him down in the nest of blankets.

You want to lie down next to him, curl up and stop thinking so you can stop worrying. Instead, you go back to shut the truck's door—and grab the phone, since you do need to see who the fuck keeps trying to call you. In a minute. I'll do that in a minute. Once I'm down there with him.

(Again, you're shit at lying to yourself. You're not going to check the damn phone tonight, and you know it.)

Of course, the fucking thing rings again while you're trying to figure out how to settle next to Karkat, so you don't have a choice. You wrap one arm around him, grab the phone with your other hand, and swipe to answer the incoming call. "Yo."

"Dave?" Well, its not Dirk. You recognize this voice, you really do, but all your mind's coughing up right now are simple observations instead of a name: it's feminine, she's at least concerned and maybe downright worried, she knows who you are. "Are you all right? I called Jake for a reading after you didn't answer the second time; what he came up with was worrying to say the least—

Okay, you do know exactly who this is. She stood in front of Bro when she was ten years old, arms crossed and face set in stern disapproval, and said those exact words. That his methods of hunting were worrying to say the least. (And you tried not to flinch when she said it and wondered if you'd have to step in between him and her.)

"... Rose?"

"Hmm. I'm happy you remember me, since I seem to have forgotten to introduce myself." You can imagine the quick, self-deprecating smile that flashes across her face. "Apologies. To repeat my question, are you all right?"

That's a very fucking hard question. "I'm okay. I'm fine. I'm okay." You really wish you didn't sound like you were trying to convince yourself.

"Dave, Jake told me the cards he drew for you and your companion. His interpretation was lighter than mine, but we both agreed that 'death,' 'danger,' and 'distress' were present in the spread."

Explain this shit to her. Come on. Do it.

You pull Karkat half onto your lap and switch sides with the phone, running your fingers through his hair. Smoothing out the tangles is doing you more good than it is him, probably. "There. There was an accident."

"A car accident?"

"Y-yeah."

"Gods, Dave, are you all right? How bad—"

"No, fuck, not like that. We weren't—I wasn't in the accident." You're going to freeze up, thinking about it. The fucking blood.

"I don't quite understand."

You take a deep breath and look down at Karkat, focusing on how his face looks peaceful instead of how he's not moving. He's asleep, you tell yourself. You have to do the fucking talking, you're the one who has to explain to Rose. You can have a meltdown after you do that.

"Dave?"

"I'm still here, yeah. We, uh." Breathe. Tell her. Don't tell her he's a demon, but explain what happened. "The guy with me, he saw—there was a car crash. We st—we stopped, okay, he's g-got some magic, healing shit—"

"I didn't know demons had that."

Your stomach ties itself in a terrified knot, and you open and close your mouth a couple times before you manage to say anything. "He's not a demon—"

"Karkat?"

"Yeah, but he's not—"

"Dave, it's alright. He told Dirk he was. We already know that." Rose's tone is reassuring, but all you feel is sick fear.

I'm taking him to be killed. I'm leading him straight to more hunters, hunters that aren't whatever the fuck I am, and his cover's already blown.

You can't breathe.

"Dave? Dave, are you still there?"

"No." Damn your instinctive responses.

"You said Karkat had healing magic. Did he use it? Is that what's wrong? I mean, I can't imagine why that'd make you so upset—"

"He used it, and he's fu-fucking asleep, and nothing I can do wakes him up." But then again, you're a hunter, like I should be. You'd want him to die, wouldn't you?

"Ah." There's a muffled sound that you recognise as Rose covering the mic on her phone with her hand, and maybe half a minute of even more muffled speaking. Two voices, hers and someone else's. Then, "All right. Is he breathing?"

Your arm's across his chest; you don't have to move to check the answer. "Yeah."

"That's good. Has his body cooled noticeably?"

He's still warmer than you are, so... "Not that I can t-tell." Damn your fucking stutter.

"Kanaya said you'd be able to tell, if his temperature started to drop. Unless he's clammy, that's all right." She sighs, an almost staticky noise through the speaker you have pressed against your ear. "He'll wake up, Dave. He'll be hungry when he does—"

"He told me that."

"Good; I assume that means you planned accordingly. Give him a while. Healing of any kind is an enormous expenditure of energy; it can take time to recover from, even for a demon."

Goddamnit. The reminder that she knows about Karkat's nature is like a kick to the ribs. "He's not a f-fucking demon." If only the tremor in your voice didn't point out your blatant lie.

"It'd be a pity if he really wasn't; John's quite excited to meet him."

Shit. "If he hurts Karkat I'll—" What? You'll what? Kill a hunter, kill the guy who was your best friend back when Bro let you have friends? Would you do that? Could you do that?

"Dave, please." That almost-pitying note of reassurance is back in her voice, and you have to bite down on your lip to keep back a sob. You don't deserve that shit from her. "No one wants to hurt Karkat, I promise you. If I thought there was a chance Dirk or John or Jake would be a danger to him or you, I'd fly down there and intercept you before you reached them."

"He's a demon." Fuck. That's the exact opposite of the point I should be proving."They'll kill him if they know that, Rose, they—"

"That isn't how things are, Dave." Gentle. So gentle. Like she's explaining something to a little kid, and now you are definitely and inescapably crying, even if you can almost keep it quiet. "Not for us. We don't kill demons and cryptids for no reason. If he's killed someone, perhaps—"

You can't fucking help it. You close your eyes and give up on stifling the painful, full-out sobs, because he did kill someone. You know he did. You watched him. And you can't fucking lie, you know you can't lie—if any of the hunters ask, they'll know the truth more or less immediately.

I'm going to get him killed. You shake your head and tighten your grip on him. If he doesn't die here, he will later, and it'll be my fault...

"Dave, please, talk to me, tell me what's wrong—"

Oh. Yeah. Rose is still on the line, getting further into worry by the sound of it. You switch ears with the phone again, swallow back a sob, and start talking without letting yourself think about what you're saying.

(Which is, admittedly, a stupid fucking move.)

"See, he's fu-fucking dead, then, and 'm dead too 'cause I ca—I can't let him go down without a fight."

"What?"

"He did kill someone." Your voice steadies again, maybe because you've slid down so you're lying on your back with Karkat pulled half on top of you and your arm slung across his shoulders. "Saw him do it."

There's a noticeable pause before Rose responds. When she does she sounds surprisingly calm, although there's a good chance that's deceptive. "Who, and why?"

"Bro." Deep breath. Tell her. "And because I asked him to."

Silence. You can hear your pulse beating in your ears and nothing else. Before she speaks again you count fifty heartbeats, enough that you wonder if she hung up on you.

"...I can't say I'm surprised." She still sounds calm. How the hell is she doing that? "Would you like to know something, Dave?"

"I—what?"

"The first thing I intend to do when I see your Karkat—and I do plan to see him; you're going to have to stay with Dirk long enough for me to make a trip down there—the first thing I plan to say to him is thank you. That seems horrible if you look at it without context, doesn't it? This demon killed one of my blood relatives, and I'm going to thank him for it.

"It isn't horrible, though. Or if it is, it's decidedly less horrible than the man himself was. I knew him, Dave, and so did Dirk. I'm going to guess that we didn't know the worst version of him—you may have, but he tailored his behavior to seem somewhat presentable for us—but what I knew of him was bad enough that I won't grieve him, and I will thank Karkat for killing him.

"Dave, are you still there?"

You barely manage to choke out a "Yes." That's how hard you're crying.

"The moment Karkat chose to protect and care for you, he became family, demon or no. You should know that."

"I—I d-do now." You sniffle and realize that she had to hear you do it. Fuck. "R-rose? Rose."

"Yes?"

"Thank y-you."

"I just wish Dirk had thought to clarify this matter. You shouldn't have had to be afraid for Karkat."

"Not—it's not his fault."

"I suppose that's true." She sighs again, and you know she's shaking her head with a small smile. "I'll still be scolding him as soon as this call's over."

"Be nice."

"Don't worry, I won't be too harsh. Just a reminder that most people can't read minds, is all." That sentence tenses you up for just a second, but then you remind yourself that there's no way she could know about the weird shit you and Karkat have. "Would you like to talk for a while longer, or would you prefer to be alone with Karkat?"

"Uh. I can't talk, Rose, not right now, I'm sorry—"

"Dave, it's all right. I'll call sometime tomorrow. Love you."

"Love you too." You say it without hesitation this time.

A moment later the phone beeps, and she's gone.

You set the phone down out of harms way and wrap your arms around Karkat, pulling him closer. He's still limp and unresponsive—and you really hate that—but Rose said he'd be okay. She said he'd wake up.

This'll be okay.

You curl up close to him and close your eyes.

Even as worried as you are, it's easy to fall asleep this time.

#demon eyes

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faequeen40 · 7 years

Text

Brain Freeze

Next of the Song Prompts! @ yoyo-dodo

Hope you enjoy!

The chill of the healing pod never seemed to really leave his bones after a long enough stint and Lance hated the situation. The cryo always made him feel weak and achy, joints stiff and complaining with even the slightest motion.

He had no idea how Coran had all but pounced out of his after ten thousand years inside one. Just being it for a few days made him unwilling to do much more than walk.

That wasn’t even to mention the haze it left in his head for a while afterward. He wanted nothing more than to sit and stare at the walls, brain struggling to thaw and process the world.

His cryo brain thoughts always seemed to throw him for a loop.

Like now, for instance.

Here he was, minding his own business, sitting in the corner of the training deck like a good Paladin. The idea of doing anything more than observing had made his limbs feel like lead and the others had nodded in understanding.

Cryo was hard on all of them.

But anyway, minding his own business, trying to watch and keep up with the general flow of everything going on. And then his cryo brain decides that watching Keith in particular seemed like the better idea.

Not that he can entirely disagree. Keith being his eternal rival and whatnot. Gotta keep up on what he’s doing.

It sucked a bit to see how well everyone was handling themselves without them, Keith especially. Sure, he was more of a ranged fighter but he thought that they might have struggled a bit without his backup.

Was he really such a fifth wheel? (Seventh if you counted Allura and Coran…)

He pulled out of self-deprecating thoughts with a grimace as the gladiator managed to get one over on Hunk, the resounding thwack against the meat of Hunk’s shoulder making even Shiro wince.

“End simulation!” Shiro called, the Yellow and Green Paladins visibly sagging in relief at his pronouncement.

Only Keith seemed put off by it. “We were still in the middle of the level!”

“We’ve been training for a while now, Keith.” Shiro explained, tone firm, “It’s important to take a break. Plus, we’re not at peak efficiency right now. Lance still has a few hours before the cryo really wears off.”

Keith mumbled something under his breath that made Shiro frown deeply and Lance watched almost idly, the cryo funk still numbing his brain in the weirdest ways.

Ways that really liked to point out how nice Keith’s hair looked after he was training for a while, all tousled and mussed out of his original style.

And how nice the shape of his body was from the back, muscles moving in supple rolls under that black t-shirt. He wondered what they’d feel like under his hands, what they’d look like uncovered…

What.

What the fuck.

He sat up as abruptly as he dared, a sharp frown pulling at his mouth just as Hunk and Pidge plopped down on either side of him.

“Has your brain come back from freeze land yet?” Pidge grinned, “Well, as much as it really can, considering…”

“I think I want to bone Keith.” He blurted, the words making Hunk spit water beside him.

What the fuck.

“I did not mean to say that.” He rescinded quickly, his voice quickly lost to Hunk’s sputtering and Pidge’s incredulous laughter.

“About time you figured that out.” She chuckled, putting her hand over her mouth when Shiro looked over curiously, Keith copying the expression as he crossed his arms over his chest, “The sexual tension between the two of you has been killing me. Rivalry my ass.”

“Language.” Shiro called, turning back to where he had been conversing with Keith.

A Keith that kept glancing over and catching Lance’s eye. He looked perturbed and a bit worried, the expression somewhat foreign on his face. Lance’s addled brain wanted nothing more than to go over and curl around him until that frown disappeared from his face and that unsettled look left his eyes.

His very pretty blue violet eyes. They almost sparkled in the light from the training deck and Lance turned his head to the side to see them better.

…Zero to one hundred real quick there, cryo brain.

“Funny thing is about the whole ‘cryo brain’ thing.” Pidge baited, leaning back against the wall smugly while Hunk smacked against his chest, one eye screwed up as he recovered from almost taking water into his lungs, “Not really a different brain wave. Your conscious brain isn’t really awake now so all your subconscious thoughts and feelings are free to run wild. Which means, you have a thing for Keith.”

“Do not.”

“You are literally staring at him like sad puppy right now. Like I almost want to hug you.”

“Don’t have a thing for Keith.”

“Denial is a river in Egypt, Lance.”

Lance huffed a breath and tore his gaze away from an increasingly concerned Keith to glare at Pidge. “I’m not in denial.” He sniffed, “I’m just in love with the shape of him.”

“You know you said that out loud right?”

Lance could feel his face flushing, embarrassment finally starting to hit him in full force. “Oh quiznack, what? Why were you letting me talk? Why even let me in here?”

Damn cryo brain.

“There he is.” Pidge sighed, “Seriously, dude. Please do something about yourself. Every time you come out of cryo, I can almost smell the pining.”

“Pidge, what the French? Seriously.” Hunk coughed, “Could you have waited to start interrogating him until I finished drinking my water?”

“Did you die?”

“No?”

“Then it’s okay.” Pidge nodded, “And honestly, I want them to stop doing this dancing around each other thing. I’m getting dizzy watching them go in circles.”

“Them?” Lance frowned, looking to where Keith was all but ignoring Shiro to continue staring at them, “What are you talking about?”

“I may actually strangle you.” Pidge breathed, “Just think about it.”

Pidge climbed to her feet with a huff, Hunk following after her, a grimace on his face. “Are you okay?” Lance reached out, catching Hunk’s arm clumsily.

“All good, Lance.” Hunk smiled, “Just focus on getting better. You get blown up way more than is probably healthy.”

“Blown up?”

Hunk frowned at him and turned fully, looking Lance over with a careful eye. “Yeah, buddy. You jumped in front of Keith on our last mission. He wasn’t paying attention and set off a mine. You got him out of the way but took most of the brunt yourself.” Hunk explained, “You don’t remember?”

Lance searched his memories, doing his best to push past the cryo funk and apparently the residual fogginess of getting caught in an explosion once more. He remembered landing on the planet they’d received a signal from but after that it was a blur of color and fear.

He’d been so unbelievably scared.

But what for? Keith?

In the light of his currently abating cryo brain, he could see it. Mullet brain stepping on something that he probably shouldn’t have and the bomb igniting before anyone could move.

Except Lance, of course. Because Lance was always watching.

He didn’t want anything to happen to Keith.

So he’d moved. Moved without thinking really. He’d like to say that he knew Keith was more valuable in a fight than him but…he didn’t want the Red Paladin to be hurt.

“Was he okay?”

“Was he…Lance, you almost died.” Hunk grimaced, “If Keith’s Lion wasn’t as fast as she is, we might not have made it back in time to get you into a pod.”

“That definitely explains why he keeps looking over here like I’m going to keel over.” Lance observed dryly, his stomach dropping at the thought of worrying the others, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, bro. I get it. Just stop trying to kill yourself by being a hero.” Hunk said tightly, blinking away at the sheen over his eyes, “We’d be really messed up without you.”

Tightness gripped at Lance’s throat and he nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

He must have missed a lot while he was laid up in the cryo chamber. Lance hadn’t really thought of himself as irreplaceable on the team, not really since the beginning but with the way everyone was acting…

Cryo brain or not, it felt good. It felt good to be wanted and appreciated. Shiro had acknowledged that they weren’t at full capacity without him. Pidge had almost wanted to hug him, which was phenomenal in Lance’s book.

And Keith…Keith was worried about him.

Maybe his cryo brain was on to something. Maybe he did feel something a bit, well, more for his rival.

Something that rivalry didn’t really cover. Something a little beyond that.

Hunk padded off to where Pidge had inserted herself into the conversation between Keith and Shiro, the hum of voices providing a soft background to Lance’s dawning revelation.

If it were possible, he might have to thank his cryo brain.

Which honestly wasn’t the weirdest thought he’d had today.

Lance liked Keith.

His thoughts ran a bit lukewarm at that thought. More than like?

Probably. He did jump in front of a bomb for him.

A snort escaped him and the remaining Paladins turned back to him with relieved smiles. “Yeah, I think he’ll be okay.” Pidge hummed, “Anyway, come on, Shiro. Leave things to fall how they may.”

Lance could see Keith frown deeply at the other Paladins, eyebrows furrowed hard. “What are you talking about? He’s over there laughing to himself. Am I the only one worried about that?”

“You should go check on him if you’re so worried.” Shiro suggested, exchanging a look with Pidge that Lance would definitely associate with trouble if his mind wasn’t still struggling with cryo brain.

The Red Paladin could only huff and stomp over to where Lance grinned to himself, a warm feeling fizzling in his previously cold chest.

Love. That sounded nice.

“Oi. What are you laughing at over here?” Keith huffed, standing in front of Lance with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

Lance could only stare up at the object of his affection idly, brain steadily clearing. It wasn’t fair for him to be so pretty, even after working up a frankly disgusting amount of sweat fighting against the gladiator.

“Just my brain.”

“What remains of it, I guess.” Keith retorted, his voice sharp.

Lance frowned and Keith plopped down in front of him, eyes tracing over his face curiously. “I’m sorry if I worried you.” Lance said at last, turning his head to the side so he didn’t have to see Keith’s expression.

In his haze, he’d forgotten about one small detail. Lance hadn’t exactly been really friendly in the past. In fact he’d been nigh hostile.

He couldn’t expect Keith to react any differently, even if Lance wanted him to.

Silence reigned and Lance sneaked a peek back at Keith’s face only to recoil at the sheer volume of emotion crossing it. He turned back incredulously and his hands raised halfway as if to comfort him when Keith’s eyes began to tear up, the impending tears turning the color to something ethereal.

“Worried me?” Keith hissed, “Lance you almost died in my arms. I didn’t think I was going to make it. I didn’t think…Lance, don’t ever do that again.”

“I can’t promise that.”

Keith blinked in surprise, tears rolling down his cheeks before he surged forward, hands grabbing the lapels of Lance’s jacket as he searched his face, a bit of desperation in his face. “Why not? What’s so important that you can’t promise you won’t take care of yourself? Why?”

“Because I love you.” Lance blurted, once again groaning internally.

He couldn’t even blame cryo brain for that one.

The Red Paladin had frozen at his admission, eye searching his face incredulously. “You…you aren’t lying.” Keith breathed, “Lance….what the fuck.”

“That wasn’t quite the response I was expecting.”

“What did you want me to do, fall into your arms and wax poetic over your romantic overture? You just told me you’d do something like this again!” Keith growled, hands curling tightly into his jacket, “You think I want you to kill yourself for me? If you really loved me, you’d fight beside me!”

“I do!” Lance replied, a grunt pulling itself from his chest as Keith snarled, “It isn’t my fault that you don’t pay attention. Do you think I want to throw myself into danger all the time? I can’t help that I fell in love with an idiot.”

Keith only paused a moment before lurching forward, pressing his lips hotly to Lance’s. Lance reciprocated without missing a beat, hands curling around Keith’s shoulders to press against those beautiful muscles in his back, the corded feel beneath his fingers making his grin against Keith’s mouth.

The boy in his arms pulled back briefly, a grin of his own fighting to make its way onto his face. “Guess I couldn’t help falling in love with an idiot either.”

Lance leaned their foreheads together and chuckled, Keith’s grin finally winning the battle to curl across his face before he abruptly frowned. “But we will be talking about your pattern of jumping in front of bombs for people.”

“Whatever you say babe.”

Snickering behind them made Lance look up quizzically, his frown deepening when he saw Shiro handing Pidge several small coins. Pidge winked at him dramatically before turning to leave from the room.

“Don’t do anything you wouldn’t want to explain to Coran!” She called behind her, cackling at all the sputtering.

All in all it was good to be back.

Even with cryo brain.

#holyshitiwritefanfiction #voltron #klance #laith #vld #song prompts

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