#finally able to be angry and sad without trying to self destruct about it and this feels illegal

[particleseparationroom]

black dye is out. REAL insane ex boyfriends respond to the breakup by making their hair even blonder than it already is

[greatcelestialhieroglyphs]

Backslide, Vignette, Snap Back, and Oldies Station are so desperately important to me.

For the past few years, I’ve been struggling with a self-destructive habit that I haven’t been able to break. Even though my family has been super loving and understanding, I keep feeling like THIS time is going to be the time that they get fed up and give up on me for good. “Do you think that now’s the time, you should let go?” I feel like I’ve asked that question a thousand times. And the repetition, which sounds (to me) like he’s TELLING the person he’s talking to that they should let go. They SHOULD get tired of me. My self-destructive habits are hurting the people I cared about. I should have fixed it for THEM if not myself, I should have loved them better.

Vignette just sounds like a relapse to me. The way Tyler sings “Man, it’s been a long night” and “Where do I go from here?” are so filled with exhaustion and desperation. The mental image of people he cares about finding him in the woods, covered in bites, as someone finding you after a relapse and seeing what you’ve done to yourself.

Snap Back is. just. Sometimes you can FEEL your resolve getting weaker, you can FEEL yourself buckling under life’s pressures and going to familiar coping mechanisms. You want to be stronger, to have more resolve, but you’re so freaking tired and it feels inevitable. After all, it only takes ONE weak moment. You have all day to relapse. You have all night. You have all week. Can you REALLY stay determined that long? You’ve done this before. You know you can’t.

(And this line of thinking is inherently self-defeating. You’ve relapsed so many times that you’ve lost faith in yourself. You don’t have faith in yourself, so you can’t win. It’s a self fulfilling prophecy.)

And at the end, when you’ve tried everything and said everything to the people you love as they’re sad and angry and worried and afraid and proud and everything else over the years… “I’ve run out of excuses for why I am this way.”

Finally. Oldies Station. Because life is going to keep coming, and you’re probably going to relapse. You’re still learning to deal with fear and pain without hurting yourself in the process. But you’re still here.

“Make an oath, then make mistakes. Start a streak you’re bound to break.” This philosophy is one I’ve been trying to adopt for years. No matter how many times you relapse, you NEED to keep fighting. There is so much freedom in staring again, KNOWING you’ll probably fail, but putting your all into it anyway. Because sometimes, your all isn’t enough. Whether that’s because life is too hard or you’re too weak doesn’t really matter. That’s not what you need to be focusing on. When darkness rolls on you, when you’re filled with grief and shame and whatever emotions plague you in a vicious cycle, you push on through.

You get better. You get stronger. It’s so slow, but it happens. You’re still here.

And when you do relapse again, you may be disappointed, but you can feel yourself on the come up even when you’re at a low point.

You fell into a backslide yet again, but you don’t quite mind. And isn’t that the goal of healing?

Peace?

[creaturebehavior]

i somehow forgot that feeling my emotions is still a new thing for me

especially anger.

and i also forgot that experiencing anger like i have been for the last year/year & a half is a completely normal and expected part of the process of healing from trauma

i forgot that i never used to be able to feel angry about certain things that i am now able to feel angry about.

i forgot that anger can be a positive thing.

like, i certainly don’t have the same relationship with my emotions or with anger as i used to, but i still forgot that my feelings are completely normal and to be expected.

i noticed i’ve been a little resistant to anger because i kept thinking to myself i was angry for no reason or it was coming out of nowhere.

i forgot i’m going through a healing process. of course i’m going to be angry. and i’m finally able to feel anger. while sober. that’s a good thing. that’s a positive thing.

i’m going to be more accepting of my anger. i didn’t even realize how resistant i was before. i try not to judge my emotions but i noticed i really have been judging my anger, and i forgot that anger coming to the surface is normal when healing from trauma

i’ve only been sober since 2020, and it took me awhile to learn how to cry and to learn how to be mad, and to learn how to feel sadness or anger without using drugs about it, without suppressing it, without being super self destructive about it. and this is all part of the learning process. of course the feelings are going to get bigger over time. and the safer i feel, the more i’m able to let my guard down and be angry and be sad. i’ve been feeling safer in my environment recently, so it’s literally natural and to be expected that i’m starting to release those emotions

i think anger is such an appropriate emotion for me to feel lately actually, because i’m getting in touch with myself and my boundaries and my personal sense of agency, and i’m getting back in touch with who i am, and the humanness that was inside me before the traumatic events happened

i keep wondering to myself why am i getting pissed about this or that from the past, and it’s like, oh yeah, because i was not able to feel pissed at the time those things happened. and anger is an important emotion to feel. i have to feel these emotions in order to release them

[nobodysdaydreams]

And... now for Chapter 17:

BUT FIRST: I might also make a separate post about this, but I was talking to a friend last night (the only irl friend who knows I write fic), and I was explaining to her that there are about 3-5 random high school and college kids out there, who every time I post a fic update, come to my account and threaten to destroy my apartment. She was a bit confused at first, but I read her some of what you wrote, and now she understands, and thinks you all are hilarious. So know that you all have a fan.

And speaking of apartment destruction, this chapter was the one where Sophie REALLY held nothing back. So here we go.

"Garrison is understandably furious, but I can’t help but think Curtain might not view the situation as drastically because he thinks he can protect her…"

^Curtain does think he can protect her and give her a good life despite what he's doing. Let's hope he's right about that...

"Also Garrison is a teeny bit more level headed and realistic than Curtain so she probably understands that this is a career assassination she’ll likely never be able to come back from"

^Unless the world were to turn against Curtain for some reason. He's really set himself up for failure here.

"And the hints about vengeful psychics continue…"

^Glad to see you are following the real plot I'm hiding under all my angst.

"Also, Screaming Crying Biting You over Garrison being so offended and incredulous to the point of laughter that Curtain would ever care about her dying of alcohol poisoning. Your floorboards are mine. As are the baseboards. / BECAUSE IT WAS A NIGHTMARE FOR HIM. EVEN WITHOUT EVERYTHING THAT WAS GOING ON. HE’D BE DEVASTATED IF SHE DIED. ESPECIALLY FROM SOMETHING HE FELT RESPONSIBLE TO PROTECT HER FROM. / AND SHE DOESN’T KNOW THAT. SHE CAN’T EVEN FATHOM IT.

^And...there go the floorboards and the baseboards already. :( I've had this set up about the reference to the alcohol poisoning incident for a while now. I'm glad you can finally enjoy it.

"I felt so incredibly disgusted and reviled by Curtain’s interview the first time (And every subsequent occasion) I saw it, but once again you’ve forced me to begrudgingly see things from his perspective. / ESPECIALLY BECAUSE HE’S GOT SO MANY LAYERS OF LIES GOING ON. He does feel at least partially responsible for how bad things have gotten with Garrison, but he’s denying that it’s his fault, lying to himself about what exactly he’s upset about, and then doing this interview acting like he’s trying very hard to convince people of a completely fabricated reasoning that he made up to make himself sound sympathetic!!! He’s got it so twisted somehow he’s basically come back around to just admitting the truth. Just. With a lot more steps and self-deluding."

^YES! It's so twisted. It's truth yet not true like some kind of confusing and diabolical riddle that's nonsense yet makes complete sense and that's the world he lives in but it's also the world he's made for himself but he doesn't know how else to be.

""If she knew all of the disaster and its context, then, of course, she’d still be angry, but it would be for different reasons!!! She is missing so much information and it’s killing me to watch her make all these decisions where she’s honestly at such a disadvantage but she doesn’t even know it!!!! And she won’t let anyone help her!!!! / Afldjsjdfsdf But, contrastingly, the detail of her knowing she’s got at least three hours because Curtain loves to bloviate is really kind of funny"

^That's what I love about Garrison and Curtain betraying each other, it's actually less painful for Garrison. She has the anger, but not the sadness and pain, because she doesn't see Curtain as a friend. Why would she? And yeah, her knowing exactly how long he'd rant about himself if left unchecked...she still has friend level details about him even if she doesn't know it.

"SQ!! ACTUAL “SEASON 2” SQ CONTENT!!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL / someone help him / SQ BIRD CONTENT. I’M STILL DESTROYING YOUR FLOORBOARDS BUT YOUR SILVERWARE MAY YET BE SPARED."

^And it was at that moment, that I knew, my silverware would not be spared. I read that and I laughed. But I'm glad you were optimistic for as long as you could be. As for your request for SQ to get some help, fear not, help is on the way...

"Oh, buddy. I really, really want this to go as well for you as you’re hoping, but I can sense the impending disaster that I’m sure Bods has been “forced” to include because of show canon /j /j /j /lh /love you"

^I'm glad you enjoyed the bird scene, but come now Sophie. Disaster? That's a bit much.

But that was so cute!!! Aw, I’m really happy that I got to read that! SQ sounds so natural when he’s talking to the birds, and your descriptions of the dunnock’s reactions feel very life-like and accurate, especially with the notes about SQ projecting his own emotions onto the bird a little. Such a sweet scene!!!!

"Afjlkdgsjgsjkjks you sound like you’re describing a particularly dumb but beloved cat /pos"

^You did it. You understand the character. That is exactly who he is. Just a silly dumb but beloved cat. A joke of a man.

"I awkwardness I could feel through the screen at Jeffers’ wink was atrocious /pos"

^Not a thought in poor Jeep's brain. Just a silly little man.

"“still more disappointed about Garrison’s betrayal, which was more of a surprise to him than Jeffers’ incompetence, which he had grown accustomed to” AKJDFDKJSFJKDSF NO / It’s interesting that it seems as though Curtain’s regained enough popularity from the stupid broadcasts to somewhat bolster his confidence enough that he can pretend he isn’t terribly hurt by Garrison leaving. I wonder how long it’ll last…"

^Poor Jeeps... and very good observation. I do wonder how long that will last. I certainly hope losing the friend who gave him her technique won't backfire in any way...

"(I can’t do much to reintegrate your floorboards from sawdust, but I promise all your dinner plates are safe. This time.)" / I. I am eating MY OWN drywall at Sticky’s reactions to the letters.

^Thanks for the dinner plates. Sorry about the drywall.

"(Also his poor aunt. She’s probably going a little bit insane right now. I hope her husband is helping. I imagine him taking half the stuff out of the baskets before she’s able to ship them and giving it away to neighbourhood kids because of how overboard she always goes /lh)"

^This is SOS canon to me now. This little interaction between Sticky's aunt and uncle? By the power vested in me by me as author of the fic, I canonize it.

"“And even worse, he recognized the familiar unsettling yet beckoning feeling that began creeping up his spine. That feeling that had tempted him so strongly in the Whisperer. That he could finally be loved, safe, wanted, and happy forever.” / WELL BODS THERE GOES YOUR SILVERWARE. IT’S MINE NOW. HAVE FUN FINDING IT IN THE AIR VENTS"

^And...there it goes. I knew it was getting destroyed, I just didn't know what would be the trigger. And I guess I didn't even need to wait for the other three kids, Sticky alone was enough.

Oh dear, and Sticky’s aunt is probably beside herself with worry about Curtain seeking revenge or hurting Sticky or even just the whole situation scaring him. I bet he didn’t explain the full extent of what happened (Understandable) but that leaves a lot to her imagination and guilt

"CRYING??? CRYING CRYING SOBBING????? This poor kid… / (And there are some of those lingering psychological effects from exposure to the Whisperer that we were just talking about… /lh) / And then poor Marcus is over here trying his absolute best. He’s such a good kid"

^Since Sticky is at Boatwright, not at his aunt's house, I wanted to write him having positive relationships too (since everyone else has their family), so I gave him good friends (he deserves it, especially after his thoughts I gave him during my previous chapters about him being alone).

"I LOVE HER SO MUCH / Ajdsjdskjdsfkjsdf Literally started laughing and had to smother myself so I didn’t sound like a crazy person at this point"

^I'm glad you like Miss. Perumal's Mom. She is not taking any of Curtain's BS.

"ISAAC!!! / BODS YOU BETTER NOT GET ISAAC KIDNAPPED OR I’M COMING FOR YOUR TABLE LINENS NEXT / AKLJDSKJDFSKJADFSKJHADSFK EXCUSE ME??????? CURTAIN????? WHAT?????? / HE ACTUALLY JUST WENT THERE. AND BLAMED GARRISON FOR DOING THE EXACT SAME THING HE DID TO STICKY AND MARTINA AND JACKSON AND JILLSON AND WHO KNOWS HOW MANY OTHER CHILDREN. I’M THROWING CHAIRS AT THIS POINT"

^Yeah...Curtain really went there. (I say as I'm the one who wrote it). But that was a low blow, even for him. Though he views it as self-defense.

"OH HEAVENS YES. PLEASE TELL YOUR MOM ABOUT SQ THIS IS SUCH A GOOD PLAN I LOVE IT"

^this chapter functioned a lot like Chapter 8 "Missing Pieces" where I had plot gaps I needed to fill and needed to find ways to do it. One gap is Nicholas not knowing about SQ or even asking about him. It's understandable the others would be distracted with everything going on, and Reynie made plans to tell him, but doesn't.

"I love how Miss Perumal is already forming a case against Curtain in her mind. She’s so ready for action"

^Yes she is. But I wonder what she'll think when she finally meets Curtain.

"YEAH!!! Mrs. Perumal is also awesome. She’s probably where Dipika got the can-do attitude :)"

^I love writing Reynie's grandmother. One of my favorite background characters.

"BUT ALSO SCREAMING SCREAMING SCREAMING / I KNEW IT WAS COMING BUT AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH/ I SUGGESTED S.A.S. BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT WAS A FUNNY JOKE AT THE TIME. AND THEN YOUR EXQUISITE IDEAS MADE IT INTO SUCH AN EMOTIONAL GUTPUNCH. / DON’T GET ME WRONG, YOU’RE A GENIUS AND I LOVE YOUR CREATIVITY AND I’M BEYOND HONOURED YOU WANTED TO ADAPT ONE OF MY SILLY THINGS/ BUT ALSO SAY GOODBYE TO ALL YOUR RIGHT SHOELACES/ SDKJSDJKJKDFKJHASAKJSASJKFSADJKJFDSKJ"

^It was a wonderful idea and I miss my shoelaces but am happy this brought so much joy!

"Oh. Oh I hate Barbara NewsLady with a passion. She’s my new nemesis."

^Mine is still Marlon, but fun fact, I needed names and I was listening to the beetlejuice soundtrack when writing this, so I just name the newscasters Barbara and Adam after the Maitlands (though obviously, they aren't as nice). Between the two of them, they're basically like the newspaper reporter from ASOUE.

"ALSO. CAN ALL THE STUPID ADULTS PLEASE STOP PICKING ON ISAAC????? HE’S NOT AN IDIOT. HE KNOWS WHAT HE’S DOING. PLEASE STOP BEING MEAN TO HIM :( "

^Ah. You picked up on my "the way adults dismiss children" theme. Congratulations! You win a prize. The prize? Emotional pain. /j /sorry

“She might have done bad things but…Milligan had never seen anyone ever look so trapped, alone, and terrified. And despite knowing that she’d done awful things, blaming the entire Emergency on her seemed especially cruel. / “It’s disgraceful,” Milligan muttered at the television under his breath, “blaming that poor woman for what he did.” ” / WOW. WOW IT’S ALMOST LIKE BODS KNOWS WHICH SCENES ARE ESPECIALLY PAINFUL AND KEEPS HARKENING BACK TO THEM. ON PURPOSE. TO CAUSE PAIN.  /s /affectionate

^Indeed I do Sophie. Indeed I do. And if they are going to replay over and over in my mind, then I'm going to call back to them.

"“I shouldn’t have heard it from Curtain before I heard it from you.””/ ASKJDFKJDKJFSDKJDSFKJ / BODS. I SWEAR, IT’S ALMOST LIKE YOU WANT TO LOSE FLOORBOARD PRIVILEGES"

^Oh silly Sophie. You already destroyed them. I have nothing to lose anymore :) /j /lovingly ominous. And your comments about Kate! 🥺The kids do have a lot of fear and guilt and it's not their fault! And poor Milligan is trying his best too.

"MR. OSHIRO??????? / Asdgjasdjhdgsjdf Where is this “School for Spies” subplot going? I love it /gen"

^Yeah... he's a bit less of "an esteemed actor" than he lead Jackson and Jillson to believe. As for School for Spies, that's actually a callback to something that happened earlier (I don't remember the chapter, but remember when Jeffers went to see that movie and came to some conclusions about his work...)

"AND THEN THEY TALK ABOUT IT. WOW. OH GEE I WONDER IF ONLY CURTAIN HADN’T PUSHED AWAY HIS ONLY FRIENDS WHAT KIND OF PARENTING TIPS HE MIGHT HAVE GOTTEN /s"

^They do. I needed there to be conflict going into season 2 (because there is conflict), but not too much, because it would be out of character for both of them to let the anger sit there without any attempt to talk.

"The way you write Rhonda and Number Two together makes me wildly happy. It’s so perfect, and I can hear it in my head, and it flows incredibly well. But not too, well, you know? It isn’t like a conversation that feels forced or robotic, just two people who really love each other talking, and that means sometimes they make mistakes or say something a little odd, but they feel like real people :) "

^This means a lot. They are honestly, maybe the hardest characters for me to write, so I'm glad their dialogue felt so real to you.

"THIS MAN. MR. NICHOLAS BENEDICT. HE NEEDS THERAPY AS MUCH AS THE CHILDREN DO."

^Most of the adults do tbh. I see you've begun to sniff out my generational trauma theme as well...

"WHY IS EVERYONE IN THIS HOUSE SO BAD AT FEELINGS???? JUST. TALK TO EACH OTHER????"

^Oh...but then they would just be a burden to each other. Plus I need to keep the conflict going so I can have plot.

Bods, you know just how to get into the heart of things with your narration of characters’ inner thoughts. Beautiful

^Thank you 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

"HE JUST. STRAIGHT UP CALLS HER NATHANIEL. NO NICKNAMES NO NOTHING. MY HEART DROPPED LIKE A STONE AT THAT. / Oh, oh dear. And Nicholas is in such a storm of emotions, but he’s going to try to ignore it because he wants to help Constance. / “Nathaniel’s words were painful and brought with them a sea of emotions. Anger, guilt, regret, sadness, and yet there was still a part of Nicholas that wanted to keep watching. To see his brother’s face for as long as he could after all these years of missing him and to hear his voice again, as heartbreaking as his words were. ” / YOU KNOW WHAT. HOW DARE YOU. /pos /affectionate / AND HE DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE. HE DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO BACKTRACK NOW. /JUST BE HONEST YOU DIMWIT /j"

^This whole thing. I love it. The heart dropping like a stone was precisely what I wanted (sorry), because it's such a bittersweet thing for Nicholas to think of her that way and to acknowledge it. And of course it leaves Constance with a lot of complex emotions.

"OH NO / BODS YOUR CEILING TILES ARE FORFEIT / Very, very sad passage I am melting into the floor over, but I really love how eloquently this captures their sibling dynamic. He may be basically a supervillain, but he’s just trying to antagonise Nicholas because he’s hurt and angry"

^Not my ceiling. No floor, no ceiling. Now I'm standing on dirt, surrounded by walls. And yeah, at his core Nathaniel is just an insufferable sibling.

"ALSO. CONSTANCE??? YOU NEED LOVE TOO YOU GOOF. PLEASE ACCEPT IT /Both Constance and Nathaniel are harsh because they’ve been so hurt, but they also desperately want to protect the people they love. And it creates such a confusion in them. But Constance is not such an irredeemable person as she thinks!!! It’s a testament to your writing that you can have a very intelligent child who is still very much a child go toe-to-toe with an adult who is also a genius, but has more life experience, and neither character feels flat or undermined in some way."

^I'm glad you liked the conversation between Nicholas and Constance! And the parallels...I have been WAITING for the Nicholas calls Constance Nathaniel scene for so long, it feels so good to finally have that written down, you have no idea.

"OH BOY. THE WATER POLO TEAM. I’D NEARLY FORGOTTEN THEM/  “how badly do you need them roughed up?” Why are they the female Ten Men all of a sudden???? I’m scared /lh /pos"

^Because I think of them as the female ten men. (Sorry...)

"AND GARRISON STILL WON’T BUDGE ON NOT HURTING THE KIDS. I WONDER WHAT THIS FORESHADOWS IN HER IMMINENT BREAKDOWN"

^No exactly a spoiler, but a whole lot of "I'm gonna brainsweep you" vs. Constance's "yeah...no you're not."

Insane. Absolutely, one hundred percent, certifiably insane over this chapter. Somehow, not quite as painful as I was expecting, but I suppose that’s because we haven’t quite moved back into “Season 2 canon”, as it were.

^Also because I wanted every family scene to have a sweet-ish ending. You see the conflict, but also the genuine love. And right now, things are okay. At least for the time being.

Also!!!! I had the best time reading all the family vignettes!!!! Outstanding. I’m really, really excited for where you’re going to take this. Because each chapter is a treasure!!! I never feel like I am trudging through a piece of plot I don’t want, or a certain character’s perspective is boring, or like I wish you had skipped a certain scene. All of it is extremely enjoyable, and you sneak so many little details and moments into each and every paragraph that it really keeps me on my toes!! I never know what to expect, and yet my expectations are always blown completely out of the water. You are definitely one fantastic author, my friend :D

^Once again, sobbing over this. Sophie you are so sweet. These comments are amazing, you are amazing, and I'm so happy you love my writing and ideas so much. Hugging you through my screen and I hope you have a perfect day!

@nobody33333333 You've forced my hand

My S.O.S. notes have become too much for Tumblr to handle, so until I figure out a better system, I shall be sharing them like THIS (Chapters 16 & 17)

I don't know if anyone else cares to see my unhinged gibberish, but if you do, there it is :)

[redrobin-detective]

*crawls through you bedroom window* actually sorry I’m not done talking about the tragic, complicated clusterfuck which is Ben and Rook’s friendship/partnership. Because of how it was set up and their own personalities at the time, it was doomed to fail. I mentioned previously how neither got to know/understand the other and I retract that because it’s not entirely true. They did get to bond in a way that you almost have to when you’re in life or death situations together but they never talked about it and so each went on thinking they weren’t important to the other.

The whole nature of their partnership reeks of impermanence. Max obviously knew ahead of time that Gwen and Kevin were leaving for college and had time to prepare. Ben being on his own, reckless and stupid, was not an option. I wonder how many candidates they went through before they got to Rook. They chose someone who excelled at Plumber training, who knew the rules Ben never bothered to learn backwards and forwards. Someone who would balance out Ben and keep him reigned in. Someone who was obviously destined for higher management so why not give him the best field training possible? Rook, if not Ben, was certainly aware that it was a temporary thing. Ben was 16 going on 17, soon he wouldn’t need a partner anymore; this was the last attempt at training wheels. I imagine the partnership dissolved not long after Omniverse ends, when Rook becomes Magister and probably has new training and responsibilities. Ben, almost an adult by human standards and hopefully positively molded by Rook’s influence, is deemed ready to be on his own. 

So imagine you’re Rook, you’re a newly graduated Plumber who was ready to take on the universe. You’re informed you’re heading to Earth and you will be working one on one with your idol, the Ben 10, the one who inspired you to leave your traditional, isolated homeworld. You meet your hero and while he’s got the watch and the quips, he’s also a child in a culture you don’t understand. You’re disappointed that your hero isn’t as perfect as rumor and propaganda told you. You’re angry and frustrated and you don’t bother to hide it, Ben almost seems to retaliate by being more obnoxious. The more time you spend with Ben, you realize there’s a method to his madness. He wins more battles than he loses, what Rook at first took to be Ben’s flaws turn out to also be his strengths. Seeing Ben in action snarling and laughing in the face of certain destruction, he realizes that Ben is, at the same time, a stupid, idiot kid who barely has an idea of what he’s doing but also twice the hero Rook thought he was. Suddenly Ben 10 isn’t just a poster in his room or a radio show to listen to in the dark, he is a real person and that makes him even more worthy of admiration.

And Rook does admire him, quietly. Ben keeps up his walls and Rook lets him because who is he to try and really befriend Ben 10? Rook is just one of billions of Plumbers in the universe, Ben is the universe’s savior. I bet before Rook ever stepped foot on Earth it was drilled into him that Ben Tennyson was to be protected at all costs, that Rook’s life was nothing compared to Ben’s. Rook already comes from a very restrained and private culture, he won’t initiate anything beyond what is needed for to the mission and to save his partner. It is enough for him to be able to work alongside his hero (even if said hero is thoughtless and ridiculous and has no sense of self preservation and he drives Rook insane but by gum does he respect the hell out of Ben when he isn’t contemplating murdering him). When the time ultimately comes for Rook to depart, he will be sad but not mention it. Because he imagines he is only a blip on Ben’s radar, a temporary partner before Ben goes onto bigger and better things. He never tells Ben that his loyalty wasn’t to the Plumbers, to Ben 10 but to the scrawny, sleep deprived kid who always remembered Rook’s favorite smoothie flavor. 

Now imagine you’re Ben. You’ve saved the universe at the cost of your privacy, chance for a normal life, general sense of safety and sanity. You’re quickly losing track of what part is you and what part is the myth about you. Two of your three major support systems abandon you without notice. Over the years of AF/UAF, Gwen and Kevin saw all your brokenness, fears, vulnerabilities, watched you go from dumb kid to hero. You didn’t have to tell them these things, they saw them happen and just knew. And now they’re gone and you only have your grandpa who you love but is also sorta of your boss now. He tells you you’re being assigned a new partner, someone chosen without your consent, someone you’re expected to trust your life and secrets with. Fine, this Rook fellow will do. He can watch your back but he’s not having any pieces of your broken heart. 

You fight, both bad guys and each other. The two of you have such opposite styles that you clash. He may have training and discipline but you have experience and incredible power. You fumble and bicker and somewhere through it all find an understanding. Suddenly the rumble of his voice is familiar as Kevin’s once was, his logical approaches and teasing barbs slot in where Gwen’s used to be. It’s not bad, you tell yourself. You know this isn’t forever, that it’s not real, but it’s not bad. Because you know first and foremost that Rook is a Plumber and you are not. You also know he is a fan and you are acutely aware how short you fall from the perfect hero ideal. Ben laughs, clinging harder to the arrogant hero façade and pretends Rook’s disappointment doesn’t crush him. If someone who’s forced to work with him doesn’t like Ben, then how can he be the beloved savior everyone tells him he is even though he doesn’t quite know how he got there? He’s just a kid doing his best and soon buries himself in his perceived role.

Time passes, Ben and Rook have been through so much. Against your will, he’s seen some of your broken parts. He sees past your cracks, sees your guilt and grief and bone deep fear. But he doesn’t seem upset, even more disappointed by the failure hero. He is kind, friendly, understanding. Not enough that Ben feels comfortable to open up but he relaxes, just a bit. Rook isn’t just a forced upon partner, he’s now a friend. But he knows Rook is only here because he was ordered, he feels Rook’s annoyance with him and believes his kindness is only out of duty. It’s fine, he’s used to everyone around him bleeding him dry of everything he has and then some. Just another part of being a hero. He’s not Kevin or Gwen but he is Rook and he is grown on you because Ben is always an open soul, one who wants to receive some love he gives so freely. You finally feel steady, like you can stop pretending so much and try and find some peace and happiness in your dangerous, chaotic life.

Suddenly so fast, you’ve saved the universe once more and Rook is moving on. It’s like Gwen and Kevin leaving all over again. Rook himself seems excited to move up the ranks, to get more tassles on his uniform. He is a soldier at heart, you are not even if you play the part of one. You are a child only you’re not anymore, while you were busy saving everyone again and again your childhood was stolen from you. Now on the edge of adulthood, you’re told it’s time to take responsibility. You want to scream you’ve been doing that since you were 10 years old, that someone else can do  it for a change. You want to beg Rook to stay, to drag Gwen and Kevin home, to hide your loved ones away with you and not have to confront the big, bad universe alone. Instead, you do what you always do. You swallow all your fears, your wishes and hopes and shake his hand goodbye and wish him well. You don’t tell him you’ll miss him, neither does he. 

Rook and Ben part as the strangers they never stopped being even if both of them aches at the loss of the close proximity, of the friendship. Both are very much aware that the relationship was weak, transient, that it might have been something more if they gave it more attention. However, too many things were between them and both of them genuinely believed the other didn’t care as much. The rest of their lives they remain friendly, distant but polite. It’s not much different from when they fought side by side even if they wish it different.

[angstama]

god knows you tried | manjiro (mikey) sano

pairing: bonten!mikey x reader 

genre: angst

warnings: heartbreak, attempt suicide(?), original characters/manga plot (pls do not read if you haven’t read the manga D: ), mentions of religion, implied sex (no smut ok!)

summary: god knows you tried your best. if only mikey knew how hard you’re trying too then perhaps this love wouldn’t hurt as much as you thought. 

 words: 1823 words 

 a/n: i think this sucks but... i hope you enjoy it! <3

god knows you tried.

you watched the ex-toman boys eagerly catching up with takemichi quietly, hands resting against your chin as you took in the rare sight in front of you with a sad smile etched on your lips. this was the happy ending that mikey had sacrificed for everyone but himself. 

“a penny for your thoughts?” mitsuya asks, plopping down next you on to the stone steps. that’s right, it’s june 19th 2018, toman’s formation day anniversary and everyone had gathered around to re-open the time capsule from twelve years ago. “hm? nothing much. just missing a particular someone.” you hummed, dragging your fingers across the ground to draw a heart. mitsuya nods understandingly, knowing not to pry any deeper anymore and for that, you’re thankful. 

crouching down, you hesitantly picked up the the blue coloured envelope you left behind twelve years ago. unsure if you’d wanna read the contents of the letter your naive self written back then. with a deep breath, you slipped open the cover. revealing a photo of candid photo of you and mikey leaning on each other asleep with your mouths wide open taken by emma. 

dearest y/n, 

i wonder what you’re doing right now? 

are you perhaps finally studying in film? 

has that idiot manjiro finally proposed to you?

 or are you the one who proposed to him? 

“y/n, you’ll be with me for a long time right?” mikey asked, staring at the very sky that you both loved oh so very much with your hands intertwined. having grown up with each other since young had pretty much given you both the illusion that the two of you will always be a part of each other’s world. and you hoped with every inch of your heart that mikey wants it to be that way forever. “of course. you’re my heaven and home mikey. i wouldn’t go anywhere else without you by my side.” you squeezed his hand in assurance, knowing that at this very moment, mikey was at his most truthful and vulnerable self with you. 

whatever it is, i hope that you’re living the happy life with him that you’ve been dreaming of. 

signing off, 

toman’s honorary member, y/n l/n. 

everyone was silent. even hakkai who had been making fun of everyone’s letter kept quiet. the boys knew how much you loved and you still love mikey. each opting to give you the concerned and sympathetic look. you could feel you heart breaking even more for you knew you weren’t doing anything that you had hoped for back then. 

you felt mitsuya’s comforting hand softly grabbing onto yours. “well that’s depressing,” you chuckled softly, wanting to get rid of the awkward tension in the air as soon as possible. “let’s grab some ramen, i’m starving.” and with that, you let your feet drag you away from the heavy atmosphere with your head hung low. 

perhaps the hurt wouldn't be as painful if you weren’t the only one who knew what kind of path mikey had chosen to go down. you see, when mikey turned his back against all his closest friend, you had the privilege of staying as his only constant thanks to your stubborn nature but even with that, you weren’t enough to keep him away from his dark impulses. mikey chose the path to destruction and the only thing that you could do was watch from the sidelines and be there when he shows up at wee hours of the night to borrow your body. but you didn't mind. it was during these most intimate moments with mikey that you finally get to feel a piece of him again when he spews the words of “i love you” so effortlessly. 

god knows that you tried. 

“mikey those aren’t good for you.” you frowned, snatching the capsule away from his hand seconds before he could flush it down his system. “what the fuck y/n?” the angered male snaps. you felt yourself falling and back colliding against the hard ground. opening your eyes, you see mikey pining you down with nothing but void darkness in his eyes. “i’ll fucking kill you if you do it again.” mikey taunts, he was serious and you know it. 

“then kill me mikey.” the words slipped out of your tongue instantly. you were tired. tired of trying. you don't know what else can you possibly do to help mikey anymore. mikey says nothing but got off you. he dusted himself and without sparing you single glance, he showed you his back again, walking out of the door where sanzu was already holding open for him. “get her home.” you heard him say. 

it’s been a week since you guys opened the time capsule. nothing much had happened since then except you’ve been spending more time with hina considering how she’s often over to mitsuya’s studio for gown fitting. you admired and envy her love story with takemichi. but who were you to complain? you were lucky enough that mikey still wanted you around. so it shouldn’t hurt so much when you sae her adorning the beautiful wedding gown that mitsuya had spent months on tailoring. 

you let out a tired yawn, stretching your arms above your head as you finished touching up the last few bits of editing on your laptop. you looked over at the calendar on your table, a pink heart circled over today’s date and smiled. “mitsuya, i’m gonna knock off first okay?” you announced, tidying up your table and reaching out for the bag of the familiar favourite deserts of a certain male. 

mitsuya nods, “thank you for your hard work y/n”. he flashes you a smile, eye slowly trailing to the white plastic bag dangling from your side as you waved goodbye, back facing him and walking away. “you’re going to see him aren't you?” you stopped in your tracks. “i know he never left you. plus you got a bag filled with dorayakis and taiyakis. that’s pretty obvious.” mitsuya chuckles. you always knew mitsuya to be perceptive but it never once occured to you that your best friend who is also your boss would ever catch on to the secret you’ve been hiding for twelve years. 

“how did yo-” 

“be careful y/n.” mitsuya waves you off, going back to whatever he was doing. a fond smile creeps onto your lips as you watched mitsuya working hard. “thank you mitsuya. for everything. really,” you whispered, but loud enough for the dual dyed coloured hair boy to look up again when you walked away. 

you made your way towards the secluded vip section of the club through swarms of body swaying around you until you saw the familiar tall pink haired male standing outside the golden door. 

“hey sanzu,” you greeted, barely audible over the loud booming music. you were about to push the door open when sanzu towers over you immediately, denying you of your entrance. you looked at sanzu in confusion, “it’s me, y/n. i’m here to see mikey.” you said loudly, voice straining to over power the background noise. “ i know. but mikey will not be seeing anyone right now.” he retorts back. 

surely mikey knew that you were visiting tonight right? after all it’s your anniversary date. you tilted your head at sanzu. not fully understanding what he’s saying. to say that you’re feeling absolutely livid would be an understatement right now. you’re too tired, angry and broken hearted to process anything anymore so you exploded. you only wanted to see your boyfriend. was that a very difficult request? 

“sanzu,” you said lowly, eyes staring blankly into his and as if on cue, you brought your knees to his precious manhood before making another high kick at him, bringing him down. it was a technique that mikey had taught you when you were younger and attending martial arts lesson together with baji. god you missed baji so much. 

“y/n because you’re short, you can do this instead.” mikey suggested smugly, kneeing poor baji’s little friend before swinging his legs much more harder than he intended to at baji’s profile when he bent forward. the main point was to get your opponent to lean forward so that your legs could reach high enough to create an impact on their skull. you eyes lit up in excitement, “wow! that’s so cool! let me try it!” you jumped impatiently. turning towards mikey to execute the exact same move. “wait n-! AHH,” mikey’s eyes widened, and before he knew it, you had completely knocked him over. 

that day, as mikey and baji lied down with pain still intact barely moving an inch, shinchiro only gave you a thumbs up and praised you for taking down the invincible mikey. you were the only one who could do that. 

“sanzu, i’ll see my boyfriend as and when i’d like to.” you said curtly, eyeing sending daggers at him lying on the ground before stepping over him to swing the door open, revealing your petite self to the other bonten’s executives and hostess who were staring at you in surprise. 

you don’t see anyone else but your lover who’s currently sitting in the center with two pretty hostess sitting by his side. you don’t hesitate and begun walking  towards him. “get your hands off my man.” you said calmly. there was tension in the air and from the corner of your eyes, you could see the executives slowly getting up to leave as if on cue. 

“aren’t you as stubborn as always,” he raises a brow as you settled down next to him, pouring the bag of dessert on the glass table in front of you. you smile softly, grabbing a packet of taiyaki and handing it to him before grabbing one for yourself too. “happy 14th anniversary mikey.” you mumbled softly before grabbing a bite.  14 years, that was how long you two had been together for. “mhm. happy 14th anniversary y/n.” mikey hums, allowing you lean in close to him and resting your head on his chest. 

you take in the scent of mikey for you knew that this is going to be the last time you’re going to be able to hold mikey close to you. you didn't want this moment to end but you were too tired to continue on and see what's going to happen the next when you go back to just another normal day. you held tightly to the gun you hid in your bag, shutting your eyes tightly. 

“hey mikey,” you called out. you never thought you’d see it again but you saw a flash of endearment in his eyes when you called him. “i love you so much, promise you’ll take care of yourself alright?” you smiled warmly before pulling the gun out of your bag and putting it against your head. 

god knows you tried. 

god knows you did your best and now you’re going home. 

bang!

[muffindaddystyles]

KISMETS (Part 3)

Harry Styles x Preggs Fem!Reader.

Frenmies to lovers to parents, Dadthon!!H

Oral Smut, dirty talk and teasing.

Angst! Angst and fluff!! N' tooth rotting fluff.

Dadrry, bestie!h, boyfriend!h

Author's Note: The concept's kinda weird but if you've watched F.R.I.E.N.D.S and Phoebe Buffay carrying child for someone. You've got it my pal!

MASTERLIST PART 1 PART 2 LETS TALK/ ASK

The morning light cocoons them with softness and they don't care if they're sitting in a pool of blood.

"I love you too, so much." She hiccups pacifying down not wanting to never be to able say them again as Harry runs a hand at her back, limbs still tangled with eachother, whispering sweet things to her while Miss. Dori pulled her placenta out, "Y/N?" He panics when she dulls in his arms head lulling at his shoulder and heartbeat slowing down to feeble line. Gently pulling his face out from the cave of her neck he pats her cheek worriedly, again, at her unconscious state, her head dangling back over his wrist, "Y/N!?" His heart squeezing tight miserably into his ribcages when she doesn't respond to his calls.

Or

Harry and Y/N are back being to besties and enjoying being pregnant together.

Warning: Mentions of blood, pregnancy trauma and natural childbirth hurdles.

//

Eyes gives it all. Even the hidden treasures get's looted from the mere mistake of someone's gaze just like right now when he's pretending to be confused as ever, "what? Called her myself . . ." He frowns and she sniffs frozen in her position feeling exposed from the vulnerability of being naked infront of him; tries to cover herself criss-crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why'd you d'that?" She hiccups wiping her blushed nose and his pupils bursts wide into realization. Immediately, cradles her face tenderly stroking the apple of her cheeks shaking his head vigorously, "Oh -— no. no. no baby told her to come over to take her leftover stuff if not I better give it to charity."

"O . . okay." She sucks in a breather. Without a word he removes hers arms away in a gesture that you never need to hide from me. Kisses her shoulder blade stroking her wrists and her pulse in circles.

"Don't cry, lil penguin. Why're ye' cryin'?" He asks in his most gentle voice feathering her cheek with the back of his hand, "'m . . . 'm scared." She tries to recoup her cries holding her breath causing her cheeks to puff like a fish.

"Let's get you cleaned warm and nice. Then we'll talk yeah lovie?" He slides her elbows behind his neck holding her strongly to walk them to his bedroom. Gives her a bath full of vanilla bubbles, essential oils, scrubbed her back and would trail kisses up her belly from under water making her giggle and weave her fingers into his own wet curls.

Him loving all three of them's the most adorable thing.

Got her ready for mid-nap with his sweater and boxers putting fur pads atop her ears, aloe fused socks on her feet and turning the heat a bit to sleepy temperature. Tucks a quilt under their chins and snuggles her closer to himself letting herself calm to his heartbeats before she speaks her heart out to him, "wanna talk? What you're scared of babe tell me all of it. Knows that I'll handle." He slips further into bed bringing her thigh around his torso and her head atop his buff chest.

She exhales loudly trying to subside the emotional feeling of crying along with each word that comes out of her mouth. Her bad habbit of grounding everything to the pit of her stomach until it blasts into a massive destruction always gets her into worst scenarios.

"'M worried about alot of things –- actually." She peeks up at him and he's already looking down at her genuinely with relaxed self to let her know that nothing has changes and he's still her bestfriend who'd wait for her till she manages to speak, "about what?" He encourages her petting down her hair.

"Everything like 'like future . . 'n — me being a good mum after all of that 'm uni too. . . the semester would start right after the month of my delivery." She furls her toes to keep her anxiety at bay level cocooning her womb cause she feels the safest with the assurement of her babies being with her, "about my career and what about me dreams? What if I'll never get to chase 'em?" He listens to her diligently boring his gaze to the way her lips mold with each word. Sighs gently rubbing her arms up and down salutating his palm around the side of her neck to tip her face towards him. His lips lingers at her temple murmuring against it, "Together we're gonna do this."

"You're gonna be the kindest and bestest mommy ever Y/N. I belive in ye' and about your dreams. I'll take care that nothing comes in the way to stop ya . . You'll attend UNI same as before 'cause 'm takin' a break to be with our babies till your done with your degree." He declares to her seriously and honestly running his hand all over her spine to assure her in every way possible, locking his ankles with her under the sheets.

"'M a big boy now! A daddy to two babies don't underestimate me miss gremlin!" He grins impishly smushing his cheeks into her side wide spreading his palm atop her tummy warmly with bare fingers, "'kay gotcha!" She giggles cuddling into him with droopy eyes inhaling the same scent she's lathered in from the sweet spot of his neck.

//

She wakes up in the evening satisfied and happy with the nap marks, sweaty baby hairs, a bit of drool at the corner of her mouth and Harry already awake but still spooning her. He's her pregnancy pillow.

Covers her mouth with his pinky and ring finger when she yawns cutely stretching beneath him slowly blinking. Proper stops with his intense loving gaze still on her and blushes hard when he pecks her dry lips after sleep. Her chest heaves with his kisses and snogs trailing down between the valley of her breasts making her card her fingers through his chocolate curls. Whimpers ever hoarsely raising her hips in air for some friction and to levitate the throb in between her legs asking for him to release the ache away.

He takes the hint scooching closer to her side nudging her knees wide stroking the flesh of her thighs with tickling pinches. She whines fisting sheets with yearning arch of her back, "insatiable lil thing aren't ya?" He gives a toothy grin wetting his lips making her pause in her heave of getting his fingers instead flickering her vision over his candy plush lips.

"Kiss me?" She whispers and how couldn't he when she's looking this soft, warm and full of blush from the nap. He was litreally nutters for not ever pondering over the thought how alluring and attractiveness her satiny features hold, "'course darlin'." He tips her chin towards himself letting her sweet cushiony lips fuse against his's into an ardent kiss shooting her libidos 100 times higher than before making her moan pathetically into his mouth.

Her forearms winding around his shoulders instinctively and exhales through her nose not pulling away from the kiss and squeaks lowly when he bites her lower lip pulling away, "'ve got asthma y'mad mad woman." He gapes down at her dramatically fiddling with the bow of her panties. They skim down to her mound feeling the slickness that has spread all around and the rough trim of hair, "and I've got an extravagant sex drive!" It whisks into a breathy gasp of dense air when he slid his digits in between her slick folds flickering her swollen clitoris and repeating till she's panting for more.

"Sad innit? 'S me fault. I should be the one to help my girl out." He mutters trailing sweet kisses down her swollen belly to her pelvis snapping the elastic with his teeth causing her to jolt under his firm hold. She's too floaty else the statement of him claiming her would have swiped her away into a paradise of never ending imaginations.

"Mhmp. What did ya had fo' lunch lovie'?" He licks her juices off from the inside of her thighs sending intense quivers to her core. His palms smoothes under her thighs to hike them up and over his shoulders nipping at her skin when all she did was responded with a gasp, "d- dunno forgot . ." He perks his brows to his forehead commenting playfully while dipping down to tickle her with his curls.

"Pregnancy made ye' loose your braincells, moppet?" She raises her hand to smack him at head instead tugs his hair when for finally he flattens his tongue thickly against her wet cunt to give a good mind boggling lick sucking her clitoris in the way, "asshole. . ." She moans squirming like leaf under him but he quites her by taking her sensitive nub between his teeth to give a little graze and pull. It makes her pussy lips flutter and her hole leak with so much wetness it sticks to Harry's chin.

"H – ha . . rry. Harry." She tries to grind her hips against his mouth but he tuts brushing his pads around her dripping hole to tease her, "yes baby?" Groans of annoyance fills the room and she shoves her face into the pillow bitting down the snarky insults thrown at the curly head.

"Not gonna give ye' me fingers till you ask fo' it." He smooches wet filthy kisses letting her stickiness coat his lips stirring a ball of fire in her pit, "shut up." She whines nudging him with her knee telling him to do something to relax her.

"Make me." He smirks tilting his head to suck her petal fold creating dirty seductive noises on purpose. She huffs taking the matters into her hands pulling him up towards her by a hard grip onto his hair, "ouch ouch!!" He quips shutting his eyes tight.

"Harry Styles you make me cum or I'm never letting you fuck me ever." She glares him and he gives out a defeated sigh naughtiness still lurking in his moss of irises, "bossy – kay! Sorry! Was kiddin' babe. 'M all here to please ye'." She nods her head curtly shoving him back down and he giggles at her when in an instant from an angry lil penguin she melted into a mush of gooe when Harry thrusted two fingers at once inside her curving them once they were buried snug deep.

"Yes. Yes. Yes." She gasps moving her hips along him that he stayed in his place eating her out while his fingers pushed in and out of her tight pussy with squelching noises, "fuckin' tight urghh." He grits rubbing her clit into harsh circles with his other hand, mouth on her cunt and fingers fucking her continuously.

"Want more?" He asks and she bobs her head not even processing what he said almost loosing the idea of her presence feeling too much ecastasy and over the clouds, "here take as much as ye' want baby." He slips another third finger admiring the way her pussy stretches swallowing his fingers, "'m gonna lick your little wet cunt off then clean it with me filthy tongue to make a mess of ye' all over again filling you full with me cock. Sounds good baby?" He knows she's the shy lil bean and his sweet enthusiastic words of vulgarism heats her up enough.

"Gonna come. Harry --" She tips her head down and back in air eyes rolling into her sockets. Harry rubs her outer thighs soothing her thrashing body, "shhh baby relax. You can cum on me fingers." She obliges him softening in his arms and her pussy makes soppy noises gushing with each wave of pleasure throbbing around his digits while he works her out to make her feel as giddy as he could, "That's it baby girl. That's it cum fo' me again?" He prods at the sponge of bump inside her seething through her twitching walls making it impossible for him to pull out and tent his cock against the bed leaving a spot of how turned on he's at the moment.

But, his first-most priority is her. It always was her maybe more than Chessie

"Happy my lil lioness?" He comes back on top of her arms digged on either side of her temple and she tries to squint from one eye pulling him to herself planting a rewarding kiss at his cheek, "how 'bout a pizza from Tommy's place?" He lays ontop of her (like half ontop of her and half on his side; just to share her warmth).

"Can I have an extra topping of olives, pretttyy pleaseee?" She makes a weird funny face to convince him, "but you're allergic to 'em." He frowns sitting up thumb hovering over the contacts popping on the screen. He has everything memorized she's allergic to; it's not much peanuts, olives and clay dough ( she claims that she ate it once when she was possibly 5 and it swelled her flesh up ) not that she's gonna nip at it now but Harry couldn't trust her cravings at all.

"But 'm craving them sooo baddd." She clutches the hem of his tattered shirt pouting but he retorts with the shake of his head intervining their fingers together to kiss her knuckles, "Nope moppet. We don't need another hospital visit at fou' in the morning like last time, do we?" She remembers it. A very angry Chessie at his doorsteps while he helped her walk inside this home post hospital visit.

"I hate this." She huffs folding her arms against her chest, "I know. How about we delay getting y'sick once babies are out?"

"You kidding?" Her mouth slacks turning into a widespread grin at last, "absolutely not. Pizza without olives yeah?" He smacks a kiss against her open mouth loudly before his phones rings at the pizza place.

//

Harry's the busy bee. From grocery shopping to making the list of all the organic food he needs to line up his pantry with, he took everything's responsibility on himself. Cause mama has a huge duty for wrapping two babies in her womb safe and heated. Even when she tries to bend down to put a plate in dishwasher he skates near her supporting her back and scolding her, "all you've t'do is eat and nap. Dunno fucks count 'cause we fuck alot — chill sweet baby. 'switch onto telly 'm bringing banana milk and cookies." She pouts because she doesn't want to be a burden on him. She wants to suspect any tiredness from his features — the way he's been on his trippy toes for her from eight and half months but how much she tries she couldn't instead he looks way more giggly and joyful than before with never ending dad jokes and teasing bum pats.

They indeed fuck alot. Harry loves that she's always sleepy and clingy — he thinks he's truly, deeply and madly in love with his lil penguin but they're in the middle of train's track whose destination is atlast confession of love but he wants to wait. He can't wait though. He's always been impatient and light from stomach can't sleep at night without sharing a word of his swimming thought with anyone. He shared it with Nialler, it was at three in the morning after Y/N sucked his cock dry with so much admiration for his prick he was bout to cry and blurt out but he didn't. Cuddled with her and oreo practically on his face then ringed his lad startling him up, "why did ya wake me up fo' something we all already know Harold? Do I've to teach ya lessons cause now that would be a shame to your kiddos." He grunted dropping the call leaving Harry baffled and alone to his thoughts again.

"Sweet angel . . " He cooes jarring the door to his room with his foot. She has moved in to his house, from guest room to his room and his heart. Told him she didn't like sleeping alone and gets the most amazing slumber squished up against his chest in his arms. He was ardent that she completes him. He's right. She does. Always had but this time it's till they're getting old and wrinkly.

Lilac walls glow from the telly's illumination and the flicker of light from their open wardrobe. His ears perks at a repulsive groan and his brows dips to tune into the situation, "what are ye' doin', pet?" He asks confused at the sight of Y/N in a funny position with a razor in her hand standing in the middle of their wardrobe trying to duck and see through her huge bump.

"'M tryin' to shave me legs — seems impossible though." She throws her head back to convey her annoyance and Harry chuckles placing the banana milk and the plate of dark chocolate cookies atop the drawer island taking her wrist which's holding onto the razor, "you don't 'ave to it's just a maternity shoot –- no biggie, moppet." She huffs. Their faces at level and intimately close to have a good stare in eachother's eyes.

"No biggie!? it's the first time I'll get to have someone take me pictures, all, personally fo' me." Her smile pouty as she tries not to break her disgruntled facade down.

"How 'bout the times, I was a victim of ye'r endless pictures taking sessions?" He squints down at her. Hands out of instinct fumbling by her sides to feel her warmth on his skin, "you were sooo shittt at that job."

"Kay, kay then, lemme just –- hand this razor, I'll shave ye'r legs pretty girl." Happily she shoves it in his grip while he knees down hiking her leg ontop of his knee. His pink tongue popping out in concentration. She trusts him in this because last time he was the one to shave herdown there. Taking a sip of her banana milk she taps the straw against his lips speaking, "a bestie in need is a bestie indeed." With his eyes on her ankle and his pretty hands which could make her come infinite times right now working so diligently, He gives her a high five taking a sip himself.

She breaks a cookie forwarding it to Harry and he looks up — so being all dramatic she acts shy and blushy turning her gaze away in a swift, "what baby?" He laughs putting her other foot on his knee his grip tight around her ankle.

"Don't stare at me calves like that you creep." He wipes away the crumbs from his lips giggling and making her giggle, "I've literally shaved your cooch days before." She jabs her big-toe against his nipple getting a high pitched squeak from a grown ass man in return.

"I hate you!" She says through the spurt of chuckles and his response in return turned both of them silent, "I know ye' love me." Their cheeks blazed. Eyes twinkling. Hearts doing lil dance dance but nobody from them tries to break the comforting silence knowing they'd word vomit the instant they'd.

They say "I love you." And "love you." in their normal routines without making it a mess of shyness. But the butterflies at that specific moment when the epiphany dawns on the pair that they really are in love with eachother makes their tummies float in void with butterflies.

"All done!" He announces enthusiastically kissing her knee like she's a princess in distress and the words burns at the plush of her lips, "love you."

"You too, lil penguin." He smiles boyishly.

"Oh fuck, I forgot we're gonna have shoot in our pyjamas." She yells in a low hum and he rolls his eyes slapping her ass, "rotten you're."

"Oopsies."

//

A maternity shoot in their back garden along oreo never seemed this fun when they were gushing about it days prior. Nialler gifted them cute baby pink coloured matching pyjamas with yellow peaches pattern, mommy and daddy embroidered on them. They even matched some fluffy kitten hats too!! A pair of yellow and pink with kitten ears with goggly eyes, big cheshire that of Oreo.

Their close friend Onna was all up for the shoot and nothing's more adorable than Harry's soft hands around Y/N's belly in a protective way, while they sat on the fluffy growing grass and cotton flowers. Her back resting against his taught chest, his legs wrapped on either side of her and oreo almost stretching atop her bump quenching loud belly ache laughs from them.

"Two pictures 'n 'm already tiredd, pff." She gasps shuffling a little to activate her sore bum and Harry pecks her shoulder cutely, "some more 'cause you'll grump later." Onna captures each every second of their tooth rotting interaction.

"Oi. I'll not!!" To avoid a banter Harry taps her chin pointing towards the camera speaking, "last one doll, one to show that we really are pregnant." Onna's laughing at their techniques. Shaking her head with each shot of overloaded sweetness she traps in her camera.

"I. Am. Indeed. Pregnant. Pet." She looks down with wide eyes rubbing her prodding tummy in circles, the top button litreally about to pop and Harry's face adorns with a naughty grin showing his bunny teeth, "Me too!!" He squeals rubbing his moth covered belly the same way she's doing and it sent both girls into fits of laughters.

"Sillllyyyyy." She sing-songs throwing an arm around the nape of his neck to bring him closer and smooch a loving kiss to his cheek, "you're gonna be the best dad." She whispers eyes closing into the diameter of his scent and he rests his lips against her forehead. Onna having a smile of adoration for her friends while she did her job, laying down to capture this one beautifully.

"Yeah?" His voice just audible to them. "Uhmm." She nods fiddling with the collar of his pyjamas and their bubbles pops when oreo tugs at Y/N's top revealing her graceful babies bump.

"You batty creature!!" She tries to grab oreo to smoosh her in her arms but oreo gallops miles away before it could happen.

//

The whole last night Y/N couldn't sleep. Tossing and turning with whines of complaints to a snoring Harry on her side. When Harry woke up she was already staring him like an owl scaring the poor thing, cause it wasn't a loving one. It was a proper creeping stare with baggy eyes and pouty lips, "can we have 'em out already?" She snuggles into his throat and he massages her head.

"In a week." He grogs out stroking his cheek against her's, "Have ya taken out all the required papers?" He asks her and she nods with a yawn. Today's the enrollment day for Y/N's next semester -- Harry will go to her UNI to talk to the administration instead of her.

"I'll be back in no time, till then try havin' a good rest, want some donughts from that one shop near ye'r UNI?" He thumbs at her baby locks. She shakes her head murmuring into his flimsy sweat shirt, "not feeling like it." Dunno what happened. She was alright after for finally her sickness went away but today she feels like shit because of her Braxton hicks climbing to painful peak.

Kissing her head last time he untangles himself to get ready and she watches him buttoning up his cuffs with his curl dangling over his eyes, he's looking handsome and a bit too out of her league with the crisp white shirt and chequered trousers.

He squats down pecking her lips. Her nostrils filling with cinnamon ocean-y smell soothing the tick of her nerves. Her body reacting to even the air pricking at her skin, "don't miss me too much, lil penguin." He gives her an eskimo kiss knowing she's feeling down and tired today the way she has her face squished into pillow and isn't trying even to cup his cheeks like she does everytime he leaves for something.

He puts her phone on the nightstand tugging her under the sheets, switching off the lamp and slowly exists the room not to disturb her. She doesn't know when he leaves but the pin-drop silence tells it all and she's half conscious half awake with fluttering eyelids.

She turns on her back with a groan to get rid of the dull ache in her pelvis and outer thighs — but then she feels something . . . . something wet between down there and it makes her snap open her eyes blinking blankly at the ceiling. Tries not to think of bad scenarios but it's otherwise.

"Holy cow of jesus." She fists the pillow under her sitting up with much difficulty and to her worst horrors the sheets are sploched badly. She stands up with her spine almost bending in two — staying calm and positive even when a heavy gush of water trickles down her legs soaking the rug. It has nothing attractive in it as they show in movies but rather feels like a dam leaking and a litreal adult peeing in their gowns.

She snatches the phone from nightstand putting a firm arm beneath her belly walking out of room, her maternity floral white gown clinging to her skin. A tinge of shock weaved through her bones but that didn't made her loose her balance. She wants to throw the phone against the wall when the line always beeps busy, "already missin — " his honey of voice bringing tears in her eyes.

"Get your ass back home!! Right fuckin' now!" She yells into speaker trudging forward with carefull steps. He pushes onto breaks hard, panicking into his seat, "What happened!?" He's quick in turning gears speeding back home. Her lips wobbles blue from pain and the unbearable throb between her thighs. Words struck in her throat as she tries to speak gripping the globe of stair railing leaning against it when a hard contraction striked against her spine.

"'M going into labour — " Harry's heart falls into his arse. His vision blurring from the intensity of the moment and he's thanking Gods for being five minute drive away from home. How many times they prepared for this time it all went in vain and now Harry's beating himself for leaving her side at all, "'m comin' home, it's okay baby, it's okay breath." His lips stammers from an invisible fear and fingers twitches around the wheel.

Wanted to shout at him "breath, my ass." Instead She gasps loudly in fright when she feels her cervix dilating to the maximum point and it did the last fireworks for her tears, "no, no, noo!!"

"'M giving birth!!" She shouts kissing her teeth together to keep the pain at the bay hooking a thumb into her panties, scrunching her dress up to press them under her armpits and squatting down with the heels of her palms pressed with so much strength over the last stair case, "what? oh my — 'm calling our midwife." She can feel a head trying to force it's way out from her vagina and it rakes out a sob from her chest.

"Please be gentle with mommy, 'm coming." Harry says and it comes out as a weak whisper while he drives sitting on the edge of the seat and Y/N's ears are ringing with white noise to even pay attention to what he's saying. Her gown drenching with sweat and she screamed at the top of her lungs pushing with her all might scaring a sleepy oreo in her bassinet, "Shit." He mutters tugging his curls back immediately calling their midwife. He wishes his babies could atleast wait for him to be there with their momma.

"Miss. Dori !! Y/N has gone into labour, 'm out, dunno —---" There's loud urgent shuffling on her side that of picking stuff and closing metal boxes as she assures Harry with firmness, "I'll be there in just 10 minutes, till then reach there as quick as possible. She needs you Mr. Styles." It collects sweat at the dip of his spine sky rocketing his anxiety. His breath elevating at the sight of his society's gate and if it was possible he'd have flown to her.

Parking hastily on the side of road and leaving his car's door open — dishelved he steps outside almost falling square on his face while the old couple that use to sit at their porch in mornings watch him with concern, "Is everythin' alright son?"

They ask and Harry nods yelling to them, "Y/N is in labour!!" His face blowing out of any color when his ears fills with painful screams of his lil penguin and his fingers jumbles with keys unlocking the door.

It's surreal. The realization not completely setting in that all of this's happening right at this moment, that he's going to be a daddy in some hours, Y/N hunched over the bottom stair squatting down with thighs wide apart and her gown soaked against her back. His breath knocks out of his lungs and eyes bursts into shock when he sees his baby's head pushing it's way out in between her legs.

"I can see it's head! I can see it's head oh m'godness." He announces rushing towards her and Miss. Dori guides him, "Harry help her pull it out, cup the baby's head and if it's shoulders are grab-able, have it out." He places the phone atop the stair sitting down beside Y/N kissing the side of her head quickly wiping her tears away.

"Hi baby, it'll be alright, 'm here now let's pull our bubba out mighty quick." He presses his chest to floor to look down there and if Y/N would have been in her good state of mind she'd have butt him in not to. His brows kinks tightly together as he tries to concentrate and not to pass out from the sight of blood and his blood covered infant half hanging in it's mother's v.

Gently he wraps his shivering palm around it's head and shoulder moreso figuring out if it could itself comes out, "push a bit more, moppet." She shakes her head furiously crying and trying with all her will, "It's hurts!!" He wishes the process wasn't that painful.

"I know, I know baby —- oh okay okay! We got him." He cackles through his worry taking him all out and in his arms having a good grip around it's tiny waist fearing it would slip. Y/N takes a huge sigh of relief muscles loosening and shoulders slumping. She could hear him sniffing close to her with little noises despite of how much she wants to hug him, she still has another one to bring out in the world.

"It's Elios." He grins with ablazed glossy eyes stroking his tweeny baby hair back. Though his excitement shatters into pieces as he cries to Miss. Dori, "He's not breathin, n'--not breathin' what do I do??" He has switched into his fight and flight mode. Fat tears spilling down his cheeks. Y/N wants to have him in her arms and make sure her baby's healthy but a hard contraction makes her bones jello with her another baby trying to pop out.

"Calm down Mr. Styles, Is his cord wrapped 'round his neck?" When Harry couldn't mutter a single word just shaking his head ear to ear staring down his little one with fear and sadness, Y/N screams for him, "No!!"

"It's nothin', clean his nose, it's probably some clotting blocking his breathing passage." Harry acts on her instruction without wasting a time and the threshold's walls bounced with prattle of his low coarse cries, "Oh my god!!" Harry gasps holding his baby boy closer to his chest not giving two fucks if his shirt and skin stains with thick blood.

In the meantime Miss. Dori and her assistant nurse tramps through their door. Cutting the cord Nurse takes Elios from Harry's arms and takes him for a cleanup as Harry leads her to their nursery. When he comes back Miss. Dori has their other bubba already out and it's worth watching him flying into clouds of paradise, full of glee, happiness, so much happiness has never experienced before.

"Hi. Victoria." He keeps his voice soft if she's a chinese porcelain doll and would break in his arms. He loves his son to core but the way his heart just swirled with fondness and love for his daughter the second she was layed into his embrace was something else. He's tender with her and from just gazing her it spurt out a sob from the deepest of his tummy, "she was so stubborn to come out rather than his brother." Miss. Dori tells him and his head perks up with proud adoration. Handing her to nurse he turns his gaze back to his exhausted lil penguin leaning against the wall now. And scoots closer to his bestfriend, the love of his life and the mother of his babies.

Hugging her warmly and affectionately, winding his arm around the nape of her neck to smoosh her into his chest while she cries against his throat. Being tender and the softest yet sweetest he could be with her, pressing his lips against her ear to whisper words that made her cry even more loudly into his bicep, "I love you, I love you more than anythin' in the world, 'm s' soo proud of ye' baby, me soulmate and the love of me life. I promise to love you forever and infinity." The world blurs around them and their heartbeats latches to sync in with eachother. The morning light cocoons them with softness and they don't care if they're sitting in a pool of blood, mess of the beautiful birth of their gorgeous twins.

"I love you too, so much." She hiccups pacifying down not wanting to never be able say them again as Harry runs a hand at her back, limbs still tangled with eachother, whispering sweet things to her while Miss. Dori pulled her placenta out, "Y/N?" He panics when she dulls in his arms head lulling at his shoulder and heartbeat slowing down to feeble a line. Gently pulling his face out from the cave of her neck he pats her cheek worriedly, again, at her unconscious state, her head dangling back over his wrist, "Y/N!?" His heart squeezing tight miserably into his ribcages when she doesn't respond to his calls.

"'M listenin', pet." She whispers smiling weakly and Harry's lungs nourishes with air, "Scared me baby love." He hugs her again with a wobbling pout and this time she tries to console him.

"Y'okay baby? Should we go to hospital? It's better if —--"

"'M okay!!" She simpers kissing the dip of his collarbone. Carefully he smoothes an arm down her back and knees picking her up bridal style to take her to their bathroom for a hot nice bath full of essential oils. He caress her face, trailing his knuckles down her cheeks, gazing her fondly while sitting down on the floor beside her with his one hand inside the warm water to lull around her calves.

"I love you, you've given me such beautiful babies. 'Ave ye seen Tori ? She's a proper you, that lil bunny mouth of yours, aish." He giggles and she squeezes his fingers in a silent gesture to tell him how happy she's. Drying her clean with a towel and moisturizing her body, making her wear her comfortable gown.

When he tucks her under sheets she babbles with droopy eyelids and tired body, "can I see my babies?" He smauches a kiss against her forehead, "After a teeny rest, yeah angel?" But, she was already out like a bulb making him chuckle softly.

//

Miss. Dori left the kind nurse behind with them till Y/N wakes up and with her help Harry lays down the twins on either side of their mommy. Deeply pondering how lucky he's to have his family completed and healthy, tucked into their mother's armpits.

He giggles and holds his breath in awe when Elio wriggles in his blanket, scootes his bum closer when Y/N yawns and stretches, "how ye' feelin'?" He brushes her loose tresses back and she nods attempting to sit up.

"Good." Thanking him when he gets comfy amount of pillows behind her, "wanna hold them?" He asks as she ducks down to kiss both of their soft skins.

"'M arms are still shakin' . ." She chuckles, "no biggie, I'll help ya out, a bestie in need is a bestie indeed." She giggles loudly startling Tori and Harry hushes her comically scooching behind her embracing her in a heated wrap from behind chin resting over her shoulder, "shh, gotta be quite with this one — such a light sleeper bub."

"This's Victoria Anne Styles and Elios Vincent Styles." He supports her one forearm with his's under: giving Elio to her and having Tori in his other, "are you presenting them to me as some kind of award for my bravery, pet?" She nudges him playfully and he shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.

"Such nice awards, innit?" He gives her an eskimo kiss and she puckers her lips asking for a loving smooch of his candy lips, "absolutely."

//

They took their first nap together with Harry and Y/N on either side of bed with their babies in the middle of their warmth just like a nest of sparrows, safe, comfy and utterly snuggly with the couple protecting their dainty creatures of soft flesh from the storms of outside.

"C'mere baby . . " Harry usheres Oreo with the snap of his thumb as she tries to canoodle into the soles of his feet tickling him and she obliges his tone, "Good girl . ." His own voice tired petting her crown when she turns into a lil ball of fur beside Tori who's sleeping at her daddy's side, being ever hesitant and carefull with them making Harry smile at her thinking of giving her treats in dinner.

He almost slips from under the sheets when a shriek of cry jolts him awake and it's Tori crying loudly thrashing under the blanket while her brother kept on sleeping stretched over his mommy's chest, head tucked under her chin.

Ah! Here comes the real deal. Daddy Harry's about to face real challenges 'cause we all know he once promised that he's a big boy now, innit?

[andvys]

Longing (part 17)

Warnings: angst, self destructive behavior, kinda self harm, kinda dark!reader

Pairing: Ellie Williams x reader

Author’s note: this took me way too long and it’s kinda rushed and not the best one I've written but I promise the next one will be better.

Opening your eyes slowly, you patted the spot next to you to find it empty, Ellie must've gotten up already. You noticed how tired and exhausted you were despite hours of sleeping. These past few weeks have really taken a toll on you and your health. Your body was full of scars and bruises and not just physically. Pain shot through your shoulder when you tried to get up, groaning you clutched your shoulder and fell back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling your thoughts drifted off to last night.

This has by far been the worst day since Joel’s death and you didn't even know what the worst part about it was. Torturing and killing Nora or fighting Abby and getting your ass kicked by her. You planned on killing her and yet you failed.

You were angry at yourself, you almost died yesterday and not just once and you only survived because of that boy. He prevented you from getting killed on the streets and he prevented you from getting killed by Abby, twice. You were getting weak and that was the last thing you needed right now, you had to stay strong in order to kill Abby, otherwise it wouldn't be her getting killed but you or even worse Ellie and Jesse and you would never let that happen.

Getting up, you ignored the pain in your shoulder and started to put on the clothes that Ellie laid out for you, you didn't even know where she got them from but you were thankful for not having to wear your bloody and dirty clothes again. Tying the laces on your boots you got up to find your reflection staring back at you through the large mirror.

Walking closer you almost gasped at the sight of yourself. Abby has done a good job on you, you were covered in bruises and new cuts that would surely leave scars. Your lip was busted and your throat was covered in dark purple and blue bruises. As if the big guy hadn't done enough, Abby had to leave marks of her own around your throat. You were surprised that you could still talk.

How could you let it get this far? No one has ever managed to cover you in so many bruises and you fought people twice Abby’s size before. You didn't even know who you were more angry at, Abby or yourself?

She was the one who put you in this state but you were the one that you let her. You let her beat you, you let her be stronger than you. You were so blinded by anger and rage that you didn't turn your logic on when you were fighting her, you just attacked her without thinking first. 

You were so incredibly angry at yourself. Your father would've laughed at you. 

‘how are you gonna survive in this world when you can't even defend yourself?’

Shaking your head you tried to get his voice out of your head but it kept repeating itself. You felt tears well up in your eyes, your breathing got heavier by the second and you couldn't stand looking at yourself anymore.

Balling your hand up into a fist, you punched into the mirror, breaking it, you sliced your skin open in the process but you didn't even feel it, you were consumed by anger. You just kept punching it until your hand was covered in blood.

Ellie was sitting in one of the seats, playing guitar when she heard the sound of glass shattering coming from the room you were in. Immediately she put the guitar down and rushed over to you, right when she was about to open the door, it was already pulled open by you. 

Startled at the sight of her standing there you jumped back slightly, blinking a couple of times, you went to move past her but she didn't let you. She looked at you in shock, her eyes drifted down to your bloody hand. She didn't know what to say, she could tell this wasn't an accident by the way you avoided looking into her eyes. 

“(Y/n)..” she whispered, with a shocked expression on her face.

“I’m fine, Ellie.” you mumbled, looking down.

“No you're not, give me your hand.” she said, grabbing your hand to examine the cuts. You didn't want her to see you like this but you knew there was no way that she would just let you walk away like this and you couldn't resist her puppy eyes anyways. “Alright, luckily there is no glass stuck in your skin.”

Pushing you back into the room she told you to sit on the bed while she went to grab some supplies.

“Okay, found some stuff..” she said, walking back into the room, glancing at the broken mirror briefly before she sat down next to you. Grabbing your hand gently, she started cleaning the blood off your hand.

You didn't even wince when she started disinfecting the wound with alcohol, too deep in thought to feel the pain. Ellie noticed that and eyed you worriedly. 

“Alright all done.” she said, grabbing your hand so you wouldn't try to leave again “babe?” 

Looking down, you didn't want her to look at your face, you looked broken and you knew it, you were supposed to look strong and not like some weak kid. 

“Babe look at me, please.” she pleaded, squeezing your hand. 

Taking a deep breath, you looked up at her, noticing the sad and worried look she had on her face. “I’m here, you can talk to me you know that right?” 

“I know.” you whispered. 

“I don't want to lose you (y/n).” she said, moving closer to you, she brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, looking at you with sad eyes.

Feeling your heart squeeze in your chest at her words you pulled her into a hug. “You won't lose me Ellie. I promise.” you said, holding her tightly.

She held onto you tightly, not wanting to let you go. She was so worried when you were out there all alone. She hated to think about you being in danger and she hated it even more that you were hurt and almost killed out there. She wanted to tell you to just stay here while she finished it but she knew there was no stopping you from going after Abby and you would never sit back while Ellie was out there on her own.

Pulling away you noticed the worried look in your lovers eyes, your gaze immediately softened “Ellie, I promise you that you won't lose me, I’ll be with for as long as I’m alive.” you said, pecking her lips softly. “We lost too much time with each other already don't you think?” you asked her.

She nodded her head, a sad smile tugging on her lips.

“Well it was kinda my fault..” you admitted ‘as always’ you thought to yourself.

“Hey we’re together now, that's all that matters.” Ellie said, bringing your hand up to her lips, kissing it softly. 

Your heart jumped at her saying you were together. 

“Together..” you trailed off “does that mean I can call you my girlfriend now?” you asked shyly 

Ellie’s eyes widened at your question, her heartbeat got increasingly faster. Never in a million years would she have though that you'd be the one asking her to be your girlfriend. She always guessed that she would be the one asking you that question. 

“I- of course, fuck.. of you can call me your girlfriend.. I mean I- always wanted to call you my girlfriend but- alright I will stop rambling now..” Ellie mumbled the last part. 

Smiling slightly at her, you leaned and kissed her lips softly, she grabbed your face and pulled you closer, kissing you back.

You probably didn't deserve her but you couldn't resister her, she made you feel alive, she made you feel safe and at home. Her touch was able to make you forget every worry that you had, she was able to calm you down even in times like this, she was like an anchor for you. 

Pulling away from the kiss, you looked into her eyes and all you could find there was love and adoration for you. 

��Come on, we have to discuss a few things.” you said, getting up, you grabbed your backpack and your swords. 

“Yeah hold on.” she said, grabbing your hand she turned you around and pulled you in again, kissing you one more time before you both had to go out there again.

Grabbing her waist, you pulled her closer, kissing her back.

“Hey sleepyheads I- oh my god... not again!” Jesse came bursting into the room and immediately left and closed the door again. 

Pulling away from her you furrowed your brows “what a dumbass” you said shaking your head. Ellie chuckled at you “He’ll never learn how to knock.” Ellie mumbled. 

“Yeah.. alright let’s go.” 

After you explained everything Nora told you about why they were after Joel you discussed the route to the Aquarium and were finally on the way there. It was raining and you could her the faint rumbling of thunder from afar. Ellie and Jesse were behind you, talking about Dina and the baby. You weren't in the mood to talk so you just walked ahead of them, keeping an eye out for infected or worse, people. 

You came to the conclusion that people were worse than infected. At least they couldn't help attacking you, it was their nature but people, they have the choice and yet they still do horrible things. Not that you were any different but at least you weren't enjoying this.

Perking up at the sound of voices coming from somewhere up ahead, you looked back at Ellie and Jesse motioning for them to hide. You ran behind a car, next to Ellie, pulling out your gun, you didn't even hesitate when you started shooting at them, the second you saw them. Ellie looked at you in surprise, this wasn't like you, you usually counted the enemies before jumping straight in to the line of fire.

She jumped up and started shooting at them too, killing one of them just in time before he went to pull the trigger of the gun that was pointed at your head. Jesse was shooting at them from the side.

They were quickly dealt with, you went to one of the soldiers and grabbed his rifle and his handgun.

Ellie and Jesse glanced at each other in worry.

“What the hell was that (y/n)?” Ellie asked with an accusing tone.

Turning around to look at her, you notice both Ellie and Jesse staring at you.

“What do you mean?” You asked, looking back in forth between them.

“That!” Ellie exclaimed, pointing to the dead soldiers. “That was dumb.”

Rolling your eyes at her, you turned around and went to walk away only to have Ellie pulling you back by grabbing your shoulder, you almost winced at the pain, she must've forgotten your injury.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me (y/n).” She demanded, looking at you with an angry expression. “This guy almost shot you.”

“So? He didn't, thanks to you.” You stated and turned around again, not wanting to keep talking about this.

You had to admit, what you did was stupid but you just wanted to get this over with as quickly as you could.

Ellie looked back to Jesse, not knowing what to do. He just shrugged and followed you.

After you encountered more WLF’s, you and Ellie parted ways with Jesse after overhearing a conversation about a sniper. You all assumed it must've been Tommy so Jesse went after him while you and Ellie kept moving towards the aquarium. Everything was going great until you saw more WLF’s fighting with another group, you wanted to get past them but they've seen your boat already and started shooting at you from afar. 

“Fuck this is the group I told you about.” you grumbled, you knew it was them by the way they were dressed. They all had long coats on when you saw them yesterday and these guys were dressed the same, so it was clearly them. 

“Let’s fuck em up then.” Ellie said, moving the boat near the house so you could go inside. 

Grabbing your your rifle out of your backpack you moved closer to them, they haven't seen you walk into the building yet, one of them was standing by the broken window looking for you and Ellie.

Aiming your rifle at her head, you pulled the trigger, her body fell to the ground. You heard more running down the stairs, aiming your gun at them you quickly shot them as well. This was easy. Too easy.

“(y/n)! watch out!” Ellie yelled

You turned around quickly, just in time to move out of the way when a man swung his hatchet at you. He grunted when he missed you, Ellie started shooting at him but missed when she was attacked by another guy, “Ellie!” you yelled out, you wanted to help her but you had to get past this guy first. 

You ran back, keeping distance between you and the guy in front of you, aiming your rifle at him, you pulled the trigger but it clicked empty. “Fuck.” you grumbled when the guy started walking towards you. You threw your rifle at him, hitting him in his face, you almost wanted to laugh at his expression. 

You grabbed both your swords out and waited for him to attack. He came towards you with a scowl on his face, swinging his hatchet at your head, you dodged it and swung your sword at his arm, cutting him deep with your blade. He cried out in pain but that seemed to piss him off even more, he lunged at you without swinging his hatchet this time but you already knew you won the fight when you saw his angry expression. Anger makes you stronger but it also made you dumber. He almost reminded you of yourself yesterday.

You ducked down and moved behind him, giving him no time to react you stabbed your sword through his back, the blade moved through his chest, he gasped and fell to the floor when you pulled your sword out. 

Turning around, you ran towards Ellie, just when you were about to help her she already stabbed the guy in the neck, making him grunt in pain. She pulled her knife out, blood splattered across her face making her cringe in disgust. 

“Fuck.. I hate these assholes.” she grumbled, wiping the blood away. 

“Me too.” you said, moving towards her you grabbed her face, noticing that she a cut on her cheek. 

She noticed the worried look on your face, grabbing your hand that was resting on her cheek she assured you that she was fine. 

“At least it’s not deep, it won't leave a scar on your pretty face.” you said, making her blush. “Even if it did, you'd still be the most beautiful girl.” you said, winking at her before you went back to the boat, leaving her standing there blushing.

She blinked a few times before snapping out of her thoughts, you always decided to tease her at the worst moments. Shaking her head, she followed you out.

You found an old arcade and were now looking for a way out of there. Happy about getting away from the storm for a second, your clothes were sticking to your skin, uncomfortably.

You were looking for supplies when you heard a load crash and Ellie’s scream. You pulled your sword out thinking she ran into infected or something you ran out of the room to find a large hole in the floor that hasn't been there before. “Ellie!” you ran towards the hole, looking down you found her laying there, grunting in pain “I’m fi- oh fuck!” she got up quickly “fucking bloater!” she cursed before running away. You saw the bloater go after her, groaning.

Your heart was beating so fast you were sure it would jump out. Putting your sword back, you prepared a molotov and lit up the rag before jumping down, grunting when pain shot through your ankle. 

Ignoring it, you ran towards the bloater and threw the molotov at him, lighting him up. His attention immediately turned to you instead of Ellie. He started walking towards you but Ellie grabbed her shotgun and shot him a couple of times, killing him. 

Looking at Ellie you were just about to ask her if she was alright when you saw two infected jump down from the second floor, rolling your eyes you grabbed your swords out “they are mine.” you said, Ellie moved out of the way watching you, one infected ran towards you while the other one still struggled to get up. You stabbed it through it’s chest, his movement stilled and you pulled your sword out, splattering blood on your clothes in the process, moving towards the other infected, just when he was about to get up, you swung your sword at it’s head, the blade cut clean through his neck. 

Shaking the blood off your swords you put them back. Turning around to look at Ellie, you noticed her staring at you “that was..kinda hot.” she said, scratching the back of her neck. 

Snorting at her “you think me being all wet and covered in blood is hot?” you asked, not realizing the way it sounded until you saw her smirk at you. 

Shaking your head, you turned around to move upstairs and search for a way out. 

“You gotta admit, that did sound kind of wrong..” you heard Ellie say from behind you. 

“Whatever..”

After some struggles with the boat and a tidal wave almost drowning you and Ellie you managed to find your way to the aquarium. 

“You okay with facing her again?” you asked Ellie, eyeing her in worry. 

“I should be the one asking you this but yeah I just wanna finish it.” she said, looking through the broken window before jumping inside.

You followed her inside, looking at her, you noticed she was staring back at you, silently asking you if you were okay with seeing her again. 

“I’m gonna be fine Ellie.” You assured her, squeezing her hand before moving further inside.

“hey, we can go crawl through here.” you pointed to the vents. 

“yeah that could work.” Ellie said, moving towards it, she crawled inside. 

Following her inside, you started crawling.

Suddenly you heard a weird noise and Ellie stopped crawling “oh.. no.” she grunted before the vent broke and she went falling down. 

“Fuck Ellie!” you called out, crawling faster towards the hole when you suddenly heard barking. Jumping down, you saw the dog on top of Ellie barking and trying to bite her, you quickly grabbed your knife out of your belt and stabbed the dog, throwing it off her. “Are you okay?” you asked, helping her up. 

“yeah, stupid dog.” she grumbled. 

You looked down at the dog sadly, you used to love dogs. 

“alright come on.” you said. 

You walked through an empty room, checking it out before moving into the next one. You found a bag laying on the floor, moving towards it, you crouched down and looked inside, finding a familiar necklace, it had a firefly on it and the name Owen Moore.

Your father used to have one of those too, he always had it with him, even after they kicked him out. He died with that stupid necklace around his neck. 

“hey what you got there?” Ellie asked, snapping you out of your thoughts, she came up from behind you.

“uh firefly necklace, belongs to that Owen guy.” you said, giving it to her. 

She examined it before throwing it back into the bag. 

“Let’s keep moving” she said, before leaving the room. 

You went after her, stopping in front of a door. You heard muffled voices coming from behind that door. Glancing at Ellie you nodded your head, telling her to go in. 

She opened the door quietly and walked inside with you behind her, you saw two people fighting they were talking about Abby. You definitely recognized them both from that day. 

Just when the women was about to leave she spotted you and Ellie, gasping, she backed away, alerting Owen who looked surprised at you two standing there. “Hands up!” Ellie ordered, aiming her gun at them. They did what she told, putting their hands up.

Pulling your sword out, in case any of them tried anything, you stood next to Ellie. 

“Where’s Abby?” Ellie asked, pointing her gun at the women.

You glanced at Owen who seemed to study your and Ellie’s faces. Realization struck his face “you two are from Jackson.” 

“Tell me where she went!” 

“How do we know you won't kill us?” the women asked, with a shaky voice.

“You give her what they want’s and we’re both dead.” Owen said.

“You guys can survive this, we just want her.” you said, hoping they would just tell you where she was, you were tired of killing people. 

“Bullshit.” 

Ellie pulled her map out, looking at the women “you. come here.” she said calmly.

“Fucking get over here!” Ellie said with an angry voice. 

The women went over to her, with a scared look on her face. 

“point to where she is on the map.” she said “and then you.” she pointed her gun at Owen “and it better fucking match up.” she said, aggressively.

“Okay..” the women said, looking at the map “what are you doing?” Owen asked angrily.

“She's probably dead anyway!” she exclaimed 

“It’s not worth it.” he said, moving closer to her “back off buddy.” you said, pointing your blade towards his neck, he immediately stepped back.

“point to where she is.” Ellie ordered, her voice was heavy, rage and anger filled her. You felt it radiating off her, you don't think that you have ever seen her this way.

“fucking point!” she yelled at the women, pointing her gun at her, Owen tried to move past your swords and grab Ellie’s gun but you were faster than him, you kicked him in his stomach making him gasp, he clutched his stomach, stepping back.

You heard the women yelp at the sight of you attacking Owen.

He straightened up and tried to punch you but you dodged his fist and threw a punch at his face, deciding to get this over with as quick as possible you stabbed your sword through his chest. He gasped out in pain, looking into your eyes in horror, you couldn't help but stare back into his eyes, you realized how terrified he looked. A shiver ran down your spine at the way he was looking at you. He started falling down to his knees, the weight pulling you down with him when he fell. Pulling your sword out you let him fall back. Looking down at him in shock you looked down at his dead body, his eyes still open. 

“oh no.. no...no..!” you heard Ellie mumble from behind you “oh fuck..” 

Turning around slowly you looked up at Ellie who was clutching her stomach while walking backwards, she looked like she was about to have a panic attack.

Looking down on the floor where the women was laying dead on the floor, you noticed her stomach. She was pregnant. Your eyes widened and then looked at Ellie who fell down on her knees. 

“Fuck...” you sighed, getting up you ran towards Ellie, dropping down on the floor in front of her, you grabbed her face in your hands “Ellie...”

She was sobbing, trying to catch her breath. “fuck Ellie.. breathe with me” you said, grabbing her face with one hand you made her look at you and put her hand on your chest “breathe with me Ellie.” you said, she nodded her head, feeling your heartbeat and your chest move under her hand. She tried to take deep breaths, your touch and your voice immediately managed to calm her down.

“You're doing great baby.” you whispered, pulling her closer when her breathing got slower.

You were so distracted with calming her down that you didn't hear the door open or the footsteps coming your way until you heard your name being called. Looking up you found Tommy and Jesse standing there, looking around you.

Jesse looked at the pregnant woman in shook, while Tommy made sure that Ellie was alright. He helped you get her up “come on, let’s get out of here.” he said. 

You grabbed Ellie’s hand and started to pull her out of the room. She turned to look back “come on, don't look Ellie.” you said, grabbing her waist you guided her out, glancing at Owen’s dead body one last time.

You weren't sure if you would recover from this. If Ellie would recover from this.

You have killed before but never like this. You would never forget the way he looked at you when you stabbed your sword through his chest. 

You always told yourself that you only kill when it’s absolutely necessary but was it necessary this time? You could've just knocked him out but you didn't. 

You were done with this, you didn't want to do this anymore. 

You just had to kill one more person. Just one person and then this all would be over.

[aimeelouart]

Repurposing a bit of server freewriting for part 2 of purring!Cloud (Saving Subject C AU). Lil’ bit of whump, lil’ bit of hurt/comfort, and lovely fluffy cuddles

Also doubles as a preview if we end up going in a certain direction, but tbh I doubt it. Either way, spoiler free.

--

Cloud held pressure across his stomach, grimacing as the pain came and went in throbbing waves. He’d already pulled the shrapnel out so his body wouldn’t seal around it. Now it was just a matter of staying still and keeping pressure on until it closed enough for him to safely move.

His chest was doing the fucking thing (he refused to put a name to it) but he couldn’t make it stop, which didn’t make any sense. Didn’t cats only...do the thing when they were happy? Why was it happening to him now? 

Fuck, at least the SOLDIERs weren’t around to hear it.

“Cloud!”

The call was still fairly distant. Cloud loosed an involuntary, irritated grunt at the sound. Shit, they were persistent. Maybe that wasn’t surprising. He had run off and destroyed Shinra property at the first available opportunity. With any luck, his hiding space would work until the hole in his side closed and he could make a proper escape. It didn’t have to be long. Just...long enough.

Gaia, he was starting to feel lightheaded. He cracked an eye open and checked the size of the blood puddle spreading from his side. It was much wider than he’d hoped. He might be in more trouble than he thought.

“There you are.”

Cloud breathed out a heartfelt “fuck” as Sephiroth’s voice reached him. Grimacing, he tilted his head enough to see the silver-haired demon kneeling and peering into the dark space beneath the broken lift Cloud was using for cover. He snarled at the man, but it was half-hearted at best. Even if he somehow found the strength to take up his commandeered knives again, he was too weak to run, never mind fight.

He’d miscalculated, and how he was going to pay for it.

But…

But.

Sephiroth didn’t sound angry when he dropped down onto his stomach and slid as far into the narrow space as he could. “Cloud, where are you hurt?” He sounded…concerned, alarmed, maybe even a little bit…afraid? “Cloud?”

“Fuck off,” Cloud slurred, confused. His sight was starting to gray a little bit around the edges. A real pang of concern shot through him. Had he missed an exit wound?

Sephiroth snorted a little, disbelieving. “Even when you are bleeding out, you still…” He reached, but even his long arm wasn’t quite enough to snag Cloud’s shirt. “Cloud, can you move toward me? Just a little bit.”

He hunkered down into himself, trying to apply more pressure. The pain was fading, and he still couldn’t make the stupid rumbling stop. “No.”

“I can’t help you unless you move a little bit, Cloud.”

“Fuck off,” he repeated, eyes starting to slide shut.

Another voice. “Seph?”

“He’s here. I can’t reach him.”

Cloud’s eyes shut all the way.

“Let me try. Here, Angeal, take my coat for a second.”

The voices were starting to sound like they were coming from underwater. Cloud felt, distantly, that this was definitely the point at which he should have been outright alarmed. He’d missed something. Probably an exit wound on his back, based on the blood loss. He’d be fine, even if they left him where he was, but they weren’t going to do that. He wished he had the strength to grab one of his knives.

“Cloud, sweetheart, can you say something?”

He found the will to say “fuck off” a third time. It sounded like “f’k ov.”

Genesis—that was Genesis—snorted. “Okay. Okay, I’ve…” Fingers snagged the edge of his sleeve. “…got you! I’ve got you, come on.” He pulled, sliding Cloud across the blood-slicked ground until he could grab an arm, and then Cloud was dragged from the safety of his hiding space and out into the light. Alarms were still going off in the distance. He smirked weakly.

“Shit, kiddo,” someone breathed as he was rolled onto his back. He couldn’t quite find the strength to keep his hand over the wound and it fell limply to the ground. “Did you⁠—is this a shrapnel wound? Cloud, did you pull it out?”

Duh, he thought, unable to articulate his disdain.

“Later, Genesis,” someone else said. Large, strong hands provided the compression Cloud wasn’t able to any more.

“I need to see his back. Get the shirt off.”

His shirt was cut off as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He was shifted, then propped up across someone as two more hands pressed down on either side of his torso. Magic flooded his body, sealing the path carved through his flesh. The gray retreated a little as another flood of magical energy compensated for his blood loss until his body could make up the difference. 

And, finally, the stupid purring stopped. He really, really hated that it seemed to be involuntary.

Cloud was shifted again, wrapped up in something primarily leather and then picked up like a swaddled infant. Fucking rude, he thought, struggling to drag his leaden eyelids up. A vaguely silver blur hovered above his face. He tried to object, but what came out of his mouth was closer to a grumpy kitten growl than articulated displeasure.

“Hush,” someone said. It might have been the silver blur. A water bottle was pressed against his lips and since he wasn’t completely self destructive, he drank.

“Little idiot. What was your plan, hmm? To bleed out under there?”

That was probably Genesis. Out of pure spite, Cloud managed to spit out a “yeah” in response.

A frustrated noise. A tired sigh. A rumbling, half-stifled laugh against his ear.

“Stop antagonizing him,” someone said. A hand passed over his face, brushing his staggering eyelids down. Tired, he let them stay closed. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk about appropriate responses to severe bodily harm later.”

And Cloud was...increasingly confused. It was hard to think, drained and cold and barely hanging on to consciousness, but none of this was what should have been happening. They were threatening...scoldings? No one was angry. He’d destroyed a massive amount of Shinra property, practically spat in their faces, and somehow no one was angry.

He shivered, and it had nothing to do with the chill.

--

Cloud’s little stunt had scared the hell out of them. It wasn’t that they didn’t care that he’d demolished Shinra property and made their job fending off the Turks much, much more difficult—they did—but when they’d started searching, they really had thought it would be a tiny, lifeless body they found. Any anger and frustration they might have felt paled in comparison to the sheer relief of finding him alive.

Sephiroth was the one watching him (hiding him, more or less), while Genesis and Angeal dealt with getting all of them back to the Tower in one piece. It wasn’t going to be easy, but Cloud was so little and this event just reinforced the fact that only SOLDIERs had any hope of containing him. Hopefully that would bolster their argument rather than encourage Science to get involved, because...well, forget what he and Genesis and Angeal would do to save the kid, Cloud himself would rip the whole department to shreds using only his teeth if they even tried to take him.

On some distant level, Sephiroth wondered how Cloud had managed to ensnare the three of them (and more SOLDIERs besides) so quickly. Or at all. Sephiroth wasn’t supposed to have a heart. He was supposed to be the pure paragon of SOLDIER, a soulless weapon forged only to mete out death. But here he was, holding a child safe in his arms and feeling his breath stutter every time he wondered what it would have been like to find a cold, unmoving body beneath that broken equipment.

Cloud was asleep, face milk-pale where it rested against the dark leather of his coat. He had proper blankets now, and Sephiroth’s own body heat besides. Angeal had been very clear about that—Cloud was not to be without a heat source until he was no longer anemic.

Not that Sephiroth would have willingly put him down. He found himself oddly agitated at the thought of not being able to feel the boy’s heartbeat beneath his palm. And, more than that...he felt unwilling to give up the strange, powerful contentment he felt just having Cloud safe in his arms.

“Seph?”

He startled a little, moving his eyes from Cloud’s face to find Genesis standing with one hand on the door frame, watching them with an unreadable expression. “...yes?” Sephiroth responded when Genesis didn’t continue. He realized that he had been shifting back and forth from foot to foot without noticing. When had that started?

“...you’re purring.”

What? He stopped—he stopped breathing entirely, actually. They’d told him about Cloud’s near-violent reaction to his own purring weeks before, but only now did he really understand. Because humans weren’t meant to be able to do that.

“Hey,” Genesis said quickly, crossing over to touch his arm, “stop. I know what you’re thinking.” His eyes were unusually gentle, maybe because he was riding the same relieved high Sephiroth was. “But...aren’t you glad Cloud isn’t alone?”

Aren’t you glad you’re not alone?

And he...was. He really was, once the thought was put to words. Cloud had been frightened by his own body and abilities, but he didn’t need to be anymore. Not when Sephiroth was with him. Neither of them were alone.

The rumbling started back up. He thoughtlessly leaned his head down and pressed his cheek to Cloud’s damp, unruly hair. The boy smelled like mako and blood and explosives. Sephiroth didn’t mind at all.

Genesis huffed a laugh, but it choked a little, and Sephiroth cracked an eye open inquisitively. “You’ve...you’ve never been injured enough or happy enough to do this before, have you?” he asked.

Oh. Was that it? He thought it might have been in response to Cloud, somehow, but...he really hadn’t ever felt such powerful relief and contentment until today, had he? Objectively, that was probably sad—that’s what Genesis’s expression was telling him. He didn’t much care though. There were more important things to think about.

So he just hummed noncommittally and gathered Cloud a little closer, shutting his eyes again. When Genesis huffed a second laugh, it was much lighter.

“So,” Genesis said, nudging him, “when is it my turn to play space heater?”

Sephiroth growled.

[elizabeethan]

Watch the Sunlight Fade: 13 / 17

Emma Swan finds out that her boyfriend has been hiding something from her: he’s in a gang and trying to get out. Reluctantly, she decides to support him, sticking it out with him until they have enough money to flee to Florida. All she has to do is wait and ignore that feeling in her gut that something is seriously wrong. With the help of a kind and handsome stranger, she just might make it out alive.

Or, alternate summary: I’m horrible at summaries, please just read it.

Something of a cross between a What Still Remains AU and a Sons of Anarchy AU.

A/N: Heyooo time for more smut! And more answers. And more cliffhangers.

Rated M

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Read on Ao3

~~~~

The destruction in the apartment is clear the moment she walks in, feeling Killian’s watchful eye leave her as she shuts the door. There’s broken glasses and plates on the floor, Neal having cleared off the counter in what she assumes is his anger. She can’t think of another reason for him to be so destructive, picture frames smashed in the living room and fluffy pillow feathers flying through the air, but she certainly allows her mind to wander. 

  What if he knows? They’ve been careful, but what if someone besides Rufio had seen them? 

  “Neal?” She asks tentatively, clutching the strap of her purse tightly. 

  She hears another crash from his bedroom in response to her voice and cringes. The door opens forcefully, slamming shut behind him as he storms into the living room to meet her. 

  “Where the fuck were you?” he asks threateningly. 

  “I was at the store,” she answers, her voice small and weak, although she thinks it unwise to make a show of strength. “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong?” he spits. He fumes in anger again and picks up a vase that she had filled with flowers she bought herself, hurling it at the wall to her right and sending water and glass towards her. “Rufio is fucking dead , that’s what’s wrong!”

She pales immediately, realizing that he must know of their involvement in his death. There’s not much for her to say, unable to defend herself as she and Killian both know that their actions were wrong. She only wonders now if he also knows of the affair they’ve started. “Neal…” she croaks out in terror, unsure how to continue. 

  But to her surprise, he falls to his knees, his hands catching his head as he lets out a sob. “Who would do this?” he cries, sending her mind racing. “Who would kill my friend?”

  She shifts, the sudden realization striking that he isn’t angry at her, he simply finds it appropriate to take his anger out on her. She has to adjust now, unable to hold onto the fear of him discovering her dangerous secret and required to shift into her role as doting girlfriend. She has to keep up appearances, as much as it pains her to do so. 

  “Babe,” she says softly, “I’m so sorry.”

  Once she’s close enough to him, he grabs at her hand, pulling her roughly into his arms and squeezing her too tight. His actions are forceful, but not at all surprising. He holds onto her, sobbing into her hair and making her cringe as he cries for his loss. He says things like, how could someone do this to me, and it makes her realize that he isn’t sad about his friend’s death. He’s sad that someone has hurt him. He thinks this is personal. 

  While he cries, she looks around the apartment and wants to cry herself. He’s broken so many things, and even though almost none of it was hers, she still feels sadness in the wake of the destruction she sits in. When she looks to the bookshelf frightfully, she realizes she doesn’t see the one and only object that she covets as hers and lets a tear escape. 

  He’s angry. But he didn’t have to take his anger out on the one thing that he knows means something to her. 

  ~~~~

  “The Kings of Elsinore will pay for what they’ve done to us,” Peter says commandingly, his fist slamming against the table before him and making Emma startle. Many of the men around the table nod, grunting in agreement, including Killian. 

  He’s careful not to stare at her too much, although it’s difficult. Aside from his love for her and his disbelief at her beauty, it’s hard not to stare in an attempt to ensure that she’s alright. They haven’t been able to talk since she left this morning, but he doesn’t see any evidence that she’s been harmed. He knows that doesn’t mean she hasn’t been, though. 

  “The murder of Rufio was a heartless and psychotic act with the intention of hitting us where it hurts. Rufio was heir to one of our club’s founding members, and his death will not go unpunished.”

  Killian shudders in his seat, the action making Rob turn to look at him and cock his head. He’s sure Peter means it, and he’s sure Killian’s punishment will be worse than anything he doles out to the Kings if he finds out. 

  He can’t find out, though. Because if he does, he could find out why it happened, and he can’t risk Emma’s safety like that. 

  “We’re going to hit back, which is why Miss Swan is here today,” he continues. His words draw Emma’s attention up from her hands as her big eyes stare at Peter. “It has become imperative that you identify something we can use against the Kings. Any help you need, you’ll have. Hook,” he calls, shifting his focus.

  “Aye?” 

  “Continue to assist Miss Swan in her search. Remove the security features if you have to.” 

  “If it’s alright,” Robin starts, causing Killian’s eyes to grow twice their size, “I’d like to help as well. I believe my tracking skills may be useful in helping Miss Swan decide where to look.” 

  “Fine,” Peter agrees, waving him off. “As for the rest of you, prepare for a battle. If it’s a fight they want, then a fight they shall have.” 

  ~~~~

  She drops into the too-firm chair and it squeaks under her weight, a groan escaping her lips as she jimmies the mouse of her computer. He can’t help the small smile that pulls at one corner of his mouth, her dramatic entrance bringing him joy despite the stress they're all under. 

  No one says anything at first; it’s awkward with Rob being here despite him being one of Killian’s closest friends. Even though he trusts him with his life, he isn’t sure he’s ready to hear the truth of their relationship after how many times he insisted that Killian avoid this. 

  Once her computer boots up, she straightens and he takes a seat in his usual spot, gesturing to another folding chair across the room in an invitation for Rob to sit. “Want me to remove the securities, love?” 

  “No, I don’t want you to remove the securities ,” she responds in a mocking tone, mimicking his accent as she rolls her eyes. “I’m not a damn child; I know how to take off parental controls.” 

  Killian raises his brows, looking at her in surprise, and asks, “then why haven’t you?” 

  “Because I’m also not an idiot,” she responds, glaring at him before turning back to the aged screen. “I’m not stupid enough to try and go against Peter’s rules.” 

  He gives her a small smile, one that he can’t seem to give to anyone else, and can't seem to help giving her, and nods. “That’s right,” he agrees softly, his voice just barely above a whisper. He almost forgets his place, wanting nothing more than to lean forward and plant a kiss on her beautiful-- if not thoroughly chewed up-- lips. It’s obvious enough that something’s irritated her, and he wants to get to the bottom of it and console her so that the light comes back into her eyes. He’s greedy like that, he supposes. 

  “I bloody knew it,” he hears, Rob’s grumbling voice yanking him violently from his thoughts and his desires. 

  Killian turns quickly, as does Emma, both of them staring at Robin in surprise, as if they forgot about their audience. 

  “You’re fucking her,” he accuses, nodding and tightening his jaw. “Killian, mate, how many times have we talked about this--” 

  “Rob,” he starts hurriedly as he stands, his hands held out in a plea. Without words, only his eyes communicating to his friend, he begs for forgiveness and discretion and kindness. “Mate…” 

  He can’t even look at Emma yet because he knows that the look on her face will break him. He knows that she must be gnawing at her lip, her brows high on her forehead and her eyes desperate and terrified. “I’m not going to say anything,” Rob finally says, his eyes meeting Emma’s rather than Killians, confirming his hunch. “You two have royally fucked up, but your secret’s safe with me.” 

  He hears her sigh and worries that she could be crying, so he turns to her. He’s met with her dropping her head into her hands in relief, and he hurries to squat in front of her, taking her hands in his. “It’s alright,” he whispers, running his thumbs over her knuckles. Her dim, glassy eyes meet his and she shakes her head. 

  “We can’t-- he knew after two minutes. We have to go,” she murmurs softly, but he sees something shift in her. She sits up slightly straighter and gazes into his eyes seriously. “Can we trust him?” 

  “Yes,” he confirms while he squeezes her hands. He knows they can, but he turns back to look at Rob anyway. 

  “You can trust me, lass,” he vows, understanding as Killian begs him to. “I swear I won’t say a thing, but you’re playing a dangerous game. What’s the plan here?”

  “We’re leaving,” Killian answers simply. “As soon as possible. We would have tonight, but Neal came back early.”

  “He didn’t come back early, you dolt. They never left.”

  He pales, his face falling, and he feels Emma's squeezing his hand. She must be thinking exactly what he is. They had both assumed that Peter and Neal somehow heard about Rufio and had returned, but the fact that they hadn’t even left is somehow more concerning. 

  “How… how did they find out?”

  Rob snorts, shaking his head. “Right, you were too busy to-- hang on. Killian… tell me you didn’t--”

  “Rob--”

  “You didn’t. ” His face falls pale as well, the look he gives his friend chilling. Killian can feel the disappointment and terror radiating off of his oldest friend easily, and it does nothing to quell his nerves. “Killian, tell me right now that you didn’t kill him.” 

  “I had to,” he whispers, shaking his head in self hatred. “He attacked her. Said he would-- he said--”

  “ Fuck, he caught you, didn’t he?”

  “Robin,” Emma interrupts, trying to stop the two of them from going at it and speaking too loudly. They’re bound to tip someone off if they keep this up. “What Killian did… He knows it was wrong, but there wasn’t much of a choice. Rufio attacked me. He was protecting me, and now… I have to protect him. We have to get out of here, because if they find out that Killian shot Rufio, he’ll be worse off than your friend, Liam.”

  Rob is quiet for a moment, allowing Killian to absorb her words. She’s right, of course. They’ll deliver him a fate much worse than that of his brother if they find out. 

  “Too right, love,” Rob agrees finally, nodding and running his hands over his face. “I’ll help you however I can, so long as the two of you take me as well.”

  “Of course, brother. I’d hoped to grab Tink and Elsa as well.”

  He and Emma hadn’t spoken of his previous dalliances, and he only hopes that his intention to bring Tink along with them doesn’t offend her. It’s not as if he plans on staying with her long, but she deserves to get out just as much as they do. 

  “Only because of Liam, and Tink is--”

  “It’s okay,” she cuts him off with a smile, her hand squeezing his. “Of course we’ll bring them.”

  He can hardly take the amount of love he has for her, her unequivocal understanding of every piece of him hard to wrap his mind around. He gives her a genuine smile, and her gaze meets his, giving him the beaming sunlight in her eyes of which he’ll never tire. 

  ~~~~

  The service they hold at the Rabbit Hole is only slightly deranged. The message is clear enough: Rufio’s loss of life is seen as a personal attack against the club. His death is not sad because his life ended, it’s sad because the club is suffering. 

  It’s nauseating. 

  The only thing that keeps her head on straight is Killian, the gentle looks he shoots her from across the bar where he sits with Rob shooting warmth through her heart and to the pit of her stomach. His presence is so soothing, so grounding. It makes her feel steady and strong to be with him, to even be near him. 

  Each time she catches him glancing at her out of the corner of her eye, she feels her heart rate picking up. He drives her mad, she’s discovered. They’ve only just begun their relationship with one another, but it feels stronger than any she’s ever been in if only based on the physical connection they have with one another. She’s never felt this way about anyone before. She’s been with men before, men before Neal, but it was always transactional and cold. It was fine, but it wasn’t great. With Killian, it’s mind numbing. 

  He reads her effortlessly and flawlessly. He knows exactly what she needs when she needs it. He’s known exactly how to bring her over the edge each time, and she can only foresee their sex life getting better as they grow closer and closer. She can’t wait to grow closer to him. 

  The overwhelming feelings of disgust and discomfort are washed away easily each time he stares at her and are replaced by a feeling of undeniable need. The pressure builds where she needs him the most, arousal washing over her and through her until she can barely stand it, and the feeling of Neal’s hand landing on her shoulder makes her jump. “Want a drink, babe?” he asks, as if completely forgetting the conversation they had last night. He hasn’t even bothered to ask her of the results of her tests yet. 

  “I’m actually gonna just run to the bathroom,” she says with a smile. “Not feeling great, I’ll be back.” 

  She doesn’t give him a chance to respond before she stands and heads towards the bathroom, relying on the dank darkness and the slowly dripping faucet to distract from the overwhelming moodiness of the bar and her overwhelming arousal at the thought of Killian’s hands on her. 

  She focuses on her breathing for a moment, hoping to slow things down around her and calm her racing pulse. The sense of peace is short lived; the door opens slowly, making her heart rate pick up. But when she sees him, she relaxes easily, a smile creeping onto her face. “You need to be careful,” she insists quietly, although she can’t help but giggle as he locks the door and pounces on her. 

  He lifts her onto the counter and his lips are on hers instantly, his hands gripping her ass and pulling her towards him. Her legs wrap around his and her arms grab for his shoulders, her nails digging into the rough fabric of his button down shirt. 

  With his mouth trailing hot kisses along her flesh, his teeth scraping against her neck, he finds his way to her collarbone and murmurs, “I couldn’t stand being away from you a moment longer.” 

  She gasps in surprise at his words, a wave of arousal rushing through her and landing in her core, twisting her and encouraging her to tighten her legs around him in search of friction and pressure. “Fuck,” she whispers as his hands and lips move the cup of her bra to the side. 

  “Do you want this?” he asks, seeking consent before latching his lips to her hardened nipple. She nods fiercely. “ Gods , how I crave you.”

  “Killian,” she breathes, “touch me.” 

  His mouth devours hers again, his hand sliding down the front of her and finding the waist of her jeans. He tugs, drawing her closer to him and, without breaking their lips apart, snaps her button undone and slides her zipper down quickly. 

  “Are you wet already, Emma?” he asks roughly, his fingers sliding over the cotton that’s already nearly soaked through. He growls. “You are; that’s a good girl.”

  “Yours,” she mumbles, her arousal taking over and her mind barely able to keep up with what her mouth says. 

  “Aye, mine,” he agrees, nipping at her bottom lip. He pushes her garment aside and slips his fingers through her folds, groaning when he finds her sodden for him. “So responsive,” he praises. “So perfect for me.”

  With a moan as his mouth presses to the sensitive skin under her earlobe, she nods again, wanting to reinforce to him that she’s his . Only his. Simply, she tells him, “I love you.”

  His fingers glide over her clit, pinching quickly and dragging a whimper from her throat. “I love you so much I can scarcely breathe,” he whispers. “I can’t stand to be away from you.”

  “Then don’t make me wait,” she begs in a whisper herself. 

  He moves his hand away from where she craves him and quickly moves his own jeans, and Emma wriggles until her pants are falling around her knees. “We’ll leave tomorrow,” he vows, smoothing his weeping cock along her clit as she wrestles with the condom wrapper. When she finally has it open, she places it over his tip and slides her fist down to the base. 

  “Where will we go?” 

  She gasps when one finger slips into her followed closely by a second, curling against her expertly and sending her searching for his mouth with hers. He swallows her cries when his thumb gently presses against her clit. 

  “Your heart’s desire, Swan,” he says, lining his cock up to her waiting entrance. “I promise, that’s all I want you to have.” 

  Their foreheads press together, their noses too, and she bites her lip as he pushes inside. She clings to him, her fingers gripping the back of his shoulders, her heels digging into his backside, her core squeezing around his cock. After a few perfectly timed, perfectly angled thrusts, she whispers, “I just want you.”

  He holds her so close to him as one hand grabs onto her ass and the other holds her jaw and neck. His thrusts are quick, but deep and effective, striking her exactly where she needs him. He groans when she clenches around his cock again. 

  His hand slips around from her back so that his fingers can dance over her clit with each thrust. Emma moves her hands up to the back of his neck, gripping his hair and begging him for more in each moan against his mouth. It’s not long before he has her a writhing mess in his arms, pleading for release. 

  “Come on, angel,” he encourages gently but firmly as he gives her another flawless thrust. “Nice and tight for me, aren’t you? I know you’re ready, love. Come for me.”

  His voice is tenacious, but still so tender, so caring in the way that he loves her. She’s never felt so loved and safe while being spoken to in such a dominating tone, and she loves it. She loves the freedom that comes with being commanded and feeling safe at the same time. She never knew the two could coexist. 

  At his behest, she clenches once more and cries out his name, his mouth muffling the sound as he spills into her. They hold each other firmly, panting as they ride out their highs together, although they’ll never be sated. They’ll never have enough of each other, always craving more. 

  “Bloody hell, I love you,” he says when they catch their breath. 

  She hums happily, if only because she’s still panting too hard to speak. She kisses his neck, her lips lingering on his soft, sweat coated skin. “I love you,” she whispers. Then, because telling him once will never be enough, she moves so that her tongue traces his earlobe and repeats, “I love you.”

  He moves her hair out of her face when she pulls away slightly, then presses a kiss to her cheek. “I’m sorry to come in here so… rudely,” he laughs. “But I--”

  “I’m glad you did,” she smiles. She winces slightly as he pulls out, stepping away to dispose of the condom and exposing his bare ass to her, tempting her to pull him back to her. “Are we really gonna be able to go tomorrow?”

  “Aye,” he smiles and returns to her to kiss her once more. “I just need to tell Tink and Elsa. We’re to meet by the docks; Robin knows already.”

  “You have a plan?”

  “Somewhere quiet,” he answers, “hidden away, unsuspecting… but it must be by the beach, aye?”

  “Aye,” she giggles and he straightens her shirt with a smile. “And?”

  “Nantucket.”

  “Nantucket?”

  “Mmm,” he hums as he helps her off of the counter so that she can fix her pants. “Quiet, secluded island, enough tourists to help us blend in. Plus, infamously beautiful beaches for an infamously beautiful woman.”

  She wraps her arms around his neck, pushing onto her toes and kissing him. “Sounds perfect.” 

  “Emma…” he starts, and she can sense the shift between them. He’s thinking, his self-anger and self-hatred sneaking through the joy he felt moments ago. “If it weren’t for what I did--”

  “Please,” she whispers. “You know that I love you. The fact that you killed Rufio doesn’t change that. I know you regret it, but if you need forgiveness, you have it.”

  He leans against her heavily, forehead to hers again, and nods. “I do regret it. But I know it had to be done.”

  “Exactly. And where will I meet you?”

  “I’ll find you, my love. The less you know, the safer you’ll be with Neal. Robin knows the plan, though.” She nods against him now. “You’ll be alright,” he whispers, and she almost wonders who he’s promising. 

  “I know; I trust you.”

  ~~~~

  A knock sounds against a heavy door. It’s pushed open slowly, and behind it stands a young and conflicted soul, trying to make the best decision for her family. The things she overheard as she stood outside of the women’s restroom serve to threaten the family she has found, and she cannot let that stand. 

  “Enter,” commands a strong and powerful voice, the man looking up from his ledgers and giving the woman a pensive look. “Elsa, to what do I owe this pleasure?” 

  “Peter,” she answers, moving towards the chair across from him. “I’m afraid I have some… troubling news.”

  The man hums, leaning forward and pressing his arms to the desk. “And what is that, my dear?”

  The woman takes a deep breath, sadly shaking her head at the truth she’s uncovered. She didn’t think her friend Killian capable of such a thing, but discovering that he’s murdered a member of the club has stunned her. “It’s Rufio,” she says wistfully. “I found out who killed him.”

  “That’s very interesting indeed,” the man agrees. “Are you implying that it wasn’t a member of the Kings of Elsinore who murdered a member of our family?”

  “Yes,” she nods with a deep sigh. “But it pains me to put the truth to words.”

  “Elsa,” he starts again, leaning back in his chair authoritatively. “If you know something, you must tell me. How can we protect you if you don’t protect us in return?”

  “Of course. After what happened to Liam, of course I want to protect the club.”

  The man nods in sad agreement. “Yes, his death was a tragedy, but the club has been keeping you safe ever since.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Go on, then,” he gestures towards her. “Whatever you’ve discovered, you must remember that the club’s interests as a whole must come above those of one.” 

  The woman nods once more and takes a deep breath in, feeling the cool air hit her lungs. “It was Killian,” she whispers. “Killian killed Rufio.”

~~~~

~~~~

Tagging:  @courtorderedcake​ @kmomof4​ @stahlop​ @klynn-stormz​​ @laschatzi​ @emelizabeth88​ @lfh1226-linda​ @kday426​ @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story​​ @captain-emmajones​​ @gingerpolyglot​​ @ebcaver​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​ @teamhook​​ @superchocovian​​ @itsfabianadocarmo​​ @tiganasummertree​​ @gingerchangeling​​ @jrob64​​ @onceratheart18​​ @xhookswenchx​​ @winterbaby89​​ @swampmedusa​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​ @dancingnancyy​​ @love-with-you-i-have-everything​​ @shireness-says​​ @snowbellewells​​ @hollyethecurious​​ @ouatpost​​ @daxx04​​ @the-darkdragonfly​​ @donteattheappleshook​​ @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay​​ @xsajx​​ @itsfridaysomewhere​​ @alexa-fangirl-forever​​ @jonesfandomfanatic​​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​​ @qualitycoffeethings​​ @rapunzelsghosts​​ @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice​​ @batana54​​ @sailtoafarawayland​​ @deckerstarblanche​​ @zaharadessert​​ @xarandomdreamx @hookedmom​​ @pirateprincessofpizza​​

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

I actually used my own experiences with grief and loss in this one, I could channel it better writing from Jazz's perspective

so yeah if you thought the last two were sad-

Part 3

Jazz had never gone ghost hunting with her mother before, at least never with just the two of them. It was uncomfortable, unfamiliar, like when her only friend at a party left her alone with someone she barely knew.

Her relationship with her mother had always been intellectual in nature, they would engage in philosophical debates over the ethics and morality of the ghost hunting profession while eating dinner, the discussions became far more intense after Jazz discovered Danny's secret. She was no longer debating simply for the sake of an interesting discussion, she was trying to introduce concepts that would smooth the way for when her brother was ready to reveal his other self to them.

It was a tactic she had used successfully many years before, albeit for a far more mundane reason.

Going ghost hunting with Maddie wasn't just uncomfortable because it was unfamiliar, it wasn't even because of her ethical disagreement with her mother's tactics.

It was because her father was supposed to be here.

Maddie rarely went hunting without Jack, not if she could help it, they had always been a team, they worked perfectly in synch with one another, but Jack wasn't here. Jazz was, and his shoes just didn't fit.

Jazz didn't have to go, technically, she wasn't even trying to help with the ghost hunting part, but... she couldn't let Maddie go alone.

Maddie was coping with Jack's death far worse than anyone.

From the moment they'd returned home from the hospital, after Jack had been declared dead, Maddie had been out every day and night hunting for the Wisconsin Ghost. It didn't matter to her that he hadn't been seen since that night, it didn't matter that he had always been too powerful for anyone to take on alone.

Maddie would drive around for hours, chasing any blip on her radar and ferociously ripping into any unfortunate ghost to cross her path.

Danny had been running damage control, warning the more agreeable ghosts to stay out of Amity, capturing the rest as covertly as possible, doing everything he could to stay away from Maddie while in his ghost form.

Jazz had been the only one left to do everything else. She had turned 18 just a few months before, so thankfully she had been legally able to sign all the documentation, to plan the funeral arrangements, the cremation, the obituary. All of it, by herself.

She was grateful, in a way. It gave her something to do, something to focus on that wasn't grief, that wasn't the cold empty hole in her life. Jack's presence had always been hard to ignore, his absence even more so.

Danny had tried to help with the preparations, when he wasn't in the ghost zone or cleaning up ghosts around town. He appeared to be holding himself together okay, but Jazz knew better, she knew that the guilt was eating him up from the inside. It didn't matter how many times she reassured him that he wasn't responsible for this, that he wasn't to blame, it made no difference.

It was only when Jazz had run out of tasks to do that she let herself cry.

She knew that sitting around was only going to make her feel worse, she couldn't let herself stew in her grief, she needed a purpose to pull her through. So she joined her mother on her feverish hours long hunts.

It was escapism, she knew that, for both of them. To Maddie, the hunting was something else to focus on so she could ignore her grief, it gave her a sense of control and purpose. Jazz was using looking out for her mother as her own distraction, her own grasp for purpose and control.

She knew these things, and she knew they were not entirely healthy, but she didn't know what else to do.

If this were anyone else she would have told them to seek out professional therapy, go to grief counselling, practice radical acceptance, to use visualisation exercises and grounding techniques to manage intrusive thoughts. Vengeance and fury weren't a healthy release, they would only build, they would only lead to more pain.

But her books hadn't prepared her for something like this, how could she seek help from someone she can't tell the whole truth? How could she grieve in peace when the justice system couldn't touch her father's murderer? He was still out there, he was still a threat. It was only a matter of time before he started working his way into Maddie's good graces, shamelessly emboldened by his successful assassination.

Jazz was furious when Danny insisted they keep Vlad's identity a secret. She understood where he was coming from. Her mother was struggling enough as it was, Jazz couldn't imagine what it would do to her to find out that it had been her husband's best friend all this time. That he had murdered Jack because he wanted her, the guilt alone would be soul crushing, and then there was the certainty that Vlad would reveal Danny's identity in return.

She couldn't even imagine...

Jazz was still angry, angry that Danny had to be the one to say it, angry that he was right, angry that he could be so rational while inside she was falling to pieces. She knew better, she knew how much he was hurting on the inside too, she knew that he was just good at hiding it, much better than she was.

She was still angry, but they both knew she wasn't angry at him.

When she got up that morning, her mother had been in the lab, her weaponry was getting more dangerous, less capture oriented and more destructive. Jazz wasn't sure if working down there was better than the hunting or worse, but at least no unsuspecting ghosts were getting torn to pieces.

Jazz had witnessed a few first-hand, it was bad enough seeing it happen to the formless, barely sentient poltergeists, she didn't want to know what a true spirit would look like, being eviscerated with such malice. She imagined a ghost like Johnny, laying on the ground with chunks ripped from his-

No, no that wasn't helpful, that was an intrusive thought, she needed to acknowledge its presence and move on, it didn't help her, let it go, like leaves on a string, let it go...

It would be back later, she knew.

Her breakfast was suddenly incredibly unappealing, not that that was anything new. She wouldn't be surprised if she'd lost weight over the last week, her clothes already felt just a little too loose.

A sudden and intense pang of longing hit her fast and hard, she missed him. It had only been a week and she already missed him so much. She just wanted him to wrap his big arms around her and hold her close and dig his chin into her hair in that way that annoyed her and tell her everything was okay Jazzypants and... and he was the only one who ever called her that. She hated it. She'd never hear it again...

She pushed her bowl of cereal away and stood, her eyes burning. She had to find something else to do, to keep her mind busy.

She went around the living room, clearing the coffee table and fluffing the pillows, there was a stain on the lounge, probably from a bit of fudge-

The curtains were looking dusty, they could probably use a clean, would they fit in the washing machine or would they need to be hand washed?

She'd started trying to unhook them from the curtain rod when the lab door banged open loudly, Jazz jumped, startled. She ran to the kitchen to find her mother in tears, hand over her mouth like she was trying to hold it all back. Jazz wrapped her arms around her and Maddie grasped onto her tight, like she was afraid she would be snatched away at a moment's notice.

Jazz rocked slightly and ran a hand up and down her mother's back comfortingly as they each cried into the other's shoulder. Maddie hadn't cried like this since the first night, Jazz recognised it as a good sign, she was letting herself feel again.

"Where is he?" Maddie stammered, "W-where'd he go, where'd he go?"

Jazz just squeezed tighter, it was a difficult question for someone who studied the dead for a living, to wonder what happened after. They were never a religious family, being raised by scientists there was never talk of a heaven or hell, just the ghost zone, what lay beyond that was a mystery to them all, even the ghosts.

She sniffed, she could feel tears clinging to her eyelashes, and an odd itch to her scalp.

"Jazz?" Danny's voice echoed down the stairs.

She heard Danny come into the room behind her, he made an odd sound, a quick and quiet intake of breath. Was he trying not to cry? Jazz hadn't seen him cry once, not since he was dragged off of Vlad that night, bruised knuckles dripping red. They were tears of fury then, she would never forget the sound of Danny's ragged screams as he pummelled Vlad into the ground, despite all the hands trying to pull him off the man.

Vlad had simply taken the beating, he'd use it later, she knew. He would forgive Danny, say it that he deserved it for failing to fight off that terrible awful Wisconsin Ghost when it overshadowed him. He would say it was all his fault, that he deserved all that pain and more, he was oh so sorry.

And Maddie would forgive him, because it wasn't his fault, it was that awful awful ghost. Vlad could never do something so terrible to his best friend. Vlad would always be welcome in their home, and welcome he would make himself. Jazz could see it all, and she could do nothing about it.

Danny placed a hand on his mother's shoulder. "Maybe you should do another lap around town, you might find something today." he pressed his head close to hers and spoke softly into her frazzled hair.

Jazz glanced at Danny with narrow eyes, annoyed and confused, their mother was finally making progress, and Danny was going to send her right back to her fruitless obsessive search for vengeance? He had to know it wasn't helpful, he had to.

He looked at her, wide eyed and thin lipped as he gave a quick jerk of the head and flick of the eyes to the front door. He wanted Maddie out of the house, for what reason Jazz didn't know and obviously couldn't ask, but she trusted her brother and did as she was told. Something was going on, but she would have to ask Danny about it later.

The day was warm and only a little humid, they drove with the windows down. Jazz enjoyed the wind on her face, she did not enjoy the silence.

It stretched on, unbroken by the radar as Danny's patrol earlier in the dawn had swept the town clean of ghost activity. It looked like Jazz wouldn't be watching another massacre today, she couldn't be more relieved.

"It's been quiet." Maddie said, out of the blue.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Guess it has," Jazz paused, "maybe you scared them all off?"

"They should be scared." Maddie's tone was low, threatening. If Jazz were a ghost she would be terrified.

There was more quiet, they passed the local park, the sound of kids playing and birds singing were loud for a few moments, until the trees disappeared into the distance behind them and the quiet returned.

"Haven't seen much of Phantom either." Maddie spat. "I'm surprised he hasn't shown up to gloat."

Pain shot through Jazz like an arrow, she would have to warn Danny to make extra sure to stay out of their mother's way, she was very clearly ready to shift a whole lot of misplaced aggression directly onto him.

She considered challenging her mother's assumption, but thought it best not to provoke her right now. Instead she merely hummed an acknowledgment.

They drove past the school, empty for the summer. Jazz's final exams had only just ended before her father's birthday, but she had missed graduation. She didn't want to go without him there, she was supposed to give a speech, she was too busy writing a eulogy.

They passed a group of people she knew from school, they gave her a little wave. Despite Jack's notoriety, everyone had been sad to hear the news, they'd sent a giant card around the school and everyone she knew had signed it, including the teachers, and everyone in Danny's year too. Mr Lancer brought it to the house with an enormous bouquet, he couldn't convince the school to pay for one so he bought it out of his own pocket.

Jazz had gotten texts and private messages, all saying they were here for her if she ever needed to talk. She responded to most of them, but sometimes she just sent a heart emoji. It was easier than writing the same thank you message over and over. She didn't take any of them up on the offer.

The drive wasn't too bad honestly, without any ghosts showing up it was almost relaxing. Maddie hadn't said much else other than a few observations about the traffic or the weather. When Jazz suggested getting some lunch Maddie had opted to use the Nasty Burger drive through so they could eat in the van. Jazz was grateful, she didn't want to run into anyone else from school.

Her phone buzzed, it was Danny sending her a thumbs up, they were safe to go home.

"We should probably head home." Jazz suggested, slurping the last of her drink. "We've been all over town, there's nothing here."

Maddie grit her teeth but revved up the van and turned toward FentonWorks.

As soon as they were through the door Maddie headed to the lab, presumably to drown herself in more work. Jazz headed up the stairs where Danny waited for her.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Danny shushed her looking over her shoulder down the stairs.

"It's fine she's in the lab," Jazz reassured him, "what's going on?"

He didn't answer, just grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward his room, closing the door behind them and locking it.

"I'm going to try something," he said, crossing the room to stand before her, "But I think you should sit down first."

Jazz frowned but she sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Is this about Vlad? Did he come here?" A rush of heat spilled over her face, "If that son of a bitch tried anything I'll-"

"Jazz it's fine, it's not Vlad, it's fine." Danny breathed, running a hand through his hair nervously. "It's just, I'm trying something but I need you here to tell me if it works, okay?"

He nibbled his lip anxiously but he also seemed... almost excited about something. Had he developed a new power?

Jazz nodded and paid close attention as Danny took a few steps back and put a hand up, palm facing to the side and away from himself, his fingers curled slightly as if grabbing for something.

He took a deep breath and the heat of the summer air chilled, a trail of green mist flowed over his hand and began to form a shape in the air beside him.

Almost immediately as it began to form Jazz knew.

She leapt to her feet to stand before the large figure revealing itself gradually before her, when the mist crept over a square jaw and close cropped haircut she threw her hands over her mouth to stifle her gasping breaths.

"Dad." she breathed, she reached for him but didn't dare touch, afraid that she would ruin the illusion. Was he here? Was he real? She looked to Danny but his eyes were closed, face scrunched in concentration. He peeked at her for a moment, his grimace lifting into a strained smile.

"It's him." said Danny, through gritted teeth, "Say hi."

Jazz cried as Jack lifted a hand toward her face, he was still a translucent shimmering green, but she was certain she could see tears on his face. He mouthed words that she couldn't hear, but she knew them all the same.

Hey Jazzypants.

She was sobbing hard as she grasped the hand cupping her face, her fingers went right through it, but she could feel it, like she could feel his palm against her cheek. It was cold, and so light it almost tickled, but she could feel it.

She tried again, very gently feeling for that slight resistance to the air and holding her hand against it, she couldn't touch him for real, she couldn't hold him, but she could feel him. That was enough.

"I missed you dad." She smiled through her tears, "I missed you so much."

His features were still hard to make out, but it was clear he was smiling, he mouthed more words.

"Sorry, I can't hear you." said Jazz, sadly.

"He says he liked the obituary." Danny grunted, eyes still squeezed shut. "He knew you wrote it, he could tell."

Jazz laughed, it was only a little hysterical. Danny's hand trembled against Jack's arm. Jazz wanted to tell him he could stop now, but she didn't want her dad to go, not yet.

She raised her hands to cup his face, only just feeling the whisper of a few bristles on his chin. She didn't know what to say, what could she say?

"I'm so glad you're here," she said quietly with as much feeling as she could, "but, why are you here? You said you'd never... you'd never..."

Jack said nothing, but glanced over to Danny, whose hair had started streaking with white and glinting with crystalline shards of ice.

"Don't get to choose." He growled, his voice sounded distorted, his jaw clenched so hard Jazz could hear his teeth grinding, "Happens or it doesn't."

Danny's lips were pulled back in a pained snarl and were turning blue, his canines were sharpening as blinding flashes of green slipped from beneath his eyelids. A large puff of opaque mist rolled from his mouth upon each laboured exhale.

Jazz gave her father a careful hug, trying to lean into him without falling through.

"We're gonna figure this out dad I promise we're gonna figure it out."

She could feel his arms around her, the slight pressure reminding her of being buffeted by a strong gust of wind.

Danny took that as his cue, he pulled his hand back with a ragged cry and Jack's misty green form dissipated like smoke in a breeze.

Jazz stared into the empty space her dad's face had only just filled moments ago.

"Is he still here?" She asked, voice trembling.

"Yuh- yeah," Danny huffed, he was bent over, catching his breath. "I can suh- still see him, and hear him."

He stood straight as he pulled in a deep lungful of air. Then he laughed, a rough, exhausted laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.

"I'm so glad that worked, oh Ancients. I'm gonna need a minute." he crashed onto the bed face down.

"What exactly did you do?" Jazz asked, eyes still locked on the space where Jack had been, and presumably was still, standing.

"Dad only just formed a consciousness this morning," Danny grumbled into his bedding. "He's still warm, hasn't manifested a core yet. I just loaned him some energy."

"Still warm?" Jazz turned her nose up at the phrase.

"Yeah, it's uh, ghost slang. Means freshly dead, y'know like the body's still-"

"Yeah yeah I get it," Jazz waved a hand dismissively. "Gross."

"That's what dad said."

"Yeah! Because it's gross!"

Danny laughed, but it was barely more than a breathy huff. Jazz eyed him carefully, he was a little more pale than usual, there were bags beneath his eyes, his cheeks were a little hollow and his lips were still tinged with blue. All his usual signs of overexertion, but other than that he looked relatively okay.

"Why was it so exhausting?" Jazz asked. "I would've thought you'd have more than enough energy to share, especially for something as simple as visibility."

"Amount isn't the issue." Danny raised a finger pointedly, "Simple is the issue, imagine trying to fill a water balloon with a fire hose."

Jazz balked.

"Wait, that sounds unbelievably dangerous!" Jazz glared at Danny and then back at the empty room, "What happens to dad if you lose control?"

Danny groaned and flipped himself over onto his back, an arm flung over his eyes.

"Don't get mad at me it was his idea." Danny glared at the empty space for a beat before barking, "Was too!"

Jazz rolled her eyes, "Oh my god you are both children." She turned to Danny and pointed a thumb over her shoulder, "I can't hear him so you're going to have to tell me, what would happen to him if you lost control?"

Danny pressed his lips together and muttered guiltily, "He... could'a destabilised."

"He WHAT?!"

"I told you it was his idea!"

"I don't care whose idea it was!" Jazz alternated between glaring at Danny and at the space behind her. "You're both idiots for trying something so risky! There wasn't some way to practice?!"

"What do think we were doing while you were gone!" Danny exclaimed, "Also he's standing over there now, he moved so he wouldn't feel like you were yelling at him."

Jazz planted a hand over her face, and shook her head in disbelief, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry, her dad had been back for not even ten minutes and she was already yelling at him.

She spluttered a choked up giggle, wiping her eyes and sniffling.

"God I missed you dad." Jazz said, before she started bawling.

[cloudybarnes]

Stages

Pairing: steve rogers x reader

Summary: ultron was harder to defeat than the avengers thought, and y/n paid the price. after the events of her death, steve has a hard time dealing with the loss of his lover

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: angst, bad language, death of y/n, steve going through the five stages of grief, mentions of religion, small panic attack, depression

A/N: I’m really happy with how this turned out so I hope everyone likes it as much as I do :))

Masterlist

✰  ✰  ✰

“Stark, you worry about getting the city back down safely,” Steve said, “the rest of us only have one job: tear theses things apart.”

Steve looked around the falling city. Ultron had been able to win thus far. He was stronger and more intelligent than any of the avengers could have predicted. 

Civilians ran for their lives, androids flew around like they owned the place, and his friends were doing all they could to stop Ultron and his army.

“If you get hurt, hurt them back.” He continued, “if you die... walk it off.”

If only he knew what was to come.

Ultron’s army wasn’t getting any smaller, but that didn’t stop you from continuing the fight. 

Fighting was the only thing you could do. All you had was your hand-to-hand combat training to help. Androids would come at you, and you punched your way out. 

You grabbed the head of an android, and hoisted yourself around to rip it off, rending the robot useless. On the ground was debris, mainly rods of metal. Grabbing one, you were able to fight off a group of Ultron’s androids that got too close to you.

“Eat shit, robot.” You huffed as you kicked the last one near you.

Looking around to find people to help out, you saw your boyfriend in the center of a group of robots.

He fought well. With his shield, he was able to break the androids in half, but there were too many coming at him at once.

You rushed over to help him. “Incoming!” You shouted as you jumped on top of one of the androids and ripped its head off.

As it fell to the ground, you used your metal rob to plunge into the robots’ chests and rip them apart. Steve did the same with his shield, ramming it into the androids to destroy them.

Once there were no more surrounding you and Steve, you looked him over. You stepped closer to him and brushed your fingers along his face. “You alright, baby?”

There were no major wounds as far as you could tell, only a bruised eye and a busted lip. 

Steve nodded and gently smiled, “I’m okay, sweetheart.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Come on, we’ve got a city to save.”

Unbeknownst to you at the time, that was the last conversation you and your boyfriend would share.

As you fought more androids, you noticed something in the air. Some sort of airship was flying, shooting at you and the avengers. You went to run for cover when you passed Steve.

“(Y/N)!” He shouted. Steve held his shield over top of himself, blocking the bullets from piercing into him. 

You started to run to him when you noticed something. The airship was flying closer to Clint who held a young boy in his arms. 

The airship was coming so fast, Clint couldn’t get out of the way quick enough. 

You looked back to Steve who started running towards you, ready to pull you under his shield. 

With sad eyes, you turned away from him, straight towards Clint into the oncoming bullets. Without stopping to second-guess your decision, you ran full speed to Clint to push him behind a fallen car.

You barely felt the piercing of the bullets with your high adrenaline. What you did feel, was sorrow. 

When Clint had turned around and realized what happened, his eyes started watering. “(Y/N),” he whispered, “why?”

“I’m sorry,” you choked you as you dropped to your knees. “Please, tell Steve...” You couldn’t hold yourself up any longer. Your body gave out from underneath you. As you fell to the ground, the last thing you heard was a cry from your boyfriend. 

You never even got to tell Steve you loved him.

Stage One: Denial 

Steve felt a heavy weight on his chest as he watched you fall to the ground. “No!” Steve shouted as he abandoned his shield and ran over to you. 

In his frenzy, Steve stumbled over his feet trying to get to you. 

Once he finally did, he fell to the ground with a gasp. He looked over your body frantically. There were puncture wounds all over you. Dirt covered your face, and blood slowly seeped through your clothes. Steve gently pulled you into his chest. 

“(Y/N), baby, please stay with me, sweetheart.” Steve cried. “You’re going to be okay, I promise. Clint! Call someone to help her, please. We need to get her a medic as soon as possible.”

Clint’s eyes drooped. He found himself unable to say anything to Steve.

When Clint didn’t do anything, Cap’s head whipped up, giving Clint a good look at how red and puffy his eyes had already become.

“Please,” Steve croaked, “please help her.”

Clint’s lip wobbled, “Steve, there’s nothing we can do to save her. (Y/N),” he sighed, trying to compose himself, “(Y/N) was a hero. She saved my life and the life of this young boy.”

Steve let out a sob, “No, no she’s not dead! She’s not dead, Barton. We just need to get her some medical attention, they’ll be able to help her. I know they will.”

Clint tried to place his hand on Steve’s shoulder, but Cap just shrugged it off. “Stop! Stop acting like she’s dead, Barton. She-she can make it. She’s strong, I know she can get through this.” 

Steve continued holding you, sobbing as he rocked you. 

“I’m sorry, Steve. She saved my life, and now she’s gone.” 

Steve was barely listening. He didn’t want anyone to tell him what he knew deep down. He wouldn’t let himself believe you were dead; not now, not ever. There were so many things he still wanted to do with you.

There was a whole future he had planned with you. There were so many things he wanted to tell you but never got the chance. He wouldn’t let himself believe he’d lost the love of his life before she ever knew that’s what she was. 

“Steve, please. We need you.” Clint begged, “We can’t give her a proper goodbye if the world is destroyed.”

Steve clenched his eyes shut, trying desperately to keep his tears at bay. Clint was right. You would be in even worse shape if the world was destroyed. Once they fixed everything, Steve could find you the help you needed. Maybe someone could save you if he worked fast enough.

Steve gently placed you down onto the ground, and stood up. He looked at Clint with a hard gaze, “Okay, let’s finish this.”

Stage Two: Anger

“No, Tony, you don’t get it! None of you could possibly understand what I’m going through.” Steve shouted. 

It had been only a few days since your death. Steve had let himself understand that you were gone, and all he could think about was how it was his fault. 

Maybe if he had gotten to you sooner, or maybe if he was the one to save Clint and that young boy, you would have still been alive. 

Steve felt so helpless, it angered him. 

Tony sighed, “Steve, we’re in the same boat as you. We’re mourning her just like you are! You don’t get to act like we don’t understand when we’re just as upset as you are!” 

Steve fumed, “No. You’re not as upset as I am. You don’t even feel half of what I’m feeling! You aren’t in love with her, Tony! You still have the woman you love. I lost mine, so no, you have no idea what I’m feeling right now.”

“But I can imagine what it would be like if-”

“That’s just it!” Steve sarcastically laughed. “You can imagine Pepper dying, whereas I watched my girlfriend die. You didn’t see your girlfriend taking her last breath. You weren’t even around (Y/N) when she died! I could have saved her, and I didn’t.”

Clint stepped closer, “but I was there, Steve. I could have done something to help, but I didn’t. She died to save me. It’s not your fault.”

“Well that’s what it feels like! She’s my girlfriend. I’m the one who’s supposed to protect her, and I failed.” Steve huffed. He slouched into an armchair, and held his face in his hands. 

Nat gently walked up to Steve, and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Steve, why don’t you take off for a little while. You can clear your head and try to forget about all of this.”

That made Steve’s head whip up. He glared at Nat. “Forget about this? You mean forget about (Y/N)?” He scoffed and abruptly stood up, pushing Nat’s hand off of him. 

“Sorry you guys don’t like seeing me grieve my dead girlfriend. I’m so sorry it’s such an inconvenience to you that you want me to leave!” Steve growled, punching a dent into the wall.

“Steve, you need to calm down.” Tony instructed, “we’re not trying to get you to forget about her. None of us want to forget her. All we want is for you to start healing.”

Steve half scoffed, half laughed. “It’s been, what, four days? It’s been four fucking days and you guys already want me to move on. I can’t fucking believe this.”

Steve angrily paced around the compound, trying to wrap his head around what was going on. 

Thor gently spoke up. “We don’t want you to move on. We want what’s best for you.”

Steve scoffed at this, but Thor paid no mind as he continued speaking. “What I’m saying is we want you to heal, like Tony said. We don’t like seeing you self destruct like this.”

Nat nodded, “we’re aware it’s only been a few days, Steve. You’ve just been so angry lately, and we’re worried. We’ve never seen you like this.”

Steve threw his hands up, “I don’t know what you want me to do! You think I like feeling like this? You think I like the fact that my girl is gone? You think I like the fact that the only thing I feel anymore is anger? I should have done something!”

“You couldn’t have saved her!” Clint shouted. His eyes were starting to tear up. Clint was always close with you, and he had tried to keep it together since he didn’t want to hurt Steve, but enough was enough. 

Clint sighed, “there was no way you could have saved her, Steve. You were too far away, she was too fast, Ultron was aiming at her, she risked her life for mine; there are so many things that contributed to her death. It seemed inevitable! It was not your fault, and there was nothing you could have done to save her.”

Steve huffed. His chest rose and fell with each deep intake of breath. His eyes darted across Clint’s face, searching for something. For what, he wasn’t sure. Guilt? Sincerity? Strength? Who knows. 

All Steve knows is the heavy weight on his chest. He knows his guilt, his anger, and his resentment. It seems like there’s nothing else for him.

Stage Three: Bargaining

Steve cried today. It had been two weeks since you died. The Avengers were going to give you a proper funeral the next day, and Steve wasn’t ready. 

He wasn’t ready to let go of you.

If only he could have done something. He only he had done something. Steve wishes for nothing more than this to be one sick joke. He can’t live the rest of his life without you. He would rather die than live a life without you in it.

Steve was never a religious man, but he found himself praying to a god he wasn’t even sure he believed in. “Please,” he sniffled, “please, bring her back to me. I can’t-I can’t live my life without her beside me.”

Steve started to cry harder, his pleads desperate. “I’ll do anything! I’ll give up being an Avenger, I’ll give up my home, my friends, the life I know if I could just have (Y/N) back with me. I’d give up my life if it meant she could continue to live hers.”

Steve broke down onto the ground. His body shook with each sob. In his left hand was a framed photo of the two of you from when you first got together. In his right arm, Steve clung to your favorite sweater. Somehow it still smelled of you, and Steve needed that to bring himself some comfort. 

“Please!” He bawled. His harsh cries took control of him. Steve couldn’t do much more than to try to keep breathing. He didn’t feel anything other than the pounding of his head and the ache in his chest. 

He desperately tried to suck in some air between his sobs, but it was hard. He just wanted you back, but he had no other options. 

Steve had heard of a woman that could turn back time. She called herself the ancient one. Steve had tried his best to get her to bring you back, but she wouldn’t budge. She told him that this is what the universe wanted. She said it was (Y/N)’s time to go, and that there was nothing she could do.

Bullshit.

Steve was desperate but hopeless. He knew it was the end of the line, and he had nothing left. He had already offered up everything he could think to give up, but there was no getting you back. 

Steve sniffled, calming himself down enough to speak. “I-I know she’ll never come back, but please, at least help me. I can’t-I can’t live like this anymore.” 

He started to hysterically cry again. “I can’t keep feeling this way. It hurts so much. Please, someone help me! Someone please take away my pain. I’m begging you.” Steve started to hiccup he was so worked up. 

Even though he didn’t realize it at the time, this was the beginning of the end. Steve knows she will never come back, and that’s officially the start of his healing process.

Stage Four: Depression

Steve was barely functioning.

He didn’t hear from his friends, he never left his house, he lost his appetite, and he could never stop crying. 

He was sluggish, sad, and hopeless. 

(Y/N)’s funeral was his breaking point. After they put her in the ground and said they’re goodbyes, he was done for. He cried so much that night, his throat screamed at him the next morning. He barely slept that night; he was too busy crying. 

Steve has been holed up in his house for months. Natasha and Clint had called him so often, he threw his phone away. He couldn’t bear to let anyone see him like this. 

He didn’t want to see anyone. The thought of seeing his friends, your friends, broke his heart. Not only were they reminders that you were gone, but they had people to go back to.

Clint had his wife and children, Natasha and Bruce had each other, Tony had Pepper, Thor had his family, and Steve was left with no one. 

He didn’t have the one person that was supposed to be there for him. He was trying so hard to feel better, but it was tough. Every time Steve thought he was going to pick himself up, he ended up falling right back into his cycle. 

If Steve was able to go a few hours without crying or he was able to take care of himself, he felt immense guilt. He thought he deserved to feel this way. 

He couldn’t bring himself to live a happy life when you don’t get one at all. While he wants to be able to be happy again and not feel as horrible as he’s been, he doesn’t want you to think he stopped loving you. He think if he doesn’t cry for you anymore, you’ll think he gave up on you. The thought of you thinking he doesn’t love you makes him hurt even more. 

Every time he takes a step forward, he falls two steps back. 

That is, until one day, Natasha showed up knocking at his door.

“Steve? I know you’re in there. I brought you some Chinese food. I was hoping to talk. We’re all really worried about you.” She called through the door. 

Steve sat wrapped up in his living room. He’s really only been in that room and the bathroom since you died. He could never bring himself to go into his room, not when it still had your overnight bag from the last time you two spent the night together. 

Steve had your favorite blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He liked to hold onto the things you frequented. 

On shaky legs, Steve stood from his spot on the floor. He knew he should have been embarrassed about the huge mess of his house, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Unlocking the door, Steve hesitantly opened it revealing a sad-eyed Nat. 

“Hey,” Steve croaked. His voice was hoarse and dry from crying so much. 

Nat sadly smiled at him, “Hey, Steve. I was thinking we could have dinner? Maybe talk for a bit. We’ve all missed you these past months.”

Steve took in a shaky breath, “uh, I don’t know if it’s such a good idea, Nat. I appreciate you coming by, but I’m not even that hungry.”

Steve’s eyes started to water, but he willed himself not to cry in front of Nat.

She sighed, and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Please, Steve, you need to eat something. If you don’t want me to bother you, I won’t. Just let me be here for you.”

Steve sniffled, and nodded his head. He slowly moved aside so she could walk in. Nat flicked the light switch on, and tried not to gasp at what she saw. Food wrappers littered the ground, blankets and pillows filled the floor like he’d been sleeping there, and crumpled up tissues lied everywhere. 

“I-I’m sorry about the mess. I haven’t really...” Steve trailed off, not too sure what to say.

Nat just nodded her head, “I understand. Why don’t we eat in the kitchen, how’s that sound?”

Steve nodded his head, and trailed behind Natasha as she led him to the kitchen. 

While it wasn’t clean by any means, the kitchen was more tidy than the living room. Natasha placed the bag of food on the counter and sat down. Steve slowly climbed into the seat across from her.

“I got dumplings for you, I know they’re your favorite.” She gently said as she passed the container to Steve.

He nodded his head, “thanks, Nat,” he softly said.

As the two of them ate, the silence wasn’t as uncomfortable as he thought it’d be. Steve felt good being in the presence of a friend. He had expected to feel even more sad with them around since they were friends with (Y/N) as well, but it did quite the opposite. 

It was nice to have someone there for him. It was nice to have someone to talk to again.

“Nat,” Steve sighed, “I just wanted to apologize for how I’ve been lately. I shut you guys out and I’m sorry.”

Nat shook her head, “Don’t apologize, Steve, we don’t blame you. It was a hard time for everyone, but you the most. We just want to be there for you when you’re ready to get back on your feet.” 

Steve shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “Well, I’ve been trying to pick myself up on my own, but it’s hard. Every time I think I’m doing better, I think about her and how I’m still here and she isn’t and I just fall back into my funk.”

He raised his glossy eyes to look at her, “I need help, Natasha. I don’t think I can do this alone anymore.” His voice cracked lightly as he confessed his failure.

Nat took in a shaky breath, trying to keep her composure for him. “I’ll help you Steve, all of us will.”

Steve released a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, “thank you, Nat. I don’t even know where to start to get myself back to who I was.”

“Why don’t we start off simple. Finish eating, and when you’re done go take a shower. I’ll pick up around here so you have a clean area to come back to.” She offered with a gentle smile.

“Okay. Thank you, Nat, really. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t show up today.” Steve confessed.

Natasha placed her hand over top of his, gently rubbing his knuckles. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll get through this. Together.”

Stage Five: Acceptance

A year after (Y/N)’s death, Steve felt good. 

He still mourns (Y/N), he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop thinking about her, but it doesn’t haunt him like it used to. 

The weight on Steve’s chest is no longer heavy. He feels a new sense of light and happiness.

Steve has learned to embrace what is his present. No longer does he look to the past trying to find ways to change it. He isn’t desperate for the answers that nobody has. While he still is sad over the loss of his loved one, his crying doesn’t keep him up at night like it did in the past. 

Steve, by no means, thinks he’s at the best place he can be. He still has his moments where he has flashbacks of that day in Sokovia. When he sees something that meant a lot to (Y/N), he’ll still break down and cry. 

That’s part of the process.

Acceptance is not getting over the death of your loved one. Acceptance is knowing that there was nothing you could have done. It’s seeing your days as ways to move forward. It’s embracing your bad days, and not letting them define your future. It’s reflecting on the good times you shared, while still being willing to make memories elsewhere.

Steve was able to pick his life back up. He came back to the Avengers and was welcomed with open arms. He’s worked with them enough to the point where he’s ready to go back into the field.

Steve kept building his relationships with his friends. He made sure to not shut them out when he was having a bad day, and he was able to understand that they were only trying their best. While they didn’t know the full extent of what he had been through and what he felt, he knew they cared about him.

Steve was able to regain his hope. He has hope for his future, one he thought would be bleak and unbearable without you, would hopefully turn out well. Steve hopes to get to a place where he is truly happy, but he knows it will take some time. 

In the process of accepting a loved one has died, people often take up new things. Steve started to get into cooking as a way to connect with you. You were always the one to cook for him, it was something you did when you were stressed as well as something you did for fun.

He learned to make your favorite dishes, and tried out some of your recipes. It made him feel closer to you. It was a healthier way for him to keep you in his mind. 

Steve also had a new pattern. Every two weeks him, and whoever was up for it, went to your grave. They gave you flowers and cleaned your spot up really nice. Usually it was just him, Nat, and Clint, but occasionally Tony and Bruce came. Thor only came if he was already on Earth.

Still, it was nice for Steve to have his friends with him. He appreciated them so much. Through every rocky path they’ve been through, it’s nice to know that they’re always going to be there for him. He couldn’t ask for better friends than the ones he has. 

Nat, especially, was such a great friend to him in these times. He thinks one day, maybe they could be something more. Steve wants to be able to give her his all before he asks her out. Some nights he still wishes you were laying next to him, but he thinks in time he’ll be ready to date again. 

While he’s come a long way, Steve still has more to accomplish. He knows this, and he’s ready to take things one day at a time until he gets to a point in his life where things are easy. 

No matter how much Steve goes through or how much he changes, he knows one thing for sure: you will always be in his heart, just like he always planned. 

[sokayisaidiot]

Dream SMP Assumption #7

Today’s topic: Everybody is suffering and you know it.

Please DO NOT read if you’re uncomfortable with the themes of death, depression and suicide. It’s a very complicated theme. I did NOT study it and do NOT know some aspects of it. I just go off the things I saw in the smp and made my own theories about it. If you’re even slightly triggered by this, please stop and do NOT try to read it. Please do NOT put yourself in some kind of uncomfortable zone.

Please do not. Thank you

(This is all assumptioning from the fictional world of dream smp)

(Heavy spoilers on the resent events)

(Also just assumptions, when you know something, you can always drop it :))

(Mainly around the lmanburg way, sadly need to learn more about badlands ): )

(This Series is created by another person, that’s just too fuckin lazy to move her butt)

Trigger warning today:

Suicide thoughts

(PTSD)

Depression

War

Child Neglect

Betrayal and Trust Issues

Death

Lets get this straight, no one is pure evil just because. Everybody has something happening and BOOM, finished chaos and sadness and strange behavior and aggressiveness and- You get me? Good. I will take on EVERYBODY who says that a person in the story didn't suffer. I aint a Apologist either. I just want to make some things clear who suffered how. Understand? Good.

Stop saying “[Character] didn't suffer!” Hell yes somehow everybody, close in the lore, fuckin did.

LET’S GET STARTED

__________________________

Tommyinnit

Lets start with one, who should be pretty obvious. Tommy. In my second Assumption, I explained symptoms of PTSD and Depression. 

He was never really trusted by any point

Was just as used as Techno, because who had Tommy controlled was pretty powerful

He was exiled by a country, he HELPED saving MULTIPLE times

He saw his brother get killed by his father

He experienced so many deaths (Tubbo’s, in the final control room, Schlatts, 

He lost his pets 

He lost his belongings

Has to be on edge constantly

Gets accused by someone and then MOSTLY EVERYBODY believes, it was him

He isn’t really taken seriously

He gets seen as power-hungry person

People literally having him on the Hitlist

He nearly saw his best friend dying, on a mission, that was started by him

His older Brother, who he has an confused relationship with, doesn't even want to be revived.

Lost his brother to insanity and had to sit in the FRONT ROW of this spiral

PTSD

Depression

Suicidal thoughts

Betrayal

next to no one on his actual side

got left by almost everyone

was stuck on a island with an amnesiac ghost, who is a shell of his older brother

gets told his comfort items he had before everything else didn't matter

constantly has to live on the edge because he runs around with one just fuckin heart

Tubbo

Next to Tommy, he also suffers from PTSD, Depression and Suicidal tendencies. And that doesn't mean you kill yourself. It means you are too careless to give a fuck. And that can happen. TUbbo was way too easy to give up his OWN LIVE for something his best friend has passion in it.

He got publicly executed in a place HE DECORATED by someone he considered his Allie

Had the burden of Presidency on his YOUNG shoulders

The People who had to teach him about it, were also there for the tyranny

Got constantly considered a pawn, a throwable item

The adults use him as a figure head and proceed then to use him

He HAD to exile his best friend, or Tommy would have died sooner than ever

PTSD

Suicidal in a way of being okay for dying

Depression

Betrayal

Never gets taken seriously

Gets over-spoken a LOT

GETS COMPARED TO FUCKIN MANIACS OFTEN

Didn’t get nice words after his manipulator told him down, just SILENCE

He nearly died

He heard 

Got left by everyone, when they didn't see anything in this place anymore

got told by his best friend, that the discs were more worth than him

As Tommy, he is always on the edge of death

Technoblade

Techno is one of the most powerful people here on the server. No doubt about it. However, if someone, even a God, tries to refuse they have feelings, it’s impossible. And those feelings, when they get something terrible done to them, get hurt.

BETRAYAL

Loneliness

A bloodlust he sometimes seriously can't control, no matter how much he tries

His best friend (Wilbur), died before his eyes

He thought he could trust his (little brother figure) friend

Gets used often for material

betrayal

Has a hard time understanding his feelings

Gets talked over

Is socially avoiding talking

Gets seen as a bad guy many times

Trust issues, yay!

Also BETRAYAL

has at least some people who want to kill him

Wilbur Soot

Our favorite maniac! Yay! We can all see how he fell from a proud Leader of a family to an lost in himself man, with nothing left to loose

Had to countdown his brothers death

Was killed by his father

His OWN SON disowned him

He wasn't able to get help, especially not from his younger brother

His Allies were not really trust worthy

He got betrayed by a close comerade

His dear Brother was sometimes really chaotic

He had to lead an army to war, not one, but two times

He lost the election

He had to run away from a country he helped create

Had a hard time with this father (with how it’s shown, that he maybe was neglected and had to raise Tommy)

Ranboo

Our favorite Memory-Minutes-Boi! I think EVERYBODY in this community will protect him

His first days on the server were pure Chaos

Had to see a person, he considers a friend, being rotten away and not being able to do anything about it

A sister figure who just went angry

He isn’t trusted by anyone really

He knows things others don’t

ALSO LOSING YOUR MEMORY AND HAVING CONSTANT MEMORY LOSS FUCKIN SUCKS, TRUST ME

Has serious issues

GETS TALKED OVER

Is often forced to take a side, even if he's against it

Phil

He has a hard time. Especially with the death, failed resurrection, disowning one of his son, he didn't got even close to. Being 

Also on the edge of death every day

Was in the end peer pressured into killing his own son

Suffering from the loss of his son

Couldn't help his youngest son in exile, because he thought Tommy hated him

Wasn’t there for L’Manburg glory days

was ridiculed in his house arrest

Dream

Of course, we all know how mad he is now and shit, but you gotta think, he has some points here, that are infecting his behavior LARGELY

His friends left him, without considering helping him

He had lost his dear pet before

He actually wanted peace, but fell into the fun of destruction and chaos without someone knowing or helping him

He is homeless

Probably, he is a old being, that already suffered for millions of years

Sapnap

He’s actually one of my favorite Characters and I think we know he has a place in here.

Third wheels a  l o t

Constantly being referred as the THIRD person, who isn't important

Fought his friend, who took the side of a child

Said friend had one of his beloved fishes by his side the hole time

Said Fish got thought as dead

Fundy

Some of you guys forgot how sad actually Fundy’s character is. He IS one of the most hurt characters. And he gave up hope

constantly being talked over

disowned by his hole family

GREW UP IN OLD L’MANBURG, WHICH WAS AT WAR

doesn’t think he is a part of a group

had to disown his father, to help fight a tyrannt

Got babied his whole life

His dead father is still running away from their problems

Doesn’t know where his mum is

Lost his home so often

Nihachu

Actually the person I watched for the first long time as in the SMP

Again, being talked over

Doesn’t get taken seriously

Lost her Best friend (Wilbur)

Got betrayed by her friend, Karl, by him selling their Land to L’Manburg

Gets used as a hostage or Maid in Distress, even when she isn’t

Got her pets killed

Then constantly being used for her niceness

Jack Manifold

He has a pretty big Role now, and he's very VERY angry. And you might ask why

Got left behind by his country

doesn’t get taken seriously

Got his most powerful items removed in one thing

His land somehow is near a crater

got told he didn't suffer somehow

Went to mf hell

Quackity

Quackity, despite his funny demeanor, he's one of the hurt character

with him staying with Schlatt, he had a uncomfortable relationship a long time

got killed by the festival

somehow helped organize the death of a child

Said kid helped a revolution against him

he helped a tyrant come to power and will probably never get it live down

fought for a country so often, but, two times, it got exploded in front of his face

had to face war, also in a young age

Eret

Our favorite King is here too! Yes, he may have started the distrust spiral of Eret, but somehow, someone would still have led them to the FINAL CONTROL ROOM. Somehow History will always be happening.

Had one of the hardest time, getting forgiven

Was never really given a chance

got accused of something

gets used as a pawn

He has shown often regret

got left alone

I think we all can say they are just having MULTIPLE communicate, trust and self worth issues. Like goddamn, Puffy, please help them, you’re one of the only sane people in the lore-

[mashi-sims]

6 Popular tropes that fit #Cooliver

1. Friends to Lovers. Duh

This is the most obvious one, and I wanted to start with this one because if Cooper and Oliver ever become canon, this is what their relationship would be.

In my head, Friends to Lovers is always problematic because it’s easy to lose a beautiful friendship to a mediocre romantic relationship, as has happened to many LGBT couples on TV, but if done correctly, it warms my heart and makes sparks of joy fly all around.

The journey of their friendship not only as a partnership but as a mutual beneficence that helps them both grow and develop as their individual selves, helping each other find their own path, confidence in themselves, inspiration and motivation to fulfill their dreams, ultimately becoming better individuals aiming to transform into the best versions of themselves they can be, *voice intensifies* all while being together and offering each other’s company and support, becoming accustomed to being next to one and other and not being able to imagine a life without the other, slowly developing emotional ties that make them consider if a different kind of love exists, and them exploring it and realizing that, in fact, THERE IS. That type of slow build that transforms into a romantic relationship because they both agree they are each other’s most treasured person and they want to stay in each other’s lives forever, that’s some GOOD STUFF.

2. Fake Dating

The reason why I believe a good fake dating au can get so popular, is because it can offer a pretty natural transition between “Not having any kind of feelings”/”Being unaware of their feelings” to “Oh, my gosh I am in love with this person what do I do”, and it can be so heart-wrenching it’s addictive.

In a beautiful world, Oliver is totally in love with Cooper and he just doesn’t know it yet, and there’s where this trope comes in handy.

There’s a number of reasons why two characters may start fake dating; getting someone off their backs, making someone jealous/angry, needing a date for a special occasion, or getting some odd financial benefit from it, if you’re willing to take it as far as getting married and having to pretend to be actually married so nobody know their marriage is a scam.

They agree to start fake dating or to start introducing each other to other people as their boyfriends, because Cooper wants these interested girls (and boys) in his money to go away, or because Oliver is the only single one at his ballet and he doesn’t want to go to after-show celebration alone, and after one or many fake dating moments, they start realizing they don’t need to act or pretend to act a certain way at all, because there’s stuff they’d normally do with or say to each other, or at least the trust or the reliance is already there. 

Think about the inevitable time where they do have to stop acting like fake boyfriends and they start missing it, or when they mid-date realize there’s something real between all that pretending and now they don’t know what to do about it, imagine the conversation they’d have when they realize they can’t go back to being friends anymore.

3. N Things

This one is more like a writing strategy than an actual trope, but it still works. We’ve all read the “4 times they almost kissed, and one time they did” or the “3 times they said I love you to someone else, and one time they said it to each other”

Okay, now hear me out- how about, “3 times Oliver said Cooper wasn’t his boyfriend, and one he didn’t have to”, or “5 times Oliver said he wasn’t gay, and one time he couldn’t”? I’m down for that.

The heart of this trope is the repeatability of a certain joke, a comment or an unfortunate event and that’s obvious it’ll turn itself around, and it’s that one moment that finally comes which makes you want to dance under the rain.

To me, the amount of times Oliver’s had to tell other people that he isn’t gay or that Cooper’s not his bf (Cooper also said it once) is the perfect starter to this “n things” strategy.

Come on, American Housewife! You’re making it too easy for me to expect that one moment when it all turns around!

4. Babysitters

Neither of these boys is ever shown to be a kid-person nor to have a soft spot for babies, or anything like that! Like, at all! Their whole characters are based around the facts that they are both money-driven, superficial, and self-absorbed (although in the process of becoming better than that), and we barely ever get to see them pouring their hearts out or letting their guard down.

Therefore, imagine a day where Oliver is forced to babysit Violet (or another baby if there comes to be another one), and he’d undeniably be annoyed at the situation because this baby/toddler has ruined his plans, but Cooper obviously stays and helps him out because where else would he be?

It’s the times driving them both crazy when they don’t know how to make a baby stop crying, or when they’re deciding who should change the diaper because neither of them wants to; it’s the time when they’re both a mess because some chaos happened with the food or the paint while they were trying to come up with an activity.

Then it’s Oliver slowly coming down with baby fever as he’s trying make them laugh or when he’s walking around the room trying to make them fall asleep, and Cooper is in awe because he had never seen that side of his friend, and he had never expected it to look so damn cute, and Oliver had never expected Cooper to stay with him for a whole day just taking care of a baby.

It’s at the end of the day when they’re tired as hell but they agree that they had fun and that they’re glad they had each other to help out, and although they don’t say it, maybe it wasn’t so bad their original plans didn’t end up working out.

5. Hurt/Comfort

This is not a trope for everyone, you may love it, you may hate it, you may be indifferent, or you may be like me; somewhere in the middle but with some strong opinions. If done right, it can be a beautiful addition to the story of two characters in process of falling in love. If done wrong, it can victimize the characters in unnecessary ways or show them in a light that doesn’t suit them, thus making them feel out of character, which is every true fan’s worst nightmare.

Although, let’s focus on the small things; like characters holding on to their emotions for too long until they really can’t do it anymore, and they need somebody to help them out, even if they resist it, because in the end they’ll acknowledge they’re thankful for having them, and it also makes their relationship inevitably grow and develop, because there’s something really special about having someone you can truly be yourself with and knowing that they’ll stay, and they’ll help you through everything and make you feel like you’re going to be okay, even (and especially) during your worst moments.

(Although really toned down,) we’ve already seen this kind of comfort between the two; like when Cooper found out Oliver lied about his vacations, and he told him he didn’t need to lie to him out of all people, and that he could come on vacation with him whenever he wanted, or when Cooper’s parents ditched him and he confided in Oliver, who believed he had become tired of hanging out with him, and Cooper had to reassure him that wasn’t the case; those were small moments where we got to see them somewhat upset and being comforted by the other, and that’s when it feels like their friendship is strong and real.

The reason why I believe this trope fits them so much is because they are barely shown in a vulnerable state that allows them to have a sad plot where they’d need to be comforted, and it’s during times like these where you can really see their relationship grow.

Also, I want to point out that it’s not about romanticizing or sexualizing sadness, at all! It’s about using these moments to slowly build and give consistency to the relationship- don’t even get me started on how much I hate seeing and reading characters making out after having a breakdown.

6. Mutual Pining

Some people like to suffer, okay? Some of us like a good tragedy, and there’s nothing more tragic than two characters who are deeply in love with each other, but they’ve resigned to keeping it hidden deep down because they’re convinced the other doesn’t feel the same and they don’t want to lose them nor their friendship, even if it means having to live with a painful secret for the rest of their lives.

When you start having feelings for another person, you may be brave enough to let them now or try and see where things go, because you have nothing to lose, right? But what happens when it’s your best friend you have feelings for? There’s a lot there to lose if do things go wrong, and there’s no certainty that they won’t, so you might as well leave things as they are, because nothing would be more painful than to lose the person you love the most for making things weird because they don’t feel the same way...

And it’s completely frustrating to see two characters with the same internal monologue, because you know what IT COULD BE, but THEY don’t know that- and I love it.

There’s a million different ways this trope can play out, and it’s always so interesting to see where things go after both characters have resigned to never let the other one know how they feel, and then we get to see these destructive actions like dating other people because they think their feelings are unrequited, but they have no idea the other is in deep pain because of seeing the person they love with someone else... yes, a good tragedy!

Anyway, thank you for reading this rant and feel free to add to the list or make any of these come to life.

[ratisnotcrying]

Juno Steel and how to pretend you’re fine

Summary: Juno hasn’t had a bad day in a long time. Okay, maybe he has, but not a bad-bad day, not a self-sacrifice-and-gun-fights bad day, not a what-if-I-crash-my-car bad day. He especially hadn’t had an I-need-to-hurt-myself-and-I-don’t-care-who-I-take-with-me kind of bad day.Except today. Today felt like all of those wrapped into one and multiplied by a thousand.

Prompt: “What if I just crash this car and make it all stop?” from prompt-dealer (i think)

Pairings: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel 

Warnings: canon typical suicidal thoughts/ suicidal tendancies, mentions of car crashes, intrusive thoughts, previous minor character death

Word count: 1.6K

A/N: this is cross posted on ao3 - please lmk if i need to add any tags 

~~~

Juno hasn’t had a bad day in a long time. Okay, maybe he has, but not a bad-bad day, not a self-sacrifice-and-gun-fights bad day, not a what-if-I-crash-my-car bad day. He especially hadn’t had an I-need-to-hurt-myself-and-I-don’t-care-who-I-take-with-me kind of bad day. 

Except today. Today felt like all of those wrapped into one and multiplied by a thousand. 

The old Juno would have given in. He would have entertained the idea for all of no time at all and then dived in head first with his eyes wide open. Juno-now (he wasn’t a new Juno, he was just… now, here) still entertained the idea, hell, he might even wonder why he wanted to do whatever it was. But he wouldn’t do it. Probably. 

He definitely wouldn't hurt someone else, no matter what he did. 

~~~

It had started after the last job, which had gone quite spectacularly wrong. 

Juno and Peter hadn’t gone in expecting an easy job - stealing a painting off the wall of a crowded ballroom was obviously going to be difficult - but that had gone off without a hitch, had gone off easier than the last time they did such a heist. No, the real issue came when a different thief had tried to steal a vase and gotten caught. It wasn’t even a nice vase, definitely not nice enough to die over. 

It had turned into a messy hostage situation, Juno’s HCPD training and his own career as professional hostage kicking in as he tried desperately to find a way to get everyone out. 

You can’t save everyone, Juno.

Three civilians and the thief had wound up dead, and more injured than Juno’s guilt ridden brain could count, and by the time he and Peter were back on the Carte Blanche, Juno could barely speak for the shock of what had happened. Neither Buddy nor Peter said anything when Peter debriefed with no input from Juno. 

Buddy did, however, decide to put off selling the painting for a little while, giving everyone some time to relax. This is where Juno’s bad day had started. 

~~~

In the timeless limbo between jobs, it was easy to lose yourself: Rita in her streams with Jet; Buddy and Vespa in their wedding plans, and Peter and Juno in each other. Juno couldn’t help the feeling he was losing himself alone. 

He knows he should have said something to Peter, or Rita, or even Vespa if he was desperate, but he was too busy trying to convince himself had it under control. 

His mind had been racing in loose circles, chasing empty thoughts and half-memories of every time Juno had fucked up, every time he had let someone die, every time he had almost let someone die. 

Benten. Yasmin. Alessandra. 

His head felt heavy with it, weighing him down into a feeling he thought he had long forgotten, numbing him so he couldn’t feel his way out. All he could find in the mess was the handy how-to he had written himself. 

How to pretend your fine when you absolutely, totally are - by Juno Steel

~~~

He had been doing a good job, if he did say so himself. Even if he and the rest of the ship knew that was a lie. 

Rita had been hovering more, not smothering him, just letting him know she was there; Jet never mentioned when Juno came and sat silently with him for a few hours, handing him tools when he asked. Buddy had outright told him that if he wanted to talk then she would always have time, ‘always, darling, just say the word’. Even Vespa had been a little nicer - their typically aggressive banter becoming more like a strangely aggressive therapy. 

And Peter. Peter was Juno’s anchor. He always was. 

But he could only pretend for so long.

~~~

Tonight, Juno wanted to drive - being inside was not helping, and so, from one moment to the next, Juno found himself behind the wheel, Peter in the passenger seat. It was late and Juno couldn't remember what planet they were on anymore. 

The car’s single head light shone dimly on the road in front of them and Juno stared blankly through the windshield, muscle memory alone stopping him from crashing. 

He used to do this, he used to drive for hours, let his numbness fill the car till he forgot he was driving and drifted mentally, drifted physically… 

He wanted to drift today. He wanted to feel weightless. 

The repetitive splashing rounds of the wheels sent Juno spiralling again, an endless list of people he had failed circling through his mind over and over and over again and goddammit he couldn't think, couldn't breathe, he needed it to stop, even if just for a second.

“What if I just crash this car and make it all stop?”

~~~

Peter had noticed the shift in Juno immediately after the job. He had seen his smiles become more strained, his eyes were hazy and unfocussed, movements slowed - as if he was drifting away, moving through a time Peter wasn’t quite in. 

He stayed close to Juno, and when Juno suggested a drive, Peter thought maybe this could be a good time to talk to him. But Juno had said nothing. They had been driving for hours. The suns had set and Juno didn’t seem to be heading home anytime soon, so Peter was about to speak, about to ask Juno what he could do. 

“What if I just crash this car and make it all stop?”

Peter was silent for a second, not quite sure he had heard Juno properly. Juno didn’t even seem aware that he had spoken aloud, nor did he seem to remember Peter was even there. He’s almost certain that the car was speeding up. 

“Juno, can you pull over please, love?”

The car swerved slightly, Juno startled at Peter’s voice, and Peter reached out and grabbed the wheel, pulling them back onto the road, “Juno, you need to pull over.”

The car slowed and, after what felt like a lifetime, came to a stop, a small cloud of dust flying up from under the wheels. 

“I- I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I should be fine.” Juno’s hands were gripped tightly on the wheel in a way that could have only been painful.

“Why don’t we get some fresh air, and then we can talk?”

Slowly, even slower than in the past week, Juno climbed out of the car and sat with Peter on the bonnet, staring up at the sky. 

“I should be fine,” he said again, “I’ve been fine and now… and now I'm not fine!” Juno choked on a sob. God, he hated being vulnerable. 

Peter considered this for a moment, “I know this is going to sound cliche, dear, but you don’t have to be okay. You’re allowed to be sad and angry, and-”

“But I am always angry, Nureyev. Always. I am angry at myself because I keep letting people get hurt and get dead. I’m angry at my mom and I’m angry at every goddamn person I meet and I don’t even know why half the time. There’s just- there’s just rage, and I can control it, better than I could before, but I dont- I dont know if I want to anymore. I just want to let go.”

“Why can’t you let it out, Juno?”

“I’ve done that before. Blind rage is how you get got,” Juno very carefully didn’t look at Peter when he said, “Letting go is how… letting go is how I nearly got myself. I’ve come so close to leaving this place, finally getting some damned rest. I don’t know what kept me here.”

Peter tried not to be too shocked at the almost wistful tone Juno used - they could talk about that another day, for now Peter just prompted, “You’re still here?”

Juno laughed humourlessly, “Yeah, that’s because I always got stupid lucky, and one day that’s gonna bite me in the ass. It was always other people getting got, never me,” He laid back against the windscreen, legs kicking softly at the bumper, “God, I’ve killed so many people.”

“Did you, though? Did you kill them all or did you blame yourself for not being able to do the impossible? Did you blame yourself for not being able to save every single person you met - a task which, I might add, is quite impossible, love.”

He shook his head and kept staring at the stars, looking for answers in the constellations. Peter laid next to him. 

It was a few minutes before Juno broke the silence, “Can we stay here a little while, before we go back?”

Peter would’ve stayed there all night if that’s what Juno needed. 

“Would you tell me a story, Juno? Maybe about someone you saved?” 

Reluctantly, Juno began to tell Peter about an eccentric real estate lawyer and her exploding, tuna-brick-loving cat, absently tracing patterns on the back of Peter’s hand. 

They laid there for almost an hour, but the cool night was interrupted by Peter’s comms beeping twice, signifying a message. 

Is everything okay darling? You’ve been gone a while.

As good as it can be right now. We’ll be back soon. 

“Who’s that?” Juno mumbled sleepily, his gaze shifting to Peter. 

“It was Buddy. Perhaps we should head back to the Carte Blanche.”

Juno nodded, sliding off the car but stopping short halfway to the driverside. 

“Would you like me to drive, dear?.”

Juno looked like he wanted to protest, like he wanted to tell Peter that he wouldn’t actually crash, but instead he just nodded and tossed the keys over the car. 

~~~

Peter knew that they would have to talk properly, they had to talk about Juno trusting him and the rest of their family; they would definitely have to talk about Juno’s allusions to his… more self destructive tendencies. For now, though, Juno dozing on his shoulder, the night road leading them home, would be enough to put both of their minds at rest for the night.

[willadisastercry]

Keith relapsing and not being able to stop once he starts...

tw: in depth depiction of acting on self harm ideations/urges, scars, relapsing, becoming ill from blood loss, someone discovering a person after they relapse, rationalizing their self harm because the alternative is suicide, contradicting oneself and later very much deciding they would rather be unalived, panic attack symptoms, reopening a wound, allusion to surgery (stitches)

Keith’s coping skills are admittedly not his strong suit, neither are his self destructive tendencies that either have him isolating himself from the team or sacrificing himself for them. Believe it or not though, those weren’t even the worst of his bad habits. He hadn’t seriously been addicted in years, just here and then relapses. But he’d been looking at his scars a lot lately and wanting to make more, cut deeper. He hadn’t hurt himself while they’d been in space but was having more and more moments that he wanted to. And then when he finally concedes he sort of loses himself in it, not realizing what he’s doing and how far he’s pushing it until he’s on the verge of passing out.

(((( Please, please, please read the trigger warnings and proceed with caution before reading this. I vividly describe Keith’s internal struggle as he relapses from third person pov where he then passes out and is found by someone... if anything even remotely regarding self harming or someone discovering a person who has is sensitive to you I HIGHLY RECOMMEND YOU DONT READ )))) Also it’s just very emotionally heavy so that is something to consider too!!!!!!

Part 1 / Part 2

He isn’t sure what it was that made him want to again.

The stark change in environment definitely didn’t help. Neither did the pressure of being the universe’s only hope. But he mainly attributed it to the lingering depression that he figured he was now just supposed to ignore.

Maybe it was none of it.

Or maybe it was all of it.

He just knew that the decision didn’t come after a particularly rough day or week. It didn’t come with tears or a surplus of emotions. It came when he thought he couldn’t possibly feel number.

The weight of his entire body on top of his legs as he walked to the showers didn’t convince him he was standing. The heat of the steaming water burned for only a moment and when it ran cold it didn’t shock him for much longer.

His vision tunneled as his gaze bore into the tiles in front of him, a soft static clouding it and making the bright lights of the communal bathroom appear to dim.

This happened occasionally, that he didn’t feel much of anything. Definitely not happy, but also not sad or frustrated or angry. Painfully neutral. Agonizingly numb. Like he was trudging through a thick fog and everything was too dull to feel strongly about so he was desperate to simply feel anything.

That’s why when he wrapped the towel around his waist and the rough fabric brushed against his thighs, he shuddered at being reminded of what was beneath, the sensitivity tempting him like an itch he needed to scratch.

He knew he shouldn’t do it here, that it was too risky. But his heart clenched and sunk at the thought of how empty he felt, devoid of all feeling except the urge to do something that might take away the awful nothing.

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to help himself this time as he moved robotically across the washroom, his eyes still unfocused as he dug the razor he shaves with out of his toiletry bag. He had it disassembled in seconds and stood over the counter, mesmerized at how the blades glinted in his hand.

“Shit...” he breathed as he set them down.

He went to the pile of clothes he brought to change into and shrugged on his boxers, dropping the towel on the bench with the rest of his stuff before shrugging on his sweatshirt.

He stared at the old marks on his legs as he stepped through his gym shorts. They were mostly thin and pink, some white, some raised and a darker red. Most of them parallel to each other and only a few straying from the otherwise neat arrangement.

His heart lapped expectantly his chest. The desire felt more like a compulsion now, like nothing else would possibly help the way picking up the razor would. He knew it was his disordered mind making him think so irrationally, but in that moment he couldn’t see a reason to believe otherwise.

He walked back to the sinks and pulled several paper towels from the dispenser before picking the razor back up.

“Shit...” he whispered again.

It wasn’t that he was actively trying to stay clean but for one reason or another he had managed to be for a while. And then, however fleetingly, something in him recognized that he was breaking. That he was betraying a sort of progress he hadn’t intended to make by turning back to his worst habit, one that seemed more like an actual addiction when he really thought about it.

But it was better than the alternative. This was always better than the alternative.

(willa here-NO ITS NOT!)

His hands start moving in a way he knew all too well, tucking the leg of his shorts up and bringing the razor down with a steady hand.

He started in a sort of empty spot on his left thigh, a familiar ripple of nerve endings sparking in odd places, down his leg to his toes and up his back to his shoulder blade as he dared the blade deeper with each line.

With his other hand he caught the blood as it dripped with paper towels, occasionally pressing them against the wounds and noting how the harsh lights lit the bloody papers up when he held them a certain way.

It still shocked him how easy it was for him to do this, how desperate he was for more. More blood, more adrenaline, more lines on his skin.

He shuddered again, the hair on his legs perking up at how cold he was.

He stared down at the mess that was now his thigh, a pleasant hum running through his body as his breathing picked up now that his brain was making the connection that his body was hurting.

That was a start, but ne wanted to feel the rush. The dizzying malaise he usually got from going deeper but he wasn’t entirely sure how he’d be able to get all the way to the infirmary with the state of his thigh already and retrieve the right supplies to take care of himself after he did more damage to it.

So he steeled himself and pushed the waistband of his underwear down on his right hip, holding his sweatshirt up under his arm. The skin there was taught and smooth, he’d cut there before but nothing more than a few thin white lines remained. It had hurt more doing it on there, he had to press harder and it stung worse, whatever he managed also took longer to heel because it’d constantly open back up.

But he didn’t care anymore. He wanted to feel the pain even after it was over, wanted something there that he could aggravate to remind him he was still a person for when he felt like he wasn’t.

And so he pressed the razor down. The bloody towel from before falling to the ground as he took a new one to his hip. Red began coating his leg in thin trails, a small puddle of it gathering at his foot but he couldn’t find the energy to bother with the mess at that moment.

Because, fuck.

It hurt just like he knew it would and he breathed out a heavy breath. His legs were beginning to feel heavier, like he’d been floating and was coming back to the ground, slowly getting reacquainted with the weight of his body.

As soon as he started on his hip he sort of knew he’d fucked up because the high came so quickly, his mind traveling somewhere else, somewhere he didn’t see himself ever stopping.

The deepest gashes on his leg throbbed and bled freely as he fixated on the opening skin of his hip, the lines becoming rushed and sporadic as the only thing on his mind became producing as much of that feeling as possible.

He only stopped when he went so deep his eyes literally watered and had him clamping the towel over the wound before he saw the blood well from it because he knew if he did he’d have wanted to see more of that much pink.

“Fuck, fuck...” he managed through gasps.

His breathing was becoming ragged, his body light and his mind quiet. The high was intoxicating, the adrenaline rush more intense than the ones he got from battle. He struggled to analyze how that was even possible as it grew harder and harder to form a coherent thought through the haze.

He knew he should get cleaned up. That if he felt like doing more he could later, but he just really needed to not be openly bleeding with a razor in his hand the next time someone needed to pee. So he tried to blink through the blur and really look at the condition of his leg.

Blood dripped in several continuous streams that met around his ankle and pooled at his feet, the main bleeders deep enough to elicit a small spark of fear in his gut.

“Well that’s not good.”

He almost laughed but turned the sink on instead, splashing water onto his leg and watching the red dissipate until the majority of it had flowed through the drain in the floor.

Moving around made his head swim so he figured he should probably take care of the bleeding sitting down. He threw the dismantled razor back into his bag and scanned the sink area for blood before dazedly leaning against the wall to glance back down at his leg.

The sight of his thigh was almost as mesmerizing as the glinting metal of the blades. It stung and pulsed as blood both beaded and gushed from several cuts still, his side faring the same although the pressure from the waistband of his shorts holding a quickly dampening bunch of paper towels to the wounds was almost worse. Both pains made his heart lurch pleasantly somehow. He felt so mentally at ease despite his body sort freaking out over the blood he was still very much losing.

Keith couldn’t tell why he was shaking but decided the answer wasn’t good as he pressed more towels to his thigh, focusing on keeping as steady a pressure as he could muster so they’d clot and he could go back to his room.

But soon his head started to swim without him moving at all, the tiles shifting before his eyes in a nauseating swirl as he lowered himself to the ground more carefully than he cared to. The bunch of towels he’s holding limply in his hand were soaked through and he didn’t think he could get back up for more without passing out.

He breathed a heavy sigh and resolved that he would just put pressure on his leg until it stopped bleeding and he felt less dizzy.

It was eerily peaceful as he sat there while his body buzzed and his skin burned. It’s the most present he’d been with himself in weeks and it made him sad how this is what it took to feel like that.

To feel anything at all.

He registered briefly that he could cry if he considered it any longer, so he just pressed harder on his thigh and drew his elbow in closer to his hip.

Time felt weird after that.

There were moments he remembered feeling incredibly alert as his heart pounded and his head pulsed angrily. Others where the darkness boardering his vision encroached dangerously, at times succeeding where he’d jolt up after slumping forward like when he’d caught himself nodding off in class at the garrison.

Keith didn’t know he’d closed his eyes again until they were shooting open but this time at the whoosh of the door to the bathroom. He tried to get up but moving hurt and made him feel even more floaty and so he settled back down with a small whimper.

“Keith? Is that you?”

It was Lance.

Of all people, of course it was Lance.

He wasn’t sure wether to be relieved or not, because it could’ve been someone worse like Hunk or Pidge or... Shiro, but it was also Lance.

“We’ve been looking every—Keith...?”

The way his voice broke when he rounded the corner and took in what must have been a sight almost broke Keith as well, but he was riding a disorienting high after doing what he did and couldn’t find the energy to feel more than the faintest twinge of shame.

“Wait, woah, what the fuck dude... what-what did you do?”

Lance stood frozen for a moment. Eyes wide as his mind wrapped itself around what he was seeing. And then his demeanor shifted entirely as he strode toward Keith’s prone form.

He knelt in front of his sprawled legs and studied the saturated towels that lay over his thigh and the small pool of blood beneath him.

“I... I fucked up...”

Keith’s chest ploomed with anxiety as he said those words, the weight of them hanging on his tongue as his mind processed just how unfortunate it was that he’d been found like this. Lance’s brows wrinkled at that statement until he looked at his other thigh and saw scars, old scars.

“Oh... shit, dude.”

Keith’s lazy eyes met Lance’s worried ones for a moment, each boy waiting for the other to push one way or another. He was fairly certain he’d be more embarrassed if he didn’t feel so heavy.

It was Lance who finally caved and broke the silence and it’d be a lie to say Keith wasn’t relieved.

“Can I-can I help you?” his voice was as gentle as Keith recalled ever hearing it.

“I get it if you want nothing to do with me right now, I probably wouldn’t either, but you seem a bit out of it... so is that okay? I could get Shiro if you want—”

“No! Don’t get Shiro. There’s n-no reason to worry hi-him about this, m’fine.”

Keith mentally cursed himself for not being able to get out a full sentence without stuttering. But his entire body was trembling now, the pleasant buzz slipping farther and farther away as the overwhelming feeling that something was wrong made itself more apparent.

Which made sense.

The bleeding hadn’t let up much and he’d seen a good amount of blood disappear down the drain. This was probably worse than his hazey mind was letting him perceive it to be which was evident in the way his eyes had started to flutter shut again.

“-eith! This not really the time to take a nap,” Lance urged grimly, his bottom lip already raw from where he was worrying at it.

“Hm?”

“I was just saying how I think you need a refresher on the definition of ‘fine’ but if you really don’t want me to get Shiro, I won’t. I am going to get a first aid kit though, don’t uh-don’t go anywhere.”

“Ha, don’t think you need to worry about that,” Keith assured as he closed his eyes once more and let the warm buzz under his skin be the only thing at the forefront of his mind once he heard the door close after Lance.

It was only when the other boy was shaking his shoulder that he opened them again. He wasn’t sure why he kept falling asleep. He was certain he wasn’t like bleeding out or anything but his body felt so heavy and weak that keeping his eyes open was a chore.

It was probably a mix of things, he hadn’t slept much at all that week and had trained twice that day, barely eating before the group session in the morning and not having much after his individual spar either.

He’d also hurt himself worse than he’d like to acknowledge in that moment, so he kept his gaze focused anywhere other than down after the other boy roused him.

“Some of these are pretty bad,” Lance noted as he took away the towels on his leg and pressed thick squares of gauze against the deepest, pouring some clear solution on another sterile pad before bringing it down on the lesser wounds.

He was strangely calm for stumbling across something so jarring, somehow mustering the strength to not objectively freak out just yet and do what needed to be done first.

“Sorry, probably stings...” he offered when he saw Keith’s face twitch up.

He only hummed in response. He was really tired still and didn’t see the point in wasting his energy talking.

Lance peaked under the quickly saturating squares and frowned, sitting back on his heels with an exasperated sigh, using the middle of his arm to wipe the sweat on his forehead because his hands were too bloody.

“Keith...”

He decided that this was the demeanor he must have saved for when he had to be a protective older brother, his tone stern but soft, eyes large and serious.

“...some of these need stitches. I really do get you not wanting me to tell anyone but—“

“Glue,” Keith huffed, his mouth feeling like it was stuffed with gauze like the gashes on his leg.

“Heh?!”

“Ya, know? Like super glue...”

Lance gulped down the lump in his throat that was threatening to break his composure.

“Did I hear that right? You want me to-to glue them shut?”

If he didn’t look mortified Keith would’ve thought the bewildered scrunch to his face was sort of adorable.

“Course not... I would. M’just a little dizzy but I can do it, you don’t have to...” Keith assured as he moved to sit up more, wincing when the cuts on his hip pulled and gushed, his new position revealing the small puddle that had been gathering at his side.

“Keith, shit! Oh god, what the hell is that from—let me see,” Lance ordered as Keith’s hands moved to his sweatshirt, but they were stiff now and not working right.

Lance bypassed his useless hands that were still covered in dried blood and pulled his sweatshirt up enough to see smears of red trailing up his side and back from just below his boxers.

“Can I—uh, can I move this?” he asked worriedly, the edge to his voice softening.

The urge to tell Keith he shouldn’t hurt himself like this for whatever reason he did, because no reason he’d give would be good enough, passed as quickly as it arrived. It was replaced by a more pressing worry over what was beneath the alarmingly darker patch on what should be payne’s grey boxers shorts.

Keith breathed shakily and nodded, squirming when the other boy released the tension on the elastic to slide the blood soaked towels out, the wounds pulsing with vengeance as the pressure was lifted. Lance drew Keith’s eyes to his own once more.

“Gonna move this down a bit further where it’ll stay...”

“Kay,” Keith whispered, his glassy eyes fluttering shut as he leaned his head against the wall.

Lance fought to stifle his shock at the sight that was his hip as he uncovered the even worse mess and pressed gauze to it.

The wounds were... different. They were all different directions and of varying severities. Some were just scratches, but some showed so much pink Lance had to repeat to himself multiple times that it was just tissue and not bone.

He didn’t even know how to go about cleaning these wounds. They were so wide. The skin so tight that when cut it stretched apart so much more.

“Keith...”

Lance stated his name as more of a concession, his firm voice finally losing it’s assurance. He didn’t even have to finish for Keith to know what he meant.

“Can you bring the med kit closer?” he asked casually, his eyes lidded now.

Lance slid it within arms reach and Keith rummaged through it for a minute before pulling out a large bottle of more clear liquid.

“It’s wound wash, not harsh like straight up disinfectant but it needs some of that too... press down hard after I get everything cleaned out, okay?”

He waited a beat for Lance to nod, his face had paled considerably and Keith couldn’t blame him. This was so fucked. All of it. He had to work to push the guilt building in his stomach down over how he’d put this impossibly traumatic experience on him, no emotional preparation, just the shock of finding one of his best friend’s like this.

He almost relished in the seering pain that followed the cold liquid as he flushed the wounds on his side, humming in approval when Lance quickly covered the area and pushed down forcefully. Both boys took in heaving breaths, the tension in the air taught with anxiety and sadness and guilt.

“Hey...” Keith deadpanned, the levity in his voice almost scary until it shifted into something more admonishing for being so ridiculous. “I’m-shit, I’m so sorry you had to—“

“Don’t. Whatever you’re about to apologize for, don’t.”

Lance was serious again. His gaze fixed on the rapidly reddening gauze underneath his hands.

“No, I have to. It’s not fair of me... that you have to do this,” Keith managed before he had to take a second to let the blood rush dissipate, blinking rapidly as the rumbling in his eardrums died down.

Lance laughed breathily once he saw what had stopped his unnecessary apology.

“Hmm, I’ll compromise. You can save it for when you feel less like shit, but you have to shut up for now or I will go and get Shiro—ah, that’s what I thought.”

Keith grumbled lowly as he pressed his fingers on either side of his forehead, the headache that he thought was dulling back in full force.

“Okay, so I don’t know what you mean about super glue...” Lance said as he shuffled through the contents of the kit.

“Do alteans even have something like that?”

“Yep... blue glass, rubber stopper...”

“Gonna put a pin in why you just know that off the top of your head alongside all the other things we’ll be discussing later and—oh jeez, this stuff smells vile!”

“Breathe through your mouth then. Hand it to me I’m gonna hold it closed,” Keith ordered, his words slow and overly emphasized as he tried to make the way he would occasionally slur less noticeable.

His hands still trembled as they clamped the sides of one of the deepest gashes on his leg together, but it was only when he switched his grip to receive the stopper that his strength wavered. Blood seeped through his now weak hold on the wound and prevented the glue from adhering correctly.

“Oh, fuck...” Keith groaned as he wiped away the goo before it could get into the wound, not really getting there in time and hissing when it burned a new sort of fire into the sliced flesh.

“Just let me do it—“

“No, I got it.“

“Keith...”

“I can do it—“

“Keith.”

Lance pulled his shaking hands into his and searched his bleary eyes, willing his distant gaze to focus on him for just a second.

“Let me do it.”

Keith cursed himself silently for not being able to summon tears any other time than now, unsteady hands holding his own skin together as one of his best friends sealed it shut.

They were silent for a while, Lance working diligently as he kept an eye on the rapidly deteriorating boy. It wasn’t as bad as he imagined, his initial disdain probably for how nonchalantly Keith had suggested it, like he’d done it plenty of times and it was nothing.

Because it wasn’t nothing. And it broke Lance’s heart each time they moved to another uncloseable wound, their hands working together to keep it shut until the glue hardened.

They repeated this process dozens of times until his leg and his side glistened unevenly under the puckering glaze. By the end of it Keith could barely keep his eyes open, his body buzzing visibly now, breaths rushed and shallow.

“Looks like the bleeding has pretty much stopped... I’m gonna, uh, bandage it up now. Hang with me for like 5 more minutes and then we’ll figure out how to get you to your room...” Lance offered as he tapped Keith on his knee to get him to lift his leg.

It took him a minute to make sense of his words but he didn’t give resistance when the other boy propped his leg up against his own to get a stretchy wrap around the thick layer of gauze he’d placed on top. He’d applied a layer of medicated salve that would both numb the area slightly and make sure it didn’t get infected.

His hip would be a tad trickier.

“I think it would be easier if you laid down...” Lance suggested and placed his hand on his shoulder to guide him as he moved, his head coming to rest in folded arms, hip presented more accessibly than before.

He’d have probably been more embarrassed to be so exposed if it wasn’t Lance and his entire ass cheek practically being out was the least of his sources of shame and regret in that moment. Not regret for what happened, it would’ve regardless, regret for having been so stupid to get caught.

Keith’s consciousness wavered again, his mind falling into a void of bliss as his thoughts tapered out until the burning on his side brought him back with a slight start.

Lance apologized as he cleaned the area again, gently scrubbing at the dried blood around the wounds and on his stomach. He applied the same medicine and packed the gauze on top of the glue that binded them together precariously but taped the edges down instead, going around and overlapping the first set of strips to ensure it’d stay before pulling his shorts over it. Keith was trembling so heavily once he was done that Lance thought he could almost hear his teeth chattering.

“I’m gonna go pack up your stuff. I’ll be right back.”

Keith murmured something unintelligible into his arms in response and brought his legs up to his chest, the cold tile beneath him not helping his inability to stop shaking. The sting of the wounds on his body even as they stretched was duller now, only a difference in the normal heat of his skin reminded him they were there.

He felt like he was bone dry of all energy and wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers on his bed and sleep for a thousand years. His mind wanted to spiral and process what had just happened but the fog that addled it prevailed and made concentrating too hard, too painful. He was surprised he hadn’t fully nodded off before Lance was shaking him again.

“I’ve got your stuff. Don’t be a tool about this and give me your hands,” he ordered as he held out his own, Keith’s towel thrown over his shoulder and his toiletries packed up in his shower bag with his dirty clothes.

Keith moved his feet under him and reached for Lance’s wrists who used the grip to pull him up slowly, watching as the deep set grimace on his face gave away just how bad he was feeling. The orientation made him a whole new type of woozy.

Lance watched as the color in Keith’s face drained but before he could react he was stumbling try to stay upright.

“Fuck,” he breathed unevenly as Lance’s hands were suddenly on his back and pulling him close as soon as his legs buckled.

“I’ll be okay in a minute... just—“

“Dizzy?”

The laugh that escaped Lance’s lips was dry.

Keith nodded into his shoulder, his grip on Lance’s arm tightening as he fought the vertigo making him want to lose what little was actually in his stomach.

“K-kay, we can go...”

Lance held Keith by the shoulders as he stepped away from him to come around on his other side, picking up his arm and slinging it around his shoulder.

They made their way slowly, Keith’s legs were weak and though he was terrified someone would approach them before they made it to his room, willing them to go any faster would have been dangerous.

So he pushed through, ignoring just how lightheaded he was until Lance was shifting his weight to reach the keypad, the door of his room whooshing open as his legs turned to jelly and wobbled dangerously, unable to bear being left to support his own weight.

“Shit, Keith...” Lance yelped as he struggled to get a hold on him before he went down.

Lance shushed Keith as he tried to apologize again for twisting his hands up in Lance’s t-shirt as they took an experimental step forward only to waver again. The firm arm around his middle was all that kept him standing this time.

“I’ve gotcha—no, it’s happening. Don’t bother fighting it.”

Without another moment of consideration Lance was tossing Keith’s things to the side then hoisting him up and over his shoulder on his better side with his hands carefully placed behind the crook of his knees, completely tuning out the weak protests as he gently deposited his now very flustered friend onto his bed.

“That was... unnecessary...”

“Don’t care. How do you feel?” Lance asked seriously, his features set like stone as he sat at the end of the bed and searched his friend’s face for any sign of further discomfort.

“What do you mean?” Keith’s voice was quiet, hesitant.

“You almost passed out again, do you need water?”

“Lance—“

“Food’s probably a good idea, it’ll get you’re energy back up since you missed dinner. I could go run and grab something—“

“Lance, stop!”

Keith’s entire body seemed to still for the first time in forever as he visibly tensed, his eyes wide with indigo and fear.

“Stop what...?”

“Acting like—“

“Like what? That I care if you’re okay?!”

Lance’s voice took on a bite of hurt that made Keith’s skin crawl.

“Because of course I do! I can’t just not care because you don’t want anyone to give a shit about what happens to you.”

“I’m sorry that you’re contractually obligated to give a shit...” Keith’s tone was flat and emotionless.

“...but you shouldn’t.”

“Why?! I care about you even if you don’t want me to, neither of us can help that but—fuck. You hurt yourself tonight, Keith! And I know it’s not the first time but you still did and that deserves to fucking matter to you too.”

Keith’s eyes were burning holes into his floor with how intently he stared anywhere other than Lance’s face.

“Look we don’t have to get into all of that right now, I just need to make sure you’re physically okay at least. So, please answer my question honestly. How do you feel?”

The room spun as he fought tears back once more, not breaking his eye contact with the ground when he answered.

“Shitty.”

“Okay, what brand of shitty are we dealing with? Still dizzy?”

Keith thought for a moment and nodded, his eyes now stuck in an unbreakable gaze as he stared. Dissociating was easier than being fully present for a conversation regarding how he felt, even if it was only about how he felt physically, he was still woefully uncomfortable.

“Okay, what else? Does your head hurt? Yeah? Do you think Coran’s advil stuff would help...? Kay, i’ll try and dig some up. Anything else extremely pressing before I go? On a scale of 1-10 how much do you think you might pass out before I get back, 1 being very unlikely and 10 most likely...”

Keith’s eyes lidded as he tried to blink back to reality, they met Lance’s for a second before he looked at his hands that he couldn’t really feel now with how much they tingled, pricks from phantom pins and needles the only thing that convinced him they were still there.

“Mmhn, dunno... I feel really weird.”

That seemed to snap Lance right back into emergency caregiving mode as he moved closer to Keith and examined his still palid face, eyeing the sheen of sweat coating with a wary frown.

“Lay down. No, on your side in case you yak—well, no not that you will, just in case.”

Lance had to ammend his statement when he saw the worry spread across Keith’s face, his hand dropping to smooth the tension out of the shoulder drawn nearly up to his ear for a second.

“You’re okay.”

The assurance seemed to be more for Lance than Keith in that moment but both boys seemed in desperate need of hearing it out loud.

“I’ll be back soon.”

And with that Lance was leaving him again, dimming the lights before he did to ease the strain on his eyes and the pressure behind them.

Even when he pressed his eyes closed he couldn’t escape the sensation that he was spinning, the room tilting as he rocked back and forth in attempt to calm himself down and replace the phantom feeling with actuality. The rocking was hard to maintain though with how tense his muscles were as they spasmed, his breathing becoming more labored as he struggled.

Keith soon found himself on the cusp of crying yet again as he tried to keep himself awake. It wasn’t that it was hard, but a familiar anxiety was taking root, one similar to how he’d have trouble falling asleep when he was restless at night. Except he wasn’t supposed to sleep now, he desperately wanted to though.

He wanted to sleep to forget but also knew that Lance would worry and wake him up again. But even though he wasn’t trying to fall asleep, the mounting frustration of not being able to relax and stop trembling pushed him over the edge of everything, leaving him with no choice other than to give in to the tears that he’d been withholding.

The tremors that racked his body once he did were born from hysterical sobs. He was so tired. He just wanted to be asleep already, but the kind of sleep he just happened to continue forever. Not that he wanted to die, it was simpler than that. He just couldn’t stand to be him and sleeping would make it easier.

A gnawing itch seemed to spread across his body then, one that made him want to crawl out of his own skin. He wanted so desperately to not be there when Lance got back. Wanted to evaporate like he’d never even been there in the first place.

Soon he lost the ability to supress it at all.

He was fairly certain he was wailing then, his back arching and chest pumping as he tried to gasp between cries, the latter only making him more disoriented as he fought his rapidly dulling senses. It was like he’d been possessed, his body ridding the emotion he’d been subconsciously repressing any way it could despite what he did in effort to stop it.

The lights turned back on without warning and his eyes clenched tighter as he cried out even louder. Each breath he took closer and closer to a wheeze, the tears not stopping even though he’d blown well through his energy reserves.

“-ith! Keith, Keith! What’s wrong, what’s happening?!”

He couldn’t make out who the voice belonged to after he made the connection that it was not Lance, but he couldn’t open his eyes to check with the lights still on.

“Shhhh, c’mon you’re okay. Breathe, bud.”

The person’s hands were on his shoulders as his body worked mercilessly, shuddering and hitching with each breath. He could barely hear their assurances over the ringing in his ears and the sounds of his chest working.

“You’re alright, I’m here—“

But Keith heard the door when it whooshed opened this time.

“Wha-Shiro...? Oh, fuck.”

Ugh.

No, no, no...

That was decidedly the worst thing he thought could happen while he tried to regain his composure, Shiro hearing him and finding him like this.

He needed to get away from his hands as they tried to soothe him, he didn’t want to be soothed, he wanted to disappear. He writhed on the bed and he fought to turn himself onto his back, hands grasping at his chest as his breathing became more ragged when he did, kicking his leg over and curling onto his other side to try and alleviate it.

The scream that tore from his throat was a shrill one as he opened several of the wounds on his hip. He could distantly hear Shiro agonizing over not knowing what the fuck was happening when Lance cursed.

“You idiot! Shit. Crap. On your stomach bud, come on...” Lance ordered as he yanked Keith’s legs away from his chest and pushed his hips so that he rolled over.

“Lance,” Shiro breathed cautiously. “I need you to tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t, like I really can’t. It’s not my, uh, place but he also didn’t exactly tell me either so it’s not like I could if I wanted to. He’s okay, though! Well, relatively, I guess.”

Lance actually winced at the death glare Shiro gave him when he finished.

“Alright! I went to get him water and something to eat but he was fine when I left, I think he’s a little overwhelmed is all. Had a pretty bad headache before,” Lance added as he moved over to the switch and turned the lights down once again.

“Okay, but this is more than just being overwhelmed, Lance. He sounded like he was having a nightmare but he’s not even alseep...” Shiro pressed, retracting his hand from where he tried to rub the middle of Keith’s back when he shrunk under the touch, whimpering lightly and stuttering breathily into the pillow he’d shoved his face into.

Lance eyed his side with concern when Shiro looked back to Keith’s trembling frame. His heart hurt. The kid was practically his brother and he couldn’t tell him what had happened. He wasn’t sure Keith would ever speak to him again if he did.

“You’re right, but you’re gonna have to press him yourself because I would enjoy keeping all of my digits.”

“Lance, I swear. I will be the one removing your digits if you don’t tell me what the hell—wait, Lance is that-is that blood?”

“Mierda. Keith... ugh. I’m sorry, man,” Lance ushered and reached for his friend’s hand when Shiro forwent all courtesies as he roughly pulled him over onto his other side, hands searching wildly.

The sounds Keith made once he knew what was happening threatened to bring Lance to a similar state. His expression pleading as clumsy hands fell onto Shiro’s with desperation.

“N-no, n-n-no, don’t. Don’t—Lance! Lance, p-please. T-tell-tell him n-tell h-him not t—”

But it was too late, there was no stopping Shiro as he hiked up his sweatshirt and stared for a moment before spotting the hint of white tape peaking out from below where his underwear rose up. Lance scratched his head nervously while he watched Shiro peel the edges of the bloodied bandage up.

“Oh...”

No one spoke while Shiro processed what he was seeing, the only sounds were Keith’s pitiful cries as he covered his eyes in the crook of his arm, clamping the other over his mouth to try and quiet his sobs.

“I thought you’d stopped, Keith...”