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echantedtoon · 1 year ago

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Demon Bride Ch60 The Truth And Holy Matrimony

(WARNINGS!!!:Douma, Karaku, and Enmu ARE their own warnings. Possibly some innuendos. Mentioning of death. Mentioning of Douma being poisoned.

Let's Just say Y/n is wearing a dress similar to the one above to make it easier to picture what she's wearing. Pic found on Pinterest.)

-THIS TAKES PLACE ONE WEEK AFTER CH59-

There was truly something about a wedding ceremony that was able to make even the coldest of demons truly melt... Douma's words. Not his own.

"*sigh* There is truly something about a wedding ceremony that's able to make even my cold heart skip a beat.~ Hmph! It's such a tragedy that I'm banned from attending-"

"You're still recovering from being poisoned you idiot!! And you would embarrass the poor bride!"

He stayed where he stood eyes closed and patiently waiting for Y/n to return from the room a few ladies in waiting were dressing her up for the wedding she was invited to. However he (annoyingly) was not the only one waiting for her. These two were eager to see her off, and even they weren't the only ones. Two others had shown up in the meantime-

"DDDOOOOUUUMMMAAAA!!!"

Daki and Gyutaro had arrived upon being released from their old assignments for Douma and instantly headed here in order to get a look at the now cured Upper Moon Two. Well Gyutaro stood by and just looked embarrassed as his sniffling sister just hugged Douma and sobbed her eyes out.

"I thought you were gonna dddddiiieeee!!! Ahahaaaaa!!!"

Douma patted her head to comfort her. "Oh my poor, Daki. I'm perfectly fine. I'll be even more fine once I get another kiss from my fiance!"

Gyutaro groaned rolling his eyes. He would have to agree with his reaction considering others decided to arrive now.

"Hey!! What's up with all the upper moons getting together? You having fun without us?"

"Nah! They're just discussing who's the better looking brother. Which is me by the way -"

"Urogi! Karaku! SHUT. UP. PLEASE!!! IVE HAD A DAM HEADACHE FOR THREE DAYS BECAUSE OF YOU TWO!!"

"*sigh* So sad to barge in like this but we've caught the third demon who's been killing the human women. We delivered him to Hairou but we thought it'd be best to report our capture to you directly, Lord Kokushibo."

Ah. The four brothers have arriv-

"What's this? Hmm. Did someone get killed? Oh my. Do I get to witness his execution?~"

"What are YOU doing here, Enmu?!," Akaza demanded.

The much smaller demon chuckled. "I came to deliver my begonia some more medicine for her youngling, she mentioned that she needed more in her letter to me."

"I'll take it since I'll be responsible for him for a while."

"Oh. Is Akaza taking over the castle again?"

"Give him the medicine....and be silent all of you." He finally opened his eyes to all of them at last. "After today..all of you return to your normal work ..Aside from Akaza whom shall take my place... until I arrive back."

Enmu hummed in interest. "Oh? Where might you be off to at this this time?"

"That is none of..your business. You are to just...follow orders and do your job."

Enmu cooed in interest but didn't push him on the issue. Wise choice. With a sigh he settled back against the wall where he stood and tried to calculate the fastest route they could take to get there and get back ... He'd tried to get this done in less than a month's time but there wasn't any guarantee that it would be as quick as he would hope. A slide of a door opening quickly caught his attention as he turned his head towards the opening of the Dwell...And quickly all six eyes widened. A few heads turned as two handmaidens stepped out of the house.

"Right this way, My Lady." "Careful. Don't trip now."

A few more heads turned, and all fell silent. Eyes went wide. You stepped out of the Dwell carefully and with the assistance of the two ladies. The flowing kimono sat snug against you and flowed down to the floor. The beautiful light pink graduating to a pretty cherry red at the hem and the end of the long sleeves. A beautiful pattern of cherry blossoms and bright green leaves adorned your dress. Your face was decorated expertly in makeup that didn't take away from your natural face but enhanced your features. Hair pulled up into a styled hairstyle and pinned there with a beautiful hairpin. You thanked the girls before looking up, and pausing at ALL the stares pointed at you. It made you feel sheepish and your hands clasped together in shyness.

"Um...H-Hi." You shuffled a little bit nervously. "So..how do I look?"

THUD!!

There was an instant reaction as Douma, who was the closest to you, fell to his knees and held out his arms to you like you were a goddess. "MARRY ME!~"

"WOULD YOU LEAVE HER ALONE!?" And was instantly yanked back by the collar by Akaza whom growled at him angrily. Douma only smiled at him. "Dam pervert."

Behind him there was an overwhelming reaction-

CHIRP!! Urogi's face went red as he gave out a flustered sparrow squawk and his feathers puffed up. Next to him, Sekido just ..stared. He couldn't take his red eyes off of you, but his grip on his staff increased. Aizetsu's face went red, red, RED in blush- Karaku yelped as Aizetsu leaned to the side in an almost faint and he caught him, but still Karaku might faint too with how much he was blushing. Akaza even was almost as pink as his hair stealing glances at you between holding back Douma whom was still proclaiming his love for you as desperate as a starving man begging for food. Behind them Daki lit up smiling and gushing about.

"I knew my makeup lessons paid off!!" Her hand grabbed her brother's arm and shook him. "Isn't she beautiful, Brother?! Don't just stand there! Compliment her!"

Gyutaro just flusteredly stared. "hmmm...P-...P-Pretty...." Was all he managed to stutter out slack jawed.

Enmu was the only one standing there seeming to be able to speak normally as he giggled like a child getting a new toy and blushed but was still able to think. "Begonia.~ Hold me in your arms.~"

He held out his arms and attempted to approach you but Akaza also pulled him back. "YOU TWO PERVERTS KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF!!"

You giggled at the sight before you all. But fell silent as someone much taller suddenly stepped in front of you and you blinked seeing a purple and black coat. Purple eyes looked up at Kokushibo and stopped at the half lidded stares staring down at you. You both remained silent..Until a strong hand reached up to your face. A single stray strand of hair was pushed aside, a palm resting on your cheek.

"....You are...truly radiant." His hand ran along under your chin and his rumbled with a few deep chuckles as your face flushed a red. Taking a step back, he offered you his arm. "Come... Nakime will take us." You still heavily red cheeked, sheepishly grabbed onto his arm and he began to pull you along. Serious demeanor returning as he faced the others now. "Obey Akaza as if he were me... until I return. Do your own duties...and Akaza...think with a rational mind... without fighting first." He then looked at Akaza straight in the eyes. "Execute the murderers."

STRUM!!

With a strum of a biwa instrument you both disappeared into thin air leaving the gathering of demons behind. You blinked as a moment later you found yourself in a familiar scenery..and your eyes widened as you took in what you saw. You both were in the middle of the woods in front of a beautiful giant mansion. A VERY familiar mansion.

"The Tsuzumi Mansion!" You lit up and turned to Kokushibo who tilted his head to you. "This is where Kyogai is!" He nodded and you excitedly tugged on him. "C'mon! I haven't seen everyone in forever!!'

He obliged walking in a faster pace compared to your movements. Your movements were hindered a bit from the fancy dress but that didn't stop you from moving excitedly to the door not caring if you dragged the more powerful demon behind you. You didn't even bother to knock instead just throwing the sliding door open shocking everyone on the other side. Many women servants stopped and stared... before one yelled out almost in horror.

"L-L-LORD KOKUSHIBO!!!"

Almost immediately everyone bowed nearly dropping everything in their arms you didn't care. You just continued to walk on through the mansion swiveling your head around looking for someone you wanted to see. There wasn't any signs of Kyogai or Kaigaku anywhere however you rounded a corner just as two people exited a room up the hallway. A lady in a pure white wedding kimono and next to her was a man in similar ceremony robes. Behind them was a very tall figure and all three stopped as you squealed happily and turned to you.

"ERI!!" You yelled out happily throwing out your arms and quickly approached the obviously dressed Bride.

The bride turned revealing her four arms and four eyes on her prettily decorated face. All four widened at you before she also threw out her hands. "Y/N!!" She met you first running towards you and soon you were engulfed in a tight hug. "I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN MONTHS!! OH MY GODS!! I WAS SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU WHEN YOU WERE KIDNAPPED!!!" She then forced you out of the hug holding you out for her four eyes to scan you over. "Are you Alright?! You're not hurt are you?!"

You chuckled at her. "No. I'm perfectly fine. But enough about me. Look at you!" You gestured to her. "You look so beautiful!"

"Me? Look at you! Your dress is beautiful. It's like you're the one getting married and I'm the guest."

You chuckled before looking behind her as a man approached and blinked. "Komoki. Is that you?" You vaguely remembered Eri's merdemon fiance but he was walking around on two legs and dressed as handsomely as Eri was beautiful. "Wow. I almost didn't recognize you. You look so handsome!"

Komoki chuckled bashfully before holding up a hand. "It's the legs isn't it? I'm so happy you could make it for the ceremony. Are you here alone?"

You shook your head and looked at Kokushibo whom approached you. "I brought along a guest since you mentioned that I could bring someone."

Both looked behind you. Both froze and went pale. "L-LORD KOKUSHIBO?!"

"Don't bow.." his deep voice stopped the other two demons in the middle of bowing. "We can not stay long....we are only here for the ceremony... and then we are leaving...right after.."

"So soon?" A new but raspy voice spoke up and it was then that you finally noticed the third figure behind the couple.

"Kyogai!" You lit up seeing the taller blue and red eyed demon. Practically running around Eri just to make him freeze up as you hugged him tightly and smiled. "I haven't seen you since that meeting! I missed you so much!!" You looked back up to him. "Are you alright? Did you get the ink stones I sent you!?"

"Uuuuhh..." He stared at the sight of you in a beautiful dress and so pretty looking-

"It is...rude to stare, Lower Moon Six."

"Huh?! OH! Y-YES!! *ahem*" Kyogai cleared his throat and straightening up quickly but with a deep red face. "W-Welcome both of you. Yes. I-I am fine. The repairs to my home are finished as you can see. You also look ... v-v-very beautiful."

You chuckled at him. "Thank you. I hope we're not late."

"N-Not at all. We were just about to begin. The ceremony is taking place in the garden now that it's repaired. Please. Come join us." He jumped into a deeper red as you grabbed his arm.

"Please do! I'm so excited to see it all!"

You were lead to the garden area by a very red Kyogai followed by the confused couple and Kokushibo silently following behind. He decided not to be offended by your excitement at seeing others as they were still fairly courting you and he'd have plenty of time to have you to himself. You all were brought to the garden and it was just as beautiful as you remembered, only there was a few more people there who were dressed up as guests for the ceremony, however they all froze as Kokushibo walked in right behind you all. But he had enough sense to just grab you and take you to the shaded area of the garden to just sit down and hopefully avoid anymore stares and allow Kyogai to direct the attention of the wedding back onto Eri and Komoki. The ceremony lasted for almost two hours as you all just silently watched and listened. Smiling all the while watching Eri try not to cry. She was such a beautiful bride. You were so happy for her. However when the ceremony ended and you were clapping...you were confused when a lady handed Eri a bouquet of flowers and one of her four hands motioned at the crowd.

"All single men and women stand up! I've always wanted to try this!," she gushed happily at Komoki one arm holding onto him.

You confused leaned towards Kokushibo as a flurry of excited women and a few men gathered in front of the door you came in through to get in the garden. "What's going on?"

"It's a western... wedding custom. The bride ..turns her back on the unmarried guests...and throws her flowers...They say whomever catches the...flowers will be the ones whom marry next."

"How do you know this?"

"Lord Muzan's wife...had the same custom at their own wedding...I was the one whom accidentally...caught her flowers."

You snickered at the thought of Kokushibo catching a bouquet of flowers but stopped when Eri turned around and got ready to throw the flowers. Seeing as you weren't technically single, you opted to just watch and see who the lucky person was. ERI readied herself as her arms reached forward just as the door slid open. Quickly her arms shot backwards and released. The crowd cheered and a few fell over in their reaching and scramble to catch it as it soared just above their reach and towards the open door.

A figure in black stepped out. "What the hell is with a the no-"

SMACK!!

With an exact smack to the middle of his face, the figure was sent stumbling backwards and with a thud collapsed back into the mansion with a sputtering of curses. Everyone watching as he took off. Wait...you knew that cursing voice.

"Kaigaku!" You quickly stood up and hurried for the doorway. Stopping and looking inside. "Are you alright?!"

There was a few seconds of him just cursing and leaning up. A pretty bouquet of white roses fell from his chest to his lap as he sat up but stopped when he saw you standing there looking over him. Blue eyes widened as he looked you slowly up and down. And stared at your face- THUD, THUD, THUD, THUD- You both looked down...and you giggled seeing that his tail was wagging thudding against the floor-

"What the-?!" He growled and grabbed his tail picking it back up off the floo- Smack, smack, smack- His tail still wagged hitting his face s few times before he growled louder and gripped it with both hands. You giggled harder and he snapped back to you. "Oh shut up! I won't be laughed at by my woman!!"

There was a sudden uproar of cheers behind you and both of you looked behind you at a happily clapping crowd smiling at you both. You turned an embarrassed red and Kaigaku rose a brow.

"What the hell happened while I was gone this time?"

"I'll... explain it to you later."

You did. After Kokushibo materialized out of nowhere scaring Kaigaku and giving your good byes to Eri and Komoki, and letting you bid good bye to Kyogai and promising to return soon. The both of you were then accompanied by Kaigaku whom INSISTED he'd walk with you to the forest's border he guarded where you explained to him the marriage custom Eri had tried out. He expectedly changed a deep red color as well. Sputtering a few words that sounded like 'be quiet' when you giggled at his obviously flustered face.

"K-Knock it off! W-What are you doing heading towards the border anyways?", he questioned raising a brow at you.

"I'm leaving for a little while." His brows shot up in shock. "I need to take of a few things back home and then I'm returning."

"WHAT?! YOU'RE JUST LEAVING!? WHAT IF SOME MAN TRIED SNATCHING YOU UP AGAIN?! YOU CAN'T LEAVE!!"

"Kaigaku.." Kokushibo stopped walking and he instantly stopped as his sensai turned his head to him. "You have your orders...to stay here at your post and guard...the border....I will be accompanying her myself to her.... village and back...Do you doubt my abilities?"

"No."

"Then you will not question it....You may accompany us as far as the border...but that is as far as you travel with us ... Understood?"

He scowled off but nodded...but looked up at you when you grabbed his hand. "It's going to be ok. I promise I'll come back and I never break my promises." You then pulled his along with you. "Come on. Walk with me."

He said nothing as you three walked along the giant trees giving Kokushibo comforting shade to be able to walk in until you all reached an end to the treeline. You recognized this place immediately and turned to Kokushibo.

"This is where I first entered." His head tilted as you pointed down the hill to your left. "I came up from the mountain in that direction."

"Then that is where we will start."

You then looked at him. "How though? You can't walk in the sun. We'll have to wait until nightfall then-"

He silenced you as you looked up at him and noticed he wore one of those giant weaved hats you sometimes saw travelers wear. It casted a long shade over his entire head and neck. His long sleeves covering his hands. But what surprised you the most was his face ..It was no longer a face of a demon.

HE LOOKED HUMAN!!

A human looking Kokushibo was staring down at you with two calm half lidded eyes and smiling at you. "I will...be fine. It only burns exposed skin so as long as I am careful...I will have nothing to fear. Let us go now."

You turned to Kaigaku whom remained silent and gave his hand another squeeze, before you let him go and followed Kokushibo out into the sun light and down towards the way you first came. Kaigaku stood there between two trees watching you both walk across the field of tall grass and down on the long abandoned pathway.Even as you two turned into nothing but two specks again the horizon. His hands clenched up into fists and for the second time ever in Kaigaku's life...he shed tears.

The first day of travel had begun. You were surprised when Kokushibo didn't let you change into a less fancy dress but you supposed he really did just want this to be over with although you were grateful that the dress didn't have a hem that trailed behind you. You had to hang onto his arm to keep up. By first nightfall you started to grow worried.

"It's getting late. We should stop and camp for the ni- EEP!?"

Your face went red as you were literally picked up by the man and held to his chest as he continued to walk but this time much faster and with longer strides when you were walking with him. "We will get there...faster ifI carry you through the night...Rest."

Your face went redder as he walked with you in his arms... before hiding your face in your sleeves and hearing him chuckle. It was like Akaza all over again. You fell asleep and woke up the next day to Kokushibo nearing a town. Upon noticing you were awake, he placed you down and both of you continued on your way. You recognized this town as the last one you encountered before you first stumbled into the forest. Kokushibo stopped and bargained with a nearby farmer for food before you also continued on your way. The next few days were the same as you both got closer and closer to where you came from. After a few more days, you passed by the second town you encountered on your way through, and bargained with a few more people with more supplies before again continuing your decent down the mountain. The more you recognized, the more anxious and nervous you felt. Eventually coming to a most familiar sight indeed. A stream running across the land and you stared at it long enough to get Kokushibo to stop.

"This is the stream I would've waited at." You continued to stare at the clear pretty running water as is softly continued along on its journey.

He stared at you before at the stream again. "For your future husband?" You nodded. "I see..." You squealed again as he lifted you up and crossed across the small stream in two steps. "It is a good thing...I have then."

"K-Kokushibo!! P-P-Put me down before we get to my village!!"

He did with a small smile and you continued to stare red faced as you all continued past the stream and down, down, down the mountain...until you saw it. From high above on the mountain you saw the same familiar sight of your village. After all these months, it still looked the same. Kokushibo must've sensed your reluctance because hr grabbed you by the hand but continued to pull you along with him down the rest of the way. Your stomach dropped and your nerves flared but still you forced yourself to walk onwards. You both approached the town. You both got to the entrance of the town. And you both walked in. Almost immediately you were getting stares from people whom stopped and stared at you both walking through, no doubt due to your strange fancy dress and Kokushibo's impressive presence. Eventually he stopped in the middle of the town and you finally had the guts to look around. The sounds of farm animals and people going about their daily lives were familiar to you but the stares you were getting was wide eyed awe or surprise or curiosity. Eventually Kokushibo looked at you.

"Where... should we start? Your supposed...parents and grandmothers graves?"

You snapped out of it and you looked up at him before you shook your head. "Uh..N-No. Their graves mean they're dead, and the dead can't help us."

"Your old home then?"

You again shook your head. "It was crumbling to the ground and I had nothing there. If there was something I would've already seen it after so many years."

"Then perhaps...your village elders know something ...you do not?"

You paused.. before looking up at him wide eyed. "Elder Kagaya! He's been here for longer than I have, and he's pretty wise. Even if he doesn't know anything about where I came from, he might know something that might help me." You quickly looked around before tugged on him towards the right. "Come! His home is this way!"

He allowed you to tug him in the direction you pointed out and you quickly tugged him along. House after house and people after people you passed earning a few looks but you still pulled him along until you pointed out one big building to him that was just slightly bigger than the others.

"That's his home! We should be able to see him there." He usually stayed there with his children and wife anyways.

He didn't say anything but allowed you to pull him up to the building and knock on the door hard. The knocking reverberated off the inside and there was silence for a long moment until footsteps approached and the door slid open to reveal a child. Not just any child, one of the Elders children. You didn't know which one as they all looked alike other than their one brother but she stared up at you both with a smile.

"Do you have a meeting?", she asked you.

"No. But it's very important for me to see him anyways. Please tell him that Y/n is here to see him." The girls eyes widened in surprise.. before the door quickly closed and footsteps hurried away from you both. "We'll have to wait a moment."

"I don't suppose... you'll tell me if you're alright?...You seemed anxious the moment we got close."

You sighed before reaching a hand up to rub your head. "Let's just say that I might've left with a bad taste in everyone's mouth when I ran away. I did some bad things."

He didn't get a chance to respond when the door quickly opened again and the girl was back. "Please follow me. He'll see you now."

You both looked at each other..but followed the girl inside one by one. She lead you down a hallway and then to a room at the end of the hallway to the right. She glanced over you both again before just opening the door and bowing.

"They're here, Father."

"Ah. Excellent. Please allow them to come in," a calm man's voice said. You looked at Kokushibo again... before looking forward and walked forward. Slowly coming to the doorway and stopping there. Inside was a very familiar looking blind man looking your way with a calm smile. "Y/n. It is so good to hear from you again. I thought we had seen the last of you." He gestured for you to come over. "Please come in. You and your friend."

You slowly did so. Walking in and noticing that he was with two more of his children who also stared at you. You slowly sat down across from him with Kokushibo following behind calmly. You felt guilty and ashamed under his blind stare although he still smiled at you.

"I admit this is quite a surprise. We haven't seen you in nearly a year. What brings you back to us?"

...You inhaled and exhaled slowly before steeling your gaze. "Firstly I'd like to apologize to you and everyone else for the mess I made when I left. I'm sorry I caused such a fuss, but I don't regret doing it because I how my life turned out. So.." you bowed your head. "I apologize for that."

He didn't change his look but tilted his gaze at you. "Hm. I doubt you came all the way back after so long just to apologize. Tell me, who is the person next to you?"

"Her husband."

You jumped as Kokushibo suddenly spoke with such a blunt and deep tone. It almost sounded threatening. "N-No. He's my fiance!"

"Not much.. difference."

You shot him a look but Kagaya only chuckled. "My, my. An unexpected surprise but a welcome one. I was not expecting such a thing to transpire. "

"Was it not your intention...for her to marry in the first place? Perhaps your people should...take better consideration of your women...in the future."

"Hm. I will take your words to heart. Now what do I owe you two the pleasure?"

Be blunt. Straight to the point. "When I left here, I found out some things about where Im from." Your fists gripped your hands. "I was never actually related to anyone who lived in this village. My grandmother was never really my grandmother..And my parents were none of the ones that passed away. So I ask you...Where did I come from and where is the family Tamayo?''

There was silence as the girls looked at one another. Kokushibo and you silently looked at the Elder. And Kagaya hummed after a moment and frowned.

"Ah...I knew this time would come. I was hoping to discuss it sometime with you during your wedding ceremony, but it seems like I was wrong."

"YOU KNEW THIS ENTIRE TIME?!" You gawked at him in shock as he sighed.

"Forgive me for not telling you sooner. I wanted too..but your guardian did not deem it a good time. ...But I suppose you deserve the truth." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "A little over twenty years ago there was a woman whom traveled through here with a man she claimed was her partner. She went by the name Tamayo yes." You lit up and looked at Kokushibo whom only calmly stared back at him. "She came to treat the sickened ones in our village but unfortunately it was too late for a few. The children of your Grandmother being two of them. For whatever reason unknown to me Ms. Tamayo wouldn't accept any money for her deeds. Instead she requested that we raise her child in exchange for her services...She never disclosed the reasons why, only that she wanted a safer environment for you and that we never tell you until you were old enough to understand. Your grandmother was the only one whom agreed to take you in at the time and so it was done. She left a few days after we buried the dead."

You still stared at him half in shock...but he didn't speak again. Eventually you pushed him for more. "And?! There has to be more to that?! Didn't she ever send you a letter or anything?!''

He shook his head no slowly. "No. Nothing. She left rather quickly. The last that I heard she had passed away in the town of Asakusa a little more than Twenty years ago. I'm so sorry."

You continued to stare at him..but he said no more so you deflated. Even Enmu mentioned she had passed away.. maybe she actually did and this was fruitless. "...Thanks..One other thing. What happened to Sanemi? I didn't see him when I came in." He usually was the one guarding the Elders home.

He slowly smiled with a chuckle. " I'm afraid Mr. Sanemi no longer resides here. He and his new wife are living with her family. Ms. Kanae didn't want to leave her home."

You lit up. So Kanae was married to Sanemi after all. At least you're plan had something good come from it.

"I see..." You bowed again to him and stood up. "Thank you for clearing so much of this up for me. I won't be staying here, and we're leaving now. But do me one favor. Please tell Mitsuri I'm very sorry for everything."

He only nodded with that smile. "I will. I wish both of you luck wherever fate takes you. Hinata will see you out."

The same girl stood up as did Kokushibo whom turned and followed you out of the door and out of the building entirely until you both were standing outside once again in silence. Listening to the sounds of people just walking around going about their lives and the farm animals before he turned to you.

"Have you... gotten the answers that satisfy you?"

You still stared taking everything in before inhaling. "I need to go to Asakusa." You looked back to Kokushibo. "I need to know what happened. And if she is really dead...then I would at least like to visit her grave at least once."

He didn't say anything at first before looking forward and began walking making you blink. "Asakusa is many a days journey....from here. I wish...to get this entire thing done...under a month's time... Come. We will..leave immediately...and return soon."

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foxstens · 2 years ago

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im losing my miiiiiiiiiind

#my posts #gameblogging #liveblogging hollow knight #ive entered the radhog grind #all the easy bosses are down and now its time to pray #i beat white defender soul tyrant and the watcher knights toda #so i cant say im not making progress #but jesus christ ive fought the oblobbles and sob so many times #SO MANY TIMES #and yet #with sob the best ive done is get one of them to like a third health #and then i died #with the oblobbles most of the time i just die during the first phase #for various reasons #the few times i get to the second phase i die when its at like 20% health #with sob its frustrating bc it shouldnt be hard #even the watcher knights barely took me any time and i cant say i know that fight super well #idk i guess this too is one of those fights that i personally just have a lot of trouble with #ive never really enjoyed it tbh and i still dont #but heck im dreading thinking about how long itll take to beat zote and markoth #and galien #ill prob do absrad before i do any of those #if ican get past these two somehow #:(

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jeonfiles · 4 years ago

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better left unsaid - jjk

genre: angst, rebounds

pairings: jungkook x reader (ft. namjoon)

warnings: arguing, alcohol, profanity, break ups, light smut, use of drugs, jungkook is a fucking dick, jungkook has major attachment issues, toxic relationships, oc cries a lot, namjoon has a heart of gold, unrequited love

synopsis: you knew you shouldnt have given him that second chance, not the third or the fourth either. no matter how much you try he always slithers his way underneath your sheets, arms wrapped around you.

word count: 2.7k

music: into your arms, so it ends?, you will fade, thinkin bout you, julia, my insecurities not yours, fuck u, goodluck, my dear i will think of you

note: uhh ive never written a y/n fic so bare with me, if u listen to the music you’ll be able to feel the story a lot more so yeah if u have time u should, not proof read

Light coming through the cracks of the blinds, making you squint your eyes when the daylight beams into your eyes, head resting on the kitchen island Looking up, you saw the clock ticking on the wall, 11:32 am.

You had stayed up till 5 am, waiting for him to come home, but seemingly, he never did. Reaching for your phone, you saw 4 missed calls from the one and only,

Jeon Jungkook, saved in your phone as “Koo <3″, Rows of messages too, all from the same contact.

Koo <3 [05:34 am]

baby pkck me up pleseee

im so wsated

Koo <3 [06.46am]

dont be mad at me jsut pick me up

i dont knw hewere the fuck i am

i love you

Koo <3 [07:31 am]

i got a rde home i’ll be home by 12

i need to talk to someone frsit

im sorry if i woke ypu dont be worried

You took a few moments to collect your thoughts, but there wasn’t much to collect. This whole thing, was a routine by now.

Standing up to make yourself a cup of coffee, you could literally not feel your own backside, you were so sore from the barstool you had been sitting on all night, and it made you groan in pain.

Two coffee cups right beside the kitchen sink, which you couldn’t bring yourself to clean up, because it was from the last time you had coffee together, which was 2 weeks ago.

The inside of the cup had a coffee crust at the top, and both your lip tint marks on the outside.

When you finish your cup of coffee while watching a bad telenovela, you go sit in your favorite chair and pull out a few books from the backpack hanging on the chair next to you, getting ready to get some studying done.

For a few seconds you imagine Jungkook hanging over your shoulder laughing at the way you write your A-s and R-s, or the way you always sign your homework at the bottom of the page.

And when you open them, there’s no one there. The only sound is from the refrigerator, making refrigerator noises.

You had met Jungkook 3 years ago, when you were at college orientation, senior year of high school. He also wanted to attend Yonsei, just like you.

And when he whispered to you about how bored he was, you couldn’t help but giggle, and then you got yelled at.

It was worth it though, because everyone was jealous of you afterwards,the Jeon Jungkook had talked to you.

Jungkook was an all-rounder as they called it; great physique, intelligent, charismatic and great at sports.

And god, he had a beautiful face, and such a filthy mouth, and it didn’t go long before you gave in to his seductive ways and slept with him. The morning after, he wasn’t in bed with you, and your heart sank.

Luckily, he was in the kitchen making you breakfast.

It was all bliss from there, showering you with love, gifts and kisses for two years, and you even ended up moving in together.

And now? You barely remember what he sounds like, smells like and is like.

A distant memory, just as distant as him.

Your train of thought was suddenly interrupted as you heard 3 knocks on your door. The exact same way he had always knocked when he had forgotten (or lost) his keys.

And even though you should have let him suffer a little, you rushed to the door to open it, and in front of you, was your biggest nightmare.

It was your love, crying his eyes out, bleeding from one of many cuts on his face, looking nearly dead. He collapsed into your arms, and you could only utter a few words, along the lines of:

“How could you do this to us?”

As he was laying curled up in a ball on the couch, face plastered up, ice bag on his knee, wrapped up in a blanket, you realized. this was your que to cry.

So, you did. You cried in silence, sitting across the room from him. You weren’t mad at him for coming home late, or getting in another fight, probably the 5th just these past months, you had gotten used to that by now.

There was a whole other reason that made you cry.

He smelled like Victorias Secret Bombshell, you recognized the scent because it used to be your favorite, however, now you’ve moved onto something less sweet, and more elegant, like Caroline Herrera.

He smelled like someone who wasn’t you, his girlfriend.

He smelled like another girl.

It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. Maybe because the Jungkook that had come home to you that morning wasn’t your Jungkook.

Your Jungkook was varsity jackets, star of the american football team (which your school was known for), selfless and humorous, and he would always take care of you.

Your Jungkook was not ungroomed hair, cigarettes and worsening grades. He was not cold and lifeless, and he would never make you cry.

Despite this, you were carding your fingers though his hair, thumb wiping away the blood on his lips while he was sound asleep as you slowly fell asleep next to him.

Maybe it was time to let him go.

Maybe.

You woke a few hours later from your phone vibrating.

Kim Namjoon (school) [07:01 pm]

Hey Y/N! Have you started working on the statistics assignment?

If you haven’t, would you be interested in meeting at the library tomorrow? You’re really smart and i’m kinda struggling ://

You [07:03 pm]

i finished it yesterday, but if you buy me coffee i’ll come help you hehe

Kim Namjoon (school) [07:04 pm]

You’re the best, I’ll bring you a machiatto!! :D

Maybe it would be nice for you to get out of the house, even though you hate the thought of it, and you would much rather just swim in your own sorrow.

But you did go out the next day, and you helped Namjoon get a decent grade, enough to pass with good margines, he thanked you by taking you out for ramen at a convenial store not too far away.

You thanked him for the ramen with a trip to the museum, and he thanked you for the museum trip with a picnic in the park at night, which led you to crying over Jungkook in his embrace, telling him every single little detail.

He made you realize it was time to let Jungkook go and make room for new people to enter your life.

You went home that night, and you found Jungkook passed out on the couch, and you could genuienly feel your chest tighten. Soft features which stood out under the moonlight glow, disheveled brown locks which hung down in his eyes.

He was gorgeous, until you saw the credit card on the table next to three bottles of soju and an empty beer can on the floor. And you knew what he had used the credit card for, though you didn’t want to say it out loud.

You cleaned everything up, and you threw the residue of the white powder right in the trash can, and you recycled his bottles and cans before finally, nudging him to wake up.

“Jungkook, wake up.” You spat coldly, or at least you attempted to.

He groaned, rubbing his eyes before opening his eyes, and s huge smile on his face. “Y/N, you’re home!” He reached to kiss you, but you backed away.

“Y/N?” Jungkook questioned, he didn’t quite understand what your intentions were.

“Don’t try anything Jungkook. This was your last chance, and you fucked it up, again.” The room turned ice cold. “I’m getting you help Jungkook, you need help. And then...”

He understood what kind of help you meant, and since he had now sobered up, he agreed, nodding. “And then...?”

“And then.” Your words were ludged in your throat. “And then I’m leaving you.”

His whole face dropped, smile turned into the frowniest frown you had ever seen, and it was all silent before his lower lip starts trembling, and his eyes start turning glassy.

“It’s alright. Sorry for burdening you.” Was all he could say before tears rushed down his cheeks, and he started shaking.

So you did what you always had done, and you wrapped your arms around him, head resting on your chest as he sobbed.

“Is there anyone else?” he cried out before another wave of sobs hit him.

This exact question made your stomach hurt, and your throat burn. You really had no idea.

Or you did, but you didn’t want to.

You loved Jungkook so much, but you couldn’t be with him in this state. So you did what every rational person would do in this situation.

“Yeah.”

You lied.

“Oh ok. I don’t have the right to be mad do I?”

You shake your head no.

“I love you Y/N. I’m sorry I’m so messed up.”

“It’s ok.” was all he said before he fell asleep in your arms again.

That night you slither your way out of his embrace and you pack your suitcase in the dark, bringing all your essentials, trying to be as quiet as possible so you didn’t wake Jungkook.

Packing enough for two weeks or so, you make the bed and leave your t-shirt “accidentally” in the bathroom, and you make sure all his clothes are folded, and then you sort his pencil case, throwing out old pens and worn out erasers.

You leave a grocery list on the counter, and you tuck him in good under the blankets after you took his jeans and socks off so he could sleep comfortably.

You placed his vitamins and medicine by the refrigerator so he’ll see it when he goes to grab something to eat.

Puffed up pillows, a pair of sweatpants, t-shirt and underwear is now placed neatly on his bed. Then you walk into the kitchen again, and you see Jungkook still sound asleep, sniffling a little still.

There’s one last thing, and it makes you cry. It makes you sob so loud you cover your mouth and muffle the sound you make. Sinking to the floor, your whole body is in contact with the cold tiles.

Only a year ago you could never imagine yourself even shedding a single tear over something as small as this, but here you were, on the edge of a panic attack.

Two worn out, matching couple mugs still placed by the counter. one if the first things you two had bought together, as well as the necklace hanging around your neck.

Finally, you stopped crying and started cleaning the mugs, lip trembling as you dried them and placed them in the back of the cabinet.

You unhooked your necklace and laid it down on the counter, and the biggest lump formed in your throat.

Actually, there’s a little detail you forget.

You kiss Jungkook on the forehead and leave a note on the coffee table.

“Dear Jungkook,

If you want to make this up to me (this does not mean a new chance!!) you call the number at the bottom of the page. No matter what happens, I’ll always have room for you in my heart. You even have your own little VIP lobby in there. And - if it’s urgent, call. I still care for you, and I always have. You were the best boyfriend I’ve had, but good things always come to and end, don’t they? Anyways, I’m tired so this letter fucking sucks, but deep down you know how much I love you. Remember to get groceries, shower, get fresh air and study. If I forgot something you can keep it, as long as you call the number and tell them you’re my friend. They’ll help you love. Try and get a part time job too, your student loan and your dad’s money won’t last forever. Good luck Koo. Hwaiting!!

-L/N Y/N <33″

You cringe when you think of the letter’s contents, before you roll out your suitcase out of the front door, whispering a faint “Goodnight Love.” as you close and lock the door behind you.

Standing by the elevator, you cry again. This time, louder, but you still reach for your phone and type out a text to the newly edited contact in your phone.

You [02:13 am]

coming outside now, im a crying mess and im super cold, is your car heated?

sorry for making you wait btw :((

Joonie <3 [02:13 am]

dont worry about the crying part, i’ll hold you. and yeah car is heated, so waiting here wasnt all that bad. you ready for this?

You [02:14 am]

i have no idea but i cant stay here any longer and i trust you sooo

lets start our new chapter. eh?

4 months later...

He had been good to you, great even.

You had been on expensive dates, picnics, had heart to heart conversations, and he’d been so understanding.

Today, it was your 2 month anniversary, and he had asked you on a magnificent date, which he had planned every second of.

At the end of the day, you told him how you don’t love him. He said it was alright. Namjoon loved you, so much, yet he understood you needed time.

You went to sleep that day, warm in Namjoon’s embrace, wondering how Jungkook was doing.

You felt bad, but you missed Jungkook.

You were both with someone new now, and you knew he was in good hands with someone stable enough to care for him.

Before your eyes closed shut, you shed a few quiet tears and hoped that you’d fall in love with Namjoon soon, and deep down you knew you would.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #namjoon smut #jungkook ff #bts ff #bts imagines #bts scenarios #namjoon ff #bangtan smut #jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk ff

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wyn-n-tonic · 4 years ago

Text

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part V

Word Count: 2,005 Warnings: PTSD. Allusions to sex (it borders on the edge of smut but we should know by now I'm shit at that). Hint of a praise kink. Bit of marking kink. Death. Ben Affleck. Author's Note: The last few chapters have taken a lot out of me, I put a lot of my own experiences with PTSD and mental health into them. I tried to make this fluffy, I needed that comfort after a hard week and I feel lighter for it. As always, thank you so much for your kind words and loving this like I do.

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

“Fuck you.” Benny stares straight into Tom’s eyes. "This is my fuck you money.” The held breaths are louder than gunshots, waiting for a reaction that doesn’t come.

Cold Camp Davis grunts a laugh, “We don’t have enough men to carry all this money so we might as well be warm.”

Benny giggles like a child as he grabs a strap, zippo clicking to ignition again.

The laughter that bubbles up is like a light, warmer than the thousands of dollars burning bright against his eyes.

Frankie, you might as well take your salary out on the front lawn and pour some kerosene on it.

He hears it so clearly in his head and in his heart, Leah teasing him for all the lights being on the first time he took her home.

Tom stands up, dumping an entire case down to tinder in the cold air.

Eight dates in and she’d already witnessed one of his attacks. It was the third date, he’d wanted to take her home that night. His body on hers for hours. Wanted to make breakfast the next morning, having already committed to memory the way she takes her coffee. Instead, she spent that night holding tightly to his hands as his panic crescendoed in the backseat of his car.

If it wasn’t then that he realized he loved her, it was in the way she turned to look at him when he quietly said,

The lights being on make me feel safe.

It wasn’t pity, like he’s used to. It wasn’t the look somebody gives a broken man with a broken mind and a broken soul. The only change he found in the already soft features was an understanding behind the dark eyes staring back at him.

This fire makes him feel safe now.

He’s always straining in the dark. It’s not just about watching his six. It’s all twelve hands on deck with two eyes and a ringing in his ears so intense he can feel it in his toes.

But here? It beats back against the edges of gloom that have continuously threatened to consume him.

He can sweep enclosed spaces in minutes, assess the situation and the danger within. It’s a lot harder in the extended wilds, nothing but the moon to guide the eye.

Before Leah—and for a while there after—he combed room for room upon his arrival home. He’d ask her to stay in the car, his conceal carry coming out as soon as the door would swing open.

He’d sheepishly grin, collecting her from the passenger side after his survey and she’d hug him. Holding tightly around his middle section, pressing her cold hands up under his shirt to that hot place where his heart beats and whisper with genuine gratitude,

Thank you for protecting me, Frankie.

It was never condescending, that’s all he ever wanted to do. Protect her. Protect himself. Protect the men giggling like schoolboys around him right now.

And he liked being told what a good job he did at that. —————

“What's Frankie short for?” Barely audible, her breath fanning across his chest as she continues to catch it. Like willing waves of normalcy in the aftermath of a hurricane.

“Francisco.”

“Francisco,” she repeats, dragging out the o. “Do you like it?”

“Used to make me feel like I was in trouble, very harsh coming from pissed off higher ups and even angrier parents but it sounds…” he thinks on that for a second, the events of the night still rippling through his body, “a lot sweeter in your mouth.”

“Watch yourself,” she hums a kiss into the flat plane of his breast before sinking her teeth into the flesh there, biting as hard as she can.

A chuckle vibrates from deep within him, “one hell of a bite too, I won’t soon forget.”

He looks down into her eyes, bright with mischief as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth now. He’d had hickeys before but never like this. He surveys the purple marks across his body, somehow burning brighter than the rest of him, and a contentedness pools in the pit of his stomach. Her stamps on him in easily hidden spaces to match the lipstick stains she’s started marking across his right cheek in the moments before they walk into the bar or the restaurant.

Little ways she says mine.

And he is hers. He knows it in the steady way his lungs rise and fall underneath her now.

He brushes a soft wave from where it tickles across her nose, “is Leah short for anything?”

Her nose scrunches, “not a goddamn thing.”

“Do you know what it means then?” His large hand is sprawled across her lower back, the weight of it an anchor.

Don’t leave me, it says.

“I don’t know,” she drawls, the slight twang coming forward in moments of exhaustion and inebriation, “just think my mama liked the sound of it is all.”

His heart is blazing underneath her cheek as she settles against him once more, her soft voice tumbles towards him, “Francisco…” as her eyelashes brush against his skin and he swears he can count them all on sensation alone.

“Yeah, baby?”

He feels a smile tug at her lips, stopped in its tracks where she’s rooted into him. It’s the first time he’s called her that.

“I have nightlights.”

The light makes her feel safe too. —————

He’s standing over Tom’s body and he hates to admit it but the feeling washing over him is one of relief.

Relief mingled with guilt.

Guilt that nobody was watching his six, his back wide open to the world behind it. Five seasoned fucking veterans and nobody watching the higher ground.

Relief at the silence he knows will engulf the group now. No more orders from a child who should’ve never been granted the lead to begin with.

Guilt because he was climbing up a fucking rock when he should’ve been doing his job as a friend and brother.

Relief that it wasn’t his brains splashed across stone.

His head is fucking pounding and it has been for days, pain dulled by consistency but never not there.

At least I can feel my fucking head.

He thinks of all the other things he can feel now, the things service beat from his body.

The ache in his limbs, heavy with exhaustion.

He’s dreading adding the dead weight of a dead body to the load.

The pang in his stomach, too used to consistently hot food.

He wants black coffee and bacon and tiny spoonfuls of sweet potato puree he airplanes into his own mouth to show Luna it won’t hurt her. Hell, he’d take the mushed peas right now.

Benny’s sobbing. The one amongst them all that never breaks is the broken one now.

He’s staring off again at everything and nothing, Santiago and Will unfurling bags for the body.

What a present to bring home.

It was always the risk they faced, they knew it.

If you were lucky, truly lucky, you came home whole. Untouched, unscathed, unmarred. The safe deployments, the technical shit, the brains behind the operations never seeing bloodshed. Everybody else though? Some were held together by duct tape and pure grit.

Others tied up in a flag with a bow.

Daddy’s not coming home but here’s a purple heart for the dress uniform he’ll never wear again.

I should’ve done more.

He’s not getting a purple heart for this.

I should’ve held on tighter.

He didn’t die in service to his country, he died in service to himself.

I should’ve made a bigger issue of the weight.

Another family he’s failed to protect.

I should’ve said no. —————

The darkness is cut through with a warm glow in every outlet as the clock tips over the edge of midnight.

Wednesday, the eleventh of October.

Nose to nose, the excitement of the day hangs over them like a wave threatening to crash. A giddiness in their bed forcing sleep to the edges of thought.

“Do you think they’re gonna know?” Her voice is soft, featherlight. Trying not to disturb the peaceful bubble they find themselves in now.

“No,” he lifts to press his lips gently into hers, “but I can’t promise I won’t shout it out on the altar.”

Panic takes her eyes, he knows it all too well and he’s gripping tighter before she can inhale. Fingers splayed across the small of her back, the weight of it a comfort to the tender bones and aching muscles.

I'm right here, it says.

“Breathe, breathe,” he’s speaking softly into her hair, “it was just a joke, baby.”

“You're not funny, Francisco Morales.” She speaks it like a fact, like she doesn’t spend hours in his arms filling his head with the music of her laughter. She says it like he isn’t watching smile lines appear in real time, falling more in love with each one.

“Would it be so bad though? If I did? If people knew?” It’s hope in his voice that she’ll say yes. That he can announce to his best friends all at once, every single one, before Santi leaves again. He doesn't want his happiness to arrive by text message. He wants to see the light of congratulation dancing around him.

“I don’t want to jinx it,” she’s scared, “besides… it’s not traditional.”

He scoffs, “what about us has ever been traditional, mi alma?”

“I'll make you a deal,” her fingers run through the stubble along his jaw, thumbs lingering over the patches, “don’t shave this tomorrow and you can tell the boys.”

“You want me to keep this malnourished shit on my face? For our wedding?”

Her giggles vibrate against him, “Yes. I have plans for it after you say I do.”

He growls, “this deal sounds pretty sweet to my lazy soul, what do you get out of it?”

“Hmm…” she brings her hand up to tap on her chin, “well, to begin, I’m getting a hot husba—”

“Debatable.”

“I'll fuck you up, Morales, take the compliment.”

He laughs a kiss into her, “what else?”

“Benny and Will will become automatic attack dogs around me, I’m fairly certain they will clear their schedules for all of April to stand guard outside the room. My own personal security team.”

He laughs again at the truth in her words, “what else?”

She pushes forward again, taking his lip between hers. A soft kiss with the burning desire for more.

“I’ll wake up on Thursday morning with a rawness between my legs that I’m usually only gifted on the weekends.”

His grip tightens, any suggestion of sleep leaving his body in a rush of blood straight through him, “I will never shave again.”

“Don't threaten me with a good time, my love.”

He rolls himself into her at that, kissing down her jaw. Her neck. The sensitive skin of her breasts, low lying cotton barely above indecency. He raises the hem, the curve of her belly burning hot against his lips, two hearts now beating inside her.

He grabs the elastic around her hips and gently pulls, kisses so soft across her pelvis they feign an innocence to his true intentions. Her legs kick out to help discard the fabric tangling her ankles as he settles broad shoulders at the base of her being.

Her fingers twirl through the soft curls that have been crushed against a pillow for hours by her side.

He kisses her soft thighs, slowly dragging his rough cheek against the delicate flesh.

“Francisco,” her fingers flex tighter as he looks up to meet her eyes, “don’t be such a fucking tease.”

He smiles wide, the devilish grin splitting his face as he drops his eyes to where she wants him, the fever that’s taken over her body in the last three months beckoning him in.

His hands are heavy on her hips, clenching deep purple into her. Marks in easily hidden spaces, his little ways of saying mine.

#frankie morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #francisco morales #i believe in francisco morales supremacy #triple frontier #fanfic #fanfiction #pedro pascal #oc #ofc #original character #original female character #francisco catfish morales #pedro pascal fanfiction

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schnitzelbutterfingers · 4 years ago

Text

The Stroke of Midnight (Ethan Ramsey x f!MC)

Book/Pairing(s): Open Heart/ Dr. Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Dr. Abigail “Abby” Chacko)

Word Count: 2175

Summary: How would they get their New Year’s kiss if there are obstacles in their way?

Category: Angst with a happy ending

Warning(s): hospitalization (car accident, coma, fainting, depression, anxiety) kissing (ofc, it’s New Year’s Eve-)

______________________________________________________________

December 29th, 2020 (9:52 P.M.)

Abby loathed it.

She loathed wearing those damn masks that made her suffocate. She loathed wearing at least three pieces of clothing, which got her all sweaty and sticky. Best of all, she loathed COVID-19.

Damn every single human that doesn’t know how to social distance.

She got it. She knew how it felt to not spend time with her dear friends. She knew how it felt to not go to gorgeous beaches and get her tans.

But this whole pandemic would be over if everyone followed the damn rules. People are acting as if they are seeing their families for the first time. Airplanes flying across the sky with every seat filled. Beaches filled with women in bikinis and men in shorts. Parties filled with people and alcohol.

Abby is wholeheartedly done.

She recollected how Seb and Amma when they couldn’t come to Boston for the Christmas and New Year’s celebrations because of the fast-spreading virus. Even if she missed her family, she video-called them with Ethan, laughing and sharing joy with one another.

The moment of tranquility at that time inhabited her memories as more patients filled the ER, the moans and groans of pain settling in the overcrowded room. With a sigh, she got back to work, tending to them who may possibly have COVID.

After placing one patient in the ventilator after she had trouble breathing, the junior resident went to the diagnostics room to take a break. It was depressing to call their families and tell them the heartbreaking words that their loved ones might not make it. And for a bonus point, during the holidays.

And it’s already depressing enough that Ethan hadn’t called her yet. He was supposed to here now; his shift was going to start in 5 minutes. Habitually, he got here early, either to finish paperwork or to start his rounds. The fact that he is not here know made her stomach feel wary.

She jolted at the beeping of her pager, signalling her to the ER room. I wasn’t even gone for five minutes.

Reluctantly, she went back down to the ER. She could see figures not far, and a bloodied man. Automatically, her thoughts went to calling his family about this accident. She hated heeding the cries coming out of their mouths, wishing she could do anything, anything, in her power to to save their loved one. But she prompted herself that she tried her full hardest.

Thrusting those thoughts aside, she rushed down to the patient. Suddenly, a pair of hands ceased her from taking another step forward. Naveen.

“Abby, don’t go down there,” Naveen said, worriedly. Huh?

Abby was confused and impatient. “What are you talking about? I’m a doctor. I can help him!”

Naveen replied in a hushed, soothing kind of tone. “There are other doctors there. They’ll tend to-”

Just then a paramedic came, someone the Chacko doesn’t know. “Patient is Ethan Ramsey, age-”

The world stopped. People annulled their motions. At least, that’s what she concluded. Her pulse, however, grew rapid. Her eyes widened. In horrible fear? In terrible anguish? In emotional pain? She doesn’t even know.

“...Naveen? Please don’t tell me it’s who I think it is.”

“...I’m so sorry, Abigail. His car was hit by a truck and it rolled over a few times. He will be okay, I promise-”

But she’s not so certain. She wanted to slap herself. To cut herself, for ever thinking that. But even she took a look at Ethan. He’s covered in blood. She couldn’t even recognize him.

“No...”

Then, she said it louder.

NO! NO! ETHAN! ETHAAAN! Let me go. LET ME GO! NAVEEN, LET ME GO!!” Abby struggled, trying to release herself from Naveen’s grip. He was maintaining a vice-like grip on her, murmuring soothing words that he will be alright.

But she couldn’t make out anything. The world was spiraling, and so was she.

“...Ethan...”

In one blink she fell onto the floor, her knees making an uncomfortable thud on the white tiles, and her vision went black.

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

December 30th, 2020 (10:06 A.M.)

The first thing she overheard was the beeping of a heart monitor. Next, she saw the IV going through her arm. She found out she was lying on an uncomfortable bed, sunlight streaming through the windows. Finally, she sees the Chief with an anxious face.

“Abigail! Ladoo, are you alright?” Naveen asked, concerned.

Only one word came out of her mouth. A name. “Ethan...”

She placed everything now. The bloodied body of Ethan Ramsey. Her true love. Unconscious. Unaware of any of her calls. She gasped out.

“Ethan! Naveen, where is Ethan? Where-”

Abby couldn’t breathe. She is suffocating. And she wasn’t even wearing one of those damn masks.

“Abby, deep breaths,” Naveen soothingly commanded.

She did as she was advised. Her breathing got normal, but her pulse didn’t.

“Naveen! Where is Ethan? Is he alright? Where-”

“Ladoo. Ethan is in the ICU, currently in a coma. He had a major surgery in his lung and chest. Thankfully, the surgeons stopped the blood loss. He had two broken ribs and a broken arm.”

Abby couldn’t get that first sentence out of her mind. “He’s... in a coma?”

The senior doctor sighed profoundly. “Yes, Abigail. We don’t know when he will wake up.”

We don’t know when he will wake up.

A tear spilled out of her eye, but she forced herself to swab it away. She will not break down. At least not now. Finally, she cared enough to question about herself.

“...What’s wrong with me?”

A sigh pulled out of Naveen’s mouth again. “You fainted after you had heard the news about Ethan. Your blood pressure increased. Fortunately, you’re fine now. I’ve informed Seb and Jazmin about this. They sensed you would be uncomfortable with talking about Ethan now, so they’ve decided to give you some space.”

She was appreciative. For having the best brother and mother. She treasured them. Too much. “I’ll shoot them a quick text message later. For now, I’m going to Ethan’s room. Where is he?”

“Abi-”

“Please. I want to see him.”

With a defeated sigh, Naveen and a nurse aided her onto a plastic wheelchair, much to her annoyance. She could walk fine, she’s not paralyzed or anything.

Abby was wheeled down the familiar hospital hall as nurses and doctors kept sparing pitiful glances. She didn’t need pity. She needed Ethan.

She walked into the room, preparing herself for what she was going to see. She wasn’t prepared at all.

Ethan was wearing a hospital gown and looked exhausted. His eyes were closed and he looked calm. Peaceful. Tranquility.

Some of her friends were already there. Bryce, Sienna, Jackie, Elijah, Rafael. They knew Abby would want to see her love. Some of them whispered comforting words. Others patted her on the shoulder. They all left her, and soon, she was alone with her fiance.

She started. “Hi, Ethan. It’s me, Rookie.”

She looked at the calendar. December 30.

“Two more days till this horrible year is over. Life always throws us curveballs, don’t they?”

Silence.

She sighed. “Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve. Couples are supposed to kiss each other at the stroke of midnight. I need to feel your lips on mine at midnight. Please.”

The tears she tried to hold fell out like a dam breaking. She broke out in sobs.

“Please, Ethan. I... I can’t live without you in this damn world. If you die, I die, Ethan. I die. Please. I wanna feel you lips on mine at midnight. We planned so much for the future. Please. We’re engaged. We’ll be married next year. We’re hoping to build a family. With Jenner, as our third wheel. Please wake up, wake up, wake up. I love you too damn much.”

She whispered the last sentence. She tangled his hand in hers and held them tight. He may be in a coma now, but she’ll sing a song for him now.

The sun comes up It's a new day dawning It's time to sing your song again

She takes a deep breath to keep her voice from cracking. Whatever may pass And whatever lies before me Let me be singing When the evening comes

Bless The Lord, O my soul O my soul Worship his holy name Sing like never before O my soul I'll worship your holy name

She sighed. He didn’t move, but something told her that he will move soon.

“Rest now, my love. I’ll be waiting for that kiss when you wake up.”

He didn’t wake up that day.

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

December 31st, 2020 (11:40 P.M.)

Abby was with him yesterday and planned to stay in his room the whole night, until Naveen discharged her and gently forced her into an on-call room. It’s amusing how he thinks the 22 years old would get any sleep. She wanted to be in Ethan’s comforting arms. Him stroking her musky brunette hair. Her wrapping her narrow arms around his waist. Sleeping under the brilliant moonlight. But now, the coma threatened to take away that lifelong dream.

It was 11:40 P.M. on New Year’s Eve, and Abby was still waiting for that midnight kiss. He promised he would kiss her at 12:00 A.M. He didn’t have any problems in doing that. If so, he would have told Abby. He didn’t have to go into a coma to hamper it. Abby would still love him.

Abby was looking at the wall, staring at it blankly as she clasped his hand and gave it a squeeze, hoping for it to jerk. And minutes later, it did.

The first jerk got her out of her train of thoughts. The second jerk made her look at his bruised face, hopeful for a holiday miracle. The third jerk made him slowly open his eyes, his familiar hand gently stroking her thumb as to figure out who is next to him.

She gently fastened her eyes. Oh no, what if he loses his memory? It was a serious car accident after all. Stop it, Abby, Naveen didn’t mention a head injury. Oh no, what if he was lying? What if he was trying to make me feel better? What-

“Rookie...?” She looked back at her, only to observe Ethan staring intently at her, with a slight glimmer.

“Ethan...” She couldn’t hold back the tears this time.

The ocean eyes lost glimmer and instead widened with evident alarm. “Abby, don’t cry. What happened?”

Abby released a tremulous breath, one that she barely knew she was holding. “A truck hit you car and it flipped a few times. You were in it. You had a major surgery in your lung and chest. The surgeons stopped your blood loss just in time. You have two broken ribs and a broken arm. And you were in a coma.”

If Ethan wasn’t alert before, then he definitely is after hearing her last statement. “I was in a coma? For how long?”

“Just for a day, luckily. It’s New Year’s Eve.”

She looked at her watch.

“... 11:55 P.M.”

Ethan nodded his head slowly, before gently stroking her cheek to wipe away the salty droplets of water. “Rookie, don’t cry. I’m awake now, am I not?”

She broke. Again.

“B-but, I th-thought you wouldn’t m-make it. I thought y-you would never w-wake up. I thought o-our future was de-destroyed. I thought I would ne-never see you bl-blue eyes again. I thought-”

She gave up saying the last sentence and the first sob came out. Ethan’s heart broke piece by piece before shattering.

“Lie down with me.”

She was hesitant. “But w-what if I h-hurt you?”

“You won’t,” Ethan assured. “I want to hold you.”

Slowly, she got up from the uncomfortable plastic chair and gently lied down with him. Her hand came around his waist, mindful of his injuries. Ethan’s hand went to the daily job of stroking her hair down.

“I’m right here. Our dream will never be shattered as long as we have each other’s hearts. Even if I did die-”

“Ethan, stop-”

“No, Abigail, let me say this. Even if I did die, our hearts would be mended together. If you died, I would never love someone else again. You would be mine always, no matter what happens. My heart would belong to you and only you.”

Joyful and comforting tears obscured her vision. “I love you, Ethan.”

“I love you, too, Rookie. To the squares of infinity.”

Just then, they both heard the countdown. 11:59 P.M.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

“Are you ready?” Ethan asked.

Six.

Five.

Abby smiled. “Hell yeah, I am.”

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

And their lips met at the stroke of midnight, fulfilling his promise.

“Happy New Year, Abigail.” The former attending said, a beautiful grin adoring his face.

“Happy New Year, Ethan.” Abby returned with the same grin.

As sleep was overtaking both of them with colorful fireworks decorating the night sky, Abby managed to ponder on one more thought.

Good riddance, 2020.

notes: If you’ve made it this far, thank you!

notes 2: Happy New Year, and good riddance! Let’s all pray for a good year this time. I wrote this fic in one day, and I am pretty impressed of myself. But I thought I would give you one more fic as this year comes to a close. Forgive me if there were any spelling mistakes or grammar errors. Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed! ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ

tags: @missmiimiie @aylamwrites @starrystarrytrouble @udishaman @caseyvalentineramsey @queencarb @choicesstan1 @newcolonies @arcticrivers @angela8756 @takemyopenheart @rookie-ramsey @ohchoices @ohvamsey @ohramsey @natureblooms24 @drariellevalentine @maurine07 @lucy-268 @drakewalkerfantasy @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @gryffindordaughterofathena

@openheartfanfics

@choicesficwriterscreations

#pixelberry choices #choices stories you play #open heart #open heart choices #pixelberry #pixelberry open heart #ethan ramsey #playchoices #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey fanfiction #new year’s fanfiction

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scatter-kinnin-patter · 4 years ago

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YOU WANT MORE COMABUR MEMORIES??? IVE GOT MORE COMABUR MEMS FOR YA!!!

A continuation of this post because I've been digging around and the memories are coming back more and more! Mostly pre-dsmp and S2, S3 is still mostly a blur to me b u t! Under the cut~

So I'll start with some pre-dsmp memories of mine. So as a refresher, my canon had Phil as my dad, Techno as my twin but older by a few minutes, and Tommy as our little brother. I don't remember our mom, though I know we always joked about Philza and the fridge XD I think Tommy was our half-brother, and had a different mom than Tech and I? Still a bit fuzzy on that.

I mentioned how my Tech was a piglin-human hybrid, while I was more "human with very few piglin traits". One thing I remember though was I actually had naturally pink hair that matched Techno's, but I dyed it brown and often wore my beanie to hide when my roots were coming in. I'll explain more why I did this later.

I remember pre-dsmp, I grew up in another smp. SMP's kinda... worked like varying realms one could teleport between? The teleportation was difficult though so there was rarely anyone who'd frequently swap between smps. But I grew up in Earth SMP's Antarctic Empire! Phil raised Techno and I, and later we had Tommy with us too! I remember it was always cold, but in our castle and fortress it was much warmer. Techno, being Techno, was extremely skilled in combat and strategy and Phil took him under his wing(hah!) as the technical heir to the throne and taught him everything he'd need to know about conquest. Me, I preferred teaching myself diplomacy, fighting wars with words rather than with blood. For a time this worked actually, Techno and I really balancing each other out, but soon things got... Eh.

Tommy brought it up to me first, I think he trusted me to open up to more than the others(sorry Tech and Phil but I'm the favorite xoxo /J) and basically opened up about how unhappy he was there. He wanted to explore the world, not be holed up in some frozen corner of the planet going and conquering a bunch of strangers just so we could follow Phil's and Tech's legacy. He felt suffocated in their shadows and... tbh I felt somewhat similar. So we made a plan, and one night we ran away without saying a word... Well, I left Techno a letter, but.

We ran to the portal, and somehow convinced Dream to give us access to the dsmp. I think he agreed because he knew that would knock Techno down a peg(my Dream and Tech were rivals for p obvious reasons). And we started over there. I dyed my hair, we got ourselves a new wardrobe, and we thought starting over in a small place without many people would be good! We lied about our past, though. We didn't want to be connected to the Antarctic Empire... both because we were trying to leave that part of us behind but also so no one would tell Tech and Phil where we were. This was our new start!

AND WHAT DOES TOMMY DO. START A FUCKING WAR WITH DREAM HIMSELF.

Tommy. Ily. But you're so stupid. /lh

So I've talked about how my mems from S1 and half of S2- up to Techno's execution- went, but I've remembered a bit more!

After Techno brought me back to his cabin, we talked for a long time about what happened. I told him I didn't remember anything leading up to my "death", and Techno filled in the gaps for me. I also didn't realize Phil was in the server because... Well I don't remember my confrontation with him. I also didn't remember my hypnosis, and since Dream is the only other one who knew, Tech didn't know and didn't relay that to me.

We agreed that for now, it'd be best if I stayed with him instead of back in L'manburg. And for a while I did!

One day though, Techno finds Tommy. ... Specifically the Tommy that was living under his house like a raccoon. Techno was furious and started chasing Tommy around, who was still hoaring his Gapples and whatnot, and when I finally walked outside to see what the hell was going on, I locked eyes with Tommy, and we both stopped.

He was white as a sheet, and looked about to cry, and luckily Techno stopped chasing him after seeing this. Again, Tubbo Quackity and Ranboo never told Tommy about me, he thought I was dead. I spoke up first with a "Tommy?" And he goes "Wil... You're alive?" To which I started tearing up- "Yeah... Yeah, I'm alive!" And we both just- broke at that, we ran to each other, I nearly crushed him in a hug and we were just sobbing. He thought I was gone, and I had gone so long without seeing my favorite lil bro that just... Aaaaaaa

After that Tommy explained his exile to Techno and I, and why he ran away and lived under Techno's house. I think Techno was softened up by seeing how happy Tommy and I were to be reunited, but also Tommy's his brother too, so he agreed to let Tommy stay too.

Now, Tommy was salty at L'manburg for exiling him, and Techno is anti-government. But- I think Techno was even more against L'manburg because of how hurt Tommy and I came out of it. So Techno and Tommy swore vengeance and decided to start doing crimes against L'manburg. I stayed out of it though- I was in good enough shape to take care of myself by this point, but I still way too injured to be in any sort of fighting shape.

And then one day... Techno came home without Tommy. Turns out Tommy sided with Tubbo in the end... and Techno was still determined to destroy L'manburg. Eventually they broke Philza out and- hoooooo that was an awkward reunion. Dream also came over from time to time to plan for their attack. I was. V uncomfortable around my Dream for reasons I couldn't explain(spoilers: it's the hypnotism that I forgot happened). I wanted nothing to do with their plan. I didn't want Tommy hurt, and I wasn't going to help them hurt him. I should've done more to stop them, but... Can't change the past.

After making a crater where L'manburg was, I confronted Phil. I called him out on doing something so awful... And he called me out for doing the same. He said to me, "Power corrupts, Wil. I've seen it with Schlatt, I've seen it with Tubbo, and most importantly I've seen it with you!" To which I retort, "You see it in everyone but yourself, Phil!" Because... ANTARCTIC EMPIRE ANYONE??? Turns out the Empire disbanded shortly before Tech and Phil came to the server, I don't remember how exactly that falling out occurred, but there was a reason why Tech and Phil were so strongly against any governments at this point.

After our fight, I left Tech and Phil. Tommy needed me. I built my own place not far from the crater, and frequently visited Tommy, Tubbo, and the others. Not Ranboo though, since Ranboo stayed with Phil and Techno. And Niki kinda wouldn't talk to me because she was... def also upset at thinking I was dead.

I was with everyone who confronted Dream when he had his finale with Tubbo and Tommy. He was NOT going to hurt my boys fuck no. Tommy took 2 of Dream's lives and you BET YOUR ASS I WAS CHEERING HIM ON(sorry Dream kinnies ily)

And then. Oh boy. Before Tommy could go for a third... Dream turned to me, and said something- I forget what, maybe it wasn't English, but it snapped something in me. I may have forgotten being hypnotized, but the effects were still there. Something came over me and I everything in my system was screaming at me to attack Tommy... so I did. I screamed, and lunged at him, but I was only able to tackle him and couldn't even get a hit in before Quackity and a few others were able to grab me and pull me off of him. I was thrashing to get free, but thank fuck they held me down.(Big Q ilysm /platonic)

It was then Dream revealed what he did to me way back in Pogtopia. He spoke something again, and I just felt that urge in me drop like a rock through my body, and I fainted then and there. When I came to, Big Q filled me in on what happened. Dream said he was the only one who knew how to undo what was done to me, and if he was killed, they'd run the risk of me doing that again. So they put Dream in the prison.

Now most of S3 is still blurry to me, but I remember breaking into the prison with Tommy. And that confrontation(which would've been Ghostbur if I was canon compliant but nope my canon is OFF THE RAILS). Tommy was with Sam, and I was stuck on the other side with Dream. Dream threatened that if he wasn't let go, he would "reset" me, whatever that meant. There was a lot of arguing and tbh I was terrified, but I knew I couldn't let Dream go. So I looked at Tommy and I told him "It's gonna be okay, Tommy."

And then everything went black. My memories after this are VERY blurry but- I think Dream somehow reverted my mind back to how it was during my Pogtopia corruption arc. And I had that itch in the back of my mind again. I'm the villain. Time to act like one.

... HECK THIS POST GOT REALLY LONG HUH... UHHHH ANYWAYS HOPE YOU LIKED IT IF YOU GOT THIS FAR IM JUST A V CANON DIVERGENT COMABUR >>

#💙wil💙#dream smp kin #dsmp kin #wilbur kin #alivebur kin #vilbur kin #I count as a Vilbur right?#anyways I love how this post became a Tommy Appreciation Post #long post #~memories~#wilbur soot kin

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barnesandrogersfanfics · 5 years ago

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Saving Grace - Part 10

Summary: Steve leaves you and your son to go back to Peggy unaware your pregnant.

Your heartbroken and struggling without Steve until Bucky Barnes steps up to help you out. With you and Bucky growing closer everyday will he be your saving Grace?

A/N- This was meant to be more of a filler part but then ended up at 2000+ words! 😂😂 im not even sure how i feel about this part but here we go! Enjoy 💕

The Wednesday before Bucky and I were planning to head to the cabin, he was called in for a mission that required the whole team so it must have been pretty bad. He promised he would do his best to get back in time so we could still go up there, but i knew we'd just have to let things play out and see what happened.

It was now Friday evening and he still wasn't home, i hadn't heard from him since the Wednesday evening and i just wanted to know he was okay.

At around 10pm i decided to head to bed to try and get some sleep, at least then i wouldn't be constantly worrying about Bucky and the team. Grace was fast asleep in her bassinet beside the bed and Harrison was star-fished on Bucky's side of the bed snoring slightly....I couldn't help but smile at the sight. When I heard a noise from downstairs I shot up in the bed suddenly alert.

"Buck?" I called out quietly so i didnt wake the kids, i knew he'd still hear me even with how quiet i was. When i got no response i made my way out to the hallway looking down over the staircase railing. My heart started racing when i saw two dark figures moving around down there. I turned and silently rushed back to the bedroom locking the door behind me. I grabbed my cell phone from the bedside cabinet and called 911 as i rushed to my wardrobe to pull out the lockbox that held our guns.

"911 whats your emergency?" A woman answered my call, i quietly told her what was happening and gave her the address. She advised she would get someone over ASAP. I hung up and dialled the compounds private number hoping someone would answer, maybe they could get here quicker!

"Hello?" A man answered on the third ring, i didn't recognise who it was.

"Hi, this is Y/N Y/L/N...."

"Oh hi Y/N its Roy, the night guard"

"Shit.... Roy is their anyone there you can send to my house now!?? there's men breaking in.... are any of the team or any SHIELD agents around?"

"Oh.... erm I'm not sure. Stay on the line and i will check real quick".

It felt like he was gone forever when it was only a few seconds.

"Y/N???!"

"Steve??! Oh thank god! There's men breaking in!!"

"What?!!"

"Two of them that i saw. Ive locked myself in the bedroom with the kids"

"Im on my way sweetheart just stay where you are. You have your gun?"

"Yeah, please hurry!" I said hanging up.

I carried Grace's bassinet into the ensuite bathroom and then went and got Harrison and took him in there too.

"Mama what you doing?" He asked sleepily rubbing at his eyes.

"Shhhh baby, i need you to stay in here with Grace and be very quiet okay?"

"Okay" he nodded and sat on the floor beside Grace's bassinet.

"Remember to stay very quiet, and dont come out until i say so" i closed the door and took the time to check my gun over. Oh god, what i would give to have Bucky home right now, he would have taken them out already without breaking a sweat! It had been years since i had retired from the Avenging life, the day i found out i was pregnant with Harrison was my last day on the job. All i was worried about was my kids getting hurt, what if i was too out of practise to defend myself against these intruders..... my internal panic was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. I heard one of the doors open, the guest bedroom probably as that was closest to the stairs..... then the bathroom, Harrison's bedroom and then they stopped outside my room. The door handle jiggled as they tried to open it "over here!" I heard a man say before a loud thump on the door where he was obviously trying to bust the door open.

I stood to the side of the door gun aimed ready to fire when they made it through, because lets face it they would get through eventually!! I clicked off the safety and took some deep breaths trying to calm myself down. Suddenly the door gave way and the first figure stumbled into the dark room looking around, i aimed my gun at his leg and fired.... he yelled and fell to the floor as the bullet hit him in the thigh. The second figure dived at me pushing my arms up so my shot missed him. He knocked the gun from my hands and punched me hard in the face sending me to the floor.

"You okay?" He asked turning to his friend who was laying on the floor holding his leg.

"No!"

While he was distracted i turned to try and crawl to the where my gun had landed only for him to grab my ankle and pull me away. He reached down trying to grab me by the hair but i twisted round and kicked him away. He stumbled back crashing into the dresser looking surprised that i was fighting back. I rolled to my feet again as he tried to rush me, i dodged him easily suddenly remembering my days training with Nat and Steve. I got a few good hits in before he got a hold of me and threw me into my vanity table where i crashed into the mirror landing in the broken shards of the mirror. The man walked over looking proud of himself and he looked down at me.

"You put up a good fight i give you that" he laughed wiping blood from his split lip "I'm gonna enjoy this"

"Please stop..... why are you doing this?" I asked, Grace started crying in the bathroom and i could hear Harrison shh'n her.

"Well well well, what do we have here huh?" He grinned and started to walk towards the bathroom.

"No!!!!" I screamed and launched myself off the floor diving onto the man "you leave them alone!!" i tried to fight but i could feel the shards of broken mirror digging in various parts of my body. He tossed me aside again giving me a hard punch to the gut winding me and sending me to my knees.

"Get away from them!!" i yelled as he carried on towards the bathroom.

Another figure suddenly charged into the room crashing into the man and sending him flying into the wall so hard he was out cold on impact! I breathed a sigh of relief realising Steve had arrived.

"Y/N!" He fell to his knee's beside me "are you okay?"

"There's another guy, i shot him in the leg...."

"Looks like he bled out sweetheart"

"Check on the kids" i said pointing at the bathroom hearing Grace screaming "i dont want Harrison seeing me like this...."

"Okay" he nodded and walked over to the bathroom opening the door.

"Hey pal" i heard Steve say to Harrison "you doing okay in here?"

"Where's mama...."

"Im okay baby, just stay in there with your dad for me for a minute okay?"

"Hi sweet girl, your okay.... sshhh" i could hear Steve as he cradled Grace.

"Police department!" I suddenly heard someone yell from downstairs......great timing!!

"I still think you should have gone to the hospital Y/N or at least to the compound. See Dr Cho" Steve said as he pulled another piece of broken mirror from my back. The police had taken the body of the man i shot and arrested the surviving intruder, i had refused to go to the hospital though.... id had worse than this before.

"Im okay, its not serious. Looks worse than it is" i said holding a towel full of ice to my face.

"Some of these are pretty deep, their gonna need stitches...."

"Then stitch them up!" I snapped at him "god Steve, its not like it would be the first time!"

"Your right it wouldn't, but we were in the field with no option but for me to stitch you up! Now we can get you proper medical care!"

I dropped my face into my hands as i began to cry, i couldn't hold it in any more. The adrenaline was wearing off and now the shock was setting in.

"I just want Bucky" i sobbed, i felt Steve tense up at the mention of Bucky's name before he carefully wrapped his arms around me.

"I know sweetheart, i've tried calling him and the rest of the team. I left a message"

"Where are the kids?"

"In Harrisons room, Grace is sleeping and Harrison was watching cartoons"

"I dont know what i would have done if they had been hurt!.... if you hadnt of showed up when you did Steve...."

"Dont think about that, i did show up and they are fine!" He said with a smile wiping my tears away with his thumbs.

"Thank you Steve, i mean it"

"You dont need to thank me sweetheart"

"Y/N!!!" I heard Bucky's frantic voice yell before his thundering footsteps on the stairs.

"Bucky" i sighed in relief. Within seconds he was in the room and pulling me into his arms, Wanda and Sam appearing seconds behind him.

"Ow Buck careful" i said wincing as his arm pressed into one of the shards still in my back.

"Doll why aren't you at the hospital!?"

"She refused to let me take her, you know how stubborn she can be" Steve rolled his eyes.

"Id be fine if you'd stop bitching and just stitch me up!"

"Okay come on, let me take a look. Wanda, can you check on the kids please?"

"Their fine Buck i made sure...." Steve started to say but she turned and went anyway.

"You wanna fill me in on what happened here?" Sam said to Steve looking pissed.

"Sure".

Once in the bathroom Bucky carefully removed my tank top to get a better look at my wounds.

"Baby some of these are really bad...."

Bucky said as his fingers gently traced over my back.

"Just do it Buck, I'm not going to the hospital! I can take it"

"Okay" he sighed pressing a kiss to my bare shoulder. Bucky spent the next 15 minutes or so pulling shards of mirror from my back and some in my left arm. He stitched one pretty deep wound, the rest he just cleaned and covered with bandages. Once he was done he wrapped me in his arms holding me close.

"I was so scared Buck" i mumbled against his chest "i just wanted you. I knew if you were here we'd be fine"

"I know doll, me too. When i got that message from Steve...." he shook his head "i could have lost you today, you and the kids.... i could have lost my family"

"You didn't though, we're fine"

"Your not fine! look at what that son of a bitch did to you!"

"It could have been a lot worse, i got lucky. I never thought id be so happy to see Steve again..... the guy was going for the kids Bucky and i couldn't stop him.....Steve just came out of nowhere"

"Im sure you did everything you could baby"

"I tried, but the truth is I'm out of practice. I haven't been in a fight or even picked up a gun since i found out i was pregnant with Harrison"

"You did good!" Bucky smiled leaning down and gently kissing me, i hissed slightly feeling the sting of the split lip from the punch id received and he quickly apologised.

"Guess this puts a stop to our weekend at the cabin huh? I cant even kiss you!" I moaned.

"We'll go as soon as you feel better i promise, we've waited this long right?"

"I guess so, i was just really looking forward to it"

"Oh me too! But i can wait".

Saving Grace tags: @jennmurawski13 @kenzieam

@captainchrisstan @s-t-r-i-k-e-us @lets--be-honest

@ms-betsy-fangirl @damnaged-princess

@farfromtommy @disneylovingal @lbuck121

@billweasleey @rynabarnesrogers

@heathens-takeitsl0w @lacontroller1991

@supervengerslock @barnesandrogersworld

@mariswritingforfun @perpetually-tuned-out

@thummbelina @marvelousstyles @broco8

@ineffableg-irl @ilovesupersoldiers

@writeroutoftime

#bucky x reader #steve x reader #sebastian stan #chris evans #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #winter soldier #captain america #reader insert #saving grace

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milkywaydrabbles · 5 years ago

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Together we will Live Forever

So this is my first commissioned piece, and the first thing I’m posting on my new Tumblr! I’m hoping to get a lot of prompts and drabble requests along the days but I’ll start with this!!! Hope everyone enjoys!

“Here… here! They’re over here!”

Sounds muffled, dust flew in their lungs, making it harder to breathe. Their eyes were glossed over, red and puffy. They can hardly remember why they’d been crying. It felt like years since they last saw sunlight, those damn ugly fluorescent lights burning their retinas day in and day out.

In reality, it’s only been about six months since the kidnapping. Though, they could be wrong with the time. They never left the basement. They never saw the sun. But hearing someone else’s — anyone else’s — voice that wasn’t part of the League of Villains was a miracle on its own. But this voice kept getting closer, and sounded more and more desperate with each call. Then multiple voices came.

They opened their eyes a bit wider, blinking away the burning sensation that they felt with the strain. Then they saw the faces of the voices.

There were heroes here .

After so long, after continuous torment and torture and sleepless nights there were finally heroes . They could have sobbed then, if their throat weren’t so raw from the strain. Physically exhausted, they didn’t even move, just prayed that the heroes would pick them up and take them away from all of this.

“Hey, stay with me honey—we’re gonna get you out of here okay?” They heard a female voice speak out. Sounded slightly familiar, Midnight, they thought. Didn’t matter right now. She reached out to touch them, noticing the immediate reaction was to flinch away and shield themselves with their lacerated arms. The female hero gasped, looking at the dirtied and infected lesions on the skin.

“Oh my god,” she gasped again, mostly to herself, before turning around and yelling out again. “ We need a medic! ”

They didn’t remember much after that moment, just more seemingly encouraging words amongst the chaos happening around the two of them. Then they nodded. There was a question there somewhere but they didn’t remember what it was. Maybe it was just habitual, with all the times the villains would ask them if they would be good and heal them .

Then it was black.

The next time they woke was a week later, hooked up to some IV drips in their arms and a breathing tube strung down their nose. Panic rose quickly, knowing the feeling of needles in their veins to keep them barely alive all too well. Bile rose with it, biting back the stomach acid that was boiling up their throat was difficult. The only thing that brought them slightly down from the extreme anxiety attack that was seconds away were the bandages that practically held their arms together. That was barely enough to keep them grounded to reality.

The league would never take the time to make sure the arms were covered . Ever anxious and ever suspicious, their guard was held high.

Then a man spoke in the room.

“You’re awake.” A very obvious observation, but necessary to bring the attention to him. Seemed as if he were there for the entire spectacle. He would have stepped in, if he saw their panic get worse than it was. But this situation was very delicate, he knew this. Six months filled with trauma and pain was enough to send a civilian into a frenzy immediately. Slightly surprised they were able to stop yourself before screaming into the void, he questioned them. “Are you okay?”

No, no no no nononono —

“Yes… I’m—”

Hurting, and scared, and always in pain. Not trusting of you, but it hurts so much. Please, please stop the pain please make it go away please help me please please pleasepleaseplease —

“—fine.”

That was a lie. They knew it as well as he did. But he wouldn’t comment on it. Whatever made them feel most comfortable. The man gave them a minute to recollect their thoughts, and calm themselves as best they could before continuing.

“My name is Aizawa Shouta, hero name Eraserhead. You were rescued a few days ago from the League of Villains.” He paused for a moment, seemingly uncomfortable at the thought. “You are currently in the Musutafu general hospital. Do you… have any recollection of your last six months?”

So it was half a year. They sat there for a moment, reliving every memory their brain brought up. They remembered everything, down to the gut retching stench in the foul basement they were placed in. The details would haunt them. Their face dulled, eyes losing focus. They were being pulled into a pit of darkness as the memories came back. He saw that.

Their face twisted into one of pain, feeling the lacerations on their arms throb with the memory. How they were forced to use their quirk, even though it wasn’t nearly strong enough to do what they needed to be done due to malnutrition and lack of sleep. How, day in and day out, there were different thugs brought to them with all kinds of wounds—from some fresh blood still sticking to their flesh, to others who had clearly waited much too long to get it looked at and now had pus mixing with whatever bodily fluid dried and crusted over.

They remember how, no matter how many times they yelled and screamed and sobbed, no one came. How their arms at one point felt like they would rip right off, and how they had to switch from injuring their own arms to their legs just to save themselves from mutilating their limbs to the point of amputation.

They remembered the mocking tones of all the villains that would come through, and how they would leave them alone only because they were so disgusted with the pools of blood and bits of flesh that were tearing off no one even wanted to be touched.

They remembered how those were their favorite days, no matter how much it hurt .

“Hey, hey, come back..” His voice was soft, soothing almost. The man— Aizawa — brought their attention back to reality.

“I...remember most of it. I don’t remember getting there...” Their voice cracked before continuing. “But I remember being there.” Being used, over and over and over —

His phone rang, breaking their daze again. They flinched away from the sound, he noticed, and turned away to answer. The call was short, with a few grunts of affirmation from the hero and a sigh. He turned back once the call was over. “With your permission, we would like to keep you with some heroes during your healing and interview process. To understand why the League needed you specifically. Do I have your consent?”

They nodded, a bit shaken.

He, on the other hand, shook his head. “I need verbal confirmation. Do I have your consent to keep you on campus of UA high with professional heroes for however much time is needed for your healing and interviewing process?” He asked again, this time with more detail. Aizawa needed them to understand fully what was at stake.

“Yes… Yes, I consent.” They paused for a moment, question dancing on their tongue. “Will you be...one of the heroes there?” They weren’t sure why they asked. They didn’t particularly care, as long as they stopped feeling so scared all the time. This was a goddamn nightmare .

“Yes, I will be with you most of the time.”

The thought made their stomach settle.

Days passed in the hospital, heroes came in and out—most of them already knowing who they were. Seemed they would all be interacting with them on campus. Some were more personable than others. Midnight and Present Mic—they learned around the third visit their names were Kayama Nemuri and Yamada Hizashi—were very chatty. Always trying to make conversation with them.

Even though it was rare they replied, rare they would even pay attention. The thought was nice enough for them though, even if they didn’t have it in them to interact. Other heroes like Snipe and Ectoplasm came to introduce themselves, but never stayed long. The air was thick with tension—and they didn’t know how to handle someone with heavy trauma. Usually the professionals didn’t have to stick around to see the aftermath of what happened to the victims who survived whatever they needed saving from.

It was finally time to leave, and although they were relieved to be away from the hospital bed, they were scared to go into the unknown. Then Aizawa came through the door, helping settle any of the fears that came into their mind. This made them feel off — they had no connection to this hero. There wasn’t a reason in the world to trust him any more than the other pros that had walked into their room.

But they never felt as safe with anyone else than with Eraserhead.

“There’s a car in the front of the building, a dormitory has been set up for you personally. Are you ready?”

They stuttered for a moment, grasping onto their arms that have finally begun to heal. Then, with a quick and less than audible yes they stood in front of the open door. And paused.

It was hard to step through, fear coursing through their veins. Two weeks in a safer environment than what they had had for six months was difficult to leave. Aizawa waited, more patient than they could ever ask for. Then he stepped through first, keeping the door open for them.

“It’s safe, I promise.” They’ve heard so many promises it’s hard to tell if this one will be kept.

They took a step through anyway, breath held in their lungs as they stepped under the door frame and into the hero’s personal space. The world was too big, too unknown, there were too many people walking around, too many faces they didn’t know , too many memories coming back —

They felt a hand lightly on their shoulder. Instantly, their arms flew in front of their face in a feeble attempt to shield away from the world and the man’s touch. No words came out of their mouth, just small whimpers and attempts of saying ‘ stop!’ , and so he did. He gave them time, standing off to the side away from their safe haven. He waited for the shaking to stop.

“I’m sorry, for touching you..” He apologized, and sounded sincere. They’ve heard sorry so much, usually followed with a cackle and absolutely no remorse that they almost felt bad for pushing him away.

“It’s...I’m—” There were no words that could possibly tell Aizawa how miserable they felt all the time and they wished they could use their healing quirk on their mental health to fix it and make this better . Letting out a frustrated sigh and tugging at the roots of their hair, they shook their head.

“I’ll follow you.”

He nodded, and walked through the corridors slow enough for them to remain as close or as far as they wished without getting lost. They stayed closer to him than he thought they would.

The car ride was quiet, no words exchanged except a ‘ thank you ’ for the car door being held open, followed by a quick ‘you’re welcome ’. They fiddled with the bandages, trying to unravel a piece and look at the flesh underneath.

“You should leave those on. From experience, looking at what’s underneath isn’t always comforting.”

They paused, and took a quick glance at the man next to them. He hadn’t moved, and still looked forward in the car. They sighed, but ultimately listened. The rest of the ride they kept still.

“This will be your new, temporary home. My room is right across from yours. If you need anything, you can ask.”

They nodded in thanks, not letting their lungs grab in their much needed air until they heard the door click behind them. The shock of the last six months hit them all at once, their mental walls crumbling down—along with their legs. They were left at the edge of the room, drained of all energy they had been using even for the short amount of time they had to be a human. Their arms still stung, months of abuse piled on top of each other without reprieve or proper healing, but that was in the back of their mind as they laid on the floor arms wrapped tight around themselves. They didn’t even have the proper energy to cry—not really . Broken sobs and airy wheezes were all that were heard in the room.

What they didn’t know is that the Erasure hero was still in ear shot, the weeping penetrating his thoughts as we walked into his own dormitory.

The next morning they woke still on the floor, limbs tucked tightly against each other. It was terribly uncomfortable stretching out, muscles sore from the way they slept on the ground. Their head was pounding, heart racing—they’d forgotten where they were.

The panic slowly dissipated when they took another look around the room: It was far too clean, and organized to be the basement of the league.

That’s right, UA dorms.... They sighed, slowly standing on wobbling legs to freshen up for the day. At least this was more of a studio apartment rather than a dormitory, with its own bathroom and kitchen.

By the time they were done with the as-scalding-as-they-could-manage shower, they changed into whatever generic clothing was given to them for the time being and really looked at their arms for the first time in weeks. Most of the wounds were scabbed over, healing hopefully properly. Some of them, the more infected of the bunch, looked like they still had pus oozing from some of the sides. Mostly clear liquid, so it seemed like the infection was slowly going away. They would have to get it checked out again soon...

A knock at the door startled them enough to gasp, eyeing the frame wearily. Then a voice rang out.

“It’s Aizawa.”

Their heart rate picked up, albeit for no apparent reason , and went to open the door after removing its many locking mechanisms. Seemed UA knew to take as many precautions as possible, and for that they were grateful. Their eyes locked onto the hero’s, and he looked almost as horrible as they did.

Bloodshot eyes, bags underneath telling a story that would have screamed ‘he’s been awake for days’ if they could recite words. They hadn’t noticed what rough shape the pro was in yesterday. They felt almost.. guilty, for being so focused on themselves.

Aizawa stayed at the door unmoving until he was invited in. Even with them moving off to the side, as an unspoken invitation, he stayed still.

“...You can come in.” Even those words sounded so forced.

He slowly walked in, bringing a bag and a to-go cup into their view. “I brought you a few things for breakfast, wasn’t sure if you had eaten today or..” Or at all within the last few months is how he wanted to end it. The unsaid question was louder than the words he murmured. “If you allow us, we’ll be having a recuperating session with Recovery Girl, that doubles as an interview. I’ll be walking with you to the session.”

It always astounded them how good with his words he was. If he ever became a villain it’d be very easy to manipulate people with how he chooses his sentences so carefully...

Stop it!

People were trying to help them, and here they were thinking the worst. The frustration must have shown on their face since he spoke again.

“We can reschedule this for another time.”

“ No — ” too forceful, they winced. They tried again, quieter. “... no. It’s okay. I’m... not too hungry.” Somewhat a lie. They were too scared to eat in fear it meant they’d be taken advantage of again, like every other time they needed their energy.

In any case, Aizawa held out a plain wrapped bun with a bottle of water. “At least have this, you look like you’re going to collapse.”

They sighed before agreeing.

The meeting overall was painless, mostly. Recovery Girl introduced herself with her government name, Chiyo Shuuzenji, before invading their personal space. That took time getting used to. They flinched for each smooch that came their way for most of the session. Then, after most of the wounds were noticeably better, not healed , the questions came.

“Now, my dear, what is your quirk exactly? The more detail the better.”

They swallowed the first few times they tried to open their mouth, silently thanking Aizawa for giving them that bottled water earlier. After a few more attempts at speaking, they got some words out.

“It’s… a healing quirk. I can… I can heal virtually any physical injury. I can get to internal bleeding also. I don’t have to imagine it, I don’t have to touch the specific area… as long as I touch that person, and I just think to myself heal — whatever they have that’s physical, I can make it go away.”

They paused for a moment. They hated being reminded of this part.

“But I… I get hurt. I get these cuts on me. I can, um, imagine where I want the cuts. So they can be anywhere on my body. I try to, um, keep them in the same area to… to uh… make it easier for me.”

To make it easier to disinfect one giant spot on their body than a lot of little spots.

“The bigger the damage I’m healing, the bigger the cuts get. And these last few months...” They didn’t want to continue.

Without them noticing, their body was going into a state of shock to be able to actually speak about what has happened the last few months. Even just speaking about their own quirk was triggering their body into panic. They began to shake, just a little, and they brushed it off as being cold. They knew better, but hoped that if they continued to talk themselves down from the attack they could just get over it.

The questions continued.

“When you were with the League of Villains, how often did they make you heal them?”

It was getting harder and harder to speak, shallow breaths were picking up. They pressed on, regardless.

“It was, u-um, almost every day. They kept coming—kept bringing in random people to heal. They pushed me, they kept-kept trying to get me to do more.” Tears were pooling in the corners of their eyes, they tried to blink the salty reaction away. It didn’t work.

“Then… then they—the Nomu—they were… I was—it couldn’t get better and I kept trying, and, and—”

The shaking became violent, and they pressed the heels of their palms into their eye sockets, rubbing viciously—almost as if they were trying to get the thought to go away

“Come on, you can do it — keep trying, ” the white haired one bit out. He was the leader, they learned at some point. They kept trying to heal the monster in front of them. It was missing half an arm and a full eye.

It’s been days of nonstop healing on their behalf. No food, barely any water, their energy levels were dangerously low.

“I-I can’t, it won’t — I can’t!” They cried out, hands shaking clutched onto the mass of arm that was dripping blood. The harder they tried, the deeper the lesions continued to become on their arms. They were almost like claw marks now, dark blood oozing over their own arms. It was hard to tell the difference between their blood and the beast’s.

They were healing — something . But it wasn’t enough to actually heal whatever was in front of them.

“This is useless,” one with black hair and damaged flesh spoke now. “Just have them heal everyone else before they pass out again.”

They wanted to cry, they didn’t want to heal anymore.

The white haired brat spoke one last time, “Fucking useless,” and left the scene. Leaving you to heal everyone else with the marred man watching over you.

They heard their name being spoken, almost yelled, in a frantic voice.

“—stay with us, come back to us! ” The masculine voice tried to reach them, and they gasped out trying to get air back into their lungs.

“I’m, I’m sc—I’m scared! ”

The strangled words sounded so pained , Aizawa didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t touch them, couldn’t make this any worse. He just wanted them better . He could only imagine the damage they’ve been dealing with mentally.

He spoke their name again, this time quieter—almost trying to convince himself it would be okay.

“Hey, hey, I’m right here—it’s safe here, with me, look at me—” He couldn’t even finish the sentence before they flung themselves into his grasp. It was the closest thing to them that would make them feel smaller. Aizawa was taken back by their immediate touch. Last time he attempted to do this they pushed him away. Perhaps this trigger was worse than the first, something they needed grounding for.

The hero wrapped his arms around them, feeling them grasp at the fabric of his clothing as they sobbed into his chest.

All he could do to console them was continue to whisper that it was safe there, that he was there for them , and he would protect them. Eraserhead himself wasn’t entirely sure how many of those were truths, but right now he had to believe it most for their sake.

It took a little under a half hour to finally calm them, back to having a pounding head and racing heart just like this morning.

The session ended after that.

Days turned into weeks at the school, and the “interviews” were more delicate. Aizawa was there for each one, and after a handful more with Recovery Girl making sure their wounds were only scars now, he conducted them alone. The hero always made sure they were comfortable, only asking more questions when he felt they could handle it. And when he noticed the shaking, he would either take a break or stop altogether.

That was in the beginning of their one-on-one sessions.

After two months there for the interviewing process, Aizawa turned into Shouta, taking breaks turned into reassuring hand holds, and stopping turned into much needed time in his arms. They still very much cried, a lot of the memories were more overwhelming than they initially thought.

But Aizawa— Shouta — was there. Shouta was always there. And if they couldn’t do a session that night, not mentally prepared for what was to come—he’d always be understanding. He’d never get frustrated, never push for them to speak.

They wanted to trust him so badly, with all their heart. They hoped one day, they’d be free of their mental prison.

The fourth month they were there they began speaking more freely. This time, it was over breakfast. It was a Saturday—Shouta had the day off from teaching. He had cooked for the two of them that morning.

“They burned me, once.”

He almost dropped his utensil on the ground, startled by the sudden admittance.

They pressed on, “They asked, if I… if I could heal myself. I don’t know why. But I said no , and it’s true. I can’t. It would be a vicious cycle of healing and hurting if I could. But um… the one with the white hair?”

“Shigaraki,” Shouta reminded.

They nodded in understanding. “Shigaraki, he didn’t believe me. He got the other one with the blue fire—” Dabi “—to burn me.” They paused for a moment, lifting their shirt just high enough on their side so he could see the blotchy skin that never fully recovered.

He could only imagine what it looked like when they first received it.

“When they realized I wasn’t lying, they… called in one of their paid off doctors.” The pain wasn’t any better , but they kept that information to themselves.

Shouta stayed silent for a moment, not knowing how to react. “Thank you for trusting me with this information,” was all he said before returning to their peaceful breakfast.

That night, after his patrol, Eraserhead couldn’t sleep. He was getting too close to them, he knew. It’s been nonstop attachment on both ends for four months. He understood they needed someone to help them through this counseling, and he was the best for the job at this point.

But he was attached. He could no longer tell the difference between talking them down from a panic attack because they needed it or because he couldn’t breathe seeing them in pain like that. It was selfish on his part, he knew that. He also knew that eventually, they would leave the dorms, go back to their home, and try to assimilate back to their own norm in society. There was a very big possibility that he would never see them again.

The thought made him sick to his stomach.

Four months of banter, four months of whispered stories and shared secrets. Four months of gentle, fleeting touches. Four months of building a trust that he would never break, not in his life.

Being the professional hero he is, he even thought about making up some sort of excuse as to why he wouldn’t be able to do this with them anymore. Something along the lines of, “The more people they have to interact with, the easier it’ll be for them to go back to the world.” It sounded nice, in theory—on paper.

But would he really be able to do it? Would he really be able to break apart that bond that they had built up so well together?

Not in his life.

Not that they’d ever allow it. They still had attacks, and night terrors they spoke to Shouta exclusively about. If he ever dumped them on someone else their whole being would be crushed. They would find him and scream at him at least once—and shut down completely. It would be a soul-crushing reminder that the world is a cruel and evil place, and that no one cares about each other—not really .

For their own sake, they would not, could not , let Shouta go.

Eraserhead thought about how he’d be able to disconnect personal from work, when he heard a thud coming from across the hall.

And then another.

And then another .

His hero instincts kicked in harder than ever before and ran into the hallway with his heart in his throat. He yelled out for them, banging on the door with each call. He heard sobbing, and warned them that he was going inside the room. He wasn’t entirely sure any of his words were getting to them.

The lock was broken with a kick to the door, and the sight in front of him was enough to make him cry. Their body was hunched over on the ground, head banging against the floor. Their tears were visibly hitting the floor, and the most gut wrenching of it all was and they seemed to still be asleep through this whole nightmare.

Shouta moved to their side on the floor, doing his best to lift their head in his hands and rub the tears away with his thumbs. He continued to call their name, giving them a little shake every now and again trying to wake them as gently as he could. When their eyes opened they were strained, vision blurred. He needed to ground them, still in a haze.

“Hey, I’m here—can you say my name? Tell me who I am, please .”

Their breathing was heavy still, eyes trying to focus on the body in front of them.

“Sh-Shouta,” they hiccuped, grasping at whatever article of clothing they could find. They calmed quickly after that, falling asleep, in his arms.

I’m a fool , he thought, for thinking I’d ever be able to leave them.

The next week or so, Shouta had been dancing around a question that’s been on his mind. It was ridiculous, completely illogical, but after the last night terror he had witnessed it seemed like the best course of action. Normally they weren’t very perceptive of things happening around them when the hero was around, they felt safe enough to not have to pay attention. But today...

“Shouta, are you okay?” Their voice was as soft as ever, almost fearful he was going to tell them that this was enough and that they needed to move on with someone else for protection.

He nodded, biting the bullet and spilling the question—well, statement really.

“Live with me?”

They paused, eyeing him. He couldn’t tell if they were going to laugh, or cry, or scream, or run away . His look was blank, as their look was one of shock.

Then they smiled.

“That would be nice, please.”

After that bit of excitement, the rest of the day was dull for both parts. They packed a small bag that had the more important clothing—they were right across the hall, as it were. But...it was a nice sentiment from the hero. Their anxiety had kicked in a few times throughout the day, thoughts screaming in their head.

He’s going to take advantage of you.

He wants you for your quirk.

He’s going to use you.

They had to shut those thoughts out.

Shouta came back in between teaching classes and patrolling the streets in the evening. He knocked lightly, this time he didn’t wait for them to let him inside. They had become so comfortable with each other the last few months that it was second nature to always be around their presence. Their arms wrapped around his waist, a hug so light it were as if they were scared he’d disappear.

What he didn’t know is that was, in fact, their fear.

He returned the embrace, firmer, before helping move the small quantity of things they had packed up to his studio apartment-esque dormitory and handed them their own key.

“If there’s anything I can do to make you more comfortable, please, let me know.”

He saw their first, real smile.

They made themselves as comfortable as they could in their new home. Temporary as it may be, it was home . A safe space for them to be, to exist. It was time for bed now, though they still felt a bit weary trying to sleep knowing that Shouta was still out there being Eraserhead making sure the streets were safe.

So they stayed up...

And stayed up later.

And eventually, clinging onto themselves in the middle of the bed, heard the familiar click of a door being unlocked and saw the pro hero walk in. They almost smiled, until they saw the condition the hero was in.

Their heart dropped.

“Shouta,” his name was rushed out, and they unwrapped themselves from the sheets and ran to him, stopping short in front of him and hovered. He was stabbed in the arm, it seemed.

He shrugged, peeling off the capture scarf that he always had wrapped around his neck.

“It’s fine, I just need some peroxide.” His voice and breathing was so even it should have made them feel better about the situation. There was no panic, no real pain, he would be okay.

But it wasn’t enough for them.

“Shouta, please, please let me—”

“ No .” That was the first time he was ever forceful with them.

They flinched, having to tell themselves over and over again that he wasn’t mad at them, that he wasn’t yelling because they did something wrong, that he wasn’t going to throw them out.

He saw the immediate shift and sighed. He realized now how it could have come across. He called their name.

“Please, you have overused your quirk for so long. This is nothing, just a flesh wound. Please...please don’t.” His voice was at a whisper.

Their anxiety wanted to flare up again, so much. It was yelling in their head again, that he was a liar and that this was the way to get close and use them, use them, use them!

He was going to walk away to go clean up, and they moved without thinking. They had to help him, they had to at least give him something as thanks for the last few months. Their hands reached up to his face, caressing him. Eyes closed, the deep wound he once had on his arm slowly stitched itself together, patching up like nothing had happened. It felt slightly uncomfortable for him, now able to physically feel the healing process at an accelerated rate. But after mere seconds, the wound was gone. Nothing was left except the rip in his clothing.

And then their wound came.

It wasn’t as deep or as large as his, but very much visible on your arm. The blood oozed from the lesion that was created, dripping down their arm. They sighed, taking the pain as best they could before releasing the hero in front of them.

The two stood in silence for what felt like hours, a mixture of astonishment and disappointment written all over his face. They didn’t know how to react, and decided maybe it was for the best if they..left.

Not that he would let them.

He sighed, grabbing a hold of their hand like fine china and brought them over to the first aid in his— their —bathroom.

“That was irresponsible, you know.” There was no malice in his voice.

He worked silently, dabbing peroxide as gently as he could onto the wound and wrapping it neatly with gauze. It was finished up within a matter of minutes, and by the time he looked up their eyes were red and puffy, sniffling away—they were crying.

“Did I hurt you? Why didn’t you say anything?” He questioned, his turn to caress their cheeks.

They shook their head while rubbing away the stray tears.

“I just—” a hiccup “—I just want to say thank you, somehow .” The weeping became louder, no longer able to hold back.

“You have done so much for me, Shouta—too much. I’m always fucking scared, so anxious all the time. I cry all the time, I’m waking up in the middle of the night screaming. And you’re always there! You never complain, you never push me away. I don’t know if this is sympathy or guilt or, or—”

The rest of their words became jumbled in a mess of sobs and heavy breaths, trying to stay afloat in their mind.

They felt something on their forehead.

Shouta dropped his forehead onto theirs, hands moving from their face to caress their back. Their breathing hitched, still sniffling but attempting to keep it under control.

“You are not a burden. You were never a burden. Never to me. Getting to know you has been one of the best things that has happened in my life in a very long time, never think otherwise.” His voice was stern, but sure. No waver in his tone, they could tell he was serious and truthful.

Their now shaky hands were pressed on his broad shoulders, grounding themselves.

“ Why?”

It was a loaded question, they both knew it. Why keep them around? Why were they so special to him? Why did he take so much time even after the physical healing to help them? Why didn’t he go back to his normal routine? Why did he ask them to live with him?

Why, why why —

“Because it seems I have fallen in love with you.”

The rest of the night seemed like a blur, heavy emotions swirling in the atmosphere. There were more tears, on both parts. Confessions were spoken aloud. Bodies melded together on the sheets of their bed. One last I love you whispered in between shared, secretive kisses before finding sleep deep within the night.

It had been now seven months since showing up to UA, three months since they and Shouta had started a relationship together. Their mental stability had gotten stronger, and it seemed like the League of Villains had fallen deeper underground with little to no activity. They were finally in a safe place, able to go home without fear or repercussions.

Except they didn’t want to go.

And if Aizawa were being honest with himself, he didn’t want that either. But he understood that it was a necessary push for them to be free of the mental barrier they had placed on themselves. As long as they were here , in this school, they would be constantly reminded of the reason they felt so trapped. He needed to push them out to the world, just a touch, so they could become better for themselves.

The two stood uncomfortably by the gates of the school, all of their personal belongings, and whatever they wanted to keep that was given to them by the school, packed up. It seemed like a painful goodbye, spending all this time together with the heros and teachers, and eventually students, that they wouldn’t see everyday anymore. An even more painful goodbye to the man they found themselves loving more and more each day. Now that they wouldn’t be a constant in his home, he could easily forget about them. He could replace them with someone not so broken, someone who wasn’t as panicky, someone who he didn’t have to babysit .

“You’re thinking too much.” He broke the silence, and dissipated their doubts, if only by a little bit.

Aizawa grabbed them, just as delicate as any other time he ever held them, and pressed a chaste kiss to their forehead.

“You’ll be alright. You’ve gotten stronger in the last few months. You can do this, you know you can.”

They let out a shaky breath, nodding in agreement.

A month had passed since their departure from UA. The dormitories were missed, but their home was missed more than they thought possible. They spent most of their days cleaning up the place, and getting used to going back out into the world. Sometimes they’d still jump at the shadows. Other times they’d still wake up to the sound of their own screaming.

Other times, they’d feel the weight of the world lifted from their shoulders when a certain someone would remind them that they were doing something thought impossible in the beginning. They were alive , learning how to live again. They started to smile more genuinely, more often.

Tonight marked a month and fifteen days after leaving, and it was the first time Shouta would enter their home. It took a lot of mental preparing, he knew, for them to finally share the piece of their first life with him. This was now solidifying the trust they had been building over the course of the year. They would have a normal dinner date together.

He managed to squeeze himself out of the patrol he originally had thanks to a certain loud friend of his, and made it on time awkwardly holding a bottle of wine with a name neither of them could pronounce. He seemed so out of place at the door, and when they broke into laughter, all the tension was lifted from the scene. He smiled, the feeling reaching his eyes.

“Thank you,” he paused. For trusting me. For believing in my words. For letting me learn about you. For not shutting me out when I pushed you too hard. “For inviting me tonight.”

They smiled with a shake of their head, and led him deeper into their safe place--towards the dining room. “No, Shouta, thank you ,” For being patient. For teaching me how to love myself. For showing me I had the strength to overcome this. For reminding me that I’ll be okay. “For taking the time to come.”

The night was long, and filled with smiles and quiet laughs and shared secrets. The bottle of wine was empty by the end. Now, with their bellies full, the long day had come to an end and with their blessing, Shouta would be staying the night. Somehow, in their inebriated stupor, they had managed to wash up for the late evening and head off to bed.

The two of them stayed awake for a while longer to talk about whatever came to mind. They let out a yawn mid sentence.

“You feel okay?” More of a way for Shouta to see if they’d like to go to sleep.

They gazed at him, hoping that he could see every ounce of adoration and respect they had for him. They thought about the last eight months of their life, how it started off so broken and terrifying. They thought about how the man in their bed started off as a stranger that couldn’t even touch them , that the mere thought of him being too close made them want to claw at their eyes and peel away their skin.

They thought about the moments they wanted to take their own life, how they eventually shared those secrets with him. They thought about the times they didn’t say anything at all.

Then they thought about how over the months they grew, how they became better. How the once-stranger turned into a friend, and eventually, a lover. How he had always been there as an anchor, never overstepping any boundaries and giving them the space they needed whenever they felt unsafe, even from him.

How they learned to cope with the trauma, and learned to manage their panic disorder that was still very much with them due to post traumatic stress.

They thought about how, even though it was a hard and heavy process, they would be okay. That they had survived through hell and came back from it.

Shouta waited, as the gears turned in their head. He knew they were thinking too much, but this time it felt different. When their eyes unfocused the smile on their lips grew, though it was subtle. He let them be; patient as always.

“I’m fine.”

They were still growing, still finding themselves in this terrifying world. But they were managing all the same. They were mending themselves, with some help along the way. No matter how slow the process was, they were healing.

They’d be fine.

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trauma-13 · 4 years ago

Text

Birth story.

I'm posting this mostly so I can remember it down the line when it's not as fresh in my mind.

On may 27th, I had my weekly OB appointment. I was 38 weeks and 2 days. I went in, peed in a cup, and waited for my appt time. I got called back shortly, and had my vitals take. My blood pressure was 128/88. Not bad, but higher than it had been, even just the day before. I honestly didn't think much of it. My provider comes in, says she wants to recheck my BP, draw labs, and schedule me for a induction once I got to 39 weeks. She was concerned because my BP was higher and I had slight protein in my urine-for those not in the medical field reading this, she was concerned I was developing pre-eclampsia which is a very serious complication of pregnancy. So the MA comes back, rechecks my pressure-136/96. I assumed it was from anxiety of now being told I may have pre-eclampsia. My provider was in another room, so the MA had me go to the lab area to start blood work while she waited for the doc to finish in the other room. My doctor walked in the room a couple minutes later and said "nevermind labs, I want you to go to Shea (my delivery hospital)" I immediately started to panic, and asked "why, am I going to be induced?" She told me she didn't know yet, but wanted me to get stat labs, and be monitor vitally and the baby monitored for a couple hours. She said depending on labs would depend if I would be induced. She told me she'd see me at Shea.

Needless to say, I was pure panic. I'm not sure how I didn't burst into tears right then, but I some how didn't. I was terrified. Being a nurse, I know the bad things that can happen, and of course that's all I was focused on. I got to my car, still not crying, and called my husband. I told him to get dressed, and grab stuff to go to Shea, that I was fine and that I would tell him everything when I got home. Still no crying. I called my mom, because well she's my mom and she was going to come and stay with our dogs when I went into labor so they weren't alone for potentially days on end. As soon as mom answered the phone, all the walls came down and I started crying. Not just normal crying, full blown, can't talk, sobbing. She, of course, panics. She knew I had an OB appt, and she assumed the worst. I finally got my self together enough to tell her "I'm fine, the baby is fine," I explained everything that was going on, and that I was heading to the hospital shortly. I talked to her the entire 6 minute car ride home, still crying, and scared. She asked me if I wanted her to come up, and I said yes. She lives 3 hrs away, so it's not like she's close. I didn't know what the next few hours of my life held, and that was terrifying.

I got home, James had grabbed all our stuff, and had made sure to get the extra last minute things too. He asked if I was okay because I'd obviously been crying, I told him physically yes, emotionally no and that I was afraid of the next few hours and the uncertainty. We took the dogs out, stopped to get gas, and headed to Shea.

We get to the hospital around 1pm or so. I told them everything my doc had said, and the tech checking me in said my doc had called ahead and let them know about me. Even more fear sets in. We get back to a room, I give them a urine sample and change into the lovely gown. My nurse comes in and does her exam and tells me the plan. We're going to draw labs, monitor me and the baby and depending on all of the results would determine our next steps. At this point I had let my mother in law, and 3 best friends know what was going on incase we did get admitted for induction.

We sat in the room for a couple hours. I was contracting basically the whole time, but they were about 20 mins apart. I asked the nurse about it, she said they were fairly strong on the monitor, but weren't close enough yet. So around 5pm or so, another nurse comes in, she says my original nurse got pulled into an emergency delivery, but that she was going to discharge me so we could go home. I was a bag of emotions at this point. I had accepted that I'd be induced and would meet our baby soon, and had gotten over the fear and now I was being discharged. I was given strict orders to go home, relax, drink lots of water and "come back in 24 hrs for repeat labs, and make sure to bring your hospital bags when you come tomorrow," to me, that meant we were being induced tomorrow. Apparently it's some insurance thing, that they couldn't induce me that day. No clue.

So we go home. My mom's at the house. I told her everything they said and the plan for the next day.

Fast forward to 4pm the next day, it was time to head back to Shea. We got all of our things together and head over. I got checked into triage and brought back to a triage room. They hooked me up to the monitors, and at that point everything looked okay. Babys strip was great, I wasn't really contracting and my BP was doing okay at 130s/80s. They drew blood and then it was a waiting game.

I had started contracting again about 45 minutes after getting to the hospital. They were strong, and painful, and about 8-10 mins apart. They were painful enough that I was having to completely stop whatever I was doing, and just focus on breathing. I was assuming it was because I was stressed because the same thing had happened the day before. Of course, my blood pressure started to go up. Nothing crazy, but it was higher, about 140s/90s. My doctor came in around 6pm and said she wanted to admit me and induce me. She was concerned that if I went into labor naturally my BP would elevate too much and cause further issues. The plan was to admit me to labor and delivery, start pitocin, do an epidural, and have a baby! My doctor said, "around 4am we'll have this baby, so try to nap and relax once you get to the other room." Shift changed happens at 7pm, so one of the triage nurses started an IV, some fluids and we waited for the night shift nurse to come on for me to go over to the other room.

Around 715-730ish my L&D nurse came over and we headed over to the other room. During the *maybe* 1 minute walk over to the other room I had to stop and just breathe because holy contractions! Again, still convinced I wasn't really in labor. We got to L&D, I sat on the bed, and my nurse started asking me all the normal questions and asked what my plan was reguarding an epidural and if I wanted to do that before or after the pitocin. I was right in the middle of a VERY strong and painful contraction, and I didn't answer her right away. After the contraction passed, she said I looked incredibly uncomfortable and asked if I was okay. I straight up just started crying and told her I was so uncomfortable, and frankly I was terrified of pitocin. James was rubbing my back, and she grabbed my hands and said "don't worry, I'll go page the anaesthesiologist right now and we'll put the epidural in before we even think about pitocin. I want you comfortable first and foremost." I tried to lay down and get as comfy as possible until the doc came in.

Around 8pm he came in, explained the whole procedure and we got it done. It was so quick, and easy and I had such immediate relief. I could finally relax!! Physically and mentally! After the epidural was in, my nurse checked me, I was 4-5cm dialated, 90% effaced and 0 station. My nurse called my doc to ask if we wanted to start pitocin or wait and see what my body did naturally, my doc wanted to start the pitocin just because my BP was still elevated at this point even with the epidural and pain relief. We started the pitocin around 830pm or so, and my water still hadnt broken at this point. The plan was for my doctor to come in at 930pm and break my water if it hadn't happened naturally at that point.

Fast forward to 945ish and my doc comes in to break my water. Weirdest feeling ever. She also put Baby J on one of the internal monitors because he kept coming off the external monitor. At that point I was 5cm, 90%, and still 0 station. My nurse helped me lay on my left side and we were going to try to nap since we were in for a long night. James had started dozing pretty quickly, and I started feeling contractions again. Crazy strong, very frequent, maybe about 1 minute apart or so. I was holding his hand and felt like I was going to break his fingers Everytime I had a contraction. I remember looking at the clock and it being around 1010 and thinking "okay if my nurse hasn't come in by 1015, I'll call her" because DAMN were those contractions painful.

Within a few minutes my nurse came in, I honestly don't know how many minutes it had been because I was busy breathing hah! She said she was going to have the doctor put in an internal contraction monitor as well because she wasn't sure that the external was super accurate. My doc comes in within a few mins, and goes to place the monitor and says "oh, oh, you're complete and we need to push now because he's practically crowning" (apparently all that pain and pressure was my body saying hey let's do this!)

Nothing was ready! We weren't planning on having a baby for another few hours so the birth cart wasn't even in the room. The nurse grabbed one really quick while my doc was putting on shoe covers, she had enough time to throw on the sterile gown and gloves before i felt like I needed to push. My nurse had barely had time to page the baby nurse!

I pushed 3x over that contraction. Definitely yelled fuck, but otherwise, I don't remember saying anything/making any noise at all. My nurse coached me how to push effectively and how to curl my body to help.

Second contraction, pushed 3 more times. The whole time James was holding my left foot and rubbing my shoulder. He was his usual quiet self, which I expect nothing else hah!

Third contraction I pushed 3 more times. At the end of the third one my doc told me to take a big breath and give one big push. So I did. And little dude was born at 1036pm!

I pushed for around 7 minutes total (per James) before our little one was born. I had to get stitches, but I don't even remember it happening. As soon as they put my son on my chest, nothing else mattered. I couldn't stop shaking, or crying. It was completely uncontrollable. I was so overwhelmed! I went from the thought of having a baby hours from now, to having a baby in my arms 7 minutes later! It happened so fast we didn't even have time to tell my mom that it was game time. The plan was to have her on FaceTime so she could help talk to me and support us even though she couldn't physically be there.

Baby J was a few minutes old and I asked James to call my mom on FaceTime. When she answered she immediately started crying once she saw the baby and heard him crying. I kept apologizing for not calling her, I felt so bad even though it's so silly! James told her I started pushing about 10 mins ago and had a baby so quickly we didn't even have time to think about anything else. Of course she wasn't upset at all.

Once I was stitched up, my nurse shut off the epidural and helped clean me up a bit. After she said she was going to step out, and give us time to ourselves with our little one, but to call if we needed her. I held my little boy and just stared at him. He was perfect! The only better thing than holding him myself, was seeing James hold him for the first time. Que crying all over again.

He was born on May 28th, 2020 at 1036pm, 6lbs 1oz, and 19 inches long. I didn't get my June baby, but he's absolute perfection and has our entire hearts. Our little one is turning 7 weeks on Thursday. I can't believe he's been here for 7 weeks already. Motherhood has been the hardest most rewarding thing I've ever done in my life.

#birth story #labor and delivery #obstetrics #pregnancy #momma hood #momma-hood #meee #JTD #motherhood

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for-ests · 5 years ago

Text

Always Enough- Peter Parker x Reader

Okay so this imagine was an anon request that I had previously posted, but I accidentally deleted. I didn't mean to, so here’s a re-upload. Happy finals & sorry my dumbass clicked the wrong button on tumblr mobile because im stupid

Summary (bc the request deleted w/ the post): The reader realizes she had been neglecting Peter because she was stressed over school. Peter thinks there might be another reason because she has become distant. Confrontation and angst follows!

Word count: 2, 360

✭♡✭♡✭♡✭

Finals were a killer, especially for a nursing major like yourself. The stress of it all made you want to curl up into a ball and cry. Cry for hours until you couldn't cry no more.

But that wasn't an option. What you dreamed of becoming, something simple, yet incredibly difficult, was growing out of reach. Your hours of studying had led you nowhere, only to barely tangible grades. Grades that were barely above average. You were disappointed, discouraged, and running out of options.

What else would you do with your life? Becoming a nurse was the only thing you had ever wanted to be, it was all you knew. Ever since aliens rained in the sky, your only motive was to help the ones who couldn't help themselves. But how could you ever hope to do that when you couldn't pass biochem?

What didn't help your anxious mind was the house you had to stress over, and your minimum wage restaurant job that didn't add to your required expertise. Tears welled in your eyes as you remembered you had to lay a payment down on your ever-increasing student loans. Maybe college wasn't for you. Perhaps it was never meant to be. Your summer money was running out and fast.

Just breathe. You repeated. I don't have time to cry.

You could cry after you studied. And right now, you had barely glanced at your flashcards for more than ten minutes. It seemed like you were paralyzed, sitting in bed with your flashcards scattered around you, all of them laid out and waiting for involvement.

Just as you were about to pick up the first card, your phone buzzed beside you. Instinctively, you glanced at it, your heart dropping when you saw Peter's name flash across the screen.

Date. You had a date night, and you forgot.

"Fuck!" You cursed out loud, the tears you had tried so hard to control seeming to burst over your eyelids. How could you forget?

Peter: I'll be there in 15 minutes :D

You replied immediately, glancing at yourself in the phone's reflection. You looked terrible and distraught beyond compare.

Y/N: Peter…im so sorry I forgot, i'm not ready

Peter: oh

Y/N: i have a huge exam soon, maybe its for the best that we rain check? i'm sorry I know ive done this before but im really stressed about it

Peter: we havent talked for days, y/n, i think theres more going on than what youre telling me

Y/N: what? of course not wtf

Peter: im coming over anyways, ill be there soon

Y/N: why?

Peter: we have to talk.

Your heart dropped down to your stomach. Those words were what you had been dreading, and all focus you had managed to gather vanished into thin air. You knew you had been neglecting Peter's affections. Even if every fiber in your being wanted to make him the single most important thing in your life.

It had been almost a week since you'd seen him, and honestly, it was painful in the most innocent way.

But Peter didn't have to worry like you did. He was gifted and already had his entire life ahead of him, set in the middle of Stark industries. But you never asked for a handout, you never asked for help. Even though you knew he was the smartest young man around. You were proud to be his, and the thought of that disappearing was more detrimental to you that failing your upcoming exam.

Y/N: ok, front door is open

Tears were rolling down your cheeks at this point. You had been with Peter for over a year and had gone without seeing him for longer, but he was right. This time was different. This was the third date you had canceled without wanting to, but sometimes apologizing wasn't enough. Peter deserved a lengthy explanation of what you were really going through.

You were so used to holding back your emotions, that times like this were an occasional reoccurrence. You had always been so afraid of unloading your burdens onto others that you still sometimes forgot that having a boyfriend came with that perk. He was still going to love and cherish you if you asked for help and advice. Hell, you needed to realize that he wanted to.

That was a factor of why you were so in love with Peter. He always listened, and sometimes, even push the truth out of you when he could tell you needed it.

"You're already crying, huh." A sad smile was on Peter's face as he opened the door. His sudden appearance startled you, and you managed to chuckle despite the circumstances.

"You know me." You sniffled, immediately embarrassed by the state he had caught you in. Instinctively, you brushed your hair to the side and dabbed the tears from under your eyes. You could feel the remnants of Make-up drying to your skin.

"I didn't mean to ruin your study-"

"But we need to talk." You finished, shoving your school supplies to the edge of the bed. You made enough room, so he was able to sit comfortably.

Slightly embarrassed, you kept your gaze averted as best as you could. Just Peter's presence made your heart flutter, and a part of you was trying to prepare for the worst. You might really lose him this time. And for what? Yes, school was incredibly important, so, so important. But so was Peter, and you needed to find a balance.

Your silence was enough to beckon Peter's thoughts into the open.

"I just need to make sure you're still serious… about us." His voice was soft as if it was struggling to stay neutral.

Finally, gaining the courage to look at him, you locked eyes. Peter's gaze was heavy and forthcoming, and it took all of your willpower to swallow the knot in your throat.

"Of course, I am." The conviction was entirely evident in your tone. So much so, that Peter fell silent. His accusations seemed to die in his throat, but he knew that if he didn't get them out now, they would creep back to him later.

"It's hard to tell sometimes," Peter muttered, unable to gaze at your confused expression. You looked so hurt.

Your silence beckoned him to continue.

"I haven't properly talked with you in a week. You've canceled our last three dates… it seems like you never want to hang out with me anymore."

Peter winced. He was a grown man, and he sounded like a child. Yet, he had let so many things slide, hoping you would come around, hoping you would make it up to him. Perhaps he had been selfish to only think of himself in the relationship. He failed to realize that maybe in attempts to please him, you were putting your own future on the line.

"I know you're going through a lot, but you can't even seem to talk about it." Peter's shoulders felt tense, his eyebrows knitting together in an agitated expression. His leg was bouncing up and down uncontrollably. He looked like he was about to burst.

"I'm sorry." You said, trying to swallow the knot in your throat. Pausing, you tried to gather your thoughts into cohesive sentences that would soothe his anxious mind.

"There's nobody else, right?" He suddenly blurted, actually turning his head to look at you. Insecurity was glazed in his eyes for the first time.

"Why would you even think that?" You said, startled. The question felt as if he had shoved your head underwater and held it there just long enough for you to choke on the liquid.

His expression was blank for the first time. Vulnerability at its finest. "My life isn't perfect, you know. I overthink just like you. I need reassurance."

Peter was so calm, so calm that it worried you. Though you were already afraid of how this conversation would go, it hurt you to realize that this conversation was the result of your actions. You failed to make Peter feel special like you had promised. Like he had promised you. Relationships go both ways, and for the last couple of weeks, it had only gone one.

"No, Peter. There will never be anyone else."

He sighed, relaxing slightly. "You've been acting weird. I don't really know what to think."

"I told you a billion times, I'm studying. After work, that's literally all I do. And I need to focus."

"I feel like there's more. It feels weird to not see a text from you when I wake up. It feels weird to not hear your voice. I don't… I don't like it, Y/N. Even if that's selfish."

And selfish it was. Peter expected you to be transparent while he was hiding possibly the biggest secret in the world. Maybe that was why he was so worried about how much you loved him. Peter wanted to be honest with you. He wanted you to know he was spider-man, but right now, he still couldn't bring himself to. Perhaps he was looking for a reason.

"I'm sorry." Your hands were clenched in your lap. "I've never had to deal with this before. Everything is so new, even if we've been together for a year. I've never cared about anyone like this, and I can't manage my time."

Peter paused as if every word in this conversation pained him to no end. His eyes were glossy, his mind unclear. He was desperately trying to understand why you were isolating himself. "You can't make any time for me?"

"That's the thing, I can't focus on anything else when I'm with you." Your lip quivered. "And that's a problem."

"It's not for me." He said quickly. "I make time for you, and you don't for me. And you need to tell me why."

You glanced away, embarrassed. No matter what you said, the reason wouldn't be good enough. You were just a bad girlfriend.

Peter reached his hand out and pulled you to him. You rested your chin upon his shoulder, soothed to feel his warmth once again. "You need to tell me, Y/N. We've made it work for this long, and all of a sudden, it stopped."

Your body started to shake. Trying to muffle your sob, you brought your hand to your mouth. It was all too much.

"-You have your whole life together, Peter. I have nothing, I still have to work for it. I'm not as smart as you, I'm-"and that's when the tears started to flow. It was a literal flood, tear after tear poured over your eyelids until they were bloodshot, until pressure pounded through your head.

Before you could finish, your face was pressed against Peter's chest. He held you tightly, his sweatshirt dabbing up your tears of sorrow. You gripped tightly to him, releasing the stress that had been building up inside of you for the last two weeks.

He did not know what else to do. Showing you that he loved you seemed like the most viable option. Sometimes all you had to do was listen, and that was enough.

"I got a bad grade on my midterm exam, one that I didn't study for because I spent my time with you—I thought-"

"Shh." He stroked your hair, understanding what you meant without a complete explanation.

"I work so hard, and it's never enough-"

"It's always enough, Y/N."

"I got so caught up in it that I neglected you in the process. So much so that you thought I was cheating on you" you inhaled sharply, whimpering against him, so many different emotions swirling through your mind. "You're the best thing in my life, and I put you second…"

"Look at me, Y/N." He cupped your cheeks in a swift movement, forcing you to look at him through tear-filled eyes. "You are enough for me. That's why I bothered to have this conversation with you. That's why I care." He pressed his lips against your forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too, Peter." You tilted your head up to kiss him wholly on the lips. You were a mess, but Peter had always told you that you looked beautiful when you cried.

"Rosy cheeks." He whispered, patting down your hair, inhaling your scent, and appreciating the beauty you constantly radiated.

You chuckled, sniffling loudly. Peter always said that after you had a successful mental break down, your cheeks brandished a rosy shade.

"Shut up." You whispered, tightening your grip around his torso. His back fell against your bed, and you shifted to lay completely on top of him. The firmness of his chest underneath you caused instant relaxation, instant relief. Maybe, just maybe, being in his presence was enough to get rid of the stress from everyday life.

The corners of your eyes were raw and red, yet it complimented your shade. Peter vowed from the moment he had met you, that he would never let any harm come to you. The last thing Peter had ever expected was that he might be the reason, instead of the world.

At least, for now, he had the power to fix it. You were the love of his life, and he had never felt so gratified to be in anyone else's presence.

Peter's fingers traced light, small circles on your back. He could hear your heartbeat slow. The softness of your finger against his was enough to help him close his eyes.

He was at peace, real peace for the first time in weeks.

"We need to remind ourselves to talk about shit more." You mumbled sleepy, almost inaudible. "So this doesn't happen again, because I hate it."

"Me too, babe." He whispered, content with watching you rise and fall in sync with his breathing.

"I couldn't bear to lose you."

#tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker

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buckys-forgotten-plum · 5 years ago

Text

The One Who Came After

Prompt- To normal Terrans, the Tesseract was strange and confusing, no one really understood how powerful it was or what it really did. That was until you came along...

Warning- Endgame Spoilers (Does that even need to be a warning anymore?), cursing, angst, maybe smut at some point idk

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

It had only been a minute since the dust had settled, since Tony had taken his last breath and was being tended to by a crowd of medics, since Thanos had taken his and was left alone. No one had the time to sit down and recuperate, to come to the realization that it was actually over. Pepper was still beside her fallen husband, along with Peter and Rhodey. Sam, Steve and Bucky were all together, making a plan to scout out all of the injured. At this point, nothing could surprise any of them, each person's soul, body and mind was drained of all feeling.

So, when a bright blue flash of light erupted a few feet away from the fallen hero, it seemed like some robotic movement to everyone as they turn and point every weapon available at the sudden movement.

“Which one of you mortals...keeps fucking... With. My. Stone,” Your breathing was labored and each word was a desperate, dry wheeze.

It took everything in your entire being to not drop down and pass out. Within a week (your worlds week anyway) the universe your world resided in had been flipped upside down three separate times. It had taken an entire unit from each planet to keep the universe from collapsing on itself, and after the third strike, they sent you out to see what in the ever living fuck was happening.

“Who are you? What do you want?” You turned to see a tall, blonde man walking towards you, a hammer and shield in hand.

“I want to know who the hell keeps trying to turn my universe inside out like it’s some kind of reversible jacket!” you growl out, meeting the strangers gaze and refusing to back down, “Don’t you dipshits know to never mess with another universes stones? W-who are you to decide what ha-happens with my world?”

The exhaustion that racked your body made it hard to focus on the figure that stood directly in front of you, and it didn’t take long for you to fall down to your knees. “You-you have no idea-” your vision blurred and you had to place a hand on the ground to steady yourself.

The man who originally approached you knelt down to your height, forgetting about the threat you might have imposed and making sure that you weren’t about to die, “Okay, okay. We can talk about this a little later, we’re all exhausted and need to deal with...things” The stranger states, glancing around at all of the injured and fallen soldiers.

“What happened here?” you ask quietly, weakly looking up into the man’s bright blue eyes.

You didn’t get to hear his reply before your consciousness slipped into the darkness.

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

“S-so, let me get this straight...” Dr. Banner mutters before looking you in the eyes, “You’re from a different universe? Dimension? Thing? That resides inside the Tesseract, and almost falls apart every time the tesseract is used?”

“Yes, I came here to stop whoever was having the bright idea to activate it every five goddamn minutes,” you mutter out groggily, fisting the burn of sleep from your eyes, “which turned out to be a pack of nimrods that, where I’m from, wouldn’t do any of this shit-“

“How’d you travel here? Get outside of the tesseract?” Steve, asked curiously, eyes squinting in suspicion.

“Some magical shit that this dude-“ you lazily motion toward the man in the red cape, “did, I’m not sure what he called it. It doesn’t matter anyways, what matters is that you stop using that stone or I’ll kill you all,”

“Trust me sweetheart, we just defeated the most powerful being in the universe, you don’t have a chance,” scoffs a man from the corner of the room, stripping himself of his red tinted goggles and placing them on a small table next to him.

“Hey bird boy, we didn’t have to fight him twice in my universe. Oh and your goggles look stupid,” you snap, glaring at the man who now looked at you with shock and anger in his gaze

You didn’t have the energy to deal with this group of random miscreants. You recognized all of them, though. Each one was a part of your world back at home, but none as important there as they are here.

“Your from an alternate dimension where Thanos didn’t win the first time?” Dr. Banner asks from his corner by a lab table.

“Um yeah. My team got to him when we found out he was the cause behind the Loki disaster in Los Angeles. We knew he would be a future threat so we didn’t let it get out of control...unlike you guys who almost let your entire universe get destroyed,” the harsh pain in your head hadn’t subsided and you really wished these bafoons would leave you alone.

“There’s a Loki in your dimension too?” You looked at the...thick...version of Thor before answering.

“Yeah Pillsbury doughboy, he’s alive and well there too. Yours isn’t though, I can tell from the emptiness radiated from your body,” your comment was thoughtless as your powers weren’t a big deal back home. Almost everyone had them, the special few were the ones who were born sterile of all supernatural genes.

The room fell into silence after your words and some of the onlookers left the room, including Thor. You were left to be stared at by Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts and a young boy who you hadn’t recognized.

“I-is Mr. Stark alive in your dimension?” The boy asked, tears falling from his has as his trembling body struggled to keep upright.

You managed the strength to get off the examination table and walk up to the poor boy, “if it makes you feel any better kid, in my universe, Tony Stark retired and is living an ordinary life with his daughter and wife in Tahoe. Has been for the last five years of his life. But let me tell you, your Tony did an immeasurable thing to save an immeasurable amount of lives. Is he still here?” You ask quietly. You felt the piercing hurt from this lost boy and easily found it within you to try and help, forgetting about the pain these people had caused your world.

“Why? What do you want with him?” Steve asked crudely, a hard stare set your way.

“I can help him. I know I might seem like a threat but tell me, what more could I do to this world that hasn’t already been done?” Your statement seemed heavy on the three pairs of eyes that followed your lumbering movements as you clumsily made the short journey to the door, “please let me help you so you can help me,”

Miss Pepper Potts was the one to move first, quickly helping you out of the room and into the quiet corridor where she proceeded to lead you to another medical room. This one was filled with machines and IV poles, all of them hooking up to one, completely broken man.

“He’s brain dead, can’t breath on his own, his heart stopped beating on its own, almost all of his bones are broken, lungs are punctured...h-he isn’t even really living right now,” Pepper choked on her words, a trembling hand covering her mouth to mask the sobs that bubbles up from her throat.

“I can help, just, be ready to catch me when I pass out,” you mumble calmly and walk up to the lifeless body.

You knew this had to be done. It would hurt but these people needed this man.

Though it was normal to have some form of powers in your universe, it wasn’t necessarily normal to have the type of powers you specifically possessed. Sure everyone had some for of mild self healing, but yours was a bit different.

“Tell me what the biggest issues with him are again,”

At this point Steve and the broken boy had entered the room and were watching from the doorway.

“I-I can’t remember it all-“ “it’s okay, just tell me the body parts and I can heal them,”

“Brain, heart, and-and his lungs,” she shot out quickly as you placed your hands on his chest and forehead.

“Okay, y/n, don’t freak out...” you mumble to yourself, “Please don’t touch either of us before it’s done. It could mess up the process,” the warning was short and you left little time after for the others to agree before a bright blue light seeped from your hands and into Tony’s body.

Pain instantly went into your brain, heart and lungs and you had to lean onto the man so you wouldn’t collapse to the floor. “Come on, come on,” you mumble and strengthen the flow of energy from your body to his.

You let out a loud groan of pain as the process finally started to work properly. You could heal anyone, anything you wanted. That’s what made you special, but there were always two sides to ones powers where you were from, and the other side of yours was taking parts of the victims injuries and moving them to your own body. You thankfully had a say of which injuries you would take on but you had to take on a certain amount for your powers to work. At this point in time you chose to take on a few broken bones and a couple of punctures to your lungs. Best to spread out the pain than focus on one area.

“Somebody. Call, Dr. Banner,” you call out the order and put your last efforts into healing the parts of his brain that were damaged the most and suddenly there was a different source of wheezing and coughing in the room.

Tony had woken up.

“Oh my god!” Pepper gasped, a trembling hand shooting out to cover her mouth.

The teenager that had remained quiet for most of your consciousness suddenly broke out into violent sobs and fell to his knees, quickly being comforted by Pepper wrapping her arms around his shaking form.

“Tony can you hear me?” Your eyes found his and it only to a moment before he shook his head, wheezing out a quiet ‘yes’.

“Alright, Alright. You’re gonna be okay, y-your gonna be fine. Stay calm, I know it f-feels weird but you can’t fight it. don’t fight it,” your words began to slur together as your consciousness started to slip away.

—————————

A/N: yeah that’s right, i'm writing another series when I have no time or effort stored away to properly finish this or any of my other series or drafts. Please enjoy and don't forget to like, comment, and reblog!

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cinnaminsvga · 5 years ago

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intermission • iv | eclipse

→ summary: When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.

→ pairing: bts x reader (feat. sera) → genre: college!au, crack, fluff, angst → warnings: sfw other than some ugly jealousy c/o a snake → words: 4.9K → a/n: sera didn’t always use to be a shitty person. well, that’s a lie. she was always a shitty person. she just used to be able to hide it well.

— • masterlist | prev | intermission iv | next • —

–– the first day of freshman year ––

The line for the free freshman orientation merchandise is longer than Sera had anticipated, even though she had arrived almost an entire hour early. Though most people would have dismissed the lengthy queue, Sera is Asian as Asian could get, her genes forbidding her from skipping over free shit when free shit can be received. She is sure her ancestors would never forgive her if she allowed this opportunity to slip through her fingers. And so, Sera waits with the rest of the cattle as the line shortens slowly, the heat of the early sun reminiscent of the summer months that should have already passed.

After sweating her body’s weight worth of sweat, she finally finds herself near the front of the line, foot tapping impatiently as the rowdy bunch of newly hatched boylings before her fought amongst themselves for the canvas knapsacks over the pink water bottles. Fragile masculinity at its finest, Sera thinks, as she watches with something akin to pity as the runt of the litter ends up with the “girlier” merchandise in the end.

At this point, all the better free items have mostly run out, though Sera wouldn’t mind getting the university emblem encrusted notepad and pen set. It is only a matter of moral principle when she gets the water bottle after seeing the boy from before shooting her with a desperate look, probably hoping to trade items with her if she had gotten something else. Sadistic pleasure courses through her veins when she sees the light fade from his eyes, the inevitability of his pink water bottle fate permanently sealed.

Puny boy. Drink your nasty energy drinks from your pink tinted bottle for all she cares. She’ll be doing the same, at least.

Free from that slow torture, Sera now has to subject herself to more agonizing torment by waiting for the rest of her orientation group members to arrive, most of whom should have gotten to the intended meeting location by now. She observes as her harried orientation leader tries unsuccessfully to get your small group to interact with one another, his fake cheery smile looking more strained as the apathetic faces of sleep-deprived freshmen fail to respond to his forced banter.

Her orientation leader, whose name she cannot recall for the life of her but will call “Mike” from now on, coughs awkwardly into his spotted handkerchief before dabbing his sweating forehead. Sera grimaces when she notices that a small glob of snot remains stuck to his skin where he had touched, though no one seems obliged to alert him of this fact. He glances at his watch, jumping from one foot to the other, as he does another headcount for the third time in the last ten minutes.

“7… 8… 9…” His finger hovers when it reaches the last person, his brow turned downwards in worry. The glob of snot dangles ever precariously from its perch. “Umm… Does anyone know where the last person is? We’re supposed to be ten, and the first part of our agenda is starting soon.”

Sera wonders why on earth he’s asking that as if they were supposed to be friends with one another. The university had forced everyone to make a group chat with their orientation groupmates a week ago, which was honestly a lost cause considering that everyone was randomly sorted into groups. Sera’s group chat only has two messages so far, with both being from the orientation leader himself. Out of ten people, only two of them have seen the messages, with Sera being one of them.

If that’s an indicator of how today is going to be, then Sera should have poured some shots into her kombucha like a sane person would have.

“Maybe you should try calling her?” One of the girls in her group says, her gaze never leaving her phone as she types rapidly, her dexterity astonishing despite her inch-long acrylic nails. Mike, on the other hand, stares forlornly at the black screen of his phone.

“No can do. My phone died a few minutes ago when I was in the middle of calling my mom. I guess I was too excited when I was telling her about today’s orientation day.” He laughs half-heartedly at that, and Sera might’ve felt a little bad for the guy if his phone didn’t have a keychain of an anime girl with big ol’ dobonhokeros. The only thing missing from his outfit is a big backdrop of his mom’s basement behind him to complete his look.

Mike looks around the group expectantly, obviously trying to catch the eye of one of you. Everyone’s heads bow down immediately, sensing that some effort and participation are about to be required from one of them. Nothing gets tired teens to disappear into the ground quicker than being asked to volunteer for anything that needed 0.01% of their brainpower. Unluckily for Sera, she is a bit too slow in her response, immediately locking gazes with Mike as a grin stretches on his face.

“Sera! You must know Y/N, right? I saw that you and Y/N had opened the group chat the other day. Why don’t you try calling her?” He says brightly, no signs of his depression from earlier. Two boys in Supreme hoodies snicker loudly at Sera’s dismayed face, and she vows to “accidentally” stomp on their pristine white sneakers later with her muddied old trainers.

“Um. Alright,” she agrees through gritted teeth, pulling out her phone with a heavy hand. Sera wonders if you’ll even take the call, possibly wary of answering an unknown number. Her pondering only lasts a second when you answer the call on the first ring, your heavy breaths being the first sound that greets Sera’s ears.

“I’m lost! I can’t find the soccer field! I’m running as fast as I can,” is your jumbled reply, followed by a screech on your end and what sounds like a honking car in the distance. “Sorry!” you call out immediately afterwards, and Sera hazards a guess that you were only two inches away from being roadkill.

“Yeah, this is Sera, one of your orientation groupmates. Mik–I mean, our orientation leader is wondering where you are.”

“I’m–” There is a pause, and Sera thinks for a moment that you might have dropped the call by accident or something. Then, you reply shakily, sniffling slightly. “I… I don’t know??? Help???”

What is it with today? Sera is meeting more people than she would like, and all of them seem to be the human equivalent of a cry for help. Surely, this is a test from above? However, there is something endearingly pitiful about your quiet sobs that makes her want to help you a little bit. She is never one to offer her services so freely to any stranger, but then again… She could become friends with you if you weren’t such a crybaby all the time.

“Describe where you are. I’ll try to come get you,” she says, not missing the way you gasp at her generosity. A feeling of pride settles into her chest, not disliking the way you must be so grateful for her benevolence. She should do this more often.

“Will you really? Oh my god, thank you!” you say giddily. You are quick to describe your surroundings, and luckily, Sera knows exactly where you are. The good thing about being a perfectionist is that Sera loves to over-prepare, so she already did her own tour of the campus before orientation day. In hindsight, she wonders why she even bothered to attend when she could handle herself perfectly. Oh right, the free stuff.

“Okay, hold tight. Be there in a bit,” she says before hanging up the phone. Sera turns back to Mike, who looks awfully smug for being as inept as he is. He begins to gather the rest of the group together, addressing all of them loudly.

“Thanks to the lovely Sera, our last member will join us shortly. In the meantime, we’ll head to the auditorium for the first event of the day while Sera finds Y/N!”

Wait– “You’re leaving me?” Sera shouts, jaw agape. Isn’t he supposed to be in charge? Whatever happened to teamwork and all that shit he was spouting literally ten minutes ago? Yet, here he was. All Mike the Mighty Ass does is shrug his shoulders, patting her impetuously on the back.

“We’re not leaving you! The auditorium is just over there,” Mike points to the imposing domed stadium just across the field. “And we’ll be seated right at the front, so just look for us there!”

“That stadium has a 7000 person capacity. How the hell am I supposed to–”

Sera doesn’t get to finish her sentiment as Mike raises his gaudy orange flag high up into the sky, signaling the rest of the group to follow his lead. None of the little shits even bat an eye as they quickly leave Sera in the dust to look for you.

As Sera gawks at the rapidly emptying field, she surmises that no number of free water bottle could ever amount to the trauma that the past few hours have inflicted on her. You better kiss the ground that she walks on when she finds you, or else there will be consequences to pay.

Finding you is easier said than done. Sera is sure she knew where you were from your descriptions, though there is a possibility that she might have overestimated herself. Either that or your explanation had been vague at best.

“‘In front of the weird blue houses,' she said,” Sera mutters to herself, looking up at the only blue-painted buildings in sight. She supposes that “weird” is subjective, as the houses appear quaint as can be, though maybe you had found the little garden gnomes at the front to be a bit disconcerting. Regardless, there seems to be no other person in sight, unless the crotchety old man in the wheelchair might be you.

She is just about to call you again when a person with twigs in their hair comes running down the sidewalk, their backpack thumping harshly against their back with every step they take. They are waving their hands wildly in the air, a large grin on their face as they struggle to slow down their momentum before inevitably tumbling into Sera’s slight body.

She found you.

“Ooph!” Sera groans, barely holding onto her senses as she tries her best to keep both of you upright. “What the fuck? Where were you?”

“Sorry, sorry!” You apologize repeatedly, swatting away bits of leaves from your hair that consequently fall onto Sera’s sweater. “I got a bit distracted by this dude at a hair salon and I had to make a run for it–”

“Whatever,” Sera interrupts, tugging you by the elbow and back to where the orientation is being held. “Let’s just get out of here before we miss out on the stupid orientation.”

You stumble a bit as you follow after her quick strides, having to hobble a little to catch up. You tilt your head curiously at your surroundings, not recognizing any of the landmarks at all. “Uh. You sure we’re going the right way? All these buildings look weird…”

“Says the chick who couldn’t even find the soccer field.” Sera snorts, continuing to walk with determination. “If you’re going to ogle at every ‘weird’ building we pass, then it’ll take us years to get there. Hurry up!”

After taking a few wrong turns and reaching two deadends, it is only then Sera admits that she might have forgotten the way back. It’s not her fault; she’s only been on campus for a few hours before. To your credit, you don’t seem all that disheartened as she had expected, unlike how distressed you had sounded on the phone earlier. In fact, you are skipping happily along beside her, pausing every often to take a few pictures of the dormitories and lecture buildings like a tourist.

“It’s like this is the first time that you’ve ever seen a building,” Sera jokes, taking a seat on a bench as she watches you frolic around a water fountain. You strike a weird post at her, smiling radiantly with your teeth showing.

“It’s because I only just moved here! I was late because I was busy unpacking my stuff in my dorm room,” you explain, straightening up into a more dignified posture before going to sit beside her.

Sera looks at you curiously. “Oh? You’re living on res? Are you from out of town?”

You shake your head. “Nah. My mom and I live pretty far off though, and I’d prefer not to take a commute in the morning. It’s chill though; I’m sharing a room with this dude I used to go to high school with.”

“They have co-gendered dorm rooms here?” Sera’s interest is piqued, and you are quick to notice it. You laugh, shrugging your shoulders.

“Uh, kind of? We’re like childhood friends and his mom is really close with the residence dean, so she asked if we could room together, just for the first year. She doesn’t really trust him with strangers. He’s really shy, so he’s uncomfortable rooming with someone he doesn’t know.”

“So, you guys aren’t, like, dating or..?”

“Me? Dating Jungkook? Oh God, that’s funny!” You laugh, slapping your knee. The more you think about it, the more ridiculous the idea is. “He’s like a bro to me! I would never date him.”

Sera smiles, a seed of an idea being planted in her brain. She stores it for later, but for now, she asks “Oh? So you’d be fine with introducing him to me sometime? I’d love to meet new people.”

“Sure, dude. He’s really introverted, so I doubt you’ll get too much out of him,” you hum. You close your eyes, enjoying the way the breeze gently caresses your face as Sera observes you from the sidelines.

Interesting, she thinks. She’ll definitely hang around you more. You are not as annoying as she had originally thought, and maybe it would be nice to have a friend to hang out with in between classes. Unassuming, overly excitable, naive… You’re just an innocent puppy, who will follow anyone who pets it. Easy enough; Sera can afford to accommodate you.

Sera smirks, allowing herself to enjoy the breeze as well. University might not be so bad after all.

A few months pass, and being friends with you isn’t as tedious as Sera had feared. In fact, you are a pretty chill person, someone whom Sera never needs to pretend to save face around. To you, her little mean streaks are nothing but little “quirks,” and you often wave them off as silly parts of her personality. Most of the time, the things Sera says are just that: jokes. More often than not, however, Sera has just grown comfortable around you to let her filter run a little loose, letting her goofier and bitchier side come out more easily.

Call it naivety or stupidity, but Sera is thankful to have you around.

Nevertheless, there are still some small moments when that thankfulness falls a little short. Take, for example:

“That TA is totally a bitch! She gave me an 80 on that essay only because her ex-boyfriend hit me up on Instagram. It’s not my fault that her boobs sag all the way to her hips!” Sera exclaims a little too loudly, and you have to silence her through stilted giggles as the two of you pass by the aforementioned TA.

“Marina isn’t that petty,” you say, though your defense is a little too lackluster to be effective. In fact, you’ve been a bit spacey all afternoon, not really present in most of your conversations together. You exit the lecture hall, walking to the cafeteria to grab some lunch. Sera has to pull you out of the way of two speeding bicycles before she thinks to ask you what’s up.

“Huh?” You mumble back, still smiling dopily at nothing. You’ve always been the type to get lost in your head, which is hilarious to Sera, given that your current debilitating crush is on none other than the most air-headed boy on campus. She supposes there is a certain appeal for opposite personalities, though it is funny that out of all the men on campus, you had to choose the heart-on for none other than–

“I was asking you what’s up with you,” Sera repeats, tutting as the two of you arrive at the cafeteria with no further casualties. “Seriously, it’s like your head is in your ass. Don’t tell me you finally got dicked down in the janitor’s closet and you’re basking in the afterglow.”

Sera’s crude comment is what finally gets you to snap out of it. “Hell no, you sex fiend!” You hiss, cheeks reddening at the jab. “Are you ever going to let that go? I told you that fantasy in confidence!”

“My lips are as loose as my pussy, my dude. You should know by now.” Sera says plainly, directing the two of you to one of the sushi joints. You don’t even protest Sera’s choice like you ordinarily would, as you have previously gotten intense food poisoning from one of their sashimi platters a week back. You must really be overthinking something then.

“I know. I’m just saying shit right now,” you say, pulling up a chair and plopping down. You fiddle with the soy sauce bottle contemplatively. “I’m spacing out because I’ve been thinking about the essay we just got back.”

“Oh?” Sera says, eyebrows lifting at that. She pulls out the menu, taking charge for the two of you as you have never quite mastered the art of choosing what food to get. Also, you’re scared of flagging down waiters, for whatever reason. “Did you also get saggy tits as your TA? I’m still mad about that B+, by the way.”

“That’s the thing,” you pause, accidentally flipping open the soy sauce bottle’s cap and spraying yourself with drops of the dark liquid. Neither of you even flinch when it happens, so used to catastrophes happening when it comes to you. You’re like a walking disaster magnet, and Sera has no idea why karma hates you so much. It’s a miracle that you’re alive, sometimes.

So it does come as a huge surprise to her when you follow up by saying, “She gave me an A+.”

The menu drops out of Sera’s hand. “What?” she nearly screeches, scaring the waiter who had been idly standing by your table. You point an apologetic glance at him as he scurries as far away from the two of you as possible, but Sera is undeterred. The words that had come out of your mouth makes no sense whatsoever.

“But… Marina literally gives no one higher than an A! I’ve got sources from upper years saying that she’s a beast when she grades – there must have been a mistake!” Sera says, not bothering to be polite.

You shrug, looking just as confused. “I thought so too. I was going to talk to her after class a while ago, but thought better of it and decided to not look a gift horse in the mouth… Better to accept it than question it, right?”

Sera hums, not wanting to admit that it was irking her that you didn’t ask the TA about it. Her annoyance is unwarranted, however, because she would’ve done the same. Why argue over a blessing? Still, it pains her to know that you got a higher grade than she did, even though you are taking the writing course as an elective, while Sera is a writing major herself.

The two of you enjoy your meal as if nothing had happened, and that is the first time in a long while since Sera has needed to put a façade around you.

In the next coming sessions, Sera and you begin to realize that the A+ had not been a fluke as you consistently continue to ace the quizzes and assignments for your creative writing course. Your professor has been badgering you to consider switching courses for a week now, and you’ve politely declined each and every time.

“Music is just more my thing, you see,” you explain to him, bowing quickly as you exit out of the room to escape another ten minutes of his incessant pleading.

It’s really starting to grate Sera’s gears a little bit.

The thing is, Sera knows she is being petty. It’s not even a new occurrence for her, as she has been known to ditch people once they start being better at her in anything.

Gymnastics in 4th grade had been a bust when star athlete Jinyoung Choi discovered her flexibility during PE. Mathematics had gone down the drain once Abegail Sun had won the Mathlete Competition for the third time in a row. Writing should have been Sera’s only crowning achievement, as she had always grown up with people around her praising her ability to weave universes with her words.

She can’t share that spotlight, not when she’s been pushed into the shadows numerous times already. This time, she’s not going down without a fight.

The worst part about the whole situation isn’t even that you were like a baby waiting for their candy to be stolen. With Sera’s connections and sly tendencies, it wouldn’t be hard to crush you where you stood. She’s only done it once back in high school, stripped someone of their confidence so savagely that they were forced to move to another school. She is sure she could do it again, but for whatever reason, it feels like it would be too easy of a win.

The worst part is that you didn’t even want the limelight, the success. Creative writing is just a hobby for you, and you certainly don’t deserve the recognition at all. Effort should be awarded its due, and you have certainly never exerted more than a pinky finger’s worth in your entire writing career.

The final straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back, which pushed Sera past the point of reason, comes much later than anyone might have guessed. Sera’s patience is like plastic, sometimes durable and heat resistant, but oftentimes flimsy and tearable. It does not take a genius to figure out that all plastic must melt, one way or another.

Second-year comes, and Sera has all but allowed her simmering hatred to remain as just that: simmering. She is careful never to let it boil over, fearful of letting you see her break in the event that you would retaliate. Her problem is that she had allowed you to grow, forgetting to stomp on your confidence every so often so that you would be forced to depend on her. Now, you have amassed a sizeable following for your writing online, and Sera knows that you could use that power against her if you pleased. Cancel culture can be like the plague, and Sera knows the ins and outs of it better than anyone else.

Sera knows logically that you would never do that to her, as much as you would like to. Your morals restrain you from doing so, which saves Sera from some anxiety of backlash at least. Still, she has to remain careful anyway.

The two of you do not see each other as often as you once did during your first year. As sophomores, your majors require you to take more courses specialized towards your degree, meaning the general education courses that you shared were no longer required. The only time you ever saw Sera is during Creative Writing and the occasional lunch out in between classes.

Despite that, Sera just can’t get away from you, no matter how hard she tries. Your presence is everywhere: on the university newspaper, on the university forums, on club recruitment posters – hell, she thinks she sees some dude wearing a t-shirt with your face and Jungkook’s face printed on the front or something. Worst of all, she hears about you all the time, from her stupid professors who can’t stop waxing poetic about you. Case in point:

“Professor, may I speak to you?” Sera approaches Professor Puth at the front of his podium once class ends, whiffs of musky marijuana hovering around him like a cloud. You give Sera a confused look, about to ask what she wants to ask before she waves you off, urging you to go ahead.

“I’ll see you next Thursday. I got a tutorial right after this,” Sera lies smoothly, poised grin in place. Not really one to question her, you shrug your shoulders, waving both her and your professor goodbye.

“So,” Professor Puth says, peering at Sera. “Sera, right?”

Sera beams at him. “Yes, Professor. Glad you remember me.”

He hums thoughtfully, tongue jutting out as he appraises her with eyes sharper than any stoned person would have. “Yes, of course. What did you want to talk about?”

“You see, I got my assessment draft back this morning, and it says I got a C+ on it, but I’m sure I followed the rubric very carefully. Are you sure there wasn’t a mistake?” Sera says, not a hitch in her voice despite her outrage slowly starting boil over the edge. She’s never felt so humiliated in her life, having to beg like a dog for a regrade like some sort of pitiful loser.

“You might want to ask the TAs about regrading, in that case. I only graded a few of the works. Which one was yours about?”

“The poem about the withering tree, Professor.”

“Oh, yes. I remember that one. I was the one who graded it,” Professor Puth says, rubbing his chin. He tilts his head. “What did you want to ask about it?”

Sera stares at him, disbelief coloring every inch of her face. “Um, I just said… I wanted to ask – I followed the rubric and everything, so how come my grade was…” she trails off, embarrassed.

Professor Puth tuts, swiveling away to approach his desk. Sera follows, unsure for the first time in her life, as he starts rearranging his things to pack up. “Sera, I can e-mail the rubric to you again, if you want. I assure you, there is one essential part of the grading scheme that you forgot, and I’m afraid that is what cost your grade.”

Sera thinks. “Was it… the formatting?”

He barks out a laugh, slamming his papers down as if what she had just said was the funniest thing he’s heard since a Yo Mama joke. “No, of course not. It was the content! The emotion! You cannot just string highfalutin words together and expect the reader to feel moved.”

Sera flinches, offended. “I think those aspects of poetry are very subjective, Professor. Surely, you could ask for a second opinion–”

“I always ask for second opinions when grading assignments,” he says, wagging a finger. “We all agreed that your work was at least a C+, though I had originally graded it a C- at best.”

Once again, for the first time in her life, Sera is at a loss for words. Never has she been so casually humiliated before, especially after all the time she has put in to being nothing but a stellar student for all her professors. This must be some sort of bad dream.

“On the other hand,” he continues, pausing in his packing to stare at Sera. She does not feel like he is truly looking at her; rather, he looks to be lost in thought about something else entirely. “That friend of yours… Miss Y/N, right? I’ve always heard about her from my colleagues.”

The mention of your name causes the hairs on the back of her neck to bristle, and Sera goes defensive immediately. “What about her?” she cautions.

“Oh, just that she’s a wonderful writer. Very moving stories with lots of depth. I was a bit skeptical at first because Professor Whitney has always been a bit of a softie with freshmen… but she was right,” he nods to himself, a small smirk on his face. “That girl… I don’t doubt in the slightest that she could make someone fall in love with her just by writing them a piece.”

The comparison might have hurt less if he had used a different example, anyone else really. Some unknown sap that Sera could tear piece by piece without a shred of remorse, made easier by the fact that she did not have to know and care for them. You, on the other hand…

It has always been you. She rues the day she met you, when she had thought you were nothing but a meek little puppy to play with, not knowing that you had a hidden dagger behind your back. How foolish of her to let her guard down, and it makes her even angrier to think that you had no idea of the pain you have inadvertently caused her. No, she will make you understand her pain, her struggle. It is only right and just.

All she had to do was wait for an opportunity to strike and until then… It should be easy to keep up this charade. She has done it for more than a year, and she can do it for another ten. She has been doing it all her life, in fact.

When that day comes, she’ll be ready, and there’s nothing you can do but watch as she burns your whole world to the ground.

#bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts #bts imagines #bts angst #bts crack #bts fluff #bangtan #bts fanfic #not much bts cameos in this one... except for baby freshie jungoo uwu #wish i had a jungoo in my life HAH

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jimlingss · 4 years ago

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pt.2 of yesterday

I don’t want to flood people’s dashes, so hopefully answering your messages here will suffice!

anonymous asked: Hi! I wanted to tell you how much I love your work and how you make me enjoy every Monday thanks to your regular updates ! I saw a previous anon telling you how your writings lacks of emotion and I totally disagree with them... obviously everybody won’t like it but your stories just DON’T lack of love or emotion this is madness I want to thank you for publishing your amazing stories freely here for everyone to read. (Sorry if my English is weird I’m french ejfjekfjd)

“this is madness” LOL

You’re hilarious, anon. And your english is perfectly fine!!!

anonymous asked: Hello! Im the culinary student anon who sent you an ask a while ago and i saw you received an ask about the lack of emotion from your stories. I read kitchen romance and i actually really really like it and don’t quite understand how it lacks in emotions as I interpreted the stories more like the beginning of the oc and jin’s love story and they are only starting to open up to each other so i guess thats why anon might feel like it lacks romantic vibe from both of the characters. (1)

Anonymous said: Just want to tell you that you’re one of the best writer and ive been following you for 2/3 years now, you never failed to amaze me with your writings!! All your stories are so well written that i sometimes wonder how do you come up with such an amazing plot every single time and your stories are always nice to re-read and the effort you pour into creating your stories is also admirable (2)

while i was reading kitchen romance and ive only started s&c (currently on chapter 4) i can say that its pretty similar with how it is irl (and the part where we find out jk is an iu fans reminded me of my ex-crush whose also a culinary student, i would like to tell you a story about it but ill just waste your time lol) , just want to send you a few encouragement and love for you and your writings *sending virtual hugs* (3) -👩🏻‍🍳anon

You’re too kind, thank you (and also, welcome back!). I’ll be frank, there was a hot second I was considering taking down Kitchen Romance but I didn’t cause I don’t want my efforts of editing it to go to waste asdfghjkl. I can’t believe you’ve been sticking around me for so long :’) it’s always nice to know some folks stay. Anyway, I’m glad that Sugar and Coffee is pretty similar to how it works irl since I tried my best to do research. I definitely love a good storytime as well so don’t worry about wasting my time :>

Anonymous said: a good majority of your fics display an unfathomable amount of DEPTH. regarding character development. plot. even the shortest lines of dialogue reveal so much more to the character and unveil their true emotions. i personally think the more REALISTIC side of love may be perceived as 'bland.' ‘emotionless.’ whatever you want to call it. nothing’s wrong with portraying a relationship that isn’t overboard with a whole lot of tooth aching fluff or lowkey annoying pda. +1

Anonymous said: there’s nothing wrong with taking out a bit of emotion to fit the PERSONALITIES of the characters. some people out there don’t necessarily feel a lot of emotions. so it’s honestly not really a mistake if a story lacks it (unless it was unintentional). subtlety is an art that is hard to master, but you’ve done it! and to respond to the anon, sometimes, if you skim through a fic without reading every word the author intended for you to read, +2

Anonymous said: then it’s quite common to not feel the full extent of the emotions you were supposed to feel. just a thought but no hate. we’re all entitled to our opinions. but besides that, kina, you write on a vast scale ranging from hardcore angst to diabetes-inducing fluff. and you do it beautifully. sure there are some stories that are better than others, but i believe a LOT of it comes down to personal preference and taste. +3

Anonymous said: even if you are feeling creatively limited, you work hard to continue writing for your readers, and your determination and diligence wILL NOT GO UNNOTICED. i just want you to know that you write amazingly. your syntax is practically immaculate, your characters feel real… the endings of your stories always wrap something up and the strings are tied—even if it isn’t necessarily a happy ending. you can convey hundreds of different characters through WORDS. +4

Anonymous said: i’ll have you know that it’s hard to write. it’s even harder to write about people who aren’t YOU. so as someone who looks up to you a lot, i want to commend you for your writing. some of your fics that i read on a monthly basis: tears of a villain, a piece of the moonlight, head over heels to hell, ghost in the machine, a mark of betrayal, a kiss of poison, until yesterday, the truth between us and arcadia. +5

Anonymous said: to be fair, there were way more fics but i didn’t want to make this message any longer than it already is LOL. i find these pieces wonderful. heart wrenching. and SO DAMN EMOTIONAL IT PLAGUES MY MIND FOR DAYS. also you’re literally one of the few fucking people who can use the em dash correctly. thank you so much for sharing your talent with us! +6

Oh my goodness. I don’t even know what to say, anon. This is a whole damn thesis and it’s about my fics :’> You know, it’s easy to brush off fanfiction as a ‘whatever’ thing and indeed, it isn’t that big of a deal compared to some things in the world. But I really do take all my stories seriously and put forth a lot of effort - so to see it recognized and appreciated it makes me beyond happy. It’s good to know that my efforts haven’t gone to waste at all and that there are people out there who will support me no matter the endeavours I take. Thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to me.

((Also, honestly I picked up the em dash usage after I wrote The Truth Between Us with gukyi who used it. I’m pretty sure I’m not using it right but to hear that I am, god damn that’s a breath of relief right there))

backtobleuside submitted: Are you kidding me!? Your stories don’t lack love at all. They’re the kind of fics that you read, soak it all in and then come back for more. I’ve cried so much when I read Beyond reach, Boo-lieve in me, A piece of the moonlight, His name, Tell me lies etc. etc, and also laughed and felt the emotions of not just the OC, but also the other characters. Kitchen Romance was also so fluffy and sweet and personally, I don’t think that anything needs to be added to it. Anyway, your fics do not lack emotion—you’re probably the first author I send a message to because your stories impacted me a lot and left a strong impression on me. I even imagine your characters as real people who have real lives that continue on even after the story is done.

asdfghjkl thank you :’) I see you every week and sometimes several times at that. I really appreciate your consistent feedback and following. You never fail to send me a message too which I appreciate a lot. I’m glad you’re enjoying everything I’m producing!!

youngfleurever said: Would just like to say that your fics do in fact make me violently sob to the boy where my eyes are so swollen I have trouble opening them the next day and I wake up feeling like there’s sawdust in my mouth because I’m dehydrated.

oh my god. please keep yourself hydrated hahahahhaha more importantly, how do you know what sawdust in your mouth is like. WHAT have you been doing LOL

Anonymous said: I’ve felt emotions that I’ve never felt before when I read your fics.... so as a person that has read your entire masterlist, I DO NOT think that your fics lack emotion.... I hope you don’t feel disheartened because you’re one of my favourite writers, not just on tumblr but like, evER 💓💓💓💓💓💓

Please, even if I was disheartened, the overwhelming amount of feedback and praise has completely overridden it :’)

joonie-mono said: when tumblr deletes the first part of your ask 🙄😌✌️

LOOOOOOOL

haylo4ever said: Sorry had to add my 10 cents. You're such a talented writer,,, I WISH I could write a smol smol 1/1000000000 that you write,,, like I remember when I followed you bc I was in awe of your writing.... I mean?? Sure maybe not every fic hits it with someone but it's just ridic to name drop (a friend nonetheless) when you're all extremely talented writers.

Trust me, writing comes with practice!! I should honestly just tattoo that on me. God knows my first fanfic was absolutely GARBAGE. I didn’t know pacing, didn’t know that I should separate chunks of paragraphs, how to write dialogue or describe scenes properly. I went in blind. Even my second, third and fourth fanfic was garbage. You could definitely get to “my level” or even far surpass it with enough dedication and practice. I mean I’ve been writing for four years, so thank GOD there’s been improvement. I wouldn’t be natural if there wasn’t. But clearly the more you practice, the better you improve! That applies to anything.

The me in ten years will certainly be better now.

Anonymous said: Hi kina! I’m here in support of kitchen romance! I actually didn’t feel like it was missing a ton of fluffy moments (and I say that as a huGE LOVER OF FLUFF) but the story was just as entertaining in the whole chase of them getting closer to each other! It’s honestly one of my favorite one shots I’ve read lately and I’m not saying that lightly! Also, that anon that said your work lacks emotion has probably not read like half of your masterlist bc oO MAN QUEEN OF MAKING ME CRY- black heart anon🖤

Thank you :’]

Anonymous said: Ok I’m very offended wow the audacity!Specially coming for my baby kitchen romance like that story made me feel so much and it’s only one of the many fics you have written kina like I’m literally baffled like dynasty has made me cry scream happy and hot all at the same time and I was literally just thinking about it that whole weekend and this anon has the nerve to say your stories lack emotions?When you are literally the queen of show casing all types of emotions in your stories!You did it all

Anonymous said: Also 😭😭😭😂😂😩hoooooooow and whereeee did they see any lack of love and emotions like have you read jungle park???? Inside my mind??? FREAKING SUGAR AND COFFEE (like this fic is made with love and I- ) Actually you know what , just read the whole masterlist😩😩💗💗💗

LOL tbh I didn’t expect Dynasty to receive the love it has. I was actually kind of wary when posting it cause it’s kind of Wild.

bangtans-peaceful-piegon said: just gotta say u handled that whole anon thing so well which not only makes me admire u as a writer but even more as a person :] (i mean i knew u were gr8 before the whole deal but yeah love ya 💛)

tbh, I’m not sure how well I handled it cause I was flooded with over 30 messages afterwards (evidently) ;_; which I love and appreciate but I’m not really as hurt as some people think hahaha criticism should be received well but it’s still hard not to take personally tbh. It’s gonna have to be something I work on or perhaps it’ll be one of those things that I’ll take better with age.

#anonymous #👩🏻‍🍳anon #backtobleuside #youngfleurever #joonie-mono #haylo4ever #black heart anon🖤

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cainfm · 5 years ago

Text

『BILL SKARSGARD ❙ NONBINARY』 ⟿ looks like CAIN ROMANOV is here for THEIR SENIOR year as a LITERATURE student. THEY are 25 years old & known to be RIGHTEOUS, TRUE, EVASIVE & GUARDED. They’re living in MORIS, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ JAMES. 21. EST. SHE/THEY.

hdsjnf hello all ... it is james again ... here with another ... replacing noelle with cain bt it’s fine im fine. i’ve hit muse limit u wn’t hear frm me again ... so hit tht like button .. this isnt the best intro ive done bt mostly bc im just kinda like ... taking an old one n rewriting it as i go

TW CULTS, HEROIN USE / ADDICTION, DRUG ADDICTION / USE, ABUSE, PSYCHOLOGICAL / EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, PTSD, ANXIETY, TRAUMA.

aesthetics.

dangling limbs from tree branches, yellowed book pages, opened bottles of vintage wine, oversized sweaters and deep under eyes, bleached denim, worn leather gloves, cat hair against black cloth, fields of wheat, broken windows, descending staircases, tight-lipped smiles during public appearances, golden skies, light spilling from windows, stumbling over one’s own words, wire-framed beds, linens, wool scarves, making the wrong decisions; running, from others and yourself.

basic info.

full name: cain alexei romanov

nickname(s): n/a

b.o.d. - feb 19th, pisces :) happy birthday!

label(s): the connard (previously), the escapist, the facade, the fallen, the lothario (previously), the pariah, the phoenix, the puppeteer (previously), the sybarite, etc.

height: 6′4″ ... bruv.

hometown: stratford, connecticut

sexuality: bisexual uwu?

stats

inspired by: i feel like i did ... have an inspiration for him but i don’t ... remember ... so ur not getting this one ... i might edit this later if smth pops into my head but. alas.

biography.

born to connecticut senator vaughn romanov and well known philanthropist adelaide romanov, they were born into a life of privilege in a very prominent new england family. they’re the eldest of five in a very nuclear, picture perfect, preppy chic family.

was brought up to be a class a, outstanding, perfect citizen. golden child to the all american family (willfully ignoring the fact that his father came from russian immigrants). cain listened, obeyed, never strayed outside the lines.

it was always intended for cain to take on after their father, to follow in his footsteps and become a politician too. there were several expectations for them, including joining model un, debate, deca, splitting time between soccer, track, basketball, lacrosse, becoming class president, and all while maintaining a valedictorian - worthy gpa.

even volunteered on the weekends at homeless shelters and food banks, proving to everybody in their community just how much of a gem they were, darling, perfect member of society.

always eager as a child, eager for approval, eager to impress and wow and dazzle authorities and adults alike - cain never really had a problem with any of it? always attended church on sundays and sometimes even wednesdays. participated in family dinners and christmas photoshoots and new years eve parties, easter egg hunts and family reunions.

born and raised in stratford, super close to lovell to the point where it’d always been expected that the romanov children would simply just go to radcliffe, as did their parents. their home in stratford is a big, fancy, seven bedroom eight bath house with two fireplaces and an expansive dining room. no pool, but a sturdy treehouse made by scratch.

however. their model citizen persona was just that, a persona - a charade. in the community and to his family, cain was a hardworking citizen who upheld standards, a leader. to classmates and peers, from elementary to college - cain was the devil themself.

arrogant, harrowing, an outright bully who tore down others when they felt like it, often unprovoked. they were the senator’s son, and a rich one at that - rules never applying because they simply never existed for them, the upmost privilege because of who their family happened to be and their place in society. tattlers of their behavior faced far more consequence than cain ever did, or would.

the sort of person who’d genuinely look down at someone if they had less than them - a narcissistic dickhead who cared about two or three people, tops, outside of their family. was never physically violent, nor did they raise their voice, but that’s what made them all the worse. made them all the scarier. spewed classist bullshit with ease and was addicted to the power high it gave them.

their only redeeming quality was their protectiveness over their family - never the best person, but family is family, and they thought it ought’d to be protected.

went into political science and business to please their father, mainly, every step they made - every path cain went down, every choice from the electives they took in high school to the brand of shoes they wore, was to build them into the ideal presidential candidate.

probably joined a frat though cain never participated in parties too often, known for keeping their composure even when others resorted to violence, or got too drunk, or caused any public commotion, because they didn’t like to leave a bad image for the press. did their drugs in private but left nothing to the imagination, publicly.

but alas. during college, two very important series of events occurred.

seeking thrills, searching for fun in all the wrong places - cain became a middle-man between dealers and producers. never dealt it, and never produced it, but simply transported it between one another; the less everybody knew about each other the better. it was always a very hushed operation. one that they could’ve profited much off of, though money was never the motive for them.

and then he met earl and may meyers, fellow volunteers at a thanksgiving food drive; an older couple immediately drawn to cain, reasonable considering just who their father was, and cain to them. they can’t tell you what about the couple was so appealing - the air around them was something else entirely; some called it unhinged, others would call it comforting. but they were kind folks, down to earth - very religious, and very warmhearted. liked his name, a lot - like in the bible, they’d say, and laugh, and pat his arm. they would say, on occasion, that they reminded them of their late son.

it’d happened towards the end of their junior year, a few years after they’d gotten involved in the drug business - and the meyers were volunteering more and more, always at the same places as cain. the same times, too, as if they were learning his schedule. in retrospect - it was odd, but cain’d never suspected a thing. they kept talking, and it became a genuine friendship - a secured vote in the next election.

it only took a few months into this that they’d begun to talk about religion more. the sin of wealth, and god choosing only a select few when he cleanses the earth. only the worthiest souls. they’d eventually get into the rhythm of telling cain they were special - that they could see they’d be selected, see it in their aura, in their dreams, god sending them messages, etc. most would find it to be absolutely ... bonkers.

but it was oddly appealing to cain - like, maybe i am being constrained by capitalism. maybe i am disappointing god - aren’t i a devoted follower? it felt nearly ridiculous, but it seeped into their mind. psychological manipulation, lasting over months and cain unsuspecting. as if they could ever be the one manipulated. but the meyers could ask cain to jump, and they’d simply say - how high?

soon enough, earl and may told them that they were moving. that there’d been so many more like them and that it was time to join them, time to prepare - to get ready for the rapture. cain held off at first, finishing up their first term of their senior year and their life planned right before their eyes. everything they’d ever worked for. their loyal companions and close-knit family, their side-business that’d only gotten stronger - a long-term girlfriend and the engagement ring that burnt in their pocket, made their heart beat twice as fast at the very thought. still the same as before, cruel without a cause, but still surrounded by those who loved them - who could find something in them to love.

but a month into their senior year, cain had a sudden change of heart. they were ready, now, if not now then never later. all because of a third event. a surprise. a shock. a betrayal.

they had discovered that they were not their father’s child - not at all, not even by an inch. they were someone else’s, completely. their mother had broken down and cracked, after a particularly straining christmas party. the discussion was long, and the heartbreak only grew. the anger only grew. the hurt - it grew. more and more, with each pitiful sob their mother gave them. it was a mistake - a one night stand in a fit of petty anger in the very early stages of their marriage. and only cain knew - like they had to carry this weight, now, that they never asked to have.

it was the kind of information that broke a person. cain idolized their parents, done everything they’d ever asked - ever expected, and beyond, let them mold them like putty into whatever form they wanted. only to find out that in the end, it didn’t matter. it never mattered, if cain wasn’t the blood child of vaughn. if their mother - a woman who hadn’t a bad bone in her body, was nothing but a cheat and a liar.

cain unraveled.

they spent the first week getting into an altercation with near anybody who looked at them wrong. physical, usually - though arguments arose frequently as well. with no explanation, only thrown fists - often drunk, or high, or sober too - it never mattered. they spent a night in county jail, it’d gotten so bad. it seemed to have no end.

right until new years, just after midnight, when cain had disappeared without a word. it was treated like a missing persons case, though there was no evidence of foul play or kidnapping, and not much could be done about it.

BEGINNING OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS

the only people who knew of cain’s whereabouts were the meyers - because they had left together. a last minute decision that, if they had only waited a simple minute longer, would’ve never happened. a mistake they desperately wished they could take back. a mistake that led to another event - maybe the most important one of them all.

they’d gone only hours away from stratford, and lovell, the border between new york and connecticut and not as far as cain had initially thought, but deep, deep into the woods. that was where the cult’d been. they wore white linens and cotton, but never mixed. technology banned, prayers and daily chores. it was natural, at first. for the first three months, that was.

it could’ve been grand. it was peaceful, and mind-clearing, and they treated cain as if their birth was a sign from the angels. cain come to undo his past. a potential leader. but the longer they stayed, the more apparent it became that they weren’t all that the cult had wanted, so desperately, to believe. once they began to slip up, once members became displeased - that’s when the punishments began to occur.

sometimes once a week, but sometimes - and, later, much more so, multiple. the memories are suppressed, for the most part - but there are some things they simply can’t - the hands, they can’t forget. pulling, and tugging, and gripping - begging, asking him to repent, please, repent. their head held underwater, counting seconds until their vision’d eventually darken and go out, only to be pulled out gasping and sobbing. these memories stay - these memories repeat themselves, like a record stuck on repeat, days blurring into one another.

when they tried to fight back - they were subdued. heroin was the first step. little by little, everyday - enough to leave them in a high they wouldn’t remember; enough to burn a hole in their memory. and with these dimming memories, cain’d begin to sneak paper and pencil into their living arrangement, their room, writing everyday. wrote as much as they could remember from home - about their family, their life before it all - the people they loved. they couldn’t remember what they’d written, some days.

and when those notes were found, bound by thread taken from their own clothing to form a shabby book - that’d been the final straw. dragged, kicking and screaming - mind-numbingly high, into place. the twisted reenactment, retelling of cain’s demise. how exactly he’d gotten his scar. it would’ve been near perfect, if they had only stayed still and let them brand the mark into his forehead. but instead - they settled, eventually, for the chest. then - the left cain to die in the middle of the woods. in the middle of nowhere. no trails or campsites to follow, nothing at all. nothing but trees. nothing but his notes and the clothes on their back. they hadn’t even known what day it was - almost forgotten the year, too.

cain should’ve died there, but cain got up. and they ran. and ran. and ran. until they hit something, eventually. a road. it’d been pure luck that they’d found a car near immediately afterwards, whose driver wasn’t doubling as a murderer, who took them to the hospital - and who gave cain that chance to live. they were found on new years, a full cycle - a full year in the cult that’d changed their life.

END OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. STILL MENTIONS OF TRAUMA / MENTAL HEALTH / RECOVERY / ADDICTION BEYOND THIS POINT.

after being reunited with their family in the hospital - everything went by very fast. they couldn’t recognize their youngest sibling, but they also couldn’t remember why they’d left in the first place. couldn’t remember the name of their girlfriend, but the color of her hair and the way she smelled. they couldn’t give answers to their actions.

and after being put into therapy and recovery for their addiction - that’s when they find out that their father’s a presidential candidate, that they had been - that they used cain’s disappearance as a story for the press, one to garner votes. their return is national news, and their public opinion skyrockets. it’s supposed to be glorious, and a miracle, a blessing - but cain feels restrained. confined to the role they’d always been expected to play - expected to get up and continue with their life, as if nothing had happened.

but nothing didn’t happen - everything happened, and cain’s different now, vastly so - no longer who they thought they were. they change their major to literature, abandon politics. they get some cats, start working at the library, and they put on some leather gloves - their method of staying away, of keeping a comfortable distance. they are different, now, and simply only wish to focus on their recovery.

personality.

they’re no longer who they once were. a year of trauma does things to a person - and with memory loss that weighs heavy on their mind, they are near completely different. they remember parts of their old personality, their old lifestyle - enough to know they want to be better. they’re convinced that it’s karma, what happened to them. for being who they were - acting the way they did. just ... a bunch of self-blame.

even with the massive ego, cain’s always been a quiet person. but now - now cain’s even quieter. kinder, if not a little sarcastic, like a relic from the past. they’re distant - but it’s one of fear, restrictive and tense - not one made out of their own comfort.

smokes medical marijuana but rarely drinks ... as if that’d make a difference. in an effort to beat their heroin addiction, they’ve turned to prescriptions instead.

like i mentioned ... cain has four cats. it’s basically their entire personality. two of them were from before their disappearance, but two are new to their little (school-approved) family. there is: frank (big chungus when yelled. white and gray), brock (orange. fluffy. stoic. devours food), shoelace (black furred, missing an eye and half an ear), and crunchwrap supreme (crunch for short. calico with bent ears). yes, they have photos of their cats in their wallet.

cain’s memory is fucked - like, really fucked. they forget a lot of things. short term, long term. it’s a constant struggle. they managed to keep their notes from the cult, so those help - but not always. they forget dates and names and faces and events. sometimes they wake up and don’t know where they are. they don’t sleep often, anyways. with the trauma came night terrors, and in an attempt to avoid them they don’t ... sleep often. only a few hours a night if they can withstand it, because it’s frankly terrible.

they suffer from severe touch aversion. skin contact with anybody, of any sort, is enough to send cain into a full-blown panic attack. they were leather gloves more often than not in an attempt to combat this disadvantage, without hindering their dexterity too much. even with clothes, they’re not the biggest fan of physical contact. it won’t send him into a panic attack, but they visibly flinch away. they’re very clear from the get-go, if someone is too close to them, that they don’t like physical contact.

dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week. their therapist recommended that they keep writing their notes, after reviewing them himself, so cain does. they keep an entire journal where they write, and sketch a little, because it helps them cope and de-stress. it means a lot to them, actually.

also dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week - therapist recommended he kept writing after looking at his notes - so he does, keeps an entire journal where they write and like … sketch a little, because it helps them cope. means more to them than it would seem. but, unfortunately, part of their coping involves getting far too involved in their own mini-investigation of the cult they’d been part of. when the cult was tracked back to where cain’d been brought, they were already gone - and cain wants to know where. wants to know how to find them. wants justice, vengeance. wants nobody else to get hurt from them.

pretty blunt ... won’t go out of their way to announce that hey, they were part of a cult, and that’s why they’re gone and that’s why that’s the way they are now - but they also won’t lie about it, if the topic comes up in conversation. they don’t like delusions, don’t like secrets, nor do they like unnecessary attention.

being at radcliffe makes cain anxious because - well, they’re surrounded by people they’ve been doing wrong by for years now and they can’t even remember which ones. who, what, when, why - distant memories, if they’re even there at all. is constantly trying to figure out how to redeem themselves. they’d leave, if it hadn’t been their parents’ assistance that they stay there. so that someone always has an eye on them.

but like ...they screwed over a lot of people when they left. from plugs / customers to their ex-girlfriend, who they are, undeniably, still in love with (you can’t forget that feeling) - to their friends. like. everybody, pretty much KBJNSDFKSNLD

is often pretty high ... i’d say it’s just the medical weed but. alas :/ take a guess :/

hates cars & swimming & crowds. hates feeling trapped and will avoid it whenever possible. doesn’t want to be seen as unsociable, but it’s difficult.

they ... have a tendency to run away when they’re overwhelmed. likes to climb trees because they’re tall enough to. there’s a tree outside of their window that they climb out to frequently, even though it’s like a ~safety hazard~ or whatever. just really likes to hide out.

used to be in perkins when they last attended radcliffe, but they gave their spot to someone else and that was like - 100% fine w/ cain tbh. lives alone in moris now.

feels the need to redeem themself ... to like, everybody. like, they want to avoid conflict and be a better person, but it’s hard, and they don’t necessarily like confrontation either - and not everybody believes that cain’s changed. it wouldn’t be surprising if people were suspicious of cain, for whatever reason, because they don’t ... really have the best track record anymore.

developed a stutter as one of the results from their trauma. their voice is damaged from screaming and they’re self-conscious about it, but they’re working on it because there’s more important things to worry about. in general, cain looks ... gaunt, too thin, and generally sickly.

repeating senior year ... fr obvious reasons ... and probably won’t graduate anytime soon because they’ve changed their major so late.

can still hold a conversation & they’re not really afraid of socialization. it just takes a toll on them. they’re pretty lowkey, as a person. soft, sorta. quiet but they won’t be an asshole (on purpose). they like people! just. very low energy.

so like ... tldr ... not an asshole anymore ... dealing with a lot of trauma ... trying to be a good person ... yes ...

wanted connections.

locals... people they’ve grown up with their entire life. people they’ve wronged, people who idolized him, envied him, despised him, etc.

enemies... would love for a bunch of these just. a hoard of people who fucking hate cain. because it fits the bill. they could’ve bullied them, or wronged them, whatever. anything works. let’s make it happen.

exes... that they’ve dumped... old hookups, ex-friends, people they got into an argument with or fought before they disappeared last year...

ex girlfriend... that connection wld b rly neat!! i have it up as a wc rn but we can take that down ... will be holding intense american idol - esque auditions. remember that cain ws a fckn classist pig and probably only dated people who were also rich with influential families. (unless u present a very good case to me ... then maybe ... perhaps ...)

family friends... family rivals... people he knows mostly thru their family.

redeemable... people they’re trying to redeem themself to... trying to prove their worth, and that they’re a better person now, etc. etc.

old clients... :) angry clients. that they left in the dust.

perkins... people he knew from perkins ... old pals or maybe enemies idk he was pretty insufferable ... people he used to go to fancy parties with sometimes ...

angery... people so so so so fucking pissed at cain, for whatever reason.

reconciliation... reconnecting... used to be friends and we can be friends again :) and i will be better this time! i’m a slut for slowburns, especially slowburn friendships ... enemies to friends ... now THAT is sexy.

victims... of bullying ... :/ of their bullying specifically.

sof...t... wholesome content ... nothing but soft, understanding friendships ... or developing friendships ... make them feel welcomed again... forgive them...

an..g.st... friends to enemies. enemies to bigger enemies. miscommunication. betrayal. whatever u want.

no hookups!!! ... please only previous encounters. nothing in the present. because it just wldn’t make sense.

unless... eyes emoji. H DSJLFJKS just kidding! i’d accept MAYBE some kind of sexual tension but like ... the sort that hurts, because it just Cannot Happen (i will not let it happen). or maybe a fun, casual sexting thing but like. nothing physical. pleasthe.

fuck politics!... mayhaps, they hate mr. romanov and his politics or smth. he’s probably corrupt in some way, so! go at it!

aggression... i feel like a lot of the conversations between cain n other ppl start out rly ... angry bc theyre Mad. at them.

ok it’s bed time please plot with me.

#radintro #cult tw #heroin tw #drug abuse tw #addiction tw #trauma tw #ptsd tw #anxiety tw #manipulation tw #abuse tw #i think thts all ...

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tysonrunningfox · 5 years ago

Text

Open Flames: Chapter 20

Also known as...the epilogue

Ao3

If I asked Fuse what her favorite part of our honeymonth was, I’d guess it was when I told my mom to ‘go away’ a little less than charitably because she thought she could interrupt our second day of wedded bliss to ask some question about some random thing that Acting Chief Hiccup could obviously handle. If Fuse asked me the same question, I’d probably say what happened immediately after I told my mom to ‘go away’, because that was a memorable way to accidentally knock the weapons rack off of the wall and then realize no one could yell at us because it is our wall.

If this hypothetical conversation happened in the first few days after the wedding, in that wave of the novelty of true, uninterruptible privacy that momentarily made Fuse do her best and mostly succeed to forget that she was pretty miserably pregnant, my answer would have garnered an enthusiastic response. Any other time in the last month she probably would have rolled her eyes and asked me to rub her feet.

Which I would have done. Happily. Without question.

As always, I’d do anything to make Fuse safer or better.

But this morning, when she assured me that burning Snoggletog breakfast didn’t make her sick while her hands curled into white-knuckled balls of pain at her side, there was nothing I could do. She told me to get the midwife with the same even voice she uses to guide shaky hands into building bombs, and I did it, moving mechanically like she always wants me to around explosives.

All day, for the first time, I haven’t been able to stop what’s hurting her. My axe hanging useless on the crooked weapons rack, fists clenched against the urge to try and take control of the uncontrollable.

“Does he need to wait outside?” The midwife asks, yanking me out of my panic, and Fuse – Fuse, who I put into this situation – has the gall to look worried about me for a mortifying second. “If he forgot how to move, I can get Arvid to drag him out by his toes.”

Not a good look for a Chief. Or a man.

Or a dad.

“Fuck,” I swear at the situation. At the house. At myself. At the obligation to compose my face, to be a Chief, to be there for Fuse even when I want to apologize over and over every time I see the contents of one of those medical buckets. “I’m good. I’m good.”

And then Fuse is breaking my hand and the midwife is encouraging her and then silence. The worst thing I’ve ever heard.

It stretches. Seconds. Years. Eons.

My useless axe couldn’t cut the tension.

My knees shake.

Then there’s a cry.

A baby’s cry.

A shrill, instantly recognizable cry that makes me want to get that axe and face outwards from the doorway, but I can’t, because the baby is wrapped in a blanket and shoved hastily in my arms while the midwife works.

“It’s a girl,” she says, offhand, like it’s not the most important thing she’ll ever say.

And the silence in my head is the loudest, longest, beat of my life, looking down at that red little face.

The baby’s furious. Beyond pissed.

I get it.

Hel, I just spent a month with nothing but Fuse and after being forced into the world I feel like sobbing. And I have distractions.

There’s something Fuse-like in the twist of the little girl’s anger. Something righteous and unhinged and the weight of my two Fuse’s slams into my chest like a battering ram.

I don’t remember sagging down against the wall, bundle in my arms. I don’t remember crying. I just know I have to wipe tears from my eyes when I hear the second cry, this one higher pitched as a wriggling, arching little thing is wrapped in another blanket.

“Another girl,” the midwife says, holding the screaming bundle in my direction.

“You mean,” I jump upright as carefully as I can, still supporting myself on the wall, scared to take even a hand off of the bundle in my arms, “both? I—”

“You’re going to have to get used to having your hands full,” she adjusts my arms with brusque, bloody hands and sets the second baby in them.

In theory, she pats my shoulder in a matronly way. I theoretically feel it and nod like her words made some kind of sense. In practice, I float, lost in two tiny, indignant faces I almost recognize.

Here they are.

After all that, here they are.

“Hand me the older one,” the midwife prompts and I reflexively shake my head, holding both bundles closer to my chest. Her eyes are irritated but kind as she raises an eyebrow, “she needs to eat. Unless you were intending to feed her.”

“I’ll feed her,” I insist mindlessly. “How—I mean, how do I feed her?”

“By handing her to your wife, Chief.” The midwife says the title like a mild admonishment, and I flush.

“Right. I knew that. I know that.” I reluctantly allow her to take the older twin, clutching the younger one to my chest as I appear by the bed, my feet insubstantial against the floor as I allow myself to take in the scene.

Fuse. Obviously exhausted, pink hair stuck to her face, head back against a pile of pillows. A baby in her arms, expression placid and overwhelmed as she listens to the midwife and tries to position the squirming bundle against her chest.

I clear my throat. She glances at me and there’s all that understanding, all that coping, all that resilience that’s always left behind after the blast. It’s all familiar, all such a relief that I can barely breathe as I sit on the edge of the bed before my quaking knees dump me on my ass.

The older twin goes to sleep after she eats, a squishy little bundle with red-brown hair tucked under Fuse’s arm as I reluctantly hand over the younger girl, her hair just starting to show blonde where it’s brushed clean on the blanket. I was hoping for pink, but she has Fuse’s nose and I don’t remember the last time I was this lost for words.

Probably when I was our babies’ age and didn’t know any words.

Gods, they don’t know any words. I have to teach them everything and keep them safe and I cradle my head in my hands, trying not to dwell on how easy it’s going to be to mess up.

“I’m going to let you two get settled while I go tell your families,” the midwife starts picking up her supplies and I sit upright.

“You’re leaving?” I fumble for the words, “does that—what if—it’s over?” I look at Fuse, all three of my Fuses, impossibly safe and tired and terrifying, because of how much they need me. Because all that’s left in me is how much I need them.

“Unless you think there’s a third.” The midwife raises that eyebrow at me, and I get the feeling she’s thinking about moving to some other island with a chief who makes sense. “I’ll be back.”

“You’re alright.” I let myself say it once the heavy front door is shut and we’re alone, let the relief bleed around it, let my hand shake now that I can’t drop anything.

“That’s one word for it,” Fuse mutters under her breath, but my expression makes her pause and she sighs, shifting a bit uncomfortably, “I will be. Just…a long day.”

“Why?” I snort even though I don’t think it’s explicitly a joke, scooting a little closer and barely biting back a sigh of relief when she lifts her head for me to slip my arm behind it, like she doesn’t hate me even after what I just put her through. “Been busy?”

“A little bit.” She glares at me, eyes blue fire, and that’s the same too, like I really managed not to lose any of her in the multiplication.

“I’ll trade you for the next one,” I glance between the two babies, still more than a little in awe of how persistently they’re existing here, “I can do the hard part while you freak out and the midwife makes fun of you.”

“Next one?” She huffs, intact eyebrow raised.

“I was operating under the impression that the grumpiness was supposed to end when you weren’t pregnant anymore,” I joke, kissing her forehead, happy pang in my stomach when that little blonde head nestles against my chest.

“To be fair, I said I’d be grumpy as long as I couldn’t see my toes,” she leans back against my arm a little harder, circles under her eyes prominent as the other baby fusses, less furious than before, little hand fisting in the blanket.

I glance at Fuse’s foot peeking out from the blankets and laugh, “and you haven’t looked yet?”

“I don’t intend to.” She almost laughs, breathy and exhausted as she leans a little harder into my side. The older twin fusses again, bordering on a cry. “Can you take her?” She asks, a little unsure of herself, holding the little blonde bundle like some rare and exciting mineral she hasn’t worked with before, but believes will combust especially impressively.

“Sure. Yeah.” I nod, apologizing at least a dozen times under my breath throughout the clumsy shuffle as Fuse adjusts the blankets and picks up the older baby, steady hand gentle against the back of her neck.

My hands feel too big, too rough, ill-equipped and shaky as my thumb brushes a blonde curl away from a tiny furrowed eyebrow. Fuse’s eyebrow as if it had never been burned, focused on something no one else can see.

“Gods, she looks like you,” Fuse mumbles, looking down at the older twin in her arms, temple on my chest.

“Are you kidding me?” I kiss the top of her head, “did you hear her screaming? All you.”

“This is your morning face,” she insists, “exactly.”

I look down at the babies, the older one’s grumpy face and the younger one’s blonde curls, seeing Fuse in every twitch of tiny fingers.

“We have to name them,” I say a bit slowly, awkwardly, trying not to show how nervous I’ve been for this part. It’s obvious that Fuse picks up on it anyway because she kisses my shirt and sighs, settling in for a conversation she’s obviously too tired to want to have. “I can’t keep referring to them as ‘older’ and ‘younger’ in my head.”

“One and two?” She offers and I shake my head.

“Of course, when I have my first opportunity to mess a kid up for life, I double down.” I can’t imagine shoving some of my own generational baggage down onto either of the nameless girls’ beautiful, wrinkled faces. I’m not going to lie, I feel like I’ve gotten off the hook a little bit because Eret IV, Hiccup IV, and Stoick III are all out of the running just due to gender.

“Sounds like you,” Fuse wakes up enough to mull the problem over properly, “they don’t look like Nuts to me.”

“Do twins names have to go together? Like a set?” I love how our house feels like an extension of my mind, like anything I think, I can say out loud and it’ll find purchase, not judgement. “Thunder and Drum. Or rhyme? Inga and Helga.” Nothing sounds right, and Fuse agrees from the way she shifts, silence heavy, shoulder digging into my ribs. “Purchase,” I gesture to the baby in her arms, “and Free Gift The Merchant Threw In For A Loyal Customer.”

“That’s a little wordy.”

“Maybe we should work off your name?” I don’t bring up mine and she doesn’t either and I love her so much I don’t know where to put it all. I’m glad for the girls to collect the love that feels like it’s spilling over. “Fuse, Grenade, and Aftershock. Casing and Powder. Blast and Shrapnel.”

She snorts half a tired laugh before sitting up a little straighter, “wait, Shrapnel.”

“I was kidding.”

“I’m not,” she tickles a chubby foot that has escaped the blanket bundle on my lap, “she is the second wave of destruction after the explosion.”

“Fuse and Shrapnel.” I mull it over and nod, “I like it. Halfway done.”

“The easy half,” she bounces the little girl in her arms.

“Just because Shrapnel is a side effect of an explosion doesn’t mean she’s not destructive,” I chide gently, that heavy bond in my chest deepening when I look at the baby on my lap and tie a name to her.

“No, I—whatever we choose has to sound good with Chief in front of it.”

“Oh.” I swallow, “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“The future Chief of Berk,” Fuse says quietly, messing with chubby fingers until the baby girl’s face furrows.

I want to deflect. To say something stupid about how Shrapnel could stage a coup at any time. I want to tell Fuse that she doesn’t have to worry about that now, just how I want to tell her that she doesn’t have to worry about the mantle of Chief’s wife.

But she’s right. And as much as I hate needing it, especially now, her support makes the hazy future feel possible.

How much can I really mess up this dad thing if Fuse is helping me?

“So, it’s got to be easy to pronounce,” I swallow hard, “you know how Christians have problems with Viking names.”

“And it has to be strong. If she looks like you this much already, of course she’s going to be strong.”

I don’t see any of my scrawny, freckled mess in the baby’s perfect little face, but it’s not the time to argue.

“I hope she’s smarter than me,” I rest my cheek on Fuse’s head, “a little quicker on the uptake, maybe. Some of your common sense couldn’t hurt.”

“So, something with some strength, some wisdom.” A smile leaks into her voice, the kind of sly smile that usually only follows billowing smoke and destruction, “something that looks good in an Edda claiming victory over an enemy.”

“There are a few Sigrids in my family tree,” I offer, “victorious, wise, easy for Christians to pronounce as they run away screaming.”

“Sigrid Haddock, Heir to the throne of Berk,” Fuse whispers like she’s scared to say it louder, like I’m not the only one who feels like I’m going to wake up to some other, worse reality. “How do we make it official?”

“I think I just tell Rolf to write it down,” I kiss her ear, the top of her head, trying to communicate how amazing she is and knowing I’ll never quite get there, “one of the perks of being Chief.”

Fuse hums in agreement, half asleep, and I’m settling in for a shift as her dedicated pillow when the front door swings open and the midwife steps inside, asking how Fuse is doing and leading a small group of people along with her.

Tuffnut is first, holding a stuffed Zippleback toy half his size with a white knuckled grip and a worried expression that I recognize as similar to my own before I realized that Fuse was ok. My mom is white faced but excited, eyes widening when she sees the baby on my lap. My dad is with her, also searching for the babies, counting really, like he also doesn’t trust the good news until he catalogs everyone.

Hiccup trails behind a little bit, as unsure if he’s invited as his name is in my head, and I kiss the top of Fuse’s head as I wiggle my arm out from behind her, standing slowly, carefully, Shrapnel’s tiny body more precious and fragile than anything I’ve ever held.

“Can you shut the door?” I ask when the Snoggletog wind whips through the room, trying not to panic when the gust of cold makes Shrapnel’s face screw up as she lets out a single, indignant cry. “It’s ok,” I bounce her like I’ve seen Rolf do, but it doesn’t seem to cheer her up any, “your grandpa is shutting the door.”

“On it,” he says too quickly, and if I weren’t so busy trying to prevent my baby from crying, I’d comment on how Hiccup sounds like he’s about to join in.

“Two healthy baby girls,” the midwife assures as the door clicks shut and my dad tosses a log on the fire without me having to ask, “one healthy mom.”

Mom.

Fuse is a mom.

It’s the first time I’ve heard it and I look up at her, again searching for some sort of change, something that’s getting away from me. But she’s still Fuse, thanking her dad for the Zippleback and rolling her eyes when he ruffles her hair.

“One overwhelmed new dad,” Hiccup jokes and I nod, willingly admitting to that much.

Dad.

I’m a dad. It’s different when people say it out loud.

“Do you want to hold her?” I ask, glancing at Fuse to double check that it’s ok, but she’s already handed off Sigrid to her dad, who’s cooing enthusiastically over her and saying something about the chaos she’ll cause.

“Y—Absolutely,” Hiccup nods and I carefully rest my daughter—I have a daughter. I have two daughters—in his arms.

“Hold her head.”

“Of course,” he says, humoring me, even as Mom steps up beside him and gives me a fond, exasperated smile.

“He has held a baby before.”

“You haven’t been a dad before,” he tells her gently, voice low as he rocks Shrapnel, “he’s got to be protective, he can’t help it.”

“She’s beautiful.” When Mom looks between her husband and me, there’s a ghost of that old ‘what if’ I used to hate on his face, but now it just makes me think about what it would have felt like not to be able to hold my baby the second they came into the world. “Older or younger?”

“Younger,” I nod, “by all of a few minutes, so I don’t know how much it matters but…”

“It’ll matter to them,” my dad points out, very carefully taking Sigrid from Tuffnut and smiling at her.

“Ruffnut never forgave me for beating her on the way out,” Tuffnut shakes his head, “you’ve got a long life of guilt trips ahead of you, little miss.” He frowns, “assuming this one is the girl twin.”

“They’re both girls,” I correct him, risking the few steps of distance from my parents to stand next to Fuse, hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah, but which one’s the boy?” He asks and Fuse sighs, exhausted.

“Dad, there’s no boy.”

“But they’re twins.” Tuffnut looks around the room confused and for the first time today, the midwife is looking at someone other than me like they’re the dumbest person on Midgard.

“Twins who are both girls,” Hiccup cradles the head, like I asked, as he hands Shrapnel carefully to my mom.

“Yeah, but which one’s the boy?”

“Neither,” I say, the room feeling a little smaller than it did a few minutes ago. A little more cramped. “Because they’re both girls.”

“No, really,” he laughs, “which one’s the boy?”

I look down at Fuse, her pale face barely sustaining her irritated expression, and sometimes, the Chief mantle isn’t as heavy as I feared it would be.

“Ok, everybody out,” I clap my hands together before reaching out towards my dad, “baby please.”

“I’m just asking—”

“Tuffnut,” I nudge my chin towards the door as I accept Sigrid, “get out of my house.”

“Mom needs her rest,” the midwife is finally my ally, helping me herd the extra family towards the door.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” My mom asks, hesitant to hand Shrapnel over.

“I’m good,” I insist, feeling overwhelmed but symmetrical when she sets the baby in my free arm.

“Come on,” Hiccup takes her hand and tugs, and I don’t know what to do with how easy it is for him to be on my side right now, but I’m glad for it, “let’s get back to the feast, I have a lot to brag about.”

“If you’re sure—”

“He’s sure,” Dad helps move her towards the door and then we’re alone again. The four of us.

My family within the family.

Fuse yawns, scooting down in bed a bit with a wince that makes my chest hurt.

“Get some rest,” I look down at the babies in my arms, both of their eyes closed, their barely there weight soothing. “I’ve got this for a while.”

“You could put them down and come rest with me,” she offers, already comfortable in the center of the bed and I smile.

“Maybe later,” I shrug, barely, my always moving hands finally forced still like Fuse is always trying to do. “I’ve got a lot to tell these girls, might as well get started.”

“They need to sleep too,” she says like she feels like she has to, but she’s looking at me with a soft, hazy expression I can’t possibly deserve before she yawns again.

“I’m not stopping them.” I adjust my grip and Sigrid’s little hand escapes the blanket, fingers curling reflexively against my shirt. “They like my voice, remember?”

“I love you,” she says, quiet and sleepy, tugging the blankets further around her shoulders.

“Love you too.” I’m not sure if she hears me, because her light snores start almost immediately, chest rising and falling evenly under the covers.

I walk to the small front window, mostly to check on the snow, but the torchlight in the village catches my eye. My village.

I look down at my daughters. Our village.

“This is Berk,” I whisper, swallowing hard and watching the fluffy snow drift towards the ground, casting shadows across my babies’ faces when it passes in front of the moon. “Our home for eight—well, nine generations. It snows so much that the only way you can really tell that it’s winter is when you haven’t seen the sun for the better part of a month. The food is…mostly mutton, I’m not going to lie to you. Lots of mutton now that we have fewer dragons than ever, but that’s alright, the ones sticking around are family.”

I’m unsure what to do with the feeling that this day, this conversation, this moment is the first of many, not part of a countdown, but I’m glad for the change.

#eret iii #festerverse #that's all folks #open flames #sigrid and shrapnel haddock #are my life

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