#fun fact!! ears (or at least the outside part of them) bleed like a lot. but they dont have a ton of nerve endings

[moons-now-seperate-art-blog]

Art! Could we get the moment Green lost part of his ear? :D

It was entirely out of stupidity <3

(They sparred with wooden swords after this.)

[twstfanblog]

*~Period Drama~* Monday

A/N: SCREAMS. There was no reason why this took me so long to get out. But it's here and I hope you guys like it! Another thank you to @bun-lapin for allowing me to use their lovely OCs for this fic series! I love them so much and I'm having so much fun playing with them! Word Count: 8.4K Words (God damn the next part is gonna be even bigger...) Warnings: She/They Pronouns OC, Period talk, Mentions of labor and pregnancy. Pairings: JamilxOC (Poly), Paternal Crewel &OC ~TagList @twistedcece @deltrea @krenenbaker @koebishrimpuwu @cat100200 @emyluwinter Start, Part 2 (Octavinelle), Part 3 (Heartslabyul), Part 4 (Here), Part 4.5 (Diasomnia pt.1), Part 5 (Diasomnia pt.2), Part 6 (Pomefiore), Part 7 (Scarabia)

Yuu felt awful, just total dog shit in a bag and on fire awful. But, that was to be expected when they had their period and hadn’t been able to take any pain medication. So, in all honesty, they should be fine.

Yuu checked themselves over in the bathroom mirror. Huffing under their breath and trying to get their hair to settle in a less haggard fashion. They weren’t too sure if they should even go to class. But then they thought about the fact they enjoyed school in Twisted Wonderland. They had teachers who, begrudgingly, took time out of their days to help them understand the coursework. It felt like some kind of disservice to skip out just to laze around their dorm in pain. Not to mention Crewel would have to either visit himself or have someone else bring them food and pain medicine for the day. It just sounded like a lot of unnecessary back-and-forth for everyone else that Yuu wasn’t in the mood to put their loved ones through.

 So, Yuu had put her big girl panties on - with a hand towel between her legs for blood catching, hoping she wasn't going to bleed through it - and got out of bed to go to school. She should also try to pick Grim up from Scarabia. While she’s sure her cat companion was having fun being held and hand-fed gourmet crackers, she did miss the furball and if Jamil’s update texts were of any merit, he was pouting about being away from her for so long.

Now fully dressed, and stiff with muscle aches, Yuu sighed as they walked out of their dorm. At least they were able to leave much earlier than they normally were. No Grim to drag out of bed and the fact they had been awake for hours beforehand playing a very key role. With the Sun just barely peeking over the thick woods, they started their journey to the main road to the school.

But, stepping onto the dirt path that branched off from the paved walkways of the school’s actual borders, Yuu pauses, calling out, “...Jack?”

Tall gray-furred ears perk up, the massive figure they were on freezing at the call of his name. Jack turned around slowly, almost in confusion at being called out to. But seeing it was Yuu who called to him, his wide-eyed expression shifted, his eyebrows creasing as his eyes darted to the dorm before moving back to Yuu, “Why are you outside?”

“No, no, good boy. This is still my property. I ask the questions first. What are you doing out here?” Yuu raises an eyebrow, walking closer to Jack and watching as he seemed to grow more nervous.

“I was…Just on my morning jog…”

“...At 7:30am?” Yuu smiles, tilting her at different angles with each question, “Without Vil? In your school uniform? Walking at a leisurely pace?”

“Yes, what of it?”

Yuu smiled, covering her mouth as she playfully batted at Jack’s arm, the other freshman scowling and twitching his body away from her hits, “Aw~. Were you checking on me?”

“NO, stop hitting me!”

“Oh, by the seven. I lived to see the day! Jack Howl, caring for his classmates. His heart has softened! He shows his emotions on his sleeve! His tail is wagging with glee!” “Shut up! It’s not!” Jack quickly looked behind him, just to double check his tail wasn’t actually wagging before he turned back to Yuu, “That’s not important! Why are you outside? Go back inside!”

“No? I’m going to class.” Yuu shrugs, moving to walk past him before the towering freshman steps in their path, “Jack. I was in a silly goofy mood, but not enough for this. Step aside.”

Shaking his head, Jack folds his arms in front of his chest, “No. You’re injured. You should be resting, not going to school. We’ll bring you your notes or something. Go back home.”

“No~.” Yuu tried to step past Jack again, only to lock them both into a half-step and jump dance that quickly had Yuu groaning in frustration, “Fucking move your enormous self!”

“No! You’re going back to Ramshackle to rest properly.” Jack moves forward, hands braced to clearly pick Yuu up to carry them back to the dorm physically.

“Jack.” Yuu steps back, a hand held up in a motion of ‘Stop’, “If you fucking touch me, I will eject blood on you so hard it’ll bruise you and never come out of your jacket.”

Jack instantly steps back, hands pulling back to his sides in mild fear. He…had no idea if that was even a thing. Was it a thing? Could Yuu actually somehow spray him with blood with enough pressure to harm him physically? He didn’t want to find out. Looking away, Jack steps back another pace, “I just…Should you be walking around? You don’t look good…”

Yuu sighed, tilting their head back, “I’m…gonna live. Don’t worry about it, I’m gonna get a quick pain potion from Crewel and just…fucking deal.” Rolling their neck, they shrug their shoulders and finally falling in step beside Jack to slap his back, “Come on, good boy. We got an education to get.”

“...” Jack sighed, quickly falling into pace with Yuu’s lazy stride, “Stop calling me that. Leona-Senpai keeps mocking me for it.”

“Good, you’re too big. You need to be mocked before you get any taller.”

The walk to the main building was longer than Yuu cared to remember. It was only longer with Jack constantly pointing out that Yuu counted as ‘ill’ and that it would make sense for them to skip class for the day. Then, when Yuu would simply state they were fine, Jack would offer to just carry them on his back to the school since they were clearly in pain.

“Jack, you’re very sweet. I will literally bleed on you just to prove a point. Drop it.”

The beastman huffed, looking away in annoyance but not bringing it up anymore on their walk. But in the semi-crowded hallways, Jack didn't leave for his own class. He looked conflicted, glancing at Yuu then down the hall to where he was supposed to be. He didn’t want to leave his friend unattended. The scent of their blood was stronger the longer he walked with them and he could only guess how much stronger it would get during the day. Looking around, he could see the other beastmen glancing at them in various degrees of concern and bewilderment.

“Don’t you have to go to class?”

Looking from their surroundings, Jack turned back to Yuu. He sometimes forgot just how small they felt beside him. Sure they weren't the shortest of their friends and they wore heels whenever they could, not to mention they fit into Night Raven almost too well with the number of students they've sent to the medical wing. But smelling their blood, seeing how tired and simply weathered they looked…it made a part of him want to just scoop them into his arms. Try to hum and growl the obvious pain away, like how his own parents did when he hurt himself in his childhood.

But, he'd rather Yuu actually spray him like some kind of demented blood skunk than say that to them, "Yeah I'm…Yuu. You know you smell…weird right?"

The look in Yuu's eyes literally made a bead of cold sweat form at his temple. Piercing yellow eyes quickly looking away from deep, near soulless appearing black pupils as he stuttered. Yuu somehow managed to learn Crewel-Sensei's famous "I will skin you alive and wear it as a coat" glare, something that quickly put anyone on edge because they weren't sure if they'd actually try to do it.

"Not! Not like 'smell bad' weird! Just…off…like…" he blushes, a hand coming up to nervously thumb at a pinned back ear, trying to find the right words, "You…you smell like a lady…"

The glare had thankfully faded to a simple "That was the dumbest thing I ever heard in my life" expression. Yuu tilted their head both in question and to look Jack directly in his sheepish eyes,"..." They sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose and gesturing down the hall with their other hand, "Jack, go to class."

"But-"

"Go to class."

"Bye, Yuu."

They sigh, watching Jack's hunched figure scurry down the hall and into a classroom. Honestly, the fucking men of this school…

With a spin on their heel, missing the crowd of beastmen who jump and scramble out of their way, they walk toward the teacher's lounge. Hopefully, they'll catch Crewel before he made his way to homeroom for the morning roll call.

Instead, Yuu ran into Jamil and Kalim. The two second-years standing in front of a classroom and seeming to be arguing. Grim held in one of Jamil’s arms and clearly pouting. Whether it was from the lazy hold or his own bad mood, Yuu couldn't tell.

"I can take Grim with me to class. You already have issues focusing and Grim won't be any help in that avenue."

Kalim pouts, trying to take Grim from Jamil only to be denied each time, "Come on! You won't cuddle with him and he'll be so sad until lunch. Shouldn't we do our best to keep him happy until Yuu is feeling better?"

Jamil rolls his eyes, smacking Kalim’s hand away once again, "Yuu doesn't even try to keep Grim happy at all times. He can handle not being cradled for a few hours."

Yuu walks up beside the two, hands easily snatching Grim from Jamil’s grasp in his surprise, "I don't indulge him, Jamil. There's a difference." Yuu smiles, feeling Grim instantly start purring under her grip, shifting him until he was able to rest his arms on her shoulders in a lazy hug, "Sup buddy?"

"Why the hell are you here?"

"Hello to you too, Jamil, my love."

Grim grumbles, nuzzling into Yuu's shoulder, but pulling his ears back at their scent, "You still smell weird…" his grumbles turning into purrs as Yuu scratches behind his ear.

"Yeah. I'm still on the bleed, but I should be ok."

"How!?" Jamil looked ready to either burst a blood vessel, or simply grapple them to the ground to drag them back to Ramshackle. Which was fair, but Yuu felt like if anyone besides Grim touched them they'd start swinging.

Yuu shrugs, "It's fine. I'm…living. I can handle a day at school. Did it all the time back home."

"Yeah, I don't think that was healthy…" Kalim gives them a nervous smile, clearly wanting to gather them up in a hug but having enough sense to take note of their expression, "You look…upset…"

"Oh, I am. But, that's normal."

Jamil finally relaxed, if only to pinch the bridge of his nose, "Why are you here? You should go home, you're not well."

"Jamil." Yuu placed a hand on one of his shoulders, stepping closer to press their sides together and let the second-year wrap his arms around them, even though the contact was slowly worsening their mood, "It's gonna be fine. I'm on my way to get a pain potion from Crewel. I'm going to be sitting all day. So unless by some miraculous, horrible, divine intervention and periods become contiguous? Everyone else is gonna be fine, too."

"..." Kalim suddenly stepped back, his hands covering his lower stomach in brief panic, "Wait, it's contiguous?"

"No, you fucking- I'm gonna go." Yuu pulls away from Jamil, managing to pry the second-year's hands from their jacket, " I'm gonna go before I clock Kalim in the face."

"Me!? What'd I do!? I'm sorry!"

"Stop talking." Yuu took a breath, moving their arms to properly support Grim slung over their shoulder, "No offense Kalim,  but the sound of your voice is activating my fight response. So I'm leaving before I put it into action." They nodded in farewell, almost stomping away from the confused duo. Missing the panic that slowly grew over Jamil’s face before he pulled his phone out and started texting someone.

Yuu walked down the hallway, doing her best to keep her mood above the poverty line. Beastmen bobbed and weaved through the crowds, watching Yuu through doorways and running back around corners when they saw she had noticed their staring. Normally she’d attribute it to Savanaclaw reacting to one of her and Leona’s public squabbles, but too many uniforms were sporting non-yellow ribbons to only be the Beast King’s dorm.

Showing up to the ornate door of the teachers' lounge, Yuu saw a group of beastmen from various dorms crowded around it, whispering sharply among themselves. Yuu stood back a few moments before speaking up, “Are you guys gonna move or go in?” 

The yowl the cat beastmen let out made everyone jump. Yuu stepped back as they all turned to look at her in what could be described as ‘horror’. 

“...Um…Hi?”

“Do you need help!?”

“...” Yuu looked at the other beastmen, each one almost shaking with panicked expressions, “I gotta…get into the teachers’ lounge. So can you guys move?”

They move as a unit, one of them even shoving another to get him out of their path faster. They stood in a single file line beside the door, looking at them in a mix of respect and fear. One started to scramble to remove his jacket, placing it on the ground for Yuu to walk on as if it were some kind of tiny red carpet. The taller boy smiles sheepishly and gestured for Yuu to go into the room.

…

Yuu looked down, doing their best to not walk on the jacket, “Okay…Thank you…Please leave.”

There was a second scrambling, the same student shoving the other straight to the ground as they all tried to leave. The cat beastman doubled back. He stood fidgeting with his fingers and biting his lip. Looking at him closer Yuu could see he was from Heartslabyul. Seeming to gather up his courage, he looked at her with a firm nod, “You’re doin’ great!'' Then he turned tail and ran down the hall. The group of them peeking from around the corner before fully disappearing.

…

Grim pulled his head from Yuu’s shoulder, looking at them in sleepy confusion, “What was that about?”

“I…I wish I could tell you, Grim…Let’s just go see Crewel.” Yuu leaves the jacket on the ground, stepping over it awkwardly and opening the door, “Oh, papa dog? Your favorite puppy is here.” Crewel’s head snapped around from his seat at a fast speed, Ingrid giving his neck a concerned look at the audible pop she heard from across the table, “Why?” He looked Yuu over in bewilderment, standing up and rushing  to them, “WHY ARE YOU HERE!?”

“Well, I'm in this room to get some pain relief. But, I’m in the building to go to school? That thing you guys really want me to do? To get an education or something?”

“WHY-” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to calm himself down. He bends down and places a hand on Yuu’s free shoulder, pulling her closer to speak softly, “My sweet puppy. My little mongrel. My mini menace…Why are you coming to school when you are actively bleeding from your vagina?”

“Because I’m not a little bitch?”

“You wanna repeat that?”

“Okay, okay!” Ingrid stood from her seat, gathering up the designs and fabric swatches she and Crewel were going over and quickly getting between the ‘father-daughter’ duo, “You two hotheads can cool down. Crewel, she’s here and willing to stay for classes. Now, as teachers, we’re not going to try to dissuade a student from attending classes now are we?” 

Ignoring Crewel’s grumbled response, the redheaded woman turns to Yuu. Her smile turning strained as she gets a good look at the first-year student. A part of her filing away the cutting remark of ‘hit by a truck chic’. But she keeps smiling, tilting her head in a questioning manner, “Yuu, are you…sure…you wanna go to class?”

Yuu sighed, taking one arm from supporting Grim to pinch at her nose. Copying the pose Crewel had just done only moments ago.

 Ingrid tried to keep her coo to herself. By the 7, she really behaved like a mini Crewel at times.

“Ms. Oster. I'm fine. This is totally normal, it'd actually be weirder if I didn't go to school. Unless I'm like…dying, there's no reason for me to not deal with my daily burdens while on my period. I just need a painkiller and I'll be good for the day or at least until lunch.”

Ingrid looks from the corner of her eye, taking in Crewel’s upset face before the bicolor-haired man scoffs. He rolls his eyes and turns on his heel, red bottom lace up loafers clicking against the floor.

“I swear, you were born to a damned dystopia. No one should be leaving their home, let alone their bed when bleeding like this!” He threw open the doors of a medicine cabinet roughly, fully stocked with all sorts of pain relievers though most of them were formulated for headaches. Being a teacher was hard enough, being a teacher at Night Raven College was a gauntlet.

Yuu shrugged, managing to catch the potion Crewel had flung at them. They were sure if they hadn't the teacher would have used their ‘decreased hand-eye coordination’ as a reason they shouldn't be in school. Uncorking the bottle, they gulped it down. While the pain was easing, none of the other symptoms did. They still felt awful, bloated, and as the fizzy thick syrup settled in their stomach, nauseous. 

Hearing the small groan Yuu made, Crewel clicked his tongue, “Puppy, I'm serious. Go back to bed, you're not well.” His stern tone dipped into worry on his last word, expression changed from angry to concerned as he walked closer to them.

Yuu waves not only him but Ingrid off, breathing evenly to get their body back in check, “I'll be fine…period never stopped me before, no reason for it to stop me now…” they sighed, letting Ingrid press a hand to their forehead briefly.

“...” Ingrid hummed, pulling her hand away to instead pick and straighten Yuu's uniform, “They don't have a fever…and they did manage to walk all the way up here. She might be okay to stay, Crewel…”

“Ha!” Yuu smiled at Crewel, “Get outvoted, bitch.”

“You wanna stay for classes!? Fine!?” Crewel slapped his crop in his hand out of frustration, growling under his breath before waving the crop as he walked, “Well then hurry up, puppy. Follow me to class. You're lucky it's a joint class day. Homeroom and potions will just be lectures.”

Even though Grim groaned in their arms, complaining about how boring just sitting was going to be, Yuu was pleased, “Perfect. I don't have the beans to actually measure shit out right now.”

“Amazing. It sounds like you shouldn't have come to classes.”

Ingrid chuckles, waving the two away as they leave the room, still nipping comments at each other in annoyance. Once she was sure they were gone, she whipped out her phone. Typing furiously into the teachers' chat room. If Yuu was going to be on campus, she needed to make sure Hui-Yan kept a certain someone in Diasomnia for as long as possible.

Yuu and Crewel walked into the room, the teacher lightly shoving Yuu toward their seat, “Sit. And if I see blood on the chair when you leave, I'm dragging you back to Ramshackle.”

Their response was to quickly flip Crewel off, rushing over to their seat when the teacher raised his crop in a threatening manner. Sitting down, they nod their head in a greeting to their friends before placing Grim on the tabletop, “Sup?”

Ace and Deuce were staring wide-eyed, each leaning on the table in an effort to get a clear view of them. The duo looked at each other, then both looked across the room to Jack and Epel. Jack carrying a pinched expression, the look of guilt just barely coming across as Epel ogled aghast. The purple-haired boy gestured as subtly as he could, not wanting to call attention to himself as Crewel started to write on the board.

Deuce cleared his throat, hesitantly nudging his arm against Yuu's, “Yuu…do you really wanna be here right now? With everything going on?”

“Do you wanna die, Deuce?”

“...” The spade card soldier shared a fearful glance with Ace before answering, “No…?”

“Yeah, but you're gonna do it one day anyway. That's how I'm doing right now, so don't talk to me.”

Ace winches, tilting his head in confusion, “ If you don't feel well why didn't you just stay home?”

“Ace, I don't…wanna speak. I don't feel good. Just leave me alone and we can all get through today with our bones.”

The Heartslabyul duo clearly wanted to say something else, hoping to wear down their friend into going home. But the resting bitch face was stronger than normal, and neither wanted to test if Yuu was willing to actually attack them during class. So instead they sat quietly, taking their time to send messages with the other first years across the room.

Throughout the class, Yuu's glare only got worse. A headache almost forming from just how strained their facial muscles were. Crewel snapping his crop more than normal wasn't helping either. The professor kept dead stopping in his lecture to demand the attention of the class. Yuu didn't hear anything that would normally call his ire. Sparing a glance around the room, they noticed a few beastmen quickly look away from their eyes.

Yuu managed to make eye contact with one, the canine beastman jumping up from his seat, seeming to ready himself to vault over the table.

“SIT DOWN!” The crop hit Crewel’s desk so hard Yuu was afraid that the poor wand would just snap in half at some point.

The yell was enough to send the beastman crashing back into his seat. The Ignihyde student blushing furiously as he tried to curl away from the view of his classmates.

The class settled into an uncomfortable silence, Crewel grumbling before he turned back around to aggressively write on the chalkboard, the chalk squeaking harshly with each swipe.

Yuu sighs, gathering an already snoozing Grim into their arms and using him as a mock pillow. Laying their head down, they closed their eyes and welcomed the half nap that quickly took them over.

If coming to classes was a ‘bad idea’, going PE was a horrible, shitty idea. Yuu had only gotten into their uniform by the grace of the Seven and however many other icons decided to help. The fact they'd need to change again after class only made their stomach churn.

By the time they walked out to the field, they were the last one to line up. Jack sends them a glance but straightens up as their teachers call for their attention.

Vargas boomed out a laugh, “Now that you’re all here, let’s get those muscles primed and trained! Let’s do some quick stretches then you’ll pick which training to do today. Either endurance training with me or strength training with Professor Dubhghall.”

Iomhar Dubhghall was a tall, quiet man. From afar he looked like an average person, but standing closer, you saw just how large the man was, broad-shouldered and long-limbed. While he did teach physical education like Vargas, he spent most of his time focusing on a sparring-centered class that was only open to the 3rd-years. Yuu had met him only a handful of times, delivering staff handouts in Crowley's place was the only real way their paths crossed. He rarely spoke but Yuu had the impression he was pleased enough with her. He had once called her back during a delivery to teach her a few moves on a practice dummy before sending her on her way.

Yuu didn’t mind the other gym teacher, she kind of preferred his quiet judgment over Vargas’ bombastic demands to ‘build muscle’. Overall, a more balanced teacher.

Sadly, neither PE activity was high on their list to do. They groaned and grumbled through the stretches, Jack muttering back to them that the stretches were almost over, to hold on for just a bit longer. Touching their toes made their stomach roll, having to swallow down what they feared really was vomit. Once the warm-ups were done, Yuu groaned, sitting down on the ground as the other students quickly divided themselves among the activities.

Epel tried to walk closer, a nervous expression on his face before he was called back from one side of the field. Someone obviously taunting him about not being brave enough to spar. The Pomefiore first-year growled, looking at Jack before the two of them nodded, Epel running after the student who mocked him. Instead of picking an activity, Jack stood vigilant beside their seated form, eyes scanning the crowd. Every now and again, he’d growl or increase his glare in a direction.

Ace and Deuce ran around the track, Grim hot on their ankles as they would look over every time they passed her. The Heartslabyul duo checking on her in their own way.

Vargas looks from the side, opening his mouth to call Yuu over, only to stop at a firm hand resting on his shoulder. Iomhar didn’t turn to face Vargas’ confused glance, only shaking his head. Vargas huffed, folding his arms but not calling out to Yuu, “I don’t see why she should be allowed to sit out…If she had the energy to come to class, she’s got the energy to build her muscle.”

Iomhar shook his head again, “Just because she had the will to get to the mountain doesn’t mean she has the might to climb it. Not today at least…”

“What does today have anything to do with it?”

“...” The other teacher looked at Vargas with an exasperated look, “Do you not check your phone?” 

Yuu sat silently, hands gripping and ripping into the grass in a method to distract themselves. Luckily, Jack kept his strange guard around her. The Savanaclaw student every now and again rushing around to grab and offer Yuu a cold water bottle that she would only accept half the time. Mid swallow, a familiar Heartslabyul student walked closer, ears pinned back as Jack growled at the cat beastmen.

“Jack…Calm down.” Yuu titled their head at the Heartslabyul beastman, questioning glare just a bit fiercer than necessary, “What do you want?”

“...” The cat beastman suddenly got nervous, shuffling his feet and looking down before breathing out, “We made you something…Come see?”

“...I guess?” Yuu groans, standing to their feet and sighing, “What’s this thing?”

The student perks up, gesturing behind him to the bleachers, “It’s under there! Me and some others worked hard on it so it’d be extra comfortable for you.” A beat of silence passes before the beastman steps closer, “Do you need me to carry you?”

Fuck no? That was what Yuu was going to say. Instead, they had to force down a gag as they felt themselves being scooped up and jostled into large firm arms. Once the nausea faded they realized they were in Jack’s arms. Their Savanaclaw friend glaring daggers at the shorter student.

“I’ll carry them. Just lead the way…” Jack looks at their bewildered face, ears pinning back in embarrassment, “Sorry…Should've asked…”

“You shouldn’t have in the first place.”

Jack hummed in what had better be agreement, following the jittery Heartslabyul student behind the bleachers. When they arrived, Yuu still wasn’t sure what they were supposed to be looking at. On the ground, protected from the dirt by a tarp, was a pile of fabrics. It looked like a mess of school uniforms all piled together and formed to give it a side so that someone could lay lounge style. Looking longer. Yuu noticed a few pieces of clothing that belonged to her friends. Epel’s ruffled dress shirt, Ace’s tie with a playing card tucked into the back folds, and what seemed to be Deuce’s track hoodie.

Silence passed, until Yuu spoke up, “What the fuck am I looking at?”

The group all deflates, turning to start whispering to each other. ‘They don’t like it.’ ‘I told you we should have put food nearby!’. ‘We didn’t get enough of their friends' stuff…’

“No, don’t ignore me, tell me what the fuck I’m looking at!”

Jack huffed but didn’t demand an answer either. Readjusting them in his arms before turning away with a mutter of, “Pitiful…” Exiting the bleachers as the group of beastmen start to mobilize again.

“I’ll go grab snacks!” “You! Go grab some blankets and pillows from your dorm!”

“How did I not think of it!? Pomefiore is a haven of proper materials!”

Yuu scowled, upset from still being unanswered, “Jack. What in the green eyes of the thorn fairy was that bullshit?”

Jack glanced away, ears pinning back as a conflicted expression crossed his face, “...” He opened his mouth.

“Jack. If you tell me something along the lines of, ‘I smell like a lady’ again…something…will happen to both of us…”

And his mouth snapped shut, the clinking of his teeth being the only noise he made. Reaching back to their plot of free space, Jack moves to place Yuu back on the ground.

“No.”

“Alright…” Jack stood up straight, keeping Yuu in his arms. Eyes scanning the surrounding area for various “dangers”.

From the side, Vargas looked up from his phone and groaned, “Iomhar, look at this! They’re not even sitting anymore! Howl’s carrying them around. I’ve had plenty of muscle cramps in my life, this can’t be as bad as everyone is claiming it is.”

Iomhar again shook his head, “Yuu’s already primed to fight anyone they please. It’s even more so now and I don’t believe any fondness they hold will keep them from actually trying to hurt someone…So if they attack you, I’m not pulling them off of your neck.”

“Phhht. I doubt they’d be able to reach my gloriously robust neck. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of fighting Little Ramshackle?”

“I don’t fight children, Vargas. I at most spar with them, and at least, train them.”

“Oh, and I assume flipping the Schoenheit boy three times in one match was sparring.”

“It was. It was in the ring and everything.”

Yuu glared at her friends, Grim held firmly in her arms, “Literally…All of you?”

Epel smiled, a bead of sweat just barely rolling down his temple as he tried to steady a clearly distressed Sebek who was clawing at the hallway wall in a bent-over position, “Sorry…Sebek’s really not feeling well. Ace, Deuce, and Jack are helping me since Diasomnia gives me the creeps. We’ll try to be back by lunch! To keep you company!”

Yuu shook her head, walking past the group of nervous boys, “Don’t worry about it. Take little bitch boy Sebek back to Diasomnia. I’ll…take notes or something I don’t know…”

Deuce spoke up, nervously rubbing the back of his head, “Do you…wanna come with us-”

“NO!” Sebek jumps up from his huddled position, the panic clear in his expression as though Deuce just suggested they all go line up to punch Malleus in the face. He realized his outburst, turning to Yuu with a fearful expression, “Uh…I mean…Please don’t come to Diasomnia.”

“...” Yuu blinked before shaking her head and walking into Trien’s room. Whatever was going on today with everyone was something she did not have the bones nor spoons to try to figure out.

The potion had started to fade, already feeling the tightening pressure doing nothing to help their rolling empty stomach. Their mood had also not gotten any better. For the rest of gym class, the same beastmen students had continuously called Jack to carry them back behind the bleachers and show off increasingly elaborate piles of fabric. They still refused to just tell them what the fuck the mess was supposed to be, only growing more determined to ‘get it right’. But when they had failed by the end of the class, they had actually apologized to them profusely and wished them luck before rushing off to their own classes.

So, by Night Raven boy standards, very fucking weird.

Yuu should have asked at least one of her friends to stay behind in class with them. One of them to act as a buffer against the wide-eyed stares of various first and second-year students who possibly hadn’t seen them yet today. She clicks her tongue, looking around the room and breathing a sigh of relief seeing Ruggie. The hyena beastman had a half-eaten donut shoved in his mouth, slowly chewing to make it disappear, and rifling through his beaten-up bag. And just her luck the seat next to him was empty.

They sat, letting Grim crawl out of their arms and getting comfortable, as much as they could with the cramps slowly returning and the feeling of a moist hand towel against their pussy, “Hey Ruggie.”

“Hey-Hold the fuck on…” Ruggie whips around, looking at them as though they were back from the dead. The hyena leaned closer to them, sniffling deeply before pulling back so hard he almost tipped out of his seat, “By the seven, are you okay!?”

Grim gave Yuu a nervous glance, waving a paw as he tried to warn Ruggie to calm down his concern, “Uh…Hey listen-”

“Ruggie, do you wanna be okay?”

“...” The Savanaclaw sophomore actually looked down, seeming to weigh his options before he looked up and nodded, “Yeah?”

“Okay, then I’m gonna need something from you.”

“Sure! What ya need? You want some water? I think I got a bottle left, hell just take the one I had too. You must be hungry, you’ve probably been working hard all day. Let me see if I got anything in here to eat-”

“Ruggie.” Once Yuu was certain they had his attention, they motioned him to lean closer again. He did, though he looked mildly reluctant to do so. Once he was close enough, Yuu gripped him by the collar and pulled him even closer to whisper, “I want you to shut the fuck up. Just…Just shut the fuck up for the whole class. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.”

“Less intensity.”

“Yeah, I can do that…Do you want the water though?”

“...” Yuu sighed. Maybe water would help their growing nausea, “Fine. And a sucker if you got it.”

Ruggie turned and searched through his bag, quickly pulling out a fresh water bottle and a handful of brightly colored suckers to dump on the table, “Here you go. Made them myself. The yellow ones are lemon; you like lemon right-”

“Ruggie.”

“Sorry.” The hyena raised his hands, scooting away as much as he could without pressing against the other student beside him.

The joint history class was passing by. That being the best way Yuu could describe it. Trein’s dry voice, while being the dullest kind of ASMR, was a calming effect to Yuu's thoughts. While it was history here, Yuu couldn't help but hear the lecture as a very detailed fairytale being read aloud in a fancy library. She could feel herself finally relaxing, stomach being only slightly appeased by the sweet-flavored lemon suckers.

If she had bothered to look around, Yuu would have noticed how the beastmen around her were finally calming too. The clearly distressed mood from the Ramshackle prefect doing more damage than she thought it would have.

But the peace was broken, just as Yuu crunched down on their second sucker, the cracking being more audible than they were expecting. But seeing how Trein didn't stop speaking or even turn to them, they grabbed another sucker and started to open it-

“Sensei? Is Ramshackle supposed to be eating?”

It was like time had frozen. Trein’s writing had stopped abruptly, the chalk in hand snapping off in his tightened grip. Every beastman nearly stopped breathing, turning to glare at the Scarabia student who had spoken up.

Ruggie turned to Yuu, opening his mouth to tell them to not mind the student, they could keep eating their sucker. Only to jump back as Yuu stood up, slamming their hands on the table.

Trein felt his face pinch, watching Yuu gather up the half-empty water bottle and numerous unopened suckers. He sighed as Yuu walked toward the small wastebasket by the door, “Yuu, you don’t need to-”

“No, it’s fine!” Yuu shrugged in an almost frantic motion, slamming the water bottle into the wastebasket hard enough the poor plastic bowl had nearly tipped over, “It’s fine. I just can’t fucking have anything!” They had moved onto the suckers, whipping each one into the basket with enough force that everyone was able to hear the candy being broken on impact, “It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine!” At the end, they simply threw all of the suckers into the trash.

The room remained silent, waiting in bated breath as Yuu stomped back to their seat, ignoring the concerned looks from Grim and Ruggie. Without saying anything, Ruggie slipped his hand into Yuu’s, holding it firmly as a form of silent support. They looked over, expression clear that they were not pleased, but didn’t pull their hand away.

Trein looked over his class. The beastmen not close to Yuu were spending their energy glaring at the student who had spoken up, those closer were trying to subtly pass items to Bucchi. Hidden juice packs, different candies, savory snacks. All things that were forbidden in his classroom besides a Pomefiore beastmen trying to hand over his gallon-sized personalized water bottle. He sighed. If he had the time to properly speak, he would have told the student to pay attention to the lesson and not his classmates sitting silently, minding their own business.

Sighing, he turned back to the board, grabbing a fresh piece of chalk, “Now…as I was saying…”

The lesson continued on, the air clearly tense as Yuu started to tap on their table in an increasingly aggressive manner.

 Trein turns to the class, “Can anyone tell me what was the tactic used in the battle against invaders of the East Kingdom?” Seeing no one raising their hand, he unfortunately fell back on muscle memory. Yuu had shown great promise in his class, excitedly asking questions about historical events and even reading text for the second or third-year classes on their own time. So it didn't occur to him that calling on them in their current state was not the right move to make, “Yuu? Would you care to enlighten the class?”

“...” Yuu stood from their seat, leaving behind a confused Grim and Ruggie, and walked out of the room. The door slamming hard behind them and rattling the surrounding frames.

…

Trein sighed, turning back to the chalkboard and continued writing, “Does anyone have the answer?”

The botanical gardens were always pleasant. Perfect temperature no matter the season, full of fresh smelling air. Even when the magical dome had its annual rainshower, Yuu wasn't above gathering their friends and sitting under a tree to chat in the sprinkle. Which is probably why the gardens were the first place their legs took them.

Just where he normally was, Leona laid down with his arms folded under his head in a relaxed pose. The third-year napping peacefully in his patch of overgrown grass. She sat beside Leona, moving to stretch her back as she did during gym.

Leona’s eyes snap open after a few beats of silence. He sat up on his elbows, looking at Yuu with wide eyes, “...” He tilted his head, eyes flickering to their lower body, “Are you okay?”

Yuu sat up, winding back their fist and punched Leona directly in the chest.

“AUH! You little-” Leona had pulled his hand back, fully prepared to backhand Yuu in retaliation before he paused. Taking in Yuu's face, he noted how pathetic they looked even though they were glaring at him. He groaned and clenched his hand tightly. Having to remember his key reasons for not just striking back the non-magical student at every sucker punch Yuu managed to land on him. ‘They were younger than him’. ‘They didn’t have magic’. ‘They knew better than to just hit him, so they clearly want him to do something’. He breathed in, putting his hand back down and raising an eyebrow at the angry scowl on Yuu’s face, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with everyone else!?” Yuu waved their arms around, as though Leona could see the examples all around them, “This whole fucking day, everyone’s been acting so weird! Jack was basically a fucking bodyguard for me during gym! Hell, Ruggie was almost trying to hand-feed me during history!”

Leona mumbled under his breath, realizing just how late in the day it had become, “Fuck, I overslept…”

“Plus, like, I think every beastman is acting like I’m about to explode if they don’t treat me like the most delicate little flower.” Yuu turned to Leona, confusion easily bleeding into their scowl, “Like, what the fuck is going on today!?”

“...” Leona points to between Yuu’s legs, nose wrinkling as he sniffles the air softly “What’s happening down there?”

“I’m on my period…”

“Yeah, because I clearly know what the hell that is, Feral.”

Yuu groans out, the force of it almost making them slump over before they snap back up, “I’m bleeding out my pussy. Don’t freak out, it’s normal for me,”

Leona brought his fingers to his temple, sighing, “Yeah, that’ll do it…”

“Do what!?”

“Send everyone into a fucking panic. You smell like you’re in active labor…” Leona suddenly looked at them from the corner of his eyes, “You aren’t, right? If that lizard actually knocked you up while you’re still in school-”

“I’m not pregnant! This is literally happening because I’m not pregnant!”

Leona leaned away, doing his best to not roll his eyes, “Okay. By the seven…I'm just saying if he did, you can sue him over that.”

“Leona, I'm not suing my boyfriend just because you've got some kinda one-sided blood feud with him.”

“One; it's not one-sided. Two; it's sound legal advice. You two had a binding agreement and if he broke it you have right to-”

“Words can not express how much I want you to shut the fuck up…”

Leaning back, Leona scoffed. Arms going back to their folded position as he reclined on the grass, eyes closing, “Fine. Get fucked over for all I care…” After a beat of silence, he sighs out, cracking an eye to look at Yuu, “What happened? You're supposed to be in history. You're a little goody for Trein normally.”

“...” Yuu sighs, taking the standing silent invitation and laying down beside Leona, hands folded over the growingly tense muscles of their pelvis, “It's just been…a lot today. I can normally handle my period just fine but…” 

The following silence quickly sombered their conversation. Leona gave Yuu his full attention, raising an eyebrow as a silent gesture for Yuu to continue. His concern almost showing on his face when they don’t respond to him, “Yuu-”

“YUU!?”

Leona’s ears press against his head at the yell echoing in the garden. He grumbles under his breath and sits up again, sniffing in the direction of the yell before calling out, “Stop making so much noise. We’re over here.”

Ruggie comes rushing around the corner, Grim just barely hanging onto him from his shoulder. In his arms were blankets and multiple kinds of snacks and drinks, “There you are! Are you ok? Ya hungry? I got some cold juice on the way over here. Leona, how's it looking? Are the contractions far apart still?”

… Yuu rolls over to fully press their face into the ground, frustrated screaming slowly growing in volume as they banged their fists against the grass. Ruggie had attempted to rush over, dropping the bundle in his arms only to be stopped by Leona’s outstretched hand.

“Calm down, she’s not pregnant. Just being a little bitch.”

“Wait, what?”

The screaming had died down, Ruggie and Leona speaking in quick mumbles to each other. Grim slipped off of Ruggie’s shoulder, cautiously nudging at Yuu’s prone arm.

“Hold on…this is normal?”

Leona shrugs, running a hand through his hair as he sighed, “I’m guessing from how pissed they’re being about people worrying over them…” His green eyes looked over Ruggie, noting his empty arms before he scowled, “And where’s my lunch?”

Ruggie rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue and picking at the collar of his too-big button-up, “Well, forgive me for being more worried about the potentially pregnant person about to pop out a baby to get you a damn sandwich…”

“That’s not an excuse to not do your job-”

Grim whined, pushing against Yuu’s arm even harder than before, “Yuuuuuu! Come on, henchman, I'm hungry! Don’t you wanna go get lunch-”

“NO!” Yuu snaps up, their yelling sending Grim rolling away from them and scrambling to hide behind an equally stunned Leona and Ruggie, “No! I wanna take a shit and die. Just fucking pass away from the mortal coil!”

“Yuu-”

“It shouldn’t be this fucking hard!” Yuu pulled themselves up from the ground, kneeling as they look at their hands, trying to find the answers to their boiling-over questions and concerns, “It’s normal! It’s fucking basic as fuck for me normally! Periods shouldn’t be this hard, things shouldn’t be this hard!”

Ruggie and Leona share a look with each other, the second-year trying to step closer, “Hey, bud, it’s okay-”

“IT’S NOT RUGGIE, AND THAT’S THE PROBLEM!” Yuu was almost shaking from the force of their welling emotions, “Everyone is acting like something’s wrong! And that has never happened to me past just ‘Oh fuck, your period started? You need a tampon?’ And that’s it! Like, I knew things were different here, obviously. But I don’t think about it, you know? But now I am because everyone is acting weird when it’s just my period, it's not a big deal! But it is a big deal here! A lot of shit is a big deal here. And I'm thinking about where I came from a lot now and holy shit, I'm never gonna see those people or places again. And I'm okay with that! But, oh my fucking God, I am craving comforts and shit that I'm never going to have again. And I'm spiraling thinking about the few things I do regret and how I'm never gonna be able to fix them, I won't even get to try! Does anyone even know I'm gone? Did anyone care? I'm in a place where I don't actually exist, bleeding out my pussy with basically no support, and I'm realizing I have never felt more alone.”

The only sound was Yuu’s harsh breathing, the magicless human trying to take deep breaths to calm her rolling stomach and fight against the tears threatening to spill. The three males all shared a look, having a silent conversation with a series of eyebrow raises and glares. In the end Leona sighed, leaning over to place a hand on Yuu’s shoulder.

“Oi…Feral…You okay?”

“...Yeah…” Yuu’s face pinches up, a single sound of struggle slipping out as she shook her head, “No…” Turning, she dry heaved into the grass.

“Oh, by the Seven…” Leona moved, reaching over and pulling Yuu’s hair back in time for them to let out a wet-sounding retch that finally brought up a bit of watery bile. He held their hair, silently directing Ruggie to wrap up the food items in one of the many blankets. He only looked back to Yuu once the vomiting had stopped, helping them to sit up, “Feel better now?”

Yuu looked at Leona, tears clear in their eyes and quickly losing the fight to not cry. They shake their head again, tilting it down as they whimper, “I wanna go home…”

“Alright…” Leona slips his arms around Yuu’s body, easily scooping the smaller into his hold and cradling them close, “You shoulda stayed home in the first place…”

“Shut up…”

Leona looks to Ruggie, using one of his hands to grip the makeshift bag of treats, “Watch the weasel, I'm taking them home.” He made his way out of the garden, calling over his shoulder, “And you better have my lunch by the time I’m back!”

Ruggie sighed, sharing a look with Grim before he gave a disgusted look to the puddle of vomit on the ground, “I should find a hose or something to clean this up…smells awful-”

“Uh…Ruggie?” Once Grim was sure he had the hyena’s attention he pointed a paw to the top of the greenhouse dome, noting the fast-rolling dark clouds, sparks of green lightning seen inside them, “Should we be worried about that…?”

“...Fuck…”

“Cozy?” Leona pulled away, making sure Yuu was completely covered by the blanket. The prefect was curled up on the couch, sniffling and getting themselves fully comfortable before nodding their head, “Good.” Leona pulled a basket closer, the snacks Ruggie had gathered filling it almost to the top as he offered a juice box to them.

Yuu took the box, the tops of their arms leaving the warmth of the blankets to open the drink. Sipping once from the tiny straw, before speaking, “Thank you…”

“Yeah, yeah. You owe me for this. Coming to school when you were basically sick and then throwing a tantrum like that…you know better, Feral.” but looking at Yuu's pitiful face, he felt his own frown soften. Kneeling down, he pets at Yuu's head, subtly checking for a fever, “...Are you gonna be alright alone?” he asked it so softly Yuu almost missed it.

They smile, sniffling and wiping at their eyes, “Yeah…I think I just need a good cry…if it gets bad, I'll call someone. Promise.”

He nods his head, standing up and walking to the doorway of the lounge, “On or off?” At Yuu's soft call of ‘off’, he flipped the light switch. With the room in darkness, Leona gave one last grunt of goodbye, walking away as he heard Yuu's silent crying turn to choked-back sobs.

Outside of Ramshackle, he noted the shift in weather. The clouds he had noticed on the walk in had completely taken over the sky, still rolling like the bubbles of an overheating potion. And as he stepped onto the path leading away from the building, he saw a growing spark of green lightning. The lights crackling and seeming to follow the path of something, or rather someone walking in the direction to Ramshackle.

Leona sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking forward. Seems like he'd have to be the one to talk to Malleus…

[cyncerity]

not to be a bother but-

will there be a part two to the t!revivebur and g!tommy story or would you like to just leave it at that?

:)

Now I wanna make this a whole au how does this keep happening-

tw: vore, hard vore mention (doesn’t happen), and angst

Also credit to my friends Calli and Bio Anon who helped me out a lot with writing this!! (most of the good ideas came from them lmao)

Wilbur woke up to the walls around him still, the steady breath of the lungs not far above him indicating that Tommy was still sound asleep, and he was still tucked away in the teen’s gut. The realization of that very fact hit him harder now that he was fully awake. He supposed he had the right to be a little tired yesterday. After all, he was now mere inches tall, and far more insignificant in the grand scheme of things compared to how he was before his death. He had only agreed to stay here because Tommy had been to tired to argue with. But now that he was awake, he wanted out, not giving a damn if it was day or night outside his flesh prison.

Wilbur began to pound on the smooth, sponge-like walls that surrounded him in an attempt to wake up Tommy, which after a few minutes began to work as he felt the teen grumble and sit up, shifting Wilbur in the process. The now-tiny felt something press into the stomach from the outside, collapsing the already small organ into him further. “Hello…?” Tommy asked, apparently completely forgetting about the previous night (night? Wilbur couldn’t be sure), apparently.

“You prick, it’s Wil, get me out of here, you said you would, remember?” Wilbur shouted. There was a surrounding silence for a few moments before Tommy stuttered an answer. “I- I thought you didn’t like to be called Wil…?”

‘Why wouldn’t I like to be called Wil, that my nam- oh.’ Wilbur thought. Tommy had mistaken him for “Ghostbur” the previous night. Somehow, this only managed to piss off Wilbur further.

“Maybe ‘Ghostbur’ or whoever didn’t, but fuck him cause I’m here now. It’s me, Wil, actual Wil, so let me out. I don’t give a damn if innocent little ghost me liked it in here cause I don’t, so get me out of here like you said you would you fucking dickhead child.”

Tommy gave no response, or any indication that he even heard Wil. He sighed in annoyance at the silence as he started to shove at the walls again, repeatedly shouting for Tommy to let him out.

*****

Tommy couldn’t decide if he wanted to throw up or keep Wilbur exactly where he was. On one hand, he couldn’t stand to think that his older brother figure, his now alive older brother figure, was stuck inside him. Inside him where he had only ever trusted Ghostbur to go, because it (for some reason) comforted the small ghost as much as it comforted Tommy. But on the other hand, if Wilbur really hated it as much as he claimed he did, Tommy wanted to keep him there as long as possible as an uncharacteristic sort of vengeance towards the man for taking Ghostbur from him.

Tommy had relished being able to keep Ghostbur safe. To help him like he had failed to help Wilbur. But now, he was being reminded by every kick, punch, and shout that came from his stomach that the comfort Ghostbur gave him was gone, and was never coming back. The thought alone made him want to do the unthinkable by his own means. I mean, how hard would it be to get rid of Wilbur from where he was? That would give him Ghostbur back…right?

Tommy let out a shaky sigh as tears began to fall from his eyes. He couldn’t do it. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t do it. Not in a place Ghostbur felt so safe in. Even if it did give him the ghost back, Tommy was sure that Ghostbur would never be able to forgive him for something like that. Hell, Tommy would never even be able to forgive himself.

A particularly loud yell came from the man the man in his belly, snapping Tommy back into reality. Wilbur seemed to be having a tantrum inside his stomach, as the tiny’s voice had become considerably more hoarse and Tommys gut hurt considerably worse in the time he had taken to zone off in his thoughts. All Wilbur was screaming about was vague threats towards Tommy and a considerable amount of gaslighting, too. Well, that made Tommy’s decision a bit easier.

The teen let out a small laugh through his tears, making Wilbur stop momentarily. “What the fuck?!” The tiny screamed. “Why the hell are you laughing?! Let. Me. Out!”

“What makes you think you’re in control right now?” Tommy stated in a mockingly monotone voice that contradicted the amount of crying Tommy had just done. Wilbur felt chills run down his spine as he went to answer, “What do y-“

“You’re the one stuck inside me. You’re in no place to be making threats. Do you know how easily I could kill you right now?” Tommy interrupted. He could practically feel Wilbur tense up in his stomach. “Y-you wouldn’t…”

“But I would, considering getting rid of you would give me Ghostbur back.” Sure Tommy had decided that he wasn’t that heartless, but Wilbur didn’t need to know that. And the tiny sure as hell believed it, considering he could now feel Wil shaking in his core.

“So if I were you, I’d behave, cause you’re gonna be in there for a while. Or at least, until I believe that you’re trustworthy enough to be let out.” Tommy continued, getting out of bed and getting ready for the day.

“Y- You can’t, You won’t get away with it! Someone will find out! I- I’ll scream! I’ll scream until your ears fucking bleed!!” Wilbur screeched as he writhed around in the stomach.

“I’ll ignore it, I’m sure you’ll lose your voice before my ears start to bleed.” Tommy scoffed. “And besides, even if someone did find out, who’d help you? No one wanted to back anyways. If anything, I’m doing the server a favor.”

Tommy felt Wilbur slump back against the stomach wall, stunned into silence, as he snickered to himself. He had the man who had caused him so much misery trapped where only he could get to him.

This was going to be fun.

[nessinborderland]

Be Mine (04)

Pairing: Niragi x Reader / Chishiya x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Omegaverse

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You were able to stay unbounded throughout your life. You didn’t want an Alpha; you didn’t need one. You would rather die than to give yourself to some random male. But the man that saved your life thinks differently.

Warnings: Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger fucking, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Drama, Developing Relationship, Past Abuse, Scars, Death, Blood and Gore, Animal Death

Notes: Okay so, not much to say about this chapter. You'll find out why :) Please mind the new tags :) we don't want anyone getting triggered here. Fun fact: every time I write "x growled" I imagine Perry the platypus from Phineas and Ferb doing his signature growl lmao. Cracks me up every time :D

AO3 Link        Masterlist

Game, “Akazukin: Red Riding Hood.”

Everyone’s eyes are locked on the screen.

“Red Riding Hood has to run from the Big Bad Wolf while being protected by the Huntsman,” starts the robotic voice. “One person will be Red Riding Hood, while the others will be divided into two groups: the Big Bad Wolf and the Huntsman.”

“What the- “

“Clear conditions,” the voice continues, “Whoever manages to bring Red Riding Hood to the final checkpoint, wins. The time limit is thirty minutes. After thirty minutes, the losing group dies. If after thirty minutes no one is in possession of Red Riding Hood, both groups die. Is instant Game Over if Red Riding Hood dies or refuses to follow the rules.”

You were terrified of this tale as a child; you had nightmares of an actual wolf coming in the night and devouring you and your mom. Then you had grown up and realized how the tale could be interpreted as a warning to Omegas when it comes to Alphas and their manipulative nature. That hadn’t changed your opinion on the story.

The screen changes to white.

“Now for the groups,” says the voice once again, “Red Riding Hood- “

You gasp; it’s you. It’s a picture of you. You’re Red Riding Hood.

“Big Bad Wolf- “

Your eyes go wide again; Niragi and Chishiya.

“How unoriginal of them,” you hear Chishiya remark with a huff.

“The Huntsman-” and it shows the faces of everybody else in the game. There’s a pregnant pause where everyone just stares down at their phones as it dings.

“Rules,” reads the voice, “No outside weapons allowed. There are axes, as well as other useful weapons hidden throughout the area that are only to be used by the Huntsman. The Big Bad Wolf is not allowed to use any weapons besides the ones already in their possession.”

“What weapons?” you ask no one in specific as you look at Chishiya and Niragi.

They both raise their hands as Chishiya simply replies, “Claws.”

You make a surprised sound, “How are you supposed to protect yourselves like that!?”

They both look at you, and this time is Niragi that says, “I don’t know about this dog but I can do a lot with these.” You don’t fail to notice the threat in his voice as he looks down at Chishiya. The other man just huffs out a laugh.

“The game will commence in five minutes,” says the voice in a cheery tone, “Use that time wisely.”

A commotion erupts as everyone starts realizing what the game consists of. You can’t believe it yourself; you’re nothing more than a pawn in this game. Shouts of “We have to fight two Alphas to death?” and “We can do this, there’s a lot of us.” start all around you. Someone is crying. Some people just run into the dark. You ignore the loud voices around you and focus on your phone as it lights up.

If you stop running or hiding, it’s game over. If you show yourself to the Wolf, it’s game over. If you try to cheat in any way, game over. 

A hand on your shoulder makes you jump. Niragi is looking at you with that expression you hate; betrayal and pain. But now there's also serious determination.

"No matter what you do, you can't stop running," he says. "This seems way too easy for a Ten of Spades, so watch your back."

"What about you?" you ask, eager to cover his hand with yours.

"Oh, so now you worry about me?" he retorts with a bite to his words. You can't help but flinch when his hand drops to his side and his expression changes to a mean smirk. "I'll live so I can kill that motherfucker and make you regret the moment you fucked him." 

"Niragi I- " 

"Save it," he turns your back to you. "I don't wanna hear it." 

You see him walk away, approaching the two other militants that came with him. At least the imminent game made him pause his murder attempt. You take a glance at Chishiya, who is still focused on the screen. You wonder what is going through his head; if you know something about Chishiya is that he always catches details others don’t.

"You!" someone pushes you in the back, and you fall to your knees before you can balance yourself "Who the hell are you?”

Two different growls sound at the same time someone lunges themselves to whoever pushed you. You look up to see Chishiya in front of you in a protective stance. You take the hand he offers you and stand up to see Niragi, currently on the ground punching a man.

“Niragi stop!” you scream. He either ignores you or doesn’t hear you. No one else tries to stop it either; Chishiya simply because he doesn’t care, and everyone else out of fear. The man being beaten tries to fight back but is clearly at a disadvantage. You gasp when you see Niragi’s fingers take the shape of claws. You jump, grabbing his arm before he can slice the man right in the face. “Stop!”

Niragi looks back at you with yellow eyes, and you see as his hand takes a human form again. You pull him out of the crying and bleeding man on the ground. He doesn’t make any effort to stop you. His eyes are locked on you, still animal-like.

“You- you’re part of the game, aren’t you!?” coughs the man Niragi had punched. He sits down holding his nose, quickly dragging himself away from the other man. “You- you have to be!”

“E- Excuse me? you shakily ask in a confused tone. 

“You’re not even a player, you’re just part of the game!” the man continues, “Are you gonna tell me that is a coincidence that this game is the way it is?! All you have to do is follow some rules! You live either way!”

You shake your head, “I- I am not sure what you’re implying, but I have nothing to do with this!" you reply. You confess that yes, you think it’s a big coincidence you got the role you got, but you’re not involved. You had no idea.

The man takes a step in your direction, but Niragi puts himself in the way.

“Watch it,” he says in a commanding tone. “Remember who you’re talking to.” The man holds his stare for a moment, before looking down and taking a step back. Niragi turns to the rest of the group. “Whatever you shitheads are thinking, she’s not involved in any of this. So, unless you wanna die before the game even begins, I advise you to shut up and focus on the game.” The corner of his lips pull up in a smirk, and you see the glint of fangs. “May the best wolf win.”

He then turns to you and your eyes lock. You want to talk to him, explain how and why things happened the way they happened. But you can’t say anything, not when he steps closer with a look in his eyes you can’t quite place.

“You’re wasting time, go!” Niragi orders as he pushes you forward. You stumble a little as you start walking into the dark park. You look back at him and Chishiya, and you nod to each other; they will be able to find you. You’ll be alright. They will be alright.

You bolt into the night. You can barely see anything in the dark, except for the shadows that the moonlight helps casting. You just know you have to run, or you’re dead; they’re dead. The conversation from moments ago keeps playing in your head; could it be possible that this game was made specifically for you? But how would they know that the three of you would be in the same game? It sounded so far fetched; but also...possible.

Hunting horns blast through the air, making you jump and cover your ears at the awful sound. You know what it means.

Game Start.

You start hearing rustling and footsteps behind you as the other players soon follow in your steps; if to catch you or find a weapon, that you don't know. You keep running until you’re out of breath, stopping for just a few seconds behind a large tree. Your legs are shaking and your lungs are burning. The area around you is silent though, and that gives you some peace of mind. You close your eyes and sniff the air. Nothing. 

You’re about to start running again to look for an actual hiding place when a sound makes you freeze in your tracks.

A howl.

And not from a regular wolf. You recognize it instantly.

Never in your life had you heard a werewolf howl until now. After the war, an Alpha fully transforming very rarely happened. The ones that did only transformed in extreme situations, usually to protect a loved one. The regular individual would not transform not even once in his lifetime. And here you are, hearing two of them. It awakes something primitive in you, and every single hair on your body stands up in a shiver. You have an impulse to howl too, but control it at the last second; you’re not doing that. You’re not an animal, as much as the wolf inside you likes to prove you wrong.

You’re startled when a hand covers your mouth, something cold pressing against your neck. You try to move, but the blade nibs at your skin. So you stop, trying to control your breathing.

“Don’t you dare to make a sound.” whispers a male voice. “I’ll chop a finger for every sound you make.”

You give a trembling nod, letting yourself be dragged by the unknown man. He’s way taller and stronger than you, so you don’t even try to fight back. You notice he’s not alone. What seems to be two young girls walk behind you, whispering in agitated voices. 

“Kai, are you sure the checkpoint is this way?” asks one of the girls in a low tone.

The man grabbing you, Kai, shushes her and stops. You can hear him sniff the air, probably looking for signs of an Alpha close by. He suddenly pushes you against a nearby tree and locks eyes with you. You’re surprised to see that Kai is not much older than a highschool boy.

“Mira, press this against her neck,” he whispers to one of the girls. She approaches you, trembling hands holding the small ax against your skin. The boy stabilizes her grip before nodding, “Don’t let her move or make a sound,” he says looking into the girl’s eyes. “If you do and those Alphas hear us, we all die.”

If you’re honest with yourself, you would stay quiet either way; the last thing you want is the blood of those kids in your hands. You watch as Kai takes a map from his pocket, opening it and analyzing it for a few moments.

“If this map can be trusted I’m pretty sure the checkpoint is this house right here,” he points at a place on the map and then ahead on the path, “About three kilometers that way. We can do this.” he checks his phone. “C’mon, we only have about twenty minutes.”

You have been walking for a short moment when the smell hits you.

One of them is close; Niragi, you’re pretty sure. The others smell him too, and you notice in the dark as their eyes widen in a panic and they start running, pulling you with them. You can hear him as he gets closer, like a monster in the night. You try to ignore the exhilarating feeling that goes through you at being chased by him; it’s just like the first time you met.

One of the girls trips and falls right behind you. You flinch at hearing her screaming get louder until it abruptly stops. The other two kids hesitate before Kai stops, pushing you and the other girl to keep running. The girl, Mira, grabs your hand as you both run, and you can hear her crying.

A far away whimper of pain makes you stop in your tracks; one of the Alphas was injured.

“We have to go, please!” begs Mira as she pulls your hand, “Please, we have to-”

Mira’s words are cut short when she falls and you’re pulled down with her. You gasp in pain as you hit the ground, arm stretched into whatever hole the girl fell into. You hear a scream, then silence, as you hear a sound you can’t quite place. It’s dark and you’re not sure of your surroundings, but you could swear that hole on the ground wasn’t there seconds ago.

You’re about to ask if she is okay when the metallic smell of blood hits your nostrils. You squint in the dark, trying to see something in the black hole. The moonlight appears out of nowhere, and you can finally see. You gag when you notice the contorted body of the girl, now impaled in wood spikes. Her eyes are wide, mouth open in a permanent scream.

There are traps.

There are traps everywhere and you can’t see them.

You drag yourself away from the hole, feeling a panic attack start to form as you struggle to get air inside your lungs. You try to shake the image of the dead girl from your mind, shakily rising to your feet. Your phone gives an alarming beep, and you take a look at the screen to realize you have been in the same place for too long. You have to keep moving.

You shake the tears from your eyes and walk by the hole without a second look. 

A scream far behind you snaps you out of your stupor, and you immediately take off running again. You don’t want to think about what might be happening. Despite their numbers, you can’t imagine how Betas can ever win against two fully transformed Alphas.

You’re running through an open field now, surrounded by flowers that you can barely see. A noise to your left makes you look at the line of trees, but you can’t find the source of the sound. 

You’re so distracted that you don’t notice the open trap right in front of you.

You scream as the dented iron snaps around your ankle, pain sparking up your leg. You fall to the ground like a bag of potatoes, and immediately try to open the trap up. But you’re not strong enough, and the iron teeth just dig deeper into your skin. You control a sob as the pain and panic grow; you have to keep moving. You have to hide. A sound, now closer, makes you stop whimpering, and you hold your breath as you see them.

No, not Niragi and Chishiya.

No, not the Huntsman either.

Wolves. Real, wild, one hundred percent animal wolves. A pack of them. No more than twenty meters from you.

You stay still, hoping that they won’t take an interest in you.

But no. Of course that’s not what happens. 

You look around for something to defend yourself with, but you’re defenseless. Here you are, trapped, wounded, on the ground, and without any means of defending yourself. The wolves approach you slowly, like they know you have no means of escaping. They start surrounding you.

“Stay away!” you scream, shaking your arms in hope that the movement will scare them away. “Shoo!”

It does not.

One of the bigger wolves prepares himself to jump. You close your eyes with a sob, waiting for the moment they will tear you apart. 

He’s here.

You feel the air shift as a big dark form covers you. You’re now completely involved in his scent; cinnamon and wood. You keep your eyes closed and brace yourself. The air is filled with the sound of growls and whimpers and teeth ripping flesh. Something warm and wet splatters on you and you know it’s blood. A loud whimper of pain, a strange mix between a wolf and a human, makes you snap your eyes open.

In the moonlight, he’s huge. Terrifying. Beautiful. Bodies of wolves are on the ground. The survivors try to fight the much bigger werewolf. His fur is black as a raven’s feathers, thick and glossy and matted with blood. You can’t look away until he’s done.

Niragi is clearly tired and injured. Saliva drips from his open jaws as he takes labored breaths. He turns to you, and you notice one of his paws is practically mangled, a shine of white bone contrasting with the black fur. A big oozing laceration runs down one of his flanks, and you’re not sure if it was done by an axe or a wolf.

You snap out of your freezing state and make a move to go to him. You scream when the trap still around your ankle makes itself known. He’s on you in less than a second, hovering over you as his snout touches your leg lightly. You can’t resist the temptation to touch him, grabbing the fur of his neck and pressing your face against him.

You feel him when he suddenly changes back into a human, and your face is now pressed on his bare skin. You notice he’s naked, pale skin now almost fully covered in blood and dirt. A cut you haven’t noticed in his wolf form now clearly shows on his forehead, making blood run down his face like a waterfall.

“Niragi-” is all you manage to say. You want to cry, ask him if he’ll be okay. You panic again when you notice how much time you have left; probably not more than ten minutes. Niragi says nothing as he focuses on opening the trap with a grunt. You let out a cry of relief as the thing leaves your ankle. The wound bleeds profusely, so you take off your top, tying a makeshift bandage around the injury with the help of Niragi.

He finally looks you in the eyes as he helps you to your feet, supporting you against him.

“Y/N we-”

That’s all he manages to say.

The next moments happen so fast you can barely process it. 

An arrow comes flying out of nowhere, burying itself into Niragi’s chest. His eyes go wide as he looks at you, a surprised expression in his eyes. You watch him with an open mouth as his eyes turn to gold for a moment. Then he falls to the ground. Rough hands grab you and pull you. Someone is screaming; you realize later that it’s you. Other voices laugh and they sound...excited? Happy? You can’t understand why. You trash around in an effort to get free. Whoever grabbed you punches you right in the face. For a moment, all you see is black with sparks of white. You hear a faint, “We only have five minutes!”. No. Niragi and Chishiya have to find you. They promised. They can’t die. Then you’ll be alone again.

Someone screams again. Loud voices. People running all around you. You hit the ground with force enough to take the air out of your lungs. Someone tries to grab you again, but their grip disappears like they have been pulled away. Tears are streaming down your face, but you can’t open your eyes. You can’t stand up. You hear the familiar sound of a wolf growl.

Niragi? 

No; peppermint and rain. 

Then you feel something warm touching you. You feel soft fur under your skin. Then it’s like you’re flying. You grab onto whatever is moving under you out of instinct. You know you have to hold on tight. You try to focus, but it’s too much. 

Then nothing. Darkness. You’re not sure if you lost consciousness or not. A loud sound, similar to a siren, is what makes you open your eyes. You’re on the ground, stone cold under you as you try to sit up, covering your eyes from the sudden bright lights. 

A cheery tone comes from your pocket. You stare at the phone; Game clear.

You finally look around, and there he is.

A big white wolf. 

Not as big as Niragi, but still impressive. His white fur is covered in blood; if his or someone else’s, you can’t say. Your vision turves as you try to stand up and lose your balance. He catches you before you can fall, teeth gently grabbing your jacket. You stare at him in confusion; what the hell just happened? A spark of pain makes you look down at your ankle. Memories come rushing back.

You gasp. No. It can’t be.

“Chishiya, where’s Niragi?” you ask in a trembling voice. His cold eyes stare at you for a moment too long. You’re about to make a move to find Niragi yourself when the white wolf changes right in front of you. Like Niragi, the man is naked and mostly covered in blood. There’s a cut on his arm, still bleeding. A wave of concern runs over you, and you feel yourself panic even more. He sighs before his eyes lock on you.

“He’s dead.”

Next Chapter

[honey-dewey]

Somewhere That’s Green

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels/Reader

Word Count: 3,220

Warnings: None

Jack’s always known his girlfriend was big in musical theater. He’s heard her practice, listened to her sing, and driven her to the theater more than once. But this is his first show of hers, and boy is he in for a shock. Between the on-stage kissing and the death of his girlfriend’s character, Jack Daniels has never been so invested in musical theater. 

“And you’re sure you’re okay with missing work?” You asked, picking up your coat from Jack’s coat hook. “It’s a long show.” 

Jack smiled, grabbing your waist and pulling you close to him. “Darlin’ I wouldn’t miss this show for anything. I’ve been waiting two months to see this play.” 

You grinned, kissing him slowly, almost teasing. “Just promise not to murder my costars, okay?” 

“And just why would I be murdering your coworkers?” Jack asked, keeping his arm around your waist as he walked you out to the parking lot. 

Stepping into the parking lot and following the familiar trail to Jack’s car, you took a breath. “The show gets kinda dark. My character is abused by her sadistic boyfriend.”

“Oh.” You could hear Jack’s jaw tightening, hesitation filling your chest as you thought over inviting him to the show. Again. 

“Babe,” you said softly, trying to console him. “If you want, I can introduce you to my co-star Alex who plays the character. He’s a sweetheart, I promise. Wouldn’t hurt a fly and y’know how Stevie is my best friend? Well, Alex is like the cool big brother I never had. He’d never even think about touching me. And he knows I’m totally off limits. Stevie does too.” 

“Stevie’s the one who’s playing your nice fictional boyfriend?” Jack asked, opening the Bronco’s door and helping you up. 

You laughed. “Yes. Stevie is the one who gets to kiss me on stage and his character isn’t a huge dick. Alex is my first fictional boyfriend, and Stevie and I get together halfway through the show. He gets to kiss me.” 

Jack’s eyes darkened behind his sunglasses. “Does Alex kiss you?” 

Reaching across the center console, you took Jack’s hand. “No. Alex does not get to kiss me.” 

As Jack drove to the theater, you mulled over this decision. Since dating Jack, you’d done three musicals, but this one was your biggest and proudest role, as you’d finally managed to get the female lead in a musical after countless ensemble roles and smaller name characters. 

“And what’s the show called again?” Jack asked, squeezing your hand. 

You smiled, lifting his hand and pressing lazy kisses into his knuckles. “Little Shop of Horrors.” 

Jack hummed, his face scrunching as he thought. “Ain’t that that movie with the crazed talking plant?” 

“It was adapted from a musical,” you explained. “And then they redid the movie in the early 2000’s and put it back on Broadway.” 

“Ah.” Jack turned to look at you as you pulled up to a red light. “I’m sure you’ll kill it. You got the voice of an angel.” 

You smiled to yourself, the fate of your character entirely unknown to Jack. “I know I’ll kill it.” 

Upon reaching the theater, you hopped out of the Bronco, looking at Jack. “Wanna meet Alex and Stevie? I think Yvette and Eva are here too, and I know for a fact Amber’s been here for an hour, at least.”

Jack shrugged. “Why not. I’ll go park, you go get your friends.” 

You eagerly headed into the theater, practically jogging around as you looked for your costars. 

“Eva!” You shouted happily, hugging Eva and seeing Amber around the corner. “Is Yvette here?” 

“Nah,” Eva said, gesturing to the empty dressing room she shared with Yvette and Amber. “You know she always gets here at the last damn minute.” 

“And she’s somehow always ready to go first,” Stevie said behind you, causing you to laugh and spin around to hug him. “Heya Auds!” He used the nickname he’d given you based on your character, causing you to punch him lightly. 

“I want y’all to meet someone,” you said, walking towards the entrance, where you knew Jack was waiting. “Jack’s finally coming to see the show.” 

“Ooooo,” Amber said, coming out of the costume closet. “We finally get to meet the mystery man!” 

You waved them off, looking around for your final costar. “Where’s Alex? He didn’t call in tonight, did he?” 

“Of course not,” Eva scoffed, drawing her coat closer around her. “He doesn’t call in unless he’s like, bleeding out.” 

Laughing, you pushed open the door, seeing Jack leaning against the Bronco. “Jack!” 

Jack drew closer, smiling and looking at your friends. “Alright. Who’s who?” 

You introduced everyone, the chatter flowing easily until someone came up behind you, lifting you off your feet with a happy growl. “There’s my girl!” 

“Alex!” You squealed, squirming and laughing. “Alex you absolute fuck! Put me down before Jack murders you!” 

Alex put you down, grinning and holding out a hand to a very shocked Jack. “So you’re the mystery man our darling has been swooning over for the past three years. Nice to meet you.” 

Jack shook his hand. “Their darling?” He asked you as you stood by his side. 

“That’s what they always call the female lead,” you explained, tucking yourself under Jack’s arm. “Alex, Jack has promised not to kill you upon seeing the show, which is a damn relief because I don’t think we can do next year’s show without you.” 

“What’s next year's show?” Jack asked, looking at you. 

You shrugged. “I heard from the director that they were seriously considering School of Rock.” 

Alex whistled. “Auds, that’s been a rumor for years now. They aren’t gonna do it.” 

“Okay Dewey,” you said jokingly, reaching out to give Alex a light punch. “You wanna talk about people who were born to play certain roles? Alex is a spitting image of Broadway’s Dewey Finn,” you explained to Jack, who had gotten very lost very fast. “We’re all just waiting.” 

“Oh, so you wanna talk about that, huh?” Stevie said, raising an eyebrow. “I swear that voice of yours is identical to Audrey’s.” 

You flushed, checking your watch and looking up. “An hour,” you explained, extracting yourself from under Jack’s arm and heading back to the theater’s entrance. “I’ll see you after babe!” 

Jack grabbed your hand, kissing you deeply and nipping ever so slightly at your earlobe as he murmured a teasing “break a leg darling,” into your ear. 

“I like him,” Alex said, coming up behind you and smiling. “He’s good for you.” 

You rolled your eyes, grabbing Alex’s white jacket out of the costume closet and handing it to him. “Go get dressed, dork. We can talk about my boyfriend later.” 

Alex shrugged. “Just saying. You have my blessing.” 

“I don’t need your blessing!” You called after him, seeing him disappear into his dressing room. “And where’s Jake?” 

“Where he always is!” 

You sighed, heading to your own dressing room and sitting down, beginning the long yet calming process of caking your face in stage makeup. It took forever and made your face feel heavy, but the results were worth it. 

Eventually, by the half hour call, you were ready, having pretty much cemented your hair into beautifully picturesque curls and shimmied into the tight cheetah print dress that barely covered the tops of your thighs. Thank god you were able to wear tights. 

You tossed a fluffy cream colored faux fur cropped jacket overtop your dress and adjusted your black heels. With your makeup and your sufficiently warmed up voice, you were entirely ready for the night. 

Picking up a picture frame, you gave the glossy photo of Jack a kiss, slipping a worn out penny he’d given you when he’d first heard you did theater into your bra. It was a symbol of luck, and the magic would hopefully continue into tonight. 

“Knock knock,” Alex said, knocking on your doorframe. “How’s the princess?” 

“Good,” you said, raising your voice to get the perfect breathy innocence that was needed for the role. “How much time?” 

Alex checked his watch. “Ten. I think the girls are on stage already, and Jake’s having his fun on the beams. Are you sure you’re ready?” 

“Just nervous,” you mumbled, fiddling with the sleeve of your jacket. “I dunno what Jack’ll think.” 

“Does he know the ending?”

“No.” 

Alex whistled in a breath. “Damn. Ten bucks says he cries.” 

You scoffed, slipping past Alex and smiling, your heels clicking on the worn out flooring. “Twenty!” 

The opening of the show, as was the rest of it by now, was a familiar chaos to you. The fanfare that signaled the beginning spurred you and Alex to your places, tucked just outside of view but still able to see the show. 

The ensemble and the girls rushed past, filling the stage and giving life to the purposefully worn down set. You craned yourself neck, heart swelling when you saw Jack, his hat off, sitting in the front row. 

“Front row, fifth seat in, stage left,” you whispered to Alex, who nodded, spotting your boyfriend as well. 

Stevie joined you at that moment, grinning as Alex told him where Jack was sitting. “He got a good seat, huh?” He said with a wink, sliding past you to take his place on stage. 

As the second song started up, you adjusted yourself, tugging on your dress and asking Alex for help with your mic. 

“Break a leg,” he said, watching you rush behind the set to the section that was your fake apartment. 

At the cue, you opened the door, slipping out and beginning to sing. It was easy to lose yourself in the role now that everyone else was singing too. Stevie came out, singing his part as you sat weaved in and out of the ensemble members, climbing up a ladder to a fire escape on one of the building fronts. Leaning on the railing, you sang along with Stevie, spotting Jack beyond the stage lights and grinning as you finished out the song. 

The next four songs went smoothly. You left the stage after the next one, when Stevie got his first solo song. Standing next to Alex, you checked your phone. 

Jack: You’re amazing doll. Love the dress.

You smiled, slipping your phone back into your pocket. Stevie was, as usual, doing great on stage. Everything was running perfectly. 

While the songs you weren’t really in ran in the background, you helped prepare the other sets. The apartment set you were about to use was ready to go by the time your first big song was about to start, and you walked back out on stage, reciting lines you’d memorized months ago. As the set turned, revealing the inside of the apartment, you began to sing. 

The song was a nice one. Maybe a bit of strain on your voice as you pitched it upwards, but otherwise easy to sing. You poured a certain mournfulness into it, taking your jacket off and hanging it on the coat hook. 

Every so often, you’d see Jack out of the corner of your eye, grinning like a lovesick fool at you. When the stage rotated again, showing you leaning out the small balcony, singing about your character’s dreams for a brighter future, you watched Jack carefully. His eyes never left you, winking when he realized you were watching him. 

The song ended, the audience clapping as you slipped out, grabbing your coat on the way. 

One quick change and bit of makeup adjusting later, you were cycling through another song. Nerves began to bundle in your stomach as the introduction of Alex’s character drew closer. You always drew a few gasps when he roughed you up, but it never made you this nervous. 

Thankfully, it was a short scene, as the focus shifted to the introduction. His touch was always professional and careful, never actually harming you. You slipped off stage as his character began his song, settling down on a beat up old couch and loosening your shoes. You didn’t have to be on stage for a while, so you half listened to Alex and half focused on checking your phone. No texts from Jack. 

“Hey hon.” Alex flopped onto the couch next to you, shocking you a bit. “C’mon.” 

You quickly tighten your shoes, standing and taking Alex’s hand as he tugged you towards the stage for another small scene that you knew would make Jack’s jaw clench. 

The scene was, yet again, not harmful. You moved in perfect tandem with Alex so neither of you got hurt, stumbling a bit as you walked off stage after only two minutes. 

“You okay?” Alex asked, steadying you and checking your wrists where he’d grabbed you. 

“Yep.” 

“Everything good up in here?” He asked, knocking gently on your temple. 

You smiled. “Haven’t been this nervous about a show in, gosh I don’t even know.” 

“You’re doing amazing,” Alex promised, pulling you into a hug. “I’m sure he’d love it even if it all went to shit.” 

You nodded, tightly hugging Alex back. “Yeah. He would.” 

You two got ready for your final scene together, the one where he ‘hit’ you. The slap had been practiced until it was instinct, until it was a guarantee Alex’s hand would never even touch your face. 

Watching the stage and slowly moving behind the set pieces, you bopped a bit to the song, looking up and seeing Jake having the absolute time of his life above your head, singing for the plant. 

“Ready?” Alex asked, squeezing your hand. 

You nodded, hearing the cue and starting your nervous babbling conversation with a shouting Alex, stumbling through the door and smiling at Stevie. “Hey Seymour! I left my sweater here before.” 

Immediately, Alex followed you, still shouting. You couldn’t see Jack’s reaction when he called you a slut, or when he slapped you, your pitiful voice breaking as you and Alex headed off stage.

As soon as you were out of sight, Alex hugged you, murmuring the apology he always gave after that scene and heading off to act his death. 

It was a favorite scene of yours, and you watched as Alex ‘died,’ unable to leave the scene until the lights went dark and he hurried off, Stevie taking a bag of fake limbs and grinning to you as the lights rose and he headed back out. 

During intermission, you left the couch, allowing the girls to collapse into the frankly disgusting crease. Instead, you curled up in the oddest place that shouldn’t have been comfortable, the antique dentist’s chair from Alex’s scenes. 

Which was where he found you, settled into the leather and adjusting your makeup. You were humming along to some music playing out your phone, carefully wiping away your black eye and touching up your foundation. “Good job. You absolutely murdered it.” 

Alex smiled. “Thank you. Still nervous?”

“Nah.” You closed your makeup bag, spinning the chair lazily. “No more than usual now.” 

You two just hung out, as usual, until the signaling music began to play. You shook yourself out, standing and smiling. “Halfway there!” 

Alex laughed and took your place, grabbing a book. 

You were significantly more involved in the second act, breezing through the first few songs, feeling an uncomfortable tingle of guilt in your stomach as you and Stevie kissed during the second song. It was an emotional scene that was immediately followed up by a murder. Not your murder. You weren’t set to die until later. 

Of course, your next big scene was your death. You ran over the process in your head, just in case. Stevie would throw you into the giant plant puppet, and you’d slide past Jordan, who was the puppeteer inside, and out through a hole so you didn’t have to sit inside the cramped puppet. 

However, you had to die first in probably the most heart wrenching scene in the play. 

You walked out as Stevie walked in, alone on the stage aside from the plant. Sitting on the couch in your fake apartment, you began to sing, wandering over to the florist’s shop set and talking to Jake, who was still sitting above your head. 

And then it all went to shit. 

Jordan, inside the puppet, grabbed you with a vine, tugging you close as the song finished out, and you fake struggled as he pretended to eat you, the voice and the body working in perfect tandem as you got deep enough and struggled enough to open a buttoned up tear in your dress, smearing fake blood all over and making it truly seem like you’d been bitten, all without the audience knowing. 

Stevie pulled you out, revealing the wound to the audience. He carefully set you down, going through the musical motions as you poured everything you had left into your final few minutes on stage. Your voice broke, the gentleness fading slowly as you did your best to imitate someone who was dying, actually starting to cry with your last line. 

When the music swelled, Stevie wiped your tears and lifted you, slowly and gently placing you in the plant puppet and allowing Jordan to grab you and pull you in, helping you down and out the other side. Immediately, Alex helped you up, handing you a change of clothes and a pack of wet wipes. It was easy to remove the blood and toss the stained dress into the wash as soon as it was off. By the time the last plot important song was over, you were completely ready for the finale. 

You were unable to spot Jack as you and Alex walked out together, singing one final time for the night and taking your bows. It was a giant group number, everyone happy and very much not dead. Jake came down, singing and throwing an arm over you and over Stevie, dragging you two forward to take the first bow. 

Amidst the clapping and the people leaving and the actors heading off stage, you didn’t see Jack until he met you and Alex at the Bronco. 

He scooped you up, laughing and firmly kissing you. “Holy shit babe! You couldn’t’ve told me that would happen at the end?” 

You laughed, wiping tears off Jack’s face. “Alex! He’s crying!” 

“Well fuck.” Alex leaned against the car, smiling. “Guess I owe you.” 

Jack put you down, still holding you tight. “Y’all did good. I almost got up to smack you halfway through the show.” 

You rolled your eyes, squeezing Jack’s hand. “I’m exhausted.” 

“Alright,” Jack said, opening the Bronco’s door and helping you up. “Pleasure to meet you Alex.” 

“Same,” Alex said, stepping back. “You be good to our girl, you hear?” 

Jack snorted. “I will.” 

The drive home was quiet. Now that the adrenaline of the show was gone, you felt limp, every part of your body in pain. Jack, the ever sweet and loving boyfriend, carried you inside, setting you down on the bathroom counter and grabbing your makeup wipes for you. 

“Anything else?” He asked once you were done, cuddled up in your favorite pyjamas. 

“Well,” you hummed, getting down and heading over to the bed. “I seem to be missing my boyfriend. C’mere.” 

Jack, now eager, took his shirt off and crawled into the bed next to you, pulling you close. “You were amazing tonight, truly.” 

“Thank you,” you murmured, already falling asleep. 

“You’re welcome.” Jack shuffled so you’d be more comfortable, stroking softly up and down your back as you fell asleep properly, safe with the knowledge that Jack’s first musical theater experience had been a good one.

[whump-town]

Heart Attack

This one goes out to whoever said “death. this is how i confess love”. 

I will write the other fic as well 

Warning: Major Character Death (rip my favorite big old idiot)

The initial weakness in his left arm is not noteworthy. The deep ache, daggers shooting from the inside of his wrist to the clavicle, are sadly not either. Chronic pain is just a part of his daily life and after the ugly, deep scars Foyet left on his forearms, not even simple movements are free. He’s always assumed Foyet put them, the long slashed scars that look nearly self-inflicted, there just for show, claiming him perhaps but certainly to maim. Doesn’t matter right much now, all he knows for certain is that it hurts and there’s nothing he can do about it.

It happens so frequently that it nearly slips his mind-- as much as pain can but what he really means is that the coffee in his hand slips. He’s standing in the kitchen, contemplating taking an Advil to at least dull the pain enough to better concentrate on the book he’s been trying to finish since Friday. “Fuck.” His left hand just releases the mug. He liked that mug. Advil it is.

His days pass in quiet contemplation. Just him and these beige walls. He misses the days that were filled by Jack’s toddling steps, rampant little footsteps, and happy squeals of delight. Coming home to the sound of some new band Jack’s conjured up and is going to torture him with for the next week until he moves on to the next. He misses Emily and Dave and having drinks on his couch. Being forced to go to Dave’s for family dinners and Emily coming by, uninvited, of course, to eat his ice cream and make fun of his documentaries.

Now he’s alone most of the time. Well, unless Jessica coming by to count to his pills counts. He doesn’t really think it should but she means well. Someone has to make sure he doesn’t just die on them but would they even notice?

Not immediately, not for a while.

Maybe if something strange happens on a case but those calls come less and less frequently. No one needs his specific knowledge. Emily is becoming an assured leader and she doesn’t even call him to fuss about the idiots that he hired and left her to deal with. He and Dave don’t really talk anymore. The best he gets, these days, is a quick update if someone gets hurt just so that he doesn’t worry if it pops up on the news.

Jack is off at college now. Hotch can’t blame him for being fairly radio silent but it does give him something to work with every few weeks when Jack does remember that he exists and sends a thousand-odd texts his way.

So, if he just… died no one would notice until Jessica’s Thursday visit. Even then, she’s just here to look at the pillbox he leaves on the counter for her easy access. She just checks what she has to and leaves. Life goes on.

As he’s crouched on his kitchen floor, mumbling very inappropriate and obscenity-ridden things, he feels that lightheaded fog encroach. Something that he really only knows from other encounters, one that he doesn’t associate with immediate danger. He takes a fist-full of medication each morning and roughly two list lightheadedness as a side-effect. While a dangerous fallout of Foyet’s stabbing is this strange platelet problem that messes with his iron. So while he sits for a moment and breathes through the feeling of his body trying to give out on him he assumes this problem is what it always is: his awful health.

He gets the coffee cleaned up with a towel but leaves the towel over the broken bits of the mug. The cartilage in his knees saw better days roughly twenty-years ago and by the time that the coffee has been contained, he can hardly stand the pain in them. So, guiding himself with a hand on the counter (then leaning on the wall and using a kitchen chair and so on and so forth until he gets to the couch) Hotch limps away from the kitchen.

He’s never been so thankful for his habitual manners as he sinks into the cozy couch and finds his heated blanket already plugged in and sitting on the lowest heat. A fire hazard? Yeah probably but if this damned blanket kills him one day then so be it. He finds some background noise in a nature documentary about penguins and closes his eyes, waiting for the blanket’s heat to soothe his old bones.

Despite how far he’s pushed himself down into the blanket, his body breaks out in a cold sweat. His chest tight and arm throbbing or maybe stabbing-- he can’t tell the difference right now just blinded by the pain. Blind and so stupid and as he sits up, shaking he’s shivering so hard, he knows what’s happening.

Haley used to dismiss his fears with soothing promises. She wouldn’t let something like this happen to him. They’d get old together “so old we start to wish one of us would just die and get it over with but every day I’ll turn over in our bed and find your craggy, old face right beside me and I know I’d still love you so much it hurts”. But Haley died before she even turned forty and he’s spent too many birthdays and anniversaries alone to know she couldn’t have meant that.

Drunk, vulnerable with the recent loss of Haley and the sudden return of Emily he’d admitted to this fear. Not just dying alone but of dying like his father-- a hated bastard on the outside with no family and no loved ones. To paint the wall with the horror in Dave and Emily’s face could stand as a solid reminder that he is loved but those faces mean nothing. The way that Emily had hugged him that night is nothing. Despite their assurances, he can feel his heart skipping beats. Painful kicks, each one.

He is alone. Gasping as he struggles to fight off his anxiety and crying through the agony ripping chest. Alone. Curled down into himself to try and find some comfort.

He manages to call 911. As he’s blinking tears from his eyelashes there’s a moment where the only number he can think of is Garcia. For years her number was his emergency number and now … He’s still thinking about her when the operator picks up but he’s losing his functions so fast. Settling back on the couch, using what’s left of his energy to tuck his feet back under his black he does his best to stay awake and hum in response to questions.

He thinks about Garcia. She’s always there, he finds, in his mind and every accident he’s had. Even during Boston despite the fact that she just joined the BAU. She’s always there and he wonders if she’ll appear this time. Talk his ear off about David Bowe but hold his hand tight enough that he never has to question if she’s really there.

Heart attacks hurt a lot worse than internal bleeding but he’d, personally, still put it under being actually stabbed.

He doesn’t hear the paramedics arrive or even feel the IV being placed in his arm. Though unconscious, he gives the faintest whimper of discontent as he’s lifted and pulled away from the couch. Not given the chance to brace for the cold winter air of March in Virginia just moving and moving fast.

“Agent Hotchner?”

He groans, turning his head from the penlight shining down in his face. Though he moves his face, he can’t escape the tight pressure across his ribs. Constricting tightly. The agent bit catches him by surprise-- he’s been “Mr” now for some time. Very few people still throw the “agent” in there.

“There you are--”

The sirens make it hard to hear. His hearing has been going for some time but if there’s one thing he can take from this encounter it might be that he should invest in the hearing aids he’s been putting off for a while now. He blinks up at the woman talking to him. Gently pumping a blood pressure cuff around his bicep and calling his name when his eyes slide back shut. He does try to stay awake but he’s in a lot of pain and he’s tired. Even retired he doesn’t get much sleep.

He’ll have to remember to tell JJ that. She’s always worried about his sleep schedule (or lack thereof) and thought, or rather hoped, his retirement would bring him the chance to finally catch up on two decades’ worth of lost sleep. She’ll be disappointed but not surprised.

It’ll give him a reason to reach out, to talk with them.

“Stay with me, Agent Hotchner.”

The world rocks and something that taste like plastic is placed over his face, wrapped around the back of his head.

“Deep breathes, you’re doing just fine.”

The cold air hits his sternum and his eye fly open, panicking as hands touch his bare skin. Oh, God. Foyet. I have to stop-- someone much stronger than him grabs his wrist. Two hands push his shoulders down into the gurney and he can’t fight. Can’t move.

“Agent Hotchner,” someone tries to calm him. “We’re trying to help you. I understand you’re in a lot of pain--”

He wants to go home. Away from the cold and the hands that keep touching him. “Dave?” he pants, turning his head and searching through the hazy mess of people. He cries softly, tears stinging his face as they slide down his face. He wants to recognize one person, to know one of the hands belongs to someone he trusts. Dave is okay. He likes it when Dave touches him. It’s calming and reassuring and he wants someone to call Dave. “Please,” he whimpers, curling his legs as he feels someone tear the worn fabric of his jeans. “No. No.”

He’s confused and he’s in pain and he wants all these people to stop touching him.

“Aaron--”

No, no he doesn’t like that. He cries out, failing to dislodge the hands as he kicks out. All his height, all the power he’s spent decades learning to command is useless. “I want to go home,” he rasps desperately. He can’t move, anymore. They’re holding him down and he can feel the drugs pumping into his arm. Too cold and too fast and it all hurts. Why are they hurting him?

“Just stay with us, Agent. We’re almost done and then--”

For the first time in nearly twenty years, all of his pain just is gone. He feels nothing for a blissful second. Around him, there’s a panic. The machines attached to him frantically going off as his heartbeat goes from rampant, wrong to gone. The pain comes back suddenly, sharper than before, and he turns his head with a moan as his lungs contract painfully. He coughs, rasping as his chest heaves.

He slips back under the haze but this time the pain stays.

He chokes as they try to intubate, fighting weekly but he’s too far gone to even move away from the touch anymore. Dave isn’t there. He wishes Dave were here. Dave always cups the side of his head, speaking in soft Italian that he’s never managed to pick up. But it’s soft and gentle and Dave. Garcia doesn’t hold his hand-- she always holds his hand. There’s not the soft scent of lavender that comes in with the hard rain that is Emily Prentiss. No one to jostle him for his carelessness and then crawl up into the bed with him. Reminding him of memories he’s nearly forgotten of when they were just kids.

No Jack.

Jack’s at college.

He comes in at 9:45 a.m.

By 10:15 a.m. there’s a doctor over his chest. A nurse makes quick work of trying to get a hold of a medical proxy. There’s a kid, he has a son, but there’s no contact information listed for him. She gets voicemail twice from the numbers that are listed.

Jessica is in a meeting. Her phone is on silent. It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d had her phone. He’s thirty minutes away and his heart gives out only twenty minutes after he arrives at the hospital.

Dave is in Seattle, sitting in a puddle of rainwater and trying to contain his anger as Luke changes a tire on the SUV. His phone is too wet to work. He won’t get the news until nearly two hours later when he and Luke arrive back at the precinct. Emily will not cry for nearly a week after she gets the news. She tells Jack.

The doctors assure them that there was nothing they could have done. It was a freak accident. They always knew this was a possibility, an outcome that was very real with the amount of damage done to Aaron’s heart. It’s been broken so many times… And standing in that hospital, shivering under the intensity of the air conditioning and the white burning paint, they are left with the burden of knowing he protected them tell the very end.

But they never reciprocated that care.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Hi I dont know if you want jercy requests at the moment but i had an idea for one :

Dark percy murdering calligula as a revenge for jason

Hello angel! Whew this request was willldddddd and I had soo much fun with it. There isn't any jercy per se (in fact Annabeth and Percy are together in this) but Percy is furrrrrious about Jason and he exacts a very twisted sort of revenge for his friend's honour. Basically this was an excuse to write dark!percy and by gods I hope I delivered!

CW: revenge driven, grief, graphic depictions of violence

Burning Maze Spoilers

he used to be nice.

He used to be nice.

Percy had been digging around the weapons room when his name had been shrieked like a dying animal. He had been looking for protective gear to give to little demigods in his sword-fighting class, when a scream like broken bones cracked through his body. He had been starting another calm, routine-controlled day at camp half-blood when he heard the news that made him snap.

*Two hours earlier*

“Jackson,” Annabeth knocks at his cabin door. He hears her voice carry through the open windows, and over the continuous sound of the ocean. “Pers, we have breakfast in half an hour and you have a sword class to teach today.”

The event had been printed on her wall of “to-dos” so that neither of their adhd brains would have the chance to forget. But he groans at the reminder, not wanting to escape his warm bed, or the duvet that wraps around him like a hug, or the pillows that hold his head as if he is a god. Sometimes he wishes he was a Hypnos kid. Their whole thing is sleeping . The knock sounds again.

“Seaweed Brain, come on,” His girlfriend sighs, “You promised we’d talk to Chiron about the—"

The loud and obnoxious cry of a harpy sounds somewhere in the distance and whatever she says next is drowned out completely. He knows though. Knows what she’s going to say and what they have to do. So he drags himself out of bed, like the last sack of potatoes on the crate. Heavy and bruised and discarded for the most desperate of the lot.

“I’m up,” He manages to rasp. He doesn’t like talking to people till he’s brushed his teeth, and eaten something, and spent at least half an hour staring at an empty coffee cup. A New Yorker through and through he supposes.

“Okay,” He hears Annabeth call, “I’ll see you at the dining hall then.”

He makes a sound half way between a grunt and a yawn and hopes she understands because that’s the best she’s getting out of him. The morning routine is quick, even done at the speed of a stubborn toddler. Soon he is sitting at the Poseidon table, scarfing down eggs and toast, and washing it done with a second cup of coffee. The buzzing in his veins is completely normal. And he’s definitely not speaking at a thousand miles an hour. This is how he always talks. Why on earth they allow coffee in a camp full of adhd kids, he’ll never understand. But it works in his favour so he isn’t going to complain.

By the time him and Annabeth are done talking to Chiron about introducing therapy to the camp, he feels like his eyes are moving faster than his sensory receptors can process and his thoughts are moving faster than his ability to process at all. So when his girlfriend, smiling at him about something, stops outside their training room he looks at her with furrowed brows and asks, “What are we doing here? Are we training for something?”

She frowns, “How much coffee did you have this morning?”

“Only three cups.” He shrugs, and clenches his hands in his pockets as if she can see through the fabric to the shaking body underneath.

Her grey eyes widen as if she’s about to scold him, a petulant child being chided by their ever tired caregiver. It makes the part of him still attempting to function slightly wild. He squishes that part down with the force of a thousand ships. Someone calls Annabeth’s name so with a quick peck to the cheek she leaves him in front of the training room and jogs towards the middle of camp and out of sight.

He stares at the room, trying to get his brain to stop focusing on things he doesn’t need to focus on right now, like the three lines of a song he heard at the grocery store a week ago that he hasn’t been able to get out of his head.

He used to be nice.

Entering the training room he scans the schedule and sees he’s teaching a class of small people, campers younger than ten who are just learning the ropes but should disaster ever strike will be ushered to the Cabin 9 bunkers to wait out the storm. It is a rule that no-one under the age of twelve be subject to war if they need not be. And he will make damn sure the need never ever surfaces.

He gathers swords of various shapes and sizes, along with a few daggers, and the straw dummies that have seen better days. It boggles his mind that they’re at a camp for children of literal greek gods but somehow there’s no funding for basic necessities like extra cots in the Hermes cabin, and better dummies to stab.

Muttering to himself he moves aside metal and stacks of straw, trying to find protective gear in the pile dumped at the corner of the training room. When he doesn’t see any he lets out a long suffering sigh... he has to go to the weapons room, which is more of a broom closet with deadly devices than anything else.

The room smelt musty, and the reek of rust slams into his nostrils at dizzying speeds. It reminds him of blood, and it made his skin itch with the need to get out. But still he bends down and searches through the mess of celestial bronze, and gold and—

The scream cauterizes his happiness. He is panic and pain and death and everything brutal in a single awful instant.

“PERCY!” His name has never sounded so full of agony, each syllable holds the stages of grief.

He is running towards the anguish before he’s even fully realises what’s going on. But what he sees when he crests the hill is enough to make the warmth of his heart run burning cold.

Annabeth is curled on the ground, tears like rivers of woe streaming down her cheeks and a purple flag clutched tightly in her fists.

“What happened?” His voice is soft. If he hears himself too loudly he’s going to shatter.

Annabeth cries harder, her whole body shuddering. Grief is overwhelming. Grief is all consuming. Grief will make itself known like thorns in your thumb or bullets in your heart.

“What happened?” He repeats.

And someone, far away, right next to his ear, inside his head, says, “It’s Jason, Jason Grace. He’s dead.”

He used to be nice.

It takes him three days. Three days of non-stop travelling, by foot, and air, and sea, to reach Caligula’s home. A palace. A grave. It is three days too long. Too long for a murderer to be walking free as if there are no consequences to his vile actions. But still he is here now and he will see the fall of a great, and watch how he bleeds just like everyone else. Not gold, the colour of the emperor’s one true love, but red, the colour of his victims.

Percy's eyes are almost black with violence, green so dark it reflects the night sky. His hands clench and unfurl as if practicing to wrap around a throat and squeeze till the symphony of breathing plays its last note. His body is strung taut, a bow string waiting to release. He is murder. He is nothing. He is your worst nightmare.

“Caligula.” He scrapes. It is the exact sound of a sword sparking against stone. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Nothing but scared silence greets him. He can feel the fear coating the walls of this burial ground like a fresh coat of paint. He will make a playground of the blood he spills, will invite all manner of creatures to use it as a park. He will revel in the slaughter he is about to participate in.

“Caligula!” His voice is the sharp edge of a small knife. Unassuming but deadly. ‘“It is no use hiding. There is no place you could go where I couldn't find you.” He feels the earth sway underneath him, and he grins. Oh this is going to be fun.

“Fine Emperor, if this is how you want to do it.”

With a shrug, he flings out an arm and turns three columns to dust. He watches the stone crumble, feels the sand on his palm as if he was crumbling the columns in his hands like soft cheese. With a small stomp of his foot a crack rivaling the river Thames splits the marble floor in half. The entire structure shudders, creaks right above him. His grin only gets wider, more dangerous.

“I will level this place to the ground. I will erase it from history as if it had never been. You will not exist Caligula, because you will go with it. Will be crushed under the weight of your own wealth.”

“You’re a fool,” A voice, reedy and nasalled in a way that has his soul curdling, shouts from somewhere on the far side of the room. “You will crush us both."

Percy laughs. He laughs and the sound widens the cracks in the floor. It is deep, and wild, but in the way a wild thing is caged: snapping at it’s bars, hissing to be free. He laughs.

“You are a fool Caligula. A fool if you think i am not willing to die if it means you suffer. A bigger fool still if you think it will not give me great pleasure to spend my last moments watching the life leave your eyes,”

The distant sound of bubbling starts to fill the room. Percy wonders if he can make blood boil. His mother has certainly said so enough times.

“Leave now half-blood,” The Emperor spits. There is still something of arrogant, misplaced bravery in his voice. It amuses Percy. “Leave now and you will not face the consequences.”

“And pray tell,” He contemplates, “Who you think will deliver your consequences if i leave?”

A scoff that echoes into the pathways of his brain comes from the back of the room. “I do not need consequences dealt. I have done nothing to deserve them.”

The sound of bubbling is getting louder. He looks curiously at the cracks still spidering around the room. “Ah Emperor,” He tuts, “That is where you are wrong. People who deserve consequences hardly ever get them. It is those who don’t think they deserve them that become the unlucky bearers.”

“What are you going on about, boy?” He snarls.

The bubbling is loud enough now that Percy almost checks to see if a small brook has carved its way through the floor. There is nothing there except ever growing cracks, turning to rifts and canyons before his eyes.

He used to be nice.

“We can do this one of two ways Caligula.” He starts, honey bees with a sting a little too sharp to be defence. “You can apologise and I’ll kill you quickly, or…” His smile is sickening. “And this is my preferred method, I could watch you die slowly, watch the life drain from your body and into the soil of blood-crops that will grow here, and your dying words will be the mercy you will inevitably beg for.”

The bubbling spills over the cracks, leaking salty water onto the dying marble floor.

“Better choose soon oh dear Emperor,” He giggles, “I am the only thing holding this room together. As soon as I let go the floor will split like your loyalties. You will be crushed to death by your own greed. And if that doesn't happen you will surely drown.” To emphasise his point water starts gushing from the floor, no longer a bubbling stream but a raging river. His laughter is carried along the ripples that hit the walls, already leaking with the all encompassing ocean. “Wouldn’t it be a pity Caligula? To drown in your own home, surrounded by all the things you killed for, watching as they drown with you?”

“Shut up half-blood,” He screeches, “You do not have the power it takes to kill me. You are nothing compared to the centuries I have been alive.”

“Do you know who i am honouring Caligula?” He asks softly, a stark and terrifying contrast to his smile a moment before. “In all your centuries can you remember but one demigod, a dear friend of mine, but just another victim of yours?”

“Does it matter?” He scoffs, “They are all the same in the end. All bleed, and cry, and piss, and die the same.”

The grin Percy lets loose starts hurricanes. It is the absolute wrong thing to say. ‘“If it is all the same to you Emperor,” He becomes terror. “Then i think i’ll spill your blood at his altar.”

And before the doomed emperor could react an invisible hand wraps around his throat and he was being dragged to the middle of the room. His eyes wide, popping out of his head; hands clawing at his neck as if trying to remove the grip they cannot feel; feet flopping helplessly underneath him.

“Apologise for killing Jason Grace.” It is a command.

Caligula glares, attempting to spit at his feet.

Percy tilts his head and with a single crook of his finger he slams the emperor into the wall. The crack is deafening. It makes him grin.

“Apologise for killing Jason Grace.”

Caligula produces an ancient roman gesture, passed through time as if centuries cannot dismantle the insults of humans.

Percy twists his wrist and the emperor’s body contorts into something unrecognizable, bones snapping and shattering to fit their new mold.

“Apologise for killing my friend.”

“Fuck you,” He manages to choke out.

A wave of ocean water alarming in its beauty rises behind him. He is its god. And with a wink he shoves all of it down the emperor’s throat. The column of that pale neck bobs as if attempting to take the water down. He can see the body trying to retch it all up, unable to handle the sheer amount, the salt that comes with it.

“Watch Caligula,” He motions to the palace sinking under the weight of his ocean, “Watch as everything you have ever cared to love drowns.”

Percy grabs a shard of mirror, uncaring of the gash it sweeps across his palm. He holds it up to the ancient powerful Emperor, who is convulsing into nothing. “Watch.”

He used to be nice.

Sometime later when Percy Jackson walks up a hill, and into the fading sun there is nothing but content mania lining his features, and behind him where a grand home once stood, is a trickling river and a single spear carved with the words, “Neo Helios”. The only sign that Caligula, Emperor and murderer, ever existed,

He used to be nice.

Until someone killed his friends.

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

[image id: printed text that reads, "I used to be nice." end id]

[a-dragons-journal]

My Experiences of Nonhumanity

I get asked about “what makes you/people in general feel you’re/they’re otherkin” a lot, and while the answer is far from simple and my experiences are anything but universal, I figure it deserves a write-up once in a while. A friend asked about it a couple nights ago, so I wrote up a huge long message on Discord, and decided to rewrite it into a Tumblr post for posterity. This’ll be a long one, folks; hit J on desktop to skip.

It’s worth noting ahead of time: none of these things are required to be otherkin, and none of them automatically mean you’re otherkin. In fact, most of them are little more than mildly “weird” quirks when they occur in isolation, and only start to push outside the range of “normal human experiences” when many of them occur together. You can’t look at someone (including yourself) and say “they like collecting things, they must be dragonkin!” It’s not that simple. You have to take the individual as a whole even as you examine each specific experience in more detail - don’t lose the forest while you’re studying the trees. This is just a description of my personal experiences.

Shifts

- Phantom shifts/supernumerary phantom limbs: Probably the most obvious thing and the hardest to brush off, although I still managed to do so for years. Phantom shifts, aka supernumerary phantom limbs, are the experience of feeling limbs or body parts that do not and never have physically existed. In my case, the most common phantom limbs to show up are my wings and tail; other body parts, such as digitigrade legs, horns, snout, and paws/talons, also make appearances less frequently. While my phantom limbs almost never attempt to replicate tactile sensations/interactions with the physical world, they’re often defined by very vivid proprioception (ability to tell where your body is in space, mainly via muscle stretch receptors), and I can tell where each part of the limb is at any given time - it’s not just a shapeless sense of “weight,” or it wouldn’t be phantom limbs. I can also move them at will, typically. My phantom shifts are typically spontaneous and involuntary, but they’ve been induced artificially a couple different ways as well, though I can’t typically do it at will.

- Sensory shifts: Still not something I’m totally sure I experience, but there are definitely times my sense of smell becomes insanely strong compared to usual even for me, which fits the definition of a sensory shift.

- Astral shifts: While I’m far from an adept astral traveler, when visualizing “traveling” within my own mindscape, I shift form fluidly between human and dragon - although I almost always have wings at the very least.

- Cameo shifts: Mentioned only because it’s relevant to my phantom shifts. I realized at some point that the reason I get cameo shifts of canine/feline ears sometimes is because they usually show up when they’re pricking/flattening to express emotion, and the muscles that move to do that action are basically the same as the ones that do those actions with the crest that runs down my neck, and because of my obsession with cats/dogs/horses as a young child and because that’s not a particularly strong phantom shift for me usually, I connected the dots a little wrong and created a false association.

- Self-image: This isn’t technically a shift, but it’s going here anyway because it doesn’t really fit in any other section either. My body image/self-image is weird. I know, consciously, what I physically look like. However, my instinctive self-image is... hmm. What I “expect” to see doesn’t always match up with what’s actually there when I look in the mirror. Teeth are a huge point of fixation for me for some reason; I always expect them to be larger, sharper, stronger. I expect my neck to be longer, my face to be... different. I expect scales in places. I expect claws. Even knowing consciously that of course it won’t be there, it’s still strange sometimes that it’s not. There’s sometimes some mild disconnect when I see myself. (Sometimes not. But sometimes.)

Homesickness

(Or, the sense of missing something you’ve never had - not of “I want/want to be [x], and it makes me sad/upset that I don’t have/am not that,” but of “I should have/be [x], and it is fundamentally wrong that I do/am not.”)

- Flight: I have always wanted to fly, and for a long time I thought everyone ached for the sky the same way I did. Most people don’t, as it turns out. Yes, everyone’s fantasized about flying, but most people don’t feel bones-deep, crushing, physical pain in their chest thinking about it. Most people don’t lift up onto their toes instinctively straining for the sky. I’ve felt that aching longing for it for as long as I can remember.

- Connection to dragons: For as long as I can remember knowing about dragons, I loved the idea of them and even when I was very young, when I’d only really been exposed to media where they were the great evil for the hero to defeat and received no more character development than “evil, destructive, fire-breathing beast,” I was always on the dragon’s side and wanted to learn more about them. That hasn’t faded. I’ll watch an absolutely terrible movie or TV show that I otherwise loathe if it has good enough animation and sound design on the dragons. (Looking at you, Game of Thrones.*) I would commit arson to see one of those Isle-style dragon survival games actually go through and finish production. (Holding out hope for the Dragon Game Project on YouTube; go check them out if you haven’t already.) I’ve also used dragons to represent myself for pretty much as long as I’ve had an online presence - years before I ever heard of otherkin, I was calling myself Dragonheart.

- Dragon-like creatures: Snakes, crocodilians, and dinosaurs all fall into this category - all of them give me a similar heart-and-breathing-pick-up, aching familiarity to dragons. They’re not perfect, but in a snake’s scales and a crocodile’s bellows and a dinosaur’s spectacular reptilian size I see echoes of us and I have always loved them with a passion, even before I quite knew why.

- Dragon/”monster” noises: Sound generators, creature sound design, real animal noises, etc. that are meant to be monstrous and that most people find unsettling or even frightening, I find comforting and relaxing. Alligator bellows, “monster noise” soundscapes, etc. all apply here.

* No shade on anyone who likes Game of Thrones, I’m just not a fan. :P

Behaviors/Instincts/Urges

- Hoarding: I’m still not sure how much of the crystal thing is "monkey brain say Shiney Colorful," how much is a witch thing, and how much is a dragon thing, but some of it is a dragon thing.

- Territorial/possessive nature: I can get... extremely territorial over my stuff and my home. This can extend right into being ridiculously protective of my people too, although I do try to rein that in to a reasonable amount. This also extends into games like Capture the Flag, because put me on defending the border during middle and high school and I got frighteningly territorial. (Fun fact, this extends to spiritual protection stuff and it has almost gotten me in trouble a few times on that front.) The other main side effect is my brain trying to claim completely inappropriate things as “mine,” like every piano I have ever touched or, that one time, the entire city of Portland.

- Prey drive: Going on a walk in the woods with me will always be an exercise in stopping every twenty seconds because I heard a small animal move in the brush and froze instinctively to track it. Prey drive ranges from "okay I can indulge this enough to track-stalk-chase without actually intending to catch-kill-eat" to "this is entirely inappropriate and needs to Stop Right Now" depending on the day and the situation - sometimes it’s fairly low-key and innocent, but sometimes it's also being confronted with the sudden and completely serious/genuine thought of grabbing someone or something by the neck/around the body with your jaws and hunt-prey-kill-devour when it's completely inappropriate and kind of disturbing or even sickening. It’s one of the more annoying things, although it’s not like it’s severe enough that I’m an actual danger to anyone - it’s just a gut thought that gets filtered out at the conscious level without significant problems. This also bleeds into games (I get... maybe a little overenthusiastic during tag) and even watching TV shows or gaming videos - most of the time at least part of me is rooting for the hunter because I relate to them as a fellow predator, even if the audience is supposed to be rooting for the prey - I mean, protagonists.

- Basking/heat-seeking: Probably only partially a dragon thing, but despite the fact that I hate heat in general, radiant/sun heat and heat from a heated surface are both fantastic feelings provided the ambient air temperature isn't too high. I'm guessing this is at least partially a reptile brain thing.

- Height-seeking: Give me a chance to climb up on top of something - a rock, a cliff, a chair, a table, a bunk bed - and look out over everything else, and I'll take it in an instant. Getting to climb up on the roof is the best thing that's happened to me this entire quarantine.

- Flight instinct: Being mildly leery of cliffs not because I am afraid of falling, because I'm really not, but because there's always some part of my brain that goes "jump, fly, this is a perfect takeoff spot" and I have to squash that before I do something particularly stupid. This manifests in other ways, but that's the most dramatic (and annoying) one. This is also one of the things I noticed as definitively not normal long before my awakening. (The Grand Canyon was fun.)  Similarly to the prey drive thing, it's not like I'm actually in danger of throwing myself off cliffs, it’s just - there's a not-insignificant part of my brain that thinks "hey we should go run and jump off and take a quick flight," in the same way I might also casually think "hey I should stroll across to the corner store for a bag of chips" before I consciously decide whether or not to do that. It’s the exact same type of thought process, despite the fact that one of those things is something I might do on any given school day, and the other is, you know, physically impossible.

- Combat instincts: I get in a fight and my pure instinct is to bite or claw, not kick or punch or whatever it is humans do instinctively. I have those reflexes now courtesy of Krav, but I had to train them in - if you’d thrown me into a fight before, I absolutely would have resorted to claws/nails and teeth immediately (and I still will, when pressed into a corner). Sometimes, unfortunately, this goes off completely unwarranted, either in an anger situation that does not deserve a physical response, or for no apparent reason whatsoever. It's one of the more problematic things, but once again - it’s not like it’s a compulsion, just a gut-emotion thought that gets filtered out at the conscious level.

- Scent focus: Who knows how much of this is environmental influence and how much is instinctive, but I always have and still do focus on scent more than most humans seem to. I can identify people by scent, I seem to pay more attention to it than most people do. I also seem less bothered by natural body smells than most people do, but considering the responses when I asked around in the otherkin community once about that, unclear whether or not that's connected.

- Nonhuman noises: I make just a bunch of weird nonhuman noises, and always have. Growls, hisses, croons, hurrs, throat-clicks, chirps, etc. I've never met any human who does them instinctively like I do except my half-sister (whom I didn’t meet until a couple years ago), and she was just as surprised to hear me do it as I was surprised to hear her do it.

- Affection: Face-rubbing, light head-bonking against someone’s shoulder/body/head, and love nips/bites are all perfectly acceptable ways to show platonic affection, to dragon brain. Human society disagrees. The instinct to do these things is so strong that I definitely do give into the first two with people I’m close with, and I have physically had to catch and restrain myself when I was about to unthinkingly bite/nip someone’s skin because I wasn’t paying enough attention.

- Movement: Moving on all fours just feels better than moving on two legs, even though it’s objectively physically uncomfortable because humans aren’t built for that. I also have the instinctive want to be a lot more flexible than I’m capable of being, in ways I’m not capable of being - curling all the way around something or someone to squeeze them tight in the coil of my body, turning my head a hundred eighty degrees because my neck Should Be Longer.

- Expression: Baring one’s teeth when frustrated, irritated, or angry is not a particularly human instinct. I realize it’s something a lot of primates do do, but. *gestures at society* Humans ain’t one of them, at least not anymore. Even in Krav Maga, which is a self-defense style that focuses on being vicious and “dirty fighting” to survive a real street fight, every single time I have a new partner (and most times I have a partner I’ve worked with before) and I get tired enough to get snarly, they respond with some variation of “god that’s scary”. See also: gesturing at things with my nose because it should be long enough to make that a much more dramatic gesture than it ends up being.

- Den/lair/small spaces: I never feel safer than when curled up in a tiny alcove just big enough to comfortably fit my body curled up into it. The only position I’ll prioritize over it is getting up onto a high space.

Past Life Work

Unlike every other bullet point on this list, most of these didn’t apply until I started actively seeking them out, because, you know. Past life memories are like that.

- Past life regressions: I’ve got a tag for these, but tl;dr I take anything I learn from a past life regression or similar meditation/visualization with a whole spoonful of salt, forget “a grain,” because I know for a fact my brain is very good at making stuff up with these types of exercises. Unfortunately, they’re the only way to get information on certain things, like appearance.

- Tarot: Got a tag for that too. I use tarot to ask questions and confirm or reject suspicions.

- Spontaneous memories: I don’t have many, but they’re clear as day when they do appear. I don’t count something as a “true” memory unless it includes senses I can’t reproduce through imagination - smell and touch, mainly. Mostly these are quick flashbulbs, nothing cinematic or anything like that.

- Noemata: Again, I don’t have much in the way of noemata, but what I do have is persistent and consistent. I know things about my wing shape and flight style despite not having really experienced that in detail during past life regressions. That particular set of noemata has been confirmed to fit with real-world physics and bat wing shapes (the closest wing type to mine that exists or has existed on Earth).

[spookyc]

Thank YOU for answering! And omg is there more than one mastermind? Spill the tea! ❤

There sure is! Okay, so initially I planned on just Kiibo being the mastermind, as opposite to kokichi, he takes his position as ultimate supreme leader very seriously and so no one takes him seriously in turn. This results in the twist being that he actually did genuinely mean everything he said and was in fact the villain he portrayed himself to be. And while I liked this idea, I didn't think it was enough, I mean, "the bad guy was actually a bad guy" isn't really that fulfilling by itself. But then I had the idea of having two masterminds and suddenly things became interesting. But enough background, let's get into it.

So, the two masterminds we have in this au are Kiibo and Miu, and their partnership was formed during the killing game, or rather, right before. Orginally, Kiibo had no intention of seeking help from his fellow classmates as he simply saw them as subjects under his control. Or, you could even say he them as machines under his control. And the most dangerous of these machines was Miu, because she's the ultimate survivor in this au. Kiibo knew he wanted to get rid of her as soon as possible due to her unfair advantages and inconvenient talent.

He planned to have her killed until an idea suddenly occurred to him. Why get rid of the threat when you can use it to your advantage? He saw how frantic Miu was about not knowing her talent, and so he formed a plan. He asked to meet her in the library and once she arrived, he told her he knew where she would be able to find about her talent. When she asked where, he revealed the hidden door and used his card to enter the room inside. Then he beckoned her inside and closed the door behind her and revealed his true identity as the mastermind of this killing game.

When she inevitably didn't believe him, he referred back to the idea that the mastermind must have a machine that can create Monokuma and reveals Motherkuma. He then tells Motherkuma to "birth a Monokuma" and Motherkuma creates a new Monokuma on the spot. After witnessing this, Miu replies saying, "how fucking typical" this is and asks Kiibo if he intends to kill her now that she, "knows too much." Kiibo is of course offended by this notion and he corrects her saying that he has no intentions of harming her, as long as she listens to what he has to say. Miu rolls her eyes but reluctantly hears him out. Kiibo goes on to explain that he will do his best to uncover the secret of her talent as long as she helps him run the killing game.

He states that he cannot reveal her talent outright because he himself does not know everything it entails and wishes to properly inform Miu when he has figured it out. He also adds that agreeing to this deal will guarantee her survival in the long run. Now, I know this may seem like a one-sided deal on Kiibo's part, and while partially it is, you have to think about this through Miu's perspective. See, Miu is far more antsy about learning her talent than Rantaro was. Because of her inquisitive mind, she can't stand not knowing something, even more so when it's concerning herself. Secondly, I think that Miu might fear that her forgetting her talent had to do with her accident that landed her in a coma.

She might think that she's relapsing and so she's desperate for any clues towards her missing talent. Also, as much as I love Miu, she's kinda selfish, no, more like really selfish. Yeah a lot of things that Miu did in the canon ended up helping others, but she did all of those things out of her own self interest. So, while Miu isn't cool with killing people, it's a necessary evil so that she can discover her talent. And this deal will also ensure that she doesn't die before she's able to find it out. So, she agrees and this is how the two masterminds are established.

Kiibo then tells her everything, the truth of the outside world, his plans for the killing game, etc. He also allows her access to Motherkuma and the creation of Monokumas. From here on, the two work together to monitor the students and to subtly influence the killing game. Or well, Miu does at least. Kiibo leaves most of the technical work to Miu, monitoring the students, asking Motherkuma for security footage, directing Monokuma and the Monokubs according to Kiibo's instruction, and distributing the flashback lights. Kiibo is too preoccupied with his image around the other students to be bothered to do any of the work himself. And while Miu despises having to do all of Kiibo's dirty work, she finds her own enjoyment in her work.

Often times she'll program Monokuma and the Monokub's AI to say something crude, or she'll place one of the flashback lights in a particular obscure place. But regardless of her own enjoyment, if doing this will help her grow closer towards finding her talent, she'll put up with it, if being very snarky about it. She deals with this corrupt bargain for 2 chapters without much complaint, but after the third she goes impatient and begins to doubt if Kiibo intends to keep his end of the deal. When she confronts him about this, he tells her he's working as hard as he can but that the only thing he knows is that her research lab is located on the 5th floor. Miu did not know of the research lab as Kiibo hid the survivor perk from her. Miu grumbles about the lack of info and contradictory story, but after pondering the information about the 5th floor, she starts to conceive a plan.

After the 4th chapter, when Kiibo tells the class about the truth of the outside world, he demands that Miu come up with a way to reinvigorate the killing game. Miu says that she will, as long as Kiibo tells her what her talent is. When he refuses, she tells him that she can summon as many Monokuma as she wants. He argues that he can do the same, and that's when Miu pulls a knife she had hidden under her clothing. She points it towards Kiibo with a smug grin on her face. She says that he is free to try, but that ultimately he will still be outnumbered 2:1.

Realizing that he no longer has a choice in this matter, he finally reveals that Miu is the ultimate survivor. When she asks him what that means, he gives her the key, the survivor perk, and the usb port to her research lab and tells her she can learn more there. She thanks him, and extends a hand saying that she'll take care of the killing game issue as soon as possible. With his signature naivety, he takes her hand and she pulls him close, plunging the knife into his stomach. As he gasps in pain and grasps onto her, she gets close to his ear and says, "How's that for starting up the killing game?"

And she gives a extra twist in his stomach for measure before she retrieves her knife and leaves him to bleed out on the ground. And so the power becomes transferred to Miu, making her the new singular mastermind.

Now I'd love to get more into Miu's character and what she does from here on out but I'll save that for a Miu specific post. Had a lot of fun with this one, especially because it's one of my bigger divergences from canon and I'm quite happy with it. Anyways, thanks for the ask!

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 21: Getting to know one another was a terrible decision, here’s why. Plug your ears.

Lance: Feelings, oh no Keith: Feelings, what are these and what do i do with them? Adam: Pfft, feelings, I- Wha- Um. I kicked a baby today? That's so evil guys, come on! Lance: *skeptical look* Keith: *skeptical look* Adam: Alright, fine! Feelings, gross! And I didn't kick the baby... I just took its candy.

First  Previous  Next

Keith stares at the boiling-hot rock at his feet, ear twitching with curiosity.

“Oh dear. We’d best run inside.” Alfor places a hand between Keith’s shoulders as they make a break for the hole in the castle wall while more rocks fall from the sky. "This happens sometimes! You get used to it!"

“Is this why Lance doesn’t know what rain is?!” Keith shouts as they dodge screaming rocks.

“Yes! He’d lose his quiznaking mind if you told him about it!” Alfor yanks Keith out of the way just as a flaming rock smashes right where he was about to be. Alfor opens a hidden door (which Keith makes note of for later), yanks him into the hall. Alfor pants, doubled over. “Ancients, I'm old. Are you alright?”

“I think so. Does that happen a lot?”

“Only every few phoebs. You might have noticed, but we have an asteroid belt for our innermost planetary ring. It's where much or our ore comes from.”

“I thought nothing of your rings, until now.”

“Well you and Crown Prince Lancel will get to hear all about the minor inconvenience of it when you hold court tomorrow.” They’re back to formal names, like taking off clothes. Or perhaps like putting them on.

“Excellent. I can’t wait. You know, every time you make me go to court, I lose an egg. Infertility is already almost assured-”

“Don’t even bother, Prince Yorak. I’ve been enduring court for centaphoebs. It’s someone else’s turn.”

“Worth a try.”

Alfor chuckles. “I’d best go attend to my husband. I have been working, for better or worse, and he misses me. Be careful, Prince Yorak. Love complicates things.”

“Ke- Yorak!” Lance comes running up, immediately puts a hand around his waist. “Are you alright? It’s stoning outside!”

“Yes, we’re fine.” Keith sighs. “Can you, um. Would you mind showing me the way back to our quarters? I don’t know it.”

“Sure. Come on.” Lance slips his hand to the small of Keith's back, guiding him away. Keith pulls his braid over his shoulder, twisting the end through his fingers.

“Crown Prince Lancel.”

Lance freezes, turns to look at his father. Keith feels a buzz of energy coming from the hand on his back. He can feel the breath Lance takes before he responds. “Yes, King Alfor?”

There's a long, pregnant pause. Then, “You’re doing an excellent job, Lance. With everything. I’ve… I’ve never been more proud of you.”

Lance swallows audibly. Aside from that, the Altean is disturbingly still. Keith twists the end of his braid, says nothing. Finally, “Thank you, Father.”

Back in their room, Lance frantically inspects him. “Are you alright? Were you hurt? What did he say to you?”

“You forgot to mention that an Altean marriage is void without consummation.”

“Nevermind that! You were alone with my possibly corrupt father and then out in a stoning! Are you alright?”

“I…” Keith stares blankly at his spouse while Lance turns his face this way and that, deeply concerned. He swallows. He’s in danger of making this whole mess so much more complicated that it ever needed to be.

“Keith!” Those blue and pink eyes glass with worry. “Are. you. alright?!”

“I- I’m fine.” Keith twists the end of his braid, clenching his jaw before he can chirp and embarrass himself.

“You say as you display a brand new nervous habit,” Lance mutters, still fussing. “Also, your ends are split and you should let me trim it.”

“Sure.”

Lance opens his mouth, pauses. “What, really?”

Keith nods, not trusting himself to say more than a single, monosyllabic word at a time. Lance tilts his chin up, looking into his eyes. “Are you sure you’re alright? You don’t seem like yourself. You didn’t get conked on the head, did you?”

“N- no. I might have taught the king a new swear word, though.”

“Okay.” Lance draws back. He doesn’t sound convinced, but he lets it go, runs a hand through his starlight hair. “Go… take a bath or something. Rest. Relax. Whatever you want. The stoning will be an issue for the rest of the night, so do stay inside.”

Keith nods, grabs some nightclothes, slips into the shower. He stands under the water, draws his hair over his shoulder, unraveling it. He’s being stupid. He can’t cuss out a king and start falling for his husband all in one day.

Actually, cussing Alfor out had been pretty fun. But the rest is incredibly stupid. Keith lets his forehead tip against the smooth white walls.

He is incredibly stupid.

Back in the main room, Lance paces. Adam watches.

“I just don’t understand why I care so much. I mean, I've taken good care of my lovers, but he's firstly, not a lover and secondly, I never cared this much about anyone else!”

Adam smirks, pushes his glasses up his nose. “Perhaps Lady Renli is right. Maybe you do have a thing for kids. Oh, I’m sorry. Kits. ”

“You are disgusting. Why do I keep you?”

“Because you’d die without me. Speaking of which, someone tried to assassinate you both while you were out today. Unilu, we suspect.”

“Oh. Did you kill them?”

“With my bare hands.” Adam smirks, scales flashing with perfect timing. It's highly unsettling.

Lance blinks. “Really?”

“Of course not. I paid someone else to do it. You think I’d get blood on my hands? Do you have any idea what blood can do for soil acidity? I wouldn't have to explain this to Takashi.” Adam scrolls through his datapad, typing on his holographic keyboard.

“I don’t know; I just had this incredibly vivid image of you popping up behind someone and snapping their neck and then calmly going to have brunch with Keith’s littermate as though murder means nothing to you. Also, I'm telling Keith you've got first name privileges. Even he doesn't seem to have that.” Lance has never been more concerned with the person he appointed as his attendant.

“You’re partially correct. You don’t get to know which parts. Also, no one says 'no' to me. Not twice anyway.”

“That's highly disturbing. Are you at least flirting with Shiro?” Nothing. Lance pouts. “Whatever. What do I do about Keith?”

“Do you love him?”

“...No.”

“Do you want to love him? Do that thing people that aren't me do where they love each other and have a fulfilling relationship?”

Lance glares, sticks out his bottom lip; Adam raises an eyebrow; Lance crumbles immediately. Mumbles, “...Kind of?”

Adam sighs, smiles. “Then, just do what you’re already doing. You’re working hard to fulfill both his needs as a kit and as a person. You respect him, you're letting him grow on his own, and you're working to include him in your life. That last bit is so incredibly important.”

“You know, growing up, I never imagined I’d one day be raising my own husband. I just hope I can raise him right. I don’t want to be a deadbeat with a worthless spouse who sneaks out after dark and runs wild with all the other delinquent child brides.” Lance shakes his head in mock disappointment. Keith sneaks out a lot to go wander aimlessly in the woods and he has absolutely no problem with that. He trusts him to come back.

“You’re morally dubious, your Majesty.”

“And you’re morally bankrupt, my friend.”

“I never even made a deposit.” Adam smirks, smug and satisfied.

“You say that like it’s a good thing. You actually sound proud of that.”

“Tell me something, your Majesty. Where would you be if I had?”

“Do you two need a minute alone or…?” Keith steps into the room, hair soaking through his nightshirt.

“Excuse you, I am a married man. How dare you, sir?!” Lance grins, holding out a hand to Keith, who takes it, sits down on the bed a respectful distance away. Keith seems okay. A little… small, like he wants to vanish, but he doesn’t seem injured- wait. “Hey, did you hurt yourself?”

“Hm? Oh.” Keith holds up his burned arm. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You’re still bleeding,” Adam pointed out. “How did you not notice?”

“I was distracted.” Keith starts twisting his hair, until he notices the Alteans watching him.

“You didn’t tell me he had a new nervous habit. When did he develop a new nervous habit? Do you have any idea what this could do to my-”

Lance pinches the bridge of his nose. “Adam could you maybe-”

“Lay the fuck off?" Keith suggests. "Just this once.”

"Hey!"

“Wow your language is really awful today. Adam, do shut up please.” Lance munches his lip, tries to figure out how to set his spouse at ease. “Do you want me to cut your hair?”

“Okay.”

Lance smiles, thanks Adam when he materializes with a pair of hair scissors and a fine comb. “Here, you can sit in Adam’s chair, since he’s up.”

“Oh, thanks so much," Adam grumbles. "I’ll see you tomorrow. You’re welcome for not being dead!”

“Dead?” Keith asks, turning to him with alarm as the doors close. “What?”

Lance draws on his quintessence, runs his fingers over Keith’s wound. “Assassination attempt. Adam took care of it.”

“I bet he didn’t even blink.”

“Certainly not, as he watched his own assassin break my assassin’s neck.”

“Adam has his own assassin?” It occurs to Lance as Keith asks his question that they should likely be way more concerned about this. Eh. Facts of life.

“I imagine he grows them like tubers in his garden. Or perhaps in a jar.”

“I believe it. I bet he keeps the jar illuminated so he can watch it grow while he falls asleep like a very macabre night light… I’m glad you weren’t assassinated- Why are you petting my wound?”

“Look.” Lance smiles as Keith gapes down at his arm, sees his skin closing. It is pretty miraculous. Both the healing and the fact that Lance managed to do it without blowing them up. “Hey, I’m sorry you got hurt. And that you had to deal with my father. I know he’s not exactly your favorite person.”

“It’s fine. I still hate him, but… I think I understand him better. So that’s something.” Lance hums, pulls him into a chair. Keith sits, feels a comb running through his hair, the *snick* of the hair scissors. ”You won’t cut off too much, will you?”

“No, I won’t ruin your beautiful hair. You will, if you keep clawing at it when you’re stressed… You’re surprisingly vain.”

“I'm not vain about everything. It’s just the one thing… What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Uh, court, then studying crop yields. Wanna come? You can learn all about… I dunno, plants I guess.”

“Hm. sounds exciting. Yeah, I’ll come.”

“Great! It’s a date,” Lance teases. “It’ll be so romantic, learning about shreika feces or whatever. But we could use a higher sustainable yield so we’re more desirable for interplanetary commerce.”

“I take it there’s a long-term aim in mind?”

“Two. Firstly, alleviate poverty and the resulting bitterness among the people who grow my food. Secondly, start creating interplanetary relationships based on something other than the terror of our vicious army and merciless, excessively destructive armada.”

“I like that idea. Perhaps we can go speak to some of the farmers? People… People like to know that they’re valued. Talking to them instead of researching them in your enormous private library will go a long way toward gaining their respect. Also, agrarian communities tend to be close-knit, so you may need to start with small things before they'll open up to you.”

“Oh, like adjusting taxes? Done! But I’ll keep that in mind. There you go! Hair’s all cut. I worked a bit of quintessence into it to keep it healthy.”

“Thank you… My father kept his hair long. He, uh. When I was a small kit, my mother was fighting and I was too young to be left on my own. My father would give me the end of his braid to play with while we were hunting. We’d have to be still and quiet for a long time, and it helped if I had something to do. We didn't have much.” Keith pulls a lock of hair over his shoulder. It feels nice, nicer than before. “It seems stupid, but he was so strong and brave and this is my way of honoring him.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid. I think it’s nice that you found a way to remember him. Also, I wanna see you strangle someone with it. It’d be super cool.”

Keith laughs, soft and sweet. Lance smiles at the sound of it. “Well, maybe someone else will try to assassinate us and you’ll get your wish.”

Lance flops back on the bed, wriggling up to the pillows. “Yeah. If Adam doesn’t spoil the fun with his stupid efficiency.”

Keith flops, wriggles to lie next to him. “Yeah. He’s terrifying. I think he’s the most dangerous person here.”

“Oh. Yes, without a doubt. He’s pure evil and we should all be afraid. Except Takashi.”

"What?! That's not fair! Even I don't call him that!"

"I know. Can you even imagine? Pure evil and pure good teamed up together? They could do anything they wanted. Anything at all."

“Mhm. Goodnight, Lance. I'll teach you about 'fuck' tomorrow.” Keith nestles himself down in the blankets, yawning sleepily as he curls himself into a ball, tail up by his hands. He's exhausted, deserves a good night's sleep.

"Ooh, can't wait." Lance activates Keith’s datapad, dims the lights. He leaves the fire crackling. Nights are getting cold; winter is on the way. As he burrows into the bed, he remembers something, sits back up. He reaches over, rubs at the base of Keith’s velveteen ear. The Galra purrs, leaning into the touch as he settles deeper into the bed.

Lance smiles. “Goodnight, Keith.”

[itsuki-minamy]

“SIX IDOLS” – “SPRINT DREAM” (Part 5 / End)

Translation: Naru-kun

Raws: Ridia

* Chapter 1 01 / 02 / 03 / 04

That day, Maki Arakawa (29) was visiting the Tsubakimon Dome hotel with her husband Takashi Arakawa (32) and their son Daichi Arakawa (0).

That day was Maki and Takashi's third wedding anniversary. The Dome Hotel was the place where Takashi proposed to Maki, and it was customary for the couple to visit this place on their anniversary every year.

With a new family member who is less than a year old, Maki and Takashi huddled together and wanted a night view from the living room. Takashi leans into the champagne and Maki leans into the non-alcoholic sparkling wine, looking at each other with a smile. In Maki's arms, Daichi, who had just fallen asleep, was giving a silent sigh.

A little compliment to a family that usually leads a modest life. Still, Maki was happy enough until the explosion happened.

The moment the explosion caught her, Maki was thrown to the ground with her husband.

When she woke up, her head was covered in black smoke.

"Daichi?"

The first thing that came to mind was the safety of her son. Looking down into her arms with a pale feeling, Daichi was still asleep. It was just a moment of relief, and he was soon filled with smoke-colored anxiety.

"What the hell?"

There was no way to answer that question. Her husband has wandered off a bit. He appears passed out, bleeding from his head. When she saw him, she was terrified that his heart would stop, but at least he seemed to be breathing.

Maki crawls closer to her husband, feeling pain glowing throughout her body. There seems to be a fire somewhere between the black smoke that comes in and the heat that burns the skin. That fact irritated Maki and made her reach out her hand.

"Get up."

The husband does not respond. Maki raised her face slightly and looked around her.

There is no one but them.

Is it after everyone has evacuated? Have they been left behind? Even if she gets lost, she does not know where to go and cannot leave her husband. It was decided that she cannot take him or her son on her own.

Fear and anxiety clench Maki's throat.

She takes the PDA out of her pocket and touches the emergency number. However, Maki herself wasn't sure how much it meant. The fear that surrounds her is getting stronger. Even if the rescue team is dispatched from now on, will they arrive in time?

"Yes, what happened?"

Communication has been opened. Maki squeezes the words out of her throat that moisten her body.

“Please help, please help. Please, please."

Unless this child is saved.

The moment he muttered a sentence-like word in a weak voice, a roar deafened Maki's ear.

A helicopter appeared outside the living room, behind a glass window.

A high-speed rotating rotor disperses a bombardment sound and the strong wind moves in the opposite direction. The helicopter tilted slightly and a sliding door pointed into the living room. Maki saw with wide eyes that a man with glasses was standing in the place that had already been opened.

It was not a rescue team. She knew it at a glance. After all, clothes are different. She had never heard of a rescue team dressed in such white, flowing clothing. It has beautiful bright colors and is like the clothes that idols wear.

The man with the glasses laughs smartly when he sees Maki. Then jump out the sliding door with a run.

"......"

Maki loses her words and watches over the elaborate suicide scene. From the PDA that fell to the ground, a Fire Service official said, "What happened? Please respond!" She heard a scream, but couldn't react. That was not the case.

The man crossed his arms, jumped high and rough, through the window, rolled across the living room floor, and landed brilliantly.

He balanced on his right foot, left knee, and right palm, and lifts his face to look at Maki.

Then he said with a smile.

"Hello."

"Ah, hello."

Barely responding, the man approached slowly, keeping low.

Behind him, there was a figure that jumped in the same way. He rolls on a glass covered floor, jumps and screams.

"Gak! The glass stabs me!"

“Domyoji-kun, continue with the preparations immediately. Be careful not to inhale smoke."

"Yes! President Munakata!"

When the man named Munakata approached Maki, he lifted his body, turned it forward, and began to wrap something.

"Oh, that...?"

“We will get away from this. Please hold your son firmly."

The soft voice in her ear soothed Maki's fear. She hugged her son tightly and, through her armpits, Munakata fixed a harness on Maki's body.

Munakata looks back and calls out to Domyoji, who is also wrapping the husband in a harness.

"Are you ready?"

"Well, somehow!"

Domyoji nods wrapping her weakly passed out husband around his body with a harness. When Munakata turned around, he turned his smart eyes towards Maki.

"Don't worry, I'll get you to safety immediately."

Somehow, however, she had an unpleasant sensation.

Maki looks out the window with her harness wrapped up. She sees the back of a helicopter that was going very far away. Maki asks, swallowing hard.

"Isn't that the one you ride?"

"Unfortunately, the emergency exit leading to the helipad is blocked by fire. Landing is difficult and jumping from here to the helicopter would not be possible with you in tow."

The question of what to do then did not need to be asked.

Munakata walks over to the broken window while tying Maki and Daichi to himself. The trampled piece of glass rings. A strong wind from the high sky blew and caressed Maki's cheeks forcefully.

The Tsubakimon Dome can be seen below. She wonders if he was doing some kind of live performance, and she could see the crowded seats even from such a high place.

Munakata looks at her calmly and has a soft voice.

"And we have less than five minutes to get started. This is the only way to get there on time."

She is not sure what you are talking about, but she understands what "this method" means. Maki looks towards Munakata with tears in her eyes.

"I'll ask you just in case, you've done it before, right?"

Munakata responds with a smile on his face.

"I read the manual."

Maki tried to resist, but her hands were empty and only scratched the air. Maki, who was shaking, saw that she could no longer understand the language, Munakata placed the sole of the shoe on the window frame.

Smooth to the end, Munakata says the last sentence.

"Ok, let's go."

"Hm..."

She can't say wait a minute.

Munakata was a man who executed words. A second after he said that, he had already jumped from a height of 100 meters above the ground with Maki and Daichi.

++++++++++

Basically the longer it takes to fall, the faster it will fall.

Its formula, commonly known as gravitational acceleration, is 9.8 m / s, and a rough calculation consumes a height of about 100 meters in less than 5 seconds. Knowing that, it's probably a bit more serious. She would have resisted.

Fortunately, the fear fainted her and it did not interfere with Munakata's work.

At the time of take-off, Munakata quickly opened the parachute. Munakata experienced a free fall for a time until the acceleration died due to air resistance.

At the sound of the wind, Munakata heard laughter.

Suddenly the baby was laughing in his arms. He wondered if he was enjoying the fall, and while hearing a laughing little voice, Munakata was laughing too.

"It's fun? It may be common for you."

The parent's "up and down" game and the current situation may not change much for this child. With that in mind, Munakata precisely operates the parachute.

Air resistance travels through the harness and squeezes Munakata's body. Munakata looked at the Tsubakimon Dome below, while reducing the burden on mother and child as much as possible. Already in his direction, the dome has been opened to reveal the stage.

"President, please respond. Let us know the current situation!"

Awashima's voice echoes from the device close to the ear. Munakata responds to that.

"This is Munakata. We are currently gliding about 70 meters from the earth's surface. We will proceed to land on stage."

In the center of the stage is a circle of bureaucracy, the end of today's sprint. There are 2 minutes and 47 seconds until the start. The image of landing, taking off the parachute, and entering the performance has already been created in Munakata's mind.

"No problem. Everything is fine. Awashima-kun, let's meet up on stage sleeve!"

At the image of Munakata, a sudden gust of wind disappeared.

"Yes!"

Before thinking of anything, Munakata had to devote all his energy to controlling his posture. The parachute, which was about to rotate like a cone, was operated with one hand like a hot kneading jumper, and in the worst case it prevented a free fall due to the disappearance of air resistance.

"President? What did you do?"

Awashima screamed at the anomaly.

"Well, it's not a big deal. I was exposed to the wind from the building and my posture was altered for a moment. The check was completed, but there is a problem."

"What kind of problem is it?"

“The current gust of wind has blown me off the field a lot. If nothing is done, we will land in the audience seats."

Awashima took a deep breath.

Due to the gust of wind, the chances of landing on stage were nil. A similar gust of wind might bring the whole picture back to the landing course, but it's like waiting for a miracle. It was the role of the believer, not the role of the idol, to hold onto heaven with prayer.

Munakata ponders as he spins in the air.

He cannot get off in the audience seats. No action can be taken that could compromise the safety of the public. Not only Munakata himself, but even the metal parachute hardware cannot be dropped on the heads of fans.

So there is only one way left.

"We will take a landing course outside of the dome. We won't be in time for the performance, but we can't help it."

Awashima squeezed out a rough voice.

"Come here."

Until now, Munakata has been racing to get to the performance on time and not disappoint the expectations of the fans. It is not unfortunate that the effort turns into a bubble.

However…

Munakata stroked the baby's hair, giggling happily at his mother's breast, with his fingertips.

"Don't be sorry. We are idols. Those who seek the best. But if that doesn't come true, we can choose the next best option."

"President..."

Awashima's voice has a bitter resignation.

But she was also an idol. Awashima starts working after dispelling it in an instant.

"I get it. Immediately, personnel will be sent to the outside of the cupola, and the president, the mother and the child will be immediately collected. Even if the delay is unavoidable, it should be as short as possible."

"Yes. Thank you."

A sudden voice interrupted Munakata who was about to approve the decision.

"It's not like that."

Munakata slightly opened his eyes.

He can't be wrong, it was the voice of Fushimi Saruhiko, the center of "Shoumutai".

"What are you doing?"

"Please be quiet, Assistant Principal. President, there is no need to change course. 2 minutes to start. If so, it is time to do so."

"What?"

"Akiyama, do it."

With Fushimi's command as the trigger, a sight of pure white spread under his eyes.

It was a huge cloth that completely covered the audience seats at the Tsubakimon Dome. The pure white fabric that glows under the light has a blue dyed stamp in the center. That's the emblem of “Promotion Scepter 4”, the flag of the idol that they should be proud of.

"Now you don't have to worry about landing in the audience. Please come down quickly. The stage is set!"

Watch the scene and listen to the words.

A powerful smile appeared on Munakata's mouth.

"I get it."

Then she slowly descends towards the emblem of his proud "Promotion Scepter 4".

++++++++++

"Huh... someone..."

In a park located outside the Tsubakimon Dome, Domyoji Andy was trapped in a tree and called for help with a weak voice.

The rescued person, tied in front, fainted slightly. After all, he never woke up during the drop or after the landing. He doesn't think there is any difference in life, but he wants to be rescued as soon as possible and taken to the hospital. It's about time Domyoji's shoulders scream from their weight.

"Oh, Domyoji-san! You were in a place like this!"

At that moment, a light illuminated Domyoji's face with a voice of salvation.

They were the staff of "Scepter 4." It looks like he was holding a ladder and looking around the dome. Domyoji mutters through tears when he sees them preparing for rescue.

"Hail me..."

Domyoji, who was saved several tens of seconds later, asked the staff with a deep sigh.

“No, what happened to the president? Did he do it on time?"

"Yes! It seems that with Fushimi-san's ingenuity, he was able to make it in time for the performance! It seems that he is performing well as of now!"

The staff deftly pulled out the PDA which projected a live image.

6:23 pm. The stage lights go out and the noise from the audience seats quickly subsides. For example, fans' expectations, enthusiasm and excitement increase.

The silence of passion, as if you could see it.

A suddenly glowing spotlight pierced the darkness.

In the center of the stage was a man crouched with one knee raised. He is dressed in a beautifully decorated suit and holds a microphone in his slim hands. There is not a single mistake or a single wrinkle in his clothes. The ideal idol is that person, the Idol King who was there.

Those in the audience, behind the television who are watching him, probably don't know how he got to that stage. Munakata must say that it is also the idol's responsibility not to report it.

As soon as the song started, Munakata looked up. A confident smile. An act that can be said to be solemn. Take a fixed turn and start singing.

Domyoji laughed impressively as he watched the fans' enthusiasm explode.

"I'm glad. He is on time."

"Yeah, I'm glad."

The staff laughs too. Only they know how many difficulties Munakata had to go through to be in that place. These difficulties have finally been overcome and the goal has come true.

"Well then, I'm ready too."

Domyoji says that, shaking his head. He also has a major role in the "Extreme solo part, Idol from Above 6500~". For that, he has to go back to heaven.

The staff stopped Domyoji's back.

"Domyoji-san, it's very difficult to tell... but Domyoji-san's part is gone."

"Eh?"

The staff scratched their heads at Domyoji, where their eyes became a point.

“It seems that it is impossible to take off on time because the helicopter has run out of fuel on the previous flight. Therefore, we will reproduce the PV of the album released next week as a replacement for the emergency. That was decided."

Domyoji froze and said...

"What is that? Has all my special training so far been for naught?"

Look at the facial expressions of the staff, quietly but surely.

"What is that? Aaaaaaaaaah!"

Domyoji's scream echoed around the outer edge of the dome.

[taewoongfmd]

headcanon 1.

all current unity title tracks as ranked by moon taewoong.

boss.  musically-speaking, woong thinks that boss is unity’s best title track. he was pretty shocked the first time he heard the instrumental, was not at all expecting to hear a unity song that didn’t immediately make his head hurt. while the sound is still kind of ~experimental~, he genuinely thinks that it works??? this is probably the era where he looked the most comfortable on stage because he didn’t entirely hate the song he was performing.

kick it.  kick it is a guilty pleasure. woong hates to admit that he likes it, but he..... really does. he thinks it’s a fun song (he still knows how to have fun??? wow!) and while it’s kind of tiring to perform, he wasn’t mad about having to perform it. he thought the stage stylings were cool, too, but that’s another thing he won’t admit.

punch.  again, woong doesn’t like admitting that he enjoys this song, but he does. tries to blame it on the fact that he’s getting SO used to unity’s messy songs that they simply don’t strike him as bizarre anymore because god forbid he ever admits that he still enjoys things sometimes. as much shit as he talks about unity’s music, he’s more of a performance-focused person anyway and he thinks that punch was just..... cool.

regular.  woong liked regular, but by the time that it was released, he had fallen deep into his “money above everything else” mindset and his paranoid ass thought that it was a call-out, so he acted uninterested. “damn, could never be me” type beat. but by the end of promotions, he had loosened up a little and was having fun with it.

the 7th sense.  if taewoong knew what was ahead of him, he would’ve appreciated the 7th sense so much more. he thought it was kind of outside the box for a debut song, was kind of bitchy during promotions because he was in physical pain from not knowing what tf to do about the injuries he was hiding atm, was reported to look “bored” or “angry” on stage. the 7th sense.... come back to him. he’ll treat u better this time <3

limitless.  something about limitless feels inexplicably eerie to woong. he’s tried to talk about it before and his fans just told him to shut tf up (fair enough), but the feeling is still there??? you might think it would make him not like limitless, but it’s the opposite. he thinks it’s kind of interesting, wouldn’t mind dropping another song like it.

firetruck.  firetruck felt (and still feels) like a fever dream to taewoong. the first time he heard it, he absolutely hated it. the second time, he hated it even more. even by the time recording was done, it was released and they were promoting it, he! still! hated! it! but... then he watched the comments slowly go from saying “this made my ears bleed” to “wait, this is kinda good though?” over the course of a few weeks, then a few months. ended up becoming begrudgingly fond of firetruck as he watched others warm up to it. 

without you.  as someone who complains about unity’s experimental sound so much, you’d think that their one relatively normal-sounding title track would be higher up in the list. however, woong’s really particular/picky about music (shocker!) and this song reminds him a lot of one direction. he’s not about that.

touch.  he doesn’t really have any actual issues with touch, it’s just that the concept didn’t fit his assigned image at all and he didn’t like reading comments about how ~it’s nice to see him lighten up for once~ or, alternatively, ~woong doesn’t suit this~. felt awkward promoting touch, so it can kiss his ass. goodbye.

cherry bomb.  woong doesn’t like anything about cherry bomb and can’t even be bothered to pretend like he does. it’s not his least favorite, he just thinks that it??? sucks??? when he read comments clowning the “if you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands!” part, he couldn’t even blame them. he thinks it’s dumb, too.

simon says.  all that woong has to say about this song is what the fuck? he actually thought that it was okay the first couple of times he heard it, but by the end of promotions, he started to think that it sounds an awful lot like radio static and random stations bleeding together ‘cause the signal’s bad. 

superhuman.  honestly, woong doesn’t think that superhuman is unity’s worst song. the reason that he claims that it’s his least favorite is because he’s super petty and he doesn’t like superheroes, so the concept was really dumb/unappealing to him. he still wouldn’t like the song very much if the concept was something different, though. 

[trying-write-fanfics]

Shouji Mezo X Reader part 18 Remember

Shouji passed his exams and felt the massive burden off his shoulders. It was mostly Hagakure saving the day, but he knew his courage to face Snipe had its help. He’d gone back to the dorm with the rest of the students. Satou, Kiri, Mina, Kaminari, and Sero were all nervous about what was going to happen with the camping trip. Other students tried to comfort them, but one student was missing. Shouji saw Urakaka watching the window, and found Midoriya and Y/n were training together outside. Being the background character he was, he changed his hand into an ear to listen. He pretended to watch the students comfort the failures, but was listening to the window.

 “You’re trying to be more like Bakugo with a move like that. Your landing technique might shatter your ankles.” Y/n told him. 

“When you were running around, did you roll your ankle or anything? Did you endure it?” He asked her.

“You could no doubt, mr break your arms like a glow stick, but your running won’t be as sturdy.” Y/n told him. “When you’re launching your legs, think about the back of your thigh where it connects to your butt.”

“I’d ask you to demonstrate again, but I don’t want you to hurt yourself again.”

What?

“I’ll be fine. You’ll just have to get me back to my dorm without the class finding out.”

What! Shouji looked at the window. His sudden movement got some attention. 

“Something wrong, Shouji?” Momo asked a little quietly.

“No I was just…” his gaze went to the window as he couldn’t hear the rest. 

“She came over and Midoriya asked for some training. It’s kinda admirable how much he trains.” Momo said. “I’m sure they won’t mind if you join them.”

So she was only hiding the fact she was injured not that she was there. Does he go down there and help them out, or does he leave them to their plan of not getting caught? It would be selfish just to ruin their plan for pure fun. Midoriya came back into the dorm for a water.

“Is y/n not coming in? She probably needs a water, Midoriya.” Jiro said. “I can get her one.”

“No-no that’s fine, I got it!” 

 This kid was a terrible actor. He was too nervous to expose Y/n to the class. Mina smiled at Shouji.

“Maybe I’ll just ask her to come in! We have to tell her about the exams-“ it was a ploy!

“She’s really tired-“ Midoriya said, trying to stop Mina.

“I‘ll take this.” Shouji took the water bottle. “I wanna to talk to her.”

 The girls swooned and Urakaka had a sigh of relief. 

“I’ll go with-“ kiri said.

“You will not!” Mina tackled him. 

“You gotta give them space.” Momo whispered.

“Why?”

“Shhh.”

Shouji went outside to find Y/n waiting. She was bleeding or coughing and it didn’t seem like she had a rash, but she was wearing clothes so who knows. She was just looking straight ahead. Shouji was trying to prepare himself for what backlash she was suffering from.

“Hey.” Shouji made his presence known.

“Oh- hey Shouji what are you up to?” She asked him. 

“Midoriya told me to give this water to you since you two were training.”  He held out the water bottle. 

She didn’t even look at it.

“I’ll be fine, I didn’t do much work.” She said. “Is he coming back out here?”

“I don’t think so. But I can help you get back to your dorm, or recovery girl if there was an issue with your training.”

 “Oh I’ll be fine. We can just go back to my dorm.” She told him. 

 He realized she wasn’t even looking up at his face. Was she embarrassed to talk to him? Did she actually like him like that? It was a silly thought, but it still lingered.

“Alright.”

She was not the one to walk first. It was like she was waiting for Shouji to go, so he did, and she followed. Her footsteps were copied to his. He decided to stop and she did the same. He went back to walking and she followed. 

“How was your day?” He asked, trying to be normal for her.

“Oh you know, comfortable. Better than prison.” She said. 

 Her steps were straight but going off the course of the side walk. She was walking right into a light post. Shouji pulled her to the side, again her back was pressed up against his chest. His hand was on her hip and another one was holding her arm to provide support and make the pull wasn’t too harsh. 

“Almost ran into the pole.” He told her quickly. 

“I was gonna get out of its way in time.” She lied pretending to keep her cool.

 Her heart was racing feeling his touch. She didn’t pull herself away. 

“Uh-“

“Sorry mr hero man!” She peeled herself off of him.

 Shouji faced her. He placed one hand on her shoulder, another on her hip. The moment wasn’t dying down like though. The other hip got a hand. So many hands. Then she felt one hand move her chin up to meet his eyes. Was he gonna kiss her? Y/n’s hand went to his wrist on her shoulder. She relaxed her body to prepare herself for such a moment.

“You can’t see can you?” Shouji asked. 

Oh she was about to explode. She threw her hand to her sides.

“And?” She was angry.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Shouji asked, removing his hands one at a time. 

“It happens here and there. I didn’t think it was a big deal.” She sighed. 

 “How long does that usually last?” 

“I’ll wake up fine.” She sighed. 

She looked so sad as she sighed. Her emotions were fighting over being disappointed or angry, but the girl knew she wasn’t entitled to what she thought was going to happen. She felt stupid she thought something like that was going to happen. She was wrong!  Her eyes didn’t sparkle anymore. It was Shouji’s confirmation that she did want something to happen between them. He’d be lying if he said he was completely if this was his goal. There was a part of his brain saying do something, and hoping she did like him even if it seemed weird and impossible before. That part was his heart. He went back and forth on those thoughts to. It just feels like he would be taking advantage of the situation.

“Here…” he said, putting one arm around her shoulder and the other held her hand. 

 Though she couldn’t see him, he saw her eyes widen and a smile lip curl at his action. Her smaller fingers wrapped around his. Maybe Shouji did like her, but in all honesty, kissing would be going too far right now. This was nice as it was, but now isn't the time for risks and impulsive decisions. This was already overwhelming, risky, a lot.

“Worried I’ll run into another pole?” Y/n asked calming the tension a bit.

“Yeah...I gotta use my big hero arms to prevent that.” He told her. “I passed my practical exam today.”

“That’s good Shouji, was it scary to verse Snipe? I’d shit my pants if I had to.” She told him. 

“Yeah, but Hagakure figured out what to do so I created a division.” He told her. 

“Resourceful!” Y/n shimmied her shoulders. 

 She kept talking, keeping their tension light, relaxing and fun. As Shouji looked down at the blind girl he confirmed he too liked her. She had a need to be tough and prove herself and though it could get annoying that she refuses help, it was what drew him closer to her. He liked how her fingers felt in his hand, or how his arm draped over her shoulders. And honestly she was beautiful. Yeah she was conventionally pretty, but to him she was beautiful inside and out. She stood up when her friends were rude. She had this certain magic that she could just make room for herself in your life and you would want her to stay. She rubbed his thumb over his knuckles. 

 They made it to the dorm, but their time together did not end. He was invited in. She asked for his help to pick out some pajamas from her drawer. He handed them to her and he waited outside. She invited him back in again. At first they were just casually talking about class and food they liked. Their feelings began to heat up some more again. They both found themselves laying in her bed, facing each other. They were still talking and laughing. Y/n’s eyelids were indicating she was actually tired as they looked heavy, fighting to stay open. Probably from training Midoriya.

“I think when I’m an old lady I’m just gonna have a million cats and too many pillows on my ugly floral couches.” She yawned. 

 Shouji has completely forgotten what they were talking about. He was just in bliss listening to her talk about random stuff. He decided to take a risk, not a kissing risk, but a romantic risk. He took his arm and brought Y/n into an embrace. There was no rejection in her body language. In face she curled her body more into Shouji’s chest. She used his arm as a pillow and finally shut her tired eyes. She had talked herself to sleep it seemed. He brushed her hair out of her face to see her sleeping visage better. It was that easy, huh? 

 “You know...someone as rock hard as you...you would think you’d be… too hard to….”she yawned. “...but you’re actually pretty nice to…”

His whole life he was used to being scary. He had a scary face, a scary body. Words were constantly spoken behind his back. He told himself that this was fine. But this...with Y/n was better. He was wanted, and she wanted to listen to what he had to say whether it pissed her off or not. She had one hand on his chest. His eyes went to the clock of the room. He had ten minutes before curfew.

“I gotta go.” He told her.

“Don’t let big mean Aizawa catch you.” She yawned.

 Shouji pulled a blanket over her shoulders and then ran out the door. She would at least get a good night sleep, since she went to bed so darn early. He made it to the dorm in record time, but that didn’t not save him from some of his classmates staying up waiting for his arrival. His mind was still jumbled from the events in Y/n’s dorm.

“You were gone a long time Shouji.” Mina said, pretending to act casual.

“Is there anything you wanna tell us?” Momo asked while sipping tea.

“Did you two bang?” Kaminari asked.

“I told you not to ask that!” Jirou kicked him.

“Not much happened.” He lied.

“Haning out at someone of the opposite sex’s dorm so close to curfew-’ Iida popped out from behind the couch yelling.

“But I made it on time, so there’s nothing to worry about.” Shouji pointed at the clock.

Gottem!

“I mean, you could do something juicy before curfew.” Mina said.

FUCK!

“She mostly told me about how she wanted to be  a cat lady.” Shouji said, not lying.

“I don’t know if that’s enough to satisfy us. Why don’t we invite her shopping with us tomorrow?’ Mina asked.

“Okay.”

 Shouji had his own reasons not to be so vocal about whatever this was. One, he wasn’t even a hundred percent sure he liked her, nor was he knowledgeable about dating. Two he didn’t want to get teased. Yeah, feeling like a background character does suck, but he was not ready to make a dramatic leep. 3 Y/n may not even like him back. Yeah back there she did, but it might be because she doesn’t know how to repay him. She’s rich so she would feel the need to buy him things, but knows it wouldn;t work on Shouji, and he’s a hero so he wasn’t gonna take cold hard cash. She couldn’t even see him today, maybe she was just caught up in the moment. He wasn’t worried about Y/n keeping whatever this was a secret. It would look bad if she was flirting with a student…right?

[geeky-introvert]

I’m Here III . Ivar X OC

Summary: Gertrud and Ivar have been plotting to overthrow Oleg but they had to continue to be very careful. With Hvitserk back with Ivar, working with Dir in secret and the war coming to invade back into Scandinavia, it was only a matter of time....Third and final part.

Word count: 2010

Warning: Death, language and fluff.

Tag list: @lisinfleur��� @mdlady​ @didiintheblog​ @alicedopey​ @rekdreams247​​ @mblaqgi​ @oddsnendsfanfics​ @aphnxrising​ @happydaysandersen​ @therealcalicali​ @naaladareia​ @inforapound​ @captstefanbrandt​ @waiting4inspiration​ @tabalugax​ @p8tn0lish​ @igetcarriedawaywithyou​ @laketaj24​ @darlingp​ @tephi101​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @lordsexmachine​ @wonderlandofsu​ @alwaysbenhardysgirl​ @sparklemichele​ @ivaraddict​

If anyone else wants to be added to the tag list let me know please.

Gif credit to me.

It felt so long that they both had to continue to play along, to stay on Oleg’s good side just until the war was won before they made their move. Gertrud felt so anxious to drive a blade in the back of Oleg’s back, twisting it and letting him feel the same pain she felt in her heart for all he’s done not just to her but to Ivar and their twins.

It was a bit surprising to have Hvitserk joining his brother again, after finding him in such a bad way and being banished from Kattegat, for killing Lagertha. She had no sympathy, in fact she was proud of him for finally dealing with that murderer.

She had missed him though, he was always a favourite of Ivar’s brothers. To see him meeting his niece and nephew for the first time brought joy to her heart, seeing both him and the twins having fun together brought a smile to her.

Then there was Igor, a child who turned out to be the empire, a whole title but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the boy. The poor thing has been through a lot, forced into things and being taken by Oleg to raise and manipulate to become the perfect ruler in his image. What was good though was Igor enjoyed spending time with them, and grew a fond bond with Ivar, almost like a father. He even liked to spend time with her and she embraced the boy like a mother would. All he needed was just parents to love him, to live as a child and enjoy as much of it as he could. In a way they have helped him too and tried to keep Oleg’s twisted words away from his young ears.

It wasn’t long after they helped Oleg’s brother, Dir, escape from such a cruel imprisonment that Oleg started to become a little more paranoid about who to trust but seemed to continue to trust Ivar, but not her. He was smart to not trust her and she wasn’t surprised. But being married to Ivar his hands were tied as he needed to get Ivar as king again in Kattegat.

After winter has passed it was spring, and also time to set out to invade Scandinavia. Gertrud wanted to join, to fight, but of course much more she wanted to keep the twins safe and that wasn’t the only thing keeping her from not going.

“Be safe, my love.” She kissed Ivar and pressed her forehead against his own just as they were all about to leave. Once she got word they’ll make their way to join them for their celebration, and for the rest of their plan to take place as well.

“I will, my darling wife.” Ivar whispered kissing her a second time before embracing the twins. “You both be good for your mother now, keep her happy and safe, won’t you?”

“We will, papa.” Yrsa and Ulf answer at the same time before standing around my legs.

Once Ivar had stood back up again she smiled and caressed his face. “We’ll be together again, I promise. We need you.” She then moved his hand down to her flat belly, silently telling him of the news through her eyes with a warm smile.

“You’re with child?” Ivar was shocked as his eyes swelled suddenly.

“I am, and this time you won’t miss out on anything for our third child, I promise.”

Ivar let out a beaming smile and kissed her passionately. He was so happy, and hated to be leaving her and his children like this but it won’t be for long.

No matter what they’ll always be together, as a family.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Once word was given that the battle was won Gertrud took the twins and made their way towards Kattegat with a few of Oleg’s guards. Of course, she expected nothing else, which is why there was a plan unknown by them.

Once they were halfway the ambush was given. Each of Oleg’s men were taken out. She could’ve done it, sure, but she had the kids to worry about and made sure they didn’t see what happened. Dir’s men then came and she went with them so hse could speak to Dir and let him know about what was happening.

He had healed well, scarred for life but least he was alive and strong.

Gertrud and Dir spoke for a while before some of his warriors changed uniforms and led her back to Kattegat. Everything was planned, it was only a matter of time.

By the time we got there everyone was still celebrating their victory. Entering the hall I smiled seeing Ivar and both Ulf and Yrsa ran up to him and Hvitserk.

“I’m so happy to see you both well.” I say coming closer and kissing Ivar. “Everything is in place, just as we planned.” I say about Dir, but still carrying on as if it was meant about all of this happening around us.

“Just as we planned.” He says back smiling  before hugging the twins.

Sitting down together for the feast I kept a close eye on the twins as they played with Igor. This was indeed a time to celebrate, but my mind was too focused on what was to happen soon at the right signal.

While Oleg had his back turned I whispered to a thrall, one I had learned to trust and promised her freedom if she kept the children safe. She nodded and headed over to them, staying close at their side.

“My friends! This is a glorious moment for us!” Oleg shouted, spilling his mead everywhere. “We won the war! They fear us! They flee from us! We conquered!”

The room erupted with more cheers and she joined, blending in before Oleg looked at her, a blank stare, as he’s done before while she smiled in return, showing everything was fine.

“Glad you could join us for this victory, Gertrud.” He says sitting down with them in front of her. He never liked her, she knew this, and she never liked him.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.” She answers before taking a drink from her mead.

“Tell me, how is my brother?”

She held his stare as Ivar and Hvitserk looked at him as well. Looks like the moment was about to happen. Of course they couldn’t keep this away from him, he had ears and eyes everywhere, they weren’t even surprised that he knew something was up.

“Whatever do you mean? How should I know?” She asked, still playing along.

“You know exactly what I mean, you sneaky bitch.”

“Don’t call my wife that.” Ivar said back defending her.

“I’ll call her whatever I please.” Oleg looked like he had her cornered, that he had the upper hand, the king, but he was wrong about that. “Your wife here has betrayed us both by coming here with my brother’s warriors. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

So that was all he knew, he thought only she was behind it all, not Ivar.

“You’re crazy and paranoid.” Gertrud smirks at him. “And drunk.”

Suddenly Oleg throws everything off the table and everyone goes quiet, his men getting ready to take her prisoner and to stop Ivar and Hvitserk from getting in their way. However she didn’t even flinch and held her stare at him, unaffected by his actions.

“I knew you were trouble the second I saw you.” He snarls down resting his hands against the table. “You women are all the same, snakes, vipers, just fucking cunts! Take her to the cells, I’ll deal with her later.”

In the moment, before Ivar could defend her further, shouts and blades hitting together were heard coming from outside, confusing Oleg and making Gertrud smirk more.

Looking at her children she watched as they were taken in the back by the thrall before the front doors burst open, and Dir’s men charged in, slashing their way through. Ivar and Hvitserk joined in against Oleg’s men, attacking them now while Oleg stood there staring at the scene unfolding, confused and baffled. Silently she came up behind him, blade him hand and suddenly drove the dagger into his neck, holding him there and bringing her lips against his ear while he choked on his blood.

“Not only did you kill Hilja, but Vigrid as well, and many other people you simply didn’t like. You won’t hurt anyone anymore, you foul monster. No one is going to miss you.”

Turning him around she pulled the blade out them, blood splattering against her face while he stumbled backwards trying to stop the blood, but it was useless. She watched, satisfied as he fell to the ground with blood spilled everywhere, bleeding out before becoming lifeless.

The remaining of Oleg’s men were killed and some surrendered, taken as prisoners. It was all over then, so fast. Ivar came up beside her, helping clean some of the blood from her face and giving her a warm smile.

“I’m proud of you, my love.” His words made her smile before she kissed him.

“Thank you. I’m proud of you as well. You no longer need to be his puppet, you’re free and we’re home again. Kattegat is yours, my love.”

“Ours. Kattegat is ours.” He repeated and pressed his forehead against her own.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

As the months passed by Ivar and Gertrud became king and queen together. He finally decided to not go after those who followed Bjorn, now that he was dead, as was Lagertha, he saw no need to send fear throughout the lands more.

Dir returned to Kiev with Igor, to teach him to become a better emperor as trades were agreed to as well. They missed them, and held faith that he will indeed become a good leader for his people and lands.

Gertrud was heavily pregnant, just like she was with the twins which made her question about this pregnancy but she stayed silent about it not wanting to get excited over nothing.

When the time came it was a struggle like the first, but she had a lot of support from everyone including Ivar right at her side while Hvitserk took care of Ulf and Yrsa.

It was a painful and anxious wait, fear only growing more the longer it went on. Then finally the midwife saw the head and helped deliver the baby, within moments the second baby followed, two crying infants and giving Gertrud a moment to rest as they were cleaned and wrapped after Ivar cut their cords, still in shock.

“We have twins again…” He whispered looking down at his wife, proud of her.

“Yes…” She panted softly. “Twins….another two mouths to feed.” She joked lightly, already loving the two of them so much.

The midwife and a thrall finally brought them both over and letting them settle against their mothers chest, cooing and looking around curiously, bright blue eyes and blonde hair. “Another boy and girl.” Gertrud was so proud of what the gods have given them. “They’re so beautiful. Can we name them both what we agreed on?” They already knew.

“Yes, of course, it only fits them both well.” Ivar says tracing his finger over one of their chubby cheeks with a smile.

“I had hoped you would say that.” Looking back down at them, she kissed each of their heads. “They live on in both of you, our sweet children. Hilja and Vigrid.”

At that moment Yrsa and Ulf came running in not able to wait any longer to meet the surprise that waited for them. Hvitserk stood by the door, smiling proudly at his little brother and his family. They were indeed a whole family, together, never parted again.

[if-you-built-yourself-a-myth]

Heaven’s High - Chapter One

idea courtesy of @beaniebabyrobbe

A crazy night out with friends and a harmless little prank on a doctor come together to match soulmates.

Sander didn’t mean to get so wasted after work. He never did, really. He was more the kind of guy to go home and draw pictures of the view from his window, maybe watch some TV or something, and maybe prepare a late-night snack. There was a television program on Discovery channel, Naked and Afraid, that came on almost every night. The concept of survival in remote locations fascinated Sander. He liked to enjoy an episode or two most nights before going to bed around one.

Contradictory to his bad-boy exterior, Sander disliked parties. He wouldn’t have been in the bar at all had it not been for his friends (and coworkers, but that part wasn’t as much of a factor). Théo and Céleste both had to deal with nasty clients in the tattoo parlor that day, and had enlisted Cas as their designated driver so they could get fucked up. Cas said fuck that and called Sander. Sander, technically speaking, was not allowed to drink, so he should have been the perfect match for the needs of the group. How he ended up knocking back another shot of vodka while Théo chanted in the background, he’d never know.

He did know, however, that it felt fucking awesome. So awesome, in fact, that Théo texted Sander’s roommates, Skyler and Michaël, to join in on the fun. Céleste ordered them all another round, and another thing became clear: there was no way he’d be able to drive Théo’s beat-up station wagon back to the apartment complex where they lived. No way in hell. Too bad.

“If we’re going to have to walk home,” Cas slurred, waving around half a gin and tonic, “I’m going to fucking kill you. Do you understand that, Driesen?”

In one sense, yes, Sander understood. In another sense, he found himself obsessed with the way condensation beaded on the outside of the glass in tiny droplets. He picked one at random and rooted for it to win as it trickled downward. Shit. Lost twice.

“Do you hear me?”

Yes, in one sense, Sander heard.

“These are new shoes. Can’t be… walkin’ and shit.”

Wasn’t that the purpose of owning shoes, though? Like, they were invented so that people could walk and shit on top of nasty stuff that would hurt their feet without them. Sander didn’t think he would wear shoes at all if they weren’t necessary.

“We’re gonna walk,” he assured Cas. They both finished their drinks.

Sander gazed across the bar. Though his vision was shaky and unstable, he could tell Michaël was sitting near the door. Things weren’t the same between them anymore, a reality he knew he would have to face at some point… but not today. Michaël spotted him staring and nodded; clearly, he wasn’t as drunk as Sander. Sander liked being drunk. It made him into more of himself than he got to be when his medication was stable. It allowed him to think about things that he actively pushed away when he was sober. Like Michaël. 

Vodka recreated a picture of them underneath the strobing lights.

For every ten disjointed, garbled thoughts, he thought one thing coherently. The first coherent thought was: did I like him when I kissed him, or are all of my feelings fake? Without alcohol, the question would have killed him. With, he hardly noticed the sting.

Skyler gathered the group together with a wave of their hand. “I know another club. It’s getting boring here.”

Sander disagreed. The bar walls were full of paintings, photographs, and postcards, and the windowsills boasted a large array of antique beer bottles. There was plenty to stare at. He was coming up on the introspective stage of drinking where one calls their ex to ask what went wrong, and he didn’t want to waste it by walking to a club. The others overruled him.  

“Hell yes!” Céleste yelled. “Train or bus?”

“Better not be a fucking dive bar,” said Théo.

What was wrong with dive bars? Besides the smell, and occasionally the food poisoning, Sander thought they were pretty great. He met his ex-girlfriend at a dive bar.

Michaël threw an arm over Cas’s shoulders. “So long as there’s dancing, I’m in.”

“New shoes!” Cas said, for no reason at all.

They scrambled out the front door. Sander concentrated everything into not tripping over his own feet as the world pitched and spun around him. The trees planted on the sidewalk swirled in technicolor circles. The stars streaked across the sky and mixed into the streetlights like running watercolor paints. It would make a really good photo.

He was unsure of the exact volume he’d consumed in the bar—the best estimate was a lot—and now it fought in his stomach to come back up. Skyler remedied this problem with a tiny flask they passed to the others. Sander managed to hold himself upright for a whole five blocks.

“So we’re headed to…?” prompted Céleste.

Skyler dismissed her with a wave of their hand. “It’s not much farther. All you drunks should be fine.”

“Debatable.” Cas looked at Sander.

Sander could feel the group’s eyes redirecting to him. At least that meant one of his senses was still intact. They all knew that he wasn’t allowed to be drinking, even though they were the ones passing him shots and flasks, and perhaps they felt guilty about it for a second. He didn’t so much care.

“I’m good,” he thought he said. He would later find that what came out of his mouth was closer to Tchaikovsky’s 1812 overture than an actual sentence.

The last thing Sander remembered from their night out was Skyler beside him, hand on his shoulder, asking, “Doesn’t lithium make you get drunk really, really quickly?” to which Sander replied, “Yes, it does.” After that, his memory faded into pretty much nothing. That was his favorite part.

*

He was in a curtained-off room, surrounded by Cas, Céleste, Théo, Michaël, and Skyler. His body felt like someone had filled it with cement, specifically his head. Prolonged ringing overtook his right ear before dissolving into a thrum in the back of his consciousness. He blinked a couple times. The sound dampened and disappeared.

Théo stood the closest to his bed. There was blood on his hands and in his dark, curly hair, worked into the spirals like hair gel. It would be stiff to the touch. Cas, Céleste, and Michaël engaged in a game of Uno on the floor, not that Sander could see the cards. When Théo saw Sander’s eyes were open, he laughed and clapped a hand on his bed railing… when did Sander get into a bed? Why did it have rails?

“Good morning, sleeping prince! I thought they were gonna have me for manslaughter.” It wasn’t a funny thing to say, but he appeared to think it hilarious. Still drunk, most likely. “No need to worry, we did your paperwork.” Everyone else snickered.

Footsteps sounded from close by. Cas whispered, “Oh fuck, you’re just in time, here he comes…”

A man entered through the curtains (considering the context, a doctor). To Sander, it hit like a slap in the face. He had never seen anyone so striking or memorable. This scene was what he pictured before he drew portraits of people he didn’t know and the feeling he felt when he painted places he’d never seen. The emotion hit him too fast to be real, he thought. He was around sixty percent sure that Théo was covered in blood because Théo had committed his murder and the man before his eyes was God Himself. That, or whatever the fuck he drank at the bar before had given him some serious rose-colored glasses. There was no way this man could be a real person.

He wasn’t ready to see something like that so soon after waking.

“I’m sorry,” said the doctor, immediately pulling a one-eighty to leave Sander’s curtained section. “Wrong room.”

Théo snickered. “Who are you looking for?”

“I’m not allowed to give names.”

“Could it be…” Théo dragged the reveal out like a drumroll. “…Sander Driesen?”

The doctor halted five steps away and turned back. His looks mesmerized Sander. He had short brown hair, messy in a sort of endearing way, concealed almost completely by a bandana covered in teddy bears holding lollipops. He wore pink scrubs patterned with the dogs from the hit children’s show Paw Patrol. Sander had spent enough time channel-surfing to know the dominant motif was Skye, the cockapoo. The earlier thought needed amending: he was ninety percent sure he was hallucinating.

“Is this…?” The doctor walked back through the curtain. He crossed to the bed and looked down at Sander’s bleeding forehead and the fresh-blossoming bruise. “Are you Sander Driesen?”

Sander, ever the romantic, could think of only one response. “You’re gorgeous.”

The doctor blushed slightly, but he didn’t let it stop him from launching into his speech. “Hello, Mr. Driesen. I’m Dr. Robbe Ijzermans. I am the pediatrician on call tonight, here to see if your brain is doing okay.” He said it all slowly, which was alright for Sander, who didn’t understand a word of it anyway. “Although, judging by this little stunt, I have determined you might not have one. You don’t look like a six-year-old.”

Skyler burst out laughing. They stopped when Céleste shot them a pointed look.

“I suppose you didn’t do the paperwork.”

Skyler stifled their giggles again.

“So,” Robbe continued, “Can you tell me where you are?”

Sander’s mind was a blank slate. All he could process was the fact that Robbe was now coming closer to him with a penlight ready to shine into his eyes. The doctor had brown eyes. There were freckles, faint as hell but definitely there, clustered close to the bridge of his nose. Sander’s vision blurred, cut in and out. He wondered how he could even hold a picture of Robbe’s face in his mind. And a burger would taste really good right now.

“Big white room,” said Sander.

“Where is this room located?”

Sander scanned the room, the bright lights overhead, and the cute guy in pink scrubs standing in front of him. “Heaven?” He made eye contact with Robbe. “Are you an angel?”

Now the rest of Sander’s coworkers dissolved into hysterics. Cas almost fell over, grabbing an IV pole for support. When it rolled, he went down with it. If Céleste had wanted to shut them up this time, a look would not have done it. Michaël, the least inebriated of the group, gave Robbe an apologetic shrug.

“You’re in the hospital,” Robbe said. His voice remained steady, though he’d blushed even deeper red. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

“Huh?”

“I kicked you in the head,” Théo supplied from the floor beside Cas, “and then you threw up and passed out on the sidewalk.”

What the fuck?

Robbe glowered at Théo. “You kicked him in the head?”

“We were at a bar.” Théo shrugged. “He fell over while dancing and I kicked him in the head.”

Now that they mentioned it, Sander’s head retained a ghost of an image. Michaël, under strobe lights again. Head connecting to concrete. In this lens, though, it all seemed like a caricature.

Robbe put his hands to his temples as if he’d never experienced stupidity at such a magnitude before. “Then he threw up on the sidewalk?”

“Yep.”

“And he passed out?”

“Yep.”

“Is that where the blood on your head came from?”

Théo brushed his fingertips over the scarlet crust adorning his forehead. “Oh, yeah. I leaned down to check if he was breathing, y’know?”

Huh, suddenly Sander felt nauseous… no, tired, really tired… time to take a little nap…

“Mr. Driesen,” said Robbe, jarring Sander back. “Do you remember any of that?”

Sander decided to intact some subtle flirting so the angel would let him sleep. “I’m in love with you.” Nailed it.

“No, Mr. Driesen, do you remember being kicked in the head?”

“Your eyes are pretty.”

“Mr. Driesen?”

Céleste held onto Sander’s bed railings to keep herself upright. “He’s not gonna know.” She pantomimed tilting a beer back.  

“You use conditioner, don’t you?” said Sander, because it seemed like the natural direction of conversation.

“It’s not really my job to do this.” Robbe shined the light into Sander’s eyes. “Please follow the light for me with your eyes not your head.”

Sander stared him down and didn’t move an inch. “You don’t?”

“How does your tummy feel?” He was talking like he would with little children, going through the motions, Sander guessed. It was a good guess. He could be a very good guesser once the alcohol started to wear off. “Does your stomach hurt?”

Sander was too busy thinking about his guessing prowess to answer the question. The alcohol was not, in fact, wearing off.

Robbe took a step away from the bed, as if considering another test to determine the extent of injury. He thought better of it. “This isn’t my job. I’ll refer him through to the specialist. And you—” He stared daggers at Théo. “—should put the correct age on paperwork. Are we clear?”

“He acts like he’s six,” Théo offered.

“If something more pressing was wrong, mislabeling his age could lead to the hospital being under-prepared to treat the ailment.” Robbe’s eyes returned to meet Sander’s. Sander felt sparks travel through his fingertips… or maybe he was just cold. “Some symptoms mean more when in children than in adults, and you could have panicked an entire ward over a lesser problem.”

“If it was so bad,” Cas protested, “The guy at the nurses’ station would have shut us down! He let it through.”

Robbe, while maybe a little flushed, had kept everything together until that point. As soon as the words exited Cas’s mouth, he made a face like a key in his head had turned and everything had clicked. Without another word to Sander or his friends, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the hospital room.

“Jens!” Sander heard him yell. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Sander’s coworkers burst into crazed laughter for the umpteenth time that night. When they recovered though, there was a wordless agreement that it was time to head back home and leave Sander with Michaël for the remainder of the tests, since they were roommates. He was glad for it; everything in his body wanted him to lay very still for the next three hundred and fifty years. The blankets were soft. His eyelids were heavy. There was blood on his face and a gash that someone would have to wake him up later to stitch. He had earned a good night’s rest by now.

One by one, they filed past the curtains. Sander was concussed, and maybe a little drunk, and the least credible source for information on body language. That said, he could have sworn that Michaël took his hand at some point when the new doctor came in.

No need to care about that. When he drifted off, he imagined kissing Robbe under strobe lights, even though he knew the infatuation would dissipate before morning.

[theawkwardundercoverwriter]

Bucky X Reader

Description: Bucky and Y/N in the 40s. If Steve had a younger sister this is how I imagine their lives would be.  (Inspiration and scenes from Captain America: The First Avenger). Not factually accurate. 

Warnings: Abuse, swearing and of course amateur writing. No editing has been done. 

Part One:

No matter how many times you madly readjust your hair the purple blotches only deepen above your eye. 

“No no please.” You murmur to yourself. The overwhelming sense of panic runs down your spine as you note the time on the wooden grandfather clock that sits almost mockingly above the fireplace. Steve would be home anytime now most likely with Bucky in tow. Ever since your parents died both Steve and Bucky have gone the extra mile to look after you. Both held a protective gaze over you at all times. If either of them saw you in this current state they would flip. 

You grab your powder, smothering it above your eye causing you to wince - mostly in frustration that the welts couldn’t be covered to the extent you want them to be. 

You feel completely stupid as you evaluate the damage left on your body. You had a cut on your forearm that was still bleeding. A trickle of blood is currently seeping through your dress sleeve. The new shoes that Steve somehow managed to buy for your birthday are scuffed, and the bow of your hat remains detached, lying on the floor.  You had gotten into a fight with your boyfriend, Eric. You’ve been courting him for only a couple of months, but his nasty side becomes increasingly evident as each day passes. He’d enlisted for the army, he, of course, had the extra pressure of serving his country as his father was the mayor of Brooklyn, Fiorello H. La Guardia.  He had to go and fight in the war; his drafting day inches closer and closer which means his explosive nature heightens. The fight you two had was over Bucky. He as usual accused you of having feelings for your brother’s best friend. You didn’t try to deny it, because deep down, you both knew it was true. Bucky’s smile had the power to mend any ache. He is your rock, especially when your mom died. You wouldn’t know where you would be without him. He knew all your secrets, all your fears and how to make you laugh like no one else. No man could ever make you feel the way he did. Watching Bucky go on countless dates broke your heart, it nearly tears you apart at the near mention of another woman. But you ignore the dull ache in your chest; instead of pining over your brother’s best friend you alter your attention elsewhere. You decided that you didn’t want to be heartbroken by this beautiful man anymore so instead, you came up with a plan. Erica was the answer to get over Bucky. 

He beats you. He yells at you. But you still stay. You figure you aren’t exactly innocent when it comes to Eric and his drama. You are and have been using him, maybe not on purpose, but if you were being honest with yourself, he’s a distraction. It made you a guilty party in this mess.  So you stayed and remained silent. If anyone found out the mayor's son was hitting his lady, there would be a huge scandal. Your reputation would be damaged and Steve would run off and get himself killed if he and Eric ever came face to face. 

Rushing around the room you quickly change into another dress, discarding the stained one into a ball at the bottom of the closet.  You fumble in the kitchen cabinet looking for bandages. The number of times you’ve had to fish them out of the draw for Steve when he came home beaten and bloody has gotten you familiar with first aid. 

Two familiar voices irrupt in laughter from outside the walls of your home. “Crap.” You hiss as your fingers fumble with the bandage. 

“Ah, I can’t find my key.” Steve huffs from outside the door. Tying the bandage up and pulling your sleeve down you take a deep breath attempting to calm yourself. 

“Seriously man? Again?” Bucky laughs. You hear some movement and scuffling outside. You assume it’s Buck grabbing the spare key from underneath the loose brick just outside the apartment. A few seconds later the key jingles in the keyhole and the door swings open. 

“Hey Stevie, did you manage to get some bread while you were out?” You call walking towards both men pretending that it was any other normal day. 

“Sorry Y/N, I got caught up. I’ll get us some tomorrow.” He shoots you an apologetic smile. You walk towards them ready to give him an ear full when something stops you dead in your tracks. 

Bucky stands proud and tall in his army uniform. Gold flakes dance in his blue eyes as he drinks in your appearance. 

“You’ve got your orders?” You nearly choke out. 

“Yeah, first thing tomorrow.” You swallow the thick lump that’s formed in your throat. “Y/N, don’t look so sad.” He gently coos. Bucky pulls you into his side, gently rubbing his fingers up and down your arm in an attempt to comfort you, but it does nothing to soothe your aching heart. You dreaded this very day. His hand continues to trace soft patterns as he senses your unease but he soon hesitates. His hand hovers over the bandage hiding under your sleeve. Your eyes interlock and immediately a rush of panic overloads your body as he starts to notice the messy hair, the overdone makeup and the bandages sprawled out in the kitchen. You can see his mind working overtime, putting all the pieces together. His eyes burn into your soul and for a second you are convinced he can see right through you. Quickly pulling your hand away you turn your attention to Steve. Examing his appearance you notice the bruises on his face. They were nearly identical to yours. 

“Seriously Steven? Again?” You huff, “You got into another fight? Who was it with this time?” You begin to fuss over him but he swats your hands away, not allowing you to fully inspect his wounds. 

“Y/N I’m fine.” He wines. 

“Honestly is it too much to ask to just walk away?” You can feel Bucky’s eyes scanning your appearance but you ignore him. 

“Are you going out tonight Doll?” Bucky quizzes. 

“Yeah what’s with the clown makeup, you don’t need it Y/N, you’re beautiful, just like mom,”  Steve interjects. “ And I promise I will be careful next time.” He says while planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “You don’t need to worry about me.” 

You roll your eyes; you’ve heard that before. 

“I haven’t made dinner because I’m going to the Stark Expo.” You answer Bucky while staring at your bare feet.  

“Oh so are we, I just need to get cleaned up.” Steve groans, “Double dates are never fun, but here I am, getting pressured into this situation, again.” He walks into the cupboard retrieving a new tie without any bloodstains leaving you and Bucky alone. 

You silently plead for Steve to come back. 

“Who are you going with?” Bucky asks. He steps closer to you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.  You can feel his warmth radiating against your skin. You ignore the shivers he sends up your spin and silently curse at Bucky as butterflies explore in your stomach. 

“With Eric.” You reply, trying to will yourself out of Bucky’s grasp. 

“Is that who did this to you?” He replies softly in your ear but you notice his jaw tighten. You pull away, scrambling to find your shoes and purse. 

“I’m running late, I have to leave now. Eric is probably wondering where I am.” You shout loud enough for Steve to hear from the other room. 

“Wait sis, we will walk you. I’ll just be a minute.” Steve calls out to you.

“You can tell me, doll. I promise I won’t get Steve involved.” He pleads, searching your eyes for the truth. 

“I will see you later tonight. Don’t leave without saying goodbye to me okay?” You ignore him. You reach on your tippy-toes and place a soft gentle kiss on his cheek. 

“I’m all good Steve! Stay at least a mile away from me tonight at all times.”  You yell as you reach for the front door.

“Take care of him tonight.” You instruct Bucky as you fly out the door. It takes every bit of strength to hold in the tears that so desperately want to escape. 

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

Part Two:

The stench of the alcohol burns your tongue as Eric pulls you in for a sloppy kiss. Passer bys shoot you dirty looks as Eric continues to make a show of PDA. 

“I’m sorry about today. I won’t happen again.” He mumbles into his flask. You were currently leaning up against the fence watching the crowd play fun carnival games and dance the night away. 

You’d only been here for an hour, and so far you’d engaged in zero fun. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Bucky,  Steve and two other girls. Steve looks uncomfortable, while the blonde woman looks bored. The brunette is attached to Bucky at the hip. However, Bucky’s glances haven’t gone unnoticed. About half-an-hour ago he spotted you with Eric and has made a conscious effort to stay close ever since. The sight of him in his uniform causes tears to pool in your eyes. There was a chance he was going to die and that very thought made you want to breakdown and scream. 

“Seriously Y/N? You can’t keep your eyes off him can you?” Eric’s voice booms, as he takes another swig of his flask. “You can’t help yourself!” He gets considerably louder causing some heads to turn. 

“Eric I wasn’t-” You start.

“Don’t. Lie. To. Me.” He hisses in a tone so deadly the pit of your stomach drops. 

“Eric it’s not like that.” You begin to explain. Familiar fear creeps in. If you didn’t shut this down now, a very public scene would occur. Eric is twice your size, so any attempt of getting away is slim. He pulls you into his firm grip and tightens each time you squirm. 

“You’re a filthy bitch.” You cry out as he pushes you back into the fence. You stumble back dropping your purse. 

“Hey, that’s my sister!” You hear Steve say as he charges at Eric. You and Steve are pretty much the same in height and weight. There is no way Steve could ever take on your date. In fact, three years ago, Eric beat up your brother in one of the parking lots downtown. Steve’s face was so swollen you could barely recognise him. 

“No Steve, please. Don’t.” You scream but it’s too late. Steve is on the ground groaning in a matter of seconds. Kick after kick you desperately scream at Eric to stop. 

A few seconds pass, hearing a scuffle you blink furiously but your eyes are blinded by tears. The grunting seems to halt suddenly but you can’t seem to stop crying. This is your worst nightmare. The whole of New York, your brother and Bucky have just laid witness to your daily abuse. 

“You’ll pay for that Barnes!” Eric’s voice screams from a distance, but the only thing you can focus on is the loud pounding in your chest. 

“Hey Doll, Shh, I’m here.” A familiar voice whispers in your ear.  Your body is shaking uncontrollably as the shame sets in. Bucky’s hands fly to your face assessing the damage. “Are you hurt?” He asks, but the only reply you can manage is a whimper. “Y/N? Are you hurt?” He scans your body furiously for any injuries. 

“Y/N! What the heck was that?” Steve yells causing you to flinch. Your brother has never yelled at you in your life. “You need to explain this to me right now.” His eyes are filled to the brim with rage and his breathing ragged. You’d never seen him like this.

“Take a walk Steve, you're scaring her,” Bucky instructs as he finishes his examination. 

“No. Buck cmon!” Steve insists. 

“I said take a walk. Come back when you’ve calmed down.” Bucky says which Steve reluctantly follows. “It’s okay man, I’ve got her.” He assures. 

You watch as your brother angrily picks up your purse and stalks in the opposite direction kicking a trash can in anger. 

“Cmon beautiful let's sit down.” Bucky gently commands as he leads you over to the park bench he pulls you into his side protectively. 

“I’ve never seen Steve so mad.” You whisper glancing down at your fingers. 

“He’s just scared Y/N, he feels like he failed you as a big brother.” He sighs, as he scratches his head, “Frankly I feel like I’ve failed you as well.” 

After a moment of silence Bucky speaks up, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t want Steve to get involved. As you just saw he likes to think he can take on the world.” You mumble.

“Okay, I get why you didn’t tell Steve, but why didn’t you tell me.” He gently wipes a tear that’s managed to escape. “I would have handled this for you.”

“I don’t know,” You whisper, wishing you were anywhere other than Bucky’s accusing eyes.

“That’s not good enough Y/N, why didn’t you tell me when I asked today?” He pushes. His jaw tightens and his brows furrow. 

“Because you're leaving Buck.” You finally gain the courage to look him in the eye, “You leave tomorrow, and as soon as you leave I lose the ability to count on you. I’m not stupid. I know Steve is out there, day after day trying to get shipped off into a war zone. He will either get accepted or thrown into jail for lying on the enlistment form, so I can’t rely on him either.” You swallow back the ball of cement that seems to be lodged in your throat. “I thought I could deal with this on my own, ya know, without you because soon enough, it will just be me.” You take a deep breath, “I guess I just wanted to prove to myself I could handle this.” 

“Come here.” Bucky pulls you into a fierce hug and for just a split second all your troubles melt away. 

“I’m always going to find my way back to you Y/N. Always.” He whispers.

“Not if you die in the war.” You whimper. “What if this is the last time I ever see you.” Your heart starts to pound in your ears as horrible thoughts burn in the back of your mind.

“Hey, shh, Doll.” He hushes, “I will come back, even if I have to crawl through barb wire or walk thousands of miles without food or water just to see your pretty face. I will. I will always find my way back to you.” He presses light kisses to your bruises and pulls you in closer.  

“But I need you to promise me something.” He gently grabs your chin so you are both holding eye contact. “I need you to promise me that you won’t ever go back to him or any guy like him okay? Actually on second thought, maybe don’t go near any guy that isn’t me or Steve.” He shoots you a goofy smile and you nod causing him to let out a light chuckle. 

“I’m only half-joking about that last part.” He reassures, he takes a second to think before making his declaration, “When I get back I’m taking you on a real date Y/N, I’m going to show you what true love is.” He looks down at you, adoration shining in his eyes. “I’ll make you forget all about that scum.”

You laugh, loving the sound of that. “You’ll have to tell Steve and then get his approval first.” You joke lacing your hands in his. 

“He knows doll, he’s always known about my feelings for you,” Bucky whispers. For a second it feels like the world just stopped turning.  Your face must mirror the confusion you feel inside because Buck laughs as you try to comprehend the words he so confidently spoke. 

“You better come back to me Barnes.” You whisper as you gently kiss his lightly bruised knuckles from when he saved both you and your brother. 

Bucky was and will remain your hero. 

Apologies for changing the storyline of Bucky & Steve. And a double apology for not editing this but it’s 12am here.