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twignotstick · 2 months

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Broken Brothers (and How to Fix Them)

Part 2 💙 | <- Part 1 🧡

Note: This story is based on @cupcakeslushie 's Empyrean Weeping au. These characters are not my own, and this story is in no way canon to the main story. I wrote this as my love letter to the story and the characters. Especially April :)

Tags: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, ROTTMNT, Leo & April, NOT MY CHARACTERS, Empyrean Weeping AU, recovery (i have a sneaking suspicion that will apply to the whole fic,,), talking it out because we're adults, movies, comics, they're becoming friends

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): Mention of violence (its one sentence, but figure I should still put it here :P)

Words: 1,588 (there's less setup this time)

Summary: April was able to figure out her first brother easily. Now, she gets three more, with a couple more issues to worry about.

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As soon as she even saw Leo for the first time, she knew he wouldn't be as easy to get along with as Mikey was. Mikey was always so open, so bright, so bouncy. Leo, in comparison, was still, dull, and closed off. He had just come from a terrible ninja clan, beaten by his own master. It was kind of warranted.

Any time April would enter the medbay where they were keeping Leo, he would silently stare a hole in her soul. His face had hardly loosened from the scowl he had adopted, and any time April would get near, it would just harden more. Even so, April kept trying to get close. Despite Raph's concerns for her physical health. (And with Mikey's encouragement, because he was happy to enable the potentially dangerous behavior.)

One afternoon, she decided to bring a ton of her Jupiter Jim comics to read. The boys needed a break from watching their somewhat-volatile-yet-severely-wounded brother, and April knew he wouldn't talk to her. So, once she settled down in her chair a few feet away from the bed where Leo was scowling, she pulled out the comic she'd left off on: Jupiter Jim Breaks Newton's Fourth Law, Volume 8.

After a few minutes of reading, April couldn't help but notice a change in Leo out of her peripheral vision. He wasn't staring at her anymore, but at her comic. This glare wasn't full of discontent and uncertainty. Instead, it was filled with emotions he was trying (and failing) to hide- curiosity and excitement.

“You read Jupiter Jim?”

Leo was surprised by the sudden question and whipped his gaze away, a slight flush coming to his cheeks. “No.”

April's journalism senses were kicking in. There was a story here. “Why not?”

“Things like that are…” Leo's posture tightened, almost as if the thing he was about to say wasn't what he believed, “useless distractions.”

“I don't think so,” April said, shifting her chair a little closer to the bed. “I think it's important to have distractions sometimes. Y'know, during finals, when you're sick, when you've got a broken arm…” Subtly, April started slipping the comic in her hands to the bed. “You can read it, if you want.”

“No. I can't.”

Leo looked surprisingly aggressive when he responded. He seemed to catch his unwarranted anger and mumbled, “I still haven't read 6 or 7.”

“Oh!” April sat up straight and grabbed her bag from the floor. “I've got the whole arc up to 9 in here, I thiiink-” Once she had fished out the comics she was looking for, she placed them on the corner of the bed by Leo's feet.

The slider stared at the comics like they'd offended him.

“...well?”

“I-I can't. I can't hold them with my arm-”

“I can hold it for you!” April said. “I can turn the pages whenever you need.”

Leo finally looked back at April with that trademark scowl he always had. “What's your game, woman?”

April smiled. “No games, just trying to make you feel comfortable in your new home.”

Leo huffed. “This isn't my home.”

“It's where your family is, isn't it? Isn't that what matters?” April asked genuinely.

Leo looked back down at the comics. His eyes softened while the rest of his expression remained, and he picked Volume 6 up with his good arm. He opened it and silently began to read.

They both sat and read for a while. April noticed Leo struggling to turn pages sometimes, but she didn't dare try to help him. She thought he might bite her hand if she did. He was still scowling at the comic as he read, but it looked less like a scowl of anger and more one of concentration.

When he got done with Volume 6, April spoke. “So, who's your favorite character?”

“...JJ, obviously.” Leo slowly reached out and grabbed the next volume.

“Seriously? That's so basic.”

Leo scoffed. “Really? Then who's your favorite character?”

“Atomic Lass, obvi,” April said, flipping her hair for emphasis.

“Atomic Lass?! Her personality is literally just ‘woman’.”

“Uh, yeah, and that's the point?! Atomic Lad is just ‘man’. Haven't you watched Jupiter Jim on the Atomic Sub-Moon?”

Leo's shoulders lowered. “...watched?”

April sprung up and put her arms on the bed, looking down at Leo in shock. “YOU'VE NEVER WATCHED A JUPITER JIM MOVIE?!”

“NO?! THEY MAKE THOSE?!”

“THAT'S IT!” April grabbed her bag from the floor and moved it over to the side of Leo's bed. “You, keep reading. I'll get one of the boys to watch you. I need to head home and get my box set. We are having a movie night. Understand?!”

“Y-yes ma'am!”

“We can start with Last Trip to the Moon 1, but then we are watching Atomic Sub-Moon, I DO NOT care if the context is lost, you'll figure it out.”

“O-okay?!”

“RAPH!”

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

“So… the real Atomic Lad and Atomic Lass are dead?!”

“Yes! And the Atomic Lad and Lass we know are-”

“People carrying on the legacy, who the Atomic people believe are still the originals?!”

“YES! That's why they never use their real names, that's why-”

“Why they act like Barbie and Ken for space…”

“Now you get it!” April leaned back into her bean bag and put her arms behind her head. The movie night had gone way better than expected. They had to set up the best pillow pile they could, since they didn't have a sofa big enough for everybody. In the end, April and Leo stayed in bean bags and watched the movies while the others went about their day. It took a minute for Leo to get into it, but once the moon buggy showed up, he was hooked. For the first time, April saw a child in Leo.

“So, have I won you over with an emotional, heart breaking backstory?” April asked slyly.

“Uh, no.”

April's eyes snapped to the slider. “WHAT?! What do you meeean?! I don't get how you like JJ more than Atomic Lass!”

“Well, he's the main character for a reason, for one.” Leo took another bite of the pizza slice he had been eating. “And second, he's the one who always gets everyone out of the bad stuff. He's the hero, and he isn't scared to sacrifice for his crew.”

“But, consider this, Atomic Lass has a giant rocket powered hammer, Leo.”

“JJ doesn't need a weapon. He's got the nerve pinch technique.”

“They never use the nerve pinch technique, though!” April whined.

“That doesn't mean he doesn't have it!”

“I never thought someone could be as dorky as April,” Raph said from where he stood a few feet away from the bean bag setup. “And yet, here we are.”

“Wh- dorky?!” Leo scoffed, looking at Raph incredulously.

“Yeah, dorky!” Mikey popped out from behind Raph's shoulder. “Y'know, nerdy? Geeky? Criiinge?”

Leo's face flushed and he curled in on himself, stammering.

“Hey, y'all are just jealous that we're bonding,” April defended. “If you gave JJ a chance, you'd like it too.”

Raph and Mikey both shut up quick. April waved them off, and they hurried out to the kitchen again, saying they were “getting more snacks”.

Now that they were alone, April looked over at Leo again. “They're stupid. Can't appreciate good media.”

“Good media?” Leo asked. “You mean B-Movies and old comics?”

“Yeah, man.” April grabbed a blanket and tossed it over at Leo, making him fumble to keep it off his face with his good arm. “It makes you feel good, doesn't it?”

Leo looked down and contemplated. “I mean… yeah. But I-”

“Shouldn't?”

Leo took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“You don't have to worry about what you should or shouldn't do here, Leo,” April said, sitting more upright to look at Leo better. “You do what you want. What makes you feel good. That's all you should worry about when you're home. Doing what you want and feeling good.”

Leo turned away, looking at the TV, paused at the end of the credits.

“If it means anything, this really made me feel good,” April said. “It's cool to have somebody to talk about ‘nerd stuff’ with. And I'm glad you liked the movies. Atomic Sub-Moon is one of my favorites. Not as good as Pluto Vacation 4, but good.”

“There's more?” Leo asked timidly.

“Oh, there's loads more!” April grinned. “There's like a jillion Last Trip to the Moons, there's Jupiter Jim and the Overly Complicated Magic System, Jupiter Jim Squared Minus One, Jupiter Jim Breaks into Federal Prison, there's tons! We can have more movie nights, if you want.”

Leo looked at the blanket laying over him, grabbing it and rubbing it between his fingers. “I think… I think I want that.”

April pumped her fist. “Sweet! This means I've still got time to win you over to the Atomic Side.”

Leo let a single laugh escape his lips. “Yeah, not happening. Jim is the best, I don't care what you say. Even Red Fox is better than Atomic Lass.”

“AH! HOW DARE YOU?!” April stood up and looked down at Leo. “Just you wait, nonbeliever. Just wait until I show you the Atomic Lass spinoff comic. Or the Atomic Lass movies. You will change.”

“I wouldn't bet on it.”

“Oh YEAH?! I will bet on it. I'll bet on it so hard, you can call me Troy Bolton.”

Leo's eyes nervously shifted from side to side, centering back on April. “...who?”

“...YOU'VE NEVER SEEN HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL?!”

“NO?!?”

“RAPH!”

○●○●○●○

Yippee! Part 2! Part 3 is giving me more... issues... so it might take a minute to come out. But its coming! 🟪🐢

I really leaned into Leo's inner dorkiness here. I just thought him and April bonding over their obsession with an insane astronaut man was so cute. <3 (This is also why I'm so excited for the rest of Leo's arc in the actual comic! GAH!!!)

Congrats to everyone who won the first round of @tmntaucompetition voting! Very excited for the next round coming up :)

Part 3 -> 💜

#tmnt #tmnt au #rottmnt #tmnt fanfiction #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt au propaganda #tmnt separated au #separated au #tmnt leo #tmnt april #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #twig writes

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lexinympho · 1 year

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Void

Kunigami Rensuke x gn!reader

Summary: Kunigami learns the hard way that a relationship with you could only last so long when neither of you have the time to maintain it.

WC: 5.1k

Tags/Warnings: Angst to hopeful ending, breakups, self-destructive behavior, Chigiri being a real one, Bachira being a sleepy one.

A/N: What started off as a drabble turned into a full on fic, so here ya go. Expect inaccuracies because I am not an expert on anything and I added more things as I wrote. This was going to be straight up heavy angst at first btw, but I changed my mind, so imagine how that would've went lol.

Kunigami always heard people say the breakup is the worst part.

They don't too often say the recovery from the breakup is worse by comparison, easily combining the two when, in reality, they're totally different experiences.

At least they are to him.

Before the breakup, life with you was all he could ask for and more; learning to love all that is you was an experience he wouldn't trade for anything in the universe. He memorized aspects of you that many would see as flaws, your morning routine mingled with his to make for both lively and quaint memories worth looking back on, and cherished the little instances of adoration that outweigh the occasional disagreement. He'd avert his gaze and lower his head whenever his friends would light heartedly jest about his devotion to you, something so evident in the way he'd cut a conversation short when his phone twitches in his pocket.

Meanwhile, you were the opposite. Where he'd look away from embarrassment, you'd look it in the eye and greet it with a bashful yet thankful smile, glad to feel this way over someone you hold near and dear to your heart. You'd be much more open with your affection than Kunigami, something one could think would put him off when showing affection wasn't an easy feat for him in public, but it wasn't a problem to him. There wasn't any serious problem with you or him for the three years you've been together.

Until your lives outside of "us" came knocking at the door.

You were happily doing better at work and spent more time there in the process, while Kunigami spent substantially more time with soccer. Maybe the stresses of certain teams being too good at picking out weaknesses got to him, or maybe it was a certain maneuver that made the physician force him to chill out a little with the rough play. He already didn't see you enough due to the time constraints and demand of matches, and with you becoming busier, the most he could do was immerse himself in the regular season.

Perhaps a little too well though. He'd rarely come home to you before you were asleep, and similarly, would be up and out before you knew he was home. Calls became shorter for time to focus, texts became scarcer, and effort was being put towards many different things aside from you.

You both felt bad for neglecting and feeling neglected by each other, but you especially felt forgotten by your boyfriend, and rightfully so. Kunigami, who's been nothing but a big sweetheart to you in all the time you've known him for, had begun choosing soccer over you. But in his mind, this will blow over after some time; he's just going through another rough patch with you because you're both tied up with your own things. Deep down, he knows there's something amiss, that there's a chance it won't simply blow over and will lead to a huge confrontation. How can he end that foreseen confrontation the same way he ends the occasional disagreements?

A true case of knowing when something might be wrong, but not quite knowing how to approach that something.

You apparently figured out your own solution when you greeted him at the front door one night in a stern manner, "Rensuke."

It's been a while since he came home to see you awake, and he's not sure if that's a good or bad thing right now. You aren't dressed for bed either, even though it's nearly midnight, so that should've been a red flag right there, but his mind only saw yellow. "Hey, I'm surprised you're awake," he greets you with a smile, cautious, weary, and genuine.

"Couldn't sleep," you say a bit distractedly, mentally preparing yourself as you follow Kunigami to the bedroom.

"Oh yeah? What time did you get off?" He casually makes conversation and drops his bag off.

"About an hour ago. Look," you inhale, which gets his attention, "we need to talk."

He finally looks at you, sees more than your attire, looks beyond the gleam of the promise ring he gave you so long ago, and sees the hesitation in your stance, in the way your arms are crossed and your shoulders are slightly drawn in. Your frown contains various emotions just waiting to be deciphered, and "we need to talk" became the red flag he recognized.

That was the sound of someone planning to breakup with him.

The denial kicked in right away though, and he asked nervously, "What's wrong?" An idiotic question, because what on Earth could've been right recently?

"It's about my job."

What happened with your job? Were you fired? Did someone say something to you?

"I got a better position."

His brain processes that information and he smiles, "That's good!" Why don't you look happy about it though?

"I'll have to move for it though."

The smile slips to the floor with a harsh thud, "...What?"

You cruelly repeated yourself to say your job wanted you to move for a bit to the other side of the world, and that you were considering taking them up on that offer.

Considering.

"So...you haven't made your mind yet?" He asks with optimism, unintentionally making it clear what he'd prefer you to do.

"Kind of, I don't know." You tug at the hem of your shirt when you began feeling the guilt creep in, "I was thinking of taking the offer at first."

"Before you talked to me about it?" His jacket feels too hot in the relatively comfortable room.

"I just said I was thinking about it," you remind him with an unintended tone of voice. You knew the conversation wouldn't be peaceful, but you hoped he would've at least understood where you're coming from.

"That's no different from accepting it." He knows he was wrong to say that, but continues with anger as his fuel, "And why do you have to move for this? To America at that!"

"Rensuke, it's for my job!" You make it seem like I'm leaving you, was an unpleasant statement your mind conjured up, and you felt even guiltier for not being as opposed to it as you should be. You're tired from work, but his anguish is clear to see with nothing but two bedside lamps to light the room.

Neither you nor him are tired enough to avoid arguing though, and the back and forth yelling was bad to put it lightly. He says you sprung this onto him out of nowhere, you say he should check his phone. He says you aren't considering how he feels, you say he isn't considering how you feel. He says he only saw you at 4 of his games, you say you can't drop everything for him and that was never a problem before. He says you're being unfair to him, you say you're being fair to the both of you. A dictionary of words were thrown back and forth and your neighbors definitely heard a handful of them.

Breathless and exhausted, you lower your voice and say, "I'm going to my sister's place for now until I'm ready to go."

Desperation finally comes in to play, a weird thing since your sister lives close by, but the implications are what scare Kunigami. "You don't have to-"

"I do. I need to go," your voice becomes wobblier by the second, "because my head hurts and I can't deal with whatever's going on right now. I need a break."

A break. You need a break.

"What kind of break?" He asks, desperately in need of clarification as he watches you throw assorted necessities into a bag.

You pause like you intend to say something, but remain silent, a decision that doesn't give him the satisfaction he craves. All he hears is, 'Maybe we need to break up.'

The bargaining begins.

He breathes as though he ran around the house 5 times, "Don't you think you're overreacting?"

"No." You weakly put the last shirt you picked out into your bag, "I have things I want to do."

"I know that, but-"

"Then let me do those things without wondering when you'll pay attention to me." You refuse to look at him again, or you'll really reconsider what you're doing. Just imagining what he looks like right now is almost enough to do it. You abruptly stand with your bag and keys in hand to say one little, "Bye," and walk out of what you used to call home.

He didn't fight to stop you, couldn't really, even when it feels like a plethora of things were left unsaid. He never heard the utterance of words he feared hearing from you, but everything else was eerily similar and nearly brought him to his knees. The slam of two doors, a front door and a car door, made him flinch where he was left standing in silent shock. His eyes didn't start burning until he by chance looked to his left to see remnants of you strewn across the surface of the dresser, then focuses on the bottom of the mirror lined with stickers that each hold a memory, many of which he thought he'd share with you for a lifetime.

Processing all of that on his own, forcing himself to accept that you were serious when you poured your heart and mind out to him, is what actually made his knees give out on him. The pain from the impact didn't register to his nervous system, too occupied with the numbing sensation that dreadfully spread across his body like a rash, so strong that he didn't know he was trembling until he glanced at his own hands fighting a losing battle for control. His eyes stopped burning, but were no better blurred and flooded with a river of tears, accompanied by pathetically loud wails he never thought he'd be capable of pulling off.

All at once, the bedroom felt like too much; it's not just the mirror and the dresser anymore, it's the closet of jackets and trinkets, the minor scuffs and scratches where the bed grazed the walls, the framed photos, God the photos. He can't look at those anymore. Would you want them? Probably not.

All of your things are here, are you going to take everything with you?

Would you leave him with anything?

You already took his heart with you.

"Damn it..." he whispered, frustrated and lost as to what to do, slumped on the floor and repeatedly wiping endless tears from his cheeks. There was a fleeting thought of calling someone when he began spiraling down a rabbit hole of questions about what's bound to happen, but he never went through with it.

Whoever he called wouldn't be you, a thought only twisted his guts more.

And so began the recovery process.

-----

You once joked that you'd never be able to compete with soccer if he fell too hard for it. It doesn't sound so funny now when recalling one of the last things you said to him, 'You're so selfish!'

Typical of a forward.

They knew what they were signing up for, the indignation spat out.

You should've given them more, the despair whispered.

A sickening jumble of the two sat in his chest ever since then, the brunt of which he could never wholly direct to you. How could he, when he's the one who drove you away in the first place? His heart's been diced by a knife, one that he alone wielded when you attempted to take it from him with caring hands.

Without a real punching bag to attack though, the jumble pounced onto anything in its path.

He swore he wouldn't fall back into the bad habits of his teen years, but it was all too easy to break that promise when there was no one left to keep it with aside from himself. The riptide of convoluted emotions lashing around followed him into his plays, unfairly choosing everything and everyone around him as its target. His usually controlled aggression was no where to be seen, replaced with a truculent version of itself that gave little care to its teammates outside of using them for scoring instead of cooperating. Whatever neutral or friendly chemistry he had with his team was pushed to the gutter without a care; an unappealingly churlish front is what greeted everyone no matter how nice they tried to play.

Even though he's the one acting out, it hurts him, because he's not normally like this and you'd hate to see him this way. It's as though he's watching someone who isn't him live out his days for him in a manner he usually wouldn't, even on days in the past when everything seemed to go wrong.

The parts of his unwarranted behavior that hurt the most right now, however, are Isagi, Bachira and Chigiri, because they know. The team knew of you, but the guys knew you. They all met you, exchanged numbers after getting friendly, and practically had a front row seat to the growth of the relationship. Only now, they witnessed the decay of it on both sides from start to finish. They were there for every call, shortened and missed, for every text left on read or answered with little thought, and the handful of times Kunigami drunkenly (and stupidly) lamented about you being too busy for him. They even all made sure to tell him the one thing he hated to hear: It's not your fault they left.

Saying that it would've eventually happened given how adept you were with your job is an excuse. Why wouldn't it be his fault? He went so far to blame you for things you weren't at fault for, and took his frustrations out on you after pretty much ignoring you for weeks in a borderline passive aggressive fashion.

Isagi and Bachira learned early on to leave him to his own devices after receiving cold shoulders, but Chigiri-

"Kunigami."

The orange haired man depressingly looked up from his cleats and met Chigiri's sentimental gaze. He couldn't tell if it placated him or pissed him off because that's all he's been seeing for the past two weeks.

"What?" He gave a curt response and yanked his towel from around his neck.

Chigiri didn't seem phased by it, not surprising since he's always been the quickest to see through him in moments like these. He kept a pensive expression on and leaned against the lockers behind him, "Have you heard from them since...y'know?"

The weight of the world suddenly jumped onto his back and he could feel his energy leaving him all at once (he supposes he should be thankful he typically has enough energy for soccer to not fall behind despite how he's feeling). Starting a conversation about you is no different from throwing salt into a wound that's taking a millennia to heal. Yes it's been four weeks, no he doesn't feel any better, you're still a sensitive topic, and your absence gives him frostbite in a metaphorical sense (sometimes it seems literal). He feels like the world's biggest coward everytime you're mentioned because he subconsciously clams up to avoid talking about you or what happened.

He did hear from you once though, three whole days after you broke up with him. All you said, in a text of all things, is that you'd be slowly moving your stuff out when you had the time, to which he simply replied, 'okay.' A simple and piteous response conveying none of what's been going through his mind; you don't need him to cry you a river and make you feel bad for a decision you've done enough thinking over.

It's obvious you don't even want to see him in person everytime he comes back to his place and it looks like he'd been burglarized instead of visited by a loved one.

He's not sure he'd want to see you either, though for a different reason.

Kunigami remembers Chigiri standing by waiting for an answer, so he shoves his cleats into his bag and answers abruptly with less bite than he had seconds ago, "No. Why?"

"I haven't heard from them in a couple days, that's all." A moment of silence passes and he begins to speak again, "Did th-"

"You're more likely to hear from them than I am, just give them some time." Ready to stop talking, he promptly stands the moment the slider of the zipper reaches its destination and throws out a faint, "Later," on his way out of the nearly empty locker room.

"Kunigami."

He stops, glancing over his shoulder in acknowledgement.

There's a lot Chigiri wants to say, wanted to say before things got this far, because being hopeful on the sidelines did no favors for anyone. Believing things could work out is entirely different from knowing things could work out, and he knows Kunigami believed before he could know. The man is once again experiencing a moment of powerlessness, of not knowing what to do when all you know doesn't work, when your ambitions end up taking the priority that should've belonged to something else. It's evident in how he's taking his frustrations out in the only ways he knows how, in the perineal bags under his eyes resulting from the broken sleep cycles of either too much sleep or too little, and the numerous times he's lingered in the showers just to be alone.

Despite having seen him the whole time since the breakup, it's hard to think Kunigami's mildly better than he was last month.

"Take care of yourself," Chigiri chooses to say in sincerity, and this time, hopes his teammate reads the multiple underlying meanings behind those four words.

Kunigami does, and if he had it in himself he'd laugh at how blantly concerned Chigiri is being from the norm, but the invisible down coat of exhaustion he wears doesn't slip from his shoulders.

Because you would've said the same thing, you have said the same thing plenty of times. Your words had layers to them much like Chigiri's too, the dissimilarity being the 'I love you' and 'see you tonight' slipped in between the lines.

"Yeah," he speaks in a tone encompassing how depleted he feels. The depletion could also be a result of a skipped meal or two today, something his stomach suddenly reminds him of with pangs of hunger. He walks out before anyone else can catch him, using a swiftness that used to be reserved for rushing home to you and is now for rushing away from you in a sense.

"Did you get to talk?" Bachira asks curiously from around the corner once Kunigami leaves.

He was so quiet I forgot he was there. "Define 'talk'," Chigiri answers and prepares to leave as well.

Bachira easily caught up to him and pouted, "No dice, huh?"

"None whatsoever." The long haired man starts to vent a little as they walk out of the building, "Is it bad that I kind of want to hit him?"

"Yeah, a little," Bachira confirms through a yawn. "But I get it."

"Like, I know he's going through it, but I hate when he got like this back then."

"Mhm."

"And somehow it seems worse this time. I mean, I know why it's worse, but I wish his immediate reaction to something bad wasn't this." Chigiri lets out a groan of frustration once he finishes and wills himself to cool down at the sight of Bachira rubbing his eyes. "It's only 9."

"Can't help it," Bachira slurs while drowsiness works its magic on him.

A fond roll of his eyes is Chigiri's response as they reach his car and find Isagi waiting. "You're lucky I don't live that far from you guys."

A bitter memory naturally reappears in the back of his mind, one of the last time he visited Kunigami's place at your concerned request. He may not strike anyone as a person whose life has gone to shit, but the disarray of certain areas of his house are dead giveaways; the refrigerator was frighteningly scarce of its usual contents, an empty beer can or two sat in the sink (he still wonders why to this day), and clothes sat in a pile in the corner of his bedroom. It's enough to make Chigiri wonder if you're faring any better than him, but judging from your lack of communication with Kunigami since you left, he knows you aren't so perfect either.

-----

It's been a month.

And some days.

...Three months.

He walks around his house aimlessly and doesn't look too hard for what's missing from his home, doesn't want to, or he'll conduct a search for all the things you've taken and hope like an idiot that there's something left of you. The first step is not grasping for nonexistent straws after all, and he's managing as best as he can (he's long since stopped expecting to see you anytime he checks his phone).

The heat seeking missile of irritation that flew nonstop randomly ceased by this point, leaving him in a cold, empty husk of his former self. He wonders if he was better off basked in negativity because feeling nothing doesn't seem any better. The walks to his car from practice were uneventful. Shopping for basic needs was uneventful. The drives home were uneventful. Walking inside a house void of life was uneventful. Going to sleep in a king-sized bed by himself was uneventful.

Seeing his friends is a little breather from the uneventful cycle, but that's all it is, a breather.

His performance still holds up, but whatever exhilaration the sport brings him is often short-lived and eclipsed by the blank spot of someone who once shared that exhilaration in the past.

People who get over heartbreak this soon must not have been in love, he wistfully thinks to himself in bed. It's his day off, and he opted to stay home for once, a decision he's not sure was a good one. But he spent so many days swaddled by vicious self-hatred, constantly blaming himself and never knowing how to stop, that he rarely stayed put. He was always out for a game, at practice, the gym, stores, you name it, just to stay busy.

Ironic how soccer kept him the busiest while also being the thing that put a crack in the relationship.

Though he was stubborn about it towards the end of things, the fact remains that the schedules your lives revolved around conflicted greatly after some time, something that became especially evident once you moved in with him. He was left with little time for you, and vice versa; you had a life outside of his, and he had a life outside of yours.

Maybe we were bound to split up then, he thinks while admiring the sunrise for the first time in a while. There's nothing wrong with being passionate for something, you had things you wanted to do, and he supported you (still does). He never once viewed your independence as a negative, it was something he admired about you.

He sits up with a stretch and tries not to think about the copious amount of space he's free to use.

'I feel like a house sitter,' he recalls you whimpering through your desperation that night. He wanted to ask how long you'd been feeling that way, wanted to say that he'd do better for the 50th time. But he couldn't ask about something he should've had a rough idea of, and he definitely couldn't lie to you nor himself.

After a quick trip to the bathroom, he picks up his phone with the intention of checking for rain, but is dumbfounded to see a text from you 32 minutes ago.

'Can we talk?'

He stares wide eyed at his screen until it goes dark on him. Talk. Like this? Or over the phone? He should be jumping for joy that you're asking to talk, let alone contacting him again, but he's filled to the brim with uncertainty. What did you want to talk about? Why'd you want to talk to him again? Were you worried? Did one of the guys talk to you? Did you leave something?

The last question made him look around the hallway by instinct, contradictory of what he's been trying to do lately, and he finally allows himself to assess the damage.

His auburn eyes locked onto something left sitting on the narrow table, a small ceramic lamp he remembers you picking out at a furniture store. You thought it'd be the perfect size considering where you planned to put it, and you were right, he can't imagine it being anywhere else.

But why is it here?

He walks aimlessly into the living room and sees more things worth questioning. A decent chunk of your books are still left standing on the bookshelf, your succulent plants are still sitting on the windowsill (and not dead by some miracle), and he spied one of your umbrellas left behind in the entryway organizer. Your sunglasses, one of your favorite birthday cards, your Monopoly game, they're all there. It's a little mortifying that he's just now noticing all of this, but he's far too confused to dwell on it.

Maybe you just didn't get around to everything yet, except you'd never be so forgetful to leave this many things behind. The thought immediately gets debunked anyways when something randomly tells him to check the bedroom, making him nearly sprint back to find what else he blindly looked past. Most of your jackets are in their same spots in the closet, your trinkets don't even look like they've been touched, and the photos he last saw with eyes obscured by tears remained where they've always been.

Even the polaroids, your polaroids, that you periodically took within the first year of the relationship were still in the album you purchased just for them. And the album, something you hold so close to you and look at with the fondest of gazes, still sat in the bottom drawer of the dresser.

There are many things missing, that much he can see, but there should definitely be less than this left behind after a month.

The uncertainty has left and been replaced with confusion.

Kunigami then realizes he never replied to you and quickly texts back, 'Sure,' not even bothering to figure out what exactly you meant by talk. But you want to talk, and that's something.

Your response is almost instant, 'Okay, I'm coming over. See you in seven-ish minutes.'

"Seven minutes!?" He exclaimed and remembered that your sister's place isn't so far from his. So he spends the next five minutes fixing himself up to look presentable, as well as straighten up the cocoon of sorrow his (your, our??) bedroom turned into. Here he is running around like a headless chicken for someone he should be used to and perfectly capable of keeping his composure around, but that's nearly impossible under these circumstances, especially when that someone is you.

You who he was skittish around on the fifth "friendly" date because none of your other friends joined you two for the first time, which lead to him working himself up and finally asking you out. You who came over so often that he eventually asked (nearly begged) to move in with him after handing over a second house key. You who-

Ding-dong~

-is here. That was fast, but you did say seven minutes, well, seven-ish, he has to open the door, you don't have his key anymore-

He rushes over to the front door but stalls when he's bewildered by a thought, one that was embarrassingly late to make an appearance. What are you doing at your sister's place? Isagi told him you were in America last month. The longing for answers to his questions pushes him to open the door, and the sight of you is almost enough to make him forget everything.

"Hey," he greets you in awe. You didn't go through some major transformation, and you aren't dressed any particular way. But God, he missed seeing you, missed you. He missed your warm, penetrating eyes, your soundboard of laughter, and your domestic, loving touch. He wants to hug you so badly, but is your touch still one of love? Would you let him hear your laughs? Do you still look at him the same way?

"Hey," you greet him warmly, and your left hand moves just enough to catch his attention. Your ring finger still glints, because of the promise ring, you kept the-

"You still wear it?" He asks in disbelief.

Your eyebrows raise like you never realized it and you lift your hand to touch the ring, "Oh, uh, yeah. I do."

He's flipping out on the inside, but he controls himself on the outside enough to ask, "What are you doing here?" He receives a look of perplexity and rephrases, "I mean, why aren't you in America?"

"Oh, I just..." you trail off uncertainly, but restart with a light shake of your head, "I needed to see you. Before I go back."

You're going back. He tries not to let the disappointment show, but the slight downward tilt of your chin lets him know he failed. "What did you need to see me for?"

You fiddle with the hem of your shirt (his lovesick brain focuses on the cute habit) and say, "I wanted to apologize."

He snaps out of his little trance and swiftly replies, "I should apologize. The way I treated you was unacceptable-"

"I need to apologize too, because I ignored you for a bit and-"

"That was because of work though, I have no excuse-"

"Ren, wait," you interrupt with an airy laugh, "are we going to keep trying to one-up each other at the entrance?"

"Oh, yeah," he steps aside, "wait, you said-"

"I don't have to go back today," you casually admit with an amused smirk as you walk in.

You leave him speechless at the door, but he breaks out into a laugh seconds later and runs his hand through his soft, spiky locks in relief. Neither of you have fully cracked the cans open yet, he's still in the dark about why exactly you came back, and he has two keys to his house. But the fond way in which you say his nickname, coupled with the promise ring you still wear snuggly and proudly, puts him at just enough ease to not turn into a soap opera protagonist.

Life with you before the breakup was all he could as for and more, the breakup itself was a nightmare that played out in real life, and recovering from the breakup was a hellish episode he's not sure he ever grew out of.

But if there's a promise of a life with you after all of that, it'll all seem worth it.

©lexinympho 2023, please do not edit or repost my works anywhere on this platform or another

#«lexi's writing»#kunigami x reader #blue lock x reader #kunigami rensuke x reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #kunigami angst #bllk x reader

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princedetectives · 5 months

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you know, ive never actually talked about my detective princes au much here. the main idea is pretty simple: naoto moves to tokyo around the 2nd or 3rd palace of P5R to do his own investigation. i think he'd pretty quickly catch on to something fishy happening with the thieves, right? since he has experience in supernatural world shenanigans, after the inaba murders.

i could talk about it for so long but to keep this post from being practically a fanfiction, i'll keep the point on this — through the investigation he mainly works with akechi, and after everything is over, i always love to think they move back to inaba together. like his own rehabilitation, mirroring akira's.

honestly, it's mostly because... i don't know, akechi instantly coming back to the thieves after p5 just seems strange to me? i think it's very out of character for both him and them. i definitely think he'd talk to some of them after some time, but they would need a lot of distance. some recovery for both groups is more than needed. (but to be fair, i imagine them believing akechi is dead through this time, so i don't know how much it'd actually help LMAO)

but i digress. i admit it'd take a lot for this to work too. problem 1: naoto would definitely know everything akechi's done at this point — why in the world would he forgive a mass murderer and bring him back to his hometown? problem 2: on akechi's side, why would HE agree to this? if royal proved anything, it's that if akechi lives at all, he believes he should repent for his crimes, and running away is hardly repenting. (huge emphasis on the if he lives at all.)

i have thought about this! solution 1: maybe i'm crazy, but i do think naoto would see the gray area in akechi. he isn't like the inaba murderer, who was childishly bitter with the world around him for little reason. i'm not saying he wouldn't be mad at akechi at all, he absolutely would, but i think he would kind of get it. it's a detective prince thing: i think they just have that ability to see through each other in a lot of ways. a kind of "they understand each other more than anyone else could". that's my favorite thing about them, i think. because they really are kinda similar. their circumstances changed them, for better or for worse. especially with the kind of bonding i imagine they did over the span of his stay in tokyo, i imagine naoto would be hesitant to throw that away so easily. (in this scenario, naoto would have moved to tokyo on his own after staying in inaba with friends for a few years. he still isn't the greatest at making new friends, so of course he'd like someone who already stands on common ground with him, another detective prince. and it would just grow from there.)

but akechi is a murderer. what if he did something horrible in inaba? this is probably a silly concern knowing akechi like we do, but i imagine it'd be a real one for naoto, or at least the investigation team. solution 1.5: i think he'd be able to trust him. akechi committed his crimes working for shido, and with him gone, he'd have no motive to do anything. that's important, especially for a detective. he also did everything through the metaverse (which would be gone) and was repulsed at seeing the effects in the real world (remember the scene where he almost pukes at the sight of okumura? now that i think about it, that's actually a kinda funny comparison to the inaba murderer who i havent been naming because p4 spoilers are unnecessary but you probably know them. anyway,)

moreover, the fact that naoto is placed in the p5 storyline here... it means this would be the second time he's seen the world almost end. can you imagine what that would do to someone. i think he'd value lives a little more, i dunno.

solution 2: honestly, i can't think of many reasons akechi would accept, other than simply the strength of that bond winning out. which is lovely and all, yeah i definitely think he would appreciate naoto after it's all said and done, eventually, but ive thought of one more option and it's cooler to me: a duel. he's really competitive (they both are). a battle with such high stakes would surely interest him. you know how he wanted so badly to see akira go all out? this would give that to him, not for akira, but for someone he respects deeply, a huge role model for him. the idea of that is DELICIOUS. they would duel, akechi would lose and hold up his end of the deal. (by the way, i imagine this taking place while the phantom thieves are fighting yaldabaouth)

but, above all, after all of that, just... the idea of akechi finally getting to rest is really nice. away from much of the spotlight in such a small town, with someone who understands him and wants him around, i think it'd be really healing for him. we all know he needs it. it'd be a transitional period for sure — a time of peace before he returns to fulfill his promise to akira.

#talks #detective princes #persona 5 #p5 spoilers #persona 5 spoilers #goro akechi #naoto shirogane #persona 4 #i dont know if this is interesting at all i just wanted to share my thoughts <- bored

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silvertherogue715 · 1 month

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Hello! How are you doing? This one’s a fun one. I assume that with Shademan being in here we’d have dark chips. Knowing that they cause dark emotions to be magnified I wonder how they’d effect the NEC-Navi’s(Terra) especially with Shademans ability how would it affect them? Especially if one of them is stuck in a long term exposure situation to the dark energy and emotions from Darkloids if say one was captured or something?Especially cause they can’t be held in one area due to their ability to go out into the real world and depending on their strength levels I’d assume Terra or Sunstar would be more dangerous. Tho I assume Sunstar wouldn’t be the most likely target because he spends more time in the real world while Terra stays more in the net. Do you think Shademan could possibly be able to go toe-to-toe with Terra or another NEC-Navi or just easily snatch one knowing his ability’s? How would this affect the others especially cause I assume theirs some regret over past experience with being overwhelmed with dark emotions? I’d assume if any of them were captured and held captive to use as a weapon it wouldn’t go over well. Especially with Sunstar. Anyway I hope you have a good day/night! Thank you!

Answers below! Been working on this response for quite a bit. Hope I got everything!

How do Dark Chips affect Navis?

Depends on who made them and what type of Navi they’re used on.

Dr. Regal manufactured his to function like a drug. You’d get a brief power boost, but then the withdrawals would hit–and they were lethal. The more you consumed, the faster they’d kill you. He intentionally programmed his chips to be this way.

Regal Chips → Bad.

Minx manufactured hers to function like recovery chips. She only made hers with Ra Moon in mind, knowing pure negative energy was needed to heal himself in a way normal recovery chips couldn’t.

Minx Chips → Good.

Using a Dark Chip on a ‘normal’ navi is not recommended, since they were made with Darkloids in mind. Depending on how strong the chip is and how many consumed, there could be several side effects:

Increased strength and agility

Deliriousness, loss of control, violent ideologies, lashing out, memory loss, etc.

Conversion into a Darkloid (as seen with Blues in the anime)

How do Dark Chips affect the Stardroids?

They give them a power boost, if anything at all, but a small one.

The Stardroids are already powered by Negative Energy Crystals, which are about as pure an energy source as you can get. Dark Chips are far weaker in comparison.

To compare Dark Chips and NE-Crystals, think about drinks! You’re in the middle writing a paper and need some energy to get you through. A can of Dr. Pepper has 41 mg of caffeine. A BANG energy drink has 300. Dark Chips are like Dr. Pepper and NECs are like BANG. If you drink the BANG you’re gonna be way more wired (or more powerful, in this case)

More on the last bit, though–

Minx manufactured her own Dark Chips to help Ra Moon as ordinary recovery chips did nothing for him, likely due to his alien code. Her method of making them differed from Dr. Regals and they were not mass-manufactured. She had a very limited supply, and they were usually reserved for emergencies.

Reviewing some of my Doc notes:

Dark chips are both very illegal and expensive as they boast an ability to permanently increase a Navi’s base stats. Minx purchased one and used it as a reference to make her own. Edward and his son found more than just Ra Moon when poking head around the crater the navi left, too (let's call them Dark Chip Crystals/Crater Crystals).

Dr. Regal was able to mass-produce so many dark chips because he would infuse his machines with Viren NEC shards, which would in turn fuel the chips without needing an individual crystal for each one, unlike Minx, who used an unrefined material (Crater Crystals) for her dark chips, hence her needing a crystal shard for each individual Dark Chip.

What would happen if there was continuous exposure to negative energy? To Dark Chips?

Hm...if one of Dr. Regal’s Dark Chips were used on a Stardroid, I imagine they would feel ill/become weakened purely as a result of the ‘kill code’ embedded into the chip's design that forces data to slowly delete itself. I’m sure the Stardroids would have a method to deal with poisoned data eventually, but whoever is afflicted would definitely need down time until they found said cure.

Fun fact! Around the end of arc 1, Minx reveals her knowledge of Dark Chips with the main cast in SciLab so they can start working on a cure, or at the very least a way to slow down the voraciousness of Regal’s data deletion program afflicting [a captured Darkloid].

This backfires on her later.

Long term exposure to negativity for any normal Navi is bad. Darkloids get stronger with it, though they become more dangerous to others. The thing about Darkloids, though, is that they willingly give in to those urges/to the power high. NEC-Navis/The Stardroids do not. Think of it as a battle of will! The Stardroids feel the urge to lash out and destroy, sure, but like all NEC Navis, they were taught to restrain themselves from their “evil” urges, lest they become a threat to Viren society and be…dealt with. Either by Sunstar or some willing GVC soldier. That doesn't mean some of them wouldn't give in to temptation, though. Eyeballing Mercury here.

The over-exposure to a 5-NEC Sunstar resulted in the Stardroids becoming nearly as unfeeling as their leader. They were still themselves at their core, sure, but anyone without the capability to feel remorse would act in cruel and unusual ways to get what they wanted. No moral compass to tie you down, you know? Especially if the only thing preventing you from taking certain actions is the vague memory of knowing you wouldn’t have done so in the past, or that it would upset someone you know you’re supposed to love.

Regardless, the scariest NE-Navis aren’t the mindless ones who snapped and lashed out blindly, but the cold, calculating ones who could pick apart a system by its threads. That’s what made the corrupted Stardroids so scary–people could tell there was something wrong with them, but couldn’t do anything because the Stardroids hadn’t done anything to warrant getting captured.

How would Sunstar react?

Hoo boy, seeing his fellow stardroids fall prey to their urges again would mess. Him. up.

You’re right that he would feel extreme guilt that he let this happen under his watch again, even if he’s not to blame this time.

Shademan vs The Stardroids?

I think Shademan would stand a pretty good chance against some of the tankier Stardroids like Uranus or Mars, simply because they're easier targets. Smaller ones like Venus would also be at a disadvantage, since she wouldn’t be physically strong enough to handle his close-combat attacks. Neptune is pretty slow out of water, but he does have his acid attack–so it’s a solid maybe for him. In water though? Good luck Shademan.

Shademan would probably struggle the most against the faster, more clever ones like Pluto, Jupiter, Terra, etc. Terra is the strongest out of that group, though, given his combined experience and long-range weapon.

Mercury and Sunstar are..in their own league.

Kidnapping a Stardroid?

Excluding Terra and Sunstar, all the others generally travel in pairs of two. Even if they were confronted one-on-one, the Stardroids are frustratingly powerful, and all of them have years of battle experience–far more than any Earth Navi–a run for their money. Kidnaping one of them is uhh..pretty unlikely.

Even if one Stardroid was indisposed or cut off from the others, it’s likely they would be found relatively quickly due to their unique energy signatures (thank you NE-Crystals). That’s not to say you’d be able to identify who is who if you placed two stardroids on opposite sides of a wall from one another, though. The only NEC navi that’s relatively easy to pick out would be Sustar, but that’s just because he has a much stronger, more concentrated energy (2 NECs) to pick up on.

The Stardroids/NEC Navis can also pick up on Darkloid signals, but they’re much more…faint? If that makes sense. Weaker energy source and all that.

But back to the first bit– you’re right about Sunstar being regularly unavailable as a target due to being in the real world more frequently. When Terra isn’t in his office on the Stardroid’s spaceship (or inside the ship’s systems), he can be found rooting out issues on the Net. Said issues are generally Viren or Darkloid-related, though. The existence of Darkloids disturbs him greatly. I mean, how do similar beings made of negative energy exist, if the Virens were destroyed ages ago? =)

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basedkikuenjoyer · 1 year

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Spiderwebs Pt.1: The Pace & Prince Charming

Time to give Dressrosa its due. I’m not the biggest fan of this arc, but I’m liking it more now that I’m seeing how it fits into the big picture. Interesting one for me too; I’ve been a fan long enough I kinda think about parts of my life around the releasing arcs. Dressrosa almost perfectly overlaps with Grad School for me, which was a very happy time. Though one I didn’t really make much more time for manga than getting up a little early and reading the new chapter each week. You may have already gathered I enjoy the Grand Fleet a lot, particularly Cabbage & the Tontatta. We’ll get to one of those in a minute.

The pitch here is not that Dressrosa as a whole is some big step in this overarching fil rouge. Here, the devil is in only about the first third. While the entire crew and Momonosuke are present we’ll see a lot of great beats that poke at the Straw Hats’ weak side. It starts right here, with Doflamingo’s “pace” or momentum. We’ll hit this deeper, but the idea is Doffy is this type of character when they’re a villain. He’s how dangerous someone with these skills can be. Katakuri’s a version of Luffy who’s had this growth already, then I’d argue Kiku is the good person who shows how to apply the same concepts. Luckily Law’s here right? He’s a good gap-filler! Except...this arc will carry a lot of water setting up why it needs to be someone else.

See what I mean? It didn’t take long. And look at who ends up delivering the message? Law gave it his best shot and got played. Dressrosa devolves from what could have been a solid plan because Doflamingo was just better. Luckily he could be outmuscled, and fate had other plans. This failure inspiring the Tontatta and others to take their last shot. It’s kinda like if Luffy showed up 10 years into Wano’s long winter and gave Ashura Doji’s men the extra boost they needed. Stuff like negotiating a hostage exchange or maybe say, recognizing a way to use Caesar and expose crimes anyways as a recovery are the types of things Kiku is the right territory to excel at. Robin’s a great spy, but she’s too socially awkward. That’s not a knock, around this point in the story there’s an SBS answer where Oda patently describes her as such. Just like spelling out Kiku’s sociability in a later one.

Let’s not forget there is this big hook too. Doflamingo and VA Tsuru’s rivalry is there in both’s first appearance. Right around when we’re meeting Blackbeard and Bellamy. The Crane is the one who knows how to deal with a naughty boy like this. Gotta say though I love their little rivalry being a thing even if nothing else comes of it. Moving on, Doffy has the StrawHeart Alliance nailed with his counter to the opening shot. By all accounts he easily could have ended both. The Colosseum was a perfect trap for Luffy. And that is where I can’t help but notice at least one big moment that seems to carry a lot more weight after Bakura Town.

Rebecca. I’ve already hinted at this and it’ll get it’s spotlight. Rebecca & Kyros’s story make for an excellent contrast with Kiku & Kin’s. Diagenically, I’d argue seeing the Dressrosa pair maybe made Kin’emon start to feel conflicted about her. It was subtle but there the whole time. Forget that for a moment though, just this scene. The girl standing against the scorn of the masses. What’s the difference between here and the Sumo ring? Rebecca’s hurt by it, she does cry. She’s a little younger and softer overall but at the end of the day Kiku’s better able to shrug it off. We’re not done though, it’s how she ends up getting that same trick we’ve seen elsewhere when someone else joins the fray.

Cavendish you pretty idiot I love you. We can use Luffy’s face for scale; Kiku impressed him way more but it doesn’t diminish Cabbage. The obvious comparison is she made the better first impression (giving Luffy food and tending to Zoro) and was a lot cooler in her big moment. Biggest difference is he’s still a former noble forced out of that life, we never see that “no person called chattel” element out of him. Think like what I’ve said about Boa. Cavendish has all the tools, his bounty speaks for his capability, but he’s too vain and self-absorbed. Likewise not the type to follow others, he’s a solid enough captain that has survived the New World independently so far. He is showing off the skills. Swaying the crowd with pomp and circumstance. Teasing a gentle side. Not to mention...

Such a funky pose! Oh yeah, this gets oddly specific at points. Hakuba seems really huge when Dressrosa’s beautiful swordsman has this whole “bakura” shtick going on too. Notably a demon side he cannot control. We’ve talked about Pudding, both will get those iconic split face panels to really drive it home. Also a cool little quirk, Cavendish’s attack names are a lot of Western theatre and literary references. I also love Kiku having some shade for Caggage in PW4. Really there’s a fair amount of comparability between this stretch of Dressrosa and Act 1. Think about Cavendish first appearing trying to explain the weight restrictions. Luffy doesn’t listen. Excellent contrast to Kiku who he respects more off the bat.

To me, Dressrosa is in hindsight a great example of what we try to avoid in Wano. Being exposed too early, a nationwide manhunt. It’s a “dress” rehearsal for the play, if you will. This plan could have gone off without a hitch and brought down Kaido’s wrath on Doffy. But they got played, they got invested, and it ends up paying off big time for the Straw Hats in gaining the Grand Fleet. A lot of the eventual captains of that fleet end up doing a good job of showing an element that’s missing. Just, especially when we fill them out with the cover stories, we’ll see that they lack big things too. A lot of these things will be positive traits that run through Kiku’s side of Wano. Showing her as someone who can balance a lot of them. Cavendish is the most on-the-nose by a mile.

#one piece #dressrosa #doflamingo #luffy #rebecca #cavendish #trafalgar law #curious curiosities

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our-reality · 1 year

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give me a rundown on your silly guys when you feel up 2 it ?

omg yaur ofc .... i've already talked about their personalities in the past (which i can link you to if you want me to!!) so this time i'll expand a bit on their actual roles/tropes in the story and how they factor into the theme :)

ruby - the main character, along with java. originally she was solely the main character, but as time went on and the more i developed the two's relationship the more obvious it became that they should be co-leads. anyways ruby plays into the "sunshine" character trope very heavily and she's easily the most cheerful and optimistic out of all the 7 main characters.

however, she represents overarching theme of the story that "you can't get better on your own, you have to let others help you" in a way unique to her. long story short, she was the one who needed to get better in her youth, but because she had so many different support systems in her life, she was able to then extend the kindness she received to others, being the primary person to do so throughout the entire story. imo she probably embodies the theme the best, which is good cuz she's my favorite xoxo

java - like i said, co-lead to ruby and foil in a lot of ways, often opposing ruby's willingness to stick her head out for others by being more cautious and apprehensive. definitely follows the "brooding" archetype (making her and ruby's relationship a brooding x sunshine kinda deal).

what's interesting about java with the theme, though, is that while she's older than ruby, she's still heavily on the road to recovery from her teenage years. she sort of represents the journey there, not being fully healed to the same extent ruby is (though ruby is FAR from being healed herself), but is absolutely on her way to being there (see: how she treats requiem in comparison to swift treats them. ough. but i'll get to that later)

ALSO SMTH THAT I JUST THOUGHT OF java has the most amount of connections between the seven main characters while ruby most strongly embodies the central theme which makes both og them the heart of the story in different ways that's neat........

python - oh good lord okay. uhm. it's a sort of mentor figure to the two main characters but he's definitely on the reluctant side. uh it for suresies plays into the whole antihero trope with how he looks and behaves, and he also has by far the most connection to the main villain so there's something. uhm but hey in terms of the theme.

the consistent motif throughout his life is like. needing help but not having anyone around to help him with. it was definitely the worst when it was a god (looked down upon by the other gods and largely lived in swift's shadow), and it didn't really get much better when he became human, which was why it felt so betrayed by vysel that it killed him :)!!! on that note though i think after that moment he stops sort of "playing by the rules", accepting all of the constant rejection it's received, and resorting to violence more often because, from its perspective, it's the only thing that's worked so far.

it embodies an end of the spectrum of what happens if you don't/can't let others help you heal, and he spends a lot of season 1 climbing out of the habits it fell into after vysel's death. he does get better though dw

swift - also a mentor to the main characters like python is, but unlike python who can manage being a decent mentor (all things considered) and a good friend, sky's a soaring mentor but not the greatest person to be around. they have a lot of that "all work no play" kind of energy and doesn't really understand the concept of breaks because she never gets one haha what.

aside from that yk that spectrum of what happens when you don't let others help you heal i mentioned with python. she's equal but the polar opposite. sky had piles of people to help them after python's dissappearance but sky shut all of them out because none of them were what she "wanted". in skies mind, python was the only person who could make things better and they refused to think otherwise. which to her credit the other gods are kinda assholes so it's not an incorrect assumption but shshsh. so they isolated herself, selling skies soul to their work and the prophecy (aka the narrative), because in their perception it would only make it harder if she had to juggle the two hardest jobs in the universe AND be other peoples' friends because, other than python, she only saw friends as boxes to check, as just more people they had to hold up appearances to.

they get better too thankfully but essentially python was wrecked by having no one to help and used their overwhelming passion to hurt both himself and others, while swift was wrecked and tried to get rid of skies passions altogether so that she wouldn't be able to hurt themself or others. funny how that works huh

shocker! no. once the second half kicks off it's like. abundantly obvious that there's a lot more to his character than what he first shows. he actually has a lot of different combined traits from the other characters (mentioned the growing up too fast thing already, but there's also there's a parallel to python with the delving into a "false" persona thing, and a parallel to swift with the selling his soul to work thing), which i swear wasn't me being lazy it's just how it worked out

c+ - uh. the comic relief LMAO. for the first half of season 1 he serves as a comedic foil to java and to round out the "humans who had to grow up too fast" trio (with ruby and java). basically his character in the first half is meant to disarm you, like at least there's one character that doesn't have a despressing underside to him right? right???

i wrote out some other stuff regarding his character a lil bit ago which i can also link you too but yeah!! my funny guy :)

vysel - the villain. that's it we're done here BWJSKDKSJFKLS no but fr i hesitate to call him an antagonist because that sort of implies he's a direct opposition to the protagonist and he really?? isn't??? well. okay it's complicated. he has a very direct connection to python but other than that. he himself has no connection to swift but the spirits absolutely do so that kinda works but he doesn't know ruby or java pretty much at all. yeah he's one of java's favorite artists but that's kind of a one sided thing. but PLOT TWIST THAT WAS INTENTIONAL THE WHOLE TIME!!!!!!!!!!!

in a bunch of like. esp old "chosen one" stories the villains often don't have super strong connections to the chosen hero, which isn't especially an issue in most cases. but the reason i bring this up is because, in addition to the main theme, vysel's also a major prop for the theme of the narrative. cuz well. he kind of is just a prop, isn't he? like yeah he personally wronged python and he develops beef with the other main cast as time goes on, but he's not the first or last to harm python AND they couldve just as easily formed beef with a different person. if it wasn't him brought back and it was someone else? it wouldn't make that big a difference to the main characters, or anyone, really. he's assimilated into the narrative from the start, and that fact only becomes more and more apparent to the audience (and eventually him as well) as the story goes on. and i could say even more but that would be off topic n his section is long as hell already lmao

uh anyways i'm gonna keep the rest brief but in terms of the main theme he respresents like. yes you have to let others help you but sometimes others can be toxic and you have to be able to recognize when people's help and love for you is conditional. and this is pretty much restricted to python but if i talk about vysel anymore i'll lose my mind sorry

requiem - FINALLY REQUIEM and they were supposed to be the main character as they're the literal chosen one before they forced themself out of the narrative (but not really because you can never truly escape your fate lol). basically the "refusal of the call" stage of the hero's journey taken to the extreme. anyways yk that whole black and white motif they have. yeah that's no coincidence that's just like. visual language. every inch of their existence is connected to their chosen one status . its fun

and this is something i've never extensively talked about ever so NEW LORE!! their parents neglect the fuck out of them. FUN RIGHT thorne write a character with two loving and living parents challenge (impossible). but uh yeah yk those jokes that're like "wow how are all the parents of these heros just fine to let their child walk around all by themselves with no supervision". yeah that. their parents aren't physically or emotionally abusive in any way and they do care about requiem to an extent but they also are. not good at being parents. so when requiem ends up running away from home with the gang they. don't care for a while. oops.

and reqs not a paticularly good or bad student either so they're really not used to an adult giving them attention, let alone 4 at the exact same time so yeah when the gang shows up on their doorstep and say "hey do you want to go on a trip around the entire world with us" the adjustment period ends up being pretty rough for them ! but when they do finally start to open up it's very obvious that they need so much help . in terms of the theme yk how i said python and swift were different ends of the "what happens when no one helps you" spectrum? well requiem isn't quite on their level but they're well on their way to being just as bad as them, if not worse. so the other four kind of have to work at them and unearth all of the things they've repressed, basically trying to stop them from spiraling into the same unhealthy coping mechanisms that python and swift and especially java (who i haven't mentioned in relation to reqs until now but they are Extremely similar characters. reqs is like a younger java brought forward in time except somehow even more emo). and yeah that's how they relate to the theme heehee

i hope you realize why i can't go on long winded rants about their characters cuz there is even more to be said about them beyond all of this . i was trying to be brief when writing these . uh anyways if you want me to elaborate on these more i will but HOUH

#ruby #java #python #swift #c+#vysel #requiem #hope this was worth the wait heehee

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nievescormier05 · 2 years

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themand0lorian · 2 years

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BEHIND THE MASK // 6 // RECOVERY

Summary: Dieter Bravo is not that good of an actor.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (no Y/N)

Rating: Teen

Words: ~4800 (AO3)

Tags: enemies to lovers, miscommunications, lots of Pandemic talk, Dieter has a lot of explaining to do, fluff

minor movie spoilers for his Cliff Beasts Character

Notes: Final part! Hope this makes the hurt worth it! (also, written after watching the movie, but really not changing much about him based on it--because I didnt love it :P lol so I guess this is an AU now?)

The question caught him off-guard.

“Any new romances on set we should know about?”

Yes, he screams internally. Yes. There’s this girl--I’ve only been away from her for a few hours but it’s making my skin crawl. Her smile lights up every room she’s in, she’s the smartest person I know. I would fight with her just to kiss and makeup. Just to see that cute crinkle of her eyebrows or to hear her hum in annoyance. In a sea of falsities, she is the most beautiful truth. I would worship at her altar every day for the rest of my life.

She stayed.

She stays.

She’ll stay.

He’s done this before. Had the very public whirlwind romance, only to very publicly end in turmoil. He’s given his whole heart, just to get it torn and handed back to him when they couldn’t handle him. Couldn’t handle the rumors, the drama, the paparazzi, the infamy that came along with his name. Watching their own name get dragged through the mud as the villain.

The other option, as he’s found out, is to be used; for money, for fame. Wait for him to fall, get what they want—a new car. A leg up for their next role. A tell-all interview. Never him.

But you were different—you never asked for any of that, never wanted anything from him but him. Within an instant, he swears to himself, he won’t let that happen to you, won’t let the world drag you down. Won’t let Dieter Bravo bring you under his swell.

So he lies.

“Can’t think of any.” It comes easily; the smirk he’s worn for years, the standoffish attitude. He slips into it like his familiar robe.

“What about this?” The pictures make his stomach drop. He wants to stare at them; to commit each detail to memory, to fill in where his own lapses. The look on your face, the look on his own. Just you, framed by flowers that pale in comparison. He stutters a bit before looking back to the interviewer.

“Where the fuck did you get this?!” The interviewer gestures for the camera person to cut, sighing deeply.

“Mr. Bravo--” “No—tell me where the fuck you got this, right now!” Dieter’s out of his chair; he wants to kick, scream, punch. Instead he paces, crazed; pointing in the interviewer’s face as he speaks.

“This isn’t doing much to support your ‘no romances’ answer.”

“Excuse me?” The anger still laces his tone, but confusion underlays it.

“I’m just saying—Mr. Bravo—these pictures are coming out either way. If we don’t air them, someone will. If you want people to believe that nothing happened—then you need to sell it.” Dieter stares at him, dumbstruck. He’s right; he could take the photos, tear them to shreds, threaten legal action—they would just be sold to the next highest bidder and released anyway. Angrily, he plops back down in his seat.

“Fine. Ask me again,” he growls.

“What?” “Ask me the fucking question again,” he orders, and the interviewer gestures for them to roll the cameras again. When he sits in a more similar position to before, the interviewer repeats himself.

“What about this?”

“What can I say, man—you asked about romances. Not hook-ups—a man’s got needs, you know.” He winks at the end, trying to cover the bile rising in his throat. If this interview had happened before—before lockdown, before the bubble, before you—these would’ve been his answers. It feels like another filthy part he plays, a movie he doesn’t consent to.

“So she’s just ‘fulfilling your needs?’” The interviewer repeats it back to him with raised eyebrows, but Dieter takes it as a gesture to tell him to double-down. Show everyone he’s telling the truth.

So he does.

“More like I ‘needed’ a way to shut her up,” he laughs. “We had fun, but she—she’s a real tight-ass for a PA. Besides, gotta keep the options open.” He wants to suck the words back into his mouth, but he can’t; some part of him wonders if he went too far. If you would understand when he told you. Still, the interviewer presses on, and he feels like he shows his Oscar-worthy skill in response.

“Surely you’d have your pick of the lot--maybe someone prettier than her.”

“Not a hard task,” he replies with a laugh. “Maybe tonight.”

“That should be everything, Mr. Bravo. Thank you.”

“When does this air?” He asks, a bit nervously.

“Not sure—a few days, probably.” With that, the interviewer packs up, leaving him to the mess he made. He had to have done the right thing—right? This is what you would’ve wanted? To be kept out of the spotlight—to love in secret, like you had this whole time? That had to be it, hadn’t it? The word hadn’t crossed his mind, but now that it did, it rings between his ears. You love her. Love. You love her. Does she love you? You love her.

He needs to tell you. Right now—right in the middle of this PA training, he needs to tell you, to get it all out there. He makes it about halfway to the crew hall before realizing; he needs a plan. He’s Dieter fucking Bravo—he needs fireworks and symphonies and opulence like you’ve never seen. He needs to show you, and tell you, how much he loves you.

He needs you. Plain and simple.

He asked the concierge up to his room for help. The flowers, he could do; could pay a gardener to set things up, could order them online. For something like this—some big, momentous thing—he needs reinforcements. He needs to keep things a secret; the look of your surprise after the flowers made his heart flutter. He wanted to chase that feeling again.

She shows up almost immediately; the girl has been pulling double-duty, helping with some of the wardrobe changes on set as well, so he knew her pretty well. Knew her name. Before you—they all stayed nameless. But he knows her name now.

He invites her in; he’s already spewing ideas. Pacing around the room, he spits out everything he can think of; recreate Stardew Valley in real life? Adopt a dog that looks like the one from Zombeavers? Nothing feels like enough; enough to show you just how much his love for you wants to explode out of him. She nods to each request, scribbling things down. When he excuses himself to the bedroom, hoping to grab the Cliff Beasts shirt you love to much, to incorporate it somehow, he doesn’t even stop talking, a mile a minute.

He’s rambled so long, by the time he returns and looks at the girl for her opinion—he’s speechless.

“Woah—what the fuck?” He immediately shields his eyes like the sight has blinded him; the girl stands in the center of the room, fully naked, presenting herself to him like a prized package.

“Like what you see, Mr. Bravo?” She asks seductively, traipsing across the room towards him.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” He shrugs her off of him, keeping his eyes covered comically.

“Is—is this not what you called me up here for?” She shrinks back on herself a bit, face faltering.

“No! I—weren’t you listening? I’m trying to figure out a grand gesture to tell her I love her!”

“Oh my god, I thought--Mr. Bravo, I’m so sorry,” she quickly prances back to her clothes, hastily putting them on.

“Jesus Christ--”

“I just—I heard your reputation, and the other girls, and—"

He still pointedly looks away from her as she scrambles; eventually fully covering herself, though her underwear, kicked under the table in her haste, gets left behind in her mortification.

“Just—just go. I won’t tell anyone. I’ll just—I’ll figure it out myself.” She nods hurriedly, scurrying out of his room in embarrassment. He huffs, falling into the couch, hands scrubbing over his face—maybe he could plant you your own flower garden?

After a fitful night—many new ideas scribbled on a napkin on the bedside table—he decides he’s just going to ask you. Sneakily. Figure out if there’s something you’ve dreamed of, something that felt impossible, that he could make possible. He’s so excited by the prospect, he’s awake way before you’re scheduled to arrive, sitting and waiting in the sitting area for you. After a few minutes of nervously tapping his fingers, he grabs his phone—maybe he could research hot air balloon rides.

The texts from his agent go ignored, as usual. He doesn’t even read them before swiping them away. Before setting to his research for his lofty ideas, he opens Twitter—and his face falls.

The pictures are everywhere. The things he said being blasted for being cruel, or celebrated for being honest. Every aspect of you—things he loved, things he never even knew—have been broadcasted to world. Article after article speculates about you, your job, your life—how you’re a gold-digger. You couldn’t even pay your rent before, according to one article with a statement from your landlord; you were using him for money—

His brain feels like mush. The words move through it like rocks through a sieve, and within a moment, he’s on his feet, storming through the mansion to the crew hallway. Nick stands in front of your door—the one he walked you to every night. Was he in on this? Did he know all along?

“Mr. Bravo—” Nick tries to move in front of him, but Dieter snarls.

“Where the fuck is she? I—I need to talk to her.”

“Mr. Bravo, don’t—”

“Nick, if you don’t move, I’m moving you,” Dieter growls lowly. Nick tries to stand his ground, but Dieter shoves him, albeit gently, out of the way and busts into the room.

“Sweetheart, did you see—” His heart stops when he sees your luggage on the bed, ready to be zipped closed. He came to get the truth, and you’re—you’re leaving? You got what you wanted and you’re leaving? “What? Where are you going? What are you doing?”

“I was fired, Mr. Bravo. For ‘inappropriate workplace relations.’” You won’t look at him, though Hailey glares in his direction. He looks around the room, trying to think of something. Something to buy more time, to get the truth.

“What? I—Let me talk to them, I can—”

“Haven’t you done enough?!” Hailey adds, cutting him off. After some silent stare-off between you, she leaves reluctantly. He flounders for a moment; trying to find the words to confirm his fears, to see what’s the truth, but you beat him to speaking.

“I saw a video of the interview. Did—did you mean what you said?” You sound so small, so beaten down. It doesn’t feel real; it feels like everything he’s done for you, everything that’s happened—you thought what he said was the truth?

“What? You--you know how I feel about you.”

“Do I? I know how your character feels. About Dolly. I know that you spent a lot of money on me—The only words I’ve heard from you are from the interview. So I want to hear the truth. From you.” His heart shatters; of course. The money. Just like the article said, just like your landlord said, it was always for money—bile rises in his throat as he turns on his Dieter Bravo persona, slipping back into it like a comfort blanket to shield his broken heart.

“Sweetheart, this is show business. We were having fun. I told you, everyone wants something—money, jewelry, fame--"

“God, you idiot!” You interrupt. “This wasn’t just ‘fun’ for me! I--I didn’t ask for any of this! This—your money, your name. I never wanted anything but you! You, Dee. That was it.” The words pierce him; yours don’t match what he’s heard, what’s been said--

“But clearly you don’t feel the same way. You were so busy worrying about what I wanted, but you finally got what you wanted all along--I’m leaving. You can move on to a prettier PA or wardrobe person or whoever the fuck came over last night.” You throw the panties at him, and he awkwardly catches them; he has no idea where they came from, but he has a guess—the concierge last night. She had hurried out so quickly, maybe she forgot them, or planted them, or--

“Sweetheart, c’mon—” It’s somewhere between his Dieter voice and his regular voice, realizing how this must look to you. You clearly knew she came by, saw him invite another woman in to his room after telling you he would wait. He’s hurt you, profoundly—he knows it. But he doesn’t know how to fix it. “No. Don’t. Don’t—call me that. I’m leaving now, Mr. Bravo. I have to—I have to go. So if you’ll excuse me.”

“I thought you stayed when things got hard.” It’s the only thing he can think; the thing he’s always respected the most about you. You’ve both made things hard, both hurt each other, him more than you, but you’re both so clearly in pain, as evidenced by your final words as you leave him behind, just like everyone else.

“I guess we’re both not who we said we were, then.”

He looks to his feet ashamedly. His eyes dance over the table as he does, seeing something glimmer; he already knows what it is before he approaches, but he does anyway, palming the necklace in his hand.

It was never about the money. If it was—you would’ve taken this. Would’ve sold it, would already be cashing in on his name on your client list. You wouldn’t be silently crying in your cramped little room, throwing red underwear in the waste bin, leaving the necklace for someone else to find. How could he be so stupid? How could he ruin this before it even started?

Nick finds him in the same spot he left him; staring blankly at the necklace in his hand. He clears his throat awkwardly, coldly; it’s clear whose side he’s on.

“Mr. Bravo—we’re too close to the end of filming, so I’ll be your PA for the next few weeks. We have a call time in fifteen—” “Nick,” he interrupts smally.

“Yes, sir?” “I—I’ve made a huge mistake.” Nick’s never been particularly friendly, but he was always amicable. Professional. He’s turned icy now, barely acknowledging Dieter. “Yes, sir,” Nick confirms, some anger hiding behind his voice. “You have.”

He follows the hashtags religiously throughout the day. Watches as photos crop up, you shielding your face to the cameras as you go into your apartment. You walking out of it fifteen minutes later. The bulbs illuminate past your sunglasses, and when he zooms in, he can see the tears behind them.

A video surfaces, burly paparazzi shouting questions at you like you’re not the most precious thing in the world, clearly ready to break. They don’t care about that; don’t care about you. They care about the headlines—and they get one.

“Miss! Miss! Where’s the necklace!” “Miss! What was it like working with Dieter Bravo!”

“Did you sleep with him?! What is he really like?” “Did he really pay off your apartment?” You stop, whipping around, and then steel yourself, pushing the sunglasses up. Several microphones get pushed in your direction as you put on your strongest face.

“This will be my only statement, so pay attention. I was Dieter Bravo’s PA on the Cliff Beasts set. My apartment was paid for by the PA company as a stipulation for staying on-site with them. I have returned the necklace, and I would like to go back to my normal life now. I do not know anything about who Dieter Bravo is as a person besides in a professional capacity. He’s made it abundantly clear that I—I mean nothing to him. So please—just—leave me be.” Several more questions get tossed your way before the video cuts out, but you get back into your car, driving away.

He can hear the choked words on repeat for the rest of the day. He’s supposed to dance with the beasts, but can’t get the beat right—I mean nothing to him. He misses his line, the big reveal for him as the villain—I mean nothing to him. He can’t think straight.

He hears from Hailey as she chats with the other PAs—you left your apartment. It was being swarmed at all hours, you felt unsafe—another dagger to his chest—and you had to leave. You lost all your biggest clients, your work website was hacked and you couldn’t recover it. The paparazzi have finally moved on to the next scandal, but your life is in pieces; interview requests keep coming in. No doubt for large payouts, for the opportunity to hurt him the way he did you.

But you never take them.

You could tell-all. You could talk about the drugs, or the sex, or the gluten allergy, or him at his weakest points; you could say he’s lost his acting edge, could say you had slept together and it was bad. You could ruin him, like he did you.

But you never did.

It’s the last day on the Cliff Beasts set; the last press junket set to wrap. Dieter’s happy his character dies at the end; he never wants to see any of these people again. Nick is gathering the last of the company’s things in his room, and Dieter watches, before interrupting.

“Nick?” “Yes, sir.” “How can I fix this?” Nick freezes; he knows what he means.

“I—I don’t work for you anymore, sir.” 5 o’clock has ticked past, so technically, it’s the truth.

“That’s why I’m asking you,” Dieter retorts quickly. “It’s the only way I think I’ll get the truth out of you.” Nick ignores the comment, continuing his work, so Dieter tries again. “I could—I could invite her to the premiere? Or send her enough roses to cover her front porch. Or do another interview? Explain everything?” Nick sighs heavily.

“Mr. Bravo—is that what you think she wants? Or is that what you want?” Dieter looks at him owlishly. “I just—you’re being selfish, Mr. Bravo. The girl I met—the one I hired, the one you like—she wouldn’t want any of that.” With his words, Nick dismisses himself, leaving Dieter to finish packing his own belongings. Of course, Nick is right. It’s been about him this whole time—he said those things, thinking what he was doing was right. He assumed, he ruined what you had, he got you fired, he hurt you. So what is it you want? Your fight rings in his ears.

“I never wanted anything but you! You, Dee. That was it.”

He knows what he has to do.

There wasn’t much solace in your life anymore. Sure, the paparazzi had stopped following your every move—some new, exciting scandal to cover, no doubt—but things still felt unsettled. Adrift.

You wallowed in your childhood bedroom long enough. Every ounce of strength was put into your statement to the cameras, the first day outside the bubble. Then you went to your parents house, hid under the covers, and cried.

Had you really been so off-base? None of this was you—to fall in head first, to deviate from the rules, and look where it had gotten you. Broken hearted and pathetic.

You texted with Hailey a bit; snippets of the day to let her know you were alive, even though you wanted to burrow underground in embarrassment. You knew Cliff Beasts was done by now—your previously allotted end date having passed—but still, you heard nothing from Dieter. Hailey claimed he took it hard, but you had squat to show you that, and so instead, you cried into your pillow like when Dave Sherman said he wouldn’t go to prom with you.

After days of this, of course, your mother got worried. She wanted you to get out, get some fresh air; not the easiest in the midst of a pandemic. But you follow her advice dutifully either way; especially when a coupon for the local botanical gardens makes its way to your inbox.

You move between the paths easily; capacity is way down, and only a few other people wander the grounds with you, stopping to learn about flowers or bushes or trees. You swallow beneath your mask when you see a couple stopped under a blooming willow tree, shaking your head of any memories of Dieter. Even something like this, something beautiful, tainted with his memory.

But it was good to get your thoughts in order. Even after all this—after everything he said, everything he did, the rogue underwear--you couldn’t hate him. No, in fact—you still loved him. You missed his touch, the way he felt when you snuggled into his side, his passion for bad Netflix movies. You missed how he made you feel like the most special girl in the world, how he seemed to like your flaws, how caring he could be.

You suppose he does that to all the girls, though.

Sighing heavily, you enter the large greenhouse; teeming with flowers and plants that are non-native to the area, it’s humid and warm, and the scents fill your nose even through the mask. A few others straggle toward the entrance, but it feels like you’re alone in the jungle, surrounded by life, by flowers—

By something beautiful.

You settle into a bench at the back of the greenhouse, trying to absorb the humidity and heat like the plants, to grow stronger. With a deep breath, you close your eyes, listening to the gentle waterfalls in the center of the enclosure, trying to relax.

You don’t see the others in the greenhouse ushered out quickly, or someone else enter. You don’t hear someone sit down on the bench next to yours. You’re so lost in your own world, thinking of Dieter, of Diego, of how stupid you feel, that you startle when you can practically hear his voice.

“Beautiful.” Your eyes snap open; the greenhouse is empty, save for the bench next to you. He’s wearing jeans, a familiar grey tshirt, a mask—but you know it’s him. His eyes bore into you, warm with something like regret; you can tell he was never looking at the flowers.

“What are you doing here?” You ask smally; part of you doesn’t want to talk to him, wants to storm out. But your heart hangs on.

“I—I came to find something beautiful.” “And?”

“I did,” he answers shyly. “I know you probably hate me, and I don’t deserve it—but please—can you hear me out? For just a minute?” You look around nervously, so he adds. “There’s no cameras. I made sure.” You take a moment to respond.

“I don’t hate you.” He nods, though you don’t expand, so he starts to babble.

“Maybe you should,” he chuckles, self-deprecatingly. “All those things I said—in the interview—I didn’t mean them. I—I saw this happening. Saw you getting picked to shreds, saw it hurting you, and I wanted to stop it—to throw them off the scent. But it still happened, and I’m sorry.” You nod, playing with your fingers in your lap. “The truth is—I’m in love with you. So fully, completely, madly in love with you—and when I came to tell you my plan, and how I felt—I saw you were packing up. And I felt so—so stupid, and wrong, for thinking I was worthy of anything but being used by you. So I doubled down, and—well—here we are.” He’s exasperated by the end, sincere eyes dancing over your face as you nod to his words.

“What about—I saw the girl. The night before I had to leave.” He shakes his head. “I assume those were hers.” “I guess,” he replies. “I—she’s been doing double-duty as a concierge. I asked her to come up and help me plan some big, elaborate way to tell you I love you, and when I turned around—she had the wrong idea, I guess. She knew Dieter Bravo. She didn’t know me. You—you don’t have to believe me—but I’m not a good enough actor to make this up.”

“You’re right. You’re not,” you chuckle smally, and he laughs too. “I believe you.”

“Please—please say something.” You swallow nervously.

“I—I don’t know what to say, Dee. I—I just felt so betrayed. Like everything I knew about you was just some elaborate ruse, a way to get what you wanted—”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, please—” “Dee—let me finish. You decided from day one that I would use you and leave you, and you let your own assumption come to fruition. I was never in it for your name, or your money, or anything. I was in it because I love you, too. With everything I am.” He nods, a brilliant smile practically visible through his mask; your use of the present tense all he needs to hear.

“I brought something—” He reaches into his pocket, the necklace dangling between you. Despite your confessions, you still feel miles away from him, separated on the benches.

“I—I don’t know that I deserve that,” you admit. “I left. I didn’t keep my promise.”

“You left because I made you,” he corrects. “It says everything about me—about who I thought I was--and nothing about you.”

“Who are you, Dee? Really?”

“I—Dieter is a mask. A character. I—I got too close, and I didn’t—he took over. I thought it was better like that. But you—you brought out the best of me. The real me. No masks, no characters. Just me.” You nod. “I am who I am because of you—and I like it that way.”

You’re rendered speechless; still, he gestures with the necklace in his hand, and you stand. He stands too, approaching slowly before relatching the necklace around your neck reverently. When you look up, still mere inches from him, it all feels very reminiscent of the rooftop; of what got you here to begin with. You pull his mask down until it pulls off his ears, then remove yours, as well.

“Say it again,” you ask gently, matching his eye contact.

“Say what again?” He can’t look away from you—not willing to let you slip away again.

“Tell me how you—Diego Bravo—feel about me.” “I love you,” he responds confidently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you,” he repeats, pressing one to your cheek. You finish the sweep for him, meeting your lips to his for the first time. Every ounce of passion, of feeling, of regret, of love seems to pour between you, both of you resisting pulling away until the last moment, only to press your foreheads together instead.

“I love you,” you finish, gazing into his eyes, both your faces mirroring small smiles and adoring looks.

Two Years Later

“Mr. Bravo! Tell us—what was it like to direct your own movie?” “A dream come true,” Diego replies gleefully.

“They’re calling it a triumph in film! What was the inspiration behind Beautiful Things?” He glances behind him; you accompanied him to this red carpet, dressed beautifully, the necklace reflecting the camera flashes, smiling like the sun when you catch his gaze. He loved you just as much in that ratty Cliff Beasts shirt as this, but you urge him with your eyes to answer the question.

“Love,” he replies wistfully. “And the desire to surround yourself with beauty.”

“This is a big change from your acting career—a full rebrand. What caused you to explore your life outside of Dieter Bravo, to rebrand as Diego?” He reaches behind him, pulling you to his side. You preferred letting him take the spotlight, keeping yourself tucked away, but he wanted to show you off like his most precious prize.

“Someone reminded me who I really am—who I want to be. What I want to do. What passion feels like.”

"Aw, how cute," the interview coos. "And what about you, Miss? I heard you've started your own business--a service for celebrities looking to clean up their image?"

"Oh, yes. We're just starting out, so hoping for success--"

"I'm proof positive--she does a great job!" Diego interjects, but you squeeze his hand.

"But this isn't about that, or me--it's about Dee," you redirect.

"Well I hear there's a dedication to 'someone special' at the end of the movie--who I assume is you." Diego nods in agreement. "How are you feeling about that?" "I've never been prouder of him," you reply, and he beams. "He stuck through it--even when things got hard."

"Thanks to you," he smiles, and the interviewer melts.

“Do I sense wedding bells coming soon?” The interviewer raises her eyebrows, hopeful for a scoop.

He keeps his gaze on you as he answers.

“Sorry, a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.” With that, he presses a kiss to your temple, closing his hand around your hip.

“Well, congratulations, Mr. Bravo. It sounds like you’ve really found something you love.” “I did,” he replies, not looking away from you as you smile wistfully at him. “I did.”

TAGS: @i-love-movies @frasmotic @justanotherblonde23 @nicolethered @buckybarneshairpullingkink @scorpio-marionette @songsformonkeys @pedrostories @littlemisspascal @gracie7209 @fangirl-316 @spideysimpossiblegirl @mariwinns16 @ajeff855 @hungrhay @revna-qasst @iwoulddieformanymen @ordinarylokix @thesmutslut

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x y/n #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble #the bubble fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n

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stellar-imagines · 3 years

Text

SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝that's a little dark.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Class 1-A ]

「 Class 1-A with an emotionless reader who gets hit with a quirk that make them turn back into a child along with the mentality of a child. In the end, Class 1-A and then fluff ensues with them basically fawning over a cute shy and easily flustered reader. But, they discover something about you.」

You couldn't remember what you did yesterday but it felt like you had the greatest sleep in your entire life. As your eyes adjusted to the surprisingly bright light, you slowly got up and looked at your surroundings. The place was unfamiliar and for a second, you found yourself rubbing your eyes and yawning. It seemed that you were in an infirmary of some sort but you don't recall going to school or anything. There were bandages around your arms and neck but it wasn't anything new.

"Oh, you're finally awake, my child." an old lady you didn't recognize swivelled around her office chair and hopped off.

"Who are you and where am I?" you asked, voice coming out a bit weaker than you had expected.

She identified herself as Recovery Girl — the nurse of the school and explained what had happened to you. It seemed like you got hit by a quirk in an unfortunate accident which caused you to turn back into a child with no memory of yourself in the future. You didn't believe it until you saw the different technologies and the date on the calendar. Never in your life you had felt so out of place in your entire life.

While the friendly old lady was trying her best to fill you in, the door to infirmary opened and a brown haired girl stepped in. She had has shoulder length, brown hair that's bobbed and curved inwards at the end. The girl looked at you for a moment, her eyes lit up and you could sense the relief in her eyes. She dropped her belongings and rushed towards the bed you had been sitting on. You backed away on instinct, slightly intimidated by how aggressive she was being.

”Where did you get those injuries from!? I thought you just got hit by a quirk on accident!” she exclaimed, looking at the gauze wrapped around your wrists and neck.

”Calm down. You’re scaring the poor girl.” Recovery Girl stepped in before this brown haired stranger did anything to you.

Recovery Girl explained your situation to the girl who quickly understood the situation. She then approached you but this time, she did it cautiously and ensured that you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable nor intimidated by her. After a quick introduction, you leaned that she was Uraraka Ochaco and supposedly one of your classmates. She got down to your eye level and attempted to befriend you. She tried asking a few questions about yourself. You could answer the simplest questions like ones about yourself. However when it came to questions about the times you spend in UA, you shook your head to everything, none of them sounded familiar to you.

Uraraka spoke in a gentle manner that you were not used to and it didn't take long for you to get comfortable around her. She entertained you by telling stories about her life in UA and heroes. The brunette managed to make you smile a bit with her way of storytelling which included a bit of exaggeration here and there along with the occasional hand gestures.

"Uraraka-san? Are you ready to go back to the dorms?" another unfamiliar voice was heard from the entrance of the infirmary. You saw a few heads peek into the infirmary, those you did not recognize at all.

With the help of Uraraka, your situation was explained to the new people that just arrived. It didn't take long for your classmates to gather around you and pointing out how cute you were. Though it was a bit embarrassing to be put under the spotlight, you quite liked the feeling of having so many people care about you. It made you think about how bright the future seemed for you.

You were brought back to the dorms where you met up with your other classmates. Those who knew about your current situation quickly explained what was going on with you to avoid any misunderstanding and confusion. You stood awkwardly at the entrance, fiddling with the hem of your dress and looking down to avoid eye contact. Suddenly, you were pushed forward by an unknown force, falling on your knees.

“Who left their fucking child here?” a scary looking guy glared down at you as you tried recovering from the small fall you had.

”Hey, Bakugou! Mind your language!” his friend whispered at the ash blonde who just clicked his tongue in response.

Their loud voices startled you which resulted in you to hide behind Uraraka's legs as if it was the safest place in the world. You gripped tightly on her skirt, hiding yourself from the people you didn't recognize. Loud voices always made you nervous and scared, it reminded you of your mother whenever she was unsatisfied with your performance. Uraraka let her hand stroke your hair to soothe your nerves a little. Ashido stood in front of the two of you with her hands on her hips, looking like a mother reprimanding their child.

"Bakugou, you're scaring [First Name]!" the pink haired girl scolded Bakugou who seemed a bit confused.

"You're telling me this brat is [Nickname]?" he closed the distance between the two of you with a few large strides. He stared at your for a few seconds to study your face a bit. It didn't take him that long to actually recognize a few familiar features and eventually he walked off, muttering something under his breath.

"I've never seen her like this before!" Uraraka cooed as you continued to hide behind her legs. You were never the type to be in the center of attention and didn't have any friends in when you were young because of how shy and awkward you were. Ashido crouched down and offered you a small jar of cookies that she had found in the kitchen.

"Should we send her home? She might be more comfortable staying with her parents." Yaoyorozu suggested, watching you munching on the cookie that you've been handed to.

"I think its best we tell her family about it this." Iida took it upon himself to pull out his phone and prepare to dial your home.

”Are we all having a sleepover?” you spoke up after being silent almost the entire time you arrived at the dorms.

"I don't want to go home." Everyone stopped to stare at you for a while, some surprised because it was the first time they've heard you since you came back. The girls looked at each other for a while as if they were silently communicating with one another. Midoriya who seemed to be the first one to notice that you seemed a bit uncomfortable, crouched down in front of you.

"You can stay here with us if you want. I'm sure everyone is okay with that." the viridian haired male gave you a gentle smile that made you feel a bit relaxed.

"Do you like having sleepovers, [First Name]-chan?" Ashido plopped down right next to you.

"I don't have friends and mommy doesn't like having me around." you mumbled.

"That's silly. I'm sure your mother is worried about you." Iida replies.

"Nu uh, mommy strangles me like this every night.” you shook your head lightly and wrapped your hands around your neck to imitate someone strangling you. The room immediately grew silent at your comment, clearly unsure of how to respond to your oddly specific comparison.

"Haha, good joke [First Name]-chan!" Kaminari patted your head gently, his laugh clearly a forced one.

"Mommy used to pull my hair too."

You never the friendly type of person to begin with anyways. From the very first day you got into UA, you were quite anti-social, never initiating any conversations or made effort to befriend anyone. However, it was quite surprising to know that you've been abused when you were younger. Almost everyone seemed shocked by the revelation and had no idea how to react.

"My mom gave me this scar." Todoroki crouched down next to you and gestured to the scar over his eye.

”I can’t believe that the only thing closed off people have in common is the fact that they’ve been abused.” Jirou muttered out loud.

"Okay, don't worry! We're all having a sleepover tonight!" Uraraka beamed brightly which made your eyes light up like a Christmas tree. A small smile made its way to your features and you couldn't help but sway excitedly.

"Everyone is joining right?"

There was no way they could refuse those hopeful eyes of yours, not when you have been through so much at such an age. They all seemed eager, suggesting a movie, snacks and games.One particular ash blonde looked indifferent, hands shoved into his pockets as he began to slowly walk away from the crowd of people. The first person to notice that he was making his way back to his own room was Iida.

"Where are you going Bakugou-kun?" the class president had asked as if it was a natural that Bakugou was also supposed to be a part of this so called 'sleepover'. Bakugou glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing at Iida as if he had gone insane.

"What makes you think that I will join this stupid—" the ash blonde gestured at whatever was going on.

"But a sleepover is not one without everyone." your quiet voice interrupted, your small hands tugging at his pants. He held his tongue after seeing Iida wildly gesture at him not to be so mean to you. The entirety of the class seemed to be really hell bent on giving you what you wanted.Bakugou felt his eyebrows twitching and began weighing his options.

Sero, Ashido, Kaminari and Kirishima were openly pleading him to stay while some others seem to believe that Bakugou would never want to sit down for a stupid sleepover. The ash blonde gave in, realizing that no matter what he chose, it won't be any different. If he chose to not participate, he probably won't be able to fall asleep from all the noise. And the possibly of witnessing these extras embarrass themselves didn't sound too bad.

"Fine! You guys are so annoying....." Bakugou grumbled. Your eyes lit up at his change of heart and began tugging him enthusiastically towards the common area’s couch.

Why does he agree to the stupidest things?

Total: 1717 words Published: 05.06.2021

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ We tried our best for this scenario. Hope we reached your expectations! We hope you liked it! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting it! Tumblr has changed how the asks look and it looks very different. Hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki

Requests are open! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

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remember-to-be-gentle · 3 years

Text

This one may be long...

Subject: BNHA, Dabi aka Touya Todoroki + Enji Todorki, Fuyumi Todoroki, Natuso Todoroki, and a little Shouto if you squint

Title: House Party Bully 3 (NSFW, fem reader)

Trigger Warning: Non con, pregnancy, bisexual, lactation, obsession, possessive behavior, bullying, stalking, blackmail, crying

Still shaking from Enji's "inspection," Touya whisked you out of the house and pushed you into his car. You could barely process what was happening when he tore off away from the house. The overpowering smell of weed grounded you, forcing you into reality. The very same reality where you'd just been split open by your bully's father's cock because you were pregnant. You glanced over at Touya who was staring straight ahead at the road, the car going a little too fast and his his knuckles white from their grip on the steering wheel.

Just what had Enji said to force Touya into inviting you over? Granted a man like Enji must have kept his family on a tight leash, a leash tight enough to keep a record of how much weed Touya smoked and when.

The silence in the car was broken when Touya said, "Do you think he hurt the baby?" His voice was tight as his grip on the steering wheel.

Of all the things to focus on with what just happened in his house and his priority wasn't even you. You snorted and turned away from him. Of course he only cared about the unborn fetus inside you. To him and his family you were simply a liability for their reputation and a walking womb that needed to be fed. "Fuck off. I want to go home."

He grunted.

With a new wave of fear slowly coiling in your stomach, you realized Touya was in fact taking you home. He knew where you lived. He'd known where you lived all along. How many opportunities had he had to make your life hell outside of school? How many times had he driven here and parked where he could watch you as he struggled with the desire to burst your tiny bubble of peace?

He parked in front of your house and waited for you to exit the car before he made for your front door. He let himself inside with a snide, "You really gotta learn to lock the door."

Slowly, you followed, legs still shaking as you made your way inside. "How long have you known where I live?"

Touya was in your kitchen, helping himself to the Chex Mix you kept on the counter. "It wasn't hard. Just did some reverse image searching and compared them to Google Maps. Plus you didn't hide your location on SnapChat. By the way, don't accept friend requests from strangers or people who're friends with people who hate you."

Hot anger sizzled on your skin. "I didn't ask how," you said from the door way, "I asked when."

That got him stop. "Does it matter? You've always been mine." He shoved a handful of pretzels into his mouth. "You're mine to fuck with when I please." He swallowed. "Or fuck when I please."

"I don't belong to you," you snarled. How dare he. He'd done enough damage to your life: destroying your reputation at school, invading the only peace you had, raping you at his party and then knocking you up before he let his dad have a turn. Fuck him. You didn't belong to anyone and especially not him.

Touya laughed. A genuine, deep, terrible laugh. He made his way across the room, heavy shoes creating a steady beat of thunder as he towered over you. A slender finger poked into your stomach, right where Enji had pointed before, the nail sharp as it pressed into your skin. "We may not have had anything physical keeping us together before," he spat, "but now we do. With my kid growing in your belly, no one can deny you're mine. Not when he's growing. Not when he's teething on your tits. And especially when he introduces himself with my name."

You pushed him away. "Get away from me. Get out of my apartment."

Touya stared at you for a moment, then walked back into the kitchen and scribbled his number on your calendar. "Call me when you want your car back. Or when you miss me. Whichever comes first." And with that, he bumped his shoulder into you and got back into his car. That sinking feeling of fear returned as you realized your car was still at his house and you'd have to deal with his family alone.

*******************************************************

The next morning you dressed for school. It had been a long, tiring debate the night before if you should even go back. So much had happened in just a few weeks and you'd done your best to keep your head down and listen to the lectures, but now you were pregnant and without your car. You could always call Touya and have him bring it, but then you'd give in to what he wanted: you forced to rely on him, tying yourself further to his whims - marking you as his.

Instead you'd opted to summon an Uber, go to your classes and get home with no time in between to so much as look at the library. You steeled yourself and stepped outside only to see the car that almost hit you outside the Todoroki mansion sitting idly with the engine running.

Enji sat behind the wheel, cartoonishly large in comparison to the vehicle. When he saw you, he leaned over and opened the door. "Get in, I'm driving you to school."

And just how would that look with you showing up to school with your bully's father and the most feared professor on campus? Rumors would already be spreading about your absence and odd behavior. The moment someone guessed you were pregnant, and you started to show, any hope for a normal college life would be over with no hope of recovery. "No. Thanks."

You turned and pulled your phone out for the Uber, but then Enji said, "Your scholarship relies on you being a model student, doesn't it?"

You froze.

"An academic advisor isn't going to be too keen on letting you keep that money when you've been knocked up by a campus lowlife, even if his father is a respected member of the faculty." He patted the passenger seat. "And while I can't fix the fact that you're losing that scholarship, I can pay your tuition and medical bills. Delivering and raising a baby isn't cheap. So get in the car before you walk away with nothing."

He was right. Of course he was fucking right. This was Enji Todoroki, the man who has his entire family turning a blind eye to his debaucherous acts. He wasn't going to let you go even if you died, not when his grandkid was growing inside you. With as much of your dignity you could gather, you climbed into the car and let Enji drive you to campus.

"After your last class," he said, "come to my office. You have an appointment." When you didn't respond he added, "For the baby." He had said he'd be footing the medical bills. Did that mean Enji was going to be there for everything? The pap smear, birth, and recovery? You shivered. Touya knew his father was going to be overprotective and manipulative. He knew his overbearing nature would have you crawling back to him, back to an overbearing man you were at least familiar with.

When Enji parked at the school, you hopped out and started walking toward your first class. “Thanks for the ride.” You tried to put as much distance between you and him as possible, but Enji was large and fast. He caught up to you easily, keeping silent stride and never leaving your side. That remained true for the rest of the day. Between classes you caught his eye, and when he didn’t have a class to teach, he followed you or worked on his computer outside your classroom, just within eyesight.

Rumors were already beginning to start, you could feel it, people glancing at you and Enji. They probably thought you were either sleeping with him or you’d grievenced him in some way. Hopefully they’d assume the latter. You'd rather people think you'd gotten caught for cheating than you tried to sleep your way to better grades.

This behavior continued for days. A week almost passed before you realized you hadn’t seen Touya. No bullying, only stares from your classmates and teachers, which was almost worse. You knew what to expect from Touya, you could blow him off and tell him to fuck off, and if he got too into it, sometimes your classmates would tell him to fuck off, too. But now you didn’t know what they were thinking, how they were judging you. You were alone except for Enji’s heavy gaze and now really did consider that you may be missing him.

After your last class, you knew better than to fight Enji on him taking you home, your car was still at his house after all, and he was stronger and faster. You climbed into his car and stared at the window, waiting to see the neighboring apartments and familiar street signs. They never came. Instead you recognized another set of houses, the same ones you’d parked in front of the night of the party. “Wait,” you said, “this isn’t the way to my apartment.”

“No, its not.” Enji agreed. “Its not proper for the future mother of my son’s child to be living alone in a run down apartment. You’ll be living, or at least spending most of your time, with us from now on.” Before you could protest, he tapped a heavy finger on a piece of paper that sat on the dashboard. You picked it up and nearly cried. It was a copy of your lease with an approved early termination of contract. “Don’t worry about moving your things,” he said, “The boys and I will handle it.”

A tear slid down your cheek. They’d taken your life from you.

You jumped when you felt a finger run across your cheek, wiping away the tear. “If you don’t want to share a room with Touya, that’s fine. There’s plenty of rooms in the house.”

*******************************************************

As your stomach grew, so did Enji's overprotectiveness and Touya's absence. He hadn't even updated his insta since the party. You almost admitted you missed him. You could brush off Touya's rude remarks about how fat you were getting. You couldn't brush off Enji's furnace of a hand as it felt up your swelling stomach. With your insta DMs taunting you with that swollen blue send button. All it would take for help was to press it. But pressing it would mean admitting that you needed him. It was almost tempting. Almost.

Enji did make you move into the mansion, which you thought meant spending every waking moment with Touya, but he was rarely there. Even when he was, he would only play Mario-kart with his friends or ignore you completely. Despite his possessive behavior, he was sticking to his guns about making you call him first.

Your room was thankfully away from Touya's, sandwiched between his younger siblings, Fuyumi and Natsuo. They were all incredibly kind, volunteering to bring you food and anything else you need. They even helped you start to put your things away as it was becoming harder to move with your growing stomach. Although you couldn't help noticing they seemed to eye you up when your back was turned.

And then Rei and Enji announced they'd be going out of town for the weekend. You thought this would be a relief, not having to deal with Enji's overprotectiveness for three days and Touya still being mostly MIA, but you quickly understood that no one in this house could be trusted.

"Is there anything we can get you?" Fuyumi asked, seated at your desk with Natsuo leaning beside her.

At this point, you were about four months into your pregnancy. Your stomach wasn't enormous, but it was getting hard to move around. Fuyumi volunteered to buy you maternity clothing and Natsuo often brought you food, which was usually fast food, but still appreciated. You'd grown comfortable with asking these two for things you needed. "I'm okay," you said, "I just need to get some pads. Hopefully I can get them from the store tomorrow." Your car was still here, after all, and despite being in the mansion, you hadn't managed to find your keys. Touya or Enji had to have them.

Natsuo twitched. "Pads?" Having not know him for that long, you weren't sure what that meant quite yet. You'd seen it only s few times when your pregnancy was mentioned.

Regardless, you blushed. Speaking about the changes your body was going through with your future, unwanted, in-laws wasn't a comfortable topic of conversation. "I don't have a proper bra to absorb all the milk," you confessed.

Fuyumi seemed like she was trying not to look at you. "You're lactating?" Or rather, you realized, she was trying not to look at your chest.

Hesitantly you answered, "Yeah."

Silence in the room settled heavy as a boulder. Natsuo's adam's apple bobbed. "H-how much?" His voice was tight.

You did not like this line of questioning. "Does it matter?"

Fuyumi glanced at Natsuo who nodded. Together, they moved at once, flanking your sides with the efficacy of lions. "Don't scream," Fuyumi said and then she yanked your shirt up. Just as you'd said, the front of your bra was dark with milk.

Natsuo was fast to pull a tit free, groaning at the sight of your puffy and swollen areolas. He ran the cold pad of his thumb over your nipple, making you squirm. "Fuck," he groaned, "I've waited too long for this."

Fuyumi did the same, her fingers just as cold. "You think you have? I'm older than you, remember?"

"What are you doing?!" You demanded. You tried to get away but they easily pinned you against your new bed, your back to the mattress and tits up for their viewing pleasure. The swollen part of your stomach didn't help either.

Slowly, Fuyumi explained, "Mom always let us have some of her milk when she was lactating but had to stop awhile ago because of some medication." She pinched you nipple and watched you bite down the moan that threatened to escape. Your breasts felt swollen all the time now that you were making milk. It both hurt and felt far too good to massage them yourself, milk often squirting out if you pressed too hard. With both of them hanging over you like, you knew the milk would flow easily and that would only encourage them more.

Natsuo picked up where his sister left off, "So we've been waiting for someone to give us a new supply. And you're it." He gave a tentative lick to your nipple, watching the skin stretch and swell until it stood erect and ready to suck. "I'll have to thank Touya for bringing you to us."

With that, both Fuyumi and Natsuo latched onto your nipples. Their hot mouths were voracious, starved. Fuyumi lapped and suckled while Natsuo used his teeth and pulled.

Your body reacted naturally as if they were the child still growing inside you. You could feel your teats leaking, all too happy to give up what they'd produced for hungry mouths. Gasps left your throat between the begging for them to stop and pleasure. Your core was becoming hot, liquid, as if it were melting.

You tried to push them off, but the siblings held firm, suckling back and forth until you were dizzy.

Natsuo suddenly pulled off, gasping for air as clear fluid dripped down his chin. "Fuck, I can't take this anymore." He got off the bed and spread your legs, roughly shoving your skirt up and pulling your panties aside to feel the slick that had gathered. He whistled, low and impressed. “Dad said you’d be easy, but I didn’t think you’d get so wet from us just sucking on your tits.”

“Don’t,” you begged, trying to push him and Fuyumi off you, but Natsuo was just like his big brother: stronger than you and bigger than you. He pulled his cock free and slid it inside you. He wasn’t as big as Touya or his father, but he was long and pushed in and in and in until you thought your swollen womb had been pushed into your lungs. “Shit,” he groaned, “you’re fucking tight. How did either of them even fit in here?”

Fuyumi didn’t speculate, continuing to suckle on your breast, occasionally using her hand to stimulate the milk glands.

Natsuo didn’t wait for you to adjust, sliding himself in and out at a steady pace that had you whimpering. In this sad, pathetic moment, you could admit it. You could admit that you missed Touya and wished he was here to protect you from his feral siblings as they had their way with you. Your phone was just on the nightstand, too, if you could roll over, you’d be able to call him. You needed him. The thought tasted like bile and booze.

Tears welled up in your eyes, but Natuso didn’t seem to notice or care, groaning at the sloppy sounds your cunt made as he fucked you. Fuyumi did notice and pulled off your teat. “Hey,” she said, “you’re okay.” She kissed your cheek, but kept one hand on your breast. “There’s no need to cry, we’re just trying to get to know you before the baby comes.” A kiss along your jaw, another one lower, where she sucked and bit at the skin. All you could think was Touya wouldn’t be happy if that bruised.

And then the door opened.

Hope exploded in your gut like an unwanted orgasm, every muscle in your body tensing, ready to explode off the bed and into your savior’s arms. For the first time in your life you hoped it was Touya coming, hoped it would be the shaggy mess of dyed-black hair and those cruel cerulean eyes that would demand to know what’s happening before he pulled you away to his room. You could handle his mocking but not his siblings. You wanted it to be Touya so much it hurt.

And it wasn’t.

The youngest Todoroki poked his head in, heterochromic eyes blinking slowly at the sight in front of him. His pale skin turned red, anger coloring his features as his eyebrows narrowed. For a moment you thought he’d defend you, but you knew better, you knew these siblings were fucked up and selfish. With Natuso buried deep inside you and Fuyumi still trying to get milk from your breast, you weren’t surprised at all when Shouto said, “You guys got started without me?”

Fuyumi and Natsuo scrambled to come up with an excuse, both their movements stopping as their attention shifted to focus on their little brother. The shot you needed. You ignored Natuso’s cock inside you and made for your phone, swiping it off the nightstand and quickly hitting the contact for A MAN WHO SHOULD NOT BE CALLED.

“Shit.” Both Fuyumi and Natuso swore.

They both tried to wrestle your phone away, but it was too late. Less than two rings and Touya’s voice flooded the room, “What’s going on?”

You were so relieved you almost started sobbing. “Help me!”

Fuyumi managed to grab your phone. Her face broke into an uneasy smile, fear making her pale into a sickly green “Everything’s fine, Touya-nii! We’re just playing a game and she’s a sore loser, right Natsu?”

“Right,” Natuso’s voice was shaking, “right, Fuyu.”

Heavy silence filled the room. They’d been exposed for their actual intentions. “I’m on my way. And I better not see any of you near her again.” Touya’s voice was a growl, deep, barely holding back his rage.

Shouto blinked, his color returning to normal. “You guys drank all the milk, didn’t you?”

Both Natsuo and Fuyumi looked horrified. Their little brother's own selfishness played against them.

Fuyumi and Natsuo scrambled out of the room, dragging Shouto with them.

You laid on the bed, a soreness washing over your body. Your violated cunt, your swollen breasts, your skin where Fuyumi kissed, and goosebumps from the cold. You didn’t have the energy to fix your clothes or even look at Touya when he entered the room. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel his heat and his anger. He didn’t say anything, though. He just fixed your clothes and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you to your feet before he brought you to his room.

The familiar smells of body odor, weed, and Touya enveloped you and you understood that no matter how much you didn’t want this, this was your safe space now.

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givemethatgold · 3 years

Text

Fix’er Upper Pt. 5

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive relationship, swearing, past drug use, alcohol

Word Count: 1.8k

Notes:

Parts ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR

Your injury, and consequential recovery time, couldn’t have come at a better time. The harvest was done and the apples had to rest before being pressed, which meant Frankie was now free to start working on your home. The work didn’t often require more than two hands so the days found you doing menial tasks being his gopher.

“You know,” Frankie had had to explain to you, “Go’fer this, go’fer that.”

This mainly consisted of you passing him tools while he was swearing under his breath in the attic, or groaning after rapping his knuckles under the sink, or white-faced and clinging to the weathervane on the roof.

You had discovered Frankie’s sweet tooth on the first day of renovations, not noticing until after he’d left for the day that more than half the cookies you’d baked that morning were already gone. Making sure he was kept happy, you had a new treat ready for when he walked in the door.

He was a coffee drinker though, and while you owned a coffee press you had never actually used it yourself, preferring tea leaves for your dose of caffeine. You’d tried, the first morning, to make a cup for him. You even googled How to Make a Cup of Coffee? to make sure you didn’t fuck it up.

You could laugh about it now, but the look on Frankie’s face after he’d taken his first sip made you worry you had poisoned him. He had spat the black sludge out and handed you back the mug with a look of bewildered disgust. Apparently, you needed to grind the beans first, who knew?

An efficient, if not quite comfortable, rhythm had been forged between the two of you over the past week and a half. Frankie would arrive at nine in the morning, scarf down half a dozen treats while discussing the day’s projects. You would run to town in his truck (yours was still at the autobody shop awaiting parts) and buy any supplies that would be needed while he set up the worksites and organized the tools that would be required.

You had added popping into the local café for a large coffee for Frankie and a red rooibos latte with almond milk for yourself. The first couple of days you had bought him a brownie too but stopped after he’d only half-finished the first one and mumbled through the crumbs in his mouth that yours were better. It only took you three days before the owner had your order ready for you before you even walked in the door, five days before you noticed the sidelong glances the little old ladies were giving each other as you walked out.

Small towns, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes, had the unique benefit and downfall of everyone knowing everyone else’s business. They’d quit with the hardly-concealed smirks if they knew how awkward working with Frankie was becoming.

You had been sure, in the immediate aftermath of waking up in Frankie’s arms while his truck sat in your driveway, that he was never going to speak to you again. The two of you and hopped out and began explaining away whatever conclusions Jacquie and Mark had made. Then Frankie, without even looking in your general direction, told Jacquie to get you inside and have your wrist looked at.

To his credit, he had taken care of everything regarding your truck for you. The tow truck came and hauled it to the yard, Frankie had commandeered the inspection report and, after calling them out on trying to swindle you into buying unnecessary parts, had ordered what was needed and paid.

You had, naturally, argued against this but you both knew you weren’t in a position to afford it. Frankie shut down your arguments gracefully, and broke his apparent vow of silence, with a gruff “I’m just doing it so I can drive my damn truck without you changing the radio station.” The absolute charmer.

It was your damn house, though, so you decided you'd talk as much as you wanted and it would be up to him to interact. Either that or you had music blaring from the radio, never playing his favourite country station purely out of spite.

Never quite sure if he was listening or not, you rambled on about anything and everything. You explained your vision for the house and the plans you had for a greenhouse in the yard. Memories from your childhood were described in great detail, as were embarrassing stories from your year in college. Baking tips, waxing poetic about your love for sunflowers, interesting animal facts, you'd even downloaded a Word of the Day App and made a game of fitting the words into your daily uninterrupted monologues.

It took three days for Frankie to break.

You had been reminiscing about your trip to Disneyland as a child when he abruptly cut in, voice muffled due to the nails being held between his lips.

"You never talk about it."

You assumed he was referring to the little all-day nap you’d shared in his truck, as it had yet to be spoken of, but were taken aback by the slight accusatory tone.

"Talk about what?"

He took so long to reply, you started to think that he had interrupted purely to shut you up. The silence demanded an explanation though, so you kept your mouth shut and waited.

Clambering down from the attic, where he had been strengthening the trusses throughout the sagging section of roof, Frankie pinned you with his gaze and softly repeated himself.

"You never talk about it. The time in your life when you were married." He must have seen your hackles rise because he quickly set down the hammer and held his hands up in a placating wave.

"You still haven't answered my question about being in the army," was your quick response, finished with an ever-so-mature, "so there."

With a resigned sigh, Frankie twisted his hat around backward and scrubbed his hands across his face. "Come on" -waving you towards the patio doors- "these kinds of conversations require fresh air and a drink."

Reluctantly you followed him outside but rather than sinking down onto the porch swing you opted to lean against the post facing it. Opening two ciders, which you now had free access to, you handed one to Frankie and watched him over the top of the bottle.

Half of your drink was gone and your mind had wandered to greenhouse and flower garden placement before Frankie spoke again. His voice low and quiet catching you by surprise.

"Yeah," he broke the silence with another ragged sigh, "I, uh, I served. Started in the Air Force, worked my way up to Special Tactics Squadron. Made enough noise there to get recruited to Delta Force."

"Oh, fuck," your exclamation was soft with shock "you've seen some shit then." Blast your runaway mouth and its inability to wait for your brain to catch up before blurting out your inner thoughts. "I'm sorry!-"

"No, it's okay" Frankie interrupted, trying to reassure you and remove the horrified look that had come across your face.

"No, no, that was totally uncalled for. Brad, my um, my husband, he was a Marine. He hated talking about it, said no one liked talking about it. I should have known."

"It's not that," Frankie reassured you again, "You were the first person to ever ask me about it, in all the time I've lived here. Just took me by surprise."

Leaning over in the swing, Frankie pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and handed you a photo from inside it. Five men beamed up at you. You could recognize them from a few of the photos that had rested on Frankie's mantle, they looked older in this one.

"Tell me about them?" you asked, knowing that most of the request was due to curiosity but a small part of you hoped that if you kept him talking you could avoid the subject of your marriage.

The sun was beginning to set and you'd long moved inside to eat dinner by the time Frankie was done sharing. It must have been cathartic, you mused, for him to bare this much about himself. He had never looked more relaxed in all the time you'd known him, which wasn't saying much and it could just as easily been due to the amount of alcohol thrumming through his system.

The room fell into a companionable silence, each of you digesting the information that had been revealed. You were in awe of the fact that, despite the life of violence he had witnessed, Frankie still maintained his humanity. Even after a messy divorce and lost custody battle, Frankie continued to choose the path of healing. He was clean, was fighting for shared custody of his daughter again, running his own business, and still had found time to endear himself into the town's hearts.

Frankie was, for all his sharp edges and gruff words, a sweetheart.

It put into stark comparison how Brad had reacted to the lemons life had served him. Born into an upper-middle-class home, the only son, doted on by his parents, Brad had been raised into a life where every door was open to him. Despite this, or maybe because of it, he had grown hateful of those weaker than him. He was controlling but had just the right amount of charm to pass it off as caring.

"I've met men like that,"

You nearly jumped out of your skin from surprise. Looking at Frankie with wide-eyed shock you wondered again what the hell was in the cider. This was the second time you'd poured your heart out to a virtual stranger, but this time you hadn't even realized you'd started speaking your thoughts aloud.

Squaring your shoulders and holding Frankie's gaze you continued, almost challenging him to find someone worse than Brad had been.

"He made me quit college because he said he wanted to start a family. Then berated me and acted like it was all my fault every time the pregnancy test came back negative. You know what that asshole did?" Tears were threatening to fall but you held on to Frankie's gaze, "He had gotten a vasectomy months earlier. I didn't find out about it until after he died; going through paperwork that had been stored in his desk."

Frankie was up on his feet now, pacing around the kitchen island, too distraught to keep still. How could anyone be so cruel? Let alone be so cruel to someone as sweet and pure as you. He hated seeing you cry but knowing you weren't receptive to people being in your personal space, wasn't sure how to comfort you.

Acting on pure instinct he grabbed the kettle and started preparing you some tea, not allowing himself to ruminate how he knew which flavour you preferred. Setting your favourite pottery mug in front of you, along with the little honey pot, he also decided to grab the fluffy throw blanket off your couch.

"I get it now," he thought to himself offhandedly, "why women have so many fuckin' blankets and pillows in every room."

Placing the throw around your shoulders he was preparing to say goodnight and let you have some peace but was stilled by your hand reaching up and covering his.

"Please. Stay."

Part SIX

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senju-sekhmet · 3 years

Text

The Leash (Part 12, Fin.)

Summary: Your rescue was supposed to be as smooth as these missions can be. However very quickly, Tobirama faces off against an enemy that has no form, color or smell - and time is running short, very fast. Unless he figures out what truly holds you hostage, your life will be lost. Warnings (for the finished work): Blood, illness, descriptions of heavy injuries and graphic violence, torture (both depicted and implied), needles, morally grey territory, human experimentation, panic attacks, character death, angst with a happy ending ~8600 words (this chapter, finished work: 83.600) Previous: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5; Part 6; Part 7; Part 8; Part 9; Part 10; Part 11

Read on AO3!

Final chapter! To all the brave souls that kept up with this fic until now: THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! <3 Disclaimer below, as always!

DISCLAIMER! My super self-indulgent work comes to an end! I hope this makes up a bit for all the angst that happened and - stick around until the end for more notes from silly me <3

_________

The burn had faded.

Abruptly as ever, and it was followed by nightmares that you knew well. Nightmares whose intensity paled in comparison to being burning alive, but nonetheless nightmares they were. They also passed, and back you were in nothingness. Drifting under the surface that you couldn’t break through.

You had not died, had you? They had kept you alive. They still were. It must’ve been Hashirama. Maybe Tobirama had been there, too.

It was so tiring to think of all this.

The darkness began to stretch. You still were suspended in it, held down - bound somehow - but the nightmares didn’t return. Instead a different kind of sensation set in: itches. Everywhere. Inside, outside - wherever that was, anymore. A headache, maybe? You felt… warm. It became uncomfortable quickly, but nowhere near the sensation of withdrawal - which might be because alongside all this came numbness. As though someone had cut the chains of suspension, lowered you down and put a weighted blanket over you. It still was confining, but in a way also a shallow repose.

You were too frightful to trust it.

You didn’t know what was happening anymore.

You just wanted to rest, but the itch and the aches everywhere were keeping you from it. How annoying.

______

His heart beat achingly and there was a tightness in his chest that felt awfully familiar. The only reason he wasn't being crushed again by heartache again was his brother tending to you.

It had been twelve hours since Tobirama and his brother had literally pushed you off of the verge of death. Now, it was time to pay the price for keeping your heart beating and your lungs breathing.

Violent shivers ran through your body, the sheets were drenched from sweat. Hashirama was inspecting ink on the seals that kept supporting you - ensured your heart beat strongly, upped the blood pressure, sustained your organs more than your body would right now. Wordlessly, Tobirama handed him new drenched parchments to replace the dried up ones at the centers of the seals that released the medication they each had been soaked in.

His hand trembled slightly. "The severity-"

Hashirama cut him short firmly. "Her condition is critical, but stable. All she needs now is time." His brother gazed up at him. “You should rest more, Tobirama.”

His scarlet eyes glared at him, lifting from your pitiful form only momentarily. “I will once Y/n is better.”

It wasn't the first time Tobirama had spoken up. When the true brunt of the overload had started to hit you initially, he nearly panicked - what little peace of mind he had found combusted in an instant and his concern for had him back in a vice grip. His brother on the other hand had not been impressed; he had known it would come to this and his confidence alone had reassured him. Time and again he had told Tobirama it was going to be fine.

All it needed was time.

The man didn’t question his brother, of course - but it wouldn’t easily quench his worries, either. Not when you were lying here, trembling, feverish - whimpering. And he - helpless to do anything but watch. Like before.

He was tired of seeing you teetering on the edge of death with no means of pulling you back. He didn't want to wait anymore for your recovery, he wanted things to start becoming better now. He was tired of being helpless.

He'd spent every waking second by your side until he knew you were well again.

______

More time passed.

Possibly. The blanket didn’t lift. The nightmares - the nightmares didn’t return, either. That surprised you. The circle… the circle was broken, somehow.

Was this death then, after all?

The itch had faded too, slowly - the uncomfortably warm sensation, the aches - it all went away. You were your sweet nothingness, far away from all you had endured, your horrible memories.

No pain.

You could stay here comfortably. If this was death, then you were fine with it. Though you felt one ache still - Tobirama.

He would never forgive himself. If only you could tell him, one last time - that you were alright, that he gave his all. That you loved him and would do so forever.

That sorrow haunted your bliss. And it wouldn’t fade. Quite the contrary - it became stronger and stronger. The stronger it became, the more sensations and thoughts broke through. At first, your mind began to shake off the dark stupor that held it captive until now. Your thoughts became clearer. The process of all you went through - the lack of nightmares now, the breaking of the agonizing routine that previously had governed your life cruelly - it could, should mean one thing. But you didn’t dare to delve into the thought more. Instead, you focused on the sensations that you picked up. Presences. You didn’t feel alone in your darkness anymore. Someone was watching you. You knew them well. Countless times, you’ve traced over his chakra network gently as an inward embrace too tender to put into words.

Tobirama.

He must be doing the same. Occasionally, there was another presence you could identify too, after your mind cleared up more: Hashirama’s.

It made you reel - with excitement. It must mean one thing?

And yet no matter how much you wanted to reach out - you didn’t exactly know how. It wasn’t like you were asleep. Either they put you into this state - or maybe you were too weak? - but every time you tried to shake off the nothingness that had become your comfortable cocoon, you ended up exhausting yourself to a point your mind started to drift away again. Maybe not yet.

You kept on digging your way out bit by bit, every time you felt able to. Senses were returning. At first, there was touch. Perception of yourself - not in the abstract sense, but in an acute way. Your legs, your arms. Your chest. The beating of your heart. Your hand being touched, Tobirama’s chakra warmly hailing and covering your network. At first you simply basked in that sensation. You wanted to return the gesture, but it wasn’t possible - that frightened you, but you didn’t question it. Yet. You just continued to work your way out of this. Every now and then, someone would grasp your jaw to pour a liquid in - the leash, you realised. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t resist it. After touch came hearing. There wasn’t much, really. The birds chirping outside. Conversations between Tobirama and his brother, though you were too tired to follow them, really.

Finally - finally came your eyes. When you opened your eyes again for the first time in who knew how long, your lids felt as heavy as leaden blankets. You almost wanted to close them again directly, figuring the endeavour was just too tiresome.

If it wasn’t for the face by the side of your bed.

His scarlet eyes lit up in a rare streak of excitement. Excitement you could identify as such, at the very least. He suddenly was closer - you realised he must’ve gotten up from his chair to sit by your side - you felt a warm sensation on your hand. His was on it - and already, his chakra moved over your network. That you still had no access to. “Y/n?”, the jitter in his baritone voice was unlike him. Frightened, almost.

You forced yourself out of the proverbial swamp to give him a better look-over. As per usual, his facial markings were painted on perfectly, the black undergarment he wore when neither in battle nor in formal attire was spotless - and his white hair, spiky as per usual.

You realised then, you had thought you never would see his face again.

His brows furrowed and his lips formed a thin, turned-down line. “Y/n?”, he inquired again, now growing more worried. Something wet rolled over your cheek. A sound - you were sobbing.

You really were here, again. With him.

“T-Tobi…”, you croaked out, choking on your own voice. It didn’t sound like you. Raspy, blocked. Withered from not being used. More sobs followed that you had no control over.

Tobirama’s expression grew heartbreakingly sorrowful - his lower lip trembled. He nodded jerkily and extended a hand to cup your cheek gently; wipe at your tears tenderly. Carefully. As if too much pressure might harm you. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and then finally - “I’m here.” The jitter was gone from his deep voice. It was reaffirming now.

“I-I t-thought…”, you took a deep breath, working through every word slowly. “... I d-d-died.” The tears continued to roll down your cheeks as Tobirama caressed you.

Now he sounded decidedly pained. Haunted. “You almost did.” In an ironic way, his brutal honesty was reassuring. This really was Tobirama in front of you. “But you’re safe now. You’ll make it, Y/n.” With the determination in his voice, there was no question about that bit.

Suddenly, you felt an urge quell within you so desperately you were overwhelmed to even get the words out properly. You’d have moved on your own to sit up, were it not for the fact just keeping your eyes open was tantamount to running uphill at full speed. But you needed this, now. Badly. Achingly. “H-hold m-me, please,” you stuttered with your rusty voice.

Tobirama hesitated momentarily and stopped his caressing motion on your cheek. He swallowed, indecision clear on his face, “I’m not sure if I should-”

“D-damn it,” you hissed, each second letting your ache for him to be nearer grow more painful. Your sobs came out as wheezing sounds now, increasingly frustrated by the moment that really just lasted so very shortly.

Suddenly his arms wrapped around your chest and his warm face buried itself in the cold crook of your neck, letting you tilt your head to smell his hair. The fresh scent of his - when was the last time you’d smelled it? Whether it was sheer force of will or actually more hidden strength, you willed one of your thin arms to rest on Tobirama’s back that was heaving intensely. He was careful to not put any weight on you except for the contact of your bodies, his chest covering yours - you knew it, but all that mattered was he was here. The sheer purity of the moment snuffing out the ache, the fear - all of the torment and agony of the past days, weeks, whatever it has been.

You simply basked in this as you closed your eyes to feel the connection not just physically, but also from his chakra.

Alive.

You made it.

Although - “My c-chakra,” you whispered questioningly, not bothering to form a full sentence nor break the silence - the serenity - longer than you had to.

Tobirama’s breath came warm against your skin. “Sealed, right now. I’ll open it up-”

He wanted to move. “No,” you replied swiftly, with as much firmness as your weak voice could muster since your body certainly wouldn’t hold anyone back. “Stay.”

Wordlessly, he settled back against you to let the moment continue. Your damn chakra could wait, it would be muted anyway, wouldn’t it?

No matter how long you wanted to stretch this all out, tiredness was beginning to grip you. And despite the fight you put up, you couldn’t help the hand slipping off of Tobirama’s back and your eyes involuntarily closing, every now and then. You hated it. You’ve been away for too long.

Tobirama felt it too, of course. Despite your protest, he pulled back slowly to resume holding your hand gingerly in his. His scarlet eyes had a reddish hue to them now, but his expression was mellow. “You should rest again, Y/n.”

You huffed. “I b-believe I r-rested enough.”

A fine smile formed on his slips and he shook his head. “Not nearly enough, I’m afraid.”

You rolled your eyes in response. “T-tell me f-first. What h-happened.” And your tone left no question about how much you wanted to know, now.

Which Tobirama recognized easily with a sigh. He took a deep breath and his gaze wandered to the ceiling, his deep voice neutral now. You knew what this meant. “We’ve almost run out of leash and it was just through a trick that I learned the final secret to this damn drug. Had it taken any longer, the withdrawal might have killed you. It is thanks to Hashirama’s expertise the chakra overload didn’t, actually.” His effort to keep his voice neutral was failing slightly as the tremble returned to it.

So that was the itch, the ache. Interesting, because for chakra overload - you really hadn’t felt much.

“We managed it the same way we did during the withdrawal,” Tobirama explained, “But the reaction became severe nonetheless. You ran an extremely high fever we had to cool down and it was only due to sedation you weren’t in pain,” his eyes had wandered back to your face, studying it cautiously now. Almost as if he was searching for evidence to the contrary.

You, on the other hand, had to muster all your left energy to process the information and most looked as though you were ready to crash at any given second.

Surprisingly, Tobirama continued his explanation, even though his gaze became more worried. “The seals stabilised you throughout the rest of the overload reaction, which was… intense.” He paused for a moment, his voice having become more quiet. Once more he had to clear his throat before he found his voice again, visibly struggling to find the words and yet speaking clearly nonetheless. “Your condition still became critical. Like said, had it been any other than Hashirama healing you during the last withdrawal, you might have died.”

You exhaled breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding. Your gaze drifted over your blanketed self as the realisation hit you more and more.

Might have died.

Close. Everything had been so close.

You’d been running from one danger into the next, life being threatened each lasting second, no break in sight.

“Y/n,” Tobirama’s firm voice became more distant as drawing breaths was becoming harder again and you forcefully swallowed down tears. “Y/n,” he called out again, less firm - a hand stroked up your forearm gently.

“I d-don’t,” you began, trying to wrenched the words out past your sobs, “It’s- d-damn it!”, either your voice got stuck or the wheezing breaths made it to hard, but you couldn’t articulate the overwhelming amount of shock that coursed through your veins. At least you thought it was that. More like a conglomerate of shock, existential pain, sorrow and ultimately, despair.

Tobirama watched helplessly as you fell apart more and more, his eyebrows furrowing in a most desperate way. Once more he reached for your face but this time, his palm stroked your hair gently as his lower lip quivered in search for better words. He didn’t have any - most likely because he felt much the same, if you were to guess. Finally though - “You’ll be fine,” his baritone voice but a whisper, “You’re safe now.” Over and over again.

“I’m here for you.”

Although the moment wasn’t filled with serenity, you needed it. You needed to hear it - over and over again, to feel him caressing you, his chakra like a warm blanket on your network.

You survived, that was one thing.

But the danger - the danger was over.

Finally.

Exhale. Relax.

Eventually, the tears stilled and your breath evened out. Exhaustion claimed you fast now, but you wanted to keep gazing at his face. Tobirama’s expression had grown more mellow. He allowed it, for a bit longer. Eventually though - “Rest now, Y/n. I’m not - you’re not going anywhere. Allow me,” he pulled the blanket down your chest.

You still were littered with seals of course, but Tobirama’s fingers had already settled right in the middle of your chest in the center of the intricate chakra seal. A brief glow later, you could access your sluggish, muted chakra again. The comfort in that feeling alone sent you further down into drowsiness.

A pitiful sigh escaped your lips.

He covered you up with the blanket again. You thought you might have heard him again, but you couldn’t make out any words. Already, sleep had claimed you.

______

The next few times you woke didn’t differ much from one another; usually your strength lasted only long enough for you to open your eyes and stay awake for a short period of time before sleep claimed you again. Even so, the intervals began to increase and as they did, so did your strength to move your arms at least. It was frustrating nonetheless - lying flat on your back only was entertaining for so long. The spirit and mind weren’t as broken, worn out and torn as the rest of you, it seemed.

“I think I’ll go crazy at some point,” you huffed lowly. It was evening and the room was drenched in beautiful, reddish hues of the evening sun. “There really is nothing to do.”

Tobirama was sitting in the chair beside your bed, slowly raising up an eyebrow as his lips formed a fine smirk. “If you’re complaining again, then you must be recovering well,” he observed with dry irony, which you could only roll your eyes at. He had kept his promise - being there for you, any waking second. You suspected he knew since he administered the leash to you - and therefore he was well aware when you’d be awake again to talk to. Whenever you opened your eyes, he was there.

It was comforting. You weren’t doing well on your own, right now.

“Honestly Tobi, I want to see you bed-ridden for what - weeks? - you’re the one who quite literally has to be tied down before he’d actually rest, no matter what,” you scoffed back.

In ever so slight amusement, he pursed his lips more. “Don’t talk like you’re better at it, Y/n. I know for a fact were you able to, you’d be getting out and about even when you really, really should not.” The unspoken ‘like you had been’ hung in the air almost tangibly as you stared at him. You’d never hear the end of this.

“The ceiling, this room and its window can only entertain me for so long,” you pouted.

Tobirama’s smile grew more sympathetic. “It’s only going to get better now.”

You sighed. “I know,” you couldn’t prevent frustration leaking into your voice. Then, something occurred to you. “I noticed,” you began slowly, shifting ever so slightly to face him more. “I’m not… having these nightmares anymore, at all. After I’ve taken the leash. In fact…,” a frown formed on your face. “I do not dream at all. Did... did you do something to it?”, frankly you found the question pointless. You know he had to - you’d been getting the leash for an agonizingly long time now, and that definitely had changed.

His smile faded ever so slightly. “I did. During learning how to create the leash itself I realised it doesn’t require the exact psychotropic agents they tortured you with necessarily. Just something to latch onto, if you will. So right now, you’re just getting a light tranquilizer alongside the leash.”

You had to snort then. “I figured. Explains why I feel like crashing every time I’ve taken it.” He nodded solemnly in reply. Then, a smirk formed. “And why I feel so damn hazy all the time.”

Now, he rolled his eyes. “I’d consider it a positive side effect, to be honest.”

“To actually force me to rest?”

He sighed exasperatedly. “Certainly,” his tone was caustic. “Judging by how sharp your tongue has gotten again, I’m sure without the tranquilizing base solution of this leash, you’d be moving way too much right now.”

Your lips formed a kissing motion. “You love my sharp tongue, though.”

His eyebrows shot up instantly at the suggestiveness of the statement, but he couldn’t deny the chuckle that rumbled in his chest. He was too proud to answer verbally, though. Still, you were sure there was something of a reddish hue around his facial markings.

“Honestly, you should be glad I’m not making an offhanded comment about how my love keeps me tied to this ‘leash’, Tobi.”

“Y/n!”

That instantly let his deep voice rise in volume as it became quite stern. He had crossed his arms in front of his chest. Now, you were definitely sure he had gotten red.

You merely chuckled in reply that Tobirama found difficult to join in, but the proverbially ruffled feathers smoothed out again quickly. It was how you knew he was relieved - making fun at his expense without getting a smart remark in return. In a sense, you were quite glad you were able to again, really.

Besides, you didn’t exactly with the dead, dreamless sleep the tranquilising base of the leash provided. Your brain had been served excellent fodder for nightmares - drugs or no - and you didn’t want to revisit any. Was it an easy way out? Maybe, for a time.

Until you felt ready to tackle… everything again.

Fortunately though, recovery did speed up more and more. Each dose of the leash forced you to sleep it off for a handful of hours after which you felt rather groggy, and clouded of mind - under normal circumstances, you’d start to refuse to take medicine of this kind eventually, but this time you knew it truly must not be delayed. Not that Tobirama didn’t diligently make sure you always were right on time with it - at first he had to help you take it by supporting your chest, neck and head pretty much. By now, you managed to sit up straight already, which was a huge relief. A step closer to leaving this bed. Your muscles still groaned and ached from wounds you had suffered what seemed eons ago, on top of the general soreness you still felt due to damages you had taken during the withdrawal.

“Shouldn’t these have healed by now?”, you complained as you once more had settled against the headboard of the bed, letting out a low groan.

Tobirama withdrew after having helped you up there with his hands under your shoulders. He had refused to at first - you needed to rest still of course - but you threatened to just do it yourself if he wouldn’t. With gritted teeth he had pretty much hefted you up, under the premise you wouldn’t push yourself. The pain you felt now made him look like he was ready to yank you back down if you did so much as whimper again.

“Normally, they would have,” he explained sternly, his scarlet gaze inspecting you. “But without one’s own innate chakra reserves and your poor condition overall, it is unsurprising they did not heal well. Plus, you suffered again during the withdrawal.”

You sighed and opted to refrain from showing any more signs of pain or weakness. It made sense, of course. “Just my luck,” you muttered under your breath.

He had settled back into his chair and crossed his arms. “We will be able to start healing you again very soon, Y/n,” he supplied slowly. “We’ve already started to remove the seals that sustained you and increase your capacity to receive chakra again.”

That had been a relief - seeing the ink wiped off of your skin as a visual reminder things were, in fact, getting better. The biggest of them being the chakra seal on your chest. Not that you had been afraid of it - but as a person that naturally was very in tune with your own chakra as everyone in your clan was, it had felt… looming. The muting component of the leash was bad enough, but by now, you had gotten used to it. The fact you were in a safe environment helped a much greater deal, though. Still - “How… how’s work on the cure coming along, Tobi?”, you inquired suddenly, sheepishly, almost.

He leaned forward on the chair and exhaled a heavy breath. “Slow, but… steady.” He gazed up at your eyes with a solemn expression, neither sugarcoating the facts nor being overly harsh about it. “It’s possibly going to be as complex as the leash. But I’ll get there.” You wouldn’t question his determination. “We have time.” That probably was about the only advantage to all of this right now.

A smile formed on your lips. “Thank you.”

You beckoned him closer with a wave of your hand which he followed hesitantly by settling down on the side of your bed and a questioning glance. Your hand snuck around the back of his neck to pull him closer to you, your fingers lacing into his short hair as his forehead rested against yours. You felt the tension in his shoulders as your free hand trailed up them to cup his face, but his eyes closed slowly and he exhaled a gruff breath. His chakra coated your network warmly already as you tried to return the notion as best you could, which wasn’t much. He simply sighed in return and allowed you to caress him for a silent moment.

Offering a small bit of comfort when really, it was him who poured all his energy into aiding you.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips with such tenderness you felt his chakra flutter.

He swallowed before answering. “I love you too,” he coarsely answered, rough from emotion as one of his hands reached around your chest again to pull you even closer.

You couldn’t remember the last time the two of you had shared an intimate moment like this - and you knew well how he felt about them in a semi public place like this one.

The fact he relatively willingly permitted it was quite saying something.

The fact he actively pulled you even closer did so even more.

Slowly your lips ghosted over his in the utmost tender motion, gasping slightly when he met them with equal softness of his own.

Just a few more moments you allowed yourself this, you wanted to keep him as close as possible right now - before pulling back ever so slightly. When he opened his eyes again, his scarlet gaze was on fire. You didn’t need words to know what he felt. Once more your thumb gently stroked his cheekbone before you leaned back against the headboard again and he withdrew, ending the chakra connection with a final warm caress over your network.

Another day later, you had shedded the last of the seals that had been sustaining you. Hashirama examined you after and was quite pleased, even. Finally, you were on your own again, in a sense. It was a freeing sensation albeit one that came with a tinge of fear. You still weren’t cured yet and had precious little time in which you didn’t sleep off Tobirama’s version of the leash. After you inquired exactly what kind of tranquilizing agent he had used, your considerations as to why your sleep was so dead and dreamless were confirmed: it didn’t just endorse rest, it muted all kinds of emotions, good and bad. It was numbing.

You still weren’t sure how to feel about that - on the one hand, it felt too easy to escape from memories you did not want to deal with that definitely had been haunting you before the withdrawal cracked you. On the other hand, you just weren’t ready to deal with more, now. What you did know for certain was that Tobirama had put consideration in picking the tranquilizer as the base for the leash.

Like right now, when you were fighting against the haze in your mind and the heavy fog that tried to push you back into sleep. You had slept enough. You simply wanted to be awake for now. With a low groan you lifted yourself up to sit in the bed, ignoring the aches flaring in your arms, back and abdomen. Momentarily, your vision blackened, but you stabilised yourself swiftly with your arms on each side.

You must’ve pulled it off earlier, since Tobirama was not here yet - either that, or something happened. Your thoughts were too muddled to consider it more. Dazedly, you started at the window that let the morning sun in while trying to form another thought.

_______

Tobirama’s days had settled into a routine that pretty much was dictated by your waking hours. Without death breathing down your neck and the constant feeling of a looming heart attack, there was little to put the man off, really. As expected, your recovery would be slow and arduous, but you’d make it. He’d be there for you throughout every bit of it as he promised, and he was very intent on keeping this promise. With the modification to the leash, you were resting a lot better too, which in turn improved Tobirama’s sleep. After he had administered the first dosage of the leash with the tranquilising base solution and you had drifted off, he himself had slept for a good fourteen hours.

It had been one of the hardest battles of his life.

Not that he allowed himself any complacency, though. In fact the word barely existed in his vocabulary, but especially so right now - you still needed the cure for this leash.

Unfortunately, developing one proved to be a lot slower than copying the leash. And this was not because your life did not hang in the balance anymore - it was because Tobirama had no testing modality outside of the six prisoners whose lives, alas, still needed to be preserved carefully. And with your life saved, the necessary precautions for experimentation had risen an annoying lot. Except for Kimi, who had been tethered to Tobirama’s very own leash, he had put them all under Zenji’s leash and instructed the interrogation squad’s members on administration intervals and the likes of the drug. All he had to do was produce the thing in a large quantity, which by now had become a well-practiced process.

Zenji in particular had a slew of colorful insults ready for Tobirama, including himself, his brother, his family, his whole clan, Konoha - and yet it was with a sly smirk Tobirama’s iron grip on his jaw silenced him, wrestled his mouth open and poured the leash in.

“Now you can experience your own masterful work firsthand. It’s poetic, really,” he commented cynically, watching Zenji’s pupils dilate already.

“There’s no… cure… for the leash,” the man slurred hatefully, grunting in pain.

Tobirama’s smirk grew and he raised both eyebrows. “You made predictions about the possibility and impossibility of things before, and yet here we are Zenji,” he leaned in closer. “With your help, no less.”

The prisoner’s unfocused gaze looked for Tobirama’s arrogant face, but the psychotropic agents were overcoming him more and more.

“Now you’ll be of equal use again.”

He didn’t stick around for the torture anymore; there was no need. What he needed were these six as outlets for his experiments on a cure. Since the muting component faded, it came down to breaking the seal of the disrupting component somehow. However there was no trace of the seal as such once the drug was ingested - only in the way the disruption was branding itself into the victim’s body. Of course Tobirama well understood how the seal as such worked, but that meant he also understood countering it was a difficult task exactly because of that. Quickly it became obvious he needed more than just to unravel the disruption’s brand; whatever achieved this needed to be woven into the cure much like the leash was created. It would need to be a key that would unlock the chains of the leash.

He was lucky to have such skill in the weaving process as such, by now.

His first experiments were rather edgy. The substances used were primitive in comparison to the leash and aggravated the prisoner’s health to such a degree in one case, Tobirama was forced to provide extended medical support. Ikuro was squinting a lot at the proceedings, although everyone understood there was no alternative.

What time he didn’t spend experimenting or in the laboratory was spent within your room - when you were awake, or at least trying to be awake. Exhaustion and the tranquilizer both sapped consciousness from you a fair deal, but as your strength returned to you slowly, so did your capacity to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a given time. It was the hugest relief - to see you becoming yourself again, truly. Your smile, your laugh, the quips you made - the smart glint in your eyes.

The way you started to refuse to rest.

Of course you had quickly guessed it was no coincidence he has used this particular tranquilizer as base for the leash. But the reason was not to keep you literally too knocked out to move about.

The scars you bore were not just physical, inward and outward. There was a lot of mental damage that Tobirama had gathered enough clues towards already before you had hatched your withdrawal plan. This substance - this substance might be an easy crutch for now, but he refused to let you carry more weight than you had to right now. It was a selfish decision he made for you, he knew that.

Since you never protested, he figured you were in silent agreement, for now.

After the last of the seals were removed from you, it was time for the next step in your recovery, which he had discussed with his brother at length already, before you’d wake regularly. Once you were stable - and had not received any chakra for quite some time - they could finally start healing you properly again.

“It’ll be complicated,” Hashirama warned. “The withdrawal has damaged the functionality of her organs. The injuries she received during her imprisonment are not the ones I’m not worried about.”

Tobirama wasn’t, either. Those were simple in comparison. The withdrawal had wrecked you from the inside out - alongside your body’s reaction to it. He frowned. “You assume we may not heal everything?”

Hashirama clicked his tongue. “I’ve learned not to make any assumptions when it comes to this drug, to be quite honest,” he muttered in a rare streak of bleak irony.

Tobirama could only huff in response.

They’d have to give it their best. If there was anyone who could do it, it was his brother, after all.

Today was the day - after his brother’s evaluation of your state yesterday, they’d start to mend the real damage today. Both were on the way to your room. It was still early in the morning and Tobirama couldn’t deny having sound sleep at night was quite a blessing after the nightmare he and you had suffered. Even so, you should be asleep still at this time.

He opened the door to your room silently - only to find you sitting in bed already, staring out of the window. He spoke before his mind could even process the angered worry that filled him. “Y/n,” his tone firmly questioning - for now.

_______

Your head snapped around to your new company, startled. The look on Tobirama’s face was one you knew well - he’d start scolding you any moment now with how deeply he was frowning already. Hashirama on the other hand, bright as ever - broadly smiling. How these two were brothers, you sometimes really had to wonder about.

“Tobirama, Hashirama,” you nodded, smirking. The urge to just sleep again had subsided somewhat, though your mind still was foggy. Sitting up was an exercise on its own, still, not to mention the pain you felt.

“Why are you awake already?”, Tobirama shot back instantly, rounding the bed swiftly. You’d like to think there was worry attached to the sternness of his tone. “Did something happen?”

You sighed softly and smiled. “No, don’t worry. I just didn’t want to sleep any more, that’s all. I’m much the same I was before.” You really refused to say you were fine. Someone who couldn’t sit up for longer periods of time without pain was not fine.

Tobirama stayed silent, but his scarlet gaze was inspecting you closely. You rolled your eyes and lowered yourself back onto the bed before he’d tell you to, unable to prevent a quiet groan from escaping you.

“Careful,” he stepped closer instantly as worry flashed in his eyes, but you waved him off quickly.

Hashirama cleared his throat then and stepped closer to the other side of the bed, practically beaming now. You raised an eyebrow. “We’ll start mending your injuries again today, Y/n,” he announced with no small amount of pleasure.

Your eyes widened. That would be a huge relief - literally and proverbially. However, you were hesitant to feel hopeful just yet. Frankly most of your mental power went towards processing the announcement still. “How much of them?”, you inquired, when you found you couldn’t come up with a smarter way to articulate your budding worry over the resilient hope that formed.

Tobirama answered solemnly. “You’ve not received chakra in quite a bit now, so there is some capacity to work with. But the damage you suffered was very extensive and will require multiple sessions, most likely.” His voice had become softer, though you focused on the information mostly.

“I will start with the most vital damages,” Hashirama continued, “Seeing how the wounds you received from the stone have begun healing on their own by now, albeit slow. I know they’re most painful, but we must ensure you first recover truly from inside out. Bones, muscles and skin come second.”

You had to give a snort at that, earning you a puzzled look from Hashirama and a raised eyebrow from his brother. “Apologies,” you amended quickly, “I understand. It’d just be nice to move without pain again. Or at all, and not just lie still.”

Tobirama cut in sternly, quickly. “You mustn’t, yet. Healing anything is only going to help if you don’t squander it by pushing yourself too much too fast, Y/n. You know that.” The warning in his tone was clear. And you knew he was right - one of the most basic principles of all medical jutsu - like surgical sutures, they needed time to kick in fully.

Hashirama was more accommodating. “I can ease it somewhat, of course.”

Tobirama’s glance shot towards his brother. “It’s vital to focus on the most important injuries.”

He rolled his eyes. “Let’s get started.”

You couldn't help the chuckle that bubbled up while you rolled up your gown. Hashirama’s warm hands gently placed themselves on your abdomen, and already you felt his chakra spreading in your network, his presence becoming more prominent. Your eyes locked with Tobirama’s who had crossed his arms again, giving you a tender smile that you returned; a different kind of warmth blossoming in your chest. Then, you let your head rest on the pillow and stared at the ceiling before closing your eyes as his brother’s work was unfolding.

Just like when Tobirama had healed you before, the procedure became something of an internal massage of all the parts of you that had been tortured, abused, beaten. Suffered under the withdrawal of the leash, withered and strained. Without your own chakra at your disposal, it was extremely difficult to trail alongside them, but frankly the thoroughly comfortable feeling that settled in was quick to make your eyelids leaden again.

Very carefully, he first tended to your heart and lungs first - strengthening attacked tissue, mending microscopic damages and if needed, precisely cutting away whatever scars your body already had formed to let real organ matter regrow there. Whether it was your imagination or not you couldn't say, but you thought your breaths became deeper and your heartbeat slowed down into a more powerful rhythm. His attention shifted to other organs then: liver, kidney, the gut - and much in the same manner, they tended diligently to the damages.

A stray tear of relief ran down your cheek as shivers ran up and down your spine.

Finally came the injuries inflicted by the torture - process here was more difficult. The gentle, healing massage took on a more forceful note, as though he had to work out kinks in stiff muscle that had not been used much. Almost pinching here and there when even your tardish chakra felt the tear of inferior scar tissue that had formed due to a lack of attention and use. You felt the old wounds warm up ever so slightly, promoting blood flow as well as making the matter more receptive to his care, although the time he spent healing here was notably shorter compared to what they had done before.

It was uncomfortable - not the smooth procedure from before but the quite literal rebuild of what you knew was broken and had been healed broken. Every now and then you’d huff or grunt when the unpleasant sensation bordered pain, but you kept yourself in check - Tobirama was still watching, and you didn’t want him to worry again.

Eventually, Hashirama withdrew as quietly as he’d begun.

You had difficulty opening your eyes again. All of you felt warm now, refreshed - revitalised. The sleep that wanted to overcome you now wasn't the heavy exhaustion you permanently felt, it was pure comfort. It was the same feeling you had after visiting a hot spring after a day of training. The feeling of the sun on your skin on a rare lazy day, a peaceful day.

Peaceful. That was how you felt.

Hashirama was beaming at you, but Tobirama was wearing a slight frown again. “Are you alright?” - the discomfort hadn’t escaped his notice, of course.

You cleared your throat, swallowing down a hoarse lump. “Yeah,” nodding slowly. “Better than before,” you dared a brave smile.

His frown deepened, but he didn’t comment further. In the end, this was necessary - like many other things had been - and so, he’d accept it. He - you - had no other choice.

Hashirama cleared his throat. "I managed to heal quite a bit, more than I expected, in fact. Of course there still is work to be done, but the damages the withdrawal created I believe I will be able to manage with time and patience.” He gave you an appreciative nod. “You're a tough woman." He chuckled brightly.

Tobirama’s mien grew more tender as his frown smoothed out, a light smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

It was difficult not to get intoxicated by his optimism, especially when you felt the way you did now. "Thank you."

"The next session will have to wait since I used an extensive amount of chakra now. And as for the injuries you suffered…" Hashirama knit his brows. "... those will require more work. Your body started to mend those already. Unfortunately in inferior ways, due to your poor condition."

You gave an awkward shrug, as much as that was possible in bed. "I felt that, yeah."

Tobirama's frown returned somewhat again, but he didn't comment.

Before either of them spoke again, you did - with an idea that had hit you just this moment. Something that jolted through your system more uncomfortably than the hope had done before, despite being much the same feeling. "So, since I need to rest so much now…", you gave Tobirama a meaningful gaze he held entirely neutrally, "... couldn't I actually -" You paused. Suddenly, you felt silly, but with the expectant glances on you, you swallowed it down and continued. "Could I perhaps rest at home? I'm stable now, and this room is starting to drive me insane."

Tobirama sucked in a sharp breath through his nostrils, hands gripping the fabric of his black shirt more tightly as he spoke up promptly. "Y/n, as much as I'd like to grant you this, we must consider-"

"Absolutely. I'll stop by to help to heal you again." Hashirama cut in, grinning broadly.

Tobirama's mien turned positively furious at being blindsided by his sibling. "Anjia!"

Hashirama was unfazed. "Patients recover better in homely environments. Y/n is stable, like she said - you saw it yourself, Tobirama. Also, you can ensure even better that she rests well."

"That-", he clenched his teeth at having this argument used against him, but just a moment later, the heated fury had subsided to a smoldering kind of anger that gave his sternness a cutting edge. "She still is in poor condition and should be hospitalised. If anything changes, here is where the aid needed will be."

Hashirama held both palms up and tilted his head. You, on the other hand, were rolling your eyes and waiting for your moment to chime into this conversation. About your own damn self. "I don't see what should happen. So long as the leash is administered on time - which you have been doing - and she rests properly, she's going to get better now."

Tobirama was losing ground and worse yet, he realised this. To his own brother no less. He bared his teeth slightly. "I can't be there every moment in case she needs help. And I won't allow just anyone into our house."

Now was your chance. "Actually, you can." Tobirama's head snapped to you and the furious gaze bored through you. You didn't flinch though. "You can just leave a shadow clone with me. If I need help, you can teleport over. But as you know," now you raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "I'm mostly sleeping and resting."

Tobirama pinched the bridge of his nose as he often would when frustrated. "Y/n…", he began slowly, but you didn't let him start.

"You're with me so much anyway. I'd feel a lot better at home. And you can work there, too. It's easier for everyone."

His expression grew more mellow and his hand dropped as his irritated mien fell. Your pleading glance did the rest. "Fine. But if anything - anything at all - happens, I'll get you back here right away. No discussion." Then he frowned again and any trace of mellowness was wiped off of his face. "The same goes for you not sticking to your bed rest."

You grinned brightly already. "Naturally." You'd find your way around once you could move more again, of course.

Hashirama clapped his hands then cheerfully. "Right then!", he beamed at his brother who just gave a scowl in return. "I'll see you soon. Mito and I will visit, anyway. Until then," he waved, and already was on his way out before you could raise your hand to wave back.

Tobirama sighed. "Regular visits are just another downside," he stated perfectly blearily.

You chuckled. "Cheer up. We'll have a lot more privacy. And…" you paused for a moment, fumbling with the blanket draped over you. "Finally, no more lonely nights."

He turned around to you, eyebrows knitted in a sorrowful fashion that told of the shared statement more than words could. Still, "That… is correct." He stepped closer to the bedside, an utterly warm smile forming now. "It's been a forlorn and cold place without you, Y/n. I’m... beyond relieved that will change now."

With all of the comfortable peacefulness you felt from the healing procedure still, that statement alone made your eyes tear up already in a most soft way. "So am I, Tobirama."

He bent down then and reached under your haggard body with his arms; one gripping your chest tightly, the other wrapping under yours knees. Bridal-style he hefted you up easily - unsurprisingly. Even before your capture he could handle you well. Now your weight was a joke. Closely cradled against his chest, you let your head rest against him with a content sigh. His warm breath hit your face as he bent over briefly to kiss your forehead gently, making you shift your gaze to meet his. The scarlet irises were swimming with a kind of love that alone made your renewed heart pump vigorously.

Already the world around you lurched and a moment later, you were in your bedroom. Your tired gaze found it to be exactly the same it had been before your departure on that fateful mission - one that most likely changed your life forever, you realised. Sparsely furnitured, but practical. A large bed in the middle of the room, adjourning the wall - and broad windows on two walls, overlooking your small garden.

“Welcome home,” Tobirama whispered down to you, a slight tremor to his baritone voice.

“I’m glad,” was all you managed before yet another pure tear rolled down your cheek.

Slowly, he walked to your side of the bed to settle you down as gently as possible. The softness of your own sheets, your own bed elicited a small groan from you and you couldn’t help but bask in the moment with a content mien. “At times, I thought I’d never be here again.”

Tobirama swallowed hard, and when you gazed up at him you saw his jaw working. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Y/n.” The sheer determination these words bore had the warm feeling blossoming in your chest again, but you could only nod in reply. And words might be a sob right now.

“I’ll get you different clothes.”

“No, wait,” you shook your head. He paused mid-walk, having already made for the wardrobe, to give you a questioning glance.

“Come here.” You patted his side of the bed, and nodded.

He quirked an eyebrow up. “Y/n, it’s morning.” Of course, only Tobirama Senju would object to getting into bed again just because of the time of day.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m going to crash any minute now anyway, so you might as well come here now. I can change later.”

With a wondering glance still he slipped to his side of the bed, scooting closer to you as you wrestled yourself to lie on the side. Once he was close enough he assisted in pulling you over, but you weren’t done yet - your arms snuck around his chest and wordlessly, he drew you close to him in a tight embrace. You nestled your face into his chest again as he locked his arms around his, letting his head rest on yours and your legs intertwined. In this position, you could hear his slow, even heartbeat. The steady rhythm was enough to elicit a whole different kind of serenity from you that doubled the warm, comfortable tiredness you felt, but you weren’t quite done yet. Just a moment longer.

Tobirama’s hands ran soothing motions over your back. Yours did the same, feeling the tension ease out of his muscles with each passing second as your caresses drew a content rumble from him.

“Not such a bad idea, was it?”, you giggled quietly.

Tobirama huffed. “How will I get out once you’re asleep without waking you, Y/n?”, he accused playfully, but you could hear the smile from his tone alone.

“You’ll find a way. After all, it’s most important I rest .” You jabbed playfully at his side - just about the only spot Tobirama might be the slightest bit ticklish.

He shrugged it off with a chuckle. “You are absolutely correct. I will.” He tightened the embrace somewhat more, a hand reaching up to the base of your neck to massage your scalp. “So, sleep now. I’ll be here when you wake.”

With your eyes closed now, it was a matter of seconds until sleep overtook you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

A wholesome kind of rest wrapped around you, drowning all sensations out in the comfort of Tobirama’s arms.

You were home. _________ AAAAAAND! That’s a wrap on the Leash. Let me know what you thought of it - and let me just say THANK YOU VERY VERY MUCH for reading it all! I definitely, really, REALLY loved seeing the returning likes/reblogs for all these parts - thanks a lot! That being said - IT WOULD SEEM... Tobirama hasn’t found the cure yet, has he?! Which means... yes! I’ll write a sequel - it won’t be as big as the Leash at all. Possibly an epilogue or a little miniseries dealing with the consequences of all this - but it’ll get a wrap, eventually!

But! Happy ending <33

#tobirama #tobirama senju #tobirama x reader #tobirama senju x reader #sekhmet writes

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thelibrarbian · 3 years

Photo

Alright. Alright, he could do this. He was the Great Papyrus, he knew how to fix bones, he knew how to heal, and Fell wasn't– His HP was stable now. There was no need to panic. It was fine.

Or: Underfell Papyrus is injured on patrol and four skeletons deal with the aftermath.

---

Rating: T

Tags: Platonic Edgepuff, Multiverse Shenanigans, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Description of Injuries, Healing Magic, Papyrus Tries His Best, Everyone Needs A Hug, Eventual Fluff

Chapter word count: 1944

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I wrote a thing!

I started working on this for Camp NaNo in April. It was supposed to be a one-shot... it did not want to stay a one-shot :’D

Read on Ao3

or below the cut:

Papyrus rarely slept.

For all the unusualness that this night was about to bring, in this regard it was perfectly normal. It was 1:30 in the morning and Papyrus was wide awake, sitting up against the headboard of his race car-shaped bed and scribbling increasingly intricate puzzle designs into a notebook when he was interrupted by an urgent knocking from the front door.

He silently sprinted down the stairs on sock-clad feet - he didn't want to wake his brother, after all - wondering who could be visiting them this early in the day. Most monsters he knew did not share his sleep schedule (or non-sleep schedule, as the case may be) - the most likely explanation was that Undyne had burned down her house again with a midnight snack.

He skidded to a halt at the door, reaching for the handle. The knocking hadn't stopped; if anything, in the few moments it had taken Papyrus to come downstairs and open the door, it had only grown in intensity.

The monster on the other side was not Undyne.

And Papyrus realized that something was very, very wrong.

He only caught one glimpse of the sharp-toothed, fur-hooded version of his brother before he was pushed aside without so much as a 'hello' as Red staggered past him. It was rare for their parallel universe doubles to visit unannounced, but that surprise quickly faded when Papyrus' eyes fell on the second, larger monster that Red was dragging more than carrying inside.

To say that Fell looked bad would have been an understatement. He was hanging limply in Red's hold, his armor dented and torn open in places, and even though his clothes covered most of where Papyrus suspected the worst injuries to be, what he could see of the damage was bad enough. He thought he could make out several spots of something dark in the snow, leading from the basement to the front door, and he firmly decided to think about it later. Or not at all.

Thick beads of sweat were clinging to Red's forehead as he panted, visibly struggling to hold onto his brother. With a rather undignified noise of alarm, Papyrus sprung into action, helping Red to bring Fell into the living room and lower the tall monster to the ground. Cleaning, too, was something to worry about later.

He saw Red open his mouth, looking as if the next sentence was taking him a lot of effort to get out, then took one glance at Fell's plummeting HP and didn't wait to hear whatever Red was going to say. A second later he was crouching next to his unconscious alternate, his hands on his breastplate - stars, that piece of armor was not supposed to bend this way! - and pushing healing magic into him.

Papyrus was proud to proclaim that he had trained and mastered every aspect of magic at his disposal. He was a formidable fighter and a more than competent healer, but even so, whatever had happened to Fell was almost past Papyrus' abilities. Trying to stop his HP from falling felt as if he was attempting to catch running water with his hands. Which! Was not quite as impossible as it initially seemed, but it took all his concentration to bring the damage down to a slow trickle. He thanked the stars for having blessed him with such a large pool of magic reserves - he did not want to imagine running out in the middle of this.

Just when he thought he was starting to get things under control and could think about asking what in Asgore's name had happened to them, there was a soft huff next to him, then an equally soft thump as, in the corner of his eye, Red slumped to the ground.

"Oh no, not you too!" Papyrus reached out to catch him, but he wasn't quite fast enough - at least the carpet Red had landed on was soft - and as soon as his concentration on the healing slipped, Fell's HP started plummeting again.

Papyrus was not panicking! Solely for the reason that he absolutely could not afford to panic right now! He sent one desperate pulse of green magic in Red's direction before placing both hands on Fell again.

"SANS!!" There was a very small part of him that felt bad for waking his brother at one-something in the morning, but the majority of Papyrus was painfully aware that he did not have nearly enough hands to handle this situation alone. It took a few long seconds (during which Papyrus was absolutely not panicking as he tried to stabilize Fell's HP and prayed that Red wasn't about to dust in the meantime) before he heard shuffling steps upstairs.

"bro, what's-" There was a pregnant pause as Sans, thank the stars, seemed to figure out for himself what was going on. A second later, the familiar sound of a shortcut right next to Papyrus announced that his brother had foregone the stairs entirely on his way down.

Papyrus had no time to watch what exactly Sans was doing, but from the corner of his eye, he noticed him crouching down next to Red for a minute before he got up and disappeared somewhere behind Papyrus. A few moments later, the front door fell shut and the key clicked in the lock. Sans didn't say anything, for which Papyrus was grateful - he couldn't get distracted at the moment. He also didn't seem particularly panicked about Red's state, which Papyrus could only take to mean that his brother's alternate was not about to dust right there and then.

Sans wandered off again to somewhere, and Papyrus returned his full attention to Fell. It took a few more minutes before his HP wasn't dropping any further, and Papyrus finally dared to let his magic fade out.

"don't suppose you know what happened to them?" came Sans' voice from somewhere in front of Papyrus.

"No." He checked Fell again before he dared to look up, first at his brother, then at the unconscious Red next to him. The latter had been arranged into a more comfortable position, a cushion from the couch under his head. "Is Red alright? No, forget that question, what am I saying, obviously he would not be taking an impromptu nap on our living room floor if he was-"

"he should be fine," Sans reassured him before Papyrus could work himself further into his not-panic. "he isn't hurt, just exhausted. one shortcut too many, if i had to guess." He rubbed the back of his head. "'m gonna take him upstairs so he can sleep on a mattress, but… thought you could use a hand here first." He nodded towards the unconscious Fell.

Papyrus relaxed marginally. "Thank you, brother." It was only then that he noticed the first-aid kit on the ground in front of him that Sans must have brought with unusual, but very welcome helpfulness. "And yes, actually - an additional appendage or two would certainly make things easier." He carefully inspected Fell's armor, looking for a way to take it off with the least amount of movement possible.

His caution turned out to be justified. As he and Sans started removing the armor, Papyrus got the disturbing impression that the breastplate was most of what was currently holding Fell's ribcage together. It almost seemed like a miracle when they eventually managed to get the dented pieces of metal off him without causing any further damage.

Sans was looking vaguely nauseous.

The undershirt came off much more easily than the armor, mostly because Papyrus declared it unsalvageable after one look and had no qualms about simply cutting it apart. After his earlier struggle just to get him stabilized, Papyrus knew that what he was about to see would be… not good. He braced himself before he pulled the fabric aside, barely hearing Sans' muttered curse next to him.

He… had not been aware of just how many scars his counterpart had. Not that Fell usually made any attempts to hide them, but it was only now that Papyrus realized that almost every bone he could see was marked in some way. But those injuries were old, and he didn't let himself linger on them when there were much more pressing matters.

The right side of Fell's torso was a mess. There was barely a rib that wasn't broken, cracked, or bruised. Where the largest dent in the armor had been, a section of his ribcage was caved in entirely, the bone fragments just barely held together by magic. At least the healing magic had served to stop the bleeding, though, so Papyrus moved on, wanting to get a full picture first.

Fell's arms were smeared with something that could be either blood or marrow, but the cracks and cuts he found there were relatively minor by comparison. (He decided that it was not the right moment to speculate how much of the blood had belonged to someone else.) The same was true for the rest of the injuries - they were numerous but small, as if Fell had been caught in the middle of a tight bullet pattern, but aside from the ribs nothing looked immediately concerning - until Papyrus reached his legs and found one tibia snapped cleanly in half.

Sans had gone completely silent. When Papyrus glanced over, his sockets had gone dark and he looked like he was about to throw up.

"Sans?"

No response.

Papyrus swallowed dryly. "Brother?" he said, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

Sans jumped slightly, blinking rapidly before his eye lights reappeared - tiny specks of light in his sockets that immediately darted over to Papyrus. "y-yeah? sorry, think i spaced out for a moment." His gaze flicked briefly to the unconscious skeletons on the floor again, then back to Papyrus. "what now?"

"First of all -" Papyrus gently squeezed Sans' shoulder, meeting his eye. "It's going to be okay, brother. This is nothing we can't handle." He adamantly refused to believe anything else. "Okay?"

"'kay."

"Secondly… If you could bring some water and clean towels, that would be much appreciated."

Sans gave a nod and disappeared, returning shortly after with the requested items and a mask of calmness plastered onto his face. If Papyrus hadn't seen him just a minute ago, it might have been convincing.

"Thank you." Papyrus looked his brother over. "I believe Red has been napping on the floor for long enough," he said.

Sans paused for a second before a look of understanding passed over his face. "right." He didn't take the out that Papyrus was trying to give him. Instead of taking Red upstairs and staying there with him, he only lifted him onto the couch and loosely draped a blanket over him before returning to Papyrus' side.

"I am quite certain that I can handle this myself, if you would rather be elsewhere," Papyrus felt the need to clarify.

"'course you can, bro." Sans crouched down next to him. "but an extra hand would help, right? 'm fine, really. just got a bit rattled there for a sec."

Papyrus rolled his eyes, more out of habit than anything else, and Sans' permanent smile became a bit more genuine.

"just tell me what to do." He wiggled his fingers. "extra hands at your service."

Alright. Alright, he could do this. He was the Great Papyrus, he knew how to fix bones, he knew how to heal, and Fell wasn't– His HP was stable now. There was no need to panic. It was fine. And Sans was helping, so it was doubly fine.

He took a deep breath, grabbed the first-aid kit, and got to work.

#undertale #undertale fanfiction #papyrus #sans #underfell papyrus #underfell sans #hurt/comfort #platonic edgepuff #my writing #out of action fic

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