#i am keeping those in storage in case i think of anything more to say and need an excsue to post it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cloudninetonine · 4 years ago

Text

A past that still haunts me

A/N: Hey guys, it's me (ya boi) I'm back with my still current hyper fixation Genshin Impact and a vent fic because I've been really stressed and well, it's hard living in my house :) It's a hurt/comfort fic because they always get to me and I needed to make something for myself

I am willing to do aftermath where the boys confront the abuser or do scenario but with different characters

Synopsis: You’re not a damsel in distress, you never have been and you never will be, but, well, sometimes you need a hero to rely on and that’s okay

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli and Childe

Warnings: Hints to past abuse, confrontation of abuser, violence, mentions of blood, threats, foul language

It had meant to be like any other menial day of an adventurer: sign in with Katheryne, complete your commissions, sign out with Katheryne with your payments - done and dusted.

But that wasn’t how it went, no, far from it - archons, so damn far from it.

“Thank you once again, (Name)” Katheryne’s smile was kind like usual, holding that familiar feeling of gratitude as she handed over your remission within a marked package, hand returning to the desk’s polished surface once you had taken it graciously, sending her a beaming grin back. “The Guild really appreciates your work ethic when it comes to the Ruin machines, it’s hard to come across adventurers who want to handle them anymore”

You sent her a shrug as you placed away the box “Can’t blame them really, they’re a hard bunch to handle- I was terrified of them when I first started too, but I had my vision to help me out, a lot of these folk only use there pure determination to eradicate them, gotta admire that!”

She laughed along with you politely “Have a good evening, (Name), I’ll see you again tomorrow?”

“Of course you will!” You backpedalled away from the guild reception, throwing the woman a polite double fingered salute as you did “Ad astra abyssoque as they say, my fair lady!”

She parrotted back her usual phrase before disappearing into the building, you walking further down the path of the city for your final activity for that day.

Of course, you didn’t reach that far, after all, it wasn’t that menial day you had expected, that you had wanted. Life was cruel sometimes, so incredibly cruel for no justified reason just for the sake of it all and you wished, archons, you wished you could rewind the clock and stop yourself from bumping into the body, to save yourself from all the repressed trauma bursting forth like a flurry of butterflies, well, more like moths, disgusting, ungodly, monster moths that aimed straight for the face.

“Sorry!” You yelped, too preoccupied with gathering your pocketwatch you had dropped in the stumble to see who it had been, after all, you were on a schedule and you didn’t want to be-

“(Name)?”

...late.

All of a sudden, time didn’t seem to exist, or maybe it was moving way too slowly from that horrid spike of adrenaline that shot into your bloodstream as soon as the voice registered.

You hoped to the Archons that it wasn’t, that it couldn’t, but did the gods hear your prayers?

“Oh Archons, it is you! It’s been such a long time!”

Of course, they did, they just didn’t care to listen. Ignoring the cries of your people were in fashion to them these days.

They stood there with a smile so excited it almost seemed to tear their face in half, with eyes sparkling with recognition after so many years away from them, they opened their arms welcoming you into their embrace like it was something just so normal for the two of you like you would come bounding to them like a lost puppy who had finally found their master.

The fear of your abuser dwarfed in comparison the pure feral rage and loathing to think that they even deserved to be breathing in the same space as you.

People were looking, of course, they were looking, you knew what they were doing, being bright and jovial, bringing others attention towards you both so that whatever scene you caused would be your fault like you were the bad guy. It was old tactics, of course, you wouldn’t dare do anything when you were younger, you’d just push through it, but this wasn’t old times, this wasn’t younger you, scared, smaller you afraid them, this was you now, a warrior, unwavering in battle, a person who smiled in the face of danger, who laughed at the pitiful fights that 2- no- 4 abyss mages brought to you!

To hell what other people thought, you’d stomp their head into the cobblestone if they had so much as poked you.

“Come here and give me a-”

You took a step back, mustering the deadliest face you could, but you wavered, it was only natural, no matter how much you could try to hype yourself up, this person was your first true experience of real-life nightmares, the first person to bring you true pain, no matter how many ruin guards, hunters, millachurls, mages- anything you faced, nothing could prepare you to face your first fear:

The fear of your older sibling.

“If you fucking touch me I’ll stab you-” The growl cracked nearing the end, you were always an angry crier but you were not about to fall back to this- this monster. “In front of all these people, I won’t hesitate”

Their face dropped followed by your stomach, though, the food you had for lunch sure did feel its way up your gullet.

“What’s with your language? We haven’t seen each other in four years and this is how you treat me? Your older sibling?” They laughed in disbelief because onlookers would think they were shocked, I mean, how could you speak to family like that? But they didn’t know, they didn’t know the words they had told you, the insults, the threats, those tight grabs, those beatings- they didn’t know, so they obviously didn’t know that the shock came from the fact that you had stood up to them.

You licked your lips to get rid of the dryness, but the problem you faced was that your mouth had dried out along with them, as did your throat.

Don’t let them turn this on you, don’t let them get the upper hand, you were better than them, so much better.

“You’re not my fucking sibling” You spat, feeling the air vibrate around you, a sudden shine from your cloak hinted you to the cause “You haven’t been for a long time, don’t fucking try that shit with me”

There it was, that familiar enraged spark, that look of hatred on their face, the thing that warned you about what you said had been the right thing to set them off, that they were just as easily triggered by the smallest act of rebellion just like when you were kids.

Of course, they hadn’t changed.

Evil never did.

They took a step forward but you didn’t back off, just hardened your resolve as they leaned in menacingly, as though their stupid little intimidation tactic still worked after all these years.

You told yourself it didn’t but you knew deep down that wasn’t completely true.

“Don’t speak to me like that, (Name)” Facade gone, they showed you what they really were, what they were really like after all, “Don’t you ever speak to me like that, you show me fucking respect”

Respect?

RESPECT!?

Oh Archons, you were angry, no, seething from the thought that they ever deserved respect.

That pathetic piece of shit, that gruelling pleb, mere gum on the bottom of your damn shoe-

You’d kill them, right here, right now.

You felt the familiar materialisation begin to form in your hand when another voice called out, a familiar loving one that nearly made your throat swell from relief.

“(Name)?”

Diluc

He could sense the tension. Of course, he could sense the tension, Diluc had faced this tension so many times before, he was practically the one that owned such a vibe anytime Kaeya even breathed near him for a second longer than necessary.

But being the one to witness it, to see you, the usual awkward, goofy sweetheart stare at another with such overbearing malice made him uneasy, caused his stomach to churn in ways he didn’t like, set him off in a way that was only reserved for the most chilling on moments.

Diluc wondered what exactly this stranger had done to warrant such a reaction from you.

“(Name)?” The redhead called, glancing around the many citizens of Mondstadt that watched the exchange with intrigue, guard and worry, eyes focused on the scene of this foreign stranger and fuming you, hand poised by your side with weapon particles dancing on your palm.

When Diluc finally made it over, his form seemed to curl protectively around you, hand landing on the small of your back delicately while keeping face with the person, eyes narrowed dangerously but still holding an air of civilness.

A true gentleman, even when you were close to merking some rando.

“Is there a problem?”

The stranger straightened immediately, backing up a few steps with their hands up in defence, sending Diluc a charming smile that the man could see through crystal clear.

“No problem, no problem at all” They glanced back at you, seemingly friendly despite his partner’s obvious ill intent that radiated off you in waves “Isn’t that right, (Name)?”

Diluc saw you tense up once again, the buzz from your Vision rising in volume with your obvious anger as you tightened your first, ready to just screw your weapon and go for the throat.

“If that is the case” The noble’s hand softly pressed against your back, gently but coaxing, knowing that conflict in the middle of the town centre would just bring the knights to meddle in affairs that they had no business attending “Then we shall be going”

“There’s no need to leave, after all, my sibling and I were just chatting”

He paused, shouldering a questioning glance your way but at the sight of your unruly expression, he pushed down his enquiries and once again began coaxing you away from the scene. Angel’s Share had already been open for a while, meaning the usual folk would already be settled in, but the storage room was sure to be a good place to chat and to calm you down, all he needed to do was get you away.

“We already had plans” The side glance had the stranger- your sibling, biting their tongue, brows furrowing in a known annoyance as the two of you began your way towards the pub, you still vibrating in anger. “Good day to you”

The two of you had made it a few feet when they called out once again “Don’t worry, (Name), I’ll see you again real soon”

Diluc’s arm tightened around you faster than you could react, tugging you away quickly “Diluc-”

“No, (Name)”

“Stay out-”

“Not here” Sharing a look, he softened at the shine in your eyes. “You’ll just attract the knights' attention”

You didn’t care, no, not one bit. If the knights had dared to interfere at that moment, they too would have been caught up in your blinded revenge, thrown aside or slashed down without single care just to finally eradicate the bane of your existence and you didn’t care about what consequences you brought about, you just didn’t and you made sure to tell Diluc that, as soon as you had the privacy of Angel’s Share’s storeroom, pacing up and down while he stood off to the side against the wall, watching silently.

“You had no right to get in my way!” You snapped, voice shaking from the pure emotions you were releasing “I finally had my chance, I was finally going to do it! They deserve to end by my hand, by my decision, after the years of torture they put me through! They deserved it! And you got in my way! How could you get in my way! I-”

Pushing off the wall, he slowly advanced towards you, carefully, hands out like he was approaching a wounded animal.

“I understand you’re upset-”

“I’m not upset!” You cried at him, stopping mid-step before dropping your head and tightly, grabbing your hair in your hands “I’m not upset! I’m angry! I’m so fucking angry! And I deserve to be fucking angry! I-”

The sob ripped through your throat despite you trying to hold it back, tears finally gathering in your eyes and rapidly falling down your cheeks “You should have let me kill them! I should have had the chance to rid the world of their evil! It’s not fair! It’s not- it’s not fair, I-”

You didn’t bother to fight him when his arms finally wrapped around you, just fell against him as you wept. The pent up rage, fear and sadness from years of repression taking its toll as you cried, your partner whispering sweet words as he raked his hand through your hair gently and leaned his head against yours.

“I’m sorry” His hand held your cheek fondly, ruby red staring back into your own eyes with a softness that made you melt “I didn’t know this meant so much to you, but if you’re willing to tell me, I’ll listen. I’ll always listen”

With another choked sob, you leaned into his hold “Please just hold me for now”

And he did just that.

Kaeya

The captain had promised to meet you at his office, a simple task really but with the lingering presence of Jean and the words ‘There’s so much work that needs to be done’ leaving her lips he bolted, hoping to catch you by the Guild and drag you to Angel Share for your date. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help her, it was just he had already promised you this night and Eula could have always taken his place with paperwork, her threat of “vengeance” as she liked to call it could wait for another day.

It was also due to the fact he had no intentions of filing any paperwork for as long as he could avoid it, but that was his secret to be kept.

Being the perspective man he was, he could tell straight away he had walked into something tense, surveying the surrounding people of Mondstadt who looked on in concern, the unbridled rage upon your face, the obviously intimidating lean that the stranger held over you- something was wrong and he knew he had to put a stop to it.

“(Name)?” You glanced for a single moment before your furious glare had returned to the stranger, another flag waving right in his face as he approached, “My dear? Who might this be?”

Before you could snap, lip curling in disgust, the stranger stood back to their full height, switching quickly with a fake charming smile that practically mirrored his own, holding out their hand towards him “(S/N) (Last), (Name)’s older sibling. it’s nice to meet you”

Kaeya’s smile widened and despite the glare from you that was now focused on him, he shook your sibling's hand in-kind “Kaeya Alberich, (Name)’s partner-”

He made sure to tighten his grip with his last words “And Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius”

Successfully, as he always was, Kaeya held back the smug, mocking grin that itched to climb onto his face when the neck of your sibling bobbed nervously, forehead reflecting the afternoon light as sweat gathered on their brow.

The man hadn’t obviously threatened them, surely, Kaeya was smarter than that, but then again, he could still present himself as a threat, a good one and well, his title was a menacing one when it came to the right moment. ‘Try anything and not only do I have the authority to kick your arse but the power to put you in a place many didn’t dare even step’ shortened into an innocent sentence with only 8 words.

“Cavalry Captain? That’s quite impressive” They laughed off, tugging away their hand awkwardly when Kaeya continued to keep a firm grip, his present eye focused solely on your siblings face. They glanced over to you “Quite an achievement for you, aye (Name)?”

You growled, “I’ll show you an achievement-”

Kaeya’s arm had wrapped around your waist not a second later, tugging you tighter to his side as the two of you turned, the man throwing your sibling a smile over his shoulder.

“As nice as it was to meet you, (S/B), we must be going”

And then without another word Kaeya dragged you away, heading in the direction of your home instead of Angel Share tavern, feeling your pure, unfiltered anger the whole way along with the citizens as they parted ways, rushing off from your rage.

It was only when you had returned to the sanctuary of your abode did you snap, jerking away from your boyfriend with angered strides and beginning your seething lecture towards him, moving up and down through the living room while he ventured off into the kitchen, grabbing 2 glasses and a bottle of wine.

“How dare you Kaeya! How fucking dare you! Do you have any idea what you were doing back there!? What was even happening back there!? So much for being the most observant man in Mondstadt because you seemed pretty dense to me the whole fucking time!” Your hands raked through your hair as you yelled, trying so hard to hold back the tears “I didn’t need your damn help, Kaeya! Nor did I fucking want it! Know to stay out of someone's business when it isn’t wanted!”

Logically you knew what he had done, you were smart like that and you knew Kaeya long enough to know what he was doing but your rage, fear and sadness blocked out everything in that moment, made you blind to reality, made you only think irrationally and Kaeya didn’t blame you for that. He could never blame you for that.

Though, it did hurt him to see you in this state.

“Wine?”

You gawked at him for a moment, staring at him with shock and confusion as he held out a wine glass towards you, another held in his other hand and a sweet smile plastered on his face, before your moment morphed into rage, grabbing the drink from his hand and tossing it towards the wall, the red wine splattering over the wallpaper and glass shards falling to the floor.

“Well, that was a waste-”

“Do you think I’m an idiot, Kaeya!?” You cried, not even bothering to hold back anymore as the tears fell and your voice cracked, hand pointing accusingly in his face “Is this some kind of joke to you!? Huh!? Am I a fool in your eyes!? Some sort of blubbering idiot!? Why must you- why do you-”

The second glass was placed on the dresser by you both, Kaeya’s hand coming to hold your cheek fondly while the other came to grab your hand that dangled in the air, still poised at him “I don’t think you're either of those, my dear, in fact, I think you’re one of the brightest in the whole of Teyvat, nevermind Mondstadt”

You hiccuped “Then why-”

Brushing away the wetness from your cheek, he brought your hand to his mouth to place a fond kiss on your palm “Because you mustn’t cry, (Name), don’t waste your tears on someone like them”

“I’m not crying, I’m-”

He shushed you gently and you finally relaxed, falling into his embrace with a heavy heart “-I’m not, I swear-”

Within the familiarity of your home, you wept in his arms, exhausted from the whirlwind of emotions and the scenes that had transpired that day, ready to just curl into yourself and try to block the flooding memories of history. Although, having Kaeya at that moment helped more than he could ever know, having him to rely on made it all so much easier to cope with that day.

“Tell me what ails you and I’ll listen” Brushing back some hair, he pressed a kiss to your head.

“Can..can we just stay like this for a while?”

“Of course, my dear”

Zhongli

He had sensed the incoming danger like it had been revealed in some sort of premonition. Maybe it had been a skill he had acquired after his long, eventful life, maybe it was his connection to Liyue and his citizens, but for some reason, as he sat before Iron Tongue Tian as the man recalled his tales of ancient Liyue like usual, Zhongli knew that the crowd that was forming around Wamin Restaurant had something that he need urgently attend, especially when even Tian paused his story to glance around the corner of the restaurant building to see the commotion.

When the archon had finally borne witness to the scene, he paused within the crowd, surveying the surroundings carefully. You were the centre of attention, along with another stranger, both glaring at one another with anger and disgust, though your own anger seemed to double compared to the other’s, seeing as your weapon was slowly materialising in your grip. Zhongli could also see Guild Master Lan making her way down the steps leading to the Guild reception, a worried expression on her face glancing between you and the approaching Millelith.

Zhongli made his decision, politely pushing through the crowd until he had finally made it by your side, hand being placed gently on your arm “(Name)?”

Both you and the stranger glanced at him, but he paid no mind to them, only held eye contact with you when Lan appeared by your other side, glaring at the stranger with a hardened gaze.

“Are you harassing my guild member?”

Before the stranger could respond, the Millelith had also popped in, glancing between you and them “Is there a problem?”

Zhongli had taken up your view when Lan began her take, she had borne witness for much longer than he had of course and he was certain that you were in no state to talk to the guards. Your eyes were glazed with hatred, pupils pinpricks in a sea of (E/C) and your hands were shaking, balled into fists.

If anything, he needed to try and calm you down first.

“Get the hell out of my way, Zhongli” Your teeth ground together, words shaking with anger “Don’t push yourself into my business”

“I’m sorry, my love, but I can’t do that” He tried brushing your cheek but you jerked away, glaring at his hand before glaring back at him, in no mood to be coddled “I don’t want you to do something you’d regret”

“Trust me, I won’t regret this one bit”

Zhongli held his tongue for the question that almost rolled out, knowing now wasn’t the time for inquiries when the stranger’s voice rang out, condescending and snarky as they addressed you.

“Still need people to protect you, aye (Name)? Of course, you’re still the same pathetic bitch from years ago”

You were lucky for your reputation around Liyue, for the picture of the kind and caring adventurer that had swept through the town from your years of living here because had it not been for that, you pushing aside your boyfriend and materialising your weapon to aim it at your sibling’s throat would have had you in cuffs that instant.

Lan grabbed you, tugging you away as you screamed “I’ll show you pathetic you fucker! Let me go!”

The Millelith didn’t wait to drag your sibling away, much to their cries of dismay, one sending Lan a nod while you continued to fight against her, crying out in frustration.

“Kid, you have to calm down-”

“Calm down!? No! Get the hell off me!”

Zhongli watched as you finally broke away, huffing and puffing up a storm before glancing amongst the crowd, staring at their worried and concerned faces, your own eyes tearing up before you looked away pushing past the crowd to find somewhere to be alone.

When Lan went to call out for you, Zhongli raised his hand, the two sharing a look before the archon made his way after you, his longer legs keeping a steady pace to which he could catch up to you, just beyond the bridge that led into Liyue Harbour. There were no people where you stood, just the lush green plants and great mountains of nature, a perfect place for you to let out your frustration without the prying eyes of the citizens.

“(Name)-”

“Leave me alone!” You cried, curling into yourself with your back turned to him “I don’t want you here, Zhongli! Nor did I want you back there! I didn’t need your or anyone else's help!”

You knew he was here from a place of concern, and deep down you begged that your words didn’t harm him in any way, but currently, you didn’t care, you didn’t want to care, you just wanted to be numb, numb to the flashbacks of your horrid past and numb to the feelings that were dragged along with them.

“My love, please, return with me to our home, I will brew some calming tea-”

“Tea? Tea!? Does it look like I want any fucking tea?! I couldn’t care any less about some fucking tea, Zhongli!” Spinning around on your heels, you scowled at him, not bothering to hide your rushing tears “Don’t you get it!? I want to be left alone, I-”

Two gloved hands gently encased your face, your angered expression morphing into one of shock as your partner stared down at you with glowing eyes filled with a deep-rooted love, affection, worry and so much more that you couldn’t put into mere mortal words. At that moment, everything felt as if it had melted away, only you and him were in this world, nothing else, just the two of you.

And you felt as though your heart had been lifted from the pressures of this life.

“I do not think it is best for you to be left alone” His baritone voice was always so calming, so serene and in your sane moment, you finally felt its effects “I wish to stay with you, so please, let me stay”

With a whimper, you grabbed onto his forearms and leaned your face into his hands, tears continuing to fall as your eyes fluttered shut “Okay…”

“They have hurt you deeply, haven’t they?”

Hesitantly, you nodded.

“Would you be so kind as to tell me the details?”

“I-...” Sharing eye contact once again, you whispered “Can- can you just...hold me for now? Please”

Moving his hands from your face, he engulfed you in his arms, leaning his head against yours “Of course”

Childe

The Harbinger had just left the Northland Bank, hell, he was just about to make his way down the spiral staircase but when hearing the commotion, he paused, something in his gut telling him to check just before and he was glad he did.

Glancing over the elevated walkway, he felt a fiery pit roar in the depths of his stomach, eyes narrowing dangerously at the scene; you were snarling in some other person’s face, their own face nothing short of disgust and a crowd that only seemed to grow by the minute.

Who the hell did this person think they were? Did they even know who you were? To stand so close to you, with a look of threat on their face like you weren’t about to kick their arse? Like he wasn’t about to kick their arse? How did this insignificant speck of dross not know your connections with him, the 11th Harbinger? Or did he know and was just trying his luck?

“Seems like someone has a death wish” And a death wish they had indeed.

Ignoring the perplexed glance from his subordinate stationed outside the building's entrance, Childe made his way down the steps, murderous look stitched on the whole way to the circle of civilians, the mass parting ways for the man that was Tartaglia and continuing to watch the moment in silence.

“Who the hell are you-” You both turned towards him, you in shock while the stranger stared in confusion until Childe’s hand wrapped around their collar, tugging them closer to look down at them with a deep-rooted disgust “-And why the hell are you harassing my partner?”

They fought against him, obviously, they did, but the surprise came when you saddled up next to him, grabbing his arm “Stay out of this, Tartaglia”

What? It hadn't been your request, no, you were always one to finish your whole fights you weren't "A damsel in distress after all!" no, you were so much more, so much greater but that look on your face, murderous and downright cruel- he just couldn't believe his ears.

Childe stared at you in shock while the stranger struggled, throwing him a dirty look in their attempts “Yeah, this is between my sibling and I”

Childe straightened in surprise, feeling embarrassment flood his system. Had he seriously just grabbed and threatened his lover’s family member? Oh, Archons, his judgement had been clouded by anger at the look of the scene, I mean, why would your sibling look at you that way-

“But it’s really no surprise that you still need to be babied, (Name), how shameful”

His eyes widened but not a moment later had you tackled your sibling, the crowd crying out in alarm as you threw back your fist and crushed their nose under the weight of your punch. “I’ll show you fucking shameful, bastard!”

There was shouting and a glance showed the oncoming Millelith marching towards the circle.

Being Fatui always did garner the attention of the guards nowadays, especially for him, who had tried to lure out the attention of their Archon by summoning an ancient god that nearly drowned the entirety of the harbour, so it was no surprise that they seemed to hurry in the pursuit when they noticed his appearance at the scene. However, lucky for him, your reputation as a great adventurer preceded you and throughout Liyue you were seen as a trusted and well-liked individual, meaning whatever trouble you got in, containing his meddling or not, was usually waved away due to the trust of the people.

So, without another thought, Childe tugged you off of your bloodied sibling and held you close, even as you thrashed violently, shouting at him to let you go.

“What is going on here?” A guard called, slamming the hilt of his polearm into the ground as he surveyed the area, eyes landing on the sibling before following the small trail of blood to you, still fighting against your boyfriend with threats falling from your lips “Was there a reason for this brawl? Who started it?”

As your sibling raised themselves on their forearms, they scowled and opened their mouth to respond, only for Childe to put in. “It was them, sir, they were the one that started it, (Name) was merely acting in self-defence”

The Millelith scowled at him, raising a brow and once again looking you over “Is that so?”

He addressed the crowd soon after “Is this what happened?”

And as expected, they all glanced over the sibling, then to you and piped up in agreement. It paid to be a hero, it seemed, the whole harbour returning the favour of years of helping out the community.

“If that’s the case, please come with us” The sibling cried out, anger and fear laced into their voice, trying to argue for their innocence only for the guards to grab them, hauling them away to archons know where while Childe did the same with you, slowly dragging you away from the scene and back into the bank, you screaming and cursing the whole way until you had made it to his office, finally managing to push him off and storming to the opposite side of the room practically seething.

“Who the hell do you think you are, Tartaglia!?” You cried, throwing out your arms in exaggeration “I didn’t need your fucking help! And why the fuck would you pull me off them!? I had them right where I wanted them and you fucking did that! Are you a moron!?”

“You had a sibling” He breathed, watching as you began to pace, muttering in an angered state “And you didn’t tell me”

“-after all these years I finally had the chance to end their pathetic excuse of a life and you just got in my fucking way! I’d waited too long for this moment and you fucking ruined it! How dare you, how fucking dare you-”

“(Name), why didn’t you tell me you had a sibling!?” He cried, walking up to you and grabbing your wrist to stop you “I was ready to kill them right there! And why are you talking about them like this!? They’re your family aren’t they-”

“They are not my fucking family!”

The scream echoed through the room, chilling Childe to the core as you ripped your arm from his grasp, running your hands through your hair before gripping it so tightly it felt close to being ripped from your head. But you didn’t care, no, you couldn’t, you were so angry and you needed something to keep you grounded, to keep yourself from losing yourself and getting lost in those haunting past memories.

The Harbinger felt his chest squeeze painfully as the tears fell down your face, red rimming your eyes and cheeks wet as you sobbed, chest heaving from trying to breathe “Family takes care of you! Family thinks of you in the highest light possible! They love you for who you are and they love you no matter what! That bastard hurt me, made me feel worthless and they refuse to believe they could do no wrong and I hate them! They are the bane of my existence! They are not my fucking family! I hate them, I hate them, I hate them, I-”

Arms were around you instantly, Childe’s face pressed into your hair as you wept, grasping onto the lapels of his suit and shoving your face into his chest to muffle your cries.

“I’m sorry” He whispered, his own eyes shining slightly “I’m sorry, I was being insensitive. Please, don’t cry”

“No, I’m not crying, I promised myself I wouldn’t-” You hiccuped “I wouldn’t waste any more tears on them-”

Then you broke off into more wails, your boyfriend holding you close and letting you continue to cry in his arms, warm and comforting until you were finally reduced to whimpers, leaning into him heavily as the remaining adrenaline in your body began to wear thin when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Will...will you tell me about it?”

You sniffed “Later...just hold me for now, please, Ajax...”

His arms tightened protectively “Anything for you, my love”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact diluc x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact kaeya #genshin impact kaeya x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact childe #genshin impact childe x reader #childe x reader #genshin impact tartaglia #genshin impact tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x reader

466 notes · View notes

coinandcandle · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! I’m a bit of a novice witch (Finally learned the bare basics, phew that was alot of reading.) and had a small question, what are the different types of altars? Im aware they’re is deity altars but overheard some girls calling their crystal shelves altars.

I adore your page and it has helped me tons on my mountain of research to do!

XOXO <3

Howdy~!

First of all, thank you so much for your sweet words <3 I'm happy if my page can help people further their own research!!

Honestly this may not be the answer you're looking for but the possibilities for types of altars are kind of...infinite? in a sense.

I say this because the common definition of an altar is that it's a table or surface (i.e. a shelf) that is dedicated to some sort of religious or spiritual practice, often where offerings or sacrifices would take place.

This definition is slightly different in most modern witch circles, but the idea is the same: It's where you place your witchy stuff or do witchy things.

So while there are altars for deities, as you mentioned, many witches also have their own personal altars that they use in their practice! In this case, it's likely a place where they might burn incense, make spells, prepare ingredients, use divination tools, and so much more.

Of course it would be wrong of me not to mention that in some cultures, as well as some folk's personal practices, people will have altars set up for loved ones who have passed. This can be used as a way to honor them or keep their spirit alive. These can look similar to how you think a deity altar would look, often with a photo of the loved one and perhaps an offering like incense or food.

There are digital altars as well for those who don't have the space, time, or energy to have physical altars. I don't have one since I am lucky enough to have two shelves dedicated to each of the deities I follow, but I think they're a wonderful idea! Though I know that there are other tumblr witches who have delved into that area of altars, so feel free to comment links below if you have a posts on digital altars.

Basically: In modern witchcraft an altar is a place for witches to work their magic or are used to place offerings meant for metaphysical beings; gods, spirits, demons, (whatever you fancy).

The things to place on your altar are entirely up to you and should be based on your intuition and your own craft, though asking for guidance from other witches or taking inspiration from other witches is encouraged especially for newer witches.

Some of the more common items are:

Candles

Iconography of the deity or spirit the altar is dedicated to (if there is one) such as a statue, painting, drawing, etc.

Crystals or metals

Some sort of cup, bowl, or any container that can hold liquid for libations

Incense holder

Anything you would like to offer to the deity or spirit if there is one

If it's a workbench-type altar, you can put herbs, oils, or other objects you may often use in your practice

I will say that it would be a little strange to me that these folks considered a shelf of crystals an altar if they are using those shelves as storage but of course there could be more to it than that and we just don't have that context.

You altar can be whatever you make it, it's like a work bench for witches!

I hope this was helpful, I know sometimes with answers like this it leaves you with more questions. If you have anymore go ahead and send them my way and I will try to answer them to the best of my abilities or I will give you the resources needed to learn on your own! :)

#altars #altar #types of altar #witchcraft #witchy ask #ask me #witch

33 notes · View notes

popopretty · 4 years ago

Text

Storm Bringer Spoilers (4)

Another part from CODE;04, before the final battle, where I think Dazai actually showed some genuine concerns for Chuuya. It is interesting to read. I generally enjoy it when Dazai acts more human like this.

Feel free to re-translate it if you want. Just remember that I am not fluent in either English or Japanese and there might be mistakes here and there.

...

Deeper into the night. The destruction’s footstep is approaching the city.

The entrance of the highway on the outskirt of the city was crushed by the Demonic Beast Guivre. The bridge that supports the road, the direction signs, the median strips in the middle, all crushed in an instant. It happened so fast that hardly any sound was made. The passing vehicles witnessed that. They ignored the lane and turned around to run away. The Demon Beast turned towards them and spat out gravity lines. All the vehicles disappeared without a trace. Together with their entire surroundings.

Chuuya and Dazai gazed at the Demon Beast Guivre that was approaching them like that.

The place they were standing was on top of a large spherical gas storage tank. That was a tank set up in the suburbs to store gas for the city. Its top workbench is even higher than the skyscrapers around the area. They can see the face of the beast waking fast towards them in almost the same horizontal level.

“I guess it is about 30 minutes until Yokohama downtown is turned into a mess.” Dazai idly said while looking at the beast.

“That’s not something we are going to see.” Chuuya said, holding the hat in his hand. “By that time we have already either blown away that thing, or died.”

“Gosh, no way! Double-suiciding with Chuuya is the worst. For once, let’s do it seriously.”

“Fine by me. I don’t feel like dying either. I still have to become an executive before you and order you around.”

“Oh? That’s quite some confidence you’ve got there. That jewelry business? I heard it’s going well?”

“The like of you will never be able to catch up. Our jewelry distribution channel, including carriers, pawnbrokers and appraisers, is number one in Yokohama.”

“Yeah, I know that. I was in charge of that before Chuuya took over, that’s why.”

“What?”, Chuuya looked at Dazai, surprised. “That means the first person who set up that distribution channel was actually you???”

“Leave that for now. It is about time it comes within striking distance.” Dazai pointed ahead with his chin. The foot steps of the Demonic Beast Guivre got closer. Its crimson eyes looked straight at them. Chuuya gazed at the beast for a while, then he looked up and shouted.

“Dazai’s used stuff! hand-me-down, huh?”

“Whatever.”

The giant beast trampled on the roadside trees and tore down the power lines. The signboards and abandoned bicycles were lifted off the ground as a result of gravity anomaly and crushed into tiny dust in the air.

”Remembered the plan?”

“Yeah.”

Chuuya and Dazai stood side by side, facing the giant beast. Their clothes fluttered under the high wind.

“What you have to keep in mind is that this plan is not foolproof. We don’t know what is going to happen. After all, we are going to hit the Demonic Beast Guivre with Arahabaki. I won’t be surprised even if the world is blown away.”

“Like it will!” Chuuya said. “Verlaine survived such thing nice years ago.”

The plan Dazai came up with.

In that plan, Chuuya would open his “gate” and hit the giant beast with Arahabaki’s infinite energy.

“We already know the method to open Chuuya’s “gate”. It’s the control spell that N has said: “Oh grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again”. With that, the sealing command will be reset. We will not be able to open the “gate” just by doing that, but that hat will help us.”

The hat that Chuuya was holding was the one that Verlaine had worn. That was gifted to him by Rimbaud, with a piece of ability metal embedded inside. With that, the person who wears it, in this case Chuuya, would be able control the “gate” by his will. Verlaine being able to freely open the “gate” by himself and using the Black Hole power, were all thanks to that hat.

“It’s almost time. Chuuya will jump from here, open the “gate” in front of that monster, and hit it with the power.” Dazai lifted the radio with one hand while looking at the beast. “So I’m going to send an order to my men to prepare for action… Is that okay?”

“Of course it is okay.” Chuuya turned to Dazai. “Why are you asking me such a thing?”

Dazai didn’t answer right away.

That was an unusual expression. It’s like he was trying to say something, but had to arrange the words in his head to decide where he should start. An expression that Dazai rarely shows.

“There is one problem.” Dazai cut off the sentence hesitantly. “It has nothing to do with the success rate of the plan. It is a matter we have to overcome in the end but... it may require some time to decide.“

“What’s with you?”, Chuuya raised his eyebrows at Dazai. “Stop dramatizing it. Hurry up and say it”

“I said earlier about the control spell to open the “gate”. That is used to reset the command formula inside Chuuya, right?” Dazai spoke with a strangely restrained voice. “If we use that, the logs of the command formula that were written in the past will also be erased. That means…. even if the memory erasure command was used on Chuuya in the past, the traces of that will be erased as well.”

“What?”

“I told you before right, the “memory erasure command”. The only way to confirm if Chuuya is a human or not is to check the history to see if the memory erasure command was ever used. It means…” Dazai looked at Chuuya with eyes that he had never looked at him before. Those eyes were serious. “If we use that control spell, the method to confirm whether Chuuya is an artificial personality created by a string of code, or just a normal human being, will be lost. For good.”

The time stopped.

Chuuya opened his eyes and turned towards Dazai, but his eyes were not seeing anything. The wind blew between the two of them. Even so, Chuuya did not blink.

“Verlaine became like that because he was tormented by the curse that he was not human. That only is enough of a big problem. The matter of being human or not.” Dazai took out his pocket watch, gave it a glance then continued. “I can delay the time until the plan starts for about two minutes. I will send an order to my men to wait… You can think about it alone for a while. Cuz I guess it’s hard for you to collect your thoughts with me around.”

Having said so, Dazai turned away and walked towards the stairs, leaving Chuuya alone.

Dazai’s eyes were fixed on the his pocket watch. Two more minutes. Too short for a life decision. But he couldn’t afford more than that.

Inside Dazai’s head, he was planning the procedure to switch to an alternative plan in case Chuuya refused, at a tremendous speed.

After six steps, Dazai reached the stair. He stepped on the stair and started walking down. Three steps down the stair, he heard a *clang*, a cool sound of metal echoing behind him. It sounds like the metal was kicked by the sole of someone’s shoes. The moment he realized what that sound was, Dazai turned around in surprise.

There was already no one at the top.

Dazai was dazed for a moment, then he loosened his lips and laughed.

“Trying to act cool, huh?”, Dazai smiled, both annoyed and relieved. Then he turned to his radio and sent out his order. “Chuuya has sallied. Everyone, get ready for battle.”

....

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #storm bringer #spoilers #bsd spoilers #dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya

545 notes · View notes

pukanavis · 3 years ago

Text

Technoroid Main story: Chapter 1 Part 1 “An Unexpected Encounter”

Denta: Heya, everyone! Welcome to Japan’s biggest entertainment tower, “Babel”!

I’m the Navi AI “Denta”! It’s nice to meet both you and your friends!

ー”Babel” is the symbol of a new era and a new paradise! It’s the tower of intellect where hope and aspiration intersect!

Today we have more “Climbers” aiming to reach the top! What could it be that lies at the summit? Is it a dream!? Is it an illusion!?

Whether you want to participate or just watch, Babel is always waiting for new friends!

We’re accepting new participants 24/7 down in the Climber’s Lobby!

Ah, also! Denta-kun official goods are being sold at all hours of the day too! Buy Now!

♡　♡　♡

Alto: ーSensei…! Esora-Sensei!

Esora: Alto, are you keeping up?

Alto: Y-Yes! This place is surprisingly complicated…

Esora: That’s due to Babel’s intricate construction. It’s easy to get lost backstage if you aren’t familiar with it.

Alto: Definitely. If I didn’t have you here, Sensei, I would have gotten lost immediately…

…

Esora: Alto?

Alto: Even here, you can still hear people singing…it’s very busy.

Thank you, once again. I know it's a big favour to ask for, yet you still let me come along...

Esora: Is this is your first time at “Babel”?

Alto: No, I’ve been here a number of times as a member of the audience, but I’ve never gone behind the scenes like this before…

I was really surprised to find out you had a staff pass for “Babel”, Sensei.

Esora: It’s no big deal. I’m just the exclusive engineer for certain Climbers. It's not as if I'm a part of the administration or anything.

Alto: But that alone is incredible too! Not only are you a world-class figure in the world of robotics…

You’re also the exclusive technician for “Babel’s” Top Climbers, “STAND-ALONE”...!

Esora: You speak too highly of me. Those guys are the incredible ones, not me.

Anyhow, we should hurry along. You’re here to study today, correct?

Alto: Of course! As your star pupil, I'll make good use of this opportunity to watch you work up close!

♡　♡　♡

Alto: Ah, Sensei? …Esora-Sensei?

Oh dear…I’ve really gotten myself lost. I need to find him quickly…!

I’ll use my smart device…ah! It’s out of charge…

♡　♡　♡

Alto: This is…a storage warehouse? It’s dark, I can barely seeー

Alto: …!! These are androids…!?

Dialogue Option: "What are they doing here?"

Alto: What’re they doing at the back of a warehouse…? Hmm, actually…

…They’re in quite good shape…

If they’re just out-of-order…I wonder if I could fix them.

(Agh, no no, what am I thinking? I shouldn’t touch things without permission!)

(I don’t have the time for this in the first place…)

…But maybe I can just have a little look…

Besides…Esora-Sensei would never neglect a broken android…!

It’s strange. It doesn't look like there's anything wrong with them, and yet…

Why aren’t they booting up? I’ll try sending them another signal.

(Stay calm…focus, focus. I passed my Repair Technician exam last year so I should be able to do this.)

(...Esora-Sensei…)

(When he’s focused, he tends hums to himself. He said it helps with maintaining his compsure.)

(If it’s something I’ve learned from him, then surelyー)

…~♪

???: !

Alto: Uwah!? They activated all of a sudden…!?

???: …

Alto: Are you alright? Can you understand me?

???: …?

Alto: …Uhh.

Oh, that’s right, names! Could you tell me your names?

Cobalt: Unique identifierー CO-0728HS/ Cobalt.

Chrom: CR-0904HS/ Chrom.

Kei: SI-0111HS/ Kei

Neon: NE-0419HS/ Neon

Alto: My name is Alto. Why were the four of you inactive in a place like this?

Cobalt: …I don’t…know…

Alto: You don’t know��? You're saying you don’t remember…?

(Perhaps something has malfunctioned in their memory space? Anyhow, I can’t efficiently investigate here…I need to find Esora-Sensei…!)

If that’s the case, I know an incredible technician. Let’s try asking him to examine you!

We'll go speak with him…it’s just, I don’t know where he is…

Cobalt: …?

Alto: Hmm~ the least we could do is head out to the lobby.

Cobalt: Lobby…? Babel.

Alto: Eh, what!? Where are you all going!?

W-Wait~!

♡　♡　♡

Alto: …We've made it to the lobby without any issues…

Cobalt: …

Alto: I think we’ll be able to meet up with Esora-Sensei soon from here. This way, everyone.

Navi Denta: 【Warning】Urgent message from the Bronze Climb Stage, VR Audience 16.

Alto: Huh?

Cobalt: …?

Navi Denta: Unable to confirm preparation for registered participant “Mechanica Metallica”.

3 minutes until the performance commences. If the scheduled time is not met then the unit in question will receive an automatic disqualification. The entry fee will be forfeited.

Alto: (Looks like the Climbers haven’t shown up for some reason. I wonder if something happened…?)

Anyhow…everyone! We need to find Esora-Sensei quicklyー

Navi Denta: 【Accept】Arrival of【４】particpants confirmed. I will show you to the stage.

Alto: Huh, what’re you doingー!?

Cobalt: Babel…stage…

We’re…at Babel…!

Alto: …!

…I couldn’t stop them…

(Just now…it looked as if his eyes were saying “I want to join”…)

♡　♡　♡

Navi Denta: Preparation complete. “Mechanica Metallica” the stage is yours.

Cobalt: ーThat’s wrong…

Navi Denta: ? The registration data says “Metallic Hollic” by “Mechanica Metallica”ー

Chrom: I…

Kei: We…

Neon: …Our song, isー

Cobalt: ー"IDempty"

(They begin to perform)

The 4 of them: ー!!

Alto: ーSuch a rating at a Bronze…it’s incredible…!

This is the kind of performance you’d see from a Top Climber…!

Cobalt: …

…Huh?

♡　♡　♡

Cobalt: Ah…

Alto: Well done, everyone! That was fantastic!

Cobalt: Ah, you think so? Thanks! I don’t really get what’s going on though!

Alto: !?

Kei: My memory space doesn’t seem to be working right…where am I? What am I doing here?

Chrom: Hm. From the looks of it, it appears that we’re at an entertainment facility. A notably large one, at that.

Neon: …What a pain.

Alto: (A-Aren’t they acting completely different from earlier…!?)

Um…Cobalt?

Cobalt: Yep, that’s me! Hey, how’d you know my name?

Alto: Ah, you told me earlier…but more importantly!

You guys are the same four people that were on stage…right? Aren’t you acting differently…?

The 4 of them:...

Cobalt: …Was that a thing I did?

Kei: I don’t recall…

Chrom: It appears that we’ve been operating on a half-sleep mode. It’s similar to what humans refer to as “sleepwalking”, correct?

Neon: …Really, what a pain. I wanna sleep…

(Neon falls to the ground)

Cobalt: Ah, Neon! You can’t sleep here~!

Alto: …Eh.

Ehhh~...!?

#technoroid

20 notes · View notes

inknopewetrust · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, I was wondering if i could request either javier peña or din djarin ship/x reader oneshot type thing? Mostly just (one of) them comforting reader who has really low confidence and doesn't believe they are good at anything. x x

Little Miss Perfect

Pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Word Count:1.3k

Warnings: language. Don’t doubt your abilities loves–you are more than capable of doing anything you set your mind to.

A/N: thanks for the request Anon! Sorry for the long wait, these things just take a bit of time! Ah, how I missed writing for Javi. Did you know Javi was the first character that mustered up a following for me on here? Now, nearly 1000 followers later, here I am still writing for him. I felt this request would work best with him :)

“Shit!”

It was either the loud yell or the slamming of the telephone that caught Javi’s attention, he wasn’t sure which had come first. At the desk across from him, Steve sat disengaged from your internal struggles that were beginning to bleed out into the small office you all shared and diagonal from him, you had your head being cradled by your hands in frustration.

Javier kicked Steve’s shin from under the desk and with an audible “ow,” Steve gave Javier a look of disdain. The thumb pointed in your direction changed his demeanor from one of annoyance to one of concern.

“You alright, L/n?” Steve set down the report he had been reading to focus his attention onto you, but you didn’t look him in the eyes to answer, just mumbled a barely heard:

“No.”

He didn’t push any further, but it had to have been something serious to have you react in a way that made Javier concerned. If there was anything to know about you, it was that everything you ever did–whether it be work, play, or what not, you always put in 100% effort. When the reactions to your work were less than spectacular, a depression-like slump followed because it wasn’t what you were hoping for. You strived to have your superiors and partners know that you were the best person for the job and when you failed on occasion, it stung like a sting from a hornet.

“No... No, I’m not alright. I’m not fucking alright!” The burst came out of nowhere and startled the two men. It got even worse when you rose from the seat and practically ran out of the office with your jacket, the chair spinning rapidly in your wake.

“What the fuck was that about!?” Steve asked Javier with an exasperated gaze, but Javier didn’t know the answer. He thought he could deduce the reaction to the problem, except he was never certain in his abilities to read your physical reactions. Neither man readied themselves to follow immediately. Though after a few minutes, it was Javier who made the effort to find you and get to the bottom of your obvious despair.

Not in the courtyard and not in the smoking room. There was no sign of you in the file room, printing room, with the CIA guys and gals, or with Noonan. Based on Noonan’s dismissal of Javier, Javi was sure the conversation that was had between the two of you is what made you so upset.

It wasn’t until he got down to the bottom floor and into storage that he smelt the distinct smell of camel cigarettes filled his senses and he followed it down the dimly lit aisles of boxes filled with completed files. Down the one labeled G-J, you were sat against the rack with a few burnt cigarettes on the ground. Javier’s footsteps were not quiet, so you knew he was there when he turned down the aisle.

“Come to gloat for Carrillo? He fucked us all over.”

“It’s not your fault we didn’t catch him alive.” Javi told you and sat down across from you. One of his legs bent up towards his body and the other stretched out just enough where it rested itself on the other side of your foot. You handed the cigarette out to him which he gladly took from you.

“It’s always on my account. Noonan always thinks it’s my fault and I just can’t convince anyone that I’m good at this. Every time we get close to catching one of them, they die or go MIA or I don’t know... fly off to Mars.”

“Mars? Shooting a little high there, don’t you think?” The smirk on his face was welcoming but you were still angry at that fact that everything you did was never good enough for the DEA.

“Why don’t they get angry at you and Steve? Why is it always me?”

“You think you’re the only person who gets chewed out around here?” You shrugged at him but the foot that had been resting beside yours tapped it harshly. You looked at Javi with a helpless face.

“Noonan isn’t a field agent. She doesn’t understand why Carrillo made the call, but he shouldn’t have. That was your member to catch.”

“And it’s my fault that he’s dead!?”

“I didn’t say that.” Javier handed the cigarette back to you and you took a long, much needed drag before restarting the conversation.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be ridiculous about it.”

“You’re not being ridiculous. Not many women would have the gall to even take up a field job here and let alone be good at it. Noonan’s position was handed to her... she doesn’t know what we’re dealing with out there.”

“But it doesn’t mean that she isn’t right. Every time I got a lead something would happen to change the course. That isn’t what they look for in agents so what is keeping me here? Optics?”

Javier shook his head and furrowed his brows. Since the moment you stepped off the plane in Colombia, you’ve been nothing but a valuable asset to their efforts in catching Escobar. Every piece of information that you provided was essential and that is why they had put you on Gustavo Gaviria’s case in the first place. If it weren’t for Carrillo, you would have had him in American handcuffs right now but operations weren’t easy when five different departments of justice are fighting the same fight. You were a brilliant co-worker, a great person, and more than capable to be here working with him and Steve.

“Don’t say that...you are one of the best agents we have.”

“Not everyone thinks that way, Javi.”

“Well I do, and I know Steve does too. Plus, the CIA guys and the girls that work in the office, they know how hard you work. AND! I’ve never seen a woman kick as much ass as you do when we go out on the field. Anyone who doubts a woman who has no qualms about holding a gun to your head should be terrified in their assumption.”

You scoffed but it was enough to draw a little smile at the corner of your mouth so Javier knew he was getting somewhere. He was cracking the façade even if some of those thoughts would return from time to time. It wasn’t often agents were praised for their good work, so he took the chance to do it for you in a moment of need.

“Do you remember the night we had to survey the bar where there was that shootout?” You nodded in remembrance and he continued with a story that you could have predicted.

“You were the only one to think of-”

“I know, I know.” you shrugged off the surging compliment of a good days work but Javier shook his head and laughed. It was a laugh of sheer lack of understanding as to why you wouldn’t want to hear compliments.

“You deserve to be recognized for your work. Noonan might not see it but we all do here. Here is where it matters and on the field and when you go home at night and see the positive impacts on the news. When this is all over and you return to the States, wherever you end up, those people are always going to remember you for the good deeds you’ve done here.”

“You’re a good man, Javi. You know that right?”

There was a shared, true smile between the two of you in that moment.

“I think some people would disagree but if you say so, then I’ll think it.”

“I’ll remember that mantra the next time I don’t think I belong here.”

With that, Javier helped pick up the burnt nubs of cigarettes from the floor and together you returned to the office where you would help make a difference and remember that the two people who matter most to your job thought of you as essential to the process. For that, you would be forever thankful for.

#Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x oc #pedro pascal x you #javier peña #javier peña one shot #javier peña imagine #javier peña x reader #javier peña pairing #javier pena x you #javier peña x you #narcos fanfic #Narcos Netflix #narcos

183 notes · View notes

wordstro · 4 years ago

Text

[11:26 AM] + hero/villain au + "you think he'll stop? after what he did to you?" + part 6

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 masterlist

2k, hongjoong's pov for the first half but it goes back to y/n's! warnings for lots of cursing lol

kim hongjoong felt responsible for you. he'd seen you around when he was younger, but he hadn't truly known you until years after the Incident. you lived three streets down from him, near the park with the hydrangeas. he remembered this because he spent time in that park often with his parents, and later his friends. it was the best spot to hide whenever he and his friends wanted to smoke or drink before a party, or if he wanted to spend time alone with a date.

neither of you ran in the same circles. hongjoong smoked cigarettes behind the school next to broken CCTV cameras. you kept to your small circle and he never saw you at parties. hongjoong only cared about his music classes. you cared about your classes so much, you even went to supplementary after school classes. he hadn't known much about you in high school, aside from the fact that some time in ninth grade you were teased briefly for your tattered shoes. he never cared enough to find out if that escalated any further.

when hongjoong turned sixteen, he was used to screaming matches with his parents. he wasn't used to his powers. they came one day all at once, bursting from him one morning. he'd touched his toothbrush and it disappeared. he hadn't thought much of it that morning, assuming he had been severely hungover and dropped his toothbrush somewhere. but, when he came home late that night and his parents confronted him for missing classes, his emotions burst from him. he never knew what they had said to him in that moment, he only felt a rush in his ears and the feeling that his heart was attempting to burst out of his chest. when he woke up in an unfamiliar white room surrounded by people in white hazmat suits, he was told he wiped out his entire town.

when he returned to the spot where his home should have stood, after months of government-issued rehabilitation, all that was left was a crater where his hometown once was and his inability to figure out where the hell he put them. dimensional storage, he learned, was his power. he ran himself into the fucking ground trying to figure out which dimension he sent everyone.

his mentor insisted he go to university, try to live a life outside of trying to redeem himself, try to be happy. he'd obliged only because he respected his mentor. he didn't think it possible because he basically killed an entire town. hundreds upon hundreds of people. and that burden would live on his shoulders forever.

when he saw you in his first year calculus class, wearing the same tattered shoes he remembered you were teased for, he knew he had to speak to you.

you told him what happened, how you went to seoul for a supplementary class, and you'd missed the last bus home and had to spend the night at an overnight bathhouse. when you returned everything was gone. your parents, your home, every single thing was gone and all that was left was a giant crater filled with rubble. from there on out, you were left to fend for yourself.

"it was you, wasn't it?" you asked him, a few months later.

hongjoong tried to deny it, but you'd spent enough time with him to see past his facades. you'd leveled him with a frown and said, "i spent years trying to figure out what the fuck happened that night. the internet has everything, joong. besides, you and i are the only survivors."

hongjoong would always remember the guilt that lay heavy on his shoulders as he looked at you. he'd spent enough time with you to learn the consequences of his actions. you lost everything because of him. you'd gone hungry often and never quite had a home since that night. even now you worked multiple jobs to pay for university classes. because of him.

"it was an accident." he began, and to his surprise you didn't grow angry. you only sat and listened. it was more than he deserved.

when he disclosed his powers to you, you'd only picked up a rock off the ground, crushed it in your hands, showed him the dusty remnants, and said, "i assumed that was it. mine's not as cool as yours though."

from that day onwards, he felt responsible for you. he refused to let your applications to the hero-villain alliance go through. perhaps it wasn't his call to make, but he could not live with himself if you got hurt on the job because of him. not again.

eventually, he gave in, when he realized just how rundown you'd become from your multiple jobs and how often you spent weeks on his couch while searching for cheaper apartments, when he realized it wasn't his place to make such decisions for you. so he made a few calls, had your application bumped up, and made seonghwa, yunho, san, mingi, jongho, yeosang, and wooyoung swear they would not let you get hurt on the job.

it worked, until a year ago.

until he pulled you from the rubble and took in the burns wooyoung left on your neck.

until he had to face you in battle, your eyes looking right through him as he tried to speak sense into you.

until now.

"what the hell are they doing here?" san grits out the words, his gaze narrowing as he stares at the camera footage in front of him, at you standing at the front door of the alliance, your back ramrod straight and your knocking incessant.

hongjoong drags a hand through his hair, "we should let them in."

"and what if they go berserk on us the moment we do?" san bites out.

"what else are we supposed to do?" hongjoong turns a glare on san, "shoot them on sight?"

"maybe that's the best course of action."

"you don't believe that," yunho's voice is quiet, but it rings between them, his kind eyes on san.

san does not meet his gaze.

"just," hongjoong takes a deep breath, "get the chains, mingi. tranquilizers, too. hopefully, they cooperate. yunho, tell taeil to scout outwards up to radius five in case they're a decoy for someone else."

san stiffens at that. hongjoong just squeezes san's shoulder as he steps around him, "we outnumber them right now. don't worry."

"i'm not worried," san mutters, but his shoulders relax under hongjoong's touch.

hongjoong takes a deep breath as he approaches the door, the months and months of guilt that had accumulated while you were gone heavy on his shoulders.

~.~.~.~.~

you wake up to a bright light and the inability to move a single inch. your breath catches in your throat and you think, oh god, is this eunwoo's lab? and your chest feels tight with the thought, the very idea that you did manage to escape, that maybe you dreamt yeosang helping you escape, or wooyoung made due with his promise and has left you in eunwoo's clutches to do whatever experimentation he's wanted to do to you or -

"woah there, hey, it's okay."

the deep voice is familiar. kind. the touch on your arm is not cold like eunwoo's. you blink away your confusion, and your heart flips at the familiar face.

"mingi?" your voice cracks.

mingi smiles, but before he can say anything, the door behind him swings open and in walks san, his expression fixed into a tight glare. yunho eyes you warily, and he keeps a distance you don't blame him for. hongjoong enters last. his gaze flits over your form, assessing you quickly as he used to do. you've missed them. even as you assess your own situation, understand that you are strapped to a chair the same way you were when wooyoung and yeosang first kidnapped you, the relief swirling in your chest makes you want to cry.

you open your mouth to say something, anything, but you have no idea what to say. the guilt and fear and relief creates a lump in your throat you can't move past. you can't even remember the awful things you must have done to them. the distance makes you want to disappear.

hongjoong steps close, crouching in front of you, his gaze searching yours, and he simply says, "explain."

you tell him everything.

~.~.~.~.~

hongjoong drags a hand through his hair, "that's...a lot."

san hovers close, and though his hostility has lessened it's still there, still so potent, but you understand it because you'd watched him act that way before wooyoung and yeosang took you.

san's face is inches from yours, "how do we know you weren't ordered to come here?"

"you don't," you say, "but i left that pouch on purpose and yeosang risked his life to get me out of there and...and my word is all i can give you. i know -"

san cuts you off, "how do we know you won't try to finish the job the moment you're set free? i watched you kill those people, y/n." he jabs a finger against your chest and you wince when he touches the injection bruises, "that was all fucking you. how do we know what's going to come out the moment we test the words you gave us? how can you guarantee our safety in all this?"

his tone is accusing, and it only makes you feel worse. you glance at yunho, mingi, and hongjoong, but neither of them step towards you. only yunho looks away, closing his eyes.

"i don't know, i'm sorry," your voice breaks. the thought of having lost their trust and not being able to fix it breaks your heart.

"crying isn't going to help," san grits out, though he does step back a little.

"san, stop it," yunho pushes san's shoulder, dabbing at your face with a handful of tissues, his gloved hands noticeably hesitant. still, he powers through, frowning between you and san, "you don't need to be so hard on them."

"yes, i do," san snaps, "one of us needs to be hard on them, and i know it's not going to be any of you. i'm not letting us go through the same shit all over again."

you drop your eyes to the floor and yunho lets out an audible sigh, "hongjoong, please tell him to lay off."

you look up, meeting hongjoong's gaze for a long moment. his eyes are heavy with the same kind of guilt you've seen on him since the day you met him. an existential, bone-deep guilt you know he will always feel when he sees you. you remind him of his past, of his moment of weakness, of everything terrible he's ever done. he thinks you never notice the guilt, but you do. hongjoong looks away. he says, "san's not wrong. we need to be careful."

yunho rolls his eyes, and mingi sighs.

san opens his mouth, hands crossed over his chest, when he's interrupted by the high whine of a siren. it pierces through the room, startling all of you. yunho drops his gloved hand from your face. mingi frowns.

"it's a level one breach," hongjoong says, though you all know exactly what it is. you've had training on it, sure, but the last time you heard this exact siren go off was when wooyoung, yeosang, jongho, and seonghwa betrayed the alliance and wreaked havoc on the city. it means there's an attack on the city and it's predicted to be devastating.

your heart drops just as san spins on you and grabs your collar, "what the fuck is going on?"

"i don't know," you shake your head, "i really don't."

"now's not the time," hongjoong yanks san's arm off you, "we need to go to the debriefing room and figure out the threa-"

a loud, distant boom has hongjoong snapping his mouth closed, eyes widening. the floor quakes beneath your feet, your teeth chattering at the intensity of the trembles.

"oh fuck," yunho grips the table to steady himself, "we need to go. now."

another boom fills the silence, followed by screaming, loud and shrill.

"what about -"

an explosion echoes right above them and the room lights start to flicker. you flinch at the dust falling into your eyes.

"let me out."

san lets out a bitter laugh at your demand, "see? this is exactly what the fuck i was talking about. you just -"

"we can't just leave them down here." mingi snaps, "we're in the fucking basement, san."

"we should! do you think it's a coincidence that we're having a level one attack while we're all preoccupied with y/n showing up unannounced at our doorstep?"

"stay with me if you want!" you shout, "i just want to see wooyoung."

hongjoong swivels on his heels, meeting your gaze. it's the first time he's looking at you so candidly since you woke up and you nearly recoil at the intensity of it. "why do you want to see him?"

"to stop him."

"you think he'll stop? after what he did to you?" hongjoong grits his teeth and, for the first time, you can truly see how angry he is, how affected he is by everything. he never shows his anger so blatantly, but now it rolls off him in waves. the world is silent, eerily so, like the calm before a storm.

you resist the urge to recoil and look him dead in the eyes, "if i have to break every single bone in his body to stop him, then i will." you turn your gaze to san and repeat, "i will."

after a beat, san says, "i'm holding you to it."

you nod and he looks away.

"great, glad we got that figured out," yunho sighs, "now let's get the fuck out of here."

suddenly, a sharp creaking noise cuts through the eerie silence. the groan reminds you of a wailing whale, low and drawn out and a chill runs down your spine and straight to your toes. mingi yanks at your chains. you pull an arm free, just as there's another keening wail and suddenly -

"holy shit."

the entire building above you is gone. sunlight fills everything. at least, you believe it to be sunlight at first, until you realize just how bright it is. it's searing. hot, like the sun.

your eyes widen.

or like wooyoung.

"y/n, come on. get up."

you're yanked out the chair, ignoring the pain running up your leg when the chains scratch at your calf.

when you reach the ground, you cough around black smoke filling your lungs, your eyes widening as you take in the sight of wooyoung on fire, brighter than the sun, hotter, flamed wings surging from his form. below him marches an army of skeletons, dragging their bones as they lay siege on your city.

your heart drops to the pit of your stomach when wooyoung's eyes meet yours.

#wooyoung angst #ateez #ateez angst #ateez scenarios #wooyoung #hero/villain au

74 notes · View notes

just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years ago

Text

Love and Medicine ~ 4

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,700ish

Summary: Your new roommates annoy you and Steve presses your buttons.

(I do not own Marvel or Grey’s Anatomy.)

Val, Scott, and Clint had been living at your place for almost two days, when you woke up to Val standing at the foot of your bed.

“Aaah!” You exclaimed, jumping slightly.

“Clint’s room is bigger than mine,” Val complained. You got out of bed, quickly tripping as Val continued, “I have more clothes, I should have the bigger room.”

You let out a groan as you picked yourself up off the floor and headed out of your room. Only to be met with Clint as well.

“I got here first,” Clint stated.

“It’s Y/N’s house, she should decide,” Val said. You continued down the hall, heading downstairs to the kitchen.

“My room is like, two inches bigger than yours!”

“You have a bigger closet!”

“So? Why is everything always a competition? I think that you can put your clothes somewhere else!”

“Everywhere else is filled with Y/N’s parent’s boxes.”

“Y/N? What are you going to do with all this stuff anyway?” You entered the kitchen to see that Scott had made breakfast. “Because maybe we can put some of the boxes in storage.”

“Or we could unpack a few things,” Scott suggested, handing you a plate of food and a cup of coffee. “Make this place a little more homey. Maybe some throw pillows and lamps, a few paintings.”

“Oh, paintings would be nice.”

“A quiet morning before work would be nice,” you muttered into your coffee, having sat down at the table.

“Yeah!” Val agreed with Clint and Scott. “You have all this amazing stuff just packed away. In the back hall, I found this box with like a hundred tapes of someone performing these amazing medical procedures.”

“Really?” Scott questioned. “We should watch them. Y/N, do you want to—“ You got up from the table, quickly leaving with your coffee in hand. “Wait, where are you going?” Your roomies followed you.

“Y/N,” Clint called. “We’re just trying to help. We could unpack for you.”

“Yeah,” Val added. “You wouldn’t have to do—“ You slammed your bedroom door in their faces.

“Y/N?” Clint whispered. “Do you want some privacy?”

You sighed as you slumped against the door. You were beginning to regret this whole roommate thing.

~~~

When you interns arrived at the hospital later that morning, you were immediately told to head to the pit (the ER). You were all helping each other suit up (gowns, gloves, etc.) while you talked.

“Fools on bikes killing themselves,” Gamora grumbled. “Natural selection is what it is.”

“So what’s up with Gamora?” Peter questioned quietly. “Is she off her meds?”

“You’ve never heard of the race?” Clint asked. Peter shook his head. “Every year this bar—“

“—The HYDRA Bar—“ you cut in.

“Yeah. Every year, they hold this underground bike race.”

“The race is completely illegal,” Scott added. “And—“

“Crazy,” you interrupted. “A bunch of bike messengers racing against traffic trying to beat each other for free shots of tequila.”

“All-out, no holds barred competition,” Peter said, “sounds like fun.”

“Yeah,” Val scoffed. “You would think that.”

“The race doesn’t even have any rules,” Clint added. “Except eye gouging—no eye gouging.”

“Oh great,” Natasha murmured. “We're going to be trapped in the Pit bandaging up idiots when we could be up in the OR?”

“What kind of people engage in a race that has, as its only rule, that you can't rip out the eyeballs of another human being?” Scott wondered.

“Men, Scottie,�� Peter responded. “Men.”

“I need someone to get up to the OR floor,” Gamora stated loudly. “The Chief needs a right hand.” You all shot up your hands. “Clint.”

“Yes!” Clint exclaimed, rushing away.

“Okay people, the rules of trauma. Don't mingle with the ER interns, they don't know their ass from their esophagus. Sew fast, discharge fast, take bodies up to the OR yesterday. Don't let me catch you fighting over patients. Got it? Come on, let's go.”

You interns rushed into the ER, seeing injured bikers everywhere.

“Oh, it’s like candy,” Natasha commented. “But with blood, which is so much better.”

Val and Natasha quickly started bickering about a biker that was just wheeled in. You looked around, trying to find an interesting case to jump on to.

“Ooh,” you said after seeing a guy with nails in his side. “I’ll take that guy.”

“No, you’ll have to beat me to him first,” Peter responded. You both ran to him, getting there at the same time. Peter pulled the curtain closed between them and the patient. “Heads he’s mine, tails he’s yours.” He fished out a coin from his pocket.

“Why do you get to be heads?”

“Because I have a head, and you are tail.”

“Excuse me! How do you make everything dirty?” Peter flipped it. “Ha. Tails. There are plenty of other cases.”

“So go get one. I was here first.”

“I am not backing down so I can do sutures all day while you're up in the OR. This is a surgical case, and you know it.”

“It's superficial. I mean, it's cool, but it's superficial.”

“How do you know those things didn't rupture his peritoneum?”

“Because he's sitting up, and he's sitting there talking to us!”

The patient pulled the curtain back. “Allo,” he said with an accent. “Excuse me, I was wondering if you could take these out, and sew me up, so I can go and win my race?”

“Well, we can’t just pull them out,” you told him. “I mean, we ought to—“ Peter quickly started ripping the nails out of the mans side. “—do some tests—“

“Oh, wicked.” The man smiled with a nod, grimacing a little with each pull.

“Are you out of your mind?!”

“it’s a superficial wound,” Peter said, handing the nails over to you. “Sew him up, and let him finish his race.” Peter walked away.

“You—you— ugh!”

“Good man,” the patient commented.

“Just, don’t move while I go get something to sew that up.”

“Of course, darlin’.”

You huffed in annoyance as you left to grab a suture kit. Coming back, you realized that the patient had been watching you the whole time, clearly checking you out. Which only made you more annoyed. Not that the guy wasn’t attractive, you just started the day feeling annoyed. You led him to a trauma room and cleaned the wound before beginning to sew it up.

“The name’s Hunter, by the way,” the patient stated.

“Hunter?” You repeated as you tried to concentrate on what you were doing. “Okay.”

“Hey! Don’t diss!”

“Not dissing, just concentrating.”

“Ah, you got a nice touch,” Hunter commented as you pulled another stitch. “And by the way, you are a rocking babe.”

“Seriously, do you actually think you have a shot here?”

“I like to think I've got a shot everywhere.”

“Look, you really have to let me take you for some tests, and a CT. You could have internal bleeding.”

“No thank you. I’ve got a race to get back to.”

You finished up the last stitch and stood up so that you could be face to face with him. “Why? You can't win now anyway.”

“Doesn't mean I can't cross that finish line. There's a party at the finish line. Do you want to meet me there?”

“One test. A CT. I'll have you out of here in an hour.”

“Can't do it, gotta go.”

“Okay, well, you realize that you're leaving against medical advice and I strongly urge you to stay.”

“The frat guy said I could go.”

“The frat guy is an ass. Okay, well, you have to sign an AMA form.” You reached behind you and grabbed a clipboard with the form.

“Darlin', I will do anything you want me to.”

“What is it with you guys and your need to dirty everything up?”

“I don't know. Maybe it's just testosterone, eh?”

“Maybe. You might want to see a doctor about that, too.”

“Come here.” He took the form, quickly signing it. “There.”

He handed the form back before getting up. Hunter took a few steps towards the door before spinning around. He grabbed you and kissed you.

“That was for good luck,” he whispered, walking away backwards. “Don’t worry, darlin’, you’ll see me again.” He left the room.

“For your sake, I hope not!” You called after him.

Shaking your head, you began to strip the bed. You couldn’t help the feeling though, that you were being watched. Looking up, you saw Steve standing outside the door.

“What do you want?” You asked as Steve entered the room.

“You make out with patients now?”

You looked up at him with a small smirk. “What are you jealous?”

“I don’t get jealous.”

“We had sex, once.”

“And we kissed, in an elevator.”

“And we kissed in an elevator, once!”

“No, seriously, I mean come on, go out with me.”

“No.”

“You know, I almost died today.” You gave him a questioning look. “Yeah, I came like this close.” He gestured with his hands, a small gap between his finger and thumb. “How would you feel if I died? And you didn’t get a chance to go out with me?”

You rolled your eyes. “Get over yourself already.” You headed for the door.

“Come on.” Steve followed you.

You spun around. “It’s the chase, isn't it?”

“What?”

“The thrill of the chase. I've been wondering to myself, why are you so hell bent on getting me to go out with you? You know you're my boss, you know it's against the rules, you know I keep saying no. It's the chase.”

“Well, it’s fun. Isn’t it?”

“Yes see?” You waved a finger at him. “This is a game to you. But not to me. Because unlike you, I still have something to prove.”

You took your leave, hurrying to find another patient in need.

~~~

You were walking past a patient room when you heard Val call your name.

“Y/N!” You rushed in. “He’s crashing.”

“Well, what the hell are you doing?” You asked her. “Call code!”

“I can’t. I’m not supposed to, he’s brain dead.”

“Well Val, if he’s brain dead, you have to let him go.”

“No. It's only been five hours and thirty-three minutes, he's supposed to get six hours.”

“Well, we can't do anything to make him live, it's not our place to make that call.”

“He's a person, we're doctors, we should have every right to make that call. We can't just stand here and do nothing while he dies. He has a right to the next twenty-seven minutes.”

“Screw it. I’ll get the dopamine, you get the blood. We’ll transfuse him.”

You and Val worked together to save the guy, with Natasha coming in to help. After you got him stable, you and Val decided to take a walk.

“He’s stable,” you stated, walking up the stairs.

“For now,” Natasha said, coming down the stairs. “I had a radiologist look at his chest, apparently he has a traumatic aortic injury. He's going to rupture and bleed out.”

“So he needs surgery,” Val said.

“If he's going to remain a viable organ donor, yeah.”

“If he's going to live.”

“Val…”

“No! I’m not giving up on him. He has the surgery, he lives longer, that's the point. So I'm going to help find the family, you guys find a way to get him into surgery.” Val continued up the stairs.

“She’s vice-president of fantasyland.”

“So who do we go to?” You asked. “Gamora?”

“No, we need to go higher than Gamora.” Nat and you followed Val up the stairs.

You came to the conclusion that you needed to talk to Banner. You found him entering the men’s restroom.

“Let’s just wait until he’s done,” you suggested.

“No,” Natasha said. “Just open the door and talk to him.”

“Are you for real?” Natasha and Val pushed you into the door. “Dr. Banner?” You nervously called into the mens bathroom.

“Hello?!” Banner exclaimed.

“Okay…” you quickly closed the door. “Yeah… nope.”

Natasha pushed you aside and opened the door. “Dr. Banner, I know you’re busy, but our John Doe needs an aortic repair.”

“The guy from this morning?” Banner questioned, still doing his business. “Isn’t he legally dead?”

“Well, yeah, he's kinda still around? We gave him two units PRBCs and put him on pressers.”

“On whose orders?”

Natasha shut the door, giving you a look before forcing you to open it.

“Mine,” you squeaked.

“You gave a brain-dead John Doe a blood transfusion without consulting anyone. And now you want me to repair his heart.”

“Well, yes,” Natasha replied.

“You do enjoy crossing the line, don’t you?” Banner moved to wash his hands.

“He is an excellent candidate for organ donation,” you added.

“I am a surgeon. I save lives. This guy is already dead. Now, this is the men's room. Either whip one out or close the door.”

With a sigh, you closed the door and started walking away. As you did so, you got an idea.

“I think I’m going to regret this,” you mumbled. “I have an idea. Just… I’ll page you after I find an answer.”

You quickly left in search of Steve. You found him in a hallway and pulled him aside. You explained the situation, with him actively listening.

“You're asking my advice?” Steve questioned.

“Yes,” you responded with a nod.

“Now who’s chasing?” He teased.

“Not funny. This is important.”

“Okay. You want to get around Banner? You gotta find a way to get the Chief involved.”

“Okay—”

“And agree to go out with me?”

“Nope. Not happening.” You turned around.

“You’ll cave, eventually!” He called after you. “I’ll get her.”

~~~

At lunch, you, Val, and Natasha ran into Clint. He was in the middle of eating a sandwich when the three of you came up to him, standing in a line, staring.

“What’d I do?” He asked, food in his mouth.

“How close a match for the liver is your guy to our John Doe?” Val asked.

“Very.” Clint swallowed. “Same type, same size. UNOS couldn't find a better match, why?”

“And he's the Chief's VIP, right?” You asked.

“Right.”

“How much would you kill to be in on a transplant surgery?” Natasha asked.

“You underestimate me. I'm not a baby, I'm your colleague. You don't have to manipulate me, if you want something, all you have to do is ask.”

“We want you to go over Banner's head to the chief,” Val said.

“Ask me something easier.”

~~~

With a bit of persuasion, Clint finally caved in. Val, Natasha, and you watched from down the hallway Clint stop the Chief.

“Sir?” Clint called.

“Barton,” Fury turned around. “How’s Jackson?”

“Fine. Sir, actually, that's what I want to talk to you about. I-I kind of think that— we— uh, me, and the other interns, we think— we’re— we're not—“

“Barton, I’m not getting any younger.”

“We found Jackson a liver.”

“We are so going to hell,” you muttered. “Banner’s sending us straight to hell.”

“On an express train,” Val added.

“If it works,” Natasha said.

Peter came up to them. “What are you doing?” He asked.

“Nothing,” the three of you responded in unison.

Peter noticed that you were watching Clint and Fury. So he began watching too. Banner walked past but Fury quickly stopped him, adding him to the conversation.

“Yes,” Val grinned.

Fury left soon after, leaving Banner to give Clint a questioning look. Clint immediately followed after Fury. Banner turned to look at the rest of you.

“Oh, crap,” Natasha muttered.

You three hurried away, leaving Peter. Peter quickly went after Banner.

“Dr. Banner! Dr. Banner!”

~~~

You found out through the OR board that Peter had been chosen to assist Dr. Banner in the surgery. You and Natasha were extremely irritated. You all sat up in the gallery, watching the surgery.

“I seriously hate that guy,” Natasha said.

“Peter is vermin,” you added in agreement. “That surgery is ours.”

“At least Banner is doing the surgery. I don't care about Peter,” Val said. “Clint? You did good.”

“I'm going to have to dodge Banner for the rest of my career,” Clint said, shaking his head. “He could kill me and make it look like an accident.”

“Now that would make an interesting Dateline,” Scott said.

“Really, Scott?” You questioned, trying to suppress a laugh. “That’s the first thing you go to?”

“Hey! You can’t deny that you wouldn’t watch it.”

~~~

After the surgery, it was time to go home. You had just changed out of your scrubs and were grabbing a few things from your locker when Peter waltzed in.

“Oh, I smell good,” he commented. “You know what it is?” He turned to you. “It’s the smell of open heart surgery.” He breathed in deeply. “It's awesome. It is awesome. You gotta smell me.” He came up behind you, leaning into you.

“I don’t want to smell you,” you retorted.

“Oh, yes you do.” He nuzzled into your hair.

You quickly spun around and grabbed him, pushing him against the lockers by his shirt. “You have got to be kidding me! Okay. I have more important things to deal with than you. I have roommates, and boy problems, and family problems.” Peter yawned, glancing around. “You want to act like a little frat boy bitch, that's fine. You want to take credit for your saves, and everybody else's? That's fine too. Just stay out of my face.” As Steve opened the door, you grabbed Peter by the chin, making him look at you. “And for the record, you smell like crap.”

You turn, finally seeing Steve. You go back to your locker. Steve motioned as if to say, what happened?”

“She attacked me,” Peter said, pointing at you.

You spun back around to really attack him.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” Steve rushed over, grabbing your arms and pushing you back. He turned to Peter. “You know, you might want to leave. Before I change my mind and let her beat you to a pulp with her tiny ineffectual fists.”

He let go of you to push Peter out the door. As Steve closed the door, Peter pulled a face at you, how mature. Steve sighed. You studied him, getting more stupid feelings for him by the second.

“What?” Steve wondered.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, turning to pull your jacket out of your locker. “It’s just…” You gave him another long look, him nodding encouragingly. “Nothing.”

You closed your locker and made your way to the door. Steve opened it for you. You looked at him again for a few seconds before striding away. He looked up at the ceiling with a sigh.

“I’m telling you, Rogers,” Stark commented as he leaned against the wall across from the door. “Not a good idea.”

“How the hell are you around every damn time?!” Steve exclaimed.

Tony laughed. “Honestly, I think I may have a gift for sensing everyone else’s stupid decisions but my own.”

“Well, can you stop sensing mine?!”

“Sorry, Steve. You’re the only one making stupid decisions currently."

~~~

All you wanted was your bed. And a quiet house. When you got home, Val, Clint, and Scott were already there. They were in the living room, sitting on the floor while going through a box of tapes.

“Ooh, this one is skin grafting!” Val said, pulling out a tape.

“Skin grafting? No way!” Scott responded, taking the tape from her. “I've never seen that done before.”

“Are those my parent’s surgical tapes?” You asked, bring there attention to you.

“We should watch the skin grafting one first,” Clint said.

You looked around the room. There were pieces of furniture and art that you had sworn were packed up this morning.

“Where did all this stuff come from?” You questioned.

“Oh, I unpacked some of the boxes,” Val replied. “I was upset, and when I'm upset I like to nest.”

“Same,” Clint and Scott added. You began taking down pictures.

“Oooh!” Val quickly grabbed another top. “Hemipelvectomy.”

“Let’s definitely watch that one first,” Scott said.

“No. No. We’re not watching my parent’s surgery tapes,” you quickly ripped the tapes from their hands, “we’re not unpacking boxes,” you motioned to the boxes around the room, “and we’re not having long conversations where we celebrate the moments of our lives!” You slammed the tapes on the coffee table. You grabbed the beer bottle that sat on the table and slammed it onto a coaster. “And use a damn coaster!” You turned to leave.

“I ordered Chinese food…”

You marched up the stairs. “I hate Chinese food!”

Here’s the thing… both of your parents were widely renowned surgeons. But they both died in a terrible accident almost a year ago. After that happened, you quickly changed your last name to one of your Grandmother’s maiden names. You didn’t want all the attention. You had already gotten so much through med school and have the accident, you didn’t want anymore.

~~~

You were grateful that your roommates didn’t bother you the rest of the night. And when it came time for work in the morning, you made sure to leave without them. You met up with Natasha in front of the hospital and walked in together.

“They're everywhere. All the time. Scott's all perky, and Clint does this thing where he's helpful and considerate, and Val just, I don’t know is Val!” You complained. “They share food and they say things and they move things, and they breathe.” You let out a little whimper. “They're like happy.”

“Kick them out,” Natasha responded.

“I can't kick them out. They just moved in. I asked them to move in.”

"So what, you're just going to repress everything into some deep dark twisted place until one day you snap and kill them?”

“Yep, basically.”

“This is why we are friends.”

Peter jogged up as they entered the hospital.

“Why is Gamora making us stay in the Pit two days in a row?” He asked.

“Leftovers,” you replied.

“Leftovers?”

“Gotta get the cyclists who were too drunk or too stupid or too scared to get themselves to a hospital yesterday.”

“While meanwhile, she gets to do a freakin' organ harvest.” He motioned to Natasha.

“Oh, that kills you, doesn’t it?” She smirked.

“What?”

“That two women got the harvest.” You three stopped in front of the elevator.

“No, it kills me that anyone got the harvest but me. Boobs do not factor into this equation. Unless you want to show me yours.”

You and Natasha exchanged looks. “I’m going to become a lesbian,” you stated.

“Me too,” Natasha responded.

~~~

You and Peter tried to civilly work near each other in the Pit. As you filed away some patient paperwork, you glanced over at the waiting room. You did a double take after seeing your patient from yesterday, Hunter, waiting.

“What’s Hunter doing here?” You asked.

Peter glanced up at the waiting room before going back to what he was working on. “Probably crashed his bike,” he answered. “Again.”

“How long has he been waiting?”

"Don't know, I'm busy on real cases. He's all yours.”

You walked over to him. “Hunter? Hunter?” You noticed that he was holding his side, the injured side, as you came closer. He didn’t look at you as he started to cough. “Are you okay?” He tried to get up and you ran the rest of the way to him. Hunter fell, unconscious as blood came from his mouth. “Hunter!”

You got down next to him, lifting up his shirt. The stitches you did yesterday were ripped open and the area around them had swelled up. You quickly called for help, other nurses and doctors quickly came with a gurney. They helped lift Hunter on with you jumping on to sit on top of him. You tried to hold his wound closed as you turned at talked to a nurse.

“Call up to the OR and tell them we’re coming,” you ordered. “And page Dr. Gamora.”

“Right away,” the nurse replied, rushing off.

You noticed Peter staring at Hunter, a bit stunned. “Peter! Push the dam gurney.”

Peter quickly rushed into action.

“Clear the way!” The nurse with the two of you called. “Coming through!”

“Somebody get the elevator!” Peter yelled.

“Hurry,” you said. “I don't know how long I can keep this wound closed.”

The gurney is pushed into the elevator. You watched as the doors seem to slowly close. You and Peter watch as the level numbers light up.

“Move faster, damn it,” you muttered.

Finally, the doors reopened and the gurney was quickly taken into the OR.

“Well, this is a new one,” Gamora commented, ready and waiting in the OR. “Somebody get her off my patient.” A nurse helped you climb down. “Y/N, go get cleaned up and scrub in, Peter, get back downstairs.”

“Yeah, but I helped,” Peter defended.

“Helped! They tell me down in the Pit that you only want to take the hot cases. In every pack of interns there's always one fool that's running around trying to show off, and Peter, this time that fool is you. Get out.”

With an angry sigh, he left the OR. You quickly left after, going to clean up and scrub in.

~~~

After the surgery, you and Gamora were informed that Viper had friends waiting in the lobby for him. You two went out to talk to them.

“This lovely group's his friends. Uh, you all belong to—“ Gamora looked at you. “What’s his name?”

“Hunter” you answered.

“Hunter?”

“Yeah,” a man replied. “We were in the race.”

“How is he?” A woman stepped up. “Is he okay?”

“Is he okay?” Gamora repeated. “No. No, he is not okay, at all. He hurled his body down a concrete mountain at full speed for no good reason. Yeah, I know you all pierce yourselves and smoke up and generally treat your bodies like your grungy asses can't break down to A, you want to kill yourselves, flying down a concrete mountain, go to it, but there are other people walking, people driving, people trying live their lives on that concrete mountain, and one of them got his brains scrambled today because one of you little sniffling no-good snot-rag—“

“Doctor Gamora—“ you tried to stop her.

“Yeah, yeah so no, your friend Hunter, as far as I'm concerned, is not okay.” Gamora stalked off.

“She's, um, really tired, but, uh, Hunter's going to make it,” you said. “He’s gonna live.”

A chorus of “cools” and “thanks” were heard from he group. You stood there, awkwardly nodding for a few seconds too long before hurrying away.

~~~

At the end of the day, Steve found you in the locker room, alone. He came in, shutting the door behind him.

“It’s not the chase,” Steve stated, catching your attention.

“What?”

“You and me. It is not the thrill of the chase. It's not a game. It’s... it's your tiny ineffectual fists. And your hair.”

“My hair?”

“Smells good. And you're very, very bossy. Keeps me in line.”

“I’m still not going out with you.”

Steve smirked, opening the door back up. “You say that now.”

He leaned over and kissed your cheek, then he left. That man was for sure going to be the death of you. You could feel it.

~~~

When you arrived home, Val, Scott, Natasha, and Clint were in the living room, eating pizza, drinking, and watching a surgical tape.

"Okay, this is the best part, watch, this is where they pulls a block of skin down over the face,” Val said.

You cleared your throat. “Hi,” you said as they looked at you.

“We were— uh, we were just,” Scott stuttered.

“Natasha made us!” Clint quickly said.

“What are we watching?” You asked, coming into the room more. “Ooh.” You sat down and took some pizza. “This is the one where my mother—“

“Literally pulls this guy’s face off!” Val interrupted.

“Yeah.”

You nodded, looking around at your friends. There might be a small chance that you could get used to this.

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#steve rogers x reader #tony stark x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #clint barton x reader #valkyrie x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #scott lang x reader #peter quill x reader #gamora x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines

154 notes · View notes

joshslater · 4 years ago

Text

End of Shift

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

My life is over. I've been playing a high stakes game, and somehow landed on one side of the odds all the time, but my luck was bound to run out sooner or later. I guess I should be happy that it turned out to be later, but it sucks no less. I got sloppy. I was looking through the items near the cashier, as always, trying to mostly use reflective surfaces to see what was going on, as always. I need to be within 15 feet or latency becomes an issue. Some old lady still using the old wallet was buying KokaKola and a pack of Ziffs. This would be easy, as always. I discreetly pressed my watch as she was ready to make the purchase, activating my EM-swiper. I wouldn't take much, a few credits more. She probably wouldn't notice it, or think the store stiffed her, or think she bought two packs of Ziffs and lost one. I'm not stealing to get rich, just to get by.

As the EM-swiper went off a high pitched beeping starts behind me. I barely have time to turn my head enough to see the charging police officer, before he slams me into the side of a KokaKola fridge. Shit, I hadn't done a survey pass through the store as I always do. I could barely register what he was screaming in my ear. "Drop it," I realize, and let go of the magazine. He must have thought I had the EM-swiper in my hand. He told me to put my hands against the wall and performed a pat-down. It's only him, so he must be off duty or not on a real patrol. He empties my pockets on the cashier table. Nothing of value, and certainly not something incriminating. I may not have been fortunate enough to afford academy, but I'm not stupid.

"You are detained under suspicion of committing proximity fraud. Do you understand?" he asks me in that commanding yet bored tone of a laborer having to recite corporate bullshit, only in his case it is in the pretense of justice. "Yes," I answer him. He doesn't have anything on me or he would have arrested me right away. Probably. "Put this on to acknowledge you've read the Citizen Rights Act and agree to an investigation in this matter." He hands me a pair of handcuffs to put on. I hesitate for a second. He is behind me and in the way of the store exit. I can stall for time and tell him to recite the CRA, but that immediately counts against you, as it is your duty to know it. I have no choice but to put them on. It's the latest model. I haven't seen any up close before. Light, thin, all metal, no key hole. Probably opened remotely or only inside a police cell or some shit. I put them on.

"Turn around, pick up your stuff, and exit the store." I do as told, turn around and begin to pick up my stuff and put them back where he took them. It's an older police officer. None of them young, jacked up types. Perhaps he is one of the fair ones. But then I am the criminal, so what good would that do me? There's a small, black duffle bag by his side. So he is on his way home. Perhaps he is tired. Perhaps I can shake him. Have Leo remove the shackles and then stay low for a fucking long time. Or this just doesn't amount to anything more than a slap on the wrist. I walk towards the door, him behind me.

"Nice watch," he says, pointing at my wrist as I reach or the door.

He knows. Unless I can get away now my life is over. All I can think of is the monstrosities the state churn out as punishment. Equal part labor force and sadism. I open the door as little as possible and as soon as I am through I dash down the block. I don't dare look behind me, but I don't hear him in pursuit. Halfway down the block I swerve into the alley that cuts across the building and out on the block on the other side. If I can cross that block and then down south I'm in the park and there are plenty of places to hide there.

My hands are not on fire. This surprises me as I look down on my hands, screaming in pain. There is a high pitched sound coming out of the handcuffs, like capacitors charging, but it is continuous. The pain emanating from my hands is something unlike anything I've ever experienced before. My legs buckle. I know I need to move, somehow, somewhere. It's just so difficult to think of anything but my hands that are not on fire. It would probably be a good idea to not scream my lungs out, but I don't really have a choice in that.

Just as suddenly as it started it stops. I'm still writhing in pain, but my hands are not on fire in a much more comforting way. "The payment proxy is in your watch, is it not?" the policeman asks, standing a few steps away. I'm panting, I realize when I attempt to answer him. Panting and sweaty. I can't manage to speak. I just nod my head.

"The state vs. item RK-220553 finds the defendant guilty to breach of contract with the state, executed by judicial AI 5" he reads off his handheld screen. I'm confused to what just happened. "No trial?" I manage to wheeze out. "You entered into a cooperation contract when you put on the handcuffs, as you are aware of as you claimed to know the Citizens Rights Act. Disobedience at that point allows for immediate trial by AI as long as no forensic work is needed." He sounded like the same bored cop as he was in the store, reciting memorized text for the thousandth time.

I struggle to get up on my feet. Not only am I shaky, but having my hands locked together makes it surprisingly difficult to get up. "You know, this is bad timing," the cop starts. "I was on my way home and don't have all the standard gear. It's supposed to be a swift punishment, for deterrence, but there is really only one thing I can do." Why is he so apologetic? He opens the bag and pulls out a fucking tactical human transformer. I've never even seen one in person before. He turns it on, selects something on the screen, and points the device towards me. "No, I can..."

This time I am on fire, if only so briefly. There is a blinding light, a pulse of heat, and the smell of burnt plastic. As the transient heat subsides it keeps falling colder and colder. I'm naked. All my clothes have been singed from my body. My watch is gone. My shoes are gone. Underwear gone. And, I realize, my hair is gone. The cop keeps punching in selections in the menus of the devices. I manage to get up on my feet. "Stay on the ground," he tells me. Not so much as an order, but as an advice. I sit down again and he trains the device on me.

I don't know how to describe it. It's not pain exactly. There is something about rewriting the code and cellular structure of your body while your brain is engaged that makes it give up in disbelief. "This can't be what's actually happening," it thinks and gives you completely nonsense sensory interpretations. But it also gives up on all other tasks. Time becomes irrelevant. Critical thinking put on hold. When the device stops you are utterly confused for seconds. Possibly by design, but it makes sense that you can't rewire the brain in flight without some glitches.

"I want you to stand up," the cop says in a firm voice. "Who?" I ask, still dazed, just to make sure. "You. Get up on both feet. Take this." He throws an orange bundle to me, and I feebly grasp for it but my one arm yanks the chain to the cuff of the other arm. The bundle brushes by and lands on the ground next to me. He looks disappointed, more at himself for thinking it would work than on me for not catching it.

I look down at my hand and see something orange in my grip, but it is not the orange that interests my but the grip. My arms, thin from lack of food and nimble from grabbing P2 storage modules out of vendor racks. are enormous. Big, well defined muscles with popped veins going up and around them. They look longer than before and even the hands are larger than they used to be. I can see that not only my arms are different. My chest is all lean and strong-looking as well, the legs have these weird lines showing different groups of muscles under the skin, and I can almost bet that the ground is further down than it used to be. Orange! I'm holding something orange in my hand.

"I only have an emergency kit with me, so not very many options for you I'm afraid. If you had come with me I think they would have found some better use for you, but as I said, I didn't have much to chose from beside himbot," the cop said while putting some beat-up looking boots from his bag next to me. He grabs the chain between my cuffs, and both of them pop open instantly, and he folds them up and begins to place them back into the cuff holder in his belt.

There was something he said that was important. Like, really important. I feel cobwebs like I had just been awakened from a deep sleep. "Put on the jock," he tells me, and again I am confused, but of a different kind. It's like I urgently need to know what he means, somehow. "You're holding them in your hand." I again look down at my hand and see the orange piece of cloth, which obviously is what he meant. I flip it around in my hands and finds it to be an orange jockstrap with a generous pouch. Looking down I also see the reason for that, since my dick and balls are large. Much larger than I remember them to be. I don't want to keep him waiting, so as quickly as I can manage, with my balance a bit off, I manage to place one leg in each loop and pull up the jockstrap. It neatly collects everything in front into a large orange ball.

Himbot! That's what he had said. It's like the government robots but human. What was the I and M now again? Wait, those are just mindless sacks of muscles roaming around doing whatever menial task is available.

"Himbot?" I ask him. "Yes, you are a himbot," the cop answered. "Put on the shirt."

I immediately grabbed the orange bundle from the ground I assumed to be the shirt. To my delight I was right and with just a few tries I managed to get it on me. It isn't a real shirt, but one of those without arms, whatever they are called. Quite a lot of skin showed. The shoulders were bare, as were the sides and the nipples unless you positioned the strings just right. Stringers! It's called a stringers, or something close to it. I feel so tired thinking of words.

"And the boots"

I grab one of the boots. There is something missing, but I'm not sure what it is. I has something to do with the small holes, I think. Well, the large hole is missing a foot, so I put one in it. Then I put the other foot in the other boot, and looked at the cop to see if he approved. He looks about the same. Good enough I hope.

"Face me and raise your hands" I comply immediately. He is pointing the large gun at me again. I don't like it, but I must do what he says. He presses a few buttons and then there is a sharp headache.

"Who are you?" "Himbot 220553." "What is your assignment?" "Walk along path 228-red responding to requests." "What types of requests?" "Any type of requests."

345 notes · View notes

thehangeddemon · 3 years ago

Text

Waiting for a Tuesday || Self Para || September 14, 2021

☠ WARNING ☠

This work contains graphic descriptions of violence, gore, and torture

Reader discretion is advised

“More tea, sir?”

Xavier glanced up from his newspaper and gave the waiter a pleasant smile. He shook his head. “I’m fine, John, thank you. You can bring me the check as soon as y—”

“Actually, John. Why don’t you go ahead and bring us another pot of tea? Anything but English breakfast,” he added with a chuckle that almost sounded condescending. “I don’t share my son’s fondness for it.”

The waiter watched as a man, who had seemed to appear out of nowhere and was dressed head to toe in black, invited himself to sit opposite Mr. Rossmara. He’d said ‘son’, but he didn’t really look old enough to have a son Mr. Rossmara’s age. He didn’t really resemble him either but that seemed less strange somehow.

What was strange was the way Mr. Rossmara was looking at the man across from him. He looked…stunned, like he’d seen a ghost or something. But beneath the surprise was an indiscernible emotion on Mr. Rossmara’s face that John thought looked just a little like fear.

At the stranger’s expectant look, John collected himself and cleared his throat, addressing Mr. Rossmara. “…Sir…?”

Xavier seemed to collect himself as well, though far more subtly. He folded up his newspaper and put the pleasant smile back on his face, determined to make it seem like nothing was wrong. Only someone who looked very closely would see how forced the smile was, or how measured his movements were.

“Yes, of course. Does earl grey meet with your approval?”

The man smiled like the proverbial cat who ate the canary. “It does.”

“Very well. A pot of earl grey then, John.”

The waiter nodded. “Right away, sir.”

Xavier waited until John was well out of earshot before he spoke again. “Hello, Father. I didn’t expect you.”

Zagan let out another of those condescending laughs that set Xavier’s teeth on edge and dragged him right back to all his memories of Hell. “No, I’m quite certain you did not.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“My dear boy, it was hardly a mystery worthy of Sherlock Holmes. For as long as you’ve had your shipping business, you’ve come to San Francisco every Tuesday without fail to check in. And without fail, you finish your work just before teatime. By your own admission, this hotel has the best afternoon tea in the city. All I had to do was remember the name of the hotel and wait for a Tuesday.”

Zagan helped himself to one of the cucumber sandwiches that remained on the tray. “You’ve become predictable in your old age, my boy.”

Xavier had to fight to keep from shifting in his seat. Not any-bloody-more. He’d be changing that particular habit immediately. It didn’t suit him at all for someone outside his household to have such intimate knowledge of his movements, especially if that someone was his father. Such information was dangerous in the hands of a man like Zagan. It didn’t matter if it was only the day and location of a standing reservation for tea and cake, Xavier knew from experience that the less his father knew, the better.

Which was largely why he didn’t take any great pains to see him. Unless, of course, he was forced to.

“I see,” Xavier said, settling for an amused smile since a laugh was impossible. “I suppose I am becoming a bit predictable. Anyhow, it’s nice to see you, Father. Have you been well?”

“Well enough.” Zagan was watching him carefully, studying every nuance in his expression, listening to the tone and inflection of every word. Becoming familiar with anything that had changed since the last time he’d seen his demonic progeny.

Thankfully Xavier didn’t have to endure it for very long. John soon returned with their tea, giving him a reprieve from paternal scrutiny as it was poured. It was the only thing that would for the next little while.

This time it was Zagan who waited until they were alone again before he spoke. “So. Tell me. How is that shipping business of yours doing? And your myriad other ventures?”

The next hour or so was spent in what one could call easy conversation. They spoke of Xavier’s businesses, the sights he’d seen, the things he’d collected, the weather, the state of the world. Perfectly light, perfectly casual. At least from an outsider’s perspective.

From Xavier’s point of view things were far more fraught. Everything he said had to be carefully weighed, and there was a desperately thin line between revealing too much and appearing withholding, between looking at ease and projecting discomfort.

Having a conversation with his father hadn’t always been this difficult. In fact, just a few years ago Xavier would have been—and had been—completely comfortable not only talking to Zagan but spending entire days in his company. He’d even sought him out once or twice. But then, Xavier had had far less to lose a few years ago. He hadn’t had a child, a fiancé, staff that depended on him, friends he cared for.

He had all those things now. He had more than he’d allowed himself to have in fifty years, and the memory of how things had gone then still lived all too vividly in his mind.

Getting back to a point of comfort with Zagan after that hadn’t been easy, but he’d done it. There hadn’t been a choice. It was either swallow his pain, grief, and desire for vengeance and make nice, or tempt his father into carrying out his threats.

Sitting here now, Xavier felt much the same as he had then; trapped, resentful, and desperate to get away.

He had no illusions of being able to do that any time soon, however, even when his father finally asked for the check. After such a long absence, Zagan was sure to take up as much of his time as possible.

His suspicions were confirmed almost immediately.

“Come,” said Zagan, getting to his feet. “Let’s take a walk.”

Xavier remained at the table while his father stepped outside, indulging himself with a long, weary sigh the moment it felt safe to do so. It had only been an hour and he was ready for another five-year interlude in their relationship.

What had brought Zagan up from Hell anyway? Surely this visit hadn’t only been for tea and a walk with him. His father hated humans, hated looking at them and being amongst them. There had to be another reason and no doubt it was something Xavier really didn’t want the know the details of.

“Probably scouting his next project child,” Xavier muttered to himself as he pulled his card from his wallet.

Bill settled, he stepped out into the late summer evening and breathed deeply. There was a chill in the air that said autumn was well and truly on its way. Soon the days would grow shorter and the nights longer. His collection of coats would emerge from storage. Every hearth in the manor would roar to life with cheerful, welcoming fires.

He sighed again, longing for the comfort of home as he looked for Zagan among the crowd of people in front of the hotel. That expression of disdain was easy to spot.

“Where shall we go?” Xavier asked, approaching him.

“I don’t know how you can stand it.” His father’s tone all but dripped disgust. “Being here day in and day out among these…creatures and the stench of their cities. It’s revolting.”

“I’d rather smog than brimstone.”

“I think I prefer brimstone.”

Right. That nipped the notion of walking on the street squarely in the bud. If only that were enough to dissuade his father, but alas.

Fortunately, there was a park nearby.

Zagan didn’t say a single word as they made their way there, clearly preferring to stew in his distaste until they were well clear of anyone who might catch a snippet of their conversation. Of course, he hadn’t been nearly so averse to it back at the hotel.

Xavier would just chalk that up to the difference between a well-appointed dining room and a crowded street.

His father’s demeanor seemed marginally more pleasant as they entered the park. It wouldn’t be empty for a good while yet, but it was an improvement from the street. Hopefully it wouldn’t be enough of one to tempt him to stay much longer.

A few long minutes of not-quite-companionable silence passed before Zagan saw fit to fall into conversation again. The additional privacy meant they could discuss things that were far more relevant to his father’s interests than the weather or the goings on at a shipping company. Namely, any magic Xavier had learned, magical artifacts Xavier had acquired, and any kills Xavier had made.

The latter would perhaps prove to be a bit of a disappointment. Not only did Xavier kill less frequently these days, his choice of quarry had changed. The people that he’d once hunted were those he found interesting or amusing or intriguingly intelligent; only on the very rare occasion did he hunt someone who truly deserved it.

That was no longer the case. Lately when Xavier hunted it was only people who truly deserved it. He went for rapists and abusers. He went for people who hurt children, including and especially priests. There was immense satisfaction in knowing exactly where those people were going and what awaited them when they arrived, and even more in describing it in vivid, excruciating detail as they bled to death among the debris of a forest floor.

Hell was a far greater torment than anything he could visit upon them, and he was more than happy to send them on their way.

Zagan let out a loud, derisive laugh at that. “Are you indeed?” The old demon laughed again, putting Xavier’s back up and setting his teeth on edge. “My dear boy, you have been away from Hell too long. Who would’ve imagined? My son, the divine hand of justice for ne’er-do-well priests the world over. Never mind predictable; you’ve grown positively moral in your old age.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Xavier said softly, fighting to unclench his jaw.

His father gave him an amused look. “No?”

He shook his head. “No. I’ve merely…unearthed an intolerance I didn’t give sufficient regard to before.”

“Have you? Well.” Zagan chuckled and adjusted his sleeve, looking positively chuffed in a way that both infuriated and unsettled. “You never did like priests. Who would, having had your childhood? I suppose that particular aspect of your personality was bound to rear its head again eventually. Perhaps…it’s entirely appropriate that it should do so now.”

Xavier didn’t register the movement until it was too late. He only had a moment to feel his father grabbing his arm before he was whisked through the familiar vacuum of demonic travel, and even less to register his new surroundings before he was thrown bodily against something cold and unyielding.

“You unearthed an intolerance, did you?” Zagan’s voice, so casual and amused just seconds ago, now quivered with rage.

Xavier went flying again, this time into something that splintered beneath the force of his weight. Wood?

“And when exactly did you do that, Xavier? Was it perhaps around the time that you became a father?”

Again, back into the unyielding cold. Stone. “Father, plea—”

“Not that I can even tell, since I’ve scarcely seen the child—my grandchild—more than twice since the day he was born!”

Xavier cried out as he was flung for a fourth time, several bones breaking upon landing forcefully on a stone floor. There was something soft beneath him, but whatever it was, it hadn’t been enough to cushion his fall.

He braced for another hit, relieved when none came. He could still hear the echo of his father’s furious footsteps, however, which meant the torment wasn’t over. Far from it. The pleasant Zagan of earlier was gone, and who had remained in his place was someone Xavier was very, very familiar with.

Familiar enough to know that he had only a few precious seconds to catch his breath and orient himself.

There wasn’t much he could see from this position apart from the ceiling of whatever edifice they were in but, not wanting to draw attention to himself too soon—or move lest he worsen his breaks—he observed what he could by turning his head.

Said ceiling, high and crisscrossed with thick wooden beams, appeared to be constructed of the same stone as the walls and floor. Dusty chandeliers covered in thick cobwebs were hung every few feet, the candles in them long unlit. The same went for the metal sconces on the walls.

He appeared to be lying in the middle of an aisle bordered on either side by what he could only assume was the wooden something he’d been thrown int—

No. Not just wood. Pews.

Xavier struggled into a sitting position, heedless of his broken bones and desire for inconspicuousness in his rush to confirm his suspicions, to confirm what he already knew.

Panic rose in his chest as he saw the cross silhouetted in stark relief against the waning sunlight streaming in through the stained-glass window.

They were in a church.

Had this been any other time on any other day Zagan wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to mock and use his son’s fear against him. Xavier’s childhood memories of being harrowed and abused by his stepmother and local priest amused him to no end but on this day, he didn’t so much as comment.

He just stalked down the aisle toward Xavier and slammed him back against the floor with a flick of his hand.

“After all,” he said, voice dangerously soft as he crouched beside his son. “I can hardly drop by for a visit now, can I? Not with all those wards you have on the estate that threaten to annihilate anyone who comes in unannounced.” He almost smiled. “You’ve amassed quite the bag of tricks over the last fifty years.”

Xavier could only shake his head. “The wards aren’t—”

“Aren’t what? Aren’t meant to keep me out?” Zagan scoffed, giving Xavier a dubious look as he grabbed a handful of his hair from the back of his head and stood. “Dear boy, do you really expect me to believe that?”

He gave Xavier’s hair a good hard yank, ignoring his son’s cries of pain as he dragged him down the aisle and deposited him on the small set of stairs leading to the altar. “You didn’t ward against me fifty years ago only because you didn’t know how to. If you had, you would’ve done it in a trice to help keep that pathetic little slave of yours out of my grasp, but I’m sure that’s already occurred to you.”

Indignation fought its way in beside pain and panic, and Zagan noticed. His son’s emotions had always been pitifully easy to read, moreso when they ran as profoundly as he knew this did. The servant was still a sore spot even after all this time.

Zagan paused.

“Had you realized?” he asked, crouching again to run a single finger down Xavier’s cheek, those ancient eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. “That this year marks the fiftieth anniversary? Had you realized, my beautiful boy, that half a century had passed since you came so close to defying me?”

Fifty years of pain and rage and grief so rarely expressed churned in Xavier’s gut and pulled at his soul. That his father could speak so cavalierly of Maximus and his loss made him want to scream and be ill in equal measure.

Had he realized? How could he not, when every day for the past year and a half had been a battle against remembering? How could he not, when every day he walked halls and sat in rooms identical to those Maximus had once drawn breath in, only to remember that they had burnt to the ground?

How could he not, when dead leaves and rose petals and ash were still enough to bring him to tears?

The same tears that streamed down his face now. Xavier was powerless to stop them and even if he could have, he likely wouldn’t have. After what he’d done to Maximus, an acknowledgement of his grief was the least Xavier could give him, even if his father was the only one who witnessed it.

“Oh my, look at that.” Zagan stroked his son’s face again, collecting those tears and rubbing the moisture between his fingers. He tsked, shaking his head. “My dear, it’s been an absolute age since then. How can a measly little servant still cause all this upset, hm? There now.”

Zagan slipped one arm under Xavier’s knees and the other behind his back, lifting and carrying him the rest of the way up the steps as if he weighed absolutely nothing. He gathered Xavier close, even took care not to jostle him too much.

Such loving gestures were not uncommon for the old demon. There were times in Hell when he had been the absolute image of gentleness and paternal affection, when he had held him as he did now and given him a reprieve from the torture.

But more torture had always followed. Showing him affection was rarely meant to comfort; it was meant to torment.

“I’m sure you feel like the past few decades have been a trial, but you see, I don’t think that’s entirely accurate.” Zagan set Xavier down as carefully as he’d picked him up, petting his hair as that indignant look returned to his son’s expression. “Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t doubt you’ve suffered a great deal over your servant. I don’t see why you would when they’re so readily available, but I don’t doubt it. I just think you haven’t quite…put things in perspective.”

With of wave of his father’s hand, every sconce, chandelier, and candelabra flickered to life, allowing Xavier his first real look at the derelict church. Not that there was much to see. No one had set foot in here for a very long time, let alone used it as a place of worship.

But when he turned his head, Xavier saw something that made his blood run cold.

Until now he’d felt trepidation, resentment, emotional anguish. Only when he saw the lines of a demon trap scorched into the threadbare carpet beneath him did he finally feel fear.

“Father…?”

“You see, my dear, I don’t think you realize how easy you got off all those years ago.” Zagan shed his coat and rolled up his sleeves.

“Father, please—”

Zagan knelt beside him. “My own son considers rebelling against me, disobeying me, gives a servant pride of place over his father, and what does he have to pay for it? Absolutely nothing.” He unbuttoned Xavier’s suit jacket and shirt, undid his trousers. “My son defies his father and still he gets to keep his estate, his businesses, his treasures. His life. All these things my son gets to keep, he goes virtually without punishment for fifty years, and does he realize that? Does it occur to him how generous his father has been in his infinite mercy? No. Rather than show gratitude, he has the childish audacity to believe he is the aggrieved party!”

Xavier didn’t see Zagan move. There was just an awful squelching sound, then searing pain as his father, having pierced his torso with a bare hand, sliced it upward and gutted him like a fish from groin to sternum.

“Which doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed your efforts,” Zagan said calmly above the echoing din of his son’s screams. Casually. “You’ve been such a good boy, treating your papa to afternoon tea and accompanying him for a walk. But I have been far too lax with you. You see that, don’t you?”

He gripped the jagged edges of Xavier’s wound and forced them apart to another chorus of screams. “All those wards, the prolonged absence.” Zagan shook his head. “There comes a point where it all gets to be a bit too much. What’s that expression? Getting too big for your britches? I think you’ll agree you got too big for yours a very long time ago. What’s more, I think you’ll agree that it’s high time that you paid the piper.”

Zagan got to his feet and made his way over to the wooden table beneath the stained-glass window at the head of the altar. He retrieved a hammer, a covered metal bowl, and a set of railroad spikes and brought them over to the demon trap, kneeling again.

Xavier could only watch him, borderline delirious as his chest heaved and his wounds bled. He didn’t dare lift his head to look at the damage; he’d seen enough of his own insides in Hell.

There was a vague hope that his blood would break the demon trap and allow him to get away, but he knew it was impossible even as he thought it. Zagan had prepared for this.

There was no getting away, especially once the first spike was hammered through one of his feet, piercing shoe leather, flesh, and carpet as it was driven into the stone beneath. Xavier bit back another scream, only to give in as his father pinned his arm above his head and drove the second spike into his hand.

“A necessary precaution,” Zagan explained, moving around to repeat the process on Xavier’s other side, barely reacting to the scent of demonic flesh charred by iron. “To make things easier for both of us. Remember what I always used to tell you?”

The third and fourth spikes were driven into Xavier’s free hand and foot, rendering him not quite immobile, but significantly limiting his range of motion. He was left completely vulnerable to Zagan.

“Well?”

He turned toward his father. The demon was looking at him expectantly, warmly—a complete contrast to that cold smile on his face that never quite reached his eyes.

“The more you struggle,” Xavier began, breathing raggedly, “the more it will hurt.”

“That’s exactly right. Good boy.” Zagan bent to kiss his brow and set the hammer aside. “Now be a love and stay still for your papa while he works.”

“What are you going to do?” Asked in a voice too soft and timid to belong to a demon.

“I thought you might ask. You see, I needed to come up with an appropriate punishment.” Zagan reached into his abdominal cavity and tore out a chunk of his liver, placing it on the carpet beside him while his son howled in agony. The shock and blood loss weren’t enough to kill him, of course, but there would be a great deal of both before Zagan was done.

“It had to fit the crime, else how could the lesson be truly felt?” His stomach joined his liver, spilling its bloody contents as it hit the floor with a sickening plop.

Xavier hadn’t felt pain like this since Hell. He wondered for a moment if he was in Hell. That endless red sky and the ceiling of the church blurred together in his mind while the stone under his back became the rocky banks of that boiling river of blood. He heard a scream—or perhaps a thousand—but no longer registered it as his own.

When his father spoke, he heard it as only an echo.

“I mentioned taking your estate and your belongings but upon reflection, that wouldn’t be a practical solution to the problem. You could always acquire more, and really, what do I want with a bunch of wine and trinkets and land?” The other half of his liver followed, then his spleen and pancreas, all added to the growing pile of viscera.

Zagan turned to Xavier, whose screams had quieted to pained whimpers as he began coughing up torrents of blood. “No matter how you look at it, it would only be an inconvenience to us both. An inconvenience, not a punishment. That was when I realized that there was something I could take from you that would serve as an appropriate punishment.”

The old demon reached into Xavier’s body with both hands this time, ripping through sheet after sheet of connective tissue as he worked to tear out Xavier’s intestines. Messy work but very necessary, although he did find himself wishing he’d brought a blade to speed up the process. But that’s what happened when one was forced to move with haste; things were bound to be forgotten.

To Xavier, that process seemed to take hours. Perhaps it did. He couldn’t help but think it would’ve been kinder to just kill him.

His only comfort was that the shock setting in made his body go almost numb, a small mercy for which he gave profound thanks. It was liable to be the only one he got. He only wished he could go deaf as well, or better yet, fall into blessed unconsciousness so he wouldn’t have to listen to or feel the rending of his flesh.

More hopes he knew would be dashed.

Such was Zagan’s concentration on his task that he fell silent. Humans did have such a lot of parts, but he had gotten most of it. It would do.

He gathered the slippery mass in his hands, considering adding them to the pile before deciding to simply drop them on his son’s lap. They didn’t need to be removed entirely, just moved out of the way.

“Right,” he sighed, looking around at his handiwork while he gathered his thoughts. “Where was I? Ah, yes. Your punishment.”

Zagan scooted a bit closer and tenderly took Xavier’s face in his hands, smiling beatifically as he stroked his son’s cheeks and smeared that handsome face with blood. “I believe you’ve lived in poor dead Christian for quite long enough, my precious one. Don’t you?”

For the second time since this ordeal began, panic took hold of Xavier. Not just a trickle of it, but huge, violent waves that made his adrenaline surge and had him struggling against his restraints despite the burning pain of the iron.

Please, God, let him not have heard correctly. Surely it was the delirium, the blood loss making him think his father had said what Xavier thought he’d just said. Or if had said it, perhaps Xavier just didn’t understand his meaning. It could mean anything, everything. Too much. Was it to be his life, a return to Hell? Was it—

“Settle down, Xavier,” Zagan chided, placing his hands on his son’s shoulders. “What did we say, hm? The more you struggle the more it will hurt, and this is going to hurt quite enough without you thrashing about like a landed fish. Settle.”

“Wh-what is?” Xavier’s voice was a raspy, choked sound, devoid of its usual elegance. For all that he struggled—or tried to, before pain and fatigue forced him to stillness—it was a battle to get out every single word. “Fath…father. What are y-you going…?”

“What am I going to do?”

At his son’s jerky nod, Zagan smiled and stroked his face again. “Just what I said. You’ve been living in Christian Deidrich’s body for far too long and it’s time for a change.”

“But w-what—”

“I’m going to take you out of Christian, Xavier. You will be removed from this vessel and placed into a new one.”

Xavier looked at this father in abject horror for a few silent, eternal moments before panic and adrenaline flooded back in with a vengeance.

He began to struggle to free himself in earnest as his father’s words and their full implications sank in. Whatever he’d suffered so far—gut-wrenching reminders of the past, the sear of iron, the removal of his organs—it would be nothing compared to what he knew awaited him now.

At this very moment, even the full weight of what it meant to lose Christian as his vessel couldn’t hold a candle to Xavier’s fear.

This reaction pleased Zagan immensely, and unlike before, he was perfectly happy to let Xavier wear himself out. In this weakened state it was all he’d manage to do, which would only make things easier once the real work began.

Besides, even if by some chance Xavier did tear the wounds around the spikes and freed himself, he was still inside the trap. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Zagan hummed to himself, giving his son’s cheek one last pat before getting to his feet.

One by one, he brought candelabras over to the altar. Not many remained after so many years of the church having been abandoned, but they were enough to give him the light he needed. The larger ones were placed around the perimeter of the trap and the smallest just inside. A single candlestick was placed beside Xavier.

Had he been able to, Xavier would’ve knocked that stupid candle over and set fire to the rug. Something his father probably would’ve considered if he wasn’t so obviously confident that it wouldn’t happen.

Xavier couldn’t deny that he was right to be. Already he was exhausted to the point of giving up. Physically, at least.

“Father…” he wheezed. “Plea…please…don’t—don’t do this to me…”

“Ahhh, I see we’ve moved from anger to bargaining,” Zagan chuckled, returning to his son’s side. “I understand, of course. A new face will be an adjustment after so many decades spent looking at the same reflection in the mirror, but don’t worry, my dear one. You’ll get used it.”

Xavier shook his head, swallowing back more tears. He didn’t want to get used to it. He wanted to remain in his body. No matter how mangled it was, it was his, and leaving it would mean suffering beyond measure in more ways than one.

“The spell…”

His father nodded patiently. “Yes, yes, I know. You locked yourself in. An excellent notion, truly. After all, one can never know who does and does not know an exorcism rite. No doubt it would have spoiled your fun if in the middle of a hunt, your quarry dispatched you back to Hell.”

Zagan stroked his hair again. “Pity that your good judgement should have to hurt you now.”

Tears began to flow freely again as Xavier tugged at his restraints with all the might he had left. It was precious little. “Fat-ther, please…please d-don’t…please…”

“Hush now. Begging won’t save you, Xavier.” Zagan picked up the bowl that until now had sat untouched beside the revolting mess of entrails. “As I’m sure you’ve gathered from the very fact that you’re able to be here, the church we are currently in is no longer consecrated ground. Faith left this place…” he shrugged, “a century ago, perhaps more. But despite that, there is one thing I’m so terribly curious to know.”

He removed the lid. “I wonder…despite the decades of absent devotion…if this water is still holy enough to hurt you.”

“N-nononono wait, don’t—!”

An awful steaming hiss drowned out his protests as Zagan slowly began pouring the bowl’s contents into Xavier’s abdominal cavity.

“You’re making it worse,” he said, raising his voice to make himself heard over the cacophony of tortured screams and howls of demonic pain.

His admonishment fell on deaf ears. The moment the first drop of holy water had touched his mutilated insides, Xavier had begun thrashing about in a desperate, mindless effort to escape from the torment.

Exhaustion had no hope of stilling his movements, even if those movements caused the water to splash and slosh about and cause even more pain. This was beyond the physical, beyond the human. Short of an exorcism this was the greatest suffering that could be inflicted on a demon, and Xavier had the great misfortune of knowing that was precisely what awaited him next.

He screamed, he sobbed, he begged his father to stop. At some point he even succeeded in tearing free of two of the spikes. But still the ordeal continued and would until the bowl was empty.

It would continue even when the bowl was empty, because for all that Xavier had moved about, a good deal of holy water remained on and inside of him. As long as it did, nothing would stop the screaming.

“Shhhh, darling, shhhh,” Zagan cooed at his son, pulling out the spikes that still restrained Xavier’s limbs so he could turn him on his side and empty out the water. It had completed its intended purpose and was thus no longer required.

He eased Xavier onto his back again and picked up the candlestick. “Right. I would very much like to say that’s the worst of it over, but we both know that’s not the case. Tell me, should I bother asking where you carved it?”

Although agonized groans and broken sobs had replaced blood-curdling screams, Xavier wasn’t in any condition to listen to his father, much less respond.

“I thought not. No matter. I have a fair idea which rite you used, and I believe that particular one calls for the inscription to be placed on the spine.”

At last, the true reason for the evisceration revealed.

Zagan brought the candle close to the gaping void that was Xavier’s torso, using its light to find exactly where the spell had been carved into the bone—a slightly easier task now that the holy water had rinsed out most of the blood.

“Ah, there it is.” Zagan tried to make out the symbols to confirm his suspicions. “What did I tell you?” he chuckled, setting aside the candlestick. “Predictable.”

Xavier had been left even weaker than before. His chest barely rose. His skin, already pale from loss of blood, looked gray and lifeless. There wasn’t a part of him that wasn’t burning in agony. The dread and fear and grief he should have felt eighty-six years ago when the hangman’s noose had been placed around his neck fell upon him now, far more heavily than they would have then.

Still, he had to try just one more time.

With what little strength he had left, Xavier turned to his father. “Please,” he begged, the barely audible whisper ragged and frail. “Father. Please…please don-n’t. You don’t—don’t kn-now…” he gasped for breath, “…what you—you’re take…tak-king…”

There was a beat of silence during which Xavier thought, just for a second, his father looked apologetic.

“But I do,” Zagan murmured, taking Xavier’s bloody, tear-stained face in his hands. He stayed like that for several moments, studying his child’s features one last time. He loved this face. It gave him no pleasure to destroy it. “I know exactly what I’m taking. My beautiful, beautiful boy.”

He bent to place a tender kiss on Xavier’s forehead. “Don’t fret. The pain won’t last. You’ll still be beautiful, I promise. I could never take that from you. You’ll even look like your brother.” He kissed Xavier’s forehead again, his brow, his cheeks, allowing them both the indulgence of true affection for just a moment.

Perhaps it would offer some comfort in the days to come.

Sighing, Zagan took the candlestick again and made another examination of the spell his son had used to lock himself in. It was simple, but perfectly effective against exorcisms and other such attempts to dislodge a demon from their vessel.

The symbols themselves were spread across four vertebrae and, upon closer inspection, appeared to be burned into the bone rather than inscribed. He had no doubt the process had been rather painful; things like this always were.

He reached in and carefully tore the first vertebra from Xavier’s spine, ensuring he removed only bone and nothing else.

Painful, yes, but not as painful as its reversal. Not in his hands.

Zagan recited a small incantation under his breath, brushing his thumb back and forth over the symbols as if merely rubbing away a bit of dust. With every swipe the symbols grew fainter and fainter until they disappeared altogether, leaving behind nothing but clean, unmarred bone.

He held it up to the candlelight and examined it again. Pleased, he tossed it away and pulled out the next one.

Xavier, no longer strong enough to scream, could only groan and sob as his father ripped yet more parts out of his body, overwhelmed by fear and pain.

But there was another sensation as well; an odd, supernatural pull somewhere deep inside his being. It seemed to exist independently of the pain, and had nothing to do with what was happening to him physically.

It did, however, have everything to do with what was happening to him magically. This body, having been technically dead for so many decades, was dying again. In all reality it had already died again, and as his father methodically did away with his lock, Xavier’s hold inside his vessel began to loosen.

By the time the last vertebra was torn from his spine and the symbols on it erased, that hold was all but nonexistent.

“There we are,” said Zagan, sighing again as he smiled to himself. “Now the real work begins.”

Even if he’d been inclined to bother with an exorcism, it was no longer necessary. Given enough time Xavier would be forced to leave Christian’s body on his own, but Zagan wasn’t inclined to wait.

Instead, he reached into his son’s abdominal cavity one last time, thrusting through dead flesh and fractured bone and into the very core of him, physical and metaphysical, feeling around until his hand closed around what he sought.

Making sure to maintain an iron grip on his prize, Zagan ripped Xavier free from what remained of his moorings. When Zagan’s hand emerged, bloody and singed, it held a cloud of oily black smoke that crackled with electricity.

There were no anguished screams to mark this final parting, no sobs or desperate pleas to echo off the stone.

There was only the burnt out, mutilated husk of a body, the scent of sulfur, and a cloud of oily black smoke.

Zagan smiled at the smoke and released it, leaving it free but still stuck inside the demon trap, before pushing the husk out of the way to give himself more room to work.

What came next would require every last ounce of his will and concentration. This was magic he did not inherently possess, and if he could not see his vision clearly, if he could not believe in it wholly, it would not bear fruit.

He closed his eyes, steeling his will as he began to draw every bit of energy in the room outside his own toward him, no matter how small. The remnants of Xavier’s emotion, the electricity of a demon in true form, the lifeforce of the plants surrounding the church—all were taken and absorbed.

Even the candles were drawn in, extinguishing themselves one by one as Zagan pulled their heat and energy close, inserting his will and chanting ancient magic to manipulate the mass of energy to his whim.

And there, in the middle of the demon trap, it slowly began to take form. A single point of light that pulsed and grew as yet more light surrounded and encased it, becoming a womb for an old demon’s creation.

With every pulse, the air shimmered as it regained its charge, making Zagan’s skin prickle and burn to the point of pain. But still he did not buckle, digging even deeper and giving even more of himself as he watched the light become something at once both liquid and solid, something that elongated and molded itself until it resembled a human body.

Almost done.

He looked up at where the cloud of smoke hovered above his head. It would be cleaner to do it in one fell swoop. Faster. Even for a being as old as he was, keeping this level of concentration took its toll. Mere seconds could be the difference between success and miserable failure.

The new vessel was almost complete; the moment it was, he would draw Xavier into it and seal him inside. He had to move quickly, but gingerly, with the precision of a surgeon.

Zagan took a deep breath. Clenching one hand as tightly as he could to hold his creation in place, he used the other to draw his child down and guide him into his new vessel.

A different kind of light began emanating from the body as it was slowly given life. Zagan grit his teeth against the strain as it grew in strength, as he was pushed to the very edge of his limits by the effort of controlling so much raw energy.

No sooner had the last wisp of black smoke disappeared from view than the light burned out with enough force to shatter every window in the crumbling church.

Zagan fell back, utterly exhausted but brimming with triumphant hubris as he gazed upon his creation. His vision, made flesh.

It was perfect.

Zagan spent a few moments catching his breath and recuperating some of his strength, after which he got to his feet to gather himself. He adjusted his sleeves and went to retrieve his coat, brushing off bits of colored glass before slipping it back on. He placed the bowl and the candlestick back on their table, took a piece of glass and sliced through the carpet, breaking the demon trap.

And when he finally approached the unconscious, supine body that now belonged to Xavier, and watched as he drew his first breath, Zagan bent to place a kiss on his forehead.

“Perhaps now you’ll learn,” he whispered. “My beautiful boy.”

A rustle of wings, and Xavier was left alone in the darkness.

#Waiting for a Tuesday self para

20 notes · View notes

fu-aki · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 5

So this is going to be my attempt to summarize part 1 of the beginning part of chapter 5 (episode 1 to 21) of twisted wonderland.

Again, spoiler alert since I’m about to write out everything that happened, and I apologize for my grammar and horrible French in advance.

You heard someone singing -> it was the scenes from snow white when the evil queen asks the mirror on the wall and snow white singing into the well -> player choice: a beautiful women was watching from the window…/ I felt like I’ve meet that beautiful person before… -> you woke up from dream -> in the main street, you meet up with Ace and Deuce -> after seeing the statue you realized you’ve seen them in your dreams before

In classroom -> Ace felt it wasn’t weird to have dreams like that when you see those statues everyday -> you mentioned about in your dream “mickey” appeared in the mirror -> Ace and Deuce never heard of that name before -> Ace suggest to take a photo of it with the “ghost camera” you got from Crowley since it can even take pictures of ghosts

Crewel showed up and explained about “nationwide sorcerer training school culture festival” -> it’s a 2 day event with representative students from all the sorcerer training school, a festival with speeches and debates all about magic related music & art topics -> for NRC, all the 4th year students will be send all across country for internship and research study -> they will all come back on that day to share their experience and result -> end of the homeroom -> fight Crewel for the defense magic class

In the dorm leader meeting -> Malleus is not there again -> Lilia mentions how he couldn’t find Malleus anymore after class so he’s here instead -> Idia questions if Malleus is missing meetings on purpose -> Lilia talked about how fairies feels time different from humans, and how Malleus have some troublesome karma on him as well

The meeting starts -> Riddle started reporting everything about the event -> but the “vocal & dance championship” has surprising amount of media focused on it -> Riddle was surprised since he thought it was just a chorus competition -> because of the time change and consideration for different types of music, now it includes singing, dancing, and performance -> and because of how popular it got, it becomes one chance for students to professionally debut -> and now it’s getting extra notice because the famous influencer Vil and Neige are in it -> Lilia commented how Neige is getting really popular online and on TV -> Idia surprised that people in Diasomnia actually go online -> Lilia “kuhuhu, of course, we are still just students in high school, we watch dramas and play games.” -> Crowley “Vila and Neige, 2 world known famous celebrity are going to appear in VDC, it won’t be an exaggeration to call it the highest degree of attention we are going to get in this event.” -> Crowley ask Riddle to make preparation in case of troubles -> Azul offered to help since he learned all about it from magic shift event -> Leona “hey octopus bastard… do you want your flappy tongue to turn into dried food or what?” -> Azul “oh my how scary” -> Riddle refused Azul’s help since he don’t want Azul ask for something later -> Kalim “just tell us if something is bothering you, we’ll help you anytime.”

-> Kalim “I can’t wait for the day of festival~!” -> Idia “sign~~~… the popular guys just looks so happy everyday. I had to think about the day to announce our research result… if I just step on stage, everyone would be like ‘hey isn’t his hair burning?’ ‘could he be Shroud family’s…’ ‘what kind of dark research is he doing?’ aah I can’t… for person like me to do a speech on stage is just challenge level EX.” -> Riddle mentioned how the rules said student have to go on stage themselves and offer to train Idia for speech after school -> Idia said he’ll manage something himself (whispering) “I really don’t wanna have a farming event with demonic trainer Riddle.” -> end of meeting

In Vil’s room -> Vil “Mira, Mira” -> Mira “what can I help you with?” -> Vil “who is the fairest of them all right now?” -> Mira “the account with the most mention of fair in web currently is… Neige.” -> Vil “Neige…! Finally… this time have arrived.” -> Mira “sorry, I couldn’t quite hear you. Could you please repeat what you said?”

Few days later in cafeteria -> Ace, Deuce, Grim, and you saw the poster for the VDC audition -> the reward for wining the championship is 5 million Madollar to spilt among the members -> Crowley popped up and explained many corporation sponsored this event -> Grim wanted to join for the money so he can buy tuna cans

The song for audition is “piece of my world” -> Ace wanted to try so if he got accepted he don’t need to help set up the places anymore -> Deuce wanted the reward money to help his family -> but he never did singing or dancing before so he didn’t want to join ->

In courtyard you heard someone singing beautifully -> you saw Epel ->Deuce remembered the time he bumped into Epel last chapter -> He asked Epel why is he practice singing here -> it was because Vil told Epel to practice singing to the well so Epel can hear his voice clearly -> Deuce “does Pomefiore have some rules where you have to be good at singing?” -> it was because Epel has to take the audition for VDC and practice for a more lovely voice -> Epel (whisper) “event like that should just disappear…” -> “oh my Epel, are you skipping practice and talking with pigeons now?” -> it was Vil -> Grim “that guy’s leg looks like it’s 1 meter longer than MC’s!” -> Vil “there’s only 2 month left till VDC, Epel have no times play with muddy potatoes like you people.” -> “Epel, you too, if this keep going on you won’t be able to become the ‘red poisoned apple’ let’s go.” -> Epel “…But I actully don’t!” -> Vil “did you forgot the promise with me? Just come here already.” -> Ace and Grim was pretty mad and wanted to fight -> Vil “It’s not bad for a walk after meal. Come at me, I’ll make you into mashed potato.” -> fight time -> you are beat up by Vil -> and he only gives you 5/100 for the fight since you lacked the beauty when fighting -> Epel has to go back with Vil and Vil mentioned how it ends up like this because Epel skipped practice in break

The next day -> Deuce decided to try the audition -> so if they are accepted, Epel might got eliminated and don’t need to practice anymore -> Deuce “as a honor student, I can’t just watch him being forced into the things he don’t like.” -> Ace “I don’t think it’s very honor student of you to call yourself honor student.” -> dance practice time

Kalim and Jamil showed up practice for audition too -> Kalim “honestly you guys are pretty bad at this, you look like a panicked elephant trying to stand on 2 legs! Ahhaha!” -> Deuce “man this really hurts when he’s not even try to be mean.” -> Ace asked Jamil to teach them how to dance -> Kalim “oh sure! Jamil is really good at singing.” -> Jamil “why are you replying for me! … well it is also review for me when I’m teaching someone, fine I’ll do it.” -> teaching time -> Kalim “hey, how about we practice together tomorrow too? Jamil is really good at singing, we’ll show you.” -> Jamil “! You just decided that yourself too…!” -> Kalim “it’ll be fine, besides isn’t it more fun when you have more people for dancing, singing, or partying?” -> Jamil “fine, just don’t expect me to be so kind.” -> Jamil “for now, let’s just clean up, take some mops from the storage room -> Deuce, Ace, Kalim “okay.” -> Jamil “Kalim, you don’t have to do it… sigh.”

Azul showed up -> Grim mentioned how Jamil’s evil plan was streamed worldwide last chapter.” -> Azul “why do you think the merciful me would end my classmate societal life like that?” -> Jamil “…you would.” -> that day Azul was just on phone with Jade -> Azul “different from Leona, I don’t have an interest to beat down someone more than necessary, besides it’s a secret that I’ve finally got, I won’t do anything to make the price fall like that.” -> Jamil “hate to say it, but thanks to Azul’s mercifulness, my parents and Asim family didn’t know the real reason I overblot. But the dorm students…”

Flashback -> Scarabia students questioned why Kalim don’t change the vice dorm leader after what happened

-> Kalim “are you guys worried about me? Thank you! But… he was not the only one wrong this time, I’m also at fault. Besides, is there anyone in Scarabia that have not received help from Jamil?” -> student “that, that is true… if there’s something going wrong we would always just ask him…” -> Kalim “I know right? He is an excellent vice dorm leader. A lot better than me, the dorm leader. His judgements might be clouded back then, but he is still great at his work. He did try to expel me by manipulating you guys but… up till that incident, he has never hurt me even once before. He has many chances to do other much more horrible things to me, but he didn’t. Not once, in 17 years. I won’t call him a good guy but… it’s hard to explain but would you please give us more times?” -> students “…if that’s what you said so…” -> Jamil “…” -> end of flashback -> Jamil “the chance I had for holiday was once in a lifetime, thought my life would be over if I failed, but in the end it didn’t change that much… surely something to be ‘grateful’ for. So unless I’m fired by Kalim, I’ll continue to serve him. And I’ll continue to show everyone how useful I am.” -> Grim “Jamil… your character really changed a lot after the holiday.” -> Azul “if you are fired by Kalim, Octavinelle will always welcome people like you with open arms.” -> Jamil “thank you for the offer, but no matter what happened I would never go to Octavinelle.” -> Kalim “Hey you guys~ if we don’t head out soon we are gonna be late for class!”

3 days later -> everyone is getting better at dancing and singing -> Jamil reminded them to sign up for audition with Rook in class 3-A -> Grim saw Leona and called out to him -> Leona: angry lion noises -> Grim asked where is Rook Hunt -> Leona “why are you trying to find that weird guy.” -> Rook suddenly popped up from behind -> Rook “hahaha, did I surprised you? Pardon. Conceal my footstep sound was a habit I had. I am Rook Hunt. The hunter of love that set his life theme as looking for beauty, helping beauty.” -> Leona “tsk, there it is, that weird guy.” -> Rook asked where is monsieur dandelion -> Leona “no way we are together 24/7, just take those herbivores and go.” -> Deuce questioned who is monsieur dandelion -> it was Ruggie -> the reason why Rook calls him that is because last spring, Rook saw Ruggie picking dandelion in the sports field. Ruggie plans to eat those since his budget is a little tight this month -> so Rook calls him monsieur dandelion out of respect -> Leona “that guy… is he really fine with eating everything that’s not rotten? He didn’t make me eat dandelions too, right…?” -> Rook “non non, it’s not poison, it’s not good to be picky like that lord lion.” -> Ace brought up the audition for VDC, we almost forgot about that because of what happened -> Rook “I apologize, so you guys are, human species Ace Trappola, height 172cm, from class 1-A with student number 25. Human species Deuce Spade, height 173cm, from the same class 1-A with student number 24. And human species MC with demon beast species Grim, height 70cm. right?”

-> Deuce “how did you know our class and student number!?” -> Ace “and even height too!?” -> Rook “huhuhu. As a hunter, I have to at least know the species and heights about the students.” -> there’s no need to write anything to sign up, you only need to show up to the audition 3 days later in Pomefiore’s ballroom -> Rook ask why don’t Leona try for the auditions too -> Leona “who would go to a game event like that, besides, that annoying Vil is also there. I would never go.” -> Rook “the Vil with the beauty of metropolis, and Leona kun with the beauty of wilderness. If both of you dances and sings together it would definitely be beautiful. The competition between different types of beauty, it’s just tres bien!” -> Leona “this guy really doesn’t listen to other people at all…”

3 days later -> in Pomrfiore dorm lounge, you saw around 50 students who’s also trying for audition -> Cater was also one of it -> since he wanted to go to the event with the famous celebrity Vil -> Ace “isn’t that reason a little too light hearted?” -> Cater “really? I thought everyone is like that, I mean look.”

-> pointed at Ruggie who’s clearly here for money -> Lilia popped up again -> you recognized him as the person who handed you the holiday card -> Grim “he wasn’t the sender?” -> Lilia “the initials are different from mine right?” -> Lilia is here since he’s in light music club and it just makes sense for him to try -> he tried to invite Malleus too but he said he don’t want it to become the exhibition of some kind so he refused -> Lilia “that guy is kind of shy” -> Cater “I feels like that’s a little bit different from shy…” -> Lilia asked why didn’t Cater brought Trey along -> Cater tried but Trey has to help Riddle with all the works

they saw Ortho by himself for audition too and was surprised -> Ace commented on how Ortho looks like an elementary school student -> Cater said Ortho is accepted into this school with Idia, and they always take classes together -> Grim “how much of a brothercon is Idia…” ->Ortho “don’t talk bad on my brother!” -> Ortho explained how everything was approved by the principals, and is not like Idia brought him just because he’s lonely by himself -> Cater “sorry sorry, we kinda got to excited while talking about it since the Shroud brother is like the 7 mysteries of this school.” -> Ortho “I want to apologize for getting too upset as well, I just don’t want you to misunderstand my brother…” -> Cater asked if Ortho is also here for audition -> flashback -> basically Idia made a software with his voice to read out everything he typed -> for the speech since he just can’t talk in front of everyone -> but Idia also got pretty interested in the sound editing world -> Idia “since virtual idol is getting popular, should I put vocal synthesizer in Ortho too?” -> Ortho “sounds fun! I wanted to sing too.” ->Idia “alright~ let big brother handle everything.” -> so to test how far the vocal synthesizer can go, Ortho is here to take the audition -> Ace was surprised that they can just make singing sounds from programs -> Cater said those got quite popular and he likes it too, and wanted to show Grim a video of it -> there was an ad

Neige is promoting in the ad -> Cater mentioned how popular he is getting -> Vil, Rook, and Epel kicked in with sparkling effects -> Vil started introducing himself and explains how he will be the producer for the members appears in VDC

Auditions starts -> Ruggie sung and danced

-> Rook “monsieur dandelion. Such a light step and bright smile. With manliness and loveliness combined perfectly. Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “his way of moving isn’t bad, but his dancing and singing is still messy… next!”

Cater -> Rook “monsieur magcam. Your voice sounds just like the elegant sparkling diamond! I wanted to listen to it forever. Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “singing and dancing wasn’t bad, but I can’t feel any passions… next!”

Lilia -> Rook “monsieur curiosity. Such a lovely form and singing voice with an alluring aura… Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “I don’t know why… but I can’t feel any freshness of a high school student from Lilia. Next!”

Ortho -> Rook “monsieur doll. What a brand-new style…! Your robot dance and singing voice, will be sculpted into my eyes. Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “no matter how genre-less this event is, there’s a limit… next!”

Kalim -> Rook “lord gold! Your dance were just like the breeze that blow through the hot sand! And the singing that make me felt like flying. Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “hmm, it’s a little bit better than the vegetables that’s just rolling around.”

Jamil -> Rook “monsieur mulch. As expected… I can feel your buring soul underneath your cool mask! Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “not bad, he’s the most normal one out of all of them.”

Epel -> Rook “monsieur crabapple. So lovely! Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “that kid, misstep again, no matter how good was his rehearse, it would be meaningless if he can’t do good in the real deal. Also, Rook. aren’t you giving out nothing but 100 points? Are you judging seriously?” -> Rook “of course, but it’s so hard to pick a first when everyone are so wonderful. There’s beauty in the neatness, and there’s also beauty in the twisted. Don’t you think so?” -> last group -> Ace, Deuce, and Grim -> Rook “…I see I see.” -> end of the audition -> result will come out tomorrow -> Rook recommend the trio to Vil

Next day, Ace, Deuce, Grim just got off from class -> suddenly an arrow flies across barely missed Deuce’s nose -> Ace realized there’s a piece of paper on the arrow -> Deuce “what!? Is it a challenge to fight!?” -> Ace “stop connect everything to a fight, let me see…” -> both Ace and Deuce are accepted -> you are also asked to go with those two

You all headed towards Pomefiore -> you saw both Kalim and Jamil -> they are accepted as well -> but after going in Pomefiore, students keep showing up asking for fight -> finally you arrived to the ballroom

-> Vil showed up with sparkling effects again -> apparently the students are fighting with you because you are accepted members, it was a warm up Vil prepared for all of you so he can start the lesson right away -> Vil “listen up, start from now on we would be the representation for NRC, and aim for the first place in the VDC. The members that can’t even win a fight like that is not needed. The battle has already started and all of you should be prepared to be whipped to shape!” -> Kalim “I don’t really understand but okay!” -> Grim asks why are him and you here when you are not accepted -> Crowley showed up and explained, in order to practice for the team work, all of the members will live together in Ramshakle dorm -> Grim wanted to refuse -> but Vil and Rook said they will give you all of their reward money since their goal in this event is not money -> which is around 1.42 million -> you decided to accept the deal after all ->Vil “now let’s start the lesson!” -> Ace “I thought the lesson starts when we starts living together?” -> Vil “don’t get a big head, new potato number 1. You are still an amateur at singing and dancing, we can’t waste a single minute.” -> practice time.

End of this update.

Oh man it tooks me a whole entire day to do this… and to think this is just like part a of part1. The chapters are getting so much longer…

I Honestly felt like I missed up half of Rook’s nicknames since I don’t know French at all, basically got everything from google so please correct me if I’m wrong.

Also, Rook’s nickname for Epel is kinda weird, he call Epel hime ringo which directly translate to princess apple, but it is also a type of apple. In English it’s called crabapple, which kind of feels different then the Japanese text.

Can I just say I love the fact that we can fight Crewel now? And I just love how he call us zasshu while fighting, it probably referenced to like mixed blood dogs and all but it only reminds me of Gilgamesh lol.

Ahhh I really want Crewel to slap me.

372 notes · View notes

petri808 · 4 years ago

Text

Pranks Are So Revealing Sometimes…

@itafushiweek One bed prompt

After everything had finally settled and damages were assessed to Tokyo jujutsu high following the Kamo incident, the faculty decided it was time for a full renovation. They would fix the damaged areas but also update other undamaged parts. Including the dorms according to their teacher. The students were given a schedule of when each of their rooms would be worked on and given boxes to pack their belongings for temporary storage.

“Don’t worry,” Gojo grinned. “Shouldn’t take more than a day or two per room.”

“Yeah, okay,” Megumi stared back up at his teacher after reading the information. “But where are we supposed to sleep if our room is being renovated?”

“Oh, well since the unoccupied rooms will also be renovated during this process…” the man tapped his chin. “Got it! You bunk with Yuuji, then switch when it’s his rooms turn.”

“Cool! A sleepover!” Yuuji pumped his fists in the air. “We can hang out and watch movies and eat junk food and just crash from a food coma.”

Megumi swallowed thickly with a groan. “I’d rather you give me your credit card,” directing his comment to Gojo, “so I can get a hotel room.”

“No, can do buddy. Come on, it won’t be that bad.”

Yuuji threw an arm over Megumi’s. “It’ll be fine,” his brilliant smile causing the man’s cheeks to redden. “Movies and food, we’ll have fun.”

Megumi looked away and crossed his arms over his chest. “Ugh! Fine!”

“Good.” Gojo patted his student on the shoulder. “Now that’s settled, get packing young Megumi. Tomorrow we’ll be starting with your room.”

With Yuuji’s help, it didn’t take long for Megumi to pack up his belongings. There really wasn’t much, fitting everything into 3 medium sized boxes. Mostly clothes, some books, and minor items. He packed a bag with just enough to be displaced a couple of days, and if the renovations took longer, he could probably just borrow clothes from Yuuji. They were roughly the same size anyway. The boxes were then taken to Yuuji’s room and stacked in a corner out of the way.

But the full toll of the situation didn’t really hit Megumi until the morning of the renovations. He was awoken around 7 am by Gojo, letting him know the construction workers would be there in 15 minutes. Great. So, he dragged himself out of bed and walked into Yuuji’s room planning to get a couple more hours of sleep. It should be fine considering Yuuji rarely got up early on a day off.

The problem was— ‘Only one bed…’ Megumi groaned internally as he swiped his hand down his face. Duh! How could he have missed this detail?! And there was no way to fit a second bed in the room since they were only designed for single occupancy.

“Ugh…” Megumi shuffled back out of the room in irritation. Guess he’ll just go get breakfast and figure out what to do next!

Look, he didn’t have a problem sharing a bed with another person. It’s just sleeping on a bed instead of the hardwood floor, what’s the issue with that? If it was anyone else, Nobara, Toge, Maki, Yuta, whatever— no problem. The PROBLEM is it’s Yuuji. Maybe one of them will let him stay with them? Megumi put his head down on the kitchen table with his arms over his head in frustration. No… that would be weird to ask. Gojo already made all the arrangements between everyone, so if he suddenly had an issue with it, they might find that suspicious and he really didn’t need them asking questions, or worse teasing him about it.

He could hear it all too. What’s wrong with Yuuji? You worried something might happen? Too afraid to confront your feelings. Wink, wink. Aww that’s so cute you’re embarrassed. But Yuuji’s a good catch. Yada, Yada. Maki’s monotone, “just man up” tone was not something Megumi wanted to hear. ‘It’s just a night or two… no big deal. He’ll sleep on one side; I’ll sleep on the other. What could go wrong?’

“Morning!”

Megumi’s body immediately went stiff at the sound of Yuuji voice. Damn guy was like a cat this morning, he never heard him come in! Or did he just miss it because he was too wrapped up in his mind?

“Yeah… morning,” Megumi responded as he sat up in his chair and pretended everything was fine. “Sorry, I didn’t make coffee or anything yet.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I can make breakfast. Want some?” Yuuji responded in his chipper way.

“Sure, since you’re offering.”

“I see they started working on your room. That’s what woke me up.”

“Huh? Oh yeah, That’s why I’m up too. Gojo kicked me out at 7.”

“Oh, if you were tired, you could’ve just gone back to sleep in my room.”

“Nah. I’m fine.”

“You still look tired.”

“I’m fine.”

“If you say so,” Yuuji placed a plate of food in front of his friend, then sat down across from him with his own. “So, got any plans for today?”

“Not really.”

“I was thinking of grabbing some snacks from the store for tonight.”

“Something happening tonight?”

“Movie night! Remember?”

“You were serious about that?!”

“Of course! We rarely have time to relax, so this is a perfect opportunity.”

“Well, since I’m stuck in your room… what movie are you picking?”

“You can choose. I don’t really care. How about I’m in charge of snacks and you grab the movies.”

“Fine. I’ll dig something up.”

The pair part ways for the rest of the day. Megumi felt it best to keep himself occupied so he wouldn’t think about that night. So, after breakfast he got some training in with Yuta and Maki who between the two really kept him on his toes. The construction work on his room sounded a lot more extensive than Gojo had relayed based on all the noise coming from within. Someone had placed a “do not enter” sign on the door, and so when Megumi walked past it, he didn’t bother peeking. By the time he returned from shopping around 5pm, it was silent. ‘Guess they’re done for the day.’ But since the sign was still up, it wasn’t finished. ‘Ugh, it better be done by tomorrow night.’

“Hey, Megumi!”

Megumi froze in place. Damn it with Yuuji sneaking up on him! He turned around. “Yeah?”

“I got food!” Yuuji held up two plastic bags stuffed full. “Dinner, snacks, drinks. Did you grab the movies?”

Megumi pulled three DVD cases out of his shopping bag and showed it to his friend. Three movies would kill about six hours, which meant sleeping right after they were finished, equaled less dead time to worry about.

“Sweet! Let’s get started!”

The moment of dread was upon Megumi the instant he walked into Yuuji’s room and laid eyes on that single bed. And as the dorm mate puttered around oblivious to his nervousness, he just watched quietly as the man plopped the bags onto the bed and grabbed a laptop from the desk. This was it, no turning back now.

“Why are you just standing there?” Yuuji questioned with laughter in his tone and patted the bed. “Come on, before the food gets cold.”

Megumi rolled his eyes as if nothing was wrong, but his heartbeat picked up the pace with each step towards the bed. He should be happy that Yuuji was so oblivious to emotions, and yet a part of him was annoyed… maybe disappointed… Megumi quickly shut those thoughts down as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“So, just to get it out of the way. How is this gonna work? Like which side do I sleep on?” Megumi questioned.

Yuuji stopped fusing with a food container and looked over. “Oh, hmm, doesn’t matter to me. I can sleep on either side.”

Well since he was already on one side. “I’ll just take this side I’m on then.”

Yuuji gave him a thumbs up. “Pass me the first movie.”

The first movie… all the movies he’d chosen were just action types. Megumi wanted something with as little romance as possible and knew Yuuji didn’t mind action or horror. Frankly, he thought it was funny his friend still loved horror after becoming a jujutsu sorcerer. Don’t they see enough of it in real life? Between the movies and the eating, he was pleasantly surprised to find that Yuuji became so engrossed in what was on the screen, it helped his anxieties stay lowered.

Megumi had taken up a position with his back against the wall sitting upright, and legs stretched out in front of him, while Yuuji was next to him with about a foot of space between them. Mid-way through the third movie, Megumi was genuinely paying attention since he’d never seen it before, when he felt a pressure against his shoulder. His eyes flared, cheeks heated up, and adrenaline spiked his heart rate. Yuuji had fallen asleep against his shoulder. No kidding this guy could fall asleep anywhere! Versus him who was too wide awake now to even think about it.

The last thing he wanted to do was awaken the sleeping man and make things even more awkward. So, Megumi tried to gently push his friend away to simply rest against the wall. His first several tries failed, but on the fourth, success… briefly.

“Mmm,” Yuuji stirred without waking and shifted on his own to curl up in Megumi’s lap instead!

‘Fuck, my life!’ Megumi screamed in his head. Things just went from bad to a disaster!

Again, Megumi tried to shift the man away, but every time he tried Yuuji would whine.

“Stop moving…” Yuuji mumbled and wrapped his arms around Megumi’s waist, snuggling his face deeper into the man’s leg.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Megumi gritted out in a muffled anger. By now, his whole body felt like it’d been stuck in a furnace and was being roasted alive. Ugh! Yuuji had turned into a damn octopus clinging to its meal! And yet… Megumi had to admit the man was cute as he slept. Geez, he even smiled in his sleep!

Not much he could really do, Megumi exhaled in defeat. So, he did his best to turn off the laptop screen using his foot and shift it close enough to reach. He then grabbed it and placed it onto the nightstand next to the bed, leaving them in a darkened room with only the gentle breathing of Yuuji as any sound. Okay, fine! Megumi counseled himself. Just ignore the fact there’s someone attached to you and try to get some sleep. The faster he went to sleep, the faster the nightmare would end. So, he shifted his body to lie down, then turned over onto his side hoping Yuuji would also readjust.

And the man did, just not in a way Megumi wanted. Yuuji simply snuggled up to his back and weaved an arm around his torso like he was one of those giant stuffed animals you win at a fair! He pushed the arm away, but it sprang back into place.

Megumi screamed in his head. He was so tired… ‘just ignore it, ignore it, ignore it…’

The sound of birds chirping caused Megumi to rouse the next morning. Perfect, his torture was over, it was time to get up— ‘Why was the pillow so hard—’ his eyes opened in a panic as his hand felt the unmistakable sensation of muscle beneath clothing. Without moving an inch only his eyes shifted over and saw the outline of Yuuji’s body lying on his back and he was curled up against his side! ‘Oh, fuck!’

Fight or flight kicked into overdrive as Megumi sprang from the bed like a cat and bolted out of the room. Every nerve ending along his skin was on fire and his mind freaking out, praying Yuuji had slept through it all. ‘This is gonna be so awkward if— What the?!’

As soon as he made it out of the room, Megumi almost ran right smack into Gojo. The man had one hand on Megumi’s bedroom door and the other carried a cursed doll, like the one Yuuji had trained with to practice energy control. “What is that for?”

Realizing he was busted, Gojo slipped the doll behind his back. “Nothing. I was just gonna check on the progress.”

“Uh-huh…” Megumi’s eyebrow raised, instantly suspicious. “Well, let’s just check,” he opened the door himself and walked in. “What’s going on?!” He whipped around. “Are they finished?” Because his room looked exactly like he’d left it the morning before. And he meant exactly!

“Really?!” Gojo pretended to be surprised. “That was quick! Looks like you can move back in. Well, see you at breakfast.”

Gojo turned to leave but Megumi grabbed his shoulder.

“Oi! What the hell?! There was no construction was there you prick?!”

“Nonsense! They must’ve finished yesterday.”

Megumi narrowed a menacing glare at the teacher. “That damn doll was the one making all the noise, wasn’t it?”

“Um… no…”

“And you were about to plant it for a second day!”

“Of course, not! I’m just carrying it around…”

“You’re such a shit liar!”

“Careful Megumi, might wanna keep your voice down lest wake up Yuuji.”

“What do I care if he wakes up now?”

“He’ll find you missing and the bed empty and be sad.” Gojo grinned defiantly then took off in a sprint, cackling like a mad man down the hall.

Bastard pranked him! Megumi screamed as he took off after the man. “I’M GONNA KILL YOU!”

#itafushi week #itafushi #itafushi fan fiction #itafushi fan fic #itadori yuuji #megumi fushiguro #satoru gojo #one bed prompt #fushita

52 notes · View notes