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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 months ago

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Winter Break | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Sam never considered himself a parent in any capacity. Sure he worked at a school but all that meant was that his clientele were snot-nosed brats, who are the perfect consumers for his on-campus shop. It was a great way to make money and how could he ever be bored when he could be let in on the dramatic inner workings of the student body. Usually he was generally indifferent with the mages he sold to but that was when they were just the selfish mean-spirited boys he dealt with.

“Oh thank you Mister Sam!”

It wasn’t a breath of fresh air to actually have one of the students respect him. It was just weird. Of course, his shadows clearly thought otherwise whispering excitedly about their misadventures to become a new student. It was against his will that he’d heard that they hailed from another world and were sharing the place of a student with a little monster. Now he couldn’t deny it was interesting that they’d united the students without magic. What kind of average human were they to actually force these wild kids to obey without collaring them?

“Do you think (Y/n) will like this? They have been saying how hard it is navigating Ramshackle at night.”

“Hmph do what you want.They should be happy we’re getting them anything.”

“We?”

“Yeah I mean I’m hear anyways I might as well.”

Perhaps it was these first years, that were just opening their horizons to someone new. A lesson he’d seen hundreds of arrogant seniors learn on their internships. That there were plenty of people not proficient in magic and that were prone to be peaceful. Heck, he wondered if they’d act the same with those preppy RSA kids.

“Evening Sam, I was wondering if you could help me.”

“Help you? What a surprise! Usually you’re the one coming to me to offer your help, Azul.”

“Haha very funny. Now what do you think is a good gift for someone you want to like you?”

Nevermind. All of them were losing their minds and it was all over the one they called the prefect. By the time he’d begun to accept that this was a widespread phenomenon he found himself beginning to change as well.

“Hey I just got a shipment of that tuna, Grim likes.”

“Thanks Sam but how did you know he preferred this kind? He always gets so pouty when I guess.”

The Shadows.”A…little bird told me.”

That fact kept him up at night. Specifically because he was wondering why it became a routine for the shadows to return with a full-on report on the prefect’s day before they helped him reload stock. Or why it irked him so much more to know that Crowley had time in the day to spend hours browsing his shop's shelves while the prefect finished a spending sheet the headmaster should be typing.

Guess that’s why he was so curious about those anticipated weeks.

“Where are you going for the Winter Break?"

You stopped in the middle of the motion of putting the box on it’s shelf. Staring blankly through the opening of the shelf as if you’d find the answer there. Mentally searching you found there was no set answer for this; barely you could recall the time you spent in Epel’s hometown but other than that no one had invited you anywhere. Not yet at least.

“Yeah hench-(Y/n) where we goin’?”

Grim’s question reminded you that Sam was waiting. Continuing to put the box in it’s place you stepped away back to the unpacked boxes.

“I don’t know…I just thought we’d stay here with the faeries like Crowley would want.”

Sam scoffed, “You shouldn’t be worrying about that bird. Is there somewhere you want to go?”

You smiled to yourself, shaking your head; well-aware he was hidden behind a fully stocked shelf. With a nearby box-cutter you opened the box beckoning an annoyed Grim to take it’s contents and put them where they should be.

“What about you, Sam? Anywhere you want to go?”

The famous redirect. Sam was prepared. While he wasn’t as easy to derail as his older coworkers or as confrontational about it when they did notice he wouldn’t be deterred so easily.

“Of course once the shop is closed I’m headed back home.”

“Oh where’s that?”

“Porto’bliss, its not the fanciest place but it has it’s moments. If you’d like I wouldn’t mind you coming with.”

The open-ended invitation made your heart swell. A break sounded great but a break without Crowley and his chores sounded lovely. Even better instead of slowly coming to miss your friends on an empty campus you could discover a new place with someone who had your best interests in mind. You’d have to think about it though, wouldn’t want to be hasty in case something really important needed to be done on campus.

“What do you think, Grim?” Sam asked opening a familiar pack of sweets that had the monster beaming.

“That sounds like a great idea! (Y/n) let’s go!”

Peeking from behind your shelf to see Grim dig into the opened bag, Sam mischeviously shrugs when you send him a look.

“I’ll have to think about it.”

_____________________________________________________________

Mozus Trein set a book down with more force then he needed to. His grey eyes daring a glance at the happy facial expression of the prefect lightly petting Lucius. He looks away before you can see where the cat is glaring back at-just as disturbed as his owner. Looking past the professor it’s Grim sleeping on the bookshelf you’d organized minutes ago. Figuring it’s better then him whining about your helping Trein you continue on talking.

“Yeah while I was helping stock with him, he offered we go to Porto’bliss. Have you ever been?”

The professor returned his gaze back to the essay he was grading, lightly coughing into his gloved hand a nice way to hide his grimace.

“Yes my wife and I traveled there for an anniversary. It has a very rustic feel,” he listened to you hum. Quickly adding on,” but we never went back. Mostly on the account that a lot of the…facilities are outdated.”

He fought the triumphant twitch on his small smile practically hearing the disgruntled “Oh” coming from you. The professor felt a slight twinge of guilt exacerbating his experience there. In truth it was only one establishment like that but until you’d go to prove him wrong he’d stand by his experience.

“But if you’d like a modern, family-filled environment my daughters are joining me at our estate in the Shaftlands. If you’d like to come.”

He adored the unfiltered joy on your face at his offer before it shriveled with that wonderfully loathsome politeness lowering your expectations. “I appreciate that but I wouldn’t want to get in the way. This is the only time your daughters get to see you after all.”

The warm chuckle from the older man had you looking up,” Oh no they’d be overjoyed if you came. They’d adore having someone younger than I around.”

That wast the most polite way he’d thought of masking the real reason they wouldn’t mind. He didn’t dare look at the growing pile of letters from his daughters. Rarely were they inclined to respond to his letters, hoping he’d switch to a more modern medium. But the second his writings started to describe an overworked, otherworldly prefect they began responding in a heartbeat.

Do they have mother? Have they spoken of one?

Are you bringing them home? Please say you will! We’d spoil them to bits!

They won’t have to go back will they? A normal school is probably safer then that school!

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPAPA!

PLEASE Papa let’s give (Y/n) a real home!

He was sure he raised his girls right. He really did. He also taught them to be women unafraid of others and determined in every aspect of their life. It begged the question if that determination translated to abducting relocating the prefect in the shoddy abandoned dorm. This was nicer. A peaceful invitation that you could unfortunately decline accept and slowly integrate yourself into the Trein household.

If he was successful, he’s certain Crewel and now Sam would sneer in his direction. The former would whine argue that his actions would be the opposite of caring for the prefect but he’d disagree. This was caring. Embracing them into a family that not only would be nurturing but would give a support system for their inevitable graduation from Night Raven College. For as much as he…mildly enjoyed teaching such unruly youth a magicless student wouldn’t have many business prospects. Not counting the leering royals you seem to attract. What he was offering was a fall-back, security for you and your cat-like companion. Even Crewel would have to relent this would be much better.

“What do you think Lucius? You okay if we come with?”

“Mrrow.” The purr and fluffy weight leaning into your hand told you exactly what he thought.

Once again you had a lot to think about it.

“Take your time (Y/n), me and Lucius will be here when the other students leave so you won’t miss saying goodbye to your friends.”

______________________________________________________________

“You’ll be coming with me to the Queendom of Roses of course.”

“What?”

Crewel sighed waiting for the troublesome mutts to leave with the chattery monster turning to you once again.

“I heard you talking about what you’d all be doing during the break. I'm reminding you that I’ll be taking you home…with me.”

Crewel wasn’t embarrassed at all. In face he prided himself on his initiative, earlier in the year he would have broken mirrors with his own bashfullness. Something about expressing any affection to someone who could communicate in the same language as him and return their own form of praise without a wagging tail. It was like highschool all over again. But he was better now, perfect material to guide an overly mature child that needs his guidance. He doesn’t know if he was ready for the ‘f-word’ but if you happened to slip up and call him that after receiving a beautifully wrapped gift with a color scheme that matches the decor. He was just the best wasn’t he.

“Actually Professor Crewel, I’m going to have to decide I’ve gotten a lot of offers and I think it’d be really mean if I didn’t–”

You were still talking but Crewel wasn’t listening. Who in all of Twisted Wonderland would have the gall to overstep the offer only he was worthy enough to give. He couldn’t help rolling his eyes, knowing there quite a few dirty mutts who’d jump at the chance to invite his pure, far-too trusting pup into their dumpheaps…or restricting castles he wasn’t ruling out any of that hungry pack. Still he figured he’d ask.

“Who offered?”

You were cowering a little bit; he must’ve come off incredibly harsh. His bad.

“Um Sam and Trein—”

“Alright get to lunch and eat this time. I’ll ask your guardpups if you have. If you don't, I'm giving you detention.”

He put his hands on the prefect’s shoulders turning them around to leave the empty classroom.

“But what about your offer? Should we talk about–?”

He pat their head and gave one last shove.

“We’ll decide for you pup. Eat your lunch have a good rest of your day. Pack your bags too I have a feeling a decision will be made by the end of the day.”

He shut the door on your face and you rushed to catch the lunch line.

Guess you wouldn’t have to think at all. Oh well makes things easier for you.

__________________________________________________________

If tension was gasoline Crowley’s office would’ve exploded by now. It just so happened his office was the place Crewel decided to confront his coworkers; the only place private enough to discuss where exactly their prefect was going for this break.

“I asked them first. So they’ll be coming with me.” Trein scowled, “Get your feet off the table and I don’t know if where you’re taking them is family friendly environment.”

Sam joylessly laughed,”Family-friendly? Do you call trying to replace your third child with (Y/n) as a family-friendly environment? Yeah Besides I don’t think they they’ll want to spend anything over a day with people old enough to need a diaper change.”

Lucius swatted a clawful paw into Sam’s exposed ankles, scampering quicker than the chasing shadows that morphed into talons. Jumping up high and near the window hissing pridefully at the shadows forced to slink nearby.

His cat’s actions lessened the blow of his words but it didn’t denote what was said. Trein knew that was far from accurate but he knew arguing wouldn’t help. Not with those who needed any kind of evidence for their case but Sam wasn’t who he was most worried about.

“On that note, being with someone so close to their age without any adult supervision would be unwise. Seniority aside I believe I am the best candidate. Not to mention I’d be more than willing to invite their friends a couple towns over.”

Sam’s face was twisted in a snarl, an expression Trein would have used if he couldn’t just glare.

“You forget I am an adult. I don’t need to be geriatric nanny to know what the kid needs.”

“And I am not aiming to replace them at all. I just know it’d be healthier for them not to be alone in a time like this.”

“Then we’re at an impasse.”

A tense silence took over the room. Trein broke it with the authority who usually held over his fellow teachers,”Then we’ll draw lots.”

Sam and Crewel nodded in agreement, demanding to inspect the elder’s methods–promising there's no chance of cheating.

“Wait!” Vargas had been watching the three of them hurl insults waiting for a good time to remind them he wanted to be counted in the running.

“What about me? I don’t mind taking them with me!”

Trein didn’t look up from the sticks they chosen and Sam just whistled putting his arms behind his head. Leaving it to Crewel to tell Vargas to ‘quiet down’.

“No one in their right mind is letting you take that pup and force them into some weird training regimen the whole break!”

“But I wasn’t going to–”

Crewel cut him off holding his teaching crop threateningly at the P.E teacher, who dejectedly settled back into his chair. Watching mopily as the three teachers drew lots. Sam pulled first, then Crewel, and finally Trein opened his hand. After comparing the sizes of each of the sticks, the winner was decided.

The door suddenly burst open in a flur of black feathers and the smell of the cafeteria’s sloppy joe–it was Crowley.

“Halt for I have harrowing news about the prefect!”

They all turned to the headmaster they hardly respected and all looked eagerly for the news. Were they hurt? In another overblot? Abducted by some delusional pup again? They all hurried to the headmaster, eagerly awaiting the crow’s information.

“They-” Sam held the rim of his hat in nervousness.

“--in fact–” Trein had outgrown immature nervous habits, still he allowed his finger to tap impatiently.

“are–” Crewel had enough, easily grabbing Crowley’s collar and shaking him accordingly,”Just say it. CLEARLY.”

The snarl from his already snippy employee made the headmaster gulp. Putting his hands up in defense he stopped dragging it out.

“I’ve already planned to take (Y/n) with me. I wanted them to come on vacation with me.”

Everyone in the room curled their lips in disgust, uncaring that they made the headmaster curl into himself and begin crying into his hands. Sam when looked at by the pouting crow he shrugged, “I’d believe you more if you made up something about forcing them to work off some debt you had.”

Trein huffed,”or forcing them to be your unpaid secretary, full-time.”

Crowley struck a dramatic pose, tears conveniently dried,”But aren’t I so kind? To invite them into my nest and take them under my wings.”

Crewel opened his mouth, planning to insult him once again only to be interrupted by the doors opening once again. Seeing the sweaty and out of breath student of Heartslabyul usually right beside their the prefect.

“Pup? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be helping (Y/n) pack?”

“That’s what I have to talk to you about–” the student with the spade on his cheek was interrupted by a cacophonous sound of thunder rumbling. A quick glance outside pointed to the growing green storm clouds hovering over Ramshackle–the calling card of an unhappy fae.

“Spade, what’s happened?”

Trein’s question had everyone eagerly waiting for the answer from the anxious looking student.

“That cat-guy from RSA took them!”

“What cat-guy?”

“...Could you mean Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker?”

Deuce snapped his fingers at the name, “Yeah that guy! He took them, their bags, and told everyone they were taking them for the Winter break!”

Deuce could feel a cold sweat trickle from his forehead as the glares and scowls filled the room with a despairful mood. Not that he wasn’t feeling the same but they had much bigger problems than the teachers being on a warpath.

Vargas stood, taking it on himself to get his coworkers to shape up. Not because he was worried their real personalities were coming out but because he knew when it came to tracking time was of the essence. And maybe the prefect would be willing to just choose him if he's the first to save them!

“Alright everyone let’s begin our search at our rival academy. I’m sure they’ll love to know one of their students has kidnapped one of ours.”

Crowley cackled gleefully,”I’d never let them live it down.”

Deuce was pumped about to voice his joy before looking at the storm clouds rumbling closer.

“I’m all for it but maybe we should deal with…that first.” Pointing at the rapidly growing puff of green clouds.

Turns out they’d have a lot to think about before anyone can take you for the break.

Who knew?

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twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 1 year ago

Note

May I request Great Seven Yuu with no filter? Maybe the other students are just TESTING THEM that day and with a little prodding from their darling parents, they just say what’s on their mind for the day

Yuu + The Great Seven

Note: This is different from my other great 7 fics as I don't focus on what the 7 say as much here, this also aint the canon unit yuu for this. Anyways enjoy

Cws: Gn!Yuu, Rook is clowned on cause he's French, implications of Crewel/Crowley but in a divorcee way, some cringe ig, minor changes to canon, first years are ur homies, sebek has moments where he yells in all caps cause he's cringe, Lilia knows Maleficent, Trey isn't slandered as much as he should be, Starts off Crack, turns to angst, then fluff. 6k Words

****

Since arriving at NRC, you have been playing your role well, excellent even. You played the role of a magicless, weak, and gullible prefect that knew nothing of the world you were in. The mirror said that you “had too many souls to judge” and that you had no magic, which was technically true as the magic you had was borrowed from the seven sealed within you.

It was going to be perfect. You can finally lay low and research this world to give your dear seven parents and their familiars bodies again, then make your place in this new world… or so you thought.

Right after the disaster that was the entrance ceremony, you ended up being roommates with the cat and crashed it. Fine, you could work with this. Then the very next day, the cat got into a fight with a pathetic bully which caused a statue to get burned, which then caused another person to get involved, which then caused a chandelier to break, and then you had to go off into a hidden mine to fight a monster late into the night, and you get the story.

It has been consistently difficult to pretend you had no magic, or to make the excuse that “someone else must have casted that spell”. When you eventually had to explain that you were a magician, there went the first half of your plan. Now Crowley and everyone seems to expect more from you, at least you were able to pretend it was weak, you guess. And as if it could get any worse, the seven seem to be encouraged to give these brats a taste of their own medicine and stop holding back. Oh how you would love to but putting up with everyone after, especially the number one pain in your ass, Ace, would be so fucking annoying.

The aforementioned pain in your ass poked you, interrupting the mental conversation you were having with the ensemble in your head, and you had to hold back the urge to use Hades’ flames to set him ablaze. You shut your eyes tightly and tense up before slowly turning to him. “What?” Your eyes narrow as Ace looks over at you with the most infuriating neutral expression that turns to a pout.

“Were you even listening to me?” “Look, it’s nothing personal, it’s just how I am.” Ace’s lips pursed as he raised a brow. “Really?” Deuce nudged Ace. “Hey, be nice, you know they don't mean to space off like that, it's their condition.” Deuce was truly a blessing. “Seems to me like Yuu is just a space case,” Grim snickered and Sebek nodded his head. “I completely agree with Grim! Honestly, how could you and Silver be so complacent? Do you lack discipline?”

You mentally groaned with the seven at Sebeks scolding. “They don’t lack discipline,” Jack interrupted, “Yuu says they have a condition that delays their thoughts, they need extra time to process what you said.” “Thank you, Jack.” You smile, and feel Ortho glide right next to you and look up at you. “Having a condition like that must be hard… I can't imagine my processor lagging…” Ortho trails off and frowns, “Oh but I’ll try my best to look for a fix for you!” The child beams. Epel looks over at you.

“That is one hell of an issue huh? Some days you're just as quick as anyone else but then sometimes you take forever, it's a fickle thing.” Epel hums and Ace rolls his eyes at everyone defending you. “Tch, yeah what's that about? Sometimes I even hear you talking to yourself, weirdo.” Ace playfully nudges you and you narrow your eyes at him.

Something within you snaps. Maybe it’s because of all the stress of hiding it. Maybe it's because you have to interact and pretend everything is fine to the students who have bullied, harassed, and tried to kill you resulting in god awful PTSD finally making you snap. Or maybe it's just because you want this damned asshole that has wormed his way into your heart to shut up.

“Because ‘thought processing disorder’ isn’t the best way to actually describe my condition, Ace, but it's sure as hell easier to explain than ‘I have several voices in my head judging me and telling me what to do all the time and no medication cannot stop it no matter what I do and all of your stupid comments and questions makes them erupt in a 10 minute yelling match making it impossible to hear my own thoughts!”

You sneer at them all as they look over with a mix of surprise and pity, Ortho looks like a kicked puppy. You sigh, “I’m sorry, I just…” “Nah that's nothing to apologize for…” Ace sighs, and you know he wants to apologize but pride won't allow him. “Y’know what if you just say what the voices want to say?” Deuce suddenly asks out of the blue.

“O-of course, I don't know what they say so maybe it's not a good idea but…” “Actually, it may give Ace some patience for once.” Jack gives a small smirk. “We all know he needs to learn to think before he speaks.” “Hey!” Ace huffs. “Fine then, bring it! I can take whatever you throw at me.” And the ginger smirks as if he didn't just say some famous last words.

“You're serious?” You blink. “Do you even think you could handle it?” Sebek scoffs, “I can take anything a measly human dishes out, it is nothing compared to fae!” Epel shuts his eyes in annoyance. “Oh you three don’t even know what you’re getting into, yet you’re already signing up for trouble.” Ortho beams. “Actually, this might help me collect some data to help you, Yuu!” “You four don’t even know what you're getting yourselves into…” Epel corrects himself.

“Okay okay.” You sigh. “Tomorrow, I will allow whatever they say, happen… to an extent at least…” You mutter, making Hades and the Queen of Hearts in your head boo you. Last thing you need is an Arson charge….

****

You laid down on your bed later that day as the sun began to set. “Okay guys… there are only a few ground rules. No murder, and no major property damage, small fires are okay, okay?” Before any of the seven and their familiars could respond or complain, you heard Grim.

“Who’re you talking to? Oh wait, you speaking to the guys in your head?” Grim asked, jumping on the bed and cuddling up to you. “First the mouse in the mirror and now you have some voices in your head, what other secrets are you keeping from me, hmm?” 'A lot actually', you think as you stroke Grim’s fluffy head. “You’ll see tomorrow.” You smile and your excitement made it difficult to sleep that night.

****

You got up, did your daily routine that Mama Grimhilde has laid out for you, before exiting the house with Grim in your arms for breakfast. Of course you haven’t forgotten the deal you made today at all. ‘Pssst, hey small sib~’ Flotsam chuckles darkly in your head, ‘Can I bite someone today?’ You chuckle, “Only if they deserve it.” Grim peeked up at you. “Oh yeah, you’re talking out loud today.” Grim smirks, “I wonder how Explodey-Head’s gonna react to that!”

Slinking into the cafeteria, you get into line per usual, getting a tray of whatever was free that you liked, you had to pinch your pennies this week. Sitting down, you notice that your usual squad was there, including Ace and Deuce, who usually took their time to arrive, and Ortho who usually had to deal with his brother. “Good morning.” You say settling down. “Morning, Yuu!” Ortho beams, “I got here early so I can start the data collection! I'll try to record as much as possible!”

‘Oh how precious.’ Ursula purrs in your head, and the seven’s consensus on Ortho, even if they didn’t appreciate anklebiters, is that he wasn’t half bad. “So, today you're going to embrace your issues, I SAY BRING IT ON!” Sebek yells, making everyone wince, and Epel shoots a tired glare. ‘Tell that boy to silence! I am trying to nap!’ Scar huffs.

You nervously sigh, “Well first off all, they said to shut up please, it's not even 7 in the morning.” Sebek looks offended for a moment, but a very familiar voice interrupts, sending shivers down your spine. “Oh Koebi-Chan~” A wry voice purrs, making Grim hop off of you to hide. Everyone in your head went ‘oh no this guy again.’

You honestly didn’t mind Floyd, hell, you dare to consider him a friend, but you really were not in the mood for his antics today. “Hey Floyd,” You sigh, “look dude, I’m not in the mood today, can you please leave me alone?” You ask, and your words just make Floyd beam. The seven seem annoyed, but then you feel their excitement; your first victim. 'Humiliate the boy…' Jafar whispers to you.

Floyd drapes himself over you as you eat, occasionally leaning over to try and steal a bite from whatever was on your fork. “Ehh? Little shrimpy’s feeling bold today!~ How fun! Whatcha gonna do about me?~” His arms wrap around you to squeeze around your rib cage, “Especially when I squeeze…”

“Dude, leave them alone.” Deuce says before freezing at the glare he was shot. "…Please?” He adds. “Look Floyd,” Jack sighs, “we’re trying to get Yuu some help today with an illness, Ortho is trying to get data on them, you aren’t helping.” Jack interrupts, trying to keep your condition vague for your privacy. Seems like Jack forgot that Floyd ignores reason when he finds it funny.

“Ooo~, is the little shrimpy sick?” Floyd says backing off of you slightly and poking you in the ribs. “You know Azul may have a remedy for it, you should come on down.~” “He does not, and for the final time there is nothing he can offer me that would make me want to make a deal with him. Please go away.” You warn one last time and Floyd leans in, pushing his luck in hopes to see you squirm. Ortho glares and prepares to get up and send him away but you hold out your hand to tell him to stop.

“Whatcha gonna do lil shrimpy?~” Floyd smirks. ‘Is it time?’ Hades asks, ‘Please tell me its time.’ You smile and mentally reply, ‘it’s time.’ You keep your calm smile as you look at Floyd. “Probably something my father taught me.” “And what's that?” Floyd says, grabbing the back of your neck.

“This.” Suddenly you erupted in the brightest blue flames the world has ever seen making half of the cafeteria turn to stare. Your friends at the table all jump back and Ortho flashes red as he scans you. As quickly as the flames came to be, they disappeared. Floyd pulled his hands away, waving it off to cool it down. He wasn’t burned, at least nothing major, but the sleeve of his uniform was singed and he stared at it in rapt fascination.

You expected him to get annoyed, or to maybe start a fight, or something, but Floyd was in a good mood, and he laughed. “I didn’t know little shrimpy could do that! I thought you could only summon an ember, eheheh!~ Seems little shrimpy has more secrets than we thoooought~” Floyd muses, and suddenly another familiar face comes in, one that looks exactly like Floyd.

“Floyd, I believe the prefect doesn’t want to play anymore. Come on now, we should go.” “Aww but I wanna keep playing!” “I know brother dearest, but it seems that the cruel and unwavering Prefect doesn't want to,” Jade faked a frown and sighed, “How awful, if only they could have an ounce of compassion for my poor, poor brother… However, ” Jade opened his eyes back up and smirked, staring directly at you with a twinkle in his eye. “I think it’s best to leave them alone for today, especially since whatever ailment they have seems to make them erupt in flames at any given moment…”

The eel’s voice drips with faux concern and Floyd snickers, Azul is gonna have some wonderful intel to ponder over later. You decide to say exactly what all of your fathers thinking. “Go eat shit and die for all I care.” And Jade’s eyes widen ever so slightly before the gleam with amusement, having never seen this side of you. “Of course prefect! If this ah… ailment continues to cause you trouble, please do let us know. We at Octavinelle love to help the poor and unfortunate.”

You watched the two slink off before turning back to your meal as all of your first year friends gawked at you. “What the hell was that! You never said you could do that!” Ace sputtered. “Yeah! You nearly cooked me!” Grim whines, making the audience in your head relish in their surprise. Ursula and The Queen of Hearts seem particularly amused.

“Magic like that requires a lot of skill.” Sebek ponders, “To cast a flame cloak and not burn yourself requires a lot of concentration, furthermore it requires a high amount of magic potential on par with fae. Didn’t you say you have none, Yuu? HAVE YOU BEEN LYING ABOUT WHAT YOU ARE? OR PERHAPS YOU WANTED TO HIDE IT TO SKIRT OUT ON EXAMS!” “Volume!” Deuce whines, and Grimhilde mentally thanks him.

“Oh… whoops…” “WHOOPS??” A few of the first years yell and Epel shoots you an ugly-baffled expression. “Whoops?? Whoops?? Is that all you have to say about that? You performed some of the most advanced defensive magic without a second thought and you just say whoops??” Epel’s accent threatens to slip out.

“Hey, Ortho, what's their magic reading, you look concerned.” Deuce asks as Ortho looks at the screens he’s projecting with a calculating expression. “I think there is an error in my system, I have scanned them 5 times and it says they have no traces of magic at all, but there is also no trace of any dampening magic used to hide or change that reading. Furthermore, the technique they used is no longer in use, records show it dates back more than the era of gods! That version of the spell they casted cannot be duplicated at all!” Ortho says in amazement before turning to you.

“Just… what are you?”

You blink as they all stare at you expectedly. “I'm a human.”

****

It was time for class, you said that you were gonna use the bathroom first, so the others should go without you for now, you’ll see them with Crewel. You didn’t think that anything eventful would come from it. You were wrong. This is NRC.

Coming out of the bathroom, a few Savanahclaw chuds cornered you. “Can I help you?” You asked exasperatedly to the NRC equivalents of Beavis and Butthead. “Tch, you know why we're here!” “…No, I don't.” You blink rubbing your eye, which just pissed off the duo even more.

“You made a fool out of our dorm during the spell drive competition!” “Oh god, is that what this about, dude that was nearly a year ago.” “Yeah and we came back to settle the score.” You just raised a brow and a small smile crept to your face.

‘Oh! Oh! Can I bite now? Please please please can I bite now! Come onnnn I’ve been such a good eel!’ Flotsam pleads and you hear the familiars speak. ‘Me want bite!!’ Ed whines. Raven caws, ‘Yeah me too!’ Iago agrees. ‘We wanna join too!’ The imps laugh. ‘I will… stay here…’ Diaval sighs.

You blink. “Sick em.” You say, making the two idiots make a face at you. Flotsam immediately lunges for the ass. “AIIIIEEE!” One yells and you hold back a snort as the others join, Iago and Raven both grabbing onto the members hair and pecking at them. Jetsam basically lassos around one, making him trip so the hyena trio can rough him up. The imps both transform into a blue and red cat respectively and continue to add to the looney tunes violence of it all.

The two run off and the familiars return to you, except for the eels that slither miserably in place on the smooth, frictionless floor. “Help us up.” Jetsam scoffs. “No I think I’ll stay like this a bit longer.” 'Angelfish…' Ursula warns. "... yes mom…"

…

On your way to class you run into Crowley who attempts to stop you and unload another issue for you to deal with. Instead you say what your familiars wanted to say. “You are gay.” You say, making the man just stare at you as you walk off. “And Crewel also has weirdly complicated feelings for you.”

“FEELINGS YOU SAY?? WHICH ONES?? WHICH SORT OF FEELINGS YUU?? YUU!!!” You speed walk off regretting that decision, but you admit it will be funny to see those two get divorced. Crewel deserves better.

****

Animal Linguistics was always a bit of an annoying class, and this time, Trein has invited a few of the more advanced students to the class to help you freshmen. Ace let out a deep sigh when he saw Ruggie, knowing this guy will only do the bare minimum for his grade and charge any lesson extra.

“So when the cat goes ‘mrrrp?’ You're good, usually you should try to respond with a ‘mah Ah’” Ruggie explains to your group. “Do we always have to talk to cats and mice? I feel like we should also practice some other creatures too…” You sigh.

Trein overhears you and responds. “Your birds don’t count, Yuu. They are able to speak.” You sigh. “Okay…” You sigh and Ruggie gives you that stupid shit-eating grin. “Aw, you not satisfied with my lesson?” “No.” You glare, which surprises Ruggie, unused to your assertiveness. “I can speak to animals already and I’ve been teaching these boneheads, we're fine here.”

“Yeah but you say things that don't make sense…” Grim complains. “It doesn’t make sense because you guys are not used to the accents animals have. You know what, hold on, I‘ll get some real good ones to practice on.” “Huh what are you—?” Ruggie gawks when he sees three whole hyenas appear out of nowhere along with two eels around your waist.

“They are not allowed to speak in their human voices. Knock 'em out, guys.” “Yuu! Where did you even…” Trein sighs. “Fine, fine, they can stay as long as they are well behaved…” The hyenas cackle and the eels snicker. Deuce nervously looks into the crossed eyes of Ed who winks in response.

Ace seals his lips to hold back a laugh until Banzai leans where he stares nervously. “Seduce me bro.” “AYO???”

****

Soon history class came, and once again a special guest was brought in, Lilia. The lesson went fine. Your sass wasn't needed. You kept quiet as you took a few notes here and there, and the end bell soon rang out. You stared at a particular note you took.

‘The Thorn Fairy’s wings were leathery and bat-like, much like a dragon.’

You looked down at the note, and Maleficent herself seems to hum. ‘Seems like he is still following orders years later.’ She says and doesn’t elaborate. As students begin to pack up and leave, you wave down Lilia, who puts a hand on his hip and waits for you.

“Oho? What is it, prefect?” Lilia beams as you look at the note you took in your open notebook. “I have a question about what you said about the Thorn Fairy.” Lilia nods, “Well yes, what is it? It always warms my heart to see youngsters value history.”

You look at the note again. “You said that her wings were leathery and bat-like.” Lilia nods his head. “But aren't they feathered?” Lilia’s smile drops. “In fact she lost her wings too but got them back at some point, right? Did they become leathery during those years they were gone? Is that what you mean?”

Lilia looks at you, a bit of shock in his eyes, before he quietly speaks to you. “How do you know that?” “Know what?” “The Thorn Fairy only disclosed that information to two people, her raven, Diaval, and me…” You freeze for a moment and then Diaval appears on your shoulder to caw at him.

Lilia stares at you, then at the raven, then back to you. “Diaval, is that you…? Why are you with… wait does that mean—" Lilia was cut off. “Yo, Yuu!” Deuce calls out from the doorway. “You coming?” You clear your throat and nod. “Yeah, I’m coming!” You look over at Lilia, “Thank you for your time.” He could only stare as you walked off and Diaval cawed an apology

***

Towards the end of the day, you and your first year friends were all going to hang out at Heartslabyul to study together, which you know was code for ‘get distracted halfway and hang out’. You walked down the main path to the mirror chamber when you felt a familiar presence nearby. You were being watched.

“Come out Rook, I know you're there.” You look over at one of the apple trees, and narrow your eyes when you see Rook pop out from behind it all theatric. “Très bien, Trickster! You found me, that is a feat not many can achieve!” The weirdo beams. You nodded. “Yeah, you don't need to stalk me by the way. I am happy to get to know you through talking…”

“Non non, Trickster, you say that however I believe you don’t truly speak your mind!” The French man smiles. “I notice that you are not true to yourself! Always holding back your strength and what you mean to say, when I caught wind you were going to be yourself for a day, I could not help but try to study you!” Okay wow, he has you read.

“You can learn so much more about a person through their actions, but alas, you are so good at concealing those too, mon dieu, you are quite the mystery that I hope to uncover, and the most challenging one to date!” Rook says in awe. “I enjoy a good hunt, and this one has been most enthralling!” “I’ve always been able to sense when you're there, its why I tend to slink off not long after.”

“Merde! Is that so?” Rook smirks, and you sweat, you fucked up. “Aha, I knew you knew of me! Oh how fun! I have never had such good prey before!” You narrow your eyes slightly as he continues. “Would you dare to tell me how you are able to detect me so easily? Ah– but of course, if you don't that makes things much more magnifique!”

“Um… I honestly actually don't know how I do, I just do?” Rook seems pleased, “How effortless! Tres bien! Beauté! I must hone my skills as a hunter more! Until next time, Yuu!” Rook begins to walk off before pausing and his smile drops for a moment.

“And even if it is not me, I do hope you can truly open up to somebody someday. Anyone would be lucky to have that level of trust with a Trickster such as yourself! Holding everything in does you no good! Au revior, little trickster, or perhaps I should call you le Chevalier Mystère?” Rook has that small sparkle in his eye.

“Switch it up now and then, keep it interesting.” You nod at Rook “À bientôt!” He says, and he seems to be muttering some weird French poem about strangers and beauty as you leave.

****

You were stopped yet again on your way to Heartslabyul as you passed the mystery shop. The door was open and you see Trey ponder how he’s going to carry the groceries he brought back to the dorm. “Hey Trey,” you walks in and wave, “you look conflicted, something up?”

“Ah prefect, I am actually,” Trey wears that smiley-wincing expression that Trey has when he’s in deep shit. “I'm sorry to bother you, but could you help me carry some of these bags back to my dorm? It may take a few trips but I promise a treat in return.” “You don’t need to Trey, I’ll help you even without one, you’ve been kind to me.”

Trey’s brows raise slightly and he adjusts his glasses, looking away awkwardly. “Ah, well, thank you, Prefect.” Trey rolls up his sleeves, revealing his forearms as he prepares to grab a bag. "Those bags of flour and sugar are quite heavy, so be careful— wuh?” Trey stared dumbstruck as you lifted 500 pounds worth of dry ingredient bags in one arm. “I- how are you— Is that not heavy?”

“It is, but I’m used to it.” “At least let me help—“ “No, no fine, lets go.” “O… kay…” Trey adjusts his glasses and you both walk off to Heartslabyul, making a lot of people turn their heads as you pass by.

Entering the dorm, you notice Deuce and Grim gawk at you. “Give me a minute, I’m helping Trey!” You shout as you walk everything to the kitchen and set it down on the counter. “There.” Trey stares at the pile you put down, mentally going through all the times before you acted so weak. “Ahem, thank you prefect, Ace told me you would be over in the rose garden to ‘study’ right?” “They never study.” Trey gives that 'Trey sad smile' from earlier. “You got that right.”

****

Exiting the kitchen, you look into one of the mirrors hanging on the walls of the dorm, adjusting your appearance when yet another annoying voice interrupts you. “O-M-G! It's Yuu-Chan!” Cater shouts with his typical manufactured smile. “Heyyyy!” He waves and you feel your brain melting in your skull. “Hey Cater, what's up?”

“I have a questionnn!~” He smiles, pulling up something on his phone. “Are these you?” You sweat and look over to the images he pulled up. There was one of you in flames in the cafeteria, and another of you in the hallway wheezing at the pack of familiars all jumping the two chuds. “Yeah… yeah you caught me…”

“They’re trending locally right now and you know I just have to get in on that! Mind if we take a pic?” “Go ahead.” You sigh and Cater immediately snaps a selfie of him and your exhausted self. “Me and the bestie! #NRCProblemChild #NRCConspiracy #IsekaiProtag #ExtraTerrestrialPrefectConspiracy! Aaannnd post! Thank you, Yuu-Chan, I’m curious though what was that about?”

“Those two assholes were trying to beat me up and don’t worry about the other one.” “Don't worry?” Cater scoffs as you adjust yourself in the mirror again. “Helllooo the magicless prefect, turned slightly magical, turned to god-like mage suddenly does that within a year! That's gotta be something!” Cater beams and then looks over at you and sweats.

You were glaring at him, but the mirror in front of you had several eyes also glaring at him. “… Who’s that?” “Who’s what?” “That!” Cater points to the mirror and when you turn to look it disappears. “That's me, Cater, I know I look a bit different since first arriving, but I don't think I look half bad.” You gave an insincere smile.

“My friends are waiting for me Cate, seeya..."

****

You left the hangout early, not liking all the questions probing into your mind or your past at all, in fact you left pretty upset with some insinuations and accusations of your insincerity. “Are we even friends, Yuu?” Deuce frowned. “Have you been lying to us?” Jack glares. You sigh, and walk randomly, no destination in mind.

“Why aren't you opening up to us?” Ace huffs. “I mean you trust us right?” Ace’s frown turned to offense when he saw you look away. “Dude come on! When have we given you a reason to not trust us?” You snap at him. “Our very first meeting was you insulting me and since then you have been roping me into trouble!”

Ace looked guilty there. “Yuu…” Epel frowned and Ortho shot a glare at Ace. “Human, Ace may have had a rough meeting but what about us?” “What about you? What about you?” You dragged your hands across your face.

“There's a lot about you guys actually! From Mr. Don’t-Be-Friendly-Cause-We’ll-Never-be-Friends over here to Mr.Internalized-Racism-Against-My-Kind here! And let’s not forget I-Cause-Half-Of-Your-Problems-And-Sometimes-Leave-You-WIthout-Food-For-A-Few-Days Grim! Yeah I have no clue! It's almost like I tried opening up to you all before but I was brushed off. It's almost like I have been telling you that I have been having these prophetic dreams since arriving and have been telling you about a man living in my mirror and calling out to me constantly! And everytime— every fucking time its nothing or no big deal!”

You wipe away tears. “I have been trying to talk, but nobody's listening. It’s like I’m made to understand and not be understood! I have been having to put everyone else before myself and solve everyone’s else’s problems without a thank you or someone to lean on since day one! I mean, all these blots have given me fucking scars. Physical fucking scars! All while I was being berated for being a weak little human too! And what? I still am expected to bend over backwards for the people that tried to kill me? Everything’s swept under the rug for everyone else but me, huh? No one ever checks on me, hell, I am not even acknowledged half the time when I’m in the same room as someone, so yeah I also wonder why I don't talk.”

You push yourself up and grab your things. “Wait!” “No, no! Leave me alone, for once will you leave me alone willingly!” “Yuu come on! We’ll listen.” You pause. “Yuu isn’t even my name.” You glare. “It isn't…?” Grim asks. “I have been called ‘You’ this entire time here because no one bothered asking my name and everyone assumed it was ‘Yuu’. I don't even get to introduce myself anyways when I do get asked. I am not my own person, and you never made me feel like my own person.”

You walked off. Looking back now you regret it. You’re embarrassed, you sounded so stupid. You wipe away a few tears and feel a presence appear, Cerberus. The three heads nudge and cuddle you as you sob and you can feel the sevens hands all trying to soothe you. ‘There, there’ one says. Let it out.’ Another responds. ‘Poor thing.’

“Come on, boy, it's been a while since you’ve been on a walk…” You mutter, and think back to what Rook said to you earlier. Opening up to someone was a Herculean task on its own, but someone understanding you was impossible. Even telling people the truth can get you or them in trouble…

You lead the way down to the Ignihyde dorm. No one in that dorm leaves their room anyways, it's safe for your good boy to walk around there.

***

There was in fact a certain dorm leader there, who was just as shocked to see you and a giant dog. Idia punched in the number to a snack at the vending machine, turned around and gawked at the giant dog behind him. He then looked over at you.

“Yuu? Is that-? I mean is he—? Ortho said you—… Is that the real…?” Idia sputtered, not sure what to ask first. “Shut it weeb, no ones gonna believe you.” Idia gawked even more. Since when were you so sassy? No seriously, you were also so overly kind to everyone it unsettled him.

“…Sorry…” you mumble. “You can pet him… he’s… soft…” Idia blinks and offers out a hand. One of the heads sniffs it before nuzzling into him. “Holy shit…” Idia whispers as he immediately starts fawning over the dog.

“Who’s some good boys, who’s some boys? Oh that's a great pupper! Oh yes you all are!” It’s strange to see Idia all smiley to himself, but it’s pleasant. “How did you—“ “I can't answer that.” You respond. “So dont ask…”

Idia goes quiet leaning back from the heads that licked him, his flaming locks dancing behind him. “Ortho said you haven’t been feeling well…” “I haven’t been, not for a while, I guess it finally all came out to the point where it’s noticeable…” “Ah, I feel that…” Idia trails off awkwardly.

“I know we're not friends, but I appreciate you.” Idia mumbles. “You make Ortho very happy, and I love seeing my little brother happy… He says you're like another sibling and insists we would get along. He really wants me to get to know you… and uh.. We don't have to, but… yeah… Thank you, I guess…’ Idia looks like he’s about to die, but he speaks again.

“Ortho says you make him feel human, and that you’ve been helping him learn more about how to find out who he is more than anyone else, more than me, even, probably cause you got out more… He told me you were upset, and he’s worried about you. So uh… please reach out to him?”

“Thank you, Idia…” You sigh. “Yeah I will, I will reach out to him, its not his fault, I just… I just need time to think… I don't even know who I am, or what comforts me…” “Um, I don't know what you like… but uh… actually, give me your number. I know a pretty cool site with a lot of free shows, I think there’s a few you’ll like.” He offers an attempt at a smile. “And also maybe you try a few video games? If you haven’t tried them already… who knows maybe we can play together…” You smile and open up your contacts. “Yeah, I would like that actually…”

A new contact was added: ‘Gremlin.’

****

Walking off to your dorm, you dare not go in. You don't know if your friends are all waiting for you inside, or if Grims there. You sorta don't want to deal with that right now still. The corners of your eyes catch a familiar sight. Fireflies dance through the night, coming out of the grass and surrounding you.

“Hey, Tsunotaro… Heh, maybe I ought to call you ‘Firefly’ or king of the fireflies, maybe.” You wipe your eyes as you turn around and there he is, your Tsunotaro. You both don't know each other's names, but you don't need to. Tsunotaro and Child of Man work just fine.

“Greetings, Child of Man, it’s always good to see you but…” The fae frowns, “are you alright, Child of Man? You seem troubled…” “I… Yeah I am… I just… don’t know what to do…”

Your friend carefully reaches out to you before retracting his hand. “Do you want to talk about it?” “I think I need a distraction…” “I can do that,” Tsunotaro offers his hand. “Come with me.

You have never seen so many pretty colors before as Malleus casts a few spells, making the forest into the most beautiful light show you’ve ever seen. Mushrooms glow from where they sprout, leaves swirl with beautiful patterns, and the fireflies dance through the sky against the stars. You swear you can hear music from them.

“This is… This is beautiful…” “I am glad you enjoy it,” Malleus watches as you watch each step you take, the leaves below you glowing with each step. “Are you feeling better now?” “Yeah, I am… You know…” you pause nervously.

“Yes? What is it?” “It feels like… you're my only true friend…” The lightshow around you flickers for a moment. “Is that so…” Malleus stares wide eyed. “Yeah… Just… I can be kind to everyone… but I can't be friends with anyone. They all don't really get to know the real me, you know?” Malleus stares off.

“I do know that feeling well… You are my only friend…” You pause and look at him. The lights behind you turn to a more pinkish hue. “That's hard to believe, you are a wonderful person.” “Likewise, Child of Man. I would think someone as kind as you would have much more.”

You sniff, “I’ve been helping so many people, but it feels like…” You sigh. “I have seen the hard work you have put into everything. Not a lot of people can say they have gone through what you have gone through and won. You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

Malleus takes your hand. “I am sorry that others do not acknowledge that. I hope those around you soon start to realize what a blessing you are.” You squeeze his hand. “Come on, why don’t we both enjoy this light show?”

…

At the very last waltz, your legs feel like jelly, and you cannot tell if it's because of how happy you are or because you've been standing too long. You pull away gently. “Thank you Tsunotaro, for everything.” Malleus nods. “It was nothing. Thank you for being my friend.” He stares off to the sky for a moment. “Farewell, Child of Man, may the night be full of promise for you.”

The fae starts to fade away and you reach out, using a spell of your own. “Wait…” You hold onto Malleus’ arm making him appear again. The fae looks at you with shock. “You overrode my magic…” Malleus whispers, and his shocked face turns to one of awe and his eyes hint towards excitement. “No one has ever been able to do that… Just what else are you hiding, Child of Man?”

“I want to give you my name.” “Your name?” Malleus looks shocked once again. “My real name.” “Don't you know of the stories about giving your name to Fae?” “I know them, but I trust you. I know you would never hurt me.” Your expression and voice is so sure it nearly overwhelms the fae.

“You trust me that much? I could smite you with lightning in an instant.” “Then smite me.” Malleus paused and nothing happened. “See? I know you wouldn’t hurt me. You’ve had opportunities this entire time and you haven’t.” “You really want to tell me Child of Man? When I have not even given you my name?” Malleus' voice nearly shakes.

“You don't need to. But if you do, no matter what name comes out, I won't be afraid.” You take his hand, and for the first time since arriving, you introduce yourself, and you tell him your name, your real name.

“I see, what a wonderful name… I supposed I shall finally tell you mine as well.” The fae smiles, “Draconia. Malleus Draconia…” “Malleus? That's not too bad for yourself…” Malleus lets out a laugh at that. “I suppose not.” He smiles then looks off again. “Well then, friend… Thank you for everything tonight. I have not been this happy in a long time…”

“Good night, Malleus. I hope to see you again soon.”

“Good night, Child of Man…”

He fades out and you hear Maleficent speak to you. ‘He likes you.’ She says, and you hear a few voices teasing you. You chuckle and find the strength in you to go back into your dorm and confront tomorrow. Rook’s words from earlier echoes through your mind. You have found people you can truly open up to.

1K notes · View notes

glorious-spoon · 8 months ago

Text

a miserable pile of secrets [9-1-1 | Eddie Diaz & Hen Wilson | 1/1]

1.8K words | friendship | emotional hurt/comfort | implied/referenced cheating

a miserable pile of secrets [on AO3]

She finds Eddie up on the rooftop, which makes sense, given that Buck is currently working out his feelings on the heavy bag after Bobby finally snapped at the two of them to get their acts together unless they wanted to be benched. Chim's down in the weight room with him, which means that Hen is up here in the warm night air to talk some sense into the other half of their codependent little unit, who is currently perched on one of the folding chairs that they usually leave up here. He's as still as a statue, tense like he's afraid of what his body might do if he lets it move.

"Hey," Hen says, and he gives a jerky little nod of acknowledgement. "Mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead."

"Thanks." She pulls out one of the other chairs and sits down. "So."

"Bobby sent you."

"I sent myself," she corrects mildly, and watches Eddie's shoulders hunch a little. "I don't think I've ever seen you and Buck fight like that."

Though the truth is, she really only caught the tail end of it. Buck's frustrated voice rising on, "Do you hear yourself? How did you think this was going to work out? Have you even thought about Chris? What, you were just going to introduce him to her like—"

"Chris? Since when is how I parent my son any of your business?"

"I don't know, Eddie, you kind of made it my business when you put me in your fucking will!"

"Yeah, well, maybe that was a mistake!"

There was ringing silence in the wake of that. Then Buck said something quieter, inaudible from where Hen and Chim were standing frozen outside the locker room door, and Eddie spat, "Go to hell. I'm done talking about this."

The door slammed open and he stormed out, only pausing for a moment when he saw the two of them standing there. It wasn't until he'd already stomped up the stairs to the loft that Buck emerged, scowling.

"I don't want to talk about it," he snapped, before either of them could speak.

That was six hours ago. Neither of them has said a single word to each other since outside of the bare minimum on calls. The tension in the back of the truck has been thick enough to cut with a knife, and none of Chim's increasingly desperate jokes has done a damn thing to lighten the mood.

Hen doesn't blame Bobby for being fed up with the pair of them. She's caught somewhere between that and worry, herself. This isn't like them. Either of them.

Eddie shrugs again, tense. "I don't really feel like talking about it."

"Mm."

Hen kicks her legs out, relaxes into the chair and waits him out. It doesn't take long. Maybe two minutes before he lets out an angry little huff and says, "Marisol dumped me this morning."

"Oh," Hen says. That explains some of the mood, anyway. "Well, I'm sorry to—"

"I cheated on her. She found out."

She closes her mouth. For a moment she just looks at him: his tight jaw, his hands in fists on his thighs, so tense he looks like he's about to snap. Like looking through a warped mirror to a younger version of herself, and maybe that's why she manages some gentleness when she says, "That doesn't sound like you."

"Yeah. That's what Buck said. Shows what he knows."

"Why'd you do it?"

"It doesn't matter. It was stupid. I fucked up."

"If you're waiting on me to tell you otherwise, you'll be waiting a while." Eddie lets out a sharp, bitter little bark of laughter, and Hen adds. "I've been there, you know."

"Yeah. But it's not—Karen forgave you."

"Eventually, yeah. She didn't have to."

"Yeah," Eddie says, and then doesn't say anything else.

"Is that what you and Buck were fighting about?"

He shrugs again. Like talking to a damn teenager, Hen thinks. Not Denny, with his easy sweetness, but like one of the other kids who come through their home sometimes on temporary placements: already on the defensive, claws out, ready to fight.

"I guess," he mutters finally.

"You put him in your will?" Eddie scowls at her, and she shrugs. "Hey, if you want it to be a secret, maybe don't have your domestics at the top of your lungs in the locker room we all use."

He scoffs, clearly annoyed, but doesn't get up and storm off, so she's counting that as a win. Finally, he says, "Yeah. He's down as Chris's legal guardian if something happens to me. Since—uh, since I almost died in that well collapse a few years back."

Oh. Hen contemplates that for a moment, squares it up in her head with what she already knows about Eddie. It's not, she'll admit, completely out of left field. But still. "And you think maybe that was a mistake?"

Eddie groans, dropping his head back. "I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean it."

"Maybe you should tell Buck that."

"He's pissed at me."

"Seems mutual."

"Yeah," Eddie says, wry and still kind of irritated. But then he sighs. "You ever do something where you know the whole time you're doing it that it's going to blow up in your face, and somehow that still doesn't stop you?"

"Yep," Hen says, remembering a dark little motel room and the sharp cut of Eva's smile. A whole damn pile of fuck-ups, that relationship was, and she dragged it along with her to almost ruin the best thing in her life.

"I keep thinking I see Shannon. It's like she's just around the corner, like if I turn around fast enough, she'll be there, and I'll be able to go back and make it right. But I can't."

"No. You can't."

"It's been five fucking years."

"No timeline on grief."

"I went on a date with a woman just because she looked like her." Hen raises her eyebrows at him. He slouches lower in his seat. "A couple of dates. It—didn't end well."

"Mm. You mean because she turned out to be a whole damn person who wasn't Shannon, or because your girlfriend found out?"

"Both," Eddie mutters. "Believe me, I already heard it from Buck."

"Oh, I believe it."

"But he's—" Eddie snaps his mouth shut.

"Kind of a hypocrite on this particular subject?" Hen offers.

"That's not what I was going to say. He's with Tommy now. So."

"So?"

"Never mind. It doesn't matter."

Hen would dearly love to interrogate that line of thinking, but she keeps her mouth shut. For a little while, they don't speak. It's a transient kind of peace; their next call could come at any minute. But for now, the city's as quiet as it ever is, lit up and beautiful in the distance.

Eventually, Eddie shifts in his chair, straightens up like he's bracing for something, then says, abruptly, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

Hen raises her eyebrows. "Go ahead."

"Have you ever been with a guy?"

"Excuse me?"

"Forget it," he says quickly, hunching in on himself again. "I don't even know why I asked. You can tell me to go to hell."

She almost does tell him to go to hell. Has her mouth open and everything. But then she takes another good look at his face and lets the words dissipate.

"No," she says finally. "Kissed a couple of boys in high school, but I pretty much always knew it wasn't for me."

"Oh." Eddie's mouth twists. He's still staring a hole in the concrete by his feet, and Hen wishes like hell that this was easier for him, that he could have stumbled into it with wide eyes and open arms without leaving a trail of wreckage in his wake. Buck managed it, but it's not like that for everyone. She knows that.

"Karen was engaged to a man, you know," she says, and she watches him still, watches him turn, finally, to look at her.

"I didn't know that."

"It was a long time ago. College sweetheart. She called it off a week before the wedding. Broke his damn heart, from what I hear. Probably better in the long run, though, all things considered."

Eddie laughs at that, a raw, horrible little sound. "I was a bad husband to Shannon. I loved her so much, and I still could never—and I always thought that maybe, if we'd just had more time, maybe I could have gotten it right, and we could have been a family again, and it would have been okay."

"But she died."

"She asked me for a divorce."

"Oh." Hen takes a breath, lets it out. Careful, careful. "I didn't know that."

"Nobody knows that. I mean. Bobby does. But nobody else. Because she died two days later, so I never had to—to tell anyone. I never had to admit it. I could keep pretending. But it doesn't even matter, because I've also fucked up every relationship I've been in since. So it's kind of obvious where the problem is."

"Mm. You know what my mama used to say?"

Eddie cuts her a look. "What?"

"Get down from that cross, we need the wood."

When he laughs this time, it sounds a little more real. Hen nudges her knee against his, and for a minute they sit there together in silence.

"I fucked up," he says again, but it's calmer.

"Yep."

"What the hell do I say to Buck?"

Not Marisol, Hen notes. Though the truth is she's pretty sure that whole relationship was dead and gone long before whatever went down this morning. Maybe from the very beginning. Eddie's just got a bad habit of dragging those corpses around. "Sorry might be a good start."

"He's gonna ask why. I don't have a good answer. I can't—" He looks over at her, and all Hen can think is that he looks so damn young. "I can't."

"So tell him that. You know he's not gonna push it."

"Yeah, he will."

"He's worried about you."

Eddie scoffs. "Yeah."

That was, Hen surmises what the fight was about in the first place. Unstoppable force, immovable object. Sometimes she wishes she could just knock their stubborn heads together until they showed some sense.

"He loves you," she says, and Eddie flinches.

"I know that," he mutters.

Hen sighs. "Just talk to him. You don't have to tell him anything you're not ready to tell him, but just—talk to him. Okay? For all our sakes."

"Yeah, okay," Eddie says, sounding defeated. "Sorry about that."

"We'll survive," Hen says. She bumps her knee against his again, and they sit there together in silence, watching the city lights, until the bell starts going off below.

#911 #911 fic #eddie diaz #hen wilson #my fic

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striveattemptfail · 2 months ago

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maybe it's a little too early (to know if this is gonna work) | Logan Howlett/Wade Wilson, 5.2k, M

@poolverine-week: Day 6 – Sharing Clothes

Summary: Five times Wade steals wears Logan's clothes, and one time Logan wears Wade's suit. Rated for allusions to sex, but nothing explicit. Takes place some time after the movie’s events; assume Logan and Wade are back-up X-Men. Read on Ao3

A/N: Thank you to B @broosepayne for helping out with random details + thank you to @fuckselfloveihatemyself for suggesting "impersonation" for the final scene. Shout out to the Manga Hoes server for listening to me bitch about finishing this fic lol. Un-beta'd and I apologize /o\ Title from You Look Good In My Shirt by Keith Urban—just be grateful I didn't give this fic the exact same name lmaooo

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[ Wardrobe Status: Nothing / Wearing Wade’s Clothes ]

The first morning he wakes up in Wade’s timeline—his new universe—Logan has on nothing but a t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off and a pair of highlighter pink Hello Kitty boxers. He desperately needs something to wear aside from what are basically undergarments because he came into this world with nothing but his X-Men suit.

Or what’s left of it anyway.

Which is why, once he finally gets up from the pull-out bed, he sees Wade trying on the jacket that the TVA gave him after they destroyed the Time Ripper. Wade is in front of the only full-size mirror in the apartment, twisting his body every which way to inspect the jacket.

Then, he catches Logan’s reflection in the mirror.

“Morning, peanut!” he greets, turning around to face him with a smile. “I’m trying this on to see how it fits on me.”

“Uh, yeah. I see that,” Logan says with brows furrowed. “Why?”

“I was thinking about grabbing you some clothes but need a reference for your size.”

“Bub, that jacket is too big even for me.”

“...okay, yeah,” Wade eventually concedes, “but it’s the only thing you own that isn’t shredded to pieces from the Time Ripper.”

Unfortunately, the moron has a point. As it is, the boxers Wade loaned him are a bit tight on his waist, and the collar of the shirt is snug on his neck, but it’s not like Logan’s in any position to complain.

“I have to swing by Target to grab supplies for Dogpool anyway,” Wade continues before making kissy faces at the dog in question. “We need to get you some treats, huh, little missy? Yeah! And then we’ll get honey badger some clothes that actually fit him!”

And, well, it’s not like Logan is keen on stepping outside of this apartment in the brightest colour he’s ever worn in his over 200-year existence. It’s also not like he even has the funds to buy himself a hotdog from the street vendor around the corner, much less purchase anything for a new wardrobe. So if Wade wants to go out and buy some clothes for him, Logan isn’t going to stop him.

He grunts his assent as he makes his way to the kitchen, muttering a gruff Fine as he starts on a cup of coffee.

Later, when Wade leaves for Target, Logan grabs the now tossed aside TVA jacket.

If he happens to take a sniff of it once Wade’s out the door (inhaling the scent of cloyingly sweet body wash, hot sauce, and something Logan is fast recognizing as Wade), it’s simply because he wants to know whether it already stinks after yesterday’s events.

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[ Wardrobe Status: One Load of Staples ]

Luckily for Logan, Peter and Dopinder volunteered to help Wade clothes shop when he went to Target. Apparently, Wade wanted to buy all sorts of brightly coloured cutesy shit—like much of his own clothing, allegedly so the two of them could match—but Peter and Dopinder manage to rein him in and grab a few staples. T-shirts, jeans, sweatpants, boxers, socks, and a pair of shoes that’ll fall apart in about a month if Logan has to guess.

It’s enough for him to survive on until he can buy more clothes, and enough to produce a load of laundry once the day arrives. Luckily, the apartment has a washer-dryer combo in the unit, so he finishes the single, meagre load of clothes he owns in no time. He’s bringing them to the bedroom to put away when he finds Wade already inside, standing there in nothing but the smallest pair of tighty-whities Logan’s ever seen on a man.

“What the fuck,” is all he can say.

“Hey, honey badger!” Wade greets, normal as ever, as if he’s not exposing miles of skin and taut muscle that Logan would love to—

He messily dumps his clothes onto the bed, scowling at Wade.

“Why the fuck are you naked?” he demands.

“Oh, please, I’m hiding all the goods,” Wade brushes him off. He turns back to the heap of clothes on the hamper, presumably to find something that doesn’t smell like wet dog or weeks old nastiness.

Shit. The damn briefs aren’t even large enough to completely cover Wade’s ass, and Logan can see a hint of cheeks peeking through.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Logan rolls his eyes, hoping that his frown hides the conflict inside him.

With a smirk that can only spell trouble, Wade faces him again to thumb at the waistband of his underwear. “Would you rather I take them off?”

Logan snarls, averting his gaze to the small mound of clothes he has to put away. He angrily starts folding things, breath coming out in huffs that he hopes convey annoyance.

“Jeez, who pissed in your coffee this morning, kitty cat?” Wade complains, letting go of the waistband. “It’s not like I’m rubbing one out in front of you.”

“Shut the fuck up, bub,” Logan spits, throwing down another folded shirt.

The problem—like most things—is because of Wade.

It’s hard enough to share any amount of space with him, much less sleep in the same bed together every night, and Logan’s only a man. He might be too proud to admit it out loud (especially to a blabber mouth like Wade), but god fucking damnit somehow the fucker’s gotten under his skin. He makes Logan crave for more than innocently spooning in the early hours of the morning, want more than stolen glances when he thinks Wade isn’t looking.

It doesn’t help that Wade flirts with him constantly. People used to chastise Logan for how aggressively he pursued Jean back in the day. Now, he knows it’s nothing compared to the constant boner Wade has towards anything that speaks to him.

Logan needs to stop this train of thought—thinking about Wade’s boner is only going encourage his own.

“So, why are you naked?” he asks, probably angrier than acceptable for a conversation like this but, fuck, does Wade bring out the asshole in him.

“Technically, I’m not—”

“Fine, almost naked, you annoying prick.”

He looks up to find Wade with narrowed eyes, shooting him a dubious look that can only say, Are you serious?

“Obviooouslyyy,” he drawls out, rifling through the hamper again, “I thought I had more clothes left.”

Logan looks at the mountain Wade’s digging through. “Wait, you’re completely out of clean clothes? How the fuck did that happen?”

“I don’t know!” Wade throws his hands up in exasperation. “Ask the author!”

“I have no idea what that means,” he admits. “Anyway, why are you only in underwear?”

“What? You want me to steal some of Blind Al’s shit?” Wade pauses then, clearly mulling it over. “Actually, now that I think about it, her tracksuits would look great on me. They’d fit like baby clothes on a high schooler but it could be like a Y2K revival. Juicy Couture à la Wade. I’d smell like mothballs and old lady all day but it’d be worth it, I think!” He ends the rambling with a toothy grin.

Logan doesn’t dignify that with a response. He scrubs a hand over his face with a sigh.

“Just... put on some damn clothes, bub.”

“Fine.”

Wade—probably in an attempt to piss him the fuck off, as usual—stares at him with a piercing gaze, maintaining eye contact with Logan as he grabs a white t-shirt from the folded pile and slides it on.

Logan just glares at him, jaw clenching tight.

The worst part is that he’s not even mad that Wade’s grabbing shit that he just folded. For some fucking reason, there’s a small but very loud part of Logan deeply satisfied to see Wade in his clothes again. He hasn’t worn anything of Logan’s since trying on the TVA jacket that first day home, but seeing him in one of Logan’s tees is apparently doing something for him.

Wade spins in place, and Logan notices that the hem of the t-shirt barely covers Wade’s crotch, skims the peak of Wade’s pert ass. Once he faces Logan again, he pinches the sides of the shirt like he’s holding a skirt, dipping into a small curtsy.

“Is that better, oh, prudent majesty?” he taunts.

Logan finally snaps.

Before he’s even conscious of it, he’s striding over to where Wade is still staring at him, his expression turning confused though still playful.

“Woah, big boy, I didn’t think you’d be that pissed—”

Logan grabs his face and cuts him off with a kiss, Wade making a surprised noise against his mouth before finally kissing back. Even though Logan is leading, Wade still gives as good as gets, his tongue darting into the cavern of Logan’s mouth when he gasps for air. He’s not sure how long they suck face for, but when Logan finally pulls away, a satisfied noise rumbles through his chest at Wade’s stunned but amused face.

“Finally got you to shut up,” Logan teases, words coming out shallow and thin.

“Oh, it’ll take a lot more than that, old man,” Wade quips back, and another purr builds in Logan’s chest when he hears the gravel in Wade’s voice. Wade throws his arms over Logan’s shoulders and crashes their lips together again.

Neither of their laundry gets finished for a long while after that, both of them too caught up in seeking pleasure from each other. Most of Logan’s freshly laundered clothes lie wrinkled on the bed for hours until he remembers to put them away. Wade doesn’t even start on his own laundry until Logan tells him that Althea would definitely kick his ass if he wore her stuff.

But he continues wearing Logan’s shirt until his own clothes are finally clean, so Logan can’t complain at all.

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[ Wardrobe Status: Half Complete + A New Suit ]

They’re suiting up for an X-Men mission when Wade snatches the Wolverine cowl before Logan can put it on. He’s still in the middle of zipping up when he spots Wade grabbing it out of the corner of his eye, and he doesn’t even need to turn around to know that the dipshit’s already wearing it.

“Give it back,” he says absentmindedly, buckling in the last straps of his suit.

He turns around and shoots Wade a flat look, correct in his assumption that Wade put it on. Typical Wade, he’s wearing his Deadpool mask underneath the Wolverine cowl.

“How do I look?” Wade asks, voice lilting with anticipation.

He looks like someone threw up primary colours on his head and decided to call it a mask.

“You look like someone threw up primary colours on your head and decided to call it a mask.”

Wade gasps, clearly offended. “Rude!”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Just hand me my fuckin’ cowl, bub.”

“Mmmmm, no.”

He never makes shit easy. Logan can only sigh.

“Wade, we gotta leave for the mission brief,” Logan reminds him. They’re about to leave on time for once, and that never happens. “Gimme my goddamn cowl.”

Wade ignores him, as he often does, sauntering over to Logan with a sway in his hips, and Logan quirks a brow at him. He knows what that walk means, and suddenly heading to the X-Mansion for a mission is becoming the last thing on his mind.

Wade drapes his arms over Logan’s shoulders, and Logan automatically places his hands on Wade’s hips. Even beneath both masks, Logan can tell that Wade is waggling his non-existent eyebrows at him once they’re pressed close together. “Wanna inspect the wind resistance on these blowjob handles yourself, peanut?”

Logan snorts. “No, because I don’t wanna see my own mask sucking my dick.”

“Aww,” Wade whines, and Logan can hear the pout in his voice even if he can’t see it, “you’re no fun!”

“‘Sides,” Logan murmurs in his ear, low and sultry, as he pulls Wade closer, “I like seeing your face when we’re together, bub.”

He moves a hand from Wade’s waist to slightly lift his Deadpool mask at the collar. He then ducks his face into the curve where Wade’s neck meets shoulder, mouthing at the now exposed skin there. He smirks when he feels the catch in Wade’s throat.

“I thought we had to leave for the mission brief?” Wade mocks, but it comes out breathy and very pleased by the turn of events.

Logan hums mischievously, nipping at Wade’s neck. “Don’t give a shit anymore.”

“Cool cool cool,” Wade babbles, body pressing against Logan’s, all hot and eager. “I just—oh, fuck, honey badger—I was just thinking—”

“If yer thinking, then I ain’t doin’ this right,” he grumbles, words starting to slur together because there’s something else he’d much rather be doing with his mouth. The hand he still has on Wade’s waist travels to his crotch. Wade bucks his hips into Logan’s open palm with a husky groan, already half-hard.

“You’re doing everything so, so right,” Wade gasps, hips rutting into his grip. “It’s just—ngh—you better be the one taking off this suit, because I did not spend five whole minutes and half a thing of baby powder squeezing my ass into it just to—oh, shit!—strip it off again.”

With a final lick to his pulse point, Logan pulls away just enough to look at Wade. He smirks at the way Wade is panting, puffs of breath hitting his face in needy bursts despite the fabric covering Wade’s mouth.

“I gotta take off your clothes?” he confirms. Wade nods jerkily. “S’not a problem with me.”

And he drops to his knees, unbuckling Wade’s utility belt to do just that.

They do eventually get to the X-Mansion—just 30 minutes late, and they completely miss the briefing. Colossus looks at both of them in disappointment when he relays the abridged version of the mission objectives while they fly to their destination on the X-Jet. Frankly, Logan only half listens to the giant, completely unapologetic in his lack of focus. Being distracted is well worth it as he mulls over the events of the past hour.

Because Logan discovers that, while he might not get off on seeing his own cowl blowing him, he doesn’t mind when he’s on his knees looking up to see it thrown back in pleasure.

At least as long as Wade’s the one wearing it.

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[ Wardrobe Status: Signature Items Acquired ]

The next time they leave together, it’s to meet Vanessa and Dermot for bowling. Logan’s ready before Wade is, waiting in the living room because apparently how long it takes Wade to decide on an outfit completely depends on how he’s feeling.

Thankfully, today isn’t too awful. He’d only worn the Deadpool mask in the morning because he, quote, “felt like skewered chicken intestines,” and nearly cancelled on bowling altogether. But after an orgasm from Logan and cuddling from Mary Puppins, his mood had turned around.

All of which means that Wade is now in a mad dash pulling an outfit together. Logan knows better than to try and help him or force him to hurry up, so he’s left on the couch quietly grumbling to Mary about how he thinks Wade looks good in basically everything he wears.

He’s proven absolutely right when Wade finally steps out of the bedroom. Logan barely registers the full outfit because he’s completely focused on one item.

“How do I look?” Wade asks with a sly grin, walking over to the mirror to inspect himself. He twirls in front of his reflection while smoothing down the leather of the jacket he’s wearing.

Logan’s jacket.

He’s unable to put words together with the way his brain is currently short-circuiting. He grunts in response anyway, knowing that Wade will keep talking even if he doesn’t reply verbally.

He’s proven right yet again because Wade continues without missing a beat. “You think I should switch styles? Give yours back and get my own? Jackets aren’t really my thing though... Oh! What if I got a cape instead? It’d help for ‘no capes’ AUs to actually shed a cape, huh? Has there ever been a DP with a cape? I don’t remember seeing one when we fought the Corps.”

He hums a contemplative sound as Logan stands up from the couch, making his way over to Wade.

“Maybe I need to test trial this,” he continues to ramble, “maybe I can borrow Cable’s shawl-cape thing!”

Even Logan is surprised when he immediately interrupts Wade’s babbling with a stern: “No.”

Wade’s eyes snap to his, confused by the sudden harshness and increased volume in his tone. He makes a questioning noise and shoots Logan a displeased look.

Remembering that Wade will only ramp up how annoying he is if Logan bosses him around, he shakes his head and tries again. “I mean, just—you can, uh, keep mine.”

He clears his throat, eyes darting away to take in how the jacket fits on Wade. It’s a little loose on him, a little too broad because Logan’s chest is a bit wider than his, but it sits well on his frame nonetheless. After awkwardly patting Wade on the shoulder, Logan’s hand slides to Wade’s bicep, then down to cuff where Logan thumbs at the leather there. His fingers bump Wade’s hand and he feels electrified by the touch.

When their eyes meet again, Logan’s relieved to find Wade’s face as red as his own cheeks feel. He’s not entirely sure who leans in first but their lips meet halfway. The kiss isn’t demanding or dirty, neither of them trying to turn it into something that would lead to sex for once. It’s different from when they usually make out, just soft and lingering, and Wade gasps when Logan’s tongue gently licks at the seam of his lips.

At some point, they wrap their arms around each other, because when they finally part for air Wade’s cupping Logan’s jaw and his hands are on the small of Wade’s back.

He eventually grumbles out, “Keep it, it suits you.”

“Oh.”

It takes a moment for Wade to shake the dazed look off his face, but he recovers by flashing Logan a knowing grin. Logan rolls his eyes fondly.

Of course, the little shit did it on purpose. He should’ve known the moment Wade stepped out with that giant smile.

Afterwards, when they finally meet with Vanessa and Dermot at the bowling alley, Vanessa’s smirk and raised eyebrow are well worth it because Wade keeps the jacket on.

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[ Wardrobe Status: Full Closet ]

Logan’s been gone for almost a month because of an extended X-Men mission. Between stakeouts, recon, strategizing, and actually nabbing the bad guy, it’s the longest he’s been away since Wade and Althea’s apartment became his home.

He walks in and unceremoniously dumps his duffle bag and the rest of shit by his shoes, throwing his keys on the sidetable by the door. Despite it being well into the afternoon, the apartment is surprisingly quiet. He figures Althea is out for “bingo” (likely a coke exchange) but Wade and Mary Puppins’ lack of noise makes him suspicious.

Until he hears the snoring.

He pads over to the pull-out bed to find Wade and Mary napping together. Wade’s curled around her, snoring with his face buried in her very sparse amount of fur, and Mary’s tongue sticks out as she huffs out quiet, little snuffles of her own.

But what catches Logan’s attention is Wade wearing one of his flannels.

It’s one of the thickest he owns, made for colder weather and blistery autumn breezes, a dusty yellow and blue with snap buttons. It’s large on him—like everything else Logan owns whenever Wade wears his clothes—but this particular flannel is loose on Logan, so the fabric almost drowns Wade in a pattern of faded checks.

And like every time the moron steals his crap to wear, Logan’s stomach flips in a way he can no longer ignore.

He’s not sure if they’re exclusive or not. They fall into bed together as easily as they fight side-by-side on missions. But it’s impossible for Logan to tell if Wade is serious about half the flirtations streaming out of his mouth when the idiot’s easy affection gets directed at anyone that looks at him twice.

And as much as he’s loathe to admit it, Logan wants so much more than that. He wants Wade’s lingering looks to mean something other than platonic nothings. He wants the softer kisses they share to be more than a break from sex. He wants Wade to need him the way Logan needs him. Hell, he wants Wade to annoy him in ways that Wade would never bother anyone else, because at least then Logan would know that he means something different to the motherfucker, something more than a roommate he hooks up with.

He wants just Wade, all of him, full stop.

He gingerly sits on the mattress, trying not to jostle the two napping Deadpools too much with his weight, and he reaches over to gently stroke Wade’s cheek with a thumb. Feeling emboldened when Wade doesn’t stir, he leans down to press his lips onto Wade’s forehead.

“Well, g’morning to y’too, honey badger,” Wade slurs at him, voice thick with sleep.

Logan abruptly jerks away, eyes wide, and the movement is enough to jostle Mary Puppins from her slumber. She hops off to nap in her own bed after a grumpy growl, leaving Wade alone on the mattress. He attempts to swallow the sudden lump in his throat before clearing it with a cough.

“S’four in the afternoon,” Logan mumbles. Pinching his lips into a flat line, he awkwardly sits next to Wade rustling around in the sheets. His eyes catch the flannel falling open to reveal that Wade is also wearing one of his tank tops.

Logan takes a deep, stuttering breath.

Eyes still closed, Wade blindly flaps his hand around until finding purchase on Logan’s shirt. He tugs Logan back down, and Logan curls over to kiss him softly.

“Welcome home, peanut,” Wade breathes onto his lips. “Missed you.”

He touches his nose to Wade’s. “Missed ya too, bub.”

Wade’s face splits into a slow, easy grin, pulling Logan into laying down. Logan follows him without a thought, gathering Wade into his arms.

“You’re wearin’ my clothes again,” he whispers.

Wade hums, nuzzling into his chest. “S’cold, and it smells like you.”

A pleased purr escapes Logan before he has a chance to stop it, and Wade giggles at him, kissing his collarbone before falling right back to sleep.

They don’t talk about what they are after that, but it’s at that moment when Logan finally realizes that maybe, somehow, Wade feels the same way about him too.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

[ Wardrobe Status: Wearing Wade’s Clothes (Again) ]

The TVA brings them in because they need help with some lady going after Deadpool variants. It would be a fruitless endeavour since Deadpools can’t die (well, except Nicepool) if it weren’t for the fact that the fucker apparently stole a weapon that disintegrates things to oblivion.

“Shouldn’t the law of physics stop that from happening?” Wade asks, gesturing at the screen when B-15 presents the mission to them. “‘Matter can’t be created or destroyed’ or something like that?”

“That’s energy, idiot,” Logan corrects him.

Wade just shrugs. “Hey, don’t blame me for failing physics twice!”

He turns to Wade with a confused grimace. “Who else would I blame then?”

“The teachers, duh!”

“Anyway,” B-15 interrupts, hitting a button to show another slide, “this variant’s got a fascination for destroying the indestructible, but she’s going after Deadpools because she has tritanopia, or blue-yellow colour blindness. She can see shades of red the easiest, hence, sticking with Deadpools as her target.”

“That’s so stupid,” Wade says and Logan can only agree. “There are, like, dozens immortal superheroes in red and she chooses li’l ole me? Seems like the writer copping out of coming up with a better plot, I-M-O.”

“We also believe Mary was double-crossed by the Deadpool in her timeline, giving further motive to go after his variants.”

“Hmph! Now isn’t that just convenient?” He crosses his arms. “Wait, ‘Mary’?”

“Yes.” B-15 shows another slide, this one a close-up of the woman—Mary’s—face. “She’s a Typhoid Mary variant. Have either of you encountered her before?”

“Not in my world,” Logan answers.

“I admittedly did not keep up with Netflix’s Daredevil long enough to meet Bloody Mary, no,” Wade says.

B-15 presents them with further details: Typhoid Mary’s known abilities and weaknesses; how she has dissociative identity disorder on top of her colour blindness; how she managed to acquire the worst weapon available from the arms dealers she was supposed to take down; how her alter apparently took over and decided to go after invincible mutants until she finally got even with her world’s Deadpool. The TVA did try to intervene, but she ended up killing every agent that went after her before stealing one of their TemPads and consequently going on her multiversal manhunt. B-15 makes it absolutely clear how imperative it is that they do not kill Mary or destroy the weapon so the TVA can keep them both under tabs.

Then, she reveals the TVA’s plan to capture her: They want Logan to pose as a Deadpool variant in the timeline they believe she’s going to strike next. Typhoid Mary’s current M.O. doesn’t account for superstrength so he should be able to break out of anything she traps him in. Meanwhile, Wade will be in the shadows, using a tranquillizer gun to incapacitate her once she’s busy with Logan.

Logan groans internally while Wade claps his hands in delight.

“Ooh!” he practically squeals, patting Logan on the shoulder with unrestrained excitement. “Finally, it’s my turn on the other side of this trope!”

B-15 shakes her head and sends them on their way.

The suit the TVA provides him fits perfectly, and he notes Wade’s heated, lingering gaze on him once he steps out of the dressing room. Luckily, another agent gets them through a portal before Wade starts on a tirade that would no doubt be filled with inappropriate innuendoes about Logan.

The mission is executed almost laughably easy. Typhoid Mary’s telekinetic and telepathic abilities are so low-level Logan’s shocked that the others she went after were able to be taken down so quickly.

(“Plot armour, peanut,” Wade said when Logan had asked B-15 about this. “She needed to last long enough to meet us!” As usual, Logan had chosen to ignore him.)

Like the TVA discovered, she lures Deadpools by spreading rumours he can’t ignore, adding a honeypot stash filled with weapons he loves. Geared up in Wade’s suit, Logan “falls” for her trap: entering an abandoned warehouse meant to shelter an upcoming gang targeting Deadpool, but secretly only houses her. Once Logan finds the crate of weapons meant to entice Wade, Typhoid Mary wastes no time in capturing him. She points a giant ray-gun of sorts at his face after wrapping him in the warehouse’s chains with her telekinesis.

He feels the faintest compulsion to stay still, which is probably her telepathy trying to subdue him. But she’s nowhere near the level of other telepaths Logan’s encountered, like Jean or Cassandra Nova, and the compulsion is easy to ignore. The chains are slightly harder to deal with in comparison, but he’s certain he can get out of them without too much trouble. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Wade moving into place.

During Logan’s silent assessment of the situation, Typhoid Mary apparently began monologuing. He doesn’t let her get a chance to finish though, breaking out of the bonds around his torso with sheer force and grunting at the exertion. He slices the chains around his ankles with his claws, the metal cutting like butter against the adamantium.

“What?!” she screams. “A Wolverine-Deadpool variant? How?!”

Logan doesn’t even open his mouth for a reply because Wade shoots a tranq dart in her neck. She falls to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Wooh! No scope oneshot K/O, baby!” he hollers, skipping over to pick up the weapon Typhoid Mary dropped. “God, I’d love to take this home with us,” he bemoans as he assesses it, “I can finally stick it to Cable and show off my own badass, futuristic gun!”

“That won’t be necessary,” B-15 announces, suddenly next to them. A group of armed TVA agents begin to file in from the portal behind her, a few of them attempting to grab the weapon from Wade while others lift Typhoid Mary away for custody.

The aftermath of the mission would be just as easy if isn’t for Wade bitching about giving up the gun. After B-15 debriefs them, she and Logan spend entirely too long demanding that Wade hand it to her.

“I’ll give it back if we can keep this suit for pookie here,” Wade eventually offers, pointing at Logan.

“What?” Logan asks. The suit’s not bad but he has no reason to wear it again once he takes it off. “Why—?”

“Deal,” B-15 immediately agrees.

Wade begrudgingly relinquishes the gun, giving it a flying kiss goodbye before taking Logan’s hand. B-15 opens a portal to their apartment and guides them through. “Thanks for the help, gentlemen!” she says, waving a hand at them. They both wave back, and the portal closes.

Logan looks down at the Deadpool suit he’s still wearing. “Why the hell did you want—mmph!”

His lips are suddenly bombarded with hot kisses, and he growls when Wade opens his mouth his tongue. He didn’t even notice that Wade took off his mask.

“God, you look so fucking good in my colours,” Wade moans, hands roaming all over Logan’s body. “Is this how you feel whenever I wear your things?” Logan makes a noise of assent, too busy mouthing at Wade’s jaw to give a proper answer. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

Logan starts moving them towards the bed—Christ, he hopes Althea is gone because there’s no way he’s stopping what Wade’s started. His cock is already taking interest, and only gets harder when Logan bumps his hips into Wade’s. They tumble onto the pull-out in a feverish heat with Logan straddling Wade’s thighs.

He’s licking at Wade’s pulse when the dumbass gasps, “Oh my god, I’m gonna fuck a variant of myself.”

Used to Wade’s non-stop yammering even during sex, Logan mindlessly replies, “‘S still me, bub, I ain’t a variant of you.” Foolishly, he adds, “Besides, that’d be weird.”

“What? Why?”

With Wade groping his ass, Logan actually has to pause getting his hands under Wade’s suit to think about an answer.

He finally lands on: “It’d be like fucking your own clone.”

Wade actually stops everything he’s doing—hands no longer kneading his cheeks, mouth pulling away from him. Logan groans, knowing his brought this on himself, and dips his forehead to rest on Wade’s shoulder.

“What? You wouldn’t?”

“No, because that’s weird.”

“I’d fuck my clone.”

“Course you would.”

“T-B-H, I’m so pro-clone fucking I’d just have an orgy with all of them. Who’d be better to fuck me than me, right?”

This, by far, is one of—if not the—stupidest conversation Logan’s ever had with a person. Somehow, his dick doesn’t flag, and he’s still irrevocably fond of Wade’s random chatter. He kisses Wade before he can start on another tangent, cupping his perfect idiot’s face softly.

“Shut the fuck up,” he says, but knowing the smile he’s got on, Wade isn’t going to listen to him.

Wade’s answering smirk is a challenge. “Make me, peanut.”

——————————————

(More notes on Ao3.)

#poolverine week 2024 #poolverine week #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool & wolverine #dp&w #deadpool #wolverine #poolverine #peanutbub #deadclaws #wolverpool #wade wilson #logan howlett #hunter b-15 #judge b-15 #jercy attempts words #fanfic #.i swear i wanted to post this on time for day 6 but time is a construct that i do not follow (ie: i messed up my dates lsdfjjlfsdjlkdfs)#.oh well better late than pregn—i mean never LMFAO

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mother-na · 1 year ago

Text

Yandere Policeman!Gojo X Reader X Yandere Policeman!Geto!

A one-shot set in a world where Jujutsu Sorcerers are replaced with a police unit and Curses are just a nuisance. With Gojo and Geto as policeman, you're bound to be caught somehow, since you're a mischievous curse! [Fem Reader]

Warnings!: Dubious Consent, Oral (both F and M receiving and giving), pet names (sweetheart, little curse), virgin reader, spit roasting, praise kink, lmk if I’m missing anything!

MDNI

NOT proof read or edited

You've been having so much fun! Being a human is a boring experience. You have to work to eat and then you just sleep, but not when you're a curse!

As a curse, you just run around, stealing whatever food you want and sleeping where ever you please. What does it matter? Nobody can see you anyway!

Or so you thought. Lately you've been staying in a mall. During the day you eat all the food in there, pet the animals in the pet shops, and ride the kiddy trains with the kids! And then you get to sleep in the mattress store with the poor night shift worker!

You know you haven't been well behaved, but to think that somebody would call the police!

You planned to stay and exploit the mall and leave at the first sign of danger, but you'd accidentally met them and changed your mind…

It was late at night and most people had already left. You'd figured you'd grab a muffin, one of your favorite treats, but sneaking through the staff hall, you'd noticed a handsome man staring at you.

His ridiculously blue eyes caught you off guard for a few reasons. For one, who has eyes that blue? And for two, why were they looking at you?

It took you a moment, but you soon realized that this man was of the policemen sent to subdue you.

You didn't run though. You thought maybe you could trick him into not killing you. Though most policemen just drive away curses instead of killing them.

But you've just about the seductive skill of puppy because rather than doing something flirtatious like flipping up your skirt you… jumped.

Yes jumped, like a dog getting ready to play, your legs firm on the ground and your back bent forward. Which, to be fair, as a curse you've never been able to understand sexual behaviors. You're just a mischievous curse, nothing more and nothing less.

Though, to your surprise, the man didn't have a negative reaction or one of even surprise. Instead, he gave half a chuckle, before mirroring you movements.

He jumped and leaned over just like you were, spreading his legs just like yours.

You couldn't help yourself after that! He's was basically inviting you to play!

You gave another little jump, and he jumped to, an amused smile in his face.

“You're so playful, for a curse,” The man spoke, his hands on his knees, “very human as well.”

You didn't quite understand what he meant, you couldn't look in mirrors or take photos of yourself so you've no idea you look human.

Still, you couldn't help but giggle. He should just shut up and play with you!

You turned your back on him, looking over your shoulder and swaying a little, inviting him to chase you.

“You wanna play? You sure?” the man chuckled, a boyish grin on his face, “Silly Curse, you don’t really think you have a chance, do you?”

You'd thought it'd be fun! And you were very very wrong for a bit there.

The man turned out to be significantly faster then you. You only got away because you morphed through the floor!

It was so scary! One moment it was all fun and games and the next his footsteps are right behind you! You could hear him panting and breathing, his large slender hand hovering just behind your neck.

Terrifying!

You'd thought he was the only one there that night, but you were wrong about that to!

As you caught your non-existent breath and drank some apple juice from one of the kitchens, you were caught by yet another one!

It was only thirty or so minutes later, just how fast were these guys moving?

“I guess Satoru was telling the truth.” a smooth voice spoke from behind you, almost making you drop your juice in surprise.

You huff, why are these people doing this? What jerks.

Taking another drink of your juice, you stick your tongue out.

“Aren’t you childish? Come here.” The man with black hair spoke, soothingly almost, stretching out his arms like he was inviting you.

You knew exactly what this was! He thinks that just because your a little childish that he can just beckon you and you'd listen! Stupid!

With a cocky attitude, you took steps back.

Right into the other’s arms.

Hooking his surprisingly thick arms underneath your armpits, trapping you against his chest. Was the blue eyed one from before!

“Geez Suguru, you almost scared her off! Scary~!” the man holding you teased.

The other man, Suguru, approached, ready to exorcise you, “Lets just hurry this up.”

You held your breath, preparing for your seemingly inevitable end.

But it never happened.

With sudden force, the man holding you lifted you with his arms under your pits, effectively swinging you to his side so his partner couldn't kill you.

“Or~ we can do something else!” the white-haired man proposed.

Suguru’s face changed to one of disgust, almost comically, “Whatever you about to suggest, please think it through…” the man basically pleaded. Poor guy must deal with his partner's nonsense often.

“I propose that we let this curse run around for just a little~ while longer. You know how the higher-ups are, they know we're the best so they plan to have us running errands till we drop, not that we’re at any risk of dying to curses like these~,” the man nuzzled his face playfully against yours, or perhaps it was meant to be condescending?

“So you just want to shirk your responsibilities then?” Suguru surmised.

“Right on the money~! Come on, you can't tell me it doesn't sound tempting.” the man squished his warm cheek against yours and gave the other man his best attempt at puppy eyes.

“C’mon, you smile too. It's your life on the line.” the white haired man spoke, to which you have an awkward smile.

Suguru looked at you two with a tired expression, pinching the bridge of his nose with light fingers.

“Fine.”

And with that, the three of you had an agreement!

It’s been couple weeks since and you’ve completely forgotten your plan to leave.

How could you not, the two policemen spoiled you! Suguru, or Geto, would give you all the attention you wanted, albeit passively.

You could lay in his warm lap and pet your head gently.

He didn’t warm up to you at first, but the more he witnessed your simple behaviors, he too could not help finding your antics amusing.

The other one, whom you discovered was Satoru Gojo, was more of a gift giver than a cuddler, strangely enough.

Sure, he was touchy, but only to tease you. Otherwise, he’d often give you snacks and treats to keep you out of causing more trouble. The more trouble, the more you convinced their superiors that you were more than they could handle.

In the day you got to lay at their feet and be fed and given attention and during the night they’d let you curl up with them in the break room.

You’d honestly thought you had something special…

“Yeah yeah… I know…. No we don’t need backup… yup, yeah. Goodbye.” You heard Gojo mumble into a phone as you eavesdropped on the other side of the door.

“They want us out of here by tonight.” Gojo relayed simply, tossing the phone to Geto who was deep in thought.

“Figures. We have been here a long time.”

“Guess so… ugh, we’ve no choice then. We’ll take care of [Reader] tonight.”

And that was all the go to you needed. You scrambled right out of there!

It’s not like you needed to eat, so you just skipped your usual lunch with the two of them.

You wanted to collect what few belongings you had but… you just couldn’t find them! Your blanket and pillow were both gone! You’ve had them since you appeared in this world.

They were nowhere to be seen! The sun was setting and the store closing… and you still couldn’t find your stuff. In the end, you had to leave it.

“[Reader]~! Where the hell’d you go…?” You could hear Gojo call for you.

Whatever, you thought, they’re planning on killing you so why should you care if they were upset about it or not, you should be upset not them!

Sneaking out to the parking lot, you sulked a bit. There were no cars in the parking lot except the one police car belonging to the duo inside tucked around the corner.

Maybe you could go pop their tires or tear up their seats! It’s not a bad idea.

Hurrying around the corner to get your measly revenge you spotted their spacious black car. It wasn’t one designed to take the arrested since they were in a curse unit so it was quite big. Kinda like a van.

Peering in the front seats it was clear who the designated driver was. The drivers seat was spotless but the passenger had some fast food wrappers at the feet of it.

The image of Gojo absolutely downing several cheese burgers in the passenger seat as Geto watches in annoyance painted a rather hilarious scenario.

Still, you’d come to tear up their car! Looking at it, it’s a fairly new and pristine black car. Though they’ll be needing a better car when you’re done!

Fazing your hand through the front door, you unlocked the door with ease and crawled in. With a sudden burst of energy, you wasted no time in dragging your mildly clawed nails across the front seat. It wasn’t as deep as you’d like, but it’d do.

As you lifted your head to see your work, you incidentally could see something in the back.

In the back of the car on the floor in a neat little pile was your blanket and pillow.

Confused, you allowed yourself to lean over the center console where the cupholders were.

Before you could even think about what it meant, a firm hand pushed your bottom, making you land face first into the back seat.

Suddenly, Gojo was straddling the center console that you were just on and holding you down on the back seat.

Geto stuck his head in through the drivers side door, seeing the damage, and sighed, “Seriously?”

Geto shut the front car door and opened the back where you and half of Gojo were, leaning and placing a knee on the leather seat to steady himself.

“What’s the matter? Running and ripping up seats, why are you so upset?” Geto spoke kindly, though you could tell he was still angry he tried his best to hide it so as to understand better.

“I heard you two talking, you were gonna go against your promise and kill me!” You growled, feeling betrayed and hurt that they’d feign ignorance.

Geto’s furrowed his eyes brows and looked up at Gojo with an angry and disappointed expression.

“Why are you looking at me like that, I’m not the one spying on people.” Gojo weakly defended himself, pressing himself against your back, trapping you underneath him entirely dramatically, pinning the blame on you.

Geto turned to you and crouched down to meet your squished face, “Don’t be ridiculous. We were never going to kill you.” He spoke in his motherly voice, soothing and honest, lifting a hand to run his large hand through your hair.

“Then… what were you going to do?” You asked, confused.

Geto simply smiled and you could feel Gojo’s firm chest rumble as he chuckled.

“This, sweetheart.” Gojo stated simply before using one of his hands to crane your neck upward before consuming your mouth in his.

It was an overbearing kiss. His body weight smooshing you and his hand gripping your chin and neck, keeping you in place.

You smell, feel, and hear him acutely.

The way his scent blanketed you and his warmth ate away at your form and the small little sadistic laughs he released when you whimpered. His fingers digging gently into your skin.

He’d not-so-carefully bite at your ghostly lips, pulling them away before returning once again to thrust his tongue down your throat or, conversely, pull your own tongue down his own throat.

So focused on consuming your lips that he’s left to pant above you, his cruel laugh turning into drunken whispers as his chest heaved against you.

“Perhaps our little curses’ cursed technique is seduction. I’ve never seen you so distracted before, Satoru.” Geto mused to himself.

Gojo unlatched himself from the sloppy kiss, panting, “Ha… I wouldn’t be surprised.” He agreed.

“I was joking Satoru.” Geto mumbled out.

“Doesn’t sound like a mere joke when you’re faced with these lips, Su-gu-ru~. Taste for yourself.”

Gojo raised his body just enough to push your upper half toward Geto and allow himself to squeeze behind you, opening the car door on the other side so he could still press against you.

Geto looked thoughtless for a moment and you almost believed he was going to deny you a kiss, but he leaned in any way.

It was a gentler start then with Gojo. Geto’s kiss was gentle and rather than pushing past your lips like Gojo had, he merely licked at them for a bit.

It was only when you shyly allowed your lips to part, curious about this new experience, did Geto lunge his tongue without warning.

Geto’s hand that held your in place were more gentle then Gojo’s. His large hands holding your cheeks tenderly.

Yet despite his gentle hand, his kiss only got harsher. As though he were trying to consume your soul from the outside, Geto stole your breath as he kissed with more determination than Gojo had.

Of course, Gojo was not still either.

As Geto kissed you with harsh love, Gojo was poking around your skirt and underwear. Your skirt was a bit shabby, old as it was, but that doesn’t really matter given that Gojo was going to pull it down regardless.

Slipping your skirt and, by extension, your underwear off you shivered as the cold air hit your now exposed pussy, a new sensation.

You wanted to ask what was happening, but honestly your stomach was fluttering with Geto and Gojo touching you like this. It made the presumed betrayal seem like a silly notion.

Gojo gripped your love hands and hips, his large hands able to wrap around both, before forcing you onto your knees.

You were about to ask why but between Geto refusing to free your mouth and Gojo’s fingers now rubbing experimental circles around your virgin clit.

Gojo’s fingers were testing their limits, feeling what ministrations made you twitch most, your hole clench in desperation. While at the start it was only half good, he quickly figure out your favorite patterns. Though, even if he hadn’t, the idea that it was his fingers touching you was enough to get you off.

You arched your back, asking for more nervously, before you felt Gojo groping your thighs, no longer touching your stimulated pussy.

But your pussy’s loneliness didn’t last long as soon after you felt Gojo’s hands’ gripping your thighs, firmly, sternly even, keeping you in place as you felt his breath on your pussy.

With an open panting mouth, like a starving man, Gojo used his tongue to swipe one very long, very slow, and very intrusive, slobbering lick across the entirety of your exposed genitalia.

Every time he drunkenly laughed at your twitching pussy with the flat of his tongue pressed firmly against your pussy you could feel the resulting hot breath reminding you just how close he was.

With just one drooling lick, Gojo had managed to use his tongue to invade every last cell of your cunt and effectively make you dumb in the head.

Your hips couldn’t help themselves, wanting to follow that long tantalizing and cruel stroke, but Gojo kept you firmly in place, his hands holding a bruising grip, refusing to give you even an extra inch of his tongue. You could only be mercilessly teased by him.

It was so mind numbing that you had to interrupt Geto’s kiss by allowing your tongue to loll out when you gasped in utter pleasure.

You babbled, wanting to ask what he was doing, wanting to know what this pleasure was, but Geto stared deep into your eyes, a gentle smile gracing your lips.

“Haha… hah,” Gojo pulled away from your dripping cunt, mindlessly laughing to himself like a madman out of breath, “Suguru~, don’t tell me- hah- you’re just gonna sit there and- ha- waste that hot mouth of hers.” He panted.

Geto hummed, “Oh I’ve no plan to waste any part of our little curse. I just want to make sure we’re running at the same pace.”

Geto seemed relatively calm, but you could hear Gojo hurriedly rush to his feet, the sound of a buckle moving, “Oh trust me, I’m all ready to go.”

Geto reached out his hand and grabbed your lolling tongue between thumb and the knuckle of his pointer finger, massaging it there, “I’d say she is too.”

You’d believed Geto to be the only calm one, but as he stood up you realized that what’s in his pants is anything but calm.

From both in front of you and behind you, you could hear the sounds of belts being removed and pants being pulled down. It was a good thing the sun was just about set because what was about to happen shouldn’t be seen by anyone’s eyes.

Geto’s cock, already hard, was already wet at the tip, pre cum pearling as a sign he’d been worked up for a while now. His patience was certainly not something to gawk at.

Geto once again raised his knee to lean into the car, right next to your head so your face was against his warm thigh and, obviously, his cock right near your mouth.

“It’s simple, you just open your mouth and suck, is that easy enough for you?” Geto cooed at you, kindness in his eyes as he pet your head.

You could only nod your head. Ah~ even in such a forceful situation, Geto was so very kind.

Geto allowed you to explore his cock first, to get a handle on it.

Only just as you were lapping up his precum eagerly did Gojo decide he’d waited long enough.

His impatience got the better of him for a moment, his cock slapping against your slick before sliding the tip into your sopping cunt.

Of course, a virgin as you were, you yelped a bit at the foreign burning.

The sound of your pain seemed to force Gojo back to his senses a bit, his motion coming to a halt.

“Oh! My bad sweetheart~, I was too excited, wasn’t I?” Gojo apologized, sincerely for once, gently rubbing your legs and back soothingly.

“It’ll be okay, just take deep breaths and take me in one~ inch at a time, yeah?” Gojo leaned down to whisper to you.

“If it gets to much, just let me know, I’ll give him a good punch for it.” Geto joked.

“Oh come on, I’m not that bad~.”

True to his word, Gojo took it very slow, and Geto didn’t ask you to keep pleasing him while you focused, instead praising you generously for your efforts.

“You’re such a good girl, taking it in so well. You’re so sweet.” Geto held your face against his thigh, stroking your head, occasionally gripping the hair gently.

“Hn- I’ll say. You’re more than sweet, you tasted divine.” Gojo, currently pressed down against you again, groaned in your ear, his hot breath and aroused voice reaching thickly against you, tracing a line steadily from your chin, down your neck, between your breasts, against your tender belly, and finally to your clit, offering a little stimulation.

Gojo’s cock, angled as he’d gone in, dragged steadily across your sensitive virgin walls.

Finally, as his final inch popped into you, did Gojo’s heavy cock kiss your cervix.

You, finally at ease, went back to pleasing Geto. In order to steady yourself, squished so fiercely, you held onto Gojo’s wrists as he held himself up, or barely up any way.

With Gojo now moving at a steady pace, his body sweaty above you, you couldn’t keep focusing on Geto and decided to instead take his cock into your mouth.

His taste was foreign but not at all unpleasant. And his precum was somewhat creamy and sweet!

Of course, the most distracting thing was Gojo’s merciless cock. There was now only a faint sensation of burning as your stomach and pussy exploded with pleasure like firework going off in your belly.

His pace was fast and sloppy but is strokes were lengthy. His fit body allowed him to pull out all the way to the very tip before delving straight back in, his thick head quickly meeting to gently smooch your cervix.

His length throbbed and every time his pelvis met yours there was a good chance you could feel his heart beat through his phallus. Though, you could hear his hammering heart anyhow as he pressed so firmly against you as though wished to become one with you. His wrists too, as you held them, had a quickened pace. You could feel his bulging veins against your palms.

From sadistic laughter, to drunken giggling, to now heavy pants as his face scrunched in focus. His eyes closed firmly and his mouth hanging open as he released deep quiet moans and stifled whispers of desperation into your ear.

Geto was no better. To please him, you completely negated your gag reflux against your bodies wishes and, in your need to please your sweet Geto, recklessly took several more inches of him down your throat than you probably should have.

His heart beat as could be felt. So thick in your throat that it felt as though he wished you could consume him, heartbeat and all.

Geto leaned against the cars door, his body occasionally quaking as he groaned deeply and released gasps intermittently. He had sweat glistening on his face, the hand he’d placed on your face was damp as well.

Eventually, Geto couldn’t help himself and subtly rocked himself into you, his hips stuttering and losing rhythm.

Gojo too was beginning to lose pace.

And you?

You were a mess.

You were coated in their essence, your own essence was coating Gojo’s cock. And your thighs. And probably Gojo’s thighs.

You moaned with abandon, your body thoroughly stuffed in both ends as the only people you’ve known in your life rocked their body inside you.

Their rhythm became a mess.

Geto was gripping the door of the car so hard you swear he was denting it, his cock throbbing in your throat, threatening to burst. His hand was so clearly fighting the urge to grasp at yours and Gojo’s hair as Gojo has hovered so close to you that Geto was now tasked with providing a loving hand to both you and Gojo.

As for Gojo himself, he’d begun cursing, entirely out of breath, and his pace was sloppy. With clear desperation he was humping you like an animal.

Make no mistake, he was pounding you.

You’d kind of thought Gojo was the more experienced with this kind of thing, but he was so clingy and desperate that you’ve no idea where he’d gotten his previous attitude from.

He whimpered and stifled mewls but you heard it all the same.

Geto did too, which is probably why he was now bringing his other hand to give both you and Gojo attention.

As the three of you, sweaty, drooling, and loudly moaning, reached your climax Geto had gripped both Gojo’s hair and your hair.

Gojo moaned, well moaned and yelped honestly, as his cock pumped thick hot strings of cum deep into your sensitive quivering hole, collapsing on top of you.

Geto too had came, straight down your happily swallowing throat.

Geto popped his now half soft cock out of your slimy and exhausted throat as the three of you panted.

You slowly gathered your thoughts. What just happened..?

“S…So… you were never gonna… gon’ get me..?” You asked confused.

Usually Gojo would’ve responded first but you were pretty sure he was half asleep. He moved his arms to around your neck and shoulders and cuddled you close. Fairly certain his bare ass is hanging out the car currently, but he doesn’t seem concerned.

Geto laughed with half a breath, “No, sweetheart. How could we ever? We were going to take you with us.” Geto assured you, fixing his pants.

Looking back, it made sense. Your stuff was in the car and everything. How embarrassing… and to think you messed up his car.

“‘M sorry! About the car… I mean…” you apologized, burying you face into your arms, embarrassed.

Geto smiled gently, closing the car door on his side and going around the car to fix Gojo, “It’s alright. I mean, I’m mad sure, but I get it. You were fearing for your life after all.” He responded, pulling up Gojo’s pants and lifting his feet into the car so he could close the door.

Geto entered the drivers seat door, taking a seat and pulling out the car keys.

“You don’t have to fear anything anymore. We’ll take care of you, we promise.” Geto tenderly spoke, before driving you to live with your new family as your eyes fell closed.

The two of them will care for you for as long as they live, and when they die, they’ll make sure you come with them. They just love you that much.

This ain’t proof reeaadd

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saphronethaleph · 8 months ago

Text

Sibling Comparisons

Leia rose from her bed, confused, as the door hissed open.

Something seemed off about the situation, she could feel it. But she didn’t want to tip her hand – and a moment’s thought turned up an answer.

“Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper?” she asked, thinking about minimum-height requirements that had been instituted in the days of transition from the clone army and never been rescinded.

“What?” the ‘trooper replied. “Oh, the uniform.”

He took off his helmet. “My name’s Luke Skywalker, I’m here to rescue you.”

Leia did a double-take.

“What is Kenobi thinking?” she asked. “He brought my brother here?”

Luke practically fell over.

“Brother!?” he asked. “But – you’re a princess-”

“Yes, yes, excellent cover identity, sheer audacity,” Leia replied. “Nobody would suspect the Senator for Alderaan, and if you’re going by Skywalker then the same idea must be in play for you. Where’s Kenobi? Is he going by Ben or Obi-Wan these days?”

“We were coming to Alderaan,” Luke said. “Ben’s off shutting down the tractor beam so we can leave – look, what do you mean, brother?”

“We can talk about that later,” Leia replied, striding past her brother to the door of the cell. “What’s your exfiltration plan?”

“My what?” Luke asked. “...we’ve got your R2 unit?”

“Hey, farmboy!” a voice called from up the detention block corridor, accompanied by the sound of blasters firing. “We’ve got company!”

Leia sighed. “Where’s R2-D2?” she asked. “He should be able to get us out of this.”

“About… what, ten floors above us?” Luke guessed, then a wookiee joined them along with someone else in stormtrooper armour.

“We’re not getting out that way,” the man said.

“I don’t suppose you brought a spare blaster for me?” Leia asked. “Is there another way out?”

“Let me check with Threepio,” Luke said, reaching for his comlink. “Seriously? You’re my sister?”

“Right now I’m mostly hoping I’m better at planning than you,” Leia shot back, as blaster bolts flashed down the corridor.

“...well, that worked, eventually,” Leia muttered, brushing herself off as they exited the trash compactor. “Which is a marked improvement on your way of getting us out of here, I have to point out.”

“I’m still waiting on an explanation,” Luke protested. “How can you be my sister?”

“What, you want me to draw a diagram?” Han asked.

Chewbacca roared something.

“Hey, he’s from Tatooine, it’s not an animal farm,” Han protested. “He might just not know.”

“That’s not what I mean!” Luke objected, flushing.

“We’re twins,” Leia replied. “Both of us were put into hiding because being known descendants of Anakin Skywalker is a serious health hazard, beyond just being Skywalkers which is separate… how much training did Ben give you?”

“A few hours,” Luke replied. “On the flight to Alderaan.”

“What was he doing with his time?” Leia asked. “My tutor is literally a state secret without any hands-”

She stopped, swallowing.

“Was, now,” she said, before shaking herself. “Anyway, I could only learn from him while on break on Alderaan and I still got a lot more training than that…”

Han made a curious noise.

“What are you talking about, exactly?” he said. “More of this force nonsense?”

“Where did you dig him up?” Leia asked her brother, with a sardonic eyebrow. “He looks old enough to remember the Clone Wars.”

Chewbacca sniggered.

“Laugh it up,” Han countered. “The Clone Wars weren’t that long ago.”

“That’s my point,” Leia replied, sharply. “The Clone Wars had the Jedi literally leading armies-”

She shook herself. “Okay, we need to focus. How exactly did you plan to get off this thing?”

“Once the tractor beam is down, we’ll be able to just fly right out of here,” Luke volunteered. “Han’s ship is more than it looks – which isn’t hard.”

“Hey!” Han protested.

“Well, if you’ve got Chewbacca with you, that’s a good sign at least,” Leia said, then held up her hand. “Wait – not this way, that way.”

“Based on what?” Han asked.

“That thing you don’t believe in,” Leia replied. “Master Windu couldn’t teach me to fight but he could teach me to avoid trouble…”

#star wars #luke skywalker #leia organa #princess leia #han solo

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sim0nril3y · 1 year ago

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Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!OC Scenario: (setting 2014) A second date might appear to be too much, but deep down Simon knows that he wants more. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), mentions of alcohol, suggestive conversation, slight mention of smut, canon-typical swearing (I mean, it's Ghost for fuck sake!).

When the idea of a wandered around a lake had been offered you were more than happy to oblige. This time you arrived promptly on time, wearing wellington boots, a thick coat and a warm looking scarf. It was the middle of Winter, at least you knew how to dress appropriately for a walk, Simon thought to himself.

It was an early Sunday morning. Usually at this time Simon would be out for a run, or maybe even down the gym so swapping that out for a woodland walk with a pretty girl wasn’t too hard for him. You seemed happy to follow his lead, it seemed that Simon knew his area better than you did anyway, especially considering your attempt to go off path within the first couple of steps, his strong hand holding your elbow and steering you in the correct direction again.

Part way around you stopped by a shack that sold warm coffees and teas. Simon ignored your pleas to pay and passed over the money. “Lucky girl~” The older woman making the drinks swooned at his chivalrous nature. “The night I met my husband I brought the first round ‘cause he forgot his wallet. It was a load of bollocks if you ask me.” A delicate giggle came from your perfect lips, immediately more personable than Simon could ever be, more engaging asking the older woman questions and showing a true interest.

After receiving your drinks, the walk continued. “You never mentioned what you did for work.” Your gentle voice announced then. His eyes stayed trained on the terrain ahead, watching for any raised tree roots or deep puddles in your path. “I didn’t?” It had been a conscious effort not to mention anything about his work. Simon knew that it was stuck in a difficult place, his job was intimidating but it was concerning not to talk about himself, especially when you had shared so much. “No, you didn’t…” Your voice was measured and reserved, like she was thinking. “What if I try and guess…” Simon’s brows pinched together as he glanced at you.

No. Say no. Keep it separate. It’ll be easier that way. “Please?” “Alright.” Fuck, really? One little plea and he breaks down instantly. Fucking hell. He was in deep here. “Oooh, okay…” You were taking this seriously, he could tell. It actually made him chuckle when you squinted your eyes at him, as if trying to imagine him in different workplaces. “Personal trainer?” You finally decided and a shocked laugh fell from his lips. “A personal trainer? What made you say that?”

“What? What are you talking about? You’re a unit.” You pointed out bluntly. Well, he did go to the gym about as often as a personal trainer. A quiet chuckle slipped from his lips as he shook his head. “I’ll assume that was a compliment.” “Trust me. It is.” Fuck, you so easily flirted with him. It was intoxicating. “Alright, so you’re not a personal trainer… Let me think…” A moment of silence passed. “Rugby player?”

A sharp laugh fell from his throat. “I don’t think I’ve played rugby since I was 14.” Smiling you and took another sip of your coffee. “Football player?” “Oh, yeah, I could’ve played for United but I was too good it was intimidating to everyone else.” He joked, his voice slick with sarcasm. He was actually joking with you. It was playful and you laughed with him. God, this was easy. You made this easy for him. “Kid, it’s nothing to do with sport.”

“Hmm…” A beat of silence fell from between them, even as he refused to look in your direction Simon could feel your eyes lingering on him. “Army?” He tensed. Maybe it was that just obvious. Maybe the stench of war seeped from his pores. Maybe his eyes spoke the trauma and torture he’d seen. “Army.” You confirmed softly when he didn’t decline anything. Simon couldn’t bring himself to say a single word. “We don’t have to talk about it…” His cold heart warmed just a touch then. God, he was thankful to you for not pushing him, you didn’t want to ask any of the stupid questions that people usually pushed at him.

They walked in silence for a while after that. Simon prayed you wouldn’t think any different of him. God, he sounded pathetic. It wasn’t like this could ever work out anyway. Eventually you would get bored and move on. That dark inner monologue shut down the moment he felt your cold fingers wrapping around his pinky. Three of them wrapped around the thick digit. You had taken the opportunity of ceasing the hand hanging by his side. Sneaky, but… innocent. Part of him didn’t like touch but you touch… Yeah, he liked that.

Their walked continued and you chatted away seamlessly about her friends, only just touching on the subject of family, but mostly you filled him in on the artwork you had been working on this week. A cynical side of Simon kept thinking all that rubbish was a waste of time, but a softer side reminded him that you weren’t doing any harm following a dream.

A sudden set of dogs came rushing in their direction, you squealed in surprise kneeling down to pet them as they rushed forward, but Simon quickly yanked you back to your feet, placed a step behind him protectively. “They’re safe!” An owner a good few feet away yelled along with a hearty laugh. Not hesitating you stepped around him and greeted both the dogs happily, cooing over them and causing a fuss. Simon stood aside, holding both drinks and looking tense.

The owner whistled curtly causing them both to shoot off in their direction. A quiet giggle came from you whilst rising up, brushing off your dirty knees and accepting the coffee back from Simon. “You don’t like dogs?” “I don’t like dogs I don’t know.” He corrected simply. “I don’t know. They seemed friendly enough.” Stated with a tiny shrug.

“They seem friendly until they are sinking their teeth into your face because you’re at head height for them…” Simon stated bluntly. Fuck, that was too much. He really shouldn’t have said that. Say something. Save it. “And I happen to like your face without bite marks.” A surprisingly bright smile pressed across your face before quirking your brows and asking softly. “Oh, so you like my face?”

“Walk, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder.” He commanded, pressing a hand to your lower back briskly. “Is that a promise…” “Go.”

Their walk came to an end as your arrived back at the carpark. Bloody hell, they had been walking for over two hours. Most of the time you had been chatting, but there had been some really comfortable silence between them. Fuck, this was getting too deep. Two dates in and Simon wanted more, but… but it wasn’t fair. He couldn’t allow you to get closer. He needed this to be the end.

As they approached your car Simon observed it. It was a beat up little banger with a dent in every panel. Pulling your keys from your bag and slowly turned to face him. “Thanks for a nice time…” Your voice soft and delicate, taking a dangerous step in his direction and tilting your head up to turn your intoxicating gaze on him. Bloody fucking hell. How the fuck was he supposed to remain composed? How was he supposed to resist her?

They grew closer. Simon could feel his heart raising in his chest. “Find a boy your own age, for Christ sake.” His whispered just inches from your mouth. He was fighting every fibre in his being not to plead you her to move on from him. “I don’t want them.” Your voice was breathless and bordering on frustrated. “Simon, if you don’t want me just tell me and I’ll go…” That was a stupid idea, he thought.

Like a cornered animal Simon bit back. “Fuckin’ hell. ‘Course I want you.” That was the most honest and blunt that he had been with you in the short time he’d know you. “You have no idea how much that I want you, but… it isn’t as easy as that. I’m not… I can’t give you what you want. Not right away.” Touch and sex and affection. It was a very tricky subject for Simon. It was something he rarely navigated with someone outside of a rare drunk one-night stand. Those felt less messy. Barely even learned their names half the time. “I can wait.” Again, your words interrupted his fuzzy mind and he focused on your face again.

His eyes lingered on you, willing you to continue without wanting to say the words aloud. “Whatever you need. At your pace.” It wasn’t difficult for to sense something different about him. Most men that took you out wanted to bring you back to their flats that night, but Simon had barely wanted to kissed you. It was like you could sense some type of barrier, or a trauma, or just something he simply wasn’t telling you. There was no way that you would judge and you certainly wouldn’t press until he was ready. “You’re not going to scare me off.”

“Fuck…” Muttering under his breath as he leaned in to press his forehead against your own. “I’m just not gonna be able to shake you off, am I?” “Certainly not easily.” Your voice was delicate, bordering on amused before feeling your lips press innocently against his cheek. “When are you free next week?” This time Simon asked the question, ignoring all those voices of doubt and destruction in his mind and following the one that encouraged some type of happiness.

Masterlist | Ask

#simon ghost x reader #simon riley x oc #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley x you #ghost x oc #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost imagine #ghost x you #ghost x y/n

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witchygagirlwrites · 15 days ago

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Consider Me Gone-Part 2

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader x Jay Halstead/Gerstead x Reader

A trauma rolls into med that nearly brings you to your limit. You need Jay and Mouse yet for the first time when you reach your hand out there's not even one there to grasp it.

Warnings: SCENE OF AN O.D.

“Please no” Cassandra begged, falling into your arms. You requested to come along on this notification and now you were regretting it but knew you had to face it “I’m so sorry Cassie” you whispered and felt her knees go out from under her. The two men with you moved to support her but you glared at them as you sank to the floor with her, wrapping your arms protectively around the other woman “He wasn’t alone. I promise you, I was there. I held his hand. I made sure he wasn’t hurting in those last moments. That’s all I could do”

You shot up out of the bed, a fine sheet of sweat covering your body. Mouse and Jay both were on high alert, shooting up on either side of you. “Sweetheart, what is it?” Mouse asked and you shook your head “Nothing, doesn’t matter” the sting of their words the previous night was still a little too fresh to admit that while finding Mark plagued their memories, his wife’s reaction and pain plagued yours. Jay’s face fell as if he knew just exactly why you’d said nothing “Baby, talk to us”

You shook your head “I said I’m fine” you glanced at the time and saw it was only about an hour before your alarm would’ve gone off anyways. “I’m gonna grab a shower and start coffee” “I’ll start coffee” Jay offered so you nodded and slid out of the bed at the foot of it so you didn’t have to go over either one of them.

Jay climbed out of bed after you and walked past you while you were picking through your dresser for a pair of scrubs. He placed one hand on your lower back and it took everything in you to not tense under his touch. “I love you” he spoke before kissing the side of your head. “I love you Jay” you whispered, keeping your eyes on the contents of the drawer in front of you.

You didn’t have to look to know he shot Mouse a look before leaving the room. Divide and conquer was always their route when it came to thinking one of them had done something to hurt your feelings in some way and since Jay was the one who’d actually voiced the thought, apparently Mouse was the one tasked with damage control.

You didn’t hear the bed move before you felt Mouse at your back. “Can I please put my arms around you?” he asked and you nodded. He slipped his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest “I’m sorry for what was said, Jay is too. It came out wrong” you nodded simply because you didn’t trust your voice to not waver at the moment.

He stood there for a moment just holding you and you wanted so bad just to forget the hurt. How humiliating it felt when they both had acted as if your time spent overseas was nothing because you weren’t an active combatant. You had the same base training as them, you weren’t exactly Desmond Doss. You believed in kill or be killed and had done whatever it took to keep your unit safe. On top of that to know that they couldn’t even turn to a man that served, it was another woman. Yeah she’d been in your unit but how could they not realize how that would make you feel?

“Greg, I’ve got to get a shower” you whispered and he pressed a kiss to your shoulder where the tank you’d worn to bed left it bare “Ok. You want some breakfast?” you shook your head “I’ll just get some coffee” he left his arms drop and you had to remind yourself to not run from the room. What the hell were you doing to yourself? You had to get in a better mindset before work.

When you got out of the shower and were dressed you headed to the kitchen and could hear the two of them talking. “You know that was a nightmare right?” “Well damn Greg I never would’ve guessed” “Since when does she not tell us about them?”

You stepped around the corner and cleared your throat. Both of their heads whipped around at the sound and they looked like kids with their hands caught in the cookie jar “Is the coffee ready?” Mouse held up your mug and you knew it was made to your taste. You walked over and took it from his hand with a small smile “Thank you”

You leaned back against the counter and took a sip before asking “How’s the case going anyways?” They exchanged a look before Jay said “Voight think’s he has a lead. Him and Al were gonna go talk to a few people they knew this morning” “Good” you replied and left it at that. Normally mornings in your house were spent talking over coffee, planning for the week ahead. Today felt like there was a space between you and them that was strangling you with every breath you took.

______________

You dumped the rest of your coffee “I’m gonna get going” “Can we talk after work?” Jay asked and you cut your eyes at him “Sure you want to talk to me?” his shoulders sagged slightly “Princess there’s no one else on earth we’d rather talk to” you laughed humorlessly “Really?”

He ran a hand down his face “Baby, it was a freaking beer!” “A beer with another woman Jay!” you argued and he waved a hand “A woman who was in our freaking unit! Who was in the field with us! Who saw the same shit we did!” you shook your head “I was there Jay! I saw the same shit! Who the hell do you think they drug Mark back to? Who do you think had to try their fucking hardest to save him only to have to tell his wife that they couldn’t?”

Mouse stepped between you and Jay “Take a breath, both of you” you glared at him “You aren’t fucking innocent either Greg. You did the same thing! Jay is just verbal about his bullshit! Why don’t you tell me how fucking useless I am too? About how my trauma isn’t valid because I wasn’t in the field? How I WASN’T THERE TOO?”

They both flinched when you screamed but you didn’t care, hot tears were spilling down your face by that point “Ever stop to think that when Erin called to give me that heads up that it took me right back to that day too?” you looked between them and they both dropped their gaze. You nodded slowly “Of course not. You two found him, yeah and that was fucking horrific. I care enough about you two to never take away from anything you’ve endured but I am the one that he was laid on a stretcher in front of and tasked with trying to save! I am the one who had to lie and tell him he was going to be ok! I am the one who watched life leave his eyes and I am the one who held his wife when she was told her husband, the father of her twins, was not coming home. I don’t give a fuck what Athena saw. You two were drowning, ok. You come to me! ME! No one else! We’re supposed to have each other’s backs! We’ve always had each other’s backs but because she’s in town all of a sudden I’m not good enough?”

“We never once said that!” Mouse argued but a phone chiming interrupted all of you. You glanced towards the counter to see Jay’s phone lit up. You knew both of their passwords like they knew yours so you walked over to pick it up and saw it had Athena’s name on it. You didn’t even look at the text. You picked it up and threw it at Jay’s chest.

“You two don’t even care that I’m here in front of you do you? Just because she was in the field. Did she put you two back together? Did she let herself jump so far down into that darkness just to help you two dig yourselves back up? I did! I needed you two to talk to me last night because then that meant you trusted me with the hell in your head. You didn’t. You talked to her. You chose her. Sometimes what you don’t say comes through so much clearer than what you do”

You spun on your heel to walk out the room but both of them caught you, trying to put their arms around you. You shoved them off “No! Fuck you! You don’t get to touch me!” They both put their hands up defensively. You hadn’t realized your hands were shaking until you raised them to point one at each of them “I love both of you with my entire fucking heart but you need to decide what it is you want”

You stormed out of the room, stopping just long enough to grab your keys and phone before slamming the door behind yourself.

You sat in your car with your head leaned back against the seat, trying your best to stop the damn tears. Your phone hadn’t stopped ringing since you left home. Jay and Mouse were taking turns calling and texting. When they got to work they would probably resort to either using landlines or stealing the unit’s phones.

You took a deep breath and clicked on the group text thread. M:Sweetheart please answer your phone J:Baby just talk to us M:You know we would never want anyone but you J:No one would ever compare to you M:We love you more than anything J:Please just answer your phone

You texted back I have to go into the hospital now. I can’t have my head on this when people are hurt or sick in front of me. You both know what you mean to me. I don’t know what that text said and I don’t want to know. I do need to know where I stand by the time my shift ends

With that you locked your phone and slid it into your pocket, checked to see just how horrible you looked then climbed out of your car.

Two car wrecks, a delivery done in the ed, a GSW and three people with the flu covered your first five hours of your shift. You still weren’t in the best mind set but you were doing what you did best, pushing it to the side to help the people in front of you. That was how you maintained your balance, how you didn’t lose yourself. That was something you’d found long ago.

You were in the breakroom when Will came in and you dropped your gaze, pulling out your phone and hoping he hadn’t noticed you weren’t quite aces. “There’s my favorite sister in law” you cut your eyes up with a small smile “Hey Will” he sat down across from you “Are you ok?”

You nodded slowly “Yup, can not think of a single reason why I wouldn’t be” he stared at you for a moment before raising an eyebrow “I’m not the brother you’re in a relationship with but I have known you for quite a while. I love you, you’re like a sister to me.If something is wrong, even if it's something my brother or Mouse did you can talk to me” You nodded “I know. I promise, I’m ok Will. I had a bad night, dreams of delivering bad news kept haunting me”

“Why did you do that? It wasn’t your job” he asked and you shrugged “I had letters, messages or just to let them know I held the person they loved so they wouldn’t be alone. I would want to know Jay or Mouse wasn’t alone” he smiled “You’re an extraordinary woman. Don’t know how the hell my brother and Mouse of all people got you”

You gave him a small smile “They looked cute in their ACUs” he shook his head with a laugh “There she is” then tapped on the table “I’ll be around if you need me. Just holler and I’ll come running sis” “Thanks Will”

__________________

You stepped out of the break room and heard Ethan call your name “We got an OD in trauma one Y/N! I need you” you feel in step with him, running around the main desk and into the trauma room. You heard April calling out stats and saw Will administering another round of Narcan but when you glanced at the body on the bed, it felt like their voices were underwater. You could hear them but they were muffled. Your hands felt like they were tingling and your head felt like it may very well slip off your body. That jacket, that black jacket.

You hadn’t been back in Chicago but maybe a month. You just managed to rent a new place. It was a little one bedroom but it was in an ok neighboor and the rent didn’t kill you. You’d just gotten off back to back shifts and was curled up under three blankets from the harsh winter night. The sound of your phone blaring woke you up.You scrambled for it and squinted against the harsh glare before bringing it to your ear “Halstead I swear to christ..”

Before you could finish the threat he cut you off “I had a missed call from Mouse about an hour ago. He left a voicemail, he was slurring Y/N and now he isn’t answering” you were out of the bed before he finished talking “Come pick me up”

You followed Jay to the apartment he said was Mouse’s. He hadn’t let you out of his sight and honestly in this neighborhood? You were grateful. “How the hell are we gonna get in?” you asked and he cut his eyes up at a window. You shrugged and slung your med bag across your chest before pulling his knife out of his pocket “Give me a boost?”

He put his hands around your hips and hoisted you up. It didn’t take you long to pop the flimsy lock on the window and shimmy inside. “Y/N!” he called and you looked back out. He handed you a flashlight and his gun. “What do I need that for?” he shrugged “We don’t know what you’re going into. If it’s bad yell and I’ll kick the door in”

You turned the light on and readied the gun before stepping away from the window. Your heart shattered the moment you saw the interior of the apartment. There was no furniture,at all. A single mattress was on the floor and it felt colder inside than it did outside.

You cleared room by room and was starting to think maybe Greg had just drunk dialed Jay when you pushed open the bathroom door. “JAY!” you screamed.

Mouse lay in the middle of the bathroom floor, a couple pill bottles lay in the sink and it didn’t look like he was breathing. You slid to your knees,throwing your med bag off onto the floor. You rolled him over onto his side, the black jacket he wore was icy to the touch, when you noticed how grey his lips looked tears sprung to your eyes “No no no” you heard the front door bounce off the wall from the force of Jay kicking it in.

You reached for Mouse’s pulse and felt a weak, thready one. “CALL AN AMBULANCE JAY! HE’S OVERDOSED!” you screamed. You dug into your bag, shaking fingers wrapping around the narcan “Greg please don’t fucking do this to me” you whispered before bringing the medicine up to his nose and administering it. You turned him for rescue breaths, praying you hadn’t been too late. Jay ran into the room, still on the phone with the dispatcher “My-my friend is a trained medic”

You didn’t try to listen, your goal was getting to see those sky blue eyes you loved looking up at you again. “Please Greg” you whispered, administering the second dose after the time passed and was rewarded by a harsh gasp of air being forced into his lungs. “Tell them he’s breathing” you sobbed, turning him on his side again in case he puked. His eyes cracked open “Y/N?” you nodded, tears flowing down your face “Hey” “Don’t cry baby” he whispered weakly and you shook your head “Then stay awake till the ambulance gets here ok?”

“Y/N! Y/N!” you hadn’t realized you froze or that everyone in the room had realized it. Ethan, Will and April had gotten the patient stabilized but were now staring at you like they were worried you may be next “I’m sorry” you whispered and ran out of the room.

Ethan found you in the break room, sitting on the floor with your head between your knees shaking. He crouched in front of you, close but not touching “Hey, can I touch you or no?” you shook your head and he smiled slightly “Ok. Can I get April or Maggie?” you nodded and he smiled “Stay here soldier. I’m gonna get you help. I won’t leave your side for long, I promise”

He came back a few moments later with April in tow. She climbed down next to you and slowly put her arm around you “Match my breathing honey”. You listened to her breaths and were able to slow yours after a few minutes while she kept two fingers on your pulse to check it.

Once you were able to actually focus your eyes on them Ethan sat cross legged in front of you “Talk to me” you swallowed hard “That jacket the kid had” he nodded and you met his eyes “Greg had one just like it the night he overdosed and I thought we lost him” He shared a look with April and she nodded “I’m gonna go back to the floor sweetie. If you need me just send Ethan” you nodded “Thank you”

Once she left he looked back at you “When did it happen?” you swallowed hard “When we got back we all kind of went our own ways for a while. Jay, he sought comfort in bodies. Any bed he could warm he did. I visited families of the men I lost, delivering messages then I went to stay with my sister for a while, I barely slept or ate during that time. If it wasn’t eighty proof I didn’t want it and Greg well he found his own way to numb the pain”

“How’d you get out of it?” he asked and you smiled slightly “Greg pulled Jay out of a hole. He was in bad shape. He’d started drinking bad, doing stuff that well he shouldn’t have been involved with. Greg got him home to Chicago. Those two being back here was like a magnet to pull my ass back” “What happened when Greg overdosed?” he asked so you recounted that night “He was so thin Ethan. I mean Greg has always had a slimmer frame but he’s always been lean muscle. We’re talking about a man that could toss me over his shoulder and laugh about it. That night, I could move him by myself with no issue. His lips were grey…it took two rounds of Narcan”

“I didn’t know” he offered and you nodded “I don’t think it would’ve hit that bad had intelligence not had just caught a case that trudged up memories of how we lost a man too. I was the medic that couldn’t save him..they don’t get that pain” he smiled slightly and nudged your knee “Lucky for you someone you know does. Any time anything like that hits you, call me. April won’t care. She loves you and wouldn’t want you to have to face it alone”

“You don’t know how much that means” you whispered and he nodded. “Feel like facing the outside world or wanna sit in here a while longer?” you shook your head “We’ve faced worse right?” he smiled “There’s that medic who sends em running”

__________________

The moment you and Ethan stepped out of the break room you spotted Will. “Are you ok?” he asked and you nodded “Yeah, a little embarrassed” Ethan cut his eyes at you “That? We’re not doing that, ok?” you nodded “Ok” he smiled “Get to work medic” you grinned “Yes sir”

Will looked at you “Do I need to call Jay?” you shook your head “I’m ok” he gave you a look so you sighed “I’ll text them!” that seemed to appease him enough. “If you need me holler, ok?” “Ok”

How do you text your boyfriends that you screamed at that morning that you had a flashback and panic attack at work? Before Will says anything, I’m fine. Just a case threw me off. No big deal

M: What do you mean you’re fine, no big deal??? J: Do we need to come to you?? M: Are you ok??

I’m fine, just had a bad time with a case that came in

M: What case? You stared at the text because no matter how mad you were you didn’t want to put guilt on him. He’d gone through hell. He’d fought to get and stay sober. You didn’t want to throw it in his face. Doesn’t matter and I don’t mean that like this morning. I’m ok now

M:If you need us, call. I love you J: Even if I can’t come, Mouse will. I love you

Love you both, always

You slid your phone back into your pocket and jumped back into work.

By the time you got off you were dead on your feet but you considered stopping by the precinct to see everyone before going home. You didn’t want to text Jay or Mouse so you texted Erin Hey babe, want some coffee? It didn’t take long for her to text back Omg yes! I’ll steal you from dumb and dumber I will love you so much you laughed and sent back Text me orders

___________

You pulled into the front lot with the two carriers of coffee. You’d texted Erin to send help down and smiled when you saw Al coming out the front door “Oh she sent my favorite detective” he smiled “Hey kid” you passed him one carrier then grabbed the other and the extra coffee that was Trudy’s.

“How was work?” he asked and when you grimaced he laughed “That good huh?” you shrugged “Put it this way? There’s days I kinda miss the simplicity of being a trauma medic compared to an ed nurse”

You followed him in and stopped at the front desk to offer Trudy her cup. She smiled “I have no clue how Mouse and Detective chuckles got a woman like you” you winked at her “Neither do they”

You followed Al up the stairs after he scanned his palm. You could hear everyone’s voice drifting downstairs and smiled when you heard Erin and Kim laughing. You’d gotten close with the unit over time. They were your friends, hell your family.

You made it to the bullpen and started passing out cups. Voight smiled “You’re an angel sweetheart” you shook your head “No one likes a liar now Hank” and everyone cracked up. You were about to ask where Jay and Mouse were when you heard their voices coming from the back hallway. You turned towards the door with a smile that quickly fell when you realized they weren’t alone. Athena was with them. “What the fuck” you and Erin both spoke in tandem.

All three heads turned towards your voice and Athena had the nerve to smile “Fireball” you grabbed the cups of coffee and threw them at Jay and Mouse “I’m done” you didn’t try to stop yourself from running that time. You ran down the stairs, hearing Erin’s raised voice along with Jay and Mouse’s followed by Voight yelling for everyone to shut up.

When you got to the lobby you slowed to a fast walk and nodded to Trudy but the moment you hit the door you ran for your car, collapsing into the driver’s seat.

____________________

You moved through the house with your duffle bag shoving everything you came across that belonged to you in it. Thank god the United States made sure to supply you with a bag big enough to pack your life in.

You snatched your old dogtags off the corner of the mirror where they hung with Mouse and Jay’s. They didn’t need them. You would burn your photos if you had enough time. Your goal was to get gone before they could get home. They knew how you felt, they knew your insecurities. You’d laid everything on the line for them and they hadn’t cared. She’d smiled in your face! SMILED.

You’d kill her if you ever got within arm’s reach again. She didn’t know them like you did. She didn’t know a damn thing about them compared to you. Every demon, every dark corner YOU faced. More tears broke free but that didn’t stop you. If you weren’t worth fighting for in their opinion why would you fight for them?

You did a final look around then took your key off and laid it on the counter. You didn’t need it anymore. You locked the door behind yourself and threw your duffle into your trunk. Maggie would let you sleep on her couch until you could figure things out. Your life just fell down around you, the men you love just turned their backs on you. You’d never felt more alone but knew she wouldn’t turn you away. You did have some people that truly did love you even if Jay and Mouse weren’t on that list after all.

@desimarie12

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@allisonargent144

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phi8 · 3 months ago

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Recently rewatched Gravity Falls with its resurgence online, and I was itching to give my take on an older Mabel with an absolute unit of a Waddles (who is a regular farm pig after all). To go along with this, I also wrote some fanfic: a letter from Dipper to Mabel, about his return to Gravity Falls years after the show. Read it on AO3 or below!

Dear Mabel,

I hope everything is going well back home! I miss you already, but it’s so good to be back in Gravity Falls too. A lot has changed since our summer here.

The first week of my internship at McGucket Labs has been amazing. McGucket has really transformed Northwest Manor into a fantastic campus (though he still insists everyone call it “the Hootenanny Hut”)! There are so many brilliant scientists and engineers here, and most of them have a refreshingly open mind about the nature and use of all the weirdness you can find in Gravity Falls. My experience with all that stuff is already paying off big time. Yesterday some PHD dude asked for my opinion on practical applications of necromancy (I told him it was a bad idea)!

Candy says hi by the way! It’s funny, for me this internship is all the way across the country, but for her it’s practically in her back yard, even though we both got that scholarship. Also, she tells me Grenda is more or less officially part of the Austrian aristocracy at this point? Apparently she and that Marius duke guy got engaged, did you hear about that?? Turns out I’m completely out of the loop with your friend group.

Candy and I have been hanging out with, of all people, Pacifica and Gideon. Can you believe it? Pacifica works at Corduroy Lumber these days. Probably in some misguided sense to get back to her roots, but I think it’s doing her some actual good. Working with her hands has been teaching her valuable life lessons I guess. It makes it a bit weird if Wendy also comes hang out, because she’s technically Pacifica’s boss – but you know Wendy’s cool about that.

Gideon is still running the Tent of Telepathy, so, not all winners. But he’s turned into a more lovable kind of swindler I think, like a younger Stan. He’s honestly kinda funny now (except that he’s taller than me). Wendy also told me he has a thing for Pacifica, and once she did, I couldn’t unsee it. He’s all over her! Pacifica hasn’t noticed, even though they spend a lot of time together. Or maybe she just hasn’t deigned it with a reaction... Either way, both of them are a ball to go for a drink with, whoda thunk.

You also have a lot of hugs from Soos, Melody and the baby (Stan Jr is sooo cute). (Yes, I asked. Melody promised to make you godmother of the hypothetical next child. You owe me.) The Shack is as charmingly ramshackle as it was back when we were here, but Soos finally got the old man stink out. I’m staying in Grunkle Ford’s old secret office because our room was converted to baby chamber. I still haven’t gotten the Bill murals completely off the walls and I have no natural light down here, but I spend most of my time at Northwest Manor the Hootenanny Hut anyway.

Or in the woods! Being back here really was a good move for my Youtube channel, there’s so much more supernatural stuff here than in California, and people are loving it. (I saw you liked my last video, thanks!) I’m currently tracking down what I think is the actual Gobblewonker. I analyzed some detritus samples from the lake, and there were feces from a large reptile present. From what we know, none of the dinosaurs in the mine were aquatic, so my current hypothesis is that it’s an unrelated creature. Especially since, according to my research, the Gobblewonker story dates back at least a century. I also gotta show Ford some of my findings. You know they’ve come across some aquatic monsters in the Bermuda Triangle. (Have you also been getting his mails with scans of the fourth journal? Truly fascinating stuff.) Either way, I’ll keep you posted, and you’ll be able to watch the result online.

Give my love to mom and dad, and Waddles a tummy rub! Awkward sibling sign off, Dipper

PS. Along with the photo’s in the envelope is that stuff you wanted. Be safe with it! There’s a reason it’s illegal in the parts of the forest controlled by the gnomes. But also have fun, I have it on very good authority it’s the good stuff.

#art #gravity falls #mabel pines #waddles #fanfic #text #my art

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suzukiblu · 1 year ago

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Parasite WIP is so good and I desperately want more of it! I voted for it in the poll and I’m so sad it didn’t win

Friend, I appreciate you asking after it because it really is one of my fucked-up faves that I really need to work on more, so uh . . . have all 4500 words of the prose so far all together, hahaha. Yes, yes I DID reformat this whole thing into Tumblr-friendliness all for you. THAT IS HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOUR APPRECIATION, FRIEND. ( so definitely we are gonna need that read-more down there, lol. )

Clark wakes up.

Clark didn't even know he wasn't awake.

"Superman," Bruce says with absolute neutrality. He's wearing the cowl. Standing in rubble. Clark is . . . not standing in rubble.

Laying in rubble. That's what Clark is doing.

Bruce is looking down at him very, very carefully, and seems . . . reserved.

Reserved for Bruce, even.

"What happened?" Clark asks, trying not to concentrate on the little seed of dread that the sight of that reservation invokes in him. He can hear the heartbeats of other League members, here and there in the wreckage of the street around them. Hear civilians and city noise. Hear Lois and Jon, distantly, and Ma and Pa, even more distant. And . . . Kara–both of her–and . . .

"We'll go with 'electrocution', but I think we can safely say just about anyone else would've been virtually incinerated," Bruce informs him, distracting Clark from his mental rundown of people he's currently worried about. "Or just exploded."

"Ah," Clark says with a grimace. Well, that explains why his head hurts so damn bad, he guesses.

At least it was him, then, and not any "anyone else"s.

He pushes himself up. Looks around. He . . . isn't sure where they are, exactly, except that it's probably somewhere on Earth and within the continental United States, judging by the architecture and signs he's seeing and the accents and languages he's hearing.

He has absolutely no idea how they got here, though. The last thing he remembers is . . .

. . . he's not actually sure what the last thing he remembers is.

Not a great sign, that.

Bruce is watching him. Like he's . . . expecting something, almost. Clark would ask, but there's an odd feeling distracting him. Something's . . . off, somehow.

Missing.

Bruce's utility belt is a new design, he notes absently. J'onn is down the street a bit and his costume looks a little different too. And Diana . . .

Diana is over across the way, and her hair is a couple inches longer than he remembers it being.

Clark would assume he was mistaken, except for the eidetic memory and all.

"Hm," Clark says.

"Hm?" Bruce says. He still sounds faultlessly neutral.

"Trying to figure out if I'm in the right reality. Things look a little off," Clark replies, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes in concentration. No unexpected sounds or scents. No particular feeling of disorientation that can't be accounted for by being apparently electrocuted. No additional pains past the dull pressure in his head or any immediately obvious peculiarities beyond the minor little scattered differences here and there in his teammates.

But something is–

"I can't hear Kon," Clark realizes abruptly. He doesn't usually especially keep an ear out for the kid, at least not deliberately, but . . .

Bruce . . . pauses.

"You can't," he says, very carefully. It doesn't sound like a question.

It sounds like something, though.

"I can't," Clark confirms anyway, glancing around again. He still doesn't know where this is. "Where are we, exactly?"

"What's the date, Kal?" Bruce asks, and Clark's heart sinks.

He answers the question.

Bruce's mouth thins.

Hell, Clark thinks.

"We're currently in Keystone City," Bruce says, very carefully expressionless. "We've been here for three days. The date you just provided me was a full fourteen months ago. And Kon-El has been MIA for roughly thirteen and a half of those months."

Hell, Clark thinks, and doesn't let himself process anything past that.

"We need to get a scan of your brain," Bruce says. "For starters."

"For starters," Clark agrees tightly.

Bruce tells Diana they're leaving, then abandons the rubble and takes Clark up to the Watchtower. Clark goes. He doesn't ask what electrocuted him or who's died in the past fourteen months or if there's anything immediately urgent that he should know. Bruce would've already told him, if there was.

And he thinks he'd choke on the question if he tried, anyway.

They go to the med bay. There's a total stranger standing in it who smiles at them when they step through the door.

"Haven't seen you in here in quite a while, Superman," the stranger observes in amusement, tapping a pen against the clipboard in their hands. "You still haven't been in for that checkup I owe you, you know."

"He doesn't know you," Bruce informs them evenly. The stranger blinks.

"Sorry?" they say.

"He was electrocuted," Bruce says. "Now he thinks it's fourteen months ago. We need a brain scan. Immediately."

"Hell," the stranger says, their eyes widening in alarm.

Clark gets the brain scan.

He and Bruce wait in a convenient exam room for the results, which seem to be taking a while. Bruce seems a bit more guarded than usual, which means Clark is standing next to goddamn Fort Knox right now. He sighs to himself.

"Suppose at this rate I should call and tell Lois and Jon I'll be late for dinner," he jokes wryly as he folds his arms, no real humor in the comment, and Bruce goes very, very still beside him.

. . . hell.

They're not dead. He knows they're not dead, he heard their heartbeats before they left for the watchtower, Bruce would've already told him if either of them were–

"They aren't expecting you," Bruce says with absolutely no intonation whatsoever in his voice. "You moved out eight months ago. The divorce is already finalized."

"Ah," Clark says, very slowly. He doesn't let himself process, again. Not–just, not yet. "What happened?"

"You left them," Bruce says, and Clark . . . blinks.

"I left them?!" he demands incredulously. Leaving Lois is one thing, horrible and impossible a thought as it is, but– "Not just–I left them both?!"

"As you explained it to me, you were no longer interested in maintaining the . . . 'persona' of Clark Kent," Bruce replies carefully, looking just past him. "You said you couldn't stand the screaming anymore. That you appreciated us . . . humoring you for so long, but you couldn't just keep walking around making excuses and lying to everyone while people were suffering and dying just because you had to pretend to be human for a while. So yes. You left them. Haven't visited since Lois finally signed the divorce papers. Haven't spoken to your parents either. You've been . . . erratic. Since Kon-El's disappearance. When we couldn't find him . . . when we couldn't even find out what happened to him . . ."

"Oh," Clark says, and his heart sinks again.

He doesn't understand, though. Kon is–he cares about the kid, obviously. Cares very deeply about him. He's pretty sure he even loves him, at this point. But he's not . . .

It feels terrible to think it, but Clark doesn't understand why Kon disappearing like that would affect him enough to stop being Clark. It's awful, and he still hasn't let himself actually think about it happening at all because he really can't process it right now, but that awful? Really? Awful enough to abandon being any semblance of a normal person? Abandon Lois and his parents entirely?

Abandon Jon entirely?

Apparently, yes.

"Technically you're on unpaid sabbatical from the Planet," Bruce tells him. "We thought you might . . . reconsider, once you'd grieved properly, so Lois pulled some strings with Perry White. He thinks you're having an early mid-life crisis and your co-workers think you're off finding yourself in South America with a bad cell phone plan."

"I guess I don't believe in satellite phones?" Clark says, trying for wry again. It doesn't work, but he tries all the same.

"This is unfair of me, but I'm going to take advantage of your current mental state," Bruce says. He's looking at the wall, though there's nothing there to actually be looking at. Not even anything on the other side, at least not according to X-ray vision. "Try to remember how you feel right now, when your memories of the past year return. Try to remember who you are right now, when those memories return."

"Why?" Clark asks, watching him carefully as he does. The corners of Bruce's mouth tighten. Just barely, but undeniably.

"You've been . . . gone, Clark," Bruce says slowly. "You won't even answer to 'Clark' anymore. You aren't the same man that I . . . that we all . . ."

The stranger comes back before Bruce has to admit to too many personal feelings or Clark can figure out what to say to any of that, which might be a mercy but might also be–

The stranger looks . . . strange, Clark notices. Nauseated, almost. And definitely distressed.

"I haven't done brain scans on Superman before," they say, their grip on their clipboard concerningly close to white-knuckled. "And my predecessor apparently hadn't done any in a while either. Last ones in the system are over two years old."

"What's wrong?" Bruce says, narrowing his eyes. Honestly at this point Clark figures a kryptonite brain tumor would really just be the icing on the cake, and frankly would probably explain some of his apparent behavioral changes and current memory loss. That genuinely makes more sense than anything else, really, even with grief and guilt to contend with.

More sense than abandoning his own damn kid does, at least.

Although a tumor's the worst-case scenario, obviously. And it can't be any worse than that, really, or any worse than anything he's apparently done to his family this past year, so at least he's braced for–

"There's an . . . organism," the stranger says, swallowing uncomfortably. "In your brain."

"What?" Clark says.

"A dead organism, now," the stranger clarifies. "But it looks like it's been there for a while. There are . . . roots. And . . . lesions, too."

"An organism," Bruce repeats very, very slowly. "In Superman's brain."

"Yes," the stranger says.

"I don't . . ." Clark trails off.

"We need more scans," Bruce says.

"I ran it four times on two different machines," the stranger says. "It's organic. It's not giving off any recognizable life signs. It seems like it might've been . . . you mentioned electrocution, before?"

"You think the electricity killed it," Bruce realizes. "And then Superman forgot fourteen months?"

"I'm not sure Superman ever experienced those fourteen months to begin with," the stranger says tightly, gripping their clipboard even harder.

Clark was in no way whatsoever braced for this.

"Fuck," Bruce says.

More scans happen after all. A lot more scans, a lot of specialists, and a lot of arguing. Everything's a bit of a blur, in a sense. Clark absorbs very little of it, and mostly leaves things to Bruce unless he's asked a direct question about his medical history. His judgment might be compromised right now, after all, whether the . . . organism is dead or not.

The emergency OR gets prepped. The red sun lamps get set up inside it.

"Should we contact Lois?" Bruce asks as Clark's shrugging into an ill-fitting hospital gown and preparing himself to possibly die in pursuit of getting a dead who-knows-what out of his brain before it can start to rot there and potentially kill him that way. "Or your parents?"

"No," Clark says. "Just get this damn thing out of my head."

If he doesn't survive the removal process . . .

They don't know what's been going on. What he let happen to himself, somehow.

He isn't going to tell them he's back just to immediately take himself away again.

He records something for Jon, just in case. It's not enough, but it's–something, he tells himself. It's something.

It's all he can bring himself to do.

He leaves the disk with the recording on it with Bruce and asks him to have Dick deliver it, if it's necessary.

Things proceed from there, and Clark wakes up again a week later in a private room in the med bay, connected to half a dozen machines and needles and tubes and directly facing the sun. Diana is dozing in the chair next to his bed. Bruce is pacing at the foot of it. They're both in costume. Clark feels weak and groggy, but he can hear half a dozen other heartbeats lingering in the hall, so presumably they were expecting him to wake up around now.

"Mm," he says. Diana snaps awake. Bruce stops mid-step.

They both look at him.

"The operation was a success," Bruce informs him. "Textbook. Or as textbook as removing a mind-controlling parasite of unknown origins from a Kryptonian brain can get for mostly-human surgeons, anyway."

"Do you need anything?" Diana asks. "Would you like us to call your family yet?"

Clark shakes his head, then closes his eyes and sleeps for another week.

"Sleep", he supposes, counts as something that he needs right now.

The next time he wakes up, he's alone in his room and disconnected from the machines and just feels . . . normal, really. Like nothing was ever wrong at all and he didn't just have major surgery that was, essentially, the equivalent of multiple traumatic brain injuries. His hair is already starting to grow back from where it was buzzed down for the surgery, and there's not even any bandages on his head.

There's no noticeable scarring, Clark observes when he makes it to the little ensuite bathroom to take a look in the mirror. The surgeons told him there probably wouldn't be, given both the methods they'd been intending to use and the nature of his own physiology, but seeing the total lack of proof of what happened to him is just . . . strange, somehow.

It feels almost like a cheat. Like it should be obvious, in some way.

There was a parasite in his head. Something controlling him. Pretending to be him. Passing for him. It could've done anything it wanted.

It did do things that Clark still has no idea about.

So many things.

He couldn't even fight it. Wasn't conscious or aware enough to, or just not strong enough to, or just . . .

He couldn't even fight it.

And he doesn't know what it did.

The door opens. Diana walks in.

"Would you like us to call your family now?" she asks.

"Yes," Clark says roughly, curling his fingers around the sides of the sink in front of him. "Please."

"Of course," Diana says with a terrible and merciless gentleness.

Clark sits down on the lid of the toilet and just . . . cries. Just for a minute.

Or twenty.

Diana kneels in front of him and holds his hands in her own.

Fourteen months, Clark thinks, all twisted up with grief and pain and so, so much regret. He missed so much. He wasn't there for Jon or Lois or his parents. He wasn't there for Bruce or Diana or the League, for either of Kara, for . . .

For Kon. He wasn't there for Kon.

Wasn't there for Kon when the kid needed him.

Kon completely vanished, and who knows if the damn parasite even pretended to help look for him? If it did anything at all for him? Who knows if Clark could've found him, could've saved him, if he'd still been himself at the time?

. . . who knows if the parasite isn't what made Kon disappear to begin with?

It took fourteen months of Clark's life, and Kon . . . Kon disappeared two weeks into those fourteen months.

If nothing else, the timing is a screaming red flag.

Clark abandoned his son and might've murdered a kid who only ever looked up to him, a kid who he was never really able to fully understand but literally named, and he can't do anything to bring Kon back or to make up for the year that he wasn't there for the rest of his family.

Their family.

God, what has he done? What has Clark done, and did Kon die feeling afraid or shocked or terrified? Did he die feeling betrayed? Did he think it was Clark doing it, however it happened?

Did he die thinking Clark wanted him to die?

Clark doesn't even know what happened to his body.

There won't be another resurrection.

Clark chokes. Diana squeezes his hands. He grips hers like a lifeline and shudders through it. The grief is a terrible, ugly thing. It's one of the worst things Clark's ever felt.

The guilt is worse.

"Lois," he murmurs finally, feeling like the weakest man alive. "Could you call . . . Lois, please, and just . . . ask if she'll come. I'll explain it all to her, just–could you call her, please."

"Yes," Diana says, squeezing his hands again. "Of course."

"Thank you," Clark says.

He pulls himself together, more or less, and Diana goes to make the call. She comes back a few minutes later and tells him Lois agreed, but needs to find a babysitter first. Clark in no way blames her for not bringing Jon along and frankly is surprised she's willing to come at all.

He's not sure what he could even say to Jon right now.

What can he?

Diana makes sure he eats something, then leaves for monitor duty. Clark tries not to overthink things. Tries not to think too much at all.

He spent fourteen months not thinking at all, though, all of it lost in one oblivious blink, so that doesn't work out all that well for him.

An hour later, he hears the Zeta platform activate on the opposite side of the base, and hears Lois's heartbeat appear inside the watchtower.

Clark exhales, very slowly.

He waits.

Lois comes to the med bay. She doesn't stop to talk to anyone on the way. Doesn't talk to anyone except that stranger Clark still doesn't actually know the name of, who tells her where to find him.

And then a minute or a millennium later she's standing in the open doorway of his room, and Clark is looking at her. Her expression is neutral, and her hair is shorter than it was the last time he remembers seeing her–the last time he was the one actually seeing her. An inverse bob, not shoulder-length anymore. He recognizes the blazer and heels that she's wearing, but not the blouse or the pants. Not the earrings or the necklace, either.

And there's no wedding ring to recognize either way.

Clark wonders what happened to his.

God, but she's still the most amazing woman he's ever seen, and he's still never once deserved a single part of her. Not even a fraction of a part.

Especially not now.

"Kal," she greets, tone just as neutral as her expression, and Clark aches.

"Clark," he says, just a little too abrupt, and Lois–pauses.

"Clark," she amends casually as she tucks her hands into the pockets of her blazer, and if he didn't know her quite so well he wouldn't have even heard the crack in her voice around his name, super-hearing or not. "Never seen your hair this short. I kinda miss the curl, not gonna lie. It has charm, you know? Very boy scout next door."

"I had emergency brain surgery," Clark says. Lois pauses again. Tilts her head. He keeps talking. "Two weeks ago, now. Just woke up again fully today."

"What?" she says, just staring at him. "You–what happened?"

"It's . . . unclear, still," Clark replies slowly. "But as far as we can tell, roughly fourteen months back an unidentified alien parasite moved into my brain and . . . took me over, essentially. I don't actually–I don't remember any of that time. At all. Then two weeks ago I got electrocuted in Keystone and the parasite died. The surgery was to remove its body so my brain could heal from the damage it did without it rotting in there."

Lois keeps staring at him.

"Fourteen months," she echoes very, very carefully.

"I'm so sorry," Clark says tightly. "Bruce told me I left you. Left you and Jon. That I stopped being . . . myself. I can't imagine how difficult that was, or how it must've felt."

"I can't imagine how waking up and hearing that none of us even noticed you were gone felt," Lois says.

"You never do pull a punch, do you," Clark says with a weak attempt at a smile.

"I'm sorry," Lois says evenly. "I should've known."

"No one did," Clark says, then . . . hesitates. "Or . . . we think no one did."

"You think that's what happened to Kon," Lois says, because of course she's already done the math, and of course she's already had the thought herself. Obviously she would've.

"The timing is . . . likely, at least," Clark says. "And really, if anyone was going to see my face and notice that a different person was wearing it . . ."

"You have a point," Lois murmurs. She steps into the room. Clark wants to hold her. He also wants to bury himself in the coldest, darkest place that he can find and never, ever let himself see the sun again.

He doesn't deserve it anymore.

"I'm so angry that I want to cry," Lois says, her voice very distant and her eyes locked on his. Clark can see her hands fisting in her pockets. "I'm so . . . god. I should've known. You never would've left Jon. Not like that."

"Bruce made it sound like the parasite was . . . very convincing," Clark says. It convinced Bruce, who may just be the most paranoid mind on the planet, so . . .

"It was," Lois agrees, still without taking her eyes off his. "But I still should've known."

Clark blinks a little too quickly. Lois tightens her jaw. Takes her hands out of her pockets and leaves them at her sides instead. Clark never thought he'd see them without her wedding ring again.

"It's been–months, I know," he says, hating himself for thinking he even deserves to say this. "For you. But I still . . ."

"I love you," Lois says. "Come home."

There is no possible world in which he could tell her "no".

Med bay makes him wait for another two hours of observation and runs some scans, but then they let him go. Lois waits with him the whole time. She doesn't call anyone or send any texts. Doesn't leave the room. Barely says a word. Hardly even takes her eyes off him, like she thinks if she blinks he's going to disappear.

Clark can hardly keep her heartbeat out of his ears, so he doesn't blame her.

He doesn't blame her at all.

They go to Smallville. Bruce had said he'd send Dick to pick up Jon from the babysitter's and get him to the farm, and as much as Clark had wanted to go straight to him himself . . .

Ma and Pa first, he reminds himself. This is going to be upsetting for Jon–most likely traumatic, once it all sinks in. And definitely disorienting. It'll be best if as many of the adults in his life as possible know what's going on in advance, so he can go to whoever he needs to go to; get whatever comfort they can prepare themselves to offer.

Clark doesn't know how to do this.

He doesn't . . .

They don't take two steps onto the farm before a familiar blur is crashing into him head-on.

"Oh," Clark manages, and Krypto barks excitedly and flies up to lick his face, tail wagging wildly as he jumps all over him. Like he's missed him. Like he's been waiting for him.

Clark nearly cries again.

"Good boy, Krypto," he tells him, quiet and rough. "I missed you too, boy."

He scratches Krypto's ears. Strokes his back. Krypto nearly bowls him over in delight.

Clark buries his face in his neck and cries a bit after all.

Lois watches.

Waits.

Clark spends . . . maybe a little bit too long crying on his dog, and then they all head up to the house. Ma and Pa are both standing on the porch; presumably they heard Krypto barking. They both look a little bit startled and a little bit confused and a lot more pained at the sight of him, and Clark swallows painfully and stops just before the porch steps.

He looks at them, and he loves them so desperately. Everything they ever did for him, and everything they've ever been to him, and . . .

"I'm sorry," he says. "I just . . . there was . . ."

God, the way this hurts.

"It was mind control," he says. "The past fourteen months or so. I was . . . I wasn't. Wasn't here. Or . . . anywhere."

"Oh," Ma says, and her eyes are instantly wet with tears. Pa blinks very quickly, his hand curling against the porch railing.

"I'm so, so sorry," Clark repeats tightly, his own hands in useless fists. "But I'm–back now. I'm home."

"Oh, Clark," Ma chokes, and then they both throw themselves at him. Clark's been hugged by people with strength far past superhuman, but it's never felt . . .

No. It's never once felt the same way as when his parents do it.

They cling to him. He clings back. Krypto barks again and swoops around the knot of them, wagging his tail hard enough to nearly knock Lois over with the force of wind it stirs up. Definitely some of the porch furniture gets displaced.

Clark feels so much.

They sit together on the porch, Krypto sprawled contentedly across Clark's lap and Lois on the steps beside him. Clark gives Ma and Pa what explanation he can–tells them everything he knows about Keystone and the electrocution and the watchtower and the surgery and waking up. They watch him just as intently as Lois does the entire time.

He doesn't . . . he doesn't mention his suspicions about what might've happened to Kon. Not . . . not yet.

He doesn't know how to. Not to Ma and Pa. Not after he brought the kid here and left him on their doorstep with no real direction and . . .

Just–he'll tell them. He'll tell them soon.

Just . . . not yet.

It's not a very long talk, in the end. Ma and Pa take in everything he says and just take it all in stride, just like they always have. Baby in a spaceship? Kid with superpowers? Son who thinks he can save the whole damn world?

Of course they take it in stride.

Clark loves them too much to even define. Too much to even wrap his own head around. They're the best people he knows. The best people he's ever known.

They don't even think there's anything for him to be sorry for.

It's . . . painful, a little, when Clark realizes that.

Or a lot.

So, so damn painful.

Clark hears the definitely-not-a-Batmobile coming, far down the road. Three heartbeats inside it. Dick, Damian, and . . .

Jon.

Obviously.

Clark strokes Krypto's ears one last time, then gets up. No one asks him why, but he supposes the look on his face must be answer enough right now.

He steps off the porch and goes to wait by the driveway.

It's not that long a wait, but it feels like the better part of eternity.

#clark kent #lois lane #clois #superfamily #bruce wayne #diana of themyscira #anonymous #wip: the parasite

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