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ilguna · 1 year

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☼ deadly pt1 (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; you and Johanna join the star squad to invade the capitol.

warnings; swearing, death, death mention, gun use and mention, gore, blood, classic hunger games stuff.

wc; 6k

part two, part three, part four.

–

“Johanna Mason, report for assessment.”

You turn, grabbing her hand before she has a chance to get up and go. She’s expressionless, but you can feel the anxiety radiating off of her. If District Thirteen is going to be targeting your weaknesses during the test, you have a pretty good idea on what they might do to Johanna.

“Remember, deep breaths.” You squeeze her hand, “You’ll want to freak out, but you can hold it in. You’re in control.”

“I know.” She says, a small smile at the corners of her lips, “I’ll see you on the other side.” She leans over, holding your face to give you a quick kiss.

You let go of her hand, allowing her to head into the back room. As soon as she disappears, you take a deep breath. You know that she’s able to do this, Johanna’s brave and she’ll power through, no matter how uncomfortable she is. She’s passed all the other tests up until this point too, but that was lightwork. If what Katniss heard is true, then there’s more in store for her.

District Thirteen will target what happened in the Capitol, and it’s a very touchy subject for Johanna. She’ll talk about it to you, because she knows that you’re there to support her. With Finnick, it’s a whole new ordeal. She’ll talk about it in bits and pieces, she just won’t go into detail about it. And Finnick is her best friend.

You rub your hands together, leaning forward, counting down the time until it’s your turn to go inside of the Block. It’s a stage set up to look like the streets of the Capitol, it’s pretty big and it’s as accurate as it can get. You’ve been through the Block already for the group training, but you never really had a chance to take a look around. You were too worried about your teammates and what they were doing.

This time, you won’t get much of a chance either. You’re all going in by yourselves to allow the analyzers a real chance at seeing how you work. Which means you’ll have to be on your toes the entire time, there won’t be any opportunity to stand and admire the area.

Another name is called, you watch as he goes through the door and it shuts behind him. There’s no specific order they’re taking people, you could be here a while. In the meantime, you take deep breaths and try to calm the electricity you’re feeling in your fingertips, anxious to get it over and done with.

The time ticks away, you can hear as Katniss occasionally adjusts on her seat. You can imagine she’s more worried than you are. She’s expected to perform well, she’s got the whole country looking at her. As for you, you’re a little rusty on the whole survival thing, considering Johanna volunteered for you at the reaping to keep you safe.

You were mad at her for it, because you wish you could’ve been able to protect her from the Capitol. She’s more outspoken than you are in some areas, and you’re sure they would’ve thought you were useless compared to her. You settled for being her mentor in the Capitol, and got lucky that Haymitch grabbed you before he left with Plutarch.

You remember sitting in that hovercraft, waiting for them to grab Johanna and Peeta, and then watching the doors shut. The urge to throw up and scream at the same time, because you were leaving her behind. You managed to allow Haymitch to explain himself, saying that she’ll be okay, but you knew better. The Capitol would have a field day with her.

You thought, at the very least, that Finnick would be able to help you get through the next few weeks without her. Or that you’d bond in some was with Katniss because Peeta was also in the Capitol, but it didn’t happen. Finnick might as well have been in a coma, because he was never awake longer for five minutes because of his depression with Annie. And Katniss was losing it herself.

You were left with Beetee in the armory, watching him create new gadgets for District Thirteen to use on the Capitol. Coin started by giving you a schedule to follow, she stopped as soon as she realized that you weren’t in the capacity to follow it by any means. You tried, you really did. You were just so slow when it came to moving to do things, showing up late, low effort. She eventually allowed you to sit with Beetee, hoping that some of the life would return to you.

It didn’t, not until they had gone to rescue the half of the victors that they left to be captured. That’s when everyone really came to life, because you’d be able to see your other half. You tried to volunteer to go and be part of the rescue team, but you were denied because of your behavior before, afraid that you’d drag the team down. Instead, you were left to sit in that room with Finnick and Katniss, awaiting the return of your Johanna.

You have her back now, and that’s all that matters anymore.

“(Y/n) (L/n), report for individual assessment.”

“Good luck.” Katniss breathes.

“You too.”

You get up from where you sit, heading toward the door with your head raised. The door opens just wide enough for you to fit through, and shuts automatically. You can hear the lock turn and bolt once it’s against the doorframe. You take one last deep breath, before gathering your supplies and stepping past the line on the floor to get started.

Immediately, your squadron leader, who is nothing but a voice in your earpiece, tells you that you and your squad are looking for surrendering Capitol citizens. You’re instructed to only take in those who can tell you the code that was given over the radio. If they can’t, you have to leave them behind.

It’s pretty simple and straightforward. You navigate the streets with ease, remembering the path you took before to get to the exit. On the way, you’re caught by peacekeepers several times, and manage to escape unscathed each time. There’s a few survivors out, and you accept a few and turn down others. They’re dressed in regular District Thirteen clothes, you were kinda hoping they’d look like the Capitol citizens.

You were sure that you’d suck by yourself, since you relied on your teammates to tell you when a threat was coming up. A few of them would step on landmines, or forget to put on their gas masks. You barely got through those, so when you got the recommendation to go through this—the official test—you thought it would be a mistake.

You jump in the air when an explosion shakes the ground. You round the corner, trying to figure out the point of the blast, and find the alleyway filled with smoke. You duck behind the wall, watching and waiting to see if it’ll clear, but when it doesn’t, you realize that you’re meant to go through the smoke.

To be safe, you pull your gas mask over your face before heading into the cloud, being wary of where you step, looking for the threat. Halfway, you met with someone laying on the ground. You aim your gun at him for a minute, but when he lifts his head, you see that he’s got the mark of your squad on his clothes.

“Help me.” He wheezes, “Please.”

There’s a pool of blood underneath him, and you can see that his vest is missing, he’s been shot several times between his chest and abdomen.

“Where’s your vest?” You ask, lowering the gun and getting to your knees, “You’re not supposed to take it off.”

“I gave it to a child, she led me to…” He winces, letting out a strangled noise, “Please take me with you.”

Right as you’re about to help, the voice in your ear calmly tells you to leave him behind, it’s not safe to take him. Your face twists, shaking your head, going to unbuckle your backpack, when your fingers freeze in place. You press your lips together. This is your test.

You save people, you’ve been saving people since you were reaped for your Games. It’s a curse that’s been running through your family for years. If you can help, then you do, because it’s what's saved your family several times over. It's what makes you trustworthy and hardworking, and it pays off. It’s the reason why you’re still alive, because you saved someone in the arena, and in turn they sacrificed their life for yours.

You force your hands to let go of the buckle, shaking your head, “I can’t.”

“Please, no, please don’t go!” He begins to shout, “Don’t go! Take me with you!”

You get to your feet, prepping the gun in your hand again, knowing that his pleas are drawing attention to your position. And sure enough, as soon as you make it out of the smoke, you see just how many peacekeepers were coming for you. And in them is a little girl, soot wiped across her face, big eyes. She’s wearing the bulletproof vest, and she has a gun in her hand.

You escape the area, and make it to the other side of the Block with little to no complications. The door is unlocked, you swing it open and step out, and you’re met with congratulations. The soldier grabs your hand, and stamps the back of it, telling you to go to Command.

You take off the vest and gun, setting it in a pile with the rest of the armor. After, you make your way to Command, where Plutarch and Beetee hang out the most often. On the way, you ball your hands into fists, trying to tell yourself that helping others isn’t a weakness, even if they think so.

By the time you reach Command, you’re feeling a little better. When you walk inside, you’re met with several familiar faces, including Johanna and Finnick. They give you a big smile, but when Johanna opens her arms, you hug her tightly. Her breath is shaky in your ear.

You pull away, “Did they use it against you?”

She tilts her head at you, “Guess.”

“You made it through, though.” You touch her face.

“Barely.”

“It’s already a big step.” You tell her, “I’m proud of you.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and then Finnick clears his throat, “So what’d they use against you?”

“Kindness.” You say, and don’t elaborate further.

It’s not long after when Katniss is entering the room. She’s got a smile on her face when she sees you standing around the table. With her being the last member, Plutarch launches into a speech on what you’ll be encountering in the Capitol. He presses a button and a holograph of a part of the Capitol projects, allowing you to see better.

“This, for example, is the area surrounding one of the Peacekeepers’ barracks. Not unimportant, but not the most crucial of targets, and yet look.” Plutarch enters a code, and flashing colors appear, “Each light is called a pod. It represents a different obstacle, the nature of which could be anything from a bomb to a band of mutts. Make no mistake, whatever it contains is designed to either trap or kill you. Some have been in place since the Dark days, others developed over the years. To be honest, I created a fair number myself. This program, which one of our people absconded with when we left the Capitol is our most recent information. They won’t know we have it. But even so, it’s likely that new pods have been activated in the last few months. This is what you will face.”

Silence comes over the room, you can’t find any words to speak. You’re expected to go into the Capitol and be surrounded by traps that could kill you if Snow designed it to. Katniss is the first to move forward, stopping in front of the projection. As if possessed, you, Johanna and Finnick end up next to her, seeing just how many of those pods there are. Katniss cups a rapidly flashing green one in her hands.

Johanna might have saved you from the Quarter Quell, but this will be a whole new nightmare. There’s a hundred of them on this projection alone, which means there are thousands inside of the city that you’ll be navigating through. And hundreds more that are not yet part of the technology.

Finnick reaches out to touch a red one, “Ladies and gentlemen…” he murmurs.

“Let the Seventy-sixth Hunger Games begin!” Katniss shouts, and then a laugh comes from her after.

You are not laughing, though. The look you share with Johanna is full of worry and nausea. You can see her retreating, the idea of getting captured and the possibilities of what they’ll do to her this time is endless. You don’t think she should go, as much as she wants to.

“I don’t even know why you bothered to put us victor’s through training, Plutarch.” Katniss says.

“Yeah, we’re already the four best-equipped soldiers you have.” Finnick adds with a grin.

“Do not think that fact escapes me,” He waves his hand, “Now back in line, Soldiers. I have a presentation to finish.”

The four of you resume where you were standing before you moved. Plutarch continues talking about the pods. There’s a point where it zooms out from one block, allowing you to see several more. Too many pods take over the screen, you grit your teeth, thinking about how many people they’ll be sending into the Capitol. How many of them are going to die? Are they going to have this technology too? Or are they going to go in blind?

The meeting finishes, and you’re allowed to leave. You grab Johanna’s hand, and she squeezes hard. The two of you wait in the hallway for Katniss and Finnick, who look just as terrified as you feel.

“What will I tell Annie?” Finnick whispers.

“Nothing,” Katniss says. “That’s what my mother and sister will be hearing from me.”

“If she sees that holograph—” He begins.

“She won’t.” Johanna shakes her head, “It’s classified information. It has to be.”

“Anyway, it’s not like an actual Games.” Katniss says, “Any number of people will survive. We’re just overreacting because—well, you know why. You still want to go, don’t you?”

“Of course. I want to destroy Snow as much as you do.” Finnick says, two pairs of eyes go between you and Johanna.

You don’t want Johanna to go in there, and you don’t want to go either, for that matter. It’s too dangerous, and you just survived the Capitol. The last thing you want is to throw yourself into another round of danger. This time is worse than the last, because it’s unpredictable.

“Well, obviously.” Johanna says. You know that’s her speaking, and not some facade that she’s putting up. Her hatred for the man has only grown since her time in the Capitol.

Now it’s your turn. You force a smile, “Let’s give him what he deserves.”

Katniss nods firmly, “It won’t be like the others. This time Snow will be a player, too.”

Haymitch comes to talk after that, and confirms that he and Beetee will stay here in District Thirteen, while the rest of you go out there. You want to tell him that it’s unfair that he’ll be here safe and sound, while the rest of you go out there, but decide that’s a fight for someone else.

Katniss leaves to go outside during her reflection, Finnick goes to see Annie, and then you’re left there standing with Johanna.

“We’re screwed, aren’t we?” You ask.

She smiles, “You know it, babe.”

—

The next few days are nothing but a blur that you try to keep a grasp on. You’re constantly in the armory, training in the shooting range to make sure that you have a grasp on the gun you’ll be using outside. For an hour a day, you get to use the specialty weapons that Beetee’s designed for each of you.

For Katniss it’s her bow with explosive arrows, with Finnick it’s his throwable trident that returns to his hand if he presses a button on his cuff. You and Johanna have a similar design with axes, blades sharp but the weapon is light.

You’ve also learned about the people you’ll be going in with. Boggs is the man that Katniss seems to be pretty close with already. He’ll be your guide and command in the Capitol. His second is Jackson, a middle-aged woman that does wonders with a scope. There’s the Leeg sisters, who are twins and nearly impossible to tell apart, they’re around the same age as you, Johanna and Finnick. Then there’s Mitchell and Homes, they’re older but their sharpshooting skills are up there with Jackson.

This morning, Plutarch joins you, “Squad Four-Five-One, you have been selected for a special mission,” he begins. “We have numerous sharpshooters, but rather a dearth of camera crews. Therefore, we’ve handpicked the ten of you to be what we call our ‘Star Squad.’ You will be the on-screen faces of the invasion.”

The relief that goes through you is comforting. You will still be in danger in the Capitol, but it should be less than before. However, you think you’re the only one that feels this way.

“What you’re saying is, we won’t be in actual combat.” Gale snaps. He’s Katniss’ friend from District Twelve, something about them hunting every week together to feed their families. They’re close.

“You will be in combat, but perhaps not always on the front line. If one can even isolate a front line in this type of war.” Plutarch says.

“None of us wants that.” Finnick remarks, a few people agree, “We’re going to fight.”

“You’re going to be as useful to the war effort as possible,” Plutarch says, not worried about their feelings. “And it’s been decided that you are of most value on television. Just look at the effect Katniss had running around in that Mockingjay suit. Turned the whole rebellion around. Do you notice how she’s the only one not complaining? It’s because she understands the power of that screen.”

Your mouth twitches.

“But it’s not all pretend, is it?” Katniss asks. “That’d be a waste of talent.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of real targets to hit. But don’t get blown up. I’ve got enough on my plate without having to replace you. Now get to the Capitol and put on a good show.”

The morning you ship out, you manage to convince them to let you outside in the woods for a little bit to get some fresh air. Johanna’s too busy talking to Finnick and Annie for her to notice your absence, and you’re glad because you need some time alone with your thoughts.

One deep breath, and you’re sent back in time, before you left District Seven to go to the Capitol for the Quarter Quell. This is what you needed the entire time you’ve been here, instead of breathing recycled air in the cement tomb. You need the woods, more than Katniss does, because this is your home.

You wander around for a while, before crouching next to a tree, picking at the bark slightly. You want the Capitol to go smoothly. For once in your life, you want things to go smoothly without any hiccups. You need Johanna to stay safe, and you need your friends to stay alive. You can’t lose anymore people.

You’ll do whatever it takes.

You spend a good thirty minutes out there, before the guards come to retrieve you to leave on the hovercraft. When Johanna asks you where you went, you tell her that you cleared your mind so that this would be easier for you. You can’t be worried about anything if you’re going to do this.

The hovercraft takes you to District Twelve, where Katniss and Gale are stiff as boards the entire time you’re out there. She manages to tell you that you’re outside of the bombed area, and you should be glad that you’re not inside of it. You pay your respects as close to the border as you can before going back to the cargo car.

In there, you’re packed like sardines with other soldiers, who sleep with their heads on their packs. You spend a few days there while they bring you to one of the mountain tunnels that lead to the Capitol. As soon as you’re there, you’re forced to make the rest of the trip on foot, which is a six hour walk, only allowed to walk on the green paint that marks safe passage.

On the other side is the rebel camp, a ten block radius that’s crawling with soldiers. The rebels pushed the peacekeepers out a week ago, losing hundreds of soldiers but they made this area safe to set base. Your squad is led to an area that’s reserved for you, and there you pitch your tents to spend the night.

You meet Katniss’ camera crew, they’re nice but only grow a group that’ll already draw a lot of attention. For three days, you mill around the streets of the Capitol and do meaningless tasks for them to film to show the Capitol and the districts. None of the real work is handed to you, Katniss, Finnick or Johanna. It’s all saved for the qualified soldiers.

The streets have mostly been cleared of pods, because you’re trailing after the soldiers that have gone before you. The paper maps are interesting to look at, but you get bored of the grid quickly. You’ve been on the streets before, but this is entirely too far out. Victor’s are given free reign towards the heart, where the Tribute Center is. The maps don’t show the pods, either.

The only device that does is held by Boggs, since he’s the commander. And it’s unusable unless his voice activates it. It’s called a Holo. It’s fairly interesting to see the blocks you’ve traveled and the pods that were nearby but you never tripped. You’re clueless without it.

On the fourth day, one of the Leeg sisters hits a pod by accident, and it’s mislabeled as well. You’re prepared for a swarm of mutated gnats, but instead it shoots out a sunburnt of metal darts. One of which finds her brain, which kills her before the medics can get to you.

Plutarch promises a replacement.

The next evening, you’re met with Peeta. You haven’t officially met him yet, since there was no need to before. He’s standing in front of you, no handcuffs or guards to keep him in check, and he’s got a gun slung over his shoulder. With his reaction to Katniss that first day he was in District Thirteen, Boggs takes the gun as soon as he’s close enough, and goes to make a call.

“It won’t matter.” Peeta says unbothered, “The president assigned me herself. She decided the propos needed some heating up.”

When Boggs comes back, he’s fuming. The first thing he does is tell Jackson that she needs to organize a two-person, round-the-clock guard on Peeta. Then he takes Katniss to the other side of camp to talk to her privately.

Jackson looks between the group of you, thinking about her choices. When she doesn’t immediately choose, you lift your hand, catching her attention, “What is it, Soldier (L/n)?”

“I’ll do it, for however long you like.”

“Me too.” Finnick says, “You can put us on together.”

“Then who am I going to be with?” Johanna asks, face twisting, “Since when are you two best friends?”

“You haven’t noticed?” You muse.

Jackson nods, “Okay, we’ll have you and Finnick take first shift, then you and Johanna can take second. We’ll break you and do…” she continues, but you stop paying attention unless your name is mentioned.

Peeta looks up at you, eyes fairly aggressive, looking you up and down to size you as an opponent. If he thinks of doing anything funny, he’ll be in for a surprise. You’re doing this because he needs good people to surround himself with to remind him that not everyone's the same. There is variety.

By the time Katniss comes back, the rotation’s been made, and she isn’t a part of it. Peeta’s pitching his tent next to Jackson and Boggs’ so they can keep a better eye on him. Right on cue, Katniss asks, “What time is my watch?”

Jackson squints at her, “I didn’t put you in the rotation.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not sure you could really shoot Peeta, if it came to it.”

Katniss pauses for half a second, before loudly saying, “I wouldn’t be shooting Peeta. He’s gone. Johanna’s right. It’d be just like shooting another one of the Capitol’s mutts.”

You send Johanna a concerned look, she shakes her head slightly, “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, that sort of comment isn’t recommending you either.” Jackson says.

“Put her in the rotation.” Boggs says.

“Midnight to four. You’re on with me.” Jackson shakes her head, writing it down.

When the dinner whistle is blown, you start your way over with your victor friends, with the exception of Katniss, who is suspiciously close to Gale, whispering. She’s replaced by Peeta, who’s definitely not really absorbing his surroundings. Regardless, you turn to him.

“I’m (Y/n).” You hold out your hand, “I’m from District Seven, I won the year after Johanna did.”

“Nice to meet you.” He takes your hand, shaking it once before letting it go.

“That cake you made for Finnick and Annie’s wedding was gorgeous. Do you paint often?” You ask.

“When I have the time.” He shrugs.

“Oh, that’s right.” You smile, “That was your talent for the Victory Tour, wasn’t it? After years of cake icing I’m sure it paid off. I couldn’t think of a single thing worth showing for mine. I almost named every tree in alphabetical order just for the kick of it.”

Peeta cracks a smile, “That would’ve been entertaining.”

“She had a song and everything.” Johanna sighs, “It was truly insufferable.”

Finnick’s face twists, looking at you, “You have never told me that before.”

“That’s because I have shame, Finnick.” You snort, they laugh too. Peeta shakes his head with a smile.

Your squad gathers in a circle to eat dinner. You keep small talk going with Peeta, trying to form some friendship. The looks you get from Katniss and Gale are no less than hostile because of it. You’re not sure what they want you to do. You’re not going to shut him out, this easily could’ve been how Johanna turned out. It would've been if she weren’t so strong.

By the time you’re exhausted and ready to go to bed, you and Peeta are on some level of understanding. You go to bed with Johanna in the tent, huddled up in your own sleeping bags. It’s much too cold for you to fall asleep, even though Johanna passes out without struggle. You only lay there for another half hour before you unzip it and settle it over Johanna.

You leave the tent and go to sit at the center of camp, where the heater’s going to be much more enjoyable than shivering. You sit as close as humanly possible, rubbing your arms. Jackson and Katniss are already out here to watch Peeta, who’s fiddling with a rope that Finnick must’ve given him.

Peeta breaks the silence, “These last couple of years must have been exhausting for you. Trying to decide whether to kill me or not. Back and forth. Back and forth.”

Katniss doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “I never wanted to kill you. Except when I thought you were helping the Careers kill me. After that, I always thought of you as an ally.”

“Ally.” Peeta repeats slowly. “Friend. Lover. Victor. Enemy. FIancee. Target. Mutt. Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute. Ally. I’ll add it to the list of words I use to try to figure you out. The problem is, I can’t tell what's real anymore, and what’s made up.”

Peeta’s accidentally disturbed the fragile serenity in the camp, because you can hear a few people stir in their tents. Either they’re light sleepers or they haven't been sleeping, and they’re stuck in the same miserable loop you were in.

Finnick speaks from his sleeping bag in the shadow of a tent, “Then you should ask, Peeta. That’s what Annie does.”

“Ask who?” Peeta says. “Who can I trust?”

“Well, us for starters. We’re your squad.” Jackson says.

“You’re my guards.” He says.

“That, too.” She agrees. “But you saved a lot of lives in Thirteen. It’s not the kind of thing we forget.”

The air settles. Peeta does not speak again for a long while. You finally begin to feel drowsy in front of the heat. You lean into your backpack, eyes closed and basking in the warmth.

“Your favorite color… it’s green?” Peeta asks carefully.

“That’s right.” Katniss says. “And yours is orange.”

“Orange?” He asks.

“Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset.” She says, “At least, that’s what you told me once.”

“Oh.” He says, “Thank you.”

“You’re a painter. You’re a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces.” Katniss says suddenly, and then she gets up and leaves.

You fall asleep by the fire, waking every hour to stretch your back from the hunched position you’re in. Johanna wakes you around nine, moving the hair out of your face to tell you that she, Gale, Finnick and Katniss are going to go film for a bit and you’re invited to go with them. You agree, brushing your teeth and fixing your hair before following them into the street.

You and Finnick fill her in from last night. She nods, remarking how it’s a step in the right direction. At least they’re talking to each other.

Back at camp, the squad is sitting in a group together talking to Peeta. There’s no tension, you and Johanna take a seat with them. Finnick criss-crosses his legs, and Katniss and Gale stand nearby. They tell you that they’ve been playing a game with Peeta called ‘Real or Not Real’ where he recalls events and they tell him if it happened or not.

“Most of the people from Twelve were killed in the fire.” Peeta says.

“Real. Less than nine hundred of you made it to Thirteen alive.”

“The fire was my fault.”

“Not real. President Snow destroyed twelve the way he did Thirteen, to send a message to the rebels.”

The game allows Jackson to break you into a completely new watch, where you’re no longer paired with Johanna or Finnick, but with one of the soldiers. Everyone holds their advantages when it comes to talking to Peeta. Gale fills him in on most of the technical stuff about District Twelve. You and Finnick talk about his first Games, since you both mentored that one, and Johanna and Finnick talk about the second since they were both a tribute.

You also help out Katniss with some of the superficial details. He’ll ask about the colors of her dress in certain districts, the jewelry she was wearing, what she said during a speech. All of which you have nailed down, since you’ve always been fascinated about how stylists and escorts change their theme with each new victor. You can’t be much help in regards to her food preferences and who she is back home, so she’s forced to work on that by herself.

The next afternoon, you’re all told you need to stage a more complicated propo for District Thirteen to edit. They’re unhappy with the quality they’ve been getting lately, and they want something that’ll draw in more attention, as if that’s even possible. A special block is set aside, none of the traps set off to allow some action. It’s a residential block, lined with apartments.

The pods inside are marked as gunfire and nets to capture, so you’re all told to gear up as if you’re heading into actual war. You’re allowed to take your specialty weapons with you. You swing the axe in your hand, wondering how good it would do in battle if you had to. Peeta is given back his gun, but it’s full of blanks so it can’t do any actual damage.

Peeta shrugs, “I'm not much of a shot anyway.”

The camera crew goes over a number of things they’re going to use to make the action sequence more interesting. They’re planning to use smoke bombs and adding gunfire to make it seem like you’re doing something. You joke with Johanna and Finnick that it would be less work for them if they actually did something with you guys instead.

Peeta’s fairly preoccupied with one of the camera crew members. They’re all from the Capitol, so they’ve got funny mannerisms, but he’s got his eye on Pollux. His eyebrows are twitching at one point, and you elbow Finnick to get his attention, hoping he’ll be able to talk to Peeta without a reaction.

Finnick opens his mouth to speak, when Peeta’s harsh voice comes through, “You’re an Avox, aren’t you? I can tell by the way you swallow. There were two Avoxes with me in prison. Darius and Lavinia, but the guards mostly called them the redheads. They’d been our servants in the Training Center, so they arrested them, too. I watched them being tortured to death. She was lucky. They used too much voltage and her heart stopped right off. It took days to finish him off. Being, cutting off parts. They kept asking him questions, but he couldn’t speak, he just made these horrible animal sounds. They didn’t want information, you know? They wanted me to see it.”

There’s a stunned silence as you all stop walking, staring at him. He watches you guys, “Real or not real?” No one answers him, so he snaps, “Real or not real?!”

“Real,” Bogg says, “At least, to the best of my knowledge… real.”

“I thought so.” His shoulders sag, “There was nothing… shiny about it.”

He wanders off, Katniss turns to Gale for comfort. You warily turn to Johanna, “Did they…?”

“No, they never used the tracker jacker venom against me.” She shakes her head, “Just water and electricity.”

“I’m… glad.”

“Me too.” She says.

The rest of the trip is taken in silence, as you stomp through glass from windows and cars. Boggs has you gather around the Holo to see the projection of the street. The gunfire pod is ahead, a little higher up. The net pod is at the end, almost around the next corner. Volunteers are taken to set off the traps, but once again, none of you are picked.

The smoke bombs are thrown, and the camera begins to roll. You carefully go down the street, as Gale sets off the pod. You all break windows to some capacity, but flatten against the ground as soon as the actual pod is set off. The stones are light orange and pink, waving between each other.

Boggs wants you to head forward, but Cressida, the director of the camera crew, needs a few close-up shots of your reactions. You’re all forced to reenact what you had just done, this time with a flair of dramatics. Mitchell’s acting is so horrible that most of you are left in tears of his idea of desperation. Boggs is shaking his head, but even he’s smiling.

He sets up the Holo to find the best way to trigger the next pod. Just as he takes a step towards you guys, the pastel stone he’s placed his foot on, sinks in the ground, and explodes, taking his legs with it.

#ilguna #johanna mason #johanna mason imagine #johanna mason oneshot #johanna mason fanfic #johanna mason x reader #johanna imagine #johanna fanfic #johanna x reader #johanna oneshot #johanna mason x yn #johanna mason x y/n #johanna mason x you #thg #the hunger games #requested #angst

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dragondemoness · 2 years

Note

Can you make another reader that committed suicide to save other but with thh or goodbye despair

I went with THH, because I had the most ideas for it

And with this, my inbox is now completely empty!

Warnings: Major angst, character death besides the reader's

THH Cast x Reader Who Commits Suicide

Makoto Naegi

When he sees your body, he's just horrified

Think about the first trial, when Sayaka died, but much more emotional

At first, he thought you were killed

And he wanted to hate whoever "killed" you, but he couldn't

But when he started to piece things together during the class trial, all the color drained from his face

He tried to deny it, but deep down, he knew it was true

But he didn't admit it until Kyoko made him snap out of it

During the closing argument, repeating what happened felt like knives in his throat

It sounded even worse coming out of his own mouth

After the trial, he wanted to collapse into despair and never come back out

But Kyoko approached him and convinced him to keep going

It's what you would have wanted

Otherwise, you wouldn't have done it in the first place

It hurts, but he keeps moving on

He will continue to live for you

And he never wants to fall in love again

Byakuya Togami

Shocked, then angry

He snaps at the others to leave when he saw your body

But on the inside, he was shattered

And he wanted to find who "killed" you and give them a piece of his mind

But during the investigation, he figured out the truth fast

It hit him like one of his rich man yachts

He had no idea why you would do this

Why would you take your own life to save a bunch of plebeians?

You and him were supposed to survive till the very end

He couldn't care less about them

But he knew how big your heart was, and how selfless you were

Even if he didn't understand, he loved it about you

And now, he has to except that your selflessness was what took your life

During the trial, he leaves the whole thing to Makoto

He couldn't bear to say the truth out loud

As much as it hurts, he still keeps going

Even if you couldn't survive together, he'll survive for you

Chihiro Fujisaki

Mondo and Taka tried to prevent him from seeing your body at first

But when he saw you, he was absolutely heartbroken

Broke down crying then and there

Mondo and Taka comfort him while the others deal with the investigation

During the class trial, hearing that you killed yourself felt like a knife to the heart

He really wishes you didn't do it, but he understands why

He admires your selflessness

He tries his best to continue for you

But he wants you back more than anything

Leon Kuwata

Goes through the five stages of grief in one day

First, denial; he closed his eyes and pinched himself several times, hoping and praying it wasn't real

Anger; he started to punch a wall and kick things over while crying and yelling. He wanted to kill whoever "killed" you

Then, bargaining. What if he was able to stop you? What if he noticed something was wrong and talked to you about it

He goes through the stage of depression during the investigation and the first half of the trial

Then when the truth is revealed, his skin goes pale

He can't understand for the life of him why you did it

It's not like your classmates were THAT great

Remember when I said he went through the FIVE stages of grief?

Well, make that four

He'll never be able to accept your death

It starts to drive him insane

And he goes on to murder Sayaka, hoping for a way to escape the pain

But it only causes more

Kiyotaka Ishimaru

Shocked, horrified, and sad

Like how he was during Mondo's execution

He's yelling and screaming, and Mondo has to calm him down

He stays in his dorm during the investigation

During the class trial, when the truth comes to light, he can't even say anything

You were just so selfless

So selfless that you would do anything to help your classmates

He couldn't be angry at you for that

He wanted to be proud, but all the emotions just up and left him

After the trial, he acts the same way he did after Mondo's execution

He can't eat, he can't sleep, he can't speak

All of his energy is gone

He wants to end it and follow you, but he knows you wouldn't want that

Mondo is there to support him, which helps a little bit, but it's not the same

Taka just wants to be put out of his misery

And he would get that chance soon

Mondo Owada

Starts yelling and screaming upon seeing your body

Demands for whoever "killed" you to come forward so he can pound them dead

He wants more than anything to find out who did it

But it was you

You took your own life

And he can't understand why

Why would you end your own life for a bunch of classmates he barely cared about?

But he has to accept it, and he hates it

He copes with your death with anger

Nothing can calm him down

If one of the others bothers him too much, he might just pound their skull in

When Chihiro tried to comfort him, it only ended in his death

Mondo was at his breaking point, and Chihiro tipped him over

He reminded him so much of you

He hadn't meant to, but now he lost someone else

During his own trial, he didn't even deny what he did

He accepted his execution with his head hanging low

He just wanted to be with you again

Yasuhiro Hagakure

Absolutely terrified

Just starts freaking out and freaking out

"Ahhh! Why did this happen?! Who killed (Name)?! Who did it?!"

Aoi has to slap him to snap him out of it

Even so, he stays in his dorm during the investigation

And during the trial, he just feels sad

He's proud of you for what you did, even though he doesn't understand

He wishes he could have predicted it, but he knows he couldn't have

He feels depressed for the rest of the killing game and on forth

Hifumi Yamada

Starts freaking out the second he sees you

He wants to kill the person who "killed" you

He doesn't take part in the investigation, he can't do it

During the class trial, when the truth is revealed, he just feels really sad

He hates that you did it, but he admires your selflessness

You're the bravest person he's ever known

After a while, Celeste uses his vulnerability to trick him into killing Taka

Before killing him herself

In his final moments, he doesn't even regret it

He knew he was going to get executed, but he didn't care

He only wanted to be with you

And thanks to Celeste, he would finally get that chance

Kyoko Kirigiri

On the outside, she's aloof, but on the inside, she's horrified and stressed

Who could have killed someone as sweet as you?

She closely investigates your body, not trusting anyone else to do it

Not even Makoto

She figured out the truth real quick

She keeps the aloof expression, but on the inside, she's really sad

When she tells the truth during the trial, her voice broke

It hurt her to say it, but she had to

She continues to live, knowing that was what you wanted

But she grows more distant from her classmates after that

Toko Fukawa/Genocide Jack

When she finds your body, she faints from the blood

And Genocide Jill comes out, demanding to know who killed you

Her crazy, sporadic demeanor completely fades away, and now she's pissed

She doesn't investigate, but she keeps a close eye on the investigators to make sure they didn't try to erase any evidence

She switched back to Toko for the trial

After hearing the truth, she was confused

She couldn't understand why you'd end your life for a bunch of idiots

Neither does Genocide Jill

She doesn't understand, but there's nothing she can do

Genocide Jill wants to just kill everyone else out of anger and desperation to be reunited with you

But Toko refuses, knowing that you wanted her to live, even though she didn't

But at some point, Genocide Jill can't take it anymore

I think we both know how it went from there

Aoi Asahina

Reacts the same way she did when Sakura died

Knelt down and started crying and begging for you to come back

But you were gone

This case is pretty much exactly like the Sakura case

She covered up the truth in an effort to get herself and everyone else executed

You didn't deserve to die, they did

In the end, her attempt failed, and she apologized to the others

But she still believed you didn't deserve to die, and she really wanted to be with you again

Sayaka Maizono

She screamed VERY loudly after seeing your body

She was absolutely horrified

She turned away, hoping it wasn't real

But it was

She felt sick and couldn't participate in the investigation

She was disgusted by it, and was hoping that whoever "killed" you would get punished

Until she learned that you did it yourself

She was heartbroken

But she understood that you did it because you cared

She could sympathize with you, after all

She wanted to kill Leon, so she could go find her old friends

And you talked her out of it

But now, she might have to go back to that plan

For a different reason this time

Celeste Ludenburg

Oh ho ho

She is pissed

She wants to know who killed you so she can watch their execution

She doesn't participate in the investigation though, she can't look

But during the trial, she just blanks at first

"...What?"

She doesn't understand

Why would you throw away your life for a bunch of morons?

She's calm on the outside, but on the inside, she can never accept your death

Goes on to kill Taka and Hifumi out of desperation

"Wait for me, my love..."

Sakura Ogami

Shocked, sad, and angry

Upon finding your body, she asks in a low voice, "Who did this?"

She holds your body close to her for a moment, not wanting to let you go

But she does

She does participate in the investigation, hellbent on finding out who killed you

When she found out the truth during the trial, she is devastated

But she understands why

All it meant was that you were so selfless and you cared a lot about them

You're the bravest and strongest person she ever knew

And she's not far behind you

Mukuro Ikusaba

She was posing as Junko when she found you

She broke character for a second, and the others didn't notice

"Why... Why them?"

She can't bear to participate in the investigation

She's thinking about how the whole thing was just one big mistake

You were the only one who knew the truth about her, and you still loved her anyway

When she found out the truth during the class trial, she was devastated

This wasn't supposed to happen

But it did happen

It was all because of her sister

If she hadn't started this killing game, you wouldn't have died

And Mukuro played a part in it

She decides there's only one thing she can do

She has to kill her sister

And honestly, she might not be far behind

Junko Enoshima

She's just shocked at first

This wasn't supposed to happen

You were supposed to be the only one left alive

But you died. To save your classmates

They weren't even important

Were you just trying to get away from her?

Was she not enough for you?

She was angry that you betrayed her, but even more so, sad that you were gone

Sure, she loved despair, but this was something she couldn't handle

At the class trial, she just ends the whole thing and executes everyone

It's not fun anymore

Not without you

After that, she performs the Ultimate Punishment on herself

And now, the Killing Game has come to a close

#danganronpa x reader #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #makoto naegi x reader #byakuya togami x reader #chihiro fujisaki x reader #leon kuwata x reader #mondo owada x reader #yasuhiro hagakure x reader #hifumi yamada x reader #kyoko kirigiri x reader #toko fukawa x reader #genocide jack x reader #genocide jill x reader #aoi asahina x reader #sayaka maizono x reader #sakura ogami x reader #mukuro ikusaba x reader #junko enoshima x reader #celestia ludenburg x reader

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howlsofbloodhounds · 10 months

Text

Some random STAGES HCs:

Despite how feral and almost animalistic Stage 3 may be, it isn’t actually that loud. It mainly grunts, scratches, tries to bite, and occasionally growls. But no one has ever heard it do things like purr, or whimper, or scream. Chara didn’t like when it was loud.

It can’t read, write, or speak. And anytime another STAGE kinda goes “co con” with it, they struggle to remember how to do that, too.

When Color eventually gets around to gaining some of 3’s trust, it starts making more noises like purring. It likes head scratches and pets, and most days it’ll just lie down with its head on Color’s lap until it calms downs enough to allow another STAGE to take over.

It can’t speak, so it can’t speak about what scares it so much. Why it believes everyone is such a threat, it can’t describe the things it sees, feels, and hears. Not yet. Killer’s therapist, their friends, and STAGE 1 & 2 are trying to help 3 learn how to do that though.

4 struggles with a lot of homicidal ideation. Chara use to praise it for that, for doing a good job, will make sure to reward it whenever it was good. (All manipulation tactics to make 4 come to like them, of course. To feel thankful that they were “caring” for them after such a painful punishment, or come to think that they were so merciful and kind for forgiving them after a “mistake.”)

4 is like a sleeper agent, only comes out to do what needs to be done then leaves. Their only interest and loyalty is to Chara and the other STAGES, and keeping the rest of the STAGES in line. It doesn’t care for the outside world at all, not about Color or Nightmare.

They claim to care for the other STAGES, but it’s care mirrors the “love” that Chara taught it. Possession, control. Fear and pain.

Killer’s therapist is currently trying to find a way to speak with 4. It hasn’t happened yet, and 4 doesn’t know about her attempts to speak to them yet. It will likely only show up when they feel the therapist is getting too close to something she shouldn’t be, and will probably show up to try and scare her off.

It doesn’t know about Color yet. I feel it’d get very jealous and possessive when it realizes how much STAGE 1 & 2 have come to trust him. Even more when 3 does as well.

Another big thing the therapist is trying to do is help STAGE 1 learn to trust his STAGES and help him understand why they are the way they are. Why they think the way they think, and act the way they do.

Killer hasn’t told the therapist about Something—the Chara in his head— yet. He can’t bring himself, he knows 4 won’t allow it. It’s always lurking over his shoulder, watching him and listening carefully to his every time he even talks about the actual Chara. No way it would allow him to speak about Something.

Something hasn’t been able to take full, complete control of the body yet. The closest they get is whenever 4 is in control, because 4 will actually listen to them and do what they want. Unlike Two, who would just ignore them, and One, who Something would have to bug and intimidate into giving them what they want.

(There was this one time 4 made a bouquet of buttercup flowers for Something. They didn’t ask for them, it just wanted to do something for them. 4 knows that Something misses their family, the Dreemurrs, although Something will never admit it.)

Something makes sure to remind 3, 2, and One of the Rules. 4 enforces them.

Stage 4 and Something know the most about the actual Chara. About the plan they made with Asriel to break the barrier and steal a few human souls. How Chara died. Why they Fell into the Underground.

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batmanrogues-scenarios · 2 years

Note

Can I get angsty? You wtote how some characters would react if hit by batman buuut....How would dork squad and black mask react if our S/O would end up with lasting damage because of them. No matter if it would be because of batman or not as well. Lost limb, eye, mute, whatever you find matching to scenario

Riddler

One of his traps manufactured but instead but stopping it he tried to keep it going to get Batman and it's hurt S/O arm

Damage was big so he immediately went to hospital

He expected it to be in casket but when talking to a doctor he said it did damage to the nerve system so S/O might have problem with moving their arm

Just sits there quiet in the first time, 'they-they will be okay, they will heal'

Makes sure S/O is comfortable and does everything for them nervously waiting

Then the day comes and... they have trouble moving their hand; they can't bend their fingers or even get the arm high enough

He goes through stages of grief, not believing , getting angry at Batman and blaming him, having a breakdown understanding it was his action and having a depressive episode

He started making amends and helped them get rehabilitation, they won't be able to use hand normally but at least it won't hurt

Finally he accepts it and promises to keep S/O safe, won't ever bring them on heist again

Scarecrow

He throw his toxin refusing to leave and S/O had to literally drag him out of there

He accidentally sprays them straight in the eyes and he just froze when S/O started screaming

Finally gets out he gave them antidote and id trying to clean their eyes with water just to get some of toxin out

S/O is heavely crying out, eyes really red

He sees that there's something wrong with eyes and when S/O starts calling for him asking where he is he's getting a heart attack

Gets a doctor to immediately look after S/O

After few hours his fear were confirmed and S/O got a damage to eyes making them almost blind, only able to see stains of colors

He just gets up and goes outside and after taking deep breath destroys the container with toxin while screaming bloody murder

Is with S/O 24/7, refuses to leave but doesn't talk

S/O need to have conversation with him, otherwise his guilt will never go away

Would be more clingy if S/O forgives him, never let's them by hurt again

Mad Hatter

He was attacking with an axe, just being in one of his 'no understanding reality' moments

That was until he hit S/O throat

He stopped when he saw red and S/O fearful expression

His hands started shaking while trying to stop the bleeding with his scarf

Immediately tells his henchmen to take medic quickly

Stays with S/O trying to calm them

Doctor was able to stop it but their vocal cords were damaged so they voice would be destroyed, if they could even talk

He refuses to take this information, just hugs S/O saying everything will be alright

But when S/O tries to say something and they can't because of pain reality hits him and only silent tears are now present

He will do whatever S/O wants, be their voice, pick them up, he won't even say anything if they want

Just anything so they won't leave

Even when S/O starts talking they can see how uneasy he is, their voice is a reminder of what he did

Black Mask

It was another gang fight and he was just shooting people

While doing it he destroyed chain that was holding metal barrels and they fall on S/O

When he realized what happened he goes "Fuck!" and runs to them

It's hard to pick the barrels which gives him panic attack, when he finally gets them out of the way he sees S/O legs are crushed

Starts swearing and picks them at yelling at henchmen to finish the job while drives S/O to the hospital

The doctors immediately put S/O on operating table while Roman walks back to back smoking and cursing at himself

When it's done doctors said they weren't able to save one of their leg and he almost throws doctor threw a wall

He goes to see them as just stares

He cannot say anything, just walks out and punches the wall

For the first he regrets hurting someone

When S/O comes back he makes sure give them best prostetic leg

Let's them hold his arm while trying to walk, makes sure his henchmen won't comment on that

Way sweeter and delicate than he's ever been

Kisses their prosthetic to show that he still loves them

It's a painful reminder

#riddler x reader #mad hatter x reader #black mask x reader #scarecrow x reader #lightningstrikeleader #pati writes

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stinkywrinkles · 1 year

Photo

Hello, extended Stinkywrinkles family. I’m terribly sad to announce that our sweet, bestest boy, our wonderful Hurley, finally succumbed to his long-term health issues on Wednesday.

He was diagnosed with tracheal collapse at the age of 2 and underwent soft palate surgery at that time to help clear his airway. With careful management of his activities, temperature, and weight, he was able to lead a long and joyful life by our sides, go on adventures, and be his best silly self. He’d gone blind and deaf over time, needed various eyedrops 4 times a day, occasionally had a bladder or tooth issue…. But mostly he was still fit, had good mobility, always a voracious appetite, and was happy to spend his days snuggling, snoozing, screaming at us for supper, and snuffling for treats in the yard. We adapted ourselves to his disabilities and needs, carried him, lifted him on and off furniture, guided him around with gentle cues, and did our best to ensure his comfort, safety, and happiness as his world slowly grew smaller.

We knew he was in the late stages of his tracheal collapse when he finally developed that telltale “honking” cough in the past year or so. Still, it was manageable. Most days he was fine, and still able to do all his favorite little things.

Then on Monday morning, he suddenly had a 10-second seizure after a small coughing fit. Within 48 hours his breathing had degraded until he was quietly wheezing more often than not, his heart was racing whenever he was awake, and there was a rattle in his breath. These are the last pictures I took of him on Wednesday morning, when he was still calm…. but he was obviously wearing down.

In a twist of terrible timing, I had a video-call job interview to get through that afternoon, and was desperately trying to keep myself together just one more hour, then we could say goodbye to Hurley that evening….. but when Bear called to make the appointment, the vet recommended an emergency euthanasia based on his worsening condition. My interview didn’t work out and then I came downstairs to find out we had MINUTES to take Hurley in instead of hours. My poor heart was not ready, and it was devastating. But we couldn’t ask our sweet boy to hold on anymore. :(

Bear absolutely did the right thing because the emergency vet just barely managed to put Hurley to sleep in my arms before he could asphyxiate right in front of us. It was terrible and he was scared, there wasn’t even any time to sedate him. He’d been “okay” on the drive there but within another 20 minutes he was in such respiratory distress it was actually a relief when he went still. It wasn’t at all how we wanted him to go, and I wish more than anything we could’ve had more time. It’s never enough time. :(

I’d been lucky enough to work from home for Hurley’s entire life and can probably count on one hand the number of full days I’d ever had to spend away from him in 12 years. He was my first dog, our first dog as a couple, and truly a gem of a companion. He was hilarious, goofy, super-affectionate, and weird. He made us laugh every single day, whether by his actions or his quirky personality or his sweet, dopey face.

We found Hurley in the classifieds when we were first thinking of getting a dog 12 years ago. He was 6 months old and his owner felt it better to rehome him as he worked long shifts. We drove over “just to look” (lol), but I was a goner the second they put this clumsy little potato named Hurley on the porch and he stumble-crawled into my lap. He was completely trusting and sweet-tempered, accepted us as his new family immediately, and was glued to us forever.

Hurley was 100% a “people dog”. He had little to no interest in other dogs (beyond sniffing their butts), although he did bond nicely with Roxy when we added her to the mix 6 months later. He loved us with his whole wrinkly heart and always had to be by our sides. He used to play a little when he was younger, but for the most part he wasn’t a “play dog” either. He was a “velcro dog” and a “food dog”. His favorite things in the world were his people, his yard, cuddles, meals, Roxy, and treats. And barking. MAN could that little guy bark. Barks loaded in every wrinkle.

He loved trick-training, and even though he was a bit of a slow leaner, once he nailed a command he’d perform it with joy and enthusiasm every time. He loved to high-five, and retained that ability even after he’d gone blind and deaf because he was able to learn a different cue for it. His disabilities sort of forcibly eroded the “language” we’d built up all the years prior, but we figured out how to communicate the same messages in new ways, and he was visibly excited whenever he “got” whatever I was trying to tell him through guidance and gentle touch-cues. He trusted us through every frightening new change in his life and health, and was always sweet, friendly, and tolerant with vets, groomers, and visitors. Forever a squirmer, never a fighter or biter.

Hurley was the definition of a “good boy”. We couldn’t train him to stop barking for the life of us, but he was never destructive in the house, never naughty or sneaky at all, just a simple little guy with simple needs, love in his heart and a gentle tail-wag (and maybe a fart) in his bum. His best days were spent sniffing and exploring the outdoors, going on adventure-walks before his blindness made new environments stressful, being with his family, and napping in a sunbeam or warm blanket with a full belly. He loved Bear to bits, but was truly a momma’s boy to his core. Being a dog’s “chosen person" is a special kind of bond I can’t even put into words. He was happiest when he could be near me, fused to my side if possible, and I’ll forever be thankful my circumstances allowed me to spend nearly every day of his life with him. From the moment he first clambered into my lap, I knew he was mine, and that I’d hold him snug in my arms when he had to leave this earth.

I’m glad he’s not suffering anymore, and we always knew this time would come, but the loss has left a huge hole in my heart. His daily care in the past few years was amounting to a lot of work, and realizing I no longer have all these dozens of little tasks to do to tend to his health, safety, or comfort feels strange and unfamiliar. Roxy didn’t have much of a reaction at first but has now noticed he’s “missing” from the household and has been worried and extra-clingy, either because she’s feeding off our emotions or because she’s concerned we’ll disappear too. We’re trying to keep her routine as normal as possible. This is the first time in over 15 years we’ve only had one pet to care for, so now it’s officially “Princess Roxy Time” where she gets to rule over us and soak up our full attention like she’s probably always secretly wanted, lol. Hurley’s needs greatly limited the activities we were able to do with her or the places we could go as a family, but we’ll make sure Roxy’s remaining years are some of her most wonderful yet.

All in all, we know we gave our special boy a happy and full life tailored to his needs and personality, and always did our best for him. I'll love you forever, my bestest little buddy, my funny squishy boy, my sweet happy Hurwee. You’ll be in my heart always.

#november 2022 #hurley #tw: animal death #tw: pet death #rainbow bridge #words #thank you all for following his adventures #we'll still be active here but it'll be just roxy #hurley loved everybody and he would've loved you all too

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multiversstuff · 11 months

Text

Chapter One - Death Version One

A/N - I finished the chapter sooner than expected! For the concept of where the chapter takes place; click me!

Warnings — 18+! Violence, kidnapping, blood, weapons

WC: 1315

Death. You get taught that everyone experiences it at one point in their life; whether it’s someone they know or witnessing a death.

But what no one tells you, is that you can experience more than one type of death – there’s the normal type that everyone knows, then there’s the type where you, yourself, die; spiritually, mentally and physically.

No one taught me that. But I know it, because I’ve experienced each and every one.

My name’s Danielle, and this is my story on how I died, again, and again; and how I survived to tell the tale.

It was supposed to be a normal day – wake up, go to work, go home, and do whatever. So, what happened? How did I end up in a warehouse tied to a chair across…eleven?…eleven people with bags over their heads. I’m assuming that, just like me, they’re all gagged because a few of them are awake and screaming; at least, they’re trying to. It kind of sounds like they’re screaming into pillows.

The only light I can see is from the lightbulb dangling above me; from that light, I can see the eleven others in a similar situation as myself – tied to their chairs by the hands, behind their back, and their feet, against the two front legs of the chair. Looking around, I can see a white-ish counter covered in rust, the light isn’t bright enough for me to be sure; but it’s to my left. There’s what I’m going to assume to be, a counter to the right of me, and right next to the counter (on my left) is a sink, and another, longer, counter. The eleven are seated in a way where I can see each and every one clearly; one slightly to my left and one slightly to my right. I may not be able to see their faces, but judging by what they’re wearing and by general, and obvious, anatomy; I can see that there are five women and six men.

I’m crying – I don’t know when I started crying, but I am. Noticing the tears got me out of my head, which made me realize that I’m also hyperventilating.

I need to calm down…this isn’t helping anything, and it certainly won’t help when, whoever brought us here, comes back. Trying to put my head between my legs to help my breathing…my restraints are too tight so, I lean my head back slightly and look at the dim light; focusing on my breathing.

Inhale for three seconds…hold for four…exhale for five. I repeat that breathing sequence until the tears stop flowing.

After I get the tears to stop, I go back to looking forward; at the woman who’s sitting right in front of me. Almost immediately after, I hear what sounds like a door opening behind me, to my right. I whip my head towards the sound and, sure enough, a door is wide open letting a room-full of light pour into the room I’m in. There are two men – one holding the door open and one in the doorway. My eyes follow them as they make their way towards me.

One stops behind me, the other places both of his feet in front of me. I can’t make out what he looks like; my eyes trying to adjust to the change of brightness.

Keeping my eyes forward, the man in front of me bends down by the waist to make eye contact. I can now see his facial features.

Short, close to a buzz cut, sandy blonde hair.

He’s white with a slight, but very noticeable, orange tint to his skin. A tan gone wrong.

Thin lips.

His eyes are light blue…but with the way he was looking at me made them look as dark as the sky when the sun is in its last stage of setting.

He’s tall. I don’t know how tall, but enough to have to bend his knees slightly when he lowers down by the waist.

I keep my breathing calm.

“Hi, Dani,” he speaks in a low voice, “remember me?” I don’t recognize him in the slightest, so I shake my head. “Take a moment,” he cocks his head to my left, “think about it; rack your brain, we just met a few hours ago.” A few hours ago I was at work…getting the mail…I said hello to a man coming out of the stairwell before turning to the elevators – immediately before someone hit me over the head…THE MAN! He’s the man!

My face had to show that I remembered because the next thing he said, before standing straight up, was “there it is. You remember.” Now that he’s fully standing, I can see that he’s wearing a simple black t-shirt, with dark blue jeans and tennis shoes; white tennis shoes.

I tried to say “what do you want?” But what came out was “mmm…mmm…” The man takes out my gag and I take in a large breath.

“What was that?” He said in an annoyed tone.

“I said,” inhale, “what. Do. You. Want?” Exhale.

The man sighs exaggeratingly and starts walking towards the woman who’s sat in front of me. He doesn’t stop in front of her; he stops behind her, grasping onto the bag he says “I want what you know.” My eyebrows knit in confusion. “And you’re going to give it to me…every little piece of information you have, you will bestow to me.” I’m even more confused now, but before I get the chance to say anything, he rips the bag off of the woman’s head and now I can see her face.

She’s not just any woman…she’s my mom. My wonderful mom who has helped me work my way out of my own personal hell. Who helped me recover from the worst moment of my life. The woman who’s had to deal with my attitude, ungratefulness, and my short-temper. My mom who’s supposed to be in Arkansas.

I have so many questions; why is she here? Who are these guys? What information could I have that they would want?

The man pulls out a knife and puts it to her throat. The other man, who hasn’t left his spot behind me, puts a ripped piece of duct tape over my mouth and grabs ahold of my head to make sure I don’t look away. At least that’s what I’m assuming; after watching so many true crime shows, movies and documentaries, I’m going to stick to my assumption.

I, finally, begin to struggle against the restraints and, now, the other mans hands. No screaming comes from me, but muffled words do; trying to get one of the men to take the duct tape off so I can, at the very least, get a question out. All I want is to know what he thinks I know so I can convince him that I don’t know anything and they can let us go…or take the knife off of my mom’s throat, at least.

But it doesn’t work. Neither one of them move and I’m stuck looking at my mom’s tear-stained face, gagged, and a knife to her throat. I increase the volume of my muffled words when he doesn’t make a move or a sound.

That doesn’t help either; in fact, it made things worse. He moved slightly back, grabs a hold of her hair and moves the knife to his left.

My muffled begging increases in volume. No…this can’t happen.

Mom’s eyes widen. The knife starts to move. Blood starts to pour. My begging turns to screaming.

I was right. The other man is holding my head to make sure I can’t look away. They want to make sure that I watch as this man, the man I have only seen once, slice my mom’s throat; taking a part of my heart, my soul, and my life away from me.

#writing #projects #fanfic #chapter 1

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whimsicalworldofme · 2 years

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Saving Grace: Chapter Two

Grace confronts Fury and ends up even deeper into S.H.I.E.L.D's shady goings on.

Content warnings for this chapter: None

“Where do you get the absolute audacity to do that to me?” Grace asked as she stormed into Fury’s office at SHIELD’s New York headquarters, slamming the door shut behind her.

Pepper had been able to find someone to administer the paternity test for them at Stark Tower within the hour, so they’d gone ahead, but the whole time, all Grace could think of was how she’d give Fury a piece of her mind the minute they were through. He had requested she return to headquarters anyway for further business and the whole train ride over she mulled over exactly what she wanted to say. As a psychologist, it wouldn’t be a good look to run in yelling and screaming and she had planned to maintain calm, but the instant she saw his face, her rage boiled over.

“To walk me into a situation like that, to force me to reveal a thing that should have been revealed on my time table, in a way of my choosing?” She carried on while Fury stood behind his desk, expression flat, waiting for her to finish. “What is wrong with you? Is this how you intend to operate your Avengers initiative? To run SHIELD? Because if so, I’m not sure my partnership with either is going to work out.”

She folded her arms over her chest, waiting for him to say anything in his defense, to assure her that it was a one-time thing and that their working relationship would be far more professional from that moment forward.

“I needed to incentivize you,” Fury stated.

“Incentivize me to do what?” Grace didn’t like the sound of it. “What are you trying to coerce me into doing Fury? You know I don’t operate this way.”

He just stared at her, not answering, waiting for her, because they both clearly knew she felt the need to go on.

“I’m a psychologist and a scientist, not one of your superheroes or secret agents,” she continued. “You will be honest and direct with me, or I won’t work with you, understand?”

“You get it out of your system?” He inquired flatly and she nodded. “Good, if you’re done yelling at me, I have something to show you.”

“Why can’t you tell me what it is?” Grace challenged him. “It’s been a very trying day, and I’d really like to go back to my hotel.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Fury said as he walked past her to the door, opening it and gesturing for her to step out with him.

With a huff, Grace turned on her heel and followed him out of the room. Again, she struggled to keep pace with him, but he noticed this time and slowed down. They made their way through the guts of that particular level of the office building, an open space full of techs and researchers at computer desks. It was grey and bland and if Grace didn’t know any better, she would think it was something like an insurance office. Fury led her into an elevator, pulled out a key from a breast-pocket of his trench coat, slipped it into a spot on the elevator panel, turned it and pressed the button beside it.

Well, that’s not suspicious at all, Grace thought as they began moving upward. Never a good sign when you have to have a secret key to access a place…in a shady secret government agency. Is it aliens? I can’t handle aliens today. Please.

They rode in silence for a few seconds and when the door rattled open again, Fury took out the key, tucked it safely back into his pocket and stepped out into a vast open room. It was clearly the size of all the other floors of the building, but it had no windows, no separating walls. The floors were bare concrete and all the metal support structures were exposed.

“What the hell is this?” Grace noticed a box made of particle board built up to one side, reminiscent of the backside of a stage set from a theatre production. Off to the other side, was a dimly lit medical setup with a group of people in scrubs and lab coats standing around a table, obscuring from sight whatever was there. “Do I even want to know?”

Fury looked down at her from over his shoulder and almost smiled. Almost.

“This is the project I want you to stay in New York for.”

He led her over to the medical area, the people in scrubs and lab coats parted, letting them through to reveal a man in a mostly blue outfit lying on the examining table. The medics kept working, machines monitoring vitals signs, though Grace realized that his legs from the knees down were trapped in a block of solid ice. She wandered around the table, up to his face, his blond hair slicked back and though his face looked a little blue from the cold, recognition dawned on her.

“Captain America?” Grace gaped, looked from the frozen super soldier back to Fury. “How?”

“Classified,” Fury said. “We’re still bringing him back around. He was on ice the whole time. We don’t even know if he’ll wake up. But if and when he does, I want you responsible to bring him mentally into this century. You’re the best for the job, since you work with combat veterans.”

“I don’t know if I’m qualified to handle…” she looked up and down the length of the table at the man they were still actively chiseling out of ice, “this.”

“You’re more qualified than the dumbasses the board brought in.”

“What’s with the set?” Grace ignored his musings as she stepped out of the way of the medical team and headed towards the door set into the impromptu room.

“That is how I knew we needed you,” Fury followed behind her as she opened the door an stepped inside.

What the actual fuck?

Grace looked around at what appeared to be an approximation of a hospital room from the nineteen-forties. There was a large window on one wall and she could easily tell that the scene outside, the brick buildings also from the forties, was a photo backdrop. Even if she hadn’t known walking in that it was a set, it would’ve been easy to pick up on.

“The motherfuckers that the board brought in came up with a plan to make Captain Rogers believe he’d woken up in the forties, just after the war ended. Nurses in bullet bras and red lipstick, old recordings of baseball games and radio programs.”

“That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Grace snorted in derision. “I mean, the minute he goes to look out the window, he’s going to realize it’s fake,” she poked through the frame and watched the backdrop wobble. “There isn’t even glass in the pane.” Shaking her head, she turned around and folded her arms over her chest. “I studied the super soldier project in my doctorate program. I based a large portion of my thesis on it. Steve Rogers is a smart man. Too smart for this to ever work. I wouldn’t recommend this farce for any patient of mine. Dementia patients, maybe. They need to be rooted in what they remember, but this is a far different scenario.”

“I am aware,” Fury said, trailing a few feet behind as she wandered around the room, continuing her examination. “The doctor we have said he thought it best to ease Captain Rogers into the truth.”

“You don’t do it like this,” Grace groaned. Her stomach churned with a multitude of conflicting emotions as she glanced out the door and caught sight of the captain’s practically lifeless form. He’s going to face something horrifyingly reality shattering. How can I leave him in the hands of people so alarmingly incompetent? When Fury is asking me to step in and help?

“How are his EEGs?” Grace asked. “I assume his cognitive function is fine, otherwise you wouldn’t be working to bring him back around.”

“You’re welcome to look at his medical files,” Fury put his hands on his hips again, his go to pose when he needed to look powerful in charge and commanding. “If you agree to stay and take over as the doctor in charge of his care.”

“Ugh,” she groaned, pressing her fingertips to her temples. “I can’t just pick up and move to New York. I don’t have the money to move, and besides, my stuff is all in California, how would I get it here? It’s a logistical nightmare.” She thought of her work with Stanford, the experimentation and research she was facilitating between the medical and programming departments. That’s important work. I can’t just abandon it.

Looking back through the door, she hugged herself, feeling her heart ache for what Captain Rogers would go through when he woke, how alone he would feel. Despite having never met him, she felt a special connection to Captain Rogers, what with him having been so close to her grandfather. In college she had read as much of Howard’s research as possible, her only way to bond with him, and she knew how much the unconscious man in the next room meant as a friend to her grandfather.

He would want me to do this.

Pulling in a deep breath, Grace nodded. “I want this asinine set gone,” she commanded and Fury nodded. “I get that you can’t exactly take him to a hospital, for security purposes and all that, but you can outfit a modern room for him and still ease him into his new reality. I want him in a space with current medical equipment, a window with a real view, and for god’s sake, no actresses in costume,” she rolled her eyes.

“Yes ma’am,” the director agreed without hesitation. “We’ll get a moving team to retrieve your things and continue to pay your hotel bill until you find a place. In the meantime, Agent Coulson will see to whatever you need,” he ushered her back out of the set and into the empty office floor. “Coulson!”

A short man in a grey suit and leather oxfords stepped away from the rest of the team working on Captain Rogers. He had short brown hair, maybe balding a little up at the top, and kind, wide eyes. He smiled as he approached, his posture open and friendly.

“Dr. Turner, this is Agent Phil Coulson,” Fury introduced them. “Coulson, Dr. Briggs is fired, Dr. Turner will be taking over. Make sure she has everything she needs.”

“Of course,” Coulson nodded curtly.

“We’ll get you a key to the elevator,” Fury said as he began to walk away. “Until we can get him moved. You can check on him whenever you want. But otherwise, I’ll call when he wakes up.”

“Dr. Turner,” Coulson got her attention again and Grace turned back to him to see his hand extended. She shook it and watched Coulson grin. “I’m pleased to meet you. I’m overseeing things in a general sense here, so whatever you need, let me know.”

“You can call me Grace,” she insisted with a smile. “So you’re not in charge here?”

“Oh no,” he laughed in a quiet way. “There’s a whole board of powerful players above me and Director Fury who pull all the strings.”

“That doesn’t sound shady at all,” she muttered under her breath, but Coulson just smiled.

“I can assure you everything is above board,” he said, stretching out a hand to gesture they should walk to the elevators. “Let’s go down to my office. We’ll get you all of Captain Rogers’ records.” They made it into the elevator in an unusual silence that wasn’t uncomfortable, just odd. “It must be exciting,” Coulson speculated, glancing over at her, “getting the chance to see your grandfather’s work in action.”

“Does everyone here know I’m Tony Stark’s daughter?” Grace shook her head. “I managed to keep it under wraps my whole life. I start working for this shady government cabal and now my identity is public knowledge.”

“Only Director Fury and I know,” Coulson reassured her. “It’s part of our job to know who we’re working with. “And I look forward to all the good work we’re going to hopefully do together.”

About an hour later, Grace left the building with four locked file boxes of paperwork pertaining to Captain Rogers, driven in a black agency SUV driven by an Agent who insisted she call her Hill. She had very pronounced, sharp facial features and her dark brown hair was pulled into a messy bun. When Coulson had called her into his office to escort Grace back to her hotel, she had been in a grey jumpsuit, complete with tactical gear and wearing combat boots. Now in street clothes, a white button-down blouse, navy pencil skirt, and sensible flats, she looked as though she could be a colleague of Grace’s from the university.

As they carried the boxes up to Grace’s room, Hill kept her head on a swivel and Grace knew she was likely making note of doors and windows, potential exits, and marking every single person in close proximity. In the hotel room, Hill did a sweep for intruders and hidden surveillance equipment, and insisted that she keep the safety lock in place.

For two days straight, Grace fell down a rabbit hole of research, combing over the files she’d been given. In all of her college research, she hadn’t had a full picture of the project, since it was highly classified. All the information that had been made public in the years since had been heavily redacted. These files didn’t have any such limitations. There were even personal notes from Howard. His handwriting looked very similar to hers, which was something she hadn’t known before.

“I wish there was any sort of neuroimaging,” Grace lamented. “I would love to compare the images of Captain Rogers brain to that of a non-enhanced human’s.” It wasn’t part of her assigned task at hand, so she pushed it out of her thoughts, instead buckling down to formulate a plan for Captain Rogers’ reintegration into modern society. She used her every day work with regular combat veterans as the basis and felt she had a solid methodology in place by the end of day three.

A knock on her door jolted her out of her hyper-focus. Whoever it was continued to knock, unceasingly even as she shuffled through the room to the door. Looking through the peep hole, she saw Tony staring back at her, still knocking. Unlocking the door, she swung it in, finally stopping the knocking.

“Mr. Stark,” she smiled.

“Dad,” he corrected, stepping back, holding his hands out in a ta-da sort of gesture, a bright smile lighting his face.

“How about Tony?” Grace laughed. “I’m assuming the test results came back?”

“The answer to the question of who’s your daddy has been answered and it is, resoundingly me,” he smirked, tapping his chest.

Grace couldn’t help but feel the same giddy lightness he seemed to embody in that moment. He stepped past her into the room and started taking a look around, assessing the space. Luckily, she had tucked the files all back into their locked boxes before he’d arrived and shut her laptop, so he wouldn’t see what she was working on. Not that she meant to keep it secret she was working for SHIELD, just that she wasn’t sure yet how much she could divulge.

“This is unacceptable,” he turned around after seeing the room she was in. “This is a prison cell, not a room. You’re coming back to Stark Tower, I won’t take no for an answer.”

Before Grace could reply, her cellphone rang. Fishing it out of the pocket of her jeans, she checked the screen and saw it was Director Fury.

“I’m so sorry, this is a work thing I have to take,” she hated to interrupt the moment, but it felt necessary. “Hello?”

“He’s awake,” was all Fury said, his tone plainly furious. It clicked for her that something must have gone wrong. “I need you to get here now.”

“I understand,” Grace felt her stomach sink as she realized she couldn’t immediately celebrate with Tony. The phone clicked on the other end, indicating Fury had already hung up. Frowning, Grace put her phone back in her pocket. “Tony, I’m so sorry, but I have a work thing I have to get to.”

“We’ll celebrate tonight,” he insisted. “My place for dinner. Seven sharp. I won’t take no for an answer, young lady,” he wagged a finger at her and she laughed.

“Yeah, ok,” she nodded, gathering up her purse and keys. “Seven sharp.”

Chapter One

Master List

Chapter Three

#marvel #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic series #marvel fanfic series #Steve Rogers #Captain America #Captain America fanfic #Steve Rogers x oc #Steve Rogers fanfic #Tony Stark #Avengers #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic series

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bells-of-black-sunday · 1 year

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14, 22, 41 --Viktor

3, 7, 15 -- Ji Woon

34, 43, 56 --Danny

6, 10, 57 --Tarhos

Character Building | Accepting

putting it under cut for length-

Viktor

14. How do they put out a candle?

He's got one of those ol-timey candle extinguishers with the stick and the cup on the end.

22. What simple activity that most people do / can do scares your character?

How some people eat, no joke, he already found eating a chore when he was able to and now when he sees the way some people scarf down food without chewing he knows they're going to end up choking to death one day and part o him wants to see it happen.

41. What phrases, pronunciations, or mannerisms did they pick up from someone / somewhere else?

He picked up a much more "proper" way of speaking in an attempt to blend in at the academy as much as he knew he never would be able to, so now his normal Zaunite mannerisms blend with the Piltover ones into a wonderful mess.

Ji-Woon

3. How often do they show their genuine emotions to others versus just the audience knowing?

He is a much different person on stage and around people he needs to keep a business relationship with, as much as he pretends to be this bleeding heart that's so broken up over the death of his band mates, he really could not give less of a shit. He's the true star here, they died to make him better and he would've happily watched if the building wasn't going to collapse on him.

7. What would you (mun) yell in the middle of a crowd to find them? What would their best friend and/or romantic partner yell?

I'd probably just call him a loser- because he is - not that he'd show up, but I would. Friends or partners though? Probably just an alias he gave them, that'd probably get him to come in an instant.

15. What’s the most obvious difference between their behavior at home, at work, at school, with friends, and when they’re alone?

Well for one at work he has to pretend like he has some crazy fan stalker that's killing people around him and his own fans trying to get to him, but around people he can actually trust- he is so much more open about incorporating his victims screams into his back tracks. He's so much more open about his absolutely rancid personality and how full of himself he is.

Danny

34. How do they greet someone they like / love?

He's a very physical lover, he loves to touch and to be touched so for lovers he typically greets them with soft kisses or holding their waist from behind. With people he likes he's super casual about it, it's nothing special.

43. What do they commonly misinterpret because of their own upbringing / environment / biases? How do they respond when realizing the misunderstanding?

Danny honestly sees no issues with how he was raised, he had big shoes to fill and that meant intensive training for what he'd eventually become. You never disrespect the classics after all. That being said: he has a hard time figuring out when he actually likes, loves or even tolerates someone because of how well practiced his act is. We talked about it with Robin and I know I've talked about it with other ship partners, but Danny has this very well practiced act of a domestic life that's just odd enough to not be suspicious to other people.

And to be honest, he doesn't even know if he likes it. He knows what he likes in terms of his hobbies, but even then with his writing and everything he's not sure if he likes it because it's what his dad would've wanted or if it's something he truly enjoys. I don't think anyone could even break him out of that at this point that'd collapse his entire world view.

56. If they’re scared, who do they want comfort from? Does this answer change depending on the type of fear?

It absolutely changes depending on what the fear is. He has pretty much the same thought process for general anxieties or being scared over things that don't matter, he can usually calm himself down with breathing exercises or writing out his thoughts. However for big things like him worrying if he left too much evidence at a crime scene he doesn't have any coping mechanisms for that and simply decides to pack up and leave early. He doesn't want to take chances.

Tarhos

6. What’s their favorite [insert anything] that they’ve never recommended to anyone before?

Honestly? There's no bigger comfort for him than basking in the silence after carnage, the ringing in his ears and the destroyed buildings, even the fire brings comfort to him like no other, but of course he'd never recommend it was a way to relax to other people. As for more physical things, you have to get creative when you barely get scraps for food from whoever's hired you to fight their wars. Things that were commonly made were a form of meat pie that didn't have much spice or anything really, but it was something to eat and is also a comfort food for him.

In fact here's an entire video on them if you're interested even if the videos more in reference to the 11th and 12th century knights- T.asting History my beloved

10. What fact do they excitedly tell everyone about at every opportunity?

Do not get him started on war stories- he will talk for hours. He will tell you embarrassing things about lord's he's served under, the brutality of it all, rant about how fucking stupid people are, etc. etc.

57. What’s a simple daily activity / motion that they mess up often?

Bathing. Though it is a myth that people of the past didn't bathe, they absolutely did they just didn't wash their hair as often (their hair was still clean, it was just cleaned in other ways), it wasn't really a luxury he got to have. He'd usually bathe in rivers or streams, so now that he has an entire destroyed village all to himself, a lot of the time he either forgets to out right or bathes in cold water.

#ooc #/about the muse #evolution in progress (viktor)#just a man and his camera (ghostface)#a fan of knives (trickster)#a path of destruction (knight)

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loveyourselffool · 2 years

Text

I killed my dad. Maybe not directly, or maybe it was. He was diagnosed with Stage 4 Lung Cancer in February 2020. For a long time, he never felt the diagnosis, he was still golfing 18 holes up until the end of June. Clearly, my dad wasn’t sick enough yet for me to care for him 24/7, but he also had random appointments or tests here and there. I was very stressed and overwhelmed at trying to balance the new grad life, and being the perfect daughter. Inadvertently, I couldn’t keep up with both. With some resentment, I stayed casual for a while even though I stubbornly and secretly wanted more. I was offered line after line, and the managers seemed to take a liking to me. With much angst, I felt like I was thriving and enjoying the fruits of my labour. As in, finally appreciating the fact and feeling prideful that I graduated from Nursing even though I never had my parent’s support, and I was reminded of that day and night. Anyhow, I stayed casual so I could make every single appointment and test. We say it was for “translation” but my mom’s English is beyond basic. Looking back, I don’t resent being there for tests or appointments, if anything, I regret feeling even the slightest craving to start my career at that time.

My mom was very displeased that I continued to work casually (secretly I think it’s more because I actually graduated from Nursing), she never understood how much importance everyone puts on your first year of Nursing. I enjoyed working, it was always a learning opportunity, but also an escape. Starting in July, my dad’s symptoms finally became apparent. That was when I knew that I needed to take a real break from work. He couldn’t sleep in his bed anymore as the tumour or nodules prevented him from laying fully prone. I bought him an expensive and comfortable recliner that he started to sleep in every night, in the family room. Eventually, along with the pain, he started to develop respiratory issues as fluid would continuously fill his lungs requiring him to get frequent Thoracentesis procedures. My dad had always been a very reliant and needy person, merging that with the strong doses of steroids, his demands and fears became increasingly more exigent. It also created severe panic attacks at night where he would wake up screaming for help. I’m guessing it is from feeling like you’re drowning inside out.

Since mid July, I started to sleep downstairs in the family room with him, on the floor while he was in the recliner. I was able to calm his anxiety and meltdowns, but it only allowed me to have 2-3 hours of sleep every night. Due to the pain and his consistent need to smoke in the garage/outside, he would wake up every 2 hours or so. Understandably, when he struggled to sleep, he would want the company to listen to him talk about his past. For some reason, this was always at 3 AM. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I’ve always had poor sleeping habits so I could still function with the lack of sleep. I would have quick short naps throughout the day whenever I could. When we made it to August, I was lucky to even get 2 hours of sleep overnight. His attacks worsened, both frequency and severity. He started to require oxygen and Hydromorphone to help calm his respirations. My mom was hesitant to start medications, but with doctor’s and specialist’s persuasion, she was willing to try. My dad grew weaker as the days went by. With my small medical experience (I say that because I just graduated and felt like I hardly picked up enough), I tried to give sound advice or help gather the proper equipment that I felt would benefit my dad. My mom and I got into arguments daily because she didn’t feel like my judgement was trustworthy enough - fair enough though. His gait got weaker, I would have to wheel him to the garage while juggling his oxygen so that he could take his few puffs of nicotine. He couldn’t really stand anymore without human assistance. Palliative care got involved near the end of August, only because I was passing out in the room during my dad’s appointments, and the oncologist saw. Palliative care wasn’t helpful, I’m sure it is highly beneficial for others but it was basically useless for us. The palliative care team asked us what we needed help with, we responded that there wasn’t really much to help with as I was doing everything. I bathed him, fed him, and basically provided care 24/7. It’s not like my mom and I had to work, so even if they took over the care - we wouldn’t have just moved forward with our lives. They weren’t permitted to stay overnight for more than 4-6 hours, but they received special instructions that they could remain for 8 hours every night for my dad. Thus, allowing me to get more rest at night. That didn’t work though. My dad’s panic attacks were so bad by that time that even my mom and I had a progressively difficult time calming him down. So having a stranger in the home did nothing, I still slept downstairs on the floor getting 2-3 hours a night maybe. The nurses could administer Hydromorphone SQ... but I can do that too. And I was already doing that. My mom liked detailed administration notes of exact time, dosage, reasons why he needed it etc. So naturally, everyone including the care team felt better if I just continued with the administrations.

By the end of August, my dad was also starting to develop delirium. He was quite obviously confused, sometimes, he wouldn’t even make sense anymore. They think it might be from the Hydromorphone, since he’s never taken narcotics before. I always had my sleeping area set up closer to the fireplace so it was out of the way and he wouldn’t trip over me when we had to get up to the bathroom or for a smoke. Come September, on a Monday at like 3 AM... I woke up to crying...screaming? I can’t even remember, but I woke up. And I immediately look at the recliner to find my dad missing. I’ll never forget that feeling, my heart dropped. I was tired. I had fallen asleep, even though I was trying to stay awake. The past few days, he was presenting with even more confusion and I was scared. But it always comforted me that my dad couldn’t get up on his own and walk. He had to juggle his oxygen, grab his walker and he always woke me up if he needed to get up. He would say my name (I’m a light sleeper) or just nudge me with his foot. That thinking was the biggest mistake of my life. I found my dad laying in a fetal position near the front door. I don’t even know how long I screamed for. My dad was on/off confused, but he was able to say that he was “trying to go to the bathroom upstairs, but got tired and had to sit on the ground”. He hasn’t been upstairs in months... The palliative care team came to access him right away. They found no apparent or visible injuries, and everyone believed that he really just sat on the ground. Everyone but me, and my mom. I begged them to do an x-ray or CT scan or anything to prove that he fell and I was 100% at fault. They didn’t. The only reason we knew he even stood up on his own and adjusted his walker properly was because of the doggie cam we had for Momo. I’ll never forget my mom’s look. Shame, disappointment, hate.. but she never said anything to me.

The rest of the days leading up to his passing is a blur. After his fall, I felt more inclined to stay awake. It also helped that anytime I did fall asleep, I immediately got nightmares of my dad falling so I was terrified to close my eyes. I even tied my wrist to his ankle so I would know when he was trying to un-recline his chair. I don’t know why the thought didn’t occur to me earlier, but I finally was smart enough to get my dad a hospital bed rental in the home. We already knew from the start, and at my dad’s request, that hospice wasn’t an option for him. As soon as he was in the hospital bed in the family room, he got more comfortable which made him more drowsy. It scared all of us, but had a significant impact on my mom. The palliative team restarted their overnight care with us after the fall, especially since the nurse saw my guilt and self resentment. On the night of his passing, he was having a really bad panic attack and respiratory distress so as ordered by the doctor, I was told to try Midazolam. My mom was with me, (Ruby wasn’t really ever at home and when she was, she wasn’t in view of my dad much - she couldn’t handle it) we ... I couldn’t decide if Midazolam was a good idea. I explained to my mom that I know Midazolam makes you sleepy, and basically very drowsy but it would calm him down enough to let him rest. My mom was hesitant but I gently advised that I thought it would be best, I think I made a quick, rash decision as it was distressful seeing my dad thrashing about. Well, after I administered Midazolam and my mom went upstairs to shower... my dad passed. The nurse passed me their stethescope and told me to verify. I wasn’t processing anything, and was in a robot state of mind - so I didn’t realize how traumatizing and destructive that was to my mental health. I was shaking so badly, and confused, and scared. I had to go upstairs to tell my mom, and no matter how much I drink, I can never forget how that went or her cries after or her fists banging on my chest screaming why I gave him Midazolam. The first person I ever pronounced was my dad. The first time I gave Midazolam to someone was to my dad. The first fall I ever experienced was my dad’s. It was a lot of firsts. I never forgave myself, I never will. I truly think the fall inherently killed him. And if it wasn’t the fall, then it was the Midazolam. And it doesn’t really matter which one it was because I was the cause of both.

I always wished that I was the one laying in the bed sick, and not my dad. The only reason why I stayed alive was for my sister, because I owed her so much. (I ran away when things got bad at home, and have also never forgave myself for that because I left my sister). I promised to live for her and to never leave her alone again. Over the years, I tried to fix myself, to heal. I tried therapy, I tried drinking my problems away, nothing truly worked. I got “better”, the grief got “easier.” and my mom and I got “closer.” But the guilt never leaves. I hate myself. I don’t know why I never saw it. I don’t know why I never thought that a delirious person would get up to walk. I don’t know why I didn’t call the palliative nurse to inquire more about Midazolam before administering it. This trip has been significantly challenging, my mom hasn’t been coping well. We’ve been getting into bad fights, she finally admitted that she thinks I killed my dad and I didn’t make the appropriate decisions. In retrospect though, I don’t know if I could have done anything differently to change it.

0 notes

darkmulti · 2 years

Note

hello love! i want to request a noncon yandere idol ot7 bts x servant/maid reader. like while they are idols, they run an underground mafia and won the reader at an auction or smthn. the plot can be yours to play with since i know you will create a ✨masterpiece✨ have a lovely day! -💜🖤

⚠️: NON CON, YANDERE!BTS, dark & fucked up

-> sorry for any mistakes

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You were tied up and blindfolded

You had no idea where you were, what time it was, why you were there — you had so many questions

You could hear chatter and some muffled screams but you tried to remain calm for the time being

You don’t even remember what happened

“Move it, move it! Go on.”

A loud voice was approaching you and suddenly someone grabbed your arm and began dragging you somewhere

After going up three or four stairs, you were seated and your blindfold was taken off

You couldn’t believe it

Everyone was dressed up in suits and dresses, seated at fancy tables

They were all clapping, observing your face like you were some sort of animal

“Thank you, thank you! Believe it or not, she was the most well behaved.” The guy “jokes” and the audience let out a laugh

“She is the last prize we have here. She’s inexperienced, young and I would even say, naive.”

The host kept joking around and finally you were dragged back down from the stage into a room

You were waiting in that room for hours until the door opened and three men came inside

There faces were so familiar and that’s when you realized they were bts members

“P- please call for help! Please call the police! Help me get out of here, please!”

“Sorry, but we can’t do that.” Jimin said, stepping forward and crouching down to your level

“What do you mean?! Aren’t you here to help everyone escape?!” You looked at the other two members, Namjoon and Jungkook

“He wasn’t lying when he said she’s a little naive.” Jimin spoke, reaching out and touching your cheek

“W- what’re you guys talking about?”

Jimin grabbed your body and pulled you up with him

“We won you, now let’s go.”

He carried you out the back while Jungkook and Namjoon walked behind, never taking their eyes off of you

That night ended up being a very long night for you

All 7 members used you over and over

You weren’t able to sleep properly either because Jungkook and Taehyung wouldn’t leave you alone the whole night

The next day morning you ended up have morning sex with Jungkook and Taehyung and right after, Yoongi and Jin

You legs were shaking uncontrollably at the breakfast table and you were too terrified to speak too

Later that day, Namjoon assigned you to clean up after them

Now, you spend your day cooking and cleaning while at night, you give up your body to them

It was exhausting

Sometimes when you’re cleaning, one of them will bend you over and fuck you there and then just because they felt like it

It was hurting you physically and mentally

All night one of them would just keep going so you were barely getting any sleep

On top of that, you have to wake up early to make them breakfast

You don’t know how many times you asked them to leave you alone but the more you resisted, the more aggressive they become

All 7 of them had no mercy on you each time they fuck you

You’ll be sobbing into the mattress and they’d get mad because your crying is annoying to them

Especially for Yoongi, Taehyung and Jungkook

Every time you cry in front of them, they yell at you, degrade you and go even harder on you

When they’re present, you physically start shaking because that’s how much they traumatized you

Jimin is only scary after drinking

He’s easy to piss off and when he’s pissed he goes straight to you to take it out

Namjoon sometimes takes you to the studio with him that way when something not working out for him he can use you as a way to get his frustration out

Jin is a little nicer than the rest of the members bc he actually takes care of you after fucking you

You haven’t made Jin angry yet and hope you never do

Hoseok join’s in to fuck you with Jin, Yoongi or Namjoon

Maknae line is a little more aggressive with you and it’s not that he doesn’t like it, but he prefers you crying bc of too much pleasure, not because you’re scared

Don’t even get me started on Jungkook and Taehyung

Two psychopaths who can’t get enough of you

Every day both of them have to fuck you

It’s a routine now

And there’s no escaping them

Don’t even think about it

I'm sorry this sucks :p

#bts smut #bts yandere reaction #bts yandere smut #yandere bts #yandere bts smut #bts yandere

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finelinevogue · 3 years

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can you do one where the reader has a baby son and he is like a baby like 3 months old and he doesn’t want to leave his wife’s & sons side and he keeps checking over at them both, and his wife goes ‘look there’s daddy!’ And Harry waves 😭🥺

in celebration of 1000 notes on my masterlist and the fact dadrry on tour has me going feral, here we are;

Harry was definitely not going to be able to concentrate on stage.

Tonight he was performing in Dallas and was already suited up in his silky clothes, looking like a fluffy cloud that you could just dream away on. You really loved the whole suspenders thing he had going on, telling him he looked even more like a dad than he already does.

“Harry, will y’bloody calm down.” You sighed, rolling your eyes as he was pacing like a mad-man around backstage.

He was freaking out because tonight was the first show that his, your, son was also on tour with him. At only 2 months old, Dylan, was finally making his first appearance on ‘Love on Tour’ - not literally, but backstage. You and Dylan hadn’t been able to attend the first few shows because Dylan had had a checkup appointment for vaccinations. Now he was all okay, he was finally back in his favourite place on Earth - the presence of his dad. Although, currently, Harry was having a panic over everything that could go wrong with him being here.

You know how new parenting is.

“And what if I sing too loudly I burst his tiny eardrums—” Harry paced as he held his hands on his hips. You were currently holding Dylan against your chest, cocooned up in a soft-yellow baby wrap sling. He was sleeping peacefully against your chest because that’s all he did nowadays.

“Okay let me stop you right there, love.” You held out your hands for Harry to stop talking and he listened to you, looking at you with both dire stress and upmost love. “He’s got earphones first of all, okay? He’s going to be absolutely fine. All the other things you’re worried about, including alien abduction - which you seriously need to stop watching sci-fi movies by the way, are mindless things to worry about. He’s safe. Look.” You gestured to where he was laying peacefully upon your chest, all secure.

Harry walked over to you both and looked down at him in awe. He couldn’t believe he’d created something so perfect. Dylan was everything Harry had ever wanted and he woke up each day struggling to believe how lucky he was. He stroked his sons head lightly, leaning to give him a soft kiss on top of it. He was so in love with him. Harry’s head raised to meet you, smiling when he saw the love in your eyes you carried for him. He cupped your cheek and stroked an eyelash away from underneath your eye. He held it out on his finger for you.

“Let’s make a wish.” Harry whispered and you smiled at how corny he was being, especially when he had ten minutes until stage and was nowhere near pumped and ready. He didn’t care. His family was more important. These moments were more important.

“We can’t wish together.” You told him as if he was being silly.

“That’s a child’s rule. Let’s play by our own.”

“Okay. Together.” You nodded and closed your eyes, thinking up your wish. You heard Harry mutter the word ‘together’ under his breathe and then you opened your eyes and blew away the eyelash together. You looked at him as if something magical was just going to happen and then you both laughed at how silly you were both being.

“So you wished for endless ice-cream too right?” Harry joked, you knowing that’s definitely not was he wished for but played along with his joke anyway.

“No, mine was a little more PG rated.” You bit your lip and stifled a loud laugh.

“Do tell.” He whispered, getting closer to you but not too close so he’d squish his son. He’d gotten good at this whole dad thing, you thought.

“I wished that my husband got his tits out on stage more often.”

Harry gasped, quickly covering Dylan’s ears. “You can’t say things like that in front of our son, y’minx.”

“So that’s a no?” You laughed, tapping his hands off your son in case he woke him up and that’s the last thing you needed.

“Oh, it’s a yes. Just not when this lil’ fellas around.” He kissed Dylan’s head again, not understanding why he had an issue with his son seeing his chest but loved him all the same anyway. You guessed it had something to do with the lustful way he was looking in your eyes, and how he wouldn’t want anyone else in the room for what he’d do to you on a night when you’d gotten so aroused by his bare chest.

There was a knock at the door, stealing your lust-filled moment and bringing you both back to reality, calling Harry to be in position in 3 minutes.

“Work calls.” Harry said, taking your hand and walking you out of the room - once you’d grabbed the baby bag too - and down the hallways to the stage. Once he got there he still kept ahold of your hand as he spoke to you. “Remember, if you need anything, or he needs anything, come get me. Get my attention. Okay?” You nodded in response, even though you knew that wouldn’t be a good idea when he’s mid-performance.

“We love you. Go sing us proud.” You kissed him on the lips softly, still tasting the remanence of cherry bake-well tart on his lips. He tasted so sweet and sugary. It made you happy.

“I love you both, so much.” He kissed you after he’d told you, and then another kiss to Dylan’s head. “Have you got his earphones?” Harry asked, worried, untiled you pulled them out of your bag.

“Here.”

Harry took them from you and placed them over his sons ears. “There y’go lil’ man. Don’t have to listen to daddy sing and shout nonsense now.” He laughed, making you laugh and earning one final kiss on your lips before he was shouted at for not being where he was supposed to be. He kept blowing kisses as he ran away from you and the ones you blew he kept stored in his back pocket.

Harry was so amazing up on stage.

Harry worked his best art up there under the twinkling lights of thousands of fans. It was a pleasure to watch him be so artistic and creative. The note changes were to die for. The harmonies were second to none. The shimmies and dancing were so enjoyable to watch it made your heart swoon. He was simply incredible and you were so proud of him.

You made eye contact with him at one point in the show and he was just checking you two were alright. Dylan was awake now but peaceful, still with his large earphones on. He looked adorable. You kept his face away from the public eye though, as you and Harry tried to protect his identity as much as possible until he was older and could decide for himself how public he wanted to be.

“You okay?” Harry mouthed to you, in which you nodded your head to him knowing he wouldn’t understand you when you’re wearing a mask. You blew him kisses and he caught them all, placing them against his heart and keeping them there forever. Harry sent you some back and the fans screamed, thinking he was sending them to them instead. You pretended to catch them and keep a few for you and gift a few for Harry. He went back to performing shortly after that.

“Here you go,” you pretend to give Harry’s virtual kisses to Dylan, “a gift from my greatest inspiration to my greatest achievement.” You watched as Dylan looked up at you with his big, beady, green eyes and he smiled at you. That single smile alone reminded you of how perfect your life was and would continue to be.

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6mommymilkers9 · 3 years

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I saw the four lords react to s/o being pregnant but how would they react to their child going through a Rebel teenage phase?

The Four Lord's Dealing With Your Rebel Phase Headcannons

Alcina Dimitrescu

° You were a calm child, so it surprised the Lord when you became a teenager and started to act out. It started with exploring forbidden rooms in the castle, even to touching the Cadou experiments in the basement. Eventually, things started to get out of hand for you.

° Once she learned of your misbehavior, she shut that attitude down, and quickly. She may not be able to change how her other children act, but you she wasn't going to let you act the same. You being a human, this behavior wasn't safe for you, especially in the castle.

° She has never actually yelled in anger towards you, but one day, she screamed her lungs out, finding you breaking an ancient vase of hers. Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela were even surprised. They were rebels as well, but never had that type of tone given to them.

° She isn't truly angry at you, but at your phase, knowing it wasn't needed. You knew you fucked up when you heard her, hell, you slightly prayed for God to have mercy on you. Thankfully, after yelling, you only had grounded you, leaving Cassandra in charge of you.

° Cassandra was a big help for you to get out of your rebel phase, allowing you to talk or let your anger out. Hell, she even had The Duke make some board games for you and her to play during your punishment. Time went slow, but at least it wasn't painful, thanks to your sister.

° Alcina kept her motherly tone with you for a while, making sure you didn't make any mistakes that could cause harm to you. Eventually, she will soften towards you, pulling you into a soft hug and small words of affection. She did give a good warning for any future behavior.

Salvatore Moreau

° He deals with his siblings tantrums everyday, he knew this would eventually happen. He may sound dumb, but he was incredibly knowledgeable. He was a doctor after all. Still, he wished this phase wouldn't have hit you. Damn his luck.

° He couldn't do much to stop you, the most he could do was use goo to slow you down or trap you for a few moments, knowing you would break away soon. Not once did he ever yell at you. He didn't have the strength to yell at his only child.

° He always made sure to stop you from doing something stupid, not wanting you to get hurt. The only thing he really didn't care about was you running off the swim late at night. You thought he didn't know of your late night adventures, but he knew immediately what was going on. You were a strong swimmer, he knew you would be fine.

° Eventually, when you would yell at him, him telling you that you couldn't do something, you saw how hurt your father was. He worked his damned best to keep you happy and safe, but this phase really put him on a pedestal. The look he gave you was the same look he would have coming back from a fight with his family.

° This is when you knew you needed to stop. One night, you had knocked on his door, proceeding to have a long talk with Moreau, apologising for your behavior, knowing he was just trying to help you in the end.

° He couldn't help but laugh, just shaking his head at you, ruffling your hair. You, in turn, traded a hug instead, Moreau gladly returning it.

"It's alright, my child. All is forgiven."

Donna Beneviento

° The early stages were quite easy for the soft spoken woman, helping you with homework, emotional support, the whole package. But, those stages were only easy because she had passed experience.

° What she didn't have experience with, is your rebellion. The loud music, the ignorance you radiated, and the absolute attitude you gave off. Even Angie couldn't understand it.

° She started to become a little harsh, giving you more chores, more things to do. Anything to make you focus and not act out like you had been doing. It became clear that wasn't enough, but she had no clue as to what was next.

° This made Donna question herself and her parenting. What had she done wrong for you to act like you hated her? Did she not try hard enough, or did she try too much, pushing you away? It broke her heart, having her think she failed another child.

° You, in your ignorance, didn't see she was upset. One night, taking off your headphones that were blaring, you heard your mother softly crying, even if it was hard to hear. You knew you hadn't been the best kid, but hearing Donna breakdown, it was the final straw.

° Over the next few weeks, you slowly got better, and Angie saw it. It took Donna a while to notice, but as soon as she did, she wore a small smile that you always saw in pictures. It was the little gestures you did that helped her, and in return, taught you that rebelling wasn't all it was cut out to be.

Karl Heisenberg

° Karl has always been a child of rebellion. He expected it out of you any day now. When he saw it, oh boy, he saw how much of a dick teenagers could be. Almost made him think about how he acts.

° He let it not bother him for a good while, well, up until you started to mess his equipment in the factory. He had only one rule, and that was to not touch his equipment. When he heard that loud bang, you could swear looks could kill.

° He would drag you away from the main floors of the factory, having you sit down. He never chewed you out like he did that day, getting an earful. You could've sworn he started to speak anything but human language.

° After that, he put you to work immediately. He wasn't one to not teach a lesson. You hauled metal sheets and bolts every single day. For an average Lord, this didn't bother them. But for you, a simple mortal, it was the worst thing for you.

° The labor was absolutely bullshit, or so you thought. After all the sore muscles and tiredness, you vowed to never touch his stuff again. Once the day came, and the punishment was over, you couldn't help but yell out happily, running past your father and into somewhere with an A/C unit and an ice cold pop.

° Karl couldn't help but chuckle, seeing you free from your 'prison'. That pop was earned and he knew it. Being a father was hard, but he was sure that he had it down. He may be a hard ass towards you, but remember, he loves you dearly. Don't make that mistake again. He always has more work for you to do.

#resident evil 8 #resident evil headcanons #resident evil #resident evil village #donna beneviento x reader #salvatore moreau #salvatore moreau x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #alcina dimitrescu #donna beneviento #karl heisenberg #mother miranda #resident evil x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader

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narutogu · 3 years

Text

Touch Starved

REPOSTED ON MY MAIN NARUTO BLOG BECAUSE IT WASN’T SHOWING UP IN THE TAGS. MORE WRITING TO COME ON @narutogwriting

Pairing: Naruto Uzumaki x Reader

CW: none

Length: 4k+

Inspired by this picture

Requests are Open!

“Naruto?”

Your voice broke out softly through the momentary silence. The wind had been howling almost constantly that night, keeping you wide awake. You weren’t afraid of anything, not really. At twelve years old, you, like many of your friends, had the notion that you were invincible. Nothing could touch you, and you would always come out on top. You would miss that as you grew older, the confidence in yourself and your abilities. The belief that the world was fair, and that the good guys always won.

So it wasn’t really that you were scared of the way the wind screamed, the whistles through the tree leaves or the sporadic loud crashes that came as the wind blew branches and even tree trunks to the ground. Maybe it was the fact that you had experienced the first death of an enemy on a mission.

And maybe it was deserved. He had been a criminal, after all, and you hadn’t delivered the fateful blow; of course not. It had been Kakashi, in a bid to save your life.

So maybe you were scared, or traumatized, or reeling from your innocence being shattered for the very first time. Whatever you felt, you were still too young, too inexperienced, to be able to pinpoint what exactly the distressed tugging of your heart meant.

It was what had dragged you from your own tent to Naruto’s, quietly and nervously. Kakashi was in his own tent, and you had been sharing with Sakura who was fast asleep. Having her by your side did nothing to calm the storm beginning to brew from inside you.

You had opened his tent timidly, doing your best not to startle him awake. He was fast asleep, on his side in fetal position hugging his pillow to him tightly. But when you spoke his name, your voice stirred him even from his deep slumber.

Naruto whispered your name, groggily, confused, but he’d know your voice anywhere.

Yawning, he sat up rubbing at his eyes, peering at you curiously. “What happened?” He asked.

“Can I sleep in here with you?”

If you were brave, then there were no words adequate enough to describe the courage that burned within Naruto’s heart. He was sure of himself, of what he believed. He would do anything to protect the ones he loved. He would do anything for you. You couldn’t think of a safer place than by his side.

“Yeah, of course.”

Relief flooded through you as you dragged your sleeping bag into the tent, fitting it next to his with some distance of course. You were best friends, but you were also twelve. There was something embarrassing about sleeping so close to someone of the opposite gender. But you couldn’t remember a time where you had ever slept more soundly.

And thus a new tradition had been born. For the whole year and a half afterwards, anytime you and Naruto were on a mission together, you shared a tent. Sure some of your friends teased you for it, and whatever jonin leading your team would shoot the two of you knowing looks as if they had some secret knowledge that you and Naruto hadn’t yet discovered.

But for you and Naruto, it was normal, as natural as anything. The two of you already spent all your time by each other’s side—it only made sense that that would include sharing a tent when on missions together.

It was only ever a tent though. It wasn’t like the two of you cuddled or anything. That was just embarrassing! Though you two were now out of the stage of believing in cooties, you were beginning to understand that there were some secret, unspoken rules for the way you were expected to act with the other gender. Ridiculous, arbitrary rules that were as old as time and didn’t account for the complexity that was the gender spectrum, but you didn’t understand any of that just yet.

When Naruto left, you were heartbroken, of course. Shattered even. You’d never known that it could feel like you had a hole in your heart until Naruto had taken part of yours with him. You dreaded the years to come of missing him.

But he had work to do and so did you. Naruto was going to get stronger and there was no way you would be left behind. Every time you missed him, you threw yourself into your training. The years didn’t pass quickly, but you found as time went on you were able to find other things that made you feel more whole even when you weren’t.

And just as suddenly, that void was filled. Blond hair and bright orange clothing filled your vision and kicked your heart up into your throat. You hadn’t expected to see him, but nothing could have made you happier.

You’d worried over the years that when Naruto came home, things would be different. Spending two and a half years apart changed things, and you had grown a lot. But you and Naruto fell into step together like he had never left, and just like that you had your best friend back.

But things had changed, though you weren’t going to admit that. When his blue eyes met yours, your breath stopped. Every time his fingers ran through his hair, it was like you were in another world. Part of you knew things were different, but you were never going to say it out loud. You buried your feelings deep within you, hiding your heart like a secret.

The thing that made you most nervous was when you and Naruto had your first mission together since he’d been back. You, Naruto, Sakura, and Kakashi, just like the mission where you’d first shared a tent. You didn’t know what to say, embarrassed to ask if you would both share a tent like when you were younger. If that had been embarrassing when you were twelve, it was even worse when you were sixteen.

When your team stopped for camp Kakashi went to secure the perimeter and Sakura to gather firewood. You went to work setting up your own tent when you felt Naruto’s presence behind you. You turned to look at him. He was standing there, scratching the back of his head, pink dusting his cheeks as he looked anywhere but at you.

“I didn’t bring a tent…” He admitted sheepishly. “When we were younger, we always shared a tent, and I figured we’d just do that again… I can share with Kakashi, though, if it’s weird. I don’t mean to—”

“Naruto,” You interrupted him with a laugh, though the color on your cheeks now matched his. “Of course we can share a tent.” You told him, turning back to your work as you set it up. “Don’t be weird.” You weren’t sure if it was a message to him or to yourself.

Unlike everything else with Naruto’s return, sleeping by Naruto didn’t feel as natural as it had before. There was a tension, almost palpable, settling in the tent. It was as if there was a string attaching your fingers to his, and the more the string pulled you to him, the closer to your sides you kept your hands. You couldn’t know that he felt it too.

The mission was straight forward and accomplished quickly. As soon as it started, it ended, and your team was heading back to the leaf village, only a days journey away. You would stop around the same area you had the night before, camping for the evening before heading home at daylight. You and Naruto had barely talked the whole way.

That night reminded you of the one when you had first crawled into Naruto’s tent. The wind was roaring making it hard to fall asleep. It was winter this time, however, and you hadn’t accounted for the night being so cold. The clothes you’d chosen to sleep in did nothing to keep in your body’s warmth, and your teeth chattered audibly as you curled into your sleeping bag, back to Naruto.

When your name left his hips, it almost startled you. The two of you had crawled into the tent quietly, not even bothering to say goodnight, the weight of the change in your relationship that you could both feel hanging heavy between you.

“Yeah?” You found yourself saying back, almost too quietly for him to hear. Almost.

“Uh, do you wanna, I dunno, sleep in my sleeping bag with me?” He mumbled, the words coming out fast and bunching together. “It’s just really cold, and I’m afraid that your teeth are going to break from clicking together so hard.” He hoped the joke would make it less weird, that you would feel more comfortable.

The question choked you with something you didn’t have words for, a feeling that bubbled in your stomach, spreading warm and shaky throughout your body.

“Okay.”

You crawled slowly, oh so slowly from your bag to his. He tried to scoot to one side, to make room. He unzipped the bag just a little bit, enough for you to crawl in next to him before he zipped it back up. There wasn’t enough room for you to lay comfortably next to him. Your body was on his just a bit, head by his chest and your arms pressed tightly to your side. You felt frozen with excitement and nerves. This was as close to a boy as you’d ever been.

The silence seemed to go on forever, but it was just a few seconds. Naruto’s arm had been pressed motionless to his sides, but slowly he felt them thaw before wrapping around your body, pressing you to him.

“You can like, hug me, ya know? Or put your arms on me or something. Just to be more comfortable.”

You nodded, your throat dry as you tried to swallow. You unlatched your arms from your body, a hand going up to rest on his chest. It only took a moment or two to get comfortable, to feel like your body fit perfectly into his. Falling asleep in Naruto’s arms, that was the most comfortable you’d ever slept.

The next morning, there wasn’t an awkwardness. It was something else, something sweeter, shyer. The string pulled your fingers closer, and though your hand didn’t touch his, neither did it pull away. You’d never felt so giddy in your life.

If only you knew what it meant to Naruto.

Naruto couldn’t remember one time in his life that he had cuddled with another person. He was sure that he must’ve been held at least occasionally as a baby, but it wasn’t anything he could remember. No one hugged him as he grew, no one tucked him in at night or rocked him to sleep. Once, when he was four, Naruto had found a puppy that got away from its owner. Naruto scooped the small animal up, holding him in his arms. The puppy had licked him affectionately, and Naruto was embarrassed by the fact that the small action had brought him to tears. Iruka’s hand on his head was the first affectionate touch he could remember from another person. He’d thought his heart would burst at that moment. It was nothing compared to what he’d felt getting to hold you while he slept.

He’d heard people say that hugging could lower stress, elevate your mood, even help prevent you from getting sick. He’d never understood it. Naruto had occasionally hugged Sakura and gotten affectionate touches from his sensei as he got older, but sleeping with you was different.

He understood now what the experts meant when they spoke about the benefits of hugging. He could comprehend why romantic relationships were so important to people if they got to touch their partner every day. Cuddling with you that night had Naruto’s head reeling, high off an emotion he didn’t even have a name for. He’d never felt so close to another person, so connected. How had he survived sixteen years without this? How had he survived those two and a half years training without you?

It was a mix of emotions as your head hit your pillow that night. You were relieved to have been able to take a shower. A home cooked meal never tasted so good as it did after a mission where you survived off dried meats. The softness of your mattress definitely beat the cold hard ground. But, you realized, you would gladly spend a lifetime sleeping on the floor of the woods if you got to sleep by Naruto’s side.

It was too scary to think about these new feelings. You knew what it was now, that you didn’t just see Naruto as your best friend. You liked Naruto. Maybe even more than liked him. You didn’t know how this could have happened. How could you ever face him again? If he knew how you felt, your friendship would be ruined.

You had resolved to avoid him for the foreseeable future so that you could wait out the feelings. Maybe if you had some time apart, the feelings would go away, and nothing would have to change between the two of you.

Your eyes had finally started to flutter closed with exhaustion when you heard tapping on your window, startling you. Sitting up, you looked uncertainly towards the window before finally getting up and going to inspect the noise. Naruto’s face peering back at you from the other side was the last thing you expected to see.

Opening the window as quietly as you could, you willed the butterflies in your stomach to quell. “Naruto, what are you doing here?” You whispered, glancing back towards your bedroom door, sure that your parents would burst through at any moment.

Naruto looked sheepishly back at you, a bashful grin on his face. “Sorry, did I wake you?” He asked. Rolling your eyes, you did your best to bite back the giddy smile playing on your own lips.

“Yes, Naruto. I’m trying to sleep. What are you doing here?” You asked him again. Instead of answering, Naruto began climbing through your window, making a little too much noise. You shushed him with a stifled giggle as he fell to the floor. “You’re going to wake my parents,” You told him, trying to look stern. Naruto hopped back up to his feet looking at you embarrassedly.

“I couldn’t sleep��” He admitted, his eyes flickering from yours back to the floor. “I was wondering… Do you think I could sleep here tonight?”

The question hung between the two of you, innocent and unassuming. It wasn’t that weird, the two of you were thinking. You shared a tent on missions; was it that different sharing a bed?

“Yeah, okay.” You agreed, feeling breathless. Naruto was in his pajamas too, you realized, decked in a white t shirt and orange sweats. You turned from him, walking slowly to your bed, doing your best not to make any noise. “You have to leave before my parents are up, okay?” You whispered as you climbed back into your bed.

Naruto nodded enthusiastically, following after you. “I will, believe it!” He said a little too loudly for someone that wasn’t supposed to be there. You shot him a look, though you couldn’t help but smile.

Climbing into the bed after you, Naruto got comfortable under the covers, and the two of you laid next to each other silently. Staring at the ceiling, you wondered if Naruto could hear the sound of your heartbeat as it rang in your ears. This was fine. This was normal for two best friends.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there, more awake than you had been before. You closed your eyes, doing your best to get some rest and failing miserably. You were too aware of Naruto’s presence beside you. He seemed to have fallen asleep long ago if his rhythmic breathing was anything to go by.

And then, suddenly, you felt him rolling over. His hand reached out in the darkness, finding you and pulling you flush against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you to him before his body went still again. You froze, looking up at his face. Was he awake? Had he meant to do that? It was impossible to tell with his eyes screwed shut.

You felt alive, truly alive, for the first time in your life. Nothing had ever felt so right.

The next morning, as promised, Naruto was back out the window before your parents woke up. The two of you had stayed in that position all night, and when Naruto began to shift awake, he looked at you with a shy, lopsided smile. All he said was a quiet “good morning” before he was sneaking out.

And there was no way to hide now that things had definitely changed. It was unspoken, but you both knew it. Neither of you knew what to say about it, didn’t know if you even should say anything about it. It wasn’t bad. It was good, better than good, but so new and unexplored for the both of you that you didn’t know how to approach the subject, so you said nothing about it.

It became a regular occurrence for Naruto to climb through your window every night to sleep in your bed. Each time he did, it became easier for Naruto to pull you into him as he fell asleep, and every morning when he left, you wondered how you had ever slept without Naruto’s arms around you.

All of your friends noticed the change between you and Naruto too, though no one said anything. They all exchanged curious glances with each other, seeing how easily Naruto touched you now and the way the two of you looked at each other just a little bit longer than you used to. But no one knew about your and Naruto’s extended sleepover, and so they all whispered among themselves, but said nothing about it to your faces.

When your parents decided to move back to the village that you had been born in, they gave you the option to stay in the leaf. You were only sixteen, but you were a ninja afterall. You were more than capable of making your own choices and taking care of yourself.

And of course you stayed. This was where your life was, where your friends were. Even more importantly, this was where Naruto was.

So when you told him your predicament, that you needed to find a new place to stay, he didn’t hesitate in offering to stay with him. You were sitting at his kitchen table when he said it, and he immediately began pushing things around the small apartment. “You see? We can put your bed here, and can move this over here…” He motioned to the space he had created. “It may be a little cramped, but at least until you can find something else?”

Of course your friends teased the two of you about your new living arrangements. Never when you were together. Everyone was insistent, desperate to be the one that got one of you to cave and admit your feelings for each other. For your part, you just smiled and said, “He’s my best friend.”

And that flew for a while. The same people that had been sure you and Naruto were meant to be began to wonder if they had it wrong all along, began to wonder if you and Naruto truly were just friends.

They didn’t know that you never got around to getting your own bed at Naruto’s house. That first night, you just shared his bed because you’d been doing it for so long. The same thing happened the next night, and the night after that, and the thought of getting a separate bed just didn’t seem that important. And anyways, you’d gotten used to sleeping by Naruto’s side. Naruto knew that if you got your own bed, he would just climb into yours every night.

You were only sixteen, but Naruto wanted nothing more than to spend every night by your side. He couldn’t remember a time in his life where he’d ever been so happy. There was so much on his mind all the time, the oncoming war, getting Sasuke back. And even with the chaos surrounding him, Naruto was at peace because of you. He had a confidence that everything would work out okay. He couldn’t imagine a scenario in which it wouldn’t.

It was the first time that Sakura and Ino had stopped by since you’d moved in that it was pointed out how unconventional your arrangement was. Sure, you both knew it wasn’t exactly normal, but it worked for the two of you. You didn’t see any harm in it.

Naruto was away on a mission when the girls had stopped by, needing to borrow something. When you let them in, they excitedly looked around the small studio apartment, wanting to see if and how you had changed Naruto’s place.

“Uh, where’s the other bed?” Sakura asked as you closed a cupboard, pulling out the tupperware they needed.

“Hm?” You asked, placing it on the table. “Oh, I haven’t gotten one yet. We usually just share.” You said it as if it were the most normal thing in the world. You’d shared your bed with Naruto so long, it no longer embarrassed you. You’d just never had a reason to mention it.

Sakura and Ino’s jaws dropped. They looked from you to each other, wondering if you were serious. You picked up on their shock, looking back at them sheepishly. “What?” You mumbled, feeling your face heating up.

“Are you guys, like, dating?” Ino placed her hand on her hip, looking at you expectedly. You shook your head.

“No, of course not. He’s my best friend! I just haven’t gotten my own bed yet. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal!?” Sakura exclaimed. “It’s a huge deal! You guys live together, share a bed together… you’re practically married!”

Ino nodded in agreement. “Sakura’s right. That’s a weird thing for two ‘best friends’ to be doing. It’s not normal.”

Sakura and Ino’s words rang through your head all day after they’d gone. Was it that weird? Sure, the whole thing had been nerve wracking at first, but now it was just part of your dynamic like everything else was. Of course you still harbored your feelings for Naruto, but you’d pushed them deep down, pretending they weren’t there in a bid to save your and Naruto’s friendship.

You were already in bed when he got back from his mission that night. He threw open the door, dropping his bag and sighing loudly. “Are you awake?” He called as he made his way to the bathroom.

“I am now,” You laughed, rolling your eyes as you heard the shower start. You yawned, your body tired despite how awake your mind was. It was a while longer before Naruto was finally ready to settle in for the night.

With a loud yawn, he dropped down on the bed beside you, stretching. “I missed this,” he said, turning over as he pulled the blankets over the two of you. He reached for you instinctively, a happy sigh leaving his lips as you cuddled into his chest.

But Naruto knew you better than anyone, and he could tell something was on your mind. “Everything okay?” He murmured against your hair, moments from falling asleep.

“Is this weird?” You asked him timidly, afraid to hear his answer.

Naruto froze for a moment before pulling away slightly, just enough so he could look down at you. “Is what weird?” He asked back slowly.

You shrugged. “Sakura and Ino stopped by today. They saw we share a bed and… I don’t know. They said it wasn’t normal.” You were afraid to voice the thought, but you couldn’t help it. The seed had been planted, and it wouldn’t stop growing.

But Naruto just rolled his eyes in response. “You’re gonna listen to them?” He asked with a small laugh. “What do they know about normal?”

“They said it was only normal for people that were, like, in a relationship. Not people that were just friends…”

Naruto was quiet, and you could tell he was mulling over the information, no doubt wondering--much like you were--if they had a point. He pulled away even more, and you could see in the moonlight that he was blushing. “Are we just friends?”

The words hit you like a freight train, knocking the breath straight from your lungs. You weren’t ready for this conversation. Things had been going so well, you’d been so happy and comfortable. You weren’t ready for things between you and Naruto to change, not yet. But now you didn’t have a choice.

“Do you want to be?” You whispered back.

The silence lingered, heavy and suffocating. You felt ready to cry. You loved Naruto. You didn’t want to keep it a secret any longer, but you didn’t want to lose him either. If he didn’t feel the same way… You didn’t know what you’d do. You couldn’t think of anything any more devastating.

Reluctantly, you brought your eyes up to meet Naruto’s brilliant blue ones. They were staring earnestly into yours, searching for an answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked. Slowly, shakily, he brought his hand up to your face, brushing your hair back. His touch was soft, barely there, and it sent shivers up your spine.

Finally, he leaned in to you, bringing his lips to brush against yours in a sweet, shy kiss. The motion was unsure, nervous. He’d been dying to do that for months now, and he had no idea how you would react.

Naruto’s kiss sent your head reeling. You’d always thought that kissing Naruto would send your heart racing, but instead it slowed, calming every nerve in your body.

When Naruto pulled away, he was wearing a grin that matched yours. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long…” He told you, stroking your cheek. You could only smile in response, pulling him in to kiss you once more

Naruto had gone his whole life touch starved and alone. Affection was so scarce, he hadn’t even known what he was missing.

Sharing a bed, sleeping next to you, kissing you goodnight. It wasn’t scary or unsure.

It felt like coming home.

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