#oh god that yag is back

[cyberneticatoms]

WHO: Joshua Golding, Ven Waley (26), & Yoel Waley (28)

SUMMARY: Ven is given treatment to deal with Yag's death and the fall out from it. Josh and Yoel agree it's really for the best.

TRIGGERS: Mentions of death, car crash, gaslighting, medical abuse, and murder

Ven glanced down at the IV in his arm, the almost lilac liquid likely should have been concerning but everything felt so far away. His body felt tired, like he'd run multiple marathons back to back. Though he really couldn't figure out why he felt like that. 

“Ventus can you hear me,” he heard a voice ask. 

He hadn't even realized he'd closed his eyes before he opened them and stared forward to meet Dr.Swanson’s gaze. 

“It's just Ven,” he mumbled, the words coming out more slurred than he expected them to be. 

“Ven, this is meant to be our last session. Do you remember why we started meeting?”

Again he blinked his eyes open, glancing around at the almost pure white room they're in. He can see what looks like a mirror on one wall, vaguely he thinks he remembers that it's one sided, that maybe Yoel is on the other side. Though he's not sure why knows that either. 

“Ven,” his gaze snaps back to the doctor, “Do you remember why we started meeting?” 

Ven took a deep breath, his head clearing somewhat before slowly nodding his head. “I was in an accident and it…,” he paused, chewing on his lip. Could feel his heart rate picking up as flashes of a night of partying came back, “My friends were there Asuka…and Yag…he…”

Trailing off his hands had started to shake, there was screaming, blood, so much blood he thought. The days after waking up, Asuka crying, Yoel looking pale, could overhear Josh snapping at various people, voice cold, never yelling but his immense displeasure clear for all to hear. 

“Yag he….he didn't…fuck…oh god…I…,” Ven could feel his breathing getting rougher. 

“Ven,” the doctor said, voice cutting through everything and making him refocus. Now he can see a button in his hand, hears it click and oh. 

There's a coolness in his arm, glancing at the IV, feeling that lilac liquid spread from his arm outward. The panic subsides, like a small humming beneath the surface and he feels warm. 

“Better?”

Swallowing he slowly nods again, “Yeah, it feels better,” he said softly. 

“You won't need the IV anymore, Dr.West has an oral medication for you now. Whenever you feel that panic, you take it, do you understand?” 

He's nodding again, he hates how he just felt, the dread and anxious feelings suffocating. He prefers this, the warmth and floating feeling letting him actually think. Or at least that's how it feels. 

“You were in an accident, Ven, tell me what happened.” 

It's easier now, feeling detached from that night, “I was out with Yag, Karma and Asuka. Karma went home and the rest of us were in a car crash and I was driving-”

“That's not right Ven, you weren't driving. It was Asuka wasn't it?”

His brow furrowed, it was him wasn't it? They've gone over this night so many times. “No it was-”

“It was Asuka, she was driving,” he hears a click and the warmth is back, nodding his head before he could think of it. 

“Asuka was driving,” he mumbled. 

“Right, keep going.”

“We got in a wreck,” he said, licking his lips, “And then I woke up, I’d been out for a month. Yag…something happened to Yag…he-”

“Yag is fine, Ven. You were in a month-long coma, and he needed some physical therapy for a few months, he was also sick for a portion of time. It was very upsetting for him. It’s almost been a year since that night, everything is fine.”

His brow is furrowing again because that doesn't sound right, it doesn't feel right. But the doctor is confident and his chest feels tight again as he struggles to find his breath. 

“Focus Ven, Yag is perfectly fine. His father was upset, that's why you feel conflicted. Asuka felt very guilty.” 

The warmth is back again when he hears a click and he's relaxing back against the chair. A sigh slips out as he nods, “Yag is fine, Asuka felt bad.” 

“The whole night was very upsetting. You worried Yoel and Josh. You don't want to upset people do you? You don't want to make Asuka cry, right?”

He's shaking his head, “No…I don't want anyone upset. I don't want to make anyone upset,” he agrees. 

“So it's better to just let that night go, focus on feeling good. No one wants to be upset, so don't talk about that night. Talking about it makes people upset and you don't like making people upset.” 

“Don't talk about it,” Ven mumbled, hearing the click and warmth is back again. He sighs again, this feels better, not talking, not thinking about it feels better. No one is upset and he feels good. 

“Good job Ven, if that night starts bothering you again, you tell Josh or Yoel. They'll fix it.”

“Dad and Yoel can fix it,” he repeated, closing his eyes and hearing a door close as he let himself fully relax in his chair. 

Staring at Ven through the two way mirror, Yoel feels his stomach turn as he watches his brother repeat the lines the doctor has been feeding him for the last few months. He'd been chewing on his lip as he watched the whole process, he didn't know why he always came to watch.

Maybe just to make sure this was all they were working on, or maybe just needing to be near his brother. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Josh flipping through various screens on his holotablet humming to himself. 

“Josh…,” Yoel mumbled. 

“Don't mumble, Yoely. That speech therapist wasn't cheap, you know,” Josh said before turning to look at him. 

Yoel cleared his throat shifting in place before sneaking a glance at Ven again. “I don't…I mean it's just…,”

Hearing a sigh his gaze snapped back to Josh who had crossed his arms over his chest. “Think it through, bud, what do you want to tell me? Take a breath and think.” 

Taking a breath Yoel paused, thinking over what he was feeling. It was something that had been ingrained in his head since he was a kid, tell Josh everything, he can help. But he couldn't help if Yoel didn't make all his feelings and thoughts clear to him. 

“I'm worried and scared about this, I don't know if this is the right thing to do for Ven right now. I mean hell I don't know if he should even be around Yag anymore or whoever he is now…like I just…this is all just…I…”

“Stop,” Josh replied calmly holding his hand up, “Take a breath. You're rambling and getting lost in your feelings.” 

Yoel swallowed, taking another breath and trying to process through everything. Before he could speak Josh had cleared his throat. 

“Yoel,” this got his attention immediately, it wasn't like Josh not to use nicknames. “Let me be clear here. Ventus had a breakdown over the truth, suffice to say he couldn't handle it. He's your brother, so you tell me, would you rather have him sobbing uncontrollably in the corner? Needing to be constantly sedated because of how much of a danger to himself he is?”

There was a beat of silence, Yoel unsure if he actually wanted an answer. Even worse, unsure of what answer he even wanted to give. 

“We both want the same thing, Ventus to be happy and to protect him. We're doing that now, we're protecting him.” 

Yoel bit his lip again, before slowly nodding and letting out a sigh. He was right, they were just protecting him. It was fine, it had to be fine. 

When he heard the door open, he gave a nod of acknowledgement to the doctor. Letting Josh handle things as he waited to be allowed back in to check on Ven. 

“Everything looks good, Mr.Golding, as long as he stays on his medication shouldn't have any more issues,” the doctor said as Josh took his holotablet back out. 

Josh was scanning through various documents, confirming that everything had gone right when the doctor cleared his throat. Glancing up Josh raised a brow, “Yes?”

The doctor shifted slightly, “So all of that is really true then? Drake had his son remade as a synth?” His voice was low and hushed, but his eyes were wide. 

Yoel’s fists tightened at his sides but he stayed silent already knowing what was about to happen. Especially when he saw a familiar screen for a split second on Josh’s holotablet. 

Smiling Josh gave a small shrug, “Well a father's love knows no bounds,” he said, swiping his tablet away, “Ah there you are Utena. Would you kindly see the doctor out?” 

Yoel looked down and barely managed not to flinch when he heard the gun go off, even with a silencer. He was staring blankly at his sneakers, a few drops of blood on his left shoe splattered on the end. 

He stayed still waiting before hearing Josh clicked his tongue. “Sorry bout your shoes, bud, but you know the drill.” 

Yoel nodded, careful as he slid out of his sneakers and handed them to Utena who placed them in a bag. They gave him a sympathetic look, even if they didn't know what all was going on with Ven, they'd at least been frequently checking in. 

It was better that they didn't know, Imogen and Utena already doing him the largest favor he'd ever asked for, taking on Conner. They touched his cheek brushing his hair back, “Dinner tomorrow, bring Ven, alright? Asuka too if she'd like. The Wests already agreed to come.” 

Nodding he was careful when he left the room, avoiding any of the blood trailing through the room. “Hey bud,” glancing up at Josh, Yoel paused mid step, “Venny still got the rest of the month off to recuperate. Means you gotta do double time, alright?”

It's phrased like a question but he knows it's not, not really. But they have Asuka at least to be with Ven when he can't, nodding at Josh who gives a lazy wave when he lifts his hand as he walks away. 

Walking into the room, the floor feels cold in just his socks. Carefully Yoel removed the IV, his brother stirring as he wrapped a bandage around his arm. 

“Yoel…,” Ven mumbled, blinking at him through the haze. 

“Yeah, it's me,” Yoel said softly, bringing his hand up and brushing some of his hair back, the same way Utena had done for him moments ago. 

“Mmm,” Ven mumbled, leaning into the touch with a sigh, “Tired…”

“I know, bud,” Yoel said, careful as he helped his brother out of the chair. “Let's get you to bed, we got dinner with everyone tomorrow.” 

[snoople-boop]

Fandom Oneshots: A Drunken Invasion (The Walten Files)

This was requested by TheGrimRead3r on A03. If you want to request me anything let me know (keep your fetisheize to yourself and don't request me any weird shit. Your gonna get blocked if you do)

Susan was cleaning the restaurant, then knocked over a cup "I'm doing my crap, I hope I don't knock over a cup and- oh God no! I can hear him he's coming!" Suddenly, the lights in the restaurant flickered and the sound of heavy footsteps grew louder as they approached the dining area. Susan’s heart pounded in her chest as Bon the animatronic rabbit, walked into view.

"W hy th e f uck d id yo u bre ak the m ug y ou du mb s hit, wh at th e fu ck!" Bon's animatronic eyes flashed with anger as he approached Susan. His metal joints creaked as he moved towards her, each step echoing ominously through the dark restaurant  "boss please it's been 25 years, I don't want to do this anymore" “Susan pleaded with Bon, her voice filled with desperation. "No I- go a nd clea n th is up yo u pie ce of s hit!" Bon's animatronic jaws opened and closed, his voice box letting out a distorted laugh. "You won't give me my salary" “Susan looked up at him, determination in her eyes. "Sh ut t he fu ck up". Bon then looked at the cash register and opened it. As the cash register sprang open, Bon's eyes flicked towards it, "Act ually I'm gon na do thi s GTA sty le, he re yo u I'm g onna s teal so me mo ney" Susan watched as Bon started taking money from the cash register. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she realized what was happening. "Wh- why would you do that?" she exclaimed.

"Bcau se I do n't lik e yo u, y ou fuc king pie ce of ol d s hit yag abo ripo ff looki ng moth erfu cker. Ho pe yo u sh it yo ur pan ts a nd c um in pe e!"

"Guys look!" Molly said as both Susan and Bon see three people with bottles of alcohol around them. Susan quickly looks over her shoulder at the three people Molly indicated, while Bon's head snaps in their direction. The three people were all holding bottles of alcohol and appeared to be drunk.

Susan couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as she saw the trio, while Bon's animatronic eyes fixated on them with an unnerving gaze. "Bon" then transformed into his normal self and walked out of Bon's Burgers "should we stop him?" Molly said then Susan shrugged

****

"Hello! I'm the car from Cars Two, hello? Hello?" Kevin tried calling out as the rest were annoyed "stop talking, just shut the fuck up, look at this house"

Then then drunkenly walked over to the house and Ed opened the door "dad there's people here!" Ed didn't see Sophie

"Hey" Jenny said as she was sluring "this is a cool place"

"Thank you same over here, so today let me introduce you to all my friends this is- this is my dad" Jack was next to Ed "yo what's fucking good I smoke weed for a living" Keven "I don't like this honestly, like-" unsure of what to think. "I don't care, you are staying the night we love you here! I will ██ your ██ If I have too" Jack said then handed him a piece of candy "here's a candy that makes you rock hard my guy"

Keven was scared

"I don't care, you will be here horny or not! I will watch you through the window!" Keven gave him a thumbs up "I am horny as well, do you see these images I ██ on all of them!"

Jenny's blunt remark and carefree attitude caught everyone's attention, causing them to glance back at her. Suddenly, she pointed down the road and exclaimed, "Hey guys, look! It's a white man!" They spotted "Bon" walking down the street, and in their intoxicated states, an idea sprung to mind

With a mischievous grin, Jenny snatched the radio from the house and quickly turned it on, blasting Shostakovich Waltz 2 at full volume. "Bon", exhausted from the events of the night, felt like he had reached his limit. As he walked down the street, he heard the distant sound of Shostakovich Waltz 2 blaring from somewhere nearby

With a scowl on his face, Bon muttered to himself, "I've h ad en oug h of th is non sen se."

Just as "Bon" was about to turn away, he was suddenly interrupted by a loud, drunk voice. It was Kevin, stumbling through his words

Kevin had a smirk plastered across his face as he shouted out, "I'm sorry, I don't speak Russian!" He was slurring his words, clearly intoxicated

"Bon's" eyes fixed on Kevin, irritation etched on his face. The group of drunken revelers spotted a stick lying on the ground. Without missing a beat, they eagerly picked it up and began to chase "Bon" with it. Giggles and laughter filled the air as they pursued him with the stick in hand. The tables turned as "Bon" found himself backed into a corner by the drunken group. He transformed back into animatronic form, his eyes flashing with anger. With a menacing tone, he growled out, "Yo u do ne fu ck ed up no w, I do n't ca re yo u w ill f ail- y ou wil l fal l do wn to me!"

Not a single thought was in there head

The drunken group was far too carefree to think about the consequences of their actions. They stared at "Bon," now in animatronic form, with a mixture of drunken confusion and amusement

"I've gai ned the pow er of v oice chan ger! Wh at's goo d! I ca n bec ome m ore sc ary, y ou kn ow wh at? N ah. I ca n be fuc ki ng- I ca n be T P ain, yo wh at's go od It is I, T P ain. Loo k g uys I c an hav e th e fu nny m ic, I d on't ca re. I w ill lit era lly k ill yo u in yo ur sle ep! I c an go ev en hig her I sou nd lik e I s hit ed 17 bric ks! Vi be ch eck!"

Kevin, in his drunken stupor, fixed his gaze on "Bon" and slurred out, "Look at your ass! You're built like a rope-ly ass!"

The others chuckled at Kevin's blunt comment, finding amusement in his comment, The tension in the air heightened as "Bon" felt threatened by the group's antics. Kevin, still stumbling his words, chimed in with a wicked grin, "Please for the love of god I'm going to piss on your cactus, I will shit on your hogala! You can't stop me!"

"Bon's" eyes widened in panic as Kevin's words sunk in.

"NO T MY AR EGAR A! ANYT HIN G BU T TH AT!"

****

"Anyway my masterbation session is over, time to sleep. Dimd dimb. Who is- you know what? Doesn't matter I'm going to sleep, fuck off"

The air around Jack was filled with the sound of his snoring, causing Rosemary to grimace in annoyance

Feeling frustrated, Rosemary muttered to herself, "Goddamn it, Jack snores like a chainsaw. It's driving me insane." In her frustration, Rosemary felt an overwhelming urge to end it all, just to escape the noise. Meanwhile, Jack remained blissfully unaware of Rosemary's distress, filled with loud snores and muttered talking "ooga booga, ooga booga, I am your repressed sexually". Rosemary slowly looked at him as he kept snoring. Jack's muffled voice broke the silence in the room, and he mumbled out, "I want to masturbate, and eat rocks.."

His words, though incoherent, echoed in the room, adding an extra layer of absurdity to the already chaotic atmosphere. Rosemary rolled her eyes at Jack's sleep-talking, silently wondering what was going through his mind.

****

The group of ghosts huddled around the burger joint board, engaging in a debate about what to watch. Brain suggested family guy season 12, but Ashley had a different opinion.

"But I like South Park better," Ashley countered, her preference clear. Charles, with a sly grin on his face, chuckled softly to himself. He whispered to the others, "Haha, little does he know I'm going to make them watch Marley And Me."

He confidently inserted the tape, ready to subject his fellow ghost to an emotional rollercoaster of a movie.

"Bon" became a furry that night, and let's just say. He killed himself

[jcorpse]

[sergeantsexface]

That Boy is a Monster

Chapters: 1/4?

Fandom: Check Please! (Webcomic)

Rating: Teen

Words: 1500 

Warnings (overall): body horror, angst (Let me know if there are others that should be added!), mention of a couple of real life hockey players. 

Notes: Inspired by a few things, but mainly @whoacanada‘s NHL!Bitty series and my commission from @omgpieplease. Title from Lady Gaga. I’d started on this before @omgcpumpkins, but I thought it fit the theme. :)

Summary: 

Bitty knew about the hockey gods, of course. Hockey players could be quite superstitious indeed, making their own rituals in routines. But he didn’t exactly believe in them. 

Now he’s on a pro team. He’s in the big show. The Schooners have made the playoffs. And playoffs…are a different creature altogether. For even if you don’t really believe in the hockey gods, they believe in you. 

Show Me Your Fangs

Eric's first year in the NHL flew by. The prospect camp for the Schooners was fun and went better than he could've hoped. In September he killed it in the rookie exhibition and the preseason games.

Come October, he was playing in the NHL, for real. He, Eric R. Bittle, Jr., was playing professional hockey! A former figure skater from Georgia was on the starting roster of the Seattle Schooners!

If you’d told him in his freshman year that this was what he’d be doing after graduation, well, he’d probably have been quite concerned about your head injury, or perhaps asked for your supplier on Shitty’s behalf.

It was terribly difficult sometimes, to be sure. Jack was on the other side of the country. Skype helped, and calls every day they could manage. Packing months of affection into holidays that were all too brief.  

But they won games. And lost some. But the important thing was, they won enough.

Enough to make the playoffs. PLAYOFFS!!! And wasn't that something else altogether. Out of 34 teams, he was on one that was getting a chance at the Stanley Cup!

And then. Not long after they'd secured their spot, there was a team meeting. Nothing unusual, Eric thought, the coaches just wanted to get them psyched up, keep them focused.

Which, it was, yeah. But after the expected speeches...

"Okay, so if there's any trouble with the creature features..." there were several amused snorts. "...Just see us or the trainers. We know it can get hard to deal with, especially for the rookies." He went on to tell them about proper fang dental hygiene (same as usual, but get extra toothbrushes, and eat more calcium, apparently).

"What," he said incredulously. "That's...something that happens? Playoffs turn you into...into a monster?!?!"

He looked around. Most of the other rookies looked kinda stunned. The more experienced players just nodded.

"Yeah, how much usually depends on ice time," Cricket said. "And no, you wouldn't have heard of it. Being able to actually see it, that's limited to players, other playoff teams, and some of the hands-on staff, like the trainers. It's been happening since at least the '60s, they think. Maybe earlier, but they don't talk about it that far back."

"Wha- Why?" Eric stutters out.

"It's...I dunno, a thing with the hockey gods. The regular season is hard enough. All the big and little sacrifices to make it on the ice. To get through playoffs, you need more. And so we get a little help."

His stomach twisted. He thought back to last year, when the Falconers had made their own deep playoff run. George had warned him, obliquely. Jack had been grumpier, more irritable sometimes, but not really any worse than he'd been at Samwell. Bitty just chalked it up to it being his rookie year in the pros. Of course it would be more stressful.

That night, Eric makes a somewhat stammering call to Jack.

After the sweet greetings and I-love-you's are said, Bitty finally asks.

"So. Hockey gods and monsters on ice. What the fuck, Jack?"

Jack looked slightly sheepish. "Ah. Guess I should've expected this once Seattle made the playoffs."

"I mean, it does explain why you were a bit weirder than usual last year. And the biting." Jack pinked at that. Eric smiled at him. “Not to say that I’m complaining ‘bout that, mind.”

"So many times I wish I could've told you. But would you have believed me without being able to see for yourself?"

"No, I suppose not. But you look perfectly handsome as ever."

Jack dipped his head and gave a shy grin. "Well, of course, the first round hasn't even really started. Nothing to see, yet."

"I figure I'll deal with that as it comes, how bad could it get for a rookie? I'm a little more concerned about...appeasing the hockey gods. Gosh, there's a sentence I never thought I'd say with any sort of seriousness."

Jack was silent for a minute, clearly thinking. "Hrmm. A quick prayer never hurts. But with how my dad and Yags talked about it, it's in the little things. Our pre-game routines, the cellys, even the fights and injuries, all the little dedications that sometimes you don't even realize you're doing. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. You’re as dedicated to the game as anyone I know."

"Wait...Yags?"

"Oh, Jaromir. Jagr. He's with the Aces now, you might face him soon enough! He's been in the NHL for longer than you've been alive, Bits. He knows things."

Eric didn't know why he was surprised. Of course Jaromir Jagr was among Jack's hockey uncles. He’d won a couple of cups with Bob and Mario. They probably didn’t get to meet up much because oh yeah, he was still playing pro hockey.

On the other hand, hockey gods and ice magic would explain a lot about that.

At the Schooners’ next practice, Eric paused to breathe in the chill of the rink. Okay. Fine. Whatever happened, he would do his best. He’d made it this far.

His spine tingled a little. Just excitement. Or maybe the hockey gods were watching?

Far be it from him to disappoint them.

They won the first two games of Round 1. It felt really fucking good. It was definitely harder than a regular season game, everyone giving it their all. The speed, the rush of it all...it was amazing. Every goal seemed that much sweeter.

Game 3...was a loss. But it was so so close, going into overtime with them tied 3-3.

The next morning, Eric's jaw ached. He probably had just been clenching his teeth in frustration. They'd all played well, but sometimes the other team was just better. But there were at least two more games left in Round One. It wasn't over yet.

He brushed his teeth grumpily. They had the morning to rest, with practice in the afternoon, Game 4 the next day, and the flight back to Seattle after that.

He stretched and grimaced at his reflection, side tender where he'd been checked.

Oh.

OH.

Okay.

He poked his tongue at newly sharp eyeteeth. No wonder they all ached like new fillings.

Well.

Their captain had said things like this were almost common, in playoffs. Pointed teeth and ears, patches of fur or scales. Horns and armor sometimes, in the later rounds. He could live with pointy teeth.

He was just a rookie, though a pretty dang talented one if he said so himself (and so did Cricket, and Jack, and the Schooners GM). How much could really happen to him, anyway?

He spared a brief but delightful thought for how much Jack would squirm if he bit him now. It would leave a nice mark, he mused. Then shook his head. No time for nice daydreams, though. Now was playoffs, and they’d barely started. Hopefully.

Hopefully there would be many more games ahead, and if they were really good and really lucky, sixteen wins.

It was weird. This hockey monster thing...was the weirdest thing that had happened to him since...probably since he went to college and joined Samwell Men’s Hockey. With people like Shitty, Holster, and Johnson...yeah, the rest of the campus was right, the team was full of weirdos.

At the same time...it felt sorta good. He really was a hockey player, he’d earned his spot here and he belonged on the team.

The Schooners won Round One in five games.

Whatever magic it was that happened during playoffs, Eric was grateful for it. The last game was another tough win, and he knew, KNEW that any other time, playing like that would leave him near exhausted. But now, even after cellying like crazy out on the ice, waving their sticks like madmen, he just felt energized. Even if he crashed afterwards, they had a couple extra days to rest and practice before Round Two.

But right now, a few drinks to celebrate wouldn’t be amiss.

Thank you, hockey gods, he thought. God had bigger things to worry about, surely, than playoffs. All it said was no gods before Him right? This was just like...asking an angel or a patron saint for something. Yeah. Hockey was totally an earthly-type matter, the gods of playoffs had more time to devote to hockey players anyway. They needed all the help they could get.

Probably he should ask if there were names for them, he thought, a little tipsy. It would only be polite. So he could thank them. Maybe he could make them a pie? His teammates would be more than ready to eat it afterward.

The next morning saw him peering confusedly at mostly illegible drunken scribbles on his nice stationary. Apparently he’d ended up trying to write a thank you note to the hockey gods.

Wow they mixed their drinks strong at that bar.

The day after that, Eric blinked at eyes that had gone from warm brown to a molten amber.

He'd...he'd gotten plenty of ice time, that was all.

Everything was fine.

[zombizombi]

oh f u c k i got the ao3 update email 5min ago and god you really truly still Got it!! like wow its been like 2 years since i started reading HH but im still in love w ur eric and kent just the same as i was back then??

bjgfhnjkgfnhkgmjklgsh

oh my gosh, thank you so much. and thank you so much for sending me a message to tell me!!

i’m so glad that it’s still enjoyable. i cannot believe i have been writing it this long, what the heck. it’s wild to contemplate. it will, however, like the comic, end when bitty graduates

....... doesn’t mean YAG will though