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btsmosphere · 7 months ago

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Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 4: We Aren't Heroes, Honey

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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens?~ 🗲this chapter: A chaotic arrival turns everything on its head, and the boys are ready to let you in on their real game.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader, side established vmin 🗲word count: 5.9k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, injury, blood, weapons

a/n: if you hadn't already noticed, vmin is a side pairing in this fic! I probably won't add that in every chapter description tho, since they don't really have a plot revolving around them, but they are together as side characters because I love them mwahahaha🤩while we will learn more about them, they have an entire backstory, one of the many things I know about this universe that never made it "on screen"👀 I also just want to say how thrilled I am that people are enjoying this fic! To those of you who have left me comments, reblogged with sweet and supportive tags or sent in asks, it means the absolute world and I love you all💜💜

(previously)

“I did exactly what I’m training to do.”

“Like scare him half to death?”

Dropping your head, you gazed at your hands, wishing anew that you didn’t have this complicated curse that drove people away. That made you into a danger.

But you didn’t have the words or the will to explain this to the obstinate Jungkook.

“See you at training,” you spoke flatly, and stepped away.

See him at training you did. Not that he was any more helpful than normal.

As always, you gritted your teeth and tried to run through the same actions, still getting used to them. Over the course of the next few sessions, you certainly noticed an improvement, your powers coming more and more naturally to you than you had thought possible at first.

Still, Jungkook clearly disagreed.

You stood in the centre of the training space, arm raised. Just as you had been doing for the past half hour, you shot a bolt, expecting to hear the rattle of the target when you met it. And beyond that, the same heavy silence that always filled your practises.

Instead, your training ‘partner’ stepped nonchalantly in front of the shot.

Eyes widening, you closed your fist, shutting off the flow of power as fast as possible. But as you gawped in outrage, Jungkook raised a hand, easily deflecting the jet of blue electricity that had escaped with a quick burst of his own gold lightning.

Lowering his hand as if he hadn’t just placed himself in front of something deadly, he stuffed it into his pocket and smirked.

“What are you-” you spluttered, “you- you should be careful!”

“If I’m really expected to babysit you, I would hope to see more improvement than that,” he replied easily, “I mean, great, you can shoot, but attacking isn’t what this is all about.”

You raised an eyebrow, watching as he slowly walked towards you.

“Imagine I was someone else,” he continued.

“I wish,” you muttered, adding in an exaggerated eye roll. Jungkook didn’t comment on that, but you saw his gaze harden.

“Someone without my powers,” he drawled, “I would be dead.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to walk across while I was training!”

“You’re not supposed to expect it,” he shot back.

“And when exactly do you forsee me shooting lightning bolts out in public?”

At last, he seemed surprised by your response. Really, he thought you were raring to go out and terrorise the streets? You scoffed, ready to return to your usual mutual silence, but he recovered himself.

“You should control them in here as well,” he spoke, though there was less malice behind it this time. “You’ve already scared V shitless once.”

Arms folded, he turned his back on you, abandoning the conversation.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” you muttered, not really caring whether he decided to pay attention or not, “I’m trying.”

But if his step faltered a little, you didn’t notice. He kept his back to you and walked away.

You had been doing a steady amount of work each day with your powers. It didn’t take long for the others to be proven right as you noticed it got easier both in and out of the training rooms as time stretched on. With your powers in use so frequently, they didn’t often try to break out when you least expected it anymore.

And though it hadn’t been long, you were getting a sense of the motions of this unconventional household.

On your way to training, you would pass the others at work, with or without their powers. It made sense that superheroes (it felt strange thinking of them as superheroes, but you supposed that was what you all were, in a way) needed to work out physically as well, to give them the upper hand in any fights.

Not that you could imagine them fighting... Most of the time. Sometimes you would see the power inherent in Jimin’s stance when he threw weights heavier than you could lift across the room with a flick of a finger. Or the deadly speed and precision as Hoseok darted around impossible obstacles.

But then they would huddle around the tv with you in the evening, cradling steaming bowls of food prepared by Jin or Yoongi, usually. The sight of V bundled in a fluffy blanket, laughing at Jimin more than the film, made it hard to believe he was some supernatural force of nature.

Namjoon, though. That, you could believe. He was the rarest sight in the house, even above the enigmatically quiet V.

However, if he caught you and Jungkook on your way out of practise, he would always beam like you were his children, ignoring the scowls that no doubt adorned your faces. Jin did the same, always clapping Jungkook on the shoulder in praise.

If only the others knew how Jungkook neglected the job they believed he was doing.

But as much as you wondered how different it would be if Namjoon had continued teaching you, you understood it couldn’t be that way. Not when he was constantly holed up in his office, or staring at a tablet and tugging his hands through his hair. His job seemed to be important, always moving with hurried purpose.

So then, with all the people and noise you were surrounded by now, it was a shock when things turned quiet.

Before this, you had lived on your own. Woken up each day just to head to work, Kuyang and the lab workers the only faces you saw before returning back to empty space.

So why was it this hard to get used to again?

Sometimes, the house emptied. Not totally, but since it was usually Jungkook that remained with you, it may as well have been. Each time you came from practice to find the house deserted, a scowl would etch itself into his face and he would retreat back to the gym, or somewhere. You never bothered to follow him.

When this happened, you kept your eyes on the news. If they were superheroes – which they must be, what other job could a bunch of powered people have? – then surely they would show up?

But without fail, the news stayed quiet. Either that, or heroes like Bolt or Monsoon (another worshipped figure in your city) instead had stamped out some threat and were being celebrated as always.

You weren’t sure what it was, but something made you shut off the tv when the rest returned, not wanting them to see what you had been looking for.

Generally, though, they didn’t leave you alone for too long, which was nice. You were nearly always in the communal spaces, since you had nothing to do in your room, bare as it was.

So it was when you heard hissed voices that you realised maybe you should let them have more time without you.

“She’s not more important! I don’t get why I have to, of all of us-“

Still hidden in the corridor, you froze when you heard Jungkook’s hushed voice in the living room.

“We’re fine to be down one, it’s not particularly risky,” someone replied.

“Please, can’t one of you stay for once? I already have to spend half my time with her!”

Gulping, you retreated the way you had come. You shouldn’t be hearing this, you knew that. Above all, you couldn’t stand the flicker of hurt that bled through you at the venomous words, though you ought to be used to them by now.

Sitting in your room, you idly played around, forming a ball of blue static that hovered above your palm. You sighed as you tossed it from hand to hand. This should be impressive, but you knew you were still incredibly clumsy with your powers compared to the others: Jungkook made sure you knew it.

But you stayed there, enjoying being able to use your powers without purpose or judgment.

After a while, a tap on your door heralded Yoongi calling you for dinner. Any tension you had sensed earlier when they didn’t know you were listening had dissipated.

Of course, Jungkook was ignoring you, but it was better that way. He was battling Hobi with chopsticks instead, trying to score a piece of meat from his plate as his opponent shrieked in protest. Jimin was falling onto the table with laughter, Yoongi groaning as he took a seat and slid a bowl to you.

Quietly thanking him, you began to eat without trying to muscle into the conversation. It was clear how comfortable these boys were together, having been arguing not long before and now joking around with the air free of bad feelings.

Even though you had never predicted your life going in this direction, you found yourself grateful. Despite the obvious Jungkook issue, having these vibrant people around you was such a stark contrast to your lonely state before Bolt had tried to kill you.

You were only reminded of the frosty conversation you had accidentally eavesdropped when, a few days later, you got the afternoon free of Jungkook.

As usual, that morning the two of you occupied the same room, training by yourselves. Today, Jungkook never offered so much as a word, and almost sprinted away after the hour was up. You couldn’t bring yourself to complain, instead taking the time to rest and return lazily upstairs at your own pace.

When you arrived, the unfortunately familiar sight of an empty apartment waited for you.

Funny, though. You hadn’t seen Jungkook come back downstairs as he normally did when the others went out.

Shrugging it off, you headed for the shower. It had almost slipped your mind by the time you emerged, but confusion instantly resurfaced when you were faced with the back of Jin’s head.

Stepping around the sofa and into the main space, you caught his attention.

“Ah, Y/N,” he greeted, turning away from the tv show he had quietly in the background.

“Jin,” you smiled, “where’s Jungkook?”

A smirk bloomed on his face before you had the chance to realise how that might have sounded.

“I didn’t realise you would miss him,” he teased.

Rolling your eyes, you sunk onto the other sofa.

“I’m not sorry to see him gone,” you quickly backpedalled, “but I just… thought you had all gone out again.”

“Well, Kook was feeling left out,” Jin explained, “I know you two aren’t exactly the best of friends but he’s still been helping you out, so we thought it was fair he doesn’t have to do that all the time and miss out on our… stuff.”

You nodded along as you understood the situation. As if to distract from his strangely vague ending statement, Jin jumped straight in again with a chipper voice.

“But I heard you’re getting much better! Jungkook says he can trust you to work independently, so maybe you won’t have to endure each other’s company as much!”

Now that made you laugh. Loudly. Jungkook had better trust you to work independently – he forced you to do it half the time anyway with his reluctance to teach you.

Jin seemed pleased with your reaction, and you two carried on chatting. It took you a while to even notice his quick glances at the door, the slight jittering leg, the distracted way he watched the show with glazed eyes, not fully taking it in.

When he suggested dinner, he all but sprang from the sofa. With a light frown, you followed him. What was giving him so much nervous energy?

Outside was dark by now, but that didn’t stop Jin’s eyes straying to the black sky visible through the window.

For once, you actually acquiesced to him rejecting your offer to help in the kitchen. He seemed pleased to have his hands busy, even if his knife occasionally clattered too loudly on the counter or oil splatted out of the slightly too-hot pan.

But all that was forgotten when a commotion suddenly shocked the air. The main door must be fully soundproof: that was the only explanation for the way it was silent one second, and the next raised voices were almost at the top of the stairs.

Whipping around to face the sudden interruption, Jin brandished his spatula in panic for a moment. You jumped from your seat.

Then Namjoon swept into the room, long coat swishing as he marched across the room, face set. Looking first at him in panic, your eyes returned to the others following him in and your jaw dropped.

Between Jimin and Jungkook, they were supporting V, whose head drooped alarmingly, legs barely making purchase on the floor. You were frozen on the spot as they hauled him past you. You hadn’t even noticed Yoongi come in until items were being shoved roughly from the counter to the floor to make space to lay V down there.

Swallowing, you staggered back a step, watching with wide eyes at his collapsed form. Sweat beaded on his furrowed brow, feverish spasms weakly shaking his body.

“What happened?” Jin exclaimed, panic shaking his voice.

A storminess brewed in Namjoon’s eyes, which glowed a little red though you weren’t sure if he noticed he was doing that. Turning to Jin with a serious expression, all he said was:

“Our suspicions were true.”

His words meant nothing to you, but the way Jin’s face paled struck fear through you.

Closest to the table, Jimin’s eyes glistened with tears as he clutched V’s hand, murmuring to him. You couldn’t hear him, but you had the feeling it wasn’t for you to hear and turned your eyes away.

Not a moment later, a harsh shove had you stumbling to the side, Jungkook barging past. You couldn’t even spite him for it. The panic spiralling through you at the state of your friend was painful enough, but these boys were his family. You couldn’t imagine the depth of their worry right now.

“What do we do?” Jungkook demanded, stopping in front of Namjoon and Jin. His frame was taught, nearly shaking as he looked to his hyungs for answers.

They always seemed to know what to do, but the uncertainty on Jin’s face as he stepped closer to the unconscious V was concerning.

“W-what happened?” he asked.

Hope was wringing his hands beside him, but spoke up.

“It was like we thought, when we showed up. We knew we had to get out, but B- he caught us, right at the end. We were just going, but V freaked, and-and then he- then- I don’t know what it was hyung, but he shot something…”

Hobi’s voice was bordering on hysterical, and as he trailed away, he leant forwards to pull V’s jacket aside. Jimin whimpered, turning his face away to bury it further against V’s arm.

There, on V’s torso, a section of his shirt was mangled, a bloodied shape seemingly etched into his side. Though the bloodstained shirt made it difficult to see, you couldn’t mistake that. It was no gunshot wound – you had seen something like this before.

The injury was fairly large, shaped something like a star. A familiar shape instantly sprung into your imagination, metal that spit sparks as it flew across the room, latching onto the wall at the other end.

Except, this time it had certainly not been used in lab conditions.

“I- I don’t know,” Jin was stuttering, “I’ve never seen something like this before…”

The silence was totally stifling, Jin’s admission met with disbelief. Namjoon ran hands roughly through his hair, biting at his cheek.

“We have to DO SOMETHING!”

Jungkook’s yell made you flinch a little. He moved forcefully, returning to the table with a handful of tea towels and thrusting one at Hope.

“Let’s just- stop the bleeding, at least-”

“He has powers, the bleeding isn’t the issue, Jungkook-”

“Do you have any better ideas?!”

His eyes flickered a blazing gold as he spun to yell at Jin, something he would never normally do. But right now, that was the least of his worries. He trembled from head to toe with tension, and you could see the shine of tears he was unable to will away from his eyes.

“Right, yes,” Jin swallowed, taking the towel and pressing it to the wound, as Hobi was already doing.

At the no doubt painful contact, though, V jerked a little, purple flame shooting from his hands. It was brief, but you all jumped back from the sudden heat.

“Why’s he doing that?” Jimin’s voice thrummed with underlying fear, “he hasn’t had an outburst in…”

The others only looked between themselves, equally lost.

After a moment, V hadn’t moved again, and Jimin was the first to gravitate back to his side.

Frowning at the ground, you willed your memory to work faster. Jimin’s heartbreaking calls for V, hand pressed desperately to his cheek though he was met with no response, had you racing through your memories.

Kuyang had had you in charge of all his safety files back at the lab, but right now you didn’t have access to the computer with them all stored on. It was at the tip of your tongue, just out of reach. You frantically grasped for any hint of memory about this particular weapon.

“Iodine,” you muttered. Your eyes widened as it dawned on you.

No one heard.

“Iodine,” you repeated, louder this time, “do you have iodine?”

Heads turned towards you, as if they had forgotten you were there at all. Jimin’s tearful face emerged, tentatively hopeful as you spoke.

“That wound is radioactive, it’s what’s messing with his powers. We need to give him some before it gets too far into his bloodstream.”

You spoke with a calm urgency, grateful you could keep your voice from wavering. Trusting your firm tone, Jin hurriedly nodded, darting away down the corridor without a look back.

As you watched him go, you caught Namjoon’s gaze. You stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do with yourself, and his piercing stare startled you. A frown tightened his features and you had the odd sensation that he was calculating you.

Still, he said nothing. But it seemed someone else was less afraid to breach the silence.

“Who put you in charge?”

Only Jungkook had the sense to question you, glaring from where he had taken over pressing on V’s wound.

“This weapon, it uses radiation-“ you began.

“How do you know?” He cut you off. “Isn’t iodine toxic? You’re trying to kill him-”

“It’s the only way-”

“I won’t let you touch him!”

Tentatively stepping forward, you fixed Jungkook with a level gaze. His eyes narrowed, distrustful.

“It’s only toxic if we give too much,” you explained, forcing your voice to stay calm, “he has powers, he should be able to take it. Like Jin said, with powers, you can withstand more bleeding than others. It’s the radiation poisoning that’s hurting him, not the wound.”

Though his teeth were gritted and his glare lost none of its ferocity, he kept quiet.

“We need to stop it,” you spoke with finality.

Just then, Jin dashed back into the room, bottles and packets nearly spilling from his arms before he deposited them on the counter. Rushing forwards to meet him, you spotted some other bottles too.

“Pentetic acid? Where did you get-“

“It helps, doesn’t it?” Jin supplied, and you left it at that. It was another agent Kuyang had had on the safety files as a radiation blocker, but you had never expected to see it outside a lab.

You didn’t complain, though. V needed all the help he could get.

Jin’s fingers fumbled with a small needle as he pulled it out and filled it, looking to you for confirmation.

Nodding, you hastily stepped out of his way, planting yourself beside Jungkook. He watched warily, though you were sure it helped that it was Jin applying the remedy and not you.

A stony silence fell once Jin pulled away. Of course, it wouldn’t work instantly, but you hoped with all your might that some change would be visible. These chemicals were dangerous, the cure to this weapon difficult to apply for good reason. It was a weapon after all.

The bin opened and closed, the room so quiet you could hear the used needle falling inside it.

Hope sunk weakly into a chair, eyes still fixed on his injured brother. Jimin remained close to V, gripping his hand despite the threat of the fire that could burst from them at any moment.

Your eyes slid to Jungkook at your side. Of course he didn’t look away from V.

It felt as if your heart was squeezing its way up your throat, the longer V remained motionless. He had been seriously hurt, and though you were confident in your cure, having learned it from the weapon’s creator, the nagging worry that you might have made it worse refused to go away.

V could be hurt. He could – you didn’t even dare to think it.

The others would never forgive you. Jungkook would never forgive you. You would never be able to forgive yourself if you caused something like this.

And beyond all that, your mind was running frantic laps trying to figure out how Kuyang’s prototypes had ended up being fired at your new friends. Kuyang may have been unhinged, and more than a little shady, but to commit such violence?

But there must have been a reason for him making the things he did in that lab…

The memory of his face the last time you saw him assaulted you then; the way his normally pleasant demeanour left no trace on his fearsome expression when he had found Bolt inside his lab.

Guilt sat heavily inside you as you gazed down at V.

“Taetae?”

Jimin’s voice was quiet, nervous, but still sweet. Despite the low volume, as the only sound in the room it caught everyone’s attention.

A laugh bubbled out of Jimin as the younger boy stirred with a low groan.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Jimin cooed, “you’re okay, we’re home, I’m here.”

Gently, him and Jin helped the boy to sit, and though he seemed tired, the flush had faded from his cheeks. He was no longer sweating and his breathing was even, but his hair was left sticking in places to his forehead.

Jimin took his hands.

“Can you feel your powers, baby? Are-are they there?”

Slowly, V nodded. Turning a hand over, he summoned a single flame, livid purple, to dance on his palm.

“Okay, okay,” Jin closed his fist, “don’t tire yourself out.”

But you could tell he was as relieved as the others that V could still control his powers. Even if you had only just learned what they were, you now understood Jungkook’s outburst when you had come across V at night before. If not controlled, fire was certainly a lethal force to have at your fingertips.

They left, disappearing to get V settled and cleaned up. Even though having powers gave you higher tolerance to injuries, it was still unwise to leave them untreated.

Casting your eyes across the rest of the room, you saw Jungkook duck away from your gaze.

You let him.

The remnants of adrenaline in your body were fizzling out and you understood the temptation to collapse into a seat.

However, as Yoongi moved across to the stove, you joined him without a word needing to be exchanged. The cold beginnings of Jin’s meal from earlier were sitting in pans and chopping boards, and you simply picked up where he left off.

The two of you cooked with minimal movement and noise, not disrupting the stillness of the kitchen as everyone soaked in what had just happened. At some point Namjoon had disappeared.

Though only four of you remained, you ate nonetheless and boxed the rest up. No one said much, and you didn’t try to change that. In fact, you hardly looked up from your plate, preferring to leave the others to their thoughts. They didn’t need you intruding right now.

Of course, that did nothing to stop the onslaught of questions filling your mind.

You still didn’t really know what the boys got up to on their mysterious excursions, and V coming home so badly injured – by one of your old boss’ experiments, no less – only made you more lost. And intrigued.

Still, you held your tongue.

It was only when you collected everyone’s plates that you caught Jungkook’s eyes boring into the side of your head. Looking up at last, you found him staring at you with a confused frown etched across his brow. He held your gaze though, the ever present intensity of his own making you shrink away towards the basin to distract yourself with washing up.

Just as you thought you would have to endure a silent room without the distraction of food to alleviate the tension, Namjoon returned.

At first, only seeing a shadowy figure in the hall, you thought perhaps V had come back, or at least Jin or Jimin to give an update. Perhaps that was entirely too optimistic. Nonetheless, even the stressed-looking Namjoon was a welcome distraction.

You had begun to scoop some more food into a bowl for him when he spoke. He hadn’t come any further into the room, still hovering in the shadows of the hallway.

“I’m sure you have questions.”

Pausing in your movements, you lifted your head. The others all turned their heads to you as well, leaving you like an animal stuck in headlights.

“Uh-” you stuttered once you eventually caught up with yourself, “I mean, I guess…”

Glancing around you, you found Yoongi and Hope looked a little nervous, some doubt in their faces. Jungkook, on the other hand, was smirking.

Not knowing what to make of that, you decided not to keep Namjoon waiting. He seemed fairly expectant, his not entering the room making it clear that you should follow, so you picked up some chopsticks and brought the food along with you.

Namjoon may have seemed a little surprised when you handed him his dinner, but he took it anyway. Once you were in his office, he started eating without complaint.

“Am I right to presume,” he began between mouthfuls, though he was preparing the next already, “that you knew about the weapon used on V because of your work for Kuyang?”

You quickly confirmed, but you could no longer hold back further questions.

“Yes, but how did it end up- I mean, why was it used? Did Kuyang-?”

Shaking his head, Namjoon cut you off with a wave of his chopsticks. He swallowed and continued perfectly calmly.

“It wasn’t Kuyang that used it.”

Already, your shoulders slumped in relief. But still-

“Then how…?”

Sighing, Namjoon set his cutlery down and sat back.

“Kuyang is one of our… associates,” he began to explain. “After the attack, he escaped, as you know, and went into hiding. Only, we found his lab totally empty soon after.”

At this he sighed, raking a hand through his hair as he always seemed to do without noticing. You could empathise with his stress; the news had you shuffling closer to the edge of your seat. The stuff Kuyang worked with was dangerous, it shouldn’t just… go missing.

“We weren’t sure what to think at first, and we investigated for a while. Other, similar cases have cropped up too, others among our allies being raided. It became too difficult to deny what we feared… Bolt was the only connection.”

Without noticing, your mouth was gaping open, eyes widening. You blinked as Namjoon’s words sunk in. But surely you were misunderstanding? It couldn’t be…

Slowly, you were able to form words.

“Bolt fired at V? At all of you?”

Namjoon nodded.

Shutting your mouth, you swallowed. Your mind may have been whirling at a hundred miles an hour, but nothing made it as far as to form a sentence. Fragments flitted past, telling a story you were afraid to believe.

Bolt was the city’s superhero… a hero… everyone knew that.

He protected the city from harm.

Yet he had shot you… and now V…

The silence stretched out, Namjoon pausing in his meal as he watched you. When you eventually spoke, your voice was small.

“You were fighting… against Bolt?”

A wry chuckle left his lips. Cocking his head, he clasped his hands.

“Villains, one might say. Many do.”

You simply blinked at him. Meanwhile, Namjoon stared evenly at you, gauging your reaction.

“What else has Bolt done?” you ventured.

Namjoon’s eyebrows raised.

“What do you mean?”

Stammering slightly, you tried to explain.

“Well, I already know Bolt isn’t exactly as… innocent, as most people think. He- I mean, at Kuyang’s- when Bolt was there, he had no reason to shoot me? But I hadn’t really thought about… why he was at Kuyang’s lab. What’s going on?”

As you spoke, a faint smile quirked Namjoon’s mouth. As you trailed off, he nodded. It seemed he was finally willing to indulge you.

“It’s true that Kuyang had set his latest experiment on Bolt already. To the media, it would simply seem that Bolt was retaliating, or eradicating the threat they perceive people like Kuyang to be. But today confirmed what we feared. Bolt is collecting.”

“He’s not destroying those weapons?”

Before Namjoon’s confirming shake of the head, you already knew the answer.

Though many of your questions had now been answered, it felt like you had opened up a whole new realm of possibilities that you couldn’t wrap your head around. But Namjoon didn’t allow you time to spiral into further confusion.

“I had hoped this would have to come later,” he spoke carefully, chewing on his cheek as he sat back once more. “we’ve taken in a few people before, helped them control their powers and then proceed to leave this life behind…

“You clearly know that this world isn’t as black and white as the city media wants us to think. But you should also know we aren’t many people’s idea of heroes. We fight against this society. We use violence, we support developers like Kuyang, who are…”

A wave of his hand was all that was needed. You both knew the kind of person it took to create the things Kuyang spent his time working on.

“People don’t agree with us,” he continued seriously, “which is why I’m offering you the chance to leave. As I said, we normally wait until someone has full control of their powers. Out there, the world isn’t exactly… kind to people like us. Bolt, Monsoon, heroes from tv – they’re the exceptions. People don’t like those who are different. They see our powers as a threat, and they do twisted things to gain power over people they fear. If you choose to go, we want you to at least be safe.”

Breathing deeply, you sat reeling.

Everything that had been presented to you should have flipped this whole thing on its head. Your new friends were by no means superheroes, as you previously thought. There was a reason you never saw their names in glowing lights on tv like Bolt.

But really… did it change anything?

Breaking through the silence, the click of the door handle. Since the new arrival hadn’t even knocked, you were certain who it was before they even entered your line of sight.

“Hey,” Jin spoke. Then he paused, looking between the two of you in the sombre silence. Cautiously raising a brow, he turned towards Namjoon. “You told her?”

Namjoon nodded.

“How’s V?” Namjoon then asked nearly straight away. That was a relief; you were wondering the same thing yourself.

Wiping his brow, Jin perched himself against the desk. Though his sigh was tired, he nodded.

“He’ll be fine. He’s already annoying poor Jiminie again, so that should tell you enough.” After a brief hesitation, he continued, eyes shifting to you. “That was a close one though… if Y/N hadn’t been there…”

With the room’s attention on you once again, you gulped. But somehow, what you said next didn’t take you much thought.

“I want to stay.”

Namjoon kept his infuriating poker face on as he appraised you, but Jin cracked a smile.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he grinned, clapping you on the shoulder. Turning to Namjoon, he cried a smug “I told you!”

Encouraged, you nodded with more certainty.

“I agree with you guys – Bolt goes unquestioned, he’s practically worshipped. But whatever he’s doing, I want to help stop him. And he did try to kill me after all – you guys are the ones who've helped me. I trust you.”

“Good,” Namjoon spoke, digging back in to his food, “I wanted to offer you a position in the team, if you said yes. With Bolt on the move like this, we need all the power we can get-”

As a smile was just blooming on your face, it was halted by his next words.

“But. You aren’t ready just yet. I want you out there with us, so I’m willing to send you out sooner than I have with others before. These are unusual times, and you have to understand this will be more dangerous than I normally send rookies to. There’s work to do, with your powers, but also…

“As much as I appreciate your trust in us, I know it doesn’t extend fully. I need my team to be able to trust each other. Every single one.”

Fixing you with a hard stare to accompany his last words, he was effective in making you shrink in your seat. You knew exactly who he was talking about.

And that person was waiting for you right outside.

On leaving the office, you found Jungkook leaning up against the wall. Jin and Namjoon had hung back, leaving you alone as you emerged, and you instantly rolled your eyes. Determined not to be deterred, you kept walking down the corridor, trying to fix your eyes ahead – firmly away from the infuriating man that watched your approach.

“Scared yet?” his smirk bled through his words. You were almost upon him at this point, and he pushed away from the wall, blocking the way with his black-clad body.

Eyes flicking up to him, unimpressed, you tapped your foot.

“Why would I be scared?”

One corner of his mouth curved up, looking you in the eye as he leaned a little closer.

“We aren’t heroes, honey.”

“Thanks for spelling that out, Jungkook,” you drawled, making to step past him.

His laughter followed you while you started walking away.

“Need help packing?” he called.

“Hey, Jungkook,” Jin’s stern voice joined him, “no need. She’s not going anywhere.”

Jungkook’s silence spoke volumes.

Glancing back as you reached the end of the corridor, you were met with the livid expression that seemed so familiar. Jungkook’s eyes bulged with shock. You were sure that Jin’s hand on his shoulder was all that was holding him back.

Making the most of his eyes on you, you flashed a serene smile and walked away.

But though an (admittedly large) part of you took satisfaction in Jungkook’s shock and rage, you knew you would be expected to work with him. Properly work with him, not the frosty silence he currently counted as work.

With the impossibility of this steadily creeping over you, you climbed the stairs heavily.

As you returned to the wary stares of your friends and dispelled their trepidation, assuring them you were staying and trying to settle down to a relatively normal evening, it remained in the back of your mind.

But you could deal with Jungkook tomorrow. For now, you let yourself be reminded of the reasons you wanted to stay here with them.

Thank you for reading!!💜comments, questions etc. are always welcome! Fanfiction is all about community and if you wanted a sign that it's ok to participate, you are invited!!💞

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#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook series #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook x you #jungkook mafia au #bts mafia au #bts series #jungkook fanfic #jeongguk angst #jeongguk imagine #jungkook scenario #superhero bts #supervillain bts #jungkook e2l #jungkook enemies to lovers

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spahhzy · 2 months ago

Note

Because I enjoy your abgst can we see some grimm knightshade. Featuring an obsessed grimm blake (dishwasher1910 ver.) Also can have some horror elements too.

Jaune breathed heavily as he hid in the darkness of his old dorm in the destroyed ruins that was Beacon Academy. Shakily trying to collect his thoughts, he closed his eyes as he heard a low growling rumble through the halls.

Jaune was being hunted.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm the rumbling in his heart as he replayed in his mind of a warmer time.

Jaune stirred gently from his slumber, blue eyes opening slowly as he felt a warm presence hugging his side.

Turning his head to the right, he saw a pair of cat ears and a mop of black hair as their nestled in his side was Blake Belladona of Team RWBY and his girlfriend of four years, sleeping contently in their bed.

Jaune just smiled warmly as he let out a content sigh, burying his face into her hair as Blake let out small purring noise.

Yes, Jaune could stay here forever...

Salem: Glad to finally have your attention, Jaune Arc.

Jaune was violently shaken from his deep sleep to find himself in shakles as Salem smirked at him.

Salem: This little war between Ozma and I has grown boring, don't you believe so?

Jaune said nothing, as it all came back to him. This bloody shadow war, all his friends fighting in vain as they couldn't defeat the dark witch.

Salem: Come now, I wanted you to see something special. You killed Cinder, remember that? Well... I think I need a replacement... and I happen to finally know just who to fit that role...I have been yearning...to be a mother again, but I can't have children anymore.

Jaune just glared at her, hate flowing through his blue eyes as he wished all kinds of pain and suffering against her.

Salem: You remember my hounds, right? They were the first...in a long series of experiments I have been trying... and experiment to create the first ever Hybrid.

Jaune's eyes widened.

A Hybrid? Hybrid of what. Those hounds if what Ruby told him correctly were human fused to Grimm.

Salem: Ahh, I see you're finally catching on Mr. Arc...as much as I come to love those hounds... they were but mere pets too me, nothing human remained...until today.

Jaune could only watch in horror as Salem moved out of the way to see a black tar pit right behind her.

Salem: Oh, do not fret, Mr. Arc, this pit is not for you... I had planned it for Cinder, but you took that away from me...so now I will take away something from you.

Suddenly, with a snap of her fingers, a pair of Beowolves appeared carrying someone, and Jaune could only recoil in shock and terror.

beaten, cut up, bite marks everywhere, and bleeding badly was his lover.

Jaune: Blake! BLAKE!!

Blake weakly lifted her head, her amber eyes that were dull, and seemed to gain a little spark in them seeing her lover right in front of her.

Blake: J-jaune...

Jaune: It's me, Blake, it's me!

Salem: Ahh love, a dreadful bond!

Reaching down, she grabbed Blake by the hair harshly as Jaune tried to break free of his chain and make his way to her only for one of the Beowolfs to swipe at him, knocking him down.

Salem: Blake Belladona, you have been chosen to be something far greater than what you are now!

Blake didn't hear anything she just kept her gaze onto Jaune, her amber eyes pleading to Jaune's eyes that said to 'Run away', but Jaune looked at her unwillingly to leave her.

Salem: You, my dear, shall be the first to bridge the gap between Grimm, Human, and Faunus!

With strength, only a monster could have the queen of the Grimm lifted Blake effortlessly as Jaune could only watch helpless as Blake clawed futile at Salem's hand.

Salem: Accept your fate...

And with a flick of her arm tossed Blake into the air, right into the Grimm pool. As Jaune screamed at the top of his lungs to Blake

Salem: And begin anew!

Jaune hummed a little tune as he calmed the crying girl down as he helped navigate her through the busling crowd before helping her find her mother.

Waving goodbye, Jaune looked to see Blake behind him with a small smile.

Blake: What were you humming just now?

Jaune: Oh, just an old tune my mom used to sing to me when I was a kid, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Have you ever heard it?

Blake just shook her head.

Jaune: Want me to sing it to you?

Blake ears twitched before she nodded, and Jaune smiled and sang the tune.

Ever since then, Blake has always either hummed the song or sang it herself, even going as far as adding new lyrics to it herself, for fun.

Jaune snapped out of his thoughts and came back to reality as an inhuman shriek was heard.

Jaune felt a cold terror grip his chest as the door to his dorm slowly opened as he peeked from behind his hiding spot and saw the very thing hunting him down, it's scared him but most of all it broke his heart.

Gliding in ethereal, her skin pale as a pearl, dressed in a dark red kimono, she made her way to the center of the room.

Jaune didn't dare make a sound.

Red eyes seemingly scanning everywhere, as the moonlight illuminated her face from the darkness, revealing the lower half of her face covered in an oni mask.

Despite everything and all the fear he was feeling, she was still the most beautiful woman in all of Remnant to him.

Blake moved forward, her eyes focusing on a single thing. And Jaune was able to look and see as Blake came to the bed she and him shared.

She moved her right arm as tentacles spewed forward as they gently touched the bed, all the while Blake let out a low rumble from her throat.

Was she trying...to purr?

Jaune couldn't answer that question as suddenly the tentacles wrapped around the bed harshly before their bed was thrown through a wall.

Blake let out another inhuman wail as Jaune had to cover his ears at noise. The shriek caused whatever was left of the roof to finally cave in, leaving one big hole allowing the rest of the moon to cover the entire room.

Blake looked around, and Jaune had to do his very best to try and stop himself from going out their.

Jaune: It's not your Blake...not anymore.

Blake stopped looking around as she raised her red eyes to the night sky staring at the moon.

Suddenly, she raised a tentacle to her covered face as she suddenly began to peel it off her face mask. As Jaune could only look on in gross fascination to see, Blake mouth or what could only constitute as a mouth was wider than the average human, sharp pointed teeth was all he could see before she suddenly opened her mouth to length also not human revealing a set of smaller teeth deep inside but to Jaune it looked like she was going to sp-

'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star'

Jaune heart nearly came to a stop, this Grimm abomination was singing and it sounded so much like Blake.

'How I wonder what you are'

'Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky'

Jaune closed his eyes as tears began to fell as he heard this monster sing in her voice.

'When the blazing sun is gone, when the nothing shines upon'

'Then you show your little light, Twinkle Twinkle all the night'

Jaune had to bite his hand to stop him from just running out to her, knowing full well it would be a death sentence.

'Then the traveler in the dark, thanks you for your little spark, she could not see which way to go if you did not Twinkle so'

'When the blazing sun is gone, when the nothing shines upon, though I know not what you are. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star'.

Jaune just didn't say anything as he let his tears fall, and him just biting his hand.

Blake just stood in the center, before closing her mouth as she the oni mask covered her mouth once more, with one more inhuman screech, Blake floated up throughout the hole.

Jaune waited for a few minutes and made sure the cost was clear before finally he collapsed back down and curled himself into a ball, as the haunting voice of Blake replayed in his ears while the horrible monster flashed in his eyes.

Jaune had survived the night.

I ran the idea through my head to make a Grimm transformation more akin to something like that of a Necromorph of Dead Space, but i didn't want to veer off the path.

#jaune arc #blake bellodona #knightshade #rwby knightshade #rwby salem #my asks #answered asks

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shizuncollector · 1 month ago

Text

Luo Binghe’s hands are shaking slightly as he cuts his palm. He barely feels the pain as the cold metal pierces his skin and red blood starts to flow from the wound.

His mind goes to his mother.

Focus he wills himself.

He dips two fingers of his non injured hand in the blood, coating them as if he’s picking paint. Which is not so far from the truth.

The first stroke is shaky, almost insecure. Binghe takes a deep breath.

He ignores how his mind keeps repeating the agonizing scream his mother let out before vanishing.

Focus.

The second stroke comes out more certain. Then the third, and the fourth.

In little time, the entire array is drawn in the stone in front of him.

Despite not pourint any qi into it yet, the blood shines faintly, more pinkinsh than red, giving the cave almost a playful atmosphere.

Binghe hates it.

Putting the knife away, Binghe puts both hands on the ground in front of him. His palms out of the array, with just the tips of his fingers touching the edge of the circle.Slowly, he pours qi into the array.

Both qi, demonic and spiritual.

The light doesn’t dim, nor becomes stronger, but something changes in the air. The shadows become more pronounced, Binghe’s hot breath condensing in the sudden cold air.

There’s no playfulness in the pink light now.

Binghe curses lowly, wondering how much qi he’ll need to pour before-

There’s someone standing in the array.

Binghe pulls his hands away, startled.

The person chuckles. Low and almost childlike.

Binghe raises his eyes, looking up to a pair of eyes amusingly staring at him from behind a fan.

There’s a man standing in the middle of the array.

Light green robes seem to float in the air, caught in a non existent breeze. There’s nothing tucking them close, and Binghe can see the pristine, almost translucent, white robes under it.

His eyes linger in the man’s waist for a second too long before moving up again.

One of the man’s arms is crossed against the chest, palm up as the hand supports the arm holding the fan.

Slender fingers and pale wrist. Binghe swallows.

He looks the man in the eyes.

They’re warm, almost inviting. There’s a faint trace of laughter in the edges.

The fan snaps shut, and Binghe’s hands twitch against the hard stone, nails dragging across the stone.

Elongated nose and a sharp mouth, with cheeks tinted red by the light.

Despite the impassive face, the eyes still hold the edge of amusement.

Binghe is pretty sure this is the most beautiful man who ever lived.

“So. You’re Luo Binghe” The man says. His voice echoes in the cave, melodious, but almost distant.

Binghe doesn’t even think before lowering his head to the ground, forehead touching the stone.

“This lowly one is of service” He says before his mouth caughts up with his brain. Wait-

The man laughs properly this time. It’s a pretty laugh.

Despite himself, Binghe can feel his cheeks reddening.

“You’re the one who called me. Besides…”

The man lets out a low hum. Binghe presses his forehead against the stone harder.

“I’m the lowly one here, my prince.”

Binghe snaps his head up.

“What.” He croaks.

Surprises cross the man's face. Lips gently mouthing a soft oh.

“You don’t know” He says softly.

“No” Binghe confirms, despite not being a question. Embarrassment flushes over him anew.

The man’s face turns pensive, and Binghe stirs under the studying gaze, but keeps his eyes straight, studying the man back.

Suddenly, the man pops down on the ground, sitting with crossed legs in front of Binghe.

Like this, they’re eye to eye.

Something gleams in his eyes, and if Binghe didn’t know better he would call it mischief. With one of his elbows propped in his knee, he rests his chin on the tip of the fan.

He’s smiling.

“You can call this one Shen Yuan. Why don’t you tell me what happened, Luo Binghe?”

#svsss #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #my writting #just something that's been in my mind for a while #bingqiu #bingyuan

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 2 years ago

Text

It’s Been a While….

Tobio Kageyama x Female! reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: slight angst, swearing, mostly fluff

WC: 3.5k

AN: blah idk what to think about this. It stems from an idea I had a dream about but this is one of those times I’m doubting myself. I low key want to write a part two but I also just wanna bury it 😅

Summary: Years after letting go of the love of your life and starting anew, a change provided by a friend allows you a glimpse into your old life and a chance to reconnect with the person you lost.

♥️ ♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

“So, I guess this is it huh?” You murmured, trying your best to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill as you stood in front of your now ex-boyfriend, Tobio Kageyama.

“YN listen, I-”

You put your hand out, stopping the words that were about to surface. You couldn’t stand to hear them; you couldn’t bare listening to those words again when you knew what was about to happen. If this was going to end, it was going to end on your terms.

“Tobio don’t. Please, let’s just say our goodbyes.” He sadly nodded, his head going down as you stood there, the awkward silence filling the air.

“So, you leave tomorrow morning for Italy, right? Are you all packed?” You asked as Tobio rubbed the back of his head. It was a nervous habit he had developed, something he did when he wasn’t sure how to react.

“Uhh yeah pretty much,” he responded, the silence still penetrating the air. You had tried your best to distract from the obvious but the obvious was beginning to suffocate you.

“Ok well I guess this is goodbye then,” you stuttered, trying to contain the tears. The years of memories flooded back, from the first day you met to your first date and everything beyond. You loved Tobio but you knew love wasn’t enough to keep him here with you. When he was first recruited to play in Italy, your first thoughts weren’t how proud you were of him or how this would only further his career. The only thought that filled your mind was how you’d ever bare letting him go.

“Yeah I guess so,” he whispered still standing in front of you, not wanting to hug you just yet. Hugging you would symbolize what he didn’t want to happen, it would symbolize the end of one of the best things that he’d ever had in his entire life. When he was first accepted to play in Italy, all he could think about was how amazing this opportunity was for him, how awesome it would be for his pro career in volleyball. When he shared the news with you, he hadn’t thought through the logistics of a long-distance relationship. The last thing on his mind at that time was how you’d be able to make it work. He’d never imagined it wouldn’t work.

You lunged forward, throwing your hands around his neck as you held him tightly for one last time, the tears you’d been holding in slowly seeping past your lids as his arms encompassed you, pulling you tight against him. You felt so amazing, so perfect against him and he hated it. He hated how this would be the last time he’d ever feel this serene.

You pulled back first, tears flowing down your cheeks as you looked up to him with a small smile, “I’ll be watching you, ok? So, no slacking off.”

He smiled a little and nodded, watching the tears stream down your cheeks, wanting to do nothing more than kiss them away. You slowly backed away, creating distance from him, your legs feeling so incredibly heavy as if trying their best to keep you planted.

He watched as you finally turned around, your arms going around your midsection as you hugged yourself and walking away and right out of his life.

*A Few Years Later*

Your phone rang as you checked the called id, sighing and swiping your finger across to answer the call.

“What do you want now Kuroo?” You ordered as a surprise gasp sounded from the speaker as he finally spoke.

“YN how could you hurt me like this! I thought I was your favorite person?”

You smiled and shook your head, “not by a long shot Kuroo but you are in the top 20. Is that good enough?”

Kuroo chuckled, replying, “I’ll take it! But listen, I called for a specific reason this time. I’m putting together a sort of reunion and I need my favorite photographer ever to help me!”

“Then why did you call me?” You chuckled as Kuroo laughed in response.

“YN, you know how much I love your work and you really are the best in the business!”

You sighed again, knowing Kuroo was trying his best to be flattering, “ok so what’s this reunion? Like a class reunion or what?” The silence filled the call after you spoke as confusion filled your eyes. You pulled your phone away to check if Kuroo was still connected.

“Kuroo-”

“It’s for a volleyball event YN,” he finally responded as your body stiffened. You hadn’t photographed a volleyball event since Tobio had left a few years ago, shifting your passion in a different direction.

“Kuroo I can’t-”

“YN please just hear me out, ok? I know you don’t photograph sports anymore but please, I’m desperate here. There isn’t anyone who can capture the game like you can. I’ve pulled a lot of our high school alumni into this game, and I think it would be awesome if you’d consider it. Kenma’s sponsoring and promoting the event and Asahi is helping with the uniform design. Yachi is also helping with marketing and design. Imagine if we had YN LN, the famous photographer and Karasuno Alum to photograph the event!”

When you first met Kuroo years ago, you were a first-year manager along with Yachi. You’d always thought he was a great leader and organizer as well as a person who could flatter almost anyone if he tried. He channeled his personality perfectly into his career in sports promotion, able to secure deals and push the volleyball league further than it has been in decades.

You looked over to your bookshelf, your eyes landing on the only memory you’d kept from your relationship with Tobio, a photo from his last game with the Schweiden Adlers. You walked over to it, picking it up and rubbing your finger gently down the side of the frame. In the photo you were looking at the camera, smile wide as you hand rested on Tobio’s chest. His eyes weren’t on the camera but rather on you, his large smile and eyes completely focused on you as if nothing happening around him mattered at all.

“YN you still there?”

“I’ll do it,” you bluntly spoke, an auditable and loud “yes” coming from the speaker as Kuroo continued to talk.

“You won’t regret this, Yn!! I’ll text you the details and we can meet in my office soon to discuss what you’ll be doing! I really appreciate this Yn and I owe you big time!”

You didn’t really hear much Kuroo spoke about, your eyes still focused on the photo as you began to wonder if this really was the right choice.

*A few weeks later*

“We just need headshots of all the players who are participating who are currently in Japan, the rest are going to submit their headshots to me,” Kuroo directed as you prepared your camera, making adjustments to lighting and the background as you half listened.

Exasperated, you mindlessly nodded for the 50th time as Kuroo continued to ramble, his nerves on edge since he’d returned from his trip overseas to secure several more players from the “monster generation” to play on the reunion game.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite girl!” A voice boomed as you turned around to see Atsumu, Bokuto, Sakusa and Inunaki walking into the studio. You smiled, placing your camera down as you went to greet the guys.

“Well, if it isn’t one of my favorite setters,” you joked as Atsumu pulled back from the hug, mouth agape as you chuckled at his reaction.

“Come on Yn, be realistic, he isn’t even in the top 10 on your favorite setters list,” Sakusa grumbled, walking to the corner as Atsumu glared at him.

“Hey hey hey there’s my Yn!” Bokuto shouted, hauling you into a huge hug as you squealed, your feet leaving the floor as he swung you around.

“Bokuto don’t break her!” Hoshiumi snapped from behind him, Hirugami, Romero and Heiwajima trailing after.

“Hey guys!” You cheered, letting go of Bokuto and running to hug them.

“It’s so good to see you again Yn! We were surprised to hear you were involved with this,” Romero remarked as you nodded.

“Surprised but happy!” Hoshiumi added as he hugged you.

“Well, Kuroo begged me to help so I really couldn’t say no,” you smirked as Kuroo narrowed his eyes.

“Geez Yn stop making me seem so desperate!”

“YN doesn’t need to make you seem desperate when you definitely are desperate,” Kenma stated, strolling in behind the teams as you snickered.

“Kenma you really weren’t needed you know!” Kuroo growled as Kenma shrugged his shoulders and headed to take a seat in the corner.

“I heard Oikawa and Hinata were coming too,” Heiwajima remarked as Kuroo confirmed.

“They are going to be flying in next week along with Ushijima and Kageyama.”

All eyes shifted to you at the mention of Kageyama’s name. You really couldn’t blame the guys; they knew you and Kageyama had ended on good terms but also that your relationship had been a sore subject and ultimately the reason you left sports photography.

You had to admit, when Kuroo first mentioned Tobio, a fact he’d somehow forgotten to mention prior to your meeting, you’d thought about dropping out, the idea of seeing your ex-boyfriend and the only man you’d ever loved extremely painful. However, you couldn’t ignore the small part of you that was also excited to see him in person. Sure, you’d watched every game you could, every interview possible. You’d watched the Olympics and even bought a jersey to add to your collection, something you’d never ever let anyone see.

“It’s fine guys,” you explained, “really I’m happy to be a part of this.”

Everyone nodded, not wanting to push the topic. While the guys had always been chaotic and kind of childish, they did care for your well-being, and they loved you.

“Now we let’s get these photos done!”

“Alright, the greatest first!” Atsumu beamed and Inunaki laughed.

“You should be last Sumu, you’ll probably break YN’s camera!” Everyone laughed at Sumu’s expense as you felt the joy of being reunited with the people you once spent so much time with.

*2 weeks later*

You arrived at the stadium, camera and press badge in hand as you adjusted your dress. You’d done your hair and makeup, wanting to look nice and professional for the event. This would be the first game you’d photographed in years, and you wanted to make a good impression. The crowds roared as you entered the gym, the bright lights hitting you as you looked around to see reporters, tv crews and officials fill the gym floor.

Kuroo waved at you as you walked over to him, noticing how truly huge the event was.

“You look great Yn! Absolutely gorgeous!” Kuroo yelled, the noise on the stadium floor loud as you blushed as his compliment.

“This is amazing Tetsuro! You really pulled this off!” Kuroo beamed with pride as you looked around, the photos you’d taken of the the players printed on banners that filled the stadium. You’re eyes trailed until they landed on Tobio’s banner, his face exactly as you remembered it. You smiled a little, looking around at the crowds.

Daichi, Suga, Asahi, Yamaguchi, Tsukki and Yachi all waved as you smiled and vigorously waved back, excited to see your old teammates.

You saw Kenma in his box, probably waiting for Kuroo as he gave you a chin lift and returned back to his phone. You noticed others from high school in the stands as you stood in the grandness of the court. You’d truly missed this feeling.

The whistle blew as Kuroo squeezed your arm and excused himself. You took your place on the side of the court as the teams were finally presented.

Team A parades out first, their flashy style of green and black jersey’s adding just the right pop of color. Oikawa and Hinata smiled and waved at you as you snapped their pictures, capturing the best angles you could.

Team B followed shortly after, their gold uniforms giving the perfect amount of class and sophistication. You wanted as Ushiwaka, Bokuto and Hoshiumi strolled across the floor, Bokuto frantically waving to the crowd as you giggled at his boisterous spirit.

Your eyes shift to Joffe who followed and to Inunaki right after. You were checking your camera before looking up, your eyes dead locked on Tobio’s as he stopped mid stride, his eyes widening as of in shock.

Tobio knew he would see you here, after all, it was a big part of the reason he agreed to join in this reunion game. He had thought about you almost constantly since leaving years ago, hoping he’d once again get the chance to see your beautiful face. He’d been preparing for weeks, going over how he’d casually walk by you, nod his head and try to act cool. He’d even prepared a few things to say to you if the opportunity present itself.

However, all his past thoughts and plans went straight out the window upon seeing you. You stood there, more breathtaking than he’s ever imagined. Your hair and makeup were flawless and your outfit fit your body like a glove. His mind drifted back to all of the times he’d made you laugh, all the times you’d spent together since meeting in high school. His heart hammered thought his chest, his jersey feeling as thought it was rippling from the aftershock.

You stood there, a small smile on your gorgeous face as you lifted your camera to snap his picture. Your eyes watered upon seeing him, something you’d known would probably happen.

“Kageyama moves dude!” Yaku whisper shouted as Kageyama snapped back to reality, his brain processing that he was holding up the line of his teammates.

“Oh sorry-” he apologized as he glanced forward and made his way to the starting line. His mind emptied of every thought he’d had, filing instead with your imagine as it implanted itself in his brain. At the greeting line, he turned to see you now staring back at him, the same sweet smile he loved plastered on your flawless face.

You couldn’t help but smile at him. Tobio was almost exactly as you’d remembered him. Sure, he was a little bit bigger; he’d obviously gained some muscle and matured since living in Italy but deep down, he was still the same boy you’d remembered from high school. Your heart fluttered just watching him, the memories of all your time spent together flooding your brain.

“We’d like to welcome you all to tonight’s special match. Team A vs Team B, a mash up of Japan’s best!” The announcer rang as the crowds cheered. You quickly made work of snapping as many pictures as you could, moving from side to side to capture the men’s forms prior to the game.

You’d been known as a legend in the sports world, your talent for photography starting in high school and only furthering afterwards. Your photos made the cover of many Japanese magazines, thanks to help from Akaashi as well as covers world wide. Noya would often send you texts, showing you how he’d send your photos all across the globe on his travels. Even Hinata had snapped a selfie or two with your magazine covers.

Tobio watched as you worked, following your every move as he prepared to warm up. He loved how passionate you were about photography. Since moving to Italy, he’d continued to follow your career collecting magazines that features your photographs and following your instagram page. He never interacted with you but that didn’t mean he didn’t order prints and support whatever projects you partook in, donating money to fundraisers you sponsored.

As the warmups began, you took your place at the side of the court. You watched as Hinata, Goshiki, and Romero all spiked. Balls slammed on the floor as the memories of your days photographing volleyball continued to flood your mind. You chuckled as you remembered how many times you’d nearly been hit or how many times Tobio would pull you off the court because he didn’t trust someone not to harm you.

He’s been protective of you even in High school, Hinata often teasing him about how he treated you like you were made of glass. In hindsight, Hinata probably knew better than anyone that his best friend was in love with you way back in high school.

You turned back to see Kageyama holding a volleyball, his focus still on you as you exited the court for the teams to switch. He shifted his attention back to the spikers as he took his place near the net. You were caught in the moment, his beautiful and perfect set gliding through the air as Bokuto slammed it into the opposing court, the crowd cheering him on. Tobio hadn’t changed, not one bit.

The game started as you began maneuvering the court, trying to capture as many shots as possible. The energy was palpable as you moved all around. Set after set, you found yourself drawn into every single play, every single serve and spike. This is why you loved volleyball.

At the end of the game, you tried to compose yourself, coming down from the high of an incredible match. You’d managed to run through nearly three memory cards, taking well over a thousand pictures of just the game itself. The guys took pictures with fans after the match as interviewers and Tv personnel flocked to their sides.

However, your job was complete, the requirements set forth by Kuroo full-filled. You walked over to your camera bag and began to disassemble and put away your equipment. Unbeknownst to you, someone had followed you.

Tobio stood a mere two feet behind you, his eyes tracking your bent over form as he tried to gather up the courage to speak to you. He’d never had a problem speaking his mind, never an issue telling people what he thought but for some reason, his mouth was incredibly dry despite drinking an excessive amount of water.

He watched as you fiddled with your camera bag, the same bag he’d gifted you for graduation years ago. It was your favorite color and just the right size. His chest filled with pride knowing you were still using it, that you’d still been keeping him close.

While he was staring, you’d turned around, startling and grabbing your chest in surprise at the giant, 6’2” setter standing behind you.

“Good god Tobio you scared me!” You laughed, your hand over your chest as you tried to regain composure.

“I-damn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to- I was just wanting to… hi YN,” he finally stuttered out as you smiled up at him, his beautiful blue eyes lighting up with joy.

“Hi Tobio. Long time no see!”

“Yeah it’s been a while,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head, “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Me too! You did amazing out there. I’d forgotten how different seeing you playing in person was!” You added as he lowered his hand down.

“Seeing me in play in person?”

“Yeah silly, I told you’d I’d be watching you. I meant it. I’ve watched every game,” you answered. He knew you wouldn’t lie to him but just hearing you say it, after wondering for years if you were watching, it made him feel incredible.

“Hey Yn, I’m in town for another week, would you maybe consider having dinner with me?” He inquired, desperately hoping you’d agree to meet with him.

You eyes widened at his question. You hadn’t been expecting this, hadn’t been expecting him to ask you to dinner. You’d thought he might say something to you but never this. Before you could answer, he continued.

“If not it’s ok, it’s just that, well I’ve been thinking about you since I left, and I’d really like to catch up. But if you don’t want to-”

“I’d love to Tobio,” you replied as he jerked back a little.

“Wait really?” You giggled at his reaction as you nodded in confirmation.

“I’ve been thinking about you to, and I’d love to go out with you.” He smiled down at you as your beautiful doe eyes met his.

“Hey Kageyama! Come on man we are going out to celebrate!” Hinata shouted as he waved to you. You waved back as Kageyama looked conflicted between you and Hinata.

“Go and have fun, ok? Text me tomorrow and we will make a plan to meet,” you assured him, squeezing his bicep as he smiled back and nodded. He turned, running towards the locker rooms before stopping and turning back. He ran back up to you as you watched in confusion before being swept up into a tight hug, your body instantly relaxing as you hugged him back. Yep, you definitely missed this.

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seeyoulbleed · 1 year ago

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Fixation

For @the-slasher-files Bloodfest 2023 event!! Chose the prompt trap(s). Go check it out, it's open to everyone!!

Summary: You learn some unsettling things about what it means to be loved by a Uchiha, let alone Madara himself. gender-neutral reader. SFW.

"It's a bit hot, so be careful-" You jinx yourself, your long pant legs tripping you. Down you go, scalding water splashing your hand. Tender is the flesh that it spills off of, red and welling and all too vulnerable.

He's there within a moment, catching your hand gently in his, tugging you into his grasp before you can truly tumble to the floor. Madara lets the porcelain teapot he bought for your birthday shatter across the tatami mats, his focus only on you.

You hate it when he looks at you like this.

Fathomless black eyes pinning you in place, the butterfly to his all-knowing gaze, the glimmer of red you catch piercing you right through. Saying Madara Uchiha is an intimidating man is a gross understatement, one that fails to truly encompass everything that he is. There's something primordial to the very air around him, something old and heavy that presses in on you to keep you in place.

You think he knows what he does to you. Knows how he's the hawk to your rabbit, caught in his talons. He's trying so hard to be soft, to be tame, as he calls for a healer. All is silent as he sits you down far from the mess. You look everywhere but him, a flush crawling up your neck. Does he have to stare?

"I apologize. I do not wish you discomfort."

Your mouth goes dry and you duck your head. You hadn't realized you'd said it out loud. But you always do forget yourself when you're with him- it's what made this...whatever this is, all the more concerning. Despite the improperness of the whole thing, he's moved you into the Uchiha complex, right within his own chambers. He's never done anything untoward, has been even kind in his own way, but there is not a doubt in your mind he is biding his time.

For what? He already has you. What is he waiting for?

The healer comes rushing in, startling you out of your thoughts. It makes you jump, and that makes Madara turn that heavy gaze of his onto the woman. You peek from the corner of your eyes and watch in real-time as fear strikes her, her elderly face turning ashen as she begs his pardon. He grants her the reprieve in the form of focusing on your hand.

"Heal it."

The healer nods, her once Uchiha black hair now a withered grey that twists out of her face in a simple braid. Familiar black eyes don't bother to look at you, only at your wound, her crepe paper-thin skinned hands trembling, unwilling to touch you fully.

Madara hears something you cannot, red filling the black of his eyes. The tomoe spins lazily in ire.

"Stay here. I will return shortly." His hand hovers by your cheek, his fingertips brushing the curve of it light as a feather. It twitches, something deeper in his eyes that you refuse to acknowledge flickering to life. Like a candle, it's snuffed out before you can pretend it was never there.

He's gone within a blink and it is only you and the healer.

Her chakra is mint green where it coats your skin, the healing energy flowing through you and remaking your cells anew. How it truly worked escaped you as most ninja arts do but its soft color entrances you. So used to black and red, you had nearly forgotten such a gentle color.

"The way he loves you...I will never understand it," The healer admits in a whisper.

"He does not love me." You reply, tone empty. "Not the way you believe."

"It may not be a love you understand, but he loves you all the same. An Uchiha loves with every breath. Every pulse of his veins belongs to you. It may appear twisted, but it is the way we love."

"It's just some kind of fixation. You said it yourself you don't understand his love."

She licks her lips and takes a moment to think of her next words, the green chakra sputtering out as the last of your skin heals. "He has always been an intense man. A devoted man. I do not doubt he loves you, I doubt he knows how to control it. And that surprises me most of all given all that he is."

"Why are you telling me this?" You mutter, taking your hand back. You flex it, watching the new skin with trepidation building in your gut.

"I'm warning you. Do not think things will stay as they are. You sleep in his room but the clan elders whisper how he has yet to bed you. They whisper how he has yet to bring up wedding plans, and yet he has ordered bands from the Land of Iron. This moment of peace you are living in will not last and you will come to know what it truly means to be loved by a Uchiha, let alone one like my Lord."

You drop your hand. Blood has spilled from where you bit into your cheek, a sudden rage filling you.

"I never asked nor agreed to any of this."

She gives you a pitying look. "Nobody ever does. But love comes and takes from us all the same."

#madara uchiha x reader #madara uchiha x you #madara uchiha imagine #red writes #naruto x reader #idk what else to tag

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staycalmandhugaclone · 11 months ago

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Identity Pt 8

Part (8) of Identity, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

At a whopping 27,000 words, this accidentally became the biggest arc in the series. Oops. Anyway, I've certainly been a bit possessed about getting it done, so here yuh go!

Warnings: Honestly, aside from the standard guilt and regret, this chapter is mostly fluff

WC: 2,913

He held me until my breath eased back into a quiet, rhythmic ebb and flow free of even the occasional hitched gasp. At some point, he’d shifted just enough to lean his shoulder against the wall, hand lightly clasped around the back of my neck as his fingers trailed absently atop the skin peaking out between my blacks and hairline. Part of me knew I shouldn’t stay like this; that hiding against him only delayed confronting the guilt I’d see in Wolffe’s eyes, the trepidation and doubt in Cody’s, but it was so easy to pretend otherwise, to keep my face nestled against his throat and let all thought of what responsibility awaited us beyond those walls fade as seconds turned into minutes.

A crippling realization struck me in that moment. I was hiding. I was hiding from the risk of another mission and another near disaster. I was hiding from the damage that had already been caused and the inevitable destruction still awaiting me. I was hiding from the certainty that even worse might be befall those around me at any moment; doubtless of just how effortlessly that might break whatever fleeting reserves of strength somehow managed to keep me going through all that had already happened, and I knew that that very fear of them getting hurt was likely the only thing keeping me from yielding that I might be there to help them in any way I could.

But it wasn’t just the fear of impending nightmares that kept me curled in the arms of a man I remembered hiding from so many months prior, back when we were strangers and I shied from the intensity that burned in his eyes when faced with even a simple question; the deep quiet he’d fall into while considering every aspect of a problem before coming to a decision, and the unease that would fill me at the mere thought of finding myself the subject of that frightening focus. So much had happened since then, and I couldn’t bring myself to feel anything but grateful for his presence in that moment, for the calm he granted me even as reality seemed to shift with a wretched understanding.

I was hiding from Wolffe; from the way his voice had threatened to break when last we spoke, from the tension that stole the effortless visage of command from him whenever we’d found ourselves alone. I was hiding from the squad that I could no longer think of as mine, from the longing in their eyes for a time that was now gone and would never again grant us the incredible breadth of comfort once gleaned from the sense of family we had found in each other, now felt only with a nostalgia tarnished by the horrors filling these past few days.

I wanted to weep anew at the thought of those coming farewell’s weighted beneath guilt and regret and the want for a denial we knew to be useless. In that moment, I longed to let myself be weak; to beg Hunter to tell Wolffe to leave that I wouldn’t have to face him at all, and I hated myself for that weakness.

The gentle dance of his touch stilled; fingers half buried in my hair as he subtly turned his gaze toward me; waiting. I drew a slow, resigned breath, held it in a final plea for even a few seconds’ more of a delay, and finally let it out in a controlled sigh as I pulled away from him.

“Thank you.” I whispered, eyes raising to just glimpse his. His thumb swept once more along the length of my neck before finally letting his hand fall briefly to my arm and then to the floor near his waist.

“Don’t need to thank me, Doc.” He replied softly, attention carefully locked on me. My lips drew up in an empty smile as I turned to glance thoughtlessly around the room. When I began to draw movement back into my limbs, weight shifting to balance atop a knee in preparation of forcing myself to my feet, Hunter quickly reached back out to me, arm looping around my shoulders as though anticipating the way my muscles would instantly waver at that first hint of strain. I was no stranger to the way grief and fear and panic left one so hopelessly drained yet always found myself unprepared for how ruthlessly that exhaustion struck. Unphased, I leaned into his support; let myself rely on his strength in the absence of my own as he carefully pulled me up alongside him.

“If we stay in here much longer, they might get the wrong idea.” I muttered, peaking towards him to see the way his brow cocked in surprise, but he let out a quiet chuckle at the weary smirk I managed to shoot him.

“The last thing I need is Crosshair hearing those kinds of rumors from regs…” He grumbled back, and I was shocked at how easily the huff of laughter escaped me. “Are you okay to walk?” He asked, voice dropping into a whisper as though that might prevent it from robbing us of that brief, precious moment of lightness. I nodded, forcing my back straight despite the reluctance weighing down my shoulders. “Alright.” He murmured and I tried to ignore the chill left in the wake of his touch as he slowly stepped away from me.

Whatever conversation had filled the silence beyond the office walls ceased with a harsh finality the instant that door began to open. I could feel Hunter standing just behind me, attention still following my every movement as though I might tumble without warning. Cody was the first to approach me, helm tucked under his arm and expression still somehow void of the disappointment I kept expecting to find.

“Commander, I-” He dismissed whatever attempt at an apology I was still trying to piece together with a simple wave of his hand and subtle shake of his head.

“Just get to the barracks and try to get some rest.” The innate authority in his voice was softened by a compassion that I still found myself shocked to hear from someone in his position and could only respond with a small nod.

“I can come back tomorrow – answer any other questions you have.” I offered, but he again dismissed it.

“Between what you’ve already told me and what I discussed with Commander Wolffe, there’s no need for that. Just take some time; try not to lose yourself in what happened.” He barely whispered those final words, willing them into me with a quiet understanding that I couldn’t begin to pretend I didn’t need. He ducked his head in a small bow before stepping past me into his office, and I hesitated just a moment longer before turning toward Wolffe.

“Guess I overestimated myself.” I mumbled, voice straining past the stiffness in my jaw, and I wasn’t sure how to respond to the subtle feeling of Hunter’s hand coming to rest against the armor sweeping across my lower back, nor my inability to deny the depth of comfort it gave me.

“No one’s holding that against you.” He replied softly before his gaze shifted to the man behind me. “Take care of her.” There was none of that disdain he’d once regarded Hunter with; no sneer of disapproval, and Hunter mirrored that unspoken respect with a silent nod.

“Wolffe.” I called hesitantly just as he’d begun to walk away, nearly cringing at the remorse in my own voice; the threat of shame. “I don’t… Will you tell the others I’ll be okay? I just… I can’t…” How could I explain the way it would cripple me to see their guilt again? To hear their apologies despite knowing they’d done nothing to warrant such sorrow?

“Don’t worry about them.” He explained, voice quiet but no less commanding for it. “Just be safe, kid.” There… just lingering beneath that infallible composure… Even Wolffe couldn’t keep the traces of an apology from his farewell. Gaze falling lest I note even a glimmer of regret in those stern eyes, I fought to offer some trace of a smile before turning away. The sense of finality in that farewell left my breath trembling slightly, and even the way Hunter shifted nearer to me did little to ease the sense of loss twisting through my chest.

“Cody’s already granting us clearance for the mission details.” He didn’t look at me when he said it, gaze once more hidden behind that dark visor as we walked unhurried through the corridors of the Negotiator. “You don’t have to, but if you want to talk about it…” My head fell slightly at the gentle invitation, and I knew he could hear how my heartbeat quickened at the mere thought. When I gave no answer, he didn’t press, but I couldn’t dispel the tension that lingered in the silence between us.

“I don’t think Wrecker’s ever going to let you go off on another mission without us.” He added a moment later, somehow managing to sow a wisp of humor into his voice, and a small scoff escaped me.

“Even if it’s the 104th calling you again?” There was something beneath the teasing lilt in his voice, but I was too weary to try to name it.

“Given my track record, I don’t think he’ll hear any arguments from me…” I grumbled.

“I didn’t know I’d be working with them this time until after I’d boarded the transport.” His helm shifted toward me, and I could easily picture the way his brows had surely risen above eyes widened with surprise. “But, no.” I added quietly, pace unchanged as I tried not to think too deeply on the painful words slipping over my tongue. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to work with them again.” Hunter stopped walking. I didn’t, intent on not falling back into the remorse that was all too eager to overwhelm me again.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, treading back to my side. I gave a weak shrug, collecting my thoughts a moment before responding.

“Too much has changed… Besides, they have a jedi watching their backs. Without me, you lot only have dumb luck and sheer stubbornness.” A quiet chuckle just sounded through his comm system, and I found myself joining him in with a snicker of my own as his hand reached up to lightly jostle my helmet. It was heartbreaking – that conscious understanding that I no longer belonged with the 104th, but I had harbored no doubts that it was the right choice; that the 99 had become my family in a way the others never could.

“Doc!” Wrecker’s shout boomed through the nearly empty barracks, and I barely had time to draw in breath for a reply I never got to speak before his arms locked around my waist to hoist me up in an embrace far softer than his normal hugs. Still, laughter sputtered from my lips at the welcomed display of affection I would always treasure from the man, hand automatically darting out to his shoulder to steady myself despite the knowledge that he’d never let me fall.

“It’s almost like you missed me or something.” I teased, earning a brilliant smile from him that was so utterly free of shame or hesitation as he gently set me back down.

“Those regs need to find their own nat-born next time! It’s not fair for them to just come and steal yuh away whenever they want.” He complained, hands lingering on my hips for just a moment longer to ensure I was steady before stepping back.

Two rows of double bunks stretched out before me in a room designed to hold at least a company of one hundred though the entirety of it had been reserved for our tiny squad. Crosshair stood leaning against one of the upper bunks a few rows away with his arms wrapped tightly across his chest, attention locked on me from the corner of his eye while Echo and Tech sat together atop a lower cot a mere handful of strides from the door, the telltale mess of cables strewn between them warning of some half-started project.

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.” I reassured him in a gentle sigh. “Pretty sure this was a one-time thing.” I could see the concern lingering in his gaze despite his efforts to hide it beneath his usual glee, the subtle threat of anger it fueled, and had to look away.

“Hey stranger.” I said softly. His chest bucked slightly around a sharp breath, mouth just beginning to open before closing tightly in a final bout of hesitation, but then he let out a small huff, forcing some of that tightness from his shoulders.

The instant I glimpsed him, the arc quick pushed himself to his feet, eyes torn between meeting my gaze and darting away as his jaw tensed around whatever attempt at a greeting caught in his throat. Had he been there when I first landed? Had I simply been too lost in my own thoughts to notice? My heart sank at the thought, just managing to offer the ghost of a smile in the face of how stiffly he held himself.

“Hey.” He whispered, and I heard clearly the apology in it, but it was nothing like those plaguing every word uttered amongst the 104th. There was a warmth in his apology; a subtle self-deprecation softened with something near enough to humor that my smile bloomed with relief.

“I see you two have been making the most of this little vacation.” I started, looking pointedly at the assortment of mysteriously procured supplies. He glanced quickly over his shoulder as though he’d forgotten the project entirely before turning back to me.

“Echo suggested a few interesting modifications to his cybernetic legs.” Tech stated before his brother could try to explain. “This is merely the initial prototype. Rebuilding his legs entirely will take significantly longer than a few days, but this will allow us to test the efficiency of our new design.” I looked back to the arc with surprise and found him fighting a sheepish grin.

My head fell toward my chest, stomach churning with regret for having offered at all despite Tech’s automatic “thank you.” Swallowing back the anxiety threatening to coil through my gut, I finally let myself glance toward the tall sniper still watching me from just the corner of his eye, and the little thrill of glee that seeing him shot through me offered a precious sliver of relief. He barely reacted as I approached him, head just shifting to follow my movements until barely a foot lay between us, and I let out a heavy sigh full of mock guilt and remorse.

“Wow.” I chirped, pleased to hear they’d managed to be so productive despite how strained things had been over the past few weeks, “Let me know if you need any help synching it to the neural interface.” Echo’s face darkened for barely the breadth of a heartbeat, but it was enough to remind me that the effortless connection that once came so easily to us still lay far beyond my grasp.

“I may have jinxed myself.” I muttered, and a quiet chuckle escaped me at the way he cocked his brow, unimpressed by my admission. “Was I right? Did you mope the entire time I was gone?”

“Yes.” Hunter called from the front of the barracks, kindling my chuckle into a short burst of laughter as Cross shot his brother a lethal glare.

“Just got back and you’re already trying to cause trouble.” He growled under his breath, earning a coy smirk from me. Only then did he begin to abandon that impartial veneer, weight shifting as he pushed himself away from the bunks to reach for me, and I could feel my entire body lighten with the deep sigh that fled my lips at that first rush of warmth from his embrace.

“Are you okay?” He asked, words barely audible as they danced through my hair. The rote reassurance so nearly fell from my lips absent a moment’s thought before catching in my throat. I could feel him tense in those brief seconds of hesitation before I reluctantly shook my head.

“Not yet.” I answered, voice heavy with every unspoken reason forbidding me from trying to convince him otherwise. “But I’m really glad to be back.” He went still for a long moment, but then his arms tightened almost harshly around me, body curling over mine as though he might hide me from what darkness lingered behind the veil of empty smiles.

We both knew there would be no walking away from the damage wrought during my time apart from them, but I let myself relish that moment of stillness; the hum of quiet conversation between Hunter and Wrecker, the rhythmic clicks and hisses of tools augmenting metal and wire beneath Echo and Tech’s ministrations, the steady thrum of Crosshair’s heartbeat dancing against me as I rested my forehead to his neck, shamelessly letting myself vanish in that heady spice and tang of blasterfire. Every day spent fighting this war brought untold risks and dangers, but I held no reservations that this was exactly where I belonged, and no threat was great enough to see me leave them for even a moment more.

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m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s · 6 months ago

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Another day, another chronicle my friends

A short one but a good one indeed.

Enjoy :)

—

Word Count: 595 words

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, rebirth (all mentioned, but not detailed), the slightest hint of angst, major comfort and fluff

Genre: Fluff, comfort

Notes: This chronicle relates to snippet #5, so if you would like some more context, you can read that snippet first. Not required, but it’ll allow for more understanding of what’s going on. :)

—

chronicle III - mermaids

—

Bucky hated movie nights.

Or at least he thought he did.

Bucky was starting to think time went by faster in this god forsaken tower.

It was another movie night.

This time accompanied by the charm and dreamy atmosphere of Disney.

It was supposed to be a “bonding” experience.

Bucky kept trying to refer back to that as he watched the others fight over what magical movie to watch this evening.

“Everyone knows you watch Cinderella on Disney night.”

“That’s just a rule you made up, Stark.”

Bucky wondered if Nat ever grew tired of Stark. He wondered if everyone wanted to punch his lights out every few days.

Or maybe that was just a Bucky thing.

“Can we watch Winnie the Pooh? Please?”

“No Sam. No one wants to watch a bear eat honey.”

Bucky usually tuned this out, but for some reason this time around, he found it humorous in a way.

Even if Sam and Clint going back and forth about a bear eating honey was annoying.

So much for bonding.

It was a miracle they had actually picked a movie.

Some movie about a girl who was a mermaid, but wanted to become a human.

It was another miracle that everyone had already fallen asleep.

Bonding or not, Bucky was already planning his escape. He would slowly creep over Nat and Clint, making sure to miss Clint’s hand that was still reaching for the popcorn in his snoring slumber. Then, he would bypass Bruce and Stark on the couch, avoiding Steve and Sam at the end of the-

“Who’s that?”

He would have jolted.

He should have.

This time around though, she was wearing dog pajama pants.

“I’m sorry?”

“The mermaid. Who is she?”

Bucky had almost forgotten there was a movie playing.

“Oh, uh- I think her name is Ariel. She’s trying to become a human.”

She hummed, slowly creeping over to the empty spot next to Bucky.

This happened last month.

At first, he wasn’t quite sure what to think. Another person to join him in his own personal brand of hell, aka movie night. More minds to churn the idea of another month gone by in the tower.

Yet…

He was finding he didn’t mind it so much.

“She kind of looks like me.”

Bucky followed V’s finger, pointed at the cartoonish hair flowing down the mermaid’s back.

The mermaid’s was angelic, pure.

The color of innocence.

V’s was similar, save for the white streaks in the front.

V’s was darker though. Cherry red, garnet red.

Blood red.

The color of rebirth. Life anew.

“She does.”

Bucky liked V’s hair though.

“It’s pretty. The mermaid’s hair.”

He hummed in agreement.

He wasn’t looking at the cartoonish movie.

“So is yours.”

He truly hadn’t meant for it to come out.

He’d promised himself he would just leave it alone, let the past die.

Everything else had, so why couldn’t this?

But Steve hadn’t.

Neither did V.

“Oh- thank you.”

It was warm, comforting. Her smile.

The cycle of life was anew for Bucky. The past had died, corroded away, stayed in the past as it should have.

The cartoonish mermaid kept swimming on screen, dancing and singing to some silly tune.

This time around, Bucky did forget there was a movie playing all together.

Maybe movie nights weren’t really about movies with mermaids after all.

Maybe it was about sitting next to pretty girls in dog pajama pants. Who had warm smiles and mermaid-like hair.

Maybe movie nights weren’t so bad after all.

And Bucky decided he liked that idea.

—

people who think would like to see this: @hellothere-generalangsty @eyecandyeoz @monako-jinn-stories @chaoticvampirejedi @ahsokasleftbicep

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xticklemeemox · 11 months ago

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The Love You Want: II, Part One

Summary:

II wanted to be acknowledged. To be seen for all the effort he puts into every part of his life. Sleep offers him that

Asks him to become a vessel, the Second.

Asks him to fulfill the wish of their First, Vessel, his wish to be loved.

There was something about Vessel that drew II in, like a moth to a flame. Finding out just how damaged Vessel is doesn't make II run, it makes him want to stay.

Part two of The Love You Want series, detailing II's acceptance of Sleep and transformation into a Vessel, and just how quickly the two came to care for each other.

They were destined for it, to love and be loved in return, and no amount of hesitation or fear on Vessel's part could stop the entwining of their souls.

Tags: hurt/comfort, self-harm, mutual pining, implied/referenced past domestic abuse, implied referenced past parental neglect, religious themes, suicide, murder, self-worth issues, Vessel Has A Bad Time™️, so does II but he's got Vessel =D, Temporary Character Death, eventual polyvessels. Eventual II/Vessel.

Ngl this fic was supposed to be more slow burn than this but II said nuh uh I will be loving and adoring Vessel and if anything happens to him I will kill everyone in this room and then myself

Word count: 10,223

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Ao3

They came to him in a dream as he was teetering on the edge of life and death.

He remembered choking, gasping for breath as his own blood bubbled past his lips as he coughed it up and back onto himself. There was a knife in his chest, his wallet nowhere to be seen. He hurt, knees bruised and palms scraped as his lungs burned with a fire he'd never felt before. A bruise blossoming along his jaw and the back of his head felt... wet. Darkness at the edge of his vision encroaching quickly. His life before this had been mundane, working a job he hated and focusing on his drumming hobby in his free time. Cutting through an alley to get home faster had cost him his life, but he was so tired, eager to get home after his boss kept him overtime promising to pay, when he knows the man just likes to see him suffer and not pay him his dues. He didn't let that stop him from fighting tooth and nail against his robber though, hopes they have to go to the hospital for the broken jaw and nose, and the teeth marks in his arm. Maybe he would've lived another day, but there's no point in dwelling on it now. He's dead, or close to it anyway.

They came to him. Asked him to be born anew as he floated in a vast expanse of stars, weightless as Their voice echoed around him, an amalgamation of every voice he had ever heard. "Will you be my vessel through which my message will be spread? I can give you everything you've ever wanted, if you accept me into your mind, your body, and your soul."

"You want me to be your vessel? To spread your message? Who are you? What about my cat Elvira? I can't leave her, she's my beloved pet." He raises an eyebrow, looking around him at the beauty of the stars as a small sense of wonder flows through him.

"I am Sleep, though that is not my true name. It cannot be spoken by any era of your race, ancient as it is. I suppose you can keep your so-called pet, though I do not understand its purpose."

"Sleep? Like, literal sleep?" Theres a pause, "Why do you want me?"

"In truth, I want you to be a companion of my first Vessel. Your musical abilities and loving soul wrapped in steel drew me in, and you would make an almost perfect fit as a vessel of mine. Alas, I did not need more than one Vessel, so I chose the most perfect one, my First vessel. But, he has experienced a great deal of pain in his life. In exchange for being my Vessel, my First, he has asked to be loved. With your help, I will give him the love of the world through his music in which he worships me and brings new followers. I will gain more worshippers from this, ultimately, with more than one of you. Admittedly, I have endeavored to grant his wish on a more personal level."

"What, so I'm going to help your first vessel with his music career and in return gain, what, exactly? What do I get out of this?"

"What is your wish?"

Thinking on it, the answer comes to him easily with a tilt of his head. "I wish to be acknowledged for my talents, I suppose."

"I can grant you that in more ways than one. Through your worship, yourself and my vessel will gain fame and prosperity. I foresee many worshippers will love you for your talents. My vessel will know your skill, adept in music as he is. His nature, his experiences, will allow him to acknowledge your talents and the effort you put into every part of your life."

"Why do you want to help this first vessel of yours so much anyway? You seem confident that he will acknowledge me. Not many in my life ever have."

"I cannot understand pain. I do not feel it, cannot even imagine it. I am hoping as his companion, you, and eventually some others, will love him in whatever capacity you all can. He has never once been loved in his short life, broken down by those who were supposed to love him, and in his despair ended his life, bringing him to me. You're a caring soul who can help him take care of himself, and he needs that most of all. There is no question of the lengths he will go to be loved."

"Show me him." He decides, warming up to the idea quickly.

He was alone in his apartment with just his cat for company. His last relationship ended amicably, but there was always something missing from every one he'd ever had. Maybe this way he won't be so alone.

"Very well."

The expanse around him shrinks down to a small galaxy in front of him, and in that swirling void of stars, a moving image forms. A masked man sits on the floor, leaned against a wall. No part of his face is visible but there is a mess of dark hair spilling out over the sides of the mask. Something hypnotizing about him, pulling him under with every passing moment. There is a pen and journal in his hands, and as the man watches Vessel, he can hear a beautiful, sad tune being hummed. Then, he begins to sing quietly, the lyrics on the paper before him forming a haunting melody.

"The daylight recedes in unison, this room buries the hours like death in motion, nobody else can pull me out, the fields of elation, quiet and loamy~"

His voice is gorgeous, bouncing off the walls with its strength and control. There is despair clawing it's way out from his throat, overcast by the bitter hope, golden tears dripping from the bottom of the mask. The first vessel lifts it enough for his lips to show and a shaky exhale falls from the onlookers lips as pale skin and bitten lips are revealed to him.

Angel bite piercings glint in the fading sunlight as the mask is put back in place. There's an aching in his soul, as though some part of him calls out to the sad man sitting all alone in a bare room, singing with the most beautiful voice he has ever heard.

Unable to look away, even as the image fades, the man speaks his answer before the God has any chance to say anything. There's something drawing him in. Something about that man. He has never felt anything like it, and wants to know him. He has to. Something in him demands it. Craves it. Aches for him. He would consider it scary if it didn't feel so right.

"I accept. I will become your second vessel. What do I have to do?"

The universe around him changes. Within a blink, he is laying on a beach. Sand surrounds him and sticks to his messy hair as he sits up quickly. The waves nearby are loud, crashing onto shore gently and receding. The sky above him is cloudy, dark masses swirling above and across the grey expanse, just barely visible in the night. Above him, a large moon hangs, its glowing rays never touching the ground he sits upon, like a barrier stops it.

He sits in a circle of candles, their yellow flame the only illumination around.

"An offering of your blood will suffice, and in return I will grant you some of my power as I did my first."

"A blood offering? That's it?" Raising an eyebrow, he can't help but think this all seems a bit underwhelming.

He's accepting a God into his mind, body, and soul, and all they require is a little blood?

"Much of my essence was given to the First, as was required. We are not being connected in quite the same way, so the requirements are different. Blood will suffice."

"Fine, what do I do?"

An ornate plate materializes next to him, and on it, a sharp knife with a simple wooden hilt.

"Do not be alarmed, and look away before too long passes."

The moon splinters at the bottom, six black eyes blinking open at once along its surface to stare down at him. From the gaping hole still slowly splintering apart, dark tendrils emerge, thick masses that taper down to a point, and they head right towards him. He only watches for a moment, looking away, down at the sand, like Sleep ordered. He wonders if his mind would have survived looking any longer.

"Offer every bit of blood you have to me. I will replace it with my essence."

"All of it? Won't that kill me?"

"You are already dead. You need to become something more than human. Do not fret, my first did the same thing."

"Did he also need to cut into his own arm and let himself bleed out?"

"No, he did not offer up his blood in the same way. If I had asked him to, he could have with ease. My first is quite used to making himself bleed."

Horror fills him at the blatant implications of what that means. He could tell the first vessel was depressed, had killed himself, but to be so in pain that he brought even more of it to himself on purpose? Steeling his resolve, he picks up the knife. This first vessel was likely going to continue following a dark path, and he wants to help steer him from it. His soul demands it.

He's shaking as he brings the knife to his wrist. This is a small price to pay for the power of a God, he tries to reason with himself. He'll be granted fame and finally be acknowledged for his talents and efforts. He'll be gaining someone who will see him for who he is, accept him. Sleep promised that.

"Will I remember any of this?" He asks, wincing as the first drag of the blade up his vein stings and burns with fire.

He continues as Sleep answers, blood spilling over his arm up to his elbow before he moves on to the next arm. The tendrils snake their way around his bleeding arm, and a strange feeling emits from the limb, a tingling like the limb has fallen asleep but the pain remains.

"You will remember only that I have asked you to help bring worshippers my message by helping my first Vessel. You will tell him the same, and your wish when you accepted. You will not remember anything else. I do not understand humans, but from what I've witnessed through their dreams and nightmares, I fear that if I tell him your purpose is to love him, he will never trust you nor accept it."

"Hm, that makes sense. He might have some issues then, but I'm perfectly willing to help him with them, if he'll let me. He's- I've never seen someone radiate such bone-deep sadness before. I want to help him."

Other arm done, he can feel himself growing dizzy. Its much like when he bled to his death before being brought to this dream by the god of Sleep. It unsettles him, to be so close to that feeling again, knowing his bloodstream was emptying on purpose this time somehow making it... worse.

"That is all I can ask for. I need him alive, as connected as we are, but I want him happy. I do not understand your human emotions well, but if his soul is singing in joy, then his chances of living rise exponentially. He- Is my First Vessel, and very dear to me."

Humming, the man sinks to his knees before the offering plate, weak knees giving out on him. Through blurring vision, an apple appears on the plate as the tendrils recede. One remains wrapped around his torso to steady him as he sways. "Eat the apple of Eden, taste the divine, and accept me into your soul. When you awaken, you will be at the edge of my domain in your human lands. My first knows of your arrival."

A nod is all he can manage as he reaches forth, picking up the apple and bringing it to his lips. The texture is as any apple should be, but the juice tastes of iron, and when he pulls it away from his mouth, blood spills over onto his hand, his own blood. He continues eating. The taste is wonderful, and no food he can remember tastes anything like it. He can't imagine anything ever will.

This is the taste of the divine, and he wishes nothing more than to bask in the flavor forever, but alas the apple is soon gone, all except for the core which has a strange texture he finds he doesn't care for. It pulses gently as he sets it down and he wonders what exactly it is.

Time is... strange here, even stranger still as blood lingers on his tongue. It flows slowly, like wading through knee-high mud and yet some moments, when his mind is particularly foggy, its like a river, fast, harsh, and unrelenting in its pace.

He finds he cannot remember his name. Cannot remember the faces of his parents. His- mothers? Did he have two mothers? He did, he knows he did. What did they look like? The image of them smiling at him slips from his grasp as he tries desperately to hold on. No, he can't remember. Can't recall any of his childhood friends, or his drumming teacher, he can't remember anything except his cat, and the pain of every failed relationship, be it platonic or romantic. The pain of no one ever acknowledging how much time and effort, blood and tears, went into perfecting his drumming, of- of how deeply he tried, with his entire being,, heart and soul, at everything he's ever done in his life.

Vision darkening, he falls back, the tendrils letting him go with no amount of gentleness. Tears spill from his eyes, but he can't tell if they're from sadness or joy, the mix of emotions swirling inside him like that galaxy he floated in before.

"Rest now, II. When you wake, you must find I and my manor."

Slipping away into sleep, his name, his title, his position, sticks out.

Two. II.

When II awakens, who he was before ceased to be. He couldn't remember his name. The faces of his mothers. Of his boss who used to torment him day in and day out. Couldn't remember the face of the man who killed him for his wallet and the $20 bill inside. He remembered the pain, the agony, the fear. II remembered accepting Sleep, what they offered to him. Fame, recognition for just how much of himself he puts into everything he does.

A meow reaches him, a weight on his chest becoming apparent as his mind fully wakes up. Blinking his blue eyes open, II comes face to face with his fluffy black cat Elvira. She sits on his chest, her own face up close to his. Meowing again, she rubs her head against his chin and he holds her close as he sits up. On one side of him is a vast forest, and on the other a small, beat up old car sits, behind it a road leading off into a clearer space. The sun is low in the sky, the sunset casting brilliant colors of red, orange, and pink over the canopies above him.

A mask sits in his lap, a simple black cloth material with a strange symbol, Sleep's he realizes, printed in white over the face. Slipping it on with some difficulty while still holding Elvira, something settles in his chest. The mask feels right, like he was meant to wear it.

There is a pull in the direction of the forest, leading him off into the distance. So, II begins walking after a small glance back at the desolate car. The trees are easy enough to navigate through, but roots catch his feet every few minutes or so. At some point it was simply safer to let Elvira walk beside him rather than hold her in case he falls.

Silence surrounds him as he walks, except for the quiet sound of crunching underbrush below foot. He walks for what feels like hours, mind and body both lagging from the strain of accepting his new god, just barely managing not to fall. The light from the sun fades completely at some point, but II continues on into the darkness, following that tether in his chest. He stumbles more often, sticking closer to trees to try and balance himself. A stray root catches his foot and he goes tumbling over with a cry. Elvira meows from somewhere beside him and II closes his eyes and tries to brace for impact with his arms.

There is a cold hand on his arm, keeping him steady and helping him to his feet. Despite the unexpected touch, II's body does not jerk away in fear, nor does his mind devolve into terror. It should have, given the circumstances, but his body and mind seem to be in agreement with his very soul that sings at the touch.

The hand helps him right himself, grip strong but so gentle that II automatically leans into it just slightly. "I can see in the dark, do not fret. Come, I will lead you back to the manor."

The voice belonging to the hand is soft and soothing, calming whatever nerves had been building up in the silence. "I'm Sleep's first, my name is Vessel. Do you have a name yet?"

There is a quiet uncertainty, a hesitant fear in the other man's voice and II finds he wants to comfort him. Vessel does not need to be wary of him, and II is desperate for the man to know that.

"I've decided on II, like the number in roman numerals. This is my cat Elvira. Sleep said you would know of my arrival but I thought I was supposed to find the manor myself." II gestures lightly at himself, then around him for emphasis.

"I couldn't let you traverse this forest alone in the dark. I did, when I arrived, and it isn't pleasant alone. I walked in circles for hours, fell over every root there was, I think, before I finally found my way, though the pull in my chest tried to guide me. The walk here was much shorter this time." Vessel is quiet still, like he's afraid of being too loud, of disturbing the air around him with his voice.

His steps are quiet too, silent even, II can't even hear him or his breathing. The only indicator that the man is there at all is the gentle, guiding touch on his bicep. II should be afraid, but he isn't. He cannot even see the man, doesn't even know what he looks like. Was he given a mask like II's?

"I hope my cat doesn't bother- Oh shit, is she still following us? I can't see her." II panics, jerking his head around and squinting very hard at the ground like he'll be able to see in the dark suddenly.

"Calm down, its alright. I'm holding her in my other arm right now. A sweet thing isn't she? Not tried to bite or scratch me once."

Vessel's soothing tone, when he's actually trying to soothe, works wonders alongside his words. II laughs, calmer now, the loud sound startling Vessel into jerking back but keeping his hand steady, "Lucky you. Her name is Elvira. She bit me when I first rescued her. People don't treat black cats well, you know? Especially around Halloween. She was scared, some kids were being mean to her so I brought her home. Had to get a bunch of nasty shots to make sure I didn't get rabies. She's only a few years old."

II realizes he's rambling to this man he just met, about his cat no less. "Sorry, you probably don't care."

Vessel smiles, enjoying how the worry crinkled the edges of II's pretty blue eyes as the man realizes just how much he was talking Vessel's ears off, his hands dropping from where they were moving with his words. It's cute.

"No, it's alright. I've never had a pet. She's cute." Vessel laughs, more of a huff of air than an actual laugh, but it tilts the edges of II's lips up involuntarily anyway.

II wonders if he smiled while he did so, if his shoulders shook with the action.

"She can stay then? Sleep said it was alright." II smiles fully now, unsure.

It ends a little lopsided, endearingly enough, Vessel notices.

"Oh, yes, it's perfectly fine. We'll need to get her things though. The manor is empty. Most of the furniture was rotted or broken entirely so I threw it away. I'm sorry to say there is no bed for you or her to sleep on." Vessel sounds genuinely sorry, nervous even, like II was going to reprimand him for something that wasn't his fault.

"That's alright. This way I'll get to choose my own things! Do you have money to buy anything? I-"

II cringes, the memories of his death coming back full force, one of the only things he remembers from Before. Gasping out, II holds his chest with his free hand at the phantom pain of the knife searing into his flesh. Vessel startles, the arm on II's bicep going down to hold his hand gently out of instinct.

"Are you alright?" Vessel asks, desperate to know if II was okay despite just having met him.

Something within each of them was drawn to the other, small and unnoticeable as it was.

"I- I'm fine." II gasps out, shuddering violently, eyes going half-lidded as his vision is clouded with the sky he stared up at as he died, lost in the fear he felt,, the way the blood forced its way up his throat, burning like acid-

Vessel's hand in his brings him comfort, so he holds it tighter, hoping the other man doesn't mind. It helps ground him to the moment, walking through this silent forest with the first vessel of a God he knows next to nothing about. Vessel pauses, looking at their joined hands and up to where he knows his pulse should beat. Panic flares up like a flame in his chest, and Vessel rubs soothing circles into the palm of II's hand with his thumb to ignore it, push it down and away. II won't notice, lost as he is in his own mind, so it should be fine, Vessel assures himself desperately.

"I'm sorry." II starts as they continue walking as his shaking calms down, "I just remembered how I died... I was robbed, stabbed in the chest a couple times, I think."

Vessel strains to hear the other man as his voice goes down to a whisper, sad, with a hint of bitterness. "You never need to apologize to me for something like that. Its only natural to be haunted by your death."

II couldn't see it, but Vessel has averted his gaze, guilty eyes staring forlornly down at the fluffy cat he was holding. Nodding, assuming Vessel could see him, "How did-"

"I bled out." Vessel states, a certain unfeeling numbness to his voice that shocks II into silence.

The thumb still rubbing slow, gentle circles into his palm stills, righting itself in a proper hold, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." II hurries to apologize, realizing that he shouldn't have asked.

"It's alright. I've had time to process and come to terms with it." Vessel lies, the guilt building up with every word.

Lying to II seems wrong, and Vessel hates that the words fell from his lips so easily. Though, Vessel supposes it isn't really a lie. Vessel has come to terms with his death, come to terms with his failure at ending his own life. This admittance lightens the guilt a bit, and Vessel breathes a little easier knowing he didn't truly lie to II.

When they reach the manor, the outside vines reach for Vessel as he passes over the threshold of the porch, the small area covered with the plants. II cannot see them, but he does feel them brush over his arm, can just barely see the outline of the manor looming above him. He's so tired, so quickly trusting of Vessel, that he doesn't even bother asking if they've arrived.

Vessel turns on the lights in the entrance hall, ducking his head momentarily as it burns his eyes, disguising it as setting down Elvira, and when he looks up, they get their first good look at each other.

Vessel's mask is startling upon first glance, but his eyes, pupiless blood red surrounded by pitch black sclera are beautiful though the eye holes are differing shapes and altogether difficult to see into. He's wearing a pair of plain black jeans with a black hoodie, the band name on it unfamiliar to II. His hair, a dark mess sitting wildly upon his head, curls around the edges of the mask and the underside of his jaw.

Vessel, taking II in, finally lets go of his hand, which he realizes is black as night. Both he and II miss the touch, neither really understanding why. II's mask sits perfectly over his nose, a piercing just barely visible under the cloth in his right nostril. The blue of his eyes are even more striking in the light. He is also much shorter than Vessel, a good few inches of height between them. His clothes are simple a t-shirt that shows off the tattoos on his arms and plain dark wash jeans, his shoes are chunky black boots and he has a multitude of silver chained necklaces of differing lengths dangling from around his neck.

They both look around the entrance hall awkwardly, suddenly realizing that they both had been staring intently at each other. Vessel decides to show II around the manor, and let him pick a room, all while explaining that they only have about twenty-one hours to get everything set up for II's transformation. Vessel warns him it will hurt greatly, but neither could've truly prepared for it.

All of the rooms are pretty bare, but II doesn't mind, Vessel explaining again but in further detail how the house had been empty of anything but dust, debris, and barely standing furniture. He listens intently as the first goes on to explain that the only lucky break they had was that each room had in-tact bed frames, a blessing from Sleep most likely.

Vessel hates how much he's speaking, sure in his belief that every word is grating on II's ears. The other man must be so annoyed with him by now. Once Vessel is done getting him settled in, he'll have to be as silent as the dead so as not to bother the Second.

II ends up picking the room closest to the upstairs sitting room, after only a brief glance into it. Elvira sits perched on the small windowsill, staring at the two men standing in the doorway. She meows once before hopping down to rub against II's leg and running off somewhere else. II laughs, and Vessel hangs on to the sound, the silence of the house dispersing with another person's presence.

The altar room is a quick affair, barren as it is. II reaches out to touch the sigil on the wall, and Vessel, leaning silently against the doorframe, shudders violently as the sensation slams into his own chest like a freight train. It wasn't painful, just- greatly uncomfortable.

Turning back around to look at the first, II manages to miss Vessel pulling himself together quickly as he gestures at the mostly bare table, "We'll need to get more candles and things for offerings. Incense maybe?"

"Yes, I figured we could get some things at the store. We should probably leave soon if we want to make it before the furniture store closes. I want to give you time to settle in before your transformation starts tomorrow." Vessel explains, eager to get II's curious eyes away from the sigil his heartbeat resides in, and II nods easily enough, understanding.

"Sure. We can head out now. I'm already feeling better than before, though I do have a headache coming on, I think." II smiles, but it falls into more of a grimace towards the end of his words.

Vessel winces, understanding entirely. The migraine he suffered before and during his transformation was the worst he had ever experienced, he is sure. He can imagine very well what II must be feeling.

With Vessel leading through the darkness with utter surety in the destination and II no longer as weak limbed as before, the walk back to Vessel's car is far quicker, merely an hour instead of the two or three it took the first time. They held hands again, for II's benefit, of course. Vessel wouldn't want the other man to stumble and twist an ankle.

It's as they get to the furniture store a while later that Vessel's anxiety rises to the surface whereas it had once been simmering just under his skin, growing steadily in strength with every mile passed.

Parking the car about halfway through the parking lot, Vessel shuts the car off and lets II begin to get out. The other man pauses, realizing Vessel wasn't coming with him.

"Are you not coming?" II asks.

Shaking his head almost rabidly,

"I can't go into a store like this. I can't, I'm sorry." Vessel pleads, eyes wide, anxiety swirling in his gut, just the thought of getting out of the car nearly too much to handle.

"Is it your eyes? The mask?" II inquires, worried now as Vessel's shaking becomes clear to him, white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel not hiding the tremor in his whole body.

Nodding, Vessel agrees, though to which one II isn't sure, so he assumes it is both. "Stores- I get- I couldn't go in by myself. Before you arrived. Sleep asked me to do all of this before you got here, but I- Fuck, fuck." Vessel's voice breaks off into a whisper, guilt eating away at his mind for even admitting this much.

II must think him pathetic, useless. All of his past partners did, his parents, and they all made sure he knew quite well. But Vessel couldn't help the way social situations made him feel like the ground was about to crumble away beneath his feet, like the entire world's eyes were on him at every moment, like everyone was laughing at him just for existing. He's fucking worthless. He can't even go into a fucking store by himself, and clearly not even with another person who is dressed almost as unusual as himself.

II, who has remained silent up until this point, trying to figure out a way to comfort Vessel, to reassure him, is kept from saying anything just yet when Vessel speaks again, and his voice is so quiet, so desperate, II's heart clenches in his chest, "Please, just- just get whatever you want. I, I can help load it on the car when you're done, I promise. I'm sorry."

"But don't you need a mattress too?"

Vessel can't bring his eyes to meet II's own, focusing instead on his hands before him. "I don't need sleep, not like you do. Sleep said so."

Frowning, putting that aside for later thought, II counters, "You still need rest Vessel, whether you sleep or not. The bed doesn't have to be just for sleeping. It's not like we have anywhere to sit right now, you need a proper bed."

Vessel winces, recognizing II's point and agreeing silently but unwilling, unable to say anything, his mouth filling with cotton. "I'll be keeping my mask on, and if anyone asks or says anything, I can answer for us. We'll say we're off to a costume party or something."

"Okay." Vessel agrees quietly, slipping the keys and card into his pocket before slowly opening up the driver door and getting out.

II walks over to his side and grabs his hand, tilting his head and gesturing with it in silent question. Nodding, Vessel licks his dry lips, each step forward feeling like a death march. Vessel woukd prefer killing himself again, he thinks, instead of being around complete strangers out in public. Especially like this.

The fluorescent lights inside the store immediately burn his eyes and Vessel cringes back, ducking his head and staring resolutely at the floor. Leading them forward, II asks quietly if he's alright. Vessel murmurs his affirmative, eyes clenched shut as a headache begins to ache right behind them.

His hands have gone numb and Vessel is glad for II holding one of them, keeping some sort of feeling in the appendage. He wonders if the other man is going to say anything about the full-body tremble he can surely feel, wonders if he'll take his hand back, shake him off, or tell him to 'stop that fucking shaking or else.' It wouldn't be new to Vessel.

II let's go of his hand only once the entire time to try out a mattress, gesturing with the other as a saleswoman comes up to them asking if they need any help. When he asks what Vessel would prefer, Vessel spirals. II's letting him choose?

II, noticing the accelerated, short breaths Vessel is taking, pulls them over to one of the dimmer sections of the store, though its hardly any darker. "Breathe, Vessel, its alright. Do you want me to just get the one I picked for both of us? I'm sorry, I didn't think your anxiety was this bad. I'd never have asked you to come in if I'd known. I thought it was just from what we were wearing, but clearly its not. I'm sorry."

II, desperately trying to comfort Vessel, takes both hands now and rubs over his palms gently, trying to soothe, to help. Vessel forces himself to nod, a few too many times, but II doesn't mind. "I'll be right back so we can get out of here. How am I paying?"

Vessel begins shaking his head back and forth as II lets go of his hands. On instinct, Vessel grabs the hem of II's shirt but jerks back away just as quickly, holding his arms close to his stomach in a protective manner. "I'm sorry. I'll go with you, just don't leave."

II's heart shatters at the desperation in Vessel's voice, how small he looks even as he towers over II. The man can see that the first Vessel is trying his best to take up as little space as possible, hunched over into himself. Glancing around, II realizes some of the workers are staring though they look away quickly when II catches them. "I won't leave, I promise. Let's get this done quickly, alright? Then we can leave."

Vessel hands over the credit card Sleep gave him, and when II takes it, Vessel looks back down to the floor, hands held close, keeping a close eye on II's boots to follow him. When the second vessel doesn't move after a moment, Vessel looks up. The corners of II's eyes are crinkled with the smile hidden mostly by his cloth mask, a hand held out in offering. Hesitantly, Vessel reaches out and takes it, marveling at the gesture despite it becoming somewhat familiar at this point.

While II talks to the saleswoman again and gets everything handled, Vessel is lost in his head, focusing on righting his breathing, on the feel of II's hand in his own, on the faint presence of Sleep in the back of his mind. Slowly, the numbness in his hands that had spread up his arms fades, his trembling slowing before stopping completely.

As the workers go to bring out the mattresses to the front of the store, II looks back at Vessel in concern. The other man has been silent, but II is glad his trembling has stopped and he's seemed to calm down. "Are you okay now?" II keeps his voice low, gentle and calm,

Vessel nods, still not meeting II's eyes and he frowns, worried. There's no way II can expect Vessel to go grocery shopping with him. "I'm sorry I made a scene."

"Oh, Vessel, you didn't make a scene. Its alright, you can't help when you have a panic attack. Its not your fault." II reassures, regretfully looking away when the workers bring out the mattresses.

"There's bungee chords in the back. We can tie down the mattresses that way." Vessel offers, rubbing over his wrist scarring and newer cuts absent-mindedly, the urge to add more growing.

They get out the bungee chords and attach the mattresses to the top of the car, it weighs it down quite a bit but thankfully not enough they can't drive anywhere. Vessel feels some of his deeper cuts reopen, but doesn't let his alarm show. He's wearing his hoodie, it'll be okay.

"We need to go to the grocery store still. I'll drive since I don't think you're in a good state to do do. My headache isn't too bad." II states when they're finished.

Vessel apologizes quickly, voice weak as he hands over the keys without question. He feels like utter shit. This trip was to get things for II so he'd have all he needed when he undergoes the transformation into a true vessel tomorrow. Its turned into him just comforting useless Vessel.

"Vessel, you don't have to keep apologizing to me for things like this. Its not your fault, and really, none of this bothers me."

Vessel nods, closing his eyes against II's burning gaze, fearing the man can tell that he is only agreeing to drop the issue. They get in the car and sit in silence while II drives further into town looking for a store that sells both food and other things. He explains that they may as well get sheets and pillows and groceries all in one go, do they can get back home faster. Vessel marvels at the way II can already call the manor home. Vessel isn't sure he's ever really had a home. A house, a place to sleep, sure, but a home? Never.

Vessel expects II to have him go into the store with him again, but is surprised when he declines and II only smiles and asks him if there was anything he wanted. "Thats alright, I'll pick out some new things for us to try then. I'll be right back."

Only when Vessel is sure II is gone does he let himself cry. Silent sobs shake his shoulders, small breaths are all he can manage and Vessel really just wants to hurt, but he refrains. He can wait until they get back to the house and get II's things set up. He can, he has to. Vessel doesnt even want to think about what II would say if he saw Vessel ripping into his own skin with his nails.

'I had a fucking panic attack after going into a furniture store! A furniture store!' Vessel thinks hysterically to himself, loathing beating away at his brain as his sharp nails dig into his thighs through his jeans. His masked forehead rests against the dash while he waits for II to come out. He feels terrible, like a burden. Worthless, no, even less than that. II is going to leave, without a doubt. If he doesn't, then surely he will ask Sleep to rid themselves of his presence. Vessel isn't that important, his God could easily find other vessels.

Sniffling, Vessel lifts his mask to wipe away tears, and sits in silence until II returns, around an hour later. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you wait so long." II says as he opens the drivers side back door, stuffing a multitude of bags inside that he seemingly carried out by himself.

"You're fine, did you get what all you wanted and needed?" Vessel asks, and hopes II doesn't notice about the voice crack.

"Yeah! Bedsheets, a few blankets, a first aid kid, a few shirts for me and hopefully a couple that'll fit you, and some other essentials like underwear and shit. Oh, and snacks, to go with all the healthy food you just bought us." II smiles.

"The card's from Sleep actually. Didn't have any of my own money. Money is inconsequential to Gods, so they just made that card for us to use."

"Ah, well, I think we just singlehandedly fucked up the economy with illegal, undocumented money." II laughs, and Vessel smiles at the sound, though it falls when II winces and holds a hand to his temple.

"I'll drive back, II, you rest. I'm sorry you had to do all this. I should be able to do these things."

"Alright, that's probably for the best. Are you feeling better now?" II asks, and his pretty blue eyes are so hopeful Vessel finds himself nodding in affirmation despite not feeling much better at all.

The corners of II's eyes crinkle even further, causing his eyes to squint like he can't quite see. It really is endearing, and Vessel finds himself smiling back though he knows II can't see it. They switch places in the car, and II goes through his cd's before picking a Whitney Houston album. 'I Wanna Dance With Somebody' starts playing over his radio, and Vessel's lip quirks up as II starts quietly humming along, tapping along with both his feet and hands to the drums, mimicking all the hand movements with ease, as though drumsticks were in his hands at that moment.

"Do you drum?" Vessel asks once the song is over.

Nodding as he answers, II replies. "Yes, I play the drums. Its one of the reasons Sleep chose me. Do you play anything?"

A blush rises to Vessel's cheeks, but he answers truthfully. "I sing, play guitar, bass, and piano."

"I can see why Sleep chose you then, if our method of worship is to be music. You must be talented." II smiles lightheartedly.

"Just a hardworker is all."

Vessel insists on carrying some of the groceries when they get back to the forest where the manor resides. II tries to protest, saying he has everything handled, but Vessel manages to get at least four bags while II takes the rest. II pouts, the jut of his lip barely visible under the mask, but it causes Vessel to laugh again, the smalle shaking of his shoulders and the near-silent huffs of laughter exactly what II was aiming for.

The walk back to the manor is shorter, a little bit more of the ice broken between them. II talks more than Vessel, but neither mind when silence strikes. When the manor comes into view, a single light left on in the entrance hall the only indicator II can see, he sighs in relief. Over time, his headache has grown increasingly worse. He could not set down the grocery bags fast enough.

"Just a bit more II, just gotta get your mattress back here."

"Okay." II's voice is quieter now, and Vessel is quickly growing worried.

He knows his God said they had twenty four hours, but they're already down to eighteen hours left and with every passing second, II looks a little bit worse. The trip back to the car for II's mattress is easy enough, its managing to get it back to the manor while II feels worse and worse that makes it difficult. By the time they manage it, II has to sit down by the footboard of his bed, back against the wall with his head tucked between his knees. Vessel turns the lights off in the house and begins making the other man's bed with whatever sheets he finds first. They're not washed but the package was completely unopened so it'll have to do.

Fluffing up a pillow or two, Vessel finishes with the bed and crouches before II. The second vessel doesn't lift his head, doesn't even move. "Hurts." He murmurs, and Vessel barely hears it.

"I know." Vessels voice is low, aimed to soothe, "Can I pick you up?"

II shakes his head, insisting he can get up to his bed himself, but when he gets to his feet, he sways, holding his palms to his eyes as the movement causes a sharp stab of pain that continues even after he manages to still. Vessel half leads, half carries II to bed and tucks him in under the covers. II is nearly asleep by then, head aching something fierce, but still, he reaches out blindly for Vessel, grabbing his hoodie hem as the man turns to leave. "Thank you. I'll see you in the morning?"

Vessel nods before realizing II can't see him before verbally responding. II falls asleep with a small, barely visible smile and Vessel sighs as he shuts the door behind himself.

That done, Vessel goes to put groceries away and sort through whatever else II got. Going through the shirts and figuring out which is likely his, putting the first aid kit in the downstairs bathroom, groceries in the cleaned out fridge. Its nice that Sleep at least made sure there was running water and electricity. It's quick work, and Vessel finds the silence in the absence of II to feel... well, wrong. So he hums, so quiet it barely stirs the air around him, but it helps all the same. Making his way through the house in search of II's cat to feed her, Vessel eventually finds her in the large empty room on the ground floor. Though, its no longer empty.

To one side of the room sits a beautiful but old grand piano, a light wooden color with a matching bench. To the other side of the room is a drumkit complete with a pair of drumsticks.

"Thank you, my God."

'Enjoy your gift, my vessel.' His Gods voice whispers in his mind before they are gone from his head, though their presence lingers as it usually does.

Sitting down at the piano, Vessel lets a single finger press the G note key, but it was so discordant after it rang through the room, Vessel couldn't help but wince. Vessel looks around the room and finds a tuning kit pretty easily, thanking Sleep once more, and gets to work. Its hours of work, and the sun is rising by the time he's done. He sits to play for maybe an hour or so before a knock on the doorframe causes him to slam a few keys all at once.

When Vessel turns, II is leaning on the doorframe holding his head with one hand, a pained smile beneath the mask. He stands right away, making it over to the other man in record time, and begins leading him back upstairs. "I'll make you something to eat, you just lay down."

II doesn't protest about all the care Vessel is showing, visibly in pain. The hours leading down to the beginning of II's transformation are long and drawn out, feeling like a timer ticking down to a bomb setting off. Vessel had warned II that the process would hurt, but he didn't truly realize how much it would affect him leading up to it. Vessel remembered being in pain before his as well, but its worse seeing II going through the same thing and being unable to do anything about it.

Thankfully, he's in bed when the transformation begins, Elvira laying by his feet. Vessel is with him, holding his hand and rubbing soothing circles into his palm worriedly. II is grateful, so grateful. Vessel could have just left him be in wait for the process to begin, but he's been fretting silently, an aura of worry stemming off his body so potently II could almost see it. II would try to reassure him if he could manage to speak past the pain, past the fire roaring through his blood, pounding away at his brain.

II is aware of everything, every change being made to his body and soul. He can feel something crawling over his itching, burning eyes, feel the way his Gods essence slowly takes over his lifeblood, transforming it into something more. Every atom is screaming as his soul changes to the whims of his God. He has no idea how much time has passed, it feels like its stretched out infinitely and yet mere seconds at the same time. It's torture. If II thought accepting his new God was painful, this is light-years worse. Nothing he has felt, in this life or the next, will ever compare to the sheer agony this process is wreaking upon his mind, body, and soul.

The only constant aside from the pain, is Vessel's touch, the calm of his voice. Vessel is so gentle, so apologetic as he removes the mask from II's head. He hums near silently as he wipes at II's sweaty forehead after putting him back on his back so he doesn't choke on the sludge that drips from his lips, its taste foul.

The only passing of time II is aware of is the position of the sun as it passes by his room. Vessel never turns the light on, so II relies on the bright rays, thankful the too-thin curtains have been pulled shut. It must've been at least a week now, in constant agony. II wants it to end, he needs it to stop, please Sleep, make it stop.

"Sleep, I don't understand why even asleep, he looks so pained. Is something wrong with his transformation?" Vessel asks, brow furrowed beneath his mask.

II wants to ask Sleep the same. Something has to be wrong for the process to feel like this. The voice of his God is far too loud as it echoes in the room, bringing nothing but more pain as it mingles with II's migraine.

"Nothing is wrong, my vessel. This was how your body reacted as well. The second vessel rests, but he is not asleep. You handled your transformation beautifully while awake, so I did the same to the second."

Vessel breathes out a shaky sigh of disbelieving horror, unaware of how II, conscious as he is while his body is still, knows he would do the same.

"Will it take as long as mine?" Vessel asks finally, after minutes in silence, through trembling lips, and II watches, unable to move and too in pain to really process at the time, as Vessel lifts his mask to wipe golden tears.

Golden tears. Vessel has tears of liquid gold, striking against the pale skin of his jaw and the blush pink of his lips, staining the other man's hands and clothes as he wipes them off on his jeans.

This isn't right. Vessel could easily justify letting himself suffer, he was used to pain. It's been a constant his entire life. But this man before him didn't deserve this, sleep should be his sanctuary during this process. Why won't his God just let II sleep? There has to be something Vessel can do- wait. Vessel makes a decision and calms his mind as much as he is able, needing to concentrate. There's a thin thread of something niggling at the back of his mind that's been there ever since his transformation. Reaching out a hand and laying it on II's sweaty forehead, the creases from pain ease under his touch. If Vessel could just- yes, just like that. Connect with II's consciousness and force him to sleep, properly sleep, instead of whatever this is that Sleep has put him under. There's an ache in his brows that wasn't there before, but he ignores it after chalking it up to the beginnings of a headache.

II's dry eyes move, eyelids shuttering before falling shut. Pain spikes through his head and Vessel winces, but when he unscrews his eyes from being shut, II has calmed. His forehead no longer creases in pain, his breathing just that small bit calmer. Vessel is glad. So glad.

Vessel lets himself rest, curling up at II's side, careful not to touch, while the other finally, finally sleeps. His mask and II's sits between them, and Vessel lets himself sob into one hand while the other holds II's. Fuck, he finally feels worth something. Even as his brow aches and the room spins and nausea rocks in his gut, Vessel keeps himself silent, something he does well. His shoulders shake minutely, and he sobs, but no sound leaves his lips but the barest hint of harsh breathing. When he is calm, Vessel thinks he may go write a song. But right now, he is so tired, and all he wants is to sleep but he physically can't. His body aches, and a headache pounds behind his eyes, a chill sweeping through his limbs.

Within hours, II is awake again, and Vessel can feel it. In the back of his mind, its like a light switch has turned on and that fuzzy bit of something comes into focus and then there is pain. Such agony that Vessel shoots up and back, knocking over both himself and the piano bench he had been sitting on. In seconds, he is up the stairs and in II's room, at his side, knowing without a doubt that it is his presence Vessel is feeling. With no small amount of effort, Vessel forces him back to sleep and breathes a sigh of relief at the peace that settles in II's mind, even as the headache that had finally went away begins to creep up on him again.

"Sleep, what's happened? Why can I- Why can I feel II's presence and his emotions? Its strange, and feels wrong, like- like an invasion of his privacy."

"I have bonded you to the Second in mind and soul. I thought you would like to be able to navigate your human emotions better if you could feel each others. Do you not like my gift?"

"N-no, its not th-" Vessel blanches at the hurt he can hear in his Gods voice, trying to explain himself quickly to lessen it.

"Fine then. I was to explain how to give you some modicum of privacy, as you humans seem to strive for that in desperation, but you are not thankful for my gift. You will figure it out for yourself."

"No! Wait, I beg of you, please- I'm-"

Sleep's presence is gone before Vessel can finish, "... sorry. Fuck."

Running to the altar room, Vessel takes the ritual knife he keeps by the plate and draws it vertically over his wrist. Blood spills onto the plate almost immediately, and whether Sleep makes their presence known or not, Vessel needs them to understand.

"I am thankful for your gift. I- I just- II doesn't need to be privy to how fucked up I am. He doesn't deserve to and... I'm scared. Of what he will think of me. This is- This was a very sudden gift, and you've already given me more than I deserve."

Sleep lets their presence be known, voice no longer as hurt as Vessel's blood continues to drip down his arm and splash onto the plate. It is faint, but Vessel is relieved they have come back at all.

"I have told you, my dearest vessel, that you are deserving of everything. I will not take back my gift, and in time, the other vessels will be bonded with you and the second in the same way. That is all I will say on the matter, now leave me to rest. I- I have overextended my powers to give you these things. When the time is right, I will ask for an offering, one not of your blood, but perhaps of the music you have made."

Vessel crumbles to his knees, clutching his arm to his chest. Affirming his Gods wishes, Sleep leaves him. These- all of these things- II, the piano, this bond, these things are gifts from his God. His God thought well enough of him to give him things without asking for anything more than worship in return, and only when they need it. Vessel couldn't be more grateful, as apprehensive as he is about this bond he and II have been struck with. He supposes he'll just have to figure out how to limit his emotions from traveling over to II's side. It can't be that hard, can it?

II is awake for even shorter periods of time over his transformation as Vessel learns to use this new power with more and more ease. With every use, the ache in his brow grows worse, little by little. Vessel grows adept at closing the door of his mind that leads out into a hall where II's resides. Its strange, to picture a hallways with doors in his own head, so it takes work, but Vessel gets it eventually. With practice, it becomes easier to manage.

In his waking moments, Vessel was there. II felt every careful touch, gentle caress, heard every kind word and encouragement. He heard Vessel cry and sob, out of pain or despair, II isn't sure. He just knows it breaks his heart every time. When he wakes and there is less pain than usual, II is struck with an emotion that he can tell immediately isn't his.

II has never felt such strong self-loathing, even at his worst. There is also this other presence in the back of his mind, much like how Sleep's lurks. Within seconds, that negative emotion is gone and replaced with terrifying calm and Vessel appears at his side. Was- was that Vessel's emotions?

"Its okay, you don't need to be so confused. I'll explain when your transformation is over. Go back to sleep, II." Vessel's hand is cold against II's too-warm forehead and if he could, II would lean into the touch but his body still won't obey him.

Sleep is a welcome thing as the brief reprieve from the pain ends almost as quickly as it started.

Finally, two weeks into his transformation, II wakes for the final time, feeling better than he had in what felt like forever. Vessel is nowhere to be seen, but II can hear the piano, which has been a near constant thing in his moments of consciousness, stop. There is relief in II's chest, even as he sits up and takes in the new state of his body.

His hands have turned the same deep black as Vessel's, up to the middle of his forearm where little tendrils of ink reach up towards his elbows. Instead of his usual nails, longer, sharp nails like claws lay. When II glances at his window, there is no light streaming through, and yet he can see perfectly. His mask lays beside him, but II leaves it off. He needs a damn shower, desperately.

"You're awake, for good this time." Vessel's voice is as relieved as II feels, breathy and hopeful.

II looks up at his doorway where Vessel stands, still as a statue with his arms held close to his stomach, and II realizes he can feel the relief in his mind as well where Vessel's presence has grown stronger.

II smiles at Vessel, and for a moment, Vessel is struck by just how beautiful the other man is. For the first time, Vessel can see his eyes crinkle and the way a single dimple appears, and awe floods the bond for a moment before it quiets to something smaller, less all-encompassing.

"I'm sorry." Vessel starts, then begins to explain about the bond, nervous and apprehensive.

II listens, nodding along, a bit concerned at the calm over the bond when clearly Vessel is not calm at all. Sleep has bonded them, made it so their emotions are apparent to each other when they wish it, and Vessel sounds scared.

"Alright, I'm fine with this."

"Y-You are?"

"Yeah, I've always believed in communicating what I'm feeling anyways. This will just make that easier. I understand if you don't want to do the same, and I'm completely fine with that. I'll just be an open book for you, you won't need to doubt my intentions." II smiles again, and Vessel is struck with the heavy need to cry again.

So little time spent with this man and he's been nicer, more considerate of Vessel, than most anyone ever has in his entire life. It's jarring, and Vessel doesn't know how to act around him, so Vessel decides to do as he would if II weren't so kind, as the safest option.

He'll isolate himself, hide away. Hide his emotions, his pain, keep to his room.

Its better this way.

If only II thought the same. If only Vessel didn't silently ache with the want to be loved that he breaks beneath it so easily.

#ii sleep token #sleep token fic #vessel sleep token #sleep token #polyvessels #ii x vessel

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madsworld15 · 9 months ago

Text

Part 2 of Heal Me, Hold Me, Make Me, Know Me

Part of my Asexual as Folk series

I won't be able to write much this weekend, so I am hoping this installment will tide people over until either Sunday evening or Monday morning.

Twenty minutes later, Brian stood up and walked back inside the hospital. He didn’t want to have to make any decisions about Justin’s care, but if Jennifer needed him to help her, he would. He couldn’t exactly say what had changed his mind, but it came down to the fact that he didn’t want anyone to have to be alone in all this. He and Jennifer included.

Weird. I’ve always pushed myself to be independent and not need love. Now, here I am, deciding that if she asks me again, I will make a decision with her about her son. Her son, who I care deeply about, against my better judgment.

When he stepped back inside, he found Debbie standing off to the side, talking to Daphne, who was crying, and Michael, who was not. Brian knew he should talk to Daphne, they had a mutual bond because of Justin, and she deserved to hear about it from him. But, he was still so numb and adrift after the meeting with the doctor. He wasn’t sure he could handle all of Daphne’s emotions on top of that.

So, instead, he turned toward the other end of the hall, where he was certain Jennifer would still be. Without a word to his family, Brian headed toward Justin’s. He hadn’t taken more than two steps when he felt a hand envelope his own. He looked down to see long, slender fingers. Without looking up, he knew that they belonged to Emmett. Bless that sweet man for always knowing the right thing to do in a crisis. Brian was closer to Michael, even when they were distant from each other, like now, but Michael was useless in situations where emotions ran high. No, Brian didn’t need Michael right now; he needed Emmett.

The two men arrive at the conference room once more and find Jennifer sitting where Brian had left her. She had her cell phone in her left hand and a crumpled tissue in her right. A pile of used tissues sat on the table in front of her. She was staring, unseeing, straight ahead. Emmett immediately sat down next to her while Brian hung back. He’d been touching and hugging people more in the last 5 hours than he had in the last 5 years. He was at his limit.

“It was his birthday.” Jennifer’s statement came out in a whisper, wettened by the tears still flowing down her face.

That one sentence broke Brian. His knees buckled, and he had to force himself into a chair of his own. How had he forgotten it was Justin’s birthday? What god and what universe allows a person to be attacked an inch of his life on his birthday?

“Fuck.” Brian let his breath out, and the tears started anew.

Emmett squeezed Jennifer against his side as he also reached for Brian’s hand.

“What can I do?” He asked, looking between the two people he was trying to keep steady.

Jennifer bit her lip and then finally turned her head toward them. “I called his father. He’s not coming. It seems he believes Justin brought this on himself.”

The anger within Brian bubbled to the surface, and he clenched his fists, forgetting that Emmett had one in his grip. He couldn’t believe a parent would be so heartless as to say he deserved to be bashed. And to say it to his obviously grieving ex-wife, the mother of said child? Unforgivable.

“I thought my dad was bad.” Brian spat out, the words feeling like fire on his tongue.

Jennifer gave a wet laugh, “Craig is, well, he’s something. I just regret that it took me until now to officially leave him. Justin deserved better.”

They all fell silent for some time. Brian could hear every tick of the clock on the wall. He wanted to know if Jennifer had made any decisions yet, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Emmett, who hated silences, even if they were comfortable, cleared his throat and spoke up.

“What matters most is that you are here now. He is lying there in the ICU, broken and bruised, in need of his mom, and you are here.” Jennifer nodded to indicate that she understood.

“I’m sorry.” Brian’s voice filled the empty space left behind when Emmett stopped talking.

“Brian –” Emmett started to reassure him that he had nothing to apologize for, but Brian shrugged him off.

“I should have followed him out of the club. I shouldn’t have been a colossal jackass to him in the days leading up to this. If I hadn’t, he wouldn’t have felt the need to go to Babylon.” Brian rambled, his eyes fixed on his hands that were still in fists.

“Brian, YOU are NOT to blame.” Emmett’s words came out firm but loving. “You didn’t punch him and kick him. In fact, you have only ever respected him and cared about him.”

“As for Babylon, I was the one who urged him to go out for his birthday. He just wanted to have a quiet night in and watch movies. If we are going to play a blame game for why he was there, then I am the reason, not you.”

“Neither of you are to blame.” Jennifer butted in. “You both were there for him when I refused to be. We can’t sit here and blame ourselves for the actions of those three who attacked him. We all have to be strong and support him through the road ahead.”

She paused, got up from her seat, and moved closer to Brian. Then, surprising him, she leaned over and wrapped him in a hug.

“You heard the doctor. Justin has multiple surgeries and months of rehab to look forward to. He’s going to need people there to support him.”

Brian hesitated before he wrapped his arms around Justin’s mom as well. He breathed in her vanilla scent and allowed her warm embrace to comfort him. Here was a woman who had every right to hate him. He was much older than her son and was Justin’s chosen partner. Instead, she chose to love and appreciate his presence in her son’s life. This was all foreign territory for Brian. Most people immediately criticized his influence on the people he cared about, thinking he was too selfish. But, Mrs. Taylor was here accepting him as he was for the sake of her son. A small voice at the back of Brian’s brain told him not to get comfortable and that she would probably turn on him eventually. But for now, he was going to soak up this feeling. It helped to keep his fears at bay.

Jennifer pulled back, “We should probably go and update the others, Daphne and…that woman…”

“Debbie.” Emmett and Brian said at once. They shared a small smile.

“Yes, Debbie. We should update them.” Jennifer stood up and grabbed her purse. She deposited all the used tissues in the trash, wiped the tear tracks from her face, and put on a fake smile before she left the room.

Emmett followed her soon after, but Brian hung back briefly. He needed to compose himself. It was one thing to allow Emmett and Jennifer to see him break down. He couldn’t do that in front of Daphne. While it wasn’t the first time Debbie or Michael would’ve seen him crack under pressure, he wasn’t in the mood for their comfort right now.

He needed to be sure that when he went out there, his demeanor reflected the stoic person he always was. It would encourage the huggers of the group to leave him alone. Which, if Debbie could be counted on for anything, it was running her mouth. He was sure more people probably arrived by now to stand vigil for someone they didn’t really know but mattered to Brian, so they cared. Sure enough, upon reaching the part of the hallway where he’d left Debbie before, he found Lindsay and Ted had joined the group.

“Doesn’t anyone have anything better to do? It’s not like he knows you are here.” Brian rolled his eyes and pulled out his cigarettes. He knew he couldn’t smoke inside, but damn did he want to.

“Then why are you here?” Mikey whined from his spot next to Debbie.

Brian shook his head slightly in disbelief, pinched the bridge of his nose, and finally responded.

“Because he’s my bo— because we are seeing each other.” Brian caught himself before he said the dreaded word, but a look around revealed that Debbie, Lindsay, and Emmett were giving each other knowing smiles.

“I’m grateful that someone has been here with him since it happened.” Daphne stepped forward and moved to touch Brian’s arm, but he took a step back.

“Yeah, well, someone had to. He was pretty beat up.” Brian shrugged and tried to act nonchalantly.

“I was there too.” Michael started to chime in, but Brian stepped up to him and cut him off.

“You stood there and didn’t do shit!” His frustration at the whole situation poured out of him and landed on the one thing he could control — Michael.

“Fuck off, Brian! He wouldn’t have been out there if you’d paid him any attention!” Michael spat back, his words having no truth to them but still cutting deep.

“The two of you need to stop!” Debbie got between them, giving them both a stern mother look.

“Maybe if you’d done something, they wouldn’t have been able to kick his head and cause his brain to swell!” Brian threw at Michael despite Debbie’s admonishment.

“Brian!” Debbie turned all her attention to him. “I know you are hurting, and when that happens, you make those around you hurt, but placing the blame on Michael isn’t fair, and you know it.”

Brian was so angry at everything going on that he couldn’t even see straight. He knew Debbie was right, but it didn’t help that her son wanted to try and claim he was there for Justin when he wasn’t. He’s never once cared for the blonde ever.

“I’m going to get a coffee.” Brian stepped away from Daphne and the Novotnys.

“I think we should all go home and get some rest. We can come back in a few hours, in shifts, to visit him during visiting hours.” Debbie said, looking around at the family like she meant business. “That includes you, Brian. You need sleep, honey.”

The thought of going home terrified Brian. Even if Jennifer was there to keep an eye on him, Brian couldn’t imagine going across town to his loft right now. It was too far away.

“Debbie, is it?” Jennifer finally stepped forward, “I think Brian should stay here. Just in case something happens. I don’t want to be here alone.”

Brian would never be able to say it, but in that moment, he thought Jennifer was heaven on earth.

*****

As the sun rose, Brian sat in that sterile hallway. Jennifer was right next to him with her hand on his knee. After Debbie and everyone else had left, Brian had calmed down enough to allow Jennifer to give him the barest of touches in the hours since she hadn’t moved her hand, not once.

Brian leaned to the right, allowing his right arm to support his head. He knew he should probably sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw Justin lying on the ground in a puddle of his own blood. It was something he would give up his loft and all the money in his bank account to never see again.

He heard a muffled noise next to him. It sounded like voices, but he couldn’t make out the words. Brian rubbed his eyes and straightened up. He looked over to Jennifer and found her looking at him expectantly.

“Huh?” Brian stifled a yawn.

“I asked what you do. What’s your job? I’m assuming you have one.”

Brian let out a chuckle. “Advertising Executive.”

For the first time since Justin had jumped off the stage at Babylon Brian smiled, genuinely smiled.

“Sorry. You reminded me of Justin just then. He would’ve smirked at me and said, ‘Assuming you have a job’.” Brian ducked his head and stared at his hands, which he had his right grasping his left with the thumb and forefinger applying pressure to his left palm.

“Don’t apologize,” Jennifer whispered. “I love knowing that others appreciate his sarcasm and wit like I do. He’s always been so much brighter than his peers. He got a 1500 on his SAT. Did you know that?”

Brian shook his head, then tilted his chin up so he could make sideways eye contact with the woman next to him.

“But I’m not surprised. He told me once his father wanted him to go to Dartmouth. I knew then he was smarter than I could ever hope to be.”

Jennifer reached across and separated his hands in order to clasp his left one between both of hers.

“I don’t know you very well, Brian, but I know you are kinder and smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

Brian scoffed. But stopped the minute Jennifer continued.

“You saved my son's life. I will always be grateful to you for that.”

Brian’s throat thickened, and tears threatened to fall once more. He was saved from responding by the appearance of Justin’s doctor.

“Mrs. Taylor, it’s still not visiting hours, but we decided as a group that Justin might benefit from human contact that isn’t his medical team.” The doctor took a deep breath. “Would you like to see your son?”

Then he paused briefly before adding, “You can come too, Mr.” And then he looked stressed that he didn’t know Brian’s name.

“Kinney. My name is Brian Kinney.” He stood up and walked with Jennifer down a completely different hallway.

“Be aware Justin is still unconscious and on the ventilator. But we were able to lower his settings and hope that by tomorrow he can be weaned off.”

Brian and Jennifer silently nodded their heads. He found himself grabbing onto Jennifer’s hand and holding on tight. His brain couldn’t make up its mind whether or not he wanted to be touched. Most of the time it all felt too much, but as they walked toward the door that Justin lay behind, Brian felt the need to have something grounding him or else he might float away.

How could it be that this young man has changed his whole center of being in just 6 months?

Brian held his breath as they arrived at Justin’s room. He could see him through the glass doors and adjoining columns of windows. For someone whose personality made him brighter than sunshine and bigger than life, Justin was now so pale and small.

The sounds of the ventilator worked in tandem with the steady beat of Justin’s heart monitor. If it weren’t for the bandage around his head and his hand propped on pillows with rods sticking up out of it, Brian could easily say he was sleeping. In fact, Justin looked so similar to all those early mornings that Brian woke up to find him in the bed next to him.

“He looks as though he could wake up any moment,” Jennifer spoke his thoughts out loud. Brian just nodded.

He removed his hand from Jennifer’s, and she immediately moved in, placing her loving hands against any visible part of his face she could find.

“Oh, Justin. I’m here. And Brian’s here. You aren’t alone.” At Jennifer’s words, Brian sat in the chair on the other side of the bed and squeezed Justin’s leg.

“I’m right here. I see your hurt, Justin Taylor.”

If Jennifer was curious about Brian’s words, she didn’t say. Brian was grateful for that. He sat there silently, watching Justin’s heart beat out the steady rhythm. For the briefest of moments, he wondered if he should pray to God. But then he remembered he didn’t believe in that sort of thing. All those years of being forced to sit in a church and pray for absolution from sins he never committed turned him away from any kind of all-powerful being.

As if she could sense his thoughts, Jennifer spoke. “Do you believe in God, Brian?”

Brian shook his head, not wanting to say too much, but then one more look at Justin, and he changed his mind.

“I was raised in the Catholic church. My mom forced me to go multiple times a week until I was 12. Then I got taller than her and simply refused to go. I already knew I was gay and couldn’t bear sitting through lecture after lecture about how I was going against God. How could God create me as I was supposed to be but then hate me?” Brian shrugged.

“So, I stopped going. Met my best friend, Michael and went to Sunday dinners at his house instead.”

“I was never an avid churchgoer, but I guess you could say I believe. In times like this, I feel like it’s all I have.”

Jennifer ran her hands along Justin’s blankets, tucking them or straightening them where she saw fit. After a few minutes of this she looked up at Brian, and gave him a sad smile.

“You wouldn’t understand, but when you become a parent, the person you once were stops existing, and in its place is someone who would do anything for that child in your arms. If I could trade places with him right now, I would.”

“I do know. I have a son.” Brian licked his lips and allowed his mind to turn to Gus for the briefest of moments.

“That’s right. Justin drew a picture of you and him for the art show.”

“Gus.” Brian forced a smile and looked up at Jennifer.

She smiled to herself, “You know, Justin had a stuffed bear when he was little that he named Gus.”

“No, I didn’t know that.” Brian smiled back at her.

“But, I’m not a father.” Brian had become too uncomfortable with his vulnerability, so he put his walls back up. “I simply gave a donation so that my friends could have a child.”

Jennifer’s hand landed on top of Brian’s, “I would hazard to guess Justin sees you better than anyone else. And since he drew you taking care of your son, I’d say you are a dad.”

#queer as folk #brian kinney #justin taylor #fanfiction #alternate universe #asexual spectrum representation

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lothli · 2 months ago

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VII: Cicatrices Reliquimus

I trudged back home, my body operating more on instinct than with any conscious thought. My heart ached and burned, the blood in my veins seemed to move just a bit slower than before. I sat in my chair, my hands still coated in gore, my head empty. The knife, my knife, sat, cold and keen and pristine, radiating its awful aura, buried deep within my table.

The blood had stopped flowing long ago, coagulating a deep red against my skin. It was not mine. None of it was mine. I stared at it for what seemed like an eternity, the numbness within me only deepening.

The shower was scalding, but I felt nothing. My flesh turned red and raw, and I stared. The warmth should have reminded me of something, yet I remained cold, distant. Unfeeling. My tears fell silently, and my hair and skin were clean. Yet the blood remained, staining not my body, but my soul.

The blade was still there when I emerged. It still had that sharp, disquieting smell, neither blood nor ozone. Something wrathful, something that cursed all of existence.

I passed it by, walking out to my kitchen, only to be stopped by a voice. A familiar voice, if it could even be called that, growling in my ear. It called for division, for anger. It had shown me visions of a dissevered sun and told me that it would bring the same to me, to this city. To the cults. And I would be its fangs, to be wielded against all of existence. It whispered its name: The Wolf Divided.

I turned on my heel. "Why? Why have you chosen me?"

The Wolf did not answer, at least not with words. But it flooded me with its anguish, only satiated with the destruction of the very things it despised most: the Hours and all of their kin, and last, and above all else, itself. It wished to end it all so, finally, it could end its own wretched existence. It saw its hatred within me, my yearning for revenge, my loathing of the cults. It wished for me to be strong. Strong enough to end the Hours and then itself.

The blade called, its edge sharper than I ever thought possible, its keen song the most beautiful music to my ears. It called me. And so, I must answer.

My fate was sealed. The Wolf would not let me go. I would be its fangs. Its instrument, to end its existence. But that did not mean I would not struggle.

"You do not own me. I will not let you take over my body, my soul." My voice shook, my fists clenched tight.

The Wolf did not reply, its anger palpable in the air. I stood, unmoving. I hated to admit it, but our aims aligned. If I complied, I would have the power to end the cults and perhaps even the Hours they worshipped. But at what cost? How many more innocents would I bleed? I would be no better than the very people I despised, an indiscriminate killer under the service of an Hour.

"No," I spat. I would not submit to it. I would carve my own path without the help of the Wolf.

It growled in response, spitting its vile hatred. But within that hatred, I felt a smug certainty. Almost as if it was sure I would return to it. It could wait.

I sat back down in the chair, my knife, its knife, still buried within the table. I picked it up, the metal still as cold as death, the stench of sharpness still in the air. It was no ordinary knife anymore, that was for certain. Steeped in Winter, Edge, and the blood of a Long, it had been remade anew. Now, it was the fang of a wolf. And I would have to carry it, for I had no other weapon. No other choice.

I left it there, staring at it. It shuddered, its anger like a tangible force, but it would wait. It was my tool, and it would be wielded by my will alone. The Wolf was wrong to think that I would ever bend to its whims.

I would use it as a weapon against the cults. Nothing more.

---

The Children were dead. They were gone, and the city had no more to fear from them. But the others were still active, and their cultists walked the streets, scrambling to fill the power vacuum.

I bought myself a second knife, one untouched by Winter, Edge, or blood. Its steel was dull, and its Edge was lacking, but I made do. I was more than enough to make up for my weapon's deficiencies. The Wolf's Fang, as I began to call it, was kept strapped to my leg, where it had always resided. But it would not see any more action. I needed none of the Wolf's vitriolic blessings. Not if I could avoid it.

And so I tracked the cults down. Their members, their cultists, I would cut them down. Even with my dulled knife, it was far too easy. When I wasn't looking, I had become far, far stronger than I'd realized.

They were too weak for me, too slow, and too few to do anything about me. Scrabbling vermin, fleeing before their inescapable end. And with each kill, each life snuffed, I felt the Wolf's approval, its nihilistic delight in death and pain, its desire for an ending to everything it loathed. And so I continued to cut. But each flash of my blade would not be done in the Wolf's name, nor its hate. It would be my hate, my duty, and mine alone.

---

The cultists were dead; their cults were excised. None amongst them had a Long, so they fell with nothing of note. I thought of the Moth Long, who used to dwell in this city, but I could not find him, no matter where I looked. Perhaps he fled upon seeing my power, or perhaps his capriciousness had led him away through no fault of my own. But the cultists were dead, and their plots unraveled.

I was at a loss for what to do next. I had lived for my revenge against the cults, against the people who took everything from me. But the cults had fallen. They were gone, their remnants shattered, and their leaders slaughtered. All that remained was... me.

The Wolf Divided still called. It growled, reminding me that my city was only one of many. It showed me other cults in other cities, snippets of their condemnable actions and their prayers to their Hours.

The Wolf asked me if my hatred was truly satiated.

I knew the answer was 'no', but I still resisted. This was what it wanted, to wield me against all it despised.

But what was left for me if I rejected the Wolf? To grow complacent within my city, satisfied with my meager victory? The other cults remained, far away in their own festering cloisters, and they would need to be cleansed as well. The Divided One's goals and mine were aligned, no matter how much I would wish otherwise. But I was still not the Wolf, and I would never be the Wolf. Never again would my hatred, the edge of my blade, be turned against the innocent. Never again.

I owned few possessions. The clothes on my back, a worn notebook of occult knowledge scavenged from the cults I demolished, and my knives. And now, I was ready to leave. The cults within my city were destroyed. They would not recover for many years. My presence was needed no longer.

A more sentimental person might have lingered, dwelling on some past memory or some fond remembrance. But I had no need for such things as I left without turning back.

#cultist simulator #book of hours #creative writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #fanfic #fiction #wolf divided #the wolf divided #an unmaking #tarballfeatherparade

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maegalkarven · 1 year ago

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I love how differently Levi and Gortash deal with their feelings for each other.

Because thing is: Levi is a simple man. He is a simple and emotional man, so strong feelings are not new to him, and he never actually dwells on them enough for them to be distressing or to realize what these feelings are. (at least pre-tadpole).

He wants Gortash for himself, body and soul. His Father says he can't have him. Which, combined with newly awoken by Gortash feeling of superiority and "But I Am God" complex, and the fact what Levi hasn't asked for anything before, kicks the strongest defiant response Levi ever had. "What do you mean "no"? What do you mean I can't have him? I know you're god, but so am I; I am your hopes and dreams, I am you come anew- You cannot deny me that."

Gortash's involvement is what finishes Levi's splitting into something other than just Bhaalspawn, which started when he was ten and began to learn what it's like to be a druid.

For Levi feeling what he feels is natural, it's a flow of water, there's no reason to resist feelings, only obstacles on his way.

For Gortash tho? Oh, he absolutely resists these feelings. He fights them tooth and nail and nothing works. His feelings for Levi make him human again, after he has worked to hard to claw his way out of humanity, after he stumbled and fell all the way to being Above.

But feelings for Levi drag him back, make him flesh and blood again (they do the same to Levi, but Levi hardly notices that. He gets less "force of nature" and more "person", but the difference is subtle).

I think Gortash despises these feelings, hates feeling this way. He takes the best out of the worst situation and works on making Bhaalspawn dependable on him, but even that is a small comfort.

I think at some point he wants Levi gone, completely out of the existence and his life-

Only to get what he wished for when Orin strikes.

He got what he wanted, Levi is no more, and he is free to proceed with his plans as intended.

But why does it feel so wrong? Why does it feel like someone cut a piece out of him and made a run with it? Why is the world suddenly so bleak, so...insignificant?

He got what he wanted, so why isn't he happy?

I think Enver only accepts the depths of his feelings for Levi when Levi is gone.

And so when Levi is back, he is determined to never let him go.

#dark urge: levi #durgetash #dark urge x gortash #the dark urge x enver gortash #gortash x durge #meanwhile levi has an introspection on his past life and actions and is like: oh I'm practically married to this dude. we are a Couple.#“we were Mates.”#team: “You're who????”#levi: “two animals what bond for life. that's who we are”#team: “levi NO”#levi who's defiance start-kicks at that bc someone told him he can't have it once and he DIDN'T like it: “#“what do you mean 'no'? who the fuck are you to decide? who are you to tell a god no?”

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jenuinely-speaking · 8 months ago

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So, @luckycharms1701 Inspired me by this It's been a rough couple of weeks. And I mean rough. And the fic I'm working on for the boys, even though is fun, is heavy in Angst (capital 'A', yes; listen, listen--I did not plan for my first fic in over ten years to be the one out of the nine that was filled with Angst, okay? Dices were rolled). Needless to say, not only did this speak to me but it full on grabbed me by the collar and crushed me in a tight bear hug until my body went "Okay." Especially Donnie's segment. It hit hard. Not only because I am that friend, but I have friend that has done this for me before. So, before I did anything else today, I had to write this out. I love your writing, Luky, and how your ideas hold sparks. So, I hope you don't mind that I wrote a little fic inspired by your Donnie segment. Disclaimer: I've never written anything for Rise before, so I hope This Donnie reads okay. I am open to critiques, as I am still getting use to the Rise characters. Note: Everyone I write is aged up to be at least in early 20s

The strained sob surprised even me when he answered, and I cursed myself for cutting off his greeting. "What's wrong? What happened." Okay, slight panic in his voice. Definitely need to calm him down (funny how that works) before anything else. "Nothing," my voice cracked and strained as my throat refused to work, fuck me, "I-I just..." Okay, deep breadths. Deep. Breadths. "Okay, I can hear you doing your breathing exercises, but I need you to tell me what's going on."

When my eyes closed, the tears finally fell as the strain in my chest let loose in anxious pain. It was all I could do not to have the full break down right then with him on the line. My lip ached as I bit it hard to stop its quivering and to keep everything at bay while I rubbed my fist against my chest in a pitiful sense of self-soothing. But most of all, this was to keep me from doubling back and saying 'nevermind'--he absolutely hates when I do that, and I have promised that I would be better. Especially in cases like this. My eyes opened slowly when he called my name. It was like they, coupled with his voice were the veil to open up my disassociation so I could at least attempt to talk.

"I'm sorry if you're in the middle of your project, I know--" I paused and flinched when he said my name once more, clipped this time. Right. I also promised that I would stop apologizing when I'd call randomly. 'If I answer, then you're not disturbing me. Stop apologizing; you're not wasting my time if I decide to give it to you.' His words from prior conversations rang clear in my mind and I backtracked to start my brain over. The tears started anew as I took in a wet breadth, "I hate asking this, but..." One more pause. I can do this. I can do this. "I really need you right now, Don. Can you please come over?"

The line was cut just as another whimpering sob escaped my throat at the end of my question. I allowed myself to finish it out and let the tears flow with a wince for only a few moments; if I let it out now, I wouldn't be able to let Donnie in when he arrived. With a few deep breadths and many, many tissues I finally moved to the front of my apartment and watched the large windows on the skylight balcony. Knowing that it would be at least fifteen minutes, I drew my knees up tightly against my chest and curled on the cushioned high-back chair. To busy my brain from anything, I searched the deep night sky for any stars that the city would allow. As always, the brightest was Venus; a forever companion in the morning and the evening, no matter the location. As I began to get lost on mentally reciting the many cultures that possessed legends surrounding the planet, a bulky silhouette appeared and startled me. Two taps came from the large window, and I scrambled over to unlock the large skylight. Before I could even hug him, let alone before he was fully inside, Donnie slung a bulky and large cloth bag from his back and into my arms. Ah, this explained his weird silhouette. Made sense. "There's a little something extra in there, as well, since we haven't been able to find your old one after your move." The slight spark in his eyes did nothing to hint on what he referred to as he closed the skylight. It drew my curiosity wild. Opting to see what he brought now instead of waiting a couple more minutes, I set the bag on the table next to the windows and pulled out the items. He waited patiently close by, nearly hovering as I unpacked his bagged presents. I didn't mind, in fact his hovering presence helped relax me further. I blinked at the first couple of items that I pulled out. A box of my favorite chocolates (not just a small one, a big one--it'll take me over a week to finish this off) and a...hold on. "...Donnie, I love you. But you know I have this movie, right?" I grinned up at him as he took CLUE out of my hands, his own grin plastered on his beak. "Ah, you may have the usual DVD copy and the digital on three separate systems, but this, my dear is the Collector's Edition. Behold," He opened the intricate designed box and turned the DVD case to show the back. I followed his finger as he read the words aloud, "Interview from the writer and director, behind the scenes on making the movie, AND behind the scenes on creating the score." He placed the DVD case back in the sleeve of the decorative box and handed it back to me, that grin of his still present with the spark in his eyes, "I've cleared my schedule for the night and set everything to DND. We can watch whatever you'd like on this, or all of it if you'd prefer." Tears welled anew in my vision, and I stole that hug from him right there. He didn't hesitate on returning it, which warmed my chest even more as he wrapped his arms around me, nuzzled his beak in my hair and churred. I finally felt myself smile with warmth; still sniffling and having anxiety pains, but there was a break.

Continue reading -> I Need You - Jenuinely - Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018) [Archive of Our Own]

#I Need You #tmnt #rise tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt donatello #rise donnie #donatello x reader #supportive donnie #tmnt one-shot #jenuinely writes #inspired writing #saturday morning writing #wrote this instead of adulting #first post on new blog

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glamphantasm · 1 year ago

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Prompt 8

Mammon and Asmo have brought/dragged MC out to the Fall for a huge party! What’s MC doing? Are they having fun?

(8 & 7 are reversed in order, because I read the list wrong. Oops?)

Kai didn't know why he was surprised when the sleek maroon and silver limousine had pulled up outside the House of Lamentation.

"What, did you think we were going to walk?", was the amused reply. "Or that I'd let myself be nearly killed by letting Mammon drive?-"

"OI! Y'ain't one to talk y'know! You tried drivin' ONCE and decided it was too much."

The human couldn't hide his grin as they piled in to the back, listening to the two argue good-naturedly. It had been a relaxed few hours, exhausting in its own way as Asmodeus emptied out his seemingly endless closet to find Kai something suitable to be seen in.

"This IS the biggest event of the month you know~ You're just lucky we're the same height, but I really hate that everything's a little too big for you."

Kai ignored the comment. He couldn't see any reason to respond, instead reapplying a bit of gloss which had smudged off, gazing into the mirror at the peacock and gold paint that hugged his features. He had of course known Asmodeus was brilliant with a palette, but they'd truly outdone themself this time. The effect was somehow stark and baroque at once, vaguely unsettling.

As the car drew closer to downtown, Kai leaned his head against the window, looking out at the skyline with its mix of familiar and unknown buildings. The Devildom was still small in comparison to what he was used to, and it was always a shock to realize it anew. He gazed past his reflection in the window, as Mammon spoke, "What's this party tonight for again? Who's gonna be around?"

Asmodeus sighed, light from passing street lamps catching on exquisitely jeweled liner as he rolled his eyes. "I told you twice already, it's a release party that FabSnap put together - multiple labels! Everyone will be there~ That's why it's so important to be seen~" the demon was buzzing with energy as the car drew ever-closer to the club, a line of similar vehicles pulled to one side as they made the final turn, twin spotlights flanking the edges of the club's property, and a fairly impressive crowed gathered along each side of the walkway.

"Asmo... is that a fucking carpet? And paparazzi?!"

The human's outburst was met with a manic giggle and nod. Kai and Mammon's eyes met as they shared a look that spoke volumes. The two raised glasses in a silent toast, downing the contents in a synchronized swallow.

(you should have known - four, five hours getting ready? seemed excessive)

Their outfits were of course, coordinated.

Asmodeus looked as though he had stepped out of a renaissance painting by way of a fetish ball.

(The sort of look Galliano wishes he could have come up with for that one line)

A floor length vest was held closed at the throat with a soft black leather collar, frothy layers of iridescent pink fabric creating a gradient of tones that spilled like sea foam at sunrise over the ground, silvery brocade embroidered throughout, speckled with minuscule golden beads to catch the light with matching, barely there shorts beneath. Long, matte black leather boots and gloves with the scorpion's tail wrapped from right shoulder to hand, stinger curving around their index finger to form one of the most dangerous rings in the three realms.

The demon flowed down the carpet with a dangerous androgynous grace, flanked by silent sentinels clad in black leather, cropped jackets a swirling mosaic of silver and gold crystals and gemstones, flashing sunbursts with each photo taken as all three made their way towards the door, pausing for pictures at the marks.

As the three made their way through check-in, impressively heavy gift bags being pushed towards each individual passing by; there was a vibration like thunder, the club's lighting becoming an ever-shifting lurid red.

The Fall was not yet what it would become, but was still the largest club the Devildom knew. A makeshift VIP section was cordoned off, each booth bearing an ornately scrolling plaque with an invitees name. Asmo let out a squeal that was mostly hidden by the music throbbing through the area, and darted ahead.

(this is his first event. less than a month ago the brothers were being shunned as angels still)

Kai paused to snap a picture of the nameplate, knowing they would want this memorialized.

A text. Simple. Three words. "Where are you?"

The reply was quickly thumbed, before the DDD was muted. "Out."

Kai adjusted the three bags he was holding with a vague bit of annoyance. He placed a hand on Asmodeus' lower back, leaning close. "Taking these to the car." A gloved hand caressed his jaw, and he couldn't help but lean in to the touch. "Such a good Attendant, hurry back~!" Kai nodded, preening at the scrap of praise.

Taking a service corridor he knew led to the parking lot, Kai shivered, the sticky heat of the club quickly dissipating into the cold night.

A quick glance of the lot was enough to see that their car had not yet made it in. Following the side of the building, he hummed quietly, blinking as he emerged from the glorified alley into the street proper, momentarily blinded by lights and flashes after the dark. He felt a hand on his shoulder and pulled away instantly on the defense, a spell crackling at his fingertips.

"Hey, calm down. You nearly ran straight into the line", came a smooth voice as the hand dropped.

Kai blinked a few more times, silently cursing inferior human vision. As the flashes cleared, a smiling face came into view. Kai looked the demon up and down, taking in the short horns jutting up straight from his temples, and a mane of shaggy red hair that cascaded past his shoulders.

(holy shit he's hot, if this were any other night...)

The human smiled, "Shit. Sorry about that."

"No problem. You need to get in? I'd be thrilled to have you on my arm for awhile."

Kai shook his head, gesturing with one of the bags. "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm just putting these in the car."

"Your car?"

"No. No. The family I... work for."

That earned a long look from the demon, forked tongue flicking over his lips. "Fancy boy, huh? Hope he treats you good, humans are rare in these parts...", a slow, lazy grin sent a spike of arousal straight through him.

(another night, you were going to behave, remember?)

Kai smirked. "I'm here kinda often, one of the perks of the job."

The demon shrugged, arching a pierced eyebrow. "Maybe I'll see you around again, fancy boy.", he turned as the line moved, dismissive.

Kai nodded, smirking as he found the car half a block later, mind still occupied and turning over the short conversation.

As Kai he made his way back to the table, Asmodeus leaned to speak into the human's ear while they entered the VIP area once more. "Darling, I had no idea you knew how to work a camera like that ♡"

Kai laughed, eyes dancing with mischief. "It was a change to be clothed."

"You're joking.", the tone was halfway between disbelief and hope.

"Hundreds of them in the human world. Good luck with the search."

The appraising look was its own reward.

Mammon caught up as Kai slid into the curved booth. "Trying to lose the Great Mammon already! Whisperin' like that, like you two have enormous secrets."

Grinning, the human leaned past Asmodeus to address Mammon. "No secrets. I was just telling Asmo about some modeling I did back in the human world."

Greed leaned closer, intrigued. "No shit? I've thought about it, seems like easy grimm."

"Tons if you're willing to do it wearing nothing but body glitter and cum.", Kai was honestly proud of the deadpan delivery, even more so as Mammon choked on his drink.

"What the hell!", he managed to choke out, red to the tips of his ears. "You can't just say that!"

"Seems I did, though."

Asmodeus cackled, biting his lower lip. "You sure you don't have any of those handy?"

"Afraid you'll have to hunt them down yourself. So much for maintaining mystery."

Mammon eventually caught his breath, and the conversations continued, though he could no longer meet the human's eyes.

Kai sipped at his drink, listening to the banter, and watching as the event progressed.

(take it easy tonight. that's the plan. two, maybe three drinks tops. don't embarrass anyone. best behavior. don't be a disappointment)

Inhaling deeply, air heavy with smoke, sweat, and the lingering scent of alcohol spilled long ago, Kai chatted up demons who stopped by to mingle, smiling, charming, deflecting those who overstayed their welcomes. An easy night really. Marketing events weren't all that different than any other events, and he'd done similar often enough back

(five years ago)

in the human world.

Shaking his head a bit, Kai leaned over, offering the club equivalent of "be right back", complete with hand motions. A questioning look was offered, and Kai tipped his nearly empty glass in response.

Finishing the first drink as he crossed to the bar, he paused, taking a minute to look around. The dance floor was only a single level, and it was likely no one had even thought of the eventual balconies from which those lucky (or devious) enough to be considered VIPs could stare down on the masses of writhing bodies.

(how could it be five years? it didn't make sense.)

Gesturing for another drink, Kai leaned against the bar, breathing a deep sigh. As he waited, he turned, to look out over those gathered, the dance floor crowded with bodies packed together tightly, small clusters of demons around various tables and seating areas.

Spinning back to grab his drink, a familiar face came into view. "Fancy boy. Didn't think you'd come looking for me so quick."

Shaking his head, Kai picked up the clear drink. "Figured I wouldn't have to."

"Quick. I like that."

Taking a slow sip, Kai met the demon's obsidian eyes., "Not tonight, I'm afraid."

"No? That's too bad. Vyleon, by the way."

Kai smiled, licking the rim of the glass. "A shame. But I'm on the clock, and should be getting back."

Vyleon leaned in close, resting a hand on Kai's hip. The human felt the same spike of lust run through him again.

"What's the rush, Kai? One drink, we'll stay right here. The Angels are even in view."

Kai pulled back, mustering all the contempt he could manage.

"Shit way to talk about the demon that embodies your sin."

Vyleon smirked. "Told him you'd figure it out fast. You're smarter than Solomon gives you credit for."

Kai turned to walk away.

"Sorcerer says you should come home tonight. He misses you."

Kai stood still, empty hand clenching into a tight fist. "Tell him I'll be back when I'm done with the brothers. He doesn't hold my leash."

The incubus clicked his tongue. "Too bad. Someone should."

Kai walked back to the VIP area with measured steps, head held high. He only let his hands shake after he put his drink down on the table.

Asmodeus was mingling nearby, turning up the charm to maximum. Mammon flopped down in the booth breathlessly, grabbing Kai by the shoulders with a wide grin. "Whassa matter, 'tendant," he slurred. "Sposed to be fun, remember?"

Kai drained the new drink in a single pull, throat working smoothly. "Mammon, promise me you won't drop me back at Cocytus Hall tonight, please?"

Mammon blinked several times, trying to clear the fuzz from his mind, before shrugging. "S'ok with me.", he leaned half out of the booth to call to his brother, "Asmo! Hey! The Attendant wants a sleepover!"

Asmodeus paused his conversation with an elegantly raised hand, glancing at Mammon with a shrug and a nod before turning his attentions back to networking.

Kai looked down at his glass, stomach knotting dangerously.

(fuck it. disaster averted for another few hours.)

He looked at Mammon, pouting as he showed an empty glass. "Get me another? Please? We can dance once you get back."

The demon began to draw in an indignant breath before shrugging as the deal sunk in. "Okay, Attendant. Just this once, and don't forget it! The Great Mammon ain't handing out favors every time!"

Kai closed his eyes for a few moments, trying to push away everything except the moment.

(maybe two more. four isn't that many...)

The music pulsed louder as the night went on, and the event wrapped up.

The lights blurred. Sweat transferred between bodies as the floor became tightly packed.

Kai closed his eyes as he danced, smiled, laughed, forgot.

#obey me nightbringer #obey me #obey me oc #obey me mc #obey me asmodeus #obey me mammon #this one took awhile.

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