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tickle-fic-chick · 4 years ago

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Punishment || A Hazbin Hotel Tickle Fic

Author’s Note: Part of a fic exchange I’m doing with @amazingmsme! This is my first time writing a fic for this fandom but I’m super excited. I love all of these characters and I’m eagerly anticipating the next episode. Just a quick warning, this fic contain adult content that usually isn’t present in my work. You have been warned! I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Oh, and remember...you’re never fully dressed without a smile!

Angel Dust was on a mission and he was determined to succeed. He was no stranger to flirting and seducing, not that it shocked anyone. When you worked in the adult entertainment industry such things were expected of you. Angel was exceptionally popular too, with both men and women. While he personally fancied men and only men, there were times when Valentino didn’t give him much of a choice when it came to partners. He would do whatever it took to keep his drug habit funded and his job secured. Still, Angel would have been lying if he said he hated his work. He had been with some of the top overlords in Hell, a claim not many could make. Still, there was one stallion the spider demon had been unable to ride. That stallion was Alastor, the radio demon and resident co-manager of the hotel. Well, he was determined to change that! He could have any man he wanted and that included Alastor!

He poked his head around the corner, eyes zeroing in on his target. Alastor was at the bar counter, seemingly pestering Husk. The cat demon looked like he would have rather been anywhere else, ears twitching as Alastor laughed at one of his own puns. Angel’s heart rate quickened as determination filled him; he could do this! He wasn’t really interested in Alastor as a romantic partner, just as a one-night stand. He was desperate to know what the famous overlord was like in bed. All he had to do was secure one night with him and that would be the end of it. Besides, then he could brag to his coworkers that he had seduced one of the most powerful beings in Hell. How awesome would that be? Angel took a deep breath, adjusting the outfit he had carefully spent an hour choosing before striding towards the bar. The clicking of his heels quickly drew the attention of the other two demons. Alastor’s face remained unchanged, bearing his usual forced grin, and Husk looked like he wanted to throw himself from the roof of the hotel.

“Ah, Angel Dust! Care to join us? I was just telling Husk about the newest ideas Charlie pitched for the hotel!” The deer demon greeted. “Not that I have much of a choice in the matter.” Husk grumbled, downing his third glass of whisky in under ten minutes. With luck he would pass out soon and wouldn’t have to deal with Alastor again for a few hours. Angel leaned against the counter, batting his eyelashes. He made a point to position himself so that his chest was on display, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Husk. “Don’t you ever wear any normal clothes?” The bartender groaned. “Nope! Why would I want to cover up my best assets?” Angel replied, chancing a glance at Alastor. The radio host seemed to be completely unfazed by his tight, revealing corset and mini skirt. Damn, he was good! Still, Angel wasn’t anywhere near ready to give up! Husk groaned, rubbing his head. “I’ll be back...” He grumbled, stumbling off towards the restrooms. It seemed he had over drank, as usual. This left Alastor and Angel Dust completely alone; perfect.

Angel scooted closer to Alastor; that certainly drew the other’s attention. “So, it’s just you and me now...” The spider demon purred. Alastor tilted his head slightly, grin never faltering. “What precisely are you getting at?” The radio host questioned. “Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m getting at. Let’s head up to my room, what do you say? I can show you a real good time.” Alastor chuckled, static filtering through as he took a step back. “I’m afraid I have to turn down your offer. I’m not one for carnal pursuits of the flesh. Why don’t you proposition ‘ole Husker? He would put up a little resistance at first but usually gives in rather quickly.” Angel took another scoot closer to Alastor, eyes burning with desire. “Because it’s not him I want, big boy.” He reached out to touch the other’s arm, which was promptly drawn away. “Angel, if you persist I’m afraid there’s going to be dire consequences.” Angel smirked. “Haven’t you heard? I like bein’ punished, especially by studs like you.”

Alastor’s expression changed, though it was barely noticeable. His already wide smile widened ever so slightly. There was a new gleam to his eyes, though Angel couldn’t tell what it meant yet. “Is that so?” Alastor purred, taking a step closer to the spider demon. His overall presence poured charisma and power, making Angel’s heart nearly jump out of his chest. “Well then, perhaps I shall carry out your little punishment...” Angel’s throat went dry; was it happening? Had his efforts payed off? His eyes narrowed, smirk widening. “Just be gentle with me, Al. I still gotta work tomorrow.” Angel turned, about to lead the way to his quarters when a hand grabbed his wrist. He looked down, discovering a dark tentacle wrapped around it. “Where do you think you are going?” Alastor asked, taking another step closer. Angel gulped, trying to keep up his cocky persona. “My room? Unless you wanna do this right here, where anyone can see us?” Alastor let out another low chuckle. “Let them see. I’m sure they will enjoy the show.”

That surprised Angel Dust. He had never pegged Alastor as the kinky type; the deer demon was the most mysterious and private person he knew! Still, he certainly wasn’t complaining! A few more tentacles appeared from a portal in the ground, wrapping around his arms and legs. He felt himself being hoisted up and pinned to the wall. “Woah! You do this often?” Angel asked with a nervous chuckle. “Yes, though my magic usually isn’t used for something so trivial.” Alastor scanned the trapped actor’s body, clearly contemplating something. “Now it’s my turn to ask you a question.” Angel shrugged; whatever it took to get this show on the road. “Ask away.” Alastor leaned forward, purring into his captive’s ear. “You wouldn’t happen to be ticklish, would you?” Angel froze, eyes widening. Had he heard that right? No, surely not! “C-Can you repeat that?” He stammered, earning a devilish laugh from the deer demon. “Are you ticklish? It’s a simple questions, my friend! Yes or no!” Oh, so he had heard right. Angel could feel himself blushing under his fur.

The truth was, he was extremely ticklish. He also loved it, tickling being near the top of his growing list of kinks. Just about everyone knew so he rarely had to explain himself. That, when combined with the pure novelty of Alastor being the one teasing him, flustered the spider demon to no end. “W-Well, I...” He started, a squeal cutting off his words. One of the tentacles had slipped around his waist, stroking against his belly. The corset he was wearing left just the slightest bit of tummy exposed, a choice in attire he was now regretting. He bit his lip, holding back snickers. “Yes or no...” Alastor’s tone just made his teasing ever worse! Angel took a deep breath before finally managing to stammer out an answer. “Yes! Y-You know, thihihis isn’t exactly what I had in mind...” He babbled, a giggle slipping out as a tentacle stroked across his neck. “Good! I cannot wait to explore this further!” Alastor chimed, snapping his fingers. The various tentacles set to work, stroking over his exposed neck and belly. Angel instantly burst into giggles, having no chance of holding it in.

“Ah, it seems we’re already making progress!” Alastor said gleefully, a sadistic undertone in his voice. The tentacles were gentle enough at first, stroking slowly and teasingly across Angel’s belly and neck. However, it seemed that Alastor quickly grew bored with mere giggles and elected to really make the spider demon shriek. More tentacles joined the party, squeezing Angel’s hips and knees. The actor squealed, shaking his head rapidly. “Noooohohohohohahahahaha! Dohohohohohohohon’t!” Alastor feigned ignorance. Of course he did, that bastard! “Don’t? Don’t what, my dear friend? You like this, do you not?” Angel’s eyes widened in shock. “Hohohohohow cohohohould you pohohohohohossibly know thahahahat?” He questioned through another round of laughter. “Why, you just told me!” The deer demon replied. Angel’s cheeks were on fire now. He had tricked him! That bastard had tricked him! That wasn’t fair!

“Now, would you be so kind as to tell me your worst spot?” Alastor asked. Angel shook his head stubbornly, squealing again as a particularly sensitive spot on his lower belly was targeted. “Thehehehehehehehere is nohohohohoho wahahahahahay in Hehehehehell I’m tehehehehelling yohohohohohou that!” He retorted. In all honesty, he wanted the other to find it. He was actually enjoying himself quite a bit and wanted this to go on as long as he could handle it. Alastor shrugged, humming as he leaned against the bar counter. “Suit yourself! I’ll just have to experiment with each and every spot until I find the right one.” Angel’s eyes flashed deviously. “Oooohohohohoho, kihihihihihinky!” He called out. While there was no visible change, that comment seemed to irk the deer demon as the tickles suddenly grew much more intense. The tentacles more drilled into his torso, forcing waves of laughter from poor Angel. A shriek tore from his throat when a tentacle curiously brushed under one of his arms. “Oooh, what do we have here?” Alastor purred as Angel’s struggling increased tenfold.

Angel felt into wave after wave of shrieks as tentacles began drilling into his exposed hollows. It was bad enough having a sweet spot that was so easily accessed; having six of them just made it worse! “NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! P-PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!” He cackled. “Begging? So soon? I would have thought a demon of your experience would have a higher tolerance.” Alastor’s teasing was going to kill him, Angel was sure of it. Well, if those damn tentacles didn’t do it first. There was enough of them to attack every armpit at once, something he was completely unused to. The most lers he had ever had at one time was two; only enough hands for four hollows. While that was still awful, it was nothing compared to Alastor’s attack. “STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! MEHEHEHEHEHEHERCY!” He pleaded, feeling himself growing tired. The corset’s tightness made it hard to take deep breaths; he would definitely need a break soon.

Thankfully, Alastor decided to be merciful for once in his life. The tentacles receded back into the portal, leaving the spider demon panting on the ground. Angel curled up, wrapping his multitude of arms around his torso. Alastor approached, observing his victim’s tired state. “Well, I’d say that was sufficient enough punishment, don’t you?” Angel looked up at the deer demon, letting out a weak chuckle. “Damn, you’re merciless. We could use someone like you back at the studio. There are demons who would pay good money for a session with you.” Alastor raised his hand, fingers poised to snap again. “Okay, I’m sorry! I’ll back off with the sex stuff, okay?” Angel blurted quickly. Alastor chuckled, offering Angel a hand. Surprised, the actor accepted the gesture and was pulled to his feet. “Good to hear! Oh look, here comes Husker! Shall we have him pour us a drink?” Angel laughed, shaking his head.

That night was certainly full of surprises...

#alastor #angel dust #hazbin hotel #tickle fic #tickling #tickle community #tickle blog #writing blog

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youtuberswithalex · 4 years ago

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PRVL, Volume 3, Chapter 4: Lessons Learned

Summary: With the second round of the tournament arriving, some of the team can't help but question where they stand in the minds of those they love.

Word count: 7,205

Warnings: Fighting (In a tournament), arguing, breakdown, talk about past death of a parent

I spent the last few days pounding out this chapter so I could post it today. Miss you, Monty. Keep moving forward.

Masterpost – Volume 1 – Previous - Next

-----

New Message from: Mom

Hi, sweetie. Been thinking about you a lot lately. I ran into Anise at the store yesterday (Remember her? Your friend Dominic’s mom), and she said she saw you fighting in the Vytal Tournament, so your dad and I looked it up. Happy to see your team made it into the next round. Dominic’s team apparently lost. He’s a little broken up about it. Maybe you could reach out, if you can find him. Anise would really appreciate it. I know you used to be close, so I’m sure he’d be happy to see you again.

New Message from: Mom

Your sister said she tried to text you. Did they come through? She’s worrying her scroll might be getting a little old…

New Message from: Mom

Could you message me back, please?

Delete Messages?

>YES< >NO<

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

Gunshots echoed through the training area, followed by a scream of frustration and the skidding of boots on the floor. Metal clanged and echoed, and footsteps pummeled.

After a moment, wings fluttered, and a body skidded across the floor. Roman groaned as he began to pick himself up.

“Had enough yet?”

Growling, he shot a glare over to where Anole was putting the halves of his bow back together. “Y’know, when I asked you to join me in training this morning, I meant helping me instead of, you know, absolutely destroying me.”

Anole returned the look with a cross of his arms. “Uh, y’know,” he mocked, “I wouldn’t be kicking your ass so hard if you took two seconds to pay attention to where you are before you attack.”

“I do!” Roman exclaimed. When Anole only raised an eyebrow, he got to his feet and put his hands on his hips. “I do!”

“So what you’re saying is, you meant to be blasted by Thomas’s semblance when saving Patton during round one and get your Aura knocked down by like, fifty percent?”

Roman’s face reddened. “That—That was one time!”

“And you were totally aware of that Cephalo when you stopped to talk to Virgil when your teammates were in danger on your mission?”

“Alright, that’s hardly fair—”

“And you knew the White Fang was coming to kidnap you, and you let them do it on purpose?” Anole held up a finger in pause. “If that one’s true, I might have to kill you myself.”

Roman groaned and threw his hands in the air. “Alright, I get it! So I tend to get tunnel vision in fights; big deal! It’s not like the distractions aren’t coming from the target themselves most of the time…”

Anole furrowed his brow and threw his arms out. “Wh—none of those distractions came from—!” He cut himself off and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Roman. Dude. It’s not just about fighting,” he said. “You gotta think about this stuff in regular, day-to-day life, too.”

Roman let out a laugh. “As if we aren’t training for fighting to be our day to day life.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Anole snapped. “This is exactly what I’m saying! I’m talking, like, people, and relationships and stuff, but you’re still focused on Hunter stuff!”

“Well, yeah! In case you haven’t noticed, we’re kind of in the middle of a biannual world tournament!” he exclaimed. “I do want my team to win, you know.”

“You were already knocked out! Because you weren’t paying attention!”

“I was! Just because it was on my teammate instead of my opponent doesn’t mean it was a bad thing!” Roman shot. “Patton could have gotten hurt if I hadn’t caught him!”

“And you got hurt instead,” Anole lowly pointed out.

Roman reeled back into stunned silence. “I-I didn’t…” His fists balled as he searched for his words. “I still had Aura left…”

Anole let out a breath and stepped forward, opening his arms in invitation. “I know,” he said. “That’s not what I meant.”

Roman looked at his brother for a moment, eyes flicking down to his open arms; his breath came out in a rush as he tucked himself into his grip.

Anole held him close for a long few minutes, saying nothing about his shoulder growing increasingly damp. He rocked him gently and ran his fingers through his hair. In return, Roman’s wings slowly curled around them.

“You’re not bad at fighting,” Anole eventually muttered. As Roman’s grip tightened, he hastily added, “Really, you’re not. I’ve seen you wipe the floor in 1v1 classroom fights a hundred times over. You’re good at what you do. You just… can’t be an idiot. You need to think, and pay attention, especially when you’re in the field. People are going to get hurt if you don’t.”

“I know,” Roman choked out.

“And that applies in regular life, too. You can’t just rush head-first into things without considering where they’re going to end up, or who it’s going to affect other than you… Especially when it involves other people.”

Roman frowned. He pulled back just enough to look Anole in the eye. “What do you mean?”

Anole, while he had the grace to appear the slightest bit embarrassed with the flush of his cheeks, gave his shoulders a squeeze and shrugged. “W-Well… Y’know, with you and Riad…”

“What about us?”

“I…”

Yanking himself away, Roman put his hands on his hips and shot a glare that felt a hundred times worse than the ones just moments ago. “No, go on. I want to hear what you have to say about me and my boyfriend’s relationship.”

Anole looked away and shuffled. “He’s not just your boyfriend,” he attempted to say under his breath.

Roman could do nothing but stare at his own brother for a long moment, just processing the words that had come out of his mouth. If it wasn’t for the cool, early morning light seeping through the windows, he could have sworn he was starting to see red.

“Is that what your problem is with us being together?” he snapped. “The fact that you don’t get to spend as much time with him anymore?”

“What? No, Roman—”

“You spend almost every moment with him that I’m not there, not to mention an entire year before me, and you’re jealous?”

“Ro—”

“I cannot believe that that’s what’s been up your… your scaly ass this whole time! Jealous because your brother and best friend are taking time away from you to be happy together!”

“I don’t want you to get hurt!”

Roman froze. Anole huffed out a breath and ran a hand through his hair.

“Look, I just— I don’t know what I’d do if one of you got hurt because of the other,” he admitted. “It would suck so much! I love you both so much, and I hate seeing either of you in pain! I hate seeing anyone I love being in pain! And… And knowing I’d have to pick a side, pick only one of you to stick by, it’s just… Gods, I hate it! And I’d especially hate it if I knew there was something I could have done to stop it!”

“…You think I’m going to hurt him,” Roman slowly said.

Anole stiffened. He finally looked back at Roman.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I think I know exactly what you meant.”

“Roman…”

Before Anole could say another word, Roman shut his eyes and shook his head. He turned and headed towards the door.

“I know you hate us being together,” he called over his shoulder, “But you don’t have to be such a jerk about it.”

The door slammed shut a moment later. Anole was left in suffocating silence.

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

“You’re absolutely sure you’re okay with me being your partner for this?”

Logan let out a soft sigh as he turned to look at his teammate. Patton’s fingers fiddled with the edge of his shield, and he was staring at the arena floor as if he expected it to jump out at him.

“Yes, Patton,” he said for what must have been the fifth time since they stepped onto the field. “You are undoubtedly the best choice for this fight, in many more ways than one.” After a beat, he added, “Besides, even if I were to change my mind, it’s far too late to do anything about it now.”

Patton’s head snapped up, eyes blown wide. “I-I’m sure there’s still time! The other team isn’t even here yet; I could run and go get Virgil, if you want!”

“There is no need, Patton. I was merely expressing a hypothetical situation,” Logan quickly corrected. “I am happy to have you joining me for this fight.”

There was a beat where Patton could do nothing but blink owlishly at him; even after it passed, all he could do was look back at the floor and say, “…Oh.”

A purple rubber ball rolled up to their feet.

“Sorry!” a voice cried.

A girl wearing a red and white sports uniform sprinted over and scooped it up before jogging back to the other side of the platform, where another person stood, shaking his head.

“Valerie, come on,” he chuckled. “We haven’t even started and you’re losing track of that thing.”

“Come on, I just dropped it!” Valerie said back.

Her partner rolled his eyes, smile on his face, and leaned his weight on the long spear in his hands that was about his same height. His cloak slipped off of the gold plated armor that rested on his right arm. “Uh huh, and which piece of padding did it ‘drop-bounce’ off of?”

“Jo!” Valerie huffed.

Patton giggled at the banter, only to slap his hand over his mouth when it drew the attention of the other two to him. They stared at him for a beat, and then looked at each other and began to laugh.

“Nice to meet you,” Jo said. “Patton and Logan, right? Team PRVL?”

Logan nodded. “And you must be Valerie and Jo of Team SVIJ.”

“Huh, would you look at that,” he replied. “The boys and the girls both did their homework.”

Valerie winked at Jo. “But only us girls are making it to the next round.”

“I’m not one right now, but you’ve got the spirit.”

Patton let out a soft whimper, but Logan only smiled.

“We’ll see about that,” he answered.

The platform beneath them shifted as the fields began to fill into place; all four turned and inspected them as they rose to the floor. A forest, pirate ship, the geysers, and…

Valerie gasped. “The gravity fields! Oh, you two are going down!”

“Val, don’t give our strategies away!”

“In three… two… one…”

They scrambled to get into position.

“BEGIN!”

Valerie threw her ball in the air and jumped after it, twirling up just high enough to slam her padded knee into it, surrounding it in a bright purple glow, and send it flying towards Logan and Patton. The two dove out of the way just in time; when the ball hit the ground, it dimmed and skidded like it was made of stone. She leapt towards it and grabbed it while somersaulting, and as soon as she was back on her feet, she tossed it up and began to bounce it between her knees. The purple glow grew with each hit.

Logan caught himself from tumbling by placing one hand on the ground and pressing down hard until he slowed to a stop. The second he regained his balance, he changed his book into its pistol form and aimed at Valerie’s ball; just as he was about to fire, Jo’s spear flew in and knocked it out of his hand. While his weapon skidded away, the spear redirected itself and soared right back into Jo’s hand just as he started to charge at Logan.

He was quick to throw up his arm and block the first swing, but Jo was quicker, grabbing the bar between his spear’s double-blades and detaching it from its handle. He balanced the pole on Logan’s forearm armor and spun it; Logan ducked down and somersaulted underneath Jo’s legs just before it collided with the back of his head. Jo whipped around and slammed the blades toward him, but they smashed into the ground while Logan leapt up and sprinted towards his own weapon.

“That’s my son!” a voice cried from the stands.

Logan cast a quick glance up to where his father was on his feet, screaming and jumping up and down. He let out a huff of exasperation before focusing back on the fight.

Letting out a yelp, Patton hastily threw his shield in front of his face just before Valerie’s ball could hit. It bounced off, the impact creating a vibration so intense he could practically feel his bones shake, and shot back towards her. She jumped a few inches off of the ground to headbutt it against the purple sweatband on her forehead, right back into his shield. Patton whimpered and took a step back as another bout of discomfort shot through his whole body. He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to focus, but at the next hit, he felt a tingle run up his arms. He bit his tongue and tried to keep it in.

“Patton!”

A strap wrapped around his bicep and yanked him away just in time, the ball just grazing the side of his head as he was whipped away. He found himself tumbling across the floor, only landing on his feet by chance; when he inevitably lost his balance, Logan caught him by the shoulders and righted him.

“Breathe, Patton,” he ordered. “Try to focus it.”

With a battle cry, Jo leapt into the air and brandished their re-combined spear over their head. Patton shoved Logan away and held up his shield. Jo didn’t miss a beat; he shifted just enough to use it as a springboard and flipped over him, choosing instead to javelin the spear at Logan, who sidestepped it and flung his book into his stomach. The impact sent Jo flying into the gravity fields, and his spear wasn’t far after.

A split second later, the glowing rubber ball flew between their heads, followed by Valerie chasing after both it and her teammate. She turned and shot a wink at them, smile as bright as her weapon.

“Catch us if you can!” she laughed.

As soon as her feet left the middle platform, Valerie soared into the air, leaning forward enough to hit her ball against an elbow pad and send it towards Jo; she flipped a couple of times before coming to a gentle landing on one of the large walls floating above the ground. Jo stood upside down on a platform above her and swung his spear at the ball, knocking it back to her like a game of baseball. She sent it back with her knee and ran up the wall to get closer to her teammate.

“That’s what the gravity fields do?!” Patton squeaked.

But Logan was already sprinting towards their opponents, only allowing himself a little wobble when he jumped off of the main floor and was pulled towards a platform three away from the others. Patton swallowed thickly and followed after.

His head began to swim once he was in the air, feeling himself being pulled towards or against all sorts of different directions; immediately, his arms and legs shot out, trying to get the balance that the area had no laws over. His stomach flipped as quickly as he himself did, and he watched as patches of ice started to form on the platforms he passed.

In the stands, Virgil cringed and ran a hand through his hair, ducking half his face beneath the wall in front of their seats as if it could shield him from what was happening to his partner. “Oh, Pat…!”

“That can’t be good,” Thamir said.

Logan somersaulted and used his hands to launch himself off of his platform, righting himself perfectly to land the final gap between himself and Jo. Jo turned to glance at him and smirked; the ball came flying in, and he batted it towards Logan, who threw up an arm for it to bounce against. It sent a shot of pain through his muscles, but it bounced at just the right angle for it to fly away from either of the members of Team SVIJ. Valerie began to maneuver her way back to it while Logan reared back and threw his book at Jo.

The strap wrapped tight around his spear, and Jo attempted to yank back and pull Logan with him, but he dug his heels into the floor and held his ground. He grabbed the strap with both hands and pulled, locking them in a tug of war of weapons.

Beneath them, the white glow around the edges of the platform switched to purple, and their feet lifted off of the floor. As they fell, they both yanked themselves towards each other, punching and kicking when they were close enough, until the side of another platform separated them. They both slammed against the floor of their respective sides.

As Logan clambered to his feet, a hand brushed against his hair, and he looked up in time to watch Patton yelp as he floated by.

“Logan, help!” he cried.

“Get to a platform!”

“I don’t know how!”

Before Logan could reply, he was yanked away and over the edge of the platform, the force causing him to lose his grip on his strap and send him flying in a completely different direction. He crashed into a large cube with a grunt. As he pushed himself up, he watched Jo tuck his book into his jacket and leap off to another platform.

Logan growled and pushed himself to his feet, only for the gravity to begin to shift again. He sprinted up the wall as fast as he could and dove, grabbing onto the corner just as his feet lifted off of the ground. Carefully, he swung his other arm up and pulled himself to the top as he calculated how to get to either Valerie or Jo from where he was.

Just as he began to stand, a yell sounded behind him, and a body slammed into his back, sending them both back to the floor. Valerie’s ball rolled innocently across their faces as he and Patton hurried back to their feet.

“H-Hey, I made it to a platform finally!” Patton laughed.

Logan glared. ��Patton…,” he growled.

Before he could say another word, Patton reached down and snatched the ball up, tucking it under his arm. “Well, if they can steal your weapon, we can steal theirs, too! No need to play dirty in a tourna—Oof!”

Valerie slammed her feet into Patton’s back, sending him flying off the platform and her ball out of his grip and into the air; she hit it up with her elbow and blocked a punch from Logan before kicking him in the chest and sending him back a few steps. They repeated this a few times, with Valerie playing keepie-uppie with her weapon and Logan throwing attacks in between, until Logan’s legs were knocked out from under him and he dropped to the floor.

He rolled to the side just in time to dodge Jo’s spear coming towards him and slamming his elbow into his chest. As Jo recoiled, Logan smashed the heel of his palm into his chin and kicked him back into Valerie, who dropped her ball as the two stumbled off of the edge.

Logan was about to leap after them when Patton crashed into him again and sent them flying in a different direction than intended. They each grabbed onto each other by instinct as they swirled around, but once Logan’s head stopped spinning, he huffed and shot Patton a glare.

“I’m sorry!” Patton yelped in return. “I didn’t mean to!”

In a split second decision, Logan grabbed his teammate’s wrist and whirled as hard as he could, launching Patton out of the gravity fields and back towards center stage. Patton’s gasp and wide eyes followed Logan as the momentum sent himself onto another platform; as he landed, he checked to make sure safely made it to the floor.

Roman threw his hands in the air and jumped up, practically yanking Riad out of his seat when he refused to let go of his hand. “What is he doing?!”

Virtus and Esther glanced at each other, both letting out a soft, deflating sigh.

A blast of wind slowed Patton’s trajectory down, but he tumbled across the floor no less. With a quick glance at the scoreboard to check his Aura, Logan determined Patton would be alright while he took Team SVIJ out on his own.

Jo threw his spear at Valerie’s ball and knocked it over to where the two of them stood; she jumped up and caught it, and as soon as his weapon was back in his hands, they turned their backs to each other and looked around.

“Where’d you go, kid?” Jo muttered.

A blur shot by to their side, and they snapped their gazes over in time to see Logan high in the air above. His fist was reared back, and his necklace about to hit himself in the face; the platform behind him began to suck him towards it, but the gravity shifted just in time.

He let out a cry as the fields launched him towards the two.

They each jumped to the side just as he smashed into the ground; they reared their weapons back, but Logan was quick to block. He swatted Jo’s spear to shoot over his shoulder, and punched Valerie’s ball up and away. Jo threw his weapon across his body and pulled him tight to his chest, but Logan grabbed it and shoved it away, throwing his head back to collide with his jaw. While he stumbled, he ripped it away and used it to swipe Valerie’s feet out from under her.

He spun and crouched, holding the blade towards Jo while he recovered. As soon as he realized what had happened, he glared and pulled Logan’s book out of his jacket, switching it immediately into its pistol form and firing a few rounds. Logan spun the spear to block each bullet before charging towards him, blade out.

As soon as he was close enough, Jo ducked and somersaulted underneath Logan’s legs, purposefully knocking one out with his shoulder. Logan stumbled and rolled; he got back to his feet as fast as he could, only for the rubber ball to slam into his chest. The force knocked the spear out of his hand and sent him flying up and off of the platform.

He managed to right himself before landing on the closest ground he could find, only dropping to his knees when it pulled him in faster than he was expecting. He allowed himself just a moment to catch his breath and assess the situation when bullets began to strike the ground around him. Shooting to his feet, he ran, glancing over to watch as Jo fired Logan’s pistol while Valerie charged up her ball.

Logan was just about to leap again when a bullet knocked the book out of Jo’s hands; shortly after, another hit the ball away.

Right on the edge of center stage, Patton held up his shield, one eye shut for aim as he fired at their opponents.

A spark of pride shot through Logan’s soul just as he reached the top of the platform. He turned to send Patton a smile and thumbs up, when—

His foot slid out from under him.

Logan sucked in a gasp as he slipped off of the edge, hands reaching to grip the edge and catch himself, but they were only met with slippery ice. As he tumbled towards the ground, he bounced off of no less than two separate platforms; he slammed into the corner of the third and final one before he found himself hitting the tiles below.

A buzzer sounded.

“Ooh, and there goes the powerhouse of Team PRVL!” Professor Port’s voice yelled. “A rare ring-out caused by a student’s own teammate!”

Logan felt the blood drain from his face.

“It’s up to Mr. Passio to save this match now! But can he do it without any aid from his team?”

Patton’s eyes widened as Jo and Valerie started to make their way over to him. He fired a few rounds towards them, but they dodged without missing a beat.

“Pat, go for cover!” Virgil screamed.

Just as they were leaping off of the last platform, Patton turned on his heel and started to sprint towards the trees. He heard them hit the ground, and just a second later, Jo’s spear flew past. He yelped and spun around; immediately, he threw his shield up to block the ball. A whimper ripped out of his throat at both the sound and the shock crawling up his forearms.

Patton forced himself to take a deep breath before allowing himself to look up; the two were sprinting towards him at full speed. He squeezed his eyes shut and threw out his hand towards the ground, trying to focus on the fear running through his veins instead of the electricity.

Just as he opened his eyes, Valerie stepped on the sheet of ice that had formed in front of her. She froze and cried out, face contorting in pain, and stumbled down to the ground before ripping herself away from the area.

A blast of wind knocked Jo back a few steps while Patton gasped, but he recovered quick enough; his spear flew back into his hands, and he swung it towards his side. Patton jumped sideways and blocked it with his shield. While he was turned away, Jo jabbed his fingers into the side of his neck, and Patton screamed. His knees buckled, hand flying up to protect the area.

Jo startled at the reaction and went to catch him, but ice shot out around them, and he fell to the ground on top of him. He was quick to roll off, but a statically charged punch hit him in the stomach, causing him to slide halfway across the field. He landed near Valerie, who was just shaking off her own pain and reaching for her ball.

Patton, back on his feet, whirled around to look at them, eyes filled with panicked tears and hands cupping his neck. Crackles of electricity flew off his forearms, and his breath came out in erratic gasps.

Jo and Valerie shot each other concerned glances.

In the stands, both Virgil and Roman shot to their feet and grabbed the wall in front of them in white-knuckled grips.

“No, no, no, not now!”

“Breathe, Patton, breathe! Shit!”

Carefully getting to her feet, Valerie looked over at Patton. “We gotta end this,” she stated to Jo.

He glanced up at the board and pulled his spear into his hands. “His Aura’s low. One good hit should knock him out,” he replied. “Watch out for his electricity.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Jo planted his feet in the ground and held out his spear; Valerie grabbed onto the handle between the blades and started to run. He whipped her around himself a few times before she detached the blades and skated at full speed towards Patton. He threw out his left hand to try to catch her, but she grabbed him by the shield and twisted his arm behind his back. Bolts of lightning started to shoot out, but she held tight, using his weapon to her advantage.

On the other end of the stage, Jo backed up as far as he could before sprinting to the ice and hopping on, arm reared back as far as it could go. He slammed his fist into Patton’s stomach and used his torso to catch himself, sliding to a stop next to Valerie.

Patton fell to the floor and covered his ears as the buzzer echoed through the arena.

The screams of the crowd and the cheers of the announcers were lost to their ears as they dropped down next to him.

“Are you okay?” Jo asked.

Patton nodded, despite choking on a sob.

In an instant, Logan was skidding across the ice on his knees to make it to his teammate. He reached up and grabbed both of Patton’s biceps, squeezing them tight when he whimpered.

“Patton? Patton, it’s alright,” he tried.

Virgil and Roman bolted as soon as the fight was over, nearly tripping over Virtus and Esther in their haste to get to the aisle. Esther was quick to follow, and Riad and Thamir weren’t far behind.

Just as Virtus was getting up to join them, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he froze. The all too familiar feeling of eyes on him caused his skin to crawl. His eyes flicked around the crowd until he found the source, standing at the bottom of the balcony two sections above.

Despite having been caught, the woman stood her ground, and they started at each other for a long, arduous moment. Virtus couldn’t read her expression from as far away as she was, especially with half of her face covered, but between her crossed arms and stiff posture, he could only find himself putting his guard up.

After a long minute, she finally turned and headed up the stairs, magenta ponytail flicking behind her.

Virtus watched her go before following after his family.

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

“Patton— Patton, please just let me—”

“Ah—Ah! Roman…!”

Letting out a soft huff, Roman sat back on the bed, ice pack dropping to his lap. “It’s going to bruise if we don’t ice it, Pat,” he stated. “Do you have any idea how painful bruised gills are? Because from what I hear, it’s a lot.”

“It feels fine right now,” Patton whined.

“Yeah, because Virgil’s holding you.”

Virgil’s already-closed eyes squeezed tighter, and he pulled Patton closer against his chest. “Don’t distract me,” he muttered.

Patton patted his arm with his free hand while his other gripped white-knuckled at his collar. “C-Can’t we just put it on top of this? The cold would get through eventually, right?”

“It would if you’d let me touch your neck,” Roman pointed out.

He immediately curled in on himself, shoulders almost coming up to his ears; they bumped against Virgil’s jaw, and he flinched. Patton let out a hiss when the pain started to seep back in.

“Gah—sorry, sorry!”

Virgil quickly pulled him into his arms again. Roman could only watch and offer Patton a pointed stare. When the ache began to ebb, their leader looked up and sighed.

“Am I allowed to hold it instead?” he asked, voice wavering dangerously close to tears.

If there was anything that could convince Roman to break every rule he knew, it was a sad Patton.

Reluctantly, he handed him the ice pack. “You can’t hold it on for too long at a time,” he said, “Or it’s going to burn your scales and hurt even worse. Fifteen minutes at a time, max.”

Patton wiped at his eyes and carefully peeled his collar away just enough to set it on his swollen gills. A shiver wracked up his spine, prompting both Virgil and Roman to reach to wrap his detached cape tighter around him. He squirmed under the attention.

“Guys, I’m fine, really,” he whispered.

Letting out a soft sigh, Virgil carefully rested his forehead on Patton’s opposite shoulder. “We know, we’re just… worried about you,” he said. His eyes flicked over to the empty other side of the room. “…Logan, too. But he’s too stubborn to let us take care of him.”

“He isn’t not letting us take care of him,” Roman replied. “I’m sure he just wants to be with his parents right now.”

“…He really wanted to win, didn’t he?”

The question hung in the air, answer only coming with the silence it created. Patton frowned and lowered his ice pack, fingers reaching up to fiddle with the clasp of his collar.

“I hope he’s alright.”

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

Logan clutched tight at his necklace, tugging at it as if it would help his cause. “Father, please.”

“Logan, no,” Virtus answered. “You don’t need to do any training tonight. You fought great today and deserve a rest!”

“I do not. There is clearly a need for me to keep working, and I would like to take advantage of you being here while you are,” Logan shot back.

Virtus rubbed a hand over his face, leaning back against the wall outside of the training arena. “You won’t learn anything if you’re exhausted.”

“Falsehood. Any training will still extend to my muscle memory.”

“But your brain isn’t going to retain it after a day like today.”

Crossing his arms, Logan raised an eyebrow. “Father, you of all people should know that we won’t have time to rest and recover when we’re in the field,” he stated.

“I do know that, and that’s exactly why I’m pushing you to relax,” he said, waving an arm out. “Look around you. You’ve got yourself surrounded by friends, training partners, time to study and do what you want… Take advantage of it while you’re here, Logan. This isn’t going to last forever.”

Logan scowled. “Why should I take advantage of it when it only serves to underprepare me? I can’t let myself get used to the luxuries here.”

“Because you’re going to miss this.” Virtus shook his head and looked around campus. “These four years are your last chance to be a kid, you know. Enjoy it while you can. It might not seem like it now, but after you graduate, you’re going to wish you had another chance to be young and reckless without any serious consequences.

“I don’t want you to look back with regret that you grew up too fast. I know you already did when… when we lost your mother. You deserve a chance at the same carefree childhood that the rest of us had. I know you have that here with your team, your friends. You can’t just push away everything that’s kind to you to harden up for the real world. It’s going to eventually do that for you anyway.”

Logan’s face slowly began to soften as he mulled over what he’d been told. A deep, weighted breath tumbled out of his lungs, and he looked away, closing his eyes.

“Father… I understand what you’re attempting to say,” he muttered, “But I can’t… I can’t—I can’t let myself continue to be a failure because I didn’t push myself enough when I could have.”

Virtus froze. “Failure?” he asked. “When have you ever been a failure?”

Letting out a huff, Logan turned and began to pace.

“I have been consistently failing at nearly everything from the moment I arrived at Beacon Academy!” he admitted. “I fail to keep myself focused on my studies instead of getting distracted by the world around me. I fail to understand how to form relationships of any sort; all of my friends so far have either been through assignments or association! I failed to realize Virgil was starting to struggle with anxiety before it impacted his health, I failed to save Roman before he got himself into danger twice, and I’m still failing to help Patton cope with what we’re increasingly suspecting to be autism, despite the fact that I’m autistic and am the most qualified of our team to teach him!”

Virtus opened his mouth, but Logan whirled around with desperate eyes before he could get a word out.

“And you saw what happened today!” he cried. “I thought I was making the right decisions, but everything I did was wrong! I failed my team, I failed Patton, I failed you! And I…”

Logan sucked in a trembling breath, turning his face away before his father could see the growing wetness of his eyes.

“…I failed Mother.”

Virtus could only think of one time where his world was rocked so suddenly.

“Logan… Logan, no, no, Logie!”

His breath rushed out of him as he rushed to his son, wrapping his arms tight around him and burying his nose in his hair. He cupped the back of his head and gently began to rock them; when Logan hugged him back, he could feel the slight tremor in his arms.

It was a long few minutes before they moved again. Virtus pulled away first, keeping a hand on Logan’s back, and directed them to a nearby bench, where he had Logan sit. Virtus kneeled down in front of him and pulled his mask down to his chin.

“There has not been a single moment since the day you were born where I wasn’t so incredibly proud of the person you’ve become,” he assured. “You are, without a doubt, the greatest thing that ever happened to us. You’re strong, you’re brilliant, you have a good heart, even if you struggle to express it sometimes… It’s like someone took the best parts of your mother and I and put them into one person. How could I ever not be proud of you?”

He reached up and gently took hold of Logan’s necklace, an old ache hiding just behind his eyes.

“I knew your mother better than almost anyone,” he said, slight crack in his voice, “and I know she felt the same way. She never, never would have seen you as a failure. Especially not over something as silly as a tournament.”

“I wanted to win for her,” Logan choked out. “I thought… I thought if I could get as far as she did, then I’d have lived up to her expectations. I’d have lived up to her. But I-I couldn’t even do that.”

Virtus took Logan’s hands and held them tight. “The only expectations she had for you was for you to be happy, Logan. She couldn’t have cared less about your skills as a Huntsman. You could have been knocked out by a gust of wind, and she’d have loved you all the same. You were her pride and joy, and nothing in this world could have ever changed that.”

He pulled a hand away to cup Logan’s cheek, doing what he could to cover the scars from view. A soft smile formed on his lips.

“I see so much of her in you,” he whispered. “The way you fight, the way you speak… The way you put so much pressure on yourself to do better, even when you’re already giving more than you have to offer.” He started to rub soft circles into his skin. “And I’m going to tell you the same thing I always told her: You’re doing fine.”

Logan shook his head, refusing to look at him. “But Mother—”

“—Had her flaws, too,” Virtus interrupted. “She didn’t win every fight. She didn’t catch every sign when her friends were struggling. And she certainly wasn’t perfect. But she was so, so loved, not just despite all that, but because of it, and you are, too.”

He pulled his hand away from his face, scooping up both of Logan’s again.

“You are, too,” he repeated.

Sucking in a trembling breath, Logan nodded. His shoulders hesitantly lowered, as if he was forcing himself to lift a weight that had haunted him for years.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”

“And Logan…”

Virtus sighed, looking at the ground.

“I love you and I am so proud of you,” he said. “I know you know that, and I know you know Esther does, too. And we always want to you understand that you can always come to us when you’re struggling with something.”

He squeezed his hands before turning back to him. “But you need to rely on your team, too,” he stated. “They love you and care about you just as much as we do, and I’m sure they want to help you as much as you want to help them. I know you’re strong, and you’re capable of handling things on your own; you’ve been doing it since the day you scaled the bookcase in the living room when we put your favorite story on the top shelf.”

Logan let out a weak laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you scream louder than when you saw me.”

“And I never saw your mother move as fast as she did when it startled you and you lost your footing,” Virtus chuckled.

Another noise came out of Logan, this one a mix between a laugh and a sob; a tear trailed down his cheek. He reached to wipe it away, but Virtus gently caught his wrist and used the pad of his own thumb to do it instead.

“My point is,” he said, “You don’t have to do everything alone, Logan. Let your friends take care of you. I’m more than willing to bet that they’d be honored to have the chance. Okay?”

Logan nodded, but the deep frown on his face didn’t budge. “I… I just don’t think I know how,” he admitted.

Virtus offered him a soft smile.

“Then let them teach you.”

Logan considered this for a long moment, and then he nodded again, tipping forward to rest his forehead on his father’s shoulder. Virtus wrapped his arms around him and held him close.

For one blissful moment, it almost felt like everything was okay in the world. Every problem, every emotional strain and social struggle fell away when his father was there to shield him.

In the back of his mind, Logan was reminded of a time where he felt the cold sting of a winter breeze on his ears. The crunching of footsteps against a thick blanket of snow landed in time with the jostling of his tiny body against her shoulder. He could practically still smell the vanilla and coffee radiating off of the thick coat he rested on. Her silky brunette hair tickled when it brushed against his face.

He didn’t want to open his eyes. But he knew it wasn’t going to last forever.

When they finally pulled away, a soft set of footsteps approached.

“I think you’ve both earned a little something nice today,” Esther quietly spoke, holding out the drink carrier in her hands. “Hot apple cider with a hint of caramel, fresh out of the press.”

Virtus climbed up to the bench to sit to the left of Logan, and Esther sat herself on his right, passing out the drinks with only soft “thank-you”s to break the silence. Their shoulders rested against each other as they sipped, despite the ample room on their seat, serving as a gentle reminder of their presence.

Logan found his eyes drifting towards the building where his dorm was. He could see the light on inside, but they were far too distant to be able to make out anymore details. A dull pang settled in his heart at the thought of them having fun without him; he pressed his lips together and looked down at his lap.

Perhaps he could skip training for one night.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #rwby au #prvl #alex writes

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narnie3313 · 5 years ago

Text

REVENGE

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Rating: Everyone

Warnings: Language, Anger, Cheating, Illegal Activity, Peeing?

Setting: You’re in class 1A and have been dating a guy from your childhood for a few months (Kendi) who goes to a different school so picks you up for dates from the dorms. Everything else is explained in the fic. Enjoy =^.^=

(This was written while listening to Bust Your Windows by Jazmine Sullivan which obviously heavily inspired this)

Pairing = Kirishima x reader x Bakugou

________________________________________________________________

“Y/N? What’s wrong? What happened?”

You look up from your arms crossed over your face and hugging your knees at your dorm room door to see Kirishima running over to your side. You watch as his face turns to pure panic as he takes in your puffy, bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “Y/n, what’s wrong? Come on talk to me.”

“I-I…….I…..” is all you manage to get out before your dropping your head into his chest as the uncontrolled sobbing returns. He holds you for a while, feeling your breathing hitch and studder with every sob that you try so hard to stop. It’s only when you look up at him and see the sadness in his face that you realize seeing you like this is upsetting him too.

“I-I’m sorry.” You say as you sit up hugging your knees again and wiping your face on the sleeve of the baggy, oversized hoodie you have on. “I didn’t mean for anyone to hear or to upset you.”

“I don’t care about that, just….what happened? I’ve never seen you like this.” His hand is rubbing up and down your back trying to sooth you.

Taking a deep breath, you look at him through your wet lashes and force a very obviously fake smile at him, “You know today is date night, yeah?” You watch as he nods and you can see he is really just giving you every ounce of attention he has. “Well, I didn’t hear from Kendi,” He watches as your face ever so slightly cringes at the name of your boyfriend, “Which was weird, so I decided to catch the train over to his dorm instead because maybe he was busy. So I thought I’d just hang out in his dorm like I’ve done before and wait for him to get back or till I heard from him….”

Kirishima notices as your breath starts to hitch and your chest starts stuttering again and he already knows where this is going. He can already feel the anger burning up inside him. “I got to the d-dorms and walked up to his door and heard him talking, s-so I figured he was on the phone or whatever. I w-walked in…..” You paused as a handful of tears pushed past your jet black lashes and you watched Kirishimas face turn from sad to anger. “A-and, a-all I saw, w-was him on the edge of h-his bed, with a girl between h-his legs sucking h-him off.” You feel your chest tighten as you recall the image which would haunt you in your nightmares for months.

“That bastard.” Kirishima is suddenly off the bed and stomping towards the door but he can’t get to it before you’re throwing yourself off the bed and grabbing his wrist with both of your hands. “P-please, Eiji. Please don’t. I-I can’t. P-please.”

“No. This is too far. I’ve stood by and watched all the shit he’s put you through in such a short time and I’m done. I won’t let him hurt you anymore!” Kirishima is fuming. You can see his face contorted in pure anger, something you’ve never seen from your happy, boisterous best friend.

“Kiri, please, just don’t. I’m not going back. I won’t let him back in, I promise. Just please let it go.”

Kirishima examines your face and he can feel the anger melt from his face but not his body. He doesn’t want you to see him angry and right now you need a friend. He’d deal with this later. He gently closed the door and walked back over to your bed sitting you between his legs and stroked your hair until he felt you soften and fall asleep below him. Once he felt your breathing deepen, he knew what to do. After he laid you down, careful not to wake you up, he walked out silently into the hallway, pulling your door closed behind him and walking down the hall. Careful not to wake anyone else up, he knocked on Bakugous door. It took a minute but he then heard shuffling behind the door and it quickly swung open as the explosive blonde looked at him, half asleep but as angry as ever.

“The fuck do you want, Shitty Hair?!”

“Kendi cheated on y/n. I’m going to fuck up his car. Maybe him too. You in?”

Bakugou looked at Kirishima and could tell he wasn’t joking around. Once he’d registered what had been said, Bakugous face changed from anger to a devious smirk that would have frightened anyone other than Kirishima.

“Fuck yeah.”

Kirishima sat on Bakugous bed while he got out of his pjs and gathered his stuff. “You ready?” Kiri asked.

“Yep. Let’s go.”

They walked to the door of the dorm room and swung the door open only to find you standing in the doorway.

“I fucking knew it!” You said in a whisper type yell. “I knew you would come here and I know what you’re doing. Please, guys. Please. Don’t. He’ll know! I don’t want you to get in trouble of me and my issues! It’s not fair on you!”

“Move it, short stuff. That asshole has gotten away with too much and I’ve hated him from the moment I met him.” Bakugou said as he moved into the hallway past you.

“Kiri, for the love of god, please don’t. I would never forgive myself if you guys got in trouble over me.”

“We love you, but we’re not doing this just for you, ok? What he did the opposite of manly and it’s just not cool and someone’s gotta teach him a lesson.” he pushes past you as he lays a soft kiss on your forehead and pulls the door closed behind him. You’re left standing there debating what else you could do to stop them as they walk down the hallway. After a second you decide.

“Stop for a second!”

Kirishima stops and turns to look at you calmly while Bakugou just stops and rolls his eyes.

“I’m coming with you. If this is happening, I’m coming.”

You feel angry Crimson eyes on you in a second. “Not a fucking chance.”

“You don’t get a choice. He hurt ME. He broke ME. He cheated on ME. I get to go and fuck his shit up. Plus, if we get caught, I go down with you guys which is better than just you guys getting trouble for my shit, ok?”

Bakugou looks at you for a second before turning to Kirishima who just smiles and shrugs.

“For fuck sake, fine! We’re taking my car.”

The drive to his dorm is eerily quiet. You can tell they don’t want you here but only because they don’t want you getting into trouble.

“That’s his car there.” You say as they pull into the parking lot. “Give me your keys.”

Bakugou doesn’t even question you, just hands them over as you climb out of the car. They hop out after you and watch as you eagerly walk over to his car but hesitate before you begin carving into it. The image is in your head again, his head thrown back while a strangers head bobs up and down between his legs. You’re snapped out of it when you feel Kiris hands on your shoulders and see him looking down at you.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. I want to. You know….he told me it was my fault?” Kirishimas head snaps down to look at you again, as does Bakugous. “He told me it was because I ‘teased’ him with what I would wear on our date nights but I didn’t follow through. He said that he was sick of waiting for me to be ready.” Kirishima and Bakugou looked at each other with utter hatred in their eyes. How could someone be so damn heartless.

You moved out of Kirishimas grip and started to carve the word ‘cheater’ along the door of his car. You then moved to the bonnet and carved ‘manipulator’ as deep as you could. You carved the pet name he used to call you into his other door. ‘Bubba’. You thought it was cute at the start, but the more he hurt you, the taste turned sour. You kept going back thinking he would stop if you just gave him what he said he ‘needed’ but you just couldn’t do it. It didn’t feel right.

When you were done, you walked back over to Bakugous car and sat in the back seat letting the adrenaline in your body calm down as tears threatened to spill again. You choked them back as you watched the boys. Kirishima activated his quirk and shredded all of his tires while Bakugou set off a tiny explosion and popped open the door. He stood on the side of the car and and started fiddling with his pants. No. No way would he. It seemed like Kirishima thought the same thing. “Dude, you serious?” He asked the blonde.

“Yep. Fuck him. Plus I gotta pee so piss off before your eyes pop out of your head!”

“God damn man.” Kirishima came and sat next to you shaking his head and laughing. “Guys nuts.”

You couldn’t help but giggle slightly at the absurdity of what was happening. “Yeah….Hey Kiri?” You looked up at him with your eyes still puffy and red from the tears earlier as he looked down at you with a soft smile, “Thank you. It’s childish and extremely illegal….but I do feel kind of better. After everything, I just want him to feel even the tiniest bit of what I felt…and I even feel guilty about that.”

“Hey. This guys a jackass. He deserves everything he gets and we’ve got your back. You’re too gentle for your own good.”

“I know. Maybe that’s why he hurt me….Because I let him. I just keep thinking, if I’d just given him what he wanted, would he love me? Would he still have done it? Was I just not enough?”

“Stop.” You looked at Bakugou in shock from the demanding tone in his voice. You hadn’t even notice him walking to Kirishimas door. “I’m an asshole but I would never treat a girl the way this bastard did. If you weren’t ready then that’s your choice, not his and he should have respected it. He’s not a man, he’s a rat.”

The tears spill out again as you give the boys a soft smile.

“We should probably go before someone comes out.”

The drive back to your dorm feels lighter. You feel a little lighter. You still can’t help feeling a little guilty about what you did but it’s done now and you can’t take it back.

As you get back into the dorms, Kiri and Baku follow you to your room and sit with you for a while.

“Do you want us to stay with you tonight? We’ll just lay with you if you want?” Kiri asks with his soft smile.

“Would you?” You can’t help but look down at your hands nervously. They’re your best friends and you know they wouldn’t try anything especially knowing what you’d just gone through but still…

“Of course.” Bakugou lays against the wall and Kirishima lays on his side on the edge of the bed with you in the middle. The warmth from them both had you falling asleep within seconds, the boys following suit not long after... You didn’t know what the morning held for the three of you, but whatever it was could wait as this moment right here just felt……right.

#bnha #kirishima #bakugou #bnha imagines #kirishima x reader #bakugou x reader

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turning-dreams-into-chaos · 5 years ago

Text

The Chameleon (Part 2)

*Not my Gif*

~Part 1~

Post Date: 4-8-20

Paring: Barry Allen x Reader, Cisco Ramon x Reader, Team Flash x Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

FUTURE WARNINGS: Dealing w/ Trauma and attempted/mentions suicide

~Master~

~Flash Master~

*Also keep in mind, I will (and did) ignore timelines in the show cause I wanna fuck with everything 😊*

Barry and Cisco sat in the Cortex, tossing Candy into each other’s mouths. “Watch this.” Barry told his friend as he chucked the M&M across the room and ran, skidding into place right into time to catch the thing in his mouth. His hands went into the air in victory, a bragging smirk on his face as he fell back into his chair.

“Not bad, not bad. But watch the master.” Cisco chucked the candy harder across the room much like Barry did, but moments before it collided with the floor, he had opened a breach, sending the candy right into his mouth. Unfortunately, the M&M went straight down his throat as he started coughing and Barry tried to help him, patting his back but ultimately chuckling. Cisco finally spit the thing out, taking deep breaths before either of them realized amongst the chaos an alarm went off.

Cisco coughed out, trying to find the source of the noise. “Uh, it’s a breach opened. It looks like it’s the alley next to Jitters.” He barely got the words out of his mouth before Barry donned his suit and ran out of the building. The streets were crowded as he raced by, but the alley was almost empty when he stopped next to a dumpster.

Almost empty.

“What the hell?” Barry whispered into his coms as saw you lying on the ground, eyes shut closed as you held something in your hand. Barry looked around, trying to find anyone else who could’ve caused the breach.

He took a few steps closer to you, on edge just in case you turned out harmful. “Hey, are you okay?” You didn’t say anything, trying to open your blinking eyes as Barry felt worried for you. “Ma’am?”

Your eyes peeled open as Barry saw the struggle from the light and he moved to block the sun. He took the time to study you, trying to figure you out before you spoke up. “Bartholomew?”

You saw his shoulders tensed as he looked at you, standing up completely and taking a few steps away. It wasn’t until the light caught your eye did the reality set in and you clutched the extrapolator in your hand before shoving it in your pocket, turning to where the blue light had left you. “No.” you mumbled as you could only see the brick wall in front of you. “No…” you ran your hand across the wall. “No! No!” Barry jumped when you started screaming, punching the wall and saying the words “Take me back! I can’t leave him!”

“Stop!” he yelled over you, coming to your side and bringing your arms down gently. You felt his touch, swinging your arm around to punch him but he caught it easily with a speed you hadn’t seen coming. Your head was pounding as you looked up into his big brown eyes, the familiarity just striking you to your core.

“Bartholomew…” Your head started to spin, a sudden rush of blood sending your head rolling to the side with one last mumble. “Bart…” Barry caught you the moment you started to fall over. He had no idea what was going on, all he knew was you came out of a breach, one you obviously wanted to return in to, knowing Barry’s name. and now you were passed out in his arms.

“Barry? What’s going on?” Cisco asked over his com as Barry sighed, his arm moving under your legs to hoist you in the air before rushing back to STAR labs. Cisco grabbed the papers around him, keeping Barry’s wind from blowing all over. “We really need to get paperweights!” He yelled before seeing Barry rushing into the med bay and laying you down on a bed. “Oh shit.” He held down the button to call Caitlin. “Caitlin, we need you!”

Caitlin rushed into the cortex, her heels clicking with each step as Iris followed behind. “What’s wrong?” Caitlin asked before seeing you on the bed. Barry kept his eyes on you, not trusting in the least bit that anything good was to come of this situation.

“She came through a breach and passed out. I brought her here.” Caitlin immediately began checking you out, the three others standing and watching her. Barry cross his arms, bring a hand up to pull off his mask.

“Woah, what if she wakes up and sees you?” Cisco said as he and Iris both paid attention to Barry, heading out of the med bay, letting Caitlin do her thing.

Barry shook his head. “She already knew my name. I didn’t even have to take my mask off.”

“Do you know her?” Iris asked, rubbing the back of her fiancé. Barry glanced back at you, seeing Caitlin put away her things and join them.

“No. I don’t recognize her at all.” He told them. He couldn’t help but stare at you, hearing the machine Caitlin hooked you up beep steadily. Everyone turned to look as well.

“She should wake up soon. A few minor cuts and bruises on her, but the one I’m most worried about is on her head.”

“Is that why she passed out?” Barry interrupted her, furrowing her brows. Caitlin nodded.

“Ok, can we get back to how she knows you?” Iris asked, leaning onto Barry. Cisco nodded, looking to Barry for answers he didn’t have. Caitlin furrowed her brows.

“Wait she knew you?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t call me Barry, she called me Bartholomew.”

“Do you think she’s from a different earth?” Barry shrugged at Cisco’s question, about to answer before his phone buzzed, telling him Joe needed him for a crime scene.

“I gotta go. Text me when she wakes up.” Iris and him left the lab hand in hand.

Cisco and Caitlin carried their day as normal, Cisco working on his newest invention and Caitlin spent the time checking on you, waiting for you to wake. She hadn’t found any signs of you being a meta-human so they skipped the meta-cuffs, using a normal pair to handcuff you to the bed. A few hours later, and several times Barry came back to check on you, you finally started stirring.

You opened your eyes, groaning at the brightness of the room. Silhouettes of people boarded your eyes when you opened them wider, feeling the stiff cold metal on your wrist.

You started to pull against it, making Caitlin jump and place a hand on your shoulder. “You’re okay! You’re okay!” You calmed down slightly, hearing a rushed clicking of heels followed by a softer, more thud of footsteps as two more people entered the room. You looked at the people in the room, the doctor who calmed you, a long black-haired man, a duo who looked to be father and daughter, and then him.

“Bart...” your voice was quiet, enough you thought they wouldn’t here but when Barry furrowed his brows, you knew at least he did.

“How do you know my name?” He asked, skipping all formalities. You stayed silent, coming up with a way to explain everything. “Who are you?”

“It’s a long story.” You told them. Their Bart just leaned back on the wall, giving you the go ahead to start talking. “Ok, I guess the first thing is my name’s Y/N and I’m not from this earth.” You didn’t hear a scoff coming from anyone, no demand to know who you ‘truly were’ and realized they knew about the multiverse.

“How did you get here?” The long haired man questioned you as you tried to reach into your pockets, only to pull on the metal cuffs. You groaned, letting your wrist settle.

“Any chance I can get these removed?” You smirked but no one made any move. You didn’t expect them too, really. You were always the most cautious on your team, Nora was always the one who trusted everyone. You cleared your throat, shaking away the thoughts of your team as you reached with your other hand, pulling out your extrapolator.

The device was taken out of your hands by the long haired man and you watched him look it over. “You made this?” You nodded your head, seeing a smirk appear on his lips. “Damn Girl.” Cisco passed it to Barry who took a look at it as well.

“So why’d you come here?”

You hesitated, leaning your head back on the pillow and closing your eyes. “I didn’t have a choice. Something happened on my earth. I barely got out.”

“What happened?” You couldn’t answer Iris’ question. You didn’t know what had happened, it all happened so fast and suddenly. Your eyes opened, clearing the memories from your conscious and swallowing.

Barry didn’t have to hear your answer to know something happened and by the way your eyes softened every time they landed on him, only to harden when you pulled away. “Guys can I have a minute.”

They all looked at him but his eyes remained on you. “Barr, are you sure?” The woman next to him asked. He nodded her hand, grabbing hers and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

You had to look away. You knew it wasn’t Bart, your Bart, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt to see it. Everyone filed out of the room, leaving you and the doppelgänger of the man you loved. He didn’t speak again, instead surprising you by releasing your cuffs.

“Thanks.” You mumbled as he smiled down to you, making your heart leap out of your chest. You sat up fast, hoping he couldn’t see the change in your expression as he pulled up a medical stool.

“You’re welcome.” He glanced to the main cortex, seeing his friends standing around, taking looks at the two of you every so often. “So you were a part of Team Flash on your earth?” You nodded, playing with your fingers.

“Yeah, for about 5 years. You have more people though. On my earth it was just Nora, Bart, and I.”

“Barry.” He interrupted, making you raise a brow at him. He shrugged, his mouth upturning to a smile again. “I go by Barry here.” You scrunched your face up, a slight grin coming into play as you remembered a certain conversation with Bart about nicknames and how he’d never let anyone call him Barry.

“Why?” You joked as Barry caught sight of your grin, knowing you’re messing with him, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued by you. “I mean, Barry is just so...” you trailed off, tilting your head to the side as Barry laughed.

“And Bart is better?”

“At least Bart doesn’t sound like a dogs name.” He looked only slightly taken back as he chuckled, throwing his hands up in surrender.

You could help but relate Barry to Bart, They were so similar it scared you; you already lost one of them. Barry’s smile began to fade. “What happened with your earth?”

“I told you I wasn’t sure, but before I left something something happened. I don’t know what happened. I don’t think anyone did. One minute everything was fine and the next... no one was safe. The skies turned red and the sun, the sun blew up. The ground collapsed in and it was gone. Bart gave me the extrapolator seconds before-“ you voice cracked as you felt tears start falling onto your shirt, wiping them off quickly. Barry felt something shift until his head as he reached out, grabbing your hand. Your eyes met his, one glimpse of your old world, of Bart, shining through. “I watched my team die today.” Your voice was brittle and you felt Barry squeeze your hand, offering you comfort.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He whispered.

You nodded, wiping away the last of your tears before letting go of his hand. “Yeah. Me too.” Barry didn’t know what came over him but when you let go of his hand, he want to keep holding yours again.

The team started to come back in, each offering you a small smile as they introduced themselves to you. Bart, Barry told you there were more people that weren’t there and you had to laugh. Your team was so small compared to theirs.

It was obvious they all trusted Barry when he said you were alright and with a few more checks Caitlin said it was alright for you to get up.

Your legs were a little wobbly at first and Barry reached out, giving you someone to hold onto. You missed the way Iris furrowed her brows, crossing her arms in front of her chest as you were focused mainly on the room.

It was almost similar to yours. Yours was a lot more clean, anytime you’d make even a small mess, Bart was there to clean it up, chastising you, but after all the years you’ve known the twins you got used to it.

You gently pushed yourself out of Barry’s arms, feeling a sense of nostalgia as you looked towards the console in front of you, not seeing Nora talking to Bart through the coms, their typical sibling banter filling the room and making you laugh. You smiled heartbroken at the memories.

Barry watched you, his curiosity peaking as he watched your fingers danced across the desk before you ripped them away. Cisco stepped up to you, throwing his arm around your shoulder and Barry felt something unsettling inside of him. A feeling he used to get quite often when he saw Iris with anyone. He pushed the feeling aside, shaking his head. You looked at Cisco next to you, seeing the smile on his lips that couldn’t hold a candle to ones Bart or even Barry wore before he spoke up. “Welcome to Earth-1.”

A/N: Thoughts are welcomed! Let me know if you want to be tagged by commenting!

Tags are open!

Permanent: @literal-fand0m-trash @just4muggles @saturn-aka-six @nathaliabakes @whyamihere-bro @colored-confetti @wiseeggspickleslime @btsiguess-kpop @galacticstxrdust @independentgirl @wellhellotherelovey @hollymac79 @delicately-important-trash @emcchi @rauwz @herondalescecilys @chewymoustachio

Chameleon: @treestarrrrrrrr @freaky-fangirl-psychopath @patat-boi @kurtbashtianlover

#Barry Allen x Reader #Barry Allen imagine #Barry Allen #Chameleon #cisco ramon x reader #cisco ramon imagine #cisco ramon #team flash x reader #team flash imagine #team flash #flash x reader #flash imagine #flash #the flash #part 2

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blackhakumen · 5 years ago

Text

Mini Fanfic #471: Fireworks in the Beautiful Night Sky (RWBY)

9:08 p.m. Patch, Outside of Team JNPRO's Residence

Pyrrha: (Amazed at the Fireworks in the Sky While Snuggling Alongside her Lovers) These fireworks..... They've gotten a lot beautiful as of late, hasn't it?

Jaune: (Smiles Softly) Sure is.... It's kinda been a while since any of us sre them.

Pyrrha: Wait....(Turns to the Rest of the Team) You three haven't been able see fireworks at all these past three years?

Nora: (Rubbing the Back of her Head Back and Forth) Yeah....We haven't really gotten the chance see one.

Ren: We were still on a quest to stop Salem at the time. And given all of the events that happened during that quest....It gotten a bit harder for all of us to enjoy a normal holiday.....

Pyrrha: Oh....(Immediately Starts Feeling Bad and Looking Down on the Ground) I see.....

Nora: H-Hey, now! It's okay! There's nothing to worry about, Pyrrha. Really!

Jaune: Yeah! I-I mean, sure, we've been through literal hell and everything, but we've always found a way pull through.

Ren: (Smiles Softly) And it all pays off in end. Even now that you're here with us again.

Pyrrha: (Slowly but Surely Begins to Smile Again) ('Sigh') You guys are right...It hasn't even been a year later and we've already started to become more than just a team or even lovers....We became an actual, loving family.....(Frowns a Little in Worry) Speaking of which, where's Oscar? He's already missing the first half of the show.

Ren: He's in the kitchen. He said he wanted to make us a fresh batch of cookies, almost exactly how Mr. Xiao Long would make for us the last time we visited his home. It's ten minutes later and I'm already starting to get worried....

Jaune: About Kitchen or Oscar?

Ren: ............. Yes.

Nora: (Giggles Softly) Oh, relax, Renny. I'm positive our baby boy is going be okay in there........But if we have to wait another ten minutes, we're getting him out.

Ren: Sounds like a plan.

Pyrrha: (Giggles Softly) It seems we've became doting parents as well.

Nora: (Shrugged) Hey, when you have a farm boi who keeps getting himself to danger, you gotta do what you gotta do to be there for him, ya know?

Ren: (Rolled his Eyes) Nora started the whole "Parenting Role", in case you're wondering.....

Nora: (Pouts at Ren) I love him, okay?!!

Ren: So do all us, Nora.

Pyrrha: (Giggles Softly at her Two Lovers' Quarrel) Guys, c'mon. No fighting.

While the rest of the team were busy messing around, Jaune looks up at the nightly skies, filled with colorful fireworks. All of this while having a soft Smile on his face.

Jaune: Hey....You guys?

NPR: (Immediately Stop What They Were Doing and Turns to Jaune) Hm?

Jaune: Remember the time we all stayed at my parents' house the whole summer?

Nora: ('Gasps') Ah yeah! Remember that! You're entire family took us in and everything!

Pyrrha: (Remembers the Memory Very Fondly) Your mother and father were so kind and caring. Your sisters on the other hand.... (Giggles Softly) were quite a handful.

Nora: Are you kidding? They're were sooooooo much fun to be around!

Jaune: (Rolled his Eyes) For you maybe....

Ren: Are you still thinking about the time they tried to put make-up on the both of us?

Jaune: ('Groans in Annoyance') Yes....I mean, seriously! They been doing this to me ever since we were kids!! It's frustrating!!!

Ren: ('Sigh') Honestly, Jaune. It wasn't that big of deal. Granted, the make-up was a bit too much, but their choice of hairstyle on the other, did leave a pretty decent impression on me.

Jaune: That's because your hair is long and easy to work with! I, on the other hand, had short and shaggy hair. Which means I always end up with those... stupid short pigtails!

Pyrrha: (Pouts Playfully at Jaune) Jaune Arc! Those pigtails weren't stupid at all!~

Nora: Yeah! They look very cute on you~

Jaune: (Rolled his Eyes while Blushing) ('Psh') You two are just saying that.....

Pyrrha: (Hugs Jaune Affectionately) No we're not. We meant everything word of it~

Nora: We still love you no matter what kind of hairstyle you got for yourself. Even if it's a shape of a banana~ (Gives Jaune a Kiss on the Cheek)

Jaune: Really thought we were over the whole "Banana Hair" Shtick by now......

Ren: (Chuckles Lightly) Okay. As much as I would love to hear more inspiring insults towards of fearless leader's haircut, I'm kind of wanna know why you suddenly decided to bring all of this up, Jaune.

Pyrrha: Yeah.... Was there a special reason for it?

Jaune: (Rub the Back of his Head Back and Forth) Not exactly........I just wanted all of us to remember the few times we spent together. Our time at the academy, the missions we've gone to, the dance, festivals, the.....(Eyes Widened Once He Realized a Memory He Mean to Remember....As Tears Begins to Fall from his Eyes) tournament...., a-and.......('Sniff') And........

Ren/Nora: Jaune?

Pyrrha: (Immediately Starts Getting Worried) Honey? What's wrong?

Jaune: (Cover his Eyes From his Lovers) ('Sniff') I-It's nothing, you guys. Really. ('Sniff') D-Don't worry about it.

Pyrrha: (Gently Takes Jaune's Hand Away from his Saddened Face) Jaune, we know you're crying and starting to worry us. Please tell us what's wrong.

Jaune: (Finally Begins to Cry) I'm sorry! ('Sniff') I didn't mean to make you guys worry or anything. I just....('Sniff') I had think about EVERYTHING that happened to Beacon that day. Especially what....('Sniff') that monster Cinder did to-

Pyrrha: (Immediately Pulls Jaune in for a Loving Hug)

Jaune: (Taken Back from Pyrrha Sudden Hug) P-P-Pyrrha?

Pyrrha begins to take a deep breath before pulling away from the embrace and placing poth of her hands on Jaune's cheeks.

Pyrrha: Oh Jaune....I know those past few years weren't too kind to any of us....With me being dead and the rest of you went through so much stress and emotional trauma just to put an end to Salem....And I know this isn't easy to full get over....But I promise you here and now, as long as we got each other....(Tears Suddenly Begins to Fall Down Her Eyes) ('Sniff') We're going to be okay..... We'll get through this together.....('Sniff') And.... We'll NEVER be apart ever again!! (Pulls Jaune Back into a Loving Hug While Crying Softly)

Nora: (Frowns Sadly Once She sees her Two Lovers Crying Onto Each Others' Arms) You guys.......(Eyes Begins to Swell up in Tears) You know I hate seeing you like this! (Immediately Joins in on the Hug, Crying)

Ren: (Slowly But Surely Begins to Tear up As Well) ('Sniff')......

Jaune: R-Ren?

Pyrrha: ('Sniff') What's wrong, dear?

Nora: ('Sniff') I thought you said you only cry on the inside......

Ren: ('Sniff') (Tears Begin Fall Down his Face) Not anymore I don't.........

Nora: Well, don't just stand, Renny....('Sniff') Get over here and hug us already!!

Pyrrha: Please!!

Once Ren joins his way into the emotional group hug, the team turned lovers continue to cry their eyes out onto each of their embrace. All while the fireworks continues to show themselves onto the night skies. That is until......

'Front Door Opens'

Oscar: (Smiles Brightly (And a bit Tirelessly) While Holding a Tray of Baked Cookies) Okay! Sorry to keep you guys waiting, but I was finally able to bake the cookies for us tonight.

JNPR: (Looks up to Oscar with Teary Eyes)

Oscar: (Makes his way to the Group while Holding the Tray Carefully) Now I'm not entirely sure if it'll be as good as Mr. Xiao Long's, but-

Oscar's eyes begin to widened in shock and worry once he sees the rest of his family's tears filled faces.

Oscar: You guys...... I-Is everything's okay?

Jaune: Y-Yeah, bud. ('Sniff') Don't worry.....W-We were just.....('Sniff') Gotten ourselves into a Memory Lane is all.....

Oscar: (A Tad bit Unsure) Okay.....You guys know that I'm always here if you wanna talk, right?

Ren: (Smiles Softly) We know, son....('Sniff') And we could be anymore thankful......

Oscar: (Smiles a Little) You're always welcome..... And like I said before....(Joins in on the Family's Somewhat Emotional Cuddle Session) I made you guys cookies.

Pyrrha: (Smiles Lovingly and Tearfully) Oh Sweetheart, that's so sweet of you......('Sniff') We love them already....

Oscar: (Raising an Eyebrow in Disbelief) Guys, you.... didn't even try them yet. Heck, I'm still not even sure if they'll be half as good as Ruby's dad's are.

Nora: (Pulls Oscar In to a Loving Hug) Don't say that, sweetie!! ('Sniff') I promise we'll all love them. ('Sniff') Just as much as we love you!

Oscar: (Sighs as He Gives Nora A Kiss on the Cheek) I love you guys too. Just take as much time as you need to relax and calm yourselves before trying them out, 'kay?

JNPR: ('Sniff') Okay!

@optimisticfruitcup

@albion-93

@miki-13

@keyenuta

@rozanime

@ma-lemons

@maripr

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #lie ren #nora valkyrie #oscar pine #the arc family (mentioned)#taiyang xiao long (mentioned)#team jnpr as poly relationship #team jnpro #sweet family moment #remembering the past #humor #hurt/comfort towards the end #emotional fluff in the end #cuddling & snuggling #oscar is lowkey best son #independence week #have to edited it again to make it perfect. sorry about that

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primalrageanddumbassery · 4 years ago

Text

But Now I’ve Come Back To Wash Out The Stains

Summary: Jon and Martin have been wandering through the Fearpocalypse for Fear Gods only know how long (cause we all know that gods are vicious two-faced pricks). One day (or what passes for a day), they happen upon an Avatar of Death who thinks that they deserve something nice and offers to bring back Sasha and Tim for twenty minutes. Or The One Where Jon and Martin Can't Stop Being Tooth-Rottingly Sweet and, Oh Yeah, Tim and Sasha Are Here Too

CONTENT WARNINGS- Existentialism Long Musings about Death Description of Death Mention of Religion-Related topics (Heaven, afterlife)

Words: 6,827

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26982298

Jon took a deep, shaky breath. The door ahead of him was plain and gray with a simple black knocker. It was set in the frame of a drab little house painted completely white. There was no color around it- no grass, no trees, no bugs to decorate the dull black earth. Even the sky was clouded over here. He knew exactly what lay before him.

"Jon?" Martin's voice brought him out of his thoughts. Jon glanced up at him, trying his best to look brave. He certainly didn't feel brave, but he hoped his acting had improved since last he checked. Apparently it hadn't, as Martin reached out and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"What do you see?" Martin asked. Jon smiled, even chuckled a bit at the repetition, the familiarity.

"You. Of course, you." Martin nodded, satisfied with that answer.

"And I'm not going anywhere. Unless, of course, you have to do a statement, but even then I won't be very far away." Jon hummed happily.

"You're better than I deserve," he said. Martin chuckled.

"I must respectfully disagree, but thank you." Jon turned his eyes to the door again.

"Well, into the valley of death, I suppose." He raised his free hand to the knocker and let it fall once, the door swinging open before he could knock a second time. Jon jumped back in surprise, bumping into Martin who rested his steady hands on Jon's shoulders.

The man who had answered the door was very tall and built like a twig. He had dark brown skin, frizzy black hair pulled back into a ponytail, and wore a torn and dirty blue shirt with a red and yellow bird sporting the letters 'KU' on its side. Even with the filthiness of the apocalypse that hung around him, like everything else, he was the brightest-colored thing for miles around. His brown eyes surveyed the both of them.

"Oh. Okay," was all he said. He had an American accent. Jon glanced up at Martin.

"We're- um, we're-"

"-The Archivist and a former Avatar of the Lonely. I know. You've been well acquainted with my patron, the way I understand it," he said with a smile. Jon couldn't tell how genuine it was.

"Unfortunately, yes," he replied, hoping he betrayed no emotion. The man nodded.

"I'm Elliot," he said. "Please, come inside." Elliot disappeared inside the house. The two exchanged a look.

"He seems... okay," Jon reasoned. Martin's brow wrinkled in thought.

"Yeah. I guess he does." His eyes trailed to where Elliot had just been standing. "Well, Death isn't in a huge hurry, right? 'Cause it happens eventually? We probably won't, y'know, die in there or something... right?" Jon shrugged.

"Sound reasoning. In we go, then."

The inside of the house looked as normal as it possibly could, other than the lack of color. A small mudroom led into a sparsely decorated living room with high ceilings. Elliot gestured to a gray couch.

"Sit." It wasn't a request. They quietly complied as he took a black armchair.

"This, um, this is a bit different than most of the other domains," Martin pointed out. Elliot nodded. When he said nothing, Martin tried again. "It's not exactly what I'd expect for the domain of Death itself." At this, Elliot raised an eyebrow.

"No? How so?" Martin gestured around them.

"It's, you know, cozy. It's a home. I'd think death would be more... I don't know, dark? Gloomy?" Elliot smiled as though he'd been expecting that answer.

"The way I see it, this is just as likely a place as any to house Death. A living room for a wake. A home where somebody quietly passes in their sleep. The site of a cooking incident, fall down the stairs, a slip in the tub. There's a reason people don't want their parents living alone in their old age. It may not be a traditionally violent place, but Death knows the home just as well as anywhere else." Martin squirmed a bit. Jon grabbed his hand in a way that he hoped read as reassuringly, rather than 'wOW I'm freaked out too, babe hold my hand' (which it was).

"That's... fair enough, I suppose," Jon said.

"But enough about this place," Elliot said. "We have business." Jon's grip on Martin's hand tightened.

"W-we do?" Martin asked. Elliot nodded.

"Of course. Did you think I would just invite you in to chat? I assure you, Freeman, my patron has no shortage of Avatars. If I just wanted some company I have plenty of compatriots to choose from." Martin frowned.

"Um, no, no, my name isn't 'Freeman'. It's Martin Blackwood."

"Didn't ask for your name, Freeman, and I didn't misspeak. You're one of the few who got away from a fear. Do you know how rare you are? Sure, people touched by entities escape them every day, but to be claimed, fully claimed, and find a way to walk out..." Elliot's eyes were almost glazed in fascination. "You're a freed man. Hence, Freeman. It's a high compliment with those who see past the obsession with their patron." Martin looked lost in thought.

"Huh," he said quietly. Elliot's gaze turned to Jon.

"As I was saying, I have an offer for the two of you." Jon's eyes narrowed.

"We aren't making any deals," he said firmly. Elliot looked exhausted and annoyed, like he'd been trying to explain astrophysics to a very dull child.

"Archivist, did I say that it was a deal?" he asked slowly. Jon crossed his arms, taking his hand out of Martin's.

"You expect me to believe you're just offering us something that we'd want with no catch?" Elliot sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose.

"Something that I think you fail to grasp, although I'm not sure how, is that I'm getting anything I could want because of this apocalypse. I thrive off of the fear of death, I hope you at least understand that at this point?" He waited for Jon to reply, which he did reluctantly with a nod. "Then you understand that the fear of absolutely everyone in existence is feeling me more than well enough. This 'ruined' world that your..." He thought about it for a second."...boss is so proud of ruling is more than enough for me, my peers, and my patron to thrive off of. You'd be hard pressed to find anyone who isn't afraid to die in the apocalypse. As such, we hardly have to do anything at all to keep satisfied. So no, I don't want or need anything from you."

"Then why would you want to help us? We only just met you," Jon pointed out. Martin softly elbowed him.

"N-not that we aren't grateful for your help, of-of course," he added. Jon nodded. Elliot leaned forward, propping his elbows up on his knees.

"Simple," he said. "Pity." They frowned.

"I'm sorry?" Martin asked, incredulous.

"You heard me," Elliot said. "I've heard about the two of you, what you've been through to get here, and I gotta say- I don't envy either of you. When it comes down to it, I just feel bad for you. Like I said, you've become well acquainted with death, whether it's brushes with it yourselves or losing loved ones. While I can't permanently fix either of these, the latter I may be able to temporarily undo." Jon's eyes narrowed.

"You don't mean... you can't-" Elliot sat back in his chair.

"If you would let me finish, Archivist?" he requested. Jon's mouth closed. "Thank you. As I was going to say, all Avatars have specific skill sets that they are gifted to serve the one who claimed them, as I'm sure you know. More often than not, these skills are unique to the individual. I, personally, was given the power, for lack of a better word, to temporarily control the souls of the dead. I usually force my victims to see their loved ones at their last moments of life, especially if it was grizzly, amongst other things. Anyway, to my point- I think you two deserve something nice. As such, I will allow you each a chance to speak to anyone you please for twenty minutes, one person each. How does that sound?"

They were speechless and pale.

"I-" Jon exhaled, trying to determine his next words.

"We... we need time," Martin said. "We need to talk for a few minutes? In private?" Elliot nodded.

"Understandable, take your time." He stood up and went into another room. "Let me know when you've decided," he called, then shut the door.

They let out a collective breath.

"So," Jon said, but it was clear he didn't have anything to follow it up with.

"So," Martin agreed. They looked at each other as if the other's face might hide the answer.

"We... we have to make a decision," Jon whispered. Martin nodded, sighing.

"I mean, the obvious choice for me would be my mum, but I don't... I don't really want to see her?" he admitted, his cheeks flushing. Jon took his hands.

"Martin, that's perfectly okay. And very understandable with the way she treated you," Jon added. "You would be much better off choosing somebody who was good to you." Martin scoffed.

"Well, that narrows down the list significantly."

"Good, now it's easier to choose. I mean, obviously it's not good that your 'list' is populated by so many people who were unkind to you, I just meant-"

Martin kissed him on the cheek.

"I know what you meant, Jon, it's alright." Jon smiled.

"Let's see... oh! You could pick Tim or Sasha," he suggested. Martin's eyes lit up, but immediately dimmed.

"Oh, Jon, I couldn't pick just one of them! No, no, I'm better off picking my mum."

"You don't have to choose one, then," Jon said. Martin frowned.

"Um, yes, yes I do, remember? One each," he reminded Jon. Jon shrugged.

"Sure, but if you pick Tim and I pick Sasha, we can have both. So no, you don't have to choose just one." Martin eyed his warily.

"Jon, are you sure? Don't you have anyone you want to see?" Martin asked.

"Of course," Jon said with a shrug. "Tim and Sasha. I miss them too, you know." Martin thought about it.

"O-okay. Okay then. So... Tim and Sasha? Final decision?" Jon nodded, unable to stop a smile from creeping onto his face. Martin grinned back, feeling a little childish. "Alright. I'll go. Tell him, I mean." Jon gestured towards the door Elliot had disappeared into. As Martin went over and knocked on the door, Jon set to thinking about seeing his friends again, if he could even call them that. With a sudden chill falling over him, he remembered the state of his relationship with Tim right before he... before the Unknowing. Would Tim even be willing to talk to him? Would Sasha, after learning about what he'd done? Maybe this wasn't the best idea... well, it was too late now. Martin was excitedly telling Elliot of their decision. If nothing else, it would be worth seeing Martin happy, if only for twenty short minutes.

"So, Timothy Stoker and Sasha James, huh?" Elliot said. Jon nodded as Martin sat back down next to him, taking his hand again. "Friends of yours?"

Jon hesitated.

"Yes," Martin said firmly, seeming not to notice Jon's lack of confidence. Elliot nodded.

"Alrighty then. Now, it'll take a few minutes for them to show up, and I can only call up one at a time."

"Wait, we can't see them together?" Jon asked.

"That's not what I said," Elliot reminded him. "When both are here, you can see both together, but I have to call them separately. Does that make sense?"

"The twenty doesn't start until they're all the way here, correct?" Martin asked.

"Correct. And, just because I'm feeling strong today, I'll give you twenty minutes starting when the last one has arrived."

"Thank you," Jon said.

"Yeah, thank you so much," Martin echoed, his huge, sunshine-reminiscent smile lighting up his face and Jon's entire heart.

"Now, I'll need complete silence to do this, if you don't mind," Elliot said.

"Of course, of course," Martin said, looking around. "We'll..."

"-be in another room if that's alright?" Jon finished. Elliot nodded.

"Please. You can wait in the kitchen," he said, pointing to a wide doorway that they hadn't noticed.

"Okay, thank you," Martin repeated.

From the kitchen, they could see the back of the couch they'd been sitting on and it front of it where Elliot was kneeling, whispering things.

"How do you think it'll go?" Martin whispered. His eyes were full of so much emotion that it seemed a wonder he didn't burst on the spot.

"Truthfully, Martin? I don't know," Jon admitted. "I want it to go well so badly." Martin's kneejerk reaction was to say 'of course it will go well!', but knowing their situation, knowing who was involved in said situation, he couldn't rightly promise anything.

"Whatever happens, I'll still be here afterwards," he promised instead. That was the one thing he was positive of. "I said I'm not going anywhere and I meant it." Jon smiled as he was enveloped in a hug which he happily returned.

"I'm glad." There was a very brief silence. "Martin?"

"Yeah, Jon?"

"I love you so much. So, so, so very much," he said into Martin's jumper-clothed shoulder. Martin's arms tightened around him ever so slightly.

"I love you too, Jon. More than you know." Slowly, they pulled away. Jon glanced over at the living room and the Avatar.

"Wh- Martin! Martin, look!" he stage whispered, remembering their promised silence but still very excited. There wasn't a lot to be seen if you didn't know what you were looking for, but when you did you could tell that there was very visibly some pigment where there wasn't before. Some lilac purple in the vague shape of a skirt maybe? A hint of brown where hair could be? It might have been Jon's wishful thinking, but he swore he could make out the shape of a woman. A woman he knew he wouldn't recognize, but one that he knew he should.

"Sasha..." Martin breathed. As they watched, she slowly became clearer and clearer, although she stayed statue-still.

"I... I forgot that we didn't- we don't know what she actually looked like," Martin said softly.

"We will soon," Jon replied with a smile.

She was mostly there now. It was like looking at her without glasses on; unfocused, fuzzy, some color from one place bleeding into another. It was, Jon noticed, oddly similar to how he'd imagined her all these years. He knew what she wore, knew that her skin was light brown (courtesy of Melanie), knew her big, round glasses that took up a large percentage of her face, ones that were almost the same as Martin's (leading to plenty of 'twin' jokes from Tim). But as much as he knew about her, what she was supposed to look like, he could never even begin to picture her. This blurry, out of focus freeze-frame was the closest he really ever got. The current situation was oddly reminiscent of a dream where you're anticipating something you want more than anything, but you wake up the second before it happens. He didn't know who he was praying to, but he prayed that wasn't the case.

It was two whole, agonizing minutes before she was clear. And there she was.

"Almost done with the first one," Elliot called. He whispered one last thing, and then stepped back. She was still frozen, Jon noticed, his heart sinking.

"Why isn't she-"

"Patience, Archivist," Elliot hissed.

Sasha gasped, her eyes suddenly coming into focus.

"Wh... where am..."

"Hey, Sasha, it's okay," Martin said calmly, jumping at the chance to help. He slowly made his was towards her. She squinted at him.

"Mar...tin?"

"Yeah! Yeah, it's me!" he said, laughing a little. Tears that had been waiting for her to show pooled in his eyes immediately. Her face softened.

"Martin, what's- oof!" He bowled into her, enveloping her in one of his huge, warm hugs that almost knocked her over. His chest shook with sobs.

"Sasha, I'm so sorry we couldn't save you! We would have in a heartbeat, I swear! It's been hell since you..." He faded into sobs again. The look on her face was nothing short of confused, but she rubbed his back gently.

"Martin, it's alright, it's okay. Easy there..."

Martin pulled away when his breathing had evened out, almost a full minute later. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his jumper.

"Sorry that I'm... a mess," he chuckled. She smiled.

"It's alright, love, it's perfectly fine." Her eyes drifted around the room until they locked with Jon's.

"I'm sorry, is that- Jon? Jon Sims?" He smiled, giving a small wave.

"Hello, Sasha. It's really, really good to see you again." The double meaning of his words were lost on her.

"Good grief, your hair! Jon, your hair is so long! And almost completely gray! What on earth is going on?" Jon frowned, his brow creasing slightly.

"Do you... do you remember what happened?" he asked, keeping his voice as calm as he could. She pushed a stray strand of oak-brown hair behind her ear, as she always used to do when she was thinking. Her simple habits were so familiar that it hurt, even if the body doing her habits was alien to him.

"It's really fuzzy," she admitted. "But... the institute was attacked by Prentiss. Right?" Jon and Martin nodded. "And then we realized Tim was gone, I tried to save him, I talked to Elias, then..." Her face paled. "Oh. Oh, I remember," she said quietly. She looked at her hands. "How am I here?"

Jon gestured to Elliot, standing quietly off to the side.

"Avatar of Death. Wait, I forgot- you weren't there when we learned about-"

"I know about the Fears," she said, her expression cold. She glanced at Elliot. "Are you sure you can trust him?"

"For the most part, we think," Jon spoke up.

"Gee, thanks," Elliot said drily. "Now, do you want me to bring up your other friend or not?"

"Ah, yes. Sorry. We'll go back to the kitchen," Jon said apologetically. They led Sasha out of the living room.

"Other friend?" she asked. Martin smiled.

"He's bringing Tim back too, we get twenty minutes with you two," he explained, unable to mask his smile.

"Just... just because?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

"He said he feels sorry for us," Martin said. "And quite honestly, I'm too tired to be suspicious of him anymore. I just want to spend twenty minutes with my old friends, alright?" Sasha surveyed his face, slightly red and bordering on annoyed. Jon took his hand, rubbing his thumb over Martin's knuckles to soothe him.

"Alright, Martin, if you're sure," she said finally, offering her own smile. "Now, I haven't really gotten a good look at my boys yet." She stepped back, looking them up and down. "Wow, you two look old," she said. Jon laughed abruptly.

"Thanks, Sasha," he said with an eye roll. She watched him, clearly amused.

"And Jon, you're so much more... expressive." He smiled.

"Well, I don't have the stick up my ass anymore, so that certainly helps," he quipped. Sasha roared with laughter.

"I imagine so," she said. Martin chuckled, putting an affectionate arm around Jon's shoulders.

"He is a lot better and I'm very proud of him," he said, the love in his eyes spreading to his smile. Sasha shifted her weight to one leg and crossed her arms, but said nothing.

"Suppose he's almost done with Tim yet?" Martin asked, straining his neck to see over the couch. Sure enough, Tim was almost completely visible, but there was something different from the way Sasha had appeared. While Sasha had slowly faded into focus, it was almost like Tim was burning in reverse. Small, almost imperceptible fragments at a time, but they could still see the bizarre process. The parts of him there were frozen in a stance with his knees bent, one arm clutching his torso and the other up at an odd angle with his hand in a fist. Like he was holding something.

"Oh my," Martin breathed.

The boys knew exactly what he was supposed to be holding.

"What is he doing?" Sasha asked, squinting. Jon turned his head away, his eyes clamped shut. He subconsciously rubbed the burn on his side from the blast.

"It's... how he died," Jon said quietly. "Explosion." Sasha looked like the wind was knocked out of her.

“He- oh, Tim,” she whispered.

“So you didn’t, you know, see anything?” Martin asked. “From, like, heaven or something?” he elaborated. Sasha thought about it for a second.

“I remember… some things, but I don’t think I can tell you any of it. I mean literally, if I tried I think something bad would happen.” Martin looked a little disappointed.

“That makes sense, I suppose,” he said. She put her hand on his arm, unable to rest her hand on his shoulder due to his enormous height.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Martin. You have a while yet before you have to deal with the afterlife, I’m sure.” He laughed humorlessly, opening his mouth in what was probably a protest, but she interrupted him. “That wasn't a suggestion. I’d better not see you there anytime soon, Martin Blackwood,” she said, leaving the threat open. He shut his mouth, blushing. “And that stands for you too, Sims,” she said pointedly. Jon gave a small smile.

“We’ll certainly try,” he promised.

“Hey, you three,” Elliot said. “You’ll want to be over here when he comes to.” Sasha’s eyes lit up.

“Tim’s almost done!” she gushed. She grabbed their wrists and dragged them back into the living room. Elliot was just stepping back when they reached him.

Now that they could see him clearly, the desperate, crazy, pained, and triumphant look on his face was that much clearer. It was terrifying, in all honesty. Sasha tried not to dwell on it, instead waiting in earnest for him to come to life.

“You might back up, Sash, so you don’t overwhelm him,” Martin suggested. “Last he knew, you were dead; seeing you might be a bit of a shock.” Sasha reluctantly took a few steps back, but no more. At last, Tim gasped, looking around wildly.

“What the hell?” he muttered. His eyes caught on Sasha, softening.

“S...Sasha,” he whispered. She smiled.

“Hi, Tim,” she said softly. He searched her face almost hungrily, drinking in every detail.

“Holy shit, I’m dead,” he said finally, more to himself than anyone else. Elliot seemed to have enjoyed the last sentiment, so he piped up.

“Usually, yes, but not right now you aren’t,” he corrected. Tim squinted at him.

“And who the hell are you?” he demanded, crossing his arms.

“My name is Elliot, but what’s important to you is that I’m an Avatar of Death,” he explained. Martin stepped forward.

“He’s agreed to help us, Tim,” Martin explained. “He brought back you and Sasha for twenty minutes for us.” Tim’s eyebrows raised gently, a smile slowly growing on his face.

“Martin,” he said. Martin grinned.

"Hi, Tim." Tim's smile suddenly dimmed.

"Wait… us?" he asked, looking around until he spotted Jon. Jon seemed to shrink into himself under Tim's gaze.

"H…hi, Tim," he said quietly. Tim's expression betrayed nothing, positive or negative. It was almost worse to Jon than if he'd been outwardly angry.

Sasha frowned, looking back and forth between Jon and Tim, visibly confused. She opened her mouth to say something, but Martin caught her eye with a fierce glare and swiped his hand in front of his neck, miming to stop. Sasha closed her mouth.

"Hi, Jon," he said stiffly. Jon winced, his eyes misty.

"Look, Tim, I-I know this means nothing, but I really am-"

"Oh, save it," Tim interrupted. Jon's mouth hung open, mid sentence.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me, Sims. You've apologized before. It didn't work then, definitely isn't working now, but if we only have twenty minutes for this, there's no sense in spending it at each other's throats, right?" Jon's eyes were filled to the brim with gratefulness. And tears.

"Thank you, Tim," he said softly in disbelief. Tim shrugged slightly.

"Yeah, yeah. Just remember that you aren't off the hook. The second you get up there, it's pure spite 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, got that?" he asked. Jon chuckled, wiping his eyes.

"Yeah, yes. Yes I do." Tim lightly punched his arm. Jon fidgeted with the ends of his sleeves, smiling a small smile.

"Awww, my boys!" Sasha gushed, pulling them all into a surprise hug. "You three are such a mess without me," she cooed.

"Can't argue with that," Martin chuckled, leaning over a bit so he didn't completely tower over the five-foot-four Sasha. Jon let himself be smothered by the hug, melting into the arms of everyone around him. It had been so long, so long since he'd felt anything resembling safety, even longer still since he'd been around so many people he trusted. Martin was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him, no doubt about that, but there's only so much void one man can fill when there used to be three.

"Oh dear, Jon," Martin cooed, taking his arm from around Sasha's shoulders and using his sleeve to wipe at Jon's damp cheeks. He hadn't even realized that he had been crying.

"Oh good grief," Jon sniffled, swiping at his own eyes. "I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's alright, love," Martin said softly, lightly touching his forehead to Jon's from across the hug circle. Jon smiled, letting out what was somewhere between a sob and a laugh. Tim made a sound of surprise.

"I- I'm sorry," he said, pulling out of the hug so he could gesture at his living friends dramatically. "Is that what I think it is?" Sasha chuckled, pulling away as well to look them up and down. Martin wasted no time putting one of his free arms around Jon whose eyes were slowly drying.

"I knew it!" she said, grinning. Tim turned to her, a betrayed expression on his face.

"You knew about this? And you didn't tell me?"

"To be fair, Tim, we've been reanimated for all of about three minutes. 'Hey, Tim, by the way, I think Jon and Martin are a couple' wasn't exactly at the top of my priorities." Martin let out a small chuckle. Tim turned back to them.

"So it's true then?" he demanded. Jon looked up at his much taller partner with an expression nothing short of completely in love.

"Yes, Tim," he said finally. "Martin and I are… a couple." Martin's face lit up and he planted a kiss in Jon's long, tangled hair. Tim whipped around to Sasha.

"I am so mad," he declared. Sasha raised her eyebrows.

"Tim, they look really happy together…" she pointed out, the look in her eyes a vibrant blue Tread Lightly, Stoker sign.

"Oh, I know," he said, "I've known for five years, Sash. I made a bet about it with you," he hissed, punctuating 'you' with a pointed jab into her sternum.

It was clear that he wasn't actually angry in any way, but when Tim went off about something, he went off.

"You what?" Martin demanded, his voice going up several octaves. Tim ignored him and kept going.

"And you know what, Sasha? We're dead! We don't use earth currency anymore! Meaning you can't give me the 15 pounds you owe me!"

Sasha threw her head back in laughter, her fringe bouncing. Jon made a point to remember this action. It seemed like it should look so familiar to him. It was something he knew she had done frequently when she laughed, he knew that. He decided to ask Elliot if he had any Polaroid cameras around before their twenty minutes was up.

"Seriously, you two bet on whether or not we'd get together?" Martin squeaked. Sasha smiled sheepishly.

"To be fair, Martin, you two have been at least a little bit in love for pretty much the entire time you've worked together," she pointed out. Jon thought about this.

"I… I suppose that's true," he said quietly, blushing. "On my side, at least." Martin looked down at him, brow wrinkled and mouth upturned in a disbelieving smile.

"Uh, Jon, did you even see me the first year we worked together?"

"Yeah, mate, he wasn't exactly subtle," Tim pointed out, chuckling. Jon frowned.

"Really?" he asked, looking up at Martin. Martin nodded with a small giggle. Jon hummed.

"News to me," he said. Sasha snorted.

"Martin Blackwood is morosexual, part two-hundred-and-four," Tim muttered. Jon laughed in surprise.

"Shut up, Tim!" Martin cried, trying not to laugh (and failing). Tim grinned that shit-eating grin of his.

"I'm right and I should say it." He glanced at the arm chair behind him. "Okay, was anybody going to tell me I could've been sitting down this whole time or was I just supposed to figure it for myself?" Sasha rolled her eyes, taking a seat next to him. He shifted to sitting on the arm rest so she could have the whole chair.

"Tim, it's a perfectly big chair and you have the width of a telephone pole. We could've shared," she pointed out. He shrugged.

"Curse of the bisexual, Sash; you know I can't sit correctly." Martin and Jon sat on the sofa together.

"Oh my gosh, Jon is the same," Martin interjected. Jon froze, legs already contorted into some weird version of the pretzel. Martin laughed. "Case in point." Jon pulled his ponytail over his shoulder so he could mess with it, a little embarrassed.

"Guilty as charged," he admitted with a small smile. "Sitting normally is awful." Tim waved his hands at Jon, keeping perfect eye contact with Sasha as if to say 'See? He gets it!'

"You're both weird," she said with a shrug.

"Seriously," Martin agreed. Jon gave him a playful shove. "What?" he said with a laugh. "You are!"

"To quote one of the greatest minds of our time," Tim said, promptly clearing his throat, "'We know, but hey!'" Sasha exhaled sharply in place of a laugh.

"Did you just quote John Mulaney?" she asked.

"Of course I did. I'm ashamed you had to ask."

With his own laugh, Jon recalled the week that Tim discovered John Mulaney. You were lucky to hear him say anything that wasn't a quote for at least a month afterwards. His favorites were "I said, y'know, like a liar" and "y'know those days when you're like 'this might as well happen'?", or so it seemed, as Tim used the two religiously.

"You are the only reason I know that," Sasha said, shaking her head.

"And I'm very proud of that," he returned. Suddenly, his face fell.

“Tim?” Martin asked, ready to get up if necessary.

“I just realized that Mr. Mulaney is either dead or in a fear prison,” he said quietly. “Holy shit, so is literally everybody else. Holy shit.” Jon looked at the ground. He felt Martin’s huge hand envelop his and give a gentle squeeze. It’s not your fault and you know that, the squeeze said. You were manipulated. We don’t blame you, love. Jon smiled ever so slightly, putting his head on Martin’s shoulder.

“That’s why we’re going to the panopticon. We’re gonna kill Elias," Martin said firmly. Tim looked pleasantly surprised by this.

"A- you? You, Martin Blackwood, are going to kill Elias Bouchard?"

"Jonah Magnus, actually," Jon corrected. "But yes, that's the plan." Tim whistled.

"That's some intense character development, right there," he said. Jon smirked up at Martin.

"He's been… more murder-y, of late," Jon said teasingly. Martin's jaw dropped.

"Out of context!" he cried.

"So you have been more murder-y, then?" Sasha asked, the awe visible on her face. Martin flushed red.

"In broad terms, yeah, I guess so. I have been a bit…" He sighed. "Murder-y." Tim howled with laughter. "To be fair, most of them deserve it!" Martin added.

"Most of them!" Sasha wheezed.

"He hasn't actually killed anyone yet," Jon assured them.

"Keyword- yet,"Martin muttered. Jon snorted. "When we find Simon, though-"

"Martin, we are not killing Simon Fairchild," Jon said sternly. Martin pouted.

"Oh, come on, not even a little murder?" Jon laughed abruptly.

"A little murder? Sure, I suppose, as long as you only murder him a tiny bit," Jon chuckled. Martin smirked.

"Score."

"How does one murder a little bit?" Sasha whispered to Tim.

"Frankly, Sash, I'm too afraid to ask at this point." They all erupted into laughter.

Jon had missed this more than he could say. Meaningless chatter, conversations that had no purpose other than enjoying the company of those around you. Sasha's motherly tone, Tim's easy smile… he absorbed everything around him and held them close to his heart. They were so familiar to somebody he used to be, somebody he was glad that he was not anymore. He tried to relax back into their patterns, even with his part having changed. The Jon whom Sasha never met, the changed man Tim was too hurt to see, he fit well into their little group. The old archival staff, bruised and battered and torn and traumatized, but together again.

But as hard as Jon tried to relax, he Knew their time was drawing to a close. At first he ignored it, too overwhelmed with joy to pay any mind to that itching knowledge. As the time went on, though, the voice grew louder in his head.

You have three minutes, Archivist, it hissed now, sounding like old, crinkly paper and whirring tape recorder and knowledge itself.

"Jon?" Martin asked softly, bringing him back to the present. Jon looked up tiredly.

"Three minutes," he said quietly. Martin's face fell.

"Oh." They looked at Tim and Sasha in the armchair.

"Well," Tim said grimly. "I guess we should… finish up, then." Suddenly, Jon remembered his idea about the Polaroid. He stood up abruptly.

"Hold on," he said. "Elliot! Ellioooot!" The avatar poked his head out of his office.

"I'm death, Archivist, not deaf," he deadpanned. "What do you want?"

"Do you have a Polaroid?" Jon asked timidly.

"Like, a camera?" Elliot asked. Jon nodded. Elliot thought about it for a second.

"I mean… I think so? Yeah… yeah, in my laundry room, I think."

"May I borrow it?"

"Oh, I suppose. I'll look for it, you go spend spend the rest of your time with your friends." Jon nodded.

"Thank you." He rushed back over to the three of them, locked in a hushed circle, not sure what they could possibly say that would mean enough.

"Tim, Sasha," Jon said, breaking the silence. "I- that is- I'm- I'm glad we had this," he said at last. "It meant the world to me that I was able to apologize, to… say goodbye…" He sighed deeply. "I miss you two."

"We both do," Martin added. Jon nodded.

"Yeah. I…" He took a deep breath. "I love you guys so much," he croaked, his throat tightening as he felt the tears return.

"Oh, Jon," Sasha cooed, closing her arms around him. "We love you too." Tim followed suit, then Martin. They cried, oh they cried. Everyone cried into the fabric of everyone's clothes, all too much of a collective mess to care one way or another. A great, messy group hug featuring two almost-ghosts, a puppet for a malevolent eye god, and an ex-errand-boy for the spirit of loneliness itself in the living room of a junior angel of death. What a sight.

"I got it!" Elliot called. They all looked up, disoriented, having forgotten about him entirely. He waved a Polaroid camera at them. Jon's face lit up.

"Oh! Yes, thank you!" Jon said, wiping his eyes. "Guys, could we take a picture? Just so I'll believe it actually happened tomorrow," he said, only half joking.

"Oh! Sure!" Sasha said, readjusting her glasses. Tim groaned.

"Right after we've been bawling our eyes out? This is when you decide to take a picture? I look awful, and I'm the hot one. You guys don't stand a chance!" Sasha elbowed him.

“Be nice, Tim.” He put his hands up in defense.

“Basira said it, not me.” Jon wracked his brain for when that could have occurred. He frowned, the realization dawning on him.

“Timothy Stoker, were you listening in on me and Basira’s conversation that day?” Tim grinned.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Jon rolled his eyes. “Wonderful. Alright, guys, everybody group in.” He held the camera out to take the picture but Martin sighed and took it from him.

“Wh- Martin!” he whined.

“You have the shortest arms of anyone I have ever met, my love,” Martin said in his defense. Jon pouted but didn’t protest. “Smile, Jon.” Jon forced on a smile that looked just as fake as it was. Martin kissed him on the cheek, making him erupt into a fit of giggles just as the camera clicked.

“Martin!” Jon complained between laughs as Martin took the picture out of the camera. Sasha cooed.

“You two are legitimately made for each other,” she said. Martin pressed a kiss to Jon’s mess of hair.

“I certainly like to think so.” Tim scoffed.

“Sasha, you always complained when I was that cheesy! What is this ridiculous double standard?” Sasha stood on her tiptoes to kiss Tim’s nose.

“Because you were bad at it, Stoker.” He sighed.

“There’s just no pleasing you, is there?”

Martin made a small squeaky sound, the Polaroid picture fluttering to the ground.

“Martin?” Sasha asked, concern written all over her face.

“You’re… you’re fading,” he said softly. They looked down. Just as they had appeared, Sasha was starting to become less visible and Tim looked like he was fading into dust.

“Good lord,” Jon breathed. Sasha had a mildly panicked look on her face. She gathered all of them together for one last hug.

“Hey, give Elias a hard time for me, a’right?” Tim said.

“Be careful, take care of each other, we love…” Sasha’s “you” was barely audible. It might not have even been there; maybe the sound Jon thought he heard was wishful thinking, but he clung to her voice as the last bits of their friends disappeared. Then it was just the two of them, hugging each other and crying in the empty, monochrome living room. Jon couldn’t say how long they just stood there, holding each other as tight as possible. Jon marveled at how Martin was so solid, so here, one hand on Jon’s back as the other held the back of his head, buried in his ponytail. Jon rubbed his back gently, admittedly just as much for his own comfort as it was for Martin’s. After a few minutes, the sobs having died down to hiccuping, Jon cleared his throat.

“Martin?” Martin hummed in response. “I’m so glad you’re here.” Martin pulled out of the hug just enough to look at Jon’s face. He cupped Jon’s jaw with a big, soft hand.

“There is nowhere else I’d rather be. Even if we weren’t in the fearpocalypse.” Jon smiled, turning his head to kiss Martin’s palm.

After a while, Martin remembered the picture he’d dropped on the ground. He picked it up and turned it over.

“Jon, have a look at this.” Jon took it from him. If not for the slightly shimmery state of Tim and Sasha (apparently having started to fade even before Martin pointed it out), it could have passed for a normal picture of a group of friends. Tim was winking, Sasha’s head was tilted back in a laugh, Jon was blushing profusely and caught in a giggle, and Martin’s lips were pressed to Jon’s rouged cheek.

“We look happy,” Jon said with a smile. Martin put an arm around Jon’s shoulders.

“Yeah.”

“Great, you’re happy, fantastic. Will you please get out of my house?” came Elliot’s voice from behind them. They both jumped.

“Oh, uh, right. Right,” Jon said. Martin caught his eyes, mouthing 'Forgot this was his place'.

Jon tried to stifle a chuckle, mouthing 'Same here'.

"Thank you for this," Martin said. "Really, it meant the absolute world to us." Elliot nodded.

"You're welcome. Good luck, you two," he said as he showed them out the door. It was closed in their faces before they knew it.

"Well," Jon said, breaking the already minute-long silence.

"That was… a lot," Martin said. Jon nodded.

"I hate to ask this, but shall we press on?" he suggested. Martin shrugged.

"I suppose we should."

And so they pressed on.

THANK YOU FOR READINGGGGGG

The song used for the title is Aged Pine by Della Mae, PLEASE check it out! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xvDO2-b2JF4

Hey! You! Yeah, you! I think you're pretty neat, and that's saying something because yesterday I saw a cat perched on somebody's shoulder like a parrot. And you know what? You're neater than a cat perched on somebody's shoulder like a parrot. Drink some water, eat if you haven't eaten in a while (or if you have!), take your meds if you need them, and remember that I think you're pretty damn cool.

#the magnus archives #fanfiction #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #timothy stoker #sasha james #fluff #angst #so apparently this fic made a lot of people really sad?#that wasn't my intent!#i mean kinda yeah it was #but like mainly i hoped it would be fluffy and sweet #well i guess it's the definition of bittersweet #season 5 spoilers

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togafukagiftexchange · 5 years ago

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pinlc-candy here with my exchange gift for @alumort! i tried to incorporate your prompts as much as i could with this. hope you enjoy!

***

"You know," said Monobear in a tone one would use to address those at a funeral, “when I trapped you all in here, I did so with higher expectations."

None of the six students glaring at Monobear replied. Not Makoto. Not Kyouko. Not Byakuya, Touko, Aoi or the other guy. They all frowned, sat around the same table in the cafeteria with plates of breakfast at various states of completion in front of them. Cutlery no longer clinked, and the smell of hot food had since waned. Monobear held its paws behind its back and as it peered up, none of them offered any sympathy. No smiles, no tilts of the head, nothing of the sort.

In fact, they gave the opposite. At one end of the spectrum, Makoto regarded Monobear with a creased brow, lips tight, nostrils flared, face all contorted, while on the other, Kyouko barely had a wrinkle on her face, but her lilac eyes were as cold as the morgue refrigerator. As for everyone else, they hovered somewhere in between those extremes of expression, or lack thereof.

Despite the silence, Monobear flourished a paw in front of itself and carried on talking to them.

"I know this isn't an island in a tropical climate,” it said. It bowed its head forward and tapped its paws together. “If it was, there would be a supermarket, a beach lodge... heck, even a music venue with a snort-worthy name. But you have to make do with what you have. I would have loved a sarcastic protagonist with a dark forgotten past or a plucky pianist. I'd even restrain my grumbles if I got a naive young girl running around with a speakerphone, even if she was wearing a short skirt that kept flashing her - "

"Get to the point," said Byakuya bluntly.

Monobear gave an exaggerated start. It almost tipped over backwards, flailing its arms, but instead of overbalancing, it uprighted itself, placed its paws against its cheeks and squirmed.

"Wah!" it went. "So curt! Alright, alright. I'll tell you."

It stopped thrashing about and eyed the other six, who all waited uneasily for it to elaborate.

"I've decided to set you some chores. You've been mooching off me long enough, and it's time you repaid me,” Monobear told them.

Aoi flinched her head back. "Repaid you?"

"But you're the one who locked us in here in the first place," Makoto pointed out.

Monobear slanted its head to one side and scratched its chin.

"Yeah, and I feed you everyday. And I give you clean water... yet I'm getting nothing back.” It shook its head. "Nope, you've gotta start earning your stay here. Starting next week, you’re gonna be doing chores. If you're not going to kill each other, you could at least help out around here. Unless you want to continue the killing game...?”

Aoi gave a little shriek. Yasuhiro winced, and Touko clutched her braids. The other three shifted. With a cackle, Monobear covered its mouth with its paws.

“I can throw a bone your way, if you want,” it offered. “I've got lots of them. Idol bones, gyaru bones, baseball player bones... and lots of different motives..."

Everyone turned to each other, exchanging glances in a silent conference. After several seconds of this, everyone fixed their eyes back on Monobear, and Makoto nodded.

"What do you want us to do?" he asked on behalf of his friends.

Monobear's red eye gleamed.

"Well, two of you have to do stock checks of the science labs and the infirmary, two of you need to treat me to a spa day, bath and massage included, and two of you need to train those chickens in the garden,” announced Monobear.

No one responded immediately. Then Kyouko lifted her hand. That simple motion drew the attention of everyone in the room.

She deadpanned, "I'm not giving him a bath."

"Me neither," Touko chimed in.

Byakuya pushed up his glasses in that supercilious manner of his. "I refuse as well."

Then, at the same time, Makoto, Aoi and Yasuhiro said, "Not me!"

They twitched and looked at each other. If the tension in the room had been any thicker, it could have been cut with a knife. Anyone peeping in would have thought one of them had murdered someone and the others were trying to figure out who did it.

“W-Well, two of you have to give that bear a bath,” said Touko.

Yashiro jabbed the air with his finger. "I want to train the chickens!”

Aoi pulled a face.

"I don't want to go to the science lab,” she said as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Or give him a bath...”

"I wouldn't mind carrying out the stock checks," said Byakuya. "I have no interest in livestock."

Aoi turned to him and raised her eyebrows.

"But chickens are so cute and fluffy!" she said, then she shrugged. "Well, it’s your loss. I don't mind training them.Teaching them tricks sounds fun!"

Just the idea of it brought a cute smile to her face. Her bright aura was in stark contrast to the gloomy cloud hovering over Touko, who scowled at her across the table.

"Well, you and Hagakure can't both tend to the chickens. Three of us already said we're not washing Monobear,” said Touko. Aoi broke out of her daydream.

"So?" asked Aoi.

Touko rolled her eyes. "If us three already said we’re not giving him a bath, that means two of you have to wash him still. It’s common sense."

Aoi only managed to open her mouth before Monobear burst out laughing. Whatever she planned to say, if anything, never came out, and everyone turned to Monobear.

"Sorry, sorry!” apologised Monobear. It wiped a nonexistent tear from its red eye. “I got carried away. You're all acting like I'm giving you a choice when I've already decided who's doing what."

Before Monobear had even arrived in the cafeteria that morning, it had already known who would be doing what. Each choice came with its own reasoning, which Monobear didn’t feel inclined to share, not even with you, the reader.

Aoi and Yasuhiro would have the honour of carrying out stock checks in various rooms in the school. Kyouko and Makoto would have the pleasure of treating Monobear to a spa day. Which, then, left a certain two individuals in the garden, with its beds of dirt, jungle-like greenery and patchy-planked chicken coop with wire fencing.

Those two individuals were Touko and Byakuya, of course.

That night, an hour before Monobear’s nighttime announcement was due to play, Touko paced her dorm room floor back and forth, back and forth, muttering, not once looking up at Kyouko and Aoi, who both perched on the end of Touko's bed. Kyouko sat with her shoulders pushed back and her arms folded over her chest, formal and stiff. Next to her, in contrast, Aoi slouched forward, elbows on her lap, cheeks propped up in her hands as she tried not to fall asleep.

Touko didn't usually allow visitors into her room, so one could deduce out how major a deal this was. She was going to be working with Byakuya. Together. With him. With. Him. Byakuya.

And Monobear could watch the whole thing play out through the surveillance cameras.

"... how many cheeses do we have in the kitchen?" asked Touko, as she battered her palm with her stubby-nailed finger.

She didn’t wait for anyone to reply. Didn’t give them the chance. Her pace didn’t falter. Back and forth, back and forth, she went.

"Byakuya-sama needs to be able to choose the cheese he wants.” Then Touko pursed her lips, wavering only in speech. “B-But is it not better to have a few cheeses that he likes, rather than have everything that’s available? Wouldn't that impress him more? Quality, not quantity, after all... It would be more thoughtful if I brought only cheeses he liked to our picnic..."

Aoi and Kyouko let Touko make a few more laps of the room.

“What about the chickens?” asked Aoi. Touko hesitated midstride.

“Huh? What do the chickens have to do with our date?” asked Touko blankly. Aoi straightened.

“You know... the chickens?” said Aoi in disbelief. She flicked her wrist. “The ones that Monobear told you to train?”

Touko picked at the corner of her lips. “Well, how hard c-can it be to train chickens?”

Written down, Touko’s response may have seemed confident, but in reality, she mumbled her words, not making eye contact as her gaze sank to the floor.

Oh, this was going to be hilarious.

Kyouko swept some hair behind her ear without a single crack of amusement on her face. “I hope your confidence is warranted, because I can’t imagine Togami-kun being pleased if you turned up seeming unprepared.”

For a few seconds, Touko didn’t move. Then she blinked once. Twice. Her slack features screwed up, warping in anger, and she came back to life - and flung herself toward the door so vigorously that she almost cast herself prostrate on the floor.

“G-Get out!” Touko hissed, gesticulating wildly. “I... I have to go to the library right now!”

As the three trooped out of the room, Monobear made a mental note to force Kyouko to give it a back massage.

For the next few days, Touko set up camp in the library, reading any book even remotely related to training animals. She did very little else, assiduous in her research like this was a final exam. Fortunately, Monobear stocked the library with books on the topic shortly after giving out the task, at the time claiming to be good friends with The Supreme Overlord of Ice who was also apparently an animal breeder. Occasionally, Touko’s classmates took pity on her and brought her something to eat, and other times, Byakuya would demand she leave the library and not return until she showered.

By the time the first day of their chores rolled along, Touko had drained the library’s resources, and after breakfast, she marched to the garden with Byakuya striding ahead of her. She fixed her eyes on him as they journeyed up the building, admiring his slender frame and the curve of his behind, bathing in his radiance until they stepped out into the garden.

Maybe Touko should have wondered what Monobear had in mind when setting such an innocuous task. Maybe she would have wondered had she not been preoccupied with the thought of spending time at Byakuya’s side even if they were training a bunch of chickens.

The ceiling and walls, painted blue, gave the illusion they had finally emerged outside after weeks barricaded in the school, but in reality, they were as caged in the building as before. However, while the sky was indeed fake, the plants spread throughout the indoor garden were real. Tufts of grass and weeds grew from the soil, and harmonious colours freckled the flowerbeds.

Largest of the plant life was a flower that towered above all else, its face rimmed with red petals. On one occasion, Monobear referred to it as a Monobear flower, claiming that handling it would infect the victim with a deadly, fast-acting poison. At its base grew speckled corpse lilies and unnaturally big venus fly traps. If one had a suicide wish and wanted to climb up the Monobear flower, they would have to wade through them first.

That is, if one could stomach such a stench. The surrounding flowers, as cute and fragrant as they were, couldn’t mask the odour of decaying flesh that one fell victim to if they ventured too close to the Monobear flower.

Neither Byakuya nor Touko wore their high school uniforms - that morning, they had woken up to find a box at the foot of their bed addressed to them. Inside wasn’t anything macabre like their parent’s skull, as funny as that would have been, but a baggy polyester one-piece outfit, right half white, left half pink. With long sleeves, pants legs, and an emblem on the chest that resembled Monobear’s head, they looked absolutely clownish.

No one said that specifically at breakfast, but their outfits invoked several smirks and snorts disguised as choking.

Monobear stretched out its arms in front of itself, positioning its paws in a way that created a rectangular frame, and within that frame stood Byakuya and Touko.

If its expression could change, its smile would have widened. Instead, the lighting on its face shifted.

“I’ve left some feed for you by the coop,” said Monobear. It motioned toward the aforementioned structure with one paw, where a cloth sack was slouched against it. They could hear the chickens clucking within the coop, even if they couldn’t see them from where they were.

Byakuya adjusted his glasses.

“What training are we supposed to give these chickens, exactly?” he asked.

“Oh, you know,” went Monobear vaguely.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t have asked.”

Monobear placed its paws over its mouth.

“Come on, use your brain, Togami-kun! Coming on command, herding them... Make them jump through flaming hoops if you can.”

Byakuya’s eyes widened for a moment, then his eyebrows lowered as his features hardened with determination.

“For some reason, they don’t seem to like me,” Monobear remarked, sounding downcast. It kicked at the floor, but it couldn’t keep up its saddened facade and burst out laughing. “Upupu... I’ll leave you two to it!”

And with that, Monobear left. To them, it seemed to disappear around the corner before vanishing into thin air. Really, though, it entered a trapdoor, one of many around the school, each leading to a cubicle that could fit a Monobear unit inside. At the same time as it stowed itself away in there, another Monobear appeared in another area of the school, coming out of a similar trapdoor, ready for its spa day.

But that was somewhere else. Not here.

Right here was the garden, thrumming with the sounds of wildlife playing over the speakers. There were insects, alive and everything, but they didn’t create enough noise by themselves to fill the garden. Byakuya approached the coop and peered through the wire meshing. Five chickens greeted his vision, fluffy white things with red features on their head, scraping the ground with their hard orange feet. His nose wrinkled as he studied them, and he didn’t turn his head as Touko sidled up to him. With one hand, she loosely hooked her fingers through the gaps in the wire, while her other hand gripped the handle of a picnic basket.

A few days prior, when she had rummaged through the storage room, she hadn’t really expected to find a basket in there, but indeed there had been one, hidden behind cans of beans. What she didn’t know was that Monobear left it there for her. After all, with a joke, one had to set up the punchline in order for there to be a punchline.

Touko glanced at the sack by the coop. It was filled with brown slithers. She read about them during her research. Mealworms. Her eyes strayed. Wooden batons sat next to the sack, with brightly coloured ribbons attached to them. Beside those, she noticed, were similar cylinders, only they had nails protruding from them instead.

She stiffened and forced herself to look at the sack again.

“That must be the feed,” she said.

Byakuya turned away from the coop to follow her gaze. Unlike Touko, he didn’t so much as quiver, strong and intense. He pushed up his glasses.

“We’re supposed to be training them, not feeding them,” he said, and he returned his attention to the chickens.

Touko licked her lips and glanced at him. For a moment, she seemed to forget what she was about to say, relaxing her body, beginning to melt into a puddle. Even the side of his face was mesmerizing. The shape of his nose. How he carried his pout. Everything about him. It took great strength to pull herself back together. She couldn’t let him down.

“It can be used to train them too,” she explained while he watched the chickens do nothing of note. “The c-chickens will see the feed and come to you like an otaku when a new figure of their fantasy girlfriend comes out, and while the chickens are eating from you, you’re meant to make a certain noise or signal. Then they will start coming to you whenever they hear the noise, expecting food, and eventually they will approach you without you having to make any signal at all.”

As she spoke, the chickens continued idling in the coop, none-the-wiser. She glimpsed them briefly before training her eyes back onto Byakuya. At no point during her explanation did he look at her, examining the chickens with his lips pressed together in thought.

That didn’t deter her though. Touko stood taller. Gripped the wire a bit harder.

“U-Using different signals, you can make them do other tricks, like flying onto your arm or walking across tightrope-like surfaces,” she added, prompting Byakuya to give a minute nod and stroke his chin.

“Ah. Positive reinforcement,” he remarked. “And that will work for everything we need to train them to do?”

That sounded almost like he didn’t know the answer.

“Mostly,” said Touko, her face surprisingly serious. The handle of her picnic basket slipped down to her elbow as she rubbed her hands together. “W-With herding them, if you aren’t able to make the signal, you can herd them using your arms or things like the sticks by the coop. You simply position yourself behind the flock, clap your hands and if they start to wander from the herd, you block their path.”

She paused, then pressed the tips of her index fingers together. A smile blossomed, bringing colour to her face.

“Dogs are handy for herding, but we don’t have one, and I’m only going to be a d-dog for you, Byakuya-sama,” she added.

Byakuya took a few seconds to process what she said.

He glowered. “Shut up.”

She jolted and slapped her hand over her mouth. His brow remained knitted as he looked over at the batons.

“Why do some of them have nails in them?” he asked.

Touko dropped her hand from her mouth, no longer grinning, and quietly said, “In case you want to use them instead of the other ones.”

Byakuya clicked his tongue, eyeing the spiked batons with scorn. She stooped her head. Hunched her shoulders. Shuddered as she inhaled.

“Pain... can certainly be a teaching tool,” she said in a low voice, and then she elevated her chin, like about to give an important speech. “W-With the right person - ”

“Stop,” he interrupted, showing his palm to her, and she did. He rested his hand on his hip and faced her. “Let’s get back to the matter at hand. Fukawa, you seem to know what to do. I will give you the honour of working under me.”

Her heart swooped. Almost stopped. Byakuya may as well have handed her the key leading out of this place. Or his underwear. She jerked her head back.

“U-Under you?” Touko spluttered. He glared, and she twitched into a salute, beaming. “G-Gladly! Roger!”

“It’s Togami,” he said. Either he didn’t notice any innuendos or chose to ignore them. He pointed at her before dragging his finger toward the feed. “Now off to work with you!”

His arms folded over his chest as he watched Touko spring into action. She put down her picnic basket, picked up the sack of mealworms and heaved it away from the coop. Once she had put some distance between herself and the coop, she reached a hand unflinchingly into the sack and lifted out a fistful of mealworms.

However, when she looked at Byakuya, she hesitated.

“Um... would you please open the hatch?” she asked, cringing as she spoke.

Byakuya cast her an annoyed look, but after a beat passed, he strode over to the hatch and unhooked the lock. Soon after he creaked the door ajar, one of the chickens poked its head out, while the others seemed content pottering about inside, plodding around in sudden movements like an animation with a low frame rate.

Touko squatted down, held her hand out, offering the mealworms, and let out a series of cheeps. The chicken in the entrance of the coop turned.

She shook her extended hand, and the chicken trotted toward her. Within seconds, the rest of the chickens emerged, and they followed the first one over to Touko. A smile tweaked her lips as she tipped the worms onto the floor in front of he. They began pecking at the ground. Byakuya craned his neck and couldn’t help from raising his eyebrows.

“Was that noise supposed to be the signal?” he asked.

“Mmhm,” she went with a bob of her head. She scooped up more mealworms and spilled them onto the ground so the chickens had more to eat.

He grimaced.

“I’m not keen on that,” he said. “It’s a ridiculous sound. I refuse to utter it.”

Touko looked up at him in shock.

“Y-You could never sound ridiculous!” she assured him.

Byakuya didn’t answer. Just narrowed his eyes. She lowered her gaze and clasped her hands together. While she was distracted by the chickens, Byakuya shuffled closer to them, keeping his body turned away from her. Soon he was standing only a few paces away from them, yet she still hadn’t noticed him move.

Seconds passed. A small pout tensed his features. He looked away pointedly and presented his hand to her.

“Give me some,” he said.

Touko snapped her head up. Her shoulders jumped, like she hadn’t noticed him draw closer, but once she got over the moment of surprise, she tilted the opening of the bag toward him. Wordlessly, Byakuya grabbed some mealworms and walked away stiffly, putting a bit of distance between them before he squatted down, holding out the mealworms.

The chickens ignored him, even when Touko pinched the opening of the sack shut. They nattered to themselves, taking in the spectrum of green surrounding them as they stepped about on the tessellating, brown pavement underfoot.

Byakuya sucked in air. His face darkened. Then, in monotone, he went, “Cheep, cheep, cheep.”

He shook his hand, and finally, one of the chickens acknowledged him. Him, the great and dignified Byakuya Togami, crouching down with some mealworms in his hand. The chicken strutted over with the others soon in tow. Once they had closed in on him, he dropped the mealworms by his feet.

Most would have found it amusing. Touko placed a hand over her heart. She found it endearing.

“Y-You’re such an expert!” she said, swooning, and she shot up to stand, to better marvel at him.

“I’m a fast learner,” he replied, unable to stop himself from grinning.

He studied the chickens for a couple of seconds before meeting her gaze. The joy on her face absorbed his smile, and he was back to looking serious again.

“You seem to know what you’re doing,” he said, and he stood up. “Have you trained animals before?”

“Not chickens, or anything this size,” she said, wringing her hands together. “I tried training my stinkbug once... b-but she didn’t want to learn, so I stopped.”

“A stink bug?” he repeated, squinting at her. She didn’t correct him, so he must have heard her correctly. “You’re joking, aren’t you? Training a stink bug? They don’t have a brain. It will be that it couldn’t learn, not that it didn’t want to.”

Her face spasmed, like he slapped her. Even her cheeks reddened like he had.

“S-Stink bugs aren’t stupid!” she blurted. It came out louder than she intended. He blinked. Hiked up his eyebrows.

“What did you say?” he asked calmly, and she tensed, but she didn’t stumble back, double over into herself, fall to her knees or anything. Her feet remained firmly rooted to the ground.

Touko trembled and her face had flashed hot. She opened her mouth, like she was about to shout something, but she quickly buried down whatever noise was brewing in her and squared her shoulders, seething instead.

Though he had seen her mad before, heard her grumble and grind her teeth, heard her cutting quips and death wishes, she never aimed this fire at him after he revealed Syo’s presence to everyone some time ago.

Byakuya stayed stony as his clear blue eyes surveyed her, sapphires embedded in a marble statue. When he raised his chin, his gaze glinted. A sliver of teeth showed as he parted his lips. Touko found her voice.

“T-Their brains don’t play as important a role as a human’s brain, but they’re still intelligent creatures,” she explained in a low, level tone, and her elbows tucked into her sides, hands kneading together below her chin. She didn’t quite meet his gaze, her eyes flickering between his mouth and the coop. “I f-found Kameko on my backpack when I came back one day from elementary school. Kameko followed me home, and up until I woke up here, she remained by my side. She understands me. She’s unlike any other...”

Well, either Kameko followed Touko home or someone put Kameko on Touko for a prank. One of the two. Byakuya’s lips curled, but not into a smile.

“Seeing as many insects can survive a few days without their head, I agree their brains aren’t that important,” he said. He nudged his glasses into place. “These are chickens, however. Not insects... but there is a case of a chicken surviving without most of its head for a year and a half. I believe it choked.”

Only she could see the disturbing image that he had conjured of Kameko. Touko shoved past it. Kameko was okay. Kameko had to be. Her lips twisted, with her brow crumpling too. She let go of her hands and seized her onesie’s trouser legs, taking two handfuls of fabric into her palms, and breathed.

Byakuya inclined his head to one side, regarding Touko with interest. “After we escape this place, I may have to see this stink bug for myself.”

When she made eye contact with him, her heart leapt. Her breath caught. The image of Kameko decapitated flooded out of her mind as his face took over.

Even though he wasn’t touching her, it was like his hands were skimming across her body. Touko could feel the air move around herself, causing her to shiver. This time, it wasn’t because he had insulted stink bugs. It wasn’t anger, frustration, offence or anything like that. She basked in his glow.

“Chickens are quite easy to train,” she said to him, beginning to perk up. Touko couldn’t stay mad at him. In fact, she appreciated his honesty. “I don’t think it will take too long to teach them to come on command.”

“And how do you know this if you’ve never trained them before?”

“I read some books in the library,” she said. “I spent hours researching. D-Didn’t you?”

There was no accusation in her tone, no hard glint in her pale eyes, just an innocent look and an innocent voice, yet he shifted with a defensive expression on his face.

“... I didn’t think I would have to,” he admitted. He slapped on bravado, placing his hands on his hips. “And it turns out I was right. After all, you are doing a fine job.”

Touko gasped, blushing, blinking a lot. “T-Thank you!”

“Yes, everything is going smoothly,” he mused, bringing up a hand to cup his chin. His eyes clouded with thought. “After they’ve learned to come on command, shall we get to training them to jump through a flaming hoop?”

She didn’t understand what he said for a second. Then she did.

“W-What?” she said, raising her arm in front of herself.

Byakuya continued cradling his chin thoughtfully.

“There must be something we can use as a hoop lying about. Perhaps there is one in the gymnasium?” he pondered aloud, all the while Touko was gawking at him. When his arm sprung forward to point a finger at her, she yelped in surprise, like he shot her. “Hey, Fukawa...! Fetch me a hoop. You have five minutes.”

Touko mumbled, “I don’t think Monobear was serious...”

“Get it for me!” he demanded a little louder. She straightened sharply.

“Right away!” she said, and she sped off with speed that her frail frame gave no indication of possessing.

Even if Monobear hadn’t meant for them to actually teach that, Touko couldn’t pass an opportunity to spend more time with Byakuya. As he said, the gymnasium had some hoops in its closet, and she returned with one within four minutes.

“Plastic,” he remarked, shuffling it around in both hands. His brow furrowed. “We won’t be able to set this alight. It will melt.”

“We can still use it for practice,” she pointed out. He looked at her and she elaborated, keeping her hands in front of herself. “We reward the chickens for interacting with the hoop, then we train them to go through it when they’re on ground level. If we do that while making a certain noise, we can train the chicken to go through the hoop whatever level the hoop is on... with or without snacks... and with or without the signal...”

The gears in Byakuya’s head spun. He nodded.

“Yes,” said Byakuya slowly. “We can do that easily. Alright, let’s begin.”

Byakuya took one step before Touko darted in front of him.

“B-But we should have a break first!” She waved her hands and added quickly, “W-Why don’t we have the picnic I prepared?”

“Picnic?” he repeated. He turned his head and laid his eyes on the basket by the coop. “Ah, so that’s what is in that thing you brought.”

As opposed to what, she didn’t know.

“Have you never been on a picnic?” she asked him. Byakuya glared.

“Of course not,” he retorted. “Those only happen in novels. Have you ever been on one?”

Now that was an accusatory tone. Touko cringed.

“N-Not with another person,” she told him, fidgeting. She hurried over to the basket and scampered back with it. “But that’s alright! I m-made it specially for you.”

He eyed it warily. “I don’t want to eat anything you’ve touched. Your germs will be in it.”

“No, they won’t be!” she insisted, as romantic as she might have found that, and she set down the basket, straightening up quickly. “I washed my hands before, and I even took a shower. See?”

Touko thrust her hands at him, showing her palms a bit too close to his face for his liking. Byakuya receded an inch and hesitated, but rather than command her to distance herself, he pushed her arm down gently. Though he only touched one, both fell at the same time. Her fingers curled into her hands and she held her breath.

His face filled her vision. Long lashes, pursed lips and all. Then he bent down, gradually. Leaned toward her. Touko nearly choked on her breath. She swallowed and tilted her head back, fluttering her lashes as she shut her eyes.

The world faded away around them. All she could see was the pink aura radiating from her body that surrounded them, sparkling as it engulfed them in its cloud. Only they existed. Only they mattered.

This was really happening. Byakuya was getting closer. And closer.

He sniffed her loudly.

“So you have bathed,” he remarked. She opened her eyes.

Her vision came into focus and she found him right in front of her. When she opened her mouth, a strangled whine escaped. Byakuya moved back, but his face conveyed no surprise or signs of being startled at the weird noise.

“I suppose we should replenish our energy,” he said, turning away.

Touko took a few moments to return to reality. The pink aura around them had dissipated, plonking them back in the garden where chickens clucked nearby and she caught a whiff of fertiliser mixed in with the floral blend. Not exactly romantic.

“Well, what did you make?” he said impatiently.

“Ah! Right! Sorry!” She flipped the basket lid open and extracted the blanket. Once she laid it out, she unpacked the rest of the picnic.

Initially, Byakuya remained standing up, but when she had got most of it out, he knelt down on the edge of the basket, his eyes trained on something.

“Is that winnimere cheese?” he asked, pointing at a pie-shaped block of cheese. A ring of brown crust covered the cylinder’s curving side and an off-white surface rested on top, with grooves in it.

“Yes!” Touko said as she was about to take out a plastic tub containing a salad, consisting of different greens with shreds of red and orange. Her eyes sought his pair. “Do you like it?”

Byakuya picked up a knife. Every second that he didn’t answer dragged on. “It’s no Caciocavallo Podolico, but it will do.”

He cut a slice, revealing the yellower insides of the cheese to be creamier than let on. While he spread it over a cracker, one of the chickens approached their blanket, bobbing its head. Touko gritted her teeth.

“N-No, Byakuya Junior, this isn’t for you!” she hissed, shooing at it with both hands. It stopped where it was and looked around, like it didn’t know where the voice had come from.

Byakuya stared at Touko.

“Did you just say Byakuya Junior?” he asked. She turned her eyes to him and wiggled.

“Y-Yes... I named him myself,” she said, simpering. “Do you like it?”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“A chicken!” Byakuya scoffed. “How would you like it if I named one ‘Touko Junior’?”

“T-T-!” Touko melted. Not physically, obviously, but her body went rather limp.

Byakuya scowled and presented her with a napkin so she could wipe the drool beading on her lips, which after a short delay, when she didn’t respond, he fitted into her hand instead.

He clicked his tongue. “Look at you. You’re far too scrawny... Don’t you know how to eat? Or do I have to feed you myself?”

At that moment, her brain short-circuited, and after a spark of life pulsed on her face, she tried to speak only for garbled nonsense to come out.

Ever since she had been young, even when she had been pressured by society to present and identify as a boy, she had imagined a scene like this. A picnic lunch with her true love. And now it was happening. Byakuya huffed, his features tinged with annoyance.

“I’m only doing this so we can get back to work sooner,” he said as he brought the cracker to her lips. “And... because you did do a good job with the chickens, so I suppose I owe you. But, tell anyone about this and I will...”

Byakuya trailed off. His lips drew together petulantly and he tried feeding her. Fortunately, though rendered incapable of speech, her mouth at least functioned enough to eat, even if she wheezed a bit and he sometimes had to massage her cheeks to help her chew. She didn’t take her eyes off him as she ate, much to his displeasure.

“Close your eyes,” he said. “You’re looking at me in a funny way.”

“S-Sorry!” she squeaked, and she obliged. She couldn’t see him anymore, but now as she felt the food push against her lips, she could imagine the food being something else. Like his lips...

“Actually, keep them open,” he said, for she had been betrayed by her face. “And don’t say anything. I want some peace and quiet for the time being.”

They ate the rest of the picnic in mostly silence. Neither talked. It could almost be called a date. An awkward one, but one all-the-same, and afterwards, Byakuya stood up and clapped his hands.

“It’s time to resume our training,” he said. When Touko didn’t reply, he flushed redder and said louder, “Today, Fukawa.”

The sound of her name brought her out of her trance and she rose, pressing a hand gently against her cheek.

“Y-Yes, Byakuya-sama,” she said with a happy sigh.

While the pair trained the chickens to jump through a non-burning hoop, Aoi and Yasuhiro fumbled with boxes of toxic chemicals, and elsewhere in the school, Makoto and Kyouko fanned Monobear as it lay motionless on a sunbed, with cucumbers over its eyes.

As they pampered Monobear, it did not stir, and this was because Monobear’s mind was somewhere else entirely. Literally.

Hidden in the school, in a small control room, was a cockpit like something out of a science fiction movie, full of monitors and buttons all flashing, and the blue-green tinted room came fitted with a throne. Normally, when Monobear was active, someone would be sitting there. That person would be pressing buttons. Cackling into a microphone. Tugging on levers. However, right now, no one occupied the room.

No one was stowed away in there, but someone did stand in the adjoining room - the data-processing room, where an entire wall housed monitors showing different pockets of the school. A lone figure was in the centre of the room, within its blinking, glowing walls.

One of the many monitors on the wall broadcasted the garden, where Touko and Byakuya coaxed chickens through a hoop. They were a curious couple. Very curious. During the killing game, Touko had latched onto Byakuya. Sure, the guy was intelligent and good-looking, if someone was into that sort of thing, but he also had a repugnant personality, though admittedly he had been easing up lately. It was a good thing that Mukuro Ikusaba had died because she had bet Byakuya would still be alive at this point.

Ah well, her winnings could go to her twin instead.

The figure watched Touko and Byakuya. After Byakuya revealed Touko’s secret to everyone, if someone thought Touko would go off him, that he would have become like one of the many people in her life who betrayed her, their assumption would have been understandable. It would be wrong, but it would be understandable.

Instead, Touko’s feelings intensified.

Lots of reasons could be used to explain Touko’s feelings for Byakuya. Masochism, because he had a sharp tongue and little restraint and some people got off on that. Relief and gratitude, because now she didn’t have to hide that part of herself from everyone. Greed, because he was a rich, powerful, handsome man.

Of course, the figure knew better than that.

A small hum slipped out of the figure’s raspberry pink lips.

Ah, and it wasn’t just Touko’s feelings. Byakuya’s too.

Only someone who had known him for two years, or someone whose Super High School Level involved a prowess in analysing, would know the scope of it all. Or someone with both. On the surface, there were his cruel remarks, his snarls and leers at others, but those had lessened after the last trial humbled him. Made him question his outlook on life.

Even before that point, anyone else could easily have missed how Byakuya always seemed to be assured of Touko’s safety before he claimed to desire her demise, or how he often let her be near him for a while before sending her away. When he wanted her gone, he most certainly made it known every time, like with everyone else, so that was interesting. Or when he accompanied her to the incinerator after she stood up to him when he wanted her to burn her birthday present for him, and even then, in the end, he had kept it.

Even if he hadn’t, the walk would have been a treat enough for her. A reward. A reward for standing up to him.

Then there were other things, things only people with access to the footage from the surveillance cameras would know, like their conversation when she revealed her alter, or when they met in secret after the second trial, or what happened the night before Byakuya and Syo turned up to breakfast together and he defensively told them they weren’t together.

After that, Touko started calling him ‘Byakuya-sama’.

On top of that, there were things that only the figure knew. Things not even Byakuya and Touko knew, despite it involving them. Things like interactions in the library that gradually grew longer. Lessons where he sat in front of her and she daydreamed, drilling holes into the back of his head. Things like the first time she revealed Syo’s existence, and Byakuya’s promise that lasted until some time after they became locked in the school, when he made the same promise again. Or like how he told her about the conglomerate, how she told him about what led her to write, or about books or their classmates or the world around them and more. Much more.

Then there were the small smiles. Lingering glances. Accidental hand brushes. Skipped heartbeats. And then a meeting in Touko’s dorm room, after the Togami Conglomerate fell, after they chose to barricade themselves in here, where they held hands and pressed close and breathed as one.

All forgotten. Wiped away.

Of all the people for Touko to choose, it was Byakuya, someone who before they lost their memories, she had chosen. And she had chosen him again.

Along with Kyouko’s nosing around the school, perhaps it was time to move the game forward.

For the next week, the figure continued with their observations. It was nice having Kyouko forced to stay put rather than have her flit in and out of out-of-bounds areas lacking cameras. It was funny seeing Yasuhiro and Aoi struggle and grow frustrated with the stock check. And it was interesting watching Touko and Byakuya train the chickens.

Interesting, but also useful.

Every night, the lights in the garden switched off to make it appear like it was night time. And so, one night, it was dark when the door to the coop opened. A quiet set of cheeps woke up one of the chickens. It poked its head out curiously.

A distance away, a figure in a mask cooed at it, holding out mealworms.

As the chicken approached, it didn’t see the knife the figure held behind their back.

#togafuka #touko fukawa #byakuya togami #danganronpa #2019 #zenonaa #togafukagiftexchange

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summahsunlight · 5 years ago

Text

This Way Became My Journey, CH. 6

Word Count: 3901

Pairings: Janeway/Chakotay, Paris/OFC

Characters: Kathryn Janeway, Chakotay, Tom Paris, Sarah Barrett (OC), Harry Kim, B’Elanna Torres, Kes, Neelix, the Doctor

Captain's log, stardate 48315.6. We've traced the energy pulses from the array to the fifth planet of the neighboring system and believe they may have been used in some fashion to transport Kim and Torres to the planet's surface.

Kathryn Janeway looked out the windows in her quarters at the massive space array that Voyager was orbiting. Ava was playing near by, refusing to go to sleep. Kathryn had spent the past three hours trying to get Ava down for the night but to no avail. The child just plain out refused. Pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and pointer finger, Kathryn closed her eyes trying to concentrate.

She was finding it difficult. She had a headache and the endless questions were only making it worse. The door chimed and she let out a soft sigh before calling, "Come in."

Kathryn turned about to see Tuvok enter. The Vulcan was carrying a PADD in his hands and reading it over. "Captain," he said, "I've observed something peculiar about the pulses; they're getting faster."

She took the PADD in her hand, letting the one she was holding in her other to drop to her side. "Faster," she said, disgusted, looking away from her trusted friend. She knew that her tone was probably hostile and he did not deserve it, but she was exhausted. They were no closer to finding Kim and Torres and a way home, and Ava's refusal to go to sleep was not helping matters any. What was it her mother had said, mixing a Starfleet career and motherhood was like mixing oil and water; it just couldn't be done. Kathryn, in her stubbornness, had been determined that she could. Now, that stubbornness was paying its toll.

"I can offer no explanation as to why they are increasing," Tuvok said. She had not even realized he was still talking.

With a sigh, she turned towards her desk. "That's only one of the mysteries we're dealing with, Mister Tuvok. Take a look." She turned the personal computer around so he could see the display. It was a graphic of the fifth planet that Voyager had been scanning. "It's virtually a desert. Not one ocean, not one river. It has all the characteristics of an M class planet, with one exception, there are no nucelogenic particles in the atmosphere."

"That would indicate that the planet cannot produce rain," Tuvok stated.

Kathryn nodded her head and moved away from him. "I've studied hundreds of M Class planets; I've never seen one without nucelogenics. There must have been some extraordinary environmental disaster," she sighed, stopping to look out the window. She sat down on the sofa, "As soon as repairs are complete, we'll set a course for the fifth planet."

Kathryn leaned back and placing her chin in the palm of her hand, looked out the window at the unmapped stars. Ava whimpered suddenly and she turned her attention to the baby. She was lying on her back, looking up at the ceiling, but was starting to lose the battle with sleep. Tuvok also looked at the child and saw the strain not only in the baby's tired little face, but in the Captain's as well.

"Captain," he said, stepping towards the sofa. "You require sleep; as does young Ava."

She didn't seem to hear him. "Kim's mother called me before we left; delightful woman, her only son. He'd left his clarinet behind; she wanted to know if she had enough time to send it. I had to tell her no," Kathryn said sadly, looking up at Tuvok. "Did you know he played the clarinet in the Julliard Youth Symphony?"

"I did not get the chance to meet Mister Kim," Tuvok replied.

"I barely knew him," Kathryn said, softly. "I never seem to get the chance to know any of them." She leaned forward thoughtfully. "I have to take more time to do that." The baby whimpered again and caught her mother's attention. "It's a fine crew and I've gotta get them home."

Tuvok placed his hands behind his back. "The crew, and your children, will not benefit from the leadership of an exhausted captain and mother."

Kathryn looked up at him, a soft smile formed on her worn face. "Your right as usual," she leaned back, letting the cushions massage her aching back. "I've missed your council."

"I am gratified that you would come after me so I could offer it to you once again," Tuvok replied.

She smiled. "I spoke to your family before I left."

He took a deep breath. "Are they well?"

Kathryn titled her head, slightly. "They're worried about you."

"That would not be an accurate perception, Captain. Vulcans do not worry."

"They… miss you."

"As I do them."

Kathryn stood, moving towards him. "I'll get you back to them. That's a promise, Tuvok."

For a moment the two friends looked each other in the eye before Tuvok nodded his had in gratitude and turned to leave the room. Kathryn watched him go before she went to pick Ava up and hold her close, looking out the window at the stars. "You hear that my little bird," she whispered in her baby's ear. "I'm going to get you home."

"You look like you could use some of this," a voice said above her.

Sarah Barrett glanced up from the latest repair report to see Tom Paris standing by her table in the mess hall, with a pot of coffee in his hands. The room was practically empty and the lights had been dimmed for the nighttime hours. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she looked about the now abandoned room. She had been here so long she realized that she had no idea what time it was. Offering him a small, tired smile, she gestured for him to sit down.

Tom took a seat opposite her and poured her a cup. "I heard you had a few extra duties shoved on your shoulders. But I didn't think you'd be up this late however pouring over…what exactly are you pouring over anyways?"

"Repair reports," she replied, taking the mug from him. "Captain Janeway has me coordinating the repair teams. Our senior staff, shall we say is a little depleted right now."

"It might stay that way if we don't find a way home," Tom quipped, taking a sip of his own coffee.

"I'm trying not to think about that," Sarah said in response. "I don't think I can take many more late nights like this. Speaking of late nights by the way, why are you up so late?"

He shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

"Thinking about Harry?" she asked, setting the PADD aside.

"Yeah, I suppose I am," Tom replied, casting his eyes downward.

It was hard for him to open up to anybody, let alone a girl that he had just met a few days before. But he had to get it off his chest if he ever hoped of getting a wink of sleep that night. Truth be told, he had purposely tracked her down, she seemed like the most logical choice of someone to talk to, she was after all the ship's counselor, but she had also been the only one, besides Janeway and Harry, to give him the time of day since he had boarded this ship. "He's pretty much the only one on this ship that's been civil to me, friendly even, with the exception of you and Captain Janeway of course. I guess I've been thinking about how lonely this whole mission could be if we don't find a way home and rescue Harry."

Her sapphire eyes softened. "Tom, if Captain Janeway's service record is any indication of how she really is, then she will do everything in her power to find Harry and bring him back to Voyager. Besides, you're not alone, a lot of people on this ship I'm sure will be willing to give you a second chance. You just have to give them reason to do so."

He mulled over her words, and then grinned. "You're good. However, you're being a bit pessimistic. Don't you believe we're going to get home? Why would people on this ship even have the time to give me a second chance, especially since I'll be back in New Zealand when we return to Starfleet?"

Sarah frowned. "It's not pessimism, it's realism."

"Oh is that what they call it these days?"

"Well what do you want me to say?" she snapped, hotly. "We'll find Harry and then we'll all sail home triumphantly? The truth is, Paris, we're seventy thousand light years from home, with an entity that seems quite content to let us rot out here before sending us back where we came from and we're relying for help on people that can't be trusted entirely because of their views on the Federation."

"Chakotay," he huffed.

Sarah quirked an eyebrow. "He had an...interesting reaction to you today. What's your history with him?"

"There isn't any."

"Don't lie to me, no one would have reacted like that if you didn't have history."

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "I was itching for fight after being ushered out of Starfleet. I was angry at them, angry at myself for what had happened. I found Chakotay and the Maquis. They were desperate for fighters so they took me. Chakotay could see right through me, he knew what I was in for and he knew why. He never trusted me and he considered me more trouble than I was worth. He knew that I wasn't in it for their mighty cause and he figured that someday I'd turn them in, in exchange for something so I could please my parents. The truth is he was right about me. I am more trouble than I'm worth and I'm sorry that Captain Janeway could be stuck with me out here."

"You shouldn't say stuff like that, you don't know what's going to happen," she said, tensely.

Tom studied the tired expression on her face. "You're worried about being stuck out here aren't you?"

"Aren't you?"

"Me, nah," he replied. "I don't have a life back home worth returning too. It doesn't matter to me either way."

In reality, neither did she. Both her parents were dead and she had had a falling out with her older brother when he had found out she was using drugs. She had not spoken to him for at least two years. What scared her was being stuck out here with people who did have a life back home to return to. She wasn't sure if she was the right person to get them through it all.

Tom was standing now. "If it's any consolation, Counselor, if we do get stuck out here, I think we've got the best counselor on board to get us through it."

Their eyes met briefly before he turned and left the room. Sarah was once again left alone in the dim light with her PADDs, but now with a little bit more confidence and a steaming pot of coffee.

Captain's log, supplemental. The Maquis ship and Voyager have encountered a debris field where sensors have detected a small vessel. One humanoid life-form is on board.

"Hail them," Janeway told Tuvok as she stepped onto the bridge from her ready room. After finally getting her baby down for the night she had gotten a good night's sleep and felt refreshed and ready for whatever the day had to bring her. Stopping to stand behind helm, she turned to the view screen to see a net of some kind covering the alien's own view screen.

Someone was moving about in the background trying to find it.

The net was tossed out of the way and a male humanoid appeared, with spotted skin and orange hair. "Who ever you are, I found this waste heap first!" he yelled at her in a hostile tone. Janeway looked back at Sarah Barrett, seated in her chair, the two made eye contact for a moment before the Captain looked back at their new 'friend.'

"We're not interested in your debris," she told him, waving her hand about to emphasize what she was saying. "Mister?"

He's face immediately softened. "Neelix. And since you're not interested in my debris, well then, I'm delighted to know you."

Sarah got up from her chair and went to whisper in Kathryn's ear. "He's probably harmless Captain, makes his living by salvaging parts in debris heaps like this one. My guess is that this is how most beings get by in this region of space, that would account for his hostile reaction at seeing us at first."

Confident in her counselor's assessment of their new friend, she smiled. "Captain Kathryn Janeway, of the Federation Starship Voyager," she introduced her self to Neelix.

"That's a very impressive title. I have no idea what it all means," Neelix said. "But it sounds very impressive."

"Tell me Mister Neelix, do you know this part of space well?" Janeway asked him.

"I am famous for knowing it well," Neelix answered, proudly. "How may I be of service?"

"Do you know anything about the array that is sending energy pulses to the fifth planet?" Janeway inquired, pacing the command station back and forth, not breaking her eye contact with Neelix.

"I know enough to stay as far away from it as possible," Neelix replied. A look of understanding suddenly dawned on his face. "Let me guess, you were whisked away from somewhere else in the galaxy and brought here against your will?"

"Sounds like you've heard this story before."

"Sadly yes, thousands of times, well hundreds of times, maybe fifty times," Neelix said, which caused a small smile to form on Janeway's face. "The Caretaker has been bringing ships here for months now."

Janeway's eyes lit up with curiosity. "The Caretaker?"

"That's what the Ocampa call him. They live on the fifth planet," Neelix answered. "Did he kidnap some of your crew?"

Janeway leaned against the rail at conn. "As a matter of fact, he did."

"It's not the first time."

"Do you know where he might have taken them?" Janeway asked hopefully.

"Just that they are brought to the Ocampa, nothing more," Neelix said.

"We'd appreciate any help that you could give us in finding these…Ocampa," Janeway told him.

Neelix looked about his pile of junk for a moment before answering her. "I really wish I could help, I really do, but as you can see there is so much debris for me to go through. You'd be surprised the things of value some people throw out."

"Of course we'd want to compensate you for your trouble," Janeway offered him.

"There's really very little that you could offer me," Neelix replied, diverting his eyes, "unless of course you had…water."

Janeway looked down at the floor for a moment. If this was only going to cost them water, something they could easily replicate, then she was the one coming up smelling like roses in this deal. She glanced back at Neelix. "If you help us find our missing crew members you can have all the water you want."

"That sounds like a very reasonable arrangement."

She smiled. "Good. We'll beam you over and tow your ship into our shuttle bay." As she looked over her shoulder at Tuvok she was unaware of the distressed look that came over Neelix's face. "Mister Tuvok, Miss Barrett, go to Transporter Room Two and meet our guest." Janeway turned back towards Neelix as her officers left the Bridge.

"Beam?" Neelix questioned.

It had never occurred to her that these people had no idea what a transporter was. "We have technology that allows us to take you instantly from your ship to ours. It's quite harmless. May we?"

Neelix put his arms up in the air and a few seconds later the he materialized in Transporter Room Two, where Tuvok and Barrett were waiting to greet him. He looked positively relieved to be alive and in one piece. "Astonishing!" he exclaimed, running his hands over his furry coat. "You Federation are obviously an advanced culture."

"The Federation is made up of many cultures, I am Vulcan," Tuvok said, then gesturing towards Sarah, "Miss Barrett is human."

"Neelix!" The alien said, as he bounded off the transporter pad and threw his arms around Tuvok. "Good to meet you!"

Barrett had to repress a giggle at seeing the obvious discomfort this put Tuvok in. But as Neelix gathered her up into his arms, she soon found the reason for the discomfort. Mister Neelix apparently did not know what a bath was.

He let go of her and looked around the room. "Interesting. What…what does this all do?"

Tuvok stepped closer to him, not comfortable with the alien freely roaming around the room, brushing his fingers over various bulkheads and consoles. "I assure you everything in this room has a specific function. It would take several hours to explain it all."

"Perhaps another time," Barrett said, watching in mild amusement. "Shall we take you to your quarters?" She gestured for Neelix to follow her, Tuvok behind him.

"Perhaps you would care for a bath," the Vulcan stated.

Neelix looked at him perplexed. "A what?"

As the trio made their way through the corridors, Neelix stopping to look at everything, touching things that made Tuvok visibly flinch on occasion, Sarah knew that her personnel log was going to be interesting tonight.

Harry felt like he had been sitting on his biobed in the sterile alien room for hours. The Klingon woman was still sedated and unconscious on her own biobed and the only company Harry really had was the sound of the energy pulses. He was beginning to wonder if their alien 'hosts' were ever going to come back.

The Klingon woman suddenly jerked up and turned to face him. He put a hand up. "It's okay," he told her. " It's okay."

She looked nervous. "Who are you?"

"Name is Kim, Harry Kim. I'm an ensign on the Starship Voyager," he replied. "I was kidnapped from the array just like you were. I don't know where we are."

"What was Starfleet doing at that array?" she asked, angrily.

"Looking for you actually; one minute we were in the Badlands, the next—,"

"You mean you were trying to capture us!" the Klingon interrupted.

"Yeah, consider yourself captured," Harry answered sarcastically. He ran his hands over his white medical robe. "I know I have a phaser in here somewhere."

She moved closer to him. "I don't find this at all amusing, Starfleet." She moved towards the door, trying to look for a way to open it. She heard the Starfleet officer tell her that it was no use that it was locked. She didn't care, she had to get out, so she tried hitting it.

Harry jumped off the biobed and went to pull her away from the door. "Hey, what is that going to accomplish!"

"What are they doing to us!" she screamed holding up her wrists to show him the sores on her body. "What are these things growing on us?"

"Do you want them to sedate you again?"

"You're right Starfleet," she said, conceding to him. "It's the Klingon half of me, it's just that it's hard to control it sometimes."

"What's your name Maquis?"

"B'Elanna," she answered, "B'Elanna Torres."

The door to their room opened and one of the alien doctors was standing there holding some clothing. Harry held onto B'Elanna's arm firmly so she wouldn't try to go and attack the doctor. "I hope you're feeling better," the alien said. "I know this must be frightening for both of you. I've brought some clothes if you care to change." He held the arm with the clothing draped over it up so they could see them better.

"Why are you holding us here?" B'Elanna asked.

"You are not prisoners. In fact we consider you honored guests." He walked into the room closer to the two. "The Caretaker has sent you to us. As long as you're not violent you're free to leave your quarters."

"What's wrong with us?" Harry asked, holding up his hand. "What are these things?"

The doctor looked at him sadly. "We really don't know," he paused briefly, and then said, "You must be hungry, would you care to join me on the courtyard for a meal?"

B'Elanna and Harry looked at each other before making the decision that it was time to get out of this sterile room.

The doctor brought them up to the courtyard, directing them to the food dispensers. It was bright and airy, with many of the aliens out and about. Harry went to lean on a rail and looked out at the city. He was amazed to find that they were underground, with all the light around, that he assumed was sunlight, it was hard to believe.

"We're underground," he stated, looking about.

"Our society is subterranean, we've lived here for over five hundred generations," the doctor informed them as a group started to form around them.

B'Elanna looked upward. "But before that, you lived on the surface?"

"Yes, until the warming began."

"The warming?"

"When our surface turned into a desert and the Caretaker came to protect us," the doctor told him, as the group of curious aliens began to close in around them. Harry and B'Elanna were suddenly aware that they were being watched. "Our ancient journals tell us that he opened a deep chasm in the ground and led our ancestors to this place. Since then he has provided for all our needs." He suddenly noticed the group around them as well and the troubled looks on Harry and B'Elanna's faces. "Please forgive them; they know you have come from the Caretaker. None of us have ever seen him." He gestured for them to follow.

Harry and B'Elanna pushed their way through the group of on lookers and followed the doctor. They stopped at something that was similar to a replicator. The doctor proceeded to provide them with a bowl of food that neither B'Elanna nor Harry was sure about eating, but they took the bowls just to be polite.

They moved through the seating area which was facing three large view screens, each displaying a different scene of nature. "Is this how the Caretaker communicates with you?" Harry asked, eyeing the view screens.

"He never communicates with us directly," the doctor answered. "We try to interpret his wishes as best we can."

"I'm curious to know how you've interpreted the Caretaker's reasons for sending us here," Harry replied.

"We believe he separated you from your species for their protection."

"Their protection?" B'Elanna snapped.

"From your illness," he replied. The doctor gestured for the two to sit down with him. B'Elanna and Harry slowly took a seat. "Perhaps he's trying to prevent a plague."

"We weren't sick until we met your Caretaker," B'Elanna said.

"From time to time he asks us to care for people with this disease. It's the least we can do."

"There have been others?" B'Elanna questioned. "Like us?"

"Yes," was the only thing the doctor said in reply to her.

B'Elanna felt her nerves on edge as she asked, "Where are they?"

The doctor sighed, heavily. "You're condition is serious. We don't know exactly how to treat it. I'm afraid that the others did not recover."

#star trek voyager fanfiction #kathryn janeway #chakotay #tom paris #sarah barrett (oc)#harry kim #b’elanna torres #kes #neelix #the doctor (emh)#janeway x chakotay #paris x ofc

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corsairboon · 5 years ago

Text

Blindspot

Corsa’ir woke up to the feeling of Katalin slapping him. She was speaking softly, plaintively. What was she saying? They were drugged…shot with tranq darts. Someone had been there at their home, watching them. Someone had been here, and… they did something?

Something went off in his head as he was slapped awake, something new and unfamiliar.

-CovEr YOur lEFt eYe--dO nOT ShOW aNYonE yoUR LEfT EYe--

Boon covered his eyes, groaning as he stirred awake. “W-what happened…?”

-aCt Like eVERytHIng iS nORmAL--nOTHiNG cAn beTRAy yOUr nEW pURpose-

Boon acted like everything was normal. He asked questions to Katalin of what happened, sitting his eyepatch over his left normally empty socket. Someone had been in their home, someone that Katalin had chased off. Boon sat and listened, collecting himself from a drug induced stupor. His mind raced as Katalin explained everything to him, but outwardly seemed to act like everything was just normal.

The night had gone on afterward, and Katalin had laid down to rest as the adrenaline of the intruder faded, passing off the strange interruption as a bizarre and unprofessional dump of free information for her and Boon to process. In truth, it was all a distraction. Boon stayed awake after Katalin, staring into their dresser mirror; more importantly, staring at his left eye.

It glowed ominously red, a white dot in the center where an iris would be. When Boon blinked, the glowing red machina eye blinked. It disturbed him, this new fake eye that he’d been saddled with. He reached up to it, fingers digging into his left socket to pull it out and finding pain. Pain overwhelming. Corsa’ir silently leaned over his dresser, gripping his stomach and feeling a wave of nausea and headache eat at him.

-yOu dO nOT gET tO ReMOve tHE mORaL CoMPaSS aUgMENtaTioN tEsT dEvICE--nO oNe mAY kNOw aBoUT tHE tESt deVICe--CoVer yOUr LefT Eye--dO nOT ShOW anYONe yOUr LEfT eYE-

Boon groaned. Great, he thought. Corsa’ir turned toward the bed and Katalin, reaching an arm up. “Katalin I--” he began to whisper out.

-yOu dO nOT gET tO ReMOve tHE mORaL CoMPaSS aUgMENtaTioN tEsT dEvICE--nO oNe mAY kNOw aBoUT tHE tESt deVICe--CoVer yOUr LefT Eye--dO nOT ShOW anYONe yOUr LEfT eYE-

Boon fell silent even before he spoke, his voice growing weak and parched for words. Lucky for the miqo’te, he was smart when it came to people trying to control him without it being outwardly noticable. Whatever this left eye was, it was controlling his ability to tell other people about it. Whatever this left eye was, it was speaking directly into his mind and somehow reacting to his thoughts even as they formed. What else could it do? Boon resolved to find out.

The next day.

While Katalin was at market during the day, Boon realized while sitting at home that he caught himself pondering over the value of grievously torturing people to find out where the eye came from. The more the day dragged on, the keeper realized he was indeed lacking in a sense of moral right and wrong. Not even his normal tepid but usually beneficial to others perspective, but absolutely neutral expression toward it. Therefore, Boon needed to understand just how far this new and immediate moral decay affected him. It was a matter not of how it would affect things, but of pure benefit to him, as thats all that mattered to him now.

While Katalin was still at the market during the day, Corsa’ir murdered 6 children who tricked him a few sennight earlier with a bag of wooden gil. He didn’t just kill them, he murdered them in cold and vicious matter for no other reason than he needed to test the limits of this augmentation. All six were tied to wooden chairs and those chairs kicked off a seldom visited pier. Boon watched all 6 children drown, kick and buck and scream as they drown. He felt nothing as the last breaths left them. Interesting.

Another thing Corsa’ir had found was that when he went into the company estate, the stately ‘House of Mystery’ as it was called, was that the eye implant continued to work… that would be annoying to get around. It also meant there was no outgoing signal from it though he reasoned, meaning they weren’t listening in on him at all.

The next day.

Boon had to resolve a plan after reflecting. So far, he was under a few specific orders. One was to act like everything was normal. He couldn’t defy that, but he also knew it would be beneficial for him to defy that. Another was that he had to cover his left eye. Not a problem as he always wore an eyepatch. In the interim, Corsa’ir found out he couldn’t allow a full body scan of himself. He also couldn’t communicate that anything was wrong. These were simple orders, but he’d have to think hard about how to circumvent them. For now? Boon had a meeting to go to. His eye had told him to. “So 52,” She said to him, and Boon just knew. He was a number now, and that number was 52. She was a miqo’te in rather plain clothes, a keeper like himself with a gray and ashy complexion. Bubbly in a pink jumper with a sunflower hat, her pigtails flitting and curling down her back. “Tell me, how is the implant working?”

Boon replied. “It's going well,” It was, he reckoned. “So far no one has noticed it's implanted nor have they questioned anything. It’s like I’m perfectly blending.” Because he was. Boon shrugged then, taking a bite of a reuben sandwich he’d ordered for himself for the meeting. “Gotta say, this is pretty amazing technology. I tried to pry it out but like, nope. Pain, lots of pain both physical and even emotional. How are you doing that?” Even without full control, Boon wanted to get as much information as he could.

“Oh how cute, 52 wants to find out how he’s being controlled. Well sorry 52, that's not for me to know or to tell, I’m under the same restrictions as you.” The miqo’te girl bit into her cobb salad, picking at it randomly as the waiter at the Bismarck brought over a carafe of water. “How did 46 take the information I gave her? Did it distract her sufficiently?”

Boon stared a moment dumbfounded behind his reuben bite. 46… ah, their term for Katalin. “Yeah, she thinks you were unprofessional and just appeared to dump information on us. I told her we’d check for bugs put around the house.” Another bite then, and Boon took a drink to cleanse his pallet. “But nobody checks behind this,” Boon tapped his eyepatch. “So it’s perfectly safe.”

The female miqo’te nodded, sipping her own water and diving back into her cobb salad. “Good. Oh, while you’re here… do you know how 46 got away from our underwater base? Our masters would like to know.”

Masters… that would be something that Boon would spit out with pure vitriol when he was forced to, but he knew he’d be forced to. Corsa’ir considered his options before responding, having all of seconds to do so. He was familiar with people forcing him to answer things, of being tricked and manipulated or mentally drawn to one thing or another. This wasn’t mind control though, it was mind pushing. Nothing compelled him to answer truthfully, but he wanted to… that bothered him.

Then again…

“No,” He answered truthfully. In multiple respects, Boon really didn’t know how Calcifer, aka the House of Mystery worked. Moreover, he wasn’t there when Katalin had made her escape from them. Sure, she had told him how she got away but how was he to know if that was true? Boon had lied to Katalin, so why wouldnt Katalin sometimes lie to Boon? There were multiple work arounds for mind-swaying, and he would abuse them all.

“A shame,” The girl miqo’te in the pink jumper said. “I guess we’ll just have to ask her when we bring her in.”

Interesting, they intended to bring her in. “Yeah?” All Boon said in reply.

“You’re still intending to go to Thavnair right?” The girl miqo’te asked.

Boon nodded, “Mmhm,” All Boon said in reply.

“Good.” The miqo’te said.

The next day.

Corsa’ir stabbed an old woman who’d fleeced him on a tender 50,000 gil deal a few Moons back who had come to ask him for a loan. He hid the body in 11 different trash recepticles.

The next day.

Boon pondered if having his moral sense of right and wrong being stripped was so much of a bad thing. He pondered this while he flensed a middle-aged seadog who refused to give him information on ‘Faux’. The mysterious organization that had very recently stuck a fake eyeball in Boon’s normally empty eye socket was something of an interest to him lately. In the end, the seadog hadn’t talked. Maybe didn’t know anything either, but that didn’t matter to Corsa’ir. He at least had a pile of useless skin left after and another body to deposit in several locations.

The next day.

Corsa’ir realized he could fight against the moral compass eyeball programming that was interfering with his mind. It made him tired though, enormously tired to do so. He would have to use that strategically. Boon played cards with his friends that night, trying to think of the best way to sneak information to them about what was really happening, but each and every time he was stymied. Afterward, he had a long talk with Katalin about boat houses and getting away. His mind screamed more than a bit inwardly. How to communicate…

The next day.

One day away from their trip to Thavnair… they had a job to do that night, but so far it seemed like this group, Faux had no idea what Cirque really did. So far, it seemed that they knew nothing other than Cirque was a circus, and Boon was a rather easy mark test subject for their latest experiment.

That night, Boon resolved to act. Every choice he made that counter-acted the eye made him more tired, and protecting someone other than him, if he reasoned his own mind well enough, tired him out. But at the same time, he was instructed by the mental programming of the eyeball to ‘act normally’. He could use this.

Shield everyone and not himself. Shield Brandt from dying from giant flaming hands with weapons. Shield the target who could likely die and not have it impact Corsa’ir at all. Everything was about mental trickery, everything was about giving them a CHANCE to discover it. There was a critical flaw in the faux--- FAKE eyeball in Boon’s left eye. He wasn’t allowed to let people know about it, but if they discovered it on their own? Nothing told him there was follow-up programming to it, a critical flaw he could exploit. So shield them, fight the moral stripping at the cost of his exhaustion and the ramping overwhelming headache he was being put under.

Boon collapsed, unconscious at the end. His last thought, the one he dared have was ‘Now they’ll give me a scan back at our base of operation, now they’ll see’. No scan was done.

After Boon awoke, he put an eyepatch on in the recuperation room, exhausted… the group was arguing about someone’s action. The eyeball went back to work, and Boon snapped. There was another option though, his last real shot. Don’t act like himself. It wasn’t exactly warning them, it was just him--

Headaches came hard and fast, but Boon persisted. He faltered sometimes that night, slipping into what felt like normal action but every chance he got, Boon tried and tried hard to act not like himself. His headaches grew…

Katalin had gotten so close… He tried so hard to spell it out for her without breaking the demands on him, the things that controlled him. Corsa’ir practically wanted to scream to her, ‘SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH ME’, but Katalin didn’t catch on…

The day of the Thavnair trip arrived, and Boon prepared.

#ffxiv rp

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wilsonsnest · 5 years ago

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[w&s] date night

more general store/diner au because everyone needs that extremely specific au in their life. i only posted the last one to ao3 because it was a spicy meatball. you can find both previous parts of wilson’s & stucky’s here.

every time i write one of these it gets increasingly fluffier.

pairing: samsteve, sambucky word count: 2,972 summary: sam and steve go on a date, then bucky and steve cross a boundary.

Steve often considers that anywhere else, hell even the next town over, what they were doing would be considered outlandishly weird. But he and Bucky had basically grown up in each other’s pockets, the only brief interlude being when Bucky had shipped off with the Army. Even one less arm and ptsd between them couldn’t shake their unbreakable bond.

So the fact that the ended up falling for the same guy wasn’t all that surprising. Them both agreeing to share had been a little more unexpected, especially since Steve knew he could be a possessive bastard when he wanted to be. But if there was anyone he was willing to share Sam’s affections with, it was Bucky. And Sam clearly adored Bucky, and he’d give Sam the world on a platter if he could.

It worked out for the most part. They spent a lot of time together at Sam’s place, though Bucky tended to sleep over more. Though their relationships often intertwined, there were some major differences. Bucky and Sam almost never went out on dates. Occasionally, they’d stop by Red/Hawk’s for a quick drink and to catch up with everyone. But they never stayed for long and Bucky always grew more uncomfortable the more crowded the bar got.

Steve and Sam on the other hand, went out as often as possible. The town of Ridley was about a 45 minute drive, and while it wasn’t huge, it had a movie theatre and a few chain restaurants that made for a fairly good date night. Steve absolutely treasured those nights with Sam. Holding his hands in the dark theatre while they giggled and scoffed at the latest stupid action thriller.

Before Sam, Steve had thought mainstream dating culture was tedious. Now that he was with Sam? He sort of hated that Bucky wasn’t able to experience the same thing.

Case in point. He was leaving the closing up tonight to Bucky while he and Sam caught a 10pm movie. He changed in the employee bathroom, running his fingers through his hair to try and look a little more presentable. Ducking into the kitchen, he caught Bucky slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“Hey, Buck, I’m about to head out. You good?” Steve had asked him at least twice already. Worrying about Bucky was second nature at this point.

“M’fine, Steve.” Bucky over at him, his mouth twisted into a complicated not-quite frown. “Your gonna be late if you don’t get outta here.”

“I’m getting there.” Steve huffed, smiling a little. “If you need anything—“

“Call you, yeah, I know.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “Tell Sam I said hi.”

“That all?”

“Fuck off, Steve. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I make no promises.”

x x x x

The movie date ended up being quite successful. They strategically chose a movie that had been out for quite a while, hoping to avoid the Saturday night crowds. Of course, being the weekend meant there were a few other patrons in the theatre. But Sam and Steve had arrived early and managed to commandeer the very back, and none of the other moviegoers seemed interested in sharing space. The scattered crowd meant that they could spend the movie holding hands and leaning over to whisper to one another during the frankly uninteresting feature.

Sam leaned over into Steve’s space, while grabbing a handful of popcorn from their shared bucket. “You still chugging through the Hobbit or did you give up?”

He couldn’t see Steve’s grimace in the darkness of the theatre, but he knew it was there.

“I haven’t ‘given up’.” Steve muttered, nudging Sam with his shoulder. “I’m just reading at my own pace. Taking it all in.”

Sam snorted and ate a few pieces of popcorn. “It’s boring, isn’t it. You hate it.”

“I don’t hate it.” Steve said stubbornly. “It’s just not my usual taste.”

Sam barely stifled a laugh. For some reason they started watching movie franchises. It had started after he, Bucky and Steve had watched all of the original Star Trek together and then decided to add on the films. Sam had suggested they do the Lord of the Rings trilogy, which they had all enjoyed immensely. Bucky’s suggestion came in the form of The Matrix, which kind of outshined Sam’s choice in a big way. Then of course Steve had to go ahead and suggest the Hobbit movies and Sam had put his foot down.

He asked Steve if he had ever even read the book. And if he really thought watching a children’s novel be spread out over three full length films was really the best use of their time. Steve had asserted that no he hadn’t read the book, and thus a deal was struck. If Steve could get through The Hobbit and still wanted to watch the movies Sam would acquiesce.

It had been five months now and updates from Bucky suggested that they still had a long ways to go before Steve was anywhere near finishing. They had moved onto the X-Men movies, much to Steve’s annoyance.

“By time you finish they’ll have remade the Lord of the Rings movies.” Sam said playfully.

With an exaggerated yawn, he stretched his arms up over his head, before looping on arm around Steve’s shoulders. He could feel his boyfriend shaking with laughter, trying to constrain his noise level. Sam smirked triumphantly even as Steve playfully slapped his chest.

“Real smooth, Sam.”

“Hey, I gotta take my chances where I see ‘em.”

They turned their attention back to the movie, which seemed to be in its final act as explosions seems to be setting off and everyone had very serious, determined looks on their faces. They finished the movie in silence, their hands occasionally brushing in the popcorn bucket. As soon as the credits hit, Steve stood, brushing the crumbs off his t-shirt and looked down at Sam.

“What’d you think?” He asked as he offered Sam his hand.

Sam smiled, Steve could be such a gentleman at times. It was endearing as hell. “5 out of 10, no idea what happened but everything seemed to work out at the end so I count that as a win.”

“Your generosity is one of the things I love about you.” Steve said cheekily. He swiped Sam’s coat before the taller man could grab it and helped him into the sleeves before Sam shrugged it the rest of the way on himself.

Steve led them out of the theatre, dutifully depositing their popcorn bucket in the trash as they headed out into the dark lobby. There were still a few movies playing, but the theatre was otherwise closed.

Out in the parking lot, the air was crisp and Sam quickly buttoned his coat. Winter was moving in much faster than Sam had anticipated, and it was one thing he was not looking forward to. He sighed in relief as Steve unlocked the door to the truck and climbed in immediately.

“You wanna stay the night?” Sam asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“Hmm.” Steve reached over to turn on the heat and then the radio. “Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to come over to ours?”

Sam raised an eyebrow at that suggestion. Sam spent very little time at Steve and Bucky’s home. It was a beautiful two-floor stone cottage type, fairly close to lakeside. Sam liked the place, but it always felt like there were boundaries all over the home. Places were Steve wouldn’t cross and Bucky wouldn’t cross. Sam’s home truly was neutral territory for all of them.

Still the temptation was there. He would love to see Bucky tonight instead of just calling him before bed.

“He’d never say it,” Steve started as he pulled out of the parking space. “But he misses you when we go out like this.”

“Ah,” Sam sighed, looking forward out the window. “Do you think it bothers him?”

“No. Well,” Steve paused and tried to figure out how he wanted to phrase the next part. “When he goes to your house, I can always just drop by and visit. But he can’t… join us for stuff like this. It sucks.”

Sam wasn’t surprised to hear the depth of emotion in Steve’s voice. He could see his boyfriend’s hands were tense on the steering wheel. It was always so heartwarming to see how much Steve and Bucky truly cared about one another and their relationships with Sam. He remembered in the beginning, thinking that all three of them were going to date. Steve and Bucky had quickly assured him that they had no desire to date each other.

They were best friends. Brothers, really.

Sam thought it was more than that, platonic soulmates at the very least. But he knew both Bucky and Steve would just scoff at the suggestion. Sam was just happy to know that they cared about one another so fiercely. It made worrying less harrowing when you had someone else to do it with.

“It does kind of suck.” Sam admitted. He loved his date nights with Bucky. They would pile pillows and blankets onto the couch. Sometimes even light candles when they were feeling fancy and just watch re-runs of tv shows for hours. It was soothing, and Sam cherished those nights deeply.

But sometimes he wished he could do more for Bucky. His dark-haired boyfriend couldn’t quite hide the disappointment of not being able to take Sam out for movies, or dinner, or any of the other traditional date night activities.

“It’s alright though,” Sam murmured quietly, almost forgetting Steve was next to him. “I just like it when we’re together.”

He felt a hand rest gently on his thigh and looked up to see a soft smile on Steve’s lips. Sam couldn’t help the warmth that flooded his chest as he considered just how lucky he was.

x x x x

The lights were off by time they pulled up the gravel road to the lakeside cottage. Bucky probably wasn’t expecting Steve home and had likely gone to bed.

They hurried out of the car and into the home, trying escape the cold air, especially being so close to water. Steve flipped on one of the lights, while Sam shrugged out of his coat and shoes to hang them by the door.

“I didn’t bring anything to sleep in.” Sam whispered the realization. Since he rarely stayed over, it usually wasn’t a problem.

“You should be able to fit something of Bucky’s.” Steve finished taking off his coat and beckoned Sam to follow him.

They went to the small closet laundry room and Steve pulled out a shirt from the dryer. It was gray and worn, and far too big for Sam. It smelled delightfully of the detergent he had come to associate with both of his boyfriend’s.

Sam smiled gratefully and immediately pulled off his long-sleeved shirt, trying not to smirk at the way Steve’s eyes lingered on his body as he changed. Perhaps he was being a bit naughty, taking off his jeans right there in the hallway, but it was worth it for the look Steve gave him. If it weren’t so late, perhaps.

Sam bundled up his clothes and put them on top of the washing machine. He opened his mouth to speak when Steve quickly pressed him against the appliance. Sam felt his ass digging into the cold steel and he made an abrupt noise of surprise.

“Too damn tall.” Steve groused, as he pushed a knee between Sam’s leg and reached up to pull Sam down.

Amused, Sam obliged and leaned down to kiss his shorter boyfriend, sweet at first. Steve made a noise of regret as soon as they pulled away and tugged Sam down again for a much more intensive exploration. Sam could practically feel himself melting, the irresistible taste and feel of Steve tempting him.

He pulled away, trying to keep a cool head even as he looked down at Steve’s wet, reddened lips. “It’s way too late for this.”

“I can be quick.” Steve said cheekily, though his mood seemed more relaxed.

“You’re a mess, Rogers.” Sam laughed and shook his head. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead before playfully pushing him away. “D’you think Bucky would mind…?”

“I think he’ll be pleasantly surprised.” Steve answer encouragingly, putting a hand on Sam’s back. “Go on.”

Sam flashed him a grateful smile before heading up the stairs to Bucky’s bedroom. The door was only half closed, which made it easy for him to quietly enter. The room was fairly dark, though the glow of the clock on Bucky’s dresser made it easier to see. He carefully sat at the foot of Bucky’s bed, not wanting to startle him.

He reached out until he felt the lump of a foot underneath the comforter and called gently. “James?”

For a moment, he’d thought perhaps he had been too soft when he heard a shuffling and then movement underneath his hand.

“Steve?” Bucky’s voice was rough with sleep and he sounded adorably confused.

“Nah, the handsome one.” Sam replied.

In an instance, light flooded the room as Bucky turned on the lamp nearby. Sam squinted, startled by the sudden brightness and could see Bucky doing the same. His boyfriend’s hair was a mess, sticking up at odd angles and twisting around his head. He still looked half-asleep, blinking at Sam like he wasn’t quite sure of what he was seeing.

“Sammy?” Bucky finally asked, the question lilting upwards at the end.

“Hi Bucky.” Sam ducked his head, suddenly feeling a little shy. He watched at Bucky’s eyes flickered to the shirt Sam was wearing as realization dawned.

“Sammy.” His voice was almost achingly soft.

Sam couldn’t resist anymore and crawled up the bed to Bucky, smiling as his boyfriend immediately wrapped his arm around him. Barely awake, but looking at Sam like he was the most wondrous thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Sam smiled brightly before leaning in and kissing Bucky, heart fluttering at the other man eagerly kissed back.

“I missed you.” Sam said when they pulled away, looking up at Bucky from under his lashes.

“How was your date?” Bucky asked, the slightest protective streak coming out.

Sam reached up and cradled Bucky’s cheek, touched by his concern. “Perfect, well,” Sam shook his head. “The movie wasn’t good but the company was great.”

“Oh good, about Steve. Not the movie.” Bucky’s brows knitted together before he yawned loudly right in Sam’s face. “Oh, God, sorry.”

Sam’s shoulders shook with the effort of stopping himself from laughing. “No, you're exhausted, I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Bucky tugged him closer. “Glad you’re here.”

Sam smiled and tucked his head under Bucky’s chin. He sighed as Bucky laid back down, pulling Sam on top of him. The light was still on, and Sam was the closest, but he just wanted to lay there for a moment. Bucky’s familiar lavender soap and lemon-scented clorox wipe smell easily relaxing him.

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky murmured quietly, seemingly in no hurry to move either.

Sam didn’t have the answer as there was a knock on the door and then Steve poked his head in, probably seeing that the light was still on.

“Just saying good night.” He said sheepishly, probably feeling like he was intruding. “Closing went alright, Buck?”

Bucky let out a mock over-dramatic sigh. “Yes, Steve. I managed to survive the night.”

“I’m very proud of you.” Steve’s voice was so earnest that both Sam and Bucky had to laugh. “Seriously, I appreciate it. We had a good time.”

“Glad you're both back safe.” Bucky’s voice was warm, his eyes looking from Steve then down to Sam nestled against his chest.

“G’night then, Bucky. Love you Sam.” Steve reached to close the door when Bucky stopped him.

“Wait, wait.” Bucky raised his voice just a little. He bit his lip, hesitating only for a moment before he jerked his head up. “C’mon, the bed’s big enough.”

Steve’s eyes widened so much that Sam had to close his eyes to keep form laughing. The blonde just stood in the doorway for a moment, too surprised to even respond. This was not a boundary they had crossed over at their home. Sure, they’d done it at Sam’s because that was the only bed available, but here?

Sam finally looked and saw that Steve was obviously calculating the pros and cons in his head. But he also knew the longer Steve hesitated, the more anxious Bucky was going to get.

“Steve, its a cold night.” Sam spoke up, trying to ease the tension. “I’ll definitely need the extra body warmth.”

Both Bucky and Steve snorted at that. Steve’s body was about as useful as a heater as a thin towel in Alaska. Despite that, the sentiment seemed enough for Steve to take up the offer. Bucky scooted over so that Sam would be in the middle and Steve climbed into bed on Sam’s right. He turned off the lights before snuggling up against Sam’s back, sighing contentedly.

“S’just like when we were kids, huh, Buck?” Steve whispered, his breath ghosting pleasantly against Sam’s back.

“Sam’s a much better cuddler than Mister Honeysuckle.” Bucky asserted.

“Mister Honeysuckle?” Sam asked, confused.

“Big stuffed giraffe we won at a carnival.” Steve explained as a he wrapped an arm around Sam.

Sam hummed in understanding before letting out a yawn of his own. Quiet fell as all three of them began to answer the tempting call of sleep. Sam couldn’t help but be so grateful to be able to have them both like this.

“I won that giraffe, Rogers.”

Was the last thing whispered into the night.

#samsteve #sambucky #sam wilson #steve rogers #bucky barnes #wilson and stucky's #domestic af #theres no stucky sorry #my fanfic tag

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gkingoffez · 6 years ago

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Written for @bizarrebird, for @redvsbluesecretsanta 2018, who requested Tucker fluff on Iris, with a side of Tuckington.

Have a Merry Christmas and/or happy holiday season everyone, and thanks for reading my work this year!

Words: 2,497

AO3 | FFN.Net

Only after the Chorus contingent has flown away and the initial hubbub of excited exploring has died down a bit, can Tucker finally slip away for a moment of motherfucking peace.

He climbed to the roof of the brand new Blue base and took a 360 survey of the landscape surrounding their new home.

It was fucking beautiful, so far removed from the grimey Armonia cityscape, the hellish heat of temple or even Blood Gulch’s lifeless desert canyon. Mountains rose up in the distance, blue peaks with rocky cliffs and greenish yellow grass spread out before them. Several armoured figures were darting about near the shore of the giant blue lake in the centre of it all, including a bird-chasing Caboose and Donut, and a pair of helmetless ex- Freelancers.

Wash’s ass looked particularly muscular from a distance.

Overall, it was different to any moon Tucker had even been to, more like the pictures of New Zealand from before global warming had fucked up nature’s shit than the dusty, unoccupied parts of Earth’s moon, or even the teeming jungle moon Endor from Star Wars.

It was pretty and picturesque and nice and just... good.

They deserved a break, and a beautiful place to relax in, and hopefully not fuck up too much (Sarge had already been talking about setting up perimeter mines and homing rockets, which could only end badly).

They needed some time away from the rest of the galaxy, without traumatising separation, civil wars, asshole mercenaries and all that general soldier bullshit getting in the way of what they did best- standing around and talking.

This was what they’d been promised when they boarded that ship back to Blood Gulch oh so long ago, and damnit was Tucker gonna take every advantage he could while it lasted.

The dusk arrived, and then gave way to evening as Tucker sat there. Caboose had fallen into the lake, shed his armour and rolled around in the grass in the interim, while Wash and Carolina had long since retreated inside.

Tucker sat and looked up to the sky and the stars. They were different from the ones over Chorus or Earth or Blood Gulch or anywhere else, which was another good thing. New stars, new chances, new beginnings for all.

He has a moment of utter peace before he falls asleep.

“The stars are different, aren’t they?”

There was a beat of silence in the cool evening air.

“...Are you being serious right now?” asked Wash. “Tucker, you do realise we’re in an entirely different star system now, right?”

Tucker scoffed indignantly. “I’m not an idiot, dude, I was just pointing out that- you know what, nevermind.”

Wash rustled on the grass beside him, obviously thinking. There was a pause

“No, I get what you mean. It always takes a while for your brain to adjust to new patterns and environments, of course the sky looks different to your eyes. I guess humans aren’t really evolved to adapt to new skies, but if we’d stayed with what was familiar and comfortable, we’d never have left Earth, I guess.”

“...no need start philosophising dude. The stars are different, it ain’t that deep.”

Wash huffed in amusement, and Tucker glanced at him. His silver streaked hair glinted in the planet-light.

“On a somewhat related note, what’s your favourite night sky?” asked Wash, still staring straight upwards.

Tucker raised his eyebrow in confusion.

“Favourite planet to view the sky from, I mean. Like, Earth is a classic, there’s so many well-known constellations.”

“Dunno,” grunted Tucker. “But Earth would be the boring choice, besides, you can barely see anything through the pollution.”

Wash inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling.

“I did basic in Leonis-Minoris. It’s a binary system, you know, so it wasn’t dark planet-side too often. But when both stars set, boy did it get dark. Camp was out in the middle of nowhere away from the light pollution of the colonies, so you really could see everything, even the dust from the Milky Way. Any shooting star you saw was guaranteed to be a ship entering the atmosphere, though, so that took a little bit of the magic away.”

“Sick,” added Tucker.

“What about Blood Gulch?” asked Wash, twisting until he was on his side facing Tucker. “You were there, what, five years? You must have spent a lot of time looking up with nothing else to do.”

Tucker couldn’t help it- he burst into laughter. “Are you being serious, dude? The sun barely ever set there, and when it did it wasn’t some huge event. Yeah, maybe there was a heap of stars because we were in the middle of goddamn nowhere, but none of us gave a shit either way; it was all about dealing with the stupidity and trying not to die of boredom on a daily basis.”

Wash chuckled. “I forgot about that, although to be fair I only really skimmed that report before I visited. Did I ever tell you about Sarge’s cardboard cutouts?”

“God, that’s not even the worst thing Sarge did. One time his robot started a revolution with our tank at the most inconvenient fucking time possible.”

“Sounds familiar. Have you seen him gathering materials for his new army lately?”

Tucker groaned. “Not this again.”

Wash chuckled, then laid his hand over Tucker’s. They turned and grinned at each other, Wash’s smile turning from amused to a familiar softness.

“Who knows- maybe your newfound appreciation for simple things like stars means that you’ve grown a bit since Blood Gulch.”

Tucker looked into Wash’s shadowed eyes.

“Maybe, yeah,” he sighed.

“Yeah,” smiled Wash.

“Yeah,” interjected Caboose dreamily.

“Caboose, I thought I told you to stay quiet!” snapped Tucker, jerking in the other direction. He had almost forgotten that his dumbass teammate was there, lying on his other side.

“I know, but you were all agreeing to something and I wanted to agree too!”

“Fucking hell, man,” said Tucker, shaking his head. He wove his fingers more tightly in Wash’s, settled onto his back again and looked back to the stars. The night was clear and revealed thousands upon thousands of tiny bright dots.

“Hey Tucker, which one of them is Chorus?” Caboose asked, pointing upwards.

Tucker groaned. Wash sniggered.

“You’ve been out there like five times already. What the fuck do you even do up there so late?” asked Grif, as he shovelled food into his mouth at the breakfast table like a starving man. “Are you taking those magazines and beating off all night?”

“That’s gross, Grif,” yelled Carolina from across the table.

“No, asshole. I’m just taking some time to myself. Just lying there, looking up at the sky, thinking about stuff, taking in the view, ya’know.”

Grif paused with a burrito halfway to his mouth. “Sounds like some girly shit, dude.”

“Stop talking, Grif,” came Carolina’s voice.

Tucker shrugged, taking a swig of his coffee. “It gets me away from you fuckwits, so it must be worth it.”

They chose a spot near the lake to meet after dinner, all sitting in a circle in various stages of armour wear, from Caboose’s pyjamas to Carolina’s full suit (minus only helmet) and weapon lineup.

Tucker cleared his throat.

“Here ye, here ye! I call this band meeting to order. Judge Tucker, sex-god and your humble leader, presiding.”

He banged a rock down on the ground like a gavel.

“You’re not the leader, Tucker,” said Grif, flat-toned. He rustled with the packet of M&Ms in his hand.

“Yeah, if anyone’s the leader, that would have to be the lead singer,” sung Carolina, drawing out the last word torturously long.

Tucker fought back the urge to grimace, and exchanged knowing a look with Grif. If only they had the balls to tell Carolina she wasn’t that good of a singer. If only.

“Anyway,” said Carolina, “We don’t have to decide that now, we’ll have plenty of time to iron out the details later. Firstly, and maybe most importantly, we need to come up with a name.”

“The Red Beatles,” said Grif.

“Fuck no, Twenty-One Blues,” shot back Tucker.

“Caboose and His Best Friends!” interjected Caboose excitedly, waving his arms.

“Also something we don’t have to decide right now,” conceded Carolina. “So we have all our instruments and know all our roles... so, uh, anything else we need to talk about?”

“Yeah, I have a question. Why the fuck are we out here again?” Grif huffed, gesturing around. “There’s a perfectly good room with a perfectly good couch in the base and instead I gotta pull pebbles out my ass because Tucker has a hard on for nature suddenly?”

“Dude!” cried Tucker. “Artists draw inspiration from nature all the time. Just look at this shit.” He gestured upwards, all three of his friends followed his hand. “You could write a thousand love songs looking at this.”

The sky that night was on the more breathtaking end of Iris’ spectrum- They had no need for any light source other than it, the light reflecting from the planet and the ocean of stars enveloping it enough to make the whole moon surface glow.

“You still haven’t told me which one is Chorus yet, Tucker,” Caboose said quietly.

“Boo hoo, nature’s pretty, the sky’s so sexy I wanna die, waaaaah,” cried Grif pettily. “That’s what you sound like, Tucker.”

“Fuck off, red.”

Carolina shook her head. “I mean, yeah’s it’s beautiful, Tucker, but we need to get back to band business now. Now, hear me out boys, and don’t say anything until I’m finished- one word, tassles-”

Tucker had never suffered so much in his life as he did trying to swallow back a groan in that moment. He looked up.

“Do you miss Church?” Sarge asked gruffly, out of nowhere, not looking up from cleaning his gun.

Tucker shuffled, surprised and pensive. It was just the two of them, leaning up against their ramshackle base on the cusp of sunrise. A pale sky and dim stars stretched above them- either of them had spoken a word, both still shaking off sleep and a chill in the air.

Tucker swirled his coffee between his bare fingers.

“I don’t know. Probably. Wasn’t the first time he left, you know? I’m used to it.”

Sarge grunted in acknowledgment and brought the barrel of his shot to eye level, peering down to check for blockages.

“He saved us all, in the end. This is probably the nicest thing I’ll ever say about one of you Blues, but I’m gonna miss him.”

Tucker swallowed. There was a tightness behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” was all he said in reply.

“Tucker...”

Tucker started from his doze at the sound.

“Tucker... ooooHHhhhh.”

He looked around, peering blearily through the darkness, the familiar landscape forming around him- outside on the rocky cliffside, he’d fallen asleep under the stars again. Not too unusual for him lately.

Something poked at his side, and he reached under the thin camp mattress he’d commandeered for stargazing, and pulled out a sharp rock, which was promptly thrown away.

“Tucker I am a ghoooost! Ooohhhhhh I am... scaryyyyyyy.”

Tucker sighed very audibly, rubbing at his eyes.

“Caboose, get your fucking ass back in this dimensional plane right now,” he yelled into the night. “If I can hear you now that means you must have found a way back- so just come through before you’re lost in the abyss for all eternity, or some shit.”

There was a pause, then-

“Oooooooh. Scary ghost! Scarrryyyyyyyy!”

Tucker was tired. He just wanted to go back to sleep.

“Come on dude. Wash is getting worried about you. Just come back.”

Another silent beat.

“...okay. Sorry.”

“Good. And you’re not a ghost, okay? Don’t say that.”

With a grunt, Tucker rolled over. He shot a glance at the starry sky above him, smeared with wisps of clouds, before settling back in to sleep.

He swore he heard footsteps walking down the rocky path to the base as he drifted off.

It was muggy beyond all belief.

Instead of tossing all night, sweating through the sheets and disturbing Wash, Tucker opted for a the second option. He carefully jumped up, pulled some boxers on, grabbed his camp mattress and set up shop a little ways outside their jumbled-together base.

He lay with his arms folded under his head in the somewhat fresh night air, gazing straight up at the now familiar stars.

Tucker would never admit it to anyone around him, but he was enjoying his stargazing habit far more than he’d expected. If you’d told him a year ago he’d spent so many nights outside pondering stars, Tucker would have laughed his ass off.

But between the fire, the dinosaurs, the water park, the robots, the second fire, the dinosaur-robot war and having no one else to talk to but all his idiot friends, the peace of Iris at night and the twinkling of burning stars a thousand star systems away was a respite among chaos. It was kinda like his rock back in Blood Gulch, in that sense.

It wasn’t every night (he wasn’t nearly that sentimental, god), just every once in a while. He’d sneak off, maybe take Wash or anyone else who felt like it with him (which didn’t happen often, not that he minded) and chill out away from the crazy everyday shit that went down when multi-coloured idiots all lived together on a moon in the middle of nowhere space.

Truth be told, he’d never been a fan of stars before- maybe there’d been more interest in the universe before it all became so commonplace (and dangerous), but cultural attitudes had changed. He hadn’t joined the military to travel, mostly just to pick up hot military chicks and maybe fire a gun.

It was entirely possible he still wasn’t a fan of stars, and was just trying to vainly recreate that initial moment of peace from the first night on Iris. Maybe he was a sappy bitch at heart. Who fucking knew?

All he knew was that when he lay down and looked up at night, things were kinda okay. Nothing was on fire, people weren’t dying and his friends were all safe and asleep just down the hill.

It wouldn’t stay that way forever, and the system’s sunwould rise in a few hours, bringing new daily terrors. Grif could very well spike someone else’s food with his Meth-Meth, Carolina could take another opportunity to ‘practice’ her ‘singing’ and Sarge was extremely likely to be continuing his impossible war against gravity as soon as he humanly could.

Anything was possible. They could be dragged into another galaxy-hopping adventure any day now, or Donut could succeed in burning the entire moon down, them along with it.

The future was up in the air, but at that moment, Tucker felt peace as he stared up at the twinkling stars, the warm air a comforting blanket to lull him back to sleep.

#my writing #red vs blue #lavernius tucker #tuckington #rvb secret santa #rvb secret santa 2018 #rvb

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calizonia · 7 years ago

Text

Diary (p.p)

this was 1,507 words god bless

requested by : @lizwritings 😍

warnings: swearing, angst???? , fluff ????

The fact that Peter Benjamin Parker had invited you, (Y/N) (L/N), over his house to study for your Spanish test on Thursday was absolutely phenomenal. But, you were flipping out.

The guy who took up a good portion of your diary, the guy who you thought would put Clark Kent to justice had invited you to his humble home. But, hey, what’s the worse that could happen? You guys would just be studying and helping each other pronounce words.

~*~*~*~*~*

You were wrong. You were so fucking wrong to the point where it could be the dumbest thought you’ve ever conjured.

“Hey, (Y/N), since we’re on the topic of movies, what’s yours?” Peter asked, looking up from his textbook to look at you, “mine is anything dealing with Star Wars.”

“O-Oh, umm, me? Well. . . I’m particularly fond of (Movie Name), but Star Wars is cool as well...” you said, doing your best to avoid his eyes.

“Really? Have you watched the latest one?” He asked, the excitement in his tone causing you to let out a quiet laugh.

“Ahhh, no? I’ve only watched a few movies,” you weren’t lying exactly if it meant watching 3 movies and getting 30 minutes into it then falling asleep.

It was silent. You immediately racked your brain of what you could’ve said to make him so quiet. Looking up you seen him looking at you with a goofy smile.

“Peter?”

“(Y/N) we gotta have a movie marathon.”

That sealed the deal.

“Oh, hey! Peter! Wow, we’ve been studying for a while now how about I go down the street and get us a pizza? Yeah? Okay! See you in a few,” you’ve never walked out of a room so fast.

Peter stared after you before he checked the time on his phone. 8:37 P.M., he shrugged realizing he was a bit hungry anyway.

To be honest, he was trying to get to know you better. After a pep talk with Ned and a slap on the ass from MJ to get him to grow a pair and ask you if you wanted to come over and study and you accepting had his heart racing for the rest of the day.

And now, he was wondering if he blew it, seeing you rush out of his house knocked his confidence down a few levels, but at least he knew you were coming back because you left your backpack.

He told himself that he could be a good friend by taking out the green textbook for you since that was the one with the most facts that would help you tremendously on the test.

Grabbing your backpack he began rummaging through it, spotting the green textbook and spotting another small book that he hasn’t seen.

Setting the green book next to your seat he grabbed the little book, wondering if it was something you kept your notes in. He opened it to a random page titled September 7th, 20XX

“This is recent,” he muttered , scanning the page that had his name on it a few times.

“...this is really cliché, but is it wrong to think that Peter could be the Clark Kent to my Louis Lane? Or the Romeo to my Juliet, minus the dying parts though, because I feel like it could be. Ever since the first day, Peter caught my eye. There was something about him. . . something different. I didn’t notice it until a month ago that I realized that Peter is something equivalent to my soulmate, but it’s like a love triangle??? No a love line, like my heart belongs to Peter. . .but he’s pining over Liz who quite possibly likes him back. . .hell I wouldn’t know, wow this entry isn’t making any sending so I’m just going to leave it here. I’m gonna end the entry with what I say all the time, but in a different language, since we have a Spanish test on Thursday, which I actually need to start studying for. Te amo, Peter B. Parker.”

Holy shit. Holy shit. Oh, wow, oh Lord.

“Peter. . .did you just read my diary?” He jumped at the sound of your voice, not even hearing you come in even though the smell of pizza was prominent. Looking up at you he nearly wished he could turn back time and made a different choice because the hurt and heartbreak in your eyes is the worst punishment he could ever receive.

You quickly walked over to him and grabbed your diary and shoving it in your backpack. You grabbed your other study materials and put them in your backpack.

“The pizza’s on the counter,” was the last thing you said before leaving. And, he just let you go.

The next day at school was absolute hell for the both of you with you trying to avoid Peter at all costs while he was trying to get your attention.

“What’d you do to her?” Ned asked during lunch as he and Peter watched you and MJ from afar, “I read her diary,” Peter sighed.

“You read her what?! Peter, I’d ask if you we’re high, but I know that’s unlikely. Dude, what were you thinking?!” Ned slapped Peter on the back of his head.

“I wasn’t, but Ned, it said ‘Te Amo, Peter B. Parker’ doesn’t ‘te amo’ mean ‘i love you’ in Spanish?” Peter asked which caused Ned to roll his eyes, “I don’t know, you take Spanish, you tell me.”

“It does! And, I always thought (Y/N) was cute, but the fact that she likes me is a different story,” Peter picked at the food on his tray with his fork. “A good or bad different type of story?” Ned asked.

Peter looked up from his tray to look at you. He took in how you looked, how your eyes shone with every type of emotion, how nice your hair looked everyday, and the laugh that he never knew he needed until now.

“It’s a great different.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*

On your way home you thought about how Peter longingly looked at you after lunch every time you were in the halls or when you were in the same class.

It felt weird, not a good or bad type of weird, just a bit abnormal. The type of weird that had to make you think about what it would mean. Which is exactly what you were going to do once you reached your house.

Saying hello to your (parent(s)/caregiver(s)) you went to your room and you swore you would’ve jumped out of your skin with the sight that was in front of you.

Spider-Man.

Fucking Spider-Man was sitting on your bed. In your room.

“Oh, hey,” he said, which caused you to put as much distance between you and him. His voice was surprisingly demonic and deep.

“Shit, Karen!” He turned away from you, whispering, “I told you to disguise my voice not turn me into a demon! Just turn it off.”

He sighed before turning back to you, “Hi,” he waved at you and you weakly waved back, “w-what are you doing here? In my house, in my room...?” you questioned after closing your door.

“I came to apologize,” he said which confused you, “you’ll figure it out in a second, (Y/N),” he told you and you got an odd sense of familiarity with the way he said your name.

“I didn’t mean to read it, (Y/N), I swear I didn’t...I was just trying to help get your books out and I thought you kept your notes in that little book. So, I read it. And I know I should’ve stopped when I seen it wasn’t, but hell (Y/N) you called me the Clark Kent to your Louis Lane and I couldn’t help but read it. (Y/N), I’m so sorry and...I just wanna tell you that the feelings are reciprocated. I love you, (Y/N),” he sniffled before hanging his head down. He sounded on the verge of tears. Spider-Man was going to cry in front of you?

“Wait. . .wait. . .Peter? Peter Parker, i–is that you...?” When he didn’t respond you walked closer to him and laid your hand on his cheek, raising his face so you could look at his big, white eyes. Your hand slowly trailed to his neck, where the end of his mask was.

“Is this okay?” you asked him, he nodded, and you slowly lifted his mask up. Above his chin, over his nose and finally it was off, revealing the boy who you came to love.

“Peter...” you were speechless as you felt yourself tearing up before hugging him tightly, catching him off guard only for a moment before he wrapped his arms around you just as tight.

“Te amo, Peter,” you said into the crevice between his neck and shoulder blade. He smiled before raising your head and placing a soft kiss onto your lips before smiling against them, “te amo, (Y/N).”

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #peter parker #tom holland x reader #tony stark #avengers #avengers x reader #infinity war #peter parker x reader #but tom holland is beautiful #requested #requests #asked #ask #fanfiction #writing

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ficdirectory · 6 years ago

Text

Somewhere Inside (Disuphere series #4) Chapter 69

(To listen, click here) - 20:13

It’s quieter without the rest of the Avoiders here.

It’s Tuesday, the day after everybody went home, and Levi’s mom is serious about “making the lasagna happen.” That means Levi has spent a good chunk of the last 24 hours freaking out. Because what if his fear all those months ago - the one that drove him to wind up at Pearl’s door with bags packed - is really a thing? What if he’s pissed off his own mom enough that she acts like Carla?

If Pearl’s own mom can do what she did, no one’s mom is immune, right?

He’s starting to spin, where his mind is telling him he’s got to be perfect. They’ve got to meet at Mom’s. Not here. They’ve got to do what she wants. And what if he says that, and Pearl can’t join, because of the stress? Then, he’ll be alone.

This is something Pearl would wanna be here for. But it’s also something she might contribute to, without meaning it. And Levi has boundaries and choices and he gets to pick who to call for backup.

He texts Dominique:

Help - Mom freakout. Need code to deactivate ASAP :( Are all moms like her? Is my mom gonna do the thing if I don’t do what she wants?

Dominique texts back within five minutes:

At work but Code = Your mom loves you. Actual for real loves you. She wants to spend time w/ you and wants you & P to be comfortable. PS if you need to call my dad, that’s cool. If you need some dad energy. His name’s Michael. Both Mom and Dad say it’s cool if any Avoiders need them <3

Levi wouldn’t usually, but he needs to talk to somebody, and short of his own dad, he’s had no father figures in his life for the last two years. There’s a number. So, he calls it.

“Michael Williams,” a voice greets. Sounds efficient, but light. Happy.

“Yes, sir. This is Levi West. One of Dominique’s friends…” he hedges.

“Hey, Levi. Call me Michael. Dominique told us about you and your sis. Pretty amazing. How can I help?”

“This...it’s kinda embarrassing but I’m panicking...about something simple. And I know it doesn’t make sense, but I can’t stop.”

“Ah, anxiety.” Michael breathes. “We go way back.”

“Yeah?” Levi asks.

“Oh, yeah,” Michael confirms. “So, we can just slow it down. Take some deep breaths.” He waits, but Levi is waiting too. “See, to take a deep breath, you actually need to take in air. Breathe, Levi. You got this.”

It’s Michael’s calm directness that breaks through. And Levi’s able to take one breath. Then another. Then, he listens, as Levi rambles about how worried he is. He gives the broad strokes: “You know, like when you been hurt by somebody and then you gotta spend time with somebody else like them.”

“When you say, ‘like them,’ what do you mean?” Michael asks.

“I mean, like, say you got hurt...by a giant cookie… And now you gotta spend time with another one.”

“I see…” Michael offers in a tone that makes it clear that he doesn’t see at all. He’s confused, but he is hanging in there, with Levi’s terrible analogy. Which Levi appreciates.

“Or maybe this one’s a pan of lasagna…” Levi muses. “You know what, I’m not really sure. It’s my mom, sir. I haven’t spent time with her in a while, and I’m nervous she’ll resent that. And take it out on me.”

“I see,” Michael says, like he does see now. “And your mother...has she ever hurt you before?”

“No. Never,” Levi answers, certain. “But, someone else’s mom…”

“Ah, I see. So, what’s important to remember?” he says. “Is that your mother? Is not this other mother. What’s she said about seeing you?”

“She’s excited to come see us. Me and my sister.” Levi reviews. “But what if she changed her mind and expects us to come to her, and my sister can’t come with me, and I’m alone there?”

“Breathe,” Michael cues and actually waits until Levi’s able to draw a breath. “If your mother changed her plans, she’d have let you know. You have the most up to date info right in your head. She’s excited to come see you and your sister.” He pauses. “Your mother,” another pause, “is excited to come see you and your sister. That’s the truth. When you feel your mind starting to race? Repeat what you know.”

“That my mother is excited to come see me and my sister,” Levi says, testing it out.

“You got it. That’s what you know. All the rest of it’s noise. Block that out. A second at a time. Those seconds will add up. Trust,” Michael reassures.

“I’m so sorry for calling you like this,” Levi apologizes. “Some first impression.”

“You wanna know my first impression of you?” Michael asks. “Someone who means a great deal to Dominique. Someone who knows his limits. Someone who knows he can reach out if he needs help. To bring in adults when things get too real. You made a solid first impression. You really did.”

“Thank you, sir.” Levi clears his throat. Blinking back tears. “You, um, you remind me of my dad...who’s...not here anymore. Who I miss. Very much.”

“Well, if you ever need some Dadness, you call me.” Michael says, his tone gentling even more.

“You sure Dominique won’t mind?” Levi asks.

“Nah, she knows the truth, too. There’s always enough of Dad to go around,” Michael reassures.

“Thank you.” Levi repeats.

“Take it easy,” Michael urges, and hangs up.

It’s with Michael’s words in his head that Levi heads upstairs, scoping for Pearl. He finds her on the couch, knitting.

Levi checks out the pantry. Then the fridge and freezer. “Pearl, the only ingredients we have on hand for lasagna are frozen corn and salt,” he points out.

“Corn?” she glances up, confused and then shakes her head. “I keep forgetting it’s not traditional, with noodles and sauce and tons of cheeses.”

“No, it’s definitely not that,” he wrinkles his nose. “And I definitely don’t wanna go to SuperOne on my day off. Or, like, ever.”

“So,” Pearl says, thinking out loud. “What do you think...about changing it up a bit? Going to the County Market in town?”

“Farther away,” Levi points out.

“Yeah, but I mean, if it helps put our minds at ease? Why not try it?” Pearl offers.

“Is your mom a County Market fan?” Levi asks, careful.

“Oh, no, SuperOne all the way,” Pearl reassures. “She only goes to County Market if she absolutely must. And then? She always sent me in for her.”

“So…?”

“So, she wouldn’t step foot in there,” Pearl insists, confident.

“Okay, sounds good,” Levi nods.

They drive separately, because it still makes Pearl feel more in control than driving with Levi in the car, too. He gets that. In his own way. Hadn’t he just avoided talking to Pearl about his Mom-panic because of all the ways she might remind him of Carla?

In the store, Pearl gets a cart and settles Cleo in the front, who smiles. She loves all of the smells.

Levi lists ingredients from memory and Pearl finds them quickly, more familiar with the store than he is. They make good time, and check out wherever they want, not worrying about avoiding a certain lane. Or a certain person.

When they get home later, Levi exhales, and offers to put everything away.

“Thanks,” he says, hefting a couple bags in his arms. “I think that worked.”

Pearl doesn’t want to let Levi down, but she is pretty sure, this hasn’t worked. For one thing? She has nothing to wear. For another, the cabin is cluttered and nothing is right about it and also? The kitchen? Is tiny. Only room for one person. Two if one is small, like Francesca.

She’s made a third pass over all her kitchen surfaces when Levi comes to the kitchen doorway and just looks. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Pearl asks.

“It looks like Cleo’s trying to get your attention,” he gestures. Levi’s right of course. Cleo has been trying to get Pearl’s attention for a while. Front paws on her legs.

Taking the hint, Pearl abandons the cleaning and scoops up the dog, sitting in the middle of the floor. Levi joins her, sitting so they can see each other eye to eye.

“I’m nervous, too,” he admits, softly.

“I have nothing to wear. My hair’s not right. The cabin’s...small. Okay, it’s small, Levi. The kitchen will fit one person cooking comfortably at a time, not three of us. God, what was I thinking?” she vents, Cleo nipping at her shaking hands.

“Um… Clothes are good,” Levi offers.

“It’s not funny, Levi. My mother once dragged me into her house and made me change my top before she would agree to drive me to her stylist at her salon. Who did not know the first thing about my hair, by the way. It was an awful trip.”

“My mom doesn’t care about clothes. She cares that they’re clean, and she’d prefer that they don’t have holes, but other than that? She doesn’t care. She’s gonna love your hair. I know, because she was always talking about how with boys’ hair you can’t ‘do it up cute.’”

“Well, my hair is definitely not cute…” Pearl remarks sardonically.

“And the cabin’s perfect. Okay? It’s homey,” Levi counters, predicting Pearl’s next comment.

“Are you sure you didn’t mean homely?” Pearl insists.

“Will you stop, please?” Levi asks. “I get that you’re wound up, but could you at least try to listen to me before you tell me what I say doesn’t matter to you?” he asks.

That stops Pearl in her tracks. “I’m sorry. I’m anxious. I ramble. What you say matters. Maybe…” she breathes, experimentally slowly. “Maybe we should try to slow down…” she suggests.

Levi nods.

After Pearl has breathed for a while, he speaks up: “So, I spoke to Dominique’s dad this morning…”

“Really?” Pearl asks. “You spoke to Dominique’s dad?” She’s trying this thing where she repeats what Levi’s said, asks questions, instead of countering it out of panic. “How was that?”

“He had some good advice…” Levi shrugs. “If you want it.”

“Please,” Pearl says.

“He said to review what we both know about my mom. So…” Levi takes out his phone, so Pearl can see the screen where Mom’s most recent text is visible:

Excited 2 c u & Pearl with a row of hearts.

“That’s what we know?” Pearl asks. “She’s excited to see us?”

“That is what we know,” Levi breathes. “So, Michael, that’s Dominique’s dad, he said whenever we start to spin, to like, repeat what we know about my mom. About dinner tonight.”

“She’s excited to see us,” Pearl fills in.

“That’s it,” Levi nods.

He’s getting up from the floor when Pearl reaches out for his hand. Pearl doesn’t miss the wariness that seeps into his gaze or how he takes a step back almost without realizing.

Pearl drops her hand. Stays seated.

“I was just...going to say thank you. I know we both have...things…and I know my trauma and stuff isn’t great to be around. And it’s not your job? But thank you, for helping me navigate that.” Pearl clarifies, soft.

Levi blinks. “Oh.” His phone chimes with a message. “Mom’s on the way, but she wants to know if you have pans or if she should bring them?” he asks, squinting.

“We do have pans in our possession,” Pearl nods. “I’ve got to get up now. Hardwood floors are not comfortable when you’re my age,” Pearl groans.

“You keep acting like you’re ancient,” Levi quips laughing gently. He offers her a hand. “But in 20 years, I’ll be your age. It ain’t that old…”

“Oh, get back to me when you’re pushing 38, little bro, and we’ll see how you feel about it then…” She grunts, having taken Levi’s hand and gotten to her feet. “I’m gonna go get dressed.”

“She’s excited to see us and she’s not bringing pans.” Levi calls, as Pearl shuts herself in the bathroom. The door is closed, but she can still make out his words from behind the door. “And nobody’s gonna make you change.”

“Thank you, Levi. Love you. She’s excited to see us, and she’s not bringing pans,” Pearl repeats, loud enough for him to make out her every word.

They keep saying it to each other.

Strangely, it doesn’t get old.

Levi’s waiting by the window, watching for his mom’s car to pull in the drive outside. The minute he sees it, he’s off the couch, calling, ��She’s here. I’m gonna go meet her.”

He doesn’t care how it looks. Him, taking off out of the cabin at top speed, to help his mom carry in whatever she did bring. With all his nerves about seeing her (and seeing her without Dad) Levi hadn’t quite expected just how badly he did need to see his mom.

Levi’s at her car before she even turns it off.

“Levi!” she calls. “How are you, baby?” she asks, and he very nearly reaches through the window to hug her, but she holds him off long enough to open the door.

Then, he waits for her to stand. And grabs on. “I missed you.”

“Oh, you’ve gotten so tall. And you look happy. Did you and your friends have a good time?”

“Yeah, we’ll tell you all about it. Come in,” he invites, offering an arm. “Oh. Should I grab anything?” he asks, sending a smirk her way.

“Don’t act like you don’t know I got peach cobbler for dessert. It’s in the case on the passenger seat.” Mom smiles back at him.

They get inside the house and Levi drops off the peach cobbler at the table.

“Pearl, this is my mother, Nia Major-West. Mom, this is Pearl.” Levi introduces. The smile on his face big enough to break it.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. West,” Pearl greets, awkwardly, shuffling Cleo’s leash from hand to hand, and finally managing a handshake.

Mom’s mouth drops open as she takes in Pearl. “Oh, please. Call me Nia. You look just like Paris. Both you kids do…” Tears spring to her eyes. “He’d be so happy about this. You know that, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Pearl answers. “So, I’ve heard, from Levi.”

“So, are you better at the stove, or at assembling, Pearl?” Mom asks.

“Oh, I’m good, wherever you put me,” Pearl agrees.

“She’s really good at organizing,” Levi offers.

“Would you mind helping out with assembly, then?” Mom asks. “I’m terrible at it. Not patient. And if Levi does it, he eats all my cheese before it gets on the lasagna.”

“That was one time,” Levi objects, laughing. “I was like, 2. Let it go.”

“What happened?” Pearl asks as Mom gets busy preheating the skillet.

“So, family legend says that once upon a time--” Levi begins.

“--The first time I ever made this lasagna--” Mom interjects.

“Yes, the first time Mom ever made this lasagna. She was putting it together. As you do.” Levi nods.

“Right. As you do,” Pearl confirms.

“And she goes, ‘Here, baby. Hold this for Mommy.’ And she hands me an open bag of cheese. So, of course, she’s cooking and I’m thinking I’m the luckiest toddler in the world, probably, just stuffing my face.”

“Paris is taking pictures…” Mom adds, laughing.

Levi joins her, laughing, too. “And you had no idea--” he gasps.

“None,” Mom’s breathless. “Just turn around and I’m like, ‘Baby, where’s Mommy’s cheese at?’ And what’d you say?”

“I mean, I told her the truth. It was all gone…” Levi manages, still laughing.

“So what did you put on it?” Pearl asks. “You can’t have your lasagna without the proper cheese…”

“Oh, we had cheese. We had all kinds of cheese. So we improvised. Tasted fine.” Mom says, same as she always does.

“So when Rachael Ray said use whatever you have on hand...she meant that…” Pearl glances at Levi. “So what did we go to the store for?”

“Because,” he teases gently. “In order to use what you have on hand, we needed to have stuff on hand.”

“Ah,” Pearl slaps her forehead.

“Just like your Daddy. Needing his recipes. Going to the store to stock up on all y’all’s ingredients.” Mom says, happily.

Though it is kinda tight in the kitchen, Levi kinda loves it. Being close like this. It feels like it used to feel. Not empty. With an extra person in their space it feels even more full. Not like anyone’s missing at all.

The lasagna still tastes great, just how Levi remembers. The peach cobbler’s amazing, and Levi and Pearl share about getting to hang out with Jesus, and Mariana, Dominique and Francesca.

Pearl texts and asks if Jesus would mind if they showed Levi’s mom the picture of all of them together. Jesus says she can, and thanks her for asking.

Mom puts on her glasses and looks at the picture. While Levi points out everybody.

“Now, whose baby is this?” she asks, pointing to Francesca.

“That’s Francesca,” Pearl smiles. “She’s their sister. Much younger, obviously, like Levi is to me.”

“She’s lovely. And these two are the twins,” she says, noting Jesus and Mariana. “And this one here is your friend who you spoke to her dad on the phone this morning,” Mom fills in, pointing out Dominique.

Levi smiles. “Yeah, you got ‘em all.”

“Speaking of pictures,” Mom digs in her purse, pushing her dessert plate and coffee cup further on the table. She finally takes out what she’s been looking for and hands them to Pearl.

Levi scoots in closer. Hears Pearl gasp.

He can see what she does. Four pictures: one of Dad holding newborn baby Pearl, smiling and looking younger than Levi can ever remember him being.

“That’s the day you were born. Said he couldn’t stop holding you. Couldn’t stop staring at his beautiful girl. His Pearl Evangeline.”

Pearl cringes. “My middle name’s so awkward.”

“Dad chose it,” Levi fills in. “He liked Biblical names. But I guess your mom had already chosen your first name. So he convinced her to let him give you your middle name. He told that story all the time.”

Pearl’s mouth drops open. “I didn’t know. I feel so terrible for making cracks about it all these years.”

“Now this one,” Mom points to the next photo on what looks like her first birthday. “Cabbage Patch babies were all the rage, and he searched high and low for one. For hours, probably.”

“But days or weeks, if you asked Dad--” Levi interjects.

“Right, so he found you, little Archibald Frances,” she points to the bald baby doll in a hat.

“I still have that doll. He got it for me?” Pearl asks, incredulous.

“He did, yes,” Mom nods.

“I never knew that,” Pearl manages.

A third picture shows toddler-Pearl, holding The Cat in the Hat right side up. Dad sitting with her in the rocking chair.

“Now, you were reading to him there. Not vice versa.” Mom points out. “Paris wanted me to be sure if I ever got to show you these, to tell you. Two years old, and reading. He couldn’t believe it.”

Levi watches as Pearl slowly flips to the last picture. Pearl with her hair in braids. Kissing Dad on the cheek. “You started school early, he said,” Mom explains. “You just turned four a few months before, but he got you into kindergarten. He was so proud. Your first day…”

“That’s it?” Pearl asks. “I mean...I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. These are amazing. I just...I wish there were more…”

“We all do,” Mom nods. “But we’ve never been sure how many pictures you had with him, and these were all he had with him, when…”

“I understand,” Pearl nods. “Thank you so much.”

“Thank you for letting me come out here and see y’all. I’ve missed my Levi to bits. So quiet without you and Dad around.”

“I know,” he says, looking down, a little regretful.

“But you’re happy. I can see that,” Mom says, looking satisfied to know this. Looking like she’s proud. “And as long as you two have each other, I know I can worry a little less.”

“You should come again, for dinner,” Levi blurts.

“Yes. You should. We could make this a thing. Family dinner?” Pearl tries. “I know we’re not exactly family, but…”

“Oh yes, we are. Levi, tell Pearl. We are exactly family,” Mom says, putting an arm around them both.

“We’re exactly family,” Levi tells Pearl softly and Pearl laughs a little.

Holding the pictures between them like this, it’s almost like Dad’s in on the hug, too.

In fact, Levi can pretty much guarantee it.

#fic: somewhere inside

4 notes · View notes

jjkfire · 7 years ago

Text

You’ve Got Me (Wrapped Around Prequel)

Reader x Tae // College!AU // 10k words

Summary: One frat party, one game and a subsequent unplanned meeting later, comes a thousand feelings you did not ask for.

Genre: Fluff, Smut

A/N: This is a prequel (kind of) to Wrapped Around and is purely Tae based! (even if Jimin is mentioned a few times here and there) so if you’re a pure team Jimin pls don’t read and get upset ok tq! (: Sorry this took like 10 years but !!! had to get this out so I can work on the finale to wrapped around hehe.

“Listen here…” You pause, waiting for the man before you to tell you his name.

“Jimin,” He replies.

“Right, Jimin,” You smile. “I just need to talk to Hoseok. I’m not even going to drink.”

“That’s what they all say,” He scoffs and you let out an annoyed groan because damn it you really weren’t interested in drinking tonight, especially not when you have a 9am lab to attend tomorrow… which was exactly why you were here in the first place.

“If you just want to talk to him, then call him.”

“You think I haven’t tried that??” You grumble while attempting to side step him but he’s quick to stand in your way, his hand held out in front of you.

“5 dollars.”

“I just want to talk to Hoseok for like 1 minute so, hell no, I’m not paying you 5 bucks.”

“Then you’re not stepping inside.”

“Are you even a part of this frat?” You grumble, annoyed.

“Yes…” He murmurs and just by that, you know that he isn’t but you can’t really find it in you to give a shit right now.

“Fuck, you know what? Take it,” You exhale, reaching into your pocket to give him the 5 dollars, pushing past him the moment his grimy hands take it from you.

The smell of beer and sweat fills your nose the instant you take a step into the house and if it were any other night, you wouldn’t be the slightest bit bothered but considering the fact that you are both stone cold sober and infuriated, the foul smell only adds on to your anger.

Within seconds of scanning the living area, you spot your one and only satan spawn of a lab partner, Jung Hoseok and where else would he be other than standing by the beer pong table. Okay, it’s not like you hate him, he’s truly a great person, nice and fun to hang out with but good god, he had to be the worst lab partner on the entire earth. This guy just never came prepared, sometimes missing his lab goggles, always missing his pre-lab report which by the way is the only reason he’s ever early to lab because he’ll just copy it off from you. The both of you are almost always the last pair to leave because he never understands what he’s doing which is probably due to the fact that he’s usually hungover. As you work on the post lab report, you wonder why of all people you could’ve been paired up with, you were paired up with him.

As much as you ‘hate’ him though, he’s the reason you have parties to attend on the weekends, the reason you met your best friend Solji and if it weren’t for the fact that he was the nicest, kindest boy you’ve ever met, you would’ve told on him to your TA, ages ago. You’ve carried his ass through the first two months of college now but tomorrow’s lab is dubbed the hardest lab of the semester and you want to make sure his ass isn’t going to be half dead tomorrow.

“Hoseok, you piece of shit. I told you no drinking tonight,” You groan, grabbing the red solo cup out of his hand.

“Y/N! You said you weren’t going to come,” He smiles. “I’m glad you’re here. Let’s get you a drink!”

“No drinks, asshole! You heard what our TA said,” You grumble. “It’s not called the lab from hell for nothing.”

“Just one drink.”

“Fuck no!” You exhale, pulling your hand out of his hold. “Did you at least read the procedure for tomorrow?”

“No…”

“Hoseok, please,” You beg. “Just once, just this one time. Please, please read it.”

“I—”

“Hoseok, come on dude, let’s play! I finally got Hyeri here to agree!” You hear a boy say from the other end of the beer pong table and before Hoseok can take a single step, you’re standing in his way.

“No, Hoseok. If you’re even thinking of playing, I’m going to request for a partner change.”

The smile on his face immediately fades and he stands rooted in his spot.

“I can’t play Tae, not tonight,” He shouts out and you smile because wow, you didn’t know it’d be that easy to get him to listen. “But, my friend here is down to play if you are.”

Wait, what?

“Uhh, no I’m not,” You laugh. “I said I’m not drinking tonight.”

“And you won’t be, if you play it right.”

“It’s beer pong Hoseok,” You scoff. “You’re going to have to drink at some point.”

“No, no. This is fear pong,” He grins, an almost evil aura radiating from his smile.

“The fuck’s that?”

“Well, there’s 6 cups and there’s 3 dare cups and 3 drink cups each. For the dare cups, you can either choose to do them or drink the cup instead as a punishment. So as long as you do all the dares, you don’t have to drink anything because Jimin here’s going to be your designated drinker for the three drink cups—“

“Wait, why am I being dragged into this?” Jimin questions but Hoseok ignores him, shooing him away with a wave of a hand.

“—but if you skip a dare…”

“Yeah, no, it’s gonna be a hard pass for me,” You shake your head.

“I’ll actually do my pre-lab this time and work on the post-lab with you if you play.”

What’s that? A miracle? Sure sounded like one.

“You promise?”

“Yes.”

You take a second to ponder the offer, weighing your choices heavily.

“And you get money if you win. Half of whatever Jimin collected from the front.”

That’s it. That’s what seals the deal because fuck that’s the guy who made you pay the damn 5 dollars and you’ll be damned if you leave here without getting it back.

“Alright, we’re on.”

The boy standing across you seems to be a crowd favourite because everyone’s cheering him on. Taehyung, you think is his name and as you watch the coin flip in the air, you have a feeling deep in the pit of your stomach that this is a bad idea.

Perhaps it’s your fault for agreeing to play this game, for not asking what the dares were going to be like but really what could you have expected from a frat house? You lose the coin toss and Taehyung gets the first throw which lands right smack in the cup at the top of the pyramid. Honestly, you’re not too surprised… the boys here would probably list down professional beer pong player on their resume if they could.

You grab the cue card from beneath the cup and you glare at Hoseok. This bitch. He knew these were the kind of dares that are written on these cards and he didn’t tell you.

“Read it out loud,” Taehyung says and you let out a heavy sigh.

“Let your opponent spank you twice.”

The smile on Taehyung’s face tells you he’s more than excited to and although the idea of being publicly spanked in front of a room of strangers is not really something you want to try out on a Thursday night, you’ve got a lab report on the line here. Do it for the GPA, do it for the GPA, is all you can say to yourself.

From the back of the room, you see something akin to a paddle being passed forward and then a riding crop and for a second your heart stops beating.

“W-wha—”

“What fun is it if it’s just my hand?” Taehyung smirks.

“No way, wait! No this is… no.”

“If you’re not up to it, then drink,” Hoseok grins and you glare at him because you’re this close to knocking him out with a punch.

“Fuck, fine,” You relent, agreeing to the dare. “Make it quick,” You exhale because really what was 5 seconds of embarrassment to you if you’d actually get help on the lab report this time.

Though Taehyung exudes an aura that screams fuckboy, you’re thoroughly surprised when he still stops to ask if you’re really okay with it and when you say you are, he of course asks if he could touch your ass to which you allow with a shrug of your shoulders because he was already going to spank you anyway. Honestly, what could be worse than this?

You can literally feel Taehyung buzzing with excitement behind you as you place your hands on the table, bending forward, your behind on full display for him and honestly speaking, you fully regret not walking away when that Jimin guy asked you to pay him $5 for entry. Was Hoseok really going to be that much help anyway? Is your question but all of that fades when you feel Taehyung’s hand on your ass.

“Gotta warm it up first, don’t I?” He simpers, his hand calmly stroking the curve of your ass and at that, an involuntary shiver runs up your spine.

“You ready babe?”

He doesn’t even let you answer his question as his hand comes down hard onto your flesh and you try your hardest to keep your expression blank, lips pursed, not wanting anyone to know that maybe, just maybe, you were enjoying this.

“Are we feeling the paddle or the riding crop?” He questions and though neither looked particularly enticing to you, you choose the riding crop.

You turn back to see Taehyung wielding the paddle instead and he sends you a little wink as he lines up his next hit. Of course he picks the opposite of what you had went for, you sigh. Perhaps you should be feeling fear, watching him hold a wooden paddle that looked like it could knock someone out but truth be told, you feel excitement bubbling within you.

You shut your eyes, bracing yourself for impact but it never comes and just when you turn back to ask what was taking him so long, you feel a hard smack, a gasp leaving your lips as you register what had just happened. Taehyung tries not to laugh but your shocked expression only makes it harder and soon enough you start laughing too.

You remove your hands from the table, taking the time to smooth your palm over your bottom that was still tingling.

“I went a little too hard, didn’t I?”

“Maybe just a little,” You laugh.

“I’m uhh Taehyung by the way,” He smiles sheepishly. “Thought it’d only be appropriate to introduce myself after our spank session.”

“It’s the best way to meet someone, isn’t it?” You grin. “I’m Y/N.”

“Okay, less talking, more fear pong!” Hoseok shouts before dragging you away back to your end of the table.

You hadn’t even made it back yet but you could already hear the ball landing into another one of the cups, the crowd chanting his name and it only sounds like it’s going to be an awfully long night for you.

“Strip your opponent down to his underwear using only your teeth,” You mumble, reading the dare written on the card and okay, you think maybe one drink for the sake of your dignity would be alright. After all, what’s a cup of beer?

“Thinking of drinking?” Taehyung calls out.

You look down into the contents of the drink only to find it isn’t the familiar fizzy yellow liquid but instead a dark red concoction.

“What’s in this?”

“Gin, Vodka, Tequila—”

“So everything?”

“Basically.”

You shake your head at that knowing full well that Hoseok had a hand in making whatever this hell jungle juice is.

You hold the cup in your hand and the cue card in your other, unsure of what to do.

Do it! Do it! You hear the crowd chant but you don’t know which one they mean.

“I’ll do the dare,” You sigh, settling the cup off to the side and Taehyung giddily skips to the middle, having no qualms about being stripped down to his briefs.

“At least buy me dinner first before trying to get me naked,” Taehyung laughs as you instruct him to lift up his hands.

“Shut up,” You grumble but there’s a light laugh at the end of your warning.

You assume this is hilarious to everyone else who was watching the two of you awkwardly spin around the room, trying to get Taehyung’s t-shirt off without the use of your hands and though you try not to laugh, you find the whole situation so odd that there’s no other way to cope than to laugh. After the third try, you finally get his shirt off and at this point, you’re already exhausted.

“You’re not giving up, are you?” Hoseok asks, his phone in your face and of course, of course he’s recording everything.

You only shove a middle finger in his direction, pushing him away.

Awkwardly, you sink to your knees, your mouth inches away from where the button of his jeans was. At this moment in time, you decide that you absolutely hate fear pong.

“Nervous?” Taehyung smirks, looking down at you. “Or are you thinking about something else?” He lifts his eyebrows, a devious smile on his lips.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” You sigh.

With that, you get to work, trying your hardest to unbutton his pants with only your teeth however the hoots from around the room only make you feel like shrinking away. But, the faster you get this done, the faster you’ll be out of this house and warm under your sheets and that thought alone gives you enough strength to drown out the noises that the crowd is making.

To your surprise, you unbutton his jeans with ease on the second try, leaving Taehyung speechless momentarily, only momentarily though because he always seemed to have a comment for everything.

“Had a lot of practice, have you?”

“Maybe,” You shrug, before moving to unzip him and you stare up at him as you do so, sending him a wink just as you reach the end because hey, you might as well have fun while you were at it, right? Taehyung swears he could feel his blood rush to exactly one place he didn’t want it to at this very moment and he curses under his breath, wishing more than anything that it was just you and him that was in this room. You begin to tug his pants down towards the floor with your teeth and Taehyung thinks of anything gross or unappealing to quell his almost boner.

Calmly, you saunter your way back to your end of the table, waiting for Taehyung to get back to his side and get the show on the road.

“Having a little problem over there, Tae?” Hoseok question with a lift of his eyebrows and you can hear the people around the room tease him, Taehyung’s cheeks now beginning to turn bright red. You should feel bad, you really should but hey he had his share of embarrassing you too.

Maybe it was a mistake to laugh at him and tease him because he lands his next shot with ease and your mind goes blank as you stare at the cue card in your hand.

“Make out with your opponent for 20 seconds.”

There are cheers around the room, the game finally getting interesting and you glance down at the cup in front of you. Would you still be standing after one drink? Was it a risk you were willing to take?

“Oh come on,” Tae leers. “You’ve already got me almost fully naked.”

“Fine, fine,” You mumble, meeting him once again by the middle of the table. You hope to god he misses his next shot because the dares only seem to get worse and worse.

Hoseok can already see the gears turning in your mind and he knows what you’re going to do, stand there like a statue and only allow Tae small pecks but no, he’s having none of that.

“It’s going to have to be a full make-out session,” Hoseok announces. “We see any of that lame shit and the both of you have to down one of the cups and try again.”

“Well then,” Taehyung grins. “How about we don’t try at all so we can have a round two?”

“In your dreams,” You scoff. “Unless... you’re trying to hide the fact that you’re a bad kisser.”

“Babe, I’m the best kisser in this room,” He smirks before letting his hands cup your cheeks, his lips already on yours before you can think of a witty comment.

You don’t want to admit it but heck, Taehyung is one hell of a kisser. His lips are soft and plushy and boy does he know the right balance between give and take because he leans in closer deepening the kiss and then he’s pulling back slightly, forcing you to move forward, to rest closer against him. You can feel him smirk against your lips before his tongue swipes at them begging for you to part them and as much as your mind tells you not to, you do anyway. You’re already in this deep, you sigh. Might as well give the crowd a show, no? Your fingers tug at his hair as his tongue just begins to—

“Time’s up!” Hoseok shouts and you pull away instantly, still in quite a daze but you shake it off, walking back to your side of the table. Taehyung seems to be even more of a daze than you, his pupils blown wide with lust, his hair a complete mess, courtesy of you and as he steps up to take his shot, you silently pray that he misses it.

There’s a light clink! as the ball hits the edge of a cup, bouncing off the table and you let out a scream of delight, punching a fist in the air.

“Guess I was that good of a kisser huh?” You laugh, looking at Taehyung who was running his hand through his hair in disappointment.

Taehyung weirdly has no witty reply to your comment, only passing you the cup that held the rest of the ping-pong balls.

You stand there, lining up your shot, to which cup you’re not sure but you’re hoping it lands in at least one of them.

The crowd cheers, the ball landing in one of the 6 cups and when Taehyung lifts the cup to see the cue card say DRINK!, in all capital letters, he doesn’t hesitate to down the drink, his face scrunching up in disgust as the alcohol burns his throat.

The next cup you land, is another drink cup and honestly, you’re glad because this means if you don’t make the shot after this, you’re thinking he’s going to have a hard time landing a shot in the other three remaining cups you have just by the way he puts a hand on the table to stop himself from swaying. You wonder how he managed to the 3 dare cups when he was the one making the shots. You sure would’ve loved to see Jimin having to drink for you.

The liquid in the cup sloshes from side to side as you make yet another shot and Taehyung lifts the cup, finding that the cue card finally says DARE! He’s not sure if he should be happy or—

Happy, oh heck yeah he’s happy because—

“Let your opponent lick whipped cream off of you,” Taehyung reads out and he already has a smirk on. “I don’t mind that,” He smiles.

“What?”

“So there’s chest, tummy or thighs. Take your pick.”

“Hold on. This isn’t fair… it’s like a dare for me too!”

“Don’t question fear pong. If you say no, then you have to drink my drink for me.”

“Fine,” You grunt. “I’ll do tummy.”

“Aww, are you sure you’re not more of a thigh girl?”

You roll your eyes at him, not even bothering to reply to his question.

Hoseok in your opinion is a little too excited about the whole situation, spreading more than enough whipped cream over Taehyung’s middle, making sure it trailed all the way down to the waistband of his boxers, even threatening to go down further. With a sigh, you bend down to lick it all off and you imagine this would be a lot less awkward if there weren’t about 50 people gathered around you, all watching intently.

“You missed a spot,” He points to the area just above his boxers, the spot you had purposely avoided.

With a huff, you quickly lick off the remainder and Taehyung has to hold his breath, trying hard not to picture you moving down further.

“Happy?”

“Very,” He smirks before returning to his side of the table, his steps unsteady as the alcohol has clearly hit him already.

You want nothing more than for this game to end quickly so the moment he stands behind the cups, you steady your hand for another throw, the crowd cheering as the ball lands in yet another one of the red cups.

“Let your opponent wax your armpit hair off,” He reads and by the way his voice grows small, you can already tell you’re going to enjoy this one. Maybe, fear pong wasn’t that bad after all.

“Aren’t you a little too excited for this?” He asks as you warm up the wax strip between your hands.

“Maybe,” You shrug. “Don’t worry, it’s only going to hurt… a lot,” You smile wickedly and he gulps, his face crumpling in fear.

There’s murmurings around the room as you stand before the already shirtless Taehyung, his hand lifted above his head and you tear the strip apart, placing it neatly over his underarm. You don’t even bother to ask him if he was ready before you pull the strip downward, ripping all of his hair clean from his armpit. There’s a loud scream, one Taehyung tries to muffle with his other hand but it’s no use. Everyone in the room bursts into laughter, many phones already out to record the whole ordeal. You wave the second wax strip in front of him and he begs you for mercy. You look to Hoseok and he gives you a shake of the head, which meant sorry, no mercy and you almost laugh at the whimper that escapes Taehyung’s throat when you smooth the wax strip on his other under arm.

Taehyung returns to his spot with an obvious frown, pressing a few touches to his sticky underarms.

“Should’ve drank,” He grumbles and in the time he is able to get that sentence out, he hears the ball hit the side of the cup and he’s filled with hope, but there’s a splash sound that accompanies it right after. Damn it. With a sigh, he picks up the cup, unsure if he enjoyed seeing the word DARE! anymore but as he reads the cue card, he thinks yeah, he does like seeing the four lettered word.

“Give your opponent a lap dance for a minute,” He smirks. “I mean I’m already in my underwear so I might as well,” He shrugs.

You’re blushing wildly as you are forced to sit in a chair in the middle of the room. Hoseok, ever the excited boy puts on Ginuwine’s Pony on the speakers. In your mind, you have Channing Tatum’s Magic Mike routine playing and you freeze because if Taehyung is going to do anything similar, you’re not sure if you’re going to be able to leave this chair, still breathing.

Taehyung stands a few steps away from you, prowling over to you before he stops in front of the chair, dropping down to grind the floor, maintaining eye contact with you as he did so, his bottom lip between his teeth and the crowd gathered around screams, cheering him on. You have your lips pursed, eyes trained on him, something Hoseok had said was a requirement but you think it’s hardly a challenge to keep your eyes on him, especially when he moved like that.

Taehyung stands up, rolling his body sensuously to the music as he steps closer towards you, his legs now on either side of the chair as he hovers above you, his tongue poking out to run over his lips. You swallow nervously, unable to hide the shy smile on your face, your hands placed by your side, forming tight fists as you watch him grind and thrust against you, his moves in sync with the beat. He smirks down at you, grabbing one of your hands, forcing your fist open before he places your hand on his chest, trailing it salaciously up and down, winking at you as he did so. You can’t help but laugh at the situation you’re in, it’s the only way you can cope with the embarrassment and Taehyung takes the way you ease up as a good sign. He places your hands on his hips as he grinds down on your lap, his hands cupping your heated cheeks. He wants nothing more than to taste your lips again, especially now that you’re all shy and giggly, as if mere minutes ago you hadn’t teased him after dragging his zipper down with your teeth. He wants to grind on you until you beg for more, silence your needy whines with kisses as he slips his hand down past the band of your pants to find you drip—

“That’s a minute! Time’s up!”

You’re still laughing as you slide the chair back, getting up to make your way back to the table. Taehyung take his spot on the other side, feeling rather light headed but he’s pretty sure it didn’t have to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he has consumed tonight.

Cheers ring around the room as you manage to land the ball in the final cup and Taehyung finds the cup being shoved in his hand as the room chants for him to down the drink, which he does with no qualms. It’s his first loss at fear pong or even beer pong for that matter ever since the beginning of the semester. Hoseok has his head in his hands, unable to believe that you had been able to make the shot. He had thought full well that like always, Taehyung would demolish his opponent but here he was watching as one of the frat members takes a polaroid picture of you, your face making it onto the frat’s acclaimed wall of fame of which contained a dozen or so pictures of Taehyung, the former reigning champion of fear pong.

“You better come prepared or I’m going to wring your neck,” You warn, waving the huge wad of cash Hoseok had just given you. He nods, reassuring you that he’s going to be the best lab partner you’ve ever seen and with that, you’re out the door, counting each dollar all the way home.

“You’re taking the loss pretty hard,” Hoseok laughs, patting Taehyung on the back to bring him out of his daze. “Thanks to you, I actually have to know what I’m doing in lab tomorrow.”

Taehyung only lets out a light laugh, nodding before he makes his way to the kitchen to grab himself a glass of water. He sits on the counter swinging his legs as he twists the cup in hand. To be honest, he wasn’t feeling down about losing, au contraire, he doesn’t feel the slightest bit of regret playing that match against you. It’s the fact that you remind him of her, remind him of Mina that has his mind running infinite loops. He thought he had gotten rid of her and all feelings tied to her but if how he spends his weekends chasing skirts was any indication, he’d say he was merely trying to fill the massive void he felt in his chest.

It’s fine, he reasons. He doubts he’ll see you again because that’s just how college is. You could go all 4 years without meeting the same person you had seen in your first few months on campus.

College.

It’s everything Taehyung had expected with the frat parties and binge drinking and yet it’s also everything he hadn’t expected.

If you think high school is hard, just wait until you get to college.

Taehyung had heard that very line being repeated to him close to a hundred times while he was in school and yet he thinks no matter how many times he has heard it wouldn’t have prepared him for just how hard it would be. See, everyone always describes the academic rigour, the unreasonable professors and the struggles of balancing one’s social and academic life, but no one talks about how going to college could make you feel like you were wrong about yourself your whole life.

Taehyung for the most part didn’t struggle in high school. In fact, he cruised through it while doing the bare minimum. He was smart but lazy and abhorrently proud of the fact that he could get the grades while putting in very little work. The fact that he scored high nineties baffled everyone because even with the fact that he always half-assed everything, he always made sure he was right where he wanted to be, grades-wise. He always did just enough.

Enough.

It would come to be a word Taehyung hates when he gets to college because no matter how hard he tried, he was never good enough which was an entirely foreign concept to him.

They tell you that you have to hit the ground running when you get to college because freshmen year, seeing as it is most probably the easiest year, is where you build your GPA up and he followed that advice to the tee. He stayed on top of his homework, never missed a quiz, went to every lecture, all of which was more than he ever did in high school and yet after the first wave of midterms, he found himself just barely hitting the average mark. He works harder the next time around, putting in twice maybe even three times the amount of work his peers put in and again he finds himself at the class average. Perhaps to some, hitting that average mark is enough but for someone who was the best without even trying, he felt his self-esteem corrode with every exam.

Taehyung had never felt so lost his entire life because it was like everyone around him had it figured out, had their career paths planned, their summer internships thought out but here he was, barely scraping through. He lacked ambition, is what his teachers back home would say about him when he was still in high school and he didn’t think that was much of a problem until he got to college and realized it seemed like everyone knew what they were doing, everyone except him.

Despite the boxy smile Taehyung puts on for everyone, he was miserable at best. He attends the parties Hoseok and Jimin invite him out to just so he could forget the fact that he felt like he wasn’t quite cut out for college. He’s tried once or twice to voice out how he was feeling but the boys only return with, ‘You’re fine, some of us are barely passing here’ which he understands is the truth but… he can’t help but feel like his intelligence was what had defined him in high school and now here in college, he wasn’t smart, in fact he wasn’t even average apparently. He just felt that his intelligence was part of his identity and if he wasn’t smart then who was he really?

It’s the ever incessant thoughts swimming in his head that forces him to take walks in the middle of the night to the end of campus where the land stretches out into the lake like a peninsula. He walks to the end in complete darkness, not even bothering to shine a light ahead of him because by now he’s memorized the route. It’s dark and eerily quiet but Taehyung enjoys the silence, feels like it’s a breath of fresh air.

When he reaches the clearing at the tip, he sees the soft city lights glow in the distance across the lake. He takes a seat by the edge of the cement path, his feet swinging below him as he enjoys the sound of the water lapping against the rocks beneath him. The skies are clear this time, thankfully and he looks up to admire the twinkling stars. It is at this exact spot at 12 am almost every other day that Taehyung finds himself here. Sometimes, he sits in silence and other times, after a particularly hard day, he sits there and bawls his eyes out until he’s run out of tears. It’s his form of therapy, letting out his pent upped emotions all at once before he returns to his room to put on a mask and start the day over. It’s the only time he feels he’s ever truly alone, sitting here with tears streaming down his face and usually he is but tonight, he feels a soft tap on his shoulder and then a soft pack of tissues being waved in front of his face. A flash of recognition runs across his features as he peers up to see you offering him a meek smile.

“Well, well. What is the former reining fear pong champion doing out here when it’s prime party time on a Friday night?”

“I could ask you the same thing, number one party girl,” Taehyung snickers, calling you by Hoseok’s nickname for you as he accepts the tissue, wiping away the last of his tears.

“Well uhh my friends are supposed to be having a bonfire somewhere but I got lost,” You laugh. “Snacks?” You ask handing him a packet of open chips.

“Bonfire? That’s by the park… like 10 minutes back. You took the wrong turning.”

“Ah, so that’s what they were trying to say…” You mumble to yourself, recalling how your friends tried telling you through slurred words that you were meant to take a different path but it was hard to decipher their drunken murmuring when you’re trying to navigate the dark forest with your hands full with snacks and serviettes and only your phone’s torch to light the way... until of course your phone died on you. Between the shivers that ran up your spine every time you heard the crunching of leaves in the far off distance and the fact that you were almost certain you had just felt something touch you, you decided to keep walking forward, hopeful that the path would’ve led you to something, and it lead you to something alright.

You let out a sigh before taking a seat next to Taehyung, trying to hide the fact that his crying almost had you believing that you were in the middle of a horror movie. It was only when you spotted his name on the back of his shirt, an old high school jersey probably, that you let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh well,” You shrug, placing down the rest of your snacks next to you. “This place has a nice view of town,” You point towards the lights in the distance. “And the stars look so much brighter here,” You murmur as you munch on the chips. “Of course… unless you want to uhh be left alone, I can just—”

“No, no, it’s fine… You can stay,” He smiles. “Because if you leave then you’ll take the chips with you, which means…”

“Nice to know you prefer chips over my company,” You laugh, grabbing a handful from the packet and Taehyung laughs in return, reassuring you that it was just a joke.

“So, is this your secret spot or something?”

“Something like that,” He murmurs. “Just a place I go to get away from it all.”

You nod at that, pressing your palms flat across the cool cement surface, leaning back so you could look at the stars. Sometimes you wonder why you don’t take the time to appreciate a clear night like this, that you’re so busy worrying about a dozen things that wouldn’t matter in a few days’ time when you could be having a moment like this, content and at peace as you admire the simple things. It’s in the presence of a vast clear night sky that you realize how large the Universe is, that in some way, you’re almost insignificant… not in a bad way but more of in a way that you don’t understand why your mind is always stuck on one track, why you don’t allow yourself to make mistakes, why you don’t stop to enjoy life for all that it is. It’s not something you don’t voice out often because maybe people will tell you you’re crazy when you say you want to throw caution to the wind and just let life take you anywhere.

“When you look at the stars, do you… do you ever wonder what our purpose is? Like why we try so hard when in reality, you and I and everyone for that matter are just tiny specks of dust floating in the Universe… as in that in the grand scheme of things, everything that we stress ourselves over, doesn’t really matter.”

Taehyung looks over at you with his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth half opened, as if he was at a loss for words and you throw your head back laughing.

“Don’t worry, that was just me you know… thinking out loud. You don’t really have to have an answer for it.”

Taehyung doesn’t have an answer to your question because in fact, that was the same question he had in his mind when he looked out to the stars. It’s almost like a paradox because star-gazing made him feel calm and yet at the end, anxious too. It reminded him of just how small he was, how he feels he’s never going to navigate his way through the murky waters of life.

“When I look at the stars, I feel lost,” He murmurs.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” You scoff.

“Isn’t it?”

“Not necessarily… I feel like being lost gives you the chance to wander around, to try new things while everyone else, like me, is stuck in some mechanical, rigid schedule,” You sigh. “There’s a perk in being lost and that’s being free.”

“But that’s the thing,” He sighs. “I get that I am free, free to roam, to wander but it’s like everyone else is moving forward and I’m stuck in limbo, just floating endlessly.”

“I guess the grass is always greener on the other side isn’t it?” You laugh, smiling at him. If anything, you wanted that freedom, you wanted to enjoy being lost but you’re set on a path, one your parents had inherently picked for you. “You know, sometimes I think we’re all just so stuck on thinking about our future that we forget to enjoy the present.”

“Do you think when we’re both 70 and all wrinkly, we’d be laughing about the things we’re worrying about now?”

“Probably,” You smile. “But is that going to stop either of us from worrying about it?”

“Probably not,” You both say in unison, before breaking out in laughter as the two of you shake your heads at each other.

There isn’t a way to put into words the atmosphere between the both of you but it was like an acknowledgement of each other’s suffering and in some odd way, it was comforting to know you weren’t alone in your struggle and neither was he in his. It’s almost like both you and him were lost in your own separate ways, him on where he was going and you on why you were going the way you were going but in any case, both of you were equally just as lost. Perhaps that was the beauty in it all, that two lost souls had found solace in each other.

Taehyung doesn’t know why he didn’t ask for your number on that night, it’s usually the first thing he does whenever he meets a girl he likes but it’s almost as if he had forgotten everything when he was with you. He forgot his practiced pick-up lines, his sleazy smirk because well, he didn’t need them. That night was just you and him discussing existentialism, purpose and just what the hell the two of you were doing in college anyway. The conversation bore no definite answers but it felt good to just talk about it for once, for him to not have to pretend like he had his shit together.

It turns out, he doesn’t really need your number though because he sees you strolling into the frat house the very next Friday evening, sauntering across the room to stand next to him

“No star-gazing while sobbing tonight?” You ask teasingly and Taehyung scowls.

“And what about you? Not going to give out life advice that you can’t seem to follow yourself tonight?”

“Touché,” You laugh. “I mean I was thinking of having more of a like drink my problems away and pretend they don’t exist kind of night.”

“Funny, me too,” Taehyung smiles, leading you towards the punch bowl that held the jungle juice that Hoseok had a hand in concocting… which meant it had at least probably 70% alcohol… which would lead to 100% regret.

By the time you and Taehyung find yourselves in one of the rooms in the frat that wasn’t already occupied, it was clear that neither of you were sober. You smash your lips against his in a rush, the entire make-out session a hot, giant mess. It’s not long before your clothes are lost somewhere on the floor and he is hurriedly ridding himself of his own shirt too.

You don’t attempt to keep the volume at a minimum and neither does he as he thrusts deep into you, complete euphoria taking over you as you feel the knot at the bottom of your stomach tightening. All you hear is your pulse in your ear and the occasional whispers as Taehyung brings you to your high. The moans slip out of your mouth against your own will and your thighs tremble, the tension you feel near the pit of your abdomen threatening to snap. There’s a thrust or two, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin as his pelvis meets your ass and that’s when you reach your peak, your walls squeezing around his member as you let out a long moan. He picks up speed, his pace relentless as he chases his high and it doesn’t take long before you feel his length twitching inside of you, his drawn out growls dying off as he comes to a stop.

“Fuck, babe, you’re amazing.” Is the only thing you clearly remember him saying from the night.

That one night leads to another, and another, and another because somehow it’s like the both of you find each other at whatever party it was, almost as if you gravitated towards each other like magnets. Taehyung doesn’t say anything about the situation, afraid that you’d high tail it and leave him if he were to mention it but one fateful day, at a party when it’s way too early into the night, you utter out a preposition that has his head spinning.

“You and me, friends with benefits… How about it?”

It doesn’t even take a second for him to nod his head and say yes. With that, you drag him upstairs to an empty room and the whole time Taehyung spends undressing you, caressing you, fucking you, he can’t help but think it’s nothing but a dream. A fucking good dream.

“No strings attached, okay?” Is the main takeaway for the night and in that moment, Taehyung nods at the sentence agreeing, as if it had been obvious, that it didn’t have to be said but little did he know that the very same sentence would only cause him to feel pain, pain, pain in the months to come.

Though Taehyung rather enjoyed the benefits part of the relationship, he also enjoyed the friends part. He always looked forward to the almost 2 hour lunches you’d have with him because you had nothing else to do as you waited for your next class or the casual coffee dates the two of you would have after a tiring week or his personal favourite, when you would come over to stream a movie or two and you would sit on his lap even if there was space on the rest of the couch. Of course, you never really came over just to watch a movie but he rather liked it when you would let his hands rest in your lap, or when you let him lace his fingers between yours and place soft kisses on your shoulder and neck.

More than that though is how much he’s learnt about you and you about him in a span of just over a month or two. It’s during the coffee shop hangouts wherein both of you are supposed to study, keyword supposed or the unreasonably long lunches you two have is when he learns about your family, your childhood, the ins and outs of your life and you the same with him. It’s when the two of you are lying next to each other slightly sweaty and naked under the sheets that you both find it easy to talk about your deepest fears, your hopes and dreams. You were his confidant, his happy pill and everything in between. Of course he’s always had Hoseok and Jimin and he knows he can tell them everything but he doesn’t… he hesitates with them because he’s known them for so long and they know his family so personally that there’s just some things he feels is better kept private. With you, it’s different. It’s like everything flows out of him without him even knowing and he knows he’s in a pickle when winter break comes around and he spends every single day, thinking about you. You had been clear from the start, no strings attached, no feelings involved. You slipped the sentiment here and there every so often and he’s well aware of it but he can’t seem to quell the growing feelings he has for you. If you didn’t know… it wouldn’t hurt you right? It would be a secret between him and himself.

When the second semester began, he was more than happy to see you and you, him. As usual, the two of you continued with the odd arrangement of being friends with benefits but with a touch of more than just sex. It was almost as if the two of you were a couple in private, but neither wanted to admit it, well it was just you who didn’t want to and Taehyung was just afraid to say anything. He didn’t mind the fact that there wasn’t a label on it because as long as he got to spend time with you, hold you in his arms, all was good. Taehyung in your opinion was the kindest soul you had ever met and simply being around him lifted your spirits. He remembered everything and you mean absolutely everything. That embarrassing story you told him one time while you were sleepy and out of it? About how you got stuck in a toilet in the middle of an exam back in middle school? Remembers it. The fact that you had pointed at a big bouquet of roses during a movie scene and talked about how nice it would be to get one someday? Remembers it. Any detail whether you said it in passing or with full confidence, he remembers. Your favourite colour, what your parents do, your favourite pair of underwear, he remembers. He doesn’t do it to impress you, doesn’t give you your favourite cookie every so often to gain brownie points in your books. He does it simply because that’s just the person he is and the fact that he does it makes you feel so wanted, so appreciated like there was someone who thought all these lame facts about you was worth remembering. Sometimes you’re surprised by just what he remembers, one incident in particular sticks out for you.

It had been the busiest time for you in the semester, right in the middle of consecutive due dates when you get a call from your mother, her excited voice crackling through the speaker of your phone as she tells you that she received a bouquet for her birthday under your name except you hadn’t sent one. It takes a second or two for it to register that Taehyung had done it for you, remembered that you had told him you wanted to do something nice for your mother for her birthday and this had been weeks ago. He had known that you’d be too busy to remember to eat let alone send a gift to your mother. You simply didn’t deserve a friend like him.

The first quarter of the semester came and went and everything had been just like the previous semester. Then, he noticed you beginning to put some distance between you and him. The lunches grew shorter, the weekly coffee dates no longer happened and sometimes you wouldn’t spend nights at his place anymore. Still, Taehyung didn’t say anything because well, what was he to say? The two of you were only, in official terms, friends with benefits.

At parties, usually you would be around Taehyung and Hoseok but now he finds you shimmying your way across the room to talk to others, not that anything was wrong with that but then he’ll turn and find you grinding on some guy. Listen, there was nothing wrong with that either because you were free to do whatever you wanted but minutes later, he’ll find you completely missing. He thought maybe you’d gone home without him but then he’ll see you over an hour later making your way down the stairs, the man behind you with his hair in a mess, his shirt untucked and it’s then that he knows that something’s wrong… with him and not you.

You were free to sleep with whoever you wanted and him with whomever he wanted but the problem is he didn’t want anyone but you. He could literally feel jealousy bubble within him as he saw you jump from one guy to the next because he wanted to know what they had that he didn’t. It’s not like that, you had told him when he managed to find the courage to ask you when the two of you were lying in his bed, his chest still heaving after pulling out from you mere minutes ago. You never tell him the reason why you slept with all those other men, and you didn’t really have to tell him, he understands that but he couldn’t help but feel as if there was an underlying reason as to why you did.

Taehyung knows you avoid any talk about emotion like the plague, which frankly he hates. That’s not saying though that you don’t open up to him, you do but those moments are few and far in between. There have been a handful of times where you sit in complete silence next to him and he knows that you’re struggling internally, that there’s something on your mind. It could be 2pm on a Saturday when you come over to watch a movie and it’s like you’re on a different planet or when you’re in his bed at 11pm on a Wednesday, letting out little sighs as you mulled things over in your head and he would simply say his classic line; “Let’s go to our place.”

You’re not sure when his place became ‘our’ place but you’re glad anyway. The walk there is quiet and you never really say anything but when you get to the end of the cement path, sometimes you say whatever it is that’s on your mind and sometimes you don’t say anything and all you do is cry. Either way, you finally get to rid yourself of the burden sitting on your chest and that’s all Taehyung wants. Between the two of you, it’s obvious that Taehyung is more of a talker. He’s vocal about what he feels is bringing him down that day, or whatever has been on in his mind (basically everything except his feelings for you) and you’re an amazing listener, probably the only person he’s ever felt comfortable enough to divulge his worries to and sometimes he feels horrible for laying it all on you without getting to hear anything from your side so, to see you be emotional in front of him, to be able to comfort you, he feels glad that he too can be a rock for you.

Speaking to you about romantic emotions though, especially ones between you and him always lead him nowhere. You slip in things like calling him a perfect boyfriend but then clam up when he says anything remotely intimate or romantic. You lead him round and round in circles as if to say come closer, but not too close which he can do except you never say it with words, never make things clear and he ends up having to play guess and check all by himself. It’s tiring to say the least but he hasn’t quite figured out a better approach. Perhaps he should give up altogether is what he decides.

“Uhh, I think we have to stop this thing that we have…”

It’s like he had dropped a damn bomb right onto you ever so casually and your mind is spinning so hard that you struggle to hear the rest of his explanation.

“It’s just… Jessica and I are getting kinda serious so we have to stop.”

Taehyung is almost waiting for you to fight back, to say something about how he thinks you feel for him but all you say is,

“Okay.”

If Taehyung was being honest, he wouldn’t say he really had feelings for her. He liked her sure, thought she was hot and her personality was well, alright but he didn’t like her, like her… at least not in the way he liked you. But, she was different from you, said whatever was on her mind, was clear about what she wanted and maybe that’s what Taehyung needed because he was completely burnt out from always trying to decipher what your true feelings were. It was a breath of fresh air to have a girl that just said what she wanted.

He funneled all his attention to Jessica because clearly, you were fine without him, always having some other guy next to you or at least he thinks so. He hasn’t seen you at a party for a while but that’s mainly because his face is buried between Jessica’s legs in one of the rooms of the frat house. He’s not really sure what he’s doing, stringing Jessica along like that but he can’t help himself, always needing the reassurance that he was loved, that he was enough. It’s stupid because he knows that he is and maybe it’s all goddamn Mina’s fault for messing him up so bad.

Mina which he had grown up with in the same dainty little town had been the first girl he’s ever loved and yes sure, love is a strong word but he really did think that he loved her. She was sweet, funny and whenever he saw her, it was like one of those classic movie moments where there’s light shining behind her and everything’s moving in slow motion. Mina was pretty and she knew it. She was smart, got her looks to work in her favour and Tae doesn’t blame her for he has done the same. He was so blinded by love that he saw her as an angel and he wasn’t the only one, many did too. There’d always be murmurings of her being manipulative, by boys and girls alike but they were just jealous, he reasoned.

See, Taehyung was the type to give a person everything when he liked someone and if she had asked him to give her the world, he’d try to do so until the day he dies. He showered her with gifts, got his dad to pull some strings so she could get that internship right after high school, begged a teacher to write that recommendation letter for her despite the fact she never paid attention in class and that’s all he did, give, give and give. He never asked for anything in return because he didn’t want anything, because he was in love.

“Listen, Tae… You’re sweet and everything but you’re just not my type,” Mina huffs.

“W-what?”

“We’re uhh… over.”

“Then why were we… why did you…”

Why were we together for as long as we were? Why did you tell me all those sweet lies?

“Babe, I like Jimin. I thought you knew that.”

“Oh.”

So there it was, the reason as to why she had pulled him along like an abandoned puppy. She had been just using him so she could get closer to his best friend, Jimin and along the way, picked up a few treats for herself simply because she knew Taehyung had all the teachers in this school in the palm of his hands and she knew his father could get her that summer internship she wanted.

He didn’t know what else to say and all he had taken away from the conversation was that he just wasn’t enough. He doesn’t blame Jimin, neither does he blame Mina. He blames himself.

When college begins, he knew he’d never let what Mina did to him happen again so his strategy was to hump and dump, to do it before the girl could. He never stopped to know the girl better, was clear about how it was going to be just a one night stand and it worked, for the most part… temporarily but he still felt empty on some days. But he knows at least that for now, he doesn’t really remember the feelings he has for Mina, neither does he remember how what she said to him made him feel or at least that’s what he liked to believe.

He was doing great, amazing and then you came along and destroyed all of that.

You reminded him of Mina, from the way you were sweet and snarky at the same time, to the way your hair fell and the way you laughed. You weren’t a carbon copy of her and maybe he was just seeing what he wanted to see, maybe he was grasping at straws to draw similarities but you stirred something in him akin to the feeling Mina was able to get out of him before she broke his heart of course.

After he gets to know you though, he realizes you’re nothing like Mina and yet he feels himself falling back into the same patterns, feels himself slipping into a dark hole of feelings except this time, he can’t express them.

He’s an idiot, a bona fide moron is all he can say about himself when he sees how he’s neglected you for a girl he wasn’t even sure he cared about, for Jessica. He wants to sock himself in the face when he gets that call from Solji, her telling him just how bad you’ve sunken. The screaming match between you and him in front of the library still plays in the back of his mind sometimes and he knows he handled it all wrongly but he didn’t know how else to tell you that whatever your coping mechanism was, wasn’t doing you any good. It hurt him to see you so broken because he felt that way too. You think of him as someone who wasn’t as academically talented, someone who didn’t give a damn about his studies but you were wrong, oh so wrong. He could see the way you were pushing yourself way past your mental limit to achieve the grades you wanted and he saw himself in you, he knew it would only lead you nowhere but down. It would’ve been great if he had been able to say all of that in the moment but when the girl he cares about so much is standing in front of him, on the verge of a mental breakdown, everything in his brain just goes haywire. He just didn’t want to see you hurting anymore because those who are hurt themselves never want to see others in the same position that they are in.

The day you call him out for an apology coffee date is when his heart soars and just seeing you speak to him like you used to make his heart go soft. When you offer to begin again, this time as just friends, he’s smiling as if it’s been the only thing he’d ever wanted to hear from you. He knew he’d have to get things together, to break things off with Jessica so he could start over with you and start it right this time.

Except, your version of begin again seems to be very different from his because over the summer it’s like you had disappeared. There were no replies to his call or texts, no updates on your social media, no nothing. When the new academic year begins, he finds you’re no longer living in the same dorm you used to and Solji herself is too busy with her academics to tell him where you are, she not even having the time to meet up with you since the semester has started.

It’s midway through the month when he hears from Solji that you’ve been hanging out with Jimin and his heart almost drops out of his ass. Not again, he frowns. He didn’t want a repeat of high school. Why Jimin? Why did you have to pick him? He’d take on any other guy, any time, any place but he’s lost once to Jimin and he thinks it’s probable he’d lose again. But, this time, he doesn’t want to and he knows he’s got a lot more going on for him than Jimin did. Taehyung knew you like he knew the back of his hand and he’ll be damned if he lets you slip away from him. This year was his second chance and he was going to play smart, give you your distance but made sure he was in your orbit just in case you felt the need to come running back and it didn’t take long for you to do just that.

He’ll admit he didn’t think Jimin would be able to get that far with you, that he’d be able to break down your walls and perhaps, Taehyung has miscalculated his chances but he’ll wait, wait until he could prove to you that he deserved a chance too.

A/N: hello! surprise! (not really!) but uhh I know some events have been reiterated and y’all probably tired of hearing about it but it’s important! for the finale! If you’re reading this fic without having read wrapped around first... some parts probably seem kinda sketch and doesn’t make sense but uhh if you read on, you’ll understand!

Wrapped Around, Part 1

#kpopwritingnet #bangtan bookclub #kkreationsnet #armiesnet #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #taehyung fluff #do you guys have a good spot to cry on campus too??? i love my crying spot

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