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roosterforme · 8 months

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Always Ever Only You Part 30 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley's excitement over the first set of ultrasound photos is unparalleled. He has never been so happy and so overwhelmed in his life, but at times he feels ill equipped to process everything that's happening. And the last thing he wants is to make you feel like he's growing tired of you.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy topics, doctors, angst, fluff

Length: 6600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley wanted to be able to explain it to you, but he wasn't really sure he could. Sitting in the waiting room with you and anticipating an ultrasound to see the baby was honestly more than he ever thought he could have. You were more than he ever thought he deserved, and you wanted him anyway. But a baby?

He barely had a baseline to build off of. His dad died when he was young enough that he only had a handful of fleeting memories. The sound of a laugh. Two big hands lifting him up when he fell. A lullaby sung softly as he drifted off to sleep. Besides the photos that you and he collected from his storage unit and the stories his mom recounted when he was younger, that's all he had.

But he could practically hear his mom telling him how excited Nick Bradshaw was to be a dad. Bradley could remember the joy in her voice whenever she told him about the way she would catch father and son goofing off together. She was adamant that Bradley cried almost nonstop the first day his dad was gone for a deployment. And now Bradley desperately wished he could remember these little details that made up their relationship. Because soon, god willing, he was going to be on the other side of things: the parent who loves goofing off and singing, but who also gets deployed and causes tears to fall.

It was all too overwhelming for him to put into words, but as he laced his fingers with yours, he knew he didn't have to figure out how to do everything all at once.

"Are you nervous?" you asked.

Bradley looked at your open expression and immediately felt better. Talking through things and sharing his thoughts was the best way to keep from driving himself crazy while also letting you know how important you were. "Excited," he replied, kissing your cheek and ear. "Just really fucking excited. I've been thinking... about starting a notebook. Kind of for the baby? Like how sometimes I like to write down what I'm thinking and feeling for myself."

He still felt silly at times for sharing the notebooks with you, but you nodded with a little smile on your lips. "I love your deployment notebooks. I love what you wrote about me."

He reached for you and kissed you without hesitation. "I think I want the baby to be able to read about how much I was looking forward to meeting them. When they're older, I mean. They can read about how I feel like my heart is going to pound out of my chest right now. And how I can't wait to hold them and give them a name. All about how much I love their mom."

Bradley let you bury your face against his neck. It didn't feel like you were hiding from him so much as giving him a taste of the kind of response he'd get if the two of you were alone. "I like that idea." You kissed the side of his neck and said, "I adore you, Roo. You'll be the best daddy."

Bradley almost laughed when you jolted in your seat after the nurse called your name. "Come on back, you two," she said with a smile. "Hopefully mom and dad can leave with some new family photos."

"Holy shit," Bradley replied, palms suddenly sweaty. Baby photos. He was on his feet in an instant, ready to go. And maybe this was what his dad felt like. Perhaps his parents didn't know what they were doing either, but rather they just counted themselves lucky to go along for the ride. He wished one of them had left him a notebook.

You were smiling up at him as he reached for your hand again, and your fingers felt sure and steady all wrapped up with his. "I'm excited, too," you whispered, answering your own question from earlier while he ran his thumb along your rings. "And maybe a little nervous."

"I'm right here," he promised as the two of you followed the nurse into a room filled with equipment. "I'm not going anywhere."

He kissed you and then begrudgingly let go of your hand when the nurse gave you a hospital gown to change into. As she left the room with the promise that your doctor would be in shortly, Bradley dragged his palms across his khaki covered thighs as he sat down and watched you change. Even though you were suffering from near constant nausea, he thought you looked incredible. Your face was glowing, and you kept looking at him with adoration in your eyes.

"Jesus," he grunted when you removed your bra. Was it possible that today he was the hornier one for once? "Sweetheart. Your tits," he whispered as he ran a hand over his face while you giggled. "Unreal." Then your underwear went sliding down your legs, and he reached down to help you out of them. "Hand me the gown," he told you as he folded your underwear across his knee.

You slipped into the gown when he held it open for you, and then you stood between his legs while he secured the ties and kissed you through the fabric. Your laughter filled the small room, and when the doctor walked in, she found you sitting on Bradley's lap while he ran his knuckles gently across your belly.

"I'm Dr. Morris," she said, shaking hands with you as you stood and then reaching for Bradley's. "I love it when partners show up for appointments, too. It's a lot more fun."

He watched Dr. Morris help you up onto the table, immediately missing your warm body next to his. "I plan on being here for every appointment unless I'm deployed." Your smile faltered a little bit at his words, so he added, "And even then, I'd steal a jet and fly in for a few hours. This is that important to me."

Your smile was restored and then some. Bradley scooted the chair a little closer when you reached for his hand as Dr. Morris started to ask you some questions and enter them into the software. "Do you recall when you last menstruated? I'd like to calculate a due date assuming we find a healthy fetus."

Once you told her the date of your last period, Bradley blurted out, "Why wouldn't it be healthy?"

Now he had two pairs of eyes on him as you squeezed his sweaty hand. "It's very early," Dr. Morris said. "Complications are more likely to occur in the first trimester than in the second or third. And your wife is just between seven and eight weeks along based on her cycle."

"Oh," Bradley said, swallowing hard. You'd tried to tell him all of this information before, letting him know it was too early to inform your parents or Nat or any of your other friends. But it felt somehow wrong coming from someone else. He didn't like this information when it was laid out before him in the exam room.

"It's okay, Roo," you told him, a sweet smile still on your face. So he nodded and watched your lips and the curve of your cheek as you answered a few more questions and asked about prenatal vitamins.

Then eventually Dr. Morris said the only words Bradley really wanted to hear right now. "Let's see what we can find with the ultrasound."

He was sitting on the edge of his seat, elbow leaning on the exam table as he gripped your hand for dear life. As excited as he'd been, now he was on the verge of being sick. What if he'd been too rough with you in bed? What if the football at the beach really did hit you in the wrong spot? What if all of the vomiting had been worse than either of you considered?

One thing was for certain. Bradley was going to love you no matter what, until his dying day. So he held onto your hand and kissed your knuckles as Dr. Morris squeezed lube onto a wand that looked a bit like one of the vibrators you had at home. "Is that for the ultrasound?" he asked, watching you spread your legs wider.

"Yes," the doctor replied, and a huge computer monitor lit up. "We need to get really up close at this stage to be able to see anything, so we're doing a transvaginal ultrasound today. The ones you're thinking of that use a paddle on the belly will come later."

"Right," he replied, and as soon as she slipped the wand inside you, he watched you purse your lips in slight discomfort. "You okay, Sweetheart?" he whispered, eyes glued to your face for any sign of pain. But your pinched expression melted away, and your lips parted softly as you sighed and stared at the computer monitor.

"Oh. Oh, Bradley! Look!"

When he turned toward the screen, he slowly stood as you pulled his hand closer to your body and held it with both of yours. Everything looked a little fuzzy at first, just some gray and black shapes. But then a cute little bean started to take shape as Dr. Morris adjusted the wand, and Bradley rasped, "Is that the baby?"

"Yes," she replied evenly, also watching the monitor. "And everything looks great."

Warmth spread through his entire body as Bradley huffed out a laugh while you giggled. He wasn't sure if his hand was shaking or if it was yours, but he leaned down and kissed your wrists before finding your lips with his. "That's our baby," he whispered, kissing you once more.

"It's adorable," you said, smiling nonstop. "Like a little bean, or a chicken nugget."

Bradley leaned on the table, keeping as close to you as he could. "I'm already so in love." He could feel tears in his eyes as Dr. Morris froze the screen. "Is it over?" he asked in a slight panic. In all honesty, he could happily spend the rest of the day right here with you and the baby, and he wasn't prepared to say goodbye yet.

"Just capturing some images," she reassured him. "Baby's first picture."

"Oh my god," Bradley groaned softly, and you ran your fingers through his hair as he ducked his head against your shoulder. "That's the first picture, Baby Girl."

"The baby looks just like you, Roo," you told him with a laugh, and he kissed you until the doctor cleared her throat.

"Let's see what we can find if we zoom in a little more."

With rapt attention once again, Bradley stared at the screen. It looked like the baby was bouncing around a bit, wiggling to an unknown song. "Is that movement good?" he asked. "And what's that little flickering spot?"

"Very good," she replied. "And the flickering is the heartbeat."

"The heartbeat?" That was inexplicably what threw him over the edge as a tear managed to squeeze its way down his cheek when he blinked. "Holy shit."

He just let his head rest against your chest and basked in the feel of your fingers in his hair as you whispered, "I love you." Bradley had no idea if you were talking to him or the baby. Or maybe both. Or maybe you loved Dr. Morris, because in this moment he certainly did as she snapped more photos. Maybe you loved everything right now just like he did.

"I love you, too."

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

Bradley was falling apart as you ran your fingertips along his scarred cheek. Or perhaps he was completely keeping it together. You weren't really sure. He had some tears in his eyes even though he was smiling, and the two of you were holding onto each other.

"Do you want to listen to the heartbeat as well?" Dr. Morris asked, and the two of you responded at the same time.

"Yes!"

She laughed and adjusted the ultrasound wand inside you which was actually extremely uncomfortable, but you were starting to think Bradley would cry harder when she removed it. And then you heard it. Dr. Morris adjusted something on the control panel, and set a device on your belly, and you could hear the heartbeat.

"Why is it so fast?" Bradley asked, squeezing your hand. "That's like really fast."

Now your heartbeat was picking up, but Dr. Morris said, "One hundred and fifty two beats per minute. That's perfectly where it should be."

"Oh, okay," Bradley sighed, eyes transfixed on the monitor. "That's good then. That's a strong Bradshaw heartbeat right there. Can you take another picture? The nugget looks really cute like that."

You laughed and reached for him when she eventually shut off the equipment and removed the wand. At Bradley's request, she printed out enough copies of each image that you'd be able to give them to your parents, all of your friends and even Bradley's cousin Brenda in Virginia.

"This seems like overkill," you whispered as the printer just kept going and going.

"It's not," he promised. "I need all of them to wallpaper my locker and fill my helmet bag. Just a bunch of pictures of you and now the baby, too."

"We'll get more ultrasound photos at the next appointment. And the next one after that," you reminded him.

"Good. We'll have enough to wallpaper at home, too." Eased himself back down into the chair as you sat up a little bit while Dr. Morris cleaned up her workstation.

"When is the due date?" you asked suddenly.

"March 24th," she replied, and you and Bradley shared a smile. "Do either of you have any other questions for me?" she asked as she handed a massive stack of ultrasound photos to your husband who looked like he just won the lottery.

"When can we find out if it's a girl or a boy?" he asked, looking through the images with a crooked little grin on his face.

"In the second trimester," she assured him. "You'll make a special appointment for an anatomy scan."

You cleared your throat and said, "So... I've been really quite... I'm sure it's the hormones and everything, but I've been extremely aroused for the past few weeks." Bradley gave you a wide eyed look as you asked, "Basically, I want my husband around the clock right now, and I want to know if that's normal?"

He let out a strangled choking sound, and his cheeks started to flush pink as Dr. Morris said, "That's totally normal. Have at it."

You pressed your lips together before you quickly asked, "And rough is okay? Like pretty rough."

"Yep," she replied, completely unfazed by your words as Bradley looked like he wanted to run out of the room with his stack of baby pictures. "Anything else?"

A smile crept to your lips, one that Bradley would have probably found alarming if he were looking anywhere else except the door at the moment. "Actually, yes. I do have one more question for you, Dr. Morris. Based on the size of the baby and the date of my last period, can you tell me when you think the baby was conceived?"

"Sure," she replied, turning the monitor back on and scrolling through all of the information in your electronic file.

"You did not just ask her that," Bradley whispered, his voice deep with annoyance and maybe a little bit of desire as you grinned at him and bit your lip.

"I would say you probably conceived right around June 27th."

You squealed with delight as Bradley groaned. "Thank you so much, Dr. Morris. We'll see you again in a few weeks."

When she left the room, you hopped off the table and started to untie your gown, pausing to pump your fist in the air while Bradley held his forehead in his hand. "Okay, okay. You win," he whined as he laughed. "You win."

"I told you the baby was conceived in the Honda!"

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

Later that night, Bradley kept reminding himself that Dr. Morris said rough sex was okay. That seemed to be the only way you wanted it as you got on all fours on the bed and said, "Fuck me hard, Daddy." And Bradley was never going to be one to deny his wife anything she asked for.

Beads of sweat were rolling down his face, occasionally dripping onto your back as he leaned over you. He was panting next to your ear as he went as hard as he could, fucking you until your knees buckled and he had to hold you up. "You know, I used to have a wife who liked it sweet sometimes. I wonder what happened to her?"

"You knocked her up," you gasped as he rubbed your clit with his fingers.

Fuck, he was getting close, and your words were not helping in the least. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come for Daddy."

A few more swipes of his fingers and a little more dirty talk, and you were coming. Holy hell, you were coming hard, which was a good thing, because Bradley needed a break. You released an unholy moan as your legs gave out again, and this time, he let you sink down to the bed as he grabbed his cock in time to come all over your ass and your back.

"Roo," you gasped as he painted you up, and you met his eyes over your shoulder. "That's so fucking hot!"

"I'm glad you think so," he grunted before he sprawled out on the bed next to you on his back. "I got nothing left in the tank, Sweetheart. Do not ask me for more tonight."

You crawled over to kiss his sweaty face and whispered, "You did so good," as you patted his abs adoringly. "You're already the world's best Daddy." Then you leaned down and cleaned his cum from the head of his cock with your tongue, and Bradley moaned as you climbed out of bed. "I'm going to shower and get ready for bed."

He raised his hand in a wave or surrender, he wasn't quite sure which. Forty-five minutes of nailing you until you screamed his name was the most intense workout he'd had in weeks. He needed to hit his home gym in the garage a little harder. Maybe he could invite Jake over to lift weights with him, and then he could sneak away and take a nap while you and Jake had one of your gossip sessions. That actually sounded pretty great.

Bradley managed to get out of bed long enough to let Tramp out and brush his teeth. By that point, you were getting out of the shower and drying yourself off, humming and sighing softly.

"I know what you're trying to do," he said with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "And it's not gonna work."

You looked at him with one eyebrow raised as you ran the towel across your chest. "I'm sorry. What exactly am I trying to do that's not going to work?"

He spit out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, sending a glare at you in the mirror. "Look at your fucking tits, Sweetheart. Now you're just flaunting them."

"I'm literally just standing here."

He shook his head and kissed your forehead as he walked past. "You know what you did."

When you slipped in bed next to him, he pulled you close while you laughed softly. You were wearing nothing except for his old UVA shirt, and when you curled up next to him, he pushed you gently onto your back. Then he yanked the shirt up and shimmied under the covers so his lips were next to your tummy.

He kissed up and down your side before laying with his cheek on your hip and one hand on your belly. "Listen kid, I don't know what you're doing in there, but I need you to chill, okay? Someday soon, you'll get to see how pretty and perfect your mommy is. Yes, I think about her all day long. Yes, I love her, but I can only take so much. Your old man is an old man."

You lifted up the covers, and Bradley felt your fingers in his hair. "No, you're not."

He kissed the spot just below your belly button before returning to his pillow. "I'll be close to thirty-eight when this little nugget arrives."

"That's not old."

When you curled up on him this time, he collected you in his arms. If you were surprised by his words, you didn't let on. "My dad died when he was twenty-nine. My mom died when she was forty-two. You're a bit younger than me, not that I mind. But my age is something I think about a lot. I'm older than all my friends. I like to be prepared for things before I jump into them. I like to feel out my surroundings. Except when it comes to you, apparently."

You snuggled in a little closer, voice soft as you asked, "What do you mean?"

Bradley kissed your fingers before lacing them with his in the dark bedroom. "I was all in with you as soon as you looked at me. Zero hesitation. No turning back."

You buried your face in his chest and moaned. "You can't just talk about me like that. It makes me insane for you," came your muffled voice, and Bradley laughed.

"I guess I never had any hesitation about us having kids either. And I'm just saying... it's nice to have time to think about the baby before the baby actually gets here. But I'm also in my head a lot right now about my parents and how much more flying I've got left in me and how I don't actually know how the fuck to take care of a baby."

"Bradley!" Your voice was scolding as you propped yourself up on him. "We're a team. And I wouldn't lie to you. You're not old, and I'm pretty sure nobody actually knows how to take care of a baby until they have one in front of them. Then you just kind of do it, I guess. The fact that you are so excited about this pregnancy is at least half of what's turning me on so much. You will be the best dad imaginable, because you love me so well, and I don't doubt you have more of that to give."

He was exhausted, and your words settled over him like something he could physically feel. "I really am so excited. Today felt like a dream. I just want to cover the whole house in the ultrasound photos, and I can't wait to get another smaller paper airplane tattoo."

He felt your fingers trace his tattoo in the darkness. You knew exactly where it was without guidance just like he knew exactly where yours was. "You'll get it right here? With the baby's name on it?"

"Yeah," he whispered, starting to feel like he was going to doze off.

"I have a question," you said, and he squeezed your hand softly. "Earlier you asked when we can find out if it's a boy or a girl."

He smiled at the hesitation in your voice. "What's your question?"

Bradley could feel your heartbeat against his body, and he thought about how he had been able to see and hear what the baby was doing just a few hours ago. The beautiful sound of that rapid heartbeat that belonged to his child.

"Do you care? If it's a boy or a girl?"

"No," he answered honestly. "Not one bit. I just care that it's ours."

"Me too. I'm happy either way." Your words sounded soft and dreamy, and he believed them.

"I love you both. Now let the old man sleep."

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

The rest of the week felt like a bit of a reality check. You tried taking the prenatal vitamins from Dr. Morris, but you threw them back up almost instantly every single time. "Just skip them," Bradley said on Friday morning as you threw up in the toilet when you were trying to get dressed for work.

"I can't," you practically wailed. "They are supposed to keep me healthy so I can keep the baby healthy." You looked up at him from where you were sitting on the floor.

He sighed and checked the time. "Why don't you just stay home today? You're looking pretty green, and it's Friday anyway. Text Bickel."

Anger flared inside you. He was standing there looking nice and tidy in his khakis while you were on the floor turning yours into a wrinkly mess. And the reason for that was the fact that you had to deal with all of this shit. He just got to enjoy your libido while being excited about the baby. You really didn't want to start resenting him right now when you were leaving for Maryland soon.

"I can't just skip work on a whim like what I'm doing isn't important," you snapped. "I'm trying to get my presentation ready for Annapolis, in case you forgot you offered to help me with that."

He was on his knees in an instant with your chin in his hand. "Hey, that's not what I meant. I just don't want you overexerting yourself, especially since your work is important and you'll be traveling soon."

You still felt bitchy, even though he made you peanut butter crackers and took Tramp for a walk while you stayed curled up in bed for an extra twenty minutes. "That's right. I'll be gone for a week. I'm sure you're looking forward to having a break from the near constant sex."

You used the vanity to pull yourself to your feet while your stomach lurched, even though he was holding his hand out to help you. "Look at me," he demanded without touching you at all. You didn't want to, but you shifted your gaze to his face as he stood too. "If you really think that's true, then we have a serious problem. I'm going to assume that you feel the need to take your nausea out on me, and that's fine. I don't really mind. That's what I'm here for. But do not accuse me of ever wanting to be separated from you."

You pressed your lips together and just nodded as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. You didn't want to be away from him either, but you felt another wave of sickness rolling through your body.

"I need to go, Sweetheart. I'll stop and get you some of those ginger pills on my way home. Maybe they'll help. I love you."

After he left, you threw up again and fought the urge to throw the bottle of prenatal vitamins across the bathroom. Even now you were horny enough that you considered climbing back in bed with your vibrator to take the edge off, but you knew nothing would be as good as the real thing. And you'd have to apologize to Bradley before you could have that, and it would undoubtedly make you cry when you did.

When you finally made your way back out to the kitchen, you found more peanut butter crackers arranged on a plate in the shape of a heart with one of the ultrasound photos next to it. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to call your husband, but it went to voicemail. You listened to his raspy voice before ending the call and texting him instead.

I'm sorry. If you want Marry Me Rooster for dinner, pick up some chicken along with the ginger pills.

After you tucked the ultrasound picture in the new Bronco, you spent your whole morning sitting quietly with Cat, the two of you going over each presentation slide with a fine tooth comb. "Is that calculation correct?" she asked, pulling out a calculator.

"It fucking better be. I did it myself. Months ago."

She looked at you with wide eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you lied, anxious that Bradley hadn't responded to your text. Two days ago, you were having the absolute time of your life with Dr. Morris, and now you wanted to scream. "Can we just finish this?" you said through gritted teeth as Cat checked your math which was obviously done correctly.

"That's what we're working on," she said smoothly, using her mom voice on you and making your nerves prickle. "Finishing the slides so we can spend next week practicing and getting our notes in order for all of these meetings and cocktail receptions."

The last thing you wanted to do right now was pretend you were drinking alcohol while trying not to vomit. Nothing about this trip to Annapolis seemed appealing. And you didn't want to have to try to hide your pregnancy from your parents if you drove to see them one night.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Cat asked, and you had to steel your spine as you nodded.

"I'm perfect." There was no point in making her mad at you when the two of you would be in close quarters for several days, so you rolled your shoulders and got back to work.

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

Asking Jake if he wanted to workout actually wasn't the best idea Bradley had come up with recently. It would be nice to have someone to spot for him at the weight bench, but if you were making his favorite dinner, he'd rather spend the time with you.

"Fuck," he groaned as Jake followed him to the grocery store on his way home. Apparently he needed protein powder and didn't mind that Bradley had to stop for chicken. Of course now he had to try to discreetly grab the ginger pills that you wanted to try for your nausea.

It ended up being easier than he thought since Jake took fifteen minutes to decide which flavor of protein powder he wanted. He was still looking at them when Bradley went back to that aisle. "Are you almost done?"

Jake shot him a nasty look from where he was squatting at the bottom shelf. "Listen, it would go faster if I didn't get hit on constantly when I'm wearing my uniform."

Bradley rolled his eyes so hard, he was afraid he'd get a migraine. "Keep it in your fucking pants. I'll meet you at my house."

Jake grabbed a container and followed him to the registers. When they passed a hot sauce display, he grabbed one and handed it to Bradley. "Get this for Angel, and maybe you'll get laid. Sounds like you need it."

"It's literally the last thing I need," he mumbled, but paid for it anyway along with the ginger and the chicken. When Bradley slid his credit card back in his wallet, he saw the corner of the ultrasound image he had tucked in there last night. He unfolded it and took a peek as Jake paid for his powder. You were everything. And the baby was everything. And he should have been a little more patient with you this morning.

"You coming?" Jake asked, and Bradley shoved the nugget photo back inside his wallet before slipping it into his pocket.

You were already home, and Bradley parked the blue Bronco next to the red one. Jake came careening into the driveway, stopping about two inches from the back of the new Bronco. "Show her a little respect, okay?"

Jake snorted as he climbed out. "You literally fucked the other car to bits. I didn't do shit."

Bradley groaned as he walked inside with Jake on his heels. The first thing he saw was you in the kitchen, feeding Tramp a treat. You had on some skin tight yoga pants and a little shirt without a bra, and you turned to him and said, "Can we talk?" He opened his mouth to tell you that you could have any damn thing you wanted, and then you said, "Hi, Jake," with a look of surprise on your face. "I didn't know you were coming over."

"Hey, Angel," Jake crooned, walking into the kitchen and pulling you in for a tight hug. Shit, Bradley forgot to text you and let you know he wasn't going to be alone. "Didn't see you at lunch today."

"I worked through lunch," you replied, your eyes on Bradley. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Nah, just going to lift weights out in the garage with Rooster for a bit. I'll be out of your hair after that."

"You can stay if you want," you told him, but he was already heading toward the hallway bathroom with his gym bag. "Why didn't you tell me he was coming over?" you whispered. "I'm not even wearing underwear, and you left one of the ultrasound photos on the fridge."

Bradley quickly pulled it down and stuck it in the freezer on his way to get to you. "I'm sorry. I meant to text you, but then I got in the Bronco and forgot." Tears welled up in your eyes; he should be used to this by now, but he was not. "If you're horny, I'll take care of you as soon as Jake leaves."

You scoffed at him. "It's not that. I don't just want that. I wanted to talk. You're not just a gigantic, walking dick to me."

Jake cleared his throat, and you and Bradley both turned to see him standing there in his gym clothes. "I'll meet you out in the garage," he said with a smirk. "Take your time."

"I'll just be a minute," Bradley called over his shoulder, but you'd already started to open the chicken he set on the counter. "Do you want to talk now?"

"No." Great. You were giving him one word answers now.

"Would you like me to get changed and get out of your hair?"

"Yes."

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

As soon as Bradley walked through the sliding glass door and headed for the garage, you broke out in tears. What the fuck was your problem? You didn't mind if Jake was here or if he stayed for dinner. You didn't want to completely discourage Bradley from hanging up the nugget photo. You just couldn't control your emotions, and you had zero patience today. And you couldn't stop running to the bathroom to pee.

You decided to fill up some travel mugs with water and take them out to the guys to smooth things over. Tramp ran around in the grass as you walked across the yard, and you could already hear the two of them talking over their playlist as you approached the doorway.

"Is Angel's ass bigger now?" Jake asked, pointing to the dirty calendar that Bradley hung on the wall and strategically covered part of with a post-it note.

Your husband shook his head. "Stop staring at my calendar," he replied as he added weight to one side of the bar. "And stop talking about my wife's ass."

"She's in a feisty mood today. You probably didn't even need that hot sauce to get laid, old man." Based on Jake's response, you were pretty sure neither of them had seen you in the doorway yet as you stood there awkwardly.

Bradley's brow creased. "She's been a real handful, actually."

Jake hooted with laughter. "In the bedroom? Never mind, I don't want to know."

It took Bradley a few seconds to respond. "Can we talk about anything else other than my wife? Please? Literally any other topic would be great."

You turned on your heel and carried the waters back toward the house as soon as you heard Jake say, "Speaking of asses, you know who has a great one..."

They were out there for a full hour. You made what turned out to be perhaps the most incredible looking batch of Marry Me Rooster of your life while you stewed. Even your husband was already sick of you. Soon you'd gain so much pregnancy weight, your ass would probably be enormous. He'd probably have to close his eyes just to have sex with you.

You froze as you were putting the chicken onto a plate. What if he couldn't stand the sight of you with a belly at all? All stretched out and weird? Bradley had probably glorified it in his mind, but you knew it wasn't going to be all that appealing when you were nine months along in the middle of March with stretch marks galore. You were already bloated enough that Jake noticed.

You were turning and looking down at your body when they both came walking back inside, out of breath. "Smells good in here. Are these for us?" Bradley asked, pointing at the waters on the island.

"Yes," you whispered, afraid to meet his eyes. As soon as you heard his voice, you were horny again, but you didn't want to keep forcing him to have sex with you just because you couldn't help yourself.

Jake kissed you on the cheek, and when you told him he was welcome to stay for dinner, he said, "I'll take a raincheck. See you for golf on Sunday, Rooster," and headed out to his car.

"Do you think you can eat dinner?" Bradley asked you softly. When you turned away from him and nodded, he said, "You didn't have to wait for me if you were hungry. Do you want me to shower first?"

You burst into tears once again. "I don't know if I'm hungry. I don't ever know. Sometimes I just grow up. And I can't stop fucking crying! And I don't want you to be so sick of me that you'd rather talk about literally anything else with Jake, including someone else's ass."

"Whoa, whoa," he said quietly, spinning you around again. "I don't want to talk about anything else besides you, Sweetheart."

You shook your head and covered your eyes with your hands. "I tried to bring the waters outside. I heard you."

When you were pulled snug against his sweaty shirt, you felt slightly better. "Baby Girl. I was not about to get into a conversation with Jake about how I can barely keep up with you in bed. In order to keep my pride intact, I would at least want him to know you're pregnant if I'm admitting that you're wearing me out." He kissed the top of your head over and over.

"It feels like you're getting sick of me," you sobbed softly. "And you brought me hot sauce even though I can't eat it right now, and that made me so sad."

"I couldn't be less sick of you if I tried. I just needed to keep Jake off my back rather than let slip that you're pregnant, so I got the hot sauce. And it's completely my fault I forgot to tell you he was coming over, but I had a lot on my mind today."

"Like what?" you asked, inhaling how delicious he smelled even compared to the dinner you made.

"Like possible baby names and the look and feel of your pussy when I fuck you. Do you need me right now? Because I'm ready to go when you want me."

"So badly," you squeaked. "I'm sorry, Roo."

"Don't ever apologize again for wanting to have sex with me. I will be the one to apologize if I don't last as long as you need me to."

You nodded against him. "Well then I'll apologize for having a bad attitude."

"Do you need me to fuck the attitude out of you?"

"Yes, sir."

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

Imagine how excited he'll be holding that baby in his beefy arms. Just stay calm, sweet Roo. The hormones won't last forever. Up next, we're going to Annapolis. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 31

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

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@heli991113

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@little-wiseone

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@fanboyswhore9

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@desert-fern

@sylviebell

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@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

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@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

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@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

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kaiser-author-san-iii · 1 year

Text

Star Light, Star Bright | Fatui Harbingers x (Fem)Creator!Reader

A/N: holy Tsarista, I did not think that it would be this popular. Thank you so much!! It's been a couple months since I got into Genshin, but I'm glad that the Harbinger trailer dropped cause otherwise, this probably wouldn't have existed lol. I apologize for the late update. I have been quite stumped in the plot and just taking a moment to come up with one. If I didn't tag everyone, I'm sorry! DM or reply to be added to the taglist! :3

Summary: Caring for children is hard, but it's especially hard when around the Fatui. Getting isekaied was the last thing on your mind after landing in the icy tundra of Snezhnaya all while your nephew is with you. What will happen when you encounter not only a Fatui Skirmisher but a Fatui Harbinger?

Tags/warnings: female reader, God!reader, Cult AU,

Not edited or beta read, we die like Signora.

First>> Next>>

Masterlist>>

Chapter 2: The Creator's Welcome

Silence.

What could be said while the entire palace and the surrounding area waited with bated breath for their Grace to awaken?

They were fervent - they waited to leave and search for the "meaner" that has done harm to their Beloved but that would leave their Previous Grace with only the Heir for company and guard.

The Precious Heir - they have heard of them only from what was written centuries ago. He was beautiful - he was innocent and was crying for their Grace to wake up all while the Harbingers stood by with the Tsarista finally making her appearance, rushing towards the bed that their Grace rested in, bending the knee and holding their hand.

"Your Grace. Your Excellency. Oh, my Beloved Creator. What has that Meaner done to you?"

Nugget never left your side as he clutched onto your waist, but being careful with your arms as he was told by the blue-haired man with the mask. He was a doctor and clearly knew what he was talking about so the little one made sure to listen well. The Doctor man and the others gave them a room which is what his Auntie expected and though he was focused more on taking care of you, it was nice to wander around the room all while the Harbin Gingers (It was some word that he had trouble saying) always came to check on him and his auntie and even gave him coloring books and sweets and fruits. It was all so good and he made sure to save you some whenever you were going to wake up.

But he especially loved the Tsarista and Columbia (Colombina)

They were very nice. They held him when you were still asleep and he couldn't be there for the operation.

For what seemed like forever, when it was only a matter of four days, the bed shifted as Nugget was reading the latest book that the guy with the funny hat gave him. He wanted to read it to you when you woke up and his wish was soon coming true as he felt movement and looked over to see your [E/c] eyes. He gasped and immediately snuggled into the sheets and wrapped his small arms around your waist.

"Auntie! You're awake! You're awake!"

Soft wet globs of tears started to stain your shirt as you looked down at the child who held you tightly and didn't want to let go. It would have been endearing if it wasn't for the fact that you had almost died from possible blood poisoning from ignoring your wounds. Your Nephew remembered seeing a lot of gold and despite still learning, he knew for a fact blood was red.

Carefully holding him up and ruffling his hair, you kissed his forehead and wiped his tears away.

"I'm sorry I made you worry, Nugget. I promise, I'll be sure to look after myself but my main concern was you."

That response earned a pout but your nephew thought it was good enough for now. If you weren't healthy and in one piece, how are you supposed to find a husband or a wife?!

"Just don't go to sleep anymore or at least for a long time. You made everyone worry!"

"Everyone?"

At the mention, your Nephew saw the clear confusion on your face and smiled brightly, but with a glint of mischievousness as he swiftly, with his small feet could go, hopped out of bed but careful to stay clear from your arms, rushed to the door and yelled out.

"Auntie [Y/n] is awake!" he said with a bright smile that was quite contagious, but it was last minute that you saw a figure by the door, or make it two figures. They had hoods over their head but it was the masks that covered their identities - the sheer happiness was clear from their body movements and one of them rushed out to who knows where while your nephew ran back to your side and started to share all the books he's read while you were recovering.

He's always had trouble reading so it was a feat itself to see him now reading at his supposed grade level. He still had trouble with certain words but nothing to worry about.

While trying to process all that was happening around you, you heard multiple footsteps before the door flew open, and in walked in about a dozen people.

Your face heated up at seeing all the gorgeous faces quickly surround you, pulling your nephew close to your side, weary of what else could happen. But you could have sworn that there was a hint of sadness in their eyes from your pull away from them.

"Don't be scared. They helped us! They helped you! Especially the Doctor man." Your nephew grinned as he held your hand and decided to make you sit up and face the group properly and pointed at the Doctor. The Doctor that he mentioned was practically preening from the praise like a peacock showing off its feathers.

The grip on his hand lessened as you looked at all twelve people one by one. It didn't take a rocket scientist to distinguish the power that they all radiated. Though at the time, you didn't know of the power you held yourself.

The elegant lady with long white hair, icy blue eyes, and who seemed to scream 'Ice Queen', slowly walked up to your bedside with a gentle smile as her hand moved to slowly hold yours. Now, you wouldn't have minded if it was your nephew or family, but this was a stranger. A stranger with a very firm grip despite how delicate it was.

"Now. How shall we punish the meaner that's done this to you?"

Eh?

-x-

It was... a change to have people cater to your every whim despite half of them being just jokes like bringing you the finest gem. The honor of bestowing such a gem was by none other than the 9th Harbinger, Pantalone.

Your nephew was having a great time, especially when he got to get along with a majority of the Harbingers and the Fatui, who took the mission of entertaining Nugget very seriously.

Once your arms were good as new, you asked for the group of Fatui soldiers that you and your nephew first encountered. At first, they were adamant about having you and Nugget leave the palace but you needed to get back to your car and get the rest of your things.

But funnily enough, you don't remember a palace or an organization going by the Fatui in your life...

Not to mention, these people seemed to recognize you and your nephew despite you two not knowing any of them.

If you thought of it more, a headache occurred and the Tsarista was adamant in asking you to save your energy and that it didn't matter if you recognized them. That all that mattered was that you and the Heir were fine.

While bedridden, your Nephew had the privilege to waltz around like he owned the place and even got you some books to read in the meantime. You saw mentions of a Divine Creator, a God-like figure that was first in creating the world around you and beyond, the one that made the stars and skies. A Divine Creator from the Beyond gave life to a speck in the skies and named it Teyvat and thus, its first child was born.

During a certain period when the Creator was roaming freely, they announced that their sister was with child and so, the Creator named the unborn babe the Heir to Teyvat.

The book was quite the read and wanting to know more about why the people around you and Nugget called you the Divine Creator and the Heir, you took it around with you.

"Your Grace, you must bundle up. Snezhnayan winters are quite brutal. People freeze to death here, quite literally in fact." announced a Fatui sniper, the one that first saw you and Nugget as he came behind you and placed a coat, courtesy of Pantalone of course, on your shoulders and your nephew too.

Stepping out to the brutal snow, instead of the harsh snow that you were expecting, it was a light snowfall that shocked the group of Fatui that decided to travel with you.

[Nephew's Name] stepped out from behind you and cheered happily as he rushed out to the snow and started to play, making snowmen and snow angels with, of course, the Fatui looking out and being won over by the child's heart-felt giggles.

They were all trying to make sense of why the snowfall was reduced to just light snow instead of the blizzards they're used to until they recalled that their Divine Grace and the Heir were right here with them. Teyvat was the Divine Creator's first child and as the loyal child it was, it could always sense where they were. Though Snezhnaya was the domain of the Tsarista, the Cryo Archon, the Divine Creator's word was Law.

Ehe.

Everything came to a slow stop as the world first heard the giggle from the Creator and with each step that you had taken, noticeable patches of green started to appear and grow more and more. The chilled winds of winter called down as the grey skies parted to make way for the rays of the sun.

The Tsarista felt the pause of winter, looking out that the frozen lands of her region have warmed up to what it had been long ago before her ascension.

Her Grace has given warmth back to the frozen tundras of Snezhnaya to the point that the flora and fauna basked in the sunlight. "Nugget. Be careful. The snow is melting."

And like that, the snow stopped melting just enough for your nephew to enjoy making snow angels.

'Welcome to Teyvat, Divine Creator!'

TAGLIST:

@lizzhearthz, @yoshikuno , @anonclyde , @khalhaimdad, @ellenoir

@yunsblog030 , @lsleepysimpl, @potol0ver, @kitty-chan33

#genshin self aware #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #Harbingers x reader #Fatui harbingers #genshin cult au #sagau #Dottore x reader #Pantalone x reader #Scaramouche x reader #Childe x reader #Capitano x reader #Coloumbina x reader #Sandrone x reader #Pierro x reader #female reader #Signora x reader

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calaisreno · 4 months

Text

Diagnosis

974 words / Prompt: Night / CW: Sad

After, I stayed at Baker Street as long as I could, but every morning that I woke up and found him gone plunged me into darkness. Everything reminded me.

When I couldn’t sleep, I walked. I could never escape the memories, though. If I did sleep, they were there, waiting for me. 221B was full of memories, lacking him. At night, walking was better than lying in bed, sleepless, with the past.

Sometimes at night I saw him. Wherever I walked, he would eventually appear, waiting in a doorway, sitting on a bench in the park. Without speaking, he would fall in step with me.

“You must be a vampire,” I told him one night. “I only see you after dark.”

Vampires are not real, he said.

“Are you real?” I asked.

I could almost hear him smiling. You didn’t invent me.

Once I asked him if he would come home with me. He didn’t answer.

I drank during the day, walked at night, and thought about going back to work.

I slept in his bed. Even to myself, I seemed crazy. I thought about dying.

After a month of this, drinking and walking, it came to me that I had to leave. Mrs Hudson was lovely, but it was impossible for me to explain it to her, so I just left a note, promising to stop in at some point and pick up my things.

I waited until night, took my bag and slipped out the door like a thief. As I looked back, I saw a tall figure in a Belstaff coat following me.

I’d travelled back in time to a depressing bedsit. To a life where Sherlock didn’t exist, where those few months at 221B were something I’d dreamed.

The first day I returned to work at the hospital, a few people stopped me to offer polite condolences. I thanked them, saying the same empty things over and over. After a couple days, nobody reminded me that he was dead and I was alone. On my way home I bought more liquor. Vodka this time, since it didn’t leave much odour on the breath..

Like a sleepwalker, I trudged along for weeks, not sure where I was heading. Life was just eating and sleeping, taking the bus to work and coming home, watching the telly, smiling at people, saying meaningless things.

At night, I walked in a liminal space where he might still exist.

“This patient came in,” I told him one night. “Five years old, high fever, skin peeling right off his palms, bright red eyes.”

He glanced at me, intrigued. Diagnosis?

“Kawasaki disease. Never saw a case before.”

What tipped you off?

“When he stuck out his tongue and I saw how swollen and red it was, I remembered reading about that and it all just clicked together.”

Satisfying when that happens, he said, nodding.

He seemed as restless as I was, and began turning up in places I didn’t expect. There were always the all-night convenience shops, and if I had something to pick up he would follow me inside, just out of eyeshot, reminding me to get the biscuits he liked, recommending jams that I might want to try. What about these chocolate biscuits? Or maybe the ones with apricot filling.

Sometimes he was there in the A&E, making observations and acting bored when I ignored him, as I had to. “Can’t have people thinking I’m losing my mind, talking to people who aren’t there,” I muttered.

I heard him scoff. No, we can’t have that.

But usually I only saw him when I wasn’t working. When I arrived at my sad little flat after work in the early morning, he would be leaning on the door, waiting for me. Almost every day I had a story for him, a new case to describe. He asked odd questions: Did you look at his fingertips? Did his breath smell like ammonia? Did she have freckles, not the usual kind, but darker? Did her skin look waxy?

He’d always said, People see, but they do not observe. As I examined my patients, I tried to use his eyes to observe the things that might solve the case. And gradually I realised that I’d become the go-to doctor for bizarre diagnoses. The Sherlock Holmes of Barts Hospital.

Impressive, Dr. Watson, he said. You’ve become quite the detective.

“You taught me,” I said. “It was from you that I learned to see everything differently. As you always say, the world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance observes.”

He smiled but said nothing. Though he loved receiving compliments, he was stingy in his praise of others. Once he’d praised something, there was no need to say it again just so my ego could bask in it.

At other times, he was critical. You’re rotting your brain, he said one afternoon when I got out of bed and looked at my bloodshot eyes. You have talent — why are you doing this to yourself?

I didn’t point out that he had often rotted his brain with worse things. He had more or better brain cells, I suppose, and often needed to slow his mind down just to keep it from crashing out of exhaustion.

But he was always more solicitous of my health than of his own. He scolded me now. You’re not taking care of yourself.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I’m really fucked up and I don’t know what to do about it. I miss you so much.”

I felt, rather than heard his chuckle. Try to remember all the things that used to annoy you. Try to remember what a prat I was.

“You weren’t,” I told him. “You were wonderful. I love you.”

The room was silent. When I looked up, he was gone.

#mayprompts2024

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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years

Note

Hi there! Could we see a touch starved!reader x The Doctor? Whichever Doctor you would want, but I admit I am biased to 11 hehe.

I really enjoyed your fic ‘Keep blessing me’, as someone who is plus size, I rarely see myself represented in media positively.

I can imagine reader being the type of person who is overlooked often, never been desired romantically and feels like she has been forgotten by the universe. She yearns to be held and feel safe but she also feels unworthy. She definitely is majorly pining for The Doctor but doesn’t allow herself to dwell much on it. Maybe he feels the same way?

[TW: negative self-talk, referenced/implied depression]

"Stone walls" - 11th Doctor x touch starved!Reader

Doctor Who-inspired playlist

Should you ask anyone who has taken part in some kind of competition at least once in their life, they will always say the same thing: the fourth place is the worst. Right under the podium, a hair's breadth away from being someone and yet they are nothing more than a mockery, the line separating memory and oblivion. Taking into account the series of unfortunate events you call your life, you were born in fourth place.

It was never anything explicit and perhaps that was the worst part. Had there been a groundbreaking revelation, a true calamity of heartache, you would have accepted it but it was that silence that sucked the life out of you. It wasn't that someone told you they hated you, it was that you were never chosen, drifting away on the waves of silence into the ocean of oblivion. Although you were born into this world, it never felt like you truly were part of it. Perhaps, all of existence was happening next to you or existence, to put it simply, refused to make you part of itself.

And then there was him - the Doctor, always scoring first place, always showered in gold medals and trophies because, truthfully, why wouldn't he? There was no way of telling how many catastrophes he had prevented, how many lives he had already saved. By his tireless service to the entire universe, it seemed as though he was born for this, to always be a winner. And the stories he told! How he had befriended so many species, how many hearts were offered to him that he had turned down. It was quite bittersweet, that you were so different and yet you were alive in the same universe.

Truthfully, you still didn't quite understand what ungodly whim made you his "partner in crime". The longer you were around him, the more you grow to understand just how not alike you were as if his brilliancy made you painfully aware of your mediocrity. Your place wasn't with him, quite obviously - he deserved someone better; someone you could never become. Maybe it would be better to leave soon, on your own, than have him grow impatient and simply throw you out. It wasn't the way you wanted to remember him, angry and annoyed, so you thought it best to relieve both of you of your underwhelming existence as soon as possible.

"You don't have to do this alone."

His voice caught you off guard. Has he been here this whole time? How long had he been staring at you, waiting for you to finally do something?

You turned around to look at him. The Doctor was leaning against the console, his arms crossed on his chest. By all accounts, it seemed that he had been standing there for quite a while, pondering whether he should speak up.

"I'm not sure what you mean," you answered with a slight shake of your head.

For a moment, he didn't say anything. His bright, green eyes stared into you as if he was waiting for something but you couldn't be sure what for exactly. After a while of silence, he left his spot to make his way towards you. His rhythmic footsteps echoed throughout the otherwise empty TARDIS.

"I'm not sure either," he spoke in a mild tone, "but I can tell something turned you sour. Whatever it is, you don't have to do this alone."

The Doctor gently wrapped his lanky arms around you, while you didn't quite know what to do. The moment he tightened his grip around you, something heavy inside your viscera pulled you towards the ground. You grabbed his tweed jacket with as much force as you could possibly muster. It felt as if the moment you let go of the coarse material, your whole body would simply fall apart. That gaping hole in your chest you tried your best to ignore suddenly felt deeper like a beast whose insatiable appetite only grows as it devours. This hunger or whatever it really was felt absolutely awful, so painful it coursed through your veins and filled your entire body with suffering. The Doctor gently shifted his body and your hands only tightened their grip on him as if there was no greater horror in this universe than him letting go of you.

"Just hold me," you whispered. "I'm lonely."

And he did just that.

Sometimes you thought about that one time you had asked the Doctor whether he slept. Truthfully, you never did see him sleep and somehow he was always full of energy. Did Time Lords not need rest? They were, after all, a very exceptional sort of aliens. In response, he only looked at you with a confused expression. "Why would I?" he asked, "It's eight more hours without you." You never did believe them but then, when the fourth place and the first place were equals for a moment, you thought that perhaps he did, in fact, mean them.

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22ayla19 · 10 months

Text

Teasing Kartein is Kayden's favorite activity, which you decided to kindly borrow. After that, Kartein regretted introducing you to Kayden.

You are an extraordinary person in yourself with an unruly character, which annoyed Kartein very much, and your jokes made him even more angry, but after a while he got so used to them that when you were calm, it seemed to Kartein that this was either the calm before the storm, or you had something it happened on the psychological front.

But let's go back to the present time, where you woke up in the morning and are trying to figure out what kind of situation you got into. To be more precise, to lie on the bare floor of the blanket, and next to the same naked Kartain slept.

“It seems like I didn’t drink yesterday, but I don’t know how I ended up in such a situation...”

[Last night]

Since you are Kartein's personal assistant, it is clear that you live in his residence. Perhaps it was confusing at first, but over time I got used to it.

The clock showed 09:00 pm. You were already going to sleep after taking a shower. You wrapped myself in a towel and was about to dry my hair when I heard a voice behind me.

- You would get dressed, at least for the sake of decency. There's no need to walk around here naked.

- You're a doctor, and you know all the charms of female anatomy, why do you react so much to a naked body?

- Maybe my specialty is not female anatomy after all?

- Or are you just shy?~

Pretending that you were supposedly taking off your towel, you could see how Kartein blushed very much from this and twitched. The next thing that was heard in the room was your loud laughter.

- Ah-ah-ah! Blushed like a virgin during puberty! - and again loud laughter throughout the room.

This time Kartein blushed with anger, but certainly not from embarrassment.

[Present]

Yeah, calling him a virgin during puberty was not the best idea, because he then proved the opposite to you all night. And the main thing in this whole situation is that you don't actually have any feelings for each other, at least that's what you thought.

- Good morning, sleeping beauty ~

While you remembered yesterday's events, Kartein managed to wake up and laugh about the whole situation.

- Well, you have a kind one, but I don't. My whole body is aching after last night ...

- And there was nothing to call me a virgin yesterday, maybe then I would have been more gentle ~

- It's hard to believe ...

An awkward silence has fallen over you. It seemed like both wanted to say something, but no one knew how to start this conversation. After all, you were braver than him and started a conversation.

- And what about our partnership relations?.. I don't think I will be able to pretend that this did not happen.

Kartein was silent for a couple of minutes until he answered the question:

- Believe it or not, but I've been sympathetic to you for a long time. Of course, you annoyed me at times and I even had time to regret introducing you to Kayden because of the frequent jokes, but you are the only one who understands me from half a word, knows how to find an approach when I'm not in the mood. You never needed my healing abilities and I am very comfortable with you, but over time I realized that I no longer sympathize with you, but really love...

- ...

- You don't have to say anything, I still didn't expect you to reciprocate.

Kartein got out of bed and was about to leave when you left him.

- Wait!

- What is it?

- I reciprocate your feelings. Maybe I don't fully love yet, but that doesn't mean that you can't give a chance. Maybe it will still work out if we try?

Kartein smiled at your words and kissed you on the forehead in response.

- Well, we have plenty of time to establish relations and learn more about ourselves.

#eleceed x reader #kayden break #kartein x reader #kartein #eleceed

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liptonsbabe · 1 year

Text

Blood all along

Eugene Roe x fem! reader

Inktober "Snow"

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, war, the usual in this fandom(?.

a/n: well hello! This is a little something that I did for the inktober! I'm not an artist but I thought it would be cute to write a few fics for our favorite boys on this month! Hope you like it!

Btw English is not my frst language so tell me if something's wrong

ofc this is based on the hbo series and the actors who portray the characters, no disrespect for the real heroes!

You hissed in pain as you disinfected the wound on your leg. You were lucky, the bullet had only grazed your skin and the only thing you had to deal with was trying to stop the bleeding that was staining the snow beneath you red.

Bastogne was being a complete nightmare, the air support that arrived a few days ago was not enough and the battalion's medical team was having serious problems helping all the wounded men.

Having to digging in right along the line and repel the German attacks was the worst moment of the war so far and having lost so many soldiers in such a short time was a very strong blow for everyone.

Malarkey, Muck, Penkala and you were inseparable since Toccoa and losing two of your best friends in the same night was so painful for you, especially cause you trained so hard to become a doctor and still couldn't do anything for them. Don talked to you right after what happened, making sure you were okay, but the truth was that he was just or worse affected than you were, and even if Donald Malarkey always knew what to say to lift others' spirits, at that moment the words were stuck on his lips. The only thing he could do was stay by your side, silent and holding your hand tightly.

Everyone in the company noticed your change in attitude after Muck and Penkala's death. Somehow you turned lonely, quiet, and your hands shook when you were near the soldiers' wounds, something that didn't go unnoticed by Eugene Roe, who asked you to step away from the line for a while and try to forget everything that had happened in the last few days.

But forgetting was impossible. Even if your friends hadn't died, you could never forget the warm, viscous feeling of blood on your hands, the smell of gunpowder filling the air or the screams of pain you heard every day, at every second. Now, every time you closed your eyes, the images of the wounded soldiers appeared among a dark cloud that slowly grew bigger and bigger, trying to choke you.

You hissed again, the cold making the wound on your exposed leg sting terribly. You took some alcohol from your backpack and soaked the gauze with it to disinfect the bullet graze. You smiled a little, remembering how you had gotten hurt.

If you had found the third battalion sooner, Babe wouldn't have fallen into that Kraut's foxhole and you wouldn't have to run through the woods with gunfire hot on your heels. It was kind of fun tho, but your leg was swollen like hell.

You heard footsteps approaching your position and without thinking twice you grabbed the knife that you always carried on your belt. You waited for the shadow to become clearer in the snow to attack, but then you recognized the silhouette and relaxed your body.

Eugene walked towards you slowly. His nose was red from the cold and his hands were hidden in the pockets of his uniform. You put the knife aside and continued cleaning the blood. Eugene sat in front of you, noticing the red snow under your feet.

“(Y/N), you're hurt.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“Wait, I'm gonna help you,” he said and rushed to examine the swelling on your leg. You pushed him away “You should've come to me sooner.”

"It wasn't necessary. Don't worry, the bullet didn't hit me. At least not completely. Plus, I'm a doctor too, remember? I can take care of this by myself.”

"Doesn't matter. I wish you'd let me check you properly. Edward told me what happened.”

"Who?" You frowned, not understanding who he was referring to. Then you remembered that Eugene never called anyone by his nickname “Uh, Babe.”

“Yeah.”

“I asked him not to do it, I didn't want you to worry.”

“Well, no matter what happens, I will always worry about you” then he removed your hands from the wound and took the gauze carefully. Roe cleaned your wound and took the time to check that it was indeed a simple bullet graze. He put some ointment on it and blew on your swollen leg for a couple of seconds. You sighed cause the air from his mouth felt like a kiss on your skin and relieved the burning momentarily. You admired the firmness of his hands and the way the blood no longer scared him. He pulled a bandage out of his jacket and started wrapping it around your leg.

“Eugene, how can you stand it?”

He looked up for a second while continuing to manipulate the bandage. “What d'you mean?”

"I mean this. Still standing after everything that has happened."

Eugene stopped. His fingers rested on your bandaged leg and he thought hard for several seconds. He looked at you and could see how broken and tired you were.

"I pray. Sometimes"

“There must be something else” You sniffled, wanting to stop the tears. Eugene sighed, “Something that makes you feel like it's worth staying here.”

“I think there is always something good at the end of the road. I think that… beyond this forest, beyond this frozen hell… there's something that gives purpose to what we are doing. And I hold on to the thought that everything I love will be there when I come back” he said and caressed your cheek “And maybe, with a little luck, I can convince you to come home with me” You laughed through your tears and Eugene squeezed your hand gently. “I'm sorry about Muck and Penkala. I know you feel guilty for not being able to help them, but I'm convinced that they believed firmly in you, and that if it had been different, you'd be there, trying 'til the very end.

Your tears were uncontrollable and Eugene hugged you tightly, he let your pain come out of your chest and let your tears be carried away by the heavy snow that fell from the sky. Roe stroked your hair and kissed the top of your head.

“Everything's gonna be okay and i promise you that I'm gonna take you home,” he whispered in your ear. “I promise, (Y/N), I do promise.”

#dick winters #band of brothers #eugene roe #hbo war #lewis nixon #bandofbrothersedit #carwood lipton #bill guarnere #bob #easy company

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horseshoegirl · 1 year

Text

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 13 - Sons & Daughters

📜This one is going to hurt... 😬 Depending on how you think... I challenged myself with this one as it's almost all from Sadie's POV.

Also, do you guys listen to the songs at all? Just curious 😂

❗+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, original child, name-calling and implying some derogatory things, mentions of concussions, Angst, Protective Dagger Squad, mostly from Sadie's POV.

#6.5k words

Part 12 | Masterlist | Part 14

The first thing Sadie thought when she woke up in the morning was that she had never had a headache like this one.

She had nothing to compare it to. This wasn't a soccer ball to the face or a cold with a bad stuffed-up nose. This type was the one that made your eyes water in pain, the kind where your headband was just too tight, but there was no headband for her to remove. The type to create intrusive thoughts about hitting your head off a wall to see if that would fix it.

On top of that, she was exhausted from her Uncle Jake waking her up throughout the night, ensuring she could still wake up. And each time he did, she had trouble falling back asleep.

When you came to wake her up in the morning, a smile on your face, she couldn't stop her tears from escaping due to the pain. She could handle a lot, but headaches were her weakness. And your reaction only made it worse, Sadie not wanting to add more to your plate, as a frown graced your face.

Whether the question of if she was feeling okay, physically or emotionally, was going to cross your lips, Sadie didn't want to know.

She groggily sat up, trying to bury her face into your neck, clinging to you tightly and whimpering, "It's my head."

Something about just holding on to you soothed the pain. Sadie could remember the doctor telling her before leaving the hospital that she would feel worse on the second day. She thought he had been stupid to say that; nothing could have been worse than what her entire family just went through.

Then she understood what he meant. However, he should have paid better attention to his choice of words.

Sadie tried to hide her whines as you stood, carrying her out of her bed and into the bathroom, where you single handily searched for the bottle of pain meds as she clung to you.

Uncle Jake was working a wooden spoon through a bowl of batter in the kitchen when he saw Sadie in your arms. He frowned and immediately dropped the spoon, walking over to the pair of you and placing a hand resting on Sadie's back.

"It's her head," you spoke quietly, kissing her forehead. Jake took the bottle of meds from your hand without saying anything else, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, saying quietly, "Go sit. I'll get everything ready."

Sadie didn't pay any attention to what was happening after you sat down with her in your lap. Uncle Jake brought over two pills and a glass of orange juice at some point, and you coaxed her into the chair next to you to take them.

But she was impatient, waiting for those nasty things to work, pressing her head into her arms as if the small amount of darkness would help. Then Uncle Jake placed a packet of ice on her neck, and she wanted to cry from the relief.

The awful bandage came off after she started to feel slightly better, you sitting behind her at the kitchen table as you worked the thing loose. Uncle Jake was at the stove, flipping pancakes, laughing at the faces Sadie was making as you tugged one way or pulled the other.

After living off hospital food almost all day yesterday, the pancakes did wonders for her stomach. But she was more pleased to see Uncle Jake smiling and laughing with you at the kitchen table as everyone ate. How he made her laugh and feel happy, despite everything that happened.

Uncle Jake just fit in.

And that was the thing with you and Uncle Jake. Neither of you babied her. Sadie knew she could always come to you with anything; she just had to say the word. And it only took shared looks with Uncle Jake to know he was an option as well, constantly checking in with a knowing smile and Sadie nodding to let him know she was doing okay.

But she didn't want to think about everything just yet.

After breakfast, however, was a constant cycle of boredom. Sadie didn't know how to cope. You told her she couldn't look at a screen, and while she understood, she was bored. This was different from when it was the flu or a cold, and she got to stay home from school. She could huddle on the couch, play her Switch, or watch a movie during those times. Despite loving to read, she could only stare at the pages for so long before the words ran into each other.

Or her head started to pound again.

Uncle Jake tried to help, sitting with her outside while you curled up in one of the chairs, reading a book in between answering phone calls. Sadie hadn't seen you with a book in a long time, that book in particular, and she wondered what convinced you to pick it back up again. But she liked the fact you did, watching you turn every page with eager intent, lost in the world described in the pages.

Until she fell asleep against her Uncle Jake, who was content to let her be until two hours had passed and she needed to be woken up again.

She honestly just wanted him to let her sleep.

Then the Daggers had called, more Auntie Nat than any of them, to ask if they could bring dinner over. When they arrived, she hugged everyone slightly longer than usual, not that they seemed to mind. Even if she had to put up with the same questions from all of them, Sadie honestly just wanted her family close by.

But there was something off about her Uncle Roo.

He barely said a word to her when he walked through the front door. And his hug wasn't as warm or nearly as tight. And after dinner, with everyone in the backyard, she was beginning to worry. She could tell he was mad as she feigned sleep, lying up against Uncle Jake on the bench to avoid answering another, "Are you doing okay?"

He hadn't stopped staring at her once. Or at you, for that matter. His eyes tracked every movement you made in the backyard, from refilling a water jug to nibbling on a piece of food. Or every conversation.

Every time you to came over and spoke with Uncle Jake.

It was weird, she thought.

And she wanted to find out why.

Despite her headache going away, being around everyone made her exhausted. And she suddenly felt the urge to be alone. She excused herself from the backyard, asking if she could lie in her room for a minute, everyone frowning. But you had let her go without complaint.

You always knew what she needed, and you never forced her to do something that made her uncomfortable.

Rooster had been there for her when she was struggling with the fact she wouldn't see her mom anymore. Maybe she was trying to let him approach her by going inside. She half expected him to follow her inside, or there might have been a moment when she would have pulled him aside and asked if she could talk to him about what had happened. This shouldn't be any different than those times.

But he didn't follow her inside, and he really hadn't said a word to her all evening, unlike Auntie Nat or Uncle Bob, who had asked if she needed to vent.

She couldn't figure out what she did wrong.

It was making her upset.

Sadie lifted her from her pillow head to a knock at her bedroom door.

"Come in," she called out softly. Her door opened, revealing you on the other side, a sad smile on your face.

"Hey," your voice was soft. "I just came to check on you. Everyone was worried."

Sadie put her head back on her pillow, glancing out her window. "I'm okay. Just tired. It's just a lot."

"Should we have not had everyone over? You're allowed to say no. No one would blame you."

She closed her eyes, moving her head back and forth against her pillow. "No, I wanted everyone here. It was just more than I thought it would be."

You stepped forward to sit beside her on the bed, hand reaching out to stroke at her leg top her covers. "You've been through more than anyone your age, Bug."

Sadie turned to look at you, instantly drawn to your eye. Your bruise had gotten darker and lighter, yellow patches adding themselves to the stains of the blue since she came home. Its presence on your face still haunted her, making her return to her belief that you or Uncle Jake wouldn't have gotten hurt if she had stayed in the bathroom. But then she'd remember what Uncle Jake had said, and she'd stop herself.

She knew even her mom would have come up with the right thing to say, which sounded exactly the same as everyone else had been telling her.

People were just sometimes bad.

"Am I supposed to buy the "It will make me stronger" speech people give me?" she wondered aloud. You squeezed her leg through her puffy green comforter, saying, "Not if you don't want it to."

Adjusting herself on her bed, she replied, "So if I wanted to be upset about it?"

You slid closer to her, and Sadie reached for your hand, threading her fingers through yours. You touched her cheek and answered, "It's okay to cry about what happened Bug. To be upset. Why do you think you can't be upset?"

"Because you and Uncle Jake got hurt. Because I don't want anyone else to worry about me. Because it will cause more problems, and I don't want you to be sad."

You gasped, crying, "Sadie, you're never a problem! Please don't ever think that! I'm only sad because I can't fix everything for you. I would do anything to make sure you're happy."

Sadie cried the second you said those words, releasing the pent-up emotions weighing her down since she woke up in that hospital bed.

Maybe she didn't need to talk to her Uncle Roo about these things.

You had been right here all along.

"Thank you for understanding, Aunt Liz," she sniffed, wiping her eyes. "And being there for me. For taking me in."

Laying beside her on her bed, you wrapped your arm around her side. "As if you were going to end up anywhere else than with me. That's nothing you have to thank me for, Bug."

She played to the edges of her comforter, the question burning on her lips. "Is he my birth-farther? The bad man."

Her mom had always said she had a father out there. One that left before she was born. She hadn't started putting everything together, the photos her mom had shown her, the warnings to stay away from that man, until after everything had happened and she had time to think about it when she was stuck in that hospital bed.

Sadie knew you would tell her the truth. You always did, even when she didn't want to hear it. You swallowed hard before nodding sadly. "Yeah, he is."

Sadie let go of the comforter, pushing it off her. "What does that mean for me? For us? I just... don't want anything to do with him."

"Well, hopefully, when the police catch him, he will go to jail. So we will never see him again. Your mom ensured that would never happen. He's not going anywhere near you."

"Really?"

You nodded. "Everyone outside would buzz the CPS building if that was even the slightest possibility too."

She giggled at that.

"So whether you like it or not, you're stuck with me. And those idiots outside."

Sadie huffed a small laugh, remarking, "Till I run off with a boy, right?"

You gasped, sitting up and remarking, "Sadie Beck, don't tell me you have a crush!"

Well, shoot, she really shouldn't have gone with that reply. You could always tell when she was hiding something.

Well, almost always.

"I'm almost eleven, Aunt Liz. Do I really need to be thinking about a boy right now?" she attempted to throw you off her trail, rolling her eyes. But you didn't relent, a knowing grin on your face.

"Not if it's Will your thinking about," you teased. Sadie squealed, rolling herself into her pillow.

Will had called her today asking if she was okay. She liked him more than she cared to admit. She was still too young even to consider having a boyfriend. But she liked the way he cared about her. It reminded her of how Uncle Jake cared about you. Then she realized, turning her head with a shout, "You and Uncle Jake's date got ruined!"

You chuckled softly. "It's nothing that can't be replanned. Besides, I think he likes spending time with the both of us anyway."

Sadie giggled, thinking back to this morning. "Don't let him flip the pancake pan again. And he needs to stop singing in the shower. I think it's making my head worse."

Something warm sparked in Sadie's chest at watching you finally laugh wholeheartedly after what seemed like the longest 24 hours of her life.

She liked seeing you laugh. You only ever did once Uncle Jake came around since her mom had left the two of you.

"Is it okay that Uncle Jake is staying here?" you asked her after a minute.

Sadie sat up in her bed, looking at you questionably. Uncle Jake had left just after lunch for a half hour, returning with a bag in hand. She hadn't questioned it. It made sense that he would stay with you two while the bad man was still out there.

She also didn't trust the police officer outside across the street in his car either. She had often peered out the front window to see him asleep in his front seat.

She nodded. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know, with everything that has happened? The fact he and I.."

She didn't have to think twice about her answer. "I feel safe with him in the house."

You smiled. "So do I, Bug."

You were about to say something else when a loud shout echoed down the hallway, an f-bomb, as you had labelled on the swear jar in the kitchen. Sadie's eyes shot to her open door, and she quickly remarked, "Somebody needs to put money in the swear jar."

But this wasn't a slip of the tongue. More shouts and angry words were coming from different people. Sadie looked at you, wondering what to do. But you had gone stiff, your face emotionless as the both of you took in the fight.

You seemed to snap out of it when you heard Auntie Nat's voice shout Uncle Roo's name, and you finally looked back at her with worrisome eyes.

Sadie watched as you grabbed her oversized black headphones with puffy sides from her bedside table and quickly turned them on. You were biting your bottom lip as you placed them on her head, looking down at your phone and hitting play on a playlist. You squeezed her shoulder, mouthing 'stay' to her before you quickly exited her room, shutting the door behind you.

Sadie couldn't hear anything beyond the music playing in her ears. She could tell without looking at your phone screen that it was the playlist you had made for Saturday Nights.

She caught snippets of shouts and yells for a couple of songs when the music shuffled. She could hear you, Uncle Jake, Uncle Nat, and Uncle Roo, who was the loudest. At one point, she thought she even heard Uncle Bob raise his voice. That one shocked her the most - she had never heard him speak that loudly.

But after a while, she couldn't hear your voice in the mix while another song changed. Sadie reached up and pulled the headphones from her head, leaving them on her bed as she climbed off and to her door.

She didn't know why everyone was fighting but needed to know. If her suspicions had been right about Uncle Roo being mad about something, she needed to know why and if she could fix it.

She opened it carefully, not that anyone would have heard her with how loud it was and shut it closed behind her. The hallway was dark, save for a light coming from your bedroom. Tip-toeing across the hall, she pressed herself to the wall as she peered over the corner, spying on everyone standing at the entrance to the kitchen.

You weren't in the room with them anymore. And Sadie confirmed she had indeed been right about Roo being mad. Her first thought was that her comparison of how red as a Rooster he could get wasn't accurate. She needed something redder, maybe a lump of coal from the fire pit or the stuff inside the glass thermometer you kept in the backyard.

But then she started to question why he was mad and yelling. And, most importantly, why was everyone standing behind Uncle Jake and not Uncle Roo when she knew they didn't like him?

---

You didn't want to admit it as you left Sadie's room. But nothing would have gotten Rooster to react that badly had he not found out about you and Jake.

Rounding the corner of the hall, Nat stood between Rooster and Jake, her hand on Bradley's chest. She was pushing him away from Jake, who had his arms crossed and jaw clenched, staring him down.

The rest of the Daggers were spread out amongst your kitchen, caught between trying to figure out what the hell happened and wondering what side they would go to bat for.

"Bradley, what the hell was that?! Sadie is in her room!"

You shouldn't have said anything. Bradley's red-hot temper, face contorted in outrage, suddenly pinned you down. Pointing his finger at you, he stepped forward in your direction. Nat countering his movement, making sure to stand between you and him at all times.

"You liar!" he seethed.

You took a step back, slightly frightened.

"How long have you been sleeping with him? Since before we were deployed or after?!"

"I'm not sleeping with him!" you replied, your voice slightly brittle. Bradley scoffed, placing his hands on his hips. "Well, something is a little fucking fishy considering his bag is next to your bed in your room!"

You narrowed your eyes at him, your fist clenched. "You went into my room?!"

"Didn't need to when the door was wide open."

Some part of you wished you could have sat Bradley down and told him without fear of a reaction like this. But Bradley was unpredictable at best. And from what you knew of his relationship with Mav, he could hold a nasty grudge.

It wasn't as if you didn't feel bad about it. You didn't lie to him, but you didn't tell him the truth when you should have.

"You gave into him!" He shouted at you, looking at Jake and then back to you. "We told you! We warned you, Elizabeth! And you didn't listen to us."

Nat was the one to respond for you, recalling, "She made no such promise, Bradshaw. She told you to lay off and let her handle it."

But he didn't listen to her, too caught up with watching how you reacted to his words to even entertain any idea that didn't fit into what he believed to be fact.

"How quickly did he get between your legs?" he remarked heatedly.

"Rooster!"

Out of all the people you expected to shout, Bob certainly wasn't one of them. His southern drawl, normally soothing to the ear, was harsher than normal. He moved from his perch up against the wall next to your back door, coming to stand in line with Nat and Jake, "That was outta line!"

A part of you acknowledged he probably found out about your relationship with Jake from Nat. But he had been silent this whole time. He had never said a word about what he knew or thought.

"The number of times she's taken care of your ass, and this is how you treat her? You've got no business telling her what she can do."

"It's fucking Hangman, Bob! Are you all even thinking about what this will do to Sadie? When he leaves her out high and dry?" Bradley exclaimed. "She's going to wake up one day, and he's not going to be there, and she's going to be devastated. And for what?!"

Jake narrowed his eyes at him, "Not that it's any of your goddamn business, but she made me swear to put Sadie first."

Suddenly, everything clicked for Bradley, the pieces fitting together neatly.

"Jake wasn't randomly at the Hard Deck on Friday," he said. "He was seeing you."

You refused to look him in the eye, and Bradley's face twisted in hurt.

"So, this is it, huh? You've been seeing each other behind our backs this whole time? And decided to keep it from us."

You gripped your forearm tightly. Should you own up and let him know almost everyone knew but him? Could you explain or even convince him that everyone found out by themselves?

But the choice had been made for you when Rooster saw something in Nat's eyes that indicated not only had she known about it, she was and had been okay with it.

"You knew?!" Rooster yelled at her. Nat stood her ground, fierceness in her eyes as she remarked, "It wasn't my story to tell."

"Oh, this is just fucking rich. How many of you knew?"

Bob and Coyote turned away from Bradley, refusing to say anything that might give away what they knew. And while Fanboy and Payback might have only found out now, even knowing something had been going on between the two of you or assuming something would, given that Jake followed you into the kitchen that first Saturday night, they still hung their heads low like everyone else.

"How could you all?!" Bradley cried out, eyes tracking around the room. "You traitors!"

"Okay, you know what? I'm done!" you seethed, stepping around Nat and copying Bradley's stance. Jake reached for you, but you dodged his hand. Poking Bradley in the chest with your finger, you shouted, "What the fuck is your problem, Bradley?"

"He's my problem!"

"Jake is not the goddamn issue, and you fucking know it!" You yelled back at him. It was like a light switch had been flipped somewhere inside you, and all this anger suddenly rushed to the surface.

"Time and time again, you claim it's Sadie you are concerned about. But you change the conversation every time I press just a little bit further. Or you blame Jake, but something tells me that's your scapegoat for everything!"

You pushed at his chest, making him take two steps back. "And for what? Because he said something about your dad?"

Bradley's jaw twitched, and you knew you had struck a nerve.

"Oh, so it is that."

"Stay out of it, Liz," he murmured. But you didn't listen. You had enough, and you would find out the real reason here and now.

"You dragged Sadie and me right into it," you shot back. "So I'm going to drag it out for you. What is it?!"

Stalking forward, you glared Bradley down, continuing to step backwards as you dealt each verbal blow.

"Is it some longstanding grudge because Jake hurt your feelings?" you challenged. "Or Is it Jake replacing you in Sadie's life? Do you think that lowly of her to think she plays favourites? She's adored you since she met you!"

And then suddenly, you remembered what Sadie had said to Bradley the second she saw him on your sister's front porch. "Or does it have something to do with your mom?"

Bradley's temper broke loose.

"I watched her mourn my father every day, picking her off the floor because he wasn't there! I watched her cry out for him daily, barely functioning beyond her routine. Get up, make breakfast and shuffle me into the bus and off to school. She couldn't cope with his loss and his absence in her life. She loved him so much, and it wasn't enough to keep him here with her! No matter what I did, it was never enough! And when Jake does the same to you, I won't have Sadie live her childhood doing the same for you!

With everything Bradley admitted, you should have come up with a more compassionate response. But you were too hurt by the comparison to manage anything other than, "Grow the fuck up."

You had said it so scathingly and firmly that everyone pivoted and faced you. No one had ever heard you be that ruthless.

"I'm not your mom. And Sadie isn't your child where you can make choices for her. I've long wrestled with the idea that I'll never be able to protect her from everything in life but Jake?! He's not one of those things."

Tears welled in your eyes as you continued. "As for my grief, I have never placed anything on her. I've hidden that part of myself away day in and day out because who would I be if I wasn't strong around her? I've sacrificed my mental sanity day in and day out so she can have some semblance of peace. To know that there are people who care about her."

But rather than continuing to be angry at Bradley for his reaction, you felt pity for what he went through.

"I'm so sorry if you had the entire weight of the entire world on your shoulders growing up, Bradley, but Sadie isn't going to crumble because I can't be strong around her."

Bradley opened his mouth as if to respond, but no words came out. It was clear to you he was grappling with his own emotions, whether something had caused him to be this way or you had brought everything rushing to the surface.

You held his gaze, unwavering in your conviction. "I'm not asking you to agree with my choices," you finally said, your voice softening. "But I am asking you to respect them."

But you knew he wouldn't. In defending Jake, and by poking and prodding at him, you had backed Bradley into a corner.

And like a wounded animal, he went for the insult.

"I didn't know you wanted to add your name to the tally in Hangman's whorehouse."

You felt cold, ice shooting up your veins and freezing over your skin.

Your hand was ready, fingers steadying and stretching out as you prepared to whip it forward. But rather than a slap, Nat beat you to it, fist flying out of nowhere and landing hard into Rooster's solar plexus. He lurched over in a groan, and she stepped back, nostrils flaring.

"You say that again about them, I dare you. You've done enough damage."

"I'm not the one who ruined the team," he said hoarsely, looking at you pointedly.

You were done.

You turned on your heel, making a run for it back down your hall, a slam of a door letting everyone know you had no plans to return any time soon.

___

Jake watched you leave, head down and hands coming up to wipe at your face as you ran down your dark hallway. Everyone stared a Bradley in a mix of shock and anger. Maybe even in disbelief. For Bradley to say such a thing, to you of all people, was inexcusable.

"That was your last straw, Bradshaw. I couldn't care less what you say about me, but her? You need to leave," Jake said, getting up in his face.

Coyote stepped up from behind Bradley, knocking his shoulder hard as he passed him. Bradley stumbled forward, eyes watching as Javy nodded once to Jake before following you down the hall.

"You have no idea the double standard you place on, Liz," Jake laughed to himself. "Taking about grief and telling her she needs to grieve when shaming her for wanting to do that. Sadie can grieve, but Liz can't? "

"I'm not the asshole who's going to fuck it up for them," Bradley remarked. "Liz wouldn't have to if you just chose to stay away from them like you should have."

But Jake smirked at him. "At least I have the decency to own up to when I've been one."

"You know," Bradley started. "I'm just waiting for the day when you mess up so badly, and she looks for someone to support her. Cause I know her better than you could ever think. The second you do, you'll never get her back. Or Sadie."

Bob spun away from the group at Bradley's words, becoming slightly more worried Sadie would wake up and venture into this mess. He had half a mind to leave and sit with her, until out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of blonde hair peaking out from the end of the hall.

Sadie peered at her Uncle Bob from her hiding spot, concerned. Bob shot her a worried look, motioning with his eyes for her to go back to her room. But Sadie shook her head.

She had every right to be here if her name was being thrown around.

"Nothing about what you just said or did had anything to do with Sadie," Jake challenged Bradley, who assertively replied, "She's part of it."

"And at any point during your little outburst, did you even once think about her, currently hiding out in her bedroom, hearing every shout or word you've said?"

Sadie knew the answer to this one. Even if she wasn't in the hallway, and you didn't put her headphones on, Uncle Roo clearly didn't think about what he was saying before he said it.

Having already been standing with Jake, Nat crossed her arms and glared pointedly at Bradley. "You've hurt Liz. The one person who would have taken a bat for you. She didn't deserve everything you just threw at her."

Sadie's eyes shot to Bradley, horrified and disappointed at her Aunt Nat's words. He had hurt you.

That was unforgivable.

Sadie finally decided to pull herself away from the wall, step forward and reach for her Uncle Bob, who was at the back of the pack. She gripped the fabric of his plant leg, half hiding from everyone's view.

Bob looked down, shocked, as she pressed her forehead into the back of his knee. He tried to slowly step backwards, hoping to lead Sadie back to her room. But she wasn't having it, wrapping her arm tightly around his leg, preventing him from moving any further.

She was staying.

"You have a right to your opinion, but if you cannot accept that I'm with her for the right reasons, that Sadie isn't on our minds every damn second, then I will kindly ask you to leave."

Bradley scoffed at Jake, laughing, "Don't think it's up to you to uninvite me."

"But I can."

Everyone turned, shocked to hear, and finally discover Sadie hiding behind Bob's leg. Bradley seemed to sober at her words, eyes relaxing, then widening as he saw her cowering from him.

"Bug..." he said lowly, his hand stretching out. She took a step back, eyeing his hand cautiously.

"You hurt my Aunt," she said firmly, her disappointment in him evident. "You're not welcome here anymore."

Sadie could see the sudden guilt on his face, but she didn't care. Right now, she didn't like him. And he wasn't going to get away with what he just did.

"You heard her," Jake stated, crossing his arms and puffing out his chest.

But Bradley paid him no mind and tried to reason with Sadie as he said, "Bug, it's not what you think."

"I have eyes," she snarked, then decided to add for good measure, "And ears."

Bradley's eyes travelled from Sadie's to Nat's, who now stood behind her. Then Fanboy and Payback stepped forward, crossing their arms over their chest as they glared at Bradley, the man looking more confused with each passing second.

Sadie was mad. Despite not knowing what was exactly said, the fact he would even do something that would purposely hurt you cut her deep. And she was inconsolable, her protectiveness for you coming through fiercely.

Bradley shook his head, his voice slightly bitter. "You're just a kid, Sadie. You don't know how relationships work. It's complicated."

Her eyes blazed with determination. While she might be the youngest, never once had anyone treated her as if she was stupid or deserving of the truth.

"Just because I'm young doesn't mean my feelings don't matter!" She was becoming frustrated now, tears starting to leak from her eyes. And her head was beginning to hurt again. Yet, she persisted.

"Everyone but my Aunt reminds me I'm a kid! That I don't know enough! But I know when someone is being a bully! And you are one!"

She cast her eyes down to the floor, slowly side-stepping until she was behind her Uncle Jake. He immediately cradled the back of her head.

"My aunt has never been happier than she is with Uncle Jake!" She tried to say through the pain. "I will not let you hurt them."

Who was this person, she thought, glaring up at him with utter disappointment, that had taken the place of her Uncle Roo? The one that promised to look out for her, for you, when her mom had died. Who held her hand and told her it was going to be okay? Who went with her after school and soccer practice for ice cream and let her talk about her feelings?

This wasn't the Uncle Roo she loved.

So for the first time in her life, Sadie knew what it was like to see someone she loved so dearly fall from the pedestal she had put him on. And in trying to understand what it meant, she didn't know whether to be upset at him or upset with herself.

"Leave!" She cried out, turning her face into Jake's leg, trying to soothe the pounding in her head. "Just leave! I don't want you here anymore!"

Nat frowned at Sadie before stepping in front of her, blocking Rooster's view of her. She crossed her arms and glared at him heatedly. Then Bob joined Nat, copying her stance and echoing, "Do you need help seeing yourself out?"

Then Fanboy stood beside Nat, Payback to Bob, all four standing as a barrier between Sadie, Jake, and Bradley. He couldn't believe what was happening in front of him. His team had yet to take his side but remained on Hangman's.

And if that wasn't the final nail in the coffin, Sadie pointed towards the front door, without ever lifting her face from Jake's leg, and said through tears, "Bye, Bradley."

Bradley turned on his heel and stormed out of the room without another word, his heavy footsteps echoing in the tense silence that followed. The rest of the squad watched in silence, their expressions a mix of concern as the front door slammed.

Despite the tension in the room, everyone sighed, turning around to check on Sadie. But before anyone could comment on what happened, Coyote shot around the corner of the hall, eyes wide as he exclaimed panickily, "I can't find Liz."

There were mixed replies, Nat asking if he checked the backyard while Bob asked about your bedroom. Fanboy and Payback decided to look out in the yard while Jake stared after the front door, his hand still resting gently on the back of Sadie's head.

But she sighed, wiping her eyes, knowing exactly where you were. "It's okay. I know."

Stepping sideways, Sadie reached up to grasp Jake's hand. Everyone watched the pair disappear while Bob walked to the front door, ensuring Bradley had heeded Sadie's request and had left.

Leading him down the hall to the bathroom next to your room, Sadie reached the door apprehensively, slowly reaching up to twist the knob and carefully pushing forward.

It wasn't the first time she had found you like this. That was before her mom passed away, and you still lived with them. Her mom had explained at the time something had 'triggered' you. She hadn't understood what it meant, but she knew something had happened that caused you to be sad. She remembered how her mom had climbed into the tub with you, pulled your head into the crook of her neck and cooed as you sobbed.

Letting go of her Uncle's hand, she left him standing in the doorway as she walked over to the tub, peering over the edge. You had curled yourself up into a ball, arms covering your face as your fingers had threaded themselves into the hair at the back of your skull.

From what Sadie could remember, you looked exactly as you did then. Trying to look small under the white light, encased by tile and silver.

Without hesitation, Sadie climbed over the ledge, her small hands peeling your arm away from your face as she curled herself next to you, hugging you tight.

"I'm sorry, Sadie," you gasped, arms wrapping around her.

"What for?"

"I shouldn't be crying like this around you. I need to be strong, the adult..."

Sadie pulled back, her small hands grabbing your cheeks, first wiping at your tears before trailing her thumbs down to your dimples, hooking them in the corners and stretching your mouth outwards.

"I'm allowed to cry, but you're not? That's not fair, Aunt Liz."

She watched as your face registered her words, grateful for the little crook of a smile at the corner of your lips.

She wouldn't even try fixing what Bradley had done to you. There were no magical fairy godmothers or instant health potions for this, no star she could wish on with enough power that would solve everything. Sadie only knew you were hurt.

So, as you did for her when you found her in the guest bedroom of her friend's house when her mom died, she let you cry.

And what could she say or do after that but tell you what she did to Rooster?

"I kicked him out."

"What?"

"He hurt you," she shrugged, totally not owning up to the fact she had challenged an authority figure and had him thrown out of the house. You looked at her, panicked, the question half spilling from your lips, "Did you.."

"Relax," she said in typical Sadie fashion. "I didn't hear what he said. But it was enough."

"Sadie..."

"Sometimes people do bad things. And you didn't make him say those things to you."

You sniffed, rubbing at your nose. "I kind of did. I may have told him something he didn't want to hear."

Sadie bit her lip before asking, "Did he need to hear it?"

Her mom would always ask that when things went wrong. If someone did need to hear it, you shouldn't spare anyone's feelings. It was better, to be honest, than not.

Her eyes quickly flashed over your shoulder, Uncle Jake having moved at some point from leaning against the door frame to sitting on the floor, just on the other side of the tub. He had been so quiet she hadn't even heard him sit down.

"Probably. But not in the way I did it." You closed your eyes, lightly knocking the side of your head on the bottom of the tub.

Sadie looked back at you. "Then do what Mum always did. Don't regret it."

"But.."

She reached up and pressed her tiny finger to your lips, instantly quieting you, before remarking, "This is a 'No questions asked,' Aunt Liz."

Sadie didn't let you say another word, pulling herself into you so she could hug you, resting her cheek atop yours, closing her eyes and sighing when she realized you had stopped crying.

When Sadie eventually opened her eyes, looking up over the rim of the tub, her Uncle Jake was still there, his presence unknown to you. He wasn't looking at her; he was looking down at you with a tender look and a sad smile. It was like he wanted to reach out and comfort you. But he also didn't want to disturb the two of you.

At that moment, everything her mom had ever wanted for you made sense.

Yes, Sadie thought. He was the one her mom always talked about.

The one she had hoped you would find after those phone conversations at the kitchen table. The one that took care of you. That looked out and stood up for you. That made you laugh. Made you happy.

It may be time for you to open the shoebox on the top shelf of your closet, she thought.

Those letters were undoubtedly meant for him.

We have fluff next chapter! I promise!

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Part 14: Sex on Fire coming soon

^ and yes, there is some smut coming up ^

Wickett ;)

188 notes · View notes

sirianasims · 8 months

Text

We had decided to just let things happen naturally after the wedding, and it didn’t take long until I was pregnant.

We were both overjoyed, and our roommates were excited for us. Griffin immediately started changing our weekly meal plans around the nutritional requirements of pregnant women.

I asked if he was sure he still wanted to be a surgeon and not become a nutritionist instead, but he laughed it off.

“Freya, don’t be silly. You can do more than one thing with your life! Just look at Daria. Would you tell her to choose whether she wants to only do programming or podcasting or animal rights activism?”

“You know I’d never dare tell Daria what to do, but I honestly don’t understand how she finds the time.”

“Exactly, priorities!” Griffin looked at me like he’d just won the discussion and went back to his meal planning.

I thought about it. Sports had always taken up most of my time, and the rest I spent with friends and family. I didn’t really have any other interests, unless you counted reading a book or watching a movie. Griffin had his cooking, Daria seemed to be doing all the things, and even Jessica had a fashion blog.

At least Samuel was more like me, we both tended to focus on our careers and family. He wanted to specialise in paediatrics, he really loved working with children.

He was so excited about becoming a father. He kept flipping between ‘doctor mode’, spewing random facts about child development and asking me how I was feeling, and ‘dad mode’ where he obsessed about names and insisted on talking to my belly in silly voices.

It was pretty adorable. I couldn’t wait for us to finally meet our baby. We were going to be the best parents ever, together.

Nothing like my own parents.

I wasn’t even three years old when they split up. My father then proceeded to spend almost five years drinking and whoring his way through a pretty miserable existence.

Still, most of my memories of him back then were good. Even though he was troubled, he was always so happy to see me, and he always came to my games or picked me up from practice.

I remembered our trip to Mt. Komorebi vividly. The snowboarding had been amazing, and I loved spending time with my dad.

But then I had woken up from a nightmare in the big, dark, and unfamiliar house. I had felt very alone.

I was used to living by the harbour with my mother, used to the constant noise outside.

Here, the thick snow blanketed everything and it was eerily quiet.

I couldn’t remember how to turn on the lights, so I stumbled into the dark hallway, blinded by tears, only vaguely certain of where my dad’s bedroom was.

He wasn’t there.

It wasn’t the first time in my life that I’d gone to his bedroom to find it empty, but at home, it just meant that he was downstairs watching TV, or had fallen asleep on the couch with Cooper snuggled up next to him. Here, there was no sound of a TV or any light anywhere. The house felt completely deserted.

I knew I wasn’t really alone, my grandparents were in their bedroom somewhere downstairs, but I was afraid to go down there. I didn’t even want to go back into the dark hall.

I curled up on the big, empty bed. Surely, my dad would come. He had to sleep sooner or later.

I don’t remember crying myself to sleep, but I remember waking up.

My dad had been there, moisture still in his hair, fresh from a shower. With the smell of toothpaste and only the faintest hint of alcohol left on his breath.

I always hated that particular combination of smells.

He’d promised never to leave me again, and he hadn’t. Much later, I learned that he had started therapy as soon as we got home, and as far as I knew, he hadn’t touched alcohol for over fifteen years now. But I still remembered the smell.

I put my hands protectively on my growing belly.

“I’m going to do a better job than they did, no matter what it takes”, I whispered.

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen4 #freya duchelli #samuel ward #griffin hart #eric duchelli

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lostonehero · 7 months

Text

Ok fuck cannon for both series mech tma au

Also mech Martin as a treat

"W-wait." Jonny stopped holding up his hand before Nastya could set the dimension hop.

"The great Jonny d'Ville stuttering? Never thought I would see the day." Nastya rolls her eyes. "What's wrong? You want to get Martin, right?"

"I..." Jonny sighs and looks at Tim and then back to the rest of the crew and eventually Nastya. He fishes out a pair of glasses from his pocket.

"Smarts Jonny." Ivy raised her brow.

Jonny sighs and crosses his arms. "Tim and I have other versions of ourselves in that universe."

"So?" Raphaella quirks her brow. "Extra parts to experiment with."

"Not exactly." Jonny takes a breath. "Any universe or reality doesn't like copies and to remedy that well... we won't be able to stay here." He starts to motion his hands as his tail starts to lash back and forth. "The reality has a way to correct this, and that is to physically fuse myself with my alter, and the same will happen to Tim. I literally have no idea what that will even do."

Brian tilts his head. "So what you're saying that that there is a chance you'll both dissapear?"

"Not exactly, but kind of." Jonny shrugs, removing his glasses. "Eh, it's whatever just wanted to warn you fucks. Tim and I agreed to go through it. We all were already fucked around with the promise of actual death and waking up before, and who knows Martin's world goes through a literal apocalypse so that will be fun."

Tim nods. "We both have bets going on about how it works. I also get to go to a less advanced version of where I'm from. I really want to see what's that like. Also, I saved Bertie, and he got a long life, so I'm honestly fine with a true death."

Raphaella looks at both of them. "If both of you truly die, can I do an autopsy of your bodies to see what came over?"

"Why the fuck not? I don't give a shit I'll be dead." Jonny hums and raises a brow at Ashes. "What?"

"You'll be human." Ashes motions vaguely to his obvious status as not human.

"Huh." Jonny scratches his stubble. "I'll miss my tail if I remember any of it."

Tim snickers. "I'll be fine."

Ivy smirks. "What if your alternate has short hair?" She pauses. "Also, I want earth books."

"I have a new fear." Tim sighs.

Nastya pauses. "Are you sure?"

TS smiles. "I Think They Already Agreed. Bring Me Back A Earth Cat."

"You heard them let's fucking go." Jonny reached out and grabs Tim's hand. "I ain't living for the rest of time without Blackwood."

"Neither I am." Tim nods. "All speed ahead."

Nastya sighs. "This is a terrible idea, but if both of you still remain, I suppose stopping the apocalypse would please Aurora..... oh hmmmm." She puts the ship full throttle, and in an instant, Jonny and Tim vanish.

......

Martin woke up on his back, which honestly is the weirdest way he could wake up second to the alarm on his... he knew the word for the thing, but he couldn't recall it. He barely fumbled to turn off that obnoxious noise. What was a much more pressing manner was the fact his body was wrong, well correct but that was wrong. He can't recall when he had normal legs and feet... he could, but he would much rather forget the time before the good doctor got her hands on him. He was abnormal for a mechanism since his mechanism was organic in nature his lower half was that of a spider. Of course, he didn't hate it he wanted something different after that.

Ok, at the time, he thought himself a monster and tried to kill himself a multitude of times. He grew out of it. Obviously, it would have been a bleak eternity otherwise. He had a vague feeling of where he was, but the word peaches and worms came to mind. He kind of knew what that meant, but he was more so annoyed that this afterlife was basically before he became a mech. He had to figure out what he was doing.

Maybe if he went too... uh oh right the Magnus Institute, that's when he worked a normal job on earth. This was earth he hoped it wasn't in his head that this was some elaborate death dream because that would be a first. He should try to recall more of this if he is ever going to get through this weird afterlife. He hoped it was an afterlife because if not it meant that he wasn't dead, and he didn't want to do that without Jonny and Gunpowder Tim, and of course, the rest of the crew.

He got showered after figuring out the old-fashioned shower and got dressed in familiar clothes he didn't want to remember. He knew he had to remember, but he really didn't want to. He knew how this world worked. Public transport was easy, and soon, he arrived at the very institute that set everything in motion. What's that saying like a hover bike? Or a bicycle? He will remember what to do and go through the motions.

"You're late." A pretentious pompous voice sneered at Martin.

Martin paused, staring at the man studying him, and he reminded him of Jonny, and a name spilled from his lips. "Jon?"

"Did you hit your head on your way here? Of course I'm Jon." The short man shoved a stack of papers in his arms. "Get through these and try not to fall behind."

Martin frowns and takes the stack of statements. He knew they were statements. Some real some fake, and he had an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach that this wasn't the afterlife. He sat at his desk and stared at a computer, which he didn't recall the password for, and just started to read. He couldn't think about who he saw by him.

"Geez Marto, you ok?" That was Tim, not gunpowder, but Stoker. He was rubbing his eyes, but it was still him.

Martin knew the moment he saw her not corrupted by a thing that wore her skin poorly he might add he knew he wasn't in the afterlife and his death was a fucking lie. He wanted his final death with the rest of them. Did they also wake up before they became? Before the doctor got a hold of them? He takes a breath and sighs. "I'm fine." He forced himself to say. He noticed Tim was bleeding around his eyes. He chose to get up and wet some napkins to help.

"Tim, you really should see a doctor for that." Sasha frowns.

"I'm fine it's probably from my contacts. I'll wear my glasses, and the problem should clear up." Tim gives finger guns as his eyes water.

Martin sighs. "Tim, you're crying."

"Not emotionally." Tim snickers at his joke. "I'm fine. I probably just need rest and to get new contacts." His eyes stop watering after a moment, but it doesn't stop him from rubbing them like they ached.

Martin wasn't convinced, but he knew better than to push it normally got him shot or someone crying in his arms. He knew that didn't matter here. This place wasn't.... he wasn't home. "I'll make some tea for everyone."

"Thank you, Martin." Tim smiles as he rubs his eyes.

"Amazing as always." Sasha smiles.

Martin nodded and distracted himself with making tea. It didn't last long enough as he gave out the tea. He stepped into Jon's office, and he raised a brow at the scene he walked into. Jon was sitting on his knees in a chair not built for that position. "I made you some tea."

Jon nods, rubbing at his chest. "Right."

Martin paused and decided to push his luck. "Why are you sitting like that?"

Jon scowls and takes his mug of tea, and takes a sip. "My lower back aches, and it is worse if I sit normally. My painkillers haven't kicked in."

"Ah, alright, just be careful, alright." Martin smiles, hoping he was acting enough like he did before.

.....

Tim groans as he stares at the bottle of eye drops the doctor gave him. It did literally nothing. His eyes ached and burned, and no matter what he did, the pain wouldn't go away. It's been two weeks, and it's only gotten worse, and he hasn't been able to do anything to relieve it.

He used the heels of his hand and pressed them into his eyes for any sort of relief that wouldn't come. Doctors couldn't find anything wrong and called him basically crazy because there was nothing wrong with his eyes. He knew something was wrong. He knew something was happening.

Tim was desperate. If the eye pain wasn't enough, he was starting to have weird dreams of a man with mechanical eyes. They would talk, and Gunpowder, the other guy picked that name. Don't ask him why it suited him. The memories... no dreams, he keeps having to correct himself. The dreams Gunpowder tells him are his memories, and he apologizes for them all the time. At one point, these memories became his own, but the only thing it did was make Gunpowder more solid in his mind.

Tim liked Gunpowder he was kind and a bit odd, but he didn't feel alone. He hasn't felt seen or known since his brother. Fuck he really missed Danny.

"You have his memories."

Tim nearly fell backward. That was Gunpowder, but he was awake if the pain was anything to say about that. His eyes scanned the small bathroom, searching for the source of the voice, but he didn't see anything. Maybe he was hearing things. The statements were probably getting to him.

Tim sighs and shuts the lights off, and heads to the couch. He just needed to sleep, that's all. Sleep came quickly these days, and he woke up not in Gunpowder's memories but to a futuristic bedroom. He knew this place from some more steamy memories from Gunpowder. Speaking of him, he was lounging in the bed holding a bottle that no longer had labels.

Gunpowder flicked his mechanical eyes to glance at Tim. His long hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and a pair of goggles was around his neck. He held up the bottle. "Shit doesn't do much in here but wants some?"

Tim shook his head as he approached and sat on the edge of the bed. "Did you say something?"

"When you started to spiral? Yeah." Gunpowder sits up, putting the bottle aside. "I'm not as well versed in this theoretical nonesense as Jonny is, but I think it's almost complete." He reached his hand out, and Tim allowed him to grab it. "Soon we'll be together awake and asleep, probably when my eyes finally form. Again, sorry about the pain."

"I don't think I'm able to believe you." Tim had that sinking feeling of dread that he knew Gunpowder was right. "Why?"

"We wanted to save our third to complete us." Gunpowder pulls his hand away. "Eternity isn't great when you're missing someone that helps complete you. We were also promised an apocalypse, and that did sound fun."

"Love is a good reason." Tim wanted to reach out again but refrained. "So would you be able to take over like a ghost?"

Gunpowder laughs. "I ain't no ghost, but maybe again, Jonny knows more about this bullshit than I do."

Tim nods and gets up approaching the door.

"Are you sure?"

"If what you say is true, I might as well know more about you." Tim opened the door and vanished into memories that weren't his own.

Gunpowder picked the bottle up again and sighed. "I wonder if Jonny is having a good time."

.....

Jon felt even worse, he however did not go to the doctor even at Martin insistent, he was acting odd more so than normal, and it made his work even worse. He stripped off his shirt and pants, then finally his binder and groans. The red spot on his lower back right on his tailbone he could pass off as bug bite, now ballooned into a throbbing red mass that was completely solid to the touch.

He really wanted to keep ignoring it, but he felt something move under his skin, and it scared him half to death. Every part of him felt wrong, to his privates they were extra sensitive more so then when he started T to his ears that were bright red and painful, to his head that he can feel growing bumps on his head. The worst of it was his chest, his heart was constantly beating erratically, and he could swear he heard a ticking like a metronome in his chest. Everything was wrong, and yet he just crawled into his bed.

No to Jon, the worst part were these dreams that were nothing but fiction, and this Jonny character was a idiot, a violent obnoxious idiot. Jonny talked to him. He purposely argued with him and teased him. That ass was crude and didn't have a fucking care in the world the complete opposite of himself. He was some vile creature that probably spawned from the statements he read.

Jon bit down on his pillow, he moved wrong, and his sensitive privates sent nerves and sparks through his body. He was asexual he shouldn't have these desires, and he shouldn't be thinking about his coworkers in this matter. Why the fuck was Martin a spider creature it scared him but also thrilled him and he hated these thoughts. Tim was mostly the same, but his hair was long, and his eyes were machines. He blamed Jonny for all of this. But he wasn't real his mind just wanted someone to blame.

That obnoxious crazed laughter rang in Jon's ears. He groaned, spitting out his pillow. "Leave me alone, you annoying hallucination." That only earned him harder laughter. He gave a frustrated yell into his pillow. He refused to listen to the just jerk off from Jonny and grabbed sleeping pills from his draw, and hoped for a dreamless sleep, which he knew was futile. He kept seeing memories that weren't his of some nonesense syfy fan wet dream. Jonny wasn't real, and what he saw wasn't real either.

.......

Sasha moved closer to Tim. "Eyes still bothering you?" She motions to his the dark sunglasses you couldn't see his eyes through.

Tim nods. "Yeah, doctors aren't helping. They feel like they're going to pop." He sighs. "Do you know what's up with boss man?"

Sasha shrugs. "I was going to ask about Martin. He seems more lost than normal, and he seems less jumpy but even more depressed? I don't know he keeps avoiding me every time I try to press."

"I can talk to him if you talk to Jon about his attitude. I watched him yell at Martin first 10 minutes, and Martin just took it with a smile like he didn't care." Tim frowns, rubbing his eyes his vision was getting blurry, and he could feel something wet drip down from his face.

"Eye drops first, you're crying again, and it's not clear." Sasha hands him a tissue. "I'll go talk to Jon."

"You're the best, Sasha." Tim smiles and rushes off to the bathroom. He barely makes it inside when his vision goes dark. He can only whimper in shock as fresh pain blooms where his eyes should be. A wet substance drips down his cheeks, and he barely registers hands on his shoulder, guiding him to sit on the ground.

Soft hands carefully remove the black glasses and a soft curse on his lips from a voice Tim knows, but he can't focus or see who said that. He could feel a wet cloth wipe whatever was on his face.

"Tim, you gotta breathe." That was Gunpowder. He sounded so clear, like he was right next to him. "I know it hurts, but you have to let the machines build themselves. It's actually really neat to watch."

The soft hands were done cleaning his face as he let out a sigh at the loss of touch. And a flash of light burned, and then he heard a soft click like that of a camera and a softer moving of machines like a soft roll. His vision came back way too fast, and suddenly, it was too perfect, and he saw too much. He saw a familiar sweater connected to a man leaning over him. "M-martin?" Of course it was Martin his hands were soft... he didn't know why he thought of them like a cat's paw.

"Blackwood!" Gunpowder gasps.

Martin takes the spoiled hand towel and puts it in his back pocket. "Tim, can you focus on me?"

The soft whirl of machines and Tim was looking at Martin. "What happened?" He could see the hand towel and had a few theories on what the stains were.

Martin smiles softly, and Tim feels calmer.

"Feels safe into the den of the spider." Gunpowder hums. "Do you mind if I just uh..."

Tim barely registered what happened until he was in the spot where Gunpowder was. He saw his body move without him, and he just watched unable to process until it clicked what had happened. "Oh." He watches Martin tilt his head as Gunpowder looks up at him, then he feels a stinging pain as Martin hits them.

Gunpowder holds his cheek and looks to Tim, realizing they both felt it.

Martin takes a breath. "You didn't heed any of my warnings."

Gunpowder smiles staring up at Martin.

Martin falters, and he moves and sits down next to him on the bathroom floor. "Is...?"

"Yeah, Tim's here." Gunpowder hums. "Don't think he made the connection yet."

"That is a given." Martin pulls his knees up. "I haven't.... yaknow, and I'm worried when I do..."

"You won't be able to hide." Gunpowder nods and reaches out to Martin. "Aha, he made the connection."

Martin smiles softly, interlocking his fingers with Tim. "Yeah, a lot of shit happened. Welcome to the madness of it."

"Oh, we're well past madness and circled back round to sanity." Gunpowder chuckles, taking the glasses back. "Talk later?"

Martin nods and watches Tim return to his body. "Are you ok?"

Tim blinks. Well, he thinks he blinks, but he's pretty sure he doesn't have eyelids anymore. "I uh... I think so." He paused. "So where's the spider parts? Don't tell me my shared memories and adult fantasies are a lie."

Martin chuckles. "Oh, you're both horrible. Ask Gunpowder, you ass." He gets up and holds out his hand. "Come on, we have to get back to work before Jon throws another fit."

Tim nods, getting up with Martin's help. "Seriously though, where are the spider bits?"

"I don't actually know, and I don't want to test dying to see if they come back." Martin sighs.

"Ah, fair enough." Tim continues to hold Martin's hand. "I uh...you know what happens..."

Martin frowns. "Tim, for me, it's been well over a few thousand years. My memory isn't perfect. I remember what my mind thinks are the important bits, but I've really tried to forget this happened. The ending isn't a good one." He sighs. "We can talk after work, in the tunnels."

"Tunnels?" Tim raised his brow following Martin, never unlocking their hands.

......

Martin pulled Tim back as emts rushed out with a stretcher. "Who got hurt?"

Sasha rushed over. "I went to check on Jon, and he... he was bleeding, and he was barely breathing. I called the ambulance, and they rushed him to the hospital."

Tim frowns. "Is he ok?"

"I don't know." Sasha gives a soft gasp as Martin pulls her into a hug.

"Hey, you did the right thing. Jon will be fine." Martin smiles softly. "We can visit him after our shift. I'm sure he wouldn't mind visitors."

Sasha hugs him back. "You're right. You're right. He probably knew something was wrong and refused to see a doctor."

Tim sighs. "That does sound like Jon." He paused for a moment. "I, uh yeah, back to work."

Sasha nods, wiping her eyes and pulling away from Martin. "I'm sure he'll appreciate a cleaner archive when he gets back."

Martin nods. "Of course, that sounds great." He grabs Tim's arm. "Tim and I can grab some boxies and start moving things around."

"Oh, that's great." Sasha smiles, watching them leave.

.....

"Why did you grab me?" Tim raised his brow.

"So I think I know what happened to Jon." Martin frowns.

Tim paused, and his demeanor changed, and he sags his shoulders. "Oh, this is not going to be good."

"No, it's not." Martin sighs. "Fuck everything has changed now."

"So, did we do it?" Gunpowder raised his brow.

Martin snickers. "Yeah, not even close. We both know that gods won't take this lying down even if it's Jonny."

"Eh, worth a shot." Gunpowder shrugs. "Blackwood has told me enough to know what Jon ends up as I'll explain later."

.....

Elias adjusts his tie and smiles, looking over his archivist. The unfortunate nature of the Flesh and Stranger working together does have this outcome. Of course, he can pull all the strings needed to have this little incident swept under the rug and tied in a neat bow. He smiles softly, watching him wake up. "Are you alright, Jonathan? You've given us all quite the scare." He stops seeing a scowl that isn't Jon's normal one on his lips.

Jonny's mouth felt like it was full of cotton, and his head was fuzzy, and Jon's nagging didn't exactly help him either. His gaze moved up to the man in a suit. He looked like a prick, an obnoxious wealthy prick. Jon was yelling at him that's his boss and don't fuck this up. Of course he wouldn't fuck this up he knew how to act proper and can copy Jon's boring ass. If he could just focus.

"Jonathan, are you alright? You may have hit your head on the way down. You're on some painkillers." Elias smiles, leaning over him.

Jonny furrows his brows. He hated painkillers and always took the fun out of pain and violence. "...fuzzy..." He managed to mumble. His tolerance to painkillers was null and void due to his affection for actual pain. Couldn't he just get Jon's tolerance and not just the fun new parts to explore. He scowls again at the man above his bed, he wanted to rip that smile off his face.

Elias chuckles softly. "Painkillers will do that, and you're not even on that heavy of a dose. I'm sure your coworkers will be visiting you soon. Hopefully, you'll feel better by then."

Jonny grits his teeth. He had a few choice words for that pompous ass.

"You can't kill him." Jon looked drowsy floating next to him.

At least Jonny wasn't the only one suffering in this cushioned hell. He huffs and turns his head.

Jon chuckles. "Don't be mad. You've got control." He was very out of it. He felt the same effects Jonny was. "What's.... what is uh...." He blinks, unable to form a coherent thought.

Jonny huffs and can't fight the feeling of sleep overtaking him.

......

"So Gunpowder Tim cut a bloody path...." Jonny stops, noticing that his head finally felt clear enough and reciting old ballads of his friends wasn't needed. He looked down at Jon, who was staring at him. He floated down to lay next to Jon. "What's with that look? I already explained our situation to you at nauseum."

Jon scowls, looking away. He then makes a vague motion, unable to explain why he suddenly felt wrong.

Jonny raised his brow. "You've got my dick. Ain't you special."

Jon scoffs, but his face is turning red because he feels that is true. "No..." He huffs.

Jonny paused, watching Jon get frustrated. He didn't feel like sharing in that. He learned early in that they shared emotions, and he had to get used to feeling things that weren't his own. It was honestly worse than Nastya, making him feel Aurora emotions. "I can tell you."

Jon felt himself be pushed out from his body as Jonny took control. He scowls but sighs, watching and feeling Jonny's own emotions. "So? What's wrong with m- us?"

Jonny scowls. "They cut off my fucking tail! It's a fucking bitch to grow that back." He raised his ands and feels around his forehead. "Good, they didn't cut them too short. Actually, I like them short, so this isn't an issue... I'm narrating for you Jon be grateful."

Jon raised his brow. "You can't hear my thoughts?"

"Can you hear mine?" Jonny spits back.

"Fair point." Jon sighs. "Are we ok?"

"Fuck if I know. Everything is new, raw, and sensitive. My dicks never been this fucked before." Jonny growls as he is forced back out by Jon.

"D-Dont do that." Jon pulls the blanket over his body.

Jonny shrugs, not understanding Jon. "Whatever, we just have to adjust." He pauses for a moment, pointing at Jon. "This is earth, right?"

"Yes?" Jon raised his brow.

"Tim and Blackwood always referred to me as a cowboy. What's a cow? I don't think I've ever seen an earth cow."

Jon blinks. "But you have parts like a bull."

"Wait, I thought it was called cows." Jonny returned a confused look.

Jon shakes his head. "Alien, right, you're an alien. You don't know human er earth animals. Cows don't have sharp teeth like you, but uh, bulls are basically male cows, but cows are the general term used."

"Can I see what they look like?" Jonny floated to lay next to Jon.

"Yeah, when I get my phone." Jon paused. "Are you upset I wasn't born a man?"

"Why would I care? You've got my dick now, and I have a new hole to play with. This is a win for me." Jonny shrugs and raised his brow feeling relief pour from Jon.

"Thank you." Jon says quietly.

"Ok?" Jonny shrugs floating to look around the hospital room.

......

Sasha slams on the breaks. "Tim what the fuck."

Tim's eyes clicked and whirled. He was told only he could hear this by Gunpowder. Well, both can hear since they share a body. He reaches for his glasses and realizes he took them off because his ears were bothering him. He could feel the look from Gunpowder and Martin on him. "It's a long story."

Sasha rocketed to a spot to park, and she twisted her body to the back seat. "Tim explain now!"

Martin bites his lip and blurts out. "It's my fault. I'm supposed to be dead, both me and Gunpowder. Promised an end to eternity, and it was a farce and I'm back here like this, and I really tried to forget about this part of my life. I mean for fucks sake you die and get replaced Sasha and none of us notice for a year because of how it worked. Tim dies in an explosion, destroying the circus, and that isn't to mention the fucked up paranoia from Jon and extreme levels of fucked up creatures that I mean now I can look back at and laugh but you can't you're mortal. I mean, these are fear gods, so I mean they will get to you eventually."

Gunpowder grabs Martin's hand. "Martin, that's enough. The only reason Jonny knew about my past was because he was playing soldier and was with me. You don't have to..." He stops as Martin waves him off.

"No, it's fine. Tim and Sasha deserve to know." Martin sighs. "I'll tell you what I can remember it has been a few thousand years since I've been through this."

.....

Sasha swallows. "I believe you."

Martin blinks. "Why?"

"I've had a bad feeling, and I knew Gertrude didn't just go missing." Sasha then points to Tim. "Also look at his fucking eyes Martin that's pretty good evidence."

Gunpowder nods.

Martin gives a nervous smile. "I'm sorry I've gotten used to things over the years. I like Tim's eyes."

"Yeah, yeah, don't boast his ego." Sasha puts her seat belt back on. "So keep your glasses on Tim. We're going to visit Jon if the same thing happened to him like you."

"It's equally as possible. Jon worked himself into a delusional state and just hurt himself." Martin shrugs.

Tim blinks back in control. "That's really dark."

"No, no, Martin has a point." Sasha starts the car again. "Remember that incident in research."

"I tried to forget, but I see your point." Tim sighs, putting his glasses back on.

Martin sighs. "Hopefully that isn't the case."

.....

Jon shifted uncomfortably as he sat up. Jonny wasn't lying. The tail thing was incredibly uncomfortable and annoying. He stared at the hospital food in front of him and was told he couldn't leave till tomorrow. He hated hospital food, and he hated hospitals.

"Stop pouting." Jonny rolls his eyes. "I can feel your emotions and pouting won't get you nowhere."

"Oh, then what can I do? Please enlighten me." Jon scowls taking a bite of his peas.

"For one, actually eat. How the fuck are you in such shit condition? Do you even know what fun is?" Jonny shook his head. "You can't do shit without meat on your bones, and you look half starved. You're a fucking disaster."

Jon continues to scowl, not saying a word.

The door opens to his room.

"Blackwood!" Jonny floats through him, trying to tackle him. "Fuck."

Martin smiles softly as Tim and Sasha follow behind him. "We wanted to make sure you're ok."

"You gave me a scare, Jon." Sasha crosses her arms. "You need to learn how to take a break, or at least see a doctor."

Tim was odd wearing sunglasses that completely hid his eyes, but he knew Tim was having trouble with his eyes. "You look awful."

Jon can't help but give a soft smile. "Just wasn't paying attention and hit my head." He motions to the bandages around his head and ears.

"Don't lie to Blackwood. That man can see through any lie you spit." Jonny crosses his arms. "Besides, I bet you control of my choosing that Gunpowder is in your Tim."

Jon ignores him. "Ah you didn't have to bring me anything."

Martin smiles softly as he pulls out a chocolate slice of cake. "It's just some chocolate cake. I mean, you don't have to have it..." He stops as Jon's demeanor changes in an instant as he pushes his food aside.

Jon was forced out and watched Jonny make grabby hands.

"Give it here, Blackwood." Jonny huffs. "Don't you fucking tempt me."

Martin's expression changed, and Jon could feel a shiver down his back. "You and your sweet tooth." He tisks, placing the slice down.

Jonny grabs the container. "Fuck you." He huffs and has enough decency to use a fork. "Your fucking lucky I have to fix this body or I would end you."

Jon watches Tim snicker. "You lost height!" His snickers turn to giggles.

"Piss off." Jonny scoffs.

Sasha raised her brow. "How did you know the cake would work?"

"d'Ville only has one craving he can't quit, and it ain't cigarettes." Gunpowder smirks, taking off his glasses, revealing his mechanical eyes.

Jonny scowls. "Oh fuck you. I don't deny myself pleasures like you."

"I have manners you lack." Tim spits back.

Martin chuckles and has a glint in his eyes and a sinister smile that again Jon can't tear his eyes from. "Now, both of you, that's enough." He moves closer and leans over Jonny. "How about you behave and finish all of your food, and maybe I'll convince the doctors to let you leave early?"

Jon can feel the tug, no the crashing wave of desire, and just pure love spill from Jonny, and if they had his tail, it would be wagging like a dog.

Jonny, for his part, nods eagerly. "It would be faster if you fed me." He purrs back.

Martin steps back. "Don't push your luck. I'm mad at you."

In a split second, that emotion was gone, replaced with annoyance. Jon had to shake his head from the whiplash.

"We agreed!" Jonny huffs stuffing his face with food. "It's not like you were there with your bleeding heart. You weren't there, I woke up after that bar in that... look, I'm not having this conversation."

Jon could feel a bubble of an emotion, one that he knew should leave unspoken. He remains quiet watching Martin.

Martin gaze didn't break, let alone change. He crosses his arms. "Did you do the same?"

Jonny swallows his final bite. "I can't say I wanted to change it, so I didn't."

Martin's gaze seems to finally soften. "Good, he didn't deserve forgiveness." He reached out and pat Jonny's shoulder. "That's my cowboy." He pauses. "What's with the frown?"

"They cut off my tail." Jonny sounded honest and small.

Jon was taken aback.

"I never said humanity was a kind species." Martin brushes a stray piece of hair out of Jonny's face. "It will grow back."

"Not the point." Jonny sighs. "How's your former mortal." His gaze shifted to Tim.

"Probably better than yours with the adjustment." Gunpowder slides his glasses back on. "You look like shit."

"Not my fault." Jonny mutters.

"Never said it was." Gunpowder muses. "Maybe you shouldn't have asked Martin for his story."

Martin rolls his eyes. "Just because you're bitter doesn't mean you get to drag me into this argument again." He walks by Sasha, grabbing her arm. "Would you like to hear more while they complain?"

Sasha nods. "Sure, why not." She follows Martin out of the room as he shuts the door behind him.

Gunpowder frowns. "Don't give me that look. I already got an earful from him, and to be fair, he warned both of us to wait. Now, why do you think this didn't happen the first time?"

"Aren't you just full of dumb questions." Jonny adjusts his glasses. "They were already dead and gone by the time we crossed the first time. This place was fine. I dunno Blackwood said it's been. I dunno fifty years since it ended and started again." He raised his brow at something Tim couldn't see. "You do know what apocalypse means, right? Right well that happened, and you died before I came here the first time."

Gunpowder waves his hand. "Jonny, stop, we both know what happened in the end. They don't know the full truth yet, neither of them."

Jonny frowns and stares at Tim. "How long do you think it will take till being the good guy gets old?"

"Who knows? We've never tried it." Gunpowder shrugs. "You should hold off on being honest about this world, as much as I know you like your stories and songs. Unless you want to deal with Jon."

Jonny waves him off. "Whatever, it doesn't matter now he'll learn as I will annoyingly to see his memories. Just let me figure this out, and as much as I hate to see you two on good terms compared to my situation. Just wait."

For what, Jon had no idea, but this Gunpodwer did, who nodded.

"Seriously though, figure something out with this Jon. You seriously look worse than when we were starving, as a competition." Gunpowder sighs. "Blackwood..." He looks through the door. "Yeah, he already convinced the doctors and nurses to let you go, and they are on their way. Enjoy your new home, alone." He smirks as he leaves.

Jon was flung back into his body, feeling Jonny fuming, but the other man was uncharacteristic silent. He had to think this over and what this actually meant. So he died the first time, but when and how? Before or after the apocalypse?

.......

He wasn't truly alone, not anymore. Jon sunk into his bed and opened his phone. "How did Martin even convince them to let me leave?"

"He's got a way of trapping people making them do what he wants." Jonny hums. "Now, show me a picture of a cow."

Jon wanted to press, but he quickly learned pleasing Jonny was the best way to get answers. He pulled up a picture of a cow and a bull and held it up.

Jonny was quiet studying the creatures he saw. He broke into a wide grin. "They look cute, don't they. Good cows."

Jon hums and sighs. "You said Martin told you what happens to this world. What happens? Why did he become one of you? What are you guys?"

Jonny frowns. "I rather not feel your stupid emotions." He scratches behind his ear. "You won't let this go. However, Blackwood warned me you were insistent, so I might as well spin you a tale." Suddenly, a harmonica appeared in his hands. "A tragic fate of star-crossed lovers doomed by forces beyond their control, and a man turned to a monster that was left in the ruins."

Jon listened to the haunting story on a soft melody. He learned how his coworkers, no his friends, died. How he roamed the wastelands the fears as the apocalypse he caused reigned, how Martin stayed by his side even though he caused this by being tricked. The story ended in a sharp blade.

Jonny stopped. "And you were no more as the pancoption crumbled the archive now, just a man taking his final breath. An ending driven by a man afraid of death and so willing to please a god who didn't care for him as nothing more than a tool. Blackwood crushed but was not dead. A familiar doctor just happened to be passing by the rubble. She wanted to try something new, just not machines anymore, something animalistic, something new. And so Blackwood became a monster a first of his kind." He stretches. "Immortality such a boring goal, isn't it? You would think you would want something more interesting."

Jon was speechless he couldn't string together thoughts.

Jonny frowns, feeling the rush of emotions. "Look..." He swallows and feels tears drip down his face. He was frustrated that he couldn't stop this. He hated emotions, and he hated being honest to himself, but Jon still viewed himself as mortal, and he won't be raw without his partners. He floated down beside Jon and let him cry. He couldn't stop it. The rush of emotions overwhelmed him.

Jon finally spoke. "How do I stop it?"

"Fuck if I know. I wasn't here. I heard the story from Blackwood." Jonny was purposely looking away from him. "You have to ask him, but we promised to play the good guys this time around, or well, until it gets boring."

"We're going to stop this." Jon tried to muster confidence he didn't have.

Jonny just sighs. "Go to bed. Watch some of my memories. If you don't start trying to fix your body, I will do it by force."

Jon pulls his blanket up and frowns. He falls into an unsteady sleep.

......

Elias raised his brow, watching his archivist return to work. "Jonathan, I did tell you to take time to rest after yesterday." He had a smile and a silver tongue.

Jonny scoffs. "He's worse sober."

Jon smiles nervously. "I'm fine, Elias." He adjusts his hat covering his new sensitive ears. His tail had already started to grow back, and Jonny said it's a side effect of immortality, which Jon didn't believe in. It's supposed to be much longer than a cow's tail and semi prehensile. He wanted to test it but knew better than to try anything in public.

Elias frowns. "Now, Jon, I don't need you working yourself sick again." He knew the effects of the stranger and the flesh it probably hasn't hit the man yet, and he didn't want him breaking down having him explain the truth.

Jon frowns. "I'm fine, Elias. I know how to take care of myself. I'm going to get back to work."

Elias frowns, crossing his arms and watching Jon rush off to the archives . He raises his brow, and seeing the start of a tail, he is informed that it is cut off. It shouldn't be growing back this fast. He had a few connections to pull to get more information. He had no desire to pick another archivist nor start again.

......

"We should kill him." Jonny floats next to Jon, his tail lazily flicking behind him.

"Elias is my boss. I'm not going to kill him." Jon scowls as he hears Tim snickers. "Tim, that's enough."

Tim hums, Jon can see his hair is curling and is getting lighter than the black he has. "I don't think so, bossman. We think it's quite hilarious Jonny's on a leash."

Jon was pushed out as Jonny took control. "Oh go fuck yourself you fucking cunt." Jonny stomps off to Jon's office making it a point to slam the door.

Martin snickers from the entrance and refrains from explaining Elias can see them. Oh, that would be hilarious. Does he know Jon and Jonny are sharing a body, or does he think that the fears changed Jon? Either way, things have changed, and he wants to see Elias... no Jonah squirm with the unpredictability. Martin will force him to realize immortality is not worth it, and death is a gift. He silently walks to his desk and takes a seat.

"Enjoying the show?" Tim smirks. "We are."

"Oh, I'm enjoying something else." Martin smiles back.

"Already knitting a web, I see." Gunpowder nods. "I always enjoy the finished project."

Martin taps his fingers against his desk. "You know I think it's not a Web I rather not get mixed up with that particular fear I think I can recall the avatar is kind of a right bitch."

"Really? You have to explain the fear thing better because some of them just sound fun or fun to kill." Gunpowder smirks.

"Later, and Sasha already made a list." Martin points to Sasha sipping her coffee.

"You two share a body. Did you not pay attention when Tim was reading it?" Sasha raised her brow.

Tim huffs. "I couldn't figure out how to turn off the Xray vision on these damn eyes until like an hour before I slept." He had a slight blush on his cheeks. "Then the damn things wouldn't stop focusing on objects miles away."

Gunpowder took back control. "To be fair, I still have trouble controlling them. Human biology and mechanical parts tend to fight until they get into a rhythm. Also, I have like a million years of experience, and Tim does not."

Sasha frowns. "That sounds actually awful. Does Jonny have these problems?"

Gunpowder shrugs. "He never complains, and if he dislikes something, he's quite vocal. I think he uses the ticking as a metronome."

Martin nods. "As boney as he is, he's very nice to sleep too. The ticking is quite soothing." He sighs. "Granted, I won't be able to enjoy any of that for a long while, I reckon."

"Shit, I remembered that this isn't a desert planet." Gunpowder pauses. "Jonnys going to be a little bitch."

"Why?" Sasha raised her brow.

"Jonny's originally from a mostly desert planet, so his tail ears and horns were basically made to keep him cool. Even the nights were hot, so he doesn't exactly have any defenses against the cold, and he makes his complaints known as Gunpowder said." Martin hums. "Although he loves the snow and rain."

"We never said the man made sense." Gunpowder shrugs, letting Tim back in control.

Sasha tilts her head. "What was the planet like that you're from?"

"Gunpowder is from the earth of a different dimension." Tim taps his pen against his desk and adjusts his glasses. "He did however blow up the moon."

"Now you're just fucking with me." Sasha rolls her eyes and heads back to her desk.

Martin chuckles. "Don't feel bad about it. In this time, we've barely had any people on the moon."

"See, I told you!" Tim huffs. "He wouldn't listen to me or the facts I provided."

"Tim, you have to understand where we're coming from. We lived on a spaceship." Martin hums heading to his desk to start working.

Tim sighs. "Still annoying."

.....

Martin stares at the bloody fingernails in the sink. He knew his luck was running out. His body wasn't going to wait till his first death. He could feel how tight his skin felt and how it was hard to walk to breathe. He wasn't scared to become what he was supposed to be, but it would make this so much harder. He flexed his hand, seeing the black claw nails start to poke through his flesh. He doesn't truly care he made peace ages ago with what the doctor made him.

Elias watched Martin with a curious gaze. He can feel the Beholder use his eyes to watch intently. He had a feeling in his gut something changed something twisted in the mere fabric of reality. He hasn't even checked on Jon since he arrived this morning, and the Beholder agreed that something more interesting was happening. Martin was unassuming and predictable, but this was new, and he wanted to know why. He wasn't an avatar, and that also fueled his curiosity. How is he changing without one of the fears?

Martin rubbed his eyes and sighed. He had time, and he had time to prepare. He wanted Jonny. He just wanted that soft ticking, Gunpowder could soothe his anxieties, but Jonny was a comfort. Sure, the man was brash rude and a devil, but he was his, and that was enough. Gunpowder wouldn't touch him till Tim was fully on board with him, and Martin respected that. Hell he was fucking happy with that. Jonny, however, was a mystery, Jon was tighter lipped, and he knew how long it took for Jon to even understand his emotions, let alone actually relie on others.

Martin gathered his fingernails from the sink and threw them out with a sigh. Maybe he could go to artifact storage to slow things. Well, that has just a likely chance to kill him. He doesn't care. Maybe he could convince Gunpowder and Tim to head to the tunnels properly. He finished washing his hands, not even flinching at the exposed nerves.

Elias's gaze intensified as he watched Tim enter the bathroom. More importantly, he removed his sunglasses, revealing new eyes. When did he get surgery? More importantly, how can he still see? He shut his eyes, and he was seeing from Tim's eyes.

Tim scratched his chin. "Martin, you alright?"

Elias saw a man in the mirror that wasn't Tim.

Martin sighs. "I'm fine." He stretches. "Just a bit achey, what about you?"

"I'm fine." Tim crosses his arms. "Ok, maybe not entirely fine, but I'm getting used to it."

The man in the mirror that wasn't Tim spoke and Elias could hear him.

"I know my scars aren't pretty, and I'm sorry." The not Tim sighs.

Tim shook his head. "Dude, I said it's fine." He turns back to Martin. "I'm more peeved about the hair than I am about the scars, and I still haven't agreed to grow it out."

Not Tim huffs.

Martin chuckles. "The two colors look good together, and if you don't grow it out, what else am I supposed to grab?"

Tim swallows, and Elias sees him in the mirror, and he figured it out that this not Tim was in control.

"Oh, don't tease the man. He doesn't understand the fun a simple act can do. Let alone one with those..." Not Tim stops staring at Martin's hand. "When?"

Martin huffs. "Gunpowder, it's fine. You know how you can't hide what the good doctor does to you. I'm fine. I just feel a bit stiff and uncomfortable, but it will pass."

Not Tim or Gunpowder, ridiculous name if you asked Elias. He smiles softly.

"Fuck the waiting, from what I've seen its going to be brutal and he shouldn't be alone..." Tim was speaking out loud now. "He shouldn't have to go through this by him....self... ah, you ass."

Martin raised his brow with a soft smile. "I appreciate the offer, Tim, but you're not exactly desensitized enough for my liking."

Tim huffs. "Then Gunpowder will watch and be out. You don't deserve to be alone through this. I know you have an issue with that, I uh well, Gunpowder knows, and I saw the memory."

"Fine, if you insist." Martin paused, and Elias shivers with that look. "I've shared things with Gunpowder in secret. I don't want you to share with anyone." He grabs Tim's shirt. "Understand?"

Tim swallows and nods.

Martin smiles again as his features soften. "Good, I'll come by your flat tonight."

Tim watches Martin leave with a shudder. Elias doesn't leave yet.

"I warned you about being caught in Blackwood's web. You're not close enough with him to get comfortable." Gunpowder clicks his tongue. "He's not the man you knew, so please don't underestimate him. I would rather not die before Jonny does. We've got a bet going on."

Tim swallows and slides the dark sunglasses back on, and Elias is shocked to see his vision didn't change in the slightest. "He's still a good person."

"That's... well, none of us are good." Gunpowder responds dryly. "It comes with the territory."

Tim didn't like that answer, but he remained quiet as Elias came back to himself. He had a lot to think about.

......

"At least you know how to tell a story." Jonny responds with a bored tone. "These statements still suck, I still suggest we burn the entire place down."

Jon scowls. "No." He stretches and pulls out the used tape. "Can you think of anything that doesn't involve violence.... or sex." He gives a glare.

"Now you're just plain boring." Jonny raised his brow. "Being serious all the time must be fucking exhausting."

Jon sputters. "Just because I'm not some guy who thinks he's immortal and some sex pest doesn't mean anything."

"I don't care what you think of me." Jonny stares directly at Jon. "We are stuck together for the rest of time, and whatever comes after."

Jon scowls. "I won't devolve to be on your level."

Jonny rolls his eyes. "I don't care."

Jon huffs and leaves his office.

"Jon, you ok?" Sasha smiles softly.

Jon stops and sighs. "I'm fine, just getting used to an unfortunate roommate."

"That's one way to call it." Tim mutters.

"You two should try getting along." Sasha hums. "You'll be stuck together forever, I guess. I think it would suck if you two were stuck together fighting for all of that."

Jon scowls. "Oh, he's a right ass only cares about violence and sex. He's nothing but a pest, and I abhor the fact that I have to share my own body with him."

"Oh piss off." Jonny huffs.

Gunpowder sighs. "His attitude comes with his age. He is the oldest of us besides the doctor, but we don't know about her, though, really." He kicks his feet up. "Jonny, I know you're listening. You should be cautious he's going to see memories that you've forgotten. Funny how the mind works even if we forget they still exist in there, just waiting for a trigger to pull them free."

Jon expected Jonny to kick him out and take control, but he felt fear grip his heart that no longer beat. He swallows the dread that wasn't his and doesn't look at Jonny. "I will keep that in mind for when I sleep."

The conversation dies as Jon leaves as the day has ended, and he doesn't want to linger.

.......

The rusty hinges creaked on the old shack the teen called a home. He made sure he tipped off his shoes before entering, and he saw his father passed out in a drunken stupor. He carefully made his way to the small kitchen connected to the living room. If you would call it, that and stumbled upon a note.

"Jonny boy, I've left to clean up after your father. He pissed off some old doctor at the edge of town. I've left old Bessie for you to make sure she's in better condition when I get back, boy. Now, if I don't come back, I know you won't end up like your father. You're too smart for that. Use your ears to find a target to shoot. We both know your eyes aren't the best use that good hearing of yours. Don't file your horns too short boy they grow for a reason, and I love you forever and always."

Wrapped in leather by the note was a familair old looking revolver, the name Bessie was carved crudely into the handle. The weight would become familair in the teen's hands. He took the note scowled at his father and then headed off to hunt for dinner since that lazy piece of shit won't do anything but gamble.

Jon woke up with a start. He could feel a rush of emotions that weren't his. "I..."

"Don't say a fucking word." Jonny scowls. "Don't go telling nobody about that."

Jon nodded he paused, squinting at the clock that glowed, showing it was 3am. He sighs. "I don't remember my mother, or my father, with died at different times, but I was too young to remember them. My grandmother raised me, bitter she had to raise another child. Never told me that directly, however."

Jonny braces himself and grits his teeth. "I don't remember what my mom looks like either."

"Then we have that in common. Maybe the next dream will be my memory, and you can pick apart that." Jon sighs and curls under his blanket.

Jonny nods. "Just go back to sleep."

......

Martin grits his teeth and groans in pure agony. He could barely register the hand going through his red curls. His legs hurt, and he couldn't move them. His skin felt like it was on fire, and he didn't particularly like burning to death. He was stripped down to his birthday suit, and it didn't help with the fact that he was in pure agony.

Gunpowder continues to run his hands through Martin's hair. "It's alright, you're ok. It will be over soon."

"Just fucking kill me." Martin groans.

"We both know that won't help." Gunpowder sighs. "Would you like to hear my story?"

Martin takes a deep breath. "Please distract me."

Gunpowder nods and begins to narrate his origins.

....

An obnoxious alarm pulled Tim from sleep on the floor. He was laying in something wet and the smell of iron... no blood filled his nose, which caused him to panic and flail completely awake. His eyes lock onto a large spider, half then blood, then flesh and bone. Gunpowder takes over before he can throw up.

"Yikes, I thought the shared emotions wouldn't be this strong. Man, you are super depressed." Gunpowder gets up, smearing the blood off from his body. "You're going to need a stronger stomach." He looked over Martin, who was out cold. "See, he's breathing.... please stop screaming. " he covers his mouth, feeling his stomach sour from the sheer fear and disgust from Tim. He swallows the bile rising in his throat, turns away from the scene, and heads to the bathroom.

Gunpowder barely makes it to the toilet to empty the contents of his stomach. He continues to dry heave for a moment before turning to face Tim. "Are you done?"

Tim was pale, and he finally caught his breath. He was still radiating fear and disgust, but he was stable enough to talk. "Is he still alive?"

Gunpowder wipes his mouth. "Of course he is. What part of we can't die, don't you understand?" He frowns, pulling back his frustration. "Sorry you can't control how you react yet. I didn't realize how much I would share when we feel strong emotions." He sits on his knees and sighs. "I'll clean up, just try not to get sick again, please."

Tim nods and shudders. "I.... I'm not desensitized to this stuff. I'm sorry."

Gunpowder gets up, feeling the soft twists of sadness and self-doubt. "Tim, it's not a bad thing, means you're still human. Don't be too hard on yourself." He pulls out some cleaning supplies from the bathroom cabinet. "Tell me about Danny."

Tim frowns and nods slightly. "He was my younger brother...."

.....

Martin wakes up to someone touching his hand. He furrows his brow, pulling his hand back, and skitters up to be his full height, staring down at Tim. He hissed and then blushed, finally realizing that Tim was, in fact, there, and he wasn't a threat. He covers his face and groans, playing out his legs to be shorter. "I didn't mean to hiss at you."

Tim looked over to Gunpowder giggling, and he felt a laugh bubble in his own throat, and wow, no wonder he got frustrated. He didn't exactly know how he felt about feeling someone else's emotions. He gave a soft smile and reached out again to hold Martin's hand. "Your hands are really like a cat's paw."

Martin smiles and lets Tim take his hand. "Spiders have padded limbs and toe beans if you actually look at them."

"That's actually really cute." Tim blushes slightly. "Oh shit how are we going to get to work?"

Martin shrugs. "Might as well scare Elias first."

"Really?" Tim snickers. "What is he scared of spiders?"

"No, he's scared of what they represent." Martin hums. "We're going to be late, and I need a shirt."

"Right, you brought a spare one, right?" Tim paused and rushed over to a bag Martin brought. "Also, you're going to have to talk to my neighbors because of all the stuff we threw out, and they probably think I'm a serial killer."

Martin snickers. "I think I'll scare them into silence."

"Man, I've seen too much of Gunpowder, and Jonny and you having fun together to remember that I'm supposed to be scared of you because you're a spider centaur." Tim tosses over a sweater.

"I suppose I don't find myself scary either. Honestly, the fear left pretty quickly once I realized how my new body worked." Martin smiles. "This will be obnoxious getting to work. I don't mind walking. You live much closer than I do, but being stared at isn't ideal."

"Maybe a blanket?" Tim stops and covers his face. "That wouldn't work."

Martin chuckles. "I appreciate the concept idea, but Jonny tried that once."

"Wait really?" Tim raised his brow.

"Yeah, ended up in a bar fight." Martin snickers. "Although it was fucking hilarious."

"Huh." Tim crosses his arms. "Just bite the bullet and head out?"

"After you." Martin hums and smiles.

.....

Elias blinks, and the scene doesn't change. What confounds him the most is the fact that this has nothing to do with the web. The Beholder is taking it all in, and he can feel actual confusion from his patron. He clears his throat and approaches. "Martin, I don't believe it's near Halloween unless you've got an event planned."

Martin hums impressed at how well Elias can mask his true emotions. "I don't think a costume would be strong enough to carry someone on." He motions to Tim who waves.

"He insisted that he carry me." Tim smiles.

"Well, yes, but I hope I don't cause you too much trouble." Martin smiles. "Why the surprise this is your institute, and shouldn't you expect the supernatural?" He has a smirk as he walks past a stunned Elias.

Elias doesn't have a response to that. His mind was completely blank, and the Beholder was eerily silent.

Tim was snickering. "Double boss man seems quite stunned."

Martin chuckles. "Oh, this is quite fun."

That thought came crashing down with a terrified scream and wide eyed stares.

Martin felt exposed, and he couldn't remember the last time he felt bad about his body until this moment. He knows Tim can feel him tense. "I..."

"Jon, seriously?" Tim huffs sliding off Martin's back. "It's not his fault he's like this."

Jon was trying really hard to keep his panic and fear in check, and he felt a growing bubble of white hot rage directed at him and feeling it. The feedback loop was really confusing. "I uh..." He was forced out by Jonny.

"Fuck off." Jonny took back control his tail was lashing and puffed out at the end. His ears were pinned back, and the hair on top of his head was puffing out. "Seriously fuck off I don't judge you for who you carnally desire. Blackwood is mine, and you have absolutely no right." He goes o continue his rant, but a tooth falls out. He blinks as confusion fills his features, and he crouched down to poke it.

Martin opens his mouth and closes it. "You know I remember now what he was missing, the teeth."

"The teeth." Gunpowder repeats with a nod.

"I'm sorry Martin, are you ok?" Sasha vaguely motions.

"I mean, it was painful, but it doesn't hurt now." Martin pauses. "I have to figure out how to use my desk."

Tim is getting back control, pulling his eyes away from Jonny, now messing with his teeth. "I mean, you can get rid of the chair and move from there."

"That could work." Martin hums and looks over to Jonny. "Are you ok?"

Jonny holds a handful of his teeth. "What do you think?" He scowls. "Well fuck you too. No, I'm mad at you. That's a stupid fucking question, I don't care about spiders let alone being scared of them."

Three pairs of eyes watch the one sided argument.

.....

A fog seemed to roll into Elias's office out of nowhere, and a tall, muscular man in a captains attire steps inside. The man stops and stares at Elias, who had his head down on his desk. "Elias?"

Elias groans. "Peter."

"Shouldn't you be enjoying your new archivist floundering?" Peter raised his brow.

Elias takes a breath. "Peter, I have called every avatar I ever had contact with to ask if they knew what was going on with my archivist and his assistants. I have no leads, and the Beholder is clueless."

Peter opens his mouth then shuts it with a click.

"Do you have any idea what's happening? Because I don't have a singlaur clue." Elias throws his hands up. "One of the archivist assistants is a half spider centaur, and he's not even aligned with the web. The other has mechanical eyes that still work as eyes. That technology doesn't exist, and the Flesh doesn't bother with machines."

Peter reaches out. "I think you need a vacation."

Elias slams his hands against his desk. "Peter, I'm serious!" He gets up and grabs Peter's arm, and drags him to the archives.

Peter stared stunned.

#the mechanisms #the magnus archives #jonny d'ville #jonathan sims #sasha james #tim stoker #gunpowder tim #martin blackwood

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missathlete31 · 1 month

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Dead on Your Feet Chapter 13

Finally a little progress for this story!

Okay so I know it's only 1,200 words but this is the first I've written in months and it makes me happy that I got something out! I can't tell you how much I've been hating everything of mine for the better part of a year. All my confidence was gone because I just compared myself to all the other brilliant writers on here and wondered what the hell was the point. I can't say I completely recovered from that spiral but I'm trying and while I'll never say I'm in the leagues of the other big names in this fandom, I do try and that's all I can ask for.

Here's hoping I can keep the momentum and finish this story before next year.

Ignoring the perfectly good wheelchair that was waiting for them on the carrier’s deck seemed like an excellent idea when Maverick first shouldered all of Bradley’s weight to guide him to medical, but half way to their destination, Pete is seriously kicking himself for once again refusing to do things the easy way. He’s tired, wet, and feeling his age with every laborious step. The physical demands of the task pales in comparison to the emotions; these past few weeks, hell these past few hours, putting him through more than he ever thought possible.

But Pete Mitchell is also stubborn as a mule when he wants to be so the older man just grits his teeth and tugs Rooster along a little quicker.

The pilot in his arms is staggering as well though, whimpers increasing with each added step as they traverse the narrow corridors of the ship. Navy personnel flank them from doorways and stairwells, watching in silence as they pass, some with looks of pride, others just plain shocked. Usually there is a sort of tribalism on a ship that goes well beyond rank; sailors turn their noses on pilots, pilots strut around like cocky little shits, and everyone stays with their own, but that's not the case today- today everyone is on the same team.

His team has done the impossible and the rest of the ship is giving them their due.

It reminds Maverick of a different mission many years ago, one with a far happier ending.

Medical, (besides being farther than Pete remembers as he lugs Bradley along), is in various stages of its own chaos by the time the two men get inside. There is a large commotion on one side of the wing, a scramble to get Seresin stabilized drawing all staff's attention by the yells for blood, plasma, and assistance. Bodies moving give peeks to the pandemonium in front of them and like a train wreck, Maverick finds he can’t look away. A nurse shifts and there is Jake’s arm, listing helplessly off the gurney, what looks like bite marks marring the skin. A doctor turns and darkened blonde hair is sticking out in dishevelment from one side of the bed, something the Captain knows by now would infuriate the vain pilot lying there. He spots Sosa, still taking charge and ordering the others about, his hand gesturing to the bloodied bag of fluids still draining from Hangman’s chest. Vitals loaded up to the monitors start screeching and the whirlwind of motion crescendos, barks of orders vacuuming the air in the room.

Pete’s body reacts faster than even he is prepared for and he tries to manhandle his godson away from what is about to happen, except Rooster’s good leg has become an anchor, planted firmly to the ground and stopping them from moving any further as the Lieutenant stares wide-eyed at the frenzy.

“Bradley” Maverick urges, having enough sense to know that they shouldn’t watch, that they can’t. Memories of the helicopter will forever haunt the older man, he doesn’t need to wait and see another traumatizing medical procedure happen in real time. “Let's get you settled-"

"I need to stay with him, I promised."

"Hangman's in the best hands" Pete explains, "the very best. There's nothing more you can do for him now, besides get yourself looked over so you can be there for him after. That's what Jake will need."

It's bullshit really. What Jake needs is even more blood and an operating table from what Maverick can make out in the incessant calls from the doctors and nurses, but that isn't going to get Bradley to sit on a hospital bed and Maverick's arms can only hold him up for so much longer so he makes do.

He shuffles them to the furthest cot away and then yanks the curtain across as though the thin fabric will protect them from the horrific sounds across the room, a proverbial shelter from the shit storm that is Jake Seresin being given paddles to resuscitate him for the second time.

Maverick holds back the urge to puke as the memories of the helicopter ride come back again and instead works to manhandle his godson to lie back on the bed. Bradley is still resisting though, somehow continuing to torture himself by fighting to get back to his wingman and watch his possible demise. That is until a particularly ominous sounding thud rings out, and the bedlam ceases. In that silence, Rooster seems to stop too, giving his captain the chance to move him towards the bed and all put pushing him down onto it.

Bradley lands on his butt on the mattress and stays planted, a blessing for Maverick who’s own body sags in relief when he moves to take one of the chairs at the bed’s side. Activity has started up again behind their wall of curtain, not quite as loud or insistent as before and Pete surmises that the odds are 50/50 on whether this is a good or bad thing.

Bradley however seems to have taken the pessimistic side. “Is this what it was like” he begins, eyes unfocused and staring at the tile floor in front of him, voice detached in a way that make’s Pete’s still half frozen body feel even colder, “when you held my dad that day? Knowing he was dead and still holding on? Having them wretch him from your grip to now wait for them to come in and tell you it was all for nothing?”

Maverick shudders at the brutal question lobbed his way, the vivid recollections thrown with it. He thinks of the bathroom mirror after they finally forced him out of medical after declaring Goose dead but Pete fine, of a feeling of loathing he still hasn’t completely shaken 30+ years later. If his lifetime of service to his country and fellow man earned him any sort of favor, Pete can only pray that he can use it to prevent Bradley from having to go through what he did. It’s a guilt that will haunt forever. “Hangman isn’t-“ he bites his bottom lip, and forces himself to look at Rooster, even if the other man is still looking away, “Hangman isn’t dead” he manages back weakly, not able to convince himself so he knows he isn't convincing Bradley. Every time he closes his eyes the older man sees the blond lifeless body on the helicopter floor, watches the compressions on the kid's chest, the fight to get him back.

Was it all for nothing?

"Yet" Rooster's voice shakes Pete from his mind, despite only being a whisper. The young pilot's gaze finally meets Maverick’s own, "Hangman isn't dead" the Lieutenant parrots back solemnly, "yet."

#top gun maverick #pete maverick mitchell #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #top gun #dead on your feet #hey look at me #trying to write again

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kurikive · 2 years

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please! — 63. hospitals... ugh.

jungwon and hanni were sitting in y/n's hospital room, watching over her until she woke up. the doctors said she would be fine after a few more days of rest. still, hanni was worrying over the unthinkable worst scenarios.

what if she never wakes up? i should have dated her sooner, now we won't have any time left together. god, i'm such a dumbass.

jungwon was busy texting his brother, who's a lawyer, about the situation with haruto and filing a restraining order. fortunately, taeyoung had recorded the whole situation on his phone as soon as he saw danger.

it was a few hours after the fight, and y/n was finally regaining consciousness. the first thing she noticed was the unfamiliar scenery and odd atmospheric sounds. the second thing she noticed was the strange position she woke up in and the weird clothes she wore.

the third thing she noticed, now with her eyes almost fully open and a bit of a grasp on the situation, was hanni.

don't tell me it was all a dream.

"what the fuck?" was the first words she said after hours of unconsciousness, immediately grabbing the attention of the two in front of her.

"y/n? are you awake?" jungwon stood up from his seat to walk up to the bed.

"dude..." y/n blinked a couple times, "what the fuck happened?"

"you idiot!" hanni exclaimed, "i thought you were gonna die!" jungwon looked her way, she had her hands covering her mouth in shock.

"okay, don't be dramatic, hanni. the doctors said she'd wake up soon."

"is no one gonna tell me what happened?"

"you got knocked out." jungwon explained.

"like, drunk? again? wait, why are you fine?" y/n raised an eyebrow in confusion. "no, dumbass. haruto punched you in the face and you went down." y/n gasped.

"that bitch..." she remembered what had last happened, rage returning at the thought of the boy's face. but she also recalled what happened before, turning her eyes from the ceiling to hanni.

"wait," she started, "so you're still my girlfriend?"

"yes, stupid. we had just become official and you get in a fist fight in day one." y/n smiled at the thought, "well, did i look cool?"

"no."

"you wanna see the video?" jungwon enthusiastically took his phone back out. "oh my god, yes. show me."

the boy started playing the recording taeyoung sent on the groupchat, also containing other moments y/n missed out on while she was unconscious, like hanni running to her aid, yeonjun actually beating the shit out of haruto, jungwon cursing out his ass, and the very satisfying painful groans of haruto.

"damn, y'all fucked him up." y/n said, impressed at the teamwork.

"it was your revenge." jungwon smiled empathetically.

y/n shrugged dissatisfied, "well, yeah, but i kinda wanted to do it myself."

"i don't know why you thought you could take him. he's like ten feet tall." hanni said.

y/n shifted into a more comfortable position, sitting up a bit taller. jungwon supported her back, just in case. "i guess i just really wanted to punch him at the moment. i was so mad."

jungwon shook his head while scoffing, "you really didn't have to, i already had the evidence to file a restraining order." y/n gasped, "you're really gonna do it?" she said in excitement.

jungwon nodded, "so you're basically here for no reason. well, the reason being you're stupid." the other laughed.

"where are the others?" she asked.

"uh... well, yeonjun is in another room getting his wounds treated, some of the others went home, others are waiting outside and dana went to tell her uncle at the restaurant what happened." the boy explained and the girl sighed.

"well, at least we got rid of him!"

silence dominated the room for a few seconds until jungwon spoke, "you look so fucking stupid right now." in between laughs he opened his phone's camera to take pictures of the girl on the bed.

laughing as well, y/n started to pose while sitting. hanni smiled in adoration, or was it amusement? who knows, all that matters is that she cried a bit. although no one really noticed until a sniff was heard.

y/n turned her head to the other girl, "are you cryin-" she didn't get to finish her sentence before hanni walked up to her and hugged her. jungwon took one last photo.

"you're so stupid." she said in between little soft sobs. "don't do that ever again."

y/n stay still while she thought, "but what if you get robbed?" she asked genuinely, making hanni hug her harder while she laughed. "shut up." only then y/n hugged her back and laughed with her.

the shorter pulled away and y/n looked back to jungwon, "so when do i get out?"

all of y/n's friends sat in her room, the doctors said she would be fine in a day or two. "and then jungwon started kicking him too!" said yeonjun, recalling the events of the night before.

y/n looked at the boy beside her, "i'm so proud of you. you learned from the best, me." she pat his back while staring at him with pride.

jungwon looked back and frowned, staring her up and down, "you were the one that got beat up, asshole." he scoffed, "you're literally in the hospital right now."

"shut the fuck up." y/n stopped and glared at him. "anyways, when i get out of here the party better still be a plan." she said.

dana who was standing by the door frame smirked. "you thought i'd let it not happen?"

masterlist | next

— y/n is most definitely not immune to pretty girls, and hanni is very pretty. she begs for one chance, but when it's given, what will she do?

## taglist ! @lcv3lies @yourwife @haerpins @rosielover69 @luvkait @lizseos @gojosrug @xuimhao @captivq @yumtooki @ahnneyong @seeju @sserajeans @phamminji @llluvbluy @sserafimez @misumiausworld @lostamoeba @archerheejin @skisk1 @giginings @falling-intoo-deep @jenaissantesworld @txtbrainrot @luvrsxt ...

#newjeans x reader #hanni x reader #newjeans smau #hanni smau #newjeans #p!phn

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yesimwriting · 1 year

Text

Resurgence

A/n this is a product of me going with the flow to get rid of some writer’s block, i originally wanted to write a jason x reader story but this became much more background heavy and turned into something else so i’m thinking maybe mini series! some found family vibes, idk though

Summary: After an impulsive attempt to run away with your best friend ends in an accident that alters everything about you (literally--like on a genetic level), you’re pushed into the Titan’s world.

----

Earlier.

I know it’s too early for total cynicism, but the note Jenna left out on the counter doesn’t allow for much else. A passive aggressive, vague scribbling reminding me that just because we went to bed and woke up doesn’t mean the fight is over. The note is taped to a box of cereal because she’s pointedly reminding me that there’s a reason she’s not here making me breakfast. Whatever.

I pour myself a bowl before pulling open the door to the fridge. The nearly empty carton of milk is expired. Perfect.

My phone starts to buzz before I can get rid of souring milk. Violet’s contact name and picture takes up my screen as I pick up the device. “Hey.”

“Do you remember yesterday? When you were talking about just getting in a car and driving anywhere and everywhere and never looking back?”

Intense way to start a before 8AM call. “Weird conversation starter... but yeah.”

She sighs, the sound a puff of air into my receiver. “I took my step dad’s car, I’m about to pass your house, do you want to come with me?”

Oh my god. She’s lost it. “Are you insane?”

“Do you want to get out of here or not?”

My eyes fall to the skirt of my uniform and then to Jenna’s note. Memories of last night’s argument hit with no warning. “Let’s go.”

----

Present.

There’s light and then I’m plunged back into darkness. A nothingness that I can feel. A nothingness that aches. Get up. Get up. Get--

My body won’t move. I latch onto the only thing I can, the faint prickle of light from behind my eyes. It’s kind of...irritating. And I can hear a strange, flat ringing. I screw my eyes shut tighter, a touch of mobility returning. Slowly, enough of it comes back for me to open my eyes.

Okay. I’m staring at a roof. Not at the sky...and not at Violet’s...The thought brings me back to the pain in my body. Everything is sore, but I’m resting somewhere that should be comfortable. A bed, not the side of the road...not the last place I remember.

Wait--where am I? I sit up fully, the buzzing noise turns into a sporadic mess of beeping. Each bump of noise feels like it’s striking me in the head. My hands stretch forward to rub my face. The movement feels like mush and restrained.

My eyes drop to my arms. There’s a tube sticking out of my arm, an object I vaguely register as an IV. A few other wires are sticking out from me, including a tube in my nose. Okay--this is getting weird. I sit up a little more before twisting my fingers around the oxygen tube.

“I wouldn’t--” My body presses as far back into the cot as I physically can before snapping my head forward. There’s a guy standing next to one of two chairs lined neatly against a wall. “I don’t think you should touch that.”

Has he been here the entire time? And--and what is ‘the entire time’? How long has it been since Violet?

The question claws its way all the way to the tip of my tongue. I clamp my mouth shut to keep from asking it because I already know. After what I saw...what I felt...I know the answer. No one gets put back together after going through what happened to Violet and the last thing I want right now is to get into it with a stranger who may or may not be a danger. Speaking it into the world feels too real, too solid a vulnerability.

All I can do is stare at the stranger. His neat brown hair and put together posture seem mature enough that he could be a doctor if I’m going with the assumption that this is a hospital, but that doesn’t feel right. He’s not wearing a lab coat and his clothing feels a little too casual. He also feels a little too young to have finished med school.

“...You’re not a doctor.”

He takes my analysis well, tilting his chin down quickly in some sort of nod. “No.” The stranger takes a small step forward, more of a shift in my direction. “What do--do you know where you are? Do you remember anything?”

The question is a jab to already bruised ribs. Do I remember? Remember the car that came out of nowhere, that started chasing us at the gas station; the box Jenna pulled out from under the seats; the electric feeling of that liquid in my veins; waking up again and seeing the wreckage, seeing Jenna...

I swallow it all down, eyeing the stranger a little more cautiously. The urgency is weird. There are only so many reasons for a stranger to be in a hospital room with me. There’s a small chance he’s just some kind of good samaritan, who found me bleeding out somehow. He could also be with the people from the car or--or something else. Something bigger.

“Why do you care?” The words feel too raspy to have any real bite. “Actually, a better question--who even are you?”

His eyebrows draw together briefly, almost reluctantly. “I’m Dick Grayson.”

It’s a patient introduction, not exactly soft but politer than I expected. I don’t know what the appropriate reaction is, so I just nod.

Something about the way he’s lingering tells me that this strange interaction hasn’t been enough for him. Dick is going to push his questions or ask something else or maybe even justify his presence, but before he gets to do any of that, the door is pushed open.

A woman in a lab coat doesn’t even throw a curious glance in Dick’s direction. Does that indicate that he’s been in here for awhile? Or--or did he tell the hospital we’re in that I know him somehow?

“Okay,” the doctor hums, extending the last syllable as she glances at a clipboard, “You’re looking a lot better after the scare you gave us.” Her eyes shift away from my chart and towards the heart monitor that’s now beeping steadily, “Hm. That last alert must have been some kind of system error.”

Whatever that means. “Uh--scare?”

She presses her lips together, briefly turning her attention back to the clip board. “You were rushed into treatment, your body has experienced significant trauma.” The doctor pauses to take a breath, “Maybe this would be better discussed later. With a parent.”

“What happened after...the accident?” She still seems unsure. “Please.”

The doctor lets out a hesitant sigh, “During your treatment, your heart briefly stopped.” I--I flatlined? “But after you restabilized, there were no further complications and you seem well on your way to making a full recovery.” I nod blankly. “Is there anyone we should call for you?” Ugh. Jenna’s so going to kill me. “Could you use a minute first?”

“A minute sounds like a good idea.” Whoever Dick Grayson is, he has no issue over inserting himself.

The doctor nods, being suspiciously unsuspicious of the random guy, “Alright, I’ll be back.”

She leaves; Dick doesn’t. I turn my arm over, staring at the IV in my arm. Maybe if I’m quiet enough, he’ll leave.

“You remember the accident.” Guess the assumption that he’d just leave was an optimistic one.

My fingers twist the thin fabric of the hospital blanket. “Did you find me or something?”

Dick pauses, thinking about the best way to answer what must feel like a fragile question. “Or something.” Weird. “That car you were in, it wasn’t yours.”

Great, now I’m not only going to have to tell Violet’s parents what happened to her, I’m also going to get arrested for stealing a car. “No.”

The confession has no affect on him. He seemed sure enough in his assumption, so maybe he already decided my answer wouldn’t matter. “Did you know what was in the car?”

There’s a generalness in the question that I could use to my advantage--should use to my advantage--but the memories resurfacing make all rational thought impossible. The stuff in the car is what got me here.

“No,” the answer is more honest than I should be, “Not until after.”

His eyebrows pinch together, a hint of something less stoic bleeding into his expression. Maybe a touch of empathy. It’s not overbearing or much, but the shift is enough to make me feel exposed. Too exposed for some guy who I met through a hospital room and has only given me his name. A part of me wishes my phone was on me--a google search could potentially help.

I flatten my hands on my lap. “How do you know about the car?” The last people that knew about the weird fluid rammed themselves into a car until it flipped off a bridge. He could easily be working for them--some nice enough looking guy to make sure I woke up without freaking out and alerting anyone.

“I’m not with them.” Dick provides his defense stiffly, like he’s aware of its lack of strength.

The call button is only inches away from my hand. “Right, ‘cause the people that used a car to push my car off a bridge are for sure above lying.”

He takes another mini-step forward. “I’m actually trying to help you.”

Another thing he can’t prove. “Then tell me how you know about the blue stuff.”

Dick tries to suppress a sigh. I can’t tell if he was working under the assumption that I’d just wake up and happily go along with whatever. “...Because I’ve been looking for it.”

“That’s not sketchy at all.”

Something else tugs at his expression that’s different than before. Not pity or an apology, more like a general acknowledgement of how weird he’s being. “I saw the accident.” The words hit harder than they should considering the lack of meanness. “One of the vials was missing.”

Right before the accident, I opened the small box to see what Violet was talking about. I took one of the vials out to examine it and then the car flipped. “So you have the other vials?”

My question isn’t appreciated. “Do you know what happened after the accident?” The first few minutes, I was still awake. Conscious enough to crawl my way out of the car, but everything after that is stuck behind a dark wall. He takes my silence as an answer. “The battery was completely fried, but the engine was still running.”

That’s a fun fact? “Uh--cool?” I never did ask him anything that would reveal how mentally well he is. “I must have missed that while trying to crawl out of it before it exploded or something.”

“I didn’t--” The corner of my mouth turns up a little at his slight unease. I wasn’t sarcastic with the intention of being mean or making the stranger uncomfortable, but I’m not exactly mad it happened. He seems to catch onto the fact that I’m only giving him a hard time because I can. “Cars need batteries to run.”

Dick’s eyes stay trained on me after those words, analyzing my reaction to them. My first instinct is to dismiss it. I can’t imagine that car ever being fixed and car batteries are replaceable. That’s the least of its issues. Then it hits me--how was the engine running? “Oh.” He’s still watching. Why? “...What does a car have to do with me?”

“The people that are looking for the vials are dangerous.” I lift an arm to gesture to my IV, a quiet way of saying no shit. “They’re going to come back.”

My stomach knots at that. It’s not like I necessarily thought this was all over, but I hadn’t considered what could happen next. “I don’t have the missing vial.” As far as I know, he’s no one important, but the urge to get him to believe me hits hard and fast. “It probably fell and--and shattered or something.”

His expression doesn’t give me anything to work with. “If you come with me, I can test if it had any effects on you--”

Okay, I know a kidnapping scam when I see one. “You’re kidding, right?” He keeps his blankness, his posture somehow straighter than it was before. Dick’s radiating a sense of authority that’s definitely practiced. “Are you asking or telling?”

“I’m trying to help.”

“And if I don’t want your help because there’s no way some weird, lab goo did anything to me?” My hand shifts forward, reaching for the remote with the help button. “You seem nice enough, thank you for not leaving me to die in some underpass, but I think it’s time you go. Good luck with your goo situation.”

Dick’s eyes drop down to my hand. In about two steps, he’s at the side of my bed. “Don’t.”

I’ve never wanted to press a button more in my life. My thumb finds the trigger, but before I can press it, a strong grip secures itself around my wrist. He moved so quickly, I’m still registering the fact that he went to grab me. Who is this guy?

Before I can warn him that I have nothing against screaming bloody murder until someone separates us, I’m snapped out of my thoughts. My body feels disconnected, like it’s floating.

A light flickers behind my eyes, glazing over my vision. Some strong, hard to name thing pulls at my stomach, an even stronger feeling settles in my chest. That one is easier to listen to as something flickers to the front of my mind like a hazy memory or unfinished dream. I can’t tell what it is, but my body knows to trust it. To believe it. Do I know him?

The feeling is so close to familiarity that it feels like a physical hit. My fingers go slack, and the remote slips from my grasp and onto the cot. He lets go and moves back into place immediately.

I know that deciding whether or not to let some random guy run some sort of test on me cannot be a choice so influenced by a vibe. But what I saw has drained most of the fight from me. Maybe it’s a side effect of the car accident. Like some type of internal bleeding?

“Sorry, I don’t--”

“You want to run some tests on me or--?” It’s more of a summary for me than a direct question for him. Ugh. Maybe if he had asked for anything less weird...then again, I can’t think of anything that wouldn’t be weird from a stranger that’s just in my hospital room. “How do you even know about this?”

He hesitates, “Long story.”

Helpful. I guess it is kind of comforting that he’s this bad at getting me to want to come with him, because no respectable kidnapper would be this openly weird. And that instinct is still at the back of my mind, urging me to trust him. “You get that you’re super sketchy, right?” If this is some kind of trap, I deserve what I’m going to get. “If I agree, can I borrow a phone to call someone?” Grabbing my phone wasn’t a priority when I crawled out of that car, and I really doubt it somehow miraculously made its way to the hospital with me.

“Parents?”

Jenna’s so gonna kill me. “Sort of.” I’m not in the mood to get into my living situation, so I just stare at my sheets before he can ask. “What? You’re the only that gets to be cryptic?” The attempt at humor surprises me. He’s still a stranger, but my head isn’t accepting that.

“You can call them.”

“Then...okay.” I’m going to end up on dateline and my episode will be so boring some girl with a true crime podcast will skip my episode. “But if you’re some kidnapping serial killer, I will fuck you up.”

The corner of his mouth turns up a bit, like something about what I said is amusing him. Kind of rude, considering that I’m being completely serious, but I can’t decide if that makes me feel better or worse about my decision.

----

This might be one of the nicest buildings I’ve ever stepped foot in. It’s not like the building Dick’s led me to is overly extravagant, but it’s definitely structured in a way that feels well off. Like it’s owned by the kind of rich person that’s so wealthy they don’t feel the need to prove it.

“Dude,” I give myself a second to take in the space, “If you had led with how nice this place is, we could’ve skipped the whole hospital argument.”

My presence here feels a little bit like a smudge. It’s not like I’m always put together or feel like I should be overly dressed up, but the hospital gave me back what I was wearing during the accident. Because Violet decided to runaway before school, I left the house in my uniform. It’s not the cruelest thing I’ve seen a Catholic school put someone in, but the plaid skirt and white button down don’t do much for my confidence, and they didn’t exactly hold up in the chaos of the accident...neither did my hair or face.

“Really?”

I shrug, still looking around the space, “It definitely wouldn’t have hurt.” Tugging on the dirt smeared edge of my sleeve, I turn back to him. “I’m Y/n, by the way.” It’s not information I really wanted to give, but I’m already here. It’s not like he can double kidnap me if that’s what this is, and knowing who I am won’t change anything. If he tries to use me for ransom all he’ll be able to get from Jenna is an IOU. “Felt weird that I hadn’t said that yet.”

The car accident must have seriously damaged my self preservation abilities, or maybe it’s the fact that anything I can latch onto is a distraction from Violet, because I step further into the room, fully entering the space and seeing the full living room.

Two heads on the side of the couch that I couldn’t see before snap towards me so quickly it almost feels like they moved in sync. The one farthest from me has a dark purple bob and the boy next to her has green hair. The stare off is a little weird and refuels my doubts. They both look a lot closer to my age than Dick’s.

The girl breaks the silence, “Who’s this?”

I’m not sure if that’s a question directed at me or Dick, but I answer anyway, “I--”

“You wanted to call someone, right?” Dick steps up so that he’s next to me, handing me an unlocked cell phone.

Weird place to jump in, but at least he isn’t being cagey and taking away my ability to contact someone. “Yeah.” I take the phone, already dreading this conversation. “Could I get some water?”

“Kitchen’s that way, take whatever you want.” Looking through a rich guy’s fridge might take the sting out of being berated by Jenna.

I start walking in the direction he gestured towards. “Cool.”

After finding the kitchen, I dial Jenna’s number. She answers on the second ring. “Okay--don’t freak out.”

“Where the fuck are you? Were you kidnapped?”

“One, that sounds like freaking out. Two, why are you always assuming I’ve been kidnapped?”

She sighs before getting my name out in a way that tells me to not mess with her right now. That makes me cut to the chase, summarizing majority of what happened and glossing over what I can’t get out or explain. She gets extra mad when I tell her that I followed a stranger home just because they said they found me. Jenna rightfully yells at me, and then finally asks me where I am.

The realization that I have no clue makes me feel a lot worse about the situation. I paid extra attention on the drive here, but no part of this felt like any part of Gotham I’ve ever been to. Maybe it’s because it’s a richer area?

I duck my head back into the living room, “Hey, Dick?” He looks up from the two in the living room, who I guess he was giving some context to. “I’m on the phone and someone wants to pick me up. Where are--” Jenna cuts me off in that way of hers, reminding me how much I suck at giving directions. “Uh--she wants to talk to you.”

His eyebrows draw together, “Your mom?”

Shrugging, I start walking towards him. “Uh--my Jenna,” I hold the phone out towards him, “That’s like having a mom, just...louder.” He eyes the phone oddly. “You’ll see.” He’ll have to, Jenna gets her way.

Dick takes the phone, instantly catching on to what I meant and stepping away to talk to her. He throws out the part of stolen car, which would have been nice for him to keep to himself. Then he says...San Francisco, which makes no sense to me because Violet and I were nowhere near California. That’s where she wanted to go, but we barely made it out of Gotham before it all happened.

I blink, sitting down on the couch in shock. My head then turns to the boy next to me, “Hi, I’m Y/n.”

After a second, he smiles politely and says, “Gar.”

“Nice to meet you,” a little awkward, but he’s looking at me so politely I can’t help but fall back on normal habits, “Are we not in Gotham?”

He briefly looks confused and then a little apologetic, “No.”

Great, I’m brain damaged. That’s the only logical explanation for how I got to San Francisco without even realizing it. “...Cool.”

The girl sits up a little more, looking over at me, “Are you okay?”

“Uh,” all of my potential answers make me sound insane, “I’ve been better.”

Dick’s conversation with Jenna seems to be getting calmer, which bugs me a little. I can’t explain it, it’s just suspicious that he’s not only this super upstanding guy that helped me get to and from the hospital, he’s also capable of getting Jenna on his side. He ends the call.

Before he can give any kind of update, I’m already up, “How am I not in Gotham?” I don’t give him the chance to answer. “You said you saw the accident, so that means you got me here.”

“No.” I wonder how quickly I could get out of here. My body’s still sore, but pain’s something to worry about later. “I--exaggerated on how much I saw.”

He’s not exactly helping himself, “So you've been lying this entire time.”

“I didn’t want to scare you.”

That sounds like something a kidnapper would be worried about. Panic rises in my chest and the room feels too hot, too charged. The lights briefly waver and that only adds to my stress. “Then how did I get here?”

Dick’s looking at me the same way he did in the hospital. A hesitant sort of empathy. It’s restrained, but it feels so genuine that my stomach twists. If he’s not the one that dragged me here, then that means that--and how much time did I lose?

It feels too naive to believe him just because of a look, but that would explain a lot. If he had seen the accident, he would have had more questions. He probably would have mentioned Violet. “How’d you find me? And--and why’d you say that stuff about the car battery?”

“They had you, and the battery thing was a little different than what I said.” The confirmation is a punch to the gut. How long was I out? What did they do to me? Why did they take me when they had the vials? “Jenna’s flying out first thing tomorrow.” I must look like I’m about to snap, because he’s making a point of keeping his words even and slow. I don’t know how she’s going to fly out considering she maxed out her credit card trying to buy concert tickets. “We can get you something more comfortable to wear and something to eat before we get into anything else.”

He’s just trying to be nice, understanding, but it makes me feel too much like a little kid. Especially since there are two people around my age watching this play out. There’s still a chance this is some kind of trap, but it’s a little too late to decide if I trust him. I give in with a reluctant nod.

----

The shower pressure I just experienced is something that I can’t see myself forgetting. Before I walked into the bathroom the girl, who I learned is named Rachel, brought me something comfortable. Some elastic pajama pants and a black crewneck.

I don’t know how much of it is Rachel being genuine or if Dick told her to hang around a little, but she showed up a little after I got out of the shower and took me to a guest bedroom so I could put away my clothes. She then walked me to the kitchen, awkwardly admitted that they’re overdue for a grocery run before giving me some options.

Rachel ends up making me a grilled cheese. It’s a little awkward letting a stranger do something for me, but it’d feel even weirder casually using an unfamiliar kitchen like I live here.

My hunger felt all consuming until food was put in front of me. I keep thinking of Violet and all the hours I lost. But rationally, I know I should eat something and that it’d be kind of rude not to, so I take small bites of the edge of my sandwich.

I’m still working on the first triangular half when Gar shows up, offering me another polite smile. I force myself to return it even though the day’s starting to catch up with me.

“Uh-hey,” he walks into the kitchen, “I know I introduced myself earlier, but that was...” Gar brushes that train of thought away with a small breath, “Uh--are you feeling better?”

I nod, turning to face him, “The shower helped.” I set my half of the grilled cheese down, “I picked so many twigs out of my hair.” Why would I say that?

“Yeah, you look a little better.” He reaches the counter, tapping his fingers on the counter, “Not that you looked bad before! Just that you look like you’re feeling a little better.”

The correction comes out like a knee-jerk reaction. Like he really thought he might have offended me. “I get it,” I can’t help but smile a little, “And absolutely no worries if you had meant it the other way, I saw myself in the mirror. I definitely looked accurate to my car accident.” I thought mentioning the car accident casually would make it feel breezy and normal, but it just feels sad. “There’s no non-weird way to say that.”

“It’s fine.” Gar’s words come out so assured I almost believe him, “We’ve heard weirder.”

Rachel nods, “A lot weirder.”

I look between the two of them before taking another bite out of my grilled cheese. They’re both looking at me while trying to pretend that they’re doing something else. I guess I know how my 4th grade class guinea pig felt.

A part of me wants to start conversation. Some of it is the awkward feel of silence and some of it is the urge to return their niceness, but I’m also tired and not sure how much of a point there is. Tomorrow, I’ll be back home and likely permanently grounded.

“Do you feel like we’re hovering?” Rachel’s question takes me by surprise. Before I can instinctually tell them that they’re both fine, she continues, “We can give you some space if you want. I know it’s a little overwhelming.”

What is? Showing up here? The accident? It shouldn’t matter considering that I’m leaving tomorrow. “Some quiet might be nice,” I admit, “Just because Dick’s probably going to show up and get me to--” He never did specify what he was going to check out about me. Do they know that’s why I’m here? Also--why are they here? “I don’t even know. Just something I’m not really looking forward to.”

“We get it,” Rachel hums, stepping away from the counter, “We’ll give you a minute.”

The two actually leave, a part of me is surprised at how genuine that was. They didn’t even linger like I might at best steal something and at worse finally snap. I get two minutes of quiet before the sound of footsteps entering the kitchen puts me back into focus mode.

I tilt my head slightly, expecting Rachel or Gar or maybe even Dick. It’s...none of them. The person I don’t know walks straight past me and towards the fridge. They open it, the small light illuminating their skin in a way that makes the sheen of sweat impossible to ignore.

He pulls out a bottle of water, shuts the door, and then looks at me. There’s no hint of surprise as his eyes briefly focus on my face before trailing downwards. Is he-- “Something happen to your face?”

This again. Stupid car accident had to bust my lip and bruise my face. “Uh--” While Rachel and Gar were attentive and purposefully polite, trying to apply regular social standards to an abnormal situation, this guy doesn’t seem to care about that at all. The thought of just blankly stating the car accident thing again, especially to someone this forward, is so unappealing I just blurt out, “Drug deal gone wrong.”

Oh my god, the more I interact with people, the more I realize there has to be something seriously wrong with me. Like brain damage. Like over-40-pro-football player lever of concussed.

Before I can say anything, he tilts his head again, looking me over more openly than before, "Right, because you seem the type.”

I can’t tell if he’s making fun of me or amused. Probably the first one. “The best drug dealers don’t seem like drug dealers.”

“Really?” There’s a level of kind-of-there annoyance that throws me. Like irritated is his natural state and it’s miracle enough that I didn’t make it worse. But the confidence in his voice keeps it from being fully bitter.

“No,” I tap my nails on the counter, “I just didn’t feel like getting into the car accident thing again.”

He’s quiet for a second, “And you thought drug deals would be easier?”

I shrug, feeling a little smaller. I can’t tell if I can’t stand him or think he’s a little funny. “Must be an early sign of brain damage.”

He tilts his water bottle in a vague gesture towards my face. “I’d believe it.”

Rude. I know I just said it, but still. “At least I have an excuse.”

His eyebrows draw together in offense, and it doesn’t make me feel great. He wasn’t that bad and that was sort of a jump, but I’ll probably never see him again, so...

“What’s your--”

Before he can get into any sort of rant, a voice cuts him off, “Jason.” Oh, it’s Dick. I turn my head enough to catch his tense look. “Leave her alone.”

“She started it.”

Okay, yeah, I think he annoys me more than I find him funny. “Nice come back,” I mumble, pushing away from the counter, “What are you? 12?”

“If you want to find out--”

Ah. I’ve been through too much today for this. "Like that line’s ever worked.”

He isn’t swayed by my reaction, “Trust me, I don’t need--”

“Okay,” Dick inserts himself into the conversation, and a part of me is glad for the excuse to leave. “Enough.” He then looks at me, “Are you ready?”

At least it’ll be over soon. “As long as you don’t tell me that stuff turned me part alien or whatever.”

He draws his eyebrows together, “Part alien?”

“So magical science goo is real, but my thing’s unrealistic.”

#dc titans #titans show #titans x reader #dick grayson #jason todd x reader #jason todd #redhood #redhood x reader #gar logan #rachel roth

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