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blackbat05 · 3 years

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I need a break

Shangqi x Reader (Platonic)

A/N: I feel like I’m loosing steam towards the end of my placement and wow I have never needed a break this badly before. Perhaps a short Shangqi x Reader imagine where they are both University students. Seriously at this rate I’ll just be solely a Shangqi writer HAHAHA. Doing this on my phone because I don’t want to open my work computer. Let’s see where this impromptu idea takes me to. Hope you enjoy it and as always like and comment if you wish!

Genre: PG-13

Warnings: None really, just friends supporting each other! I guess there’s an inaccurate timeline if you look at the MCU but hey this is an imagine plus if you look at some of the wiki pages, Shangqi is actually born in 1998/1999. So appreciate if you’re kind enough to go with the flow to read this comfort fic!

‘Y/N!’ Shangqi rushes to catch up with you after class. You made an effort to conceal your tiredness but he saw it right through. ‘Gosh…you alright?’

You think to yourself. Were you really alright? The answer was pretty obvious. You were ten weeks into your placement and your emotions were a jumbled up mess. Having to deal with work responsibilities was one problem, school assignments were another issue all together. At this point, you felt like you were just getting through each week for the sake of it.

At first, you believed that what you were going through was simply a transition to becoming an adult. You thought that naturally, you would be able to persevere through the stressful periods by yourself. But of course, it has been hard.

You were a social work intern at a neighborhood youth centre, thirty minutes away if you took the train and bus. The work was fulfilling in it’s own ways, but recently there were self-doubts filling your brain, if you were really cut out for the job in the future. If you weren’t, what else could you do?

As you sat with Shangqi in the school’s student-ran cafe, you found yourself pouring out the exact same concerns to him. Credit to him, Shangqi never interrupted your monologue, he just simply listened. That’s what best friends were for. That’s what you did for him to when he ran into issues with his family.

Even then, he couldn’t deny that hearing you doubt yourself broke his heart. He had known you since high school. You mostly kept to yourself and one or two close friends. Despite joining the school’s athletic team where you were one of the main athletes, you preferred to stay in the shadows unlike some of your teammates. That didn’t stop you from going out of your way to help other students in need; like helping the girl who was in an arm cast to copy the social studies notes, even if it meant you had to do it twice. Or maybe just talking to a friend who was stressed out about their results.

Basically, you had studied your ass off to get a secured spot at this university who were only one of the few that offered the degree. He remembers you telling him the moment you got your offer, ‘I’m finally good at something. I don’t have to worry anymore!’

Shangqi wasn’t stupid. The pandemic had done some crazy things. And by crazy, it affected the self-esteem that you had been working so hard on by participating in various projects and events, with you being in charge of a drama production that was promoting on mental health. That was a big deal considering that you were a major introvert.

Online engagement was never easy. In fact he has heard some of your struggles that you’ve shared with him regarding this and it only makes him admire you even more. For someone who preferred to keep to themselves, stepping out of one’s comfort zone, to take on a role that wasn’t just simply about helping people - that took guts.

‘I’m sorry I’m just loading you with all this. I just feel…’ You trailed off, suddenly becoming emotional again. Again, Shangqi does not pry. ‘That I can’t do anything right.’ You emphasize that you had ended the statement for you were unsure that you could keep your cool if you had tried to continue on.

‘If I hear you saying sorry another time,’ he chides, ‘you’re paying for our meal later.’ Your lips curved upwards slightly before returning to its somber position. Shangqi decides that a meal won’t cut it. He needs to deploy ‘Operation Y/N’. Standing up with your buzzer to collect the food, Shangqi whips out his phone. There will be a few changes for today.

Food was definitely a cure in this situation, but it was only a part of the solution. After inhaling your ramen at light speed, Shangqi tells you that today will be a different Friday. ‘And you can’t complain! It’ll be a weekend tmr,’ he tells you. So why not? You figured that even if you went back home early, your head wouldn’t be in the right place to complete the essay for your English module.

‘Hold up! The VR studio that Katy was talking about?’ You look at the tickets inside the taxi that was taking you and Shangqi to the location. ‘How did you even, it was so hard to get these tickets!’ From the time Shangqi met you outside the classroom, he had yet to see you so ecstatic. Until now.

‘Well,’ Shangqi gives his best shrug. ‘I called in a favor from a friend. Said that it was for emergency purposes.’ He raised his fingers to make connotations in the air much to your amusement.

‘Wow… just how much do I not know about you Mr Popular?’ You teased. Shangqi decides to leave the fact on him having to persuade the Wakandan Princess in giving him free tickets.

‘Please! I swear whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it! It’s for Y/N!’

‘Ey well why didn’t you say so? If it’s for that nice friend, of course!’ Shuri leaves the entrance of the compound, an exasperated Shangqi trailing behind.

Yeah, the VR studio that Katy told them about was also funded by King T’Challa himself. With stunning life like visuals thanks to Wakandan technology, the VR studio was located in a middle class neighborhood. T’Challa believed that no matter where kids came from, they should have the right to enjoy and to explore the world. For now, he wasn’t ready to share that he was on the way on becoming a full-fledged Avenger yet - you just had too much on your plate. He’ll just have to settle with this white lie.

‘Is Katy coming?’ You were on the verge of vibrating off your seat. ‘She would love this place!’ Even when you were struggling, Y/N still manages to think about other people. Today, Y/N will put her needs first.

As if to answer your previous question, you can see an equally excited Katy waiting for the two of you at the roundabout. ‘HEL-LO EVERYONE! LET’S GET OUR FRIDAY STARTED IN PROPER SHALL WE?’ Her loud voice had attracted stares, some very displeased looks too but at this point in time, you didn’t give a damn. Katy was right, it was time to enjoy!

You wished that you could slow down time, or even replay it continuously when you needed cheering up because the only thing you felt was pure happiness - euphoria even. Your stomach was in knots for laughing hysterically together with Katy when Shangqi jumped in shock from a surprise scare from a zombie. ‘I’m keeping that for leverage,’ she tells you, quietly slipping her phone into her fanny pack.

The Wakandans had really outdone themselves this time. Your favorite VR was the paradise VR. Slipping the headgear, you say goodbye to the smiles of Katy and Shangqi, whisking away to a beach that oddly reminded you of your dream destination - Hawaii. From where you were standing, you were surrounded by green and majestic islands. Despite their sheer size, you weren’t intimidated. In fact, you were healing.

Your mind was no longer in the room of the VR studio. How could it when the sun kissed your skin, giving you the much needed energy that you were lacking for so long? In the room, the two sees you kick your shoes to the side, going barefoot. It may have seem strange, but with the monitor beside you, your actions were perfectly logical.

As a kid, you used to despise the prickly feeling of sand in between your toes. But now, you grew to love the sensation that each grain of sand had on your skin. It made you feel grounded, that everything was going to be ok. You raise your virtual hand to touch your face - were you crying?

‘She must have been really stressed huh?’ Katy whispers to Shangqi who nods in return. How he hated the fact that you were giving so much to your work but still felt underappreciated. Forget the Avengers with superhuman abilities, you were the true MVP. The VR ends and you remove your headgear. ‘I’m ok,’ you automatically reassure them despite the dry tears left on both cheeks. You step down the platform slowly, trying to regain sense of the real world.

What you didn’t expect was the two embracing you in a hug, squishing you in between them. Maybe that had set off the waterworks. For someone like Katy, she had sage advice.

‘Life can be pretty shitty right? But I’m so proud of you fighting it Y/N. Just remember that it’s ok to be weak. I mean, I’ve seen worse from Shangqi,’ she jabs her finger towards his direction, earning a glare from him. That’s Katy, always trying to add a bit of humor to this grey world. Calming down, you let go of the both of them. ‘Thanks guys, for everything.’

‘Hey,’ Shangqi responds, slinging his arm over your shoulder. ‘We’re friends, so we don’t leave each other behind.’ Phone beeping, he retrieves it to check the message. ‘And look at that, nice timing. Who wants Korean BBQ?’

Trailing behind them, you get an amusing view of Shangqi bickering with Katy on how many Soju bottles she’s allowed to order later. As San Francisco welcomed the night, you were just thankful that you had the two of them to walk through this crazy maze called life.

‘Last one to the shop is paying!’

‘Oh you’re on Mister!’

A/N: I really just think that this was also an imagine for me to cope too. So I can only hope to finish my placement/assignments/exams well! To anyone who does studies and work simultaneously, I fucking respect you (allow me to use expletives for now, these people deserve the respect). If you’re going through a stressful time, I hope this brings the slightest comfort for you and remember… YOU ARE NOT ALONE! Again, thank you for reading!

#shang chi #xu shangqi #shangqi x reader #shangqi imagine #katy shang chi #shang chi x reader #shangqi #simu liu

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xlady-saya · 4 years

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someday there won’t be scowls [fic]

Relationships: aaron and neil, andrew/neil, aaron/katelyn

Summary: Neil finds that even with his mind's best efforts to hang onto the wounds of the past, his opinion of Aaron just isn't what it used to be. He can thank Andrew and Katelyn for a lot of it, but his own observations certainly help.

When he sees Aaron like this, the mix of worry and adoration on his face as he thinks of Katelyn, Neil can't help but feel too exposed himself.

It's a start.

Tags: neil and aaron bonding this time y’all, the usual fluff, references to canon violence

Read on ao3!

Contrary to popular belief, Aaron had not been drunk when he lost his phone.

No, no. He's just an idiot.

A couch cushion hits the coffee table as Neil rounds the corner, nearly knocking over a stray glass of water Nicky had furiously gulped down before disappearing to some party.

Neil watches it wobble. It's a needed pause, because he's not quite sure what to do.

He's not necessarily shocked to find Aaron here in their dorm. Now that he and Andrew aren't at each other's throats, the other twin is often around, either playing videogames or studying. It's the small concessions; the twins don't always talk, but the calm presence has done wonders for them. Especially in those first few months, the exposure did just as much as the therapy sessions.

It had been worth it. Even with having to feel Aaron eyeing Neil warily for months...Neil wouldn't take it back. It's because of those tense afternoons that they can all go on Katelyn's outings without a fight breaking out.

Besides that...Aaron does his best not to say anything too cutting, and it's good for Andrew. The slow acceptance, the effort, on both their parts.

At the thought, Neil smiles to himself. Andrew would never admit it, but having to war between his need to protect Neil while still looking out for his brother had been stressful with Aaron constantly antagonizing him.

These days, Andrew has been more relaxed, lighter. While Neil knows it's not all because of Aaron, their growing relationship is a huge part of it. Neil would never get in the way of that, so the sight of Aaron isn't unwelcome. Still, it's rare for him to be here without Andrew.

That's the bridge Neil has yet to cross, and doesn't really believe he has to. He and Aaron don't have to be friends for them to have Andrew's best interest at heart.

Aaron seems to agree.

He tends to avoid Neil when he can, or all the time really. Neil can't help but smirk at that; he’s certainly made it difficult for him, being friends with Katelyn and all.

It's not intentional, but it's too late to stop.

Vaguely, Neil remembers Matt planning a romantic night with Dan, and well...it explains why Aaron is here. He believes Nicky used the term 'sexiled,' which at the time was hilarious to Neil. When told by Kevin to 'shut up,' he simply employed the tactic later that night.

Served him right.

Another pillow flies to the floor, and Neil tracks it like a cat. He debates his next move.

Deep down, he already knows Aaron will do shit to help clean this up, and his frown deepens.

Normally, he'd turn himself back around into the bedroom, curl up with Andrew's hoodie and listen in on whatever exy podcast Kevin is listening to, but...

He probably can't leave Aaron like this, partly from curiosity, and partly because he's supposed to care.

He does care, he just sometimes wishes he didn't.

Neil dodges a flying plushie (a gift from Allison) swiftly, leaning against the door frame as he observes Aaron's frantic search for...whatever he's looking for. The twin looks two seconds from pulling his hair out when he finally spots Neil, and for all their progress, this part never seems to change.

Aaron's posture goes rigid the same time Neil stops breathing, their staredown freezing them both in place. It's habit after many, many fights. Neil waits for Aaron to say something insulting, to insinuate something about him and Andrew, and Neil's already mentally preparing for the retort. He knows the same is probably true for Aaron, except in his case he's prepared for lies and manipulation to fly out of Neil's mouth.

Or a fist to the face.

They expect the worst from each other, still. It's hard to break the cycle, especially with their history, and Neil stands stone-faced as Aaron squints at him.

Neil is stubborn, and he's not one to give up, another reason Aaron can't stand him. It just makes Neil embrace the trait more.

Knowing this, Aaron breaks first, sighing heavily at their own ridiculousness. They're supposed to be better, they shouldn't need Andrew to buffer, but Neil still wishes he was here.

Aaron grabs another pillow, seemingly just to have something to do with his hands, and scoffs.

Ah, so that's how this is gonna go.

"Make yourself useful and call my phone," Aaron orders, because he can't not have some of the old loathing in their conversation. Neil is fine with that; a nice Aaron would be creepy.

He's not ready to deal with it.

"I dunno where my phone is," Neil says with a shrug Aaron can't see, and it's the truth. Why Aaron expects anything more from him is his own fault.

Neil hides a laugh in his palm; it sounds like something Andrew would say, accompanied by the crunch of teeth on a lollipop.

"Typical," Aaron mutters, digging through the couch once again. He fusses with his hair, fingers itching from the stress. It's similar to when Andrew needs a cigarette, but Neil knows Aaron's poison.

Yet, there's no beer in sight, and Aaron doesn't seem to be moving to get one. It's odd enough to have Neil committed.

"What's the big deal?" He finally asks in the silence, walking forward to lean against the armrest and effectively blocking Aaron's search efforts. The blond's eye twitches from the harshness of the glare.

Good thing Neil is immune.

But again Aaron surprises him; the scowl doesn't last, the rare mask of defeat washing over Aaron's face. It's like the glare doesn't have a chance, can't possibly stay locked in when Aaron's thoughts are so opposite to the feeling of contempt. Before he even speaks her name, Neil has a feeling it's about her.

"Katelyn went out to a party," Aaron says, clearing his throat. Neil almost wants to laugh; Aaron is so terrible at keeping the affection from his tone. It's the opposite of Andrew, who can't keep it from his actions. "I wanna be available if she needs me, or just to know she's okay."

Some of the tension leaves Neil's shoulders. He understands in a few ways; while he and Andrew aren't the most frequent texters, they do let each other know their locations, and lately...

Well, lately Neil has noticed Andrew uses text to convey some of the things he can't in person. There's no grand confessions or love notes by any means. Andrew is still Andrew; there's just a new layer of vulnerability between the lines, inflections which Andrew's monotone would not allow. Neil's heart flutters, uncaged.

But in another sense, he's argued with Katelyn about this before.

They'd been having lunch one day without the twins, and Katelyn tearily confessed to asking Aaron not to drink some nights.

And well, that's what Neil deserved for seeing Katelyn as someone predictable, easy to read. He'd been sucker punched by that confession, but Katelyn's guilt drove her to ramble. She always framed it with an excuse of some kind she said; the vixens wanted to try a new club in a sketchy part of town, she was feeling paranoid because of exams, she'd had a fight with her parents, etc.

And Aaron, so devoted, never backed down from one of the promises. Neil had been impressed, watching Aaron dutifully drink sodas at Eden's instead of taking his shots from the endless trays.

Katelyn's worries about Aaron's addiction problems spurred the situation at hand, and Neil nearly made Katelyn sob from how against it he'd been. Not necessarily because it wasn't a concern, but due to the lack of trust.

No matter how Neil feels about Aaron, he knows Katelyn is his beacon. He'll do anything for her.

So, the least Katelyn can do, as someone with no gritty past or things to hide, is be honest with her boyfriend. Neil told her as such, not holding back. It wouldn't be an easy conversation, but one day she'd need to have it.

Aaron had yet to break her trust or lose control again, so Katelyn's betrayal of that sent Neil on a verbal onslaught.

Of course, Katelyn didn't take it personally. Something about Neil telling it like it is...

"It's why I tell you anything at all," she sniffled that day, her smile shaky.

Neil's never been known for being gentle, but perhaps he should've tried it. That, or Katelyn's still just working up to confronting this problem.

Tonight, she fell back on a bad habit. Hopefully, she comes back with something to show for it.

Aaron collapses into one of the beanbags on the floor, fed up with his search for the moment. The lines of tension and internal strife are all over his face, Neil nearly tells him to stop being so open about it.

But well, Neil blames himself for a lot too. It's easy to do, to imagine the worst case scenario, to already see something as his fault even when it hasn't happened yet.

He gets it. For once, he's annoyed he can't call Aaron's phone, but his could be anywhere. He winces to himself; he hopes Andrew doesn't find out.

"She's okay," Neil says, sinking slowly into the beanbag across from Aaron. From the way the twin raises his head, he's just as shocked as Neil is at the concession. Neil has always been spectacularly bad at the accepted forms of comfort. Maybe because a lot of the time they're a waste. But, he tries.

His foxes taught him hope, and he can't take the lessons for granted.

Besides, he's sure Katelyn is fine. And not his apparent definition of fine. More than fine, probably tipsy and gossiping about that one guy from chem class.

That's as far as his comforting skills go. Aaron waits for him to say something more, but Neil tucks his knees up to his chest, guarding himself.

Aaron frowns, but his eyes drift to the floor, rationalizing through it. The medical student in him kicks in, the one who is all statistics without room for paranoia, and he relaxes with a nod.

"Yeah," Aaron whispers into the awkward silence. "I hope she's having fun."

Jeez.

Okay, maybe Neil should've kept the conversation going. Katelyn and Andrew are safe topics, because they both have a lot of good things to say about them. It takes them off more dangerous paths, like the one they're currently on, sitting in silence and waiting for the other to snap.

'You don't have to be here,' the Andrew in his head critiques, unhelpfully. Mostly because it's the truth, he could abandon Aaron here and save himself from the weighted quiet, marred with tension and mistrust.

However, it frustrates Neil to no end, how he and Aaron seem incapable of having a conversation. Aaron is family, Andrew's family, blood which hasn't been poisoned by heavy hands and abuse. Neil should probably be able to carry a conversation with him.

He's sure Aaron's not thrilled about it, but the truth is, Neil plans to be around a long time. Andrew can say he doesn’t care as much as he wants, but ultimately, Neil knows he does.

Aaron regards him with a stony expression, perhaps feeling the same itch in his veins, the need to show he's improved as Andrew's brother.

Aaron clears his throat. "So, where's Andrew?"

Neil rolls his eyes. What the fuck was that?

But at least he's no longer in charge of making the first move.

"Eden's," Neil mumbles, pulling at the strings of his hoodie.

He doesn't expect Aaron's head to snap up, suddenly more awake as he straightens in his seat. There's a look on his face, Neil can't quite pin it down. Staring too long at Aaron freaks him out sometimes.

It's not often Aaron looks even a hair similar to Andrew in Neil's eyes, but the intensity shining there is hard to miss.

If he had to guess, he'd say it's suspicion.

"Eden's? Alone?" Aaron asks, and Neil doesn't know what to think. Aaron wasn't planning on drinking anyways, so who cares?

Under the scrutiny, Neil fidgets.

"Mhm," Neil hums, which only seems to draw Aaron's brows tighter together. "He said he had something to take care of."

At the wording, Neil bites back a smile. What sounds like secret-keeping to most people is more of a gift to Neil, something to wait for, something worth it.

"I need to talk to Roland," Andrew says, tangled up in the sheets with Neil. It had been a good day, Andrew pressed close and not crawling out of his skin to have space. It'll wear off eventually Neil knows, and soon Andrew will be forced to separate them slowly, pushing Neil to his side of the bed.

Still facing each other, still close.

Neil plays with the chain around Andrew's neck, tracing the metal cigarette at the end of it.

He feels the small font, can almost make out the words by touch alone...

"Neil," Andrew says again, firmer, and Neil's eyes shoot up. The fact Andrew's eyes are still so bright in the dark sends a shiver down Neil's spine.

Neil smiles sheepishly, but catches the lines of tension in Andrew's frame. He almost looks angry, but Neil's not sure who it's directed at. The storm locked in his expression swirls in a mixture of tension and consideration, trying to pick out any sign of discomfort in Neil.

Immediately, Neil's eyes narrow, heart cold. "What did he do?"

And well, he likes Roland, but if he's done anything to upset Andrew then...

Neil won't stop until he does something about it, and he tastes copper on his tongue before he can help himself.

But, the sight of a genuine threat in Neil's eyes actually softens Andrew's posture. Weird, how Andrew always finds the murder beneath Neil's calm facade to be a comfort. Andrew scoffs, fingers finally itching for a cigarette. Nerves. "Nothing. I just need to settle something."

And like that, Neil can see Andrew's not talking about a confrontation, and it settles Neil's own anxiety.

He's intrigued, but he knows Andrew well enough to understand it's not an invitation to pry. It's confirmed when Andrew turns back to him, a vow creasing his expression before the words leave his mouth. "Later."

'I'll tell you later.'

Neil sighs, content beyond measure. Yeah, okay.

And the words feel like a key, pressed hot into Neil's palm.

Aaron's voice brings him back to the present.

"Aren't you worried?" The twin says, incredulous. His eyebrows are in his hairline, like he can't fathom how big of an idiot Neil is. Something hot and ugly begins to simmer in Neil's blood. Andrew trusts Neil to believe in him, to let him know there's something itching at him and he needs time to get all the words together.

"Why?" He bites out; he doesn't like this, doesn't like the intrusion, the assumption he can sense coming. Neil knew enough that night with Andrew to guess that whatever Andrew needed from Roland was a vulnerable subject. And if he's being truthful, Andrew has been a bit off kilter all week. The anger he'd seen in Andrew's body had been at himself.

It means the blond is mulling something over, which he only ever does with the important things, because if he gets it wrong...

He doesn't want to get it wrong, not when it involves Neil.

It had probably taken a lot for Andrew to even admit to Neil he needed to go.

Neil doesn't take kindly to Aaron's old biases rearing their ugly heads. He thought Aaron stopped seeing Andrew as an uncaring asshole months ago. Guess he was wrong.

Aaron locks his knees together, searching for words which make him sound less awful. The search comes up short. "Well...he used to...hook up there, you know?"

Neil's knuckles crack from how hard he tightens them.

He can't kill Aaron. He knows that. Yes.

"I know--" He pauses to keep the sneer down. It's for nothing, since the viciousness leaks into his tone. Aaron's face falls in an instant, ashamed. Good. "I do trust Andrew you know? Don't you?"

Aaron opens his mouth quickly at the jab, but well, Neil's temper hasn't gotten any better. In true bitterness, he goes for what Aaron cares about, because he's never hesitated before. "Are you worried about Katelyn hooking up with someone at whatever bar she's at?"

Going for Katelyn is a cheap trick, but effective. It's always gotten a reaction in the past, normally violent and loud. He expects Aaron to jump out of his seat, to lunge for him. It's how he deserves to feel, an insinuation that his person, the one he'd do anything for, would go behind his back.

What he doesn't expect is for Aaron to freeze, for his jaw to fall open in quiet shock. The lack of answer is deafening. Neil's eyes widen, ever perceptive to the ugliness in people. It's so stupid, how he can't read so much about others, can't tread lightly with their sadness or embarrassment. It makes for awkward encounters, tactless comments. He has no idea how to read a mood, a room. Hell, he had no idea Andrew felt anything for him before Roland exposed the truth, and it had been going on for months.

But here, seeing the shame and insecurity in Aaron's features, it's so obvious it's laughable.

The silence envelops them again, heavy with a confession Aaron did not mean to give him.

Neil breathes in sharply, and some of his anger drains out of him. "Oh."

At that, Aaron's expression tightens, tone like a slap. "Shut up! I know it's ridiculous."

But not surprising. Aaron has only recently started to have good things in his life, not unlike Andrew. His possessiveness and wary attitude aren't exactly things he hides well. According to Andrew, Aaron's bouts of jealousy are pitiful.

Neil narrows his eyes right back.

"No," Neil says, before backtracking. "Well, yes, but it's mostly insulting."

It's a blow that lands; Aaron flinches from it. He has to know why.

Neil stands his ground; Katelyn's loyalty rivals Neil's own. He even got Andrew to acknowledge it, back when he was poking fun at how similar Bee thought he and Katelyn were. It's not fair for Aaron to be doubting her, when she's given him so much without hesitation. There was nothing but support from her during the trial, during the tumultuous months of therapy between him and Andrew.

Katelyn tries to bridge so many of the harsh gaps in Aaron's life, and trusts Aaron to do the same with her.

Neil may not be good with people, but he thinks he's spent enough time with Katelyn to know she'd never be unfaithful.

He almost can't fathom the extent of Aaron's hopelessness if he really believes she would be. If Katelyn knew...

Aaron sighs, burying his face in his hands. "No that's--It's not that I really think she would okay? It's just..." Aaron chews on his bottom lip, trying not to mess up the words. He can't be as careful, as deliberate, when it comes to these things. The fact he's even telling Neil this at all...Neil doesn't get it. He and Aaron aren't close, he doesn't even think he'd call him a friend. That's how much Katelyn means to him though, he can't have even Neil misunderstand those feelings. "I get scared sometimes and my brain thinks stupid shit, I know it's...I'm trying to be rational."

Rational.

It feels a lot like a crutch, like something Aaron is trying to convince himself of.

It feels a lot like 'I hate you' or 'there is no this.'

There's nothing rational about any of it.

Aaron will feel how he feels, the most important thing is how he expresses it. From how Katelyn smiles and swoons whenever Aaron looks at her, Neil knows he's done a good job of making sure Katelyn knows nothing about his deep doubts. Just like how Aaron knows nothing of hers when it comes to his drinking.

For her, the jealousy is just that, cute and harmless. It's not hiding dark doubts.

Neil leans back, contemplating. Comfort isn't his goal, at least he doesn't think so. Even still, the words tumble out. Kinda like a cheer move, but way less peppy and enjoyable. "Katelyn isn't the type to be with you unless she really likes you. While I don't get your appeal, and you're a grade A asshole, I never hear her stop telling me how happy you make her. Stop being pathetic."

He sounds like Andrew again he realizes.

'Stop letting it bother you or deal with it.'

From how Aaron glares, he probably thinks the same. Neil smirks.

"It's not so easy you know," Aaron grits out, fuming, and Neil worries he might leave the beanbag deformed from how hard he's twisting his hands in it. "I love her. Imagining it ending is hard, thinking of not having her around is unbearable. After everything...I just always think of the worst case scenario. Surely you have to get it."

Aaron doesn't manage to keep the sneer off his face for the last bit, and like that, Neil knows he doesn’t mean general paranoia. Aaron may acknowledge how important Neil is to Andrew now, but somedays it's easier to remember than others. Right then, when Neil is being particularly insufferable, it's a great feat.

Neil's never heard him actually acknowledge Neil and Andrew's bond before though, and Neil's not prepared for the assumption.

Or the derailment of his own thoughts.

Love.

It's not...it's not a word they use. Love is complicated, something that's been clouded for him due to heavy hands and harsh rules. His mother loved him, but to this day he finds himself wondering if it's the kind anyone should want.

His father hated him. Lola loved to hurt him. Neil never got the chance to explore the feeling until his Foxes, and he could probably say he loves them. He'd die for them, wouldn't hesitate to. But unlike his mother's own brand of sacrificial love, Neil would never think of hurting his friends. He likes spending time with them, getting to know them. There's warmth in his new family where his mother only knew frigidness.

Still, that's not the love Aaron is speaking about, and Neil tries not to grimace at the montage of cliché romantic comedies which fly through his head. He's not sure why he watches them, but it's hard to say no to Allison when she has him trapped in a chair for his monthly haircut.

The kind of love in those movies is not real to him.

Of course, Neil's not so stupid he hasn't wondered about this. After his feelings for Andrew became too hard to ignore, free of the weight of Neil's impending doom, Neil had to start thinking about how exactly to define them...

And yet, he still comes up short every time.

He's not quite sure what love is. He knows what it's supposed to be; devotion, protectiveness, comfort, affection.

Based on those qualifications, he and Andrew fit the bill, though people would probably debate the last one.

That's fine, fuck them.

Neil sees love reflected in Matt's eyes whenever he looks at Dan, the gooey kind, all open and adoring. He even sees it reflected in Kevin when he talks about Thea, except in his case it's expressed in pride.

Those things, Neil understands better. The actions, the tone. Those are the best ways to express anything. The words feel cheapened, lackluster.

He's not sure he will ever say them.

Aaron stares at him, expectantly, almost accusatory, as if he'll punch Neil for denying it. Funny, since Aaron would've loved nothing more than for Neil and Andrew to end things a few months ago. Now, Aaron simply doesn't want his brother manipulated.

As if Andrew would ever let anyone do that to him.

But in that realization, Neil finds his answer. He may never say it, but if someone were to ever ask, 'so, do you love Andrew?'

Neil would never even think of saying no.

And maybe that's all there is to it.

"Yeah, I do," Neil whispers, nodding and pushing the realization to the back of his head for now. He and Andrew haven't talked about it, Neil always assumed they'd never say it, he doesn't exactly need to. But...maybe...maybe it would be nice. Maybe one day Andrew would find it nice.

Aaron's shoulders sag in a mixture of relief and shame over his own feelings, no doubt seeing Katelyn's smile in his mind. Neil wonders what Aaron's go to image is, if it's Katelyn cheering him on at a game, or a much more private, intimate moment.

Neil sees Andrew's calm facade, lips around a cigarette, with a whole universe locked in his eyes. His expression is usually the same, squinting, like he's torn between 'stop staring' or 'never stop.'

Neil shivers.

Yes, if he didn't have Andrew...he's not sure what he would do. Andrew always told him he wasn't Neil's answer, but at this point they're so entangled Neil can't imagine a future without him.

Would he survive and make a good life for himself without Andrew? Most likely, but he really doesn't want to.

For Aaron it's the same, and Neil hates having to admit he's wrong. Looking at Aaron now, a war on his face and fingers itching for his phone, Neil gets it. Aaron has come just as far as the rest of them. He's much more alive now, in no small part thanks to Katelyn. Neil thinks he gets the pessimism, because he sees it in Andrew so often. Hell, his own paranoia has him in the same state somedays.

Aaron's feelings are the same as Andrew's, he said it himself. The assumption everything can fall apart at a moment’s notice is always looming in his mind, and he's never not expecting a catastrophe. The difference for the twins is now, despite that mindset, they fight against the urge to give up.

It's admirable, it's devotion, things he'd never thought he'd say about Aaron.

But here he is; it sucks to eat his words, even in his head. Finding out new things about Aaron is not something Neil planned to do when he walked out here, but he's not disappointed.

It's a start.

"I may not like you," Neil begins, as if to smother the unplanned warmth in his chest. He grimaces instead.

Aaron's head snaps up sharply, like lightning. "Like-fucking-wise--"

"But Katelyn does," Neil stresses, and enjoys watching Aaron's glare relax. It's impossible for him to be upset when she's mentioned, not even when he's angry with her, not really. "If you don't trust that by now you're a lost cause."

It's miles away from touching, from soothing, but it must work for Aaron well enough. It's Neil's own way of saying Aaron doesn't have to expect the worst with Katelyn, because he already has proof she'll weather through anything with him.

In the back of his mind Neil remembers grabbing Andrew's jacket sleeve before he could walk out the door one day, one very bad day. He remembers the words which left his own mouth: ‘don't give up on me.’

Eventually, Aaron settles back into the beanbag slowly, releasing it from his death grip. He tries to scoff, but he sounds too tired for it to be effective. "You're sure comforting for someone who doesn't like me."

And like that, it feels lighter in the room, because Aaron being annoying is normal.

Smartass.

Neil almost smirks; he's one to talk, Andrew would say.

"I don't like you, but I don't want to see you hurt." Neil shrugs. It's the truth; he has to keep Aaron from sinking to rock bottom, so Andrew doesn't worry. Neil knows Aaron still might not believe it, but Andrew will do most anything for him, and by extension..."I'll still watch your back."

Aaron quirks a brow, because he's an asshole like that. "That doesn't sound like dislike."

Neil's not quite ready to think about whether or not the statement is true, in the long run it doesn't matter. The outcome is the same.

"You're family," Neil states, and it holds all the explanation needed.

He's never hesitated to protect his family with his life, with all their awful baggage and selfishness. They stick together.

Aaron's eyes widen as he leans back into the chair, letting the words sink in. Neil tries not to show his own reluctance on his face, but he has to admit this is another way Aaron has gotten better.

He used to not acknowledge the upperclassman's existence outside of practice, but the fight has pretty much left him.

Essentially, even he has to admit he won't be rid of any of them any time soon.

"Yeah," Aaron breathes, breaking the awkward pause. He twiddles his fingers, fidgeting in a way which makes him seem so much younger, so much more vulnerable. His face settles on a glare eventually; he's not ready to look at Neil any other way. "Thanks for...watching out for Katelyn too."

It sounds like Aaron has a mouth full of nails when he says it, but it doesn't lessen the impact.

Okay, yeah. Maybe he's more progressed than Neil thought.

This is the man who wanted to beat him for even approaching Katelyn the first time.

Neil wants to open his mouth and refute it; he didn't do anything Katelyn hadn't already thought of in the past. When he gives her ideas, she sees them through. She's shown time and time again she can make even someone as hardheaded as Aaron bend, she's never needed any help from Neil and honestly, he's never given it unless he was pushed.

Before he can open his mouth, Aaron pins him to his chair with a steely gaze, voice quiet. "And...for Andrew too."

Neil feels his jaw click from how hard he tenses; Aaron is daring him now, daring him to argue. Bastard. He knows Neil's weakness.

And Neil hears the unspoken statement, sees it in Aaron's eyes, so loud and consuming: 'Even from me.'

Even from you.

Of course, Neil thinks. He'd kill for Andrew.

There's no way for him to deny it; Aaron has seen glimpses of it in Neil's eyes, the urge to throttle, to destroy anything in Andrew's way.

Out of respect for that fact, Neil keeps his mouth shut about Katelyn.

Fine.

It's so stupid, that Aaron has to corner Neil in order for him to accept even a piss poor attempt at kindness. It makes Neil grin, sharp and rueful.

It's the closest thing to an apology Neil is going to get from Aaron, his way of saying he was wrong to expect the worst from Andrew, to treat him like some unfeeling monster. Neil will take it for now, but if Aaron shows how little he believes in Andrew like that again...

Neil can't be held responsible for what happens.

Aaron throws up his hands, as if reading Neil's mind. "But no offense, I can't imagine you two having the 'we're exclusive' conversation."

Neil snorts, full on smirking now. "In Andrew's words 'you take up too much of my time for me to think about anyone else,' and that was that."

It was in fact not.

In reality the real conversation was much rawer, strung painfully along three days of trembling touches and long looks. The heaviness in Neil's chest had been unfamiliar, hollow and weighted all at once. He wondered, briefly, if it was what people felt like when they cried.

He hadn't cried in so long he wasn't sure. Sobs ripped through his chest with no outlet, no tears, no snot.

Like thunder, his heart pounding in his ears and pain beneath his skin.

Shockingly, it had been Andrew to put an end to the tension, to crowd him harshly against a wall and force them to talk about things Andrew hated talking about.

"I'm not supposed to be this for anyone, I wasn't supposed to live..."

"But you did. You are."

It's not a memory Neil plans on reliving here with Aaron; he won't be able to control his expression, his breathing.

He digs his fingers into the beanbag this time, and as hard as he tries, he can't get rid of his smile completely.

The night ended with Andrew holding him for the first time while they slept, and oh did they sleep. Almost twelve hours, the emotions taking a toll.

So yeah...

It's him and Andrew, until the end.

He knows Aaron must see through the lie too, at least a little, but he doesn't comment.

"What a bastard," he says instead, giving Neil a way out. It's not like he wants to hear Neil gush about Andrew either.

Not that he would.

Probably.

"You have that in common," Neil replies.

Aaron shrugs, not put off in the slightest. They didn't get to where they are now by being nice people. "Well either way I'm...that’s good or whatever. You know if he cheated on you I'd have to kick his ass."

Neil barks a laugh, so loud and out of character he claps a hand over his mouth to stop it. The idea of Aaron getting so much as a hit in is hilarious.

He can't even imagine it.

Then, Neil really processes his words. He's not sure what look is on his face, but it's disbelieving enough to ruffle Aaron into raising his voice.

"What?" Aaron shouts, and seeing him flush is so unusual without Katelyn around Neil almost can't comprehend it. "I don't care for you either or get what he sees in you, but I didn't go through all the trouble of breaking our deal and going to therapy to let him throw away something that's actually good for him."

Neil lets the annoyance roll off his shoulders; he could just as easily hurt Andrew, but people never assume it's him. Not like he would, but he wishes people would stop placing the blame prematurely. Aside from that...

Aaron admitted Neil is good for Andrew. Aloud. To Neil.

The smirk which grows on Neil's face is absolutely shit eating. "Sounds to me like you like me."

And, either from exhaustion or the inability to fight it any longer, Aaron lets out a heavy sigh. "Maybe one day, Josten."

"Like-fucking-wise," Neil parrots, and for once, the silence is almost comfortable. An itch under Neil's skin tells him it might be the first of more to come.

But, everything ends.

Neil's phone dings on the kitchen counter, and Aaron's head flies to it before he sees it's not his own. Neil, on the other hand--"Oh! There it is!"

He knew he left it somewhere.

Aaron's scowl is something Neil dutifully ignores as he hops up to swipe his phone. It's got twenty percent. That's an improvement, if you ask him. "I swear to fuck, Josten--"

Neil waves him off, swiping his lockscreen (it's a blurred picture of Andrew, because he refused to let Neil take one). He frowns when he sees Andrew's name in his new messages. It's not that they don't text, but it's still new for them to do it without reason.

It's early in the night, for Andrew anyways, and for a moment Neil worries something happened.

A: heading back

Relief floods his chest, mixed with what Andrew would no doubt find an annoying dose of curiosity. Neil can feel Aaron's eyes on him, like he's a zoo animal. He's used to it; the Foxes are improving, but his relationship with Andrew is a mystery in their eyes.

They're not exactly subtle.

N: that was fast. how was Roland?

He doesn't mean to sound suspicious, and it's not for the reasons Aaron might think. He's not sure why Andrew needed to go to Eden's, but if it ended in some kind of fight...

There's a pause, which he notes with some tension in his stomach. Andrew texts fast usually.

A: ok. didn't get to spend much time there so we didn't talk

Neil's brow furrows, but Andrew knows him well, and his explanation comes quickly after.

A: katelyn was there, I'm bringing her back

A: idiot rolled her ankle

Neil's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. And Andrew says he's the interesting one. Neil can't help but be amused at the thought of Andrew being trapped in a car with the bubbly girl. Katelyn isn't exactly scared of Andrew anymore, but they don't talk directly. It really is a night of developments. Neil bites his lip to keep his grin at bay, feeling Aaron's eyes on him.

Oh, Neil is going to enjoy this.

He's not worried about Katelyn, just a bit surprised Andrew would bother with her. But, like with most things Andrew does, Neil accepts the facts and doesn't dwell on much else. If Andrew wants to explain he will.

It's not like Andrew will hurt Katelyn unless she deserves it.

N: okay. I'll let aaron know

He tacks on the purple devil emoji, the one Andrew showed him in a rare moment of instruction, and hopes his intent is received.

A: I should've never taught you what those mean

N: you're amused I can tell

A: maybe

Neil smiles then, a little less evil. The warmth which comes with Andrew pools in his gut and he shivers, unable to help it. The ghost of Andrew's fingers graze his cheek; if he were here he'd push Neil's face for smiling that way.

He never thought a 'maybe' could mean so much, but nowadays it's as good as a 'you're right' to Neil's ears.

Neil thinks that's the end of it when another message comes in.

A: Neil

He pauses, waits. Nothing. It feels like the clench of Andrew's jaw, the consideration before he speaks. Never impulsive, because he doesn't believe in regret.

N: yes?

The little speech bubble pops up to show Andrew is typing, and it starts and stops over and over. The tapping of fingers on a whiskey glass, Neil throwing off the rhythm of Andrew's routine.

It's something Andrew welcomes now, most of the time.

A: you'd probably like the stupid song they played in the club

An incomplete answer.

Neil's smile is uncontrollable at that point, it splits his face in a better way than hot coils, lifting the scarred skin and giving him wrinkles. Andrew isn't always able to say what he's thinking, what he feels, and this is one of those times. They're frequent, proof of progression which is always a tug of war. A few steps forward, some back. But every time it happens now, Andrew offers him a concession, licking wounds which aren't there just because.

Just in case.

But Neil's never hurt, Andrew wouldn't hurt him. The effort means more to him than he can possibly say, because he never asked Andrew for it, doesn't need it. Andrew is giving it, trying anyways.

Even when he doesn't get to the end of the road, Neil can see the destination.

He might not get to hear whatever Andrew really tried to say, not anytime soon, but he knows the truth in what Andrew did say: 'I'm thinking of you.'

Neil releases a shuddering breath.

N: I want to listen later

N: with you

N: drive safe

He won't.

A: maybe

'Okay.'

Neil pockets his phone as it hits below ten percent, and when he hears Aaron cough awkwardly, he remembers the rest of his objective.

Keeping his face blank is a talent he can only thank his boyfriend for.

"Andrew's with Katelyn," he says, as innocently as possible, moving to brew some hot chocolate for when the blond returns. He gets as far as pouring the powder when Aaron looks up, eyeing him as if he's trying to parse through his Spanish homework (without Neil's help).

"Oh, okay," he says, unsure. Neil raises his head as he stirs, watching Aaron blink once, twice.

He clinks his spoon against the rim of the pan, and hears a scream.

"WHAT."

Neil counts the night as a win on account of Aaron jamming his hip against the dorm railing in his haste to haul ass down to the parking lot.

The roar of the Maserati's engine is music to Neil's ears. He and Andrew spend time apart often, but he simply prefers to have him home.

He ignores the look he gets from Andrew as his eyes flit between Neil and Aaron, a silent question. Neil tries not to groan; he knows he'll have to admit it eventually, but his new Aaron revelations aren't things he wants to return to so soon.

When Aaron nods at Andrew, the hint of a smile present and Katelyn against his shoulder, Neil is the only one who knows it for the apology it is. Andrew didn't let him down, of course he wouldn't.

As Aaron turns towards the dorms with Katelyn, fussing and kissing her cheek, Neil doesn't miss the brief glance he sends his way. 'Sorry for doubting.'

And it's not enough for Neil, but it's a start.

With Aaron gone, Neil takes a bold step in Andrew's direction. The magnetic pull is too much, and he raises his brow at the twitch in Andrew's face. People who believe Neil can't flirt have never seen him get under Andrew's skin; it's shockingly easy for him.

Andrew, ever one for reciprocation, takes his own step forward. Neil sees the amused glint shine through the dark, barely there but so apparent to him.

Despite that, Neil doesn't close the gap. He sees the lines of tension wrapped over Andrew's shoulders, not put there by him. They've been there since he got out of the car with Katelyn; something had put him on edge, making him extra cautious, over thinking.

But Neil is there to smooth those points of tension.

Maybe Andrew and Katelyn did get to talking, it sure would be fitting after the night Neil had.

He walks over slowly, letting Andrew set the boundaries if he needs to. He doesn't budge.

"Can I help?" Neil whispers, and expects Andrew to roll his eyes.

'Don't be dramatic,' or 'I don't need help’ seems impending.

Instead, Andrew sighs, tugging at the chain around his neck.

"You tend to," he says, like it's an annoyance. "You do."

Neil grins, wrapping one hand in Andrew's jacket sleeve. He can tell Andrew is still trying to say something, but he's not ready. Neil doesn't need him to be. Though, with the urgency Andrew took with him to Eden's, Neil figures he'll find out soon.

In the meantime, Neil bats Andrew's hand away to pull out his necklace. The little cigarette had made him crack up when he saw it; he didn't think Andrew would actually take to wearing it, but then he'd seen ‘pipe dream’ engraved on it…

Neil hardly sees him remove it.

"You need one too," Andrew mumbles. "I'm tired of being the only one looking like an idiot."

"Get me one then," Neil shoots back, not bothering to point out how Andrew doesn't give a shit what people think of him. It's a joke, but sometimes flustering Neil is more important to Andrew than keeping his pride intact.

"I'm looking still," he says, yanking the chain away from Neil's fingers and stuffing it below his shirt. The movement is irritated, his body language is not.

And oh, that smile on Neil's face must be back, because Andrew snaps at him not a moment later. "Stop it."

"You first," Neil retorts, stupidly, definitely not his best work. But he can't focus with Andrew reaching out for him, pulling at his forearms until Neil's wrists are settling gently on his shoulders. The few inches he has on Andrew never fails to make him laugh, but Andrew's stare is so intense at the moment, the sounds dies on Neil's lips.

The lips Andrew keeps looking at.

Neil leans in, and as his lips graze Andrew's, he smirks. "Did you enjoy your girl talk?"

The blond tenses up in an instant, like hell has frozen over. The stare he levels at Neil is about as unamused as it gets. "You have never heard of a mood in your life."

Andrew makes a show of shoving Neil away while he laughs, but Neil latches on, because he's a shit like that and Andrew loves it. "No, I just know getting you back into the mood is easy," he whispers in Andrew's ear, his thumb sliding down his neck. He delights in the shiver he gets in return.

"Your arrogance is putting you on thin ice," Andrew grits out.

"Do something about it."

When Andrew kisses him, his hands hold Neil's face, and it's his favorite. Neil is pretty sure Andrew knows it, but he'd never point it out, for fear Andrew would stop in retaliation.

Neil is taller, but somehow he ends up surging up to the tips of his toes, the kiss electrifying for something so chaste, a kiss Andrew doesn't even deepen. They're in public, he won't do it, but it leaves Neil yearning anyways.

"It wasn't revolting," Andrew admits when he pulls away, his thumbs rubbing firmly into Neil's face scars.

For a moment, Neil's mind is so hazy he doesn't get it, and he blinks until Andrew catches on.

"The cheer--Katelyn."

Oh. Neil lets his eyes widen; it's not that he sees Andrew as an unfeeling monster, he would never. But...Katelyn is not his type of person. It almost makes Neil laugh, imagining Katelyn with her neverending stream of talking points, attempting to fill the silence of Andrew's Maserati.

Again, it's a start.

Maybe he can trade his conversation with Aaron for Andrew's with Katelyn.

"I'm proud of you," Neil says with a grin, and doesn't elaborate that he means he's proud Andrew is fixing things with Aaron in more ways than therapy. One gap at a time, he makes the necessary choices to sew up the majority of the wound. He'll always be Andrew, holding his brother and Katelyn at a distance, not compromising his own self and beliefs.

It'll never fit together quite right, far from perfect, but they're making their own way.

"For what?" Andrew scowls at him, moving his hands from under Neil's eyes to tug at his mouth. Neil fights him, but the grin can't hold up against the roughness.

Neil lets it go with a wink, which only makes Andrew frown more as Neil turns around. Katelyn moves slow, and he can see Aaron making her even slower by worrying too much. They're barely at the door. Neil sighs, shaking his head. "Ready to go up?"

They may not have privacy, but they'll have more than this...

"No," Andrew says, grabbing the sleeve of Neil's hoodie.

Neil reaches up to tap at Andrew's pulse, patient but not willing to be completely passive in this case. He's missed Andrew all day; he hopes his touch is enough to communicate to Andrew how he doesn't have to try so hard right then.

Neil doesn't need him to keep trying to force out words he's not ready to say; Andrew already had a lot taken out of him after tonight.

Neil too, honestly.

Andrew grunts, turning back to the car. It's the only answer Neil needs, and he gratefully hops into the passenger seat. Neil will follow Andrew wherever he decides to take him, for however long Andrew needs to clear his head.

It's nice, to run without running away.

Andrew's hand grazes his before clutching the gear shift, and they veer out of the parking lot with zero caution.

This is it, he thinks. Andrew's reckless driving after midnight, and a hand in his, with lots of time left to say what needs to be said.

This is it. Four truths: sunrise, Abram, death, us.

Briefly, as he remembers Aaron's confessions, he wonders, hopes even, that the twin feels the same about his life. No, he knows Aaron feels the same way about Katelyn.

That's not even a question.

Neil smiles as he rolls down the window, ignoring Andrew's comment about how he's like a dog, and jots down another line on the list of things to admire about Aaron.

Begrudgingly, of course.

#all for the game #neil josten #andreil #aaron minyard #andrew minyard #katelyn minyard #bc they're married in my heart already

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cass-trash · 5 years

Text

Population Control

Summary: After a fatal virus had made its introduction to the world, you create shelter at a campsite in the middle of the woods. Years pass by and you’ve successfully managed to survive the virus. You were becoming a somewhat loved camper by everybody, especially Castiel. AO3 Word count: 5816 Warnings: Blood, gore, guns, weaponry, death, vomit, swearing A/N: This is the first fic I’ve written in a few months, maybe even a year I’m not sure. It’s a little choppy but I’m still learning. REVIEWS ARE VERY APPRECIATED! It helps me improve my writing skills.

Death surrounded the earth in a thick and heavy layer of black and white, the once so vibrant environment dulling with every day the virus remained afoot. The sun hadn’t made an appearance from behind the clouds in weeks, which only left crops at a disadvantage just like the humans who no longer lived normal lives. Three days was all it took for the military to swoop up anybody they could, of course only if they appeared healthy enough which meant a lot of families had been separated. Soldiers ripped children’s arms from their parents and threw them in the back of a truck filled with other sobbing kids, some of them now orphans. This didn’t help the military’s defence in the conspiracy of them creating this virus as a means of population control. It was only an estimate but possibly four billion people had already died within the first month, at least that’s what the news stations said. Technology and electricity soon failed with no operators and the world turned blind without their news source; people refused to leave their house in fear of catching the virus, leaving them to starve in their home.

The virus which caused this supposedly manifested in a science lab in a military station, which was used for testing on human cloning. An outbreak occurred and killed the science team and the ones which survived only helped spread it to the outside world. There was no surreal evidence on whether someone contained the virus, though it had been noticeable people’s tempers often become unstable within the their remaining forty-eight hours.

You had a few run-ins with the unstable before; a man climbed atop your vehicle and attempted to smash the windshield as you refused to allow him a ride. With the news of the virus potentially being within your town, you fled in your Jeep with necessities and headed up north. When you had reached North Dakota you discovered three men - Sam and Dean Winchester and their best friend Castiel - the four of you then helped create a camp in the middle of the woods where you helped survivors recuperate and live without fear of catching a virus.

Things had been good for five years, though the camp ran into issues things always seemed to work out, until Dean had caught the virus. In his last few hours he had become a completely different person; anger and rage had filled his veins unlike you’d ever seen. Castiel and Viktor had to restrain him, and when that didn’t work Sam was the one who shot him in the head. Sam soon fell into a depression though he hid it well, it was obvious to you. Castiel mentioned they’ve never really been separated for long, and with no way to bring him back this was something Sam was going to struggle to cope with. Sam spent a lot of time outside the perimeter walls - hunting for food he claimed - though it wasn’t common for him to return back with anything for the campers to eat.

Castiel had been suffering with his own depression for years and similar to Sam, he didn’t like to burden others with his issues, so he kept himself busy with surveillancing the perimeters in case of an attack. The two of you had gotten extraordinarily close within the past two years, Dean’s death took a toll on him just as much as Sam and you helped him with his grief. The brothers had mentioned the whole Castiel-being-a-celestial-being thing to you, but you didn’t like to intrude; he shared few stories with you. Still, he liked to be alone and protect the others up on the walls. Your eyes darted to the south-east corner where Castiel sat perched on his handmade stool, slightly hunched over with his machine gun beside him which had to have been running low on ammunition by now. Use the bows and spears, hell your fists are still better than wasting ammo on deer, you recalled shouting. Those newbies were restricted to their post inside the walls for seven days as a repercussion. Ammunition was only supposed to be used against humans such as the trespassers you’ve been having issues with for a days now, but now you were forced to stay out past curfew in an attempt to recover ammo. The kids were only trying to impress Sam but they put everybody at risk because of their recklessness.

The camp was located in the middle of the woods, somewhere nobody dared trek in fear of bears. You had been a hunter before all this began, not monster-in-the-dark hunter like the brothers but an ordinary hunter. Thankfully you’ve had your run-in with bears before and knew how to take care of them. A river with clean water was located a kilometre away, which brought the attention of deers, rabbits, and a poor survivor here and there. Twenty-six people lived inside the walls, the population increasing at the hands of Sam who doesn’t have the heart to turn people away. You feared it was going to get the whole camp killed one day.

Sam appointed you with the job of providing rations. You wished you were just another scouter like Castiel or Viktor, which seemed easier than having to be responsible if somebody did not receive their daily food and necessities. Mental battles were fought in your head each day because of the stress. Was equality more important than equity? Should a mother and her child be forced to share food while Old Ossie is supplied with a slab of steak on a golden plate? In the end, you decided whoever benefited the camp should receive more. Old Ossie accused you of favouritism because of this. Ossie - the troll as kids referred - is the camp’s grump. Rough white hair lined his head and chin in a thin layer, and his stained white tank did him no justice. Arthritis claimed his joints at a young age and even more so in his later years; he provided nothing to the camp, though it wasn’t his fault.

‘You’ve returned!’ Leah screamed, alerting the campers of your presence. Her small arms extended and wrapped around your legs, dirt transferring to her body to yours. ‘Did you meet anybody new out there?’

‘No.’ She noticed your concern but didn’t comment. The weight of the supplies dragged you down, knees buckling underneath you causing you to crash into the mud. Bundles of apples rolled followed you into the mud, which Leah quickly picked up and wiped on her dress.

Her small arms and hands couldn’t carry them all but she continued to pick them up, determined to assist. ‘I can’t carry all!’ she exclaimed, lips pursing and eyebrows furrowing.

‘It’s alright,’ you lifted yourself from the ground and threw the remaining apples into your bag, ‘you can keep those ones. Share them with those friends you made!’ One high-pitched squeal later, Leah sprinted home with the apples in her arms; one or two dropping on her journey back home.

‘She’s spoilt.’ The voice was low and almost unrecognisable if it wasn’t for the venomous hate noticeable in it.

‘Ossie.’ you hissed. Ossie sat on his porch of his house - if you could call it that - and glared at you with his pale grey eyes. Bony fingers clenched around a can filled with water sat in his lap, his joints seemingly cooperating with him today. The humid weather must’ve been a nice change of pace for him. A huff of ignorance fled his nose as he turned his head away from you, exposing the military tattoo on his neck. ‘Good talking to you.’

‘Y/n,’ Castiel appeared beside you, his hands immediately reaching for the boxes stuck within the mud, ‘I didn’t see you return.’ Those sapphire eyes watched over you as you returned to your feet, and the scrape on your arm didn’t go unnoticed by him. It was almost impossible to hide things from an angel, especially one who was so persistent on making sure you were okay all the time.

‘I’m fine,’ you assured.

His eyes raised to yours and he nodded in hesitant contempt. ‘Are these to go to Luna?’ You nodded. Luna, the code-word for your house. It didn’t need a code-word but Sam was so persistent on it you finally complied. The campers just called your humble abode the Shitty Yellow One. What could you do with a few pieces of wood? You never took a class in carpentry.

‘Just set it on the table,’ you motioned, ‘I need to go find some cloth to wrap it up.’

Castiel took a moment to have a look around, having never step foot inside your house before. ‘It’s a lot smaller than Dean said.’

‘Yeah, but it’s like a maze. There’s so much crap in here.’ Supplies and rations had taken over your house. Throwing the cuttings of cloth onto the table, you prepared everything and began rationing the fruits. ‘Thanks, Castiel. You can head back to your post if you’d like.’

You wrote different numbers on each cloth to remember which families the supplies go to, and proceeded to place the different fruit in each; there wasn’t much of a selection out in the woods but at least you had found an apple tree and blueberry bush. The other supplies would need to go in the boxes, but you didn’t have enough for everybody. Castiel lowered himself into the opposite chair to you and began helping with the rations, following your steps and setting them off to the side. A smile pulled at your lips, ‘Don’t blame me if Sam takes your gun away from you.’

‘He’d have to replace me, in that case. That’s something he wouldn’t have the energy for.’

‘Well, alright then.’

Dividing fruits and supplies was a tedious job that had to be done, you just wished people didn’t take you for granted so often. With the help of Castiel, it took you an hour less but you still weren’t done. ‘Okay, I think you’re done for the night. Go on home and get some sleep. I’ve gotta go hand these out before dawn.’

‘I’d rather be with you, if that’s okay.’

His behaviour changed at the mention of returning home. You knew he shared the house with Sam, maybe there were some issues with the two of them. ‘Sure, Castiel, you can come.’

‘Thank you, Y/n.’

‘Just do me a quick favour before we head out. There should be a purple box upstairs filled with clean blankets. Can you grab the box and bring them down?’ Castiel nodded and disappeared upstairs, where he would then proceed to get lost. It was only normal for people to get lost up there. It was a complete mess.

A husky voice was heard outside, proceeded by Sam’s. Hearing Sam’s voice surprised you in the least, you could barely remember the last time you heard him say anything to anybody. ‘NO, SAM.’ Danny screamed, rage fuelled in his voice. Of course it was Danny. Who else could it be? No-one was dumb enough to stand up against Sam.

Deciding to ignore the bickering, you called for Castiel, ‘You good up there?’

‘I, um, am having difficulties finding this box.’

You shared a chuckle to yourself. He’ll be up there for a while. Better him than you.

‘FOR FUCK’S SAKE, SAM.’

The metal of the box scraped against the wooden table as you placed it down. ‘What’s happening?’ you asked Sam, peering outside, but he didn’t need to reply. The unfamiliar motionless body laying between him and Danny spoke enough. It wasn’t one of you; the trespasser perhaps. The blankets could wait for now, you decided. Inspecting the body, you noticed the large stab wound in her back which was spurting out glossy silver liquid. She had to have been no older than fifteen, but she looked almost in her late thirties with the wrinkles on her face. She was definitely infected. ‘Who stabbed her?’ you asked, noticing the knife laying on the dirt.

‘Danny!’ Sam snapped. ‘He’s pushed it too far, Y/n. He needs to leave!’

‘Sam, calm down-’

‘Don’t defend him!’ The usually welcoming hazel eyes now filled with disgust and hatred, whether it was towards Danny, you, or both you still weren’t sure. ‘I’ve given him chances time and time again, and he continuous breaking the rules! He just killed a kid!’

Danny’s fingers inches to his thigh, his pistol holder mere centimetres away from him. ‘Hey, wait! This can be talked about after we get this body out of here. If this stays in here any longer, we’re all gonna be dead.’ you motioned to the silver liquid. The effects of it were becoming stronger each minute wasted because of their childish dispute. It’s almost as though they’ve forgotten what the virus did to them.

Sam was at a disadvantage against Danny with no weapons on him currently. Danny must’ve just returned from a supply run and still had his pistol strapped to him, which was almost gripped in his hand at this point. ‘This is all your fault, Samuel! I told you, I fucking told you we need to be careful who we let in! You do remember there’s a deadly virus out there, right? That’s why we’re all fucking stuck in the woods and not home with our families! Did you forget that!?’

‘Fuck me,’ you hissed. This was getting nowhere. Unzipping your jacket, you firmly tied it around your face. It probably wouldn’t provide much protection against the virus at such a close proximity, but somebody had to get the body out here before more people breathed that stench. It was bitter and slightly sweet, but the effects of it definitely wasn’t. Danny’s mossy eyes watched you drag the body past him and Sam. You couldn’t drag it far but it’d be enough overnight. Viktor would help bury it later on, you just hoped the liquid doesn’t worsen. Her arms cracked and popped with each rough movement as you dragged her tiny, but surprisingly heavy, body out of the camp. A trail led off to the right where nobody entered, ghosts supposedly, and you decided that’d be far enough for her to rest for the time being.

Silver liquid continued seeping out the wound and now her ears. The stench was getting stronger you could feel it burn your throat and lungs. Tears pricked your eyes, giving you a sensation like that of cutting an onion. God, it’s been years since you’ve had onions. The corpse let out a final crack as you dumped it to the ground, a pool of glossy silver accumulating underneath it. She seemed different from all the other infected you’ve run into in the past but you couldn’t put your finger on it. The virus usually made them lash out but you didn’t even know she was within the camps walls until Danny’s yelling. Was the virus evolving?

‘Y/n?’ Castiel’s voice rang on the other side of the walls.

‘What?’ The jacket muffled your voice.

‘There’s...an issue.’

The wooden gates to the camp stared down at you hauntingly. You didn’t have a clue what was waiting for you in there. Another dead body? Castiel had his back to you, his arms crossed against his chest. The camouflage shirt he wore was beginning to become a little tight against his biceps, but he daren’t to part with it. A gift from you. ‘What’s wrong now?’ you said, joining his side. A crowd had formed where Danny and Sam where, but you couldn’t see past them.

‘They’ve been informed of Sam’s...mistake. They’re unsure whether they can trust their lives with him as leader anymore.’ Castiel explained.

Great. There were going to be two deaths tonight. Just, you weren’t sure whether it was Sam or Danny who’d claim victory. As much as you love and appreciate Sam as a friend, he wasn’t suited to be leader anymore. Dean’s death was still having its effect on him and he was only becoming increasingly unstable. Danny, on the other hand, isn’t a leader either. Strict rules and bans would be set in place on his order and it’d do more bad than good. ‘Sam needs to step down,’ you said, ‘we need a new leader.’

‘But Danny-’

‘He’s no leader.’ You faced Castiel, observing his stance and expression. He was quiet and kept to himself a lot, but he did resemble a leader of sorts. ‘Well, what about you?’ His mouth fell open at that, and his head shook at a mile an hour. ‘Dean mentioned you ruling Heaven or something, ya know, back then.’

Castiel’s hands gripped his shirt tightly. ‘No. That was my brother just using me. His ways...they aren’t good.’

‘Well you can do it in your own ways.’

‘I don’t think I’d know where to even begin with a job like that.’

A soft smile pulled against your lips. ‘I’m sure you’d figure it out. You’re a smart man, Castiel. I guess it comes with being a celestial. You’re on a whole different level than us. It’s just directing people in the right direction, really. Isn’t that what angels do? Like, um, guardian angels or something like that?’

‘Something like that,’ Castiel said, a toothy grin spreading across his face.

‘That’s it!’ Danny yelled within the crowd. The crowd quickly dispersed in panic, their hands over their head as they ran to cover. Danny and Sam was finally in sight, and you could see a pistol pointing directly at Sam. ‘I won’t let your actions get me infected!’

Castiel stepped forward. It was hesitant, but he worked up the courage to move closer. Mud stuck to his combat boots as he moved slowly, the slush of the ground notifying Danny of his sneaking. ‘Enough is enough! Put the gun down, Danny!’ he ordered. ‘If you cooperate we can figure this out civilly.’

Following behind the angel, you watched as Danny backed away from Sam and Castiel. He was at more of an advantage in this position now. The four of you stood in a triangle. Castiel and yourself opposite of Sam and Danny off to the side with his gun switching from either side continuously. ‘Get the fuck back! I’ll shoot all of you!’ Danny exclaimed, firing off a shot that barely missed Sam.

Screams and hushed voices of shock could be heard from behind wooden structures. ‘We need to get this in control.’ you whispered. ‘The campers are frightened.’ Castiel nodded in agreement, though there was no opening for either of you to accomplish anything.

Danny’s eyes were frantic, searching for a possible way out or a solution to the issue he placed himself in. The gun shook in his hands, his fingers tightening around the trigger to control his nerves. Bang! The pistol fired another shot directly at Sam, hitting him. Castiel’s firm hand gripped your wrist and pulled you behind him, shielding you from Danny’s pistol which had turned to the two of you. ‘I-I didn’t want to shoot him! He forced my hand!’

‘Sam!’ you pleaded, ‘Get up!’ You’re frozen in place with your heart pounding in your chest, vision blurring with tears though you couldn’t see much with Castiel in front. One arm was all it took for you to keep your position. Castiel was determined to keep you shielded and you weren’t going to neglect his wishes in a time like this.

‘Look at what you’ve done!’ Castiel exclaimed, gesturing to the motionless body of Sam, ‘You just shot your leader! Do you understand the punishment you’ll receive for such a vile action?’

‘No...no, I just saved all of you! Sam would’ve been the downfall of this camp. I’m the hero. I deserve to be the leader!’ Danny rambled. This behaviour reminded you of the infected in their last few hours. They’d always become unstable just like this, Dean was similar though more violent. Perhaps Danny caught the virus when he was out on the supply run, but physically he looked healthy like normal.

‘You’re no leader, Danny. You’ve just murdered someone of high priority to these people. Now they’re at risk of outsiders and each other. Rule number one of being a leader is to keep situations under control. Murdering somebody in front of everybody isn’t under control!’ Castiel growled. Fingers dug into Castiel’s shirt as some form of security, almost tearing it with the grip you had. The infected worried you, but nobody had scared you like Danny is. Dean was close but Danny was completely different. You’ve had guns, knives, bows, spears, all sorts of crap pointed at you, but an unstable man with nothing to lose and everything to gain was at the top of the ladder.

Castiel’s shoulders tightened underneath the presence of your fingers. Human emotions tend to combine and form as one, he once said. Castiel could feel your fear, it was overwhelmingly strong. Fear was an emotion he hadn’t often felt radiating off you, which only made him more concerned.

‘If you dare get between me and my rightful position as leader then you leave me no choice but to kill you, too!’ Danny’s hands straightened out and for a moment he seemed to have gained control of his nerves to pull the trigger. Castiel was a tad faster than Danny and had managed to turn his back to him, hunching over to protect his head from being shot. Arms trapped you against his chest, sacrificing himself as a human - or angel - shield for you.

‘Castiel!’ you screeched. Bang! Your skeleton practically jumped out of your body. ‘Castiel, you-you’re grace. It protects you, right?’ The pained groan escaping his throat said otherwise. Bullets and knives and all that stuff doesn’t work on old Cas here, you remembered Dean saying. It was when you had met for the first time; Castiel was only protecting Sam and Dean from your gun pointed at them when he almost dislocated your shoulder. He still profusely apologises to this day.

‘W-what the hell are you?’ Danny stuttered. ‘How are you still standing!?’

Castiel looked to be in a lot of pain; his eyes squeezed shut and his teeth biting down on his lower lip. Staggered exhales tickled your forehead unpleasantly but you were relieved he was still breathing at least. The warmth of his chest was pressing against you and you prayed it wasn’t blood. ‘Castiel, please, look at me. You’re an angel, right? You’ll be fine.’ you sobbed as you pled. He was in this mess because of you. If you hadn’t talked him into standing up against Danny, he’d have joined the campers and hid behind something. If you weren’t here, he wouldn’t use himself to protect you. ‘Cas!’

Sapphire eyes peered at you through eyelashes heavy with tears of pain. With a hoarse voice, Castiel asked, ‘Did you get hurt? I’m-’ Bang! Castiel’s eyes widened and his arms loosened from around your body as his knees buckled beneath him, the mud sloshing underneath his sudden weight.

‘Cas!’ Kneeling beside the fallen angel, you watched as he aimed at holding himself up from the ground. His hands and knees dug into the mud, a thick layer coating the underside of his body. The bullet wounds in his back looked horrific with blood pouring out of them similar to the silver from the corpse. Bang! The gunfire caused you to cringe and squeeze your eyes shut, afraid of seeing Cas get shot once more, only you heard a distant cry of pain. It was Danny who was now on the ground, a hand clamped over his chest as he stared up at the sky.

‘Son of a-’ you heard him groan before everything fell silent.

Viktor stood on top of the perimeter walls with a rifle beside him, signalling Danny was down and he was the one responsible. He rushed down the stairs of the wall, leaving his rifle at his post, and proceeded to assist you with Castiel. Viktor was always one to come to the rescue, especially when it came to you. It was something small he had in common with Castiel; you assumed that was why they were both so fond of each other. ‘This doesn’t look good,’ Viktor commented, ‘we need Abbigail.’

‘Cas-Castiel?’ Leah appeared from behind metal fencing, her hands timidly grasping her dress as she stood over Castiel. ‘Is...is he going to die?’

‘No! No, no, he’s going to be fine.’ you assured, though you weren’t sure.

Leah’s eyes darted over to Sam and Danny, her brown eyes widening in horror. A hand flew to her mouth as she let out a stunned gasp and whispered, ‘Sam? Danny?’

‘Don’t look at them, Leah.’

A lantern in the distance caught your attention and you watched as it trekked to you in the thick mud. ‘Leah, go home now!’ A flat voice ordered. It had to have been Abbigail.

‘But Mum-’

‘Leave now!’ Abbigail kneeled beside you and immediately got to work on Castiel’s wounds, which was uncontrollably bleeding. ‘I won’t be able to stitch them up here. He’s going to be in a lot of pain.’

Castiel raised to his feet with the assistance of Viktor by his side, carrying most of his weight so he didn’t feel more pain than necessary. ‘Fuck, take him to my house.’ Helping Abby with her medical supplies, you followed the two men into your house and placed everything on the floor beside the couch Viktor set Castiel on. ‘Thanks, Viktor. Check on Sam.’ His eyes fell, but he complied.

Abbigail continued treating Castiel, though she couldn’t do much with his shirt in the way of the wounds. She wasted no time by cutting the fabric, receiving a moan of disapproval from Castiel. ‘I liked this shirt.’ he murmured.

‘If you like it so much, I’ll let you die in it.’ Abbigail retorted.

Castiel shut up. The sapphire in his eyes seemed to have dulled to a blue-grey and his skin was becoming pale at an alarming rate. He made eye contact with you briefly before they fell shut. It was better if he was knocked out anyways.

Abbigail used her knife to on his wounds to make them larger to gain access to the bullets, which she then proceeded to fish out with a pair of tweezers. Blood was pouring out of his back and running down to his sides where it stained the couch cushions, which would never be used again; liquid raised in your throat at the sheer sight of it. With a gulp, you swallowed the liquid and your fear back down and helped Abby by applying pressure to the wound as she worked on the opposite one. The continuous rise and fall of his back as he breathed was the only thing keeping you sane for the time being, though your concern for Sam couldn’t help but creep into the back of your mind. Focus on one thing at a time, you reminded yourself. You had faith in Abbigail, she had more successes than failures and she was known to work well under pressure; she had to have been under pressure at this point.

‘Alright. That’s one done, let me see this one.’

Removing your hands, you winced at the sight of the flesh pulling apart and the blood claiming your hands. This one seemed worse and possibly deeper than the last. Castiel was lucky these didn’t paralyse him. ‘Do you have this under control? I have to check on Sam.’ you asked.

‘I’ve got it,’ a sympathetic smile spread across her face for a moment, ‘go see him.’

Returning outside, you noticed a few campers returned to the crime scene. Three men stood over Danny with their arms crossed, while Viktor and two others stood over Sam. ‘Viktor?’

‘Y/n,’ Viktor sighed, ‘he didn’t make it.’

Sam’s body laid in the mud, his eyes closed and his hand resting on his heart just above where he was shot. He looked more at peace when he was dead than he had in the past two years. Tears pricked your eyes. ‘I think he wanted this,’ you said, ‘maybe not in this way but he wasn’t himself since Dean.’

Viktor only nodded and pulled you in for a brief hug, his warmth battled Castiel’s. ‘Go on back to him now,’ Viktor pecked your forehead and offered a smile, ‘I’ll handle Sam. Danny, too.’

‘I owe you one, Viktor. Thank you for saving him.’ you placed a kiss to his cheek before retreating back inside to check on Castiel. ‘How’s he doing?’

‘Ask him yourself,’ Abby smiled.

Castiel was awake and his back was all stitched up with bandages wrapped around his chest. The colour was beginning to return to his face and eyes. He sat on the couch upright, his head thrown backwards in uncomfortable pain. ‘I’m fine.’ Castiel answered. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m fine, Cas. Thanks to you. What were you thinking!?’

‘I’m just going to head on out. I gotta put Leah to sleep.’ Abbigail left before you could get another word in.

‘I just wanted to protect you, Y/n. Danny was unstable and the potential position of power only worsened matters. I made a poor assumption using my grace. It’s not exactly at full power these days and I don’t believe I have long until it’s depleted.’ Castiel’s eyes appeared heavy. ‘Everything appears so much more dull than usual. I hadn’t noticed the rate my grace was vanishing until tonight. I may only have another day or two.’

Your heartbeat increased and pounded against your chest. ‘You’re dying?’

His head shook, not meeting eyes with you. ‘No- No. I’m just turning mortal. Soon the virus will become an issue for me as it is to all of you. I took it for granted earlier but I think it’s dawning on me.’ Sapphire eyes turned misty with tears, he only bowed his head further. ‘I don’t- I don’t know how to be a human.’

The couch complained underneath your sudden weight beside the angel. Fingers danced along his cheek as you pulled him towards you, ‘Come here,’ you whispered, ‘I don’t know a lot about all of this celestial mumbo jumbo but you seem a lot more human than anybody I know. It’s not like you go around with your magic stardust making us worship you or something, and you’re not some cold-blooded killer like a lot of the people out there.’ Castiel’s hearty chuckle resonated within you, his warmth pressing against you like it had earlier only in this situation it was a whole lot more welcoming.

Sapphire returning to his eyes, he glanced you over before he allowed his head to lean into your hand. The stubble on his cheeks pricked against your palm but in the moment you didn’t care as you leaned forward and let the warmth of his lips press against yours. He didn’t hesitate a second, as though he had been waiting for this. One hand laid flat on your thigh while the other rested on the back of your neck, rubbing slow circles with his thumb. His movements warm and smooth, you imagined it to be what angel grace felt like; serenity, warmth, softness, everything beautiful mixed together.

‘I want to thank you,’ he whispered, ‘and apologise for the couch. I’ll be sure to replace the cushions.’

‘Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re okay.’

Castiel’s smile mimicked yours.

‘Sam- Is he…’ You shook your head in response. He remained silent and his eyes stared at a spot on the couch. Dean and Sam had said they’ve known Castiel for years before the whole virus outbreak; it had to have been hard losing not one but both of your best friends.

You ran a hand through his hair, cringing at the mud sticking to your fingers as you moved through it. ‘You should clean up and get some rest.’ you said. ‘We’ll get everybody together tomorrow and say goodbye to Sam. You’ve got a big day ahead of you, Boss.’

Castiel only laughed.

Castiel awoke early in the morning to the sun shining on his eyes through a gap in the wooden structure. After a tough battle, Castiel politely accepted your offer to sleep on the bed while you fashioned a temporary bed on the floor beside him. Soft pink burning his cheeks, he let himself smile as he recalled the kiss you had shared the night before.

He allowed himself to glance down at you. His cheery smile fell to shock then horror as he observed silver liquid dripping out of your ajar mouth, a trail leading down the side of your face and to the floor. His heart fell to his stomach, and for a moment he didn’t care about the wounds on his back as he pushed himself out of bed and knelt beside you. He remembered the young woman from last night; you carried her out by yourself and it must’ve gotten to you. ‘Y/n,’ he whispered, his voice shaking. He didn’t hesitate to check your condition with his grace and pressed his fingertips to your forehead to examine. Castiel could feel the death radiating off your soul, it was toxic and making a beeline to encase you within blackness. The baby blue of your soul had turned to gray overnight. You wouldn’t last until noon.

Castiel hadn’t really used his grace since this all began, not even when Dean was dying. He didn’t know if he even could cure the virus but he was going to make an attempt if it meant saving your life. There was some sort of connection between you two and he doesn’t want to lose that, whether it was selfish or not. He’s never felt such a distinction between a human before. With a shallow inhale, Castiel used the remainder of his grace to heal you. His eyes followed the grace flow to your soul and attack the virus, the black of the virus and the blue of his grace swirled together almost resembling Yin and Yang. It took a few minutes, but the grace barely claimed victory and healed you of the virus.

‘Y/n?’ he whispered, tapping you slightly. ‘Are you alright?’

A groan escaped your throat, ‘What?’ you muttered before falling asleep again.

Castiel smiled knowing you were healthy once more. His grace was gone forever and he was now at risk of being murdered or injected just as much as everybody else, but you weren’t dying and was slowly healing from his wounds. Castiel decided to keep the virus scare a secret to not concern you, and as for his grace there was no sure-fire way of you ever finding out how he truly lost his grace forever.

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goforwardgreenwriter-blog · 6 years

Text

The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 32 - 33

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Aedion had been up half the night, debating the merits of every possible place to meet his father.

I am such a sucker for good parent/child relationships in fiction (extra bonus points if it’s adopted parents/child relationship) but honestly Assdion needs to stay the fuck away.

Beforehand Assdion put Lysandra to bet after she shifted back from some other form.

[Aedion] flipped back the crisp cotton sheets with one hand and then laid [Lysandra] down, her once-again long hair covering her high, firm breasts. So much smaller than the ones he’d first seen her with. He didn’t care what size they were—they were beautiful in both forms.

Uhhh does SJM not get how creepy this sounds? Lysandra is asleep and Aedion is staring at her boobs thinking about how beautiful they are?? God damnit SJM just stick to erotica if your characters are gonna be horny 24/7.

Lysandra made [Aedion] change out of his dirty travel clothes, barged into Aelin and Rowan’s room wearing no more than her own bedsheet, and took whatever she wanted from the Fae Prince’s armoire. Aelin’s barked Get out! was likely heard from across the bay, and Lysandra was smirking with feline wickedness as she returned, chucking the green jacket and pants at him.

This sounds like the beginning of a college fic where all the characters live in the same dorm. Not a fucking epic fantasy series constantly compared to LOTR. Tolkien must be rolling in his grave.

Dorian stirred, a cool breeze fluttering in as if his magic awoke as well, squinted at them both, then at the clock atop the mantel.

WHAT. Is this a medieval settings or not? The characters all use swords and bow and arrows and there’s hints of medieval Britain monarchies everywhere but the characters have clocks? What is this word building?

Gods, the females in his court ate more than [Aedion] did.

This is prompted after Lysandra eats breakfast. After we have already been told she burns a lot of energy with her shape shifting. Go fuck yourself, Assdion.

Aedion opened the door, finding the cadre precisely where he’d guessed they’d be at this hour: eating breakfast in the taproom. The two males halted as they entered. And Aedion’s eyes went right to the golden-haired man—one of two, but … there was no denying which one was … his.

I am actually so stressed. Either A) Aedion is gonna act like a dick to his poor father and be treated as right for it, or B) SJM is gonna turn Gav into a dick just so Aedion can angst over his daddy issues. Place your bets, folks.

“You look … ,” Gavriel breathed, sinking into his chair. “You look so much like her [Aedion’s mom].”

HHHHH SJM STOP I HATE THIS SHITTY BOOK AND ASSDION I DON’T WANT THESE FEELS....

“They could have cured [mama Aedion] in the Fae compounds, but she wouldn’t go near them, wouldn’t let them come for fear of Maeve”—[Aedion] spat the name—“knowing I existed. For fear I’d be enslaved to her as you were.”

I wish Assdion’s mom could’ve been a character, but nope, gotta kill off potentially awesome characters for the sake of main character pain. I know that’s just a thing that happens in 95% of stories at this point, but SJM literally only brings these dead characters up once or twice and it has no other impact on her main characters or the plot.

“I’m sorry,” his father said, those Lion’s eyes full of such grief Aedion wondered if he’d just struck a male already down. “I’m not the one you need to apologize to,” he said, turning toward the door.

Am I a dumb dumb, or... who the fuck is Assdion talking about? Is he talking about apologizing to.. Assdion’s mom? I’m so confused.

Assdion stomps out after his little tantrum. I mean, I understand why he’s upset, but... I need context? Was Gav forced to take the blood oath to Maeve, or was it his own choice? ‘Cause if it was the latter yeah he’s kinda a shitty dad, but if it’s the former, it’s not his fault??? This series is batshit confusing.

“We need them to work with us. I might have made an enemy of him.” [Lysandra] tucked her hair over a shoulder. “Trust me, Aedion, you have not. If you’d told him to crawl over hot coals, he would have.”

HHHH FUCK IT GAV IS A GOOD DAD..... I just feel so so sorry for him. He’s just a punching bag for everyone else. Protect Gav 2k18

He laughed, surprised he could even do so. “He’s a handsome bastard, I’ll give him that.” “I think Maeve likes to collect pretty men.” Aedion snorted. “Why not? She has to deal with them for eternity. They might as well be pleasant to look at.”

I mean a lot of those men have confirmed that they were forced to take the blood oath and are now basically slaves to her but sure, tee hee oh Maeve that slutty bitch, collecting only the hottest young men to enslave! Fuckin’ end me.

Bearing both Goldryn and Damaris for once, Aelin walked into the Sea Dragon two hours later and wished for the days when she could sleep without the dread or urgency of something pulling at her.

Greaaat, back to Alien’s POV.

A grand total of five minutes before Lysandra barged in, Rowan had awoken—and begun the process of awakening her, too. Slowly, with taunting, proprietary strokes down her bare torso, her thighs, accented with little biting kisses to her mouth, her ear, her neck.

EWWWWWWW if I wanted to read this shit, I’d go look up fanfiction. Preferably fanfiction with characters I’m endeared to and actually ship. Skip!

Gavriel and Fenrys were now sitting with Rolfe at the table in the back of the taproom, no sign of Aedion, both a bit wide-eyed as she swaggered in.

This is a nit pick but Gav/Fenrys always being described together irks me. They have the literal same reaction to everything. Like, are they doing this all in unison? Actually, that’s a pretty funny mental image.

Rowan took up a spot beside [Aelin] his knee brushing hers. Like even a few feet of distance was unbearable.

GDI. It’s a meeting. With a Pirate Lord. And all Rowboat can think about is getting his dick wet inside of Alien. I’m almost ready to tap out.

“What is this,” [Aelin] said, stabbing a finger near the main line of figures stretched across the middle of the continent. “It’s the latest report,” Rolfe drawled, “of the locations of Morath’s armies. They have moved into position. Aid to the North is now impossible. And they stand poised to strike Eyllwe.”

Ooo, action scene? Please action scene, I cannot handle any more scenes of these assholes being horny around one another.

Next chapter!

“Eyllwe has no standing army,” Aelin said, feeling the blood drain from her face. “There is nothing and no one to fight after this spring—save for rebel militia bands.”

Starts right where the last one left off, as per SJM’s protocol

Rowan said to Rolfe, “Do you have exact numbers?” “No,” the captain said. “The news was given only as a warning—to keep any shipments away from the Avery. I wanted their opinions”—a nod of the chin toward the cadre—“for handling it.“

??? Is it me or is this expression really fucking weird? Was “a nod of the head” not good enough?

“Why attack Eyllwe, though?” Fenrys asked. “And why move into position but not sack it?” [Aelin] couldn’t say the words aloud. That she’d brought this upon Eyllwe by mocking Erawan, because he knew who Celaena Sardothien had cared for, and he wanted to break her spirit, her heart, by showing her what his armies could do. What they would do, whenever he now felt like it. Not to Terrasen … but to the kingdom of the friend she’d loved so dearly.

Once again, we’re about to witness the destruction of a kingdom and all Alien cares about is her stupid feelings. Go fuck yourself Alien.

“You are the heir of the Mycenian people,” Aelin said. “And I have come to claim the debt you owe my bloodline on that account, too.” Rolfe did not move, did not blink. “Or were all the sea dragon references from some personal fetish?” Aelin asked.

SJM JUST USED THE WORD “FETISH” IN HER EPIC FANTASY SERIES. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

[Aelin] allowed a flicker of her magic to rise to the surface then, allowed the gold in her eyes to glow like bright flame. Gavriel and Fenrys straightened as her power filled the room, filled the city. The Wyrdkey between her breasts began thrumming, whispering.

I’m sorry, lovely readers, I keep ragging on about this, but holy fuck. I hate it so much. SJM wants this scene to be all epic and show what a special snowflake badass Alien is but then she undercuts all that supposed tension by drawing focus to her boobs I just. ajhdafdfagfds dj hdsa im b rea kin g

Alien lets loose some of her power that literally shakes the world and rings bells or some shit? idk i guess its 2deep4me

“What the rutting hell was that?” Rolfe at last demanded. Fenrys and Gavriel became very interested in the map before them. Rowan said smoothly, “Milady has to release bits of her power daily or it can consume her.”

ROWBOAT CONFIRMED FOR NICE GUY HOLY SHIT

Aedion and Lysandra arrived after some time—and her cousin only spared Gavriel a passing glance as he stood over the map and fell into that general’s mindset, demanding details large and minute. But Gavriel silently stared up at his son, watching her cousin’s eyes dart over the map, listening to the sound of his voice as if it were a song he was trying to memorize.

Gav deserves a better series than this. I want to take him, Manon, Darrow, and Rolfe away so they can be at peace. How does Darrow/Gavriel sound to everyone? Pure old dads who rule their kingdom fairly, bringing peace and prosperity forward. What a lovely image.

SJM described the meeting rather than shows. It’s basically 90% everyone gushing over how powerful Alien is. Skip!

“You once said I would pay for my arrogance. And I did. Many times. But Sam and I took on your entire city and fleet and destroyed it. All for two hundred lives you deemed less than human. So perhaps I’ve been underestimating myself. Perhaps I do not need you after all.” [Aelin] turned again, and Rolfe sneered, “Did Sam die still pining after you, or did you finally stop treating him like filth?”

Dick move, maybe, but I mean... he’s not wrong. The Assassin’s Blade is literally just Alien being pissy towards Sam for no reason and then he gets angry when their master beats lAlien’s face in (you know, what any normal functioning human being would react like) and she’s suddenly frothing at the mouth to fuck him. Maybe I should review TAB next.........

Rowboat chokes Rolfe and throws him down, and everyone smirks. How are these characters adults? They’re all written like immature teenagers. Anyways, a bell rings out, signifying something bad.

Aelin watched as black - darker than the ink that had been etched there - spread across [Rolfe’s] fingers, to his palms. Black such as only the Valg could bring.

Please action scene I can’t handle one more “witty’ “banter” conversation between these assholes

The door banged open, and Rolfe’s towering figure filled it. “You.” Aelin put a hand on her chest. “Me?”

Pfft. I hated that I snickered at this, but I always laugh at the “dramatic hand on chest” joke.

“And what of your idealism—what of that child who stole two hundred slaves from me? You’d leave the people of this island to perish?” “Yes,” she said simply. “I told you, Rolfe, that Endovier taught me some things.” Rolfe swore. “Do you think Sam would stand for this?” “Sam is dead,” she said, “because men like you and Arobynn have power. But Arobynn’s reign is now over.” She smiled at the darkening horizon. “Seems like yours might end rather soon as well.”

Sam deserves better than this. He was an okay guy to my memory - not a poisonous fuck boy like Rowboat.

“Eight warships teeming with soldiers —at least a hundred on each, more on the lower levels I couldn’t see. They’re flanked by two sea-wyverns. All moving so fast that it’s like storm winds carry them.”

FUCK YEAAAH SEA DRAGONS LETS GO

Rolfe finally breaks down and agrees to join Alien’s war effort. Love it when one of the few good characters is kicked and beaten down to prop up the despicable protagonist. Then we swap to Dorian’s POV.

Aelin was insane, Dorian realized. Brilliant and wicked, but insane. And perhaps the greatest, most unremorseful liar he’d ever encountered.

Dorian, honey, you okay? Blink twice if Alien is holding you captive.

This war would not be won on smiles and manners. It would be won by a woman willing to gamble with an entire island full of people to get what she needed to save them all.

Yeah, doesn’t that make Alien likeable! I know war involves sacrifice and death but Jesus, could she feel even a little remorse? Innocent people may die today but Aelin’s head is so far up her own ass she doesn’t even care.

Fenrys kept at a distance from the others, but Gavriel remained close, his gaze still fixed on his son. Gods, they looked so much alike, moved alike, the Lion and the Wolf.

Stop ittttt Gavriel deserves better.....

Aelin tells Dorian to stay behind and the chapter ends. God, that was a lot of bullshit in two chapters.

#the worm talks #the worm reads: eos #anti sjm #anti tog #anti eos

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poutypanic · 7 years

Text

Finding Purpose Chapter 10

Fic Rating: Mature

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10529928/chapters/25177836

Chapter Summary: A lot of stuff gets resolved, and then there's some bonding time. I promise the whole chapter is not angst-ridden just bear with me, there's a lot of fluff too. (> ^_^ )>.

Fic Summary: You've been living alone in Hanamura for the past five years, and are content to stay that way. You have a troubled past and have let it isolate you. One night a ruckus is coming from the Shimada Castle. Against your better judgment you check it out, eventually, you end up befriending an archer with a past as equally troubling as yours.This is a romance/fluff and slow burn, coupled with action and angst.

Breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Repeat. In through the nose, and out through the mouth. In through the nose, out the mouth.

You’ve tried to find the most secluded part of the facility to try and not have a mental break down in. It’s not going that well for you. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this level of stress and worry. Along with a different kind of emotional hurt that you’ve never felt before. A deep and heavy sob is threatening to rip itself from your chest, and you're fighting it with every bit of willpower you’ve got left. You shouldn't fight it; you'll feel better after letting it out, but you're stubborn.

Alas, your emotions are out of your control, and you start to sob despite having tried so hard to keep it from happening. With your thighs pulled up against your chest, you bury your face into your knees and just let it happen.

“Hey friend, you mind if I join ya?”

Apparently, this spot isn’t secluded enough. Either that or he was trying to find you. Your eyes snap open. Jesse is standing a safe distance away from you, actually waiting for your permission, and won’t sit until you say it’s okay.

“Leave me alone, Jesse.”

Jesse huffs, “I think I can handle whatever it is that’s got your jimmies so rustled.”

You scowl at him, “My jimmies? Are you serious?”

“Yeah! I’m bein serious.” He pauses so he can pull a handkerchief from his pocket and steps close enough so he can hand it to you, “Ya’know he’s in the best hands possible.”

You stare at the handkerchief like it’s a venomous snake, coiled, and ready to lurch at you.

“I know that.”

Jesse frowns, “Would’ya take the fuckin thing? Your face is a mess.”

You take it from him and look away while you clean up your face.

“You should give talkin to me a chance; I might not disappoint ya.”

Fine. You point to the floor next to you, your way of giving him permission to sit.

“Did Hanzo let you know he got hurt? Or were you there when he got shot?”

Jesse furrows his eyebrows, “That’s gonna be a double negative.” He sits down and starts to connect the dots, “He didn’t let us know, did he?”

“Why would he do that? Why would he not tell you or me, the moment he got shot, or that he was hurt?”

“Ah, I see, that is strange isn't it.”

“Strange is an understatement.”

“I reckon, and this is just some speculation on my part, that maybe, it’s cause he’s still fightin with his demons.”

All you can do is hum nervously and shake your head. You really don’t understand. Or maybe you do. It's just hard to get past the denial, and you need more convincing.

Jesse is trying to be especially careful with his words, “No matter how much’cha love somebody, unfortunately, friend, ya can’t love their demons away. Trust me, I know from experience.”

“Hmm.” You get what he’s saying now. He’s right, even if you wish that wasn’t true. If only things could be that easy. You’re not sure what to do with the information, and Jesse can sense that.

He continues in an even more careful tone now, “I just think he could use a little bit’a help. Some uh, guidance, ya know? From somebody who knows what they’re doin.”

You agree. Now you just have to figure out how to put your own words together. How to talk to Hanzo about this without coming off angry and judgmental. That’s enough talking about this with anybody other than Hanzo; you don’t want to talk about Hanzo behind his back any more than you already have. So you would like to change the subject.

You tell Jesse thank you for the wisdom and then change the subject to Ana, “She still pissed at us? If I’m being really honest, I don't think I remember even half of what she was going off about.”

Jesse shrugs, “She’ll forgive us. I understand where she’s comin from. We coulda let her know we were leavin. She wouldna stopped us, wouldna told us no. We’re suppose’ta be a team around here, and leavin under a vale’a silence was very unteam like of us.”

“Huh, yeah. We sure didn’t stop to think about that did we?”

Jesse chuckles, “We sure as hell didn’t. You would’a thought at least one of us would’a stopped and thought, hmm, maybe we should at least leave’a note er somethin.”

Dr. Zeigler walks around the corner and finds both of the people she wanted to talk to, “Ah, Jesse. We’re moving Genji into a different location, and I could actually use some of your help with him.”

Then she turns her attention to you, “You can visit with Hanzo. He’s stable and awake. I’d like him to stay in the infirmary for a night or two. He needs to rest, though, so no funny business.”

What a ridiculous thing to demand of you at this current moment. Though if there’s one thing you’ve learned about Angela, it’s that she’s not good at picking up on vibes. So you don’t hold it against her. You quietly thank her and wait for them to disappear.

You sit there for couple more moments just trying to get some of the fog to clear from your brain. Even after you are able to get yourself up and moving, it’s still not enough to get yourself to walk through the infirmary door. You stand just outside it, giving yourself a stern talking to.

You have to handle this well. This is a test, and a big one that you can not fail. It’s going to be hard. Your feelings are hurt, and you've got a lot of emotional comfort invested in this asshole.

Breathe in through the nose, and out through the mouth.

You walk through the door. There he is, in a hospital bed, wrapped in up in medical dressings around his torso, and an IV dripping blood into his veins. He looks tired, the normal glowing sheen that usually accompanies his skin is not there right now. You take a seat on the edge of the bed.

Hanzo won’t look at you. He seems ashamed, is ashamed. With a clear mind, that’s not flooded with bad stress, he realizes that he was being irrational and acting on intrusive thoughts. He can only hope that you’ll forgive him. What a terribly impulsive, self-destructive decision. But the truth is he’d been making those same kind of self-destructive decisions for nearly a decade. Even the most harmless of bad habits are hard to break. So it's going to be a little hard to break the bad coping mechanism he's had for years now, and he’s lucky it hasn't killed him yet.

“I’m not going to ask you why you didn't say anything, why you were just letting yourself bleed out. Jesse could have been helping you long before me and Genji got back. I’m not stupid, and I think I already know why.”

From the moment he had heard that Genji was hurt, it had started to feel like a downward spiral. Your description of him over the comm hadn’t nearly given justice to just how bad he looked. Seeing Zenyatta in the same kind of shape, the omnic that helped his brother comes to terms with what he had done to him, with his new body, and a new way of living. All those moments when he couldn’t get you to talk to him. When that dragon’s roar was all he could focus on, and somehow he knew something terrible was threatening to happen. He knows it's not his fault, yet it still felt that way, and still kind of does.

Hanzo says quietly, “I should have known sooner.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I should have known that my brother was in trouble sooner. Maybe then, things would not have gone so poorly.”

“There you go with the what if’s again. Besides, how the hell were you supposed to know sooner?”

“If our connection was not so broken. The dragons could have communicated.”

“So, what? Is bleeding out supposed to be your fucking penance for that!” You throw up your hands. Breath in through the mouth, out through the nose. Wait, no, that's not right. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to yell at you.”

You’ve got too much nervous energy to sit. So you hop up off the bed, and Hanzo nearly tries to get up after you. He wishes he could just promise that this will not happen again. But he already knows you wouldn’t believe him, nor does he really believe himself when he thinks that. So he refrains from blatantly lying to you.

“Do not go. I am sorry, this is just… who I am.”

Now you look at him, “I’m not leaving, and that’s bull shit. Just because you can’t help those thoughts doesn't mean it's who you are. They don’t define you as a person. There’s more to you than just that, so stop it.”

The last part of that sentence was childish, sounded childish, and you don't care.

“Do you truly believe that.”

“Yes. I do.”

If only your commands could wield enough power to make such things go away. Hanzo understands what you're saying but couldn't possibly begin to figure out how to make this better, “What I am I to do about it.”

“Get some help. From someone who can give you the guidance you need to combat those impulses when they arise.”

That sounds nearly impossible, “I do not know if anyone could.”

You get close to him your face inches from his, “I think you mean, you don’t know if you’d be willing to try. Hanzo, I will not allow you to let me love you this much if you plan on dying out in the field. You have to try."

Hanzo looks pained and is struggling to find words, “How do you expect me to let a stranger help with this?”

You don’t know how to answer that question so you continue to try and beg, “If you get help, I’ll get help. I’d be full of shit if I said I couldn’t use it.”

Hanzo looks away from you, still refusing to even say he’ll try. This is critical. As you're not sure if you can do this, any of this, if he refuses to get the guidance he needs. You wouldn't be able to focus on missions, keep an alert and clear head, if you're constantly worried that Hanzo might get hurt, and not report it again. Then your mind starts to spiral. You couldn’t leave, can’t give up on him, even if he refused. What kind of person would that make you? And who would look after him? Besides all of those points, you love him, you'd miss him, and it kills you to even think about walking away from something with so much promise...

“Alright, I will try asking for help. Even if it feels… ignominious.”

Your eyes roll. You’d argue against that last statement, but you’re just relieved that he’s up for the prospect of even trying. Even if he thinks it’s something as ridiculous as, embarrassing. Then you correct yourself. No, it’s not ridiculous, not coming from a person with his background.

Hanzo reaches out and wipes tears away from your cheeks. Tears you weren’t even aware had escaped, “I am sorry for causing you so much distress. Please do not give up on me.”

A wave of guilt floods your body, before a flood of relief replaces it. Could he sense your desperation? He must have. Then again, how could he not have? Right now it’s just words, just a promise, but it’ll have to do. And you’ll have to have faith in him.

“I think I’m in far too deep to ever be able to do that.”

He smiles meekly, “Would it make you feel better to know I feel the same?”

You plop down onto the bed and playfully say, “Maybe.”

He takes a hold of your hand and kisses your knuckles, your palm, and your wrist. He holds your hand against his face and whispers, “I love you.”

No more crying goddamnit, “I love you too.”

A deep and almost musical voice comes from the back of the room, “I am most delighted to hear such calm resolutions!”

Despite the voice sounding pleasant and non-threatening, you and Hanzo both nearly jump out of your skin. You look behind you, searching the room for the source of the voice.

“Hello?”

“Greetings! If you would be so kind, I was wondering, if perhaps you could tell me if my student is doing well?”

You gently pull back the curtain that surrounds a bed at the back of the room. On this bed lies Zenyatta, who is attached to many wires and still not looking quite whole yet.

“I think you’re talking about Genji? He’s fine; he’s just getting fixed up right now.”

“Ah, I see. Thank you.”

You introduce yourself. Normally you wouldn’t introduce Hanzo for him, but right now it seems appropriate. When you do so, Zenyatta already knows who he is. Of course, he does.

“Hanzo! Yes, I know you. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Same to you.”

“I apologize for not having interjected earlier than I did, but I felt it was best for the two of you to come to your own conclusions before I interjected.”

The thought, ‘Shouldn't you be mad this guy was eavesdropping?’ crosses your mind. But the thing is your not, it’s as if the omnic was meant to hear the conversation, “What do you mean?”

“I would be happy and privileged to help the both of you in your journey to mental enlightenment. I do believe I am more than qualified to do so. I am not trying to come off as arrogant, just confident. I strongly believe I can help you reach better mental clarity.” He raises one of his arms in an excited manner, “My student can vouch for my qualifications! Please, ask him.”

Whatever it is about Zenyatta that gives off an aura of calm and kindness makes you believe him, and you don't really feel the need to check with Genji. Hanzo has heard plenty about the omnic from his brother and is actually shocked he didn't think to make the suggestion himself. It’s understandable that such a thing would slip his mind while he’s hurt and also trying to fight the idea itself altogether. This is as ideal as this could get. Hanzo has heard so much about Zenyatta, that he doesn't feel like a complete stranger to him. The idea still doesn't sit comfortably yet. But yes, if Zenyatta is willing to try and help him, then he can certainly try and let him.

It's been nearly a week since Zenyatta has been back up and running. He's taken the time to stop and catch up with each and every one of his friends. He is delighted to see his best friend and student Genji back to his optimal shape. And he's feeling even more delighted and privileged to have both his brother and him sitting on either side of him meditating before they get into a session of much-needed guidance and enlightenment.

As Hanzo is only human, he hasn't fully recovered, but he can tell that he is doing well. Zenyatta has always been able to see what people call auras, though, to him, it's more of a sense than a thing he actually sees. Hanzo is not nearly as helpless as he thinks he is, and Zenyatta is even more confident still that these sessions will do wonders for him. Hanzo is already good with discipline. He just needs fine tuning and more mental convergence. Zenyatta has never met a hopeless cause, and Hanzo is far, far from that.

Zenyatta is deep into his meditation. Most days he finds it easy to slip into a place of tranquility. Though today, he is about to be tested.

Genji grumbles, "You know brother you don't need to not wear a shirt all the time.”

He is shocked that Genji isn’t more focused. Zenyatta knows he’s more than capable. Perhaps he is more nervous than he is letting on.

Hanzo grumbles back, ”Says the person who never wears anything at all.”

“I think that’s hardly the same thing.”

Hanzo sighs, ”If you must know, the cloth feels heavy on my wound. It catches on the dressings, and it is uncomfortable."

"Uh huh. Just because I haven't been around here, doesn't mean there aren’t people I can't ask to see if you wear a shirt on a regular basis."

Hanzo opens his eyes and slaps his knees, "Why does this matter?"

Genji says with a purposeful overdramatic inflection, “Cause I do not appreciate you lying to me brother."

As with most situations of conflict, Zenyatta is patiently waiting to see if this will resolve itself. Though he will soon realize that even with two adult men, who on a regular basis are more than capable of being mature, will regress to childlike unresolvable quarrels when in the presence of a sibling. He listens as Genji threatens to go to you for information.

"Do not bring her into this nonsense!"

"Oh, I wonder why! Huh? Cause she knows the truth! Your no-shirt-judging truth!"

Zenyatta sighs as they continue to bicker with each other, "My students! Please. Just, chill out."

"I am not the one being immature,” Hanzo says as he stares Genji down.

"I'm going to find out your truth brother."

“Dramatic. There is nothing to find out.“

Zenyatta hums, “Perhaps this is a quarrel that can be resolved at a later time?”

Genji laughs, “I am just messing with him Master, but now I’m intrigued. What is the truth?”

“I wear clothes. You truly think I walk around here trying to look like a tool?”

A sly grin spreads across Genji’s face, “You are making this far too easy for me.”

Hanzo points to Zenyatta, “Your Master is wearing pants, and yet you are not. Please explain that to me.”

They continue to bicker about the proper etiquette surrounding wearing, and not wearing, certain items of clothing or none at all. Zenyatta is about to break out his conflict resolution skills, when something occurs to him. They are actually having fun. Amusing themselves by arguing over something trivial. In turn, it’s making them more at ease than the actual meditation is.

So he puts his hands into his lap, lets his orbs float mindlessly around him while he observes the display of sibling banter, and tries to gather a better understanding for future sessions. Not to mention, he is rather entertained.

Hanzo sits in his room, practicing some of the tranquility exercises Zenyatta had asked him to get more acquainted with. He had asked, with a little bit of shame, if music would be appropriate during these exercises. Zenyatta had informed him that whatever he needs to do to achieve deeper states would be appropriate. Music can be therapeutic and calming. Music taps into human emotions and can improve focus and impulse control. So Zenyatta highly recommends that he use it.

He’s got his earbuds in, sitting cross-legged in a computer chair. It’s nothing especially comfortable, but Hanzo finds it to be perfect for his task at hand. He's not sure how much time passes, before he opens his eyes and starts to roll his shoulders. He almost falls out of his seat, because you're sitting on the bed in front of him, in the same stance, and he has no idea when you got here. You look endearing and casual. Wearing no pants, navy blue underwear, and a simple t-shirt. He removes the earbuds and gently places them on the desk.

You open one eye to look at him briefly before closing it again, "This is really difficult, I just keep thinking about food. I'm not even hungry."

"That is not so bad. A harmless thing to think about. Truthfully I thought about food a lot, but I am hungry.”

“Of course you’re hungry.” Your eyes remain closed, “Are things going well?”

While you’re not explicit about what you’re asking about, he knows. “Yes, and much better than I had anticipated.”

“Does it feel like something you can stick with?“

“Absolutely. Zenyatta has a better way with words and meditation than anyone I have ever met. Nearly every piece of guidance he gives is… clarifying.”

He hadn’t realized it before, but you were holding your breath. When you start to breathe again, it becomes extremely obvious. Like you had been preparing yourself for an answer that you wouldn’t like. That hurts, but he doesn't blame you. It’s understandable, and the feeling passes quickly when you smile and finally open your eyes.

“You have no idea how great it is to hear that.”

“I have some idea.”

He frowns as your eyes linger on the bandages that are still wrapped around his torso.

Hanzo thinks you’re staring because you’re tired of seeing him wrapped up like this, “Hopefully, I won’t need to wear these for much longer.”

He’s wrong, “Is it messed up that I think you look kinda hot with all bandaged up like that? I mean, I don’t think it’s sexy that you're hurt. It just...looks good for some reason.”

He laughs, “The only thing ‘messed up’ about what you just said is the word ‘kinda’.”

You absolutely love the answer he gave you. It causes your eyes to light up with lust. You slowly get up from the bed and walk towards him.

"Well, if I'm being truthful, food wasn't the only thing I was thinking about."

"Hmm, also a nice thing to let your mind wonder to.”

Hanzo can feel his heart quicken as you drop down to your knees in front of him. You gingerly take a hold of his ankles and remove him from his position. Now you're between his legs, leisurely pulling his pants down enough for you to get at what you want.

He’d lean back, close his eyes, and relax. But Hanzo enjoys watching as your head bobs up and down far too much. With the added pleasure of seeing you with your hand down in your underwear. You’re humming and moaning, and every sound coming from your mouth is sending a pang from his head all the way down into the space you're making feel warm and wet.

The way you look up at him through your eyelashes as you continue to lovingly get him off is making him feel weak. Your mouth is soft and delicately textured. You’re enthusiastic but gentle. You take all of him in and your back arches slightly as your body tries to reject it. But you quickly are able to relax and resume massaging circles within your underwear.

You’re making him feel so good that it is causing him shake a little. He weaves an unsteady hand into your hair and gently grasps hard enough to get a small whine out of you. It makes you even more enthusiastic, and he can feel the pressure within his body getting ready to release itself.

“Ah,” he whispers your name. “You feel good, you're so…ah… ah..”

With him still in your mouth, you smile, and he's had enough. He tries his best to keep his hips from bucking into your face, but a few small ones escape him. You don’t mind though as you were ready for them.

When you release him from your mouth, you sit back and continue to try and finish yourself off, all while lovingly looking up at him from the floor.

There's no way he'd leave you to take care of yourself. No matter how lovely the sight of it may be. So he gets down onto the floor with you, takes you by the waist, and lays you back. He lays down next to you and uses one of his legs to keep yours spread apart. Hanzo takes both of your hands and places them onto his face.

As his hand replaces your removed one, you pull him forward and kiss him passionately. He returns every bitten lip, every flick of your tongue laced with fire. You roll your hips up into his hand. Your hands on his face turn into arms tightly wrapped around his neck. You pry yourself from his mouth so you can throw your head back as you come.

“Ah! Ah! Hanzo! Oh, Baby…” You groan, “Fuck…”

He chuckles against your cheek, because your poor neighbor, Lena, is bound to hear that. He doesn’t care about being embarrassed and doesn't try to quiet you. He kisses your neck and runs his hand along your chest, groping lightly, until your breathing has slowed down to a normal rhythm.

He whispers into your ear, “Dinner?”

All you can seem to be able to do is hum, and he takes that as a yes.

The next day, there's a spontaneous party that’s broken out in the mess hall. Every single agent is there. There's plenty of booze, music, and loud banter. You had gotten here long before Hanzo had, since he had a particularly long session with Zenyatta today. So you're already fairly under the influence and having a grand time.

When he gets there, he leans against a wall with a drink that was shoved into his hand by Jesse. He's not planning on having much. It wouldn't be good for him right now. He's just observing, as you haven't noticed him arrive yet. You look to be having an animated… what is that? An argument? A conversation? With Hana. He can never tell with the two of you.

You look towards the doorway looking for someone, and apparently, that was him. Because you open mouth grin, wave at him, and run over. You slow down as you approach him so you can give him a careful hug. He gives you a kiss on the forehead as you nuzzle into the crook of his arm.

He has you like this for a while. But you're full of energy, and he knows he'll have to release you soon. You dance, well, more like wiggle, against his side to the beat of the music. Then Hana chooses a song that makes you very excited.

"Hana! Holy shit this song is OLD!"

Hana is already clapping her hands together, and dancing, "It's still fun! Come here lady, dance with me!"

Hanzo doesn't know what song this is. He’s never heard it before, but apparently, several other agents also know the song and start to sing along as the lyrics start up. It is a very whimsical, uptempo song with lots of keyboard, and it certainly does sound old. But as Hana had exclaimed, it is fun, and the lyrics are easy enough to catch onto. You're practically bouncing now, so Hanzo gives you a small push of encouragement, and off into a little dance huddle you go.

Hanzo can't think about a damn thing while you’re enthusiastically swinging your hips, shaking your shoulders, and singing along with the rest of the group. You've got the biggest smile, and you're having so much fun. It's the cutest sight, and he's happy to just be able to witness it. These are the kinds of moments he likes to live for these days.

But then he happens to see his brother sneaking away from the party. Hanzo scans the crowd for Jesse and finds him seated with Lena and Reinhardt, who's got the pup seated in his lap, and if that's not one of the most ridiculous things he's ever seen. Hanzo is curious as to why Genji would be fleeing a scene that seems to be made for him. So he follows.

When Hanzo finds him he's sitting outside in the grass of the track and field meditating. He takes a seat next to him and starts to meditate with him.

He quietly questions, ”Not a fan of the party brother?"

"No, not today, I'm afraid."

Interesting, ”May I ask why?"

Genji takes a minute to respond, "Only if you're prepared for the answer to possibly make you feel bad."

"I am prepared."

“Parties… they are a shared experience. Where everyone is under the influence, acting like idiots. Especially that one. I can't get drunk, so sometimes I get a little envious of the pleasure I can't partake in. Today is one of those days; it will pass."

Hanzo chuckles.

Genji side-eyes him, "What?"

"Since when do you need alcohol in order to act like an idiot?"

Genji can't help but laugh, "Thanks, brother."

"Would it make you feel better if I did not drink?"

"You don't have to do that."

"Actually I do, doctors orders.” He starts to get back on his feet, “Come, we will both be sober idiots amongst all of the drunk ones."

Genji laughs, "Are you calling yourself an idiot?"

Hanzo shrugs, "Do you mean to tell me you disagree?"

They look at each other, and for a moment, it feels as if it's a decade in the past before the tensions in the clan had risen to breaking levels. For the first time, it feels like this is going to work. They can maintain this.

Genji’s sight briefly grazes over the bandages that still are wrapped around Hanzo. They are starting to become less and less with each day but it’s still a reminder, “No. You are the biggest idiot I know."

Hanzo claps his hands, "Then it is settled; let’s go.”

Genji looks back at Hanzo as he starts to walk off, “Why do you, of all people, want to go back to the party so bad?”

Hanzo shrugs. He wants to go back because he knows he’s missing out on some great shenanigans. He’d like Genji to come with him so they can both perhaps experience some fun memories together. He feels that’d be something worth sharing.

Genji grins, “Is it cause your girlfriends being cute?”

“Perhaps. I would imagine by now Jesse has to be doing something ridiculous.”

Genji hops up, “We are missing out, aren’t we?”

They walk back into the mess hall together, while making bets on who they think will be the first person to get up on a table to dance. Genji thinks it will be either you, Lucio or Hana. Hanzo knows better and does not bet on you. You won’t be doing that unless someone is already up there and invites you to join them. So he places his bets on Lucio, and Genji settles on Hana. They’re both wrong. It’s Satya who’s the first to get up on a table. But it’s not long before Lucio and Hana join her. Then not much longer 'til they drag you up there with them.

As the party starts to settle down, several agents move into the common room. Here is where Hana convinces many people to play video games with her, including Hanzo and Genji. You’re far too tired and far too gone to even try. Hanzo’s got several pillows supporting his back against the couch on the floor, and you’re settled in between his legs with your head resting against one of his shoulders.

Hana’s chosen a racing game, that everyone can easily learn how to play. Surprisingly, Hanzo is pretty good at it, and surpassing Genji every time. The master, however, is Hana, who nearly always ends up in first place.

“Hey, brother aren’t you supposed to be cooler than me? Why are you losing so badly?”

You chuckle, “Yeah, Genji, why do’ya suck?”

Jesse, who’s not playing but giving words of encouragement, sitting on the couch with Genji, leans forward, so he can see you, “Woman, your eyes aren’t even open.”

“I don’ need to see to know.”

Genji retorts, “The both of you can shit talk all you want, but I’m catching up!”

As the night grows older, some agents retire to their rooms. While others simply fall asleep for the night in the common room. You’ve fallen asleep, but you had scooted down to use his thigh as a pillow and are now covered by a blanket that Lucio threw over you before he and Hana left. Jesse’s taking up most of the couch, passed out, using Genji’s lap as a pillow, hat over his face, and snoring not so softly.

It’s very late, and Hanzo is starting to feel delirious. So he gently gets situated on the floor with you, while Genji is harping on him about being tired.

“You’re getting old.”

“It’s three in the morning.”

“Funny that you’re tired now that I’ve started winning.”

Hanzo huffs, “You’ve only started winning, because I am tired.”

Genji may be poking fun, but he’s still doing the same thing Hanzo is doing. Getting settled in for what's left of the rest of the night.

“I'm sure you believe that.”

This could go on for another hour, “Good. Night. Genji.”

“Yeah, yeah. Good night, brother.”

#hanzo shimada x reader #hanzo shimada #ovw #poutypanic writes

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