#made me burst into tears in under 60 seconds just now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gremlin-dreams · 5 days ago

Text

Another dark dream: The Mobsters

My partner (lets call him Eddie, fake names for privacy) and I, at home, I'm his wife, I'm pregnant, Juju (our cat) is alive, and the time frame is screaming the 60s. He gets into some trouble accidentally when he and his boys piss off the wrong people and it turns out they are like part of some mob, Eddie didn't know.

When he gets home he tells me all about it, and I get to announce that I'm pregnant (I'm still slim enough to only juuuust be showing but it's far enough along that the baby is like an actual little baby, not just a clump of cells) and he is ecstatic, but worried about bringing about danger, so he grabs his coat and heads out, intending to apologise and fix the problems his boys created.

Unfortunately, maybe fifteen minutes after he leaves, I'm feeding Juju and cooking dinner, and two men break in, one older, one younger, maybe 40s and 20s. I hid in the kitchen in this sort of like coat cupboard behind the door, but they were wrecking the house and they were about to kill Juju, and I knew that meant that if they found me they'd probably hurt me too, and I couldn't stay there, listen to them murder my cat and wait for them to find me. So I am in tears, terrified, I slip out of the cupboard shaking like a leaf and I grab two knives from my kitchen block.

I was trying to get down the hall silently enough to make it to the door, but almost got caught and ducked into the bedroom at the last second. Unfortunately the older guy burst in and saw me, and kicked the younger one out whilst undoing his belt to "Show Eddie's missus what real men were like". He got close enough to grab me and tried to pull me down to bed level when I pulled out the first knife and stabbed it over his shoulder into his back really as hard as I could multiple times. It wasn't a silent thing between the sound of the knife going in and out, and his agonised and enraged yelling, it was horrible, I was murdering a man, but it was him or me. I could not stop shaking, but I did not have the luxury of feeling my trauma right now, it wasn't over, I still wasn't safe.

He screamed and yelled out and fell forward onto the bed all bloody and I left the knife in his back like an idiot but I still had the second knife, it was like the semi-big triangular knife you get, like the butcher's one. I made a break for the door despite this guy yelling his head off as he suffocated on his own blood, and I made it into the hall until I felt these arms wrap around me, immensely tight, their chest meeting my back with this thud, the younger one grabbed me.

I screamed and turned around and struggled, trying to do the same thing I just did to the older gentleman but he caught my wrist and tried to make me drop it. In the struggle I had tried to escape in frankly any direction, and both of us intertwined sort of stumbled into the living room, we both fell over the arm of the sofa, onto the length of it, sinking into the cushions, he was on top of me, I thought it was over because he was stronger, if I'm honest, I thought I was about to die. But somehow amidst the struggle I managed to free the knife for a split second enough to plunge it into his chest. He yelled out much higher pitched than the older fella, and obviously paused looking down at it in disbelief and anger, and it wasn't quick enough for me so I yanked it out and did it again. This time he weakly sort of fell to the side, yanno like hyperventilating and stuff, just enough for me to roll off the couch, out from under him, and onto the floor, trying to pull myself away from him. So far I was only really scratched and bruised, and scared, but when I thought I might actually make it somehow against all the odds and that they were both basically dead, I feel this excruciating pain and let out a garbled scream.

I was in like a crawling position and lifted my arm and looked down at my side to see that he had pulled out the knife from his own chest, probably the only thing keeping him alive any longer, and tried to shove it my way, stabbing me in my side, it felt as if it stabbed right between my ribs. I was terrified it had hit a lung or a major organ because of where it was and how much fucking pain I was in, and he pulled it out too as he collapsed over, dead, leaving me all alone.

So there I am, in my small wrecked house, two dead mob guys bleeding all over the upholstery, and me maybe dying or bleeding out who knows, also pregnant and scared that the little one will die too. This is when I reach the patio doors in the living room and basically collapse, looking out I see Eddie's car pull up, the headlights right in my eyes. Somehow I made it, somehow I survived.

Now this is a bit odd, because it seems like there has been a time skip of many many years because we are no longer in the 60s, things feel way more modern like the 80s maybe, and Eddie is taller, more built/wide and also balding slightly (but not that old, he gives Dave Bautista vibes) and we have two daughters, around 10 and 13 (I think one was called Amelia, and I'm not sure if I caught the name of the other, maybe Sarah). But the weird thing is that in other ways there has not been that much of a time skip at all, it has been days, maybe weeks since the incident, like I'm not yet scarred, I still very much have a wound with stitches and everything. To be honest it's still a miracle that I survived and it didn't puncture a lung or something.

Anyways we are in a city/town, not too far from our home (we moved because I definitely was not living there any more) and on a little day out, anyways we are all just coming out of this strange cinema/museum combo and walking down this sort of wide decorated street, maybe a boulevard, it wasn't for cars, it had bollards, just a wide road for pedestrians, it even had these little circular small buildings in the middle every so often which housed stairs down into the train stations.

We had just seen a movie and were looking around for places to take the kids for dinner, when someone walked past me that I vaguely recognised and couldn't quite place. It was driving me mad trying to figure out where I had seen her before in that weird blue dress, and I think it was the hospital. Anyways as we are walking it bugged me enough that I just so happened to turn around to get a second look and thank god I did, because behind us, maybe like 50ft back, was this car stopped at the bollards, convertible, top down, with two or three men sat inside, leaning out, and in their hands looked to be guns. Real mob cliché I know, but it works, it's terrifying, and they are looking directly at us.

My stomach drops like when you are on an elevator or reach the top of a rollercoaster, and I swear I felt like I was about to throw up and my blood went cold. I looked at Eddie and my girls and I just said "RUN." and that was it.

I grabbed both my daughters hands and pulled them with me, Eddie running alongside us too, and when we do all hell breaks loose, I hear the guns fire a lot, not just once or twice, my daughters are crying and screaming and people everywhere start running, bodies drop down to the floor either side of us all bloody, I have to yell at my children not to look, and I'm already kinda limping from my injury in my side, it is scary.

The shots kept firing, for longer than what felt possible, and we put a considerable distance between us and them and unless they wanted to leave their getaway car they couldn't get any closer. Eventually I pulled my daughters behind the little subway station building, the only shelter we had in the middle of the boulevard, Eddie is with us, and it turns out he has been hit in the shoulder, but it is thankfully just a flesh wound but his shirt is obviously very red now and the girls are crying their eyes out. I tried to get us down into the subway station for some extra distance, an escape, but someone had managed to pull over the cage door and lock it, meaning we were just stuck there using this tiny building as cover, a big wide street filled with small scattered piles of human bodies either side of us. I am not exactly the religious type at all, I don't even really believe in an afterlife or a god, but right then, I started praying for the safety of my family. It was horrible. So many people were dead because these scumbags wanted us, and now we were trapped, basically being served to them on a bloodied silver platter.

Now Eddie pipes up with this ridiculous idea that he is going to make a break for it and go find help down this cross section road nearby, and down that road was a pub where his boys frequented because one of them was a cop and it wasn't too far from the district station, albeit cops would probably already be coming if someone had just massacred an entire street of people. I told him it was stupid and that he would die and be leaving us there alone, obviously in hushed tones for my girls' sake, and he said something like "its okay, they want me, they wanna punish me" (which thinking back is ridiculous, because yeah Eddie and his boys may have pissed off some mob members at the beginning but I was the one that had killed two of them.)

Anyways, he makes this ridiculous break for it, running as fast as he could and when I heard those guns cry out again I swear my heart stopped, but Eddie somehow made it all the way to the cross street, god it felt good to see him make it but part of me was so scared, so angry, that he had just abandoned us in danger. I knew he was doing his best and we were both traumatised, but I was now just stood there with two crying little girls, crouching and pulling them into my chest so they don't look at all the bodies on the floor around us despite the danger I can do nothing about and the agony in my side, possibly from the running with my stitches. It felt like a whole hour I was planted there like that, shaking like a leaf, clutching my daughters so tightly that I swore my arms were starting to tingle and go numb, just waiting for this inevitable moment where a man in a cheap suit holding this horrible weapon just steps around the corner and ends us all, and there was nothing I could do to stop it except maybe use my body as a shield for my children. My toes started tingling too, and going numb, and I couldn't tell if I was just feeling weak from the adrenaline or what, and one of my daughters, the youngest one, just sort of looks up at me, teary and fear filled eyes and a puffy face, with this red on her hands from gripping my shirt. At first for a split second I panicked thinking that she was hurt, that it was her blood, but it wasn't.

After this everything goes black, which is a terrifying part of the story to not get an ending to. Thankfully I woke up in a hospital and immediately started asking where my husband and kids were, I was assured they were safe. Eddie's boys were with me and told me about how all the boys had split up to take shifts and make sure that none of my family were alone. Eddie was getting his shoulder treated and the kids were being looked after in the hospital nursery usually for staff, and all of them had like one cop and at least one friend with them. Turns out I had passed out from blood loss just before help arrived, because yes my stitches had come undone (which made me panic that I had just traumatised my girls even further) but Eddie had managed to get help and the cops had even managed to catch like two out of the three guys in the car.

I'm not gonna lie at first one of Eddie’s friends was being his usual jackass self, know-it-all posh twat, but after I snapped at him and kinda broke down in tears all emotional he shut the fuck up for a minute and then apologised and let me talk, let me get it all out, tell him how fucking scary it all was, regardless of how worked up and dramatic I was being, and there was this moment when I was talking about the girls and he must have been imagining his own little one, because then even he got close to breaking down and actually hugged me and apologised. He then said he would go and fetch the girls and bring them to me since I couldn't really move far, and as he left, Eddie walked in, all patched up, thankful to see me awake, walking straight to me and holding me. It wasn't exactly a happy ending but it was far better than what I thought might have happened.

#dreamjournal #dreams #dark #mob #dreamlog #mobster #60's

0 notes

the-broken-truth · 3 years ago

Note

Can I request RE8 women (Lady D 、Donna...etc,you can pick who you want to write!)be protected by a human who wear full Knight's armor,use sword and sheild to fight,and they think that knight is a man.

But one day, that knight take off the helmet,and they are wrong,the knight is a woman.👩 ⚔

Sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language.

Broken Truth (Sharpening my sword): Hm, Dimitrescu or Donna... Dimitrescu or Donna... Hm... Why not both? Let the words weave together!

[Mother Miranda's Chapel - During A Lord Meeting]

"Thus, it would be better if you all were to... Alcina!" The Raven Winged Woman yelled out all of a sudden, causing the regal woman to jolt in her seat and almost drop her cigarette.

"Huh?! What?! Yes, Mother Miranda?" She asked as she looked at the woman in the golden mask.

"In case you forgot where you are - we are in the middle of a meeting and you are allowing your mind to wander instead of remaining focused. Care to explain why you are so distracted?" Miranda asked as she folded her arms with a glare under her mask.

"Please, forgive me, Mother Miranda - I was still...trying to analyze something that happened yesterday. You see - a few of the village's man-things decided to attack my castle." Alcina began.

"What's new about that? You report an attack on your castle once every two to three weeks; what makes this one so different that it's distracting you from the meeting?" Miranda asked.

"Well, Mother Miranda - It wasn't the event itself but the person who came out of nowhere and slaughtered all of the opposers." Alcina said with a slight blush on her face.

"Person? What person?" Miranda asked.

"Well... A Knight."

[Flashback - The Day Before - Attack On Castle Dimitrescu]

Once again - the reckless males of the village gathered again to attack the residents of the grand castle that overshadowed their home, but there were more of them than last time. The full moon shined over the castle, lighting the area around the - there were at least 50 or 60 humans there; armed with farming equipment or small handguns. Alcina and her Daughters were standing before the grand door of their castle - claws and sickles ready - the first man who held a pitchfork made a dash for the eldest daughter but before he could even get close to her, the silhouette of a caped figure shrouded the light of the moon before the figure came crashing down in the middle; acting as a bridge between The Dimitrescus and the Opposers.

The figure rose to their feet and the light of the moon made their features known to all. They were tall - at least 7 feet tall - dressed in a black metal armor that bore wolves on the shoulders and in the chest plate, the eyes of the wolves had rubies for eyes; even the helmet was in the likeness of a wolf and the back of the legs had a tail made of fur - was it real or did the wearer hunt down a beast and take its tail as a trophy. By their side, the pommel of the sword shined in the moonlight and even that was a wolf.

"Who the hell are you?!" The man said.

"Silence, you waste of flesh and blood." A deep voice came from the helmet, making the man flinch - a male was in that suit? That would explain the height. "You dare rally drunken minds to harm your masters? You have no honor and thus no worth, therefore..." His hand came over his side and wrapped around the handle of the sword before slowly pulling it out of its case, "You have no lost your privilege of life for even having the thought of harming House Dimitrescu!" He howled as he darted at the crowd of men with the speed of a beast on the hunt.

With a single swing of his sword - the first 10 men were killed. Alcina and her daughters watched in awe as this armored man slaughtered men who harm on the Dimitrescu Family. With another slash of the massive blade, 8 more were killed. He kept at it until the last man - the one who poisoned all the others to fight a losing battle; he was shivering and dropped his weapon as the tall man walked over to him, his armor and sword dripping with the blood of his lackeys.

"You are the orchestrator of this madness - the one who weaved chaos and delusion into the hearts and minds of these men." He growled as he raised the bloody blade over his head. "It is your fault that wives have become widows, children grow without parental guidance, and fathers...bury their sons; let that weigh on your mind...as you face your creator for judgment." The sword came crashing down upon the man - slicing him right down the middle.

"That...THAT WAS AWESOME!!" The excited cry of the youngest Dimitrescu Daughter as she buzzed over to the knight and began asking him questions: Where did he come from? Where he learned to fight like that? Where he got his sword and armor? If he could teach her how to fight? The Armored Man just stared at her.

"Daniela, that's enough." Alcina said as she cleared her throat and walked over to her daughter and savior, "I thank you for your but assistance but my daughters and I could have handled them." Alcina said.

"A Lady of your stature doesn't need to sully herself with dirt - it's not worth your time or the time of your daughters. Your time is precious and should be wasted with trivial matters such as this." He said before turning on his heel and jumped so high that he was once again cast in the moon's shadow before he fell in the forest somewhere, leaving the daughters and Lady of the castle just standing there...with a light blush on the lady's face.

[End of Flashback]

"HA HA HA HA HA! Lady Super-Sized Bitch has a crush! Oh, this is so rich!" Heisenberg laughed to the point he almost fell out of his seat.

"Silence, you stupid man-thing! You're just mad that he is more of a man than you will ever be!" Alcina roared at her brother who was going to shout back when...

"Hold on, ya talking that a tall dude - black armor with wolves all over it?" Angie asked from Donna's Lap; Alcina looked at her confused.

"Yes, that's my knight." She said.

The doll burst out laughing.

"Your Knight?! That's Donna's Knight! He saved her just last week!" Angie smiled.

"WHAT?!" Alcina yelled - jealousy clear in her voice.

"Yeah - it was late one night; we were looking for a plant that grew on the edge of the valley wall when..."

[Flashback - The Valley of Mist]

"AHHH!" The Dollmaker cried out as the rock under her feet broke away and she began to fall down into the misty darkness of the valley she called her home - tears in her eyes, reaching for the growing moon in the sky that seemed to get smaller and smaller with each second. She closed her eye, waiting for the sudden impact that would end her life of misery when she felt another force - an arm secured itself around her waist and she was pressed a cold chest, she kept her eye closed until she came to a stop and slowly opened them when she came face-to-face with a metal face in a wolf snarl.

"Are you alright, my lady? That would have been quite an unpleasant fall." The deep voice spoke from the metal wolf's locked jaws - Donna's eyes widened at the shining [E/C] eyes that looked back at her from the holes in the helmet.

"I...I am alright." Donna's voice came in a whisper.

"That is good to hear. Now, let's get you back to your companion." The Wolfish Knight said as he looked up and lunged himself up the wall with one clawed hand while holding Donna with the other, refusing to let her go. The moment they reached the top, Angie ran up to them.

"Donna! Are you alright?" She yelled.

"Worry not, Little Angel; your mother is safe, I was not going to let anything happen to her." The Knight said.

"Who are you?" Angie asked.

"I have no name, Little One." The Knight said as he held his hand out to Angie, "Now, take my hand and I'll get both of you back home, it gets rather dangerous around her at this time of night." He said.

Angie looked at the black clawed gauntlet for a moment before she took it and was pulled into an embrace and sat in her mother's lap before the knight rose to his full height and carried the woman bridal style before jumping into the trees - leaping through them like a Forest Cat - before falling to the ground in front of Beneviento Manor and sat them both on their feet. The knight gave them a nod before turning away and leaping away once again - gone from their sight.

[End of Flashback]

"Well...Just because she knew him first doesn't mean that she can have him." Alcina said.

"And what makes you think you deserve him? He saved us first and Donna even saw his eyes; you didn't have a decent conversation with them." Angie said.

"He is my knight and I shall not let anyone take him from me, not even my little sister." Alcina growled at Angie.

"Hey, you can't claim him for yourself if he doesn't want you!" Donna said as she rose from her seat.

"And what makes you think he wants you, little dollmaker?" Alcina smirked.

"I don't know what he wants but if he were here, I would as him!"

Oh, fate - how you be a lady.

The Window above Mother Miranda's head caved inward and two figures came crashing into the stone floor of Mother Miranda's Chapel - the first being one of Karl's Massive Lycans - The Varcolac - and...

THE KNIGHT?!

He was holding the beast by its head as it tried to sink its teeth into his armor. The Varcolac's hand lashed out and knocked the knight into one of the stone walls - making a large hole in it.

"My Knight!" Both Alcina and Donna yelled out before glaring at each other, "Your Knight?!"

A flash of black bolted out of the hole and metal arms wrapped around the beast's neck before twisting - snapping its neck. The Knight dropped the dead creature and exhaled before the wolf face he wore began cracking and broke away: revealing [H/L] [H/C] hair, [E/C] eyes, [S/C] skin with a scar across the face and...

A feminine face?!

THE KNIGHT WAS A FEMALE?!

The knight looked up at Miranda and the other lords before bowing in apology. "Forgive me for this interrupting, this beast attacked my home and I had to put it down." She said. Alcina was quick and was at the knight's side with her hand on the knight's shoulder.

"It's quite alright, cavalerul meu (My Knight). You had to do what needed to be done to keep your lady safe. If you wish, I can bring you to Castle Dimitrescu for a meal and a safe place to recover; it's the least I can do, Darling." Alcina blushed at her words while the woman in armor just looked at her in confusion before she was pulled away from Alcina.

"Hey, Tall One! It's been a while! Thanks for saving us from that thing. Sorry about your mask, Donna and I can get it fixed for you and you can stay with us while it gets fixed." Angie said while Donna smiled.

"Excuse me?!" Alcina said as she marched up to her little sister, the knight moving back. "I was the one who invited my knight to stay at Castle Dimitrescu while she heals, you can't roach on my bonding time with my future partner!" Alcina yelled at the veiled woman.

"And who said she wants you, Alcina?! Didn't you see if was uncomfortable with the way you were touching her?! It's clear she doesn't want you!" Donna yelled back.

"She does! Don't you, cavalerul meu?!" Alcina turned to the knight...only to find her gone. "What?!" She looked around, "Where did she go?!"

"She jumped back out that window while you two were arguing. Looks like she doesn't want either one of you." Karl smirked.

"SHUT UP, KARL!!!" Donna/Alcina/ and Angie yelled at him.

[End]

#resident evil 8 #alcina dimitrescu x female reader #donna beneviento x female reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #re8 x reader

522 notes · View notes

ms-rampage · 4 years ago

Note

Hello. You must be tired of me, no I really like the way you write. Can I ask imagine for Supernatural? Y/n is the sister of the archangels and Chuck's favorite daughter. After being captured and tortured by Asmodeus, y/n is broken, and Chuck tries to support his daughter. Please. I really like the kind Chuck who takes care of his children)

The Broken Archangel

No its fine! I don't mine 😁😊

Summary: Y/n is kidnapped and tortured by Asmodeus for several years. She’s rescued by Arthur Ketch, and is taken to the Winchesters, where God makes the discovery of his youngest Archangel.

Warnings: Some language, mentions of torture and rape. I apologize in advance. This might be a little bit dark.

______________________

Y/n was captured by the Prince of Hell, Asmodeus while she was protecting her older brother Gabriel.

She was taken to Hell where she was tortured and completely drained of her grace. Torturing her in ways, for her to give him the locations of her elder brothers Gabriel and as well as Lucifer either one of them.

She spent 8 years in Hell, being drained of her grace, making her a broken Archangel with little no no powers.

He was feeding off her grace, keeping her locked up in the deepest parts of Hell. Sewing her mouth shut.

Locking her in a cage inside a dark room, keeping her in solitary confinement.

She was basically his “little pet”. He drained her dry of her grace to make himself powerful and be ruler of Hell. Other than him torturing you, taking away your grace, he did other unspeakable acts to you, that you wished to never speak of, or even think of. With him weakening you, he knew you wouldn’t be able to fight back or defeat yourself.

Making you feel dirty, disgusted and making you want to kill every demon in Hell. Wanting to kill that white suit, KFC dickhole.

“So Y/n?” he asks, holding a sharp blade in hand wiping it with a hand towel “Where are those two brothers of yours?”.

You say nothing, sitting on the floor staring down at it, with a metal collar around your neck, attached to a chain on the wall.

You knew he was asking about Lucifer and Gabriel because Michael and Raphael are dead. He knew your grace wasn’t as strong as theirs.

“I asked you a question doll” he says, kneeling in front of you. You don’t dare to look at his face because you’d want to bitch slap him, and you would.

He straightens his posture, and grabs you by your hair, pulling it to make you look up at him.

You cry out, you try to hit him back but the chains around your wrists prevent that.

“I asked you a question, and you will obey it!” he growls, “I know your grace isn’t as strong as your brothers. I’m nearly done with you, a good 60% done with you. So where is Lucifer, and/or Gabriel?!?”.

You didn’t know the locations of Lucifer and your “twin”. Even if you did you weren’t gonna give them up. Finally being able to speak.

“Fuck off” you wince out. Knowing that response wasn’t gonna go well with this demon.

He clicks his tongue, kneeling in front of you again. “You know I’ll break ya, and when I do I’ll just dump out like the angel trash you are”.

Fast forward to several years later, and still under the torture of Asmodeus.

You are rescued by the British Men of Letters. Arthur Ketch because him and the Winchesters needed the grace of an Archangel to keep a rift open to go into the Alpocalypse world.

Since Lucifer and Gabriel were nowhere to be found, AU Michael is a douchebag, but Team Free Will weren’t the only ones looking for an Archangel.

Chuck spent the last several years searching for his youngest Archangel, his favorite daughter. Going from one world to another searching for her. Every universe he had created to find her since she left Heaven.

When Ketch brought her to the bunker, to the Winchesters, Chuck was able to track her down. On Earth in Kansas.

Him, and along with his two sons went to her location.

“Wait, wait” Ketch says to the two brothers aiming their pistols at him, he lifts his arms up to show that he means no harm ”I come bearing a gift”. He pulls you from behind the wall by your arm, showing you to Sam and Dean.

They put their guns down, looking at you and Arthur confused.

“Uhhh who is that??” Dean asks, pointing to you.

“This is Y/n” he tells them, sitting you down on a chair in the library, “Archangel Y/n”.

They look at each other, still confused. “Archangel??” Sam asks him.

He clears his throat, putting his bag on the table “Yes Archangel”.

“I thought there were 4 Archangels??” Dean asks, glaring at him.

Shaking his head, “Nope, there are 5. Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, Gabriel and her” he tells them, pointing to you.

You sit there, staring off into space. Your lips sewn shut, your all bloody and beaten after years of torture. Zero grace left in you.

Stammering, and not knowing what to say “I don’t-. Where did you-” Sam not knowing what words to use.

“Where did you get her??” Dean asks Ketch for Sam.

He sighs, “From Hell, she’s a feisty, stubborn one. She’s low on grace but enough to open the rift”.

You’re still in a trance, zoning out when it’s broken by another celestial energy in the room.

“Y/n!” a familiar voice shouts, Sam and Dean turn around, and see Chuck, a worried and scared look on his face. Seeing you for the first time in several years, possibly centuries.

You look up, and see your father. Eyes widened, even though you look, and are broken. Can only express one facial reaction, he can tell you wanted to cry.

You look up and down at him, as he cautiously approaches you. Thinking that this is all some game Asmodeus is playing with you, when he reaches to move your hair away from you face, you wince away from his hand.

Scared for anyone to even touch you. When Ketch rescued you, you were terrified, you had no idea who this British man was. So you didn’t trust him, even if you couldn’t tell him. He knew you didn’t trust him.

“I’ve been searching for you” Chuck mutters to you, “For centuries, I’ve been looking for you. I thought I would never find you”. Almost in tears, his voice starts to break, looking at what has become of you. How weak and broken you’ve become.

Dean clears his throat, getting his attention, “I don’t mean to interrupt. But why didn’t we, or the whole world know about a 5th Archangel??”.

He turns around to face the two brothers, “Because I never wrote about her in the Bible or in any of my stories. I wrote about the other 4, my 4 boys but her” he motions back to you, still sitting on the chair, “I never wrote about her because she was always my favorite. My favorite daughter, she’s the last of the Archangels and the only girl out of them. I needed to protect her”.

“Well looks like you did a great job” Dean sarcastically mutters.

Later that evening, they put you in Sam’s room. You sat on the bed while Sam removed the stitching from your lips. The pinching feeling of the threads being removed hurt more now than when they were put on.

Castiel enters the room, just as Sam finishes up with removing the stitching on your lips.

He looks at you in shock, you look up and see your little brother.

“Sam” he says in a soft voice, “She shouldn’t be here”. He looks at him confused.

“Why?! What’s wrong?!” he asks.

He looks over at you and says, “Because she is wanted, not only by Hell, but Heaven as well”.

He looks at Cas, eyebrows raised, “Why is she wanted by Heaven??”.

Castiel sighs, “I’m not sure, but if she’s wanted it's not good”.

“Can’t you heal her?” he asks, “Is there anyway you can do that??”.

He sighs, approaches you and puts his hand on your forehead. The second he does he hears your voice, in your own mind say.

“I must reiterate”.

“It’s not possible for an Angel to heal an Archangel” he tells Sam.

They both leave the room to give you some privacy, and alone time. Feeling free that you’re no longer chained to the wall or to the floor, and not being tortured every minute of every day.

The door opens, and Chuck steps in. Making you look away from the open door. Pressing your knees up to your chest, pressing yourself against the headboard.

“Y/n?” he mutters, slowly sitting down on the edge of the bed, “Y/n, please I want to help you”.

Being too scared to even look at your father, he sighs in disappointment.

“Y/n, I want to help you. What happened to you?, please tell me”. While Chuck is talking to you. The bunker gets two more surprise visitors.

Word got around Heaven that you were there at the Winchester’s bunker, and word got around to Lucifer and Gabriel as well.

The two Archangels made their way to the bunker even though they weren’t together, arriving at the exact same time. Separately. Startling Sam and Dean, making them have their guard up.

“What the hell do you want??” Dean asks, pistol ready in hand.

Lucifer rolls his eyes, “Calm down Deano, I heard a little rumor about a long lost sister” he tells them.

Gabriel appears right after he says that, “Where’s Y/n?!” he asks, frantically looking for his “twin”.

“Why are you here?!?” Sam asks him.

He rolls his eyes in annoyance, “It’s quite obvious! Isn’t it?!”. He goes down the hall towards Sam’s room, where you’re at, Lucifer follows behind him.

The two brothers follow behind them, and the two Archangels burst into the room. Startling you, making you fall out of bed onto the floor. Trembling out of fear.

Chuck tries to reassure you, “Y/n, Y/n, it’s okay. It’s your brothers”. You look up and see your older brothers.

“Y/n?!” Gabriel mutters, slowly approaching you. Chuck helps you up, back onto the bed. You look at him wide eyed, seeing your “twin” again.

“Why are you two here?” Chuck asks the other 2 Archangels in the room.

“We heard about Y/n” Lucifer finally speaks up.

Their normal conversation starts to turn into a heated argument between a father and two sons.

You on the other hand, you feel yourself grow angrier and angrier. Not at your father and brothers, but at the fact that they’re fighting about something that doesn’t even matter anymore. For the first time in several years you finally speak up. Loudly, very loudly that the whole building shakes.

“Stop!!!!” you scream loudly, causing the entire bunker to shake, making the lights flicker on and off. Making a few light bulbs burst into sparks.

Sam and Dean cover their ears, shielding their hearing from the ear piercing screech you’re producing, while the other 3 look over at you. You look up at your father and brothers. Slowly standing up from the bed.

“Asmodeus” you mutter before speaking slightly louder, “I was sold off to Asmodeus by those Pagan fuckers. I was tortured, I was abused, I had my grace stolen from me. He weakened me, he did things to me that should never happen to anyone!”.

Trying to hold back tears, “He used me for his own little affairs, he abused me. He violated me!” you scream, causing the walls to shake again. Making your lips sting from the stitch wounds around them.

You cry out these words, and they hurt even more explaining to them to your own family. The looks on all these men's faces soften, looks of empathy, looks of despair. Gabriel automatically knowing who did this to his little sister, to his twin.

“You don’t forgive those who did nothing but put you through constant pain, and torture. What he did to me you don't forget, nor do you ever forgive!. He made me feel vulnerable, live in constant fear. I was betrayed, I was backstabbed. I was protecting you two!”.

Your older brothers look at you with sadden eyes. “I was protecting you two from that Colonel Sanders demon prick!” you cry out, shouting through the pain.

Chuck trying to hold back tears. He knew deep down you're broken, and so did your brothers. Feeling horrible that their little sister, their youngest daughter went through a lot of pain and abuse just to protect her family. Knowing that she may not fully recover from the pain she endured for the last 8 years.

178 notes · View notes

hoedorokishoto · 3 years ago

Text

Trust - Part 4

Shoto Todoroki x Reader

warnings - swearing, drinking, smoking, depictions of unwanted groping/manhandling

previous | part | next

Mei was right, this dress was the best choice. It was a deep red, tight against my skin, stopping mid-thigh. The flesh plump as it spilled out the bottom. It had thin straps and a low-cut neckline, showing off my collarbones and cleavage. The two features I believed were my best.

I paired the outfit with black strappy slip ons, nothing too fancy. Something comfortable in case I needed to make a run for it.

As 7 o'clock drew closer my stomach flipped and twirled with nerves. My brain still not comprehending why I would agree to go as Sen's date. Why would I want to go to a party on someone's arm, that someone with who I hadn't even really seen this outside world with. Our meetings usually being in our dorms late at night or the occasional trip to the school supply cupboard.

I looked back in the mirror, adjusting my silver jewelry and swiping smudged lipstick from the corner of my mouth. Giving myself a once over as Mei burst into the room, red cup already in hand as she slammed the door shut again.

"Oh as if, how do you look that good?! Bitch!" She exclaimed, coming up behind me and putting her arms around me, hugging me close, her breath already smelling like various types of alcohol.

"Party started early huh?" I said, turning around and accepting her hug as she slumped into me.

"I'm nervous..." She whispered, her mouth hovering over my ear as she stood taller than me, thanks to the chunky heels she decided to wear to match her tight black dress and matching black corset. Her love of steampunk carrying over to all her outfits.

"About?" I asked, relieved that I could help Mei with her situation and get my mind off my own situation.

"I think I want to lose my virginity tonight. To Iida. Like both of us, lose our virginity to each other, but I'm so nervous that I already had 4 beers, 3 shots and half of a cocktail." She said quickly, her face quickly flushing red, from both the drinking and her confession.

"Okay, that's nice. Why would you be nervous? Tenya has been your boyfriend for a while now, he would kiss your feet if you asked him."

"I just don't want to disappoint him because I'm an inexperienced little virgin." Mei said, dropping onto my bed and putting her head in her hands. I didn't mean to but I laughed, a small chuckle that drew Mei's attention to me, tears brimming her eyes.

"You are amazing, regardless of being a virgin or sleeping 60 people. It wouldn't matter. You are an engineering genius with a heart of gold. Tenya is lucky to have you and I know for a fact that he worships you. Whatever happens between you will be exactly what is meant to happen." I said, reaching up and brushing a stray tear away. A smile appearing on her face as she shot out and hugged me again.

"I love you." She said, and I flinched. Even though Mei would be one of my best friends those words had never left either of our mouths before. I tightened my grip on her and whispered back.

"I love you too."

My body shook, the nerves almost proving too much for me as Sen and I walked hand in hand towards the 3A dorm. The tall trees that lined the walkway seeming to close me in.

"Are you cold?" Sen asked, his hand coming up and cupping my face, brushing his thumb across my cheek. I shook my head, not 100% sure if I could form a sentence. Though the air was crisp it was nice, the cold always keeping me calm and focused. And in the famous words of Cardi B 'A hoe never gets cold' and I would take that advice to the grave, because even though I did have a jacket I knew that there was no way I was going to wear it and give up how good this outfit looked.

I heard the music before I saw the lit-up building. The music was loud and being carried at least a kilometre away from the hero dorm. The sound only coming across as a beat no actual words.

"Wow, looks like they went all out!" Sen said, his hand tightening and pulling me forward, towards the doors. My heart was beating in my chest as we got closer, my feet getting heavier as we got closer.

A body came into view, the body of a person who I knew almost as well as myself. Hitoshi was sitting on the second last step, long legs stretched out as his long fingers glide across the screen of his phone, lit cigarette hanging from his lips.

"Are you so drunk already that you've started smoking?" I asked, sitting down next to him and sipping whatever drink was in his cup. Almost forgetting about Sen as he caught up and sat down next to me, his hand resting on the bare skin of my thigh. Hitoshi noticed but didn't say anything, just raised his eyebrow.

"Nothing goes down smoother than a Winnie Blue after a few drinks." Hitoshi stated with his signature lazy smirk.

"You are so philosophical after a few drinks." I giggled. Feeling Sen's hand tightening around thigh. I couldn't read his face, so for a quick moment, I used my quirk. Feeling for his emotions, wanting to know exactly what was going through his head. I was hit with a wave of nerves, then excitement and then when he looked over at me and our eyes met it was love. I quickly stopped using my quirk and smiled at him, not wanting him to catch on that I had just read his emotions. I always felt like it was a small invasion of privacy. Being able to feel and influence people's emotions.

"Ready to head in?" Hitoshi asked, getting up and flicking his finished cigarette away. Brushing off the back of his dark jeans.

I jumped up and made my way up the stairs, turning around and extending my hand to Sen, watching his face light up as he reached me.

The atmosphere hit me in the face as I pushed open the door and let the lights, music and smoke hit me. The lights were dimmed and various strobe lights were hung up in the corner of the room. Students from all the 3rd year classes were all over the common area, drinking and talking. Some people already making their way over to the makeshift dance floor.

"Finally made it." Tsuburaba said, coming up and handing me and Sen a drink. Whatever was in the red cups was unclear. Without thinking too much about it though I sipped the drink and was pleasantly surprised to taste what seemed to be vodka and lemonade. Thankful it wasn't whisky or scotch or the god-awful homebrew that Tsuburaba somehow gets his hands on.

"You look great Nanase, how Sen landed someone like you we'll never know." Tsuburaba said, whistling in my direction and earning a swift punch from his friend.

"Thanks, but it's the other way around really." I said back, looking up at Sen, smiling, his face handsome under the low light. It wasn't a lie, Sen was too good for me. I was the arsehole who seemed to be leading him on. His face growing red as he smiled down at me, his hand cupping my face again.

"I'm gonna go see the guys. You wanna come?" Hitoshi asked. By the guys I assumed he meant Denki and the other boys of 3A, the host of the party. Oh so graciously opening up their dorms to the rest of us.

"Yeah, I'll come! I'll find you in a minute?" I said to Sen, already being pulled away by Hitoshi. He just nodded and watched me with a sad smile on his face. My attention being pulled towards the rest of the party as we made our way further into the dorm.

"So... Is it official?" Toshi asked, his hand on my waist as we made our way through the crowd of people. The kitchen where Denki was coming into view.

"No, he just asked if we wanted to come together and I said yes... Nothing is official."

"His face says otherwise."

"So do his emotions." I quietly admitted, hoping the music would drown out my answer.

"You used your quirk on him?" Hitoshi asked, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Yeah, I just wanted to get a quick read on whatever he was thinking, it didn't last long. I stopped nearly as soon as I started." I admitted, still pushing my way through the sea of people.

"Did you like what you felt?"

"Not even a little bit." I said quietly, dropping my head as we made it to the kitchen, feeling Hitoshi squeeze my side reassuringly. Knowing that I would tell him everything as soon as I knew exactly what was happening.

"Oh here she is! The real life of the party!" Denki yelled as we made it into the kitchen, his drink raised high as he jumped off the counter, walking over with his arms outstretched. I gladly hugged him back, squeezing his shirt between my fingers as we hugged.

I took in my surroundings. Everyone seeming to be having a good time. Glasses full and the music loud. The constant chatter of the party-goers filling my ears as well as the music.

When I looked across the dance floor to Sen he hadn't moved, still engaged in a conversation with Tsuburaba as they sipped their drinks. The thing that did surprise me was Shoto Todoroki, sitting on one of the couches lining the dance floor, Bakugo seated next to him. His eyes staring at me, not leaving mine as I turned around and filled up a cup.

Hours passed, filled with drinking, dancing and friendly chatter with the other 3rd years. Sen never too far away from my side. Throwing back whatever drinks Tsuburaba handed him. His nerves sometimes seeping into me with the help of my quirk. Nervous about what I didn't quite know.

Hitoshi was also never too far away, watching me and Sen intently, occasionally asking how everything was going. Hitoshi Shinso, ever the father figure. Bringing me water and making sure I ate whatever food Momo and Ochaco had made.

I stumbled over to an empty couch, in one of the quieter corners of the room. Not as smoky or loud as the rest of the common area.

"Hey nerd." Bakugo said, sitting down next to me on the couch holding his beer above his head as he took a swig.

"Take's one to know one."

"Hey! I'm not a nerd, you just looked lonely."

"Oh I'm sure that's why you found the quietest corner in this whole place."

There was silence as he decided how to respond.

"Fuck you! I live here!"

Over the last 3 years Katsuki Bakugo had became my friend. Despite his gruff exterior and foul mouth, I broke him down with my rapier wit and persistence. Claiming him as a friend, even if he denied it.

I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling brave in my tipsy state. Half expecting him to flinch away or yell. But it never came, so I rested my head and watched the party continue to unfold. Mina and Aoyama currently having a very heated dance battle as we looked on, the latter sending rays of light from his mid section for dramatic affect.

"So the big 3 huh, congratulations!" I said.

"As if there was ever any doubt." He replied, a cocky smirk gracing his lips as he looked over at me.

The big 3, three third-year students at U.A. who stand at the top of the entire student body in terms of strength. Watching Bakugo over the years, I couldn't deny it, there really wasn't ever any doubt. The future hero proving himself at every possible opportunity. Same as the other two students who took up the other two spots in the big 3. Ochaco Uraraka and Shoto Todoroki.

Without meaning to I blushed, Todoroki flashing into my mind. His intense stare from earlier carved into my memory.

"I'm glad you are still my Hero Support person, your shit is cool." Katsuki said, taking another swig of his beer. His face turned away from me. I knew he meant it, I also knew that might be one of the only compliments he every gave me.

Before I could reply I was yanked up and into someone, a hand wrapping around my waist.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Sen slurred, his arm keeping me against him even as I tried to get away. Bakugo was already on his feet, looking at me, trying to gage how he should proceed.

"Sen, stop. Nothing was happening! Let me go!" I half yelled at him, still struggling against his grip.

"You heard her dickhead, let her go before you hurt her, or before I hurt you!"

Sen didn't reply to Bakugo, or let me go. He just crashed his lips against mine, shoving his tongue deep into my mouth. He tasted like beer and sambuca. No doubt the cause of his current drunken state.

"Why can't - like me" Sen tried to talk between kisses, his mouth still squished against mine.

My head swirled, the room spinning as I continued to push against Sen. His grip becoming bruising as I fought. The noises of the room were fading away and the only thing I could hear was the drumming of my heart. Beating so fast and loud, drowning out the music and what I think were Bakugo's shouts. Tear's swelled behind my eyes as he continued, his hands moving from my waist to the swell of my arse. Grabbing and pulling at my flesh. His hands causing the material to ride up.

Without another though I bit him, hard, drawing blood as he pulled back.

"You always were a bit of a freak." He chuckled, stepping closer to me, reaching his hand out.

"Stop! Get away from me!" I yelled at him. Bakugo stepping in front of me and pushing me behind him.

"You crazy fuck! What the fuck is wrong with you?" Bakugo shouted to him, his arm still firmly in front of me. His shouts drawing some people's attention towards us.

His shouts seemed to clear Sen's head, his smile dropping as he realised what he just did.

"Y/N! Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" He said, reaching out towards me again, tears brimming his eyes. Bakugo stepped back and moved me with him. Out of Sen's reach.

"Why? I like you so much! What is so bad about that? Why don't you like me back?"

"You'll let me fuck you but you won't be seen in public with me!"

I opened my mouth to reply but stopped myself. Not sure how I could respond in a way that would help the situation. My head still fuzzy from the alcohol and the situation I was just in. My eyes and legs heavy as Sen continued to yell.

"Say something! Say anything!" Sen yelled, fists clenched at his sides. Without thinking my quirk activated, a flood of emotions hitting me all at once. Anger from Sen and Bakugo, confusion from another direction and various other emotions that I couldn't place. It was like sensory overload, everything hitting my brain all at once, causing me to sway as I stepped back. Needing distance from this whole god dam situation. Not bothering to answer Sen as he called after me.

The only noise I registered was the ding of the elevator, not sure what floor I was on as I stumbled out, holding onto either side of my head. Trying desperately to stop the noise overtaking my brain. Even though I couldn't hear the music anymore every emotion that was being felt at the party was currently running through my brain, the pressure almost too much to handle. Tears fell from my eyes and my throat hurt as I yelled in an attempt to stop the noise, or get a handle on my quirk.

I shut my eyes tight as I slammed into the wall, falling against it as I slid down and bought my knees up to my chest, still screaming.

I didn't know how much time passed. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? My brain couldn't comprehend all the information that was currently trying to be filtered through it.

I jumped as something cold touched the side of my face, someone's forehead pressing against mine, cold breath fanning across my face. A voice broke through. A voice I couldn't place.

The cold calming me, making me focus on the icy sensation rather than whatever was going on inside my brain. The cold becoming my focal point. Pulling me back to reality.

"Y/N... calm down, please."

I kept my eyes shut, the cold sensation still overwhelming me as I started to settle. My breathing calming down, regulating. A cold hand pressed over my heart. A welcome sensation, as I opened my eyes.

Shoto Todoroki's two toned eyes stared at me. No, not at me, into me. His forehead pressed against mine. His breaths matching mine and blowing his cold breath across my face. The emotions slowly started to shut off, the feelings fleeting as they left me. Leaving me with only my emotions. The soft pulse of the music returning as I regained my senses.

I didn't move from Todoroki, I didn't want to. His forehead and body pressed against me becoming my anchor. I feared that if he moved, I would plummet back down into the well of everyone's emotions.

Against my better judgment, I let a tear slip down my face as I clutched to his arms that were still boxing me in against the wall, his large hands still holding my face as I leaned into him. At this moment, I needed him. More than I had ever needed anyone before.

#shoto todoroki #shoto smut #mha x reader #bnha fanfiction #shoto x reader #todoroki x reader

49 notes · View notes

softbluefanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

Truce

When I first started writing this fic, I accidentally deleted the first 2000 words and had to restart, that wasn't very nice, but I pulled through and really I hope you enjoy!

The insults. The accusations. Constantly having to defend himself. Having to play nice. It was all getting to be too much for Janus, but he had no choice but to handle it. He needed to take it in order to help Thomas, and eventually it would stop. Until then though...

"Your slippery sarcasm scale is why we are in this mess in the first place!" Roman yelled, pointing an accusing finger.

"Yeah, for real, Thomas" Virgil spat, "how can you still not see him for what he is?"

"And what would that be, dear Anxiety?" His stomach twisted as he spoke; it was tough to fight with him on a good day, but Virgil had also declared that he wasn't going to use Janus's name and that Janus wasn't allowed to use his. The only reason he agreed was to stop a fight, but in hindsight, it seemed to have not caused any release of tension from the group.

"A monster-"

"Woah! That's a bit strong, don't you think, Verg? Maybe we can take a second-" Thomas tried.

"No, it's not!" Virgil snapped. "he's been lying and deceiving us from the start, and now his advice has cost us a friendship!"

A few weeks ago, Thomas had come to them with a moral dilemma about two acting jobs. One was for a friend's production and would have meant a great deal to said friend if Thomas had taken the part. The other was a more prestigious role that Thomas has been working towards for a long while, alongside that Thomas didn't have much experience with the genre and really wanted to test himself; it also paid more. Janus had gone for the obvious choice with Logan on his side. He then won over Patton; given that other people were lined up to audition, his friend wouldn't have been shorthanded. He knew Roman secretly wanted to do the more challenging thing. It was easy after that.

"I hardly believe that that is a reasonable conclusion, Virgil." Logan slid in next to Janus, much to the latter's relief. A small genuine smile came across his face as Logan began to defend him. It always took him by such surprise; he never thought he'd be on speaking terms with the other after what he did, impersonating him. Now they had begun to quite enjoy each other's company and Logan defended him, often without hesitation: "when was it you said this play was, Thomas?"

"Uh, I went to it last week, but it ran the rest of the week too."

"And when and how frequently have you contacted this person?"

"Once that night and a couple of times today, but he still hasn't responded. He was also weird after the play, I mean we barely spoke!"

"Hence the 'issue' at hand," Janus said with air quotes and Roman positively fumed.

"Wipe that smile off your face, you deceitful dick!" He snapped and everyone in the room seemed as taken aback as Janus was.

"Running out of insults, are we, Roman?" He sneered.

"No, you...you... snake!" he shouted, still pointing an accusatory finger.

Both he and Logan rolled their eyes as Logan continued. "So, based on the fact that you have texted them during and after a busy week and they have not responded as well as being distant during a very busy production, you are concluding that they no longer wish to be your companion? Thomas, you must see that that is a bit of an extreme conclusion?"

Thomas and Vigil took a deep breath together. "Yeah, I'm sorry Logan, you're right. I should wait a minute before ringing the alarm bell."

"The figurative one I assume; although that might be an interesting way to improve the safety of your home, it would be unnecessary as the fire alarms are already operating."

"That doesn't change anything, they could be-" before Virgil could continue, Thomas's phone buzzed.

"Oh, who could that be?" Janus asked.

Thomas spoke sheepishly, looking apologetically at Janus and Logan. "It's them, they're sorry that they haven't been able to talk much and wanna go out to lunch some time."

"Well, then," Logan said with a self satisfied sigh, "if that is all I'll bid you a good night, and Thomas, remember to check your calendar before making plans."

"Okay, Logan, thank you!" Thomas rubbed the back of his neck as Logan sunk out.

"Hmmm, would you look at that, despite my villainous influences on Thomas's decision making everything turned out fine! How could this possibly be?" Janus gasped with mock shock, bringing a gloved hand to his mouth.

"This doesn't change anything, you're still-"

"Virgil," Thomas voice was a bit raised but he took a deep breath and softened, "Virgil, its okay."

The anxious side struggled for a moment, seeming to have more to say, but then simply huffed and sunk out with Roman ready to take his place in the fight.

Before that argument could move any further he held up a hand, and looked at his host. "I will see you later Thomas, don't hesitate to call if you need me." He sunk out with a calm smile from Thomas and fuming rage from Roman.

After he was back in the mindscape's living room, his shoulders slumped and his face fell before he realized that he was not alone and put on his mask once more. Every cell in his body fought against not being able to just relax, but he pushed those feelings away, making his way into the kitchen.

He was no longer going to stay in the room, but was still going to take a bottle of wine up to his bedroom. He felt like he deserved a little help to unwind.

Virgil spoke up as he looped back from the kitchen to make his way up the stairs: "I know what you're doing!" He growled.

"Do you now?" Janus huffed, he'd had too much today already and mostly responded on instinct. He hoped Virgil would just drop it so he could get onto staying in his room the rest of the night.

"I do, and I'm not going to let you hurt him!"

Janus let out an exasperated sigh and spun around at the top of the staircase. "Do you ever think I've tried so hard to get to Thomas because I care for him and want to help him?!" He meant to be snide in order to get Virgil to understand while not being vulnerable, but his voice failed him at the end, cracking.

That gave Virgil pause but he strode on. "It doesn't matter what you think you're doing. You're deceit and all you are going to do is hurt Thomas."

Janus just huffed and walked away, face turning red at his outburst. He had avoided reacting out of pure feeling since his low blow with Roman, but it seemed like they knew just how to get on his nerves and wanted him to fail so badly. He wouldn't have been surprised if that was a genuine scheme of theirs, to hit him where it hurts until he finally shows his true colors or whatever. They'd done worse.

Hot tears burned at the back of his eyes but he swallowed them down. He would not cry because of them. They would not hurt him, he was better than that and if it meant he could have Thomas's attention then they didn't matter.

But this was getting to be exhausting. The punches were coming just as hard as before and seemed to hurt worse and worse. Virgil's always stung, but the attacks were getting more and more personal. Roman was nothing compared to that, but the last few weeks every time it seemed that they were getting somewhere he'd redouble his efforts at getting under Janus' skin.

They were also in cahoots to not let him be alone with Thomas, and for a while, Patton. He actually began to get a stomach ache every time he went to go visit either, even starting to avoid them entirely before they both realized what was up and told the other two off. They could still interrupt if they found a good enough reason and used it as an excuse, which left Janus with much apprehension.

Their efforts also left him with conclusions that he was barely allowing to cross his mind, but he felt them pushing against the edges, threatening to burst out. About how Virgil and Roman are a part of Thomas and what their sentiment means about what Thomas thinks of him.

He shook himself out of his reverie and poured a glass of wine, sitting on his bed to sip at it.

His suit felt itchy and he knew he probably needed a shower. Last week he shed and that was just delightful, as always. He was more than grumpy and expected it to ruin all he had worked for but everyone was actually exceptional about the whole situation. Even Roman. It was another time he thought he might've gotten through to him but absolutely didn't. Either way, he was onto the last of it and one more good soak would do him some good.

He felt like a 60's housewife drinking wine in the bath but usually it could fix almost any issue so he wasn't willing to give it up. This time, he felt himself relax a bit, but instead of his worries washing away he felt them pressing down on him still, as if held at arm's length but ready to pounce at any moment; but in all honesty, it could just be the wine relaxing him.

He got done with a few glasses before he heard a knock on the door. "One second." Janus jumped out of the tub and carefully dried himself off and, for force of habit, assumed Remus would be behind the door, simply wrapping a towel around himself to answer it.

Which is how he caused one Patton Sanders to let out a rather loud "Oh, my!" when he opened the door, turning a shade of red that Janus did not think possible.

"Oh, my...um," Janus echoed, closing the door to cover most of himself peeking his head out. "You'll have to excuse me Patton, I had assumed you were Remus, did you need something?"

Patton was decidedly looking everywhere besides Janus, eyes curiously flitting back to his bare chest every few glances, but he really was doing his best to not look, it made Janus smile and giggle drunkenly, "You can look at me, it's fine."

They had been tipsy together before and Patton had admitted he was mad at Roman and Virgil's behavior and when that topic shifted away, feeling like he should offer something as well, he had admitted that his scales often made him feel foreign and out of place. Patton said he thought they were pretty and Janus couldn't believe that was true, and said as much. That's probably not what the moral side was currently thinking of at that moment, he belatedly realized, but didn't much care.

Patton swallowed and leveled his eyes on his counterpart's face, every few words his eyes would stray for a few moments but snap back up after realizing what had occurred. "Right, um, I just wanted to invite you to movie night at 9, um, and Thomas will be there too!"

And Roman and Virgil. "Don't wait up for me," He said after a minute of thought, he would think about though "sorry, Patton."

"No, no, it's okay!" He could tell it wasn't, but couldn't think of what to say so they just sat there awkwardly for a moment.

"Hey, daddy!" Remus saved them. "if you two wanna fuck I can leave." He laughed as Patton sputtered, walking up to them and placing a hand on each of their shoulders.

"Remus, please, you'll break him," Janus rubbed his face to stop his own laugh, keeping his tone exasperated "my apologies again Patton, have a good night!"

"Yeah, um, see you at the movie Remus" He whispered, running off as fast as possible.

"You're invited?" Janus asked, shocked. He didn't know that any of the others tolerated him, including Thomas, just that they accepted that they couldn't just ignore him.

"Oh, pfft, no!" Remus laughed, pushing into the room and shutting the door behind him, "I just showed up and nobodies told me to fuck off yet, so im still showing up!" Remus wrapped his arms around Janus' waist, leading him to the bed and leaning in for a kiss.

"It seems as though they have come to expect you!" Janus murmurs against Remus' lips. He allows the conversation to drift away when the other doesn't respond, pulling them both down over his bed. They curled up there, Remus laying on top of the other with his head nuzzled into his neck, the towel that Janus was wearing forgotten.

Their relationship had changed drastically in the last while since Virgil left. They had both come to find each other in the dark sides commons one night and opened up about missing Virgil. It was the first time either of them had been so open with the other and it was the start of a beautiful and weird thing between them. It started slowly with just hanging out all the time, but then one night Remus shakily reached over during an anime he was watching and grabbed Janus' hand. It was all fast after that, and a supposed silver lining to Virgil's absence.

"You still..." Remus mumbled, brushing down Janus' arm slowly "have some.." he picked up the snake-like side's appendage. "Janus shreds to remove," and started to slowly take off the rest of his shed. Janus just turns his head over, sighing at the satisfying feeling, content to fall asleep and deal with washing the sheets later.

"Alright, come on!" Janus lets out a whine as Remus pulls him up and takes him back to the bathroom. The other got undressed and Janus removed the water from the tub while the shower turned on, Remus quickly washed off and then walked back to Janus. "Let's get the rest of this off, hmm?"

Janus nodded and settled down on the side of the tub, it was an ornate one with golden legs on the four sides in the shape of snakes and white marble coloring on the rest. "Are you for real not going to movie night?" Janus sighed as Remus carefully took off the rest of his dead skin, if you tried to remove it too soon it burned and might even bleed, but now it was high past time and felt like bliss.

"Although I would just love to be berated all night long, I think I will be content enough to read the night away." Janus felt a little disappointed at the thought, but even Patton was starting to irritate him. He was treating the deceitful side like a hurt puppy rather than confronting the others. He knew that it wouldn't help, but a little effort in the right direction wouldn't kill.

"Buzzkill...that's fair, and if that bottle was full before it got to your room you're also shitfaced." He laughed, picking up the almost empty container and chugging the rest.

The other just nodded. There was certainty a blur around the edges of his mind growing stronger, and he leaned into Remus' touch as he massaged his shoulders far after his shed was gone the rest of the way. "I think I would just like to go to bed, okay?"

"Do you know people spend ⅓ of their life asleep, meaning that people waste 229'961 hours of their life so they can hallucinate while drooling?"

"Logan has been a bad influence on you," Janus mumbles as they both dry off and make it back to Janus' room. "You should still go, if you want."

Remus in response snuggled under the covers with Janus and closed his eyes, shrugging. "I'm good here, boo, at least until you fall asleep."

"Thank you," the yellow side grumbles, it does take awhile for him to actually rest, but Remus pulled out some sort of book Janus knew better than to look at, and seemed content enough to stay.

---

Janus woke up from a nightmare with a scream and immediately fell into a panic attack. He tried to get the air past his lungs and tore through his hair, his face and arms heavy and numb to him.

Remus was around him a moment later, hugging his shoulders and badly guiding him through a breathing exercise. It took a few minutes but he got back down to where he could speak.

"What if I'm bad for Thomas?" He whispered, hands falling into his lap, he swallowed and almost started to wonder if Remus had heard him. A mantra of monster, monster, monster, monster was cycling through his head, leftover fragments of the cacophony in his dream that was already becoming hard to remember.

"What? " Remus sounded furious, his voice a low growl and Janus folded in on himself, closing his eyes, arms going around his chest.

"Virgil said...I just...no one ever thinks that they're the bad guy, I was happy to play the part if it meant I could get Thomas to see...but what if I wasn't...?" His voice wavered, he knew he was going to regret telling Remus who exactly caused this particular episode, but maybe he deserved it after all the crap he'd been pulling.

"This has to stop!" Remus spat, voice still low. Another aspect that is opposite from Roman, when Remus gets angry it's a cold, quiet fury "when are you going get your head out of your ass, Janny? My fuckass brother gets butthurt once and you're just going to let everything slide by from now on?"

"It's not like that, I don't want anything getting in between me and Thomas or hurting him and that situation has clearly has done both, things will smooth over-"

"Will they really stop though," Remus softened. "You have proved yourself already and Thomas has even told them to chill and they are not any closer to being done with their crap!"

They both stayed quiet for awhile after that..."you're right, something has to budge, im sorry".

"You shouldnt be apologizing to me, i'm not mad at you... i'm gonna go get you some of those sleepy bears" Remus jumped off the bed and Janus didn't expect him back for awhile. At least he put pants on.

Laying back down he realized he had only slept for about two hours, and movie night was on downstairs. He burrowed down with a groan, they had to have heard him scream. He begged the universe that Remus would just go and get the melanin gummies from the kitchen and that would be the end of it.

Of course that wasn't the end of it, but at least Janus wasn't aware for a while.

---

Remus was absolutely fuming when he left the room, intending to break down Virgil's door if it killed him, but when he heard a movie going on downstairs he figured that would work too.

The movie was immediately paused as Remus thundered down the steps. He realized just now that the others probably haven't seen him this truly angry, or even this serious, and Thomas was in the room. That almost changed his mind about whatever he was gonna do when he got to Virgil, but decided that Thomas might need to be privy to the conversation.

"You" He growled, pointing at Virgil who snapped his head up at him from his usual spot. Roman tried to get in the way but Remus summoned some weird handcuff thing and threw it in his direction. It latched onto both his hands and then flew to the wall behind him, connecting to it. It then pulled him back and away. He jumped up on the couch and pulled Virgil up by his hoodie, pushing him against the wall.

"What the-" Virgil started, but Remus shook him.

"You need to put your ducklings in a row before I kill em all!" Remus noted the fear in his eyes and how tight he was holding the other, and loosened his grip.

"What are you talking about?" Virgil said, not moving. Remus was sure he would know why he was here now that it was brought to his attention. Virgil always knew when there was a spike in anxiety somewhere in the mindscape and that much from Janus would have crossed the radar.

"You know damn well what, you pitch black nightmare!" Remus spat, "Do you honestly think that Thomas is better without Janus?"

That stopped him short, and over his shoulder Remus could see everyone's head snap from him to Virgil. "...I didn't say that''

"Well you said something that has him convinced him he's no good for Thomas!"

"He isn't," Virgil insisted, looking like he regretted the words immediately.

"Do you really believe that or are you hiding from the fact that you were wrong and are being an asshole's asshole about it?" That shut him up quick and Remus let him go and walked over to Roman who was as quiet as everyone else was, "Parties over you can go back to your movie". The anger had fizzled when he saw how scared Virgil was, and he had already told Roman off several times. Thomas would most likely have a few words with them, so that would have to be enough. He produced a key and unlocked his twin, with a click the cuffs and key disappeared.

There were a few scattered murmurs from the living room as Remus grabbed a few gummies and ate them, grabbing an extra and heading upstairs with it.

"Hey..." It was Thomas that spoke up, and in a quiet tone that gave Remus pause half-way up, "is everything alright, I mean... what happened?"

Remus opened his mouth to tell him, but closed it again when Logan shifted. "Ask him yourself". Thomas nodded, clearly a bit disappointed with the answer and Remus went to leave.

"He had a panic attack," Virgil mumbled, looking down at his feet numbly.

The others in the room looked mostly shocked but Thomas looked aghast. Before he could say anything else Remus huffed in disgust and walked away to go take care of Janus.

---

Janus stayed in his room most of the next few days, his panic attack was more than enough to tell him he needed a break, so unless directly called upon he would spend some time doing just that. He did leave a couple of times early in the morning to help Patton with breakfast and chat with Logan, but for a much shorter time and left quickly if anyone other than Remus showed face. Everyone was acting a bit strangely but Janus refused to put much thought into it. They all had nightmares, so hearing him yell yesterday shouldn't be something they are able to hold over his head.

He'd also scheduled an early meeting with Dr. Pacini, and he assured Janus that he was handling the situation very well. Taking a step back and avoiding anything that could be triggering for a short time could do some good, although he did ask Janus to lower his alcohol consumption to at least every other day and not fully isolate himself.

He also asked that Janus talk to Thomas about his worries, but was immediately shot down in the meeting. Now that it was in his mind though, Janus felt himself slowly lose the will to not do just that. He would have to explain why he had been absent recently and had made it a point to stop lying to Thomas.

Perhaps he would just explain certain things to his host, that he had wanted to relax a little and that was why he was distant the last few days. Something to sooth the others likely worries and it would be nice to see Thomas, as his company was rather nice.

That's what he told himself as he appeared in Thomas' room late one night, only to find the other on his laptop entranced by Netflix and unaware of his presence.

Janus smiled lightly, happy to see the other enjoying himself, although with the late hour Logan was sure to have a fit. Instead of interrupting he simply started to move about the room, he probably should have gone to bed himself, but a little tidying wouldn't hurt.

He was able to check if Thomas' house plant needed watering, fold some shirts on the floor and straighten up the chair in the corner before he was noticed.

"Oh, hey Janus" Thomas smiled and closed the laptop when he saw the other, "sorry I didn't see you there, um, what are you doing?"

"It's no bother Thomas, it's not like I've taken time out of my very busy schedule of doing nothing to come and check on you at a ridiculous hour only to have you pay me no mind while I clean your room" He waved his hand dismissively and sat next to Thomas, who let out a soft laugh.

"Yeah, I actually wanted to check on you, I haven't seen you in the past few days and figured you might want some space but I was getting worried"

"Whatever would you need to be worried about?" Janus tried, icy trepidation making its way up his spine, "I'm doing well".

Thomas paused, looking a bit guilty "look, Jan, I know that you had a panic attack and you don't have to talk about it now but i'd like to maybe figure out why so I can help"

Janus paused, ready to deny and avoid but Thomas gave him that 'im Thomas and too wholesome and caring for this world look' and he signed quietly to himself, now at a loss for words. He felt panic brewing at being so exposed and a slight anger at himself for letting Thomas worry about him.

"You really don't have to talk about it, I swear, and i'm worried but I know you can take care of yourself and..." Thomas filled the prolonged silence with rushed and nervous words that Janus wanted to interrupt but his mouth just wasn't working.

He could say many things. Something to soften the blow, a half-truth that Thomas wouldn't fall for but would allow given the circumstances. He could lie, say that whatever Remus said was just to throw Thomas off, but Thomas had not mentioned Remus and if Janus did then that would be an easy hole to poke through. He could tell Thomas he wasn't ready to discuss it and be left feeling awkward and guilty, because while that isn't necessarily a lie, he would still be keeping secrets from Thomas.

All of these thoughts swirled through Janus's head as Thomas's rambling became muffled and his breath came in shorter gasps.

"Do you think i'm evil?" It was the first thing on Janus' tongue and the last thing he actually wanted to open up to Thomas about. He didn't know if he would be able to take the answer being yes, but a lie to try and comfort him would tear him to pieces.

After a long silence Thomas finally spoke,"What?". His voice was gentle but alarmed, meant to brush away Janus' worries.

The deceptive side tried to respond but he stopped and took a shaky breath, grounding himself. "It has been on my mind for awhile, I know it is unreasonable to ask you to answer that, I just...its tough being insulted by people you (that Thomas cares) care about and I am concerned as to how their opinions are affecting your own"

"Janus, it's not unreasonable to voice your concerns, and... I can't say with certainty that I don't view you as at least a little bad, but i'm working on unlearning that type of thinking and Virgil and Roman aren't going to make me change my mind on that, okay?"

Janus' body relaxed from the tension he didn't know he was holding and he sighed, leaning heavily on his hands. That was somehow the perfect response and Janus felt some sort of weight leave him. "Woah, hey, its okay", Thomas scrambled forwards to sit next to where Janus was, rubbing circles on his back, "Did I say something wrong?"

Janus shook his head, confused as to what the other meant, until he realized he was shaking and had started crying. Shame and fear rose past his relief, but Thomas had wrapped his arm around the others shoulder and Janus couldn't stop himself from accepting the comfort.

He leaned into Thomas' hug, putting his face onto the others shoulder as he let out the first real sob he'd let happen in months. Thomas, ever patient, simply whispered soothing words and rubbed circles on his back.

It took several minutes for Janus to calm down, but once he did he remained in Thomas' grasp for a while longer. "I didn't mean..." Janus started to pull back not sure what he was going to say and looked down at Thomas' shirt, wet with tears, "to ruin your shirt" he finished lamely.

Thomas just frowned and shook his head, worry creasing his brow. Janus sighed and looked away, rubbing his forehead. Thomas had never seen Janus like this, sure he was less guarded around his host but he still wasn't sure what to tell Thomas now that he had all of a sudden broken down. "I feel...better now" was what eventually came out, along with a shaky laugh.

"That's good" Thomas smiled, patting him awkwardly on the back. "Are the others all busy, or, I mean, do you have someone to be with right now, I guess"

"No, Remus is in the imagination and I believe all others are resting, but I can assure you that I will take care of myself." He winked at the other "self-care and all that".

That earned him a laugh, "Right, yeah...you mean a lot to me Janus, okay, I really hope that I wasn't hurting you by not telling you that sooner"

"No, Thomas, I should have come to you sooner and it's really not as bad as it might seem, I am a professional at bottling up my emotions, as it were"

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense..." They sat in comfortable silence for awhile after that, taking a minute to let everything soak in, "If you wanna stay, I was watching the office?"

"That sounds abhorrent" Janus jibed, as he waved his hand and changed into his pajamas, sitting down next to Thomas as he started up the laptop again.

After a few episodes Janus felt his body get lighter and he fell asleep content and laughing with Thomas.

Thank you so much for reading everyone, I appreciated every like and comment and feel free to critique! I wish you well and goodnight!

AFTERWORD IS POSTED! I JUST DONT KNOW HOW TO LINK IT IM SORRY!

152 notes · View notes

philicheesecake · 4 years ago

Text

(U. L.) An Impossible Defeat

Synopsis: After he survived witnessing the giant’s Banding, Warren seems to be the target of a vengeful giant. It seems just quitting the Unseen Legion was not enough to protect him.

Warnings: PARTIAL HARD VORE, GRAPHIC SEVERE INJURIES, PARTIAL DIGESTION, NEAR DEATH, F/M halfsize unwilling nonfatal vore, fatal mention,

((Phili’s note:

Me: takes 4 months to write one U.L. story Also me: Writes this story the next day in under 24 hours OHhhh yeah babyee we movin’ along! And yeah I got pretty violent for this one, so if you’re squeamish, I would be cautioned. Also if ye like this story, go ahead and reblog! It helps spread my work and it means a lot! ^w^ ))

“Well I came a long way to be here today

And I left you so long on this avenue

And here I stand In the strangest land

Not knowing what to say or do”

The windows of the old silver Civic were rolled down and the speakers blared the upbeat tunes of Electric Light Orchestra. Warren had his elbow propped out the window, some aviator sunglasses, and his hair blowing back in the mountain breeze that gushed through the windows. He was belting out the lyrics of the tune, stumbling over some of the lyrics, but he didn’t care. His voice was high and steady despite his stumbling over the words.

“As I gaze around at these strangers in town

I guess the only stranger is me”

Unknown to the ex-hunter, something with glistening eyes followed from within the treeline. Its speed rivaling a racehorse, though quieter than a cat. Its figure was too fast to be seen beyond a subtle blur past the treeline as a hulking silhouetted shape masked by the glare of the setting sun.

“And I wonder, Oh I wonder

Is this the way life’s meant to be?”

He was having a great time with the free air. No more U. L. missions. No more giants or near-death experiences. Just him and his friends about to meet up at a concert out of town to have a fun evening. The sun was beginning to descend over the road, casting its golden glare over the windshield. In his mind, he might’ve been a Lone Ranger riding into the sunset. He had seen some things no one else would believe. That alone could power a Western film.

Though he was beginning to associate dusk with death, he was safe in his car. Nothing could get him here. He’d be with his friends when he got into town. Safety in numbers, right?

“Although it's only a day since I was taken away

And left standing here looking in wonder”

The figure in the tree line burst out. Warren didn’t notice it immediately with the sound of blaring music, but one glimpse at the rearview mirror showed what was going on. “OH SHIT--!”

A giant. Seriously? What sort of gods decided to toy with Warren’s luck at this point? This was just ridiculous at this point. He thought he could recognize the figure. Long white dreadlocks, dark skin, flashing silver eyes. She was even taller than Eli by a good two feet. She had a weird name, but Warren couldn’t remember exactly what Eli had called her back then. Not that he cared. His first thought was getting the hell out of here.

“Oh, the ground at my feet, maybe it's just the old street

But everything that I know lies under”

The melodic voice continued on, despite the alarm in the situation. The sheer contrast only seemed to add to the stress of the situation.

He stepped on the gas, speeding faster. The giant was in hot pursuit, soon practically on the car’s bumper. Her claws dug into the asphalt, powering her unbelievable speed. 60 mph. She was still not lagging behind.

Her claws lashed out and she lunged forward, digging her claws into the back of the car and pulled herself half-onto it while her feet dug into the ground to gain traction. The car screeched, lurching to a halt. Warren was thrown over the steering wheel and the impact jammed into his ribs causing a painful crack.

He wheezed, blinking through the adrenaline to realize the car was at a complete halt, and the silver-haired giant was approaching the driver’s door.

“And when I see what they’ve done to this place that was home,

Shame is all that I feel”

He gasped, almost immediately coughing from the pain of the shifting of his lungs disturbing a freshly cracked rib. He hastily unbuckled, trying to scoot away from the driver’s seat as the large figure stooped over the window. Her slit silver eyes peered in. An expression of complete indifference played on her face. No response to the intense fear he was feeling. It almost scared him more than any taunts. There was no connection of emotion. Just complete apathy.

“And I wonder, yes I wonder,

Is this the way life’s meant to be?”

The door was ripped from its hinges. Her clawed hand reached for him, trying to grab through the narrow space to get ahold of him. He scooted backwards. His breaths rattled in his chest. His heart pounded in his ears. Tears pricked the corners of his wide eyes as the claws barely skimmed him as they fought to gain purchase. He ducked beneath the console of the passenger’s seat, digging out his phone and his shaky fingers struggled to operate the device to send a hasty message.

A crushing grip closed around his leg. He screamed.

“Too late, too late to cry, the people say

Too late for you, too late for me”

He was dragged out of the car, clawing for purchase. Trying to grab onto one of the seats or the steering wheel. His cracked ribs bumped painfully against the seats. She pulled him out of the car, hoisting him onto the air by his ankle.

“You've come so far, now you know everything, my friend

Look and see the wonders--”

Her ears twitched and she stomped her foot over the front of the car, smashing the radio. She didn’t seem to enjoy it. Without another word, she rose to her full height again, leaving the ground far below Warren as she began to walk back into the treeline. The ex-hunter whimpered, struggling to try to reach the hand that held his ankle. It was scary and disorienting to be held this high above the ground upside-down. A fall like this could break his neck, but not escaping would lead to certain death. He had encountered giants plenty enough times to get a pretty good idea about where this was going.

“P-please-- R-- Riki-- uh-- Riri--?” Warren struggled to remember her name, but honestly he couldn’t think at this point.

To his surprise, she let out a cold laugh. “If that Arawn knew you called me that, he would have finished what he started last time.”

Warren shuddered, recalling how they had parted last time. She was climbing up a cliff and Eli had eaten him to protect him from the other giants. He had been certain he was going to die.

“I--” “I should have known he had gone soft like his sister. I suppose I will soon deliver him the same fate as she has received. This human, however,” She lifted him higher so that they were practically face-to-face, just inches apart. He took in a shuddering gasp which stung his lungs.

“It’s lived too long to see too much… Things that no human should have seen. Not that it makes any distinction from the rest of the humans.” She sighed and opened her mouth beneath him. His eyes widened and he flailed, trying to jerk away from her open mouth. He quickly reached up to dig into his pocket. His fingers nearly slipped to drop the object, but he caught it, unfolding a pocket knife. She gave him an unimpressed look, and her other hand reached up to grab it just as he managed to slash it across her face. “GAHH-!”

A growl sounded through her throat. Her hand crushed around his leg, snapping his bones like twigs and he screamed in pain. Her other arm reached up and gripped him roughly around the torso. Her teeth snapped over the knife-wielding hand and spat out the weapon onto the forest floor. Blood poured down from a slash across her face, dripping down from her chin.

“I think that you’ll learn that fighting will only worsen things for you, human.” Her voice drawled. Warren cried, barely able to focus on her in the blinding pain. She shifted her grip to let go of his leg and reinforce her grip around his waist, beginning to lower him into her mouth backwards. Warren sucked in a terrified breath as his feet met the back of her tongue and she began to gulp them into her tight throat. Things were happening so fast. His shattered ankle screamed in protest as it was engulfed into the passage of rippling muscle.

“No! Nono— wait—“

The giant swallowed again and he suppressed a shout of pain. Her legs were now fully encased in the throat and his lower torso was entering her maw. Fangs jabbed painfully around him. She clearly didn’t bother being careful about how rough she was in the process. The giant’s tongue slathered his torso in gross saliva as she gulped more of him down. The ex-hunter whimpered and grabbed for the edge of her jaws in a poor attempt to stop his descent. This only made things worse when she met the blockage.

Her jaws widened for a second before crushing down over his chest, not enough to snap him in half, but enough to draw blood and hurt like hell. There was a distant scream of pain. He was getting lightheaded. He was losing blood, and was faintly aware of the feeling of blood dripping from his limp fingertips, and pooling our from her jaws. There was a hungry growl that sounded around the throat from the taste of his blood. The tongue cupped under him and she began to tilt her head back. He had lost the strength to struggle, in a state of shock and agony that made it too hard for him to think.

Another swallow sounded around him, bringing his head into the mouth. His chest was squeezed into the too-tight throat which crushed his already cracked ribs. He was barely able to choke another breath through the pain. It was a frightening sight to see the jaws wide around him, the saliva dripping over his line of sight. The marks of his own blood trailing down from the fangs. He didn’t have the strength to struggle in his state of stupor and pain.

One last gulp dragged him completely into the darkness, and his arms soon followed. He distantly felt pain shoot up his ankle as his feet began to press through the esophageal sphincter and the rest of him began to follow into the tight organ, forced to curl up in the claustrophobic space. As soon as his head and arms finally joined him, he coughed and gagged for air, finding it difficult to breathe with how much each breath hurt. The air was scalding and humid and burned his already aching lungs. The jagged movements of his rapid breaths only hurt his cracked rib further. He hugged his knees and cried.

“R— Rikki— R— Rhyka— please— please don’t do this.” He barely managed to recall the giant’s name.

Rhyka ignored him. She couldn’t care less. The giant was so tall and broad that her stature nearly perfectly concealed the small imprint he made, and the only mark of his existence was subtle. It made it all too easy for him to be ignored.

“L-listen, I’m…” he hissed in an anxious breath through his teeth, trying not to fully break down now. The heat was exhausting, and the main thing keeping him conscious was the intense pain. He just wanted it all to end, but at the same time, he didn’t want to die. Not like this. His sisters needed him, and he tried his best to not abandon them, only for his luck to turn for the worst once again. He could recall Olivia’s lessons on giants and hoped to god something might work here to give him a slim chance of survival. “R-Rhyka… I’m sorry humans drove giants into hiding. I— I wish things were— were different between our kinds… but— but killing people won’t fix that.”

To his surprise, the giant let out a laugh. “You truly believe that having a, ah, ‘heart-to-heart’ will spare your life here? Your kind is an inferior race. Weak. Pathetic. Even if your kind had not done what they did, it does not change the fact that we are the predators, and you are the prey.”

Warren shuddered, biting back a sob of fear. “B— wait—“

“You could save your meager breaths now. I have heard all the same arguments. None sway me. Do yourself a favor and accept your fate.”

Warren could feel the movement from her walking seem to settle. There was a dropping sensation and his environment seemed to tilt sideways. She must have laid down or something. He squirmed in place, biting back a hiss of pain as he had to reorient himself with his vulnerable broken shin and ribs. The puddle of fluids he was sitting in splashed over his face, making him sputter and cough weakly. He noticed a faint stinging and his heart rate picked up in alarm. Acids—? Giants only digest when they’re asleep… which meant Rhyka must be heading there now.

“Wait— no—no— please— I— you can’t—“

He froze as he could hear the giant’s breaths slow to a more relaxed rate. She didn’t respond. His eyes widened in the darkness and he took in shaky breaths. An ominous growl sounded nearby from the organ. The puddle of fluids was half-filling the space now, and still having trouble to reorient himself, he had to sputter and squirm to avoid breathing in the stinging fluids.

“Nononono— G-God— p-please…” he cried. He didn’t want to believe this. He didn’t want to die like this. He had dodged death before, he had to do it again. But Eli has told him time and time again he was weak, and he was right.

The stomach groaned and clenched tightly around him, causing the level of fluids to rise briefly before the walls relaxed. He took in a sharp gasp of pain, bracing his shattered leg that just felt like pulp now. He could swear he felt something crack from the way his leg bent just then, feeling the limb was beyond repair. It was probably just held together by shredded muscle and tissue at this point.

He was too tired and in too much pain to really fight back the oppressive stomach folds that began to clench around him more rhythmically.

“I guess you’ll die then” Olivia’s voice echoed in his mind, recalling her lecture from before.

Warren took in shaky breaths in the heat. Olivia had a point. She gave him lessons, and if he gave up, he would be dead. Not every giant would be generous enough to let him live. Rhyka wasn’t one of them. He had to think.

Olivia had mentioned a pressure point against the spine that could do… something? His brain felt foggy, but some part of him could recall that it might save his life. He hadn’t succeeded last time he tried.

He grimaced as the stomach gurgled loudly again and its walls crushed in closer. The acids were beginning to sting worse. Burning at the bare skin of his hands and face. He held out his elbows on either side to hold the slimy walls off of his face, letting out a rasping breath through his teeth. He felt around in the darkness, trying to orient himself to figure out what was where. Doing some calculations based on how he had been swallowed, and the new position of the sleeping giant, he made a blind guess of an idea. He was facing the wrong way. Being swallowed feet-first and backwards, he was likely facing the outer wall of the stomach, instead of the vertebrae where his target lay.

He grunted, twisting around in position and using his one good leg to try to reorient himself to face the spine. He had no idea if he was right about this, and every inch of the tight organ was identical. It was especially difficult to figure out if he had turned a 180 or just a few inches because of how disorienting the rippling muscles were, making his laborious movements either too small or too big to calculate. He settled at where he ended up, however, taking a moment to gather his breath. The heat was really making him feel like he was about to pass out, and he just wanted a break from the pain of his mangled leg and ribs. He couldn’t rest though. He had to at least try.

He leaned back as far as he could, using his hands to press himself backwards in the stomach as his one good leg kicked at the spine. There was no response, and he tried kicking everywhere along the opposing wall. Everything felt the same, so it was impossible to know how close he even was from it. The walls around him crushed in more tightly. He could barely breathe now. The fluids were rising higher. He was on the verge of passing out. The heat. His mind was numb and far away. His only thought was his sisters. He had to focus on them. He could barely even recall their faces. So tired...

Kick.

The tightening walls suddenly went limp, freeing the small pocket of air. Warren gasped for air, feeling lightheaded from all the effort. He didn’t know what happened. He didn’t even know if he had succeeded. Everything was too foggy to focus on. His mind slowly drifted from consciousness.

***

“Rrrg. Wha... what did you do… to me…?”

Warren was slowly brought to his senses by a rough jab that met his injured rib which prompted a scream of pain. He gasped, foggily beginning to regain his senses. Everything hurt. The first thing he noted was the voice… so loud and rumbling around him. There was a numbness around him. He could barely feel his limbs, but at the same time, he was faintly aware of a burning sensation covering everywhere. He was soaked to the bone by a deep pool of slimy fluids. It was hard to know how much of him was left, and if most of him already been melted away. The walls weren’t as active or crushing as they had been before. The place felt oddly dormant aside from an occasional groan or squelch from the environment, the sound of the giant’s breaths, and the thumping of her heart nearby. How long had he been in here?

“Wh…” Warren’s tongue felt like it wouldn’t cooperate enough to speak. “Whd’yamean…” He slurred. He couldn’t think. He was too tired. He just wanted this hell to end, whatever this hell was.

“Don’t play stupid with me, human... You… you shouldn’t still be alive! What have you done to me?” Her voice almost sounded pained in a way, though his brain was too tired to pick up the tone. The jab once again met his side, though thankfully hit his shoulder this time. He weakly tried to raise his arm to push back.

“D’nno… wha you… mean. Wh...what time’sssit…?”

The pressure increased by his side and he could hear a gurgle nearby. “I am finished with your games… Hunter. You will be dead soon enough… what… whatever tricks you are using will… wear off.”

“I.. I dunno wha-- what…” he took in deep breaths, on the verge of passing out again. He was faintly aware of a shifting from outside and the pressure lightened to be circular rubs. Any other moment he’d be indignant to the action, but right now, he was too tired to really think about it. There was definitely something off about her voice. She sounded… fatigued. He didn’t think into it.

“Please… j-just… just make it s-stop…” the ex-hunter groaned weakly. He was regaining awareness of the burning sensation around his skin. The pain from his broken leg and ribs.

The giant didn’t respond aside from an annoyed growl that rumbled to her core as she rubbed the form in her stomach as if to help him digest faster. Her breaths began to calm again. He could hear another gurgle from the stomach and the dormant walls began to pick up their act again, rubbing against his skin and distributing the numb, stinging fluids over his skin. He didn’t bother squirming. He was too weak to think. Rebeka. Liss.

What were those names anymore? He could barely recall their faces. Just concepts at this point. But more than anything, he wanted to see them again.

Had the kick done something before?

A clench tightened around him, bringing up the acid level higher, briefly submerging his head under the caustic fluids. He choked and struggled weakly for breath just as the walls loosened up again just enough to give him a chance to take shallow gasps for air. He tried to focus, lifting up his good leg briefly to jab into the opposite wall again. It took every fiber of strength for the action. He kicked a few times. The walls tightened again and he was submerged. His heart pounded. He could hear the giant’s heart thump more slowly. The distant gurgling sounds of the stomach around him. His lungs burned for air. He kicked out his leg again, trying anywhere for that pressure point. His foot slipped, then dug into the opposite wall. It just barely managed to hit the right place. The walls loosened up again and Warren coughed weakly, gasping for air. The whole stomach seemed to grow limp again. His body followed suit. He didn’t have the strength to keep this up. Even if he was alive for now, he was prolonging the inevitable. He wasn’t going to make it out of here alive.

He was too tired to cry, but there was a pang of emotion in his chest nonetheless. His body grey limp again. His ears began to sink beneath the stinging fluids. His mind fell to dormancy again.

***

Olivia had been sound asleep through the whole night, unknowing of her phone buzz with Warren’s text. Her face was planted on the alchemy table and her glasses were falling off of her nose. In the late morning, she rose again to get some coffee and sat down with her entire carafe of coffee with her alchemy equipment, ready to put this frustratingly difficult concoction in the past. She worked for a while at her project before she saw her phone buzz. It was another hunter wanting some more potions for lycanthropy. She had been getting too many requests from that same hunter, it was beginning to get rather tiring. Wait a moment… There was another message from Warren.

Her tired eyes scanned it with her bulbous spectacles before sighing tiredly and picked up her pastel pink bag of alchemy equipment and got in her car to drive away.

***

The white dump truck hummed down the winding road into the forest. Olivia was dead tired and really didn’t want to be doing this. She would much rather finish that lycanthrope-enthusiast’s order, or sleep instead. The road was not a popular route, one of the back roads. It didn’t look like anyone was within miles of the stretch of asphalt. Though something laid ahead in the road. A smashed silver car was sprawled out over the asphalt in shredded bits of smashed metal. Her brow raised slightly and she parked her truck on the shoulder of the road, giving the wreckage a good once-over before she sighed and pressed through the treeline.

She took out a small vial of blue liquid from her alchemy bag and opened up the bottle, placing a small drop on her finger and dabbed it beneath her nose. She sniffed in the odd scent of the concoction and the effect was instant. A faint blue mist seemed to appear in the forest. A scent trail that led further ahead. Wordlessly, she followed it.

There was a dip in the forest path that led into a steep ravine which was difficult to travel into, though she managed. At the bottom of the ravine in a dip in the rock, the scent trail led to an end.

A white-haired giant laid asleep on her side. There was a slight bulge in her middle. Her clawed hand rested over it. It didn’t take much imagination to deduct what had happened. The alchemist sighed, taking a small yellow orb of ice out of her bag and put her teeth together, making a high-pitched whistle barely audible to human ears. The response was instant. The giant’s eyes opened, though she remained on the ground. She tiredly turned to her side, scowling as she spotted the alchemist.

“I take it you’ve eaten William, then,” Olivia’s tired voice drawled.

Rhyka’s eyes narrowed and she sat up, glaring at the ice that the alchemist wielded, knowing exactly what it was meant for.

“He is dead. Your point?” Her voice was groggy, almost coming out in a slur.

Olivia sighed. “Well I guess I have no restraint from using this, then.” She raised the ice and approached the giant with an unphased expression.

The giant held up a hand hastily. “Stop… It… I will release the human if you throw that into the woods. I lied. He might be alive. I can’t know for certain at this point, though it’s the only chance you have.”

Olivia shrugged and tossed the ice aside indifferently. “Alright. Let him go.”

Rhyka looked like she hadn’t expected this, but groaned. Her eyes were exhausted. She looked like she had been through hell with some sort of terrible indigestion. She pressed a hand to her stomach. Heaving sounds came, then the bulge in her middle reformed in her throat, slowly traveling upwards. She lowered her head and gagged. The form of the bedraggled, slimy hunter spilled out onto the ground in a pool of reeking fluids.

Olivia barely seemed phased at all by Warren’s appearance. He looked like he had been thrown in a meat grinder. His left leg was crushed to pulp beneath the knee. He was covered in acids and his own blood. Past the dripping slime, patchy red burns littered his skin.

The alchemist didn’t waste a moment before reaching into her bag again and threw another yellow orb of ice at the giant, hitting her clean in the face. Rhyka let out an infuriated shout as the enchanted ice seemed to melt into her skin. There were cracking and shifting sounds and she began to decrease in height. The giant roared, lunging forward to slash her claws at Olivia, only to shrink further and bat harmlessly with declawed otherwise human fingertips. She collapsed onto the ground, hissing in pain. She eventually shrank down to a complete human size, though she was still a good foot taller than the short alchemist.

Olivia pursed her lips, ignoring the giant as she stepped toward Warren. He wasn’t moving. Neither was the giant. Whatever vigor she had before was short-lived. She seemed too wiped out to fight.

“Wilhelm, listen to me,” She sat down on the earthy floor, taking his slimy hand. His hand remained limp in hers. She shot a look at the now shrunken giant. “You killed him.” She spoke levelly. She sighed and withdrew a black orb from her bag and pressed it into his hand. “Wake up,” She muttered.

The black orb melted into his hand, seeming to grow warm before disappearing. For a moment, there was no response, before she glanced over at him to see Warren’s chest slowly rose and fall. He was breathing. Weakly, but steadily.

***

Two were dragged into the truck by the tired alchemist. Rhyka’s hands were tied together, and Warren was seated next to her, unconscious, and wetting the seating with the gross slime that dripped from him.

They drove back to the alchemist shop in silence. Rhyka still seemed ill from whatever had happened, not in much of a talking mood.

Once they arrived back at the shop, Olivia put out a blanket on the floor for Warren and tied up the camouflaged Rhyka in a chair. Olivia did her best to clean Warren’s wounds and treat the burns, but for his broken leg, not much could be done.

***

Warren groggily returned to consciousness. A day had passed. He was lying on his back, staring up at the blank ceiling of Olivia’s basement. The light was dull, which was a good thing, to not be overwhelmed by too much light with his senses returning. He was in pain, though the worst thing of all was his leg. He could feel a crushing, burning sensation coming from it, though part of it was foggy and dampened. He must have been given medications while he was asleep to numb the pain.

What just happened.

The last thing he remembered was… He grunted as he rolled to his side and his blood froze. Rhyka was sitting tied up in a chair before him. His heart picked up rapidly.

“Look who awakened,” she smiled coldly.

“You… How... what..?” Warren mumbled. How was he here? How was he even alive?

footsteps sounded from the floor above. Olivia appeared on the staircase, looking over Warren tiredly. “Ah, Winston. Good to see you are alive.” She spoke in an expressionless drawl. “I suppose the pressure point techniques work after all.”

Warren hugged his arms, leaning back on the hard blanket. He just tried to level his breaths instead of thinking too much into it. He might have been in a state of shock.

“And my apologies about your leg. It seems not all of you was intact enough to be saved.”

Warren blinked, then glanced down at his legs. His breath caught in his throat and he felt like he had been punched in the gut. “Ho-holy shit.”

His left leg was gone. Amputated beneath the knee. He stared for a moment in shock. Olivia sat down next to him on the floor, taking a swig of her coffee from the glass carafe. “Yeah, you’ll get used to it. Just take it easy for now.”

He shuddered, biting his lip. “I… No… no… this can’t… I quit the U. L.. I-- I was supposed to be safe. W-why… Isn’t fair.”

Olivia sighed, glancing toward Rhyka. “The giant who ate you seemed to have a grudge from when you witnessed their Banding ritual. Apparently it’s no thing that any human should live to see. She had been hunting you down ever since.”

“B--but it’s not my fault! The giants brought me there! I-- I didn’t want anything to do with that!”

Rhyka rolled her eyes, staring at Warren in a deadpanned sort of way. “Ah, excuses. None of that will change anything, you are aware?”

Warren covered his face, shaking. “You… you cruel person… you wanted to kill me. I didn’t want to get involved with the giants ever again and-- and y-you went and…”

The alchemist’s hand tapped his shoulder and she let out a tired groan. “Rachel is right. None of the things that happened will change. However,” She rose to her feet, walking over to her alchemist desk and withdrew a shimmering grey knife. She turned to look at Warren. “I do not kill monsters unless I have to. If you wish to kill Roxanne, then that is up to you.”

Warren tried to stand, leaning against the wall and lifted the stump of his leg above the ground. He stumbled over toward Rhyka, using the wall as support. “Give me the knife.”

Rhyka’s eyes narrowed. Olivia sighed and went over to Warren, placing the knife in his hands. He gripped the blade, trying to keep a straight face through the pain in his leg and glared at Rhyka, holding it to her neck.

“How does it feel having the tables turned, huh Rhyka?” Warren grit his teeth. “You… You don’t care about humans. What did you say we were? W-weak? Inferior? ‘Lesser beings?’”

Her cold glare remained unwavering, locking eyes with Warren’s. She remained silent.

“Look at me now. You tried to kill me but failed.” The knife pressed more firmly against her throat, threatening to draw blood. “You-- you have no idea w-what you put me through. No one. No one should ever have to go through that. Killing you will avenge god-knows-how-many people you’ve murdered like that. I don’t wish death on many people but… You…”

His jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed. His grip tightened over the knife until his knuckles were white. He didn’t act for a solid few seconds. Rhyka held her breath.

The knife dropped to his side and clattered to the floor.

Rhyka let out a cold chuckle. “Coward,”

“I’m not like you, Rhyka.” Warren backed to the wall again, sliding down to be seated. He put a hand on his injured leg, hissing through his teeth and looked to the side, trying not to focus on the pain. He was defeated, even if he had survived. He had just lost his leg, though it felt like he had lost so much more.

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

Rest of the series can be found here.

#hard vore #vore digestion #nonfatal vore #vore story #tw hard vore #~UL Series~#Unseen Legion Series #Rhyka Velka #Warren Pace #Olivia Heartstrong #v.ore #v0re #v/ore #gt vore #halfsize vore #thirdsize vore

26 notes · View notes

brandywine-tomatoes · 3 years ago

Text

Kyu Sakamoto - an excerpt

Literally just procrastination writing from yesterday. I created 2 badass lesbian ocs for the MCU (mainly Rogers, Barnes, and Wilson's stories) and now I have a 7-page outline...... been in the fandom for 3 days..... ANYWAYS

Masterlist

@icedcoffee101 and @dragon-pups pushed me to write this sad excerpt, so here you go everyone!

TW: sad/depressing thoughts, questioning existence for a hot second, honestly it's just really fucking depressing, but I love it nonetheless.

Word count: 1519

Prompt/Inso: my 7-page outline of badass lesbians that keep an eye on bucky when he's the winter soldier (this excerpt isn't about that tho)

QUICK NOTE: this is during the events of TFATWS, episode 5 I believe? And Grace is mute, so she uses sign language (tho she's only in the flashback). So yeah. Enjoy some sad angst!

“Well,” she picked up the leather bag from the chair, holding it up with a smirk. “I brought records.”

Bucky’s resting bitch face turned up into a small smile. The only person with a decent music taste thankfully brought records to Sam’s ‘let’s finally work on this fucking boat’ party with most of the neighbours and people owing favours. Everyone was milling around, fixing whatever they were assigned to fix and laughing in the cool bay breeze.

“I sure hope you have 60s stuff in that huge bag of yours,” he chuckled, walking past her up the dock to bring the record player from the shore. She held the heavy bag with one arm as she unzipped the zipper, an old and dusty smell escaping the inside and showing the spines of dozens of records.

“You pack all those just for us, Ash?” Sarah came up beside her, admiring all the casings.

“I found them stuffed in a closet back in Africa. I thought I’d revisit some old favourites,” she smiled at her.

Bucky and Sam came back down the dock with the record player in tow and an amp, talking with each other about god knows what. They set the gear down on a bench, plugging in the amp. The four of them dug into the bag, each of them taking out 2 or 3 records each to examine.

“Damn, you really like your slow songs, huh?” Sam spoke up, showing her the record covers in his hands were indeed black and white photos and words she didn’t understand.

She smiled brightly. “Yup! The 60s were the times of slow songs, the best ones.”

“I full-heartedly agree,” Bucky laughed. He slid a perfect disk out its paper cover and carefully placed it on the spindle, sliding over the needle to the first song ridge.

“I hope you picked something upbeat,” Sarah said.

The music flooded through the amp, the old-sounding and staticy bass vibrating through the deck and resonated in everyone’s hearts. People started taking their wives and husbands and kids to dance to the seemingly upbeat song.

Sasha just stared wide-eyed at the spinning disk, a long shoved down lump of unshed sobs pushing up her throat.

‘We don’t have anywhere else to go, we have the papers, and we have the rings,’ Grace signed quickly, pulling Sasha through the doorway gently and resting her hands on her waist, Sasha’s hands instinctively moving to behind her neck.

“All we need is a song, Graceless,” she smiled softly, mesmerized by her new wife’s radiating happiness and her beautiful smile that could seemingly never be darkened. The white curtains blew gently in front of the open window by their records, the moon's soft glow flooding the hardwood floors the only light they needed.

She nodded in return. Grace pulled away and walked to their stack of brand-new records, picking the one off the top and putting the needle of the travel-sized player on the first song.

‘We better thank him for his demos,’ Grace signed, then extended a hand to her wife. Sasha smiled so brightly as she took it.

“The neighbours will have a fit, it’s 3 o’clock in the morning,” Sasha whispered, putting her chin on Grace’s shoulder and started swaying slowly with one hand lightly holding Grace’s and another around her arm.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Grace tapped on her shoulder in a familiar rhythm.

She sighed in contentment. Why couldn’t every day be like this, nothing to worry about other than what song to choose, no people to run after, no running from Hydra. Just the soft blowing of curtains and Kyu Sakamoto on their travel record player.

“If you say so, Ana.”

“Ash, you alright? You look like you’re about to cry,” Sarah laughed awkwardly and put a hand on Sasha’s shoulder, bringing her back from her wedding night. The others started to notice the reddening of her eyes and the shaking of her hands.

She walked away from the 3 of them, vaguely registering someone's failed attempt at reaching out to grab her wrist.

She couldn’t cry here, not in front of people she didn’t know and wouldn’t understand. She picked up the pace, the dammed river behind her eyes becoming unbearable to keep holding up. Soon enough she was running up the green hill leading to Sam’s house with no intention of stopping until she was with the love of her life again. Running might get her there, it might get her back in her arms, swaying softly to Kyu Sakamoto back in Africa.

She ran across the street of the empty house, bursting through the green forest and didn’t stop. The stray tears escaping her eyes were pushed past her face from the wind, clouding her eyesight.

“What was that?” Sarah asking, concern evident on her face.

Bucky sighed in realization of what he did. He dropped his face into his hands groaning. “Shit.”

“What-”

He started walking up the dock to make up for lost time. He shouted back to his friends, “It’s her god damn wedding song.”

“Oh shit,” Sam whispered. He didn’t know much about Sasha or her history, but he remembers her and her deceased wife, how much they loved each other. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what force would be able to pull them apart. They were both super-soldiers, they lived longer than Bucky or Steve had, they had more than half a century of camaraderie. She was off the grid for 7 years after her death. “Oh shit.”

“I didn’t know Sasha’s married,” Sarah tried to lighten the mood.

“It’s a long story.”

When Sasha finally collapsed in the dense forest, the light shining through the trees dimmed and turned the colour of the orange clouds above. Little streaks of light escaped the canopy and left little spots of highlighted roots or fallen leaves. Grace would try to step in every streak of light, sign that Sasha should help her find all the new tree sprouts and clear the leaves from around it to give it a fighting chance at survival.

She kneeled in the dirt beside an old and tall tree, the fabric of her jeans digging into the soft earth and the moisture seeping across her knees. The first sob she let go made her feel so weak and helpless, like a wounded puppy trying to fight its way off the streets. After that, she only thought of Grace coming up behind and hugging the life out of her, trying to make her feel as safe as possible. But she’d never feel the bone-crushing safety again, only the hollow and emptiness of her evaporated shadow.

She cried and sobbed and spread her tears around her face well into the darkness of night with only the moon to watch in pity. The sleeves of her white crew neck were dried with snot and dirt and pieces of bark from the tree she was leaning on. It was only a dent, a chip off the sorrow she felt, and it didn’t make her feel any better. Nothing would make her feel better.

Her legs were numb under her body, prickling like hundreds of needles were puncturing her skin. Her hands were rested in the dirt, fiddling with dried chucks as she stared out an open spot in the canopy. It was a clear night, a couple stars blinked back at her tired and puffy red eyes.

She was in the middle of thinking that sinking into the old tree supporting her side would solve her problems when the sound of leaves crunching beneath footsteps came closer and closer and eventually stopped just off to the side of her.

“I’m sorry, Sasha,” Bucky’s words were genuine. She stayed silent, grimacing at the change of sound. “I wasn’t thinking.”

She turned her head to look at him, a frown etched in his face as he took in the sight of how small she looked, how the whites of her eyes were clearly bloodshot, even visibly in the silver light.

“I hope you never find someone that makes you feel this way,” her voice was beyond strained and wavered at every word.

“Sasha-”

“Her real name was Anastasia, like the Grand Duchess. After Hydra tried to burn the warehouse down, we assumed other names,” she looked back to the canopy. “It meant resurrection.”

“Look-”

“I’m not coming back, James. This country has her blood smeared on its soil and I’ll never be able to forgive it.”

Bucky was surprised, to say the least. “We need you here, Sasha.”

She turned a cold and raging glare at him. “We helped you enough. We spent decades helping you. I’m done.”

She had a hard time using her numb legs to get up and the tree's roots around her didn’t help either. Bucky held out a hand for her to take. A last helping move before she left. He knew he wouldn't be able to talk her out of it.

She gripped his flesh hand tightly and hoisted herself up, steadying herself and shaking the blood back into her limbs. She nodded at his darkened face.

“Goodbye, James Barnes.”

A/N: WAS THAT SAD OR WHAT?! I teared up a couple times writing this, ngl. If y'all find this interesting, let me know! I need the motivation to write the real fic with Grace and Sasha alive, Sasha isn't always deep in a depressive state with Grace dead.

ANYWAYS! Go drink some water, go have a snack, take a break, you deserve it so much, I'm so proud of you for getting this far!! ❤️❤️

(The nickname 'Graceless' came from my friend Shae and her friend on Insta 💕💕)

9 notes · View notes

chyrstis · 4 years ago

Note

Hanarky for the ship meme? 👀💕

@geronimo-11 @amistrio @ma-sulevin @risenlucifer @himbopike

Let me just say that to get one ask is awesome. To get five asking for the same pair especially when it’s these two? <3 You’re all fantastic for asking, and I’m all too glad to dive into this for them.

Hana Vao / Sharky Boshaw

General:

Rate the Ship -

How long will they last? - These two are full-on set on driving into that sunset together, and this last until they’re old and gray.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - It’s pretty fast for both. Sharky was a little love-struck if not during their initial intro, then shortly after, wondering who the hell this woman was, yelling Die Hard quotes while handing him molotovs, and why he didn’t have a chance to meet her sooner. Hana on the other hand was immediately charmed by his brand of absurdity, and after a week or two on the road, found she didn’t want to go a day without it. It didn’t take much longer for feelings to set in after that.

How was their first kiss? - Oh, it was a doozy. Entirely on accident, especially since she just wanted to thank him for always being sweet to her (and for finding coffee, b/c going without it’s been rough), and wanted to kiss his cheek. No big deal. She lays one right on his mouth instead, and the residual shock and the holy shit of it all makes her immediately exit stage left. The kiss they share later on down the line’s one she’s much more content with, b/c there’s no grey area, no doubting it at all, and the minute he returns it she’s almost overwhelmed by it. Sharky’s easily in the same boat, b/c this isn’t wishful thinking, or him hoping for something that isn’t there. It’s her wanting him, and once he can shut his mouth for longer than a few seconds at a time they get to making up for all the times they should’ve kissed before.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Sharky! It’s years down the line, but he finds a way to make a ring for her, and after checking to see if it fits, immediately proposes to her on the spot.

Who is the best man/men? - There’s no official ceremony, but Sharky would’ve wanted Hurk there for it, if possible.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Hana would’ve definitely asked Grace.

Who did the most planning? - Sharky! Hana had no damn clue what he had in mind, or was planning, but he actually managed to get a little misty-eyed while watching a proposal scene from one of her movie picks, so...

Who stressed the most? - Sharky. Though the poor guy didn’t get hit with most of it until he’d slipped the ring onto her finger.

How fancy was the ceremony? -

Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - N/A (Hurk Sr. gets an honorary mention here, though)

Sex:

Who is on top? - Both like the other on top so they’ll definitely switch, but Hana’s probably there the most often.

Who is the one to instigate things? - They’re both equally guilty of this with varying degrees of subtlety, and Hana’s absolutely burst out laughing at a few of Sharky’s attempts, but always gets right to kissing him soon after.

How healthy is their sex life? -

Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now - (hey, they’re making up for lost time here)

How kinky are they? -

Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - A good couple of rounds if they’re in a safe place, and time’s no object.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - They certainly try (though she grouses at Sharky whenever he gets a lead on her, leaving him wearing the worst shit-eating grin)

How rough are they in bed? -

Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? -

No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - Two! Gabrielle, and I’m still trying to zero in on a name for their little boy. Rocky? Jack? Kurt?

How many children will they adopt? - N/A

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - These two try to split this duty right down the middle.

Who is the stricter parent? - Hana, which is a feat. XD

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Also, Hana, b/c no matter what she and Sharky got up to before this, it’s really for the best that neither of the kids try to emulate that.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - It’s a team effort, and any no-cult AU would totally involve Sharky handing bags of chips and jerky to each kid with Hana on his heels ready with a sandwich or two.

Who is the more loved parent? - They’re both pretty equal, but Gabby loves working with Sharky in the Pyrotechnics lab big-time, while Kiddo #2 loves racing around with Hana (and is a movie trivia buff in the making)

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? N/A - Hana would be dragged kicking and screaming to them and hate it.

Who cried the most at graduation? - N/A due to the Collapse, but Sharky might win this one. He certainly sheds a happy tear or two whenever the kids hand him gifts or show him cool things they’ve made, and any award they’d earn? Whoops, he’d be a goner.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Hana’s up to bat first going through legal avenues, but if she can’t manage to wing it, Sharky’s ready to step up to the plate.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - They both would be take-out junkies, but Hana can make most of the basics.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Neither, really. She’d tease Sharky about deviating any from his jerky-heavy diet, though.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Probably Hana, but she’d drag him along for it too (and they’d race carts in the parking lot)

How often do they bake desserts? - Not frequently, but Hana would every once in a blue moon attempt a cake or brownies, and post-Collapse Sharky tries really hard to find a way to make that happen.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Meat, meat, meat.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Sharky, and although he’s not much of a cook, he’ll save her extra desserts for their anniversary week. Once they’re out he tries to go a little fancier, though, and doesn’t burn things to a crisp 60-70% of the time?

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Sharky.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - Sharky.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - They’re both messy, so they try to take turns with chores.

Who is really against chores? - Sharky. He’s not thrilled with any of it, but puts up with it since

Who cleans up after the pets? - They don’t start off with pets, but Hana can’t help but feed a stray cat or two once they get to the surface, and gladly takes care of any messes they make.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Sharky, the sneak.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Both would usually be okay, but Hana does stress a bit more about cleaning when a certain someone John tends to visit.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Sharky would probably find the dollar while trying to sweep things under it, to be honest. XD

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Hana. It’s where she can unwind, and it only gets longer if she has company (which she usually hopes for and Sharky 100% delivers on)

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - If moments with Boomer count, Hana would totally go jogging with him, and did a few times while heading out on patrol.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Hana’s a Halloween junkie, and loves throwing parties, so that's a must even when they don't have many actual decorations to hang. Sharky won't hesitate to help her find some prime picks, though, and can whip up some great ones in a jiffy.

What are their goals for the relationship? - Have the other’s back no matter what, and make the other the happiest they’ll ever be.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Sharky.

Who plays the most pranks? - Sharky.

#amistrio #ma-sulevin #risenlucifer #himbopike #geronimo-11 #deputy hana #otp: hanarky #sharky boshaw #sorry this took so long to finish!#I have an awful tendency to think too hard about a lot of these #but I also might've had too much fun considering certain parts of it too

20 notes · View notes

crimsonbluemoon · 5 years ago

Note

60 for Minicat, please, the fucking phrasing of that prompt killed me on the spot

Starting off strong by going over my word limit!! >.> Fuck. Hope y’all enjoy

Pairing: MinicatNumber: 60Prompt: “I’m so madly and deeply in love with you, please meet me so we can discuss this.”

Tyler knew he was never going to win any boyfriend awards. When it came to romance, Luke and Brian had the prizes practically cemented on their foreheads. It was a bit over the top how often the group would be hanging out, and one of them would whip out a present or chocolate to give Ryan and Brock respectively. Their lack of self-awareness had no boundaries. Delirious tried to keep up, in his own goofy declarations of affection for Evan, but half the time they ended up with him on fire or in the hospital (one time both, and wasn’t that a fun fourth of July?). But Evan seemed to love his attempts more than his actual results, which somehow tossed even that idiot ahead of Tyler in the department of love.

Mini, to his credit, had never complained. He did chase after Tyler for six years without any real hint of reciprocation when they were teens, after all (Craig claimed the signs were always there, but Tyler thought he was just an idiot). Even the first year of their relationship had been tough, as Tyler hadn’t fully accepted their shift from friends to boyfriends easily. Craig was patient when he could be, which was probably the only reason they were still together four years later. Being twenty four helped him accept Mini’s physical affections and stupid nicknames, but his struggle to show his own love for his boyfriend was still the same. Craig never mentioned it, and Tyler would let hell freeze over before he brought it up, but he wasn’t blind enough to miss the bittersweet spark that caught Mini’s eye whenever one of their friends was showered with love in front of them.

Tyler knew he had to do something about it.

“Chill out, dude.” Tyler growled at Brian’s words, throwing the stress ball against the wall.

“Can’t.” His voice was clipped, back tight and muscles tensed for a battle he couldn’t fight.

“Jesus, you’re worse than Del.” Luke waited until the ball rolled to his feet to kick it back toward Tyler, relaxed like he owned Brian’s apartment. “If you did exactly what we told you to, then it’s gonna be fine. Mini gets back from work at what time?”

“5:30pm,” Tyler answered. His eyes glanced to the clock, seeing that the time he’d announced passed twenty minutes ago.

“And you had the flowers and… giraffe delivered at 5:45pm, right?” Brian asked, showing his lack of understanding over the choice of stuffed animal in his hesitant tone.

“Yes, which was five fucking minutes ago.”

“You signed your note, right? So he doesn’t think it’s just some creepy stalker.” Luke’s lack of trust in his romantic abilities should have made him mad, but he wouldn’t have been able to do any of the planning for the current ‘operation’ if not for the two assholes staring at him with arched eyebrows.

“Yes I signed the fucking note! Put my heart and soul and all that other stupid fuffly shit in it just like you said. Gonna get an award from hallmark for ‘cheesiest note ever’.” Tyler didn’t tell them how many hours he spent writing and re-writing the three page long letter he’d tied around the giraffe’s neck before driving it to the delivery service. He hadn’t known how to start it, which memories to bring up or parts of their relationship he needed to highlight. How could he take a love a decade in the making and toss it onto a few pages of paper? He’d looked through photos and videos taken throughout the years, mostly by Craig himself, to guide him through the written confession of love. It was a road map of their journey, the good and the bad, because every crack in the road had only made them love each other a littler more than most. Tyler refused to tell them that the letter didn’t need a signature, because it was his literal heart inked into words for Mini to see.

He also refused to tell them about the ring taped to the bottom of the last page, and the four worded question he ended the letter with.

“Then he’s going to love it. Just give him a second to process whatever you wrote before you assume he’s buying a ticket to Antarctica or something.” Tyler was ready to lob the ball at Brian’s head after the remark, but his phone’s loud ringtone stole the fire out of his veins. For a moment, he stared at the device, unsure if he’d be able to handle a rejection. What if Craig had wanted a bigger proposal? What if this felt…unromantic for him? It wasn’t in person and it probably felt distant, and Tyler was seriously re-thinking the entire thing. This was stupid, cheap, not sweet at all-

But then his mind reminded him of who was on the other line, the one person who’d never abandoned him, and he sucked in a breath before accepting the call.

“What?” He grumbled out, hating how Luke and Brian leaned in closer to try and listen to the call.

“Did you mean it?” The tone that Craig used was so honest, so open, that Tyler didn’t even need a second to realize the pure elation that lingered in the tears on the other side of the phone. “God, nevermind, I don’t want to ask that. I know you’re overthinking it right now and you’ll try to take it back.”

“I wasn’t,” he argued, despite thinking exactly that two minutes before.

“You were probably like ‘oh this is dumb, fuck feelings, I shouldn’t have asked with the cutest stuffed giraffe and Mini’s favorite flowers that only I’d know’ blah blah blah-”

“I don’t even sound like that!”

“You get that stuffy nose thing whenever you get emotionally constipated.”

“Better than your snoring.”

“Says the guy who can’t remember to flush the toilet at night.”

“Fuck you, I swear to God-”

“Yes.” The steadfast answer stole Tyler’s breath, Mini pressing forward after a sob of joy. “I’m saying yes, you romantic goofball, of course I’ll marry you.”

“Fuck.” But even as he said it, his voice proved how relieved he was, his stomach flipping with unspoken excitement. It took everything in his body not to grin, his muscles vibrating.

“Everything was perfect, and the note, it was-wow. I’m so madly and deeply in love with you. Please meet me so we can discuss this. And by this, I mean our wedding because I’m going to fuck you and then marry the fuck out of you.” Mini’s breathless declaration made Tyler’s ears turn pink on his side of the phone, refusing to look up at Brian’s grin or Luke’s snicker.

“S-shut up, I’m coming home.” He hung up before he could hear Craig’s answer, glaring at his two friends watching him.

“When’s the wedding, Romeo?” Luke asked, grin too wide for Tyler to stomach. So he avoided it, pushing up onto his feet and moving across the room.

“I’ve gotta go.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome!” Brian called out after Tyler, who’d stormed out of the apartment in a flustered rush. Even through the slammed door, he could hear Luke’s wolf whistle, followed by two bursts of laughter that made him curse asking them for help. He hated them, hated the embarrassment and the favors he knew he’d owe them and the itch under his skin over feelings-

But he loved Mini, and that made it all worth it in the end.

#personfullofplotholes #Minicat #Mini Ladd #I Am Wildcat #Fire and Ice boys #<3 #Crimson drabblez

78 notes · View notes

bbnibini · 4 years ago

Text

PSISLY: An Obey Me!CYOA – forty-seven🔖

[ I like it. ]

(Mammon's affection -60)

{ OPEN STATUS : YES

> approved > displaying capture targets

Mammon: 30♡/100♡ Satan: 85♡/100♡ Barbatos: 0♡/100♡ Lucifer: 5♡/100♡

CLOSE STATUS : YES >approved }

It started raining as you spoke, familiar with the scent of petrichor in the air as it hit the earth. Perhaps because of it taking your attention, you mistook Mammon's calm expression with a wistful one for a fraction of a second--gone immediately from your peripheral as he told you, "Forgive me, but we must run." His statement led both of you to an awning of a nearby restaurant. Thanks to his quick response, both of you were only slightly damp, although from the way the rain was turning into a downpour, as well as the clock inching every second closer to your curfew, that may immediately change. Mammon acknowledged that and looked over to your side.

"Allow me to find both of us an umbrella. We cannot stay here for long." And you nodded despite still being weirded out by his mannerisms.

The moments of your lonesome with a downpour just a few steps away from your small safe space led you to a trail of idle thoughts. You wondered about the strange way he was behaving, the reasons behind his actions and most of all, your alarming attraction to a side of his that you weren't very used to. The way he spoke reminded you of the elusive Mammon who wrote you the letter---fancy words filled with love and affection, hinting of shyness and melancholy at every passage. A reserved love that threatened to pour out with every apology, with every praise or pleasantry it pretends to be interested in, masking away the three words that seemed to permeate despite its veneer of propriety. A love that regrets, but loves you despite all the reasons that seemed to argue against it. A love that felt burdened but kept on loving, unnoticed by an oblivious you. A love that loved enough to share jokes and even lighthearted conversations with you despite the weight of its sacrifice. A love perhaps a little too heavy for someone like you who had only noticed it until now--yet despite the weight of its feelings, you'd want to give it a chance.

Why? Because it felt like its sender, who adored you so much (almost to an unimaginable extent), needed it too---to be loved and cherished unconditionally. A wonderful person that deserves a love only equal to his own. That was why you wanted to love Mammon, willing and perhaps even excited to see the side of him he had been trying so hard to hide behind his empty vitriol and threats. You wanted that Mammon to feel that he is also loved, and will be loved despite it all. But who were you to decide for him? Why did you feel not a hint of worry or care once he started acting strange? Why were you excited about his change instead? Was it terrible of you to feel anticipation over it? Any conclusion to your thoughts had to end prematurely with his arrival. He seemed to have run a considerable distance, for the usually energetic him was panting in front of you.

"I apologise for taking so long. Here." he handed you a plain, black folding umbrella as he wiped himself with his wet handkerchief.

"What about you?"

"I'm already wet, so using an umbrella is useless. You however, might catch a cold. Now hurry before Lucifer goes home before us."

You can't argue against that, so you reneged. Hating the silence consuming both of you, you kept on conversing with him as you walked home.

"I'm sorry for making you run in the rain. It must have been difficult getting an umbrella."

"Not really," Mammon sounded almost bashful. "Rather, I felt bad for taking it."

"Taking?" he didn't purchase it?

Noticing your confusion, Mammon answered. "There were actually two of them: a disposable one and this one near the park. The nearby shops have already sold out of umbrellas, so I was left with no choice but to…borrow it."

Pfft!

The old Mammon would have grabbed both umbrellas without a care. This new Mammon was amusing, however. "So why did you only take one?" you couldn't help but ask.

"Why? Well, it would be the right thing to do. What if other people are stranded and are in need of one to get home?" he sounded almost offended while he explained his reasoning to you and it took all of your being not to point out his adorable pouting as he spoke.

"This isn't so bad…"

"Pardon?"

"You. This...you. It's weird but I like it. I really like it." You smiled at him. "Why did you randomly decide to act like this though? Did you lose a bet or something?"

You thought you were in the middle of a lighthearted conversation. Your smiles should already be telling, and so was your playful tone, but Mammon suddenly stopped walking. There was a frown on his face, a look of hurt you recognised at the many instances where his feelings had been overlooked--a mean word spoken out of affection but still carried wounds and scars.

Have you…hurt him?

"Do you really like it that much?" his polite tone sounded forced. "Perhaps you would prefer it if I stay this way?"

The rain was loud on your ears, the black umbrella on your hands colliding with the downpour and creating an uncomfortable, crackling sound. You felt your shoes stepping on a puddle as you were stopped his gaze. His hands were balled into fists, threatening to burst a vein with how tightly it was clenched. Yet…only confusion seemed to register in your emotions, oblivious to the weight of your own words.

"I don't understand Mammon."

You heard him sigh.

"I'm not sure what you're implying but, I like you. Am I supposed to say I hate that you're acting like this, even if it's a lie?"

He looked…tired---the rain not helping to cause an illusion of tears on his spectacled face. If not for the small smile gracing his features, you would have assumed you made him cry as well. Then again, would someone who you hurt look at you so gently? His wet hand laid atop your head.

"You're right. Liking someone shouldn't be so complicated. As long as you like me, even if it's a lie, you'll never leave my side, won't you?"

Blinking, you answered obliviously. "Well, I have a few more weeks left. And even then, we'd still see each other, right?"

Laughter had been his answer to you, along with the long-drawn silence accompanied by seemingly endless rainfall. Silence continued to loom between the two of you even as you fussed over him to take a quick shower and get a fresh change of clothes so he wouldn't catch a cold once you got home. Dinner had been the same as usual, albeit with forced conversations that you couldn't bear to pretend on not noticing. Perhaps he noticed as well, and was rather affectionate with you (probably because of it) once you two were alone. Questions were raised over his strange behaviour, but he had been avoidant, even unaccommodating with his answers, only focused on the warmth of your hand under the dinner table; his lukewarm responses, although polite reminded you of his impulsive old self---his old self that you began to wonder if it's ever coming back.

[ MEMORIA 8: ~Chasing an Illusion~ unlocked ]

>Read now

💌💌💌

Lately, you've been getting concerned questions from people around you:

"Is something wrong?"

Define "wrong". On what grounds should you, in your otherwise not-so-wrong state feel…wrong? While Mammon had continued to act weird, you didn't really mind it. It wasn't wrong. So why is everyone saying otherwise? That there's something wrong with the two of you? You can both be weird at times (read: all the time), and Lucifer didn't seem to mind it before…(sort of). So why is he so concerned now?

"Looking at the two of you is painful. If you two are fighting, talk it out. Make your last few weeks in this exchange program count. Are we getting ourselves clear?"

aRe wE gEtTiNg OurSeLvES cLeAR?

…not. That was a terrible Lucifer impression. Levi wouldn't have let you live it down if he heard it. Lucifer? Yeah, good luck living. Silently thankful for the privacy of your own thoughts, you feigned reverence and pretended you were listening to him.

Why are they acting like this? You didn't understand. Mammon had been wonderful lately and even took you to an amusement park as an early gift for finishing the final exams. That's less than a month by now; everyone was still busy with festival preparations and your date that weekend was the final rest day you're going to have for a long while. Realising the thoughtfulness of his gestures earned him your incessant words of affection. He wasn't cute anymore when he hears it, but his smile was beautiful and made your heart skip a beat. Everyday was bliss. He treated you like a princess and made you feel that you're loved, and you try your best to let him know that you feel the same way. So…why is everyone telling you to go back to normal again?

…isn't this normal? Shouldn't they be happy that Mammon is now a changed demon?

You thought that Lucifer would be your final lecturer for the day until you heard someone knocking at your door.

"Are you still awake?"

Oh good. First it was the Father, now it's the Son. Who's next? The Holy Ghost?

"Yeah. Come in, Satan."

It suddenly felt really warm, which was ridiculous because it was raining outside. You rolled up your sleeves as you asked Satan to come inside, offering him a snack from your stash which he politely declined.

"It will only take a while. I just wanted to say something to you."

You were smiling from the outside, but you were screaming your lungs out on the inside. You wondered if Satan could tell.

"You might be tired of hearing it already though."

Oh, he could. Then again, if he knows, then why is he repeating what everyone else is saying to you? Isn't he supposed to be the mom friend? Can't he see this is already stressing you out?

"A bit…I'm tired of telling everyone we're fine. If Mammon wants to act like that, then just leave him be. He's trying his best to change, so why is everyone concerned about that?" Really. Someone tell you. When you ask, they just look at you with pity, as if the answer was right in front of you all along. Satan reacted the same way as you threw in your usual rhetoric, growing contemplative.

"It's something you should realise for yourself. It's not in my place to say it."

"If it's something I should already know, then why can't I already know? This is ridiculous, Satan. What are we doing wrong? We're happy, so why is everyone treating it like it's a problem?"

You regretted your own words immediately. You saw something new in his eyes. Anger. New as it was never directed at you like this. Though only for a few moments, it was enough to stun you into silence. Fear. What have you done to make him snap? Are you the villain in all of this? Why?

"He's been cursed for a while. Didn't you notice?" He spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Or have you enjoyed playing house with him so much to spare any thought for his feelings?"

"Excuse me?!" you cried. "Cursed? Mammon? I already asked him if he's okay and he said he is! He's been improving lately! He even paid Levi back and never got into trouble anymore! So what if it's a curse? Isn't this what you all wanted?"

Crash! went the empty vase on your desk as you backed away from Satan who had cornered you. He was holding his anger, you could tell; he didn't want to hurt you. Still, you felt fear as you locked eyes into each other, seeing his cruel emerald eyes sucking you to its pent-up anger within.

"I lifted it this morning. Do you know what he said to me?"

Your lips quivered in reply, feeling a film of cold sweat on your body at his every word.

"He said, turn me back."

What?

"Concerned now, are we?" he said mockingly. "If your so-called farce of a relationship with him is happy , then why would he go so far as to ask the witches to turn him into a different person? Tell me, won't you?

Who do you really love?"

No. He's wrong! You love Mammon! You're happy together! He told you he loved you and you said the same! Heck, you were all over each other this afternoon!

You heard a sound come out of you. Your eyes stung from the realisation that you had been gasping for air. You smelled Satan's cologne burying your nostrils, his arms warm and gentle as he soothed your back. What was he saying? Why couldn't you hear him?

Love. Love.

What was wrong with your love? Didn't you love Mammon? Your wonderful Mammon who was more than what he seems? His gentleness and unexpected shyness, his hidden eloquence, the gracefulness of his movements, his small yet loving warm smiles directed only at you..

Is that really Mammon?

You knew you loved him at some point. Did getting to know him…disappoint you? Is that why you pretended there was still love in your heart? No! You love him, you still love him! Your Mammon. Your one and only Mammon. So…why didn't you notice he was hurting? Why were you pushing him to change when he didn't want to? You asked Satan's question back at yourself over and over, while the real one kept calling your name to try and calm you down. You wondered how you slept that night, or if you slept at all. You wondered how many hours had passed since you learned of the truth. How many knocks there were at your door, how much you stared at your uninteresting wall, hoping for something to happen there that would make you...feel something again. You wondered how much of a monster you've become, placing your unrealistic ideals at someone who genuinely loved you. You wondered how much he had been hurting since then. You wondered if you even had the right to say sorry to him for being a grade A bitch. For hurting him, for being an oblivious prick that fell in love with a stupid letter, and not the actual person who wrote it.

And that's what you're only good at. Wondering. Dreaming. Hoping.

…is there any way to fix this?

Why are the two of you circling at each other and not talking,ACTUALLY talking at all?

That's when you started to notice.

There was stiffness in his gestures now; awkward, lacking its usual class--Satan was right. You're tired of closing your eyes at what was glaringly obvious.

"Mammon?" you decided to finally tell him everything the moment when you two were finally alone and you have gathered your bearings.

You need to tell him the truth. You don't even care about being forgiven. You just didn't want to hurt him anymore. Not if all of what he had been doing was out of desperation. Not if he was losing himself in the process. Your heart ached when he directed a smile at you. It was funny that just a day ago, that same smile caused your heart to race, making you feel butterflies all over. Now? You just felt disgusted with yourself. Sick to your stomach. Repulsed. You're a horrible person , you heard a voice say in your head. No, you don't deserve him at all. It added, not even giving you a chance to retort.

"I think we need to talk."

"Oh? Is it about the festival? Did you decide to wear something special after all?"

Oh god. That innocent smile. You hated the thought of it disappearing for good. Then again, you already hurt him, so why don't you hurt him even further?

"Are you alright? You're sweating bullets."

He asked you in concern as you got lost in your thoughts. His warm hand touched your cheek and you couldn't help but hold it so it wouldn't let go.

"No," you began, plucking out all of your courage to look up at him. "We're not okay, aren't we?"

His face paled. "W-what do you mean?"

Something was holding you back from saying your next words. It felt like something was blocking your mouth from saying anything further. Something hurt in your chest as hesitation slowly consumed you, leaving your concerned lover's queries only in painful silence. You tried to swallow it back, hoping that it would go away, but it only continued to spread further, casting dark shadows around your heart.

Should you really hurt him further? After all that you've done?

"I'm sorry, Mammon. This is all my fault, isn't it?"

Ah, his smile was gone , and you were only left with Mammon clinging to you tightly. His voice trembled as he spoke his next words.

"I can change. I will. I'll go back to normal. Is that what you want?"

Normal ? You wanted to cry. So even he was deluded as well, poisoned with the twisted love you had for each other. If you're already the villain in this story, then why not act more villanous? Why just stop there?

"No, I don't want that Mammon. It's unfair. Maybe we should---"

"No! I ain't letting ya!"

You couldn't breathe.

"Mammon,"you began again."You're miserable. This relationship isn't healthy for you. For us."

"No! I didn't hear anything!" he clung to you tighter, shaking his head over and over. "It's okay! I didn't hear ya. We're good. I'm fine. We're happy, aren't we?"

"No we're not. Your brothers are worried about you. About us. Why cling to a love that isn't even yours?"

Your ears rang with his screams. Raw, guttural and painful--screams that eventually turned into sobs. His nails dug into your back, as if holding onto there for his dear life while truth's cruel abyss was slowly pulling him in. You couldn't do anything for him. Kindness will only make him hope, and you've had enough of that now. Try as you to pull him away, however, he stuck to you. Cloying, desperate, hurt. And you, the villain who started it all could only look on, denying the tears that threatened to fall on your own eyes.

"It's me! It's my fault!" he said repeatedly, trembling in your arms. "I lied to you! I kept it a secret from you! I'm sorry! Don't leave me!"

"Calm down, Mammon. Ple--"

"I DIDN'T WRITE YOUR DAMN LETTER!" he shouted, his breaths heavy at every syllable spoken. "The one I wrote was sent to the wrong locker!"

You couldn't believe your ears. More than that…

You hated how hope bloomed in your heart.

>continue to next scenario

#psisly #hamartia series #interactive fiction #obey me #obey me fic #obey me fanfic #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #love letter #secret admirer

5 notes · View notes

avatoh · 4 years ago

Text

RCIJ: Swimming in Summer

Hello @ryik-the-writer it’s me! Late-o santa!

@rumbellechristmasinjuly

Prompt: I don’t think he’s moving

Summary: Mr. Gold takes his son to the pool during the summer for fun. Belle, the lifeguard, saves his son’s life one fateful day leaving Gold in her debt.

Swimming in Summer:

“I don’t think he’s moving,” said Baelfire to his friend, Emma, as he poked at his sleeping father with a large pool noodle. “He could be dead.”

“Really?” Emma said in as sarcastic a tone as a small 10 year old girl could manage.

“Yeah,” Neal said, walking closer to his papa and pulling funny faces, increasingly getting closer to his father’s sleeping figure. “I think he’s done for.”

Emma rolled her eyes as Neal poked more at his pool-side lounging father. Neal flicked a bit of water his father’s way and was met with an unconscious grunt of disapproval that caused the boy to burst out laughing. His father still didn't wake.

“Oh, wow,” Baelfire whispered to himself, going slightly concerned. “Papa?” he said in a louder tone. “Papa, wake up!”

He was met with his father jolting awake, the glasses on his reclined nose falling off.

“What is it?” Gold hissed.

“Nothing. Just keeping you on your toes,” Neal said as he ran away, jumping back into the pool with a noisy and wet ‘splash’.

Gold was awake now. He had somehow fallen asleep in the warm sun at the poolside. The days were hot and the usually adequate temperature town of Storybrooke was now in the middle of an intense summer heat wave. He himself couldn’t even bear his usual 3 piece suit and had limited his own poolside dress to either a suit vest or a ¾ sleeve button up: it was that hot.

School was out, there was no need for his son to go to summer school and due to the smallness of the town there weren't many summer programs. So, most of the days, Gold took his son to the public pool at the town’s rec center to get his energy out and to cool down. There were a few things that he as an adult could do, but most days he just brought a book and read while his son splashed in the water with his friends. Besides, he didn’t trust others like Miss French, the lifeguard, to be in charge of the safety of his son when she had about 60 others to watch over.

He knew that soon enough, he was going to have to relinquish some of his control and trust his son to make smart decisions for himself. But for now, gazing up from his book every now and then to make sure he saw his son’s head floating above the water put him at ease.

Currently, his son’s favorite thing to do was doing fancy dives off the diving boards and had just discovered the tallest one in the deep end of the diving pool wasn’t as scary as it had been to him the previous year. He was proud of his son overcoming his fear but often had to tell him to be a bit more careful about running and how he was jumping. Even the lifeguard, who he thought so incompetent, had blown her whistle at his son a few times for running near the diving board. At least she had noticed that.

Baelfire was approaching the line for the diving board while he opened his book back up and continued reading where he left off. A few minutes later he heard the distinct yelp of his son followed by a weak splash of water.

Gold knew his son’s screams well, and he could usually distinguish a happy yell from an upset yell. The one that he had just heard hadn’t been a good one. He threw his book aside in a panicked manner, already knowing that something terrible had happened. Before he could even see what had happened to his son and get over to him, he saw the lifeguard, Belle French, jump off the lifeguard station and leap into the water. He rushed over to the diving area in a panic and looked into the water below. It looked like nothing. He couldn’t make out anyone under the rippling water, but he could tell that something had happened as the people in the pool were hanging onto the sides or frozen in their spot. A foggy pinkness appeared from under the deep water, followed by his son and Miss French emerging from the depths. Gold teetered on the edge of the pool, half wanting to leap in and help pull his son in and half not wanting to get in Miss French’s way and hindering her any further.

His son was pulled to safety and Gold helped pull his son out of the water. He tried to hold onto his son, who seemed unresponsive, but got pushed away from Miss French with a shove that made his unstable body buckle.

“Hey-”

The lifeguard was checking on his son and started to give him CPR. Oh, that’s why he had been shoved away, he had realized. She was trying to save his son. Baelfire looked so little lying unconscious on the concrete surrounded by a bunch of strangers. He was certainly too young to die?! He couldn’t have been under water for more than a minute. Only 5 minutes earlier, Bae had been poking at him to wake up! His eyes were fixated on his son, who was limp in a pile of blood and water. His eyes refused to leave until he heard his son sputtering and coughing up water. He opened his eyes, which were rolled back and made erratically strange movements. Gold found himself right by his son’s side again, the lifeguard finally out of the way.

“Papa?” his son asked, looking and sounding like he had just woken up. He attempted to get up but faltered.

“I can drive you to the hospital if you think it’s safe enough to move him to my car,” came a voice from the crowd that Gold identified as David Nolan, the town Sheriff.

“I suppose, but-” Miss French began to say.

“Is it or is it not fine?!” Gold demanded.

“I’m okay papa,” Baelfire said, getting to his knees. Gold hugged his son tightly to his chest.

They were only a few streets away from the hospital, three blocks away to be more precise. His son was awake and moving but still certainly needed to be checked out by a physician and given the clear. Gold looked at Miss French who gave him a nod and he helped his son to his feet, Bae was struggling a bit so he scooped his son up with some newly found strength and carried him to where Mr. Nolan was leading in the family sedan. Gold and Bae were in the backseat along with Mr. Nolan’s young daughter, who had tears streaming down her face and was sniffing wildly. It was then that Gold had noticed he had tears streaking down his own face.

When they arrived at the hospital, Baelfire was almost immediately taken into a room and was told that a doctor would see him shortly. The room was white and tiny and there was only one little chair and a bed for his son to sit on. Gold elected to stand up as he kept his son sitting on the bed. He was looking a little bit drowsy and was holding on to his father’s shirt. Gold now saw that his son was bleeding out from somewhere on his head. He didn’t dare investigate further, as he didn't want to hurt his son.

"How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I don’t feel that good,” Bae said meekly. “My hand really hurts too. I can’t move it.”

Gold hadn’t even noticed that there was anything wrong with his son’s hand. He had only noticed the blood coming from his head and the fact that his child had been unconscious. He did his best to keep a brave face and assured his son that the doctors would do what they could to help him and see what was wrong. It was the scariest thing in the world to almost have his son slip from his fingers like he almost just did.

About 15 minutes into waiting, a nurse did a quick examination and ordered some tests based on the results. Storybrooke was a small town and had an even smaller hospital staff, but thankfully there weren't too many emergency patients that day, so they soon were on the path to an almost all-day hospital trip. The thing that took the longest was the MRI scanner. It was a miracle that they even had the machine in the small town, but they did. Unfortunately, there were only a handful of people who knew how to operate the machine, and they were all preoccupied already. Gold was incredibly frustrated, but in the meantime there were other tests and procedures they had to go through. The X-ray technician, who also happened to be a dental hygienist on duty, got the results for them right away and let Gold know that his son’s wrist was most likely broken. Though they did have to wait for the doctor himself to come in and look at it.

The doctor came in almost 20 minutes later, but it had felt like hours. The doctor informed him that Bae had a mild concussion and had sprained his wrist

“Probably as a result of the fall,” the doctor said.

Bae was given a splint and a sling to keep him from moving his wrist, and they were given proper instruction on how to proceed. Gold had to unfortunately give David Nolan a phone call to let him know that they were done, since his car was still at the community pool. David had come out of a waiting room moments later. He had been at the hospital the whole time, explaining how he called his wife to pick up their daughter while he waited for them to finish up. Gold was glad of that and soon they all drove back to the community pool and got their own car to drive home. He couldn’t help but look at his son every 3 seconds as they made their way home.

<hr>

The following days, Gold had been on high alert as to his son’s well-being and Baelfire was well aware of this, asking for ice cream and things that Gold normally would give his son in moderation every few hours. The boy really knew how to play him, but still panicked from the previous ordeal, he gave into most of the demands.

There was a knock at the door: they hadn’t been expecting visitors and the Nolan family had just left from a visit a few hours ago. Gold went to the door to investigate, leaving his son alone by himself. He winced as he left, if this guy was a salesman or some church group, they were really going to feel his wrath. He opened the door to find the lifeguard, Belle French, at his doorstep. The darkness in his heart immediately lightened up, turning into warmth.

“Hello, Mr. Gold.” Belle said, “I just came by to check on Baelfire. I hope he’s doing alright.”

Gold, still suppressed at her being at his door, stood blankly.

“I just wanted to make sure that your son was okay. Nobody's heard a word from you regarding his condition and I haven’t stopped thinking about him! Please tell me he is alright!”

Gold’s mind caught up with his body. "He has a sprained wrist and a mild concussion. He was told to stay home for a while to heal up. I apologize that no word was sent out to you. It won’t happen again.”

“I sure hope not,” Belle said. “I’ve been moonlighting as a lifeguard during the summer for the past 4 years, and I’ve never had anything quite like that happen before!”

“It was an accident,” Gold justified, or at least this is what he’d been telling himself for the past few days to make sense of what had happened.

If only he had been paying more attention to his son and making sure that everything in the facility was safe. When he had questioned his son, all he said was that he slipped.

“Did you, by chance, see how my son got hurt?”

Belle paused and shifted uncomfortably for a moment.

“Yes. I must admit that I saw the whole thing. I just couldn’t reach him in time, I’m so sorry that this happened, and that I couldn’t prevent it. I just, I was far away and-”

“No need to apologize, I should be thanking you for saving my son’s life!”

Belle nodded.

“Well, I wanted to give you this gift basket and wish you two the best of luck and healing,” she said, shoving a well-put together basket in his hands. “I best be going now. I just wanted to hear for myself if your son was okay or not.”

Gold nodded slowly, accepting the present, dumbfounded at this woman’s kindness and big heart.

Belle swiftly walked back to her car as Mr. Gold stood on his doorstep, looking at her. She had just given a gift basket to the most feared man in Storybrooke, and he had thanked her for her help! Mr. Gold never thanked anyone. She had seen him around town and heard almost nothing but bad things about the man. Due to inheriting her late father and mother’s house, she never had many run-ins with Mr. Gold. She knew his son well from school as well as from the pool, but had never really interacted with the man himself besides a few choice occasions where he scolded her for not being more strict with the children making noise and running around the pool.

She had always taken her job as a lifeguard seriously but also remembered what it was like to be a child excited for summer. If only she had been more strict with Baelfire, maybe the accident was preventable. She was sure that Mr. Gold was going to hold a grudge against her for letting his precious and only son have an accident like that. She had told her friends about what had happened, and they told her she better watch out for Mr. Gold and that they wouldn’t put it past him if he sued her for negligence.

“What kind of person would do such a thing? There’s no way somebody would do something like that."

“He would, trust me.”

Two of her friends agreed and she spent two restless nights fearing the most feared man in Storybrooke. Yet another person he had under his grasp. She was legitimately nervous about Baelfire, as nobody had heard or seen him since the accident. The town sheriff, the one person at the pool she ever saw Gold somewhat talking to, hadn’t been in either. She asked around but nobody knew what had happened or heard from him since.

The one thing that everyone knew in Storybrooke, other than that Mr. Gold was one evil and ruthless sonofabitch, was that he lived in the bright pink house near the edge of town. The paint job was legendary and bold. When she first came to live in Storybrooke four years ago, she really admired the building, always wondering who lived in such a bold house as that. When she asked was one of the first times she heard about the famous old Mr. Gold who runs the pawnshop and also ruins lives in the sleepy little town.

She noticed Baelfire right away, as the librarian in charge of Storybrooke Elementary and Middle School. The child had such a unique name and she asked him about the history of it, remarking that she had never met someone with his name before. “Most people call me Bae or sometimes Bailey,” he said, shrugging as she checked out his books.

“You don’t like your name?” she had asked.

“I do, but it’s hard to say and a lot of people make fun of me for it.”

She nodded, understanding. From that day on, every time he came into the library she would say things like “How are you doing, Baelfire?” and “What kind of book are you getting today?” His class usually had library days once a week to get new books, but sometimes she saw him during lunch and recess time as well. He seemed to have 2 or 3 of the same friends but he was usually alone. Some children straight up seemed to ignore him or avoid him, but she had just chalked it up to kids being kids and kids being bullies. She inquired about it after seeing two children in a row change course down the aisle as soon as they saw him.

“Oh, that child’s the child of Mr. Gold,” one of the teachers in the teachers lounge told her. “A lot of children’s parents owe his father a lot of money, so they tell them to avoid antagonizing his son.”

“So they just don’t ever speak to him?” Belle asked, gobsmacked. “They don’t speak to this child because they owe his father rent money?”

“You don’t understand,” the teacher said, shaking her head. “If you anger Mr. Gold in any way, your head is on the chopping block and your life could be ruined. Nobody wants to teach his son in fear of his father’s wrath.”

Belle laughed, not knowing if this teacher was exaggerating or not. When she saw their blank expression she had a feeling they were for real.

“Oh, wow.”

“Yes, he’s never given a teacher too much trouble of course. He’s actually put a lot of his own money into this school for his son’s sake. But one time, when his kid was in pre-school and he had a meltdown, he got the teacher fired. We haven’t heard from her since.”

“Oh my," Belle said again.

“Anyway, just watch out what you say to the kid, alright?” The teacher warned.

“Don’t worry, I will,” Belle said.

She heeded the teacher's advice for about 2 weeks, but the child seemed harmless. He was very polite and very interested in reading. While the thought of his fearsome father was sometimes nagging her at the back of her mind, she decided to treat Baelfire as just a normal kid.

<hr>

Gold stood on his doorstep with the basket in hand and blinked, heading back upstairs to check on his son once more who was still on the same 15-minute episode of adventure time that he had been on when he left.

“The lifeguard came and got you a gift basket. She wanted to make sure that you were feeling well.”

“Really?!”

“Yes.” He set it on Baelfire’s dresser.

“She helped me,” Bae said.

“Yes, she saved you,” Gold said, warmly.

“How come you didn’t let her in? Aren’t we supposed to thank people when they give us things?”

His son had surprised him yet again. “Yes, you’re right. When you’re feeling better, we can both thank her together. So you need to get your strength up.”

“I feel fine,” Baelfire wined. “You’re the one who said I can’t go outside to play right now.”

“That’s because you have a cast on and have a wrist sprain. I’m afraid I’m going to have to keep you inside for awhile until the doctor says you're fine.”

“Papa, that’s no fun, it’s Summer!”

“Sorry, that’s the way it has to be.”

His son pouted but didn’t remark on anything further than that. They watched the rest of the episode and then Bae inquired if he could open the care package now. Gold had really wanted to see for himself what the lifeguard had given his son and make sure it was appropriate, but he nodded, anyway, trusting this woman he knew little to nothing about. Bae was overjoyed and tore at the clear plastic that was surrounding the basket. Gold could see a bunch of sweets and treats in the variety of chocolate and sours as well as a few other things, such as a hardcover children's book and another book that looked like it was a creative prompt-book. There was also a card which Bae was strangely excited about, due to him never receiving much mail addressed to him. Overall, the package was very age appropriate, thoughtful but not too extravagant. It basically was an activity to keep his son busy, which Gold was very happy for. That was probably the most thoughtful thing somebody had done for him in awhile. Again, Gold thought about how he ought to have done something for Belle instead of her doing something for him and his family. What should he do in return for her? He pondered as he saw his son look through the book, which was titled Percy Jackson, a book neither he or his son knew anything about. Perhaps they could read it together, though his son typically read things by himself nowadays.

After allowing his son to eat some of the candy, he asked his son if he wanted to read the book together. Bae nodded.

“Maybe as a bedtime story?”

Gold was still glad that his son wanted to do such things. He was nearly 10 and on a few occasions told him that he was too old for bedtime stories. His son was growing up so fast. He felt like his son was just a baby in his arms. He had devoted his whole life to Bae’s care and upbringing, that he almost didn’t know what he would do when his son left him. He was nearing his pre-teen, which meant in 3 years time he would be a teenager. Remembering his own teenage years, with his own terrible father, he was a little scared at raising a son when he had no idea what a normal way to raise a kid was like. The thought terrified him. All he knew was that when his son wanted or needed him now, he would be there.

<hr>

After putting his son to bed, Gold retired to his office to do a little bit more work before he went to bed. Since he had Bae home all day and was still paying most of his attention to make sure that nothing was going to go horrifically wrong, he had been saving most of his work for late at night, which meant little sleep for him. He thought more about what he should do to thank Miss French. Perhaps a cheque? Would that be out of line or too much? How could he even put a price tag on his son’s life? He could also thank her with dinner or perhaps a gift basket in return, but he really didn’t know about that. He only knew that he had to do something. Gold finished up the rest of his work and then went to lay in bed, his mind restless and not letting him sleep.

The next morning, he made pancakes and his son and him sat at the kitchen table.

“Can we at least go for a walk, Papa?” Bae asked

Gold grimaced. Walking for the sake of walking was something he didn’t like too much, due to his ankle. It got sore rather easily when he walked for more than 30 minutes straight, but he agreed to it. It was good to get his son fresh air if he was asking for it. He took his good cane with him and the two set off, deciding to walk on the nearby sidewalk and just around the neighborhood.

His son was doubly fast as him and often went off ahead alone, only to come back to his father. The boy had a lot of energy in him, and he had been cooped up for some time inside. Perhaps they should drive into town to walk, Gold supposed. The walk ended up being 40 minutes, and Gold was rather hot and sore by the end of it, while his son was unfazed. Exercise was something Gold should probably do more often, but the trouble was that his ankle killed him when he did most activities and he was pretty skinny and healthy, overall. He did know that he had a family history of heart trouble, and he wanted to be there for his son. Frankly, after his walk, he was a little more than a bit concerned about how winded he was from the walk. He never really went that far, so perhaps that was his main cause for concern.

He ended up taking his son to town the next day, where they planned on driving past the aquatics center to give Belle a Thank You card for the basket as well as for saving Bae’s life. It turned out that she was not working at the time, but the lifeguard on duty told them that she would be on the following day.

“Or you can leave the stuff with me. I can put it in the break room?”

“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Gold said.

He was always more of a person to do things in person than through a third party, which was part of the reason he collected rent by going to each and everyone’s house. Rent was due in a few days and he was still deciding the best route on how to deal with Bae. The usual babysitter who watched his son was out of town and summer camp had already ended. He was going to have to find a new babysitter or ask a favor of the only people who were nice to him and his son: the Nolan’s, who had already done so much for him lately. He could always take Bae along with him, which he did sometimes when he had the pawnshop open or had to do a few errands, but his kid was already cooped up and miserable. The babysitter he regularly used was recommended by a mutual business acquaintance, but he had no idea how to go about inquiring about a new sitter who had reputable character. He asked the Nolan family, as well as his regular babysitter named Margot, if they knew anyone who could possibly watch his son and they both recommended the same person: Alice Jones.

Gold met with the temporary babysitter a little bit before trying to catch Belle at the pool again. The babysitter was 20 minutes early and sitting in her car before he figured out who was loitering in front of his house. His first impression of her was that she was a little bit odd, but she seemed sufficient and kind enough to watch Bae for the afternoon when he went around collecting the rent the next day. It wasn't like he had much choice in the matter, and his son seemed to like her.

He told her that he would see her tomorrow and then left with Baelfire to swing by the pool. This time, Belle was indeed there. She was so focused on the children in the pool, she didn't realize Gold coming to her side with their little thank you gift in hand.

“Miss French,” Gold said, as he handed Belle the small thank you basket. “A little token of my appreciation.”

“Oh my.”

She looked at the basket in hand and then out to the water as she got down from her lifeguard tower to reach for it.

“Thank you so much,” she said cheerily.

“Thank you for saving my son.”

“Yeah, thanks for saving me,” said Baelfire.

“No problem!”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you at work,” Gold said, “but I didn’t know any other way to contact you. I take it your house isn't as pink and noticeable as mine.”

Belle laughed. “You didn’t have to go through the trouble."

Some kids were beginning to roughhouse and Belle had to blow her whistle at them.

“I’ll let you get going then,”

“Thank you,” said Belle. “I hope to see Baelfire in the pool again before the end of the year if he’s able too,” she smiled.

“We’ll see.” With that, the Golds departed. He had done his duty.

<hr>

The next day Gold was rushed and panicked, trying to get all of the paperwork and receipts ready to try and hurry up and calculate all the rent in one go. He had been neglecting his work the past week, due to his son and he thought he was ready to collect rent but he was far from it. It seemed that he was going to run a little into overtime. Before Alice, the temporary babysitter, even came early that morning, Gold sent her a quick text asking if she could stay a little bit longer than he previously had asked if need be. Strangely the girl was already awake even though the sun was still coming out and informed him that she was free the whole day and would be willing to stay a little bit extra. This was the most relieving thing he had heard all day…

Alice arrived early once again, and Gold gave her the rundown before setting off to drop by his neglected pawn shop, which hadn’t been open all week. It was really more of his office than a legitimate business, but he still was sad that he hadn’t really had business hours in awhile. Usually, he stayed in the building an hour before he went to collect rent because sometimes residents liked going to him first before he came to them.

Baelfire was still asleep when he set off, though he usually made sure his son was awake at a reasonable time, he told Alice to let him sleep in as long as he wanted to make it easier on her.

Getting in the door to the pawnshop there was already some poor soul waiting for him to open up who was asking for a rent extension as they had emergency expenses that month. Gold actually gave it to them, as he wasn’t in the mood to argue when he still had so much work to do before doing the first rounds of collections. Three more people came in for other various issues that he quickly resolved, and then he began his first rounds of collections, which took about an hour and a half before heading back to the pawnshop. Nobody liked rent day, not even him.

After getting about a third of his total rent collected, he was back at his shop and getting pretty hungry, realizing that he hadn’t remembered to pack himself anything as he had left in a hurry. He resolved to eat at Granny’s Diner before he started collecting more rent in that area.

The bell to Granny's rang as he walked into the building, as usual eyes turned his way.

“I’m here for the rent. I’m also here for my usual.”

He sat down at his usual booth and the Red woman, who usually helped him, gave him a tall glass of iced tea with a lemon slice.

“I’ll be back with your burger and the rent money, Mr. Gold.”

He nodded and pulled out his phone, contemplating asking for an update on his son. He was sure that Alice would tell him if anything was wrong and didn't want to seem too overprotective of his son. If almost like magic, Alice contacted him, giving him a short update on his son saying that Bae was doing well and asked if she could take him outside for a walk. He responded back and then his food came. Halfway through the meal, he saw Miss French walking his way. He hadn’t even seen her enter the building. She quietly walked up to him and stood right by his booth, looking down at him as he was finishing up chewing a bite of food.

“Can I help you?”

“May I sit down?” she asked.

“Be my guest,” he motioned to the other side of the bench.

“Mr. Gold," she said, her voice low in case anyone was listening. “Um, I came here to talk to you about something.”

“What is it?”

“Um, that 'gift' that you gave me,” she slid him an envelope. “It was too much.”

She was talking about the cheque he had put in his thank you card. He had given it some thought and was determined that she would appreciate some money as a thank you for saving his son’s life. Perhaps he had thought wrong.

“I can’t believe it,” she started to say. “I had this sitting on the floor by my station the entire shift,” she exclaimed. “I can’t accept this.”

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said. “My apologies," he said, taking the envelope and sliding it in his breast pocket. "Will half the sum be more to your liking?”

“No! I just....” she paused trying to catch her words. “I can’t accept your money.”

“Fine. But is there anything I can do for you instead. I really can’t let my debt go unpaid. You saved my son’s life, after all.”

“You don’t owe me anything, really.”

“I insist.” Belle wavered and then her whole face lit up. “It seems you do have something in mind.”

“Well,” Belle started. “If you do ‘insist’ perhaps you can make a donation, a ‘small’ donation," she clarified, "to the school library or the summer swimming program. I’m sure the kids at Bae’s school would appreciate some new books and improved conditions.”

This woman was amazing. This woman was selfless. He was in awe.

“Done. On one condition,”

“What’s that?”

“You have to let me do something for you and you personally.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Umm…” Belle wavered. “You can enroll in my swimming class. I can always use a few more people.”

She eyed him and could tell he wasn’t going to buy that request as being selfless.

“Fine. You can help me with my sink. I know you’re a landlord who has a few contractors under your thumb and my sink’s been leaking. I haven’t gotten a plumber to come and look at it yet, but I’m pretty sure it needs work. If one of your guys could swing by and check it out, I’d appreciate it.”

“Consider it done. That’s all you want? Many folks don’t get the opportunity to ask me for things, so please take this into consideration.”

“Yes. That’s it. A donation to the school library and my sink.”

Gold nodded. “I’ll need to know your address and I can have it taken care of when it’s convenient for you.”

“Sure. Let me text you my address.”

The rest of the rent collecting went well that day. Gold came home to find his son in great spirits, and he said he had a lot of fun with the new babysitter. Belle still hadn't texted him, but it still hadn't even been a full day.

About a full day later, while Gold was pouring through some of the logbooks he was working on, he found his phone had begun to ring. It was a call, not a text, a call! He picked it up and heard the soft timbre of Belle's voice.

“Hi.”

“Are you calling regarding the plumbing?”

“Yes. Do you think you can have someone come over on Friday and take a look at my sink? That’s my next day off, and I should be home most of the day.”

Gold only had one man working on Fridays, and he hoped it wouldn’t be an issue.

“That’s fine," he said. Do you have a preference in time? Earlier in the day or later?”

“How about 11?”

“We can make that work,” Gold said, not hesitating. “Are there any pets that he might have to worry about?”

“Just my cat, but he shouldn’t be any issue.”

“Alright. I’ll send somebody out on Friday to the address you texted me. Thank you, Miss French.”

“Sounds good, and thank you for doing this for me, Mr. Gold, I really appreciate it.”

She hung up and Gold immediately called the plumber on duty for that day and informed him to clear his schedule and take emergencies only because he had a special job for him.

Friday morning came and around 10 am he got a call from his plumber.

“Mr. Gold, there’s a septic emergency at the Glass Tower Apartment buildings. A bunch of the apartments are backing up and leaking, well, you know. The bad stuff. I called the other 2 guys to help me. It looks like it’s going to take awhile.”

Gold was upset at this news, mostly because one of his apartment buildings was apparently flooding with shit, but he was also upset due to the fact that he had to cancel the one small favor Belle had asked of him. Perhaps he could go and check out the problem himself. After all, he used to have to worry about building repairs when he didn’t have the income to afford to hire his own handymen. If the problem was too great to solve, he could always have one of his men look at it once the bigger problem was solved. Or just hire another outside plumber if she needed work asap. Going over to suss out the situation was the best course, especially because she expected him in an hour.

After a change of clothes, dressing in one of his less nice suits and putting on an undershirt, in case the problem was really bad, he headed over to Belle’s at precisely 11.

“Oh,” she said. “Mr. Gold. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Nor was I,” he said coming into the building. “There was an emergency in one of my buildings that required all 3 of my plumbers. I’m sure it will be the talk of the town in a few hours.”

“Oh my, I hope everything is alright.”

“It’s alright, but I’m afraid there is only me to look at your sink today. I apologize and will leave if you want to wait for the plumbers on a different day.”

“I mean, you’re already here, might as well see what you can do. I tried to fix it myself but I don’t really know where Papa kept his tools and I’m 90% sure you’ll need tools to fix the problem I’m having.”

“That’s why I came prepared,” Gold said, raising his dusty old tool box. Belle nodded. “I used to do some sort of this stuff back in the day. I mostly know what I’m doing, but it’s been awhile. Can you please lead me to the problem?”

“Certainly, follow me.”

Belle led him to the kitchen and opened up the underneath of her sink up for him. There was a bucket collecting water and a long strip of crafting duct tape with a colorful rose pattern, holding things together.

“There’s a leak,” she explained. “It’s not a lot of water, and I can’t figure out exactly the source. I’ve been kind of putting it off, but it’s just gotten worse.”

“I see.”

Gold took off his suit jacket and bent down, in a bit of a painful way. He really hadn’t the need to bend like this in most cases. He used one of the dryer towels that was under the sink as support for his knees. He worked at removing the tape and then went digging through his tool box. Hopefully, the issue was a simple one, such as tightening a bolt or something. He tried the simple fixes first, until he was satisfied with his work. Belle was lingering looking at him the whole time, asking if she could do anything to help. When he was ready, he asked her to turn on the water and was met with a full on spray of water in his face.

“Oh God! I'm so sorry, Mr. Gold!”

He lurched back suddenly at full force, soaking wet and uncomfortable.

“Shit!”

He lay there in his puddle, uncomfortable and soaked and then did something almost unexpected as his uncharacteristic cursing: he stifled a laugh. This whole situation was all so ridiculous.

“I’m so sorry,” Belle began laughing a bit as well after she heard him laughing a bit more. “Let me get you a clean towel.”

Gold lay there on the floor, a little sore as Belle walked off. Oh, he definitely looked like a fool, but he somehow didn’t care in Belle’s presence. He should have left it for the professionals, but he just felt like he had to do something for her! He attempted to get up, a little sore, unused to lurching back the way he did.

Belle came back to the room with a towel and held him up without asking, which he was grateful for. She helped him to the kitchen chair and he began to dry himself off.

“So it looks like the leak is a bit more of a problem than I expected.”

“Appears so.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Gold,” she apologized, for the third time.

“Don’t mention it to anybody else ever and I’ll call us square for squirting me in the face with sink water.”

“Deal.”

“It’s safe to say, the problem is beyond my help. I can help you put the tape back on, but you’ll probably have to avoid using that sink until I can get a real plumber to look at it.”

“Eat takeout tonight so I don’t use the sink, got it,” Belle answered.

“That will do.”

He started to unbutton his wet shirt a bit without care. She had already seen him soaking wet and his attire at the pool. Besides, he and his shirt would dry faster if he took it off for just a bit. He wasn’t a blushing exposed maiden, after all. Besides, he still had his undershirt on.

After a few moments of rest, he got up to help Belle clean the water from the floor and he winced. She turned her head.

“Did you need some ibuprofen or something.”

“That’d be great.”

He had made her get up again to go get him something. He felt bad. She returned to the room and went to grab him a cup of water, turning on the sink.

“Stop-”

More water splashed on the floor, albeit just a little drop.

“Oh. Guess this is a lot harder than it looks to stay away.” She handed him the glass.

He took the pills down and then stiffly crouched to the floor to help her clean the mess.

After everything was dry, they sat down at the table where his shirt lay.

“This was quite the experience.”

“Trust me, if I told any of my friends how I have come to know you and what we’ve been through, they wouldn’t believe me.”

He nodded. “You certainly haven’t seen me at my best.”

She laughed a bit. “I never would have imagined you being the way you are. I mean, I’ve only seen you around town here and there. You’re not too bad, Gold.”

“Well you’re not too bad yourself.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, sorry.”

“It’s fine. I know what people say. Sometimes I believe myself to be the most hated man in Storybrooke.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Belle started to say.

“Name one other person people hate more.”

Belle thought for a moment. “The Mayor!” Gold let out a short stifle of a laugh. “See! You agree with me.”

“I suppose.”

“See, I don’t really have to deal with you too much. The Mayor on the other hand, she keeps on trying to de-fund the school and library. I feel like I have to argue and fight with her once a week cause everyone else is too afraid to confront her.”

“You’re pretty brave, this is a secret: but she’s even known to frighten me on occasions.”

“Together we can probably stand strong together.”

“Yes.”

Belle gave him a smile.

After a few more long minutes of chatting Gold had offered to take Belle out for dinner, “It’s only fair,” he explained. “You can’t really cook or do dishes today because of me. I possibly made your sink worse than before.”

“It’s fine,” Belle said.

“I insist. What do you want to eat?”

“I dunno. Takeout is fine.”

“Takeout?”

“Yeah. We don’t have to go anywhere and sit down or anything. Takeout still results in no dishes or prep-work that needs a sink. Besides, me and you look pretty scruffy from the sink debacle earlier. People would talk if they saw me together, all ruffled up and stuff.”

Gold actually felt his cheeks redden. “Takeout is fine, Miss French.”

Perhaps this could be the start of something spectacular and new...?

#RCIJ #Rumbelle fic #ryik-the-writer #rumbelle #ouat #my fic #ty to katillac25 for beta work!

21 notes · View notes

cockyswitchsong · 4 years ago

Text

Not Good Enough ⇢ ler!Seonghwa and Lee!Yunho

~●○°●○°●○°●○°●○°●○°●○~

Seonghwa hadn’t really been planning on sleeping in. In fact, when Jongho had told him to go back to bed, and that he would make breakfast for the rest of the group that day, he had been rather terrified. Leaving the other boys alone, for possibly a couple hours? It just, didn’t sit right with Hwa. It took a good few minutes of bickering, but finally he gave in to the maknae, and he snuggled his pillow tightly against his chest and dozed back off.

Those couple hours passed unbelievably quickly, and Seonghwa didn’t move a muscle. The other members, specifically San, had begun to get worried about their Hyung. They sent Yunho upstairs to wake him, hoping that perhaps if Seonghwa didn’t want to be waken, he’d go easy on the group’s big cuddle bear. Yunho didn’t mind, he didn’t think waking up the oldest would be that difficult at all.

He entered Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s shared room, and grinned joyfully to himself as he stalked over to Seonghwa’s side of the room. The oldest was laid on his side, buried under a thick comforter with a pillow squished between his arms. Yunho thought he looked absolutely adorable and genuinely regretted, momentarily, being the one to disturb him.

“Hyung?” Yunho started soft with gentle whispers and a shake to Seonghwa’s shoulder. Used to being an early riser, this did wake the other, and Yunho chuckled as Seonghwa’s eyes fluttered open. “Hi! Good morning~!”

Seonghwa was such a morning person, Yunho was baffled when his hyung just grunted and rolled onto his other side, abandoning his hugging pillow in the process. Yunho watched, shocked, as it seemed like Seonghwa had fallen back asleep, but he shrieked and bursted out laughing when Seonghwa grabbed his wrists and pulled him down on top of him.

Yunho can’t say no to cuddles, especially not with Seonghwa, who didn’t tend to initiate sessions. He ‘wrestled’ with his sleepy Hyung until he was under the blanket beside him, and he was gazing down at the older with a beaming expression. Hwa’s eyes barely opened to look at Yunho, before he smiled and closed them again, resting his forehead on Yunho’s shoulder.

“I haven’t slept this long in years,” Seonghwa mumbled, voice still groggy, and Yunho just hummed. If Seonghwa was about to go on a sleepy tangent about how much sleep he had sacrificed for the group, then hey, Yunho would listen because that is the undeniable truth. They all had given up quite a few things to be idols, and sure all of them had days where they didn’t sleep as well, but Seonghwa always powered through those and still managed to function like a decent adult male on two hours of sleep and six cups of tea.

“You mean over eight hours?” Yunho responded, and he felt Seonghwa nod against his shoulder. “Yeah, it’s pretty great. Maybe if you weren’t such an old man, who has to wake at the crack of dawn, you’d get to experience this more.”

Seonghwa leaned away, considerably more aware of his surroundings than he had been moments prior, and he quirked an eyebrow as he stared up at Yunho. The two made eye contact, held it for a few seconds, and then Yunho blushed and had to look away.

“Did you just call me old?” Seonghwa asked, his voice still low but not as rough as it had been. The question made Yunho chuckle and he nodded.

“Well yeah! Come on, Hyung, you’re 23 but you act like you’re 60 something. It’s kinda hard for me /not/ to call you a-ah hey what are you-“

Yunho was cut off when Seonghwa suddenly rolled them over, getting on top of the younger’s waist and pressing him down against the mattress with his hands on his chest. Yunho could’ve knocked him off if he wanted to, but he knew Seonghwa didn’t plan on hurting him or anything, so he allowed the older to sit on him and pin him.

“I’m giving you one chance, to take that back.”

“And why would I do that, Hyung?”

The feeling of something digging into his ribs made Yunho suddenly gasp out, and something that could only be described as a choked giggle left him as he began to squirm. Now that he knew Seonghwa’s intentions, he tried to catch his Hyung’s wrists, but Seonghwa snatched his hands and pinned them beneath his knees before he could even think of escaping.

“Hyung, please? Is this necessar-eeeeehehehe!” Yunho squealed when Seonghwa’s fingers found his tummy, and he tried. He tried to squirm and wiggle out from underneath him, but Seonghwa wasn’t completely scrawny and Yunho was considerably weakened. Yes, usually this would’ve been an easy battle, and if Yunho did become desperate it wouldn’t be too much of a struggle to get away, but why would he wanna ruin Seonghwa’s fun like that?

“Say you’re sorry!”

“I’m sorry! I’m s-sohohohorry!”

“Hmm.... not good enough!”

Fingers wormed their way under Yunho’s armpits, and the younger idol cried out at the much more ticklish feeling. With his arms clamped to his sides, and hands still trapped, he couldn’t do anything to remove Seonghwa’s hands. He was completely doomed at this point!

He lost track of how long he was being tickled for. Five minutes, ten? Seonghwa’s hands never moved, and he seemed fine with this, finding it amusing how he barely had to put effort in to have Yunho in tears. He got so engrossed in making the younger scream, that he hadn’t even noticed Hongjoong entering their bedroom, until he felt a tiny little hand smack him in the back of the head.

“You two! Stop messing around, we’ve been waiting to eat for twenty minutes!”

Seonghwa just laughed at that, although it was barely audible over Yunho’s panting. The oldest removed his fingers and got off of Yunho, leaving him to curl up on the mattress, wheezing and still giggling wearily.

“I feel as though you didn’t have to hit me,” Seonghwa tried, but when Hongjoong glared at him in fury, he decided that arguing with the tiny leader was not a good decision. So he just sighed, turned back to the worn out Yunho, and carefully helped the younger sit up.

“Are you okay?” Hongjoong asked Yunho, who nodded, grinning as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.

“Of course I’m fine, why do you ask, Joong-Hyung? Couldn’t handle it if you were in my spot?”

Hongjoong flushed and he stammered, but ultimately no words came out. He just let out a frustrated groan, clenching his fists and pouting, before he stormed out of the bedroom. Grumbles about ‘getting them back someday’ followed him, and Seonghwa and Yunho watched him go, giggling together.

“We should go now,” Yunho suggested, and Seonghwa nodded immediately. No reason to upset their leader more than they already had, or to keep the others waiting. “And Hwa-Hyung?”

“Yes, Yunho?”

“You’re still old.”

~●○°●○°●○°●○°●○°●○°●○~

Yunho’s not gonna make it another day 💀

Anyway! Hi, I’m back with another fic, same lee different lee this time! Like always the edit is mine, and I’m open for requests currently, both writing and editing wise.

Stay safe, healthy and be careful 💜

#ateez tickle #kpop tickle #ateez fluff #tickle fic #tickling #ateez #tickle #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #jeong yunho #lee!yunho #ler!seonghwa #tickle fanfic #my writing #tickling fanfic #kpop tickle fic #Seonghwa x Yunho

37 notes · View notes

bagels-and-seagulls · 5 years ago

Note

Omg you wrote in the sequel of "show me your dick" that you love the interruption trope until someone snaps. Could you please, please write David snapping because of blue balls. I love davenzi as parents so much!

couples getting interrupted and progressively more desperate is a trope they will have to pry out of my cold dead hands

It’s not like he was keeping count, keeping track like some obsessed maniac clouded by lust who was desperate to feel his husband’s hands on him because last night Matteo had laughed quietly into the back of his hand as David told him some stupid story and his cheeks were rosy from the cheap wine they were drinking and right- right when David pressed himself into his space to run his nose up the side of Matteo’s face, Michael had come into the room to tell them about a nightmare he had.

It’s not like he knew the last time he had seen Matteo naked was roughly 33 days ago when they were both running way too late and had to swap places in the shower as it was still running to make sure that Matteo could get all the lunches made for school and David could make sure everyone was dressed in clothes that were appropriate for the weather by the time the bus was going to leave the stop at the end of the street that would take them to school. David’s eyes didn’t even linger, and if he had known that the next month and a half was going to be filled with colds, and work trips, and nightmares after cheap horror movies, and just being too tired to stay awake long enough to even make out a little bit, then he would have told himself to, to get his fill in then and remember that his husband was still smoking hot and fine as hell because he wasn’t going to get that sight for a while.

He wasn’t keeping count. He wasn’t.

***

David pressed Matteo into the bed, their fingers linked together above their heads as David ground down, hard and slow, onto Matteo’s thigh just to feel Matteo pant into his mouth and clench their fingers together.

“Fuck,” Matteo breathed out when David dug his thumb into Matteo’s hip and bit at his shoulder through his shirt, hoping that something would bruise there just for his own satisfaction.

“Come on, baby,” David whispered as Matteo pulled up his t-shirt to feel the skin of David’s back. “Just- We could-”

“Papa!” Matilda screeched from the hallway right outside their room, and David thumped his head onto Matteo’s shoulder. Matteo started laughing a little deliriously, like he might be going just as insane as David was feeling, and pulled David’s shirt back down and patted him on the shoulder, like this wasn’t the most tragic thing to happen all week.

“We could just pretend we didn’t hear,” David says, and Matteo rolls his eyes and pushes David off of him to get up and out of bed. David watches him go, staring at the way his hips moved and thinking about taking a cold, cold shower.

***

Matteo was leaning up against David, pushing his back a little uncomfortably into the edge of the counter, but he was grinning into the side of David’s face with his hands underneath his sweater, making him a little too hot under his collar. So David didn’t mind the bite too much, not when he was wrapping his arms around Matteo’s neck to tug him in closer to kiss him, giggling high in his throat.

“We should go to our room,” David whispers, bumping their noses together and slipped his fingers into Matteo’s collar. And Matteo quirks an eyebrow up but grins and nods.

“What are you guys doing?” Sofia asks with just a hint of disgust in her voice, and David would feel a certain type of way about it if it wasn’t the fact that his ten year old just caught her parents making out in the kitchen. At least, trying to. They were getting there. Matteo will probably just tell him later that it was all their fault anyways.

Matteo pushes himself away from David, and David wants to pout a little bit at the loss.

“Did you need something?” Matteo asks. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”

“I got thirsty,” Sofia says and shrugs. Weren’t they all, David thinks. Weren’t. They. All.

***

They get a call from the twin’s school as David has one hand on Matteo’s ass and the other was unbuttoning his shirt where Matteo was straddling his hips on the living room couch because it was the middle of the day on a Wednesday and they both have the day off and finally- finally shouldn’t be interrupted, should get a moment in a completely empty apartment.

“Hello?” Matteo asks into his phone as David bites at his clavicle.

“Wait- Wait- What happened?” Matteo asks in a hurry as he leans away from David, and hand coming up to clench at the bridge of his nose. “Are you- No, yeah, yeah, we’ll be there soon.”

David thumps his head onto the back of the couch, seeing where this was going as Matteo starts buttoning his shirt again and looking around for his shoes. “What happened now?”

“Michael apparently got food poisoning or something, but he’s in been in with the school nurse throwing up for the last 30 minutes.”

***

David’s down to his boxers and Matteo is shirtless. And they’re rutting against each other and kissing with a little bit too much teeth. But David is already feeling a little bit blissed out because he’s got one hand down the front of Matteo’s pajamas, and Matteo is moaning into his mouth and pulling on his hair. And-

And Matilda knocks on their door and tells them she had a bad dream about the monster under her bed again, and Matteo pushes himself away from David like he was a hot coal. And David has to keep telling himself, I love being a father. Being a dad is the best thing to ever happen to me. I love my children, over and over again as he digs the crown of his head into his pillow before pulling on a sweater to get Matilda back in bed.

***

David goes away for two weeks to start filming his next movie, and jokingly asks Matteo to send him some nudes over the phone three days in, though he wasn’t really joking. Not at all.

Matteo says no. David isn’t really surprised though he sighs about it anyways, and Matteo laughs at his pain.

The night that David gets back from his trip, the twins apparently have the flu, and the stress of it makes Matilda just randomly burst into tears at spontaneous moments because she’s sad that Sofia and Michael are both retching into various buckets and pots that they have around the house and also worried that she was going to get sick, too. Matteo has been carrying her on his hip for the last two days, trying to keep her from freaking out, as he’s been going back and forth, forcing the twins to eat soup and drink tea, even though both of them claim to hate it and turn their noses up towards the mug Matteo puts under their nose.

Matteo takes one look at David when he walks in the door like he’s a saint and passes Matilda to him, saying, “Welcome home,” with dark purple bags under his eyes and promptly goes into their room and passes out face down, asleep in seconds.

***

He wasn’t counting, but it’s been over 60 days- over two months- since he’s seen his husband naked.

***

“In the kitchen,” Matteo calls after David announces that he’s home, and David walks in to see him stirring some vegetables around in a pan and goes to curl himself around him and kiss at the side of his neck. “Where are the kids?” Matteo asks slowly, scratching at the back David’s head.

David hikes him in closer. “I knew I forgot something,” David responds, and Matteo elbows him in the ribs. David pinches him in response and bites at his ear because his ability to keep himself together has steadily declined over the past few weeks, and his mantra of just be chill just be chill just be chill stopped working around day 24 of what David is calling the Great Interruption Streak. “They’re at Laura’s,” he answer for real.

“Laura’s?” Matteo repeats, still stirring and not paying enough attention to the way that David’s hands were sneaking closer and closer to his waistband, and David wanted to bite him again just because.

“Yes, you know, their aunt’s, your sister-in-law?” David teases.

He doesn’t see it, but he knows that Matteo rolls his eyes. And David doesn’t really care because his hands were flat on Matteo’s stomach under his shirt, and he’s kissing a line down Matteo’s neck. “Got that, thanks,” Matteo says. “I didn’t know they were going there tonight.”

“I called in an emergency favor,” David hums and turns off the stove to press Matteo back into the counter and then lean up against him, still sucking on his neck.

“Emergency?” Matteo asks, a little breathless, and pulls on David’s hair when he bites on his collarbone.

“Baby,” David says into his lips, looking at him a little cross-eyed and feeling like he was on fire where Matteo was touching him. “We haven’t been alone together in months.”

Matteo laughs through his nose and leans in further to slip his palms over David’s shoulders, under his jacket, to push it off and onto the floor. “So you told Laura you had blue balls, and she took them in out of the kindness of her heart?”

“With promises not to call unless someone was in the hospital,” David says and grins at the way that Matteo was pulling on his tie. “So knowing our luck, we got thirty minutes before that happens.”

“Hm,” Matteo hums. “Lot we could do in thirty minutes.”

#david is just trying to get his hubby on him #that's it #that's the whole fic #davenzi #davenzi fic #future fic #my writing

86 notes · View notes

paintingwithdarkness · 4 years ago

Note

"Please don't cry.” Bluepulse for the writing prompt asks!

“Please don’t cry.”

Jaime could feel the tears streaming down his cheeks as he watched over the footage again. He couldn’t believe everything that had happened within the last 48 hours. It had been chaos; an emotional roller coaster that Jaime was still on. Oddly enough, the majority of his teammates seemed to have already recovered from the incident and had moved on past the initial shock. But the incident was still lingering in Jaime’s mind, and despite knowing it was only making things worse, he couldn’t help rewatching the footage over and over again. It was a terrible thing that had happened, but something that Jaime never wanted to forget.

He could feel himself shaking with restrained fury, anger and fear. Jaime wanted revenge. He knew it was stupid, that he shouldn’t give in to his negative feelings, but he couldn’t help himself. Bart had been shot, and Jaime wanted Deathstroke to pay.

His fists clenched as he rewound the video and played it again. The warehouse had had several cameras, all set at different angles, so Jaime could see everything.

The clip began with a frontal view of the door to the warehouse, and Bart running in at superspeed, only to skid to a stop once reaching the middle of the room. Unfortunately, the video didn’t have any audio (although in retrospect, maybe that was a good thing), but the quality of the footage was good enough that Jaime could see Bart’s lips moving to form the word “hello”. Gar had tasked the speedster with inspecting the warehouse to determine whether or not anyone was inside. Meanwhile, the rest of the Outsiders had been involved in putting out a fire, which was the actual reason they had been called in in the first place. They had already evacuated all of the civilians in sight, but it was standard procedure to check the surrounding buildings as well, and as the fastest one on the team, that task was often left up to Bart to save time. No one had actually expected anyone to be inside the warehouse. It just so happened that this time there was, and it had been one of the worst possible people.

The angle of the video changed, and panned in for a close up of Bart from the side. By this point, Jaime was all too familiar with what would happen next due to watching the footage so many times, but he kept his teary brown eyes glued to the computer screen in front of him nonetheless.

Unfortunately, this angle wasn’t very good for actually seeing where the shot had come from. All that the camera had captured was the tiny dart embedding itself in the back of the speedster’s neck. A tranquilizer. It wouldn’t take very long for Bart’s heightened metabolism to burn off the paralytic, but that minute- those precious 60 seconds- had been long enough.

The angle changed again, this time showing Bart from the back and panning out so that the rest of the interior of the warehouse could be seen. Metal storage containers and boxes created a maze, with Bart at the center. From around the corner of a container just to the speedster’s right emerged a figure, light glinting off the orange face mask and silver of the rifle balanced against the figure’s shoulder. It was dim in the warehouse, and the cameras didn’t have night vision software, but Jaime could see enough to determine that the villain stalking his boyfriend was none other than The Terminator himself.

A growl rose in Jaime’s throat as he watched Deathstroke leisurely approach Bart, and stop about two inches away from his face. Due to the mask Slade was wearing, and of course, the lack of audio from the footage, Jaime couldn’t make out any of what the assassin had said, but from the look on Bart’s face, it hadn’t been anything good.

The glint of metal drew Jaime’s attention as Deathstroke lifted the rifle from its relaxed position against his shoulder, and aimed the barrel at Bart’s right knee. He hissed something- a warning perhaps, or a threat- and fired.

One camera recorded the yellow and orange blast, as well as the smoke curling from the barrel in the aftermath. Another captured the widening of Bart’s viridescent eyes behind his rose-tinted visor, and the movement of his lips as he drew in a gasp of shock. A third caught the splash of maroon that erupted against the red material of Bart’s spandex, and the horrible image of shredded skin and gnarled bone.

A sob escaped Jaime’s lips as Bart fell to the floor on the screen in front of him, hands clutching desperately at his ruined knee, eyes clenched shut, and mouth open wide to emit a scream of agony. The clip ended there.

Jaime wasn’t sure how long Bart had laid on that concrete floor writhing in pain before he’d found him. It had been a terrifying shock. When Jaime had seen the pool of blood surrounding Bart’s leg, and the damage- which Bart’s heightened metabolism had already been in the process of trying to fix; incorrectly- his mind had gone blank. All he could do was panic.

[Jaime Reyes, immediate medical attention recommended for the Kid Flash. His accelerated metabolism is healing the wound incorrectly. Without medical intervention, risk of further damage is high.] Khaji Da served as the voice of reason Jaime needed to snap him out of it.

Immediately, Jaime scooped Bart up in his arms bridal style, and hauled it out of the warehouse, yelling at the civilians who had gathered on the street in the aftermath of hearing the gunshot. He needed everyone out of his way. Bart needed to get to a hospital STAT.

Bart’s hands held tight against his bloodied knee, his eyes squeezed tighter, and his teeth clentched tighter still. His breathing was heavy. Jaime could tell he was in an agonizing amount of pain. He wished he could have done something more to help. He never wanted to see his boyfriend in that state of distress again.

When Jaime had burst through the doors of the hospital, he’d located a stretcher and carefully placed Bart down on it, calling out to the nurses and doctors for attention. Almost immediately a gaggle of three or four nurses and a doctor were at Bart’s side.

“What happened?” one of the nurses demanded.

“He needs help. He was shot in the knee,” Jaime tried his best to keep his voice level. He knew the panic and the adrenaline were the only things keeping him from crying. He hated seeing Bart hurt like this.

“When?!” the lead doctor asked, shocked, “It’s... partially healed. It doesn’t look right.”

“He’s got a heightened metabolism,” Jaime did his best to explain, “He heals quickly- not correctly.”

After snapping on some gloves, the doctor did a quick examination and probe of Bart’s knee. “His patella’s been shattered. Ligaments torn.” He turned towards a nurse. “Give me some ethyl chloride and clear the schedule for OR 2 STAT!”

Having heard the doctor’s orders, the scarab decided to chime in. [Ethyl chloride will be an ineffectual means of anesthesia with the Kid Flash’s accelerated metabolism.]

‘Then what do you suggest?!’ Jaime snapped back. He knew Khaji Da was only trying to be helpful, but the stress and worry he was feeling for Bart was ruling over his ability to control his emotions.

If the scarab could sound sorry, the tone that came out of it next was definitely convincing. [There are no known anesthetics safe for human use that would not be negated by the Kid Flash’s body.]

Jaime swore under his breath. He relayed the message to the doctor.

“Then we need to move faster than him if we’re going to save his knee.” The doctor carefully used a pair of sterilized scissors to cut away the tattered portions of suit around Bart’s injury.

“Jaime...” Bart’s trembly, blood-covered hand reached up to grab Jaime’s own where it was white-knuckled against the stretcher’s side rail.

Immediately, Jaime loosened his grip so that he could hold Bart’s hand instead. “This is going to hurt, Cariño.” Jaime used his free hand to smoothe back the auburn strands of Bart’s bangs which had matted to his forehead with sweat.

Bart’s green eyes turned up towards Jaime’s own, defiantly. “I don’t care,” he gritted out. “Just make sure the others are safe.”

Jaime gave a fierce nod of assurance. He was not going to let Deathstroke get away with what he had done.

He gave Bart’s hand a squeeze when the doctor said it was time to take the speedster to the operating room. He knew Bart was in for an invasive, pain-filled surgery without any anesthesia. Just the thought of it nearly made Jaime sick with worry. He needed something to distract himself.

“Blue!” Beast Boy found him standing in the middle of the ER. The doctor, nurses and Bart were already out of sight. “He’s on the roof.”

Jaime didn’t need any clarification. He already knew exactly who Garfield was referring to.

“I sent the rest of the Outsiders back to the Premiere Building. It’s just us.”

Jaime was perfectly okay with that. He now had a personal vendetta to settle with Deathstroke, and with less teammates to get in the way, that just meant he could do more punching of his own.

When they burst up onto the roof of the hospital, the assassin was there waiting for them.

“How’s the kid?” Deathstroke had his rifle propped up against his shoulder, leaned cockily to the side with his foot up on top of the half-wall surrounding the edge of the roof.

Gar changed into a rhino before charging at the smug mercenary. “Better than you’re about to be!” he retorted, via the translating collar around his neck.

Deathstroke flawlessly avoided the attack, flipping over Gar’s flank with ease. “You young heroes never change, do you?” he taunted. “Always acting by instinct.” He fired some rounds at Beast Boy, causing him to charge off the edge of the roof and crash through the window of an office building across from them. “Always charging in without a regard for your own personal safety.”

Jaime aimed his sonic cannon at the orange and black-dressed man. “What do you want, Deathstroke?” he demanded.

“What do I want? I want you and other teen heroes to stop putting their lives in danger!” He leaped over the side of the roof, and landed on the pavement below, forcing Jaime to follow.

“It’s wrong. And if I have to kill one of you to prove it- I will.” Deathstroke threw an explosive in Jaime’s direction, forcing him to retreat and shield against the debris. Meanwhile, Beast Boy seemed to have recovered from his fly through the window, and came soaring down to the pavement in the form of a hawk. He transformed into a bear and went on the offensive.

“Since when have you ever cared about kids?” Gar shouted. “You’re always hurting kids, aren’t you? Manipulating them. Putting them through hell! Metateens. Terra. Now Kid Flash!” Beast Boy slashed at Deathstroke with his heavy paws, managing to slice through some of the armor covering Slade’s side.

“Get clear, Beast Boy.” Jaime gave the warning as he shook off the effects of the explosion and fired up his sonic cannon once more. As soon as Gar was out of the way, Jaime released the shot.

Deathstroke hit the pavement with his hands over his ears. It took him more than a few moments to recover.

“Playing... with sound waves?” The insult came out more questioning than menacing.

“One hundred forty decibels,” Jaime boasted. “More where that came from, too.” He kept his cannon aimed at the assassin as he and Beast Boy closed in.

“Is there, Reach Boy?” Slade peeled off the mask, revealing grey hair and an eyepatch.

Jaime clenched his teeth. He could feel the tendons in his neck tensing. “You’re the one who helped the Reach abduct all of those metateens! You’re the one who’s been working with Onslaught and Savage to abduct kids to use in Granny’s experiments!”

Deathstroke rubbed his fingers against his temples. It was clear he was still suffering the effects of Jaime’s sonic attack. “You’re wrong. Both of you. I know this isn’t easy, but you have to understand. It’s for the sake of those kids. They need powers to defend themselves. The Light’s problem isn’t with you teenage heroes; it’s with the Justice League. Their system of preserving the peace is outdated. Their methods are crude. They flaunt their powers over regular civilians to maintain control. Nowadays you kids are so involved in politics and speaking out about what you believe in. The Light is just granting kids like you the power to stand up to the system.”

“Only one problem with that plan, Slade.” Jaime whipped around to see where the new voice was coming from.

About ten feet down the road stood reinforcements. Nightwing was leading the pack. To his right stood Tigress, Superboy and Forager. To his left were Geoforce, Static, Cyborg and El Dorado. Floating in the sky above were Miss Martian, Wonder Girl, Terra and Halo.

Deathstroke managed to regain his feet. “And what is that, Boy Wonder?” The mercenary pulled his sword.

“In the process of ‘saving’ these kids from us, you become the new ‘system’ they want to escape.”

Deathstroke beared his teeth and charged towards the group.

“Go!” Nightwing yelled.

Cassie immediately flew towards Jaime, drawing her lasso before landing next to him. “Bart’s not here with you?”

Jaime blinked hard and paused, brows furrowing. “What?”

Cassie gave him a wary smile. “Beast Boy sent us all back to the Premiere Building. A few hours past, and then we zetaed back to check in and see how everything was going. The doctors told us Bart checked himself out of the hospital. We assumed he would be here with you.”

Panic set itself alight inside of Jaime. “What?”

He knew his boyfriend healed fast, but surely Bart hadn’t done something that idiotic? Surely Bart would have waited to tell someone where he was going before taking off.

“He’s not at the hospital? Did he tell anyone where he was going?!” Jaime could hear himself getting worked up. He’d been worried sick about Bart, and now to hear that he’d run off?

“I need to look for him.” The boosters on the back of Jaime’s armor kicked on. “Tell Nightwing-”

Suddenly something skidded to a stop right beside him. “You rang?”

There Bart was, standing in all of his yellow and red-suited glory. Jaime felt like punching him and kissing him all at once.

“Had to run home and grab a new suit. New knee took some getting used to, too, but I think I’ve got the hang of it. Where’s Deathstroke? I’ve got to give him a piece of my mind.”

Apparently Nightwing had heard everything over the sounds of the battle. “That’s a negative, KF. You and Blue are going back to the Premiere Building. Neither of you are in a condition to fight. We’ll handle things here.”

Both of them tried to protest.

“But-”

“I just got here-”

“Now.” Nightwing’s mask narrowed as he death stared them, even while he had his escrima sticks locked with Deathstroke’s sword.

Reluctantly, Jaime kicked the boosters back on and took off into the air, as Bart kept pace with him on the ground. When they got back to the Hub, an awkward silence ensued.

Jaime had no idea what to say. His emotions were all over the place. Bart, on the other hand, seemed to be treating the situation as if it were only another Tuesday, and nothing amiss had happened. Jaime was furious, and relieved, and anxious, and overjoyed. Bart seemed to be okay. He was standing upright. He had just run several miles without any difficulties or signs of pain. But the doctors had told him Bart would need a total knee replacement. How would a standard prosthetic hold up to the wear and tear of Bart moving at the speed of sound on a daily basis? Would it need to be replaced again at a later date? What if it failed during the middle of a mission? Jaime would have no choice but to hold Deathstroke accountable. He was outraged that he had been denied the chance to get even with the self-righteous bastard. Slade deserved to pay, and Jaime wanted to be the one to dish out his punishment. No one was lucky enough to hurt Bart and escape the wrath of Jaime Reyes. Jaime wouldn’t be happy until he knew justice had been served.

They blinked at one another from across the room. Was there anything Jaime could say?

Bart shuffled in place. Jaime knew he had never been comfortable with extended silences.

“I think I’m gonna head off to bed now.” Bart raised a hand up to scratch behind his neck. “Nite, Jaime.” He then turned and ascended the staircase to the upper level before heading into one of the unmarked rooms.

Jaime stared at the spot where his boyfriend had been standing. Something was definitely not right between them. Bart hadn’t given him a goodnight kiss, or even a hug. And what was up with that, “‘Nite, Jaime.’?” Usually Bart used the full ‘goodnight’ and often followed it up with a pet name. He hadn’t even given Jaime the chance to reciprocate the sentiment.

Jaime was still in the process of deciding whether or not to go after Bart and check on him when the rest of the team got back. Immediately, Jaime turned to interrogate Nightwing.

“Where’s Deathstroke?” he demanded.

Nightwing gave a tired sigh and removed the domino mask, revealing the blue eyes of Dick Grayson. “In a armored police van on his way to Arkham.”

Jaime crossed his arms over his unarmored chest. “Did anyone else get hurt?”

Dick shook his head. “I’m sorry about what happened to Bart. Is he okay?”

Jaime turned his eyes down towards the floor and shrugged. “He wouldn’t talk to me.”

Dick gave him a sympathetic look and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Everyone knew he and Bart were romantically involved. Relationship status amongst the team never stayed secret for very long.

Dick’s eyes shifted around the room, seemingly searching for something. “Where is he?”

Jaime used a hand to gesture to the upper floor. “Said he was going to go to bed.”

The older man nodded. “He’ll come around. It was a hard day for him. Maybe all he needs is a little rest.”

Jaime’s frown deepened. “Maybe...” he mumbled.

Dick must have sensed his unease, because he continued to linger.

Jaime shifted his weight from foot to foot, uncomfortably. “Is there footage?” he asked, after a minute. “Of what happened in the warehouse?” He raised a hand to scratch at his nape.

Dick’s azure orbs drifted to the side and Jaime watched him bite his lower lip. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea-”

Jaime cut him off. “Can I see it?”

“Jaime...”

“Por favor.” Jaime knew he sounded desperate, but he had to know. Finding Bart laying on that cold concrete floor, writhing in agony in a pool of his own blood had been terrifying. Jaime had to know what had led up to that point.

Dick looked exteremely reluctant to do so, but pulled a USB flash drive from a compartment on his gauntlet, and handed it to Jaime. “Don’t show this to anyone else,” he said, gently.

Jaime nodded to show he understood. “Gracias.”

Dick gave him one last pat on the shoulder before walking off to join in on a conversation amongst some of their teammates. Jaime pocketed the flash drive and turned to go up the stairs to utilize one of the spare rooms. It was too late to go home tonight. He would just have to call in the morning and explain to his parents what had happened.

He left the lights off and closed the door behind him. Against one of the walls was a desk with a laptop sitting on it. Each of the spare rooms in the Hub had one for mission related issues. Every member of the team had their own login username and password, which could be used on any of the devices. Jaime quickly typed his in and waited for the screen to boot up before plugging in the flash drive. It took about a minute for the footage to download. Once it did, Jaime pressed play.

The first watch through was more shocking than anything else. Jaime’s mind had to process what he was seeing. It wasn’t until the second watch through that Jaime had fully comprehended the situation. The third was when Jaime had started crying.

Bart never should have run into that warehouse alone. They were a team for God’s sake. Why had any of them ever thought it was a good idea to send Bart in alone anywhere? As heroes, they were used to ambushes. Why hadn’t any of them ever thought that a search and rescue could turn into a serious situation? Of course villains would use a mass panic like a fire to their advantage. Why hadn’t they ever put the clues together? If someone had gone in with Bart, he might never have gotten hurt.

Jaime spent the whole night playing the video on repeat. Each watch through was worse than the previous. A new detail seemed to pop out at him every time. The blood. The way Bart’s eyes had widened. His gasp. His panic. The fear shining in his chartreuse orbs. His pain. It made Jaime’s heart throb and his blood burn through his veins. He couldn’t stop crying.

Jaime wanted revenge. He knew it was stupid, that he shouldn’t give in to his negative feelings, but he couldn’t help himself. Jaime wanted Deathstroke to pay.

A knock at the door startled Jaime, and he slammed the laptop lid closed as fast as he could. He hastily tried to wipe the tears from his cheeks, but he was too emotionally distraught; everything he wiped away was quickly replaced with more salty droplets.

The door opened to reveal a familiar figure sillouted against the light streaming in from the hallway.

“Blue?”

Bart closed the door behind himself and reached over to flick on the lights. Jaime immediately averted his face.

“Whoa, hey, are you crying?” Bart immediately rushed over, and knelt beside Jaime, laying gentle hands on his shoulders.

“No,” Jaime lied, keeping his head down.

Bart’s hands carefully cupped his jaw. “Look at me,” he ordered, softly.

Reluctantly, Jaime lifted his head to look at Bart.

Bart used a thumb to brush some of Jaime’s tears away. “What’s wrong?”

Jaime crossed his arms and shifted his gaze downwards again. “Nothing,” he mumbled.

Bart frowned. “Don’t lie to me, Jaime. What’s bothering you?”

Jaime shifted and slowly reopened the laptop. When Bart saw what was on screen, he gave Jaime a pitying look.

“It’s my fault,” the older teen said, “If I had gone with you, you wouldn’t have gotten shot.” More tears streamed down Jaime’s face.

Bart’s hands gave Jaime’s shoulders a squeeze. “It’s not your fault, Babe-”

Jaime cut him off. “It is.” He stood up, pulling Bart up with him. “This is my fault-”

Jaime pointed to the fresh pink scars covering Bart’s knee. While he did heal fast as a speedster, it didn’t mean that Bart went completely unscathed. Injuries that were going to scar would scar. He wasn’t immune to them just because he healed faster.

“These are my fault-” Jaime gripped Bart by the biceps and spun him around. He crouched down to run his fingers up the backs of Bart’s ankles where several faded white scars marked his Achilles tendons.

“These are my fault-” Bart gasped as he felt Jaime lift the legs of the basketball shorts he was wearing, to reveal several jagged strips of skin marking the backs of his thighs.

Before Jaime could go any further, Bart twisted back around. “Please don’t cry,” he begged. “None of these scars are your fault. Everything that’s happened to me has been a product of circumstances neither of us had any control over.”

Jaime shook his head. “I hurt you. I gave you those scars. And because I wasn’t there yesterday in that warehouse, you got hurt again.”

Something in Bart’s eyes changed. There was a spark igniting behind the jade irises. Jaime recognizes that look. It was the same defiant expression Bart wore on the battlefield. It meant he wasn’t going to back down. He wasn’t going to lose.

The auburn-haired boy propped his right leg up on the desk chair Jaime had abandoned.

“The Reach gave me these. Once as an experiment-” He pointed to the white marks on his Achilles. “The others as a punishment.” He slapped his hand over the pink lines marring the back of his thigh. “Deathstroke is responsible for this.” Bart slid his hand down to cup his now artificial knee. “All of the people who have hurt me had one goal in mind: to prevent me from running. They wanted to send a message; they wanted to destroy my spirit. I’m a speedster. I run. It’s what I do, and who I am. But the one thing people don’t understand about us speedsters is that we’re also stubborn. I’m not letting anyone stop me.”

Jaime blinked at his boyfriend. That speech was perhaps the most profound thing he had ever heard Bart say.

“So there’s no reason for you to cry. None of this is your fault, Jaime. You’ve done nothing but love me and support me since we met. I promise, I’m not going anywhere for a long time. I’m not going to let one gunshot wound stop me.”

Jaime couldn’t help himself. He started laughing.

Bart have him a concerned look.

“Lo siento. It’s just- Dios mio. I was so worried about you! You got shot, had your entire knee replaced, and did it all without any anesthesia. And you’re not even fazed! You’re running around like it’s just any normal Tuesday, and you just gave that kickass profound speech... I’m baffled, Amorcito.”

Bart raised a finger. “It’s actually Wednesday.”

Jaime snorted a laugh shook his head in exasperation. He was done crying. “Come here.”

Bart removed his leg from the chair and took a step forward so that he was standing right in front of Jaime.

The raven-haired boy hugged him around the waist, pulling the younger flush against him.

“I love you. I have the strongest, bravest, crashest boyfriend in the world.” Jaime smashed his lips against Bart’s, pouring out all of his relief.

“I won’t argue with that.” Bart smirked when they pulled away for a breath.

Jaime rolled his eyes, and leaned in to kiss him again.

Omg, Anon! I’m so sorry this took me so long. I have no excuses. I tried to make it a little longer to make up for my shortcomings as far as a decent time range for getting this out goes. Once again, super sorry for taking this long with it.

I used the Teen Titans 2003 comics as inspiration for this piece. It’s an amazing set of comics, and I would highly recommend to anyone who has not read them yet. This particular scene where Bart gets shot is covered in issues 1-4, which is actually where I got a lot of the dialogue from for this (I just replaced Cyborg with Jaime, and changed a few words). This version of Bart as Kid Flash is actually one of my favorite versions of him. I absolutely love his suit design in this run.

If you have read the comics, I apologize if this Drabble comes off a little redundant. I really just wanted to explore the situation for myself and of course, add a twist of bluepulse. Hopefully it’s enjoyable tho?

13 notes · View notes