#did anyone else notice the little noises he was making?? DEAD | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

uvobreakmylegs · 2 months ago

Text

Refuge

part 1 of a werewolf!Nobunaga x female!reader fic

Part 2

Warnings: blood, gore, self harm, mentions of death

Word Count: 8.2k

The pale full moon shone down upon the quiet forest, illuminating the pure white snow that lay like a blanket across the forest floor. Light from the moon made the shadows of the barren tree branches even more obvious when combined the bright surface beneath them, and the pattern they made upon the snow resembled that of gnarled arms with outstretched hands, forever reaching out with extended fingers. Any animals that lived within the vicinity were asleep, either only for the night or in hibernation, waiting for the weather to warm before they dared venture out again.

Within the sleeping forest sat a wooden cabin, an obvious and out of place interruption to the quiet landscape of the endless trees. Someone had carved out for themselves a home within the woods with the small, simple cabin in the equally small clearing. It could either be viewed as a cozy space or an invader of the natural state of the forest, but regardless, it stood there, the chimney softly carrying up the last remnants of smoke from a dying fire. Above it, the moonlight hit the man-made building in a way that made it instantly noticeable.

And in the forest, there was one that noticed it immediately.

Where almost everyone and everything was asleep within the dead quiet of the wilderness, one was awake. And when he noticed the cabin, he stalked closer, his snout sniffing the dry air as he tried to discern who or what was inside the small structure.

Not many chose to live so far away from the rest of civilization, and when they did, it was for a specific reason, some job or craft of theirs that was better suited for out in the wilderness. For what reason was this cabin here, he wondered. A quick glance showed nothing of interest; only a small, frozen over garden to one side, and a dead log on the other that had clearly been used as a way to chop firewood.

Who was in there? A family? Or perhaps a couple that intended to start one?

Regardless of who was in there, they would be easy targets. Being so far away from anyone else and being attacked in the middle of the night would make them as much, as the sudden chaos that would interrupt their sleep would catch them off guard.

But perhaps, he thought to himself, there might be just enough time for his hunt to become interesting.

Standing between two pine trees, he breathed in.

Only a single human scent could be identified.

And as he listened with sharp ears that strained to hear of the interior of the cabin, little else was to be noted other than the faintest noise of someone breathing evenly.

Only one.

The longer he stood, the more he was certain that there was only a single person with in that structure, someone who was asleep like the rest of the forest.

That revelation dampened his mood.

Someone being alone in the woods must have been some elderly person who was stuck in their ways, he thought. They wouldn't be able to move fast, and they would hardly offer up any sort of challenge should he choose to attack.

While it wasn't always what he was looking for in his hunts, the thought of it being too easy was unappealing.

It would be several miles to the only town he knew was in the area, however. He would spend several miles trekking there and back to his own little camp if he chose to head that way. If he killed the person within, he'd satiate his hunger and have a better shelter for the night, possibly the next few days.

It was far more pragmatic to attack the cabin. While there would be little sport, he could always wait for the next month if that was what he wanted.

Yet even as he told himself that, he continued to stand there, staring at the quiet cabin.

….. No.

After waiting a month for this night to return, that wasn't the way he wanted it to end. Perhaps it was his own instinct that told him that. The need to have a proper hunt.

Regardless, he made his choice as he stepped away, turning and heading towards the direction of what must have been the nearby town as he followed his nose, picking up bits and pieces of more human scents that the gentle breeze brought his way. The cabin behind him was quickly forgotten as he continued forward. Thus the cabin and the woman within were left in peace.

And not an hour after, gunshots could be heard ringing through the night, though in the safety of your home, you weren't aware of any of it as you slept through the ordeal completely.

Winter was rarely kind.

That was a harsh truth that everyone in the region had learned, as the area where you lived was always hit with heavy barrages of thickly layered snow. Icy winds would shriek through the open spaces, running past trees and buildings as it brought with it a torrent of ice that clung to whatever surface it could. The blizzards would always beat down upon the wooden doors of the homes that did their best to keep the harsh weather out, and sometimes those storms would last for several days if not longer.

All of that left everyone chilled to the bone and desperately clinging to whatever shreds of warmth they could get their hands on. As such, everyone would ensure that their fireplaces or their wood burning stoves were in proper order. Nothing would grow during this time either, so if one wanted to survive, having ample food stored away was required. That could be a difficult task depending on how many mouths one had to feed.

Though for you it was a bit easier as you only needed to worry about yourself.

You lived several miles away from the nearby town of Willsden, and the area of the woods where your cabin stood allowed for enough extra space for you to grow your own crops. The summer and autumn months were spent growing your own food in the little garden, harvesting the vegetables when they were ready and storing them away. And for the food that you couldn't produce on your own, you would buy or bartering for whatever it was that you needed. All you needed was enough in your storage that would last you until spring came, and then the process would repeat itself.

Though the winters weren't always the same; sometimes the snow would thaw later than anticipated and that would cause you issues as you scrambled to find a way to provide for yourself, but overall you managed to do fine. The fact that you were surviving on your own for so long was proof enough of that. Even if it was difficult, you were happy with what you had and what you were able to accomplish.

As you stepped out from the warm confines of the cabin and into the harsh cold, you shuddered as a chill instantly set into you. The winters were far too cold and you wished you could simply stay beneath the covers where it was far more cozy.

But with the work that needed to be done, that simply wasn't an option.

The empty basket on your back shifted as you closed the door behind you, though you quickly readjusted it as you turned towards the forest that surrounded your home. Today's chore would be tiring: you needed to collect wood that could be chopped up and be used as fuel for your fireplace. It was simple enough to say that, but all parts of that process would be obnoxious, from finding and putting what you found into the basket, to carting it all back to your home and then chopping it up so it would be fit for use.

Obnoxious, but you needed your fireplace to remain lit so you could survive the winter.

Though as you looked up to the sky, you noted that the weather didn't look promising. Whereas the day prior had been rather clear, now the skies were dark and clouded, and there was something in the air that felt strange.

If you were to guess, a blizzard was likely going to hit the area, and soon.

You sighed to yourself. That work would need to be completed in short period of time. The last thing you needed was needing to go out and try to chop wood while a blizzard raged around you.

Best to get to it now.

After pushing your scarf up over your nose, you adjusted the basket once more before you walked forward, your boots sinking into the snow as you did so.

But when you had traveled a few steps, you noticed something.

At the very edge of the clearing, in between a pair of large pine trees, you spotted two prominent footprints that were set deep into the snow. Curious, you walked in that direction, wanting to know what might have left those prints. Most likely it had been some sort of animal.

You felt you were correct when you reached them and saw a faint indents in the snow where the claws had at one point gouged in. And when you looked at how long the prints were, it was clear that whatever had been standing here had been large.

A bear?

The thought made you gulp; bears being awake during the winter was dangerous, as they were always angry if they were awoken before the season had ended. They'd be hungry, too, and with a lack of food to be found in the forest, they were generally driven to find the food they wanted in the homes of people like yourself. Glancing back at your cabin, you found that the prints had been facing the door directly. An image came to mind from that: one of a bear standing in the snow as it watched your home while you were blissfully unaware inside.

But you hadn't heard anything the night prior. You had slept rather soundly, and that was part of what left you being reluctant to exit your bed that morning.

If you had made more noise in your sleep, would the bear have tried to come in?

A shudder ran through you as you thought of what might have happened if it had heard you. No doubt you would be dead, torn to pieces by a wild animal.

That would have been a gruesome way to go.

Looking back down at the footprints, you noticed that there were more than just the two, and your eyes followed along as you saw that the beast had decided to turn west, walking away from your home.

That was the direction of Willsden, you noted. Worry then hit you as you hoped everyone there was alright. Ideally, you would have tried to head towards the town and see if that was the case, but when you glanced up to the sky again, it was clear that you didn't have time for that. You still needed to collect your firewood, and even if you did decide to forgo that, the journey both to and from the town would eat up too much of your time. At the absolute worst, you would get lost in the snow and freeze to death.

It was better to continue doing what you needed to, and then, once it was safe to make the trip down to Willsden, you would do so.

You set off again, telling yourself that the people of the town would be fine. The town had a lot of people living there, after all. If some lumbering beast was on the attack, they would no doubt notice quickly. They also had the manpower to defend themselves, so whatever fight might ensue likely wouldn't last long.

Before you turned your mind completely to the chore you needed to start, you glanced again at the set of tracks.

…. Strange.

Looking at the placement of the tracks, it almost seemed as if the animal had been walking on it's hind feet the whole time.

….. The thought was utterly ridiculous, you told yourself.

That was the last you thought of the prints before you settled onto your task.

The basket on your back was nearly full with the soon-to-be firewood when you noticed an unexpected flash of color within the whites and browns of the forest. Turning your head to look, your brows furrowed as you couldn't quite make it out whatever it was as a dead bush stood in your way, blocking you from seeing whatever it was clearly.

Whatever it was, though, it was red.

You shouldn't have bothered to get a closer look. You had work to do and a short time limit to do it, if the clouds above you were any indication. All you would be doing by pushing your way past the bush was wasting spare seconds that you needed to make sure you would continue to live comfortably through the winter.

Yet your curiosity managed to be stronger and you did just that, the tall branches of the bush clinging to your clothes as you made your way by, snapping a few of them in the process. The sounds echoed out into the empty forest as you did so, and it served as a sign as to how alone you were within that space.

Though, evidently, you weren't alone completely.

The thing that had caught your attention could now be seen clearly, and as you stared down at the ground just as you had earlier outside of your cabin, it was obvious that this thing that had caught your attention was blood.

It marred the pure white snow with bright red spots, spattered across the surface like ink blots on parchment. They were sporadic and spread out, and you realized then that they trailed off in a singular direction. As your eyes followed them, you found that alongside them were gouges in the snow, like something had been dragged through. Almost seeming like footprints.

You would have noted another strange parallel when compared to what you had found hours earlier had it not been for the question that interrupted you:

Were these made by a human?

The size and the way the feet had dragged seemed similar to the footprints you might leave behind in such conditions. It certainly seemed unlikely that these would have been left by an animal. So a person had been through here. Given the blood trail that followed after the messy prints in the snow, whoever it had been was wounded.

Grievously so.

Without another thought you began to walk forward, following along the trail as you kept your eyes open for any sign of the person who had left it behind.

The trail was a long one, and often meandered about as the drops of blood and the footprints in the snow were erratic, going from one end of a clearing before doubling back and continuing the opposite way. You wondered what had driven this person to walk about in such a way – had they been out of their mind from the cold? Or had they been looking for something? Perhaps some sort of shelter before they attempted to dress their wounds. It was possible they had managed to find such a place.

Though with how much blood you could see, you had a bad feeling that whoever it was would be long dead by the time you found them.

The wind was picking up, you noted. You needed to be home before the storm hit. But it felt just as important to follow and see who was at the end of the blood trail and what condition that person was in, if just so you could leave a marker to indicate where their body was so they could be retrieved at a later date.

You felt that it was the least you could do.

Time seemed to pass slowly as you followed. How far you were traveling away from your cabin worried you – it wasn't smart to rely entirely on the trail you had followed, not with a blizzard that lurked overhead and threatened to cover the path you had made for yourself with freshly fallen snow. If you didn't find the wounded person soon, you would be forced to turn back, despite knowing the guilt that would weigh on you after such an action.

Just a little longer, you told yourself. If you didn't find this person within the next few minutes, then you would abandon the search effort.

As luck would have it, it was only a few paces more before you heard something. Something that sounded like a human voice groaning out in pain. Hearing that renewed your energy, and you rushed forward along the blood trail, your neck straining as you looked around the trees, trying to spot the person you had heard.

And when you walked past a gnarled old oak tree that sat upon an incline, you saw someone.

A man.

One that you didn't recognize. Not from the town or even beyond the slice of the world you called home.

His long black hair was frayed and messy as it flowed down his back and shoulders, and the blood that was speckled in his hair matched the blood that was present in the slight bits of hair upon his face. More worryingly, there was a wound on his shoulder, a small puncture wound that could have come from a bullet if the dried blood that still managed to look bright against his pale skin told you anything. His skin was also decidedly frostbitten, and the patches of red marred his cheeks, feet and hands in particular. As for his clothing, he only had on a ragged pair of pants that looked ready to fall apart.

He looked as though he was on the verge of death. But none of that seemed to concern him.

He was fully focused on the knife he was stabbing into the side of his torso. On the left of his body, just beneath his ribs, a curtain of blood had long since fallen and dried, and it was clear that at one point, he had been walking with the open wound as the left leg of his pants was also soaked in the substance.

Fresh blood was dripping down his skin as the blade he'd forced into his flesh moved to and fro, his numb hands moving the hilt as best they could with their limited mobility. His teeth were clenched as he did so, and the look on his face was nothing short of desperate.

Why was he doing that?

Then he let out a pained noise, and with both hands, he pulled again on the hilt.

You stood still, staring at him as you tried to understand why he was doing this.

It was almost as if he was trying to dig something out of his side.

He breathed hard as he continued to pull on the hilt before eventually giving up, letting out a loud gasp of pain as he fell back against the tree trunk in frustration.

Then he noticed you.

Gray eyes widened upon the realization, and he sat still for a few moments, as though he was amazed that he had only just now realized that he wasn't alone.

You didn't get a chance to speak before his face scrunched up in pain and he doubled over.

You didn't know what his situation was, but seeing that was enough to break you out of your stupor, and you rushed over immediately, pulling the basket off of your back before you knelt down and put your hands over his, trying to get them off of the knife hilt so you could remove it from him as safely as you could.

Only you weren't allowed to do so.

Without removing his grip on the knife, he pushed himself against you to shove your hands away. With how weak he seemed to be, the amount of strength that was in that shove was surprising.

You almost didn't hear it when he spoke at first, his heavy breathing making it difficult to understand him.

“I need it out of me.”

After a moment, you responded.

“It?” you asked, confused.

He didn't reply. Or rather, he couldn't. He was groaning in pain again, and you saw the veins in his forehead pulse as he struggled with the knife.

“You're going to kill yourself,” you told him.

He wasn't listening.

He only continued to dig that knife into his side.

Once again, you watched, truly uncertain of what you should do.

Except no, you knew what you should do. You should get that knife away from him. Stop him before he hurt himself any further, so then he might have a chance of surviving.

But with how determined he was to do whatever it was he thought he was doing, you didn't think you would be successful in getting him to stop. Nor did you want to wrestle a knife away from a man who was clearly crazed from the cold and his other injuries, and especially not when he wasn't as feeble as you had first thought. He could easily injure you if you tried to do that, or worse.

So then what were you supposed to do? Wait like this? Leave him?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard a strange sound come from where he had stabbed the knife into himself. A sound that resembled metal scraping against metal.

…. Something really was stuck in him.

And since it was clear that he wasn't going anywhere until it was out of him, you had little other choice.

The warning glare he gave you when you reached your hands out to him was harsh, but his gaze softened when you placed your hands on top of his as you said “please, let me help you.”

The man didn't answer, but he turned his attention back to the knife. This time, your steady hands helped his shaking ones when he began to pull at the knife again.

It didn't feel as though this was the right thing to do. Even with the knowledge that there was something inside of him, surely the correct thing to do was to take him somewhere warm and bandage his wounds, and then once the weather was more mild you would take him to the local physician. Surely whatever it was could wait to be taken care of until after he was out of the cold.

With every passing second that you tried to help you worried that you were only hastening this man's death. That the chances he had of surviving even until the next hour were only growing more and more slim the longer you kept this up with him. With every pull you made on the knife and the blood that came out of the gash that was only increasing in size, you were forced to wonder that if this man were to die, how much of his fate would ultimately rest upon your shoulders?

Then it came out.

You had felt it through the way you held the end of the knife hilt, how it traveled through the open wound, over his exposed insides until it reached the outside. The knife came out from his side forcefully and the thing inside of him fell out. It was too small and the blood coming from the wound was too great. Whatever had fallen out of him, it vanished into the snow next to him. The only thing you could discern was that it had been silver in color.

You didn't need to tell him that something had come out; immediately after his shoulders relaxed and he let out a sigh of relief, the kind you hear when a moment of great agony had finally passed.

Now that it was out, he might listen to you.

You took that opportunity to speak, saying “we can't stay here. There's a storm-”

He fell forward.

Onto you.

You barely managed to catch him, holding him beneath his arms and keeping him from falling face first into the snow. His head rested against your shoulder and he shuddered, his eyes now closed. He was unconscious.

Though if he stayed out here in these conditions any longer, he'd be dead soon. With all the blood he'd lost, it was amazing he'd held on for as long as he did. You needed to get him to shelter as soon as possible.

But at this point, would he even make it?

Despite his chances being grim, you knew that you needed to try to get him back alive. After tearing off a bit of your skirt to wrap around the wounds on his side and shoulder, and then wrapping your own cloak around his shoulders in a desperate bid to keep him somewhat warm, you began the task of taking him home.

The way you transported him through the woods was unceremonious, to say the least. His height and weight when compared to you meant that you couldn't sling one of his arms over your shoulder and carry him that way, and even if you could, the basket on your back would have gotten in the way. So you were forced to hook your arms beneath his armpits and drag him back to your cabin while you shivered from the cold after having given up the protection your cloak offered for his sake. The basket only made the task all the more difficult with how heavy it was. It was exhausting, and a look at all of the blood still spattered on his skin had you doubting more and more that he would make it back alive. The state of his heels was also worrying, as with every pull you made over a rough tree root, they appeared more scraped and raw every time you looked at them.

All you could do was hope that the makeshift bandages you'd fashioned on the spot were enough to staunch the bleeding in the areas that were worst.

Somehow, you managed it. After a grueling forty five minutes of dragging the unconscious man and praying that he didn't die on the way there, and after the anxiety that swelled within you once the storm finally started with the snowflakes that began to rain down from the cloudy sky, you caught sight of your cabin in the distance, and that was enough to give you a burst of energy to take you the rest of the way.

It was good timing. The wind was picking up and it was only getting colder. By the time you dragged him inside and slammed the door shut, a great deal of snow had managed to get inside as well. And with how high the snow had risen when you had returned, you noted that you very well may need to dig a path out from your door.

But that wasn't important right now.

You turned your attention to the man. The exhaustion of having dragged him through the woods had you falling to your knees before you crawled over to where he lay and placing your hands on him, reaching for his mouth and the side of his neck to see if you could feel some sign of life. Either his breath or that of a pulse.

…..

It was soft, but you felt a little bit of hot hair hitting your fingers when you gently pulled his lips apart. The pulse you felt in his neck was just as faint, but it was still there.

He was still alive.

The relief you felt upon that realization was so great that you reached down to hold him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed your face against his hair.

“I'm so glad,” you murmured, “I'm so glad you're alive.”

With the way you had your face pressed against him, you didn't notice how his eyelids fluttered open.

It was only for a brief moment, and when you pulled yourself away from him, he was unconscious once more.

The first thing you had done once you had fully composed yourself was properly clean and dress his wounds for fear of infection. You had no idea how long he'd been in that state, and the knife that he'd been stabbing into his side certainly wouldn't have helped in keeping that side wound clean. Although oddly enough, when you went about cleaning and dressing those wounds, you found that they didn't seem as bad as they did when you had first discovered him. And despite your certainty that he would be suffering from frostbite, his skin now showed little sign of any such issues. Perhaps he hadn't been out there as long as you thought.

Your mind went to your second priority, which was to get him warm as he was still ice cold to the touch. Once again you were forced to drag him awkwardly, this time to your bed as you had no other place to put him. By that point your limbs were screaming over the amount of exertion you had put them through that day, and now your movements were even more slowed and pained as you dragged him across the wooden floor. Getting him onto the bed was no easy task either, as he slipped off once or twice while you were trying to place him, forcing you to grab at him as best you could to keep him from tumbling onto the floor.

Eventually you were successful in placing him on the bed, much to the relief of your sore muscles. Given that you had no clothes that would fit him, the best you could do was cover him with as many blankets as you were able to spare. The man ended up bundled on your bed, the sheets up to his neck.

After taking a step back, it didn't feel like there was anymore you could do for him.

Whether he lived through this or not all depended on his own resilience.

You then took a moment for yourself to breathe, and from that point, the rest of your day didn't last long. The amount of effort you had put in to bringing him back to your home had drained you, and you barely had the energy to make yourself something to eat before you felt the strong pull of sleep overwhelm you. You ended up settling onto the floor not far from your fireplace, a few blankets placed beneath you to protect you from the hard surface of the floor while another was pulled around you.

You spared one last glance at the man from your makeshift bed, and found that he was the same as he had been earlier.

There wasn't anything more you could do for him, you reminded yourself.

Nothing other than sincerely hope he would pull through.

The blizzard was going strong when you awoke the next morning, bursts of wind hitting the entrance of your cabin repeatedly as the winter chill tried to force its way in. But the front door stood strong, and as you sleepily added more wood into the fireplace, the warmth within the room remained as it was at a comfortable temperature.

As much as you wanted to focus on the stiffness in your back that came from sleeping on the floor and the ache in your limbs from the strain you had put them through yesterday, you turned your attention to the man you had rescued.

He was still unconscious. But as you took a few steps closer, you noted that some color had returned to his cheeks. His breathing was also more even, though the longer you stared, he showed no signs of waking up anytime soon.

But he did seem better than he had when you went to sleep, and that was a sign of good progress for his recovery.

You hoped it was, at least.

With the blizzard keeping you inside, you spent your morning doing your best to care for him. After propping his head up, you managed to get a bit of water down his throat before you checked his wounds. The gash on his side seemed better. It actually looked smaller than you remembered it being when you first saw it. And the wound on his shoulder didn't seem serious at all once you lifted up the bandages.

That seemed a bit odd, though with all of the focus on the side wound, perhaps you were incorrectly remembering how severe the one on the shoulder had been. But as long as he was getting better, that was all that mattered.

Once you had changed out the bandages, you set about cleaning him up a bit more. You wiped away the blood that was still on his skin, doing your best to apply enough force to wipe it off but not to cause further pain. You even went as far as to brush out his hair, removing the tangles and the blood that had dried and clotted in the long black strands.

He looked much better once you had finished, and you remained seated on the edge of the bed while you watched him steadily breathing in and out.

Though you were still unable to tell when he would wake up, at that moment it seemed guaranteed that he would be alright.

A relieved sigh left your lips before you got up from the bed to make yourself a meal.

The mystery man slept through the entire day, and again on the day that followed. You did your best as you looked after him, making sure he was warm and that his bandages were clean. And while you weren't sure if there was anything you could feed him in his current state, you made sure to bring cups of water to his lips to ensure he had enough fluids in his system.

That night you felt that he looked better than he had before, and you went to sleep hopeful that he would soon awaken.

Your wish was granted the next morning.

A chill in the air awoke you suddenly, pulling you out of sleep as the warmth you so desperately craved was snatched away from you. You pulled yourself up with a groan as you looked about, trying to find out what had caused you to lose your rest.

You figured it out quickly when you turned and saw that the cabin door standing wide open with a pile of snow that had tumbled inside.

Your mind became clear in an instant as you wondered who had done that.

Then your gaze went to the bed to check on your guest, only to find that it was empty.

He had gone outside? In his condition?

Now that you were fully awake, you jumped to your feet and rushed to the door, worried that he had wandered off so far that you wouldn't catch sight of him. The snow was still coming down hard, and if he wasn't in the immediate vicinity, there would be little you could do for him. You couldn't take the risk of getting lost yourself to go after him.

It was a relief when you stopped at the open doorway and saw him.

He stood out in the open, between a pair of pine trees, clothed only in the trousers you had left him in and one of the blankets you had wrapped around him. Though it didn't remain there long as it slowly dripped off his shoulders before it ended up on the snow around him. Yet he didn't seem to notice or care that he was standing half naked in the freezing cold.

Instead, he was facing your direction, staring at the cabin in what seemed to be…. Amazement? Surprise? You weren't sure; it was hard to tell what exactly that expression was with the snowflakes that were still swirling about.

Right. The snow. The snow that was fast entering through the open door of the cabin, that was showing no signs of stopping and that your injured guest was still standing in. Enough of the snow had fallen that it was deep enough to submerge up to his knees, and he had no shoes. Or socks. Or anything other than the tattered trousers that were barely holding themselves together.

Best to get him back in case the frostbite managed to get him this time.

His attention was finally turned to you when you walked out, calling to him as you did so.

“Come back inside!”

He didn't make any move, and it didn't look like he understood what you said.

Wrapping your own blanket tighter around yourself, you huffed as you approached him. Trudging out into the snow like this was the last thing you wanted, especially when you weren't dressed for the outdoors. Your nightgown did little to protect you in that moment, so you tried your best to move fast, though the large amount of snow made it difficult.

The man continued to stare at you and said nothing, even when you reached him. Even when you knelt down and pulled up the blanket from the surface. Even when you once again wrapped it around him, he still seemed out of sorts, so you decided it was best to be gentle with him.

“Come back inside,” you repeated.

That time you put one of your hands in his while the other went to his shoulder, doing your best to be encouraging as you added “please?”

After a few moments more of him staring at you with a bewildered expression, he nodded. With that, he allowed you to lead him back inside, much to your relief. The cold air was brutal against your exposed skin, and you didn't want to imagine how bad it must have been for him.

The door was slammed shut once the two of you were back within the cabin, though now without some difficulty as quite a lot of snow had gotten in by that point, much to your dismay. Oh well. It would melt soon enough, wouldn't it? Besides, right now you needed to give your full attention to your guest.

The snow that covered his hair and shoulders quickly joined the pile on the floor as you brushed it off of him as best you could before you ultimately took off the blanket you had wrapped him in and grabbed another off of the bed, repeating the action you had made outside when you placed the fresh one on his shoulders. He only continued to stare at you with that same bewildered look.

While you found the way he acted strange, you decided not to think much about it – if he had any memory of what it had been like a few days prior, perhaps he was just astonished that he was still alive.

“Here,” you said, taking hold of his arm as you prepared to lead him again, “lay back down. Your injuries are bad.”

Again, he said nothing but allowed you to do as you pleased, letting you take him back to the bed and tucking the sheets over him once he took his place on the mattress. Part of you wanted to ask what he'd been thinking by going outside, but that was a question to be saved for later, if you remembered it.

“Are you feeling alright?” you asked him. It felt best to keep your questions to ones that could be answered with a 'yes' or a 'no', at least for the time being.

He was looking about the cabin, taking everything in when you asked your question, and when he turned his attention back to you, he nodded.

That was a relief, and you smiled at him as you replied “am I right in thinking that you're hungry? You must be, after all the time you spent asleep.”

Again, he nodded.

“Alright. If you'll wait, I can make a breakfast for the two of us,” you said.

He replied with yet another nod.

Things were quiet as you cooked, and you were happy to be next to the fireplace after the brief amount of time outside. The minute or so you had spent out there had chilled you to the core, and you hated to wonder about what it had been like for him.

You glanced over to find him watching you, and you thought that perhaps now you might try to get some answers, if he had any.

“Was there a reason for why you went outside?” you asked.

His brows furrowed, and he turned his head so he was staring up at the ceiling. And then, for the first time, he spoke.

“I don't know,” he said.

“Ah. Alright then.”

Clearing your throat, you decided to push forward with your next question.

“Do you know what happened to you?” you asked.

At that, his mouth pressed into a line and he looked uncomfortable. Quickly, you added “if you aren't able to talk about it, that's fine.”

“No, no, it's not that,” he told you, “I…. Uh, I don't…. I don't remember.”

“Oh.”

What exactly had he gone through before you found him?

“It looked as though you'd been attacked,” you said, “you have bullet wounds.”

“You were behaving strangely when I found you, as well,” you added.

He shook his head.

“I don't remember,” he reiterated.

Then he turned his head towards you as he asked “where are we?”

“In my cabin?”

“Yes, but where is it?”

“Ah. We're outside Willsden. About eight miles away from there,” you explained.

“Have you been in contact with anyone from there?”

You blinked.

“No?” you responded.

“I see.”

He went back to staring at the ceiling, though you noticed movement beneath the blankets after. His hand went to his side – the one that he'd been digging the knife into, where he'd gotten that bullet out of him.

Foolishly, you only then realized why he had been asking about where the two of you were.

“I'm sorry – with the weather still being bad, it'll take some time for the roads to clear up even after the snow stops, but as soon as it does I'll fetch a doctor for you,” you told him.

For some reason, he seemed surprised when you said that, and again he stared at you for a few moments.

You wondered if you really were as strange as he seemed to perceive you to be.

When the food was finished cooking, you moved to help him sit up in the bed only to be surprised at how easily he lifted himself up without your assistance. After the way you had found him half frozen to death in the snow and then the days that had followed, you would have thought him to be weaker, yet he moved without much trouble, though the wound in his side seemed to still be giving him some trouble as you saw him wince and grab at it again. At least the shoulder wound seemed to be better.

He spoke again when you were in the middle of your meal, having paused with his own as he asked you “what's your name?”

You answered him, and asked for his in turn.

Nobunaga, he told you.

The introduction seemed to help him, as once the two of you had the other's name, he was more open with you when he spoke. He'd been traveling, he told you, going from town to town in search of work. While he had been on his way to Willsden from Doveport before he wound up where you found him in the woods. Again, he told you that he didn't remember what had happened to him, but it seemed safe enough to conclude that he had been attacked, robbed and left for dead.

Hearing that, and remembering the way he had been when you first laid eyes on him, all you could feel was immense pity for the man. What sort of people leave another person to die in such a manner? Although it was silly to ask that question as you knew the answer – the number of people in the world who had no issue cutting short the lives of others for the sake of their own greed were far too many.

“I don't suppose you have an idea as to how long you were out there,” you said.

“Since the night prior,” Nobunaga answered as he sighed.

“The night?” you asked, confused. It didn't seem likely to you that one man could have lasted that many hours outside in the cold with the way he was.

Nobunaga seemed to realize that as well, as he corrected himself with “ah, maybe I'm misremembering. I couldn't have been out that long. So it must have been the morning at the latest.”

You nodded, as that made more sense.

“I wonder why I didn't hear any gunfire,” you then said, “wherever it was where you were attacked, it couldn't have been that far from here.”

“I do remember bits and pieces where I was walking for a long while. Maybe the area where I was attacked was further away,” he suggested.

Nobunaga then added “or maybe you were in too deep a sleep.”

“Ah… I suppose.”

It felt slightly embarrassing to admit it, but that explanation would make sense. It didn't bode well for you to sleep so deeply if something was wrong, however. But regardless of that, the person or people who had attacked Nobunaga posed a threat and they would need to be taken care of.

You got his attention again as you said “as soon as the road opens up, I'll fetch a doctor for you, and I'll report the crime as well.”

“Report it?” he asked.

You nodded.

Instead of seeming relieved, he seemed wary, his eyebrows furrowing as he said “I don't see much point in doing that. Those thieves are likely long gone by now. It's best to not bother.”

“Not bother?”

That didn't seem like a normal response. Was Nobunaga ashamed that he had been attacked?

“No one will blame you for what they did,” you said.

“I'm not worried about that.”

“Then may I ask what you are worried about?”

Nobunaga paused, his mind seemingly racing to find an excuse.

Why was he trying so hard to convince you to drop it?

“I just think there's no point because,” he began, waiting half a moment before he continued with “I'm…. I'm not getting any of the things they stole back. And I don't care much about what they took, anyway. I'm also still alive, so I have the satisfaction of knowing that they failed to kill me.”

He seemed hesitant about everything he said except the last part. That seemed to be the only part that seemed genuine from what he was telling you. Though why he wanted you to stay quiet was still a mystery.

…. Maybe he was still confused after that time he'd spent in the cold.

“I think you're right about that, that we won't retrieve your items,” you agreed, “but if there are murderers running about the area, others should be warned about it. What if they attack someone else? We could help the others in the town if we tell them.”

“Ah…… Right….”

It was clear he hadn't thought of that, and he didn't have any argument to make against that point.

Nobunaga leaned back on the bed as he continued “shouldn't you be worried about yourself, though? It doesn't look like you have any way to defend against murderers.”

“I don't, but I also think we'll be fine for the time being.”

“Why?”

“There is an advantage to the weather being so poor,” you stated, “no one will be coming here while the outside is still like that.”

Nobunaga nodded slowly, though his gaze was a bit distant after you said that. Was he worrying about his attackers finding him again?

“We'll be okay,” you told him, “I'm certain of it.”

He nodded slowly again.

Shortly thereafter he said that he wanted to rest more, and you retired to read quietly beside the fireplace while he settled back into the bed.

It was almost pitch black in the room when you were suddenly awoken as an unsettling feeling washed over you, a feeling that your subconscious was able to recognize. That it was strong enough to rouse you from sleep was odd, and even more odd was the sensation that had been recognized.

It felt as though someone had been watching you.

Someone had been standing over you, watching you as they took every slight movement you made, every soft breath you took as your tightly wrapped blanket rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

Why had they watched you so intently?

Some part of your mind told you with certainty that was what had happened; even though you hadn't been awake for it, you felt certain of that fact. After taking a few moments to process those thoughts, you glanced over at the one person who could have been doing such a thing.

Though it was hard to make out in the dark, you were able to see enough of Nobunaga's form to tell that he was in bed, and it appeared that he was asleep.

Your eyes adjusted to the darkness further, and though you couldn't make out everything, you felt that he didn't look as though he had moved from the bed at all; he was still in the same position he had been in when you both had retired for the evening. It certainly didn't seem as though he had quickly returned to the bed once he realized you were awake, and you surely would have heard him if he did. Not only that, how could he have moved that fast with his injuries still being as grave as they were?

It seemed unlikely.

You looked away from him as you stretched out your arms.

You were imagining things, likely due to the poor quality of sleep that came as a result from resting on the floor. But you had no alternative to that at the moment, so it was all you could do to simply make the best of it.

Once again, you laid down on your makeshift bed while you did your best to ignore the feeling of discomfort that it brought.

Instead, your mind went to the brief conversation you and Nobunaga had before you both had gone to sleep. Right before you had settled down, he had asked you about what you had said to him when he was on the brink of death.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“When you brought me inside,” he clarified, “I think I was partially awake for that, and…. I thought I heard you say something.”

“Oh. Ah….”

You remembered the words that had tumbled out of your mouth at that time, ones that were brought out through sheer relief when you had realized that he was still alive. For whatever reason, that moment felt more embarrassing now that you knew he was somewhat conscious for it, though the source of that embarrassment was unknown.

“I… I may have said something, yes,” you answered, looking away from him.

He nodded again, his eyes going back up to the ceiling.

The next morning he was awake before you were, and the way he sat up in bed almost made it seem as though he was waiting for you to wake up.

You weren't able to get out a greeting before he spoke.

“I realized that I haven't thanked you once for saving me,” Nobunaga said, “so…. Thank you. I really mean it.”

You hadn't even thought of that until now, but his gratitude was appreciated as you smiled at him as you answered “I'm just happy I was able to help.”

Nobunaga looked away quickly as a blush formed on his cheeks.

#reader insert #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere x reader #yandere nobunaga #nobunaga x reader #yandere hxh #yandere #hxh x reader #hxh nobunaga #monster au

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jujutsukgojo · 30 days ago

Text

The Baby Project Chapter 3

Izuku Midoriya x reader

chapter one, chapter two

Summary: Izuku declares, “I’m right here.” Like it’s the most natural thing to him. tw: Dead beats, pee, angst and fluff, idk what else. Izuku and mc will be fast paced but it's alright.

You jolt awake by a baby’s scream. You gasp and look around for the source of the vicious noise in the dark. You pat around for your phone, totally believing it’s some demonic alarm clock. A sniffle in the dark knocks that theory out. Immediately, you take your eye mask off and go to his bassinet. “What’s wrong, little ma-”

He’s bigger and busting out of his onesie. You unbuckle it and take it off as carefully as you can. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

He has red marks on his legs and arms from the tightness of the clothing. You rub them in an attempt to soothe him then fit him into a new diaper. It’s good luck that you accidentally got the wrong size that one time. “Poor baby,”

You kiss his head, talking low and calmly. “I know, it’s rough growing up. It’s even tougher when you don’t understand it.”

He starts to calm down and is able to no longer have his head totally supported. It raises a little then settles back down as he is close to your chest. “Are you okay, now? You only got a diapy on!” You say in a light tone, making him huff. You pepper him with kisses and set him back down. Since he’s bigger, you check him and see that it still says four months.

“You ate your Wheaties or something?” Something isn’t right. He’s bigger than the average four month old yet shows nothing in his age. He can even hold his head up completely.

You kiss his forehead and see him look up at him with what you could swear is love. His face is still chubby and his eyes still sparkle. If it weren’t for the school insisting on it, you’d swear there is a soul behind those eyes. You go to your desk and flip the flower lamp on. Underneath it is the paper part of the project. It asks questions of each month, the costs, and experiences. How far did the age jump and when. That part’s redundant since Hatsume is tracking the exact time and ages. Then again, this entire project is dumb so why wouldn’t there be dumb questions?

“I better write all of this down.” So, you do. You finally start to do that part of the assignment. Write your experience on the paper and his milestones. It’s early in the morning now and Noa is quick to rest again, funnily enough. You decide to leave out Kaibara’s lack of involvement since they already know that. You still can’t believe you told the teachers. You can’t believe he got aggressive with you because he didn’t like pink on his son. Now, it’s like a waiting game to see Kaibara’s next move. It’s the suspense and the end result. Facing him head on is of course nerve wracking, but the ending is scary.

The fluffy pen grazes across the paper effortlessly as you reminisce. This project started just recently, and you’ve already learned so much about babies and life. You just wish you didn’t have to learn it this way. You wish the heroes would actually care about anyone but themselves. Then again, they have let too many people slip through the cracks to erase that possibility.

You fall asleep at your desk. Drool slides out your mouth and onto the surface and part of the paper. Noa is quiet, resting peacefully in Yona’s gifted bed. You had a dreamless sleep once again. The birds tweet as the sun pokes through your curtains. You turn your head and sigh. The door knocks hurriedly, waking you up fully. You wipe the drool from your mouth and walk to the door with shaky legs. “What?” Your voice is thick with sleep and sand in your eyes.

“Where were you?” Riko stands in front of you. You blink a couple of times to register it. “You’re back!”

“Yeah, and you weren’t. Where were you?”

You notice her uniform. “What? What time is it?”

“Noon! Snipe is looking for you and wanted me to get you.” Your alarm didn’t go off. Noa would have let you know with a wail if something woke him up. “M-my alarm-” you rush to your bedside and see the device blank.

It was set, you’re sure of it. Your eyes look around and see some things have moved. Did you really have a dreamless sleep? You look at Noa and wonder if quirks can affect them since they’re so life like.

“Oh shit…okay, I’ll get ready. Tell him I’m coming.” You look around dazed then grab your bathing items. When you go to grab Noa, Riko stops you. “Can I do it?”

You’d prefer her to handle Snipe but you’re not going to argue. “Sure. I’ll just be a moment, I promise.” You wondered why she would want to given what happened. After your extremely fast shower, you brush your teeth and switch rooms with Riko. Noa babbles and blows bubbles at you. He seems to be a friendly baby. First, he’s fond of Izuku then Riko.

You do the bare minimum with your appearance which bothers the shit out of you, but you are way out of time. “Can’t believe it. I can’t believe I missed school like this.”

“There are plenty more classes to go, miss drama.” She looks confused at the stash of diapers. “What’s this?”

“Special Hatsume diapers. He’s allergic to normal ones,” She raises a brow. You nod. “I know, right? So far, it’s been a pain in the ass to afford.”

She holds up different shirts to him. “Which one, eh? Blue or black?” She pokes his toes, making him laugh. “Black? You sure?”

Putting the finishing touches on yourself, you watch her and Noa. She's a natural and seems to be having fun with him. “You sure you don’t want to do this? I know what that thing did but…I’m sure Snipe will understand.” You don’t blame her for quitting at all. Whatever the grape bastard did, it was enough to traumatize Riko and deserve his fate with the school. Not to mention his hero career.

“No. He completely ruined it for me. I’ll wait for the real thing.” She lifts Noa up and shows you her work. You smile at them. “Dazzling, simply dazzling.”

“I know, I know.” Noa reaches for her turquoise hair. “You sure? You’re great at this, Riko. I don’t think it’s too late.”

She shakes her head. “No. I’ll wait,” Noa finally reaches his goal of pulling her hair. “The things he was doing were too much. I’ll settle for being an aunt right now.”

“I understand. And,” You walk up to her. “I’m sorry I didn’t see the signs sooner.” At the time, the assignment had just started. In a short span, the grape had hurt her. During class she was quiet when her phone went off. There were times she would suck in her lips and look straight ahead. You thought it was because she was afraid of getting in trouble. Now that this all came out, it was clear that she was trying not to cry. That alone makes you want to beat the shit out of the grape, his friends, and his teacher. He should have been gone a long time ago. Why did they wait until it was at the expense of Riko?

You pack Noa’s things in the diaper bag and head out the door after Riko. “It’s no problem, peach. Thanks for not asking for details.” You pause and look back at her. Suddenly, a pretty face comes to mind.

“Ema?”

“Of course, the little demon.” You let out a short laugh. “You love her anyway.”

As the two of you make your way to class, you walk slower and ask, “I don’t need to know the details but…if you need counseli-”

“Counseling?”

“Yes, counseling. Mental health is extremely important. Even if you think it’s nothing or that your pain isn’t serious, take the time and care for yourself. If you need a professional, it’s no one’s business but your own.”

She sucks in her lips. “I’ll think about it.”

Inside the school, you pass students to head to your floor. On the way, Riko is lighthearted, happy and has a pep to her step while holding Noa. Now that he's more developed, he has more expressions. Not a single one has been sad except for the Kaibara incident.

The minute you walk in class with Noa in Riko’s arms still, Snipe tries to calm your classmates down. You move your hands to get them to settle down. “I know, I know. Leave your offerings on the table.”

Benio smirks. “I'm liable to kiss you, puppy.” You sigh. “After class, Benny. When I can get handsy.”

Snipe growls for you to be quiet and points to your seat. The air is lighter in the class. The stress and frustration are obviously still here, but the load is lifting now that you spoke up about their partners’ behavior.

You didn’t expect this. You can see some of your classmates without their babies. The heroes must have them to prove something. All except for Kirishima who has been great from the start.

Benio still has his baby girl. She sits on the side of him, content. She mainly looks like him already, only having Yaoyorzoru's eyes. You smile at how she's looking at him. Starry eyes and all. For a robotic baby, they sure are life-like. If she were real, she’d definitely be a daddy’s girl.

Looking around and seeing how much the babies have grown makes you proud. A lot of them are doing it on their own and they've gotten pretty far.

There's a knock on the door. It opens and Kirishima steps in, quietly asking for Ema. He whispers, “We have training right now and it's not safe. I also have my internship later.”

“It's okay. Talk to you later?” Kirishima nods and apologizes for the interruption. He kisses the baby goodbye and waves at everyone. Everyone says goodbye in unison.

“Why couldn't I have that? Instead, I got stuck with Kaminari.” Jule puts his hand on his hips. You can't help but laugh yet at the same time, remember how much it hurts him that he doesn't have that.

________________________

“So, U.A. stepped up and told the hero students about themselves?” Riko asks then shoves some food in her mouth. You swallow some of your water. “Yep. Apparently, there were some that were very involved, so they didn’t get docked points. Everyone else got punished.”

“Yeah, thankfully they’re stepping up!” Ema gives a slight bounce. Kirishima has been a great partner and was even commended for such.

Benio scoffs. “Whatever.” He hasn't touched his food, and that plate is looking real tempting. You stretch out your fork to grab some of the beef from his lunch. He smacks your hand. You grumble. “Probably cold and nasty anyway…just like you.”

And here you were having dirty thoughts about him. You side eye your friend and what could have been. You shake your head. "We could've had it all." Riding into the sunset on a tropical island or something. With pina coladas...getting caught in the rain, we're not much into health food, we are into champagne-

"Will you stop?" They don't appreciate you in any way, shape or hum of a 70s song. One day they'll miss you.

He goes silent and takes a deep breath. “She only has her for like two seconds to show her off then hands her back to me even if she's not doing anything!”

The table remains silent, intent on listening. “It’s just frustrating. Whenever we have to do that report-”

“Report?” You perk up and a heavy worry starts to settle in. It can’t be that report. There’s no way that your progress report needs to be turned in. You thought it would be like a journal, something to turn in at the end. “Our progress papers are supposed to be turned in.”

“Son of a bit-”

Ema sighs. “He was talking! I’ll help you after, (Y/n). Jeez. Continue Benio.”

“Whenever we do the report, she comes up, looks at my notes, corrects my grammar and turns it in. She’s literally copying my homework.”

You wince. Hearing his story, it makes you even more nervous. You’ve written some of the progress down but not everything and haven’t turned anything in. Not only that, but it is a partnered report.

“Her attitude changed a little but I’m still mad about it. All this time and it took for her to get points deducted for her to notice how wrong she is? Even now, where is she?”

His frustration isn’t unwarranted. Look at how they’ve been acting. And it is irritating that it took this to have them wake up.

Riko finishes her plate. “I'll help out. Sometimes, though.”

Benio looks up at her with a smile on his face. He nods and mutters a thanks. Noa starts to get fussy again. “Baby boy, speak in a language I can understand, please.”

You fed him with what formula you had left, changed him, all of it. Speaking of formula…

“I'm out of milk and I need more. I'll talk to you guys later! And Benny,” You kiss his cheek, much to his shock. “If you want, I’ll beat her ass.”

“Ha, yeah. While you’re at it, get a gummy from Recovery Girl after she floors you.”

Up the stairs you feel a familiar presence. Izuku walks behind you with his books in his hand. He's looking down at the steps, not realizing you're there until he is two steps behind you.

He calls your name surprised. “Is that Noa? He's gotten so big!” He strolls up to you and coos at Noa. “May I?”

You hand Noa over to him and trade for his books. “You don't have to. I can do it.”

“You're carrying my grade. I'm not risking it.” The two of you walk to the support course. You suck on your teeth and head inside, hoping Mei Hatsume doesn't get on your fucking nerves. She's not a bad person, she's just a little much.

“Mei? Mei!” You call out. She rounds the corner with a big grin. “Midoriya!”

“Oh hell no, Mei. Me first. Don't touch him.” She whines and groans. “Why not! I haven't seen him in forever!”

“No. You haven't tested on him in forever. I need help first. Touch him later.”

“Do I get a say?” Izuku’s voice is quiet. “No.” You and Mei say in unison. She asks what you need, already working on another one of her “babies”.

“Formula, please.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” She goes to a small desk with a desktop computer. There are only papers next to it, no doohickeys or thingamabobs. It's unusual for her and her chaotic nature.

“I need to speed you up.”

“For what?” Mei continues to click the mouse then types on the keyboard. She answers, “Yeah, the care levels are looking good so we're moving it along.”

He's at four months already. Suddenly, in Izuku’s arms, Noa grows again. Izuku’s face is bright. “This is-!”

“My beautifully amazing baby!” Mei practically jumps. You stare in shock at how he's grown. “Did he grow in age, yet?”

“How do I check?” Izuku looks all around Noa. His large hand cradles his head gently as he searches.

“Izuku, I don't think you have to support his head anymore.” Izuku slightly lifts Noa up as if he wanted you to give him another look. “You sure? I mean, he’s so small.” Izuku tilts his head and his eyebrows drawn.

“Check his tummy!” Mei calls out as she starts to speed walk away. You turn to her and yell, “Wait! I still need some!”

She tosses the items to you. Izuku catches it right before it hits your face. Hatsume hasn’t charged you yet.

“Um, Mei? The total?” You dig in your bag and stop when Mei says, "On me this time.”

“W-why?”

She’s quiet this time. Not whispering or anything, but calmer.

“It was brave to stand up to Kaibara and the staff. So, I’ll take this one.” She turns to leave. Noa babbles and claws Izuku’s face. His delicate fingers pull on his freckled cheek. Izuku doesn’t seem to mind at all. You give a breathy laugh and scratch your head.

“Um, check his belly. It’ll say how old he is.”

He looks to you. “Can you hold him for a second while I take my jacket off?” You raise a brow but do it nonetheless. Izuku folds his jacket and places it on the desk. “Alright, I’m ready.”

You suck in your lips and try not to smile. He’s so gentle with Noa. Izuku finally sees his belly. “Four months.”

Disappointment and confusion settle in. What did she mean by speeding it up if the screen still says four months?

“But he’s grown…” Izuku shrugs and buttons him up. “That’s no worry! The fact he’s gotten a little bigger shows that it’ll happen soon.”

------

“Are you sure you don't want me to walk you?” His voice is shy. Borderline nervous. “Yeah, Izuku. It's alright. Thank you for holding him.”

He stares at you with a shine in his eyes. A smile is on his lips then he shakes his head and says, “It's no problem! I can help anytime!” There is a flush to his freckle cheek. Is this a medical condition? “Thanks,” You stare into his emerald eyes. “Sad that you're here more than Kaibara.”

His name is bitter on your tongue. Izuku raises a brow. “Is he still mad?”

You haven't talked to him since this started. Him and the rest of the course are bitter beyond belief. What did you expect? Of course he'd be mad. You were (are) mad but it's all real. You're scared, tired, and frustrated. Everything you said needed to be told. It isn’t your fault that the rest of the hero partners got in trouble for their own failures. Now, Kaibara is ignoring you all together.

“Do you have his number by chance?” You hold onto Izuku’s jacket and hold the door open for him as the two of you leave the support course’s lab.

“No, sorry. I only have a few from class B.”

Shit. You lick your lips slowly. You want to talk to him, to let him know about the report and for him to see Noa, to at least hold him. “I need to go to class.”

You set his books and jacket down on the floor to adjust your wrap that's been hanging loosely behind you. “Do you think he's old enough to be carried on my back?”

Izuku freezes. “I-is that safe?” He hangs onto Noa, rubbing his back. You chuckle at how he seems like a nervous new mother.

“Okay, I'll just do the front then.”

“Oh, thank God.” Noa babbles some more. Noa is more vocal and that'll increase as time goes on. You have to remember to practice with him.

Noa messes with Izuku’s hair again. You study him as he moves his focus from Izuku's hair to his face. Noa tugs on the hero's cheek. Izuku is close to you, and you don’t know what to do. You can feel his body heat and one step closer his heartbeat. He doesn't notice in the slightest or just doesn't care.

“You know, even if he is one of Mei’s babies, he’s adorable.” Izuku pokes Noa’s chubby cheek.

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

The day went by fast and the next is no better. By now, you’re walking into the cafeteria after catching Snipe after class.

You walk into the cafeteria after your short talk with Snipe. You didn't know to turn in your progress report, so you said that you’d give it to him at the end of the day. Unfortunately, it’s a partnered thing. So, given what happened with Kaibara, you thought he’d give you some leniency. Nope. Mr. Snipe is clearly pissed at how you talked to him when this whole thing came out. Finally, after a few seconds of scolding, you ducked out the door and rolled your eyes. You have had enough of heroes. And to be honest, you're mad at Snipe. When this assignment is done, you won't look at him or any of the other teachers the same.

You spot your friends at their usual table and notice that Yaomomo is heading over there, and she is actually holding Kobeni. Your jaw drops. Right when you walk over, Ema calls your name.

“Sit with us!” You find her with Kirishima and his crew, including Izuku who is animatedly talking to Kirishima. “I'm good.”

“Please!” You roll your eyes and say, “Fine. But I got to talk to you know who.”

“Oh…”

You search around and finally find him talking with Kendo who waved him goodbye. You head over to Kaibara and bite your lips nervously. This is the first time you’ve talked to him since you snitched. His eyes flicker to you and his face settles into a quick frown then changes his expression. It's amazing how fast he can do that.

“Kaibara, can we talk?” You want your voice to sound a lot stronger than what came out.

“Sure.” He guides you out of the large, student filled room. You notice the glances and maybe even venomous looks given. Whether it’s to you or Kaibara, they’re there. You wouldn’t be surprised if it is you that they hate. However, a lot of them aren’t hero students. So, why would anyone from the other courses have a grudge against you?

The two of you go out of the door and turn down the short hallway. At the end is another glass door that leads to the courtyard of the school, with luscious green grass and not a speck of litter in sight. He doesn’t hold the door open for you and Noa and you don’t expect him to. It’s quiet for a moment until he opens his mouth. “Are you having fun?”

“What?” There’s a heavy ball in your gut. He cocks his head to the right. “You must be. Everyone’s patting your back while my reputation gets shit on. I mean, you have to be pretty proud of yourself.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m not proud-”

“Yet you did it anyway? Did you forget that actions have consequences?”

You’re trying to hold your anger in since Noa is present. “Getting scolded was yours. What you did was deplorable, and you know it.”

He starts to laugh. You look around for a mirror to see if he's watching how much of a clown he is because this isn't funny.

“What’s so funny?”

“Ha, ha! Nothing, I just didn't expect a waitress to know that word." Your mouth drops. “First of all, customer service workers deserve respect, including me. So, let’s put that down. Second, now I know why you are so triflingly ugly. This fucking attitude. Third, the reason your reputation is getting shit on is because you deserve it.”

He rubs his face. “This is based on real life, right? Our future? My future?”

“Duh.”

“Then, you would ruin a future because of a disagreement?”

“Futu- disagreement? What the hell are you talking about? Explain.” God, if Noa was not in your arms...

“Everyone’s been giving me shit because of you. Including my mentor. By the way, he’s reconsidering my internship, so thanks for that. Because of your dramatics-”

“Un-explain.” He stops his rant to look at you. “You jeopardized our grade and are still doing it with you not participating! This is on you, not me.”

“You act like he’s real. Like he’s an actual human being who has to be watched all of the time. I left him alone and he was fine.”

Your nose flares as your anger begins to boil over. Suddenly, you stop when his words set in. “When you took care of him? He was alone?”

He claps his hands slowly. “Amazing how you remember that now but not when you were ruining m-”

“You left him alone?” You yell. Noa hasn't made a sound.

Kaibara steps closer. “He isn’t real. This is just a grade, and you decided it was best to ruin my future for a grade. And it isn’t even a major one.”

He left him alone. Is that why he’s stuck at four months old? Did Kaibara do something? He stops and gives a fake sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry I hurt you and scared Noa, truly. But what you did was worse. How is that fair?”

And he's calling you dramatic?

You take a deep breath and try to get your mind back to the original topic, so you don’t really go off. “Now who’s being dramatic? You got in trouble. Your license hasn’t been taken away, dumbass.”

You stop tapping your foot when Noa caresses your face. “We have those reports due at the end of every month. I have the majority of mine written down, so I’d like for us to get together and do them but in order for that to happen, we need to work together.”

He doesn’t say anything for a second. Finally, he gives you that smile again. “I want what’s best for Noa.”

“Me too. So, you with me?” You’re stiff when your gut instinct senses something's wrong. He’s hiding something. Even though you are dealing with him, you think of the original cause. All this is because of Endeavor and his family. Now here you are dealing with this jackass and his fake smile. Because of the Todoroki's you now have to look at this illegal circus in front of you.

You want to finish this project and get a good grade, not have to deal with this delinquent.

“If it’s going to clean my reputation, that’s just a bonus. My kid matters, you know? How about this weekend?”

“I can’t this weekend. How about Monday after school? We can hang out and work on this.” You’re biting the inside of your cheek, hoping he won’t realize that you work this weekend. Yeah, you can move stuff around for him. But you don’t want to deal with him right now.

“Sure. Monday.”

You promised Snipe you'd hand it in today, but he'll just have to settle for it to be on Monday. That's bothersome but right now, you want to take fifty showers.

Looking at Sen's passive face, you notice that there is a small hopeful wish inside you. A little flame that goes way back. Now, you think you might be giving it to your son with this one question that was asked once years ago.

“Do you want to hold him?”

Kaibara rolls his eyes. “I’ll see him Monday, won’t I?”

You leave and head back into the cafeteria without an appetite.

-----

Inside, you sit quietly while the others talk. Ema was curious about your behavior but didn't question it. She will most likely bombard you with questions later. Right now, you sit in silence as the friends talk over each other about God knows what. The noise is almost enough to snap you out of your daze.

That encounter with Kaibara just doesn’t sit right with you. There’s something lurking underneath that you can’t put your finger on exactly. It’s definitely shady, though. Suddenly, a shrill cry snaps you out of your daze.

“Why are you crying, cherub?” You prop him up. “Support his head!” Izuku brings his hand to the back of Noa’s head. You almost forgot that Izuku was sitting next to you. “He’s fine. I’m telling you, Mei just messed up. He has to be more than four months old, he doesn’t need his head propped up. Besides, he’s done it before.”

“Still, you need to-wait, you let him do that? ”

“He’s fine-” His eye twitches before you can get your full answer out.

“No, give ‘im. You’re making me worry!” Izuku literally grabs Noa and before he can support your baby’s head, you tease, “See, you aren’t even holding it.”

“Ah!”

Izuku scrambles to hold him. Noa laughs and kicks his feet. Kirishima and the rest of the table follow. It’s a blessing that he’s a happy baby. There are dolls that have colic or are just plain onery. Also known as, Mira, Sakura and Bakugou's baby girl.

“Midoriya, please. He’s fine. A lot of babies around that age can hold them up.”

“You sure? He’s so small…” Izuku makes faces at the baby who sticks his tongue out, mimicking Izuku. Ema looks at you with a grin you can’t place. “You look good with Noa, doesn’t he?”

Kirishima looks at her for a second. “Yeah! Midoriya, aren’t you having fun with (Y/n), sorry, I meant Noa.”

“I am!” Izuku focuses back on Noa. Then, Noa begins to cry in Izuku’s hold. You pick up Izuku’s chopsticks and gather some rice from his katsudon. “He’s too young!”

“Let’s just try it.” You place a little rice in Noa’s mouth. Since he is getting bigger, it doesn't hurt to try solids, right?

Izuku’s about to scold you again until Noa chirps happily. He kicks his little legs and giggles. Izuku’s thick finger presses against Noa’s chin to encourage Noa to open his mouth. "Chew, Noa!"

"Izuku, I swear he's fine." You give Noa a little bit of the egg in the katsudon. Flavorful dishes like this aren't generally recommended at his age, but a little won't hurt a robot baby, right? Noa opens his mouth wide for more food much to your amazement. Izuku decides to join in on the fun and hand feed him some more white rice. "I guess I should be feeding you both now, huh?"

"Slowly, and not all the time-"

"Izuku, I know!" You groan. He chuckles nervously, slightly embarrassed. You quickly take out a notepad and write this down. "For the report." You say when you notice Izuku's eyes on you. "Do you want help?"

"You're doing enough, that's fine." Izuku cautiously lifts his hand away from Noa's neck. You roll your eyes and huff. He's acting more like a first time mom than you are! Izuku then grabs his phone and keeps it on Noa. "Maybe a recording will help? This is a milestone, right?"

You stop writing and laugh. Going along with Izuku's weird and probably useless plan, you feed Noa and abandon your note taking. Ema's chin is on her hands. "Aw..."

Noa sees the plate of rice next to him and grabs a handful. It's cute how his chubby hands grab the rice, turning it into mush. He squeals in delight at the flavor. Izuku captures every second of Noa's newest milestone. Suddenly, ruining the adorable scene, a horrendous smell interrupts it. "Oh my God!"

You and Kirishima start to gag. Izuku curses and lifts Noa away from him. Ema coughs. "(Y/n), do something!"

“He’s full. I’ll be right back.” You grab him from Izuku. Ema rolls her watery eyes. "What tipped you off?"

"(Y/n), what the hell is wrong with Noa's ass?!" Kirishima fans in front of his nose. You huff and back away from the table, slightly offended despite the stench. Izuku shyly follows you.

“You sure you don’t need me?”

“I can change his diaper, hon.” You're not sure about this one, though.

“Ooh!” Ema starts clapping her hands with glee. You point to her and have pleading eyes for her to shut up. “Shut it, Ema. Don’t start.”

Ema remained unfazed. She waved at the two of you. “We’ll see you guys later! And Midoriya,” Izuku turns around. “Uh, Eijirō and I have to cancel the weekend.”

“We do?” Kirishima stops kissing Hana’s cheek. She has his eyes. Nose and up are him and below is definitely Ema. It’s amazing how these babies' faces are changing.

Ema elbows him. “I-I mean, yeah! We do! Ema and I have to work on our report and then we have Hana-you know, we’re absolutely swamped, ha, ha.” Kirishima's smile is as fake as Kaibara's heroics.

Izuku pauses then sucks on his lips. His round eyes get bigger. “R-right! Right! I’ll see you later.”

You bid them goodbye. To your side is Izuku who keeps up with your speed. “You know you don’t need to do this, right? I’m capable.”

“I know you are! You-you're amazing with Noa.” You bite your lips and look towards the ground. That has been something heavy on your heart from the start. Being a parent is one thing but being a good one is another. You struggle with this and see how everyone is better than you are. It's like all of them have more and do more. To have someone you just met say that you’re doing amazing despite your inadequacy has you feeling warm in a good way.

“Thank you, Izuku.”

In the general studies commons, you lay Noa down on the coffee table, not thinking to put a blanket or something underneath him. You had placed his diaper bag at the side of the couch where Izuku sits.

“Hand me-no, that one-the one right there!” Izuku searches the bag. He pulls out the diaper. “This?”

“Yes, thank you.” You roll your eyes and take the diaper. When you take his bottoms off, Noa gains this strange look on his face. Brushing it off, you ask Izuku, “Wanna learn?”

“Uh, sure. What side does it-” Izuku gestures to the diaper. Smiling, you begin, “Like this-”

Suddenly, right as you open Noa’s used diaper, the unthinkable happens. You scream bloody murder, as warmth hits your chest and shoulders. Izuku gasps then scrambles away. You jerk back away from the baby.

Noa, your own doll son, is peeing on you. You, his mother.

“Oh my God!” Izuku laughs and holds his phone out, recording your horror as you distance yourself from the stream by pressing yourself impossibly close to the couch. “Are-are you recording me?”

Seeing this, you grab Noa and hold him up to Izuku. The little bastard stops peeing. Izuku has tears in his eyes. You glare at Noa. “Are you kidding me?!”

Noa laughs, matching Izuku’s. “I can’t believe this disrespect!” You stomp your foot then make a disgusted noise when it begins to cool. “It’s cold!”

Izuku reaches for Noa, who stops laughing. “You go get cleaned up-”

“Noa, no!” Izuku shouts as Noa gives him the equal treatment. Noa stops and looks triumphant. “Ha!” You point.

Noa’s shirt is raised a little and on his tummy is eight months. Who knew that all he needed to do to grow up was pee on you?

_____________________________

Izuku’s a little wet from the shower. He rubs the top of his curls, causing them to shake and small droplets to fall. After Noa's pee parade, both of you decided to take showers. Thankfully, the baby was very calm when you decided to bathe with him, not once screaming when the water touched him. Maybe Noa's growth will stop the tears a little.

“I have to get him bigger sizes. Look at him!” Your poor chunky baby is busting out of his clothes. His diaper barely fits, and you just got this size. Shit, shit, shit. "I have to go to Hatsume first then-"

“I’ll go to Hatsume, you go find something to put Noa in for the time being. Afterwards, we'll go to that little store around the corner." You bite your cheek for a second. "If you want to come with me then know that you'll be doing some heavy lifting."

He perks up. “It’d be great for training.” Before he goes you reach for your bag. "Here, if I remember right the diapers should cost the same no matter the size-" You turn to find him gone. You should be happy, grateful, maybe even flattered. Yet here you sit with this terrible feeling of embarrassment.

You put Noa on your hip and smack your cheek. Now is not the time for self-pity or whatever. Now is the time to get the little man into something presentable. In your room, you search around. His stash of clothing is so small compared to him now. You sigh and go through your own clothes. He'll just have to settle for one of your tops. He squeals and reaches for you after you put it on him.

"You excited, mini man?" You ask as you are in the elevator. Noa claps and tries to talk the entire time, having a full-blown conversation. The door opens and you see Izuku waiting for you in your dorm's commons. In his hands are several packs of Hatsume's diapers. The doors threaten to close on you since you haven't moved.

Izuku comes up to you and stops the elevator doors from closing. "Are you okay?" He puts his hand against your forehead. "Your temperature's fine-"

"I-I'm fine," You blink several times. "Positive. Let's roll." He looks at you skeptically. You grab a diaper from him and walk past, not wanting him to question it further.

Izuku has a bit more pep in his step as the two of you walk through the campus side by side. You pass people who are heading towards the main building. Every person around stares at him in awe. The many eyes are nerve wracking and overall annoying. Rather than bringing it to his attention, you let it slide and walk faster.

The two of you walk into the same shop you went to with Kaibara. The employee immediately recognizes you. Apparently, she recognizes Izuku just as well. In an instant, she trips over to introduce herself. “Thank you for everyth-”

When she grabs his arm, you feel something tingly, something that would be bitter if you could taste it. “That’s enough. Izuku, come with me.” You grab his hand and lead him away. It’s, um, not subtle. Worst of all, you don’t know why this is. Why did you become jealous? You’re not so naive to be ignorant to what jealousy is. Not when you’re so familiar with it.

You pull out a list of things the little turd needs. “Shirts, pants, shoes, literally everything.” Izuku takes him out of your wrap. Smiling, he says, “And a carrier. This can’t be good for you to wear all the time.”

Before you can defend it, he adds, “We'll get bigger sizes so he can grow into them.” He bounces the baby. You are about to tell him he doesn’t like to be bounced when you realize that Noa isn’t crying. That he has only cried with Izuku once.

Your eyes twitch and nostrils flare. “You’re right.”

You’ll handle that later. Then, you see it. He isn’t a full-fledged hero yet. He’s still interning and is just now getting back on his feet. Yet this is an opportunity that you can't pass up. “How about this?”

You hold up a green jacket with long stems at the hood, resembling bunny ears. It’s Deku merchandise. Along with it are other ones, too. A Uravity helmet, gloves that look like Dynamight’s with grenade print at the wrists, there are Ingenium’s shoes. All over are merchandise for kids in honor of heroes that fought in the wars. There are scarves that resemble Aizawa and that one tired kid's ropes and a Lemillion blanket that matches his red cape with his symbol in the corner.

His breath hitches. You place the jacket in the cart. “It’d be cute-are you okay?”

His eyes are watery as he looks at the cloth. He leans in and excitedly declares, “We’ll get everyone’s! I’ll pay for it myself!” Your eyes are wide at how passionate he is about this. “Um…okay?”

Now, Noa is in his Deku jacket and Ingenium shoes that are a little bigger than what he can actually wear right now. Izuku’s eyes are down to the sidewalk. Noa rests in his arms, not yet in the carrier, and points to everything that catches his attention. Izuku’s behavior changed once he saw the merchandise. He paid for them like he said he would. Is that the reason for the difference? After dealing with Kaibara, the correct thing to do is ask.

“Are you bothered about paying?” Blunt and to the point. Izuku blinks then asks, “No, why?”

“You’re acting weird so I just thought…” You shrug and let the sentence trail off. “I’m happy to do it. I’m happy for everyone and can’t wait to show them. It’s more of my things that I feel off about.”

Before you can ask why, he changes the topic. “He does look cute, right?” Noa smiles and pulls on Izuku’s hair. “Yeah, yeah, cute as can be.”

You adjust the bags and continue to walk. “Let me.” He takes the bags from you. “W-hold on you got Noa.”

Somehow, he takes the numerous bags from you and hands you Noa with ease. It’s probably the training he does or something because you are clumsy compared to him.

You sigh and shake your head. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

“I want to! I really like y-uh, Noa! He’s adorable. He’s the cutest baby I’ve ever seen.” Your face begins to warm not only because he thinks Noa is cute, but that Noa looks like you. A fact pops in your head cooling you down. “He’s not really a baby, though.”

“Still a cutie.” He takes a better look at Noa. “Looks just like you. I don’t see Kaibara at all.”

“Really? I see it in the nose a little bit.”

“Mm, nah. See,” He delicately traces his finger along the little mound. Noa sneezes anyway and smiles. “That right there is you. You both have a cute nose.”

Your nose is something you never thought was cute. But the weird unintentional comment makes you feel…flattered? Amazing? Pretty? It’s such a weird feeling that you've never felt before or at least haven't in a while. You feel like shrieking for some reason. Why? You've just met this guy and only know him through a friend of a friend. Nevertheless, his adoration of Noa and your nose makes you feel good.

You hold the door open for him to enter inside your dorms. You can't help but feel that you forgot something now that you're inside the campus.

“Ah, do you have anything to do this weekend?” You turn to Izuku who looks absolutely in pain. “Um, yeah? But only for a bit.”

“O-oh. Never-never mind then!” He retreats and puts the bags gently on the floor. Even from his side profile you can see the disappointment hidden behind those bright eyes of his. “I can make room, of course. Why’d you ask?”

“Well, um, I would like to spend some time with you, if that’s alright. But if you’re with Kaibara , then I don’t want to intrude.” He rubs the back of his neck and doesn’t make eye contact with you. You hear him mutter something about plans and how you don’t have to feel obligated. That’s all you catch with his muttering.

“S-sorry! I know that freaks-”

“I don’t mind, I like it. I think it’s endearing.” He gives a little gasp with a widening smile. “I-In that case, um, thanks. You’re the first one.”

You can’t help but smile. “What do you have in mind, anyway?”

“Ha, well, there's this restaurant I’ve been wanting to try-you don't have to by the way! I just know they also have some food that I think Noa’ll like!”

“Sure.”

“You probably have so much going on, this was dumb I’m-wait, what?” Izuku sputters, shocked that you agreed.

“I’ll go. But it’ll have to be before ten.”

“Of course, the curfew is at nine!”

“I mean, I have to be asleep by then.” He plays with Noa’s peach fuzz for hair. “Is it Noa’s schedule?”

“No, my own. I trained myself that way because of my quirk."

He perks up and gets close, sitting on the couch next to you. You move the many bags out of his way. “What’s your quirk? How does it wor-” Ah, you heard from Ema a while back that he was not only a hero fanatic, but a quirk nerd. He has notebooks dedicated to them.

“Uh, it has to do with dreams. It isn't the best.”

His real quirk has to be something with conjuring because this notepad came out of nowhere. Where the hell did he keep it? How deep are his pockets? He opens it and finds a page deep in the middle. “Tell me more, please? I’d love-”

Noa is on the floor next to you, bringing out his favorite toys from his diaper bag on his own. Izuku continues his rapid fire of questions. You decide to go with the first one. “I don't remember the name because I never cared to do anything with it. It has to do with dreams."

He writes fast. “How?” This is like an interview. You pray you're not sweating too bad. “I don't know if I could actually bring, like, a dream of Bikini Bottom-"

“What?”

“I couldn't think of anything!” You're failing this interview. You could have said anything else. Maybe if you weren't such a dumbass and actually paid attention to it, you could explain it better.

“Sorry, sorry. Continue, please. It’s been so long since someone's let me do this.”

You nod and say, "I never tested it to see how far it can go. What I do know is that I can't change one."

Noa hits your foot with his block. You put it on top of his head. "I know for a fact that I won't be able to save you from a nightmare, but I can hold your hand, type of thing." You wave your hand dismissively, not really caring about quirks in the first place. Since no one is allowed to use them, then why are they important?

“I think it'd be harder for me to do anything to another person than for me to use my own, though. So, if I dreamed of Bikini Bottom," You scratch your cheek. "Then I can show you? Maybe I could bring you there or something."

“So, controlling dreams?”

“No. I can't control dreams; I don't know if I can even create them. I honestly never looked into it. Quirks have never been a big part of my life." Izuku stops and stares at you. “Don’t worry, though! I never let my quirk get out of control. I take medicine at night to stop it.”

He looks at you with a curious and what you could swear is cautious, face. There’s a clawing feeling that reaches from your stomach to your throat. You shake your head, not wanting him to feel that you would violate him by entering his dreams or something. “It’s not the best-”

“I think it’s wonderful. I bet it’s beautiful," No one has ever said that. Then again, you've never really talked about it either. “Have you tried training it?”

You give a small 'no'. Izuku smiles a little and plays with one of his curls. “Since the Sports Festival is coming up and I’ll be busy with it, would you like to trai-”

The bell rings cutting him off. That's what you forgot. You've been here so long with him, you totally forgot about school. In fact, school is over. The two of you missed half of the school day. You jump up and go to grab Noa who has decided that he must defeat another milestone.

“Go baby, go!” You cheer Noa on as he crawls towards your sneakers. “Oh, oh, oh, hold on! Hold-” Izuku fumbles with his phone to record it.

______________________________________

Early Saturday, you called your boss for a change of schedule so you could be with Izuku. You even promised to work all day and night on Sunday. She said no. And when you told her the reason, she looked like the Grinch.

“Um, I know you wanted to go to that restaurant but how about another? I know a place with somewhat good food and good prices.”

“Yeah?” He puts Noa in the carrier and picks it up along with the diaper bag with All Might on it. When the first one you bought broke, Izuku insisted on getting one for you. Of course, it had to be one with All Might's face on it.

“I gotta warn you, the food is subpar at best, and the floors are sticky, and the service is horrendous.” He tries not to laugh. “If you like it, then it must be something.” Despite him having his hands full, he opens the door for you.

The devil stands at the register. “Oh hello, there! Such a beautiful couple. And who is this cutie?” You are literally shaking. Izuku messes with his curls and doesn’t correct her. “This is Noa. Say hi, bud.” Noa looks up at her and reaches for the devil who just happens to be your boss.

“Sorry, we’re still working on him talking.”

She looks at him and gives a kind smile. One that isn’t devious or fake. It’s just kind. You still don’t trust it though. “I bet you’re doing great,” Like you predicted, it turns into a smirk.

“Hey, what word are you trying to get him to say?” Before Izuku can answer, you say, “Retirement home.”

She freezes. Her kids and you have an ongoing joke about admitting her when she gets old and even more senile. Ken has even joined in on the fun.

Izuku raises a brow. “I was thinking mama…”

Yona recovers. “Oh, come on, with a man like you by her side? I bet he says dada first!”

“I’m still voting for retirement home. It has such a nice ring to it. When I hear it, I think of that little government funded one. It doesn’t have a shuffleboard or filet mignon, but at least there are beds. I bet he could also say funeral home.”

She stops then and gives a glare. “Let’s find you a table.”

Izuku leans into your ear. “Do you know each other?”

Shit. “Ah, yeah. I come here quite a bit.” He nods at your explanation. The two of you are seated right in the middle, no doubt a deliberate seating since it is in perfect line with her and Ken’s nosy asses.

“I’ll leave these to you.” She sets menus down. Noa is sitting in his highchair, wiping it with his hand. This is not the first time he’s been here, clearly. Yona cocks her head as she studies Noa. “He’s got a good shaped head.”

“What?” Izuku takes a drink of the water Yona poured in his green class. You don't blame him for being confused. It's a random ass thing to bring up. “I’m just saying. You two did good at shaping his head.”

You rub your face. “Thank you, ma’am. I already know wha-”

“I bet he gets it from you hon. What’s your name, again?” She places her hand on the back of Izuku’s chair. “Izuku Midoriya.”

“That name sounds familiar. Anyway, he must’ve got your head because hers is annoying looking.”

Bitch. Your head is perfect. It is the best shaped head in the universe and how dare she question that. Besides, shaping Noa's was a chore since he felt the need to lay on one side. Thankfully, it isn’t misshapen like Hana’s.

“You know what? He actually looks like-”

“I know what I want, ma’am!” You will haunt her dreams. Yona huffs and asks the bewildered Izuku what he’d like. He watches the two of you. “I’ll have the same as her.”

“Ah, and the cook would-”

“Tell him, block 5 for me please.” Ken will get the hint of his prison stunt. Yona purses her lips and walks away. Izuku leans in. “Are you sure you don’t know them?”

“Positive. I just come here a lot.” Izuku takes in his surroundings. “It is quite homey. Like a mom and pop’s shop.”

“Hopefully the awful food doesn’t chase you away.” Noa cries and tugs his ear. You hope he’s just sleepy and it’s not an ear infection that’s been going around. If so, you’re in trouble. For some reason, Hatsume decided that viruses and crap should be added to the project. Well, it was either her or the heroes. “Here, let me.”

Izuku cradles him and gives him kisses. Noa wails and messes with his ears. “(Y/n), he isn’t sleepy, what-”

“Ear infection is my guess. Mei should have something for it,” You call out, “Yona, we need it to go! I’m gonna take Noa back.”

“Shouldn’t we pay?” Izuku gets up, bouncing Noa in an attempt to calm him. “Nah, it’s fine.” You don’t notice the suspicious look on his face.

__________________________

It’s June now, and Noa is still eight months old. Compared to his newborn phase, this is a little easier. Not by much since he is a curious little beastie who likes crawling and getting into things. And of course, you forgot that babies teethe. The dreaded shrill screams that he has every once in a while, makes you want to reach for the bottle of alcohol for yourself rather than put it on his gums. To stop that, fucking Deku made sure to get Noa Mei's cream for it.

“You’ve grown so much, little one.” Noa babbles in response. Lately, he has been vocal and clearly trying to speak. “Yeah?”

He responds in his usual way. “What’s your first word gonna be? Mama? Eh? Ma-ma.”

He ‘blahs’ in response. “Close, I guess.” You pop a boh-boh back in his mouth and set him down on the floor. He immediately crawls around and gets into your bag. “Hey, hey!”

You take a pencil away from him, causing him to huff in protest. His disappointment doesn’t last long as he speedily crawls away towards your shoes. Lately, Noa is deciding that your shoes are priceless entertainment.

The Sports Festival is coming up and the hero course is busier than ever and bursting with excitement. This is the first one since the wars. They canceled last year for obvious reasons and there was a debate if they should continue them at all. The majority vote went to the tradition continuing.

Izuku has been tough to get a hold of which sucks because Noa does not like that. He needs his buddy, apparently. You decide to text him.

“Does this seem okay? ‘Hi, Izuku. I would like to hang out with you again sometime soon. It’s okay if you don’t want to.’”

Noa just looks up at you. “Yeah, sounds very,” You struggle to come up with a word. Noa seems to get it quicker than you do with his, “Ba.”

“Stiff. Yep, that’s the word.” You type some more with Noa crawling onto your lap looking down at the screen. “How about this? ‘Do you want to hang out sometime?’ ”

Noa hums then blows a bubble. “You’re right, that’s fine.” You hit send with your face warm. You whisper, “I just asked out a boy. Oh my God.”

Izuku has been around you a lot but you’ve never asked him out. No, you still didn’t! This isn’t a romantic thing. It’s about Noa and his attachment to him! It’s not like it’s a date. When he took you out to eat at the restaurant it wasn’t a date either since Noa got an ear infection, so it was cut short.

You smack your forehead repeatedly. “Stupid teenage hormones!” That has to be it.

Your phone vibrates in your hand. Noa touches the phone, his drool getting on the screen. You wipe it off and read what Izuku sent you.

I’d love to! How about Friday?

Stupid teenage hormones. The phone vibrates again.

Will you cheer me on during the festival?

You answer, Noa and I both will.

You didn’t originally want to go but now you’re a little excited to watch. Stupid teenage hormones.

_______

Izuku invites you to watch him train instead of going out to what was not a romantic outing. You go, not really knowing what to expect. Him doing pushups or something? That’s wiped out when you open the heavy metal door and enter the large room.

You didn't realize when he said train, he meant train. The students of Class A soar through the air. Flames and rocks fly around as debris crushes buildings. Suddenly, you spot familiar green hair in the air with his leg ready. He isn't wearing his suit yet still displays great power. You don't know the name of who is coming at him but one kick from Izuku sends the guy down after hearing a crunch from his body.

Of course, your doll son is entertained and kicks his own legs. He reaches his hands out and squeals when Izuku comes down to land on the cliff, making it crack underneath him. You don't know how he's able to do it, thick thighs or not. He turns his head when he hears a baby’s laugh. “(Y/n)-ah, Noa!” He jumps down and runs to you.

Noa’s back is against your chest and your arm underneath his legs. Izuku sees this. “Uh, here, like this.”

He readjusts to set him on your hip. You glare at him. “He was fine.”

After sighing at his picking, you say, “You were pretty amazing.” From what you saw, at least. “It’s unfortunate you hang out with trash, though.”

“(Y/n).” He says with a pointed stare. Noa reaches for him with a big smile on his face. Izuku grabs and holds him. Izuku gives Noa a big kiss. “I missed you! Didn’t think you’d remember me, honestly.”

“You talked to him all the time.”

“Not as much as I should, though. Sorry about that, Noa.” Noa presses his face against Izuku’s chest. It’s a sweet scene. There’s no way Kaibara would do this. He barely participated with the report, and he didn’t even look at Noa.

Izuku gasps, knocking you out of your thoughts. He cheers and even congratulates your doll son for growing in length. And if you were crazy, you’d swear his eyes got a little rounder and his face shape, although still adorned with chubby cheeks, doesn’t match you or Kaibara’s. They’re Izuku’s. Noa has your eye color and nose, what may be your lips and Izuku’s chin. Does he see it or are you crazy?

Before he can say anything, the electric guy comes up. “I didn't know you were doing it! He’s so cute!” The blond pokes Noa’s cheek. Looking at him you are reminded of Jule. He’s doing alright now but he still struggles. When this first started, you remember he had thrown up because of the stress. His partner, the electric guy, wasn't and isn't helping. Your tongue is loose on its own accord. “You know who else is cute?”

He raises a brow and tries, keyword tries, to act suave. “Certainly you. My name is Denki Kaminari-”

“Your child. You’d know that if any of you actually did something. Do you even know the name? How about your partner’s?”

The class became quiet. Kaminari’s eyes waver a bit. A person stops their quirk in the middle of using it. You can't stand them. Them breathing the same air as you makes you sick. “Wanting to be a hero yet can’t take responsibility after pushing your grade us-no, hey!” Izuku tries to usher you out. You continue your rant about Kaminari's lack of effort in the project.

"Your partner's name is-stop it! Hey!"

Izuku carries Noa in one hand and you in the other. He doesn't say anything. Aizawa follows and calls Snipe who is groaning. Izuku manages to take you out of the training room and into a hall around the corner. His silence and tension bother you.

Are you going to apologize? Hell no.

Snipe comes at you at a fast pace. Izuku has yet to let you go. “(Y/n) (L/n), in here. Now.”

You snatch Noa and go inside the empty room right behind you. Snipe points his finger at you. “This is it. I have had it with your disrespectful, insubordinate, attitude. Look, I understand you’re angry. Everyone has been there. (Y/n), you can’t take your wrath out on everyone else.”

“Then who? Who can I take it out on? This is all unfair. So tell me, when and how can I be angry while they can sleep at night with no remorse? With no burden?”

“They have them. They’re just more mature than you.”

“They’re old. You have put this on young people. They, you, have been disrespectful. Everyone kisses your ass while the people whose hearts you swore to protect get crushed constantly. Tell me,” Your voice shakes. “How does this project help us? Not them. But us? Because they're out there living their best life while we are the ones to suffer for what seems like nothing.”

Snipe says nothing. “All I did was bring it up. Why is that so wrong?”

He takes off his mask for the first time. “It’s teaching both of you. They’ve grown up in a way you didn't, and will not, have to. You have faced the effects of war which you shouldn’t have in ways they never faced. Now it is time to raise you both in a way that prevents that. An opportunity to bond and grow together.”

You rub your eyes. “Answer me! How can I take out my anger then while they get off of everything ? We apparently have a test today-”

“Which you are missing!”

“So bent on them. Damn, man! When are you going to start being a hero?”

“I am-”

“Being our hero? I’m tired, Snipe. I’m sick of getting in trouble for nothing and I didn’t even get to study for this dumb test. Did any of us? Bet they did!” You point to the door. You immediately left and pushed Aizawa away from you since he was in the way.

You’re sitting on the bench outside of the school with your head in your hands. The breeze slightly cools your face.

Desperately, you want to excel. In this project, life, and this school. You want to be a good student and person. You’re so tired. Physically, mentally, emotionally. Everything is so heavy. Noa’s sleeping better, just not enough. He’s easier to handle to an extent. Not to the point where you can go to class and do your work. Yeah, you skipped. What’s the point of going, though? Snipe yells at you when he’s too loud and everyone glares at you when it starts a chain reaction.

You can’t focus. You can’t sleep. You try to work hard in school and work harder at the restaurant. How can you get rest when you don't have time to?

The scholarship covers the tuition, the dorm, and Recovery Girl's and Lunch Rush services. And with Lunch Rush you have a limited amount, just like a public school. If you go over, you have to pay. And what about everything else you need? Add all of that with Noa's expenses, you're drained. Plus, if anything happens to him, no doubt would that come out of your pocket.

Caring for Noa is exhausting. He's a good kid, totally! You also have experience with children. You've babysat before. However, taking care of a child on your own is very different, especially when the father disregards you and hurts you. The hero students don’t have to worry about this. Seeing them living and laughing just makes you so angry.

Your body feels so heavy. The salty water slides down your face and onto the sidewalk. Your nose runs embarrassingly as you sway from the weight. Noa coughs and sniffles. It snaps you up and grab him. “Hey, little man.”

You try to rub your face. He doesn’t understand, he’s a doll which causes an ache in your chest. This has gone on too long. He feels so real. And you are crying too much, feeling way too much. Seeing the future heroes happy and content just hurt you so, so, much. Snipe, your teacher, is hurting you too. It's stupid, right? You know what to expect from heroes by now.

Feeling the chill again, you decide to get up to bring him inside. Can he catch a cold? Suddenly, a hand touches your back. You jump and face them. Izuku stands there without an expression. You’re so tired. You don’t have the energy to say something snappy if need be.

Instead of going for it, he hugs you, being careful with Noa. The doll baby snuggles up to him. Izuku places his hand on the back of your head holding you close. You don’t know him well enough to be like this. You let it happen anyway. He’s warm and smells good despite his training about an hour ago.

“It’s going to be okay, (Y/n).” Your lips wobble. You're sick of that. “I know we don't know each other very well but I thought you’d need it.”

He speaks again. “Snipe said you made a point and are letting all of you redo the test. I guess not everyone got to study,”

Is that supposed to make you feel better? It took for you to run out here and cry for him to notice he is doing all of you wrong? It’s humiliating and dramatic, isn’t it? There are literally people dying and here you are crying and making your teacher feel bad.

“So, I’ll help you, okay? Tonight, we can have dinner in the commons and do it together.” He rubs your back. This is so embarrassing. You want to scream at him, kick him, anything. You want to burn this school down with the heroes in it. Maybe even the dolls, too.

Izuku declares, “I’m right here.” Like it’s the most natural thing to him. Right then, Noa's tummy dings to show he is one years old. You hate how his first year is seeing you cry.

---

Tag:

@js-favnanadoongi

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afterimages-again · 9 months ago

Text

in which tim sees things.

what with the amount of things the Drakes bring home from their digs, it shouldn’t have surprised anyone that the manor itself - and the boy - would eventually become cursed.

(This is going to be pretty long.)

FACES IN THE PLATES When Tim was nine he broke a plate because he’d dropped it when it started talking to him. Janet was spooked by his sudden scream, but when she ran into the kitchen the plate, if not broken in half, looked perfectly normal. Tim swore there was a human face in the plate. The next time the Drakes left in another trip, Tim opened the kitchen cabinet to see every single plate bearing a human face, talking to him.

2. ROTATING CHANDELIERS Tim looks over his father’s shoulder sometimes and sees the chandelier spinning, lazily, like a ceiling fan. It makes clinking noises sometimes; no one else mentions it. They can’t seem to hear or see it rotate.

3. ANIMALS RUNNING IN THE HALLS (based on this fantastic art by @/dappermouth) When the night is dark enough and Tim is alone he can hear various large animals roam around the house. On one memorable occasion there was a gigantic stag walking past the sitting room he was in. It didn’t notice him, unlike another more unfortunate time he looked out of his bedroom and made eye contact with a leopard, which promptly sprinted towards his open doorway. Thank god he slammed the door shut fast enough.

3. SNAKE-HEAD PORTRAITS The photographs and painting on the walls began looking odd the first time Tim picked up a camera. When he glanced at his grandmother’s portrait the woman in the picture had an ugly snake’s head, jaws wide open and very decidedly not his grandmother. He panicked and called his mother but the call wouldn’t connect. When the Drakes returned home the next day the portrait had returned to normal.

4. CHILDREN IN THE LAUNDRY ROOM they become more common an appearance when Tim turns fifteen, walking into the laundry room to pick up his uniform when out of the washing machine spills a blonde giggling little girl. In retrospect she sort of looks like Steph. After he helps her up and turns to close the door of the machine, he looks back and she’s gone, just like every other giggling child he finds in Drake Manor’s laundry room.

5. THE VULTURE a bearded vulture appeared on Tim’s desk when he woke up one day. And then it never really left. Sometimes Tim would talk to it when he got bored and the vulture would talk back. At some point the bearded vulture managed to convince Tim to try eating a chicken bone, like it did (if Tim forgot to feed the bird it would disappear for the night and come back hours later cracking bones into swallowable bits) - the splintered bone parts were too sharp, and when he swallowed they scratched the inside of his throat. He never ate bones after that, but he still talked to the vulture.

7. THE SECRETARY BIRD Oddly enough, one night after a secretary bird appeared for the first time in Drake Manor’s hallways, it kept coming back, unlike the other animals that roamed the house when only Tim was home. It followed him around the house but said nothing. Sometimes the vulture would talk to it but it wouldn’t respond. When Janet came into Tim’s room she didn’t seem to notice the silent secretary bird standing beside her son’s bed, but she did notice the feather she’d stepped on; after Tim swore he didn’t know where the feather had come from she just… left. Suspicious, but unable to prove anything. No one ever mentioned the vulture or the secretary bird yet but they definitely noticed the feathers.

8. DEATH this hulking, robed creature that only appeared in his reflections. Oftentimes seconds after seeing the creature he’d hear a scream, more often than not see someone die, whether from falling from a building, getting shot, overdosing, or getting run over, etc.

Sometimes Death speaks to him directly. Sometimes it looks at someone’s (Stephanie’s. Bruce’s) corpse and says, they are not dead. Tim takes it with a grain of salt.

9. RADIO TALKS TO YOU AND ONLY YOU the radio that Tim bought in order to listen to GCPD broadcasts began talking directly to him most of the time, after a while. Memorable lines included “Hi, Tim, has anyone come to check on you yet?” And “Hi, Tim, the flip Robin did last week was oddly familiar. You should listen to whatever your brain is telling you.” While he couldn’t interact with the radio like he could with the vulture, sometimes he turned it on just to listen to something talk to him - he doesn’t know who the radio voice talking to him is. It’s never changed throughout the years.

9. STONE STATUES When he visited Jason’s grave a week after the boy’s death, the mourning stone angel in front of the grave turned its head towards him and started crying blood.

10. THE BREATHING HALLWAY If he wastes enough energy to listen closely, he can hear a kind of overwhelming, rattling breathing going on in the air of particular hallways in both Drake and Wayne Manor. If he squints he can see the way the walls pull taut against each other and loosen as well, like it’s actively inhaling and exhaling.

11. BLOOD IN YOUR CUP He’s working on a case with a cup of whatever abomination he’s taken to drinking lately when he looks down, absently, and sees the dark, thick liquid sloshing around in his cup.

12. MARBLES ON THE FLOOR sometimes in the early morning (we’re talking 4am) he’d get up and find the floor of his bedroom and the adjoining hallway littered with marbles. They always clattered too loudly when he used his foot to nudge them out of the way. One time Damian saw him kicking the marbles away and asked, scornfully, why he was kicking air. Tim just stared at him and shrugged.

13. DOLLS THAT MOVE Near a crime scene that stumps nearly all the detectives on site, Tim, if he’s lucky, can see a group of porcelain dolls reenacting the crime scene in a corner - no one else seems to be able to. Sometimes it’s a doll with a painted smiling face convulsing on the ground as another doll mimes sawing it into half. Other times there’s some convoluted role playing going on and Tim has to switch between watching the dolls carefully and responding to the people around him, because Dick has expressed concern for his “spacing out” more than once. The dolls are, if he can decipher their acting accurately, always correct, and on occasion are crucial in solving the crime - even if Tim’s deduction is then waved off as baseless or a lucky guess.

(He’s sort of like god’s little lab rat.)

basically Tim’s still Robin (and eventually Red Robin) but with all these… not-hallucinations going on, and while he interacts with them he freaks out everyone else around him. Plus it gives him mad advantages and disadvantages in investigations. Please feel absolutely free to ask me about this au. The dreams I’ve been having are becoming too vivid, so now I’m throwing Tim into them. <3

#tim drake #au #essentially I snapped wide awake today and went “writing this down isn’t enough. I need my blorbo to actually suffer through it”#afterimages

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trashcanfanfics · 2 years ago

Note

Can you please write a oneshot about Alastor after he had a fight with reader, and he clearly was the one in the wrong. What does he do to make it up? Does he realize it himself or does someone like Rosie or someone from the hotel have to point it out to him. Does he feel guilty? Did he make reader cry? Sorry if this is too much or too sad.

What a way to rise from the dead

He doesn't know what happened, really. One second he was telling jokes and you were laughing, the next you were in a heated argument. Something about him trying to push a punchline that you thought was hurtful and him disagreeing heavily. The argument was brief and he just didn't close his damned mouth fast enough.

"Perhaps you should learn to just take a joke, my dear. Wouldn't want to become a flat tire, now, would we?" His ever present smile held more condescension than he'd ever directed towards you before. your fists shook at your sides and you glared at him with all the rage and heartbreak you felt.

"I need space." And with that, you'd turned on your heel and left the hotel entirely. Alastor shrugged it off and sat down at the concierge-slash-bar to enjoy a drink.

It had been hours since then and Alastor hadn't made any moves to try to find you or remedy the situation. He did notice that his drinks have all tasted sour. At some point he knew he was going to have to face you again. The feeling in his stomach was curious but he was sure it's because of the amount of giggle water in his system.

"God, has anyone seen that asshole?" A certain feminine spider came down the stairs. "I've got a thing in thirty minutes and they still have my fuckin' glue." Angel rounded the pillar and looked at Alastor, tipsy, and squinted.

"They haven't been here most the day." Husk was grumpily cleaning a glass. "Why don't you text 'em?" Angel flopped halfway on the bar and half on a stool, a little too close for Alastor's liking. He decided that he was too sloshed to care much. The spider sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I tried that!" All four of his arms raised up in exasperation. "They ain't answerin'! I sent three already! Ugh, I'm gonna have to go to the store!" Two sets of arms crossed to show his annoyance. Alastor paused at this. It wasn't like you not to answer after the second text. Were you injured? Had you gotten lost? Was someone else bothering you right now? Was someone...entertaining you? More than he did? He couldn't bare it and stood abruptly, only to stumble slightly. The Radio Demon regained his footing and rushed into the shadows, leaving behind the two sinners. He'd ignored Angel's snicker at his less than stable start and focused more on finding your energy. It was harder in this state but he was determined.

You were sitting in a secluded garden of blood red roses near the more peaceful part of Cannibal Colony. It had been a few hours since you left and you keep going over how Alastor insinuated you were boring for not wanting to be the butt of a joke. It hurt you and made you angry at him for trying to turn it back on you. You'd spent too much of your life hearing other people tell you that you're "too sensitive" or "need to take a joke". You won't tolerate it in death and especially not from your boyfriend.

A loud thump ripped you from your thoughts. You looked in the direction of the noise and see Alastor, halfway in a rosebush. He hardly took notice as his eyes met yours. His smile almost looked strained and his eyes glassy.

"Darling! There you are!" He stumbled out of the bush, pants ripped enough to almost see his leg. He rushed to your side and tripped, falling to his knees. You looked down at him as he grasped your legs and looked up at you, slightly dazed.

"Are...Are you drunk?" His smile lifted at your voice and he sighed dreamily up at you. "Oh my god." He tried to get up again but his foot caught a rock and he slipped back down. You stumbled a little as he grasped your legs tighter during this.

"Dar-darling, where have you been? It's been hours!" He looked back up at you. "I missed you! Can we get home?" You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Alastor, The Radio Demon, was drunk and on his knees in front of you. A small part of you felt powerful like this, but you quickly tucked it away. You sighed.

"Yeah, let's get you home." You reached down and helped him to his feet. He leaned on you as you both made your way out of the garden. "I can't believe you're out in public like this." He giggled, actually giggled, in response and sighed as he leaned more on you.

"Mwen sonje ou ba ou dabitid mwen." You were sure that was a language but it was slightly slurred from his lips. With no other ideas, you pat his back and continued on. He took a deep breath and then disappeared into the shadows. You stopped and looked around.

"Alastor? What the fuck?" You groaned in annoyance. "Alastor!" You trudged back towards the hotel in a huff. He was going to have so much apologizing to do tomorrow.

Alastor, however, had face planted right into his bed. He rolled over and looked around. His room in the hotel was spinning and he couldn't see his darling, dearest, sweetest love anywhere. Had he not brought them with him? Did they go away again? His smile wobbled and his vision grew blurry. Was he not what they wanted? Hasn't he always provided for them? Did they not like his cooking? Or his jokes? Oh. Oh that was why. The joke from earlier. Tears dripped down his face. Oh no.

You made your way into the hotel and up the first flight of steps before heading for the elevator. Angel's voice called to you from halfway down the hall.

"Where's my fuckin' glue!" The only response he got was a quick "on my dresser" before the elevator doors shut. You tapped your foot impatiently. If he wasn't here you were going to scream. Idly, you wondered if he was even drunk and just trying to get you to interact with him. He didn't like going too long without talking to you unless it was his choice, and even then it wouldn't be more than two hours max. You'd gone nearly five before he found you.

The end of the hallway on the fourth floor was usually dark due to the fixture breaking about a year back and no one fixing it. It was the way Alastor liked it. "Easier to get a good spook in and deter those who bother me", he'd say. It never really bothered you, oddly enough. Especially now, since you could hear the muffled sniffles of your lover. You knocked on the door.

"Alastor? Im coming in!" You only got halfway in the door before you were yanked into the room and the door slammed shut. Tight arms wrapped around you and held you close to a heaving chest.

"I thought you left again! I'm sorry! For my cooking! For not giving you enough! For my jokes!" He sobbed. You blinked. Just how drunk was he? You weren't sure this was the same Alastor that would rip someone's face off, roast it, feed it back to them, and then laugh as they cried.

"Well, one of those is correct." You brought you hands up and pushed him back before tugging him to the bed. "Let's just get you to go to sleep, okay, we can talk more in the morning." God, he was a mess. Tears made his eyes redder than they were, his face was splotchy and snot was dripping out of his nose.

"But!" You didn't let him finish as you pulled back the covers and pushed him into bed. "Darling! I'm sorry!" You rolled your eyes and positioned him on his side before tucking him in.

"Okay, tell me about it tomorrow." You gently fixed his hair and kissed his forehead. His eyes closed and he hummed low. It wasn't long before his breathing became even and he was snoring slightly.

The next morning you opened your eyes to see Alastor, fit as a fiddle, staring down at you with a tray of breakfast foods in his hands. You screamed in surprise and sighed heavily after recognizing your boyfriend. Sitting up, you yawn.

"Good morning, Darling! I made you breakfast!" He set the tray down over your legs and smiled wider. You looked up at his with an eyebrow raised.

"If you think that I'm just gonna forget what happened yesterday, you're wrong." Your sentence made him droop a little.

"I'm sorry, for the joke and whatever else I did yesterday." He clicks his fingers together slightly. "I...Don't remember much." You snorted at that.

"I guess you wouldn't, but i guess...I forgive you. Just don't make any jokes like that again." You looked at the tray, which had huge servings of your favorite breakfast foods. "Now, are you going to help me eat this or not?" He eagerly jumped into the bed and beside you, making you giggle.

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #trashcan answers you #hazbin hotel headcanon

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qu1cks1lversb1tch · 6 months ago

Text

What they're like when you're sick

Includes: Alastor, Angel Dust, Charlie, Husk, Lucifer, Sir Pentious, Vaggie, Valentino, Velvette, and Vox

Warnings: None

Word Count: 858

Alastor

He's indifferent and often times cruel, but if he cares about you, he's a real sweetie.

He'd bring you your favorite warm beverage.

He would cook something for you; probably something his mom made him when he was feeling under the weather as a child.

He'd check in to make sure you're resting. (You better be, or else.)

His shadow would keep you company, mostly keeping an eye on you while he's doing a broadcast.

He'd secretly be worried out of his mind, but he's to prideful to admit how much your wellbeing means to him.

Angel Dust

He's concerned as fuck; going as far as blowing off Val just to make sure you're okay.

Checks in every few hours with a new joke, just to see if you're well enough to react.

Let's you cuddle with Fat Nuggets while you sleep.

Have you eaten? Are you hungry at all? He'd grab you something quick from the kitchen, just say the word.

Watches movies with you until you pass out from exhaustion.

Practically shoves water and vitamins at you like he's a concerned mother.

Charlie

Nothing to her is more important than you getting better. Sorry world, that's just how it is.

She's practically perched at your bedside with vitamins, water, a fresh box of tissues, and a trash can.

Makes sure you eat at least one meal.

Let's you rest, but keeps close in case you need her.

Will do anything to make sure you're comfortable while your body works through the Hellish virus.

Keeps everyone else from bothering you.

Husk

He's worried about your wellbeing, but also knows you're not gonna drop dead on a whim.

Leaves crackers and medicine on your bedside table for whenever you wake up.

He conveniently only checks in when you're resting, just to make sure you're taking the recovery seriously.

Will make sure everyone knows that you're resting so that they'll try their hardest to not bother you.

Straight up goes 'dad mode' (as Angel calls it) if anyone makes a particularly loud noise that echoes off of the walls.

Sends you back to bed if you try to join everyone else. You need to rest.

Lucifer

Panics like he did whenever Charlie got sick.

Makes at least a dozen little ducks that resemble your personality so that you have his presence even when he's not in the room with you.

Brings you soup and your favorite hot beverage.

Warm compresses, warm blankets, cool room.

Gets absolutely anything you want.

Checks in on you religiously, but quietly so that he doesn't wake you.

Sir Pentious

He's literally probably the sweetest.

Will run to the store if you need something specific, no questions asked — would even leave the Egg Bois with you so you're not alone.

Has the basic necessities on hand.

Would fluff your pillows when you sat up to drink water.

Hungry? He's sending the Egg Bois downstairs to grab you something that you can eat.

He'd stay in the room and do his own thing, just to be close.

Vaggie

Is mad that you got sick, but is worried.

Would bring you your favorite sick soup if you said you were hungry. It's salty, but just what your body needs.

Death glares anyone who comes down the hallway too loud.

She would be distant, but still close by.

She's making sure your room's environment will help you get better. (Ex: cool air, warm blankets, closed curtains, etc.)

Will scold you if you get out of bed for anything other than the bathroom.

Valentino

He literally doesn't even notice at first, but once he does notice, he's sending someone to your room with your favorite hot beverage and antibiotics.

If anyone goes near your room that isn't him or the demon he's sending while he works, they're probably getting torn apart.

Every few hours, you'd wake up to find stuff on your bedside table that hadn't been there. Little trinkets, notes, and candies.

Threatens anyone who gets too loud.

At your bedside at the end of the day, making sure you drank something and at the very least took your vitamins.

Pushes you to eat something, while simultaneously leaving you alone to rest.

Velvette

You're sick!? This show is on hold until her favorite person is all better.

Refuses to go in the room without Hell's equivalent of Lysol on hand.

She comes bearing food and little trinkets to keep you occupied in your moments of boredom when you're not resting.

Will kill anyone who tries to bother you for some inane bullshit, best model or not.

Texts you periodically to make sure you're alive.

Will do research to help you the best she can.

Vox

He's watching you through the cameras and checking your vitals during his free time.

Let's you watch cartoons on his screen until you fall asleep in the late evening.

Is there with water the moment you go into a coughing fit.

Will ask around trying to figure out what to do for sick demons.

He brings you your favorite food and a weird looking stuffed animal that Velvette helped him pick out.

Works less to spend more time with you while you're recovering.

A/N: I guess these are my thing now 💅 if you want, you can join my discord here. It's absolutely no pressure if you don't want to, but if you wanna make some pretty cool friends, join in! The vibes are good like 90% of the time. If you're 18+, just make sure to let me know in the introductions chat :)

As always, my requests are open! I have 3 anon requests sitting there that I'll get to eventually — I swear I will lmao. I hope everyone enjoyed this! I love the support thst I got on the best friend's hc's <3 I appreciate all of you

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin vox #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #sir pentious #vaggie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel velvette #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin hotel insert

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 9 months ago

Text

02/23/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; How To Help; Rotten Tomatoes Reviews/GoggleBox; Cast & Crew Sightings; Taika; Rhys; Leslie Jones; New Watch Party: These Thems; Save OFMD UK Billboard; Transparency policy; RhysDarbyFaction; We'reWolves; Fan Spotlight; Podcasts/Youtube vids; Articles; Love Notes; Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika

Hey all. I'm starting out with the how to help section tonight because there are some things we'd love to see happen to try and help with the renewal.

== HOW TO HELP ==

= Rotten Tomatoes Reviews =

Okay all, this is a big one. It's been brought to my attention by @bzy_hands on twitter, that there are less than 1000 reviews on rotten tomatoes for Season 2. They have an excellent point, Con DID screenshot Season 2. If you haven't already, please go over to Season 2 and review it to help get over that 1000 review mark.

Need help on how to review on RT? @lowrahh Was kind enough to make a tutorial for us, check it out on the repo: Review on Rotten Tomatoes and IMDB

== Let's Get OFMD On Gogglebox ==

Our crew-mate @queerly-autistic was kind enough to have written up a How-To on on getting OFMD on Gogglebox!

"One of the biggest things we can do to try and get Our Flag Means Death picked up by another network is keep making noise about it, and so I had a wild middle-of-the-night idea about one way we could do this: try and get the show on Gogglebox! For anyone who doesn't know, Gogglebox is an extremely popular and successful show in the UK on Channel 4, where ordinary people (and sometimes celebrities) watch and react to television shows, pop culture moments and films."

Wanna give it a go? Please check out their tutorial here!

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

==Taika!==

It's been a minute since we've seen Taika! But he's out with Rita at the Taylor Swift concert.

= Rhys Darby =

Well, even though Rhys is taking some time off until March, we still have some Cameo's coming in from prior to him closing cameos!

= Cameo 1 - Cryptids! =

Thank you to @iamadequate1 for sharing this fun little cryptid video +

Tumblr / Twitter Links

= Cameo 2 =

Our friend @blackcravatart over on twitter was kind enough to share a birthday video for her (edited for names). I don't know if it's anywhere else and I didn't get permission to download it, so I apologize I'll try to do that and get back to you if we are allowed to share it elsewhere! Cameo Video on Twitter.

= Red Dead Redemption 2: Episode 3 =

The next exciting episode of Rhys playing Red Dead is up!

youtube

= Leslie Jones =

I really don't post enough about Leslie, who is my absolute idol. She's out doing comedy at the Hawaii Theater in Honolulu tonight with @lennymarcusnyc! Just wanted to give a shout out her way since she's a BAMF and deserves all the love.

== New Watch Party ==

Join @adoptourcrew on Friday 3/1 for a watch party of #TheseThems! Times haven't been secured quite yet but mark your calendars!

Watch Party Hashtags:

#TheseThems

#These Gems

#AdoptOurCrew

Wanna see what other watch parties are planned? Feel free to visit the repo for Watch Party Events.

== Save OFMD Billboard Campaign ==

Some of you may have noticed that there's been some suspicious pictures going up across multiple platforms regarding a billboard with the hashtag #WatchTheHorizon from our SaveOFMD Crew. There's definitely some Billboard planning in the works and the crew has provided a bit more transparency on the situation this time. All links in the images will be listed below.

Links:

SaveOFMD Crew Transparency Policy

Team HAVEN

Trans Lifeline

RainbowYOUTH

Outright International

Full Twitter Thread

== SchadenFreude ==

Just a little karma for WB.

== Rhys Darby Faction ==

So for those of you not on twitter, there was a bit of fun had with a random film poll guy who posted a poll that included Rhys Darby on Twitter.

It was found by OFMD twitter, and immediately started being retweeted, which, is how twitter works, right? His Response to this was:

So several of our OFMD Twitter group decided to OWN that lovely little name, and put together an actual hashtag #RhysDarbyFaction... and start polite menacing and trying to boost engagement for #AdoptOurCrew and #SaveOFMD Which triggered a meme factory, here's a few:

#RhysDarbyFaction is now a trending Hashtag on Twitter, and the Faction is using that to help support the #SaveOFMD and #AdoptOurCrew effort as well as spread positivity and love around Rhys Darby works. There's even a discord server if you're interested in joining: https://discord.gg/r7db78j4 There's been talks of putting together some events for a Cryptid Scavenger hunt, but in general it's just a small safe space to try and promote little guys and support the ofmd renewal effort. You don't need to join the discord to be part of the crew, just use #RhysDarbyFaction and be a polite menace/positive force!

== We're Wolves ==

So according to the #WellingtonParanormalPodcast's tiktok, it sounds like Jermaine is finally in talks for writing "We're Wolves"! A sequel to the 2014 What We Do In the Shadows movie. I know we've all been in a Vianton mood since that one Rhys Cameo, so just wanted to make sure you'd heard if you hadn't! SRC: Tiktok

== Fan Spotlight! ==

Getting close to the end of the month so gotta catch up! More collages from our friend @wnderngnomad on Twitter!

Day 23: The Cinematography

Day 4: Nat Faxon

Day 5: Vico Ortiz

Day 6: Leslie Jones

== Podcasts / Youtube Vids ==

Speaking of podcasts, checkout some podcasts from our fandom!

= Citizen Dame =

First up! @celluloidbroomcloset, has a podcast that’s called Citizen Dame. While it doesn't specifically discuss OFMD in this episode, they do discuss Taika, and you all know how much we love that man. So give it a listen and support a fellow crew-mate! Podbean Link / Patreon / Spotify

= Never Left Podcast =

Another fan-podcast I'd like to add tonight is Never Left! More podcasts and discussions on all things OFMD -- give them a listen if you feel up for it! "Welcome aboard our Safe Space Ship! Your Co-Captains, Ariana Perry and Amanda Catron, will be hosting this completely spoiled, totally unofficial, deep dive into Our Flag Means Death." Podbay / Linktr.ee

== Movies With Marty ==

Marty has a new First Watch video out! If you haven't watched Marty's vids yet, feel free to check them out! He's a hoot and is a HUGE supporter of OFMD!

youtube

== Articles ==

What to watch on Netflix and BBC this weekend?

Keeping promises of queer representation

== Love Notes ==

Today has been a long day lovelies, and I'm out of spoons so I'm gonna take a night off from writing out love notes and spread some from someone else. Just know I'm very proud of you for everything you did today, I hope you're doing well and feeling safe. <3

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Idk if these really go together tonight, but here we go. Both of them were on tenor with no srcs? Sorry! Hope you all enjoy!

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scarletsaphire · 1 year ago

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Our Death Was The Start (Til Death Do Us Part)

When two similar people die at the same time in similar ways, their souls may end up tied together in the afterlife, connecting them in a way that almost nothing can break. Danny Fenton dies screaming in pain, hoping for help that won't come. At the same time, Jason Todd dies with a scream caught in his throat, hoping for help that comes too late. Danny comes back to half life. Not even the boundary of death will stop Jason from doing the same

Danny did not remember much from the moments when he died. He remembered pain, a searing, burning, tearing pain that was impossible to put into words. He remembered green unlike he had ever seen before, a green that seemed to be more than just color as it pushed its way into his eyes, his nose, his throat. He remembered screams. One was his, but he couldn’t tell you which one it was. He remembered some small part of his mind, the only part not drowned out by green and pain and noise, praying and hoping and dreaming that someone would come and help him, to save him, to stop the pain.

Nobody came.

(That doesn’t mean nobody answered)

—

Jason remembered far too much about how he died. He remembered every broken bone, every maniacal laugh from a split, bleach white face. He remembered every thought and prayer and plea he sent to the shadows on the ceiling, that one of them would morph into Batman, into Bruce, into his father. He remembered how even as the timer on the bomb ticked lower and lower, and the shadows remained stubbornly unmoving, how he had still had hope. He remembered the fire and the force of the explosion, and he remembered his scream, channeling everything he could into calling out for help, for someone to save him.

Nobody came.

(That doesn’t mean nobody heard.)

—

Sam and Tucker had tried their best to calm him down afterwards, swallowing down their own horrified expressions to try and comfort him. They helped! They really did. But they didn’t know what was going on anymore than he did. They were lucky that his parents had gone out with Jazz when it all went down. If they had been home, there would be no hiding it. If they had been scheduled to come back soon, they would have noticed something.

Instead, the three of them had a few hours before anyone else would arrive at the Fenton house, and the few hours was enough for Danny to change back into himself (it was both relieving and horrifying that he could do that. A relief because that meant he wasn’t dead, right? But if he could do that, what did that make him?) and for his breathing to return to normal (Five breaths a minute was not normal, but anymore and he felt like he was panicking, gasping for air that he didn’t need. At least he was still breathing.)

His parents came home a little happier than they had been when they left, but their heads still hung low. Jazz didn’t look much better.

“So we have some good news,” Tucker said from his spot on the couch almost the moment they walked through the door. They had talked for a while about how to break the news to the Fenton’s. Danny had tried to convince them that he should be the one to say it, but he couldn’t get through it without his voice cracking and his body shaking. That, and his voice was almost gone, vocal cords screamed raw.

“We know that you said we weren’t supposed to go downstairs without you guys, but we were just so curious about how it worked, and we wanted to see,” Sam said. “Turns out, you forgot to plug it in! It’s working now.”

As Danny had expected, neither of his parents verbally responded to that, instead opting to run down to the basement, nearly walking over each other in their rush to get down the stairs. Jazz did not follow them.

“You three really shouldn’t have gone down there!” she stated, pointing at the three of them. “You especially, mister!” Her gaze landed on Danny, and he suppressed a flinch. “I know that Mom and Dad have always been lax about lab safety and all of that, but you should still know better than to go down to a potential electrical hazard without supervision. What if one of you had gotten hurt?” None of them could stop the looks they sent to each other, and Jazz didn’t miss them. Her gaze hardened further. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing serious!” Tucker said quickly. Too quickly. “Danny got a little shocked. But it was like, nothing more than static electricity type shock, you know?”

Jazz’s gaze softened just a little. “Are you ok?” Danny nodded his head. “Are you sure? How about mentally? Even a small shock can be traumatizing if it was in the wrong situation.”

“I’m fine, Jazz,” Danny said. He kept his voice soft, so the unhealthy rasp to it wasn’t noticeable. Her eyes softened as she reached over the back of the couch to hug him. He bit his tongue to suppress a flinch, and returned the hug the best he could at the awkward angle.

“I’ll trust you,” Jazz said as she pulled away. “Don’t make me regret that. Now, what do you want for dinner? I doubt Mom and Dad will be emerging from the basement any time soon.”

Sam and Tucker decided to stay for a dinner of chinese takeout from a place Sam chose. One of them was always pressed up against his side, always talking in easy, light hearted conversations. It was easy, to lose himself in the conversation, to not think about what happened to him.

It was less easy, when they both went home for the night. They had wanted to sleep over, but neither of them were able to get their parents to allow them on such short notice. (They both offered to sneak out and stay with him anyway, parents be damned. He told them not to. Amity Park was not a dangerous city, but they still shouldn’t be walking around alone in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t be safe. He needed them to be safe.)

Sleep did not come easily to Danny. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw blinding, burning, searing green. Every time he opened them again, his ceiling was illuminated with the same green, illuminated by a light that came from his eyes. It took hours for Danny to fall into an uneasy sleep, and he’s certain it will be full of nightmares.

It’s not. Instead, Danny dreams of a boy.

He looked to be just barely older than Danny, and just as scrawny, at least at first glance. His hair was black, with a single white streak towards the front, draping over his sleeping face. The weirdest thing about him was the outfit, all bright yellows, reds and greens, with a very noticeable lack of pants and an equally noticeable domino mask covering his eyes. In any other circumstance, it would have been an incredibly memorable, and likely concerning, outfit. But with everything that had been happening, it was so far down on his list of “Weird Things Happening Recently” that he barely even processed it.

He was much more distracted to find himself with snow white hair and the hazmat suit he had been wearing when- he stopped the thought there. He spent an hour trying to change back to himself, then panicking about not being able to, then calming himself down after he figured out that it was a dream. After all, what else could it be?

Danny would have started to explore the dream, or do literally anything else besides sit there, if there was anything else to do. All that surrounded him was an empty black void, broken only by the sleeping boy. Maybe there was something further away from the boy, off into the darkness, but Danny didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to leave him alone. The boy looked peaceful, but something in his chest insisted that he wasn’t, that something was terribly wrong, so Danny sat next to him, cross legged, and waited.

It was an odd dream, one that seemed to drag on for hours and hours. Danny awoke from it slowly. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, clearing the face that he had been staring at for who knows how long out of his vision. He didn’t recognize where he was.

Danny was wide awake in a heartbeat, sitting upright with a start, only to hit his head against the wooden beams mere inches above him. He muffled a cry of pain, reaching his hand up to his head, and taking stock of his surroundings. Now that he was more awake, he began to recognize bits and pieces of his room. He had somehow managed to get under his bed.

He tried to roll to the side, only to find that his leg was stuck. Danny’s eyes traced his leg in the not-quite darkness, finding it stuck in his bed. His breath caught in his lungs. It wasn’t stuck in the covers, or tangled in the boards of his bed frame. It went straight through all of them, as if they weren’t even there. He tried to pull his leg out from the bed, but it was completely stuck.

It took Danny the better part of 15 minutes to get his leg free. It didn’t calm him any when he did, seeing as he had pushed his leg through the bed, once again as if it wasn’t even there. He rolled out from the bottom of the bed, grabbing at his carpet and coughing away the dust that had accumulated under the bed. Danny scrambled for the phone, typing in Tucker’s number as quickly as he could with his shaking hands.

It had barely rung before Tucker picked up. “Are you ok? What happened?”

“I don’t even know,” Danny said, his voice shaky, his words coming to fast. “I woke up under my bed with my leg stuck through the mattress. I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll figure it out. I can get my parents to pick you up if you don’t want to walk. I assume your parents won’t mind?”

Danny didn’t even need to check where his parents were; he could hear the sound of them clanging around in the lab downstairs. (He could hear the whirring of copious amounts of electricity. He could hear the swirling sounds of the portal. He could hear Jazz shifting in her bed in the next room over. He shouldn’t be able to hear all of this.) “Yea. Call Sam?”

“Of course man.”

—

The day was long, and hectic, but Danny was able to keep himself from falling through anything solid for the whole day. Tucker had offered to let him sleep over his house to try and help him, and while Sam’s parents had vehemently refused, she had promised to sneak out sometime during the night to hang out for a while. So when Danny fell asleep that night, it was in a sleeping bag on Tucker’s floor, closer to sunrise than sunset, with the soothing sounds of Doom’s start up menu playing in the background.

Danny dreamed of the boy again. This time, he didn’t panic over his hair or his outfit. He didn’t bother trying to look around the area to figure out where he was. He didn’t bother with much of anything besides settling into the same place he had taken last night. Knowing that this was a dream, that none of this was real, made it far easier for him to put aside the parts of him protesting that this was wrong. It didn’t need to make sense, didn’t need to be right, since none of it was real.

(It allowed him to write off the vibrations coming from just below his chest, tucked behind his ribcage, as an oddity from his dream. It allowed him to excuse the soul deep satisfaction that staying vigil by the boy’s side filled him with. Dreams were weird. This one was no different.)

The hours passed slowly, at least for a dream, but Danny didn’t mind it. The tranquility ended abruptly by the sound of Mrs. Foley’s voice.

“What are you doing down here?” Her voice cut through Danny’s dream, and he opened his eyes to see the Foley’s living room ceiling, with Mrs. Foley’s concerned face looking down at him. He sat up quickly, looking down at himself. None of his limbs were stuck through the floor, which was a good thing, and the couch was next to him.

“Uhh…” Danny fumbled through his sleep-addled brain for a believable lie. “I didn’t feel like sleeping on the floor, so I slept on the couch instead. Fat lot of luck that did me?” Danny gave an awkward laugh. Relief flooded him when Mrs. Foley joined in.

“I think that we have a yoga mat in the attic somewhere,” she said, helping Danny to his feet. “If it’s an issue next time, I’m sure one of us can find it. We don’t need any more tripping hazards in this house!” She made her way into the kitchen. “I’m thinking of making pancakes for breakfast. Let Tucker know that if he’s up and ready in the next 10 minutes, I’ll make bacon for him too.”

Danny gave a quick thumbs up, before scurrying back to Tucker’s room, directly above where he had woken up. He was lucky; he didn’t want to know what would have happened if he had been found on the kitchen floor. Or worse, halfway through the kitchen ceiling.

Tucker was, as Danny had expected, still passed out on his bed, drool gathering in a little puddle on his pillow and blankets tangled around his feet. And the bed posts, somehow. Danny didn’t bother trying to wake him up quietly. Nothing short of an earthquake would wake Tucker up. And maybe the promise of bacon, but that was more a “stay awake” bribe than a “wake up” bribe. So Danny did what he’d done at almost every sleepover he’d had with Tucker over the years. He climbed up on the bed and started jumping.

The bedframe creaked protestingly at Danny’s weight, the mattress shaking violently beneath him. Still, Tucker didn’t stir. Danny jumped harder, and higher, putting more force into each of his bounces, determined to get Tucker out of bed. Tucker rolled over in his sleep, grabbing the non-drool soaked pillow and flipping it over his head. That was a good sign; just a little while longer and-

Danny’s feet didn’t touch the bed. They didn’t touch anything. He just hung, suspended in air, hovering over Tucker’s bed. He’d gone ziplining before, knew how it felt to be strung up, still feeling the tug of gravity even as you’re safely tucked in a mess of lines and harnesses. He’d been in a low gravity chamber, once, when he was little, and that still didn’t seem comparable to this. He couldn’t describe it. He’d never experienced anything like this before.

(That was a lie. He remembered when he couldn’t get himself to the ground right after the portal. He didn’t think about that. He wouldn’t. But the memory brought with it a scream echoing in the back of his head, in the back of his throat, and it took all his power to bite it back down.)

Tucker sat up in the bed, rubbing at his still closed eyes, hair pointing every possible direction. “And here I thought you’d never give up,” he said through a yawn.

“Tucker,” Danny said, voice nothing more than a panicked, strained whisper.

“Mhum?” Tucker mumbled. Finally, he opened his eyes. He wasn’t able to suppress the yelp of surprise, before he clamped his hands shut over his mouth. Slowly, he removed them. “How are you doing that?”

“I don’t know,” Danny hissed. “I don’t know how to stop doing it either!”

“You’re not going to like, drift away or anything? Because I don’t know what I’d do if you started floating away like a lost balloon.”

“I don’t think so?” Danny said. He gave a hesitant spin in the air. It was easy. Far easier than it should have been. “I think I can control it ok? Maybe if I just…” He moved over to the side of the bed so that he was hovering over the floor, and slowly started to will himself to the ground. It worked, his descent slow, controlled. And then his foot met the floor, and kept going.

Danny froze with the floor up to his ankle. “Tuck…” The two of them met eyes. Tucker drew in a sharp breath. He reached out with one hand, grabbing onto Danny’s shoulder. His grip tightened when his hand didn’t phase through Danny’s shoulder, grabbing tightly and pulling. Danny’s foot came out of the floor, and the two of them stumbled back. This time, Danny didn’t slip through the floor.

Danny blinked back panicked tears. “What’s wrong with me?”

Tucker was silent for a moment. “I don’t know. But we’ll figure it out, ok? You’ll be ok.” Danny nodded.

“Boys! If you want bacon, you have two minutes to get your butts downstairs!” Mrs. Foley’s voice called out from downstairs. Tucker and Danny shared a look. They’d figure it out. Right now, bacon was more important.

—

Over the next few weeks, Danny’s life only got more and more chaotic. He’d had to go home after spending the night with Tucker, mostly because Danny couldn’t get a hold of his parents over the phone. He wasn’t surprised at that; he doubted they’d come up from the lab since the portal turned on, doubted that they’d even slept since then. They wouldn’t stop their research for something like the phone ringing.

(They wouldn’t stop their research for him.)

It was lucky, in some ways, that they stayed sequestered away in the basement over the next week before school started back up, because Danny’s powers had only gotten progressively worse. He had taken to using straws and only straws whenever he got a drink, to minimize the amount of time he was holding the glasses. He’d deep cleaned the bottom of his bed, pulled out the old hoodie and battered up shoe box of model parts he’d had spares of. It was uncomfortable to wake up every night in a pile of dust and junk every night, especially when he still had to wrestle various body parts out of his bed frame.

The only part that had stayed consistent and peaceful since the “accident”, as Sam, Tucker, and he started calling it, was the dream. It was always the same; the boy sleeping, the darkness, comforting in its completeness, and Danny, keeping watch over him. After the third night, Danny started to talk. It wasn’t quite to the boy; that would insinuate that the boy could hear him, and Danny didn’t think that he could. Even if he wasn’t talking to the boy, he was talking at him.

It was never anything serious, at least to begin with. It was little details, about Danny’s life, his friends, his family. Once school started back up, he talked about classes and teachers, about Dash.

And then the ghost animals started coming through, and Danny’s dreaming rambles became a lot more serious. He had talked about it with Sam and Tucker, of course, but he couldn’t tell them everything. He couldn’t tell them about the sensation in his chest, so cold it burned, when the two of them had been in danger. He couldn’t tell them about the fear that was gnawing at him from the inside when the creatures scratched him and he bled the same color they did. He couldn’t tell them about how the newly functioning Fenton Thermos always seemed to draw him in too, when he used it. He couldn’t tell them how scared he was about what it all meant.

(How was Danny supposed to say that he thought he had died? That they had watched him die? His heart still beat, he knew that much. He tested it himself, when he was awake. But he was like these creatures, and these creatures were dead. What did that make him?)

The boy did not move during any of the nights. He just slept on, with an expression far too peaceful on his face. The boy listened, even if he didn’t react.

(The boy hadn’t always listened. Danny didn’t know why he knew, with such undying certainty, that the boy was listening now. But he was. Danny was sure of it.)

Maybe it was because it was the only sense of routine that Danny had anymore that made him not tell Sam and Tucker about it. The reasoning sounded like something Jazz would say, which tended to mean it was at least somewhat correct, even if it was annoying. It wasn’t that Danny didn’t trust the two of them about it, but every other part of his new powers was something that the three of them had spent picking apart. They had spent hours trying to figure out how they worked and how to control them, and Danny was incredibly grateful. He didn’t know how he’d go through it alone. But the dreams…

They seemed intimate in a way he couldn’t describe. Personal. He didn’t want anyone else to go poking around the dreams, didn’t want anyone to disturb them or the boy that slept inside of them. They were just dreams, after all. What harm could they do?

It was the night after the Lunch Lady fiasco. Danny had gone to bed with a nasty bruise on his side and an existential crisis a mile wide. He’d never seen a humanoid ghost before that. He’d never been recognized as a ghost before, especially not by someone who would, presumably, have that same “ghost sense” that he did.

Danny laid back in the darkness, hovering next to where the boy laid. He spoke softly, even as his thoughts ran away from him. It was hard to panic, next to him.

And then the boy sat up, and panic suddenly came a whole lot easier.

---

@maddoxarcane @justhauntley @silicon-puppy-pudding @isis-

I won't be doing a tag list past this first chapter. I'll be tagging it on my blog as ODWTS, and am aiming to post updates every other Wednesday. We'll see how that goes.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #dead on main #dead on main ship #jason todd/danny phantom #jason todd/danny fenton #soulmate au #ODWTS #dc x dp #dc x dp fic

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whos-orion · 6 months ago

Text

Risk (2/4)

Summary: She’s gone. Omega fell over the catwalk ramp, after shooting Hemlock herself. Hunter hardly knows what to do with himself. He failed her. Omega feels what death is like. Or…is it really even death?

Word count: 1003

Notes: part 2 of Risk! Go read pt 1 first to understand what’s going on (and if you want more sad). Also, if you would like to be on the tag list for pt3, reply or reblog letting me know!

Part 1

It was cold. Cold and painful. That was all Omega felt. Was this some sort of afterlife? Stuck in eternal suffering? She couldn’t see anything. Just an abyss of nothingness.

She felt something else now. Something through all the pain. It was faint, granted, but she felt it. The occasional drop of water on her face. Like rain. There was rain when she fell. How could she forget? Maybe that’s what death was like. A black void with nothing but small reminders of how it happened. Well, except for the pain. It was spiking throughout her entire body, lighting up every nerve. It hurt. It really did. It was strange, in all honesty. Omega had heard people say that death is when pain stops, that death is the escape. But here she was.

In pain.

Hunter walked through the thick jungle of Weyland, using his vibroknife to cut through any thick plants or vines. Previously, he had met up with Echo and Wrecker in the hangar of Mount Tantiss. After…what happened on the catwalk. Wrecker was badly hurt, so Echo took him and the rest of the clones they’d freed onto a shuttle. There hadn’t been many. Echo said there was a fight between them and the operatives. Not many made it out. Crosshair went with them as well. His hand, or where it used to be, needed treatment. And he couldn’t take much more. Between being back at Tantiss and…the catwalk, he needed rest. Hunter did, too. But he refused to take any. He needed to find her. He wouldn’t allow her body to rot away in the jungle of the place she hated most, especially with Hemlock. No, he needed to find her. And, even though he knew it was impossible, he had just a sliver of hope that she was alive. But hope was hope, and it was all he had.

He kept walking through the jungle, quietly as not to disturb any creatures that might be nearby. He remembered the giant creature that slashed at Wrecker, and how he hadn’t noticed it until it was too late. It was clear his senses were off. He needed to be on guard if he was going to make it through the jungle, or to find Omega, for that matter. He knew everyone was waiting on a shuttle to leave as soon as he got back. So he had to be careful, but quick. He didn’t want anyone staying here longer than they had to.

The pain hadn’t gone away. But Omega’s head had cleared up a little. It didn’t hurt as much now. She could feel something slipping away. But what exactly it was, she didn’t know. She was already dead. What did she have left to lose?

Death was uncomfortable. Omega wondered if she would have to be like this for the rest of eternity. In pain. In sorrow. Left alone with her thoughts.

She felt something new, now. Like movement. She felt what used to be her arm shift just a bit. Strange. It was the arm that was cuffed to Hemlock. She heard a noise. A groan of pain and discomfort. Something was wrong.

She wasn’t alone.

Hunter moved over a rock, careful not to slip. It was still raining, but not as hard as it had been. His movements were slow, his energy drained by all that had happened. He kept scanning the jungle for any sign of Omega. Anything. He needed to find her. He had been searching for hours now. Nothing. Hunter heard his comm device beep. He pressed a button on it to let the transmission through.

“Hunter, it’s Echo. The other clones here are getting restless. We have to leave.”

“I can’t. I haven’t found Omega.” Hunter heard Echo sigh through the device.

“Hunter. I…I’m sorry. I really am. But we both…we both know she’s gone.”

“Even so, she doesn’t deserve to rot away here.”

“Hunter, we have no other choice. We can’t stay here any longer. Besides, the Empire will be showing up soon to see what’s happened here.” Hunter stood in silence for a moment. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to leave Omega’s body somewhere in this jungle. But he knew what needed to be done.

“Alright. Heading back to the ship now.”

Omega felt the movement near her arm continue. It was strange. Could she feel such things in death? She heard another wince. And then something like…crying? It was a familiar voice. But not a good familiar. The crying stopped and Omega felt all movement stop. Whoever she was hearing had clearly noticed something. Now she felt like she was being dragged. Not a good thing, considering how much pain she was already in. She groaned and winced as she felt the pain get worse again. The movement stopped a second time.

“You’re alive.” She heard a voice say. Oh. That’s where she knew the voice. It was Hemlock’s voice. What was he saying? Was he talking about her? Was it really him? And how was she hearing any of this? She was supposed to be dead. So was he. Omega felt herself being moved again. The darkness around her began…fading away? She couldn’t properly see anything, but there was a ton of green and blue and white around her. She was turned by whoever was there, presumably the one with Hemlock’s voice, and saw a fuzzy silhouette in front of her. Her vision stabilized, and realized it was Hemlock. She gave a small gasp before coughing and feeling a sharp pain…everywhere. Everything hurt so bad. She blinked and looked around. She was in the jungle on Tantiss. Still cuffed to Hemlock. He looked at her with something like concern behind his eyes. He was clearly injured, burnt skin visible through his uniform on his shoulder. That must’ve been where Omega shot him. His arm looked broken. But, sadly, not the one attached to Omega. He was here. With her.

And both of them were alive.

Part 3 Part 4

34 notes · View notes

honeyhotteoks · 2 years ago

Text

into the aurora - chapter thirty (ot8)

chapter thirty: always hold me close

chapter summary: it's getting harder and harder to ignore the things you've been keeping to yourself, so you do what you have to do and stay busy, and mingi does his best to help.

warnings: allusions to anxiety and depression, unhealthy coping mechanisms, plus some smut because you know who else would we be lol - specific warnings for: heated make outs, fingering, tender / emotional sex, praise, some light dirty talk, big dick mingi

pairings: ot8 x reader

genre: fluff, angst, romance, ateez ensemble x reader, polyamory, non-idol!reader, fem!reader, smut

word count: 6.7K

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Staying busy has always been a skill of yours, but after years of compartmentalization, you’re somewhat of a refined expert at it. As the calendar dates flick by, you adjust and adapt accordingly, pushing yourself deeper and deeper into work and social commitments to keep your mind busy. Dating eight men provides an almost constant buzzing distraction, but as they fall further into their own work in preparation of what’s to come, you need to start keeping yourself busy and your mind tired.

But even still, you’re reaching a particular kind of exhaustion that does very little to quell the sinking feelings in your chest. The tight anxiety and flood of memories. All of it mixing together in your body to try and tug you backwards in time. You’re accidentally nodding off in Hongjoong’s studio in the middle of the day when someone finally notices.

The sound of the door clicking shut properly startles you and you jolt back awake, your computer slipping off your lap and connecting with the floor.

Hongjoong jumps too and makes a surprised noise, yanking off his headphones, “Oh, god, okay, it’s just you,”

“Sorry,” You exhale low and slow to settle your hammering heart, “I didn’t mean to scare you,”

He nods, setting down his things and shutting the door before collapsing into his chair, “It’s fine,”

“I guess I drifted off a second,” You pull your laptop up off the floor and make sure everything’s in one piece.

“Mm,” He nods, “Did you not sleep well?”

“I’m fine,” You brush off his concern.

He looks at you a moment and then says,“You do look tired, darling.” He leans forwards, resting his elbows on his knees with his hands loosely clasped together.

In the dim light of the studio you take a good look at him and shake your head, “So do you,”

He nods, rubbing a hand over his bare face and through his hair, “Yeah, I guess I am tired,”

He rarely admits it and you push yourself up in your seat, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” He murmurs, “I’m just ready for the break, we all need it,”

You chew the inside of your lip, watching him carefully, “You’ve all seemed a little tense this week. Is something going on with schedules?”

“It’s always like this before a break,” He explains, “even though it’s just a few days off… we’re all just ancy to get there. If anyone’s a little irritable, don’t take it personally.”

“You miss home,” You observe quietly, a knot tightening inside you.

“Yeah,” He breathes, “I really fucking do,”

They rarely talk about home. You know they talk to their parents and siblings often, but it’s rare that they share it quite like this. You know it hurts, you understand it more than they know.

“Joong,” You reach for him, giving his hand a squeeze, “we’ll be there soon,”

He takes a sharp inhale and clears his throat, blinking away the emotion and giving your hand a squeeze back before he drops it, “I know,”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You press him just a little more.

He shakes his head, “We’re used to it, don’t worry about us.”

“I always worry,” You murmur.

“Don’t,” He sighs, “we’ve been taking care of each other since before debut, we’re good at it. It’s just a tough week,”

You open your mouth to say something more, but he shakes it off and looks at you again.

“Besides,” He points out, “You’re dead on your feet. We should be bugging you to get some rest,”

You give him a tight smile, “I’ll stop bugging you if you stop bugging me?”

He laughs sharply and holds up his hands, “Fine, but good luck getting the others to abide by that,”

You stretch on the sofa and sigh, “I have too much work to do anyways,” you murmur, “sometimes I can’t believe how tight the deadlines are for albums that aren’t coming out for another eight months,”

“Welcome to my life,” He commiserates with a grin.

“Yeah,” You shrug, “and I’m helping Maddox with something new,”

“You are?” His eyebrows go high, “He didn’t mention that,”

You nod, “I had a little time last week and he asked me to listen to something, but it’s becoming a bit of a pet project,”

“Oh,” His face remains neutral, but you know he’s curious.

You and Maddox don’t spend much time together, just existing in the same circles in the Edenary bubble, but he’s kind and friendly just the same. When he asked you to listen to something, it was pretty clear he was just trying to make sure you didn’t feel excluded from a conversation he was having with the other senior producers in front of you. At the time you hadn’t expected for him to actually ask and consider your opinion, but here you are.

“Relax,” You smile, “it’s just the new single you already know about,”

“Ah,” He nods, “and you’re looking at it?”

“Yeah,” You smile, “he seemed to like my notes,”

He grins wide, any momentary flicker of jealousy passing, and instead he’s looking at you like you just solved world hunger, “That’s exciting,”

“I thought so,”

“Baby,” He leans forward, “is it weird to say I’m really proud of you?”

“No,” Your chest swells with warmth.

“Well,” He reaches for your hand, “then I’m really-”

A sharp knock on his door brings you both back to reality and he shifts back in his seat immediately, flipping his laptop open and refocusing. You follow his lead, and he glances at you once before calling through the door, “Come in,”

Chae pokes her head in, “Have you seen y/n?”

“Hey,” You answer for him, “do you need me?”

“There you are,” She smiles, “yeah, can I get your help? If I’m not interrupting,”

“No, no,” Hongjoong shakes his head, careful not to look back at you with too much familiarity.

“Perfect, thanks,” Chae looks back to you, and her eyes narrow a little, “let’s get a coffee first,”

You must look exhausted. You agree, making up some excuse about a late night editing, and you can see it all over Hongjoong’s face that he wants to ask if you’ll be around later, but it’s not the moment. Pulling away and refocusing on Chae and what she needs, you push yourself back into the motions of your day. You do what you do best, and you stay busy.

Later, you can’t stop thinking about your eight lovers missing home. You picture them happy and healthy, surrounded by their families, their friends, their futures, and you’re suddenly itching for a change of pace. You need something to draw your focus away from these spiraling thoughts, something that will take your mind away completely and leave you aching for sleep.

It takes a second for you to decide what you need is to text Ji-Ah, letting her know you’re coming to tonight’s class after all. You slip out of the company right at five without a word to anyone, just sending a quick courtesy text to let your boys know you’re going to class, and then you get moving.

You feel good during class, clear and sharp on the endorphin rush, and even after Hana dismisses everyone you keep your body moving and committed to the singular quiet you get with your boxing gloves on. There’s only so long you can push yourself though, and eventually your side flares hard with a sharp spike of pain, a stitch in your side that leaves you wheezing. You step back from the heavy bag to lean back against the padded wall of the gym, finally pushing off your gloves. Your thighs are burning, arms feeling like jelly, and you slide down the wall to find your water bottle and settle your aching side.

“What are you still doing here?” Ji-Ah asks as she exits the back office and sees you on the floor.

You cough lightly and take a swig of water, “I just wanted to work on something,”

“Class ended like an hour ago,” She checks her watch to confirm and narrows her eyes at you.

She’s not wrong, the jiu jitsu class did end an hour ago, and was the last formal class of the day, but the boxing gym is always open for a couple hours after the final class for anyone who wants open mat time. Tonight you’re the last one here, and despite your aching limbs, you don’t really feel ready to go home yet.

“Yeah,” You shrug, attempting to keep it light, “I know,”

“You’re being weird,” Ji-Ah comes closer.

“I’m not,” You take another drink, your chest finally feeling less tight.

“You’ve been here four times this week,” She points out, “and you’re working out double,”

“You wanted me to come,” You laugh, “I’m sorry I like it?”

Ji-Ah bites the inside of her cheek, looking you over, and it’s readily apparent to you that she’s seeing through your attempts at brushing her off. She grabs a clean towel off the rack to your side and tosses it down at you, “You’re working out like you’re in professional training, which is stupid. Is something going on?”

“No,” You shake your head, but you answered too quickly.

“Okay, so, yes,” She rolls her eyes, “is it work? I know I’m on the choreo side but you know, I can listen. I listen to Chae complain all the time,”

“Work’s fine,” You shake your head again, “it’s busy, but I think it’s always going to be busy,”

“Definitely,” She nods.

You sigh heavily and brush the sweat off your brow with the towel, “I don’t know, maybe I’m just looking for a distraction.”

“You should probably pick a distraction that isn’t going to blow your shoulder out,” She reaches out a hand to help you get up and you take it with ease.

“I know,” You let her haul you up, your legs feeling tingly from overuse.

“Seriously,” She squeezes your hand before letting it go, “you can talk to me if you need to. In Su isn’t hanging around again, is he?”

“No,” You smile, “I haven’t seen him since Yeo- you and I talked the first time,” You recover, your stomach flipping nervously.

She misses it, “Okay, well that’s good, but if there is something… I’m here,”

“Thanks, Ji,” You murmur, “I’ll let you know if I do need something,”

“You better,” She nods, “now please get out of here and get a shower,”

“Okay, okay,” You smile.

She jogs off, throwing a look over her shoulder at you before she hits the lockers and you’re left alone in the dim lighting of the gym. You want to keep going, the way your mind goes completely quiet when all you’re focused on is the bag in front of you, but you know your body won’t keep up.

It doesn’t take you long to clean up and pack up your things, but now that you’re ready to walk out, you don’t want to go home. You’re not ready to be alone with your thoughts, to have empty air to fill with nothing but memories of where you were this time four years ago.

It’s only nine.

is everyone home? - You shoot off a text to the group chat and wait, your leg bouncing nervously as you wait for anyone to answer.

headed there now - Wooyoung responds, and then follows up quickly - mingi and yeosang are still at the studio for a bit

You reply with a simple heart emoji, and just like that your plans change for the night.

You divert your ride to the studio office smoothly, knowing that this late it’s extremely unlikely anyone other than Mingi and Yeosang and their managers who already know about you are there. It doesn’t take too long to get there thankfully, but by the time you make it into the building you’re overflowing with nervous energy.

When the elevator doors finally open to let you out into the studio, your mind immediately quiets. Yeosang is sitting in one of the spare chairs, dripping in sweat and drinking as much water as he can in one gulp, and Mingi is still up and facing the mirrors, focused on a particular series of movements for an upcoming performance.

“Hey,” You wave, and Mingi jumps a little, having not heard you when you came in.

“Hey, babe,” Mingi’s breathing hard, grinning, “what are you doing here?”

“Woo said you guys were here,” You offer, skirting what you really need with ease.

“Did you want to come home with me?” Yeosang pushes himself to stand, “I’m heading out after a shower,”

“Oh, you’re leaving soon?”

He nods and towels off before heading towards you, “I have an early pre-recording tomorrow,” he explains, “I need to get home and sleep,”

“Got it,” You smile, “I think I’ll stay… if that’s okay with you, Mingi?”

Mingi nods, and Yeosang shrugs as he takes another long sip of water.

“Well,” You brush Yeosang’s arm with your fingertips, “I’m sorry I missed you today,”

“Me too,” He pulls you in, kissing you soundly and smiling against your lips, “but I’ll be around tomorrow night,”

“Okay,” You peck his lips again, “sounds good,”

He jogs out a moment later, smiling and throwing the towel over his shoulder so he can head to the locker room, and you wait until he’s fully out of sight for long enough before you let the tense knot inside yourself break.

“You can come back with me,” Mingi says, not looking directly as you as he searches for a water bottle of his own, “I just want to work on-”

His words cut off hard as you rush into his arms, colliding with him and ducking your head into his chest.

Mingi makes a soft noise of surprise, brushing a wide hand over the back of your head, “Whoa, whoa, what’s going on?”

You can’t say it, not yet, if you say it now you’ll break down entirely and this is not the time or the place, so you settle on some version of the truth. With a shake of your head into his shirt you swallow hard, “I’m stressed,” you manage.

“Did something happen?” He wraps his arms around you.

“No,” You sigh, “I’m just… tired, I needed you,”

He’s quiet for a second, brushing his fingers over your ponytail, “Is it something with Sangie? You seemed okay with him a second ago,”

“Not at all,” You assure him, shifting in his arms so you can rest your cheek on his chest and squeeze him tighter.

“Talk to me,” He murmurs, slipping his fingers under the bottom of your shirt so he can stroke your bare skin.

He needs some kind of an explanation for your sudden clinging, and you nuzzle into him, “I’m feeling… overwhelmed I guess?”

“Ah,” He murmurs, brushing your back a little higher, “Is that why you’re here?”

“Mhm,” You sigh into him, “everything’s just a lot today,”

“Everything?” He squeezes you.

“Yeah,”

“Do I need to be worried?” He asks softly, “Or do you just need a minute?”

“A minute,” You reply softly.

“Then I’m here,” He kisses your hair, “take a minute,”

You rest in his embrace, leaning your body against him and letting him support your weight, your mind finally silent in a way that you had been craving all day. You’re not sure exactly how long you stay like this, but eventually he cups either side of your face and draws your head up, “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

Yes. You’re so close to it, to sighing and let it pour out of you, but instead you just shake your head, “You just help quiet things down for me,”

He smiles, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks, “Oh,”

You sigh again, letting your limbs relax in his hands, and his eyes finally flick over you in earnest and realize what you’re wearing.

“Did you just come from the gym?”

“Yeah,” You nod, “I stayed late with Ji-Ah after class,”

“Wasn’t class at like six?” He observes. You forget sometimes how watchful he can be, how much he picks up on when everyone’s not looking.

“Also yes,”

“Were you working out that whole time?” His eyes narrow a little.

You shrug, gearing up to argue about how they do the exact same thing, running their bodies into the ground to keep in tip top condition and nail every single second of choreography.

He surprises you again though, “You really do need a distraction, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Well,” He steps back and shakes out his limbs, leaving you in the middle of the dance floor and heading for the speaker to the side wall, “if you don't want to tell me what’s bothering you, that’s fine, but I think I get it.”

You’re sure that he does, but you hold your tongue, waiting to see what he does next.

“I need to finish working on something,” He says, flicking the music back on, “and it’s driving me insane that I can’t get this, so I’m going to teach you.”

“Mingi,” You laugh, “I’m not really a dancer,”

“And?”

“I just don’t know that teaching me is really going to help you when I have no idea what I’m doing,” You shrug, “I don’t want you to waste your time just because I wanted a hug,”

“Okay first of all,” He smiles, picking up his phone so he can control the music, “I’m asking you for help,”

“You are?”

“Yeah,” He unzips the hoodie he’s wearing and tosses it across the floor of the studio, leaving him in a pair of black sweatpants and a charcoal gray sleeveless t-shirt, the deep dips of the arm holes leaving very little to the imagination. He smirks when he sees you staring, “Like something you see?”

“Shut up,” You break your eyes away from the perfect definition of his arms.

“Stare at me later,” He says, taking a step closer, “and help me with this.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to do,” You admit.

“Drop your stuff,” He nods towards the side wall, “and then we can help each other. I need to figure this shit out before we go home, and you need to forget about whatever is upsetting you.”

By the time you’re back in the middle of the studio floor with him, he’s in the zone. He’s focused and intense, watching a video on his phone of the BB Trippin choreography. You watch his eyes track the man wearing Mingi’s name on his chest, and then he sighs, handing you the phone.

“Okay, watch everything after the bridge,” He instructs.

You set up the video and let it play, watching as the choreography team slams out quick fire move after move. The intensity of the music building along with it.

“Shit,” You glance up at him, “this is intense,”

“Yeah,” Mingi nods, “and I keep fucking up the timing,”

You loop the video again and watch it, and then nod, “What can I do?”

“Let me talk this out,” He says, moving to stand in front of you, “if I break it down piece by piece for you it might start clicking,”

“Fine,” You pass the phone back to him and rub your hands together, “but you are not allowed to laugh,”

He grins, “I’ll do my best,”

You roll your eyes at him, and then together you get to work.

An hour later you kind of understand one section of things and have your body moving on beat. Mingi’s standing behind you now, watching you in the mirror intently and following along with your steps as he instructs. “That’s actually not bad,” He nods, “do that part again,”

You follow his earlier instruction again, trying to move your body in the way he explained and demonstrated, smiling back when you see his face continue to light up.

“Alright,” He stretches his arms back up over his head, shirt riding up at the bottom and revealing the taut plane of his stomach, “watch me,”

Your eyes flick over him as you settle back against the mirrors, and he seems pleased that you’re watching but doesn’t say anything this time around. You queue up the music for him and you watch. He’s nearly perfect, slipping up again on the one section he keeps making mistakes with and he curses under his breath.

“Alright, again,” He gestures for you to fix the track and you do. You know better than to push him to stop now, he needs it just like you needed the quiet earlier.

It takes four more run-throughs before he nails it, and three more after that until he has it down comfortably, and by the time he’s there, sweat is dripping off him and all you can do is watch the way it makes his toned arms shine as he moves.

“That’s good,” You tell him as he slows to a stop, “you look really good,”

He quirks an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

“Your dancing,” You clarify, even though he can see right through you.

He takes a step towards you, his eyes flicking purposefully up and down your body, “Are you saying that only my dancing looks really good?”

A smile bubbles out of you, “No,”

“What else looks really good?” He smirks.

“Mingi,” You sigh, but he’s closing in on you.

The studio is so quiet you could hear a pin drop, and he leans in close, bracing his hands on the mirror behind you until he’s fully enclosed over you with a self satisfied smile on his face, “You really like me, don’t you?”

Your heart thuds in your chest, but you can’t answer him.

“Cute,” His hand slips down your arm, “Why do you look so nervous? We’ve kissed before,”

“We’ve done a lot more than kiss,” You laugh softly.

“And you’re still getting all blushy with me?” He teases you, “I didn’t know I made you this flustered,”

Your stomach flip flops, “Shut up,”

“Tell me you think I’m hot,” He presses closer, your bodies almost touching, “I saw you watching,”

“You know how hot you are,” You brush him off as best you can, “you don’t need me to tell you,”

“I want you to tell me,” He shakes his head.

“Fine,” You straighten up, brushing your hands down his chest and pushing up on your tiptoes to meet his eyes a little better, “Mingi, you’re really, really fucking hot, and you’re driving me insane,”

He smirks, “Good,”

“Good-”

His lips crash against yours and you squeak against him, he’s all over you now, pushing you into the wall of mirrors and pulling you closer by the hips simultaneously. His hands are hungry and searching, his tongue insistent. Every thought that’s plagued you for the day suddenly dissipates. All you can feel is his mouth on yours, the way your body flutters under his touch, the feeling of his cock half hard and pressed into your belly.

“We can’t do this here,” You groan as his lips move down your throat, “someone could come in,”

“I know,” He cups your breast through your top and kneads the soft flesh in his palm, “I’m not going to fuck you in the practice room,”

He says it so bluntly you laugh and blink your eyes back open, “You’re not?”

“No,” He nips at your throat, “I’m going to take you home and fuck you,”

You curse softly, your hips rolling against him unconsciously.

“You want me that bad?” He chuckles.

You almost roll your body again, drag him back to your lips and beg him to fuck you here and now, but somewhere on this floor his manager is waiting and you know you can’t. You push him back, using the mirror behind you for some leverage and he stumbles back, a grin on his flushed face.

“Let’s go home,” You sigh, “I think you got the dance down.”

He laughs sharply, “Yeah,”

“Come on,” You put some space between you and start to pack up your stuff, “I’m sure everyone’s wondering where we are anyways,”

It takes him a second to relax, lose the start of his erection and be presentable enough to leave, but the electricity is still there and sparking between you. “They’re probably not,” He says finally, “they’re probably asleep,”

“True,” You murmur, seeing that it’s already past eleven.

“Let’s hope,” He quirks an eyebrow at you, and within a minute you’re on your way back to the dorms.

Everyone is not asleep though, quite the opposite. They’re all awake, crowded in the kitchen and living room, and you’re stuck being passed between all of them as they catch up on your day and get a little flirting in. The heat that had been bubbling insistently between you and Mingi fades as the night twists away from you, and you both silently decide on cold showers. Separate, very cold showers.

Even then, everyone’s still up. Only San and Jongho disappearing to play video games, but that doesn’t make the night feel any less busy. Seonghwa brings up break out of the blue, the idea off days off and childhood friends so close they can almost touch it. They’re excited, and you’re happy for them, but your head is starting to hurt.

Mingi takes you to bed quietly, pulling you gently away from the busy conversation the minute your mind starts to disconnect from where you are and start to wander backwards. No one blinks an eye, it’s so commonplace now that one of them would come to you and take you to bed, even if it’s just to sleep. You both wish everyone good night, and then you’re alone.

In your room, he peels away the layers of your clothing until you’re stripped bare and standing at the edge of your bed. You don’t have to talk, not with him. Mingi shrugs off his sweatpants and tosses his shirt to the side, his cock starting to stiffen as he takes a few steps towards you and brushes his hand along your bare back. When he looks at you like this, you could feel exposed and nervous, but you don’t have an ounce of self consciousness. No need to cover up or look away in giggled shame. Instead you hold his eyes and let it all fall away.

He dips down, and you think he means to kiss you, but instead he holds you steady with his wide hands on your back as he crouches, pressing a firm kiss to your breastbone. He sighs against your skin, pressing slow kisses across the tops of your breasts, and you thread a hand into his messy hair.

“You’re beautiful,” He murmurs, “let me take you to bed,”

The crackling intensity and teasing from earlier is gone, but inside this smooth tenderness you can barely breathe. You nod, brushing your hand through his hair again and again.

He straightens up and draws you towards the bed, easing you down into the covers and meeting you in the center of the mattress. You’re tucked close together like this, eye to eye with your bodies pressed against each other, and you’re suddenly reminded of your very first night together. The way he watched over you so carefully then, close just like you are now.

“y/n,” He says quietly, “whatever it is, let it go for tonight,”

You nod, releasing a shaky exhale and packing it back up for another day. It was only a moment of weakness.

“Mingi,” You drag your hand down his chest, feeling his abdominals stiffen as you drift lower, “touch me, please,”

“Mhm,” He hums, moving his hand from its resting place on your waist to the junction of your thighs, coaxing your leg up and open so he can slowly roll his fingers over your bud.

The comfort of it is immediate and you sigh pleasantly, dropping your forehead to his.

“Like that?” He commits to a rhythm and checks in again, “Faster?”

You shake your head against him and make a small negative noise, “No, just,” your breath catches, but you recover, “a little harder,”

His fingers respond in kind, increasing in intensity but never quickening.

You moan softly, dizzy at the heat suddenly drifting up your body, “Mingi,”

“Relax,” He murmurs, wrapping his free arm around your shoulders and easing you against him, softly urging you to release your tense muscles, “let it go,”

You wish you could. Words catch in your throat, but instead you reach for him and close your fingers around his wrist, tugging his hand away from your core and he leans back to get a good look at you.

“What?” He looks concerned.

“Can you just kiss me?” You reach for him, “Just for a minute,”

“Come here,” He wraps an arm around you, pulling you across the sheets until you’re pressed flush together, “I’ll kiss you all night if you want,”

Sometimes he makes you melt, like you might dissolve right into the bedding for him and only him.

Mingi nuzzles your cheek with his nose, pressing soft, deliberate kisses across your face until your eyes flutter shut. Everything with him is blissfully quiet, and you’re cocooned inside this space with him alone. He eases his mouth down against yours, slowly parting your lips and flicking his tongue along the underside of yours.

Moment by moment your body starts to relax, muscles that you didn’t even know were tense releasing until you’re boneless in his arms. He takes his time with you, kissing you lazily, his hands slowly stroking your skin and kneading the soft flesh. You can feel your body responding, fluttering heat through you and the slow build of wetness between your legs.

“Hmm,” He sighs against your lips, “you’re so soft, and so warm,”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” He murmurs as he breaks away from your mouth, “come right up here for me,”

You let him drag your body on top of his as he settles down onto his back, leaving you lying fully on top of him, his now fully hard cock trapped between your bodies. He rolls his hips once to feel some friction and sighs, reaching for you and brushing your hair away from your face, holding you softly above him, “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” You tell him honestly.

His eyebrows raise, “Nothing at all? While we’re like this?”

You smile at him, shifting over him until you’re straddling his hips properly and then you ease back down over him to press your lips to his, “All day I’ve been dying to think about nothing, I don’t mean it that way,”

“Ah,” He brushes your cheek and kisses you again, “so I’m helping?”

“You know you are,” You shuffle forwards a bit, sliding your body up so that his cock slots perfectly between your wet folds.

He groans, his hands finding your hips, “Babe,”

“Hmm?” You kiss him again, rocking yourself just a little on top of him.

“Again,” He squeezes your hips.

You rock more this time, grinding against his length and dragging your clit up and down his shaft, and you pant quietly against his mouth.

“You’re so wet,” He sighs, “just from kissing?”

“You’re a good kisser,” You tease him, letting your lips travel down his jaw and over his tender throat.

He hisses softly when you suck at his pulsepoint, his hands now helping drag you back and forth over his length.

“Mingi,” You moan softly as pleasure curls in your lower belly, “I want you inside,”

“Fuck,” He curses, “yes, god, whatever you want,”

You center your hands on his chest as an anchor and lift your hips high, and Mingi helps guide his cock to your entrance. You go slow, ease down his shaft inch by inch to give yourself time to adjust to his size again. He’s watching you carefully, taking stock of every microexpression and when you let out a little huff halfway down he closes his hands over your hips and holds you still.

“You okay?” He checks in.

“Perfect,” You assure him, “you feel just right,”

His hands soften and you let yourself lower down more still until he’s sheathed fully inside and your hips are resting comfortably back down on his. His brows are knit together, and you feel his cock twitch inside you as he soaks in the tight heat of you.

You push up and drop down experimentally, just an inch or two to test the feeling out for yourself and make sure you’re really ready to take him in earnest, and he moans tightly below you.

“Good?” You smile, dragging your hands down his chest and over his abs, your fingers ghosting over the line of hair that runs from his navel downwards.

“Mm,” He nods, blinking up at you, “you’re so tight,”

Slowly you start to circle your hips, gradually leaning your weight onto his chest again to begin a slow, steady bounce that drags him in and out of your aching body deliciously slowly. Your thighs are burning, overused from your hard workout and helping Mingi at the studio, but you push through the soreness to keep feeling his cock dragging over every perfect spot inside you.

He cants his hips upwards once, connecting your hips harder and you shudder, fingers tight on his chest, “Mingi, baby, I’ll come like that,”

“Good,” He snaps his hips up again, “I want you to,”

You bite down on your lip, pressing your eyes shut tight as you focus on the sensations of your bodies together. It’s slow and easy, but with every passing second the tension in both your bodies starts to build, sweat breaking out on your brow and blush coloring his chest pink.

He’s stretching you wide and deep, the push of him inside you making your body twist into the right spot for him to rake over your g-spot again and you moan tightly, “B-baby, you’re so fucking big,”

“Shit,” His hips stutter when you say it and your eyes flutter open.

You drop down fully over him, taking him back to the hilt and lock your hands over his where they sit anchored on your hips. You sit back up watching him carefully, the blush creeping up his neck now, his plump lips red and swollen from kissing, and he looks like he might come any second. He whines a little when you stop moving, and you smile down at him.

An insatiable need is sudden and singular in your mind, and you reach for the thread, ready to pull him apart if he’ll let you. “Do I not tell you enough, baby?”

He swallows hard, unable to answer.

“Don’t you know how deep you are inside me?” You maintain your grip on his hands and raise yourself up with just your legs, dropping down hard.

He groans, his nails digging into your hips.

“Don’t you know how full you make me?” You roll your hips back and forth and sigh at the sensation.

His brain finally seems to connect, and he shakes his head slowly beneath you, his eyes glued to yours, “Tell me,”

“Watch,” You tell him, nodding down and instructing him to look where his cock disappears inside you.

He looks immediately, and you press all the way up, drawing him almost fully out of your body before you drop back down with a whimper. He groans and bucks his hips but you hold yourself steady.

“Baby,” You shift his hand, dragging it over your body and settling it over your lower abdomen, “I can feel you everywhere,”

His fingers tighten over your belly, his head falling back against the pillows and his jaw sets tight when he moans.

“Mingi,” You sigh, resuming your pace as you bounce above him, “ah, fuck, Mingi, baby,”

He’s lost in the feeling of you for a minute, but at your cry he looks down and watches you, “God, look at you,”

You want to make him come, you know you can, but his cock is so steadily pulsing back and forth over the sweet, tender spot inside your walls and you know just a little more will roll you right over the edge into your own pleasure.

“P-please,” You push his hand down, “I’m- I need,”

“Shh, shh,” He murmurs, “I’ve got you,”

His thumb slides lower and finds your swollen clit with ease, and as you work your body up and down above him, he sets a steady circular pressure over your bud. You’re so close now, a trembling starting in your thighs and you bounce harder, taking him faster, firmer and deeper with every pulse of your hips.

“Mingi,” You whine, gripping onto his hand that still stays anchored on your hip.

“Oh fuck,” he huffs and you feel his hips start to buck up into you haphazardly, desperately looking for his own release.

“I’m so,” You bite down hard to keep from crying out too loudly.

“Come on beautiful,” He pants, “fuck me harder, come on my cock,”

“Ah, ah,” You head falls back and you focus on his words, the feeling of his thumb flicking your clit in earnest, and the taut cord inside you pulling apart at the seams, “I’m coming, I’m,”

You snap in his hands, the pace of your hips never slowing despite the sudden crash of your orgasm and he curses again below you, panting, and you know if you can just keep it up a little longer you’ll have him coming too.

Suddenly he groans and his next words nearly send you into a spiral, “Baby, say my name again,”

“Wh- oh, fuck,” Your eyes are pressed tightly closed as you try to keep going.

“Please,” He pants, “fuck, please,”

“Mingi,” Your voice stretches his name into a moan, your body overstimulated and trembling.

“God, again,” He groans, gritting his teeth, “say it again,”

You pull yourself back, looking down at him now as you ride him in earnest, both of his hands closing over your hips and helping drag you up and down at the exact intensity he needs. His mouth falls open when you lock eyes and you let yourself beg for him, “Mingi, baby,”

He makes a choked noise, his body locking up below you.

“Mingi, you feel so good,” You double down, “please, you fill me up so good, baby, Mingi,”

He releases sudden and hard, his head falling back as he slams your body down until your hips are flush together again, holding you in place as he comes hot inside you. He groans hard, his hips grinding up into yours as he lets the wave of pleasure pass through him.

When his body relaxes, you can feel that his mind is still slow and sluggish, but admittedly so is yours. You give him a dazed smile, and he pulls you down onto his chest again, rolling you both smoothly to the side so that he can hold you close but still leaving himself inside you.

You go to shift your hips back and draw him out, but he stops you, shaking his head against yours and gathering you close, “Give me a sec,” he manages.

You nod into his chest, quietly resting alongside him until he’s well enough recovered, finally pulling his softening cock free. He sighs, tugging your comforter up over your bare bodies and snuggles into you. There’s nothing to say, cocooned in his arms you finally fall asleep, your mind blissfully blank for the first time in days.

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oval3000 · 1 year ago

Text

"Hello" Ch.6

Simon Riley x Reader

Not my art! Not my characters!

After defeating Makorav, Simon went back home to enjoy his night rest. The next day he heard noises outside his apartment. When he went to see who was making those noises, by peaking through the eye hole on his door, he saw you. He never thought you would change his life forever.

!WARNING ⚠️ Terrible grammer, past abuse, abuse, smut, ptsd, trauma, swearing, Obsession, Possessive, death,boring story. Different story plot then the game (Makorav dead)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

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

Months has gone by. For Simon, it was torture. He wanted to see you. He missed you everyday. Eventually, Soap caught on that something was bothering him.

"Doing good, Lt?"

"Yes."

"You seem a little down."

"I'm fine Johnny."

"Gaz told me about your new place. So when is the home invite?"

"Soon." He didn't want anybody to visit. Not he's unsure about you. He loves you, obviously, but he doesn't if you're still a flight risk. What if he invited Johnny and you blab him how you're being held agiants your will. Simon can't have that.

As for you. You felt alone. Felt as if no one will ever see you again. You made what you can do with whatever you could. A truck will come by and drop off a box in which you would go and pick it up. You never interact with the driver, so when it first arrived it raised some concerns on your part. Turns out it was just a box full of groceries and necessities. Simon didn't want you to worry, he did say that he was going to take care of everything.

You have a simple routine. You would wake up get ready for the day, make food, clean, watch TV.

At night, it would just be you. You would turn to the side where Simon slept and imagined him there.

You hated yourself for feeling this way. He made you feel this way. You miss him. You miss his hugs, his voice. He made sure you would only rely on him and he did.

You needed him. He's the only one that can give you the satisfaction you deserve.

Your life outside the house is gone. You haven't been in contact with your family or friends. As for Jacob, your ex-boyfriend, he's no longer and will no longer be in your life or anyone's life. Simon made sure of it.

You miss them, you can't lie, however, your new life is here no where else. You did wanted to start fresh and new, you never thought this was what your new life would give you.

Your day would go on the same. Wake up, get ready, eat, clean, watch TV or draw whatever keeps your mind from going insane, sleep.

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

Simon felt light on his legs as he left the base. When he was told that it was time to go home, he didn't waste anytime.

He quickly drove himself into the neck of the woods. Going through the only pathway available. He got out of the vehicle, leaving his gear inside. He opened the door, "Y/n" he stood there until he saw you coming out of the shared bedroom.

"You're back." You ran to him.

Your legs moved on your own and ran straight to Simon. He saw the look on your face, the smile. The smile he worked so hard to gain again, like the first time you both met.

You hugged him. You hugged him tight. "Miss me, sweetheart?"

You nodded as he embraced you. Your head buried on his chest. You missed his scent. His touch.

He's right, eventually, you'll learn to love him back.

"I thought you weren't coming back"

"Of course I will. I did. I'll never. Ever! Leave you. Do you understand me?"

You nodded once again as he took a good look at you.

Your hand placed on his chest. His tumb on your chin while the other hand, wrapped on your waist. You felt his hand move away from your chin and into your, right, cheek. You felt the warmth of palm resting, comfortably, on your skin.

Simon noticed that there was something on your mind, "what is it, love? Tell me. What do you want?"

"I want you to kiss me, Simon. Please"

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

If someone told you months ago if you would sleep with your front door neighbor, you would've easily said no.

Times have change.

Simon grabbed your thighs and lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pulled you closer to him.

You felt his tounge, his touch, all of it.

The kiss was so deep and passionate, you couldn't help but to let out moans.

He wasn't rough, he was gentle. He placed you, gently, on the bed. His kiss trailed down to your neck. His hands pushed yours to the side, trapping you in.

He moved around your neck and up to your chin. His kisses were soft, it made your head fall back, arching your back a little.

He sat up with, unbuckling his pants. You sat up from hearing the noise of his belt and pants falling to the floor.

You couldn't deny that your were nervous. When he took off his underwear, you looked away.

"Don't be shy, sweetheart. All of this is yours" he took off his shirt, climbing onto the bed. "Just like all of you is mine." He lifted up your shirt revealing your bra. You felt his hands going down as he unzipped your shorts and pulled them down. He quickly went onto your bra and quickly unhooked it. When your bra slid down, your hands went up to cover your breast.

Simon grabbed onto your wrist pulling them away. "Don't cover yourself, love. I want to see you. All of you." He placed you back down with your hands above your head. He went down and left trails of kisses on your collarbone and chest.

You felt his mouth on your nipples, "ah..Ah...ngh..S-simon."

"You like that." He moved down on your area, pulling down on your panties, quickly tossing them to the side. He spread your legs wide and pushed your knees up to your chest. You felt the air hit your bare pussy. You bit your lips, stopping you from making too much noises.

"So beautiful." He went down, burying his face. "So perfect." His tounge went all over your lips and folds. "So good." His tounge went over your clit. "All mine."

He went in sucking on your clit, pushing his tounge deep inside you.

He felt his cock hardened as he felt your area leak.

He looked up and saw your hand covering your mouth. His eyes of lust became angry. He quickly went over you, grasping onto your wrist, shoving them away. His hand gripped on your face,"never. Ever! Cover yourself. I want to hear your voice."

He let go on his grip and went down. He rubbed your clit in circles, feeling it all wet. He pushed in a finger. Going in and out.

Your moans were music to his ear. He added another finger, but it didn't last long when you squirted all over his hand.

He hovered over you, your knees still up to your chest.

He inserted his cock inside you, pounding you.

You were so high on his touch, you couldn't see properly.

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

You felt your legs go numb as they shook, violently. Simon rested his head on your neck, catching his breath. His sweat mixing in with yours.

He kissed you deeply. "You did so good for me, sweetheart."

He moved your hair away from your face, kissing your forehead. He got up and went to the bathroom. You heard the shower head turning on.

He carried you, bridal style, onto the bathroom and into the tub. He got on after you sitting down at the end of the tub. He grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him, his legs spread out so you could lean on his chest.

He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly. You looked back at Simon "I love you."

He smiled at you, feeling that light in his heart glow ten times more. "Say it again."

"I love you, Simon."

"I love you too, love."

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

He saw your sleeping form. He could watch you sleep for hours. He missed you. He loves you and you love him back.

He was never letting you go. Ever.

#cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #fanfic #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #yandere simon riley #simon riley x you #yandere ghost #simon x reader #simon riley #ghost x you

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thisapplepielife · 4 months ago

Text

Written for a @astrangersummer.

The Remnants

Week #11 Prompt: Sunglasses | Word Count: 898 | Rating: T | POV: Karen Wheeler | Characters: Karen, Steve Harrington | CW: Prior Major Character Death (Unspecified Member of The Party) | Tags: Future Fic, The Party, Unnamed Character Death, A Look at Grief, At Loss, Steve Harrington is Still Their Babysitter Person, The Kids Are Home For A Funeral

Inspired by the song Pink Skies by Zach Bryan.

The kids are in town for a funeral.

Karen has been listening to them move around the basement, getting ready to go. She doesn't want to make them wait, not on her. Not today.

She's touching every surface in her kitchen, every counter, frantic. It doesn't make any sense. They were just here. She's sure of it.

She laid them out with her purse. She swore she did.

She's yanking open drawers, then slamming them shut, over and over.

"Can I help you find something?"

It's Steve Harrington, standing at the edge of her kitchen.

She's not surprised to see him, because the kids don't want anything from anyone, except Steve Harrington, and she's had to stand back and accept that this isn't something she can fix.

She can't make a pot roast, and let them run wild on their bicycles. Not now.

If Steve can ease any of this for them, in any way, she'll be grateful.

"My sunglasses," she says. They have to leave, and soon, but she can't go without them.

Steve pulls his own sunglasses out of his shirt pocket, and hands them over, "Until yours turn up."

Karen takes them, isn't sure what else to do, and lets him lead her to one of the waiting black cars. He's not a kid, not anymore, none of them are, even if she'll always see them that way.

Even as they have to go to a funeral.

After, Karen watches as Steve Harrington herds the remnants back through her house. All that's left of their little group. The Party. The fuss and fight gone out of them, now. The boys, and later, the girls, that trampled up and down her staircase, excited and loud, are now long grown. Men and women, somehow here in their places.

They haven't all been gathered together, not all of them, not in years. Maybe not since Ted's funeral.

Burying parents, that's the stage of life they've reached. It's a rite of passage that sneaks up on you, hard and fast, and often before you're ready. But it's the order of things, to be expected, even when it's a complete surprise.

But they shouldn't be burying each other. Not yet.

And now that they have, now that the seal is broken, they won't ever be whole again.

It's unfair.

Now, they're silent as they walk past the doorway, and don't even look at the growth chart they all spent so much time and energy trying to be the tallest mark on.

She listens to them go down the stairs, and maybe it's her imagination, or her failing hearing, but they still sound exactly the same as they did as kids.

Now, though, the noise stops too soon. One pair of feet too few.

She leans in the doorway. Listens. Hand touching the carved-on piece of wood. The growth chart on the door frame started as Nancy, then Mike. By the time Holly came, all these other kids had scraped their own right alongside her kids. Cheating, standing on tiptoes, so desperate to grow taller than each other.

The funeral was beautiful, but the kids are all pretty stoic. Like they didn't even notice. They aren't kids, not anymore. But they still feel like her kids, always will. All of them, and now one is missing.

They've had a practice run at this at twelve-years-old, but then they got a do-over. They learned to believe in magic, to believe in the impossible being possible.

She knows that won't happen again. This time it's for real. One of them is really gone, dead and buried, and they don't know how to act.

She doesn't know how to act.

She's still supposed to be the adult here. The mom.

They'd spread their wings. Flew far, and wide, but always flocked home, together.

She's pretty sure that won't happen again. They're cleaning the basement, clearing the drawers, mopping the floor. Steve's been up and down a dozen times, digging under the sink for cleaning supplies, then carrying up box after box, taking them out the front door, and she doesn't know where it's all going.

Just that it's already gone.

The basement, their safe space, can't go on with one missing. Won't.

So, they're closing up shop.

And she's having to watch from afar. Only getting kernels of secondhand knowledge from her daughter's ex-boyfriend.

It's a strange life they've all lived.

But once they got past that, she thought they'd made it. That they'd all be fine.

That she would eventually go first.

She wishes she could go back to the start. When Mike was so little, and just meeting Dustin, Lucas and Will for the first time. When they were just old enough to ride bikes down the driveway, and then later, out of sight. Not to be seen until the streetlights came on again.

Kids don't roam like that now. Her grandkids sure don't. Their parents, far too well aware of what can go bump in the night.

She listens.

It's quiet, too quiet, down there.

She misses the sounds of screaming, tumbling dice and curse words they weren't supposed to be saying, but did anyway when they thought they could get away with it.

She settles in her chair, and gets poked in the thigh. She reaches down, and her sunglasses aren't lost.

Just broken.

Just like everything else here today.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!

#a stranger summer #week eleven #prompt: sunglasses #stranger things #karen wheeler #the party #steve harrington #cw: major character death #cw: grief #cw: loss #cw: death #thisapplepielife: a stranger summer #thisapplepielife: short fic

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saintship · 1 year ago

Note

Hii. Saw your requests for Gaz post and of course I have to ask for something!

A neighbour Gaz fic/headcanon. Maybe him having a crush on reader and looking for ways to talk to her (neutral reader is fine too).

I havent seen any neighbour Gaz fics around here.

If not, a coworker Gaz slow burn would be great too!

Thank you 😊

I just read this amazing neighbor fic that might be what you’re looking for, and then I wrote a coworker slow burn here just so you have both concepts to read :)

Hope you like it!

Warnings: Slow build, hurt/comfort, kiss + confession, Graves cameo

Solid Copy - Gaz x Reader

FSS, M4, Fennec..

You leaned down to check each weapon's case, kneeling on the armory's concrete floor. Inventory wasn't the most exciting of the grunt work needed on base, but the repetition was nice. Not many others thought the same, however, always scrambling for a different assignment and leaving you with this one. That is, all except one Sergeant that you'd met your first day on site. Gaz happily paired up with you to stock or organize. You assumed he just needed a break from so many operations he'd been a part of that year, so many unpredictable events after one another. It wasn't often he caught a break.

It wasn’t the first time he’d had the kindness of joining you in a boring task, whether it be inventory, restocking, guard duty, or cafeteria, he always seemed to be there.

If anyone else had chosen to be around you so often, you might have been a little freaked out, but this was different, especially as the months passed and you were more familiar with everyone. A year passed by so quickly you hardly noticed it was that time again; that dead leaves littered the entrance and the wind blew colder every day. The first day there was snow, Gaz had found you on your break standing outside looking at it all. He teased you, but only to get you to turn your back so he could haul a snowball right at the sensitive nape of your neck. He'd ended up losing that battle, though he'd swear up and down for all his days it was a tie.

Two months with no deployments for the task force meant the return of those dull odd jobs. Tonight was cafeteria deep clean, a task out of many that you didn’t consider when you were enlisting. But Gaz was there, as always. You could hear him shuffle around, dropping things and making way too much noise as he cleaned the kitchen. A particularly loud crash caught your attention, your smile dropping to concern. You abandoned your mop, nearly slipping on the wet floor before vaulting the counter and looking around.

“I’m fine..” Gaz’s groan sounded from the back corner; he was pinned under a wooden palette holding an array of heavy steel pans.

“Oh- my god..” You rushed to lift the palette, thanking your weight training for your ability to push it up off Gaz’s leg.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing, it fell!” Gaz got to his feet, gesturing to the culprit.

“That thing is like 40 pounds, it didn’t fall.”

“Okay, maybe I was putting something back on the top shelf, which I can reach,”

“Jesus..” You kneeled to gather the pans that had fallen.

“And when I pulled back..” He trailed off, nodding to the mess with his hands on his hips. You looked up to tell him off again, but saw a large bruise forming below his eye.

“Gaz, your cheek..”

He huffed. “I’m not going red!”

“Will you shut up?” You stepped closer to feel the area, noticing his wince but not noticing the hitch in his breath.

“Are you dizzy?” You were close enough that you could speak quietly.

“No.. but, um, I think I’m hurt here too, you should check..” He directed you vaguely to his jaw, where a tiny bruise was barely visible.

You blinked, still lost at what his deal was, but examined it anyway. “I think we need to amputate.”

“Amputate my head?” A smile crept over his features, and now your breath was catching.

“Let’s just..clean this..”

“It was nice of you to check on me.”

When you looked up from where you crouched in the mess he’d made, he was grinning. You forced down the fluttering in your ribcage.

“Thought you’d gotten really hurt..” You placed a few of the pans back, and Gaz did the same until the floor was clear again.

“You were worried about me?” The teasing in his voice was clear as day; his embarrassment behind him.

“No. Just..whatever.” You slid back over the counter, mopping the rest of the floor without sparing a single glance. No matter how much you were dying to, especially when you felt his eyes burn into your back. You only turned when you felt the aluminum corner of a file poke your shoulder. You put away the cleaning equipment, taking the file from his hand.

“What’s this?”

“Emergency hostage rescue. Alejandro’s guys.”

You scanned the file as quickly as you could, shaking off the light feeling that seemed ridiculous now that you knew of this.

“Just the 141?”

“Backup is on standby, Price thinks the Shadows might show up and try to get the hostages first.”

“What does Graves want with Vaqueros?” You asked, looking up. Gaz only shook his head.

“Nothing nice, I reckon.”

Price leaned into the entryway of the cafeteria, slinging a rifle over his shoulder. “Wheels up in 10!”

“Aye, Captain!” Gaz chirped. You continued studying the file before filing it in your bag, accompanying Gaz to the briefing room. Your weapons and gear hadn’t even been stored since the last mission and you were already strapping all of it back on. The file hadn’t said much; there were at least a dozen Vaqueros being held against their will by a band of Hassan’s leftover soldiers.

“You’d think Hassan wouldn’t be able to give us any more grief with a bullet in his head.” Gaz grumbled as the both of you clambered into the helicopter.

“His men were young when he recruited them.” Price exhaled a breath of smoke, studying the horizon. “He preyed on the ones looking for a purpose. Teenagers love a revolution.”

“They won’t let his message die.” You finished quietly.

Gaz strapped into the seat beside you before raising a fist to connect with your own. “We will.”

The sun had risen fully by the time the heli touched the sand, the exposed terrain already heightening your awareness.

“Soap, Ghost, come in.” Price spoke into his radio.

“Opposite your position, descending the hillside. Target building in our sights.” Ghost replied.

“Wait there. Soap, get ready for your specialty.”

“Aye, sir. You spoil me.”

Price smiled. “Blow it up, Sergeant.”

“Engaging. Brace for debris.”

“How big is this bomb?” You asked.

“The entrance is built to hell, we need some serious force.”

Gaz leaned over to watch Soap plant the device from afar. “Sweet.”

“Planted.” Soap chirped. “L.T.’s got the detonator.”

Price waited until Soap was at a good distance before carrying the order. “Light it up, Simon.”

“With pleasure.”

The entrance erupted in a brilliant light, bits of steel flying in every direction. Gaz watched for a moment before drawing back quickly.

“Shit..”

“What now?” You tugged on his shoulder to angle his face toward you.

“I’m fine.” A shard of steel had glanced over his forehead, narrowly missing his eye.

“You’re lucky.” You retorted.

“Focus..” Price glowered over his shoulder.

“Yes, sir.” Gaz wiped the blood away from his brow and moved up, you on his tail. The five of you circled the entrance, noting the silence.

“It’s quiet.” Ghost huffed.

“Actual, this is Price. Can we get confirmation we’re alone here?”

“This is Actual,” Kate’s voice replied through the radio system. “Your old friend got here first. Move in now.”

“Fuckin’ hell.” Ghost’s words bit the air as he tailed Price, you and the rest following behind. The halls were narrow; only two could fit lengthwise as you moved past the damp walls. A bolted door led to a stairwell to the basement, where shouting and commotion could be heard.

“Stay neutral for now.” Price murmured. All guns were stowed as you descended the stairs, bringing up the back end of the line. You heard Graves before you saw him.

“You will fuckin’ listen to me, or you’ll be sprayed against that wall, do you hear me?”

“Graves.” Price’s voice leveled with a twinge of threat.

He turned; his eyes lighting up in surprise.

“Well I’ll be.” Graves murmured, stalking forward. His rifle dangled at his side as if it was a toy.

“I’m afraid you’re being overridden. SAS has business here, your club does not.” Price walked up so he was looking down at him, emphasizing his taller stature.

Graves barked a short laugh, looking away before glancing back, a fire in his eyes. “Shadow Company is an enterprise. A haven for men held back by the military!”

“You’re fragile.” Your mouth moved faster than your head; that much was clear when Graves’ sharp eyes shifted to you.

“You’re new..” His voice growled with something that made you tense. “And you’re American. How’s that work, huh?”

“I’ll ask once.” Price seethed, stepping forward even further. “Leave. Now.”

“No can do, Cap’n.” Graves cocked his gun. “These young men have to go. And then your little Vaqueros—are going with me.”

“Over my fuckin’ corpse.” Ghost rumbled.

“And what a sight it’ll be.” Graves retorted.

You made the first shot; striking Graves in the abdomen. A non lethal wound; just what he deserved, in your opinion. The room erupted in gunshots, ricocheting bullets, and the rustic odor of fresh blood. The shadows that were there were mowed down until the room fell silent again. You looked to Gaz, his usually bright eyes a dark ochre as he stalked toward Graves. He picked him up by his vest, ignoring his groan as he was pushed against the wall and bound at his wrists; just as he’d done to the Arabic soldiers.

“These men need to be arrested, not executed, you fucking lunatic.” Gaz seethed.

“You don’t know shit about this world, son.” Graves heaved, blood staining his teeth. “If they’re alive, they’ll come back.”

“Not your decision to make, Graves.” Price replied. “Maybe it would be if you were a soldier.”

“I am a-" Graves huffed, his shortness of breath betraying his anger. “I am..”

“Sergeant, save his life so we can go. Now.” Price nodded to you, and you kneeled at Graves’ side, packing his wound.

“Gaz, let’s go. Still need to find Alejandro’s guys.”

He cast an uncertain glance at Graves before releasing his vest, following the team up the stairs while you worked a length of gauze into the bullet wound you’d ripped through the man in front of you.

“Why aren’t you shooting me?” Graves’ adrenaline hadn’t worn off; he was hyperventilating harder still.

“It’s the difference between military,” you secured the bandage patch. “and you.”

His eyes looked glassy; his breathing only worsening.

“Graves, breathe.” You held his shoulder. “You’re not going to die.”

“You..” His eyes flashed with hurt, confusion, anger. Anger at you, at the military, at himself. He shook his head roughly like a wet dog, grunting. "Fuckin' hell.."

"You need to breathe deeper." You reached to loosen his vest, though he flinched away for a moment before resigning to the improvement the breathing room gave him. You could tell his thanks was on the edge of his tongue, his pride holding back any sign of agreement.

He looked down, and groaned at the sight; it wasn't a clean shot.

"Don't." You ordered, your knuckle knocking his head upward by his chin. "It's worse than it looks."

"You'd know your own handiwork, huh?" He heaved. "You should be in the Army."

"Fine where I am."

"You sure, honey? I'm short a few marksmen thanks to your friends."

“On your feet." You heaved him upward, and nearly jumped out of your skin when you turned to see Gaz still watching from the bottom of the stairs.

“Gaz?”

Before he could respond, Soap was guiding Graves up the stairs, leaving you with your strangely silent friend.

“Is something wrong?”

Gaz sighed, pacing behind you, causing you to turn.

“You helped him.” His tone was low.

“Yes? It was an order.” Your brow furrowed.

“No..” Gaz glanced up at you, a glare in his eye you’d never seen before. “You helped him calm down. You comforted him.”

His disdain dripped with every word.

“Gaz, he was in shock.” You retorted. “What are you so suspicious of?”

“That you care about him. You care about that piece of shit.” Gaz gestured vaguely.

“I barely know him; how did you jump to this?”

“I’m not jumping to anything, I saw you-"

“You saw me do my job!”

"That was not what that was.”

“Gaz, why do you care so much?”

“Because I care about you!”

It was the only time he’d ever, ever raised his voice at you. The first time you’d seen tears well in his eyes, even though he’d never let them fall in front of you.

“If he were to lay a fucking finger on you, I-" Gaz tensed his fists, his eyes closing and his brow gathering in a frustrated pattern.

“I don’t.. " You stared, speechless. “Gaz..”

“Moving out, everyone to extraction.”

“I’m sorry.” It was all Gaz left you with before brushing past you and up the stairs.

The walk and flight back, the debrief, the morning after in the cafeteria, he didn’t even look at you. His dark circles deepened, he didn’t eat, he didn’t go out with Soap to the pub near base. And of course, when other people noticed, they asked his closest friend what was going on; you. And then you were the one avoiding mealtimes and celebrations, because you couldn’t help them with their questions.

You missed him desperately; your tasks without him were dull and never ending, the entire time your mind only on one man.

Eventually you decided to accept Soap’s invitation to drinks; you needed to break the cycle you’d fallen into. You didn’t even dress up, sticking to the lighter layers of your uniform and a nice necklace to lighten it all.

The base was lucky to have such a cozy spot close by; most of the patrons were soldiers or veterans too. There were rumors of the bartender being Price’s placement instructor, but the Captain never indulged to confirm or deny.

You were a bit late, speed walking through the entrance over to the booth where Soap and Ghost were playing cards. You slid in next to Ghost, eyeing the bar where you saw Price, and next to him, Gaz.

“What’s with the kid, anyway?” Ghost leaned down to murmur in your ear. “Looks like shit.”

“Can’t argue.” Sop added.

You toyed with the card box, studying the pattern on the front to avoid Soap’s eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Weren’t you trained in covert operations? You should be a better liar.” Ghost laid down his hand.

“AYE, you wee scunner!”

“If you want to hurt my feelings, you need to do it in english.”

Soap huffed. “You fucking bitch.”

“There we are.” Ghost shuffled the deck while you looked astray, the music drifting around you seeming to quiet when Gaz cracked a smile at something Price said.

“Gonna shove you outta here in a minute.” Ghost remarked. “Fuckin’ talk to him, he’s useless.”

You sighed, tossing the box back on the table and pushing yourself to your feet. You casted a glance back, at which Soap gave you a dorky double-thumbs up. A sideways glance at Price gave him the message to fake a bathroom visit, leaving Gaz to drink from his bottle alone for a few minutes. You came up quietly, ordering something neat that came to mind before easing into the space beside him. Seeing you, he exhaled noisily, halfway out of his seat before you spoke.

“Please, Gaz..”

He allowed himself to relax back into the stool, facing forward.

“Just go.” His voice was gentler than you’d anticipated. The bartender handed you your drink, and you drank a mouthful.

“I don’t want to.” You said simply.

His leg began to bounce, and you wondered how good of an idea this was.

“I need to stay away from you. It’s the only way things can work smoothly.”

Your brow furrowed for a moment, and he noticed, closing his eyes while rubbing at his forehead.

“I care too much. It’s going to get somebody hurt.”

“How can you be sure if you won’t let it happen?” You replied slowly.

“I’ve seen it happen; it doesn’t work.”

You shook your head. “Gaz, I won’t just ignore you forever, you have to know that’s unreasonable.” Your voice shook for a moment. “You’re my squadmate, you’re my friend. I will not leave you to rot because you’re scared, that’s exactly when I should be with you.”

You didn’t know what possessed your words as you pleaded with him, but they were pouring out, and it felt right. Being beside him felt right.

Gaz looked into your eyes for the first time in weeks.

“I’ll hurt you.”

You took his hand.

“I’ll let you.”

Gaz stared for a few moments, his eyes darting to search your face for any insincerity. When he found nothing, he tugged you off the stool, leading you through moving bodies and clouds of cigar smoke to the curb outside.

“It’s freezing..” You looked up at him as he finally stopped, the street lamps illuminating his face.

“I’m sorry..” He absentmindedly ran his hands down your arms to warm you, the action furthering your confusion. "I just.."

"What is it?"

Gaz's breath was visible in the cold air, a puff that crowded between the two of you when he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. His hands held your head gently, and your arms found their way around his. He only stopped for a breath before leaning in again, his nose nudging against yours. He pulled you closer, kissed you longer. Between his exchanges, he breathed a simple phrase, as if he wanted to transfer the words into your very soul.

"I'm in love with you."

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