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fandom-collective-writers · 3 years

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Want (Wolf!Lucifer x Reader)

Fandom: Obey Me!

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Prompt: werewolf, full moon, heat scenario

Warning: Smut!!! - oral sex (female receiving), breeding, internal cumshot, biting, knotting

Intended Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 4,322

Requested by: anonymous

Written by: @lordsister/@lordsisterxotome (Click here to support me on ko-fi!<3)

Disclaimer: I do not own Obey Me or any of its characters. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not repost this on any other website.

Other notes: So I meant to get this out a long time ago and then I had a burnout from university work and couldn’t keep my eyes open long enough to write a full sentence, so here we go! Never written something like this before, but hoping it’s good!

You wouldn’t be able to outrun him for much longer, that was a fact.

Everything had started out so innocently, a simple mix-up on Luke’s part leading to yet another in a series of weird but amusing events at the House of Lamentation. Why the syrup turned the brothers into animals of all things, you didn’t know, but you didn’t think much of it when you found out it would pass eventually. Better to just enjoy the fact that your boyfriend had a pair of cute, fluffy wolf ears sticking out of his head, right?

Things had started to take a much heavier turn, however, when the moon rose, full and yellow and drawing out a hidden side effect of the syrup.

It was like everyone had just...disappeared. One moment you were joking around with them just like you normally did, laughing at the way Mammon kept teasing Levi over his giraffe horns, and the next moment they were all out the door and gone, claiming they had other things to do. Even Lucifer had somehow left without her notice, probably headed to his room to quietly work on his student council stuff.

You’d tried relaxing in your room, but something about it was still off to you, having spent enough time around the brothers to know when weird was particularly weird. After wandering aimlessly around the halls for a while and receiving no answer when you knocked on the brothers’ locked doors, you’d made your way to the kitchen to ponder over a late night cup of tea.

What happened there was what led you to your current situation, crawling through one of the tunnels beneath the House of Lamentation.

You had just been starting to unwind, accepting that whatever the demons you lived with were dealing with was probably something they could handle themselves, when Levi had burst in, out of breath and panicked. Rising to your feet, you had just enough time to squeak out his name before he grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the kitchen.

“Levi, what - what’s happening? What’s wrong?” you managed, stumbling as he dragged you down the hall.

“Lucifer’s gone into heat,” he answered, just as the sound of something smashing to pieces echoed from the second floor.

You heard the voices of the other brothers shouting, animal snarls, and growls, but you couldn’t dwell on it as Levi picked you up and hoisted you over his shoulder before launching into a full-on run. Over the uncomfortable feeling of Levi’s shoulder digging into your ribcage, you heard an outraged howl, and the first curls of fear began to form deep in your belly.

“I’ll rip your head off if you touch her!”

The sounds of the struggle disappeared as Levi threw open a door and descended a long, dark flight of stairs into the bowels of the House. Honestly, everything was happening so quickly you were having a hard time keeping up with it all.

“W-Where are we going?” The jolting made it hard to talk, and your fingers clutched at his sweater, desperate for a hold on the rapidly spiraling situation.

“There’s a tunnel, it leads to the woods,” he answered shortly, nearly missing a step and sending you both tumbling the rest of the way down in the dark. “You need to be through before Lucifer fights the others off.”

The end of the staircase emerged into a circular chamber, a black hole, barely large enough for one person to walk through standing, gaping at the other side of the room. You didn’t want to go through it, especially in the dark, but it seemed Levi wasn’t giving you an option.

He’d barely placed you on your feet before he was shoving you into that cold, black mouth, giving you a last, “Go!” before he was turning back towards the stairs.

Reaching out, you clutched at the back of his sweater before he could go any farther. “I-I don’t...I still don’t understand, Levi. He’s in heat?”

The third born frowned, running a hand through his frazzled purple hair. You hadn’t noticed before, but he was bleeding from his lip and a dark bruise was forming beneath his left eye. “It’s an effect of being turned into a wolf is my guess. A werewolf heat kinda thing?”

“So...what does that mean for me exactly?” You were getting frustrated now, confused and in need of answers before you fled through a tunnel in a basement in the middle of the night. “Why do I have to escape like this?”

Levi’s cheeks flushed bright red and he looked away, stuttering, “I-It means he wants to...y’know...do what animals do in heat...to you.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

That explained a part of it maybe, but you’d been through worse with Lucifer, would probably be through worse still with him. “I still don’t understand why I have to leave like this. Isn’t there any way I could help him?”

“He isn’t listening to anyone right now.” Through the dark, you could see Levi was starting to fidget, balling and unballing his fists and taking nervous glances back at the stairs. “I don’t even think Diavolo could talk any sense into him right now. He’s completely lost control and if he were to get his hands on you like this...it’s better you go.” A hard thud sounded from somewhere far above. “Now.”

Shoving you into the tunnel entrance once more, he rushed to say, “Listen, once you’re out, go to Purgatory Hall or Diavolo. Either one should be able to keep you safe while the rest of the syrup wears off.”

“But-”

“Go!”

And with that he was gone, flying back up the stairs to help his brothers with their heat-crazed sibling. You stayed there for a moment, hovering in the entrance and looking back and forth, but finally you decided to follow Levi’s instructions. If the brothers were fighting so hard to keep Lucifer from getting to you, then he truly must be in bad shape, mindless with the need to mate, and you knew that if you were ever to get hurt again, it would destroy him.

Moving as quickly as you could in the dark, you kept one hand on the damp stone of the tunnel wall, using it for stability and to make sure the passage didn’t split away into side tunnels or something. It felt like forever passed since you began walking, and panic started to rise in your throat, your heart thumping in your chest at the thought that you were lost down here in the dark. The walls started to press in, and you could barely breathe the moist air. All that kept you from turning back or sinking into a ball was the mantra you took to repeating under your breath, to just keep putting one foot in front of the other, don’t think about what was behind or ahead, but just about what was beneath your feet right now - which were still bare, by the way. You were only dressed in a sweatshirt and comfy sweatpants, ready for an evening of relaxing in bed rather than running down a dark tunnel away from your lust-crazed lover.

An uncomfortable heat prickled at the corners of your eyes as you continued down the tunnel, your hope of finding the exit dwindling with each heavy step. You should have reached it by now, right? Levi wouldn’t have sent you down here where you could get lost so easily.

Just as you were about to stop, you saw it - a shaft of light marking your freedom far ahead. Your relief was cut short, however, as a ghostly howl echoed from the tunnel behind you and your heart froze in your chest. You could barely breathe as you took off, sprinting towards that point of light.

Had Lucifer really made it past all of his brothers? It seemed impossible, but you didn’t know what overpowered state he was in right now. All that mattered was that he was following you, and you didn’t think it would take him long to catch up.

Another howl echoed behind you, closer, and you ran faster, legs burning. Slipping on the wet stone, you tumbled into the fresh air. You didn’t have time to enjoy being out of the dark and damp, barely managing to get your feet under you again before you were off again, this time headed in what you hoped was the direction of Purgatory Hall.

Your feet skidded on the frozen ground and dead leaves, bare tree branches arching over your head like fingers, caging you in. You wondered how long it would take to get to Purgatory Hall, if you could make it before Lucifer caught up, but a pained howl of your name behind you, clear in the night air, nearly made your legs give out beneath you. If it had only taken him that little time to get through the tunnel, there was no way you were going to make it to Purgatory Hall before he caught up. The best hope you had was probably finding a place to hide and hoping he didn’t find you.

Chancing a look back, you caught sight of him through the trees in the distance, thundering after you, his red eyes visibly glowing even from this far away. A squeak left your mouth on a gasp, and you darted to the side, hiding behind the trunk of the largest tree you could find.

You weren’t going to make it to Purgatory Hall, not at the speed he was chasing you, you couldn’t call on the other brothers, knowing he’d already gotten through them, and so your best option was to try to hide and wait this out, even though you knew he could probably smell you, probably hear your heart beating. Covering your mouth with both hands, you curled into a ball at the base of the tree, trying to calm your breathing as you listened for the sound of his footsteps.

Heart pounding against your ribcage, you heard him approach, racing closer and closer, inhumanly fast, and you hoped he would just run by, too lost in a lustful haze to realize your scent veered away from the course he was following. Unfortunately, such was not to be the case because he stopped abruptly, sending up a small shower of dirt and dead leaves. You could hear him panting and your heart ached as he whimpered and walked in a slow circle, trying to determine which way you had gone. Never had you heard anything so mournful in your entire life, most unexpectedly from the Avatar of Pride.

“(Y/n)!!” he whined gently, softly, but his voice still echoed off the trees, half-coaxing, half-ordering you to come out. You didn’t move, despite the strange heat pooling in the pit of your belly and your instincts screaming at you to go to him, to comfort your needing lover. Levi and the others had done so much to protect you, to warn you. Was it really okay to give in so quickly?

“(Y/n)!!!” Lucifer howled your name this time, his voice desperate and you bit your palm, trying to keep quiet as you jumped at the noise. Curling up tighter, you still refused to reveal yourself.

Then everything suddenly got quiet, really quiet. You couldn’t hear him panting, didn’t even hear him walk away, but there was no indication that he was still there either. Minutes passed and you stayed like that until you started to shiver and you couldn’t take it any longer. Slowly, you peered out from behind the tree, careful to be as quiet as possible. There was no sign of him, not a bit of movement as you scanned the clearing and the trees beyond. Nothing.

Sitting back against the tree trunk, you sighed, but movement out of the corner of your eye nearly made your heart stop. Your eyes met glowing red, your lycanthrope lover unnervingly still where he stood not three feet away from you on the other side of the tree. You stayed like that, staring at each other, until the need to breathe became too prominent and you took a shaky inhale.

“Luci,” you breathed his name, trying to keep him calm and gentle. His eyes glowed, but his usual composure and poise was gone, lost in the hazy depths of his heat. You didn’t even know if he was aware of what was going on right now.

A slow, joyful smile spread across his lips at the sound of his name on your lips and then he dove forward, tackling you as he wrapped himself around you. “Mate,” he purred into the side of your neck, kissing tenderly at the skin as he breathed in your scent, “I found you.”

Your arms hesitated around him, unsure, before returning his embrace. This was different than what you had expected. Based on what Levi had told you, you’d thought he would have had you naked by now. “L-Lucifer?” you stuttered, trying and failing not to lean into the protective warmth his overheated body offered. “Do you know what’s happening right now?”

Removing his face from your neck, he blinked slowly at you.

“Do you know what’s happened to you?” you tried again.

“There was Luke…” he breathed, returning his face to your neck and closing his eyes. His tail thumped wildly behind him, betraying his excitement and pleasure at having completed his game of chase. “And the syrup that turned us into animals…”

You nodded eagerly. “Do you remember what happened next?”

“Mmm, I suddenly felt so hot,” he groaned, his grip on you tightening. “It’s so so hot, (y/n). It’s unbearable and yet it feels so good.”

“But Luci, I - ah!” You squealed as he nipped at the sensitive skin just below your ear.

“I need you so bad,” he husked against the shell and you shivered as a hot tongue licked over it. “It hurts…!” The world spun as he rolled you over, finding yourself pinned on your back and the solid weight of your boyfriend pressing you down into the leaves and grass as he wedged himself between your legs. You could feel every inch of him now, holding you so close, like he was trying to meld your bodies into one. A hard rock of his hips against your clothed core made you cry out, a sudden rush of heat flaring within you and making you arch into him. He growled into your neck at the pressure against his erection as you bucked beneath him, mouthing at the skin and teasing it with his fangs.

“L-Lucifer, wait!” He groaned, displeased, but stopped, his wolf ears flipping back to lay flat against his head. “I...I don’t know about this. Levi-” He snarled at the other man’s name on your lips, making you freeze until he rubbed his cheek against your neck, appeased. “The others,” you tried again, careful not to mention any names that might set him off, “warned me that you might lose control in this state...that you might hurt me.”

He jerked back, wide red eyes staring at you like you’d just slapped him across the face. “Hurt my mate…” his voice dwindled, his ears drooping and his tail ceasing it’s insistent wag. You almost felt bad for saying it now, but you needed to draw a line, for both of your sakes.

His hand reached up and cradled her face with surprising tenderness, careful of his elongated, red claws. “I will never hurt you,” he said, his eyes clear of their lustful haze for a moment as he spoke. He uttered the words like a spell, a prayer if he was still an angel, an oath that made the tightness in your chest finally loosen. “Please,” he murmured, his low voice reverberating through your bones, “Let me have you. True, it might wear off soon, but I want...I want…!”

Tongue darting out to lick your lips, you reached up to run your fingers through the dark waves of his hair, feeling the soft velvet of his ears. A low rumble started deep in his chest, his eyes narrowing and hazing until he had fallen back into the lustful state he’d been in moments ago. You were more aware of the bulge pressed between your legs now, of the dampening in your own panties.

Leaning up, you felt his grip around you tighten as you whispered in his ear, “I’m all yours, Lucifer.” A roll of your hips up into his drew a long, desperate growl out of him. “Do with me as you will.”

There was a split second of utter stillness, not a move or sound, and then cool air met your skin as your clothes were torn away by sharp claws. You gasped, clinging to your boyfriend as he nipped and sucked ravenously at the side of your neck. He barely left you time to process, his lips moved so fast, the sting of a lovebite arriving long after his mouth had already traveled to the other side of your neck.

“My pretty, little mate,” he growled, licking at your collarbones, “all ready for me to fuck.” You shivered, mewling his name as his hands grasped your breasts, your bra already sliced away for his ease. “So perfect,” he sighed, drawing whines from you with each rough squeeze. A cry echoed against the trees as a hot mouth encased your nipple, sucking and rolling the hardened bud between sharp teeth. Your hands tried to find a hold in his hair, but were forced above your head with a hand around your wrists, leaving you to writhe and buck helplessly beneath his touch.

His moans warmed your skin as he let go of your breast with a noisy pop. “You taste so good,” he purred, a lust drunk smile curling at the corners of his lips. “I can’t get enough.” Trailing down your body, he paused at your stomach, making you shiver as he kissed affectionately at the soft flesh. The slow, meaningful caress of his hand against the spot just below your navel felt at odds with his hurried ministrations thus far, but was pleasant all the same, drawing a sigh from your lips as you relaxed into him.

Lucifer hummed approvingly, murmuring something you couldn’t hear against the flesh, but didn’t linger, continuing on to his real target before you could ask him what he’d said.

The cool air made you shiver as he spread your legs, hulking figure kneeling between them. His tail thumped against the ground behind him and his ears pricked in interest as he stared down at your wet core, a growl making you freeze when you tried to close your legs from his burning gaze. “Try and hide from me,” he rumbled, red eyes pinning you in place, “See what happens.”

He held your gaze as he lowered his face to your dripping pussy, making you forget how to breathe for a second as hot breath fanned against your clit. You moaned when his tongue licked a stripe up your slit, sucking the swollen bundle of nerves into his mouth.

“So wet already,” he groaned, tone laced with sin, and then, without warning, he seemed to lose whatever control he’d regained, his mouth descending on your core with an urgency and force that would have made you flinch away but for his hands on your hips, holding you immobilized and spread for his enjoyment. Lips, teeth, and tongue were merciless as he feasted on your arousal, sending hot pleasure coursing through you as you writhed and moaned in his grip. Your head spun as his tongue dove inside of you, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as you cried his name.

You sobbed, tears of pleasure blurring your vision as the fingers of one strong hand pawed over your thigh and hip bone, the tips of sharp claws grazing your clit and making your back arch as your walls fluttered around his plunging tongue.

You were so close, the edge of that sweet wave of pleasure teasing your body, and the next second it was ripped away, his mouth and fingers gone, and you cried out in agonized loss, scrambling for him as desperate tears finally fell. Your hands fisted in dead leaves and cold dirt instead of reaching Lucifer’s warmth, finding yourself on your knees with your front pressed into the ground. A thigh moved between your own, parting you to your lover’s liking as he loomed behind you.

“Lucifer,” you called softly, whimpering. His pheromones were definitely affecting you if they weren’t already. You felt so painfully empty without his cock stretching you, thick and hot and merciless. The thought alone was enough to make your walls clench pathetically around nothing, wiggling your ass against his still-clothed crotch.

“I know, my love,” he chuckled, reveling in the need radiating from you. You could feel him smirking savagely against your neck. “By the time I’m done, everyone will know what I’ve done to you, how I’ve claimed you.”

His warmth disappeared for a moment, the sound of tearing cloth indicating that his clothes had met the same fate as your own, and then bare skin met your own, too-hot against your oversensitive skin. A shiver wracked through you as his cock, swollen and pulsing, slapped against your dripping core, coating him in your juices as he slid through your folds. You didn’t have time to look back or think about whether you could take him like this, screaming as he thrust into you, hard and fast. He didn’t give you a moment to adjust before he started pounding. Lucifer was well-endowed as it was, but he felt even larger than usual, stretching you nearly to the point of it being too much. The position forced you to be aware of every inch plowing in and out of you, allowing him to hit against your cervix from the first thrust. The overwhelming, pain-tinged pleasure immediately rocketed you into your climax, leaving you spasming helplessly around him as you cried his name.

“Fuck!” he snarled behind you, hips stuttering as your walls clenched down on him. His claws dug into the soft flesh of your hips as he grunted, shoving harder into your tight, oversensitive core. You could feel your release dripping down your inner thighs, the lewd sound of Lucifer’s soaked cock thrusting in and out of you echoing off the trees, too loud even with the sound of his panting in your ear.

Blunt nails dug into the dirt as his mouth latched onto the patch of skin where your neck met your shoulder, drawing blood as he marked the spot. His hips moved animalistically, hammering into you without rhythm as he held you in place, his balls slapping against your clit. He answered your whimper with a deep purr as he wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer against him. His length barely left your velvet walls before finding home deep within the welcoming warmth of your core once more and it was driving you crazy, leaving you to writhe and moan as throbbing veins rubbed your g-spot with each hump.

Through the haze of lust clouding your mind, you could feel something swelling at the base of his cock, stretching your entrance every time he seated himself within you. “L-Luci,” you gasped, “What - What are you - hahh!” You screamed as he shoved in deep, the knot forming at the base of his cock stretching your entrance before leaving again, still not quite large enough to plug him inside of you.

“Going to breed you,” he snarled against your ear through clenched teeth, “Going to fill you with my children and get you nice and pregnant so they all know who you belong to.” Lucifer grunted in frustration, feral as his hand pressed into your lower back and made you arch even more. You screamed as the angle stretched you open for him and his monstrous cock, engorged with the need to fuck his babies into you.

“Tell me you want it,” he coaxed, his hands grabbing at any part of you he could use to pull you back harder onto him. “Tell me you want my cum, you want me to get you pregnant for everyone to see.”

“Yes!” you pleaded, glancing back at him. Every inch of him rippled with virility, with the need to pump you full of his seed. You needed it now, needed to give him exactly what he wanted. “Yes, Lucifer, please! Please, please, please give it to me!”

The sound that echoed from deep within his chest as he successfully pushed his knot inside of you was half howl, half roar, locking your bodies together as he reached his climax. The hot explosion of cum against your cervix threw you into a second orgasm, mewling and crying your lover’s name as he filled you to the brim.

He continued to hump against you for a few moments more, milking himself within your walls, before he slumped on top of you, panting against your shoulder. “(Y/n),” he murmured hoarsely, “Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah.” He shifted slightly, and you shivered at the tug of his knot within you, still swollen.

“I’m sorry. I can’t move for a little while,” he sighed, and you could hear in his tone that there was more to his apology, a plea for forgiveness for everything that had happened tonight.

You giggled softly, reaching a hand back to run it through his dark hair. The wolf ears were still there and they fluttered against your fingers. “I don’t regret this,” you murmured softly, meeting his wide gaze as you turned your head. A soft smile spread across your face as you kissed his cheek. “Not a single thing.”

#obey me!#obey me smut #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x read #obey me x reader #smut #otome #otome x reader #werewolf #heat #obey me fanfic #want (wolf!lucifer x reader)

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ask-the-riders · 3 years

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Paragon

The last time we saw 406, she got beat up by War for coming onto Pest. She's not the most graceful or emotionally mature person in the multiverse, but since then, she's gone through some things that completely turned her life upside down. She makes a choice that could very well count as her first step toward becoming a better person

This is also kinda sorta more like a flashback of sorts, since the events would've already happened at some point in the background

(gonna add some potential trigger warnings for implied abuse, angst, brief violence, references to coercion, references to r*pe/noncon, forced pregnancy, and childbirth)

"Hey, Cross?"

The soldier glanced at his teammate, "What?" The glitch seemed to hesitate for a moment, her brow bones furrowing, "Do you... Ever think about leaving here? Finding somewhere new that's safe, and starting over?" Cross shifted his full attention to her, making a face. He glanced around at their surroundings, making sure they were alone before he murmured, "Of course... All the time." 406's gaze became pleading, "If we worked together, we could find a way out." He frowned, regarding her with confusion and concern, "Why would you wanna leave?... You and Killer are an item. You love the guy, for whatever reason. That, and you're... Y'know." He gestured to her extremely swollen stomach and she shrunk back, wrapping her arms around herself. Lowering her gaze to the floor, she was silent for a moment before slowly lifting a hand, touching the forming bruise that resided on her cheek, "Maybe I do have feelings for him, but... I don't think he gives a damn about me. He's been sneaking around with the princess and the boss, and he's been making passes at Kali recently, too. I don't think I mean anything to him." She paused, tears beginning to prick at her sockets, "I didn't even want this pregnancy... He forced it on me. I don't have the heart to kill a baby, but I don't think I'm meant to be a mom, either... The kid deserves so much better than a life here with me." Cross watched as a tear ran down her face and transformed into a single blue thread, and he frowned.

Approaching her without hesitation, he opened his arms, letting out a soft sigh as she latched onto him, burying her face in the fabric of his coat. As she began to cry, the soldier delicately wrapped his arms around her, his frown deepening. Killer was an ok guy at times, and on the field, he was incredibly strong. His strength and power were always impressive to witness, but deep down inside, Cross still knew Killer was nothing short of an inconsiderate prick. It didn't matter how strong Killer was; He lacked any redeeming qualities, and he didn't think twice about hurting even the people that tried to help him. Cross didn't understand what 406 ever saw in him to begin with, but he chose not to question the glitch as she continued sobbing. He used a hand to gently rub her back, and she drew in a shaky breath, "I follow all of Nightmare's orders, and I've done everything that Error's asked of me, but they don't care. I gave myself to Killer and allowed myself to be vulnerable, and he took advantage of that. I gave him everything, and in the end, he didn't give a damn. And forget Dust. He doesn't give a damn about me, either. Nobody cares, Cross. Why doesn't anyone care about me?" The soldier made a soft sound in uncertainty, his voice soft, "I don't know... But listen. They don't matter. You work harder than most of the team, and it's their problem if they can't recognize and appreciate that."

406 began to cry harder, her grip on his coat tightening. He was quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat, prompting her to look at him. When she did, he offered her a tiny smile, "I have a meeting arranged with Dream. If I can convince him to help us, then I guess the guys here will just have to live without you. Nightmare will place more work on everyone, they'll have to work harder and longer hours, and then they'll see why they should've appreciated you more." 406 attempted to blink back more tears, her voice cracking, "D-Do you think Dream will wanna help us?... After all the things we've done?" The soldier nodded, “I’m sure he will… He’s nothing like Nightmare, or anyone else here, for that matter. From the times I’ve spoken with him, he’s kind, and he genuinely cares for others. He won’t manipulate us, or try to use us the way Nightmare would.” The glitch sniffled, “What’ll happen when Nightmare finds out that we betrayed him, though? What about Error?” She paused, her figure fizzling, “They’re gonna kill us, Cross. They’ll kill us when they find out what we did.” Cross’ brow bones became knit in determination, “It’s not gonna be pretty when they catch on, but I won’t just stand there and let them try to kill us for it. I intend to fight them every step of the way. I know you’re pregnant and all, but I might need your help, 406. Do you think you could…?”

With teary eyes, she slowly looked up at him, biting back another fearful sob, “I dunno how much I could do without risking mine and the baby’s safety too much, but if it means getting out of here and finding somewhere better to go, then I’ll do whatever I have to.” Cross offered her a small smile in reassurance, lifting a hand to gently cup her face, “You’re strong, and I believe in you, ok? We can do this. I know we can.” Interrupting their moment, one of their teammates cleared their throat, “Well, isn’t this sweet. I didn’t think anyone here was capable of that anymore.” The pair stiffened, and Cross moved to shield 406 with his body. In the doorway, Kali watched both of them, her expression unreadable.

Cross scowled at her, his entire body tensed, “What are you doing here, Kali? Didn’t you have a job to do?” The female skeleton leaned against the door frame, casually shrugging her shoulders, “I did, but I’m finished now. Why does that matter to you?” The soldier scoffed, “You know exactly why it matters. How long have you been standing there?” Kali hummed, “Long enough to hear about your plans to run away together and start working for Dream.” 406’s sockets widened in fear and she peeked around Cross’ shoulder to look at Kali, her tone all but pleading, “Please don’t say anything to anyone, Kali. I know you don’t like me very much, but please don’t say anything. If anyone finds out, we could be killed for this. Cross would die, I would die, my baby would die… Please, please don’t tell anyone. I don’t want them to hurt the baby.” Kali shifted her attention to the glitch and tilted her head, “You’re right that I don’t like you. I don’t like you OR Cross, and I’ve never been a fan of kids, either. Killer fathered that child though, and we both know he’s one of Nightmare’s strongest. Between the two of you, I’m curious to know how strong the baby will be.” 406’s terrified gaze became confused, and Kali took a moment to gauge it before she continued, “I can’t exactly see how strong your baby is if it’s dead, can I?” Cross’ expression hardened at her words, “What are you saying, Kali? Are you gonna keep your mouth shut or not?”

The skeleton in question looked at him again, “I have nothing to gain from ratting you out, so I might as well.” The pair visibly began to relax, and for a moment, it was silent. Kali contemplated something for a few seconds before her own brow bones became knit, “I’m leaving too, actually. The princess offered me a job, and I already agreed. It’ll be a matter of days before everything’s processed, and I should be able to move into her castle fairly soon.” Cross made a face, clearly not buying any of what she’d said, “Oh yeah? What kind of job did she offer you?” She sighed, “Bodyguard. It’ll be pretty similar to this job, but she already explained that she’d raise the pay and adjust my work hours if I had any complaints. I won’t have to guard her all the time, only when she asks me to.” The discussion came to a screeching halt as Killer emerged from a nearby room and sauntered over to Kali, now also blocking the doorway. Casually twirling a knife in one hand, he arched a brow bone, “Well don’t stop your conversation because of little ol’ me. By all means, keep talkin’.” 406 stared at him with wide eyes, remaining hidden behind Cross. Noticing immediately as 406 clung tightly to his coat, the soldier narrowed his eyes at Killer, “Why the hell are you even here, Killer? No one invited you into the conversation, and no one wants you here, so do us all a favor and go away.” Killer brushed off his words with ease, “Sorry Criss-Cross, last time I checked, you’re not my boss.” Cross growled lowly in irritation and Killer let out an exaggerated groan, “Oh, stop it, will ya. You know that doesn’t work on me. “

Finally spotting 406 peeking at him from behind Cross, Killer hummed, a smirk making its way onto his face, “There she is… I’ve been looking for ya everywhere, Mama.” 406 shrunk back, holding Cross’ coat in a death-grip as she let out a nearly inaudible whine. Fully aware of her reaction, he began to approach her, but was stopped as Kali suddenly straightened, blocking his path. With both arms outstretched, she blocked the entire doorway and scowled up at Killer. In response, he made a face, “Uhhh, Kali? What are you doing? I’m tryna get through here, y’know.” She nodded, “Yeah, I’m aware. I don’t think it’d be a good idea to enter the room with them, though. It’d be in your best interest to leave.” Killer stared at her for a few seconds, and then offered her a charming grin. Pocketing his knife, he reached out to hold her hips, tugging her flush against himself as he purred, “Only if you leave with me.”

Kali’s scowl hardened and she hissed, “You have two seconds to get your damn hands off of me.” Ignoring her warning, Killer kept himself pressed firmly against her, chuckling in amusement, “You’re feisty… I like that.” Kali growled, catching him completely by surprise as she jerked her leg upward and kneed him square in the pelvis. His sockets widened and he spat out a string of expletives, and she scoffed, stomping on one of his feet as hard as possible. He released her hips, and as soon as she saw his hand dart into the pocket that contained his knife, she balled her hand into a fist. As her fist caught the underside of his jaw with the force of a freight train, his head was thrown back. Killer staggered back away from her, his sockets narrowed in anger as he regained his balance and drew his knife, growling, “You little bitch… You’re gonna pay for that!” Donning a cocky grin, Kali arched a brow bone, holding out a hand and summoning her trident, “Am I, Killer? Attack me and see what happens, I dare you.” In the background, Cross and 406 watched her in shock. Killer was strong… Enough so that Nightmare had made him his right hand. Kali was still new, and she’d never seriously fought him before. 406 drew in a sharp breath, pressing a hand to her swollen stomach and wincing. Cross glanced back at her over his shoulder, “You ok, 406?” The glitch gave a tiny nod, “I-I think so… There was this sharp pain, but it’s gone now.”

The soldier nodded back, and just as he was about to respond, she whined loudly, tears pricking at her sockets again as she hugged herself. Cross frowned and turned to face her, carefully scooping her up into his arms, “Come on, we’ve gotta get you away from here.” Kali interrupted, “Hey, if it’s the baby, go straight to the princess. She’ll be able to help you better than anyone else you know.” Cross made a sound in acknowledgment, glancing back to see Killer pinning her to a wall, his arm over her throat, “Ok, we will. Are you gonna be ok?” Kali kept her attention on Killer, still glaring at him, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Just go, Cross. You have bigger things to worry about at the moment.” 406 cried out in pain and Cross’ eyes widened, a look of panic settling on his face. He used a shortcut, the glitch still in his arms as he vanished. Reappearing in the throne room of Nyx’s castle, he looked around, frantically calling out, “Is anyone here?! Please, we need help! Please help us!” Phasing out of the nearby shadows, the princess quickly pieced together what was happening. Snapping her finger, an imp appeared in a small puff of red smoke beside her. Realizing that his surroundings had changed, the imp immediately narrowed his eyes at her, “Your Highness, what is the me-“ “Get your cleaning supplies ready, Custodius. I need to get these two to the clinic, and I want you to sanitize the area. The sooner, the better.” Registering what she was asking of him, Custodius nodded, giving a small, quick bow before disappearing down the hall. Nyx approached the pair, “I’ll take you to the clinic. Take my hand, Cross.”

Cross shifted 406 in his arms, taking the hand that Nyx had offered to him. With another shortcut, the three of them were teleported across the castle and into the clinic. Cross gingerly set 406 down on one of the empty beds and helped her lay down, and Nyx’s magic gripped the curtains, pulling them closed around the bed for privacy. Focusing on the pair, she furrowed her brow bones, “Are you the father?” Cross shook her head, “No. The dad is Killer.” The princess briefly clenched her jaw, letting out a deep sigh, “Shall I contact him?” The soldier shook his head again, “No, don’t. He considered killing the baby at one point, and she doesn’t want him around.” She made a sound in understanding, “I see… In that case, I won’t. I need you to get her lower half undressed so we can proceed with the birth.” Despite the purple blush that began to spread across his face, Cross nodded, immediately moving to follow the princess’s instructions. Nyx’s magic briefly flared up, and a humanoid shadow figure appeared beside the bed, offering a hand to 406. The glitch stared at it with wide eyes and the princess took the gentlest tone possible, “Please take its hand, 406. It can’t feel anything, so you can squeeze as hard as you need to.” 406 whimpered, one hand holding her stomach while she lifted the other, taking the shadow figure’s hand in her own. As pain flooded her senses, the glitch let out a shrill scream, blue tears rolling down her face and shifting into threads. As soon as Cross finished removing her pants, she was instructed to begin pushing, and she complied.

In what seemed like forever and yet no time at all, the baby was born. A blanket was draped over 406’s lower half, and as she gazed at the tiny, prematurely-born babybones in her arms, she felt nothing but love. This baby… Her son… He was perfect. Cross sat on the edge of the bed beside her, watching how she held the infant so close to herself and the way she was looking at him. It was obvious that she loved him, and Cross couldn't blame her; He was tiny and adorable, and although most of his lightly greyed bones were concealed by the small blanket he’d been swaddled in, his wide, deep scarlet sockets were wide open and completely visible. He cooed and let out the occasional squeal, and 406 watched him, entirely enamored by his behavior. Slipping back into their private section of the clinic, Nyx was silent for a moment, calmly watching the new mother and infant. She took another few seconds to observe Cross, a bit surprised that he’d decided to stay. He wasn’t the father, but he was almost acting like he thought he was. The princess cleared her throat to announce her presence, before she approached the bed. 406 reluctantly tore her gaze away from her son to look up at Nyx as she spoke, “I hate to bombard you with such serious questions right after you’ve just given birth, but there are some things that I need to know.” The glitch furrowed her brow bones in concern, “Like what?…” The princess stole a glance at the infant before responding, “Kali has informed me that the two of you were considering running from my father, and she seems to believe that your intentions were to seek safety with Dream. Is that true?”

406 hesitated, glancing away from the princess as she hesitantly nodded, her voice soft, “Yeah… That’s true.” Cross blinked in surprise, “You heard back from Kali already? That was fast.” Nyx couldn’t help the tiny, mildly amused grin that tugged at the corners of her mouth, “I did. I got the message from her shortly after the two of you arrived here.” She made her way around 406’s bed, taking a seat in a nearby chair, “Explain to me why you’d run from my father, though. I’d like to hear your reasons.” The glitch frowned, unconsciously tightening her grip on her son the smallest bit, “The pay was good, and we had all the food and material items we could’ve ever wanted, but… He did nothing to prevent the abuse that happened between members of his staff. Like this baby… I didn’t even want to be a mom. Killer forced it on me when I told him not to, and here we are now. I started to think about the conditions that my son would be growing up in, and I realized that it’s not safe there for him.” Nyx tilted her head, “You wanted to leave because of the environment, and because you were worried for your child’s safety.” 406 nodded in confirmation, and Nyx reached out, delicately touching her arm, “I see. That’s very noble of you, and I’m happy to hear that you care so much for the safety of your child. I can tell that you love him very much already, and while that brings me joy, I need to ask if you intend to keep him.” The glitch seemed startled by her question, her sockets momentarily widening the smallest bit.

For clarification, the princess added on, “You said that you didn’t want to be a mother, so I wondered what your plans were for the baby.” 406 watched her son for a moment in silence before she frowned, letting out a deep sigh, “I don’t… I’m not capable of being the kind of parent that he needs. I’m temperamental and unstable; sometimes I can’t even predict what I’ll do next. If I kept him, there’s a chance that I could hurt him, and I don’t want that. I love him, and it’s gonna hurt like hell to give him away, but I think it might be what’s best for him.” The princess’s expression softened, “I understand. While I’d like nothing more than to give you my best wishes for motherhood, I can see what you mean, and I think you might be right. If you’re not sure that you can guarantee his safety and constant wellbeing, then it would be best to have him be cared for by someone who can. Was there anyone that you had in mind already?” 406 shook her head, “No, there’s not. Other than you and Cross, I have no one that I can go to for this.” Nyx was silent for a brief moment, contemplating what to do; She really wanted to help, and while she knew that one day, there’d have to be an heir to her throne, she couldn’t care for the child herself. As of right now, she was simply too busy, and she knew she’d never be able to provide the constant love and care that the baby needed. Her thoughts drifted back to her followers, and an idea dawned on her.

“How about we keep him here for the next two months? He was born prematurely, so it’d give us a chance to monitor his health and give him the chance to develop a bit. I can send for supplies as soon as you need them, and you can take that time to look through some paperwork and pick out someone suitable to adopt him.” 406’s body fizzled in surprise at the offer, and she looked at Nyx with wide eyes, “You’re sure there’s someone out there that’d really wanna adopt him?… Do you think they’d allow me to visit someday and meet him, once I get settled in somewhere and have time to work on myself?” The princess made a sound in confirmation, offering her a slight smile in reassurance, “Of course I’m sure. I take in orphans and rescue children all the time, and there’s plenty of people in my kingdom that would be overjoyed at the chance to take him in. If you want to meet him someday, you could write that down and I’ll make sure to bring it up to whoever you consider sending him to.”

The glitch slowly nodded, “Alright, I guess that’d be ok… Why two months, though?” Nyx arched a brow bone, “That’s for his well-being. If you stay here and breastfeed him for two or three months, it’ll help with his development and lower his risk of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. You could bottle feed him instead if you really wanted to, but I’ve found that compared to babies that are exclusively breastfed, formula-fed babies get sick more often, and they have a doubled overall infant death risk.” 406’s sockets widened slightly and her brow bones became furrowed, “How long do I have to worry about him suddenly dying?” The princess hummed, “The risk will be present until he’s a year old, but most cases happen between one and four months of age. Technically speaking, the risk won’t start to decrease until he reaches six months old, but I’m sure he’ll be alright. I make sure to educate all of the people who fill out adoption applications, especially those that plan to adopt infants.” 406 began to slowly relax, and the princess seemed to consider something as she continued watching the glitch. Shifting her attention to Cross, she cleared her throat, “Cross, you’ve been to my castle before, correct?” The soldier nodded, arching a brow bone in confusion, “Yeah, I have… Why?” Nyx stood and made her way over to a cabinet, opening it and beginning to dig through the contents, “I need you to find my office. On my desk, there’s a key for one of my filing cabinets. The key has a purple paint spot on it, and once you find it and get to the filing cabinet that’s labeled ‘A - E’, I need you to unlock it and go through the ‘C’ files. There’s one that has a green label on the front, and I need you to bring it to me.”

Deciding not to question her, the soldier made a sound in acknowledgment, murmuring a soft ‘yes, ma’am’ before vanishing. The glitch glanced from the area he’d just been sitting to the princess, visibly confused. Well aware of her confusion, Nyx turned to face her, wearing a tiny, amused grin again, “I figured I’d give him something to do while I try to help you learn how to breastfeed. Unless, of course, you wanted him to stick around.” 406’s cheekbones immediately became flushed with a deep shade of a dull midnight blue and she shook her head, “Nope. That was a good call, Princess.” Nyx bit back laughter at the glitch’s response and sighed, approaching the bed again. Reaching for the infant, she hummed, “I’ll take the baby for a moment… You’ll get him back as soon as you’re ready, I promise.” Although she was clearly a bit reluctant to do so, she carefully passed her new son to Nyx. As she proceeded to sit up and began fumbling with her shirt, the princess looked at the baby and hummed, “Out of curiosity, what would you like to name him?”

406’s face remained stained with a blush and she refused to look at Nyx as she began to reveal her ecto, “Well… When I first looked at him, I thought he was perfect. That being said, I feel like ‘Paragon’ would be pretty fitting.” Nyx’s expression softened as the baby cooed and stared up at her with wide eyes, his body giving a tiny glitch, “Paragon, huh?… I think I like the sound of that.”

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autisticbyaccident · 4 years

Text

Listen I’m kinda psyched.

So my mom found an Erb’s palsey specialist in Houston, which is a hell of a drive but still in state.

Well I’ve been having issues with my arm/hand lately. It’s begun to shake and the muscles jump and twitch, it also falls asleep easily, which really just makes my arm feel like there’s a nice breeze across it since the tingling changes to feeling cold in my head. My hand has also been a major problem. My thumb, pointer, and middle finger all lock up so badly I have to manually bend them with my other hand to make them work again, especially my pointer finger. As the weather changes it’s getting worse. My hand also aches, but in this strange numbed way only other EP babes will understand. It’s bothersome and a bit worrying, but I really think that’s on me.

See the last time I saw a doctor about my hand was when I was 12/13ish and began to feel something, a sort of dull ache, the same as now. They basically threw their hands up and said “idk man, you’re fat and you’re growing? Growing pains? Maybe that’s it? Whatevs, I’m not touching it” because my arm is already so much more useful and mobile than any of my doctors ever dreamed it would be when I was an infant. So the doctors I visited didn’t want to touch my arm and risk making it worse.

Well since then I’ve dealt with a lot of mental health issues and I’ve just mutilated my arm beyond belief. My arm and my hand especially are very scarred, the skin is just now beginning to soften and fade, but what I’ve done will always be visible.

There are three injuries in particular I think are to blame for the worst of my issues.

1. When I was 15 I cut the bottom knuckle on my pointer finger so deeply that when I spread the wound apart and moved my finger, I could see something white inside moving around. I now believe that was my own tendon. I sewed the wound shut with white thread when someone at school saw and tried to tell a teacher. I flushed the wound with alcohol regularly but didn’t bandage it. It was winter and my mom was busy so I was able to keep my hand hidden until it was just a normal cut again, which took a long time. I believe this is the reason my pointer finger locks up and doubt there’s anything to do for it.

2. On my 16th birthday my mom and I got in an argument. I don’t remember what about, but I went to my room. I felt the need to cut so I took my scissors and intended to stab myself just enough to draw blood. But in my anger I ended up stabbing through my hand, I remember the skin of my palm being distended, though I didn’t feel it. I tried to stop the bleeding but it was too much and I panicked once I began to feel dizzy. I told my mom and we went to the er. It took a lot of begging and bargaining to keep from being sent back to the mental ward. The stab was in the center of the back of my hand, between the middle and pointer finger tendons. I think this one is why my middle finger locks up.

3. Finally, the lighthearted one. When I was 18 I went to go see a movie with my mom. I had to go to the bathroom but was so anxious to not miss my favorite part I tripped on my way out. My hand felt odd (by which I mean I felt it at all). 6 weeks later I was getting ice cream with my dad and realized I could bend my thumb to the side enough to touch the pad of my thumb to my pinky knuckle. (Try it, you shouldn’t be able to) and my dad almost screamed. He insisted my thumb was broken and got me a brace on the way home. As it turns out, he was right, I’d broken a tiny little bone during my fall and didn’t notice because it didn’t hurt. I was in a cast for 3 months.

So anyway, I don’t think there’s anything this doctor could do for me, though he does seem to treat adults with EP. I doubt he’d be willing to risk a surgery, I have a feeling he’ll just tell me to do physically therapy again, and in turn they’ll tell me that if I lost weight my arm would be lighter and easier to move. (Fair enough I guess? I honestly don’t know) but at the least I’d like to talk to a doctor who may be able to tell me a little more about my arm/disability and what to expect from the future. I’d like to know if I’ll degenerate further or meet with any other health issues due to my EP.

(I’d also like to say I’ve been mostly self harm free for years. I had a small relapse where I gave myself a cut that was so small it barely bled, but i immediately knew it wasn’t going to make me feel better and stopped. It’s a habit and an addiction and there’s hope to stop. It gets better, it gets easier to find new outlets. Be patient with yourself, be kind.)

#erbs palsy #brachial plexus injury #bpi #tw self harm #tw mutilation #tw wounds #tw: mental health #healing #growing

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blurry-fics · 6 years

Text

Heartbeat

Pairing: ex!Tyler Joseph x Reader, Unspecified Boy x Reader

Warnings: Sexual themes, angst, the song has some inappropriate lyrics

Word Count: 1552

Request: song imagine to heartbeat by childish gambino to Tyler?

Author’s Note: Not going to lie, it took me a couple tries to figure out exactly how I wanted to write this one. I really hope that I was able to do it justice! And as always, the song is here and the lyrics are here!

“You coming, babe?” your boyfriend called from the living room.

“Yeah,” you answered. “I’ll be there in a second.”

Your phone buzzed in your hand as you were walking back from the kitchen. You twisted your hand so that you could see the screen without spilling the drinks that you were carrying in the process.

You felt your stomach drop when you read the name. It was Tyler, your ex-boyfriend that you just couldn’t seem to keep out of your life. Your current boyfriend didn’t know about him, and you intended to keep it that way.

“You alright?” he asked as you sat down on the couch and passed him his drink. “Your face looks kinda pale.”

“Fine,” you smiled as you deliberately set your phone down on the couch next to you so that the screen wasn’t visible. “Must be the lighting.”

The text would have to wait.

“Whatever you say.”

The credits began to roll on the screen. You were curled up in your boyfriend’s arms, trying to ignore the text that kept flashing in the back of your mind. Your phone was on the other end of the couch, hidden away from your boyfriend’s prying eyes.

“Y/N,” he said.

“Yeah?”

You felt him take a deep breath before he started to speak, “I want you to come back home with me and meet my parents.”

You sat up suddenly and turned to face him, a mixture of worry and panic on your face, “What?”

You had never intended for your relationship to get this serious. Things with Tyler were still messy and your current boyfriend was more of a distraction than anything.

“We’ve been dating for a few months and things seem to be going well. My family is important to me, and it just seems like the right move.”

He looked a bit upset that you had reacted so intensely to his suggestion. You almost felt bad for him, but you knew that it wasn’t fair to him to act like things were serious.

“I’m just...not comfortable with that yet,” you said, trying to give him a reassuring smile.

“Come on, Y/N. It won’t be that bad.”

He reached out and tried to rub your arm, but you shifted away from it.

“I just don’t think we’re that serious yet.”

“What do you mean we’re not that serious?”

“It’s only been a few months, Y/B/N. Things haven’t really picked up.”

“So the dates and the sex and the late nights and feelings, are those all for fun?”

Yes.

“No! That’s not what I mean at all. It’s just so early in the relationship, it’s hard to tell.”

He was getting angry now. Both of you were starting to raise your voices, and if you weren’t careful this would be a full blown fight.

“Well it isn’t hard for me,” he huffed. “I love you, Y/N, and I think that our relationship could actually go all the way.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off again.

“You know what? Why don’t you take some to think about if this relationship is actually worth it to you or not? Call me when you figure it out.”

Y/B/N got up and walked to the front door. He grabbed his coat and car keys from beside the door and walked out without another word, letting the door slam behind him. You leaned back against the couch and sighed.

The image of the text message popped into your mind again. You reached over and grabbed your phone, deciding that three hours was enough time to make Tyler wait for a response.

I’m in town.

Of course he was. He always showed up at the most unexpected times.

It’s not fair.

Ironically, Tyler was the only one who would understand your relationship problems. Your friends had no idea that you two were still seeing each other, if you could call it that. It was more like hooking up whenever he was in town. You hated the dynamic that the two of you had, but something about him was so magnetic that you just couldn’t let him go.

What’s going on?

Rather than trying to explain everything to him through a text, you dialed his number. You already knew where this was going, so you might as well accept it now.

“Hello?”

His voice was so familiar. Safe, even.

“Hi, Tyler.”

“So what’s wrong?”

You started to explain the story to Tyler. It only took a few minutes for you to start crying about your situation and ask him where he was staying.

“I’ll be over in ten minutes.”

“We can’t keep doing this,” you whispered.

The room was dark and you could just barely make out Tyler’s shape on the bed next to you. He shifted slightly and reached up to lightly rest his fingers on your forearm. You felt tingles where he touched you.

“Why not?”

“Because this doesn’t work, Tyler. The hooking up whenever you’re around. It’s preventing both of us from moving on like we should be. There’s a reason we broke up in the first place.”

Tyler moved his hand so that it was now resting on your waist. His hand was warm against your bare skin.

“It’s worked so far.”

“No. This needs to stop.”

He took his hand off of you. Your skin felt cold where it had been.

“Fine, have it your way.”

He got out from under the covers. You watched as he pulled his pants on and grabbed the rest of his clothes from around the room.

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, I’m leaving.”

“Ty, it’s two in the morning.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s not like I’m going to spend the rest of the night here.”

He pulled on his shirt and left the room without another word. You heard the front door slam downstairs, meaning that he was gone.

Exasperated, you grabbed the pillow from beneath your head and pressed your face into it. You screamed into it, hoping that it would release some of the tension that had built itself up in your chest. Of course Tyler had been upset about you calling things off.

Things being easy had never been an option.

It had been a couple days since the incident with Tyler. He hadn’t contacted you since then. You hadn’t talked to your boyfriend either. Part of you was still holding out hope that Tyler would call.

You had only scrolled past a couple photos on Instagram when one of Tyler’s posts popped up. It was from a party he must have gone to the previous night. He was standing with his arm around a girl that you didn’t recognize. The second photo was him with the same girl, although this time his face was much closer to hers, as if he was whispering something in her ear.

He was trying to piss you off. To anyone else, the photos would seem innocent. After all, it was just Tyler at a party with a girl, right?

Wrong.

This was him playing games and trying to make you jealous. As long as you were seeing someone, he was going to make it seem like he was too.

You knew it was all a game, and yet your stomach still twisted in discomfort when you looked at the photos. That had been you at one point, going to parties and posing with Tyler. He probably wasn’t even dating that girl, it was all some scheme to make you feel terrible. And it was working.

You were a bit surprised that he was even with another girl. He had always confessed to you that he was terrified of girls dating him just for his money and fame. That’s part of why he had always liked you so much, you had never cared about anything but him.

Apparently making sure you were hurting was more important to him.

“So we’re done?” Tyler’s voice crackled through the phone.

“We were done weeks ago, Tyler,” you answered, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

“I didn’t think you were serious. Do you know how many times you told me we couldn’t hook up anymore?”

“Well I’m serious this time. Next time you’re in town just don’t even bother calling me.”

“Your boyfriend is a real dick, you know that?”

“Stop. You don’t even know him.”

“He’s not cool. He’s fake.”

“Don’t start ragging on him just because you’re mad I called things off.”

“I’m the best that you had. Face it.”

“Bye, Tyler.”

You hung up the call before he could get another word in. Y/B/N was sitting on the couch when you walked into the living room. You hadn’t heard him come in.

“Who’s Tyler?” he asked.

“Just someone from my past,” you smiled, sitting in the spot next to him on the couch.

“You’re not hiding anything from me, are you?”

“No, I would never.”

“Ok,” he said, sliding an arm around you.

You knew that you should feel relieved that things were finally over and you didn’t have to worry about sneaking around your boyfriend’s back. Instead, something still felt off. You wondered if that feeling would ever go away.

Maybe you and Tyler should have never hooked up in the first place.

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alittleoptimistic · 7 years

Text

Shutdown

AN: Many years ago I promised myself I would never stoop to writing fan fiction about real people. Well. whoops.

Summary: Thomas is stuck in his own head. When Thomas is in a car accident, Virgil has to enact a ‘failsafe’ that shuts everything and everyone down but himself. To his shock, Thomas, who is convinced that his sides are characters he has made up, appears inside the control room. And he... can’t leave.

Pairings: Naw man I am awkward af at that stuff.

Warnings: Uhh, panic in a car accident, I suppose? Some slightly graphic injuries.

Chapter One

“You made us oversleep.”

They were going to be late to the party and every single one of them was aware of it. However, Virgil was especially conscientious of this fact and it was driving him mad. They were crowded over the control board eyes, fixed on the massive screen in front of them. Thomas blinked and the screen went black for an instant. They looked through his eyes at the steering wheel and the road ahead. The control board was filled with a multitude of keys and buttons and levers and blinking lights, and the Sides busily scrambled around the board in no particular order. The room around them was metal and clean and multilayered with spiraling stairs and odd colored doors leading into hallways that not even they had fully explored. Warm yellow lights floated through the air and normally would be calming. But not today. In the control room, there was hardly ever order. Everyone wanted to be in charge and thus no one was.

“There’s nothing we could have done,” Logan said. He twisted a key and Thomas flicked on his turn signal. “Thomas needs sleep and someone has been not allowing him any more than four hours a night for more than a week now!”

Virgil shot Logan a dirty look and tried to worm his way back toward the board. Virgil had a way of standing that made it seem that he was folding in on himself. Slumped and crooked and a little bruised. “Look, if you had done your job and actually created a schedule like usual, then I wouldn’t have to wonder what we still have to do and-”

“We should speed up, kids!” Paton interrupted. He wound his hands under Logan’s and tapped on the keyboard. “We’ll get there sooner if we go faster!” Logan glared at him.

“Well, yes. But we can’t go past the speed limit.”

“The sky's the limit!” Roman roared. He shoved Logan into Virgil with more strength than he probably intended, and the two of them ended up in a heap on the floor.

“Ow!”

“Get off of me!”

Logan pursed his lips, stood up, and tried to get back through. “Honestly,” he muttered.

Meanwhile, Roman patted Patton on the head. “Faster, little guy.”

And Virgil just sat there. On the floor. He huffed and used the railing to stand up, straightening his hoodie. He knew that staying back was what the others wanted him to do. Things were easier when he stayed back.

But come on, this was ridiculous. He had a job to do, and he couldn’t just let them keep him from the control board. Especially since, “Are you sure we looked at the text right? Was the time one thirty or two-thirty?”

Logan glanced back and flicked a button. The text appeared in their mind’s eye on the screen. It starts at 2:30.

Virgil shifted his weight and tugged at his sleeves as he peered at the message. Was it right, though? Had they really seen that or was Logan remembering incorrectly? Logan might be remembering incorrectly. It had happened before. They should make sure. He should make sure it really was going to start at 2:30. Maybe he’d seen 12:30 and not noticed the one or something.

He shouldered up to Logan who cried out in exasperation. “Virgil, please! We need to get there on time and safely.”

Virgil tuned him out. He needed to make sure the text was right. He fumbled and finally got ahold of the correct button. He’d just pick up the phone and check…

Logan knocked his hand away. “We’ve looked at it three times, Virgil!”

“But we may have read it wrong!”

“I didn’t read it wrong!”

“Why do you have to be such a jerk about it?! I just want to look! We’ll seem stupid if we show up hours off of the correct time!” He grabbed the lever, and Thomas snapped up his phone. Clicked on the screen…

“It’s green!” Patton yelped. “The light’s green!”

“Thank you, Patton, I hear you.” Logan took away control, and Virgil threw his hands in the air. They all stumbled back as Thomas shot forward. “Easy on the gas, Patton,” Logan added. He straightened his tie and pinched between his eyes. Aw, the poor thing had a headache. Virgil couldn’t refrain from rolling his eyes.

Not to mention, Virgil still hadn’t seen the screen. “We still don’t know when we’re supposed to be there,” he chimed in.

And that was the last straw.

Logan stilled.

He slowly took his hands from the controls and turned to face him.

Whoops, Virgil thought. Unlike the rest of them, Logan did not become visibly frazzled when he was upset. He did not shout or scream or run in circles. He most certainly did not get the multi-layered (frankly terrifying) voice Anxiety had when he was pissed off.

Instead, Logan was calm. Completely calculating. Any trace of emotion that he had, any at all, was shut down completely.

It was utterly terrifying.

Virgil took a small step back. “L-Logan?”

“Why are you like this?” Logan asked. He gestured at him vaguely. At his clothes and his posture and his hair. “We have looked at the message four times. There is no need for you to continue insisting that we look at it once more.”

“I’m just doing my job,” Virgil spat. He held his ground as Logan came closer. So close his nose nearly touched his. They were the same height, but right then Logan seemed much larger.

“Your job is to keep Thomas safe. Instead,” He cocked his head “you are a mess of a creature.”

Virgil tightened his jaw. It infuriated him because it was true. He pushed Logan out of his face. They could say what they liked in the stupid videos Roman was heading up, but the real Logan and Patton and Roman? They still hated his guts (or in Patton’s case, was kinda scared of him). And that was fine. It was just how things were and no amount of ‘talking’ was going to fix that. Roman had been the one to let Thomas give proper names to the characters Thomas had created subconsciously. The ‘teacher’ character became Logan, as he properly was, Princey became Roman, the Dad became Patton and Virgil… Virgil just sort of happened after Virgil lost a bet with Roman which meant Roman could include him. “Every good story needs an antagonist, Virgil,” he recalled Roman arguing.

Whatever. The videos were interesting and entertaining and people loved it. But… Roman had a way of making things a bit more optimistic than they really were.

Virgil pushed past Logan, making sure to hit him roughly with his shoulder as he left the control board to find his chair in the corner. It was a dark area of the room with a door that let out into his bedroom hidden in the darkness. He had a large teardrop-shaped, black chair that spun in circles and was surrounded by a variety of comic books, CDs he liked and other junk he used to distract himself when he couldn’t sleep at night.

“Finally, an attogram of sense,” Logan snapped. Virgil fell into the chair and spun away from them with a flair for drama that caught Roman’s eye for an instant before he went back to playing with Patton. Virgil sighed and stared up at the ceiling. The metal spiraled in interesting patterns Virgil knew by heart. He has often been in this exact position at night, taking the late shift whether or not he (or any of them) liked it.

Virgil shook his head as the sides continued to argue behind him. What a bunch of dipshi-

“What’s that?” Patton’s voice interrupted.

“They should have stopped. They have a red light.”

Slowly, Virgil put his feet back on the floor. His sneakers scraped his chair to a stop and he frowned, listening.

“T-they aren’t slowing down!” Patton shrieked. Patton turned away from the screen. “Virgil, they’re not slowing down!”

No. W-what?

Virgil stood up and took a step forward. On the screen, a massive truck was racing toward them. Any second...

And suddenly he was standing in front of the control board. Everyone jumped back in shock, “Virg-”

“Shut up, Logan.” This was his area. He could do this. He slammed his hands on the controls and several alarms went off, jarring his bones. Red lights flashed, the floor shook, the lights flickered.

“WHAT DID YOU DO!” Roman shouted.

“Adrenaline, you idiot!” Virgil spat back. He took a deep breath, feeling suddenly exhausted (he was out of practice) and flicked his hair out of his eyes so he could see the screen. The truck had slowed to a crawl. The sun glinted off the hood. He swallowed and a shock of fear rushed through him. It was going to hit them. What kind of sick luck was that?

Behind him, he could feel Patton trembling, probably clinging onto Logan. “W-what do we do?”

Without further prompting, Logan pushed forward and shoved Virgil away. “The truck is going to hit us. There is no avoiding it. We have approximately three seconds to contact.” He straightened his glasses and started flicking at the keys. “Chances of survival at this angle are a slim twenty percent, which is unacceptable…”

“TWENTY PERCENT!”

“Quiet, Patton!”

“Can we do something to minimize the impact?” Virgil asked quickly. His hands were shaking, but in some ways, he was steadier than he had been in a long time.

Logan chewed his lip. “If we brace our arms on the steering wheel, we may stop from hitting the windshield. Our seatbelt is on. We can turn to the right to try and get the truck to his the back end of the car instead of our door...” Logan’s fingers flew over the board faster than Virgil had ever seen.

And suddenly he stopped.

He stepped back.

His lips were moving, eyes glazed as he calculated. A slow blink and he shook his head.

Virgil already knew what it meant. It wasn’t going to be enough. They weren’t going to be able to get out of the way in time. The truck was still inching closer. Patton sobbed, held up by Roman, who was frozen in shock.

Well, that just wasn’t good enough.

“There has to be something else we can do,”

Logan shook his head. “I-I don’t know. I can’t think of anything else-”

“What about the failsafe?” he interrupted. “We could enact the failsafe.”

The other three turned to him, shocked, but Logan was the only one who seemed to know what Virgil actually meant. His eyes glazed again and this time he nodded in an affirmative. “Yes. The failsafe is our only option.”

Virgil’s stomach dropped into his shoes. This was going to suck so bad.

“That’s nice,” Roman said, “But what the heck is a ‘failsafe’?”

Logan found time to roll his eyes. “If you had read the manual-”

“Everything, like everything, shuts down but one of the sides,” Virgil interrupted. “It preserves energy and that may be enough to keep Thomas alive.”

“Let’s do it then,” Patton answered immediately. Virgil was not accustomed to seeing him serious, but right then, he was very much so. Patton wiped his glasses with trembling hands and nodded. “We dissolve for a bit, and one of us brings us back once it’s safe, r-right?”

That was the idea. Course, it was incredibly risky and very possible that they might never reappear. That is if they didn’t die anyway.

“I will stay, obviously,” Logan said, which made sense to Virgil. Virgil tried to not think about how horrible it was going to feel to dissolve into… nothing. Temporary or not.

Maybe it would be a good thing if I just stayed dissolved. Better for Thomas… He batted the thought away

But Roman was shaking his head. “No, brainiac.”

Logan blinked.

“Explain. I am the safest choice. I am the only one with the manual memorized, not to mention, I know how to work for the entire board by myself.”

Virgil frowned. Why was Roman against it? It made perfect sense. Unless Roman wanted to stay himself?

“You take up too much energy,” Roman continued. “If you want to preserve energy, then obviously, myself and Patton ought to leave. But you also take up just as much, if not more than the two of us.”

Logan cocked his head.

Processed.

Virgil kept his eyes on the screen.

One second…

“Guys…”

“Virgil should stay,” Patton said.

Virgil whirled toward him. That was a horrible idea. “Patton, you want to leave me with the control room. Alone.”

Patton nodded. He wiped his nose. “Y-your job is to keep Thomas safe.”

Oh.

Oh, he supposed it was, he realized in surprise. Logan looked like he’d just eaten a stick. But Logic nodded. “Patton is… correct. You are quite a lot of things, but at your base, you are self-preservation. Which is all that we need right now. You are our best option… unfortunately.”

Thanks for the vote of confidence.

But there was no time for any more conversation. Virgil forced himself to keep breathing. The idea of staying here alone and solely responsible for Thomas’s continued existence was even more terrifying than dissolving. “O-okay,” he stuttered. He and Logan quickly set up the sequence on the board. It was complex, but Virgil had This Thing memorized because he was pretty much constantly terrified that he’d have to use the failsafe someday.

Funny enough, now that he was using it, he wasn’t quite as terrified as he thought he’d be. At least, not in the same way.

Logan stuck his hand out stiffly and Virgil shook it, hating that Logan most definitely could feel his clammy, shaking hand.

“Do not kill us,” Logan said.

“I’ll do my best.”

Logan nodded sharply and with that, Virgil looked up at the screen and the oncoming truck. It was now or never.

He slammed his hand onto the final button. It was red and large and generally horrible looking.

The moment he pressed the button, several things happened at once.

Logan’s hand melted from his own.

Patton and Roman screamed, and Virgil got a gut-wrenching glimpse of their dissolving faces before he was thrown from his feet.

The lights cut out.

And the truck slammed into them.

It was darker than he’d ever seen before. Darker than the time Thomas went on a tour of an underground tunnel, darker than the basement had been when they lost power one night. It wasn’t darkness. It was nothing. Nothing existed in here but Virgil. There was a high pitched whine scratching at his ears

Virgil slammed into the metal railing, the room barely online still.

He gasped but suddenly was thrown into the air again.

The room spun and tumbled and flew. He was like a pebble in a tin can. He crumpled into walls and floors and ceilings until his entire body roared in agony. It was never-ending. An eternity.

We’re dying. It wasn’t enough we’re dying we’re dying you idiot we’re going to die because of a text like one of those commercials we’re going to die oh god ohgodohgod

A bar flew flat against his stomach, and he doubled over the railing before tumbling over it and landing in a crumpled heap on the floor.

wediedwediedwe’redeadwediedIdead.

But…

He was still thinking. And he was still in pain. He’d always thought he’d stop being in pain if he was dead?

Stillness.

And an aching quiet that made him nauseous.

Maybe he was a ghost… Forced to sit in agony for eternity.

But, no, that didn’t make sense. He wasn’t a person. He wasn’t a whole person. He couldn’t be a ghost.

Virgil forced open his eyes.

In for four… hold for seven… out for eight…

He breathed. He could feel ribs creaking inside him, and the forced breaths only sent lasers of pain through him. But he had to stay awake. He had to stay here, or else Thomas would be lost.

For a long time, he didn’t know how long, he just laid here, curled in his jacket and trying to not think too hard (failing at this) about whether or not he could bleed and if he was bleeding out right now.

Maybe not?

Every bone in his body screamed at him, but he sat up slowly. Blinked.

Darkness.

He shivered. It was freezing in here.

We’re dying.

He needed to turn on the backups… He tried standing and settled for a crawl in the direction he hoped the control board was. It took a bit, but he managed to fumble his way toward it. He traced his fingers over the edges and used it to pull himself standing. Hands outstretched, he pressed the button he knew would be the only one available at the moment. The button stuck for a moment, but he grunted and pressed harder, and it clicked.

A pause.

Nothing happened and panic wrapped a tight hand around his throat. Oh god oh god oh god.

Machinery reluctantly whirled to life somewhere in the walls, and Virgil fell to the floor, both in relief and because he couldn’t hold himself up any longer. He dropped his head against the side of the control board and winced when the lights flicked on. Hot air warmed the room.

The backup lights were fluorescent and greenish and dim and they buzzed like a fly caught in a fly trap. But, whatever, it was light and Virgil was grateful.

The shadows were long and deep, but he could see that the control room was completely trashed. The walls were buckled and bent, various books and machinery and pieces of furniture were mashed to pieces on the floor. The stairs were broken, and a bar from the railing was lodged in the ceiling. Virgil gulped dryly. That bar could have impaled him...

Inhale, 1, 2, 3, 4, hold, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, exhale, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8…

What the heck was he supposed to do now? His thoughts were flicking around like bats and he couldn’t- couldn’t think. What was supposed to happen now? What happens when you get in a car crash?

“Someone will help,” he croaked. “Someone might help us.”

That was all he could hope for.

He needed to monitor Thomas’s vitals. Make sure they stayed semi-steady.

Virgil shut his eyes. Come on, loser, get up.

Using the control board for support, Virgil dragged himself to his feet. Where was he hurt?

Definitely, some ribs were broken, maybe his collarbone, a few cuts on his face, bruises basically everywhere. No arms or legs broken, cut in… his hair? He felt in his bangs, and, yup, that was absolutely blood on his fingers now. But that was okay. He could deal with this. As long as he just breathed really shallowly. He had to keep going.

He blinked at the charts on the control board. Everything was red. Basically, completely falling apart. He set to work without hesitation, pumping chemicals, filling Thomas with more adrenaline and anything else he could think of that might help. The charts steadied a bit. Just a bit. But… he wasn’t getting any worse for now.

He was slumped against the control board, arms rigid straight to keep him up as his head dropped to his chest, trembling.

That was how the newcomer must have first seen him. And what a pitiful sight it must have been.

“H-hello?” said a voice.

Virgil’s head jerked up and he growled in pain as the movement sent pulses down his spine. He cursed quietly

“Is anyone here?”

Slowly, Virgil turned. He frowned. Who could possibly be speaking? There was no one in here but him. That was the whole point. It didn’t sound like any of the Sides, and unless there was another side who decided to show up in a crisis, Virgil couldn’t think of anyone else it could be.

So he stayed quiet. Did nightmares survive the shutdown, or did they continue to exist? Was the voice a nightmare’s? His stomach tightened at the thought.

Someone came closer. Their footsteps tapped on the metal floor.

And out of the shadows melted a very familiar face.

Virgil’s mouth dropped open and a broken piece of metal he’d been holding semi-consciously slipped from his fingers. It clanged on the floor, jarringly loud, and the stranger glanced up at him.

They both stood there.

The stranger was dressed in the clothes Roman had put Thomas in this morning, a purple t-shirt and jeans, and he didn’t seem to be particularly afraid. Confused maybe, but not afraid. He picked his way around the destroyed furniture of the control room.

“Wow. Was there, like, an earthquake or something?”

Virgil didn’t dare move from his spot in the shadows.

It wasn’t possible. He could not possibly get inside here.

The stranger worked his way through the shadows. “I, um, hi!” He tried a smile. “Do you think you could tell me where I am? I-I don’t know how I got here.” For the first time, this seemed to register with him as not good, and concern flashed across the man’s features. He looked up and took the room in. “What is this place? A plane? A subway? Am I in a subway station?”

Virgil had no idea what to do. This was not supposed to happen. Ever.

“Hey, you! Dude over there!” the stranger continued. He waved a hand in the air. “I’m talking to you!”

Virgil swallowed.

With a grumble, the stranger came closer. He picked his way up the stairs. “Man, this is insane. It’s like someone turned the whole room upside down.”

Really. How observant of him.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the stranger finally was close enough to meet Virgil’s eyes. The stranger froze. He took a small step back.

Oh. Right. This was going to totally freak him out.

“W-what’s- that’s not, who are- you shouldn’t- you’re not-”

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” Virgil interrupted. He forced himself to stand up straight and look the stranger up and down. The stranger did the same to him. He was afraid now. Virgil could see it in his eyes.

“V-Virgil?” the stranger said.

“In the flesh.” Virgil repressed a groan of pain and gave the stranger a smile he hoped was reassuring. “Hey, it’s okay. Thomas, right?”

Thomas nodded, just barely.

“I’m going to get you out of here, Thomas.”

Thomas blinked. “This isn’t happening. This isn’t real.”

How exactly to respond to that… In some ways, he was right. “Well… I mean, if that’s easier for you or whatever. Yeah, this is all in your head.”

Thomas didn’t look reassured. Great.

Man, he didn’t have time for this. He couldn’t play nursemaid. He needed to keep Thomas alive.

The charts behind him dipped. Cursing, Virgil turned back around and scrambled for buttons and keys until it steadied again.

He could feel Thomas just behind him, breathing too shallowly, looking over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping us alive.” He didn’t have the energy to come up with a lie Thomas would buy. “We were in a car accident and we had to shut down everything so that you stayed that way.”

Thomas opened his mouth. Closed it again.

“I-I don’t remember that.”

“Yeah, you’ll probably remember when you wake up.” Virgil wiped his nose, and his sleeve came away bloody. Wonderful. Things were just going peachy today.

Thomas just stared. “You’re not real. You’re a character I made up. You’re n-not, you shouldn’t be…” Thomas shook his head and backed up.

Virgil didn’t blame him for that panic. He’d told him this was a dream, but he knew it wouldn’t feel like a dream. It felt real. Because it was real.

Just… not physically real.

But he couldn’t take any more panic. He was panicking well enough on his own. “Thomas,” he barked.

Thomas froze, hands in his hair as he looked around the room in dismay. “W-what?”

“Calm yourself, I’ve got stuff to do.”

Thomas took a deep breath and let it out again. “I’m dreaming. That’s all.”

The room had started a slow spin around Virgil, and he rubbed his eyes to clear his head. Stay awake.

“Yeah. It’s a bit more… intense than a dream obviously because it’s… different. I don’t really have time to explain this to-” He gasped as another lightning bolt went from the top of his head to his feet. He growled in frustration. Alarms went off behind him.

We’re going to die and it’s all your fault, you idiot.

His grip on the board was slipping and the whole room was blurring and-

A hand was on his arm.

Thomas lowered him to the ground and crouched with him. “You’re hurt.”

“No der, Sherlock,” Virgil spat. He felt guilty a second later. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He felt like a piece of crumpled glass. All sharp edges and broken bits. He breathed in and out and Thomas’s hands fretted around him. he didn’t know what to do. But that was okay because his touch was still calming and warm. Virgil normally hated being touched. It was alright now but he curled inward on impulse.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked him.

Virgil forced open his eyes again and instantly his eyes were drawn to the flashing alarms on the board. “I’ve got to-to-” He tried to stand, but Thomas pressed him down firmly.

“Don’t do anything. What the hell…” He peeled back Virgil’s jacket (and there was no way anyone else was ever going to be allowed to do that). Virgil shivered. “You’re chest looks…”

“Broken,” Virgil growled. “I know. I need to get to those alarms.”

Thomas shook his head. His eyes darted around Virgil’s face. “Dude, no. Stop with the alarms.”

If Thomas knew what those alarms meant, he might have reacted differently. Virgil couldn’t push him away, however, and this was going to be a problem. He forced himself to meet Thomas’s eyes. “Thomas, if I don’t stop those alarms, we’re going to die.”

Thomas paled. “Like, in real life.”

“In real life.” Virgil didn’t have any way to prove that to him, and he knew it. He dropped his head to his chest, regretting the movement, but didn’t have the strength to lift his head again. “Dang it, Thomas.” Thomas was right there in front of him. He was sort of blurry now, but Virgil could feel the warmth and light that radiated from him. It was soothing. Calm.

Virgil, stay with me.

Naw. He was tired. Too tired.

Dang it, Virgil, tell me what to do.

Virgil couldn’t open his eyes. “Adrenaline,” he hissed.

Thomas’s light left his side, leaving him cold and empty.

How do I work this thing…

How sad was this? They were going to die because Thomas’s conscious mind had no idea how to work his own brain.

There.

Or…

Not.

A jolt of electricity rushed through Virgil, and he gasped, choking on the air and thrown forward. “shoot, dude! Not so much!” He scrambled to his feet. Adrenaline was not a miracle juice. He felt like he’d been electrocuted repeatedly. But those shocks kept him moving. He ran, fell, stumbled, to the control board and instantly dialed down the adrenaline. “We’re going to have a heart attack if you keep that up.”

Thomas didn’t seem to care. He grinned. “That’s amazing! What’s that button do?” he pointed to a small green one.

“I-I dunno! Logan’s the one with them all memorized. I just know my part.”

“Oh.”

Virgil’s fingers raced across the board, and a few seconds later the alarms faded. The lights returned. Virgil was shaking uncontrollably, but hey, he was alive.

“Wait.” Thomas frowned. “Logan. Logan’s here too?”

Virgil gave him a look. He was burning up in his jacket but knew if he took it off he’d panic. “Of course Logan’s here. Patton and Roman too.”

“That makes sense.” Thomas frowned. “Where are they then? Why aren’t they helping you? Are they hurt to?”

Virgil shook his head. “They’re fine, probably. I had to shut down everything so that we had enough energy to… you know, keep breathing.”

Thomas swallowed thickly. “Right… and h-how long do we have?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Virgil typed on the keyboard and some numbers flashed across the black screen. Thomas jumped at the sudden glowing light. “We have enough energy to keep going without assistance for… an hour.”

Thomas said nothing. In fact, he was so quiet that Virgil glanced at him to make sure he hadn’t disappeared for some reason. He was still there, staring up at the screen. The green words reflected in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Virgil asked. He wasn’t really good at the whole ‘comfort’ thing but he’d try for Thomas.

Thomas cleared his throat and looked away from the screen. “Can you take that down?”

Virgil did. He watched Thomas carefully. He was panicking, terrified, but somehow able to keep that under control. They had a goal and panicking was not going to help them stay alive. It was… weird. To be panicked but focused at once.

He seemed to feel much like Virgil, actually. Which made sense since Virgil was the only one awake at the moment.

“S-so,” Thomas said. His hands trailed over the keys idly. “What happens now?”

“We wait and hope paramedics show up. We were in the middle of a city, so it shouldn’t be too long.”

Thomas’s shoulder’s relaxed. He nodded. “Okay.”

Poor guy, Virgil found himself thinking. This could not possibly be easy.

“You know what?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“This is… this whole room… is exactly like Inside Out.”

This observation was so unexpected, Virgil choked on something that was almost a laugh. He managed a smile, still leaning heavily on the control board. “Yeah,” he croaked. “It’s exactly like Inside Out. Roman lost his mind when we first saw that movie and did some redecorating in honor of it.”

Thomas snorted. “I watched that movie like thirty times.”

“I know. He really liked it once he got over how similar it was to… this.”

Thomas nodded, processing. He scrubbed his face with his hands. “This is insane.”

Yeah, it was. But Virgil didn’t volunteer that thought, instead, he focused on the charts. A little here, a little there, balancing a tipping ship. Fifty-five minutes.

“Are you still in pain?”

Virgil grunted. “Yes. But it’s fine.”

“... Why am I not hurt? I mean, if you’re me...”

Yes. Virgil glanced at him and shrugged. “Dude, I dunno. You want schematics, have a talk with Logan when he gets back.”

Thomas huffed and sat back, his arms crossed.

Suddenly, the charts flickered. The lights brightened and dulled and brightened again, and the floor shook. Thomas grabbed for a railing. “What was that?”

Virgil rubbed an eye with the base of his palm and smiled. Something in him eased. “Paramedics.”

The charts bubbled up and down for a bit as they were moved, but then the room stilled and the little red bars edged up into orange and then yellow.

Behind him, Thomas let out a scared sounding laugh. “About time.”

Slowly, Virgil slid to the floor. He rested against the cool metal and basked in the relief of whatever drugs they were giving Thomas.

Time slipped and slid between his fingers, and a second later, Thomas shook him awake.

Virgil hissed.

“Oh, sorry. Forgot.”

Idiot.

“But look,” Thomas was grinning. He scrambled to his feet to look at the charts and crouched down to Virgil again. “You should be feeling better, right? The bars are all a totally solid… yellow. Like, not green, but yellow is still good right? Yellow is good.”

His words clanged like rocks in Virgil’s head. He scrubbed his face and sat up. “Yeah. Yellow is good. Look at the little squiggly thing to the left. Is it green yet?”

Thomas hopped up.

And shot down again. His hair flopped with each movement. Honestly, he was almost as bad as Patton. Was he trying to give him a heart attack?

But then again, they did almost just die there. So maybe some elation was in order.

“It’s green! I was so freaked out for a bit there, Verge, but I think we’re gonna be okay. I think we’re gonna make it.”

Virgil grunted.

But truly, it was awesome. He’d never felt so relieved in his life.

He tried to stand and Thomas glared at him. “Don’t be stupid. Stay seated. Now… I’ve got to figure out how to… wake… up.” He glanced around the room, and Virgil followed suit.

The lights were brighter now. The little floating orbs of light were back (which was great, he loved those fuzzy things) and Thomas was briefly enraptured by them.

But the light only made it more obvious what the room was missing.

Thomas hopped off the platform near the control board and picked across the broken furniture. “Where're the doors? How do you get out of here without doors…”

Virgil stilled.

That wasn’t right.

There should be doors. Several of them.

And there definitely should be a door that Thomas could use to get out of here.

But he hefted himself up and sure enough, where the doors usually were, there were only walls.

No.

“Maybe it’s because of the failsafe.”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah. That’s probably it.”

Virgil had no idea, but it was the only thing he could think of right now. He still didn’t know how Thomas had entered here in the first place. Perhaps when he shut off the failsafe, Thomas would go back to wherever he was supposed to be.

That sounded reasonable.

Right.

And Thomas had said the squiggly thing on the left was green, which meant there was enough energy to turn off the failsafe.

“Alright, Thomas. I’m going to bring everything back online. You should wake up. Hopefully in a hospital with a hot nurse or two.”

Thomas wrinkled his nose. “Eh, there’s only so many dude nurses.”

“One can hope.” Virgil twisted a knob and another and another.

“H-hey Virgil?”

Virgil paused. Thomas was giving him a weird look. A silly sort of half-smile. “Thank you. For keeping me ‘online’.”

Oh. Virgil cleared his throat and turned back toward the board. He wasn’t good with stuff like this. Of course, he’d kept him alive. “Yeah, well, that’s my job.”

“Thanks, anyway.”

“You’re welcome, I guess. And…” He had his hand on the last button and with the other, he rubbed the back of his neck. “You did, uh, you know, you did good too, Thomas. When it counted.”

Thomas grinned.

Virgil pressed the button.

And the room exploded into white light.

Warmth filled his bones and the pain eased. Not completely, but enough. He took his first deep breath since the accident, and only had a twinge of pain. A great hot wind rushed through the room and a smell like a peppermint came with it.

The light faded.

Virgil blinked to clear his vision. There were a few thumps as the various Sides landed in wrinkled piles on the floor around the floor.

“THAT WAS SO SCARY. HE WAS LIKE WOOSH AND THEN IT WAS DARK AND THEN IT WAS LIGHT AND THE FLOOR WENT AWAY AND-”

“Patton, you are shouting in my ear.”

Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. They were alright. They’d made it back.

Patton and Logan helped each other up, looking disheveled, but otherwise no worse for wear. They put on their glasses, frowned, switched glasses, and then looked around the room. Behind them, Roman lay sprawled out on the floor. “Oh dear lords, that trip has wounded me mightily.”

“You are perfectly well, Roman,” Logan answered. He blinked owlishly at Virgil and then gave him a sharp nod. “I see we all made it. Wonderful. Shocking, but wonderful.” The room had not been restored entirely, but some of the furniture had disappeared. It was generally better looking than it had been a moment ago, which was all Virgil could ask for.

Virgil stepped down toward them but froze mid-step.

“Woah,” said a voice. “I mean, woah.”

All of the sides glanced toward the speaker, who gave them a nervous smile. “Uh, so this is so weird to actually see you, but… I’m Thomas. Nice to meet you, I guess?”

Virgil’s stomach dropped.

Chapter 2

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fanfic-collection · 7 years

Text

Loki x Reader: The Valkyrie

Some self indulgent nonsense, feel free to not like it, I don’t even know how I feel about it. Basically a drabble that I had been thinking about since before Thor 3 had a release date and there was a Valkyrie in the movie - I always pictured them with wings but yea, I like the idea of the wings being a magical illusion, but I might add more if people think it’s worth it, like I said, kinda self indulgent (no spoilers, this is an old idea that I finally wrote)

“Allfather,” A guard called to Loki. Loki turned still working on getting used to the title in his current disguise. “Have you forgotten?” The guard smiled placatingly, perhaps amused that Odin might be growing old and forgetful.

Loki hesitated, “It seems I must have, what is it?”

“Your monthly visit to the prisoner is today.”

'Prisoner?' Loki wondered inwardly, “Ah, yes, of course. Take me to them.”

The guard bowed. “A little out of it today, Allfather?” He smiled as he straightened up.

Loki chuckled, “Perhaps I am not as young as I used to be. Lead the way.”

The guard motioned to several other guards to join them, leading Loki to the dungeons, deep in the bowels of Asgard. They walked for ages, far past any of the regular prisoners. Loki felt a twinge of unease, passing his old prison and that familiar doubt that he might be found out crawled up his spine. Yet Loki was a master of lies, and he knew better than to give into such doubts.

They finally reached a massive set of iron doors, the prison itself hidden from view.

“Here we are Allfather,” The guard said cheerily.

Loki walked up to the door and rested his hand on the iron, curious that such thick metal would be placed instead of the usual clear magical barriers. “What curious decisions I make sometimes,” Loki muttered as Odin.

The guard chuckled, “Yes, well, you were adamant that she remain in darkness.”

'She?' Loki mused, even more unusual, and yet, women were certainly as capable of breaking Asgard's laws as any man. Examining the door, Loki saw that it could only be opened with Gungnir, Odin's magical spear. Loki rarely went anywhere without the spear and this time was glad for it. He raised the weapon and placed it into the keyhole.

The doors swung inwardly without a sound. The room itself was pitch black, and for all Loki could be sure, it might even be empty. For a moment he wondered if this was some type of trick, that he had been found out and they intended to lock him away; yet the guard stared at him earnestly, waiting for Odin to do something.

Loki inclined his head and entered into the cell. The doors swung shut behind him and he was left in darkness. Loki blinked several times, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the gloom, an ability that he had magically learned, to see in even the blackest of nights. Accepting that the guards weren't going to follow him, he cast a glowing light on his hand and raised it to illuminate the room.

A single prisoner knelt at the far end of the room, bound in chains. Her neck was chained in place, arms pinned towards the ground that she might barely move, and a blindfold placed on her face. Her clothing was in tatters, revealing much of her skin, and her hair was dirty and ratty but it was unmistakable who she was. You.

“No.” Loki whispered in Odin's voice, rushing to your side.

Your head jerked up as you heard Odin's utterance. Struggling in vain, you tried to pull away but his rough hand had already touched your cheek. You hissed angrily, “Come to mock again, old man?” You snarled.

“I know you.” Loki whispered.

“No shit,” You snarled, “You come here every month to gloat, to demand I change my ways, to curse my own decisions.”

“And you don't?”

“What does it look like, you fool? Have you gone senile in your old age?” You struggled against the chains but you were so weak, near starvation and years of solitude had robbed you of your strength.

“You were the Valkyrie imprisoned by Thanos...” Loki trailed off.

Loki could sense you rolling your eyes beneath the blindfold. “Figured that out, have you?”

“And I locked you away?”

“Have you truly gone mad, old man?” You spat angrily.

“You were imprisoned with me,” Loki coughed, “with my son.”

“Yes, and as you well know, it is my charge to protect the crown, but with Loki dead to you, I forsook my duties. Your words. Why am I even reminding you, you should know this. Are you an impostor?” You leaned forward squinting your eyes, as though if you tried hard enough, you could see past the blindfold.

“You kept me alive.” Loki whispered, using his real voice, the illusion fading away. The room was magically concealed, no outsider could see within and Loki was certain of it.

Your voice faltered, “What treachery is this, old man?” You tried to snarl but the fight was taken out of you, the blow too low for you to have seen it coming.

Loki knelt down before you, slowly removing the blindfold, his true form visible.

You blinked several times, the rush of bright light blinding you a second time.

Loki cupped your cheek, his thumb smoothing over the soft skin. You pulled away, tears rolling down your cheeks as you shook your head.

“No, it can't be, you mocked me, told me he died.” You shook your head viciously, “You wretched old man, what type of torture is this?”

“It's not a torture,” Loki whispered, “it's me, I'm real. What happened?”

You closed your eyes, resigned to whatever madness had befallen you. “I was a valkyrie, protecting some far off land, important to Odin. I saw the younger prince falling to his death and I knew I had to act. Catching him, saving him, but I failed, we both fell into the clutches of the mad titan. And Loki,” You trailed off sadly, “Loki was broken, warped by the infinity stone, forced into madness and I was left behind unable to protect him as a valkyrie should.”

“You did protect me, you tried harder than any other has.”

“But I failed. Loki was lost and the tortures... but Loki he broke free of Thanos' control and I was able to escape, but I had already failed. This is my punishment.” You hung your head, “I deserve this. I could not save Loki.”

“But I lived, love, I survived, and I was brought back to Asgard, in chains granted, but alive. How did you fail?”

“It was already too late for you, Odin, I should have acted sooner and not abandoned my post, but what was worse, my greater crime...” You blinked hard, trying to make out the details of Loki, your vision still fuzzy, unused to the light after so long. “I loved him.” You smiled weakly, “I loved your son, the one you damned and cursed and refused as your son and that is what caused me to abandon my post. Are you happy you old wretch? I've admitted it to you.”

Loki leaned forward his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss.

You hissed and pulled away, headbutting him as hard as you could. Loki reeled back, stumbling away from you, “What was that for?”

“Odin you disgusting old man!” You roared.

“Look at me!” Loki yelled, cupping your face with his hands, gazing into your half blind eyes. “I'm not Odin, do you understand? Do you hear me? Please.” Loki's eyes welled with tears, “I loved you as well, since I was a child and I met you while you trained to join the other valkyrie. I have always loved you and...” Loki hesitated, “I need someone to know. I am so alone as Odin, Frigga is dead, Thor is gone, no one knows.” Loki hung his head still cupping your cheeks.

You struggled to raise your arm against the chains, hand brushing Loki's cheek. “Loki?”

Loki looked up at you, eyebrows doing that thing you loved when he was upset or nervous. “Now do you believe me?”

“God of lies and mischief?”

Loki chuckled, nodding his head, “Yes, the very one.”

You lunged at him, arms wrapping tight around his lean body, face buried in his shoulder as you sobbed. “You died, though, the guards told me as they gave me my meals.”

“It is quite hard to kill a trickster.” Loki replied as he nuzzled his face against your neck, his hand stroking through your hair.

“Come, let's get you out of here.”

#Loki x reader #drabble

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afjakwritesarchive · 7 years

Text

NWC #5

Pairing: USUK Words: 2,904 Rating: T AU: Highschool Genre: Romance/fluff Summary: After Alfred gets drunk at a party, unexpected feelings come to light. A/N: Literally just a bunch of fluff lmao.

Arthur Kirkland hated parties.

Everything about them was too much for him. The deafening, hyper-auto-tuned music seemed to strike harshly at his eardrums as if someone were pounding upon a gong, and the crowds of rowdy, inebriated teenagers acting ridiculously idiotic did nothing to help his poor opinion of such gatherings. Arthur was not one for people in general, let alone those whose life goal seemed to be getting as shitfaced as humanly possible. In his eyes, most of those who attended what some of his classmates liked to call 'ragers' were either incredibly bored, incredibly stupid, or both.

And yet, despite his overwhelming hatred for the mere concept of an obnoxious, alcohol-fueled gathering of his classmates, Arthur had shown up to Francis' Bonnefoy's sickeningly loud house party just after midnight, a bottle of vodka gripped tightly in his pale hand. He'd barely opened the door (accidentally hitting two ridiculously drunk party goers with it as he did so) when the Frenchman swooped down upon him, slipping an an arm across his shoulder.

"Ah, so you decided to come!" Francis exclaimed. "I cannot say I'm surprised, though you did spend the better part of the day reassuring me that you absolutely would not." He said, leering at the Brit as he lead him through the living room, currently filled to the brim with people.

"I know what I said, frog. Say anything more about it and I'll castrate you." Arthur bit out in reply, frowning as he whipped his head around in order to scan the crowd.

Francis watched him for a moment, quirking an eyebrow in amusement. "Don't worry, he is around here somewhere."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Arthur replied, annoyed.

"Of course you don't." Francis said with a roll of his eyes. He pushed some of his impeccable, wavy blond hair over his shoulder and gestured to a table covered entirely by different bottles. "Let me make you a drink!"

Arthur's thick brows furrowed. "I'm not drinking tonight. But, erm, I did bring this," he informed as he raised the bottle of vodka in his hand, "just in case. I didn't know if everyone was supposed to bring a drink or if you would have enough, but there you are, in any case."

Francis accepted the bottle with a teasing smile. "How very generous of you, Arthur."

"Belt up," Arthur huffed, turning away from the table to face the crowd. "Christ. How many people did you invite?"

Francis turned, their shoulders bumping as they observed the mass of teenagers on the makeshift dancefloor. "Not too many, only two-hundred something. I left most of the inviting up to them—I simply told everyone to bring along as many people as they wanted."

"Well, they certainly did. I can't believe that you actually like seeing your house get torn apart by a bunch of..." Arthur abruptly trailed off, loosing his train of thought as his eyes caught on the staircase.

Alfred Jones bounded down the stairs with his signature megawatt smile, a red solo cup in one hand. His big, utterly mesmerizing blue eyes took stock of the crowd before returning to the face of the person beside him, and he ran a hand through his silky golden hair. He stumbled a step when he and his companion—a man named Antonio who had graduated the year before—reached the bottom of the stairs and made their way into the crowd, his face clearly visible as he walked due to his staggering height.

Arthur's eyes followed him intently, despite being aware of how rude it was to stare. No matter what he tried, he was irresistibly drawn to Alfred Jones, and whenever the man was near, it was impossible to tear his eyes away from the man.

Very suddenly, those bright baby blues met Arthur's deep green, and the Brit jolted in surprise. He watched Alfred's face light up at the sight of him, and the American immediately raised an arm in the air in order to wave at him. Arthur even thought he heard that melodious voice calling out a 'hey, Artie!' over the ear-splitting music. Now bright red in the face, Arthur raised a hand up in response, giving the blond a rare smile. He mouthed 'hello' as he watched the American push his way through the crowd to meet him.

"Ah, I think I see something that needs my attention," Francis said, and nudged Arthur's shoulder with a knowing smile before taking his leave.

"Yo, Artie!" Alfred called as he approached, moving to stand beside Arthur. "I'm, like, totally surprised to see you here, man. Never seen you at a party before," he said, beaming.

Arthur's freckled cheeks burned and he looked down in order to compose himself before raising his head to meet Alfred's eyes. "W-Well, I... had a change of heart," he said stupidly, having been robbed of any intelligent thought due to the American's close proximity.

"Well, I'm glad ya did," Alfred said as he raised his cup to his lips and took a sip.

Arthur felt his blush spread to the tips of his ears and cursed himself for going weak in the knees at the comment.

"Truth be told, I always kinda wished you'd show up to a party," Alfred said. "Y'know, 'cause we only ever really see each other at school and all."

Arthur stared at him, dumbfounded for a moment. Alfred looked down at him with a soft, sincere smile, and, needing something to say, Arthur blurted the first thing that came to mind: "I-I was looking forward to seeing you tonight as well!" He exclaimed with far too much enthusiasm, immediately wanting to smack himself.

Alfred's eyes went wide in surprise and his smile turned into a wide grin. "Aww, Artie, I knew you loved me!" He exclaimed, teasing the Brit over the joking antagonism that had begun between the pair in their freshman year.

Alfred Jones had transferred to Arthur's school four months into their freshman year and had immediately won the hearts of almost every student and staff member at their school. He quickly gained a reputation as a funny, obnoxious, and somewhat ditzy boy with a heart of gold and an exterior to match. He was absolutely gorgeous, and many of his classmates would vie for his attention in the years to come. However, Alfred was also a bit of a troublemaker, and was widely known for skipping class and pulling pranks around the school.

As the student council president and resident stick in the mud, Arthur Kirkland had vowed to put an end to Alfred Jones' constant rule-breaking, and had successfully issued detentions to the blond on many occasions. However, as time wore on, Arthur found himself less and less resistant to the American's charms. They'd long since buried the hatchet between them, and the pair were known throughout the school for their odd and often entertaining relationship. As was expected of him, Arthur was always ready to catch Alfred when the American attempted to create mayhem, but the true animosity between them had dissipated. In its place was a friendship often characterized by joking insults and witty banter shot back and forth between the pair.

However, as time wore on, not only did Arthur grow less irritated by Alfred, but actually quite fond of the American. Though Arthur knew his initial fondness for Alfred was reciprocated, it was also clear to him that his fondness for the American had continued to grow. Now, in his senior year, he had more or less come to terms with the fact that he was irrevocably in love with Alfred, though this fact remained hidden from the sunny American.

"Oh, shut it! You know I can't stand you, Jones." Arthur replied.

Alfred laughed loudly. "Hey, I'm gonna go get a drink. You want anything?" He asked.

Arthur looked over to the table where a bowl of punch sat, surrounded by various bottles of alcohol, soda, and juice. Several of his classmates were currently huddled around it, sloppily pouring different beverages into their plastic cups. Arthur made a face as he watched one of the boys pour the remaining contents of a bottle of vodka into the punch bowl before walking away, his arm slung over a girl's shoulder.

"No, thank you," the Brit said.

"Alright," Alfred nodded. "Wanna come with me anyway?" He offered.

Arthur blinked, surprised. Then, red-faced, he nodded and followed Alfred to the table, unable to keep the smile from his face at the knowledge that Alfred wanted to talk to him more. Certainly the American was friends with just about everyone at the party, and the thought that he wanted to talk to Arthur out of all of his potential options flattered the Brit more than he was willing to admit.

Alfred filled his cup using the keg beside the table, downing it's contents instantly. "You're not gonna get drunk?" He asked, raising his voice in order to combat the loud music blasting from the speakers nearby.

"God, no. I haven't been drunk in ages, and I don't intend to any time soon!" Arthur called back in return, shaking his head. "I have a reputation to uphold, after all!"

"Yeah, wouldn't anyone to think you were actually fun or anything!" Alfred teased with a playful grin.

"Yes, and being fun requires idiotic behavior, which explains perfectly why you are viewed as being fun by the majority of our peers!" Arthur replied, equally playful in his response.

"Whatever, Artie! If I was really an idiot, you'd've given up on me a looong time ago!" Alfred laughed.

It was a little past one in the morning when Arthur began to wonder if Alfred's words from earlier in the night were true. Alfred was currently hanging off his shoulders, far past drunk and singing along to Toto's "Africa" as loudly as possible into Arthur's ear. The Brit huffed, trying his best not to stumble as he walked awkwardly to his car with Alfred still latched onto him.

"Alright, alright, get in the car. You're going home," Arthur commanded, opening the door to the backseat for the American.

"No way! I can—'m fine, man! 'Nother round!" Alfred slurred loudly.

"Keep your voice down, you'll wake up the whole street!" Arthur admonished despite being aware of the loud music still blasting from the house.

"'M not goin' home, man! My folks'll, like, totally kill me!"

"Well, you shouldn't have gotten drunk if you didn't wanna deal with the consequences of your actions," Arthur said as he shrugged Alfred off and turned to face him, fixing him with a stern look.

Alfred shuffled closer then, leaning in. Arthur took a step back, hitting his car. Alfred stumbled forward a step, placing his hand on the top of the car to steady himself. "But that's why I got drunk, so I could kiss ya without worrying about the consequences," he said in a low tone, ducking his head down.

Arthur's heart began to beat rapidly and he almost leaned in, only to pause when he realized what he was doing. Unthinking, he clamped his hand over the American's mouth, making the taller male freeze, blue eyes widened in shock.

"Y-You're way too drunk, obviously," Arthur said, carefully pushing the American back. "You can stay at my place for tonight if you're that worried about getting caught, but I won't allow you try things like that on me again."

Alfred paused. Then, looking somewhat dejected, he ducked down into the car and flopped into the backseat. Breathing a sigh that was both relieved and disappointed, Arthur turned around and carefully shut the door behind the American. Afterward, he got into the car and endured Alfred's obnoxious singing for another ten minutes before he finally reached his home.

"Dude, I always forget how fucking big your house is. That bitch is huuuuuuuge," Alfred hollered as he clambered out of Arthur's car and attempted to stumble up the steps to the Brit's front door.

Arthur quickly turned off his car and rushed after the American, grabbing his arm and helping to guide him the door. After fumbling with his keys for a moment, during which Alfred hummed the Jeopardy theme song, the pair was inside and stumbling awkwardly up the grand staircase that lead to the second floor.

"Dude, like, don'tcher parents care that I'm wasted as fuck?" Said Alfred.

"They've been away on business in London for a week now, and will be for another three, so they'll never know. Even if they were here, I can't imagine they would care all that much. As long as I grow up to be successful, they don't care what I do." Arthur said nonchalantly.

"Who takes care of you?" Alfred asked, looking shocked.

"I take perfectly good care of myself!" Arthur huffed indignantly, shoving open the door to his bedroom.

"Nah, l-like, emotionally, man! Like, when you're sad and stuff. I mean, like, y-yer folks're always gone, so who helps ya?"

Arthur paused a moment before answering. "I can do that myself, too," he muttered.

Alfred took Arthur by the collar of his shirt, tugging him closer until they were practically pressed against one another. "I can take care of you," he said, a surprising amount of seriousness in his glazed-over eyes.

"Not when you're this far gone," Arthur replied with a roll of his eyes. "Now, come. Lay down, and make sure you're on your side."

Alfred did as he was told, flopping down onto Arthur's bed. After clambering around for a moment in a clumsy attempt to get under the covers (which Arthur watched with amusement) he turned on his side and burrowed down underneath the covers. "Artie, you smell good."

"Go to sleep, git," Arthur said with a roll of his eyes.

"Fuck, dude," was the first thing that Alfred said when he woke the next day to Arthur setting a glass of water down on the bedside table.

Arthur raised on thick brow at him, green eyes twinkling with thinly veiled amusement as the American sat up, groaned, and promptly downed all the water in one go. Once the American set the glass down, he flopped back down upon Arthur's bed.

"Dude, you're a total lifesaver, y'know that? I owe you." He said as he threw his arm over his eyes to block out the sun.

"Trust me, love, your current suffering is more than enough in the way of repayment." Arthur chuckled as he set a plate of charred eggs down in front of Alfred.

Alfred sniffed, slowly looking toward the plate. His stomach churned at the sight of the blackened food, and he resisted the urge to make a face. Instead, he conjured up what he hoped was a believable excuse: "thanks, man, but I'm totally sick right now from last night. Don't think I can eat anything."

Arthur nodded, accepting this answer. "Alright," he said.

"Hey, Arthur?" Alfred said.

"Yes?" The Brit asked.

"I wasn't kidding, you know."

Arthur frowned in confusion. "What?"

"What I said last night. I got drunk so I could flirt with you without feeling like an idiot." Alfred said, meeting Arthur's eyes as he spoke.

The Brit felt his heart stutter, pausing in his motions in order to stare in astonishment at the American. He intended to reply and allowed his mouth to fall open, but found himself unable to produce any sound as he gazed upon the man he'd fallen madly in love with.

"And I meant it when I said that I would take care of you, too. I know you don't want me, but if you ever change your mind—"

Arthur jolted back to life at this, interrupting the American. "Hold on, now! Don't want you? Where in the hell would you get an idea like that?"

Now it was Alfred's turn to be surprised. "I mean, I tried to kiss you yesterday and you put a hand over my mouth, so..."

"Because you were drunk! What kind of man would I be if I took advantage of you when you were so wasted? From the way you were acting, I didn't think you'd remember much of anything about last night!" Arthur exclaimed in shock.

"So you do like me?" Alfred asked then, an adorably hopeful look on his face that made Arthur melt.

The Brit felt heat rising to his cheeks and he nodded slowly. "God, you really are an idiot if you haven't noticed the fact that I've been a bloody fool for you all this time." Arthur teased.

Alfred laughed in return and crawled to the end of the bed, grinning at the man. "You won't stop me if I try to kiss you now, will you?" He asked.

Arthur responded by taking his collar and wrenching him forward into a passionate kiss.

#mine #text #my writing #usuk #aph #aph fic #usuk fic #hetalia #hetalia fic #here y'all go!!#nwc

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thehorde · 7 years

Text

Shutdown

AN: Many years ago I promised myself I would never stoop to writing fan fiction about real people. Well. whoops.

Pairings: Naw man I am awkward af at that stuff.

Warnings: Uhh, panic in a car accident, I suppose? Some slightly graphic injuries. Oh, profanity.