#the first fourth is pretty calm i think - not much happens so i dunno if it'll take as long as i think it will | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skellebonez · 3 years

Note

Could you write 22 “Oh, you’re just grumpy” with Monkie King and a deage MK?

OOOOH coming back to this? Yeah, I am totally up for giving this another go! MK is having a not so great time, nothing warning worthy but I do HC him not being the healthiest kid. Mild spoilers for season 2 episodes 1 and 2.

Oh, you're just grumpy.

"Noooooooo!" MK shouted, stomping his foot on the ground in anger. "I'm not grumpy, I'm mad! You can't let them leave me behind! Take me back! I'm the Monkie Kid! I have to do this myself! I-"

"You are currently physically 4 years old with all the control over your powers of that age," Sun Wukong rebutted with a soft sigh, frowning and wincing at the high pitched angered scream in reaction he received at that. That was... not the best way to go about this... He needed a different tactic.

He knelt down to be at eye level with his now even younger protégé, holding out his hand. When MK stared at it he chanced putting it on his shoulder and continued when MK didn’t shrug it off or start yelling again. “Bud, MK, it’s ok. I know you’re frustrated. You have every right to be! But we just want to make sure you’re safe until we can get you back to normal.”

This was not the kind of trouble the Monkey King expected to happen immediately before... well, put a cork on that for now. But this wasn't the kind of trouble be expected to happen regardless of time frame. How in the world anyone managed to not only curse an object in this way but find a way to slip it on his student was anyone's guess. But the fact of the matter was that MK, the Monkie Kid himself, was now physically 4 years old. Mentally, he was still the same age he was before the curse, personality and memories still completely intact... for the most part, it became clear to them very quickly that being physically a kid again came with more than just a smaller body. It came with the mood swings and heightened emotions of “kid brain” as Mei called it, when MK immediately burst into tears at just the mention of being left behind so Mei and the others could go after the demon. And then he couldn’t figure out why he was crying, whether from frustration or worry or both or why he even started, which lead to more crying out of sheer confusion, which made everyone feel very bad.

They’d managed to calm him down long enough for the Monkey King get him on his cloud and bring him to Flower Fruit Mountain in case the demon attempted to go after him like this, but that was short lived once they actually made landfall.

"But I can do this!" MK continued, pouting and tears of frustration starting to peak at the corners of his eyes once again, albeit calmer frustration. "I-I beat the Spider Queen! I can handle one demon who had to slap a bracelet on me to make me a kid to beat me, even if I'm tiny! I can kick his butt!"

"I know you can, Bud," Wukong said evenly, offering him an understanding smile. "And normally I'd let you go in guns blazing and know you could handle everything no problem now! You've more than proven you can handle stuff even I couldn't. If you were just shrunk I wouldn’t dare think you couldn’t handle this." He reached out a hand, ruffling his hair far more gently that he normally would. But still rough, rough enough to let him know he wasn't going to just treat him like glass now. "But this is a bit different. Remember what I said when Macaque was having you use your full power?” MK scowled for a second before nodding. “Using your powers like this? Could hurt you. And I don’t want to see you get hurt like that. Heck, even I would have trouble controlling my powers and probably get hurt if I was turned into a little kid monkey man, and if this happened to me I would trust you if you told me to stay safe."

"... you would?" MK asked softly, and Wukong nodded. Maybe it was a... bit of a stretch of the truth. Sun Wukong would probably need some convincing too (Great Sage title leading to Great Misjudgement sometimes, the previously mentioned Spider Queen fight a key example), but that's just one more thing he and MK had in common.

"Course I would,” Wukong said, and given said convincing that was the truth. “I trust you, MK, and-AGH!" He may be the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, but nothing prepared him for the barreling rocket that was a 4 year old launching themselves at him to hug him with all the strength of... well, himself!

"I trust you too!" MK yelled right in his ear and oh if he thought his student had a loud yell before. But that only lasted for a second before he pulled back from the hug, body limp and head rested on his shoulder as the energy seemed to sap a bit from him as Wukong stood back up and he held him on his hip instead of setting him down when he saw the bright red rings around his eyes and how tired he seemed already... Tang had mentioned that he knew MK wasn’t exactly the healthiest as a child... "But... I feel bad not doing anything..."

"Then we can do something, that's an easy fix!" Wukong laughed, and his chest warmed as he was reminded of the few children he had helped take care of or play with while on the long journey centuries ago. He was a softie, really. "No training though, I am not going to body slam you when you come up to my knees."

This apparently was the magic joke to make, making MK devolve into a fit of giggles. A testament to how this cursed object affected him, he never would have giggled at that without it. Probably... MK had an odd sense of humor sometimes. But then again, so did he!

"Actually... I think I have just the thing for us to try."

All things considered, Wukong probably should have expected something like this. He did tell MK that he probably didn’t have much control over his powers. And that using his powers was a bad idea. And Tang did warn him he wasn’t a healthy child. The three together were a bad combo when his powers activated with MK’s unconscious reactions to certain things...

“How you feeling, Bud?” Wukong whispered softly, rubbing his back as he laid face down on his couch. He’d barely used his powers at all, just activated his true sight to find ingredients when they were cooking without even thinking about it, but that was enough to make the kid’s head feel like it was splitting open (in symptoms that sounded like a migraine, which... yeah, he felt really bad for him, and the jolt of worry and fear that shot through him surprised him less than he felt it should). “Still bad?”

There were a few of Wukong’s monkeys hanging out on the couch, one in particular was curled up next to MK’s head. Perhaps they were keeping him company while he wasn’t feeling well and nodded off in the process.

“I think I’m ok now,” MK answered, sitting back up and leaning into the Monkey King’s side (he seemed to seek out contact a lot more like this, letting Wukong carry him to the house, leaning on his shoulder when he showed him how to prepare the snacks they were making, now this... it made him wonder just how much physical affection he got as a kid). He looked leagues better than he had just 40 minutes ago, thankfully not nearly as exhausted as he had looked before he laid down. “Headache went away... I dunno, a while ago. But I didn’t wanna get up.”

“Completely understandable,” Wukong nodded in approval, glad that he’d gotten some form of rest. He needed it after everything he had been through. “You feel like getting up now, though? I made us some lunch... dinner... not desert food! Just like I promised.”

“Yeah!” MK exclaimed, immediately jumping off the couch and making his way to the kitchen like a rocket. “How about our snacks, how much longer do they have? Do you think we did ok? Do you think the others are gonna like em!?”

“They still have well over an hour of sitting in the fridge,” Wukong laughed, following him and watching him scramble to sit on one of the chairs at the table. “But I think we did a pretty good job of making annin tofu for the first time. They already look pretty darn delicious.” The almond jelly dish wasn’t as hard as he believed it would be, and using agar even he would be able to enjoy it... once he added some peaches on top, of course! “But that’s for later, for now what do you think of your meal?” MK looked up from his bowl, a spoonful of rice and vegetables already in his mouth. Wukong couldn’t help but laugh. “I think I’ll take that as a job well done.”

The two ate their respective lunches, rice and steamed vegetables for MK and rice and fruits for Wukong, talking about what dishes they could try making together in the future. Being a monkey Wukong had a very limited pallet for what he could (and would, given other circumstances) actually eat, so brainstorming workaround for that was a great way to pass the time before moving back to the couch. They played some, shockingly not Sun Wukong related, games that he had stashed away (and he was very offended by MK’s disbelief that he had media not related to himself in his house, totally offended). The game was one of those ones with a motion controller that you had to move around to play, and MK was having a blast with it.

The monkeys also seemed to be enjoying the show quite a lot.

Before the two knew it the sun had begun to set, MK’s grip on his controller starting to weaken as he sat down on the couch and attempted to keep his eyes open. Even with his rest earlier he was exhausted.

“Did anyone... tell you anything yet?” He asked softly, once again leaning into Wukong’s side with a yawn.

“Not yet,” Wukong admitted, looking at MK’s phone for the fourth time in he hour. “Not since they told me they found out where the demon went. But that probably means they’re focused on catching him! They’re gonna get the guy, I have a good feeling about it.”

“If you say so...” MK mumbled out, the controller slipping from his grasp as he closed his eyes.

“UH.. Bud? MK?” Wukong gently nudged his student, smiling softly when he realized that he’d just fallen asleep. “OK, that game clearly did it’s job a little too well.” He made to stand up, stopping short when something tugged on his clothing. MK had an iron grip on him, holding tight to his side and not looking like he was going to be letting go any time soon.

Well... Wukong didn’t have the heart to make him let go or chance waking him up to move him... so instead he took a hair and poofed up a blanket to lay over top of MK as he made himself comfortable on the side of the couch. It didn’t take long, and it took even less time for the monkeys around the house to curl up around and on top of the duo.

It was nice... Wukong didn’t want to admit it, but he was going to miss this. Not just when MK was changed back to his normal age, but when he had to... “go on vacation”.

He felt bad, lying to his student. His kid, now that he realized he couldn’t keep from admitting that to himself. But he trusted MK, genuinely trusted him in this regard, to keep everyone in the city safe while he was gone and he didn’t want the extra stress of knowing just what Wukong was really doing to weigh him down. He knew how much MK worried, seen how much anxiety he had after Macaque and the fight with the Spider Queen, how hard it would be to keep him from following him into places that were too dangerous for him to traverse without training they hadn’t completed yet.

He... really regretted not training him more in the beginning. Regretted it more than most things he had lately. Maybe if he had he could have explained things to him better. Known that if he did sneakily follow him he would at least be in much less danger.

He couldn’t let himself be too close after this. He’d have to go back to normal, aloof, jokey, “ah you’re fine cool beans good luck bud I believe in you!” Monkey King. For MK’s sake.

As he looked down at the sleeping child curled into his side he had to make himself believe it was for MK’s sake.

Why did that feel like it was a lie?

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #gen fic #deage fic #mk #qi xiaotian #monkey kid #sun wukong #dad wukong #kinda #SPACER TAG FOR HIDING SPOILERS ALL LOVE TO THE SPACER TAG #oops I made it SAD #are you even surprised?#someone is in denial about the possible consequences of their actions #WUKONG MAKE BETTER CHOICES THIS IS NOT THE WAY TO DO THIS #prompt fill

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a-sour-nectarine · 3 years

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Summary:

The memories froze him. He didn't realize that Obi-Wan was calling his name, increasingly urgent, or that the water had reached his hips. It was cold, not as cold as it had been back on Kamino, but still just above freezing. He could almost imagine the crimson light of the clock, the sneering face of the trainer. The trainer hadn't been inherently cruel, but years of torturing little boys did something to the psyche.

So Cody suspected, at least.

Finally, a cry of "Cody!" woke him from his reverie. Obi-Wan was sobbing on the other side of the chamber, in a way Cody have never seen him cry, hand gripping his hair tightly enough to stretch the skin above his ear.

The water was up to his chest now, and rising fast, and the panic was still tight in his chest, but he made himself look Obi-Wan in the eyes. Before he did though, he caught his own gaze. His face was smooth in the crystal, no scar marring his temple. He absently wondered how anyone would be able to tell who he was, stuck in a child's body with no scar.

Notes:

Everyone shut up, I was supposed to post this last night, but I fell asleep. I am aware that it's Monday. Don't want to hear it.

This is my fourth and final submission for Codywan Week 2021! I really tried to do all seven days, but for my first ever event like this, I don't think I did too bad.

Prompt is an alt, Sith/Jedi Artifact Shenanigans.

"Um, commander?"

"What, Waxer?" Cody said irritably, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Day three in the remains of this stupid temple, and Cody, General Kenobi, Waxer, Boil, and six shinies, all yet to be named, had been grating on each other's nerves nonstop.

"You might want to... um... check in a mirror."

"Lieutenant, unless you have a mirror with you, that's not gonna happen."

"I just, um. Hold on. I'll take a picture, send it to your HUD."

Seconds later, said picture showed up in front of Cody's eyes. "Oh, Force."

A sleepy voice from the back of the room piped up. "Force what?"

Cody removed his helmet and shared a look with Waxer. That was not a brother, but it didn't quite sound like the General either, meaning....

"Hey, General, you might wanna come over here." Waxer shrugged at Cody as he called out. Sure enough, the figure making it's way over to them was not the General, or, at least, not the General they were used to. He looked like a cadet.

Well, so did Cody, so who was he to judge?

"Oh, Cody!" Obi-Wan exclaimed once he noticed the commander's state. He didn't seem to be able to stop the smile pulling at his mouth.

"Ah-ah, speak for yourself, General."

Obi-wan squinted down at his robes, which were the same as the ones he went to sleep in. He was drowning in them, looking only slightly less ridiculous than Cody did in his oversized armor. "Well, this is unfortunate."

Boil snorted. "Maybe one of you is small enough to fit through that hole now.

The General lit up. "Brilliant, Boil. Someone boost me up."

Boil snorted again, but followed him to the far wall. It had been pretty destroyed in the explosion, though still pretty effective in keeping the ten of them trapped. But maybe, now that Cody and Obi-Wan were smaller...

"Wait, wait, we aren't going to address the fact that we are– small? What caused it?"

Obi-Wan's lips quirked up in a smile, and Cody noticed how much more expressive he was when clean-shaven. "Well, I suspect it was caused by the artifact that also triggered the explosion that trapped us here. So, personally, I'd rather worry about it later." He held up the small slate of rock, carved with languages none of them could read.

Cody gaped for a second. That was pretty good thing to say if Obi-Wan wanted all the men to immediately lose faith in either himself or Cody. They had never disagreed in front of the troops, no matter how minor the issue. Equally unusual, he felt the urge to snap back. It was like he was four all over again— Oh. He was, wasn't he?

"Alright, but if you make it through, expect me to follow."

"I was hoping you'd say that." Obi-Wan chirped, grinning like he had just won some huge award.

Turned out that they both did fit, though Cody had to get shoved through and his shoulders got a little scraped up. But it was worth it for the first breath of fresh air outside.

Obi-Wan turned to him, eyes wide, and laughed. "I was honestly not positive that would work."

Cody couldn't help but join him in his laughter, breathless and a little manic, before a voice called out from inside the rubble.

"Will you two grow up and go find a damn signal?"

That was definitely Boil, no one else would speak like that to their COs, even if their COs were children. Cody couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah, yeah, old man. We're going." Cody really was just content with losing all respect, wasn't he. Eh, he was four, he was allowed to be petulant. Besides, he doubted that the eight people still trapped under the debris would be telling anyone else. Not because he trusts them, hells no, but because the situation was almost as embarrassing for them as it was for him and Obi-Wan. After all, they were the ones whose shebs would be saved by children.

Obi-Wan held out his hand, and Cody took it without a second thought, not that he had time to. The Jedi took off the second he had a hold on Cody's fingers. They ran up to the closest hill they could find and surveyed the landscape. Nothing but red grass and blue flowers and crumbling old ruins as far as the eye could see. It was almost beautiful.

Until it started raining.

A couple of light drops of water was all the warning they got before the sky opened, absolutely soaking them immediately. Cody groaned and took off again–-still attached to Obi-Wan–-towards the nearest gray, stone building that looked like it still had a ceiling. As soon as they made it inside, they heaved out twin sighs of relief. The building wasn't completely waterproof, but it was good enough. They made their way into the middle of the floor, where there was the least amount of leakage, and Cody shook himself savagely. The rain outside was not slowing, in fact, it seemed to only get heavier as time went on. Lightning flashed every few seconds. The thunder was constant, but could barely be heard over the sound of the rain.

And then the walls came down.

Not "came down," as in they fell. "Came down," as in a separate set of walls dropped in from the soggy ceiling, completely (and separately) entombing Cody and the General. The walls were some kind of clear glass or crystal, faceted and almost completely transparent. The wall between them had gaps in it, sort of decoratively symmetrical.

"Uhh, Commander?"

"Yeah, sir, I noticed." Cody pounded on the wall, and it didn't even crack. Not glass, then. His enhanced strength would have taken care of glass that thick, child body or no.

In spite of the situation, Obi-Wan giggled, his voice echoing oddly from the other side of the crystal. "Cody, please don't call me "sir," it feels strange. I'm eleven."

"How can you possibly know how old you are?"

"No scar on my thumb. I rub it when I'm nervous, but right now there's nothing to rub."

"How do you know you aren't– I dunno, nine?"

"Just a guess, I suppose. I feel too tall to be nine. You, on the other hand, look younger than that."

Cody quickly crunched the numbers in his head. "S'pose that would make sense, if it's relative. I'm developmentally about 10 years younger than you. Twenty-four to thirty-five, eight to eleven."

"You're ignoring the fact that we are trapped."

"Yes, I am."

"That doesn't change the situation."

"I'm aware. But, as previously stated, I am eight years old. Four, actually. I'm trying not to panic. How are you calm?"

"Oh, I'm not. I'm actually fighting off a panic attack, if I am to be frank. This is almost exactly how Qui-Gon died, with me trapped on the other side of a ray shield. I just keep talking because it seems to distract me."

Cody cursed himself. He knew that, and it should have occurred to him that this was probably Obi-Wan's worst nightmare. He kicked his feet along the bottom of the wall, and noticed a particularly concerning fact. The crystal was growing. Not just randomly growing, it seemed to be specifically growing to cover the holes in the wall, creeping up and up. And, as if that wasn't worrisome enough, Cody's feet were wet. Not from the rain, but from the water seeping up from the floor. It was rapidly climbing higher, just a little below the level of growing crystal. The sound was rather pleasant, Cody noted, but he also noted that Obi-Wan's side of the little prison was completely dry.

The irony was not lost on him. And the irony was pretty kriffed up.

And it got worse once Obi-Wan noticed. The Jedi just let out a hysterical little laugh, and started pacing. "Wow, how wonderful."

"Hey, Ge–Obi-Wan, it's okay. It's okay. It's really slow."

Obi-Wan stopped pacing and stretched his hand through a hole at shoulder height, yet to be covered. Cody didn't even think before he grabbed the boy's (man's?) hand.

"It'll be okay," He repeated. "I'm fine."

The water was about knee high now, and the row of crystals at shoulder height were starting to close off. Cody pushed Obi-Wan's hand back just before the crystal could trap it there, and Obi-Wan let out a pained sound, pressing up against the wall. It hurt Cody. Hurt him more that being trapped, than the memories he had at this age, the memories that this water chamber was starting to dredge up.

Watching his brothers take their turns in the tank, none coming out conscious. "It's for your training," the longnecks had said. It felt like torture to Cody. Though, he supposed, maybe that was the point. It's hard for torture to frighten you if you have already experienced worse.

His turn now, he pulled on the breathing mask and stepped into the tank. It started filling up from the tubes in the sides, and the cold water shocked him a little. He watched the blinking, red light outside on the wall, until it counted up to three minutes. As soon as it hit three, he took a deep breath and shoved the mask off his face, and the clock started counting down again. Could he make it?

No. He woke up later in the medbay.

Like he always did.

So Cody suspected, at least.

"It's alright," he said as the water carried him up, up, toward the top of the chamber. It wasn't nearly far enough away.

"I'll be fine," he called as he felt his head press against the ceiling. Too soon.

"I'm okay," he lied, then took a deep breath, right before the water covered his mouth and nose.

The clock ticked down, 2.59, 2.58, 2.57...

He sank back down, keeping his eyes open and on the crying boy leaning on the wall. Cody smiled and pressed his hand against the crystal.

1.46, 1.45, 1.44, 1.43...

Obi-Wan frantically pushed his own hand against Cody's through the wall. His other fist pounded at the crystal, to no avail. Cody's lungs were starting to burn.

1.03, 1.02, 1.01...

Cody's vision got darker, but he kept his gaze on Obi-Wan. Through the water, he looked distorted, but his eyes were unmistakable. Blue, bright with tears, creased with grief. Cody thought that it had been a while since he had seen those eyes smile. He hoped they would again, maybe after the Wars. Long after Cody was gone. He hoped this wouldn't break Obi-Wan beyond repair. His gaze really did go black now, and the clock in his memory blinked just twice more.

0.01, 0.00.

He felt a satisfied smile pull on his lips. He made it.

~~~~~~~~

Obi-Wan saw Cody's eyes close, and he cried out. "Cody! Stay with me!"

He couldn't ask that of him. It was selfish and impossible. But Obi-Wan felt so small, so helpless. It was just like when Qui-Gon had died, and he could do nothing. Nothing.

"Not nothing," a voice chided. "You can change it, this time."

A different voice swirled around him. "He must learn."

The first voice pressed in. "This will only break him. You are strong, child. Use it."

The soft voice was right. If he lost Cody right now, he would shatter. There would be no Obi-Wan Kenobi to put together, not like there had been last time. He would never come back. Maybe that was what the Code aimed to prevent when it forbade attachments. He had never been good at staying away from those he loved.

But there was no way to get to Cody.

"The power. It is yours to use, young one. Focus it."

"What power?!" He yelled, sounding like a child, even to his own ears. He was a child, actually. No response. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and placed his hands on the crystal wall, tears slipping down his cheeks as he closed his eyes. And he focused. It was like meditating, but more. He felt it. Power. Flowing through his very being. That was what the voice meant. It felt like an ocean, pushing and pulling at him, flowing through him. He waited, waited....

And pushed.

The crystal around him shattered. Shattered like Obi-Wan, because he surged forward and Cody was in his arms and he was him again, filling out his armor, scar across his temple but he was still and cold. Obi-Wan lowered Cody to the ground, brushing the shards of crystal away with his mind, and cried again. "Cody, Cody please. Wake up." He gulped in a breath of air. "Commander, wake up! That's and order!" And he used the power and he pushed the water out of Cody's lungs, but he still didn't stir. He heart had all but stopped, and he wasn't breathing. Obi-Wan used the power again and gathered the Force around Cody's lungs, breathing for him, in--out--in--out--in--

That's when Obi-Wan noticed the crystal in his hand. He would have dismissed it, thrown it with the rest of the shards of crystal littering the floor around him, if not for the glow.

"It is for him. This was as much his trial as it was yours."

The sense of desperation flooded him again, and he fought back tears. What use would Cody have for the crystal if he was dead? But he pressed it to the commander's chest anyway.

"Cody, don't leave. Please wake up. You have to wake up."

And then it was like Cody had heard him, because he coughed and shivered. Obi-Wan released his grip on the Force, because he didn't need it anymore, because Cody was breathing on his own. He squeezed his eyes shut and the scar on his temple stretched. Obi-Wan sobbed in relief and pressed a kiss to Cody's forehead, because he was alive, and they had passed whatever test they had been given, and they were alive.

And that would do for now. That would be enough until they had to go find help, until they had to get the squad out, until they found someone who could help.

Because Obi-Wan was not going to lose anyone today.

#codywanweek2021 #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #there were many external factors that influenced this fic #its far from my best work #but kinda interesting at least

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bosspigeon · 3 years

Text

one for sorrow

Pairing: Gen, M!Detective/Mason Word Count: 3483 Summary: Juniper Fenn reflects on memories, nursery rhymes, loneliness, and wanting to be wanted.

Just a little (uh... kinda big, actually?) character study for my soft boy, Juni! It wound up a lot more emotional than I originally intended, but I like having this insight into his character.

CW for (implied) deadnaming, misgendering, coming out, and in the last portion a non-graphic post-sex scene with some allusions to said sex ahfdsjh.

One for sorrow, two for joy.

He thought the needle would hurt more than it did. He closes his eyes and looks away, and the artist gives him the hairy eyeball when he clutches at Tina’s knee, like she’s afraid he’ll jump off the bench and bolt for the door. He wants to ask if that’s happened before, but he thinks he’s made enough of a fool of himself so far.

“You sure you’re good?” she asks, giving him an out. Somehow, that just strengthens his resolve.

He takes a slow breath and nods, closing his eyes.

He hears the buzzing, and when the machine first touches skin, he almost jumps, but he’s more worried about looking like more of a baby than he already does than he is startled, so he bites his lips and forces himself to holds still. And it does hurt, but not like he thought it would. He squints one eye open to watch the progress of the first line over his skin. He expects to be repulsed, like when he’s having bloodwork done, and he has to look away from the needle going into his arm. But this is different, somehow. Doesn’t make his stomach turn.

“This is the quietest I’ve ever seen you,” Tina teases, when the first wing has taken shape. He almost jumps again, but he manages to contain it to a twitch. He’s going to tip the artist as much as he’s able after this is done, just for dealing with someone as fidgety as him.

He chews at his lip. “It’s… I dunno. I wouldn’t say it feels good, but it’s kind of soothing, in a weird way?”

She leans over, watching, and the artist gives her a bit of a look, so she backs up again. “Have you told your mum?” she asks.

He snorts out a laugh and looks away, back at the stencil on his arm that will soon be filled in with black feathers and ringed with flowers. “Of course not. She’d probably kill me.”

“She doesn’t like tattoos?” Tina tilts her head, watching his face like she’s waiting for him to start whining about how it hurts. She’s always been the tougher of the two of them, and he’s got no illusions about that, so he’s sort of proud of himself for keeping his cool—as much as he’s got anyway.

He shrugs the arm that’s not under the machine, and wonders when he’ll get his next tattoo. He’s already got ideas for more, and knowing that it’s not so bad as he was worried it would be is exciting. Not to mention, it’s something that’s just for him. Not for anyone else. He’s… never really done anything like this before. “I don’t know what she likes, but I doubt she’d approve.”

She sucks her teeth and he squeezes her knee again when she gives him that soft, sad look she sometimes does when his mum comes up in conversation. “What’s it going to be?” she asks suddenly. Tina’s a good friend, changing the subject before he can get moody about it.

“A magpie,” he says softly, looking back down to watch the lone bird slowly taking shape on his skin.

Three for a girl, four for a boy.

He asks what happened to all the pretty paintings around the house when he’s ten, because they disappear sometime after one of Mum’s visits, when she seemed more distant than usual. Maybe she hopes he won’t notice, but he misses them immediately. The house is too bare without them, it feels so lonely. It’s always been lonely, ever since Dad passed, but the bare walls make it even lonelier. Mum brushes it off, of course. He’s used to it at this point, so he doesn’t push her, but he’s also stubborn, so he goes looking. He’s even more determined when she tries to shut him up by replacing them all with clean, impersonal prints in neat little frames. He finds them in the attic, tucked away in a box, each one slipped carefully into a protective sleeve or folder and wrapped in tissue paper. He finds a dreamy matted watercolor of him as a baby, fat and freckly and smiling with no teeth, and he has to take a minute to sit down and cry as quietly as possible before he can start going through the rest. There’s a folder of scrawled pencil portraits, too. He finds one of Mum sitting on a pier, peeking back over her shoulder with her hair blowing in the wind. She’s smiling. He can’t remember the last time he saw her smile.

There’s a self portrait that makes him laugh through his tears, because the reflective surface Dad seems to have used as his mirror is a Christmas ornament, so his face is distorted, one eye huge, his tongue out, drawing himself drawing. He keeps that one for sure, and a few of the other ones he thinks he can get away with. An oil pastel of a wooden swing dripping with honeysuckle, a colored pencil drawing of the library, a few studies of people and plants and animals, and another watercolor of the three magpies, sitting in a juniper tree.

There are three magpies painted on his bedroom wall, from back when it was his nursery. Dad painted them right after he was born, before they brought him home from the hospital. They’d waited until he arrived to know what his gender would be. Of course, he went and messed that up, like he did most things. Sometimes he wonders if Dad would be disappointed, or if he’d think it was funny.

They used to be above his crib, and then his bed when he outgrew that, but he moves his bed to the opposite side of his room when he’s fourteen, and covers them with a poster. He thinks for sure Mum’s going to give him an earful about it, but he’s surprised she hasn’t tried to cover them up herself. He supposes it’s not really an issue, since when she is home, it’s not like she spends any time in his bedroom.

And then he's sixteen, and he’s been practicing his watercolor for years at this point. Sometimes, he creeps into the attic when he’s got the house to himself, rifles through Dad’s paintings, studies his style for as long as he can. He’s been old enough not to need a proper nanny for years now, though someone comes to check up on him frequently and make sure he’s got food and necessities, but beyond that he’s got plenty of time alone. He sits in the attic until he's sore from the wooden floor, trying to think of how Dad’s hands might have looked while he worked, the speed and angle of his brush strokes. He doesn’t think he can find anything new at this point, as many times as he’s snuck up here to look at Dad’s work, but out of the blue, he finds what might have been a really nice landscape, if it weren’t marred by fat little handprints in bright yellow and green, as if he’d smeared his hands across the palette the second Da took his eyes off it, and slapped them down in the middle of the paper. He comes back to it a lot, when he spends time in the attic, because when he looks at it, he swears he can hear what he imagines Dad’s laugh sounded like, his voice calling him a little menace with all the fondness in the world.

And then he’s eighteen, and he’s alone on his birthday. Mum calls, tells him she loves him and she would come and visit him later on, so they could do something together, but she couldn’t take the day off. She tells him how proud she is of her daughter being all grown up, and he winces, but keeps his mouth shut.

And then he maybe gets a little bit drunk, drags out his paints and brushes, rifles through the portfolio hidden carefully in the back of his closet, and finds the painting with the juniper tree and the three magpies

He takes another shot to steady his nerves, and paints in a fourth.

Five for silver, six for gold.

He shouldn’t be surprised Mum doesn't come to his graduation, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. She’s busy, she’s always been busy, she’s been busy since he was a toddler.

He was stupid to believe anything he did would be important enough for her to bother with. To believe that he could matter to anyone enough.

Tina’s stepmum had more foresight than he did, inviting him along to her and Tina’s celebration dinner at a fancy restaurant out of town, and he has to take a minute to cry in the bathroom after they proudly present him with a messily wrapped gift and a card that practically explodes with glitter when he open it, but he can’t even pretend to be annoyed because it has his name in it, and while he's trying very hard not to break down crying in public, Tina hugs him so tightly his spine creaks and tells him she couldn’t have wished for a better brother.

When they drop him off at home, his eyes are still red and a bit wet, he’s full of good food and affection, and he’s smiling like an idiot in spite of the fact that he can’t stop sniffling. The heavy sterling silver magpie skull charm rests against his collarbone, the weight comforting in a way he can’t hope to put into words. He'll never forget Tina’s dewy, smiling eyes as she clasped it around his neck and told him proudly, “Now you’ve got two.'"

He falls into bed holding the charm, reluctant to take it off, but knowing he should put it somewhere safe before bed. He exhales a happy sigh, laughing a bit wetly to himself.

And then his phone vibrates in the pocket of his slacks, and his heart seizes in his chest.

He doesn’t have to check the ID to know who it is. Nobody ever calls him, and his eyes flicker anxiously to the pressed dress in its plastic garment bag still hanging untouched on the back of his closet door. He’d given Tina the expensive name-brand heels for her own graduation outfit, because even if he did want them, he couldn’t walk in the damn things anyway. Lucky for him, they wear the same size shoe.

He takes a moment to calm his breathing, but that means he has to fumble to answer the call before it ends, and he winces when he sees two more missed calls in his log. “Mum!” he blurts, his voice instinctively pitching higher. “Hi! How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she tells him easily. “I’m sorry again I couldn’t make it today. There was a—”

“A big project, I know,” he finishes. It’s always a project, or a trip, or a meeting. The details are always scant, but Mum knows how to make it sound big and important and in need of her attention. He’s tried not to be bitter about it, but there’s always been a part of him that wishes, for once, she’d decide he was important enough to need her attention. “It’s okay, Mum.” It’s not, it never was, but it would be selfish of him to tell her that. She’s got enough to worry about.

“Well, I didn’t want you to think I’d forgotten, so I had a gift delivered. It should have arrived today.”

He bites back a sigh. He wonders if it would be easier if she had just forgotten. If it would hurt less than knowing she always made the decision not to see him. “Oh, I’ll go check!” he blurts, trying to inject as much enthusiasm into his voice as possible. He rolls out of bed and heads for the door, poking out to check the mailbox. Of course, inside there is a slim, rectangular package, wrapped in tidy brown paper. The address and names are printed on stickers.

He takes it inside with the phone tucked against his shoulder, weighing the box in his hands. It’s light, and he wants to be excited about whatever it is, but he’s suddenly drained from the day, from crying and laughing and crying some more.

The dining room, somehow, has always felt more lonely than anywhere else in the house, and he’s never been able to figure out why, but he puts the package on the table and starts picking at the neat wrapping. Mum is quiet on the other end of the phone, waiting, and Juni wants to break the odd silence, but can’t even begin to think of what to say. He wishes he didn’t bite his nails, because it takes him way too long to break into the pristine paper, and inside is a long red jewelry box. When he lifts the lid, there is a delicate gold necklace resting on a soft velvet pad, understated and objectively lovely, if not really his style, but it’s the note that flutters out of the box that catches his attention. His eyes skim the note, expecting her usual platitudes that he sometimes wonders if she has someone else type for her.

I am so proud of the woman you’ve become.

His breath leaves him in a painful, strangled rush, his lungs squeezing tight in his chest. And before Mum can speak, he blurts "I can't take this," trailed by a ragged sob.

“Of course you can,” she says gently, kindly. “I know how you get about expensive gifts, but really, it’s no trouble—”

His head fills with screaming static when she calls him what she’s always called him, what she doesn’t know better than to call him, because he’s never told her. He’s never had the chance, it’s never been the right time, it felt wrong not to do it in person, but whenever he sees her in person he feels like he shouldn’t waste the time with her by bringing up something so…

“My name is Juniper!” It explodes out of him, louder than he’s ever been with her, and it stuns her into silence. “I’m not your daughter!” he cries desperately, “I’m your son. You can’t be proud of the woman I’ve become, because I’m not a woman!” He sounds insane, he knows he does, shrill and frantic, but his heart is hammering so hard he feels dizzy, the walls are yawning wide around him, the dining room feels huge and so empty and so bleak. He’s never felt more alone in this dark, quiet house he’s spent his entire life rattling around in than he does in this exact moment, and it’s suffocating. His phone drops from shaking fingers onto the floor, and he drops with it, curling into a ball and struggling to remember how to breathe, dizzily hoping he won’t need to go scrambling for his inhaler. His fingers clench so tightly around the heavy silver charm he’s almost worried he’s going to snap the simple leather cord, but he needs to ground himself or he feels like he’ll dissolve entirely.

He hears Mum calling the name that’s not his, and when he finally manages to fumble his phone with nerveless fingers, he winces seeing the screen is cracked. “I’m sorry,” he sobs weakly, his eyes burning with tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He can’t even be sure what he’s apologizing for, but he knows he has to, especially when he slams the end call button and buries his face in his knees so he can cry alone in the dark.

Seven for a secret, never to be told.

Juni’s skin is starting to get clammy, but he’s too comfortable to move. Eventually, he’s going to have to, if for nothing else than to get up and get cleaned up, but for now, he’s happy, if a little chilly. He nuzzles into the soft curls dusted across Mason’s chest, and lets his eyelids fall to half-mast, just open enough to absently count the freckles hidden under the chest hair, inevitably lose count, and start counting again. Mason smells good, cooling sweat and sandalwood, and dozy as he is, it takes a moment for Juni to realize he doesn’t really smell like smoke at all anymore. His room doesn’t smell lke smoke, either, he realizes. His heart thuds hard behind his ribs.

He gets distracted when a shiver rolls over him, the chill suddenly overwhelming against his sticky skin, and he curls further into Mason’s chest in an attempt to leach some of his warmth.

Mason clicks his tongue, and Juni’s whole body stiffens, worry zinging into his gut to rattle around there like a bird in a too-small cage. Mason shifts underneath him, and he starts to roll away, to apologize, to get out of his hair, before a strong hand clasps the back of his neck.

“Hold still,” Mason grunts, sitting up and patting around for the edge of the blanket. He pulls it out from under them both, which almost sends the detective rolling off the bed against his will this time, but Mason's hand shifts down to spread across his lower back and hold him steady until he can get them both tucked underneath.

He flops back against the pillows again, one arm tucked under his head and the other loose at his side, and slowly, cautiously, Juni crawls his way under it. The hand lands on his hip and squeezes, and Juni settles his head back on the vampire’s chest just in time to hear the pleased little rumble there. He flushes down to his chest and bites his lip, distracting himself by petting at Mason’s chest hair.

And then he pokes his flat, brown nipple and says, “Boop!” on some stupid impulse, and giggles like an idiot.

Mason scoffs and rolls his eyes, but shifts so that Juni’s thigh hitches up over his. “Keep that up, sweetheart, and we’ll be going into round two sooner rather than later.” Juni can feel the truth in that statement against his thigh, and he blushes so hotly he knows Mason can feel it at every point their bodies are touching. He might be approaching supernova levels of heat when Mason smugly adds, “Well, round two for me. Three for you.”

He hides his face in Mason’s chest with a long groan. “I’m going to explode,” he declares. “I’m going to collapse like a dying star.”

Mason laughs, sharp and startled and shockingly bright, and Juni’s head shoots up so he can see his face. His hair is a mess, but of course it still looks amazing, hanging around his face in loose, sweat-damp spirals. His vulpine grey eyes are crinkling at the corners, even his sharp nose wrinkling in a way that makes Juni’s heart almost stop. And his mouth, usually either pinned into a scowl, or twisted into a sly (and stupidly attractive) smirk, is curled into a smile, breathtaking in its open softness.

God, I love you, Juni wants to cry, his heart pounding in counterpoint to the desperate, silent declaration he traps behind his teeth by digging them into his lower lip so hard he’s almost afraid he’s going to make himself bleed. And it doesn’t stop. I love you, I love you, I love you drums in his chest, hums through his blood, and when Mason catches him looking, he reaches out to push the tangled forelock of curls hanging in Juni’s eyes out of his face, cupping his cheek to pull him into a kiss. Juni shivers and braces his hand on Mason’s chest, feeling the vampire’s heart thumping there, steady and stable and achingly familiar. His own matches it beat for beat, and thankfully his mouth is too occupied for the pulsing plea of love me, love me, please love me to spill out. So he dives into it, clings to it, and when Mason breaks away to let him breathe, Juni buries his mouth against the arch of his throat instead, presses messy kisses to his collarbones, his chest, his shoulders, throttles the words before they can escape him and pushes them into touches instead. Touches can’t damn him the way words can.

There’s a soft, shameful part of him he ignores like he always has that whispers to him that maybe, just maybe, if he pours enough of himself into every kiss, every touch, that the words will finally be understood. That the weak little part of him he buries deeper and deeper every time it cries out will finally be seen, and answered, and cradled tenderly in someone’s strong, freckled hands.

But until then, it will sit there in his chest under lock and key and ache, like all his secrets do.

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daaziscoolbesties · 3 years

Text

[REPOST] MY 2K WORD COMMENTARY/ANALYSIS OF RANBOO’S LORE STREAM

‼️‼️This post contains lore spoilers from Ranboo’s 4/23 stream, “The Enderwalk Saga. Chapter 1: The Lessons”. If you haven’t seen that stream don’t read ahead unless you want spoilers‼️‼️

disclaimer: this isnt really an analysis as much as a bunch of commentary and half-baked theories.

-on the way to the mansion he was sort of talking to himself saying stuff like "i'm good i'm good" which m a y be a normal thing but also maybe it's not and it flew over our heads cause he talks to chats and donos like that so often

-again, this one may just be a normal thing but when he was climbing up the stairs in the mansion looking for foolish, he repeats some of his words like down to the exact same tone of voice and everything. 12:42, "this mansion is way too big actually. this mansion is way too big actually." (why the repeated actually? seems odd to me but again it might just be a normal thing that i haven't picked up on). (right after) "okay okay lemme find him lemme find him" again repeated words in the e x a c t same tone.

-does everyone know about ranboo's silk touch hands ability thing? or was that just a techno and ranboo main character moment. bc if it was, how would foolish know that ranboo could pick up the full cake after it'd been partially eaten. unless everyone on the sever knows about that in which case this means nothing. but if they d o n t know... how would foolish know? ranboo wrote about it in the do not read book so maybe if it's not a publicly known thing maybe foolish got his hands on the book and read it??

-14:53-ish, they're talking about the war room and how it was for tubbo or whatever and ranboo says, and i quote "he prepares for lore but he's never gonna do it." now funny thing is at first i couldn't tell if he said "war" like in reference to the war room or "lore". but after playing the clip over and over i can say with ALMOST 100% certainty that he said lore. there is a definite L sound at the beginning of the word. which either means a) this was a slip up (doubtful bc he said later that there were no mistakes), b) he broke the fourth wall because they were supposed to be rping at that point, or c) i'm completely wrong and he said "war" which leads down an entire other road of possibilities

-15:17 "are you a book reader?" "*checks inventory for do not read book* uh yeah i'd say i'm a book reader-" dunno how i didn't catch this the first time I HATE THAT DAMN BOOK

-15:18 there's blue in his hotbar. where did he get the blue.

-16:40 "it's like a metaphor- i have two minds: i have my normal self, my normal little shift-dancing self, and then the builder one. the builder one is demanding. it's a very demanding mind." ranboo then lets out a weird sigh after this. i feel like what foolish was talking about was an indirect(?) parallel to ranboo in and out of enderwalk, there's how he normally is, trying to do best for others, and then there's enderwalk, meeting up with bad guys and "demanding" things (its very late as i write this i really don't know what i'm talking about)

-17:11 "you have your panic closet" i'm sorry his what now 😀 no but seriously how the hell did i miss some of these

-18:04 "you're asking me if i remember?" very funny ranboo thank you for making jokes in these trying times

-18:25 WHY DID HE GET OUT THE AXE WHEN STARING AT THE BEE

-19:38 why did foolish hold the grass block- most of these observations probably mean nothing but- h u h - is that- i'm too tired for this

-19:54 "i never properly thanked you for the deal you made with me" so foolish got something out of this deal, we're not sure if ranboo did. "the green cardboard box" again do you mean dream's house- but seriously the only people i can think of on the server that are associated with green are dream and sam. and i have no idea what cardboard box could be referring to. foolish got a lime colored shulker from drista

-20:30 "we're supposed to only talk about it at a certain location" hmm now where would that be? panic room maybe? cause like usually after doing a big thing in the enderwalk state ranboo wakes up in the panic room so maybe? the deal was that they only talk about it in his house

-21:52 how does ranboo receive(?) the lessons? like are they whispered to him in his mind or is he seeing them as words in front of him like we see? hmm

-"Lesson 14: If you have the opportunity to gain a favor, take it." "gain a favor" don't you usually ask people for favors though? how does one "gain a favor"? anyways i'm pretty sure lesson 14 has to do with the deal foolish was talking about. (the deal explained because i now have info: at some point a bit ago foolish met up with ranboo and asked to make a deal, he'd gotten a shulker box from drista. the deal was that ranboo would have ownership of the box, it would be under his name but foolish rents/borrows it indefinitely. ranboo negotiated that if he took ownership of the box he would get a "war favor" from foolish where if something happens that creates sides, ranboo can ask him a favor that could change his side. but why would foolish want ranboo to have ownership of the shulker you may ask? well i have an answer for you. a theory actually but still. basically since drista technically isn't supposed to give out shit on the server if someone where to have that stuff then they may get in trouble. foolish wants to be able to use the shulker but if it gets found he doesn't want to get in trouble, so he can blame it on ranboo seeing as it's under his name.)

-22:16-ish "i still have this from when you *can't understand whats said here*" well i guess that sort of explains why he had the grass block? idk man (info update: he had the grass block from when ranboo threw it at him telling him to calm down like what ghostbur does with blue)

-31:35 "i figured out how to cause it" how to cause the enderwalk state

-38:30 "ninety three lessons" I STILL DONT KNOW WHY HE KEPT SAYING NINETY THREE AND NOT NINETY FOUR AND ITS DRIVING ME CRAZY LMAO

-39:01 "it's all for the greater good" okay well when are you gonna start thinking about yourself and not everyone else for once huh. self care bitch.

-40:31 he started holding the axe when he was looking at sam- gonna say it i really don't like that axe ahahah- WAIT A DAMN MINUTE THE AXE IS NAMED "axe of ender" I DONT LIKE THAT I DONT LIKE THAT AT ALL

-41:53 is there something?? physically keeping him from telling sam??? or maybe it's sort of like his enderwalk state taking control to make him shut the fuck up??? so many questions and approximately zero answers

-43:18 ranboo raising his voice legitimately scares me 😀👍

-"Lesson 27: Do not reminisce on what you have lost for it will weigh you down." showed up when he was thinking about and REMINISCING about the community house 👀👀

-"Lesson 53: Never fully trust anyone." showed up literally after he said that he thinks he can trust the other people on the server enough to tell them about what he did

-"Lesson 67: Leave no evidence of what you have helped with." this is different from the others because there doesn't seem to be at least a semi-direct connection to it? unless maybe at the time ranboo was near something he may have "helped with"? not sure about this one

-"Lesson 94: DO NOT LET THEM KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE" yeah yeah i get it i get it he's fucked up some shit in enderwalk i don't feel like analyzing this thanks

-OH OH NOTICE HOW HE SAYS "REMEMBERING" WHEN THE LESSONS SHOW UP. IMPLYING THAT THIS ISNT A NEW THING, ITS HAPPENED BEFORE AND NOW HES REMEMBERING IT. MAYBE HE WROTE DOWN THE LESSONS WHEN HE WAS IN ENDERWALK AND NOW THAT HES BEEN EXPERIMENTING ITS BEEN EASIER FOR HIM TO REMEMBER THOSE ENDERWALK MEMORIES

-okokok the experiments are that he's been e x p e r i m e n t i n g on how to purposefully induce the enderwalk state. and we know now that it wasn't from the pain of the water because on the stream afterwords he said that it's caused by the intense fear of something happening. and so the "side effects" of the experiments is that since he's in enderwalk more often(?) he starts remembering more things from it

-OH MY GOD WAIT "there is a reason sam, there's so many reasons, theres ninety three of them" (44:47) WHAT IF EVERY LESSON IS TIED TO A QUOTE UNQUOTE "reason" THAT RANBOO THINKS HES A BAD PERSON/NEEDS TO BE LOCKED UP BUT HE SAYS NINETY THREE INSTEAD OF NINETY FOUR BECAUSE THE NINETY FOURTH LESSON DOESNT HAVE A REASON YET/HE DOESNT REMEMBER IT HAVING A REASON

-dude honestly the whole sam part hurts so much this man is scarily good at acting

-46:46 "i cant put you in the prison you wouldn't be able to see michael anymore" bestie that's the point he doesn't want to accidentally hurt michael or tubbo in the enderwalk state—

-okay but there's no way that sam couldn't tell that ranboo was at least TRYING to confess to something- i feel like he definitely knows more than he's letting on because usually like when people do bad shit or admit to doing bad shit he's like in Prison Guard Mode™️ (he literally cut off ponk's arm because he stole some keycards or something) and whatever and idk what he knows but he definitely knows something and is trying to protect ranboo. or he's trying to manipulate him or smth either one works—

-50:38 "you are a good person" "i am?" you can hear my heart shatter. "yes you are" "i don't think so sam" "i do, even if you don't" "i really don't think so" and there it goes again

-51:25 hello badboyhalo i see you to the left of ranboo

-52:44 "but then my curiosity got the best of me" curiosity killed the cat, bitch

-52:54 "there's ninety three, ninety four, ninety- theres so many reasons!" SEE!! NOT ONLY ARE THERE THAT MANY LESSONS THERE ARE REASONS THAT CORRESPOND IM S O SMART—

-52:56 "i don't want to remember anymore!" *quietly brings forth my theory that when ranboo loses a canon life his memory gets wiped*

-53:13 "ive opened pandora's box" isn't the prison?? literally called pandora's VAULT??? so this m a y be a stretch but i'm thinking that maybe this could be taken in the literal sense that he "opened" the prison and let dream out (the sirens at the end of quackity's stream confirm that dream is indeed out)

-53:42 mans just straight up walked through a ghost i—

-55:37 so are we just gonna ignore the eleventh page of the book? "he's alive, but hopefully soon dream won't be"??? alright nevermind it's most likely bc when tommy came back he recruited ranboo in his plan to kill dream

-55:47 notice how he writes "what am i?" as opposed to "who am i?" no elaboration here idk what it could be

-56:08 just so it's clear for anyone who doesn't know- he's wearing armor at this point, and i'm like 90% sure that when he wears his armor water can't hurt him. and i saw someone say somewhere that like with splash potions when thrown it turns into a gas-like thing? so again, it didn't hurt him, he didn't get hurt. he said in the chill stream that he wasn't comfortable making it where his character had to hurt himself to do that. the thing that causes the enderwalk isn't pain, it's intense and sudden emotions like fear and stress. thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

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clonecest-bin-account · 4 years

Text

Relaxation

Ship: Waxer/Cody/Boil

Rating: E

AO3 link

This is already the fourth shiny Cody chews up today, and it’s been only a few hours. The poor fellow didn’t even do anything wrong per se, he just saluted a bit later that he should’ve; nothing that should warrant such anger for sure.

Waxer and Boil share a glance. The Commander is clearly stressed; someone has to do something!

It happens only a few times, because usually Cody manages to remain calm and cordial even during the most stressful moments, but sometimes even he can’t help but to feel a little more testy than usual.

If they do something about it, it wouldn’t be the first time they have to take matters into their own hands. It may be because of their trouble-making tendencies - which are debatable at best they only happen to get to the wrong place at the wrong time quite often - but they actually find this kind of activity quite fun, thought they still feel sorry for the poor shiny who got the short end of the stick this time. Still, better him than them.

It’s not hard to convince Cody to give in, it never is. One could even say that he likes it and actually looks forward to it - though nobody is brave enough to point it out loud to him.

All Waxer and Boil have to do is to get to the Commander’s quarters. They have at least the decency to wait until night - or what would be night, since they’re in space - to go bother him, knowing that if they did so earlier he would’ve used the excuse of still having work to do in order to bail out.

“Sir, it’s Waxer and Boil, may we come in?”

They hear the sound of steps and clicking on the control panel, and the doors open, revealing a quite disheveled looking Commander Cody. Waxer makes a face.

“Ah, sir? Were you still working?”

“Someone has to,” Cody replies, though his words lack their usual bite. He must be more tired than he’s letting on, which is a lot given how bad he looks.

Boil, who has always been the boldest of the duo, steps closer without asking for permission, raising a hand towards Cody, resting it gently on his cheek. Cody isn’t usually a big fan of this kind of close contact, but this time he leans into the touch, and his body visibly relaxes. It really has been too long since they last did this.

“Sir, we felt like you…” Boil clears his throat, his bravado from before suddenly vanished, “… Needed us, um, sir.”

A sigh leaves Cody’s lips, but it’s a relived sigh, not one born out of frustration - at least for once.

“You could say that,” he replies, and that’s all the invitation Waxer and Boil need.

Boil’s hand moves from Cody’s cheek to his chest, pushing him further inside. Cody’s so startled by his initiative that he lets himself be pushed without opposing any resistance.

Waxer chuckles, closing the door behind them. Now the fun can begin.

They get Cody on his bed. It’s not that bigger than a regular trooper’s bunk, but it’s still better.

Their clothes have been long forgotten on the ground - they won’t be needing them for a while. Boil’s half-sprawled on Cody’s left, while Waxer, on his right, is trying to at least keep a bit of composure, even though it’s hard.

He nibbles at his ear, smirking at the way he sends a shiver to his spine.

“You like that, Commander?” he asks, moving the fist closed around Cody’s cock slightly faster.

“Yeah,” he moans, followed by a barrage of more moans when Boil begins to move the fingers inside him, fucking him at the same speed with which Waxer is jacking him off.

“Boil! Slow down a bit!” Waxer reprimands him, but Boil just chuckles.

“He likes it, why should I stop?”

It’s rude to talk like this, like Cody isn’t present, but he doesn’t seem to mind it, so Waxer doesn’t point it out.

He has to admit that he gets lost admiring Cody, his toned legs spread apart for them, his marked chest and the way it moves as Cody frantically breaths in and out, his face contorted by pleasure.

If he could he’d kiss him all over… Wait, he can. He begins moving his lips to Cody’s temple, first things first kissing his scar, then he travels down to every spot he finds, and he sucks some marks lower, knowing that they’ll be covered by the armor the next day, and nobody will be the wiser, well, except them of course.

On the other side, Boil decides to follow his example, only more aggressively, actually biting him. Cody hisses but he doesn’t stop them; he needs this, actually.

He’s truly beautiful like this, a constellation of different kinds of marks. Waxer could spend the entire night just looking at him, if he didn’t have other plans that is.

It’s with purposeful mischievousness that he begins to travel downwards with his mouth, teasing Cody’s nipple before moving on his stomach, beginning to lavish it with kisses.

His dear Commander must’ve understood what he’s going for, because the hand on Waxer’s shoulder tightens its grip, making him chuckle. He clearly wants it so bad.

Cody shudders when Waxer closes his lips around his cock. He begins with a simple kiss, but soon he becomes hungrier and that becomes not enough anymore.

Inch by inch, he takes more and more in his mouth, relaxing his throat so that he can’t gag, and he still gets close to it because Cody snaps his hips up and it takes both Waxer and Boil’s combined efforts to keep him still.

“Do you want to come, sir?” Boil whispers to Cody’s ear.

“Yeah…” he weakly mutters, nodding frantically with his head.

“The stay still and let us do the work.”

This isn’t something you’d see often, Cody taking orders from someone who doesn’t outrank him, but this is different from the battlefield: there are no ranks here despite how they still call him “sir”, but just Boil, Waxer and Cody.

To Cody’s credit, he does still his movements - except from some twitches when Boil brushes against a sensitive spot, but they make an exception for those.

It’s endearing watching him try to contain himself, because he knows that if truly moves they will leave him hanging; they already did it once and he had to beg them to resume what they were doing. Needless to say, it’s not something he wants to repeat.

Waxer is taking his sweet time blowing Cody, while Boil’s fingering him with a quick rhythm, not bothering with following the other. It’s a weird sensation but it’s still highly effective, because the more they go on, the closer he feels to the peak.

It becomes very hard for him not to move, because he needs more he needs to come, and it’s something that the other two notice.

He finds himself not wanting to, but Waxer has no choice but to interrupt his exploration of Cody’s cock in favor of being able to speak; he hears Cody whine at the loss of his warm mouth and he shoots him a quick apologetic gaze, right before eyeing Boil with an amusement that is mirrored into the other’s gaze.

“Think we should make him come?” he asks.

“Mmh dunno…” Boil mutters, going from pumping his fingers with force to lazily getting them in and out of Cody, much to his frustration. He’s shivering from all the pent-up pleasure building up, only to find no outlet for it. “This was supposed to be relaxing for the Commander.”

At that, Waxer raises himself to Cody’s level. Teasing him is always a risk, but that’s what makes it so fun in the first place.

“Are you relaxed, sir?”

“I’d be more relaxed if you’d just let me come!” Cody exclaims, clearly irritated by that interruption.

Waxer and Boil share a look, and that’s all they need to understand each other.

“Aye aye sir.”

Waxer takes possession of Cody’s lips with a hungry kiss, taking his cock in his fist as both he and Boil redouble their efforts on making Cody feel good.

With all the build-up from before it doesn’t take long before Cody’s shaking between them, finally finding his release.

They don’t let go, helping him ride through his orgasm to the fullest. Only when he begins to twitch for the overstimulation they begin slowing down, until they stop completely.

It’s with an exhalation that Cody’s body goes boneless between them. They really have done a number on him, something both Waxer and Boil are proud of.

Their Commander should find more time for himself so that he can relax, but given how things are they’re happy to step in to help, especially when these are the results.

Waxer gives him one last kiss before letting him catch his breath, watching him quietly while Boil pets his hair - this is always the moment when he lets his soft side come out, though he’ll fiercely deny it if you ever say something about it.

There’s one thing, however, and that thing is that now they’re both hard and they would very much like if they could do something about it.

“Sir…” Boil begins, pressing closer to the recovering Commander, making him feel his erection against his thigh, “Would you mind…”

Cody, who seems to have recovered a bit now, shakes his head.

“Give me a second and I’m yours.”

True to his word, after a moment, Cody’s back with them one hundred percent.

He begins with Boil, kissing his lips and closing one hand around his cock. At first he just teases the head, smearing precum over it with his thumb, then once Boil makes a show of shoving his hips upwards, he begins to actually jack him off.

It’s a nice view, Waxer’s not going to lie, but he too needs something.

“Sir…” he mutters, getting closer as well, and he’s relieved when Cody, without even pulling away from Boil, reaches out for him, taking him in his other hand.

For a while the three of them remain like this, with Cody going from Boil to Waxer, kissing them while he continues masturbating them.

He knows however that, although the two would be pretty satisfied with this, they wouldn’t certainly mind more - and besides, they deserve it - so at some point he stops kissing Waxer, biting his lip and looking at him with a suggestive case, only to get on all fours, face already between Boil’s legs, who can’t hold a moan when he realizes what he’s doing.

His lips stretch around his cock, making for a beautiful view. His gaze doesn’t waver not even for a moment, eyeing Boil with a challenging gaze, as if to dare him to move. Well, if he insists…

Boil grabs Cody’s hair none too gently, and begins thrusting into his mouth, throwing his head back at the sudden surge of pleasure through his body.

He thrusts and thrusts and thrusts inside that warm and wet cave, still careful enough not to go too hard on Cody, lest making him gag which is the last thing he wants to do now.

He makes the mistake of looking down and he almost comes on the spot, though he manages to hold back. Unfortunately however Cody has noticed what happened, and he’s looking at him with a smug expression on his face; he can literally feel him smirk around his cock. Not wanting to be made fun of, Boil’s grasp on his hair tightens, enough to make him moan - from pleasure or pain? Who knows, probably both - and begins to attack his mouth with more heat.

Meanwhile Waxer is taking his time observing the ass that Cody has so gently offered to him. He lets his hands roam free on his legs, caressing his thighs and moving them just slightly more apart so that he can comfortably settle between them.

He then goes up to his asscheeks, massaging them, eliciting a sigh - or at least he thinks it’s a sigh - from Cody, who however doesn’t pull away from Boil.

He runs a thumb over his entrance, circling it slowly, just barely pressing inside. Boil has done an excellent job with him: he’s so loose already.

Waxer leans down, kissing his pucker, teasing it with his tongue, and he doesn’t miss the way it twitches, in clear need of more. Far from Waxer to deny Cody anything.

He goes back up, taking hold of his ass with his hands, keeping him still as he slides his cock between them.

“Waxer…”

There’s a huge warning in Cody’s voice, a warning that Waxer believes he understands.

“Want more already, sir?” he teases, despite his self-preservation instinct screaming at him to just shut up and give it to him - besides, he can’t wait to get inside him.

“Just get on with it,” is all Cody says before returning his attention to Boil’s cock.

“C’mon Waxer, do you want to disappoint the Commander?” Boil asks, with a smirk on his face. Waxer chuckles.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He takes just a moment to slick his cock with the same lube Boil has used for his fingers before, then he pushes inside, admiring how his head first, then the rest of his cock disappears inside him.

“So tight…” he can’t help but to mutter, trying to catch his breath. Although it’s tempting, he doesn’t want to come immediately.

He distracts himself by reaching for Cody’s cock, which he takes in his hand, making him jolt as he begins to move his fist up and down. Immediately Cody goes back to moaning - or would be if he wasn’t busy sucking Boil off - and Waxer chuckles at his reaction, leaning down to kiss his shoulder as a way to apologize.

It’s then that he begins to slowly rock his hips, not too much, but enough to get some friction.

“You feel so good sir,” he moans, leaving another kiss on Cody’s other shoulder.

“Would you shut up already? You’re ruining the mood,” Boil grumbles, as usual, but Waxer takes it in stride, and he challenges him.

“You want me to shut up? Make me.”

Boil grumbles some more, but eventually he does grab Waxer by the back of his neck and drags him into a heated kiss. Much better now.

Eventually Waxer picks up the pace, going so strong that Cody doesn’t need to move anymore to suck Boil’s cock; he just needs Waxer to push him.

He’s grown hard again, and he feels rather close too, though judging by the desperation behind Waxer’s thrusts and the loudness of Boil’s grunts, they aren’t that far off as well. All he needs to do is hold on.

There’s very little he can do however when Waxer begins to touch him more fervently, instead of those lazy strokes he was giving his cock before. Of course, they notice.

“I think he’s about to come,” Boil comments, caressing Cody’s hair.

“Already Commander?” Waxer asks, knowing well that he can’t reply. He’s being a tease but at least he’s not slowing down his movements, which Cody appreciates. He then leans down again, this time completely pressing his chest against his back, murmuring in his ear, “Come for us.”

At those words, Cody can only crumble. He doesn’t hold back as he comes for the second time that night, making a mess on himself and the sheets.

With the way he begins to frantically clench around him, Waxer follows suit, finishing with a deep last push inside him, unable to hold back his voice.

For Boil it takes slightly longer, but even then it’s not really that much. Another couple of thrusts inside Cody’s mouth, and he finds himself close as well.

“Gonna shoot…” he warns, pulling away from Cody just in time for coming on his face. He knows for a fact that Cody doesn’t like the taste of spunk in his mouth, so he went for the second best option. Seeing how good he looks like this, he can hardly regret it. “It suits you.”

Cody sends a glare his way, and not just a simple glare, but the I-am-Marshall-Commander-of-this-army-and-I-will-make-your-life-hell kind of glare. Boil clears his throat.

“I’ll go find something to clean.”

He gets a rag, helping Cody clean himself up while Waxer changes the sheets.

After they’re done, they get to bed again, lying on it. It’s a tight fit but it’s nothing they’re not used to - they’ve had cuddle piles with more people in even tighter spaces this is nothing.

“You good sir?” Waxer asks, getting comfortable with Cody between him and Boil.

Cody nods. “I am… Thank you, both of you.”

Waxer smiles, embracing Cody’s waist with one arm.

“Our pleasure sir… Literally,” Boil adds, making them all chuckle.

“Yeah,” Cody mutters, closing his eyes, already half-asleep. He’s sure nobody will complain if he takes a nap - actually, that was probably the main objective of this whole thing. “I’m sure it was.”

#cloneshipping #boxer #codywax #codyboil #commander cody #clone trooper waxer #clone trooper boil #my fics #spicy tag #boxercody

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hollowisthyname · 3 years

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Hello, Icarus! Please infodump to me about Danganronpa?

okay so! I had written out a whole thing but then tumblr deleted it! so that was fun! /s but now that I know what I'm going to write it's much easier, so that's good 😌

n e ways, I'm gonna do like a basic timeline w explanations and some other stuff that hopefully I'll remember once I start writing!! so let's go :D

a list of everything danganronpa in chronological order (not the order that you should play/watch the stuff in, I'll put that in the explanations)

Danganronpa 3: The End of Hope's Peak High School - Despair Arc (DR3) - second anime, watch along with the Future and Hope arcs after playing the first two games (and UDG if you want to). backstory for the cast of the second game.

Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc (THH) - first main game, play first. also has an anime that's basically the same as the game, but since there's not enough time to put everything from the game into the anime I definitely recommend playing the game. high school students from a prestigious school trapped in said school are forced to play a killing game, hijinks ensue.

Danganronpa Another Episode: Ultra Despair Girls (UDG) - third game, not main. play after playing the first two games. very different game mechanics from the main three, and widely considered not cannon by the fandom. I like it though, and it introduces a lot of really interesting characters along with giving a v underdeveloped character from the first game a lot more character development. it's not necessary to play it (though one of the characters plays a pretty big part in the third anime, so that would make more sense if you already knew her), but I think it's interesting and fun. there are also robot fights.

Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair (DR2 or SDR2) - second main game, play after playing the first game. same basic premise as the first game, except it's a different class (same school though) and this time they're on an island. even more hijinks and plot twists than the first game.

Super Danganronpa 2.5: Komaeda Nagito to Sekai no Hakaimono - (I could only find the Japanese title for this one, sorry 😔) kinda also part of the second anime? watch after playing the first two games (and UDG if you want) and watching DR3. character is woken up from a coma via overdramatic and overpowered other character.

Danganronpa 3: The End of Hope's Peak High School - Future and Hope Arcs (DR3) - second anime, watch along with the Despair arc after playing the first two games (and UDG if you want to). aftermath of the first two games.

Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony (DRV3) - third main game, fourth game in total. I don't actually know when it happens bc they're v secretive about everything, so I'm just putting it last. play last. same premise as the first two, the class is trapped in a school with a courtyard and a huge sort of dome around everything. peak hijinks, too many plot twists to count.

woo!! that's the timeline as I know it, hopefully I didn't miss anything. and I have managed to remember what else I was going to say, so let's move on to section two:

the mechanics of the games

danganronpa is, at its core, a glorified visual novel. every character has a certain amount of sprites for when they talk, as well as voice lines that aren't usually the exact text on the screen but fit the vibe of whatever they're saying. and as I've said before, there's quite a lot of talking. these games have more plot than should really be possible and most or all of it is done through dialogue. cutscenes and class trials are the only parts that are reliably fully voice acted, but there are a lot of those.

as for the parts that are less visual novel-y: you can walk around, and the settings are pretty much as 3d as the 2d-ish style of the game allows. you can also click on things, and sometimes clicking on stuff will get you monocoins, the currency of the game, which means you'll be able to buy presents for the characters!!

"now why do I need presents for the characters?" you ask. well, that's because you're given a certain amount of free time each game to hang out with characters you want to get to know better! the game's ending is fixed, so you won't change the course of the game by who you do or don't hang out with, but you can learn more about characters and become closer to them! giving them presents they like makes them like you more :D

and the most exciting part of danganronpa, what a lot of people play the games for, the true lure of the game.... the class trials!!

so these characters are in a killing game, right? basically, they're faced with a sort of lose-lose predicament: stay trapped in the school forever, or kill one of your classmates to "graduate". but it's not as simple as that, because in order to graduate, you can't be caught. and how do you determine whether or not a criminal has been found out? well, a trial of course!

enter the class trials. every student (barring dead or severely wounded ones) is required to participate in a kind of mock trial- except someone's really dead, and they need to find the murderer or they'll all die too.

(right, did I forget to mention that? only one person can graduate. getting out alive insures that none of your classmates get the luxury of doing the same.)

so, yeah. the class trials are a true fight for life on both sides, because who ever loses will be executed.

and they're really, really fun.

entirely voice acted! enough minigames that the list of them is probably longer than this entire post! the joy of solving the mystery! the... execution, right in front of everyone.

hey, it's a dark game. not like they're trying to hide that. and the executions aren't actually all that gory most of the time, but they're still very much there and onscreen. also as close to fully animated as the games ever get, which is pretty cool.

so how the class trials work is this:

there's a murder. dun dun duuuun. you investigate everywhere related to the murder to get "truth bullets", which are the reason you don't immediately fail at the trials. you don't have to remember all of them, they're all written down in your e-handbook. plus, the protagonists all seem to have really good memories.

time for the actual class trial!! Monokuma (asshole bear running the killing game) introduces everything, explains the rules. and everyone starts talking.

there are a lot of different parts to the class trial, but most of it is "nonstop debates". everyone talks one after the other, and you have to find inconsistencies and shoot the right "weak spot" with the right truth bullet. you refute the lie or mistake and everyone goes back to arguing normally.

there's also hangman's gambit (weird hangman to find a key word), multiple choice things (self-explanatory), and plenty of others.

near the end of the trial (or sometimes only a little over halfway in, it varies), the killer will.... kind of become obvious. there's a specific kind of change in behavior that's the mark of the murderer in these games, but I'm not sure how to describe it exactly. a lot of times there's an accent change, and in general they start acting much more erratic. since it's a trial, though, even after this presents itself you still have to prove your case beyond reasonable doubt.

and once it's become clear to the killer that they're backed into a corner, you have to do the "bullet time battle". it goes by different names in different games, but the basic mechanics are the same: you battle against a student (usually the killer, but not always) in a rhythm-based battle where you have to click to the rhythm to refute your opponent's statements. once you've dealt enough damage, you shoot the final piece of evidence, and that's the end of it.

the murderers react differently different times. sometimes they break down and confess. sometimes they keep denying it. sometimes, they're just calm. however they act, though, the end is the same. they are caught and punished accordingly.

but before that, there's one more thing to do. the closing argument.

your final task is to explain how the murder was committed, from idea to execution (look, a pun! see I can be funny too 😌). and you have to do it... as a manga.

you don't have to draw the whole thing yourself ofc- you just have to fill in the missing panels and then watch as the protagonist narrates it to the rest of the class.

and that's all for the class trial, not counting the long talks after every execution while still in the courtroom.

wow, this is getting...... really, really long. there's only one more thing I'm gonna add, and I promise it will be much shorter than the other two bc it is late and I am officially Incredibly Fucking Tired.

with no further ado, a very short part three:

my general impression of the game. its vibes or smth, I dunno this is just what i think about it

when I first heard of danganronpa, I thought it was a horror game. I can now assure you that it is not. thriller? maybe. debatable. but definitely not horror.

and despite its extremely dark premise, this game is not all doom and gloom. there's so much stuff about hope, and overcoming despair even when it seems impossible... it's not exactly a happy game, but there's a lot more of that in there than you'd probably expect.

all in all, I love this game. so much. it means a lot to me, and I think it's a really good game. thanks for letting me talk about it so much asdhfd :D

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homogrimoire-archive · 3 years

Text

Kingfield's Fourth Anniversary - Day 3

Your Hand in Mine

The Entity had grown tired of her usual show. Trials were efficient, but now a tad dull. So, she looked for inspiration, and found it in the games and stories humanity had created. Their purpose was to elicit emotion, so they would serve The Entity well until she decided to go back to doing Trials. Thus, this is how David and Dwight found themselves in a new game. But some things never change. Stakes are high, death is always nearby, and a foe stands in their way. [Basically, Kingfield but it's the video game ICO. And they got turned into teenagers. R.I.P.]

AO3 Link

Dwight awoke, prepared for another trial. But, he quickly noticed that something was different. He was in a cage with no means of escape. He began to panic, shaking against the bars. The Entity never did crap like this. After seeing the futility of trying to escape, he took deep breaths to calm himself down. He looked around to see what he could notice… a long way down and a set of spiraling stairs too far away to reach, even if he could break out. At least he seemed safe, for the time being. He didn’t doubt for a second that this wasn’t The Entity’s doing, and hell and despair was bound to break loose eventually.

Dwight sighed and waited with a fearful anticipation for things to progress. As he nervously chewed on his nails, he noticed something about himself. Something was on his teeth… braces. He quickly prayed that what he thought was happening wasn’t happening. He felt his face, feeling the telltale bums of some acne, got up and noticed that he felt shorter, and sunk back to the floor of the cage with a groan. Yup, that thing turned him into a teenager. The Entity was undeniably cruel, but this was a new low for her.

He wondered why The Entity would do such a thing. Had the sight of blood and gore finally become tiresome? What did she have to gain from what she was doing now that she wasn’t already getting before? Dwight almost didn’t want to think about it. Then, he heard another call out to him.

“Oi! Someone there?!” the other boy called out from below. Quickly Dwight scurried to the bars of the cage to see who could be.

“Yes! Yes! Someone's hEre!” he frantically called out, his voice cracking as he screamed “here.” He couldn’t be bothered to care. The sight and sound of another person was comforting.

“All right! Just ‘old tight then!” the boy said. Dwight noticed that it seemed familiar, and a spark of hope emerged.

“David! Is that you!?”

“…Holy shite, Dwight?! ‘M on my way luv!” David assured, shifting from a jog up the stairs to a full on sprint. By the time he reached where he was level with Dwight, David was out of breath. “Is it… is it really you?” he huffed.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Dwight confirmed with great joy. He felt so happy to see David he could cry.

“Well, a sight for sore eyes I’ll say, and a new sight at that too.” he said, noticing Dwight’s younger appearance. Dwight blushed away at the compliment, hiding his face behind his hands. Then, he realized that David must also be in a younger body as well. He shifted his fingers away from his eyes to get a look at his boyfriend in teenage form.

“Aww, David, you’re so cute!” Dwight exclaimed as he moved closer to the edge of the cage to get a better look. Don’t get Dwight wrong, he loved how rugged David looked, but he couldn’t help but fawn over the teen David.

“God, don’t bloody remind me…” he said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Even his voice was kinda cute now, nowhere as deep as his adult self. His face was a bit softer from having yet to deal with trying to heal from fighting so much. It was even a little chubbier. And of course, he was a lot shorter, but shorter than expected. His hair was in a simple style, cut a similar length all around rather than a fade on the back and sides with a tuft of hair on top. He also seemed to have the beginnings of some muscle definition, rather than the well defined body his adult self had. None of that really mattered to Dwight though. It was David, and he was gonna love David no matter what.

“But you are cute!”

“How ‘bout we get you out first ‘fore we start this.”

“Oh, right, right! Hmm…” Dwight hummed as scanned around for something to help in that regard.

“You know, you’re pretty cute too.” David said as he awaited orders from Dwight. He too was shorter, but had a similar haircut to his adult self. His face was softer, A little lankier too, but still obviously Dwight. None of it really mattered though. It was Dwight, and he was gonna love Dwght no matter what.

Even if their bodies had regressed, their love and memories with each other persisted.

“How ‘bout wE-” Dwight began in a mocking tone, but then his voice cracked. He quickly covered his mouth. “Don't you dare.” Dwight said.

“Wasn't gonna say nothin’ luv.” David responded as he held in a fit of laughter. He knew he wasn’t in any position to laugh either, but seeing Dwight like this was fantastic, fun even. He imagined that his boyfriend felt the same way anyhow.

Eventually, Dwight spotted a lever higher up. After jumping through a window and a bit of navigation, David finally reached it. And thankfully, it did the trick, slowly lowering the cage.

“Nice!” Dwight celebrated with a hop and a fist in the air.

“Right. See you down there luv!” David happily nodded.

David felt as if he couldn't get there soon enough, perhaps because of his shorter stature now. But, he did. Once back at the floor level, Dwight directed him to a spot where he could jump and land on top of the cage. Hopefully, they could both jump on it at the same time and break the chain, and hopefully the lock too or a bar or something.

On the count of three, David jumped to the cage as Dwight jumped up. They landed at about the same time, causing a chain to break under the sudden force. The cage fell a few feet with a loud clang. David slipped off as it hit the ground, fortunate to land on the stone with his behind rather than his head.

The lock was broken upon impact, and the cage door creaked open.

"Yeah, we did it!" Dwight celebrated as he took a step out. Unfortunately, his foot got caught on the lip of a platform, causing him to trip, landing right on top of David. Embarrassed, they both remained in a quiet shock for a moment.

"You, uh, come 'ere often?" David joked. Dwight laughed at the cheesy line.

"Nah, but maaaybe I will if you're here. Maybe." Dwight quipped.

"Ahh, cheeky. Sounds like y'need a little convincin'."

"Do I? I'm not sure you can." Dwight said, knowing very well what he was doing.

"Sounds like a challenge. I like a challenge." David smiled, and closed his eyes as Dwight leaned in. But, that kiss did not come.

Suddenly, Dwight's weight was lifted off of him. He opened his eyes to see that Dwight was just as surprised as well. A shadow lifted him up and over its shoulders in a familiar manner.

"Hey, lEt gO!" Dwight shouted as it carried him away. Quickly, David picked up an unlit torch and dashed over to the shadow.

"Fock off bugger!" David yelled as he slammed the makeshift weapon over its head. It fell to the ground, releasing Dwight in the process. With one more good swing to its back as it lay stunned on the floor, the shadow disappeared into nothing. Swiftly, David cast aside the torch and rushed to Dwight's side.

"You good Dwight?" David asked, looking him over to make sure nothing was amiss.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm alright. What was that?" he wondered, looking past David to where the shadow was felled.

"I don't know, but I don't think we're in a trial, not a normal one anyhow." David noted as he helped Dwight up.

"Yeah… Say, how did you end up here?" Dwight wondered, hoping some light could be shed on the situation.

"Don't know. Woke up in one a them caskets over there. Managed to knock it over and break free. You?"

"Woke up in that cage." Dwight pointed. Still in the dark.

"Any reason she might do this to us?"

"Probably a million reasons. But for now, we have no way of knowing." Dwight sighed. "But, at least we're stuck with each other." Dwight said on a more positive note, and pecked David on his cheek, making him blush.

"Stuck with me huh? 'M wounded Dwight…" David said, turning his back to his love, pretending to be hurt.

"Aww, can I ever make it up to you?" he wondered, knowing the answer already. He embraced David from behind, throwing his arms around the other and resting his head on top of David's.

"I dunno, maybe." he teased. Then he realized what was happening. "Wait a bloody minute… are you taller 'an me?"

The realization hit Dwight like a truck. He backed away to confirm their suspicions, and a happy smile spread across his face. He even giggled a little.

"I'm am so going to enjOy this!" he cried as he pulled David in for an embrace one more. Dwight was about a little more than a head taller than his boyfriend, so David's head came to rest at Dwight's chest.

"Well don't get used to it luv. We both know how we end up. M' late growth spurt is gonna kick you in the arse." David said, trying to sound annoyed and angry as he leaned into the hug. He wasn't though. He was going to enjoy this while he could too. With one final squeeze, Dwight let his boyfriend go.

"Alright! Let's see… how are we going to gEt out of here…" Dwight said as he scanned the surroundings. The dim light by torch gave just enough light to be able to see.

"How 'bout behind 'ere? Looks like there's another room." David noticed with a light kick to the bottom of the pillar-wall.

"Oh yeah, you're right. Maybe we could…" Dwight began to wonder. But, once his fingers grazed the stone, a bright light shone, blinding them for a moment. Once the sudden spark of light faded, the pillars moved to reveal a corridor to another section of the place.

"Well damn. I knew your fingers could work some magic, but not like that."

"David!" Dwight yelled, his face reddening with embarrassment. David chuckled as Dwight gave him a light slap on his arm.

"Sorry babe, couldn't resist." he said, a devious little smile on his face. Then, he took Dwight's hand. "Well, we should get a move on luv. Doubt our benefactor 'll be merciful if we sit 'round twiddlin' with our thumbs. Don't think she'll be giving us answers to much either."

"Yeah, you're right. As long as we got each other, we'll be fine." Dwight affirmed, tightening his grip. With a kiss, they proceeded onto the next room.

After a series of steps to help Dwight navigate the area and fending off more shadows that began to look familiar upon closer inspection, which they tried not to dwell on, they finally made it outside. They were still hand in hand when the fresh air hit them. Their hands rarely broke away from one another during the ordeal.

"Wow, It's nice out here." Dwight said quietly.

"Yeah. Wouldn't expect something like this from her."

The place was beautiful, with no ominous vibe to boot. They guessed they were stuck in some kind of castle, an old looking one at that. They didn't recognize it from anywhere, and David distinctly didn't recognize the architecture. Didn't seem like a place built in the future or modernity either, unless complex stonework made a comeback. Then, Dwight noticed a bench nearby in the shade.

"How about we rest for a moment? She probably wouldn't make a bench if she didn't want us to use it." Dwight reasoned. His experience told him that The Entity was quite the minimalist. While her recreations of trial settings were faithful, her additions were bare, and her subtractions were many. The result was a place that was exactly what it needed to be, nothing more, nothing less.

"Yeah, I could use one. Legs are bloody killing me after all those stairs!" he rightfully complained.

He took a seat first, Dwight taking the one next to him. They leaned against each other, taking in the peacefulness of their surroundings. There was a light breeze. Birds chirped as they flew by, and the air was a comfortable warmth. Eventually, they closed their eyes and fell asleep on the cool bench, hands still intertwined.

It was their first truly peaceful sleep in a very long time.

They eventually awoke, feeling refreshed. They stayed together on that bench for only a few moments longer. They didn't want to give her a reason to interfere with an otherwise relatively acceptable ordeal. They'd take this over a trial any day. They briefly hoped the others were alright too, off on their own odd but agreeable adventure.

They continued on with their journey, David helping Dwight get from point A to point B because he wasn't exactly a physically strong guy, and defeating shadows that threatened to not only take Dwight, but also pull at their heartstrings. Many times, David swore he would never let them take Dwight into that dark with them.

Many more times, they found comfort in simply being with each other. That lay in their rest stops at the benches, gazing at the serene scenery, and even in exploring the sprawling castle. For all its concerning mystery, it's grandiose couldn't be denied. Thus, they chose to enjoy the exploration too, in part out of spite against The Entity. By comparison to the trials, this place was a heaven.

But, people make mistakes. Ancient, and Great gods don't.

David was the first to wake this time, stretching with a loud groan that awoke a still sleepy Dwight.

"Five more minutes…" Dwight sleepily moaned.

"All right luv, five more." David agreed, and curled up closer to Dwight. He blindly searched for Dwight's hand and took it into his. By then, it was instinctual. Didn't want any shadows sneaking up and taking away his love. It was a damn good excuse to always be holding hands, even if they got sweaty and clammy easily. Neither minded though.

What they imagined were five minutes , the couple was up and continuing their journey. They crossed a bridge into an assault by the shadows. It was the most shadows they had encountered in a single attack. But, Dwight was confident in David, and David in himself.

However, that confidence proved to be their mistake. David had strayed too far from Dwight.

"David! Help! Oh god. David!" Dwight cried out as he beat his fists on the shadow's back. He tried kicking it as he flailed, but to no avail.

"Dwight? Dwight!" David screamed once he saw what was going on. He beat his way through the shadows as fast as he could, fueled by the desire to save his love, by the fear of losing him. He clawed his way through the horde more and more frantically as Dwight grew closer and closer to the void from which the shadows emerged, and into which he would surely disappear.

It was not enough. It was too late. As Dwight was submerged into the portal, he could still glimpse what lay outside of it. He saw David continue to struggle, tears running down his face with a pained and intense expression on it. Then, a wave of energy, and he froze, that despairing look on his face forever etched into Dwight's mind as it was onto the stone corpse.

"No… No no no no no!" Dwight hoarsely screamed, tears of his own flowing relentlessly. He futilely tried to reach out for David's outstretched hand, but he couldn't reach, couldn't feel the warmth from that small act of intimacy anymore.

This place was different. What if death here truly was the end? Both men would have been alright with that at one point. But now, they had each other, a great reason to live .

He was eventually dropped off somewhere by the shadow. He almost didn't notice with grief consuming him. But then, he heard it, a familiar song.

La la la la la la laa

Laa la la la laa la la

He quickly got up, wiping his tears away even though they continued to flow and blur his vision. He could make out the thing in front of him. The lullaby that was anything but a comfort made it clear it was the huntress. Yet, it didn't exactly look like her. She was shrouded in much darkness. She only seemed to retain her pale mask and skin.

Her head methodically swayed to her song like a slow metronome. He readied a fighting stance like David had taught him. She got up, and slowly walked towards him. Inch by inch, his stance weakened, along with his will. He then found himself falling to the floor, curling into a ball.

Finally, she stood before him. Gently, she picked him up, and held him close as if he were a small child and not a lanky teen.

La la la la la la laa

Laa la la la laa la la

Despite knowing, he leaned into it, holding tighter. Perhaps it was selfish, but he focused on trying to fool himself into thinking it was David. Back in his strong, comforting arms, something he was sure he would never feel again now.

He wailed in despair. Eventually, his weeping stopped. He too was stone now. Yet, the shadowy huntress continued her lullaby, and continued to cradle him in her arms, happy and content that the little one was calm now. Finally, a success in the one hunt that eluded her.

"Five more minutes…" Dwight sleepily moaned.

"All right luv, five more." David agreed, and curled up closer to Dwight. He blindly searched for Dwight's hand and took it into his.

Refreshed, the couple continued their adventure. Soon, they came across the largest horde of shadows that had come across yet. They were defeated soon enough, David sticking close enough to Dwight to be able to protect him in this instance.

Their journey continued. Brave David clearing jumps that made Dwight quake, Dwight jumping after some coaxing from David, David catching him and pulling him up when he came up just a bit short. Taking care of more shadows, opening more pillars with magic. Eventually, they came face to face with their antagonist for the first time. She appeared in a spark of light and dark.

Hm hm hm hm hm hm hmm

Hmm hm hm hm hmm hm hm

Still holding hands, David put himself between her and Dwight, his trusty stick drawn.

"Fock off you bloody monster!" David yelled at her.

Dwight. I'm waiting for you, dear child. she asked in a sickeningly sweet voice and smile, arms outstretched towards him to welcome him. Come to where you belong! Yet, as she spoke, her lullaby did not stop. She also spoke in both her mother tongue and the one they both understood.

"Fuck off!" David yelled. With a scream, he charged at her with the stick. It proved effective against shadows, why not her? The answer was magic. A field of energy simply made him unmajestically flop back, knocking the stick out of his hand.

"DavId!" Dwight yelled as he rushed to his side.

This is the thing you follow? What are you doing with something like that? she said to Dwight.

Dear Dwight lives in a far different world from you. Know who you are, and leave him for that reason. she ordered David, and in a spark of light, the shadowy Huntress vanished.

"Are you Alright?" Dwight was quick to ask. "'M fine. Had my arse handed to me there," David groaned, "but I'll live. A better question is what the 'ell’s she on about?"

"I don't know. Who ever knows what those monsters think." Dwight said. They both figured she was someone who wouldn't make much sense if she spoke anyhow.

So, they went onward, now knowing of their greater enemy in this game they were thrown into by The Entity. Since their trusty stick, now partially burnt, had proven to be slightly less trustworthy, they were unsure of how they would defeat the huntress, if they could, or if that was even the endgame of his ordeal. There were still many things unknown about The Entity and this game.

After the usual fanfare, they came to rest at a bench looking out to the ocean. Despite the overcast sky as well, it remained comfortably warm. With the time for repose upon them, their minds wandered. Dwight still held onto David's hand, letting him absent-mindedly rub his palm. Eventually, their wordlessness was broken.

"Hey Dwight?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, y'know?"

"I know. You know I love you too, right?"

"I do."

"Good. I'm glad."

Their journey to find a way out of the castle continued on. The threat of various types of shadows, small and many, flying, and the normal ones, persisted. Traversing the place was a team effort neither minded.

For such moments when it was just them, they could imagine they were teens living a grand, fantastical adventure together like those of storybooks. They both wondered how their lives could have turned out if they had known each other when they were younger, before The Entity. Realistically, they both knew that their meeting probably wouldn't have resulted in anything meaningful, all things considered. But, they dreamed of something wonderful all the same.

This place was different. What if death here truly was the end? Both men would have been alright with that at one point. But now, they had each other, a great reason to live.

Dwight continued to try and break free of the shadow's grip, to escape and run back to David. And do something, anything. But, they came out of the portal soon enough, and Dwight was at the feet of the shadowy Huntress.

La la la la la la laa

Laa la la la laa la la

Dwight screamed and rushed at her, hitting her repeatedly as she did not react to his weak blows.

"Give him bAck to me, damn yOu!" he bawled as his voice cracked.

She tried to comfort him with an embrace, but he pushed her away. He began to run. As he did so, he began to turn to stone.

She calmly walked over to him, and saw the saddening expression on his stone face.

Another failed hunt of that which is elusive. She hoped there would be more successes in her future. She knew that feeling of success in this elusive hunt now, and wanted it more and more.

"Dwight?"

"Yeah?"

"You think it's bad I wouldn't mind staying here forever?" David wondered. Dwight gave it some thought.

"Nah. I don't think so. This place isn’t sO bad. A lot better than any trial, that's for sure."

"Well, more than that. I don't 'ave a lot going for me back home. At least 'ere, I don't 'ave to worry 'bout that."

"Yeah… I get what you mean." Dwight replied. He didn't have much going for him either back home. He wasn't even sure what would happen if he got back.

Would he end up when The Entity picked him up, or ten years into the future. Either way, a lot of adjustment would be in order. The only thing he did know was that he and David would be able to find one another since they came from about the same time. That also begged the question if they would remember each other. Dwight didn't want to remember all the terrible torture and death he saw and endured. But, he didn't want to forget David and the friends he made while there.

"But, I still think I want to go back. I still want to be somebody. I want to live a real life. I think I'm brave enough to do that now." Dwight said with quiet pride.

"'M sure you'll do great luv." David was happy for him, but this also made him sad. Maybe that thing was right…

"Thanks David, for believing in me." Dwight gratefully said, and leaned against David as they say.

"Welcome luv. I'll always believe in you." he replied with a smile. It quickly faded though. He could believe in Dwight, always would. Couldn't say the same for himself.

Dwight felt David hold onto him more tightly. At first, he interpreted it as an act of affection more than anything else. But, he couldn't shake the odd feeling that something was up with his boyfriend.

"What's wrong David?" he asked, pulling apart so he could look at him. David averted his gaze.

"… You wouldn't leave me, would you?" he asked after a moment of hesitation. Such moments of vulnerability were difficult for him still. Though, admittedly easier than before.

"What? No! David, I-" Dwight began, realizing what David was really talking about. "David, come on, look at me." Dwight begged, and gently lifted David's chin.

He looked into Dwight's eyes for only a moment before returning to look down.

"I'd never leave you behind, alright? Wherever I go, I want to be by your side. Now matter where or when we are, that's not gonna change. I love you." Dwight finished, placing a kiss on David's forehead. David returned the gesture with a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks babe. Needed that." David said, returning to cuddling with Dwight. He smiled and felt a warmth spread across his body as Dwight enveloped him. It was a good feeling to know that Dwight wanted to be by his side.

"Well, this place looks 'bout right." David noted. It appeared to be a gate leading to the outside. Behind it, a bridge. "Wanna work you magic again luv?"

"Here goes nothing." Dwight said, and cautiously grazed the door. And just like last time, a spark of light. But this time, it's magnitude and intensity was far greater, eliciting a scream out of Dwight.

David yelled for him, but was pushed away by the light. When it faded, the gate began to open. David ignored it, and rushed to Dwight's side as he lay on the ground.

"Dwight. Dwight!" David said with great worry as he tried to shake the other awake.

“I’m alright.” he grumbled as David helped him up. “Come on. We should hurry.” David hummed in agreement, and led the way, holding Dwight’s hand as he ran behind.

At the bridge’s midpoint, something unexpected happened. A beam of a spark of light hit Dwight, holding him back and sending David tumbling forward and off the edge. He just barely caught the ledge, and hurried to pull himself back up. Then he noticed that the bridge was retracting, separating him and Dwight.

With a grunt, he jumped the gap, narrowly missing the ledge. But Dwight was quick to act despite being zapped, and grabbed onto David’s hand. Dwight struggled to pull him up. As David struggled too, Dwight felt a terrible feeling. It began with his feet, and spread up his body, taking his legs, waist, torso. It was a literally heavy feeling. Despite this, he continued to try and help David up, as he had done for him many times during their adventure. Then, he sensed another. He didn’t need to look up to see who it was, nor did he care.

From below, Dwight could see the shadow Huntress looming above Dwight, staring down at him with a smile. Then he saw it. She was turning Dwight to stone. It was too late.

“I’m sorry. I- I love you.” Dwight said through tears, and let go of David before the petrification wave could take him too. David plummeted to the waters below, a range of emotions overtaking him before he blacked out.

When David awoke, he was on the rocky entrance of a cave. He’d lost his trusty stick in the fall, and was left with nothing now. There was only one way to go, so David went into the cave. All there was for him to do now was find his way back to the castle, and save Dwight. Or die trying.

That thing was right. He wasn’t like Dwight. He wasn’t strong in those wonderous ways that Dwight was. Maybe it was a tad pathetic or unhealthy, but it's who he was. But so what? He could always work on that later. And he loved Dwight, and Dwight loved him. For now, he would do all that he could: focus on saving his boyfriend.

The cave and subsequent areas proved to be more daunting than the castle. But, David persisted, even managing to find an axe that carried the spark of light and dark. It would surely prove useful later when he beat that thing to bits for what it had done.

The whole time, David could not help but notice that his hand felt so empty without Dwight holding onto it.

He tried holding the axe in that hand, but it did not provide any comfort. The handle was hard and cold, like stone. Nothing like Dwight's warm and soft hands. He quickly switched the sword back to his other hand and pressed forward.

Many more shadows manifested as he found his way back into the castle. Without Dwight and his insight, David found the place to be more puzzling. Now that he was alone, he couldn't help but focus on the fact that these were more like shades than mere shadows. Many of them were in the image of fellow survivors: friends and acquaintances.

He saw them emerge from the caskets, the same kind as the one he broke out of. He really hoped this was some sort of cruel joke by The Entity, and not really them. Regardless, at the end of the day, it was them or him and Dwight, so David did not hesitate to force the shades to dispel. He appreciated the axe since it took care of the enemies quicker. He would have appreciated it more back when he had Dwight to protect.

And eventually, he found Dwight, frozen in place, reaching out to David and surrounded by those shadows.

"Get away from him!" he ordered the wretched things. That got their attention, and they went for him, only to quickly be dispelled.

Solemnly, David walked up the steps, and fell to his knees in front of the statue, letting the axe fall too. He placed his hand into his love's. What was once alive with warmth and love was now dry and cold and hard. He began to weep.

"I'm sorry Dwight… I'm sorry…"

How long he stayed there, he wasn't sure. But eventually, he picked himself up, and the axe.

"I'll be back. I promise."

With that, he proceeded onward. He held the axe up to a set of stone pillars. A spark of light, and they moved to reveal an elevator. He could hear the Huntress's song echoing from above.

This struggle would be over soon, and he and Dwight would be united. That's how these kinds of things went. Beat the bad guy, and things would be fine.

The elevator reached the top with a clang. Past the wide hall and in the open room at the end of it, the shadow Huntress sat.

Hm hm hm hm hm hm hmm

Hmm hm hm hm hmm hm hm

You come for the release of death. It is not an escape. she revealed to David as he angrily walked down the hall.

You come for a love you don't deserve. Love is not eternal. she told him as he stared her down in the middle of the room.

"And wot in the blazes do you know about love, either of you?" he questioned with a rage in his voice.

She laughed, and the lullaby was the only sound of hers to remain. A field of energy then surrounded her. From it, a wave flew out. David braced himself, with the axe in front to shield him.

And it worked. The wave flew around the axe, and a quick glance showed that the two nearby pillars could be used as protection too.

With a battle cry, David charged at the Huntress. The axe clashed with the force field, knocking the weapon out of his hand and sending him flying back. He saw her charging up to send another wave out, and hurried to take cover behind a pillar. Once the wave of light and dark passed, he hurried to the axe and rushed at the monster again.

Once more, he was thrown back. Though this time, the sword landed closer to him. He blocked another wave, and attacked again. All the while, she swayed to her song as she sat on the throne.

David rushed at her once more. With a roar, the barrier shattered, and the axe embedded itself in her chest. She stopped her lullaby for a moment before weakly resuming it.

Sing 'nonomori'

Say 'nonomori'

It's all we have left

She gently said. And with one final, bone-chilling laugh, there was a flash of light, and the shade huntress was simply gone. The force sent David flying backwards into the air. His back hit a wall, and he fell to the floor, unconscious.

Dwight woke to a thundering roar. He didn't know where he was. As he got up, he noticed he was a shadow now, sparks of darkness flying off him. He looked around, and saw that two blockade pillars had been opened. He knew it was David, hoped it was anyhow, and rushed over, going up the elevator.

His suspicions were correct. David lay in the center of the room. Dwight ran to his side. He wasn't dead, thankfully. Just unconscious. Another rumble, and Dwight realized that the place was falling apart. Quickly, but gently, he scooped David up. It took less strength than he thought, likely because of his condition.

Running on intuition, Dwight traversed the area, finally coming to a lone boat tied to a dock. Carefully, he set David in it. He considered getting in, but decided against it. He had the feeling he was done for, or would be soon enough. He didn't want to cause David any more pain. So, he pushed the boat, and let it drift away towards the nearby shore away from the island. He hoped for the best for David as a sadness enveloped him while he watched the boat become smaller and smaller.

David found himself waking up in the boat, which had since landed on the beach. There was a dull pain at the back of his head, but he ignored it. He got up and stepped out of the wooden boat, but tripped and landed face first in the sand. A real great way to start things.

He picked himself up and dusted himself off, scanning the beach as he did so, and saw nothing at first. But then, in the distance, he saw something lying on the beach. With nothing better to do, he began to walk towards it. As he neared it, he realized the figure looked familiar, and began to sprint towards it. Even closer, he saw that it was Dwight.

"Dwight! Dwight!" he called out as he shook the other awake.

"Five more minutes…" he groaned as he turned to face away from what awoke him. David laughed, and began to cry tears of joy as he picked Dwight up, thoroughly waking him up in the process.

"Huh? David? David!" Dwight exclaimed as he realized what was going on and tightly embraced him back. He too began to cry tears of joy.

They briefly broke apart to look into each other's eyes, and kissed.

Hand in hand, they sat together, watching and listening to the waves, and sharing a watermelon they found growing in a patch not too far away. They did not know how long they would have this moment, where they felt love and contentment so intensely. They didn't ponder on how long they would have this anyhow. They just wanted to live in that moment then and there, so they did.

"Hey, you think we can count this as our first real date?" Dwight asked before taking a bite of a piece of watermelon.

"Do y'want it to?"

"Do you?" Dwight asked in return. David pondered the question for a moment.

"It's a nice place, innit? Nice for our first date." David answered. "Would take you somewhere fancier, but, y'know." Dwight chuckled at that.

"As long as you're here, this is perfect." he smiled. David pecked Dwight's forehead in response.

Hand in hand, the lovers leaned against one another, feeling a love they thought they would never feel.

#kingfield #david king #dwight fairfield #ICO #dead by daylight #dbd #Kingfield's Fourth Anniversary #6.1k words #I originally intended for this to be for the last day #buuut I decided to save the last day for something more... fitting

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pixelatedrose · 4 years

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Soulbound Part Seven

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Masterpost

Word Count: 2,788

Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality, background Remile

Warnings: Uncensored swearing, nightmares, mention of implied self harm (skip from “It had been another nightmare” to the end of the paragraph.), slight self deprecation, if I missed anything at all please please tell me, and if there’s anything you’d like me to tag, don’t hesitate to ask!

Summary:

Roman Prince and Logan Rose are soulmates. They’re platonic soulmates though. They both have the same Soul mark to prove it. But they both have one other soul mark, binding them to one other person. And when they find Patton Miles, it just so happens that they’re both his soulmate. Logan being his Soulbound Soulmate, and Roman being a platonic soulmate. But something feels missing. And it feels filled, shockingly so, when they meet a certain someone a year and a half after they found each other.

Chapter 7

Logan Rose woke up with a bit of a start. He glanced around his room wildly, everything appearing fuzzy without his glasses. He calmed himself down before pulling the cord on his bedside lamp and examining his arm.

It was bare and pale as always, save for his tattoo that depicted Patton's name.

Despite everything, Logan let out a shaky breath. He knew it was illogical. And that only bothered him more.

It's just a dream, Logan. Nothing is wrong. Logan picked up a book on the ground in spite of himself and began reading. However he found- as he always did- that he was unable to read much further than a few pages.

"It's just a dream...It was nothing but amalgamated memories and images…It wasn't...It can't have been…" Logan took another deep breath to steady himself.

And once again resorted to the only method that ever seemed to work.

He flipped open a small journal and began writing down his dream with as much detail as possible.

It had been another nightmare. He had been sobbing on the floor of a foreign room before dragging himself over to an all too familiar box under the bed where he fished out a pencil sharpener blade and had-

Logan paused for a moment in his writing. He always hated writing about his nightmares. It was necessary for him to fall back asleep, but it was so hard sometimes.

Every once in a while Logan Rose had acutely vivid dreams about ordinarily mundane things that didn't seem to make sense.

Seeing people he'd never seen before at a birthday party he'd never attended.

A dark room that slowly got edgier as time wore on filled with a multitude of different events. Most of them less than savory and quite traumatic.

A kid, taller than Logan, pushing him to the ground and pulling him back up by his hair only to have someone else spit in his face.

These dreams made no sense to Logan. Dreams were supposed to be concoctions of memories, images, ideas, and emotions. Logan's brain should not be able to create such a vivid image of a house he'd never seen before. And yet Logan would have remembered if he'd ever seen the odd house with the strange yellow door that his mind so often brought up.

Logan finished writing down his nightmare in his dream journal and set it down once again, rubbing his tired eyes. He glanced over at one of his many bookcases, sighing at the vast amount of dream journals he had filled up over the years.

He had started cataloging his dreams back in fourth grade when his mother had suggested that writing about his dreams would help him remember them and even sleep better. So now Logan had nearly 6 years worth of journals filled to the brim with dream after dream after dream. Even if he could never remember what he had dreamed that night, he always wrote down that he was unable to recall any details.

Logan lay himself back down to sleep as he quietly pondered his vivid dreams and what they could possibly mean, if anything at all.

That's absolutely ludicrous. Dreams don't mean anything. They're just dreams. As he drifted off once again, Logan found himself with a ghost of doubt cast across his mind.

Just dreams…

Logan Rose fell asleep, his mind conjuring up recipes that called for memories, images, sounds, ideas, and emotions.

~~•~~

Roman woke up to his alarm which he lazily slapped, sending it snoozing. Five minutes later it started yelling again, and this time Roman reluctantly rolled himself out of bed. Quite literally in fact. He had found it always helped him wake up.

He hit the floor dramatically and lay down on the floor for a few minutes staring at his ceiling.

Roman suddenly was struck by a brilliant idea and he sat up straight and got ready for the day as quick as possible.

"Heya Ro-Bro! Sleep like a corpse?" Remus asked as Roman came down the stairs.

"Why would you phrase it like that? Like actually why??"

"Because it's interesting and you're boring so i have to be interesting for the both of us!!"

Roman watched his twin brother sprinkle poptart crumbs into the omelet he was cooking and grimaced. "Well you sure do a good job of that one…"

"Hey, Ro, have you seen the dandelions?"

Roman paused for a brief moment. "Why the fuck are you eating dandelions?"

"You absolute shitheaded moron it's for Brigit."

Roman flushed. "Oh." He had been thinking of Virgil again and his head was still mushy from sleep. "In the fridge…"

Remus turned and pulled out a small bag of dandelions before hopping over to a glass tank which contained a small tortoise. "Roman's an idiot, isn't he Brigit? Isn't he?" Remus cooed at his tortoise, dropping three of the four flowers in along with a small pile of lettuce before looking at the fourth flower and asking out loud. "Hey, dandelions are edible, right??"

And before Roman had time to violently judge his brother, Remus shoved the entire fucking flower in his mouth like the absolute heathen he was.

"Hey, not too bad." Roman's trash-man of a brother said, walking over to his slowly burning food.

"I swear to god I don't know how we're related…" Roman muttered, returning his mind to a much more savory person.

~~•~~

Roman got to school and met up with his friends. He debated skipping a few steps in his plan and looking for him right then, but decided against it. He didn't want to come off seeming like a creep.

So he waited until his third period rolled around and felt his eyes light up as they fell to the emo boy scrunched up in the back corner of the classroom. Something was definitely brighter about Virgil today. Maybe it was the new hoodie he was wearing or the fresh makeup on his face, or perhaps it was the way he looked rested or the fact that he was nodding along to his music and silently mouthing the words, but Roman was unreasonably happy to see Virgil in a good mood.

“Good morning, Hot Topic! You’re looking splendid today!” Roman bubbled, winking at the mass of emo that sat at the table.

Virgil snorted and looked up at him. “Aw, you think I’m hot!”

“On the contrary! I was talking to my reflection!”

“Ah, that makes more sense. I put too much faith in you to think you’d ever stop being self-absorbed!”

“Hey! You’ve only known me for what, two days?”

Virgil shifted in his seat, having taken out his earbuds already. “I tend to be a pretty good judge of character.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep.”

Roman took his chance to strike. “Well I bet you wouldn’t be able to judge my friend’s characters off of one glance!” Roman smiled at Virgil, missing the way the other’s shoulders relaxed when he spoke. “Want to join me with my friends at lunch?”

Roman patiently awaited the inevitable decline. It was part of his plan. He would laugh it off and be charming as ever and continue to pester him until he-

“Sure.” Virgil said casually, a hint of a smile on his face.

What.

“You seem like a cool guy, I guess. Should I meet you by the cafeteria?”

Roman’s head was a jumbled mess and where he had been planning on being charming, he had fallen end over end down the stairs of grace and was drowning in his own pool of poor planning.

“Uh, uhm, n-no I’ll just meet you outside your class!” Roman had just barely been able to save the end of that sentence. He had not expected the emo boy to accept his offer so quickly. He thought the boy was shy and reserved, didn’t like talking to people. Curiosity to know what made the emo boy trust him overtook Roman. “Would it be terribly rude of me to ask why you’d want to come and eat with a bunch of people you hardly know?”

Virgil shrugged. “I dunno. I just kinda…” He turned and pulled up his hood. “Feel like I can trust you. I also don’t really have anyone else, so I mean I don’t have many options.” he lowered his voice to the point where Roman wouldn’t have been able to hear the emo. “And if I at least look like I have friends maybe people will leave me alone this time around…”

It worked and Roman hadn’t heard his breathless whisper. “Oh! Well I’m touched! In fact I think-”

Ding!! Ding!! Ding!!

Damn that bell.

Class began and Roman didn’t get the chance to mention that he and Patton shared a class. A minor detail, but he was irrationally disappointed that he couldn’t keep talking to his newfound...Friend.

Roman thought. Friend? Am I not jumping the gun by considering us friends this early on? What would Virgil think? Would he be okay with it? Would he be disgusted? Roman’s mind filled with the image of Roman calling the boy his friend and Virgil smiling widely, happy to be his friend. Roman let himself smile too.

The period ended and Roman said his farewells to Virgil. Roman pulled out his phone between classes and brought up the group chat.

Hey I’m bringing a friend of mine to come and sit with us at lunch kk

It was just a few moments before his phone buzzed quietly in his hands.

Pat-man: OOOooooOOOooOOoo~~!!

Pat-man: A *friend* you say? *nudge nudge wink wink*

Each of his texts were signed with a series of emojis, ranging from hearts to faces.

Roman typed out a text, leaning against the wall outside his classroom.

Yes Padre, a FRIEND

Nothing more than that! I swear you rwad into things way to much

His Phone buzzed again and Roman looked at the new text.

Pocket-protector: First off, you misspelled 'Read' and second, you used the wrong 'Too'. Third, if you're speaking of the boy you have gone on about for the past two days, then-

The bell rang and Roman silently thanked it for saving him the time to read Logan's perfectly composed letter of a text filled with perfect grammar.

The hours ebbed by anguishingly slow, it seemed the more he wanted to see the pale boy the more the weights the universe attached to time's ankles.

Finally- finally- the hour struck three minutes till the bell and Roman silently excused himself knowing that the abandoned hall pass in his pocket that would free him of suspicion.

He got to Virgil’s classroom just in time for the bell to ring and for Roman to quickly lean himself up against the lockers casually.

Virgil walked out and seemed almost surprised to see Roman standing there before a ghost of a smile adorned his pale face.

“Honestly, you don’t have to skip out of class early just to wait for me.” Virgil said as he walked up to the taller boy.

“I know, but it wouldn’t be very chivalrous of me to leave my new friend wandering through the halls with no guide!” Roman smiled and the pair started walking towards the cafeteria.

“And so that would make you my knight in shining armor?” Virgil teased.

“No, I like to think of myself as more of a prince.”

Virgil snorted back his laughter. “But I thought they gave princes education! They’re doing a miserable job rearing you.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny, Jerky Mcjerk-face.”

“Ouch! Is that the best comeback you have for me, Princey?” Before, Virgil had called Roman by the theatrical nickname in a friendly manner, now his tone was mocking him, a soundless giggle twinkling in his blue eyes.

Roman hrumphed and crossed his arms. “Sometimes I’m not entirely on point with my words! I’m human! Even someone as flawless as me can make mistakes!”

Virgil barked out a short laugh. “Ha!! Flawless! I should bring you up on charges for false advertising!”

“Then maybe I should do the same with you, Surly-Temple! You’re not as shy as you seem, are you?”

“Who ever said I was shy? I just don’t like people.”

“Oh…” Roman internally cursed at his lack of words. He had jumped to conclusions. It was a simple mistake, but it reminded Roman of another thing he should try and fix. He shook it off easily. “Well in that case I’m sure you’ll have no problem introducing yourself to my friends!” He led Virgil through the thick of the now bustling and ever so loud cafeteria to a table in the back near one of the backdoors leading outside. It was a small circular table, like all the others in the room, perfect for a friend group to claim and have no one else intrude.

Patton and Logan were already sitting down and chatting about what sounded like the emotional and psychological repercussions of being torn from your dimension and being thrown into another. A very fascinating topic to say the least.

“Hey, Padre! Pocket protector!” Roman announced as they neared the table. Roman noticed out of the corner of his eye Virgil throwing up his hood. “I must introduce to you all, a one Virgil Sanders!” Roman theatrically bowed and gestured toward the purple haired boy next to him.

Patton stood up immediately and flounced over to the boy. “Hi!! My name’s Patton, but you can just call me Dad!!” He said with a wink as he held out his hand for Virgil to shake. Virgil seemed to relax as he took the sorter boy’s hand in his.

“Virgil. It’s nice to meet you, Patton.” He smiled lightly.

Logan had stood as well, letting Virgil come to him. “Logan Rose. A pleasure.” He said politely, extending his own hand. Vigil accepted it and the group started to settle in.

“You know, Virgil, I think I have the same second period as you!” Patton slipped in as they started taking their seats.

Virgil seemed to think for a brief second. “Oh, I guess so. I guess nice to re-meet you, then.” He slowly took off his hood and faced Patton who was seated across from him. “Sorry I didn’t recognize you, I tend to not pay attention to stuff like that.”

“It’s fine! I think it’s great we have a class together! It means less boring moments in the day!”

Logan was staring at Virgil and he started speaking. “You know, You look familiar to me as well...Do we not share a fifth class together? Ap English in Mr. Evan’s class, if I am correct?”

Virgil blinked. “Uh...Yeah...So I guess I have a class with each of you then...What are the odds?” Virgil gave a small laugh.

“Infinitesimal.” Logan replied before biting into his sandwich.

“Oh speaking of which, do you remember what was taught yesterday? I was trying to do my homework and sort of forgot what he’d said…”

“I remember absolutely nothing but I do remember he was wearing a pink shirt with a green belt and was disgusted, I mean I may not be one for fashion, but even I know that was a horrific choice.”

The table erupted into several different kinds of laughter. A loud booming one from Patton, a softer but clear one provided by Roman, and a light chuckle emitted by Virgil.

Lunch wore on and It seemed like Virgil really connected with everyone.

He was in a brighter mood for the rest of the day as he walked off with Logan, discussing fan theories about doctor who and Sherlock, and then happier still when he met up with Roman in the theater and got to have his older brother teach him for what seemed like the first actual time.

And as Virgil bid his farewells, Roman called out to him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Virge!!” He yelled across the courtyard, waving happily at his new friend.

“Cya!!” Virgil called back, feeling happy and warm inside.

Virgil had never even had friends before, and for some reason, having only just met them a few hours ago, felt like these friends were ones that were going to last. He felt so right when he was with them. It felt so right when he would hear Logan talking about one subject or another, or when Patton made a dad joke or pun, or when Roman did something charmingly stupid or funny. It felt right being with them.

And for someone who’s never felt right in their life, Virgil felt as though it was all too much to actually be real.

But for once, He didn't worry about that.

Author’s note:

Oh wow! Would you look at that! I’m way early!! I legit thought I wasn’t going to get this done in time because I stopped writing for like two days cause one: I wanted to write a special valentines day mini fic (Link here!) and then two: I was away from my computer and had very tiny motivation. Anyway I hope you guys appreciate my earliness, and note that this probably won’t happen too often. Stay fresh and minty my lovelies!!

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440mxs-wife · 4 years

Text

A Game of Cards

Imagine: A late-night card game plus beer and tequila turns interesting. Then there's the aftermath the next day.

One night, you were up late playing cards with Sam and Dean. Played a little poker, some blackjack. If the pile of chips you had in front of you represented any real money, you would've taken the boys for about $400.00. Around midnight, Sam decided he'd had enough and went to bed. "Goodnight, you two," he called.

You began to absently shuffle the cards. You didn't want to go to bed quite yet, but you didn't want to stay up alone. "So, whatcha wanna do?" Dean asked.

"I dunno. I'm not tired, but don't feel like you have to stay up on my account," you answered.

Dean cast a sideways glance your way. "How about a game of....Truth or Dare Go-Fish?" he asked as he waggled his eyebrows.

"I've never heard of that version before," you laughed. "How do you play?"

"Well, standard Go-Fish rules, you know, make matches with what's in your hand. If you draw from the pile and get a match, you decide 'Truth or Dare'. If you get a match from drawing from your opponent, it's your opponent who decides 'Truth or Dare'," Dean finished.

"Hmm. Sounds interesting....and dangerous...." you mused.

"Could be, depending on how you look at it. Are you in?" Dean challenged. "Yes...." you said.

First couple of games were pretty tame. Lots of silly truth questions, but they helped you and Dean to find out even more about each other.

By the fourth game, you had broken out the beer and tequila and you two started getting a little silly. "Do you have any....4's?" you asked. "Here you go," Dean said as he handed over the card.

"Okay, Dean. Truth or Dare?" you asked. Dean paused. "Dare," he said with a gleam in his eye.

You leaned back in your chair, your arm slung over the back. "Well, now. I think things just got interesting," you said. "What do you suggest?" you asked.

"I dare you....to kiss me," he said with a satisfying smirk on his face.

You slowly rose from your chair and walked over to him. You knelt in front of him and stared straight into his flashing green eyes. You put your arms around his neck and pulled him closer until your lips were almost touching. "You ready?" you asked breathlessly. Dean nodded slowly. At the last second, you pulled back a little, stood up and kissed his forehead. You started walking to your room and with a backwards glance said, "Goodnight, Dean."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute," Dean called out as he caught your hand.

"What?" you said innocently. "You dared me to kiss you, and I did. You never said where the kiss had to be," you teased as he reluctantly released your hand. "Goodnight, Dean. Sweet dreams," you said with a wink. Dean put his head in his hands and let out an exasperated and frustrated groan.

Back in your room, it was all you could do to calm your hammering heart. You took several deep breaths, trying to get back under control. He dared you to kiss him! Whoa, girl, you said to yourself. Had to be the beer and tequila. Yeah, that's it. No way he would've asked you to do that if he'd been sober. Stupid little card game. Never mind the fact that you wanted to see what it would feel like to have his lips on yours....Could he have wanted you to kiss him as much as you wanted him to kiss you? He did seem a little frustrated that you just kissed him on the forehead....You yawned. Sleep now, more thinking tomorrow.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam joined Dean at the breakfast table, where he was munching on some peanut butter toast. "So, how late did you two stay up last night?" Sam asked.

"Not too late, maybe another couple of hours after you crashed," Dean answered.

"What'd you do?" asked Sam.

"Oh, played a new card game," he said. "We played Truth or Dare Go-Fish," and he explained the rules. "It got a little more interesting when we got out the beer and tequila..." Dean said.

"Really...." Sam grinned. "Do tell."

"Well, for starters, I dared her to kiss me," Dean explained. "And she did....on my forehead."

"Wow. Hot," Sam teased.

"Shut up, Sam," he retorted.

"Whatever made you give her that kind of a dare?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged, "I don't know, seemed like a good idea at the time. Besides, we were drinking. I can't be held responsible for what happens while I'm drinking."

Dean looked up just in time to see you enter the room. "Good morning," he said, cringing.

"Good morning, Dean," you mumbled, heading to the kitchen for some coffee.

"Way to go, bro," Sam mumbled.

Crap, Dean said to himself. He followed you to the kitchen and placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Yes, Dean?" you answered.

"About last night..." he started.

You held up your hand to stop him. "No need to explain, it was just a silly game. No harm, no foul," you explained. "If you'll excuse me, I need to shower before I do anything today," you said as you turned to leave.

Dean caught your hand and tried to draw you closer, but you resisted. "Please, Dean, let's not complicate things. You saw a chance, and you took it. Besides, we were drinking and shouldn't be held responsible for what happens." You pulled your hand free and headed to the shower.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Once in the shower, you let the water wash away the hot tears of frustration. Well, scratch that off the list. Now you knew for sure that he didn't mean anything by daring you to kiss him. Dean just wanted to see whether you would follow through or not.

You stepped out of the shower and wrapped one towel around your head and one around your body. After you dried off, you pulled on your favorite pair of faded blue jeans, a black T-shirt and your red flannel shirt. You ran some gel through your hair, grabbed a pair of work boots and you were good to go.

In the library, you fired up your laptop and started searching for a case. You had to get your mind off of what happened last night and this morning. If you were ever going to stay alive as a hunter, you had to concentrate.

"Find anything interesting?" Sam asked as he set down a glass of iced tea for you.

"Nothing yet," you answered, eyes still on your laptop.

"So, about Dean..." Sam started.

You held up your hand. "Sam, please don't. I've made my peace with it and moved on. News flash: Dean doesn't feel 'that way' about me. Don't know what would ever make me think otherwise," you muttered as you rose from your chair. "I'm headed to town to pick up a few things for lunch, maybe some sandwiches. Do you need anything?" you asked.

"Nah, but I'll go with you if you want," offered Sam.

You shook your head. "I think the drive will do me some good, clear out the cobwebs," you said, hoping you were convincing enough for him.

Sam was skeptical. "Okay, see you later," he called out as you headed for the garage.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You drove down the highway in your '68 Ruby Red Dodge Charger, blasting out some Aerosmith tunes. This is what I needed, you thought. Something to clear my head while I make sense of what's happened in the past 24 hours with Dean. Guess I'll have to accept the fact that he doesn't feel the same. At least I got out before my heart got too broken. We still have a job to do, saving people and hunting things. I can do this, just focus on the job and not on Dean. Yeah. Right, you thought as your vision started to get blurry with unshed tears.

Up ahead, you saw a truck barreling down the road in your lane. You slammed on the brakes and tried to swerve, but it was too late to avoid the impact. Your head slammed into the steering wheel and you could feel the car spinning around. You tried to keep your eyes open, but it was getting more difficult with each passing moment. Soon, the darkness won out and you fell unconscious.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean came into the library and asked Sam if he'd seen you lately. Sam asked Dean why he was looking for you. "I need to talk to her about something, and I haven't seen her since she left the table to take her shower. Not that I'm her favorite person right now," he muttered.

"Since when are you concerned with--wait a minute," Sam started. "You like her, don't you??" he asked.

Dean thought for a minute before answering, but found that all he could do is nod his head.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. "Finally," he remarked mostly to himself. "She said she was going to town for a few things and would bring back some sandwiches for lunch," Sam paused and checked his watch. "I would've thought she'd be back by now, though."

Dean was getting ready to call you, while Sam went back to plunking away on his laptop. Suddenly they heard a whoosh of wings and Castiel appeared and asked where you were.

"All I know is that she took a drive into town for some stuff, said she needed to clear her head. Wait, why?" Sam asked, looking at Dean.

"I just had a vision that she's been in a terrible accident. A truck was coming towards her in the same lane and hit her car nearly head on," Cas replied.

Dean grabbed his keys and bolted up the stairs to the garage, with Sam close behind. "Cas, you gotta go to her, man," he pleaded. "Stay with her, heal her as best as you can. I-I can't lose her, man. Not before I've had a chance to tell her how I feel about her," his voice broke. Cas put a hand on Dean's shoulder and gave him a reassuring nod, then he was gone. "We'll meet her at the hospital, Sammy," Dean said as he jumped into the Impala.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean broke the speed limit the entire way to the hospital. Sam had seen him concerned about losing someone due to injury, having witnessed it firsthand when he was the injured one. This was different. You were different and Dean was scared of losing you. "Dean, she's going to be okay. She's strong, she's a fighter. She'll make it through this," Sam tried to assure him.

"This is my fault. If I had just told her....But, no, I had to do what I've always done--put up my walls and deny everything. Make it impossible for anyone as wonderful as her to get anywhere close to me. Now it could be too late, Sammy," said Dean.

"Listen, Dean. Cas is with her, he'll meet us at the hospital and we'll go from there. Let's just take it one step at a time, okay? She's tough, she's not going to give up," Sam replied. Dean pressed down harder on the accelerator in response.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam, Cas and Dean waited for what seemed like hours in those crappy chairs, drinking rotten coffee and leafing through outdated magazines. They wished that the doctor would come out and tell them something about how you were doing. Anything was better than nothing.

Dean wanted you to wake up, so he could tell you that he takes it all back about that night. It wasn't just the beer and tequila talking. He dared you to kiss him because he wanted to kiss you to find out what it felt like, but was too scared to admit it.

About three hours after they arrived at the hospital, the doctor came out to update them on your condition. The doctor said they could go back to your room and see you, but they were warned that you were still unconscious and likely could be for the next day or so.

Nothing could've prepared them for what they saw when they walked into your room. You went from being their tough little hunter capable of just about anything, to looking so frail and helpless. Your head was bandaged and there were cuts all over your arm, probably from the shattered window glass in the accident. It seemed like you had tubes were coming out of everywhere imaginable. Seeing you hurt like this only tore at Dean's heart even more.

Dean grabbed a chair and dragged it over to your bedside. He took your hand in his and held it to his cheek as a single tear slid down. "I'm so sorry, honey," he whispered, looking up to the ceiling.

"Sweetheart....if you can hear me....I have a confession to make, about that night we played Truth or Dare Go-Fish. It wasn't just the beer and tequila doing the talking. I'm so sorry, baby. I never meant to hurt you by saying that. I dared you to kiss me because....I wanted to kiss you to find out what it felt like. That, and....I'm in love with you."

He pressed his lips to your forehead, all the while keeping hold of your hand. Dean leaned on the edge of the bed with his left arm and rested his head on it. He traced circles on the back of your hand with his thumb as he closed his eyes and drifted off for some much-needed sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Beep....Beep....Beep....was the only thing you could hear, so you tried to open your eyes to figure out where the hell you were. When you first attempted to open your eyes, you were met with a blinding white light for your troubles. You tried again, more slowly this time, and you became vaguely aware of someone holding your hand. You looked down and saw Dean, fast asleep. You gently squeezed his hand and whispered, "Dean? Dean, please wake up," you croaked.

"Hey, sweetheart, you're awake! Sammy, wake up! She's awake!" Dean said as he launched a pillow at Sam.

"Whoa, what the hell, Dean?" Sam woke up but almost fell out of his chair in the process. He looked over and saw that you were awake. "Hey! Good to see you!" he exclaimed, scooting his chair closer to the bed.

At that moment, the doctor came in to check on your progress. "Ah, so nice to see you awake. My name is Dr. Carson. You gave us all quite a scare for a while. These two haven't really left your room for much of anything since you got in here," he remarked.

"Yeah, doc, they're pretty stubborn, but I wouldn't have them any other way," you replied, smiling, still holding Dean's hand.

"Well, you should be able to get discharged in a couple of days or so. With that concussion, we can't take any chances," he warned.

"I understand. Thank you, Dr. Carson," you said as he left the room.

"Well, I'm going to see what the cafeteria has to offer," Sam declared, stretching in his chair. He pressed his lips to your forehead before leaving and closing the door behind him.

"Dean, you should know that I heard the things you said while I was out. It wasn't your fault, the accident, I mean. Cas told me it was a demon possessing the truck driver. As to the other stuff you said...." you trailed off.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Dean prompted.

"I am in love with you, too," you answered shyly. In one swift move, he stood and cupped your face in his hands, pulling you closer to him for one long, passionate kiss. "That's just for starters. Wait till I get you home," he whispered in your ear. You shivered at the mere suggestion of more and couldn't wait to get out of here.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the content. Some of this chapter contains partial excerpts from my first Wattpad offering, Small Town Hunter. If you want to see more, check out my page at wattpad.com/user/SPNHawkeye.

#deanxreader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #spn fluff #spn imagine #spn fanfiction #supernatural

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morethanithoughtofficialblog · 4 years

Note

Heya! If it isn’t to much to ask may I get some Sans x fem college professor reader (who is also working to become an orthopedic) Little details about the reader including big goofy glasses, slightly messy clothes, stays up at the latest of hours studying and doing school papers, sometimes falling asleep in the weirdest of places. How do you think they would met? How would they fall for each other and make each other better people? SORRY FOR THE BIG REQUEST BUT THIS IDEA JUST CAME TO ME!!

- Reader and he met when they were traveling in a public bus. Reader recently sold her car, and Sans didn’t have enough energy to teleport. Besides, Papyrus said that “HE SHOULD STOP TELEPORTING SO HE CAN MEET NEW PEOPLE”, so he gave it a shot.

- They were sitting together. Reader tended to be on her own, and Papyrus was busy at home cooking dinner, so they just sat there like the couple of strangers they were.

- Reader was... intrigued by how Sans was able to be so undamaged, him only being bones. As an orthopedy student, she was really conscious of how fragile bones are, so living with them without any protection whatsoever was something that caught her attention.

- Unconsciously, though, she stared at him for some solid five minutes. And Sans, being the sneaky observant skeleton he is, obviously made a comment about it.

- “hey bud, seeing something you like?”

- Monsters were freed only a couple of months ago, so he was still reluctant about humans.

- Reader, immediately, started to anxiously apologize, completely embarrassed at her action.

- Sans was the Underground’s Royal Judge for a reason. He knew that Reader wasn’t a bad person with only listening to her anxious apologies and paying attention to her goofy round glasses.

- She caught his attention, though, when she started to explain why she was staring at him like some creep. He never heard about orthopedy before, so it was his time to be intrigued.

- And when Reader explained what it was, well... he decided to break the tension with a lot of skeleton puns. Nothing unexpected, to be honest:

- “do you know why i decided to stop being a skull-pturist? because my heart wasn’t on it”

- “why are skeletons so calm? because nothing gets under our skin”

- “i would have dropped medical school by now. i don’t have the stomach for it”

- Reader thought it was simply hilarious that a skeleton would make skeleton puns. I mean, it’s not like a human makes human puns. You need to have a sense of humor to make puns out of yourself.

- She has a rough life. She has to pay for her apartment, teach in college, study, and overdose on coffee every day. The fact that a skeleton punned about himself made her day.

- Sans, as well, enjoyed the giggles he obtained from his puns. The presence of Reader also made him forget that he was on a public bus with a bunch of people around judging him. It was nice for once to meet a human different from the rest.

- What was usually a long trip for her turned into a new friendship.

- They exchanged numbers seconds before she had to go. What could go wrong?

- They started to chat for hours every single day. Sometimes Sans would just spam a thousand puns, but when the conversation was a bit more serious... she just felt more determined to keep doing what she was doing.

- She was alone without anyone telling her that she was doing a great job until Sans came to her life. Now she had a reason to wake up every morning and not give up on her studies, even though she was still short in money.

- Her students, as well, noticed her change of attitude. She seemed more passionate about her class and unconsciously made a few puns now and then.

- Sans, as well, seemed affected by meeting her. He started to genuinely smile again, wake up earlier and stayed an unhealthy amount of time on his phone. But since he has no physical eyes, well, it didn’t harm him.

- One day, both decided to make some space on their agenda and go for some coffee. This, quickly, became a weekly routine.

- They even spent their days in different places after some weeks. The theatre, some bowling, maybe billiard, or even just taking a walk inside the city’s mall... what made their meetings so enjoyable was the presence of the other.

- Meeting so often, however, made Sans realize how many bad habits she has; she orders more than ten cups of coffee, tends to forget where her glasses are (even if she is wearing them), and one day almost fell asleep on a short trip through the electric stairs.

- Sans isn’t precisely the best example of self-care, but he was worried about her... even if he didn’t admit it at first.

- He is not tsundere, no, but it’s just hard for him to accept any new feelings. He usually knows how he is feeling all the time, so any new thing in his life made him go through something similar to the seven stages of grief. (people commonly know five, but the creator of this added two more)

- The first stage is shock. He thought he knew himself pretty well to be honest, so this caught him off guard and had him thinking several nights.

- The second stage is denial. He denied that he felt any extravagant thing for her, even though he started to spend nights thinking about her silly glasses or her cute snort, became more eager to see her, and started to worry a lot.

- The third one is anger. He never snapped at her or Papyrus, because he mostly kept that anger to himself. He was so angry that he was so stupid about this; he was in love with a human? That’s absurd! Besides, it’s not like she will like him back... right?

- The fourth stage is bargaining. He started to talk with himself a lot. He negotiated to the point that he decided to stop drinking ketchup until he was able to get through this. He didn’t last long, though.

- The fifth one, unfortunately, is depression. And Sans wasn’t very happy before, either, so this made it worse. Whenever they met was the only time he felt completely happy. Without her, he thought everything was pointless. He stopped genuinely smiling again.

- The sixth stage came in time, and it’s testing. He started to cope with this feeling in a more realistic way, talking with Papyrus about the manner. His brother was happy that he felt so whole around this human, but also sad that Sans didn’t say anything about it.

- And finally, acceptance. He learned to accept that he, indeed, was madly in love with the Reader, And soon after he did, he took the courage to say it.

- They met as usual, only that he invited her to a restaurant more fancy than usual.

- None of them understood whatever the fuck the other people were ordering, but it wasn’t necessary to do so.

- “so, uh, y’ know...” he started the conversation after ordering that fancy thing on the menu that sounded more rational “we’ve been, uh, hanging out for some time, and... i dunno. i guess i just really enjoy your presence”

- “I enjoy your presence, too” She smiled. “I’m glad to hear you haven’t grown tired of me yet haha”

- “...why would i get tired of you?”

- “I don’t know, it’s just... I’m not a special person, that’s all”

- That’s when it clicked to him. He was so busy with his insecurities that he totally forgot that she had a lot of fears as well.

- “...you are great” He simply said. “i dunno how you don’t see that in you, but i do. and i just want you to know that i... uh-”

- “Hmm?”

- “i love you. and a lot, actually”

- “...and I love you, too... I’m even surprised of how it wasn’t obvious for you”

- The restaurant didn’t matter anymore. He was glad he said it and happy she felt the same. And he didn’t know, but she was really relieved that he made the first move, or else she would have hidden her feelings forever.

- They started to meet up even more often. He invited her to his house, she went to see him after work... their relationship was nice and calm, without anything or anyone interfering.

- That, until she lost the apartment.

- She became so angry at herself that she was beginning to have these self-hate thoughts. She actually was going to cut herself one day... but Sans stopped her before she could do something.

- When he knew what happened, the only thing he could do was offer her his house.

- She reluctantly took the offer, saying that it would be temporary.

- It wasn’t temporary.

- The mornings involved a breakfast done by Papyrus, in the evening everyone was doing their own thing, and almost every night was movie night.

- They also did karaoke nights on Saturdays.

- Reader started to feel happier than she has ever done on her life. Her heartfelt weird whenever Sans started hugging her, when Papyrus told her a compliment, or when both of them looked so excited playing some nerdy board game.

- She, then, anxiously asked them if she could stay. Even offered to pay a part of the rent.

- Both skeletons immediately hugged her. After that, Papyrus went to the extra hidden room they had to clean it, and Sans started to buy things for her room.

- It was lovely and done according to her hobbies. Mostly nerdy stuff.

- After some months, however, she started to sleep with Sans. They only hugged though.

- No matter how quirky they were, she just felt so complete there. More than she had ever done.

- And as long as she was happy, Sans was happy.

- That’s all that matters to them.

#sans #sans x reader #sans x fem college professor reader #sans x fem reader #i got a bit too inspired out of this #also sorry about posting a day later #i literally passed out after not sleeping for three days #asks #anon #undertale sans

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ilikecowsnstuff · 4 years

Text

CHAPTER 17!!!

SUMMARY: UA Hero Course - Third Year. Shigaraki Tomura and Dabi have been classmates and rivals since their very first day at UA. But with new feelings developing how will they cope given their history of fragile and often violent encounters? Their dance begins after a partnered training exam goes wrong, leaving Shigaraki wounded and Dabi feeling guilty. AU.

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - SUMMER IS COMING

“Shigaraki?” Dabi called gently for what seemed like the hundredth time. “Hey. Mop Head! You in there?” He teased, waving a hand in front of Shigaraki’s face. When his boyfriend blinked back into reality, Dabi chuckled and shook his head slightly. The lighter haired boy tipped his head to look at him, clearly irritated.

“What?”

“You were a mile away.”

“Was I?”

“Yep.” Dabi snorted a laugh and then leaned in to smack a kiss against his boyfriend’s turned cheek, relishing in the responding dissent that his affections caused before he sat back in his chair with a self-contented smirk.

Shigaraki grumbled and shifted his gaze back to his extra-large, extra-spicy bowl of ramen. He slurped up some noodles and followed them with a huge gulp of broth.

“Is he always like this?” Dabi asked, looking across the table at Kurogiri and Kai. Shigaraki seemed more interested in eating than having a conversation with his friends. Was that normal or was sharing the table with Dabi, and his crew, throwing him off?

“Pretty much.” Kurogiri replied with a shrug. Kai agreed, nodding his head without looking up from his phone.

“Food is important. Got it.” Dabi affirmed.

Before they had started dating, he and Shigaraki never did have lunch together, but now, their two groups of friends had joined in a somewhat awkward sociability - thanks to their relationship - and had decided to sit together during the break period after a week of awkward shuffling back and forth. Minus Takami who still refused to share a table with Shigaraki. Which was probably for the best. Dabi almost felt bad for his best friend. Almost.

“You know I can hear you, right?” Shigaraki interjected, sniffling.

A series of snorts and chuckles filtered around the table. Shigaraki’s cheeks flooded with heat, partly from the attention and the other part from the steam coming off his hot noodles. He jerked his chin down. Disconcerted.

“So, what are your plans for Summer break?” Dabi asked, repeating the question he had asked earlier. The question that had gone unanswered. He casually draped his arm across the back of Shigaraki’s chair and moved in closer so he wouldn’t be ignored this time.

“I dunno. I guess, just working.” Shigaraki said, picking at the remnants of his food.

“Working?” Dabi questioned, his brow raised. “Where at?”

“At the Fourth Kind Agency. I need the extra cash.”

“You're working all Summer break?”

“Yeah.” Shigaraki finally set his chopsticks down, having finished his lunch. “Why? What are you doing?”

“I told you already. Family shit. We always go away for Summer break.” He moved in a little closer, his voice dropping lower. “But I want to see you.”

“Oh, and i’m sure Endeavour will be just fine with you leaving the annual Todoroki Summer Vacation to visit me.” Shigaraki replied sarcastically, earning him some laughs from the others at the table.

“Heh.” Dabi grinned, “I don’t really care what he thinks.”

“You say that now.” The corner of Shigaraki’s mouth curled up into a grin.

“Don’t you want to see me?” Dabi asked and he leaned all the way in, stealing a kiss from his startled boyfriend's mouth while the opportunity presented itself.

Shigaraki gasped and immediately revolted, pushing him away. “Dabi!”

“Yes?” Dabi grinned and dropped his arm from the back of Shigaraki’s chair, his arm sneaking to Shigaraki’s waist.

Around them, students began to whisper. There were chuckles and some whistling. Shigaraki was sure he even heard one jerk yell out, “get a room”. Dabi quickly shut them up, telling them where they could stick it to pacify his very uncomfortable boyfriend, but still refused to move back.

Shigaraki scowled.

“So, don’t you want to see me too?”

“That’s a given.” Shigaraki grumbled, squirming in his chair and trying to dislodge Dabi’s insolent arm.

“So, yes?”

“Yes, Dabi.” Shigaraki rolled his eyes.

“Mm. Good.” Dabi’s fingers swept the small of Shigaraki’s back through his UA Blazer, “What about your family?”

Shigaraki abruptly looked over at Dabi, for the moment forgetting about the disagreeable groping, and he furrowed his brow. “What about them?”

“You don’t have to visit them?”

Shigaraki’s mouth settled into a hard line. “No.”

“You don’t want to see your parents?”

Shigaraki sighed and scratched frantically at his neck. From across the table, Kurogiri, who neither of the boys thought was listening in to their conversation, sat up straight and leveled a stern gaze at Dabi. “Change the subject.” He whispered in quiet warning.

“Excuse me?” Dabi’s head tilted slightly to the side. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was just asking him a question.”

“And I'm telling you to leave it.”

“Leave what exactly?” Dabi contended, unsure what Kurogiri was referring too and taken aback by the suggested threat.

“Hey.” Kai piped in, grabbing Kurogiri’s forearm and preventing him from getting up. “Calm down.”

“Yeah, Mist boy. Something got your panties in a twist?” Came an impish voice from beside Dabi. It was Toga, ready to stand up for her friend too.

“Toga. Don’t. It’s cool. We’re cool. Right?”

Dabi really didn’t understand what had happened. He was just making idle conversation and showing an active interest in his boyfriend’s life outside of school. How had it turned so sour so suddenly?

Admittedly, he really didn’t know all that much about Shigaraki - what his family was like, where he grew up, or something as simple as what his favorite color was. Though, on the latter he was sure if he guessed black he would be right. And it was only recently that he had discovered what Shigaraki’s favorite food was. That... was it. They had been classmates for almost three years and Dabi hadn’t learned a single personal thing about his previously aloof boyfriend. Of course, he had had no right to ask those kinds of intimate questions before - they were never really friends. But now? They were in a relationship and he wanted to know everything about Shigaraki Tomura.

So, what was the big deal with asking? He would only find these things out if he asked the right questions.

After a moment of awkward silence and antagonistic staring, Shigaraki finally spoke up, alleviating some of the tension between his best friend and boyfriend.

“Cut it out. You are both idiots.”

Dabi dragged his intense blue gaze away from the other side of the table, settling his eyes on Shigaraki, and everyone calmed down once again, returning to their food or their phones or their previous conversations. Fight averted.

He turned in place to face Shigaraki, his voice lowering so the words would be kept between them. “Did I say something wrong?” He asked, one brow raised.

“No.”

Dabi searched Shigaraki’s face and then lifted a hand to the side of his face, thumb stroking the high point of Shigaraki’s cheek.

“What was that about then?”

Shigaraki didn’t answer right away. He only stared at Dabi, contemplating his response. He didn’t like to talk about his family or lack thereof. It wasn’t worth the breath, but maybe Dabi deserved to know now that they were dating. He was bound to find out eventually, Shigaraki just didn’t think it would be so soon, or in the cafeteria at school during a lunch break.

“If there’s… anything that bothers you, or if something I say upsets you, don’t keep it to yourself. You can talk to me.” He grinned reassuringly and brushed a light lock of hair away from Shigaraki’s eyes. Shigaraki knew who his parents were, and Dabi had told him about all his… scars, now he wanted to know about Shigaraki’s.

“Your parents, who are they?”

“I don’t know.” Shigaraki shrugged his shoulders like he was brushing it off as no big deal and tore his eyes away from Dabi. “I don’t have any.”

Dabi’s brows popped up in surprise. That was not the answer he was expecting. He thought for sure Shigaraki was going to say they were on the wrong side of the law, or that he just didn’t get along with them or something - but not this. What did he say now? How should he reply or react? This was an extraordinary situation.

“I know you want to ask.” Shigaraki added, noticing Dabi’s bewilderment. “But you don’t need to. There isn’t much to say.” He shrugged his shoulders again, “My birth parents abandoned me, apparently after I developed my quirk. I don’t remember them, I don’t remember their names. I don’t even know if any of that is true. But it was what I was told, and I accepted it.”

“Okay.” Dabi swallowed and pressed his closed fist against his mouth, like he was considering Shigaraki’s words and trying to keep his mouth shut while he did so. And mostly so he wouldn’t say anything stupid on insensitive. “That is a lot to process.”

‘It’s not, really.” Shigaraki shook his head.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Who told you that?”

“What?”

“That your parents abandoned you.”

Shigaraki’s mouth again settled into a hard line. “I dunno. I don’t remember. Someone at the orphanage. Most likely several different people. I knew I was too much for them. For anyone. So, I believed it.”

“Where did you grow up then? Who raised you? There had to be someone…” Dabi said in a rush, a million questions running through his head, until Shigaraki stopped him.

“Nah. Adoption never seemed like an option. They tried, i’m sure but it didn’t work out. I lived in that orphanage until I started at UA High. Then, when I turned sixteen, they were no longer responsible for me. I was on my own.”

Dabi opened his mouth to say something but words did not come out.

“That’s it. That’s my story, and pretty much all you need to know about me. And you don’t need to say anything. I don’t need any pity bullshit. I came to terms with… everything a long time ago. I’ve accepted what and who I am.”

With a little hesitation, Dabi reached out and slid his arms carefully around Shigaraki’s waist. He knew Shigaraki was opposed to PDA but he needed to hold his boyfriend, so Shigaraki knew that he was there. Really there. And that he wasn’t alone.

“Don’t you want to know for sure?”

“About what?”

“Your parents. What really happened.”

“No. Why should I care?”

Dabi’s hands curled to caress Shigaraki’s back and he found himself moving closer. Soon enough, they fell together into a tight embrace. Well, it was tight on Dabi’s side. Shigaraki’s shoulders immediately tensed up at the hugging, but he didn’t pull away

“You know, I was always told I was never enough.” Dabi whispered right by Shigaraki's ear, “But they are wrong. And they are wrong about you too.”

“Are they?”

“Yes.” Dabi brushed a kiss against Shigaraki’s temple. “You are not too much. And I am enough. We don’t have to live up to anyone else’s expectations.”

Shit. Shigaraki blinked slowly and his heart thumped loudly inside his chest. What was this? This feeling. This feeling of falling? In just a few simple words Dabi had given him something no one else had ever managed to give - a little bit of hope and a whole lot of reassurance. It didn’t take away years of self-doubt and self-loathing, but it sure did help to know he wasn’t alone in the way he felt.

Dabi never failed to surprise him.

Shigaraki’s brow furrowed and his eyes fell hard, closing as he buried his face against his boyfriend’s shoulder, surrendering to the hug and, for once, finding some comfort in it.

“So, Endeavour really is an asshole, huh?” Shigaraki finally muttered to break the seriousness and the silence between them.

Dabi chuckled. “Yeah. He is.”

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Chapter One – Accidental Attraction

Chapter Two – After Care

Chapter Three – Dazed and Confused

Chapter Four – I Like You

Chapter Five - Friends and Enemies

Chapter Six - Confrontation!

Chapter Seven - Transfer Student

Chapter Eight - A Period of Learning

Chapter Nine - Work and Play

Chapter Ten - Friday

Chapter Eleven - Extraordinary Day

Chapter Twelve - The Problem with Relationships.

Chapter Thirteen - Will You Go Out With Me?

Chapter Fourteen - A Not So Innocent Birthday Request

Chapter Fifteen - The Morning After

Chapter Sixteen - His First

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hphm-etched-engraved-everlasting · 4 years

Text

8. Em

Author’s Note/Table of Contents

Barnaby Lee was no stranger to me--especially since he's described so often now as Clara's sweetheart.

I mean, that was the most I could call him, right? I wasn't sure if he and Clara were really a confirmed couple, but I did know that they were fond of each other either way, the way his eyes always lit up whenever he told me about her and vice versa. Interacting with Slytherins before him made me put my guard up more than I'd like, but being friends with Hillary really showed that not all Slytherins were that bad after all. He had a kind heart, and he always came by with sweets--a good sign that he cared so much about me because he cared a lot about her.

At least to me, he's a good friend. That's enough for me.

And speaking of my sister...well, she turned into a blushing mess the minute we stepped onto the Training Grounds, walking right over to where Barnaby and Badeea were painting on big square canvases sitting atop their easels. I could see her face turn crimson as we approached them, and I had to drag her over to them with my hand firm over her wrist.

I suppose she had it really hard for him after all.

"Hey, Clara!" he greeted her with a wave. "Hey, Em!"

He stepped aside then to reveal his canvas, where a single Bowtruckle was standing in the middle of some blue and white space on the canvas, a huge smile on its face. I almost cooed in awe at the sight of it--I had always wanted to see a real Bowtruckle, and to see that it looked this cute really made me smile. But Clara looked like she was actually going to cry.

That was when I remembered that in her fourth year, she named a Bowtruckle after our brother, Jacob, and had felt fiercely protective of it after relocating him in the Forbidden Forest last year while studying for her OWLs.

"So, what do you think of my painting?" he asked us, a big cheeky grin on his face.

"It's...really cute," I offered, nodding thoughtfully before looking up at my sister.

"It's...special," Clara responded then, wiping away the tears that began to trickle down her face. "I mean, you painted a Bowtruckle..."

"Not just any Bowtruckle. It's Jacob the Bowtruckle!" Barnaby said enthusiastically. "I guess I got inspired from our OWLs study session last year, and he reminded me of how you helped me believe in myself." He reached over and gently wiped her tears with his thumbs, coaxing a smile out of my sister. "Hope you didn't mind, of course. You've become my muse more often nowadays."

Oh. Well. That was definitely what they meant by "sweetheart."

"I can't tell if you meant it's good or bad, Clara," Badeea finally said after a moment's silence, looking at the two of them quizzically as if trying to find the right time to break the ice.

"Exactly!" Barnaby responded. "That's what makes art so mysterious."

I simply glanced over from Barnaby's simple Bowtruckle painting to Badeea's nighttime shot of Hogsmeade--probably a little something to get her own creative juices flowing. I understood how much of a block she's had nowadays. "I wish I got a chance to appreciate art more," I murmured. "Never thought of it much after Beatrice got trapped in a portrait last year."

"I never thought you were still giving painting lessons to Barnaby, Badeea," Clara piped up, wiping her glasses now with the hem of her dress.

"Oh, of course. We just started again," Badeea explained. "Barnaby has big plans."

At that, Barnaby turned to us with a proud smile on his face. "Yeah! Over the summer, I learned what a 'Renaissance Man' is. It means knowing only a little bit about a lot of things."

It wasn't that far off the mark, I figured. The Renaissance people were all about embracing Enlightenment, and revolutionizing the culture of people through the arts and other things. I figured anyone with a Renaissance mind would want to have many talents. If Barnaby's aspiring to become one of them, I hope he succeeds.

"Where did you get that definition from?" I asked him with a knowing smile. "It sounds pretty accurate."

"Hm? I dunno, actually. Can't remember," Barnaby replied with a small frown, his face scrunched up in confusion. "I'm sure it must have been from somewhere...but anyway, I decided that I want to become a Renaissance Wizard."

I guess I could see now why Clara loved Barnaby so much. He had the ambition of a Slytherin, but he also had a huge heart and open mind. Of course, he wasn't always like this when they first started their friendship, but seeing them now made me nod and smile. I wasn't always a huge fan of romance, but this was like seeing a beautiful rose blossom before my eyes--something that isn't so cringey and gross. They were just being themselves around each other, and I could see the close bond they had, the way they interacted and smiled at each other in a touching way.

"Sounds ambitious," Clara finally remarked with an approving grin of her own, nodding and taking his hand. "I look forward to seeing how it turns out."

Barnaby nodded and kissed her on the cheek, which made her turn a brilliant shade of pink.

"Thanks, Clara."

I glanced over at Badeea now, who was trying so hard not to burst into giggles. I could relate. They were definitely sweethearts.

"So, what did you want to see me about?" Barnaby asked her then, swinging their linked hands slightly, to and fro.

"Actually, I need some advice about Ismelda," Clara ventured tentatively, her face now turning pale.

Andre warned me back in the courtyard that Ismelda was not one to mess with. Sure, he helped her confess her feelings to Barnaby, but that didn't mean he was okay with actually hanging around with her after the air was cleared. I couldn't imagine how a girl with morbid thoughts about blood and gore would want to hang out with someone who appreciated everything that lives. Of course, I didn't hear everything between Clara, Beatrice, and Ismelda back in the courtyard, but I could sense the tension between all three of them and know just how charged anyone would be if the names of those who brought them sheer discomfort was brought up in a conversation at all.

But Barnaby didn't flinch at all. Instead, he just frowned.

"She doesn't have a crush on me again, does she?" he asked her. "My schedule's quite packed with Renaissance Wizard activities. And making sure your sister's doing fine. And...well..."

"Yeah. I know. But no, she doesn't," Clara confirmed.

"I figured. We haven't been all that friendly in years."

"So...you won't give us advice?" I asked him. "I mean, if you haven't talked with Ismelda recently then we can try to talk with Merula. Even if she's been...guarded."

"No, of course I will," Barnaby promised. "But you'll have to duel me for it."

Duelling? I had no experience with duelling, let alone combative magic and spells. I turned to Clara now, who blanched even more at the prospect of raising her wand for another fight.

"Duel you for advice?" she asked meekly. "Why?"

"A Renaissance Wizard can't just stop at painting lessons," Barnaby explained. "I could use some duelling lessons, too."

"Diego gives duelling lessons," I chipped in then. "He's actually pretty powerful if I say so myself. One day he gave this Ravenclaw first-year girl a good Bat-Bogey Hex when she wouldn't shut up about the flowers in my hair."

And it wasn't a habit I always kept--I only wore tiny little sunflower clips in my hair that day because it was so sunny outside I had to match it. Apparently, some of us didn't appreciate it. I was only lucky that Diego was close by when the teasing happened, and he made her run and scream once it was all over. It was then when he said he wanted to protect me from anyone who tried to hurt me.

"True. I've seen it myself," Barnaby agreed. "But Clara was the one who duelled a Troll and a Dragon."

"Barnaby!" Badeea jumped in shock at that. "I'm sure those aren't exactly good memories for Clara. She was doing what had to be done to break the Portrait Curse."

Barnaby's face paled when Badeea told him, and he sighed, squeezing my sister's hand. "I'm sorry, Clara. We all know what you've been through."

"And little Em," Badeea reminded him. "It must be hard to imagine what her two older siblings had to go through here."

Clara nodded, glancing at me and Badeea. "Yeah, but if anything positive can come out of something negative..." She trailed off, smiling at me, and I knew what she meant. With another danger out of the way, even if I wasn't completely safe, she'd be well assured that my first year at Hogwarts would be as normal as it could get.

"Sounds like I could be getting my duelling lesson...?" Barnaby asked her, an eager grin on his face.

"All right," Clara eventually agreed. "Let's duel."

Badeea quickly brought me away from the two as they took their positions, bowing to each other before going into their ready stance. With their wands drawn, I couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated. I never saw Clara looking this bold before--not while I witnessed her with red puffy eyes and slouched frame that curled into a fetal position more than once over the summer. Then again, there was a lot to my sister that I know nothing about. She shared a stronger bond with Jacob when we were younger, after all.

When Jacob first went missing, all my parents could say was that he was taking a trip with his friends, and that he would be back soon. As the years went by, though, the image of Jacob--whatever impression he first left in my naive toddler mind--faded away from my memory. He never returned from whatever trip he took, and it lead to my parents fighting more than I was used to. My mother was badly humiliated, my father embarrassed and angry.

His gardens almost withered from the withdrawal of life that everyone felt. Her books were taken off the shelves of Flourish and Blotts to save her from the horrible reviews critics have given her.

And me? I could only do so much to help them calm down. I reminded them of the lie they told me. I tried to offer them the stuffed magical creatures I was gifted. But every day, they pulled more away from me, isolating themselves in a world where the family was forever deemed dysfunctional, incomplete, and practically irreparable. Only last summer did the truth come out, and from my older sister who saw him--probably for the last time.

Now I understood why Merula and Ben had changed so much from how Clara first saw them. The search for the Cursed Vaults had tested not only their individual abilities. They've tested the strength of their alliance with others, too--no one would dare enter the Cursed Vaults alone, after all. Rakepick chose her, Merula, and Bill Weasley as her apprentice curse-breakers for a reason.

No one imagined it would be for dragon bait.

I could see Clara cast her spells with so much force, almost like the night she was training with Merula. Barnaby still got a few chances to recover, but it was mostly Clara casting all the spells she needed. When it was finally over, she and Barnaby returned to us, Barnaby rubbing his eyes from where the handkerchief slapped him to finish off the duel.

"Wow. You sure schooled me, Clara," Barnaby remarked. "I feel I'm a better dueller already!"

"Indeed. You really are quite good, Clara," Badeea complimented with a smile.

Clara simply nodded, and I could see the steel melting from her eyes as she smiled back at the two of them. "Thank you both."

"So about Ismelda...what did you want to know?" Barnaby asked us then.

"Well, Ismelda's sort of taken Beatrice Haywood under her wing," Clara began.

"Ismelda and Penny's little sister?" Barnaby's eyes darted from me to Clara, over and over. "Odd pair."

"Beatrice had been a little lost since getting out of the painting, and her search ended up here," Clara explained. "And Penny's worried about Beatrice falling under the wrong influence. Ismelda can be rather jaded--but Ismelda is also being so protective of Beatrice that there's no getting by her."

"You must know something that can help, Barnaby," I piped up. "After all, you were with Ismelda when you and my sister first met."

"And Merula too," Barnaby recalled grimly.

"Don't get us started on Merula," Clara warned him. "She's reaching new levels of jaded."

Barnaby nodded thoughtfully, scratching his chin pensively. Then he looked up at Clara, and I thought I saw a glimmer of fondness in his eyes.

"Honestly, what helped me the most...was time with you," Barnaby stated. "I wanted friends. Everyone does. But the ones I first found were often bitter and cruel. So I often joined in, afraid to be left out--until you showed me I could have friends that didn't behave that way."

Something about Barnaby's words hit home for me. I wanted friends, too. Clara's often encouraging me to have a normal school year in her stead, with all the curse-breaking adventures she has going on. What if my flaw of being left out so much turns into a craving for company--even company with the worst folk? I just hoped Hillary wouldn't turn into a villain I had to look out for. For now, though, I could say Eunice and Travis were enough to deal with.

"So that's my best advice," Barnaby said eventually. "Spend time around Beatrice, whether Ismelda's around or not. Beatrice probably just wants to feel like she's part of something--soon she'll see that she has choices."

Beatrice didn't even have many friends to begin with, now that I thought about it. In a way, she must have had it worse than me. I looked up at Clara, who was looking at Badeea, the two of them exchanging surprised glances.

"That was so...wise," Badeea eventually managed to say.

"Rather touching, too," Clara added, her cheeks colouring a brilliant pink yet again.

"I think I can give it a go," I finally agreed. "Beatrice and I are in the same house, after all. If she could see me as a friend rather than just Penny's friend's sister, then maybe we could get somewhere with a new friendship."

Clara nodded. "You sure, though? You told me she--"

"Scared me a bit. She still does," I admitted. "But Barnaby's right. Reaching out to her might be the best option for us, and she and I are almost the same age, too. Maybe she'll understand."

Barnaby nodded at me then and smiled, handing me a Chocolate Frog box that he had in his pocket. "I hope it works out, little Em."

"And I'll head back to the Courtyard to see if Beatrice is still there," Clara offered. She smiled fondly at him before wrapping her arms around him. "Thank you, Barnaby. You just might be a Renaissance Wizard after all."

Once more, Badeea looked like she was going to dissolve in a fit of giggles, and I chuckled slightly at the sight of my sister in the arms of someone she loved and cherished.

I could truly see them being happy together. After all, they were each other's sweethearts. But would Clara still be this happy, with the possibility of a final curse still looming over the school?

#i cannot write fluff for the life of me #but this wasn't meant to be fluffy i guess #ehhhh #hphm #hogwarts mystery #hphm barnaby lee #hphm badeea ali #hphm clara lin #hphm em lin #etched engraved everlastin #year 6 spoilers #hphm spoilers #cursed vaults

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highfivecalum · 5 years

Text

Love and Communication {CH} 4

Previous Chapters: One Two Three

✧✧✧

The first words that came to Calum’s mind were what the fuck. Were his eyes deceiving him or was that actually Luke sitting at the round table with his two other best friends? He was stuck in place at the entrance of the bar he, Ashton, and Michael chose to go to. He looked around, trying to plan an escape. There was no way that Calum could sit with Luke all night after being at Lena’s house all day before that. He looked at his best friend and for the first time felt guilty about being with Lena.

But, fuck, she made him so happy. Happier than anybody else ever had and he wasn’t going to end things just because of Luke. He was just visiting. For how long? Calum didn’t know. But until he and Lena discussed their relationship, he wouldn’t tell Luke. He didn’t need to know - not now, anyway.

“Cal!” Ashton stood up and waved him over. Calum cursed under his breath and put a fake smile on his face. “Can you believe this mother fucker?” Ashton clapped Luke on the shoulder. “Just showed up to visit us out of nowhere.”

“‘S good to see you man,” Calum pulled Luke in for a hug and sighed. He missed Luke a lot, missed talking and seeing him, but his timing was fucking awful. “How you been?” They pulled away from their hug and sat down. Calum flagged down a bartender right away. He needed some booze if he was going to sit there and catch up with Luke.

Hours passed and after finishing off his fourth drink, Calum made his way to the bar to order another. It had cleared out some, leaving some space at the bar for him to sit down and relax a little bit. He needed to calm down and stop bouncing his fucking leg up and down nervously when he was talking to Luke. He had to play it cool so Luke wouldn’t suspect anything.

“Hey man,” Luke sat down in the seat next to Calum and ordered himself a drink. “Ash told me you ran into Lena. Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Oh, uh,” Calum nervously itched his jaw that was covered with stubble. “Well, you and I haven’t talked much lately, so I dunno. Didn’t want our first conversation to be about her, you know?”

Luke nodded his head and sipped his beer. “How’s she doing?”

“She, uh, she’s good. Yeah. She’s good.” Calum was audibly nervous and stuttering over his words and he prayed that Luke wouldn’t question him about it. The topic of Lena was not something he wanted to discuss, even though Luke didn’t know anything about what happened between the two of them.

“Good. I’m glad,” Luke smiled and cleared his throat. “So I’m thinking of movin’ back here.”

Calum almost choked on his beer. “Really? Why, uh, why’s that? Thought you loved California.”

“I did at first, but now I’m not so sure,” Luke sighed. “I fell off with you guys and made new friends that are changing me into something I’m not, you know? I drink too much, do drugs now, and I’m rarely ever sober. I just need to come back home. Get my shit together.”

“Yeah. I get it,” Calum didn’t get it. “If that’s what’s best for you then you should. We miss you here, man.”

“I think it’ll be great for me,” Luke grinned. “And I have an idea I wanna run by you, since you’re my closest friend. I want you to be honest with me.”

Closest friend, my ass, Calum thought. Calum was stabbing him in the back and even though Calum didn’t feel guilty about it before, seeing Luke in person and catching up with him had the guilt eating Calum alive. And now? Luke moving back? None of that would end well.

“What’s up?”

“I think I’m gonna try to get her back. Lena, I mean.” This time, Calum did choke on his beer. He coughed into his fist and shook his head as Luke continued talking, not even noticing Calum’s slip up. “She’s back and I’m coming back and I-I miss her, dude.”

“You, uh, you really think that’s a good idea?” Calum didn’t want to hurt Luke’s feelings, but he did ask for Calum’s honest opinion, so that’s what he was going to do. There’s no way in hell Lena would ever even think about getting back together with Luke. At least Calum hoped there wasn’t. “I mean, it’s been years, Luke. And you really hurt her, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Luke frowned. “But she was so in love with me, Cal. I think I have a chance.”

“I don’t think you do, Luke. It’s not like she’s been waiting around for you to come back. She- I’m pretty sure she’s moved on. She seemed really happy when I saw her and I don’t think you trying to win her back is a good idea.”

“Wait, you really think she’s moved on? Like completely?” When Calum nodded his head, Luke’s frown deepened. The fact that Luke thought that Lena was just sitting around waiting for him had Calum wanting to roll his eyes into the back of his head. “Is she- is she seein’ someone?”

“Oh, I, uh, I don’t know,” Calum stuttered again. She was seeing somebody. Him. But there was no way in hell Calum was going to tell Luke that. Not yet, at least. Of course, Luke was going to find out eventually, but he hoped not anytime soon. “But you showing up in her life again out of the blue isn’t good for her, Luke.”

“You’re really against me doing this?” Luke sounded offended, but he’s the one who asked for honesty.

“You asked me to be honest, so that’s what I’m doin’. You’ve already hurt her once before, Luke. You don’t need to do it again. Especially not now when she’s in such a good place.”

Luke didn’t say anything else, just got up and walked away, leaving Calum at the bar. Calum hoped that his honesty changed Luke’s mind about trying to get back together with Lena, and if it didn’t, well, Luke was going to find out about them the hard way.

✧✧✧

The knocking at Lena’s door is what forced her off of her couch. She wasn’t expecting anybody, so she figured it was just Skylar showing up unannounced, but when she saw Calum rocking back and forth on his heels and biting his lip nervously, she was worried. “Cal? What are you doing here? I thought you were out with the guys.”

Calum walked inside once Lena opened the door wider and started pacing back and forth. Running his hands through his hair and cursing under his breath, he was a nervous fucking wreck. “Luke is here. He’s back. He’s moving back, Lena.”

“Wait, what?” Lena approached Calum, taking his hands in hers to stop him from pacing. “He’s here?”

“He was just out with us at the bar. And he- he told me he’s moving back and that he’s-” Calum ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

“He’s what, Calum?”

“He told me he’s going to try to get you back. He-he wants you back and said he misses you.”

Calum sat down on the couch, legs parted and elbows resting on his knees while Lena stood in place stunned. She had always hoped Luke would come to his senses and want her back, try to win her back, but she never thought it would happen. And she didn’t want it to anymore. She didn’t want him anymore. She only wanted one person and that person was Calum.

“And I get if you want to.”

Lena furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and crossed the room to sit on the coffee table in front of him. She, once again, took his hands in hers and made her look at him. “Get if I want to what, bub?”

“Get back together with him.” Calum mumbled.

Lena swore she felt her heart break. Calum looked so nervous and upset and defeated. And it upset Lena that Calum would ever think she would go back to Luke after the hurt he put her through. And after what the two of them had already gone through; sleeping together and going out on dates. “Hey,” Lena took Calum’s face in her hands and looked in his eyes. “I don’t want to get back together with him, okay? I-I don’t want him anymore. I haven’t for a long time. I want you, Calum. You and only you.”

“But are you sure?” Calum shook his head and Lena’s hands fell by her sides. “I mean, you two were so in love once, you know? And- and how does that love just go away? I think that if you saw him again you would realize you still love him, Lena.”

“No I wouldn’t, Calum,” Lena’s voice was stern and laced with confidence and maybe even a little bit of aggravation. It was like he wasn’t listening to her. Like he didn’t believe her. “I know for a fact that I would not come to any realization about my feelings for him because I don’t have any anymore.”

“And how do you know that? How do you know you don’t love him anymore?”

“Because I love you!” Lena all but shouted. She slapped her hand over her mouth, in disbelief that she had confessed her love to Calum like that. They hadn’t been together long, barely any time at all, but it was true. She loved him. She always had, she thinks.

“What?” Calum whispered. He swore he was hearing things, swore he just hallucinated her words, but her wide eyes and red cheeks told him otherwise. He had been waiting for so fucking long to hear those words and now that he was finally hearing them, he almost couldn’t believe them.

“I-I’m sorry.” Lena shook her head in embarrassment. “I know you probably don’t love me, but I do love you, Calum. And I need you to believe that I’m not going anywhere. Especially not with Luke.” Lena swallowed the lump in her throat. “A-and if you’re freaked out now I get it. But I just- I need you to know that I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Calum’s lips were on Lena’s in a second and it took a second of surprise to reciprocate, but she did with as much passion she felt Calum was kissing her with. She ended up in his lap, her hands in his hair, and his hands sliding up the sides of her pajama shirt that was actually his from high school that she had stolen from him after he shrunk it in the drier. “I love you,” Calum mumbled against her lips. “God, I fucking love you. Always have.”

They moved from Lena’s couch to her bed and showed each other just how much they loved one another. Luke wasn’t in the back of their minds like he had been before. They weren’t worried about him and Calum wasn’t worried about losing Lena to Luke, because he knew now that she loved him back. Maybe not as much as he loved her, but there was still love there, so Luke didn’t matter. Nothing really mattered to them except each other.

✧✧✧

Taglist: @novacanecalum @cosmocalum @roselukes @kinglyhood @cantbehandled-ever @hereforlukescruff @astroashtonio @monsteramongmikey @5secsofsomewhere @gosh-im-short @emma070900 @youmaycallmemrshemmings @cakesunflower @alotof1dlove @calumsmermaid @gorgeouslygrace @asht0ns-world @singt0mecalum @lockthisheartinchains @cheyenne-in-wonderland @babyurart @blahehblah @inlovehoodx @softboycal @littlebear1353

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lailaliquorice · 5 years

Text

just to be seen by your eyes

The fourth of the seven anon prompts: “Do you even still love me?” No name attached but parrlyn parrlyn parrlyn.

here is some sad parrlyn. it’s sad. sad but soft and has a happy ending so no panics. i wanted to write some sad boleyn angst because i usually batter her in some way so here it’s just sad. but cathy deserves all of the gold stars because she is an actual angel. aragon is a worried mum about her green daughter and kat is a worried little sister.

It wasn’t that unusual for Cathy not to join the other queens when they went out for drinks after the show. The only two who nearly always went without fail were Anne and Anna, everyone else had their days when they just wanted to cosy up on the sofa or in bed after a long day being on their feet. Jane usually came home if someone else wanted to so they’d never feel bad about ditching, Kat loved their pub nights but would have to back down if she was feeling too anxious, Aragon’s headaches meant that sometimes she just couldn’t face the noisy pub, and Cathy tended not to go whenever she was so intent on finishing a project that she knew she’d hardly pay attention to the conversation if she did go with them. Today was one of those days, and she’d just kissed Anne and made her promise to check in when she got back before she and Jane set off for home.

But Cathy found herself wishing she had gone with them when she heard the door open and Aragon call out her name with an unmissable tone of urgency.

Rushing down the stairs, she was confronted by the drunkest Anne she had possibly ever seen. She was swaying precariously even while Anna and Aragon held her upright, and when she looked at Cathy there were thick mascara trails down both cheeks. A very anxious looking Kat was hovering just behind them, clearly worried by her cousin’s inebriated state.

“What happened?” was Cathy’s first question, cupping Anne’s jaw gently and smiling at the faint spark of recognition in her eyes.

Anna shook her head. “I wish I knew. She was fine all night until she went to the bar for a refill then came back sobbing.”

“She was drinking more than usual though,” Kat piped up quietly, and they all turned to look at her wringing her hands nervously. “She never goes through that many drinks that quickly. Especially not when I’m there without Jane.”

“I noticed that too but assumed she was just having a good time,” Aragon added, her voice heavy. Glancing at Anne who was by then hanging her head and sagging in her arms, she asked “Do you want help getting her up the stairs?”

Cathy nodded, knowing that she alone would have no hope in getting Anne to her bedroom when she was a good few inches taller than her. “Thank you. Just take her to my room, don’t bother with the second staircase,” she said.

As Anna and Aragon started up the stairs, Cathy paused to pull Kat into a hug before following on behind them. Once Anne was safely sat on Cathy’s bed, Anna and Kat left towards Jane’s room while Aragon lingered for a moment longer. “Let me know if I can help at all, please,” she insisted, placing a hand on Cathy’s shoulder as she looked at her intently.

“I will. Thanks Catherine,” said Cathy, giving her godmother a grateful smile. It was obvious to her that Aragon cared for Anne more than she would ever care to admit, from the worry in her eyes as she watched Anne over Cathy’s shoulder to how firm her arms had been while Anne had leaned into her side. Aragon squeezed Cathy’s shoulder with a hollow smile before she carefully shut the door behind her.

Once it was just the two of them, Cathy noted with concern how Anne was just staring blankly at the wall as she walked over and knelt down in front of her. “Hey sweetheart,” she said, watching as Anne’s eyes slowly flickered to look at her. “How are you doing?”

Anne shrugged, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks as Cathy gently took her hands. “’m drunk,” she slurred, swaying even while seated.

“I can see that, love,” Cathy said, giving her a sad smile. “What’s going through that pretty head of yours, hmm?”

At first she was worried that Anne was going to just shrug again, before she started to speak slowly. “It’s nearly Bess’ birthday,” she mumbled, and already Cathy could feel her heart breaking. “’nd I saw a woman show someone a picture of her baby. She had ginger hair, like Bess did.” She trailed off there, her faraway look returning as the tears fell faster.

Cathy moved to sit beside her as she started to cry harder, wrapping her arms around Anne’s shoulders to pull her close to her chest. “It’s ok to cry,” she whispered in Anne’s ear, rocking her slightly as she sobbed. “It’s ok to miss her. You should have had so much more time with her and it’s ok to be upset.”

“I didn’t- I didn’t see her grow up,” Anne choked out between desperate breaths. “All I’ve got is stupid portraits, I wanted to see her.”

“It’s ok,” Cathy repeated, leaning forwards to rest her head against Anne’s as if she was trying to physically shield her from the rest of the world while she cried.

Once Anne’s shuddering had calmed a little, Cathy leaned back and gently guided Anne’s head up to look at her with a gentle finger beneath her chin. Eyeliner and green glitter was smudged around her bloodshot eyes in addition to the mascara that ran in rivers down her cheeks, and Cathy knew she’d need to clean everything off before she could get Anne to sleep. “Hold still for a second,” she said as she pried herself out of Anne’s arms, kissing her forehead quickly before she hurried to find her makeup remover.

Anne was practically listless as Cathy gently wiped the makeup off her face, only vaguely responding to Cathy’s requests for her to close her eyes or tilt her head slightly. After several minutes of quiet she suddenly said “Dunno why I’m even complaining, you don’t even get portraits of your Mary.”

Cathy’s hand stilled for a moment. She would have been lying if she’d denied feeling a flash of jealousy as Anne spoke of wanting more than portraits of Elizabeth, but she’d shoved the feeling down immediately in order to comfort her girlfriend. She’d loved Elizabeth too, and if she missed the fiery young girl she’d done her best to protect then she couldn’t imagine how her mother would be feeling. She could never hate Anne for wanting more.

Clearly interpreting Cathy’s momentary silence as agreement, Anne clumsily pushed Cathy away and turned to face the other direction. “’m sorry ‘m so selfish,” she groaned, her breathing getting faster and shallower as she became more distraught. “So stupid, ‘m so stupid.”

“Anne, no-“

“No,” Anne ploughed on over Cathy’s interruption, flinching away from the hand Cathy placed on her shoulder. “Why d’you even put up with me? Why d’you deal with my nightmares ‘nd panicking ‘nd everything? You shouldn’t have to deal with me.”

Cathy just wanted to hold her tight enough to chase away all her doubts, but she knew that her reassurances would likely fall on deaf ears with how far down Anne had already spiralled. “Listen to me sweetheart,” she said, moving to kneel back on the floor in front of her again. “I don’t deal with you, because that’s not how people who love each other interact. I think you were dealt with the whole of your last life. I’m not dealing with you, I’m choosing you.”

Anne’s eyes were wide and afraid as she finally looked Cathy in the eye. “Sorry,” she said again, sniffling a little as she continued in a broken voice. “’m sorry ‘bout what I said. Do you even still love me?”

“Yes,” Cathy said without hesitation, sitting up on her knees to cup Anne’s cheek with her hand and wipe away her tears. “Yes, I love you so much and I always will. And I’ll never be angry at you for wanting more of Bess. I wish we both had more – just because you had more time with her than I had with Mary doesn’t mean you have no right to be hurting.

Anne hummed quietly with acknowledgement, giving the weight of her head into Cathy’s hand as her eyes slid shut. Cathy let out a quiet sigh of relief that she’d managed to get through to her at last.

“Let’s get you to bed,” she said after a moment of just watching her girlfriend, knowing that she was coming close to falling asleep where she sat. Anne nodded without opening her eyes, holding out her arms as Cathy stood and gently guided her into bed. She didn’t bother trying to get her changed into pyjamas, as her t-shirt and leggings would be comfy enough to sleep in and Cathy had already got changed herself before the others got home.

Once they were both laid down in Cathy’s bed, Anne didn’t hesitate before wrapping her arm over Cathy’s stomach and tangling their legs together as she rested her head on Cathy’s chest. Cathy gently played with Anne’s hair until her breathing evened out and she fell asleep, grabbing her phone from her bedside table and typing out a quick text to Aragon to let her know that everything was ok. Then she turned out her bedside light, rested her arm on Anne’s, and closed her eyes.

Come the morning she would need a lot of water and painkillers to get through the inevitable hangover, but for the moment they could just sleep peacefully in each other’s arms.

#six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #parrlyn #anne boleyn #catherine parr #laila's writing

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set-phasers-to-whump · 5 years

Text

whumptober day 4

prompt: human shield

whumpee: matt murdock (this is before foggy finds out he’s daredevil)

Matt and Foggy were walking down the street after a pleasant night out. Foggy was telling a story Matt had heard at least three times before, and Matt was letting his voice blend into the sounds of the street around them-faint clattering in an alley, the soft squeak of a fire escape being climbed up by someone who wasn’t supposed to be out so late, and the sudden rapid footsteps coming from behind them.

At nearly the same instant Matt registered the person coming, he heard the sound of a knife being drawn, and instinctively shoved Foggy out of the way, spinning around to face their unwelcome companion.

The person spoke in a shaky voice-it was a kid, Matt realised, probably no older than sixteen. He could hear the kid’s heartbeat, thready and desperate-more afraid than he was. “G-gimme your wallet, mister, or I’ll...I’ll stab you, I swear I will!”

Matt slowly reached for his wallet, being careful to show that he wasn’t going to grab a weapon. He didn’t want to hurt this kid-they were probably hungry, or maybe they weren’t and they had just been dared to mug him. He didn’t really care. It was just a kid, he wasn’t about to attack them. He had the situation completely under control, save for one thing-Foggy.

Matt was being far too calm, Foggy thought. He stood up, shaking his head-Matt hadn’t meant to, but he’d pushed Foggy fairly hard, sending him stumbling into the side of a building. Was Matt more used to being mugged than the average New Yorker? he wondered. Maybe he was-he supposed muggers would take any advantage they could get, and a victim that couldn’t see you was certainly a plus.

He should intervene, right? The mugger hadn’t really paid much attention to him since Matt had pushed him out of the way, so maybe he could take them by surprise, get the knife away-it couldn’t be that hard, could it? Besides, he didn’t like the way the mugger’s hands were shaking-this was obviously a rookie, and Foggy knew someone who hadn’t had a lot of practice was far more likely to wind up stabbing their victim-it just made sense. That settled it-he had to do something.

Matt was being commanded by the mugger to hand over his phone now, as well. He again slowly reached for his pocket, but was caught off guard as Foggy slammed into him. He stumbled to the side, and everything slowed down. Foggy was in front of the mugger, who had their knife out. Matt knew what was going to happen immediately, and so he knew what he needed to do.

There was a swish of metal (in Matt’s ears) and a sort of ‘thwack’ sound (in Foggy’s ears). For a second, Foggy assumed the mugger had stabbed him, but-no, that wasn’t right, he’d feel something, so what-oh. Oh. Matt.

He didn’t really feel the stab. He heard the knife strike his flesh, smelled the blood, felt the sidewalk under him as he sank to his knees, but he didn’t feel the pain.

And then he did. He’d felt worse, granted, a hell of a lot worse, but this was different. It took him a second to place why, exactly. And then the why spoke to him:

“Matt! Why-why did you do that? It was under control!”

Foggy. He’d been stabbed before, sure, but never in front of his best friend-he felt-vulnerable, he supposed. Foggy knelt down in front of him, and Matt could feel his hands fluttering nervously around his body, clearly not sure what he was supposed to do. So Matt took charge of the situation.

“What do you mean, ‘under control,’ Foggy? It was under control until you pushed me out of the way!”

“I thought they were gonna stab you!”

“They did!”

At this, Foggy fell silent. “Well, I would’ve been the one stabbed if you hadn’t thrown yourself in the way!” he finally pointed out.

“That’s worse, Foggy!”

“Okay, so neither of us getting stabbed was the ideal outcome, but-c’mon, we gotta-we gotta get to the hospital or something!”

“No, we don’t.”

“What? Matt, you were stabbed! And by the way, you’re acting very calm about this-does it hurt? I’ve never been stabbed before-thanks for that, by the way.” He was rambling, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that, but he was freaking out. His best friend had been stabbed and didn’t even seem all that concerned!

“We can just go back to my apartment, okay? I’ve got some medical supplies, it’s not that bad, I promise.”

“I feel like I’ve gotta point out again that you were stabbed, Matt! How is that not bad?”

Matt stood up suddenly and began walking off down the street, barely limping, one hand curled around himself to slow the bleeding. Foggy shot to his feet and ran after him. “Jesus, okay, Matt, we’ll go back to your place, just-slow down a second!”

Matt obliged, stopping until Foggy caught up. Foggy fell in step with his friend, gently slipping an arm around Matt’s waist and taking on some of his weight. Matt turned to face him, looking puzzled.

“You shouldn’t really be carrying any of your own weight, I don’t think,” Foggy said, “but I dunno if I could carry you, so I guess this works well enough? Unless you have a better idea.”

Matt shook his head and leaned a little more heavily on Foggy. This is nice, he thought. Usually he had to bring himself home after he’d been hurt-this was far more preferable.

Around three-fourths of the way through their journey, Matt began to list off to the side a bit, clearly feeling the blood loss.

“You okay? I mean, obviously you’re not okay, but-”

“I’m fine, Foggy.”

Foggy briefly tried to insist upon carrying Matt the rest of the way. Matt, predictably, wouldn’t let him.

“C’mon, please, Matt, I really don’t want you to collapse on me, okay? It’s bad enough we’re not going to a hospital, I don’t know what to do if you pass out!”

Matt refused until they were about half a block away from his apartment. He spun around, standing in front of Foggy, and pressed his forehead into Foggy’s shoulder. He took a few shaky, deep breaths. “Could we take a quick break?”

Foggy could feel the blood seeping through Matt’s shirt and into his own. “Shit. Yeah, okay, I’ve got a better idea. We’re really close, okay? I can see your building”

Foggy reached down and picked Matt up as gently as he could, opting to carry him bridal-style-he wasn’t at all sure what the protocol was for dealing with a stab wound, but he reasoned that if the wound was facing up, there wasn’t really anywhere for the blood to go.

Matt groaned at the sudden change in position and brought a hand to his wound once again, trying to keep pressure on it.

They managed to make it back to Matt’s apartment without any further complications. Foggy set Matt down on the couch and immediately set to work, grabbing Matt’s first-aid kit (which was a great deal more well-stocked than he had expected) and a chair to work from.

He returned to the couch and set down the kit, realising he really had no idea what he was supposed to do.

Matt noticed Foggy’s hesitation. “We gotta stop the bleeding first. I’ll need a towel, and after that some water, a washcloth, and-”

“Hey, stop, you’re not gonna do anything except tell me what to do, okay? It’s my fault you got stabbed, the least I can do is fix you up, right?” Foggy was freaking out, just a little, but he’d be fine, he’d be fine, what he had to worry about was, would Matt be fine? What if he wasn’t fine, what if-?

Matt noticed his friend’s heartbeat speeding up even more. “Hey. Foggy. You were just trying to help, okay? Can you get that towel, please?”

Foggy snapped out of his panic and hurried to the bathroom. He pushed on the wound with what felt like far too much pressure, but which Matt repeatedly assured him was the right thing to do. After what seemed like an eternity, Matt announced that the bleeding had stopped, and instructed Foggy to get the washcloth and water.

“You need to clean it first, then we’ll get some antiseptic and put it on, and then do the stitches.”

“Stitches? Matt, I don’t know how to sew!”

“It’s fine, I do.”

“No-wait, I’m not letting you operate on yourself!”

“It’s just a few stitches, it’s gonna be fine, really. I promise.”

Foggy felt terrible. Matt was the one who was hurt, and yet here he was, trying to comfort Foggy. Foggy decided he wasn’t going to have any more of that.

“I’ll do the stitches, okay? That way you won’t have to sit up and bend around all funny. I can do them, really, Matt.”

Matt looked like he was about to protest, but changed his mind, evidently. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll let you know what you need to do when it’s time.”

Foggy thus returned to the bowl of water and washcloth in his hands.

“Okay,” Matt said. “You’ve gotta take my shirt off, get the fibres away from the wound, then just clean it, especially at the edges.”

Foggy determined the easiest way to do this was with scissors. “Hope you weren’t too attached to this shirt,” he joked halfheartedly.

Matt grinned weakly at him. “You better buy me a new one, then,” he said, his voice hitching a little as Foggy lifted his ruined shirt away from his torso.

There was a lot more blood, now that Matt’s shirt was out of the way. Foggy carefully cleaned it away, noting with surprise that Matt didn’t even wince throughout the ordeal. It’s almost like he’s done this before-but he can’t have been stabbed before, can he? I would know that, right?

He found the antiseptic and carefully applied it to the wound. This, at least, made Matt wince. “You don’t have to use so much of it, you know,” he said in a strained voice.

“I’m not taking any chances, Mr. I-Won’t-Go-To-The-Hospital.”

And now it was time for the stitches. “There’s some thread in there, should be a needle too,” Matt said.

Of course Matt had a surgical-grade needle and thread. Why wouldn’t he?

Foggy swallowed and steeled himself. “What do I do?”

“Are there any pieces of my shirt still in the wound?”

Foggy examined Matt carefully and determined that he’d gotten them all out already.

“Good, now, this is important-the edges of it, are they jagged or smooth?”

“They’re pretty rough.”

Matt groaned. “I thought they were. There should be a little scalpel in the first aid kit, see it?” Foggy grabbed the scalpel and held it up uncertainly. He had a faint idea of what he might have to do, and he didn’t like it one bit.

“You’re gonna have to cut the edges of the wound to make them smooth.”

“God...okay,” Foggy said. He took a deep breath and began to cut-he was cutting Matt’s skin, how was this okay?

Matt just laid there as Foggy cleaned up the edges of his wound. It hurt, but he knew the worst of the pain was yet to come.

Foggy finished up with the scalpel. “What next?”

Matt directed him through the process of threading the needle and explained how to do the actual stitching. I wouldn’t even trust me to do this, Foggy thought.

It wasn’t too bad-for Foggy, at least. Matt hadn’t had anything to dull the pain-of course the one thing he wouldn’t have was the one thing that would make this easier on him. He had tried not to react too much, but the fact of the matter was, Foggy hadn’t ever done this before.

The first stitch was the worst. It had been a while since Matt had had to actually stitch himself up, and he had evidently forgotten just how much it hurt. The needle pierced his skin, and he instinctively reached out and latched onto Foggy’s arm.

“Should I stop?”

Matt replied in a voice tight with pain. “No-no, keep going, just keep going, I’ll-I’ll just let go, gotta sit still…”

Foggy gritted his teeth against his friend’s muted sounds of pain-only the occasional hiss escaped him. Foggy wondered how Matt could possibly do this-he was pretty sure he would’ve passed out by now, or at least screamed. He tied off the stitches as neatly as he could, then cleaned the fresh blood off of Matt’s skin.

“It’s done,” he said.

Matt sighed shakily. “Thanks,” he said softly.

Foggy smiled a faint, exhausted smile. He said what he realised he should have said a while ago-“you’re gonna be okay.” He slid from his chair onto the floor near Matt’s head and carefully hugged him around the shoulders. “You’re gonna be okay, Matt.”

Matt, who had withstood a lot of beatings in his time, who had just been stabbed and then stitched up while completely conscious, suddenly found himself crying. “It really hurts,” he whispered.

“I know, buddy,” Foggy whispered back. “But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

hi i suck and endings and i have literally no idea if this is good or not but i had a lot of fun writing it!! thanks so much if you read this!!!

#whumptober2019 #no.4 #matt murdock #daredevil #human shield #my writing #stabbed #field medicine #i say things #blood #also i apologise for any inaccuracies #i looked up how to fix a stab wound #also for all i know maybe foggy can sew but in this assume he cant #i apologise if this is ooc

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