#then almost immediately sprained it super badly

[schrodingersvibecheck]

I swear to fucking god if I broke my ankle I’m gonna be pissed

[jinmukangwrites]

Gifts

Read on AO3

Prompt

Summary: Wild tells of the gifts the past Champions have given him. All that's left is for the others to witness these gifts.

Warnings: Descriptions of injury, temporary character death.

Notes: Finally got a prompt done. Y'all proud of me? If you are, then know I wrote this instead of Chapter 2 of Succumb because I'm an awful creature who has a solid idea for the entire fic except Chapter 2 and I'm avoiding it. Stop being proud of me now.

---

“How about you, Champ?”

Wild blinks from the daze he's fallen into and looks up to see eight pairs of eyes all looking right at him. The moon hangs lazily above them, nothing more than a C-shape tied to the stars to watch them all talk themselves to sleep. Wild’s zoned out of this one, for reasons he can’t really explain why. It’s not that what they’re talking about tonight is particularly dull or offensive. It’s just… well… they’re talking about magic and discussing the common theme that seems most sources of magic that they know has been given to them.

Time and Great Fairies. Hyrule and wise men in caves. Wild’s sure the others all have similar stories, he’s just decided to not listen to them tonight.

“About me?” He asks hopefully. Maybe they have changed topics while he was trying to decide what the woodchip by his boot resembles.

Four leans forward on his knees, wiggling his eyebrows. “Any magical gifts that you’ve been holding out on us?”

Wild tries not to let his disappointment show on his face. “Ah.” He curls his fingers around the hem of his tunic before they could nervously knit with each other on his lap. “Nothing that’s important.”

Besides him, Twilight scoffs. “Nothing that’s important? Cub, either you really are holding out on us or you’re being humble.”

“Wild? Humble?” Warriors snorts. “Perish the thought.”

Wild sighs. “Really, I don’t have any cool stories to tell tonight. I’d much rather listen to you all.”

“Listen, huh?” Four challenges, grinning like an imp. “Who taught Hyrule how to shoot fire from his sword?”

Wild rolls his eyes. “Some old guy in a cave.”

“Actually,” Hyrule says with a soft, apologetic smile, “it was an old man in a basement.”

“What is up with you and old men?”

“Anyway,” Twilight says, giving Wild a hard look, “you’re obviously not listening. Is something wrong? You’re usually more talkative.”

Does Twilight have to be a doting old mother in front of everyone? Wild can feel himself bristling. “Maybe I just don’t feel like talking tonight. Vet isn’t talking and you’re not pestering him.”

“That’s because Vet never talks about himself,” Warriors says, foiling Wild’s entire argument. Legend has a smug look on his face. “Not unless he’s trying to heighten his own ego.” Legend’s smug look falls into a glare.

“Fine,” Legend says. “I’ll tell one. Then Champ can tell one, so that you all will get off both of our backs.”

“It has to be serious, Leg,” Wind butts in, completely oblivious to Wild’s dying hope of getting out of this conversation. “No ‘I got my magic from being super cooler than everyone else’ bull.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Legend snaps. “Besides, I don’t have magic. I have magical items. Which is just as useful.”

“Then what’s that one?” Sky points at the small clay ocarina in Legend’s hands. “You’ve been holding it all night.”

Legend stills and his face softens, and immediately the whole group can tell that whatever that ocarina is, Legend has feelings attached to it. He takes a deep breath. “It’s not very magic,” he says, his fingers rubbing over the holes reverently. “It used to be able to summon a gust of wind to take me wherever I needed to go. It could also awaken the dead under specific circumstances… now it’s nothing but clay. It doesn’t work anymore.”

“Where’d you get it?” Wind asked, and not unkindly. He, like the rest of the group, knows that Legend wouldn’t be holding an item so tenderly if it only didn’t work anymore.

Legend stays silent for a moment, allowing the crickets in the forests to sing uninterrupted. Then, his shoulders fall. “The most beautiful woman I ever met gave it to me. She had the most lovely voice. This… after… after I lost her, I woke up stranded at sea. It was around my neck on a string… it’s all the proof I have that she ever existed.”

Silence hangs over the group like a heavy blanket. Wild can’t help but feel a lob of guilt get stuck in his chest. All he can do is sit and watch Sky lean over and place a hand on Legend’s knee.

“Love is one of the most powerful magics an item can hold, even if it’s just a good memory.”

Legend brings a sleeve to his eye, holding the ocarina tightly with his other hand. “Oh shut it, you sap,” he says through a smile. Sky smiles back, and Wild curls his arms across his chest.

Besides him, Twilight looks at him. Not expectantly, though, but with understanding. Perhaps he knows now why sometimes someone would wish to stay silent during these kinds of nights. Not everyone got magical gifts from old men in caves. Or basements.

But the guilt sits, and no one is saying it’s Wild’s turn to spill some beans. Not even Legend. But how could he stay silent after Legend told something so personal and sad? It’s not fair, even if he’s the only one who thinks so.

He bites the arrow and takes a breath.

“I don’t have magic. I have… blessings. From friends I had before the Calamity.”

For the second time that night, eight pairs of eyes fall onto him.

“I don’t use them much anymore,” Wild continues; somehow his hands have made it to his lap anyways, knitting his fingers together like string on needles, “they gave me everything they had so I could defeat Calamity Ganon. Now that he’s gone, I don’t want to abuse their gifts any longer.”

“I don’t mean to pry…” Four says, “but maybe they gave you everything they had to help you. Maybe they didn’t consider it abuse.”

And somehow, Wild doesn’t feel like Four is prying at all. In fact, it startles a chuckle out of him. “Maybe. But not Revali, that’s for sure. He and I got along worse than Vet and Cap.”

“Not an easy feat,” Warriors says to the others while nudging Legend with his elbow. Legend rolls his eyes. “I’m impressed.”

“What blessing did he give you?” Wild asks. There’s stars in his eyes that always get there when he gets too interested in a story. Though, Wild supposes any story involving a rival-ship greater than their very own Legend and Warriors is something to be interested in.

“It was the power to call upon the gusts of wind he used to command with his powerful wings. He was a Rito, the best there ever was. He could fly into the air without having to jump off of ledges. The wind would carry him up itself, like it belonged to him.”

-o-o-o-o-

Agony is a poison pulsing through Hyrule’s leg. The fall had been great, and it’s a miracle Wild had been there to dive down and at least try to lesson the fall with his paraglider. The ground was weak in these desert-y canyons, and maybe Hyrule shouldn’t have gotten so close to the ledge to warrant his boot’s slipping, but at least Wild was there.

Hyrule’s ankle is broken, or at least badly sprained. Either way, it’s painful enough that he can’t even stand up as Wild paces the bottom of the crevasse they have found themselves in like a pair of cornered animals. The others… they’re close to an hour’s worth of time away. He and Wild were exploring and gathering whatever they could find that might be used as firewood as the sun began to set. It’s been a terribly awful day of traveling in the desert heat, and he and Wild were excited to experience the sunset’s breeze while the others set up camp.

They got too excited. Too far away. There’s no way anyone will hear them if they call. No one will come looking until the sky is black.

And who knows, maybe they won't consider that maybe they fell. Maybe, if they come looking, they won't look down the right scar in the land, and they will burn to death in tomorrow's sun.

“What do we do?” Hyrule asks through an embarrassingly choked voice. He’s been fighting tears since the moment his ankle bent wrongly in their crash landing. He knows Wild will not judge him for sobs, but it doesn’t make it any easier for him to allow any to escape.

Wild sighs and glares up at the lip of the cliff they’ve fallen from. “Any trinkets?” he asks back.

Hyrule bites his lip. He wishes he were like the others and had a trinket for every situation. Legend had promised to give him an old grappling hook he had hoarded away the next time they end up at his and Ravio’s place. “No.”

“Okay,” Wild says. Not angrily. “Okay.”

Determined?

“Champ?”

Wild takes a deep breath and looks down at Hyrule with… fire in his eyes. “I won’t be long. Will you be okay while I fetch the others?”

Hyrule licks his lips and looks down at his leg, already braced with brush twigs and the wrappings that usually decorate Wild’s arms. A cold breeze blows suddenly, making Hyrule shiver and remember the desert only takes what it’s given when it comes to heat. When the sun’s up, it thrives, and when it’s gone…

“Don’t take long,” he replies, even though he doesn’t really know what Wild’s about to do.

Wild nods, shrugging off the cloak he usually always wears and gives it to Hyrule. Hyrule nods his thanks and takes the warm accessory, placing it over his head and wrapping the caped section around his shoulders.

He watches as Wild walks towards the edge of the cliff facing where the others are with camp. Hyrule wonders what he’s about to do as he clings to the edge of the cloak. Wild unfolds his paraglider from his back, baffling Hyrule even more, and widens his stance.

A moment passes. Then another.

Then a gust of wind appears seemingly out from the floor, powerful enough to blow dust back and almost get in Hyrule’s eye if he hadn’t instinctively covered his eyes. There’s a flash of teal through his fingers… then an unfamiliar voice snorts.

“About time, runt.”

By the time Hyrule deems it safe enough to uncover his eyes without getting dust in them, Wild is already high in the air. The miracle gust of wind cyclones in the spot his friend used to be, growing weaker and weaker by the second before it’s gone completely. There’s no sign of whoever made that flash of teal… nor who spoke, but Hyrule doesn’t think too into it as Wild drops his paraglider and grabs onto the upper ledge of the cliff.

Far above him, Wild climbs to safety and looks over the edge. He waves, and Hyrule cannot help the giggle that climbs through his throat as he waves back.

Pain in his ankle be damned, whatever Wild just did was cool, and as Wild turns and runs towards the others he knows he won't be in pain for long.

Not much longer than an hour passes before the others come with their ropes and grappling hooks and worried voices. Wild glides down to him to help carry him up. There’s something about the way he stands that gives Hyrule the feeling that he… realized something today. He gives Hyrule a bottle of health, then helps tie a rope around his waist as his ankle begins to hurt a little less.

As he’s lifted off the ground towards the top of the cliff by his friends, he looks at Wild who is clinging tight to Hyrule’s body like a stronger lifeline than any rope or chain.

“Was that Revali?” He asks, without really thinking.

Wild looks at him with wide eyes, and then a wider smile. “Yeah.”

Hyrule smiles back. “He sounded like an asshole.”

A startled laugh bursts from Wild’s mouth as he throws his head back. “He is an asshole,” he agrees in good nature.

They reach the top. They reach the others. Twilight scolds their ears off the entire way back towards camp, and Hyrule can't stop grinning for his own safety… and for whatever mended in Wild’s heart tonight.

-o-o-o-o-

“What about the others?”

“Well… ah… there’s Daruk. He was one of my oldest friends. The strongest Goron there ever was, though he was a little fearful of dogs.” Wild laughs, as do the others politely; probably imagining the biggest Goron they could be scared of a small fluffy animal. “He had the strength to block anything, and he was always ready to take a blow for the team. Even after… even after… he still protected me. He gave me the ability to call upon even a fraction of that power, that way nothing could hurt me in case my own shield failed. Without him… I would not be here, I’m confident in that.”

-o-o-o-o-

They honestly should have expected an ambush before Warriors was the one to call it out. Four likes to consider himself lucky for coming from a comparatively peaceful time, relatively speaking, but even he should have expected the top of the hill to be lined with determined monsters with big rocks.

The first few moments of watching the boulders come down feels almost like Four is stuck in time. There’s nowhere to run, the expanse of the monsters at the top is too great. Left or right would bring more chances of being hit. They can’t run back down the hill and outrun the danger either. Their only option is to dodge through the rocks until they can get to the top and take out the danger.

Distantly, as time spreads up, Four is aware of Time and Wild each releasing arrows towards the top of the hill, igniting various monsters on fire, but soon it becomes pure chaos. He can only focus on himself as he does his best to jump out of the way of rocks that are much bigger than him. The colors in his brain scream as he tries to remain calm and collected. No Blue, he can’t just jump over the boulders because it will look cool. Red please calm down you’re screaming too loudly. He knows to go left, Green!

It’s a miracle he’s managed to last this long with the confusion. Which is why he’s not surprised when something finally hits its mark. He’s just glad that when the agony of a shattered bone shoots through his body, it’s only his right shoulder that took the brunt of the hit.

Not that he has time to be thankful for that. After the boulder hits into his side, his balance is knocked right out of him. He ends up crashing to the tilted floor in a jumble of limbs and dust. There’s tears in his eyes, and he can barely focus enough to lift himself back up. His entire arm feels like he’s stuck it into the mouth of a dragon—teeth and all. His chest feels tight and his hip all bruised. He wouldn’t be surprised if he’s broken a few ribs as well.

He barely has enough time to look ahead of him from where he lies on the ground. There’s another boulder bouncing right towards him. If… if he doesn’t move now… he will surely die.

But he cannot move. He cannot move because his entire side hurts too badly for him to go at a speed that matters. He closes his eyes and tries to make himself smaller. Maybe, if the goddess decides she likes him today, she will allow the boulder to bounce over him… or something as unlikely.

Either way, he accepts whatever fate he’s about to meet, even as he hears Sky scream his name.

And maybe it’s because he’s a coward and he’s scared, but he opens his eyes to look at his approaching doom. Only… that’s not all that he sees. What he sees is Wild jump out right in front of him with a ball of orange energy surrounding his entire body. A surge of horror swells inside of his belly the moment he sees this. Is Wild serious?!

Then, a heartbeat passes, and the boulder rams right into Wild. What happens next, though, Four would never have guessed. The orange energy explodes in shatters around him. Standing over Wild, however, is a ghostly Goron that’s bigger than anything Four’s ever seen. He shouts as the boulder stops in its tracks, crumbling before his mighty fists.

“I got you, little buddy,” Daruk’s spirit says. Then, the teal spirit disappears with the orange energy, leaving Wild standing there with the shattered remains of the boulder at his feet. Up the hill, Warriors, Legend, Time, and Sky take out the remaining monsters before they can release any more rocks.

Wild turns towards Four with a crazed, adrenaline fueled gaze. There’s a grin on his face though, one that Four finds himself matching.

Next thing he knows, Twilight, Hyrule, and Wild are rushing to his form and shoving various medicine bottles into his face; of which he takes gratefully.

“Thank you, Wild,” Four makes sure to say once he’s finally back on his feet with a makeshift sling over his only slightly aching arm. Wild turns towards him to give a blushing smile. He rubs the back of his neck with his hand.

“I couldn’t just watch you die. It’s the least I could do.”

Four hums. “I’m still thankful. Though… your Goron friend looked big enough to squish me between his fingers.”

Wild grins. “Daruk wouldn’t do that. It’s his hugs you have to watch out for.”

Four’s sure that if Daruk’s hugs are anything like Wild’s, then those hugs would be very tight indeed.

“I will take your word for it, then.”

-o-o-o-o-

“And then there’s Urbosa. She… if you think you’ve met a scary Gerudo, then you haven’t met her.” Wild waves his hands in the air, only slightly aware that he’s getting too invested in this story now. He didn't mean to spill his guts on his past friends tonight, but here he is, living their memory. Passing on their stories to his new friends. He finds he doesn’t mind it as much as he did several minutes ago. He doesn’t know why he was afraid. “She was the leader of her people, and she could summon lightning onto anyone who's ever defied her. She fought armies of Yiga all on her own and came out without a scratch. She’s blessed me with the ability to summon lighting as well. It’s my most powerful attack, and it’s saved my ass more times than I can count.”

-o-o-o-o-

This is bad. Very bad. Time can’t even properly express how bad this is.

An ambush of monsters? That’s manageable. He has confidence in himself and his companions to be able to handle a meager ambush. However, this? This is a whole army of monsters. Lizalfos, apparently, like to group up in camps when they’re not scrambling around in ancient dungeons and temples.

There’s enough to outnumber the heroes five-to-one. It’s not impossible to take them down if they had stuck to the outer edges of the camp and took a good portion of them out with long ranged attacks… however what happened was much less graceful. They walked into the forest, intending to make a camp for the night, just to wander right into a community of Lizalfos armed to the tails.

So now? They’re running; the monsters in an excited chase. Like Time said: This. Is. Bad.

“We lead them to the river,” Warriors suggests, ever thinking of solutions. “We can push them in and weaken their numbers.”

“I say we turn and fight!” Wind shouts. He looks too excited. He pulls a bomb out from his satchel and before Time can say anything, the boy turns around and throws it at their pursuers. There’s a blast, a few screeches, but nothing significant happens. The numbers are too great. Wind is pulling out another bomb.

“The river,” Time says, nodding at Warriors. Wind cheers as another explosion erupts. He leaves the boy to it. As long as he keeps up. “It’s the best bet.”

Time turns his head to tell the others about the makeshift plan, but before he can say a thing Wild looks him straight in the eye. “Have everyone get as far as you can away, I know what to do.”

“What?” Time asks, baffled.

Wild doesn’t explain. He just turns heel and runs the other way towards the enemy.

“Cub?!” Twilight shouts, turning around as well to grab his wayward protégé, but Time grabs his shoulder and keeps him running in the opposite direction. Twilight gives him a panicked look.

“I don’t know what he plans,” Time explains, “but he seems confident. Trust him.”

Twilight swallows and nods. Time shouts at the others to pick up the pace.

Behind him, the Lizalfos screech in delight, a sign they and Wild have now met face-to-face.

Whatever you’re about to do, wild one, do it now.

He doesn’t have to wait long. The smell of ozone becomes intoxicating all within a heartbeat. The hairs at the back of his neck rise as the sky goes impossibly dark for the time of dusk that it is. Then, light flashes all around him in thunderous claps. He can barely hear the sound of screaming monsters over the bolts. Time can’t help but stop in his tracks and turn, lifting a hand above his brow to see green lighting like he’s never seen before attacking the earth through the trees.

As soon as it begins, it ends, and the sky brightens with silence.

Time doesn’t waste time running forward. What he finds when he runs towards the small clearing Wild had met the monsters in is something he will never forget. Static energy seems to curl around his hand, raised into the air and on the end of a snap. Beside him stands a tall Gerudo woman, cloaked in a ghostly aura, her back towards the others and her hand on Wild’s shoulder in triumph and fierce protection. There’s nothing but black, charred corpses of monsters around them.

Time watches, as do the others, transfixed as Urbosa looks down at Wild and smirks.

“You should have called earlier, my desert flower.”

-o-o-o-o-

Everyone looks so transfixed, that Wild almost moves on without really thinking about it. Only… the words catch in his throat. He finishes telling of Urbosa, and just… freezes. His hands are back in his lap, wringing each other out.

He was so engrossed with his own stories that he’s forgotten that while he loves each of his past friends equally… not all are so easy to talk about.

The others must sense his inner struggle, as none of them call out his sudden silence. He knows that if he decided to stop now and not tell them of his last blessing… they would not argue. They must know this pause is similar to when Twilight stops talking about his adventure when he reaches the point where he meets a mysterious companion. Similar to when Time pauses in his magical tales of his childhood. Similar to when Sky looks off in the distance with his voice trailing off as he tells of special places in the sky.

It’s a pause of loss. A pause of something cherished. A pause of something that you fought so hard for, but will never come back.

A hand falls on top of his own. He recognizes the shape of Twilight’s calluses without having to look up at him. “You do not have to force yourself to continue,” he says.

Wild shakes his head. “I’m alright. I can continue…”

A beat of silence. Wild takes a breath.

“Last is… Mipha. Not only was she the most beautiful Zora I’ve ever met, but also the most beautiful soul. She… would always be there for me… whenever I got hurt. She could heal my wounds better than any potion. I…” his throat bobs, the words are no longer coming. “I cannot bring myself to tell of her gift. It’s too special. I pray I never have to use it again, nor must any of you witness it.”

-o-o-o-o-

Twilight didn’t know what to think when the attack had begun. It didn’t start with a shout. It didn’t start with the enemy running screaming out from the shadows of the trees with swords raised. It didn’t start like any kind of monster attack that Twilight had grown so used to.

It’s probably why they were unprepared for an attack by something smarter than monsters. Something that has no problem sitting quietly in the trees, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He’s heard that there’s a group of former Sheikah in Wild’s world who have it in for the hero’s life, he just never really expected to meet them.

That’s probably why the arrow met it’s mark too. They’ve all grown accustomed to the sloppy ambushes put together by monsters. It’s the only thing Twilight can think of to justify how none of them saw it coming until there was a thwip of a feathered arrow flying through the air… and landing with a thunk in Wild’s stomach.

Wild fell to the ground, and with a flash of cards and light appeared several Yiga Clan members. Nobody stopped to stare. It was pure rage from the heroes at that point, and as soon as it began the Clan members all put their hands together and retreated into seemingly thin air. It all ended about as soon as it began.

And the only thing he could think about now is Wild laying there on the ground in a growing pool of his own blood. The arrow still sticks out of his midsection, undoubtedly having hit something important judging by the trail of red going down the corners of his mouth.

Twilight is the first to run up to his side, but thanks to the quick thinking of Warriors, he’s not the first to offer a way of healing.

However, by the time the bottle of the red potion reaches his life stained lips… it’s too late. Twilight can only stare in horror as the light leaves Wild’s eyes.

The Yiga Clan… they’ve succeeded… and everyone knows it when Warriors falls backwards in defeat to sit on his heels, looking down at the full bottle of healing in his hands. Sky falls to his knees. Hyrule chokes a cry. Twilight's sure the rest of them are feeling their own reactions of grief, but he can no longer pay attention to anything but his own.

He’s… he’s failed. The one person he swore he would protect… pass on his ways… his stories… his teachings… it’s all for nothing. All it is now is a gaping hole in his heart. His cheeks are wet with tears that came too quickly.

Suddenly, something happens. There’s a flash of teal, and somewhere behind him someone gasps. Twilight can only watch with wide, tear-drowned eyes, as the teal swirls around into the glowing form of a beautiful Zora.

All eyes are on her, but hers are on Wild. There’s a fondness to her face that could be mistaken for sadness. Her hand brushes his cheek, and to Twilight's surprise Wild blinks and breathes in a soft breath. The hole in his stomach glows bright blue… and the arrow dissipates in shining bubbles.

“I will always heal you when you need me, my love.”

Then, she’s gone before anyone, including Wild, can respond.

Wild slowly raises himself to his elbows, blinking and smiling sheepishly like he’s never gotten even a scratch.

“I’m sorry you all had to-” he begins, but Twilight cuts him off by launching himself forward and wrapping the idiot in his arms. Mipha’s gift, the one he wouldn’t tell them about because it was too special, the one he never wanted them to witness…

He’s such an idiot.

“Shut up,” Twilight says through a tight breath. “Thank the spirits… just let me hold you.”

Wild doesn’t say anything, he just returns the embrace and the hold just as tightly.

Thank Hylia and all of the goddesses for this miracle. Wild clearly has friends that care so much about him that they would protect him fiercely even after their deaths. Twilight knows that from now on, he will spend his nights praying thankfulness to them. Wild is a formidable hero, one of the best in fact, yet Twilight can only imagine where he would be without these gifts. Imagining it makes his gut twist, however, so he squeezes his hold just once before letting go.

He smiles at the younger boy, and Wild smiles back, everything that needs to be said being translated there alone. You scared me. I’m sorry. Don’t apologize, just be more careful. No promises… but I will try.

The wordless conversation passes between them in a moment, and the moment is broken by Wind pouncing onto Wild. Wild, the poor boy, is shoved straight onto his back from the force of the tackle, yet he’s laughing as Wind calls him an idiot over and over. Everyone else gathers as well, to tell him they’re glad he’s alive in their own ways. Time places a hand on Twilight’s shoulder and shares a knowing look.

“Let’s set up camp early tonight,” he says, and Twilight cannot help but agree.

As Time announces the plan to the others, separating the others and telling them to give Wild some space, Twilight lets his heart calm. Wild always says he was alone in his adventures, but now he knows that that wasn’t all true. He also knows now why Wild doesn’t abuse the abilities his friends gave him.

With a silent vow, he promises Revali, Daruk, Urbosa, and Mipha that he will work harder to protect their boy. For now, Wild has been barred from making dinner tonight, and Twilight has to be sure that Hyrule gets nowhere near the cooking pot.

[ridiasfangirlings]

Rescuing Fushimi, Yata breaks his leg and is forced to leave the skateboard for a couple of months. Yata and Fushimi reaction to this fact? Before the first season, after the first season, and after the second season when they started dating and living together.

Before the first season, I’m thinking Homra days for this? Imagine Yata breaks his leg on a mission, maybe it’s not like a terrible break (or even just a sprain) where it’s not so much that he can’t walk but he can’t skateboard because there’s too much instability and the worry that he could hurt himself really badly if he were to fall. Imagine this happens when he’s on a mission with Fushimi, like Yata’s fighting some gang member guys while on his skateboard and Fushimi is covering his back. Fushimi almost gets surprise attacked and while he’s taking these new guys down someone manages to knock Yata off his skateboard. Yata cries out in pain and Fushimi is immediately there and stabbing, probably already with a running monologue of guilt in his head that he let someone touch Misaki. Fushimi takes down the rest of the guys and then goes to Yata, Yata says he’s fine but then he can’t even stand upright on his skateboard and Fushimi has to carry both of them back to Homra.

Kusanagi looks Yata over and wraps his leg, telling him to be careful with it for now and no skateboarding for at least a month. Yata’s super upset because he relies on his skateboard for extra speed, complaining to Fushimi the whole way back to the apartment. He’s probably upset that he’ll be less helpful to Mikoto too and that really irks Fushimi, who calls Yata an idiot and is like if you want to break your legs go ahead. Fushimi’s in a super bad mood because he feels like this is his fault and he keeps complaining about how useless Yata is but imagine him quietly supporting Yata regardless, like he attempts to make dinner so Yata doesn’t have to stand for so long and Yata starts to notice that every time he feels tired Saruhiko somehow just manages to always be right there to lean on (also imagine Fushimi asking Kusanagi if Kusanagi can teach him to drive, Kusanagi says he’s too young but then relents and offers to give Fushimi some small lessons in like a parking lot so Fushimi can get a license once he’s old enough and then he can drive Yata around, Fushimi clicks his tongue and denies that’s why he’s asking).

Post-S1 I feel like this would just make Yata even more depressed, he’s already down and now he can’t even really move very well on his own. He’d probably hole up in Bar Homra and sleep half the day, feeling stupid and down on himself because his leg hurts and he wants to skateboard but he can’t. Imagine no one knows about this either, like Kamamoto and Anna are busy with something at Kamamoto’s place and Kamamoto hasn’t had the chance to check on Yata lately and of course none of the other Homra guys are really aware of what’s going on. One person knows though — when Yata fell one of the S4 alphabet was nearby and they mention it to Fushimi in passing, that yeah I saw Homra’s Yatagarasu fall off his skateboard the other day and he looked like he really hurt himself. Fushimi’s all why are you telling me but then of course the next time he’s out he takes a detour near Bar Homra.

Fushimi sees Yata hobbling around the bar, maybe Yata hasn’t gone out to get food in a while either and he’s like digging around under the counter for something to eat and complaining because his leg hurts so much. He finally throws himself back down on the couch with a sigh, Fushimi clicks his tongue quietly and walks away down the street. Some time later Yata hears a knock on the door, he says they’re closed and there’s another louder knock. Yata sighs and drags himself to his feet, limping to the door as he’s like I said the bar is closed. On the stoop in front of him is a grocery bag filled with food and drinks, Yata looks around like wait who delivered this. He doesn’t see anyone but figures it must be for him, taking the bag inside and wondering if it was Kamamoto or one of the Homra guys. Meanwhile Fushimi watches from a distance until Yata takes the food, telling himself this is just because he can’t fight Yata properly if Yata starves to death.

Post-ROK imagine Yata trying to be brave about this, telling Fushimi that he’s fine it’s just a sprain, the skate shop will let him work register for a few weeks until it heals. Fushimi calls Yata an idiot for not paying attention to where he was going and Yata’s like yeah well you should see the trick I almost pulled off. Fushimi notes that Yata can’t skateboard for at least a month and Yata sighs like yeah well it’s okay, I guess I’ll just take a lot of cabs and stuff. Fushimi clicks his tongue and is like “…drive.” Yata’s all huh and Fushimi mumbles that if Yata needs to go anywhere. Fushimi can drive him, and if Yata gets into a fight he should just stay by Fushimi’s side and Fushimi can take care of him. Yata listens to all this with his face getting progressively redder, Fushimi glances back at him with an equally red face and Yata gives him this huge grin like I guess it’ll be pretty cool getting driven to work by my boyfriend.

[themetaphorgirl]

I wrote this drabble earlier about Spencer spraining his ankle while Emily was supposed to be in charge

so here’s part 2!!!

once again. it’s a lot longer than I planned. I hope you like it though!!

(more about the boarding school babes)

----------

Spencer wrapped his arms tighter around Hotch’s neck and rested his chin on his shoulder. It was a long haul to get up to the seventh floor, and even though he was still attempting to prove to the older kids that he wasn’t a baby, he was grateful that he didn’t have to walk it. And if he was being truthful, he was glad that Hotch was carrying him instead of Emily. He loved Emily, he did, but Hotch was a lot stronger and bigger, and a lot less likely to drop him.

“Listen, Hotch, it was just an accident,” Emily pleaded, trailing behind them on the stairs.

Hotch pressed his hand against Spencer’s narrow back. “I don’t care if it was an accident, Prentiss, it was stupid,” he said sharply. “Stupid and childish. You’re seven years older than him, you should fucking know better.”

He couldn’t quite see Emily’s expression, but she slowed her pace, falling far back behind them. “Hotch, she didn’t do it on purpose,” he said quietly. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have done it.”

“We’ll talk about you later,” Hotch said. Spencer bit back a sigh. 

Alex was pacing in the seventh floor common room, her arms folded over her chest, still wearing the nice blue dress she’d worn for the senior’s seminar. “Oh my god,” she said, her arms dropping to her sides. “Spencer, are you okay?”

“It could be worse,” he offered. 

“That’s not reassuring.”

Hotch set him gently down on the couch, careful around his injured ankle. “It’s a bad sprain, but it’s not broken,” he said. 

“He hit the ground so hard,” Derek said. 

“Yeah, I definitely heard a crack,” Penelope added.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” Alex said. “How bad does it hurt?”

He shrugged. “Not too much,” he said, offering her what he hoped was a winning smile.

Her eyes narrowed. “Really?”

“Uh-huh,” he said.

Alex made a face at him and started signing instead. Are you lying to me? 

He squirmed and signed back a no.

Be honest, she signed. How bad?

Spencer sighed heavily. An eight, maybe?

His ankle really did hurt, the numbness from adrenaline long worn off, but he didn’t want to say anything that might make Emily feel bad. But he’d learned the hard way that it was impossible to lie to Alex; she was the only one who could see right through him every time.

Alex’s expression softened. “I’m sure you’ll feel better soon,” she said, smoothing his hair back. “But you have to rest, okay? Actually rest. No getting up and walking around and saying you’re fine when you’re not.”

Hotch tossed Spencer’s favorite blanket at him. “What she said,” he said. “You’re not moving until classes on Monday morning. And even then, if you’re not doing better, you’re not going to class.”

“But I have a history paper due Monday!” he protested.

“I’ll stop by your class and turn it in for you,” JJ offered.

“See? There you go,” Derek said. “And we’ll pick up all your homework for you.”

“I’ll be able to go to classes on Monday, I know it,” he said.

“Rest first, then we’ll see,” she said. “Don’t pout.”

“I’m not pouting,” he said, his lower lip dropping. 

Hotch tapped his chin. “Stop that,” he said. He propped his injured ankle up on a pillow and draped an ice pack over it. “These are the consequences of your reckless actions. Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes,” he grumbled. 

“It wasn’t his fault, I...I kept teasing him,” Emily said. 

Alex didn’t answer her. “Did they give you ibuprofen or anything at the infirmary?” she asked. 

“Yeah, and I can take more in a couple of hours,” he said. 

Penelope leaned over the back of the couch. “It’s my turn to pick for movie night, but do you want to pick, Spencer?” she asked. 

“No, don’t let him pick again!” Derek said. “I am not in the mood for Star Wars.”

“I don’t always pick Star Wars!” Spencer said. “Besides, there’s eleven films and a holiday special to choose from. That’s a lot of variety, right? More if you include the two Ewok films.”

“Spencer, don’t you dare make us watch the holiday special again.”

“Fine,” he said. “I want to watch Singin’ in the Rain.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I thought if Penelope wasn’t gonna pick, I wouldn’t have to watch a musical,” he said. JJ smacked his arm. “Hey!”

“All right, all right, cut it out,” Hotch said. “Who’s getting snacks tonight?”

“I’ll order pizza,” Emily offered. “It’s been a while since we’ve done that.”

Derek pumped his fists in the air. “Yes! Okay, I have some requests,” he said.

The other kids immediately started squabbling about pizza toppings. Spencer reached out and tugged lightly on Alex’s skirt. She turned around in confusion before looking down at him. “What’s wrong, Spence?” she asked. 

“Can you sit with me?” he asked quietly.

She blinked, a little puzzled. “Of course I can,” she said. She tilted her head to the side. “Are you all right? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No, I’m okay, I just…” He gave up midsentence and shrugged. He wasn’t sure how to put it into words. But Alex seemed to understand. She sat down on the couch beside him and he leaned against her shoulder, huddling under her arm. 

“Okay, you guys, enough! Stop fighting!” Hotch said. He picked up JJ around her waist and forcibly moved her away from Derek and Penelope. “We’re going to get what we usually get. Derek, if you really want that abomination of a pizza that badly, you can pay Emily back for it yourself.”

“No, it’s fine, you guys get whatever you want,” Emily said. 

“Well, in that case, I-”

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose. “Somebody just put in the movie, okay?” he said.

“I got it, I got it,” JJ said.

Spencer shifted around, trying to get comfortable as she started the movie. Even without an eidetic memory, he could probably recite the whole thing backwards and forwards. It was one of the movies his mother had on constant rotation when he was little, background noise while she graded papers- so, overall, mostly good memories. 

By the time pizza got there he was actually hungry- unlike lunchtime, when he was so focused on keeping his hurt ankle a secret that he couldn’t possibly eat. JJ brought him his plate, and Hotch took off the mostly-melted icepacks to check if the swelling had gone down at all (t hadn’t, and purple bruising had crept above the line of the bandages) and gave him more ibuprofen and a glass of water with strict instructions to drink all of it.

When the first movie was over, he let Penelope choose the second one, which turned into another squabble, but eventually she picked something else. He watched quietly, still leaning against Alex. Every so often he flexed his left foot, trying to see how much effort it took to move his ankle. 

Alex tapped his knee. “Stop that,” she chided gently. 

“I’m just testing it,” he said.

“You’re not a science experiment. Stop trying to see how much it hurts.”

“I’m okay.”

She lifted him onto her lap. “Nope, no more,” she said. “Sit still.”

“I’m not a baby,” he protested as he tucked his cheek against her shoulder. 

Alex wrapped her arms around him. “I know you’re not a baby,” she said. “Now what did I say about resting?”

Spencer obeyed, curling up against her and hugging his blanket to his chest. He had gone a long, long time without anyone willing or able to take care of him- or allowing anyone to take care of him, for that matter. It was kind of nice to have his friends fuss over him. And Alex cuddled him without making a big fuss about it, or making him feel stupid or childish. 

He was almost asleep by the time the second movie finished, his breathing deep and slow and his head resting heavily on Alex’s shoulder. But he was still awake enough to hear Hotch whisper-scold the other kids as he switched off the TV, telling them it was late and they needed to go to bed but they better not wake Spencer.

“Emily, wait here for a second,” Alex called softly. 

Spencer kept feigning sleep as the other kids filed out of the common room and Emily sat down heavily on the other end of the couch. “All right, Miller,” she said. “Go ahead. Tear me a new one. This is all my fault.”

“No, I’m not going to tear you a new one,” Alex said. “You’ve been beating yourself up all day already, I’m not going to make it worse.”

“God, can you just not be so perceptive for once?” Emily said. “Just yell at me and get it over with.”

“I’m not going to yell. I don’t want to startle Spencer,” Alex said. Emily snorted. “And besides, I don’t want to yell at you.”

Emily groaned. “I deserve to be yelled at,” she said glumly. “Hotch is right, I should have known better.”

“I mean...yeah, technically,” Alex said. She ran her hand lightly up and down Spencer’s back. “But...okay. This is going to be kind of blunt. When have you ever had someone to be responsible for? Somebody to care about?”

Emily was quiet for a moment. “Well, I mean...my mom…”

“Emily. I’ve heard you talk about your mom. You call her the Ambassador. She enrolled you in first year French because she didn’t remember you were fluent. She makes you call her every Sunday, but half the time it goes to voicemail because she’s busy.”

A longer silence. “All right, so my mom isn’t the best,” Emily said. “What does that have to do with me being an idiot and getting Spencer hurt?”

“My point is that you’ve never had to worry about anybody but yourself before,” Alex said. “You’re a good person, Emily, you’re a really good person. And I know you care a whole lot about all of us. You’ve just never had to learn how to take care of anybody.”

“Okay, now you’ve passed regular perceptive and into super perceptive,” Emily said, but Spencer could hear the hint of a smile in her voice. “Yeah, I guess...I guess you’re not wrong. I hadn’t thought about that before.”

“You’re getting there, though,” Alex said. “I mean, you were the one who took care of Spencer when he got hurt, before you could hand him off to us.”

“That’s true.”

“And in the meantime, you don’t have to be so tough and pretend like you don’t care about anything. You don’t have to act like nothing bothers you.”

“Nothing does bother me, Alexandra, what are you talking about?” Emily teased. Alex poked her in the side. “All right, all right, fine. Jesus. I guess you’re right, at least about some of that.” 

“I’m right sometimes, about some things,” Alex laughed. “And besides, let’s be real. All of these kids are kind of a handful. Especially this kid. This could have happened with any of us in charge.”

“I haven’t spent any time with a ten-year-old before Spencer,” Emily said. “So they’re not all like this?”

“Oh, god, no,” Alex said. She reached over and squeezed Emily’s arm. “Really, Em, I know you didn’t mean for him to get hurt. And he knows too. If he wasn’t pretending to be asleep, he’d tell you that too.”

“He’s faking? How can you tell?”

“He’s not snoring.”

Spencer opened one eye. “I wasn’t faking,” he protested, struggling to sit up. “I was sleeping. And I don’t snore.”

“No, yeah, you kind of do,” Emily said. “Cute little kitten snores.” He rolled his eyes, but she took his hand in both of hers. “Can you please tell me you’re not mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you, I promise,” he said. “A mild sprain can heal in one to three weeks. Maybe six weeks for a moderate sprain. I’ll live.”

She squeezed his hand. “Okay, cool, can you tell that to Hotchner?” she said. “I don’t think he’s quite so willing to forgive me.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Alex promised. “He might hold a grudge, but I’ll get over it, I promise.”

Suddenly Emily leaned over and pulled Spencer into a hug. “You know I love you, right, babe?” she said.

“I know,” he said, startled. The hug was definitely a little too tight, but he had the sneaking suspicion that, just like him, she wasn’t used to having people care. “I love you, Em.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “Just wanted to make sure,” she said, letting go and pulling back from him. “It’s late, you probably need to go to bed.”

“I’m not tired,” he said.

“Yes, you are,” Alex said. “Come on, let’s go.”

It was slow going for him to hobble to his room and change into his pajamas, and by the time he was done he actually was kind of tired. Hotch stuck his head in his room as Alex was helping him climb into bed. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Spencer huffed as he fell back against his pillow.

“How’s your ankle?”

“Also fine,” Spencer said. Hotch didn’t seem convinced. “I’ll stay off it all day tomorrow, I promise.”

“Yeah, you’d better,” Hotch said. “Goodnight, kid.”

“Hey, Hotch?” he called, and Hotch doubled back and leaned in the doorway. “Can you be nice to Emily, please? She already feels bad about everything. She didn’t mean it.”

“I make no promises,” Hotch said. “But...I’ll try. Goodnight, Spencer. Get some sleep.”

“You think he’ll actually be nice to Emily?” Spencer asked.

“We’ll see,” Alex said. “Lie down.”

He obeyed. “Goodnight, Alex,” he said as she tucked him in snugly.

She swept his hair back and kissed his forehead. “Goodnight, darling,” she said. “Sleep tight.”

He snuggled under the covers. His ankle didn’t hurt as sharply as it did earlier, and his favorite blanket was soft and reassuring against his cheek. Alex switched on his little nightlight, and he was asleep before she closed the door.

[seiin-translations]

2.43 S1 Chapter 1.8 - Young Yunichika

8. CONTINUE GAME?

Translation Notes

1. This is just for clarification but Yuni’s just calling this old man “grandpa” as an endearment

Previous || Index || Next

“My my, I see, Itoko-chan…Okay, take care. Ah, Yuni? It’s already time to go? Make sure you don’t forget anything. Today—”

While his mother was on the phone with someone, he run out of the house without saying goodbye and straddled his bike with a force almost like that of a fugitive.

What was she going to say after ‘today’? “Today, do your best as well?” “Today, I’ll go cheer you on as well?” I don’t want to hear either of those sentences.

July 27. Today was the second day of the tournament where four matches, consisting of two semifinals, the playoffs for third place and the finals, would be taking place. The first semifinal match started at nine-thirty. They planned to gather at Monshiro Station and go to Suzumu City together by train to arrive at the venue.

He stood on his bike as he pedaled on the road to the station. However, the further he got away from home, the more his pedaling speed slowed, and he started to wobble left and right before finally zigzagging uselessly across the full width of the road.

A horn sounded. When he looked back, he saw a small tractor approaching from behind.

“Oh, if it isn’t Bon. Be careful!”

An old man wearing a straw hat over the scarf that covered his head stared closely at him with sullen eyes from the driver’s seat and said in a slow, hoarse voice.

“Sorry, grandpa!” (1)

He brought his bike close to the guardrail and the tractor overtook him at a sluggish speed. The paint on the guardrail had mostly peeled off and some spots were obviously bent, as the elderly scraped against them in their agricultural vehicles. It made one nervous about whether or not they were starting to lose their driving skills.

The road that continued straight ahead was surrounded by, as far as the eye could see, paddy fields, paddy fields, paddy fields. The verdant sea of rice swayed in the summer breeze.

How about I ride my bike straight into a paddy and twist my ankle? An injury or something where I can’t walk today because it hurts too bad but it’s completely healed tomorrow, where it’s just the right amount and not exaggerated…He was in such a negative mood that thoughts like those passed through his mind. He quite honestly wished that he could be barred from the game for some unavoidable reason rather than possibly showing such unsightly behavior like yesterday.

Because…if we have Haijima, then we can probably win anyways even if you stand scarecrows in the other positions.

He didn’t speak a word to Haijima after the match yesterday. Other than the advisor, none of the team members attempted to approach Haijima, only glancing at him like they were looking at a grotesque thing disguised as a person. He could see a clear gulf emerging between Haijima and themselves. The differences in their experience and ability as well as their language existed from the beginning, but usually they were hidden like gutters buried in the snow. As soon as they got on top of one by some momentum and put their weight on it, they lost balance and were reminded of its existence along with the pain.

I don’t feel like I can be in a match with him today. I don’t wanna go…That was all he could think about as he meandered around on his bike again. He even felt a slight stomach ache. I haven’t had something I wanted to avoid so badly it made my stomach hurt since early elementary school. Better yet, if I end up having appendicitis, then it’ll be that “unavoidable reason” thing…

Seeing a motorcycle approach from ahead, he let out a “Hmm?” and stopped zigzagging around. The motorcycle seemed to have noticed him as well, and it decelerated to a stop. Kuroba also stopped his bike and put his foot on the ground.

“Oh, it’s been a while since I’ve seen your face.”

It was Yorimichi, looking like a textbook example of a summertime delinquent with his helmet with worn-out paint, Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. In the summer of his third-year of high school, he had completely developed the presence that came with age and experience. With his tanned face, perhaps from going to the sea, and stubble, he didn’t look like a high schooler no matter how you look at it.

“Yori-chan…”

Not knowing what attitude to take, he had a hopelessly half-hearted look on his face. They barely talked since March, and it had been about a month since he saw his face.

“You’re not tanned at all, eh. Ain’t it summer vacation?”

“Ah, yeah, all I’ve been doing is practicing in the gym, so I’ve got no time to tan.”

“Volleyball’s a pasty sport, eh. Oh, I thought you had a game today. Mm? Didn’t they say it was yesterday?”

“The game was, uh, yesterday, but…Anyways, why are you coming from the station?” The fact that he came from the opposite direction of his house was questionable, but it was also unusual for Yorimichi to be active this early in the morning.

“I’ve been staying at a friend’s place, but I got called back in the morning. They said Itoko got hurt yesterday?”

“Huh…I didn’t hear anything about that? You’re kidding, right? She came to cheer us on yesterday too…”

Come to think of it, didn’t his mother mention Itoko’s name on the phone earlier? He didn’t pay attention to it at the time because he wanted to get out of the house before anyone said anything, but was that a call with Itoko’s mother?

“How did she get hurt? Is it bad?”

“Didn’t hear the details, but apparently they didn’t call the ambulance, so it probably wasn’t a big deal. You can come over if you’re worried? Oh, don’t you have practice now?”

“Huh? Aah…”

Making a vague reply, he looked at the enamel bag on his back. He could have said, “We won yesterday, so we have another game today,” but he was at a loss for an answer for some reason.

“What’s wrong? If you’re coming, it’s faster to leave your bike and ride on this.”

Yorimichi gestured to the tandem seat of Komashi-gou with his chin.

He promised to Haijima before spring break that he would refrain from hanging out with Yorimichi.

Riding tandem on a motorcycle would be out of the question for him. It’ll be a problem for the team if we got into an accident—

The bubbles of antagonism floated up from the bog that had accumulated in the bottom of his heart.

In the end, he’s playing volleyball for himself alone. Why do I need to faithfully keep a promise with someone like that?

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Yesterday morning, when she was riding her bike to the station, triumphantly holding up that “Spread your wings! Kuroba UNIVERSE!” flag that she had spent all night completing, the flag got caught in the wind and she lost her balance. Of course it would be dangerous to pedal your bike with something like that fluttering around. There was a fool who had already fell yesterday just when Kuroba was thinking “I wanna get stuck in a rice paddy and twist my ankle.” At night, the swelling had gotten worse, and his aunt panicked so much that she called Yorimichi home, but as it turned out, it was just a sprain.

There were literal twists and turns before they heard that whole story.  Because when they went to Yorimichi’s house, they found a note that said, “I’m going to the clinic,” so they immediately rode there on the motorcycle, and when they got to the clinic, they were told that she must be at the orthopedic clinic because she hadn’t come there, and when they went to the orthopedic clinic, they were told that she had just left, so they ended up going back home again and was able to meet up with Itoko and the others. They had pointlessly gone around town.

Itoko was sitting on the tatami chair in the first floor living room, stretching out her bandaged right foot out on the tatami. In the alcove behind her, the “Spread your wings! Kuroba UNIVERSE!” was displayed like a scroll of appreciation. Kuroba’s face stiffened, and he started to take down the flag.

“Ah, what are you doing to my hard work!”

“Are you dumb? If you hadn’t spent your time on this and came to the first round, you wouldn’t have fell, and the game would have been more fun.”

“You’re talking like the second round wasn’t fun.”

“Well, that’s, you know…”

He trailed off weakly and averted his gaze. The phone in the hallway started ringing. “Onii-chan, get the phone!” His aunt’s voice came from the kitchen. A door on the second floor slammed open, and then Yorimichi’s rough footsteps descended. “Don’t push me around, old hag. Going crazy and calling me back just for an ankle sprain.” “It’s your fault for wandering around right after summer vacation and not coming home at all.” In this house, the mother who called the oldest son “Onii-chan” and the little sister called him “Yorimichi” without any honorifics.

He sat in seiza on the edge of the tatami, crammed the flag behind his butt, and clenched his fists on top of his lap.

“…Was it fun? Watching it.”

This was the first time he was asking someone about their thoughts on yesterday’s game. He didn’t want to be talked about at home, so he avoided as much contact with his family as possible last night and this morning.

“You want to talk about Haijima, don’t you, Yuni. I don’t know anything about volleyball, but that kid looked really out of place yesterday. I was having a little trouble cheering you guys on.”

“Right? There’s something wrong with that guy, don’t you think? Volleyball’s something you play with a team. I know he’s super good, but he’s fatally bad at reading the room.”

Feeling as though he got what he wanted, Kuroba subconsciously gathered strength and put his weight on his knees. However, Itoko, with a somewhat indifferent look on her face, tilted her head to the side.

“Read the room, huh… How did you want him to read it? Did you want him to cut corners to suit you guys’ level, then lose the game and laugh like idiots together about what a shame it was?”

“It’s, it’s not like that…”

The Haijima who cut corners to match the level of others as well as the Haijima who laughed like an idiot when they lost were both creatures who he found creepy and didn’t want approaching him in their own right. That’s not what I meant, but there are probably other ways to do it…What other ways? Did I think it was natural for Haijima to come up with something I couldn’t think of? Honestly, was there anything else Haijima, who only has talent in volleyball, could have done in that situation…?

“That’s a girl thing.”

“What?”

He darted her eyes about and asked back. Maybe her foot was aching or something, because Itoko bent forward and languidly rubbed her ankle.

“Girls usually do things like matching to everyone’s pace so they won’t stand out, or being modest by saying they have no confidence in themselves for things they actually are confident in. I do it too. But boys don’t play those kinds of superficial games, it’s just, like, instinct I guess? …I thought you could understand each other, but I guess that was just my own ideals... Yuni, when you’re doing club activities, you look like you’re having so much fun, and I was admiring you guys by myself and getting so excited, thinking that boys are so incredible, and I was so enthusiastic that I even made that flag, but now I’m so embarrassed I wanna die… Thank goodness it’s summer vacation… I wouldn’t be able to go to school…”

Her face, which was turned downwards like she wanted to sink into her knees, was bright red.

If only he had done a good enough job at yesterday’s second round that would let Itoko proudly fly her flag and freely cheer them on, she would not be so embarrassed like she was now. He felt sorry and had no words words to say to her. It wasn’t Haijima’s fault that the atmosphere of the match went off the rails. He was painfully aware that it was his own pathetic predicament that caused Haijima to play like that.

“Hmm? Why do you guys look so down? Something happen?”

Yorimichi’s large frame appeared at the entrance to the living room. If he wasn’t careful, he’d scrape his head against the lintel, so he bent down slightly while holding up the phone handset.

“It’s getting pretty funny. All our relatives cleaning out the ditch right now. Our family phone tree is working pretty well.”

“Cleaning out the ditch? Did something fall in?”

“Yeah, apparently the Bon of the head house fell in,” he said while grinning like a brat who had just thought of a prank. Itoko cheekily pointed at a stunned Kuroba and said, “You’ve been sleep talking since morning. If you want the head house’s Bon, he’s right here.” She was thoroughly cruel to Yorimichi, a complete change from her meek and gentle attitude.

“You abandoned your bike at the paddy fields.”

“I left it…but I didn’t let it fall into the fields. How old do you think I am?” It was a path that only acquaintances took anyways, so there was no chance of a bike thief. And so he left his bike on the roadside where he met Yorimichi, thinking he could go and get it later.

“Your club advisor called you at home. You have a match today? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“…Ah.”

The stories finally connected. Even though he had left home a long time ago, he didn’t show up at the meeting place, his bike was abandoned on the way there, the only witness was his senile but worried relative, and there was nothing but rice paddies around… Though because he wasn’t a kindergartener by any count, they must have thought it was weird for a third year middle school boy to get caught in them.

Looking at the clock on the wall, it was past nine-twenty-five. The match started at—nine-thirty.

“Yuni…”

Itoko’s voice lowered. Her anger-filled gaze stung the side of his face.

“I can’t believe this, but are you skipping your match? No wonder you’re so relaxed…I can’t believe this. You’re the worst.”

Kuroba could only groan. He didn’t fall into a rice paddy or had appendicitis, but luckily, if he didn’t feel like he had an “unavoidable reason,” now he did.

“Please go immediately.”

“You, you say that, but it’s not like I’ll make it in time since it’s in five minutes, and since Haijima’s there…”

Itoko stood up indignantly, startling both him and Yorimichi. “O-oi, your foot.” Without even trying to protect her sprained ankle, she grabbed Kuroba’s bag and lifted it over her head with the look of a demon.

“Men are always making all kinds of excuses…”

“Oi?”

Yorimichi ducked just in time as a bag flew over his head into the hallway.

***

When he approached the spot where he left his bike, he saw minitrucks parked parallel to the shoulder of the road. His relatives, with rakes and sticks in their hands, were standing in the rice paddies, scratching around in the mud with desperate looks on their faces. The mood there was like they had decided that the Bon of the head house was going to rise up as a drowned body. In the shadow of Yorimichi’s back, Kuroba pulled his helmet low over his eyes and shrank his body.

Thanks to the group of trucks forming a shield, they could pass by without being noticed. Right when he breathed a sigh of relief, the Komashi-gou slowed down and his nose bumped into Yorimichi’s back.

“Yo-Yori-chan?”

With Kuroba clinging to his back, Yorimichi turned around and, unbelievably, shouted loudly.

“Everyone, I’m taking Bon’s bike back to the main house!”

“Eh…oh, Bon! You’re okay!”

“What!?”

Their relatives all raised their faces in astonishment. Yorimichi laughed at them mockingly and started taking off at full throttle. Kuroba, who almost got thrown off, clung to Yorimichi’s torso, but didn’t feel like he was alive anyhow.

“W-w-what will we do if they get mad at us!? W-what will happen to me if I go home today…?”

I’m not in a position to complain because I brought it all onto myself with my actions, but…I wanna leave home and escape somewhere…

The Komashi-gou could bring him all the way to the competition venue, but he was just about to catch the train to the city, so he decided to get dropped off at the station. He wasn’t sure if he could make it to the venue at ten-thirty. It had been one hour since the start time for the semifinals—if it got carried over into a third set, then he might be able to make it just in time, but they probably wouldn’t let him get out there without warming up. If they won, they would be in the finals, and even if they lost, there was still a chance he could play in the third-place deciders. I’ll probably have to kneel down on the ground at least. Apologizing to Sensei, and everyone on the team, and Haijima…is aggravating, but…

“…Hey, Yori-chan…do you remember talking about how the guys from Haijima’s old school were bashing him online?”

He asked as his face got hit by Yorimichi’s Hawaiian shirt that was filling with the wind.

“Hmm? Yeah.”

He could hear the indifferent response from between the noisy clattering and thumping sounds that hit his ears. Even Yorimichi himself, who had used that information to rile up Haijima, scorned it as a petty way to do things. Would I be hated if I confessed…? But the feeling of a foreign object being stuck in his throat was agonizing, and he couldn’t help but spit it out.

“I did the same thing last night…”

Last night, he had phone conversations with several of his teammates. Some calls came from them and some came from himself. “That definitely puts me off.” “It feels like you’re playing the match alone when he does that.” There was something comforting about complaining to each other in that way. He felt comforted in being able to confirm that it wasn’t that he was the only one who was intolerant or narrow-minded, and that everyone felt the same. Perhaps the same group psychology that was at work in the people who posted bad things about Haijima online was at the root of it. When everyone shared their frustrations, it made them feel a little better.

It would make Itoko disappointed, but—the invigorating community of men who could “understand each other like it was natural instinct” that she admired only existed in sports manga or battle manga.

The wind was so loud that he didn’t know if Yorimichi responded or not. Maybe he was trying to make himself feel better by thinking that he had repented by telling Yorimichi. That made him feel even more cowardly, and Kuroba couldn’t say it a second time.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

When Kuroba came running at ten-twenty-five, the semifinals were over a long time ago. He couldn’t believe it when he heard that they lost the match in straight sets in less than forty minutes of match time.

“But we have Haijima! Like yesterday…”

“Are you an idiot?” His advisor flatly brushed him aside. “It’s true that we’re a team based around Haijima, but it’s not like we can win with him alone. There’s a rule in volleyball that one person can’t touch the ball twice in a row, right? Don’t you know that? Want me to lend you the rulebook?”

Kuroba sullenly hung his head. It was Haijima who did that off-putting play that could have overturned the base premise of volleyball yesterday…

“Didn’t you talk to Haijima yesterday, good grief…Haijima said that yesterday’s high-handed way of doing things was like a surprise attack, and that he knew what he was doing. He said that no matter how you look at it, it won’t work today. He said that as long you could recover, we could win…”

“Haijima did…?”

“A guy like that acts calm and composed, even if you weren’t here, but…it looks like that happened in the middle of the first set. I had a feeling something was wrong, but his face never changed even once…Oh, oh, Haijima, you ready to go?”

He tensed up at the advisor’s voice, a conditioned reflex.

Haijima appeared slowly from the back of the dim hallway. He was dressed in the Monshiro Middle School jersey pants and a white T-shirt, his enamel bag was slung over his shoulder, and he must have just washed his hair, since his bangs were wet. The middle finger of his left hand was lightly pressed against his side with his ring finger supporting it, and there was tape winded around it.

It seemed that he had dislocated his left hand’s middle finger.

Because Monshiro, which had an injured player in the semifinals, didn’t have enough reserve members, they withdrew from the third-place deciders. In spite of getting fourth place in the prefecturals, an outstanding achievement that would be carved into the history of Monshiro Middle School’s athletic clubs, it ended in a way they couldn’t be proud of at all. At the same time Kuroba arrived, the advisor had dismissed the club members on site and was about to accompany Haijima to the hospital.

They could have just waited for Kuroba to arrive until just before the start of the third-place deciders. However, the advisor decided to withdraw from the game as soon as possible, because he concluded that even if Kuroba was able to make it and the team had enough members, they wouldn’t be able to play a game worthy of the third-place deciders with Haijima in a non-functioning state. They could do the semifinals without Kuroba, but the team was fundamentally unsustainable without Haijima.

Haijima raised his gaze that was tending slightly downwards. As soon as he recognized Kuroba, his narrow eyes widened a little. His lips opened thinly as he was about to assemble some words. Kuroba clenched his teeth, wondering if he was going to punch him.

However, Haijima only gave a small sigh, like he was exhausted, and then cast down his eyes again. …His eyes are red? Don’t tell me he was crying?

“…What. So you’re alive…”

He spat out in a low voice. He sounded a bit nasal. Dislocations were an integral part of volleyball, something Kuroba had yet to experience, but he had heard that the pain was enough to make one cry. Or was he frustrated that he lost? He wondered if he had ever cried in frustration before. He didn’t think so. …He felt somewhat guilty that he couldn’t understand a single thing about Haijima’s pain.

“When did I die?”

Even though he should have first apologized for skipping the game, but he couldn’t get the word “Sorry” out. He responded jokingly in spite of himself, but got no reaction. Haijima silently walked past the advisor and ignored his confused voice calling out to his back with “Haijima, that’s not the way to the taxi.” He passed Kuroba without making eye contact with him.

Their shoulders brushed. It was Haijima, not Kuroba, who staggered.

The March incident suddenly flashed across his mind. It vividly reminded him of when Haijima became like a lifeless doll that had its important circuits fried after he was knocked down by Yorimichi—

Oh…

The signs matched up in his head, and he was aghast at himself for making such a stupid joke. For Haijima, the life or death of his teammate wasn’t something he could joke about. It must have been engraved into him as a trauma. He didn’t know the details, but apparently someone on his team attempted suicide because of Haijima.

Don’t tell me he was seriously afraid of that while I was reluctantly tossing around reasons to skip…

“Hai…”

When he suddenly turned back at Haijima’s leaving back, he heard his voice.

“I know what your ‘judgement�� of me is. It’s enough…”

Haijima’s voice was hoarse, so difficult to hear that it was hard to believe it came from him.

He couldn’t come up with anything to say right away. He should have run after him, took his arm and said “You’re wrong,” but his feet were stuck to the ground and he couldn’t move.

Even if he tried to deny it, he actually did them. The mean and cowardly act of calling around and badmouthing him behind his back. The childish act of skipping because he didn’t want to be in a match with him. While coolly declaring that “I’ll make up my own judgement about you,” he ended up making Haijima feel the same way he had in his previous school.

Even though he wasn’t wearing headphones like when he first transferred, there was a hard shell being put around his back, and he couldn’t find a gap to call out to him through. Ah…why am I even recalling this now? Haijima hasn’t brought that bag with his old school’s emblem on it since who-knows-when.

We’re going backwards.

…No way, it’s over? That’s it? It was only then that he realized that there would be no more opportunities to recover. Why hadn’t I thought of that until now? The third-year middle school summer tournament only comes once. It’s our first and last tournament. Why didn’t I value each minute and second and engrave them into my heart? We’re just going to end this with this letdown of an ending where we withdrew from the third-place deciders—.

He felt like time was suddenly zipping by at a dizzying speed, and he stepped on the ground with both feet to keep from falling.

I don’t want it to end here.

I still—still want to play volleyball with Haijima.

Previous || Index || Next

[rae-is-typing]

Minor Injury, Overprotective Bucky

Anonymous requested: Hi! I was wondering if you could do a fem!teen!reader where she gets injured on a mission and the whole team freaks out and they are all super protective of her after, especially bucky because he sees her as a little sister? Thanks!

Characters: You, Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner, and a random medic

Warnings: Explosions, sprained ankle, being picked up against one's will

Disclaimer: this ain't my best work. I know this is an excuse, but im on a trip w/o WiFi so I wrote this super fast on my phone. I'm so sorry :(

Word count: 1.3k

You really didn't hurt yourself that badly. Bucky was just overreacting.

The mission was simple: get a file from an active HYDRA base and skedaddle before you got yourself hurt.

Easy, right?

Apparently not.

You jumped off the Quinn Jet (with a parachute, thank you very much Mr. Barnes) and landed several yards away from the base.

You abandoned the parachute and began to run to the base. You sprinted through thicket and trees, humid summer heat coupled with the natural atmosphere of the location meant you were already dripping sweat.

You slowed to a jog and eventually to a stop behind a large tree as you reached the base.

A few unsuspecting HYDRA agents were surrounding a few vehicles, examining them and talking. Guards stood at the door in the south entrance and others along the fence.

You bit your lip, slowly creeping along the tree line until it was safe for you to start running again.

You broke into a run, taking care as to not make a ton of noise. You managed to make your way to the east entrance where it was significantly less guarded.

One guard sat by the entrance, one leg folded over the other and his hat covering his face. His head was tipped back.

You smirked. Score.

You jogged to the entrance. The steel door towered above you. You looked at it, bit your lip and took a step back. There was a small black box sitting on the wall by the gigantic door. You looked back to the guard, spotting an ID badge.

You held your breath as you reached for the badge, making as little noise as possible. As soon as the cool plastic badge met your skin, you paused. He squirmed in his seat, adjusted his hat and settled.

You let out your breath and went back to stealing the idiot's badge. You unclipped it and shot back to the door. You held the bagel to the box. No sound was made as the door opened. You slipped in and opened the digital map Stark had given to everyone.

You needed to head back to the southern part of the base to retrieve the file in question. You looked around, spotting a vent.

"Fri, are the vents safe?" You whisper, beginning to pull of the cover.

"Yes. They are safe to move through." Friday responds after a moment.

After you pull of the metal cover, you army crawl to the southern part of the base.

Your elbows hurt as you crawled to where you were supposed to be. There wasn't a semblance of a doubt in your mind that they'd be bruised when you were getting your mandatory post-mission check up by the medics.

"You are in the right location, Y/N." Friday's automated voice range through the comms. "There is a cover a few feet in front of you."

"Thanks, Fri." You grunted, continuing to the vent cover.

"Anyone below me?"

"Negative."

You kicked out the cover and slid out of the vents. The only thing in the room was a huge system of monitors filling the area. You dashed towards them, immediately beginning to hack them.

The only reason your were on the team was because of you ability to hack into any machine that was put in front of you. It was your superpower.

Halfway through your task, you heard a crash, gunshots and yelling.

"Shit, shit, shit!" You snap, typing quicker. You thrust the flash drive into the computer system and begin uploading the file. The yelling got louder and the gunshots didn't stop. It was getting closer to you. Your hair stood on end as you urged the file to upload at a faster pace. Soon enough, a large boom resounded through the base and the floor shook.

"Y/L/N! Get outta there!" You heard Clint yell.

"The file's almost uploaded!" You tell back. It was at 98%.

"How much longer? This place is going to blow soon, kid!"

"Like, a few seconds." You say, already gripping the end of the hard drive. As soon as it hit 100%, you yanked it out and sprinted to the nearest exit with Friday's guidance.

You got out just in time for the place to be blown to smithereens. The impact of the blast sent you flying. You landed on your ankle and instantly felt pain shoot up your leg. Your body slammed on the ground, effectively knocking the air from your system.

You clutch your foot and clench your teeth to keep from screaming out in pain.

"Y/N? Come in!" Clint's worried voice rang in your ear. "Y/N!"

"I'm alive. But in pain. My ankle- I don't know what happened. I don't think I can walk." You manage to bring out, tearing up a little bit.

"Okay. Barnes is on his way to you. Did you get the file?"

"Yeah, I got it."

"Good job, kid. Hang tight, help is coming."

You press two fingers around your ankle, checking for any broken bone. You couldn't feel any tell tale signs of a fracture. Biting your lip, you manage to scoot a couple feet back to rest against a tree.

Bucky came within the minute, face masked by his suit. He said nothing as he picked you up and began to run to the jet. You press your face against his chest and let yourself cry a little. The jostling didn't help your pain at all, and the throbbing just got worse.

Everyone was waiting on the Quinn Jet for the two of you. Bucky placed you gently on one of the cots. Bruce managed to roll up your panteg enough to reveal your now swollen ankle. He made a face while.checking it out. You wince sharply, tensing up.

"This looks like a really bad sprain. I'll order an x-ray for it as soon as we get back. Here, take this. It'll help with the pain and swelling." He placed two white pills in your hand and gave you a water bottle along with it. You take it without fuss.

"Thanks. Here's the file." You pass him the hard drive.

You lay back in the cot. The pain wore off, as did your adrenaline. You only meant to close your eyes for a moment, not the rest of the trip.

Jostling woke you up.

"Buck?" You ask, rubbing an eye.

"Hey, doll. You got yourself pretty hurt back there."

"I didn't mean to fuck my ankle up." You frown, indignant. "You can put me down. I'm sure I'm fine."

"Not happening, kid. Stevie's told me that too many times."

The medics took their time when examining you. The results came back, and Bruce was right. It was just a really bad sprain.

"Alright, Y/N. Ice it a few times a day, elevate it and get some rest. Take some ibuprofen for pain and swelling. Come back if the pain gets worse."

You nod. "Thanks."

The medic smiles. "Here are some crutches,"

You take them and hobble to the conference room where everyone else was debriefing.

"Where do you think you're going?"

You turn your head to see a freshly showered Bucky crossing his arms with an eyebrow cocked.

"The debriefing."

"No you're not. You are going straight to bed, young lady."

"Excuse me?" You laugh.

"You heard me. Bed."

"I'm going to the debriefing." You turn back, hobbling forward the best you could.

"Alright, c'mon." He easily catches up to you. He put his hands on the crutches, pulled one away and picked you up.

You squeaked and threw your arms around his neck. "Put me down!"

"Nope. I'm gonna come down later and grab these for you so you don't have to worry bout a thing, doll. You're resting."

"No," you say, pushing against his chest, surely looking like a toddler throwing a fit. Bucky chuckles, continuing to your room.

"Rest first. You need to get better."

[stateofloveandnegan]

Get Well Soon - David Budd

I’m sooo not happy with the ending but if y’all would like a second part, I'm more than happy to write it! just let me know in the comments or in an ask :)

Requested by: no one

Warning(s): mention of an attack/injuries

Masterlist

“Good morning, David.” I say with a kind smile as I pass his desk. He looks up and smiles, letting out a quick, “Mornin’.” And going back to what he was doing.

I let out a soft sigh when I reach my own desk, which is two rows ahead of David’s. David and I have been colleagues for a while now. I’ve been trying to get to know him little by little, but I’ve been stuck for a long time.

Every morning I wish him a good morning. Every end of the day, I wish him a good night. I want to get to know him better, but I’ve failed in doing so yet. He’s a complicated one, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but I have no idea how to get to know him better. He’s got to be the one to open up at least a little if he wants the same thing.

“(Y/N), could you please come by my office later?” my boss speaks up beside my desk, breaking my little daydream about David. I blink my eyes a couple of times before nodding, “Yes, sir. Of course.”

David looks up for a moment when he hears me speak, but just as our eyes meet, he looks back down. I gather my thoughts and start doing my job, pushing David to the back of my mind.

Work goes pretty smoothly, but also very slowly. When I’m done with what I had to do, I stand up and make my way towards my boss’ office. Just as I’m about to knock on the door, it swings open and I’m met with David’s bright blue eyes.

“David.” I say, a little surprised. David, too, seems surprised. “(Y/N).” he nods at me and passes me without saying another word. I grunt softly, slightly annoyed by how David always acts around me; so damned professional.

“Ah, (Y/N), come in.” my boss smiles and beckons me to come into the room. I close the door behind me on my way in. “Take a seat, I’ve got some exciting news.”

Curiosity enters my body, and I quickly take a seat. “I’ve got a job for you, but it’s a little different from what you usually do. It’s out on the field. Do you think you’re ready for that?”

My eyes widen, I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time. Going out on the field was something I wanted to do as soon as I started working here, but I wasn’t allowed to immediately do so.

The excitement almost causes me to lose my professionalism, but I quickly regain myself; “Yes, sir. I’m ready.”

My boss lets out a soft chuckle, noticing how excited I am, even though I’m trying to hide it. “Here are the papers of the job. You’ll be out on the field for the entirety of this and next week, (Y/N). All the information you need is in here,” he slides the papers towards me. “If you have any questions, you can contact me.”

I scan the papers and nod as my boss finishes speaking, “Yes, sir. Thank you for giving me this opportunity.”

“No need to thank me, (Y/N). This is your chance to prove yourself worthy. Now, you’re dismissed.”

All that’s on my mind is my upcoming field trip, I’ve read the papers a good couple of times and I’m excited, but also a little nervous. I gather my stuff at the end of my shift and make my way out of the building, not even wishing David a good night. I simply don’t think about doing it, because there’s something else, something big, on my mind.

David notices, though. And for some reason he feels slightly disappointed. He doesn’t know where this feeling comes from, he never really paid much attention to what I said to him. Not because he didn’t like me as a person, or as a colleague, but he was a private person. He didn’t feel the need to have more contact with his colleagues than necessary.

The next morning, my new job starts and it’s very exciting, but also scary at times. There’s been attacks on a certain group of people and it’s our job to protect the group, as well as find the attackers and turn them in.

As the days go by, we’ve come close to attacks on multiple occasions, but fortunately, every time we were on time to stop it. “Ma’am, how much longer do you think it’s going to-”

A loud bang takes over and before I can even think of doing something to protect my clients, I’m knocked out of the world. Everything turns black and all I can feel is myself hitting something, very hard. But what it is, I have absolutely no idea.

My eyes shoot open and pain courses through my entire body as I regain consciousness. “Wha- fuck. What happened?” I ask, distress written across my features.

A young man, seeming somewhere in his twenties, tries to calm me down, gently resting his hand on my shoulder so I can’t get up. “Easy, miss (L/N). You’re in the hospital, there was an attack on you and your people.”

Now, horror enters my face, but the young man is quick to calm me, “A few people got hurt, but nobody is severely injured. Out of everyone, you’re the worst.” He smiles weakly.

The young doctor informs me about my injuries: two broken ribs, a concussion, a broken wrist, and a sprained ankle. I let out a grunt of frustration, but when he tells me I am allowed to rest at home, because they’ve done everything they could do for me, I let out a sigh of relief; if I have to time off work to heal, I’d much rather to it at home than at the hospital.

A couple of hours later, with help of my best friend, who’s also my neighbour, I’m back home. She had to pick me up with a wheelchair, otherwise they wouldn’t let me leave. But everyone knows I’m stubborn, as soon as I was out of sight, I got out of that thing and started walking on my own. Which wasn’t very smart, because I then realised that walking with the injuries I have, does hurt quite a lot.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay here?” Anne asks, to which I let out a chuckle. The chuckle turns into quiet fit of coughing as my ribs are hurting and my throat is sore. “I’m sure, Anne. If I need you, you’re right beside me, remember?”

Anne smiles and heaves out a sigh, “Yeah, okay, you’re right… don’t hesitate to call me as soon as you need something. I’ll be off, then.”

“Bye, dearest. I’ll see you soon.”

The days go by and Richard starts to get worried. He immediately noticed it when I didn’t show up at work the day me field work started. He overheard some colleagues talking about the job and let out a relieved sigh to find out I was okay.

But, then, when he heard about the attack and that a police officer was taken to the hospital with multiple injuries, he became worried sick. He was very hesitant to do so, but after thinking about it for two days, he finally walked up to a colleague he knew to be a friend of mine, and asked if I was alright. “She’s at home recovering, it’ll take another month or two before she’s allowed back.”

David sighed, a frown on his face. He would never admit it, but he missed my greetings every day, he missed seeing my face at work. Working up the courage, he asked our colleague for my address, who simply raised his eyebrows in surprise, but wrote the address down, nonetheless. David sent him a small smile before going back to his own desk, trying to think of what he would do now that he had my address.

A couple of days later, as I’m preparing lunch for myself, the doorbell rings. I furrow my brows in confusion; nobody ever really visits unless I made plans with someone. I shrug lightly to myself and limp, a little, over to the door. When I open the door, surprise enters my face. “David?”

He swallows and smiles a little awkwardly, “Hi, I just wanted to give you this.” I look at what he’s holding. It’s a basket with some stuff in it, and it’s incredibly endearing that he did that for me. The basket contains a tiny teddy bear, a super soft duvet, a nice tea mug with some special flavoured teabags in it, and last but not least, a small box of ‘get well soon’ chocolates.

My heart flutters at the gesture of it all, and at how amazing it looks. “That���s… that’s really sweet of you, David. Thank you so much. Would you like to come inside for a moment?”

I take step back so David can come in. He thinks about it for a moment before nodding and walking past me inside the house. “It smells nice in here.” He speaks uncertainly.

“I was just making some lunch. Would you like some as well? I’ve got plenty.” I offer, not sure why, but it just feels right.

For the first time, I spot a small smile on David’s face as he places the basket on the coffee table. “That would be nice.”

I walk back to the kitchen and, rather clumsily, grab some dishes. When I turn around, pain shoots through my ankle and I’m already mentally preparing for a fall, but I never hit the ground. David’s arms are quickly wound around my body.

“Shit.” I mutter, my ankle hurting a lot. “Everything alright?” David asks gently and I groan softly, “It’s my ankle…”

“Let’s sit you down.” he instructs as he helps me, practically carries me, to a chair at the dining table. The pain in my ankle is so heavy that I don’t even have time to feel embarrassed about the situation. “Where can I find some ice?”

I look up at David and point at the freezer, “In the freezer.”

For some reason, even though Richard has always convinced himself he’s better off without his colleagues as friends, he can’t help the happy feeling inside him. It’s as if an empty spot is now filled with… me.

When David comes back to me, he has an icepack, wrapped in a towel, in his hands. He sits down on the chair beside mine and carefully lifts my foot up to rest on his lap. “Tell me if it hurts.” he speaks softly before putting the icepack on my ankle. I wince softly, but soon it only feels better.

It’s silent for a while and I curse myself under my breath for being so stubborn. It’s only now that the pain in my chest also stirs up; obviously I still have two broken ribs. Even though they weren’t badly broken, and they’d only needed a week to heal, it still hurts a shit ton.

When I look up, David is already looking at me. His eyes and all his other features are soft; it’s something I’ve never seen on his face. “I owe you an apology, (Y/N).” he says and my brows furrow in confusion, “What do you mean?”

David sighs, his hands still gently holding my foot and the icepack. “From the start, you’ve been really kind to me. Yet, all I’ve been to you is cold and uninterested. I’m sorry for being like that.”

My heart warms at his words; So he did pay attention to me. “I got worried when you stopped showing up at work, but when I heard about your field work, I wasn’t worried anymore. I was disappointed, though. At first, I couldn’t figure out why, but then I realised it was because you weren’t at the office anymore.”

I swallow lightly, beginning to get a little nervous. This man has so much effect on me, and he doesn’t even realise it. “That’s why, when I heard about the attack, I immediately went to Brian and asked for your address.” David thinks about what he said and scolds himself quietly, “That sounds really creepy, doesn’t it? I’m not a creep, I promise.”

I chuckle quietly and shake my head, a light tint of red covering my cheeks. “I know you’re not a creep, David.”

A smile settles on his face and he continues, “I wanted to make sure you knew that, in fact, I do care about you. Even though we barely know each other. It’s kinda weird, I can’t really explain this feeling.”

“That’s alright, Dave. Because I know exactly what you mean.” I admit, sending him a smile.

David sits up a little more before speaking his next words, as if to gain more confidence. “If you’d like, I can make you some dinner tonight? I don’t think it would be smart if you’d walk about and did a lot of stuff yourself.”

My smile widens and I nod, sitting up a little as well. “I’d really like that. But I wouldn’t like to be a bother to you, David.”

David shakes his head and chuckles, “You’re no bother, (Y/N).”

He gently puts my foot down, it’s already feeling much, much, better than before. Without having me asking him to do something for me, he finishes the lunch I made for myself. He turns around and I smile, pointing at the cupboard that holds the plates.

He grabs two plates and splits the food on them, making sure there’s more on one of the two plates, because he thinks I need more to gain some strength.

“It’s delicious, did you make this yourself?” he asks once we’re both eating. I blush lightly at his words and nod, “Yeah, it’s a recipe I found a little while ago.”

It’s really nice, having David here with me. I gave up on trying to get to know him a little while, so I never expected to be having lunch with him right now.  After lunch, David cleans up the entire kitchen for me, and to say I’m surprised by his actions, is a big understatement.

“I’m gonna go do the grocery shopping for dinner now. I can be back at six?” he says as he helps me get to the sofa. “Yeah, that sounds good. Is there anything I can do to prepare?”

David smiles and shakes his head, “No need. I’ve got it.”

“Thank you for stopping by, the basket alone would’ve been more than enough. I really appreciate what you’re doing, David.” I say sincerely. David smiles and shrugs, “I’m just happy I’m finally getting to know you. I wish I would’ve let myself do that sooner.”

I sit down and David grabs his jacket, “See you tonight, (Y/N).” he says with a soft smile, leaning down and planting a soft kiss on my forehead, which catches me very much off-guard.

When David realises what he just did, a blush enters his face, and he coughs softly, as if to pretend he didn’t just do that. It just felt so natural to do, he thinks to himself. “Bye, Dave.” I say, my voice a little more high pitched than before.

He looks at me with those god damn blue eyes and smiles, nodding before walking off, closing the door behind him.

‘Does he see tonight as a date?’ I wonder. Soon, exhaustion catches up on me. Pain can drain all the energy from you. But I bet that David had something to do with it as well. Thinking about David, and about having dinner with him tonight, I fall asleep with a smile on my face. Only to be woken up a couple of hours later, by the ringing of the bell.

When I open the door, I’m met with a very good-looking David. A smile rests on his face and he’s holding a bag with what I think are the ingredients for whatever he’s going to make. “Hey, there.”

[cosmiceverafter]

68, 77, 83

68. “You didn’t have to ask.”77. “Call me if you need anything.”83. “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

Michael hadn’t seen the other truck coming. It was a flash of headlights, and the next thing he knew, he was waking upside down and feeling numb. 

“Dammit…” he swore loudly as he tried to move slowly. He looked out his window to see if anyone was running over to help. They weren’t. It looked to him as if it were a hit-and-run. 

He undid his seatbelt and braced his fall with his hands. The searing pain in his wrist told him that it was broken. But he had to get out of this truck. What if the gas was leaking? 

Luckily, the window had been down because it was a nice night. He had been on his way to the cabin to grab something from the bunker. He and Alex had been working on everything for days, and there was a certain file on his mom that he needed to study. Tonight. They were getting close to something big. 

Michael shimmied his body slowly out the truck and exhaled in pain when his ribs now cried out in pain. He knew his head was probably bleeding and could feel something wet sliding down his arm as well, so he had to get out fast and call for help. 

When he was finally out, he crawled on the dirt road by a set of trees and all but collapsed. He looked at the damage of his beloved truck. It was a mess. The whole side was bent in; the metal was damaged too badly. He’d be fixing it for a month—but he wouldn’t give up on it. 

Michael was surprised he wasn’t more injured after seeing it though. He was so pissed about the whole ordeal and made a vow to find whoever was responsible, and make them pay. 

He reached inside his pocket and found his phone. Michael was thankful he didn’t need to re-enter the wreckage to find it. 

Looking at the phone, he was deciding who to call. Kyle probably, because the good doctor could help with his injuries and he couldn’t exactly go to the hospital. But as he sat there, there was only one name that kept coming into his mind. Alex. 

They were trying the just friends thing out, both single, and even still after everything… he was the one Michael wanted there. 

He knew the number by heart, he was just hoping it wasn’t too late. “Guerin?” Alex said in a sleepy gruffly voice, “It’s really late. What’s up?”

Damn. It was late. Almost 3 am. Lately, Michael couldn’t sleep at all. His mind had been racing around the information on Caulfield and his mom. He wanted to find out every little detail. It was haunting him. 

“Um… sorry to bug you,” Michael said quietly. He moved slightly and hissed out in pain. 

Immediately he heard a rustle as if Alex were sitting up in bed, “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Not really, no,” Michael replied, shaking his head to no one. “There was a hit-and-run…and I got hit pretty badly.”

“Shit!” 

“Yea, I didn’t know who else to call. I’m currently lying on the side of the road. I could call Isobel….”

He heard Alex moving around as if getting dressed, “No! Stay there. I’m coming to get you.” 

Michael smiled briefly as his heart filled with relief…and joy. Something he tried to beat down. Alex would always be there for him. The man was Mr. Reliable through-and-through. 

He then explained the best he could where he was to Alex. Luckily, he was close to the cabin and Alex was already there instead of his house tonight most likely doing what Michael was doing, going over information. 

Michael stayed on the phone with Alex the whole time, which was Alex’s idea, even when the phone started cutting out. 

Finally, he arrived. Michael knew he had driven fast because he was there in no time even though it was in the middle of nowhere. 

“Hey!” Alex called as he rushed over, his face a mask with worry. “Can you move?”

“Yea, I think I’m okay for the most part but my wrist is broken and the ribs don’t feel so great.” 

“You’re bleeding, too. I should probably call Kyle when we get to the cabin.”

Michael raised an eyebrow, “You’re not taking me home?”

Alex shook his head, “No way. You need to heal and that airstream gets so cold at night.” He looked down at Michael, “I know from personal experience.” 

Michael could feel his face flush in the darkness, “Okay. Yea, thanks. And probably yes about Kyle. 

“I mean, he’s the only one that can know for certain the extent of the injuries.” 

Michael nodded, “I figured. I just thought to call you first for some reason.” He knew the reason. “I know that this was a lot to ask though. For you to come out here and take care of me. And hell, I should’ve asked if it was okay to even reach out to you.”

“I’m glad you did,” Alex replied with a beautiful soft smile. “And for the record, you didn’t have to ask. I’ll always be here for you, Guerin.” 

***

Alex was the best caregiver ever. That much was certain. He warmed a heating pad and did both heat and cold for his injuries. His arm had been bleeding pretty badly, and with Alex’s military training, he knew exactly how to deal with it. He also got super close to Michael as he took care of his head; Michael’s eyes had closed from the smell of Alex. It was so familiar and it left him aching to get even closer. 

Kyle came over shortly after. He had just gotten off of his night shift at the hospital. He was able to tell that Michael’s wrist was broken, his ribs were in fact bruised if not slightly sprained, and he had a slight concussion. Michael was hoping his alien-healing would kick in shortly. Especially because Max wasn’t there to heal him with his powers. That son-of-a-bitch. 

The good doctor had inquired about calling the police about the hit-and-run, but Michael didn’t want to get the police involved. He didn’t like them scoping him out too closely. 

Michael was grateful for the two of them though, even if he didn’t care too much for Kyle. It was nice to know you had people when you needed them. Humans weren’t all that bad after all. Especially ones like Alex. 

Even after Kyle had left, Alex never left his side. It warmed Michael’s heart so much. He couldn’t stop staring up at Alex. This man had taken him into the cabin, let him sleep in the bed, and was doing everything in his power to make sure he was okay. 

Michael wanted to go and get his truck turned around, but Alex wouldn’t let him. The man could be both sweet but very in control of a situation when he needed to be. What he said, went. No questions asked. 

It was hot as hell. 

They talked for hours until the sun started to rise. They laughed about random things, which then Michael cursed at because his ribs hurt so badly he wanted to cry, and in return made Alex also curse and say sorry repeatedly. But Michael wasn’t sorry; there was nowhere else he wanted to be. 

So Alex had changed the subject and told him about the injuries he had gotten during his time in the military. It had been pretty bad at times, and Michael wished he could go back in time to take care of Alex the way he was taking care of him right now. But Alex was strong. He didn’t need someone to take care of him. 

Michael wanted to anyway. 

As Alex talked, Michael took this opportunity to stare at him again. 

They were so stupid. They would never be just friends. Michael was so in love with this human. He was falling more and more in love with him as the days went by. The more time they had spent together, the more in love he fell. 

He didn’t even think it was possible. But clearly, it was. 

Even though what they were working on got heavy sometimes, they still had the light moments between them. Moments Michael hadn’t felt with the guy in years. 

The truth of the matter was this: They were both healing. 

Michael saw a change in Alex as well. He seemed happier, confident, and more carefree. It was like seeing him with a different set of eyes, even though this Alex had been there all along. 

He had worked on himself, too, in many ways. Michael wanted to stop the bullshit; he wanted to be nicer to others and work harder to be the best version of himself he could. He stopped blaming others for the past. Michael wanted to take the steps in moving forward. 

And he wanted to move forward with Alex. The man inspired him every day. 

The conversation was there hovering above them constantly, but he just didn’t know how to start it. 

Being pulled back in the present moment, Alex said he could stay at the cabin for as long as he needed to recover. Alex finally went to sleep on the couch, and Michael had wanted to cuddle with him more than anything. 

When they were both awake later on, Alex had to go get some files from their new bunker. The guy looked worried though. “Just go, Alex, I’ll be fine.” Michael reassured, “I promise. You’ve been better than the doctor himself. And yes, you can tell him I said that.” 

Alex laughed, “Oh, I will. He’ll love that one.” He looked towards the door, “I won’t be long, okay? I need to check on Buffy, too.” 

“Go, do what you need to do. But can I ask a favor?”

“Of course,” Alex said with a nod. “Anything.”

“Can you bring Buffy back with you?”

“Consider it done. I think she misses you anyway.” 

Michael chuckled, “She should! I am her favorite alien.”

Alex shrugged with a sheepish grin, “Well, to be perfectly honest, Guerin… I didn’t want to tell you this, but Isobel is.”

“Hey!” Michael frowned with a pouty lip as Alex laughed, “Just go get her. I’ll show you otherwise.”

“Okay, okay,” Alex said making his way out the door with his hands up. He paused and looked back at Michael. The sunlight was hitting his face just right, and it took Michael’s breath away, “And hey, call me if you need anything. Anything at all, okay?” Michael nodded and smiled. 

As Alex left, Michael wondered how he could tell Alex what he needed the most, was him? 

He was going to find a way to do it. Maybe this wreck was a way of waking him up…both of them up. Tomorrow wasn’t always promised. So Michael was going to start fighting for what he wanted, and what he wanted, was Alex by his side forever. 

[heartless-error]

Broken, not perfect, but together. - Chapter 7

Fandom: DC comics, Batman

Pairings: Jonathan Kent x Damian Wayne (JonDami) & Jason Todd x Timothy Drake (JayTim)

Rating: Family feels, hurt/comfort, mental health issues, running away, relationship reveal

Other(s) links: AO3

Broken.

The Batfamily was broken.

It was six years ago, and they had barely stood together since then, trying to stand up despite guilt and regret.

Damian was sure there was nothing to save, not after losing something that he didn’t know he cared about. But when a new opportunity to get back what they had lost appeared, he cannot help to doubt as his past decisions haunt him again.

If you love somebody, set them free. But you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

Chapter Summary: That night, for a single moment, he thought that was good and everything would change. It did, but not in the way he wanted, because it wasn't that easy.

Chapter 7

 Six years ago

 When Nighwing and Robin returned to the cave after patrol, Red Hood’s bike was already there.

 In the usual darkness and humidity atmosphere of the cave, Damian looked at the vehicle bored like always, already used to Red Hood visits without warning and even expecting an annoying welcome from him. It didn’t come, but he knew that the slight tension in Nightwing’s shoulders was not only because of the stroke of luck that any thug had managed to give him tonight, but because unlike him, he was still slightly on guard when Todd appeared around them.

 However, they couldn’t see him anywhere. And while that might be alarming to Dick, Damian found it a relief not to have to suffer in his flesh how irritating the second Robin could be.

 “Shall we go to medbay, little D?” Asked Dick Grayson in that gentile tone that he hated so much in these situations.

 “It’s not necessary.”

 It really wasn’t. The discomfort he felt in his left ankle after landing badly during the fight was banal and didn’t need to be attended at all. A couple of days off would be enough, even less. He wasn’t that weak.

 “It will only be a moment, come on.” The older insisted. “Then we can rest, I’m sure Alfred has done something to us.”

 “Tt.”

 “At least we have to bandage that ankle.”

 “My ankle is fine.”

 The patrol had been fairly quiet, except for the little fight with Riddle and some of his thugs at the end of it, where Nightwing had been bruised a little and Robin had fallen awry at some point. In the end they had won, unsurprisingly, and Batman told them to return to the base while he was finishing the work alongside the GCPD.

He knew it wasn’t just because they were done for tonight, but to make sure their wounds weren’t serious. And they weren’t, a couple of punches in the face and a sprained ankle are like a starter for either of them, seriously, Damian had gotten worse injuries by playing hide and seek with Todd and Brown. But no matter how much he repeated this to his father and Grayson, he knew the last would drag him to the medbay as soon as they arrived, even if it was to apply an ointment as if he were still a child who didn’t know how to take care of himself.

 He was 16 and had only stumbled on the edge of a building. Calm down.

 “Grayson, I repeat that it’s not necessary.” He said again annoyed, even though the other one had already started to push him towards the medbay. “I am in perfect condition.”

 “You are limping.” He replied in a serious reproach. “If I won’t check you up Alfred will do it, what do you prefer?”

 Damian rolled his eyes, he shouldn’t abuse his weakness for Pennyworth in that way, nor to point out his innocent and banal limp, which was jus annoying. Grayson was not always going to get away with everything, although this time he was going to do it, seeing how he was dragged to that part of the cave without being able to resist. Sometimes it’s better to know when to surrender.

 He noticed how the older had not only examined him, but also his surroundings, with that slight tension increasing as they moved. Surely, he was trying to determine Todd’s location to keep an eye on him in that way Dick denied he did.

 “He’s with Drake, like always.” Damian though with boredom.

 It was very hard not to question Grayson’s detective skills when he didn’t seem to know -or rather want to accept- that the only reason Todd put a foot into the cave or any territory of the bats, was Drake. That, and maybe when he didn’t have a choice.

Although the silence was unexpected, since Red Hood made sure to be noticed in the place with the aim of ruin everyone night with his shrill false laughs, his harsh words full of sarcasm, his complaints, insults, and meaningless nicknames.  It didn’t take much thought to conclude that he would be with Red Robin somewhere. When Drake deigned to also appear there after patrol -generally when he didn’t have many options either- it wasn’t unusual for him to accompany or take him there, which explained the bike. The “red team” was a very annoying pack that sometimes shown to reaffirm that, indeed, the black sheep of the family had come together to… Well, do whatever they do when they are together.

 The last could variate from sharing cases and information between them, to having a heated debate about which Star Wars movie is the best. It depends of the day, but Damian generally preferred to be cautious in knowing where they were and what they were doing since that time he got into that debate and they joined forces to try to hang him upside down in one of the manor’s chandeliers.

 “What movie do you want to see later?” Dick asked, giving him a friendly pat on his back.

 “None.” He replied impassively. Although remembering about the chandelier episode made him wants to see Return of the Jedi.

 “Come on, Dami!” The other complained. “I have to go back to Bludhaven tomorrow, can’t we have brothers time?”

 “No.”

 “Ouch.”

 “I can’t.” He just explained it so that he would never have to hear that complaint, not worthy of an adult man. “I’m meeting someone.”

 He knew exactly what Dick was thinking from the way he raised his eyebrows and looked at him more intently. Needless to say, he didn’t like it, least of all when his eyes began to shine with amusement, as if he was about to insinuate something. The worst part of having older siblings was precisely this.

 “Oh?” He cooed. “With whom?”

 “Jonathan.” He hastened to say so that he wouldn’t have to bear one more of his questions. “I said him I’d call after patrol.”

 His time to see Jonathan had been reduced since he entered Gotham High, but they had been calling and they could last hours.

On the other hand, he knew what his older brother had assumed. Since he turned 14 approx. it looked like he and his father had been watching him closely to determine when to gave him that talk. They were like hawks waiting for prey outside the burrow, every time they thought they could give way to that moment, their eyes sparkled and the discomfort along with nervousness flooded them. The first few times it was fun, but when your father seems about to collapse because you invited a classmate home, stops. It was annoying and totally unnecessary and, to be honest, he prefer to sleep three weeks on Todd’s moldy sofa rather than having to go through the talk with any of them.

 “Oh, I see.”

 Dick’s curiosity dissipated in a second as he shrugged, totally agree that he had put his best friend up for that night and relaxing because it wasn’t a girl, or whatever he thought.

In one way or another, both his father and Grayson always ceased those alarmed looks and attempts to give him the talk when he mentioned his plans with Jonathan. They didn’t seem to find suspicious the fact that the super was the only person he allowed such proximity, or hold hands, or he called him almost every night, or even he escaped some of them to sleep at his home. No, for them it wasn’t an indicator that they were missing something important, they just let their guard down, let it pass and believed there was nothing else.

 Very naive on his part.

 “You can invite others to your movie night.” He hinted with a huff, quite irritated, already approaching to the medbay.

 Both knew who he meant by “others”. Damian was aware that as vigilant as he was at first, Grayson missed his other siblings, despite the fact their relationship hadn’t been the same for years.

You could tell from the way he looked sad when he had to be on guard around Todd, when Drake refused to trust him with anything personal or even the nostalgic, sorry smile that crossed his face when he suggested that as opened the medbay door.

 “I don’t think they could, they sure are bus-”

 He didn’t finish the sentence, because when they entered at the room the scene inside stunned them and paralyzed everything in an extremely uncomfortable and heavy silence, almost suffocating them.

 Tim and Jason parted from the deep, slow kiss they were sharing almost immediately, their sharps eyes shining and staring at them in a mixture of surprise and dread. They hadn’t been quick enough to disguise his actions, nor would they have been out of the question when Todd was still between the other’s legs and squeezing his hips tightly while Drake sat on the bed holding onto his shoulders.

 They were silent, he didn’t remember have never lived such an awkward moment in the cave. They were all looking at each other intently and with an oppressive tension flooding the room, threatening to crush them apart. Each one analyzing the others and on guard as ever, waiting for anyone to attack at the slightest movement.

Damian couldn’t locate the expressions in conflict of the others, they were a mixture of mistrust, suspicion and courage, the latter being the one wining as they recovered from the initial surprise of being discovered and began to raise their defenses little by little. Tim showed coldness and control, while Jason bristled completely. On the other hand, Dick had remained still as a statue beside him, barely breathing, he couldn’t glimpse his expression.

 He was still too, not knowing how to proceed, but somehow while a part of him was irritated and disappointed (because he knew Drake and Todd were smarter than that and knew how to hide better, what are they doing here?), another felt… calm? He couldn’t determine what emotions should he face right now, but there was a concern in his mind that had been there before entering the room. This had grown stronger and twisted in an unpleasant way when Grayson didn’t seem to react the way Damian knew he should by telling him he was meeting with Jonathan, but now…

He looked at Jason, then at Tim, at Jason, at Tim, at Jason, at Tim again. He noticed how they held each other, how easy they pressed their bodies together and how naturally they seemed to hug; He remembered that calm kiss he had just witnessed, how they seemed to treasure it; Remembered Tim wearing shirts and sweatshirts twice his size, Jason leaving patrol early because he had “a babybird to take care”, the two eating chillidogs on the rooftops, healing each other’s wounds, the smiles, the looks. Both in general.

 Damian felt something finally fit inside him.

 Beyond understanding better, the relationship of those two, it was as if he had also understood and accepted something of himself. Something that had always been there, but had kept locked up, misunderstood, barely visualized, that when seeing them together had deciphered at the end.

It had always been as if he was envious of them, but not at the same time, and without knowing why. But now, seeing them, he felt like he wanted that, no, he knew he wanted that, but not exactly, and somehow made him happy to admit it to himself for once. He was relieved, as if everything made sense now. Tim and Jason, he and Jon. No more confusion, no more doubts.

 Seeing them together, so closely, confirming his suspicions, was like proof of what he could have. That he really could have it, it could happen, and it was fine, he wasn’t alone, he wasn’t the only one. As much as Grayson and his father only became alert when they saw him with a girl, or as much as his mother and grandfather wanted a blood heir with a worthy woman, his brothers could understand what he felt and not judge him, not that he thought the others could do it, but the slight pressure and bitterness that left their expectations was not easy to carry.

But now that he thought about it, both of them never had, they never did that. Tim sided with them when their parents scolded him and Superboy for sneaking into each other’s rooms without permission, making them even accept that it was good for their hero partnership, winking secretly at them at the end; Jason sometimes invite them to food whenever they were on patrol and then leave them alone; and they both did react as they should when they heard something from both of them, but they seemed as reluctant as Damian to give or receive the talk.

 A slight smile began to form on his lips, realizing how much this helped him. This could change everything.

 It did, but not in the way he thought. It wasn’t that easy.

 “W-What’s going on here?”

 Nightwing’s puzzled voice broke the silence, further aggravating the atmosphere and making the relief Damian had begun to feel wobble, his little smile fading immediately.

Drake tensed in his seat, Jason frowned further, but they parted to face them properly. Although that didn’t seem to appease Grayson, judging by the rigidity of his posture, as if he were about to attack.

 “We had a complication on patrol.” Drake reported with the same professionalism as ever, completely ignoring the real question. “I was hurt, and we came to treat it, we’re already done.”

 That explained their presence in the medbay, why he was sitting on the bed, and the gauze and medical material scattered around them, recently used. But at the same time didn’t give any sense about why they were there when they had closer safe houses, why the cave system hasn’t given any notice of their presence and why they were trying to sneak around.  Drake was already dressed, his suit hiding any injuries he had come to treat in secret, surely the silence and kisses were useful and more adequate to treat someone while Alfred wasn’t around.

 “No.” Grayson denied, clearly that wasn’t what he wanted to know. “T-The other thing… Were you kissing?”

 That question asked in a suspicious tone was a direct statement that they had been seen, and he didn’t mean to let it go and pretend he hadn’t see nothing as much as they wanted to, which they didn’t seem to like. Neither Damian because it made look like they were doing something wrong. And they didn’t, right?

 “Yeah. So what?” Jason answered directly. It was probably the best; they couldn’t lie when they had two witnesses after all.

 “What do you mean “so what”?” Dick replied, his initial surprise turning to a slight reproach. “What the hell-?”

 “It’s none of your fucking business.” Todd declared fiercely, wanting to cut everything. “Drop it.”

 Of course, he was talking to Dick Grayson, a bat. He was an expert in stick his nose in everything and was stubborn to insufferable levels, he wasn’t going to drop this.

 “It is! S-Since when does this happen?”

 The last one already had an angry tone, close to a growl, a scolding. It made that feeling of calm that Damian treasured fade away to become a rough and insecure one, growing more and more as Grayson’s anger.

He didn’t even know what to say, at any other time he would have said something. But right now, with emotions flooding him, he knew if he opened his mouth he would agree with Todd and Drake, because is not their business. But if he said it, he was sure he would be sent to his room like a 10-year-old boy who forgot to brush his teeth after dinner.

 “Drop it, Dick.” Said Drake, shifting on the bed and ready to leave. “We’re leaving.”

 “Tim, please answer my question!”

 “You don’t want to know.” He said coldly.

 “Why I-”

 “Ya don’t give a shit, Dickface.” Hood interrupted him. “But you’re going to start a drama either way.”

 “And how do you want me to react?” Grayson replied, pointing at them, exasperated, as if he saw something the others didn’t.

 He could partly understand his reaction, it was an unusual revelation and how he had thought before entering the room, Dick’s relationship with them was broken to some levels almost irreparable. He barely saw them, knew something about his actual lives, meet them beyond patrols and missions, could rarely glimpse them from afar and had no chance to interact with them, so the initial shock might have been expected.

 “Just leave us alone, dammit!” Said Jason, his angry increased.

 “I can’t! You’re siblings!”

 That statement shook even him, and it seemed like a slap on the face for the other two.

In theory Grayson was right, but at the same time he was lacking. Legally, on paper, Drake and Todd were brothers, both adopted by Bruce Wayne, that’s right. But to tell the truth, the legal way was not so important in this case, since according to some papers Todd was dead and Drake has a lost uncle who took care of him before. They hadn’t grown up together, nor lived together, they had never even met duly before Todd’s resurrection, they had never seen each other as family, it was a fact.

 “It’s not-“ Tim began to explain, before being interrupted again.

 “And he tried to kill you”

 That accusation, sad and heavy as it would have been said, was like another slap, which again, even reached him. Because if they really started to argue who had tried to kill whom years ago, the argument would last all night, But no doubt it was Jason who was most affected by that, if the way his eyes burned with rage and his expression twisted was an indication. To tell the truth, it’s a miracle he didn’t attack Grayson for real.

 “Fuck you!” He attacked resentfully. “It was years ago, asshole!”

 “So what?” Dick returned his previous words, also letting his emotions dominate him. “Jason, you are still a murderer!”

 It was obvious from the way he said it and spat out the words he hadn’t thought much about the consequences of saying them, maybe he didn’t really think that. He was simply angry, nervous, confused by what he had discovered, and all of that clouded his judgement. But knowing that didn’t stop Damian’s throat from closing, and Tim dropped his façade to scold the oldest in an alarmed whisper.

By now it was common knowledge that even if Red Hood sometimes left the rubber bullets to use the reals, the blood shed was from people who couldn’t even be considered one for the atrocities they had committed. But that remained in a gray and diffuse line of morality that some bats still didn’t approve.

 “What the fuck are you saying?!”

 “I’m saying we can’t trust you!” Dick attacked again. People assumed Grayson was Wayne family’s ray of sunshine, but it was because they had never seen him angry. “You don’t seem to want to change, not to mention the pit influence. You’re dangerous!”

 “I’m already over it!” Hearing Jason saying this with fury, but without fight physically with someone at this point, it could be a real clue about how much Jason could restrain himself.

 “That was before or after trying to kill Tim for the sixth time?”

 “Why don’t you just shut the fuck up?!”

 “Because this it’s not okay!” He said pointing at the other two. “It can’t be healthy!”

 He was wrong. Damian knew it, but he couldn’t say it, why he couldn’t say it? The unpleasant feeling had grown bigger and bigger, now was crushing him, stopping him from speaking. He was just watching the other two arguing as if this was a tennis match.

 “Are you going to lecture us about it? You?” Jason said wryly, laughing out loud. “Sorry. I can’t speak I-fuck-up-all-my-relationships-because-I’m-a-selfish-shit.”

 “Listen to me…” Grayson sighed, lowering his tone to a calmer one, just like when he speaks to any victim or an altered civilian. “I love both of you, I’m saying this for your sake.”

 “Bullshit.”

 “I am your brother and I know either of you are… Unstable, much less to have any type of relationship with the other.”

 Damian almost protested, but his reply died in his throat. Because this was another thing Grayson might be right about if he didn’t lack information or common reasoning.

The fact that Todd was a crazy with very violent tendencies was not a secret, but it was true he had improved a lot in controlling himself and the pit rage over time; And regarding Tim, his severe depression and anxiety were also not a secret, you only have to have eyes, but like Jason, he seemed to deal with it better, especially with the right support and setting. The image of them Grayson was relying on to judge the whole thing was not only old but distorted on his part.

 “You have no fucking idea, so do us all a favor and stop talking.” Jason sentenced, more defensive than ever.

 “I know-“ Dick tried to keep explaining.

 “You don’t know anything, Dick.” Said Tim, again in that icy and sharper tone. “Nothing.”

 Somehow, Tim’s harsh coldness seemed to affect him much more, causing him to shake his head and look at them stunned, as if he couldn’t understand why they didn’t listen to him or understand what he wanted to say when he supposedly wanted to protect them.

 Damian had no doubt that was Grayson’s goal, after all, to protect them, from themselves and each other. But didn’t he realize it wasn’t necessary? Robin had been around those nights when Red Hood didn’t use real bullets or refused to be lethal, when Red Robin was persuaded to go to sleep or rest, and during some breakfast without capes after. He could say that part of Garyson’s reasoning was based in past events that had lost value today.

 They should have, right? Because if not, what about him?

 Swallowing the lump in his throat and wanting to ignore that unpleasant and accusatory feelings that flooded him, he tried to speak at last, when another voice, much lower than his and already known, knocked them all down.

 “What’s going on here?”

 All of the Robins straightened up instantly, glancing at the door where Batman himself were standing impassively and firmly. No one had noticed his presence, nor how long he had been there. A defeated sigh and murmured curses were heard, the heated and aggressive atmosphere that surrounded them turned again in an uncomfortable and distressing silence. Damian felt he might start to sweat.

 Nobody moved, each of them carefully evaluating his options. Drake, despite his position on the bed, looked at the exits they would have available if they were too fast; Todd raised his head and looked at them defiantly, still close to Tim in an obstinate posture.

He didn’t blame them, if Grayson had reacted like that, being as stubborn as he was, his father was not going to be better.

 This wasn’t going to end well.

 “What’s going on?” Again, Batman asked with authority, making everyone shudder.

 They were too used to responding to that voice immediately. And he supposed it wasn’t pleasant to come back and find half of your kids yelling at each other, but Drake and Todd didn’t move, and Damian didn’t want to either, but he felt he should. He had been in conflict since he opened that door and saw his supposed older brother’s reaction to something he considered good.

 “Father- ”

 “Red Hood and Red Robin are compromised.” In the end, it was Nightwing who spoke, cutting off his chance to stop this.

 The first in fall apart, as always.

 The silence followed that was tense and suffocating again. The seconds Batman took to answer seemed like hours, and during that time Damian couldn’t help but wonder if Dick had referred to Tim and Jason as Red Hood and Red Robin because if he put the vigilante’s identities before his brother’s it was easy for him to behave like an asshole who doesn’t listen.

 “I see.”

 He doesn’t. Surely, he was as surprised as them, but trying not to show it. Supposedly he was the best detective in the world, but he had not been able to realize what was happening between his pupils until now.

 “For how long?”

 Silence.

 The last question was directed at the involved, but none of them seemed to want to give any details.

 Even Damian’s stomach was churning at this, and he didn’t blame Todd for frowning any further, because this interrogation made no sense, even to him, and even though it wasn’t the first time he doubted his father and brother’s actions, it was the first one in which he strongly disagreed.

 “I’m done.” Jason ended up saying before the second question were made. “We’re leaving.”

 Nodding, Tim leaned against the side of the bed and stood up, ready to follow him toward the exit, which was cut off by the other vigilantes. However, the following words stopped then in their steps.

 “No. Red Robin stays.”  The dark knight declared. “Red Hood is leaving.”

 Both looked at him astonished. Nightwing lowered his head.

 “What?” Tim asked, surely his head setting up a plan already.

 “You are hurt and compromised.” He told them directly, they weren’t even going to wonder how he had found out everything. “We will examine you and discuss the details of this matter tomorrow.”

 He said the last looking at Tim and the medical supplies were used earlier, but the way they reacted, as if they were going to knock them off at any moment, didn’t say anything good. Tim stepped back and Jason and covered him with his height, trying to attract the attention to him.

 “Don’t even dream about it, Bats.” The taller one growled. “We are leaving.”

 “Guys…” Dick pleaded.

“You can’t retain me.” Tim said firmly. He was right, there was no way to contain him in a place against his will, because he would end up destroying the place and turned it into ashes just to get out.

 “You shouldn’t worry unless you have something to hide.”

 The implication of those words made Damian almost yell at him with fury, angry at his father for real for the first time in his life.

 “What are you implying?” Tim asked, more puzzled at each moment. The initial defenses he had built in front of them at the beginning seemed to break down more and more, and it wasn’t a worth thing to see.

 “Hood has shown violent tendencies towards you for years, which he continues to direct towards others. Your mental health is unstable as well as a suspicious effort to hide your wounds for a long time.” Batman said impassively, agreeing with Nightwing. “We know how to recognize the symptoms of a potential abusive relationship, and since you don’t want to cooperate, we can’t let you go before we obtain more details.”

 Damian wanted to throw up.

 “How can you think something like that?” Said Tim seriously, his icy anger seeping into every word.

 The question rather was “How can you think something like that of us?” Because if someone here was aware of what an abusive relationship was and its consequences, was Jason, whom his violent father beat him after having knocked his mother up. Red Hood was feared among abusers for a reason, or he was the only one who knew that? Also, Tim had always had an unhealthy tendency to hide his wounds, even before he became Robin. The fact his father was relating everything to reach that conclusion and pretending he was objective, was even offensive.

 “I haven’t assumed anything.” He tried to reason, though there was no way to believe him. “But this information is sudden and suspicious, we need to have evidence and facts beyond your words to determine what to do.”

 With evidence, he was referring to Tim, and what he thought he was hiding under his suit. Which he didn’t seem very willing to share judging the way he walked a few steps away, determined.

 “You already have.” Jason replied. “And it doesn’t matter what we tell you, you’re going to assume and do whatever you want. As always, it’s your fucking style.”

 “Your background is not the best.” His father answered. It was amazing how he was treating the whole thing like a daily mission, rather than a revealed relationship. “You are not objective and your reaction to this only gives us more reasons to reaffirm it has to end.”

 Unfortunately, he was right about one thing. The firmly way of refusing to show Tim’s wounds or being examined, however exaggerated, was a proof that there was something they didn’t want them to see.

However, because the way Todd faced them, it seemed to want to protect him from it, it indicated more that it was something caused by someone else. What’s more, the simple idea Todd could hurt Drake again, after knowing the truth of their current relationship, shook him inside.

 “Your reasons are bullshit.”

 “Little wing, you’re not helping…” Said Dick, thinking he would calm him.

 “Don’t call me that!” Jason shouted enraged. At this point, it was such a win he didn’t resort to violence. And how did his father and Grayson not noticed how much Todd improved when he could perfectly shoot them for this years ago?

 “We do it for the good of both of you.” Bruce said again, really convinced.

 “You want to force us to break up!”

 “Please, Tim, just let us check up tonight’s wound at least.” Dick said then, focusing in the other, taking a step closer to them.

 “Get away!” Jason shouted defensively, making him stand still.

 “We are worried!” The first Robin said.

 “You are being irresponsible and a danger to yourself and others in the field.” Batman declared again in that authoritative voice they were supposed to obey.

 “You two can stick your concern and the field in your asses.” Todd spat scornfully. “Do you even listen to yourself when you speak?”

 “I’m yours-”

 Neither was sure what Bruce was going to say exactly, but whatever it was they wouldn’t have been pleased under these circumstances.

Despite this, Damian didn’t even have time to think about it, or that or anything in general, because while they were still arguing, he instinctively focused on Drake, who had quietly retreated to lean on the edge of the bed and remained in an unusual silence with his head down, without apparent intention to intervene.

 “You’re nothing!” Jason cut Bruce up again. “Just a fucking hypocrite, you say we are a danger out there, but when it comes to you and Catwoman isn’t?”

 “Jason!” Dick exclaimed.

 Tim was vert quiet. Too much, right from the start, especially when his sharp sarcasm was what he used to stand out the most when he was deep in an argument. But now, even with Selina Kyle being mentioned, she hadn’t even flinched.

Damian swallowed, tried to ignore the screams around him, and looked at Tim carefully, still lying down on the mattress’s side and having raised a hand to rest on his forehead. Something was off.

 “What, hypocrite number 2? Do you want me to remind all the dangers you had in the field?” Jason continued, his anger more than palpable and lashing out at everything he had. Even if he couldn’t attack physically, he’s still fearsome. “You are just making excuses, but I repeat you’re nothing for us now, you cannot tell us what to do.”

 “Enough.” Bruce said sternly. “Leave. It’s impossible to reason with you in this state.”

 Damian looked at Tim more closely. The way he cringed on the mattress and struggled to hide his presence in the background, as if he wanted to be unnoticed; His hand on his face didn’t move, but his breathing was heavy, his posture didn’t indicate that he was suffering any pain or discomfort; His head was down, he couldn’t catch his expression, couldn’t see his eyes, but there was something…

 “Stop it.” Damian whispered in realization.

 “I’m not going to move! You never gave a shit about us, and suddenly this?”

 “Jason, that’s not true.” Dick complained, exasperated.

 The discussion continued; his words weren’t heard.

 “You’ve been years without knowing anything from us!”

 “It’s not like that!”

 “Stop it.” Damian repeated, this time a little louder.

 “No? You only want to play the perfect family when you need us in the fucking crusade.”

 “What? No!”

 “Of course not! After all, you’re the golden child, who has not been discarded as trash.” He said to Grayson feigning a compassionate tone. “But it’s all a lie, like him, all you know is how to discard the unworthy toys after they fail.”

 That broke Damian inside, and made Tim gasp.

 “STOP IT!”

 That scream was what finally ended it all.

 Damian didn’t know he was going to scream so loudly, but all he was certain was that he felt like he was going to explode at any moment, and he didn’t like seeing Drake cry. Because he had never seen him shed a single tear, never, ever. Despise everything he had done to him, everything he had said, everything he knew he had lived through. Not once, until now. The implication that all of this could get him reach that point made him want to scream at his brother and father non-stop, a sense of need of protection had arisen him without realizing it.

 The argument was instantly finished, leaving behind shaky breaths, the natural sound of the cave behind them, and Tim’s almost silent sobs, which he struggled to hide as if his life depended on it.

 He could feel the confusion and guilt of everyone in waves, as well as the indecision of not knowing what to do or how to continue this. Neither seemed to want to change their minds, some wanted to leave and be together, and others wanted them to stay and break up. Grayson seemed to be restraining himself so as not run where the third Robin was and comfort him, also moderating himself because Todd hadn’t moved yet from his place, covering the smallest vigilante even if everything in him indicated how much he wanted to turn around and calm him.

 Damian shook his head, almost defeated. Too many emotions flooding him in the moment, none of them good. Some things said in the argument resonated strongly in his mind, causing the confidence he had built at the beginning of the night to collapse like a sandcastle. He couldn’t even let go of the fact he had frozen from the start, like he was a beginner on his first mission, unable to react. He wanted to refute so many things, all of them, to tell them half of what they thought was not true, what they wanted to do wasn’t the right thing even if they think otherwise.

 “Robin, to your room.”

 That order cut the silence like a sharp knife.

 “No.” He instantly refused.

 He couldn’t go, not like that. They couldn’t leave him out of this like he was still a child.

 “Robin.” Batman repeated more seriously than ever, as if giving him an ultimatum.

 He didn’t move.

 At least he didn’t plan to do it. He wanted to say many things, everything he hadn’t been able to during the argument. What they knew, what they didn’t, where they were wrong, what they had made wrong, good and the bad decisions.

But then, he raised his look and his eyes met with Tim’s across the room, watery and red, but shining in determination. His hand on the mattress that he could see form his position moved, giving him Titan’s own directions to communicate with him in secret.

 “It’s okay. Go. I’m sorry.”

 He looked at Jason, who still impassive, narrowed his eyes at him.

 For some reason, they didn’t want him to get involved.

 Damian took a step, then another, another and yet another, his ankle throbbing in pain, but ignored it. Before he knew it, he was running into the manor, straight to his room, wearing Robin’s uniform despite Alfred’s strict policy and ignoring the pain in his joint, because there were things that hurt him more right now.

Even the loud slamming of the door didn’t help to clear his mind, as he was still assimilating the facts and claims he had heard down there. He leaned his back against the door and tried to breathe deeply, but he couldn’t, he was drowning, he was sinking, everything hurt, he didn’t feel his ankle. Damian ended up sitting on the floor with the weight of the words increasing more and more on him.

 “He tried to kill you.” “You’re a murderer.” “We cannot trust you.” “Dangerous.” “Not okay.” “Can’t be healthy.”

 Beyond the sound of his heavy breathing, the pounding of his heart and Grayson’s voice running through him and hammering his head, he heard the predetermined melody of his phone, ringing near him.

 “Abusive relationship.” “It has to end.” “Irresponsible.” “A danger in the field.”

 His phone continued to ring. He knew who it was, he had promised to call him after all. Just like the other nights.

 “Play the perfect family.” “Just like him.” “Throw away the unworthy toys.”

 He ignored that call and the following ones. Just shrugged on himself and didn’t move until next morning.

 By then his brothers were already gone.

[pandawritespoorly]

With Time: Chapter 19 - Some Guy With Knives

Author’s Note: Oh boy! I hope you guys like how I did this! No akuma reference slide for this chapter, mostly because my 'design' for the akuma is basically summed up in the title. I'll be back Saturday as usual with even more excitement!

Chapter Summary: Ladybug is too tired to remember much about the akuma, but given his tendency to throw sharp objects, our super duo is going to need some help.

First | Previous | Next

“Bug?” Chat looks down at the heroine laying on his lap.

She doesn’t respond, her breathing even. It snowed for the first time last week, and Ladybug is fully in hibernation mode. Being outside for patrol isn’t going to keep her any more awake.

He’d like to talk to her though, and for that she does kind of need to be conscious. He nudges her gently, speaking a little louder, “Ladybug.”

She blinks her eyes open for a moment, then screws them shut, curling closer to him. 

“Ladybug, come on, I have to talk to you.” He gently shakes her shoulder, “Just a quick thing, then you can go home.”

“I don’ wanna’...” She speaks slowly and slurred with fatigue, “‘re warm…”

“I’m sure being inside would be warmer.”

She shakes her head.

“Are you awake enough for a conversation?” Typically she can make it through the day pretty okay. Not quite awake - but alert enough and able to contribute in attacks. They had an attack earlier though, and with her still slightly favoring one hand she is entirely spent. If being near him makes her more awake, he can only imagine what it’s like in her everyday life.

“Def-in-ly…” She seems very sure, but he only raises an eyebrow. The light snowfall probably isn’t helping her.

“Sure. I’ll pretend that was more convincing.”

She sticks her tongue out in retort, only to flinch and frown when a snowflake has the audacity to land on it.

“Do you have any ideas on new miraculous holders? It’d probably be best to know before they’re needed. We’re going to need help considering that it’s winter.”

“...sorry…”

“What are you sorry for?” Has she had trouble choosing? That’s no problem, they already agreed they’d go to Chloe.

“Bein’ useles’...” She says it so matter-of-factly. He’s taken aback. She’d been doing better recently, something must have happened. He can only guess it has something to do with her sprained wrist.

She ‘fell’. As if.

“Oh, Bug, no. What makes you say that?” He’s been trying to remember Claude’s tips, instead of just telling her that she’s wrong.

Despite being entirely exhausted, her face is easy for him to read, and he doesn’t like the way she looks at him as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“...don’ do any’thin…”

“You do lots! You figure out how to use the Lucky Charms, and you comfort the victims afterwards. You’re leading by example - it’s part of why there isn’t much bias against akuma victims.”

She shakes her head, “...could do bett’r…”

“How’s that?”

“...less tires...be fast’r…”

“You can’t help how tired you are. You still do incredibly well even despite your tendencies. We work as fast as we can, but it’s hard work, we can’t help if it takes longer than people want. We aren’t perfect. I mean, look at me-”

She glares at him, “You‘re great hero… be nice to you self.” She seems to have put extra effort into making sure her message got across.

He smiles, “Only if you’re nice to you.”  He understands that there’s a difference between being critical and being hateful. He’d like to draw her back over to the right side.

She frowns at this, as if she’s considering it, but remains unconvinced. It’ll take time, he’s just glad she’s considering it.

“You can head home now, m’lady.” He begins to shift slightly so that they can get up, but she only hugs him tighter.

“Nooo! ‘re warm!”

“Another five minutes, but you do need to sleep in an actual bed. You’ll be warm, I promise.”

She looks at him with big eyes, “...’ll miss you…”

“I’ll miss you too, Bugaboo.” He brushes her hair out of her eyes. He looks forward to the day when he can see her beautiful face without a mask.

For now though, he watches her rest. Once their time is up, he wakes her up carefully, making sure she descends the tower safely before he returns to his house.

---

Ladybug really doesn’t like this akuma. It had interrupted her sleep. Not that she hadn’t been sleeping a lot, but still. It’s the principle of the matter.

It didn’t help that this certainly isn’t the type of fight that is forgiving towards having slower reflexes. She can’t even remember its name, the only thing that really matters is it’s inclination towards throwing sharp things. Forks, pins, scissors, knives. 

With her fight-or-flight response seemingly beginning to lean more toward ‘freeze’ for whatever reason, she isn’t really well-suited for this fight. It’s been almost an hour, and the heroes have been lucky that they haven’t been hit badly.

As she thinks that, she slips slightly and gets nicked by a pin, drawing blood across her cheek. She doesn’t really register it - her mind too tired and wanting to sleep. 

Her partner curses, hopping to her side, “We should back off.”

She frowns, unable to think of a clear reason why, “Why?”

“This isn’t the place for a conversation, come on.”

She turns to him, following him a few rooftops away.

“Are you okay?” He looks at her cut in concern. His hand hesitates just in front of it, looking at it carefully.

“Wha’?” Too many things are going on, her brain can’t keep up. Why can’t she go to sleep again?

“You got hit.” He deems her cut to be non-threatening, backing off slightly. “I think we should get help.”

“Okay?” This is all very confusing.

He notices her confusion, sighing, “How are you holding up? This has been our longest fight since winter began, and there’s a lot of moving.”

“Cold.” sagging as she speaks. Snowflakes beginning to delicately fall around them, “Sleepy.”

He smiles at her softly, “See? Help would be nice. If you don’t have anyone in mind, we can use Chloe - Venom would be useful here.”

“...right…”

“You can go to Fu’s, his place will probably be warmer which would help you a little. I’ll wait for you here.”

She nods, heading in the direction of the Guardian’s house. 

When she arrives, he lets her in immediately. He doesn’t comment on her drowsiness, Tikki takes the chance to nap on her head - lucky.

Fu puts the miracle box in front of her, “Choose wisely.” He’s short and to the point - knowing better than to trust a winter-ladybug’s attention span.

She nods, staring at the miraculouses. Her brain takes a moment to register which is which. Which one is she supposed to take again?

The bee. Right.

She grabs it, putting it in a box and thanking Fu on her way out. She stands on the roof for a moment. She knows she can go to Chloe, but she really wants a clean transition. 

She wants someone new, but who?

She needs someone who has the traits of a hero and will mesh well with the bee miraculous in particular.

Someone she can trust.

Someone comes to her mind.

--- 

She knocks on the window, the girl looks up from her desk, doing a double take when she sees Ladybug outside the window. She hurries to open it.

“Ladybug?! Is something wrong?”

“Allegra Coudriet, this is the Bee Miraculous, which grants you the power to immobilize your opponent. You will use it for the greater good, and when the job is done you will return it to me. Do you accept?”

The braided girl took a moment to recover from the shock, “Me? Are you sure?”

Ladybug nods,”Chat and I have put more time into deciding our back-up heroes, and their qualifications. I am sure.” Does she sound awake enough for something this serious? She’s certainly trying.

“Okay. I’ll do this.” Allegra puts the pin into her hair, and Pollen appears, startling the girl, “Um, hi?”

“Hello, my queen! My name is Pollen. Are you ready to be a hero?”

Allegra nods, looking a little overwhelmed.

“It’s simple, say ‘buzz on’ to transform, and ‘buzz off’ to detransform. When you say ‘venom’ you will activate your special power, and can freeze anyone you touch. Once you have activated this power, you will have five minutes before you detransform. The comb will keep track of this for you.”

“That’s… a lot. I think I get it though!” Allegra says.

“Your top will have a user’s manual, and Ladybug and Chat Noir can help lead you.” The Kwami glances at the spotted heroine sympathetically, “Likely Chat Noir more than Ladybug, this time of year.”

Ladybug nods lethargically. Her stamina for ‘perfectly-normal-and-not-at-all-tired’ is running low.

“Ready, my queen?”

Allegra nods, determined, “Pollen, buzz on!”

A yellow glow overtakes the girl, and when it fades, a new heroine stands in her place. Her suit is a different yellow from Chloe’s, more honey-colored though still clearly yellow. The black is slightly browner, and is mostly absent from her upper half.

Her arms and shoulders are entirely yellow, with five stripes across her midsection, like a musical staff. Her feet are black, and a black line runs up the outside of each leg, branching off at her knee, where it splits into two stripes that curl around the back of her leg. Her mask covers more of her face, stretching from her forehead to the tip of her nose. There is a black outline along the top of her eyes, and a single black stripe going through her braid, which is slightly longer and ends in a similar shape to her spinning top.

She looks at herself, inspecting the outfit, then looks to Ladybug, “What now?”

“Chat is waiting for us, follow me.” Ladybug leads her out the window, watching her as she adjusts to swinging by the roofs.

They arrive at the rooftop that she last saw Chat at. 

“Welcome back, Bug.” He sees the unfamiliar heroine with her.

“Chat, this is… what should we call you?” She turns to the girl.

She hesitates, thinking carefully then says, “Honey Bee.” “Well, I bee-leive you will be of great help to us. My Lady isn’t exactly meant for long fights in the cold.”

The two glance at the heroine in question, who is sagging slightly. Such a long time of keeping up the ‘awake-and-alert’ charade really wore on her.

“Do you know how your powers work?” Chat asks Honey.

“I think so. Uh.. Pollen explained it quickly?” She’s hesitant.

“Okay, that’s good enough. Basically, Ladybug and I will distract the akuma, and when I give the signal, you need to hit him with Venom, so that we can grab the akumatized object and finally get this over with.”

Ladybug slumps further, on track for the ground, but he catches her.

“Is she okay?!” Honey Bee sounds alarmed. Parisians know of Ladybug’s tiredness in the winter, but the full extent of it has been kept from them.

“She’s fine. Just, uh, very tired. She shouldn’t be outside in the cold this long.” He begins waking her slightly, “Change of plans, I will distract the akuma, and we’ll get the akumatized object to Ladybug or vice-versa when the fight is over. She can stay here.”

Honey nods, determined. Chat sets Ladybug down carefully, reminding her to stay awake, and they head back to the akuma, Honey stays out of sight when they arrive.

---

“Honey Bee, now!” Chat gives the signal, and the new heroine, rushes forward.

“Venom!” Once the stinger makes contact, the victim freezes in place.

Chat swipes the object from him, turning to Honey, “Let’s get this to Ladybug.”

They find her where they left her, struggling to remain awake.

Chat crouches in front of her, “Hey, Bug, fight’s over.”

She nods, standing unsteadily, and waiting for her cue. He breaks the object, releasing the butterfly. Ladybug cleanses the butterfly and performs the cure, healing the cut on her face along with the rest of the damage the akuma caused.

“Well, I’ll be on my way. Welcome to the team, Honey Bee.” Chat salutes as the trio breaks from their ‘pound-it’ and turns to go.

“Wait!” He turns to Honey questioningly, “Don’t you have to know who I am?”

He blinks, “No? It’s a secret identity.”

“But I’m a temporary hero, one you come to for back-up. What if Ladybug can’t come to get me? Or if she can’t tell you who I am and you need me?”

“That’s… a fair point. I hadn’t considered that. It��s your identity, I guess you can tell me if you want.”

Ladybug has been standing and blinking at them slowly. She doesn’t give any protests, so Honey says, “Pollen, buzz off!”

Allegra stands in her place, and Chat shakes off his momentary surprise at seeing someone familiar, and feigns ignorance, “Hey, it’s you! One of Mari’s friends… Allegra was it?

Allegra smiles, and nods, “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Well, welcome to the team.”

“I’m honored to have been chosen.”

Ladybug doesn’t seem to have taken much of this in, barely present to begin with. She takes out the box to return the miraculous when Chat takes it from her.

“You go home, Bug. I can return this.” Ladybug nods, waving goodbye and swinging home. He turns to Allegra, “Can you get home on your own, or do you need a ride?”

She hands the miraculous to him, “I’ll be fine on my own. If it starts storming or something I have a phone.”

He nods, waving as he jumps away.

---

The next day, the group is having lunch in the library. It’s quieter and easier for Marinette to rest. Not that much can keep her from sleeping at this point, but it’s less crowded and her friends feel she’s better off in here.

The girl in question is resting on Allegra. Typically she would choose Claude (he’s warmest - second only to Adrien), but he was later today and Marinette didn’t feel like putting in the effort to move.

“Did you guys see the attack yesterday? With the new hero?” Allegra asks nonchalantly.

“... like ‘er… seem nice…” Marinette mumbles, happy with her effort when Allegra seems to glow.

“I thought she seemed really cool!” Claude says excitedly.

“Certainly more professional than Queen Bee. I will be interested to see her fight more.” Felix approves.

“She seemed friendly. She seemed t’ get along with Chat pretty well. Must’ve been exciting.” Allan says.

“If you guys could be a hero, would you? I would!” Claude’s immediate answer to his own question is a surprise to no one.

“It could be fun, I would at least try it.” Allan says.

“For sure.” Allegra agrees.

“It seems like quite the commitment. Having to interrupt your daily life at the whim of Hawkmoth. There would be a lot of pressure from the press too. I think that at this point in my life, I would not be interested. Perhaps when I have finished school.” Felix points out. Marinette nods in agreement.

“I think that despite that, for me the pros would outweigh the cons.” Allegra explains. Claude and Allan nod in agreement.

“Do ya’ think they get a chance to practice? Or are they jus’ thrown into battle?” 

“It seems like it would be beneficial to give them a chance to practice.”

Marinette considers this at the back of her mind. She’ll have to talk to Chat and Fu, Allan and Felix have a point. The conversation moves on, but Marinette tunes out. She’s just so exhausted. She had to be outside for an hour yesterday. It was cold. It was snowing. It was not fun.

Honey Bee did well though. It feels nice to know she didn’t mess that decision up. She slips into a gentle sleep as her body gives into the cold.

--- 

“M’lady, you really don’t have to come on patrols. Especially after how long you were out yesterday.” Chat glares disapprovingly at his sluggish partner, crossing his arms.

“Had… an idea…” She looks at him sideways, without enough energy to properly hold her head upright.

“You couldn’t have transformed at home and texted me?” She’s barely standing.

“... oh yeah.” That option has only occurred to her now that Chat suggested it.

“Well, you’re here now. What is it?” He can’t be mad at her for long. He’s less mad and more worried anyways.

“Wha’ if… we bring Honey… on patr’l…? Pract’ce?” She’s trying to convey this as best she can.

“You want to bring Honey Bee on patrol so she can practice using her miraculous? That’s a pretty good idea. Is she for sure our new bee holder? I thought she did well.”

Ladybug nods, then falls forward, tripping over her feet to correct herself. Chat grabs her shoulders, propping her up.

“You sure you should be out?”

“Mhm.” 

“Okay…” He sounds doubtful, “I’ll go to Fu, you wait by her place.”

---

Allegra is still up, and readily agrees to attend patrol as practice.

“Where’s Ladybug? Is she doing okay?”

“She’s fine. Maybe we should explain the miraculous to you a little better.”

They head to the roof. Ladybug is slumped in a corner completely asleep, he heads over to her, pulling her into his lap and hugging her close so that she’ll wake up some.

Honey sits next to them, glancing at the heroine.

“I’m sure you’re aware that Ladybug slows down a little during the winter?”

She nods, “Yeah, everyone knows that.”

“We knew we wouldn’t be able to keep that from people, but we have tried to avoid letting on just how much. We’re heroes - weaknesses need to be kept under wraps and all that.” He unconsciously plays with her hair a little as he continues, “When you use a miraculous for long enough, there are… side effects.”

“It’s not hurting her is it?!” Honey is alarmed.

“No, no. The user takes on traits of the animal their miraculous is based off of. I purr, and have better night vision and hearing. There’s quite a few actually. Ladybug has several too, but the biggest one is that ladybugs hibernate in the winter.” He sees the understanding dawn on Honey’s face.

“The colder she is, the more likely she is to fall asleep, and the more tired she gets. If it’s pretty far into winter or too cold for too long, ladybug-instincts might take over. It happened for a moment last year. All human reason and common sense are out the window. Full ladybug. That was fun.”

At Honey’s questioning look, he elaborated, “It’s hard to convince her that you can lead her somewhere warmer when she’s convinced that sleeping with a bunch of actual ladybugs will solve everything. I had to carry her away after she fell asleep.”

Honey smiles at the still-sleeping girl, “So she’s fine then? Just tired? She reminds me of my friend.”

Chat nods, now that she’s pointed it out, Marinette and Ladybug react to the cold pretty similarly, “Yep, she’s fine. She likes body-heat. Actually, my miraculous makes me a little warmer in the winter to balance her out. Magic balances out magic so she’s most awake with me.”

“Wha?” Right on cue, Ladybug has opened her eyes and blinks blearily at them.

“Hey Bugaboo.” 

“Hi Ladybug.”

She just blinks at them, not quite comprehending.

“Alright. We should probably have you actually practice. My Lady, would you like to go home, or are you just going to be reckless with your health and safety as usual?”

Honey raises an eyebrow at the wording, wondering just how often Ladybug does something like this.

“Doin’ patrol…” She stands shakily.

Honey looks at Chat, muttering under her breath, “Is this a good idea?”

“Eh… It’s not ideal, but she’ll make it about three blocks before she realizes I’m right. Consider it practice in keeping an eye on her. If we do call you in during the winter again, we’ll have to keep an eye on her a little.”

He’s right of course. They don’t make it far before she stumbles, Honey catching her carefully. Chat comes over to them, used to this conversation at this point.

Ladybug never believes she’s allowed to take a break. Being a hero doesn’t mean working herself to death, but she doesn’t seem to realize that.

“Ladybug. Do you know what time it is?”

“...night?”

“What I think he meant, is that it’s time for you to go home.” Honey concurs.

“It’s two to one, majority rules.”

Ladybug scrunches up her face, taking a moment to process this, “...no, ‘m fi-” She’s cut off by a yawn.

“See?”

Ladybug submits, nodding and swinging home. When she slips into her trapdoor, she burrows under the blankets. Releasing her transformation, Tikki flies out and snuggles against her chosen. The cold pulls them into sleep.

---

Author’s Note: Soooo... thoughts? Allegra with the bee? (peachgreentea you got it!) I apologize that I accidently left you all at a slight disadvantage by failing to mention that I won't be using the zodiac miraculouses in this fic (several reasons, for one I haven't really seen most of season 3 so I barely know anything about them, and two I feel like they're almost too powerful? The Ladybug and Black Cat are supposed to be the most powerful and then we've got actual time travel? I have nothing huge against them or their characters though - just going to stick to the main seven in With Time). Anyways, reference slide here! I'm sorry for my poor design skills. I don't know what I'm doing, but I tried. It doesn't help that Google Slides is not for creating designs.

As for my reasoning with this? Well it took a while. I'm sure I'm not the only one well aware that Allegra is typically given the fox (as a concept character she fought with a flute so that makes sense), but I took weeks to dwell on this. I started thinking up this fic in late July. I (somewhat) finalized my decisions for who got what sometime in August (finally settled it around the time I actually started writing - late September). I flip-flopped between the bee and fox for her for a while though. I like both so much! However I went with personalities (mostly) to determine the final decision eventually. The personality I'd been developing for her just felt so much more like a bee to me. Melodie also had a yellow suit, so like.... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Anyways, I'm happy with my final decision and I hope you like it too!

Fun fact! In early stages of this, I thought of her as ‘Melo-bee’. I always knew it wouldn’t be a serious name, but it made me smile everytime.

Next chapter will be Saturday! I've very excited. It marks a first for Adrien (something you may not have even noticed was missing, but was a very deliberate choice on my part from the very beginning). 

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave any thoughts, theories, constructive criticism, or anything really in my ask box, in replies or through reblogs. I love seeing what you think!

(P.S. No, I did not spend all of July-September making this decision. I may be bad at decision making, but I'm not that bad. It was an off and on thing. I did spend plenty of time on it though. I wanted to be satisfied with my decision because it would have an impact on the story and everything I have planned after it.)

(P.P.S. I feel like I should have said this a long time ago, but if you're ever here early (like really, really early, and the links don't work, then just give me a minute. Any chapter with reference slides is a little extra effort because I have to post the chapters (on two separate platforms) then the slides, then open the slides' post and link it in each platform's version of the chapter. It doesn't take me that long, but if you do get here that early, just wait a moment and refresh the page - you should be good to go.)

First | Previous | Next

[whisperingoffwhitepinstripes]

Colliding With Fate Part 2

Hey guys..... I'm finally back with part 2..... I don't know how many parts this is gonna be but we'll see how things play out.

Special shout out to @i-think-im-ready-to-go for reminding me and motivating me to come back to this....💙💙💙💙

So, here we go.....

|--------|

You sigh, biting your lip, “It’s my first time in LA, actually. I'm actually here on vacation.”

Looking genuinely interested, Brendon asks where you’re from. You inform him that you live in the New England area but you grew up in the South. “Ahh,” he responds thoughtfully, “I thought I detected a bit of Southern twang in there.” Blushing, your nervous habit of twirling a bit of your hair around your finger comes out.

“You said that I was one of your favorite people? I take it that means you're a fan of my band?” He finally asks halfway through the meal.

“I actually just went to my first Panic show back in January. But, I've been a fan since ‘Fever’.”

The two of you spend the rest of the meal asking each other questions. He asks about what you thought of the show and your favorite song from each album. You ask him about songwriting and performing. Before you know it, two hours had passed and it was almost 10 pm.

“Wow, it's getting late.” You remark with a yawn, glancing at your watch for the first time since he bumped into you. Brendon shrugs, stating that's it's not too late. “Ahh, but you're forgetting that I'm still on East coast time. It feels like 1 a.m. to me.”

“Well, it was really nice getting to meet you and hang out and thanks for dinner. You really didn't have to.” You go to lift yourself out of the booth and put pressure on your foot but you immediately slump back into your seat, wincing.

Brendon opens his mouth to ask if you're sure you're okay, but you hold up your hand. “I'm fine. I promise.” You make a second attempt to get to your feet, but it’s futile. “Okay, stop.” Brendon places his hand over yours. “I can tell that you're used to taking care of yourself, and it's super commendable, but, please, let me help you.”

You hang your head in defeat. “Okay, fine. Let's go to the emergency room.” Brendon grins as he pulls his phone out. “Well, don't look too happy about it.” you retort, wincing from trying to shift the weight off of your injured hip.

He shakes his head as he pulls up the Uber app on his phone, “No, no, no, you misunderstand me. I just thought it would take a lot more convincing to get you to accept my help.”

“Oh,” you reply sheepishly. You watch in silence as his fingers fly over the screen. They looked so soft for someone who played guitar. You had several friends that were musicians and their fingertips were calloused from honing their craft. Yet, here was this, in your humble opinion, musical genius whose fingers should be loaded with calluses from playing guitar for hours and hours, but his look like he hasn't done a day of hard labor in his life.

A few minutes later, he stands and moves to stand in front of you. Reaching out to you, he helps you to your feet. Noting how much of your weight you were putting on your good leg, he stops you. All of a sudden, the musician has bent over and scoops you up bridal style. Gasping, you demand to know what he's doing. Shrugging, he tells you, “I just figured this way would be the easiest to your hip.”

As Brendon makes his way through the bar, you hear a couple of people make comments.

“Awe. How sweet.”

“They look so cute.”

You go to say something, but at that moment Brendon has to step down, and it jostles your hip, causing a sharp pain to shoot down your leg. You gasp at the pain and bury your face into the musician’s neck. He stops in his tracks. “Oh, shit. I'm sorry, you okay?”

After a moment of him standing still, the pain ebbs away a little. “Just hurts….really bad.” You finally confess.

“Why didn't you say something earlier?” He scolds as he gingerly continues towards the waiting Uber.

Blushing, you quietly say, “What would the odds be of ever having dinner with you again, realistically? Of ever seeing you again besides me in the crowd at one of your shows? If this didn't happen?” You give him a moment to think it over. “Exactly. Slim to none. So, I figured I could endure a little pain for that experience.”

He gapes at you, “‘A little pain? You can't put any weight on that hip!” He shakes his head as he walks toward the door. After thanking the guy who is holding the door open so he could get out without bumping you into the door frame, Brendon starts toward the waiting car. The Uber driver saw Brendon carrying you towards the car and jumps out to open the back door. “Hey, is she okay?” the driver asks with concern in his voice.

“I'm fine,” you start before the man who was carrying you cut in.

He explains that you are hurt but it isn't life threatening, and he would appreciate it if he would hurry and for his discretion. It's then that the driver recognizes who he’s speaking to. “Of course, Mr. Urie.”

Once you are both settled into the back seat, the driver takes the quickest route to the hospital that Brendon requested. You wince every time the car hits a bump in the road. “Hey,” Brendon says to get your attention. He places his left hand over your right and squeezes gently. “It's gonna be okay.” He gives you a small smile and it warms your heart. He's being so sweet to you and he really doesn't have to be. You hit another bump, and the driver notices you wincing in the rearview mirror. He apologizes profusely as he pulls into the covered bay entrance to the ER. “Wait here, gonna grab a wheelchair,” he tells you as he leaps out as soon as the car stopped. The driver met Brendon at your door to help you out and into the wheelchair. “Thanks so much for your help,” Brendon said, as he pays the driver and leaves a big tip. “It was my pleasure, besides it was awesome getting to meet you.” The two men shake hands, and as a parting gift, Brendon offers to sign something for him.

Two hours later, you're finally being seen by a doctor, and Brendon has never left your side. Now on your way to X-ray, just to make sure nothing is broken, you have to leave the celebrity behind in your room. Being alone for the first time since you got hurt, you take a second to collect your thoughts. You're probably going to have to cut your vacation short and go home because you're not going to be able to take care of yourself if you're seriously injured. You start thinking about all the calls you need to make to begin the process of going home early.

|-------|

“Well, nothing’s broken,” the doctor announces once the x-rays have been developed, “But, you did dislocate and bruised your hip, and you sustained a minor ankle sprain.” Great. You think, knowing that an ankle injury can put you out of commission for weeks. “Okay, I'm gonna put your hip back in place and then we'll splint your ankle so we can get you in your way. You know you're going to be basically bedridden for, at a minimum, the next couple days to a week. I know you said you were on vacation but I'm recommending no major travel until seven to ten days at a minimum.” You stopped listening when he said that he was going to put your hip back in place. You know that it's going to hurt really badly. Brendon grabs your hand, “Hey, I'm not going anywhere.” Just the feeling of your hand in his is comforting. “You got this.”

|----------|

Hopped up on pain meds and bone tired, Brendon rolls you to the receptionist. “Okay, do we have insurance?”

You start digging through your purse for your wallet when you see a credit card is handed to the receptionist. “Brendon, no…..”

“No, Y/n, it's my fault you're in this mess. I'll take care of it.” He said, the authoritative tone in his voice caught you off guard.

“Okay….” Between your exhaustion and the pain meds, you start dozing off.

“Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm taking care of everything.”

[ladyaragorn13]

Just A Little Sprain

A/N: Hey! I’m super new to writing fanfiction and I thought I would give it a shot. I tried to do a reader insert because these are one of my favourite kind of fics. Please be kind as it is my first time. Hope you guys enjoy!

Also, a special thank you to my beta @winchester-wannabe99 for your help and support. This fic would literally not be here without you.

Summary: A little accident leads to something you’ve only seen in your dreams.

Words: 1520

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Injury, low self-esteem, fluff

2 weeks earlier

--Y/N’s p.o.v.--

You had been living at the bunker for almost two years now and had just finished a hunt with Sam and Dean. The werewolf had been easily taken care of and the whole night had gone really well, if you excuse the fact that you had managed to badly sprain both ankles after the hunt was over. You had spectacularly fallen down each and every stair upon entry into the bunker.

You had writhed on the floor, gritting your teeth and clutching at your ankles to stop the pain. Tears were streaming down your face with no sign of stopping. You were just in so much pain.

Luckily, Sam and Dean were both in their rooms, saving you the embarrassment of them seeing you in this state. Who ever heard of a hunter being taken down by a flight of stairs? Nobody. Exactly.

You spent a few minutes trying to control your breathing. Slow and deep, in and out. Eventually, your breathing became as close to normal as it could. Pain violently throbbing in your already swollen ankles. You couldn’t just sit at the bottom of the stairs all day. You had to get to your room.

As slowly and carefully as possible, you rose to your feet, leaning on the wall. You aimed to put as little weight on your ankles as possible. Excruciating pain radiated throughout your entire body. You wanted to scream so badly, but you couldn’t let Sam and Dean find out, so you bit your lip, tasting blood.

Once upright, you slowly began to make your way down the hallway, leaning heavily on the wall and anything else you could find as support. The only sounds heard in the bunker were your harsh breaths and slow, shuffling footsteps.

A sweat had broken out on your body from the pain and exertion. Just the amount of focus required to remain upright was taking a toll. Light-headedness was beginning to set in, you must have hit your head on the stairs or you were going into shock. Either way, you had to hurry up.

You passed Sam’s room, trying to keep as quiet as possible. Suddenly a sneeze erupted from within the room, catching you off guard. Your head snapped towards Sam’s room, scared that he would see you in your state. You instantly became dizzy and lost your footing.

Your ankles erupted in the most intense pain you’ve ever felt and your vision went white. You think you screamed but you weren’t sure of anything anymore. You lost your grip on the wall and felt yourself falling. Your head hit the floor, the world slamming into black as you entered unconsciousness.

--Sam’s p.o.v.--

After arriving back at the bunker after the hunt, I headed to my room to unpack my duffle bag and rest. After unpacking, I decided to relax on my bed and read the lore book I was reading before we left.

It’s one of the oldest books from the library, covered in dust and cobwebs. Flipping through the pages, dust goes flying about the room. I can’t help it when it gets up my nose and I sneeze. Immediately after, I hear Y/N scream before something hits the floor with a thud.

I stealthily move to my door to investigate what happened. Slowly opening the door, I call out “Y/N? You alright?” there’s no response. I’m instantly more concerned.

Moving out of the room, I look left, seeing nothing new. I then look right and see…..Y/N sprawled on the floor, unmoving.

“Hey, Y/N?” I shouted, moving towards her still form. “Hey, Y/N wake up!” I cry, shaking her shoulder. Y/N’s not responding. What the hell happened to Y/N?

Present day

--Y/N’s p.o.v.--

Ever since you had knocked yourself out in the hallway, and been carried to your room, you had been forced to stay in bed to rest and ice your badly sprained ankles. Neither brother would let you walk anywhere, not that you wanted to, because you felt like your ankles would explode, judging by the amount of pain you were in. There was only one pain-free way for you to get around…

Piggyback rides.

Sam surprised you by volunteering to carry you anywhere in the bunker you wanted to go, but you weren’t complaining. It was a great way to spend more time with the man you secretly adored.

“SAAAAMMM! I GOTTA PEEEEEE!” Your scream echoed throughout the halls of the bunker. Sam sighed, shaking his head, lightly calling “Coming Y/N!” with a smile on his face.

Arriving at your door, Sam exaggeratingly bowed and said “My lady?” Putting on your best posh British accent, you acknowledged him “Ah, my chariot has arrived”.

Carefully turning on the bed, you slowly moved to the edge, but left enough room so Sam could sit in-between your legs. Sam made his way into your room, sat down on the bed and carefully lifted your legs over his hips.

You grabbed Sam’s shoulders and scooted closer to Sam’s body. Sam stood up, adjusting your position on his back. Once Sam had made his way out of your room, you pointed past him and still in your British accent announced “To the lavatory!” Sam laughed at your antics.

Upon reaching the bathroom, Sam carefully lowered you down so that you were sitting on the toilet. As Sam turned to leave the room, you grabbed his hand “Don’t go too far please?” you pleaded. “I’ll be just outside the door, ok sweetheart?” You instantly blushed and lowered your face so Sam couldn’t see it. “Thanks Sam,” you said quietly.

During your time in the bathroom, you reflected on all the favours Sam had done for you over the past couple of weeks. Whether it was getting him to carry you to the library so you could pick out a book to read or simply carrying you around the bunker so you could get out of your room for a while.

Sam did it every time you asked, without question or hesitation. It amazed you that he could be so selfless and caring. The realisation of how you had been treating him hit you like a tonne of bricks. Tears began pooling in your eyes. You were taking advantage of Sam and treating him like a slave. You had to put an end to your behaviour, be a big girl and take care of yourself.

You called for Sam to come in. Sam came straight in and began crouching in front of you before you stopped him “Wait, Sam..I..I can’t do this to you anymore,” you said sniffing and wiping away a stray tear.

“Hey, whoa. What are you talking about? What’s going on Y/N?” Sam had spun around, placing his hands on your upper arms. Your eyes were downcast, doing anything to avoid looking at Sam.

“I can’t keep doing this to you anymore,” tears running more freely now “I’m taking advantage of you and I’m sure you don’t want to keep coming to help the gimp get around when you definitely have better things to do,” you were nervously rambling now, “and I treat you like a slave and I know your probably sick of me and I would be sick of me by now an-”

“Y/N stop!” Sam interrupted your incessant rambling. “Do you honestly think I would want to be anywhere but here? Helping you?” Your eyes snapped up to meet Sam’s. Tears still poured as you softly said, “Even I wouldn’t be helping me, I’m not worth it”.

Sam cupped your cheeks and gently wiped away your tears with his thumbs, “Y/N, there is nowhere I’d rather be than with the girl I care about”. You were shocked “W-what?” You couldn’t understand why Sam would care about you. You were just an average girl. “I want to show you how much I care Y/N,” Sam said, slowly closing the distance between the two of you.

Your mind froze, what was happening? Sam was going to kiss you and you instantly starting freaking out about it, something you had only dreamed about for so long. Sam’s soft lips connected with yours and you went rigid with shock. Sam felt you tense, so he moved one hand to rest on your lower back and the other to the back of your neck. Once Sam had moved his hands, you slowly began to relax and enjoy the kiss, leaning into his touch.

After a few moments, Sam pulled away and looked at you. Your eyes were still closed, still caught up in the moment. “Did that really just happen?” you asked, unbelieving. Sam didn’t respond. You tentatively opened your eyes and looked directly at Sam who was watching you with such adoration. “It could happen more often, if you like?” said Sam with a smirk on his face. “I’d like that very much,” you said, your cheeks blushing. Sam grinned in response.

Who would have thought that your first kiss with Sam would happen on a toilet? You guess falling down the stairs really was a happy accident.

Tags: @winchester-wannabe99 @winchesters-favorite-girl @riversong-sam @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @mrspadalackles @obsessivecompulsivespn

[kpopstarsreact]

Monsta X Reaction #20 - Their s/o is extremely clumsy

anon asked: Can I request a reaction for Monsta X to their s/o being clumsy and getting injured a lot? :o (Im a prime example of clumsiness. Broke my leg a week ago by falling down the stairs...)

A/N: OMG ANON I REALLY HOPE THAT YOU’RE OKAY?!? I just fell down the stairs the other day and it really hurts but luckily I didn’t break anything. I’m so sorry you have to go through that TT.TT I hope this reaction brightens your day a little!!

Hyunwoo:  “...Jagi...? Where are you?”

He’d turn around in circles before finally hearing you say, “Down here Hyunwoo.. DOWN HERE!!”

“Baby what are you doing lying on the sidewalk??”

Your shoelace/heel had gotten caught in the drain pipe and you’d tripped and fell, spraining your ankle in the process.

Hyunwoo would be super worried and panicky on the inside, but his face would only show slight concern. If you had trouble walking he’d 100% carry you back to your place or to the doctors. The entire way. Without pause. He’s so worried he can’t breathe anyway so it doesn’t matter to him that he has to carry you because he’s just SO FREAKING WORRIED but you won’t know that until after the doctor sees you and he finally lets out a sigh of relief, admitting that he was completely spazzing out inside.

Hoseok: Hard core tease. You’d trip and face plant on the floor and without skipping a beat he’d be lying beside you and waving like the gif.

“Hey sunshine. I see you fell again. Are we drunk before noon again?”

You: “Shut the hell up Hoseok.”

And then he’d burst out laughing, poking your cheeks then helping you up. He’d giggle about that for the rest of the day. If you really hurt yourself though, he’d be so freaked out he’d bawl his eyes out while trying to help you and wouldn’t make fun of you until you healed again.

the rest is below the cut due to the length of the post (EVERY DAMN TIME KAT! I’m sorry I’m long-winded xD)

Minhyuk: Oh my goodness to this man you are simply the CUTEST THING EVER!! He would tease you all the time and as long as you didn’t hurt yourself more than a paper cut, he’d coo and fuss over you every time your clumsiness showed. He loved this trait because to him, it made you even cuter.

(but he’d be hard core worried af when you really hurt yourself like breaking something. He wouldn’t cry like Hoseok, but he’d tear up and be pacing in the doctors office waiting for someone to help you. He’d be caring and considerate and make sure you had everything you needed while you were waiting/as you were healing)

Kihyun: *YES I’M USING THIS GIF BECAUSE IT FITS AND I LOVE IT LMAO*

Oh Lord. Y’all are both so clumsy that it’s just sort of a constant parade of small cuts and scrapes. You both scold each other every time you get a small injury again, but you both also know you can’t exactly help it. You just worry.

Hyungwon: *you drop pans in the kitchen*

His head snaps up immediately in the direction of the sound. “Y/n????”

You: “I’m okay! I just dropped some pans but nothing hit me!”

“Omo, how are you like this?? I thought Kihyun was bad!”

You: “Stop making fun of me Hyungwon!”

“I’m not making fun of you. You just scare me when I can’t see you...”

Jooheon: It was hilarious to him until he was away from you on tour and you fell and broke your arm. You’d never hurt yourself hat badly by being clumsy before. Now, when he’s gone from you he always ends up thinking too much and gets paranoid that you’ve hurt yourself again (especially when he’s on tour). Expect texts checking up on you or even sometimes frantic calls when he’s had a bad feeling that you might have hurt yourself when he’s away from you more than a day or two

Changkyun: -your Hyungwon- He’d keep a constant eye on you. He’s always holding your hand, hugging your arm, or if he can’t touch you in some way he’s just super close to you. You know, to catch you in case you fall again.

You: “Babe you don’t have to pull me along when we cross the street like I’m a little kid. I won’t fall.”

“But you did last time and you almost got run over by a car that didn’t see you. So...”

You: “Damn it...okay.“

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Imagine Tony is separated from the team and badly injured during a fight with Hydra. Bucky, who hasn't yet been brought in from the proverbial cold, finds him and nurses him back to health, with Tony being his usual awful patient self. Once Tony's well enough, Bucky escorts him back to the Tower and moves in because he doesn't trust Tony to take care of himself. At all.

AN: I don’t know what happened, but this didn’t turn out anything like the way I planned. ^_^’

Tony wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened.

He remembered the before, easily enough; the discovery of the HYDRA base in Canada, and the meeting with the team about it afterwards. The decision to let Tony do a quick flyby for recon before the whole team went in, and then the actual flight to the base. After that, though, everything was a blurry, pain-and-agony filled blank…

Until waking up in a strange bed with the goddamn freaking Winter Soldier looming over him. Then there was yelling, more pain and agony, and a gentle, soothing voice telling Tony to breathe and to stop struggling, because he was going to pull his stitches.

Tony fought anyway, panic clawing up his throat, because the last time he’d woken up in a strange place on a strange cot with someone looming over him, said someone had been digging shrapnel out of a hole in chest. The memory made him claw at his chest, though he was stopped by arms that were too strong to be Yinsen’s, and the fact that his right arm wasn’t moving properly anyway.

“Shhh, you’re okay,” someone murmured, as something cool and hard touched Tony’s forehead. “Just relax and go back to sleep - the pain medicine should kick in soon.”

Tony wanted to protest, because there had never been any pain meds in the cave. Then he remembered he wasn’t in the cave, and realized the thing on his forehead was actually a hand, and -

Then he passed out again.

~

When Tony became aware of things the second time, he made more of an effort to remain calm, despite the fact that he seemed to be in the same bed he’d been in before.

It was a little harder to do, however, once he a) tried to move and realized both his right arm and leg were immobilized, and b) looked to the right and saw the Winter Soldier again, this time sitting in a chair right next to the bed.

“What the fuck,” Tony gasped, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

The Soldier furrowed his brow and leaned forward, making Tony tense until he realized he was reaching for the side-table next to the bed and not Tony. When he leaned back, there was a cup in his hand.

“Do you think you can drink if I help you, or do you want me to get some more ice?” the Soldier asked, scooting closer to the bed and holding out the cup.

Tony stared at him. Then it registered that Soldier was actually talking to him, and he opened his mouth - only to realize how dry it felt.

“Water,” Tony choked, and tried to sit up, only to wince and fall back against the pillows. Then the Soldier was there, sliding an arm around Tony’s back and gingerly helping him to sit up, the cup carefully tilted towards Tony’s lips. Tony got three good swallows in before the cup was taken away and he was gently pushed back against the pillows, which would have pissed Tony off more if his back hadn’t been screaming at him to lay down again anyway.

“Okay, let’s try this again,” Tony said, after a few deep breaths through his nose. He turned his head and glared at the Soldier, who didn’t seem the least bit fazed by the expression. “What. The. Fuck?”

The Soldier cocked his head, then set the cup down. “Are you hungry? I have some broth simmering on the stove,” he said, which was still not an answer to Tony’s question.

Tony scowled, which pulled at the sore skin above his right eye and made his face hurt. “I don’t think you heard me. I said -”

“‘What the fuck’, yeah, I know, I heard you the first time,” the Soldier said patiently. “Hungry, yes or no?”

“I don’t want food,” Tony snapped, even though, just like with the water, now that he was aware of the option his stomach felt uncomfortably empty. “I want to know what the hell I’m doing here, and what I’m doing here with you!”

The Soldier sighed. “I’m not HYDRA, and I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, sitting back down and crossing his arms.

“I know who you are,” Tony retorted, and noticed the other man tense. “And I didn’t ask about HYDRA, I asked what I’m doing here with you.”

The Soldier - Barnes, Tony supposed he should call him - looked wary. Then Tony’s stomach chose that moment to betray him and let out a loud grumble, which seemed to flip some kind of switch in Barnes’s head.

“I’ll tell you while you eat,” he said decisively, his wariness suddenly replaced with what looked like determination.

~

Apparently, Tony had been shot down by one of HYDRA’s new missiles while flying near the base. The Winter Soldier, who’d been keeping a wary eye on the HYDRA base, had seen it happen, and then gotten to Tony before HYDRA could, prying him out of his suit and carrying him back to… wherever they were now, where he had then patched Tony up.

Which had been roughly a week ago.

“A week?” Tony repeated weakly, once Barnes was done laying out all the facts.

Barnes nodded. “You’ve been in and out of consciousness, but this is the first time you’ve really been aware enough to talk.” He paused, then bit the inside of his cheek. “Other than the time you woke up enough to tell me to shove the broth I was feeding you up my ass.”

“If it tasted anything like this, then I think I was justified,” Tony replied, wrinkling his nose at the cup of plain soup that was shaking in his left hand. Barnes had helped him take the first few sips, like with the water, before Tony had snatched it away and told him he could feed himself. Barnes clearly hadn’t believed him, but had let Tony try, though he’d continued to hover while he’d filled Tony in on what happened.

“Your leg’s broken, but set - the wrist’s a little trickier, but it seems to be just a sprain. Your cuts are all stitched up, and I don’t think any ribs are busted,” Barnes said, ignoring the remark about his cooking. “I was worried about your chest, because you kept clutching at it in your sleep, but I think you’re just all bruised up. Is it hurting?”

Tony grunted and hunched in on himself. Well, yes, but his entire body hurt, like one giant bruise. Apparently, HYDRA didn’t dick around with heavy artillery.

“No more than anything else,” he said evasively, which only made Barnes frown. “Look, Barnes -” Barnes flinched. “- I appreciate the first-aid, but if experience is anything to go by then my absence is probably causing a stir. I need to get back.”

Barnes hesitated. “I could take you to a hospital,” he said finally, after a few seconds of biting the inside of his cheek again. “I couldn’t take you to the one in town, because I figured that’d be one of the first places HYDRA would look. But I could get a car, take you to one of the ones a few towns over, and you could get in contact with your people there.”

“Or,” Tony suggested, tilting his cup towards Barnes and immediately regretting it when the cup almost slid out of his grasp. “I could call my team, get them to come here…”

‘And see you, too,’ Tony didn’t say, though he figured Barnes got the message anyway, if his scowl was anything to go by.

“No,” Barnes said, jaw clenched. “You’re not healthy enough to leave on your own for very long, and I’m not hanging around for - them,” he said quickly, and looked away.

Tony figured the ‘them’ was probably code for a certain blond in a patriotic outfit.

“Look, I know you’re not exactly into people, right now, and with what’s happened to you, I don’t blame you,” Tony said, leaning forward and trying not to wince when the move pulled at his back. “But you seem fine, to me - very un-murdery, which I thank you for, by the way - and I promise you, if you meet with my team, nobody - and that includes stubborn flag-wearing super soldiers - is going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, okay?”

Barnes clenched and unclenched his jaw again, then crossed his arms. “He won’t like that,” he muttered, scowl back in full force.

Tony snorted. “Cap can deal,” he sniffed, and crossed his arms as well. Or, well, he tried to - the splint and bandages Barnes had put on his right arm kept him from actually moving it.

A fraction of a smile ghosted across Barnes’s lips before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

“You underestimate just how stubborn he is,” he said, before clearing his throat. “Tell you what - we’ll give you a few more days to heal, and if I think you’ll be okay to leave alone for a little while, we’ll call your team so they can pick you up. Deal?”

Tony squinted at him. “Does that mean you’re going to take off?”

Barnes raised his eyebrows, which was answer enough. “Do we have a deal?” he repeated.

Tony narrowed his eyes. Then he gave Barnes a quick nod, and leaned back against his pillows.

Maybe a few days would give Tony enough time to convince Barnes to come back with him, anyway.

~

“I am not drinking this,” Tony said, wrinkling his nose at the cup of tea on the tray before him. “And I’m definitely not eating that,” he added, and pointed at the bowl of… oatmeal? Porridge? Whatever if was, it looked like paste in a bowl, and Tony wasn’t touching it.

Barnes rolled his eyes. “It’s that or the broth,” he said, adding a napkin and a spoon to the tray. “And I already told you you couldn’t have coffee.”

Tony scowled up at him. “This is worse than hospital food,” he grumbled, looking down at the bowl of goop again and shuddering. “At least at the hospital, they give you jello.”

“I don’t have any jello. But If you eat it all, you can have an apple for dessert,” Barnes said, nodding seriously. “Now, do you need help, or can you feed yourself?”

Tony glowered at him. “I am not being fed like a giant baby,” he said, picking up the spoon with his left hand and dipping it into the bowl.

The first two spoonfuls ended up on the tray and in his lap, but he managed to get the third one to his mouth. It tasted as bad as Tony had expected, but Tony still shoveled a few more bites in just to prove to Barnes that he could, interspacing it with swings of the awful tea to help wash it down.

Tony had finished three quarters of the bowl and all of his tea when he noticed Barnes’s smug expression, and realized he’d been played.

“You…!” he sputtered, and pointed at Barnes with his spoon.

“I’ll get your apple,” Barnes said as he stood up, turning his head to hide the smile Tony saw anyway.

~

The wrist was a pain in the ass, and the cuts and bruises all hurt, but by far the worst part had to have been the leg.

“I can go by myself.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Just get me a cane, or a crutch, or -”

“No.”

“It’s five steps, Barnes -”

“And your leg is broken, Stark,” Barnes sighed, before tugging Tony’s good arm over his shoulders and supporting Tony’s weight.

They were making one of their many - and much hated, at least by Tony - bathroom trips, which was easily one of the most embarrassing things about the whole ordeal (aside from the incident when Barnes had presented Tony with a washcloth and a bowl of warm water, which Tony had made Barnes promise to never speak of again). Barnes didn’t seem to care, but it irked Tony, because it was only five steps, and he was pretty sure he could get there on his own if he leaned against the wall the whole way. Barnes, though, wouldn’t have it.

“If you fall or step wrong, you could hurt yourself even worse, and then where would you be?” Barnes continued as Tony hobbled along, which was what he always said whenever Tony complained about it.

“Able to take a leak on my own,” Tony griped, mostly to himself, since Barnes ignored him.

~

“I don’t want to hear a fucking word,” Tony said the next day, when Barnes came back from a grocery run and found Tony lying on the floor between his bed and the bathroom.

Tony was still yelled at and called a moron in five different languages, but dinner was slightly better that evening (Barnes had apparently taken Tony’s request for a hamburger to heart), and even included a jello cup Barnes had bought at the store.

~

Things got much worse when Tony caught a cold.

“It’s because you don’t eat enough,” Barnes grumbled, digging through the bag of supplies he’d just brought in. “And because you don’t cover up - I told you to keep those blankets on, but nooo…” He gave a little aha as he found what he’d been looking for, and pulled out a heavy, bulky-looking sweater. “Here,” he said, coming closer and holding the sweater up, as though he planned on putting it on Tony himself. “Put this on.”

“No,” Tony huffed, sitting up and swinging his good leg off the bed.

Barnes was undeterred. “You need to keep warm,” he said fretfully, eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he looked between the sweater and Tony.

Tony, knowing there was a very real chance Barnes was considering wrestling Tony into the sweater anyway, sighed, then motioned for Barnes to toss the thing to him.

“It’s a goddamn cold, Barnes, people catch them all the time,” he griped as he struggled to put it on, his bad arm giving him trouble. When Barnes moved to help him, Tony tried to bat his hands away, and nearly fell of the bed.

Barnes sighed. “Just lay down and get under the covers, Stark. I’ll make you some soup.”

“I don’t want soup,” Tony grumbled petulantly as he did what Barnes had ordered and got under the blankets. He actually was cold, and the sweater was warm and comfy, but he’d sooner stick his own finger in an electric outlet than admit either to Barnes.

Barnes stared heavenward. “What would you like, then?” he asked, with a surprising lack of sarcasm despite his expression.  

Tony blinked at him, because Barnes had never actually asked him before now. “A grilled cheese sandwich,” he said finally, after wracking his brain for a few seconds.

Barnes raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “That’s it?”

Tony nodded and hunched under the blankets. He also wanted to ask for more tea, because it had felt good going down his sore throat earlier, but didn’t want Barnes knowing he was actually starting to like it.

Later, after Tony had eaten two grilled cheese sandwiches and lost an argument over his refusal to take cold medicine, Barnes stood up from the chair beside Tony’s bed and ran a hand through his hair.

“You are the second-most stubborn man-child I have ever had to take care of,” he said tiredly.

“I don’t need to be taken care of,” Tony sniffed. Even he knew better than to argue about the man-child remark. “I get by just fine on my own at home, I don’t need a damn babysitter.”

Barnes, who’d already turned around to head towards the little kitchenette across the room, paused. “You live by yourself?” he asked, turning around with an expression of - was that alarm? “I thought… doesn’t your team live you?”

“No, they live at the Avengers Compound,” Tony replied, blinking away the sudden drowsiness the stupid cold medicine he hadn’t even wanted to take had caused. “I live at the tower. By myself, now, since Pepper moved out.”

Tony thought the medicine must really be messing with him, because he could have sworn he saw Barnes grimace.

“What?” Tony asked around a jaw-cracking yawn.

Barnes shook his head. “Nothing, just… go to sleep, Stark.”

~

The next morning, after breakfast - fruit and a veggie omelet, because Barnes was still trying to get Tony to eat healthy - Barnes sat at the end of Tony’s bed and cleared his throat.

“I think I should take you back home,” he said, staring intently at what was left of Tony’s fruit. “If you think you feel well enough to go, that is.”

Tony paused, his cup of tea halfway to his mouth. “What happened to calling my team and taking off?” he asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously as he set his cup back down.

Barnes shrugged. “Well, I just thought…” He coughed. “That tower of yours got room for one more?”

Tony opened his mouth, then shut it. “Wait… are you asking if…?”

Barnes shrugged again. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to die without someone there to take care of you, and I can’t have that on my conscience on top of everything else,” he said, completely ignoring Tony’s indignant squawk and popping a leftover strawberry in his mouth.

Tony glared at him. Then he took another sip of his tea, which had more sugar in it today, because one of Tony’s many complaints about it had been the bitterness. Tony hadn’t actually asked Barnes to add the sugar, he’d just done it; just like he’d added extra blueberries to the fruit salad without Tony asking, because he’d noticed Tony picking them out and eating them first before.

“You’re going to come back with me whether I want you there or not, aren’t you?” Tony asked finally, swatting Barnes’s hand when he reached for another one of Tony’s strawberries.

Barnes was wearing his smug expression again, which didn’t tick Tony off as much as it probably should have. “Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Tony protested, even though he was already planning things out in his head. Barnes could take Cap’s old floor, if he wanted, though Tony suspected he’d probably find it too much.

Barnes patted Tony’s hand and picked up his tray. “If you say so,” he said, mouth twitching.

“I’m a grown-ass man!”

“Are you going to see an actual doctor when we get back?”

“...why would I need to?”

Barnes made a face, and while Tony wasn’t sure, it sounded like he muttered, “Why do I always like the high-maintenance ones?” as he turned to walk the tray back.

~Moony