#anyway it probably wouldn’t have been that bad if it had sustenance and happened earlier in the season but baby it’s crunch time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

babyloposts · 3 years

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MY HERO DAD-CANNONS

Summary: How my favorite boys would react to their child having a nightmare. Some single dad head cannons because my baby fever is back

Includes: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku, Kaminari Denki, Takami Keigo

Warnings: none, fluff, aged up characters, references to GN parent titles

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Bakugou:

He was up and down the hall as quickly as the first wail left his daughter’s mouth. He was desperately hoping that the screams were not from a villain trying to kidnap her.

He was relieved for only a second as he saw her safely tucked into bed as he left her earlier that night, but the worry came back as he saw her broken out in a cold sweat.

Careful not to startle her awake Katsuki rubbed her forehead gingerly removing the sweat and bangs from its place matted on the top of her head.

“Kid. Wake up.” His tone soft. The one he reserved only for her.

“Daddy?” Her brows furrowed and her eyelashes fluttered open to see a stoic yet comforting face.

“You okay? I think you were having a nightmare. Scared the hell out of me.” He chuckled, still soothing her as her breathing slowed.

“M-me too. I was so scared Dad. The monsters were trying to get me.”

“What monsters?” Katsuki feared the worst. What if she had seen a villain and they knew she was his kid. That could mean she was being watched and in danger. He couldn’t let anything happen to her.

“From the movie dad. The one I watched when hanging out with the Midoriya’s.” Bakugou’s face scrunched and his daughter winced in fear of being in trouble for watching a PG-13 movie.

“What’d I tell you about watching scary movies with Deku’s kid. Now look at you all scared with nightmares.” Bakugou scolded, but his expression softened. He was just glad she was safe.

“I’m sorry Dad. I won’t watch scary movies anymore. I don’t want any monsters to get me.”

“It’s okay. I promise I won’t let any monsters get you. They have to go through me first, alright squirt.” She nodded and gave Bakugou a small smile, knowing she was safe and in the most capable hands of the #2 hero.

Bakugou smoothed her hair back and placed a kiss to her forehead. “Love you squirt. Sweet Dreams.”

“I love you too Dad.”

———————————————————————

Midoriya:

Izuku is no stranger to weird dreams, but he had never expected his One for All induced visions to transfer to his daughter as well.

He wouldn’t even know if she hadn’t been weeping by his bedside at one in the morning.

“D-daddy.” A small voice warbled out next to Midoriya. His eyes shot open not expecting to see a teary eyed five year old only a few inches away from his face.

“What’s wrong Bubby?” Izuku quickly sat up in bed and moved to the edge of the bed, scooping the crying child into his arms.

“I had a bad dream.” She whimpered as he wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Aww I’m sorry.” He hugged her tightly to his chest rocking slightly to soothe her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She nodded slightly before starting. “I was so scared Daddy. You were there and somebody—a bad man—stole your quirk away from you. He was too strong. And nobody would help you. Not even All Might. And I was too little to help you, Daddy and I’m so sorry.” And just like that the tears were flowing from her tear ducts again.

Izuku shushed her and started back trying to soothe her again. “Don’t worry, I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere.” He brought his daughter back to her bedroom and tucked her into her Princess themed bed. “Are you comfy?” She asked and she nodded.

Izuku gave her a kiss to her temple before getting up to move to a bookshelf on the far side of the room. “Would you like to hear a story?” She nodded and Izuku climbed into the side of the bed and wrapped his arm around her.

Midoriya read the story book to her that were more kiddie versions of some of All Might’s best missions (even in fatherhood he was a total fanboy).

His daughter was knocked before he was even halfway through the book, the tales of heroism and safety lulling her into a peaceful sleep. Although she was peaceful and very cute Izuku had realized his grave mistake far too late.

His daughter was the lightest sleeper he knew. It would be almost impossible to remove himself from the bed without waking her up.

He tried several times to stand from the bed without causing her to stir, but ultimately failed and gave in to the reality that he’d be spending the night on the edge of a twin bed.

It wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but Izuku would give up anything for his little girl, even the comforts of his own bed, to make her feel safe.

———————————————————————

Kaminari:

It took a lot to get Denki up, which wasn’t always a good thing having such a young child to look after. He was finally awoken by the third kick to his ribs by a little foot in bed.

“Ouch, what the-?” Denki whipped the blanket down to reveal a small body in the fetal position hunched against his side.

“Wha- hey Little Man. What happened? Why aren’t you sleeping in your big kid bed?”

The small boy was unmoving, pretending to be asleep to prevent being bothered or moved from his comfortable position.

“I know you’re not sleep, Buddy. Tell me what’s wrong. Please?” Finally Denki’s son’s head poked up from his arm shields and showed off his pouty face.

“I don’t want to sleep in my big kid. It’s too dark and scary in there. I don’t want to have bad dreams.” The child’s eyes started to water.

Denki sighed. “Bud, I thought we agreed that when you turned four you’d stop sleeping in Papa’s bed and sleep by yourself.”

“I don’t want to anymore. I’m scared. It’s too dark and you are too far away.” He whined. Denki knew that he was the age where he needed to start being able to self-soothe and sleep by himself, but he couldn’t deny his son. He was a good kid, maybe with a bit of separation anxiety, but all around he was pretty easy.

Denki’s nanny would probably scold him for babying his son, but he didn’t care. It’s not like Denki liked sleeping alone anyway.

“Bud, you can’t sleep down in the covers like that. You’ll get way too hot.” A small smile spread over Denki’s lips as his son shuffled his way up onto Denki’s chest with his arms wrapped around his neck in a death grip.

Denki chuckled once the grip loosened and rubbed his son’s back as he slipped into sleep. “Can we try sleeping in your big kid bed tomorrow night?” Denki whispered.

“I’ll try Papa, but no promises.” Denki chuckled and closed his eyes in content.

“That’s okay Buddy. I love you.”

“Love you too, Papa.”

———————————————————————

Takami Keigo:

Keigo really hoped that an intruder wasn’t in the house right now. He knew it was irrational to think, but stranger things have happened, plus he was already worked up from the last patrol he went on last night where he fought a surprisingly difficult villain.

Stealthily Kei climbed out of bed and sent a feather flying into the kitchen where the noise was coming from to scope out the intruder.

When he heard a high pitched scream and low thud he was actually more relieved than worried.

He rushed from behind his bedroom door out to see his son sat on the ground in front of the open refrigerator.

“The hell are you doing up? It’s 2 AM!” Keigo whisper yelled to ensure he didn’t bother the neighbors.

“Sorry Dad. I was hungry.”

“What are you still hungry for? You basically ate a whole chicken by yourself for dinner. At this rate keeping up with your eating habits cost more than the rent.” Takami chided, but he couldn’t be too mad, his son was a growing boy and they needed their sustenance.

“I’m sorry Dad. I just woke up and wanted a snack that’s all.” That’s what he said, but the glossiness in his son’s eyes gave him away.

Keigo bent over to pick up the food that had fallen out of the fridge and grab a carton of ice cream out of the freezer along with two spoons. His son watched his father intently as he moved to the kitchen island to sit and patted the stool next to him.

“Come sit down and have your snack.” Keigo sighed. Reluctantly his son sat down beside him and grabbed a spoon scooping into the slightly freezer burnt cookies and cream.

“So tell me what’s really going on. You wouldn’t tear up just from me knocking you on your ass earlier.” His son’s eyes grew wide, surprised that his dad had noticed that small detail.

“There’s nothing wrong.”

“I know when you’re lying to me Kid. So just go ahead and tell me.” Kei said wrapping an arm around his son’s shoulders.

He took a deep breath before finally caving. “I... I had a dream about Baba. When they died.” Keigo’s usual cocky demeanor faded away and his eyes softened as he recalled the painful memory.

“Wow.” Keigo said as he cleared his throat. “That uh... hasn’t happened for a while. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault Dad. I just wished... I don’t know. I just miss them a lot.” He began to tear up again. Keigo sighed. It has been almost seven years since his significant other died tragically from cancer. Their son was just a kid then. What Five year old can really comprehend that and grieve a parent properly. Since then Kei’s been doing his best as a single Dad, but maybe he should have talked about them more.

“I know you miss them Kid. I do too. I miss them everyday, but you remind me of them. You’ve got the same face and spirit they had, so it’s like a little piece of ‘em is always with us. They’re in you.” Keigo’s grip tightened around his son’s shoulder and he left a comforting rub up and down his forearm.

“I know sayin all this isn’t going to bring them back, but just know they’re always in your heart and they loved you very much.”

“Thanks Dad.”

“No problem Kid. Just finish your ice cream and get to bed. I don’t want you late for school in the morning.”

His son nodded. Keigo stood from the island and ruffled the hair of his son before depositing his dirty spoon in the sink. Before he made it all the way to his bedroom a voice rang out behind him.

“I love you Dad.”

Keigo smiled softly. “Love you too Kid.”

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authorkun · 3 years

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[𝙎𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙡 𝙈𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙖𝙘] (002)

"𝘼𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙧𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨?"

Fushiguro unamusedly asked. The two first-years plus the suicidal second-year sat around the table set with food. M/n dramatically slapped a hand on his chest feigning hurt. "Oh my dear Megs, how you wound me. You know I wouldn't kill my favorite kouhai." A pang tugged at the bottom of the other.

"It can't be that bad!" Itadori shoveled a spoonful of the curry into his mouth. A sweet and savory taste filled his senses as little sparkles floated around him. "Thjihgss sgloh gfjloh! (This is so good)" The words were muffled do to the pinkeyes full mouth.

Across from him Fushiguro silently ate his own meal. To his slight surprise, it wasn't half bad; of course he wouldn't have let you know. "Does Soasunu or whatever his name is, eat food?" M/n dumbly asked waving his spoon around. "L/n, surely the king of curses doesn't need sustenance." The black haired male face palmed at the idiocy of the question.

Itadori continued to shovel large amounts of the curry into himself. His bowl being set down a minute later emptied of its content. "Arigato gozaimasu!" He quickly bowed. "Your cooking reminds me of a housewife's..." the words slipped out. Silence followed suit as realization hit him. "O-Oh w-wait t-that's not what I meant! I mean your cooking's really good-." Itadori started rambling out apologies. "Tch. That's probably where you belong as a housewif-." A spoon interrupted Sukuna's crude words.

"Excuse me, I'm about full so I'm gonna go hit the sack." M/n smiled, a chilling aura surrounding him. The seething male stormed out of the Cafeteria, as the two's stare bore into his back. "Why do you keep being so rude?" Sukuna 'tched' before his mouth disappeared. After the whole fiasco dinner continued on with attempts at small talk from the pinkette.

Timeskip

Night time rolled around fairly quickly, the sound of cicadas and the wind chiming around the school's building. The cold air nipped at the exposed (s/c) skin. After the male had stormed off, he decided to take a walk and had stayed at the small hill away from the buildings. The same book pulled out from before. "Aren't you supposed to be asleep?" His voice broke the silence. "I could ask you the same thing." The second voice identified as Itadori.

"Not many people are awake at the witching hour. Are you a witch then?" The (h/c) haired teen teased the younger. In his moment of confusion, M/n tripped him causing Yuuji to fall beside him. The quietness took over the two as M/n stayed engrossed with the small book.

"Hey, I'm sorry for Sukuna earlier. He's been acting like a real pain in the ass today." A growl sounded through Itadori's head. "It's fine, not everyday you get insulted by the cursed king himself." M/n dryly chuckled. 'Let me out brat.' 'No!' 'Do it.' 'Why should I? You've been an ass the whole day.' 'I won't hurt him, You can take over after I talk with the sorcerer.' The internal struggle didn't go unnoticed though.

The facial expressions Itadori was making gave the whole argument away. "He's asking to be let out I assume?" He quirked a brow in interest. "Yes? It's not like I'll let him though." "Let him. I have quite a few questions to ask. Before you say anything, I'll be fine. I'm stronger anyways." M/n sent a small half smile. On que, black markings started appearing on Itadori's features. "Hm, the moon always feels better in the flesh." The voice belonging to Sukuna. "What'd you want?" The second-year casually tossed the book aside. "Did you know the sun and moon used to be lovers?" The curse said ignoring the question.

"Legend says the moon constantly overtook the skies as darkness rained. As the sun continued hurting without the love from the people. Apparently the moon was so infatuated with his counter-part he banished himself from seeing his beloved.

The sun enjoys her reign in the day, while the moon concours the night. The only time they meet is during a solar eclipse. Could you imagine sacrificing yourself for someone you love?" The story had caught the younger off-guard. The words seemingly feeling familiar. "I would do anything if it meant for them to be safe." The statement struck something inside of Sukuna's chest making his mouth dry. "That's foolish! How do you know they won't waste it?"

"The exact reason why the moon had banished himself. He trusted that he had made the right choice. He knew he was hurting the very thing he loved so he did what he thought was right. In return, once ever few years the sun and moon eclipse." The words had a deeper meaning. A familiar feeling of grief sat at the curse's stomach. Memories he had attempted to bury started to resurface. Anger bubbled inside of him as he grabbed onto the collar of the male under him.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean. It's foolish! The ultimate sacrifice for another? Are you out of your damn mind?!" He had barked out shaking M/n with every word he had said. "I'll kill you!" His hands wrapped around the other's neck. "Do...it....Dare......you." The pressure starting to build onto his windpipe. Realizing what he was doing, Sukuna dropped the other backing away staring at his hands as flashes of blood flickered.

Stumbling away he fell over, as M/n scratched his neck coughing inhaling the needed oxygen. Tomorrow a bruise would certainly form. His eyes landed over to the crouched body. Sukuna hunched over covering his mouth as Saliva filled his hands. A panic attack. The vile taste brimming at his throat. 'Fuck!' He tried pushing the feeling away, ignoring the gross feeling. "Who was I to you?" M/n's voice cracked, it was hoarse, of what you could hear. His words breathless, his vocal chords ruined without a doubt. "No one." "Did I know you? Was I some one importa-." He couldn't finish his question when the black tattoos faded. A confused Itadori replaced the cursed king.

Worry written on his face seeing his friend gasping for air. "Did he do that to you?" Pointing to his neck where purple started to form in shapes of hand prints. "No...it's..fine." M/n's hoarse voice made him angry at the broken promise. "We're going to see the nurse. You need help." Itsdori grabbed onto the male's wrist starting to head back towards the school.

"I knew it was a bad idea." "No." The sudden statement startled the vessel. "What?! He basically crushed your vocal chords!" "I-I'll be o-ok." M/n flashed a weak smile. "What did you guys even talk about?" "..." the silent response and hung head had signified the answer.

"We're at least going back inside. It's cold out here." "T-Thanks." Yuuji gave a light-hearted smile masking his worry. "Don't thank me. It's the best I can do after what happened with Sukuna." Itadori walked M/n back to his room while filling him in on what had happened the rest of dinner. Stopping at the wooden door, M/n had twisted the knob, wandering into the black abyss of his room. Expertly finding his bed, and flopping into the mattress.

Right before he closed the door the strained words of his senpai caught him off-guard. "Stay." The pinkette's face began to grow warm. "Uh...sure?" The first-year hesitantly closed the door behind him kicking off his shoes near the the entrance. Walking over to what he thought the bed, a hand had yanked him to laying beside the other.

His face already blooming a cherry red, as M/n snuggled into his chest. A second later soft snores filled the dark room.

'It's not that bad right?' A yawn interrupted his train of thought, following the male beside him falling asleep.

{Previous} {Next}

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk megumi #jjk sukuna #jjk gojo #jjk inumaki #jjk zenin #seme male reader #top male reader #gojo satoru x top male reader #itadori yuji x top male reader #itadori yuuji x reader #jjk x reader #jjk itadori

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supersickies · 4 years

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Summary: “Mini-Boss, I’ve detected that your vitals are irregular and you seem to be suffering from a food induced illness. Would you like me to inform Mr. Stark?” FRIDAY’s voice came softly from above him. Of course it was food poisoning, and on the night that Peter picked the take-out too.”

Peter thought his dinner selection was pretty quality, but it comes back to prove him wrong just a few hours later, literally.”

A/N: Me? Posting on Ao3? Me Posting on this account? Unheard of, but stranger things have happened! Anyways the quarantine boredom is taking over so I’m gonna be writing random drabbles for fun so idk enjoy I guess! (you can read it here below the cut or on Ao3 doesn’t matter to me do what you want lol)

“Oh, kid. I’m really so so sorry.” Tony says for maybe the tenth time that night. The mechanic is sitting on the floor of Peter’s bathroom at the compound while the youngest Avenger expels his stomach contents, again. It was nearing 1 a.m. and the poor kid had been feeling a bit ill since 8. At first, he didn’t think it was anything to worry about, so Peter just opted to call it a night earlier than usual and hoped that sleep would calm the queasiness in his stomach.

Wrong. He was very wrong.

After about a half an hour of uneasy sleep, the boy was pulled from his slumber as his stomach flipped uncomfortably. Knowing what was to come, Peter shakily left his bed, seated himself on his bathroom floor, and waited for the inevitable. The inevitable happened less than a minute later. After his first bout of puking Peter still felt uneasy, so instead of making the trek back to his nice warm bed he laid himself down on a plush bath mat and let himself doze and wait for the next round of retching.

“Mini-Boss, I’ve detected that your vitals are irregular and you seem to be suffering from a food induced illness. Would you like me to inform Mr. Stark?” FRIDAY’s voice came softly from above him. Of course it was food poisoning, and on the night that Peter picked the take-out too.

“I-Is anyone else sick?” Peter asks the AI, his voice raspy. He thinks back to dinner with Tony, Pepper and Rhodey. He doesn’t remember any of them eating the same meal as him but still, he had to make sure everyone else was alright.

“Negative, Peter. The rest of the towers inhabitant’s vitals are regular and within safe levels. Once again, would you like me to inform Mr. Stark?”

Peter sniffs, thinking on it. “Is he asleep, Fri?”

“No, he and Mrs. Stark are in the living area watching a film.”

With a sigh, Peter okays FRIDAY contacting Mr. Stark for him. He feels bad that he’s interrupting Tony’s time with his wife, but he knows that he is in no shape to take care of himself. Not when he could barely life his head off the toilet seat to puke.

It’s not long before Peter hears the tell-tale sound of Tony nearly sprinting down the hall to Peter’s room. It’s a sound he’s fairly used to at this point.

“Petey? Bud, Fri says you’re not feeling too- oh my lord.” Tony stops, eyes wide when he finds Peter on the floor of the bathroom. Face ashen and eyes dull. Tony was ready to call for an ambulance when FRIDAY interjected.

“Sir, I believe Mr. Parker is experiencing symptoms of food poisoning, most likely from the gyro he ingested at dinner tonight.”

Tony coos sympathetically as he lowers himself to sit beside the boy on the bathroom floor. “Did you throw up, bubba?” The man’s hand automatically going to Peter’s hair, knowing it was an action that instantly calmed the boy. With a relieved sigh, the hair petting obviously already working, Peter nodded slightly. Tony nodded as well, taking note of the heat radiating off of the kid. “You think you’re gonna throw up again?”

“Dunno,” Peter mumbles. “‘m achey, ’n cold, tummy still feels gross.” On another given day, Peter would have been mortified to have said “tummy” in front of literally anyone, but now he just feels too awful to care.

“Okay, bug. You just rest, I’m gonna go get some stuff to help you out, alright?” Peter nods again and closes his eyes as Tony stands from his spot.

He quickly heads to the kitchen where he finds Pepper again. She’s obviously concerned, but more or less used to Peter being the cause of Tony hastily having to leave to run to the boy’s rescue. “Everything okay?” She inquires.

Tony opens with fridge with a sigh. “I mean, could be worse. It’s food poisoning, but the kid just seems downright miserable.” He grabs ginger ale and a water bottle before making his way to the pantry for saltine crackers.

“Oh no, poor thing.” Pepper says, biting her thumb nail as she thinks back to dinner.

“Don’t worry,” Tony assures her. “Fri said it was from his gyro, and we all had the salmon salad so…” He trails off, looking at the items he’s gathered but knowing he’s missing something.

“Heating pad is in our bathroom under the sink.” Pepper reminds him, knowing exactly what her husband is thinking. Tony in return smirks back at her, always amazed at just how much she knew. With a quick thank you and a kiss on the cheek, Tony grabs all of his supplies and brings them back to his kid. He drops the crackers, soda, water, and the heating pad off in the bathroom before going back into Peter’s bedroom and taking a blanket and pillow from his bed.

“Okay Peter Pan, let’s get you settled in. This is gonna be a long night.” Tony says, softly so to not aggravate the headache the kid probably has.

Peter groans in response, and Tony just shushes him lightly as he starts to maneuver the boy. Peter is almost completely pliant at this point, so Tony careful raises the spiderling’s head, much like you would an infants, and slips the pillow beneath it. He then plugs the heating pad into the wall and places it over Peter’s stomach, before lightly throwing the blanket over his curled up form. He debated tucking the blanket around the kid, but when the next round of puking comes along, Peter probably won’t have the energy to unravel himself from that. “How we doing now, bud?”

With his new setup on the bathroom floor, Peter feels much more comfortable, and it’s apparent in his eyes which are now relaxed rather than tensed. The boy hums. “S’okay, s’like a fort in the bathroom.” He slurs already feeling himself drift off again.

Tony smiles at his success. He wasn’t a bad caretaker, but was was never really his strong suit. He takes Peter’s contentedness with the makeshift pallet as the highest form of praise. “Think you wanna try some ginger ale to settle that tummy?”

If Peter heard Tony’s jab at him for saying tummy, he didn’t say anything. Most likely because just the mention of sustenance had Peter back over the toilet, gagging.

“Woah okay, never mind that then.” Tony quips as he kneels back beside Peter to keep the boy’s head up right. “That’s okay, bubba. Deep breaths. Fuck I- sorry kiddo, no more food talk from now on.” The older man cant help but cringe at the boy’s retches, a particularly hard one making the boy’s eyes water. After a little bit the gagging tapers off, and Peter spits the nasty taste from his mouth. Tony lowers the kid back down to his pillow and settles him back under the blanket before standing to grab a hand towel to wet in the sink. He dabs the sweat off of the boys brow and then cleans some of the mess on the side of Peter’s mouth and chin. “Oh, Petey I’m so sorry bud. You really feel miserable, huh?”

Peter just hums in response, finding his mentors hand and moving it to rest in his hair again. Tony cant help the small laugh that escapes at the motion. “Okay buddy, hand in the hair at all times. Noted.”

“Don’t leave Tony.” Peter murmurs half way back to dreamland.

“Wouldn’t even think of it Pete.”

#irondad #spiderson #spiderman #sick peter parker #peter parker whump #my fic #drabble #irondad fic

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aire101 · 4 years

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Ferrum Intro

My brain absolutely, positively refuses to focus on romance atm, which means I have made no progress on my WIP and instead my brain ended up producing this concept which I will probably continue at least until I get it out of my system. So here’s the beginning of a post-Endgame MCU/SAO Irondad fic that I went online to read, discovered it didn’t exist yet, and so could NOT GET OUT OF MY DAMN HEAD.

-------

It had been a long day.

Then again, every day seemed like a long one lately.

It had been a relatively beautiful November day for New York City, and with the approaching holidays Peter was starting to see the usual uptick in petty crime begin this season. Within his five hour patrol he had helped eight lost tourists, found one lost pet, caught two armed burglars and tied up a ridiculous number of petty thieves. Nothing too problematic, just another day in the life of our friendly neighborhood Spider-man.

Peter sat crouched on a roof looking over the newest Iron Man mural to pop up, this time right on the edge between Queens and Brooklyn. There were several around town already, but this one was especially heart-wrenching. Most were either of the armor mid-action or of Mr. Stark in his trademark press look. But this one was different in the best and worst way.

In this art, Mr. Stark was still in his armor, but the helmet was retracted, allowing the viewer to see the blood crusted on his face, the lines of worry even deeper than they were before everything had gone to hell. There weren’t many pictures of Mr. Stark from the five year period now known as the Blip, but in the ones there were Peter knew he had looked like this— tired and worn in a way Peter had never seen, but could well understand. All in all, it looked uncannily similar to the last time Peter had seen him. When—

Anyway—

And on the shoulders of this mural’s Tony Stark rested an enormous orb holding dozens of galaxies spiraling around a central point— a tiny arc reactor in the shape of a heart.

There was still a little while before he would be expected at Ned’s tonight, but the more he tried to convince himself to hit the streets again, the heavier his limbs felt.

He couldn’t do it. Not like this. Experience told him it was a recipe for disaster, likely to get himself or someone else badly hurt. Himself he could handle, someone else… his conscience couldn’t take another body added to its count right now. Besides, he had promised Ned he’d be there tonight.

Peter sighed and swung away from his rooftop perch to head back towards Ned’s, not sparing the art a backwards glance.

No matter how good it was, no reproduction could ever duplicate what he had lost.

----------

“Whoa, you’re early,” said Ned with a mild tone of shock. Which honestly… was probably fair. “I wasn’t expecting you for at least another thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, I decided to call it a night early. It was actually pretty quiet tonight anyway. Didn’t want to get too wrung out on the web considering we have plans tonight,” said Peter as he stepped into the Leeds’ apartment, slipping off his shoes and hanging his coat on the rack. “Where is everyone?”

“Dad has to work tonight, and mom and Angelica went to Laser Bounce earlier, but they should be back before too long. I stayed home to finish some stuff up before the launch tonight. Plus, I wasn’t sure when you’d be getting here, so…”

“Sorry, I should have messaged earlier.”

“You’re alright man. Like I said, I had some stuff to wrap up. I plan to be in-game as much as possible tomorrow,” said Ned as they moved into his bedroom.

“You sure you don’t mind me getting the first run tonight? They might have some secret opening event planned for the first few hours…” asked Peter.

“I am absolutely positive. I am going to have plenty of opportunities to lose unhealthy amounts of sleep to this game. Besides, between the two of us I think you need the break more than me. On a related note— you look terrible man. Have you been sleeping at all?”

“I sleep,” said Peter defensively. “I don’t really need much though, you know?”

“Physically, sure. Mentally? You’re still just as human as the rest of us Peter. Have you talked to May about it? Or Happy?”

“Can we please drop this? It’s just been a long day, alright?”

“What happened? I thought you said it was mostly quiet?” asked Ned, confused.

“I meant it was quiet for New York, I was still busy pretty much all evening,” said Peter, falling backwards onto Ned’s bed.

Ned sat down at his computer, spinning around to face Peter. “Fine, but I’m definitely going to harass you later, and you better actually sleep after we trade off in a few hours. Anyway, I am SO PSYCHED or this! God I hope its worth all the hype.”

“I can’t imagine it being a flop. The tech behind it is revolutionary, and the head developer has been working on the game for like a decade,” said Peter, as he scrolled through the GameSpot special coverage from that day.

“Wasn’t SI contracted to consult on it, too?” asked Ned.

Peter felt his throat begin to constrict. The nails of his right hand bit into the flesh of his palm as he forced himself to take a slow breath—hold—and release…

“Yeah, Mr. Stark consulted on it himself. Some of the engineering on the headset is similar to the BARF technology. I think he might have worked on a couple system AI’s as well.”

“That is so cool man. So this is almost like his last tech contribution? Last gift to the world…”

“I doubt that. It was just a consult job, most of the work was done by Argus. Plus, Mr. Stark had years worth of projects and updates on file. We’ll probably see things he had a hand in being released for the next ten years at the least,” said Peter.

“Still pretty cool though,” said Ned with a shrug.

At that moment, Peter heard the sound of a key being inserted into the lock of the front door.

“Looks like they’re back,” he said, continuing to scroll, this time through discussions on Reddit.

“Have you had dinner yet? You know if you haven’t she’s going to force you to eat before you dive.”

“Nah, I didn’t get a chance to stop off earlier. What kind of leftovers do ya have?”

“I think there’s meatloaf and some chicken adobo left at the moment.”

“Yaaasss… Chicken adobo…”

Just then Ned’s bedroom door opened, and Mrs. Leeds poked her head in, a large smile on her face.

“Peter! I thought I saw your coat by the door! I’m glad you were able to make it tonight! Edward has been excited about the sleepover for weeks,” she said.

“Oh my god, mom! It’s not a sleepover! I doubt we’ll even sleep much!”

“Isn’t that what sleepovers are about?! You’re ridiculous… Anyway, have you eaten?” Mrs. Leeds asked, looking at Peter.

Peter had to bite back a smile, but shook his head.

“Hala ka, you’re going to waste away into dry bones! I don’t care how busy you are these days, you shouldn’t be skipping meals. You’ll blow away in a strong breeze. Come, I’ll heat something up. I know how bad you boys get about eating when its a normal game. A full immersion VR? You’ll forget you even have a real body that needs sustenance.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Peter, dutifully following her into the kitchen.

“You are in luck. We have some leftover chicken adobo from last night. I know you like that recipe. Did May ever give it a go?”

Peter flashed back to the gloopy, slightly charred mess that was May’s attempt at cooking the dish. “Eh… Yeah but it wasn’t quite the same. Still needs a bit of work.”

“Huh,” Mrs. Leeds said, sounding confused.

“Peter!” shouted a voice from behind him.

“Hey Angie,” said Peter, before he felt arms wrap around him from behind in a bear hug.

His heart throbbed in his chest. His breath caught and wouldn’t come.

Thanos was coming for the gauntlet he couldn’t let him have it he had to run the aliens were grabbing him he had to—

“You never come around anymore! It’s been months—!”

“Stop that Angelica. It’s been a crazy year, and Peter stays very busy between school and an internship. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for bed? It’s already way passed bedtime.”

Angie rolled her eyes dramatically but stomped back off towards her room to do as she was asked.

“Sorry, dear. She just missed her big brothers, you know.”

Peter did his best to force out a grin, but he wasn’t sure just how well it came off because the next thing he knew Mrs. Leeds was giving him a tender kiss on the head and muttering about making some cups of cocoa.

It was moments like this that he truly felt the strange reality of the fact that he had lost five years of his life. On the surface level everything felt mostly the same— Aunt May along with the majority of his friends had also been snapped, as well as several of his teachers. But while they were gone, Ned’s little sister aged from an innocent five year old, to a ten year old girl who had grown in a world in more confusion, pain and desperation than Peter could really comprehend. Freshman he had helped tutor in school had graduated. Families he had known were irreparably torn apart, seemingly overnight.

It felt like while he was still the same, the rest of the world had tilted slight to the left, leaving him unbalanced and unsure where to step next. He’d always felt a bit out of place anyway after the spider bite, but now it was so much worse. Sometimes Peter wanted a taste of what normal used to be like, without freaky spider powers, world protecting responsibilities and the guilt of looking around him and wondering if he deserved to be here at all.

He glanced at the clock that hung on the wall— fifteen minutes till midnight.

“I should probably go brush my teeth too and get settled in. The server will open soon,” said Peter as he stood.

“Yeah, though there shouldn’t really be much to do other than to actually connect since we calibrated your account the other day,” said Ned.

Within ten minutes Peter had taken care of his nightly necessities and given Angie and Mrs. Leeds both a hug goodnight, settling in on the upper bunk of Ned’s bed.

“Last time I’m asking— are you sure you don’t mind me giving this the first run?” asked Peter.

Ned sighed and spun around from his computer to send Peter an exasperated look. “Do you not want to take it on its maiden voyage?”

“That’s not what I said,” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Then stop worrying. Just have a good time for once. Also, I downloaded a couple files to the gear. Not sure how reliable it is yet, but a few beta testers put out some first floor tips on the DL as a downloadable in game file, so check that out once you dive. It might help out a bit.”

“Will do. Thanks.”

“No problem. Now get going, and be sure to take plenty of notes in your journal to send me later.”

“See you around, kid.”

“I am older than you are by two months. Shut up and dive, loser.”

Peter smiled as he fitted the Nervegear onto his head, laid back and said, “Link Start.”

———————

In a remote, nondescript server room a certain file kicked to life. It’s programming had been remotely accessed, a mere accident of oversight. The digital pathways that connected it to the Argus servers, while known about, had been forgotten in the chaos of the last few years. The file was not one created within the system, but one created to interact within it. The Cardinal system downloaded the precious data, implementing it in the category that best described its form and function.

Program designation: Client

System ID: Ferrum Vir

Administration level: GM

. . . .

Installation Complete

————————

At 12:00 am EST on November 5th, 2023 (1:00 pm JST), Peter Parker joined 10,000 others in the world’s first full dive MMORPG— Sword Art Online.

And so did a very confused Anthony Edward Stark.

#tony stark #peter parker #irondad #irondad and spiderson #marvel cinematic universe #iron man #spider-man #MCU #sword art online #mcu/sao #fanfiction #crossover fanfiction #ai tony stark #post endgame #mostly canon compliant #im not even sure what to tag this #i have no idea where im going with it #aire101 writes #not ffh compliant

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bgn846 · 3 years

Text

The Niflheim Experiment Chapter 2

Hushed voices sounded in his ears as Gladio struggled to understand his current surroundings.

“He needs to eat; magic can only do so much.” Luna announced kindly.

“That’s all well and good, but he’s been out like a light since that bath. We’ve all tried to wake him up, it’s just not happening.” Aranea defended.

“M’wake,” Gladio managed as he opened his eyes. It was the mention of food that really roused him. It brought the realization of what the slight pain in his stomach might be. Hunger. When his eyes focused, he came face to face with Luna and Aranea. They were hovering over him and looked worried. Gladio squirmed slightly at the attention. “Hi,” was all he could think to say.

Luna smiled, and sat down on the edge of the bed he was lying in. When did that happen? Last thing he remembered was sitting in a tiny bath and crying over missing Ignis. Gladio had no choice but to push aside his memories for the time being. He knew he’d start to get upset all over again.

“Can you sit up?” Luna asked.

Gladio tried first before he answered. No point in saying he could if it didn’t work. Lifting his head off the pillow was all he could manage. “Guess not,” he grumbled after he plonked his head back down.

“We’ll help you, don’t mope,” Aranea supplied as she rounded the bed and climbed on. “Peanut and Ravus are being such butts already.”

Caught off guard by the use of the word peanut, Gladio tried to figure out what she was talking about. “Uh -- peanut?”

“Yeah, Loqi. The little blond kid that thinks he’s the astrals gift to man.”

“Oh, but why peanut?”

Aranea sighed loudly. “He comes up to your armpit Gladio so he’s small like a peanut.”

Luna’s laughter filled the room a second later, and Gladio couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She was blushing and trying mightily to hide it. “You don’t call him that to his face do you?” he asked quickly.

“Nah, he’d probably try and stab me or something, but I don’t think he could reach my heart anyway.” Aranea deadpanned.

Again, Luna laughed and let a snort lose as she turned away completely to hide her face. It was impossible not to join in while Luna sat and laughed so hard she cried. Gladio lost his composure a few seconds later and barked out a laugh. It felt good to let go and relax, he needed this moment of normalcy more than he realized.

Once Luna had recovered her wits she helped Aranea pull him up. Pillows were soon stuffed behind his back, and the moment Gladio had been waiting for arrived. Food!

Gladio didn’t care about the silly, yummy noises he was making while he ate. His body was clearly craving sustenance. It also took him far too long, to pick up on the fact that he was wearing fresh clothes. Apparently, being warm and cozy for the first time since his capture distracted Gladio. Not that he minded. “Who had to drag me outta the tub?” he asked after a moment.

“Loqi and Ravus took care of that, along with getting you changed.”

Luna rolled her eyes at the comment and huffed lightly. Gladio became immediately concerned that he’d said something bad in his exhausted state. “Did I do anything --.”

Aranea cut him off before he could finish. “Nah, it’s all good. Ravus didn’t want his sister to see your manhood.”

“What about you?!” Gladio spit out with wide eyes.

“I was also banned from the bathroom. Your dignity is still intact.”

Gladio couldn’t really think of what to say in response. He was grateful they hadn’t all seen him passed out and naked. Especially Luna. Though, he didn’t mind Aranea helping. She was the only one who knew about Ignis and it made a difference for some reason. “Where’d the clothes come from?” Gladio asked finally.

“I was out shopping earlier. So you can thank me later for making you look good.”

Smiling Gladio huffed out a small breath out. “Duly noted. Uh – where are peanut and Ravus now?” Luna snickered quietly as Aranea responded.

“They were not happy with my purchases so they have gone out to find something else. Good luck to them, this little outpost doesn’t have much.”

“You were able to talk Ravus out of wearing his armor?” Gladio asked incredulously.

“I did the deed,” announced Luna, “otherwise, he was going to wander around looking like a robot in all that metal he wears.”

“Any chance my old clothes survived?” He asked, since the image of Ravus shopping jogged his memory.

“I grabbed a bag of what should be your stuff before we left Niflheim.” Aranea replied with a shrug. “I know I saw a pair of boots in there so that’ll help when we leave here. Why? Is there anything special you’re worried about?” she asked seriously.

Shaking his head no, Gladio thought about what he had on him when he’d been captured. He doubted his cell phone had survived. His wallet was the only other thing of interest, and it only had cash and one credit card. The idea that someone in Niflheim was grabbing a coffee with his stolen card made him laugh softly.

“What’s so funny?” Luna queried.

“Just wondering if anyone stole my credit card.”

“Depends kiddo, was the limit very high?” Aranea quipped. “Besides, I don’t think cards from ‘bank of Insomnia’ work in Niflheim.” She mused with a smirk.

At the mention of Insomnia, Gladio’s mood dampened. “I wanna go home,” he sighed. “How long are we going to stay here?”

Luna instantly pouted and went to sit next to him at the head of the bed. “We need to find transportation, and then we can leave.” She answered while patting his arm.

“What happened to the drop ship?”

“Someone’s brother made me leave it behind because it drew too much attention.” Aranea huffed. “I’ve got a car lined up. When the boys get back I’ll go get it.”

“Why can’t you go now?” Gladio asked confused.

Aranea sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. “Ravus doesn’t want his sister to be alone with you.”

“I can’t even sit up on my own, what makes him think I’m gonna do anything? Not that I would anyway!” He defended.

“Don’t you have a little sister? Wouldn’t you act the same way?”

Gladio’s mind filled with memories of Iris, and his composure threatened to crack again. Six, he missed his family. Unable to answer the question without losing to his emotions, he simply nodded in response.

“Don’t get all weepy on me!” Aranea sputtered quickly. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way!”

Raising his hands, and bowing his head slightly, Gladio agreed. “Okay, okay, I just miss everybody. I don’t mean to sound so needy.”

“Considering what happened I think you are allowed. We really are working to get to Lucis. It’s not safe for us all our here anyway.” Aranea offered seriously.

“I still don’t understand what triggered this mass exodus.”

Humming thoughtfully, Aranea took a deep breath before continuing. “The emperor is crazy for starters. The path he is taking Niflheim on will only spell disaster for the country.” Pausing she fidgeted with her shirt. “We’d been planning to leave for months but your capture gave us the perfect opening.”

Gladio was still perplexed. “Why does having me with you make a difference?”

“Whether you like it or not, you’re our ticket into Lucis. The son of the king’s shield should grant us all entry. We are hoping that’ll be the case, otherwise we’re screwed.”

Blinking slowly Gladio tried to gather his thoughts. He wasn’t sure what he’d heard was good news or bad. They were merely using him as a tool to help get into Lucis. “What does Lucis have that you need?”

“The crystal and a sane leader.”

“So, you all decided to break me out. Just so you don’t get shot when you roll up to the city gates and then what?! Steal the crystal for yourselves?” Gladio angrily spit out.

“No! Gladio, you don’t understand what we mean to do.” Aranea responded vehemently. “We want to join forces with Lucis and fight against Niflheim.”

“Why didn’t you break me out sooner?” He asked sadly.

“Oh hun, we tried believe me.” Aranea cooed. “Versteal’s asshat scientists wouldn’t leave you alone, so we had to wait.”

Gladio felt sick thinking back to what he’d gone through. His memories were fuzzy on what he’d endured, which was a small blessing. The pain, Gladio could remember, and that made him shudder. Suddenly, a feeling of utter exhaustion overtook his body. Luna noticed first and began rubbing his shoulder.

“Gladio? Are you alright?” She asked with concern.

No, he wasn’t alright, but Gladio didn’t know what to say. It felt like he’d done nothing but whine since the rescue. Opting to shake his head no Gladio focused on not having another breakdown.

“Come on, you’ve finished your food. Why don’t you lie down again?” Tried Luna.

Honestly, he didn’t want to sleep. Gladio had been passed out for most of his rescue, and he was tired of being confused. However, the need for rest was too strong, and he could feel his eye lids closing. Both women were by his side in an instant, pulling him forward to remove all the pillows stuffed behind his back.

Once he was fully horizontal Gladio’s body began to shut down. “I don’t wanna sleep,” he slurred, “I need help.”

Luna shushed him and began stroking his forehead. “It’s okay, rest. You’re safe.”

“No m’n not,” he whimpered, “m’just being used.”

“No, that’s not true! Don’t talk like that!” Luna exclaimed in a panic. “Gladio – Gladio! Please believe me! Gla --.”

The rest of her words died away as he slipped into darkness.

Fevered shouting filled the room, waking Gladio up with a start. He must have cried out, because everyone was now looking at him. Luna was crying and standing in such a way that indicated she was very angry. Oh six, something really bad had happened after he’d passed out. Maybe they’d realized their plan was shit, and they didn’t need him anymore.

Swallowing hard Gladio made to speak, but Ravus cut him off. “It has come to my attention that you are feeling less than --.”

“Just let me go, I won’t say anything!” He blurted without thinking.

Ravus looked so surprised by this statement that he actually let his mouth drop open. “Wha – that’s not – what?” He tried again.

“See! I told you! He thinks we are merely using him.” Luna defended in between sniffles.

“That is not our intention Luna! I’ve been over this with you already.” Ravus huffed.

“I believe you!” She shouted in return. “It’s Gladio, you have to convince.”

Sighing heavily through his nose Ravus turned towards Gladio. “As I was saying, it has been brought to my attention that you are upset regarding your current situation.”

“Ravus!” Luna interrupted, “will you please get to the point.”

The look Ravus leveled at his sister was so familiar to Gladio. He’d experienced the same emotion before when arguing with his sister.

Once more the stoic man directed his attention to Gladio and spoke. “We only have the best intentions for you, please trust us.”

Luna outright yelled after his comment. “Why must you be so callous?”

“Enough!” Aranea bellowed. “We are wasting time we don’t have! You two, get out and get the car ready. Loqi, you help me get Gladio up and outta bed.”

Gladio decided being quiet was a good idea and waited anxiously for more instructions. Ravus had a mini staring contest with Aranea, but eventually gave up when Luna grabbed his arm and pushed him towards the door. When brother and sister were out of the room, Aranea flipped the bird at the door.

“That was for Ravus not Luna,” she added casually.

Nodding, but staying silent, Gladio tried his best to do what he was told. Aranea seemed like she was at her wits end, and Loqi wasn’t far behind. Though, they were both being very careful with him. Perhaps what Luna had told him earlier was true, maybe they did want to help.

It didn’t take long to get freshened up and ready to go. Being unable to stand, made things tricky when they finally left the room. Gladio had at least gotten some of his strength back, and could move his legs slightly. The room was on ground level thankfully, which meant there were no stairs to contend with.

Though, nothing would have prepared him for the sight that greeted him when they rounded the corner of the building. The world’s dumpiest looking sedan sat waiting for them. It had so many dents in the body that it looked mottled on purpose.

“What is that?” He choked out.

Aranea piped up with distain, “Tweedle dee and tweedle dum bought the wrong damn car.”

“It’s so small,” Gladio wondered. “How are we all gonna fit?”

Before anyone could answer Luna called them over. She had the back driver’s side door open and ready. “I made a spot for you.”

His descent into the car wasn’t exactly graceful, but thank the six, he fit. The driver’s seat in front of him had been pushed forward to allow room for his legs. Luna it seemed was working hard to accommodate his needs.

Peering around at the dated upholstery and the general wear and tear, Gladio feared the car might not get them to Lucis. Turning to ask Luna when they were leaving drew his attention to a rather heated discussion happening nearby. Ravus and Loqi were arguing over something. Leaning out of the car slightly Gladio finally heard a few words. They were debating about who would drive.

“I’m driving and that’s final.” Ravus hissed.

“Listen up, grandpa, I already called dibs on driving earlier.”

“That means nothing, and calling me names due to my hair color is rather immature.”

“You’re old Ravus, it has nothing to do with your hair.” Loqi snapped.

Gladio looked on in disbelief as Ravus suddenly lunged at Loqi. The little blond kid dove out of the way at the last minute, and turned kicking Ravus in the backside. Things degraded severely after that move. Ravus now fully vested in the fight, began working harder to take Loqi down. Watching the two of them chase each other around the parking lot in street clothes was weird.

Luna kept trying to call out to her brother, but he wouldn’t listen. Aranea had long since walked away. Clearly she was fed up with their antics. Gladio wanted to help but he didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t physically able to pull them apart. Things seemed to be cooling off after a few minutes until Ravus mucked it all up again.

Gladio easily heard Ravus call Loqi, the empire’s dog, as they were walking back to the car. In a flash Loqi had jumped on Ravus’ back and was pulling his hair. The older man shouted but couldn’t shake Loqi. The kid had a death grip and was very angry.

This was so childish, they needed to leave and this wasn’t helping. The instinct to intervene won out over common sense and Gladio moved to get out of the car. He promptly tumbled to the ground with his feet still stuck inside. The fragile hold he had on his temper shattered in that instant.

Shouting at the top of his lungs he begged for them to stop. “ENOUGH! Stop acting like kids!” He tried. “One of you assholes can ride in the trunk if you don’t want to play nice!”

The shock of his interruption caused Ravus to trip and stumble. Loqi quickly disentangled himself and backed away. The kid immediately ran over to him, giving Ravus a wide berth. “Here let me help you up.” He offered quickly.

“Leave me be,” Gladio groaned, “Just call my dad and have him come pick me up. I’m gonna be dead from shock before we ever get to Lucis.”

“We can’t call ahead big guy,” Loqi sighed. “Your military has already been infiltrated by a traitor, and we can’t alert them to our plans.”

That statement caught Gladio’s attention right away. “We have to warn the king!” He exclaimed while attempting to right himself. It didn’t work and he collapsed a second time. “Fuck this shit!” He bellowed while slamming his fist into the dirt.

Luna’s soft voice filtered through the air a moment later. “We need to leave right away. I was not aware of this development.”

Crunching gravel announced Aranea’s return. “Did one of you shitheads hurt Gladio?!” she asked quickly. Not waiting for answer she began giving orders. “Loqi you’re driving since your short and the seat is pushed forward for Gladio’s long legs.”

“Want me to help Gladio first?”

Loqi did indeed help him back into the seat. The kid seemed genuinely sorry for causing such trouble. He made sure Gladio had enough space for his legs and began adjusting his seat to drive. Ravus had since wandered back over, and slipped into the front passenger seat without a word. Luna gracefully climbed into the backseat and scooted up so close to Gladio he could feel her heart pounding. Ravus had the nerve to turn and scowl at her but she simply crossed her arms and ignored him. Aranea managed to fit in the space that was left next to Luna. With one final adjustment of mirrors, and confirmation of the direction to drive, Loqi set the car in gear, and turned onto the main road.

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#ffxv #fanfic #gladio

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the-arg0naut · 4 years

Text

A Song For Every Moon

soulmate auuu where they hear the thoughts in their soulmate’s head! anyways i wrote this in collaboration with @you-call-those-glasses and!! yes!!! (also i forgot to post this for like three weeks shhhshshh)

also blood tw! its not big described but its there so Yes

~~~~~~~~~~~

Well this certainly isn’t ideal, now is it?

It all happened so fast. He was on set crew for the school’s various shows, he always was. So it was expected that he knew his way around the various machines used for set, yeah? Usually, yes. But today was just not Virgil’s day at all.

First, he had to step out of class first block due to a panic attack caused by some stupid freshmen who thought purple was a “girl’s color,” (Who gives a shit, it’s just a color. Last I checked, colors don’t have penises or vags.) Then, Logan had to take lunch to their math class to make up a test they missed so he had to sit alone-because god forbid he go up and actually talk to new people (They’re all looking at me, I’m all alone and they’re staring at me and calling me a loser).

And then he gets to set construction, the one place he truly does feel safe, and secure, and comfortable.

And Grant just had to yell something from across the shop to him, when he knew he wouldn’t be able to hear him with the saw running.

He had turned to try and make out what he was saying. Kept feeding the wood into the machine. Didn’t even notice when his hand went just a little bit too far past the guard.

Honestly, he didn’t feel anything. Not initially, at least. Just a bit of weird tingling in his left index finger, something warm yet cool at the same time over the rest of his hand. A bit of a loud noise when the machine forced itself off, but he had earplugs in anyways, so it made no real difference.

He only realized something was wrong when Grant started screaming at him, yelling something, good lord what’s all this yelling for-

Well. That’s quite a bit of blood. I didn’t even know I had so mu...

He barely had looked at his hand, barely had time to think a single thought before passing out. Blood and all really isn’t so cool when it’s cascading down your hand and onto the piece of plywood you were previously trying to cut.

He faded in and out of consciousness for a little while. Caught glimpses of things. Grant and Brandon carrying him out of the building. Flashing lights. Latex gloves.

He came to in the ambulance, two EMTs and Grant beside him. He registered that his hand hurt, jesus christ my fucking hand hurts, good god, can’t they give me some drugs or something-

Drugs? What would you need drugs for? And what do you mean, your hand hurts? Oh goodness, this has to do with the blood you mentioned earlier, doesn’t it?

Whoops. No one had thought to contact Logan, his soulmate. They must’ve heard him when he saw his hand, and promptly passed out. God, they must’ve been so worried, just a mention of a shitton of blood and then nothing, can’t even imagine-

Yes, it was very worrisome, and even more so when you wouldn’t answer my phone calls. What the hell happened?

Just a… bit of an incident with the table saw.

Table saw?!

Calm down, it’s got that cool thing where if it senses, like, warmth or flesh or whatever, it forces itself to turn off. Breaks a bunch of the parts inside, but- oh god, James is gonna be pissed, those parts aren’t cheap-

Virge, I don’t think how the saw’s doing is what we need to be worrying about right now. How bad did it… cut you?

No idea. I passed out after seeing all the blood. I never got a good look at it. I could ask the paramedic next to me.

Oh good, you’re in an ambulance, at least you’re getting treatment. Yes, ask them, and then ask which hospital you’re going to.

Will do, love.

He turned to Grant and the paramedic currently busying herself with a bag beside his head.

“Hey, Grant. Hey, uhhh, I don’t know your name, paramedic person,”

“My name is Annabelle.”

“Cool, hi Annabelle. So, uh, how bad’s the damage?”

“Well, we’ll be able to better tell exactly how much got lacerated when we get to the hospital, but from just getting it cleaned up, it doesn’t look too bad. A cut maybe half a centimeter in on your left index finger.”

“Cool, I won’t lose my finger. Where are we heading, by the way?”

“Since your friend here let us know that you’re still 16, and legally a minor, we’re headed to B. Major Children’s Hospital.”

“Grant, how dare you snitch on me.”

Grant only tentatively chuckled. Dammit, he blames himself.

Huh?

Grant. I’ll explain once we get there. We’re going to B. Major Children’s.

I’m on my way. What did the paramedic say?

Nothing awful. Just a cut on my left index finger. Half a centimeter, she said.

Okay, good. You had me worried that you’d lost it or something.

Nope. It lives to do homework another day.

Does it still hurt?

Like a mother trucker. Hurts like a buttcheek on a stick.

You’re insufferable.

You know you love meee.

Yes, yes I do.

I’m gonna ask Grant what’s eating him. See you in the ER?

See you in the ER.

“Hey Grant?”

He startled a little bit, having been staring off into space. “Yeah V?”

“You alright?”

He looked away again. “Yeah. I’m fine. You’re the one who nearly lost his finger.”

Virgil laughed. “Oh, hush, you heard the paramedic. It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah…”

Virgil sat up some, looking at him. “Hey, dude, it wasn’t your fault. I was the one who turned away from it.”

Grant continued avoiding his eyes. “Well, yeah, but I was the one who distracted you. If I hadn’t tried talking to you with the saw on…”

“Bro, it’s alright. I don’t blame you. Just think of it as me testing out the saw’s safety feature. We know it works!”

He finally laughed some. “Yeah, but I’d rather that feature not have to be used.”

“So does the school. Oooo, and James. Imagine, the one day you’re not there, one of the kids gets his finger nicked by the table saw. I’d hate to be him right now.”

“I’d hate to be him any day. I mean, the guy drives a Volkswagen Beetle. A damn Beetle!”

“Man, imagine. Tragic.”

“Truly tragic.”

~~~

They pulled in to the ER not long after, Virgil awake, talking and laughing. The doctors got him in his room and began assessing it. Virgil looked away, not particularly wanting to pass out again. He tuned back into his/Logan’s thoughts (it was hard to tell the difference sometimes), only to hear a stream of frustration from his partner.

...stupid bureaucracy, the hell do you mean, “I have to wait,” my boyfriend got his damn hand caught in a table saw! I think that counts as urgent enough, and I’m practically family at this point, which doesn’t even matter to them because either you’re blood related, married, or complete strangers by their standards-

You’re rambling again.

I’m aware. These damn receptionists won’t tell me where you are, because you’re in the ER and I guess I’m not close enough related to you to go back and see you…

Lo…

...which is stupid because some people don’t have blood relatives that can or want to come visit them…

Logan…

...which means that some poor patients here are probably all alone because they won’t let their friends go and see them-

Logan Sanders listen to me or I’ll come and find you myself!

...that would be preferable.

It was a threat, nerd, and anyways I can’t even move, they’re sewing it shut.

Did they at least give you Dilaudid or lidocaine?

I’ll guess those are painkillers?

Yes, and Dilaudid is a highly addictive painkillers, which is why I hope they didn’t give you that and just used a nerve block like lidocaine-

Lo.

Sorry.

They did numb it with something, not sure what. Either way, it’s numb, but I can still kinda feel them messing around over there. I am choosing not to look so I don’t pass out again.

Yes, don’t do that again. Radio silence from my boyfriend isn’t exactly a pleasurable experience.

Doesn’t exactly sound like it.

One second, the receptionist is talking to me again.

I’ll be here.

Quiet for a moment. You usually don’t think about the words as you speak them, which Virgil found little annoying, because it meant he couldn’t hear what Logan was saying. It was a couple minutes before Logan popped back into his head.

She finally told me where you were. I’m on my way up.

Oh good, I missed you at lunch today.

I heard.

Oh yeah. I forget you can hear me sometimes.

I wish I could forget. Remember that one thought from last week?

Oh my godddd let it gooo.

“Teenage meetant neeja teetles”???? What does that even mean???

Shhhhh don’t try and figure out my shitpost brain.

Wouldn’t dream of it. Have the doctors finished sewing you up?

Yep, it’s all pretty and clean and bandaged. They told me not to move it too much but jokes on them, I’m left handed, so catch me wiping my ass with my fucked up hand.

One, ew. Two, do not do that.

Y’all can’t stop me.

“But what if I could?” they said as they walked into his room, sitting in a chair beside him.

“You wouldn’t.” he teased. “You know you’d just watch me be stupid and shake your head at my ridiculousness.”

“It’s almost as if you’re speaking from experience.”

“Me? Being serially stupid? Never.”

Logan laughed, smiling at him. “... Are you okay though? Like, getting your finger lacerated by a table saw probably isn’t that fun.”

“I mean, nah, it’s not that great, but hey, I get to miss school for a day or two.”

“Are they keeping you overnight?”

“Yeah, just for a night, to make sure the saw didn’t have any bad garbage that got in my finger.”

“Do you want me to go and bring you anything?”

“I’ve already texted Patton about what happened and he’s gonna bring me… food. He didn’t specify what, but he yelled about bringing me sustenance.”

“Sounds about right. Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

“Honestly, Lo? I just want you to be here with me.”

“That I can do.”

~~~

Patton walked into Virgil’s room, tupperware in hand, humming some sort of something. Probably some of those lo-fi songs Roman deems “not dramatic enough.” He smiled at the two, asleep, Logan holding Virgil’s good hand. He left the tupperware container on his bedside table, set Logan’s glasses beside it, kissed them both on the forehead, and walked out, still humming.

Virgil would later swear he heard his humming and would aggressively question him on what song it was (“I know it, I know I know it, I know I know I know it!”). But he wouldn’t let up. “Just know it’s definitely a love song.” (“Of course it’s a love song, it’s Patton”).

“It’s a song worthy of the moon.”

#this is adorableee and i wrote it #analogical #ts logan #ts virgil #thomas sanders

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cellard0ors · 5 years

Text

Fic: the beginning is the end is the beginning

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Buzzfeed Unsolved, Godzilla: King of the Monsters

Pairing: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej

Warning: Apocalyptic!End!Of!The!World stuff, mentions of dead people, mass suicides

Summary: The Titans have returned. The world has ended. The Ghoul Boys are still here.

Notes: HO-KAY. This is dedicated to @theawfuledges, who has always been super sweet, super supportive, and who had a bad day a while back and deserved something then but I. Take. FOREVER.

Inspired by this sorta-not-really-prompt-post and also the fact that @theawfuledges seems to also enjoy Godzilla. This is the Shyan!Godzilla!AU NO one asked for and probably NO one will care about - but! I had fun writing it enough that I’d consider coming back to it at some point - I mean, why not, amiright?

Anyway - excuse all my philosophizing about the end of the world via Titans and enjoy…

AO3 Link

They’ve been walking through the wasteland for almost an hour now and Shane can still feel Ryan’s eyes on his back. He ignores it, as he’s been ignoring it. He’s even whistled a tuneless song on and off during their walk, just to rub it in. A sort of reminder that he’s oblivious and doesn’t know Ryan’s trying to burn a hole through him. I mean, he does know, but it’s just…it’s too funny.

Ryan is always too funny when’s worked up into a snit. No, not funny…cute. Something Shane probably shouldn’t think about, but think he does. The best way to try to not think about it? Antagonize the little guy. So antagonize he does, finally stopping in their rambles to squat down at a larger than usual rock he’s kicked at.

It didn’t make him stumble exactly, but it caught his attention enough to make him stop and bend down. He tosses the smooth white stone around in one palm, grinning, “Well, well, well…ain’t you a nifty lookin’ fella…”

He stands back up, fully aware that Ryan has stopped a few feet behind him and is still glaring. Hell, he’s probably reached seething at this point. Balled up fists shaking at his sides and the mere idea of that imagery – the utter adorableness of it – breaks Shane’s resolve, “What?”

“Really?!” Ryan finally explodes and his voice cracks over the word and Jesus, the guy is too goddamn precious for words, “A rock?! That’s what catches your attention?!”

“Sure! This baby could be a geode! Just need to crack ‘er open and see if she sparkles!” Shane returns as he waggles the stone in Ryan’s direction, lips curled in a devious smile. He finally turns to look behind him and see Ryan and oh, no.

Shane wants to press a hand to his heart. Ryan has moved beyond cute, beyond adorable, beyond precious. He’s reached that level where it takes all of Shane’s willpower not to dart right over and kiss the breath out of him as Ryan cries, “I’ve been shooting death daggers at you for over an hour now!”

“Have you?”

“Yes, you monumental jackass! And I know you know it!”

Shane can only chuckle and Ryan frantically waves his arms about, “It’s been weeks now and we still have yet to talk about it! We just go out for recons, talk banal shit, and you – you stop for a fucking pebble instead of doing what you should do!”

Shane merely raises his eyebrows, that question enough and Ryan comes closer, breath all huffy and puffy and the perfect representation of a temper tantrum in human form, “Which is give me the world’s biggest fucking apology!”

“…for?”

“FOR?!” Another word cracked by hysteria, “Being right! Monsters exist! Or is this-” Ryan yet again waves about, waves around at the miles and miles of baked, orange earth and uprooted, long dead trees. The rubble of buildings long since lost, the endless expanse of nothing but baseless destruction – “-not proof enough for you?!”

Shane just dips the rock in Ryan’s direction like it’s the tip of a pointer, “Never said monsters weren’t real. I said ghosts weren’t,” he draws the rock back and continues walking, voice very sage, “And that continues to be a fact." He turns away and starts walking again, "Now the Titans? Oh man, those boys are flesh and blood. Meat and bone. Just like Bigfoot and hey, do you think-?”

“…stop it…”

Shane turns to look at him again even as he continues walking backwards, “-Bigfoot is a Titan?”

Ryan only stops to pinch the bridge of his nose. His earlier anger has finally spooled out of him thanks to his outburst, leaving only his normal Shane-oriented exhaustion, “I mean, he’s no Godzilla or Gidroah-”

“Ghidorah.”

“Hmm?”

Ryan’s tone is bone weary, “You said it wrong. It’s Ghidorah.”

Shane just waves a hand like it’s no big deal and Ryan stands up a little taller, clearly offended by the gesture. Perfectionist. Shane is pretty sure his smile is never going to leave, “Whatever. But Bigfoot…he can hang with the big boys, right?”

“I don’t think Bigfoot is capable of leveling Los Angeles which, news flash, is what happened when Godzilla and the other Titans trampled through!”

“It was their world first, pal,” is his amicable response, “We just have to do our best to live with it.”

Ryan looks less than pleased at that revelation and Shane can’t blame him. Still…

Finally Shane sobers, stopping to look at Ryan with all due seriousness, “Ryan…”

He doesn’t say any more. He doesn’t have to. Ryan just gives his own subdued head bob because, well, it’s the truth. They do have to do their best to live with it. What else can they do? They have no power over creatures taller than skyscrapers. Ancient beasts on par with living gods. The human race did what it could. It wasn’t enough. But – to be fair – what could they do?

Humanity always likes to think of itself as the top tier – nothing bigger, nothing brighter, nothing stronger. And within the span of a few weeks that was proven horribly untrue. Frankly, Shane always knew it would be – humility is something every living being should possess and a lot of humanity lost that long ago – but frankly, he’d been banking on aliens.

Not big ol’ monsters.

Regardless, they are where they are. In a world where massive creatures walk the earth and humans have been knocked down several pegs. Pegs that have to scurry out shelter and he and Ryan found it. They reach it now – an underground bunker dug deep into the earth by god knows who.

The first time they’d found the little hide-ho they’d intended to merely use it for one night, sure that the original owners would appear. But they didn’t. Night after night passed and no one came to claim the bunker – so Shane decided they should claim it for themselves. Hell, they took a bridge from a Goatman and made it their own – why not a bunker?

Hence why it’s colorful name – ‘The Goatman’s Bunker’. He’d even made a sign to that effect once they’d managed to scrounge up some paper and workable pens. Funny the things you find littered amongst the refuse. Like his cool new rock – which he now sets alongside other treasures he’s found in their travels. A kid’s beat up plastic car, a broken snow globe, a crushed cup advertising Disneyland (long since gone – a collectible now!), and other debris he found of interest.

Ryan takes off his backpack and reaches inside, digging out various goodies they scavenged today. Dented bottles of water (always a god send), band-aids, several tin cans of vegetables and meats, scraped bottles with unreadable labels and anything else he could shove in.

They’re both pretty sure they’d come across the ruins of some pharmacy today – maybe a CVS or Walgreens or something – but neither could be certain. But there had certainly been a nicer haul than usual. Some days they walked out into the wasteland and found nothing for miles but old car parts and the occasionally, questionable collection of garbage.

Sometimes…sometimes they found worse things…

Both of them tried their best not to think of those things. Awful, sad things. Dead things. Crushed things. They had a radio in the bunker and there was the occasional chatter, but mostly? Mostly the world was silent. Funny how quickly a world, its people, its governments – could fall apart in the face of something it couldn’t understand.

There was word of massive suicide sites. Places where religious fanatics scrambled, unable to comprehend a world in which something their God couldn’t have possibly made appeared. There was word of places where ground born militias formed. People bloodthirsty for revenge, willing to do whatever they have to, to fight back, to rage against the sky – against forces beyond their control. There has been a lot of different word…but nothing that really concerns the two of them.

At least not for now.

For now?

For now the Ghoul Boys have their Goatman’s Bunker and a questionable collection of cans that will provide tonight’s sustenance.

What Shane wouldn’t give for a can opener. He’s gotten pretty good at stabbing cans open with the knife he has, but sometimes tiny metal shavings still end up in their meals. Tonight is no exception. He stabs away at a few cans, digs out what he can on to broken plates they’d found. Broken, a little chipped – but surprisingly in pretty good condition.

The food, however, is mush. Shane scoops up a bit with his fingers and licks at it, wincing as the taste, “Think this is chickpeas…or maybe hominy…”

“Those two things are very different.”

“Oh, sorry Paul Prudhomme – what’s your expansive palate telling you?”

Ryan’s nose wrinkles even as he takes his own bite, “Um…peaches?”

“Pe-?” Shane can’t even finish, laughing, because this sure as shit isn’t peaches. As is his way, Ryan looks charmingly flummoxed, “I taste something sweet, you dipshit!”

“Well, you did just stick your fingers in your mouth, didn’t you?” Shane teases and he knows it’s on the edge of a flirt and dammit, bad idea, Shane, bad idea…

Again – as is his way – Ryan ignores it. Shane releases the breath he isn’t even aware he’s holding. Good. Ryan shouldn’t respond. Good. And yet…

Shane takes another bite of his ‘dinner’ and it’s as questionable as the last. Maybe even more so, given their last interaction. This is not the time. This is SO not the time. The world’s ended. Or, well, the world as they knew it. Now is not the time to put the moves on Ryan. It wasn’t before. It isn’t now. When will it ever-?

Never, his thoughts whisper, and Shane feels his face fall, feels an uncharacteristic moroseness take him. He polishes off what last few bites he can manage, even though he’s not hungry, and then he rubs his hands clean on the material of his dirty jeans. Not the most hygienic, true – but they can’t waste water.

He can always find some stream tomorrow – do a better job then. Say what you will about the Titans, but their returns had brought some worth while things. California was flusher with fresh streams than ever before. Glowing green plant life – plant life that, before – would have scorched – now flourishes here. It’s as if the arrival of these creatures changed the very exosphere.

He wonders how global warming looks now. Have they caused a monumental shift in it? Probably. If anything has the power to, they probably do. Fuck, they can probably grow back icebergs or something. Create new fossil fuels. God – or heh, Godzilla – knows what. Once feeling his hands are sufficiently clean, he sighs and looks over at Ryan who has started in on again on his torn, dog-eared novel.

“Thinking I’m going to hit the hay.”

Ryan blinks, “Already?”

He just shrugs, “Long day.”

“Yeah,” Ryan admits softly and Shane goes over to his sleeping bag. It’s funny, but in as much as things changed, some have stayed the same. Sleeping together in a dirty, gross shit holes? Just like old times. Except no one’s filming with plans to upload it to the internet later.

The internet. Man. Talk about something to miss. The whole world at your fingertips. Although, in a way, they now have that albeit in a much more literal sense. Shane snuggles deep into his bag and falls to sleep far quicker than he thought he would.

Ryan, for his part, continues to idly pick through his uncovered novel. It’s a pretty decent tale. Romance. Big shocker. The world is over and all he can find in the remains are old bodice rippers. But a book is a book – entertainment is pretty goddamn scarce these days. He’ll take what he can get. True, he wants to click on the radio – see if there’s any good word, any good news – but he doesn’t want to disturb Shane.

…even if the bastard won’t admit he’s wrong. And yeah, the Titans aren’t ghosts. But they are real. So, if they’re real – it’s not much of a stretch to think the same thing of ghosts.

…probably a lot more ghosts now…what with all the…

Ryan can’t even coherently string it all together. All the lives lost. Too many to even begin to contemplate. A planetwide event, a tragedy beyond bearing. And here the two of them are. Holed up in their little bunker, trying to live the best lives they can. Ryan’s a few more pages in when he hears that familiar hum.

His mouth twitches, unable to resist the smile forming.

Ha-hum. Ha-hum. Ha-Hum.

The sound Shane makes while he sleeps. The soft hum of his breathing. Ryan can’t even count how many times he’s fallen asleep to that sound. Clung to it when they were shooting in creepy locations. He never slept well in supposedly haunted locations…but he always slept a little better when they shared space. When he hears those sounds.

Ha-hum. Ha-hum. Ha-Hum.

Like the bastard laughs in his sleep. Although, the sound isn’t quite like a laugh. It just…it has that same warm sound, that rewarding quality his laughter carries. Affable, irresistible, rich and…Ryan looks down at the words on the pages of the book before him, feels his cheeks heat. He’s been reading far too much of this mushy shit. It’s messing with his thoughts. He closes the book and contemplates his options.

Sleep is probably the best among them. He looks to Shane again. Long limbs all akimbo – awkward. He fits within his cocoon and yet not. Ridiculous – those stork legs, those string bean arms…

…how would those arms feel wrapped around-?

Ryan literally tosses his book aside. All your fault, he thinks at it, even as he stands up rolls his shoulders. Okay. Calm on. Relax. Don’t be stupid. Just go to sleep.

He climbs into his own bag, which isn’t far from Shane’s. He dampens their lanterns and it’s dark, cool, quiet. He’s almost asleep when he hears it. A deep, hefty rumble. Like thunder, but worse. Far worse. Worse because no storm has this feeling behind it. This pure, volatile energy.

He sits up, his breath catching. It’s far off in the distance, but it doesn’t matter. He knows what it is. It’s one of them. His heart leaps into his throat and fear throttles him so roughly that at first he can’t move – eyes watering as the sound grows in strength.

…boom…boom…Boom…BOOM!

The last makes the ground shake and he hates the goddamn squeak that leaves him as he physical jolts. Shane (sonofabitch!) is still asleep and Jesus Christ, does this fucker sleep through everything?! Ryan rolls his bag hard to one side, closer to Shane, knocking him with enough force that Shane wakes, voice groggy with sleep, “…izzat?”

“They’re coming! They’re coming!” Ryan wishes he didn’t sound so whiny and high pitched and frantic. For fuck’s sake – he’s a grown man! But the sound of those…footsteps…

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The ground beneath them shakes violently. Ryan’s experienced earthquakes before (California born and raised) but this is beyond that. This is as if the planet itself is coming apart. Shane sits up, even as Ryan shushes at him, tugs at him – as if somehow Shane’s sitting up, underground, in the dark, can signal the Titans above them.

Shane tilts his head this way and that – clearly doing his best to listen. To pinpoint. And then he slowly turns back to Ryan, “Hey, hey…shush, shush…they’re moving away…”

Ryan’s eyes hurt from being open so wide. Ryan’s chest hurts because his heart is beating so fast. Ryan’s…hurt. He hurts and hurts and suddenly he’s in Shane’s arms. Shane is cuddling him close, “Ry? Ryan, buddy, come on…come on! Calm down, calm down. Breathe…”

…he can’t…Ryan can’t…

“You can,” Shane intones firmly and Ryan realizes he’s said something to that effect aloud, “Ryan, breathe.”

Ryan drags in one loud, long shuddering breath. Then another. Then another. His mind briefly flickers over all he’s lost. All they’ve lost. All the friends, all the family, all the people…the world…

His wide eyes fill. Blink. Shed some tears, there and gone, and he’s still breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. He curls forward some, relaxes, and he’s in Shane’s arms and they’re not quite as string bean as he thought. They have strength and weight and long fingers are stroking through his sweat damp, dark hair. Soothing it back from his forehead.

Ryan lets out a jittery wheeze, “Sorry…must think I’m a dumb ass.”

“No.”

“Shane…”

“Ryan, you’re not a dumb ass because you’re afraid.”

“You’re not.”

“Shows what you know.”

“Shane…”

“Ryan,” Now it’s Shane’s turn to sound bone weary, “We played up that shit for the show. You know that. Being scared of heroin needles and avocado pits and…and you know,” he says it so firmly, with such deep assurance that – even in the darkness of the bunker – Ryan knows he’s looking directly into his eyes, “You know I’m just as human as everybody else. That I get afraid. That I am afraid.”

“Yeah?” Ryan asks and he can’t see the nod, but he knows he gets it. And Shane’s right. Of course he’s right. Ryan knows he’s right. Shane’s not any more of a dumb ass than he is. They have every right to be afraid. Everyone in the world currently is. It’s all changing. It’s all becoming new. So new that to-to be afraid of other things? Silly things? Well, that would be what would make him a dumb ass, right?

And it’s this thought that leads Ryan to ask, “Can I kiss you?”

Two little balls of heat form right on the apples of his cheeks, lighting zipping up and down his spine because – holy shit – did he just say that out loud? And he can’t really see Shane in the cool darkness of the bunker. Their lanterns are out, but he can feel him. Sense him. He’s…close.

And then Shane answers.

“I don’t know…can you?”

It takes Ryan a moment to digest this response. And when he does? He fishes out his flat pillow and hopes it hits hard as he smacks right across Shane’s face, “Fuck you! You-!”

The curse is said without any real heat, but it can’t be helped, because, well – goddammit! So Ryan plans to keep on pummeling Shane until he somehow dies from pillow pummeling only for Shane to stop him. He manages to catch his pillow and stall his movements as he grunts out, “No! Hey! S-sorry, look-! I just-! I just couldn’t help myself, y’know?”

“Oh, do I?!”

“Yeah, man I mean – it was right there!” Shane damn near pleads with him, clearly feeling the opportunity was too good to pass up, “Besides, it was…it was too damned much. You asking like that…all hat in hand…”

Ryan’s struggles with the pillow cease as Shane comes…closer. He can feel him closer. The heat of him, the rush of air on his lips in the dark as Shane talks that his breathe caresses Ryan’s mouth, “But you can, Ryan.”

The last is said with such intensity that Ryan’s whole body shakes harder than when the Titans walked near them. His heart booms louder than their steps. He feels Shane hovering so close, “…I’ve wanted you to.”

A thick, noisy swallow and a very cracking, very insecure, “Yeah?”

“Mmm. Been waiting for you to.”

“R-really?”

A soft scoff, “No, actually – never thought you were interested. Never thought I’d be so lucky. But goddamn Ryan, if you are? You can kiss me and then some.”

That’s all the incentive Ryan needs. He charges forward and yes – kissing in the dark when you’re not quite sure where the other person is? Awkward. WEIRD. Ryan’s lips sort of miss Shane’s and there’s a laugh and a snort and a lot of fumbling in the pitch black dark.

But then?

Oh, then.

Then there’s lips meeting and Ryan’s thoughts splinter, his veins ignite and he’s kissing Shane. Their tongues are tangling, lips playing along one another and suddenly the world isn’t over. It’s just beginning.

#shyan #my writing #theawfuledges #prompt #ish #godzilla!au

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ronyxfic · 5 years

Text

Educating the Victim - Act VI, Chapter XXII

Pairing: -

Rating: Mature

Warnings/Tags: alcohol, discussion of mental illness.

CHAPTER 22: Impulse

It was getting late. Pearl caught the clock in the corner of her eye just as her belly let out a loud rumble.

She entertained the idea of skipping dinner for far longer than she should have. The idea of potentially running into Greg was daunting.

But she’d barely eaten all day, and she needed to be better than that. So with a sigh, she resolved, at around 10pm, to go down to the kitchen. Surely it was late enough that she wouldn’t encounter anyone.

Greg was in the living room, assembling what appeared to be a box of records. He glanced up as he saw her descend the stairs, and offered a smile. "Oh, hey, Pearl! You still up?"

Pearl resisted the urge to grimace. “Hi, Greg,” she said. “Uh, just getting some food. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

"You can stay in my hair. I've had to accept things getting tangled up in it." He looked a little taken aback, frowning despite a kind tone. "I was figuring that maybe we could get to know one another since you're gonna be here for a while."

“Uh...”

Pearl hesitated and turned to face him instead of darting into the kitchen, out of sight. “I mean, sure, I guess. It’s late now, though, so not today. I should probably head to bed anyway.” The temptation to turn tail and go back to her room was hard to resist. “I’m just gonna make some food first.”

"Oh, alright!" Greg didn't seem to catch the discomfort in her voice. "You free tomorrow evening? I could dig out some board games from storage. Hey, we could do halfsies on a pizza!"

“Oh. Uh. I think I’m over at my friend’s place tomorrow.” No plans had been made, but Amethyst was probably down, and Pearl didn’t want to make concrete plans with Greg.

"Oh, okay! My week after that is a lil sketchy. I got some gigs that haven't been given a time yet. How's about you text me when you're free?"

“Oh! Yeah, that would work. I have exams now, though, so I don’t know when I’m free.” The answer was probably never. “Anyway, gonna make food now. You, uh, want anything?”

"Oh! Sure, fetch me a root beer." He gave her a big smile. "Can't wait! I'll try to dig up something interesting for it. What games do you like?"

Pearl stuck her head out of the kitchen. “Anything, really,” she said, “I guess stuff you can play with two people.”

Bless him, he was really trying.

Pearl was not in the mood to socialise with Rose’s partner, though.

"I can accommodate that. What are ya making?"

“Oh. Just some toast.”

"Okay! Lemme know how we're doing for bread. Rose said she'd send some money for shopping next week." He resumed flipping through the records, and rearranging their order in the stack.

“Okay,” Pearl said, feeling like this particular interaction was over. Well, that was something, at least.

There was a curt knock on Rose's door. Marigold's voice seemed rather quiet "Rose? I was wondering if you wanted to go and eat. I'm not sure when the restaurant closes, but I think it's best to go sooner rather than later."

Rose, who just got done freshening up, opened the door. “Oh, hey! I was just about to go out and look for food. Have you found your appetite?”

"Yes. It might help with the mood and... it would be foolish to go looking for Roxy without sustenance."

Rose checked her phone. “It’s eight now,” she said. “Where should we go?”

"Hmm." Marigold looked to the door. "Downstairs?"

“Might as well,” Rose said. She grabbed her purse. “You ready now?”

"Yeah." Marigold walked to the door. "You have a key?"

“Yup. Let’s go.”

A few moments later, they found themselves by the restaurant, where a very sheepish waitress told them in heavily accented English that they stopped serving food at eight.

"Okay. Change of plans." Marigold clapped her hands together. "Why don't we go to some place outside? I'm sure it could be lovely."

“... yeah, okay,” Rose said. “Do you know if there’s any places nearby?”

Marigold awkwardly rubbed her arm. "I don't know if I even want to leave. I'm nervous about bumping into her."

“We’re just going out for food. What are the odds of us running into a wanted criminal at a quiet restaurant while we’re just having dinner? It’ll be fine.”

Marigold was silent for a moment before nodding. "I suppose you're right. Want me to Google what's nearby?"

“Yeah, sure,” Rose said. “Or maybe the staff here have recommendations?”

"You could ask," Marigold said, tapping on her phone.

“I’d feel awkward, after earlier,” Rose said. She then spied some leaflets in a familiar language. “Oh, hey! This has a map of the town, with restaurants and recommendations!”

Her eyes flickered over the symbol indicating a casino. Only one in the entire town.

"Anything good? My internet is being a bit spotty."

Rose skimmed the reviews. “This one sounds nice!”

On the map, it was dangerously close to the casino. “Though, maybe not. Uh. There’s another one that looks like it’s really close to the hotel. Here?” She showed Marigold the map, pointing to the restaurant she’d scouted out.

Marigold tilted her head. "Hm. I like the look of the other one. Maybe a walk might help my nerves."

Rose bit her lip. Nothing’s going to happen. You’re going to the restaurant, not the casino.

“Alright then,” she said.

"I take it that I won't have to spend the night babysitting your drunk behind." Marigold nudged her playfully as she walked out of the door.

“Oh, absolutely not. I’m not having any alcohol. ...maybe some wine with dinner, but that’s all, really.”

Marigold cocked a brow. "Alright. If you say so."

The restaurant was about fifteen minutes away. It was loosely populated, and they managed to get a table near the window.

“Now here comes the real challenge,” Rose said as the menus were being brought. “These aren’t in English.”

"Oh, no!" Marigold laughed. "I do suppose we'll have to hope we see something familiar."

Rose had a look at the menu. “Well, I know what ‘pizza margherita’ means,” she said, “maybe it’s not that bad after all. Oh, they have lots of wine.”

"Pollo is chicken, yes?" Marigold glanced at her own. "I wouldn't mind some pasta."

They ordered their food, and Rose couldn’t resist ordering one of the red wines. It was just one glass.

“So, do you think we should go out to look for her tomorrow?” she asked after the waiter was gone.

"Yes. Absolutely." Marigold swallowed, her face displayed signs of distress at the thought. "We only have a few days. Any hour we don't use is an hour closer for interpol."

“Very true,” Rose said. Their drinks came, and Rose had a sip of the red wine. “Oh, that is delicious. ...I’d offer you some, but you’re teetotal, aren’t you?”

Marigold sipped at a flute of fizzy water. "I'm alright, thanks. It's nearly been six months since I stopped."

“Impressive. I should probably stop as well. But wine is so good.” Rose had another sip.

"That it is." Marigold put her glass down. "A couple of glasses tended to get me just the right kind of adventurously tipsy. It's the spirits that cause trouble."

“Well, they’re good if all you want is to forget everything,” Rose said. “Like last night. I knew it was a bad idea, and I did it anyway.”

"Tell me about it. Funnily enough, all I ever drank with Roxy was shot upon shot and barely remembered anything in the mornings."

Rose grimaced. “I know we had this discussion earlier, but she must’ve done it on purpose. She did it with me.”

Marigold glanced away, touching her neck in an awkward way. "Yes, it's been on my mind a lot."

“Are you worried that something... bad might’ve happened that you don’t remember?”

"Yeah. I suppose I am." Her voice was dry.

“Hmm.” Rose frowned, had more wine. “Really, we can’t go from here without Roxy. She’s the one who’s got the answers, and without her, you’ll never know what happened.”

"Oh yes, that'll really help us to get her to give herself up peacefully." Marigold rolled her eyes. "'Oh, hello, Roxy! Long time, no see! Could you come with us? Also, did you do things to me without consent while I was blackout drunk that night ten or so years ago? You know?' That'll go really well."

“Well, finding her would be a place to start,” Rose said. “Everything else will have to wait. And... honestly, I have no idea how to talk to her. I mean, there’s kind of an entire unfinished court case between us.”

"I guess that's why I'm here!" There was fake jubilation in Marigold’s voice. "To talk to her..."

“Well, what would you say?” Rose said. “Say, you run into her tomorrow morning while out to get lunch or something. What do you say?”

Marigold laughed. "What would I even? Hm... 'Hello, Roxy. There's an interpol search on you. Come with me if you want to live.'"

“Huh, sounds a bit like blackmail to me. You sure that’ll go down well?”

"It's the truth, isn't it?"

“I suppose.” Rose sighed.

The waiter brought over their food, and Rose hesitated, looking at her pizza.

"What's wrong? It looks good." Marigold grabbed a fork and poked at a large plate of spaghetti.

“It does. I’m just not that hungry.” It wasn’t technically a lie. Rose sighed, then decided to elaborate. “I... she always made me feel guilty about eating. And it’s been five years and I’ve gotten so much better, but all of this shit has just brought everything back up. In some ways, I still feel like she’s watching me, criticising every bite I eat.” She swallowed. “It’s pizza. High calorie. I... I should just eat it. I can’t believe I’m still letting her control me like this.”

Marigold frowned, and then gently put her hand on Rose's. "It's all alright. You should still eat. If anything, you need the calories after vomiting up everything yesterday and barely eating today. Besides, if you really want to spite her for making you feel this way, surely eating should be the best way forward."

Rose sighed once again. “Intellectually, I agree with you. It’s just... hard.” She reluctantly took a bite.

“Actually, never mind, this tastes fantastic,” she said after a few minutes. “God. Italy, right? I’m never touching Domino’s again.”

Marigold chuckled tenderly as she withdrew. "I do understand the difficulty, though. The media and all that doesn't help us ladies with our self image, either. I've seen a lot of girls go through eating problems in my school."

Rose nodded. “Yeah, absolutely. Pearl being one of them, of course. I’m sure you know about that, with her being Aurora’s sister, and all.”

Marigold looked away. "Yes. But I only heard about the whole ordeal after she'd been taken to hospital."

Rose grimaced. “Poor girl. You know, it was the reason I got close to her in the first place. I noticed she had problems... and having gone through it myself, I just wanted to help.”

Marigold couldn't quite meet Rose's eyes. "Yes, I remember you saying so. I would have gotten involved sooner if I hadn't been such a drunk scumbag."

“Well. You’re better now. And so is Pearl. That’s what matters.”

"True. She does look a lot better these days." Marigold gave a nod. "Goodness. I was so cross with her when she returned to retract her statement about you."

“Yeah, I remember her saying you weren’t happy. But I’m still glad she did it.” Rose finished her glass of wine. The waiter appeared by her side, and Rose let him refill her glass.

Marigold watched her. "I thought you weren't going to get as drunk. Not trying to control you or anything, we just can't afford to waste more time hungover."

“Two glasses won’t get me that drunk,” Rose assured her. “And I’m stopping after this one.”

"Alright." Marigold resumed eating her pasta. "My god, these portions are huge."

“Do you think we can take the food away if we don’t finish it? It would be a shame to waste it.” Rose, who had eaten about half of her pizza, picked at the rest, looking worried.

"That depends if you want to ask. I have... a thing with embarrassing myself in front of foreign waiters."

Rose sighed. “Maybe not, then. I don’t speak Italian.”

She hesitated, then picked up another slice.

“Do you think we’re wasting time here?” she said spontaneously.

"I suppose. But we do need to eat and rest."

“I spent half the day asleep. If I hadn’t been hungover, we could probably be on the hunt for Roxy right now.” Rose grimaced. “Maybe we should go after her tonight.”

"Um. I mean... We don't exactly have our equipment and I'm not exactly... emotionally prepared for this." Marigold swallowed.

“You’re never gonna be emotionally prepared. I just... look, we’ve got Interpol on our asses, right? And Azure wants us to get this done as soon as possible. We really don’t have any time to lose, don’t you think?”

Marigold glanced around the room anxiously, her eyes widening. “Are... are we really going to do this now? Oh God. Okay. Where do we even start? That casino?”

“It’s only two streets away. I noticed it on the map before. Here.” Rose pulled out the map and showed Marigold. “This is where we are. And the casino is here.”

“Oh, goodness. And so it is.” Marigold wiped at her brow and let out a nervous laugh. “Alright. Sure. If you’re so motivated, then we could certainly give it a shot. Should we go back home and fetch our equipment? Oh... I don’t even know how my tazer works...”

“Well, we probably won’t even run into her. But we can just scout out the casino. It’s good to familiarise ourselves with the battlefield before the battle starts.” Rose had a spark of fire in her eyes. “I – I don’t know, it’s probably a bad idea. But I just can’t wait any longer. We’ve been here for more than a day already. I just want to get something done, you know?”

Marigold put her cutlery down. “Okay. When you put it that way, I guess it won’t be so bad. I’ve not been inside of casino for a long time, I guess I’m somewhat nervous.”

“You got a history with casinos?”

“I had a...” Marigold coughed awkwardly. “Gambling problem.”

"Oh. I see." Rose shot her a look. "Will I need to keep an eye on you or something? Are you gonna be okay?"

"Oh, no. I doubt I'll start spending any money in there if we're just taking a peek." Marigold tried to wave the anxiety off, but her face remained tense. "I might just get a little bit overwhelmed with the noise."

"Well, we're just having a look around. I doubt we'll be staying long." Rose gave her a smile that was meant to be encouraging; she wasn't quite sure how it turned out. "Alright. Do we need a plan for this, or are we just going in?"

"We're just looking around, Rose." Marigold sighed, curling her fists. " We need to stop overthinking this."

"Okay then. Are you done with your food?"

It no longer looked as appetizing. Marigold frowned. "Yeah. It was delicious."

"Okay. Let's pay and go, then. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get out."

Marigold opened her purse and pulled out her wallet. "Alright, then. Goodness. I can't shake off this odd dread." She pointed to her stomach. "Right here. A big knot."

"Yeah," Rose said, "me too. I mean... this is real. We might see her. We probably won't but... we might."

"We could make a pact to just stay in our hotel room for the next week and say we just didn't bump into her?" Marigold offered. It was impossible to tell her level of sarcasm.

Rose raised an eyebrow.

"Are you chickening out on me?"

"It was just a suggestion."

"A bad one. I need justice. Azure needs justice. And the girl that got shot. We can't just bail on this." Rose stood up, a grim expression on her face. "Have you got everything?"

"I do. Oh, here's a waiter!"

A few minutes later, the two were outside. Marigold found her hands trembling despite the sweet, warm air that hung atop them. She suddenly found it claustrophobic to be outside.

"Which way?"

"This way, I think." Rose pointed. As they turned the corner, the bright colours of the casino became visible.

"There." Rose's voice was soft.

"There." Marigold's voice shook, just barely. "We can't be scared now."

"Who's scared?"

Rose took a bold step forwards. The casino got closer as they walked, and her heart fluttered.

Marigold looked around. The casino stood out in the quaint village, with large pillars decorating the front. The doors, large, were open enough to reveal the interior, from which music emanated.

Even the colours were taking her back. She sighed, finding it hard to properly finish her exhale. "Not me."

"Let's go, then," Rose said. She took a deep breath and stepped inside the casino.

She was immediately a little overwhelmed by the sounds, the bustle. It was busier than Rose would have expected; her eyes darted around frantically, looking for a flash of pink hair.

"Remember what we're in here for. We're just scouting. Tonight isn't for confrontation." Marigold pressed at her.

"I know. I'm just... looking." Rose couldn't tear her gaze away from the crowds. "What if she's here?"

"Then we avoid her and contact Azure immidiately."

Rose breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. "She's probably not even here. Shall we have a look around?"

"Yes." Marigold stepped forward, trying hard to avoid the set of loud, colourful slot machines. "I'll go check out the card tables."

"Okay. I assume you know how to play all of these." Rose hovered close by, trying not to get too distracted.

"I'm not here to play." Marigold shot her a scowl.

"Oh, no, I wasn't suggesting..." Rose immediately backed off. "Sorry."

Marigold didn't respond, and instead shuffled further inside the casino. She stopped to view a water feature in front of high panels of glass that seperated the section from the rest. "This is so unnecessary."

Rose barely spared it a glance. “It’s what you do when you’ve got too much money, I guess,” she said. “So... what do we do now? Scout out the place?”

"Sounds good." Marigold nodded. "I'll handle the... slots, I guess."

Rose nodded. "I might head over to the bar. ... damn, it would be useful to have Azure's equipment to communicate. Have you got your phone on you?"

"Should do. Ah, yes. But the reception is down."

"Ah, damn." Rose looked around nervously. "There's no sign of her. Maybe we should go back."

"Oh no, you brought us here. Now I'm determined." Marigold sniffed. "We're just looking around."

Rose clenched her teeth. "Fine," she said. "I'll go to the bar. Meet at the exit in... twenty minutes?"

"Sounds good." Marigold nodded, looking around. "This place gives me the willies."

"Yeah, me too. Might get something to drink just to take the edge off." Rose sighed. "I'll see you later."

"Just don't make it a repeat of last night." Marigold swore under her breath as she began to walk to a row of slots, observing the area past the entryway. She pressed through a small crowd past a table.

She realised she was having trouble breathing as she recognised the intricate game of bridge before her.

But no sign of Roxy. It was a table of men, somewhat well dressed, quieter than the more intoxicated gaggles of people.

The air felt too heavy. She envied the sparkling glasses in the room.

Rose made it to the bar and settled on one of the stools with a heavy sigh.

The bartender spoke to her in Italian, a smile on his lips.

"Uh... I'm sorry, I don't speak Italian," Rose said, suddenly feeling kind of stupid.

What are we doing here?

"Oh, okay," the bartender said in accented English. "Can I get you a drink?"

Rose definitely needed one. "Rum and coke?" she asked.

"No problemo." The bartender winked at her. "I can help you with your Italian too, if you want."

Rose blushed. "Uh, thanks, but I'm not staying long," she said. Hopefully.

The bartender clicked his tongue as he poured a cola. "Oh? Why not stay around for a while? Have you had enough of the casino noise?"

Rose’s shoulders slumped slightly.

“I’m only passing through,” she said. “I’m... here with my...” She hesitated. What was Marigold to her, now? Her boss? Colleague?

“Friend,” she decided. “And we’re looking for someone, and we’ll probably leave once we find her.”

"Oh? Anyone I could help find?" He blinked, sliding the glass over.

“Maybe,” Rose said. “We heard she comes here sometimes. About this tall, very pretty...” She blushed. “Middle aged. Possibly pink hair, though she might’ve changed it since I knew her.”

He ground to a still before picking up a glass to wipe. An anxious look appeared over his face. "Hm, yes. I may have seen someone like that around. Your friend, you said?"

"... yeah, something like that." Rose straightened up. "So you've seen her?"

"Not tonight, but yes." He looked around and leaned close. "Look, bella. I like you. Don't get mixed in with this. It's dark business."

Rose held his gaze, her heart fluttering. "What do you mean?" she said softly.

"Avoid this mafia stuff, yes?" He gave a little nod, perhaps to encourage her. "I only see one or two of her close women stick around for longer than a month. Tourist types always seem to be... excited until they learn how far it all goes."

Rose's heart sped up, and even though the bartender was cute, it wasn't because of his closeness.

Of course Roxy would get involved in the mafia. Fuck. I need to tell Marigold.

She looked around, anxiety in her belly.

"When did you last see her?"

"Last week." He looked to the casino. "She does card games usually. That's all I can let you know, I'm afraid."

Rose breathed. She could hear the blood rushing through her ears.

"Thanks," she said, "you've been very helpful. If I stick around for longer, maybe you can help me learn Italian."

Her flirtatious smile was forced. She knocked back her drink. "Could I have another one of those?"

He returned the smile, a little more relaxed. "This one is on the house."

Marigold found herself frozen in front of a selection of slot machines. They were more colourful and loud than she remembered. Some even had electronic screens and flashy gimmicks.

The coins in her pocket felt surprsingly heavy all of the sudden.

"This truly is a recovered gambler's worst nightmare," she murmured. The noise in the hall was so loud she barely heard her own sound.

One game. One game wouldn't hurt. She only had about twenty euros as cash on hand.

"One game."

Before she knew it, her fingers were placing a coin into the slot at the top of a machine slightly taller than her.

Rose had finished her drink and found herself waiting at the arranged time, itching to go. Her conversation with the bartender had left her with a deep pit of dread in her stomach, and she didn't want to stay.

After a few minutes, she made her way to the slot machines, where she saw Marigold and quickly made her way over to her.

"Marigold," she said, "we need to go."

Marigold nearly jumped. She didn't, however, turn around. "Alright. Sure. Just a couple of minutes. Did you check the whole perimiter?"

"No, but we need to go. I talked to the bartender, and he says she's in the mafia, Marigold." Rose took a moment to breathe. "God, you got stuck at the slots, didn't you?"

Marigold turned to look at her, eyes wide. The purse in her hand was nearly empty. "Oh, good Lord! Is she here tonight?"

“No. But I don’t feel safe here. We need to go back and let Azure know. And get our stuff. I don’t want to encounter her without any of our gear.”

Marigold huffed. "Get a grip, Rose. If she's not here, she's not here. But fine, you make a good point. I've only got a coin left, anyway. One last game and we can head back."

“Okay. Fine. I need to pee anyway. Serves me right for drinking, I guess. Do you know where the toilets are?”

"Oh! I think I saw a sign just past that odd fountain, past the front."

“Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”

As Rose walked through the casino, she had to force herself to walk slowly. She deliberately didn’t look at the faces in the crowd.

She’s not here. She isn’t here, so stop stressing. This is bad for your heart.

She found the bathroom after a few minutes of searching, and once the stall door shut behind her, she let out a deep breath that she hadn’t realised she was holding.

It’s okay. I’ll be out of here soon. We’ll leave and regroup and tell Azure and then, when we actually see Roxy, we’ll be prepared.

And then, almost as an afterthought: I hope Marigold is okay.

The door to the bathroom opened, and several other women came in, chatting in fast, hushed Italian.

Rose ignored them. They were probably just here to enjoy their evening. There was no need to get suspicious. She's not here.

She took a deep breath, and then another. She'd finished her business on the toilet. It was time to go find Marigold and return to their hotel.

A faucet was rushing. A figure in a suit before Rose was washing her hands, her hair silvery from the back. The suit was well fitted, pinstripe.

Rose stepped towards the sinks and washed her hands, not looking at the other woman, lost in her thoughts.

The woman turned to face her.

A little yelp of surprise echoed in the bathroom.

And then silence.

And Rose finally turned, acknowledging the woman next to her.

Her mind went completely blank in shock, and for a moment that felt like eternity, she only stared.

She’s here.

#steven universe #su fanfic #su yellow diamond #su rose quartz #su pearl #greg universe #su pink diamond #su human au #educating the victim #etv act 6 #illustrated #animated #sfw

13 notes · View notes

sabraeal · 7 years

Note

would you consider doing Obi's POV for Drink Deep of Lethe? If it's too long, then any part from it? Thank you.

Nanaki knows what they say about these woods.

It’s haunted, they say in Clarines, voices dropped low. Young maids go there to die of broken hearts, and they haunt the trees. Walk careful, lest they think to curl up in your arms and take yours instead.

It’s rife with fey, they say in Tanbarun, pressing thumb and forefinger to ward their words, pretty things to lure young men to its heart. They feast every night, flush with human flesh.

But it is in Sama where they stare, where they shake their heads at the superstition of their neighbors. There’s no beast in there, they say frankly, it is the woods itself. It hungers. It hungers.

What a coincidence, he thinks as he sets tinder alight, so does he.

He’s forgotten how much it hurts to get shot.

The arrow’s broken off as close to his flesh as he can get it; it’s not through-and-though, and he’s not dumb enough to try to push it through sight unseen. He’ll have to get a chirurgeon to look at it, a discreet one, once he makes it to a city. Until then there’s not much else he can do besides stitch it up, bandage it, and let it bleed every time he moves it. The head is small, pointed instead of a broad-head – professional courtesy they’d no doubt call it – but it grinds against his collarbone every time he moves his shoulder much more than an inch.

It could be worse he knows. It could be buried in his left side, and then he wouldn’t even have to worry about being uncomfortable. He never thought he’d be thinking it, but thank the gods Nobu is such a dumb fuck.

He hopes he’s a suspicious fuck too; he’s banking on the wood’s reputation to keep any of his old underground buddies from coming much further than the treeline. Maybe, if he’s lucky, they’ll have given him up for dead, eaten by trees or fey or vengeful virgin.

When he’s finally able to sit his ass down for more than a moment, his first bandage is already soaked through, not doing much besides being a pop of color on his otherwise monochromatic attire. He grits his teeth, hissing when he peels the linen off where it’s stuck to the wound, causing another spurt of dark, sluggish blood to seep out of the gash.

He’s hoping that’s a good sign.

When it lands on the fire it smolders for a long moment, sending up a thick plume of smoke; Nanaki bites the flesh of his cheek, dismayed. A little visibility is a small price to pay for leaving nothing behind.

Nanaki laughs at that while he wraps the new bandage. He’ll have to get rid of other things too, starting with this name. He wonders who he’ll be this time.

His dinner is the dried beef in his pack along with a tasteless bar of nuts and berries. He’d learned to make them as a child, rolling up dates and nuts and locusts into thin rice-paper and letting them bake in the sun. Food was sustenance then, a fuel to keep his fire stoked. Now he’s used to slightly more savory fare, and the meal is unpleasant as it is unsatisfying.

That with the pain in his shoulder makes him cross, irritable. He takes out his knives, bracing his whetstone with his right arm, and hopes the simple act of honing them calms him. It’s good there’s no chance of crossing anyone’s path, at least no one that he wouldn’t be killing anyway; he doesn’t like to think what he might do.

Twigs snap underfoot, far too close to his camp. Despite his earlier derision of the wood’s reputation, his first thought is that she is fey, come to tempt him into her barrow. She’s slight and small, a pale little thing visible even in the moonlight. When she steps into the light of the fire her hair blazes like a morning sky, and he’s certain that when she turns he’ll see her cow’s tail, see how her back falls away like a hollowed out tree.

It irritates him to find that he’s so tempted regardless, that he’d follow her down into the depths of the earth to see what treasures she might show him.

“Oh!” She shies at the edge of his camp, her satchel clanking heavily at her hip. “I didn’t – I’m sorry.”

Her voice is so light, so uncertain. She plays her part well, a pretty little flush staining her cheeks, but he’s seen this song and dance before. Torou might not have excelled at the part of an ingenue, but he’d once seen a woman ten years his senior pass for a child. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine another could pass as a pretty, wide-eyed innocent.

“Sorry for what, Miss?” He keeps his voice light, casual. Best not to let on that he suspects. He angles his body away from her; it would be an even worse mistake to let her know he was wounded. “Happy accidents happen all the time.”

“I–I didn’t mean to bother you,” she presses on, hands disappearing into her skirts. It’s where her knives are hidden, probably. Poisoned too, if he knows the look of that bag. He’s almost disappointed that they sent him this sort of trap.

Her eyelashes flutter. “I just saw your fire, and I thought…”

He’s more annoyed that he’s so close to falling for it. Gods, this girl is good. He’d almost think her some lost miss, if he didn’t see the way her body is tensed, ready for a fight.

“I’m surprised you found me.” He lifts a blade, making a great show of inspecting its edge. Lets her know he too is ready, that he won’t go down easy. “Me being so deep in the wood and all. Didn’t think anyone would just…stumble in.”

It was smart of them to send in a girl; not like any man would take his chances with virgin ghosts and man-eating fey unless there were pay involved. If he were any other kind of man he’d be disarmed, especially with those wide eyes and that sweet face.

“I’m lost.” Their eyes meet across the fire, and he’s not surprised to see affront, to see shock. She’s good enough that he doubts many laymen see through her tricks.

She’s playing her part to the hilt. He doesn’t believe her, not for a second, but it confuses him how committed to the ruse she is, makes him uncomfortable. His shoulder aches from being held tense, from flint grinding into bone, but also from something deeper, something older, and he lifts a hand to ease it.

“Well,” she backpedals. Ah yes, here is where it will fall apart. “Not – not exactly. I don’t really have a, ah destination in mind. I left Tanbarun and I…”

Her words fall away, leaving her to stare at her feel.

“Hm.” So that’s her game now. A backstory.“A sweet miss like you all the way out in the deep wood?” He grins. He’ll play her game. “You must be real lost.”

“I’ve been here before.” She’s getting agitated now, her cheeks flushing angrily. Its so vivid against her skin that it looks like she’s been slapped. “I collect plants –”

“You collect plants.” It takes all his vocal training to keep the incredulity out of his voice. Where did they find this girl? He’s almost ready to revise his opinion of her skills if she’s going to say she’s picked flowers here.

“I run – I ran an apothecary –”

“You’re a shopgirl.” He can’t believe this. She wants him to believe a shopgirl wandered deep into a fey-filled woods, because she picks flowers. He’s insulted at this point, really. “That’s your story?”

“Yes!” She had no right to be so aggravated with him, if this is the sort of half-baked piece of fiction she’s come up with. Honestly, show a little professional courtesy.

“A shopgirl.” he can’t help but laugh. “How far from home you must be. How alone you must be, Miss.” It’s time to end this. “How scared.”

Her hand goes for her side – the satchel or a blade, it doesn’t matter – and he is on her in a second. He may be wounded, but pain is just a thought, and he’s learned not to think when his life is on the line.

She’s in his arms in a moment, and he feels her body, so much stronger than a shopgirl; the way that beneath the sleek curve of her skin she is all wiry muscle, a dangerous foe. It’s too bad she’s not fast enough; he bets she would be a good scrap on an even field.

Too bad it’s his personal policy to never fight fair.

His shoulder twinges where he holds the blade to her throat. Or maybe it’s a good thing. Now isn’t the time to get cocky.

“You’d think they’d send a better liar,” he says, trying to sound dangerous rather than offended, which what he is. “I mean, a shopgirl?”

“I am a shopgirl,” she insists, struggling against him. She’s strangely soft for what she is; he almost finds it enjoyable the way her body fits against his. “No one sent me.”

“I’m really supposed to believe you just happened through, Miss?” Its insulting to try to keep up this thin ruse when she’s been so thoroughly caught. He presses the knife closer, a bead of her blood running along the edge of his blade. “Who sent you?”

“No one.” He can hardly hear the words through her teeth. That’s right, give up the charade. No one is being fooled by this game.

“I’ll make it quick if you tell me,” he offers, though he’s so tempted to not, not after this little show. That would teach them to send someone serious at least.

“I already said,” she growls, “no one sent me.”

He’s not expecting it; retaliation yes, but not – there’s no blades, no poison. She just stops on his foot like some sort of amateur, and that’s what gets him, what makes his grip loosen and –

Her hand slaps down, hitting him right on the nerve and making his hand go boneless, dropping the knife –

“Wha –?” he breathes, but it’s too late. Her small fingers grip him and then he is, for a brief second, weightless as his body arcs over hers; his world somersaulting past as she throws him over her hip and to the ground.

The landing drives the breath from him, leaves him a grasping, wretched mess. His shoulder throbs and he can feel a gush of blood soaking the bandage. He hopes it hasn’t hit anything too important, that if he survives all this he’ll still have the use of that arm, but all of this is feeling like a lot of guesswork when she looms over him, smile canting her lips.

He knew it; she was always a predator.

“I need this,” she says, clever fingers plucking the scarf from his neck. He can only stare as she presses it to her face, lobbing a handful of herbs onto the fire and – and –

It’s Lethe, he realizes, still gasping for breath. He grabs for her, trying to pull her back to him, but his hands are already numb, already slow. She slaps at his shoulder, hitting him right on his wound, and he keels over, groaning into the earth.

He feels it taking hold – gods, how much did she have? – but he keeps struggling to stand, struggling to move, trying to get at that scarf.

Against all better judgement, she steps towards him.

“Are you injured?” she asks, and he’s too confused to answer, too confused to to anything but glare balefully as he drops to his knees. He doesn’t even feel the pain of his shoulder hitting the ground.

Thank the gods for small favors.

She hasn’t killed him yet, but she hasn’t left. A minute passes. Two.

She crouches beside him, brow furrowed. Her hand comes out, and for a moment he’s convince that’s it, that he’s done for, but – but –

She pulls the cloth from his shoulder, baring his hastily stitched wound. Not his best work.

The girl drops to her knees then, bending to look him in the eyes. He doesn’t know how he never noticed how green hers are, dark like the forest itself.

“I can help you.”

#anonymous #obiyuki #drink deep of lethe #100 days of obiyuki (and more)#my fic #ans #obi meets shirayuki first au #man anon i wanted to do the whole thing #but this got long #one day i will do the last scene #but i hope you are happy with this!

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